Description: China sends a force of soldiers--under Shadaloo's direction, of course--to the recently-allied neighbor of Nepal. The nation's army is ready and waiting for the threat, but the invaders' superior numbers spells trouble. They Nepali find an odd ally in Rust, who proves that China was right to outlaw fighters of his caliber, for he is the only thing that ends up repelling the People's Republic! (Winner: Nepal/Rust)
China and Nepal have certainly had a very volatile history. Once allies, then enemies, and now allies again, one would think that the smaller nation, of any, would be safe.
That is, of course, not taking into account the limitless ambition of a certain dictator.
Border guards were as surprised as anyone to see rows of olive-hued trucks careening down the road. It's not an isolated incident, either. Groups of People's Republic forces pay no heed to barricades and weak officials in thin suits as their vehicles burst through fences and barrels! Some leap for cover, some find themselves crushed under tires, some even find themselves targets for heartless agents squatted in the back of the transports.
It's not a long trek through the small country. An hour, maybe two hours from the northern reaches of the thin country, is all it takes for the intruders to meet up. There's no care given to what they run over, or who--they're on a mission toward the capital itself. To Kathmandu.
They are not going to get there easily.
A few miles outside of the city, police have attempted to block every road, barricade every entrance with vehicles, sandbags, and spikes. Half a mile from the army entrenched behind the barriers, the Chinese forces come to a stop with screeching tires and grinding metal. Immediately, pairs of booted feet smash against the pavement, forming into rows of armed soldiers that line up in the expansive aisles between transports. The Motherland's natives in the attacking army seem especially proud. Today, finally, they will show the world why one should never, NEVER cross the great People's Republic.
COMBATSYS: Zulu-Company has started a fight here on the left meter side.
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COMBATSYS: Yankee-Company has joined the fight here on the left meter side.
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COMBATSYS: Xray-Company has joined the fight here on the left meter side.
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Some said it wasn't a good idea to head out to mainland Asia in these turbulent times. Howard couldn't really look away from the reality of his situation, however - even with Sagat's generous donations, he's got to be able to pull in a living. Becoming a full-time fighter has not been an easy transition for him.
When he heard that he'd be having a match in Nepal, he thought... hey, they're on good terms with China right now, weren't they? It should be okay. The only thing that could go wrong is if he has another embarrassing show like the last two. This time, he's sure, will be different. Put on a good show, get paid, maybe get a few new prospective students at the Kyokugen Dojo to make Takuma a little less cantankerous... maybe at least have the funds in case of an emergency that might actually see him have to travel, or get that band's lawyers off his back. The news is saying things are about to go really bad (if they haven't already).
As Rust sits in waiting just a ways outside of Katmandu with the usual nervous anticipation that comes before a match, there's a whole lot of yelling in languages he doesn't understand as he rubs the back of his head with a towel.
"Did something happen?" He mumbles as he looks out the window of a hotel lobby to the view of assembling soldiers. People are already running out of the hotel lobby for their lives. Howard, for his part, wonders what's exactly going on.
His questions are answered to rifles already being pointed further down the street outside, at which point he stares blearily at a particular squad of soldiers and transports just right out the window. The horror has not quite set in yet, given the startling resemblance this has to an event some years back.
...To be fair, this time is different. Maybe he should have specified, in retrospect, what he was exactly hoping would be different.
COMBATSYS: Whiskey-Platoon has joined the fight here on the left meter side.
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COMBATSYS: Alpha-Platoon has joined the fight here on the right meter side.
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Whiskey-Platoon 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Alpha-Platoon
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COMBATSYS: Charlie-Platoon has joined the fight here on the right meter side.
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Whiskey-Platoon 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Alpha-Platoon
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Xray-Company 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Charlie-Platoon
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COMBATSYS: Beta-Platoon has joined the fight here on the right meter side.
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Whiskey-Platoon 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Alpha-Platoon
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Xray-Company 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Beta-Platoon
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Yankee-Company 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Charlie-Platoon
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Zulu-Company 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: Rust has joined the fight here on the right meter side.
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Whiskey-Platoon 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Alpha-Platoon
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Xray-Company 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Beta-Platoon
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Yankee-Company 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Charlie-Platoon
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Zulu-Company 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Rust
[1;34mED-209 drops Order: Zulu, Whiskey, Alpha, Xray, Yankee, Beta, Charlie, Rust.
One can't say that it's TOTALLY unexpected. Of course thre's going to be resistance. Of COURSE there will be people that fail to see how Right and Wonderful the People's Republic is...or its puppetmaster. Pairs of binoculars scan the rows of sandbags and stuff. Charging in is just plain reckless.
Thankfully, the Republic came prepared.
From the backs of the transports, troops pull out a number of heavy cylinders. Shoulder-mounted RPGs are passed through the ranks as they clear out and get behind cover. Half a minute later, and the Nepalese army has got a dozen screaming rocket-propelled grenades coming toward them!
The first volley's smoking launchers are pulled back, exchanged for fresh armaments. New soldiers are given their weapons, and again, men clear out as a second string of brightly-flaring, explosive projectiles come barelling down upon the meager barricades ahead. China WILL take this city. There is no doubt!
COMBATSYS: Alpha-Platoon blocks Zulu-Company's Rocket Shower.
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Whiskey-Platoon 0/-------/-------|=------\-------\0 Alpha-Platoon
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Xray-Company 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Beta-Platoon
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Yankee-Company 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Charlie-Platoon
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Zulu-Company 0/-------/------=|-------\-------\0 Rust
No man in his right mind would willingly stand in the face of explosives! Nepel's defenders duck and dive behind cover as bits of sand and asphalt and metal are ripped and strewn about. Alpha team huddles up against the biggest of sandbag hills, cocking their automatic rifles. In small groups, they perk up and lay down wide, erratic gunfire toward the Chinese troops, trying to keep the occupied for another team to take out!
While the other teams go about laying down thick destruction upon its foes, another, as-of-yet unseen group of soldiers skulk around the edges of the city. Sticking to trees and shanties and underbrush for cover, another company entirely attempts to get behind the front lines. The best that they can do is try to creep up from the sides, cutting into unaware troops with garrote wire and slit throats.
And from the other side, yet ANOTHER group of Chinese and Shadaloo soldiers try to make their way through the ranks! A dash brings them over the least-defended section of the barricade, where the burly strike force lays waste to whoever gets too close via good old-fashioned head trauma!
COMBATSYS: Whiskey-Platoon successfully hits Beta-Platoon with Grenade Volley.
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Whiskey-Platoon 0/-------/------=|=------\-------\0 Alpha-Platoon
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Xray-Company 0/-------/-------|==-----\-------\0 Beta-Platoon
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Yankee-Company 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Charlie-Platoon
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Zulu-Company 0/-------/------=|-------\-------\0 Rust
Stomping boots, shrieking tires, hails of opening gunfire...
It's deafening, and terrifying, for the small militia group who - until now - have commonly plied their ill-trained trade against local would-be gangsters and the occasional scrappy group of bandits. This band of local men and women, little more than glorified and heavily-armed cops, have been hastily assembled into an organized fighting force to defend against the Chinese incursion. They dash through the streets, throwing themselves into cover as grenades stream down upon them, explosions soon rattling in their midst.
"Down! Stay down!" Barks the sergeant to those in cover already by the barricades mounted along the road. But they're moving already, rising up to fire off cheap, poorly-maintained AK's at the encroaching horde. Bodies fly hither and thither, one poor private taking the brunt of a blast and hitting the ground in a mangled mess. The sergant bites off a curse, then ducks out from beside a parked truck, lifting his own rifle's sights to a scarred eye. Shot after shot is fired, rapid three-round bursts aimed with as much care as can be mustered as he seeks to cover for his regrouping platoon.
COMBATSYS: Xray-Company successfully hits Charlie-Platoon with Opportune Distraction.
- Power hit! -
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Whiskey-Platoon 0/-------/------=|=------\-------\0 Alpha-Platoon
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Xray-Company 0/-------/------=|-------\-------\0 Beta-Platoon
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Yankee-Company 0/-------/-------|===----\-------\0 Charlie-Platoon
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Zulu-Company 0/-------/------=|-------\-------\0 Rust
COMBATSYS: Yankee-Company successfully hits Charlie-Platoon with Pistol-whip.
-* CRITICAL HIT! *-
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Whiskey-Platoon 0/-------/------=|=------\-------\0 Alpha-Platoon
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Xray-Company 0/-------/------=|-------\-------\0 Beta-Platoon
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Yankee-Company 0/-------/------=|=======\-------\0 Charlie-Platoon
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Zulu-Company 0/-------/------=|-------\-------\0 Rust
Given the distance between the assembled Nepalese and Chinese forces, the fact that Rust is already a ways into where the Chinese have already moved in is... it's a deadly place to be. Any normal human being could count themselves dead the moment they stepped out into view.
The firing of explosive weapons ring in the nearby ex-shop teacher's ears as he is still coming to grips with whether or not he's seeing what he's actually seeing (...and hearing, more than seeing). His joints feel ready to tense up as parallels start being drawn towards the assault on Pacific High back during the Southtown Invasion.
Meanwhile, one of the Nepali QRF squadrons (for those log readers, we'll be nicknaming them the Charlie Platoon) - one intending to flank the impending assault from the edges of the city, peers out with a pair of binnoculars.
"<<Who is that?>>" Asks a lanky uniformed man in Nepali to a tallet man yet.
"<<What is that?!>>" He asks in shock of seeing a fluffy bit of dark purple, recoiling in horror at the sight.
"<<Is that one of their elites?>>" Asks the less lanky man. "<<He is not dressed like them. He does not look like one of them, yet...>>"
It seems China's forces have their own sneaky ideas, as their special forces and assassins immediately get the jump on said scouts. Their throats are slit open as though they were mere targets - live dummy practice, their lifeless bodies suddenly going limp.
The people that should have been watching their flank are busy looking at stars and lost teeth on top of bayonets and bullets as the Chinese counter-flank runs them over. Their sergeant is already calling for a retreat further back into the city, the handful of medical officials they have on hand pulling back out who they can - the amount of good they're going to be able to do to aid them is limited, but quick bandage work and maybe a bit of er, 'medicine,' might see them able to fire back once they can find a safer position.
Howard, for his part, steps out to see a young girl already crying over a fallen body. The brute-forcing forward assault that just cut out a number of losses for the now-nicknamed Charlie Platoon come into view. The man of dark purple hair tenses his fist, realizing... yes, that just happened.
The retreating platoon inadvertedly finds an ally as he suddenly steps forward into the advancing horde, Ol' Rusty drawn cleanly with a broad outward swing (and a nasty crack of the shoulder) as he steps in front of the crying girl and fallen body, possibly with enough strength to send a couple of those Chinese soldiers flying.
COMBATSYS: Zulu-Company blocks Alpha-Platoon's Cover Fire.
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Whiskey-Platoon 0/-------/------=|==-----\-------\0 Alpha-Platoon
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Xray-Company 0/-------/------=|-------\-------\0 Beta-Platoon
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Yankee-Company 0/-------/------=|=======\-------\0 Charlie-Platoon
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Zulu-Company 0/-------/------=|-------\-------\0 Rust
COMBATSYS: Beta-Platoon successfully hits Whiskey-Platoon with Focus Fire.
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Whiskey-Platoon 0/-------/----===|==-----\-------\0 Alpha-Platoon
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Xray-Company 0/-------/------=|==-----\-------\0 Beta-Platoon
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Yankee-Company 0/-------/------=|=======\-------\0 Charlie-Platoon
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Zulu-Company 0/-------/------=|-------\-------\0 Rust
Now it's the attackers' turns to search for cover! Ducking behind the safety of trucks and trees, bullets rip through the air with high-pitched song...at least, those that don't bounce of of armored plating with metallic clanks or, poor girls, sink deep into Chinese flesh. A dozen men go down all told, crumpling into pained, groaning piles for those that weren't lucky enough to die oturight. Suffering continued rounds, the mortars are broken out and passed to capable hands. Those that can't work the explosives do their best to keep Nepal's barricades under a constant stream of gunfire, just to keep them at bay!
What?! How did the enemy slip in around them? Radio chatter abounds as the defending forces seek answers, directions. This force was assembled hastily, their training lackluster. Many of these men were on vacation or drafted. It's no wonder that they're making mistakes. And then Rust comes in--a civilian! What is going ON? The only thing they can know for certain is that this crime against nature of a hairpiece is helping them in. For NOW, that's enough. Pulling away from the bombarded barricades, guidance comes over the squack of chest-mounted walkie-talkies. Men split up and the fight is taken to the more immediate threat: the Chinese dogs slaughtering their men right here!
COMBATSYS: Rust successfully hits Yankee-Company with Medium Strike.
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Whiskey-Platoon 0/-------/----===|==-----\-------\0 Alpha-Platoon
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Xray-Company 0/-------/------=|==-----\-------\0 Beta-Platoon
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Yankee-Company 0/-------/----===|=======\-------\0 Charlie-Platoon
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Zulu-Company 0/-------/------=|-------\-------\0 Rust
COMBATSYS: Yankee-Company fails to counter CQC Training from Alpha-Platoon with Opportune Distraction.
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Whiskey-Platoon 0/-------/----===|===----\-------\0 Alpha-Platoon
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Xray-Company 0/-------/------=|==-----\-------\0 Beta-Platoon
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Yankee-Company 0/-------/--=====|=======\-------\0 Charlie-Platoon
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Zulu-Company 0/-------/------=|-------\-------\0 Rust
And fly they do! Rust's interruption sends two fully-grown men up and over the nearest wall, landing on a roof or maybe some sort of easily-collapsible table. In either case, they're out for the count! The sight of their own guys flying causes the rest of the men to stop and stare. They'd only seen that sort of thing on TV, is it...no! Fighting is fake, just like wrestling. Everyone knows that! In the meantime, they're sitting ducks for the mettle of those brave Nepal fighters that are ready to go toe to toe with those who would take everything from them. Chinese soldiers fall left and right to well-aimed blows, and then...
Oh, then, it's the damnest thing. Before anyone knows it, some crazy asshole has gotten in one of the transport trucks and driven it ONTO the barricade! The vehicle ramps on the slope given by the continued bombardment, aimed right for Rust. This is what he gets for interfering!
COMBATSYS: Whiskey-Platoon successfully hits Beta-Platoon with Bullet Spread.
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Whiskey-Platoon 0/-------/---====|===----\-------\0 Alpha-Platoon
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Xray-Company 0/-------/------=|===----\-------\0 Beta-Platoon
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Yankee-Company 0/-------/--=====|=======\-------\0 Charlie-Platoon
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Zulu-Company 0/-------/------=|-------\-------\0 Rust
COMBATSYS: Zulu-Company successfully hits Beta-Platoon with Rocket Shower.
Glancing Blow
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Whiskey-Platoon 0/-------/---====|===----\-------\0 Alpha-Platoon
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Xray-Company 0/-------/------=|=====--\-------\0 Beta-Platoon
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Yankee-Company 0/-------/--=====|=======\-------\0 Charlie-Platoon
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Zulu-Company 0/-------/---====|-------\-------\0 Rust
Rust's dramatic entrance goes unnoticed by the recovering men and women of Beta Platoon, struggling to their feet beneath the covering fire of their sergeant, who starts to yell as he fires - each death upon the other side driving him to fight all the harder and more furiously. As his men take cover once more behind the barricades, one looks back and signals, sweeping their hand through the air until he stops and ducks back behind the abandoned truck. "Bastards! This is our land... our home..."
His words are answered by the returning fire, bullets slamming against the vehicle, darting off with metallic *zings* to wound nearby soldiers; albeit less than if they'd managed to penetrate fresh. A few of those behind the barricade fall back with grunts and pained screams, the makeshit defenses not enough to fully shield them. And then the rockets come. There's no time to prepare - and covering helmeted heads makes little difference.
When the fireballs dissipate, leaving a choking black smoke in their wake, half the platoon is down or slaughtered. The sergeant remains behind his own cover, the truck's windows shattered and lying about in a million dirty shards. "Enough!" He barks in his native tongue, thrusting to his feet and rolling into the driver's seat, ignoring the swinging of the door as it fails to close. It takes a few false starts, but as the bullets continue to fly, he gets the van moving-- axles squealing as he pilots it through the smoke past his men and toward the enemy.
A few of the former manage to leap aboard the back as it flies, an impromptu strike force bound for the front.
COMBATSYS: Xray-Company successfully hits Rust with Gain Way!.
- Power hit! -
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Whiskey-Platoon 0/-------/---====|===----\-------\0 Alpha-Platoon
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Xray-Company 0/-------/----===|=====--\-------\0 Beta-Platoon
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Yankee-Company 0/-------/--=====|=======\-------\0 Charlie-Platoon
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Zulu-Company 0/-------/---====|===----\-------\0 Rust
Thankfully, the Charlie Platoon - shattered as they were by that pincer assault that interrupted their own - manages to hole up in a small building as a brief defense as the shocked and frightened bunch of soldiers try to regain their morale under a sergeant who is really just as shaken as they are.
At least one of them has the grit - despite taking a few bullets to the leg - to limp on over to a window with a badly-made grenade launcher. His aim is shaky and unsteady, but he sees almost nothing but Chinese. His care is nonexistent - this recklessness will almost certainly cost innocent lives in the burst of adrenaline that follows, exploding grenades collapsing nearby structures as a good number of his surviving comrades seem content to just lie down, and let the quick medical work give them an excuse to not get back up and fight.
Rust, meanwhile, stands ready with Ol' Rusty drawn. It doesn't dawn to him that this one strike alone just shows how far he's come. When Igniz invaded Pacific, he could only wound one soldier before they all overwhelmed him. Now...
Now there's a truck jumping the barricade and coming right down on him. To his credit, there's a deft backwards hop to put him out of 'squish' range, but not so much 'not get run over' range.
It ends up being more like 'get smacked into the grill and be pushed,' which he seems to take well enough as his boots dig scorch marks into the streets from friction. A wide-eyed Howard thinks... okay, okay, if this kind of truck's engine is where he thinks it i--
He doesn't account for the first wall he is suddenly plowed through, a situation that would end lives or, at minimum, probably rob someone of the ability to walk. Instead, it takes a whole lot of breath out of him. Then he goes through the /second/ wall, and his consciousness starts swimming as - still pressed up against the truck - his head turns lazily behind hi--
Oh my god that's a steel wall behind me.
It's a race against time as Howard clasps Ol' Rusty as tightly as his injured right hand really can, banging at the grill hard enough in hopes he'll push through and destroy it - and the engine - before he gets rammed through there because that is one steel wall he doesn't want to be crushed up against.
It's a horrifying prospect.
COMBATSYS: Charlie-Platoon successfully hits Charlie-Platoon with Emergency Medpack.
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Whiskey-Platoon 0/-------/---====|===----\-------\0 Alpha-Platoon
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Xray-Company 0/-------/----===|=====--\-------\0 Beta-Platoon
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Yankee-Company 0/-------/--=====|=======\-------\0 Charlie-Platoon
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Zulu-Company 0/-------/---====|===----\-------\0 Rust
COMBATSYS: Whiskey-Platoon dodges Beta-Platoon's Truck Bashing.
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Whiskey-Platoon 0/-------/---====|===----\-------\0 Alpha-Platoon
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Xray-Company 0/-------/----===|=====--\-------\0 Beta-Platoon
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Yankee-Company 0/-------/--=====|=======\-------\0 Charlie-Platoon
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Zulu-Company 0/-------/---====|===----\-------\0 Rust
For all the chaos going on, the Chinese forces are really...quiet. There's the occasional bark here and an answer there, but the attacking forces are all so...smooth. When your own comrades die, there is usually SOME sort of reaction. But no, not here. These men have been hardened already. The People's Republic doesn't normally put so much effort into mental preparation. Shadaloo's influence is already bearing fruit.
This holds true even when there's a truck coming toward them! Turnabout is fair play, is it not? But they're prepared. Almost in unison, the Whiskey platoon splits itself down the middle. Some go left, some go right...but the sargeant and his crazy driving goes harmlessly through the middle, after which the group forms ranks once again. Even as they do, the muzzles of their rifles return to life in bright flashes, both groups currently at range apparently keen to STAY that way, despite the fact that they have men going toe to toe with the enemy. It's a wonder that they don't tag any of them.
COMBATSYS: Zulu-Company successfully hits Alpha-Platoon with Strong Shot.
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Whiskey-Platoon 0/-------/----===|======-\-------\0 Alpha-Platoon
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Xray-Company 0/-------/----===|=====--\-------\0 Beta-Platoon
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Yankee-Company 0/-------/--=====|=======\-------\0 Charlie-Platoon
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Zulu-Company 0/-------/---====|===----\-------\0 Rust
Ah, you see! As Alpha starts fighting back, the invaders bleed! Moral swells in the home camp, bolstered by Rust's assistance and the way one of their own guys goes off to drive a truck through the enemy. That man shall be missed! He shall be a hero! But now is no time for celebration. Having already cut a chunk out of their foes, alpha continues to wade through Republic solders with knife and boot, working their way toward the Charlie platoon to, perhaps, combine their strengths and turn the tide. Perhaps even push these dogs OUT of their precious, but rapidly-disintegrating barricade.
COMBATSYS: Alpha-Platoon assists Charlie-Platoon.
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Whiskey-Platoon 0/-------/----===|======-\-------\0 Alpha-Platoon
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Xray-Company 0/-------/----===|=====--\-------\0 Beta-Platoon
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Yankee-Company 0/-------/--=====|=======\-------\0 Charlie-Platoon
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Zulu-Company 0/-------/---====|===----\-------\0 Rust
COMBATSYS: Yankee-Company interrupts Grenade Volley from Charlie-Platoon with Pot Shots.
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Whiskey-Platoon 0/-------/----===|======-\-------\0 Alpha-Platoon
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Xray-Company 0/-------/----===|=====--\-------\0 Beta-Platoon
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Yankee-Company 0/-------/=======|=======\=------\1 Charlie-Platoon
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Zulu-Company 0/-------/---====|===----\-------\0 Rust
COMBATSYS: Xray-Company fails to interrupt Random Strike from Rust with Fierce Punch.
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Whiskey-Platoon 0/-------/----===|======-\-------\0 Alpha-Platoon
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Xray-Company 0/-------/--=====|=====--\-------\0 Beta-Platoon
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Yankee-Company 0/-------/=======|=======\=------\1 Charlie-Platoon
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Zulu-Company 0/-------/---====|===----\-------\0 Rust
There is no stopping Rust when he wants to be stopped! Its metal interior gives way to the shop teacher's might, belts flying off and pistons jettisoned from their chambers. The loss of the engine stops the spinning wheels...and more importantly, sends the driver careening through the windshield! It's he, unfortunately, that collides with the steel wall face-first, an impact that would knock out all but the toughest of men.
In the meantime, Yankee has other problems. While most of them are trapped in a melee stalemate, there's a shout as the first grenade comes flying near. What happens then is just beyond strange. They do not run, they do not hide. Fully HALF of the men draw their pistols and start firing at the lobbed explosives! A flurry of bullets screams into the air, ripping up distant trees and concrete and windows. There are just so many bullets that most of the grenades are pushed BACK toward those that threw them! Have they no fear whatsoever?!
COMBATSYS: Whiskey-Platoon successfully hits Beta-Platoon with Trick Shot.
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Whiskey-Platoon 0/-------/---====|======-\-------\0 Alpha-Platoon
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////// ]
Xray-Company 0/-------/--=====|=======\-------\0 Beta-Platoon
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////// ]
Yankee-Company 0/-------/=======|=======\=------\1 Charlie-Platoon
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////////////// ]
Zulu-Company 0/-------/---====|===----\-------\0 Rust
This isn't going well for the defenders, and the sergeant's face can practically be HEARD falling as his near-suicide onslaught is easily and smoothly countered by the far more organized operation they face. He's focused enough to stay in the game though, his head snapping to one side as he takes in the flanking men in an instant, then looks further across to see the similarly-crazy Howard Rust smashing his way into a matching vehicle to his own. Grinning with feral bravado, he slams on the brakes, spinning the truck out into a wild skid even as shots slam into it once more.
Two of the five men who've managed to clamber aboard, piled in the back firing off as best they can, fly out in either direction, hitting the churned road with horrid thumps and crunches as they bounce to a dead stop. Literally. "Men and women of Nepal!" Barks the sergeant, spitting a mouthful of blood as he leaps from the open door, landing with his gun already blazing. "Help the insane American defend our homes!"
The other three cry out as they too spring down, streaming past the regrouping pack still firing upon them to engage those nearest Rust in close quarters. Their styles are clearly those of untrained fighters, but brutal and full of desperate heart; knives and bayonets singing in the smoke-strewn air.
The Alpha and Charlie platoons rally together - it's not a pretty picture on the Charlie side (there's incoming gunfire, watch out!). The reckless Charlie grenadier is gunned down in the return fire, their temporary shelter no longer really safe. One medic takes a shot right to the brainpan. Others, almost rallied by the bravery of one of their own, are cowed either by being shot or otherwise frightened by the return fire - especially that one grenade that blows a wall straight down.
"<<They are too strong!>>" Complains one Charlie Platoon man in Nepali.
"<<They are organized,>>" says the sergeant. With help from the Alpha Platoon, one of the surviving Charlie sharpshooters manages to take to a three-story building nearby with yet additional help from one of the Alpha guys spotting - the rest of the Charlie team is falling further back behind the failing barricade while they work out the counter-offensive from here, if one is even possible. They can't win with brute force, but they're hoping the forward push might have exposed people that look important. Rifle shots are squeezed off, marked by thunderous rifle shots. The marksman is inexperienced, praying for his life with every shot.
Meanwhile, Rust is thrown onto his back with the sudden stop of the truck, body covered in dust and grime as a whooping cough almost manages to drown out the sound of gunfire around him. He doesn't dare look behind him to see the driver and/or any passengers that fly out as he stumbles back clearly into view.
This man - if he is even a man - survived being run into by a truck without... no, he kind of does look worse for the wear, but he's standing, he's breathing, he's walking, he's still gripping that rusted length of pipe.
"Son of a bitch," he mutters as he steps forth to rapidly rushing Chinese forces who used the truck advance as a means to cover their advance. Beta Platoon's own move forth, rallying alongside him.
Bad habits overcome common sense as he steps into the unskilled melee. "Hey," he calls, unaware as to whether or not they can hear him (or even understand English), "if, if you're gonna engage 'em like... like that," he mumbles as he sucks in breath, thrusting Ol' Rusty forward for the belt of one of the Chinese soldiers to lift him up and just toss him back towards the approaching Chinese soldiers, "try for, for the knees, or... or move to push 'em over."
He's not exactly the man who should be talking about military tactics, but he's had enough of his share of handling people with polearm-like weapons (which may or may not really extend to rifles to begin with).
That loud sargeant is VERY annoying. Despite having tried to drive THROUGH Whiskey, he's still up and about. He didn't crash? He didn't run? He is very brave or INCREDIBLY retarded. Time will tell as to which he is once the ranged platoon turns and sets its sights on the boisterous man. Their combined fire has but one purpose: cut off the head in hopes that the body will die.
In the meantime, the hole in the barricade is indeed just what the rest of the army needs. Though it's small, there's enough room for Chinese soldiers to flood through the gap. There is no stopping their superior numbers at the moment...and were it not for Rust, the Nepali forces would have already been overrun, caught from three sides by well-armed, well-trained killing machines. Now it's the Zulu platoon's turn to get their hands dirty, laying waste to whoever opposes them with striking butts and random gunfire. As for Rust, well...he's hardly noticed by the newcomers. After all, he is but one man!
The Charlie group really is in bad shape, aren't they? But as fellow countrymen, they can do great things together! As fighting spills into the Kathmandu streets, evacuated houses gradually become more and more torn by gunfire and grenades. Potted plants fall to the earth and find themselves treat under stomping boots as the defenders try to hold on. Casualties are piling up on both sides, even as evacuations continue mere blocks away. The sound of gunfire tears through the streets and what's worse, more Chinese soldiers are pouring in! Is there no end to them?
High overhead, a weak concrete bridge spans a walkway between two tall buildings. One left, one right, two Alpha team soldiers climb up flights of steps to place charges on key points. With any luck, they'll have them prepared and detonates just in time to stop the glut of invaders entering the city.
COMBATSYS: Xray-Company blocks Beta-Platoon's CQC Training.
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Whiskey-Platoon 0/-------/-----==|======-\-------\0 Alpha-Platoon
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////// ]
Xray-Company 0/-------/--=====|=======\-------\0 Beta-Platoon
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////////// ]
Yankee-Company 0/-------/=======|=======\-------\0 Charlie-Platoon
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////////////// ]
Zulu-Company 0/-------/---====|===----\-------\0 Rust
COMBATSYS: Xray-Company counters Wrecking Ball Swing from Rust with Opportune Distraction EX.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////////////// ]
Whiskey-Platoon 0/-------/-----==|======-\-------\0 Alpha-Platoon
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////// ]
Xray-Company 0/-------/=======|=======\-------\0 Beta-Platoon
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////////// ]
Yankee-Company 0/-------/=======|=======\-------\0 Charlie-Platoon
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////////////// ]
Zulu-Company 0/-------/---====|=====--\-------\0 Rust
COMBATSYS: Charlie-Platoon successfully hits Yankee-Company with Focus Fire.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////////////// ]
Whiskey-Platoon 0/-------/-----==|======-\-------\0 Alpha-Platoon
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////// ]
Xray-Company 0/-------/=======|=======\-------\0 Beta-Platoon
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////////// ]
Yankee-Company 1/------=/=======|=======\-------\1 Charlie-Platoon
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////////////// ]
Zulu-Company 0/-------/---====|=====--\-------\0 Rust
And this is the difference between novices and well-trained soldiers. The attempts to take on battle-hardened men is obvious as the explosions fire all about. There's a bridge coming down from on high, gunfire everywhere, and the battlefield is CHAOS. The slightest distraction is all one needs to strike, one instant of a man looking over his own shoulder for the Republic army to hol d their ground. While Xray is busy holding off the grunts, it would make sense for Rust to sneak in from behind and take some of them out. It's a tactic immediately immitated. Before Rust can even do more damage, he's set upon by almost half a dozen troops, tackled down and pushed into the torn-up pavement. An attempt to take him out of the equation, it seems.
At the same time, Yankee continues to try and push deeper into the city! The poor Alpha team will not be left alone, constantly hounded, its members crushed underfoot and beaten with ruthless efficiency. Fights begin to flood out into alleyways as the invaders strive to press their advantage!
COMBATSYS: Beta-Platoon blocks Zulu-Company's Pistol-whip.
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Whiskey-Platoon 0/-------/-----==|======-\-------\0 Alpha-Platoon
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////// ]
Xray-Company 0/-------/=======|=======\-------\0 Beta-Platoon
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////////// ]
Yankee-Company 1/------=/=======|=======\-------\1 Charlie-Platoon
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////////////// ]
Zulu-Company 0/-------/--=====|=====--\-------\0 Rust
COMBATSYS: Whiskey-Platoon successfully hits Beta-Platoon with Focus Fire.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////////////// ]
Whiskey-Platoon 0/-------/---====|======-\-------\0 Alpha-Platoon
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////// ]
Xray-Company 0/-------/=======|=======\-------\1 Beta-Platoon
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////////// ]
Yankee-Company 1/------=/=======|=======\-------\1 Charlie-Platoon
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////////////// ]
Zulu-Company 0/-------/--=====|=====--\-------\0 Rust
"Should we fall back, sergeant?!"
"No! Never fall back! Never surrender!" The sergeant is fierce as he joins the fighting, watching his ailed troop's efforts neatly turned aside, and the answering engagement find more success, another man down before he can fully commit himself. Glancing toward the purple-haired hellion, the scarred Nepalese raises his voice and speaks in jarring, broken English, "That is American way, yes? You fight with us?" Suddenly he spins as a bullet catches his cheek, ripping his face open, a flood of sickly crimson spattering thick and foul to the earth along with his rifle.
He straightens with a snarl a moment later, as a young female private falls back and offers a hand. He pats his aside, in the same motion pulling his pistol and letting rip on the soldier who almost took him down - and still might, that blood pounding hard from his broken head. "WE FIGHT WITH YOU, AMERICAN!" The woman beside him, wide-eyed but committed, takes up the cry, and opens fire with her own weapon at short range, leaving herself open as she snaps her eyes shut and just /holds that trigger down/.
The marksman of the Charlie Platoon loses his nerve after firing off the shots he does and quickly falls back down. This probably saves him his life as he frantically radios about relocating further in. His sergeant argues fervently while he only half-catches the plan about trying to detonate and blow up another encroaching enemy unit. They're panicked and quickly becoming exhausted, only able to return poorly organized return fire that benefits only from the narrower alleys that some of the enemy Yankee Company are flooding into in a poorly-communicated attempt to help cover the falling Beta Platoon.
"Uh, y-yeah," one Mr. Rust answers hastily as he's talked to while working towards that single grab and catching that grisly glimpse of that man's face being torn. If Howard really took a moment to stop and think about how quickly he seems to have accepted the situation, he'd really be horrified as he is suddenly beset by no less than half a dozen troops. There is nothing wrong about their approaches - almost any trick at their disposal to kill a man is no doubt being employed simultaneously, six times over. Nerves are pinched, his neck gets twisted (this bit feels good, actually, there was a serious crink in it), soft organs are poked at with sharp objects that fail to break skin. The important thing in the big picture is that he is halted. After all, he is just one man - this is really committing too much resources to the matter at hand.
He gropes about ineffectively in trying to individually push them back off. Even as one declares they'll fight alongside the American, it takes a whole lot of his inner strength to muster enough to try and shove them all off in one triumphant shove before taking in a deep breath.
The Chinese may not believe in fighters, but those special operatives who have swarmed him will all see the same thing coming from his leg - the flickering of washed-out chi energy as he strikes down and forward multiple times like a jackhammer, attempting to add in a bit of extra force to try and shake up their footing if he can't actually kick them with it (his legspan can only go so far).
He doesn't have time to inwardly grouse and wonder why he keeps falling into things like this.
COMBATSYS: Beta-Platoon successfully hits Whiskey-Platoon with Strong Shot.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////////////// ]
Whiskey-Platoon 0/-------/-======|======-\-------\0 Alpha-Platoon
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////// ]
Xray-Company 0/-------/=======|=======\=------\1 Beta-Platoon
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////////// ]
Yankee-Company 1/------=/=======|=======\-------\1 Charlie-Platoon
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////////// ]
Zulu-Company 0/-------/--=====|====---\-------\0 Rust
COMBATSYS: Zulu-Company slows Long Shot from Alpha-Platoon with Rocket Shower.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////////////// ]
Whiskey-Platoon 0/-------/-======|======-\-------\0 Alpha-Platoon
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////// ]
Xray-Company 0/-------/=======|=======\=------\1 Beta-Platoon
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////////// ]
Yankee-Company 1/------=/=======|=======\-------\1 Charlie-Platoon
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////////// ]
Zulu-Company 0/-------/-======|====---\-------\0 Rust
A bridge is coming down.
Let's focus on that a bit.
A BRIDGE is coming DOWN. Now, that's some serious shit. A mass of iron and concrete and glass is coming down. What would one normally do about it? Run? Catch it? Please. China BLOWS SHIT UP. In a wonder of reflex and preparation, a number of Zulu Company members have their RPGs whipped out as soon as the explosions above are heard. The hiss of propellent is heard time and time and time again as fresh rockets seek to shatter the falling piece of architecture. The two forces collide. Fire spreads. Bits of concrete and dust fly EVERYWHERE, parts of the bridge pulverized into hundreds of pieces. It's not enough to stop the whole thing, though. A few dozen men are lost under its weight, crushed and popped and free to leak blood on the road beneath. The rest of the men, however, have a job to do as they reload.
But the Whiskey team? It doesn't fare as well. The crazy woman's erratic gunfire catches soldier after solder. There are clipped ears, slugs lodged through skulls, lungs punctured. It's embarassing how effective the random spray is. As the only ranged team left, Whiskey members duck behind their trucks, popping up to lay down long bursts of sustained fire upon its apparent rival team.
COMBATSYS: Alpha-Platoon blocks Yankee-Company's Strong Kick.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////// ]
Whiskey-Platoon 0/-------/-======|=======\-------\0 Alpha-Platoon
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////// ]
Xray-Company 0/-------/=======|=======\=------\1 Beta-Platoon
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////////// ]
Yankee-Company 1/-----==/=======|=======\-------\1 Charlie-Platoon
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////////// ]
Zulu-Company 0/-------/-======|====---\-------\0 Rust
While they may try to trample them down, Alpha Platoon isn't about to let these dogs have their way! Continuing to try and cover for Charlie as they seek out deeper vantage points, it's become a collision of bodies in the alleyways and thin streets leading deeper into the city. There's little room for gunfire here; it's a battle of wills and might, men pushing on other men, in turn pushed from behind to try and overpower the other side.
COMBATSYS: Xray-Company interrupts Jackhammer Kick from Rust with Pistol-whip.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////// ]
Whiskey-Platoon 0/-------/-======|=======\-------\0 Alpha-Platoon
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////// ]
Xray-Company 1/-----==/=======|=======\=------\1 Beta-Platoon
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////////// ]
Yankee-Company 1/-----==/=======|=======\-------\1 Charlie-Platoon
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////////////// ]
Zulu-Company 0/-------/-======|======-\-------\0 Rust
COMBATSYS: Alpha-Platoon successfully hits Yankee-Company with Medium Throw.
-* CRITICAL HIT! *-
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////// ]
Whiskey-Platoon 0/-------/-======|=======\-------\1 Alpha-Platoon
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////// ]
Xray-Company 1/-----==/=======|=======\=------\1 Beta-Platoon
[ \\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////////// ]
Yankee-Company 1/---====/=======|=======\-------\1 Charlie-Platoon
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////////////// ]
Zulu-Company 0/-------/-======|======-\-------\0 Rust
COMBATSYS: Charlie-Platoon successfully hits Yankee-Company with Strong Shot.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////// ]
Whiskey-Platoon 0/-------/-======|=======\-------\1 Alpha-Platoon
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////// ]
Xray-Company 1/-----==/=======|=======\=------\1 Beta-Platoon
[ \\\\\\\ < > /////////////// ]
Yankee-Company 1/-======/=======|=======\=------\1 Charlie-Platoon
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////////////// ]
Zulu-Company 0/-------/-======|======-\-------\0 Rust
It's a bad day for Yankee Company. Their opponents know this city far better than they. They know where the corral invaders and where to stand their ground. This is one of those locations. In a place too small to utilize their numbers, it's nothing for the combined efforts of Alpha and Charlie to rip through their dwindling forces. Dead men pile over one another, forcing a temporary retreat. Or is it? Yankee withdrawns back into the main street in short order, but there's an overpowering TICKING coming from the pile of corpses. Each of them bears a single, now-blinking light. A timer.
Shit.
All at once, the pile of bodies explodes in a furious gout of fire, worn incendiaries remotely detonated by the surviving company members. The force is enough to take out the buildings on either side of the alley...and then some.
Xray, however, fares much better, in a manner of speaking. It's sad that many of them are trying to stop the purple-headed menace that's making a mockery of them, but they are difficult to completely defeat. When he kicks one away, another latches onto him from behind with a headbutt. When Rust may shrug that guy off, someone else entirely lands a kidney punch from behind. It never ends, his constant assault under the swarm of Republic forces. The question is: who will drop first?
COMBATSYS: Beta-Platoon dodges Whiskey-Platoon's Strong Shot.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////// ]
Whiskey-Platoon 0/-------/-======|=======\-------\1 Alpha-Platoon
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////// ]
Xray-Company 1/-----==/=======|=======\=------\1 Beta-Platoon
[ \\\\\\\ < > /////////////// ]
Yankee-Company 0/-------/-----==|=======\=------\1 Charlie-Platoon
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////////////// ]
Zulu-Company 0/-------/-======|======-\-------\0 Rust
It's not just the American who seems crazy to the few remaining Betas; it's everything about this setup. The Peoples' Republic of China may have a quarrel with them, but they've never had reason to suspect they'd become a target of this magnitude - the exploding bridge, the gouts of flame and burning bodies that subsequently fly through the town centre, it's almost too much for the psyche to handle.
The private keeps firing until her AK-47 emits click after forbidding click, fully spent of ammo. Her eyes re-widen, only the descending hand of her sergeant preventing further hesitation. He grabs her shoulder, then sweeps her down with a smooth motion of the other arm, bodily plowing her into the dirt as the answering shots come. "Focus!" He urges, coughing and sputtering around his own body's ichor, "If the American will die for our people, we must too; but not without a fight! Get to the American... help him..." Tailing off in a grunt, he rises to his feet as a break in the fire comes, thrusting her toward Rust. With no time to acknowledge, she breaks into a dash, pulling at her arm to get free the small medical kit stored there.
The sarge straightens up, facing down the remnants of the enemy company with a broad grin as he whips a combat knife from his kevlar vest. "You want to kill me? You want to leave us all dead in our own filth? Then come! Let us see who deserves to win this war!"
As he makes his stand, the private runs gasping up to Rust, bits and pieces of kit scattered behind. In her hand, a full syringe, hastily pulled from its heremtically sealed package. "American-- we have not much, but we have this. Make us fight strong! Fast! Even when hurt." Giving him a nod of reassurance, she then wastes no time in plunging the needle into his bicep, squeezing until every last drop has made its bitter, uncomfortable entrance. The resulting surge is... strong, to say the least, but energising rather than dizzying.
Charlie Platoon gets a bit of a rally as they start forcing the momentum back. The sergeant, should he survive, will be quick to claim credit for this to his superiors when the man behind Alpha really handled the large amount of the tactical oversight - though many are still injured, some looking unlikely to survive their injuries as they hunker down in another small building, they're ready to push back.
They have the advantage of cover where their harder-working Alpha Platoon countrymen do not from the sudden burst of flaming, charred bodies. The smoke covers their view.
"<<Fire into it!>>" Yells the sergeant in charge of what's left of Charlie.
"<<We're not firing into our countrymen,>>" says a panicked squad leader, showing true concern given the smokescreen of that explosion.
"<<Do not be insubordinant! Fire! Fire!>>" Where there was fright, there is confidence - the Charlie sergeant sees an opportunity to get ahead, and he wants to take it.
"<<Sir, enemy movement, 3 o'clock,>>" says a scout, "<<if we shoot now we might be able to head them off...>>"
The sergeant growls and directs gunners back a ways towards where the enemy Whiskey Platoon is coming. They're being more cautious with their shots, but one of them gets the brilliant idea to toss a brick into the gas pedal of an unattended truck and hope it careens the correct way down towards them - can one truck really stand against many as a battering ram?
Howard, meanwhile, finds he's making the same mistakes that nearly cost him back when two thugs were trying to accost a young woman at Pacific, and finds himself having to back away as he's struck to little to no real lasting effect up against a wall. Given the explosions and damage, his back is really not up against solid cover, but...
Suddenly, the private intervenes, of which Howard thrusts up his left arm as if to think 'oh shit, they might shoot this one,' unable to really get the full meaning of her words with all the exploding and holy shit is that a body from over there flying this way?
It should be noted that Howard Rust hates needles. No, not for any phobia - he literally has to call an acupuncture expert for any injections or blood tests when he goes to the doctor, and that is expensive. Most of the time the needle just can't pierce him, but somehow, some way, the private manages to plunge it just right that it pierces his skin. There is a discomforting twinge.
There's also really no time to thank her, stepping forward with his left arm swung outward as if a hastily done attempt to cover her from those elites as he swings his right elbow into one of the soldiers, hoping to them follow it up with a hard backhand of Ol' Rusty to try and send him into a small crowd of his fellows as the syringe's contents flow through him.
COMBATSYS: Beta-Platoon successfully hits Rust with Combat Medic.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////// ]
Whiskey-Platoon 0/-------/-======|=======\-------\1 Alpha-Platoon
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////// ]
Xray-Company 1/-----==/=======|=------\-------\0 Beta-Platoon
[ \\\\\\\ < > ////////////// ]
Yankee-Company 0/-------/-----==|=======\-------\0 Charlie-Platoon
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////////////// ]
Zulu-Company 0/-------/-======|======-\-------\0 Rust
COMBATSYS: Whiskey-Platoon dodges Charlie-Platoon's Truck Bashing.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////// ]
Whiskey-Platoon 0/-------/-======|=======\-------\1 Alpha-Platoon
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////// ]
Xray-Company 1/-----==/=======|=------\-------\0 Beta-Platoon
[ \\\\\\\ < > ////////////// ]
Yankee-Company 0/-------/-----==|=======\-------\1 Charlie-Platoon
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////////////// ]
Zulu-Company 0/-------/-======|=====--\-------\0 Rust
Cautious is a good word for it. As a smaller group, Whiskey is used to having to be careful. They don't have the numbers to support more overt tactics, so they work at support, staying at range. A fresh batch of chittering comes as one man notices the truck coming their way! The whole remnanets of the Platoon dive in all directions, at least those AWAY from the oncoming vehicle. It's not the first time such an attempt was made in this battle alone; in fact, it's to be expected! Picking themselves up, gathering together, they meet up with the sizeable, but rather exhausted-looking Zulu company to bolster its numbers. Rushing in on the poor city's defenders, both groups now keep the fight close. Sargeant, medic, sniper; no one in Beta team will be left alive if they have any say in the matter!
COMBATSYS: Alpha-Platoon blocks Yankee-Company's All-Out Assault.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////// ]
Whiskey-Platoon 0/-------/-======|=======\==-----\1 Alpha-Platoon
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////// ]
Xray-Company 1/-----==/=======|=------\-------\0 Beta-Platoon
[ \\\\\\\ < > ////////////// ]
Yankee-Company 0/-------/-----==|=======\-------\1 Charlie-Platoon
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////////////// ]
Zulu-Company 0/-------/-======|=====--\-------\0 Rust
Perhaps Beta team has the right idea. The American is putting up an incredible resistance all by himself! He's taking blows that have been dropping their soldiers left and right. The ugly-haired man has quickly become a source of morale and inspiration! And honestly, that sort of thing is needed when one sees people blowing up their own kin just to get a shot at someone. The act of blowing up their own comrades is sickening, appalling. Riflemen watch in disgust and horror as it happens.
"<<Go! Go! Help him!>>
Momentarily stunned by the despicable act, Yankee is ignored for fear of what else they may try. Alpha's medics rush through the battle, some falling to gunfire and boot, but at least two reach the poor man. They, too, manage to jam their needles into his arm, giving up their own supplies for his sake. It's the least that they can do, really.
COMBATSYS: Xray-Company fails to counter Crushing Strike from Rust with Threat Assessment.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////// ]
Whiskey-Platoon 0/-------/-======|==-----\-------\0 Alpha-Platoon
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////// ]
Xray-Company 0/-------/--=====|=------\-------\0 Beta-Platoon
[ \\\\\\\ < > ////////////// ]
Yankee-Company 0/-------/-----==|=======\-------\1 Charlie-Platoon
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////////////// ]
Zulu-Company 0/-------/-======|======-\-------\0 Rust
Somehow...somehow, Yankee lives. Their show of complete disregard for their own dead is not at all what people know of the Chinese. They REVERE their dead; to profane them is the highest insult. Never have People's Republic forces been so...so callous.
Good. Let them be afraid. Let them shift their focus.
As medics try to slip through the fight, Yankee's men are quick to take advantage of the situation. Pulling from their bandoliers a number of grenades, they pool their limited resources into the hands of their remaining demolitionist. But what can he do? He can't fire them all. Or CAN he?
Over the edge of a blown-out wall, the Charlie Platoon can see an incoming RPG, but it wobbles. Tied to its head are hand grenades, their pins all pulled for an explosive bouquet.
Over on the other side of the block, Xray continues to try and take down the American pain in the ass. He hits damned hard, and sometimes, it hurts to even HIT him. What's worse, he's being pumped full of...of something that's making him into some sort of superman! The more tactical fighters watch, they wait for an opportunity to strike as they have all this time before, but it's different now. He's too quick, too tough...and their attempts at penetrating his defenses only result in more bodies flying overhead than ever before!
COMBATSYS: Beta-Platoon blocks Zulu-Company's Quick Punch.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////// ]
Whiskey-Platoon 0/-------/-======|==-----\-------\0 Alpha-Platoon
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////// ]
Xray-Company 0/-------/--=====|==-----\-------\0 Beta-Platoon
[ \\\\\\ < > ////////////// ]
Yankee-Company 0/-------/-----==|=======\-------\1 Charlie-Platoon
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////////////// ]
Zulu-Company 0/-------/-======|======-\-------\0 Rust
COMBATSYS: Beta-Platoon dodges Whiskey-Platoon's Light Kick.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////// ]
Whiskey-Platoon 0/-------/-======|==-----\-------\0 Alpha-Platoon
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////// ]
Xray-Company 0/-------/--=====|==-----\-------\0 Beta-Platoon
[ \\\\\\ < > ////////////// ]
Yankee-Company 0/-------/-----==|=======\-------\1 Charlie-Platoon
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////////////// ]
Zulu-Company 0/-------/-======|======-\-------\0 Rust
The enemy ranks are closing upon the sole surviving Betas, even as the Alpha medics rush to keep Rust upright and fighting. It's what saves the brave little private, dropping her own needle and stepping back as the unfortunately-capped Yankee stands stalwart to protect her. The swarming mass supporting his towering personage provide her the cover to obey her sergeant's wordless battlecry, the same spirit emboldening her as he strides forward, throwing up a muscled arm to block an incoming rifle butt then ducking underneath a viciously swung knife.
Flipping his own blade around, he rises up the private reaches his side, flashing her a foully blooded grin as he reverses the blade and swipes it in a wild arc, staving off the incoming combatants. "In your own time, private! Open fire!" Swallowing rapidly, the woman is in the midst of imitating his own motion - swaying past an incoming thrust - as she reaches back to pull her handgun. The low-calibre weapon is brought up as she leaps away, her aim loose but reasonably deft as she empties her clip in short, staccato bursts of the semi-automatic.
She's trying to plow them down one at a time; going for the torso and... the knees, just like the Hero of Nepal has advised.
COMBATSYS: Charlie-Platoon dodges Yankee-Company's Rocket Shower.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////// ]
Whiskey-Platoon 0/-------/-======|==-----\-------\0 Alpha-Platoon
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////// ]
Xray-Company 0/-------/--=====|==-----\-------\0 Beta-Platoon
[ \\\\\\ < > ////////////// ]
Yankee-Company 0/-------/----===|=======\-------\1 Charlie-Platoon
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////////////// ]
Zulu-Company 0/-------/-======|======-\-------\0 Rust
"<<INCOMING!>>" Screams a Charlie rifleman at the oncoming assault tied with all the explosives. There's a lot of them shuffled in a small space, making their orderly retreat seemingly impossible, but they do it. This is because some of them are so scared to try and leap out of a second story window. The explosion collapses the building, cutting the barely organized lot into two - those outside, those trapped down another difficult path, and maybe one or two buried alive. They avoid being wiped out, but it is no clear avoidance of certain death - one of those trapped in the rubble is the sergeant of Charlie, who at least seems well enough to be hastily pulled out.
For a lack of any real orders in their panic, those stuck on the outside street where most of the action has been happening find themselves attempting to charge forward to push back the Zulu Squadron's numbers. They are outnumbered and are risking death in their hopes to plow them over.
Meanwhile, Rust nearly recoils at someone else managing to jab a needle into him - he's moments away from accidentally elbow striking the first friendly soldier in the aftermath of pushing away the hostile operatives that plagued him these last few moments, until there's actually a whole lot of them trying to help do their part. Of those that make it, it's difficult for Howard to say 'hey, whoa, hold on,' unaware that he is now being treated as the hope of an entire nation against an unending onslaught of superior trained soldiers - this is their way of showing confidence.
Willingly getting themselves shot at and killed just for his sake, another tier of terror that has yet to sink in even as one needle-wielding medic takes several tries just to get the tip of the needle in under incredible duress.
He is met with an incredibly difficult choice when enemy forces are converging on the remainders of one such squadron that he is up next to by proxy - he can't sand and take all the shots, maybe he could open up a hole in one of the walls for the enemy soldiers to enter but it might be too late. The fiery smoke just ahead is rife with death and foul stench, a wobbly rocket having just flown a ways over his head to where Charlie is holed up.
He waves his left finger once as if to say 'please stay there,' and charges further into the Xray Company's numbers. He's not really fast of foot - the odd crink of one of his knees suggests a weakness he fights off, but through the smoke and dead bodies a ways away, he gets a very unpleasant flashback to Rolento's assistance that saw him surrounded by equally dead bodies.
With that, he charges into a shoulder tackle, attempting to pile a few of them together before turning and swinging outward with Ol' Rusty to try and knock down a couple more in a combination tackle-strike in hopes that /being/ a target might save those Alpha medics and few Bravo guys behind him.
COMBATSYS: Alpha-Platoon successfully hits Rust with Combat Medic.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////// ]
Whiskey-Platoon 0/-------/-======|==-----\-------\0 Alpha-Platoon
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////// ]
Xray-Company 0/-------/--=====|==-----\-------\0 Beta-Platoon
[ \\\\\\ < > ////////////// ]
Yankee-Company 0/-------/----===|=======\-------\1 Charlie-Platoon
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////////////////// ]
Zulu-Company 0/-------/-======|======-\-------\0 Rust
COMBATSYS: Charlie-Platoon successfully hits Zulu-Company with Fierce Punch.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////// ]
Whiskey-Platoon 0/-------/-======|==-----\-------\0 Alpha-Platoon
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////// ]
Xray-Company 0/-------/--=====|==-----\-------\0 Beta-Platoon
[ \\\\\\ < > ////////////// ]
Yankee-Company 0/-------/----===|=======\-------\1 Charlie-Platoon
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////////////////// ]
Zulu-Company 1/------=/=======|======-\-------\0 Rust
What is WITH this damned sargeant?! The man is set upon from two different sides, and he will not go down. It's insulting to say the least, that one guy--no, that two guys are repelling dozens of men! Whiskey Platoon is not going to stop until the Beta leader is down. As their numbers dwindle, so too does their organization. There aren't enough men to cover others with gunfire. All they can do is continue to aim for vitals, to swing their knives and try to take off the rest of the bastard's face. He moves well for having an entire cheek missing.
At the same time, Zulu has problems of its own. Charlie just comes out of NOWHERE (but don't they always?), running down man after man in a stunningly effective act of desperation. The invaders are faltering, but not yet out. Even as they're being pared down, surviving forces regroup and reassess the battlefield, hiding inside a near building as they reload and recover.
COMBATSYS: Zulu-Company gathers its will.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////// ]
Whiskey-Platoon 0/-------/-======|==-----\-------\0 Alpha-Platoon
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////// ]
Xray-Company 0/-------/--=====|==-----\-------\0 Beta-Platoon
[ \\\\\\ < > ////////////// ]
Yankee-Company 0/-------/----===|=======\-------\1 Charlie-Platoon
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////////////////// ]
Zulu-Company 1/--=====/=======|======-\-------\0 Rust
Two can play at that game. After finally recovering from the shock of Yankee's terrible attack, enough of them come around to smack each other into coming around again. Though not in immediate danger of the blast, they still have to duck away from the Charlie team as the bouquet of grenades wreaks havoc upon the meager buildings that are increasingly weakened by the combat. Pieces of furniture and architecture fly up in powdered bits, falling all around the huddled-up Alphas. Even now, they don't want to get close, though! Pulling grenades from their own stores, pins are pulled and tossed around the corner, through the alleyway now full of burnt flesh and pieces of bodies. There are a few tinks as they clatter by the Yankee group's feet. There are mere seconds for them to get away.
COMBATSYS: Yankee-Company dodges Beta-Platoon's Bullet Spread.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////// ]
Whiskey-Platoon 0/-------/-======|==-----\-------\0 Alpha-Platoon
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////// ]
Xray-Company 0/-------/--=====|==-----\-------\0 Beta-Platoon
[ \\\\\\ < > ////////////// ]
Yankee-Company 0/-------/----===|=======\-------\1 Charlie-Platoon
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////////////////// ]
Zulu-Company 1/--=====/=======|======-\-------\0 Rust
COMBATSYS: Alpha-Platoon successfully hits Yankee-Company with Grenade Volley.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////// ]
Whiskey-Platoon 0/-------/-======|====---\-------\0 Alpha-Platoon
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////// ]
Xray-Company 0/-------/--=====|==-----\-------\0 Beta-Platoon
[ \\ < > ////////////// ]
Yankee-Company 0/-------/--=====|=======\-------\1 Charlie-Platoon
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////////////////// ]
Zulu-Company 1/--=====/=======|======-\-------\0 Rust
COMBATSYS: Xray-Company endures Rust's Armed Combo.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////// ]
Whiskey-Platoon 0/-------/-======|====---\-------\0 Alpha-Platoon
[ \\\\\\\\\\ < > ////// ]
Xray-Company 1/-------/=======|==-----\-------\0 Beta-Platoon
[ \\ < > ////////////// ]
Yankee-Company 0/-------/--=====|=======\-------\1 Charlie-Platoon
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////////////////// ]
Zulu-Company 1/--=====/=======|=======\-------\0 Rust
Yankee Company doesn't have a prayer. They're caught between a hail of gunfire and explosives. To their credit, they don't even hear the latter as they seek cover from the former. Ducking behind walls, hiding behind a truck, sprinting into another alleyway... They're simply trying to keep from dying. But they're pinned, herded, held down for Alpha's cowardly attempt at finishing them off. They don't realize that anything's amiss until they suffer the sting of shrapnel ripping through them. Most of them survive it, but the wounds are fatal. Pierced lungs, gouged eyes. None of them are in any condition to fight.It doesn't stop them from firing blindly, however, all about them!
And Xray, god. Rust is murdering them left and right, wading through them with that pipe like some sort of toupe-adorned Babe Ruth! There's a call from the back of the team, however, and the Company's mindset changes. As one, they rush the man, letting him take down whoever they can. It's not him they're after anymore: it's the medics. Alpha team's medics, specifically. They're not about to have them offer any more aid, even if it might already be too late! If they can get their hands on them, the resulting mess will NOT be pretty.
COMBATSYS: Yankee-Company can no longer fight.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////// ]
Whiskey-Platoon 0/-------/-======|====---\-------\0 Alpha-Platoon
[ \\\\\\\\\\ < > ////// ]
Xray-Company 1/-------/=======|==-----\-------\0 Beta-Platoon
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////// ]
Zulu-Company 1/--=====/=======|=======\-------\1 Charlie-Platoon
> ////////////////////////// ]
|=======\-------\0 Rust
COMBATSYS: Beta-Platoon fails to interrupt CQC Training from Whiskey-Platoon with Grenade Volley.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////// ]
Whiskey-Platoon 0/-------/=======|====---\-------\0 Alpha-Platoon
[ \\\\\\\\\ < > / ]
Xray-Company 0/-------/-------|==-----\-------\0 Beta-Platoon
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////// ]
Zulu-Company 1/--=====/=======|=======\-------\1 Charlie-Platoon
> ////////////////////////// ]
|=======\-------\0 Rust
Already missing half his face, and a scar covering his right eye, the Beta sergeant may be made of vitriol and titanium, but he's ill-set to see every attack coming his way. As the private beside him is beset by the charging troops of the Chinese forces, he elects not to try anything fancy, no dodging or even any form of defence - he just bulls the woman aside the second her pistol clip is emptied without success. She throws out her own arm, landing hard but safe in the dirt as her superior pulls a belt of grenades from his waist and--
Takes a knife to the gut, the blade thrust deep, immediately pumping gouts of blood to match that still dribbling from his ravaged cheek. A 'hurk' leaves his lips, before he spits full-bore in the face of his assailant; and that's pretty much it, his body going down moments later as others lay the damage on thick, steel flashing in the sunlight as he's cut into ribbons by the men he has spent so long resisting.
"<<Rout them! Rout them!>>" Without the oversight of their glory-seeking sergeant, the adrenaline-fueled outside half of the Platoon - left to their own devices - is letting the heat of the battle cloud their judgments as Zulu goes into a building to regroup. There is no telling if there's actually civilians still holed up in there, but they try to take advantage of this all the same as they hastily toss in grenades into the temporary stronghold of Zulu. They're running low on munitions and supplies - Nepal woefully underprepared their forces - and the lack of organization should soon make them easy enough to pick off.
A fact weighing over the Charlie sergeant's mind as he's pulled out. "<<Report, I want reports!>>" He mutters, but he's not getting much back as he looks over to those few gathered by him - and the realization he's been walled off with a smaller part of his platoon thanks to the ruins that split them in two. He feels that fear again that maybe, he might not live to profit off a successful defense while those underneath him get their stuff together. It takes a lot of shouting, and morale's at an all-time low.
Rust, for his part, feels that odd tingly feeling that might be a high from those combat drugs they stuck in him, but there's no doubting he's starting to control the flow against the Chinese soldiers - yet, what's proving incredibly worrying is how they are all filtering aside him. He's expecting another flank, to have to deal with another crowd trying to subdue him... but, no, they're moving past him towards the softer, weaker targets. It's true, he's not a large enough man to be a blockade unto himself. He can't run after them, he's too slow. He has no idea how to actually activate the explosives, though he finds one unconscious soldier in front of him clutching one.
He grabs it without thinking, unaware if it's already got the pin pulled or what have you. All he's got going for him now is a hail mary shot with a baseball-like pitch.
"H-HEADS UP!" He tries to call out, though the shouting ends in a noxious cough as the explosive that may or may not be live might be the only way to stop those who moved past him - but they might be too far out of his throwing range at this point, feeling a hollow feeling as he knows that many of who's left there are medics who are probably defenseless - given the Geneva Convention and all.
COMBATSYS: Charlie-Platoon successfully hits Zulu-Company with Focus Fire.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////// ]
Whiskey-Platoon 0/-------/=======|====---\-------\0 Alpha-Platoon
[ \\\\\\\\\ < > / ]
Xray-Company 0/-------/-------|==-----\-------\0 Beta-Platoon
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////// ]
Zulu-Company 1/=======/=======|=======\-------\1 Charlie-Platoon
> ////////////////////////// ]
|=======\-------\0 Rust
The Zulu Company's makeshift stronghold is perhaps the worst idea they might have had. Indoors, they're sitting ducks. They don't know these buildings, the doors ones can enter through. They're easy targets for Charlie's forces to ripe into. HOWEVER, its small rooms limit the damage a bit. From over the bleeding corpses come the refreshed survivors, all loaded with the fresh ammo clips! Lead and flame come belching forth as they attempt to gun down Charlie's forces in its entirety in a single rush of excessive power.
Whiskey, on the other hand, can finally shift its focus. With the Beta Sargeant dead, there's no one to save their medic, is there? At least, no one in reach. Rust might be able to, if he's quick, but the swarm of men around him make it difficult. So, too, does Whiskey join in the assault toward Alpha's medics, but not before trying to grab Beta's surviving member by the hair so that they can finally put a slug in their damned brain.
COMBATSYS: Yankee-Company successfully hits Alpha-Platoon with Pot Shots.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////// ]
Whiskey-Platoon 0/-------/=======|=====--\-------\0 Alpha-Platoon
[ \\\\\\\\\ < > / ]
Xray-Company 0/-------/-------|==-----\-------\0 Beta-Platoon
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////// ]
Zulu-Company 0/-------/----===|=======\-------\1 Charlie-Platoon
> ////////////////////////// ]
|=======\-------\0 Rust
COMBATSYS: Xray-Company successfully hits Alpha-Platoon with Questionable Tactics.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /// ]
Whiskey-Platoon 0/-------/=======|=======\=------\1 Alpha-Platoon
[ \\\\\\\\\ < > / ]
Xray-Company 0/-------/-------|==-----\-------\0 Beta-Platoon
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////// ]
Zulu-Company 0/-------/----===|=======\-------\1 Charlie-Platoon
> ////////////////////////// ]
|=======\-------\0 Rust
Though previously frightened, the Alpha team waits quietly. There's the sound of explosions, of grenades going off and the screams of shredded soldiers. Did it...is it possible? Did they actually finish off the invading scum?! The half-dozen surviving Alpha members peer around corners, drawing closer and closer, just to make sure. The first man to stick his head around the corner finds a bullet in his face from the dying team's random gunfire. The rest scramble for cover, but weakened walls and lucky shots are just too much for them! On the other side of the battlefield, the only surviving medics back up against the nearest wall as Xray forces bear down on them. The resulting massacre is much like piranhas after fresh meat: they never had any chance at all. In seconds, they're left broken and gutted, the last of their team unable to do a thing to help them.
COMBATSYS: Alpha-Platoon takes no action.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > / ]
Whiskey-Platoon 0/-------/=======|==-----\-------\0 Beta-Platoon
[ \\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////// ]
Xray-Company 0/-------/-------|=======\-------\1 Charlie-Platoon
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////////////////// ]
Zulu-Company 0/-------/----===|=======\-------\0 Rust
COMBATSYS: Alpha-Platoon can no longer fight.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > / ]
Whiskey-Platoon 0/-------/=======|==-----\-------\0 Beta-Platoon
[ \\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////// ]
Xray-Company 0/-------/-------|=======\-------\1 Charlie-Platoon
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////////////////// ]
Zulu-Company 0/-------/----===|=======\-------\0 Rust
COMBATSYS: Xray-Company catches Thrown Object from Rust with Riot Shield.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > / ]
Whiskey-Platoon 0/-------/=======|==-----\-------\0 Beta-Platoon
[ \\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////// ]
Xray-Company 0/-------/------=|=======\-------\1 Charlie-Platoon
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////////////////// ]
Zulu-Company 0/-------/----===|=======\-------\0 Rust
One team down.
To think that it took THIS long to incapacitate a single Platoon. Vega will be furious. How many men left China to take over this little hole of a country, and they've already lost over half of them? Well...casualties do happen. The surviving Xray members regroup as well, but they have precious little time before Rust seeks to interrupt them again. Like an idiot, however, he warns them of the danger and it's just...a single grenade? Pathetic. From the back of one of the heartier soldiers, a riot shield is pulled out, thrust forward, and made to bear the force of the grenade's impact. Bearing little but scorch marks and tiny nicks from flying shrapnel, the team is otherwise unharmed!
COMBATSYS: Whiskey-Platoon successfully hits Beta-Platoon with Quick Shot.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ]
Whiskey-Platoon 0/-------/=======|===----\-------\0 Beta-Platoon
[ \\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////// ]
Xray-Company 0/-------/------=|=======\-------\1 Charlie-Platoon
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////////////////// ]
Zulu-Company 0/-------/----===|=======\-------\0 Rust
War is a harsh, brutal thing...
There is a time for heroes, but there is also a time when they must die.
Beta's private was saved from a grisly fate thrice-over already - the reaper had been knocking upon her door, and though she struggles valiantly against the striving hand and the solid grip, the dark and sweaty strands of her hair are hauled back flush to her skull. It hurts; but not as much as the knowledge that she's failed, tears brimming in her eyes even as her jaw grits one last, defiant and desperate gesture against the Chinese oppressor.
"The American will save us. I die gladly."
The shot rings out. Her time has come.
When her body hits the ground, all that bold grit, all that patriotic vigour means nothing. There is only death.
COMBATSYS: Beta-Platoon takes no action.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////// ]
Whiskey-Platoon 0/-------/=======|=======\-------\1 Charlie-Platoon
[ \\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////////////////// ]
Xray-Company 0/-------/------=|=======\-------\0 Rust
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Zulu-Company 0/-------/----===|
COMBATSYS: Beta-Platoon can no longer fight.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////// ]
Whiskey-Platoon 0/-------/=======|=======\-------\1 Charlie-Platoon
[ \\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////////////////// ]
Xray-Company 0/-------/------=|=======\-------\0 Rust
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Zulu-Company 0/-------/----===|
COMBATSYS: Zulu-Company successfully hits Charlie-Platoon with All-Out Assault.
- Power hit! -
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > / ]
Whiskey-Platoon 0/-------/=======|>>>>>>>\>>>>>>>\2 Charlie-Platoon
[ \\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////////////////// ]
Xray-Company 0/-------/------=|=======\-------\0 Rust
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Zulu-Company 0/-------/----===|
"<<Through this way,>>" says one of the Charlie soldiers as he manages to use his knowledge of the streets.
"<<Ahead! There's the rest of us.>>" Says another, signaling to the rest - including the sergeant.
"<<They seem to have things handled,>>" he says slyly. They have this. They have this. This will look so good, even as scouting reports come up that the other two platoons have been eliminated. Such arrogance on his end...
This arrogance paid for in spades, as Zulu comes charging out in droves. Those who were advancing are wiped out on the spot in a hail of unrelenting gunfire, to say nothing of those who were moving to regroup. Left and right, they are all shot down and out.
The sergeant runs for his life, unwilling to face death with his own men. One of the stationed mortars, since abandoned as the barricade was struck, seems to be his only chance for something resembling cover as he dives for it. The Zulu team won't hold up - a sharpshooter manages to peg the man in the head straight-on, his lifeless body flopping over as his newly opened noggin trips the button to fire a mortar shell.
He might accidentally be a hero in death. If only... he could've avoided the 'death' part.
Rust, meanwhile, can't see past the converging forces that have zeroed in on the holed-up medics. He can't make assumptions to how well they're holding up - the fog of war is a nasty thing. He cannot hear the dying words of faith the sole surviving private of the Beta Platoon has for him. All he knows, as a general thing, is people are dying left and right - that chilling shot right at the beginning of that woman crying over a body is a stark reminder. It's going to sting him deeply when all's said and done... if he lives.
He's no doubt surrounded on three sides, alone. What the hell is a man going to do? He looks to Ol' Rusty (even now he still thinks this inanimate object has feelings, the crazy American), all around... well, shit. There's no place for him to run.
All that's left to do, maybe, is just force himself a path as he points Ol' Rusty out towards the Xray unit once. Maybe it's a tell, but he decides to move forth into it with a slow jog as he rolls out a kink in his left shoulder. There's no real technique to it - they get close, he tries to swat them down with a rusted length of lead pipe.
What he doesn't realize is that way, he'll learn the medics' fates. Something he may not be prepared for.
COMBATSYS: Charlie-Platoon can no longer fight.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////////////////// ]
Whiskey-Platoon 0/-------/=======|=======\-------\0 Rust
[ \\\\\\\\\ <
Xray-Company 0/-------/------=|
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Zulu-Company 0/-------/----===|
COMBATSYS: Charlie-Platoon successfully hits Zulu-Company with Mortar Fire.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////////////////// ]
Whiskey-Platoon 0/-------/=======|=======\-------\0 Rust
[ \\\\\\\\\ <
Xray-Company 0/-------/------=|
[ \\\\\\\\ <
Zulu-Company 0/-------/=======|
COMBATSYS: Xray-Company blocks Rust's Fierce Strike.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////////////////// ]
Whiskey-Platoon 0/-------/=======|=======\-------\1 Rust
[ \\\\\\\ <
Xray-Company 0/-------/-----==|
[ \\\\\\\\ <
Zulu-Company 0/-------/=======|
The Charlie sargeant's final act is indeed one of heroics. Nobody has to know that he was dead when he fired the final volley. After all, the mortars still fired, the shells still rained death upon the Zulu team. And yet, despite the vengeance...is it really a victory? Nepal's forces have been completely obliterated. If they wanted to, the remaining Republic forces could simply push past Rust and take the city. Could they? Should they take that risk? As the din of battle dies down, as the survivors check their numbers and supplies, the old man is still doggedly trying to save the nation. Hero of Nepal, indeed. Though he may take down a man or two here, they are numerous. Remnants of two companies and one platoon all converge now, their guns levelled toward the old ex-shop teacher trying to make a difference. Ah, but surrounding him like this? A firefight would be suicide. He's survived this long; would bullets even work?
That's when, as one group, every last member of China's forces dogpile on the man. Clawing, punching, kicking, they make one hell of an effort into tearing into the guy like a pack of hungry wolves!
COMBATSYS: Rust blocks Whiskey-Platoon's Medium Throw.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////////////// ]
Whiskey-Platoon 0/-------/=======|=======\-------\1 Rust
[ \\\\\\\ <
Xray-Company 0/-------/-----==|
[ \\\\\\\\\ <
Zulu-Company 0/-------/=======|
COMBATSYS: Rust blocks Zulu-Company's Fierce Punch.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////////////// ]
Whiskey-Platoon 0/-------/=======|=======\-------\1 Rust
[ \\\\\\\ <
Xray-Company 0/-------/-----==|
[ \\\\\\\\\ <
Zulu-Company 0/-------/=======|
COMBATSYS: Rust blocks Xray-Company's Strong Kick.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////////////////// ]
Whiskey-Platoon 0/-------/=======|=======\=------\1 Rust
[ \\\\\\\ <
Xray-Company 0/-------/----===|
[ \\\\\\\\\ <
Zulu-Company 0/-------/=======|
Howard blearily looks out to the bodies from all that he can see past whatever part of that one squadron he's been trying to make his way through, although they crowd upon him like a rabid pack of wolves. He really only needs one glimpse.
He doesn't want it, but he needs that glimpse, and he can see it. The private who inspired many to come to his personal aid, face down in a pool of her blood. The many bodies littered about. This, combined with whatever drugs they tried to pump through him (a few needles still stick out of him), make his expression go blank.
The soldiers - highly trained, highly fervent people of the nation of China - are all converging upon him. At some point it seems more they're all fighting to get a piece of him.
His left hand tenses tightly into a fist so tight that the gloves he wears prevents them from seeing how close bone comes to protruding skin. They all strike at him with what they have. Knives tear cloth, but fail to cut open flesh. Some might fall over as he turns around, finding himself wading through the onslaught of three entire Chinese military regiments. It doesn't occur to him that he is seeing how far he's come as a fighter, how far his persistence in chasing his dream or the added instruction of the Kyokugen discipline have brought him. He /is/ a man who dead-lifted a blast door, a man who survived the entire focus of the element of fire as wielded by one corrupted by an eldritch horror he still does not really know the full details about.
"You know," he starts mumbling, "I had... I had a pretty bad day," he growls as he actually has to lift up his left forearm to stop a shot to his eyes, joints crackling in protest at moving at all, "makin' a, a new living... comin' to, to y'know, work on that," he murmurs as he wades further in.
"I don't, don't even wanna think... how many of 'em just had, had the... worst god damn days of their lives," he growls, of course this was the /last/ day of their lives for many of them. "What the... what the hell're you even..."
He doesn't bother finishing that, swinging Ol' Rusty down low with his right hand as he fights the joints locking up in his right arm. He spins his wrist a little, slowly. That he somehow weathers their attempts to pull him down without flinching might be a warning sign.
With one loud, guttural (if gravely) shout, he suddenly swings Ol' Rusty upwards - the tip scraping loudly enough against ruined road - in a powerful advancing uppercut that threatens to send pretty much the lot of them a good two stories up or higher, to clear many of them out of the way. Given how they all converge, it is not entirely easy to really parse down the potential damage to exactly one squad designation.
Perhaps the so-nicknamed Xray Company will bear the fullest brunt of it for their countrymen, if they can't find some way to restrain him.
COMBATSYS: Rust successfully hits Xray-Company with Cement Upper.
>>> Punitive Hit!!! <<<
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////////////// ]
Whiskey-Platoon 0/-------/=======|=======\==-----\1 Rust
[ \\ <
Xray-Company 0/-------/-======|
[ \\\\\\\\\ <
Zulu-Company 0/-------/=======|
And just like that, Rust shows these men just what the Hero is all about. With that single swing, guys that weren't even HIT go flying outward, lifted by the wind of the swing or -something-. The guys that are actually struck careen skyward, landing on top of buildings and leaking out of busted, bloodied faces. They don't get up, of course. In one move, the entirety of the Xray Company is wiped out. The other two groups look on in utter horror. For once, their stoic, well-trained facade is broken. They SHOULD have ignored this man, they should have gone on to take the rest of the city, but now? Now they know it would have been in vain. Rust, this man, this purple-haired beast, would have found them.
And now they have to stop him.
Some soldiers piece up the remnants of Xray's munitions. Others press an assault, attempting to keep Rust at bay. Bullets spray into the asphalt at his feat, bouncing up and away and making it dangerous to try and cross for any SANE man. At the same time, the remaining soldiers level every last rocket launcher they have at the man. It's another show of overkill, but this man HAS to be taken down.
COMBATSYS: Xray-Company can no longer fight.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////////////// ]
Whiskey-Platoon 0/-------/=======|=======\==-----\1 Rust
[ \\\\\\\\\ <
Zulu-Company 0/-------/=======|
COMBATSYS: Xray-Company successfully hits Rust with Rocket Shower.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////////////// ]
Whiskey-Platoon 0/-------/=======|=======\====---\1 Rust
[ \\\\\\\ <
Zulu-Company 0/-------/=======|
COMBATSYS: Rust blocks Zulu-Company's Rocket Shower.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////// ]
Whiskey-Platoon 0/-------/=======|=======\=====--\1 Rust
[ \\\\\\\ <
Zulu-Company 1/-------/=======|
COMBATSYS: Rust endures Whiskey-Platoon's Bullet Spread.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////// ]
Whiskey-Platoon 0/-------/=======|=======\======-\1 Rust
[ \\\\\\\ <
Zulu-Company 1/-------/=======|
Thanks to the combat drugs, he really can't feel the numbness in his arm, circulation nearly ruptured into internal bleeding from how tightly he keeps moving now that the forces seem to be retreating, to be trying to pepper him with explosives left and right. Hot, fiery death along with incredible concussive force not meant to be withstood by a human being by any measure in the least.
His form disappears in the first wave of explosions, but as it clears, they can see that it blows up much of his top. There is visible burn marks - even the beginnings of blood. It answers their questions, at least. He's a man, he can bleed.
That he is /just/ bleeding and not blown to smithereens is the worrying part, a second volley being met with his left shoulder. The purple hairpiece - inexplicably - survives ground zero, flapping up only once and unhinging the adhesive to it enough that it starts covering one of his eyes. He is unflinching.
"Every, every time shit like, like that happens," he complains in a low voice, "I get, I get... s-so much... shit from insurance, do you... do you even know," this spite seems to stir him on. They retreat faster than he can really keep up, at the moment.
One of the last bits of the second volley accidentally overshoots and strikes from behind, the explosive force managing to push the ex-shop teacher and junior Kyokugen instructor forward enough that the little mosquitoes trying to take him out at the shins don't do them any good as he brings his right foot back, leaning forward.
"Get outta here," he says, "get, get outta here, I... I'm havin' a really... really bad day, and... and God help me, if, if I g-get my... hands..." He doesn't finish, as a flickering, washed-out energy gathers at the tip of his foot.
He does fall to a kneel with one more volley of gunfire, the knee crackling loudly. Did they break it? No, his body is trying to encourage him to stop moving. This forward tripping motion lets the energy in his leg fly forward at a speed it generally doesn't, a teetering, unbalanced circular disc of chi that looks ready to teeter or flicker out of existence at any moment as it moves towards the surviving rocket slingers.
Manifesting power that the Chinese forces may have believed a myth, there is almost little to fear individually from the encroaching chi projectile that spins about so low to the ground. The problem is, there's a small stack of explosives in its way - if it made contact with that, well... that might be far worse than the shin drubbing it threatens to give regardless.
COMBATSYS: Rust successfully hits Zulu-Company with Detour.
>>> Punitive Hit!!! <<<
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////// ]
Whiskey-Platoon 0/-------/=======|======-\-------\0 Rust
[ \ <
Zulu-Company 1/---====/=======|
Rust may indeed strike a frightening figure. Here he is, standing against an ARMY. He is weather the blows of rockets and bullets and he's not even showing a hint of backing down. No, instead, he's coming for more. What WAS in the drugs that he'd been pumped up with? He wasn't such an obstacle before! In fact, he was getting his ass handed to him a bit. Now, he seems invincible. It's almost enough to strip the survivors of their morale entirely, save for one thing...
Vega is far, FAR more frightening than Rust.
Even as a disc of whatever the HELL that light was takes out most of the Zulu team, the rest continue to stand their ground. To retreat now is to admit failure. To admit failure is to invite death, and death is not something that the Psycho Master allows easily. These men would rather suffer themselves beaten and broken and blasted to hell and back before having to deal with an unhappy, shadowy master. After a brief moment of wavering, whoever is left buckles down. One way or another, this conflict is going to end, be it for the great People's Republic of China and her rulers, or with Rust snatching victory from the jaws of defeat. Every last bit of ammo is scrounged and scavenged. Single bullets are stuffed into cartridges and hand grenades are pulled off of corpses. Hell, one guy even throws a tire iron at the man! Those that aren't trying to gun the guy down are already rushing toward him, heedless of the danger that running into crossfire may be. They are men possessed, and only Rust's death or theirs will bring them peace.
COMBATSYS: Whiskey-Platoon successfully hits Rust with CQC Training.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////// ]
Whiskey-Platoon 1/-------/=======|=======\-------\0 Rust
[ \ <
Zulu-Company 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: Rust dodges Zulu-Company's All-Out Assault.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////// ]
Whiskey-Platoon 1/-------/=======|=======\-------\0 Rust
[ \ <
Zulu-Company 0/-------/-------|
Whiskey waylays into the man. He's already in a kneeling position, which is a bad place for anyone to be. He visibly flinches at last, even as his so-numb-it-may-not-be-there left arm is lazily swung to try and head off blows with extremely limited success. They even manage to get him down to a seated position.
They're cocking guns, throwing grenades. He's not going to have any of that, but he is stiff. C'mon, he growls to himself, I'm not dying to some goddamn terrorists, I'm not gonna have some TV play some still photo of me while a president I sure as hell did not vote for says crap about me to feed votes into his re-election...
It's enough to fit his legs as his knees creak loudly into a hop. His jumping height remains unimpressive by any and all stretches of the imagination, but it's just enough to clear the blasts, the gunfire... he doesn't think for a moment that those poor guys are about to get themselves killed throwing himself into that gunfire.
Coming atop one lone gunman as a bullet whizzes by him, he gives him one stare as he lands, shaking his head once in disapproval before ramming his shoulder into him hard enough to try and toss him into a crowd. He was once fighting three entire units on his own. Now... it's just one big mob.
One very big mob he's ready to see run home, the drugs overriding common sense and concern beyond that level deep down that's probably primarily responsible for how he's managed to hold himself in the throes of one of the first of many battles in the war.
COMBATSYS: Rust successfully hits Zulu-Company with Medium Throw.
>>> Punitive Hit!!! <<<
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////// ]
Whiskey-Platoon 1/-------/=======|=======\-------\0 Rust
[ <
Zulu-Company 0/-------/----===|
Did he...? Did that man just EVADE a blanket of fire despite being assaulted in close combat? It's incredible, it really is. The constant clicking of spent weapons abound, revealing the loss of one of the group's last offenses. It doesn't matter much, as the lone fighter goes about tearing up what's left of the Zulu company. It's now clear as to why China outlawed such people: they are clearly freaks, too dangerous for mankind to suffer!
Down to the last two dozen soldiers, the Whiskey squad looks to one another. Is it worth fighting THIS? Can they run? Can they just...hide somewhere? No...no, they probably can't. Finally, brief condolences are given in their hong-bong language, people told how nice it's been to serve next to them.
As one group, the Whiskey Platoon--or what's left of it--tries again to trample Rust down.
COMBATSYS: Zulu-Company takes no action.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////// ]
Whiskey-Platoon 1/-------/=======|=======\-------\0 Rust
COMBATSYS: Zulu-Company can no longer fight.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////// ]
Whiskey-Platoon 1/-------/=======|=======\-------\0 Rust
COMBATSYS: Rust interrupts Strong Kick from Whiskey-Platoon with Bulldozer.
> Determined Hit! <
[ \\\\\\\\\ < > /////////// ]
Whiskey-Platoon 1/----===/=======|=======\=------\1 Rust
Howard makes no further communicative gestures. He is tiring - he is slowing down. He was never a fast-moving figure even at the peak of health, but the bleeding and the unpleasant sound of his creaking joints should say... foreign monster representing all that is wrong with humanity, please die, let glorious mother country protect those who cannot from people like you.
They all start coming at him again with a wing and a prayer. He turns around, holding Ol' Rust in both hands as he... crouches? Sits on thin air? His body shakes oddly, lips vibrating. Though the lasting injuries to his right hand make the grip on Ol' Rusty suspect, it's that his left hand is so numb that he's not even sure he's clenching a fist around it.
Then, somehow, through bizarre muscular control or witchcraft, he moves forward across the rough, beaten, bombarded asphalt. The bodies form what would be a comical pile were the whole subject matter not entirely grisly, morbid, and real. Many have died today.
This appears almost theatrical as those of the two dozen remaining are piled up and - after a ways - the aging American man falls downward, scooping up the still gathered by his feet and tossing them like a bulldozer lifting dirt into its bin in the back.
Howard doesn't find the mental imagery humorous, and never has - the bizarre technique modeled a bit after his construction working days is always performed with utmost sincerity. It is the maneuver that overpowered the full hatred of the fire incarnate Brihan.
These men are beaten, tired, and all but completely demoralized. The only thing driving them is fear of failure. So clouded is their judgement that they don't even know that they've ALREADY failed; they're just drawing out the inevitable! They seem to be doing little to bring the one-man force of nature down. For each kick they land, they lose three men, and bodies are just flying everywhere as he makes the most uncanny impression. It's not a good return. Nobody understands that's going on. People are flying. HE is throwing him? Unconscious soldiers fall to the pavement one by one. But they keep pushing.
Drawing from the knowledge that they're truly up against the wall, the fifteen or so soldiers split up. Each keeping their distance, they form a circle around the man, watching him carefully. There are a few seconds where everyone's too scared to move, where no one wants to be the sacrifice to start it all off. A sudden noise starts it: the scrape of boots on the road, the collapsing of a broken, blown-out wall, whatever. One soldier tears inward and away from the circle, heedless of his own safety. The rest follow immediately after, each trying to cut off Rust's paths for escape while allowing the others to beat the unholy HELL out of him.
COMBATSYS: Whiskey-Platoon successfully hits Rust with Pincer Attack.
[ \\\\\\\\\ < > //////// ]
Whiskey-Platoon 0/-------/-------|=======\===----\1 Rust
They beat on him. They carry an incredible advantage over one Howard Rust - the way he rocks back and forth while he fights his way back up to something resembling a stand that he never manages to. They all come upon him, all at once, again - the beatings feel real enough. He can feel it, even as he's down on the ground. The drugs might be wearing off. Maybe he really is actually having the crap beaten out of him. Someone actually gets a shot in his chest, and he feels it - he totally feels it. It's groanworthy that his entire body seizes up aga--
No, stop it, he thinks to himself. This isn't to them, he knows they're resigned to ganging up and hitting him. He can't really feel his left arm any more... all that's left to do is to drop Ol' Rusty. He needs that extra bit of fine dexterity as he struggles to sit himself up.
His right hand reaches out, trying to pull one of the guys as he stumbles backwards clumsily. With one hard tug back, he hopes to get that one guy he's holding face-to-face off balance, before he suddenly snaps his right arm forward, palm faced upwards - the typical Ko'ou Ken motion in Kyokugen, though there is no chi component to speak of. Attempting to line up shots like bowling pins is difficult with such a small, scattered number...
But I got one more in me, right, he thinks to himself, I got to have one more in me.
COMBATSYS: Rust successfully hits Whiskey-Platoon with Armed Combo.
> Determined Hit! <
[ \\\\ < > /////// ]
Whiskey-Platoon 0/-------/----===|=======\====---\1 Rust
A difficult task, but not impossible. As peopple gather around to beat on an increasingly-fatigued old man, some of them start lining up. There certainly isn't room enough for ALL of them to get their licks in, and for a moment, it seems like they might actually WIN. They just have to keep him down, to pummel him, to beat him until he stops getting back up.
But he keeps DOING just that!
Panting, sweating, and with looks of disbelief on their faces, half of the attempts to avoid Rust's grasp just end with people falling over. It's trivial for the guy to go smashing people about, because they can almost not move at all. Even after being knocked down, some of them try their damnest to rise, but they can't. They just can't. Whether they're trying to drag themselves with grasping hands or just outright passed out, the great army that seeked to invade Nepal is down to a mere five. Even if they win, there's no way that they can control the capitol like this. But at the very least? If these five men don't die, they'll have not failed. After all, without an army, how long can this country truly defend itself?
With that knowledge in mind, the last men standing crack knuckles and roll tired joints. It's just a slugfest for them now, putting all of their strength into just a single swing...from five different directions at once.
COMBATSYS: Rust blocks Whiskey-Platoon's Fierce Punch.
[ \\\\ < > ////// ]
Whiskey-Platoon 0/-------/----===|=======\=====--\1 Rust
Rust, back on his feet, has something back to a semblance of control of his positioning as he tiredly steps about to the side. One of them lunges at him... he manages to lean back and avoid it.
A second one actually gets him square in the back, which serves as a reminder that he's still surrounded. Skillfully, even in his physical, mental, and emotional exhaustion, Howard Rust carefully moves to get his back to something. This lets him do something like fight off the remaining three punches with his right arm. He doesn't block with his right arm or hand very much - most of the time it's holding Ol' Rusty. There's also the matter of that hand injury, the fear of losing use of it...
Which brings him to the actual martial arts discipline he's taken up to bolster what skills he already has. His arms... typically, already spoken for. Right hand is for Ol' Rusty. Left hand is for defense, grabbing people, where fine dexterity is needed. Much of his training - though it seems silly given his build suggests he's an all-out brawling punching kind of guy...
Went into his legs.
"Last, last demonstration," he says, "Kyokugen school," he brings an aching leg back as he takes in one deep breath and coughs, "'scuse me."
Now, they are lined up just right, and he goes for it - a forward leap as one of his legs strike out multiple times. It's hard for him to move forward - it's not the legendary Ryuuko Ranbu. It's Robert's famous variation of the Zan'retsuken with a little bit more forward momentum, a wave of kicks looking to put down the last of the people he can see in front of him, hoping he can carry enough momentum to take them all down in one shot (or possibly launch them into one another again - which would be great but he's too pressed to make such flashy skillshots - it's friggin' life or death).
Tirelessly, he strikes forward with kicks from the same leg that goes from low to high to low again - he is a Man at Work, a man whose job for the moment appears to be saving the entire nation of Nepal from invading forces in spite of why he really came out here.
COMBATSYS: Rust successfully hits Whiskey-Platoon with Man At Work.
>> Decisive Hit!! <<
[ < > ////// ]
Whiskey-Platoon 1/-------/=======|====---\-------\0 Rust
One by one, the last of the invading forces fall. Left to their own devices, they'd have undoubtedly crushed the Nepali troops and went right on to assault the rest of the city. But not today. Today marks the first failure in China's bid for world conquest! down the streets, people have pushed and shoved around police barricades and have come running in with makeshift weapons of all kinds in hand. Damned if they're going to hide away while their homes are burned and devestated!
When they find the battleground and see...Rust, alone, standing among a sea of carnage, they don't quite know what to expect. Is he one of theirs? Is he on China's side? He's not wearing any sort of uniform.
Thirty minutes later, the cheers of people run through the city upon news that the Chinese forces have been defeated! The police have their hands full trying to round up the survivors, while Rust himself is bodily lifted up and paraded around the city. Like it or not, he's going to live forever as their very own Hero.
COMBATSYS: Whiskey-Platoon takes no action.
> ////// ]
|====---\-------\0 Rust
COMBATSYS: Whiskey-Platoon can no longer fight.
> ////// ]
|====---\-------\0 Rust
Before the noise of simultaneous grief, shock, celebration, and thankfulness comes to light, Rust barely feels the weight of the last of the Chinese invaders as he kicks down each and every last one of them, stopping abruptly with an awful cramp in one of his legs... shit, he didn't do his stretches like he should have, he realizes.
As he crouches down, the stillness in the air is chilling to the very soul. He looks about to all the fallen bodies - this isn't the first time he's seen death, it won't be the last. There still remains something a bit scary about the fact he can probably - no, assuredly - kill an ordinary soldier in a single strike. Possibly more than one. To be strong enough to be able to defend when it matters... this thought doesn't cross him as he looks to Ol' Rusty down there on the ground.
In more casual fights, of less on the line, he'd feel bad for the pipe not getting able to get its share. After all, Ol' Rusty is a part of him. Yet, in the wake of what happened... for the briefest moment, Ol' Rusty is just that, a rusted length of pipe lying among wreckage, among ruin, among wounded and dead.
He walks over to pick it up, sticking it through a toolbelt pocket just as he hears sirens and people running out to the aide of their unlikely hero. He's not sure what to say to them - many of their countrymen died, there wasn't really much he could do individually to stop the deaths of those that did. Especially... those that seemed to believe in him, so strongly.
The idea that he's missing out on valuable prize money for his job as a full-time fighter, once the primary concern in his attempts to get his life fully on the track he wants it to be, fades into the background in the horrible truths of being a pivotal figure of this real, cruel, and very unfair war that China is bringing to the world.
COMBATSYS: Rust has ended the fight here.
Log created on 19:01:19 02/10/2012 by Vega, and last modified on 10:26:05 02/11/2012.