Post by Coconut on Mar 11, 2009 13:19:50 GMT -5
The waves of tribesmen broke upon the United Nations Space Command forces like only those with little to fight for but without the knowledge to comprend that they were as good as already beaten, the big guns tearing through the flesh and bone of the tribesman with colossal booms, scoring deep, bloody scars through the earth and lining them with the ruined corpses of tribesmen. But still they came on, the weight of their numbers pressing down upon the United Nations Space Command and forcing their way forward over the bloodstained sand, through the storm of bullets that were hailed down upon them, their wild screams almost like animals as they reached the first barricade the United Nations Space Command had abandoned and began to climb over it. Matt had set up explosives in a few places, but there just hadn't been time for that many. In the few places there were, there was a loud crack as sand was hurled in the air and some tribesmen screamed as they were blown apart.
Yet they didn't stop. Through the howling, screaming tempest they continued, many falling as their comrades pressed forth over the broken, scarred ground. And some made it. Despite the terrible casualties, many, many tribesmen made it to the United Nations Space Command lines, drawing some sort of melee weapon that resembled swords and swinging it in an arc down upon the sandbags and sending them flying backwards as Matt brought his spiker down upon one, cleaving the man down and watching as blood flowed from him, yet he had no time to consider it; another was upon him, and Matt had found one of the energy swords the Elite's used. Strapping the reassuring weight to his wrist and igniting it, delighting in the flash it made, Matt swung it in an arc, decapitating two tribesmen as more and more strove to plug the breach.
There were many, many of the screaming, howling banshee like tribesmen pressing against the walls, and the United Nations Space Command couldn't hold them for long. The Elites... The Elites had come down with ships, from what Matt had been told; if those would be able to pick them up then wheel around and deal death from above... "Call the Elites!" Matt roared, into his comlink, to Russel who was further away from the noise of battle and so would be easy to call. "Have them come down and pick us all up; then they'll be able to drive the enemy back." If the ships put down some way behind, the United Nations Space Command would be able to beat a fighting retreat back to them, and so board them, escaping the tribesmen to be able to fight them off from above, perhaps forcing them to surrender. They wouldn't be killed, of course; Matt hoped they'd know that. Now, however, it was Russel's job to call in one of the shipmaster's.
Yet they didn't stop. Through the howling, screaming tempest they continued, many falling as their comrades pressed forth over the broken, scarred ground. And some made it. Despite the terrible casualties, many, many tribesmen made it to the United Nations Space Command lines, drawing some sort of melee weapon that resembled swords and swinging it in an arc down upon the sandbags and sending them flying backwards as Matt brought his spiker down upon one, cleaving the man down and watching as blood flowed from him, yet he had no time to consider it; another was upon him, and Matt had found one of the energy swords the Elite's used. Strapping the reassuring weight to his wrist and igniting it, delighting in the flash it made, Matt swung it in an arc, decapitating two tribesmen as more and more strove to plug the breach.
There were many, many of the screaming, howling banshee like tribesmen pressing against the walls, and the United Nations Space Command couldn't hold them for long. The Elites... The Elites had come down with ships, from what Matt had been told; if those would be able to pick them up then wheel around and deal death from above... "Call the Elites!" Matt roared, into his comlink, to Russel who was further away from the noise of battle and so would be easy to call. "Have them come down and pick us all up; then they'll be able to drive the enemy back." If the ships put down some way behind, the United Nations Space Command would be able to beat a fighting retreat back to them, and so board them, escaping the tribesmen to be able to fight them off from above, perhaps forcing them to surrender. They wouldn't be killed, of course; Matt hoped they'd know that. Now, however, it was Russel's job to call in one of the shipmaster's.