The marines piled into the APC quickly. Immediately there was a bit of a traffic jam as everyone attempted to shift to make room for everyone that was there. The only person that had an adequate amount of room was the Corporal sitting in the driver’s seat. Everyone else was crammed into the back, the wounded were the only ones sitting in the chairs, strapped in hard so they wouldn’t be a jostled around by the ride. And every seat was full, with wounds varying from missing limbs to severe facial burns.
The platoon threw Morse down onto a seat near the door which was vacant, the unconscious Smartgunner still a very heavy burden to bear, as they locked him in. Then they all tried to make do and hold onto something that would brace themselves. The APC was clearly well over what was recommended capacity, but there was not a single individual there who seemed to care.
“Lock it up! Let’s move!” The Sergeant ordered, and the door was slid shut.
With a jolt the APC began to thunder forward, the sound of its weapon system firing on the roof was still audible in dull thuds as it was felt to turn around and speed away from the clearing that they were in.
They thundered away with speed, the marines mostly being quite, and trying to comfort the injured soldiers that were still conscious with words of encouragement, telling them how they were “going to make it” and they were “almost home.”
They rolled along for quite a while, the radio chatter consistently backing up the claim that they were needed to move off planet. Small arms fire could be heard dinging the side of the vehicles strong armor, but without any windows to see through, no one was sure where it came from.
There was suddenly a dull roar that seemed to come around the vehicle. It was a low humming sound that could only be one thing, a dropship overhead.
“We’re loading people! Brace!” The Sergeant at the front ordered, knowing that the group hitting the ramp would not be smooth.
Then the entire compartment could feel themselves suddenly being thrust in reverse, and then hitting a harsh bump. Everyone was kicked around by the fast thumping of the APC rolling up the Dropship ramp and locking itself into the craft. It hit the back wall of the dropship hard, and once again everyone was jostled around.
The sound of the ramp closing could be heard, along with tiny pings of no doubt more small arms fire hitting all around. The ramp locked with a clumping sound.
“Lift off in T-Minus, now!” a voice said over the radio, which was likely the pilot.
A rapid rumbling and the dropship was lifting off up into the air, everyone able to feel the sudden shifting in the gravity it did. The occupants of the vehicle could hear inside of the vehicle the sound of the engine roaring as hard as it could to start picking up speed.
There was a concern on everyone’s face as the vehicle lifted up into the air. They had all seen the weapons the colonists were using, and there was no way of knowing whether or not they’d be dealing more of it. This could very well have been the last trip for all of them, and so very little was said as they made their way up.
And up.
And up.
And up.
Until finally the rumbling stopped, and they reached orbit over the planet. The smoothness of the rest of the ride as a very welcome change. The dropship then shifted a little bit and leveled out, there was a shaking as the vehicle was gripped by a docking clamp and brought up into the large Conestoga Cruiser that had brought them there.
And moments later the APC rolled out again, and the door was opened.
All around there were marines, wounded, battered, and bruised. They were doing checks of their own people, looking for their units, being carted off to the medical bay, and generally breathing a sigh of relief that they’d made it out.
A pair of synthetics came to take Morse away to the med bay after reading he was severely injured, and were assured everything would be fine.
The remaining marines in the cargo bay were left with sound of the constant movement and swearing about what happened from the dozens of marines around them.
And then there came another call over the intercom.
“Fire Control Active. You are clear to engage, on my mark.” It was the sound of the vessels captain. There was a pause for several seconds, then a single word. “Fire.”
There was a light vibration under their feet, and the tone of an energy wave. It happened several times, and it was likely many of the occupants of the ship were experiencing their first nuclear bombardment.
The ship had been registered as unleashing six very powerful warheads down upon the planet’s surface. Anything that had been in their target radius, above or below the surface, would be completely obliterated, and the marines in the hanger let out a collective cheer and as well as a joint sigh of relief that they would be giving pay back to the enemy.
Up and Up
Up and Up
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-3rd Bn, 2nd Reg, 1st Co, 8th Plt
- DEVIL DAWG
- M41A Pulse Rifle - M4 Pistol - Med Kit
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