[color=f26522][b][u][i]A HAILSTORM FROM HADES[/i][/u][/b][/color]

A hailstorm from Hades itself, his old commander had once said to describe a live firefight. Their ambush had been short, efficient, brutal, They had ushered the alien soldier into Hades through a hail of lead. They put down those still moving, far away from the conventions of man and honorable combat. They were battling morals as alien as their environment. ANd now. The enemy came bearing vengeance for their fallen, like primitive beast elevated just so they wield advanced weapons. He found himself thinking it was nice to fight a war were the enemy was so clear cut. Us vs Them was a dangerous thing, but this truly was Us vs Them.

And right now, the us was charging them, death in their eyes. He was briefly reminded by the faces of angry fanatical men with bombs strapped to their pickup. Of course, they didn’t sound so fucking terrifying. They were met by the deafening noise of a pair of lmgs unloading, into the tree line before the two gunners began to move back. 

“Move!” He yelled to his soldiers, even as he they they began to beat feet backwards. He loaded a HE, took a knee and fired on in a beautiful arch that hit a tree and took the whole damn thing crashing down in the middle of the forward pack.  “Left side, Don’t let them spread and send runners to our flanks. If they Do, Danny is gonna have a party of lead in his future.” He said as he let off another grenade, this one not hitting anything of worth, only causing some of the advancing enemies into cover. Speaking of cover, Leqba lost his footing one something and as he righted himself he was woefully out of position. Swearing, Hedberg called out.

“Leqba, they are drawing a bead on your position,” he called to the large man as what appeared to be a pair of their enemies carrying a pair of larger rifles. The thought came unbidden. Sharpshooters. “Leqba, put your fucking head do-”  Then Henderson saw it; a glimmer of something and and then he heard the sharp, unmistakable report of a high power, heavy caliber rifle. 



There was the sound of metal and wet meat colliding and he saw Leqba fall, a crater where the left eye should be, whatever calliber those sharshooters used was easily the equivelent of a 50.cal. A second shot hit Leqba in the chest, showing a sense of syncronisity and a intent on making sure there were killshots. From the entrence wound and the way Legbas body pushed of the ground at the hit, he wondered if they had hit him with a antitank round. The noise was a thing nobody really got used to. It was a different thing when it was from you or allies guns. 


“Sniper, 3’0 clock, bearing left!, They are moving towards elevation!” Henderson called out.


Usually the enemy was to far away. But when a friendly got hit, that split second of a ping, and the slight sizzle of expunging kinetic energy turning a friend or ally into so much dead meat. He saw Joe, face screwed up in pain, take one look, then doubling his efforts to move out. “Good Man…” The Sarge mumbed. “Always keep moving.” 

But there was a noise no alien roar could drown out. It was the AR-10. The gatling gun angel of death. The loud ‘brrrrrt’ of hundreds of rounds shredding foliage and aggressors alike, followed by the screaming death and gurgling demise of their enemies brought a savage grin to the man's face. “That’s for Leqba motherfuckers.” He mumbled before barking out orders. “Keep moving!”