[@Tortoise]
[b][u]
New Hollywood
New Beijing
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[img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/0f6eced3-facd-4705-8f8c-a1ac450ea751.png[/img]
[url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LI-p2Srov-I]sound effects[/url]
Sergeant Justin Hask starred out into the city from the window of the blasted out remains of an apartment complex, laying against a more sturdier part of the wall, the sound of gunfire and explosions filling the air. He turned to face the rest of his squad, all tired and worn from all day of fighting in the streets, the battle taking its toll on all of them. Despite his own exhaustion, the sergeant mustered the strength and forced himself up with a loud groan. "Break time's over boys and girls." He said followed more loud groans from the rest of the squad. 

"Quit your bitchin'." Hask ordered. "FOB isn't too far, just ba-" Before Hask could finish his sentence. A loud bang was heard as he felt a warm, stinging, painful sensation somewhere in his chest area. Hask looked down as he saw blood stain pouring out of a fresh bullet wound. "Fuck.." He cursed as he fell over. "Sergeant's down!" One of the marines, a Urkani shouted out. 

"Take cover! Weapons free!" Another marine shouted. The room erupted into a frenzy of screams and gunfire as several squads of Protectors advanced from the street below. The marines ducked in cover as a hail of bullets reign over them. The room was clouded as dirt rose up, and the walls being reduced to dust. Hask's second in command, a Marcus Zaamil, time seemed to slow down, marines barely returning fire, peaking out of cover even once guaranteed a stray bullet in the head, gut, what does it matter? Zaamil shook himself back to reality, staring out like a deer at headlights won't a damn difference, certainly won't help his CO.  

"Get the sarge out of view!" Zaamil ordered the squad's medic. "Sir!" she complied as she drag him into out into the hallway, literally having to crawl both her and his way out of the killing zone. "What do we do now?!?" One of the marines shouted over the near-deafening gunfire. 

"We get the hell out that's what!" Zaamil declared. "On my mark, we fall back!"

3...2...1...-

Without warning, the unsettling jingle of a tossed grenade, even in the whirlwind of gunfire, could be heard narrowly. One of the marines looking wide eyed at a tumbling orb. "Fuckfuckfuck! GREANADE!" He cried out before the grenade set off, taking out the poor man as well, leaving a huge gapping hole where he and the apartment floor used to be, causing a chain reaction that led to the rest of the floor giving way to the weight. "Oh Christ.." Zaamil muttered as floor collapsed. He had blacked out, featureless shapes and lights moving back and forth, hearing the muffled screams of his squadmates, and that of the enemy, slowly opening his eyes as he found himself at the end of a gun barrel. "Get up." The Protector commanded, his subordinates not even waiting as they forced him up, the captain inspecting him. "Pile him up with the others for execution." 

Well...seemed like this is the end of the road, Zaamil never thought he'd die on some alien world far from home, he was tossed like a trash  into a pile gravely wounded marines, his sergeant among them. "It's been an honor.." Zaamil said meekly to Hask.

"Same.." He replied. The surviving marines forced to look in horror as their brothers in arms were about to meet an unceremonious end. "Ready!" The Protector Captain sounded off. "Aim! Fi-" The captain was interrupted by the roaring sounds of rotor engines, a gust of wind engulfing the area as several Gliders zoomed past the site, the firing squad's attention diverted to the incoming craft. "Shit!" The captain cursed out. "Battle positions!" Before he could bark out any more orders a single bang was from a gunshot echoed through the streets. Hask having pulled out his pistol, making a well placed shot in the heart. "Shouldn't have looked away..." Hask said, blacking out once more. The captain falling to his kneels, struggling to blurt out his orders, but simply fell as the Gliders returned, circling around the street. "This is your last warning! Fall back now or we [i]will[/i] fire!"

Without their captain, the Protectors quickly fell back to their trucks, driving off elsewhere in the city, following this, the Gliders made their landing as more marines hopped out. "Area secure!" One of them declared. Once the all clear was giving, Captain O'Brian stepped out one of the Gliders, inspecting the damage done, walking over to the pile of wounded. "Bastards..." He murmured, turning to the others. "Get these man back to base or they're as good as dead."

"Sir!" His soldiers rpelied in unison, rushing over as they carefully loaded the wounded.