Makita (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
runmakitarun) wrote2007-12-30 11:26 pm
runmakitarun) wrote2007-12-30 11:26 pm
Entry tags:
Frozen killing fields
0:42:04
Makita doesn't slow her headlong pace as she reached the little plaza where Proto has indeed built the ramp. The plaza where they talked and kissed and kept each other warm what seems like ages ago.
She doesn't slow even when she glimpses the distinctive blue glow of a transport gate protokol. It means troops on the ground, and she can't afford to slow down. Still sprinting, her hands fly up to open her coat, giving her easy access to her extra magazines. Then she smoothly draws a pistol in each hand.
Adrenaline pours through her system and everything seems sharper somehow. Her father's words echo in her head.
Whenever possible, a warrior chooses the terrain in which to engage the enemy. Makita moves up against the wall surrounding the plaza. The Red squad is still arriving inside. They mistake the wall as terrain that protects them. She will show them otherwise.
By doing this, he has given himself the advantage of surprise, and therefore taken the initiative. The wall is in sorry shape, collapsing in multiple places, and missing bricks provide plenty of places to see what was on the other side. Makita does a quick count: a full squad with mortar support. Twenty targets.
Even though you may face superior forces, if you have laid a trap for them in this way you have made their numbers count for nothing. Running over her plan in her head, Makita nods and surges forward toward the next major break in the wall. All that is left to do is to attack.
In the fury of engagement, your actions must control your opponents' reactions. Makita twists slightly without changing her angle of movement. It's an awkward maneuver if you haven't done it thousands of times before. Makita's grin is feral as she opens fire and empties both pistols in the space of the few seconds it takes for her to pass the gap and find herself behind stone again.
Form patterns for the enemy to expect. Men scream as bullets tear into them. They thought themselves secure, and now the mortar team is a mangled collection of wounded and dying men. Makita lifts her pistols and a pair of still-warm magazines slide from them and into her loose-collared shirt. With practiced movements she draws fresh ones and reloads without slowing down. Just in time for the next gap.
Form patterns for the enemy to expect. The Reds are still reeling, not entirely sure where the attack is coming from. They scramble randomly and Makita's next two clips tear into them again. Someone must be paying attention. As she slides out of sight again Makita hears a voice yell, "Cut him off! Fire into the next gap! We'll pin him down and move in!"
Form patterns for the enemy to expect... When they react, change the pattern. Your preparation of the terrain should have given you the opportunity to accomplish this The ramp is there, just as Proto had said. Like all of the things he's built for her, it's an impressive structure. Simple and sturdy and constructed out of whatever odds and ends he could dig up, Makita sprints up it.
Makita almost misses a step when she spots the crude heart Proto scratched into the wall by the ramp (she knew it had to be Proto because he had also crudely scratched "Proto + Makita" inside it). Time seems to slow and all sound fades out except for the intense murmur of her father's remembered voice. The laughter of our loved ones is a fragile gift, my child. Happiness is not guaranteed in this world. When you have it, protect it. Let now one take it from you. For this world will stand against you. Any dream you try and create, there will be those that try to steal it from you.
And when they do... A hail of bullets from the Reds in the plaza fill the gap ahead of her with a wall of lead. But the ramp is perfectly positioned and as Makita reaches the top of it she throws herself up and forward, twisting in the air.
Fight them to the death. She clears the Red's fire by a few feet and pours her own back in their faces. In their hurry to bring their weapons to bear, the men in the plaza haven't had time to find cover. Another half dozen go down under Makita's fire before the arc of her leap takes her back behind the wall. She rolls lightly to her feet and sprints forward.
The Reds are too disorganized to pursue her, and she's in too much of a hurry to circle around and finish them. She has somewhere to be.
0:41:01
Makita runs.
Mostly cribbed from Red Star Annual #1 "Run Makita Run" by Christian Gossett.
Makita doesn't slow her headlong pace as she reached the little plaza where Proto has indeed built the ramp. The plaza where they talked and kissed and kept each other warm what seems like ages ago.
She doesn't slow even when she glimpses the distinctive blue glow of a transport gate protokol. It means troops on the ground, and she can't afford to slow down. Still sprinting, her hands fly up to open her coat, giving her easy access to her extra magazines. Then she smoothly draws a pistol in each hand.
Adrenaline pours through her system and everything seems sharper somehow. Her father's words echo in her head.
Whenever possible, a warrior chooses the terrain in which to engage the enemy. Makita moves up against the wall surrounding the plaza. The Red squad is still arriving inside. They mistake the wall as terrain that protects them. She will show them otherwise.
By doing this, he has given himself the advantage of surprise, and therefore taken the initiative. The wall is in sorry shape, collapsing in multiple places, and missing bricks provide plenty of places to see what was on the other side. Makita does a quick count: a full squad with mortar support. Twenty targets.
Even though you may face superior forces, if you have laid a trap for them in this way you have made their numbers count for nothing. Running over her plan in her head, Makita nods and surges forward toward the next major break in the wall. All that is left to do is to attack.
In the fury of engagement, your actions must control your opponents' reactions. Makita twists slightly without changing her angle of movement. It's an awkward maneuver if you haven't done it thousands of times before. Makita's grin is feral as she opens fire and empties both pistols in the space of the few seconds it takes for her to pass the gap and find herself behind stone again.
Form patterns for the enemy to expect. Men scream as bullets tear into them. They thought themselves secure, and now the mortar team is a mangled collection of wounded and dying men. Makita lifts her pistols and a pair of still-warm magazines slide from them and into her loose-collared shirt. With practiced movements she draws fresh ones and reloads without slowing down. Just in time for the next gap.
Form patterns for the enemy to expect. The Reds are still reeling, not entirely sure where the attack is coming from. They scramble randomly and Makita's next two clips tear into them again. Someone must be paying attention. As she slides out of sight again Makita hears a voice yell, "Cut him off! Fire into the next gap! We'll pin him down and move in!"
Form patterns for the enemy to expect... When they react, change the pattern. Your preparation of the terrain should have given you the opportunity to accomplish this The ramp is there, just as Proto had said. Like all of the things he's built for her, it's an impressive structure. Simple and sturdy and constructed out of whatever odds and ends he could dig up, Makita sprints up it.
Makita almost misses a step when she spots the crude heart Proto scratched into the wall by the ramp (she knew it had to be Proto because he had also crudely scratched "Proto + Makita" inside it). Time seems to slow and all sound fades out except for the intense murmur of her father's remembered voice. The laughter of our loved ones is a fragile gift, my child. Happiness is not guaranteed in this world. When you have it, protect it. Let now one take it from you. For this world will stand against you. Any dream you try and create, there will be those that try to steal it from you.
And when they do... A hail of bullets from the Reds in the plaza fill the gap ahead of her with a wall of lead. But the ramp is perfectly positioned and as Makita reaches the top of it she throws herself up and forward, twisting in the air.
Fight them to the death. She clears the Red's fire by a few feet and pours her own back in their faces. In their hurry to bring their weapons to bear, the men in the plaza haven't had time to find cover. Another half dozen go down under Makita's fire before the arc of her leap takes her back behind the wall. She rolls lightly to her feet and sprints forward.
The Reds are too disorganized to pursue her, and she's in too much of a hurry to circle around and finish them. She has somewhere to be.
0:41:01
Makita runs.
Mostly cribbed from Red Star Annual #1 "Run Makita Run" by Christian Gossett.