With the whole of 3 Section rounded up on the firing line laying lead down the range, Kyrgiakos barked a quick set of orders. “Alright, lads! You see that breach over there?” There was, indeed, a breach in the hull of the ship. It was a large one, torn open by the Destroyers’ 120mm guns. “We’re going to charge in there like the Scots at the Plains of Abraham.” The Plains of Abraham was a place where, in 1759, the British Army fought the French to take the Canadian city of Quebec as part of the Seven Years’ War. A Scottish highlander regiment famously charged the defending French Army not with guns or bayonets, but with broadswords. This eventually broke the French lines and opened a way for the British to Quebec.
“Jonesy! On my mark, lay down some smoke! The rest! Fiiix bayoneeeeeeets!”
The lads complied. They unsheathed their blades from their pouches. They slid it down the placeholder, and twisted it once to lock it. Tracers lit up the night sky around them. Bray went next to Smitty. “You good to go, man?” There was a mixed expression on his face, between fear and excitement. Smitty realized that they were running into enemy gunfire, and the prospect of it didn’t interest him that much. However, the men around him–Jonesy, Bray, Kyrgiakos, Sergeant Orisan, and the rest of the lads–gave Smitty a safe, warm, and assuring feeling. Having been with the unit for over six months now, Smitty knew that he could trust them, rely on them, and he knew they trusted him. He felt, as long as they stuck together, they could overcome anything. He looked at Bray.
“I’m good.” Smitty said. “Got an extra mag?”
Brayford noticed the SA45A2 in his hands. “I got four left. Here, take one.” He took one from his pouch and handed it to him. Smitty, in turn, put it in his spare ammo pouch.
“Cheers, mate.” He took off the magazine attached to his SA45A2 and checked the ammo levels by looking down the magazine. Visually unclear due to the low light, he banged the magazine against his helmet. Good sound. He pushed it back into the rifle. Amidst the action, his blood rose. He tried to calm himself down. “You got my arse, yeah?” Smitty said.
“Yeah, mate. Ever since basic.”
Smitty raised his hand. Bray took it. “I fucking love you, man, I fucking do.” Smitty said.
“Hey, no-homo, yeah?” he grinned.
As the bullets whizzed overhead, the machineguns rang loud, and rifles cracked, there was a cry from Jonesy. The boys knew what that meant. “CORPORAL! SMOKE READY!” He had loaded his 40mm under-barrel grenade launcher with 40mm SMOKE.
“Alright lads! Maaaake reeeeeady!” Kyrgiakos yelled. The men went on one knee, ready to charge, bayonets positioned to lead their advance. They would vault over or run around the jeeps and, going through the short, seventy five-meter gap between the ship and the jeeps, charge into the breach in the ship’s hull and open a pathway for the rest.
Jonesy positioned himself, ready to fire. Then, the command came from Kyrgiakos. Jonesy followed. Aiming by instinct, he launched the smoke grenade into the air, landing right in the middle of the 75-meter gap. He loaded his grenade launcher, and fired again. It landed closer now. The smoke canisters unleashed a cloud of smoke, and with the second beginning to release its own cloud, the men waited. When the cloud grew large enough, Kyrgiakos yelled: “ONTO THE BREACH, MEN! CHAAAARGE!”
Rifle in hand, the short, robust corporal vaulted over a jeep and ran into the hail of smoke, the rest of the troop laying down an intense suppressing fire onto the enemy positions.
In a furious cry, the men of 3 Section followed after him, including Smitty, whose limp felt like nothing as the adrenaline raised. He felt the world going slower as he ran into the smoke. His squadmates around him, he decided to keep going. Don’t let them down. The sound of gear shackled with every step he took. Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out. Bayonet leading the charge, he ran as fast as he could. Running was as simple as that: putting the left leg in front of the right, and then the right leg in front of the left in quick succession. Left. Right. Left. Right. Left. Right. Left-
There was a shout of pain from his right. He heard the thumping of a downed body.
“KEEP MOVING, LAAAADS!”
Breathe in. Breathe out. In. Out. In. Out.
They emerged out of the smoke. He could see the ship’s hull. He screamed the loudest shout he could ever scream. A war cry. The rest did to. Several enemy spacers guarded the entrance into the hull. Intimidated by the Marines, one dropped his weapon and ran. The petty officer – dressed in a navy jumpsuit – yelled a rallying cry. There was a shot that came from the Marines’ side. The petty officer fell. The spacers – some with guns and some with simple knives – held their position. Smitty charged despite the limp, and, seeing the face of his enemy, he struck the bayonet right into his unarmored guts. There was a cry of pain. Another man tried to pounce on him with a knife, in which he succeeded, but before he could stick it into him, a Marine shot him right through.
Corporal Kyrgiakos went in with the barrel of his weapon leading his steps. He saw a man popping out of cover. He shot him thrice; twice in the torso, one in the head. The man fell. Bray was behind him. In single-file, they entered the ship’s hull and scanned their surroundings. It was dark, but thanks to the Nightvision, they could see quite clearly. The breach led into a set of walls blown through by 120mm shells. He could see enemy spacers and a couple of Marines rushing to man the defenses. Kyrgiakos split the section up. Jonesy led one and went straight, Bray and Smitty behind him. They secured the hallway’s breach. Men were going down. Bray switched to full-auto. He sprayed rounds down the hole in the wall. Men fell from their feet. Blood colored the floor of the enemy ship red.
Then the rest of 4 Troop came in, pouring down the breach. Sergeant Orisan and men from 2 Section stacked up near a door. A corporal turned the wheel-lock and pushed it open. Orisan threw a grenade. It exploded. They went in. It led to another hallway. There was no one, aside from the bodies of the dead. Now it was time to navigate to the bridge and the captain’s quarters. The ship’s electronics were still active, and the lights were still very much on. They took pushed their night vision goggles off, their eyes greeting back the world which was full of color.
Linking up with Kyrgiakos’ section, Orisan told him. “Andy, Take four men including yourself. We’re headed to the captain’s quarters. Check ammo levels.”
“Copy.” He turned to his section. “Smitty, Bray, Jonesy, you’re coming with us.”
***
ns 15.158.61.48da2
