Sergeant John Amirault looked around at the eighteen Jihaddi arrayed around him in his "Amtrac" landing and assault craft. Sixty-three other craft like this one, carrying a total of over 1,100 troops, were cruising towards the beach. The battle was already well underway, with 3,000 of the Zahn's 5,000 troops, and a similar number of Jihaddi from the other two heavy carriers, were in the shit. Overhead, fighters, fighter/ bombers, and the helicopter gunships were coming back around on thier third run as well.
"Alright, men!" the gunner in the turret up top yelled down. "We're entering range of the sponge guns, and as you know, we're also in artillery range. Get your stuff ready, because you are going to be on that beach in under a minute! Good luck out there!"
Amirault shifted nervously and pulled out his gear. The Jihaddi and his eighteen buddies were now only a few hundred meters away from the coast, and the hollow bongs of incoming artillery were now clearly audible through the thin hull of the "Amtrac". He glanced about to the troops under his command, who glanced back. All tried to seem eager about the upcoming attack, but the sergeant knew they were all wishing they were elsewhere.
A plane soared overhead at maybe a hundred feet. Tomcat, the Marine thought. Something else was going to get blasted in a few moments as he checked his gear. The item he was most interested in was his M-16A2 assault rifle, complete with a 40mm grenade launcher and bayonet. The other people in the "Amtrac" had similar armaments. Two of the troops in the transport carried between them a REASON rotary railgun - one was in each four or five transports to provide general covering fire for the landed troops. A handful of other soldiers carried AT-4 LAWs and Stingers for anti-armor and anti-air support, and of course, a handful had weaponry of their own. Knives, small pistols, shotguns, grenades, a laser pistol, and assorted other light arms rounded out the platoon's arsenal.
The 19 troops were shocked out of any last-minute reveries by high-pitched pings sounding off the armor. The "Amtrac" was armored against 7.62mm bullets, but not much else. They were close to the beach now.
Suddenly the gunner opened up with his grenade launcher, spitting twelve 40mm grenades a second into sponge positions on the coast. The sixty-three other Amtracs opened up, firing over 750 grenades a second onto the coast, flattening Lyran and sponge positions in a solid wave of explosions.
"We're almost on the beach!" the gunner yelled from his cupola after swinging a spray of grenades onto the beach. "Get ready to debark, troops! Good luck!"
Amirault nodded thanks to the gunner, who went back to spraying death at the beach, before returning to business mode. "Alright, men!" he yelled. "You guys are about to see action! Stay together, do not hide behind the Amtrac, and set your weapons to single fire, aimed shots only! REASON crew, set up around a hundred meters inland! Good luck!" The Amtrac's door opened, and the sounds of battle suddenly got five times as loud. The roars of artillery, stacatto cracks of assault rifle, and screaming aircraft overhead drowned out the deep booms of explosions and the high-pitched pings of armor being hit.
Sergeant Amirault and his eighteen troops immediately jumped out of the transport, hitting the dirt as a stream of 0.50-caliber shells swept overhead, putting holes in the Amtrac the size of a fist. The gunner responded by pulling his turret around and spitting grenades in the direction, but a string of shots tore through the turret. The top of the Amtrac exploded as the few grenades left cooked off, and the transport backed off the beach, belching smoke from the top. It wouldn't see action again today.
A Kamov Ka-50 "Hokum" attack helicopter screamed overhead towards the site of the gunfire - a stray chopper pilot evidently saw the action. The fighter/chopper pointed in the general direction of the gunfire, and as one, twenty 80-millimeter rockets dropped off the ship in four groups of five and streaked towards the handful of trees where the shots were evidently coming from. A set of fireballs consumed the brush and the gun fell silent.
Amirault saluted at the helicopter from his prone position. The Kamov pilot saw it, and 'bowed' the nose at Amirault's platoon before heading inland again. I've got to thank that guy later, the sergeant thought.
"Move, people!" he then shouted at his troops. "Head inland, you aren't doing any good when you're up to your knees in water! MOVE!" His troops shook themselves back to reality, got up, and began heading inland, covering each other and the REASON team. It didn't seem anyone was wounded.
Amirault shot one last glance towards the smoking "Amtrac", and began to run inland after them, occaisionally stopping to fire a burst towards a spot that fire was coming from.
It was then that the enemy counterattack finally came.