Wrote this last year for creative writing at school and got top marks for it! Yay
So here goes;
The Rescue Mission
By Tracyn Ordo
Whirr went my descenduer, as I rappelled down the fixed line from the transport hovering above me. It must have been quite a sight to see… A squad of eight men, in armour with weaponry and gear each weighing at least 120kg covering a thirty meter vertical drop in just over five seconds.
I looked back up at the transport majestically hanging there in the air, where it would stay until we called for an evac. My second in command approached and I turned to face him and my team, “The squad’s ready to move out Sarge, and Intel suggests the enemy has zero of our insert” said Rapier looking very menacing in his silver and black armour. “Thanks Rapier” I said. John ‘Rapier’ Freemont had been given the call sign Rapier due to his tall, wiry frame and cool logic under pressure. “Let’s go squad” I called out to the others, and with that we stole out of the clearing into the dark jungle.
After an hour of tabbing through the gloomy undergrowth, we had arrived at our destination, a ridge above a heavily guarded compound, in which there where twenty of our own mando troops being held captive. As soon as we had reached the ridge, the whole squad dropped to the ground as one, ‘I guess that is what, what seems like a lifetime of intensive training does to you!’ I mused to myself before being jerked back into reality, by the voice of Tony ‘Dead eye’ Dickenson, the squad sniper, “I’ve got them in my sights sir. Fourteen wets and ten tinnies on the outside, and the infrared indicates another twenty wets on the inside, plus our men in the basement level” I quickly worked out the odds in my head. Thirty four enemy humans and ten war droids didn’t look too bad against our eight men, not for us anyway, the best of the best, the mandalorian super commandos. However even with the three ultra-accurate, completely silent verpine sniper rifles our squad possessed, we would only be able to take out nine or twelve enemy troops before revealing our position, and becoming vulnerable to mortar fire.
“Hold your fire, Dead eye, a stealthier approach is required for this one because when they’re alerted to our attack the troops will start executing our men.”
“So Sarge, how are we going to do this?” asked Lee ‘Boomer’ Jenson a demolition expert, while subconsciously fingering a flash-bang.
“Nice and quiet like Boomer, nice and quiet like. However, Dead eye, Redoubt, Deo and Prankmeister, you stay outside here with the verps and the Z-6 to provide covering fire when Rapier, Boomer, Forger and I bust out of there with our men.”
Got it sir, I’ll man the Z-6” said Ben ‘Redoubt’ Reilly, the squad heavy weapons expert. He had earned the call sign Redoubt due to his 6’6”, 120kg frame and a certain predisposition for weapons with a high rate of fire.
“Deo, stand by for casualties” I said to Sam ‘Deo’ Jenkins the squad medic. “Okay men lets move out” I called and with a war chant of “Mhi te verde”, silent to the outside world due to our helmets, we moved into the darkness.
Within ten minutes Rapier, Boomer, Forger and I were at the back entrance to the compound, with four scorched sentry bodies lying on the ground around us.
“Forger, lets do this quietly” I said to Scott ‘Forger’ Kingston the team slicer, who had received his call sign Forger due to his hacking skills insofar as the computer terminal had to be removed from our barracks to prevent him from accessing information that he wasn’t meant to in his spare time. Needless to say within seconds he had the door hissing open, with a single utterance of “This is too easy!”
With out a word we all rushed single file in through the door, unleashing withering bursts of fire from our silenced rifles, taking care of the three enemy troops in the room before the even knew what hit them. We moved quickly from room to room with drilled precision, until another eleven corpses lay scattered at our feet and the building was clear. All the while the enemy troops on the outside of the complex remained oblivious of our presence. Something was nagging at me in the back of my mind, but with the adrenaline coursing through my veins and the safety of the twenty di’kutla captives in my mind I couldn’t put my finger on it so pushed it aside for later.
We entered the basement in textbook perfect style. The first thing that struck us was our twenty men strung up on the far wall as if crucified. They had all had their armour plates removed, and looked dishevelled and unkempt. We quickly set about cutting them down and retrieving their armour and weapons from the armoury behind a now open door courtesy of Forger, when all of a sudden six enemy troops dropped down from the ceiling vents mere fractions of seconds after some flash-bangs were thrown down in front of them. Five of the recently released men that were yet to
re-don their armour were cut down, their bodies exploding in thousands of red spurts. The last man down however, aimed a shot at Forger’s neck, just below his helmet. Time seemed to slow for me as he pulled the trigger of his gun, and the muzzle flash leapt out of the barrel fractionally ahead of the bullet. The next thing I knew Forger’s head had snapped back violently and he slumped to the ground. Time resuming it’s normal course I immediately opened fire with my rifle at the ambushers mowing down three of them down on a sprat of glassy red as they turned to face me. Meanwhile Boomer had shot two of the others right in the forehead, and Rapier was wrestling with the last man on the floor in hand-to-hand combat, his speciality. As soon as he was on top it was a one way fight. One powerful punch after another, until the man lay unconscious on the floor. Rapier calmly stood up, pulled out his handgun and without a hint of doubt, put two rounds into the man’s head.
Once we had all had time to recover we reloaded our weapons and the rest of the released men suited up in their armour. We assembled by the front door of the compound. Boomer placed a shaped charge of the door, we took a step back as it went off, and then while the smoke was still clearing eighteen men, fully clad in the distinctive mandalorian armour charged out, guns blazing. Simultaneously to add to out enemies confusion, Dead eye, Redoubt, Deo and Prankmeister opened fire. The effect as astounding! Within seconds their troops had been taken out, bar one, who had tripped me up and was standing above me with his gun aimed at my head as a final act of defiance. At this range even against the relatively weak power his pistol not even my beskar buy’ce would protect me. However, just as he began to pull the trigger, his whole body exploded in red bursts, from redoubt and the Z-6. The next thing I saw was the red and blue figure of Prankmeister, the teams scout, in his distinctive armour with the helmet’s T-shaped visor.
“Trip on a root sir?” he said offering me his hand.
Five minutes later we had collapsed from exhaustion on the transport, everyone in a sombre mood, with our fallen comrades armour stacked neatly in a pile in the corner, content, for now in the knowledge we were on the way back to the barracks, where a hot meal and shower awaited us, along with long sleepless nights once our friend’s deaths had truly sunk in.