07-28-2016, 08:33 PM
The assault on the Parliament's outer defenses lasted mere minutes. While granted what were, traditionally, insurmountable advantages being on the defensive, and outnumbering the Legionnaires that assaulted them, even the four light-armoured Rooikats didn't last long.
Equipped with the F3LIN suits, the Legionnaires were armed with far heavier weaponry, were better trained, and were heavily armoured against most of Wallace-Johnson's troops lighter caliber weapons. And while the Rooikats were equiped with anti-armour weapons, those weapons were designed to track and target other vehicles, not highly mobile, relatively small targets like power-armoured infantry.
Legionnaires armed with 25mm 'rifles' made short work on the Rooikats. Tungsten steel rounds punched through the lightly armoured vehicles. High explosive shells tore into sandbag positions before the first Legionnaires had even come into the defenders effective range. Legionnaires armed with modified Mk19 automatic grenade launchers rained shrapnel-spewing death among the soldiers loyal to Wallace-Johnson.
Dozens had thrown down their weapons and surrendered before the fighting was complete. At least, the fighting outside the building.
Even indoors, in the brutally close quarters of the inside of a building, the Legionnaires held the advantage. Thermal imagers built into their helmets revealed enemy forces laying in wait. Controlled bursts from .50 caliber machine guns outmatched anything the defenders could accomplish with their AK74s. Most rounds ping'd harmlessly off the F3LIN suits armour, and those few that found a weak point were fouled up by the soft layer armours. Flesh wounds and grazes were the worst the Legionnaires suffered.
Interim-President General Wallace-Johnson watched his world collapsing from the closed-circuit security cameras around the building. His command staff had flipped tables and trained weapons on the large double-doors that warded his chosen command center from the hallway beyond. As thick and heavy as those doors were, they provide little dampener on the sounds of weapons fire and screams in the hallways as Legionnaires drew closer.
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Jacques 'caretakers' took their directive from Wallace-Johnson seriously. Jacques was beaten, the old heavy kevlar armour of his Mk2 FELIN armour was stripped from his chest. Insults and demands and fists were replaced by knives as he refused to break under their less then elegant advances.
When the fighting first started outside, Jacques actually laughed, and offered the two men torturing him to simply surrender peacefully. He had no interest in the rank-and-file men under Wallace-Johnson. They were doing as their General had ordered of them, after all. A poor excuse, but one he was willing to entertain.
The two men had flown into a futile rage, further beating Danjou even as the first crack of gunfire could be heard within the building. Knowing the end was near, one of the two had grabbed a machete, and the other backhanded Jacques before grabbing his right arm and slamming it down against a table.
They screamed at him to order his men to surrender, and Jacques simply shook his head. "Death is nothing, but to live defeated and inglorious is to die daily. Even should I give that order, they would know it came under duress. And held prisoner as I am, that order would hold no weight. Do as you feel you must."
The quote was, of course, of Napolean. A disturbing thought, perhaps, considering the man's ill reputation and Danjou's current objective of taking over a ruined country.
The man holding Danjou down was surprised to find the young Frenchman was not resisting in the slightest, simply allowing his right hand to be held down, ready for the fall of the machete, and he was quickly caught by Jacque's gaze. A slight smile, an awkward thing on bruised and split lips, one eye swollen near shut. But his remaining eye was clear and focused on holding that man's gaze, even as the machete fell, chopping easily through Jacques' bare forearm.
When his Legionnaires reached his room, Jacques still had some fight left in him. The machete wielder was suddenly kneed in the groin, and with his remaining hand he managed one surge of strength, slamming the one whom held him in place against the table, into the pool of blood that still spilled from his bloody stump.
Hidden behind the two men, the Legionnaires couldn't have seen the state Jacques was in immediatly, but once Jared had bound the two guards, Jacques held his stump tightly, struggling to stem the bleeding, and had collapsed heavily onto the floor to lean against the wall. "I have had better days, Legionnaire Vanders. Might I ask why you are out of dress, soldier?"
A tired, awkward grin, as he fought to hold the bleeding in check. He of course was addressing Jared's decision to remove his helmet system.
Equipped with the F3LIN suits, the Legionnaires were armed with far heavier weaponry, were better trained, and were heavily armoured against most of Wallace-Johnson's troops lighter caliber weapons. And while the Rooikats were equiped with anti-armour weapons, those weapons were designed to track and target other vehicles, not highly mobile, relatively small targets like power-armoured infantry.
Legionnaires armed with 25mm 'rifles' made short work on the Rooikats. Tungsten steel rounds punched through the lightly armoured vehicles. High explosive shells tore into sandbag positions before the first Legionnaires had even come into the defenders effective range. Legionnaires armed with modified Mk19 automatic grenade launchers rained shrapnel-spewing death among the soldiers loyal to Wallace-Johnson.
Dozens had thrown down their weapons and surrendered before the fighting was complete. At least, the fighting outside the building.
Even indoors, in the brutally close quarters of the inside of a building, the Legionnaires held the advantage. Thermal imagers built into their helmets revealed enemy forces laying in wait. Controlled bursts from .50 caliber machine guns outmatched anything the defenders could accomplish with their AK74s. Most rounds ping'd harmlessly off the F3LIN suits armour, and those few that found a weak point were fouled up by the soft layer armours. Flesh wounds and grazes were the worst the Legionnaires suffered.
Interim-President General Wallace-Johnson watched his world collapsing from the closed-circuit security cameras around the building. His command staff had flipped tables and trained weapons on the large double-doors that warded his chosen command center from the hallway beyond. As thick and heavy as those doors were, they provide little dampener on the sounds of weapons fire and screams in the hallways as Legionnaires drew closer.
-----
Jacques 'caretakers' took their directive from Wallace-Johnson seriously. Jacques was beaten, the old heavy kevlar armour of his Mk2 FELIN armour was stripped from his chest. Insults and demands and fists were replaced by knives as he refused to break under their less then elegant advances.
When the fighting first started outside, Jacques actually laughed, and offered the two men torturing him to simply surrender peacefully. He had no interest in the rank-and-file men under Wallace-Johnson. They were doing as their General had ordered of them, after all. A poor excuse, but one he was willing to entertain.
The two men had flown into a futile rage, further beating Danjou even as the first crack of gunfire could be heard within the building. Knowing the end was near, one of the two had grabbed a machete, and the other backhanded Jacques before grabbing his right arm and slamming it down against a table.
They screamed at him to order his men to surrender, and Jacques simply shook his head. "Death is nothing, but to live defeated and inglorious is to die daily. Even should I give that order, they would know it came under duress. And held prisoner as I am, that order would hold no weight. Do as you feel you must."
The quote was, of course, of Napolean. A disturbing thought, perhaps, considering the man's ill reputation and Danjou's current objective of taking over a ruined country.
The man holding Danjou down was surprised to find the young Frenchman was not resisting in the slightest, simply allowing his right hand to be held down, ready for the fall of the machete, and he was quickly caught by Jacque's gaze. A slight smile, an awkward thing on bruised and split lips, one eye swollen near shut. But his remaining eye was clear and focused on holding that man's gaze, even as the machete fell, chopping easily through Jacques' bare forearm.
When his Legionnaires reached his room, Jacques still had some fight left in him. The machete wielder was suddenly kneed in the groin, and with his remaining hand he managed one surge of strength, slamming the one whom held him in place against the table, into the pool of blood that still spilled from his bloody stump.
Hidden behind the two men, the Legionnaires couldn't have seen the state Jacques was in immediatly, but once Jared had bound the two guards, Jacques held his stump tightly, struggling to stem the bleeding, and had collapsed heavily onto the floor to lean against the wall. "I have had better days, Legionnaire Vanders. Might I ask why you are out of dress, soldier?"
A tired, awkward grin, as he fought to hold the bleeding in check. He of course was addressing Jared's decision to remove his helmet system.