"Yeah, it was way back when we had our full group, all 12 guys. It was funny, even back then we didn't know how long we had been in here; it seems so long ago now. We had a different commander than the one we do now, a career military man. The rest of us had little or no military experience except for myself, I completed two tours of duty as a sniper back in 'Nam. The rest were either some pumped (mentally, that is) up desk jockeys or involved in medicine or martial arts. Basically, we all had our specialties, whether they be combat, medicine, or hand-to-hand fighting. I think the limitation of the simulator was that it couldn't give you abilities you didn't already have; it just put you as you were into this world where you were what you would be in any other situation or place. At first I didn't understand that, but after it was made clear a lot of other things made sense.
"Anyhow we ended up in here with our weapons, gear, food, and a small link to the 'outside world,' those outside the sim. Remember that room you woke up in? Or, the one Jameson tells me you woke up in? Well that's where everyone came in through, as did all our gear and supplies. For some reason the techs chose that, and we leave a list of things we need there at night. The barracks are locked after the watches switch for the night, and no one comes in or out of the supply room. We wake up in the morning and the computer created whatever we needed overnight. Much more realistic that way, but not so much that we have to wait for something like a supply convoy.
"So after we all were stocked up and psyched for battle, we really didn't know what to expect. At that time we received an assessment of the enemy forces, and found that they were almost identical to ours. They had a specialist that corresponded with the ours in each category. That was the only time we ever were positive about their numbers, and assumed that it was the only time they knew about ours; when Jameson took out that insurgent it brought us a little closer to equal forces. Now we have seven men and they have anywhere from seven to nine. Keeping tally of the number of guys chasing after you isn't as compelling as getting out of the damn place to save your own ass.
"Our first attack was pitiful. We lost several men, but they lost more. We were so disorganized that sticking our noses out would be almost certain death, because no one could cover anyone else. We've learned a lot since then, but it is kind of humbling to look back on those times and think of how close we all came to being annihilated. After working ourselves into the gate area of their base, we were pretty much stonewalled. They were too dug in and protected to be able to be taken out with any degree of efficiency or certainty. It didn't take many to keep us from advancing; only three or four held off our entire attack squad while the rest of them tried to cut us off in the rear. That's when our break came.
"A big tubby fellow with one of the chainguns you see there was trying to sneak behind us. They had to jump off a pretty high ledge to get in a position to fire on any number of us, so understandably it took him a while to be lowered down on a rope ladder and to get to where he could protect himself and get a strategic vantage point at the same time. He finally did. When we heard the thing tooling up we were pretty dumbfounded for a few seconds -- then when the flesh started tearing off people around us, we got to moving. He was to the right side of our rear, so we were not entirely cut off. However we were bunched up behind one small wall which offered the only refuge from the base defenders and this guy that was really letting loose on the ammo.
"I still remember hearing that sound. A click, and then the loudest, climbing scream you ever heard. And that was before the gun actually started firing. When it did...oh shit, it was like lightning striking in your head. It was a grinding, wailing, moaning, crunching, exploding sound that racked your chest and pummeled your bowels. The guy immediately next to me was the first to go. He was a little bit behind me, and I didn't know what was going on until he was thrown against me by the massive force of the lead being tossed at us. I thank God that the thing used shotgun shells instead of bullets; if it hadn't I wouldn't be here. The body shielded me from most of the damage, but it wouldn't last long. It was falling apart like a cheap Lego toy. I was able to scramble around to the other side, and before the base defense could respond, I shot over to the wall I was talking about. I turned around to call my team over, and all of them made it except one. He was the closest to the chaingun-wielding enemy, and had almost made it to safety, when he got tagged on the calf. In the split second that he was exposed at least a dozen rounds were pumped into him and it swept his legs out from under him. Before he hit the ground the end of his ankle was a bloody stump. He toppled over backwards and the pellets ground into his skull. It melted away like hot butter.
"We were in a pickle but it wasn't too hard to get out. The minute the last of us were out of sight the gun tooled down and the guy ducked back behind the crate he had been using as a gunrest. I picked up the rocket launcher from my friend's pulverized body, and let one fly at the crate; but when the dust cleared he was nowhere to be found. It was fairly obvious where he had gone but we still had the base defense to worry about. Just for good measure I launched another missile, then turned to my comrades to see what was to be done.
"All we needed to do was distract the enemy enough to let one guy run out and toss a grenade or two around the corner and jump back. I was chosen for the job, and everyone else set to throwing as much firepower towards the defense as they could, conveniently in the opposite direction I needed to go. I yanked the pins from two grenades, gave the signal, waited for the explosions, and sprinted for the corner. There was a small cubby just around the corner, which afforded me protection both from the base defense and whatever might be around the corner. Without showing anything more than my arm I hurled the presents on a short fuse and waited for the screaming. They went off, and I could've sworn I heard two screams. One quit pretty quick, but by the sound of the other I knew that I might not have gotten him.
"I continued down the short corridor to another corner which shot off to the left. I slid the sling to my rifle off my shoulder, flipped the hinged scope off to the side, and brought up the iron sights. This one would be close range. I peeked around the corner and saw the man who had killed two of our comrades, sitting on his rear end with his right leg outstretched, holding his hand to a patch of blood on the inside of his leg, and putting his weight on his right arm, which was locked. He was facing me. Another body was laying not five feet from him and had a similar gun.
"I squeezed off a shot but I hadn't really aimed. The bullet caught him totally unawares. The hollow-point struck him just above the elbow on the arm that he was leaning on and blew the back half of his upper arm onto the concrete. The bone had vaporized and he immediately fell onto his side. Frantically he tried to scramble around a wide pillar but he was too weak, and his arm was useless. If he took his other hand off his leg, blood shot several feet high out of the severed artery. Even though he had no bone in his right arm, the skin was still attached and the partially detached forearm was only more of an impediment. Immediately I put a bullet into his his ear canal and he dropped like a sack of potatoes, his head slamming down onto the floor with a satisfying, meaty PHWOCK. The mist took several seconds to fall.
"I thought it would be a waste to let those monstrous guns lay for the enemy to reclaim at their leisure, so I hefted one back to the door and gave the signal for "follow me." Surprisingly Ratcliffe immediately came over, and I asked him to grab the other gun. He informed me that their firepower was overwhelming the defense, that they were not even trying to return it, and that they had even managed to pick off one of the less careful defenders in the process. As a result we were free to retreat, and we did so as soon as possible -- but not before Ratcliffe laid some delayed-detonation plastic explosives. Don't know if it ended up getting anyone but I'm sure it made them a little jumpy to hear stuff going off several minutes after we had obviously left.
"We've had many battles since then, but none were so memorable. The security net now uses both of those guns for the sentries. Pretty damned slick, eh?"