Before we ponder, I would like to object to Surlethe getting laid by a hot latina babe while I'm raped and shot in goddamn West Virginia. I CALL SHENANAGINS!
Global Peak (Part 11.0 up 05/29/09).
Moderator: LadyTevar
Well, there's always the chance he'll contract an STD of some sort and die a horrible painful death.MRDOD wrote:Before we ponder, I would like to object to Surlethe getting laid by a hot latina babe while I'm raped and shot in goddamn West Virginia. I CALL SHENANAGINS!
Lusankya: Deal!
Say, do you want it to be a threesome with your wife? Or a foursome with your wife and sister-in-law? I'm up for either.
SCORE. I ain't Durandal yet, but I can feel my ego a-growing. 
Seriously, though, both of the updates were very well-written and touching, each in its own way -- humanity will still exist, even in the face of conflict and hardship. That is something to always bear in mind, because from that realization will stem hope, however bad it gets.
Seriously, though, both of the updates were very well-written and touching, each in its own way -- humanity will still exist, even in the face of conflict and hardship. That is something to always bear in mind, because from that realization will stem hope, however bad it gets.
A Government founded upon justice, and recognizing the equal rights of all men; claiming higher authority for existence, or sanction for its laws, that nature, reason, and the regularly ascertained will of the people; steadily refusing to put its sword and purse in the service of any religious creed or family is a standing offense to most of the Governments of the world, and to some narrow and bigoted people among ourselves.
F. Douglass
-
The Duchess of Zeon
- Gözde
- Posts: 14566
- Joined: 2002-09-18 01:06am
- Location: Exiled in the Pale of Settlement.
It's the word FAG, if you really must know.MRDOD wrote:why you do this to me marina i thought we were friends and not you gangrape me brand my forehead with NO DONGS and have rednecks shoot me?
Seriously, what does my Jewish Star Brand look like? Is it a picture of a Penis with a red circle+slash mark?
The threshold for inclusion in Wikipedia is verifiability, not truth. -- Wikipedia's No Original Research policy page.
In 1966 the Soviets find something on the dark side of the Moon. In 2104 they come back. -- Red Banner / White Star, a nBSG continuation story. Updated to Chapter 4.0 -- 14 January 2013.
In 1966 the Soviets find something on the dark side of the Moon. In 2104 they come back. -- Red Banner / White Star, a nBSG continuation story. Updated to Chapter 4.0 -- 14 January 2013.
I guess I'd like to request an appearance. You know what my name is, and I'm a cog in the Military-Industrial Complex. Up to you to determine if I still am 40 years hence. 
"The rifle itself has no moral stature, since it has no will of its own. Naturally, it may be used by evil men for evil purposes, but there are more good men than evil, and while the latter cannot be persuaded to the path of righteousness by propaganda, they can certainly be corrected by good men with rifles."
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CmdrWilkens
- Emperor's Hand
- Posts: 9093
- Joined: 2002-07-06 01:24am
- Location: Land of the Crabcake
- Contact:
I'd also like to be involved. Since I've got a background in Heavy Equipment plus the whole Marine Corps thing I could be in any of a dozen situations but I rather suspect I'd stay close to home which means Maryland and the Potomac (and therefore the most likely revitalized C&O canal and the old B&O trackage). Whether its guarding Harper's Ferry or just running what is left of the heavy earth moving gear I'd like to play a part if the scene ever shifts to those environs. It could even be none of the above jobs but definately in the Maryland/Virginia border area.
SDNet World Nation: Wilkonia
Armourer of the WARWOLVES
ASVS Vet's Association (Class of 2000)
Former C.S. Strowbridge Gold Ego Award Winner
MEMBER of the Anti-PETA Anti-Facist LEAGUE
ASVS Vet's Association (Class of 2000)
Former C.S. Strowbridge Gold Ego Award Winner
MEMBER of the Anti-PETA Anti-Facist LEAGUE
"I put no stock in religion. By the word religion I have seen the lunacy of fanatics of every denomination be called the will of god. I have seen too much religion in the eyes of too many murderers. Holiness is in right action, and courage on behalf of those who cannot defend themselves, and goodness. "
-Kingdom of Heaven
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Illuminatus Primus
- All Seeing Eye
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- Location: Gainesville, Florida, USA
- Contact:
Reading this makes me wince inwardly and my gut knot up with fear for humanity and our nation. The mark of a good author.The Duchess of Zeon wrote:It's the word FAG, if you really must know.MRDOD wrote:why you do this to me marina i thought we were friends and not you gangrape me brand my forehead with NO DONGS and have rednecks shoot me?
Seriously, what does my Jewish Star Brand look like? Is it a picture of a Penis with a red circle+slash mark?
"You know what the problem with Hollywood is. They make shit. Unbelievable. Unremarkable. Shit." - Gabriel Shear, Swordfish
"This statement, in its utterly clueless hubristic stupidity, cannot be improved upon. I merely quote it in admiration of its perfection." - Garibaldi in reply to an incredibly stupid post.
The Fifth Illuminatus Primus | Warsie | Skeptical Empiricist | Florida Gator | Sustainability Advocate | Libertarian Socialist |
"This statement, in its utterly clueless hubristic stupidity, cannot be improved upon. I merely quote it in admiration of its perfection." - Garibaldi in reply to an incredibly stupid post.
The Fifth Illuminatus Primus | Warsie | Skeptical Empiricist | Florida Gator | Sustainability Advocate | Libertarian Socialist |
-
The Duchess of Zeon
- Gözde
- Posts: 14566
- Joined: 2002-09-18 01:06am
- Location: Exiled in the Pale of Settlement.
October 30th, 2047.
North of Alice Springs,
Northern Territory,
Australia
The radio clicked and buzzed with static and then turned over. "Leather twelve, this is green cheese. Leather twelve, this is green cheese. Come in, over."
"Green cheese, this is leather twelve," Anders Mangum answered, bronzed and wrinkled face gazing out uncertainly through the observation copula as the terrain gently drifted by. "What do you got for us, over?"
The radio crackled, and it was scarcely audible: "Aerial reports of a big group of Abduls up ahead. They may have already reached the tracks. Pull the goods train back? Or what's your rec on it leather twelve? Over."
"Keep 'em close. They're probably from Mahsud Ali's bands and he loves to pluck the easy fruit, green cheese, over."
"Roger that. Well, get your gun crews up. Might be a hot afternoon and all that, out." And that was that.
Anders peered more deeply into the dusty wastes of the parched desert from a position in the armoured train's command car directly ahead of the two massive coal-dust turbine engines. Stretched ahead of him were cars with 155mm howitzers and 105mm howitzers, gun cars filled with troops and anti-personnel metalstorm cannon and regular machine-guns and flamethrowers, the same as behind the engines; beyond them, a few direct-fire mounts for smoothbore anti-tank guns and then the tank cars themselves, two tanks per massive flat fore and aft, so that four old M1A2 Abrams tanks could provide mobile fire support for the armoured train. And trailing it fore and aft, easily driven by the cumulative of some nearly 32,000 horsepower in the two utterly massive engines, were countless repair cars that would only be manned from the armoured dorm cars in the exact centre of the train to repair damage, guarded by tanks and soldiers. Beyond them, countless flat cars loaded with rails and ties and spikes and gravel for use in the repairs, and also to absorb the primitive mines the Abduls tried to plant on the tracks.
And there were two trains like that on the run, directed by central command back in Alice Springs, and sandwiched between them, an awesome goods train that was in all some 7km long, more than 650 cars. It was the weekly Fortress Darwin run which kept the garrison there supplied, maintaining a tenuous hold on the northern coast of Australia. A klick separated the goods train fore and aft from its two armoured guardians, and there were infrequent overflights by recon jets while they crept along at 15kmh.
Anders had been American once, Marines. But the America he knew was good and dead and he didn't give a damn for it; and in Australia, english-speaking men with combat experience were certainly welcome, so he'd gone and now he was the commander of the armoured train Fiddlin' Jenny, fighting through the desert against the hordes of ill-equipped, poor-bastard Indonesians who had come here out of desperation to try and take the south and instead found themselves scarcely holding the northern coast, and usually perishing in the depths of the Australian central wastes.
To combat them, trains like this ran patrols, and the Light Horse units swept the wastes--with horses, but also sometimes with camels--using Aboriginal scouts to lead them and outmanoeuvre the Abduls when they tried to play on their own turf. They were, after all, from a rice-growing culture, not the harsh Arab dune-raiders who might have been comfortable here. And in another hour, maybe two, he'd be killing some more. Or maybe not. The chair jockeys get it wrong half the time.
"Want a cuppa joe, hmm, sir?" One of the train's mess attendants came up, hot black pot in hand. It was already devilishly hot on the train, but, hell, when was the last time you slept, anyway, and so he accepted readily. "What's the food down there?"
"We're runnin' low on rations again, sir. Toast an' vegemite."
"Bloody fuck, but we had better get to Darwin soon." They had fresh fish, at least, especially for soldiers.
"You yanks never did like the stuff, did you? Oh well. At least it's food! And water with it, Sir."
It was pretty informal, but Anders gave him an askance look as his coffee was poured and the attendant accordingly carried onwards. The monitors up here and the direct view in the copula allowed for one man; his command staff was just below, easily accessible by speaking-tube, and presumably had already had their's. There was nothing to do but wait for the prospect of a fight, especially since the prospect of dinner right now sounded worse.
It had been three hours when it happened. The forward monitors caught the slight disturbance in the soil and the warning was immediately sent out: "Mine ahead!!"
"All stop," Anders coolly ordered, and the brakes shuddered, regenerative and dynamic, bringing the train to a halt as rapidly as possible. Not soon enough, though, for the detonation took out the forward equipment car and two of the supply flats, and two more of the equipment cars came to a stop before the train derailed. Anders marked the location and shouted it down the voice-tube: "Position twenty, drop the coupler."
An electro-mechanical device automatically released the coupler there, letting the train reverse if necessary. "Deploy the tanks," he ordered next, and waited.
Out of a dry gully near the tracks a line of men with simple and very primitive rocket launchers fired high, the long arcs bringing the rockets down around and on the train. The armour held, ERA discharging a few times and shuddering running down the cars but nothing more. Anders slammed the viewing slits shut and went for the periscope as the holler went out over the intercom: "Action right!"
The two lead 120mm's swung right and quickly put cannister into the gully, but it provided natural cover and a second salvo of rockets was inevitable in its coming. The noises were immense, even with earplugs, and they would have all be deaf without them, though the hoarse shouts of the men were continuous. The efforts of the 155's to depress to the close range were less than perfect, and they were carefully just out of flamethrower range.
Anders frowned and grunted. They'd have to go after them the old fashioned way... "Full suppressive fire from every gun we've got! Deploy the infantry and bring the tanks around right! We're gonna hit 'em with mortars."
And that was exactly what they did. Some 120mm mortars were set up right-quick by the slouch hatted and khaki'd desert rangers--expensive camoflauge was scarcely issued these days, and khaki was enough here--and they soon started dropping shells on the Abdul's position, while they fitfully replied with rockets and, of course, their ubiqtuitous AK-47s. The firepower advantage was tremendously on the side of the train, and in twenty minutes the fire from the Abdul's position had slacked considerably, just enough... Probably not from casualties but from runnin' out of rockets, doesn't matter though..
"Tank riders!" Anders called for over the radio, and glanced through the tiny viewer of the periscope to see eight men clamber onto the back of each of the four tanks. And then, knowing what to do next, the tank-drivers charged. Firing their guns on the move they flanked the Abduls and started pumping cannister down the gully as the tank riders leapt off. A few rockets at close range were unavailing against the tough old armour, and the cannister traveling down the gully turned it from the ideal position to ambush the train, or try to, into an utter death trap. A couple minutes of that fire and there was scarcely anyone alive, with the tank riders going forward to carefully deal with those who still resisted, actively, or by hiding grenades on their own wounded bodies...
Ten minutes later it was as good as finished, and with it, good news: "We've got six live horses, sir, and eight dead ones--gonna have some steaks tonight, even if a bit tough!"
"Hell yeah, Five Squad," Anders answered, letting his happiness get the better of him. To hell with vegemite. He'd take a grilled horse steak any night, and they had plenty of seasoning salt stored for just such an occasion... Now, after all, nothing went to waste.
Then it was time to get back to business: "Alright, send the second platoon forward to provide cover and get the repair parties out. I want this track clear, the derails on and coupled, and the train moving again before nightfall. The hardest workers will be rewarded with two sides of steak."
"And they'll work like devils for that, sir! Right on it!" Came back the reply, as cheerfully Australian as ever. Back home in the cities of the southwest and southeast their families might be drinking their own reprocessed piss and praying for the completion of another nuke plant, another desalination facility, but they were still alive, and free, and it was the Long-Range Desert Groups that kept them that way, with some help from a few old American mercs whose homeland had torn itself apart in insanity, whereas the old Aussie spirit held true. No, indeed, Anders didn't mind it here at all.
North of Alice Springs,
Northern Territory,
Australia
The radio clicked and buzzed with static and then turned over. "Leather twelve, this is green cheese. Leather twelve, this is green cheese. Come in, over."
"Green cheese, this is leather twelve," Anders Mangum answered, bronzed and wrinkled face gazing out uncertainly through the observation copula as the terrain gently drifted by. "What do you got for us, over?"
The radio crackled, and it was scarcely audible: "Aerial reports of a big group of Abduls up ahead. They may have already reached the tracks. Pull the goods train back? Or what's your rec on it leather twelve? Over."
"Keep 'em close. They're probably from Mahsud Ali's bands and he loves to pluck the easy fruit, green cheese, over."
"Roger that. Well, get your gun crews up. Might be a hot afternoon and all that, out." And that was that.
Anders peered more deeply into the dusty wastes of the parched desert from a position in the armoured train's command car directly ahead of the two massive coal-dust turbine engines. Stretched ahead of him were cars with 155mm howitzers and 105mm howitzers, gun cars filled with troops and anti-personnel metalstorm cannon and regular machine-guns and flamethrowers, the same as behind the engines; beyond them, a few direct-fire mounts for smoothbore anti-tank guns and then the tank cars themselves, two tanks per massive flat fore and aft, so that four old M1A2 Abrams tanks could provide mobile fire support for the armoured train. And trailing it fore and aft, easily driven by the cumulative of some nearly 32,000 horsepower in the two utterly massive engines, were countless repair cars that would only be manned from the armoured dorm cars in the exact centre of the train to repair damage, guarded by tanks and soldiers. Beyond them, countless flat cars loaded with rails and ties and spikes and gravel for use in the repairs, and also to absorb the primitive mines the Abduls tried to plant on the tracks.
And there were two trains like that on the run, directed by central command back in Alice Springs, and sandwiched between them, an awesome goods train that was in all some 7km long, more than 650 cars. It was the weekly Fortress Darwin run which kept the garrison there supplied, maintaining a tenuous hold on the northern coast of Australia. A klick separated the goods train fore and aft from its two armoured guardians, and there were infrequent overflights by recon jets while they crept along at 15kmh.
Anders had been American once, Marines. But the America he knew was good and dead and he didn't give a damn for it; and in Australia, english-speaking men with combat experience were certainly welcome, so he'd gone and now he was the commander of the armoured train Fiddlin' Jenny, fighting through the desert against the hordes of ill-equipped, poor-bastard Indonesians who had come here out of desperation to try and take the south and instead found themselves scarcely holding the northern coast, and usually perishing in the depths of the Australian central wastes.
To combat them, trains like this ran patrols, and the Light Horse units swept the wastes--with horses, but also sometimes with camels--using Aboriginal scouts to lead them and outmanoeuvre the Abduls when they tried to play on their own turf. They were, after all, from a rice-growing culture, not the harsh Arab dune-raiders who might have been comfortable here. And in another hour, maybe two, he'd be killing some more. Or maybe not. The chair jockeys get it wrong half the time.
"Want a cuppa joe, hmm, sir?" One of the train's mess attendants came up, hot black pot in hand. It was already devilishly hot on the train, but, hell, when was the last time you slept, anyway, and so he accepted readily. "What's the food down there?"
"We're runnin' low on rations again, sir. Toast an' vegemite."
"Bloody fuck, but we had better get to Darwin soon." They had fresh fish, at least, especially for soldiers.
"You yanks never did like the stuff, did you? Oh well. At least it's food! And water with it, Sir."
It was pretty informal, but Anders gave him an askance look as his coffee was poured and the attendant accordingly carried onwards. The monitors up here and the direct view in the copula allowed for one man; his command staff was just below, easily accessible by speaking-tube, and presumably had already had their's. There was nothing to do but wait for the prospect of a fight, especially since the prospect of dinner right now sounded worse.
It had been three hours when it happened. The forward monitors caught the slight disturbance in the soil and the warning was immediately sent out: "Mine ahead!!"
"All stop," Anders coolly ordered, and the brakes shuddered, regenerative and dynamic, bringing the train to a halt as rapidly as possible. Not soon enough, though, for the detonation took out the forward equipment car and two of the supply flats, and two more of the equipment cars came to a stop before the train derailed. Anders marked the location and shouted it down the voice-tube: "Position twenty, drop the coupler."
An electro-mechanical device automatically released the coupler there, letting the train reverse if necessary. "Deploy the tanks," he ordered next, and waited.
Out of a dry gully near the tracks a line of men with simple and very primitive rocket launchers fired high, the long arcs bringing the rockets down around and on the train. The armour held, ERA discharging a few times and shuddering running down the cars but nothing more. Anders slammed the viewing slits shut and went for the periscope as the holler went out over the intercom: "Action right!"
The two lead 120mm's swung right and quickly put cannister into the gully, but it provided natural cover and a second salvo of rockets was inevitable in its coming. The noises were immense, even with earplugs, and they would have all be deaf without them, though the hoarse shouts of the men were continuous. The efforts of the 155's to depress to the close range were less than perfect, and they were carefully just out of flamethrower range.
Anders frowned and grunted. They'd have to go after them the old fashioned way... "Full suppressive fire from every gun we've got! Deploy the infantry and bring the tanks around right! We're gonna hit 'em with mortars."
And that was exactly what they did. Some 120mm mortars were set up right-quick by the slouch hatted and khaki'd desert rangers--expensive camoflauge was scarcely issued these days, and khaki was enough here--and they soon started dropping shells on the Abdul's position, while they fitfully replied with rockets and, of course, their ubiqtuitous AK-47s. The firepower advantage was tremendously on the side of the train, and in twenty minutes the fire from the Abdul's position had slacked considerably, just enough... Probably not from casualties but from runnin' out of rockets, doesn't matter though..
"Tank riders!" Anders called for over the radio, and glanced through the tiny viewer of the periscope to see eight men clamber onto the back of each of the four tanks. And then, knowing what to do next, the tank-drivers charged. Firing their guns on the move they flanked the Abduls and started pumping cannister down the gully as the tank riders leapt off. A few rockets at close range were unavailing against the tough old armour, and the cannister traveling down the gully turned it from the ideal position to ambush the train, or try to, into an utter death trap. A couple minutes of that fire and there was scarcely anyone alive, with the tank riders going forward to carefully deal with those who still resisted, actively, or by hiding grenades on their own wounded bodies...
Ten minutes later it was as good as finished, and with it, good news: "We've got six live horses, sir, and eight dead ones--gonna have some steaks tonight, even if a bit tough!"
"Hell yeah, Five Squad," Anders answered, letting his happiness get the better of him. To hell with vegemite. He'd take a grilled horse steak any night, and they had plenty of seasoning salt stored for just such an occasion... Now, after all, nothing went to waste.
Then it was time to get back to business: "Alright, send the second platoon forward to provide cover and get the repair parties out. I want this track clear, the derails on and coupled, and the train moving again before nightfall. The hardest workers will be rewarded with two sides of steak."
"And they'll work like devils for that, sir! Right on it!" Came back the reply, as cheerfully Australian as ever. Back home in the cities of the southwest and southeast their families might be drinking their own reprocessed piss and praying for the completion of another nuke plant, another desalination facility, but they were still alive, and free, and it was the Long-Range Desert Groups that kept them that way, with some help from a few old American mercs whose homeland had torn itself apart in insanity, whereas the old Aussie spirit held true. No, indeed, Anders didn't mind it here at all.
The threshold for inclusion in Wikipedia is verifiability, not truth. -- Wikipedia's No Original Research policy page.
In 1966 the Soviets find something on the dark side of the Moon. In 2104 they come back. -- Red Banner / White Star, a nBSG continuation story. Updated to Chapter 4.0 -- 14 January 2013.
In 1966 the Soviets find something on the dark side of the Moon. In 2104 they come back. -- Red Banner / White Star, a nBSG continuation story. Updated to Chapter 4.0 -- 14 January 2013.
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Ford Prefect
- Emperor's Hand
- Posts: 8254
- Joined: 2005-05-16 04:08am
- Location: The real number domain
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The Duchess of Zeon
- Gözde
- Posts: 14566
- Joined: 2002-09-18 01:06am
- Location: Exiled in the Pale of Settlement.
Ford Prefect wrote:Green cheese is one hell of a callsign.
And armoured battle train! I never expected something quite as awesome as that.
You'll feature soon enough in another Australia short, I promise. This, at least, is a hint of how things are.
And "Green Cheese" was the actual designation of a British weapon programme in the late 1940s.
The threshold for inclusion in Wikipedia is verifiability, not truth. -- Wikipedia's No Original Research policy page.
In 1966 the Soviets find something on the dark side of the Moon. In 2104 they come back. -- Red Banner / White Star, a nBSG continuation story. Updated to Chapter 4.0 -- 14 January 2013.
In 1966 the Soviets find something on the dark side of the Moon. In 2104 they come back. -- Red Banner / White Star, a nBSG continuation story. Updated to Chapter 4.0 -- 14 January 2013.
-
Ford Prefect
- Emperor's Hand
- Posts: 8254
- Joined: 2005-05-16 04:08am
- Location: The real number domain
Hooray!The Duchess of Zeon wrote:You'll feature soon enough in another Australia short, I promise. This, at least, is a hint of how things are.
And I thought military acronyms were whacky.And "Green Cheese" was the actual designation of a British weapon programme in the late 1940s.
What is Project Zohar?
Here's to a certain mostly harmless nutcase.
Here's to a certain mostly harmless nutcase.
I'm just amused that Nit and I are grandparents. Amusingly enough, one of my nephews is named Alex.MRDOD wrote:Ooh, another good update. Moar please!
Before we ponder, I would like to object to Surlethe getting laid by a hot latina babe while I'm raped and shot in goddamn West Virginia. I CALL SHENANAGINS!
Me: Nope, that's why I have you around to tell me.
Nitram: You -are- beautiful. Anyone tries to tell you otherwise kill them.
"A life is like a garden. Perfect moments can be had, but not preserved, except in memory. LLAP" -- Leonard Nimoy, last Tweet
Hey, I'm probably paying that big scary black man in sex for chicken soup. Consider yourself lucky!MRDOD wrote:Ooh, another good update. Moar please!
Before we ponder, I would like to object to Surlethe getting laid by a hot latina babe while I'm raped and shot in goddamn West Virginia. I CALL SHENANAGINS!
Anyway, I'd like to know just how widescale the wars are and see what's happened to Detroit and New Orleans, but that's just me.
EBC|Fucking Metal|Artist|Androgynous Sexfiend|Gozer Kvltist|
Listen to my music! http://www.soundclick.com/nihilanth
"America is, now, the most powerful and economically prosperous nation in the country." - Master of Ossus
Listen to my music! http://www.soundclick.com/nihilanth
"America is, now, the most powerful and economically prosperous nation in the country." - Master of Ossus
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Redleader34
- Jedi Knight
- Posts: 998
- Joined: 2005-10-03 03:30pm
- Location: Flowing through the Animated Ether, finding unsusual creations
- Contact:
Grilled Horses, Battle Trains, Americans in Austriala battling Raiders like mad max... Duchess, I may have to negotiate with you for the rights to turn this into a series of short (possibly animated?) films. This is epic.
Dan's Art
Bounty on SDN's most annoying
"A spambot, a spambot who can't spell, a spambot who can't spell or spam properly and a spambot with tenure. Tough"choice."
Bounty on SDN's most annoying
"A spambot, a spambot who can't spell, a spambot who can't spell or spam properly and a spambot with tenure. Tough"choice."
Excellent update, though I have one, uh, major plothole.
M1A2s run on gas turbines, which:
A) Guzzle gas. Post PO it probably hurts, and
B) Spew gasses hot enough to peel paint from hard surfaces. You really don't want to be sitting behind the turret of a running M1A2.
I have a theory that either you just missed that, or that those M1A2s have been refitted with old fashioned diesel engines
M1A2s run on gas turbines, which:
A) Guzzle gas. Post PO it probably hurts, and
B) Spew gasses hot enough to peel paint from hard surfaces. You really don't want to be sitting behind the turret of a running M1A2.
I have a theory that either you just missed that, or that those M1A2s have been refitted with old fashioned diesel engines
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Mr. Coffee
- is an asshole.
- Posts: 3258
- Joined: 2005-02-26 07:45am
- Location: And banging your mom is half the battle... G.I. Joe!
I wouldn't mind being a bit character in your tale. Last name "Coffee" first name whatever you feel like.
Scary damned world you've made, Duchess. Damned scary...
Scary damned world you've made, Duchess. Damned scary...
I never would have thought I would wholeheartedly agree with Coffee... - fgalkin x2
Honestly, this board is so fucking stupid at times. - Thanas
GALE ForceCarwash: Oh, I'll wax that shit, bitch...
She's mentioned converting them to coal slurry engines beforePeZook wrote:Excellent update, though I have one, uh, major plothole.
M1A2s run on gas turbines, which:
A) Guzzle gas. Post PO it probably hurts, and
B) Spew gasses hot enough to peel paint from hard surfaces. You really don't want to be sitting behind the turret of a running M1A2.
I have a theory that either you just missed that, or that those M1A2s have been refitted with old fashioned diesel engines
"The rifle itself has no moral stature, since it has no will of its own. Naturally, it may be used by evil men for evil purposes, but there are more good men than evil, and while the latter cannot be persuaded to the path of righteousness by propaganda, they can certainly be corrected by good men with rifles."
-
The Duchess of Zeon
- Gözde
- Posts: 14566
- Joined: 2002-09-18 01:06am
- Location: Exiled in the Pale of Settlement.
They've probably be refitted, aye.PeZook wrote:Excellent update, though I have one, uh, major plothole.
M1A2s run on gas turbines, which:
A) Guzzle gas. Post PO it probably hurts, and
B) Spew gasses hot enough to peel paint from hard surfaces. You really don't want to be sitting behind the turret of a running M1A2.
I have a theory that either you just missed that, or that those M1A2s have been refitted with old fashioned diesel engines :)
The threshold for inclusion in Wikipedia is verifiability, not truth. -- Wikipedia's No Original Research policy page.
In 1966 the Soviets find something on the dark side of the Moon. In 2104 they come back. -- Red Banner / White Star, a nBSG continuation story. Updated to Chapter 4.0 -- 14 January 2013.
In 1966 the Soviets find something on the dark side of the Moon. In 2104 they come back. -- Red Banner / White Star, a nBSG continuation story. Updated to Chapter 4.0 -- 14 January 2013.
-
Sea Skimmer
- Yankee Capitalist Air Pirate
- Posts: 37390
- Joined: 2002-07-03 11:49pm
- Location: Passchendaele City, HAB
Crazy inept Australian, they should have had some kind of armored trolley, as the Germans introduced in WW2 to replace normal armored trains, out in front to look for mines. And why not just resupply Darwin by sea? The railroad to the place isn't very old as it is.
As for the M1s, by 2047 an M1 tank would have needed a completely new engine vs. what it had in 2007 at least twice over.
The fuel consumption issues are kind of overrated though, most of the M1 tanks now in service have either an external APU or a new very high capacity battery pack (the under armor APU wasn’t funded) to save idling time. When the tank is actually moving the gas turbine is in fact more efficient then a diesel too, and they have even better multi fuel capability. No doubt when the tanks are on the train, they have some kind of external power hookup so they don’t even need to use an APU.
All that said, a diesel engine is likely because they’d be easier to produce and keep running then turbines in the long term. Probably the tanks have a lower power commercial engine of some kind, with a lowered final drive. For purely infantry support roles it won’t matter if they can’t get past 25mph anymore.
Anyway, good stuff, keep it coming. I’m personally preparing my own ‘peak oil story’ which I suspect will provide a hilarious contrast to what ‘peak oil’ means in this work.
As for the M1s, by 2047 an M1 tank would have needed a completely new engine vs. what it had in 2007 at least twice over.
The fuel consumption issues are kind of overrated though, most of the M1 tanks now in service have either an external APU or a new very high capacity battery pack (the under armor APU wasn’t funded) to save idling time. When the tank is actually moving the gas turbine is in fact more efficient then a diesel too, and they have even better multi fuel capability. No doubt when the tanks are on the train, they have some kind of external power hookup so they don’t even need to use an APU.
All that said, a diesel engine is likely because they’d be easier to produce and keep running then turbines in the long term. Probably the tanks have a lower power commercial engine of some kind, with a lowered final drive. For purely infantry support roles it won’t matter if they can’t get past 25mph anymore.
Anyway, good stuff, keep it coming. I’m personally preparing my own ‘peak oil story’ which I suspect will provide a hilarious contrast to what ‘peak oil’ means in this work.
"This cult of special forces is as sensible as to form a Royal Corps of Tree Climbers and say that no soldier who does not wear its green hat with a bunch of oak leaves stuck in it should be expected to climb a tree"
— Field Marshal William Slim 1956
— Field Marshal William Slim 1956
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Spice Runner
- Jedi Knight
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CmdrWilkens
- Emperor's Hand
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Quick note on this the M1A2 may indeed run on a turbine engine but it is NOT gasoline. It runs on the same JP-8 which the rest of the US forces use in their ground (and most air) vehicles. Its a diesel derivative with quite a few more additives for stability and better burn characteristics but plain ol' diesel would run just fine through the Abrams though the fuel filters would clog a LOT more frequently if you were putting standard #2 in there.PeZook wrote:Excellent update, though I have one, uh, major plothole.
M1A2s run on gas turbines, which:
A) Guzzle gas. Post PO it probably hurts, and
B) Spew gasses hot enough to peel paint from hard surfaces. You really don't want to be sitting behind the turret of a running M1A2.
I have a theory that either you just missed that, or that those M1A2s have been refitted with old fashioned diesel engines
SDNet World Nation: Wilkonia
Armourer of the WARWOLVES
ASVS Vet's Association (Class of 2000)
Former C.S. Strowbridge Gold Ego Award Winner
MEMBER of the Anti-PETA Anti-Facist LEAGUE
ASVS Vet's Association (Class of 2000)
Former C.S. Strowbridge Gold Ego Award Winner
MEMBER of the Anti-PETA Anti-Facist LEAGUE
"I put no stock in religion. By the word religion I have seen the lunacy of fanatics of every denomination be called the will of god. I have seen too much religion in the eyes of too many murderers. Holiness is in right action, and courage on behalf of those who cannot defend themselves, and goodness. "
-Kingdom of Heaven
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Ford Prefect
- Emperor's Hand
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The problem here is that if you're in a location where the conditions can kill your enemies, they sure as hell can kill you too if things go bad. As the Bush Tucker Man*, and a zillion years of Aboriginal society before that, showed us, it is most certainly possible to survive in the bush, so long as you're careful.Illuminatus Primus wrote:I think its great. I liked the non-American perspective for once. I imagine there's heavy problems with shipping due to much worse SE Asian piracy. Better to take your chances in the Outback where the conditions do a lot of the killing for you.
*If you've never seen this, I'd actually recommend it. The BSM himself was remarkably badass.
What is Project Zohar?
Here's to a certain mostly harmless nutcase.
Here's to a certain mostly harmless nutcase.
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Chris OFarrell
- Durandal's Bitch
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Just a point. I'm surprised at the armored trains being used to resupply the North Coast, I would have thought it more logical to use ships for that. From the upper ends of the North Eastern coast perhaps, use trains to ship freight North then just ship it down and across. Easier then fighting up and down tracks in the middle of Australia.
Now if you want a reason to have trains moving along the middle of Australia, I'd have them shipping and protecting shipments of the massive Uranium deposits all over the place, protecting the miners who dig it up and process it it.
Hell you might also want them protecting the coal mines for that matter as well. Australian Coal and Uranium is probably going to be a bit valuable at this point.
And I'm frankly surprised the Indonesians haven't starved to death already. Its not like North and North Western Australia is exactly a food producing area.
Now if you want a reason to have trains moving along the middle of Australia, I'd have them shipping and protecting shipments of the massive Uranium deposits all over the place, protecting the miners who dig it up and process it it.
Hell you might also want them protecting the coal mines for that matter as well. Australian Coal and Uranium is probably going to be a bit valuable at this point.
And I'm frankly surprised the Indonesians haven't starved to death already. Its not like North and North Western Australia is exactly a food producing area.
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Ghost Rider
- Spirit of Vengeance
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You want to scream about something other then the story, do it here.
Next batch I'll just start deleting.
Next batch I'll just start deleting.
MM /CF/WG/BOTM/JL/Original Warsie/ACPATHNTDWATGODW FOREVER!!
Sometimes we can choose the path we follow. Sometimes our choices are made for us. And sometimes we have no choice at all
Saying and doing are chocolate and concrete
Sometimes we can choose the path we follow. Sometimes our choices are made for us. And sometimes we have no choice at all
Saying and doing are chocolate and concrete
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Raptor 597
- Sith Devotee
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Its true Sea Skimmer that we have a whole extra set of batteries in our newer models of the Abrams. However, some of the tanks have trouble for whatever reason with keeping a charge as long as they are supposed to. All the batteries are changed at every tank services which happens at least once in a six month period. And the engine pack will probably have to be replaced more than twice in the forty year period if we're using M1A2 SEPS; it would be better to downgrade the tanks to M1A1s. I say this because the computers in M1A2s have caused all sorts of trouble with the tank, and the tank would have an overall greater self life if converted to M1A1.Sea Skimmer wrote:Crazy inept Australian, they should have had some kind of armored trolley, as the Germans introduced in WW2 to replace normal armored trains, out in front to look for mines. And why not just resupply Darwin by sea? The railroad to the place isn't very old as it is.
As for the M1s, by 2047 an M1 tank would have needed a completely new engine vs. what it had in 2007 at least twice over.
The fuel consumption issues are kind of overrated though, most of the M1 tanks now in service have either an external APU or a new very high capacity battery pack (the under armor APU wasn’t funded) to save idling time. When the tank is actually moving the gas turbine is in fact more efficient then a diesel too, and they have even better multi fuel capability. No doubt when the tanks are on the train, they have some kind of external power hookup so they don’t even need to use an APU.
All that said, a diesel engine is likely because they’d be easier to produce and keep running then turbines in the long term. Probably the tanks have a lower power commercial engine of some kind, with a lowered final drive. For purely infantry support roles it won’t matter if they can’t get past 25mph anymore.
Anyway, good stuff, keep it coming. I’m personally preparing my own ‘peak oil story’ which I suspect will provide a hilarious contrast to what ‘peak oil’ means in this work.
Edit: Also, Duchess I'd like to be in the story and hopefully still in U.S. Army uniform. If I'm still in I would have went green to gold as I'm planning and hopefully I'd have a few stars. You might as well go with my real name, Dustin Judice, though everyone calls my Judas Escariot or just Judas in the Army, its a mispronunciation of my surname.
Formerly the artist known as Captain Lennox
"To myself I am only a child playing on the beach, while vast oceans of truth lie undiscovered before me." - Sir Isaac Newton
"To myself I am only a child playing on the beach, while vast oceans of truth lie undiscovered before me." - Sir Isaac Newton