Hey all, it's been a while since I've been to this site...and yeah, I know I barely posted anything, college got in the way of that heheheh. Anyways, I've been working on a little project of mine for a while now, originally going to be a background story for a character of mine I made on the Vast Empire forums that would have been a influenced by group activity. As time went on and due to lack of participation from other members, I realized that when trying to create some history to certain groups that there was a lot of potential to be in its own universe so to speak. So after some revisions and re-working of certain content, I bring to you the the first part of Vallock. As a side note...I accept any help and suggestions and will try to implement the better ones in to the story if possible
Prologue
Sub-Sector: Crux
System: Entebbe
Planet – Amerish
Sometime in the future
"Aly! Alyonesh'ka! My child, how've you been?"
"I'm fine dad, nearly finished with getting dinner ready."
"I see….a shame a certain young lad couldn't join us eh?"
Geez dad, we're not dating or anything. Chuckling to herself, Alyona Holo Werner playfully gave her father a slap to his back before she continued to cut some vegetables up. Despite her family's claim of what her relationship was with that particular Endasimarian boy, she didn't think that she was that close to him. Although it was true that she had met the lad during their college years, the redheaded girl had a rather casual relationship and considered each other to be rather close friends, not lovers as most people thought they were.
Of course, if John did ask me out, that would be a different story all together. She thought, humming a soft tune to herself as she placed the freshly cut veggies into a pan. Turning the stove top on to a medium-high heat, all the better to stir-fry in, the twenty three year old Fenrisian wolf never noticed when her thoughts went from the delicious meal ahead, to her own little fantasy world. Her little daydream however was abruptly interrupted however; as she could soon hear her mother's hushed tones coming from just the hallway. Curious, Alyona's ears pricked upwards in interest, as she quietly wondered what exactly her parents were talking about. Her attempts to listen into their conversation were quickly cut short however, as fate had different plans for her.
"Alyona? Where exactly did your friend say he was stationed at?"
"Some place called Vallock, why?"
"You uhm….might want to see this."
---
"Turn it off, just please; turn it off."
Click
This can't be happening. This just can't be happening. She thought, horrified to what she just saw on the television. Cupping her hands to her mouth, the now distraught girl was at a complete loss for words; as if some kind of sick joke was being played on her by the universe. Why just a few days ago, when she last talked to him, John had told her everything was fine and things were going rather smoothly. However what she witnessed was nothing, nothing like her friend had described. Just hearing the fear in his voice as he passed the cameraman was…..was…. Oh Goddesses, please let him come home safely.
Fall of Vallock
Moderator: LadyTevar
Re: Fall of Vallock
Sub-Sector: Crux
System: Aurelia
Planet – Strangereal
Population: 20 billion citizens, plus wild-life and local fauna
Decription: A verdant and temperate world, Strangereal is a key planet in the Crux Sub-Sector with several unique deposits of strategic resources. With over 60 percent of its surface covered in water, most of these deposits have been spread out over four of the five continents on the planet. As such, tactical and strategic defense systems, ranging from Orbital Defense Stonehenge Array’s and Excalibur Area Denial System to the more defense oriented Megalith and Avalon Planetery Shields, have been placed on the continents of Anea, Usea, Banhaus, Zion, and recently Antarctica. Due to a high degree of overlap from several of the defense systems and a self sufficient economy in place, the planet can hold out against any belligerent forces for years, if not decades.
In the last 150 years, the capitol city of Strangereal, Vallock, has become a major trade beacon, bringing economical and military alliances from the major powers of several sectors into its vibrant urban areas. Once home to the Galactic Republic’s ambassador to the Kasrkin Federation, Vallock now serves as a staging ground for joint operations between the Kasrkin Home Guard, Galactic Republic, and several other militaries in the galaxy. However, due to recent events and from increased organized crime, a call for aid in stabilizing the planet as it comes to grips with th-
Description interrupted; data corrupted
---
“Are we there yet?”
“No.”
“How ‘bout now?”
“No…”
“…What about now?”
“You’re doing this on purpose. Aren’t you?”
“Yep.”
First Lieutenant Nero of the 412th Endasimarian Shock Division, junior field officer within the Kasrkin Home Guard, could hardly believe such childish banter was going on in her platoon. Currently patrolling the area known as the Whiskey Corridor, just days after the complete annihilation of a political entity known as The United Citizens Federation, she couldn’t really blame them for acting in such a way. Hell, sometimes she got into the act as well; what with having the crewmembers of the Fastback APC quadroon under her command call her mom along with the rest of her boys. Nothing like patrol duty in the desert huh? At least we got those Cougars and Vanguards with us from Radec’s forces. God I love those things. She thought, idly looking at the backbone of the Kasrkin Home Guard Mechanized Forces. Opening a hatch connecting the turret to the main body of the APC, she began to look in the back compartment of the Fastback, suppressing a smile as she found the specialist that she was searching for.
“Specialist Kilroy?”
“Yes mom?”
“Are we at there yet?”
---
“Jeez mom, do you have to join in too?”
Spc. John ‘Kilroy’ Varl chuckled as he unashamedly began to fake a temper tantrum. Despite the fact that he was the third oldest in his squad, John still loved to play around when it came to the el-tee. It helped that he met the young blonde haired, blue eyed lady when she was freshly minted as a butter-bars and had formed a solid relation with the officer throughout the years. I sure hope we can finish up with this mission though and get back to Home as quick as possible, I heard that Nero’s up for captaincy after this. He thought, idly aware that what The Lord Castellan’s Own, was currently doing was not a standard operation. It was his firm belief, as well as several others within the brigade, that it was their duty as Endasimarians and as the gods of mechanized warfare, to be out on the battlefield raising hell wherever they went and not babysitting a planet due to some local infection curbing the populace. Sighing, he shook his head and turned inwards to the rest of the squad, removing any idle thoughts with a simple question.
“So, who’s up for a game of euchre?”
System: Aurelia
Planet – Strangereal
Population: 20 billion citizens, plus wild-life and local fauna
Decription: A verdant and temperate world, Strangereal is a key planet in the Crux Sub-Sector with several unique deposits of strategic resources. With over 60 percent of its surface covered in water, most of these deposits have been spread out over four of the five continents on the planet. As such, tactical and strategic defense systems, ranging from Orbital Defense Stonehenge Array’s and Excalibur Area Denial System to the more defense oriented Megalith and Avalon Planetery Shields, have been placed on the continents of Anea, Usea, Banhaus, Zion, and recently Antarctica. Due to a high degree of overlap from several of the defense systems and a self sufficient economy in place, the planet can hold out against any belligerent forces for years, if not decades.
In the last 150 years, the capitol city of Strangereal, Vallock, has become a major trade beacon, bringing economical and military alliances from the major powers of several sectors into its vibrant urban areas. Once home to the Galactic Republic’s ambassador to the Kasrkin Federation, Vallock now serves as a staging ground for joint operations between the Kasrkin Home Guard, Galactic Republic, and several other militaries in the galaxy. However, due to recent events and from increased organized crime, a call for aid in stabilizing the planet as it comes to grips with th-
Description interrupted; data corrupted
---
“Are we there yet?”
“No.”
“How ‘bout now?”
“No…”
“…What about now?”
“You’re doing this on purpose. Aren’t you?”
“Yep.”
First Lieutenant Nero of the 412th Endasimarian Shock Division, junior field officer within the Kasrkin Home Guard, could hardly believe such childish banter was going on in her platoon. Currently patrolling the area known as the Whiskey Corridor, just days after the complete annihilation of a political entity known as The United Citizens Federation, she couldn’t really blame them for acting in such a way. Hell, sometimes she got into the act as well; what with having the crewmembers of the Fastback APC quadroon under her command call her mom along with the rest of her boys. Nothing like patrol duty in the desert huh? At least we got those Cougars and Vanguards with us from Radec’s forces. God I love those things. She thought, idly looking at the backbone of the Kasrkin Home Guard Mechanized Forces. Opening a hatch connecting the turret to the main body of the APC, she began to look in the back compartment of the Fastback, suppressing a smile as she found the specialist that she was searching for.
“Specialist Kilroy?”
“Yes mom?”
“Are we at there yet?”
---
“Jeez mom, do you have to join in too?”
Spc. John ‘Kilroy’ Varl chuckled as he unashamedly began to fake a temper tantrum. Despite the fact that he was the third oldest in his squad, John still loved to play around when it came to the el-tee. It helped that he met the young blonde haired, blue eyed lady when she was freshly minted as a butter-bars and had formed a solid relation with the officer throughout the years. I sure hope we can finish up with this mission though and get back to Home as quick as possible, I heard that Nero’s up for captaincy after this. He thought, idly aware that what The Lord Castellan’s Own, was currently doing was not a standard operation. It was his firm belief, as well as several others within the brigade, that it was their duty as Endasimarians and as the gods of mechanized warfare, to be out on the battlefield raising hell wherever they went and not babysitting a planet due to some local infection curbing the populace. Sighing, he shook his head and turned inwards to the rest of the squad, removing any idle thoughts with a simple question.
“So, who’s up for a game of euchre?”
Re: Fall of Vallock
Relief Campaign 14101: Blackwatch
Status of Operation: Nominal
Day: 5
Spaceport Merlin, a vital component to Strangereal’s trade prowess for the past 300 years, was now the central hub to the planetary relief force that had recently entered the system. Ideally situated on a plateau overlooking the capitol city of Vallock itself, it held the perfect position in terms of strategic value being one of the few sites that was outside the range of a local Excalibur system. Capable of holding hundreds of various civilian space craft over a 10 kilometer area, the current traffic ranged from the lowly yet humble ORCA/Galaxy drop ships to awe inspiring and powerful Legios-class destroyer and Anima-class battleship.
Due to the highly defensible nature of the architecture and the vast amount of resources provided that would normally go towards maintaining countless pleasure or commercial flight schedules, Merlin had become the headquarters and main staging area for the 18th Amerian Army group known as Invictus. Within the walls of the main terminal were some of the most experienced and harden officers that the sector had to offer. Under the flag of common defense and aid, most if not all of these men belonged to an alliance of several significant political organizations otherwise known as the Strategic Integrated Coalition of Sub-sectors (S.I.C.O.S.) or more commonly called Psychos for short. Currently, members of the Kasrkin Home Guard and Galactic Republic, the two strongest if not influential to the alliance, were in the process of finalizing the details of Campaign 14101; a procedure that had taken the last few days to complete.
---
Why the hell does the bathroom smell like bacon? More importantly, why the feth is that Flob staring at my stuff? Major General Gerard ‘Kingmaster’ Bergen of the 412th Endasimarian Shock Division thought as he relieved himself in one of Merlin’s several public restrooms. Standing at just over six feet tall and still physically fit despite nearly reaching the age of 50, the good general found it rather odd that the small furry creature was looking rather intently at him. The experience was something he would prefer to not let continue all things considered.
“What do you want fuzzball?”
“Paano ninyo makakuha ng iyo kaya malaki?”
“My what now?”
“Ang iyong prut salad.Ito ay kaya malaki.”
“Ahhh. Welp, it helps that I’m a bit bigger than you and have served quite a bit. So you could say it comes with the territory.”
“Ganoon pala”
I bet you do ya little bastard. Bergen thought, idly wondering just how far the two had gotten past the radar. After finishing up the awkward scenario that occurred in the restroom, he decided that it would be best to head to the war room where the final briefing was about to take place. Briskly walking down the hallway, the Endasimarian met one of his GRUN counterparts, a Caerulean general that went by the name of Riddhe. Seeing the man’s face sent shivers down his spine, something that often occurred when something very bad was going to happen.
“Bergen.”
“Riddhe, whatever did I do to get stuck with you again?”
“Lose at poker…But enough pleasantries, Overlord is waiting for us and we mustn’t keep the old wolf waiting.”
---
Ivan Eisenhorn, General of the 18th Army Group Invictus, was not the sort of person to cross paths with. Known by both friend and foe alike as a father to his men, he was also one of the most ruthless commanders when it came to war and was fully capable of ensuring that nothing remained of his enemy. Such was the folly of the United Citizens Federation whose leader he personally killed to conclude Operation: Hell’s Wrath; a military campaign of total annihilation done by the Amerian Armored Fists and its closest allies after UCF had murdered both ambassadorial parties that the Federation sent on live holo-feeds. With his Fenrisian heritage, it was quite common to mistake him for a dire wolf; an appearance that even in his old age was not that hard to maintain.
“All corps and divisional commanders are present and accounted for sir. They await for your orders.”
“Thank you captain, you may leave now.”
Turning inwards a motley crew of senior officers, Ivan began the final pre-campaign briefing in earnest. With the wave of his hand, a map of Vallock expanded into a holographic view, completely broken down into colored zones so that the status of the city could be seen clearly by all. Currently over 50% of the total number was colored green, indicating that the zones were clear of any infections or unrest, with another 40% in yellow to show that they were under quarantine and martial law. The last 10% were the red zones, areas devoid of law as they were completely overrun by the virus. Only a privy few knew that the reason they were kept under control was due to the relentless and somewhat unethical methods used by some of the more unconventional forces under Eisenhorn’s command.
“I’ll spare you all the semantics since by now you should know why we are here. Currently the main objective of all S.I.C.O.S forces is to aid the local populace and not scare them into submission. As such, the Jennen Air Corps alongside the Belkan Air Forces will continue to provide support to local relief efforts while the Phantine and Reppies carry on with ensuring that the No-Fly-Zone’s are secured; that includes their role in combat operations as well. Ground operations are to be carried out in the green zones by GRUN Stormtroopers and ISAF Mobile Infantry, KHG Elysian Drop Troopers and AREF Vanu Light Calvary in the yellow, and finally KHG Amerian Armored Fists with the Imperials patrolling and if necessary salting areas within the red zones. Cooperation is vital here ladies and gentlemen; everything that happens inside and around your AO’s will affect how this campaign goes so there will be no fucking around. General Bergen, General Riddhe?”
“Yes sir?” The two subordinate generals said simultaneously.
“We have unconfirmed reports that Kaen’s faithful servants are operating in the city itself. I want the Endasimarian 412th to commence raids on suspected hideouts across the city with the Republic 252nd on reserve. Get Colonels Radec and Vinnermen to choose some of their boys for HAZOPS in conjunction with GRUN Stalker and Kasrkin Ghost teams. Is that understood? Good, dismissed and get to it.”
Status of Operation: Nominal
Day: 5
Spaceport Merlin, a vital component to Strangereal’s trade prowess for the past 300 years, was now the central hub to the planetary relief force that had recently entered the system. Ideally situated on a plateau overlooking the capitol city of Vallock itself, it held the perfect position in terms of strategic value being one of the few sites that was outside the range of a local Excalibur system. Capable of holding hundreds of various civilian space craft over a 10 kilometer area, the current traffic ranged from the lowly yet humble ORCA/Galaxy drop ships to awe inspiring and powerful Legios-class destroyer and Anima-class battleship.
Due to the highly defensible nature of the architecture and the vast amount of resources provided that would normally go towards maintaining countless pleasure or commercial flight schedules, Merlin had become the headquarters and main staging area for the 18th Amerian Army group known as Invictus. Within the walls of the main terminal were some of the most experienced and harden officers that the sector had to offer. Under the flag of common defense and aid, most if not all of these men belonged to an alliance of several significant political organizations otherwise known as the Strategic Integrated Coalition of Sub-sectors (S.I.C.O.S.) or more commonly called Psychos for short. Currently, members of the Kasrkin Home Guard and Galactic Republic, the two strongest if not influential to the alliance, were in the process of finalizing the details of Campaign 14101; a procedure that had taken the last few days to complete.
---
Why the hell does the bathroom smell like bacon? More importantly, why the feth is that Flob staring at my stuff? Major General Gerard ‘Kingmaster’ Bergen of the 412th Endasimarian Shock Division thought as he relieved himself in one of Merlin’s several public restrooms. Standing at just over six feet tall and still physically fit despite nearly reaching the age of 50, the good general found it rather odd that the small furry creature was looking rather intently at him. The experience was something he would prefer to not let continue all things considered.
“What do you want fuzzball?”
“Paano ninyo makakuha ng iyo kaya malaki?”
“My what now?”
“Ang iyong prut salad.Ito ay kaya malaki.”
“Ahhh. Welp, it helps that I’m a bit bigger than you and have served quite a bit. So you could say it comes with the territory.”
“Ganoon pala”
I bet you do ya little bastard. Bergen thought, idly wondering just how far the two had gotten past the radar. After finishing up the awkward scenario that occurred in the restroom, he decided that it would be best to head to the war room where the final briefing was about to take place. Briskly walking down the hallway, the Endasimarian met one of his GRUN counterparts, a Caerulean general that went by the name of Riddhe. Seeing the man’s face sent shivers down his spine, something that often occurred when something very bad was going to happen.
“Bergen.”
“Riddhe, whatever did I do to get stuck with you again?”
“Lose at poker…But enough pleasantries, Overlord is waiting for us and we mustn’t keep the old wolf waiting.”
---
Ivan Eisenhorn, General of the 18th Army Group Invictus, was not the sort of person to cross paths with. Known by both friend and foe alike as a father to his men, he was also one of the most ruthless commanders when it came to war and was fully capable of ensuring that nothing remained of his enemy. Such was the folly of the United Citizens Federation whose leader he personally killed to conclude Operation: Hell’s Wrath; a military campaign of total annihilation done by the Amerian Armored Fists and its closest allies after UCF had murdered both ambassadorial parties that the Federation sent on live holo-feeds. With his Fenrisian heritage, it was quite common to mistake him for a dire wolf; an appearance that even in his old age was not that hard to maintain.
“All corps and divisional commanders are present and accounted for sir. They await for your orders.”
“Thank you captain, you may leave now.”
Turning inwards a motley crew of senior officers, Ivan began the final pre-campaign briefing in earnest. With the wave of his hand, a map of Vallock expanded into a holographic view, completely broken down into colored zones so that the status of the city could be seen clearly by all. Currently over 50% of the total number was colored green, indicating that the zones were clear of any infections or unrest, with another 40% in yellow to show that they were under quarantine and martial law. The last 10% were the red zones, areas devoid of law as they were completely overrun by the virus. Only a privy few knew that the reason they were kept under control was due to the relentless and somewhat unethical methods used by some of the more unconventional forces under Eisenhorn’s command.
“I’ll spare you all the semantics since by now you should know why we are here. Currently the main objective of all S.I.C.O.S forces is to aid the local populace and not scare them into submission. As such, the Jennen Air Corps alongside the Belkan Air Forces will continue to provide support to local relief efforts while the Phantine and Reppies carry on with ensuring that the No-Fly-Zone’s are secured; that includes their role in combat operations as well. Ground operations are to be carried out in the green zones by GRUN Stormtroopers and ISAF Mobile Infantry, KHG Elysian Drop Troopers and AREF Vanu Light Calvary in the yellow, and finally KHG Amerian Armored Fists with the Imperials patrolling and if necessary salting areas within the red zones. Cooperation is vital here ladies and gentlemen; everything that happens inside and around your AO’s will affect how this campaign goes so there will be no fucking around. General Bergen, General Riddhe?”
“Yes sir?” The two subordinate generals said simultaneously.
“We have unconfirmed reports that Kaen’s faithful servants are operating in the city itself. I want the Endasimarian 412th to commence raids on suspected hideouts across the city with the Republic 252nd on reserve. Get Colonels Radec and Vinnermen to choose some of their boys for HAZOPS in conjunction with GRUN Stalker and Kasrkin Ghost teams. Is that understood? Good, dismissed and get to it.”
Last edited by Zachg56 on 2012-11-28 03:25pm, edited 1 time in total.
-
Tandrax218
- Padawan Learner
- Posts: 184
- Joined: 2009-12-19 09:47am
Re: Fall of Vallock
is it me or did u "borow" every name from wh40k??
Re: Fall of Vallock
I used those 40k names as shout outs yeah....otherwise they are entirely different in terms of background....Lord Castellan for example....was given lordship by an allied faction, and the brigade was affectionately named such because that was the unit he held command over for the longest period of time.
Re: Fall of Vallock
This one I made a bit more disturbing, mostly because the story is rather dark and depressing overall, despite the more comedic elements I put into it....give the reader some mood whiplash every now and then XD...If people want...I can provide the current background information I wrote up for the main faction so to speak
Relief Campaign 14101: Blackwatch
Status of Operation: Nominal
Day: 7
Zone 352: Red
“Jericho Six this is Steel Talon 1-Actual, AO is clear of nosalises and chimeras.”
“Roger 1-Actual, Shadow 2-4 should be coming up to your position; ETA 1 mike. Confirm deployment and provide over-watch, over.”
“Understood Six, Shadow 2-4 has just begun to open the gates, Steel Talons will continue to provide over-watch and mech support, over.”
Captain James ‘Godspeed’ Gottfried, commander of the 1st Company Steel Talons, tersely cut the comms channel once he had finished his sit-rep. Currently patrolling the 5th red zone since campaign ops began, the 27 year old man from Hoffnung was not in the mood for any more disruptions. Considering the fact that he was in charge of a mixed company consisting of three Archon support trucks, six Cheyenne Tactical Arms Walkers (TAW's), and 12 Cougar MBW’s including his own, it was quite reasonable to see why the captain wanted to keep communications to the minimum.
While the Cheyenne and Archon are rather indistinguishable in terms of prowess; the primary unit of Godspeed’s Steel Talons, like all other walkers across the sector, was a force to be reckoned with. At 35 tons and armed with twin-linked 60mm Vulcan cannon’s, a 150mm self reloading cannon hinged on each arm, and shoulder mounted missile pods, theM109 Cougar, was the pride of the Amerian Armed Forces. Due to the significant combat multiplier it provided, there was no doubt as to why it was becoming a common sight to see in any campaign.
And yet, for some forsaken reason, the fething idiots on the Normandy gave me a space load out when I’m doing ground ops….GREAT IDEA GUYS! He griped, frustrated at the fact that the spots normally designated for a medium range sensor array and a phalanx system was currently filled out by Vernier thrusters. The mere thought of having to transition to orbital patrol duty was enough to send the usually calm officer on a warpath. Looking at his onboard tactical display, James noticed that fastback APCs had veered off its planned course; a good distraction to keep his mind off of certain things.
“Theta 2-4-2 this is Godspeed, what’s the hold up?”
“Theta 2-4-2 here, scanner’s picking up some strange feedback from one of the buildings nearby. Wraith wants Shadow 2-4 Bravo to check it out; see if they can make anything of it.”
“Understood….Lieutenant Mackle, take 08th team and create a buffer zone for 2-4 Bravo to work in….”
---
“Team one stacked.”
“Team two stacked.”
“All team, on my mark….Breach! Breach! Breach!”
Within seconds of the squad sergeant giving the order, Spc John ‘Kilroy’ Varl slammed the squad’s tactical hammer into the decrepit hospital’s doorway. Upon impact the metal door crumpled inwards, enabling the seven members of Bravo squad to rapidly pour in. Although such breaching tactics generally left very little time to those formerly barricaded in to react, what awaited John and his comrades was considerably more surprising and that much more horrific. What the feth happened here?! There’s blood everywhere! He thought, sickened at the level of blood and gore that infested the lobby; the pungent stench coming from it all was enough to make even the hardest of his squad gag.
“Sarge…what the hell happened here? Since when did the kind fathers put mutilation onto their modus operandi?” He asked, despite the doubts he had about even the Black Hand of Kaen acting in such a way.
“They don’t…You know as well as I do that this isn’t how they operate. Bravo Hotel’s SOP is to burn and purge, not maim and desecrate.”
“Still, what sick fether could have caused all this?”
“Feth if I know.”
Unsatisfied with SSgt Kuugen’s answer, the specialist decided to search what appeared to be an employee’s break room that was off to the side of the lobby. Opening the door slightly, Kilroy grimaced over the fact that the flickering lights was messing with his vision. Light’s on, lights off, lights on…..Make up your damn mind ya blo-wait…what’s that crunching sound? Curious as to what the source of the noise was, the Endasimarian turned on the tactical light attached to his rifle and started to trace a path to the general direction of where the disgusting noise came from.
“What the feth are you?"
Hunched on four legs and surrounded by what looked like the remains of several infants was a creature that would forever haunt the 24 year old soldier for the rest of his life. The monster, just over two meters tall and with one lip covering its snout and upper teeth, continued its feast upon a small corpse and was slurping the intestinal tract into its blood-caked mouth. Despite the nauseating scene, John could do nothing but watch in morbid enthrallment of the act. It wasn’t long before the thing noticed a fresh source of food, one that was still warm and living. With a harrowing roar is charged with such speed that it nearly took the Endasimarian off guard.
“Get the fuck away from me!!!!!”
---
“What the hell!? All teams follow me!”
Staff Sergeant Jane “Kitsune” Kuugen yelled, running to where she heard the frantic screams of her only specialist. Upon reaching the now panic-stricken Kilroy, Jane began to scrutinize the scene she came upon; her tail whipping furiously as adrenaline coursed through her body. Being one of the few Fenrisian wolves that could make the exceedingly demanding military regime, something that caused the Amerian military to fill a majority of its ranks up with her Endasimarian brethren, it was quite the shock to her to see even one of them mumbling from fear.
“Kilroy, calm down……Tell me what happened.”
“It….thing….half my mag…gone.”
“Breathe nice and slowly. I need you to be coherent if I am to understand you.”
“Sarge….I…I-It..smiled...entire.”
“Kil…”
Seeing her fellow comrade take a deep breath of air, Kuugen was finally able to hear what happened to him. Revulsion filled her as John described the creature’s apparent feeding habits and how hard it was for him not to watch. What the feth is wrong with this. This...thing…enjoyed eating infants?! She thought, doing her best not to throw up into the front of the entire squad. Turning around to the main group, she made one of the hardest decisions in her life.
“Team one, secure the area while team two gets evidence of this mess. I know how much you all want to burn this place but we can’t dispose of these bodies just yet. Antioch, get Kilroy in the Fastback and tell the El-tee what just occurred."
Relief Campaign 14101: Blackwatch
Status of Operation: Nominal
Day: 7
Zone 352: Red
“Jericho Six this is Steel Talon 1-Actual, AO is clear of nosalises and chimeras.”
“Roger 1-Actual, Shadow 2-4 should be coming up to your position; ETA 1 mike. Confirm deployment and provide over-watch, over.”
“Understood Six, Shadow 2-4 has just begun to open the gates, Steel Talons will continue to provide over-watch and mech support, over.”
Captain James ‘Godspeed’ Gottfried, commander of the 1st Company Steel Talons, tersely cut the comms channel once he had finished his sit-rep. Currently patrolling the 5th red zone since campaign ops began, the 27 year old man from Hoffnung was not in the mood for any more disruptions. Considering the fact that he was in charge of a mixed company consisting of three Archon support trucks, six Cheyenne Tactical Arms Walkers (TAW's), and 12 Cougar MBW’s including his own, it was quite reasonable to see why the captain wanted to keep communications to the minimum.
While the Cheyenne and Archon are rather indistinguishable in terms of prowess; the primary unit of Godspeed’s Steel Talons, like all other walkers across the sector, was a force to be reckoned with. At 35 tons and armed with twin-linked 60mm Vulcan cannon’s, a 150mm self reloading cannon hinged on each arm, and shoulder mounted missile pods, theM109 Cougar, was the pride of the Amerian Armed Forces. Due to the significant combat multiplier it provided, there was no doubt as to why it was becoming a common sight to see in any campaign.
And yet, for some forsaken reason, the fething idiots on the Normandy gave me a space load out when I’m doing ground ops….GREAT IDEA GUYS! He griped, frustrated at the fact that the spots normally designated for a medium range sensor array and a phalanx system was currently filled out by Vernier thrusters. The mere thought of having to transition to orbital patrol duty was enough to send the usually calm officer on a warpath. Looking at his onboard tactical display, James noticed that fastback APCs had veered off its planned course; a good distraction to keep his mind off of certain things.
“Theta 2-4-2 this is Godspeed, what’s the hold up?”
“Theta 2-4-2 here, scanner’s picking up some strange feedback from one of the buildings nearby. Wraith wants Shadow 2-4 Bravo to check it out; see if they can make anything of it.”
“Understood….Lieutenant Mackle, take 08th team and create a buffer zone for 2-4 Bravo to work in….”
---
“Team one stacked.”
“Team two stacked.”
“All team, on my mark….Breach! Breach! Breach!”
Within seconds of the squad sergeant giving the order, Spc John ‘Kilroy’ Varl slammed the squad’s tactical hammer into the decrepit hospital’s doorway. Upon impact the metal door crumpled inwards, enabling the seven members of Bravo squad to rapidly pour in. Although such breaching tactics generally left very little time to those formerly barricaded in to react, what awaited John and his comrades was considerably more surprising and that much more horrific. What the feth happened here?! There’s blood everywhere! He thought, sickened at the level of blood and gore that infested the lobby; the pungent stench coming from it all was enough to make even the hardest of his squad gag.
“Sarge…what the hell happened here? Since when did the kind fathers put mutilation onto their modus operandi?” He asked, despite the doubts he had about even the Black Hand of Kaen acting in such a way.
“They don’t…You know as well as I do that this isn’t how they operate. Bravo Hotel’s SOP is to burn and purge, not maim and desecrate.”
“Still, what sick fether could have caused all this?”
“Feth if I know.”
Unsatisfied with SSgt Kuugen’s answer, the specialist decided to search what appeared to be an employee’s break room that was off to the side of the lobby. Opening the door slightly, Kilroy grimaced over the fact that the flickering lights was messing with his vision. Light’s on, lights off, lights on…..Make up your damn mind ya blo-wait…what’s that crunching sound? Curious as to what the source of the noise was, the Endasimarian turned on the tactical light attached to his rifle and started to trace a path to the general direction of where the disgusting noise came from.
“What the feth are you?"
Hunched on four legs and surrounded by what looked like the remains of several infants was a creature that would forever haunt the 24 year old soldier for the rest of his life. The monster, just over two meters tall and with one lip covering its snout and upper teeth, continued its feast upon a small corpse and was slurping the intestinal tract into its blood-caked mouth. Despite the nauseating scene, John could do nothing but watch in morbid enthrallment of the act. It wasn’t long before the thing noticed a fresh source of food, one that was still warm and living. With a harrowing roar is charged with such speed that it nearly took the Endasimarian off guard.
“Get the fuck away from me!!!!!”
---
“What the hell!? All teams follow me!”
Staff Sergeant Jane “Kitsune” Kuugen yelled, running to where she heard the frantic screams of her only specialist. Upon reaching the now panic-stricken Kilroy, Jane began to scrutinize the scene she came upon; her tail whipping furiously as adrenaline coursed through her body. Being one of the few Fenrisian wolves that could make the exceedingly demanding military regime, something that caused the Amerian military to fill a majority of its ranks up with her Endasimarian brethren, it was quite the shock to her to see even one of them mumbling from fear.
“Kilroy, calm down……Tell me what happened.”
“It….thing….half my mag…gone.”
“Breathe nice and slowly. I need you to be coherent if I am to understand you.”
“Sarge….I…I-It..smiled...entire.”
“Kil…”
Seeing her fellow comrade take a deep breath of air, Kuugen was finally able to hear what happened to him. Revulsion filled her as John described the creature’s apparent feeding habits and how hard it was for him not to watch. What the feth is wrong with this. This...thing…enjoyed eating infants?! She thought, doing her best not to throw up into the front of the entire squad. Turning around to the main group, she made one of the hardest decisions in her life.
“Team one, secure the area while team two gets evidence of this mess. I know how much you all want to burn this place but we can’t dispose of these bodies just yet. Antioch, get Kilroy in the Fastback and tell the El-tee what just occurred."
Re: Fall of Vallock
I ended up not liking the transition between the last part and the next, so....I decided to add in something else in between, both to extend the life, and because I could. Feel free to comment or criticize as always....
----
Relief Campaign 14101: Blackwatch
Status of Operation: Nominal
Day: 11
Zone 1013(S): Green
Whiskey Corridor
The Whiskey Corridor, what was once a major sea route in days long since passed, now nothing more than a long strip of desert landscape. What used to be lush and fertile ground, perfect for agriculture, had dried up over the centuries becoming covered in sand as far as the eye could see. Yet, despite the lack of any resources, this narrow strip of inhospitable terrain held a sizable amount of strategic value. Due to its particular position between the Blackhead and Hadrian mountain ranges, the Whiskey Corridor was the largest passageway between the continents of Europa and Usea; it was also the fastest land route leading directly to the sole Stonehenge Array that had the capitol city of Vallock within its effective range. Located in the middle of this highway to hell, was Tawrich Fortress, current home to the 412th Endasimarian Shock Division.
Through a combination of ancient fortifications and modern machinery, the entire make up of the bastion was a sight to behold. Its gates originally enclosed by plas-steel doors, were reinforced with brand new force field walls, the latest in shield technology. On top of the fortresses five towers, connected to another by ferro-crete walls that were several inches thick, brand new turrets freshly out of the fabrication lines were being mounted; each turret designed to take on both anti-air and ground roles. Effectively the size of a large town, Tawrich Fortress also had the means and the resources of sustaining those that resided within its heavily barricaded walls. Impervious to most types of physical and logistical types of attacks, the stronghold relied heavily upon the psychological well-being of those inside for its own survival.
---
“Aaaauugh!”
I’m….alive? Urgh, not another one, that’s the fourth in a row now.
Sitting upright upon his cot, Specialist John Varl let out a sigh of frustration, for the same dream has awoken him the past few days. Despite the fact that it was a cold night in the desert, his body was covered in sweat; something that wasn’t a byproduct of the unrelenting attached to a nearby wall. Looking around, he let out a soft smile when he noticed that everyone else was still asleep, for he would have never heard the end of it if no one else got their beauty sleep. Unable to go back to sleep, the young Endasimarian decided that he might as well get a breath of fresh air.
It had only been half an hour of staring out into the vast and rather rocky territory that surrounded the base before the young engineer noticed that he had company. Apparently, much to his disappointment, John wasn’t the only one that was still awake at this ungodly hour. Then again, considering just who his late night companion was, he really couldn’t complain about his luck. Affectionately called The Sheppard by many of his flock, the 6’1” chaplain was always there to lend a helping hand to those in need of guidance.
“Varl, my child, what ails you so late at night?”
“How…”
“I’m psychic, can’t you tell? Also the chances of you beating me in PT are…”
“Alright, alright I get it Brandt. If there’s one thing I should have known after all these years is that I can’t beat you. Although there is the fact that you still have yet to convert me, ya heretic.”
“Same goes for you trying to get me to get into hockey, apostate.”
The friendly ribbing between the two insomniacs continued on for another minute or so, the two having a friendship that started well before their life in the military. It was a rather strange relationship that held their camaraderie together, especially when one looked at the two separately. On one hand there was Varl, who despite being a conservative follower to one of mankind’s oldest religions, would often take ample cracks at his own faith whenever the universe and the Holy Scripture were at odds. On the other, Brandt, belonging to a progressive offshoot, took a more spiritual look upon life as if making amends with existence itself whenever conflict ever arose.
It was through this affable conflict of faith, as well as a shared heritage, that John was able talk about the demons that currently haunted him. As he confided with his friend about what he saw in his nightmares, a strange sense of calmness overcame the Endasimarian soldier. The weight upon his shoulders was being removed in such a subtle manner that John barely noticed it was there in the first place.
“Aaaand that’s it. That’s what’s been troubling me the past few days.”
“I see, quite interesting to say so at the least.”
“Why’s that?”
“Well, it’s like you’re the first person to come across an honest to god boogeyman and survive to tell the tale. That’s why.”
“Yeah, I guess…”
“Look John, what happened back there in that abandoned hospital, would scare the shit out of anyone. Just listening to it second hand gave me the chills. While it does suck that it has found a way to haunt your dreams, you don’t have to deal with it alone. Remember the story of the man walki-“
“Bout to paraphrase the Bible on me?”
“Need you even ask?”
Smiling, the two friends let out a hearty chuckle before heading their respective ways. In the short time that the two had spent together, John was able to exorcise the devils within him as well as reminisce over the good old days. As he quietly slipped back into his covers, gentle warmth overcame him, slowly dragging the Endasimarian back into peaceful slumber.
----
Relief Campaign 14101: Blackwatch
Status of Operation: Nominal
Day: 11
Zone 1013(S): Green
Whiskey Corridor
The Whiskey Corridor, what was once a major sea route in days long since passed, now nothing more than a long strip of desert landscape. What used to be lush and fertile ground, perfect for agriculture, had dried up over the centuries becoming covered in sand as far as the eye could see. Yet, despite the lack of any resources, this narrow strip of inhospitable terrain held a sizable amount of strategic value. Due to its particular position between the Blackhead and Hadrian mountain ranges, the Whiskey Corridor was the largest passageway between the continents of Europa and Usea; it was also the fastest land route leading directly to the sole Stonehenge Array that had the capitol city of Vallock within its effective range. Located in the middle of this highway to hell, was Tawrich Fortress, current home to the 412th Endasimarian Shock Division.
Through a combination of ancient fortifications and modern machinery, the entire make up of the bastion was a sight to behold. Its gates originally enclosed by plas-steel doors, were reinforced with brand new force field walls, the latest in shield technology. On top of the fortresses five towers, connected to another by ferro-crete walls that were several inches thick, brand new turrets freshly out of the fabrication lines were being mounted; each turret designed to take on both anti-air and ground roles. Effectively the size of a large town, Tawrich Fortress also had the means and the resources of sustaining those that resided within its heavily barricaded walls. Impervious to most types of physical and logistical types of attacks, the stronghold relied heavily upon the psychological well-being of those inside for its own survival.
---
“Aaaauugh!”
I’m….alive? Urgh, not another one, that’s the fourth in a row now.
Sitting upright upon his cot, Specialist John Varl let out a sigh of frustration, for the same dream has awoken him the past few days. Despite the fact that it was a cold night in the desert, his body was covered in sweat; something that wasn’t a byproduct of the unrelenting attached to a nearby wall. Looking around, he let out a soft smile when he noticed that everyone else was still asleep, for he would have never heard the end of it if no one else got their beauty sleep. Unable to go back to sleep, the young Endasimarian decided that he might as well get a breath of fresh air.
It had only been half an hour of staring out into the vast and rather rocky territory that surrounded the base before the young engineer noticed that he had company. Apparently, much to his disappointment, John wasn’t the only one that was still awake at this ungodly hour. Then again, considering just who his late night companion was, he really couldn’t complain about his luck. Affectionately called The Sheppard by many of his flock, the 6’1” chaplain was always there to lend a helping hand to those in need of guidance.
“Varl, my child, what ails you so late at night?”
“How…”
“I’m psychic, can’t you tell? Also the chances of you beating me in PT are…”
“Alright, alright I get it Brandt. If there’s one thing I should have known after all these years is that I can’t beat you. Although there is the fact that you still have yet to convert me, ya heretic.”
“Same goes for you trying to get me to get into hockey, apostate.”
The friendly ribbing between the two insomniacs continued on for another minute or so, the two having a friendship that started well before their life in the military. It was a rather strange relationship that held their camaraderie together, especially when one looked at the two separately. On one hand there was Varl, who despite being a conservative follower to one of mankind’s oldest religions, would often take ample cracks at his own faith whenever the universe and the Holy Scripture were at odds. On the other, Brandt, belonging to a progressive offshoot, took a more spiritual look upon life as if making amends with existence itself whenever conflict ever arose.
It was through this affable conflict of faith, as well as a shared heritage, that John was able talk about the demons that currently haunted him. As he confided with his friend about what he saw in his nightmares, a strange sense of calmness overcame the Endasimarian soldier. The weight upon his shoulders was being removed in such a subtle manner that John barely noticed it was there in the first place.
“Aaaand that’s it. That’s what’s been troubling me the past few days.”
“I see, quite interesting to say so at the least.”
“Why’s that?”
“Well, it’s like you’re the first person to come across an honest to god boogeyman and survive to tell the tale. That’s why.”
“Yeah, I guess…”
“Look John, what happened back there in that abandoned hospital, would scare the shit out of anyone. Just listening to it second hand gave me the chills. While it does suck that it has found a way to haunt your dreams, you don’t have to deal with it alone. Remember the story of the man walki-“
“Bout to paraphrase the Bible on me?”
“Need you even ask?”
Smiling, the two friends let out a hearty chuckle before heading their respective ways. In the short time that the two had spent together, John was able to exorcise the devils within him as well as reminisce over the good old days. As he quietly slipped back into his covers, gentle warmth overcame him, slowly dragging the Endasimarian back into peaceful slumber.
-
Tandrax218
- Padawan Learner
- Posts: 184
- Joined: 2009-12-19 09:47am
Re: Fall of Vallock
I liked this so far 
Will there be more?
Are u posting this as you write it??
Will there be more?
Are u posting this as you write it??
Re: Fall of Vallock
I wrote most of this earlier in the year or late last year....did revisions a few months ago as I was writing a background to the entire thing.
---
Relief Campaign 14101: Blackwatch
Status of Operation: Nominal
Day: 14
Zone 701A: Red
“Sky-Eye this is Harbinger One, any word on that freighter that got past the fighter screen?”
“Harbinger, just received word from the ground that one platoon of Endasimarin sappers have apprehended its occupants and are currently doing a background check on them. Turns out they’re just a bunch of mercenaries looking for a little extra on the side.”
“Figures…Any changes in the CAP?”
“Negative Harbinger, all sortie objectives are complete and you are to RTB back at the GRS Frontier. You’ll be passing the….118th Squadron from the Phantine Air Corps once you reach orbit.”
“Roger Sky-Eye and it’s been a pleasure to work with you again.”
---
Fabian ‘Tea-time’ Sedigh, leader of Harbinger squadron and commander within the Galactic Republic Navy, was feeling rather bored at the moment despite the slight change of what was a routine air patrol. Currently his squadron which consisted of sixteen F-37 Mosquitoes, was finishing up their last sortie of the day, a flight that took them over 50 zones under mixed conditions. Reaching low orbit in three, two, one…Ahhh space, so good to be back. He thought, relishing the slight feeling of weightlessness that overcame him once the fighter finally broke the planet’s atmosphere. Nearly seconds later, Fabian saw eight A-20 Razorbacks, the mainstay of the KHG Phantine Air Corps, fly in the exact opposite direction as their own respective mission began.
“Harbinger, this is Mobius, go to USF secure…I got some bad news for ya.”
“Limo is a word Forrester, I don’t wanna hear about it.”
“It is not a word; it is an abbreviation of a word.”
“Limo is a word in common usage; that is the key phrase in Scrabble my good friend!”
“No! If it’s not in the dictionary then it doesn’t count!”
“It doesn’t have to be in the dictionary!”
“It DOES have to be in the dictionary!”
---
Zone 701: Red
“So you’re sure that these five aren’t smugglers Mari?”
“Sure as sure el-tee; just like there is no kill like overkill.”
“Right, give me a moment here to think.”
Lt. Mira frowned as she cut the link to Charlie squad’s sergeant, miffed at just how idiotic these newcomers were to what was going on. Despite the fact that all of them, according to SSgt Maricela were wearing NBC protection, it still didn’t sit well with her that they didn’t go through the proper procedures considering that there was a quarantine currently going on. They better be thanking whatever higher being they believe in, cause I certainly don’t think the colonel will be happy to hear this. She thought, letting out a brief sigh as she opened up comms with her platoon sergeant. Counting on the older non-commissioned officer, Mira hoped that he would have some bright ideas.
“What’s your take on this Shooter?”
“Well so far their story checks out fine since nothing out of the ordinary appeared in the background check. Outside of entering the NFZ and not going through the proper quarantine checklist, I’d say they’re guilty of ju-wait…something just came up…Lieutenant can you check your radar for a sec and confirm if you’re seeing what I’m seeing?”
Turning around in the cramped compartment within the APC’s turret section, Mira looked attentively at the rather small screen that was linked to the Fastback’s scanners. As she stared at the screen, she noticed that the activity within the area had grown rather considerably; a feat that was most peculiar considering where they were. After confirming what was showing up on the radar, the young officer just barely realized that her platoon had re-embarked alongside the civilians until the hatches had slammed shut.
“Sergeant just what’s going on here?”
“See those four dots bout the size of a small walker?”
“Yeah, why?”
“We don’t have any walkers in the area….and they’re heading right for us.”
Hearing this, Mira’s eyes lit up quickly as realization dawned upon her, just as quickly as the six tires of the Fastback tore into the pavement. Ordering the three other Fastbacks under her command to follow her lead, the young officer began to quietly scan the rapidly changing surroundings as the APC raced down the highway. Even though the nearest secured zone was a good distance away from their current position, the powerful engines within each Fastback were quite capable of ensuring the occupants with a means of escape. If that wasn’t enough to provide a safe delivery of those on board to their destination, the thick armor plating that encased the crew compartments would be more than enough protection to go around. At least that’s what she hoped would happen if worse came to worse.
It wasn’t until they had reached an overpass that the full extent of what Mira’s platoon was facing could be taken into account. They laid an ambush? They fething laid an ambush! She thought, shocked as the ground underneath Track 2-4-2 exploded, causing the rearmost APC to literally fly several feet into the air as it was replaced with something more sinister. The fact that Mira could hear 2-4-2’s gunner, one Specialist Mari ‘Cotton’ Maggot, screaming in panic as their APC slammed into a nearby abandon building only served to hasten her own fear induced thought process.
“Oh feth me! All tracks fire at will! Take down that damn Chimera! Take it down with everything you got for the love of all things holy!”
---
What just happened….and why am I upside down? Oh yeah….the Fastback went flying into the sky like it wa…..Wait….Why the feth were we flying? Fastback’s don’t fly at all!
Shaking the remnants of shock, specialist John Varl was able to quickly clear his head as he assessed his surroundings. Strapped into his seat, the now fully alert sapper attempted to see just where exactly they had been launched to. Using the cabin’s controls to the turret’s gun cam, John swore as the only image he got was that of the crushed rubble underneath the hull. Well shit…Just my luck, might as well see if the others are alright. He grimaced, silently relieved as the rest of the squad appeared to be merely unconscious from the quite magical carpet ride.
“Uhm….hello? Can anyone help me out here?”
“Give me a sec to get over there.”
“Thanks…are they-“
“Unconscious; and I’d rather not move them till Antioch, the medic, wakes up and gives them a look over. In the mean time give me a hand here in opening this hatch.”
The two, free from seating straps and both now standing on the cabin ceiling began to manually open the floor’s entry door, slowly releasing it to prevent any possible debris from crashing in. Once it was fully opened, John threw himself out and took stock of where they had landed. Much to his surprise, the APC had landed in the third story of an abandoned building, just short of completely being inside of it. Looking out, the specialist could see the corpse of the creature that sent them sky high, a sight that would have been quite amusing if the recently deceased creature wasn’t capable of tossing a 25 ton vehicle like it was a child’s plaything.
So that’s a Chimera huh? Damn is it ugly...Course that might be due to the fact that it had who knows how many 60mm rounds going through it. John thought, relieved that the rest of the platoon remained unscathed. After briefly telling the lieutenant the status of Bravo squad and Track 2-4-2, he quickly hopped back down into the cabin which passengers were now groggily waking up and were in various states of what he liked to call: Why do I have a hangover? I’m not drunk.
---
Relief Campaign 14101: Blackwatch
Status of Operation: Nominal
Day: 14
Zone 701A: Red
“Sky-Eye this is Harbinger One, any word on that freighter that got past the fighter screen?”
“Harbinger, just received word from the ground that one platoon of Endasimarin sappers have apprehended its occupants and are currently doing a background check on them. Turns out they’re just a bunch of mercenaries looking for a little extra on the side.”
“Figures…Any changes in the CAP?”
“Negative Harbinger, all sortie objectives are complete and you are to RTB back at the GRS Frontier. You’ll be passing the….118th Squadron from the Phantine Air Corps once you reach orbit.”
“Roger Sky-Eye and it’s been a pleasure to work with you again.”
---
Fabian ‘Tea-time’ Sedigh, leader of Harbinger squadron and commander within the Galactic Republic Navy, was feeling rather bored at the moment despite the slight change of what was a routine air patrol. Currently his squadron which consisted of sixteen F-37 Mosquitoes, was finishing up their last sortie of the day, a flight that took them over 50 zones under mixed conditions. Reaching low orbit in three, two, one…Ahhh space, so good to be back. He thought, relishing the slight feeling of weightlessness that overcame him once the fighter finally broke the planet’s atmosphere. Nearly seconds later, Fabian saw eight A-20 Razorbacks, the mainstay of the KHG Phantine Air Corps, fly in the exact opposite direction as their own respective mission began.
“Harbinger, this is Mobius, go to USF secure…I got some bad news for ya.”
“Limo is a word Forrester, I don’t wanna hear about it.”
“It is not a word; it is an abbreviation of a word.”
“Limo is a word in common usage; that is the key phrase in Scrabble my good friend!”
“No! If it’s not in the dictionary then it doesn’t count!”
“It doesn’t have to be in the dictionary!”
“It DOES have to be in the dictionary!”
---
Zone 701: Red
“So you’re sure that these five aren’t smugglers Mari?”
“Sure as sure el-tee; just like there is no kill like overkill.”
“Right, give me a moment here to think.”
Lt. Mira frowned as she cut the link to Charlie squad’s sergeant, miffed at just how idiotic these newcomers were to what was going on. Despite the fact that all of them, according to SSgt Maricela were wearing NBC protection, it still didn’t sit well with her that they didn’t go through the proper procedures considering that there was a quarantine currently going on. They better be thanking whatever higher being they believe in, cause I certainly don’t think the colonel will be happy to hear this. She thought, letting out a brief sigh as she opened up comms with her platoon sergeant. Counting on the older non-commissioned officer, Mira hoped that he would have some bright ideas.
“What’s your take on this Shooter?”
“Well so far their story checks out fine since nothing out of the ordinary appeared in the background check. Outside of entering the NFZ and not going through the proper quarantine checklist, I’d say they’re guilty of ju-wait…something just came up…Lieutenant can you check your radar for a sec and confirm if you’re seeing what I’m seeing?”
Turning around in the cramped compartment within the APC’s turret section, Mira looked attentively at the rather small screen that was linked to the Fastback’s scanners. As she stared at the screen, she noticed that the activity within the area had grown rather considerably; a feat that was most peculiar considering where they were. After confirming what was showing up on the radar, the young officer just barely realized that her platoon had re-embarked alongside the civilians until the hatches had slammed shut.
“Sergeant just what’s going on here?”
“See those four dots bout the size of a small walker?”
“Yeah, why?”
“We don’t have any walkers in the area….and they’re heading right for us.”
Hearing this, Mira’s eyes lit up quickly as realization dawned upon her, just as quickly as the six tires of the Fastback tore into the pavement. Ordering the three other Fastbacks under her command to follow her lead, the young officer began to quietly scan the rapidly changing surroundings as the APC raced down the highway. Even though the nearest secured zone was a good distance away from their current position, the powerful engines within each Fastback were quite capable of ensuring the occupants with a means of escape. If that wasn’t enough to provide a safe delivery of those on board to their destination, the thick armor plating that encased the crew compartments would be more than enough protection to go around. At least that’s what she hoped would happen if worse came to worse.
It wasn’t until they had reached an overpass that the full extent of what Mira’s platoon was facing could be taken into account. They laid an ambush? They fething laid an ambush! She thought, shocked as the ground underneath Track 2-4-2 exploded, causing the rearmost APC to literally fly several feet into the air as it was replaced with something more sinister. The fact that Mira could hear 2-4-2’s gunner, one Specialist Mari ‘Cotton’ Maggot, screaming in panic as their APC slammed into a nearby abandon building only served to hasten her own fear induced thought process.
“Oh feth me! All tracks fire at will! Take down that damn Chimera! Take it down with everything you got for the love of all things holy!”
---
What just happened….and why am I upside down? Oh yeah….the Fastback went flying into the sky like it wa…..Wait….Why the feth were we flying? Fastback’s don’t fly at all!
Shaking the remnants of shock, specialist John Varl was able to quickly clear his head as he assessed his surroundings. Strapped into his seat, the now fully alert sapper attempted to see just where exactly they had been launched to. Using the cabin’s controls to the turret’s gun cam, John swore as the only image he got was that of the crushed rubble underneath the hull. Well shit…Just my luck, might as well see if the others are alright. He grimaced, silently relieved as the rest of the squad appeared to be merely unconscious from the quite magical carpet ride.
“Uhm….hello? Can anyone help me out here?”
“Give me a sec to get over there.”
“Thanks…are they-“
“Unconscious; and I’d rather not move them till Antioch, the medic, wakes up and gives them a look over. In the mean time give me a hand here in opening this hatch.”
The two, free from seating straps and both now standing on the cabin ceiling began to manually open the floor’s entry door, slowly releasing it to prevent any possible debris from crashing in. Once it was fully opened, John threw himself out and took stock of where they had landed. Much to his surprise, the APC had landed in the third story of an abandoned building, just short of completely being inside of it. Looking out, the specialist could see the corpse of the creature that sent them sky high, a sight that would have been quite amusing if the recently deceased creature wasn’t capable of tossing a 25 ton vehicle like it was a child’s plaything.
So that’s a Chimera huh? Damn is it ugly...Course that might be due to the fact that it had who knows how many 60mm rounds going through it. John thought, relieved that the rest of the platoon remained unscathed. After briefly telling the lieutenant the status of Bravo squad and Track 2-4-2, he quickly hopped back down into the cabin which passengers were now groggily waking up and were in various states of what he liked to call: Why do I have a hangover? I’m not drunk.
Re: Fall of Vallock
Relief Campaign 14101: Blackwatch
Status of Operation: Nominal
Day: 15
Zone 1013: Green
Whiskey Corridor
Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep Beep Beep! Beep Beep Beep! BEEP MOTHERFUCKING BEEP!
Who the hell is calling? It’s….0300 over here. John ‘Kilroy’ Varl grumbled, doing his best to stifle a yawn that was about to form. The young specialist had spent a better part of yesterday bunkered down in a wrecked APC within a red-zone before his squad was able to be evac’ed by an ORCA drop-ship and spent most of that time trying not to go stir crazy. Since then, his squad had to go through multiple decontamination protocols as well as a debriefing for the battalion commander; a feat which seemed to take forever as time went on. Fumbling for his personal holo-com, the bushed trooper was able to find it; an extraordinary accomplishment considering the fact he had only slept for about an hour.
“Hey Johnnie, how are y….Nevermind, looks like you just woke up.”
“It’s O’dark thirty here dad, of course I just woke up…. Anyways what’s up? How are things back at home? Mom still worried about all three of us being active and no one home to comfort her?”
“Funny you should say that, but I actually called to tell you that your sis just arrived home. She was given an honorable discharge for her four years of service and a medal of commendation to boot. I already told your brother in DTOS about the news.”
“Did you wake him up too?”
“Very funny smartass, I can see that your time as a soldier has given you a better grasp of sarcasm. Speaking of which, how are the new members of your squad doing? And don’t try to feign ignorance; there’s not much you can hide from a retired intel officer that still has his connections.”
Welp, so much for OPSEC, crazy bastard is gonna get me killed someday doing that. He thought, touched at the fact that his dad was able to keep tabs like that. Shaking off a bit of his mental sluggishness, John gave a brief description of the three members that had been folded into Bravo squad.
Up first was the youngest, Pvt James Lew, an 18 year old fresh out of high school that had just finished his training. Both highly inexperienced and naïve in comparison, Kilroy couldn’t help but make an offhand remark about how the young private had gained the nickname ‘Noob’ after asking a stupid question if things were going to be like that one game Corona, or Halo, or whatever. Next was PFC Tange, a young Fenrisian girl that was one of the quietest, if not charming, characters he has ever met. In comparison to Sergeant Kuugen, the two were on near opposite ends of the spectrum; considering the fact that the sergeant was a very confident and warm tomboy of sorts.
“Sounds like you got some good greenhorns to look after. Now what about this Lenck I’ve been hearing about?”
Lenck, that bastard, there’s really nothing good about him. John sneered, aware that any thoughts of that particular man being a decent person were thrown out of an airlock a long time ago. While Lenck was approximately Kilroy’s age and formerly a corporal, rumors had it that he was demoted for going AWOL and was found off in a ditch drunk off his ass. In the short time he had spent getting to know the guy, John had found it very hard not to believe the rumors and had often wondered why the S.O.B had not been given the big chicken dinner or a Section 8 already. It was, in his opinion, that Felix Lenck was scum to the core.
“I see, well there is nothing I can do on my end of things about that, so you’re just gonna have to suck it up and work with it Johnnie. In the mean time, try to get some rest. I’ll see ya around son and it’s been good seeing you.”
“You too dad.”
Click.
---
Four hours later
“Wakey wakey! Eggs n’ bacy!”
“Bwuah? Oh what the feth?”
“It’s my day off! HAHAHAHAH!”
And you just had to hit me….with a trash bag. I hate you Cotton. Grudgingly, the specialist woke up due to the fact that getting smacked in the head with a trash bag was not the best way to wake up from a nap. Rising up slowly, he wiped up the last remnants of sleep as he laced his armored boots. Once he had done this, John walked out of the prefabricated barracks and out into the coming day. The cold breeze felt refreshing as dawn broke in the desert.
Let’s see, if the barracks are here, then the motor pool will be….that way. Turning towards the sun, John began his long run to Jericho battalion’s Crusader class drop-ship, The Harbinger, a process that took the better part of an hour to do. Once there, the specialist entered the spacious hangar bay, which was currently being used as the battalion’s motor pool and repair shop. Walking towards the practically wrecked Fastback that was once Track 2-4-2, his thoughts were quickly broken by someone calling him from across the bay. Oh goodie! RnD toys!
“Hey Brains, what’s up?”
“Not much; just thought I’d get someone to check out this new exo-suit brought to you by Mospeada Defense Corporation. MDC and FERDC have been working on this baby for some time now and it is a beauty.”
“Yeah? That why it has a modified version of the Revenant helmet as well?”
“What you’re looking at is the latest product of Mechanized Armor Support Systems, MASS for short. This machine right here is a two in one package my friend, and from what I’ve heard the spooks love it.”
“That so? And what do ya mean by two in one package? Outside of the attached flame thrower and buster cannon, I don’t see what else it could be good for sides being a bullet magnet.”
“Watch this.”
“Holy shit that was awesome….Can I keep it?”
“Nope! Not until it’s been cleared for duty.”
“But…but…but it has a giant crow bar! A giant, collapsible…not to mention badass…but a giant crowbar attached to it! Can I have it as an early birthday present at least?”
The conversation went on for a better part of an hour before it finally ended. Neither side had wanted to back down before a stray officer from an entirely different battalion decided to put a stop to things. That was until word came down to the motor pool about even more toys would be coming their way, and the whole thing started up again. It was, in other words, a typical day in the life of Amerian military personnel.
Status of Operation: Nominal
Day: 15
Zone 1013: Green
Whiskey Corridor
Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep Beep Beep! Beep Beep Beep! BEEP MOTHERFUCKING BEEP!
Who the hell is calling? It’s….0300 over here. John ‘Kilroy’ Varl grumbled, doing his best to stifle a yawn that was about to form. The young specialist had spent a better part of yesterday bunkered down in a wrecked APC within a red-zone before his squad was able to be evac’ed by an ORCA drop-ship and spent most of that time trying not to go stir crazy. Since then, his squad had to go through multiple decontamination protocols as well as a debriefing for the battalion commander; a feat which seemed to take forever as time went on. Fumbling for his personal holo-com, the bushed trooper was able to find it; an extraordinary accomplishment considering the fact he had only slept for about an hour.
“Hey Johnnie, how are y….Nevermind, looks like you just woke up.”
“It’s O’dark thirty here dad, of course I just woke up…. Anyways what’s up? How are things back at home? Mom still worried about all three of us being active and no one home to comfort her?”
“Funny you should say that, but I actually called to tell you that your sis just arrived home. She was given an honorable discharge for her four years of service and a medal of commendation to boot. I already told your brother in DTOS about the news.”
“Did you wake him up too?”
“Very funny smartass, I can see that your time as a soldier has given you a better grasp of sarcasm. Speaking of which, how are the new members of your squad doing? And don’t try to feign ignorance; there’s not much you can hide from a retired intel officer that still has his connections.”
Welp, so much for OPSEC, crazy bastard is gonna get me killed someday doing that. He thought, touched at the fact that his dad was able to keep tabs like that. Shaking off a bit of his mental sluggishness, John gave a brief description of the three members that had been folded into Bravo squad.
Up first was the youngest, Pvt James Lew, an 18 year old fresh out of high school that had just finished his training. Both highly inexperienced and naïve in comparison, Kilroy couldn’t help but make an offhand remark about how the young private had gained the nickname ‘Noob’ after asking a stupid question if things were going to be like that one game Corona, or Halo, or whatever. Next was PFC Tange, a young Fenrisian girl that was one of the quietest, if not charming, characters he has ever met. In comparison to Sergeant Kuugen, the two were on near opposite ends of the spectrum; considering the fact that the sergeant was a very confident and warm tomboy of sorts.
“Sounds like you got some good greenhorns to look after. Now what about this Lenck I’ve been hearing about?”
Lenck, that bastard, there’s really nothing good about him. John sneered, aware that any thoughts of that particular man being a decent person were thrown out of an airlock a long time ago. While Lenck was approximately Kilroy’s age and formerly a corporal, rumors had it that he was demoted for going AWOL and was found off in a ditch drunk off his ass. In the short time he had spent getting to know the guy, John had found it very hard not to believe the rumors and had often wondered why the S.O.B had not been given the big chicken dinner or a Section 8 already. It was, in his opinion, that Felix Lenck was scum to the core.
“I see, well there is nothing I can do on my end of things about that, so you’re just gonna have to suck it up and work with it Johnnie. In the mean time, try to get some rest. I’ll see ya around son and it’s been good seeing you.”
“You too dad.”
Click.
---
Four hours later
“Wakey wakey! Eggs n’ bacy!”
“Bwuah? Oh what the feth?”
“It’s my day off! HAHAHAHAH!”
And you just had to hit me….with a trash bag. I hate you Cotton. Grudgingly, the specialist woke up due to the fact that getting smacked in the head with a trash bag was not the best way to wake up from a nap. Rising up slowly, he wiped up the last remnants of sleep as he laced his armored boots. Once he had done this, John walked out of the prefabricated barracks and out into the coming day. The cold breeze felt refreshing as dawn broke in the desert.
Let’s see, if the barracks are here, then the motor pool will be….that way. Turning towards the sun, John began his long run to Jericho battalion’s Crusader class drop-ship, The Harbinger, a process that took the better part of an hour to do. Once there, the specialist entered the spacious hangar bay, which was currently being used as the battalion’s motor pool and repair shop. Walking towards the practically wrecked Fastback that was once Track 2-4-2, his thoughts were quickly broken by someone calling him from across the bay. Oh goodie! RnD toys!
“Hey Brains, what’s up?”
“Not much; just thought I’d get someone to check out this new exo-suit brought to you by Mospeada Defense Corporation. MDC and FERDC have been working on this baby for some time now and it is a beauty.”
“Yeah? That why it has a modified version of the Revenant helmet as well?”
“What you’re looking at is the latest product of Mechanized Armor Support Systems, MASS for short. This machine right here is a two in one package my friend, and from what I’ve heard the spooks love it.”
“That so? And what do ya mean by two in one package? Outside of the attached flame thrower and buster cannon, I don’t see what else it could be good for sides being a bullet magnet.”
“Watch this.”
“Holy shit that was awesome….Can I keep it?”
“Nope! Not until it’s been cleared for duty.”
“But…but…but it has a giant crow bar! A giant, collapsible…not to mention badass…but a giant crowbar attached to it! Can I have it as an early birthday present at least?”
The conversation went on for a better part of an hour before it finally ended. Neither side had wanted to back down before a stray officer from an entirely different battalion decided to put a stop to things. That was until word came down to the motor pool about even more toys would be coming their way, and the whole thing started up again. It was, in other words, a typical day in the life of Amerian military personnel.
Re: Fall of Vallock
I couldn't figure out a way to extend this...filler...part of the story without any major modifications....nonetheless, I wanted to show what different parts of the city would look like that are outside of the red zones...so here we are
---------
Relief Campaign 14101: Blackwatch
Status of Operation: Nominal
Day: 18
Zone 958: Green
“Sure is peaceful here.”
“Mmmmhmmm.”
“Green grass, the cool breeze, civies moving around like the dopes they are. Kinda makes ya wonder don’t it?”
“Mmmhmm?”
“I mean, here we are on some random planet doing babysitting duty while others are off hogging all the glory. What is with that?”
“Wanna know what I think? I think you should shut the hell up and quit using the comms for petty complaints.”
In the mind of Lance Corporal Quentin Vance, scout trooper of the Galactic Republic, patrolling the green zones was one of the worst and boring duties to be stuck with. The green zones, aptly named due to the apparent low risk and high degree of security involved, were also the most peaceful and civil area’s to be in; a bane to the adrenaline junkies itching for a good fight. Zone 958 for example, was one of the more suburban precincts within the city, a place where even the kindergartners could walk to and fro school without adult supervision. Outside of any PR events, most of the tasks performed could be compared to garrison duty.
This sucks, this really really sucks big time. He thought, turning his 74-Z hover bike across an intersection. As his mind filled with the monotony of the uneventful patrol, the unattentive scout never noticed the cargo transport that was in his path before it was nearly too late. Oh shavit! He cringed, slamming the breaks on the hover bike in an attempt to slow it down. The attempt was in vain however and with a few seconds the scout landed his ass squarely on the pavement, the front end of the 74-Z now intertwined with the transports storage unit.
“Watch where ya going jackass!”
“Me? You’re the one that ran into my vehicle you bloody idiot! Now how the hell am I supposed to get this shipment to its destination in time?”
Sigh. “What’s the cargo and its destination?”
“Destination is Horizon Corporation, production facility 45-D down on Herbert and Downing. I was bringing them replacement parts for a broken AV-98 Ingram labor unit; which you have so kindly wrecked!”
Looks like I’m not getting paid till I’m 60.
---
Zone 249: Yellow
“Please! I beg of you that’s my wife in there! You have to let me be with her!”
[I’m sorry sir, but scans show that you are stage one infectious. I can’t allow you to be with her at this time.]
“I don’t care about quarantine you bastards! She’s scared, let me in with her. What are ya gonna do? Shoot me?”
[I will not shoot you sir, no. However this is a quarantine situation under military jurisdiction and you will comply. Is that clear?]
“Go to hell damn bug.”
Enforcer-Scout Guraa of the Vanu Light Cav sighed as he did his best to not let the consternate civilian get under his chitin. As a member of the Invarji warrior caste, and recently had his 6th molt, Guraa could not understand why the flesh-being in front of him was unable to process thought clearly. While he knew the sense of longing for one’s queen was something that occurred in most life forms, the idea of putting the queen in harm’s way was quite unthinkable. The mere thought was enough to send shivers down his endoskeleton. And this used to be such a beautiful hive, a shame it has to be like this.
Unlike the green zones that were free of any signs of the plague, the areas that fell under condition yellow were rife with sickness and had degenerated into slums packed with refugees. Streets were often littered with trash and the homeless would often huddle over small fires as they tried to stay away from the cold, menacing insectoid figures that patrolled the area. Riots occurred on a daily basis as the unruly and sometimes desperate members of the local populace tried to gain something from their current situation. If it wasn’t for the diligent efforts of the relief forces in maintaining martial law, the place would have fallen to anarchy within minutes, if not hours.
[Enforcer unit Guraa, the pod is moving, we’re being relieved by the flesh-beings known as Elysians now.]
[Yes Sentinel Kerogga, I will join you shortly.]
---
Elsewhere
“Brother, all preparations are complete, the men are ready to go.”
“Excellent, our plans are right on schedule. We commence the raids as planned in two days.”
“Of course brother…I pray we are not too late.”
Yes, for the good of all those on this planet, I too shall pray.
---------
Relief Campaign 14101: Blackwatch
Status of Operation: Nominal
Day: 18
Zone 958: Green
“Sure is peaceful here.”
“Mmmmhmmm.”
“Green grass, the cool breeze, civies moving around like the dopes they are. Kinda makes ya wonder don’t it?”
“Mmmhmm?”
“I mean, here we are on some random planet doing babysitting duty while others are off hogging all the glory. What is with that?”
“Wanna know what I think? I think you should shut the hell up and quit using the comms for petty complaints.”
In the mind of Lance Corporal Quentin Vance, scout trooper of the Galactic Republic, patrolling the green zones was one of the worst and boring duties to be stuck with. The green zones, aptly named due to the apparent low risk and high degree of security involved, were also the most peaceful and civil area’s to be in; a bane to the adrenaline junkies itching for a good fight. Zone 958 for example, was one of the more suburban precincts within the city, a place where even the kindergartners could walk to and fro school without adult supervision. Outside of any PR events, most of the tasks performed could be compared to garrison duty.
This sucks, this really really sucks big time. He thought, turning his 74-Z hover bike across an intersection. As his mind filled with the monotony of the uneventful patrol, the unattentive scout never noticed the cargo transport that was in his path before it was nearly too late. Oh shavit! He cringed, slamming the breaks on the hover bike in an attempt to slow it down. The attempt was in vain however and with a few seconds the scout landed his ass squarely on the pavement, the front end of the 74-Z now intertwined with the transports storage unit.
“Watch where ya going jackass!”
“Me? You’re the one that ran into my vehicle you bloody idiot! Now how the hell am I supposed to get this shipment to its destination in time?”
Sigh. “What’s the cargo and its destination?”
“Destination is Horizon Corporation, production facility 45-D down on Herbert and Downing. I was bringing them replacement parts for a broken AV-98 Ingram labor unit; which you have so kindly wrecked!”
Looks like I’m not getting paid till I’m 60.
---
Zone 249: Yellow
“Please! I beg of you that’s my wife in there! You have to let me be with her!”
[I’m sorry sir, but scans show that you are stage one infectious. I can’t allow you to be with her at this time.]
“I don’t care about quarantine you bastards! She’s scared, let me in with her. What are ya gonna do? Shoot me?”
[I will not shoot you sir, no. However this is a quarantine situation under military jurisdiction and you will comply. Is that clear?]
“Go to hell damn bug.”
Enforcer-Scout Guraa of the Vanu Light Cav sighed as he did his best to not let the consternate civilian get under his chitin. As a member of the Invarji warrior caste, and recently had his 6th molt, Guraa could not understand why the flesh-being in front of him was unable to process thought clearly. While he knew the sense of longing for one’s queen was something that occurred in most life forms, the idea of putting the queen in harm’s way was quite unthinkable. The mere thought was enough to send shivers down his endoskeleton. And this used to be such a beautiful hive, a shame it has to be like this.
Unlike the green zones that were free of any signs of the plague, the areas that fell under condition yellow were rife with sickness and had degenerated into slums packed with refugees. Streets were often littered with trash and the homeless would often huddle over small fires as they tried to stay away from the cold, menacing insectoid figures that patrolled the area. Riots occurred on a daily basis as the unruly and sometimes desperate members of the local populace tried to gain something from their current situation. If it wasn’t for the diligent efforts of the relief forces in maintaining martial law, the place would have fallen to anarchy within minutes, if not hours.
[Enforcer unit Guraa, the pod is moving, we’re being relieved by the flesh-beings known as Elysians now.]
[Yes Sentinel Kerogga, I will join you shortly.]
---
Elsewhere
“Brother, all preparations are complete, the men are ready to go.”
“Excellent, our plans are right on schedule. We commence the raids as planned in two days.”
“Of course brother…I pray we are not too late.”
Yes, for the good of all those on this planet, I too shall pray.
Re: Fall of Vallock
Civilian Space Station Fermi
Horizon Corp. Planetary Headquarters
Status of Operation Genesis: phase one
Day: 20
Edwin Tejezo, CEO of the multi-billion credit pharmaceutical company Horizon, had just woken up to some rather good news. The first reports being that his company had recently been contracted out to research and create a vaccine for the plague that the planet was currently under the throes of. The second was that his company’s stocks have never been better despite the economic turmoil going on. And finally, oh so finally today is my last day of work before retirement. He thought, humming a jaunty tune as he walked towards his office. If it wasn’t for the fact that the vice chairman was yelling over the holo-net, arguing over some schedule issues, Edwin probably could have had an uneventful day at work. Knocking on the door, the 65 year old chairman winced as his colleague replied with a vengeance.
“Who is it?!? Can’t you see that I’m busy here?!?”
“It’s me Ed….Ya know, your boss? Think you can keep it down in there?”
“OH…..oh….Sorry Ed…Just not having a good day now.”
“No worries man, you want me to get some tea for you? I was about to warm some up for myself. It sounds like you can use a break as well so take ten before you get back to business.”
“Thanks for the offer but I just had some recaf; however I think I will take that rest though.”
“Good to hear, see ya around Jeremy.”
Satisfied that his co-worker wasn’t about to burn himself out in a fit of rage and stress, Ed quickly went to the staff cafeteria to grab that cup of tea that had caught his mind. As he got there, he noticed that it was devoid of the usual chatter that often filled the room, usually of different employees talking about their days and whatnot. Ooooh, could they be trying to throw a surprise for me? He mused, excited about the possible party that might occur. Turning the lights on, he was even more surprised at the twenty heavily armed men that occupied the room, holding several kitchen staff and others hostage.
“You may not answer to the governments, but you certainly answer to us now.”
---
“Sir, we got CSS Fermi on the line, but the caller seems to be under duress.”
“It’s not every day you get a chance to meet a destroyer of an entire civilization for a conference, patch the man through so we can get this meeting started.”
Gen. Ivan Eisenhorn curtly replied, ignorant of what had recently occurred in orbit. In the last two weeks the old Fenrisian General had been busy macro-managing the entire relief campaign, often trusting the various field commanders to run their own areas of operation with little interference from him. This enabled the Civil Affairs officers to work their own magic with local businesses; a feat that enabled Ivan to get some of the better pharmaceutical companies onboard and reduce the load on his own medical supplies. Adjusting the straps on his armor, the friendly face he had quickly vanished the moment Horizon Corporation’s CEO appeared on display; a group of masked men stood armed behind the helpless man.
“Attention Allied Forces, witness the consequences of your actions from heedlessly meddling in other people’s affairs....This is not an empty boast, Blatnoi cannot be stopped....We will communicate demands and conditions shortly. Let us see how far your arrogance gets you now…..Oh God please don’ ki-…”
The feed ended shortly after someone off screen pulled a pistol and executed Horizon’s CEO, muttering something in their native language as screams could be heard elsewhere. While General Eisenhorn was used dealing with terrorists through COIN and had served as a field commander for the counter-terror task force RAINBOW back in the day, the gall these cowards had would always send him on the warpath. The cowardly scum, if they think that they can pull a Neo Republic Maneuver, they are sadly mistaken. At least those nut jobs knew to attack military targets only. He thought, ears twitching as the situation continued to unfold.
“General, we just lost all signals from CSS Malta and Lumen. Both no longer are showing up on visual scans either.”
“Assume all hands have been lost and inform the families of the departed. But first get me Lt. General Pierre La Pointe of the Elysian 82nd Drop Division. There will be hell to pay for this heinous act and I want him to guide the grim reaper’s hand.”
“Yes sir.”
Horizon Corp. Planetary Headquarters
Status of Operation Genesis: phase one
Day: 20
Edwin Tejezo, CEO of the multi-billion credit pharmaceutical company Horizon, had just woken up to some rather good news. The first reports being that his company had recently been contracted out to research and create a vaccine for the plague that the planet was currently under the throes of. The second was that his company’s stocks have never been better despite the economic turmoil going on. And finally, oh so finally today is my last day of work before retirement. He thought, humming a jaunty tune as he walked towards his office. If it wasn’t for the fact that the vice chairman was yelling over the holo-net, arguing over some schedule issues, Edwin probably could have had an uneventful day at work. Knocking on the door, the 65 year old chairman winced as his colleague replied with a vengeance.
“Who is it?!? Can’t you see that I’m busy here?!?”
“It’s me Ed….Ya know, your boss? Think you can keep it down in there?”
“OH…..oh….Sorry Ed…Just not having a good day now.”
“No worries man, you want me to get some tea for you? I was about to warm some up for myself. It sounds like you can use a break as well so take ten before you get back to business.”
“Thanks for the offer but I just had some recaf; however I think I will take that rest though.”
“Good to hear, see ya around Jeremy.”
Satisfied that his co-worker wasn’t about to burn himself out in a fit of rage and stress, Ed quickly went to the staff cafeteria to grab that cup of tea that had caught his mind. As he got there, he noticed that it was devoid of the usual chatter that often filled the room, usually of different employees talking about their days and whatnot. Ooooh, could they be trying to throw a surprise for me? He mused, excited about the possible party that might occur. Turning the lights on, he was even more surprised at the twenty heavily armed men that occupied the room, holding several kitchen staff and others hostage.
“You may not answer to the governments, but you certainly answer to us now.”
---
“Sir, we got CSS Fermi on the line, but the caller seems to be under duress.”
“It’s not every day you get a chance to meet a destroyer of an entire civilization for a conference, patch the man through so we can get this meeting started.”
Gen. Ivan Eisenhorn curtly replied, ignorant of what had recently occurred in orbit. In the last two weeks the old Fenrisian General had been busy macro-managing the entire relief campaign, often trusting the various field commanders to run their own areas of operation with little interference from him. This enabled the Civil Affairs officers to work their own magic with local businesses; a feat that enabled Ivan to get some of the better pharmaceutical companies onboard and reduce the load on his own medical supplies. Adjusting the straps on his armor, the friendly face he had quickly vanished the moment Horizon Corporation’s CEO appeared on display; a group of masked men stood armed behind the helpless man.
“Attention Allied Forces, witness the consequences of your actions from heedlessly meddling in other people’s affairs....This is not an empty boast, Blatnoi cannot be stopped....We will communicate demands and conditions shortly. Let us see how far your arrogance gets you now…..Oh God please don’ ki-…”
The feed ended shortly after someone off screen pulled a pistol and executed Horizon’s CEO, muttering something in their native language as screams could be heard elsewhere. While General Eisenhorn was used dealing with terrorists through COIN and had served as a field commander for the counter-terror task force RAINBOW back in the day, the gall these cowards had would always send him on the warpath. The cowardly scum, if they think that they can pull a Neo Republic Maneuver, they are sadly mistaken. At least those nut jobs knew to attack military targets only. He thought, ears twitching as the situation continued to unfold.
“General, we just lost all signals from CSS Malta and Lumen. Both no longer are showing up on visual scans either.”
“Assume all hands have been lost and inform the families of the departed. But first get me Lt. General Pierre La Pointe of the Elysian 82nd Drop Division. There will be hell to pay for this heinous act and I want him to guide the grim reaper’s hand.”
“Yes sir.”
Re: Fall of Vallock
Status of Operation: Fluctuating/Nominal
Day: 20
Zone 1013: Green
Whiskey Corridor
"Everyone in the meeting place Shooter?"
"Prepped and ready Wraith, they’ve been mulling around for the last thirty minutes waiting for you."
"Good to hear Sergeant....Good to hear."
First Lieutenant Miranda 'Wraith' Nero commented as she and her platoon sergeant briskly walked towards a tactical briefing room currently occupied by the rest of her men. In the last few hours, news had trickled down from up top that a rogue group had recently hijacked and destroyed several orbital stations, not to mention taking several civilian workers hostage in the ones that remained intact. On top of that, because of all the debris, flying in for rescue operations was risky, if not hazardous for both parties involved. Luckily for us however, we always have back up plans for scenarios like this. She thought, barely changing stride as she entered the briefing room.
“Platoon, Atten-shun!”
The call brought everyone immediately to their feet, and earned a glare to those too slow for the Plt. Sgt.’s liking. Although Mira wondered how SFC Robinson got his voice to reverberate like that, she quickly got to the task on hand. Idle thoughts were not something to dally on about when lives were at stake.
“Sit down, let’s get started. Our current mission is to take place in zone 372, Historic District, a red zone just northwest of Canti-Col research facilities and south of the Buhayrat al Qadislyah Fusion Plant. Our objective is this structure, the Katena Space Elevator. Can someone get the slides? Thanks. Ok, as you can see the target is located on the main strip 150 meters of the road from the marketplace. Surrounding the building is a fairly large wall with 4 entry points, one on each side with the largest being the access gate from the road for trucks, heavy machinery, and damaged craft. It has several floors and at least one basement level though our intel suggests possibly another used for storage and repair. The first level is all lobby; with the second and third being office space with a couple of break rooms and latrines. North of the objective is a large vacant lot originally used as parking space, while south and east are former residential areas... "
"What's our opposition going to be like? Asides from chimera's, nosalises, and that sort of lot."
"I was just getting to that. Intel suggests that the facility is lightly to moderately defended by an under strength company of radical forces, their current designation is Blatnoi, which is what they've been calling themselves; feel free to call ‘em whatever though I have yet to come up with something better. Civilians should not be too much of a concern since most of this zone has been evacuated or quarantined though that’s not an excuse to become sloppy. As for inside the elevator, we believe there to be an unknown amount of workers and scientists. Overall resistance will be moderate to light."
"Game plan?"
I really should stop letting them ask questions like that.
“We don't have one....Just feth shit up as usual."
I should also stop replying like that as well.
"Here’s the plan: the rest of the battalion will seize an area just north of Zone...feth it..just north of Tamari while we move out to grab this piece of real estate. At 2015 Alpha and Charlie teams will move at from this holding position 1km to the west while Bravo and Delta will provide over watch and security for the flanks. Delta will secure the immediate area with special attention to this building on the northeast corner. Intel believes it to be a hive of some sorts, nasty shit in there. Once the perimeter is secured Charlie will breach through the west gate and clear the facility.
I’m sorry to rain on your already amazing day, but all teams clearing through the building will have to seal those helmets since we don’t know exactly what chemicals have been cooking in there over the years and I don’t want to stick atropine in your ass. Moving on, after Charlie has secured the entrance Bravo will attack through and take up holding positions across the street in this line of set of whatever these things are. Delta will move to this building to the northwest to secure our rear and provide, if needed, QRF for the facility. Fastbacks will move along the inner perimeter bordering the wall to provide security in case some unwanted guests decide to show up. Alpha, once Charlie has finished securing the lower facilities and its all clear you will move across the road and hold up in the area just north of Bravo. We will hold this facility until our HRT group and battalion S-2 can arrive to take control of the facility. Once that happens we will move through the rest of the zone and hold up on the outskirts to await further instructions or relief.
“Now that’s through here’s my thoughts; gentleman this is an easy mission. We have done harder with less, but don’t lose your focus. These Blatnoi folks maybe worse soldiers but they can still put up a fight so don’t get complacent. Your professionals, the best combat engineers from Endasimir and Fenrir that this battalion has to offer, so let’s get this job done and move on to better things. Questions? If not, team leaders stay behind, I have some additional info to put out, everyone else is dismissed”
"I got one, what unit does the HRT group belong to? And what is Bravo squad going to use since Track 2-4-2 is still inoperable?"
"That would be the 15th Elysian Airborne....So yes it's going to be a Ranger Challenge in case you boys were wondering. As for T-2-4-2’s replacement, the plan is to use four Light Enforcer Tactical Vehicles, Jeeps for short, for the duration of this mission. The Jeeps are design for a crew of three: driver, navigator, and a gunner, so squad placement will be done accordingly. As for load-out each Jeep will be either have a mounted MK-25 automatic grenade launcher or the venerable Ma Duece on top….I bet you gun lovers will wet yourself in joy because of that…Any other questions? Good."
Day: 20
Zone 1013: Green
Whiskey Corridor
"Everyone in the meeting place Shooter?"
"Prepped and ready Wraith, they’ve been mulling around for the last thirty minutes waiting for you."
"Good to hear Sergeant....Good to hear."
First Lieutenant Miranda 'Wraith' Nero commented as she and her platoon sergeant briskly walked towards a tactical briefing room currently occupied by the rest of her men. In the last few hours, news had trickled down from up top that a rogue group had recently hijacked and destroyed several orbital stations, not to mention taking several civilian workers hostage in the ones that remained intact. On top of that, because of all the debris, flying in for rescue operations was risky, if not hazardous for both parties involved. Luckily for us however, we always have back up plans for scenarios like this. She thought, barely changing stride as she entered the briefing room.
“Platoon, Atten-shun!”
The call brought everyone immediately to their feet, and earned a glare to those too slow for the Plt. Sgt.’s liking. Although Mira wondered how SFC Robinson got his voice to reverberate like that, she quickly got to the task on hand. Idle thoughts were not something to dally on about when lives were at stake.
“Sit down, let’s get started. Our current mission is to take place in zone 372, Historic District, a red zone just northwest of Canti-Col research facilities and south of the Buhayrat al Qadislyah Fusion Plant. Our objective is this structure, the Katena Space Elevator. Can someone get the slides? Thanks. Ok, as you can see the target is located on the main strip 150 meters of the road from the marketplace. Surrounding the building is a fairly large wall with 4 entry points, one on each side with the largest being the access gate from the road for trucks, heavy machinery, and damaged craft. It has several floors and at least one basement level though our intel suggests possibly another used for storage and repair. The first level is all lobby; with the second and third being office space with a couple of break rooms and latrines. North of the objective is a large vacant lot originally used as parking space, while south and east are former residential areas... "
"What's our opposition going to be like? Asides from chimera's, nosalises, and that sort of lot."
"I was just getting to that. Intel suggests that the facility is lightly to moderately defended by an under strength company of radical forces, their current designation is Blatnoi, which is what they've been calling themselves; feel free to call ‘em whatever though I have yet to come up with something better. Civilians should not be too much of a concern since most of this zone has been evacuated or quarantined though that’s not an excuse to become sloppy. As for inside the elevator, we believe there to be an unknown amount of workers and scientists. Overall resistance will be moderate to light."
"Game plan?"
I really should stop letting them ask questions like that.
“We don't have one....Just feth shit up as usual."
I should also stop replying like that as well.
"Here’s the plan: the rest of the battalion will seize an area just north of Zone...feth it..just north of Tamari while we move out to grab this piece of real estate. At 2015 Alpha and Charlie teams will move at from this holding position 1km to the west while Bravo and Delta will provide over watch and security for the flanks. Delta will secure the immediate area with special attention to this building on the northeast corner. Intel believes it to be a hive of some sorts, nasty shit in there. Once the perimeter is secured Charlie will breach through the west gate and clear the facility.
I’m sorry to rain on your already amazing day, but all teams clearing through the building will have to seal those helmets since we don’t know exactly what chemicals have been cooking in there over the years and I don’t want to stick atropine in your ass. Moving on, after Charlie has secured the entrance Bravo will attack through and take up holding positions across the street in this line of set of whatever these things are. Delta will move to this building to the northwest to secure our rear and provide, if needed, QRF for the facility. Fastbacks will move along the inner perimeter bordering the wall to provide security in case some unwanted guests decide to show up. Alpha, once Charlie has finished securing the lower facilities and its all clear you will move across the road and hold up in the area just north of Bravo. We will hold this facility until our HRT group and battalion S-2 can arrive to take control of the facility. Once that happens we will move through the rest of the zone and hold up on the outskirts to await further instructions or relief.
“Now that’s through here’s my thoughts; gentleman this is an easy mission. We have done harder with less, but don’t lose your focus. These Blatnoi folks maybe worse soldiers but they can still put up a fight so don’t get complacent. Your professionals, the best combat engineers from Endasimir and Fenrir that this battalion has to offer, so let’s get this job done and move on to better things. Questions? If not, team leaders stay behind, I have some additional info to put out, everyone else is dismissed”
"I got one, what unit does the HRT group belong to? And what is Bravo squad going to use since Track 2-4-2 is still inoperable?"
"That would be the 15th Elysian Airborne....So yes it's going to be a Ranger Challenge in case you boys were wondering. As for T-2-4-2’s replacement, the plan is to use four Light Enforcer Tactical Vehicles, Jeeps for short, for the duration of this mission. The Jeeps are design for a crew of three: driver, navigator, and a gunner, so squad placement will be done accordingly. As for load-out each Jeep will be either have a mounted MK-25 automatic grenade launcher or the venerable Ma Duece on top….I bet you gun lovers will wet yourself in joy because of that…Any other questions? Good."
Re: Fall of Vallock
Status of Operation: Fluctuating/Nominal
Day: 20/21
Zone 1013: Green
Whiskey Corridor
Mission preparation, the calm just before the storm, a time where soldiers did their best to steel themselves for the battle ahead. Depending on the level of prep needed, the duration of this event could range from a handful of minutes to a couple of days or months if necessary. Due to the fact that the mission on hand was a hostage situation, the moment was spent either getting basic equipment ready, reviewing PoA’s, relieving built up stress, or just calling loved ones.
For those that called home, the small amount of time being able to talk with family or friends was a bittersweet moment. For some, conversations were long and drawn out, the call just barely closing the distance torn between lovers. Others, despite the simplicity of their requests, could only send a message; a small form of communication to leave behind in case the unexpected happens.
---
Come on, pick up the phone. John thought, grimacing over the fact that his friend back home had yet to answer. Although the Endasimarian knew that there was a fair amount of time needed to compensate for the significant distance between planets, he never really knew how long it actually was until now. It had been a while since the last time John had gotten a chance to chat with this particular friend and if it wasn’t for the fact that there was a long line waiting to use the secure lines, the young soldier could have stayed there all night long.
“Hurry up man! Others have to use the phone as well!”
“Give me a few more seconds man! They’ll answer sooner or la-“
“Hi, this is Alyona Werner. I am unavailable to answer the phone at the moment so please leave a message and I’ll get back to you soon.”
Voicemail, figures. John thought, saddened that the girl he wanted to talk with hadn't picked up. Might as well leave her a message, hope she gets it later.
“Hey Ally, it’s John calling from the rear end of the galaxy, as usual. How’s it going? Haven’t had a chance to chat with you in a while…so…yeah.”
Sigh
“Hey listen, I’m sorry that I couldn’t make it to the concert with you earlier. I know you wanted to go see the City Folk with the entire gang, but things came up and I had orders to go, no questions asked. I’ll make it up to you when I’m back on Amerish, which should be in three or so months if all goes well. Anyways, I have to go now…I hope to hear from you sometime soon…Bye.”
---
Later.
He always hated the waiting; the part right before a drop where one's life solely depended on the skills of the flight pilot. Listening to the hum of the engines as they soared through the night sky didn't help to calm his nerves either. Despite having done countless drops before, both in combat and training, Specialist Alan 'Roach' Rochester could never get over the pre-drop shakes. It was as if he was a horse locked in a starting gate, ready to run at a moments notice. The flickering of the red lights just barely helped things as far as he was concerned.
"Get ready!!!.....Stand up!...Hook up!....Equipment check!"
Briefly patting down the cap trooper in front of him, Roach checked to see if the troopers grav-chute as well as the secondary vernier thrust pack were attached correctly. Roach could feel the same being done to him as his fellow Elysians went through the procedure behind him and further up the line. It paid to have such attentiveness when one was about to willingly jump out of a fast moving aircraft such as the likes of a C-25 Alesia-Class transport.
"Sound off for equipment check!"
"Ten ok!"
"Nine ok!"
"Eight ok!"
"Seven ok!" He shouted over the roaring engines as the list continued to go down. Once it had reached the stick leader, all that was left was to wait for the green light and then the drop could commence. If things went according to plan, his platoon and two others would be landing inside a large open lot, reinforcing a group of combat engineers and helping secure the area before the HRT group, a bunch of zero-G drop troopers, got their chance to play. Easy as pi-Green light.
"Go! Go! Go!"
Shuffling towards the open door, Roach barely noticed that his shakes had stopped. It didn't really matter in the grand scheme of things; in that instant he was thrown into the cold tender mercy of the night sky, falling downwards towards the planet. A little while later his grav-chute opened, slowing down his speed so that his pack thrusters could properly fire soon after.
And then, the fun begins...
Day: 20/21
Zone 1013: Green
Whiskey Corridor
Mission preparation, the calm just before the storm, a time where soldiers did their best to steel themselves for the battle ahead. Depending on the level of prep needed, the duration of this event could range from a handful of minutes to a couple of days or months if necessary. Due to the fact that the mission on hand was a hostage situation, the moment was spent either getting basic equipment ready, reviewing PoA’s, relieving built up stress, or just calling loved ones.
For those that called home, the small amount of time being able to talk with family or friends was a bittersweet moment. For some, conversations were long and drawn out, the call just barely closing the distance torn between lovers. Others, despite the simplicity of their requests, could only send a message; a small form of communication to leave behind in case the unexpected happens.
---
Come on, pick up the phone. John thought, grimacing over the fact that his friend back home had yet to answer. Although the Endasimarian knew that there was a fair amount of time needed to compensate for the significant distance between planets, he never really knew how long it actually was until now. It had been a while since the last time John had gotten a chance to chat with this particular friend and if it wasn’t for the fact that there was a long line waiting to use the secure lines, the young soldier could have stayed there all night long.
“Hurry up man! Others have to use the phone as well!”
“Give me a few more seconds man! They’ll answer sooner or la-“
“Hi, this is Alyona Werner. I am unavailable to answer the phone at the moment so please leave a message and I’ll get back to you soon.”
Voicemail, figures. John thought, saddened that the girl he wanted to talk with hadn't picked up. Might as well leave her a message, hope she gets it later.
“Hey Ally, it’s John calling from the rear end of the galaxy, as usual. How’s it going? Haven’t had a chance to chat with you in a while…so…yeah.”
Sigh
“Hey listen, I’m sorry that I couldn’t make it to the concert with you earlier. I know you wanted to go see the City Folk with the entire gang, but things came up and I had orders to go, no questions asked. I’ll make it up to you when I’m back on Amerish, which should be in three or so months if all goes well. Anyways, I have to go now…I hope to hear from you sometime soon…Bye.”
---
Later.
He always hated the waiting; the part right before a drop where one's life solely depended on the skills of the flight pilot. Listening to the hum of the engines as they soared through the night sky didn't help to calm his nerves either. Despite having done countless drops before, both in combat and training, Specialist Alan 'Roach' Rochester could never get over the pre-drop shakes. It was as if he was a horse locked in a starting gate, ready to run at a moments notice. The flickering of the red lights just barely helped things as far as he was concerned.
"Get ready!!!.....Stand up!...Hook up!....Equipment check!"
Briefly patting down the cap trooper in front of him, Roach checked to see if the troopers grav-chute as well as the secondary vernier thrust pack were attached correctly. Roach could feel the same being done to him as his fellow Elysians went through the procedure behind him and further up the line. It paid to have such attentiveness when one was about to willingly jump out of a fast moving aircraft such as the likes of a C-25 Alesia-Class transport.
"Sound off for equipment check!"
"Ten ok!"
"Nine ok!"
"Eight ok!"
"Seven ok!" He shouted over the roaring engines as the list continued to go down. Once it had reached the stick leader, all that was left was to wait for the green light and then the drop could commence. If things went according to plan, his platoon and two others would be landing inside a large open lot, reinforcing a group of combat engineers and helping secure the area before the HRT group, a bunch of zero-G drop troopers, got their chance to play. Easy as pi-Green light.
"Go! Go! Go!"
Shuffling towards the open door, Roach barely noticed that his shakes had stopped. It didn't really matter in the grand scheme of things; in that instant he was thrown into the cold tender mercy of the night sky, falling downwards towards the planet. A little while later his grav-chute opened, slowing down his speed so that his pack thrusters could properly fire soon after.
And then, the fun begins...
Re: Fall of Vallock
“Did you hear Pavelsky?”
“About what?”
“The Ghosts, the ones that haunt the battlefield; they prowl amongst the living as if it was their domain.”
Here we go again. Doesn’t he have better things to do than scare the latest FNG with these stories of the living dead? Antonio Markov thought as he started to patrol the security wall’s perimeter. Since the initial takeover of the space elevator, he and about thirty others have set up shop within the monster infested hellhole. The entire place used to be a pristine part of Vallock, a place worthy of admiration and praise; now with the virus running rampart, one could barely recognize it beyond the blood and flesh encrusted buildings. It sickened him to see the fact that even those that were supposed to help reclaim the area were being led astray by the likes of the Preservers, a radical group within the Horizon company itself. It’s just like the commander said, if we don’t do this now, then all of Strangereal will be lost.
“These Ghosts, once living men like you and me, can change shape, see in the dark unaided, and are always watching.”
“Really? H-how do you know when you see one?”
“That’s the thing, you don’t know. It is as if made of shadows with nothing will stop them, almost like they are the instruments of death itself.”
“And what about those rumors about them leave no survivors?”
“Well we wouldn’t know about them if th-“
Antonio never heard the rest of the man’s sentence as the storyteller’s head snapped backwards, pink mist following the jerky motion. Surprised, he turned his head towards the general direction of where he thought the shot came from only to see a group of heavily armed vehicles barreling down his position. It wasn’t until one of the older volunteers in the group rallied them that the Blatnoi fighter regained his composure.
“Danila, Maximillian secure those doorways! We don’t want any of them getting through!”
“On it comrade, right away!”
“Good, Antonio, get up on the second floor and provide cover fire. See if you can keep them pinned down from there.”
“You got it!”
Racing up the stairs, Antonio could help but feel as if he was missing something important, something that was so glaringly obvious but somehow escaped his memory. Dismissing this as skepticism, he set himself up right next to one of the windows, providing a clear view to the attacking force. Such an odd way to make an assault, sending the three APC’s elsewhere and leaving the one’s on ATV’s to make the breach. I wonder what they’re up to.
“IIIIIIINCOOOOOMMMMIIIING!”
Jerking his head upwards in response to this voice, Antonio received well over 200 pounds of steel and muscle from the sky into the face, knocking him well across the room. As he faded from the conscious world, the Blatnoi soldier barely had enough time to register what happened to him. Then again, for those un-initiated to the Ranger Challenge, the term dynamic entry was as surprising as it was effective. Within minutes of the Elysian Drop Troopers making landfall, ground superiority quickly fell into the hands of the combined might of the two Kasrkin Home Guard forces.
---
"Sir, we're secure."
2nd Lt. Carson cocked his head to listen to any ambient noise and heard the normal sounds of his Platoon's radios, heavy breathing of young men trying to force oxygen through their bodies, and his Team Leaders repositioning their security. No gunfire at all.
"And so we are…Alpha Four, are you still with us?"
"Affirmative,"
"Well good. Come to me; let's find someone you can talk to."
"Sir, are you implying that I can only talk to certain people?"
"Smartass”
Chuckling to himself as his men continued about their business, the Elysian officer couldn’t help but feel thrilled at the successful completion of the Ranger Challenge. A time honored tradition harkening back to the Unification Wars, the challenge was something that brought two warring nations together as they put use their respective skills to a better use. While it was a known fact that each planet that joined the Kasrkin Home Guard was required to have a fully functioning military force consisting of an army, navy, and air force, it also became very common during joint ops that said groups would stick with what they did best. As such, whenever units from the more influential forces got together, they would often come up with near ridiculous operations such as this to hone their skills in combat.
"All White elements, this is 6. I need one of the prisoners to my position," LT Carson thought about this for a moment and then added, "One that isn't bleeding preferably. Echo, I'm looking at you."
"That's bullshit!"
Carson smiled knowing that the Echo guys wouldn't ever harm a detainee intentionally, but that they weren't always the most careful with them. Within a few minutes, Echo 1 himself brought in one of the prisoners, unharmed.
"There, ya see? Couple of scratches, but nothing broken."
"What is that smell?
"Um yeah, he shat himself. But that is not my fault!”
LT Carson grabbed an overturned chair from the corner of the room, and dragged it across the floor to place it in front of the detainee. SSG Schaffer sat the detainee in the chair, and took the blacked out goggles off of the man’s head. LT Carson didn't give him a moment to get his bearings, however upon closer inspection though, it was nearly himself that would have needed to regain his composure.
“Holy shit….What the hell happened to you?”
“Kill me…..Please….Kill m….eeeeerrrrrghhh.”
“About what?”
“The Ghosts, the ones that haunt the battlefield; they prowl amongst the living as if it was their domain.”
Here we go again. Doesn’t he have better things to do than scare the latest FNG with these stories of the living dead? Antonio Markov thought as he started to patrol the security wall’s perimeter. Since the initial takeover of the space elevator, he and about thirty others have set up shop within the monster infested hellhole. The entire place used to be a pristine part of Vallock, a place worthy of admiration and praise; now with the virus running rampart, one could barely recognize it beyond the blood and flesh encrusted buildings. It sickened him to see the fact that even those that were supposed to help reclaim the area were being led astray by the likes of the Preservers, a radical group within the Horizon company itself. It’s just like the commander said, if we don’t do this now, then all of Strangereal will be lost.
“These Ghosts, once living men like you and me, can change shape, see in the dark unaided, and are always watching.”
“Really? H-how do you know when you see one?”
“That’s the thing, you don’t know. It is as if made of shadows with nothing will stop them, almost like they are the instruments of death itself.”
“And what about those rumors about them leave no survivors?”
“Well we wouldn’t know about them if th-“
Antonio never heard the rest of the man’s sentence as the storyteller’s head snapped backwards, pink mist following the jerky motion. Surprised, he turned his head towards the general direction of where he thought the shot came from only to see a group of heavily armed vehicles barreling down his position. It wasn’t until one of the older volunteers in the group rallied them that the Blatnoi fighter regained his composure.
“Danila, Maximillian secure those doorways! We don’t want any of them getting through!”
“On it comrade, right away!”
“Good, Antonio, get up on the second floor and provide cover fire. See if you can keep them pinned down from there.”
“You got it!”
Racing up the stairs, Antonio could help but feel as if he was missing something important, something that was so glaringly obvious but somehow escaped his memory. Dismissing this as skepticism, he set himself up right next to one of the windows, providing a clear view to the attacking force. Such an odd way to make an assault, sending the three APC’s elsewhere and leaving the one’s on ATV’s to make the breach. I wonder what they’re up to.
“IIIIIIINCOOOOOMMMMIIIING!”
Jerking his head upwards in response to this voice, Antonio received well over 200 pounds of steel and muscle from the sky into the face, knocking him well across the room. As he faded from the conscious world, the Blatnoi soldier barely had enough time to register what happened to him. Then again, for those un-initiated to the Ranger Challenge, the term dynamic entry was as surprising as it was effective. Within minutes of the Elysian Drop Troopers making landfall, ground superiority quickly fell into the hands of the combined might of the two Kasrkin Home Guard forces.
---
"Sir, we're secure."
2nd Lt. Carson cocked his head to listen to any ambient noise and heard the normal sounds of his Platoon's radios, heavy breathing of young men trying to force oxygen through their bodies, and his Team Leaders repositioning their security. No gunfire at all.
"And so we are…Alpha Four, are you still with us?"
"Affirmative,"
"Well good. Come to me; let's find someone you can talk to."
"Sir, are you implying that I can only talk to certain people?"
"Smartass”
Chuckling to himself as his men continued about their business, the Elysian officer couldn’t help but feel thrilled at the successful completion of the Ranger Challenge. A time honored tradition harkening back to the Unification Wars, the challenge was something that brought two warring nations together as they put use their respective skills to a better use. While it was a known fact that each planet that joined the Kasrkin Home Guard was required to have a fully functioning military force consisting of an army, navy, and air force, it also became very common during joint ops that said groups would stick with what they did best. As such, whenever units from the more influential forces got together, they would often come up with near ridiculous operations such as this to hone their skills in combat.
"All White elements, this is 6. I need one of the prisoners to my position," LT Carson thought about this for a moment and then added, "One that isn't bleeding preferably. Echo, I'm looking at you."
"That's bullshit!"
Carson smiled knowing that the Echo guys wouldn't ever harm a detainee intentionally, but that they weren't always the most careful with them. Within a few minutes, Echo 1 himself brought in one of the prisoners, unharmed.
"There, ya see? Couple of scratches, but nothing broken."
"What is that smell?
"Um yeah, he shat himself. But that is not my fault!”
LT Carson grabbed an overturned chair from the corner of the room, and dragged it across the floor to place it in front of the detainee. SSG Schaffer sat the detainee in the chair, and took the blacked out goggles off of the man’s head. LT Carson didn't give him a moment to get his bearings, however upon closer inspection though, it was nearly himself that would have needed to regain his composure.
“Holy shit….What the hell happened to you?”
“Kill me…..Please….Kill m….eeeeerrrrrghhh.”
Re: Fall of Vallock
That is one fine ass right there, Private First Class Felix “Shiv” Lenck thought, staring lecherously towards one of his squad mates. As the man stood behind the open trunk of the light tactical vehicle, grabbing various pieces of equipment from within, the young Endasimarian soldier’s mind was occupied with several less than honorable acts that he wanted to commit. While it was true that he had volunteered for military service, like a vast majority of people his age did, the reasons for doing so were not so noble. With his uncle, a senator on the Board of Security, Felix was an untouchable; literally able to get away some of the more detestable things that would send the common citizen to prison.
“Hey Cherry, could you move your leg to the left a bit? There’s something I need to get and you’re standing on it.”
“Hmm? Oh sure; is this better?”
“Yeah that’s better alright. Thanks.”
Thanks for making it easier to have a go at that is. He grinned, slowly clambering into the back of the vehicle. Although he knew that his squad mate wasn’t interested in him, like any girl that had morals would, Lenck had his eyes on the prize regardless of what she thought. Already having the reputation of a bastard, hence the nickname of ‘Shiv’ which he so infamously was given in basic, the corrupted soldier honestly didn’t give a rat’s ass about what others thought about things such as morals, honor, and all that crap. To him, it wasn’t about protecting loved ones or answering the call of duty, all that mattered was that he was given a license to kill and get as much ass as he wanted. Well, even if said ass belonged to a dog like her, but who am I to complain?
Standing just behind his unsuspecting squaddie, Lenck relished at the thought of getting some action in before the end of the mission, even if it wasn’t that much to begin with. Granted, there was the fact that they could try to court martial him for his actions, but his ignorant and ever loveable uncle back home would always find a way to get his poor misunderstood nephew out of danger. Just like with that bag of weed two months back. Chuckling over this, the shady Endasimarian was just about to grab himself a treat when he was all of a sudden given a clear view of the night sky in a rather violent way. Surprised at this turn of events, Lenck barely had enough time to realize that he was falling head first into the pavement.
Crack
“Oh sorry there mate, my footing slipped and you the only thing there to grab onto. A pity you didn’t hear me warn you earlier, could have saved yourself from that fall.”
“Varl you son of a-“
“Kas, I need you to go by the gate, there’s a panel obstructed by some debris and you’re the only one small enough to get through it all. I’ll take the gunner position until you get back. As for you Lenck-”
Furious over this upstart in his plans, Lenck could only help but snarl expletives in response. For his troubles he could only wince as he heard. No, felt, the sickening crunch of bones as the team leader stomped on the fingers of his dominate hand. How the upstart had a higher rank than him, especially when the specialist had enlisted at a much later date, the fraudulent private could not understand. Why is this feth-head so god damn special?
“Listen, asshole, I don’t give a feth about who’s in your family, or what makes you untouchable, but when you’re on a mission, the only things you think of are the mission, its objectives, and how you are going to complete those objectives in an orderly fashion without endangering your fellow soldiers. The next time I see you assaulting a woman, UMCJ or not I will be the one to put a bullet in that sick twisted brain of yours. Are we clear on this?”
“Sure thing…..lap dog of Fenris.”
---
“What, the feth, did you just say?”
“Lap dog, as in slave, a mongrel that’s not even completely human. Hell I heard that even your daddy is whipped by one of those worthless dogs.”
Oh, hell no.
Although Varl normally never let his emotions get a hold of him, this latest comment alongside the recently avoided incident that was nearly committed by the scum before him, sent the usually snarky engineer over the edge. While it was true that his father and mother were human and Fenrisian respectively, the two never showed anything but the utmost respect and love for themselves and their three children. The respect for fellow beings that was instilled into him at a young age could only respond in frustration to this highly xenophobic slur. The thought that this degenerate, who was about to take advantage of a young girl, was actually in his squad was practically unbearable.
“Feth, if I didn’t know any better, I bet that’s the reason why Vinnerman gave you some more personal training. As if the old cripple didn’t have enough sh-urghkhk!”
Shoving the barrel of his pistol underneath the insubordinate man’s jaw, Varl cocked the hammer slowly, emphasizing just how thin and fine of a line the idiot was crossing. While anyone could take a jab at their fellow soldiers, to mock Vinnerman, the brigade commander, for the man’s physical disability was tantamount to heresy. All of those that had served under the colonel, regardless of duration, held the utmost respect and love for him, especially for those that Vinnerman himself selected into the unit itself. The loyalty that man inspired, especially on that fateful day half a year ago, was so great that all the veterans would follow him to hell.
Even if there was a small chance that John could be thrown the book for this, the combat engineer knew that this was one priority that he had to set straight. As he looked coldly into the startled troopers helmet, John could see just how frightened the coward was; the man’s faceplate was fogging up so badly due to how fast and panicked his breathing was. To think that this rat actually made it into to our army, scum.
“Listen here, and listen well, I’m only going to say this once. The next time you so much as breathe the wrong way in this brigade, the MP’s will have a very hard time identifying the remains of your disgusting carcass. We may not be non-coms, but there’s a reason why even General Bergen himself gives us specialists, especially Vinnerman's Hell-Divers, a very long leash. Crystal?”
“Crystal.”
“Good, now get your sorry excuse for a-“
“John! Lenck! It’s the HRT guys and they brought company!”
“Hey Cherry, could you move your leg to the left a bit? There’s something I need to get and you’re standing on it.”
“Hmm? Oh sure; is this better?”
“Yeah that’s better alright. Thanks.”
Thanks for making it easier to have a go at that is. He grinned, slowly clambering into the back of the vehicle. Although he knew that his squad mate wasn’t interested in him, like any girl that had morals would, Lenck had his eyes on the prize regardless of what she thought. Already having the reputation of a bastard, hence the nickname of ‘Shiv’ which he so infamously was given in basic, the corrupted soldier honestly didn’t give a rat’s ass about what others thought about things such as morals, honor, and all that crap. To him, it wasn’t about protecting loved ones or answering the call of duty, all that mattered was that he was given a license to kill and get as much ass as he wanted. Well, even if said ass belonged to a dog like her, but who am I to complain?
Standing just behind his unsuspecting squaddie, Lenck relished at the thought of getting some action in before the end of the mission, even if it wasn’t that much to begin with. Granted, there was the fact that they could try to court martial him for his actions, but his ignorant and ever loveable uncle back home would always find a way to get his poor misunderstood nephew out of danger. Just like with that bag of weed two months back. Chuckling over this, the shady Endasimarian was just about to grab himself a treat when he was all of a sudden given a clear view of the night sky in a rather violent way. Surprised at this turn of events, Lenck barely had enough time to realize that he was falling head first into the pavement.
Crack
“Oh sorry there mate, my footing slipped and you the only thing there to grab onto. A pity you didn’t hear me warn you earlier, could have saved yourself from that fall.”
“Varl you son of a-“
“Kas, I need you to go by the gate, there’s a panel obstructed by some debris and you’re the only one small enough to get through it all. I’ll take the gunner position until you get back. As for you Lenck-”
Furious over this upstart in his plans, Lenck could only help but snarl expletives in response. For his troubles he could only wince as he heard. No, felt, the sickening crunch of bones as the team leader stomped on the fingers of his dominate hand. How the upstart had a higher rank than him, especially when the specialist had enlisted at a much later date, the fraudulent private could not understand. Why is this feth-head so god damn special?
“Listen, asshole, I don’t give a feth about who’s in your family, or what makes you untouchable, but when you’re on a mission, the only things you think of are the mission, its objectives, and how you are going to complete those objectives in an orderly fashion without endangering your fellow soldiers. The next time I see you assaulting a woman, UMCJ or not I will be the one to put a bullet in that sick twisted brain of yours. Are we clear on this?”
“Sure thing…..lap dog of Fenris.”
---
“What, the feth, did you just say?”
“Lap dog, as in slave, a mongrel that’s not even completely human. Hell I heard that even your daddy is whipped by one of those worthless dogs.”
Oh, hell no.
Although Varl normally never let his emotions get a hold of him, this latest comment alongside the recently avoided incident that was nearly committed by the scum before him, sent the usually snarky engineer over the edge. While it was true that his father and mother were human and Fenrisian respectively, the two never showed anything but the utmost respect and love for themselves and their three children. The respect for fellow beings that was instilled into him at a young age could only respond in frustration to this highly xenophobic slur. The thought that this degenerate, who was about to take advantage of a young girl, was actually in his squad was practically unbearable.
“Feth, if I didn’t know any better, I bet that’s the reason why Vinnerman gave you some more personal training. As if the old cripple didn’t have enough sh-urghkhk!”
Shoving the barrel of his pistol underneath the insubordinate man’s jaw, Varl cocked the hammer slowly, emphasizing just how thin and fine of a line the idiot was crossing. While anyone could take a jab at their fellow soldiers, to mock Vinnerman, the brigade commander, for the man’s physical disability was tantamount to heresy. All of those that had served under the colonel, regardless of duration, held the utmost respect and love for him, especially for those that Vinnerman himself selected into the unit itself. The loyalty that man inspired, especially on that fateful day half a year ago, was so great that all the veterans would follow him to hell.
Even if there was a small chance that John could be thrown the book for this, the combat engineer knew that this was one priority that he had to set straight. As he looked coldly into the startled troopers helmet, John could see just how frightened the coward was; the man’s faceplate was fogging up so badly due to how fast and panicked his breathing was. To think that this rat actually made it into to our army, scum.
“Listen here, and listen well, I’m only going to say this once. The next time you so much as breathe the wrong way in this brigade, the MP’s will have a very hard time identifying the remains of your disgusting carcass. We may not be non-coms, but there’s a reason why even General Bergen himself gives us specialists, especially Vinnerman's Hell-Divers, a very long leash. Crystal?”
“Crystal.”
“Good, now get your sorry excuse for a-“
“John! Lenck! It’s the HRT guys and they brought company!”
Re: Fall of Vallock
“They brought what?”
“Flyers! A whole swarm of them! It’s a bunch of god damn bats!”
Well, this can’t be good, Lt. Nero thought in apprehension, her Fastback’s engines revving hungrily for the battle ahead. Using the [Commanders] Indepentant Thermal View (CITV) camera that was mounted on top of the turret, Mira cursed quietly to herself when she saw just how big the horde really was. The fact that the hostage Rescue Team was in the middle of that mess only served to worsen things. The young Endasimarian officer was going to be hard pressed getting out of this hairy situation, especially since one false move could bring down the entire operation.
Switching to an open channel, Miranda hoped that the crew that was flying that day had nerves of steel at this particular moment. Although command had requested radio silence till the completion of the mission, the severity of coordination needed between the two groups took precedence in this matter; the loss of the HRT group had to be avoided, whatever the cost. Apparently the crew flying also had the same thought, for as soon as the craft was within visual range of the space elevator, the comms went wild.
“Mayday! Mayday! Mayday! This is Super Six-One, can anyone hear me? We are under heavy fire and have taken damage! Is there anyone who can assist?”
“Super Six-One this is Shadow 2-4-Actual, I hear you loud and clearly. What kind of craft you flying today and what’s its condition?”
“ORCA Class transport and our condition is FETHED!”
“I got two squads on the ground near your position, three APC’s coming as well, can you provide sectors of fire, we’re gonna do our best to shake as many off you as we can.”
“S-sure thing, just hurry up cause I don’t know how much more we can take!”
As the pilot of the damaged drop ship gave out fields of fire, Mira rattled them off to her men as quickly as she could. Hoping that their unwanted company didn’t prove to be overwhelming, the young Endasimarian officer did her best to ease her fraying nerves and quickly took control of the machine gun placed beside her hatch. My god, the whole sky is filled with those fething bats! She thought, biting her lip as the Fastback got into firing range. Glancing around her quickly, Mira gave a small prayer before giving the order to open fire.
“Alpha and Bravo squads, knock them out of the sky!”
---
“You heard the lady! Open fire!”
And make sure you don’t hit our own boys! SSgt Kuugen quietly added, almost as an afterthought. Such a notion was rather unnecessary though, as the experienced men and women in both squads let loose with controlled bursts of fire. Even though this was the first time that any of them had to provide cover fire for incoming aircraft, all of them were shooting like marksmen on a firing range. Things were made a bit simpler with the MK-25 launcher set to airburst mode, the grenades flying downrange acting like flak rounds taking out several creatures in one go.
Like shooting fish in a barrel.
The small moment of triumph however was short lived. Within moments, the entire starboard side of the drop ship went into flames; a plume of smoke billowing out from one of the engines. Horrified, the battle tested Fenrisian let loose a howl in rage, startling her driver over just how loud her voice was.
“WHO THE FETH FIRED ON THEM?!? I WANT ANSWERS AND I WANT THEM NOW!”
“It wasn’t any of us sarge, it was those fething bats!”
“What? How?”
“They’re making suicide runs on the ORCA! Look!”
Looking closer to the crippled air craft, Jane could only look in horror as more and more of the creatures rammed themselves into the battered hull. Soon, her fears were confirmed as the wounded craft listed sideways, its wing split nearly in two sections while fire raged across it. Within seconds, the burning corpse careened downwards and crashed, taking out a significant section of the outer perimeter fence with it as it tumbled towards the space elevator. Oh we are so fethed. The shocked Fenrisian thought, unable to take her eyes off the burning wreckage.
---
“Drive!”
“What?”
“You heard me, I said drive! Drive us to the wreckage. There could be survivors!”
At least I hope there is, Varl thought, knowing full well that the chances of surviving such a crash were rather slime. Holding tightly onto his rifle as the lightly armored vehicle sped directly towards the inferno, a small portion of the Endasimarian soldier’s mind was wondering why exactly the universe hated them so much. It was true, that he along with other members of the Amerian military weren’t the most refined group out there, but that didn’t mean that they deserved to see their fellow brothers in arms burn to death. I hate this planet, he griped, jumping out of the Jeep before it had even stopped. The reward for such a speedy exit was the ability for him to impale an unsuspecting creature that landed nearby.
Running into the shattered corpse of the ORCA drop ship, John did his best not to throw up at the site he saw. It was, for several former passengers, a rather unfortunate and gruesome way to go. Impaled from debris, or cut open from the razor sharp talons of the hovering beasts outside, were the now deceased members of what was supposed to be the hostage rescue team.
“Jesus Christ…Is anyone still alive in here?”
“Over here…We’re over here.”
Rushing into the cockpit, the specialist was relieved to see that not all had died from the crash. It was a mixed blessing though, as many of those that did survive were in no condition to fight, let alone hold a rifle. The numbers that were still capable of completing the mission were few and far from the necessary amount required for the task ahead.
“Lieutenant, this is Bravo 3, I need a med-evac at the crash site. We got survivors.”
“Copy that, Tracks 2-4-1 and 2-4-4 are on their way.”
“Better make it quick boss, it looks like those god damn bats think we might make a nice snack.”
“Flyers! A whole swarm of them! It’s a bunch of god damn bats!”
Well, this can’t be good, Lt. Nero thought in apprehension, her Fastback’s engines revving hungrily for the battle ahead. Using the [Commanders] Indepentant Thermal View (CITV) camera that was mounted on top of the turret, Mira cursed quietly to herself when she saw just how big the horde really was. The fact that the hostage Rescue Team was in the middle of that mess only served to worsen things. The young Endasimarian officer was going to be hard pressed getting out of this hairy situation, especially since one false move could bring down the entire operation.
Switching to an open channel, Miranda hoped that the crew that was flying that day had nerves of steel at this particular moment. Although command had requested radio silence till the completion of the mission, the severity of coordination needed between the two groups took precedence in this matter; the loss of the HRT group had to be avoided, whatever the cost. Apparently the crew flying also had the same thought, for as soon as the craft was within visual range of the space elevator, the comms went wild.
“Mayday! Mayday! Mayday! This is Super Six-One, can anyone hear me? We are under heavy fire and have taken damage! Is there anyone who can assist?”
“Super Six-One this is Shadow 2-4-Actual, I hear you loud and clearly. What kind of craft you flying today and what’s its condition?”
“ORCA Class transport and our condition is FETHED!”
“I got two squads on the ground near your position, three APC’s coming as well, can you provide sectors of fire, we’re gonna do our best to shake as many off you as we can.”
“S-sure thing, just hurry up cause I don’t know how much more we can take!”
As the pilot of the damaged drop ship gave out fields of fire, Mira rattled them off to her men as quickly as she could. Hoping that their unwanted company didn’t prove to be overwhelming, the young Endasimarian officer did her best to ease her fraying nerves and quickly took control of the machine gun placed beside her hatch. My god, the whole sky is filled with those fething bats! She thought, biting her lip as the Fastback got into firing range. Glancing around her quickly, Mira gave a small prayer before giving the order to open fire.
“Alpha and Bravo squads, knock them out of the sky!”
---
“You heard the lady! Open fire!”
And make sure you don’t hit our own boys! SSgt Kuugen quietly added, almost as an afterthought. Such a notion was rather unnecessary though, as the experienced men and women in both squads let loose with controlled bursts of fire. Even though this was the first time that any of them had to provide cover fire for incoming aircraft, all of them were shooting like marksmen on a firing range. Things were made a bit simpler with the MK-25 launcher set to airburst mode, the grenades flying downrange acting like flak rounds taking out several creatures in one go.
Like shooting fish in a barrel.
The small moment of triumph however was short lived. Within moments, the entire starboard side of the drop ship went into flames; a plume of smoke billowing out from one of the engines. Horrified, the battle tested Fenrisian let loose a howl in rage, startling her driver over just how loud her voice was.
“WHO THE FETH FIRED ON THEM?!? I WANT ANSWERS AND I WANT THEM NOW!”
“It wasn’t any of us sarge, it was those fething bats!”
“What? How?”
“They’re making suicide runs on the ORCA! Look!”
Looking closer to the crippled air craft, Jane could only look in horror as more and more of the creatures rammed themselves into the battered hull. Soon, her fears were confirmed as the wounded craft listed sideways, its wing split nearly in two sections while fire raged across it. Within seconds, the burning corpse careened downwards and crashed, taking out a significant section of the outer perimeter fence with it as it tumbled towards the space elevator. Oh we are so fethed. The shocked Fenrisian thought, unable to take her eyes off the burning wreckage.
---
“Drive!”
“What?”
“You heard me, I said drive! Drive us to the wreckage. There could be survivors!”
At least I hope there is, Varl thought, knowing full well that the chances of surviving such a crash were rather slime. Holding tightly onto his rifle as the lightly armored vehicle sped directly towards the inferno, a small portion of the Endasimarian soldier’s mind was wondering why exactly the universe hated them so much. It was true, that he along with other members of the Amerian military weren’t the most refined group out there, but that didn’t mean that they deserved to see their fellow brothers in arms burn to death. I hate this planet, he griped, jumping out of the Jeep before it had even stopped. The reward for such a speedy exit was the ability for him to impale an unsuspecting creature that landed nearby.
Running into the shattered corpse of the ORCA drop ship, John did his best not to throw up at the site he saw. It was, for several former passengers, a rather unfortunate and gruesome way to go. Impaled from debris, or cut open from the razor sharp talons of the hovering beasts outside, were the now deceased members of what was supposed to be the hostage rescue team.
“Jesus Christ…Is anyone still alive in here?”
“Over here…We’re over here.”
Rushing into the cockpit, the specialist was relieved to see that not all had died from the crash. It was a mixed blessing though, as many of those that did survive were in no condition to fight, let alone hold a rifle. The numbers that were still capable of completing the mission were few and far from the necessary amount required for the task ahead.
“Lieutenant, this is Bravo 3, I need a med-evac at the crash site. We got survivors.”
“Copy that, Tracks 2-4-1 and 2-4-4 are on their way.”
“Better make it quick boss, it looks like those god damn bats think we might make a nice snack.”
Re: Fall of Vallock
“No no, behind that billboard.”
“Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! I see them!”
“Five more; coming from the right!”
Firing a GRM-260 in short bursts; Specialist James Kim was doing his best not to panic about the approaching horde of creatures. Ever since the ORCA drop ship crashed, things have steadily gotten worse and worse for the Elysian drop troopers that were holed up in the space elevator site. The enemy attacking their position was like a tide, hundreds of creatures swarming through the lot, all hell-bent on annihilating those that would dare to enter their territory. To the twenty-three year old drop trooper, the siege by the surprisingly agile nosalises and their devil-bat friends seemed to last for hours; uncompromising wave after wave charged heedlessly into the incoming fire. It was almost ironic to think that earlier in the night, it was the Elysian’s and their fellow American counterparts attacking the very same buildings that they were now defending.
“Shit, they’re overrunning one of the gen buildings!”
“Is anyone in there?”
“Charlie squad, 2nd Platoon; Weps’ group.”
Frak, where the hell are those engineers?!? James thought, frustrated over the fact that they had lost sight of the Amerian APC’s after they had med-evaced the survivors of the ORCA drop-ship. Although the probable loss of such heavily armed vehicles would have been disheartening, the fact that the ground they were losing was being paid in their own blood, was practically demoralizing. Now, with the complete lack of any support vehicles in the area, things were becoming rather grim.
“LIKE MIGHTY WARRIORS OF THE PAST, WE SHALL FELL THESE FOUL SPACE KOREANS!”
Da Fuq?
Surprised at this latest comment which seemingly came out of nowhere, Spc Kim was shocked to see that a nearby table was now being used as a mount for an MK-25 grenade launcher. Staring at the newest addition of firepower into his group’s arsenal, the drop trooper briefly wondered where it came from till he noticed the markings on the gunner’s shoulder patch. By the time the Elysian realized just who it was; the venerable weapon was firing down range and unleashing a torrential downpour of fragmentation rounds upon the unsuspecting creatures.
“Who the hell are you guys and what the frak do you think you’re doing here?”
“Specialist Bruce Leanders, at your service; if you haven’t noticed by now we’re fortifying the feth out of this place! We’re not gonna let the damn zerg take what is ours, or did one too many drops cause you to lose a few marbles?”
---
Things were not looking so well for Captain Pablo Del Rio, or the rest of the surviving members of his group. On one hand, they had lost a vast majority of men and equipment to a surprise attack by the never seen before until now flying creatures which currently surrounded the very site he was in; an event that no one was prepared for. On the other hand, while he could supplement those still mission-capable with the local troopers, the present circumstances prevented him from doing so. Caught between a rock and a hard place, he thought, grimacing in frustration as an Amerian medic pushed his dislocated shoulder back into place.
“Corporal Antoich was it?”
“Yes sir?”
“What’s your assessment of the current situation?”
“Well sir, I’d be lying if I didn’t say so, but if we don’t stop those damn nosalises and fliers in their tracks now, I doubt we’ll be able to continue holding out here.”
“I see.”
After letting the medic continue his business of taking care of the wounded, the Elysian captain quietly scanned the room, searching amongst those still standing. When he had found the man he was looking for, the ragged officer motioned for the jumpy trooper to come towards him. To his appreciation, the advanced comms system on the soldier’s back was still in working order. At least one thing has gone right, Pablo thought, patting the radio technician on the shoulder.
“Think you can get us an airstrike or two?”
---
“FUCK! YOU!”
Smashing a hammer into the skull of a nosalis, Specialist Varl was rewarded for his efforts with a reverberating crack of the creature’s skull as the blunt tool impacted against flesh and bone. In the last half hour or so, members of Bravo squad as well as some of Charlie had been busy barricading the entire first floor, welding doors shut and blocking windows whenever they found any. Having given up the heavy weaponry which was previously mounted upon their light vehicles to their fellow soldiers holding off chokepoints, the combat engineers had to make several mad dashes to and fro cover, hoping that their much lighter handheld weaponry could keep the relentless horde at bay while they went about their business. Now, having barricaded most if not all the openings on the first floor, Varl and his team had come across one of the mindless animals as it somehow got itself stuck into a service entrance. A particular obstacle that specialist found most easily to deal with by some major application of blunt force trauma.
“My, what colorful language you have there, Kilroy. Where do you learn such diverse words?”
“It’s like feth, frak, or fiek. The difference is fuck is a lot more cathartic than the rest of those, Sarge.”
After bludgeoning the hammer into the nosalis’s head a few times, making sure that the creature was in fact dead and not momentarily stunned, the two soldiers hastily went about the process of removing the carcass from the doorframe. Before they could actually do away with the bloodied corpse and proceed with sealing the door shut, the frantic calls of a nearby soldier, one of the very ones that they rescued, stopped them in their tracks. What now? John thought, slightly frustrated at this latest interruption.
“What is it tech sergeant?”
“I need access to the outside, have to get this green smoke into the open.”
“Can’t you do it from the second floor?”
“Tried that twice already, fliers ended up grabbing it in the air before it could hit the ground.”
“Scheisse. Alright, Kilroy you’re with me, Cherry and Lew will stay here and keep us covered. Hope five seconds will be enough time for you. On my mark…in three…two…one…GO!”
Upon SSgt Kuugen’s command, the two NCO’s simultaneously firmly booted the corpse out of the way, firing controlled shots from the hip as they created a buffer zone from the door way. When one of the nosalis came out from a blind spot, John was momentarily taken aback when the creature attempted to grapple away his rifle. Trying to get all kung fu on me eh smart guy? He thought, recovering quickly as he responded to this latest threat. Releasing his grip on the rifle, the adept engineer rapidly pulled out his sidearm, a venerable pistol whose design originates to days long since passed, shooting the entire magazine into the creature’s neck.
As the dying creature grasped for its missing throat, John quietly wondered how much time the ETAC would take in throwing the smoke grenade. His idle thoughts were rewarded, much to his chagrin, with a resounding thunk as the 21 ounce cylinder bounced off the back of his helmet. Grabbing a hold of the primed grenade, the combat engineer threw a quick glance back towards the tech sergeant before tossing the canister out into the horde. Barely paying attention to the popped smoke, the soldiers committed a hasty retreat back into the building, slamming the door shut as the last of them entered.
“Seriously, who taught you how to throw? My grandma can do better than that.”
“It slipped…”
“Whatever. Hey Sarge, mind if I grab Cotton and Lee? See if we can repair some of the equipment that we salvaged from the wreck?”
“Heheheh sure thing, and watch out for flying canisters.”
Very funny, he thought, finishing the weld on the now secured service door. As John rushed down the hallway, he momentarily felt the concussive force of freshly dropped bombs, as a pair of nearby F-37 Mosquitoes released their payloads. The various screams he heard as several creatures caught in the blast thrashed around in agony was surprisingly a refreshing sound for the young Endasimarian, as he no longer had to worry about weathering the storm for a while now; just enough time to get things ready for the next stage.
“Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! I see them!”
“Five more; coming from the right!”
Firing a GRM-260 in short bursts; Specialist James Kim was doing his best not to panic about the approaching horde of creatures. Ever since the ORCA drop ship crashed, things have steadily gotten worse and worse for the Elysian drop troopers that were holed up in the space elevator site. The enemy attacking their position was like a tide, hundreds of creatures swarming through the lot, all hell-bent on annihilating those that would dare to enter their territory. To the twenty-three year old drop trooper, the siege by the surprisingly agile nosalises and their devil-bat friends seemed to last for hours; uncompromising wave after wave charged heedlessly into the incoming fire. It was almost ironic to think that earlier in the night, it was the Elysian’s and their fellow American counterparts attacking the very same buildings that they were now defending.
“Shit, they’re overrunning one of the gen buildings!”
“Is anyone in there?”
“Charlie squad, 2nd Platoon; Weps’ group.”
Frak, where the hell are those engineers?!? James thought, frustrated over the fact that they had lost sight of the Amerian APC’s after they had med-evaced the survivors of the ORCA drop-ship. Although the probable loss of such heavily armed vehicles would have been disheartening, the fact that the ground they were losing was being paid in their own blood, was practically demoralizing. Now, with the complete lack of any support vehicles in the area, things were becoming rather grim.
“LIKE MIGHTY WARRIORS OF THE PAST, WE SHALL FELL THESE FOUL SPACE KOREANS!”
Da Fuq?
Surprised at this latest comment which seemingly came out of nowhere, Spc Kim was shocked to see that a nearby table was now being used as a mount for an MK-25 grenade launcher. Staring at the newest addition of firepower into his group’s arsenal, the drop trooper briefly wondered where it came from till he noticed the markings on the gunner’s shoulder patch. By the time the Elysian realized just who it was; the venerable weapon was firing down range and unleashing a torrential downpour of fragmentation rounds upon the unsuspecting creatures.
“Who the hell are you guys and what the frak do you think you’re doing here?”
“Specialist Bruce Leanders, at your service; if you haven’t noticed by now we’re fortifying the feth out of this place! We’re not gonna let the damn zerg take what is ours, or did one too many drops cause you to lose a few marbles?”
---
Things were not looking so well for Captain Pablo Del Rio, or the rest of the surviving members of his group. On one hand, they had lost a vast majority of men and equipment to a surprise attack by the never seen before until now flying creatures which currently surrounded the very site he was in; an event that no one was prepared for. On the other hand, while he could supplement those still mission-capable with the local troopers, the present circumstances prevented him from doing so. Caught between a rock and a hard place, he thought, grimacing in frustration as an Amerian medic pushed his dislocated shoulder back into place.
“Corporal Antoich was it?”
“Yes sir?”
“What’s your assessment of the current situation?”
“Well sir, I’d be lying if I didn’t say so, but if we don’t stop those damn nosalises and fliers in their tracks now, I doubt we’ll be able to continue holding out here.”
“I see.”
After letting the medic continue his business of taking care of the wounded, the Elysian captain quietly scanned the room, searching amongst those still standing. When he had found the man he was looking for, the ragged officer motioned for the jumpy trooper to come towards him. To his appreciation, the advanced comms system on the soldier’s back was still in working order. At least one thing has gone right, Pablo thought, patting the radio technician on the shoulder.
“Think you can get us an airstrike or two?”
---
“FUCK! YOU!”
Smashing a hammer into the skull of a nosalis, Specialist Varl was rewarded for his efforts with a reverberating crack of the creature’s skull as the blunt tool impacted against flesh and bone. In the last half hour or so, members of Bravo squad as well as some of Charlie had been busy barricading the entire first floor, welding doors shut and blocking windows whenever they found any. Having given up the heavy weaponry which was previously mounted upon their light vehicles to their fellow soldiers holding off chokepoints, the combat engineers had to make several mad dashes to and fro cover, hoping that their much lighter handheld weaponry could keep the relentless horde at bay while they went about their business. Now, having barricaded most if not all the openings on the first floor, Varl and his team had come across one of the mindless animals as it somehow got itself stuck into a service entrance. A particular obstacle that specialist found most easily to deal with by some major application of blunt force trauma.
“My, what colorful language you have there, Kilroy. Where do you learn such diverse words?”
“It’s like feth, frak, or fiek. The difference is fuck is a lot more cathartic than the rest of those, Sarge.”
After bludgeoning the hammer into the nosalis’s head a few times, making sure that the creature was in fact dead and not momentarily stunned, the two soldiers hastily went about the process of removing the carcass from the doorframe. Before they could actually do away with the bloodied corpse and proceed with sealing the door shut, the frantic calls of a nearby soldier, one of the very ones that they rescued, stopped them in their tracks. What now? John thought, slightly frustrated at this latest interruption.
“What is it tech sergeant?”
“I need access to the outside, have to get this green smoke into the open.”
“Can’t you do it from the second floor?”
“Tried that twice already, fliers ended up grabbing it in the air before it could hit the ground.”
“Scheisse. Alright, Kilroy you’re with me, Cherry and Lew will stay here and keep us covered. Hope five seconds will be enough time for you. On my mark…in three…two…one…GO!”
Upon SSgt Kuugen’s command, the two NCO’s simultaneously firmly booted the corpse out of the way, firing controlled shots from the hip as they created a buffer zone from the door way. When one of the nosalis came out from a blind spot, John was momentarily taken aback when the creature attempted to grapple away his rifle. Trying to get all kung fu on me eh smart guy? He thought, recovering quickly as he responded to this latest threat. Releasing his grip on the rifle, the adept engineer rapidly pulled out his sidearm, a venerable pistol whose design originates to days long since passed, shooting the entire magazine into the creature’s neck.
As the dying creature grasped for its missing throat, John quietly wondered how much time the ETAC would take in throwing the smoke grenade. His idle thoughts were rewarded, much to his chagrin, with a resounding thunk as the 21 ounce cylinder bounced off the back of his helmet. Grabbing a hold of the primed grenade, the combat engineer threw a quick glance back towards the tech sergeant before tossing the canister out into the horde. Barely paying attention to the popped smoke, the soldiers committed a hasty retreat back into the building, slamming the door shut as the last of them entered.
“Seriously, who taught you how to throw? My grandma can do better than that.”
“It slipped…”
“Whatever. Hey Sarge, mind if I grab Cotton and Lee? See if we can repair some of the equipment that we salvaged from the wreck?”
“Heheheh sure thing, and watch out for flying canisters.”
Very funny, he thought, finishing the weld on the now secured service door. As John rushed down the hallway, he momentarily felt the concussive force of freshly dropped bombs, as a pair of nearby F-37 Mosquitoes released their payloads. The various screams he heard as several creatures caught in the blast thrashed around in agony was surprisingly a refreshing sound for the young Endasimarian, as he no longer had to worry about weathering the storm for a while now; just enough time to get things ready for the next stage.
Re: Fall of Vallock
“Alright, let’s get down to business.”
As the last ranking member entered the impromptu meeting room, a small office that had been left relatively undamaged from prior fighting, Captain Del Rio began his briefing with his fellow officers and senior NCO’s of the mixed Amerian and Elysian force. Not wasting any time, the firm captain quickly went about the current situation as well as what high command expected them to accomplish, despite the prior incident that had occurred which killed off several key players of the operation. They’re not going to like this either, he thought, calmly looking at the worn-out faces of those that currently accompanied him.
“As you all know, this space elevator is the only accessible route that the Home Guard currently has in regards to getting to the CSS Fermi and occupants inside. Overlord has specifically requested the successful completion of this mission, due to the fact that several of those taken hostage are high ranking officials of the company Horizon, which if you haven’t heard, is the group that was selected to make the vaccine for this particular plague. Now despite the stellar accomplishments of our boys and girls in the earliest phase of operations, things went south rather quickly for us. Captain Raines?”
Nodding respectfully to his fellow captain, the astute officer let out a soft sigh as his colleague went about informing the others. Always hated being the bearer of bad news, he thought, wincing slightly in sympathy towards his fellow Elysian commander. The HRT captain winced even more so when he heard just how bad things really were, as he did not expect the shivat to hit the fan so quickly.
“5th Company got pretty mauled pretty badly in that last assault; we lost 2nd Lieutenant Williams and half of 3rd platoon when they were caught out in the open by those…uh…kylfus. 1st and 2nd platoons have taken lighter casualties, mostly wounds caused by the nosalises, but nothing critical or life threatening. So far, 5th company is currently at two-thirds of its original strength, but we’re limited in terms of deployment capabilities.”
“Understood, and how are things in the equipment and supplies area? Lieutenant Nero?”
“You want the long or short version?”
“The short, I don’t want to beat around the bush if you know what I mean.”
“Short version is, we’re fethed if we come under siege like that again, that last assault was a serious drain on our supplies across the board. I had some of my men take up stock on the ammunition reserves and we have enough for three magazines per person; 2 for light machine guns. My tracks took quite a bit of damage before we put them in the garage, and the scout vehicles look like they’ve been put through the meat grinder. Good news is that we found three Mako heavy transport vehicles in the loading bay, which are currently being retrofitted for our use. As for what we saved from Super Six-One, well I have some of my specialists pilfering through it right now.”
Short version my ass, Del Rio thought, noticing a touch of humor in the young officer’s explanation. Although he couldn’t put a finger on it but when the Amerian engineer had mentioned specialists, various red flags went off in his head. Shaking it off as skepticism, the Elysian captain decided that now was probably the best time to tell the other officers of what had to be done. All things considered, considering the storm they all had just went through, there was a good chance that everyone in the room knew what had to be done.
“Alright, that settles that then. Now because of the sensitivity of this operation, my men and I will still have to continue our phase of the operation. However, since the HRT is not up to mission strength, I will need to fill in the ranks with what we have locally. Captain Raines, I’m going to need you to choose some of your cap troopers to plug the gaps in my roster. Lieutenant Nero, make sure your men can get those vehicles ready; evac the wounded as well as the prisoners. Unfortunately, that will leave some of us behind to protect the elevator and ensure nothing gets up there. It’s a suicide op at be-“
“DID SOMEONE SAY SUICIDE OP? I LIKE SUICIDE OPS!”
---
Standing before the dumbfounded HRT commander, John Varl couldn’t help but grin insanely in his helmet as the leader of the specialist pack, SSgt Foulke, ever so casually interrupted the officers meeting. Aside Varl himself were his fellow specialists Leanders and Maggot, three of the most eccentric, if not ruthless batch of engineers under Lieutenant Nero’s command. The fact that the three of them, including the unconventional sergeant Foulke, were wearing recently repaired and repurposed jetpacks made the entire thing that much more confusing. We timed it perfectly too, he thought, doing his best not to laugh at the insanely ridiculous breach of protocol the four had done.
“Troopers, what the frak do you think you are doing here?”
“38th Spectre Unit, Vinnnerman’s Hell-Divers at your service. You want someone to stay behind? We’re your men.”
“I can see that, as well as the salvaged jetpacks. How many did you get fixed?”
“Half of them, but we had to work in the kitchen so that Cotton here could help us by making us all some sammiches.”
Now’s not the time to make such jokes Leanders…
“I make good sammiches.”
Ah feth it.
“Really good sammiches at that.”
Noticing the fumes coming out of the Elysian captain’s helmet, John let out a brief sigh of relief when SSgt Foulke retook control of the insane group. Although the good Colonel Vinnerman gave the improvised unit plenty of leeway within their own brigade, driving their allied officers up a wall was probably on the “Do not do for the love of all things holy” list. It was hard enough keeping four of the Hell-Divers together without blowing something up as is, let alone when the entire ad-hoc company of volunteers was in the same band wagon.
“Forgive our earlier intrusion sir, but us Hell-Divers are fully capable of handling the suicide art ourselves. We’ve had prior experience in such matters, and won’t let you down. Provided a few extra explosives, four to six mini-sentry gun turrets, two GRM-260’s, some spare M-420 grenades, and ammunition to go around, we could hold out for forty five minutes to an hour max. Then, if possible, lead the horde on a merry goose chase on our tails while the rest high tail it back to the RP.”
“How do you expect to get out of the lobby?”
“That’s where the extra explosives come in. We’re going to use the service elevator, plant some C7 charges on one of the shaft’s walls a few hundred feet up, blow us a hole and hot drop back down to the ground. That’s were hopefully they’ll be dumb enough to follow us, instead of going the hundred miles up into space.”
“How much time do you need to set everything up?”
“15-20 minutes max?”
“Right…. Ok Hell-Divers get ready for your suicide run. As for the rest of you….”
As the last ranking member entered the impromptu meeting room, a small office that had been left relatively undamaged from prior fighting, Captain Del Rio began his briefing with his fellow officers and senior NCO’s of the mixed Amerian and Elysian force. Not wasting any time, the firm captain quickly went about the current situation as well as what high command expected them to accomplish, despite the prior incident that had occurred which killed off several key players of the operation. They’re not going to like this either, he thought, calmly looking at the worn-out faces of those that currently accompanied him.
“As you all know, this space elevator is the only accessible route that the Home Guard currently has in regards to getting to the CSS Fermi and occupants inside. Overlord has specifically requested the successful completion of this mission, due to the fact that several of those taken hostage are high ranking officials of the company Horizon, which if you haven’t heard, is the group that was selected to make the vaccine for this particular plague. Now despite the stellar accomplishments of our boys and girls in the earliest phase of operations, things went south rather quickly for us. Captain Raines?”
Nodding respectfully to his fellow captain, the astute officer let out a soft sigh as his colleague went about informing the others. Always hated being the bearer of bad news, he thought, wincing slightly in sympathy towards his fellow Elysian commander. The HRT captain winced even more so when he heard just how bad things really were, as he did not expect the shivat to hit the fan so quickly.
“5th Company got pretty mauled pretty badly in that last assault; we lost 2nd Lieutenant Williams and half of 3rd platoon when they were caught out in the open by those…uh…kylfus. 1st and 2nd platoons have taken lighter casualties, mostly wounds caused by the nosalises, but nothing critical or life threatening. So far, 5th company is currently at two-thirds of its original strength, but we’re limited in terms of deployment capabilities.”
“Understood, and how are things in the equipment and supplies area? Lieutenant Nero?”
“You want the long or short version?”
“The short, I don’t want to beat around the bush if you know what I mean.”
“Short version is, we’re fethed if we come under siege like that again, that last assault was a serious drain on our supplies across the board. I had some of my men take up stock on the ammunition reserves and we have enough for three magazines per person; 2 for light machine guns. My tracks took quite a bit of damage before we put them in the garage, and the scout vehicles look like they’ve been put through the meat grinder. Good news is that we found three Mako heavy transport vehicles in the loading bay, which are currently being retrofitted for our use. As for what we saved from Super Six-One, well I have some of my specialists pilfering through it right now.”
Short version my ass, Del Rio thought, noticing a touch of humor in the young officer’s explanation. Although he couldn’t put a finger on it but when the Amerian engineer had mentioned specialists, various red flags went off in his head. Shaking it off as skepticism, the Elysian captain decided that now was probably the best time to tell the other officers of what had to be done. All things considered, considering the storm they all had just went through, there was a good chance that everyone in the room knew what had to be done.
“Alright, that settles that then. Now because of the sensitivity of this operation, my men and I will still have to continue our phase of the operation. However, since the HRT is not up to mission strength, I will need to fill in the ranks with what we have locally. Captain Raines, I’m going to need you to choose some of your cap troopers to plug the gaps in my roster. Lieutenant Nero, make sure your men can get those vehicles ready; evac the wounded as well as the prisoners. Unfortunately, that will leave some of us behind to protect the elevator and ensure nothing gets up there. It’s a suicide op at be-“
“DID SOMEONE SAY SUICIDE OP? I LIKE SUICIDE OPS!”
---
Standing before the dumbfounded HRT commander, John Varl couldn’t help but grin insanely in his helmet as the leader of the specialist pack, SSgt Foulke, ever so casually interrupted the officers meeting. Aside Varl himself were his fellow specialists Leanders and Maggot, three of the most eccentric, if not ruthless batch of engineers under Lieutenant Nero’s command. The fact that the three of them, including the unconventional sergeant Foulke, were wearing recently repaired and repurposed jetpacks made the entire thing that much more confusing. We timed it perfectly too, he thought, doing his best not to laugh at the insanely ridiculous breach of protocol the four had done.
“Troopers, what the frak do you think you are doing here?”
“38th Spectre Unit, Vinnnerman’s Hell-Divers at your service. You want someone to stay behind? We’re your men.”
“I can see that, as well as the salvaged jetpacks. How many did you get fixed?”
“Half of them, but we had to work in the kitchen so that Cotton here could help us by making us all some sammiches.”
Now’s not the time to make such jokes Leanders…
“I make good sammiches.”
Ah feth it.
“Really good sammiches at that.”
Noticing the fumes coming out of the Elysian captain’s helmet, John let out a brief sigh of relief when SSgt Foulke retook control of the insane group. Although the good Colonel Vinnerman gave the improvised unit plenty of leeway within their own brigade, driving their allied officers up a wall was probably on the “Do not do for the love of all things holy” list. It was hard enough keeping four of the Hell-Divers together without blowing something up as is, let alone when the entire ad-hoc company of volunteers was in the same band wagon.
“Forgive our earlier intrusion sir, but us Hell-Divers are fully capable of handling the suicide art ourselves. We’ve had prior experience in such matters, and won’t let you down. Provided a few extra explosives, four to six mini-sentry gun turrets, two GRM-260’s, some spare M-420 grenades, and ammunition to go around, we could hold out for forty five minutes to an hour max. Then, if possible, lead the horde on a merry goose chase on our tails while the rest high tail it back to the RP.”
“How do you expect to get out of the lobby?”
“That’s where the extra explosives come in. We’re going to use the service elevator, plant some C7 charges on one of the shaft’s walls a few hundred feet up, blow us a hole and hot drop back down to the ground. That’s were hopefully they’ll be dumb enough to follow us, instead of going the hundred miles up into space.”
“How much time do you need to set everything up?”
“15-20 minutes max?”
“Right…. Ok Hell-Divers get ready for your suicide run. As for the rest of you….”
Re: Fall of Vallock
Yes, I included some Russian into this, have to thank a friend for translating the stuff for me...
----
Onboard CSS Fermi
Day: 21
“Wait here, the commander will be with you shortly.”
“Yes, of course, I guarantee that he will be most…gracious…over what I have to say.”
Pleased on the other hand, now that’s a whole different ballpark.
Sitting rather nonchalantly in a rather luxurious chair, one that was previously used by the now deceased CEO of Horizon, Alan Kharne waited patiently for the Blatnoi commander to arrive. As the chief financial officer, the forty-five year old was well adept at reading as well as predicting the alterations in a multitude of situations; a talent that had served him well over the years. A shame it had to be wasted on such simple minded men however. He thought, sneering over the fact that his fellow associates were off cowering in a corner in some other room. Of course, it didn’t really matter in the long run; they would all soon be dead in the upcoming weeks if things went according to plan.
When the Blatnoi commander had finally entered the room, Alan casually straightened out his tie, a discrepancy in his appearance which he did not notice until now. As he waited for the disgruntled insurgent to take a seat, the middle aged business man found it hard not to laugh at the man’s predicament. It was, after all, a wasted effort by the revolutionary to stop the plans that his fellow colleagues within The Preservers and he had so carefully arranged in over the last two years. Can’t let the cat out of the bag too early, I do want to see the fruit of our labors now. Alan thought, mentally kicking himself for almost spilling the beans.
“You said you had information regarding The Preservers, Mr. Kharne?”
“Why yes I believe I do, and I think you find this most rewarding.”
“Spill it.”
Leaning in ever so closer, the scheming businessman couldn’t help but smile towards his unsuspecting quarry. The joyful expression however, failed to reach his eyes, and it gave the manipulative entrepreneur a rather inhuman appearance by all accounts. Despite the heat in the room being set at a comfortable 67 degrees, a chill could be felt by the occupants.
“The truth of the matter is, you can’t stop us whatsoever.”
“What?!?”
“Did you think that by attacking Horizon’s headquarters, that you’d prevent our plans from proceeding? Horizon is but a mere front for our operations. It’s a resource to be used and discarded when its use has come to an end; just like you.”
Using the rebel’s surprise against him, Alan grabbed the unwitting pawn and deftly slipped a hidden needle into the man’s neck. As he held onto the leader’s mouth, the businessman slowly and skillfully injected the poisonous contents into his victim. While the Blatnoi commander quietly died at his feet, Alan Kharne, co-founder of The Preservers, chuckled darkly as the sounds of battle reached his ears. And the ignorant cavalry come to save the day.
---
Elsewhere
Oh….shit….these fuckers can run!
Running for his life, Specialist John Varl couldn’t help but curse his luck. Having literally turned the base of the space elevator into a killing field for just over half an hour, the exhausted engineer had found himself cut off from his squad. Now, into his third hour of running practically nonstop, the Endasimarian was at his limits.
“RUN BRUVA RUN!”
Well, almost at his limits, if it wasn’t for the fact that his partner in crime was still alive right next to him. Where the hell does he get all this energy?! He thought, frantically running up a fire escape as a group of nosalises chased after them. Turning briefly to fire off a few more shots, John hoped that the other two Hell-Divers were faring a lot better than Leanders and himself were at the moment. Racing further up the fire escape, the combat engineer began to wonder why exactly his fellow soldier had stopped running. That was until he noticed the rather large gap between nearest building to the one that the pair was on.
Scanning outwards, the two soldiers looked for a better landing spot in hopes of extending their escape for just a bit longer without putting their lives into even more risk than they already were. Their search however was soon cut short, for a trio of hungry and persistent predators soon joined them. Shit, I can believe we’re actually going to do this; these jetpacks have to be burning on nothing but fumes by now. He thought, nodding quickly to his brother in arms. Taking a running start, the two Endasimarians jumped off the building.
It was a leap of faith for the pair; for it wasn’t until they were halfway done with their free-fall did the thrusters finally kick in. Using up the last remnants of fuel within their jetpacks, the two combat engineers were propelled to safety as their pursuant plunged to their deaths. As the distance to the building closed rapidly, the duo did their best to change their trajectory, causing them to crash headlong into a set of windows six stories above ground level.
“Lee…that was awesome….Let’s never do that again.”
“Agreed….Hey look…lizard people!”
“Did you bring the barbeque sauce this time?”
“Duuuuuhhhh…How else are we gonna feast on their hearts to gain their power?"
Taking a few seconds to catch his breath, John took his time and slowly rose up, hoping that the local house sitters would not get startled and do something stupid after seeing two fully armored men break into their hiding spot. It was quite possibly one of the smarter decisions he made today, for when he was able to see his fellow occupants, the fear in their eyes became quite visible. Just our luck, they had to be Draconi too, John thought, knowing full well how uncontrollable the draconian race’s young could be when frightened.
Wait…..Draconi….Draconian…..I see what you did there….clever bastard.
“Вы один из людей Horizon?”
“Uhhh, what?”
“Спрошу вас еще раз, вы из Horizon?"
“Hey, Lee, how much of the Ruskranian Trade Language do you speak?” John whispered, hoping that his friend had a better understanding than he did.
“Not a damn word.”
“Shit, guess I’m going to have to wing it then….Уххх, мы являемся членами 8-й тяжелой бригады, Endasimarian Shock. Как давно вы погружались... Я имею в виду, как давно вы живете здесь? Тут не должно быть ... никого ... Как вы попали в прошлое кар ...кар .... эээ .... АХ! карантин?"
"С самого начала, люди Horizon сказали, что они помогут нам, но они обманули нас и держали нас здесь взаперти. Наш сосед внизу пытался бороться с ними, но они закололи его чем-то".
"Закололи? Чем? Книг ... эээ ножом?"
"Какими-то иглами ... Прежде, чем он изменился, он был в состоянии захватить одного из них .... Вы нам поможете?"
"Да, конечно, мы убьем Вас"
"Убьете!?!?”
"Черт я имел в виду поможем! Я имел в виду помощь! Просто дайте нам убедиться, что путь свободен, а затем следуйте за нами .... хорошо?"
"Oк".
Well that went better than I thought it would. Thank you for all those lessons Terp. He thought, surprised that he was able to hold a conversation in a different language for that long. Motioning silently towards his fellow Endasimarian, the two cautiously stepped outside of the room, wary of anymore surprises that came their way. As the pair approached the stairway, which had been previously barricaded to prevent unwanted visitors from coming in the normal routes, the young combat engineers came across a scene which could be best described as something that came out of an action or horror movie.
Across the entire downstairs floor, were the scattered remains of wrecked furniture, cast about in such a way that it was as if a tornado had came through. Despite the lack of bullet holes or plasma burns, it was clear to the seasoned troopers that the previous tenant had put up quite a fight to protect those above him. Such a fact was made even more prevalent when the two found the deceased bodies of both the so called Horizon assailant as well as the former neighbor.
Although the two held a tactful amount of respect for the poor soul, both specialists couldn’t resist the temptations. It was as if the situation demanded it, and the more they refused the sight before them, the harder it was for them to not burst out it laughter. After all that the two combat engineers had gone through, the universe had to at least let this one slide.
“It’s a Cephodian.”
“And it’s still fresh.”
“…..”
“…”
“Niiiiiii-san.”
“….”
“Niiiiiiii-san!”
Oh to hell with it.
“What is it Lee-chan?”
“Nii-san…your tentacles are sooo kawaii desuuuuu~”
“You classy son of a bitch; let’s do a quick EPW search on both of them, see what we can find.”
Having gotten it out of his system, John knelt beside the two corpses, separating slimy tentacles from rigid limbs whenever he had to. Once the bodies were broken apart, he cautiously patted down each of them, starting with the Cephodian first. Finding nothing on the squid-like creature’s remains, the specialist moved on to the next. Any hopes of having similar results were quickly dashed however, as he soon found a still active data-pad in the man’s jacket. Cursing quietly to himself as he read the contents that he could access, John waved to his fellow Endasimarian, letting him know that their trip back to safety might be delayed. Vinnerman will want to see this. Hopefully it’s not above his pay grade as well.
----
Onboard CSS Fermi
Day: 21
“Wait here, the commander will be with you shortly.”
“Yes, of course, I guarantee that he will be most…gracious…over what I have to say.”
Pleased on the other hand, now that’s a whole different ballpark.
Sitting rather nonchalantly in a rather luxurious chair, one that was previously used by the now deceased CEO of Horizon, Alan Kharne waited patiently for the Blatnoi commander to arrive. As the chief financial officer, the forty-five year old was well adept at reading as well as predicting the alterations in a multitude of situations; a talent that had served him well over the years. A shame it had to be wasted on such simple minded men however. He thought, sneering over the fact that his fellow associates were off cowering in a corner in some other room. Of course, it didn’t really matter in the long run; they would all soon be dead in the upcoming weeks if things went according to plan.
When the Blatnoi commander had finally entered the room, Alan casually straightened out his tie, a discrepancy in his appearance which he did not notice until now. As he waited for the disgruntled insurgent to take a seat, the middle aged business man found it hard not to laugh at the man’s predicament. It was, after all, a wasted effort by the revolutionary to stop the plans that his fellow colleagues within The Preservers and he had so carefully arranged in over the last two years. Can’t let the cat out of the bag too early, I do want to see the fruit of our labors now. Alan thought, mentally kicking himself for almost spilling the beans.
“You said you had information regarding The Preservers, Mr. Kharne?”
“Why yes I believe I do, and I think you find this most rewarding.”
“Spill it.”
Leaning in ever so closer, the scheming businessman couldn’t help but smile towards his unsuspecting quarry. The joyful expression however, failed to reach his eyes, and it gave the manipulative entrepreneur a rather inhuman appearance by all accounts. Despite the heat in the room being set at a comfortable 67 degrees, a chill could be felt by the occupants.
“The truth of the matter is, you can’t stop us whatsoever.”
“What?!?”
“Did you think that by attacking Horizon’s headquarters, that you’d prevent our plans from proceeding? Horizon is but a mere front for our operations. It’s a resource to be used and discarded when its use has come to an end; just like you.”
Using the rebel’s surprise against him, Alan grabbed the unwitting pawn and deftly slipped a hidden needle into the man’s neck. As he held onto the leader’s mouth, the businessman slowly and skillfully injected the poisonous contents into his victim. While the Blatnoi commander quietly died at his feet, Alan Kharne, co-founder of The Preservers, chuckled darkly as the sounds of battle reached his ears. And the ignorant cavalry come to save the day.
---
Elsewhere
Oh….shit….these fuckers can run!
Running for his life, Specialist John Varl couldn’t help but curse his luck. Having literally turned the base of the space elevator into a killing field for just over half an hour, the exhausted engineer had found himself cut off from his squad. Now, into his third hour of running practically nonstop, the Endasimarian was at his limits.
“RUN BRUVA RUN!”
Well, almost at his limits, if it wasn’t for the fact that his partner in crime was still alive right next to him. Where the hell does he get all this energy?! He thought, frantically running up a fire escape as a group of nosalises chased after them. Turning briefly to fire off a few more shots, John hoped that the other two Hell-Divers were faring a lot better than Leanders and himself were at the moment. Racing further up the fire escape, the combat engineer began to wonder why exactly his fellow soldier had stopped running. That was until he noticed the rather large gap between nearest building to the one that the pair was on.
Scanning outwards, the two soldiers looked for a better landing spot in hopes of extending their escape for just a bit longer without putting their lives into even more risk than they already were. Their search however was soon cut short, for a trio of hungry and persistent predators soon joined them. Shit, I can believe we’re actually going to do this; these jetpacks have to be burning on nothing but fumes by now. He thought, nodding quickly to his brother in arms. Taking a running start, the two Endasimarians jumped off the building.
It was a leap of faith for the pair; for it wasn’t until they were halfway done with their free-fall did the thrusters finally kick in. Using up the last remnants of fuel within their jetpacks, the two combat engineers were propelled to safety as their pursuant plunged to their deaths. As the distance to the building closed rapidly, the duo did their best to change their trajectory, causing them to crash headlong into a set of windows six stories above ground level.
“Lee…that was awesome….Let’s never do that again.”
“Agreed….Hey look…lizard people!”
“Did you bring the barbeque sauce this time?”
“Duuuuuhhhh…How else are we gonna feast on their hearts to gain their power?"
Taking a few seconds to catch his breath, John took his time and slowly rose up, hoping that the local house sitters would not get startled and do something stupid after seeing two fully armored men break into their hiding spot. It was quite possibly one of the smarter decisions he made today, for when he was able to see his fellow occupants, the fear in their eyes became quite visible. Just our luck, they had to be Draconi too, John thought, knowing full well how uncontrollable the draconian race’s young could be when frightened.
Wait…..Draconi….Draconian…..I see what you did there….clever bastard.
“Вы один из людей Horizon?”
“Uhhh, what?”
“Спрошу вас еще раз, вы из Horizon?"
“Hey, Lee, how much of the Ruskranian Trade Language do you speak?” John whispered, hoping that his friend had a better understanding than he did.
“Not a damn word.”
“Shit, guess I’m going to have to wing it then….Уххх, мы являемся членами 8-й тяжелой бригады, Endasimarian Shock. Как давно вы погружались... Я имею в виду, как давно вы живете здесь? Тут не должно быть ... никого ... Как вы попали в прошлое кар ...кар .... эээ .... АХ! карантин?"
"С самого начала, люди Horizon сказали, что они помогут нам, но они обманули нас и держали нас здесь взаперти. Наш сосед внизу пытался бороться с ними, но они закололи его чем-то".
"Закололи? Чем? Книг ... эээ ножом?"
"Какими-то иглами ... Прежде, чем он изменился, он был в состоянии захватить одного из них .... Вы нам поможете?"
"Да, конечно, мы убьем Вас"
"Убьете!?!?”
"Черт я имел в виду поможем! Я имел в виду помощь! Просто дайте нам убедиться, что путь свободен, а затем следуйте за нами .... хорошо?"
"Oк".
Well that went better than I thought it would. Thank you for all those lessons Terp. He thought, surprised that he was able to hold a conversation in a different language for that long. Motioning silently towards his fellow Endasimarian, the two cautiously stepped outside of the room, wary of anymore surprises that came their way. As the pair approached the stairway, which had been previously barricaded to prevent unwanted visitors from coming in the normal routes, the young combat engineers came across a scene which could be best described as something that came out of an action or horror movie.
Across the entire downstairs floor, were the scattered remains of wrecked furniture, cast about in such a way that it was as if a tornado had came through. Despite the lack of bullet holes or plasma burns, it was clear to the seasoned troopers that the previous tenant had put up quite a fight to protect those above him. Such a fact was made even more prevalent when the two found the deceased bodies of both the so called Horizon assailant as well as the former neighbor.
Although the two held a tactful amount of respect for the poor soul, both specialists couldn’t resist the temptations. It was as if the situation demanded it, and the more they refused the sight before them, the harder it was for them to not burst out it laughter. After all that the two combat engineers had gone through, the universe had to at least let this one slide.
“It’s a Cephodian.”
“And it’s still fresh.”
“…..”
“…”
“Niiiiiii-san.”
“….”
“Niiiiiiii-san!”
Oh to hell with it.
“What is it Lee-chan?”
“Nii-san…your tentacles are sooo kawaii desuuuuu~”
“You classy son of a bitch; let’s do a quick EPW search on both of them, see what we can find.”
Having gotten it out of his system, John knelt beside the two corpses, separating slimy tentacles from rigid limbs whenever he had to. Once the bodies were broken apart, he cautiously patted down each of them, starting with the Cephodian first. Finding nothing on the squid-like creature’s remains, the specialist moved on to the next. Any hopes of having similar results were quickly dashed however, as he soon found a still active data-pad in the man’s jacket. Cursing quietly to himself as he read the contents that he could access, John waved to his fellow Endasimarian, letting him know that their trip back to safety might be delayed. Vinnerman will want to see this. Hopefully it’s not above his pay grade as well.