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The Landlubbers' RP
"Operation complete, egress to LZ now."

'Well that was nice and neat' Saber Lead thought to himself. He and the three other assault transport/bombers of had been running race tracks well away from the target area for almost ten minutes, which was nine minutes more than any of them liked. He looked over at the command feed that showed the locations of the Sickle, Dasher and Hammer elements and the destruction they had just caused. He widened the field of view, "uh oh."

"Target still active regroup on my location"

'Ah crap. OK Taccomp plot the least time approach to LZ as action one.' the tactical computer cheerfully acknowledged and a small one in a box showed up on Saber Leads helmet mounted display.

"Saber, Chariot over."

"Chariot, Saber go."

"Hammer's mission is compromised. Stand by for mission change. Confirm your package is ready."

Saber Lead called up his weapons page. The two 2000lb HV missile icon burned green. Another series of button showed that Saber Two had two good missiles as well.

"Saber Flight has four in the green."

"Roger, continue to hold at the IP. Dasher remains primary support to Hammer operations. Be prepared for alternate extraction. Standby for possible contact from Hammer on 134.0.

"Saber copies all." Well this is going brown fast he thought. He relayed his orders to the rest of his flight and then looked out to admire the silver of the clouds below in the night sky. A pleasant tone told him a text message had arrived. He brought it up on the left multifunction display and read the recommendations from Chariot to Hammer.

"Control, aye, acknowledge target not destroyed, press the attack with all available ordnance. Dasher Five Niner abort rendevous plan - Hammer and Sickles require direct close air support!"

'Oh man this is really brown' Saber Lead thought absently tugging the already tight harness rig absently. 'At least Dasher is down their in the mud with them. He and his flight hopefully would only have to zoom and boom, make big smoking holes and RTB.

"Saber Flight, loose duce, thirty seperate no change to mission"

"2", "3", "4" all of the other aircraft acknowledged his call for the two sections to loosen up and put thirty kilometers between them.

"Dasher Five Nine, Request Dust Off, over."

Saber Lead could feel the silence through the radio. It was getting ugly quick.

"Fast movers inbound, unknown type, bearing 120 at 10 Miles."

Saber Lead's head snapped around at the same time as he wrenched the big aircraft vertical. He did not even hear the protest of the crewchief in the back of the aircraft.

"Saber Three's in. multiple bandits 210 for 70 cleared hot?"

The red diamonds on his display burned even though the enemy aircraft were invisible at over 130 kilometers from his aircraft. He continued to pull vertically in order to get a high perch over the fight.

"Saber Three tac lead. cleared hot..." before he could continue the four flashes of long range missiles arching out and up from Saber three and four where clear against the night sky. "Saber flight set and engage." He did not wait for their response "Chariot, Saber is engaging." 'Twelve bandits, how the flying frack did that happen!" Saber Lead really hoped he survived this fight cause he wanted to get home and meet Chariot... and put a boot up his shiney officer a$$.

As he pulled through and rolled out the red diamonds started turning to triagles. With a slight squeeze he let his missiles go. THUNK, THUNK. The two missiles instantly polarized the canopy for a split second. 'Well we will do what we can but the ground boys are royally fracked, cause the bad guys are gonna blow through them before our missiles arrive. Hope Dasher got some magic tonight.' With that thought Saber Lead pushed the twin throttles past the gate into maxium combat power.
Kain's eyes traced over the windows of his HUD waiting for a one of the tell tail signs that he had isolated the enemy channels. A second latter one of the boxes turned a bright green and a chime sounded.

Then eminations were coming on on the right vector and the strength was about right for burning through the ball of ECM that he had set up. There was a secondary single coming back but he could give a general area. But at least it was a lead to their target.

Then a second window chimed. It had finally tagged the incription used by the enemy. It would be their comm chatter only until they gave enought code away for their secure link back to the HQ, but that still might give them the edge against these Stealth choppers.

"All Sickles, Sickle 5, stand by for bust"

he dropped a com relay to handel the burst and then took a running jump into the next skyscrapper.
(( OOC: Yasotay, we're pulling out ASAP, see second RP post of mine for the day - I'm not sure how I'll manage recovering the operation conventionally through established plans, so I decided to use some RL inspiration for a fast in/fast out counter-screwup affair... consider Valhalla and Chariot different bases of operations, the latter is a ground base ))

"Get him!" The NCO hollered to Sickle 3, as the chemical rockets on his suit boosted him straight towards the angelic visage of the enemy Republican Guard unit, which backed up in a long loping jump on its dual turbines in an attempt to counter S-3's flanking maneuver.

Abhijit hoped that Three had enough common sense to keep up with the situation, because it was all the support he had right now. There was no time to direct S-3, much less to think, as Hammer and the RG unit exchanged short range weapon fire at point blank range. Sparks flew in all directions as electro-reactive concussion armour shrugged off the impacts of the low-velocity submachine gun rounds, but here and there the small slugs found external unprotected devices and weaknesses in the suits' armour that they could damage.

Half of the Guard suit's still deployed port airfoil was neatly hacked off and the Kassi NCO's port waist mounted grenade launcher exploded in a flash, driving shrapnel deep into the thinly armoured flank of the weapon system.

The gunnery duel lasted all of a second as the Master Sergeant let his ton weight suit slam chest-first into the enemy suit, knocking it into the ground as a second burst of jump-jets awarded him enough speed for his wings to come into play. Flying no more than a foot off the ground, he employed the row of trees emplaced between the two sections of street as cover as he sought to close with the downed presidential transport.

Dismissing the sea of yellows and reds which was his master caution display, he weaved past a pair of tour buses which had collided into each other at the start of the firefight, their escaping passengers milling around in a panic. He found himself staring at a teenage male plainly gawking at the sight of hi-tech powered armours fighting before him, into his wide-open eyes filled with fascination which transformed into fear as the ton weight, jet-black weapon of war flew through the poor child, whose body was simply disintegrated across the suit's shoulders as it blazed past at over a hundred kilometres per hour.

Obviously trying to minimise possible civilian casualties, the downed hovercraft held its fire. Using this opportunity, Abhijit had transformed his suit back into land combat mode barely ten meters from it, and bathed its entire rear hull with the surviving starboard waist single-shot grenade launcher array before emptying what was left of the right forearm SMG's 150 round magazine into the now-blazing hulk.

"Hammer to all units, target destroyed. Sickle units, break contact and regroup for EVAC."
Edited by TelQuessir on 10-06-2006 06:23
((OOC: Here comes the cavalry ))

Location: Former Ravinder ABF (Air Battle Force) airship Brazen Impiety, callsign Valhalla, 200 kilometres SE of New Chennai at terrain following altitude

Colonel Kalya raised a brow at Hammer's report of mission completion, and wondered if a combat recovery operation to get them back was worth the risk. They were after all, expendable personnel sent on a suicide mission. While just about the entire active Ravinder military was thrown into disarray as the turncoat Kassi units struck at key bases and ambushed deployed forces, it seemed that the Combined Services were not ill-prepared for such a scenario.

New Chennai's airspace was now completely locked down and any conventional airborne attempt to retrieve the Hammer and Sickles team would be fraught with failure. If Kalya had full will on the planning of this operation, none of the Insurgents' precious airborne assets would be deployed to support the assassins. But as such, some smart-ass of a probably male excuse of a air operations planning officer had sent a flight of strike fighters and a dropship to whisk the ambush squad out of Dodge, and timed them to rendevous immediately after the conduct of the ambush.

It was a plan that was perfect for any action movie, but in this real world it meant sending the rescue forces right into a brewing hornet's nest. Airborne interception was not the only issue - as the capital of the Republic, New Chennai probably was home to a whole air defense division complete with surface to orbit lasers that will disintegrate any hostile-designated aircraft within line of sight. Kalya wasn't the only one who wished to put a boot up the backside of whomever had planned this sorry excuse of an airborne raid - tying down the resources of a 5,000 ton aviacarrier in picking up the pieces of an already screwed up operation deprived her the chance to employ her vast arsenal in the offensive.

To think that the Insurgency would fall apart at the seams right from the onset from the lack of a decisive central authority - if those little boys would kindly get their act together, one can actually be created...

"Valhalla to Chariot, your situation FUBAR, recommend all units egress bullseye south east on mission complete. Valhalla is a Class 5 Alpha Charlie, inbound bullseye at speed 500, angels two, please respond."
Edited by TelQuessir on 10-06-2006 06:46
::MN-3325 AFT-G::




:Infiltrate Planetary Air Defenses: COMPLETE

:Identify Hostile Leader: COMPLETE

:Verify Hostile Leader Status: PENDING

:Identify Unknown Strike Force: COMPLETE

:Neutralize All Hostile Air Assets: PENDING

:Neutralize All Hostile Ground Assets: CANCELLED

:Egress To Command Ship: PENDING


:5xArmed Bipedal Ground Vehicles:

:4xAtmospheric Dropship:

:1xAtmospheric Carrier:

:1xCivilian Maglev Vehicle:

:2xVertical Airscrew Attack Vehicles:

:12xAir Defence Batteries:

:6xSurface To Air Missile Launchers/Static:










Kiiki saw the unidentified aircraft turn around and move in the opposite direction. They moved very quickly and began climbing above the city. "Somethin's not right here, Eyes could you please give me a scan on those unknowns? Thermal, Electrical, and Radiation." But the response was drown out by a hailstorm of PC40 rounds from a stealth helo which drained most of Kiiki's concussion shielding before she blew the aircraft in two with her AC20.

Kiiki moved to a small ridge to get a shot on the remaining helocopter which was circling a multistory carpark. She fired a burst to take out the final helocopter, but missed and gave away her position. The helo would have been dead meat had Kiiki not run out of ammo at that exact moment. The helo blasted Kiiki with an anti tank rocket, knocking her into the air. Oh Damn it... Kiiki yelled as she hit the ground.
((Yasotay: OOC, My bad, Saber is off 160, below))

"Valhalla to Chariot, your situation FUBAR, recommend all units egress bullseye south east on mission complete. Valhalla is a Class 5 Alpha Charlie, inbound bullseye at speed 500, angels two, please respond."

Saber Lead ran through every explitive he could think of. 'FUBAR! Lady you don't know the half of it.' he thought as he continued to close on the aircraft over the city.

"Valhalla, Chariot acknowledged." Saber lead heard it and did not wait.

"Saber three four, abort buster 160 off bullseye, angels low Tango Foxtrot, Saber lead conver."

"Three copies all." the strained voice of Saber three came over the head sets.

The enemy aircraft had split up into groups with half of them pressing on toward Saber flight while the others appeared to be maneuvering to work over the city. Some quick math by Saber lead told him three and four would get away clean. With any luck the BVR missiles now arching over toward the still pressing enemy would keep them busy enough to let him and two make their exit as well. With any luck the arrival of a Class five aircraft would really change their interest.

"Two, set for Tango Fox, Tango Alpha, lets get out of here." with that he rolled the aircraft over and pointed the nose toward the southeast, dumping two decoys as he went. He reached over to the right display and pushed a series of buttons.

"Saber on Guard, Valhalla Saber flight is buster bullseye 90, 160 off bullseye, angels twenty for angels low, Mike Charlie, Saber on Guard."

He had not heard anything from Chariot and was not waiting. With a Class 5 inbound his four birds were nothing but a nusence for the big ships crew. As his aircraft wipped through the cloud layer the TacComp turned the ground below into day with sensors data. The two blue diamonds of Saber three and four had already begun winding their way through the valleys below.

"Alert missiles inbound, alert missiles inbound." the calm female voice of the TacComp said with calmly. Saber Lead went through the liteney of explitives again as his figers flew across the displays.

"Countermeasures active, sequence set." the calm voice intoned.

"Saber two set Tango Fox to hard, repeat hard."


"Chief if you are not strapped in five seconds you will be jelly." Saber yelled not really thinking that the crew chief in the hold was also wearing a helmet .

"Sir I'm in tight, just get us the frack out'ta here."

'You got that right.' Saber Lead said to himself as he tugged again on the now almost cutting restraining straps across his shoulders.

Thunk , thunk, thunk, thunk. The stacatto of the deploying countermeasures almost did not register with the pilot who was to busy trying to keep from blacking out as the aircraft began a bone crushing nine g pull out. With the terrain following, terrain avoidance set to 'hard' the still supersonic jets would do their best to stay at 200 feet, bashing the crews of the two aircraft mecilessly with crushing and jolting pitch changes. Still considering the other option was a very high probability of eating an enemy missile...

Saber Lead looked at the cronometer and then saw that Saber two was still with him. The enemy missiles had not reached them, and hopefully the appearance of 'Valhalla' had given the enemy a bigger problem to contend with. A bigger problem in more ways than one.

The four black arrowhead shaped aircraft roared off to the southeast, leaving nothing but the chittering of awakened forest animals in their impressive wake.
Mako didn't, in actualit, need any visual confirmation. He knew the helo was on its way down when its signature blinked out. He smiled to himself. Several stealth helos remained, but at the rate they were blinking out (at least the one's he had registered), Mako naturally assumed they posed no threat.

Such a terrible mistake.

A pair, noticing his presence, released a barrage of missiles at him moments later. The detection system blared to life, and Mako was momentarily bewildered. He cursed himself; he didn't release his countermeasures. Instead, he turned, hard, hoping to shake off most of them.

One hit. ... Two. ... ... ... Three. Four.

A couple too many, Mako thought bitterly. Such a careless mistake! He cursed again, under his breath of course. Seeking to obliterate his error, both physically and mentally, he positioned himself for an attack run. Yet before he could target either of them, they disappeared from his sensors. He cursed again. Scanning visually, he found them hanging low, near a nondescript building. One, two, four, six trails of smoke hung briefly as unguided missiles lunged forward. One struck a little below where the rotor was attached to the body. It impacted the ground with a satisfying crash. The other had its rotor intact. Except that the bottom was blown clear off. It flew, still, but with no pilot it rammed into the side of a building that populated the city. The rest impacted various sections of the street and nearby buildings. Satisfied, though a little concerned about the excessive destruction, he glanced at his sensors for further targets.

"Dasher Five Nine, Request Dust Off, over." What? Mako wondered if he had missed something. Dust off? What about the objectives?

This meant one of two things: the operation had taken a turn for the worse (which was the current status beforehand anyways), or Mako had gone deaf. Mako didn't think he was going deaf; he was particularly sure he never heard "objectives complete" or any equivalent response. Although he wasn't harboring any hopes of success, he didn't think the operation would end like this!

"Fast movers inbound, unknown type, bearing 120 at 10 Miles." Shit. Mako was conflicted. If he went to snatch up the Sickles, they'd all surely go out in a barrage of missiles and gunfire. Yet if he engaged them, well... he'd go out in a barrage of missile and gunfire. The thought of getting shot down never really entered his mind, though.

"Hammer to all units, target destroyed. Sickle units, break contact and regroup for EVAC." The thoughts of engagement were banished; how relieved he felt! Contacts lit up his screen, helos. Stragglers. They were no longer roaming in groups, instead they were spread thin, engaging whatever they could. Mako wondered why they gave away their positions, surely they knew he was present with capable weaponry...

He looked at his sensors again. The unknown contacts were approaching, though still very distant. A thought entered his mind. Diversion? They know they can't stand out against us; they're stalling! He felt a slight tinge of panic, but more confident; he knew their plans. He took off for the landing zone.
Edited by Inert on 13-06-2006 06:17
Faintly lit by lines of neon blue, the vast artificial cavern appeared desolate save for the gentle hum of machinery somewhere below the metallic sheen of its floor. It appeared mostly empty with the exception of vast titanium girders that supported its gently curving walls and roof like the skeleton of some extinct dinosaur.

Three rows of the neon markers ran down the centre of the three hundred metre complex while at regular intervals they were joined by shorter lines that branched out perpendicularly like ribs only to end in ominous darkness.

In this respect the cavern seemed to be divided into two portions, judging from the difference in interval between the otherworldly display of the "ribs".

Where the "ribs" were spaced widely there was a flurry of sudden activity; a white point of light suddenly bloomed and flashed for a couple of seconds before moving across the cavern as though it had a mind of its own. Travelling along one of the neon ribs at what seemed to be breakneck speed, it came to a stop and after a brief delay as though in thought, changed its colour to a deep red signalling danger.

It now moved slowly towards the three lines that represented the "spine" of the skeleton, tenderly carrying a huge burden that obscured a large part of the neon markers that the phantom-like visage glided over.

The "rib" curved towards the "spine" and merged and the phantom appeared to execute a graceful two-point turn to reverse down the length of the spine, which was finally revealed in its entirety as a mighty roar filled the expanse of the cavern that out of the blue, appeared extremely cramped and chaotic as greyish light filtered in from a crack at one end of the cavern that rapidly grew into a gaping maw open to the brewing storm and 700 kilometre per hour gale outside.

Armies of machinery lay dormant around the deadly shapes of low-observable war machines that, with the exception of the dropship now being made ready for launch, appear to lie in hibernation awaiting commands from an unseen marshal. The reversing phantom, its swept-wing sihouette now visible, unfurled its airfoils like an assassin sweeping out his cloak as four-bladed rotors folded out of its wingtip mounted engines. These appeared to rotate in contrarotating precision for a couple of revolutions before folding back in, following which the wings, canards and stabilisers of the black monster seemed to pivot this way and that for a while before finally coming to rest.

Halfway down the runway that in conventional sense faced the wrong direction - what aircraft took off backwards? - the mighty noise of the aviacarrier's octuple battery of giant super-turbofan engines was joined by the whine of two more much smaller turbines, barely noticeable under the giants' roar. The dropship's primary airfoils swept back to their transonic configuration at 45 degrees while the engine pods, combustion chambers glowing a similar blue to the hangar's neon markers, themselves angled to match the wing sweep of the parent aircraft.

Without another thought, the Mule that had provided external power to the phantom and towed it to launch position sent the dropship hurtling out the back of the cavern that rapidly barrel rolled out of sight into the grey gloom of the storm clouds, airfoils flexing like the wings of some gigantic birds of prey.

A moment later, six much smaller black-clad craft followed the dropship out of the great half-kilometre shape of the aviacarrier Brazen Impiety, deploying in pairs on the two auxiliary rails flanking the heavy-craft runway. All seven aircraft seemed not to bother with landing gears, and their activation and launch sequences were all handled with mechanical precision - they were unmanned aircraft tailored for operations from highly automated supercarriers of the sky.

Colonel Kalya folded her arms idly as she watched the flotilla of high tech warplanes on the aviacarrier's bridge supercockpit display that spanned most of the fore part of its domed ceiling. Set deep in the belly of the titanium and carbon nanotube beast, the compact complex that managed the affairs of the massive flying carrier was far more similar to the CIC of a space warship than the cockpit of a large aircraft.

Like a flock of birds, the six drone fighters had formed up behind their equally automated package leader in a close inverted V formation intended to exploit the benefits of cruising in each other's wingtip vortexes.

After a rapid burst of tight-beam communications registered on the supercockpit display as a positive mission progress update, all seven aircraft rapidly accelerated on afterburners to Mach 2 following which their powerplants transformed to ramjet configuration in an invisible, tightly choreographed ballet of reconfiguring engine parts accompanied by relevant wing sweeps and camber altering actions of their mission-adaptive surfaces.

"Saber, Valhalla, be advised, you have six EFM plus one Dasher, at your 12 low, eighty Ks, callsign Whiskey, speed Mike two point five, passing."

A brief pause, as Kalya questions the competency of the bomb-hauling jocks out of what is an obviously screwed up landlocked air base.

"Saber, Valhalla, stand by for redeployment tasking - vector 180 and descend to angels two, slow, cold and blind. Comply or be destroyed. Acknowledge with weapon/fuel status."
Edited by TelQuessir on 13-06-2006 13:36
In reply, the Master Sergeant broke off, flightpak jets igniting and carrying the NCO to safety behind a building, where Kel'ron promptly lost sight of him. Tracers followed, but either missed or were shed by the still functioning ACS system. This brought Kel'ron back to his current predicament.

His own flightpak depleted to almost nothing, Kel'ron lay down a flurry of suppressive PSMG fire while his LR-PC cannon dropped itself into firing position. Plasma bolts flew into the white EW suit, causing the energy defense field to sheen with incandescent green light as it briefly overloaded. A high-pitched static whine filled Kel'ron's headset a moment later. Jamming.

The enemy suit had begun to return fire, and 20mm autocannon rounds began to impact around and on his own suit. The concussion field bleeped a warning and then failed, and the lightweight rounds began chewing away his leg and torso armor. The soldier in the white suit wasn't really aiming, which told the sniper that he had buddies coming. Perfect. Kel'ron finally reached cover, his armor quite the worse for wear but still okay. He came around the mag junction powerbox that sped along groundcars and fired the LR-PC. The EW suit, having his energy field down without a chance for reboot, misplaced a large portion of lightly armored helmet. Glad to know the suit's aim correction is still working, thought Kel'ron as he dove back into cover. The EW suit's friends had arrived - two unit were engaging him, the distinctively different munition impacting the junction box and the area around in large amounts. Kel'ron, in the meantime, jump-activated his own suit and launched himself into a third-story office building window, just ahead of the heavy 40mm autocannon and the 30mm spent-uranium slug that tore its way into the floor supports above his head and kept going. There was a sniper down there, a sniper who liked the older style of battlefield sniping - put a bullet to the enemy's head at range, silenced, and then disappear, for a headshot with that kind of slug, . That kind of sniper was much more effective at killing other snipers than Kel'ron's own grunt-killer tactics were, which meant that Kel'ron was in serious trouble. He was willing to bet that the sniper down there knew it, too.

Kel'ron used his suit's enhanced hydros to jump through the hole in the ceiling that the slug had caused, which attracted another ranged burst of 40 mm autocannon fire from the close quarters grunt outside that was ultimately wasted. He waited for the shot from the sniper..........nothing? Meant he was repositioning, using the grunt to pin Kel'ron down as long as possible while he did so. That also meant that trying to kill the grunt would only get Kel'ron sniped from afar, as the sniper would not leave his buddy coverless.

In the lull, Kel'ron heard a third flightpak fly overhead and continue on. Must be the guy going after the NCO, he though bitterly. With the EW suit killed but the jammer itself still operative, there was nothing Kel'ron could do to warn him...
"...We sank a truck!" - Commander Sherman, Operation Petticoat
((OOC: Very nice post. Now we wait for the infernal dropship to arrive, or I shall send in Valhalla's! ))
OOC: rather short; you guys are supposed to be regrouping damn it. Smile

His sensors denoted more ground contacts as he flew overhead. He wondered if, by chance, there won't be any units left this time; what he'd do then? Well, saving his own ass was the first priority of course. Mako didn't feel any sudden loyalty to the Sickles; they knew what they were getting into. He himself didn't sign up for this suicide mission.

"You guys better be moving your asses to the LZ or there won't be nothing left when you get there." Mako chimed over the comm. systems. He was frustrated that they weren't there; couldn't they listen to god damn orders? He was pretty sure "regroup for EVAC" meant get the hell out of there. Mako tried to calm down.

It didn't work.

For good measure he flipped on the chain-gun turret. It was automatically controlled; he would be too busy half the time flying anyways. After a brief warm-up period, the chain-gun spewed rounds at anything near-by. He pleasantly witnessed the destruction of a few ground contacts; how they ran! Like insects they are. He saw a group of them clustered ahead, surrounding a building. Wincing slightly at the excess damage, Mako watched as the chain-gun opened up on them in a hail of gunfire. They jumped into the building for cover, he guessed, and the gun followed suit. The ship was moving at a moderate speed, enough to spend 5 seconds mowing down the entire group before passing. Not sure he had hit anything, but no matter; not his business, though he was sure he hit one particular flying over the building. No wonder these guys drop like flies.

The rest of the two minute journey consisted of the chain-gun firing madly at various ground and air contacts, those various ground and air contacts disappearing from his sensors, and a very satisfying feeling. By the time he reached the LZ, he was in a better mood. Of course, he didn't have to show it.

"If none of you show up in 15 seconds, then I wish you all a happy death here." He turned off the chain gun and watched his sensors warily. He didn't know when a stealth helo might decide to go for an immobilized dropship, but he'll be damn ready when it does.








(EDIT: Sorry for the half assed post but I am building a pool deck so I am short on time at the moment)
Edited by Ironwatsas on 22-06-2006 03:18
Like the Gods' timing, the NCO mused, crouching as the tilt-jet attack transport roared angrily overhead, the blast from its exhausts and lift fans literally blowing the streets clear.

Obviously peeved at the lack of coordination between the ground team and their ride out, the Dasher 5-9 had homed in on the Hammer command suit's position via the still-functional microwave tactical datanet the squadron had deployed.

Between Sickle 3's counter-sniper maneuvers and the dropship's automated IR-guided onboard weaponry, the immediate area seemed momentarily clear.

Thus, Dasher's anxiety expressed over the radio was all too natural as he brought his big ship into the tight confines of a four-lane motorway flanked on both sides by monolithic skyscrapers filled with civilians either watching the spectacle outside, or more naturally, cowering within their confines.

Abhijit bounded across the ten meters between the corner of a service structure and the welcoming maw of the dropship's No. 1 powersuit bay door just as an errand mortar shell burst at the precise location he was at just a moment before.

The next second, his battered suit was mechanically locked to the aircraft while the armoured door slid shut, shielding him at last from the battlefield outside. He knew, of course that his relative safety would be for naught if the ship failed to lift off, a possibility all too obvious in the present "Hot LZ" situation.

But despite the unnerving clatter of small arms fire and shrapnel against her armoured hull, and amid the sharp retorts of the ship's 30mm autocannons, Dasher 5-9 lifted off into the night sky and engaging the thermoptic stealth system as soon as practically possible, transitioned her powerplants and airframe for transonic flight and headed in the general vector of Valhalla at terrain following altitude.

With the prospect of the craft having sustained unregistered battle damage, 5-9's pilot was wise to remain below the sound barrier.

"Five-Nine, Valhalla, how many did you get?" The tone of the interrogative voice a hundred klicks distant indicated that wasn't a query, but Master Sergeant Abhijit, patched into the aircraft's communications systems, didn't care, for soldiers who failed to follow orders and perished as a result can only blame themselves for their early trip to Hell.

Suit sensors registering the cabin pressurisation, he released his suit visor to breathe in the hot, oil-stained air in the suit bay, which was infinitely better than what the exoskeleton delivered after a long spell in full NBC protection.
OOC: If this post uses things that are outside of the operational (and some not-so operation, in fact jury-rigged in a number of myriad ways Grin)capabilities of an ALICE commando suit, tell me over PM and I'll fix it, as asking Tel to give me full design specs

Several seconds and a smouldering, red-hot LR-PC barrel due to the large holes Kel'ron kept blasting through the floors of the empty office building, and subsequently leaping through, later, he was on the roof in a shadowed niche. This was one of eight such niches arranged around a radio tower in the center of the building's roof. Each niche held part of the radio's operating equipment, and as such the central tower had access to each from the inside of the main spire itself. This gave Kel'ron all he needed for his insidious and not-quiote foolproof plan to work.

He remembered the geometry of the area with some clarity. There were only a few buildings around tall enough to place a shot into one of these niches, and the enemy sniper would have gone to one of those in order to get the widest possible field of view on the building Kel'ron was holed up in. A good indicator of which building would be the gunner, still on street level - the sniper would be giving him top cover and sitreps on Kel'ron's position, while the gunner below would cover everything alongside the building and around it, based on the sniper's directions. There was a good chance the sniper could not see him now, and at those distances active radar was only truly good for a position fix; this would naturally hurt the enemy sniper more than Kel'ron as it would tell the latter from where to expect the shot, but tell the former only that his target remained trapped in the building. With this in mind, the sniper's active radar was off, in order to cloak his prescence to Kel'ron. This meant that not only would he not see Kel'ron's own active radar ping out in time to move, but that the only thing Kel'ron would detect would be the 'hot' gunner below, and would tell him the general field of fire to expect the shot from.

There were preparations to make first, though. While his barrel was still hot, Kel'ron used the suit's augmented strength to first rip the self contained energy-draining probe off his right arm, wires still attached, and hold it in his left. Then he punched the needles through the barrel, turned the probe on. Using the suit's advanced self-electronic interface, he redirected the probe to recharge his rebooted-but-still-drained anti-concussion system upon the retrieval of energy. He then disengaged all the safety interlocks on the device. That done, Kel'ron pinged his active radar to check the position of the gunner below. No movement - that was good. Means that the sniper likely hadn't moved either.

He finally asked the interface to do something it was never designed to do - tie in the active radar (which was in fact a decent sensor suite that could detect a variety of EM emissions, waves of several kinds and even some forms of radiation) to his LR-PC's trigger, to fire upon the detection of an intense burst of light. It took several more seconds, but the suit finally reported readiness.

Bracing himself and covering his head with his left arm, the one holding the energy probe, Kel'ron stepped out into the open, on the side of the building more or less facing the gunner. He braced himself...

Muzzle flash! The sensors on his suit sent a signal to the trigger of his LR-PC, which fired instantly, a weak beam of light that was drained of perhaps half its energy before the probe's needles slagged, merely a fourth of a second before the shell arrived. The concussion field overloaded with power, and fried - but not before it drained itself repulsing the heavy shell, which hit his arm like a sledgehammer anyway and broke it instantly, pushing it limply back into and cracking his face helmet as well as ripping the now-useless probe out of his barrel, but ultimately bounced off. Kel'ron gasped in pain involuntarily, but the sheer will to survive allowed him to sight the heat signature that now appeared on his HUD. Gritting his teeth, Kel'ron sighted the heat signature that now appeared on his HUD and fired a second time, empting his sniper weapon at the enemy, who did not have time to reposition. The shot clawed into the enemy suit's torso and tracked downward for a bit, (as Kel'ron sagged from the excruicating pain of having his forearm bones powdered, waiting desperately on the stimpaks that would numb the injury) missing the flightpak and removing the lower half of the enemy's body.

After an eternity that lasted a few seconds, Kel'ron calmed down, the stimpaks deadening the pain receptors around his useless left arm. He heard for the first time the sound of a hovering dropship...Dasher 5-9? It must have showed up to pick the NCO out of the fracas that the mission had become. It was not moving at the moment, but that would change quickly - dropships never stayed in one place for very long. Kel'ron broke for the roof and leaped, only igniting his flightpak in the apex of his jump to save fuel. Fire came from below, as the gunner noticed his exhaust and responded accordingly. The flightpak carried him to the rooftop where the dead sniper lay, and he promptly switched his empty flightpak for the nearly-full one of his foe. The gunner below had begun to activate his own flightpak, but Kel'ron popped the releases for his LR-PC and shed the heavy gun, complete with a backstop charge for just such an occasion. He also ripped out and dropped the energy probe, as well as two of the four twenty kilogram PSMG recharge packs. He leaped into the air again, and ignited the new flightpak, firing the PSMG at the pursuer, who weaved around them and returned fire with his own cannons. However, Kel'ron was much lighter at this point than the close-quarters soldier behind him, and ran the throttle to full. He couldn't catch the dropship, but he could at least follow it to the rendevouz and dustoff point.

The enemy units were far behind, and what little active radar remained scanned the air for targets. Perhaps the getaway was not as clean as he thought - there was a 40mm shell lodged in the middle of his active sensor array, and he could clearly see a thin drip of hydralic fluid leaking from his left leg, as well as blood. The stimpak fluid coursing through his veins had numbed all sensation, and Kel'ron silently prayed to whatever gods were up there that the stims would hold out until he reached a proper medical facility. Dropping all his remaining ammunition, he pressed the flightpak (which was the current standard in marine flightpak ops, compared to the lighter basic grunt pak he chose instead) a little harder as he flew on, not bothering to fly evasive. He now had nothing left to shoot with anyway.

With little else to do, Kel'ron admired the city lights just over a kilometer beneath him.
"...We sank a truck!" - Commander Sherman, Operation Petticoat
((A couple of notes - emitting anything = you giving away your position. An enemy unit doesn't need to activate its interrogatory devices in order to receive emissions from other active sensors - so just like activating an aircraft's radar to see what's ahead, an enemy will know your presence 2-3 times further than your detection range.

Extraction for the Sickle team is out of the question if you three don't band together and secure a VHF communications device to signal Hammer, 5-9 and Valhalla with. Trying to escape alone = easy target. Enemy forces in this sector are not toys to shoot up - they are active RP characters in another story.

Lastly on tactical notes, it doesn't mean that you have no offensive weaponry that you fly straight and level 1km in the sky, which makes you a perfect target for surface to air lasers and missiles. Infact, straight and level at any time in any combat situation invites death. Flying things with no IFF = enemy object and the virtue of being over everyone else attracts fire from any small arms within two kilometres.

I will not risk additional dropships in picking up individual suits or risk a CSAR (combat search and rescue) mission, not with enemy surface to air laser installations active and absolutely not when my characters receive zero communications input from you. ))
Edited by TelQuessir on 23-06-2006 09:00
Sickle 2 was laying on the ground leaking hydralic fluid. All of it's power systems were fried and it was full of gaping holes.
Kiiki Mahiil stared into a tunnel of light that opened before her and completely forgot who or where she was. The tunnel ahead of her opened and she was somewhere surrounded by a sort of fog, obscuring her vision. Then she felt pain. She heard something growling, and felt a prescance. first behind her, than all around. It felt ominous. It felt hungry. And it felt near.

"Sickle 2, Sickle 2, Status update over." Kiiki heard a voice over the radio. "Sickle 2 come in over." The voice sounded farmiliar, And yet far off. "Someone, extract Sickle 2 and move to LZ over. Kiiki's mind raced "Who are they? Why are they here? Are they my friends? Do they want to help or do they want to kill? Are they the ones who caused this pain?" Kiiki paused for a moment grasping this final idea "...Or will they sate my hunger?"

Sickle 2 was surrounded by infantry and a small powersuit. They were about to open the hatch when the Sickle 2 lept forward and began ripping apart the infantry one by one with it's bare hands. The enemy mecha began firing, but was abrubtly stopped when Sickle 2 ripped it's 'head' off and stabbed it and it's pilot.

"Sickle 2, Sickle 2! Dear Sajuuk What is she doing?!" Kiiki heard the voice but found no comfort in it. She was almost laughing as she disembowled the enemy infantry one by one. She felt her adreniline flow as she began tossing any object she could find into the mass of fleeing soldiers. When finally she destroyed them all, she let a smile run across her face. And looked for more prey.

"WHAT THE HELL IS SHE DOING?! She is'nt showing any regard for military doctrane or even her own life! Is she insane?" Kiiki looked up at the dropship above her. She knew it looked farmiliar but could'nt decide wether to protect it or destroy it. "System overheat, primary motor failure, emergancy shutdown engaged" Kiiki suddenly found she could not move. She tried to force the metal shell around her to move but failed every time. Then she felt something clamp on to her and pick her up. "Sickle 2 is heavily damaged and immobile, pilot status unknown" then another voice said "I want to have a talk with Ms Mahiil the minuite she's capable" The voices felt as though they were closing in on her. She was becomming faint and weak and her pain was beginning to consume her. She let out a loud, Feral growl and passed out.
((Who's talking to you Iron? And you know I'm not allowed to extract now.))
Yeah I kinda wrote myself into a corner at the end there.

As for who's talking to me, that's for someone else to decide.
Edited by Ironwatsas on 23-06-2006 23:08
"Saber, Valhalla, stand by for redeployment tasking - vector 180 and descend to angels two, slow, cold and blind. Comply or be destroyed. Acknowledge with weapon/fuel status."

?What the ?.., this is getting worse by the moment.? Saber Lead thought as his aircraft bounced him hard as it went through the vortex of Saber Three as he caught up to the two aircraft that had led them out. ?First the idiots launch us with minimal briefing, no idea of who we are supporting and now a frakin? class 5 ready to smoke my flight and giving me orders.?

?Saber led, four what is going on?? The nervousness in the young pilots voice came through clearly.

?Four Standby!? he had no time to deal with his nervous trail pilot. What could have caused command to screw up a mission like this so badly? Sending four precious assault transport -bombers out with little or no brief, to support a special op without anything other than a few common frequencies. Could the op be that compartmentalized? He knew Valhalla was on their side, he had even reviewed debriefings from some of their missions, now it was threatening to blast them out of existence.

?Laser tracking, laser tracking two o?clock.? The same calm female voice politely told him the class five had locked them with laser. ?Radar tracking, radar tracking, two o?clock.? And it was getting worse.


The flight was getting understandably nervous by the turn of events. Lead made his decision.

?Knock it off! Maintain loose formation, turning 180 and climbing to 2000. You are all to remain passive.? With a flick of his right thumb he switched to the command common frequency, ?Valhalla, Saber copies all. Saber execute.? With that he pulled the nose of the bomber up into a shallow climb while throttling the engines to minimum cruise setting. A quick glance out the canopy showed him that the canards and wings were programming forward for the slow cruise configuration. Out in the distance he could see the small glimmer of Saber 2?s cockpit lighting through the enhanced vision visor.

None of this did anything to sooth the growing anger that was flooding the pilots mind. He switched his communications to the single channel discreet low power that would let him talk to his crews without ease dropping, it only worked over a two mile area. ?Saber Flight? gents this is really fraked up, we are going to comply with Valhalla, that is a Class five airship not something to triffle with??

?Lead they have us locked up! That is not what you do to people on your side!?

?Three, I know, but that is where we are at. So we will comply. But I want you all to set your weapons, all of them, to passive laser track aggressive maneuver. Keep your bays closed. I will command launch them if that bitch so much as pisses at us. You will all punch out and go to the alternate RV point. We need to make sure we save one dart for that a-hole ?Chariot?.? He checked the mission computer to see what the fuel state was then pushed the rocker switch back to the common command frequency.

?Chariot, Saber switching to Valhalla, break, Valhalla, Saber Flight has eight 2 kilo, hotel victor mikes, six alpha romeo mike and six remaining alpha alpha mike. Saber is bingo plus 30.?

He really hoped that Valhalla caught the anger in his voice. He harbored no illusions about escaping a Class five airship if it elected to kill them, but he was not going to let any of the command types kill him without a protest. At least him crews would have a chance. If they decided to blast them with beams, his flight would have about five seconds to eject from the aircraft as the airships targeting systems increased the gain of its targeting systems before firing. At least that is what he read in the tactical manual. If doubted he could launch all the weapons and punch out in time.

"You guys better be moving your asses to the LZ or there won't be nothing left when you get there."
Lead heard the strain in Dasher?s voice and the clatter of his chain gun going off in the background. "If none of you show up in 15 seconds, then I wish you all a happy death here." He looked up at the slate-grey overcast that was just above him and sighed, ?This is so FUBAR, Dasher is in so bad he is gonna ditch the mud monkies.? He shook his head that was Dasher?s problem; he focused on the mission computer waiting for either instructions from Valhalla or weapons.
Edited by yasotay on 24-06-2006 16:11
(( The present RP situation doesn't give any future prospects except for shooting at each other. Add that to my newfound RL commitments which I love.

I have a second RP plot for PDS, here, which is related to this one but will be far more structured, with weekly updates. It will take place on a Vagyr-captured Arbiter cruiser sailing to the Ravinder system on a mercenary contract (Visaya grants Crusader groups access to Ravinder fuel sources in return for deterrence vs Kassi invasion).

There is a huge difference for this plot vice conventional military sci-fi as we've done so far - for this one really belongs to the mystery genre.

However renegades like Ironwatsas will not be welcome based on the potential of him just doing his own thing and expecting to be pampered with "personal attention" in return for screwing up the plot mechanics. You had your chance - if you want to attention-whore then earn it with constructive contribution.

Let me know if the rest of you are interested to pursue this.
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