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Project Warfighter - Operation Necropolis (IC, Open@OOC)

A staging-point for declarations of war and other major diplomatic events. [In character]
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New Emmerian Coalition
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Ex-Nation

Project Warfighter - Operation Necropolis (IC, Open@OOC)

Postby New Emmerian Coalition » Tue Oct 21, 2014 1:38 pm

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Union City, International Territory - 24 Hours since First Infection

"We're all screwed!" ... "C'mon man... we can make it right?!" ... "You tellin' me this is the fukken end?!" ... "Oh god, they're eating him! They're eating him!" ... "...though I walk through the valley of death, I shall fear no evil..."

Civilians scattered across the streets, some huddled over bodies of deceased loved ones, some fighting back with makeshift weapons, and some simply cowering in fear. The sounds of helicopters filled the air, as members of the Bioterrorism Security Assessment Alliance repelled down into the streets, engaging in fierce combat with the legion of dead. While heavily outnumbered, the BSAA agents where able to quickly dispatch hordes of the undead, ending their suffering with well placed headshots; the only way to truly kill one of them.

"Alpha One to Alpha Two, Coalition Rangers have landed and are moving out to reinforce your position." The BSAA Commander chattered through the radio. "Move to Route Five, and hold position until you are reinforced. We need to stop the infection here!"

As more, larger helicopters swooped in from the skyline, groups of BSAA and Coalition Rangers repelled into the fray. The infected were growing exponentially at the minute, and the BSAA struggled to contain the area.

"We're getting a message out to every garrison in the area; so far, only the ESS Revelation has responded." The BSAA Commander stopped for a moment, gathering his breath, "ETA One hour before they arrive, they're experiencing problems with local refugees, their channels are becoming fainter by the second."

"You heard the man!" Called Locke, an Emmerian BSAA Operative as he called to his squad. He quickly slammed the door of his Hummvee, and grabbed hold of the 50. attached to it. "We've got an hour 'til whatever miracle reinforcement aboard the Revelation gets here, lock and load!" He surveyed the undead as the horde moved closer to his position. At the intersection, they had little contact with other BSAA forces across the city. But they had to maintain their position. When reinforcements arrived, their chances of halting the infection at this city would be doubled, tripled even.

E.S.S. Revelations - En Route

The security teams rushed down the panicked corridor of the carrier. Already, through their thick helmets and communications gear, they could hear panic and screams coming from the med-bay. One of the refugees that was brought aboard had shown qualities similar to some odd form of human rabies - but only ten minutes after he was brought into the med bay, he attacked two of the five restraining guards, and a plethora of civilian nurses. They began showing the same signs only a minute after being attacked - the report given had noted that the initial infected personnel acted feral, tearing their victims apart with their jaws. The medical personnel had begun attacking the uninfected, tearing away at some and turning others to the viral disease. As security made their way into the area, they were greeted by a whole crew of undead. Having prior experience, or simply going off by what they knew from Hollywood, half of the squad aimed for the head of the infected, where as the other half relied on their training and concentrated on center mass, then the head. Due to this Squad's incohesiveness, they were quickly over powered, and too turned to undead.

The automated security system onboard sprung to action, firing non lethal rounds and shockwaves towards the undead, running rampant down the corridors and attacking any who stood in their way. As per protocol, large metallic doors closed off the section, cutting off the majority of the infected as they tried to escape. The ships' massive siren began blaring, with security and military personnel racing from any position they were at, to their nearest armory. The security measure only delayed the infected, as some had gotten out before the doors were closed. As corridor after corridor was closed, the captain of the Revelation sent out a distress beacon. The fleet in the area was sent into disarray however, most ships locking down as to stray from the plagued individuals and the likely fate of the Revelation. As the ship was locked down, various aircraft on deck shot off, as well as the last uninfected civilian crew. However, the ship was not lost. The Revelation is home to the premier Tier One Operations Task Force; Atlas. Earlier today, Atlas was reinforced with a large amount of more Special Operations Groups. The unfortunate side is that the teams were seperated across the ship. As Med Bay was locked down, the armory in the area was as well. The ship, as per quarantine measures, was denoted as three sections on the Captain's sophisticated command table. The midsection was all but locked down due to quarantine, but contained the majority of the necessary survival elements for the ship; Hydroponics, the main Armory, and the Medical Area. On the both non-locked sections, were smaller armories, and equipment rooms, and a supply area for back up rations and ammunition; though this wouldn't last for more than a week onboard the ship. The deck was easily secured by what was left of the security teams.

The BSAA presence aboard the Revelation was caught on the Right Side of the sectors, along with the Coalition STIGRU and the rest of Task Force Atlas, minus afew parties. Some of the group, however, was missing. They were last on the Left Sector when the quarantine took place, separated from the main group. As the infected broke down the quarantine more and more, it became obvious that soon, the ship would be infested. The members of the BSAA and Atlas aboard, rushed to their respective armories. They wouldn't have their ideal equipment, nor enough ammunition to clean the ship, so they'd have to work fast. The Misriah Corps was needed in Union City, as was Atlas itself. But now, they needed to clean up their own ship, before proceeding to deal with the larger threat. More time passed, as the city's skyline came into view. The timing was eerily awful. When the Revelation would make landfall; the quarantine would be broken. Some members of the Task Force had estimated that the time it would take the infected to take the ship after it crashed would be little more than 45 minutes. They had to work fast. The first quarantine was breached as the skyline came into view. Atlas was within the area of the breach; though there were plenty of civilians and standard military personnel who would be caught in the fray as well.

With little time, Atlas would have to fight off the infected, and manage to clear the ship and survive long enough to reach land, and for the remaining BSAA Operatives to reach the ship and assist with getting the reinforcements out alive. But as always... some plans are doomed to fail.

Lennox entered his passcode into the armory's large door, and eagerly awaited it to finally open up. When it did, he and other members of the Emmerian STIGRU team rushed in, grabbing their LBT 6094 Slicks and a chest rig of various ammunition and supply pouches. They made sure to wear protection, but keep their loadouts as light as possible. Lennox took some of the M8-R Assault Rifles off of the weapon racks, and passed them to the surrounding STIGRU members. He didn't know if the other Atlas personnel who were with the STIGRU on the Right Sector had their equipment stored here, but he knew there were enough LaRue OBRs and M8-Rs to go around should they need them. He tucked his standard issue Voodoo-hawk into his belt's holster, and attached a small pup-combat knife to his rig. Sliding a magazine into his .45, he looked at a group of Garrison Troopers as they rushed by, armed and ready to fight the undead as soon as they made it past the initial defense.

Pulling the charging handle back on his rifle, he looked to his fellow operators.

"Some of us aren't going to survive. This is a literal nightmare situation, but I'll be damned if I let these rotting corpses win! C'mon Atlas, we're going Zombie Hunting."
Last edited by New Emmerian Coalition on Tue Oct 21, 2014 1:39 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Nova Sylva
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New York Times Democracy

Postby Nova Sylva » Tue Oct 21, 2014 3:08 pm

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An NSR Ranger/SABR operative in full loadout.

NSR SABR [STRATEGIC ASSISTANCE BRIGADE] TEAM



The Pave Low shook as it flew through the air above the NEC Revelation. A thunderstorm from the rough oceans outside the port was making the trip rougher than expected, and for the first time in forever Staff Sergeant Pascal found it hard to sleep as the plane was rocked by the Category-2 winds from the storm.

They should have landed an hour ago – but for some reason the Revelation wasn’t responding. Pascal rubbed his eyes, stretched his fingers, and frowned when the thick knuckles he was wearing prevented him from accomplishing his task. Around him, his fellow NSR Rangers talked (or rather, screamed) over the roar of the storm outside, or checked their equipment for the umpteenth time. The Rangers were being deployed in a trio of the big Pave Lows – one for the men, and two for equipment. The third Pave Low had a MUTT (Manipular Utility Troop Transport) strapped underneath, although Pascal wouldn’t have been surprised if the humvee-like vehicle had been lost to the storm. To be frank, he was surprised they hadn’t been lost to the storm.

“Hey Pascal,” his best friend, and longtime compatriot, Master Sergeant Cole, said. The two Rangers were sitting right next to each other, closest to the rear hatch. “Did I tell you how I spent my last day on leave?”

“No, you haven’t,” Pascal replied. “I assume it had to do with some sortof sexual activity?”

“Damn straight!” Cole said, laughing out loud. “Look, I took this girl out for dinner, right? Some chick from Madrigal. She had the stupidest name, though. Ingrid. Can you believe that? I mean, who names their kid Ingrid? They must have been on Jet or something.”

“Madrigalian, you said? Yeah, I wouldn’t doubt it.” Pascal replied.

“Anyway, so this chick, Ingrid, I take her out to dinner. We went to this steakhouse in Uptown – cost me a goddamn fortune – and the food wasn’t even that great. I ordered a ribeye, well done, and what do they give me? Medium rare. Hell, it wasn’t even rare – I’ve seen cows more cooked than that get up and walk away! So we leave, and I’m driving home, and she tells me to recline my seat. I’m not really sure what to think, so I do – and she unzipped my pants, and went at it. And I’m gonna pull over, you know, and she’s like ‘No. Keep driving.’ So I’m driving down the highway, goin’ about ninety-five, while getting the best blowjob of my life. What a night!”

“Bullshit!” Pascal said. “There’s no way in hell. How could she fit her head between you and the wheel? Your full of crap, Cole!”

“No, I swear!” he said. “Look, put your hands up, like your driving.”

Pascal did, and Cole fit his head, sure enough, between the imaginery wheel and Pascal. “See?” he said. “Plenty of breathing room –“

“Ahem, Sergeants?”

The two looked up to see Lt. General Samantha Clarke. “General,” Pascal said, stuttering. “It’s not what it looks like. Sorry ma’am. We were just – uh, well...”

“Uh hu,” she said, amused. “Cole, not on the helicopter. And Pascal, keep it in your pants.”

“Yes ma’am,” they said.

“Now – we have more pressing matters to attend to than your rather vociferous sexuality statement.” The entire compartment laughed, all two dozen Rangers.

“The NEC Revelation is not responding to our hails,” she said. We did a flyby a few minutes ago – the ship is under lockdown, and there is some sort of battle going on within. We’re going in hot, Rangers. Check your gear, check your friend’s gear. What are we?”

“THE LAST THING YOU’LL NEVER SEE, SIR!” The men said. Though part of the newly formed Strategic Assistance Brigade, they reiterated their Ranger motto with pride as they stood and began loading weapons.

“We hit the deck in thirty seconds,” she said. “Get ready!”

Pascal slid on his Mk XI Integrated Combat Helmet, and watched as the HUD came to life. The small sattelite relay on the side of helmet extended, and the real-time data feed came into view, along with the FOF tags and Sneak Sight system. He checked Cole’s helmet, who stood in front of him, and made sure it was on correctly.“Cole, solid.” He said. He felt hands from behind snugging his helmet into place. “Pascal, solid!” One by one, the Rangers checked each others’ gear, finishing just in time for the landing.

The Pave Low hit the deck with an audible thud, and the Rangers spilled out, in full loadout. Reinforced trench coats, laced jackboots – the whole nine yards. Rain splashed on the deck as the Rangers made a defensive phalanx before moving towards the illuminated island of the carrier. Dead bodies lay on the tarmac, and Pascal stopped for a second for a com check and felt something grab his boot. He recoiled, naturally, and saw a legless man with no pupils hissing at him. What the fuck?! he thought, and smashed the head into the deck with his steel-toed boot. “The dead are moving!” he said through his helmet’s mic.

“Fuck yeah, they are! What the hell’s going on?!”

The Rangers formed a large circle around the three helicopters and aimed down the sights of their rifles. They used a variety of weapons, from Cole’s antique Sinclair rifle to the standard issue R91 semi-automatic. He had no sight on it – his helmet had magnification and thermal vision – though he had replaced the regular wooden stock and barrel guard with carbon fiber parts to decrease it’s weight.

He took a crouch and began firing, taking down his targets with carefully placed headshots. The intercom on the ship came to life. “You guys, on the deck – whoever the hell you are – we’re coming out! Don’t shoot!”

The main hatch swung open, and a dozen plus soldiers spilled out in full combat gear. They joined the fray, and like the SABRs, took down their targets with headshots. Their commanding officer ran towards the Rangers, sprinting into the defensive circle.

“I’m C.O. Lennox,” he said to Clarke, a discussion which Pascal overheard thanks to the enhanced noise filters in his helmet. “Coalition STIGRU.”

“Lt. General Samantha Clarke, NSR Strategic Assistance Brigade, or SABR. What’s going on here?”

“Damned if I know,” Lennox said. “What we do know is there is some sort of pandemic in Union City, that’s raising all these Ferals. It deteriorates the person’s cognition and reasoning skills. They seemed show symptoms of rabies, and become feral. Hence the name. Anyone that is bitten seems to turn, most within minutes.”

“Is the whole ship infected?”

“Most of it. The Mindsection is quarantined, but the bow and aft compartments are secure, for now. Once again, sorry for the rude welcome. The Revelation isn’t usually like this.”
Last edited by Nova Sylva on Fri Oct 24, 2014 1:28 pm, edited 2 times in total.
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The GAmeTopians
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Postby The GAmeTopians » Tue Oct 21, 2014 5:18 pm

The HellBent operatives onboard Revelation looted their stowed weapons from their quarters, donned their Dauntless armor, and rushed up to the deck.
"Colonel, we could really do with an explanation here. What the hell is going on?"
Colonel Altman looked over his shoulder as they ran.
"All we know is that there is this strange virus that turns people feral."
They reached a sealed blast door at the end of the corridor. Colonel Altman cursed and keyed up his radio.
"Lennox, we need this blast door up!"
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Servinta
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Ex-Nation

Postby Servinta » Tue Oct 21, 2014 7:00 pm

Somewhere in the mid-section of the E.S.S. Revelations


"Who the hell turned out the lights?" Vlad complained, the ceiling lights above him had suddenly cut out as he was wasting his time onboard by reading a wonderful self-help book 'Chugged not stirred' written by an apparent drunkard who, if Vlad was reading it right, had been through a nasty set of events caused by his addiction and was finally starting to give up vodka by switching to a lite beer.

The bright lights above him had went dead on page 145, leaving him and his book in almost total darkness.Thankfully the light returned in the form of a revolving red emergency signal and accompanying alarm klaxon that ruined the nights peace and quiet.Not having a clue what was going on, he proceeded to mark the page he had left off and stood from his desk.The bunk room was a cramped affair and considering that he was having to share it with his Seinor petty lascar, he was less than happy with the amount of personal space that had been invaded by his bunk mate who thankfully had left a while ago to see if the ships mess hall had anything edible in it.Now with the emergency alarm blaring he was forced from his reading and gathered his uniform together to avoid the odd stares the foreigners gave him whenever he went out in his boxer briefs and stripped tank top.He haphazardly threw on his uniform and clipped his heavy pistol holster onto his shoulder.

*BUMP*.....*BANG*.....*BUMP*..... A loud bumping and banging was emanating from outside his room and considering the moans that came with it was safe to assume that Urma was either injured or intoxicated, Vlad thought the latter would be the best bet on a boat.

"Urma is that you?" Vlad called out to the door as the banging continued.

"Drunken idiot, got into the Svodkin again didn't you." He said angrily as he walked to the bulkhead and twisted the doors lever to let the inebriated Urma inside, the less people saw the Servintan Kommando drunk the happier high command would bee with this missions public image.

He opened the door half expecting to find the enlisted man collapsed upon the floor with an empty glass bottle in his hands, but to his surprise the door swung open to reveal a small pool of liquid smeared upon the floor and outside of the bulkhead.At first he thought it was Urmas puke or maybe an odd beverage that he had managed to get wasted on.As he leaned down to inspect it he noticed a figure in his peripheral vision, it stood motionless and quiet along the wall as the red lights scanned over it, giving only quick glimpses of its form.

"Who are you?" Vlad asked as he stood up and shifted his hand over the handle of his service pistol, a hostile move maybe, but due to the fact emergency alarms were blaring about and this figure wasn't offering a handshake or greeting was not giving it the benefit of the doubt.

"I said ....." His words were cut short as the figure flew forward with inhuman speed and started to roar in an even more inhuman voice that made Vlad's blood curl in his veins.

It ran fast at him but it was no match for years of training on base instinct and combat expertise, he had pulled the pistol free from its holster in the second it had taken the figure to launch itself at him.The next second was spent aiming, a trivial thing considering that most Servintan weapons were focused on massed firepower and rate of fire than on accuracy but it was always nice to try and aim in the general direction of the enemy.The one after that was a simple reflex pull of the trigger, not a yank that would throw his aim off, just a light pull did the job.

The Barrel of the pistol spoke the language of fire and stopped the creature dead in its tracks as the small lead projectile tor through its forehead and out the back end with a satisfying amount of gore and brain matter following it.It fell silent and slumped to the floor mere inches from Vlads feet.He was curios to who would have the audacity to attack a 'Servintan Shark' so crudely, a quick kick to its shoulder flipped it over and facing up.

The men started to be roused from their slumbers and were already bursting out of their room doors that lined the hallway with their two barred rifles and pistols at the ready to fire on whoever was disturbing their precious sleep time.One or tow carried a high power flashlight and moved out of their rooms in nothing but their undergarments to where Vlad stood and his assailant lied, at first they were focused squarely on the man with the gun who to no ones surprise was the 'Sharks' own Officer in charge Fleet Kaptain Vlad.The thing that laid upon the floor at his feet was much harder to identify at first due to all the blood,scars and decay that covered its humanoid body, but as they all inspected it more closely the were able to see telltale signs of the creatures former allegiance.A grey shark tattoo could be barley seen in contrast to the grey skin around it on the left arm and the bloodstained rags it wore were terribly ripped remains of a Servintan Naval Infantry uniform.

"Its, It was Urma!" Vlad whispered aloud as he knelt down to inspect the remains of his former comrade that he had just shot.

"But it can't be, its some sort of thing from a monster movie." One of the men said as he moved the flashlight up and down the body to try and find some sort of answer in its remains.But the only answer was that Urma was transformed into some sort of traitorous beast by some unknown force, the though of becoming like that which lay before them was chilling everyone of them to the bone.Bite marks that had the greatest concentration of the disgusting grey were visible and oozing along Urmas leg and whatever had put them there had obviously not finished the job of devouring him.

"It is obvious what happened, he was bitten by a capitalist and turned into a dissident against his beloved home of Servinta." Commissar Bogdan said as he stepped forward among the group of Servinta's best commandos.Vlad knew it was grade A commissariat propaganda bullshit but he was still in shock from the act of killing his rabid comrade in arms that he had served two tours of duty with.Bogdan was the units resident political officer and was here with them to make sure that they didn't get any happy thoughts about capitalism or any other foreign ideas that they were being exposed to while serving with Atlas.Vlad was no scientist and therefore was not able to possibly explain what happened to Urma and disprove Bogdan's idiotic hypothesis about capitalism being 'infectious', but it was all they had to go on and the rest of the ship could be in Urma's condition, so for now he would roll with the 'dissident' classification.

"Whatever happened to him doesn't matter now, we have to get to the command center up top and find out what happening." Vlad ordered his seven men and commissar team.There were supposed to be ten in all but considering one of the missing three was dead on the floor he had to assume them lost to this 'capitalist infection'.The men stood at parade rest in an automatic response that had been grinned into their psyches whenever an order was given to them by a superior.The without a word they ran back to their bulkheads and began to dawn their combat gear, Vlad and Bogdan walked over to Vlads room where the commissar stood outside as Vlad got dressed in his own combat armor.

"Do you really think this is an 'infection of capitalist ideas' Bogdan?" Vlad asked as he pulled out his double barrel rifle and loaded the double magazines into the feed chambers.

"I do not know what this is, but false knowledge is better than no knowledge at all Sir." Bogdan replied from the viewpoint of a political officer who knew that the unknown was something that mankind feared greater than any weapon ever invented.

"Hppph, good to know you don't believe in your bullshit, shows that your heads in the game." Vlad gave the commissar a light complement as he strapped on his boots and bulletproof armor.The last thing he put on was the standard Servintan gas mask, he had guessed that this infection could be brought upon by a bite after citing the multiple teeth marks that had torn into Urma's legs but he had to take all precautions to protect himself and his men from this disease.

Vlad and his men assembled in the center of the hallway for roll call, as he counted it was revealed that only one man was still missing as the other was simply a heavy sleeper, how one sleeps through the sound of a gunshot fifteen feet away from where your sleeping was beyond Vlad but he was happy to know that the team was still relatively intact.They were all armed and ready with their weapons loaded and their fingers wrapped around the triggers tightly, apart from their uniform and armor the men were all wearing the gas masks to protect from the possibility of infectious fluids and gasses that could be running amok on the ship.Thought they carried much gear the fact that the armor and uniforms were custom made to fit the 13th Naval Kommandos combat style, a style that was based on naval training and shipboard actions, making their gear perfect for this environment.

Vlad counted them off one last time and with a flick of the wrist he silently signaled that he would be leading them up the hallway.

Their destination was topside, their enemies numbers unknown, their chances of survival doubted.

This all suited the Servintans just fine...
Last edited by Servinta on Tue Oct 21, 2014 8:00 pm, edited 2 times in total.

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Hurtful Thoughts
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Capitalist Paradise

Postby Hurtful Thoughts » Tue Oct 21, 2014 7:19 pm

Beta-team awoke the the noise of sirens and bulkhead doors slamming-shut, and screaming. They didn't even bother asking for intel as they leapt from their bunks and unholstered their weapons, the close-support team -led by Kayora- went out into the halls first.
Further behind, Foyt put a CD in the radio and cranked the volume.

[theme music]

As Kayora peeked into the hall, she saw a group of badly mauled runners, they saw and heard the group and began running. Kayora stepped-out into the hall and flicked-out her combat-shovel, defiantly staring down the tiny horde as the rest of her team popped out behind and began drilling bullets into them with their two 6.5mm pave-pointer pistols.

As they closed into a melee, Kayora swung first. Although she didn't look like much, all she'd ever known her entire life was how to fight, in order to defend those who cannot defend themselves. Hurtful Outcomes showed her what life on the outside was like, what wrongs could be made right, she just had to make sure to be there on time. She'd literally spent her entire childhood learning martial-arts, and it showed in how she moved with fluid, graceful precision; every movement either gave her a better fighting position as she steadily began chopping into them, drawing her own pistol more as an afterthought to keep them off of her when the shovel became lodged into an infected's skull to buy just enough time to kick it free with the head still attached. Another swing at an infected was a solid-enough surface for the blade to finish cutting the rest of the way through at though it were a block of wood.

To cover as the two others reloaded, Gibbons's and Foyt's teams engaged in hand-to-hand as well, as their firearms were still in lockup and were likely beyond several sealed bulkheads. The nearest armory only had common Emmerian armaments. Still, better than nothing.

Aside from one of the grenadiers getting a nasty gash on their hand, no casualties, no prisoners. Hurt 'em plenty.

MEANWHILE
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Last edited by Hurtful Thoughts on Tue Oct 21, 2014 8:20 pm, edited 2 times in total.
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New Emmerian Coalition
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Ex-Nation

Postby New Emmerian Coalition » Tue Oct 21, 2014 9:11 pm

OOC: Uhh, Lennox had no way of getting topside... also plz don't control other people's characters.

The Carrier deck, aside from the remaining helicopters shooting off into the distance, became silent after the Rangers had landed. As the ship locked down, the large elevators used to transport aircraft topside began moving upwards. Garrison Troopers broke down the door from the tower, and moved onto the deck, heavily disappointed by the lack of aircraft.

"Hey, you guys!" One of them shouted, "Get your asses below deck! We need backup!" He called, quickly cut off when tackled by a rampant corpse. The elevators had brought up a large group of the dead from the hangar area - where soldiers and crewmen were desperately fighting back a horde.The rest of the troopers opened fire with their M8-R rifles. Many of the undead fell, riddled with holes.

"C'mon, hurry your asses!" One of the panicked troopers called. "We can get you to right sector!!"

---

Santiago was first out into the corridor. Garcia and Lennox followed, in tandem. Lennox had his iDroid out.

"Alright, we're deep in the breach. We can make it if we move fast enough, the large metallic doors won't close for another... five minutes?" He looked at Santiago.

"Five is correct, sir, we're just outside the Left Sector. If we double time it, we'll make it there with time to spare." Santiago tapped his Solid Eye, and readjusted his LMG M8-R on his shoulder. Deep moaning and inhuman, nearly otherworldly screams came from further down the corridor. Those Garrison Troopers barely lasted a minute. Various figures appeared in the corridor, lit by the emergency lights.

"We better move!" Garcia shouted, firing a burst into the corridor and nailing two of the infected.

Swiftly, the squad began sprinting towards the second bulkhead. Intent on not getting sealed in, they didn't take a single moment to stop and catch their breath. They came to a large open area - a mess area. There were audible sounds of gunfire from behind the squad; some Garrison Troopers had survived, but perhaps for not much longer. Lennox took this time to pull his iDroid out, and check their route. The secondary Bulkheads were only another room away. The only problem? The infected were hot on their trail.

Santiago looked at Lennox.

"Sir...there's no way we can make it out without risking the entire ship." He said. "Well... not all of us atleast." He inserted a C-Mag into his M8-R. "I'll hold the bastards off, you guys make it out, and make sure you come back here and put me out of my misery when we hit land."

"Now's not the time for some sacrificial hero bullshit." Lennox snapped. "We need everyone thinking rationally." He began sweating as the gunfire was abruptly cut off.

"I AM thinking rationally. I know you're as good as dead if we try and make it out without clearing some of the bastards, and we don't have time for a pretty tower defense. You guys go, and help the rest of Atlas off this coffin." Santiago said.

"He's got a point. We're sitting ducks right now, and we have to make a decision." Garcia interrupted, "And quickly, they're headed our way."

Lennox hit the wall, and grunted. "You're a crazy son of a bitch, Santiago."

"Always was, sir." Santiago smiled, and handed Lennox his dog tags. "My ex doesn't get shit, by the way." He remarked.

Lennox nodded, took the tags, and tagged along with Garcia, already headed towards the Bulkhead. As they sprinted, they began hearing Santiago's machine gun bursts. They were smooth, controlled. As they moved closer, more Garrison personnel passed them. Maybe there was a chance for Santiago... but now was no time for hopeful circumstance. They had to link up with the rest of Atlas, to ensure as many as possible survived this nightmarish scenario. That, and they were hardly equipped to fight such a large force with such precison, nothing the Garrison Troopers could hope to achieve. Still, they bought time with their sacrifice. The bulkheads were beginning to close as Lennox and Garcia arrived, both leaping through and landing with a loud thud on the opposite side.

"We have to survive." Garica panted, barely catching his breath. "I don't want any of those sacrifices to go unnoticed."

"Damn right." Lennox stood, and took a moment to catch a breath of relief as he leaned against the steel bulkhead. He pulled his iDroid out once more, and set it to the ships normal frequency.

"This is Lt. William Lennox, of the Emmerian Naval STIGRU Unit, any force on this frequency, respond and give your location; STIGRU Personnel are onboard at..." He checked the map display, "...Right Sector. Any Atlas Personnel in Right Sector, please respond, give coordinates."

Garcia looked up.

"What if some got past the bulkhead?" He asked, still panting.

"Then we've got a fight on our hands, don't we?"
Current Location: Gone Rogue @ DZ02 Steeleport

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Drekka
Ambassador
 
Posts: 1290
Founded: Aug 03, 2011
Ex-Nation

Postby Drekka » Tue Oct 21, 2014 9:17 pm

(OOC: TG for CO-OP posts)

ESS Revelations, Right Sector, A Bit Too Close To Middle Sector
CISR SPECTRA, "Fireteam Charlie"

Equipped with mostly outdated-yet-proven equipment from their
aging Emergency Response Kits, Fireteam Charlie emerged from the security of their berthing compartments to Operate.
They swept through the abandoned corridors in a column formation,with Team Leader Carbon taking point with complete
noise discipline . Despite the lack of visual activity, the sounds heard were anything but. So they advanced through the ship,

Midway through a rather long corridor, nearby sounds of struggle could be heard very nearby, spooking Carbon somewhat.
Without a second thought ,Carbon raised a "L" with lis left arm, which was swiftly followed by him swinging his left arm completely
sideways out with authority that would have made any other helmet fly off.

Fireteam Charlie immediately dispersed into a defensive line formation, preparing for the worse. Out of muscle memory,
Carbon reached for his headset, which would not function for any other type, due to its proprietary coding and frequency , made
to maintain OPSEC during an emergency on a FSN-C vessel, The brick of a device beeped through his headset out of defiance.

"' Fkr'", Carbon whispered through his teeth.

Out of habit, he signaled Blink for her Comm device. seeing the Irony of the situation, Blink
laughed though her hazel eyes. To further add to the moment, raised to hand to suggest a cellphone, which was followed up by
her "offering" it to him. He glanced away, as he decided his next course of action. Seeing no other option, he
decided to break radio silence in sake of regrouping with the rest of Atlas.

"Fireteam Charlie En Route towards your general direction, do not engage." Carbon tactfully yelled

With the flick of Carbons wrist, the Team reverted back to their column formation,
advancing forward to the sounds.




Fireteam Charlie

Carbon Active
Image

-Team Leader

-MP5n-IDS

-P7m13

-M320 Grenade launcher

-SRK knife



Current Shared Equipment
-MSA PASGT-PIP helmet
-Navy Flak Jacket
-ProTec Full-Cut
-MSA MICH Headset
-Alpha Green APCUs Level 5
-Bates RAT boots
- 4x2 Oakley Assault Gloves
-IIFS vest
-20 30 round MP5 Magazines
-5 100 drum MP5 C-MAGs
-7 40mm HE muntions
-12 13 round P7m13 Magazines
-5 12 round Mk23 Magazines
-7 30 round G36 Magazines


Tetra Active
-Special Weapons
-MP5n-IDS
CCD Camera

-MK23
KAC .45 suppressor
CCD Camera

-SRK Knife

Ferret Active
-Rifleman
-MP5n-IDS
CCD Camera

-P7m13

-EMS medical bag (borrowed from ESS Revelations)

-Multi-Tool

-SRK Knife
BlinkActive
Rifleman
G36k-CQPR
-Enhanced 1/4x Dual Optic

P7m13

-SRK Knife
Last edited by Drekka on Wed Oct 22, 2014 2:00 pm, edited 4 times in total.

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The United Remnants of America
Post Marshal
 
Posts: 17165
Founded: Mar 09, 2013
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby The United Remnants of America » Wed Oct 22, 2014 6:50 am

Remnant Bunk Room
URA Sentinels, 1st Battalion, 3rd Special Operations Squad

"So... This is fun, isn't it, guys?"

Two voices spoke at once. "Shut the fuck up, Tarzan."

"Okay."

Koopa and Ninja weren't happy. The three of them were stuck in their small bunk room, unable to go outside. The heavy steel door had to be closed to keep them safe from what was going on outside, since they were unarmed, it was the best way to survive.

"You think Jolly'll come get us?"

Koopa glanced at Tarzan and sighed, "I suppose so. I mean, if he doesn't, we're going to die in this box, so I'd rather hope on it." A heavy bang reverberated off the room's door. "I hope he hurries the Hell up, though...."

Six Hours Ago, Crew Ready Room.

Captain Jack "Jolly" Rogers stood with his squad's operator, Ralph Peters. In front of them was a five-man team of Remnant Sentinels, the 4th Special Operations Squad. A group of rookies who'd just graduated a new training program.

Jolly stepped forward. Alright. I want a roll call, please.

The first soldier, a young woman, a little girl to Jolly, stepped forward and saluted. She was maybe six inches shorter than Jolly and had long brown hair. "Captain Jacquelin 'Pollock' Kowalksi, sir. Squad Leader." The next, a tall, athletic-looking blonde kid stepped forward. "2nd Lieutenant Orley 'Kraut' Stein, sir. Grenadier." The third in line, an olive-skinned soldier with black hair and dark eyes saluted and smiled, "Chief Petty Officer Tony 'Guido' Masconi. Sharpshooter. The last of the fighting team stepped forward, a relatively skinny black man with short cropped hair and glasses took a step out, "Zachary 'Oreo' Jones. Medic." At last, the fifth man, who looked similar to Peters, except with red hair and freckles saluted without stepping forward, "Zane 'Paddy' O'Malley, and I'm the Fourth Squad Operator."

Jolly smiled and looked at this new squad of comrades, all between the ages of 21 and 24, little kids compared to his 38 or Koopa's 35. "Welcome aboard the New Emmerian Ship Revelation, kids. This will be your new home with Task Force Atlas, where you'll be working alongside me and my squad. Here, you'll learn what it means to get down and dirty and to get some real fighting under your shoulders. Is that Understood, kids?" The entire 4th Squad nodded and saluted, "Sir, yes sir!"

....
Current Time

Screaming was everywhere. Blood, limbs, dropped personal items. All scattered about. In this area of the ship, the lighting had gone out and was replaced with the red emergency lights.

"Keep your fucking spacing tight. If you stray behind, you die. Understood?"

"Understood, sir." "Gotcha." "Yeah"

Jolly was armed with only his service pistol. His gear was stowed in the armory. Luckily, the four 4th Squad members with him had their full loadouts upon showing up earlier today. At least he was doing better than Peters or Paddy, who only had revolvers since they were Operators.

"Alright, turn the corner, Ralph, see what's over there. Team, stack up on me." The 4th Squad behind Jolly, Peters turned the corner and screamed. One was on him and pushing him against the opposite wall. "FUCK FUCK FUCK!" Peters fired three rounds into the zombies stomach. "NO, N- Ah, fuck!" In a half-second, Jolly grabbed the infected corpse around the shoulder and put his gun to the zombies head and pulled the trigger, scattering the zombie's brains into the ceiling. The body dropped to the floor and Peters stumbled forward, where Jolly caught him. "Hey, you okay...?" Peters stood up on his own and gave Jolly a scared look and held out his hand. Between his thumb and index finger was a deep gash. "Oh Jesus... I'm sorry, Ralph.." Jolly held up his pistol to Ralph's face. "Wait, wait! I'm fine, see? It was only my hand, it might take longer for me to change, right? I'm fine! Don't do this Jack!" Jolly stood still for a few seconds thinking before pulling the gun back down... "Dammit... But give one sign of turning on us, and I put you down, Peters. Understood?" Ralph gave a curt nod before picking up the revolver he dropped. Jolly looked back at the 4th Squad. "Alright, come on, kids... Let's go try and save my team first. Then we meet up with Lennox's group. Or whoever we can find..."
By any means necessary. Call me URA
Winner of 2015 Best of P2TM Awards: Best Roleplayer - War
"I would much rather be with you than against you, you're way too imaginative."- Cafla
"URA New Confucius 2015."- Organized States
"Congrats. You just won the second place prize for Not Giving a Fuck. First Place, of course, always goes to Furry."- New Jordslag
"He's an 8 Ball, DEN. You can't deal with an 8 Ball." - Empire of Donner land
"This Rp is flexible with science and so will you." - Tagali Federation
"Unfiltered, concentrated, possibly weaponized stupidity."
Thafoo, Leningrad Union: DEAT'd for your sins.
Discord: Here

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Congreveopia
Minister
 
Posts: 3434
Founded: Dec 09, 2013
Ex-Nation

Postby Congreveopia » Wed Oct 22, 2014 12:01 pm

The Platinum Soldiers were in the ship’s midsection. They were not having a good night.They were getting some exercise, though. John, who happened to be at the head of the group, rounded a corner, and saw the hallway up ahead was just as full of zombies as the hallway behind. Fortunately, there was another hallway branching off from the one they were in that would probably lead to a less infected part of the ship. They ran down the hallway. There was a security door in their way.

Leighton and Thomas were carrying fire axes. John and Charles were unarmed. Only Thomas had actually attacked one of the zombies so far, and its blood was still fresh on the axe’s blade. The zombie hadn’t seemed very inconvenienced by losing an arm. That was about a minute ago. it was also when they all took off running.

“Nexus, get this door open!” yelled Charles, panicking slightly “Those things are right behind us!”

“I’m busy.” said Nexus “The Secoritan Council has me, Ex-AI and LlamaPrime busy folding proteins trying to find a cure. And Fortress keeps pestering me about having to work the guns manually, and the navy… I mean these people complain so much when I tell them they have to do their job again because I’m busy-”

“I DIDN’T FLIPPING ASK HOW YOUR MORNING WAS GOING!” screamed Charles “Hack this door, or we are all going to die!”

“I don’t have nearly enough processing power to hack an Emmerian aircraft carrier.” said Nexus “I’m going to see if I can ask the ship nicely if… oops… hang on… No I can’t do that, not unless you give me five times as many servers and a fiber link… You’re in Antarctica! How can you be having a problem?… No, I’m sure Guardian is cle-”

“You’re replying to the wrong person.” said Charles, wishing he had a pistol or a knife or something.

“Yeah. Crap.” said Nexus “I ran out of RAM while handing you off to a different server. I need to tell the air force to avoid the big data lines during their bombing runs.”

Zombies were starting to shamble into their hallway. They were about eight meters from the door. Fortunately, none of these ones seemed to move very fast.

“What was it you wanted?” asked Nexus “I think I overwrote it just now.”

“THE DOOR!” screamed Charles. Leighton and Thomas had started to fight the horde, chopping at the zombies and gradually backing towards the door.

“Ah!” said Nexus “You’ll do. Can you remember this: nine-two-five-four-twelve-six. Thanks!”

“No.” said Charles “Nine-two-four-twelve… what?”

“Bang on the door three times.” said Nexus.

Charles banged on the door three times. “What was that supposed to do?” he asked. Leighton and Thomas were only a few feet away, and still slowly backing up.

The door opened. A terrified Emmerian crewman was standing on the other side near the door controls.

“Oh thank god.” the crewman said “I assumed that it was only zombies in there. Then that voice from my phone told me to open the door, I asked him to prove there weren’t zombies there…”

“There are still a lot of zombies in there!” said Charles, running through the open doorway and shoving the crewman away from the panel. He glanced back and saw John, Leighton, and finally Thomas dash through. He pressed what looked like a close button. It had no effect. He then took the scientific method and randomly pressed buttons as fast as he could. Some sort of “Wrong Password” message appeared, and the door slammed closed. The five collapsed in relief, panting for breath.

“Why are you tired?” asked Charles “You’re in one of the safe zones.”

“I’m not a soldier!” said the crewman “I’m a cook! If you were being attacked by deadly underdone quiches, then I’d be calm!”

“Fair enough.” said Charles, taking out his PCU and opening the Congreveopia Herald app. “I wonder what’s going on in the rest of the world. At least we’re safe now.”

Something peered around the corner at the group. Before any of them could react, it had lept at the crewman and buried its teeth in his arm. The Congreveopians leapt to their feet and Thomas chopped his axe into the zombie’s head with a satisfying *splutch* sound. The zombie collapsed to the ground. The crewman stared at the bite in panic.

“I…” he began “No… I don’t want to… AAA!”

He screamed in pain as Leighton brought his axe down. The inertia of the heavy blade carried it through the skin, muscles, bone, and back out the other side. The crewman’s arm dropped limply onto the floor while the crewman slumped onto the ground, screaming in unimaginable pain.

“We’ll send a medic your way if we can.” said Leighton over the crewman’s sobs “Right now we need to find our gear and the rest of Task Force Atlas.”

The squad made their way into the left sector of the ship. Charles tried to contact any of the other squads on his PCU, while Leighton called out if anyone was around.
"Close air support covereth a multitude of sins." - Maxim 4

Congreveopia is an advanced MT nation, managed by the artificial superintelligence known as "Nexus". It is very active in global affairs, and loves manipulating nations to steer the future of the world.
Links:
Equator Confederation wrote:Congreveopia has spoken. Do it now.
Vancon wrote:Enter Cong, the smartest of our bunch.
The United Remnants of America wrote:Except for Cong, whom I'm now decently sure is a superhuman being we should probably be worshipping.

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New Emmerian Coalition
Ambassador
 
Posts: 1793
Founded: Mar 07, 2011
Ex-Nation

Postby New Emmerian Coalition » Wed Oct 22, 2014 2:18 pm

"Alright guys, ready?" A scared, but courageous Garrison Trooper called to his Squad. "Bastards are breaking out, and Atlas hasn't done shit! It's up to us!" He slapped a magazine into his M8-R. He was met by a loud "HOO-AH!"

"Let's kick some ass!" He shouted, getting through the bulkhead, and raising his rifle in unison with his squad. Undead pushed through one another as they charged their position. The Troopers, readied to face the zombies, opened fire, aiming for the head and dropping infected after infected. They split up, two groups moving down the hallway in unison.

"This is Noble Two, we're in the Quarantined Area!" One of the troopers called over his radio, the bulkhead sealing behind them. They moved forward. They fired non stop, dropping each infected with extreme prejudice. They made it midway through the hallway before halting, some troopers dropping their magazines and loading fresh ones while others covered, then they would reload. More groans erupted from further down the corridor. There was a common room up ahead; it was sealed but they figured they'd be able to get to it. They charged forward, firing in unison and creating a wall of fire. Their plan was flawed, however, as soon, their guns let out the dreaded 'click.' ONe of the troopers fumbled, dropping a magazine. Not thinking, he dove, trying to grab it when he was sent flying into a wall. An infected sat over him, tearing at his torso, above his body armor. Bullets riddled its arms, none had hit a headshot. More sprinted past the jumper, tackling trooper after trooper before only three remained. They broke off in retreat, slamming into a common room door. The Squad Leader tapped in the override code as fast as he could, waited as it buffered, then broke through, landing with a thud as his partner picked him up, firing the M8-R with one hand.

He stood up, catching his breath, as the door slammed shut behind him. They hadn't gotten into the common room, they had landed themselves into the V.R. Training Area. Multiple chairs lined the walls, each with an extensive amount of wiring and a whole plethora of scientific equipment they couldn't even begin to understand.

"What the Hell is wrong with you people, nearly letting them in like that?!" A female voiced called to the troopers.

"Well if you had no other option, would you have-- wait a minute..." The Squad leader looked up. "You're one of them STIGRU commandos... why the Hell aren't you out there?!" He stood up, motioning with his rifle. "I lost a whole fukken squad to those rotten sacks of shi--" He was cut off.

"Reanimates. You're talking about the reanimates." She stepped closer to the soldiers. "Zombie is a really loose term these days."

"Does it look like we're here for a damn grammar lesson? I want to know why you aren't out there fighting them like all the troopers that were just slaughtered!!" The Squad leader was infuriated.

"I wouldn't have ended up any different than your friends, look, the enemy we're facing at this moment has stepped up their game. They're using swarm tactics, there is little a single soldier can do against one; let alone one without so much as half a magazine." She raised her M8-R Compact, and tapped the PMAG's glass window. She only had a quarter of a magazine's worth of cartridges left. "Besides, I'm not a combat soldier, I'm a tech sergeant; Zoe Black of the 21st Naval Intelligence Group, SRPA." She gestured, "I take care of the V.R. Pods, and anything else that they bring me."

The Squad leader grunted, and took a moment to gather himself.

"They were good men." He muttered. "Call me Captain Smith, the two troopers here are 'Reed' and 'Dunn,' so do you have any idea what the Hell they actually are?" Captain Smith asked.

"Looked like Rabies to me." Reed cut in. "Back on my family farm, we had this dog-thing come in one day, foaming at the mouth and ripping up anything it got its paws on. Pa shot it in the head, and the thing dropped dead."

"Bingo, kid." Zoe said, "BSAA reports referenced it as a violent human rabies strain."

"What about the headshot B.S.?" Smith said, looking at Reed and Zoe. "If it's just a disease, shouldn't center mass be enough to take them down?"

"Not quite; they're reanimated." Zoe explained, "The virus itself simply uses the human body as its host. What little functions left in the brain are simply primal, feral urges; to eat and to kill, they lack functional organs and systems, so fatigue isn't an issue."

Banging came from the steel door of the lab. Outside, inhuman moans came. The 'reanimates' were quite hungry, and being drawn to the sound of the conversation, and previous gun battle. More gunfire came from the halls, followed by the sounds of orders given by a highly coordinated leader. He was directing however many soldiers he had with him with ultimate precision, calling targets and laying down fire when one of them had to reload. They moved closer to the V.R. area. The moaning sounds gave way, moving further down the corridor to whoever was fighting.

"We should help them." Dunn said, looking at the steel doorway. "We're not going to last long here anyways."

"Black," Captain Smith slid a 40 Round PMAG out of his rig, and handed it to Zoe, "Take this. You got anything in here that may help us?"

"Other than my unmatched skill and wits?" She slapped the PMAG into the gun, and pressed the bolt release. "Not quite."

"Alright, the door opens, we make a break for the men in the corridor. Dunn, get your reactive sheet out, they'll recognize us as friendlies. Reed, get on the comms, tell whoever is in range that we're exitting from the V.R. Lab into the... 2nd Main Corridor, Mid Sector." Smith gave orders to the two troopers, before turning back to Zoe. "You don't stop running until we're past the bulkhead."

She gave a nod.

"Alright, God be with us."

The doors opened up, and the troopers rushed out.

----

Lennox charged down the corridor, hearing the bursts of gunfire at the other bulkheads. He saw sprinting infected tackling troopers, tearing them up and turning to other Garrison Soldiers. Lennox looked at Garcia, and then back to their situation.

"Alright, engage the infected arriving through the bulkhead, we gotta get these suckers closed off before they get further in!" He moved through the various rooms interconnected with one another to reach the troopers as quickly as possible. He could hear the infected from his current position. As he arrived at the hallway outside of the closing bulkhead, he saw more infected pouring in, climbing over eachother, and tearing whoever was unfortunate enough to get in their way to literal shreds.

"Garcia, Snake Formation!" Lennox called, Garcia strategically positioning himself behind Lennox. "Aim for the forward most left zeds, I'll take the right!"

They pushed up the corridor, Garrison Troopers laying down additional fire as they dropped the oncoming infected in their tracks.

"Loading!" Garcia called, dropping his current magazine on the floor and replacing it as Lennox provided covering fire. "I'm good!"

"Loading!" Lennox reloaded, while Garcia provided fire.

They pushed up far, and nearly sealed the bulkhead doors. Garcia noted hearing gunfire beyond the bulk.

"Shit sir, we can't leave them out there!" He looked at Lennox. "I'm going in! You guys--" He pointed to a squad of Garrison troopers behind them, "--follow me, stay close!"

"Hold up Garcia, we just fought our way out of the other breach, and you wan't to go back?!" Lennox asked, his rifle trained on the corridor infront of them. "That's insane!"

"Sure is, let's move." He moved into the corridor. The sounds of gunfire grew closer, as the squad made their way down the hallway.

Garcia led the Garrison Squad through the corridor, gunning down more infected as they moved up. They passed grizzly mauled corpses of Garrison troopers on their way. Garcia assumed these were initially security crews, or Garrison troopers making a heroic push to rescue the few remaining living people within the mid sector of the ship. He stopped them at a common room entrance, making sure each trooper had reloaded and was ready to move past, gunning down the infected that would surely burst from the open doors.

"Let's move!" He called, moving forward, his sights trained on the infected sprinting towards him. The Garrison Troopers focused fire on his flanks, cutting down fewer zombies than they expected.

Garcia kept his push, covering the troopers as they reloaded and calling them into a charge to raise morale. They had not left a single undead alive in their path. Empty 6.8mm PMAGs littered the ground behind them. Garcia stopped as a light appeared in the corridor, and the flow of undead ceased. Garcia halted the advancing troopers, as he noticed a chemlight moving down the hallway.

"Don't shoot!" Captain Smith called through the radio, dashing past Garcia midway through the corridor. "We gotta get out of here, there's a shitload of them moving towards us - they got out of the med bay!"

Garcia snapped back to the troopers.

"Are there anymore soldiers ahead of you?" Garcia asked, holding Captain Smith by the collar so he wouldn't just pass by. "We don't leave our men behind."

"No sir, just the ones following me." Smith responded. "C'mon, I don't want anymore men to become those freak's dinner. Tech Sergeant Black here may also have some information on them that could prove vital to taking back the ship--" He was rocked by a random explosion onboard. "--well there goes the Main Armory; can we go now?!"

"Alright, let's make moves!" Garcia called back to the Garrison troopers.

They sprinted, dashed over bodies, and lept over blood pools towards the bulkhead, where Lennox had secured the area. More Garrison Troopers and Navy Personnel awaited, aiming their M8-Rs and OBR rifles at anything that came down the corridor. As Garcia became visible, running and carrying his firearm like a normal human being, Lennox ordered the Troopers to stand down and clear the way. When everyone made it through, the Bulkhead was finally sealed.

Lennox checked his iDroid.

"You guys dodged a major bullet..."

(OOC: I'm surprised this hasn't gotten us on that Pro-Zombie 'nations to infect' list...)
Last edited by New Emmerian Coalition on Wed Oct 22, 2014 2:48 pm, edited 2 times in total.
Current Location: Gone Rogue @ DZ02 Steeleport

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Servinta
Minister
 
Posts: 2823
Founded: Jul 12, 2014
Ex-Nation

Postby Servinta » Wed Oct 22, 2014 3:57 pm

The chorus of moans and gurgling screams that reverberated throughout the bowels of the ships midsection was enough to drive a man into a frightened panic.It was still dark as the power had been shut off and been replaced with emergency powered red lighting, giving the interior of the ship a hellish crimson hue to match the screaming and growling from the undead who roamed the floating tomb.Every once in a while the sounds of gunfire and human voices could be discerned though the steel walls, faintly but it was a good sign that the ship still had some fight left in the form of scattered and confused teams of Atlas and Emmerian sailors who fought a desperate and ultimately losing battle with the infected.

The 13th Naval Kommandos from Servinta were one of these groups but these men weren't confused or scattered, they held themselves together by sheer disgust and revile for the things that haunted this carrier's belly.Bogdan their resident commissar was making sure to drive home the fact that these things where not human in any way shape or form, he spoke confidently about the danger that they faced and that if they didn't be carful that they could bring this 'capitalist disease' upon themselves and endanger their friends family and even their homeland itself as they moved through the winding maze of hallways.Vlad who commanded the now ten man team was not concerned with any of it except for when Bogdan got himself really riled up and started shouting his lecture on his theory loud enough to wake the dead, sadly they seemed to already be up and energized as several had been found gnawing on the remains of crewmen and Atlas forces alike.Any and all of these foul creatures were put down with the quick burst from one of the teams silenced sub-machine gun attachment to their rifles, the rifles themselves had plenty of ammunition but Vlad had ordered that stealth, a particularly ignored part of Servintan doctrine was key to getting out of their current predicament alive.

They came upon another of the 'dissidents' chewing on the broken off thigh bone of some poor unfortunate soul, it almost didn't notice them until they shined a high powered flashlight upon its horrid feast.It gave a primal defensive growling sound as it opened its half decayed jaw wide toward them like a dog defending its food, this angered Kirill who was the teams medic and a former chaplain in the Servintan army who also abored the act of cannibalism more than he hated the fact that they were unable to bury Urmas body after killing him.Kirill fired three shots that tore large holes in the creatures head, causing it to drop among the pile of body parts it was feasting on, and as it fell dead Vlad could hear Kirill say a silent prayer which was something he usually told the man not to do during combat but was currently not in the mood for corrective action.

"Another one, they must be scavengers to be picking the remains clean of the old flesh." Kirill whose observations on the infected's behavior and disbelief in Bogdan's 'dissident' theory was showing Vlad that there was at least one of his team members who wasn't so easily swayed by the commissars authority.

"Then that means that the hunting types are either still stalking about further out or that they have begun to run low on their sustenance." Vlad commented on Kirill's statement with an equally useful and probable idea.

"So quiet is going to be key as we move ahead, keep low and alert, make any targets you see known." Vlad ordered his men as they began to creep along in an attempt to limit sky lining themselves against the dim lighting of the emergency system.

The group moved froward with little to no contacts but plenty of freshly dead crewmen whose corpses were ripped limb from bloody limb as the blood trails were smeared all over the floors and walls, with a few bloody hand prints thrown in for dramatic effect.They neared a stairwell that seemed slick with gore,fluids and body parts to the point that the Servintans had to grip the handrails tightly just to make it up the slippery steps.Once at the top they realized that the stairway lead to a fork in the hallways, the signs that were hung above the doorways to each were long gone, along with many discernible features that surrounded the fork all except for the remains of a dead Atlas solider of unknown nationality and a machine gun that laid next to his defile body. Bullet holes seemed to be everywhere and the fact that there were empty casings littering the ground suggested that one of the ways was where the 'dissidents' had come from and the other was what the man manning the gun had been defending.

"Which way should we head sir?" Seinor petty lascar Maxim asked as he peered down one hallway then down the other with his flashlight illuminating nothing but metal and bodies in either of the paths.

Everyone turned to see what Vlad would choose, either right or left.None of them had a clue what was happening in ether areas of the ship and they most certainly would rely on Vlads leadership and wit to guide them through this nightmare.With a visible jump from Lascar Nikita the teams radio operator, the radio on his back came alive with a broadcast from somewhere in the ship.

"This is Lt. William Lennox, of the Emmerian Naval STIGRU Unit, any force on this frequency, respond and give your location; STIGRU Personnel are onboard at..."


The last part of the radio's transmission was drowned out by the screams of Maxim as he was dragged into the darkness by several bony and gray hands that pulled and tugged at his chest rig and legs as he fought to run away.The horror of the moment was worsened by the moans that the creatures in the darkness gave as they pulled harder at Maxim as others began to devour his lower body bite by bite.

The team responded with a loud and blistering stream of fully automatic fire that they poured into the left hallway, the light from their muzzle flash revealed that whatever struggling moments Maxim gave were simple nervous reactions from the now headless soldiers body.The 'dissidents that were eating his still kicking body were legion as they swarmed over it and tore chunks of flesh and bone away from his corps.

"TO THE RIGHT, NOW!" Vlad yelled as the dissidents who turned their attention from their old meal and turned to their new meals.

The team ran with the rearguard's weapons resting backwards over their shoulders, pulling the trigger and firing blindly in an attempt to slow the horde of dissidents who were now chasing them down the pitch black hallway.Vlad had no proof that the way they were headed was the right way, but it was their only option and they horde behind them was defiantly not going to let them just stop and let them choose the other way.The only hope was that the end of the hallway was an exit and hopefully an open door that would allow them to escape this hellhole and seal the dissidents who perused them.Just as they rounded a bend they came face to face with their salvation and their doom all in one, an automatic bulkhead door was locked in its position, ending any hope of escape and sealing their fate at the hands and claws of the dissident horde that was following them.

"FORM A DEFENSIVE LINE AND HOLD THEM BACK, NIKITA SEND FOR HELP NOW!" Vlad yelled over the rumble of the approaching dissidents.

The team formed up a line of defense, with the men who were armed with standard rifles kneeling in the front line and the men armed with heavy or less damaging weapons standing in the rear line.Both would alternate between firing upon the horde so that maximum firepower could be used while reducing the chance of the dissidents overwhelming someone during a lull in the firing.this was an archaic tactic but one that was well versed in Servintan military police units that had to handle riots in the home country, Vlad hoped the same principle that worked on rioting crowds would be just as effective against the rampaging undead.

Behind this wall of men and weapons Nikita knelt and cranked the radios power pack in a frenzied attempt to increase the transmission power.The first waves of the dissidents rounded the corner and was immediately cut down by the rifle fire from the first line, the line had enough ammunition in their clips to cut down most of the second wave but the sounds of their weapons empty clicks seemed to spur the dissidents onward.The second line took up the firing as the first reloaded, among this madness the radio was set to full power transmission allowing Nikita to make the call for aid.

"This is the 13th Naval Kommandos, we are trapped at Bulkhead Number 213, we require assistance to get through the doorway!" Nikita's radio sent the broadcast over the frequency that they had heard the Emmerian transmission earlier.

Then as he finished his transmission, Holkov a rifleman on the first line was dragged screaming from his comrades.

The end had begun for the Servintans...

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Exantos
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Ex-Nation

Postby Exantos » Wed Oct 22, 2014 4:06 pm

Phil looked up from the Heckler and Koch HK that he was trying to clean out. He heard something in the distance. As he stood up he heard it louder. It was someone moaning. He walked through and doorway and looked towards a cliff where a small child seemed to be on the ground. The child seemed to be moaning as though he was in great pain. Phil walked forward and said, “Hey are you ok?”
The moaning got louder as the child looked up. Phil stepped back startled at its eyes. They were black with specks along it. Tears were spilling down it as the child moaned again even louder. It reached forward and grabbed him on and arm and said, “WAKE UP!”

Phil sat up in bed shocked as James was shaking him. “Phil there seems to be an issue. I heard screaming down the hall and I’m assuming it’s the Congreveopians. Now the Wi-Fi isn’t out so that means something is going down right now.”

Phil said, “Ok, let’s load up and head out. Who has their gear in their lockers raise your hands? Ok only Jacob. That’s good here.” As Phil tossed Jacob a USP he heard the moan again.

“Everyone load up and put guns on Auto. If there’s anything amiss then we’ll be prepared.” Said Phil as he took his rifle from behind his pillow and switched it off of safety and slammed a mag into place.

“Main objective is get to the armory to get some armor alright boys? Also keep quiet.”

“Yes sir.” Came the resounding whispers.

Phil motioned for Rocky to take point. As Ricky opened the door it creaked ominously. Jacob jokingly said, “I thought it was your turn to oil it James?”

James’s reply was to shoot an icy glare Jacob’s way. Phil motioned for the two of them to shut it off and as he stepped through the door he heard a banging down the hall. He motioned for Ricky to lead the way, because he had the silenced HK. As they walked down the banging became louder and louder. Suddenly it stopped, and a moan resounded down the hall. Ricky motioned for everyone to stop and he said, “Phil check this out. I don’t know what it is but it’s creepy as hell.”

Phil stepped forward and saw underneath a flickering light something that looked like a man shamble down the hallway. Phil motioned for the man to stop and yet he kept on walking. Phil then said, “Ricky he won’t stop you are free to fire. Maim him in the leg. We have some first aid, but we can’t let him keep coming forward. He might have Ebola or something. I heard it’s been spreading in some third world country again.”

Ricky stepped forward and kneeled down. He sighted and fired. I tiny pew was omitted and part of the creatures leg was blasted off. Apparently unfazed it kept coming forward and began moaning. Oh the moan. The epiphany of human suffering, yet the sound made to feel like unbridled rage being released in one horrific moan. Suddenly a moan responded down the hallway behind them and another from the way the creature came. Phil thoroughly spooked said, “Take him down.”

As Ricky fired into the creature’s chest with the tiny pews you hear the pops as the bullets entered the creature’s chest. Yet it still walked forward. Rocky shifted his aim and muttered a prayer and fired at the head. As the bullet entered the cranium and exited through the brain the monster slumped over and collapsed to the ground. Hopefully down for the count. Jacob said, “Guys this is just like that game ummm… Secrets of the dead. These creatures as the main monsters and I think that they’re called Zeds or something like that. The only way to take one down is to shoot it in the head.”

“Gotcha.” Phil replied, “Somebody take out one of those zeds behind us and the one in front as well. I really hope this is what the Congreveopians were screaming about. Let’s move to the armory and see if we can find them on the way. After that let’s move topside. If they’re not there we’re going back in. Remember leave no Raven Force member behind.”

“Sir yes Sir.”
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Torrumbarry
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Founded: Sep 08, 2012
Ex-Nation

Postby Torrumbarry » Wed Oct 22, 2014 4:18 pm

CANSOCC Quarters - Aboard the E.S.S. Revelation
Sporadic bursts of small-arms fire and the shrill screams aroused the "Phantom Corps" operatives. A core principle of CANSOCC was that operatives should: "sleep light, be poised to fight", but the ensuing racket could have woken a sloth on a hangover. Chief Special Warfare Operator Mortlock, commanding officer of the Torrumbarian contingent of Task Force Atlas, was the first to react; he flicked the safety off of his Halcyon Arms Deadeye Defender SMG and pressed his ear up against the door to their compartment, straining to pick up some noise. "Guys," Mortlock murmured furtively "get your asses up. What in the Lord's name is happening? Beane, establish comms with the bridge of the Revelation."
"Nothing, sir."
"Is it our end?" Mortlock queried, still in his nightwear "or is it theirs?"
"Could be either, sir," Beane locked eyes with her commanding officer and grimaced "we don't have any of our gear, either, sir."
"Yeah, no s***," Iver sighed, as he tore off his nightwear and donned a pair of crumpled fatigues and his boots; the rest of the squad, save Mortlock, followed suit.
"Shut it," Mortlock murmured, his ear still pressed up against the door "I think I have something." The remainder of the squad gave each other both quizzical looks, not entirely sure whether to be concerned or irritated by this interference of their cherished sleep. They could not have conceived the horror that had seized the Emmerian vessel in their deepest, most diabolical nightmares; the congealed blood, the ear-splitting shrieks of the living and the gravelly growls of the dead, the gore and guts splayed across the walls of the gangways or even the confined conditions they would have to face the undead in during combat. "Well I'll be damned, 'cos that ain't human," he continued, listening to the unearthly snarling emanating from just outside their compartment "Lord have mercy on my soul."
"Damn, you sound like some elderly vicar," snorted Beane, an outspoken atheist "and save the sermon, mate." She got a couple meek chuckles out of her comrades.
"Go f-" A colossal whomp filled their quarters as something collided with the door.
"Christ!" Beane yelled, swinging her P226 Sig Sauer in the direction of the entrance; she flicked her safety to OFF.
Mortlock grinned: "you cynical sonofab****!" Beane rolled her eyes. "Joke's over. On me lads," he continued, and extracted a blueprint of the aircraft carrier from the rear pocket of his nightwear "see, the armory is located here, and we're here. So that's some distance we're going to be covering in a pretty limited space of time. Whatever it is out there, it hopefully dislikes a couple hot lead slugs in its arse, so we stick together and stay tight, diamond formation. Halifax, you've got six."
"Bulls***!"
"Shut up! If you stray behind, we ain't coming back unless we have the whole f***in' cavalry riding alongside. Godspeed, brothers," Beane frowned disapprovingly "and sister. Here we go, RETREAT!?!"
"HELL!" The fire team chorused, bellowing at the top of their lungs.
"Deploy! Light em' up!" Mortlock, who had slipped out of his nightwear rapidly, flung the door open and sprayed automatic fire at the thing lumbering towards them. Within the second, it was splayed, spread-eagled, on the floor of the dimly-lit gangway. "What the fuck is that?" Verbeek bellowed, prodding the bloodied mass with his Deadeye Defender and examining the entrance and exit wounds "whatever it is, it sure doesn't seem to like a generous serving of Torrumbarian lead."
"Who does?"
Last edited by Torrumbarry on Sun Nov 02, 2014 5:58 am, edited 3 times in total.
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New Emmerian Coalition
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Ex-Nation

Postby New Emmerian Coalition » Thu Oct 23, 2014 8:18 pm

"Bulkhead 213 : Caution!!

The ship's automated alert function kicked in, as heavy fighting continued around the various closed bulkheads. Lennox had barely a moment's notice before the alarm's in his sector began blaring once more. Having just made it back from the breached sections of the ship, he had no quarrel with staying in the safe sector, no matter how much longer it remained so. In their training, he had never thought he would experience such a horror; walking corpses devouring the living and over powering some of the best soldiers the Coalition could offer with little to no effort whatsoever. He was a bit shocked that the soldiers had trouble at all; they had automatic weapons, they knew strategic manuevers, all they were fighting were animals in the shape of humans was all. There had to be something else to the madness, something particularly sinister about the nature of these infected individuals. He was snapped from his trail of thought by Garcia.

"Hey man, they're getting notice of a breach at Bulkhead 213, we need to backup the squads there!!" He dropped a duffelbag infront of Lennox. Unzipping it, he pulled out numerous 6.8mm PMAGs, some in the 40 Round variety. "Stock up, can't go all the way back to the armory."

"213...that's where Santiago bit it..." Lennox said, sliding various magazines into his vest's pouches. "Do you think he made it?"

"Santiago is a dumb son of a bitch, but he's a member of STIGRU. I'll bet he did something right."

"Let's get a move on then..." Lennox wiped the sweat from his brow. He already regret his choice of words; giving himself false hope that his comrade avoided such a grizzly death.

---

"Zulu One, ready to breach!" A Garrison Squad Leader called. "We've got a possible breach on Bulkhead 213, proceeding with 'Informal Quarantine' Protocol!" He slapped his helmet, troopers forming behind him. Faint echoes of a radio message began coming through their comms.

"Sir, we've got possible friendlies in the area! Proceed with protocol?" A soldier called.

The squad leader stopped, examining his options.

"Those are ATLAS Personnel!" The soldier called again, "High priority!"

"Can you patch through to their frequency?!" The Squad leader was shocked that Atlas personnel were still behind the bulkheads. "Shit, no time!"

The bulkhead began sliding open. The cleanup crew readied itself.

"Send a message on all frequencies; any and all personnel behind the bulkheads are to mark themselves as uninfected using chemlights, or some form of illumination!" The Squad Leader called. "It may not work but it's our best bet of avoiding friendly fire!"

"Bulkhead is beginning opening protocols, get ready!" A navy tech called. "You guys get out there, and clean up the possible breach, then get your asses back here with any survivors still breathing."

Lennox and Garcia were able to catch the squad as they prepped to make their way out.

"You guys with Atlas?" One of the troopers asked.

"Yeah, this Bulkhead 213?" Lennox asked, catching his breath.

"We're breaching it now, we've got a possible breach outside of it and-- What the Hell?!"

The bulkhead jammed, stopping midway and struggling to open further. Gunfire became more apparent and the troopers rushed to try and pry it open.

"Dammit, whoever's in there, hold out as long as you can!" Lennox called through, pushing a tech aside to look at the controls. There was something bugging them... this wasn't a faulty door.
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Servinta
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Founded: Jul 12, 2014
Ex-Nation

Postby Servinta » Thu Oct 23, 2014 10:14 pm

"HOLD THE LINE!!!" Vlad yelled above the sounds of battle as his men moved closer together to try and fill the gap left from their now dead comrade after he had been suddenly dragged from the ranks and devoured by the waves of dissidents who were now bearing down on the Servintans.

The situation had been grim from the beginning but now it was turning to a truly dire time as the undead horde continued to besiege the Kommandos.The remaining eight men under Vlads command were doing what they could to keep the dissidents at a distance from the first rank, where they would be unable to use their numbers to push them back against the Bulkhead that trapped the team inside the midsection with the undead.But as the fighting continued the ammunition was starting to become lighter and lighter as the dissidents only seemed to become more and more numerous in their attempts to cover the ground between them and the Servintan line.

"Dammit, whoever's in there, hold out as long as you can!" Lennox called through


This replie to their calls for help sounded like sweet music to the Servintan's ears as they renewed their spirits and continued to fire upon the dissidents with confidence that they would soon be saved by the Atlas forces that were opening the bulkhead.

"Keep firing men, death to the traitors." Bogdan screamed encouragement as he thrusted his rifles bayonet into the eye socket of a dissident that had been blown in half by the scything fire being put down by the giant of a man named 'Nesti' whose wielding of the Nikonov double barrel machine gun was second to none in his massive hands.

The dead who were cut down by the storm of fire from the Servitnan guns were either obliterated or died with horrifying screams as their body parts were torn apart by the heavy volume of fire that was sending shrapnel flying through the hallway.Some however were simply cut in half or had a limb disabled, these critically injured creatures crawled forward in a mad attempt to continue their pursuit of the living.

One of these disabled abominations of the human form was able to hide itself among the floor that was littered with the bodies of the fallen dissidents and slowly crawled forward, its decaying skin camouflaging it as one of its dead brethren.Weather this was an intentional choice on its part or if it had simply been chance that this being should match the environment around it and infiltrate the Servintans line of defense would never be known.

From out of nowhere the creature sprung from a pile of corpses and landed on poor tsargent Dimitri, he screamed in agony as the beast latched onto his arm and bit down hard, dragging him down from the shock and the weight of half a body pulling on him.He cried for help and that cry was answered by a pistol round that smashed into the dissidents head and exited the other side with a sickening plopping sound, Vlad had seen the dissident as it sprung but was too late to prevent it from grabbing Dimitri by the arm.He reached down and pulled the boy up, they both smiled for only a moment as one helped the other up but the smile soon turned to regret as they both looked at the bleeding teeth marks that had punctured Dmitri's right arm.

"What should I do, I do no want to die and become like those things." The boy whimpered as he held his injured arm close to himself.

"You will die as a hero Dmitri." Vlad said as he handed the tsargent back his rifle and pointed to the onrushing horde.

A silent nod was exchanged between the two as there was nothing else to say, Bogdan seemed to have noticed the incident and patted him on the back as Dimitri passed though both lines of defense and charged out to counter the dissidents own charge.He let out a wild war cry as he fired into the mass of decay and death that was heading straight for him, it was the last charge of the dead man.Without warning Dimitri dissipated in the white hot flash of an explosion that originated from his knapsack, this shocked most of the men more than the dissidents did as they watched the fire consume the dead and tear chunks of the walls apart.

"We have to get out of here now." Nikita pleaded as he banged on the half open doorway.

Vlad didn't know what had happened to Dimitri but he knew that they could use this momentary lull in the dissidents numbers to escape through the bulkhead.Quickly he tapped on the men's backs and signaled fro them to make their moves with the remainder covering them, one by one they slid underneath the stuck doorway and meet up whit whoever was on the other side until only Vlad remained on the Mid-section side. Dispatching one more onrushing dissident he turned and did a running slide underneath the doorway, once he stood up he saw that it was Col. Lennox who was the commander of the STIGRU team.

"Seems we have a little pest problem colonel." Vlad said as he turned his pistol back to the half open doorway, the pleasantries would have to wait as the door didn't seem to close and the dissidents were making a mad dash for this new exit to their tomb.
Last edited by Servinta on Fri Oct 24, 2014 8:10 am, edited 1 time in total.

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The United Remnants of America
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Founded: Mar 09, 2013
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby The United Remnants of America » Fri Oct 24, 2014 5:46 am

The group of seven Sentinels had made their way near the 3rd Squad's door, trying to stay as quietly as possible, even though that didn't seem like it mattered, there were still so many corpses.

"Hey, Ralph, how ya doing?" Jolly was leading the group now that the zombies had thinned out. the 3rd Squad's operator looked pale and sickly, his bare hand still seeping blood through the bandage Oreo had placed on it. "I-i'm doing fine, sir. I'm just... A little tired, is all..." Jolly raised an eyebrow and turned his sight back forward as the team passed by a door that sounded like it was going to break open any second.

Too bad Jolly's assumption was right. The door's lock snapped at that point, letting the steel door fly open and unleashing a hoard of undead right into the Sentinels' midst. Kraut was right in front of the door and turned to open up with his ACR even as the group of zombies overran him, knocking him onto the floor and tearing into him. "A-ahh!" "Orley, no!" The rest of the 4th Squad opened fire on the undead, with Jolly turning to fire on the monsters as well. Ralph just leaned back against the opposite wall and took a handful of lazy shots into the dead flesh pile.

As the last of the zombies was dispatched, the squad regrouped and reloaded, though there was now six of them. "Alright... Guys, I'm sorry about Orley's death, but we need to move on. He knew the risks and he wouldn't want us to sit here and get killed. I can already hear the undead around the corner, they're coming up on us. Come on." The team nodded silently and raised their rifles to take off.

"Wait..." It was Peters. "Just, let me stay here... And hold 'em off.... I'm useless to you guys as it is, I'll just turn and start eating you at some point. Leave me here so I can hold the zombies off while you get Koopa, Tarzan and Ninja." Peters leaned down slowly and picked up Kraut's ACR and checked the magazine: 3 bullets. "Jolly put a hand on Peters' shoulder, "Are you sure about this, kid? You know what will happen to you." Peters just gave a small smile, "Heh... I'm definitely sure... Thanks for... For being like a father to me, Jack... I appreciate it... But go, please."

Jolly nodded and held an arm out, "4th Squad, move out." Jolly, Pollock, Oreo, Guido, and O'Malley moved off, rifles and pistols at the ready. Jolly led the group, he didn't want the rookies to see the tear welling in his eye. As they turned a corner, a single shot went off behind them, and Jolly let his tears run freely now.

3rd Squad Bunk Room

A chnking on the door made the 3rd Squad jump up and ready themselves, but they relaxed when the door opened to reveal 5 familiar blood-spattered Sentinels.

Koopa spoke first, "Jolly! Great, you got us! Wait... Where's Peters? And where's that 4th Squad guy, Orley?"

Jolly just shook his head and held out his arm, "Move out, 3rd Squad. We've got to find Lennox or Garcia, see what we're to do." Ninja and Tarzan shared a look as the three 3rd Squad operators moved out and joined the Sentinel team, taking sidearms from who could spare them.

Maybe the Emmerians had a plan. Or that was Jolly's hope.
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New Emmerian Coalition
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Founded: Mar 07, 2011
Ex-Nation

Postby New Emmerian Coalition » Fri Oct 24, 2014 7:20 pm

Lennox grunted as he helped pull a soldier through the struggling bulkhead, and was shocked to see more undead pushing down the corridor.

"You sure 'pest' is the correct term?" Lennox sighed as he stood up, firing a burst into the opening. "Something is freezing these doors, what the Hell!" He looked back to the panel.

"C'mon Lennox, those things'll swarm us if we don't get back in time." Garcia reloaded. "I'm running low too, we have to do something, now!" He looked over to Vlad. "Can your men cover me while I make a mad dash to the armory? I need to know the caliber of weapon you use, and if you need more equipment, I can fill some bags up!"

"Preferably now!" One of the troopers called, pulling his Vicker out and emptying a magazine into the oncoming horde.

---

E.S.C. Revelations - Bridge

"What the Hell do you mean, Standby?!" Admiral Carrasco yelled, furious. "I've got nearly 6,450 souls on board, we need support! This isn't your personal floating laboratory! "

"Admiral, it wasn't an easy decision to make. I'm sure you know this. But the benefits outway the loss." A voice spoke over the radio. "And if you agree to cease security actions onboard..."

"Dammit, does it look like I'm willing to make that choice? These men are some of the best your nation has to offer, and I'll be damned if I let them sacrifice themselves to be a part of some twisted science experiment!!" Carrasco exclaimed, his heartrate skyrocketing. "Not only will you be signing off the lives of thousands of our own men, but a large number of foreign personnel as well-- you'd better be ready for a full scale war with each and every nation participating in--"

"Task Force Atlas, right. The poster child of international cooperation and unity." The shadowy voice spoke softer and softer, eerily becoming strict, "Acceptable losses. No doubt you won't understand."

"Are you calling your own nation an 'acceptable loss?'" Carrasco sat down, catching his breath, "By order of the Emmerian Navy, you are to cease all actions against the E.S.C. Revelations and her crew." He said, wiping his face.

"Admiral Carrasco, we will ask one last time before resorting to our last measures," The voice deepened, "Will you cease all security action on the ship?"

"Go to Hell." Carrasco muttered. "This ship is property of the Emmerian Na--"

"Admiral Carrasco, you are hereby discharged from active command of the Emmerian Command Ship Revelation, thank you for your service." The voice cut off.

Already, the admiral could see the blinking lights of a group of helicopters in the distance. He knew what their purpose was.

"I know you're still on this frequency. Sending your men to take the ship is futile." He looked to one of the gunners on deck, controlling the ship's anti air defenses. "Unknown hostiles, bearing north at --"

The bridge went into a state of panic, as crew rushed to their battle stations. They witnessed as below, the flight deck was swarmed with undead from the hangar bays. They had no air support. They would have to rely on their point defense turrets to protect them in this vital instance before being boarded by the unknown entities.

"We know what you're doing; it won't work. We built the ship. We know everything about it."

The bridge went dark, the cannons and AA turrets becoming disarmed, returning to survey mode. The crew witnessed the entire bridge area go on lockdown. All of their transmitters went dark, the ship's controls, and the weapons systems onboard - all shut down. Control was redirected to the onboard A.I., Sunny. Sunny's objective was pacifist; the ship's main priority when she was activated was to continue to the last selected objective and speed there with no usage of weaponry to save power. In reality, it was to prevent a foreign power from gaining information from the ship. Admiral Carrasco knew what he had to do; he pulled a service pistol from a security guard, and began sprinting down one of the stairwells on the bridge. As the helicopters grew closer, they saw the autocannons on them rev up. Many of the crewmen, as per Carrasco's orders, fled with him, though some just stared in awe. They were obliterated when the cannons tore apart the upper bridge, destroying all forms of manual control in that area. They had assured their takeover of the ship.

Carrasco was trying to make his way to the AI Core of the ship, deep below the bridge. He'd have to bypass the midsector, but once he was there, he knew he'd have to get word to Atlas. The skyline of Union City became visible -- the Revelation was going to be grounded, indefinitely.

As the Helicopters passed by, there was clear labelling on the tails; SRPA. Soldiers with black equipment could be seen from the open Hind-esc doorways, with special AR7G-02 Rifles; Emmerian Experimental weaponry which fired heavy ammunition at rapid rates, it would slice through any body armor and essentially crush the skull of any undead. Their body armor seemed to rely on heavy kevlar padding, and specialized ballistic vests. They wore heavy collars and Land Warrior V.2 helmet systems. With the ship's defense systems dark, and the sound of oncoming drones in the distance, they'd have control over the ship unless Carrasco was able to get word out to Atlas.

He punched into his iDroid a specific objective to any nearby soldiers; Clear Midsector - By Any Means - Hostile Combatants on Deck With that, he said a prayer, and dashed towards the AI Core's chamber, deep within the bowels of the mid sector. His Service Pistol was a derivative of Coalition Machine Pistols. The pistol used caseless cartridges, and the magazine was quite large due to it covering the majority of the thumbhole. He set his to semi-automatic, the rounds being large enough to penetrate a skull. Other security personnel followed him. He knew Atlas, one way or another, would arrive in Mid Sector sooner or later; the Bulkheads were beginning to open once more, the security network nearly shut off entirely. However, the alarms that followed Carrasco, no doubt being activated by SRPA, drew most of the undead attention. If anything, his brave sacrifice would give Atlas a few moments to prepare their counter attack; if they were able to receive the objective...
Current Location: Gone Rogue @ DZ02 Steeleport

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Hurtful Thoughts
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Posts: 4961
Founded: Sep 09, 2005
Capitalist Paradise

Postby Hurtful Thoughts » Fri Oct 24, 2014 7:49 pm

The Hurti raiders managed to run through the halls in force, larger than most of the small pockets of resistance they encountered, but it soon became apparent that the faster and more capable infected were avoiding contact with such a large force... getting organized.

As they cleared one hall though, a burst of gunfire tore-open their point-man's windpipe.

"Shit! Covering-fire!" Foyt ordered as he went for the fallen soldier's handgun and prepared to shoot the offending body dead for such a travesty.

"Don't shoot! .. I thought I was the only one. Thank god you're here!" cried a... the guy looked like some mechanic that just happened to raid one of the armories before holding it all for himself.

The Hurti quickly piled-in and started grabbing rifles, ammo-pouches, and trying to vainly clear the wounded man's airway for a few seconds before Gibbons walked-up with an Emmerian pistol, and put the man out of his misery before giving their newbie a death glare.

the armory was well-stocked, at least for nine people, more than they could hope to actually carry. Foyt set about forming an outer perimeter with instructions to fire until first mag empty or malfunction, then fall back to allow the next person a clear shot and continue trading ground and bullets for a bit more time on their lives so they could lay in a bit more hurt. The larger perimeter also allowed for a smaller watch-detail to provide better advance-warning. What remained of Kayora and her team was held in reserve to bring-up ammo and try to raise comms through ship-wide announcement.

Finally, she got through.

"Bulkhead 213: Caut-- Er... Hello? Good. This is Corporal Kayora. Bravo-squad, Hurti Marines; Weapons locker 413 is secure with one kilo-indigo-alpha niner survivors, requesting reinforcement and extraction. Over."
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Congreveopia
Minister
 
Posts: 3434
Founded: Dec 09, 2013
Ex-Nation

Postby Congreveopia » Fri Oct 24, 2014 8:17 pm

“HYYAGH!” with a scream, Leighton finished his axe’s swing, it stopped a good three inches into the zombie’s skull.

“He’s security.” said Leighton as he pulled out the axe and the body fell back to the ground. “Check for weapons.”

Charles glanced over the zombie as it lay on the ground in a slowly-expanding pool of blood. He saw it had its rifle on its back. He unclipped it and handed it to John while Thomas and Leighton moved ahead cautiously. Charles took the zombie’s pistol and the two mags of ammo he could see for it. He tossed the second aside, realising it was empty, and swapped the half-full one in the gun for the full one he just took. John began to search the zombie’s vest for ammo for the rifle. Charles jogged up to where the other two were.

“I thought the right sector was meant to be clear.” said Thomas.

“It’s better than the middle.” said Leighton “There are only a few here. For now at l-”

A zombie dashed out from around a corner ahead. It sprinted towards them and leapt towards Leighton as Thomas tried to raise his axe. Time seemed to slow down for Charles as he instinctively brought the pistol up. He lined the sights up on the zombie’s head and squeezed the trigger. Once. Twice. And then time seemed to return to normal.

“I really need to thank the school that gave me basic training.” thought Charles as the zombie collapsed to the ground.

“Thanks.” said Leighton “Nexus says the tertiary backup armory is just ahead. Let’s go.”

“I’ll say.” said John, running up to them. “Can you believe that that guy only had three bullets on him? Honestly, what is this world coming to?”

The group moved out again. They formed into their more natural pattern of Leighton and Thomas in the front, followed by Charles, and then John in the back. As zombies appeared, Charles shot them or John did if Charles was busy. Leighton only had to swing his axe once. They quickly arrived at the armoury, but the door was closed.

“Nexus, we need another door open.” said Leighton.

“Hang on.” said Nexus “The carrier is behaving oddly. What’s going on in th- OH CRAP! Laser uplink site two two is about to go! Everything I know about the Revelation is now on your PCUs! Goo-”

“Nexus?” said Charles “Nexus? Are you there?”

“Everything he knows…” said Leighton as John spent his final bullet on a zombie that had just come out of a nearby room. “Thomas, check if we have any passwords in there. Charles, watch for zombies. You’re the only one with ammo.”

“And only four shots of it, too.” thought Charles. Suddenly, he heard the armoury door open behind him.

“Great job!” said John “Thanks for the passwords, Congreveopia Information Command.”

“I was still looking for passwords.” said Thomas, staring at his PCU in wonder. Suddenly they heard more doors opening all over the ship.

“Do you think the bulkheads to the midsection are opening?” asked Charles.

“Ssh!” said Leighton, putting his finger to his mouth and pushing them into the armory. He set his PCU on the ground outside and then carefully shut the door and slid the manual lock closed. Charles opened communications with Leighton’s PCU and pulled up the live video from the fisheye-lens camera on it. The grainy video showed a lot of zombies shamble into the hallway from the direction of the midsection. Most kept going deeper into the left sector, but quite a few stayed in the hallway outside. The four did their best to loot the armoury quitely. Leighton and Charles took two of the three PDWs and all the ammo for them.Thomas took the only carbine and duck-taped a large knife to the end of it. John took the only assault rifle. They each also took two mini-frag grenades, and Thomas and Leighton each took a regular frag grenade. Charles grabbed a variety of flares. They all took standard Emmerain pistols and chest-rigs. They each attached a chemlight to the front and back of the chest rigs to mark themselves as uninfected. This left the armory pretty much empty save for a few smoke grenades, a pistol, and a PDW with no ammo. Finally, Leighton borrowed John’s PCU and called out a radio message to any member of Task Force Atlas that could hear him.

“Hello.” he said “Is anyone else alive out there? This is the Platinum Soldiers, we’re inside the tertiary backup armory. Judging by live video from the hallway outside, there are too many zombies here for us to break out safely without support, so we could use a hand. Is anyone there? Hello?”
"Close air support covereth a multitude of sins." - Maxim 4

Congreveopia is an advanced MT nation, managed by the artificial superintelligence known as "Nexus". It is very active in global affairs, and loves manipulating nations to steer the future of the world.
Links:
Equator Confederation wrote:Congreveopia has spoken. Do it now.
Vancon wrote:Enter Cong, the smartest of our bunch.
The United Remnants of America wrote:Except for Cong, whom I'm now decently sure is a superhuman being we should probably be worshipping.

User avatar
Servinta
Minister
 
Posts: 2823
Founded: Jul 12, 2014
Ex-Nation

Postby Servinta » Fri Oct 24, 2014 8:40 pm

"Can your men cover me while I make a mad dash to the armory? I need to know the caliber of weapon you use, and if you need more equipment, I can fill some bags up!"


"Some 7.62x39, Makarov nine mil and 54 Russian if you please, our guns have enough left to cover you but two barreled guns eat up allot of brass quickly." Vlad laughed as he replied to the colonel but it was far from a laughing matter, at most the men had but two more full magazines left on each of them and the fact that their team had been cut down to a mere squad of seven men in total.

"COMRADE VLAD, LET US STAND TOGETHER AND SLAUGHTER THESE TRAITORS!!!" Bogdan yelled as he hurried the men to Vlad's side.

Like a matador antagonizing a great bull Vlad pulled out his gold trimmed officer's sword and clanged the blued steel blade against the side of his dirty and worn pistol, the contact sent vibrations through the blade and gun along with chills down his spine as he contemplated the likelihood of him surviving this little show of bravado.His men seemed to be encouraged by the macho display and smiled as they faced down the oncoming horde, Bogdan didn't smile, as usual, but at least he wasn't shouting some vague catchphrase that they had all heard a thousand times before.

The dissidents were starting to scramble underneath the half open doorway when Vlad pulled the trigger on his pistol and stabbed into the mass of writhing undead with the tip of his sword.His move promoted the rest of his men to match it ten fold as they all fired into the dissident horde at once, the sound alone was deafening but the addition of the dissidents screams and roars made it all the more unbearable to the human ear to take.Thankfully their weapons bite was much worse than the bark, as the heavy weighted bullets tore into the already weakened decayed flesh of the dissidents and ricocheted off of the steel floor to do more damage as they bounced off the metal and into the bodies of the attacking zombies.

The close range and the caliber of the weapons alone was enough to force the dissidents back a few feet before the teams magazines needed to be replaced.The dissidents returned with a vengeance just as the men slammed fresh ammunition into the chambers of their rifles and machine guns, the sheer weight of the dissidents charge was enough to make one of the men flinch and shift his foot backwards a few centimeters.Such an offense in front of an officer and foreigners was usually a flogging but Bogdan would have to log that mental note in for a later time, but for now the coward would stand and fight just like everyone else.

The reloaded weapons was enough to hold the horde back for around a minute as the dissidents ran, fell, and died screaming at the Servintans to try and stop their devastating stream of fire.But soon the ammunition ran dry and the clicks of empty chambers was all that could be heard though the din of the battle.

In a flash Vlad stowed his pistol and lashed out with his sword, decapitating a onrushing dissident with the fine bladed edge.The rest of the team either began to resort to bayonet strikes and slashes or used the sturdy rifles as crude clubs by gripping the hot barrels with their gloved hands and swinging for blunt trauma.

As Vlad fought in hand to hand combat with the dissidents he hoped that they were providing enough of a covering distraction for the Emmerian Coalition soldiers to retrieve ammunition and assist in the fight.

User avatar
Exantos
Ambassador
 
Posts: 1276
Founded: Feb 08, 2012
Ex-Nation

Postby Exantos » Fri Oct 24, 2014 8:54 pm

Ricky walked down the hallway with his gun primed to tear apart any of the zeds that come across his path. As he walked down he could hear load moaning coming from behind him and distant gunfire. Suddenly they came across an intersection. Phil motioned for everyone to stop and taking out his little map said, “Ok if we turn left here the armory should be about 400 meters in front of us. It’s in one of the side doors.”

Ricky nodded and poked his head out the door way and looked down the hall. He saw a few zeds but nothing to worry about. Suddenly he could hear someone speaking down at the armory. He motioned for Phil to come forward and said, “Sir what options do we have hear? There seems to be civilians down by the armory. Basic military protocol would be to equip them and escort them to an evac zone, yet we don’t have any way of communicating to them that friendlies are incoming. If we yell then we’ll be noticed by the zeds and a horde

could be formed. We don’t want that.”
Jacob walked up and said, “Sir I have my radio still. When you said gear up I grabbed mine just in case. Check through the frequencies and maybe we can find them/who they are.”

Phil grabbed the offered radio and turned it on. He first checked the Spec Ops frequency and then he ran through the ship wide frequency. Suddenly on the ship wide one something came through: “Hello *ksssh* bravo squad, hurti marines*static*Locker 413 secure *kssh*req*static*reinforcements. Over.”

Phil said, “I think this is them. Lemme respond.”(radio) “Hello Hurti marines. This is Exantonian Golden Legion Raven squad responding. We are close to your position. We’ll be moving up to your position soon over.”

Phil walked over to Ricky and nodded to him to get a move on. As they moved forward across the open area Phil said to Jacob, “You’re sure this is the place where we stored our body armor.”

“Yes sir. I oversaw that myself. If it isn’t here it’s either been transferred, we’ve been betrayed, or I haven’t gotten enough sleep in the past week or so.”

The distant gunfire got closer and suddenly a transmission came over their radio. “*ksssh* Platinum soldiers*static* Backup Armory
*ksssshhh* need Assistance *static*.”

Phil looked to Jacob and said, “So that’s where they are. Let’s see if we can get these Hurti soldiers to help us group up with the platinum soldiers. Then maybe we can get a link to Ex-AI and get some information on what’s happening outside. Also we should be able to take anything on then. I’m certain that…” As Phil was speaking a zombie walked up behind them and moaned as though it had taken their scent. Then it started running towards them.

“WTF!” yelled Jacob as he fired four bullets from the USP into the zombies head taking it down.

Phil said,” They can run. Go we need to get to that armory ASAP.” As more zombies started turning towards them, and some shuffled while others walked, and the rest ran. Phil towards the Locker and covered the last 100 meters covering the group with his F-2000. He heard Ricky shout out, “Friendly.” Yet he didn’t look back for fear that they would be overrun. Finally he got to the locker and looked to the Hurti soldiers and said,

“Hello gentlemen I am banner man Phil Smith and there are Congreveopian Soldiers that are about to be overrun. We need to get over to them and save them ASAP. I need your help. The question is will you accept mine as well.”

As he said that Jacob picked up a space HK on one of the table and slipped Phil’s body armor over his shoulders while sliding two grenades into slots on the side.
"The only normal people are the ones you don't know very well."-Alfred Adler

User avatar
The GAmeTopians
Negotiator
 
Posts: 7306
Founded: May 12, 2014
Democratic Socialists

Postby The GAmeTopians » Sat Oct 25, 2014 6:18 am

Colonel Jackson stopped to listen to the nearby radio transmissions.
"Computer, search for Congreveopian transmissions."
Searching.... Found!
"This is the Platinum Soldiers, we’re inside the tertiary backup armory. Judging by live video from the hallway outside, there are too many zombies here for us to break out safely without support, so we could use a hand. Is anyone there? Hello?”
"S**T! Okay, computer, locate the tertiary backup armory and calculate the best path."
Calculating... Route Established!
An arrow appeared on the team's HUDs and they rushed through the corridors, freezing as they saw the mass of zombies in the hallway of the tertiary backup armory.
"Well, men, knives out, attack!"
They drew their knives and shot and stabbed like demons. Thomas stayed back, taking potshots with his sniper rifle at the zombies who got too close.
"Platinum Soldiers, this is Colonel Altman of Team HellBent, you have an opening, take it!"
Empire of Donner land wrote:EHEG don't stop for no one.
It's like your a prostitute and the RP is a truck. The truck don't stop.

"If this were an anime that wouldn't be a problem - in anime, clothes are optional." -A good friend of mine
Shyluz wrote:Ah, well. How many booms do you want?

I see you Jordslag...

Totally Not Evil Overlord of Task Force Atlas

Member of The Council of the Multiverse community. Click me to find out more!

User avatar
The United Remnants of America
Post Marshal
 
Posts: 17165
Founded: Mar 09, 2013
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby The United Remnants of America » Sat Oct 25, 2014 12:19 pm

The squad moved together, the hallways where the Sentinels were seemed almost deserted, save for the bloody streaks and the occasional corpse or limb. Jolly walked near the front of the remains of the two squads. "Lennox? This is Jolly, come in. We're on our way... Somewhere, I don't know. We need to link up. My squads have taken losses and we're low on ammo. Give us a rally point, over." Jolly shouldered his ACR and looked at his squads. The Tarzan, Ninja, and Koopa had only sidearms and looked the cleanest of them while Pollock, Guido, Oreo, and O'Malley were covered in as much gore and viscera as Jolly himself was. Jolly stopped the group with a raised fist, "Take a breather guys, let's see if we get a reply from Lennox. If not, we go topside to see what we can find, deal?" A straggle of tired affirmatives reached Jolly's ears. Other than that, it was dead silence.
By any means necessary. Call me URA
Winner of 2015 Best of P2TM Awards: Best Roleplayer - War
"I would much rather be with you than against you, you're way too imaginative."- Cafla
"URA New Confucius 2015."- Organized States
"Congrats. You just won the second place prize for Not Giving a Fuck. First Place, of course, always goes to Furry."- New Jordslag
"He's an 8 Ball, DEN. You can't deal with an 8 Ball." - Empire of Donner land
"This Rp is flexible with science and so will you." - Tagali Federation
"Unfiltered, concentrated, possibly weaponized stupidity."
Thafoo, Leningrad Union: DEAT'd for your sins.
Discord: Here

User avatar
Hurtful Thoughts
Senator
 
Posts: 4961
Founded: Sep 09, 2005
Capitalist Paradise

Postby Hurtful Thoughts » Sat Oct 25, 2014 7:06 pm

The hurti troops did not have any stinky radios to slow them down, or to hear that assistance was coming, and neither does most of the ship's crew trapped amidships, probably somewhere approaching 600 souls still desperately clinging to life in isolated pockets. Their best hope was to sit and wait, knowing full well everyone sick, dying, and wounded would be coming to their position looking for help.

Even then, they could see a small remnant of ATLAS coming in, shouting profusely that they were friendlies as infected were close to their heels, the fighting-withdrawal laid-down withering covering-fire as the Golden Legion managed to duck into the lockers and begin arming themselves. Phil then addressed Kayora as she tried to check-over the newcomers for any signs of infection or other traumatic injury. The news from their radioman was pretty grim, other smaller pockets of ATLAS did in fact exist, but were too pinned-down to reach them. The thought of panic-stricken sailors trying to make it to their current position -only to find it completely deserted- would be without hope of survival. She patched into the PA-system, again temporarily suspending Sunny's automated warnings.

"Kayora again. Have linked-up with Golden Legion troopers, making way for primary backup armory, via belowdecks, topside, X1J."

She then looked at the soldiers. "Take everything. Leave nothing. We'll need it." It was the only advice she gave before moving-out to relieve the other six Hurti Marines, passing word that they were moving-out, and so to grab an overload of kit. Kayroa herself had not only her pistol in tis holster, but both the R-8 in her hands and model 416 slung on her back, plus an Emmerian SMG... looked 10mm; funny how they never bothered much with pistol/SMG commonality, must make situations like this a pain in the arse.
Last edited by Hurtful Thoughts on Sat Oct 25, 2014 7:07 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Factbook and general referance thread.
HOI <- Storefront (WiP)
Due to population-cuts, military-size currently being revised

The People's Republic of Hurtful Thoughts is a gargantuan, environmentally stunning nation, ruled by Leader with an even hand, and renowned for its compulsory military service, multi-spousal wedding ceremonies, and smutty television.

User avatar
Firewind
Envoy
 
Posts: 288
Founded: Aug 04, 2014
Ex-Nation

Postby Firewind » Sun Oct 26, 2014 3:33 pm

Ready Room, E.S.S. Revelation

When the alarms started blaring, the Blackguard members looked around in surprise. This place was supposed to be safe, and they had only arrived an hour ago. "Well what a coincidence." Neil Lamber whispered, mostly to himself. "Okay troops, we're here, stranded on the ocean, with only our wits and our knives. Seeing as most of our stuff is in the nearest armory, and we haven't a clue what's going on, best to stay here for now." This from the newly appointed Major Halfey. "Anyone have a handheld?" Someone shouted from the crowd. There were a good thirty troops in the room, more than double the largest team size any of them had been in before. "I've got one." Mark Nabb said, holding it up. Just then, a large metal door slammed over the door to the ready room.

"Well now we don't have much of a choice about staying here, do we?" Lamber asked. "Just the opportunity to sit on our butts till this blows over. Tune that radio, find out what's going on." Nabb complied, tuning the radio across the frequencies.

"This is Lt. William Lennox, of the Emmerian Naval STIGRU Unit, any force on this frequency, respond and give your location; STIGRU Personnel are onboard at... Right Sector. Any Atlas Personnel in Right Sector, please respond, give coordinates."


"What sector are we in?" One of the troops said. Lamber didn't know his name, not having fought with this particular soldier before. "No idea." "What's with the doors?" "No idea." "Anyone have a gun?" "Yeah, me and Freddy have our trusty sidearms here." "What happened to no guns allowed in debriefing?" "Calm down, everybody! We'll get out of here eventually!" The voice came over everyone else. Lamber looked to the speaker. It was Major Halfey. So the new CO could speak as well as lead.

"This is the 13th Naval Kommandos, we are trapped at Bulkhead Number 213, we require assistance to get through the doorway!"


"Dammit, whoever's in there, hold out as long as you can!"


Everyone looked to Nabb. "What's happening out there?" "Try calling in." Lamber said, moving over to sit next to Nabb. They were interrupted by pounding on the door. The soldiers near the door, acting on instinct, pulled out their combat knives and moved into position. The two with sidearms pulled them out and aimed towards the door. "Whoever's out there, state your intentions!" Lamber called, from the other side of the room. More pounding. "Tell us what's going on out there at least!" No voices, just pounding. It didn't stop. After a full minute of every holding their breath, the pounding died down a little. "What's going on out there?" Lamber whispered to Nabb. "Let's find out." As he raised the radio to his face, someone else called.

“Hello. Is anyone else alive out there? This is the Platinum Soldiers, we’re inside the tertiary backup armory. Judging by live video from the hallway outside, there are too many zombies here for us to break out safely without support, so we could use a hand. Is anyone there? Hello?”


"Did he say something about zombies?" Lamber asked, after a stunned silence. "Yeah, I think he did." Someone else said, equally stunned. "Well if there are zombies, then we have three options. Either we hide in here until everything is clear, or they break in here and we all die, or we find a way out there and start killing them!" The man named Freddy shouted. Almost as soon as he finished, the pounding on the door started anew. "That's the zombies, isn't it?" "Yeah, it must be." "And idea how to kill them?" "Well, I don't know if the movies have any reality in them, but if they do, aim for the head. They only stop if you incinerate them or destroy their brains, and we don't have any flamethrowers." "We only have knives. It won't be enough to pierce the skull." "Then cut off their heads! Should work just as well. Probably." "Alright, so we know how to fight them." Lamber said. "But how are we going to get out of here?" "Simple. We call for help." Nabb said, raising the radio again.

"This is private Mark Nabb of the Firewind Blackguard. We are trapped in a debriefing room somewhere, but we don't know exactly where. There are zombies at the door, and even though an emergency door is in place, we're not sure how long it will last. I repeat, this is private Mark Nabb of the Firewind Blackguard calling for assistance...
[Firewind roleplaying stats]
[Tech level MT]

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