Project Warfighter: Tactical Convention (IC)

[New Emmerian Coalition]

E.S.C. Revelations, International Waters, The Freed Lands

"Our own personal Thermopylae."

The Rangers moved swiftly, a blur to the eyes of their opponents. Rain trickled off their helmets, and which each step they took, more soaked their bloodied uniforms. Ira was the first in the formation, moving through trees and brush smoothly, not missing a single step. The OpFor were hesitant, panicking as the predator's moved closer. A cold sweat moved down the lead's neck, as he aimed his rifle forward. Then, he saw it. Two bright green orbs in the dark. He opened his mouth to scream, his finger squeezing the trigger, before he was silenced. Pop! Pop! His lifeless body fell to the jungle floor, his rifle letting off a burst as it smashed into the ground. The other men turned quickly, their eyes widened, their psyche shattered. It all happened in the blink of an eye. A green trail was all that remained of his attacker. More flashes erupted from the brush, as more of the OpFor dropped to the ground. Two of the last men stood still, awaiting their chance to escape. One looked to his partner, shaking, his rifle held up to the trees. Within a moment, he was cut down as well. Fearing this was his last chance, the final man smashed the trigger, unleashing a volley of hellfire into the jungle. Once he heard a click, he tossed it into the direction of the last flashes, and took off on a mad dash. He came upon a small hut, lit by the burning embers of a torch. Relieved to have reached it, he let out a small sigh...his final breath. As he dropped to the ground, he saw them. A group of phantoms emerging from the woodlands. His vision turned to black....

"Dammit Eckhart, I almost had him!" Ira pulled the wires out of his arms and chest. "You didn't even double tap." He stood from the V.R. chair, stretching and letting out a loud yawn. "Jesus, these things take it out of ya." He muttered. He surveyed the room, a group of ordinary Garrison Infantry stepping out of sweat-soaked seats in front of him. Their eyes were widened, they were barely breathing. "What?" Ira looked at one. "Never do V.R. before?" He smiled.
"Hell no!" One of them called, breathing deeply. "You guys didn't give us a chance!" He clutched his chest, falling back into the seat once more. "The Hell was in those?"
"Relax, it wasn't real." Eckhart said, standing from the chair and lighting a cigarette. "Though the way you were screaming surely made it seem that way." He grinned.
"What the f**k was I supposed to do?! You were shooting at us!" The grunt yelled, stopping to catch his breath once more. "I didn't know it was supposed to hurt that badly, otherwise I'dda never signed up for this sh*t."
"That is why you'll never be one of us, kid." Ira looked at him. "You didn't even pay attention to the briefing, I betcha signed up just'a impress one of your lady friends, eh? 'Look at me, I beat a buncha rangers in V.R. Huurrrr.'' Bullets are supposed' a hurt."

The grunt didn't respond, he simply raised a fist before being restrained by one of his buddies. They knew when to shut up. Eckhart raised and eye at him as he was pulled out, growing his anger even more. He couldn't help but breaking out into laughter after the kid was pulled through the doors. He tossed the Cigarette onto the floor, and snuffed it with his boot. Wiping a tear from his eye, he looked at Grayson's pod. He was just sitting there, chugging a canteen like there was no tomorrow. Before he could say something snarky, he was cut off by the ship's deafening P.A. system. A simple 'All hands on deck' message pre-recorded by the Captain himself. Something special was happening. With a simple gesture, Eckhart commanded his men to the upper deck to see what the commotion was about, though he had an idea already.

Today was the beginning of the first annual Tactical Convention, when Tier One operatives from around the world gathered for an extended period of time to participate in joint-training operations together. They were going to utilize the V.R. simulators aboard the Revelation, a luxury known only to top-tier operators from around the world. V.R. Training was the pinnacle of real time simulation. It provided trainees with a taste of actual combat, complete with all the emotions, pain, and discomfort that war brought with it. While not fully utilized for average infantry, Special Forces operators often find themselves training in V.R. Simulators for the longer periods of their tours. A variety of different combat scenarios can be programmed into a V.R. Op, including many from an operator's past. Some examples include famous incursions into enemy territory, and even modifications, eliminating asymmetrical warfare from some operations, and replacing the OpFor with a formidable force, rather than a band of poorly-armed militia fighters. However, the toll on the body is often severe in most cases of V.R. simulations, and many operatives need a day of rest following a prolonged V.R. session. Once, however, and Operator has taken part in enough sessions, their body grows used to the toll. This convention would truly bring out the Warfighter in each of the attendees.

Ira made his way onto the massive deck of the Revelation super carrier. Massive deck guns lined the perimeter of the ship, and multiple advanced F-21 fighters sat across the main landing strip. Phalanx Guns rested near the main command area, protecting it from projectile attacks, while Hexagonal patterns across the ship blurred it on radars, and disabled torpedoes. It was a rose, adorned with sharp thorns. Eckhart and Grayson followed, stepping onto the wet deck as they looked into the rising sun. Very soon, the first batch of Operators would arrive on deck to be briefed on the next few weeks in the Convention. One of their newer teammates, SSgt. Alice Black, sat leisurely atop of one of the deck guns. She was to assist in preparing the various V.R. Operations, though currently, she was just laying around, waiting for something to do. A M8-R Compact Variant was slung across her shoulder, and she smoked a cigarette while staring into the ocean.


The deck rumbled as a large military helicopter approached. She spat the cigar off the side of the bow, and jumped off the deck gun. She passed by Ira and Eckhart, both grinning as she attempted to make herself look decent at least, brushing her dark red hair out of her face, and chewing on a large stick of peppermint gum.
"Shut it, Decker." She grunted as she passed him. He couldn't help but laugh a little bit more. Alice put on her best smile, and stood up straight as the Helicopter began descending. It was a strange sight for the other Garrison Infantry and Navy personnel aboard the Revelation, a female soldier in Ranger MPAT fatigues. She snapped her attention towards two soldiers snapping pictures with their phones, scaring them off. She smirked.

"I'm gonna enjoy this." She said.


Ira looked at his two comrades.
"You know how 300 Spartans took on thousands of Persians?" He started. "Well...there are only three of us. And who knows how many others are attending this event. I have a feeling..."
"This is gonna be our own little Thermopylae." Grayson said.
"Yup." Eckhart said. "And I'm going to enjoy every damned second."

The Helicopter carrying the Operators touched surface of the carrier, and the pilot opened the chassis holding the operators.

(OOC: I was doing this on my region's forum, and I transferred it to NS. Don't mind small errors.)

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[Die Erworbenen Namen]

The men had only been given a day to prepare themselves for the trip. One day to pack everything they would need, hop on a helicopter, and depart the Vladimir, the SS Aircraft Carrier that was in the vicinity, touring around. To most men, it would be a pain, and nearly impossible. But for the SS, it was a daily thing. Constantly, day after day, they would only have 24 hours to prepare, and rarely would it be too little, for they were among the top trained soldiers in the world.

Now, they were being sent to prove their worth in virtual combat with the rest of the world's best. And for the glory of the Emperor, they were certainly going to do their very best, for surrender wasn't a word they knew well enough to use to describe them. On board the helicopter were three men, and three very well known men. They went as follows: Captain Rogers, Corporal Barbara, and Private Johnson of the SS.

Slowly, the helicopter descended to the deck of the ship, the blades whirring. Slowly, one by one, they stood up, weapon in hand, and walked out onto the friendly, but unknown, ship, each man his own guard, for if they needed guards, they weren't SS.

The first man out was Captain Rogers. While some referred to him as Mr. Rogers, he wasn't anything like the famous TV show. He wore a large, flowing, black trench coat that went down to his ankles, flapping in the wind. Around his ankles were two black combat boots, which gripped the deck like glue. Tucked into those boots were the combat pants that had padding on the thigh, and then, his shirt. As he normally liked it, the trench coat was open, the military uniform showing underneath. On the chest, on the right, was the SS symbol, and the unit: Command. On his left, his rank. His epaulets were black, and had a white star on the top, which meant Captain.

On top of his head was a black pointed cap with the double headed eagle, holding the SS lightning bolts. Surrounding it was white piping, which added to the style. On his face was a pair of black aviators, and in his mouth was a cigar. He looked ready for battle. The others looked the same, but had their coats buttoned, and berets on, with no cigar.

"Hello there."

[Paddy O Fernature]

To say the least, for most people, the prospect of deploying from a Navel Special Warfare Submarine in the middle of an ocean, to await recovery by an unknown military with whom little prior contact has been made, for a flight to an undisclosed location to compete in a new form of training simulation would have been a rather daunting prospect.

For the lucky few men and women who made up Paddy's Special Operations Groups, it was just another Tuesday morning.

The four members that made up SFOD-A, now quietly sat in the rear of the New Emmerian Coalition helicopter as it made it's way through the calm and clear air toward it's destination. The individual members of the team kept to themselves for the duration of the flight, barely even making eye contact with the cluster of other soldiers who's company they now found themselves in. However, one man from the group was quietly observing the scene around him.

The NCO in charge of the detachment, a average sized fellow who's piercing and commanding gaze was currently hidden behind a pair of tinted and stylish shades, shifted in his seat as he adjusted the camouflaged boonie hat on his bald head to allow a better view of the compartment and it's current occupants. Even in the dimly lighted interior, it was blatantly obvious, almost flamingly so, that a group of men sitting near the exit were fascists of some sort. The man laughed under his breath as he eyeballed their stereotypical garb, and wondered if these government types got a bulk order discount from using the same Wehrmacht wholesaler, as they all dressed pretty much the same.

His watchful gaze next fell upon a group of people sitting across from the fascists. These men were wearing some soviet styled uniforms, and were using what appeared to some newer soviet styled gear and equipment. He scoffed slighted when he noticed a crude skull stitched across the balaclava of one of the men, and he wondered what motivated these Communists to do this, if it was rule of cool or some sort of lazy intimidation factor. It was then that he about did a double take when he realized that the Fascists and Communists were sitting side by side in the helicopter, and laughed quietly to himself at the irony of it all. He wondered what both groups would think, if they knew that at his nations regional headquarters, the captured banners of many a Communist and Fascist Nation stood on display, as silent witnesses to the atrocities of many a foreign war.

A sudden jolt of turbulence brought his thoughts back into focus, as the helicopter began it's descent. Glancing out a nearby window, he realized that they were still over the ocean, and that no landmass was visible at this time. Only one logical conclusion crossed his mind.

"Carrier" Mouthed the man sitting next to him as he pointed down the center isle toward the helicopters cockpit with a gloved hand. Out the front canopy, the massive form of the ship could already be seen, as it made it's way through the dark and cold waters of the unknown ocean. A cold smile crept across the mans face at the thought of putting a next gen VR simulation on a carrier instead of a land instillation nestled away somewhere remote. The thought certainly never would have crossed his mind, as to him it seemed like an awfully expensive risk putting all your eggs in one basked, but then again, this was the first time he was attending this type of virtual training before.

"First time for everything.." he muttered to nobody in particular as the hull lurched slightly as the wheels made touchdown on the metallic decking of the carrier. The group of men quickly gathered up several pelican cases containing there gear and followed the fascists, and a thick cloud of cheap cigar smoke, out the doorway and onto the deck. A slight wind, usually present on carriers, blew about the mens faces and brought the distinct salt smell of the ocean to their attention, as with the rest of the usual smells present on an active carrier.

The group of men pulled their gear off to the side, out of the way of the flight line, and assessed their situation. They were supposed to make contact with a Sergeant Black, female type, and it wasn't long before she was spotted as she made her way toward the groups of men and women dismounting from the helicopter on deck.

"Standby lads, as I make first contact." said the senior NCO to his group before he turned briskly on his heel and firmly made his way toward the female who was now in the AO.

"Sergeant Black I presume?" he said as he stood in a casual stance next to her. He eyeballed the carbine slung over her shoulder, and wondered to himself just how secure this ship really was if it's personal were walking around armed on it's deck. At least she remembered to safety it he thought to himself as he smiled, waiting for a response.

[Bratislavskaya]

Silently, the four Spetsgruppa Prizak operatives sat in the helicopter; talking was not part of the job. Prior to this the men had spent 4 hours on a plane from Bratislavskaya before getting on the helicopter, but that was fine with these men.

The Bratislavskayan C.O. ,Sergeant Anton Pavlov, a man of medium height, strong build, bold with a flat jaw wearing a pair of shooting glasses and a Spetsnaz red beret; thoughtfully studied the men in the helicopter. Immediately in front of them was the "SS". Living up to their name these men looked like Nazi's down to the black jackboots and trench coats. To the right of them sat the "SOF-A". They looked like pretty standard western special ops: Boone hats, Sunglasses, Name tags and the like. A "SOF-A" man was looking at him. He nodded and carried on looking around. Suddenly he realized the helicopter was landing. He looked out the window and saw that they were descending onto the deck of an aircraft carrier. "Right the grab your stuff Comrades" he said in his low, emotionless, voice. He waited for the other two groups to leave and the hopped of the helicopter, his men following him. He adjusted his uniform and beret and his men did the same, except Junior Sergeant Novikov who was wearing his skull balaclava and a pair of aviator glasses; he remained silent and just fondled his pistol holster like he always did.

After shaking hands with Sergeant Black, all three groups, and the E.S.F.R.T 001 who had just landed in a separate helicopter, arguing, moved along. After making their way through the ship, the skeptical operators were given injections before moving down to the briefing area.

[Erquin]

Unknown body of water, 6:45 PM
" So, captain! What is this virtual reality bulls***?! " yells Pier Hyijia, the SAW handler of the team, blaring over the helicopters roaring engines, " We're showing those other nations that Erquin has some real firepower in V.R so we don't look like a tiny, untrained nation in the art of warfare! " answers Hamman Ohvar, the captain who's arrogant about his plan's, while the 2 other members of the warfighter are looking at something on Yuptins laptop " Hahaha! This guy sucks at ha----! Hey! That hurt! ", as he is smacked in the head by female member Jupi Ohei, who has her rifle next to her, " He's doing pretty well in my eyes! Stop being so bias, Yuptin, just because you devoted half your lifetime and got military training on hacking doesn't mean that people who didn't are complete losers! ". In the distance, the V.R ship comes into view, with the large chopper making its way to the ships landing deck for large helicopters, where the pilot almost hits the control tower with his blade. Inside, the team gets their duffelbags and leap out quite nimbly, with Yuptin almost making a perfect face plant on the floor, " Ha! That's what you get Yuptin! Hahahaha! " snickers Jupi, who gets cursed at by the young Yuptin Juhad " Damn you Jupi! Don't laugh! I could've cracked open my skull! " " I would very much like tha-- " " SHUT UP THE BOTH OF YOU! " yells Hamman, who is quite annoyed by the 2 members fighting, " We're a team, a team doesn't fight eachother! We fight the enemy! ". As the team gets inside, and the door shuts behind them, all the team can hear is the ambient sound of the waves hitting the ship and the quiet chatter of 2 people in a maintenance room, who are apparently checking on a peculiar set of gauges and meters, " Isn't that supposed to be closer to the bridge or whatever its tracking? " asks Pier, who gets an answer " This may be the maintenance sector of the ship or something, but I see our quarters straight ahead " answers the captain, who speeds up, basically saying he's tired and would really like to just hug the mattress of his bunk. As the captain opens the quarters, he immediately drops his duffelbag and rifle and dives for the bed, unfortunately hitting his head on the metal wall, with a crew member of the ship laughing. " Awww god, this hurts! But who cares?! I need sleep! " says the tired captain, who then rotates his body and gets a pillow, to sleep like a little dog on its owners bed. With other members watching, Yuptin makes a suggestion " I think we should do the same, since Im guessing this V.R simulation is going to drain a lot of energy from us " who then yawns after, and goes to his bunk, to go to sleep. As he does, Pier and Jupi look at each other, telling themselves " He's actually got a point for once! ", where Pier gets a little book and reads on his bunk, which has a lamp. Jupi, on the other hand, slides out a computer from her duffelbag, which she places on a desk and starts a little diary on her computer, and starts typing. But, before she even starts typing, she takes out another thing from her duffelbag, a chocolate bar, and she turns off the lights, in where she pulls down shutters to close the window to not allow light through, in then, her laptop is the only thing visible, making it feel very cozy in the room, apart from when Yuptin wakes up, " IS THAT MY LAPTOP!?! JUPI!!! " " It isn't you dimwit! " " WILL YOU GUYS SHUT THE HELL UP! ".

[New Emmerian Coalition]

"Welcome to the Revelation everyone!" Alice announced to the Operators. "We don't have much time to speak at the moment, you are all needed in the med-bay for nanomachine injections." She surveyed the group. It was very foreign to her, yet she recognized a few of the uniforms from the briefings. She motioned with her hand. "We can chit-chat later, but follow me. That means you too!" She looked at her teammates.

They toured the ship, Alice faintly showing it off as she was instructed in her orders, stopping at the Hydroponics bay just for a glance at the massive food growths. The ship itself was self-sustainable. Meanwhile, the Med-Bay doctors gave each Operator a syringe of temporary nano machines into their left arms, ensuring they could properly interface into the training.

---Time Skip---

"Congratulations!" Alice walked into the room. "You've all passed the first test of the entire Operation; Not killing the medical crew." She stared around the room, hoping someone would understand the reference. You could hear the crickets chirping. "Welcome to the Largest Ship in the World. Do be careful not to dirty anything during your stay, especially in your group barracks, it's Hell for the cleaning crews."

"Very well then," She stopped, and motioned towards a mini-robot in the corner of the room. A small wire protruded from it's chassis, passing her a clipboard. "Don't step on these, they're expensive." She turned to the room, and began reading off of the clipboard.

"Welcome to the first annual Warfighter Convention! My name is SSgt. Alice Black, I will be running the V.R. Simulations for you. There are a few objectives we must complete before you can begin your initiation into the amazing, and terrifying, world of V.R.!
Firstly, in the other room, you were injected with a set of Nanomachines. This is to ensure you are all able to freely experience V.R. Training, as well as avoid unnecessary illnesses and/or fatalities while inside the simulation. They will also work in conjunction with a brace that will be applied to your left arm for the duration of the tests, feeding battle-data from each Simulation into the gauntlet, and keeping record of each individual's scores." She stopped to take a breath, and motion for the small MK. III to bring her the brace. It looked odd, and had a large barcode adorning it.


"While within the V.R. Simulation, your body is kept regulated by the Nanomachines within your body. Should the need arise, they will quell your natural instincts and prevent your body from going into any form of shock, or cardiac arrest, while within the Simulation, as you will have no reclamation of ever being put within V.R. Training. To you, it will be as real as the battlefield gets. Secondly, your equipment. Each nation's camouflage pattern has been recorded and stored within the V.R. Database, directly linked to the S.O.P. System. Your nation's armor systems and weapons will be installed as well, so you need not worry about learning foreign weapons system. Armor plays a small role, as any headshot will result in immediate termination of the soldier in question, and if by random draw or penalty, a soldier's armor within the Simulation will be removed, or misplaced. For the First Simulation, Operators will be infiltrating an underground complex, where their objective will be to terminate the Military NPCs within, and the enemy teams. I will now read off the list of teams." She snapped her fingers, as another clipboard was brought to her hands. "Ehem."

"Team Alpha: SFOD-A, STIGRU
Team Bravo: Spetsgruppa Prizrak, Schuzstaffel
Team Charlie: Haven Contractors, and E.S.F.R.T. 001. " And with that, she tossed the clipboard on the table infront of her, and motioned to a large amount of strange chairs that lined the room.
"These are the V.R. Sims. You will sit in one, get comfy, and be initiated into the progam. I am the V.R. Tech for this run, and we're bringing in an expert from Samarkend, who will ensure none of what occurs is biased towards STIGRU or Team Alpha." She peered towards the STIGRU Operatives in the room. "Nobody will get special treatment; Friendly Fire, attempting to travel outside mission parameters, and self-termination all count as a penalty, and will effect your ENTIRE team the next round."

The MK. III poked her. It passed another clipboard. "Sh-...Ehem"
"During the course of the Simulations, there will be perks granted to the winning teams. These perks range from unmanned vehicles and temporal quadrotor support, to an Airstrike by Apex A-23 Aircraft. Note, certain perks are excluded from certain Areas of Operation, and will be explained to the Operators within the V.R. Rooms where they will be allowed to prepare for the Operation ahead of them. Do take the time to read up on these perks. One final subject; SimPoints. SimPoints are given to both teams, in greater quantity to the winners and lesser to the losers, and will be used to purchase said perks pre-match. Use of Powerful Perks is detracted from final scores, while use of none is added as extra to the score. SimPoints may also be used to purchase non-perk equipment, such as OctoCamo, and High Powered Weaponry, not limited to Anti-Material Rifles, to give your Team an edge in a certain Operation. I.E., Purchasing a satchel of RPGs and a Launcher before a match with vehicles involved, may assist your team in the arena." And she tossed the clipboard down.

"Any questions?" She asked, Eckhart raising his hand. "Yes?"
"The NPCs, who are they, and what nation of origin are they?" He grinned, knowing Alice was just trying to get through the introduction as fast as possible. "And I believe that information was in the first clipboard you tossed."

"Enemy NPCs are based off of real-world soldiers. However, they are a nameless army, colored in appropriate non-surplus BDUs and equipment for each destination. They are of Tier-One Level, just as you. Do NOT underestimate them."

"Any other Questions?" She surveyed the room.

[Die Erworbenen Namen]

"Yes, I do have one." Rogers said, raising his hand. He cracked his knuckles and smiled. There was a perk to being the best. But, he hoped he would win. Hell, he almost knew he would win. Except for the fact that the room was full of Elites that were the equivalent, if not more, of the Spetznaz Navy Division in the Empire. How lovely. He just loved fighting equals. "Am I going to be kicked if I douse the enemy with Mustard Gas grenades? Also, will we be using our native weaponry?"

While they were proficient in nearly any type of weaponry, they always preferred using their own. For instance, while there may be a better SMG out there, they will only use it if they have to, and very rarely does anyone prefer those to their own weaponry. It was just because they trusted their own weapons so much. That, and they knew they were very well made, and used specific rounds that couldn't be used again.

[Bratislavskaya]

Anton raised his hand and said :"I also have a question Comrade, will the weapons be our own personal weapons or just the same type?"

The reason he wondered was because of the slight modifications that they had made to their weapons: Custom optics, custom magazines, slight adjustments to the trigger, and the other items that made a operator more comfortable with the weapon.

[Erquin]

Captain Ohvar raises his hand, it being small, " Ehhhmmmmm, exactly how realistic is this "simulation" going to be? For some reason I feel you have like some kind of... Pain simulation kind of thing don't you? " asks the captain, him in his large BDU and turtle neck. " This simulation will probably blow our wits off Ohvar " says Hyijia, who still has bags under his eyes, with his habit. Most spec ops units in the Erquinian Special Forces are trained to work a lot at night, making them go out in the dark more often and thus getting bags under their eyes very commonly, and because of this, Pier scoured the decks of the ship during the night when people were sleeping, only he's quite bad in the dark, when he fell off the command tower of the revelation, so no wonder why there was a slight bang on one of the command cupolas during the night shift.

Flashback, Last night
" So, I say " B**** please, I have a bigger house then yours. " and then he says... ", DONG! " What the hell was that skipper? " asks the storytellers partner, who gets a pistol out, " Probably Julian trying to scare us by throwing down one of those boxes with whatever he stuffs in it down here to scare us. ". During this statement, unknowingly, the said " box " was actually Hyijia, Pier, and he starts groaning " Arrrggggghhhh, that damn hurt, what the hell..... ". He got away with nobody noticing, but he had a sore leg and chest, as well as alittle lack of sleep.

[Paddy O Fernature]

Underground Complex.

As soon as these words were muttered to the cluster of assembled bodies, a inaudible sigh escaped from the grizzled faces of the native Paddies. This would not be the first time that these men had willingly descended into the close confines of a subterranean hell. Most of the assembled group still bared both the physical and emotional scars earned in Operation Swift Wind, where post war GEIJD D.U.M.B complexes were cleared of hostile forces in tense room to room actions as part of a massive manhunt to bring GEIJD leadership to justice.

As the female speaker continued with her little speech, already the cogs of war were turning inside the team leaders head as he mentally went over the possibilities of what might be encountered in the coming scenario. The one thing that was troubling him however, was the lack of information being put out about the upcoming scenario. As it stood currently, he and his men had pretty much zero intelligence information to go on, other then that it was a S&D operation in a unknown sized subterranean complex, against an unknown sized and equipped enemy force, with a third party hostile unit operating independently in the AO with the same general goals as himself as a twist. He and his men had been thrown into some less then stellar missions before with hardly any intel to go on, but this whole damned mission just screamed of plot twist going south so strongly,that you could almost taste it.

"Any other Questions?" asked the Staff Sergent, who was standing in front of the assembled group as she calmly looked around to room.

A few of the other groups asked various questions about this and that, none of which really concerned him as in his eyes. That is, until one of the fascists openly and bluntly started asking about the penalty of using chemical weapons in the event. Looking around him at the other Paddies, all four men shared a slight chuckle at the goose steppers expense.

"Apparently, someone forgot to inform him of the concept behind Opsec..." whispered the man refereed to as "Spook" to the muscular lad sitting next to him, who was leaned back in his chair with his thick arms crossed over his chest. The large lad just rolled his eyes back, as he shook his head slightly back and forth in agreement.

The group leader had no real questions of the Staff Sergent, and calmly just sat with the rest of his men, and lost himself to mentally going over possible operational proceedings.

[New Emmerian Coalition]

Alice looked to the S.S. unit.

"There is a set of weapons available to each unit at the start of each engagement; chemical weapons are not listed." Then she turned her attention to the Spetzgruppa. "A variety of customization will be available to you and your unit, and can be done as easily as the push of a button." Then she heard the E.R.F.R.T. speak, and she pointed to them. "I'm glad you asked!"

A Mark III rode up to her, with a clipboard. "Ehem!"

"The pain you feel in the Simulation is certainly real. You will not realize you are within a simulation, however the nanomachines in your blood prevent any form of harm to your physical body. While within the Simulation, the situation is real to you, you will not remember the V.R. simulation, you will only remember the briefing within the first V.R. room. You will feel your wounds, you will feel hunger and thirst, if need be, and you will feel weary. Do not panic nor fear it, accept it and complete your operation."

STIGRU began standing, and almost like bored school-children, made their way to the V.R. chairs. They hooked up in the background while Alice explained.

"You will place these small suctions onto your arms, legs, and chest. You will place your left arm the brace on the pod, and you will lay back onto the padding. From here, you'll be initiated." She held her arms out to the sides of the room.

"Alright boys, let's do this!" And the STIGRU members synched into a briefing room.

It was white, with hexagonal patterns adorning it. There was a single doorway, however it was blocked off. Weapons aligned the wall, with various attachments available and a video-game esc interface with caliber, ammunition, etc. Tactical gear appeared on small V.R. dummies behind them, with MOLLE pouches and various magazines for them to customize their loadouts. They were already in their standard Gen 3 BDUs, so they simple attached their pouches, added Hydration, and slid their AR-350 Plates into the plate bags on the armor chassis. They attached the Solid Eye to their ballistic helmets, and awaited Alice's briefing. Eckhart loaded his M8-R, and nodded to the rest of the team, silent under their balaclavas.

S.O.P. initiated, and they were ready to get onto the field.

[Bratislavskaya]

The four Spetsnaz operatives found themselves in a white room with hexagonal patterns on the walls. Lining the walls was their equipment and weapons. Quickly Anton said "Ready up Comrades", and at that they donned their equipment and took their weapons. They were wearing a TTsKO pattern uniform, in urban colours, and over that went the green combat equipment. Next were the weapons. Anton and Arkadi took AK-12 Assault rifles. Anton fitted his with a Holographic sight and a 2x magnifier, a folding fore-grip and a 60 round drum mag, filling his mag pouches with standard magazines. Arkadi fitted his with a Kobra red dot sight and a grenade launcher. Dima took a SV-98 Sniper rifle. He fitted it with a 6x magnification scope, a set of canted iron sights and a bipod. Genedy took a PP-19 and put on a kobra red dot sight. They grabbed quick attachable suppressors for all their weapons. The men four put on their skull balaclavas. and three of them put on the large titanium helmets, symbolic of Spetsnaz troops, leaving the visors folded up. Dima left only his skull balaclava on, as to not interfere with his rifle. All four men then took OTs-33 pistols and put 27 round mags in them, and placed them in holsters. They were now ready for combat.

[Paddy O Fernature]

After the briefing, the group of men were lead over to a cluster of extended and padded chairs that were lined against the back wall, and quickly informed of the steps necessary to use the VR interface. The four men quietly shed their blouses and trousers down to their Under Armour shorts and t shirts, before sitting themselves comfortably on the black cushioning lining the stations. They quickly attached what looked to be EKG pads on about a dozen places on their bodies, in accordance with prior instructions, and placed a uncovered left arms through a circular device on the side of the station that looked vaguely similar to a automatic BP Cuff.

The man known as "Godfather" glanced to his left and right after properly securing himself in the device, and waiting for a thumbs up from each member of his unit signalling that they were ready to begin. Leaning back in his station, he took a deep, relaxing breath as he closed his eyes and attempted to prepare himself for what he was about to experience.

A few moments later, the man opened his eyes and found himself no longer in metallic confines of the carrier, but standing in some sort of staging area reminiscent of a video game armory, with a white hexagonal pattern covering the span of it. Godfather stood there for a moment, as he attempted to take it all in. He man was accustomed to virtual simulators back in his homeland, but this... this was something completely different in just about every sense of the word.

His attention was brought back to "reality" when the sound of a hard stomp followed by a muffled cry of discomfort reached his ears. Godfather turned around and saw the burly man known as "Hulk" leaning against a wall and rubbing his foot that was raised up off the ground with his off hand. Apparently, the man just couldn't resist the urge to stomp his own foot in an attempt to "test" just how good the experience was going to be.

Much to the amusement of the others in the room.

Godfather, with a smile still on his face, then walked over to what appeared to be a terminal access point of some sort near the wall. He lightly tapped the touch screen display, and started thumbing through equipment options. After a few short moments familiarizing himself with the system, he was ready to start, for lack of a better term, spawning in equipment for his men. The other three men lined up in sequence, like they had done countless times before at their host unit, for a arms room draw. Up first, was the man named "Hulk".

Hulk could be considered a big man by many people standards, though not so much that he looked like the poster child for steroid injections. He was a slightly larger man, at just over six feet tall, with a very athletic build which was the result of countless hours a week in the unit's gym. The man has a saying, that his body was the ultimate weapon, and just like any other weapon system, it needed proper maintenance to insure peak performance when needed. His physical conditioning, was one of the driving reasons why the man was chosen to partake in SOG "Suppression Specialist" program, as the job entitlement required extra physical demands.

"Sorry Lad, but due to the nature of the mission, I'm afraid that "Rosa" is going to have to be left in the rear with the other gear this time out, as her increased bulk and noise generation will be counterproductive to mission parameters." said Godfather, referring to the Hulc suit for which the man got his punny nickname from.

With a few taps of the screen, the mans normal load out of equipment was generated in a neat little pile for him to collect. His primary weapon was further modified, by changing out the collapsible wire stock with a smaller lightweight compact collapsible one, the barrel length was shortened for greater maneuverability in close confines, a Ergonomic canted forward grip was added for ease of handling, and a TechGem Suppressor was threaded onto the barrel for a nearly 40dB reduction in perceived report. For optics, he added a generic red dot compatible with a thermal. He calmly stepped forward, gathered his things, and moved out of the way to start gearing up, letting the next man in line, "Spook" to step forward.

Spook was the groups precision specialist, who spent more time then any sane person should have alone operating in foreign shitholes around the globe. Which, thanks to his partial loner style personality, he didn't find his current position to be very off putting. Spook was a pretty average person of average height and build, however inwardly he was a passionately driven individual with nerves to spare who could be counted on to keep his cool in even the most heated of situations.

"No further modifications needed for you lad." Said Godfather who quickly spawned in his gear. Spook stepped forward, gathered his things, and moved out of the way to start gearing up, letting the next man in line, "Hammer" to step forward.

In most units, Hammer would have been considered a "demolitions" guy. However, in this unit, the former athletic player turned soldier tended to be viewed as a man who liked to leave his permanent mark on the world. Hammer first found his love for explosives, during Operation Swift Wind, where he found a morbid comfort and reassurance in the dust raising concussion every time an explosive rocked and enemy position, clearing it with recon by fire. Since then, he and his Xm25 have been practically inseparable on the battlefield.

"Don't worry Hammer, I'm sure the locals took good care of The Punisher while they were scanning it for upload into the VR sim." said Godfather with a reassuring smile.

"Fucking damned well better have, my baby don't like strangers finger banging her." said Hammer as he casually stretched his arms behind back.

"I'm sure. Now, due to the nature of the mission, I'm going to load in a variety of ammunition to better suite projected needs for this OP. I also am going to replace your side arm with a PDW version of the Ripper. Little extra weight over the Glock, but the increased firepower and range should come in handier this OP." Hammer nodded in agreement, and gathered his belongings when they spawned in.

Lastly, it was Godfathers turn. Easily the most veteran member of the team, the leader of this detachment was a slightly older fellow, with grey just beginning to show in his beard. His shaved head, which he kept covered most times, bore the scars of a thermal burn from when his vehicle took a direct hit and rolled on a recovery mission deep into Free Missourian territory in what now seemed to be ages past. He had tried to transfer to the Nations Officer School once, while he was still on active. However, he was offered a position in one of only two cycles launched each year for Special Operations training, and he accepted the invitation without hesitation.

He selected his traditional load out from the list of available gear, and spawned it in front of him. While not as combat focused as some other builds, his was more suited for the role of mobile command and control, as in the end, it was his responsibility for keep all his pieces in play, and make informed decisions on the fly. As he was gathering up his things, his thoughts were interrupted by Hulk, who was kneeling nearby and making adjustments to his gear where needed.

"Make a decision yet, on what type of ammunition were going to be using for this mission Top?"

"Yeah, you could say that." he replied as he lifted his vest over his head and let it fall comfortably onto his shoulders. "Since we don't know what type of personnel are going to be on the ground, we can assume that at least some of them are going to be armed security with hardened plates mixed in with unarmored targets. Since we need a round that is going to be equally effective in quickly dealing with these targets, as well as possibly dealing with any third parties that try to get in our way that are sure to be armored, we will be using the AP-C rounds for this mission."

All three men nodded in agreement, and proceeded to make sure that steps were taken to protect themselves from possible self contamination from the ammunition. While the rounds themselves were incredibly stable, meaning that the jacket had to be penetrated to be exposed to the deadly contents within, accidents did and could happen on the battlefield. Within a few short minutes, the men were conducting final checks on themselves and their squad mates.

This group of hell raisers, were ready to start the exercise.

[Erquin]

After the little " Pre-V.R meeting", the E.S.F.R.T members go towards a room full of chairs, that are laced in wires and equipment for V.R simulation operations. Curiously, Pier starts pulling a loose wire, only to reveal it is a large bundle of wires AND it goes on for so long, so he didn't really needed to be scolded. Pier thought really hard about the V.R simulation, like what if it malfunctions, and since its in his brain or something, wouldn't it do something with the nerves that is terrible? But he digressed, for these people probably refined the simulation, and that means the simulation wont tip to fall into some digital spiky pit or some other thing. " Ohvar, how do you like the metal cast? " asks Jupi, which makes Ohvar laugh, but after a few seconds of staring into space for quite some time, Ohvar dozes off, with the other 2 members of his team.

But wait? What about Yuptin? They missed the little brat! " Oh yeah! I get to sleep on super comfy bed--- " says Yuptin when an EAF officer comes into the room. " Yuptin, why do you act like a little boy sometimes? " asks the officer, who doesn't wait for an answer, he knocks out the poor kid and brings him to justice, which be the V.R room, with a grueling face, " This kid I reckon, weighs only 98.9 pounds or something, Im not sure if its possible! " moans the grueling officer, who lays the kid down on the V.R bed, him laying there and having instruments snapped on to him against his very will. Just then, the kid wakes up only to be told to close his eyes and get ready for the V.R, " Where am I? How did the officer just karate chop me? How? " asks a confused Yuptin, with the officer laughing his head off, in which he tells Yuptin, " You were being a brat, close your eyes! ". Having to obey or leave the military, he obeys, and he gets synched into an equipment room.

" Hey Yuptin, you were late, where were you? " asks Ohvar, who "spawns" in regulatory equipment for the team, with Piers weapon being the IOL-8 MG, with a large drum magazine that holds atleast 50 rounds of ammunition. Then came the equipment, as Kevlar vests and plating came to be put onto the bodies that needed them for combat, and Yuptins particular 6 pound drone, aswell as everybodies standard equipment with rations, radios, and most importantly, electrical devices and a map. " Should I get hollow point for my IOL-8 captain? Or should I stick to tracer? " asks Pier, who is looking at 3 types of ammunition, with Hollow point, Tracer, and normal, " I say that you should get the hollow point, so we don't really have problems dealing with some things like insurgents having tankettes that only have 10mm of armor or some cover. " says Ohvar, as he puts on an iconic GP-5 gas mask to help with masking his face and being immune to tear gas and other gassy like weapons. " Should I have hollow point or heavy core ammunition? " asks Jupi, who gets a muffled answer, " Get the heavy core, the inertia will help you pierce objects and rip flesh, won't really have to always depend on headshots. " an answer from Ohvar, who then gets a little pencil and paper and starts drawing playfully, for he still has alittle bit of young Ohvar in himself, as he draws, waiting for Yuptin to finish tinkering with his drone, for Jupi to be done being " fashionable, dress to impress ", and for Pier to.... " Pier, will you just choose one type of round for the GHD-6 already? " asks Ohvar.....

[The United Remnants of America]

The four men ran nearly together through the halls, all at almost a dead sprint. They all new they were late, and Lieutenant Jolly Rogers would not have that. If only that damn chopper pilot hadn't screwed around with getting them to this Emmerian complex. But that's what happens when you put your time in the hands of an Air Force pilot. Rogers looked behind him at Koopa, Tarzan and Ninja. "Come on, you bastards! We're already late, you want them to think worse of the Remnant Rangers than they already do? Fuckin' move it!" Rogers turned his head back and concentrated on sprinting as his three soldiers followed after him.

Together the group burst through the door. The first one in wore the stripes of a URA 1st LT. His average height and frame along with his short-cropped brown hair gave him an anonymous description. The larger blond man with Slavic features stood to the 1st LT's left and wore the bars of a 2nd LT, obviously the second-in command of this squad. Behind those two stood a shorter Oriental man with longer-black hair and a single eye piece, which was the X-Comm system that all 4 operators had. Also in the back was a large man with the longest hair of the group who also had a tribal tattoo going down his arm, revealed only because of the squad's identical dark-green tee-shirts. All four men carried over-sized duffel bags with them, which they heaved as they had run. The 1st LT stepped out ahead of the other three and saluted the group in the room.

"First Lieutenant Rogers of the Remnant Rangers, First Battalion. Reporting for Simulation Duty."

[Die Erworbenen Namen]

It took an eerily long time for Roberts to gather up the courage to actually get in the chair. He had heard of VR before, but because of his old school tactics, he never used it. No doubt he'd have one hell of a headache afterwards, but for now, he'd deal with it. Slowly, he stripped off his clothes until it was just his under clothes, and sat down in the chair, shivering from the cold metal touching his skin. While there was cushioning in the chair, there were still metal parts.

After sitting in the chair, he attached the suction cups to his chest, forehead, and arms, which would monitor his vitals. Well, good, then. If he was going to die, he'd like to have at least a chance to life. As the other two men watched him, they too, got into their chairs, and all of them inserted their arms into that one circular device. So now they were hooked up to the computer, eh? Good. Everyone closed their eyes, and slowly, they began the transition.

It took a while for them to realize what had happened, but Roberts could tell. No longer was he in the metallic room of the VR chairs, but now.. Now he was inside the simulation itself. Scratching his stubble, he walked over to the terminal near the Godfather, and watched him thumb through it, per say. He took a look, and touched the screen. There it was. It had recognized who it was, and somehow gotten the information needed for his weaponry. "Hello there... So that's how it happens, eh?"

He familiarized himself with the terminal, and the first thing he did was spawn his uniform. There it was. First the black cargo pants and shirt, then the socks, then the boots, then the armor, gloves, and finally the trench coat, glasses, cap, and gas mask. The gas mask was hanging from his neck by a cord, and just for safe measure, spawned a cigar, and lit it, puffing it a little bit. He laughed when Hulk stomped his foot down.

Then he started spawning holsters, two sheaths for knives, a sheath for a sword, belts, clip cases, and canteens. After getting these situated on his and others' persons, he started scrolling through the weaponry. He picked, for himself, a DEN-SMG-2 with an extended drum clip, flash suppresser, and a holographic sight. He also spawned two bayonets, a sword, and three DEN-HG-1s: one for his ankle (without sight and laser), and two on his belt with laser and sight.

For Barbie, as everyone liked to call him, he spawned a DEN-C-2 with a holographic sight and extended mag because of the need for medium range weaponry, yet they were in close range, a DEN-HG-2, a bayonet, and a DEN-SG-1 as a backup weapon, with extended mags and bird shot.

For Johnson, he spawned a DEN-LMG-1 with a strap and the 100 round clip, a 3x sight, and a flash suppresser, a DEN-HG-1 with a sight, and a DEN-C-1 with extended clip as a backup weapon. He also spawned three grenades for every man: 1 Flashbang/Smoke, and two frags. Then came the clips, two for each gun per man, except for Johnson, who had one extra carbine clip and the one extra LMG clip.

"Well, I'm sorry, but you're gonna have to leave your Sniper Rifle behind. Johnson, you're going to have to carry that LMG around. Remember, we're close up. Keep your weapons near you, keep your feet light, and keep moving. The enemy will know who you are, but they don't know our tactics." Roberts said, and he cocked his weapon.

[The United Remnants of America]

The men slowly moved to take up four of the chairs. Rogers felt foolish for not making it exactly on time, but he hoped a late entry was alright. He waited until all three of his squad mates reported they were just about to go under and enter the VR until he himself joined it....

Jack Rogers spawned inside the VR in full MPA. His right eye was covered and obscured by his X-Comm comms system, which also acted as a HUD and tactical awareness system. On his chest where his normal name and rank would have been was only his nickname, "Jolly". Jack rolled his eyes and whispered a curse word as he continued to check himself over. He had a E-tool, for what use it'd be in a VR sim. His grenades were slung around his waist, his sidearm on his left hip, and his SMG was slung behind him with his bag. He did a quick eye motion and whispered out loud to activate his shoulder-mounted mini-missile system. The missiles stored in his launcher were graded to cause some major damage to people.

Nikolai Kovanovich spawned behind and to the right of Jolly. Across his chest was the name "Koopa." His gear loadout was nearly identical to Jolly's, but instead of an R17 rifle with holo sights, Koopa had the newer R21 rifle with an ACOG scope. Also, he had a combat shotgun slung on his back instead of a SMG. At nearly the same time as Rogers, Koopa activated his shoulder-mounted launchers, who's missiles were graded to pierce tank armor and explode, hopefully to do enough damage to disable the vehicle.

Harry Wilde appeared to the left of Rogers, R60 Flechette Launcher in hand, hopefully loaded with explosive rounds as he'd asked, and a R46 LMG slung around his back. The larger, heavier weapons stopped him from carrying a lot of the extra gear like the others. His armor, brandished with the callsign "Tarzan," was the HPA variant and was much thicker than the other two who'd spawned. strapped at various points along his armor were a couple landmines, a drone control tablet like what Jolly had, and the awesome EMAW2, a directed EMP gun that could disable electronics within a 15-meter range. That was so much better than that shitty EMAW1. Tarzan chuckled to himself as he readied up for combat.

Jung Park spawned 10 yards behind the other three, R23 Sniper Rifle in hand with a SMG around his back. Being the team sniper and stealth expert, he wore not only the LPA armor, which was made for light movement, but also the St Stealth variant. In his pack were various decoders, jammers, and other electronics that could be used fro recon and disruption. His entire armor was covered in LOOST technology, a kind of optical stealth tech that would make him near-invisible, so long as he didn't run around with it active. His face was covered with a hood and mask, so that only his left eye and the ghostly green glow of his X-Comm were visible as he crouched and his LOOST took activation and blended him into the terrain.

[New Hayesalia]

The New Hayesalian team had arrived, of course, fashionably late. About 30 minutes after the Paddy O Fernaturian SFOD-A and the SS, in their war winning camos with their game faces on and the classic black trenchcoats, a New Hayesalian Navy V-30 had touched down from a reasonably short trip from a New Hayesalian cruiser a few hundred miles away. Aboard were four members of the New Hayesalian Army’s elite unit- BASTION. Precisely the 14th Division thereof, where simple membership required a list of qualifications as long as your arm, any one of which could act as qualification to join another special forces team. This was a battalion of 1,000 men and women in a military of millions- these were the very top of the top, the crème of the crème de la crème.

As the door opened, one could expect roughcut, bearded men in combat fatigues and face masks to walk out in an arrowhead formation, guns ablazing and warfighter spirit oozing out of them. What the audience got was slightly different. The first man ff the plane was Lance Corporal Julias April, an extroverted gent with rough stubble and jet black hair, now wearing comically oversized sunglasses and a rainbow sombrero, as well as dress shorts and a red shirt saying “IRONY; THE OPPOSITE OF WRINKLY.” Of course, for safety, he still wore his issued boots.

He moved just to the side to an Emmerian sailor, slipping him 20cR and saying “Hey buddy, fair bit of stuff on that ride, you know the plan” and interrupting the seaman’s stumbling reply with “Haha, good stuff mate!” before clapping him on the back and walking off. Three more men came off the aircraft, dressed also in what appeared to be a casual Friday loadout. The exception was their commander, Lieutenant Jim Rothgow, in the standard issue Temperate camouflage fatigues, a subdued New Hayesalian patch on his left shoulder and the black and silver patch of BASTION on his right. He wore also the black beret of the Special Operations Legion, the Army cap badge dutifully attached.

While the three enlisted men mingled off to the side, looking over the deck of the huge carrier, the Lieutenant made his way to Sergeant Black. She shook the Lieutenants hand and explained some light pleasantries. With news of the briefing, Rothgow motioned to his men, tapping his head and signalling them to come to him. The New Hayesalian helicopter crew and a few Emmerian sailors were unloading the BASTION equipment as the Lieutenant looked over his shoulder.

“Vaccine party, boys?” the Lieutenant said, to the semi-fake groans of his men.

A SHORT TIME LATER, BRIEFING ROOM, REVELATION

"Congratulations!" Alice walked into the room. "You've all passed the first test of the entire Operation; Not killing the medical crew."

An uncomfortable silence ensued. As she started talking again, the red-headed Lance Corporal Chef leant slightly over to Lance Corporal April, saying “She might not be funny but I’d still do her.” He received a seedy smile and chuckle in response.

“Welcome to the largest ship in the world…”

April coughed, unmistakably sneaking in a ‘bullshit’ earning him a punch in the arm from his soldier- right at the injection site.

“This whole thing sounds like a video game.” said the Lieutenant to his Sergeant, Matt Pittison. “I think my son would cream himself if he was hearing about this.”
“How is he, anyway?”
“Turns out he is gay.”

“Any other questions?” the Emmerian Sergeant called.

The soviet-looking guy stuck his hand up, and asked about mustard gas.

“Fuckin mustard gas?” April said. “Guy looks like a fucking cyber-Lenin.”
“Probably got doused with retard gas” the Sergeant replied, drawing a small smile from Rothgow.

The SITGRU stood after another short spiel. Much to the BASTION’s surprise, they were already ready and rearing to go. The team stood as well, moving over to the point with their typical chattiness. Chef again made a crack as one of the SITGRU guys put some suction cups on him- “Gee, could take me out to dinner first ey?” earning him another punch from the Sergeant.

---

INSIDE THE SIMULATION
The BASTION troops found themselves inside the simulation- a TRON-esque setting dashed with a side of hallucination. The team were suddenly dressed in full combat gear, as they had registered in the system.

“Well lads, get your feeling around you,” called Sergeant Pittison. “we brief in two minutes.” The BASTION troops were switching on. Their chattiness and humour subsided, as they set into the minds of highly qualified, vicious special forces soldiers.

“Harbour up!” called Rothgow and his men assembled around him.

“Orders orders, this is an orders group. Chinese parliament style. Situation is: we have a deathmatch scenario here. We’re tasked to eliminate all enemy hostiles, be they the other Special Operations teams or the robot teams. Very simple. Mission is to eliminate as many as possible. Equipment is gonna be very much a close-quarter setup. Focus on eliminating the enemy with silence. In addition, this is a perfect opportunity to use ambush and trap techniques. Obviously we’re not totally aware of how this place is built. Now we’re working with the American team on this. I’m not sure how they work as operators. So going into this, here’s what I think. Low profile kit, so minimal body armour. Take off a few sections of the Chameleon. Take the Desert camo kit, because if it’s not pitch black in there it will be a yellowy-gray. I want helmets on, gas masks good to go in case some lunatic decides to throw a CS grenade. Obviously we’ll be carrying a standard outlay of grenades. One change, I want to replace our smokes with the Gay Spray. The smoke effect won’t be as impressive, but with the darkness I don’t suspect it to be an issue.”

“Weapons wise, we are going CQB. I’ll go through one by one. April, you’re still our Recon boy. Gooseneck camera should serve you well, but no UAS. Too much noise. I want you to be able to respond in an instant, so Model 12, folding stock with a flash hider and Model 13 mount. Make sure you’ve got a lot of frontal protection, just in case. Instant readiness, just in case. Model 15 on your hip. All good?”

April nodded, and his equipment was spawned in.

“Sarge.” The short blonde haired man stepped forwards. His chest seemed massive, expanding outwards as you’d expect of a man who’d spent his career lifting ammo boxes. His chin exceeded his frame, in a foghorn-leghorned look. He spoke quickly with humour, and the common use of phrases like “yeah” and “good team!”

“I’m expecting the other teams to lay traps. You and April are gonna be working tight here. When we go through somewhere, I want you to make sure we don’t set anything off. Add to that, leave us some traps. The more the merrier. In relation to small arms, I still want you to put down a wall of fire if we need it. Ripper Mk3 carbine, extended magazines and SLAP rounds, add the underbarrel 12 gauge. Work for you?”

The sergeant gave his approval to the kitting and his gear was likewise spawned in. Next up was Lance Corporal Chef, who was out of his element in a sense. He was trained in mountain warfare, in horseback operations as a radio operator. Both of which didn’t exactly apply in this scenario. “Standard issue Model 12 plus a Model 10 covering off instead of your Ripper. Sound good?”

Chef replied with a yes, and his gear was spawned in as well. Finally the Lieutenant scrolled through what was basically the Amazon.com of high end military hardware, picking and choosing all types of devices. His weapon choices included a Ripper Mk3 carbine with SLAP rounds.

A short time later, the BASTION soldiers were ready to go. They practiced a few drills for operations in tight spaces, booby trap drills and ambush drills. As the other teams acknowledged their readiness, the BASTION had outlined their plans, created a rule of engagement and had their gear in all the right spots.

[Imperial City-States]

Underground
VR room
Valkair Rangers



"Have I mentioned how much I fucking hate these things. " Leichnstien's voice echoed thoughout the VR room as the other members of his unit took seats in the VR chairs that lined the room. Next to him several Doctor's were fiddling with restraints and other interesting bits used in the VR seats.



"You sound like my damn mother-in-law. Always bitching and complaining. " Responded Steiner from across the room as he plopped into one of the chairs his armor shifting heavily as he did so.


From across the room Schweitzer chuckled as he rolled up the right sleeve of his urban fatigues.


As the Doctors walked around securing the Rangers into their VR seats Klaus Schweitzer cleared his throat.

"Alright boys pull up your HUD's and check out the briefing. " Schweitzer said in his characteristic calm and commanding voice.

As the Fire-team looked thought their briefing on their HUD's several Doctors arrived in the room with three very interesting cases on trolley's.

"We seriously have to Fight everyone ! " Lechnstein exclaimed from across the room.

"Oh shut the fuck up Erik " replied Steiner.

After several moments the Doctors began a series of injections.

"Begin stage one of Nano injection. "

several injector's hissed loudly as the Doctors tapped several buttons on their tablets.

"Begin stage two of.... "

With a loud hiss Schweitzer's eyes rolled back and he fell into a comatose state as his mind transferred between the physical and virtual realms.


Flashback
Imperial City States
Fort Raxis
Imperial Armed Forces High Command


"You understand that you would be undergoing a series of wargames against special operators of other nations correct " General Chase said as Schweitzer overlooked the thick binder that had been given to him minutes earlier.


"Yes Sir , I fully understand. " Replied Schweitzer.

"Excellent , You and your team fly to Emmerian tonight. I understand you hand picked them for this mission correct ? " General Chase asked inquisitively.

"That is correct Sir , they are the best men I could find Sir" Replied Schweitzer in his normal stoic demeanor.

"Dismissed Sergeant " General Chase said. Rapidly Schweitzer rose and snapped a crisp salute to the General who returned it in kind.





VR Simulator
Titan Missile Complex
Stairwell
Security Checkpoint


As Klaus's vision cleared he noticed the pixilated area that surrounded him that in a matter of seconds completely cleared to be as life like as anything he'd ever experienced. Adjusting his ABR-35 he took several paces within the small area that he was permitted before the Wargame started. His boots thudding softly against the concrete. Around him both Steiner and Lechnstein seemed to materialize out of thin air. Quietly they awaited the start of the game.

[Bratislavskaya]

The four Spetsnaz operatives seemed to disappear from the white room and were "teleported" to a dusty area near a group of APCs. Quickly the men darted their eyes around the area. "Huh, looks like Garengad" murmured Arkadi, and to that there were two nods of agreement. "Well Comrades" started Dima "We have a mission, we and the SS team must plant C4 around a missile facility that's in that direction" he continued pointing towards the facility "Nikov that's your job, you plant the explosives, whilst we cover you, the SS" at SS there were a few "Nazis" from the group "As I was saying the SS will be with us on this, so Urahh Comrades!" the other three also yelled "Urahh" and the four operative waited for their allies and the beginning of the round.

[New Emmerian Coalition]

The Coalition STIGRU spawned behind their respective APCs.

"Alright--" Ira said, looking through his Solid Eye. "--We're a go." The team moved swiftly behind the cover of the three APCs in front of them. Across the field, the enemy team had spawned, unbeknownst to the STIGRU forces. Grayson set up with his DMR ontop of one of the APCs. He laid out flat across it, his thermal Solid Eye not catching anything out of the ordinary. Ira and Eckhart proceeded slowly to the base's entrance; a blast door leading to the command room.

"Objective is to neutralize all hostiles; or plant our C4 in the base. Ira, take point, and we'll link up with SFOD-A as soon as they arrive."

[Die Erworbenen Namen]

The SS soldiers spawned behind their DEN-TC-1s with every thing they had spawned originally. They loaded their guns, cocking the hammer back, and fitting bayonets. They checked their personal radar screens, basically low range radar that reached around 20 feet in front of them and gave them a view of what was around them. They had a screen on their helmet lens, which showed them three small screens off to the side: one for each person. On it, if there was a target, it was a circle, and the distance away from them.

"Roger that. See you on the battlefield!" Rogers said, and began running off into the desert, going straight for the blast doors, walking slowly behind their allies, and looked down their sights. "Watch out for enemy contacts."

OOC: Not gonna be here for the weekend.

[Bratislavskaya]

The four Spetsnaz operators saw the SS spawn in. Quickly the three Spetsnaz men wearing helmets lowered their visors over their faces, ready for CQB. Dima spoke to the SS officer "Plan?"

[New Hayesalia]

The BASTION operators spawned in. The lights inside the complex were out, the power not only shut off but completely disabled. The four operators spawned in a tight and outwards facing formation, with each watching the others load in. Each switched on the individual night vision equipment implemented in their helmets, keeping their weapons high. The powerful looking shotguns and the sleek, bullpup carbines gave 360 degree coverage as the team gathered their bearings. Their radios could be used very quietly, the helmet serving the block quiet outgoing noises- you could talk normally and be heard, but whisper into your radio and be silent.

“From here,” came the voice of Lieutenant Rothgow- Gazelle 1- “two fireteams. April on me, Chef, with Pitts. We’re going to search for an entry point from the surface and do a quick recce. 2 and 3, you booby trap up with Gay Spray.”
“Gazelle 2, acknowledge.”
“Break.”

The two teams moved off. Their webbing and weapons were attached tightly together, reducing their noise. Their boots, fined with further padding to allow for soft steps, helped to reduce the noise coming off the hard linoleum floors. They’d found themselves in what seemed to be a stairwell, at the top. A small floor plan on the wall, found by Rothgow’s fire team a mere few seconds after, showed the entrance as being down a corridor.

“Let’s move.”

Making your way down a hallway, in CQB, in the dark is no fearless challenge. All it would take was one guy with a machine gun to lay down fire. The two men moved silently, quickly and with weapons at their shoulders, ready in case anyone should pop out from the doorway. So far, it seemed, nobody was there to do so.

The two operators made it to the doorway, Rothgow to the left and April the right. With expert precision, the two moved into the next room, scanning for hostile targets in the green light.

“That’s the entrance point.” Rothgow called over the radio. He pointed with his left hand to the hatch. “Seen,” replied April. “What now?”
“Gas won’t work here. See that tight set of stairs over there?”
“Affirmative.”
“Get some wire there. Do everything except put a grenade on it. After that, get between that pole and that wall and do the same thing, just loose. A third one, near the door. Make them think the place has already been cleared.”
“Good drills, Roth.”

The Lance Corporal pulled a small kit out of his webbing, one used by any keen booby-trapper. The thin wire, almost invisible in white light let alone night vision, would be placed in a way that a skilled operator would quite easily catch it. It would be flayed, like another unit had already passed through and removed it from service. Hopefully, this would create the impression that whichever team entered would be following another unit- not coming up to one.

As Rothgow watched the hatch intently, his partner going to work on the deception, the other two men were also setting up some defences. At the doorway to the stairwell, they connected a canister of the ‘Gay Spray’ to a simple tripwire. Moving swiftly to the bottom of the stairs, they connected two more devices. Pittison, with a miniature torch, placed the device in a corner. With it’s red light, it looked eerily like the laser sights used by some simple-minded enemy forces. Just from the bottom stair, he connected another tripwire device, attached again to the non-lethal spray. Meanwhile, Chef took his time in placing down a flashlight. The torch, using a white light, would’ve blinded the two if it wasn’t for the automatic light shutoff they knew and trusted. The torch would serve as an uncomfortable decoy that shone up the last flight of stairs, lighting up the whole room except for the bottom floor. If the ploy worked, an enemy would pick it up to switch it off. He would also pull the detcord attached to the bottom of the torch, almost invisible. This, in turn, would unfortunately set off a Model 6 Defensive grenade, blowing away not only the bottom section of the stairs but any operator unlucky enough to be stood on them.

The two teams communicated, ensuring all locations for a trap were known. With Rothgow and April finished in the silo area, the team made their way- carefully- to the bottom of the stairwell. As a four man patrol, the team infiltrated the computer room. With three known floors, the team were in the knowledge that the silo room had been, at least apparently, cleared of explosive ordnance. The hallway had also been deceptively cleared, to the central stairwell room. It was at that room that the first real booby traps had been placed. A canister of gay spray under the first descending flight, and the two-punch surprise towards the bottom. The BASTION knew one thing- if they heard any clinking, someone was coming. If they heard a boom- someone was certainly coming.

[Paddy O Fernature]

After spending a little time waiting around for other people to gear up, the time had finally come for the POF detachment to start. The group of men calmly walked forward with their weapons at the low ready, through a brightly light doorway and found themselves standing near a cluster of foreign made APC's. The men quickly took stock of their starting position, and went into action.

Spook shoulder slung his rifle, and opened up the top of his equipment pack. After digging around for a second, he pulled out a small UAV and controller from somewhere within, and after a brief preflight check, flung the drone as high into the air as he could. The little motors on the craft silently spun into life, as the on board gyro stabilized the drone and leveled it out. Spook then opened up the flight controls on the controller unit, which was the size of a smart phone, and set the drone into recce mode. The drone responded by quietly ascending altitude and scanning the complex and surrounding area with it's on board camera looking for a combination of thermal signatures and movement, and relaying this information in real time back to the control unit.

Once the drone was away and information started to come in, Godfather piggybacked into the stream with his team leaders display over the nomad system, which populated hits in real time on a topographical map of the AO who's image was then projected onto his retina in a low light setting, which didn't hinder his vision and allowed him full use of his vision.

Though his display, Godfather could see what he assumed to be the other teams infiltration site based upon the same APC setup as their own, and he could see that someone was laying across the roof of one of the vehicles. After rotating the 360 camera on the drone, he then spotted a three man group approaching one of the two entrances of the facility in a tactical fashion.

"Got them." he murmured to nobody in particular. Consulting his known map of the area, he quickly plotted a path of advancement that put cover and concealment between his men and what he assumed was either a sniper or a spotter of sorts on the APC, and ordered the advancement of his men toward the 2nd entrance at a deliberate pace with weapons at the ready. With a little luck, they would approach the entrance undetected due to these measures taken.