NATION

PASSWORD

PW - Operation Helios

A staging-point for declarations of war and other major diplomatic events. [In character]
User avatar
New Emmerian Coalition
Ambassador
 
Posts: 1793
Founded: Mar 07, 2011
Ex-Nation

PW - Operation Helios

Postby New Emmerian Coalition » Fri Aug 15, 2014 12:36 pm






This is an AUTOMATED broadcast from your GOVERNMENT - Please remain calm. Weather conditions have been ESTIMATED to subside in TWO DAYS as of TODAY at FOUR O'CLOCK.

New Luanda

The hurricane slammed into the island nation of New Luanda fiercely, drowning the majority of the nation nearly over night. The frenzied populace, already burdened by severe famine and disease, was thrown into complete anarchy, with police and military forces suppressing looters and rioters with deadly force and extreme prejudice. While this scenario was bad enough, elements of the armed forces abandoned their posts in favor of securing the vital supplies left within their bases and various police outposts. Working with professional criminal elements, these forces were able to neutralize any loyal forces guarding these facilities. As they captured the bases, they discovered an old Cold War weapons cache - a MIRV missile base. The leader of these forces, Generalissimo Cortez, saw this as a golden opportunity to instate his twisted form of government; unquestionable military rule, a dictatorship led by an iron fist with enough lead and muscle to secure its position in power. The base's underground sector was built to withstand the horrors of a nuclear war, and any event that would take place after. It had enough supplies to sustain a small military force and an even smaller amount of refugees for a year at best. This gave Cortez enough leverage to use his populace as leverage for the international community. With aide shipments raided and destroyed by these forces, allies of the nation flocked to protect its wellbeing.

However, the vast arsenal left at the base was more than enough to sustain the Generalissimo. He had his men activate the emergency power, and was fortunate to obtain a fully functional MIRV missile; an intercontinental ballistic missile, this model capable of carrying at least 8 nuclear warheads. Drunk with power, Cortez has begun plans to fire these missiles at various nations around the globe, starting with the Emmerian Coalition. First, they would be issued an ultimatum - a sum of money, or a cache of armaments. On the morning of August 8th, 20XX, he sent his message to the Coalition, using numerous social media outlets and the ever famous Youtube. When they had recieved the message, the President had issued an emergency meeting with the Council of Armed Conflict, Emmeria's wartime leadership. They agreed to feign a weapons shipment, but in reality the brave Coalition 17th Fleet was readied, and dispatched to the area from their patrol in the Illbarin Oceans. From here, Coalition A-164s were to take off from the Revelation super carrier and bombard the area from the Naval Cove on one of the islands. It was to be a short and simple operation.

Little Luanda - Approaching Naval Cove

"Badger One, approaching target, strike package alpha engaged." The Pilots chattered, their radios interfered by the viscous storm. "Approaching target destination, spinnin' the Gau."

The chatter was usual enough for an airstrike. Necessary for the political structure of the operation. The two jets slowed, their miniguns beginning to rev up and open up on the cove. They made their first strafe successfully, striking a group of stagnant vehicles approaching the concrete walls of the fortress. They broke off, and turned for another go. Badger One noticed an oddity however -- there were hardly any soldiers in the open. Was it the hurricane conditions? Suddenly, his radar warning began bleeping, loudly and urgently.

"What the Hell?" Badger said, the "MISSILE WARNING" appearing on his HUD. "Badger Two, I've got SAMs, deploying ECM and Flare countermeasures."

The missiles flew off course, and the planes attempted a second strafe. The radar began bleeping once more. Badger's ECM wasn't ready for a second round, he wasn't expecting a militia to be capable of an attack like this.

"Badger One, I've got two more AA missiles on my tail, breaking off!" He pulled up, attempted to gain altitude and speed. The missiles were hot on his trail, gaining speed and getting closer with each passing moment. In a desperate move, he made a sharp left and bypassed one of them, but luck wasn't on his side for long. The second had maintained course, and collided with the engines of the A-164. The pilot couldn't speak a word before the fuselage erupted in flames, and exploded violently.

"Mother Base, we've got a fallen angel! Repeat, fallen angel!" Badger 2 pulled away. That's when he was greeted with a 'MISSILE WARNING' on his Hud as well. This time, three were approaching him, each at different angles and speeds. His ECM threw two off course, but the third plummeted into the front end of the plane, essentially vaporizing him. Both planes became spirals of flames, and fell to the ocean.

Revelation Carrier - Command Center

Back at the Revelation, General McCarren stood in shock. He had just lost two of his best pilots to a rogue faction. They had unconfirmed reports of the faction obtaining western Military equipment, but nothing like this. They controlled the entire cove, what they thought to be a graveyard of western naval ships, turned out to be just as alive as ever. At most, he knew they would only have been able to salvage the weapons systems - but this was complicated enough. They were already unable to make a military strike, due to the hurricane conditions, but now the faction was alerted to them. It was only a matter of time before the missile was fired, and while Coalition missile defense worked easily with modern day ICBMs, these ones lacked the electrical frequency the newer ones did, thus the missile defense systems wouldn't work. He slowly placed his palm over his face, and let out a deep sigh. He had to work by the clock now, and he had no idea how much time he'd have. He turned to Lt. Lennox.

"What's the status on the expeditionary force?" He asked.

"They won't be combat ready until tomorrow, sir. Even if we rushed them in, there wouldn't be any way to insert them via the coast, it'd have to be with a helicopter crew." Lennox looked at McCaren, and handed him a tablet. "They're battered and beaten, but they may be our last option."

The tablet had a display of Task Force Atlas - their members, their armaments, and the after action report of Operation Olympia.

"Are they reliable? This AR reads that their last operation was barely a success." McCarren scrolled through the various reports, there was one by each chief in the Atlas Command Board.

"Do we have a choice?" Lennox asked.

McCarren stared at the tablet for a few moments, sweat noticeable on his brow.

"I want them readied within the hour, tell them to pack light and be ready for hellish conditions. Warm clothes. Two strike teams, one will insert via coast, one via helicopter." He looked at Lennox, "I'm giving them 24 hours, if they screw up, we detect a launch, or miss the deadline, I'm calling in the B-2s."

"Yes sir." Lennox saluted, and made his leave. He pulled his SAT Phone from one of the pockets on his vest. " Garrett, get to the Atlas Briefing room. We're up for Operation Helios."

The Carrier's halls were like a maze, but eventually he made it to the briefing room. There was an intercom within the room for communicating with the hall around it. He spoke into it, using a strict and urgent tone of voice.

"Task Force Atlas and associates, report to SRPA Briefing Room #1A immediately."

Revelation Carrier - Locker Room / Atlas Barracks

Lt. Garcia pulled his equipment out of his locker. His iDroid was sitting on the bench next to him, playing Mp3s as he prepared himself. He pulled on his All-Weather fatigues, followed by his Solid Eye. Once he had his fatigues, he picked up his iDroid, and read the names of the newest STIGRU members outloud.

"Lt. Lennox, Captain West, and... Captain Santiago, welcome to Task Force Atlas." He looked around the room. "Where the hell is Lennox?"

"McCarren's errand boy you mean? He's called for us at the briefing room. Maybe if you didn't have Johnny Cash on full blast, you could hear him." Santiago pat Garcia on the back, before opening his own locker and getting dressed. "You know, they don't give us those for our personal entertainment."

"Whatever, just get your ass in gear and let's move, not wise to keep the brass waiting." Garcia laughed, pulling his LBT-6094 from the locker and putting it over his equipment. "Atlas, we're equipping at the armory after the briefing, get your essentials and double time it to the Briefing Room!" He called across the locker room.

Image


Image


Image


(OOC: I'm very visual. And those are the new STIGRU members of the team, figured it'd be cool to give them faces rather than just straight up guess.)
Last edited by New Emmerian Coalition on Fri Aug 22, 2014 12:53 am, edited 1 time in total.
Current Location: Gone Rogue @ DZ02 Steeleport

User avatar
Yngen
Diplomat
 
Posts: 679
Founded: Jun 17, 2014
Ex-Nation

Postby Yngen » Fri Aug 15, 2014 1:09 pm

Captain Fare, Lieutenant Sekken and Sergeant Kiele were amongst the newest recruits to Task Force Alpha, operatives from the Strategic Homeland Armed Response Command. These three 'sharks' were the Empire's contribution to Task Force Alpha, and under the experienced eye of Captain Fare, Sekken and Kiele were expected to go far, though neither of them had much combat experience in comparison to the grizzled captain.
The three spoke English, though Fare had a tinge of Norman French to his, Sekken sounded to the untrained eye faintly japanese, and Kiele's accent was quite clearly Germanic.
They sat in the briefing room in their fatigues - digital navy blue with sou'westers hanging from their necks, the SHARC patch on one sleeve and the Task Force Atlas patch, considerably fresher and newer, on their other. The three waited patiently for the briefing to start, nodding silently to the STIGRU members as the three men walked in, but then Kiele spoke up in Vayrholtian.
"These must be the STIGRU agents" began Sekken "reckon they're any good?"
"They're almost certainly as good as us, if not better, idiot" replied Kiele "they'll have more missions under their belt than you".
Sekken flushed red - it was a sore point with him that he had only performed one active duty mission, and that was domestic, despite being a higher rank than the more experience Kiele who had been on at least eight, including at least one international operation, according to her official records. No-one was quite sure how many missions Fare had been on - he easily predated the SHARC and perhaps even the invention of gunpowder.
Last edited by Yngen on Fri Aug 15, 2014 1:14 pm, edited 2 times in total.
-GO STAMPEDERS / GREY CUP 2014.-
-Ingen - "The Eyes of Justice"-
-Laptev Axis is best Axis-


The Jade Empire of Ingen; a vast, anachronistic, character-driven FT superpower
You want realism? In what 'realistic' nation would you be in charge?

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

Postby Congreveopia » Fri Aug 15, 2014 3:29 pm

Spaceport, Congreveopia:

The howling winds and torrential rain of the hurricane couldn’t be more unlike the weather where President William Congreve was. A beautiful summer sun shone through a crystal clear blue sky with not a cloud in sight. Far from being too hot, the summer sun nicely warmed the President as he sat in a row of stands, high in the Northern Congreveopia Mountains. The sun shone on a massive rocket, silently standing ready. Small shapes walked out of one of the support towers and into the rocket, soon they would be on their way to Destiny, Congreveopia’s space station. Further away, the sun shone on Guardian, the president’s plane, as it sat near the spaceport’s largest runway, easily dwarfing all the other planes. Somewhere, a speaker reported “T-minus ten minutes to launch.” in a robotic voice.

One of Nexus’s robotic avatars sat next to William. It tapped his shoulder. “We need to go, sir. Code Yellow.”

William, Nexus and his guards stood up and began walking to the President’s car, parked nearby. “Code Yellow.” thought William “It’s not imminently dangerous, but it is extremely important. I wonder what’s up.”

Five minutes later, Guardian:

The massive airplane trundled down the runway. In the command room, President Congreve was briefed on the situation. Congrevopia’s space-based arsenal was useless. Hailstorm mainly carried light drones, which would be torn to shreds in a hurricane, and none of the satellites except possibly Destiny could hope to see through a hurricane. Without eyes on the target, the direct attack Hailstorm pods would never be able to hit the target. With the exception of the Hailstorm X satellites. Nuking the island from space would cause a political nightmare, but William ordered a Hailstorm X repositioned anyways in case all else failed. No planetside assets were near enough to attack, and now that the Emmerian strike had failed there was no telling how much time they had left.

“Keep me informed.” said William, and he walked to his room and lay down on the floor, staring blankly up at the clear blue sky.

Somewhere worlds away, a rocket took off towards Destiny.

Unknown Cavern:

A knight slashed through an orc’s arm. The blade passed straight through, but the orc flashed white, and a quarter of a green bar above its head drained away. The knight pulled back his axe to strike again, but before he could a crossbow bolt trailing sparkles lodged in the Orc’s skull, and the orc collapsed dead. The knight glanced up at the hunter on a ledge above as she loaded another bolt, then he looked back at the wave of at least fifty more orcs walking towards him in a straight line. A wizard next to the knight finished conjuring up a magical shield wall, and the orcs turned, having to take a longer path to the crystal they were ordered to destroy. The knight began climbing a ladder to cut off the orcs while the mage ran off to conjure more defences. The knight finished climbing, and raised his shield, standing in the path of the advancing orcs, ready to die to buy the mage time. Next to him, one of Nexus’s robotic avatars appeared in a flash of light. Nexus’s right arm morphed into a machine gun, which he aimed at the orcs. Five seconds later, all of them lay dead.

“Aside from taking all the challenge out of this wave, what are you here for?” asked the knight.

“Wait, you know that thing?” asked the hunter, keeping her crossbow aimed at the robot’s head. Nexus waved his left hand and the mage and hunter vanished.

“You have a briefing to get to.” said Nexus.

“Okay.” said the Knight “Now stop hacking the Cave Quest servers.” He vanished and a message popped up saying “TomGuy123 has disconnected.”

Revelation Carrier, Atlas Barracks:

Thomas pulled the VR goggles off his head, and then removed his headset. He then stood up from the computer and grabbed his PCU. The rest of the squad was standing by the door waiting for him, in casual fatigues like him. Most of their gear was in the armoury, and there was no point grabbing most stuff until they knew the mission anyways, so Thomas grabbed the rest of his basic essentials, and then ran off towards the briefing room with the rest of the squad.
"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
Hurtful Thoughts
Senator
 
Posts: 4961
Founded: Sep 09, 2005
Capitalist Paradise

Postby Hurtful Thoughts » Fri Aug 15, 2014 5:15 pm

As a whole, the Hurti contingent was largely shaken at the sight of such horrific losses from the previous engagement, and frustrated at not being able to participate in the actual skirmishing. It had taken Gibbons several hours after their return before he could even locate the rest of Foyt's squad, and Kayora's unit nearly ended up on an entirely different boat due to a severe miscommunication.

Now, just as everything was getting sorted, he was called to briefing and told he had les than an hour to get his unit ready to fight. All this running around in circles was nearly as bad for moral and unit-cohesion as actual combat.

Kayora had still been shaken-up after performing casevac, namely the person who bore a striking resemblance to one she knew before as 'medic' being himself gravely wounded; despite orders she had a hard time pulling herself from this stranger's company, as she had many questions.

Nevertheless, there was the mission. She re-stocked her individual first aid kit (iFAK) and grimaced at the Hurti heavy armored suit, thankful she would not have to wear it on this mission... the mere thought of being in one gave her one too many bad nightmares.

Elsewhere, Foyt was re-stocking ammunition and exchanging the barrel-slides on his pistol from a 6.5x25 to the larger 7.62x25TT round as he'd heard the chances of encountering heavy armor were negligible. Extra frags, mines, and demolitions for Gibbons's team were the order of the day, as was suppressed firearms. A quick and quiet in, big explosions to wreck some random stuff as a diversion for the raid, followed by a surgically-delicate extraction, all the while with a massive 3rd-rate junta on their tail. The supersonic and rare 6.5x55mm was out. however, a load of older 7.62x54R Type 53 Mosin-Pedersons and a lot of 7.62x25TT and .32 ACP would be more plentiful, and easier to suppress.

He thought of the quote of the atomic physicist witnessing the first atom bomb, and wondered if he could make the suns cry blood.
Last edited by Hurtful Thoughts on Fri Aug 15, 2014 6:27 pm, edited 5 times 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
Torrumbarry
Diplomat
 
Posts: 924
Founded: Sep 08, 2012
Ex-Nation

Postby Torrumbarry » Fri Aug 15, 2014 6:45 pm

Communique of the Holy Constitutional Monarchy of Torrumbarry

Image
Recipient: Generalissimo Cortez of the Rogue Armed State of New Luanda
Sender: President Lance Hemingway, The Holy Constitutional Monarchy of Torrumbarry
Encryption: NONE/PUBLIC


Generalissimo Cortez,
This blatant encroachment and eradication of international and domestic stability, and your unethical attempt to wean provisions from reputable nations through extortion will not go unpunished. The Holy Constitutional Monarchy of Torrumbarry does not and does not intend to bargain with quasi-militant institutions, despite your idle threats of nuclear bombardment. I shall presently stay my hand, but unless your nuclear arsenal is deactivated or surrendered, New Luanda's stint as a Rogue Armed State will conclude in slaughter.

You have been forewarned. Pay heed to my correspondence,
President Lance Hemingway, The Holy Constitutional Monarchy of Torrumbarry


Despite the President's assurances of non-aggression, the Commonwealth Council had deemed it necessary to monitor such a volatile hazard; due to the storm system battering New Luanda, the notion of a preliminary survey by satellite, UAV or even Reconnaissance Aircraft had been abandoned. As a last resort, a Fire Team of five elite Commonwealth Airborne Naval Special Operations Command Corpsmen (CANSOCC), whom "Phantom Corps" veteran Chief Special Warfare Operator Philip Mortlock had been charged with command, had been dispatched in an AJAX-SH201 "Rapier", a stealthy troop transport tilt-rotor VTOL, from the 9th Carrier Strike Group to the Emmerian Coalition Revelation Carrier to be briefed and inserted into the foundling nation.
Last edited by Torrumbarry on Sun Aug 17, 2014 6:35 pm, edited 3 times in total.
BUSY IRL - UNABLE TO POST



President: Rt. Hon. Lance Hemingway
Chancellor of the Exchequer: Rt. Hon. Abigail Thorpe
Constitutional King: His Eminence Edmund VII of House Adelaide
Population: RENOVATING-HARD HAT ZONE

User avatar
Ghondra
Senator
 
Posts: 4354
Founded: Feb 07, 2014
Ex-Nation

Postby Ghondra » Fri Aug 15, 2014 7:51 pm

Imperial Hall, Victoria City
2100 Hours Local Time

"Max, gimme the copy, a hard copy, I hate those fuckin' things" The Prime Minister said, referring to the digital copy as he prepares to deliver a speech in front of the Press Chamber, "Of course Prime Minister" Max said, retrieving a hard copy of the speech. The Prime Minister proceeded to recite the speech, ignoring the two make-up ladies, "All right let's do this" He said after 15 additional minutes, giving the copy to the Secretary.

"Ladies, and Gentlemen, Prime Minister of the Empire of Ghondra" Max announced, gesturing for the PM to give his speech, Caldwell inhaled, then exhaled, before entering the Press Stage, "Thank you for your attendance, now let's make this quick:"

"An hour ago, we received a communique from the government of the Island Nation of New Luanda, an emerging nation with a growing economy, and a regional power in it's own right, unfortunately, we have received word that Hurricane Sabrina has strike the nation, in light of this information, we planned to send aid to the growing nation, before we received a transmission from Generalissimo Cortez, the leader of the New Luandan Military. He has revealed the existence of a single MIRV module, with 8 nuclear-capable warheads at it's disposal. He plans to strike the nations of the Emmerian Coalition,which includes our own."

He takes a pause to let the words sink in, he raises his hand, gesturing for the press to hold their questions.

"We hereby authorize a Military Police Action, but with Hurricane Sabrina still in the area, we are unable to send an Invasion Force, all information about the Operation is classified at this time, and the Military is on high-alert, all citizens are urged to stay in their homes, do not panic, our best men are on it. No questions"

The Prime Minister ended the session, stepping off the stage, and on his way to the Emergence Ministerial Command & Control Center.
⚧Copy and paste this in your sig if you passed biology and know gender and sex aren't the same thing ⚧
I'M A MEMBER OF THOUGHT CAFE
WE'RE THE AWESOMEST, COME CHECK US OUT

CURRENT STATUS: Splendid Isolation
IS A: Democratic Socialist, Liberal, ENTP/ENFP
Agrees on:
Gay Marriage, Civil Rights, Military Interventionism, Capitalism with Limits, Theory of Evolution, Equality for all, Free Education, and Universal Healthcare, Legalisation of Marijuana
Disagree on:
Militant Atheism, Wars of Aggression, Communism, Welfare to Parasites, Nazism, Fascism, Militarism.
Economic Left/Right: -3.88
Social Libertarian/Authoritarian: -1.13

Exelia wrote:It's all good till you have to wear a badge.

Listen to Jord, its good for your health

User avatar
Guruda
Diplomat
 
Posts: 817
Founded: Aug 09, 2010
Ex-Nation

Postby Guruda » Fri Aug 15, 2014 8:02 pm

The movement of the white towel hanging from the door-frame was subtle, but noticeable if given enough attention. Despite the massive size of the Revelation, it was impossible to forget the inspiring force of nature that it sat upon as it cruised throughout the oceans. It was by far the largest ship that Staff Sergeant Eric Kernan had ever been aboard. He sat in silence, meticulously watching the towel gently sway as the ocean tilted the ship, ever so slightly.

The opportunity to come aboard the Revelation was a cause for excitement, but the assignment to Task Force Atlas was not. There were only 82 operators in B Squadron, and most of them knew about what happened during the course of Operation Olympia. If they managed to avoid hearing about the story, they couldn't steer clear of the obvious; one of their own never came back, and another simply didn't come back the same. All of them attended the ceremony for the posthumously promoted Lieutenant Anderson, before his body was shipped back to his home in Caleston.

It was also one of the last times he had seen Alex Raymond. Both Raymond and Greene were ordered to undergo extensive psychological evaluation following the incident, and Alex had failed. Before he could catch a breath the government stamped him as unfit for duty, ordered an honorable discharge, and sent him off covered by disability benefits. Kernan was Raymond's favorite catcher on the diamond, and a personal friend. His discharge did nothing but piss him off. It was Anderson who had the easy job. He was deployed, killed, given a medal and a promotion, and was now at rest. Due to the sudden nature of his discharge, Raymond was essentially homeless. Kernan accompanied him to the airport to bid him farewell, with a ticket stamped for the Gurudan capital. He had no destination following Fairweather International. There was no time to communicate with him over the past few weeks due to the reformation of a Gurudan team for Task Force Atlas, and Kernan's only hope was that his fortune had changed over the past few weeks.

After their return from Operation Olympia, Sergeant Malcolm Greene pleaded for Gurudan withdrawal from the Task Force. He was given a hearing in front of several parliamentary representatives and high-ranking Army officials with regards to the matter. He cited leadership incompetence, lack of unit structure and organization, unclear objectives, reckless behavior, and debatable goals as reason for withdrawal. His messages fell on deaf ears. The lives of more operators would be put on the line in the name of international cooperation. Kernan didn't know Greene as well, but the two talked frequently up until the deployment leading up to Operation Helios. Despite Kernan's mildly superior rank and pay-grade, Greene became a sort of mentor, preparing him for his future in Atlas. It was pleasant to see that Greene was still the quiet and ever helpful man that he was before Olympia, despite being noticeably more pissed off than he was before. Like Raymond, he had changed as well; Greene was just able to keep a better grip on who he once was.

Now Kernan had to deal with these vices which were Task Force Atlas, and was convinced that the past problems remained, wearing both new and old uniforms. The military tended to work that way. If he had his way, not a single Gurudan soldier would be sitting aboard the Revelation, but he knew that politics were far more important than personal opinions. When he signed the dotted line on his recruitment contract twelve years prior, he understood that the wills and needs of the military would always trump his own, and finding himself aboard an Emmerian Aircraft Carrier was just another cobblestone along his journey. Unfortunately, morale was low this time, and this cobblestone was dusted in dirt. But it didn't matter; his role was to suck it up, and do whatever was asked of him to 100% of his ability. His complaints needed to remain internal, whilst projecting an outward appearance of model leadership and determination. Now matter how much he disagreed with their assignment, his team would complete their mission, or die trying.

The call for Task Force Atlas to assemble broke Kernan's train of thought, just as he thought the towel was no longer moving. He sat up and covered his face with his hands, and took a glance at himself in the small mirror by the door. His short brown hair was mildly scraggly from sleeping, and his stubble was getting a little too long for his liking. He didn't look tired, but he sure felt like it.

"You up Eric?" Sergeant Marcus Jensen asked on the bunk above Kernan's, as his feet swung over the side of the bed. He didn't want to drop onto the floor without alerting his Staff Sergeant.

"I am," Kernan whispered, taking a few steps towards the door. The room was small enough that he could reach out and touch the frame of the third bed from the exit. He gave it a slight shake, causing the soldier sitting on the bed to wobble gently with the mattress.

Specialist Craig Shipley chuckled quietly at the action. "I heard it," he stated quietly, groaning as he stood. He wasn't having as much fortune when it came to adjusting to the changing time-zones. Self-conscious of his appearance, he took a second to inspect himself in the mirror before the team departed. He looked better than he feared. He re-tucked his olive drab t-shirt into his woodland camo BDU pants, allowing himself to neaten up slightly before briefing. All three Gurudan operators sported the same appearance as they mingled in their room and about ship over he past several days.

Still standing in the doorway, Kernan rapped his knuckles on the wooden frame. "Hurry it up," he stated, "you know my rule." The Staff Sergeant always forced his belief that if one was not five minutes early, they were late. He held the door open for Jensen and Shipley as they exited their room, and the trio navigated their way through the labyrinth of corridors and hallways that composed the inner regions of the Revelation.

With their arrival in the briefing room the Gurudan's flipped over to their professional attitude, keeping quiet and standing rigidly as they reached their destination. Moving into the room single file, they turned shoulder to shoulder to snap a very brief salute to the Emmerian officers who requested their presence. Though they held their gesture of respect for no more than a second, Kernan wished it wasn't necessary at all. They occupied three empty seats in the front of the room, eager to hear what this new operation would consist of, and silently convincing themselves that events of this mission would weave in very different manner than the previous Atlas operation had.
Hi, I'm Matt

Ain't no party like a Pyongyang party, 'cause a Pyongyang party is ABSOLUTELY MANDATORY

User avatar
Ghondra
Senator
 
Posts: 4354
Founded: Feb 07, 2014
Ex-Nation

Postby Ghondra » Fri Aug 15, 2014 11:17 pm

Flight Deck - ECS Revelation

Captain Anthony Hill inhaled the antiquated Lucky Strike 1945 cigarette, breathing the fine tobacco substance in the cold, rainy air. Thunder struck in the sky behind him, yet he paid it no mind, not a flinch, not a wince, not even a blink, just acceptance. He rubbed the bags of his eyes, he was awake for almost 18 hours straight would do that to a man. He yawned, before throwing away the stubby, and ashened remains of the cigarette. He re-entered the belly of the ship, passing some Emmerian Personnel along the way, right now most of the other SpecOps personnel was nowhere in sight, but he know where his crew was; the firing range, testing out their new toys.

After a few minutes of walking, he encountered the echoing sound of gunshots in the underbelly of the ship, and there they was, Eagle Eye, The Big Guy, and Speedo. Testing out the new toys, the 7.62 equipped M5B3, and some of the more older toys, the Remington MSR, the trusty MP5, and the antiquated Desert Eagle, hey they needed a way to past the time right?

"Hey Boss" A deep voiced call out, before being drowned by the sound of an M249 SAW LMG "Hey Big Man" Anthony replied to the call, before grabbing a M1911 pistol, firing in quick short bursts at the target, "Perfect shot" A feminine voice interjected, Anthony looked to his right, there she was, sitting on a table, fiddling with her MP5, "Have the MP5 rounds you requested been delivered?" Anthony asked, taking a seat next to the previously-silent sniper, "No, they said they're still trying to find surplus, said they're prioritizing 9x19mm rounds for Emmerian personnel, I didn't even know they still use those!" She complained loudly. Prompting a chuckle from Anthony.

"Where's Tanner?" He asked to the assembled 2 of the 21st, "He said he was trying to get us some snacks, probably chasing some Emmerian girls, beats me" Daniel, the big guy, interjected, before firing another burst from his M249.

"Anyways, They're holding a briefing for TF Atlas, said we've gotta be there before 2100 Hours, we should go" Anthony said, grabbing his sidearm before departing to the Briefing Room."

-Briefing Room-
"What's Up!" A voice greeted the trio as they entered the large briefing room, empty with the exception of a single person, "Looks like I'm early!" The voice said, revealing himself to be Michael "Speedo" Tanner. "Where is everybody?" Henrietta (Eagle-Eye) asked, referring to the emptiness of the room, "We're early" Daniel said matter-of-factly, before taking his seat, resignedly, Anthony sighed, following Daniel in his movements.
⚧Copy and paste this in your sig if you passed biology and know gender and sex aren't the same thing ⚧
I'M A MEMBER OF THOUGHT CAFE
WE'RE THE AWESOMEST, COME CHECK US OUT

CURRENT STATUS: Splendid Isolation
IS A: Democratic Socialist, Liberal, ENTP/ENFP
Agrees on:
Gay Marriage, Civil Rights, Military Interventionism, Capitalism with Limits, Theory of Evolution, Equality for all, Free Education, and Universal Healthcare, Legalisation of Marijuana
Disagree on:
Militant Atheism, Wars of Aggression, Communism, Welfare to Parasites, Nazism, Fascism, Militarism.
Economic Left/Right: -3.88
Social Libertarian/Authoritarian: -1.13

Exelia wrote:It's all good till you have to wear a badge.

Listen to Jord, its good for your health

User avatar
Vancon
Powerbroker
 
Posts: 9877
Founded: Mar 01, 2014
Ex-Nation

Postby Vancon » Fri Aug 15, 2014 11:27 pm

On the deck of the Revelation, an assortment of soldiers watched the ocean as the weather started to pick up. It wasn't long until a meeting was called and for all members to stand by for orders. No mention of what they we're going to be doing yet or how they'd do it, but that was to come. Until then the group just had to wait. Nevertheless, the team of eight men and women went down from the harsh exterior and into the hull of the ship. They said not a single word as they walked slowly by in an orderly fashion. Like the wind, the group moved silently through the corridors and arrived in the locker room. All their gear was already in stations for each of them for ease of use and equipping. Because of this, they were fully geared up and ready to go in a couple of seconds. They then left to head to their destination, the briefing room. On by one they entered, until naught but the commander remained, and then he went in as well in front of his team. Their motions we're both fluid and precise, not wasting a single breath of air or inch of movement. These hardened warriors already got a good feel for the basic kind of environment that they were going into.
"Commander, Saber Team members one through eight ready and waiting. Requesting orders."
Mike the Progressive wrote:You know I don't say this often, but this guy... he gets it. Like everything. As in he gets life.

Imperializt Russia wrote:
The balkens wrote:Please tell me that condoms and Hazelnut spread are NOT on the same table.

Well what the fuck do you use for lube?

Krazakistan wrote:How have you not died after being exposed to that much shit on a monthly basis?
Rupudska wrote:I avoid NSG like one would avoid ISIS-occupied Syria.
Alimeria- wrote:I'll go to sleep when I want to, not when some cheese-eating surrender monkey tells me to.

Which just so happens to be within the next half-hour

Shyluz wrote:Van, Sci-fi Generallisimo


U18 2nd Cutest NS'er 2015
Best Role Play - Science Fiction 2015: Athena Program

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

Postby Congreveopia » Sat Aug 16, 2014 7:38 am

Fortress, over an ocean, flight deck:

The pilot watched his HUD, laid out across the night sky. In addition to the standard information in green, it now held new data in blue. He saw the outline of the refueling plane in front of him, the outline of its boom, and a box that he couldn’t let the airplane move out of. Not that he was flying it anyways. Piloted by Nexus, the two aircraft attached, three centimeters off the ideal spot. Over the course of the refueling, the maximum divergence from the ideal spot was eight centimeters, despite the system being able to handle 1.5 meters. It helped that there was no turbulence.

Fortress, over an ocean, command room:

In the dim command room, the brightest light was a red LCD clock, announcing the time until Fortress would be on station. The rest of the light came from the computer monitors, dotted all around.

14:34:52

The commander of the Platinum soldiers glanced at their flight plan. Most of the time they would be over water. Occasionally, a few nations, but all of them were either friendly or at least neutral to Congreveopia.

14:34:36

“Wake all personnel up, and send the night crew to bed.” he said. “I’ll give them seven hours of sleep before the op, but we need to practice right now.”

14:34:29

“Tell them to get on their computers.” he said “Have Nexus build us a model of the island and random hostiles and civies. Resistance should be centered on guarding an MIRV in this old base. Have us approach from the south with the birds and dragon deployed, and all squads in combat gear. We’ll run this time without a plan and see what happens.”

14:34:13

“Simulation ready.” said Nexus “I assume you want me to modify your computers here to receive the data from the simulation too.”

14:34:09

“Yes.” said the Commander “But leave the flight deck alone this time!”

14:34:04

“Everything’s ready.” said Nexus “Anything you want to do before we begin?”

14:34:02

“No.” said the Commander “Wait, yes… Someone take that damned clock down before it drives me insane! I have a watch!”
"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
Hurtful Thoughts
Senator
 
Posts: 4961
Founded: Sep 09, 2005
Capitalist Paradise

Postby Hurtful Thoughts » Sat Aug 16, 2014 11:39 am

As the members of the Hurti 90th Zeta Militia piled into the briefing room with their limited-standard replacement firearms --a request by Foyt as his squad quickly realized ammunition-compatibility issues during the previous mission-- they quickly filled the space, as the 9-member team almost completely outnumbered any other 'group'. Gibbons quickly noticed how the soldiers tended to 'clump' with their respective nationalities with the exception of Kayora constantly shadowing Lt. Lennox like she just found a new wounded puppy.

A few of the newer soldiers in the section were too busy trying to snap their helmets on to listen, others already had theirs on and strained to listen over the commotion coming from the open hallway as they waited for the last stragglers, while Gibbons and Foyt left their helmets off and hung loose from their belts for the time-being. Experience had shown that NOT making yourself a faceless rank usually made it easier for new replacements to recognize authority-figures of the unit.

Instead of assault-rifles, some of these men were armed with old short Mosins with scopes and threaded muzzles protected by their bayonet-rings, notably absent of slings. Most of them carried silenced PPS-43 submachine guns, Gibbons had a 40mm grenade-launcher under his, Kayoa's team had double-barreled sawed-off shotguns. In Foyt's pack were a few 152mm ENERGA anti-tank grenades for his Mosin to fend-off tanks with. Due to the mounting hurricane, anti-air assets would be of lower priority, and would be air-dropped later if necessary.

There was talk of being optionally-issued new uniforms and standardized firearms for units that did not share the common cartridges of Atlas, namely the 5.45x45 NATO; at least it would be lighter and longer-ranged than their submachine-guns... But right now, there was no time for familiarization-training with foreign weapons. Best bet was to make-do until some Type 81s and RPDs get dug-up from the national armories and sent to them and make an effort to learn the buddy's guns.
Last edited by Hurtful Thoughts on Sat Aug 16, 2014 1:01 pm, edited 3 times 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
Torrumbarry
Diplomat
 
Posts: 924
Founded: Sep 08, 2012
Ex-Nation

Postby Torrumbarry » Sat Aug 16, 2014 11:40 am

POST SCRAPPED
Last edited by Torrumbarry on Sun Aug 17, 2014 12:55 pm, edited 1 time in total.
BUSY IRL - UNABLE TO POST



President: Rt. Hon. Lance Hemingway
Chancellor of the Exchequer: Rt. Hon. Abigail Thorpe
Constitutional King: His Eminence Edmund VII of House Adelaide
Population: RENOVATING-HARD HAT ZONE

User avatar
Torrumbarry
Diplomat
 
Posts: 924
Founded: Sep 08, 2012
Ex-Nation

Postby Torrumbarry » Sat Aug 16, 2014 11:47 am

POST SCRAPPED
Last edited by Torrumbarry on Sun Aug 17, 2014 12:55 pm, edited 4 times in total.
BUSY IRL - UNABLE TO POST



President: Rt. Hon. Lance Hemingway
Chancellor of the Exchequer: Rt. Hon. Abigail Thorpe
Constitutional King: His Eminence Edmund VII of House Adelaide
Population: RENOVATING-HARD HAT ZONE

User avatar
Torrumbarry
Diplomat
 
Posts: 924
Founded: Sep 08, 2012
Ex-Nation

Postby Torrumbarry » Sat Aug 16, 2014 11:51 am

Could you please provide a tidbit more information on the natural geography of New Lauda?


As the "Rapier" VTOL approached the vicinity of the Revelation Aircraft Carrier, the co-pilot received consent from High Command to engage in radio communications with the Emmerian vessel. Clearing his throat, the co-pilot steeled himself and stated: "Revelation Carrier, this is Torrumbarian VTOL callsign Victor-November-Seven-One, carrying Torrumbarian envoys of Task Force Atlas, requesting clearance for landing. Over."
Last edited by Torrumbarry on Sun Aug 17, 2014 12:32 pm, edited 1 time in total.
BUSY IRL - UNABLE TO POST



President: Rt. Hon. Lance Hemingway
Chancellor of the Exchequer: Rt. Hon. Abigail Thorpe
Constitutional King: His Eminence Edmund VII of House Adelaide
Population: RENOVATING-HARD HAT ZONE

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

Postby The United Remnants of America » Sun Aug 17, 2014 2:49 pm

Remnant Bunk Room, Atlas Barracks, ERS Revelation
3rd Special Operations Squad, 1st Sentinel Battalion, Remnant Military

There were four bunks. In each one, a single person either lay or sat. Each was awake, but all were left to their own devices.

In the first bunk, Captain Jack Rogers sat with a cell phone to his ear. To his wife, he was known as Jacky, but to his team, he was known as "Jolly." On the other end of the phone, was his squad's operator, 2nd Lieutenant Ralph Peters, a young kid who knew his way around tech. The rest of the team could hear his side of the conversation: "Ralph, listen, we need that stuff dropped to us soon.... I don't give a fuck about the storm, I think we're about to be sent out to a shithole... Yeah, yeah, I know, that's what I said about the last place. Well, this is a flooded shithole. That's why I want-... I know, just try, alright? Hey, you there? Peters? Hey? Fuck. I lost the damn signal. This storm's pissing me off." Jolly tossed the phone down onto his bunk as he slumped back against the wall.

Across from him, a man chuckled. He was hunched over a laptop. He'd lost his signal to the Remnant comms satellite awhile ago, but that wasn't a problem, he was keeping a journal for himself and his wife. To his friends, he was "Koopa," but outside of this unit, he was 1st Lieutenant Nikolai Kovanich, XO for the team. The journal wasn't for him, and he made sure not to mention any classified material, but he had to leave something behind for his kids when he was old, grey, and couldn't remember anything worth a damn. This journal was that legacy. And, what if he died on this new mission? He couldn't let his daughter grow up without knowing what his daddy did and how much he loved his little Katherine and how proud he was of everything she'd accomplish.

Above Jolly, the heaviest man in the group lay. He was already near-deaf from his machine gun's firing, so his headphones were turned up to the highest level as he piloted his ship in some racing game called Wipeout or something, the rest of the team never bothered to remember it. But Master Chief Petty Officer Harry Wilde, known to his friends as "Tarzan" was addicted to the game. Wehnever he wasn't training or working, he was gaming. Well, was gaming. One of the AI-controlled racers fired a rocket at his ship and blew it up. "Motherfucker!" Tarzan punched his pillow and shut his game off, burying his face into his sheets to calm down. His emotions always got the best of him, and his chest and side still had bandages from Operation Olympia to prove it.

The final and fourth man sat above Koopa's bunk, cross-legged and eyes closed, Chief Petty Officer Jung Park was the quietest member of the team. He was the antithesis of Tarzan's loud abrasiveness. Each time before a mission, Jung Park, known as "Ninja," would sit and clear his head of any doubts or misgivings about his mission. He would only go into an operation with the highest confidence about his team's ability and his ability as a scout sniper. Ninja sat there, unmoving, constantly thinking of his mantra, We are Remnant, because we survive. We are Remnant, because everyone else dies.

Jolly's phone lit up. Apparently, he still had something, but not a signal that carried to the URA. He picked it up and saw it was a text from "E.A.C." The name he'd put in for Garcia. It stood for Emmerian Asshole Commander, an inside joke with the Sentinel team due to Garcia's rough and gruff arrival at the end of Olympia. The text was simple, "Briefing." To Jolly, that meant, simply enough, get to the briefing room. Probably for a briefing(Oddly enough) on this new op he'd been hearing about. Jolly stood, tapped Tarzan's shoulder so he'd take off his headphones and then looked at each of his soldiers. "Alright, guys. Enough sitting around, you're gonna get fat and pasty if you keep it up. So let's get up and take a nice double-time trounce over to the briefing room to get a new Op that hopefully won't end up with Tarzan getting a few new holes in him that cause trouble for all of us." The retort earned a chuckle from Ninja and Koopa and a grunt from Tarzan. No sooner than he'd spoken had the squad as a whole left their bunk room and headed down the halls to the briefing room, which they noticed had already become quite full with the SpecOps personnel from the other various units in TF Atlas.

Image

Image

Image

Image
Last edited by The United Remnants of America on Sun Aug 17, 2014 3:05 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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
Padnak
Negotiator
 
Posts: 6408
Founded: Feb 19, 2014
Ex-Nation

Postby Padnak » Sun Aug 17, 2014 5:45 pm

Revelation Carrier

"This is shilkev, touching down now" -Shilkev

Sliding the elderly Ka-27TBs rear door open, the newly arrived P.S.W.B. members disembarked from the exhaust stained soviet built helicopter and onto the rolling deck of the carrier. Running late the four P.S.W.B members grabbed their gear out of the helicopters side mounted cargo pod before setting off to the briefing they had most likely missed. The four operatives were the only members of the P.S.W.B not occupied with the escalating Haun Delta conflict back home, a conflict that had sprung up days after Padnak's entry into the joint force.

Moving as fast as they could short of running the four Padnakies cinched up their gear and began making they way to the briefing room.

(OOC: sorry for such a short post, totally burned atm but I didn't want to get left out)
"มีใบมีดคมและจิตใจที่คมชัด!"
Have a sharp blade, and a sharper mind!
Need weapons for dubious purposes? Buy Padarm today!
San-Silvacian: Aug 11, 2011-Mar 20, 2015
Inquilabstan wrote:It is official now. Padnak is really Cobra Commander.

Bezombia wrote:It was about this time that Padnak slowly realized that the thread he thought was about gaming was, in fact, an eight story tall crustacean from the protozoic era.

Husseinarti wrote:Powered Borscht.

Because cosmonauts should never think that even in the depths of space they are free from the Soviet Union.

The Kievan People wrote:As usual, this is Padnak's fault, but we need to move on.

Immoren wrote:Again we've sexual tension that can be cut with a bowie.

User avatar
Torrumbarry
Diplomat
 
Posts: 924
Founded: Sep 08, 2012
Ex-Nation

Postby Torrumbarry » Sun Aug 17, 2014 6:29 pm

Onboard the Emmerian Coalition Carrier REVELATION
The "Rapier" VTOL, upon receiving clearance to disembark on the Emmerian Coalition carrier, rapidly descended. "GO, GO, GO!" Chief Special Warfare Operator Philip Mortlock roared at his comrades, as the AJAX-SH201 Rapier touched down. The Fire Team of elite Phantom Corps mustered, before hastening to the Briefing Chamber. The CANSOCC Fire Team comprised of CSWO Philip Mortlock, Special Warfare Operator First Class Aaron Halifax and Special Warfare Operators Third Class Alicia Beane, Thomas Iver and Kyle Verbeek; having assembled their deployment gear onboard (with considerable difficulty due to the juddering of the VTOL caused by aerial turbulence), the Corpsmen were poised to depart.
BUSY IRL - UNABLE TO POST



President: Rt. Hon. Lance Hemingway
Chancellor of the Exchequer: Rt. Hon. Abigail Thorpe
Constitutional King: His Eminence Edmund VII of House Adelaide
Population: RENOVATING-HARD HAT ZONE

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

Postby New Emmerian Coalition » Mon Aug 18, 2014 10:15 am

"Alright, I'm not going to bullshit any of you." Lennox synced his iDroid to the projector in the center of the room. On the screen appeared a diagram of a large MIRV missile, with eight warheads inside. "We're facing a threat which puts the fate of each and every man's home country here at risk."

A map of New Luanda appeared the screen. It zoomed onto one of the smaller islands, with icons over important areas. He purposely centered the map on a notable one -- a naval cove.

"Since the 1970s, the New Luandan Army has kept and maintained a stockpile of heavily sophisticated weaponry; everything from standard surplus firearms to our friends' MIRV, and have kept it well hidden from the world. To the average person, this looks like a naval graveyard, but it is far from that." Images flickered, showing various weapons systems. SAMs, Gatling Guns, and even Tomahawk Cruise Missiles. Two more icons appeared. "Earlier today, two Coalition A-164 aircraft were shot out of the sky following an unsuccessful strike on the island's MIRV installation, the planes spiraled into the ocean at these locations, and due to the hurricane conditions, will likely wash up soon. When this happens, there is no doubt that the generalissimo will preemptively launch his new toy."

More images flickered, marking the Revelation's location, as well as numerous other Coalition carriers and ships in the area. One was an Expeditionary Force (emmerian marines) vessel. Garrett stepped forward, and immediately addressed the soldiers.

"The expeditionary forces here have no chance of reaching the area in time, and even if they did, they'd be shot out of the sky by the hidden emplacements in the cove. I know you've all been through Hell, but we're asking you to jump right back in. The only way of reaching the MIRV base in time is to..." Garrett sighed. "Is to HALO jump in, and move through a shanty town; Little Luanca." He surveyed the room. "Preacher's team is still recovering from Olympia, and I'm sure you've all experienced your share of brutality. There's nothing holding anyone back from stepping off the op, the Chief's have deemed this an operation in Emmeria's interest, and will not force any international forces to assist the STIGRU operatives in their objective, that said, if they fail and the Coalition is reduced to ash, there's nothing stopping the generalissimo from utilizing the rest of his arsenal ; all eight MIRVs, to be exact."

"The rest of the information is being directed to your individual H.U.D.s, and any other device capable of receiving orders. iDroids are available for anyone who lacks a sophisticated communication device." Lennox said, pulling a crate out from under a table - it was filled with standard Coalition iDroids. "Any operative unwilling to participate in the operation will now go back to their bunk, and wait for dismissal from the task force. Everyone else, get your ass geared up and topside, we've got an apocalypse to stop."

"One more thing," Garrett called, "It's possible you'll be coordinating with General Chavez, acting superior of the Luandan Special Operations." He sighed. "If that occurs, all mission leadership will be redirected to him."

---

Without a second word, the STIGRU personnel were out of the room and loading up at the on-board armory. Lennox opted for the standard LBT-6094a Slick, with a custom MOLLE bandolier thrown over in place of a chest rig. He pulled an M8-R from the armory rack, and took three 35 round tac-mags along with it. Garcia and Santiago went for the standard medium body armor, but left out some of the armored plating in favor of tactical pads, in case riots broke out during the operation, or they met some unruly locals.

"Santiago, I want you packing the '30. If the plan goes sour, we need to be prepared to meet the opposing force head on--" Lennox said, buckling his battle belt. "Garcia, you and I are going to take point, and maneuver through the streets. The alleys are most likely flooded, so we'll need to keep our iDroids handy."

"iDroid is synced to helmet, and I'm packing the OBR." Garcia pulled the charging handle back on his 5.56 OBR, and let it go. "Rifle's brand new for once, heh, perfect first op."

"I'm ready--" Santiago tapped his helmet, the Solid Eye giving off a beep. "--let's move topside."

The team was on deck in moments, rain pelting them as they walked towards a specialized VTOL plane. (Are we doin the VTOL?) Lennox got aboard the plane with haste, and sat himself down in one of the seats. The pilot was standing near the entrance, assisting other teammates in climbing aboard and keeping from slipping. It'd be unfortunate to lose a man to the carrier deck and carelessness.

"Lennox, what happens if this Chavez guy takes over?" Garcia called.

"We follow his orders -- unless it puts anyone in danger. If that's the case we can cease contact and proceed on our previously specified objective!" It was tough to hear Lennox over the storm and the rotor blades. "The storm will be interfering with our comms, so stay close but try your best not to bunch up." He said into his earpiece. "Squad Leaders, make sure you've got a flare, or some sort of non-electronic means of emergency contact - STIGRU carries Orange, I repeat, Orange flares. Watch out for them if your squad is lost in the waters, lord knows what we'll find down there."

---

The waters rose abruptly, as the storm pillaged Luanda. Two men moved through the streets, heavily armed and wearing some sort of cloak, with body armor under. They approached a small shack-esc building, and kicked down the door. They began calling to the inhabitants of the building to step out with their arms raised, or be shot when they enter. Tourists, petrified, stepped out. One of the men aimed his rifle up, and began speaking to one of them.

"We need supplies." He struggled a bit with the sentences. "Food, water, medicine." He gestured with the rifle, motioning towards a cabinet. "Can you open?" He asked.

"No, it's empty." The man replied, obviously shaken. The armed militant looked at his comrade, and shook his head. They mumbled a bit, and finally the militant turned back to the frightened tourist.

"Open it." He said, sternly.

The tourist looked back, into another room, before turning back at the militant. He could barely speak, all he could do was mouth 'Don't,'

The militants conversed once more. The second nodded his head, and slung his rifle around his shoulder. His comrade used his rifle butt and smacked the tourist in the face, the man dropping and clutching his jaw. He turned the corner to find a woman clutching what looked like a kitchen knife. He aimed his rifle at her,

"Don't move! Don't move!" He called in broken english, as his partner looted the cabinet and various other containers. He pulled various pill bottles out, and three cans of food. He walked to his comrade, pat him on the back, and exited the room.

RATATATA!

"Freakin' tourists." The militant said, walking out to meet his partner. He pulled out a radio. "Marketplace is clear, no signs of civilian presence."

"What were you able to scavenge?" A voice chattered back in an urgent tone.

"Blood pressure pills, some prescription pain killers, and some pork and beans." The militant responded. "Minimal use of force."

"Alright, get back to base, Tiger 10."

"Will do, Lieutenant." The man motioned his partner.

The man inside was still alive, but barely. He managed to stand up, and look out the doorway. The two militants faded away, like phantoms. Before they vanished, seemingly into thin air, he could make out the Luandan flag on their shoulders. They were also using Luandan service rifles, AK-103s. He was dumbfounded.

"I thought they were supposed to rescue us..." He whimpered.

More vehicles could be heard in the distance. He slowly sunk to the floor.

"Shoulda never left Steeleport." He pulled a cigarette out. "Shoulda stayed in the Garrison..."

(OOC: Yup, crazy militant tourists who are gonna shoot at anyone wearing a uniform. Plot twist!)
Current Location: Gone Rogue @ DZ02 Steeleport

User avatar
Torrumbarry
Diplomat
 
Posts: 924
Founded: Sep 08, 2012
Ex-Nation

Postby Torrumbarry » Mon Aug 18, 2014 11:58 am

Um, yeah. Whatever.


Emmerian Coalition Aircraft Carrier REVELATION
The Phantom Corps Fire Team had taken seats at the rear of the Briefing Chamber, arriving in the nick of time prior to the conference commencing; formalities aside, Mortlock wasn't especially fond on the ATLAS agent addressing them, whom he regarded as a rather sanctimonious fellow, although he presumed that the man would be a dependable comrade in combat. Unlike their foreign counterparts, the Phantom Corps Fire Team did not require an excursion to the Armory, as their firearms had been selected prior to their arrival on the Revelation. "You heard the man," Mortlock muttered to his Fire Team "get your s*** together and ditch your EXO-Structural Reinforcement Systems 'cause their too cumbersome."
With a chorus of groans, the EXO Systems were discarded in their allocated quarters, and instead a venerable yet light precursor to the Mark.VI, the Mark.II Lower-Limb EXO-Structural Reinforcement System served as its substitute. All members of the Fire Team were equipped with L-3 GPNVG-18 - ANVIS Mounted Panoramic View Night Vision Goggles, as well as inflatable buoyancy devices and a Pantheon Military Industries Mark.XIV Stab-Ballistic Amphibious Spectra Shield Tactical System Suit. Due to the possibility of amphibious combat and the unlikelihood of decent visibility in the New Laudan weather conditions, Iver [Callsign: Mongoose], the allocated Marksman of the Fire Team, had traded in his Accuracy International L115A3 AWM for a fully supressed FN SCAR MK20 Model, alongside his Pantheon Military Industries M-AAS46 Amphibious Assault Rifle and his beloved Sig Sauer P226.

Halifax [Callsign: Scarecrow], usually the allocated Automatic Rifleman, had his Elexis SR-R transceiver straddled on his back. He carried a Bushmaster ACR with a Pantheon Military Industries[i] SI-67H4 Hybrid Sight and a dependable, robust AK-74u (for its all-conditions capabilities).

Mortlock [Callsign: Overlord], the Fire Team's commander and allocated grenadier (although he did not intend to bring his underslung [i]Pantheon Military Industries
"Chubby Charlie" Mark.XXIV Underslung Grenade Launcher), was equipped with FN SCAR CQC and an Smith & Wesson 686.357 Revolver.

Beane [Callsign: Banshee], the Medic, carried a Heckler and Koch MP5SD-N and a Sig Sauer P226.

Verbeek [Callsign: Wasp], the Reconnaissance Scout, was equipped with an FN SCAR STD and a Sig Sauer P226.

"Back to the Rapier. Hustle up! Scarecrow, do us a favor and request bailout oxygen tanks," Mortlock ordered "Banshee, get Scarecrow's pack. Load up! We're gonna deploy when ATLAS Command have pulled their thumbs outta their asses and given us the green light!"
Last edited by Torrumbarry on Wed Aug 20, 2014 8:38 pm, edited 3 times in total.
BUSY IRL - UNABLE TO POST



President: Rt. Hon. Lance Hemingway
Chancellor of the Exchequer: Rt. Hon. Abigail Thorpe
Constitutional King: His Eminence Edmund VII of House Adelaide
Population: RENOVATING-HARD HAT ZONE

User avatar
Ghondra
Senator
 
Posts: 4354
Founded: Feb 07, 2014
Ex-Nation

Postby Ghondra » Mon Aug 18, 2014 1:30 pm

"Just another day at the Office eh?" The Big Guy said nonchalantly, his hands propping up his head as he leans back, putting his weight onto the creaking chair, "Get your gear, we're leaving ASAP" The Captain said, leading the team to the Armory, "You got it Boss-man" Speedo said, before following the rest of the squad into the Armory.

The Armory was in itself, a gun enthusiast's paradise, weapons of all assortments and types, from Shotguns, to Machine guns, from Pistols, Assault Rifle. The mission was hardly standard by any means, for one they were jumping into the hurricane, which is in itself, a completely insane concept, and for another, the Hurricane had prevented satellite transmissions, so the only geography that could be studied were the maps, which was hardly reliable since they didn't include military installations.

"Choose at your own discretion, choose the most versatile weaponry, and don't limit your equipment, if you have an SMG, bring a Shotgun, Henrietta, bring a Mk. 14 EBR, use an SMG for a secondary, the rest of you, bring versatile equipment, but don't make it too bulky, got it?" The Captain finished, packing himself a M5B3 Carbine, and a light FP-337 Machine Pistol, Ghondran made, while a loud chorus of affirmatives followed his little speech.

Within 10 minutes, the 21st RIOG was squared away for the Op, loading the VTOL, and geared for a healthy dose of Insanity, courtesy of the Emmerians.

------

"Wha?" Speedo asked himself, his helmet covered in mud, his head ringing, and his eyes blurry, his senses was shot, and he couldn't see, smell, or hear anything beyond the interior of his helmet, the last thing he remembered was having his chute torn open by the wind, he knew this was a bad idea, "Who goes there?" A shaky and panicked voice asked, belonging to that of no one he know, not Emmerian, not Ghondran, and most definitely not a friendly. "Shit!" Speedo whispered to himself, trying to reboot his helmet's optical enhancer, "You're mine now!" A voice said, before he felt the butt of a rifle hitting his head, the last thing he heard before the darkness of unconsciousness claimed him was the sound of a voice, his voice "Speedo, are you there, Speed? Michael? Michael?!"
⚧Copy and paste this in your sig if you passed biology and know gender and sex aren't the same thing ⚧
I'M A MEMBER OF THOUGHT CAFE
WE'RE THE AWESOMEST, COME CHECK US OUT

CURRENT STATUS: Splendid Isolation
IS A: Democratic Socialist, Liberal, ENTP/ENFP
Agrees on:
Gay Marriage, Civil Rights, Military Interventionism, Capitalism with Limits, Theory of Evolution, Equality for all, Free Education, and Universal Healthcare, Legalisation of Marijuana
Disagree on:
Militant Atheism, Wars of Aggression, Communism, Welfare to Parasites, Nazism, Fascism, Militarism.
Economic Left/Right: -3.88
Social Libertarian/Authoritarian: -1.13

Exelia wrote:It's all good till you have to wear a badge.

Listen to Jord, its good for your health

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

Postby The GAmeTopians » Mon Aug 18, 2014 2:52 pm

OOC: Trying to squeeeeeeeze meself in, been waiting for this op for AGES.
Also, I cut down my active force to 4 since 21 was a bit too much. :p :clap:
Image

Image

Image

Image

IC:
Colonel Jackson groggily opened her eyes and sat up. She was on the Revelation Carrier as leader of her TF Atlas team. She glanced at her clock, gasped, and rushed to get ready.
"S**t! we're late for the briefing!" She hastily donned her uniform and weapons and hurried over to the team rooms.
"Guys! We're late for the briefing!" She heard scuffling in the rooms, and soon enough, her team burst out into the corridor. Colonel Jackson called Garrett and Lennox up on her comm.
"So, did we miss much?"
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
Congreveopia
Minister
 
Posts: 3434
Founded: Dec 09, 2013
Ex-Nation

Postby Congreveopia » Mon Aug 18, 2014 4:13 pm

The Platinum Soldiers walked out of the room as the briefing ended. The clarification that they could drop out was logical, this mission would be on a different level from everything they’d done before. But there certain things that armies had perfected over the millennia, and each one of them had gone through basic training and the idea of just quitting because the op sounded tough was unthinkable.

“Flitter, meet me in the armoury.” said Charles as he walked.

“Going to say goodbye?” asked Thomas. “I didn’t think you had an emotional side like that.”

“Not really.” said Charles, with a faint smile.

“You cannot possibly be thinking of bringing that thing with us on this-” said Leighton.

“Oh look.” interrupted Charles. “We’re here.”

As they walked in, Charles saw Flitter hadn’t arrived yet, so he waited by the door. Thirty seconds later, a robotic hummingbird buzzed down the hallway towards him. It was white, with a few black glass patches covering up Flitter’s tiny sensors. An LCD screen, less than a centimeter wide replaced the hummingbird’s face. The screen showed a white circle on a black background, Flitter’s eye. Briefly, the background switched to yellow, and the eye turned happy upon seeing Charles. The hummingbird landed on a metal rail on Charles’s right shoulder, and began charging through its feet. Charles turned and walked into the armoury where the rest of his squad was already getting their gear together.

“Here’s the notes from command.” said Leighton, sending him a file “They aren’t ordering all of this, but I’d pay attention to it if I were you.”

Subject: Information about loadout for upcoming operation.

Classification: Bravo Nine. This document will not delete upon viewing.

Required gear:

-Primary weapon must use 5.56x45 rounds.
-Dataholder(Uplink is unreliable. You need to take island models with you, and have a place to save large recordings to.)
-Live datanalisis unit (Uplink is unreliable. Environment overlays, etc. cannot be delegated to Nexus).
-All equipment must be waterproof, or in a waterproof container. If it is in a waterproof container, make sure you will not need it in a wet environment.
-Some non-electric signaling method (Emmeria requested this.)

Suggestions:

-Do not take more than you can swim with. In sim, several people had to drop gear in hostile territory to navigate flooded areas.
-In sim, some people used small oxy tanks to hide underwater with great effect. It is unknown how well this will work with flowing water filled with debris.
-Wind may range from 100 to 150 mph. If a drone flies slower than this, it cannot be used outside or you will lose it.
-A pistol capable of firing underwater may be useful. Three people found reason to use theirs in sim (out of twenty who brought them).
-Wear waterproof goggles instead of glasses.
-Use separate waterproof cases for containers you are willing to open in the rain, indoors and underwater.
-Be aware that baggy clothing and gear will slow you down in the water.
-Be aware that you will need to also carry a parachute and oxy for the jump.
-Do not rely on radio communications.
-Bring waterproof NV gear for underwater and in buildings without power.
-Neither solar power, nor mains power will work. Plan accordingly when deciding what drones to bring. Remember how heavy batteries are, but make sure you have enough power to run your onboard systems for the duration of the op.
-Bring some sort of emergency flotation device, but do not use it in combat, as it is not stealthy and renders you an easy target.
-Enemy vehicles will probably not be a large concern, as evading them will be easy in the hurricane, and they will not be able to cross much of the terrain.
-Many of your sensors will not work in the rain. Do not be surprised by this.
-High winds will occur. Make sure your headphones are waterproof AND have a noise canceling mode.
-The rain will greatly reduce visibility. Plan accordingly.
-Learn to appreciate the feeling of lying in mud. :)


“That last one is a nice touch.” said Charles as he began gathering gear for the operation. Flitter jumped of the rail and made a surprised chirp when he took off his shirt, and the rail with it. “Sorry.” said Charles.

Several of the other groups had left by the time the Platinum Soldiers were ready, but they weren’t the last, so they didn’t worry they were causing a delay. To cut down on weight, none of them carried their anti-tank launchers and their drones were only small indoor ones. For outdoor use, they brought more camera balls and some all weather cameras to stick on trees and walls. They all had more powerful radios than normal, and Charles carried a deployable radio that might be able to get through to their satellites if the storm eased up... a lot. They wore drysuits with an integrated life vest that could be inflated by a tab pull. They took their regular rifles with slings, but opted for MP7s instead of pistols in case they needed to drop their rifles for swimming. John did not bother to take any of his marksman’s equipment because of the low visibility and the poor radio communications giving him no way to see a distant target. They took flares and powerful headlamps for signaling if their radios didn’t work. They carried a lower number of grenades and no smoke grenades. They all took small compressed oxygen canisters, granting them about twenty breaths each if they needed it. They also brought larger first aid kits and meal replacement bars for helping civilians if they needed to. They took their standard helmets, which were already waterproof, but opted for waterproof goggles in place of their regular glasses and waterproof noise-canceling headphones. They also wore a dataholder, datanalisis unit and extra batteries in a slim waterproof backpouch under their wetsuits. They took light waterproof backpacks, subdivided into compartments for the cameras and camera balls, the supplies, light regular gear and spare ammo. Instead of a vest, which would cause drag in the water, the legs of their drysuits had zippered pockets, which held two clips of ammo in velcro straps each. All their clothing was black.

Charles grabbed the shoulder-rail from his discarded clothes, and attached it to his shoulder again and then the squad walked out of the armoury carrying their backpacks, parachutes and oxygen for the jump in hand. Flitter perched on Charles’s shoulder.

“This place should really have more signs.” said Leighton as they hit their third dead-end, two minutes after leaving the armoury.

“We’ve grown soft from Nexus guiding us.” said John “Now that we’re using all our bandwith downloading maps, we don’t get glowing arrows guiding us around the ship.”

A minute later, they found the stairs up to the island, and Leighton, walking in front, opened the door onto the deck. Wind and rain swept into the stairwell, and Charles quickly slipped Flitter into one of his drysuit’s waterproof pockets before stepping outside. Flitter chirped in surprise, but didn’t try to fly, sensing something obstructing its wings. Once in Charles’s pocket, Flitter sensed the enclosed dark enviroment, and went to sleep to save power. The squad carefully worked their way across the wet and shifting deck of the carrier and into the relatively calm belly of the V-tol, where they found seats and strapped in. Charles took out Flitter and put the robot back on his shoulder, then they all took out their PCUs and began reviewing maps of the island.

Image
"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
Yngen
Diplomat
 
Posts: 679
Founded: Jun 17, 2014
Ex-Nation

Postby Yngen » Mon Aug 18, 2014 4:31 pm

Armed and armoured, the three Imperial troops piled into the VTOL alongside the STIGRU operatives. They were all in BASS and MASS equipment, the armour looking like scale over plate, in a dull digital brown and tan, which they figured was their best bet to blend in with the mud, rust and chaos of an island storm nation, and beneath their visual visors were HALO-capable respirators, parachutes on their back. Sekken carried a sleek looking ARTEMIS anti-materiel system and a MARS pattern rifle, whilst Kiele carried an LCRS sniper rifle, backed by nothing but a ZEUS sidearm, which all her comrades carried. Their leader, Fare, carried a MARS rifle, two ZEUS handguns and spare ammunition for the others.

Fare sat down next to Lennox, grunting a brief hello to the STIGRU officer. He assumed the STIGRU officer was already well aware of the personnel available to him, so did not waste time introducing himself as he helped himself to orange flares, flipping some towards his subordinates.
"We're attaching ourselves to your squad for this Op - not enough of us to operate independently. Not according to command."
-GO STAMPEDERS / GREY CUP 2014.-
-Ingen - "The Eyes of Justice"-
-Laptev Axis is best Axis-


The Jade Empire of Ingen; a vast, anachronistic, character-driven FT superpower
You want realism? In what 'realistic' nation would you be in charge?

User avatar
Padnak
Negotiator
 
Posts: 6408
Founded: Feb 19, 2014
Ex-Nation

Postby Padnak » Mon Aug 18, 2014 4:50 pm

Revelation Carrier

Finally making there way into the briefing room the four Padnaki's found a spot at the back before taking off their maroon green stetsons and setting down their KAK-14s. With their simple green fatigues and beat up looking equipment the Padnakies looked decidedly less professional then the rest of their new comrades, but in do course the rest of the force would come to appreciate that war didn't need fancy equipment to be fought.

Finishing what was left of the briefing the Padnaki soldiers, with a new found spring in their step after learning that the operation would test their abilities, made their way to the armoury. Well, saying they made their way to the armor is like saying that Russia is a democratic country, sure its true but it doesn't really explain the situation fully. Spending what felt like a decade walking aimlessly around the grey steel corridors it was only when Hou heard the Congreveopian contingent talking amongst themselves that the P.S.W.B. members actually found the armoury.

Unlike many of their comrades, the Padnakies fought extremely light. Looking over the vast amount of firepower stored inside the armoury, they took nothing but a few extra hand grenades to replace their unreliable locally produced ones before setting off once again into the vast bowels of the aircraft carrier to find their way back to the fight deck. Finally escaping the steel behemoth the four PSWB operatives, hunched against the flight decks rotor wash, made their way towards the waiting VTOL before hulling themselves and their gear inside.

Image

Image

Image

Image
"มีใบมีดคมและจิตใจที่คมชัด!"
Have a sharp blade, and a sharper mind!
Need weapons for dubious purposes? Buy Padarm today!
San-Silvacian: Aug 11, 2011-Mar 20, 2015
Inquilabstan wrote:It is official now. Padnak is really Cobra Commander.

Bezombia wrote:It was about this time that Padnak slowly realized that the thread he thought was about gaming was, in fact, an eight story tall crustacean from the protozoic era.

Husseinarti wrote:Powered Borscht.

Because cosmonauts should never think that even in the depths of space they are free from the Soviet Union.

The Kievan People wrote:As usual, this is Padnak's fault, but we need to move on.

Immoren wrote:Again we've sexual tension that can be cut with a bowie.

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

Postby The United Remnants of America » Mon Aug 18, 2014 5:07 pm

The Sentinel team stepped into the armory and smiled upon reaching their section of equipment. Jolly looked to his team as he put a hairband in his beard to keep it together. "Alright guys, you know the drill, take your base equipment and weapons. Koopa, you and me take MPA. Ninja, you take LPAsn, and Tarzan, I want you in the HPA. I don't think we'll be needing any optical stealth equipment, since the heavy rain and debris might damage it, so we're going in visibly naked." As he spoke, Koopa and himself changed into their Medium Personnel Armor while Tarzan changed into the Heavy version and Ninja slipped into the Light sniper variant.

All four men pulled out their combat knives, NVGs, sat-phones, a pair of infrared contacts(just in case) and put on their X-Com Tactical Communications System. Ninja picked up a pair of binoculars , a jammer, and a portable decoding system. Jolly pulled up his own binoculars, an arm-mounted mini-com and started to go through the small stock of drones the URA had supplied his team. Koopa went over to the weapons while Tarzan pulled out a Meta-Shield. Tarzan though of grabbing a shoulder-mounted mini-missile launcher, but thought better of it, the wind could damage it. Jolly looked through his mini-com, "Hey guys, you think that Lennox would let me bring a Rhino?" The team chuckled as the moved onto their weapons. The Rhino was a quadrupedal armored drone that was armed with a mortar and a quided-rocket launcher. The thought of dropping in with the 1200lb vehicle made them smile.

All the team pulled out their complements of grenades and HK P30 pistols while Jolly pulled an extra flare, as per Lennox's orders. Jolly took his SCAR up even as Koopa strapped on his ACR, Tarzan picked up his M240 and Nina armed his M2010.

As the team went topside and walked towards the VTOL, each Sentinel checked his back to double-check that they did indeed have a high-altitude parachute on. Each man walked up the ramp and sat down on the seats opposite the STIGRU team. Koopa smiled and called out, "Hey, Lennox, how do you feel about drones?" The question drew a grin from Tarzan and Ninja while Jolly gave him a dirty look.
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

Next

Advertisement

Remove ads

Return to International Incidents

Who is online

Users browsing this forum: Exabot [Bot], Korolevia, Razzgriz

Advertisement

Remove ads