Operation: Dark Sun [Project Warfighter] [IC]

[The GAmeTopians]

Project Warfighter's newest newbie RP

Deep in the heart of GAmeCity, two tall white buildings penetrated the low fog, bursting into the hidden sunlight. On the top connected floor of these buildings, The Marble Towers, a secret meeting was going on.
HeartStrom Conference Room A
"What are we going to do about this, chaps?" Commander Constantin asked the small group in the dark, quiet conference room. This was the securest room in the entirety of GAmeCity, outside of the palace of course. The thick metal doors were lined with bulletproof carbon plating, as were the walls. Heavily armed guards patrolled the corridor outside, and 4 stood in the corners of the room inside. As Commander Constantin spoke, the ATLAS logo flashed on the retina display contained inside the conference table, soon replaced by a map of GAmeCity.

"We have been tasked with testing the newest members of ATLAS, and we have already decided to stage a kidnapping of one member of each squad. But we have a slight problem: how do we make sure that none of our guys get injured? We can't replace everyone's bullets with paintballs or anything, that would give the game up from the beginning."
The administrators that sat in the conference room murmured amongst themselves, confounded by this problem. None of them had the suitable military knowledge for this question, instead preferring the administrative aspect of military affairs. One of the soldiers standing in the corner stepped into the light for a moment, and passed a handwritten note to Commander Constantin. He read it, and saluted the soldier, who returned the salute and stepped back into the shadows.
"Okay, everyone. Sergeant Hadria has apparently heard that Shadowdark Armaments has developed a nonlethal bullet. It'll give the target nasty bruises and knock him or her out, but it won't puncture the skin no matter what you do. Now with that problem solved, down to business. We need bad guys. We should pit the newbies against the best of the best. Therefore, I suggest the following: NEC, URA, Congreveopia, USSDEN, Vancon, Hurtful Thoughts, and our team: Team HellBent. Let us invite their respective teams to Shadow Island, and we'll describe the idea to them further when they arrive. Everyone in this room knows their job after I stop talking. Right?"
The administrators murmured their assent, and the room quickly cleared out.

TO:
New Emmerian Coalition
United Remnants of America
Congreveopia
United Socialist States of Die Erworbenen Namen
Vancon
Hurtful Thoughts
FROM: Royal Empire of The GAmeTopians
ENCRYPTION: Maximum
SUBJECT: Operation: Dark Sun

Good day,
The government of the Royal Empire of The GAmeTopians hereby invites your special operations squads that are involved with ATLAS to attend an important meeting regarding our newest training operation. Please send them to Shadow Island, an island just off the coast of the Royal Empire. The meeting must commence as soon as possible.
Sincerely,
Commander Constantin of REGT Special Affairs

OOC: All right, folks. Here it is! But first, a bit of housekeeping:

1. This is a Project Warfighter only event, you can sign up here.
2. I am the OP of this project. I am God.
3. Both NEC and URA are the OPs of PW. They are god in the event that I am not online.
4. Anyone I designate as a Co-OP of this project is also God in the event that I am not online.
5. Follow the rules of Project Warfighter.
6. This is really the most important one: Don't be an asshole. It's that simple.
7. Don't godmod, metagame, etc.
8. I reserve the right to add rules that I may have forgotten, so don't bother trying to exploit my absentmindedness.
9. Most of all, HAVE FUN!

[Servinta]

Operation: Dark Sun
Time:CLASSIFIED
Location:CLASSIFIED

"HOW FAR NOW?" Vlad had to yell above the helicopters engine which roared in its powering of the massive blades spinning above them.

"ABOUT TWENTY NAUTICAL MILES TILL WE ARRIVE COMRADE!" The nameless new pilot shouted back into the microphone, adding to the already unbearable noise made by the engines.

"He said the same thing ten minutes ago, as usual the fly-boys panic when totting us about." Kirill The team medic commented with his usual apathetic monotone voice common among men in his profession.

"Well we did lose the last three to anti-air, and that was just a training exercise so if I was them I'd be a bit cautious as well." Nikita added the obvious reasoning into the conversation, and he did so with much evidence to support the claim.He like most in the team, had been scarred not only by combat but by the almost crudely implemented training scenarios that the Servintan high command was know for using to keep the military in a state of preparedness.

"Whatever, their dragging us behind schedule ... By the way what are we behind schedule for again?" Kormag growled as he lifted his sunglasses he had been using to rest his eyes behind, only to be constantly kept awake by the rocking of the helicopter and engine sounds.

"Uggh, we had a hour long brief over this.We have been called upon by the GAmeTopians to take part in an ATLAS exercise and our glorious leader has seen fit to send us upon this most noble request." Vlad reminded the Seinor petty lascar of the dry and ultimately information spars briefing they had to sit through before being allowed to act.

The mission was presented to the Thriteenth Kommandos by the Department of Information Distribution, who had apparently disseminated the whole slideshow for the brief from the communique sent by an ATLAS liasion in GAmeTopia to Servinta.What was known to them was that the operation codenammed 'Dark Sun' was a new form of training exercise that had come about as a newly developed sub-type of projectile that was capable of bring pain without the possibility of death, even if used by high velocity weapons like sniper rifles and machine guns if the rumors and info in the slideshow were correct.Vlad of course doubted this as he was familiar with the idea of 'less than lethal weaponry' and having used it several times in his career he knew that most of these systems were capable but as far as foolproof went they always found a way to kill or seriously injure someone.

"Oh yes, that brief, I slept through that one!" Kormag grunted as he lowered the shades again and returned to his fitful attempt at sleep.

"Of course you did." Vlad said, making a mental note that while the commissar was not going to be with them on this excursion, that punishments would be handed out to Kormag by Bogdan once they returned home to the awaiting floggings.

The helicopter made a slow but steady descent as they further talked about little details of the mission that had confounded the varous members of the team, Kormag having given up his attempts at sleep was one of the more active questioners in the group and was more than equally informed by Vlad and Kirill with deep sarcasm.Shadow Island turned from a small speck on the water to a large landmass as the machine lowered onto the helipad of Shadow Regalia Military Base, a GAmeTopian military installation that was to be the meeting place for the many teams invited to the operation.

It's landing went on without much fan-fair and as soon as the helicopter had divulged its cargo of Servintan commandos, it took off and moved to a separate landing zone for refueling and to make space for any other heli-craft that would soon be bringing the other teams to the island.

[Hurtful Thoughts]

((Noodle-incident, the less explained 'bout it the better))

The Hurti arrival was somewhat less dignified; due to a miscommunication over what sort of mission it was (not helped by the 3 second briefing), they had brought live ammunition and initially treated the airport security staff as hostile. Needless to say, their Mi-17 took some damage and almost the entire squad was promptly sent to the brig and Kayora's two drones were confiscated before they could be put to use.

After a lengthy explanation regarding what the rest of the world considered a training mission, and how it differed against what the Hurti were ever used to doing, they were released without their weapons and told once again to draw a fresh stock of equipment from the armory.

Thankfully there was a hefty stock of Folsom carbines, as they had developed a distaste for the new-standard ARG7G's recoil, weight, and complexity; while at the same time becoming more than disenchanted with the lethality and inaccuracy of the formerly-standard M-8R when pitted against both while armed almost exclusively with both. They also cited that the non-EBR Folsoms were surplus and used readily-available materials that would in no way harm the defense-industry.

The Folsoms also came with a bayonet actually worth mentioning.

Afterwards, it was simply an issue of getting acquainted with sight-alignment and trigger-pull. Only then did they consider themselves once again ready to obey orders.

Somewhere, someone brought-up they needed a volunteer for a prisoner. This role had to be further clarified that the prisoner is *NOT* under any circumstance to escape upon their own gumption.

Their squad leader -Ira Strank- volunteered. As he wanted to see how they'd perform in the event he'd bought the farm.

[[Note for those who don't want to wade through forums: Due to attrition, the team has been reduced to Foyt, Gibbons, Kayora, and Strank]]

[The United Remnants of America]

The Blackhawk, known to the Remnant Air Force as the H-7 Utility Helicopter, arrived only an hour or so after the arrival of the much-loved Hurti team. It was noted by the six operators and one support element present that the Hurti helo looked like it had taken damage.

"Either Strank's team got in a firefight with a flock of rebellious brids along the way, or the Hurtis have really cut back their spending on using new choppers." Jolly chuckled as Tarzan leaned away from him. The team had unloaded 4 crates of supplies and weapons, since everyone was wearing mess outfits for the transit, and had unloaded the good, old N2 Rhino the Sentinel team had taken to love so dearly.

Now, Jolly, Koopa, Tarzan, Ninja, Jackie, Oreo, and O'Malley stood more or less huddled in a group. Koopa moved a little over towards the Hurti team to nudge his more-or-less counterpart, Kayora, "Y'know, I didn't notice your babies sitting in the hangar or supply room. Did you not bring your drones? I was really looking forward to us having a bit of a play date." Koopa grinned and wiggled his eyebrows at his sad attempt at flirtatious humor.

Jolly nodded at Strank's volunteering and voiced his own opinion. "Ira's good. Though, from what I've heard through the base personnel and through chatter, don't you think you might be a little... jumpy, Ira?" Jolly grinned at his own banter. Down the line, Tarzan stifled a laugh while Ninja remained as expressionless as ever. Jackie kept her dutiful look about her, and the two youngest team members, Oreo and O'Malley, simple looked uncomfortable around the Hurti team and the knowledge of other legendary SF operators joining them. They felt like the minnows on Mount Olympus, as it were.

[Hurtful Thoughts]

((Assuming he's asking why I didn't bring out the drones earlier))

"On Helieos we were in the middle of a hurricane, UAVs would've been dead-wieght. And during what happened on the ship... lets just say there wasn't really any opportunity to use them indoors." Kayora swiftly responded to Koopa's nudge by punching him in the shoulder with her weak-hand as a warning to knock it off. If he didn't get the hint, that was what her strong hand was still good for.

She then glanced at the new Rhino, and smirked. "Besides, your toys are more fun to play with." Hinting at that one time she patched into a few of the otherwise non-sentient ground-vehicles. Although running multiple remote vehicles at the same time was a strain, she had been originally trained to coordinate an entire national defense-grid worth of drones... as a small child... Temporarily stealing Nexus's thunder was never beyond her reach, yet Gibbons still mistrusted her combat-prowess while Foyt constantly questioned her loyalties.

Meanwhile, Strank didn't see any particular reason to be jumpy... just because nationals from the same military he was working with recently tried to kill them didn't seem too out of place; with protocol 84 now in place, false-flag operations were a vulnerability of the past.

Another Mi-8 disembarked troopers, the Thirteenth Kommandoes, naturally were late to arrive, but at least seemed to conduct themselves in a more gentlemany and dignified manner than any of the other units of Atlas, he'd almost mistaken them for Nicksylvanians on at least one instance.

But then he saw Koopa getting 'friendly' with Kayora. A fist clenched.

[Servinta]

Going through a gear check for all equipment they had brought with them, a dull task that even required a confirmation of the helicopter's serial number.The Servintan 13th Kommando 'Sharks' were finally relived to know that for once everything command had promised them was provided and present for their use during combat operations.Marking off checklists was annoying to men who were more concerned with killing others, but Vlad was in command and he was a cautious man when it came to moving around with multi-million Mark gear that he personally would have to vouch for when they returned home.

Done with the boring part of being soldiers, the team collected what was immediately necessary for their comfort and safety and left the rest under the secure gaurd of two scrawny pilots wielding pistols and knives.As was procedure, the team said nothing to the foreign military personal that ran about the base performing menial tasks to keep the facility running in good military order.

Entering the Briefing room Vlad saw two other groups of what he suspected were the Hurt and Remnant specialist operators conversing among themselves while they awaited his own and other teams arrival.He wasn't really keen on what they were speaking of but words like "UAV" and "drones" were the sort of things that he and most other Servintan military personal were unfamiliar with, and therefore he had no clue what to say about them.

"Comrades, it is good to see you have managed to arrive here faster than some of our transports were.Speaking of which, what exactly do you know of what we are here for, sadly some of us are still in the dark about this whole assembly." He casted a eye to Kormag who grimaced in response to a subtle embarrassment among the team.

[Congreveopia]

Approaching Shadow Island, custom AW609 V-TOL:

“Approaching destination, prepare to disembark.” said the intercom.

“But I was just getting comfortable.” said Thomas to nobody in particular.

“It is nice not flying military grade transport for once.” said John “I doubt this thing would hold together long under fire, though.”

“Well it’s a good thing we’re not going into fire, then.” said Charles “I mean, look at this thing, though. Large plush seats that recline; in flight beverage and snack selection; internet access when over land. Typically we’re lucky if our seats have something soft over the metal frame.”

“Soft things tend to be flammable.” said Leighton “Anyways, don’t get used to it. I doubt many future operations will involve us being forced to heroically and skilfully deploy deep into the heart of a friendly nation by way of a borrowed Congreveopian government aircraft.”

“Man, the government gets this sort of ride?” said Charles “I’m considering going into politics now.”

“Landing now.” said the intercom. “Everyone off. If you leave any of your gear aboard, we are going to sell it on eBay.”

“Right, everyone out.” said Leighton “Don’t forget that items may have shifted during flight and all of that.” He picked up his two duffel bags and walked out of the aircraft. The rest of the squad followed, Charles pausing to grab a bag of chips from the snack bar on the way out.

As they walked out of the tiltrotor, its white and red Congreveopian government livery flashed in the sun, and instantly everyone felt a tad embarrassed about their transport when they saw the various hardened military helicopters that the other teams had traveled in. One of the helicopters even appeared to have been under fire recently for god knows what reason. Charles, without the slightest care about the image he was projecting of the Platinum Soldiers, opened the bag of chips he took and began eating them as the group walked to where the other squads were waiting.

“Hey.” said Leighton to the other teams “Anyone know where the GAmeTopians are, or what we’re meant to be doing here?”

[Servinta]

“Hey.” said Leighton to the other teams “Anyone know where the GAmeTopians are, or what we’re meant to be doing here?”

"Comrade, you and I are on the same boat, and bad news is theirs no paddles in canoe." Kormag blurted out in an inarticulate attempt at the common 'Up @$^& creek without a paddle' expression he had heard during another international exercise he had participated in.

"Idiot! excuse my freind here, he is ignorant to the phrases of the west and is trying to express our clueless with little success." Iglan the Point-man interrupted.

"Quite both of you!" Vlad said sternly to quiet his men.

"Ignore these sorry excuses for Proles, when they are not fighting they are causing damage in more ways than one.I am Fleet Levtenant Vlad, Servintan Peoples Spezhaulist Korps-Naval Directorate, 13th Kommandos, Alfa team, and it is a pleasure to meet you." He shook the mast forward of the Platinum Soldiers in an awkwardly strong handshake as it was not a common type of greeting in Servinta.

"And currently we are preparing to participate in a sort of OPFOR style training exercise for some of they newer groups that have stepped onto the scene.As for the GAmeTopians I have only seen their base personal running about in a hurry, likely preparing to support us during the operation soon to come.For now we are having the same questions you are comrades, come and join us." He was happy to see more people were as in the dark as he was and with that they were left to discuss their options as more and more teams arrived.

"I heard of you guys, 'Platinum Soldiers' high technologist of sorts with all sorts of gizmos and doo-dads." Nikita the teams Communicator said while peering closely at the odd looking weapons and equipment the Congreveopia operators carried.

[The GAmeTopians]

Speakers crackled to life throughout Shadow Island.
"Listen up, you lot!" A cheerful voice boomed through the speaker.
"Wheatley here, your helpful, versatile digital, artificial, and intelligent assistant. All Atlas personnel please report to Meeting Room 5 Gamma, and make it quick before the bossman gets angry. See you there!"
A squad of soldiers came out of one of the many doorways, and led them through a series of intricate hallways and checkpoints. Finally, they came upon a checkpoint that looked different from the rest. The soldier at the sealed, metal door spoke up.
"State yer names," He said in a gruff voice.

Elsewhere in the Royal Empire
Wheatley's core was buzzing, as he scanned the hallways of Shadow Complex.
"Ah! Here it is," he muttered. He made a viewer connection to the Congreveopian team's comms, and attempted to make a connection to Nexus.
"Oi! Nexus, buddy, you there! This is Wheatley, the GAmeTopian AI."

[Congreveopia]

“Don’t worry, I understand how squadmates can embarrass someone.” said Leighton with a laugh as he accepted Vlad’s handshake. He tipped his head in the direction of Charles, who was obliviously crunching away on the bag of chips. “I’m Sergeant Leighton Alexander, Congreveopian Platinum Soldiers.”

He listened as the Servintian explained the situation. It was good they hadn’t missed a briefing or anything, but he was curious to hear what the GAmeTopians were planning, so the sooner they arrived now the better in his mind.

"I heard of you guys, 'Platinum Soldiers' high technologist of sorts with all sorts of gizmos and doo-dads." said one of the Servinians in the background.

“That’s us all right.” said Charles with an awkwardly fake half-laugh. Leighton, being the quad leader, had been trained to be able to make natural and easy conversation with anyone he met even from other cultures. Charles’s training basically consisted of the single order “Shut up and let your squad leader talk.” He figured it was fine for him to talk here, though. It wasn’t as if they were desperately trying to find someone who would agree to shelter them in a hostile nation. He was just going to make casual conversation with a member of another nation's squad.

“We came relatively light this time.” said Charles. “Although, we can call for additional equipment when we know more about this operation. Check out this thing I’m working on, though.”

He unzipped a waterproof padded pocket in his uniform and pulled out a small robotic hummingbird called Flitter. It’s glossy transparent wings were wrapped around its white plastic body, with two windows of dark glass covering the robot’s sensors. Its face had no beak, just one LCD display that was currently dark except for two white eyes that were closed in a sleeping animation. Flitter realised it had been taken out of Charles’s pocket, and “opened” its eyes. It “looked” over at Charles’s face and chirped happily. Charles then carefully set it on his finger, its robotic feet delicately holding on. It paused for a moment and “looked around” before unfolding its wings and taking off into the air. It flew up a bit, and hovered over Charles’s shoulder.

“Like her?” he asked “She’s called Flitter. I’m still improving the design, but its already fairly capable. My major problem is battery life...”

He was interrupted by the Wheatly’s announcement, and told Flitter to land so that the robot didn’t get confused and lose the team in the unfamiliar base. The hummingbird touched down gently on a small rail on Charles’s shoulder and began recharging through contacts in its feet.

The Mind of Nexus:

“Yup, I’m here.” replied Nexus, quickly moving their conversation to a direct fiber line rather than the team’s comms, firstly so they had more bandwidth and secondly so he could use the soldiers' comms to stream video from their cameras and map out the GAmeTopian base. “Nice to hear from you. Anyways, what’s up? Got any more information for me on what this mission is?”

[The GAmeTopians]

Wheatley
"Basically the bossman, also known as Commander Commander
Constantin, received an order from the general boss, General Wheatley, to create a scenario for new ATLAS personnel so we can test their skill. Therefore, we called in the most experienced teams, and we are going to set up a simple hostage situation with non-lethal weaponry. We'll have the "bad guys", aka the experienced teams, holed up in a building where we'll let them set up defenses of their choosing to prepare for the onslaught. Of course, none of the teams know about this yet." Wheatley chuckled as he saw Charles awkwardly respond to the Servintans through the video feed in the hallways.
"Your squad guy Charles there isn't a smooth talker, is he? But that's a sweet aerial drone he's got there."
Wheatley's physical manifestation in his core room blinked for a moment.
"Oh, that reminds me. Bossman asked me to ask you to help manage the whole thing, mostly by keeping track of all of the troops. Should I give you access to some of the cameras? Right now I'm only active running the ones on Shadow Complex, but a small subcore of mine that general boss set up is managing the GAmeCity SWAT police right now."

[The United Remnants of America]

Koopa grinned in reply to the cybernetically-enhanced Hurti operative. In his nation, cybernetics were just getting onto a certain level, where damaged limbs could be replaced. Koopa, the technophile that he was, was amazed and nearly worshipped the extent of Kayora's cybernetic augmentation. "Well, you know, Remnant drones give us some of the best equipment to work with, and my Rhino is that 'best of the best' in physical form. I'm sure you'll get a chance to play with him some more later on."

The teams had been moving to the briefing room, during the walk, Jolly had walked up and nudged Leighton, giving him a friendly acknowledging smile. The Congreveopians and Remnants had been working together now almost since the formation of Task Force Atlas, and Jolly had grown to see his Platinum Soldier counterpart as a good friend.

The Gametopian door guard had asked for their names, so as each of the Sentinels passed by the guard on their way into the briefing room, the soldiers did as asked.

"Captain Jack Rogers," Jolly was first.

"Captain Jacqueline Kowalski," Jackie was busy tying her long brown hair back into a ponytail. She'd contemplated having it trimmed into a pixie cut, but hadn't gotten around to it, yet.

"Chief Petty Officer Jung Park," Ninja spoke without giving the Gametopian a second glance. He was here for the mission and his team, not for small talk. If it weren't for how much he cared about his friends, he'd have left a while ago.

Tarzan was next in the line of Remnant Sentinels, following after his pissy best friend, "Master Chief Petty Officer Harry Wilde." Tarzan had had hair almost as long as Jackie's, but he'd gotten a chance to cut it down. All that remained was a shaggy medium-length mop that complemented the growth on his face.

"1st Lieutenant Nikolai Kovanich." Koopa walked through the door without looking up from a datapad. He was currently following the tech readouts and news from multiple sources, and he liked doing that on a datapad rather than his Crosscom. Apparently, the URA's higher military structure was looking to contact Congreveopia about possible assistance in assembling their first AI. That figures, thought Koopa, the only company in the URA that could do it would be Asys Technologies, and they were busy making all the tech in the URA, so the Remnant Military needed to outsource a project like an AI.

The team's youngest member, the operator walked through next, "2nd Lieutenant Zane O'Malley.... Hiya, sir," O'Malley was saying hi to the Gametopian guard. He was the only one who wouldn't be out in the field, and hoped that he could get permission from the Gametopians in order to monitor the operations from their workstations.

The teams lowest-ranking members was last in line, carrying his duffel, along with a medical satchel on top of it, "Petty Officer 1st Class Zachary Jones here," Oreo had recovered well from the mental trauma of seeing his friends and teammates die on board the Emmerian super-carrier during Necropolis, and he was finally not having the nightmares anymore, or needing the medication.

[Congreveopia]

Shadow Island, Platinum Soldiers “Alpha Force”:

Leighton smiled back at Jolly before turning back and continuing to walk to the meeting room. He was mainly focused on working out the dynamics of the Servinitan team as he walked, and decided to ignore the fact that Charles had gotten Flitter out again.

“State yer names." said a GAmeTopian soldier.

“Staff Sergeant Leighton Alexander” said Leighton, his thought only briefly surfacing to handle the request before diving back into thinking about the Servinitan team.

“Sergeant Thomas Duke.” said the squad’s heavy weapons specialist. He was traveling unusually light for him, and had been unusually quiet thus far. The two facts weren’t entirely disconnected either, as he was just idly biding his time until he knew what the mission was and could call in more assets.

“Sergeant John Mattingly.” said John. For him, these words were the first he’d spoken since getting off the transport to the island. Unlike Thomas, though, his silence was entirely normal for him. He liked chatting and hanging out with the rest of the squad normally, but during an operation with other nations he found it fit the stereotypical marksman image well to remain serious, detached, and aloof.

“Sergeant Charles Young.” said Charles, energetically. He was the drone specialist and, oddly enough, the oldest member of the squad; in terms of age at least, not combat experience. Despite this he was easily excited by technology, easily excited in general, and possibly too curious; exactly the image of a stereotypical nerd except for the fact that he was working in the highest tier of Congreveopia’s special forces rather than his parents’ attic. Unlike John, Charles didn’t project this image in an attempt to conceal his inner personality from the other groups. His personality genuinely was what his actions suggested.

The Mind of Nexus:

“I’d be honored to help you run this.” replied Nexus “What’s the acceptable casualty limit for this operation? Ninety percent? Eighty?”

Nexus paused a moment for his GAmeTopian counterpart to consider the implications of his question, and, hopefully, realise he was joking.

“Anyways, yeah, cameras are good.” said Nexus “All’s Quiet on the Western Front here, and by that I mean it’s nighttime so I’ve got a bunch of servers running relatively pointless tasks waiting for something important to do (in somewhat related news, it appears that the Collatz Conjecture holds up to 2 ✕ 10¹⁹). I can handle however much data you can give me.”

[Servinta]

"Fleet Levtenant Vladimir" He announced himself as he entered the room.Tall and lean with a thick Van Dyke beard that was popular among officers in the Servintan military.His was the brains and collective thought of the Thirteenth Kommandos, with little concern for the petty squabbles and near alcoholic practices of his enlisted underlings, as those were his staff's job of ironing out.

"Staff Petty Lascar Aleksander" The grizzled veteran of every war from the Rhine state crisis onward, gave no real reference to the other teams and their actions.For his hands were full with simply managing his own men and making sure that they at least acted proper in front of their officer and the foreigners who surrounded them.

"Senior Petty Lascar Kormag" Happily he strode through the doorway, enjoying the fact that his superiors had their hands tied when it came to punishing him.He was the teams heavy weapons specialist who was just as experienced and skilled as Aleksander, and had been a staff enlisted himself at one time.But like now, he had a distaste for standard procedure and due to his innate desire to cut corners and break rules to accomplish the tasks set before him he had been busted back down to a Senior Petty Lascar only a few years ago.

"Senior Petty Lascar Kirill" With his almost inhuman monotone voice he slipped into the room as unnoticed and uninteresting as possible.He hated his post as he had once been a medical student at the Servintan Medical academy, only to be 'randomly' drafted and due to his skill in medicine he was sent directly to the Servintan Peoples Spezhaulist Korps.Now with only his work at hand he was conceded to isolate himself not only from everyone of the 'knuckle draggers' as he called them, but also from his own team as only Vladimir who had been a medical student himself understood Kirill's passion.

"Junior Petty Lascar Nikita" The inquisitive and imaginative Communications specialist of the team, he was still trying to talk to Charles bout the strange little bird contraption that he had shown them earlier.This was however the sort of thing Vlad wanted to keep him away from, as it wasn't unusual for some of the younger and more impressionable Servintans who ventured out into the world to get illegal or subversive ideas stuck in their heads.

"Junior Petty Lascar Iglan" The youngest and most inexperienced of Alfa team, was having to much fun to be bothered with standing with the rest.He was the point-man and naturally he was always the more nosy of them, constantly going ahead and coasting around the other teams for whatever snippets of conversation he could gather.Harmless in his own sense and bubbly in personality he was the more social of the group and made it known as he jested with Kormag often.

All of them flowed into the room marked Room Five Gamma, giving rank and name to the GAmetopian soldiers who stood gaurd over the doorway.Inside they all stayed in a clustered group, making small talk with each other and the other teams alike.

[Hurtful Thoughts]

Foyt noticed the Servantian mention 'Alfa team', then saw the tiny Platinum drone 'flitter': and he smirked. "Cute toy. At least it won't hinder you too much in combat. Unlike our walking-liability back there." He stuck a thumb over his shoulder and towards Kayora, who was still busy conversing with Koopa.

"Perhaps sooner than later." Kayora was then distracted by... something. Koopa would not have sensed it, but Kayora's drones were being unpacked, and one of the technicians made the mistake of powering one of them up to make sure it wasn't broken, resulting in an immediate remote-uplink to her backpack-mounted data-jack plugged into her spine.

She closed her eyes, shuddering a bit as she performed a systems-diagnostic of the warehouse the drones were stored in, developing situational-awareness to what seemed to her like opening her eyes in a brightly lit room for the first time while carrying-on a conversation on the phone.

"Much sooner. Your Rhino will be ready for remote-uplinking in two minutes. MCPs one and two are now online. Selecting new waypoints. Plotting course. Engaging targets."

Some distance away, a pulse-jet ignited. Followed by a second one. And they were getting closer.

As that drama was unfolding, the group was heading for the briefing-room as a very obvious buzzing could be heard outside, Kayora seeming as though daydreaming as she stared at the clouds while the rest of the squad answered the commander's orders:

"Ira strank, senior rifleman, squad leader of Bravo-section from 1st brigade, Zulu-Milita, 90th Army Group."

"Earnest Foyt, automatic rifleman, same unit."

"Larry Gibbons, heavy weapons specialist."

Ira nudged Kayora, and as she slipped out of her daze, one could tell one of those pulse-jets was in a power-dive for the building as she answered:

"Uh.. oh. Kayora. er... Recon and close-quarters specialist." She stammered, then gave a crisp salute, the pulsejet zoomed away and coughed into silence, probably landing somewhere nearby.

[Servinta]

"Cute toy. At least it won't hinder you too much in combat. Unlike our walking-liability back there."

"Comrade Foyt, the woman who you have pointed out, what is the matter with her that you think here a liability?" Iglan was perplexed by the mans original statement as he could see nothing wrong with her.He thought to himself that she may have been mentally unstable from what he had heard of her stammering and seen with her distraction into nothing.It wasn't all that important to what was happening at the moment, but his curiosity he was drawn to find out the why of everything.

Meanwhile Nikita was to continue his questioning of the little robot birds inner workings, seeing the technology so light and small was both an amazing and disheartening moment.In one hand he was likely one of the few Servintan military men outside of the highest echelons of the goverment to be interacting so closely with such high-technology.But in the other he though of how far his own nations tech-level was below that of these other nations, something that came out of the almost stagnant progress made by Servinta outside of buying it from outside the motherland.

"This Flitter, how do you control it?I saw you do nothing but yet it moved like it had an operator!?" He asked Charles.

Out of all of their little chats, Vladimir was busy conversing with Aleksander.The both of them were speaking of how they would best be able to carry out the task of being 'bad guys' and defending prisoners from an attack by other special forces teams of the same caliber as themselves.The possibilities seemed endless and without further information it was guesswork.The meeting would likely enlighten them to the layout of the building they were to defend and the environment in which this building was to be situated in, hopefully fully mapped and cross sectioned to make it easy for them to see where they would be heading into.Vlad was not too concerned however, as Servintans were know for their defensive abilities and with their high rate of fire the attackers were likely to face a challenge when facing them.

[The GAmeTopians]

Mind of Wheatley
Wheatley grabbed all of the electronics in Shadow Complex, and ran a line to Nexus so that he would be able to control them.
"OK, you now have access to every camera, screen, computer, and miscellaneous electronic device that Shadow Complex has to offer. I'm raring to play a little joke on everyone. Watch!"
Meeting Room 5 Gamma
Meeting Room 5 Gamma was relatively sparsely furnished, other than a long black table and surprisingly comfy metal chairs. The table appeared to be made of a dark, tinted glass. However, all was not as it seemed. Once the Hurti, URA, Congreveopian, and Servintan squads were seated, the glass in the center of the table suddenly cleared. It was replaced by Wheatley.

"Everyone here?" The cameras situated in the corners of the room twitched, scanning the room, then settled.
"Good. Now, I'd have preferred full capacity, but this will have to do." His image sighed.
"I'm sorry about this. I really am."
A dark metal door in the far corner of the room hissed open, letting out disproportionate amounts of mist. A large group of people appeared in the mist, and as the mist cleared, they were revealed. Each was wearing a black, skintight bodysuit, and a black full-head helmet. The leader, obviously female, spoke up.
"Really Wheatley? I'm tired of your shenanigans. I'll admit it was funny the first time, but how many times have you pulled this prank on random guests?"
Wheatley's image flickered, replaced by the same image, but now he was wearing a bandanna and cowboy hat. He was laughing.
"42. Exactly. And it's especially funny with this group, because I bet they would have taken it seriously had you not spoiled my fun. Anyway, introduce yourself while I port in the bossman."
Wheatley's image disappeared, and the woman sighed. She pressed a button on the side of her helmet, and the visor retracted, revealing a young face. She had bright green eyes, and a cheerful expression, somewhat dulled by Wheatley's poor taste in jokes.
"Sorry about that. Wheatley's relatively new, and while he's advanced, you'd think his sense of humor would match that."
"I can still hear you, y'know!" The disembodied voice of Wheatley shouted.
"I know, Wheatley! NOW SHUT UP, WILL YOU?" The woman shouted, and sighed.
"I'm yelling at a sentient computer. What next? Anyway. Good to see you all. I've met quite a few of you, though you may not remember me. Chell Johnson, leader of this band of deadlies known as Team HellBent, at your service," Chell took an exaggerated bow, and chuckled.
"So anyway, if Wheatley keeps to his word, he should patch in Commander Constantin so we can get you all organized."
Wheatley's eye suddenly showed up on the screen, bright blue with mischief.
"Tell them about the uniform!" He laughed wickedly. "And how you'll snap the neck of the officer who came up with that bright idea!"
Chell clenched her fists, but said nothing. Wheatley continued.
"Since she won't talk, I will! Don't worry, subcore B is looking for bossman Constantin. So, the story! So while Shadow Island was preparing for the arrival of you folks, one unnamed officer, for the sake of his life, came up with the bright idea that all of the spec ops officers, or at least the GAmeTopian ones, should wear the uniforms you see before you." He laughed wickedly again. On closer examination, the bodysuits left little to the imagination, making it clear that Chell's, and everyone else's modesty had been stripped away by those suits. Wheatley did, however, cringe slightly.
"My Human Sympathy sensors have essentially maxed out. As you can see, their max-out point is very low." He chuckled once again.
"Anyway, the brass went along with it, and Chell now hates the bossman! And me! But that's nothing new."
OOC: I'll let you guys respond to this wall of text before I post again.

[Servinta]

-snip-

"Eh hem, Firstly I think I speak for everyone when I say NO to your suggestion on the uniform change.I as an officer of the glorious Peoples Officer Korps personally take pride in my representation of my nation, and also I have no interest in 'that' type of uniform." The mere idea of being forced to wear a uniform of another nation for anything other than infiltration was offensive to him.He knew that his uniform and that of some of the other officers in the room were not all that advanced, but he felt pride in that dull black fabric for it was the same as he had worn during countless deployments and travels abroad.

"Secondly I must ask who we will be going aginst in this operation, and where exactly will we do such a audacious training exercise like this.I am no fool but I need maps, diagrams and anything else I can get before I am to wage battle aginst men of caliber.Planning is something I feel is necessary for a project like this to succeed!" His concerns were not all that unfounded, as in the defending of a station would require planning for multiple factors.Zones of fire, defenses, and traps were the sort of thing that kept unorganized and amateur hostage takers from cold professionals like the teams assembled here were.

The other conversations in the room would likely have to wait till after the meeting had adjourned before continuing onward.As most of the present personal were listening intently to the meeting's proceedings.All except for Kormag who seemed to be half interested as usual while watching the strange eyeball machine move about in confusion at how a vocalized toaster could talk to a military commander in such a manner.

[The United Remnants of America]

The Sentinels had mostly grouped together. Currently, they were wearing "off-duty, on-base" attire, which consisted of a green teeshirt and a pair green cargo pants. Despite the outfit's lack of fashion, it shined in comparison to the thought of a wearing spandex and nothing else. Jackie supposed that while the smooth shape of the material might work with the sparsely-used optical camoflague, she'd rather stick to her normal armored and protected loadout.

Koopa had slowly shuffled over and picked a spot near Kayora. He looked her over and noticed that she looked different, distant somehow. He didn't much appreciate her team's treatment of her, she was a technological marvel, but he doubted that was what had affected her, he tried to whisper to her, "Hey , Kayora, what's happ-" His datapad buzzed in his lap and he looked down to a message on the screen showing that Koopa's N2 Rhino had been activated and a small screen popped up, showing the armored robot's camera feed as it stood up and shook a little. The shaking seemed almost animalistic, but it was just a simple start-up feature for the semi-autonomous entity to test its joints and hydraulics. Koopa looked back to Kayora, trying to keep his voice down "Oh, you're connected to your drones, huh? How does that feel? I mean, what do you experience?" Even while saying that, he glanced back at the central table to watch Wheatley. The Remnant 2IC rubbed the greying stubble on his chin and cheek as he thought of what an AI could do for the URA....

Jolly glanced at Koopa and let it go. The two had been working together long enough that Jolly didn't feel right to command his best friend around, especially ordering him to pay attention. The Sentinel team leader's hair had already greyed about halfway through, and if he kept a beard, it would have appeared as steel. Koopa was only in his late 30s, and the guy was already adopting Jolly's 46-year-old "experienced" look. That's what combat did to you. Well, hopefully, this would be Jolly's last operation before he got to retire and finally settle down with his wife and kids. The captain raised his hand a little to get Chell's attention, "I think I speak for everyone here when I respectfully say hell no to the idea of all of us wearing your... revealing outfit, Chell. However, I do think that it is the sole moral duty that you and your team follow your directives and stick to those outfits. Or, I guess, let them stick to you?" Jolly flashed a grin at his Gametopian counterpart. A good show of humor was always a way to break the ice in a briefing room.

Ninja was ignoring the sarcastic mutterings of Tarzan in his ear, which Tarzan usually did in every briefing. Ninja usually smiled and sometimes had to bite his lip to keep from chuckling at some of the dark humor his friend whispered into his ear. The reason for Ninja's focus was at the end of his vision. Mattingly, you smug bastard. I'll show you up one of these days, and I swear to God it will be sooner rather than later. The Congreveopian marksman John Mattingly was the apple of Ninja's eye at the current moment. For all of the operators in Atlas, there were surprisingly few marksmen. From what it seemed, there were only two present in the briefing room: Ninja and John, and whether the foreign sniper knew it or not, Ninja took it as a personal challenge to be the better marksman in the field. Ninja took John's silence as a parody of his own quiet nature and saw John as an even more necessary competitor in the war for "Best Shooter." And Ninja was determined to get that award, even if it was in his own mind.

[Congreveopia]

“I’m not wearing that, but I doubt there was ever really any question with regard to that.” said Leighton. The Platinum Soldiers had armor that tried to stop a bullet, but of the core three teams, only Bravo regularly wore it. Alpha and Charlie prefered acknowledging that getting shot would be bad and taking the extra maneuverability or carrying capacity that light armor gave. The armor presented by the GAmeTopians was far too light even for them, though. And it didn’t appear to have anywhere near enough pockets.

Charles was carefully watching Wheatley’s avatar. He’d chatted with Nexus about the project to develop a GAmeTopian AI several times, but this was the first time he was seeing it in person. Right off the bat, he was impressed with its expressiveness. Nexus didn’t have one primary library of gestures and emotes; he conjured them on the fly for whatever robot or virtual avatar he was using to speak with someone. It let him emote with any system, but nowhere near as expressively as Wheatley. Wheatley’s avatar was just an eye in a ball, and yet Charles already could tell its “feelings” from its gestures as well as he could when Nexus gestured wearing a humanoid robot with 44 degrees of freedom.

Flitter chirped and flapped off the rail. She hovered in front of Charles’s face and then looked over at Wheatley. Charles lifted up a hand and the robot landed on it. He subconsciously began gently stroking the robot as he contemplated the GAmeTopian AI. He wasn’t sure whether this skit was actually its idea or not, but if it was that would be remarkably impressive. It had taken Nexus ages to start making jokes, and even longer to become halfway decent at it. Then again, this joke probably wouldn’t qualify as halfway decent. Then again, halfway decent did describe the state of the GAmeTopian soldiers’ uniforms right now. Charles smiled slightly at his little piece of wordplay, and then went back to trying to figure out whether Wheatley really had come up with this.

“However… amusing this aside was, Wheatley, I do have to agree with Vlad.” said Leighton “We could probably use an actual briefing now, not… let’s say, ‘whatever this was’.”

[Hurtful Thoughts]

"Cute toy. At least it won't hinder you too much in combat. Unlike our walking-liability back there."

"Comrade Foyt, the woman who you have pointed out, what is the matter with her that you think here a liability?" Iglan was perplexed by the mans original statement as he could see nothing wrong with her. He thought to himself that she may have been mentally unstable from what he had heard of her stammering and seen with her distraction into nothing. It wasn't all that important to what was happening at the moment, but his curiosity he was drawn to find out the why of everything.

"She flunked basic. Twice. And most of her training was in a sim-room, not the real world, and not when dealing with real people getting shot at." Foyt answered, coldly. He still saw her more as Strank's 'pet mascot' on a good day, and as a tragically failed experiment on a bad day. The discussion between Wheatley and the others did not seem to amuse him, either. He did however notice Ninja sulking despite Tarzan's best efforts, probably for similar reasons.

Koopa had slowly shuffled over and picked a spot near Kayora. He looked her over and noticed that she looked different, distant somehow. He didn't much appreciate her team's treatment of her, she was a technological marvel, but he doubted that was what had affected her, he tried to whisper to her, "Hey , Kayora, what's happ-" His datapad buzzed in his lap and he looked down to a message on the screen showing that Koopa's N2 Rhino had been activated and a small screen popped up, showing the armored robot's camera feed as it stood up and shook a little. The shaking seemed almost animalistic, but it was just a simple start-up feature for the semi-autonomous entity to test its joints and hydraulics. Koopa looked back to Kayora, trying to keep his voice down "Oh, you're connected to your drones, huh? How does that feel? I mean, what do you experience?" Even while saying that, he glanced back at the central table to watch Wheatley. The Remnant 2IC rubbed the greying stubble on his chin and cheek as he thought of what an AI could do for the URA....

"I've been told trying to pilot a vehicle remotely is a lot like playing 'Goat Simulator', considering I used to interpret the world around me through an MMORPG. Since most drones cannot 'feel' pain, it takes a bit of concentration to know where all its limbs are, what they're doing, and what they're capable of doing. That's why it's usually better to be present when synchronizing to an unfamiliar UAV. In the case of your Rhino, I was watching it through my other drones' eyes... takes a bit of effort to..."

She paused for a moment; Koopa's Rhino appeared to think itself lost, so she gave it some waypoints and instructed it to follow them...

"Sorry about that. Your drone was having a panic-attack." She explained, not quite understanding that each connectivity-check the Rhino gave sounded to her like a fawn in distress bleat.

[The GAmeTopians]

Wheatley sighed.
"You guys are no fun."
The lights went out, and were replaced with a blue glow, illuminating even the darkest corners of the room. Wheatley's screen split into two, his "toaster" image shifting to the left, and the face of Commander Constantin on the right. Commander Constantin was a young man all things considered, and he wore the suit and hat of an onbase Commander. His lips moved, but no sound ca,e from the speakers.
"He's muted, but not for long. Anyway: HellBent, I rushed an appeal, your new less stupid uniforms are waiting for you in Storage 3 Beta. You already know the info Commander Constantin is going to share, so buzz off and get out of those things."
HellBent graciously hurried out the door, and as they did so, the speakers crackled.
"OK Wheatley."
Wheatley generated a Google-like beep and said,
"What can I help you with?" Both of them chuckled.
"Anyway, glad to see you all. I'm certain that quite a few of you did not get the full briefing, so here we go, even though a few teams are not present: We have been tasked by the ATLAS big-wigs to create a training operation for the new member squads. I therefore chose the teams that sit before me to be the "enemy", in addition to Team HellBent. Your objective is to capture a member from each new squad, imprison them at a location in GAmeCity, and fortify the location from the oncoming attack. Both teams will be using new, non-lethal bullets. These bullets shatter on impact, not penetrating skin no matter what the circumstance. They cause bruising, but no bone breakage or displocation. A shot to the head, however, may cause unconsciousness and/or concussion. For fortifications, you will have full access to military-grade fortifications from Shadowdark Armaments, delivered by truck as soon as you tell Wheatley you need them. Wheatley along with Nexus, the Congreveopian AI, may be helping you along the way. Any questions?"

[Die Erworbenen Namen]

Somewhere in the Ocean
International Waters
DEN Death Korps
Challenger VTOL

"Move it, move it, move it, boys! Engine's hot, we're ready to go!" Vladimir shouted, waving on with his hand. He stood on the runway of the large, new carrier DENS Fastbender, and was standing in front of a large Challenger VTOL jet aircraft, trying to ferry a group of soldiers into the aircraft. He was wearing a large, black trench coat that flapped in the wind of the jet engine's exhaust that ricocheted off the flight deck, causing him to look like he was in the middle of a windstorm. With one hand outstretched to wave the soldiers on, he had his other hand pointing at the door, directing the soldiers.

The soldiers started running from the superstructure onto the flight deck, lined up one by one and in their full combat gear. Because of the cold temperatures to which they were frequently exposed to, they each wore a black trench coat, which held no insignia on it whatsoever, excepting the epaulets and a raised barcode like structure on the right chest. That was how they identified the different people in their group, and it could not be faked by anyone, and was near impossible to create themselves.

"Hellcat, Move it!" Vladimir shouted, and Johnson, who's code name was Hellcat, picked up the pace, his boots beating into the deck, making no noise. He passed Vladimir, who slapped his back with his hand, and jumped onto the cargo bay/troop compartment of the large aircraft, sitting down and strapping himself in. Vladimir looked around, and when he saw all nine had made it in, turned to run into the plane. He grabbed the handle bar of the bay and holding onto it with his left hand, walking in. He turned around to face the deck worker, who gave him the thumbs up, and he nodded, shutting the doors. "Pilot, take off. Destination's in the computer already. Full speed."

"Roger that. Heading off." The pilot said, and started moving the plane away from the superstructure, and towards the catapult. After being hooked up to the catapult, the pilot angled the four jet engines in a horizontal position, and started checking the systems. He checked everything, including the ability to move the engines. When he found it was satisfactory, he turned on a light for the men inside, and lowered the flaps, hand on the throttle. "All systems check, online. Bridge has clearance for us, OK'd destination. We're clear to go, taking off. Hold on to your butts, boys."

Vladimir nodded, and strapped himself into the seat, hearing the satisfactory click of the belts as they adjusted themselves. He gave a quick check of the rest of the crew, and gave the thumbs up, which the pilot caught on camera, and replied in the same. Vladimir smiled, and shut off the comms with the cockpit, and closed the door, blocking out the noise. They were safe to use their real names here, as well as do whatever they wanted. Seizing this moment, Robin turned and looked at Johnson, and shouted out "Hey! Brought the tunes?"

As the plane's jets began to warm up, Johnson smiled and nodded, grabbing an auxiliary cable from the console in front of him, and took out a music player, who's OS remarkably seemed like an iPhone's, but who's look was anything but. He took out the cable that ran from the device to his helmet, and instead plugged the auxiliary cable into the slot, which crackled after a small boom. He clicked through a few songs, and selected one for the guys to listen to. And even sing, albeit horribly.

Vladimir, although a rare moment, found himself smiling. He knew this song, and he knew this band well. The jet took off just as the music started playing, jolting them back into their seats or against their straps, the catapults and the jets flinging the plane onto the ski jump, where the force changed as the engines were altered to a horizontal and vertical drive, and the plane was off, turning in the sky.

"Cause in the sleepy London Town there's just no place for the street fighting man! Ooohhhh no!" Robin called out, and the rest of the group, save for a few, chimed in with them. The rest tuned the music out and probably went to sleep, or even read something on their aviators, just to pass the time.

Off the Coast of Gametopia
Gametopian Waters
DEN Death Korps
VTOL

The music was just finishing up and was now playing in the background, most of the people there no longer singing along, or otherwise doing different things. There was, oddly enough, a card game going in one of the areas, and although they had been speeding through the sky, no one seemed to mind. Now they had been going for a couple of hours, and were just entering Gametopian space. How did they know? Well, the Pilot decided to inform them.

"Greetings, my non existent, unruly passengers. We're entering Gametopian airspace now. If there is any women, food, drinks, booze, drugs... Or bombs you'd like to eject now, please do so. As always, return your trays to the upright position, and the no smoking and fasten seat belt light is on. Please turn off all electronic devices, and as always, thank you for flying air FUBAR." The pilot said over the intercom, which made Sarge smile a little bit.

"Can we eject the pilots?" A voice asked, and off in the corner, Johnson was smirking.

"No. If you'd like, I can open the doors." The pilot replied, and the sound of a hand slapping a helmet was heard as Sarge smacked the backside of Johnson's head. "We're descending now."

"What was that for?" Johnson shouted out, and looked over at Sarge, picking up his cards.

"Be nice to the pilots. They're our ride in and out. And our support." Sarge said, and Johnson rolled his eyes. Sarge was about to give him another smack when Vladimir spoke out, stopping him in his tracks.

"Alright, boys. You know the deal! Unload all weapons, face on, full uniform! We're going into a public place, we're not letting them know who we are. Code names only, until we meet with ATLAS!" Vladimir shouted, and grabbed his gloves, placing a few right hand gloves in a pocket, and putting one on his right hand. He pulled a cord from his hand before, and put it aside, clenching his fist.

"YES, SIR!" The group responded in kind, and began setting up, they had put their toys away, and the music player switched to wirelessly transmitting the music, and Johnson placed the item in his pocket. Everyone grabbed their rifle, carbine or SMG, and took out the clip, placing it on one of the multiple tactical pockets on the trench coat, and then securing it. They began putting on their bullet proof masks, the white skulls painted on them, and securing them with the straps. After adjusting their helmets, they unscrewed the piping for the gas mask, and set it aside. Each one of them then put on their aviators, and waited, rifles in hand.

"Comms check, boys." Vladimir called out, and got his gear on, holding his rifle in his hands. The boys began calling out each of their code names for Vlad to check. Hellcat (Johnson), Sarge (Sarge(Hicks)), Thriller (Samson), Maverick (Robin), Skywalker (Huggins), SAW (Jimmy), Lieutenant (Kernal), Barbie (Emily), Marx (Kevin), and himself, Lenin. They all called in positive, and then switched on their IFF. "Alright, Boys, let's go."

The aircraft began descending onto the runway as a new song began playing, and the men got up in the aircraft, standing tall. They had their weapons in their hands as they stood up, resting on a sling and without the clips in them. Vladimir was in front of them, hand on the handlebar as they touched down, and the doors slammed open. Vladimir kicked one of the crates in the cargo bay open, which revealed a cage inside, nothing more.

They jumped out of the VTOL onto the runway below, carrying out the equipment inside. One of the items, however, jumped out on their own: it was Vladimir's wolf, and he was here as one of the additional techs. Like Vladimir, he had some.... Additions, and in that way was close to him. Vladimir bent down and patted his heads running his fingers through the hair then around his ears. "Good Fenris. Alright, Hellcat, how's the craft?"

"Secured. Everything's off." Jonathan replied, and patted the cockpit, giving the pilot the thumbs up. The pilot shut the craft down and got out with his co-pilot, pulling out cigarettes and starting to talk. They started playing some music on the speakers, but it wasn't like before. "We're ready to go."

"Looks like they heard us. Alright, group, let's get moving. We're late, and I think they heard us on our way in." Vladimir replied, and waved with his hand once more for everyone to follow him. He started heading towards the hanger doors, walking casually, as if nothing was wrong, or as if nothing had happened. Combined with the fact that he was wearing a Skull Helmet (a military grade combat helmet in the shape of a skull: covered his entire head, and in the front of it was the gas mask, and on top was another helmet to protect the stuff inside), it was a little... Odd. Creepy, almost. "Ahh. I've found them."

He actually had. He started walking down the hallway of one of the places, coming up to a door. A checkpoint, if you will. Vladimir came up to the man at the checkpoint, and stared at him, though, there wasn't much people could see. "We're with Atlas. Don't mark us down. We'll let Wheat Thins out there do it for us."

[The United Remnants of America]

Briefing Room

Jolly grunted. "Yes, I have a question, actually. How do we kidnap these soldiers? I'm assuming they have some knowledge of this mission, right? Or will they really think they're being kidnapped? Because what's to stop them from shooting us dead right there?"

Oreo looked around and raised a hand to ask a question, "Will we be able to treat those wounded, or will this take on a normal 'game' kind of simulation, where being shot equals death, kinda like a paintball match?"

Koopa leaned his head nearly onto Kayora's shoulder as he moved closer to her, putting his tablet between them, as if that might somehow help her pilot his mechanical child. "Be nice to him, alright? Eeyore hasn't worked with anyone else since he was first started up by the Drone Control Corps, then handed over directly to me. I know they don't have emotions or anything, but he kinda has a personality, y'know?

Field
??? Not User 1-3-2, Koopa. Inquiry: Who is user?

The Rhino's software was questioning its current set of orders coming from an unknown source, and if the Rhino could have the potential to be worried, then it would be feeling that now. This foreign user inside the Rhino was making the drone follow commands, as if it were taking direct control. The Rhino at least thought it was a user, it felt a lot like a foreign data attack, a virus, as well.

??? N2 Rhino 000-11-234, Eeyore. Inquiry: User, please acknowledge.

The hardware on the quadruped 4ft tall tool shivered as it lumbered over grass in a field where it woke up. The heavy diamond shape armor plate on its right side forcing the drone's equilibrium to shift to the left to compensate. In the drone's "brain," a startup sequence fired off as it completely came on line.

Micro-Guided Rocket System: Online
Indirect-Fire Mortar System: Online
Alternate Vision Mode: Online

The drone wiggled its back end as it ran an inventory check on its missiles and mortar shells, finding a full loadout. No breaches on any armor plating. All joints working. All sensors reading normal. Eeyore was ready to play with the strange new master.

[Hurtful Thoughts]

The drone kept requesting identification, and even when given the Rhino kept using circular-logic that she was not Koopa and therefore an undefined value, or unidentified. Often resorting to threats of hostile probes of their connection. She was wary of giving the drone any sort of direct access to herself, the last time she'd done so had nearly ended in disaster... But still...

She gave Eeyore temporary access to what she saw as 'relevant tactical information': Koopa; sitting beside her, saying something, then sliding his tablet towards her. With the captions of "Koopa trusts this user."

Kayora's eyes then briefly went wide as results of the equipment-check streamed-in. The Rhino was fully-loaded with live explosive ordnance, and was approaching a nearby checkpoint...

Cache explosive rounds. Log its location. Continue towards your objective. Failure to do so will result in unacceptable levels of damage for this mission.

Absent-mindedly, one of Kayora's fingers scratched at the desk, trying to dig a trench into the wood-textured plastic as she listened to everyone else being brought up to speed on the briefing as she tried wiring into the Nexus-uplink to gather a bit more info.