Oxygen [Closed]

[New Urcea]

Foreign Airspace, Possible Foreign Country
Helicopter Call-Name Whiskey Two, Captain Eure Dempsey and Major Nate Beale

"Whiskey Two, Whiskey Two do you copy, over?" a mechanical voice sang over the long-range radio set built into the helicopter, calling out to the two pilots. They obliged. "Whiskey Two copies, over. What's the deal, Dagger, forgot radio silence?" the two pilots smiled slightly, their rugged features resisting. The voice did not share their humor. "Whiskey Two, this is serious. Is your navigation working?" the smile quickly turned into a frown, and the thin arms of the lean pilots shot towards the controls, measuring the different scales before them. "Dagger, navigational is working. Return home, Whiskey Two will continue, copy?" the voice on the radio sounded stressed, a sigh was picked up. "I copy Whiskey Two, aborting mission and bugging out. Goodluck." the voice clicked off the radio and the cabin of the helicopter was filled with music. "Sir, I'm going to check out the cargo." Beale nodded and his co-pilot unstrapped himself.

The green suited man slowly made his way to the rear of the long Chinook styled helicopter and inspected ten crates, containing unknown material. Dempsey threw up a thumb and jabbed at the air, Beale nodded from the cockpit and returned the thumbs up. Returning to the cockpit, he restrapped. "Look Major we've crossed the river, Goodbye Miranda!" he called with a laugh. Beale shared his laugh and switched to a different radio station. Foreign music assaulted their eardrums. "Shit sir, what the hell is this shit?" Beale quickly shut off the radio, "No idea, Mirandan music is shit nowadays anyways." Dempsey handed the stick over to the lower ranking officer and looked out the window, like a child looking at a toy his eyes lit up at the green beauty of the forest below. He unstrapped and moved past his copilot. With his absence, Beale quickly became distracted and barely noticed anything out of the ordinary in the forest below. "Hey Major, what's the chances that we don't come back?"

[Erathore]

Southern Erathore in the state of Itazan. AA-2 #234 Call sign "Sky Sweeper" Lieutenant Parker Trapp & Sergeant Allesio Brazan

It was another boring day for Lieutenant Parker Trapp and Sergeant Allesio Brazan as the patrolled the jungle located to the very south of Erathore's main state, Itazan. Day after day the rumbled around on their preset route, sitting in the cramped AA-2 Mobile Anti-Aircraft System. Lieutenant Parker Trapp loved the AA-2. Each of it's four guns could spit out rounds at 1000 rounds per minute. The AA-2 also boasted four CLAAM Close Ranged Anti-Aircraft Missiles for targets within 10 miles. It was a fine piece of military hardware that never had the chance to play. Until today. Just as Sergeant Brazan contemplated how cool it would be to fire the guns every once in a while, the vehicles radio clicked on.

"AA-2 #234 call sign "Sky Sweeper" this is ATC at Firehawk airbase. Sky Sweeper do you copy?" Lieutenant Trapp scrambled to get to the radio system in order to call back. He withdrew his handy-dandy book of radio codes and kept it close by.

"Sky Sweeper copies ATC"

"We have a bogey bearing 277 closing on your position. R shows that it is of the size and speed of a helicopter, albeit one we have never seen before. You are cleared for firing Sky Sweeper."

"Roger that ATC, sky sweeper out."

The Lieutenant and Sergeant manned their battle stations and prepared to fire against this unknown and unwelcome enemy. After half a minute, a small blip on the RADAR appeared, blinking closer every time.

"This forest is too cluttered for missiles sir, switching to guns."

"Roger that, target is coming into range in 3…2…1…in range. Recommend wait 15 seconds for optimal performance."

"Copy, waiting 15." And so the 15 seconds came and went, along with several beads of nervous sweat on the soldiers faces.

"15 seconds over. Opening fire now." reported the Sergeant, now with a clear view of a long, transport style helicopter. For one moment there was silence. No animal could be heard and the men's breathing had stopped. Then Allesio slowly squeezed the trigger, and the forest exploded with the sound of heavy machine gun fire. Allesio stopped firing after five seconds, with a stream of 64 20mm rounds headed towards the helicopter.

"We're moving to a new position, good shooting."

[New Urcea]

~ ~ Snip

[Erathore]

HIA Iveco LMV #050 Call sign "Badger" PFCs Ramierz, Gianluigi, and Cordone, Captain Poole

Captain Poole and the three PFCs accompanying him sped towards the crash site in a Iveco LMV designed by Haruspex International Armaments. It was a fast vehicle, trekking along at roughly 73mph with the 12.7mm MG swiveling around in the turret looking for targets to fire at.

It figures that a confrontation with an unknown peoples would start with violence. That's how it all worked wasn't it? Thought Captain Poole to himself. He didn't have much time as they closed within a half mile of the downed 'copter. The Ievco rounded a bend to view the elongated 'copter, with debris and cargo strewn about.

"Gianluigi and Cordone, you two and myself with search on the ground. Ramierz, cover us on the .50 cal. Move out" ordered Captain Poole, with a mixture of rogers and copies coming back at him. The team dismounted and approached the crash site with weapons drawn.

"Fan out and keep your guard up."