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Project Warfighter - Operation: Legion(IC)

A staging-point for declarations of war and other major diplomatic events. [In character]
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The United Remnants of America
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Project Warfighter - Operation: Legion(IC)

Postby The United Remnants of America » Sat May 09, 2015 5:17 am



Union City, International Territory

From the sky, you wouldn't even know why the city had been quarantined. Three months ago, Union City had become the birthplace of a new disease. Zombies were popular in media, and stories and rumors raged of their existence, but nothing like this had been seen before. The disease spread rapidly, it went from person to person, then block to block. Soon, the entire city was in panic as the dead consumed and infected the living. Local law enforcement and the few in-city military teams were quickly overrun, but not before they called for help.

The help came in the form of the ESS Revelations, an Emmerian aircraft carrier and her escorts. The Revelations had at that time a special purpose: The temporary headquarters of Task Force Atlas, an international special forces team composed of several nations' Tier-One Operators. The unit was the international go-to for dangerous situations that needed immediate attention. The carrier was within range and had answered the call, even offering to take on injured to treat. If only the crew had known the full extent of the threat, they would have warded off any potential infection.

Within 24 hours of the first bite in Union City, the city was overrun, and so was the Revelations. The ship was instantly quarantined by the rest of the Emmerian task fleet and an emergency situation made itself known: The carrier was heading full steam towards Union City's docks, and there was no one at the wheel. The on-board Task Force Atlas was given a dual task. The first was to stop the Revelations by any means neccesary. The second task was the cleanse the infection from the ship. Atlas quickly picked up the job and got to work, pushing through the tight halls and cramped corridors, clearing undead and saving surviving crewman while taking losses of their own.

Even while TF Atlas went to work, the Emmerian Coalition had a plan of their own: Cleansing of the ship, both infected and uninfected alike, with an elited, unnamed black-ops unit that was sent in by helicopter. This unit worked from the top down as Atlas worked from the inside out. The two eventually met, with the black-ops unit ordered to kill the surviving Atlas personnel and TF Atlas defending themselves. The result was heavy losses for all involved, and a waste of time, for as the teams fought across the ship, the carrier made its way to a point of no return for impact with the docks, for now no matter how soon Atlas shut down the ship's engines, Revelations would still crash into the docks at some speed. This left the Emmerians with a choice: Destroy and sink the ship with all aboard, or let it crash into Union City.

While the Emmerians made this choice, TF Atlas had intermittently broke to the top of the ship, after fighting through zombies and death squads, they'd finally reached the flight deck and recieved the transmission from the TF Atlas leadership that was off the ship. They needed to extract now and abort mission, they'd failed. As the helicopters came in to land, TF Atlas took one collective look back at the ship they'd been calling home as it crashed into the docks, crushing smaller pleasure craft as it ran aground. Even then, the survivors of Task Force Atlas knew that they would one day be back.

Three Months Since First Infection...

Ten VTOL aircraft flew in low over Union City. From pilot's perspective, one could see some blocks fo the city alight from flames, cars turned over, and the occasional, but rare, remains of a human being. Other than that, it was oddly abandoned, as if the entire city had been evacuated, which was false. Within a week of the infection, the Emmerian military had cordoned off the city and fired upon any who tried to flee. Now, three months later, there were still fences, barricades, and hastily-constructed walls surrounding the city, as well as a constant military presence. No one was to enter or exist the city; No one, except for Task Force Atlas. If one were to look to the coast, the hulk of the Revelations could be seen glinting in the sun, its hull torn apart as it had run itself aground and destroyed the docks.

The VTOLs flew in a slight V-formation of nine, with one VTOL out in front. On board this VTOL, the Remnant Sentinels, Emmerian SOC and Vannish teams sat aboard in full combat fatigues, except for three people: The two Remnant Air Force pilots, which piloted and owned all of the VTOLs, and one man wearing dress greens. He used to be a captain for the Sentinel team, but due to his service and his expertise, he'd been promoted, completely skipping the rank of major.

Lieutenant Colonel Jack "Jolly" Rogers, the new commanding officer of Task Force Atlas, stood holding onto a passenger rope with a radio set hooked around his ears and mouth. The radio was tied into the radio that each TF Atlas member wore, so that every operator and pilot could hear him:

"Alright, ladies and gentlemen. For some of you, this is your first time to Union City. For the rest of you, welcome back. Most of you are probably wondering why we're here and what happened. Well, as far as what happened, that's classified. As for what we're doing here.... The international community has responded overwhelmingly what they want done with the city. On two of these VTOLs are tsctical nuclear weapons provided to us by a classified international benefactor government. One of these will be taken to the Revelations and planted inside. That ship was the most advanced ship the Emmerians had created, and it must be destroyed along with the infection aboard it. You'll find the ship's location on your tac-maps to be near the area of Marina Del Ray, right next to Union City International Airport. The second nuke will be planted somewhere in the vicinity of Santa Ana or Orange. Those have been deemed central enough areas to correctly cleanse the entire city. Now, you may be wondering why we're doing this instead of an airstrike, and the answer is that most nations aren't willing to volunteer for nuking a civlian target, regardless of its status as an infected zone. The bureacratic bigwigs at our home nations decided that an international effort performed by their premier fighting force would be better.

Now, you'll be dropped in between the two locations, around Bellflower, and half of Atlas will go one way and the other half is to go the other way. The VTOLs will stay there, landed on the Flora Vista Park and Iron-Wood Golfcourse. Now, there are scattered reports of surviving Emmerian military and Union City Police that have survived by scavenging in the city. While I myself am doubtful of this, if you happen across any, please try to safely extract them along with yourselves at a nice clip. I refuse to be waiting here for you all week. Understood?" The question was rhetorical. All of the operators knew their tasks. The VTOLS swooped in low over the green fields of the park and the golfcourse to land with a soft thud, ready to disgorge their cargo of operators and two suitcase nukes.

Operation: Legion was a go.

Map of Union City
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Servinta
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Postby Servinta » Sat May 09, 2015 12:59 pm

"Now, you'll be dropped in between the two locations, around Bellflower, and half of Atlas will go one way and the other half is to go the other way. The VTOLs will stay there, landed on the Flora Vista Park and Iron-Wood Golfcourse. Now, there are scattered reports of surviving Emmerian military and Union City Police that have survived by scavenging in the city. While I myself am doubtful of this, if you happen across any, please try to safely extract them along with yourselves at a nice clip. I refuse to be waiting here for you all week. Understood?"


"Da I read you loud and clear comrade, my men and I will lead the charge to the North-West Marina Del Ray port complex with the bomb.Our call sign for operation Legion will be 'White Shark' over." Vladimir acknowledged the Lieutenant Colonel over the communications link they had between the teams who rode in separate aircraft.

He had been there when the first outbreak had occurred on the aircraft carrier and had lost several men to the undead hordes that rampaged through the corridors of that damned ship.Although his team wasn't alone in their failure to put down the spreading infection, as there had been many others on the ship with them, he took the failure personally and had accepted his punishment with a self-hateful regret.The lash marks from the flogging on his back had healed, but the memories of disappointment still struck him every day as he pushed himself further onward to redemption.

"Failure is not an option this time comrades, for the Arch-Leader!" Bogdan announced.Vlad knew that Commissar Bogdan had also been similarly punished but as normal he was recalled back to receive 'Extreme ReEducation' at the commissar headquarters.Whatever foul things they did to him there was a matter of speculation ranging from more harsh forms of political conditioning to outright torture, but what as solid fact was that Bogdan had returned to the unit more hateful and motivated by part doctrine than ever before.

The VTOL carrying the Servintan Kommandos landed on the grassy park grounds just south of the Flora Vista Park maintenance building, a soft thud of the heavy aircraft exerting its weight on the dirt and the hiss of the dropping loading ramp sounded the start of their mission.

"Go, Go, Go!" Squad 'White Shark' rushed out of the aircraft with weapons drawn and ready to fire, though no enemy undead had appeared yet they would likely follow the sound of the VTOL's whirling engines or would be encountered shortly after leaving the open area of the park.The squad formed a wedge formation with Vlad and Bogdan in the center, taking in the situation around them as fast as possible.

The tree line that lay just a few yards ahead of them was their best bet for a defensive position while the other teams from Atlas were offloading from their own VTOLS.Quickly the squad rushed across the open grassy area and took up positions behind the large oaks and bushes that stood opposite to several burnt out suburban homes.The neighborhood looks like a fire had ravaged it, likely a result of the lack of fire crews and the general chaos of the outbreak.But Vlad noticed the two vehicles that where parked just down the road, and knowing Junior Petty Lascar Nikita was capable of hotwireing such things would provide them and the other teams heading for the Revelations a speedy form of transport until they got into the congested areas of the city.

"Nikita, you think you can get those cars down the street running?" Vladimir asked the young communications specialist.He knew the answer but it was more of a challenge than a command to the enlisted man.

"Da Sir, give me cover and I'll have us some wheels in a hot minute." Nikita smirked as he eyed the two vehicles that had been pointed out to him by the officer.

He grabbed Iglan and the two ran down the sidewalk as fast as they could while the whole squad shifted their field of fire to the north where the cars sat.The shattering of the glass windows made Vladimir and a few of the squad members break a cold sweat as the sound echoed like a gunshot throughout the seemingly empty suburb.All the noise was likely to draw the undead sooner or later, causing Vald to ponder on how the VTOL crews would be able to defend themselves if a horde came around.They'll likely just fly away to another landing zone he thought.

During his pondering he hadn't noticed the cars starting and being driven back, only when the squeal of the tires stopping sounded did he realize what had transpired so quickly.The white Chevrolet Malibu and tan Toyota Corolla ran well enough, which was a good thing, but neither's petrol tank was full and the tires on the Toyota were showing a lackluster amount of air in them.But they would do for now.

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Postby The United Remnants of America » Sun May 10, 2015 3:53 pm

Captain Jacqueline Kowalski's boots hit the ground an instant before Koopa, Ninja, Tarzan, and Oreo hit the grass. Their VTOL had landed on the grass and dirt of the Flora Vista Park's baseball field. Zane O'Malley jumped off the plane and landed with a slight stumble. The young operator was still getting used to being a field rifleman for the team, and he still hadn't gotten used to his new nickname, "Irish." The team of six Sentinels were adjusting to seeing their old commander Jolly staying behind as they got off the aircraft. To the half of the team that had been around longer, it was all the harder to adjust to a new team commander, even if she was an experienced team leader from the now-defunct 4th SOS. Koopa and Irish took point with their assault rifles facing forward. Tarzan and his LMG took the left flank while Oreo's PDW took the right. Ninja covered the rear with his DMR. Jackie patted Irish shoulder, giving a silent signal for the group to move forward. As the team started to move away from the VTOL, Irish and Jackie swapped positions so Irish was in the center of the team. The reason for this wasn't his inexpereince; In the Sentinels, you lived or died on mission and you weren't babied by your teammates. Irish was moved in the center now because he was carrying on his back a large pack that happened to contain a small tactical nuclear weapon designed to wipe out half the city, so he was seen as an objective to be defended, lest he trip and fall and accidentally incinerate the entire Task Force by some freak accident.

Ninja, from his rear posting, saw the Servintans were already off their aircraft and were attempting to hotwire a couple of cars. Ninja spoke just loud enough to be heard on the team-level comms over the din of VTOl rotors, "Hey, the Sharks are gettings some cars. Maybe we could do something as well?" Ninja heard a click over the radio and knew that meant an affirmative. From the front of the group, Jackie and Koops led the team East towards the park's parking lot, where a certain vehicle caught their eyes nearly simultaneously.

Tarzan happened to notice it as they got onto the hot pavement, "Is that.. A fucking schoolbus? Are we stealing that?"

Jackie shrugged as she approached the yellow vehicle and smacked the side, standing up straight to look inside through the windows, "We're not stealing it. There's no one to steal it from. We're just... Using our environment. Oreo, get it open. Koopa, can't you hotwire things?"

Oreo let his PDW hang from its sling as he put his gloved fingers to the folding door at the front and pulled. The door didn't move, but he yanked again and with a little resistance, Oreo got the door to budge and hiss open, "Well... It ain't closing again, but it's open now." Oreo walked up into the bus and walked to the end, checking each seat as he walked through, "She's also clear. All the kids must'a got out, which is good."

Tarzan and Irish climbed on, followed by Ninja. All three picked seats scattered around the bus. Koopa and Jackie climbed on and went to the driver's seat, which Koops plopped down in, Jackie looking over his shoulder. Koopa grumbled as he started tearing panels away, "Oh, the tech guy deals with robotics. He must know how to hotwire a bus!"

Jackie tilted her head and looked at the back of his head, "Well, can you?"

Koopa stopped moving his hands and sighed, "Yes... Now let me work." He pulled out a multi-tool and started to cut and strip wires.

Jackie stepped off the bus and looked back at the VTOLs, switching to the Task Force comms, "For any of you wishing to accompany the Sentinels to the city center, we're getting a bus up and running, so we've got room for some more people. All aboard." As she finished her statement, the bus roared to life and Koopa cheered to himself, jumping up and grabbing the steering wheel. The engine was loud and the exhaust spewed dark smoke from as that had been sitting for three months, but the bus was running.

From the dirver's seat Koopa spoke out, "Woo! Got the big bitch running! She's got about a quarter tank of gas, so we can get there, hopefully, if there's no too much roadblocks. Dunno about getting back... Oh, by the way: I'm driving." Koopa spoke his demand with a grin of flashing teeth.
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."
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Organized States
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Postby Organized States » Sun May 10, 2015 6:53 pm

Union City

Three CV-22 Ospreys slowly moved over the LZ, their loud rotors disturbing the formerly peaceful calm of the morning. Inside, sat two OSAF Special Tactics Teams of TENCAP. The Special Tactics Team was a relatively new creation within the American Air Force, having been founded in the wake of America's sudden need to intervene with a mix of reliable, accurate airpower and small, aggressive units capable of completing their missions by themselves. This proved to be quite effective when the OS quickly found itself engaged in conflicts in Syria and Iraq more recently, in which the Pararescuemen, Combat Weathermen, and Joint Tactical Air Controllers (JTACs) of Special Tactics Teams were able to carry out a secondary combat search and rescue mission after completing their fire-support mission for a Marine Raider unit.

Captain Mark Ellis's M50 Joint General Purpose Mask obscured his face behind the tinted eye pieces that was equipped with the iWarrior system and communications. It displayed his vitals and a small geiger counter on the left and right eye pieces respectively. He clenched the HK-416C in one hand and the suitcase weapon in the other as they moved around the park. TF Atlas may have already had one, but the OS wasn't one to be outdone here. Much to his surprise, the other operators didn't appear to be wearing gas-masks, and then, of course, the Remnants decided that a school bus would be the best mode of transportation.

"What the hell kind of cowboy op is this?" Master Sargent Joseph "Grizzly" Davis said as he walked out of the Osprey along with the other 6 members of the Special Tactics Team, all of them wearing the standard OCP 2015 and M50 Gas Masks and their HK-416s with them. He quickly switched his comms channels not realizing that the last comment was on Atlasnet, not the OSSOCCOM net.

"That's probably what they're saying about us. We are the 'Americans', after all." Ellis laughed as he watched the STS members unload two Polaris Dagor air transportable vehicles.

"Sir, we're ready." Senior Airman Caleb "Junior" Adams, the most junior member on the STS team and a Combat Controller, said as they finished unloading the small jeeps and the CV-22s lifted away.

"Well, Sargent, Mount up."
Last edited by Organized States on Fri May 15, 2015 8:57 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Greater Soviet Ukraine
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Postby Greater Soviet Ukraine » Mon May 11, 2015 5:55 pm

Nikolai laughed as Igor was almost flattened by the downwash from the VTOL. They had landed on the ninth hole of Iron-Wood Nine Hole Golf Course, and the rest of the men hopped off as the VTOL began powering down. The six men formed an arrowhead as they began advancing. Nikolai was in the front as the squad leader, Vlad and Oleg were in the middle, covering the side areas, and Viktor, Yuri, and Igor were in the rear. All of the men were experienced Special Ops servicemen, with the exception of Igor. He was taken along to be "sharpened up" as the men had said the previous night. Alpha Group, like Igor, was actually pretty new in ATLAS, and each of the men had something to prove. Nikolai turned on his comm piece to broadcast to all of the group, and said: "Alpha Group will be flanking the Sentinels to the right as they head toward the Orange objective. Our call sign will be Wild Card for this operation." They started advancing down towards the road, but there were no zombies in sight.

Nikolai took the lead, and he noticed the Americans in the distance. "Remember kids, look both ways when you cross the road for zombies!"

The group crossed the road and started heading toward the parking lot. When they were there Oleg said:

"What in the name of бог are they doing?"

Igor gawked. "Does ATLAS usually do these things?"

Viktor shrugged. "I don't know. Last time I checked, I didn't see any soldier trying to ride a school bus into battle."

Nikolai muttered, "Its just the crazy Americans."

They headed towards a group of cars in the side of the parking lot.

Nikolai said: "Me, Vlad, and Oleg get the Cadillac!"

Yuri frowned. "Guess we get the Prius."

Igor bent down to hotwire the cars while the squad pointed at the Americans and kept their eyes peeled for moving things. After awhile, Igor stood up and had a smile.

"The Cadillac is wired. The Prius guy kept his keys in the glove box."

The men piled into the two cars and started the engine. Each had around half a tank of fuel: enough for the moment.

Nikolai rolled down his window and said to Yuri: "Last driver there has to buy everyone vodka at the Winter Palace."
Last edited by Greater Soviet Ukraine on Thu May 14, 2015 3:14 pm, edited 4 times in total.

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Postby New Emmerian Coalition » Tue May 12, 2015 11:44 pm

OOC: For this sake, I'm going to pretend this is the first time Locke, Kate, and Lennox have joined up. Gonna be pretty busy so summed up a number of posts into one, as to make up for my absences.

Atlas Staging Outpost

When word of a return trip to Union City arose, the personnel of the S.O.C. teams gave mixed reactions. Some were eager to go back, finish what they had started, others were petrified at the thought of facing the grim hordes of undead, and some had the fortune to have never visited Union City, post infection.

The scenario? The infection was getting out of hand. BSAA Presence in the city dwindled, and as they dwindled, the ranks of the infected rose. Soon, entire blocks were converted, once lively buildings now converted into towering mausoleums. The Coalition Military's initial defense of the area was completely and utterly eradicated. Thousands of Coalition soldiers swelled the undead population, and the Union City Police Department was not equipped to deal with anything like this. They too, fell swiftly, and without mercy. Task Force Atlas was pulled out almost immediately after the loss of their HQ, The E.S.C. Revelations. This, however, did nothing to halt the remaining Coalition fleet. Within hours of Atlas' relocation, thousands of Rangers stormed Union City, in an attempt to cleanse the area. 3/4 of their force was wiped out, by mutated strains of the virus. The remainder went into hiding across the city, engaging in heavy guerilla warfare against the undead as well as raider factions that sprouted up amidst the chaos.

Having been exposed to body-cam and gun-cam footage from the personnel fighting the infected, S.O.C. Operatives were briefed on the situation. Before Operation Legion, as well as Atlas' interest rekindled in the area, the Coalition deployed numerous S.O.C. Reconnaissance teams to the area. They were not there to engage in combat, but they were to monitor the situation, and send reports to the Coalition garrison in the area. Having sealed off the city, the Coalition Military worked in tandem with international forces, before being recalled. The new keeper of the gate was a W.A. force, screening refugees and having airstrikes on every major area the undead could escape from. The quarantine, initially, was successful. But fearing such a virus would break out again, having endured heavy mutations in the city, the W.A. authorized a Task Force Atlas incursion to annihilate the city and its inhabitants once and for all.

Knowing it could well be a suicide mission, with horrific details of disembowelment and absorption into the undead's ranks, the S.O.C. teams were split. Seeing the teams on the brink, Colonel Lennox called teams of the S.O.C. Personnel out, and had them meet infront of the VTOLs that would take them to their fates.Many had lived in the city at one point in their lives, and many had family who were trapped during the Quarantine.

"Most of you are probably wondering why you're here, why I've taken you from your respective units. You all have one thing in common; you had a life in that city." Lennox called to them. "Listen up! You wanna hit back? We're gonna have to wingsuit in. It's the only way to get close without attracting half the damn city. I can't promise anyone a ride home, but if you're with me, the world needs you now. This thing gets out, we could very well be looking at an epidemic of apocalyptic scale."

"I'll find my own ride, sir." A tall S.O.C operative spoke out, "Chief Master Sergeant Dillon Epps, Call me Dee-jay; TaCom, Emmerian Army Air Corps."

"What the Hell, we're zombie chow anyways." Another SOC Operative called out. "Captain Kate Donovan; 35th 'Misriah' Rangers, sir!"

"Those rotting freaks took my wife, sir." One of the Squad Leaders stepped forward. "I'll be damned if I lose anyone else to them; Lt. Col. Abraham Locke, 33rd Surveillance Corps."

"Ah hell, I ain't letting you all go alone." A final operative stepped forward, "Agent Caske Salani, Strategic Science Reserve; Sector Seven."

The rest of the teams remained silent. The other operatives looked around, none more volunteered.

"I understand how you all feel. I don't hold anything against those who want to stay behind," Lennox said, then looked to the group standing before him. "I'll get your new assignment cleared with General Morshower."

Union City - S.O.C. Entrance

"Lennox!" Dee-jay called out through the cabin. "Drop point is approaching!"

"Alright, here we go, here we go!" Lennox rushed towards the back of the cabin, strapping on his Revision helmet, and getting ready to drop. "Keep it tight!"

"Focus, focus..." Dee-jay struggled clipping the strap of his helmet; dropping into a firefight with the undead unnerved him deeply. The VTOLs slowed as they arrived at the drop point.

"Everybody out, go go!" Lennox shouted, him and the other SOC members jumping from the VTOL and deployed their wing suits. They tumbled through the air initially, having jumped at an unconventional altitude. The goal was to hope the undead were attracted to the VTOL, more than themselves, and make it far enough away using their wing suits to negate the following hordes.

"Get separation, track away, track away!" Locke called over comms, the team spreading outas to avoid collision. "Hard left! 600 feet!"

They swung around the various buildings, narrowly avoiding some and managing to make excellent speed. Within moments, their landing zone was in clear view.

"Pull! Pull your chute!"


-----

"Weapons status?!" Lennox called to the team, surrounding the crate of armaments that dropped with them. He loaded his standard SOC-vest with multiple magazines and each member kept a M9 backpack for miscellaneous supplies. "Keep it light on the 40-mike mikes, keep in mind, headshots are the name of the game." He pulled the charging handle back on his rifle, chambering a round.

"S.O.C. here, reporting in from location 123.85, Los Alamitos Army Air Field, will rendezvous with Carrier Detachment once area cleared of hostiles. Will be securing transport onsite." Dee-jay reported through his iDroid.

"Contact, two footmobiles moving on my 3 o'clock." Salani said, huddling into some debris near the Garrison Army Department. "Not infected, carrying firearms." Salani raised his Mk.48, and looked through his scope, eyeing the hostiles. "Definitely SRPA remnants sir."

Lennox flipped the magnifier on his rifle forward, he looked through and clearly saw two SRPA Operatives attempting to refuel one of their flamethrowers.

"Alright, Locke, see if you can take the one on the right, I'll take the left."

PHIPT PHIPT!

"Kill confirmed." Lennox said, moving forward, using debris as cover. He pulled up his rifle and scanned the nearby buildings. Empty, as far as he could tell, or caved in. Burnt out remains of Coalition transport helicopters littered the supply area, and the runway was badly damaged by the remains of an F-52. Command had marked this area, it having previously been a S.R.P.A. outpost. Lennox was informed of the possibility of S.R.P.A. transports on site. Quick, armored buggies with weapons mounted atop and enough room for Lennoxs' team.

"I'm moving." Locke stood up, and made his way to the Garrison Department's entrance. Through the fence, he could see pretty much all of the vehicles within turned to burnt out husks, with many missing as well. "Department is empty, Lennox."

"Figured." Lennox grunted, then peered out of the corner. "Area clear, move up."

The squad slowly but surely made its way forward, scanning each corner, with Lennox and Locke occasionally using their scopes to scan the horizon. Undead presence was at a minimum. More S.R.P.A. setups became apparent, as the team moved along the outside of the Runway. Most of the buildings were destroyed, some were even riddled with large 30mm holes, implying a fight with standard military forces. The presence of the crashed F-52 probably meant that S.R.P.A was trying its best to sabotage the operations in this area.

As Lennox and his team finally made it to the end of the buildings, they were given the all clear.

"Place is a ghost town." Dee-jay said, looking around. "Those two assholes must've been the only ones left."

"S.R.P.A. usually stays in small fireteams anyways, I wouldn't be surprised if the others are on some supply run. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if there are more S.R.P.A. lookouts in the area." Kate scoffed, then pointed out particular buildings. "It wouldn't be unusual for more parts of their team to be hidden away in the local area."

"Keep it down everyone," Locke hushed the group, "Could be some walkers around any corner."

They continued a small search of the field. It really was empty, but there were major signs of a heavy firefight across the area. Brass from rifles, bullet holes, blood spatters and even a few rotten corpses laid around the base. Some were W.A. and some were S.R.P.A., with a few belonging to (most likely) anarchist raiders. Lennox was unnerved by the raiders' clothing, which suggested a larger gang prowling the area. It was a skull, with a outlaw bandanna wrapped around the lower half, and a bullet hole through the forehead. It also looked hastily stitched on, and cut from some black t-shirt. Salani alerted the squad to an interesting find.

"Hey guys, found our vehicles." He said, pointing to a barricade. Two of S.R.P.A.s little armored buggies sat at the front, surrounded by a horde of undead sluggishly trying to get through the concrete walls and failing miserably. Many S.R.P.A. troops were apart of the zombies' numbers. "Guess we know where the rest of the base went."

"Oh shit, do we have enough ammo for that?" Kate worried, amazed at the sheer number of lumbering corpses they had just encountered.

"We don't but, there may be a way... Salani, do you have any noisemakers?" Lennox asked.

"I don't, but on our map, I noticed this place got a fire department." Salani pointed out, "This place was built in the 40s, right? It spent a part of its lifetime as a Cold War shelter, so it's got a fancy air-raid alarm in it."

"Fukken genius." Locke acknowledged.

"With all the rubble and crashed aircraft in this place, it may be tough to get there. Not too far from here though." Salani continued, looking at his iDroid. "One of us can get through to it, but they'll have to be fast."

"Shit, I can do that." Dee-jay claimed, "Used to run track all the time."

"Alright, Dee-Jay, raise the alarm. Rest of you, let's get closed to those buggies so we can commandeer them and pick him up when he's done." Lennox stated, taking another look at the undead.

"Make some noise brother." Salani chimed in, giving Dee-Jay a high five.

----

With an ungodly moan, the undead horde moved fast towards the base Fire Department. There was enough rubble to keep them from swarming Dee-jay, but not for long, as this horde was obviously very hungry. They threw themselves over obstacles, pushed eachother out of the way, and even lept from their positions once the sound came over them.

"It worked, everyone move!" Lennox called over comms, his team springing into action and bee-lining it towards one of the buggies.

Meanwhile, Deejay worked on a way to make it out of the department alive. He managed to open one of the firehouse garages, and made his way outside. He could hear the ghostly moans approaching. Spotting the only exit onto Constitution Ave. he rushed towards it. Making his way out, he was faced with snarling, flesh eating demons after him. It wasn't the whole horde, but there were many. He raised his AR, and fired at them, dropping them with well placed headshots. A foul, mucus and blood esc liquid spurt out from each shot he placed, indicating the creature's death. More came rushing down the road, and he felt a cold sweat move down his back.

PTHBT! PTHBT PTHBT!

Burst after burst, he brought abomination after abomination down. There were still so many. Finally, he could see the main horde moving towards him. They let out a shriek, penetrating the operator's psyche. This is it. I'm fuckin' done. Deejay thought to himself. As the horde made it closer, he finally heard a 'click'! Taking the magazine out, he struggled to place a new one in. He felt helpless.

Until, however, one of S.R.P.A.'s vehicles rammed through the main group, smashing most to bits and plowing through others.

"Nice job, now get your ass in here!" Kate called, Selani beginning suppressing fire on the horde, shooting out their legs, their torsos, and their faces with his MG. Deejay climbed on, relieved.

"I thought I was a dead man!" He announced, breathing heavily.

"You did good, man!" Locke congratulated Deejay, pulling him onto the buggy, as Lennox hit the gas and sent them down the avenue. "We get what we came here for Salani?!"

"Yessir! Tapped into the S.R.P.A. network here, got a local on every position in this godforsaken place. This was the last one before they all up and surrendered!"

"Nice job guys, let's move to regroup with the main force. I'm sure this information will help avoid some unnecessary confrontation." Lennox informed, "Atlas 1-1, this is Nest 1- Actual. Secured transport, en route to Flora Vista Park on the 605, I say again, en route to the Flora Vista Park on the 605."

(Also, for some reason I was really anxious writing this post. If you need me to change anything, please tell me. The anxiety may show in the post, and I want it to be a good quality one.)
Current Location: Gone Rogue @ DZ02 Steeleport

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Die Erworbenen Namen
Negotiator
 
Posts: 6042
Founded: Feb 12, 2014
Father Knows Best State

Postby Die Erworbenen Namen » Thu May 14, 2015 10:01 am

VTOL LZ
International lands
Death Korps


"Ahhh.... This is a new smell. Much thicker than our battlefields..." Vladimir said, his nose lifted to the air the second the door of the VTOL even dared to crack open. Instantly the entire stench of rotting flesh filled the room, and most, if not all, cringed a little bit. A surprisingly strong stench of death was in the air, and it would've paralyzed even the strongest man. If they had been normal people... Then they, too, would've succumbed. "It's too strong. Masks on, boys!"

Vladimir grabbed the gas mask on the front of his chest and brought it to his face, wrapping the straps around the back of his head and clipping it to the back of the helmet, tightening the straps. With a twist of his wrist, the mask's intake opened, and he breathed in what seemed like hot, fresh air, free of that paralyzing stench. He turned around and watched the other nine soldiers put up their own masks, the entire Namenian section of the VTOL looking like the skulls of half dead people. In the dark, up close and personal... They would've been mistaken for one.

"Suits on, guns out, clips loaded, systems check." Vladimir ordered, and reached over, keying in his personal code and fingerprinting the side of his helmet near his eyes, the suit almost instantly powering up. The boot up system began, and ended almost as soon as it had started, flashing information across the glass HUD of his eye coverings, before going back to clear. Random pieces of information flashed across his screen before settling in the corners where he could attend to it later if he so chose to. "Everyone ready?"

"Ahh... Finally I can move this blasted hunk of metal." Sarge groaned into the comms, stretching his arm out. His voice was a little distorted by the mask, making it sound darker and a little scratchy. There was very little, if not a single, noise emanating from his body as he moved, except the sigh of happiness from his lips. Or was it him breathing through the mask? There was no telling, only guessing. There was some barely audible clicks as clips were pushed into their places and the hammers cocked on the guns, and the buttons of the clip holders fastened again. Some people tested out their modified suits, checking the wrists and other items. All in all, they found it preferable. Except, perhaps, Sarge. "These things are practically unbearable when off."

"They weren't designed for your comfort, Sarge. Well, not just for yours. They were designed for efficiency, and comfort only came into their minds once on the battlefield." Robin remarked dryly into the comms, unemotional as always as he fastened a small scope onto the top of his marksman rifle, the VGM1A4, and looked down the scope, zeroing it in down to around 600 meters before letting it drop down. "I don't think your comfort has anything to do with what we're going to do now, Sarge. Comfort means little to the undead and Emmerian Blackops."

"You know, Robin, just because you were pissy that you couldn't use your long range rifles on the carrier doesn't mean you can be a bitch to Sarge. Samson, got your medkit?" Johnson asked, holding up his grenadier's rifle, the VGM2A2, and checked the ammo count on the back of the gun. The gun was dark against the sun that just blew into their cabin, and the scope on top barely even reflected light.

"Ahh... Now that I'm in the open, I can finally use this rifle. I've got a few heads I've been dying to blast... And all I have to do is get in range." Robin remarked, and Vladimir swore he could feel a dark smile spreading across his lips as the man lifted the gun up. That man was not one to fuck with at range, he knew. But he also knew that at closer range, he was just as deadly as Vlad was.

"Okay boys and girls, nice chit chat. Party's over. Shut up and get into position." Vladimir ordered, and jumped out of the VTOL, his boots hitting the ground with a thud. His rifle was in his hand, gripping the pistol grip tightly so it wouldn't flop around. He turned and pointed towards the yellow school bus that the Remnants had hijacked, and shouted out. "Sarge, quit griping. Everyone, get into that bus. Ed, get your LMG and put it in the back. Rogers, get to the front. Put your LMG in the front and support him. Johnson... You know where you need to be. Move out!"

"Yeup.. Right up front. Alright, boys, go! Robin, you're useless on that thing. Unless you can snipe at 30 + mph, get down." Johnson shouted, and started his run. They disconnected from their cables that charged them, and in the corner of their eyes, they saw the time they had left: 72 hours with the extra batteries they had, 48 hours on their own. They shrugged off their supports and started to run for the bus, Vladimir already inside the bus and waiting for them.

"Koopa... If you run into a roadblock, I swear... Remnant or not, you're going to be my airbag." Vladimir remarked, staring at the remnant at the front. "Okay, Remnants. What's the plan here?"
The beatings will continue. Regardless of morale.

Hurtful Thoughts wrote:Also, nominating DEN as ATLAS's Chef Ramses.
The United Remnants of America wrote:I'm collecting friends. Hate to say it, but you qualify.

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Lantai
Secretary
 
Posts: 38
Founded: Jul 17, 2014
Ex-Nation

Postby Lantai » Thu May 14, 2015 3:01 pm

Trooper Indigo Montague
1st Troop, Special Operations B Company
Union City, International Territory


Indigo could hear Captain Carlisle go over some administrative work while the troop sat in the VTOL on their way to their rendezvous point. “Listen up! We all have markings on our maps explaining our Emergency Rendezvous Points within the city. Once you reach them, call them out on your radios and we’ll all get there.” Indigo herself had a map in a waterproof, foldable pouch wrapped around her left forearm and tightened it to make sure it wouldn’t fall off. “We’re going to accompany some other units with their payload..” She continued, pulling her microphone close to her mouth as the VTOL hummed louder than they could originally hear. “We will help escort them to their waypoint, and exfil back to the VTOLs. We do not engage the enemy unless engaged first, however, intelligence from the units that had been here before suggests that they will be highly aggressive, so we’re going to have to be careful once we get moving.

“Continuing on, make sure all of you have all of your ammunition, equipment, and belongings securely fastened in your pouches. We don’t want a repeat of what happened last time.”
She continued. Indigo could remember that particular moment; the troop had been training helicopter rappelling techniques with heavy bergens with them, however one of the sergeants hadn’t secured their bag properly and it opened mid-rappel, and all of their equipment fell out. The snickers of some of the troopers could be heard over the radio channel, but it was cut short by Carlisle’s oddly bellowing voice. “SHUT THE FUCK UP, NOW. It’s not fuckin’ funny - if that happened to you during a proper combat scenario, we’d all be dead from a fuckin’ rocket hitting us! Wise the fuck up, all of you!”

Indigo had only been with the troop for three months, and had gotten along fairly well with most of the troop, however there were a few people she was struggling to interact with at the moment. As much as she admired Carlisle, it felt like she was oddly cold and distant from everyone; other troopers had recognised that even though it was normal for the Captain to be quiet and aloof, but she was always quite calm. Indigo had taken the Captain's advice and made sure that all of her pouches were securely closed. She first checked her assault vest - there was quite a mixture between PLCE webbing and assault vests within the troop, but everyone agreed that they both had their advantages. She had picked the vests simply because it gave her a slightly bigger pack without interfering with her other equipment. She had also picked up a bandolier of magazines for her G3 rifle, along with a 40mm grenade belt for the grenade launcher attached to it and wrapped them across her bergen; she didn’t want to risk getting into a firefight and running out of ammunition for the magazines in her pouches and start rooting around for stripper clips in her bergen in the middle of it.

Her bergen had more ammunition in it along with a fully stocked medical kit, since she the designated medic. Before she had come over to the LSOU she worked as a medic in the navy, and before that she worked with the Vargon Gang - a Robin Hood-like gang based in western Dimoniquid that helped people who couldn’t afford medical insurance. She and her associates, as she called them, used to rob small pharmacies and clinics for their supplies and set up their own small hospitals. It was a noble feat, but Indigo herself would still do it again. The bergen also had plenty of food and another bladder pack inside for two more days. The rest of the equipment was her NBC MOPP gear, a night vision sight for her rifle, a battery for the squad radio, her weapons cleaning kit, along with a few other basic belongings including underwear, socks, and a change of clothes.

The rest of the troop had a similar set up; some people had more ammunition, some people had decided to help bring along medical supplies for themselves or anyone who needed them since they had heard stories about the kind of action that occurred in the city. The echoing of orders from the Lieutenant Colonel filled the radios when the VTOLs landed, and the troop listened carefully to their orders. “Alright! Everybody stand!” Captain Carlisle ordered, extending the stock on her G3KA4 and racking the bolt. The troop stood up simultaneously and readied their weapons. “Bergens on!” She continued, taking her bergen and sliding it on. The rest of troop did the same, helping one another do so and checking that they were properly secured on. “Okay, let’ open those doors!” She roared, everyone pulling up their weapons and preparing to evacuate the vehicle.

The smell was the first thing to hit them. They had all been around some form of death - some more than other - but this was something they hadn’t experienced before. The troop had panicked slightly and rushed to put their gas masks on to avoid the toxic stench that was invading their lungs. “Fuck me, what was that? I’ve never smelt anything like that before!” Someone called over the radio. Carlisle wrestled her way to the back of the VTOL to examine the situation for herself. She could barely recognise the landscape. It was dead. That was all she could describe it as - the silence was something that put her on edge. She stepped out slightly, getting a good view of the area and watched the other teams drop out from their VTOLs. She tapped Trooper Brent, who was holding a very large Heckler and Koch 21, on the shoulder and ordered him to move forward. He hesitated slightly, and then stepped out.

The initial infiltration was quite calm, despite everyone nervousness about the situation. Indigo herself had been scanning the area quite intently to make sure there weren’t any contacts. They all kept their position for a few minutes,, taking the time to decide their game plan. The three squad leaders, Carlisle, Lieutenant Barton and Lieutenant Tanner were having a quiet discussion. With the threat, the distance of each target location and the squads escorting each one of the weapons, the leaders decided escorting the Servintan Kommandos was the best option. “This is LSOU Captain Carlisle to ATLAS Command - Troop B will help escort the Servintan Kommandos to the Marina Del Rey port complex, over.” She radioed, sending a signal to group over at nearby road to commandeer some vehicles.

Indigo was now sat in back of a read Transit van with the rest of B Squad, with the Lieutenant Tanner and Corporal Emilia Dent in the passenger and driver's seat, respectively. Sergeant James and Trooper Brent both sat with a leg hanging from the edge of the door frame. Squads A and C had found a few comfortable people carriers to cruise in for the ride, with B Squad ahead but behind the Kommandos. Tanner radioed across to the Kommandos. “Okay, Kommandos - we’re all set up here, so you lead the way. We’ll call out if we lose you or if something crops up.” Tanner broke across the radio. Hopefully everything would go smoothly to the port complex, although from what the troop had heard about the previous operation, it may get heated up. Their first mission had just begun.

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The United Remnants of America
Post Marshal
 
Posts: 17183
Founded: Mar 09, 2013
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby The United Remnants of America » Thu May 14, 2015 4:22 pm

Koopa looked behind him and saw that the total of 16 troops had basically filled up the entire bus with their bodies and equipment. Koopa pushed the lever to close the door and put the bus into gear, all the while chuckling as Vlad stood behind him, "Well, Vlad, the real issue right now is you flying through the windshield, so find a damn seat and lemme drive. As for what we're doing, we're gonna take this bus hopefully all the way to Orange, drop off the bomb, set it, and get back here ricky-tick. Sound fun enough?"

As the bus shifted and started to move forward, Jackie had her hand to her ear, insulating the reciever from the noise of the bus and the talking of the Namenian and Remnant operators. She looked up as she got the reports, "Alright, everybody. Looks like we're getting a head start on our way to the city center. Some of the teams are staying behind to guard the VTOLs in case of attack. But for now, let's move out."

In the back of the bus, Ninja and Tarzan moved out of the way of the Ed, the Namenian gunner as he took a position in the back. Tarzan nodded to him, brandishing his own LMG to show their brotherhood in arms. Oreo dropped into a seat in front of Tarzan and looked out over the rest of the bus' occupants before hunkering down, "So, man. Why do you think they dropped us off here? I mean, why didn't they just airstrike the shit out of the city?"

The question made Ninja and Tarzan look up at Oreo and laugh, drawing a questioning stare from Oreo, which Ninja replying simply: "Deus. Ex. Machina."

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

Tarzan took over for Ninja, "Alright, bro, Ninja's been on this hitch 'bout the same thing. He keeps calling it 'deus ex machina,' saying it's the god in the machine. He has this theory that all of us in Atlas are special and the reason we're here instead of airstrikes is because we have to be, like some kind of move plot, y'know? Ninja thinks we're all like storybook characters or some shit."

The Remnant medic slowly looked over at the sniper, which was looking back with a straight face. Oreo started laughing, eliciting laughs from Ninja and Tarzan as well, 'You're fuckin' crazy, man. You need seciton eight'd big time. I see why you're so quiet man." Ninja just smiled and shrugged, going to look out the window as the bus started to move.

Irish pulled the 'suitcase nuke' off of his back and sat it on a seat, electing to sit beside it, an arm wrapped around the backpack to make sure it didn't fall. He wasn't going to let the weapon of mass destruction fall off the seat and explode for some reason or another. He knew if he let that happen, Jackie'd kick his ass through the afterlife, and Irish could let that happen, not again.

Koopa threw the bus into second gear as he pulled out of the parking lot and turned left on the road, watching the GPS on a screen that took up an entire lens of his sunglasses HUD. The road was a roundabout way, but it was easier than going through the more-heavily-trafficked roads that would be blocked off at this point. Koopa moved the bus back and forth acorss the road, dodging the occasional car as the bus made it's way through the streets. He elected to try the bus' intercom, which happened to work, by golly, "Attention, Remnant and Namenian passengers. Uhhh, This is your driver speaking, uhh, we've got a slight headwind and cars blocking our way so we may be slowed down a bit, uhh, be prepared for undead hordes or surviving black ops soldiers, uhhh, you know what, just shoot anything that moves, it's better that way. Anyways, buckle in and sit tight, try to keep your limbs inside the vehicle and enjoy your ride on Koopa Cruiselines!"
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
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Servinta
Minister
 
Posts: 2823
Founded: Jul 12, 2014
Ex-Nation

Postby Servinta » Thu May 14, 2015 6:40 pm

“This is LSOU Captain Carlisle to ATLAS Command - Troop B will help escort the Servintan Kommandos to the Marina Del Rey port complex, over.”


"As if we need protection when I have this!" Kormag said to the team as he fully retracted the sunroof of the Chevy Malibu and slammed down his double barreled Nikonov MK.2 machine gun on top of the roof, denting the metal skin.At 3000 rounds a minute coming from two barrels he wasn't far from correct in his overconfidence in the weapon.

"Yes comrade Kormag we have big guns, but what happens when we are trapped or pined by the dissidents with no one to flank and rescue use from the jaws of death." Staff Petty Lascar Aleksander was quick to silence his squadmate's boasting before it emboldened him to say something stupid or offensive to their allies over the monitored radio channel.

"You worry to much comrade, with these western wheels and our weapons we are more likely to blow up half of Union City before we even set the bomb." Kormag said with a laugh as he cocked the receiver back and draped the ammunition belt around his shoulder.

Vladmir had been sitting in the front passenger seat of the Toyota, listening to Kormag and Alek bickering back and fourth, nothing more than Kormag goading his former peer for entertainment and annoyance to Bogdan who sat silently behind them.Vlad listened with a smirk of enjoyment over the jesting until he heard the words "set the bomb...", causing him to look back at his backpack.

Vlad had been carrying the suitcase sized nuclear device in his main pack, having had to transfer his maps and crypto gear to Junior Petty Lascar Nikita.The boy was an expert communications specialist who was just as capable of reading the maps and handling the secret gear, but only Vlad and Bogdan were commissioned officers and therefore the protocol was for them to operate and posses the secret material while in the feild.

The nuclear weapon was just shy of forty pounds strapped directly onto Vlad's back, only he was entrusted with such a destructive device.While it was deemed perfectly safe and was not giving off harmful amounts of radiation from within its lead lined suitcase-like container, it still made everyone in the vehicle uncomfortable to be near.

“Okay, Kommandos - we’re all set up here, so you lead the way. We’ll call out if we lose you or if something crops up.”


"This is White Shark, we copy you loud and clear comrades.We are going to be taking the route plotted on the Joint Unit Tac-Map, we will travel slow in these suburbs to avoid drawing attention to ourselves and to allow the other teams to catch up when they secure vehicles, Over." Nikita announced over the Atlas radio channel to all units who were authorized to use the secure frequency.


With that the two cars began to slowly roll forward, picking up only to a running pace in an attempt to utilized the quiet engines on the civilian vehicles at low speed.Kormag waved at the transit van that carried the 1st troopers and then at the VTOL's that still had teams inside, he then gave a quick flick of the bird to his squadmates in the car behind his.This angered Bogdan enough to evoke an action that Kormag didn't anticipate, a quick and powerful punch to Kormag's groin caused him to open his mouth in pain but no sound emerged due to his self control and bravado.

Vladimir gave a chuckle that was joined in by the rest of the team in the Toyota, the laugh broke tension and it made the beginning of this mission just a bit more bearable as the cars moved at a snails pace to allow their allies to follow.
Last edited by Servinta on Thu May 14, 2015 6:43 pm, edited 1 time in total.

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Greater Soviet Ukraine
Ambassador
 
Posts: 1128
Founded: Apr 21, 2014
Ex-Nation

Postby Greater Soviet Ukraine » Thu May 14, 2015 7:36 pm

Flora Vista Park, Union City
Nikolai waited for an excruciating 15 minutes while the rest of Task Force ATLAS tripped, stumbled, and wandered to Flora Vista. His men fiddled with their AK's and shuffled uncomfortably; they did not like being in flimsy cars while hungry zombies and pissed off Black Ops forces were nearby. After counting all 103 stains of unknown origin (mostly red) in his Cadillac, Nikolai and his squad breathed a collective sigh of relief as the bus started moving. Yuri got a GPS from his multiple sashes, but Nikolai stopped him over the comms from leaving early.

"The bus goes first."

Alpha Squad then drove off, flanking the objective, with Nikolai and Yuri sitting in the front and Viktor and Oleg riding shotgun. The soldiers in the shotgun seats both held AK's jammed through the recently shattered windows, and looked closely for corpse-like and bloodthirsty-black-ops-soldier-like things moving in the desolate streets of Union City. It was obvious there was a great fire around the residential area they were in, and Vladek, a forensic scientist, noticed that "it was started by an accelerant." Yuri nodded sarcastically, and then said:

"Thanks there old Comrade, but how is that going to help us with the zombies?"

Vladek shot daggers at him, and muttered: "Just saying it."

They chatted idly while they weaved around roadblocks, cars, and other debris from the disaster. Igor, having the luxury of being able to looking around in the back, was deeply disturbed when he thought he saw a figure scamper away.

"Did anyone else see that?"

"What?" Viktor said.

"I thought I saw something."

"Little jumpy there are you? Don't worry, we are too."

Soon, the charred houses gave way to more intact buildings, all empty. Oleg noticed a damaged stop sign.

"Aretesia Boulevard, eh?"

"Yep." Yuri said.

"Oh hey, a 7-Eleven!"

Suddenly, a lone zombie burst out of the shop, attracted to the noise of the car. It, or he, was a store clerk in life, and ran rabidly up.

"How the hell is that thing catching up with us!"

Oleg turned around and motioned for Igor to get his gun. As the zombie store clerk got closer, Igor could start making out more of it's features. It was already in the advanced stage of infection; half it's face was viral growth and one of it's legs was a large, black stump. The rib cage was prominent underneath it's torn shirt, and the inside of the body was empty except for the remains of what had been an organ a long, long time ago. The virus only slowed decay, though, and Igor could see some maggots chewing at the hard growths made by the virus... Cuts and tears across it's face showed that it was a veteran in this hellish battlefield, and it let out a angry moan from the remains of it's mouth with a few huge, grey teeth dripped pure virus.

"Hurry up kid. We don't have all day."

Igor took a deep breath and shot it in head. It collapsed and did not rise again.

Alpha Group was more nervous than ever. After seeing one of those... things, they were worried there would be more nearby. And if there was anything they didn't want to face, it was more zombies. Nikolai turned on the radio, and reported "We have encountered and neutralized a hostile necro."

Soon, a large football field appeared in their field of vision. It seemed to be empty. In the distance, a large sign saying Gahr High School came into view.

Vladek said: "Great. A high school."

"Better hope there aren't crack addicted teenager zombies in there."

"Da, Nikolai. Last time I took out a guy on drugs, it took me eight shots."

Well, their wish had been granted. An angry chorus of moans came out, growing in intensity so much that more than a few of Alpha had to cover their ears.

A large horde of zombies ran out of the school. Apparently, more than a few of them had set shop in the building. In fact, it seemed like it was about all the zombies in the area had congregated here. As hundred of them charged, Nikolai picked up his headset and spoke into the microphone.

"ATLAS, Wild Card here, we're currently being chased by a massive horde of zombies right now. Estimated Time of Survival is five minutes. If not then we made it."
Last edited by Greater Soviet Ukraine on Fri May 15, 2015 5:19 pm, edited 1 time in total.

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The GAmeTopians
Negotiator
 
Posts: 7453
Founded: May 12, 2014
Democratic Socialists

Postby The GAmeTopians » Sat May 16, 2015 10:05 am

"HellBent HazOps touching down. Operation Legion is a go. Engage HazMasks!"
The 6 on-duty members of HazOps touched down, pulling on their black metal armored helmets. Because of the rebreather implemented inside the masks, they earned the nickname HazMask by the HellBent team. Colonel Chell Johnson, leader of Team HellBent and the Project Warfighter squadron, touched down first, followed by the others. Next her lieutenants and good friends, David Everheart and Thomas Santino, dropped down and surveyed the surroundings.
"Colonel, the other teams are moving out. I suggest we do the same. I can hotwire a vehicle if necessary, we should try to find a quiet one though." Thomas gave a sharp salute, then returned to scouting the area. Just as the other three members of the squadron exited the VTOL, Thomas ran over to a Prius and a Honda Odyssey on the side of the road.
"Perfect!" He called over to the others. "David, can you rig up the Honda? Shouldn't be too difficult. I'll hotwire the Prius, since the electric mechanism can be annoying." The two got to work, Thomas pulling his toolkit from his pack. While they did that, Colonel Johnson and Captain Windham, one of the tech specialists under Thomas, pulled two small aerial drones out of their packs. They were two small quadcopters, with cameras mounted on them. Each also contained a small flare gun, to mark targets and launch distress signals.
"Now to give Wheatley a foothold." Chell muttered. She removed a black cylinder from her pack, and shook it. The cylinder quickly expanded into a collapsible antenna, which she then locked into place with a metal band at each joint. Next, she removed a battery pack and a small box marked "Government Property - If Stolen Thief can be Charged With Life in Prison". She hooked these up to the antenna, and in her comm she heard:
"Ooh, so this is what a zombified city looks like! If you don't mind, I'll just get these drones in the air then!" It was Wheatley. The drones' blades started spinning, and they launched into the air, making a perimeter. Just as this happened, the message from Wild Card came in.
"No can do, Wild Card. We're still rigging up vehicles. Afterwards we're heading for the Revelations."
As she said this the Honda and Prius rumbled to life, and muffled cheers came from inside the vehicles.
"Okay crew. Operation Legion is on a roll.
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.

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

Postby Drekka » Sat May 16, 2015 1:44 pm

Placeholder tl;dr post + Tag
Dana Point, Union City
Tangent Squad



In lieu of directly supporting other Atlas operatives, Cyan was tasked with providing surveillance around the
current area of operations and to engage opposing forces. As requested,the VTOL flew to an abandoned carpark within Dana Point. the mechanical bird spewed a slurry of wrappers and dust off the top floor of the 10 storey car park as it hovered 1 meter from the asphalt, all by-products of a city that was once alive. The aircraft may as well be a homing beacon for nearby hostiles, so the squad had to make their insertion hasty

Fireteam 1 hopped out of the VTOL, instantly dispersing to the nearest defilade to provide overwatch for fireteam 2, which was tasked with unloading the 85 pound LC-25 system + munitions and other supplies from the VTOL. An easy task for a group with the cohesiveness that Tangent possessed. Quickly passing the needed supplies down to the pavement.

Carbon flicked his left e-glove around, discreetly signaling the Remnant pilot to return to Flora Vista Park.
As the plane departed, he took a brief second to glance at it kite above the lifeless city,

Requested beforehand, Fireteam 2 split off to search for a suitable vehicle or two to commandeer. In a right echelon formation, the team strode down to the floor below, scanning the sparsely sedan-filled lots for contacts.
Not having to look far, the team saw a sight to behold....A Hilux twin-cab equipped with 10 grand worth's of
offroading equippment with well over a dozen corpses surrounding it, while ironically being highlighted with a ray of sunlight . Unfazed by an obvious trap, Fireteam leader Iota gestured Candid to take point.

Candid moved forward, needlessly stepping around a few corpses, as to keep himself occupied. His CX-3
carbine braced snugly within his arm he encircled the car as he inspected it for any unpleasant surprises . Opening the half ajar door, he was greeted by the owner of such a fine machine, a half-eaten corpse with its hand fused with the key fob. Not even his fortune can save him from his own misfortune , Candid pondered as he pulled the grizzly carcass by the exposed ribcage out of the truckm taking its bloodsoaked seat blanket with it

"All Clear"


Objective Map
Last edited by Drekka on Tue May 26, 2015 9:57 am, edited 4 times in total.

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

Postby Congreveopia » Sat May 16, 2015 8:01 pm

Alpha Force, Platinum Soldiers, approaching Iron-Wood golf course:

“I feel like I’m wearing a flipping marshmallow.” said John as the vtols made their approach into the city.

“We’re used to going up against enemies with ballistic weapons.” said Leighton “Our normal armor theory accepts that either a soldier has to wear very heavy gear to stop a bullet, or that being shot will put a soldier out of action. Here, we’re going up against a force that will mainly be slashing or biting, more like a knife, so armor that protects against melee attacks is more expedient.”

“You gave us that exact statement before we went into battle.” said John “Then you ordered us all to put on our marshmallows. I swear the gloves on this thing are at least a centimeter thick.”

“More in some places, less in others. The area between the fingers is particularly thin.” chimed in Nexus “And just because Leighton is reading from the instruction manual doesn’t mean he’s wrong. A lot of thought has gone into this, it’s good armor.”

“We’re the first ones to wear it into battle, aren’t we.” said Charles.

“A lot of thought has gone into this, it’s good armor.” said Nexus. “But, most recent conflicts have featured more bullets than bayonets, so… yes, yes you are.”

The vtol touched down with a gentle thud on the grass of the golf course, and the Congreveopians, sitting near the front of the vehicle, waited for a couple other squads to get off before hurying down the rear ramp.

“And to think I’m going to be wishing for a wind like this after thirty minutes in the sun.” said Thomas as the four soldiers sprinted through the whirlwind of rotor downwash towards a nearby road.

“First you call the ‘marshmallows’, now you’re asking for built in cooling systems.” said Nexus. “You want to steal that Mercedes-Benz Sprinter near the cloverleaf, by the way.”

“That’s behind a line of trees.” said Leighton. “Charles, can we stop here for you to deploy a drone?”

“I’d like, say, ten meters more clearance from the vtols.” said Charles “I can’t really feel the wind in this marshmallow, and I’d rather it not get blown into a hedge.”

“Roger that.” said Leighton, letting the squad continue running for ten more meters before stopping and looking around for movement that didn’t belong to Atlas. The rest of the squad stopped as well, and Charles began prepping a drone while the rest remained alert for hostiles.

“What’s that smell?” said Thomas, as they stood around stationary, away from the overpowering smell of the vtols exhaust.

“A city without waste disposal or running water, and with a lot of corpses?” suggested John.

“Nexus, am I wearing a gasmask?” asked Thomas.

“We have one squad member who admits he didn’t read the instruction manual for his armor.” said Leighton “Who’s next?”

“There are particle filters in the front of the helmet, where most of your air is coming from.” said Nexus. “The suit isn’t airtight, though. So you could walk through a dust cloud just fine, but you aren’t safe from something like mustard gas.”

“For the record, if a zombie bi-” said Thomas before Charles cut him off.

“We’re ready.” said Charles, tossing a small quadrotor into the air. It turned on its rotors and stabilised itself, then flew off and began checking the treeline at the edge of the golf course.

“I’ll let you know if I see anything.” said Nexus. “You can begin walking to the vehicle, but don’t run or you’ll be there before my sweep is done.”

“Anyways, if a zombie bites me,” said Thomas. “I do not want one of you maniacs to try and shoot it off me. I have a knife, and this armor can handle zombie bites. It cannot handle bullets, so y-”

“An average 21 year old can bite for almost 600 newtons of force if they are anesthetized.” said Nexus “If a zombie bites you in one of your less thick areas, like a glove, you will want to get it off… quickly.”

“I think we should start complaining about how under-armoured the marshmallows are.” said Charles.

“Oh, please do.” said Nexus sarcastically “I’d be keeping the link to your coms open regardless, so you aren’t reducing your bandwidth by arguing with me, but believe it or not, there are other things I can be doing with my processors.”

“Like finishing the s-” said Leighton, being cut off by Nexus announcing “Sweep’s finished.”

“Right.” said Leighton. “Let’s go get that Van then.”

A couple minutes later:

“Done.” said Charles, screwing the panel under the steering wheel back on. “One of these days, one of you has to learn to hotwire.”

“You hotwire by clipping a high-rez camera to your helmet and following Nexus’s instructions.” said Leighton as Charles put his gloves back on, and the rest of the squad climbed into the van “And you’re designated vehicle specialist. That’s why you’re the one who knows how to fly, and that’s why you are the one who hotwires.”

“Then why do I never hotwire helicopters?” asked Charles, sitting down in the driver’s seat and fastening his seatbelt. Leighton took the passenger’s seat in the front, and the other two sat down in the back of the van. The quadrotor they’d launched earlier flew in and landed on the dashboard.

“There is a hospital near the site where we are planting the explosives.” said Nexus as Leighton plugged the quadrotor in to charge “Its helicopter was parked on the helipad when the outbreak occurred, and was never officially removed. It has probably been destroyed by civilians or looters by now, though.”

“Don’t give him ideas.” said Leighton. “And where are we going?”

“Reverse out of these cars and then make a U-turn.” said Nexus “The Remnants are carrying the nuke you’re guarding and they have gotten a school bus working. You will follow them.”

“I see that as soon as there’s no chance of the enemy carrying rocket launchers, stealth goes out the window.” said Leighton while Charles reversed into the car behind him and pushed it out of the way “I suppose there’s some logic to being massive enough to shove aside crashed vehicles and plow through hordes of zombies. Let’s get going.”

Summary: My men have hotwired a Mercedes-Benz Sprinter, and are using it to follow URA's school bus. They are also wearing prototype melee armor. Comparisons to marshmallows have been made.
Last edited by Congreveopia on Sat May 16, 2015 8:05 pm, edited 1 time in total.
"Close air support covereth a multitude of sins." - Maxim 4

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

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

Postby Servinta » Sat May 16, 2015 10:22 pm

"Comrades, prepare to pick up speed.We will be heading north onto the Alondra boulevard and from there east to the San Gabriel River Freeway, Over!" Nikita announced over the radio, having set it to the group Atlas channel for all teams to hear.

The two vehicles hadn't seen any dissidents while driving through the suburbs, but they had seen plenty of abandoned and burnt out homes.This made their mission feel somber as they looked out to see the many houses that once contained happy families, not unlike their own homes back in Servinta.But it wasn't a sightseeing tour for them, it was a task given to them by their command that was to be executed in disregard to their personal feelings.

Most of them had already seen the dissidents up close firsthand, the flesh and bone was once friends and innocents alike.But that was all that was left of them, for the rest of the dissident was virus and monster that needed to be exterminated and purged without hesitation.This was the harsh reality of the world, that no matter what they once were, they were no longer such and had to be removed.

These musings were broken violently as Kormag's double barrel machine gun barked it duel report, causing a group of figures hunch over another about three hundred meters away to drop to the ground silently.Most everyone was snapped back to reality and readjusted themselves to prepare for battle as they pulled onto Alondra Blv.The roadway itself was sprinkled with a light amount vehicle traffic, just enough to maneuver between the cars and trucks easily but not enough to go speeding down the road with reckless abandon.

"Comrades, this is White Shark.We have target confirmation on Alondra, I repeat Alondra is active with targets." Nikita announced over the radio.

"Commissar, tell Kormag the next time he sees a target, to call it out instead of just firing without permission." Vladimir said to Bogdan in the first car where Kormag had set up his machine gun on the roof.

Vlad could see the commissar carry out his orders as he punched Kormags leg and yelled at him from behind the rear widow of the front car. Although he couldn't hear what he said, Vlad knew it was probably something about Kormags mother and then a relayence of his orders.Kormag might have yelled something back but it was yet again impossible to tell what was said, what he could see was Kormag angrily standing back up through the sunroof and manning his machine gun.

"Sir, I have visual on several enemy dissidents.I'd hazard a dozen or so wandering about the cars." Kormag reported over the radio feed.

Sure enough there were over a dozen dissidents wandering in a slow shuffle up and down the boulevard, he could also see a good amount of the cars contained a body although their activity was up for debate.But he was more concerned with the mobile ones and the massive amount of cars that lined the freeway on ramp down the road.

"Handle them as we approach Kormag!" Vlad ordered him.

"Comrades I would suggest locking your doors and rolling up all windows, we're going into a bad neighborhood!" He advised, hearing the chime of the doors being auto locked by Iglan the driver.

Kormag waited until the first few were within a hundred yards before he began to fire controlled bursts from his machine guns twin barrels.The 7.62x54R bullets passed through the dissidents without much resistance, only to blow holes in their grey decaying flesh and ricochet off the asphalt.The creatures let out low growls as they fell and ceased their movements, mostly.

Iglan and Nakita both drove their vehicles respectively through the maze of cars, trucks, vans, and semi-trailers that speckled the road. occasionally a dissident would wander in front of the car, only to be either torn apart by Kormags machine gun or be crushed underneath the wheels of the car.The crushing of bones underneath the wheels was an unsettling sound and feeling for the passengers and driver alike, but aftr the first two times they found that making a sick game of it helped pass the feeling better.

"We are approaching the San Gabriel River Freeway on ramp.Minimal contact made with dissidents so far." Nikita announced over the radio again

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North Arkana
Powerbroker
 
Posts: 8751
Founded: Dec 16, 2013
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby North Arkana » Sun May 17, 2015 11:02 am

Due to a sudden change in team members, the ADF team was slightly delayed compared to the other units...

CPT Michael "Hart" Hartman, of the ADF's RSC, CO of Sierra Team, looks out the rear ramp of the aircraft, over the shoulder of the crewman manning the MG attached to the floor. In the transport bay behind him is his team, SSG Freidrich "Fred" Halder, SPC Andrew "Wren" Renee, and SPC Adrian "Marc" Marcos. As he looks over his team, his eyes fall on the unwanted guest accompanying his team, an operator from the CSA's Special Control Team-Section Eight, Reina de Mazelle, or at least, that's what she claimed her name is.

He shifts his weight slightly, the Tactical Modular Armor (TMA) making small noises as he does so. Having someone from SCT-S8 along for the ride enough to make even the most experienced ADF soldier nervous. Officially, no one knows what S8 does, but everyone has a pretty good idea. Black ops, assasinations, sabatoge, destabilization ops, things that are HIGHLY illegal under North Arkanan law. Not that S8 cares, they might as well be a god unto themselves.

"Sir, I don't like where this is going," Fred says over a secure private channel. "That S8 bi- person probably won't think twice about screwing us over to save her own skin."

"HICOM gave a direct order to take her along, Fred. I don't like it either, but I didn't get to choose."

"Sir, there's a reason S8 is nicknamed 'S8an'," Fred continues.

"I know, Sergeant," interrupts Hart, "but for the time being, focus on the mission. If it's necessary, we'll dispose of her before she causes any trouble."

"I assure you, Captain, I will be an asset during this operation." A female voice suddenly cuts into the coversation.

"Son of a bitch... the damn spook hacked our channel," mutters Wren.

"This 'damn spook', is the one who will be providing all your information and intelligence support," Reina says, a slight grin visible through her helmets full face visor.

Before Hart can make a reply, the pilot makes an announcement over the intercom.

"30 seconds to drop off!"

"Sierra Team, lock and load! Go red!"

The soldiers slap magazines into their weapons and chamber a round. Hart lowers his helmet's visor and activates the polarization and HUD. Around his his team does the same. He turns to Reina.

"You do your job, we do ours. Just stay out of the way."

"Of course, I would never think to jeporadize the mission," Reina responds, loading her own weapon, an MP12.

The Osprey doesn't touch down, rather it hovers approximately a meter off the ground and the soldiers jump to the ground from the drop ramp. They form a hasty perimeter as the aircraft lifts away, and Hart gets his bearings. They've been dropped off towards the southern end of the golf course, on a low rise with a view of the city around them. They'd all seen the devastation through the open ramp of the Osprey while flying, but seeing from ground level really sent the message home.

"More than one-million people used to live here... Now it's a ghost town," Reina says it over the team channel to no one in particular.

"All teams, this is Sierra-One-Actual, we've arrived on station and are beginning ops. Search and rescue operations will begin in the southern sectors of the city.Requesting at minimum a 30 minute warning prior to device detonation. Over."
Last edited by North Arkana on Sun May 17, 2015 11:22 am, edited 2 times in total.
"I don't know everything, just the things I know" Class N14: Tier 4, Type III, Superpower (Usually)
We Do Not Use NS Stats, Link Contains RP Stats
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You are an open-minded progressive; a profile associated with a journalist. You are skeptical towards religion, and have a balanced attitude towards humanity.
Your attitudes towards economics appear neither capitalist nor socialist, someone who would be described as a liberal.
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Hurtful Thoughts
Negotiator
 
Posts: 5044
Founded: Sep 09, 2005
Capitalist Paradise

Postby Hurtful Thoughts » Sun May 17, 2015 2:01 pm

For this particular mission, the Hurti unit of raiders had been allowed to field some of their more specialized equipment for insertion, however, photo-recon indicated no suitable landing-zones for their bulky and heavily modified Mil Mi-6 'Hook' gunship. It wasn't particularly stealthy or fast compared to some of the fancier VTOLs, but made it painfully clear to carry enough ordnance to clear an extraction-point by itself if things went bad. To compensate, the team disembarked somewhat west of the agreed-upon location, largely in hopes to pick-up any survivors from the nearby "Promise Hospital".

Lack of a landing-zone, of course, meant the light APC in the cargo-hold could not be dropped, as the team had to fast-rope down without it; reliant on whatever was on-hand to keep their combat-frames powered instead. The armor provided was never so much as to make them immune to bites, as to allow for a certain level of friendly-fire to prevent their tiny unit from being overrun.

Ammunition-capacity as noted by Foyt, was of serious concern; the order of the day would be to avoid mass-confrontations, as the tac-nukes were to deal with that.

Kayora was brought along, mostly because she'd proven that being able to act as a sort of liaison with the multi-national force of AIs of ATLAS, and her ability to 'mime' unmanned combat-frames in melee-combat; someone thought that last bit may prove useful at ensuring the success of the mission, so despite being a foreign rookie she was shoehorned-in yet again.

Their mission, of course, was to get back aboard the Revelantions located about 32 k to their West by Northwest; largely due to the fact that the ship-board's failsafe AI had decided that self-preservation of itself and its infected crew was of top priority, making the ship itself a veritable bunker full of deathtraps for all non-ATLAS, or even some new-ATLAS members who came within 20 kilometers of the crippled ship's defenses.

This however, would mean the team would have to pass through several major interstate highways packed full of abandoned vehicles, and cross the Union-City River along one of the few remaining bridges, if any remained from trivial efforts to halt the spread of disease. Their best hope would be to head north towards the center of the ruins in order to find a minor crossing that had been either overlooked, or could not have been destroyed due to already being overrun. It would be threading the needle between the threat of a major infected population center, and an infected airport, all while following a road of literal death.

The other reason, was a solitary railroad-bridge just 2 k west of a golf-course, with a burning casino illuminating it from the north. Even then, it was still going to be a 10 k slog with power-suits only rated for 4 hours of autonomous action. So the first order had been to secure transportation.

A nearby rail-yard full of diesel-electrics looked quite promising.
Last edited by Hurtful Thoughts on Sun May 17, 2015 2:18 pm, edited 3 times in total.
Factbook and general referance thread.
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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.

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Shyluz
Negotiator
 
Posts: 6922
Founded: Mar 13, 2015
Corrupt Dictatorship

Postby Shyluz » Sun May 17, 2015 7:23 pm

The Deadman's Express, the favorite ride of U.I.T.U. 13, or more commonly, U2-13, set down several meters behind the rest of the VTOL flotilla with a low thud. The hum of the KRAKEN's twin engines filled the bay with a soothing throb as the good Sergeant Asimov addressed his team. "Alright, as you know, we have very little intelligence or experience with the OPFOR, as well as this is the Imperial Republic's first foray with Atlas forces. I expect nothing but the best, that is, after all, what we were chosen for. March formations is as followed, Vi, you are taking point. I want that shotty of yours silent. You are 'Raider 1-1.' Next up is me, I'm 'Raider 1-Actual.' Next is Pat, you're 'Raider 1-2.' Finally is Zeal, you're 'Raider 1-3.' We'll be doing an arrowhead, and I want all of you to make absolutely sure that you have your suppressors on. Next on the list is the CO for the op, he's a certain, uh... here it is," he said, flipping through a few pages on his wrist mounted PDA, "Lt. Col. Jack 'Jolly' Rogers, from the U.R.A., he'll be referred to as 'Atlas 1-Actual.' We're headed to the carrier with the Emmerians (watch your back around them, they had a black ops squad attack Atlas on the carrier,) Servintians, Lantains (Lantainese? Lantainic? I dunno,) and the GAmeTopian squads." The red light flicked over to green, and the side doors slid open. The squad rushed out, already in formation. "Let's show them our stuff." All the other squads headed over to the carrier had already secured some kind of transport. Asimov glanced at the surroundings, checking for anything useful. Parking lot. Bingo. He waved an arm towards the lot, and the team quickly rushed to the site. "1-1, you know how to hotwire things, right?" Asimov asked politely.

"Aye, I do." She said, looking at a rather classy looking four-seater. "And I think I know just the thing." She got to work quickly, ripping off the bit of designer plastic with the razor-sharp hatchet. She crouched over for a few moments, and then a sizzling noise followed by a yelp of excitement from Vi cued the squad to pile into the leather interior. "You boys ready for a ride, or what?"

... Pat sighed.

The Sergeant grabbed Zeal on the shoulder, saying, "Get Atlas 1-Actual on the horn, tell them we're following the Emmerians to the carrier. Then tell the Servintians that we're following them."

"Aye, 1-Actual. Wilco." With that, the man tapped several buttons on the small PDA mounted onto his wrist, and spoke quickly. "Atlas 1-Actual, this is Raider 1-3, of the Shyluzan U2-13, we're carrier inbound, confirm." He then tapped for a few moments on the pad again, and spoke, "This is Raider 1-3, of the Shyluzan U2-13, we're tailing you to the carrier, be advised." He then turned to the sarge, "I sound official enough?"

"A bit stiff, actually. Anyway, 1-1, gun it. We're going to play a bit of catch-up with the Servintians."

"Aye, aye, bossman." With that, the car accelerated towards the Servintian convoy.
Last edited by Shyluz on Mon May 18, 2015 3:20 pm, edited 2 times in total.
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Ĩ̷̪̰͍̤̥̣̼̼̍͂̓̐͜ á̴̜͈͎̮̭̫̤̏͂̉̆͒̂͜͞ͅm̢̡͇̟̜̮̰͌͑̓́̚ n̸̨͖̥̰̥̲̎̔͛͑͛̀̑͘͝͠ͅó̡̠̯̟͕̽͂̄̽̽͝ț̶̡̡̩̝̼̙͚̲͑͋͌̽̊͒̉ͅ y̢̦̻̫̤̬̬̳̽̈͌͊̍̕͢͟͞ẹ̴̖̣͔̘͓͇̤̄͊̂̌̈́͠t͙̝̹͖̘̻̭̿̂̐̋̋̑͋́̉̚͢͢ d̯̖̙̮̽̀̄̓̅͑͌͜ȍ̸̜̟̞̘́̔̓͋͟͝͠ͅn̴̢̢̞͖̱͇̦̼͍̊̅̎̑͆͂̉̆̕͡ȩ̧̝̪͉̟̑̑̾͐̀̀͜͡.̛̝̥͓̟̀̂̇͂̐̚͜͜ W̧̳̲̖̯̫̍̍͂̂̚͞h̳͕͔̙̺͚̊̓͛̐̽̏̇͟͜͠ã̡̨̱͙̪͎̭͙̂̑̍͐̑͌̌͂͜͡t̶̙͎̥̳̞̿̄̔͊̈̍͟͟ i̶̡̡͇͕̯̦̬͔̝͛͐̇̿̾̽̅͟͡͞s̸͇͍̙̪̼͚̹̜͙̹̒̈́͆͒̿ ḑ̷̢̠̪̥̖͍͖̇̂̀͊̍͋͋̋͞ͅę̶̬̮̤̱̮̙̜̗͗̓̌̑̀̒̽̕͞͠ą̵̩͔̟̤͈̥̈̒͌̓͌̂̆͠d̨̗̪̝͇̩̣̟̦̪̑̅̀͠͠ m̥̥̰̳̮̦̱̿̆̽̿̑̏̌̆͡a̶̡͍͓̻͈̙͍͊͂͑̃̽ỳ̫̠̼̹͚͒͛̔̓̈́̿̄́͠ ń̟͎̗̳̮̜̂́̒́͒̀̓̊͟ȩ̨̢̞̼͉̘̼͑͑̿͌̊̒͜v̸̡̖͇͓͍͕͖̣̘̤̀̐̇̈́͒̕ȩ̛͇̫͙͕̰̈́͑͒̓͛͋͠ŗ̶͇̝̹͈̜̜͍̲̥̋͊̒̆̈̓͗̐̕ d̜͚̖͔̹̉͑̊͒̓̂̒̕í̴̡͕̮̥̖̄̍̂̉͂͌̂͝e̖̯͇̱̱͋͌͗̃͐̋̚͝.̫̰͚̘̼͂̌̇̓͋̾
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Lantai
Secretary
 
Posts: 38
Founded: Jul 17, 2014
Ex-Nation

Postby Lantai » Mon May 18, 2015 10:11 am

Trooper Indigo Montague
1st Troop, Special Operations B Company
Union City, International Territory


1st Troop had heeded the Kommando's radio call, and began to set themselves up. Lieutenant Tanner and Indigo had swapped rifles so there was much more firepower up front with both a normal rifle and a grenade launcher, plus he had taken the bandolier of 40mm grenades from her pack as well. Indigo had put her bergen between her legs and placed the G3KA4 on top of the bergen to give her a more stable platform to fire from. Sergeant James and Trooper Brent had done the same with their machine guns, however had far less room to work with than Indigo and had also locked the back doors.

Squad A, in the red vehicle, and Squad C, in the blue, were trying to adopt similar manners in their vehicles by folding down the back seats so they could properly aim out the back and sides of their people carriers. It was a bold move to opt for this style, but with the urgency of the Kommando's radio message, it seemed more than necessary. Indigo peered through the window of the side door of the transit van, and tried to spot their contact. "Lieutenant, can we have a combat threat report? How do we hit these things?" She asked, trying to spot any enemies.

"My guess? If they come near us, you shoot the fuckers." He replied, locking his door and winding up his windows. He adjusted his seat so he could fire from a more comfortable position. "That goes for all of you - you see it, call it out. It gets within six feet of this van, gun it down, center of mass."


Trooper Charles Urdan
1st Troop, Special Operations B Company
Union City, International Territory


"Captain, is that stuff with you and Lieutenant Tanner true?" Charles asked, taking off his General Service Respirator, or GSR, and looking at Carlisle. There had been many rumours about Carlisle and Tanners relationship ever since they arrived in 1st Troop, but nobody ever had the courage to ask either of them what exactly had happened. Some rumours say they were star-crossed lovers back in their gang days, while some rumours say that they were in a purely physical relationship. Charles was unsure of the matter, and since he was the newest with only a month in 1st Troop, he decided to clear it all up.

"Trooper, let me put it this way. If you ever ask something like that again, I'm throwing you out this fucking car for whatever's out there. Understood?" She replied, taking off her GSR. The stern look, plus the combination of tattoos strewn across her head solidified the threat in Charles's mind, and he nodded. Charles didn't know what Carlisle had done to put herself in this position, but with the amount tattoos he expected it to be something quite troublesome. The tattooed skeleton jaw outlined on her face signified that she was assigned a life imprisonment. The dragon that took up most of the left side of her skull showed that she was an ultranationalist, especially with the particular blue and white colour scheme. He could also see other various tidbits, such as small tears for murder charges, small flowers for peaceful or violent protesting, and large stars dotted around that signified the various prisons she had been moved to and from.

All of the troopers had these tattoos on their body - some prefered to keep them out of sight and had them plastered on their chest and back, like Charles, while some wore them proud. That was another thing Charles couldn't quite peg on Carlisle; did she regret them, or did she not simply talk about them? These questions could only be by one person, and she didn't seem quite talkative at the moment. "What's with the dragon?" He asked, pointing to the large tattoo.

"What did I say?" Carlisle snapped, drawing her knife from the sheath frog that was hanging from her PLCE webbing belt. Charles took that as a hint that maybe he shouldn't be talking anymore. The squad could feel the car move through the course of vehicles that were left on the road, and it probably felt the same with the other squads.

"We are approaching the San Gabriel River Freeway on ramp. Minimal contact made with dissidents so far."

"Understood, White Shark, we're firmly on your tail. Just for clarification, Squad A is in the blue people carrier and designated Troop 1-1, Squad B in the transit van just behind you is Troop 1-2, and at the rear is Squad C is in the red with Troop 1-3. Anything erupts while you're up front, try and give us a heads up, over."

User avatar
The United Remnants of America
Post Marshal
 
Posts: 17183
Founded: Mar 09, 2013
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby The United Remnants of America » Mon May 18, 2015 7:16 pm

VTOL Landing Site

There were seven VTOL aircraft still on the ground at the golfcourse and the park. These were part of the Remnant Air Force, but had been transferred to be used for Task Force Atlas. The other three VTOLs weren't Remnant and therefore weren't being kept track of to the extent that the Remnant aircraft were. Most TF Atlas operators had taken a ride on the RAF VTOLs, and now that most of them had departed the area in a bus or hotwired vehicles, the crews of the planes, two pilots and two engineers, were checking loose paneling and running system checks. Lt. Col. Rogers sat aboard the "lead" VTOL on the ground, a tablet on his lap which had a running satellite feed of the operations area. Through this, and through the monocle model of X-Com headset over his right eye and in his right ear, he was keeping track of the entire task force. The monocled X-Com was the original model, just with updated software, and now was reserved for field commanders, which Rogers was. The glasses model was given to field operators, like the Sentinels in the bus, who each had a pair. With his X-Com, Rogers listened in to the open transmissions on the Task Force's channel, and also acknowledged several updates addressed to Atlas One-Actual, which Jolly had momentarily forgot was himself. It was going to take a little more time before Jolly was comfotable and used to being the CO of TF Atlas. Even as the officer watched the satellite feed, he grit his teeth; A couple of the VTOLs were running their engines for their systems checks in order to investigate engine sputtering or rotor wobble, both of which could prove to be fatal in the air. He feared the prolonged sound would attract unnecessary and unwanted attention.

Scattered around and between the VTOLs were twenty-five TF Atlas operators from four teams: The Farlandrian 1st Commando Regiment, the Olorian 1st Special Forces Division, the Torumberrian CANSSOC, and the Erusean Blackjacks. These troops were ordered to stay with the VTOLs and protect them while the aircraft waited for the two teams moving to set the nukes, in case the aircraft were attacked.

The young CANSSOC operative had his back turned the wrong direction and he was looking into the "wagon's circle," as the expression went. He was closest to one of the running aircraft, and didn't hear the shuffling as the front runner of a herd made its way slowly but surely towards him to him. He turned at the last second as he picked up the scent of rotting flesh, his scream being cut off midway through as the first walking corpose fell onto him, its rotted jaws and yellowed teeth sinking into an exposed neck, its fetid fingers pulling at body armor. It was a full thrity seconds later that one of the cold VTOLs, the crew inside drinking water and joking around, bay doors open, got a distress call out as the undead climbed into their plane. As the first engineer went down, the second one pulled his pistol, firing into the invading crowd as the pilot ran to the radio on the control panel and pressed the transmit button: "ATTENTION TASK FORCE, LANDING SITE UNDER ATTACK! REPEAT LANDING SIT UNDER ATTACK!" The shooting of two pistols stopped, causing the pilot to whip around. The undead had overtaken the co-pilot and the other engineer, the pilot stammered out a curse before pulling his own pistol out of its holster as the first under grabbed at his flight suit. He put the muzzle fo the pistol to his own head an dpulled the trigger.

The transmission caught Jolly's attention immediately, and he ran to the bay doors to look out. What he saw made the lieutenant colonel silent, unable to curse. Hundreds of undead strode from the surrounding areas, invading from all sides. The guarding operators had taken notice and were starting to fire into the crowds of rushing undead. The two VTOLs with running engines were lifting off the ground, being the most ready to go. One of the planes' loading ramps lowered and Jolly could see the crew chiefs of the VTOL placing a SAW on the ramp's emplacement and beginning to fire into the undead. The other VTOL rotated in air and he could see them beginning to follow suit. Jolly turned to the crew of his plane and screamed, "I want this thing in the air now!" The pilots acknowledged it, and Jolly spoke into his X-Com with the same hastiness, "All task force aircraft, lift off, this is an emergency. Repeat, all task force aircraft are to lift ASAP." All Jolly cared about currently were the landed RAF VTOLs and the guarding operators. He'd completely forgotten about the other aircraft that hand landed with the Task Force that wasn't Remnant Air Force, but he knew they'd recieved the message, too.

The operators had collapsed into a ring around the four secure RAF VTOLs still on the ground. They knew there was air support from the tracer fire from two points overhead, and they knew more was going to come as engines behind them started to whine and rise in pitch as the remaining aircraft began to warm up, readying for takeoff. The operators were slowly being pushed back as the undead made surges against the gunfire, slowly taking one operator at a time until each of the four teams had at lost at least one member. The undead were almost acting intelligently as they formed into knots of clawing limbs and gnashing teeth and drove after an operator who hadn't taken a step back like his brothers had or had to take a second to reload his spent rifle.

Rogers sighed with relief as he felt the VTOL he was on rumble as it lifted off the ground slight behind one of the others. Their loading ramps were already open and the crew chiefs rained hot shell casings onto the ground as the fired into the rushing dead. Jolly ran to the loading ramp and kneeled down by the edge to watch as the undead slowly filled the spaces where the VTOLs had been and the ring of operators shrunk to protect the remaining planes as a few more living fell. The second-to last VTOL rose into the sky, closing it's loading ramp as it did so to keep the undead from getting in as they were mere feet away. It was at this point that Jolly watched as the surviving operattors on the ground, maybe fourteen in all, ran to the last VTOL and ran in as a horde of undead stayed on their heels, as the last operators climbed in, the VTOL began to lift off, but it was too late. Jolly watched in horror as the horde charged the loading ramp and began to climb in. The first few were quickly cut down, but they kept coming in waves, boarding the VTOL as it attempted to climb, the faster undead running and jumping to hang on and climb aboard. Over the comm channel, Jolly heard shooting and screaming as he watched the VTOL climb to a height matching the rest of the VTOLs, then start to list to one side. Obviously, the cockpit and the pilots had been attacked by the boarded undead. The VTOL quickly dropped to one side before righting itself, then it wobbled its wings a bit before veering quickly to the left towards another plane. The other VTOL had no time to dodge, and the infested aircraft struck the other plane, creating a sound of twisting metal as both planes drove into the ground, smashing together and exploding together, clearing an area of undead. The shockwave traveled up and offered turbulence to the survivng four RAF VTOLs, which Jolly now saw were the only four aircraft to have made it off the ground. He stood in the open loading ramp, silently giving thanks to the operators and crewmen that had just been slaughtered before speaking into the mike, "This is Atlas One-Actual. Landing Site is lost. Several aircraft are down. Several operators are KIA. We have four planes left. Suggest finding alternate landing positions." Jolly knew, but didn't say, that there were now no longer enough craft left to fully extract the task force. He knew there was a Drekkan VTOL that had landed to insert on a parking garage and an Exnatan aircraft that had broken off from the group to insert elsewhere. He also knew a Hurti gunship had joined with TF Atlas. Jolly needed ot find these three aircraft, as they'd now be crucial to extraction of the task force. As Jolly watched the undead swarm and begin to cover the burning wreckage, feasting on charred and scattered limbs from the crash, Jolly hoped that the rest of the Task Force could get this mission done.
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.
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User avatar
North Arkana
Powerbroker
 
Posts: 8751
Founded: Dec 16, 2013
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby North Arkana » Mon May 18, 2015 9:20 pm

"Sierra-1-Actual, this is Viggen-6-1. We bring gifts from afar. Over," the ADF pilot says jokingly over the radio.

"Roger that Viggen-6-1. We are holding position at the south end of the golf course, near the groundskeeper's shack. Dust off your cargo and then get out of here. Over."

"Roger. I don't fancy hanging around at ground level down there anyway. Out."

With the team formed up near the shack, Hart takes a moment to glance at the map in his HUD. The big commotion at the main landing site isn't too far away. His team needs to put some distance between them and the infected quickly. Fortunately, the follow up ADF Osprey carries an M1151 HMMWV, armed with a Mk3 MOD 0 fifty-caliber Gatling gun. Even so, Sierra team probably has mere moments to mount up and get moving after dust off before the horde turns its attention to them.

"Sir, look," Wren says over the team channel. "Smoke coming from the north."

"Damn it," Hart listens in on the Atlas channel, "three VTOLs are out of action." He switches to the air-support channel. "Viggen-6-1, this is Sierra-1-Actual. Do you copy? Over."

"I read you, go ahead. Over."

"3 VTOLs have been taken out of action. What's your fuel status? Over."

"Not good, this long haul with the Humvee means I'm almost at bingo fuel. I'll have to refuel after dropping this thing off before I can help. Viggen-6-2 is still in the area though. Over."

"Roger. I'll get in contact with the him. Out." Hart adjusts frequencies slightly to increase the range. "Viggen-6-2, this is Sierra-1-Actual. Do you copy? Over."

"I read you, there's some interference, but I can hear you. Over."

"We need you to give us some air support while we move. What's your fuel status? Over."

"I have about thirty minutes before bingo fuel. Over."

"Okay, that'll have to do for now. Stay on station in the area. We'll call if we need help. Over."

"Roger. Moving to holding pattern. Out."

ADF UV-22 Ospreys carry two Mk3 MOD 0 Gatling guns as standard, one on the chin, the other at the rear ramp, along with two launch pods each holding 19-rockets.

"Sierra-1-Actual, this is Viggen-6-1. Dropping off cargo now. Over."

The roar of engines sounds out over the grass as Viggen-6-1 descends with the Humvee slung from its belly. Hart leans into the downdraft, watching as the cables holding the Humvee to the drop-ship fall away.

"Sierra Team, mount up! Fred, get on the gun!" He looks up at the Osprey. "Package received. Over."

"Have fun out there boys. Don't forget to write. Out"

The Osprey lifts away, as the team members climb into the armored vehicle. Marc takes the wheel and Hart takes the passenger seat. The two back seats are occupied by Wren and Reina.

"Alright, Sierra, let's get this show on the road."
"I don't know everything, just the things I know" Class N14: Tier 4, Type III, Superpower (Usually)
We Do Not Use NS Stats, Link Contains RP Stats
Progressivism 75
Socialism 56.25
Tenderness 40.625
You are an open-minded progressive; a profile associated with a journalist. You are skeptical towards religion, and have a balanced attitude towards humanity.
Your attitudes towards economics appear neither capitalist nor socialist, someone who would be described as a liberal.
You appear to be, a sensible realistic egalitarian with few strong convictions.
/人 ‿‿ 人\ Just sign on the dotted line please...

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

Postby Exantos » Mon May 18, 2015 9:53 pm

20 Minutes after the other V-Tols had left from wherever we had taken off from

As the Exantonian V-Tol prepared for takeoff. The engines turned on and began to warm up. Phil walked to the pilot seat to get the teams’ mission. Opening the door between the Pilot and passenger seats and easing himself inside, as he entered the darkened area, the copilot turned around and wordlessly handed him a folder with the giant word Classified on it. Phil nodded and turned back around and left the room to read the papers and brief his team. As he sat down on the bench the papers said:

*CLASSIFIED*

*Clearance Level Omega Red Mk.IV*

During this mission, you will be searching for the famous celebrity Sasha Shnovich. She was inside of the city visiting family when the Outbreak occurred. We have good information that she is still alive, however it seems that she is being held by the Raider Group. Fulton’s Mad Dogs. You will be tactically inserted into what seems to be their territory and you will find their base and evacuate her out. If Exantos sweetheart dies, you could not imagine the consequences. If you manage to complete this mission quickly, then you will continue on to support the other Special Forces with planting suitcase nukes.

That is all and Good Luck,

John Smith

Head of the EDF

Enclosed within was a map of the city and the location of the assumed base of Fulton’s Mad Dogs.


“Holy shit.” James said. After Phil briefed them. “I used to have a crush on Sasha when I was younger. Isn’t she Miss Exantos now?”

Phil looked straight at James letting him see the anger that was building inside of him, “James I swear to the Flying Spaghetti Monster. If you hit on Ms. Shnovich while we are on this mission. You will be booted off of the V-Tol so quickly that you won’t even realize it until you hit the ground. We are here to rescue her and that is it. I don’t want any of your silly antics along the way. Is that clear Private?”

“Yes sir.” James said.

“Good now we’re approaching the drop zone, and we need to be ready for anything.” As Phil was saying that the V-Tol shook and pings were hitting it from underneath.

“You mean something like that, sir?” Jacob half-jokingly asked.


“I mean something exactly like that Jacob. Now give me one second as I check with the pilots to see what seems to be the issue.” Phil replied as he stood up and walked to the Cockpit. As he entered into the cockpit the Co-Pilot turned towards him and said, “Sorry but it seems like a group is shooting at the aircraft. We think they’re raiders as they are using small arms fire. Unlike the S.R.P.A who should have Stingers and other anti-Aircraft weaponry.”

Suddenly the cockpit started beeping and the Co-Pilot starting to look panicked said, “We’re opening the bay now. You guys are going to have to do a 20 foot jump into hostile terrain. It looks like they have stingers and we didn’t realize that. Fuck!” As something hit the side of the aircraft and the V-Tol started to spin.

Phil sprinted out of the door and grabbing some of his gear he motioned for the others to follow. He jumped out of the spinning V-Tol and Ricky and James followed. Phil saw Jacob hesitate for a second looking back at the cockpit. When the V-Tol suddenly exploded!

“Jacob…Jacob!” Phil yelled as he fell, because he couldn’t see him. Looking down at the ground Phil readied to roll at his landing when suddenly something hit him in the back of the head and as his body went limp, all he thought was, “Jacob.”


5 minutes Later

Phil opened his eyes surprised that he was alive and looked around him. He saw James unconscious beside him and Ricky was nowhere to be seen. As he tried to lift up his hand a haze of dizziness hit him and he almost fell back into the blackness that he had just escaped from. Looking around, he saw a charred body on the ground and a few people beside it. As he tried to see them better he shifted his head and a piece of metal hit the ground. The Raiders startled and turning around he saw that they were cutting up the body and packaging it. “That’s what people have come to out here?” He thought as two of the raiders started to swagger towards him.

“Well lookey here. It seems like we got ourselves a live one.” One of the raiders said.

“Oh yessss. I can’t wait to hear him squeal like the last person we found.” Replied the other one.

“Mmm and he’s going to taste delicious when we’re done with him. Just like what looks like one of his squad members over there.” Said the first.

Upon hearing this Phil’s vision went red and he blacked out…. Suddenly someone was shaking him. “Optio…Optio. PHIL!” Phil’s eyes snapped open and he immediately saw Ricky shaking him.

“What Ricky.” He tried to say.

Ricky looked at him and said, “Good job on those two guys, you distracted the rest of the party by smashing their heads in and I managed to take out the rest.” As he gestured to the two bodies next to Phil. Phil looked down at his hand and saw in each one he held what seemed to be a large blunt object, and upon closer inspection it was what used to be a metal object now covered in blood and gore and dented in the shape of a human face. Also Phil’s middle finger was almost touching his wrist. Which he couldn’t feel at the moment. Phil looked at and suddenly said, “James, shit is he ok?”

“Ricky nodded and said, “He’s ok and is setting up a camp. Jacob’s pretty badly beaten up and we’re not sure if he’ll make it. Surprisingly it wasn’t the burns that got him, but rather the fall which hit him pretty hard. My ankles sprained and James’s left arm is broken. Both of the pilots died and that was the Co-Pilot who you saw was getting chopped up by those cannibals. Let’s get you over to the camp and see what we can do about your hand.”

Phil said, “Yeah.” As he stood up, Phil suddenly felt a wave of dizziness hit him and almost fell down before Ricky caught him and said, “Looks like a piece of debris hit your head pretty hard. You’re still bleeding a bit back there. Let me take a look back at the camp.”

As Phil and Rocky limped towards the camp and as they arrived they saw James setting his broken arm and trying to hold his sniper rifle. Realizing that he couldn’t he took Jacob’s HK416 and hoisted it. Making sure he could hold it with one arm set he turned towards Phil and Ricky and walked towards them.

As Ricky helped Phil to stretcher they had created. Phil turned around and let Ricky start to Gauze up his head. Look around he saw Jacob’s entire had gauzed up as well as he left arm and Right Leg. James had put his shirt on, but Phil knew that there were some bad burns on Jacob’s torso that needed to get looked at immediately. As Ricky finished tightening the gauze, Phil felt as though he was brought back to earth and stood up without feeling dizzy.

“I hope there wasn’t any brain damage.” He said, “Also James do we have any of our radios still. I need to set out a distress beacon to see if anyone can help us.”

“Yes sir.” James said as he handed over a radio to Phil. Phil changing the radio to the Atlas frequency said, “SOS. I repeat SOS. The Exantonians have been shot down. Here are our coordinates *Insert coordinates here*. We require immediate assistance. I repeat immediate assistance. If anyone can hear us please respond.”

Phil placed the radio down and grabbed his F-2000 which Ricky had taken with him. Checking to see if he had a full clip and that his suppressor was on. He grabbed a few more mags, and sat down. As James sat down next to him and Ricky took up the first watch on the exterior of the camp. James said, “So what do we do now?”

“Now.” Phil said, “Now we sit, and wait, and Pray.”

A Moan was heard in the distance and coming closer….
"The only normal people are the ones you don't know very well."-Alfred Adler

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Die Erworbenen Namen
Negotiator
 
Posts: 6042
Founded: Feb 12, 2014
Father Knows Best State

Postby Die Erworbenen Namen » Tue May 19, 2015 9:24 am

DEN
'Armed' School bus


"Deus Ex Machina, eh? God in the Machine... You know, if we're storybook characters, that would explain why I sometimes lose my train of thought. Just him back spacing or shit." Johnson replied, shrugging. The bus suddenly jolted with the engine's sudden movements, and Johnson and Rogers jolted backwards then forwards with the bus, adjusting to the movements. Johnson looked over his shoulder as the bus moved forward, watching the ground disappear behind them, before going back to watch the front. He shrugged and watched as he saw a small blip of light, and could barely hear a small explosion. "Doesn't really matter, huh?"

Ed had already adjusted to the movements, and was smiling in almost excitement, checking the status of his LMG. He was one of the newest five that had been added to the original team, and as such, was somewhat excited, breaking some of the aura of the Death Korps... Well, at least to the rest of Atlas. He held up his gun and placed it on his knee, keeping his hand on the ready position, holding the pistol grip. Being bored as he usually was, he looked over at Tarzan and sighed, thinking of a conversation starter. "So, Tarzan's the name, right? I checked the records on the briefing Vlad gave us and found the name of the MG. So, how long have you been in the force?"

"Don't start this shit again..." Sarge groaned, sitting down on one of the seats of the bus, rolling his eyes under the mask. He adjusted the backpack so he didn't have to sit awkwardly when he did, and put his hand on his knee, looking back at Ed. "Every single time we go on a mission, you always find some gu-"

Robin didn't say a word, but had pushed his rifle barrel in front of Sarge's body, and had effectively shut him up. Sarge stared, not saying a word, but trying to find the perfect combination of words perhaps to speak to him. "Sergeant... If I were you I'd lay off my family members. An antisocial gorilla like you shouldn't be insulting those smarter, and more socially successful than you."

Sarge fumed, glaring at him in anger as he struggled to find a rebuttal, slammed his fist on the seat as Robin must've smiled, scoring a direct hit. Not everyone on here was as successful as they wanted the others to think, and Robin knew that. Vladimir couldn't help but chuckle as he watched, almost laughing at the three of them. "Careful of the silent ones, Sarge. They always are the scariest. Besides, Ed's just making smalltalk. I was going to ask something similar, anyway. We've been in ATLAS far too long to not know anything of the other originals. Good to see some new members take initiative."

Ed's head turned and nodded at Vladimir, who smiled beneath his gas mask. If they didn't have the Gas Masks on, the subtle body language of the solids would be visible, and even more cues could be conveyed between the soldiers. Still, Vladimir had his ways. If anyone had a very good pair of eyes, and knew what to look for, they would've caught Vladimir's gloved fingers twitching subtly and fast. It was a secret way of communication among the operatives, for undercover missions. It meant 'Leave this for later, Ed'. He didn't need a return message.

"Shut up, the lot of you. Goddamn, you fucking never shut up... Anyway, now that I've got your attention, I'm getting some radio." Samson shouted out among them, shaking his head in anger. He pressed the earpiece closer to his ear, but he knew that he might as well be trying to quiet out a rock concert. In a moment, he nodded as if acknowledging, and turned to the others. "Other teams are engaging what seems to be swarms... HQ reported the Exantos VTOL has finally lifted off, goddamn lazy bastards... And..."

"What?" Sarge asked, looking over at Samson who was now sitting with his back against the wall of the bus. He leaned in, and Vladimir rolled his eyes, but Samson didn't notice. He didn't really care. He was too intrigued by his radio.

"The LZ has been compromised. Three teams have been neutralized by a rush of a horde. The CO is alive, still. But... They don't have enough VTOLs to get us out of there if we all live. They need another aircraft. On another note.. Those stupid Exantos? Yeah. Those idiots got themselves shot down not too far from what looks like the middle of the city... Right near our target. They're transmitting an SOS." Samson replied, and Vladimir looked over at him, then back at the Remnants. What would they need to do? Someone had to get those guys back...

"Answer them. Hey, Koopa! When we get to near our target, we need to stop. Robin, Rogers, Johnson, Samson and Sarge need to get off and assist the Exantonians. They'll rendezvous back with us at the target, and we'll head back to a new LZ." Vladimir said as Samson started relaying back to the Exantonians that he had gotten their message and that a small squad was on their way. "Sound good?"
The beatings will continue. Regardless of morale.

Hurtful Thoughts wrote:Also, nominating DEN as ATLAS's Chef Ramses.
The United Remnants of America wrote:I'm collecting friends. Hate to say it, but you qualify.

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Monfrox
Post Czar
 
Posts: 33276
Founded: Mar 25, 2011
Father Knows Best State

Postby Monfrox » Tue May 19, 2015 6:17 pm

Somewhere off the coast of Union City

The atmosphere in the hold of a black MH-60M was very dull as a crew chief stood watching five girls check and recheck their equipment. Music blasted through speakers until the chief turned it down a bit to speak up.

"One minute!" He announced to the squad.

All of their ears simultaneously twitched as the words were spoken. One minute. One minute until they were dropped into whatever hell awaited them. Sergeant Pitt decided to speak up.

"Alright, you know the drill!" She started, shouting over the music and the sound of the engines. "We're getting inserted to rendezvous with one of the other Task Force's squads that took a dive somewhere in the city! The area is expected to be hot, so we'll be dropped off and have to make the rest of the trip there on foot! Remember to watch out for deadheads and other people!"

"What's the ROE, Sergeant!?" Another girl with short white hair, known as Zweig, asked.

"Rules of Engagement are waste any mother fucker who doesn't identify themselves when we ask them nicely!"

"That's pretty harsh!" The resident blonde, Sommer, added.

"It is harsh, Corporal, but I'd rather not go home from our first international operation in a casket! Don't take chances, but be sure of your targets! We're here to rescue soldiers, so don't go giving them a new asshole to shit out of!"

"Thirty seconds!" The crew chief shouted.

Sergeant Pitt went over and opened both the side doors of the helo.

"We're fast-roping in, since we aren't going to be taking this chopper out for extraction! I doubt the Field Marshal would want her pretty little helo blown out of the sky for holding around for too long, either! We'll land in the street and advance to the crash site! Once it's secured, we'll radio for extraction!"

"Hey Pitt!" A short black-haired girl chimed in. "What kinda deadheads are we dealing with here!?"

"What?!"

"You know! Are they slow or do they run and jump over shit!?"

"I don't know, Alekhin! Maybe you can ask one when we drop in!"

The few other girls chuckled a bit to themselves. Before long, they were gliding over a wide street. After a few seconds, the MH-60 tilted up to hover in a stationary pattern over an intersection.

"ROPES!" Pitt instructed.

Sommer and Zweig pushed the rope coils off both edges of the helo.

"Hook up! Go go go!"

Ember Hunt
It didn't take long for the five of them to get down onto the asphalt. Once they were spread out along the LZ, the ropes were dropped and the chopper flew off station and out of the airspace. The five-girl squad fell in from their secure positions on Sergeant Pitt.

"Okay," The Sergeant retrieved her personal GPS tracker and began punching buttons. Being the squad leader, she was given special equipment the others didn't get. "We're here. The crash site is just up this street about. If we keep our heads, we should get there no problem."

"Hey Sarn't." The tall black-haired girl of the group, known as Starke, spoke up. "Weren't we supposed to get some backup or is it just us?"

"The Commander of the Task Force said another squad would be retasked to help, but I didn't see anyone else around on our way down. Safe to assume they'll meet up with us at the site. We're only about a klick out so we should be fine. Masks up, third formation."

"Yes, Sergeant." The squad replied in unison.

The squad formed up with Sommer and Starke taking the forward element in the middle of each lane in the two-way road. Zwieg followed behind Starke, and Alekhin behind Sommer, both spread more onto the edges of the road, watching the sides. Pitt followed up in the rear, straight up the center. Each girl was about 5 meters apart, forming a pentagon as they went. Their ears flicked and turned on their heads, as if they were radar dishes trying to detect enemy signals. Their uniform for this OP was their night camo splinter pattern with black, dark grey, and light grey as the color scheme. They were using their HK53SDs and wearing their face mask which covered everything below their eyes. With everything in place, they started their careful trek to the crash site.
Last edited by Monfrox on Tue May 19, 2015 6:23 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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The United Remnants of America
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Founded: Mar 09, 2013
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby The United Remnants of America » Tue May 19, 2015 8:26 pm

3rd Sentinel SOS

Tarzan smiled at the younger Namenian gunner. He was obviously new, since Tarzan hadn't seen him before and he was so... energetic was the closest word he could think of. He waited on replying until the little fit between then Death Korps sniper and NCO had cooled off, then he spoke to the gunner, "If you're talking 'bout the task force, kid, then I've been here since about the beginning. But so's most of my team, and hell, so's most of you're team. We're all kinda veterans in this stuff at this point, I think. But y'know, we're all just normal people. Hell, I go back and get hammered at the end of every operation. We're nothing to be revered or idolized."

Ninja snorted and looked at Tarzan, "Like you'd hate that." Ninja's mask was still up and his X-Com lenses were polarized, so his expression was unreadable. Not like it mattered; Ninja's expression rarely changed as it was.

Tarzan shrugged at his friend and looked back at Ed, "He's just bein' a bit of a bitch 'cuz no little sniper kid wants to look up to him."

While the back of the bus was talking, Jackie made her way back to the front of the bus, leaning with the bumps and and swerves before sliding into a spot beside Vladimir, "So you heard, too." It wasn't a question. Jolly's report had been sent over the entire task force channel.

Koopa replied soon after, "Yeah, we can drop you off, it's no problem. Just let me get through here...." Koopa's voice trailed off as the bus passed by Angel Stadium, readying to cross the Santa Anna River. The curves in the road made Koopa swerve harder as hewent around cars stuck on the bridge. In some areas, cars had breached the guard rail and had fallen into the river. After they'd crossed a river, the went a couple more blocks and took a hard right on North Main Street. "Oh, fuck!" Koopa yelled out as the bus slowed to a stop. It would take a few seconds, but Koopa had seen it first: At Chapman and North Main Street, a pile up had occured, completely blocking off the road. Several military vehicles and emergency vehicles were parked around a well. Parked, or crashed, it didn't really matter.

Jackie looked ahead and sighed. "Well... We were gonna drop the nuke off at the elementary school on the next block... Guess we won't be driving up to the door..." Jackie turned around and looked at the teams on the bus, while also speaking into the mic at her lips to get a hole of not only the Remnants and Namenians on the bus, but also the Congreropians and the Ukrainians, which Jackie had assumed had stuck with following the bus. "Alright, everyone. We've reached a bit of a snag. There's a pileup on the road, so we'll need to disembark and walk from here. The target is about a block further: West Orange Elementary School. That's where we'll be dropping the nuke to time it. It's a central enough location to waste the entire area. So, everybody out and on the road. Let's try to make this quick!" As Koopa opened the door for Jackie for the Remnant captain to step off, she stole a look at Vlad and pursed her lips, "Is this close enough for your men to get off?"

Koopa grumbled as he followed his captain out the bus, "Well, at least I didn't crash. I mean, sure, they were some close calls, but I still think I'm a better driver than-" Koopa stopped talking. Jackie had held up a hand, palm facing him, the internaitonal sign for shut the hell up. Koopa depressed his comm's transmit button twice, asking a question."

Jackie wasn't facing him, but she'd stopped moving and had lifted her rifle up towards the windows in the buildings, she whispered, deathly silent, "Did you hear that...?"

Koopa stopped moving and strained his ears. Soon enough, he started hearing it. A shuffle here, a crunching sound there. Faint footsteps. Koopa raised his R21 AR in a low-ready position and looked around, into the houses along one side of the road. And then he heard it: Faint, but inmistakable moaning.

Jackie spoke low into her mike, even as Irish and Oreo were making there way off the bus, "Everyone. Be quiet. Get ready. They're here."
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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
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