[TheForce.net]
» Jedi Council Forums
» Role Playing
» Non Star Wars Role Playing Forum
Register
|
Login
|
Search
|
Help
|
New Boards
|
Harassment Policy
|
Rules of the JC
|
TOS
|
Markup Codes
Locked Topic
|
Read Only Topic
|
Previous Active Topic
|
Next Active Topic
Pages:
1
|
2
|
3
|
4
|
5
|
6
|
7
|
8
-
Previous
|
Next
|
Reload
Author
Topic:
Halo: TODAY
Deiskrad
Registered:
Sep '04
Date Posted:
10/26/08 10:32am
Subject:
RE: Halo: TODAY
IC: Major Joe Olsen, 1st Tank battalion, 1st Marine Division
The fighting had never materialized. Olsen had expected to have to fight his way back out of the city. He’d assumed that the aliens would envelop his forces by pushing towards the river while he’d pushed towards the landing zones inland. Instead, there was no enemy activity at all. Distantly, he could see the curved purple vessels hanging in the sky, but there were no ground troops, nor any of the avionic fighting vehicles.
Upon reaching the Crescent City Connection, the battalion and its ad hoc infantry support saw that to their even greater surprise, the bridge had not been destroyed by the alien plasma artillery. Though great swathes of steel had been vaporized by the bombardment, and intermittent fires were visible on the road itself, the bridge seemed solid enough to support the battalion as it crossed. Olsen glanced around to make sure no Cyan solenoids were crackling through the air, and the spoke into his radio.
“1st and second platoons,g et up there and across. Take it slow and space out the vehicles. We don’t know how well the bridge will hold.”
The crossing went well for about five minutes. Tank after tank puttered onto the bridge and moved across slowly, jinking left and right to avoid clutches of wrecked vehicles. Then a tremendously unholy crackle emanated form the interior of the city. Olsen squinted against a blinding pastel flash. When the blue streamers faded from his cornea, he saw several of the massive alien shieps unleashing plasma beams onto the city. Concrete, metal, wood, flesh and earth simply vanished as they were transformed to clouds of superheated gasses.
“They’re leveling the city.” He whispered, awed by the power. Then he shook off his wonder and screamed into the microphone. “They’re leveling the city! Everyone across!”
His tank lurched and accelerated on the line. He gesticulated wildly to the other commanders who were standing in the cupolas, watching mesmerized as the plasma beams destroyed a city known worldwide for its beauty. He screamed and waved, trying to get their attention, not knowing if the massive plasma discharges drowned out his radio transmission. The armored column did speed up, and the distances between the vehicles closed. But it was going to be close…
TAG: All
-----signature-----
Sic vis pacem, para bellum.
"hahahahahaha. Is that all you got you Pansies?" -Marv, Sin City, The Hard Goodbye
"An old man dies, a young girl lives. Fair Trade." -Sin City
Locked Topic
|
Active Topic Notification
|
Private Message
|
Post History
Vangarian
Registered:
Mar '03
Date Posted:
10/30/08 11:30pm
Subject:
RE: Halo: TODAY
GM Approved
Name: Todd Stephen Michelson
Age: 40
Branch of service: United States Marine Corps.
MOS: Airborn Recon/(Special Assignment is to Extract Alien Covenent
Technological Artifacts/Weapons/Power Sources/Drive Systems/Defensive
Force fields, for Back Engineering purposes.
Rank: Major
Command: Marine Air Squadron VMM-268.
Weapons: Main FN P90 LIR, Sidearm Para-Ordinance P-14 45 (1911), In Flight Main Dillon M-134D.
Bio: Todd was never one to accept the given explanations of how things were. So he found out for himself. After he joined the Marines, Todd Entered their Officer Training. His unique way of thinking outside of the box earned him both friends and enemies in the Marine Corps. During the days of preparation for the Covinant invasion He managed to get the ear of his superiors on a wild pitch of snatching and grabbing Covinant Technology for back Engineering purposes by using MV-22B Ospreys.
Education: Phd; Electrodynamics, Phd; Mechanical Engineering, Masters;
Combat Strategy and Tactics.
-----signature-----
E/mc=c. Now think about=c for a while if you REALLY INCREASE E!!
Interests: The Moon, Mars, FTL, Field Propulsion, and SW too.
The Copenhagen Interpretation foolishly denies the existance of the Force!
RPG: Blood, guts and fire on Mars and Beyond!
Locked Topic
|
Active Topic Notification
|
Private Message
|
Post History
Sanctimoniously
Registered:
Dec '05
Date Posted:
11/1/08 9:44am
Subject:
RE: Halo: TODAY
Name: Johnathon Kittering
Age: 25
Service: U.S. Navy, attached to a Marine unit.
Military Occupational Specialty (MOS): Expeditionary Intelligence Analyst, NEC 3912
Rank: Intelligence Specialist Second Class (IS2)
Weapons: FN SCAR-L
Bio: Kittering joined the Navy in 2002, figuring that he would make Master Chief within a year and blow some **** up. Six years later, he's on the verge of making first class, finally has three full rows of ribbons, and wears the Expeditionary Warfare pin. He's satisfied with his job because it makes him good money, but, as has been noted throughout his career, he rarely seems to take pride in what he does.
-----signature-----
In For a Quick Garden
http://www.myspace.com/sanctimoniously
Locked Topic
|
Active Topic Notification
|
Private Message
|
Post History
Deiskrad
Registered:
Sep '04
Date Posted:
11/2/08 11:10am
Subject:
RE: Halo: TODAY
IC: Major Joe Olsen, 1st Tank Battalion, outside of New Orleans, headed North.
The dimness of the smouldering city receded behind them. The tank column moved northwest, having doused all lights and running only on night vision. They were headed out of the state on I-10. Every few minutes Olsen attempted to raise somebody. Anybody. All he was met with was the gurgle static, all transmissions still being drowned by the ionized plasma of the enemy.
The column had managed to get over the crescent city connection before the plasma beams had sliced it up. The whole structure tumbling majestically into the river, the great shrieking of rent metal drowned out by the cacophonous, thousand-lightning-bolt roar of the plasma beams carbonizing a city.
Ten miles on, and in relative safety, Olsen had called a halt to the column and ordered his troops into NBC protective suits. He had no idea of the side-effects of that kind of energy. He knew for sure that the carcinogens in the ash were bad. And the ash was falling like grey snow.
So they rode on, and on through a gray-jacketed landscape, wearing thick chemical smocks and masks. The goggles of the masks were constant fogging up and reducing vision. Sweat and grime induced itchiness that could never be fully relieved.
It was when he stood up in the cupola and looked around briefly to get his bearings, that he saw the orange flicker of fire reflected against the sky. The City of New Orleans was gasping its death rattle.
“To any Units of the United States Armed Forces, this is Redtail, I am at grid reference LK960540. In need of any available assistance or orders. Closing on the city of Cornerview. We need refuel soonest. Over.”
Static.
He’d checked his fuel status with his driver. They would be out in 2 hours if they continued at this rate. His other tanks could not be any better off. He dropped back down into turret and sealed up. He felt a pang of sadness for the poor infantry they were carrying. They had little in the way of NBC protection and sat sulkily on the back deck of his tank, wearing their gas masks, slowly getting covered in grey ash.
“Clamshell 1 to all clamshells. We are going to pull off at our first real opportunity and create a roadblock. Assume defensive positions and dig in. We’ll start sleeping rotations as soon as we can. Company Leaders acknowledge.”
They did and Olsen replaced the radio mic. He was hoping that they would be discovered before long. There had still been occasional bands of refugees that they had passed on 1-10. On foot, bicycle or car, they all waved for help. They were all ignored. But at least there were people still streaming north. Hopefully, it meant that there was still some kind of government left that had told them to do so.
He just hoped that that same government would find his battalion before long.
TAG: anybody
-----signature-----
Sic vis pacem, para bellum.
"hahahahahaha. Is that all you got you Pansies?" -Marv, Sin City, The Hard Goodbye
"An old man dies, a young girl lives. Fair Trade." -Sin City
Locked Topic
|
Active Topic Notification
|
Private Message
|
Post History
Littledawg
Registered:
Aug '08
Date Posted:
11/2/08 4:09pm
Subject:
RE: Halo: TODAY
IC- John Walker
John looked around the corner of his cover, the grunts were 'sleeping' he guessed. "Alright everyone,sleepers, take 'em out, nice and quietly." John eyed them all six of them. Out of the one hundred who droped, and the thrity eight who landed in the DZ and the ten who made it into the city. The were tired, sad, desperate and nervous. Slowly the attached silencers to there rifles and began the dirty work.
After the gruesome work looked done a blue stream of plasma streaked passed them. Some one Amongst them screamed "Banshe!!!!!"
"Get back, get back" John shouted and everyone hugged the wall. "We got to get to the HQ, everyone fall back." It tooked them three minutes and one private later to getback to the Church they had made an HQ. The Covenant were outside searhing for them.
"Awww man, what now.' an Lance Corpral asked.
"Now, we wait for dark." John said "After that we leave with the three rifles we captured and the sword."
Dusk settled into night, and six shadows left the church, and fled into the woods.
Tag: Anyone
-----signature-----
Jedi Knight in the New Jedi Trials
Yeah.. now your starting to under stand... Im more than Just your average Jedi.
Long live the Skywalkers
I want more... and I know I shouldn't.
I met Mace Windu in Hollywood
Locked Topic
|
Active Topic Notification
|
Private Message
|
Post History
Vangarian
Registered:
Mar '03
Date Posted:
11/2/08 10:13pm
Subject:
RE: Halo: TODAY
OOC:
Time: Twenty minutes before the bombardment of New Orleans.
IN GAME:
Recently assembled, VMM-268 out of North Carolina enroute to New Orleans by way of Hurlburt Field, home of the 8th Special Operations Squadron:
"Valkry Squadron, we have your ETA in 15. You have large objects converging on New Orleans air space, at 10,000 ft. We are assuming at this time that they may be the big guns coming to finish off the city. If you can pull out any US troops, do so. If there are any items on the Christmas List that are visible and if in your opinion you can pull it off, you are cleared to snatch and grab. We'll advise all US Forces engaged in the city to converge to the beach area to the north at the Southern end of the Lake Ponchartrain causeway bridge. Be advised that DOD has dispatched Air Force's 8th SOS in on the Mission to assist. They'll be spliting the load with you and attacking any hostiles trying to interfere with the evac."
"Roger that, Command. Will advise when we're on site."
Sixteen Marine MV-22Bs armed to the teeth raced past the shore of Gulfport, towards New Orleans to retrieve any and all US Forces in need of rescue that they could. They were trailed by sixteen US Air Force CV-22Bs from 8th SOS Blackbirds. The Blackbirds were like wise armed and five minutes behind the Valkries. Major Todd Stephen Michelson was piloting the lead Valkry.
Todd scanned his instrumentation and altimeter. The altimeter showed 250 feet, while the airspeed was at over 240 mph. Two Marine squads were on board each Osprey fully trained in a hook and lift operation. These were accompanied by two Navy Corpmen for the wounded that were anticipated. Todd was scared of what he might be facing in the event of there being any large number of civilians clustered around the causeway out of New Orleans. He knew his mission and would carry it out, but also knew that if there were non combatants insisting on rescue and evac it could get pretty ugly if they were overwhelmed by their shear numbers. He brushed the thought aside and refocused on the mission. The squadron sped towards land. Todd saw I-10's traffic was bumper to bumper and was stopped. The Gulf of Mexico was left behind and VMM-268 sped on. Todd looked back up to scan the horizon and was shocked to see that the sky held huge ships, which hovered above the cityscape. He could see what appeared to be some kind of shuttles traversing up from New Orleans to the ships. The last of the shuttles merged with its target and the flashing started. Explosions began to erupt to the south of the city's center and began to crawl northward. He spotted the causeway and began adjusting wing angle to verticle and approached the designated landing zone. M1A2s were all over the place, including bunches that were on the causeway heading north at speed. VMM-268 pulled up short. He looked closely and recognized them as Marines.
"Command! VMM-268 has reached north side of New Orleans. There's a large contingent of Marine M1A2s. Please advise who's in command of this Batalian."
Static from the plasma blasts answered his call for information. Michelson switched frequencies.
"This is VMM-268 Major Todd Michelson commanding, on rescue and evac mission. Marine Tankers! Please identify! Are you in need of assist? Have you any wounded in need of evac?"
Tag: Deiskrad, Littledawg
-----signature-----
E/mc=c. Now think about=c for a while if you REALLY INCREASE E!!
Interests: The Moon, Mars, FTL, Field Propulsion, and SW too.
The Copenhagen Interpretation foolishly denies the existance of the Force!
RPG: Blood, guts and fire on Mars and Beyond!
Locked Topic
|
Active Topic Notification
|
Private Message
|
Post History
Deiskrad
Registered:
Sep '04
Date Posted:
11/3/08 4:18pm
Subject:
RE: Halo: TODAY
IC: Major Joe Olsen, 1st marine battalion. Roadblock of I-10
He heard the helicopters long before he heard their ghostly radio transmissions. Distantly, in the grey-flecked black, he saw them hovering about four miles out and a thousand feet up. Olsen had been walking the roadblock, talking with his men and checking up. They were starting to drift into a lesser state of effectiveness due to exhaustion and funk and terror. He heard the choppers and immediately ran to the nearest track and seized the radio.
"VMM-268, this is Callsign Redtail. Good to hear from somebody.
"we've got some damaged tracks and some walking wounded. We are in need of orders, resupply, and ammo, and any word of the enemy's whereabouts. We need Fuel soonest, otherwise we may have to combat-loss the entire unit. Can you get word on any of this? Over."
He clicked back, silently crossing his fingers, awaiting the response.
OOC: Redtail is Olsen's callsign. It should translate to you that it's First Tank battalion.
TAG: Vangarian, anyone
-----signature-----
Sic vis pacem, para bellum.
"hahahahahaha. Is that all you got you Pansies?" -Marv, Sin City, The Hard Goodbye
"An old man dies, a young girl lives. Fair Trade." -Sin City
Locked Topic
|
Active Topic Notification
|
Private Message
|
Post History
Vangarian
Registered:
Mar '03
Date Posted:
11/3/08 7:24pm
Subject:
RE: Halo: TODAY
-
Date Edited:
11/3/08 7:35pm
(2 edits total)
Edited By:
Vangarian
In Game:
"VMM-268, this is Callsign Redtail. Good to hear from somebody. We've got some damaged tracks and some walking wounded. We are in need of orders, resupply, and ammo, and any word of the enemy's whereabouts. We need Fuel soonest, otherwise we may have to combat-loss the entire unit. Can you get word on any of this? Over."
He clicked back, silently crossing his fingers, awaiting the response.
Just then a second group of sixteen Ospreys, this one from 8th SOS approached at speed and switched to vertical and hovered.
"Standby, Redtail. We're both going to roost, fuel being expensive and all. If you can point our Corpmen and PJs in the right direction we'll tend to your wounded"
The two Osprey squadrons situated themselves and landed. The rear gangways of both squadrons lowered as Marines, Navy Corpmen and Air Force PJs trotted down with medical equipment. As they looked for those in need of medical attention it wasn't long before small lines were forming to them.
"Redtail this is Valkry. Sorry for the delay. We're reestablishing contact with command. They're trying to locate your supply line. Since the Cuvvys seem to have pulled out, we're able to start locating other ammo and supply units. If they're too far from you we'll be happy to form a bucket brigade and bring you ammo and fuel. In the mean time we're at your service for medical patch up. One more thing. Has your unit come across any downed cuvvy shuttles or other types of equipment they use? Barring that, do you know of any other units that have come across covinant technology? We're also here to snatch and grab if possible for back engineering."
-----signature-----
E/mc=c. Now think about=c for a while if you REALLY INCREASE E!!
Interests: The Moon, Mars, FTL, Field Propulsion, and SW too.
The Copenhagen Interpretation foolishly denies the existance of the Force!
RPG: Blood, guts and fire on Mars and Beyond!
Locked Topic
|
Active Topic Notification
|
Private Message
|
Post History
Vangarian
Registered:
Mar '03
Date Posted:
11/5/08 5:16pm
Subject:
RE: Halo: TODAY
-
Date Edited:
11/5/08 5:37pm
(1 edits total)
Edited By:
Vangarian
"Redtail. This is Valkry. We've reconnected with command. They have been notified of your situation. For now they've got portions of your supply units located at both New Orleans International Airport and New Orleans Lakefront Airport. We're going to form up two bucket brigades to get you guys fuel asap, followed by ammo, then track. We'll see if we can out perform the Blackbirds with a little friendly competition. Keep the NCs and PJs for now. We'll be back soon."
32 Ospreys fired up their turboshafts and lifted off, seperated into two squadrons of 16 and sped away. One west, the other east.
Tag: Any and all!
-----signature-----
E/mc=c. Now think about=c for a while if you REALLY INCREASE E!!
Interests: The Moon, Mars, FTL, Field Propulsion, and SW too.
The Copenhagen Interpretation foolishly denies the existance of the Force!
RPG: Blood, guts and fire on Mars and Beyond!
Locked Topic
|
Active Topic Notification
|
Private Message
|
Post History
Deiskrad
Registered:
Sep '04
Date Posted:
11/6/08 2:51pm
Subject:
RE: Halo: TODAY
IC: Major Joe Olsen (two minutes prior to Osprey Dustoff)
"Much Obliged Major. Much Obliged." Olsen yelled to him over the din of the 32 helicopters shrieking.
"Wasn't able to recover much. Just some small arms. We... didn't really have any notion of coming out alive. So, we didn't try to gather anything. But some of the infantry have their small-arms and some of their gadgets."
He looked towards his men queuing up for medical help. A collection of bandages and rubbery legs. THey'd all improvised masks out of strips of cloth to keep the ash from getting into their lungs. Olsen wiped the ash away from the goggles on his cowl and continued.
"Most of these guys are just a hodge-podge from a variety of different units. I've got both army and marines, There's also an air force pilot we picked up somewhere. If you can get some of these guys back to their CP's I'd be much obliged. They've been great, but being out here in this ash without NBC gear could put them all in the hospital."
Olsen relaized that in his fatigue he'd forgotten some protocol. he scolded himself and then held out a gloved hand.
"Major Joe Olsen, by the way. 1st tank Battalion." Olsen noticed some of the Ospreys beginning to whine their rotors to a higher pitch, indicating they were preparing for take-off.
"Godspeed Major! And thanks again!"
Olsen saluted and jogged back to his Command track.
Tag: Vangarian
-----signature-----
Sic vis pacem, para bellum.
"hahahahahaha. Is that all you got you Pansies?" -Marv, Sin City, The Hard Goodbye
"An old man dies, a young girl lives. Fair Trade." -Sin City
Locked Topic
|
Active Topic Notification
|
Private Message
|
Post History
Vangarian
Registered:
Mar '03
Date Posted:
11/6/08 7:32pm
Subject:
RE: Halo: TODAY
IC pryer to the Osprey's dustoff:
"Only too happy to be of help. We'll get you guys up and ready for giving the cuvvy's some pay back."
Michelson shook Olsen's offered hand, stepped back saluted him then turned back to his Osprey at a trot. Soon 32 Ospreys lifted off and split up in two groups for an emergency resupply of America's finest.
-----signature-----
E/mc=c. Now think about=c for a while if you REALLY INCREASE E!!
Interests: The Moon, Mars, FTL, Field Propulsion, and SW too.
The Copenhagen Interpretation foolishly denies the existance of the Force!
RPG: Blood, guts and fire on Mars and Beyond!
Locked Topic
|
Active Topic Notification
|
Private Message
|
Post History
Deiskrad
Registered:
Sep '04
Date Posted:
11/16/08 2:15pm
Subject:
RE: Halo: TODAY
-
Date Edited:
11/16/08 3:33pm
(1 edits total)
Edited By:
Deiskrad
IC: Major Joe Olsen, w/ 1st Tank Battalion. North of New Orleans.
The optics would almost certainly have to be replaced. Ash had covered them, and although Olsen had remianed vigilant in making sure the optics, vision blocks, thermal and night sensors remained clear, it was obvious that the gritty ash was taking its toll on the sensitive and complicated equipment. Nonetheless, he leaned out of the cupola and used a handkerchief to brush away the cinders from the vision blocks.
As he did so, he contemplated when the Ospreys would return. Even if they didn't, he hoped that they would get the word out and get his supply and support column routed to him, so that he could top off the fuel tanks and get orders and head to wherever the debriefing or the action was.
His eyes almost crossed with fatigue, he realized that he had almost fallen asleep crouched over the turret, despite the uncomfortable position and the cold. He decided that he'd earned some rest. Already many of the men had been sleeping in shifts, and as their CO he'd remained vigilant. Since there'd been no enemy activity in a while, and because if there was he needed to be lucid; he decided to go over to the Command track and sack out for a while.
"Take over. I'm going to get a half-hours sleep." Olsen said, sliding off the tank and walking towards the command track half a mile away.
The Command Track, a modified M113 personnel carrier, was now basically a grey dusted slab in its primary fighting position among some mangrove trees and other vegetation. The modification was primarily that it was stuffed to the gills with communications equipment. He dropped into the track, barely acknowledging his staff, and sacked out on a stack of ration crates. He was asleep in less than fifteen seconds.
TAG: Anyone, Everyone
-----signature-----
Sic vis pacem, para bellum.
"hahahahahaha. Is that all you got you Pansies?" -Marv, Sin City, The Hard Goodbye
"An old man dies, a young girl lives. Fair Trade." -Sin City
Locked Topic
|
Active Topic Notification
|
Private Message
|
Post History
Vangarian
Registered:
Mar '03
Date Posted:
11/19/08 2:37pm
Subject:
RE: Halo: TODAY
IC as Major Stephon Michelson: (Febuarary 24th 4:23am local time cut to scene with background music Navy Hymm titled 'Eternal Father Strong To Save' from Crimson Tide)
Sixteen Marine MV-22Bs flew on a mission of aid for their own to New Orleans International Airport. New Orleans was a dying inferno that was quickly losing its recognizable features. Valkry Squadron climbed higher to avoid the worst of the ash and soot.
Major Michelson flying by direction from Glass Eye Command and in bound directions from the remaining elements of Marine resupply units and remnents of the Army Corp of Engineers, made final approach to New Orleans International Airport's Military Refueling Area and touched down. Sixteen MV-22B Ospreys kicked up ash as they settled to roost.
"New Orleans International Military Resupply, this is Major Stephon Michelson of VMM-268 Valkry squadron, we're on a rescue and resupply mission for Red Tail. What's your call sign?" miked Michelson.
"Hello Major Michelson of VMM-268 Valkry squadron and welcome to temporary call sign Mother Hen, bellowed a relieved sounding voice over his radio. We're mighty glad to hear something besides static and occasional 'cuvvy' chatter. What can we do for you?"
"Who am I addressing?"
"Master Gunnery sargent Kurt Tyery at your service sir!"
"Well, Gunny it sounds like you got things well in hand," spoke Michelson with a smile growing on his face.
"That we do, sir."
"We're in need of tanker fuel suitable to a whole bunch of thirsty M1A2 'Abrams'. That and Ammo, along with some track too. Think you can whip up some these items in carrier pods for us to ship back to Red Tail?"
"Yes sir that's a big can do, sir!"
"Have you any wounded that need immediate evac?"
"WE have a few bumps and scrapes, but nothing series. We were fortunate to have our underground bunker to dive in when the 2nd. battle of New Orleans was wrapping up."
"Well and good that you did. Do you have any spare ABC protection suitable for combat troops available? We spotted elements of the 82nd Airborne and all they had was gas masks."
"Hold for one, sir. Let me check for spares on that last one."
Ramps were lowering as the Allison turboshafts wound down to idle then stopped. Military fuel trucks approached and began servicing the Ospreys. More trucks pulling flat bed trailers rolled up. Fuel pods, ammo pallets and spare tank track were unloaded by arriving forklifts which squeezed the pods inside the Ospreys cargo holding bays. Major Michelson outside and watching saw as Marines and regular Army troops worked side by side to get the loads in and buckled down. In fifteen minutes the Ospreys were nearly loaded. A Hummer convoy pulled up and a full blow master gunny stepped out walked up to Michelson and saluted. He was taller than Michelson and had a craggy face with a hawkish nose. Topped with short brown hair he made an imposing figure on the scene.
"Sir! We found you a little over 90 ABC suits for those 82nd boys, compliments of Mother Hen"
Stephon smiled then went to full blown grin. "Master Gunnery Sergeant Tyery, you are a gift from God. You're the next best thing to a good cook."
"Not a problem, sir. Any time any where". Tyery took the praise in the spirit it was intended and saluted, then died. A plasma round had pierced his chest from out of Michelson's left. Tyery in his death fell on top of and mostly covered Michelson a last act of protecting a superior officer. Michelson struggled to activate his headset mic as several more rounds were fired his way. "Incoming fire from my left! Any ramp gunners take em out now!"
Three more plasma rounds found a Marine, a Hummer and an ammo pallet left behind on one of the semis. The explosion of the HEAT rounds was deafening. Three Osprey ramp gunners fired their M-134D mini-guns, traced the incoming fire back to its source and saturated two cuvvy recon teams with a hose like stream of 5.56mm rounds. The incoming plasma fire silenced. Michelson crawled out from underneath Tyery's body; rolled him over to check for life signs. Dead. He closed Tyery's eyes for the long sleep. A Marine sergeant junior to Tyery -named Summers- ran up with one of Mother Hen's own Navy Corpman who nealed beside Tyery's body. Summers turned to Michelson and spoke.
"Sir with all due respect, I'd advise you and your squadron to take off and hightail it back to Red Tail Asap. We're going to pull out ourselves and make tracks to meet up with Red Tail. Failing that we'll attempt to make it to Lake Front Airport and make a stand there. On behalf of our combined groups, thank you for making our job easier in resupplying Red Tail's needs."
Summers saluted Michelson. Michelson returned the salute.
"God's speed to you and your men of Mother Hen Sergeant Summers."
Just then, some more Hummers pulled up.
"Hey, who's in charge of the Ospreys?"
"That would be me," spoke Stephon.
"Words out that your looking for cuvvy tech, sir. Thought you'd might like taking this along."
The Army Corperal pulled back a cover from the back of the Hummer. Beneath was a larger version of the plasma rifles used by the Cuvvys. It was in perfect condition too.
"We found it near a cuvvy shuttle we shot down while it was flying overhead before they leveled New Orleans. Brought it down with a stinger. Maybe that's why there's cuvvy activity still around here."
Michelson received the plasma rifle and ABC suits, along with the rest of the supplies and entered his Osprey. The Valkrys lifted off and sped east towards Cornerview City.
"Glass Eye this is Valkry Squadron. Gold nugget. I repeat Gold Nugget."
Valkry Squadron flew on.
-----signature-----
E/mc=c. Now think about=c for a while if you REALLY INCREASE E!!
Interests: The Moon, Mars, FTL, Field Propulsion, and SW too.
The Copenhagen Interpretation foolishly denies the existance of the Force!
RPG: Blood, guts and fire on Mars and Beyond!
Locked Topic
|
Active Topic Notification
|
Private Message
|
Post History
Vangarian
Registered:
Mar '03
Date Posted:
11/19/08 7:02pm
Subject:
RE: Halo: TODAY
OOC: Oops, sorry about that.
Tag: Deiskrad, anyone/everyone.
-----signature-----
E/mc=c. Now think about=c for a while if you REALLY INCREASE E!!
Interests: The Moon, Mars, FTL, Field Propulsion, and SW too.
The Copenhagen Interpretation foolishly denies the existance of the Force!
RPG: Blood, guts and fire on Mars and Beyond!
Locked Topic
|
Active Topic Notification
|
Private Message
|
Post History
Deiskrad
Registered:
Sep '04
Date Posted:
11/22/08 8:43am
Subject:
RE: Halo: TODAY
IC: Major Joe Olsen
It felt like a blink. It was probably actually a little more than an hour of sleep, but it felt like no more than a blink. He rose suddenly when the Signals officer in the command track roused him. He thought it was an eney alert.
"Sir, take it easy. We've just got word that our birdie friends were having trouble finding us, They should be here shortly."
Summoning willpower over fatigue, Olsen arched himself off the ration boxes.The aches would be with him for some time, His back in particular did not respond well to the unyielding nature of the crates.
"Repeat our grid reference and inform them that we'll send up flares and red smoke the LZ."
"I've already done so, sir. Just wanted to wake you in case you needed to meet with the squadron commander."
Olsen nodded. This was a conscientious junior officer. Wet behind the ears but independent and competent. He'd probably do well.
If he stayed alive.
"ETA?"
"Five."
Olsen lifted himself into a standing position, and popped the hatch on the command track's fighting compartment. The february cold invested the command track, and the soot immediately dusted the interior. Olsen puleld himself out and shut it behind him, beginning the trek to the LZ. As he got there, he could hear the stuttering of Helicopter blades as helicopters circled nearby. One of his troops popped a red smoke grenade, while another launched a flare. The Choppers began to descend, and Olsen allowed a little bit of relief to trickle into his system.
TAG: Vangarian, others
-----signature-----
Sic vis pacem, para bellum.
"hahahahahaha. Is that all you got you Pansies?" -Marv, Sin City, The Hard Goodbye
"An old man dies, a young girl lives. Fair Trade." -Sin City
Locked Topic
|
Active Topic Notification
|
Private Message
|
Post History
Pages:
1
|
2
|
3
|
4
|
5
|
6
|
7
|
8
-
Previous
|
Next
|
Reload
[TheForce.net]
» Jedi Council Forums
» Role Playing
» Non Star Wars Role Playing Forum
© 2009 IGN Entertainment, Inc (9.02.17.2300, IGNPRDAPPW64212) 0.375