Topic: The Global War of Malice: In the jungle, the mighty jungle... (Read 25359 times)

Patrick Hunt · « **Reply #330 on:** December 08, 2013, 06:33:27 pm »

" If you didn't bring it you ain't gonna find it here. Your best bet will either be the hospital or military base in the town once we reach it. "

Aseaheru · « **Reply #331 on:** December 08, 2013, 07:30:29 pm »

"And you think there is either? The reason I dod not bring one was because someone decided to ingnore my requests."

Patrick Hunt · « **Reply #332 on:** December 08, 2013, 07:53:55 pm »

" Of course, it's a town it must have a hospital which means surgical equipment and given it's importance it will have a significant defense force as well which means a base and a base always has a military medical center.

I'm sure you can find something once we arrive."

Aseaheru · « **Reply #333 on:** December 08, 2013, 08:08:55 pm »

"One, not every sodding town has a sodding hospital. Two, most bases have tiny fucking medbays and ship out everyfucking one to a military hospital. Three, what makes you think that the local populace will have four hundred-odd pounds of assorted combat medical supplies?"

Patrick Hunt · « **Reply #334 on:** December 08, 2013, 08:11:02 pm »

" Because it's what we need, what good is it doing you to dwell on what you don't have and worry that you might not find it?

I have faith that we will find what we need to do the job, if we need a surgical kit then we will find one. Doubts have no place on a battlefield. "

Rolepgeek · « **Reply #335 on:** December 08, 2013, 08:15:31 pm »

"Will both of you fucking nancies fucking shut it? No one will have a goddamn surgery kit, Edgar. And Harvey, concentrate on the fucking mission and staying the fuck alive, since that's what you always seem to go on about. I can't fly this thing worth shit when you schoolgirls are yakking."

Patrick Hunt · « **Reply #336 on:** December 08, 2013, 08:41:35 pm »

" I never lose focus, get us on the ground and remember of an entire unit of elite soldiers I'm the only one who lived when we were sent behind enemy lines.

Don't worry about me I'll get the job done if I have to carry you on my back the entire time to do it, failure is not an option it would violate my orders. "

Rolepgeek · « **Reply #337 on:** December 08, 2013, 08:43:06 pm »

"Not very elite then, were you? And like I said, stop your yapping. Jeezus christ."

Aseaheru · « **Reply #338 on:** December 08, 2013, 08:44:26 pm »

"Exactly." Edgar continues looking around for medical gear.

GiglameshDespair · « **Reply #339 on:** December 08, 2013, 08:52:20 pm »

Ignoring her teammates, Kinson moved her mouth close to Lydia's ear. "Not injured, are you?" She spoke quietly enough to be heard but not add to the general cacophony. She adjusted her grip to a firmer, more comfortable one, the other hand gripping the handle above her head.

Patrick Hunt · « **Reply #340 on:** December 08, 2013, 09:02:19 pm »

Harvey shurgs after a moment pulling the chain of bloody dog tags from under his shirt to rest on his chest.

" That may be true, 31 of us went in and over 15 years killed more soldiers and did more damage to the enemies war machine then has been done in entire wars in the past but only I survived.

I'm sure we weren't elite, we were given a job that was the definition of insanity and told we were the agent elite and we carried it out. We were just stupid enough to believe that we could do the impossible and just resoloute enough to carry it through to the end.
Elite? No we were just human beings with an impossible job to do and no option but to do it.

Elite? You can keep that title for yourselves, we were human beings and we made the gods themselves sit up and take notice of us and when I die nobody will ever remember what happened or what we did to protect this country. Nobody will remember the price we paid and the sacrifices we made to make sure you would all have a future.

Now it's time for you all to show me if it was worth the cost my friends paid, if it was worth the lives of my family."

(( Little over the top maybe but hey, it's the most fitting way for him to start coming out of his shell and showing why he has so much dislike for you all. ))

Rolepgeek · « **Reply #341 on:** December 08, 2013, 10:25:49 pm »

((He always makes ridiculous over the top speeches when there is no time for them. THat's what I was trying to get at. You're making speeches, and overall this has been like 5 minutes of conversation in 30 seconds of IG time. Don't abuse Talking Is A Free Action.))

Patrick Hunt · « **Reply #342 on:** December 08, 2013, 10:27:29 pm »

(( Meh I should think we're gonna be stuck riding this out for a fair few minutes, it should fit. ))

Elfeater · « **Reply #343 on:** December 08, 2013, 10:46:54 pm »

Henry glances around, "Buckle down damn it! Stop gabbing and get in a fucking chair."

PrivateNomad · « **Reply #344 on:** December 14, 2013, 12:30:08 pm »

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Report

Kinson's head slammed against thehard steel of the aircraft's frame.
"Gargh!"
Quickly, she slid from her seat. She hooked an arm around Lydia and pulled her onto her lap back onto the seat, bracing her so she wouldn't bounce around. Lydia lets out a cough as Kinson and her rest upon a wall.
"Ugh... Thanks.." Lydia murmurs as she adjusts her glasses.

Henry frowns and buckles into his seat, checking his equipment he states, "Nothing we can do till w eland, get ready from some tough shit."

"Say what?" Edgar looks around wildly, eyes wide. "Sir, wheres the chutes? And for that matter where is the medical supplies?"
General Mortimer grunts, looking around the ship.
"Good thinking. Go get the 'chutes and medical supplies ready. Supplies are in that crate--" He points to a nearby wood crate set on the metal wall. "-- And the chutes are hanging on that wall." He says, pointing to a wall with backpacks hung onto it.
Edgar quickly rushes to gather the needed supplies. He lays them out on the floor and readies himself with a backpack and medical equipment.

"Battle Stations? We've never been over this procedure! Does this aircraft have static machineguns that fold out or something?" Vetra says as she readies her equipment.
--
Harvey stands calmly having long since become used to situations going to hell in an instant and adjusts his hood and half mask to ensure his face is concealed before putting on his HUD glasses and clicking on his comm link.
"Sitrep pilot, how many enemies and can you get us onto the ground in one piece? How far out from the mine are we?"
"Ground missles are homing in onto the ship -- Target seeking missiles. Flares are ineffective. 3 are approaching the ship right now at 3 o'clock! Lowering ship to ground, engaging VTOL." The pilot reports as the jet engines of the ship rotate to a VTOL functioning position.

Looking at the rest of the group he sighs inwardly for a moment before speaking.
"Be calm all of you, panic is a warriors enemy, panic gets you killed. Are you warriors or pups?
He then calmly clicked off the safety on his P90 and slid an AP mag into it before giving Kinson a slight nod of respect for remaining calm.

"We're being hit with rockets thousands of feet away, and your first move is to load your SMG. Great. I know you're all jaded and think you'll never die in this situation, but some of us don't have long-range capabilities, alright? If you have such great knowledge of the Art of War, maybe you could tell me what the hell I'm supposed to do?" Vetra says sharply, looking at Harvey.

Harvey looks at her for a moment his posture showing his clear disappointment before responding.
" Your choice are simple, panic like the pup I think you are, or prove me wrong and prepare to honor that uniform. What happens to your brothers and sisters in arms if you panic on them before we even begin the assignment?
The choice is a simple one, I choose to honor those who died before me not to disgrace there memory. If I'm to die here then I'll die on my feet as a warrior.
I can't use my weapons here if I opened a door it'd kill us all but I can make sure when we land I'm prepared for battle the instant the doors open because our enemy knows we're coming now, I can't control whether I survive to that point but I can make sure if I reach it I'm ready to die honoring those who went before me and to send many enemies ahead of me to warn the Almighty that I'll be coming for him next.

So, are you a soldier? Or are you a Pup? "" He speaks to Vetra.

"Fuckin'-there's all this bullshit. Rocket-propelled grenade-ass bullshit. Alright, fine. We get ready then."
Vetra stands up, holding her flamethrower.
"Call me a Pup, at least I ain't a fatalist." She says.

"Better, I'm not a fatalist I've simply decided to honor the fallen who went before me with my actions, to panic would be to dishonor them. Would you rather the last memory your friends and family have of you is that you die as a hero or you died as a coward?"
"You need to verbally shut up. Please, I get it. We're out here to fight some other people, okay? And if you want to know, I don't have no motherfucking family, and my friends are all with me in this, somewhere. I don't care about morality or courage or any of that, I'm here for them and for me." Vetra bites back, grasping her flamethrower.
Harvey shrugs absently.

" As long as you've remembered why your here the reason itself doesn't matter. You just needed to be reminded of it to snap you out of the shock from the sudden attack, it happens to the best of us sooner or later. "

"Right. Right. Fair enough. Yeah. We're all on this mission together. We cool everyone?" Vetra says.

Harvey and Edgar begin to bicker about medical supplies and the mining town.

"Will both of you fucking nancies fucking shut it? No one will have a goddamn surgery kit, Edgar. And Harvey, concentrate on the fucking mission and staying the fuck alive, since that's what you always seem to go on about." Denia barks towards the two arguing.

" I never lose focus, get us on the ground and remember of an entire unit of elite soldiers I'm the only one who lived when we were sent behind enemy lines. Don't worry about me I'll get the job done if I have to carry you on my back the entire time to do it, failure is not an option it would violate my orders. " Bekter says.

Denia scrambles for her armor, nearly dropping the drone she was holding. Fixing the wires back into place and slapping the cover back on, she lets it drop and stumbles into her armor. Standing in it, she makes fists with her hands resting in the gloves of the suit. Lights blink on inside the suit, and the plates begin to close and lock around her while the outside of the suit shifts through a series of colors before settling back into it's typical coloring, but with the emblem of the Celerian Military on various places, as well as a display of Denia's rank and medals. The outer-most layer of the suit was made of nanobots, and changing color was no difficulty for them, especially when directly connected to their controlling computer.

The now-heavily armored woman stepped off the rack and grinned inside her suit, the clear visor revealing only the crinkling of her eyes as she did so. She picked up the drone and slid open the rear-most door, tossing it out before closing the door quickly again, pulling up her S15 in the other hand and taking control of the ALR.
"Not very elite then, were you? And like I said, stop your yapping. Jeezus christ." She says in an electronic-like voice.

Harvey shurgs after a moment pulling the chain of bloody dog tags from under his shirt to rest on his chest.

" That may be true, 31 of us went in and over 15 years killed more soldiers and did more damage to the enemies war machine then has been done in entire wars in the past but only I survived.
I'm sure we weren't elite, we were given a job that was the definition of insanity and told we were the agent elite and we carried it out. We were just stupid enough to believe that we could do the impossible and just resoloute enough to carry it through to the end.
Elite? No we were just human beings with an impossible job to do and no option but to do it.

Elite? You can keep that title for yourselves, we were human beings and we made the gods themselves sit up and take notice of us and when I die nobody will ever remember what happened or what we did to protect this country. Nobody will remember the price we paid and the sacrifices we made to make sure you would all have a future.
Now it's time for you all to show me if it was worth the cost my friends paid, if it was worth the lives of my family."
Harvey speaks.

Henry glances around, "Buckle down damn it! Stop gabbing and get in a fucking chair."

Ignoring her teammates, Kinson moved her mouth close to Lydia's ear.
"Not injured, are you?" She spoke quietly enough to be heard but not add to the general cacophony. She adjusted her grip to a firmer, more comfortable one, the other hand gripping the handle above her head.
"Yeah... Just a scratch." Lydia says as she looks to the rest of the ship.
"Listen, SA Kinson." She says, gaining the undivided attention of Kinson.
"There are a pair of bionic legs inside the front of the ship, in the ship's storage area. Go fetch them for me." She says, pointing to a metal door in the back of the room.

===
General Mortimer stands up straight on a chair and yells out for everyone's attention.
"ALRIGHT LADIES, NOW THAT YOUR ALL DONE WITH YOUR GOD DAMN BICKERING, LET'S GET SOME FUCKING SHIT DONE!" He barks out.
"HARVEY! STOP YAPPING AND DO US ALL A FAVOR AND FUCKING RADIO THE AIR STATION!" He yells out as he looks towards Harvey.
"DENIA! CONTINUE TO FLY THAT DRONE AND SCOUT OUT THE MISSLES! DESTROY THE TARGET!"

"VETRA! GO MAN THE MACHINE TURRET ON THE SIDE WING BAY!" He yells out as he points to a door to his left.
"NOW GET TO FUCKING WORK!" Mortimer shouts out in his drill sergeant voice.

Everyone starts to scramble around the ship, and begins a counter-assault against the missiles.

"ATTENTION! 100 KILOMETERS ABOVE GROUND! BRACE FOR LANDING IN 10 MINUTES! 3 MISSLES HEADING AT OUR 3', IMPACT ETA IS 2 MINUTES!" The pilot reports over the ship's intercom, trying to find an adequate spot for landing.

♦Squad♦

Spoiler: ◄General James Mortimer► (30) (Lvl. 5) (click to show/hide)