BattleTech - The Board Game of Armored Combat
BattleTech Player Boards => Fan Fiction => Topic started by: Centurion03 on 04 June 2011, 11:43:29
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I have been mulling about this for a few days now.
Imagine for a moment that one day NASA / ESA / FKA detect a sudden burst of radiation and electro-magnetic readings from a distant Lagrangian point in our Solar System.
Weeks later a strange object enters Earth's atmosphere and crashes in Antarctica. An international team is assembled to investigate the crash site. After finding the strange ovoid object, the team finally manages to open it and enter. Inside they find only corpses. The crew are all dead from exposure and wounds from what can only be assumed to be weapons.
The large craft is full of strange 12 meter tall bipedal machines, eerily familiar infantry weapons and vehicles that defy conventional logic.
Yet, what concerns the team most is what is found in the assumed Captain's Quarters, the electronic log dating to 3072, and a warning. Beware the Master and his Shadows.
There exist a few AU's, but not one about what would happen if a BattleTech met humankind TODAY. What would a M1 Abrams look like retrofitted with a Light AC/5.
How would an indigenous BattleMech design look like we built today?
And lastly, would we survive an invasion of WoB Division?
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tell the terrorists that the WoBs were called in to annihilate them, then sit back and watch the fun.
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Well.........if the world's nations don't all fight each other over the "new tech" and the culture shock ... it would be different I guess :-\ .
Dave.
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You've read this: The Virginia war (http://www.classicbattletech.com/forums/index.php/topic,463.0.html) ?
"Harmony Gold can SUCK IT!" [rockon]
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You've read this: The Virginia war (http://www.classicbattletech.com/forums/index.php/topic,463.0.html) ?
Ah, thats it. The Virgnia War incorporates quite a few different universes into one.
Its a good story.
But I have something else in mind. How would us 21st Century humans handle an invasion by forces of the Word of Blake, or any Inner Sphere power for that matter. We may have some warning, and some time to adapt our weapons and tactics.
Would this make a good FanFic?
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It would make a good read, though the attacking force would have to be careful as they would be doing damage that would destroy their own time line (?), go for it.
Dave.
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Go for it Centurion!
Sounds like a great idea, especially considering the gross disparity in electronics. While a mech would open an HRA or Chobham armored tank like a can of tuna, modern day electronics are far superior to those used in the BT universe.
BT has 50-500m ranges with most of their weapons beyond blue light specials, super zipped tungsten, and LRM. None of the BT weapons can reach out and touch someone beyond 1.4km.
In our modern world you're hard pressed to find any tanks, even modernized T-54/55 and their Chinese derivatives can hit targets out to 3 or 4 klicks with their main guns AND their coax. Then there's arty, which is effectively unknown in BT, and those are just the highlights.
Be interesting to refit bipedal warmachines with proper electronics, CWIS, and decent MGs.
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Think suicide bombers wearing satchel charges climbing up the mechs......
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Ah, thats it. The Virginia War incorporates quite a few different universes into one.
Its a good story.
But I have something else in mind. How would us 21st Century humans handle an invasion by forces of the Word of Blake, or any Inner Sphere power for that matter. We may have some warning, and some time to adapt our weapons and tactics.
Would this make a good FanFic?
Like any fan-fic, I’d have to say that depends on the execution. :-\ There’s at least one other ongoing story on more-or-less that very subject right now: An Entry with a Bang!, the BT Round-Robin over on spacebattles.com which originally inspired me to start The Virginia War - Meeting Engagement. That one drops Earth (or the Tom Clancy version thereof) into the Periphery eight jumps from Antallos in the late ’50s, and C-Earth doesn't get the memo until fifty years later (c.2005/3020), when a band of pirates drops by and tries their luck. The actual full-scale pirate invasion which ensued... did not go well for them. }:)
It’s a decent-enough read; unfortunately, actual progress has been slowed by technical discussions and a lot of wrangling. [metalhealth]
An Entry with a Bang! sub-forum at SB.com. (http://forums.spacebattles.com/forumdisplay.php?s=&f=55&page=1&pp=25&sort=lastpost&order=desc&daysprune=-1)
aEwaB story-only thread. (http://forums.spacebattles.com/showthread.php?t=150127)
And for what it’s worth, it’s not much of a spoiler to tell you that Meeting Engagement is going to see a full-scale (by BT standards) invasion of Earth and fighting across a lot of its surface within a couple of in-universe months. (It’s only a double crossover, BTW, nBSG with BT with the Jack Ryan universe; other ‘crossover’ elements like the Gundam SEED expies are imported mainly as a shorthand to tell the readers about characters without having to resort to half-page descriptions. ::) )
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though the attacking force would have to be careful as they would be doing damage that would destroy their own time line
Depends on the time travel theory in use, solid timeline or splitting branches.
As its well known that RL physics and BT physics aren't exactly the same, Trace' alternate universe variant is the most likely anyway...
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I think I am going to take the lazy approach, and go with something along the lines of it just happened.
Earth is going to be a separate, yet eerily similar world to Terra.
Something to be dealt with later, if at all.
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To answer that! "Write it and they will comment!"
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Long ago, in the early 90s I picked up a fanzine for battletech. It had a color cover and was an anthology issue of this particular fanzine series. In the first page it had a scenario write up of a dropship (i don't remember if they were pirates, or what) dropping in on late 1980s Western Europe. The story included a character discussing SAMs hitting the dropship. The scenario gave force listings which included Leopard IIs for the NATO forces. It, however, didn't give any stats. The magazine also had an article on powered armor very similar to protomechs and 31st century classifieds.
Anyways, I think such a story would go over well, I would likely read it. In fact as a similar idea, I've often thought of pirates raiding a periphery realm that was at WW2 technology levels. Think Turtledove's In the Balance series.
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Long ago, in the early 90s I picked up a fanzine for battletech. It had a color cover and was an anthology issue of this particular fanzine series. In the first page it had a scenario write up of a dropship (i don't remember if they were pirates, or what) dropping in on late 1980s Western Europe. The story included a character discussing SAMs hitting the dropship. The scenario gave force listings which included Leopard IIs for the NATO forces. It, however, didn't give any stats. The magazine also had an article on powered armor very similar to protomechs and 31st century classifieds.
Anyways, I think such a story would go over well, I would likely read it. In fact as a similar idea, I've often thought of pirates raiding a periphery realm that was at WW2 technology levels. Think Turtledove's In the Balance series.
That fanzine was Future Wars, IIRC, and I seem to also remember that it was a Best of Future Wars issue at that. There was a lot of fun stuff in that issue, but I'm like you in that the pirate invasion of 1988-era Western Europe is what stuck with me. There were, however, stats for the Leopard II listed, sort of, in that they fluffed it as being basically a Vedette. Not realistic, but it was there.
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That's it, sir! My apologies on the faulty memory. I have a regular issue of Future Wars in my collection and meh...
Let us see some writing!
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Chapter 1
It's the end of the world as we know it and I feel fine.
June 6, 2010
Earth
Glenn Research Center, Ohio
James Brookes lined up the perfect putt, his putter meticulously aligned with the golf ball. The angles had been calculated by him over a period of hours, all down to a millimeter. He struck the ball at just the right velocity, the ball rolled forward, ricocheted off of the chair leg, hit the coke can, rolled round the corner, the calculator then guided it towards the coffee mug lying on its side...
And the golf ball missed.
James tutted to himself, he knew he should have adjusted the coke can a bit more. It had felt like it was a bit too far from the corner. As he sat down at his terminal, he couldn't help but think how he always managed to get the late night shifts monitoring the SOHO satellite. Not only was it boring, but nothing ever happened. What passed for excitement was the occasional request to change the angle of some or other lens on the aging satellite.
James scribbled over his calculations in his notebook, and started from the beginning. Before he could become to engrossed the computer in front of him started beeping, looking up James was about to curse the ancient satellite again for failing to maintain the proper alignment for the hundredth time, but as he started to program the course adjustment, he stopped. Not only was one of the peripheral sensors off of target, but it was failing now.
"Piece of shi..." James never finished when noticed that three other peripheral sensors had detected anomalies in the same part of space. The UV, infrared and visible light sensors had all picked up readings form below the sun. Far below the sun.
Curiosity overwhelmed him as he accessed the sensor logs, the sensors weren't malfunctioning at all, they had detected valid emissions. As the sensor data loaded on his screen James' mouth virtually dislocated itself from his jaw. Reaching for his phone he dialed his supervisor, by this time he had completely forgotten that it was 03h00 in the morning. After a few rings his supervisor answered: "James, if you are stoned again I swear to God I am going to dock this month's wages from you" all that answered the supervisor was silence "James? This isn't funny, just like it wasn't funny when you did this three weeks ago."
All that James could think of saying at that stage was "I think ET just found us..."
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June 7, 2010
The White House, Washington DC
Charles Boden cleared his throat as he stood to brief the President of the United States of America. He could feel the weight of the situation on his shoulders, what he was about to say could change the course of Human History. Walking to the large LCD screen he couldn't help but notice as those clustered around the large table in the briefing room turned towards him. He cleared his throat again.
Using the pointer he activated the LCD, and brought up the first image showing a distant picture of the sun.
"Mr President, less than 24 hours ago, the NASA SOHO satellite detected anomalous readings below the sun. At first this was attributed to be a glitch in the satellites primary sensor systems. However, our technician that was monitoring the satellite examined the raw sensor data and found this..." Bolden turned to the screen and brought up the next picture, the room suddenly filled with restless noise as it became apparent what was on the screen.
The picture showed a needle-like structure, with a bulbous front section and a regular bulges around the body.
"What you are seeing is undoubtedly a non-natural construct." Bolden couldn't help but stutter out his last few words. Chaos erupted in the room as people were throwing questions and accusations at the NASA Administrator.
President Obama stood quietly and slammed his hands on the desk. Quiet returned before he started talking "Mr Bolden, what do you mean non-natural construct? What are we looking at?"
The NASA man's eyes bulged slightly "Mr President, by non-natural construct I mean, something, somewhere built what you are seeing in this picture. Its the first confirmed sign that we are not alone in the universe."
President Obama looked at the man with a hint of disbelief evident on his face. "Mr Bolden, how do we know that this isn't simply a piece of space debris? That to me, looks to be something that could easily have come off of the ISS or even MIR."
Bolden took a few shallow breaths "Mr President, the size of the construct significantly dwarfs anything we have even built, our estimates put it at about 500 meters Sir" the Cabinet members in the room started murmuring again. Bolden clicked to the next photo, one which despite being as blurry as the previous one was considerably zoomed in. "Sir, we also saw this happen, one of the bulges along the main body of the construct visibly detached. And started accelerating towards earth."
Chaos erupted in the room.
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June 8, 2010
Brussels, Belgium.
NATO Headquarters
Admiral Michael Mullen sat down with a heavy sigh. He could still see the expressions of disbelief on the faces of his fellow admirals and generals that he knew was reflected on his own. His British counter-part looked up from his briefing package "So, you are essentially telling me that ****ing ET is about to land on our planet... And we want to sit back and let it happen?" Their mutual French ally shook his head and uttered a few choice words in his own language. The Belgium general seemed in agreement with the French sentiments.
Mullen leaned forward "Sir David, I don't like the idea myself, but as a few of my subordinates, and the science geeks at NASA pointed out, do we really want to antagonise what could be a very advanced civilization before we know what they want."
The Brit seemed to take the matter to heart "I can understand that Admiral, yet, I should point out, if these ET buggers are hostile, I don't want them to catch us with our proverbial pants around our ankles." There were more than a few guffaws and snickers at the old man's metaphor.
General Harald Sunde from Norway spoke up "Lets then ensure that our respective Armed Forces are at a heightened level or readiness, we know our astute political leaders have agreed to keep the events of the past two days from the public, so we spin it by saying NATO is preparing for exercises." This had more than a few of the various generals and admirals nodding in agreement.
Admiral Édouard Guillaud got up and poured himself some coffee before turning back to the group "Do we have any idea where this craft is going to make landfall? We could see mass panic if it lands in Paris or New York."
Mullen suddenly seemed uncomfortable, "Our projections have the craft traveling at a constant 1G of acceleration, and with its current course and speed, NORAD calculates that it will put down somewhere in Antarctica." The entire room quietened down, each soldier showing their distaste over the perceived neutrality issues that would arise from this. Mullen continued "President Obama will be bringing this up in the UN Security Council in two hours, but he thinks we should involve the South Africans and Argentinians as they are the closest countries..." He trailed off as each of his compatriots seemed to grow more sour.
It was Sir David was the first to speak up "The South Africans, I can maybe agree to, but the bloody Argies, not on my life. Those bastards are still agitating for the Falklands..."
Mullen took the time to let him finish "Sir David, that decision lies with our Commanders-in-Chief, we have to decide how we are going to handle the situation on the ground, how we are going to respond to any situation that may occur." Mullen could see that Sir David's cheeks were reddened, whether or not it was because of the shame or anger he couldn't say.
Admiral Guillaud attempted to hide a snicker at the expense of his British ally "Perhaps we should take a break and firstly see how our Commanders decide to handle the public side, before we decide how to best prepare for any eventualities." There was a general acknowledgment of agreement as the top brass for all of NATO started to file out.
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I like the idea of this.
I've thought about it a few times a miss jump of a Starlord or Monolith into modern times and the stories that carry on from it the problem I keep finding is.
Once someone sees a Mech even if its painted up as USA or NATO or whatever, once they see its capabilities whats to stop them pressing the red button and being done with it?
12 metre tall BattleMechs of destruction would lay waste to all modern tech, same with aerospace fighters and more than likely Battle Armour would be almost impossible to fight conventionally in modern terms. From there it goes to the next approachable level carpet bombing, firebombing, MOABs and even then Mechs could probably weather a lot of fire before going down - too much for most country's to take.
Earth is a small planet having Mechs limited to one planet full of conventional vehicles and PBIs would be nasty and probably lead to one thing - someone with a god complex (My Mechs are unstoppable) - others get annoyed at this leading to world war - a nuclear one.
Just my thoughts and ramblings I'll watch with interest this looks good so far.
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Thats why I planning on having an external threat unite the Earth. This Earth isn't in the past
or even future or something like that.
Its a planet identical to Terra, that somehow evolved almost identically to Terra. The story is
taking place in 3073.
Fun times ahead.
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Good story so far. Please don't fall into that silly view where ALL BT tech curbstomps 2012 modern day Terran tech.
Yes BT armor is superior, yes they have energy weapons and Terra doesn't, yes they have big honking space ships and Terra don't, but that's all they've got.
Modern Terra has a huge advantage in the performance of their electronics, ballistic weapon ranges and accuracy, superb artillery, and heap tons of over the horizon weapons like cruise missiles. In fact the South Africans have some of the best mobile artillery out there right now.
Plus Terra has plenty of experience dealing with cultist wackjobs :D
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False.
Good story so far. Please don't fall into that silly view where ALL BT tech curbstomps 2012 modern day Terran tech.
Yes BT armor is superior, yes they have energy weapons and Terra doesn't, yes they have big honking space ships and Terra don't, but that's all they've got.
Modern Terra has a huge advantage in the performance of their electronics, ballistic weapon ranges and accuracy, superb artillery, and heap tons of over the horizon weapons like cruise missiles. In fact the South Africans have some of the best mobile artillery out there right now.
Plus Terra has plenty of experience dealing with cultist wackjobs :D
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June 10, 2010
Somewhere in Antarctica
Third Squad, 4th Reconnaissance Commando
The Recce team moved forward slowly in the howling winds and blistering cold of the frozen Antarctic, the Staff-Sergeant looked back to see his men walked in an extended column, even with the cold each of the operators kept scanning the horizon. He smiled into his parka, before turning to continue the slog.
The mission had him worried, he knew that there were at least another sixteen similar teams deployed from a few of the world's best special forces, each moving to a certain point to engage in surveillance operations. Jan Taylor had been a Recce for eight years, and whilst he had never actually been deployed to a live warzone for anything more than peace-keeping, he knew you didn't deploy more than a hundred of the worlds best trained killers to simply see who could survey snow the best.
Something was up, but for the life of him, he couldn't guess what could possibly happen in Antarctica that would need him and his men to have full NBC gear packed in their packs.
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June 11, 2010
Jan looked over the vast, desolate expanse of the ice in front of him. His team had dug deep into the snow to give them some shelter from the constant wind, which despite their thick parkas seemed to cut through them to the bone. The near-constant darkness had begun to irritate him, and he could hear his team try to keep themselves warm and busy. But he knew you could only take apart and clean your weapon so many times before that too started to become an irritation.
Despite repeatedly asking his superiors what they were supposed to be doing, or even looking for, he had just been told to keep watching their assigned sector. Jan snorted, even the bloody animals knew that there was nothing to do, and slept out the cold winter.
As Jan was about to get up to go down into the buried igloo, he heard a distant clap of thunder from behind his position. Corporal Willem Buys looked up at Jan with a question in this expression. Turning round to the sound Jan swore he could see a distant comet. Before he could look away he noticed that it was growing. "Lads" he called down to his men, silence answered him, but he knew they were awaiting his next command "Get ready, something is happening."
And something did happen. The comet-like object kept growing and growing, and so did the noise that followed it. Jan thought the wind was bad, the sound from the object was terrible. A screaming sound reverberated throughout his entire body. As the object passed straight over their position Jan had completely forgotten to take cover, it was less than a kilometer above them if Jan had to guess, but what had his complete attention was the large 03 painted on the side, and the misshapen star painted on the side.
The ovoid object continued on its path before it crashed without grace into a distant hill. He felt the pressure wave from the crash slam into him.
Looking back to his men, Jan couldn't help but notice that they now stood next to him, all looking at the distant crash.
"Lads, I think we know why we are here now... Get the NBC gear ready, I'm calling this in"
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Geez I feel like killing my attempt at creating a good story for others! Kudoes and do not stop the story!
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(It’s only a double crossover, BTW, nBSG with BT with the Jack Ryan universe; other ‘crossover’ elements like the Gundam SEED expies are imported mainly as a shorthand to tell the readers about characters without having to resort to half-page descriptions. ::) )
any more coming?
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any more coming?
"Real Soon NowTM", which could mean days or weeks depending on how bad RL gets. :'( I am trying, but I don't have much writing-time at the moment and side-issues like building the background details (and trying to repost the FotW columns still outstanding) don't help matters. Hopefully, my schedule will ease soon. :-\
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"Real Soon NowTM", which could mean days or weeks depending on how bad RL gets. :'( I am trying, but I don't have much writing-time at the moment and side-issues like building the background details (and trying to repost the FotW columns still outstanding) don't help matters. Hopefully, my schedule will ease soon. :-\
I understand that! I have 304 pages hand written of DoH, 426 hand written of a non battletecg story! Then there is me, trying to earn extra $ so I can enjoy living!
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June 10, 2010
Somewhere in Antarctica
Third Squad, 4th Reconnaissance Commando
A hour later
As Jan ran forward to take cover behind an outcropping of ice, he made sure to cover the crash wreckage. Despite coming to down to mother earth at a fair speed, Jan couldn't help but notice that it was still more or less intact. In or two places there were massive rents in the side, and what looked like a massive door in the side had been ripped off of its hinges. Making sure his men were ready to go, Jan cursed his NBC gear for the hundredth time since donning it little more than a hour ago. Was it possible to be freeze to death, and die from heat? Jan would probably find out as he contemplated his Recce team's entry.
It had taken Command awhile to decide what to do, but after finding out about the crash it had been decided that Third Squad should proceed as fast as possible and assess the situation at the crash site. And if necessary render aid to anything on the vessel that needed it. Jan still didn't feel comfortable entering what could be an alien ship without any support. He knew that both a Delta Force and SAS team were inbound, but he would have preferred having three or four of his fellow Recce teams offering cover fire and close support.
As it was, his team was already two members short, he had left Hanks and Buyer on a hillock to give them some sniper cover with the NTW-20. It was serious overkill, but anything could in that ship and Jan wasn't taking any chances. Pointing out their entry point as the massive door-less entrance, Steyn and Nel quickly ran forward and made sure it was secure to enter. The remaining troopers all stowed their R4 rifles and pulled silenced Heckler and Koch MP5s except for Beast. The massive man unslung his AA-12, and at a nod from Jan, he entered into the crashed craft.
Jan ran into the hole after tapping Nel on the shoulder, and ran straight into Harolds, Jan was about to swear at him, until he saw what had caught Harolds' and for that matter the rest of the team's attention. The crash had thrown about what looked like cargo pallets and various odds and ends, but lining the bay in massive cradles were the biggest machines Jan had ever seen. Jan couldn't decide what to make of the forms in front of them. Some were smaller and looked like massive prehistoric raptors, whilst others eerily resembled knights from a child's story book.
The sound of something falling had the entire team snap their attention back to the situation at hand. The team medic quickly lifted his Geiger-counter and chemical sniffer, "Sarge, atmosphere is clean, no radiation, and no chemicals that will hurt us too much."
"Keep the suits on lads, we don't know what ET might have up his sleeve" replied Jan. Each of men spread out to search the bay, always mindful to cover each other, always checking blind spots. Jan thought that not a single one of his men wanted to re-enact a scene from a Hollywood B-movie. As his men continued their sweep, Jan turned to look at the bay's contents again. Walking to the leg of one, he wiped away the grime and dust, and under it was an insignia. A four-pointed star, with the top and right points longer than the other two. A serpent coiled around the star. Looking up Jan couldn't help but feel slightly intimidated by the behemoth towering above him. Jan realised with a start that Steyn was calling him.
"Sarge, we found something you need to see." the corporal beckoned him from a nearby crate. Walking over Steyn handed him a sheet of what looked like paper, on it was a list of components, and Jan realised he could read the sheet. On the list were items Jan had never heard of; the last however was unmistakable ; myomer strands, PPC focusing lenses, ammunition. Jan tucked the paper into his satchel and looked around. This was beginning to look more and more like a military vessel.
"Harolds and Jennings, secure this bay, rest of you follow me, standard room to room search. And don't shoot unless you're shot at first. I am sure none of us want to shwack ET before the world can say hello, especially now that we know ET speaks English." ordered Jan, none of his men laughed though. And neither did Jan, they were really out of their depth as they walked into what looked a passage.
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Good work!
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Thanks!
I would appreciate any comments and critique.
@Khan Jade Wolf, Don't give up on your writing man. Its all about practice, and writing a story that you enjoy.
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HE he I have 7 Manuscripts on the go! I have been told by people who have read them to publish them.
I am trying hard to get them on the computer to keep them in order!
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The story is just starting, but it looks good so far.
Good story so far. Please don't fall into that silly view where ALL BT tech curbstomps 2012 modern day Terran tech.
Yes BT armor is superior, yes they have energy weapons and Terra doesn't, yes they have big honking space ships and Terra don't, but that's all they've got.
Modern Terra has a huge advantage in the performance of their electronics, ballistic weapon ranges and accuracy, superb artillery, and heap tons of over the horizon weapons like cruise missiles. In fact the South Africans have some of the best mobile artillery out there right now.
Plus Terra has plenty of experience dealing with cultist wackjobs :D
Lol, no. :D
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June 10, 2010
Somewhere in Antarctica
Third Squad, 4th Reconnaissance Commando
Another hour later
After two hours in the craft Jan couldn't help but feel that he was in a nuclear submarine. The corridors were cramped and narrow, with exposed cabling and piping, everywhere he looked there were attempts to save weight and space. After covering two decks, they had only found wreckage, nothing to indicate that the vessel had been crewed at all. Richards suddenly called a halt to their sweep. Walking over to the Trooper, Richards signaled that he had seen a body, and it wasn't moving.
Taking the mouth mirror from him Jan slowly changed the angle of the mirror and saw a pair of legs at the end of the corridor, Richards was right the legs weren't moving. But how to proceed? That had been bothering Jan, he had evidence that the crew of the vessel did write in English, but that didn't mean they spoke it. "Mostert with me, the rest of you make sure you cover us." Two of his men sprinted to the other side of the entrance to the corridor. With possible covering fire from two angles now, Jan set off with is medic tucked right behind him. Both men were trying to walk as stealthily as possible, whilst at the same time looking over every inch of the corridor looking for signs of tripwires and other nasty traps. As the two soldiers rounded the corner, both started to breathe again. Jan turned back to the corridor and signaled for his men to join him, he could see the curious expression on their faces as they approached. Realisation dawned on them as they saw the legs without an adjoining torso. The Medic knelt besides the the legs and donned a pair of surgical gloves over his NBC suit, after a few seconds of probing he turned back to the Staff Sergeant. "Definitely human, Sarge. But it looks like she was cut in half by weapon's fire. You don't see wounds like this on a crash victim..." Mostert trailed off as he realised what he had just said.
Each of the wearied men in his squad raised their weapons again, adrenaline keeping them focused and attentive despite the lack of sleep. Fresh concerns weighed down on Jan, if the crew of this craft had been fighting each other, and possible still were, who would or rather should he side with. "Shit. This is starting to be way above my pay-grade" Jan looked down at the corpse again, and decided in that instant to move on, who ever would do that to a woman deserved no help from Jan and his Recces.
As the Recce team started prowling forward again, Jan started to think towards the possible threat that lay in wait ahead of them. What kind of squad-level weapon could possibly cause the type of wounds that they had seen? A sudden burst of what sounded like automatic fire had the entire team dive for cover, weapons leveled at the closing sound of fire. A young-looking man dove round the nearest corner, before leaning out to shoot down the very same corridor. He turned to continue running only to suddenly stop as he realised six silenced weapons were now pointed at him. The young man had a large gash running down his cheek, and what looked like more than one bullet wound to the chest. He fired another salvo down the corridor before speaking "Denique hos adjuvandum me interficere Fragilis."
Jan had no idea what language the young man had just spoken, and by the silence from his team, Jan knew that none of them understood either. A frown grew across the young man's face, which soon turned to anger as he spoke again "Me desertam Blake" and raised his weapon. Five bullets slammed him straight into the wall, the corpse slid down to the floor, his weapon falling from his fingers. "Secure the body, I am going to see if his adversaries are more affable" Jan ordered. Beast kicked the unfamiliar gun away, and stepped back to let Steyn check the body.
Jan got as close as possible to the edge of the corridor before shouting "The friend of yours is dead, I hope to hell that you show a tad more restraint..." but only silence answered him. Looking back to his team for guidance, they only gave him a shrug each in reply. Jan sighed as he shouted again "We come in Peace" and waited again for an answer. Seconds passed, and yet only quiet echoed. Jan was about to turn back to turn back to his squad when a weak voice finally answered "Prove it you bastard."
Deciding to take a chance Jan walked into the corridor with his H&K raised above his head, farther down at another corridor junction an older woman stepped out, her weapon still leveled at Jan. As the woman walked towards Jan, he could see a sickish tone to the woman's skin; sweat plastered her hair to her head. "Good idea with the NBC gear, the Blakist bastards pumped some kind of chemical into life support systems soon as we killed the majority of them..." the woman stopped walking as she started coughing, it wracked her entire body. She spat out a mouthful of blood before continuing to walk. "I don't recognize the ranks tabs or unit insignia there soldier, where you from? And you better hope I like your answer, Son" the woman's voice held a certain authority. She expected Jan to obey her . Probably an officer Jan thought.
"Staff Sergeant Jan Du Pre, Third Squad, Fourth Reconnaissance Commando, we are here to render aid, not that you look like you want any aid" Jan tried to keep the defiant tone from his voice but failed miserably. "Fourth Reconnaissance Commando? Never heard of you, you better not be trying to fool me boy, I didn't go all the way to Huntress and back to be shot by a young pup trying to rob my unit. Where are you from? What state?"
Jan wasn't sure if she was confused or deluded from fever, "I am from a country, South Africa, I serve in the South African National Defence Force" Jan's answer seemed to puzzle the woman. "You mean we are on Terra? We weren't near Terra..." the woman coughed again, and spat out more blood.
"Not Terra, this is earth..." Jan trailed off as the woman lowered her weapon, and then dropped to the floor. Running to the her, Jan felt for a pulse, and could barely feel one. "Steyn, get over here, we have a woman down" Jan shouted down the corridor. The young Medic jumped up from the floor where he was examining the corpse, and ran over. Kneeling next to the woman, Steyn started taking vitals, "Sarge, we have to get her some serious medical help, and soon. Her pulse is weak and thready, and she is running a hell of a temperature."
Jan truly hoped he was going to get a promotion for all of this after everything was done. Frowning to himself, Jan pushed away that thought guiltily. "Steyn, you and van Jaarsveld get her down to the bay, radio the Yanks to get an Medical Evac ASAP. Authorisation Foxtrot Pappa Delta. Got that?" The Medic nodded as he started running an IV into the dying woman. Walking back to his squad Jan sent van Jaarsveld to help Steyn, before turning back to the corpse of the young man. It was going to be impossible to sweep the rest of the craft on their own now, Jan decided that they would finish off sweeping this deck, then move down to the bay through which they had entered. A sense of unease settled over Jan as he ordered his squad back into formation, this day would only get longer at this rate. His team started moving off, but a sudden flicker of movement caught his attention, turning back to the corpse Jan stared at it. Richards noticed Jan's reaction and looked down at the corpse next to him.
Shaking his head Jan turned to follow his team, and in that moment, it stood up. Richards barely had time to shout a warning as a blade shot through his chest and out his back. The young trooper fell to the floor as the blade retracted, Jan stood horrified as the corpse started walking towards him, an unearthly glow coming from the corpse's eyes. Words came out of it's mouth "Plennus Fragilis" as the blade extended from it's arm again. A roar came from behind Jan as Beast stepped forward and fired a double burst from his AA-12 into the corpse, ripping flesh apart, and revealing a solid metal ribcage. A sickly smile grew on the corpse's face as it continued forward. In reply Beast opened fire again.
And again.
And again.
The massive automatic shotgun bucked and spat round after round into the walking corpse. First knocking it down to it's knees. Then ripping off a part of it's face. A metal skull now smiled at them. The smile only lasted three more rounds before the skull exploded.
Beast ejected the empty drum magazine, slammed in another, and walked over to the now headless body, and fired another dozen rounds point-blank into the body.
Jan walked over to Richards, and stared into this empty eyes.
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and for a bunch of earthers, the sudden thought
"oh crap, terminator was REAL!"
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Ummm Huh????
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and for a bunch of earthers, the sudden thought
"oh crap, terminator was REAL!"
Yup getting interesting
An SLDF unit maybe Eridani? With Blakists aboard
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Ummm Huh????
I believe it something along the lines of:
21st Century Commando, meet 31st Century Manei Domini; 31st Century Manei Domini, meet 21st Century Commando
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Whew. ;)
Glad the references there weren't a bit vague. The language that was spoken I just translated using Google Translate, from English to Latin so
you should be able to more or less get a direct translation from that. I have no idea how High Dominus would be constructed using Latin and Greek,
so I stuck to Latin only for now.
As to the unit the DropShip belongs to, I did leave a hint or two earlier. But I leave that for later.
The last post of the story was a bit longer than I usually do, but I found I could get a bit more meat into the post.
How did it read? Was it a bit too in-depth?
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worked well for me,
although working in a few dutch or afrikaaner terms may make it
a little more obvious they arent americans, I didnt even realize they werent till the gace to face intro with the crew
granted by that point I was thinking,
"hmm, an american group with no smiths, garcias or washingtons??"
DT
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Haha.
I really wanted to throw in a few Afrikaans slang terms, but I think I tried to keep the talking to a minimum, I don't think
you really talk all that much during a CQB situation.
But I am definitely going to be making it a bit more obvious that some of the parts of the story take place in South Africa.
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Haha.
I really wanted to throw in a few Afrikaans slang terms, but I think I tried to keep the talking to a minimum, I don't think
you really talk all that much during a CQB situation.
But I am definitely going to be making it a bit more obvious that some of the parts of the story take place in South Africa.
From what I know, (not from movies or T V,) hand Signals are used and to a High degree of speach in some cases!
Ummm Huh?
That was ment as a confused reader wondering what next! With WoB and Comstar!
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June 11, 2010
Somewhere in Antarctica
Delta Site
Admiral Michael Mullen stared out over the white snow at the craft dubbed Object Alpha, the simple sight of it had him shivering more than the cold of the Antarctic ever had. Something that the Science geeks had estimated weighed more than 3,000 tons, had traveled from a distant solar system and almost landed on earth. The thing in front of him made even earth's most advanced rockets look like little more than a child's toy. And the contents of the craft... Mullen didn't even want to think about that.
He turned to walk back to the massive tent that had been setup by the United States Navy for the coming briefing, as he lifted the flap he was assaulted by a wave of heat and the smell of too many warms bodies in a small confined space. Around the snack table were clustered officers from more than two dozen different Armed Forces; Mullen could see by their hand movements and loud voices that they were arguing over the advantages and disadvantages of various weapons systems. Almost directly opposite to them were the lead scientists from the most renowned research and development groups from around earth. They looked decidedly uncomfortable in their current environment. Mullen quietly found a seat near the back of the tent, and after getting the attention of his aide, nodded for him to begin the briefing. The entire tent quietened as Mullen's aide - Commander JJ Smith - tapped twice on the microphone connected to the PA system, those around the snack table quickly returned to the proper military decorum as they took their seats. Looking at the scientists taking their assigned seats, Mullen thought that very little in the current situation would cheer them up.
Smith spoke up as the tent quietened "This is the first weekly briefing for Project Prometheus, we will be hearing from the Chief Medical Officer, the lead-scientist and finally an after-action report from the SANDF-led first contact. Doctor Williams, will you please start." A dignified looking naval officer with the four bars and star of a naval captain slowly stood, as he walked the podium he adjusted his glasses and scanned his notes. Before Williams commenced his briefing he cleared his throat loudly, and gazed up at everyone from his notes.
"Good Morning all, during the first contact incident yesterday the teams that investigated the craft yesterday found only seven people still alive. Of those, two have since succumbed to their wounds, whilst the other five remain in a critical condition on board the USS Enterprise. Only one, a female, is suffering from wounds inflicted by a weapon. She suffered what appears to have been at least a 5.56mm gunshot wound to her abdomen, as well as a 7.62mm gunshot wound to the shoulder. The other four are suffering from severe exposure to an unknown weaponised chemical agent. The chemical agent is both odourless and colourless, and when breathed in causes significant damage to the soft lung tissues. All those exposed are under medically-induced coma's and on ventilators. We hope that by minimizing the strain on the lungs they will recover in time." Williams paused again as he shuffled his notes. Mullen could see more than one person had twitched at the mention of the chemical weapon. Most here were professional soldiers, and frowned on the use of what could be considered a coward's weapon.
Williams looked up again as he started talking again "In total, sixty-eight bodies were removed from the craft, most have perished from inhaling the chemical weapon, whilst about a third have numerous gun-shot wounds and what appears to be wounds from large bladed weapons. Everyone removed from the craft is human, identical in every aspect to us. Except for eight of the bodies." with this he activated the large projector showing a number of corpses undergoing autopsies, the projector flicked through a number of photographs, each showing different organs and limbs that had been altered mechanically. The entire room became restless again as murmurs and hushed whispering filled the tent. The Doctor coughed once, restoring some order "I am sure that the scientists will be able to go into more depth, but the level of..." It was obvious to Mullen that the Doctor was struggling with finding an appropriate word "Augmentation was extreme in all of the subjects. Each had a device in the throat which I am sure filters out harmful chemical and biological airborne agents. And seven of the subjects had a layer of armour beneath their skin and muscle as well as more than one type of muscle augmentation." The Doctor picked up his notes from the podium and as he sat down Mullen noticed that he took a rather large sip from a hip flask.
Without prompting one of the leading astronomers and physicists from CERN - Soren Altman - rose to begin his briefing. The scientist shifted nervously, emphasizing his severe bookish looks; the thick glasses did not help with his appearance in the slightest only making him look more like the stereotypical science-nerd. His first few words were fumbled and lost, a Marine sergeant quickly got up to switch on his mike "Thank... Thank you Corporal..." his reply had a few soldiers guffawing and laughing quietly. "It has taken us a few hours, but we have managed to gain full access to the computer systems of the crashed craft and have learned a number of things that had us greatly surprised." More than a few of the soldiers were rolling their eyes at the idea of a scientist being surprised or even excited. Soren seemed oblivious to the noises "By accessing the astrological data we have been able to make a few remarkable discoveries..." he loaded his own images into the projector, the first one showed a stylised top down stellar map. "This is roughly the star systems around our own Sol and earth. Using the data from the crashed craft, we have overlaid their data with our own, we have managed to make this amended stellar map. Our solar system is the central one in gold," while he was speaking he had loaded another stellar map showing a golden star point in the middle. Numerous pulsing red stars and smaller white stars appeared. "The red stars signify systems that have habitable planets and sizable human populations. Our early estimates have two thousand systems with human populations."
The air rushed out of Mullen as he realised what he had just heard. The feeling of disbelief and shock physically fell on him. Looking around he could see similar expressions echoing around the room. An angry tide washed over the room as soldiers started shouting and arguing amongst themselves.
Altman stood fast as a rock amidst the tide the tide of rising anger. The bookish man seemed to grow more confident and happy with himself as those in the tent lost their composure and some came to blows over the scientist's discovery.
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[notworthy] Keep going though we are not worthy of this good run!
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June 11, 2010
Somewhere in Antarctica
Delta Site
Jan ducked under the tent flap leaving the chaos raging inside. Despite the freezing air Jan took a deep breathe, it felt good to be in the open again. Even if he was already feeling the cold clawing itself into his bones. Noticing the lead-scientist from the briefing Jan walked over; Altman was crouched on an outcropping staring off at Object Alpha. Somehow the scientist looked different to Jan, and after a few seconds he realised Altman wasn't wearing his glasses. The thick glasses were in Altman's hands, he seemed to be playing with them, he looked to lost in thought. Slowly the scientist turned his head towards the young soldier, his piercing blue eyes were far colder than Antarctic winds blowing past Jan; who couldn't help but shiver as the glance turned to a stare.
Neither man blinked.
After a few seconds a grin softened Altman's face, but Jan couldn't help but notice his eyes remained as cold as ever.
"I like you Staff-Sergeant." The words surprised Jan, the man in front of him was completely and utterly different to the one that had briefed him not more than five minutes ago. The scientist seemed to know what the soldier was thinking; his grin only got bigger.
"You see Sergeant, everyone expects a scientist to be awkward and completely anti-social, incapable of doing anything more than calculations on the board in front of him." Altman paused before he straightened and jumped down from the outcropping, as he landed Jan noticed how he never lost his balance or poise; despite the thick clothing and treacherous footing. "By playing the role of the bumbling scientist, I not only can learn a great about my fellows and those that fund my research, but I can surprise them when the time is needed. And as I am sure you know, a surprised foe, is one that makes mistakes." The scientist seemed to appraise the soldier as he stood next to him. To Jan it felt much like an inspection, like the many he underwent as a young recruit; although Jan doubted that his Drill Instructors were ever this thorough.
Jan silently reached into his pocket and took out a crumpled pack of cigarettes, he offered one to Altman, who accepted graciously. "Sergeant, I didn't take you for a man that smokes, not one who looks after himself like you do." Altman took a deep drag and sighed with pleasure.
Jan dragged on his own cigarette before answering "I wasn't a smoker, a few things have changed in the last few days."
The scientist looked at the young soldier again. Jan managed to hide his shudder this time. "What could happen to a soldier such as yourself that would lead him to change his habits so much?" The question seemed to be rhetorical but Jan answered anyway: "Having a good soldier impaled by a blade from a dead man can have the effect of forcing oneself to re-evaluate ones outlook on life." Jan let an angry tone thicken his voice.
For a moment Jan could swear Altman's eyes softened "Losing a friend is traumatic, but many such trials exist to test us as humans, test us, and make us stronger."
Blowing out some smoke Jan turned to look at the scientist again "Is that why you were so blunt with the news that we aren't alone? Were you testing those men in there?" Jan waved vaguely in the direction of the tent. Altman seemed to laugh at the question.
"Indeed my dear-Sergeant, I needed to know what sort of men were defending the earth. And with a simple statement delivered bluntly I now know." As he finished talking Altman took one last drag before throwing the half-smoked cigarette away. He turned to walk away, but stopped as Jan replied "I had to pull two generals apart who were literally assaulting each other because the one had said that you had just given proof that God does not exist. You just sparked a religious war in that tent."
The scientist looked over his shoulder "I may have done that, but Sergeant, think on this. I just told those men, those tasked with defending all of us, that there are two thousand worlds out there in the universe that have human populations a great deal more advanced than us. Worlds that will want what we have, and that have the power to take whatever they want from us. As a adult might take a sweet from a child. And all those men in there can do is come to blows over religion. Doesn't that bother you in the slightest? Because that my good fellow, scares the shit out of me."
Altman buried his hands deep in his pockets and walked off. Leaving Jan to finish his cigarette alone with this thoughts.
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You are one deep thinker there dude ! Gratz and don't leave us hang too long!
[rockon]
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Nice stuff so far. One question: They scientists have cracked the navigation program, what about the Ships log with dates and any onboard library that may contain history books or data?
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Nice stuff so far. One question: They scientists have cracked the navigation program, what about the Ships log with dates and any onboard library that may contain history books or data?
DUDE! Oh good lord that would be no good for us here at this time! }:)
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Are you and Centurion03 collaborating on this one?
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At the moment its a solo project. In time perhaps it would be nice to collaborate.
Blacknova, most of the DropShip's database has been cracked, the navigation data just happened to be the first thing Altman looked at. Being a military DropShip it has all sorts of nice things that will teach the Earth Humans a great deal. Having examples to study also helps a lot. I just hope that the people of Earth can get their act together. ;-)
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Are you and Centurion03 collaborating on this one?
No I was meaning (us ) earth in 2011 if that was here now!
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I just hope that the people of Earth can get their act together. ;-)
You have been drinking haven't you?
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Hahaha.
I did ask that in a rather ironic sense. Who would do more damage? Manei Domini or the
Americans?
Probably the Yanks... #P
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I agree, then the smart people, like Safas, Aussies and Kiwis, would have to come and bail them out.
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I agree, then the smart people, like Safas, Aussies and Kiwis, would have to come and bail them out.
Add Scots to that list
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Wow!
1000 views! Thanks to everyone that was taken the time to read my little piece of fiction!
More to come later today.
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Thanks!
I would appreciate any comments and critique.
Two issues:
- Avoid using real life people. It does not really work well, since there is always the risk that the reader will feel that they are OOC.
- Slow down the pace. It is the journey, not the destination that counts. You could make the story way more interesting by doubling the size of each scene. Reading about your characters discovering things about Battletech is after all the most enjoyable parts.
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This is pimp. Keep it coming.
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Things have been a bit busy, since I got my first Freelance writing job, but here is the next bit. More tonight.
EDIT: SOP stands for Standard Operating Procedure. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Standard_Operating_Procedure (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Standard_Operating_Procedure)
June 15, 2010
Somewhere in Antarctica
Delta Site
The constant darkness had long ago destroyed any semblance of Jan's internal biorhythms, since arriving in the Antarctic more than five days ago Jan doubted that he had slept for more than eight hours. Copious amounts of caffeine and nicotine allowed him to function in a somewhat normal manner, but Jan could feel the exhaustion try and overwhelm him every time he closed his eyes. The constant howling of the wind wasn't helping either. The few times he had managed to fall asleep he had nightmarish dreams; the walking corpse with the glowing eyes always getting up off the ground and walking towards Jan. Not matter what he used to knock the corpse to the floor. Always whispering "Plennus Fragilis" then smiling, but the smile would grow bigger and bigger until only a smiling metal skull was left. After waking up from that recurring dream Jan seldom felt like trying sleep again.
Jan had taken to walking around the Delta Site until he felt tired enough to try and get some rest. Instead of being drawn to his cold bed each night, he ended up staring at Object Alpha from the very same place he had met the eccentric scientists Altman days ago. Massive spotlights now illuminated the crashed craft, showing the massive damage from the crash, but also almost perfectly silhouetting the massive insignia painted on the side.
A star with a serpent coiled around it.
The SANDF Sergeant started mulling over Altman's words again, wondering how long earth could hide from the rest of the galaxy. The things he had seen in that crashed craft had him in awe and yet at the same time he feared what the craft might do to humanity and earth. A sudden sound had Jan drawing his pistol. Turning to face his attacker he was greeted by a deep laugh. Jan relaxed slightly when he saw it was his heavy weapons specialist, Beast.
"I should shoot you out of principle for sneaking up on me you know" muttered Jan.
The walking slab of muscle winked back at this sergeant "Sarge, with the amount of noise I was making I could have woken up most of the camp."
Jan only grunted in reply as he re-holstered his pistol. The giant black man towered over Jan - despite him being 6' 3" himself - as Beast came to stand next to his Sergeant. Jan sighed loudly as he looked back at Object Alpha, "Beast, we aren't alone..."
The massive black man grunted and shrugged his shoulders.
Eyeballing his companion Jan sighed again "Lets go get something warm to eat, I heard the Yanks flew in a whole damned kitchen." Both men started laughing at the sheer ridiculousness of the American Armed Forces, but neither were about to complain about their first warm meal in days. As the two soldiers walked deeper into the Delta Site, the rings of tents gradually gave way to more permanent prefabricated structures. With Object Alpha massing thousands of tons it been easier to expand the Delta Site and bring the world's best minds to it than even contemplate moving Alpha.
The smells of eggs and bacon frying in oil had Jan literally drooling in hunger, he could already see himself biting down into a bacon and egg sandwich, with the oil and fat dripping down his chin, by the time Jan and Beast neared the kitchen he had literally to stop himself from running. Even the usually dour Beast was looking excited at the prospect of breakfast.
Jan's thoughts of breakfast were interrupted as two Delta Force operators in full kit suddenly stopped, and snapped a perfect parade salute. Jan almost fell over himself trying to stop and salute back, the two operators nodded and continued on past them. It was only as they walked into the kitchen that Jan stopped and turned back to watch the distant special forces troopers. "Beast, I could be wrong here, but SOP has us not saluting outdoors when on deployment, snipers and what not. Last I checked Delta Force has the same SOP." The giant turned to look at the operators as well before grumbling "And K.L. Johnson was black when we played poker two nights ago."
Jan almost cried in disappointment when he realised that he was going to miss breakfast "Beast, get the team together, full combat load. I need to go check on someone."
[url]] (http://[/url)http://http://
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{check, SOP ??? nope that was not the SOP of a black ops} Nicely done!
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as Beast came to stand next to his Sergeant. Jan sighed loudly as he looked back at Object Alpha, "Beast, we aren't alone..
I am picturing a certain South African Rugby player, I assume you are as well?
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Haha.
Thats pretty much exactly whom I had in mind. :-)
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For humor, why not use ol'whacky the coach as a General.
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June 11, 2010
Somewhere in Antarctica
Delta Site
Mullen pulled off his massive parka as he entered the main science building, he shook off the snow, before giving up and throwing the parka into the corner. Altman spun himself round to look at the irritated Admiral, and as Mullen stomped over Altman quietly leaned back and handed over a warm flask to the Admiral. Mullen accepted with a nod before taking a large gulp of the amber liquid, nodding his thanks again he handed it back.
"So Altman, what was so important that you couldn't just send me the memo? I was about to fly back to Washington to brief the President. And get away from this damned cold" Mullen let the irritation he was feeling seep into his words. Altman took his own healthy swig from the flask before turning back to the computer in his work area. He started typing, and seemed to become completely engrossed with his work. Mullen could feel his irritation bloom into a growing anger, but, just as he was about to scream at the arrogant scientist, Altman clapped his hands and jumped up. He seemed surprised to see the Admiral still standing there. He held out the flask again.
Mullen started to mumble "Damnable scientists" before grabbing the flask from Altman, and promptly draining it. That would teach Altman to keep him waiting.
A shadow of a smile appeared on Altman's face before he spoke "My apologies Admiral, I just wanted to finish a piece of code that would get this latest gadget working..." he leaned forward and switched-on a round device in the middle of the room. It hummed for a few seconds before suddenly washing the entire room in a massive three dimensional image of the Milky Way. Mullen's mouth fell open, looking around he couldn't help but be amazed at the scope of what he was seeing. A cocksure grin appeared on Altman's face "This is called a Tri-D projector by our distant cousins. It uses a few rather amazing algorithms to create three dimensional images without needing any significant hardware. Without that specific algorithm we would need quite a few super computers to do this."
Mullen took one last look before looking back at Altman, "So, they are more advanced than us?"
Altman frowned in thought for a few seconds before answering "In some areas they are significantly more advanced than we are. The obvious one being that they have access to interstellar travel. However, there are quite a few areas that are harder to compare."
Mullen had turned back to gaze at the Milky Way "What do you mean?" Altman had walked back to his computer console and typed in a few commands.
"Well, their material sciences is extremely advanced, some of external plating we salvaged from Object Alpha is incredible, decades ahead of anything that can be made of earth. And I'm not even going to start talking about their fusion reactors that power nearly everything. One area we are far ahead of them is computing and computer power, they have computers that would fit in perfectly in the 80's and early 90's, ours are simply more advanced and powerful." Altman had become lost in his thoughts as he went over everything he had seen in the crashed craft.
The sudden boom of an explosion ripped both men out of their respective day dreams, Altman glanced worryingly at Mullen as the Admiral rushed to the window that looked out over Delta Site. Altman saw the reds and yellows from the flames reflect over the Admirals face, it seemed to complement the growing outrage that he knew Mullen would be feeling. The door to the lab flew open as a Naval officer raced in, Altman noticed that Mullen had reached for a sidearm that wasn't there.
The young officer reached towards Mullen "Admiral, we need to evac now, the base is under attack!"
In those few seconds Altman noticed two things; the name tag - Hemmingway - did not match the man wearing it. Altman had talked to Hemmingway on numerous occasions, and knew that they both shared a love of his namesake, Ernst Hemminway. The second was the stippling of blood stains running down the front of the uniform jacket, from the left side of the neck, down to the trousers. "Admiral, I don't know..." Altman barely had time to utter those words before imposter Hemmingway pulled out his side arm. Mullen hardly had time to flinch as the gun boomed twice in the confined room.
As imposter Hemmingway turned to fire at Mullen two more booms filled the tiny room.
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Oh sure leave us at this key point and have us sweating our buts of trying to second guess you! :'(
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Ok I'll throw in the dice
remant of the original expedition trying to clean up mess....
Old (current) Earth faction sticking nose in trying to take over...
or
annoyed time agents from distant future trying to clean up timeline :D
great stuff, keep it coming
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Oh sure leave us at this key point and have us sweating our buts of trying to second guess you! :'(
[tickedoff] I totally mirror those thoughts [tickedoff]
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EDIT: Not exactly sure why I went with the choice of making Soren a Manei Domini, it really didn't make sense to me, so this part has been significantly changed.
June 11, 2010
Somewhere in Antarctica
Delta Site
After standing with his eyes shut for a few seconds, Mullen finally resolved to open them to see what fate awaited him. Before him stood the Imposter, with a surprised look on his face, before falling forward into a heap, with most of the back of his head missing. At the door of the Science Lab stood a soldier with a smoking AA-12, it took Mullen a few seconds to realise that the soldier was talking to him "Admiral... Sir..."
Finally coming to his senses Mullen realised that despite two shots to the chest, Altman was alive and moaning from pain "Sergeant! Get a Corpsman for Altman!" Mullen shouted as he ran to the scientist, and tried to remember his meager medical training. Pulling open the parka Mullen saw that one bullet had struck his shoulder, and the other had hit him in the abdomen. Mullen stared at the at the blood running from the stomach wound, by now the blood was pooling around the scientist.
When Jan saw the wounds for himself he was shocked to see that state of the scientist "Admiral, you need to put pressure on the stomach wound, Sir, make him comfortable."
Mullen took a few seconds to realise he was standing over Soren, watching the scientist bleed out. He knelt down, pulling his parka off to use it as a make-shift bandage "Sergeant, I'll try, but you need to get that Corpsman, most rickety tick..." He trailed off when he noticed the gray colour that Soren's skin had taken.
"Aye-Sir" the Recce mumbled before leaving to find someone to help.
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June 11, 2010
Somewhere in Antarctica
Delta Site
Chaos reigned in the Delta Site, the detonation of explosives, and the cacophony of small-arms fire gave the Antarctic base a surreal atmosphere. Jan was stunned to see the differing reactions of the civilians and soldiers on the base, with very few of them actually reacting as if they were in a war-zone. Most stood mutely staring at a raging fire that had engulfed the central administration building.
Jan finally found a Medic working on a women who was staring blankly into the sky: "Doc..."
The Medic slowly covered her face with her parka, and slowly shook his head "She was too close to an explosion, massive internal bleeding..." the Medic shook his head sadly "She didn't even make a sound... Not even at the end..." He slowly peeled off his latex gloves, he seemed to only notice Jan then "I'm guessing another casualty... How bad?"
Both men started jogging back towards the Science Labs "Two gun-shot wounds, one to the shoulder, the other to the abdomen, he's bleeding badly Doc."
Another explosion triggered another intense round of small-arms fire, the Medic looked over his shoulder the noise "Where the hell are they shelling us from?"
"Those aren't mortars or artillery Doc, it's just planted explosives being triggered, and scared soldiers shooting into the dark..." Jan didn't bother finishing as they finally reached the Science Labs, the medic ran straight to Soren and began trying to save his life. "He's lost a lot of blood, I may be able to control the bleeding, but we're going to need to get him to the Enterprise quickly."
Jan and the Admiral looked at each other, Jan silently drew his side-arm and handed it to Mullen, who quickly ejected the magazine, checked the rounds, and slid it back, cocking it, and pointed it at the ground. "Sergeant, let's go see about arranging an Evac, and getting some help from the Enterprise."
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June 11, 2010
Off the coast Antarctica
USS Enterprise
Lieutenant Commander Bright Noah stood on the bridge of the pride of the US Navy. Staring over the vast expanse of the Atlantic ocean, the ice sheets of Antarctica barely visible in the low light. His secondment to the US Navy was at least ending on a high-note. Military officers in the know of the events taking place in Antarctica were scrambling to get in on the action.
A young bridge officer tried to get the Commander's attention, Noah waited to see how long it would take for the ensign to speak up. "Commander Noah, Sir..."
Noah suddenly turned and acted surprised to see the officer there: "Speak up man! This is the bridge of a naval warship. There isn't any time for dilly-dally!"
"Sir, sorry, Sir!" stuttered the ensign as a blush quickly spread across her cheeks.
Noah sighed inwardly, Americans could be so bashful. "Well speak up ensign! What seems to be the problem?"
The ensign took a few breathes to calm herself: "We've lost contact with the Delta Site. We're not getting any reply over radio, the hard line and the local Air Traffic Control. The VHF radio beacon and ILS are also dark..."
Noah frowned at the last part, any one of those systems could go down, but the likelihood of all three going down was minimal. Noah grabbed a pair of binoculars and walked to the opposite side of the bridge. The Delta Site was too distant to see, even with the binoculars, but it gave him a moment to think.
"Ensign, we have a flight-pair of Tomcats on the catapult, ready for launch correct?"
To which the ensign nodded vigorously.
"And we do have a drill scheduled to take place sometime in the next 24 hours, on the prerogative of the Officer on Duty?"
Again the ensign nodded vigorously.
"Scramble the Tomcats, have them do an over-flight of the Delta Site, and report back the condition. They are to do so with all due haste. Understood?"
***
USS Enterpise
Bow steam catapults
Hot Dog was doing her best to keep her hands warm, the cockpit of a F-14 was spacious and reasonably comfortable, but it definitely wasn't good at keeping its pilot and RIO warm in Antarctic weather. Only 15 minutes more on Ready 5 duty before they'd be pulled off of the flight line, and all that stood between hot chow and some rack time was a short debrief.
"Black Knight 5 and 6, this is the CAG. You've pulled the short straw. You are to launch immediately, and proceed at maximum safe speed to the Delta Site, over-fly, and report back on the situation on the ground. Visiblity is good, but radio communications are spotty. Don't expect VHS Beacon or ILS. Use inertial guidance as much as possible."
That short communication stirred her RIO - Ketchup - from his nap "Oh shit! It's go time Hot Dog!" As they both rushed through an abbreviated checklist, Hot Dog could hear Ketchup hum to himself.
"Really Ketchup? Danger Zone? Isn't that a bit cliche?"
"Oh most definitely not! We're going to be racing at better than Mach 1 across the Antarctic! What could be more in the Danger Zone than that!" he laughed.
Hot Dog managed to stop herself from swearing, Ketchup would never change. The yellow-jacketed shooter on the flight deck gave her the thumbs up, and she saluted back.
As the F-14's afterburners kicked in and they were launched into the air, Hot Dog found herself humming along to Danger Zone.
Dammit.
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June 11, 2010
Somewhere in Antarctica
On approach to the Delta Site
Hot Dog slowed the F-14 to just below Mach 1, no need to cause any unnecessary damage to the infrastructure and piss off the accountants. "Huh..." Ketchup uttered from the back seat of the Tomcat.
"Ketchup... Talk to me. You know I don't speak in Huhs" she grumbled through her teeth.
"I don't want to alarm you... But we keep getting pinged by something..."
"We're going to have to walk about your sense of urgency Ketchup... Pinged by what? The ATC at the Delta Site?"
"That would make sense if we were being pinged from the front, but this is coming from above..."
"Above? There shouldn't be anything above us... The airspace is clear, at least it should be."
"Exactly... But it's pretty low power, more like a navigation radar checking for ground clutter..."
"Keep an eye on it, we're about to over-fly the Delta Site and I still haven't been able to raise ATC."
Hot Dog banked the Tomcat into a gentle turn, and saw the Delta Site on fire. Most of the north-eastern corner of the compound had been leveled and there were fires raging through the rest of the site.
Hot Dog keyed her wing man on the comms: "Frisky, you seeing this?! What the hell is going on down there?!"
"Copy that Hot Dog, I'm pretty sure I see weapon's fire as well, shit is going down!"
Before Hot Dog could reply Ketchup shouted into her ear: "Vampire! Vampire! Vampire! Fast-movers inbound! We're being hit by active targeting now!"
Hot Dog immediately slammed the Tomcat's throttle into the firewall. The F-14 shot forward. The sudden g-force slammed her back into the ejector seat. "Break! Break! Break!" she managed through clenched teeth. Both F-14's went evasive, turning in opposite directions. Hot Dog saw a group of missiles flash past the F-14 in her peripheral vision.
"Hnrnrg, that was close..." Ketchup muttered "Tracking bogeys on our six now... Two tangos closing... F*** me... They're painting us with enough watts to melt the paint off of our asses..."
Hot Dog tried to get an eyeball on the bogies "Frisky, loop around let's see if we can get a lock on these ******!"
"I'll try... But I can't break the lock and ECM is doing jack shit to whatever their beaming at us... Shitshitshit..." Hot Dog could hear the strain in Frisky's voice as he took the Tomcat through a series of jukes and jinks.
"That's it Frisky... Bring 'em this way..." Hot Dog finally managed to spot the bogey on Frisky's six. Whatever it was, was ugly as sin, pointy as hell and angled in ways that didn't make sense to her.
Ketchup spoke up "Radar isn't picking that thing up at all... It's dumping out a lot of heat though..."
Hot Dog urged her Tomcat forward "Sidewinders it is..." The missile finally purred as the seeker head locked onto the bogey...
"Knight Five, Fox 2..." Hot Dog pulled the trigger, the Sidewinder shot off of the weapons rail. And just for good measure Hot Dog pulled the trigger a second time.
Both Sidewinders closed the distance to the bogey in a flash. The first missile hit between what looked like the tail and engine exhaust of the bogey. Even from a distance Hot Dog could see pieces of armour being blown away. The second missile hit the side of the engine itself and caused the bogey to slew violently to the side.
The bogey corrected itself for a moment, and fired what looked like lightning from its nose. Hot Dog watched dumb-founded as the back half of Frisky's Tomcat exploded. The bogey's own engine sputtered and then cut-out entirely. The bogey started to fall towards the ground, uncontrolled.
Hot Dog barely heard Ketchup screaming at her to go evasive.
Frisky and his RIO - Dingo - hadn't ejected.
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The only part I find strange is that they're still using Tomcats. Weren't those retired in 2006 or so?
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It lives ... very happy to see this continue.
Thank you.
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The only part I find strange is that they're still using Tomcats. Weren't those retired in 2006 or so?
Technically... But the Tomcat is waaaaay cooler than the Hornet. ;)
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It lives ... very happy to see this continue.
Thank you.
Now let's see if we can keep this train rolling!
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Technically... But the Tomcat is waaaaay cooler than the Hornet. ;)
Except for the part by around the last decade they were flying, around 50% of a Squadron's Tomcats never actually worked anymore. Like they were flying many of them with no working radar by the end because it was constantly broken.
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June 12, 2010
Somewhere in Antarctica
Nape of the earth approach to the Delta Site
The V-22 Osprey rocked back and forth in the Antarctic wind stream, throwing the soldiers in the troop compartment around like a petulant child. Air Force Combat Controller, Staff Sergeant Miles Ortega had experienced worse flying weather, but not by much. A storm system had surged out from the southern regions and was threatening to cut off the Delta Site entirely. It was a race to get to the Delta Site before the storm hit, and before whatever was attacking the site accomplished what it had set out to do.
An Army Ranger retched loudly, emptying his stomach messily all over his feet. His platoon sergeant just stared at the unfortunate trooper, looking pretty green himself.
Ortega knew he had his job cut out for him. Once on the ground he'd be coordinating the incoming V-22 flights with reinforcements, outbound flights with casualties and evacuees and any air-support the relief force would need.
The crew chief stepped into the troop compartment and shouted: "Five minutes to the LZ! Five minutes!" The chief barely managed to stand upright in the buffeting of the storm. At that the Ranger Lieutenant faced his men from his seat : "Five minutes to the LZ! Check your weapons! Check your weapons! Remember, we have civilians and military personnel mixed in together. Fire only when fired upon, we are here to evacuate the survivors."
Most of the Rangers looked nervous and fidgety, Ortega understood the feeling all too well. Even after two tours in Afghanistan he still felt the same nerves. He'd just gotten better at hiding it. Ortega checked his M4 one last time, hitting the magazine release with his thumb, pulling it out, checking that the rounds were seated, and ending the ritual by slamming the magazine back in and flicking the bolt carrier release.
The drone of the engines became a sudden whine, everyone in their seat webbing was thrown violently to the right as the V-22 flared to lose its last bit of forward momentum. The rear ramp slammed down, cold air and snow blowing into the compartment. The visibility outside already down to tens of meters only. The Lieutenant jumped up from his seat at the rear of the compartment and charged forward "Go! Go! G..." his feet barely touched the ground before a beam of light hit him in the chest and blew him back into the V-22. Ortega stared at the Lieutenant, most of this chest was missing. His body armour had clearly not helped against what had hit him.
The silence in the troop hold was deafening.
Ortega snapped out of it first, the longer they remained seated in a stationery VTOL the higher the risk of ending up as the Lieutenant had. Ortega grabbed the nearest Ranger and lifted him out of the seat and pushed him out into the cold, impromptu LZ. By the third Ranger thrown bodily from the V-22, the rest had snapped out of their fugue and the platoon sergeant had regained his senses and was organizing the disembarked Rangers into a perimeter. Coordinating with the Rangers emerging from the three others Ospreys.
Ortega dialed in the pilot of the V-22 "Cross 2-1, this is CCT-2, I'm declaring the LZ hot, and we haven't located the survivors yet, I recommend you take-off and orbit at 5 kilometers."
"Roger that Ortega, we've lost two more F-14s, search and rescue flights are inbound. The Enterprise is scrambling the rest of the Black Knights, and we've got 4 Growlers inbound for SEAD. Call sign Gypsy 4-1. Good luck down there!" The V-22 shot off into murky fogs, barely a few meters off of the ground, the sound quickly fading.
Ortega turned round and tried to get his bearings, they should be at the northern edge of the Delta Site, with the base spread out in front of them, but the storm hid most of it. Running towards the platoon sergeant, Ortega realized this would be the perfect time for an ambush. Cut-off and disorientated as they were.
The enemy then decided to oblige that realization.
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Gunnery Sergeant? Only the Marines have those...
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Fixed. :)
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Growlers? Since you are using the F-14 in this story, perhaps you meant Prowlers (EA-6B's)? I suppose 4 Prowlers would have been all up-status for such a sortie but in reality... usually one was parked in HB1 for something wrong.
otherwise, One. Ping. Only. Please, continue!
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Growlers? Since you are using the F-14 in this story, perhaps you meant Prowlers (EA-6B's)? I suppose 4 Prowlers would have been all up-status for such a sortie but in reality... usually one was parked in HB1 for something wrong.
otherwise, One. Ping. Only. Please, continue!
The EA-18 Growler entered operational service in the US Navy in 2009. It's not outside the realm of possibility that high-priority and top secret mission like the Delta Site would have access to all sorts of toys like the Growler, especially in mid-2010.
I'm bending some historical elements a bit for the sake of coolness. I'm not sure if I'm excited or dreading the coming battles between MBTs and BattleMechs. xp
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I'm trying to place Ortega... is he the crew chief on the Osprey? If so, why's he on the ground and not the bird?
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Ortega is an USAF Combat Controller. I've been re-reading that part of the story, and I do think I could be clearer about what his role is. I'll re-work it a bit when I post today's update.
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Cool, thanks! :thumbsup:
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June 12, 2010
Antarctica
Landing Zone X-Ray, Delta Site
Lying on his stomach just inside the edge of the landing zone, Jan scanned the roof tops of the prefabricated buildings that ringed the southern approach of the landing zone. The scope on the anti-material rifle doing little to dispel the reduced visibility brought on by the snow storm. A flare caught Jan's eye, and low and behold a figure emerged from the haze and landed on the roof. If Jan had to guess, the figure was 3 meters, and appeared to be impossibly slim, and with wings? No matter, Jan thought. His rifle barked as it spat a 20mm round towards the figure, it hit right where the wing met the shoulder. The figure was sent sprawling from the kinetic energy.
Jan and Admiral Mullen had finally managed to drag the wounded body of Soren Altman to the evacuation area, and the fact that Altman had yet to be evacuated after spending hours in the casualty clearing area spoke to how badly the evacuation was going. Only half of the Rangers that had landed to evacuate the Delta Site's personnel were still in any condition to continue fighting the assailants, and if it wasn't for the Royal Marines that had been brought in as last minute reserves from the HMS Illustrious, Jan suspected they'd all be dead right now.
Even with the Royal Marines, the situation was tenuous at best, the landing zone's perimeter had contracted to a slightly oval area with a diameter of just less than a 150 meters. Medics and Corpsman were working furiously to stabilize injured and wounded personnel for evacuation, but Jan knew most would never leave the icy shores of Antarctica.
Whoever was attacking them, had weapons and tactics Jan had never encountered before. He'd seen unearthly shapes moving in the gloom of the storm, firing off what could best be described as lasers and machine guns at the Delta Site defenders before fading away. And even when their assailants were hit by return weapons fire, it only seldom seemed to be causing any harm.
The .50 calibre mounted weapons they'd stripped off of the Ospreys and Seahawks in desperation had proven marginally more effective than they're standard issue weapons, it still took multiple hits from the .50 cals to keep the enemy down for good.
An Air Force Combat Controller had been directing non-stop fire support missions and air strikes from Navy Hornets, Jan marveled at his composure and concentration as Ospreys and Seahawks were guided through wave after wave of incoming fast jets firing off hideous amounts of ordnance.
Mullen had made the unenviable decision to prioritise the evacuation of all the salvaged data and material from Object Alpha, before the wounded and casualties. Jan wasn't sure he'd would have been able to give the same order, but that was why he was a Sergeant and Mullen an Admiral.
Then again if they could gain access to even a fraction of what was being used against them now, the situation on earth could change quite drastically.
A hint of movement in Jan's peripheral caught his attention, he pivoted to face it, and before him appeared a one-winged figure, now with a slight stutter to its step.
Twin booms followed twin impacts.
So that's what being shot felt like.
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June 12, 2010
Antarctica
Landing Zone X-Ray, Delta Site
From where he was helping load wounded onto an Osprey, Beast saw Jan get hit by enemy fire, swearing to himself, he carefully laid the soldier he was carrying into a web seat.
Turning, Beast leaped from the Osprey and grabbed his Multiple Grenade Launcher and sprinted as fast as he could. Jan's target wasn't moving either, for now Beast focused on his wounded friend. Carefully supporting Jan's neck, Beast turned the Sergeant onto his back, and wiped away blood from Jan's face and neck. Beast drew a relieved breath, the round seemed to have hit Jan's anti-material rifle, and the plate carrier had absorbed most of the shrapnel. There were multiple shallow wounds bleeding profusely on Jan's face, but other than a few gnarly scars, Jan would be fine.
The sound of ice and snow being compacted caused Beast's adrenaline to surge. He exhaled slowly, and stood up from his crouch, reached for his MGL, Beast spun around and brought up the grenade launcher to his shoulder. Before he could aim at the rapidly closing monster, it lashed out with its arm. The impact hit Beast square in the chest and sent him flying backwards, over Jan.
Beast tried to get up as quickly as possible, but was slowed considerably by his now broken ribs. With gritted teeth, and holding his left arm over his ribs, Beast managed to finally get back to his feet. Beast's assailant stood, mute a few meters from him. And it looked like something from the stories his Grandmother scared him with in his childhood. It towered over Beast, standing on digitigrade legs, one wing torn off, the other flicking up and down in agitation. Each arm ended in wicked claws, and two red, baleful eyes, staring, at Beast. The creature took a step towards Beast, and then another.
It seemed to be savouring the moment.
The monstrosity noticed the grenade launcher lying between itself and Beast, before taking another step over the MGL, now just three or four steps from being within easy reach of Beast.
Beast started praying, he wasn't sure if anyone was listening, but it seemed like the right thing to do.
Suddenly an arm appeared around the thing's neck, trying to drag it down. The monster now no longer in control of the situation started twisting and turning, trying to break free of the grasp. Beast could see Jan was now clinging on the creature's back with his left arm and was doing something furiously with his right. The creature's foot knocked the MGL even further away from Beast, but Beast used the distraction Jan was causing to try and grab hold of the weapon. Diving, all Beast fumbled, able to only knock the MGL even further and further away.
Beast could hear Jan start screaming as the monster managed to grab hold of Jan's left arm. With a terrible tearing noise, the claws bit into Jan's arm, the creature pulled Jan off its back and threw him towards Beast.
A raspy voice boomed from the monster "Now you pitiful Fragiles die. Painfully"
Jan sat up, his left arm torn to ribbons, smiling at the monster through a bloody mouth with missing teeth. "Not today Mother******" and held up a small remote detonator in his right hand.
The creature cocked it's head in confusion.
Jan pressed down on the detonator.
The C4 wedged between the creature's back and wing exploded.
The force of the explosion threw Jan and Beast back, the explosion blew out their ear drums and the wind from their lungs.
Of the monster there was nothing left but a large crater.
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"Yippie Yah Yei Schweinebacke!"
(that is the German translation)
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June 12, 2010
Antarctica
Last Osprey leaving the Delta Site
Ortega had helped two South African soldiers board the last Osprey before taking one of the few remaining open seats in the troop compartment. Miles could feel the exhaustion threaten to overwhelm him, but he still had one final job to do.
He dialed into the tactical channel from his combat controller rig: "This is Combat Controller 2, the Delta Site LZ is clear. Repeat the Delta LZ is clear. Evacuation is complete. All incoming flights, you are weapons free. I repeat you are weapons free."
Miles sat back. And breathed in, and out. The realization of what had just happened finally set in. There were over 5,000 scientists and civilian contractors at the Delta Site. Less than half of 5,000 were evacuated. Fewer than a third of the almost 1,000 soldiers and military personnel involved in guarding the Delta Site, and then later acting as a relief force survived to board the evacuation flights. Miles had never left the landing zone, but he's seen units of Rangers and Royal Marines dive back into the Delta Site time after time to find survivors. The Ranger and Royal Marine units had endured horrific casualties, and the units kept dwindling until they were forced to combine the remaining soldiers into ad-hoc elements.
Admiral Mullen remained standing, keeping himself upright with one of the hand holds running along the top of the troop compartment. The Admiral had been the last person to step onto the Osprey, he could have been one of the first to be evacuated. But he'd stayed to the end. The Admiral had said it was his responsibility, he'd issued the order that had delayed the evacuation of personnel while all salvage and research material had been moved first. The Admiral looked worn out. Miles followed the Admiral's gaze, there in the distance - visible in the fading storm - was Object Alpha. The massive alien construct that had started this entire series of events. Its ovoid shape concealed by the distant ice shelves of Antarctica.
The Admiral turned away from Object Alpha as the rear door started to close, Miles made eye contact with the older man. There were tears in the Admiral's eyes.
Suddenly white light streamed into the troop compartment. Miles instinctively recoiled, trying to shield his eyes. The tactical net exploded into life as everyone tried to figure out what had just happened. Mullen pushed past Miles to get to the cockpit of the Osprey. Buffeting started shaking the Osprey, growing more and more violent.
The tactical net suddenly went quiet, and then he heard a one of the F-18 Growlers repeat: "Object Alpha is gone. Just a massive crater. Looks like a low-level nuclear device. Low-level kiloton range."
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Ouch... that certainly wasn't expected...
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June 29, 2010
The BBC
Evening News
The newscaster shuffles through her papers and looks into the camera.
"The United Nations has finally called a press conference to announce the results of the investigation into the events surrounding the Antarctica Incident. We go now live to our New York Correspondent, Jim Sykes..."
The feed switches to the Spokesperson for the Secretary-General of the United Nations standing behind a podium, framed by the General-Assembly Building, the early morning sun lights the scene.
"Thank you for your patience ladies and gentlemen, the independent team of Investigators have provided the Secretary-General and the General Assembly with a full report of the cause of what has now been dubbed the Antarctica Incident.
An experimental nuclear-powered research ship suffered an unexpected failure with its reactor cooling system..."
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Ooh, they're trying to hide it... We'll see how THAT works out for them... ::)
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November 19, 2010
Al Jazeera
Morning News
The young newscaster opens his folder, before adjusting his tie, and then looking into the camera:
"Breaking news, Egypt has suffered another terrorist attack. Gunmen entered the main market square in Cairo and opened fire with automatic weapons and grenades. Casualty estimates are high. The group known as يد السيد or The Hand of the Master have claimed responsibility. This would the eighth such attack in the last nine weeks..."
*
December 5, 2010
The Guardian
Front Page
The United Nations forced into action at last
After the sixth consecutive week of terrorist attacks by the group known as The Hand of the Master, the United Nations has announced the creation of Task Force 1. This will be a multinational force, with member nations contributing personnel, weaponry and logistics to this new combined initiative. The Task Force will be commanded by United States Navy Admiral Michael Mullen. Most notably the Task Force has been given a mandate to track down and eliminate the threat posed by The Hand of the Master across multinational borders. This cross-continental jurisdictional is the first of its kind given to a military task force...
*
March 19th, 2011
Bloomberg Technology
The Shifting Work Show
The young journalist looks stunned as replica of a human arm with a green-looking muscle structure lifts well over 100 kilograms in an arm curl.
An older scientist gestures excitedly towards the demonstration: "And this is Myomer! Think of it as an artificial musculature that just needs an electric current to expand and contract! No need for hydraulics or any other structures!"
The journalist turns to the scientist: "And the uses for this are wide-ranging?"
The scientists starts bouncing: "Indeed! Indeed! Imagine being able to replace bulk heavy lifting equipment with a mobile, agile and powerful bipedal construct! Or helping an amputee with a replacement for a lost limb that actually functions like the lost limb, not just an approximation! Endless possibilities!"
The journalist turns back to the demonstration: "And this was developed at the United Nations Scientific Bureau?"
The scientist finally manages to contain some of his excitement "Indeed! And this is just one of the multitude of wondrous things that we are working on at the Think Tank! The future is here!"
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June 12, 2011
Task Force 1
Flight deck of USS Enterprise
Atlantic ocean, en-route to the Middle East
The early morning air was brisk, Mullen was thankful he'd decided to wear a parka. Even as high as the prow of the Enterprise was, the spray from the ocean still managed to douse Mullen in freezing, salt water.
He couldn't believe a year had passed since that night in Antarctica, the world had changed so much, and yet the world hadn't changed at all. The United Nations had stood together united like never before, Task Force 1 and the United Nations Scientific Bureau were a testament to the determination of humanity. And yet the wider world still didn't know that Earth was but one inhabited world of many hundreds of thousands. That the terrorist organisation that Mullen's task force was tracking wasn't a new incarnation of Al-Qaeda, but a rather a network of sleeper cells created by a galaxy-spanning religious order that sought to keep humanity primitive and uneducated.
A tap on his shoulder drew him out of his thoughts, the now-recovered Soren Altman offered Mullen a hip flask, by the smell of it Soren hadn't stopped drinking the cheap Scandinavian spirits despite the multiple requests of his physician. Mullen took the flask from his closest friend and drank deeply, before handing it back. Soren drank deeply. And then poured the remainder into the ocean below.
"For those that cannot be here with us today."
Mullen nodded sadly. He still had nightmares of that night, and if it wasn't for his prescription of sleeping pills he probably wouldn't be functional right now. Soren bore more physical scars from that night, and still walked with a distinct limp.
Both men took one last look out over the grey ocean, before turning back for the warmth of the Enterprise's interior.
"I understand that there have been delays with your fusion reactor designs?" Mullen asked the scientist.
Soren scratched his newly grown beard with gusto "You could say that. The larger-sized reactors are going to be easier to mass produce, and it won't be affecting the timelines of Project Prometheus in the least. In fact we may even soon be able to ramp up production of the biggest units to allow us to begin using them for civilian power generation."
Mullen grunted and nodded his head.
"However, the miniaturisation of the fusion reactors, as well as armouring them to allow for use in smaller-scale military applications is proving to be especially problematic. At this point it is unlikely that we'll even come close to having prototypes ready for Project Minuteman by the end of the year."
Mullen grunted again. Project Prometheus was important, but he was less concerned about space, they could still resort to the rather liberal use of nuclear warheads if need be. On the ground however, that was a different story. And that was where the difference in technology was causing Task Force 1 significant casualties. On more than one occasion fire teams had had to resort to multiple artillery strikes and air support to even come close to achieving their objectives. Collateral damage had been significant.
Mullen opened the hatch for Soren "What are your recommendations?"
Soren looked unhappy about what he was about to say: "Switch to alternative power sources, for now. Redesigns will be needed, but those won't take as long. We can have prototypes in the field for testing by November. Combat Walker System-1 can be with test teams by December."
Mullen mulled over this, that was still 6 months way, but he'd rather have some of this units start deploying BattleMechs in the field soon, even if they were not the intended designs, than much later. They had already been struggling to find enough willing volunteers that were compatible with the neurohelmets needed to keep the giant machines upright. "Alright, let's get to it. I'll cut the orders for the deployment of the CWS-1s as well for the formation of the test teams. We need these in the field as soon as possible."
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The "larger systems" would also be quite useful for ships too... and in 2010, there's a CVN being "refueled"...
BTW, I've seen the real Admiral Mullen in action (I was sitting off screen on the VTC). He's quite impressive. Glad to see you picked him as a protagonist! :thumbsup:
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This is developing nicely so far. Thanks for sharing.
Always Antarctica. I suppose the WoB is no worse than Anubis ;D
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This is developing nicely so far. Thanks for sharing.
Always Antarctica. I suppose the WoB is no worse than Anubis ;D
Thank you so much for the feedback! It really means a great deal.
In hindsight there does seem to be startling similarities between Anubis and The Master! 😮
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The "larger systems" would also be quite useful for ships too... and in 2010, there's a CVN being "refueled"...
BTW, I've seen the real Admiral Mullen in action (I was sitting off screen on the VTC). He's quite impressive. Glad to see you picked him as a protagonist! :thumbsup:
That's so cool! I'm really jealous.
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Volcanoes are so 20th century. Antarctica is much cooler :thumbsup:
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November 29th, 2011
Helmand, Afghanistan
Hill 576
Lieutenant Eugene Klopper carefully moved his CWS-1 through the rocky outcroppings dotted throughout Hill 576. The 25-ton 'mech was pretty stable even on the difficult terrain of Helmand, but he'd rather not fall over in front of the platoon of Marines that he was supporting. There was already enough teasing about riding around in a giant tin-can, no need to add clumsy to the laundry list of insults and jokes.
The claustrophobic cockpit and heavy neurohelmet only added to sense of confinement, the heat of the midday sun was quickly turning the air around Eugene into a sauna. The cooling vest gurgled and provided some relief, but it was easy to feel overwhelmed. Eugene instead directed his attention to his wingman for today, the young and inexperienced Second Lieutenant Gregory O'Brien. O'Brien was moving his CWS-1 a great more sure-footedly, his natural talent piloting 'mechs was clear, but he still needed a great of seasoning. Which is why their company commander had paired Eugene and O'Brien together. Eugene was already at the end of his second tour of duty with Task Force 1, and had been piloting 'mechs in the field for the last two months.
He'd seen scant action in that time, other than acting as overwatch for various Marine and Ranger teams, and occasionally chasing down tangos that had managed to slip out of the cordons.
The CWS-1 or Combat Walk System-1 was the first 'mech that Task Force 1 had actively deployed, and while the two machine guns - one mounted on each arm - were hardly considered heavy firepower, the CWS-1 itself was invulnerable to most infantry weapons and even some vehicle mounted weapons. And being able to scale the difficult terrain of Helmand alongside the Poor Bloody Infantry had quickly endeared the tin cans to those it gave fire support to.
Today the two CWS-1s and the platoon of Marines were performing a final sweep of Hill 576 before moving onto the next sector. The Second Lieutenant commanding the platoon of Marines signalled a stop to the column, before waving the hand signal that showed he wanted to talk directly with Eugene. Obliging, Eugene switched to the Marine frequency with a flick of his thumb on the right joystick on the CWS-1 control column.
"I read five-by-five Jenkins, what can I do you for?"
"My boys found an entrance to cave system around the next bend, we're pretty sure it wasn't there last week, I'm going to send in a squad, if you could offer overwatch, that would be greatly appreciated" the Marine officer inquired.
Technically as the senior officer on the mission, Eugene should have been the one issuing the order, but he'd served in the Infantry, and left the job of soldiering the Marines to those experienced in the matters of the grunt.
"Copy-that Jenkins, I'll have O'Brien move up into overwatch, I'll stay with the rest of the Marines just in case..." Eugene had made sure to tie-in O'Brien into the conversation and the Second Lieutenant was moving into position before Eugene had finished the conversation with Jenkins. O'Brien had a lot of potential, if only he'd lose some of his eagerness to please absolutely everyone he met.
"Much appreciated Klopper, this shouldn't take too long, we're just going to have a peek and then we'll be collapsing this entrance with extreme prejudice!"
Eugene laughed to himself, Marines truly did enjoy the use of explosives in all shapes and sizes. Especially, especially large quantities. Eugene switched to the comm channel that he and O'Brien shared.
"Okay Greg, keep a close eye on the lads, they know what they're doing, and they'll let you know if they need help."
"Roger Roger Lieutenant!"
There were a few snickers and even outright laughter from the comm net, O'Brien hadn't switched away from the wider comm net before replying. Eugene was sure he could see the young Irishman blushing through the cockpit armour.
Eugene moved his CWS-1 to cover the rest of the Marine platoon as they spread out and setup firing position. By now they'd all learned it paid to be vigilant even if it meant a bit of sweat.
The time seem to crawl by, the heat in the cockpit only getting worse, the CWS-1 could easily handle temperatures well into 50 degrees Celsius, it's human pilot though would not enjoy it as much.
The squelch of an incoming transmission suddenly snapped Eugene's attention back to the cave entrance, a single Marine ran out, the HUD of the CWS-1 immediately pinged it at as one of the senior corporals - Henriques - and opened the transmission. Eugene could hear he was out of breath.
"Lieutenant Klopper, we've engaged heavily armed tangos in the cave system, the LT and three others have been wounded, we're pulling out as quickly as we can, but we're going to have the baddies right on our tails!"
O'Brien's CWS-1 immediately moved to allow it an unrestricted field of fire into the tunnel entrance. Good Lad, Eugene thought to himself while he switched to the Company Command Net.
"This is Patrol 2-1 to Company Command, we've engaged hostiles on Hill 576, we will hold positions and prepare to engage hostiles. We have Marine casualties and will need immediate casevac, repeat we have four casualties and will require casevac. We will mark landing zone with beacons. I am also requesting that artillery and air support be made available."
There was a moment of silence. Sweat was now running down Eugene's face, the controls of the CWS-1 were slick from moisture.
"This is Bravo-Actual" the company commander was replying "Understood, casevac inbound. Artillery and air assets are standing by. Fourth Platoon is 10 clicks away, I am ordering them to move to assist. Expect them from the south-west. Keep me in the loop Patrol 2-1."
Eugene now watched as the Marines started streaming out of the tunnel entrance, they were dragging Jenkins and the other wounded out first, the remaining Marines were doing their best to give cover fire. Another Marine dropped as rounds hammered into his chest. A Lance Corporal ran towards the downed Marine from his prepared position and dragged the wounded soldier into cover.
The Henriques came onto the comm net again "We're clear LT, we are clear. You are weapons free!"
O'Brien didn't need any further prompting and opened fire with his twin machine guns. The fire stitched the ground, before tracking into the mouth of the tunnel. The incoming fire slackened before dropping off entirely.
"That's it! We got them beat!" O'Brien shouted excitedly and before Eugene could chastise him and keep him focused a shadowy figure stepped out from the tunnel and lifted a tube to its shoulder.
Eugene barely had time to shout a warning as the tube sparked and fired. The rocket flew true and hit the cockpit of O'Brien's CWS-1. Eugene relaxed as he saw the rocket impacting the cockpit and not causing any damage. And then suddenly the head of the CWS-1 was shrouded in flames as it started burning. The Marines started opening fire at the tunnel entrance, but the figure had already faded back into the darkness.
O'Brien starting panicking, Eugene could hear the stress levels increase in his voice. "I'm on fire! I'm on fire! I'm buuuurning!" O'Brien chocked.
Eugene took a steadying breathe, it wouldn't help O'Brien to hear the panic in his voice "Greg, its an Inferno rocket, you trained for this! Remember your training. Your cockpit is sealed and is NBC-safe. You are safe from the flames. Just sit tight. Let the Inferno gel burn out!"
"It's getting hotter Eugene! It's so hot in here! I'm going to eject!"
Eugene screamed back "No! Wait!"
But before he could scream anything further the explosive bolts around O'Brien's cockpit fired and sent the armoured canopy flying. For a moment the flames abated, but then surged into the cockpit, coating every surface inside the head of the CWS-1. Including O'Brien.
It took Eugene a horrified moment to realise O'Brien was still alive as the ejection seat fired, the Inferno-gel coated MechWarrior was catapulted into the air. The screaming didn't stop until the ejection seat reached its zenith, and tried to deploy the parachutes. The Inferno-gel had damaged the chute and it barely slowed the fall as the seat impacted the ground less than 20 meters from Eugene's CWS-1.
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Ouch. So WoB handed tech over to the Taliban types? That'll get uglier.
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Clearly they're going to need to do more training with Infernos... Something like the gas chamber for the infantry.
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Will we see stats for this 'mech?
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Will we see stats for this 'mech?
I'll upload the stats tonight along with the next part of the story. :)
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Clearly they're going to need to do more training with Infernos... Something like the gas chamber for the infantry.
I suspect that there will be gaps in Task Force 1's field training for some time yet.
Out of curiosity, do you know how effective that part of training is for soldiers subjected to it? Is it something that helps those that went through it to cope with those additional stresses?
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I don't know the stats, but if it was ineffectual, I'm pretty sure we wouldn't keep doing it.
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I see mech warriors like tankers, unwilling to leave their ride.
I like the story, but the pilot would have likely received training in at least simulation for a fire attacks.
Depending on stress levels , fatigue, length and intensity of deployments, a response can happen but it is not much different than a RPG attack.
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I see mech warriors like tankers, unwilling to leave their ride.
I like the story, but the pilot would have likely received training in at least simulation for a fire attacks.
Depending on stress levels , fatigue, length and intensity of deployments, a response can happen but it is not much different than a RPG attack.
I am glad that you like the story! Any and all feedback really helps me.
When your force of 'mechs is only a few months old, and you're making most of it up as you go along, some corners may be cut. :)
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Combat Walker System CWS-1
Mass: 20 tons
Tech Base: Inner Sphere (Primitive)
Chassis Config: Biped IndustrialMech
Rules Level: Era Specific
Era: All Eras (non-canon)
Tech Rating/Era Availability: D/X-X-F-A
Production Year: 2750
Cost: 568,785 C-Bills
Battle Value: 122
Chassis: CWS-1a Primitive Industrial
Power Plant: Caterpillar C7 350 hp 75 Primitive I.C.E. Engine
Walking Speed: 32.4 km/h
Maximum Speed: 54.0 km/h
Jump Jets: None
Jump Capacity: 0 meters
Armor: High-hardness steel Commercial
Armament:
1 .50 6-Barrel-version GAU-19
1 .50 3-Barrel-version GAU-19
1 General Dynamics Power and Data Management Architecture Communications Equipment (1.0 tons)
Manufacturer: UNSB Test Facility #2
Primary Factory: Munich, Germany
Communications System: Motorloa Military Commnet
Targeting and Tracking System: Motorola FCS
Overview:
The failure of the prototype Defender Mk. 0 almost spelled the end of Project
Minuteman. It was only the direct, personal intervention by Dr Soren Altman
that kept the Project from being shuttered entirely and its resources diverted
to Project Prometheus.
The Combat Walker System was a more conservative design, weighing 25 tons, and
eventually only being armed modestly. The CWS-1 would allow Task Force 1 to
start deploying 'mechs in the field months earlier than expected and gain
valuable experience in the logistics and doctrine that would be needed to
deploy 'mechs successfully.
Capabilities:
The CWS-1 would only ever be armed with a machine gun in each arm, but its
expanded communications equipment would prove to be its greatest strength and
ensure it would continue to see active deployment long after it was intended to
be phased out for newer designs.
The CWS-1 was neither a very sophisticated nor advanced design. The scientists
and engineers working on Project Minuteman designed the 'mech with only the
most easily and quickly replicateable components. The armour, weapons, engine,
and other sub-systems used made the design obsolete before it was even fielded.
It would be replaced within months by the Defender Mk.1 and the even more
advanced Guardian Mk.1 as the primary 'mech of Task Force 1.
The concept of the CWS-1 would be refined and upgraded into the more successful
Hound.
Battle History:
The CWS-1 was only ever intended as a stop-gap design, and would see less than
a year of active deployment.
As Task Force 1's first 'mech to be deployed it would participate in a number
of small skirmishes and holding actions against The Hand of the Master.
Supporting infantry forces the CWS-1 would most often act as a strong point
from which infantry could engage defensive positions. Moving forward with the
infantry to provide suppression and cover fire. And when needed, pinpoint
artillery fire and air support.
The SeeWhiz and the MechWarriors piloting them would become beloved by the infantry
they supported. During the Battle of Geneva the CWS-1s attached to the 59th
Infantry Division charged Word of Blake forces to buy time for the surviving
infantry to withdraw. Not a single CWS-1 survived.
Variants:
A number of field-deployed CWS-1s had their 3-Barrel GAU-19 replaced with a 6-Barrel GAU-19. The additional weight meant less ammunition could be
carried but the additional firepower was considered a worthwhile trade-off,
especially agains the especially hardy Hand of the Master infantry.
================================================================================
Equipment Type Rating Mass
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Internal Structure: Primitive Industrial 33 points 4.00
Engine: Primitive I.C.E. Engine 75 4.00
Walking MP: 3
Running MP: 5
Jumping MP: 0
Heat Sinks: Single Heat Sink 0 0.00
Gyro: Standard 1.00
Cockpit: Primitive Industrial 5.00
Actuators: L: SH+UA+LA+H R: SH+UA+LA+H
Armor: Commercial (BAR: 5) AV - 60 2.50
Internal Armor
Structure Factor
Head 3 8
Center Torso 6 8
Center Torso (rear) 2
L/R Torso 5 8
L/R Torso (rear) 1
L/R Arm 3 5
L/R Leg 4 7
================================================================================
Equipment Location Heat Critical Mass
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Communications Equipment (1.0 tons) (1.0 tons) HD 0 1 1.00
Light Machine Gun RA 0 1 0.50
Machine Gun LA 0 1 0.50
@LMG (200) RA - 1 1.00
@MG (1/2) (100) LA - 1 0.50
Free Critical Slots: 42
BattleForce Statistics
MV S (+0) M (+2) L (+4) E (+6) Wt. Ov Armor: 1 Points: 1
3 1 1 0 0 1 0 Structure: 2
Special Abilities: SRCH, EE
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Hmm... I've thought of the 'mech scale machine gun more as the GAU-19 than the M2 HB. I have a bit of discussion on that here: https://bg.battletech.com/forums/index.php?topic=55497.0
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Hmm... I've thought of the 'mech scale machine gun more as the GAU-19 than the M2 HB. I have a bit of discussion on that here: https://bg.battletech.com/forums/index.php?topic=55497.0
Ah! That makes a great deal more sense to me! Thank you for sharing!
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No problem! By switching to a GAU-19/M2 HB combination, you also simplify logistics by only having one kind of ammunition.
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November 29th, 2011
Helmand, Afghanistan
Forward Operating Base Victor-4
Eugene sat on the foot of his CWS-1, one leg hanging off the CWS-1, his neurohelmet on his lap, his right hand drumming a nameless rhythm on the helmet. A prime hauler slowly drove by, on it O'Brien's CWS, with its scorched head. Eugene turned his head slowly to follow the massive truck as it trundled past.
A Sergeant walked up to Eugene: "Lieutenant, they are ready for you in the debrief."
Eugene turned to look at the Sergeant. A few seconds passed as the stare continued. The Sergeant started to fidget. "Guess I better not keep the waiting eh Sergeant?" The question was entirely rhetorical. The Lieutenant had hopped off the foot and headed towards the debriefing room before the Sergeant could answer.
*
A few hours later Eugene was sitting in the canteen, listlessly moving his dinner around the plate. Eugene was pretty sure by now his food was cold, but he couldn't really be bothered to check.
A voice invaded Eugene's solitude: "Mind if I join you Lieutenant?"
Eugene looked up and saw an officer in the desert digital BDU he himself wore. On his collars were the silver bars of First Lieutenant, a rolled red beret was tucked into the shoulder strap, and his name tag read Ortega.
"You are more than welcome Lieutenant." Eugene indicated the open seat across from him. "I'm afraid I may not be the best company at the moment." Ortega nodded his head in thanks.
"I was sorry to hear about O'Brien, its never easy losing a comrade."
A flash of anger ran through Eugene: "What do you know of losing a comrade?"
Ortega just smiled sadly: "Too much I'm afraid, I was at Antarctica."
Eugene's anger was replaced with embarrassment: "I'm deeply sorry, please accept my apologies!"
Ortega made a calming gesture with his hands "There's nothing to forgive Lieutenant, and please call me Miles" and he offered his hand to Eugene across the table. Eugene took the offered handshake.
"Thank you Miles. Eugene. Pleased to meet you."
"And you too Eugene." Miles then proceeded to assault his food with great gusto and determination. Miles looked up embarrassed "I've been in the field for a few weeks, and this is the first hot food I've had in awhile!"
Eugene smiled: "No please, don't let my poor mood keep you for your dinner."
In a surprisingly short span of time Miles had demolished the contents of his tray of food and leaned back contentedly in his chair. "You know, none of what happened to O'Brien is your responsibility"
A frown returned to Eugene's face "So they keep telling, not entirely sure I believe the higher-ups, or you. No offence meant of course."
Miles shook his head sadly "That feeling won't go away for some time. We keep reliving those moments over and over again. And it can drive us mad if we let it." Miles paused for a moment and looked away into the distance "But it doesn't change the fact that if O'Brien had followed his training he probably wouldn't have done what he had done. And he would probably have survived. Some of us just aren't meant to be soldiers. All the training in the world can't instil in us the temperament to be killers. To face our enemy head on and emerge as the survivors. Of course they don't tell you that when they recruit us. And they try to train and drill into each of us the skills we need to survive. But sometimes we don't cut it. And sometimes even the best of us just get unlucky."
Miles stood up from the table and picked up his empty tray. "And I know you will continue to beat yourself up about this for a long time. Just as I did after Antarctica. If any of what happened was your fault the higher-ups wouldn't be shipping you to Munich with me and a bunch us mudslingers." Miles gestured to the building around them: "This is all a side-show, trust me. There is a much bigger, more important game afoot. And if you were as bad at what you did as you think you are, they wouldn't be entrusting you with what is to come."
Mile's cryptic response was puzzling to Eugene, how was what was happening in Afghanistan the side-show? Before he could ask the Lieutenant what he was talking about he was already marching off with nothing but a jaunty wave over his shoulder as a good-bye.
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You got that one right... it's very easy to get lost in the tactical details and not see the big picture. Sometimes that happens to senior officers too... :-\
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November 30th, 2011
Munich, Germany
Task Force 1 HQ
12-hours ago Eugene had basically been in the middle-of-nowhere at a remote Forward Operating Base, now he stood on the tarmac of a runway in Germany. Wearing the Service Uniform that Task Force 1 had adopted from the USMC, Eugene felt out of place amongst the other officers and enlisted personnel wearing their BDUs. From the bags each of them carried, Eugene assumed that they were also being transferred to the HQ.
Eugene had flown from Helmand to Berlin on-board a massive C-5 transport, before switching to a smaller Osprey for the flight to Munich. The Osprey had landed, and disembarked the personnel it carried onto the tarmac, the crew chief seemed particularly excited about offloading the soldiers. Almost a tad too excited for simply ferrying personnel around Eugene thought to himself. Eugene could feel the ground start to rumble beneath his feet, and looking around he saw similar confused looks on everyone's faces. The crew chief's s**t-eating grin even bigger. And the way he wagged his eyebrows at Eugene was decidedly insubordinate.
And that's when the ground started to lower.
Eugene stood agape as a 20 meter by 20 meter platform lowered into the ground, it started to grow darker as a pair of blast doors started to slide closed above their heads. As the last of the light faded, floodlights came on one by one, replacing the outside sunlight.
The platform finally stopped moving. The wall to the front of the Osprey started to rise. A Colonel stepped through onto the platform and smiled: "Welcome to Task Force 1's new Headquarters facility." Behind the Colonel, Eugene saw a vast facility stretch into the distance. Personnel moving around conducting maintenance and inspections, vehicles ferrying armaments and cargo. The smiling Colonel continued "My apologies for the theatrics. A small prank to welcome those new to the HQ. I am Colonel Frederick Mayweather, and I command the 85th Striker Regiment, to which you have been assigned. We are to be the tip of the spear for Task Force 1. We will find those that mean to do us harm, and we will eliminate them. And these..." the Colonel turned around and lifted his arms "will be our armoured fist." Two massive armoured shapes stepped from either side of the wide door onto the platform. Eugene felt his jaw drop.
The 'mechs that stood before them were considerably taller, and more imposing that the CWS-1s that he was used to. If Eugene had to guess it was at least twice as heavy as the CWS-1 and was considerably better armed and armoured. A long-barrelled weapon was mounted over its right shoulder, the left chest had what appeared to be some sort of missile system and a familiar GAU-19 peaked out from a housing mounted on the left forearm.
The Colonel turned back to the personnel on the platform: "This is the Guardian. The latest design to come out of the United Nations Scientific Bureau. 50-tons, top-speed of 64km/h, armed with a 120 mm Rheinmetall L/55 smoothbore gun mounted in a gyro-stablised mount over the right shoulder. In the left-hand side of the chest is a 15-pack of Zuni rockets with a GAU-19 rounding out the armament."
Where the CWS-1 was almost scarecrow like in its visage, barely enough armour covering vital components; the Guardian looked sleek and advanced, even deadly.
"The egg-heads have made some impressive advances in the last few months, and I'm told we may even be getting upgraded power plants soon. For now it uses the same MB 873 Ka-501 liquid-cooled V12 twin-turbo diesel engine as the Leopard 2. Anyway, let's get all of you settled in, we have much to do!"
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Nice. Has the primary armament graduated to AutoCannon 5/10 classes? Or is it still considered a Rifle Cannon?
I figured the really heavy AutoCannon classes would be comparable to what we currently mount on naval warships such as Oto Melaras.
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In my head-canon I've got the 105mm to 120mm cannons being roughly equivalent to a medium rifle with the larger 125mm and up cannons being Heavy Rifles. I'm not going to pretend know enough about modern projectiles to draw direct parallels.
As the in-universe Earth-tech starts to catch up the Guardian and similar designs will probably be switching to AC5 / LAC5, since its a 1-to-1 swap.
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December 18th, 2011
Munich, Germany
Task Force 1 Proving Grounds
Day 3 of Exercise Red vs Blue I
Eugene walked his Guardian, careful to avoid the ancient trees that dwarfed his 'mech, in formation with the rest of his platoon of three Guardians. This was the first battalion-sized exercise that he'd ever participated in, and it was slightly daunting. The first two operational Battalions of the 85th Striker Regiment were being pitted against each. The 100 km proving ground swallowed the two battalions whole and ensured that there was enough space for some manoeuvring. The two battalions were pitted against the each other in a massive game of King of the Hill. Whoever could hold most of a chain of hillocks by the end of the 3-day exercise would win.
The first day had largely been uneventful with First Battalion - led personally by Colonel Mayweather - and Second Battalion - commanded by Major Hugh Humphries - carefully probing each other's lines, looking for any weak spots. The few skirmishes that had taken place had been inconclusive and the damage to the 'mech forces involved had been light.
Early afternoon on Day 2 had brought the first major engagement as Major Humphries had thought he'd managed to pin down the Colonel in a vulnerable position and had led his Command Platoon and most of Delta Company on a head-hunting mission. Colonel Mayweather had sprung his trap and caught Major Humphries in a massive artillery barrage wiping out his entire Command Platoon along with Dog Platoon. David and Damascus Platoons had managed an orderly withdrawal and fallen back to Easy Company's position. Easy Company's commander - Captain Ronald Spiers, the Battalion XO and now de-facto Battalion CO - had taken command and was steadily moving to flank the chain of hillocks. Trying to find an opening that could be leveraged instead of engaging First Battalion head-on.
Eugene - on account of having been selected as Company XO - was now commanding the rump of Easy Company, after Captain Spiers had combined his Echo Platoon with the remaining Delta Company platoons and the Scout Platoon to form a mobile reserve.
Easy Company was screening the reserve with Fox Company pushing along the edge of the military reserve to find the limit of First Battalion's lines.
Each Battalion had been allocated a number of support resources, and Spiers was carefully hoarding his remaining artillery strikes and air support for a vital moment.
Eugene was thankful that the Guardian's cockpit was more spacious than the tiny CWS-1's, at times it had been a struggle to keep his 6' 4" frame limber and comfortable for an extended period. While there were commonalities in the design, the Guardian's controls were more refined and intuitive with a great deal of the sensor and targeting data now being displayed directly on the neurohelments visor, with ancillary data available on the cockpit's multitude of multi-functional displays. Eugene had overlaid the radar and infrared data onto a topographical map on the display to his right, with all of the comm-channels configured on the display on the left.
Now glancing at the right MFD, Eugene noticed that the four Guardians of Ecuador Platoon had become spread out and were falling further and further behind his own Edison Platoon. Eugene switched to the channel reserved for platoon leaders "Lieutenant Simons, tighten it up, your platoon is getting too spread out. You can't have overlapping fields of fire if you can't see each other."
Eugene heard Simons swearing to himself, not loud enough to make out what he's said, but still loud enough for the voice-activated microphone to pick him up. "Understood Lieutenant, we'll tighten it up urgently."
"Uhm... Lieutenant Klopper..."
Eugene switched back to the company-wide comm-channel "Speak up Ecuador-1, your transmission was interrupted."
There was a moment of awkward silence before: "Edison-1, this is Ecuador-1, I'm picking up contacts on my extreme right-flank. At least 4 contacts, looks like they are moving parallel to my platoon."
"Roger that Ecuador-1, we're screening Delta Company, so move your platoon towards the tangos, and we'll follow-up behind to reinforce your position if need me."
"Understood Edison-1, we're moving forward now. Ecuador-1 out."
Eugene change his comms to the battalion net: "This is Edison-1 to Echo-1, we've located at least four tangos on the extreme flank of Ecuador Platoon, we're moving to investigate. I will keep you appraised."
Unexpectedly Captain Spiers replied: "Edison-1, if they've managed to get that far onto our flank they may have figure out what Fox Company is up to, they're position may be compromised. If the tangos engage you, push hard at them. And draw them in. We'll be standing by."
"Orders received and understood Echo-1. Edison-1 out."
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Nice Band of Brothers reference there... ^-^
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Nice Band of Brothers reference there... ^-^
A bit on the nose? :-\
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Nah... Humphries appears to be too competent for that.
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December 18th, 2011
Munich, Germany
Task Force 1 Proving Grounds
Closing hours of Exercise Red vs Blue I
Staff Sergeant Becky Matthis threw her Guardian abruptly to her right, a volley of rockets barely missing her 'mech's shoulder. It took Matthis a few second steps to stabilize her stumbling Guardian. She twisted her torso to guide the targeting reticle onto a closing BlueFor Guardian, and fired the Guardian's 120mm Rheinmetall, the shell plowing into the enemy's already damaged chest. Matthis waited a second, and then fired her last Zuni rockets. The rockets flew true and hit the BlueFor's remaining ammunition. As the opposing Guardian froze where it stood the targeting computer updated to show the unit destroyed by ammo detonation.
A glance down at her sensors showed that there were no more enemy units in the immediate vicinity, and of the remaining Easy and Fox company's forces there were just five 'mechs standing. Her 'mech's control interface started updating to include the remaining unit's designations and status. Lieutenant Klopper's Guardian stood frozen nearby, the victim of a destroyed gyroscope. The Lieutenant stopped his clamber from the cockpit to give the Sergeant a jaunty wave. Matthis replied with a jaunty two-fingered salute of her own.
Matthis was the highest ranking soldier left. "Edison-3 to Echo-1, we've neutralized the BlueFor's push, but we're down to just five remaining 'mechs, all damaged moderately to severely."
"Copy-that Edison-3. You've got additional BlueFor units heading towards you. I need you push up and engage them as quickly as possible. How-copy?"
"I read you Echo-1. We don't have much ammo left, and I doubt we'll be able to keep them busy for too long."
"Roger-that, do your best. Buy me some time."
Matthis thought of a wicked idea, and mad grin spread across her face. "Copy that Captain. You've got the right gal for this job. Edison-3 out."
Matthis switched to her company comm net: "Hey McGinty, you still have that bag-pipe music on you?"
McGinty snorted before replying in his heavy Scottish brogue "Aye Sarge, you want'ta wake the dead?"
"You bet McGinty. Play it loud as you can!"
Mournful Scottish pipe music started filling the comm net, and Matthis piped it through her Guardian's external speakers, which strictly speaking were only to be used for communication with infantry. The rest of her small force followed suit. Matthis suspected this small piece of German forest would never be the same, ever again.
Matthis raised the left arm of her Guardian and pointed in the direction of the distantly approaching enemy units: "Forward the Light Bridge!" and with a whoop sent her 'mech charging forward.
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I like this one! :thumbsup:
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January 24th, 2012
Munich, Germany
Task Force 1 Proving Grounds
Exercise Red vs Blue IV
The large C-17 Globemaster III was barely being buffeted by the high altitude winds over Germany. Miles Ortega glanced around the cargo hold at his fellow airborne troopers. Each trooper was encased in the latest Tornado Power Armour, and they were all itching to give it a try. The MechWarriors, Tankers, and fighter pilots had all been getting new toys to play with, and now, finally, it was the turn of the poor bloody infantry.
Exercise Red vs Blue IV was to be the largest wargame that Task Force 1 had put together. Two full combined-arms regiments from First Division were to defend a city for as long as possible from a multi-national force with units seconded from the US Army, British Army, and the Russian Federation. Each country was fielding small numbers of indigenous 'mech designs supported by tanks and infantry.
The power armoured-infantry in the C-17 would be the pathfinders for the incoming aggressors, dropping in ahead, finding the opposition positions, and generally being a nuisance. Miles was lucky enough to receive a special variant of the Tornado that integrated all of the necessary hardware and communications gear for his role as a combat controller. In the past he would have had to use a radio set to call out coordinates for air support and guide in approaching helicopters. Now with the targeting and tracking gear built into the suit, he could share data directly with the planes above. There was a touchscreen built into the left forearm of the suit that would let Miles select the ordnance that the artillery and warplanes would drop.
The hold of the C-17 darkened, and a red light came on, that the signal for the troopers to button and fully seal their power armour. Miles put on his own helmet and with the suit immediately started running its own self-diagnostics. The HUD powered on and the light amplification brightened the hold. The IFF system tagged each of his fellow troopers and with a toggle from his gauntlet Miles could even pull up the the status of each trooper and his suit load out. The suit diagnostics came back all green, the HUD now showing a countdown to the HALO drop. Standing up, Miles turned to a Special Forces Sergeant and checked the rigging on his parachute and reserve parachute. A SF Lieutenant checked Miles' gear. The massive cargo door started to inch open. Miles did a final check on his SCAR-H rifle before stowing it on a special clamp on the power armour's back.
The dark of night intruding into the cargo hold. The HUD flashed "GO. GO. GO!" and the troopers bounded towards the door and leapt into the night sky.
This wasn't Miles' first HALO jump, but it was an entirely different experience in power armour. The suit's built-in sensors and communication systems meant that even here, in the middle of free-fall, Miles' had a wealth of information from the troopers around him, and even a distant drone that was scanning the LZ. The suit itself - despite being 400 kilograms - responded instantly to any of Miles' movements. More like a set of BDU's than a slab of armour, myomer, and electronics.
The HUD flashed a warning again, and with a slight whump, deployed a small drogue parachute. Miles' felt the drogue drag the speed of the falling power armour down. The forest below was growing steadily. A small clearing the target for the airborne soldiers. A final warning from the HUD and another - this time larger - whump the main parachute was deployed. A few seconds later Miles' feet touched the ground. The power armour automatically cut the lines to the parachute, as well as disengaging the secondary parachute. The HUD showed that each of the troopers had landed safely, the troopers now moving to cover their respective sectors.
Miles' pulled his SCAR-H from the back of his power armour, the contacts in the gloves of the Tornado connected to the sensors and computer built into the SCAR-H. A targeting reticle appeared on the HUD, showing exactly where the SCAR-H was pointing, as well as the firing options for the battle rifle. Miles' swiped down on the touchscreen mounted on his forearm, and a list of artillery and air assets appeared. Miles' selected the high-altitude drone, and programmed in a new series of way points for it. Sending it off to make sure that the First Division hadn't planned any nasty surprises.
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HELO jump? You mean HALO? ???
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HELO jump? You mean HALO? ???
Yes. :-[
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No worries... it happens to all of us... :)
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Bunch of guys in power armor armed with SCAR rifles and jumping off at high altitude.
All you're missing is a dropzone in the Northwest Pacific.
Standard touch screens don't really do well under the weather. They malfunction when wet.
But hey, sci fi.
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Maybe they're not "standard" touch screens... ^-^
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January 25th, 2012
Munich, Germany
Task Force 1 Proving Grounds
Exercise Red vs Blue IV
The column of 12 Leopard 2A6s rumbled along the narrow, dirt road, winding through the low hills that were just to the north of the mocked-up city that First Division had to defend. A platoon of Defenders acting as the rear guard for the formation. The soldiers of Task Force 1 had nicknamed the ungainly looking 'mech the Gun Tank. Apparently it was a reference to an anime that had a similar looking design. Or so Ortega had been lead to believe. The upper body of a 'mech mated to the hull of a tank. This allowed for a simpler neurohelment to be used with significantly less training than would be needed for the more advanced Hound and Guardian designs.
It was a stopgap solution to allow the United Nations Task Force to field more 'mechs than they would have been able to. The United Nation Scientific Bureau was working round the clock to design and build a new neurohelmet design that was compatible with a greater percentage of the population, but it was slow-going.
The column moved by Ortega and Sergeant Johannen's concealed position, not noticing the pair of soldiers. Ortega ordered his comm system to send a tight-band data transmission in the direction of the rest of their element. Signalling the all-clear for the delivery of the care-package.
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January 26th, 2012
Munich, Germany
Task Force 1 Proving Grounds
Exercise Red vs Blue IV
Spiers just had to open his mouth. He swore silently at himself, and his unnecessary bravado. After the completion of Exercise Red vs Blue III, all of the regiment's senior officers had gotten together at a local brauhaus to celebrate. And as was wont to happen, a bit of light bragging ensued. And Spiers of course just had to point out how he had the most simulated kills amongst all of the officers present. And by quite some margin at that. And Spiers should have known he was in trouble when the Colonel had asked how confident Spiers was in his assertion of his own skill.
And now Spiers found himself strapped into his Guardian, in the cargo bay of a C-5 Galaxy, a few thousand meters up, about to be jettisoned from the C-5. Spiers had been assured by the scientist-types and crew chiefs that this was thoroughly tested and perfectly safe. Spiers just wasn't sure why he'd had to sign a stack of waivers and disclaimers.
Spiers cursed at himself again, this time at this sense of machismo that prevented him from backing out.
And HUD started flashing the countdown. One of his MFDs has running a feed from an external camera on the C-5, and on it he could see the rear cargo door open. At 5 seconds on the countdown a drogue parachute was fired out of the cargo door, and in the distance it deployed, next, a set of solid rocket motors ignited. The countdown hit zero. And the first Guardian was yanked out into the air. Spiers bit into his tongue, his mouth filled with blood. The force of the exit pushed him down into his seat. Suddenly the horizontal force was replaced with a vertical force. The Guardian started to fall. The blood dribbled out of Spiers' mouth. He could still move and feel the entirety of his tongue. This only provided him with a moment of relief as another drogue chute deployed. And another set of rocket motors fired to slow the descent.
The MFD with the external feed showed five other silhouettes falling close to Spiers' Guardian. Now he just hoped the combat engineers would have the landing zone ready in time.
Landing Zone Zulu
Corporal Jean Harry had the biggest smile of his life plastered on his acne-covered face. When the recruiting officer had bragged to Jean that he'd be blowing up all sorts of interesting things, Jean had no idea it would one day include 100 square meters of pristine German forest.
The Lieutenant in charge of the engineering detachment put down the radio handset, and whistled to get Jean's attention. Looking over to the Lieutenant, Jean got the thumbs-up signal. Jean delicately pressed down the remote detonator button. A distant boom disturbed the quiet of the forest, and then a rumble ran through the ground, under Jean's feet.
The Lieutenant picked up a pair of binoculars, and surveyed the clearing, apart from a few obstinate tree trunks, the landing zone had been cleared. Glancing up, the Lieutenant could see the 6 'mechs descending on over-sized parachutes.
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January 31st, 2012
Munich, Germany
Die Feige und Die Birne
Alexis Jamitov stared disdainfully at the Task Force 1 Lieutenant-Colonel sitting across from him. The upmarket restaurant they were seated at was known for its discretion, a place to sign lucrative deals that were better kept out of the public eye.
Jamitov's head of security and personal body guard - Bask Om - had a mirthless grin plastered on his face. His dark sunglasses hiding his eyes, which Alexis knew would be constantly scanning the room for any interruptions, or threats.
The Lieutenant-Colonel messily ate the very expensive steak, while slurping down the whiskey which he no doubt didn't have the palette to truly appreciate. The Havana cigar rested on the ash try, forgotten, for now.
The Lieutenant-Colonel speared another piece of steak before pointed at Alexis: "You should really try this, it's the best steak I've ever had!"
Alexis waved away the suggestion: "My dear Colonel, we're here to celebrate this very special agreement we've reached. You are the man of the hour, it simply wouldn't do for me take anything away from you."
The Lieutenant-Colonel positively beamed. Alexis swallowed away the taste of bile, he really couldn't stand sycophancy, even if he was simply playing a role, and didn't really mean it.
That was the cue for Om to interject: "You did bring what was requested?"
The Lieutenant-Colonel reached a hand into his jacket pocket and withdrew a small flashdisk, he tossed it onto the table. It lay there on the table, for all to see. Alexis could see Bask's shoulders tense, usually the only indication of impending violence. A very slight shake of Alexis' head and Bask relaxed, barely. Bask leaned forward for a packet of sugar which was soon dumped into his untouched coffee. The flashdisk was gone from the table. The Lieutenant-Colonel didn't seem to notice.
"Herr-Colonel, and you've done as we asked with the package?"
The Lieutenant-Colonel took a moment to clean his mouth with a napkin, rather fruitlessly.
"Jawol"
Alexis flinched at the terrible accent butchering the German word.
"The latest software glitches your code introduced should ensure even more delays to Phase 2 of Project Prometheus."
Alexis was growing tired of the Lieutenant-Colonel's lack of subtlety. He placated himself by thinking of how Bask would soon ensure the dear Lieutenant-Colonel had an unfortunate accident.
Alexis bowed his head in the Lieutenant-Colonel's direction "As always, I am thankful for your continued co-operation." before standing "Mr Om will take care of the bill. Until next time." and left.
A short while later Bask joined Alexis in SUV, he silently handed over the flashdisk. Alexis was relieved that Bask had taken the time to clean the disk of the fat stains.
Plugging it into his laptop, Alexis started reviewing the final part of the engineering diagrams, specifications and code for the miniaturized military-spec fusion reactor. With this Titan Industries' Project DAGR would leapfrog Task Force 1's own Project Prometheus, and ensure Titan could become the dominant defense contractor.
Bask finally spoke: "Our dear Lieutenant-Colonel will soon experience a rather untimely myocardial infarction."
Alexis barely glanced up from the laptop screen: "And his finances?"
A cruel smile appeared on Bask's face: "Everything will point to our competitors."
"Excellent."
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good to see this back. one point about heavy rifles. might want to go with 130mm (Russian), 138mm (France), 133/5.25inch (Brit), or 140mm
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No shock at all that lyrans stay lyrans...
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No shock at all that lyrans stay lyrans...
Lyrans? Where!?
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May 1st, 2012
Munich, Germany
Task Force 1 HQ
With a deep sigh, Mullen finally lay down on his bed. It was 03h00 in the morning, after a long day of negotiations, haggling, and downright threatening the United Nations Delegates to get the needed funding for Task Force 1. The delegates had finally agreed to expanding the 85th Striker Regiment to a full brigade, and to add two 'mech more battalions to the 18th Light Horse. Of course the compromise had been that the 85th's tanks would be purchased from Germany, and the infantry powered armoured from France. The US would be supplying the artillery and smalls arms. The United Nations Scientific Bureau would release the design to of the compact, combat fusion reactors to the UN Members Nations. That last part galled Mullen, since they'd only finally perfected the design in the last few weeks, but it was inevitable. And as Altman pointed out it wasn't such a bad idea to have more BattleMech manufacturers to purchase from.
Mullen did his best to put it out of his mind, as he turned onto his side, and started the exercise his therapist had recommended, slowly emptying his mind, and thinking of nothing but the sound of rain. Sleep enveloped Mullen in sweet oblivion.
Mullen's eyes snapped open as a loud beep startled him. It took him a moment to realize it was his cellphone beeping for his attention.
The caller ID showed it was from Task Force 1's Operations Center.
Mullen knew his staff would only contact him at this hour if it was urgent, but he couldn't keep the irritation out of his voice:
"What?"
A shaky voice replied: "I'm so sorry to bother you Admiral. We've picked up multiple jump signatures. They're here."
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May 1st, 2012
Munich, Germany
Das Brauhaus
Eugene took another massive swallow of the all too-good German lager. He'd lost track of the number of beers he had, and right now he didn't really care much either. The entire Easy Company were out celebrating their first off-base liberty in what felt like months.
Matthis sauntered up to him, and politely waited for Eugene to finish his beer, before handing him another. The Sergeant had been matching him drink for drink the entire night, and looked considerably more sober then he felt. It has a good night.
The newest addition to his 'mech platoon - a 18-year old recruit from Arkansas - ran up to Eugene and Becky with a great deal of excitement. "Lieutenant, Sergeant, you've gotta see this! It's raining stars outside!"
The youngster promptly ran off to tell more of his colleagues. Eugene shrugged: "What the hell Sergeant, at least we'll be able to make a few wishes." Matthis drained her beer, shrugged and followed.
Stepping outside it took a moment for Eugene's eyes to adapt to the sudden dark. Looking up, his eyes widened in surprise as his saw one shooting star. And another. And then another. Before he could point out to his Matthis how awesome the shooting stars were, Captain Spiers was pulling him back into the bar. His own confusion was mirrored on Matthis' face.
Gunnery Sergeant Hawkins walked over to the juke box, and pulled the plug, killing the music in the bar. Everyone turned to the juke box to try see why the music had stopped.
Spiers spoke loudly: "The Word of Blake is here. HQ picked up at least 8, possibly 10, DropShips on a high speed burn from just outside lunar orbit. Liberty is cancelled. All Task Force 1 personnel are to report back to base ASAP, and prepare for deployment."
Eugene's mouth fell open, he was suddenly feeling very sober.
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10 dropships!! that is going to a heavy landing force.
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and how? I vaguely recall a dropship crash landing in Antarctica that started this AU story (presumably from a misjump of a single ship). How did a complete division misjump back in time? and it might not even be the Word...
Oh boy: the story is getting good.
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and how? I vaguely recall a dropship crash landing in Antarctica that started this AU story (presumably from a misjump of a single ship). How did a complete division misjump back in time? and it might not even be the Word...
Oh boy: the story is getting good.
It wasn't a misjump... ;)
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May 2nd, 2012
Munich, Germany
Task Force 1 HQ
I was standing in the corner of the packed conference room nursing a rather meaningful hangover. Captain Spiers shouldered his way towards me and handed me a steaming cup of coffee, a large gulp was followed by a thankful nod. The bags under his eyes telling me I wasn't the only one not at my peak.
"Atten-shun!" a Delta Company Captain barked as the Colonel marched in, he quickly waved everyone at ease. The Colonel was perfectly squared away, his fatigues bloused, and his face freshly shaven. The lights in the room darkened as the room's holo-projector turned on.
"What I am about to tell you is classified top secret, any of this information getting into the wrong hands can have devastating consequences not just for us, but for the rest of the world."
Colonel Christoff Jeremiah then proceeded to recount the events of June 6th, 2010. From the crash of a Second Star League Defense Force Dropship, to the salvage efforts, and then the eventual destruction of the United Nations Research Base and the DropShip itself. I saw fewer surprised faces than I was expecting, Captain Spiers had surreptitiously looped me and a select few in Easy Company in on what had really happened in Antarctica a few weeks.
I wasn't sure if I entirely believed Spier, but the Colonel's confirmation sent a cold shiver down my spine.
The holo-projector updated to show a stellar map. The Colonel continued his briefing: "From what we've been able to piece together from the damaged database we are but one world among thousands in the Inner Sphere, we have a population and industrial base much larger than the average world in the Inner Sphere, and thanks to the technology we've reverse-engineered over the past two years, we're a significantly more attractive target than we were. Some of you may be aware that the terrorist organization we've been engaged in combating is actually a front for a religious organization calling itself the Word of Blake. Intelligence believes this is why we have those DropShips approaching us now. The Word of Blake believes we are ripe for conquest."
First Battalion's CO - Major Henry Duke - raised his hand, the Colonel pointed at him: "Sir, if there are thousands of worlds, can't we reach out for aid? For help?"
"That may not be wise Duke. It seems the Inner Sphere has been at a de facto state of war with itself for hundreds of years, and making more factions aware of our existence may only draw unwanted attention to ourselves."
The room seemed to grow even quieter.
The Colonel continued: "Besides that fact, it seems that the Word of Blake is currently persecuting a significant war, and we seem to find ourselves in the middle of it."
The Colonel clicked a button and the stellar map updated to include coloured swathes, each with different logos, which I assumed denoted areas of control - and our location seemed to be towards the middle.
Captain Spiers now raised his hand, the Colonel gestured towards Spiers: "Sir, I read the dossiers you provided, and I didn't find any mention of this, is this conjecture?"
The Colonel shook his head sadly: "Unfortunately not, this is all from a first-hand source."
Murmurs started building up the room, my own confusion being mirrored by my colleagues in the room.
The Colonel made a calming gesture with this hands: "All will make sense shortly..." and then he turned to the conference room's door and beckoned someone forwards. In walked a woman with distinct limp, a cane steadying her gait, but even that couldn't hide her military bearing. She was wearing the fatigues of Task Force 1 with a colonel's epaulettes, but I didn't recognize the unit insignia. A snake with blazing eyes was curling around a star with uneven points.
"May I introduce Colonel Annalise Proctor. Formerly Commanding Officer, Third Battalion, First Royal BattleMech Regiment, of the Second Star League Defense Force. Survivor of the Jihad currently raging through the Inner Sphere."
EDIT: Made a slight change to one of the characters.
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May 2nd, 2012
Munich, Germany
Task Force 1 HQ
The six holographic projections of the members of the United Nations Security Council faced Mullen in his office, their somber and worried expressions mirrored his own as he updated them on the inbound DropShips: "The Word of Blake space forces have spent the last few hours in orbit destroying most of our satellites. As we anticipated. Our hard line communication links have kicked in."
The Russian Federation representative spoke up: "Do we have any idea what they're next move will be?"
Mullen would have felt a great deal better if he had an answer for the diplomat: "I'm afraid not Sir. And until they make the first move it would be unwise for us to start redeploying any forces."
The Russian diplomat turned away from the projector, it looked to Mullen as if someone was speaking to him, a worried expression, and then fear appeared on the Russian's face. He turned back to Mullen: "There has just been an attempted coup in the Kremlin. Units from our armed forces are currently fighting each other in the streets. The current whereabouts of our President is unknown."
Shock spread across the faces of the other diplomats. The Chinese representative outright disappeared a second later.
Mullen's aide de camp burst into the office in a near panic, she ran over to Mullen and handed him a sheet of paper. Mullen felt light-headed: "North Korean BattleMechs and tanks and have just breached the 38th Parallel en masse."
Silence filled the room.
The United States Representative spoke next, Mullen noticed he was in tears: "There's just been an explosion in Washington DC. It's gone. The entire city is gone..."
Mullen steeled himself: "We knew the Blakists would resort to extreme tactics. Now we have to show them we're not going to take this lying done."
Mullen's aide ran into the room again with another note, Mullen did his best to swallow away the feeling of dread: "The DropShips have broken orbit. It seems 4 are heading for Great Britain, 3 for Central Europe, and 3 for the United States."