Task Force Talon: Brotherhood of Fire

[Raging-Fury]

Eternity, Eternity was a blinding white light in an empty room being bound to a chair that is bolted to the floor in frigid temperatures that made your breath misty. Eternity was being beaten as they searched for an answer you wouldn’t give them.

The man with the scarred face threw another punch into the prisoner’s face sending more blood spattering across the floor and causing the man to moan pitifully as his head lolled over to the side. They had been working him over for two hours now and he still hadn’t divulged any information that they could use, instead he had been babbling random facts and he even occasionally burst into a drunken sounding song. The man with the scarred face was growing angrier with each passing minute as the prisoner still fought the abuse and the bright burning lights of the interrogation room.

Just a little longer, I just have to hold out a little longer… The man on the chair thought. His shirt was gone and there were gashes all over his sculpted chest that were still bleeding, the blood dripping off of the chair and into a drain built into the floor. He was wearing a pair of khaki dress pants that were covered in blood. His ankles and wrists were bound to the chair by thin wire that was cutting into his exposed flesh whenever he moved. His face was a mass of swelling bruises, his eyes were almost completely swollen shut and there was a mess of blood and cartilage where his nose was at one time.

A light skinned man with thin lips and a pair of very dark hardened eyes entered the room and spoke to the man with the scarred face. The man with the scarred face didn’t look happy at what he was hearing but before the prisoner knew it the man had snapped a salute and left the room, albeit a bit stiffly.

“Good afternoon Mr. Horn was it? I am known as the closer, I will be the last face you ever see if you do not comply with everything I say. Am I making myself clear?” He asked as he pulled up a char to sit across from the prisoner and lit a cigarette.

Nathaniel Horn nodded his head as he tried to get a better look at the man in the blinding white light of the room.

“Very good, now, if we can begin, I’d like you to tell me why you are here, it is obviously not business as you claimed in the beginning, or as your visa states.” The man said as he puffed on the stick blowing smoke out in rings and studying his prisoner closely.

“I AM here on business; I’ve been working on the railroad all the live loooong daaaay!” Nate sang out as he flashed a smile through cracked and bleeding lips.

The closer smiled and backhanded Nate sending more blood spraying off of his face to splatter on the floor and wall.

“Very funny Mr. Horn, I am not a patient man, I have other people to speak with, now either tell me what I need to know, or I will be finished here, and so will you…” The closer said as he pulled out a pistol and flicked the lever over to the armed position.

Nate’s smile faded but the fire in his eyes was still lit. He was about to open his mouth to reply when a series of faint blue flashes caught his eyes from underneath the door to the interrogation room. He lifted his head from the dejected position it was in a moment ago and gave the man his best defiant look.

“I am Nathanial Horn, Task Force Talon Serial number 7409 Class 2389 off of training platform Funeral Pyre, current deployment aboard G.F.S Hellhound, current mission, map out planetary defenses in preparation for invasion. Irony? You won’t live to report this, Goodbye you son of a bitch.” Nate said smiling as much as his face would let him as the closer’s cigarette dropped from his mouth in shock while he fumbled for the recorder in front of him to be sure he had gotten everything.

He had it in his hand and was standing up to leave the room when a figure wearing black camouflage fatigue pants, light armor resistant to lasers, a short sleeved black tee, and a shiny silver skull mask over his face stuck a knife into his back severing his spinal chord and cutting into the Aorta where it passed the stomach. The man bled out in moments dying almost instantly as the commando withdrew the knife and moved to the chair where Nate sat using a clean knife to cut the ties binding his wrists and lent him a shoulder so they could leave the room together. Nathanial could barely see but what he saw in the hallway could push even hardened men past their limits. Three more commandos dressed similarly were waiting for the duo outside and they took Nathanial from the first man and kept moving past the dead bodies. These men hadn’t just died, they had been butchered.

Every man they passed had not been killed by the first shot, no the first shots were wounding blows to gun arms and legs. Instead of by gunshots they had been killed by knife wounds and cuts inflicted when the men were unable to fight back. Several could still be seen twitching trying to hold their stomach and intestinal organs in, and others still were still clutching their throats or at their eye sockets where they had been slashed or brutally ripped out…there were no cuts around the eyes. Nathanial looked at the carnage and smiled as he was carried through the hallways, his brothers were here.

Task Force Talon
Brotherhood of Fire

Task Force Talon is a force unlike any other. Once they have completed training and receive their shipboard assignments the teams onboard each ship form a brotherhood, a family forged by necessity, hardship, and fire. Each team functions well with other ship teams but work best with their own crew. They are highly competitive with the other ships and are very jovial in personal company. They will gladly sacrifice themselves for another and would not hesitate to bring one of their own back if there was a way.

This is the story of the talon crew of the G.F.S Hellhound, a Crusader Class battleship still fighting a forgotten war on the Vortex front. The Vortex front has long been a contested zone between the Gaia protectorate and the people of the Razor Nation Protectorate. The two factions had been fighting on and off for nearly one hundred years. A lull had just ended one month before the Sarions reappeared on the scene. The communications array onboard the Hellhound was knocked out and with the nearest long range transceiver having been destroyed nearly a year before the fleet was isolated. They couldn’t abandon the position without losing the territory which so much blood had been shed in. The task to get the word out was tasked to the Hellhound Brotherhood, a Task force Talon Regular unit whose dues were well paid, and whose location at the time of their need was on the Razor Nation capitol, Hon’Skara.

Weaponry:

XM-99 Laser assault Rifle – Standard assault weapon for the Commando corps. of the Gaian Fleet. It is modeled after the XM-8 of today, the clip on the 99 is actually a battery pack which the weapon uses to power its laser and gives it a 40 shot capacity. It weighs in at twelve pounds and can field a variety of attachments such as a scope for more accuracy in the field, or a bayonet type weapon for close in shipboard combat where bumping into people around corners has been known to happen. The weapon can be modified for a higher power output capacity and function in turn as both a sniper’s rifle or Light machine gun given the proper attachments and modifications.

Vulpek P6S Laser pistol – Standard sidearm for Task Force Talon soldiers, the P6S resembles the Berretta 92FS Elite and like the 99 has a battery pack where the clip would be. The Battery pack gives the weapon the ability to shoot up to 20 shots before the pack needs to be refreshed. It can be fitted with a small scope, a tac-light, a laser pointer, or a variation of the three depending on mission profile.

Task Force Talon Fun Facts:

Standard Squad Size – twelve men

Standard Squad Deployment – four three man teams

Standard Weapon Breakdown per Squad – Eight XM-99 standards, two XM-99 LMG’s, One long range Sniper’s XM-99, and one Specialized spotters XM-99 with enhanced scope and rangefinder.

Uniform Styles – The Task Force Talon uniforms are all based off of a similar design consisting of a set of black Camouflage fatigues over a set of body armor that is somewhat energy resistant. The shock troopers who engage in shipboard actions typically wear a skull mask that has vision enhancing tools built in so that the wearer can see in the night vision, infrared, and in some designs, spot where electrical currents were running. Variations are not uncommon and personalized uniforms can be found throughout the corp.

Rules:
The basics, no godmodding, and all that good crap, to be more in detail, this is a first for the PRP universe but this is a limited RP, you must be in the Task Force Talon unit so that leaves twelve available slots to play with, weaponry will come on a first come first serve basis as outlined above, so if you want a sniper and have a player you prefer to be spotter talk to them and me and I will ensure that it happens. If there are more than twelve RPers who are interested which I doubt will happen, I will form a second squad to be lead by an RPer of my choosing. I will also be accepting applications to map out and lay out the Razor Nation Protectorate so anyone who is willing to give a brief description of their choosing and weapons layout, as well as a few ship classes just needs to submit their ideas to me and I will either approve or deny them, if no one comes forward I will handle that myself. I have a specific area I want to go so I will take us there and do so while trying not to step on anyone’s toes. This should be fun so have fun with it.

Character Sheet:

All Characters Must Be submitted Via PM

Name:
Age:
Rank:
Protectorate Affiliation: Gaia ß Mandatory
Ship: Hellhound ß Mandatory
Appearance:
Equipment:
Brief Bio:

My Character:

Name: Viktor Flores
Age: 29
Rank: Major
Protectorate Affiliation: Gaia
Ship: Hellhound
Appearance: Stands at a respectable 6’0” has black hair and a brown eye. One of his eyes is missing and he wears an eye patch over where it was. Is well built due to his training aboard the Blood Hawk where most Talon soldiers get their start. He typically wears a black tee with his armor over it whenever the situation will allow it in combat along with the standard fatigue pants and boots. Out of combat he wears the TFT Beret along with his black tee and fatigues.
Breif Bio: XM-99 Assault Rifle in commando version without a stock and a short barrel, equipped with a short range scope and tac-light as well as a small bayonet. Has a standard Vulpek pistol with a tac-light and laser sight, as well as a laser pointer. He carries several knives, two for fighting and several throwing knives around his waist and thigh. He also carries two to three grenades, and a breaching charge for doors and obstacles.
Brief Bio: Enlisted at 17 the earliest age and began the one year training program for the Talon corp. was fully inducted one year later and began his assignment aboard the Hellhound, kept re-enlisting and fighting as the years wore on and eventually made his way to the rank of Major, and found himself in command of the Talon Teams aboard the ship.

[Ragnarox]

Ah yes, infantry. The branch of all militaries that I have become quite fond of over the past few months.

"I'm convinced that the infantry is the group in the army which gives more and gets less than anybody else."

Sounds good to me. I'll join in. PM Char now.

[Snot]

Damn right infantry, what do you think I am?:P

I'm in Fury, I'll get you what I can by todays end.

[Raging-Fury]

Character List

Squad Positions
Rifleman- 2/8
Machine Gunners- 2/2
Sniper- 1/1
Spotter- 1/1

Raging-Fury
Name: Viktor Flores
Age: 29
Rank: Major
Protectorate Affiliation: Gaia
Ship: Hellhound
Appearance: Stands at a respectable 6’0” has black hair and a brown eye. One of his eyes is missing and he wears an eye patch over where it was. Is well built due to his training aboard the Blood Hawk where most Talon soldiers get their start. He typically wears a black tee with his armor over it whenever the situation will allow it in combat along with the standard fatigue pants and boots. Out of combat he wears the TFT Beret along with his black tee and fatigues.
Equipment XM-99 Assault Rifle in commando version without a stock and a short barrel, equipped with a short range scope and tac-light as well as a small bayonet. Has a standard Vulpek pistol with a tac-light and laser sight, as well as a laser pointer. He carries several knives, two for fighting and several throwing knives around his waist and thigh. He also carries two to three grenades, and a breaching charge for doors and obstacles.
Brief Bio: Enlisted at 17 the earliest age and began the one year training program for the Talon corp. was fully inducted one year later and began his assignment aboard the Hellhound, kept re-enlisting and fighting as the years wore on and eventually made his way to the rank of Major, and found himself in command of the Talon Teams aboard the ship.


Ragnarox
Name: Hades "Sardukar" Antari
Age: 28
Rank: Master Sergeant
Protectorate Affiliation: Gaia
Ship: Hellhound
Appearance: 6'7", Hades is actually only just above standard height for a TFT trooper. He has slighty bronze skin and short croped black hair. Heavy muscular build as associated with almost all TFT troops. Engraved on the barrel of his LMG are the words "Kill Stick" and "Take No Prisoners!" A shoulder mounted removable tac light provides illumination. This flash light can switch to Ultra-Violet.
Equipment: XM-99 Light Machine Gun, often carries 3-6 extra magazines. The weapon is equipped with a bipod. Vulpek pistol with extended magazine clips. Is equipped with a tac-light. Shoulder mounted tac-light that can be removed is attached to the right shoulder of Hades' uniform. One longknife and another parrying knife both mounted on the calfs of the uniform. One demolition charge.
Brief Bio: Hades always did take a liking to starships and outer-space. However, something he loved even more was the infantry. The Gaian space forces offered Hades the best of both worlds. Zero-Gravity Infantry training. Enlisting in at age 19, in the standard ranks of infantry Hades found the regular infantry used for nothing more than boring ceremonial activities and honor guards. However, his superb training record granted him clearance into Task Force Talon training.

For Hades, the training was exactly what he was looking for, especially the sparing matches. Having trained in the martial arts of Kenpo and Ju-Jitsu before entering the military, Hades was known to break quite a few bones during the sparing matches and he was given a request to become a drill sergeant for the training courses because of the brutal display of force he put on at the ring. Hades put the offer down insisting that he needed to learn finess so he could incapacitate an enemy the same way without actually breaking their arms in five different places at once. During weapons training, Hades earned the nickname "Sardukar" because of his ability to use anything as a weapon, and any weapon as another practical use even removing the firing pin of a damaged pistol and using it as a lockpick.

Graduating and placed on the Crusader Hellhound, Hades found himself settling in at the rank of Master Sergeant, in charge of any single theater of operations during a TFT assault or defense.

LordQuimbley
Name: Unknown Codename: Tomahawk
Age: mid 20's
Rank: sergeant
Protectorate Affiliation: Gaia
Ship: Hellhound
Appearance: At four feet tall he is a short Indian by most standards, and as the last of his tribe he plans on taking out a few "Whitemen" before he goes. His standard uniform is plain except for his customized battle mask with metallic feather attached at the back which can be used as a weapon due to its metallic make and sharpened edges, there is warpaint permanently imbued into the cheekbones of a skull whos mouth is forever locked in a scream of fury.
Equipment: 2 laser pistols of standard issue variety, and two custom made TM-3 variant Tomohawks Laser imbued on the blade. Also carries a scalping knife
Brief Bio: Tomahawk enlisted in the Corp as soon as he heard of them. Which is right as they decided to save his ass and a couple of others from a bloody invasion. Prefers to play the role of scout in the group where his heritage lends him a natural advantage. His pistols are carried in thigh holsters to keep his belt free for the scalps he collects.

Snot
Name: Andrew Malice
Age: 21
Rank: Staff Sergeant
Protectorate Affiliation: Gaia
Ship: Hellhound
Appearance:
Height: 6’ 5”
Weight: 205
Eyes: Hassle
Hair: Red
Build: Heavy to muscular.
Andrew has a small scar running under his right eye and across his nose from an injury sustained in a high school sport when he was younger.
Equipment: XM-99 Prototype HMG Modification, 2 foot combat knife custom made, wrist mounted light, as well as a light source built into his XM-99. Sleeveless combat uniform (due to the size of his arms).
Brief Bio: After graduating top of his class, and with a star player record in all school activities, Andrew has never backed down from a challenge, he enlisted into the Task Force Talon corps, where his physical fitness excelled him though training. Upon completion of his training, Andrew was 18, where he was placed within a combat unit, as the years passed, Andrew grew in rank as more and more men also advanced.

100thLurker
Name: Larsin Cuavirus
Age: 26
Rank: Private
Protectorate Affiliation: Gaia
Ship: Hellhound
Appearance: Normal uniform untill the neck. At which point, his entire head is covered by a scarf, and a round-top helmet that holds a set of goggles that serve the same purpose as the standard issue mask.
Equipment: A sniper's XM-99 with a 25x scope, and a laser sight. He also carries an unusual laser pistol, which has a sword-length bayonet attached. A small dagger is the final part of his armarment when things get too dicey for both his main weapons.
Brief Bio: Larsin was born into a family of talented marksmen. Since he reached the point were he could use a gun he was trained to use it with deadly effieciency. He was expected to join the military, and passed training for Task Force Talon with little trouble. He was soon serving on the Razor Protectorate front, and was stationed on the Hellhound. The man has done reasonably well so far.

Vhaeraun
Name: Sergei Romanov
Age: 34
Rank: Lieutenant
Protectorate Affiliation: Gaia
Ship: Hellhound
Appearance: 6'5" 150lb. Close-cropped black hair, brown eyes. Normal uniform over a skin-tight jumpsuit (long-sleeve turtleneck; helps keep body temperature regulated and provides extra protection)
Equipment: Spotter's XM-99; Dual Vulpek Pistols strapped to his sides; Knife concealed in each boot.
Brief Bio: Sergei was born into a noticably russian family. Early on he demonstrated exceptional skill with following small bugs with his eyes, and catch them for one of his various reptile pets. At the age of 15, he entered service with the Gaia Protectorate, where he served infantry for 15 years. During that time, he picked up training with snipers, and eventually was drafted into Task Force Talon where he serves currently.

[Snot]

Character pending.

[Raging-Fury]

OOC: I decided to make this interesting, we are the intro post plus one, we are now evacuating the prisoner that was extracted, Our objective is to get the prisoner successfully from the Prison to one of the APC's that the soldiers just arrived in, the take the APC out to a field where four Victory class Gunships are waiting to take the team offworld, The characters Sardukar, and Malice are supporting Larsin and his sniper outside, Tomahawk is somewhere out in the mix with them having been a watchkeeper, my rifle team is outbound, so you guys clear out the mess and secure an APC

IC:

Viktor Flores
Task Force Talon Major
Pulling out
********************************************
“Vick to Tomahawk and Larsin, we have the package and are on our way out, what’s the situation topside?” Viktor radioed to his scout man and sniper as the riflemen formed up on him and Nate so they could make their exit. Nate was trying his best to stay up on him but the sheer loss of blood he had sustained was making him weak and very heavy for Viktor. They had used a cauterizing tool to close the wounds but he would need some time in a Medical chamber and some serious rest before he would be able to fight again.

The rifle team broke out of the main detention area passing the dead guards and soldiers as they went. The facility they were in was huge, it was a police station that catered to the Military and their sadistic fantasies so there were torture facilities buried underground along with the prisoner holding cells that the prison utilized.

“This is Larsin, I’ve lost sight of Tomahawk but we have a problem, APC’s are inbound from the direction of the military base and they don’t look happy. How do you want us to proceed?” Larsin asked over the team’s comm. net.

“Let them get close, when they get ready to disembark, target the officers, I’ll have Sardukar and Malice re-routed to your position to lend support, I think its time to get off of this rock. Try to keep at least one APC intact, we need to get back to the gun ships and get out off planet, I think we have seen enough to consider this mission a wrap.” Viktor responded as his group rounded another corner to find themselves staring down the barrels of half a dozen pistols. The local police force had finally gotten off of their asses.

They all stood staring at each other for a moment then all hell broke loose. One of Viktor’s rifleman fired first catching a policeman in the throat and pitching him backward into another officer. The officers responded immediately firing back their rounds catching armor and masks but doing no damage as they tried to find a weak spot. Vick shoved Nate down to the ground and brought up his own rifle stitching the last officer from his leg up through his chest as he brought the weapon to bear.

“You two, Pick him up and help him out, Sardukar, Malice, I need you topside with Larsin, we need to keep those soldiers occupied for until we can get out of here with the package, we should be topside momentarily, got it?” Vick ordered as he swapped clips and checked the nearby rooms for more officers or soldiers. They couldn't afford any more delays.

“Roger that sir!” The reply came from one or both of them, it was hard to tell. The squad inside the building stopped at a nexus in the hallway to read the tactical map of the facility and get their bearings.

The team got their bearings straight and made their way to the main entrance. They had just started moving when they began hearing the explosions and the laserfire. They picked up their pace and ran for the doors.

[100thlurker]

Munching on a snack bar, Larsin Cuavirus wrested his eyes from the scope of his sniper rifle. He let his eyelids clamp shut, a prized respite for one who couldn't even blink during a firefight. Wind blowing red/orange dust around him, he mused about himself. He was one of the odd snipers compared to the ones stationed on other ships. "Medeival Executioner" was his knickname to other snipers due to his scarf and swordlike laser pistol. Larsin was very well the last thing most enemy officers saw before a there was a burning hole between their eyes. In some cases, it was either of his blades, gleaming harshly as it hadcut a gash across an enemies chest.

The bipod that was settled on the rock vibrated minutely, jerking his hand, and throwing him from his blissful rest. Tossing the Hershey Bars wrapper aside, he brought his cheek to the but of his weapon and squinted through his right eye. Carefully, he brought the sight to the road at maximum zoom and sighted a rabble of mechanized infantry APCs growling down the road.

Larsin was about to reach for his com net "Talk" button when his team leader talked for him,“Vick to Tomahawk and Larsin, we have the package and are on our way out, what’s the situation topside?”

Only then did the sniper realize he'd lost track of the teams most wondered about enigma.

Tomahawk

Cursing, he proceeded into pressing the comm net chatter button,“This is Larsin, I’ve lost sight of Tomahawk but we have a problem, APC’s are inbound from the direction of the military base and they don’t look happy. How do you want us to proceed?”

The expected order came through to him, and he swung the weaon, bipod and all, toward the middle vehicle. It was standard Razor Protectorate doctrine, for the highest ranking officer to be encombed in the middle vehicle of any formation. Dust blew into the sky, scorching sun peircing through the veil and reflecting with menacing glare from shiny objects.

Skidding to a stop, the metal doors that sheilded the soldiers from any form of weapons fire dropped to the earth, and soldiers poured out from the gaping maws. One enemy had shining star on his collar, though no other sign that he was an officer was visible. Whispering in Latin, Larsin prayed for the man the red dot slowly rested on his head. The rules of marksmanship had changed. Wind no longer mattered, instead blooming replaced it, and the proper angles for a hit had changed with the weapons.

With a hiss, the recoiless weapon flashed to life. Like a long lance, it peirced the man's breast armor like so much paper, driving into the flesh. He jerked to the side of the impact as he fell screaming. Words of Lartin still rolling off his tongue, Larsin was swinging his weapon to the left, another officer showed himself. He shot at the grenade belt, as while they were scrambling for cover while yelling "Sniper!" they were still knit in a tight horde. There was a bright flash, and one of the the APCs dissapeared in a horendouse chain reactions of explosions. The roiling, devouring flame lifted, leaving a burning skeleton were there once was a fierce predator.

A thought penetrated the void left by intense concentration and training. "I hate this weapon," It came. His gun, despite modifications, was an uncomfortable fit into this role. He couldn't use his families' weapon as it had very little parts commanility with the XM-99.

Brillaint lances of light had been joining his own, shredding and mincing the Razor Nation Protectorate's soldiers. Finally, the opponents seemed to have found where there triggers were, and fired their weapons with wild abondon as the dove for cover. Apparently, one had better wits then most, and fired at his position. Hissing beams sheared the rock to peices, and he rolled away from the beams that threatened to scissor him to meaty bites.
"Anytime now..." Larsin hissed as a rocket grenade shot into the air. He desperately looked about for a new nest when the weapon exploded in midair. And not a moment too soon. Turning swiftly, Larsin growled ,"Took you long enough."

[Ragnarox]

Hades "Sardukar" Antari
Task Force Talon Master Sergeant
Work Time
**********************
"Awwww STERCUS!" Hades cursed as Larsin seemed to vanish in a burst of dust provoked by a well placed grenade. The Sardukar has been Larsin's NCO for a while now, and he knew the dependable executioner could never perish in such a violent fashion. In fact, the historical man would shortly start knocking off a few more heads.

For the time being however, both The Sardukar and Malice had their own problems to worry about. Despite the best efforts of all three TFT troopers, the enemy still held supreme advantage in numbers. On top of that, the Razor Protectorate APC's had an advantage, albeit slight, in terms of firepower. Despite this however, both TFT machine gunners continued to lay down a screen of death accross a 400 meter area. Although quite effective at keeping the opposing force's head down, it was relatively ineffectual for an aim to kill tactic.

Hades ducked behind the short rock face quickly as another laser burst bit into the rocks in front of him. He peeked his head back up only to encounter a more well placed shot which nailed him in the left shoulder. His laser resistant combat jacket protected him from the leathal beam some heat did travel through the armor and singe his skin. Hades cursed under his breath as he ducked back behind the ledge again.

We gotta MOVE damn it! Hades thought as he examined the killing field ahead of him. He glanced over at Malice who was holding down the right flank.

"Malice! This is Sardukar. Do you copy over?!" Hades yelled over the comm as laser fire blazed over his head once again.

"Malice here, I read you loud and clear sir." Malice replied in his calm voice, disturbed only by the sound of his heavy machine gun firing.

"Malice! I need you to steadily advance towards the right flank from the outer rock cluster north of you. Keep their heads down but shoot to kill if you get the chance. I'll be advancing down the inner cluster of rocks. This is a phalanx move! Wait for my command!" Hades ordered as he holstered his LMG, crouched and advanced toward Malice.

Once Hades was in position, he gave the go ahead to move out. Both TFT machine gunners stood simultaneously. For Hades, it was like the whole world sank and the exposed heads of enemy soldiers became painfully visible. Also simultaneously, both gunners opened fire. Their first fire sweep killed six of the remaining 43 enemy soldiers, who proceeded to return the favor by firing back. Naturally this forced both troopers to duck behind the safety of rock cover.

They both kept moving however, and their regular fire sweeps kept taking out three to five enemy soldiers at a time. The entire process began to look like wheat threshing, only using atomic powered, laser scythes.

[Vhaeraun]

Expect a charrie from me as soon as I get settled in where I'm at now.

I'm just gonna throw a double post in here cause chances are people wouldn't notice if I simply editted...

Sergei Romanov
TFT Lieutenant
Having fun
--------------------------

Sergei was sitting in a cross-legged position behind Larsin as he went about his work. His eyes were closed, but he had an edgy feeling, so he knew how the battle was going. When he heard the sound of the grenade approaching, Sergei jumpped up and shot the blasted thing out of mid-air. Seconds later, the launcher of the grenade died as Sergei shot a 3 round burst through his neck. Larsin growled at him, "Took you long enough."

Sergei chuckled and said calmly, "I'll let it get closer next time, just to see if you're paying attention."

Opening his comm link, Sergei said, "Sergei and Larsin reporting. Both of us are fine. Had a bit of fun with a grenade, but no damage to either. Out."

Sergei shut off the comm and turned back to the clean-up work. Sergei wasted no time dropping 3 enemy soldiers who looked in his direction. Sergei almost chuckled when he heard a voice behind him, "Drop your weapon and stand up slowly."

Since he was kneeling down, he could easily take care of this opponent. Setting his gun down next to his boot, he started to stand up, slipping the knife out of his left boot so smoothly, the enemy didn't even see the movement. The soldier smirked when he walked up to Sergei to commit the killing blow when the swift russian darted forward and slit the man's throat right open. Wiping his knife on the body, he slipped it back into his boot and turned back to Larsin, who merely shook his head. Flashing a grin, Sergei went back to laying cover fire.

[100thlurker]

"I'm starting to wonder if I should get you restrained from doing those things," Larsin grunted as his friend gave him one of his sunburst smiles. The team's machine gunners were obviously in a undectable trouble, as they were cutting the enemy up well enough, but looked as if their clips were gunna run dry at a bad moment.

"Maybe we should go in close range. Mince up a couple of the enemy, drink a beer, meet up with the Rambos and nab a vehicle. All this longe-ranging is boring the hell out of me." Larsin pleaded as he turned to his partner. At the same time, he shot another enemy that he had been focusing on.

(Tag Vhaeraun!)

[Vhaeraun]

Sergei chuckled. He said almost happily, "I thought you'd never ask."

Dropping his SMG over his shoulder by the strap, Sergei drew the knives from his boots and hopped from the sniper perch, not waiting for his partner to say anything more. The two complemented their movements superbly, so Sergei knew Larsin was a couple steps behind him. Sergei had an uncanny eye for tactical maneuvering, so he could tell where the enemy would fall back to minutes in advance.

Diving behind a stack of metal canisters, Sergei waited for a few moments. Larsin soon settled in next to him. Holding up 5 fingers, Sergei counted down slowly. When he had a closed fist, 6 guards leaped over the canisters to take up a strategic position.

Focusing only on 3, Sergei let his mind settle. Able to only hold off 2 at a time, Sergei dropped to his back and launched a kick right into one man's groin. The man doubled over in pain, and Sergei turned his attention to the other 2. One was fighting valiantly, but was losing. A nick here, a deep gash across his arm. A probing thrust into his left breast, then a finishing jab into his right.

Turning fully to his remaining target, he launched an insane set, feinting into the man's face before slicing his arm open. Reversing the blades in his hands, he slammed the butt of the blades into the man's face, dazing him enough for Sergei to draw a neat X across the man's torso, quick enough to show no bleeding, but deep enough to disembowel the helpless man.

Returning to the man he kicked in the groin, Sergei flipped a blade in his hand before launching it end over end toward the man's forehead. Sergei shuddered with the sickening crack that occured with the collision of the man's head with the concrete. Prying the blade from the corpse, he turned to see how Larsin fared.

[Snot]

"Malice! I need you to steadily advance towards the right flank from the outer rock cluster north of you. Keep their heads down but shoot to kill if you get the chance. I'll be advancing down the inner cluster of rocks. This is a phalanx move! Wait for my command!"

Malice was in blissful heaven, his XM-99 Prototype HMG was shredding into the enemy. The rapid rate of fire keeping their heads undercover. The energy weapon gave relatively no recoil as it spat in defiance.

“Come on you dogs! Sardukar! Now go! I‘ve got you covered.” Roared Malice as he steadily advanced on the far right flank of the enemy. His massive hulking form carrying overpowering destruction in his hands, caused the men that were hiding to break and run, some tripping over themselves. Malice raked the heavy cannon back and forth, creating clouds of dust as the rounds impacted, some of the men running were mowed down like ducks as Malice shredded them to ribbons of flesh and gore.

“This is a walk in the proverbial park!” He laughed.

[100thlurker]

Larsin Cuavirus
Holy Death's vassal
Blades are no longer out of fashion fools....
-------------------------------------------------------------------
Larsin grasped his gunsword's pistol grip tentatively as he hid behind the metal containers. He watched the older man count down with his fingers, and as soon as his fifth finger lowred into a tight fist, 6 enemy soldiers leaped over the other sides of the container to get better firing positions. The assasin had already selected his three targets as they were in midair. He then ripped the gun-sword from its holster and used the momentum to swing the gleaming blade across the closest enemies' chest. No sooner had the blood spouted uncontrollably from the vertical slash across the chest had he ducked down into a crouch, left forehand parrallel to his body while opening and closing spasmodically. His goggles zoomed onto thier trigger fingers and time slowed to a crawl. He slowly prepared for a scathing strike like a snake. The dead man's body slowly passed from his vision, and the two enemies fingers tightened on the firing studs.

Larsin waited no more, and shot up and away. He spun well into the air, and withdrew his dagger from its seath at his belt. Two laser beams hissed to life, too late, as his cleated boots smashed into their faces and his gun-sword gashed one of soldiers arms. He let the gun-sword fly from his hand and sink into the earth. The nimble sniper then planted his feet on the uninjured guard's chest. He brought his dagger high above his head, then brought it savagely in between the ribs before rolling off the dropping body. He whirled onto his feet and charged the final enemy. His now heavily abused scarf fell into a messy pile about his neck and he flicked his goggles away from his eyes. His smiled maliciously and there was a lopsided grin on his face before he charged the final soldier. Dazed, his adversary only managed to grazed his helmet with an ill-aimed blast as he flicked his wrist and snapped his arm straight through the enemy's throat. At the same time he sank down to one knee, his left arm planted into the ground with the left high in the air with the blade gleaming coldly.

[Raging-Fury]

Viktor Flores
Task Force Talon
On the move
********************************************
The exit was a dozen feet away and Viktor’s men were shifting with anticipation, already they were down three men one being incapacitated and two being tied up carrying him. The plan was for the men to set down Nate and one would stay behind to guard him while the remaining five would go outside and help clear the area and then the other man would return and help get him to the APC. Nate and his guard were now behind the secretary’s counter in the entry way and Vick had his men ready for their entrance into the fight.

On a three count, one of the men opened the door and the team waded into the conflict. The APC’s and their crews were under heavy fire from the machine gunners, and the sniper cover was doing its job keeping them occupied and terrified. The real question was where was Tomahawk? Vick didn’t have time to worry about that however as he brought up his 99 and began firing in short stuttering bursts catching exposed soldiers who couldn’t find cover from any of the threats. His men began doing the same and pretty soon the level of small arms fire was beginning to melt through the armor of the APC’s.

Viktor waved his arms at his men signaling them to fan out and get a larger field of fire on the enemy. The team was burning through ammunition with a voracious appetite and the enemy was suffering for it. The ground around the carriers and around the area was littered with corpses and the twitching bodies of those not yet dead.

“Close the net!” Vick ordered over the team’s comm. wave as the men began moving slowly towards the APC’s to finish the job. The men finally reached the APC’s and they took up positions along sections of the armor which was scored with the burns from countless hits and began surgically picking off the remaining soldiers that hadn’t had a chance to get away. The sniper rifle was rejoining the fight sending lances of energy downrange from its position and burning through men like they were nothing. The machine gunners meanwhile had slowed down their flanking maneuvers and were setting up shop in one area while the rifle team began inspecting the APC’s to determine which one could be usable.

Three of the four APC’s were in workable condition and of the three two were questionable due to the level of damage that had been inflicted upon them. The man who had been carrying Nate moved back into the station to assist his partner in carrying him out. The painkillers they had given him were making him stagger and sway a little in the team’s arms but he was moving. They loaded him into the APC and piled in themselves Larsin and Sergei taking the drivers seat while the rifle team situated themselves in gunnery positions. Meanwhile Sardukar and Malice took up positions in the machine gun nests on the top of the vehicle.

The vehicles engines kicked over with a roar and the APC lifted off the ground on its hover jets sending dust and debris flying in the wash. Larsin and Sergei guided the monster out to the road and moved the throttles up to full as they raced for the woods and the awaiting gun ships. Already they could hear the wail of security team sirens as the flashing of their lights became visible. Their vehicles were the assault version with a light machine gun mounted on the top and an open canopy for quick dismount and they were gaining fast.

“Hold your fire until they get in close! When they get in range, try and hit the drivers, or the engines, we want these things to take out their partners too, we are almost home boys.” Vick shouted over the rushing wind of the vehicle.


<Tag team members, Lurk, Vhae, you guys are driving, work together and get us to the gunships, Everyone else shoot down the Aircars, Vhae feel free to tag team with larsin taking turns firing out your ports while the other drives, when we get the the gunships there will be four of them, each person will get into one and will assume gunnery positions, you can describe maneuvers but you aren't the pilots, your job is to keep your ass clear so we can get to the rendezvous point. Enjoy>

[Nickodemus]

The missing
--------

Tomahawk had a bad pain in his side and collected 15 scalps when a feeling of dread came over them. "Something is wrong. I have let the lust consume me." He then proceded to the top and sought out the squad. Noticing the last apc they left he jumped aboard. "Damn thing better get going." he said to himself and engaged the throttle. It roared to life as he kicked it into gear. "if this was to work. and hell it would be just like grabbing a horse back home, he would just jump aboard their transport. It would probably scare the shit out of them and get him shot, but he would get off the rock."
He had increased speed to full throttle and was gaining when one of his team open up on him with the machine gun. catching him in the cockpit he barely dodged getting himself shot again. "Damn, a second radio." he thought to himself as this one along with his comm gear had gotten smashed. "O.k. going in very hot." he screamed and gunned it as fast as the craft could go. as he dodged fire from them he pulled the craft into a roll to show them it was him. They noticed he thought as he pulled it round. As it was technically upside down now he pulled himslef out of the seat and crawled back to were the open area was...

"O great spirit protect me." he said and then jumped. As he landed and rolled they looked at him and exclaimed how much of a mess he was, having no mask, guns, or comm gear.

<tagz and whatnot>

"Blood loss about 35 percent sir." and then he saluted from the floor before he lost conciousness.


<occ> sorry, i was waitintg till the end to try to catch it and be a pilot or something. This will work i guess. I got all those scalps in one fight. but I am pretty damned f'd up... tell me if it is too much.

[Ragnarox]

OOC: So ya, wtf happened here? Why did everything stop? Oh nvm.

Hades "Sardukar" Antari
Task Force Talon Master Sergeant
Damn Potholes...oh ya this is a hover APC? Wait a min? WHAT?!
******************************

Hades kept rock steady aim on the lead vehicle trailing his team's "own" APC. He was about to give the command to open fire as the enemy vehicles closed in when something slightly smaller than a full grown man slammed onto the roof of the APC and muttered a curse. Hades whirled and pointed his LMG right at this soldier and shortly there after realized that it was Tomahawk.

"Blood loss about 35 percent sir." Tomahawk exclaimed before passing out.

Hades was worried that if he stayed up here, he could possibly roll off the deck in the state he was in. As such, Hades gently pushed Tomahawk into the belly of the APC as he instructed somebody to catch him on his way down. Hades returned to his post as he muttered, "Crazy fool."

A few seconds later, Hades gave the order to open fire and crystal blue laser fire erupted from all around him. It didn't take long before he noticed that the fire was heading both ways. Unfortunately there was little cover on top of the APC so it seemed the squad would simply have to duke it out. Hades glanced to his right and noticed a series of small hills roughly 400 meters away. He thought for a split second before ordering Malice to direct his fire in that direction. Although Hades certainly didn't have the tactical brilliance of Sergei, he had learned a lot from simply his rank. Master Sergeants were required to know some of this stuff. Besides, he wouldn't be a Sardukar if he couldn't figure this one out.

The firefight continued for a few more seconds before the APC was rocked by an explosion and lurched sharply to one side, forcing Hades to grab onto the ladder rails for stability. He pulled himself back into a stable position only to be knocked down again by a similar explosion.

"What the hell was that?" Viktor demanded.

"Potholes sir!" Came the reply over the comm.

...

"'Pothole' M9X12 anti-armor mines sir! I think we've exceeded the weight limit to safely pass over them sir."

Hades cursed under his breath, The Major cursed a little louder and barked orders. The APC ascended about a half meter further into the air. Malice suddenly opened up with his HMG as two enemy attack craft attempted to flank the APC from behind the hills. Meanwhile everybody else on deck continued to engage the targets directly behind them. That forest still seemed kilometers away. Hades hopped it wasn't though.

<tag, anybody>