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2012-05-01, 05:06 PM | [Ignore Me] #271 | ||
either way we get to blast em right?
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"Don't matter who did what to who at this point. Fact is, we went to war, and now there ain't no going back. I mean shit, it's what war is, you know? Once you in it, you in it! If it's a lie, then we fight on that lie. But we gotta fight. " Slim Charles aka Tallman - The Wire BRTD Mumble Server powered by Gamercomms |
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2012-05-13, 01:56 PM | [Ignore Me] #276 | ||
First Sergeant
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The remnant of the T.R. that exists on Auraxis is but a wisp of the original on Earth.
They have fallen from their once rightful place as leaders. They have fallen to their base instincts. They have fallen. For Humanity to progress under the guidance of Vanu, all those who seek to slow the evolution of Humanity must be pushed aside! The strength that Vanu has entrusted to is unsurpassed, and will wash away the detritus that will be those who stand against us! No matter the outcome of these days, there will always be a tomorrow, and We are Tomorrow! Last edited by Pyreal; 2012-05-13 at 01:57 PM. |
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2012-05-13, 02:30 PM | [Ignore Me] #277 | |||
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"Don't matter who did what to who at this point. Fact is, we went to war, and now there ain't no going back. I mean shit, it's what war is, you know? Once you in it, you in it! If it's a lie, then we fight on that lie. But we gotta fight. " Slim Charles aka Tallman - The Wire BRTD Mumble Server powered by Gamercomms |
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2012-05-14, 08:05 AM | [Ignore Me] #282 | ||
Please avoid doing a bunch of picture replies back and forth guys.
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SS89Goku - NC - BR33 - CR5||LFO? Want help upgrading/building a new computer? Will your desktop/laptop run PS2? How PhysX runs on Nvidia and AMD (ATI) systems PlanetSide Universe Rules |
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2012-05-14, 11:48 AM | [Ignore Me] #284 | ||
Major
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DIE OR TR
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[URL="http://t.co/wHak5U5R"]Floating Mountains[/URL PlanetSide 2: Alien Incursion (PlanetSide 2 Steam Community Group) |
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2012-05-15, 03:28 PM | [Ignore Me] #285 | ||
Overheard in the middle of Sanctuary "Men, this stuff that some sources sling around about the Terrans wanting out of this war, not wanting to fight, is a crock of bullshit. Terrans love to fight, traditionally. All real Terrans love the sting and clash of battle. You are here today for three reasons. First, because you are here to defend your homes and your loved ones. Second, you are here for your own self respect, because you would not want to be anywhere else. Third, you are here because you are real men and all real men like to fight. When you, here, everyone of you, were kids, you all admired the champion gamer, the fastest runner, the toughest boxer, the big league ball players, and the Terran Republic football players. Terrans love a winner. Terrans will not tolerate a loser. Terrans despise cowards. Terrans play to win all of the time. I wouldn't give a hoot in hell for a man who lost and laughed. That's why Terrans have never lost nor will ever lose a war; for the very idea of losing is hateful to an Terran." "All through your careers, you men have bitched about what you call "chicken shit drilling". That, like everything else here, has a definite purpose. That purpose is alertness. Alertness must be bred into every soldier. I don't give a fuck for a man who's not always on his toes. You men are veterans or you wouldn't be here. You are ready for what's to come. A man must be alert at all times if he expects to stay alive. If you're not alert, sometime, a Vanu son-of-an-asshole-bitch is going to sneak up behind you and beat you to death with a sockful of shit!" "We exist as a team. It lives, sleeps, eats, and fights as a team. This individual heroic stuff is pure horse shit. The bilious bastards who write that kind of stuff for the Republic Manifest don't know any more about real fighting under fire than they know about fucking!" "We have the finest food, the finest equipment, the best spirit, and the best men in the world. Why, I actually pity those poor sons-of-bitches we're going up against. I do". "My men don't surrender. I don't want to hear of any soldier under my command being captured unless he has been hit. Even if you are hit, you can still fight back. That's not just bull shit either. The kind of man that I want in my command is just like the lieutenant in Amerish, who, with a Scatter Pistol against his chest, jerked off his helmet, swept the gun aside with one hand, and busted the hell out of the Smurf with his helmet. Then he jumped on the gun and went out and killed another New Cong before they knew what the hell was coming off. And, all of that time, this man had a bullet through a lung. There was a real man!" "All of the real heroes are not storybook combat fighters, either. Every single man in this Army plays a vital role. Don't ever let up. Don't ever think that your job is unimportant. Every man has a job to do and he must do it. Every man is a vital link in the great chain. What if every truck driver suddenly decided that he didn't like the whine of those shells overhead, turned yellow, and jumped headlong into a ditch? The cowardly bastard could say, "Hell, they won't miss me, just one man in thousands". But, what if every man thought that way? Where in the hell would we be now? What would our country, our loved ones, our homes, even the world, be like? No, Damnit, Terrans don't think like that. Every man does his job. Every man serves the whole. Every department, every unit, is important in the vast scheme of this war. The ordnance men are needed to supply the guns and machinery of war to keep us rolling. The Quartermaster is needed to bring up food and clothes because where we are going there isn't a hell of a lot to steal. Every last man on K.P. has a job to do, even the one who heats our water to keep us from getting the 'G.I. Shits'." "Each man must not think only of himself, but also of his buddy fighting beside him. We don't want yellow cowards here. They should be killed off like rats. If not, they will go home after this war and breed more cowards. The brave men will breed more brave men. Kill off the damn cowards and we will have a nation of brave men. One of the bravest men that I ever saw was a fellow on top of a tower in the midst of a furious fire fight in Ceryshen. I stopped and asked what the hell he was doing up there at a time like that. He answered, "Fixing the turrets, Sir". I asked, "Isn't that a little unhealthy right about now?" He answered, "Yes Sir, but the damn turret has to be fixed". I asked, "Don't those Scythes strafing the road bother you?" And he answered, "No, Sir, but you sure as hell do!" Now, there was a real man. A real soldier. There was a man who devoted all he had to his duty, no matter how seemingly insignificant his duty might appear at the time, no matter how great the odds. And you should have seen those trucks on the roads in Indar. Those drivers were magnificent. All day and all night they rolled over those son-of-a-bitching roads, never stopping, never faltering from their course, with shells bursting all around them all of the time. We got through on good old Terran guts. Many of those men drove for over forty consecutive hours. These men weren't combat men, but they were soldiers with a job to do. They did it, and in one hell of a way they did it. They were part of a team. Without team effort, without them, the fight would have been lost. All of the links in the chain pulled together and the chain became unbreakable." "Don't forget you men don't know that I'm here. No mention of that fact is to be made in any letters. The world is not supposed to know what the hell happened to me. I'm not supposed to be commanding. I'm not even supposed to be here. Let the first bastards to find out be the damned New Congs. Some day I want to see them raise up on their piss-soaked hind legs and howl, 'Holy Fuck, it's the Goddamned Terrans again and that son-of-a-gun Manitou." "We want to get the hell over there. The quicker we clean up this damn mess, the quicker we can take a little jaunt against the purple pissing Vanu and clean out their nest, too." "When a man is lying in a shell hole, if he just stays there all day, a New Cong will get to him eventually. The hell with that idea. The hell with taking it. My men don't dig foxholes. I don't want them to. Foxholes only slow up an offensive. Keep moving. And don't give the enemy time to dig one either. We'll win this war, but we'll win it only by fighting and by showing the Smurfs that we've got more guts than they have; or ever will have. We're not going to just shoot the sons-of-bitches, we're going to rip out their living Goddamned guts and use them to grease the treads of our Prowlers. We're going to murder those lousy revolutionist cocksuckers by the bushel-fucking-basket. War is a bloody, killing business. You've got to spill their blood, or they will spill yours. Rip them up the belly. Shoot them in the guts. When shells are hitting all around you and you wipe the dirt off your face and realize that instead of dirt it's the blood and guts of what once was your best friend beside you, you'll know what to do!" "I don't want to get any messages saying, "I am holding my position." We are not holding a damned thing. Let the Smurfs do that. We are advancing constantly and we are not interested in holding onto anything, except the enemy's balls. We are going to twist his balls and kick the living shit out of him all of the time. Our basic plan of operation is to advance and to keep on advancing regardless of whether we have to go over, under, or through the enemy. We are going to go through him like crap through a goose; like shit through a tin horn!" "From time to time there will be some complaints that we are pushing our people too hard. I don't give a good damn about such complaints. I believe in the old and sound rule that an ounce of sweat will save a gallon of blood. The harder WE push, the more Smurfs we will kill. The more New Congs we kill, the fewer of our men will be killed. Pushing means fewer casualties. I want you all to remember that." "There is one great thing that you men will all be able to say after this war is over and you are home once again. You may be thankful that twenty years from now when you are sitting by the fireplace with your grandson on your knee and he asks you what you did in the great Auraxian War, you WON'T have to cough, shift him to the other knee and say, "Well, your Granddaddy shoveled shit in Sanctuary." No, Sir, you can look him straight in the eye and say, "Son, your Granddaddy rode with the Terran Republic Army and a Son-of-a-Gun named Manitou!"
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Commanding Officer To the next idiot who says the PS2 Devs do not listen: See this Thread |
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