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2003-10-29, 10:22 PM
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[Ignore Me] #1 | ||
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Lightbulb Collector
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Chapter 1: Frozen and Flailed
It was a cold morning, 0745 hours. Every day was cold on Esamir. But today was extra cold, to boot. Incompetent, who wasn't, stood on the wall of the Dragonwolves's (Clan Draconus Lupus) base. Sentry duty. He walked along, investigating possible enemies with a Bolt Driver. He'd been up since about 0000 hours, and was due to stay untiil 0800. He sighed. You could see the sigh. Cristmas would be coming along soon. He wondered what to get for the outfit. Other troops were gathering wood for a fire. Ouroboros came up to him. "Inc!" "Ouro! It's your turn in fifteen minutes. Any reports of enemy activity over the map?" "None. Looks like another easy day." "So what DID happen with ol' eMa, anyway?" "She's still around, sometimes, at least. I think. Maybe she's been released." "She still with that guy?" "She got married." "Dammit!" "I..." A huge explosion landed in the courtyard. People ran. "Shit! What the hell was that?" "FLAIL! EVERYONE TAKE COVER!" Incompetent screamed into a megaphone. They ran for the buildings.
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The gun katas. Through analysis of thousands of recorded gunfights, the Cleric has determined that the geometric distribution of antagonists in any gun battle is a statistically predictable element. The gun kata treats the gun as a total weapon, each fluid position representing a maximum kill zone, inflicting maximum damage on the maximum number of opponents while keeping the defender clear of the statistically traditional trajectories of return fire. By the rote mastery of this art, your firing efficiency will rise by no less than 120%. The difference of a 63% increase to lethal proficiency makes the master of the gun katas an adversary not to be taken lightly. |
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2003-10-29, 10:25 PM
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[Ignore Me] #3 | |||
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Lightbulb Collector
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But I do miss the GG HAMMA sig. 
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The gun katas. Through analysis of thousands of recorded gunfights, the Cleric has determined that the geometric distribution of antagonists in any gun battle is a statistically predictable element. The gun kata treats the gun as a total weapon, each fluid position representing a maximum kill zone, inflicting maximum damage on the maximum number of opponents while keeping the defender clear of the statistically traditional trajectories of return fire. By the rote mastery of this art, your firing efficiency will rise by no less than 120%. The difference of a 63% increase to lethal proficiency makes the master of the gun katas an adversary not to be taken lightly. |
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2003-11-03, 09:43 PM
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[Ignore Me] #6 | ||
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Lightbulb Collector
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Chapter 2: The Plan
Manitou, leader of the outfit, was in the Vehicle Selection/Radar room when the assault started. He glanced at the map. Large purple blobs coming out of the nearest warpgate. Their base was the northernmost. They were also next to the gate- there was no question which base was going to be attacked. "Sir! Satellite imagery just arrived from Command. All Hell is about to break loose.". Sputty, the semi-nerdy sarge in charge of electronics and telecommunications, handed Mani a PDA. Five distinct outfits. One composed of mainly Flails, another one loading up people and small vehicles into Galaxies. "Shit. Artillery and air calvary." "What's our best plan?" "Hamma should take the 4th Calvary's fighter escorts and attack the Flails. We'll have to get Skyguards for the paratroopers. Everyone else is to remain at base..." Knoll, Sputty's lower ranked co-worker, burst in. "Sir, the nanite tank just took a hit. We've sealed it off, but we lost 10% nanites, putting our power at 63.2 percent." "Shit! We'll need an ANT run...but from where? The nearest gate is sealed off and I think the second nearest has a fair-sized NC base near it. The farthest of the three is our best option. Tell Lise to lead the ANT run on the ground. Hamma will take his Gals and Escorts to the gate, new plan." "I'll radio it to them, sir!" replied Sputty. Sputty got on Outfit-wide radio to break the news. His voice came over tinnier than usual, and with more than a hint of Earth's "Canadian" accent. "4th Air Calvary, you are to make an ANT run. Lise will lead the ANTs, Hamma leads the Galaxies and escorts. All other troops, to defensive positions." Flail fire intensified. Skyguards got into position inside and near the base. These vehicles had been spawned before, for fast reaction. Prowlers got on an adjoining hill for light artillery purposes. Snipers took up positions near and inside the base. MAX units started to pour out of the barracks. And all the while, it rained Flail fire.
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The gun katas. Through analysis of thousands of recorded gunfights, the Cleric has determined that the geometric distribution of antagonists in any gun battle is a statistically predictable element. The gun kata treats the gun as a total weapon, each fluid position representing a maximum kill zone, inflicting maximum damage on the maximum number of opponents while keeping the defender clear of the statistically traditional trajectories of return fire. By the rote mastery of this art, your firing efficiency will rise by no less than 120%. The difference of a 63% increase to lethal proficiency makes the master of the gun katas an adversary not to be taken lightly. |
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2003-11-03, 09:57 PM
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[Ignore Me] #7 | ||
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Lightbulb Collector
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Chapter 3: First Contact
"Move it! We need to get the hell out of here!" screamed Hamma, directing the cumbersome Galaxies with two glow-sticks. There was a small collision. Hamma began to swear profusely when a Flail shot hit a Galaxy directly in the engine. There were two simeltaneous explosions- a huge and a smaller one. The Galaxy erupted in a nanite thunderstorm. Lise nervously spawned her ANT and drove off, dodging a shot that landed very close to her. She nearly smacked into the end of the Galaxy vehicle bay as she was driving it in. Pan, sister of the famed {{eMaGyN}}, loaded her bolt driver and buried herself in the snow. She was about 200 yards from the base. A small evergreen was about twenty meters to her left. It was where everyone expected a sniper to be. So she didn't use it. The wind howled. She glanced through her scope, looking for the two evil colors of purple and teal. Nothing...yet. A weather report came in, announced by Knoll. "We have some pretty bad weather coming in. Temperature is going drop below negative ten Centigrade. Low clouds coming in from the south-southeast. Hurry up and..." An explosion interrupted his speech. The Flails had been landing regularily for...how long had it been? It had to be about 30 minutes. She didn't think there could be anyone alive in that base anymore.... "Negative. I repeat. Adjust one minute to the right." A voice. Male. It was almost obscured by the wind. It had to be far away. She was reluctant to give away her position. She didn't move. She listened. Another explosion. Bigger this time. "Direct hit on Skyguard. Adjust one degree up, four minutes right." Someone was directing the Flail fire! She carefully poked her head out of her little hole. Nothing. She turned on darklight. Aha! Infiltrator! He was whispering into the radio. He was very close. If she had stretched her arm out and held her Bolt Driver to the maximum distance she could, it would have touched him. She carefully took aim at his head and fired one .50 shot. The infiltrator decloaked, the CPU of the cloaking unit destroyed. Not much existed where his head used to be. The snow was stained red with blood and peppered with skull fragments. Brains mixed in with all this. It was almost enough to make one sick. She snapped her rifle in half, put in a new bullet, and started to look, again.
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The gun katas. Through analysis of thousands of recorded gunfights, the Cleric has determined that the geometric distribution of antagonists in any gun battle is a statistically predictable element. The gun kata treats the gun as a total weapon, each fluid position representing a maximum kill zone, inflicting maximum damage on the maximum number of opponents while keeping the defender clear of the statistically traditional trajectories of return fire. By the rote mastery of this art, your firing efficiency will rise by no less than 120%. The difference of a 63% increase to lethal proficiency makes the master of the gun katas an adversary not to be taken lightly. |
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2003-11-03, 10:11 PM
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[Ignore Me] #8 | ||
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Lightbulb Collector
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Chapter 4: Turkey Shooting
It had been at least half an hour since the attack started. Or was it? You could never tell once the action starts, Hamma thought. He was in his Mosquito, flying 700 meters ahead of the Galaxies- just outside maximum gun range for the average gunner. He appeared as a speck to the Galaxy. They had lost at least four Galaxies taking off. The Flails were damn accurate. Someone had to be guiding them...that also meant four less ANTs would make it back to base. Power would be OK for a short battle, but for an extended siege, which was about to occur, they would need to store each ANT and use it as power ran down. Lise rode in the vehicle bay of Galaxy 1 out of flight 1, or Galaxy 1-1. They would perform a quick touch-down inside the warpgate bubble, refill, and be out of there ASAP. The tactic usually worked. She listened in to the radio chatter. "Hamma to all Galaxies, there's a huge fucking stormcloud that just moved in, I can't see for crap. I can't climb out of it, either." Whoever was in 1-1 took up the radio and replied. "How many escorts are in the cloud?" "Well, we have about five up here, five behind you guys, and six in between, so that's maybe five or seven." "We can't wait it out at this point. Keep going blindly." Along the way, an unlucky Reaver collided with its wingman, causing a ruckus. The other escorts kept going, unaware of the problem. They were flying blind and far out. The Galaxies stopped. Three through eight were close enough to see the incident, and they assumed that the escorts had stopped, too." Only two stopped. As fate would have it, Brig. Gen. AztecWarrior was leading a flight of ten Reavers and Mosquitoes. The large flight going their way was caught by a scout. "All aircraft, set altitude 400 meters, we're going to dive on them, whenever this cloud clears up." The cloud began to move away, revealing both sides: NC and Terran. The five Galaxies had two Reavers as escort. In the power dive, which was 100 meters, both Reavers were lost. The Galaxies were scared stiff as they heard aircraft, 12mm chaingun, and 20mm cannon fire going off. Gunners opened fire, doing very little. Within minutes, the sitting ducks were eliminated. Aztec himself claimed two kills, one Reaver and a Galaxy. Hamma was not happy when he arrived, finding out that there were only two Galaxies, and 14 escorts that SHOULD have been with them.
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The gun katas. Through analysis of thousands of recorded gunfights, the Cleric has determined that the geometric distribution of antagonists in any gun battle is a statistically predictable element. The gun kata treats the gun as a total weapon, each fluid position representing a maximum kill zone, inflicting maximum damage on the maximum number of opponents while keeping the defender clear of the statistically traditional trajectories of return fire. By the rote mastery of this art, your firing efficiency will rise by no less than 120%. The difference of a 63% increase to lethal proficiency makes the master of the gun katas an adversary not to be taken lightly. |
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2003-11-04, 06:00 PM
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[Ignore Me] #9 | ||
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First Lieutenant
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hmm
large base siege, terrans, VS new wepons, air support.... hmmm
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War doesn't determine who's right, just who's left - Bertrand Russel "The absence of war is not peace." - Harry S. Truman Qui desiderat pacem pr�paret bellum. - He who would desire peace should be prepared for war. When there is no enemy within, the enemies outside cannot hurt you - Unknown |
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2003-11-04, 10:45 PM
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[Ignore Me] #11 | ||
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Lightbulb Collector
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Chapter 5: FUBAR (Fu...Fouled Up Beyond All Repair)
Lise Rolante watched the screaming-fest from afar. As a new person in the outfit, she decided that discretion was the better part of valor in this case. Hamma was turning red. "WHERE ARE THE FUCKING GALAXIES?" Hamma tried, in vain, to contact them over radio while screaming at his fellow fighter and heavy fighter pilots. "Sir, we had no idea that they stopped..." "Damnit! What the hell were you doing so far out anyway?" "IT WAS FUCKING PEA SOUP IN THERE! WHAT DO YOU EXPECT?" "I EXPECT A FUCKING PILOT, DAMNIT, NOT A BITCHY WHINER!" At almost perfect timing, the ANT capacitors read "100%- Full" and they were off again...with two ANTs. Hamma was fuming. He came up to Lise. "Did you see those assholes? They left their Galaxies..." "Let's just get moving, sir. We don't have much time to spend." "Fine, soldier, fine. Hopefully there won't be any more attacks. In any case, we've got a hell of a lot of escorts WHICH JUST HAPPENED TO BE DAYDREAMING..." She tuned out. A bit of oil had somehow gotten onto the Terran Republic logo on her Reinforced armor. She wiped it off as she drove her ANT back into the Galaxy. But Aztec was far from gone. He knew that they were on an ANT run, and he set up a little surprise. This play would be taught in the New Conglomerate Military Academy for years. He asked for a troupe of Skyguards to drive near the warp bubble. The drivers were also armed with various anti-air weapons. As the air convoy came near, they entered a hail of lead and rockets. "Shit! Reavers, go for the ground targets! All others, continue!" Out of the 14 escorts, 8 were Reavers. This left six Mosquitoes flying with two Reavers. The Skyguards scattered and ran. The Reavers had a hard time getting them. Several were lost, but the Skyguards were nearly eliminated. But Aztec used this weakness to attack again. He was lying in wait for the convoy to come to him, the same aircraft with him. He came from below this time, obscured by a ridge. Lise's Galaxy started to get hit, again. A 20mm hitting a Galaxy sounds like "someone throwing rocks on a tin roof, HARD!"* Hamma himself had to crash-land. The fight was over in a few minutes. The escorts were defeated. She heard rocket fire, and then the rear vehicle bay swung open. She heard the captain screaming for everyone to bail. The ANT was flung out, and she lept from it, kinetic dampeners kicking in. She glided down, and there was a terrific explosion. The ANT had hit the ground. She was knocked out by it. Her world went black, and cold. *Note- Quote from "Black Thursday" by Martin Caidin. Story of B-17s raiding Schweinfurt during World War 2.
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The gun katas. Through analysis of thousands of recorded gunfights, the Cleric has determined that the geometric distribution of antagonists in any gun battle is a statistically predictable element. The gun kata treats the gun as a total weapon, each fluid position representing a maximum kill zone, inflicting maximum damage on the maximum number of opponents while keeping the defender clear of the statistically traditional trajectories of return fire. By the rote mastery of this art, your firing efficiency will rise by no less than 120%. The difference of a 63% increase to lethal proficiency makes the master of the gun katas an adversary not to be taken lightly. |
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2003-11-11, 10:38 PM
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[Ignore Me] #12 | ||
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Lightbulb Collector
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Chapter 6: Interrupted in the making twice, here is chapter 6
Lise came to rather quickly. Something was burning very close to her. Then the stinging pain came through. She rolled. She had fallen on a piece of hot metal, which was heating up her armor. She felt a stinging pain on her face. She took off her mask and touched it. A cut. It ran a few inches above her left eye. Blood was coming down. She pulled out a medkit she had on her and stopped the bleeding. Other than that, she was fine. She got up. "MEDIC!" someone shouted. The medic was severely overloaded. There were at least two people on the ground with a partner holdiing up an intravenous. Saline and nanites were in the IV bags. The medic ran to the second one. She did a quick head count. Hamma had made it. Jouster, Hamma's wingman, had also made it. None of the Reaver pilots, including Strygun, were there. Two other Mosquito pilots...the Galaxies only held the ANT driver, a medic, three gunners, and a pilot. There was one pilot, one of the medics, and three gunners. She spun. There were a few corpses strewn about the wreckage. One was burned, another had a piece of steel through the face.... Turning to the ground, she felt acid in her mouth. She opened her mouth and vomited. It wasn't her first assignment, but there hadn't been many people with things jutting into their heads... Another one had been blown apart. ANT wreckage was near that one. I'm lucky that I got out of mine. They would respawn, of course, but that generation feared death. Their children wouldn't. The current generation was stuck. They feared death, though death had been conquered, except death of age. Their children wouldn't care. They would jump off of buildings, kamikaze into targets, fire rockets at their feet, just for the fun of it. Hamma came up to her. "Shit. It's 10 of us alive. Damn! I shouldn't have let the Reavers go." he said. "Whatever. You're in command." "What?" "The Mani said it. I command the air assets, you command ground assets. And right now, we're on the ground." "Well..." Jouster yelled out. "Storm coming in!" Hamma was still angry at Jouster. "Yeah, whatever, asshole." "Check your map!" He pulled out his PDA. Sure enough, it showed a massive blizzard headed directly for them. "Lise, what do you advise?" "We'd better stay here and hold our ground. Strygun'll tell Mani what happened." Within a few minutes, five of the eight starting out Reavers went off and attacked the Flails. MAG-Riders, Threshers, and armored transports started to head off towards the base. Strygun, the first out of the remaining six, landed at base and rushed to the command area. He was nearly hit by a Flail shot. "Manitou! The whole convoy's down!" "SHIT! No power. We'll have to ration power." He began to think. Strygun offered a solution. "We could launch a rescue?" "No good. A full SAR team would deplete us of soldiers, and..." BOOOOOOOOM!!!!! "Fucking Flails. We COULD send out SpecOps...yeah. Just a few of them. We also wouldn't want anything aereal, with that swarm of NCs out there. Send two Sunderers. It carries six passengers. How many survived?" "Let's try a radio link." "Command to Lise, do you copy?" "bzzt...co...bzzt...ten...bzzt...survived....bzzt. bzzzzzzz....storm com-.bzzztt...TEN SURV...bzzzt....copy?" "You're coming through sketchy. Ten survivors?" "bzzt -ger, copy....bzzt..." "Roger. Sending SpecOps to get you out. Two Sunderers." He turned to Strygun. "Fucking flail hit the antenna. Radio reception has gone to hell." "I'll notify SpecOps." "Do that, soldier. Remember- just two Sunderers. Nothing else."
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The gun katas. Through analysis of thousands of recorded gunfights, the Cleric has determined that the geometric distribution of antagonists in any gun battle is a statistically predictable element. The gun kata treats the gun as a total weapon, each fluid position representing a maximum kill zone, inflicting maximum damage on the maximum number of opponents while keeping the defender clear of the statistically traditional trajectories of return fire. By the rote mastery of this art, your firing efficiency will rise by no less than 120%. The difference of a 63% increase to lethal proficiency makes the master of the gun katas an adversary not to be taken lightly. |
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2003-11-12, 07:58 PM
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[Ignore Me] #14 | |||
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Lightbulb Collector
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__________________
The gun katas. Through analysis of thousands of recorded gunfights, the Cleric has determined that the geometric distribution of antagonists in any gun battle is a statistically predictable element. The gun kata treats the gun as a total weapon, each fluid position representing a maximum kill zone, inflicting maximum damage on the maximum number of opponents while keeping the defender clear of the statistically traditional trajectories of return fire. By the rote mastery of this art, your firing efficiency will rise by no less than 120%. The difference of a 63% increase to lethal proficiency makes the master of the gun katas an adversary not to be taken lightly. |
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