Schizo Tech
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Like soup in a cauldron, the surface of the cool Atlantic waters twisted and sloshed. The currents were indecisive; uncertain of which direction to commit to in their perpetual tug of war between the prime winds. Not so subject to the will of nature were a handful of hulking, ship-like craft hovering over the tides. In another era the crewmen aboard may have had to contend with the rolling waves and pray to their deity of choice for safe passage, but technology now enabled the cluster of warships to trundle forward oblivious to the conflict below. They were Ausralian aerodynes, clients of destruction for their namesake nation bristling with weaponry and laden with combat-ready troops.
All under the authority of one man. A man who even now stood amidst the leading vessel's forecastle, full beard billowing in the sea breezes that disrupted the water below. His face was gaunt with the ruddiness one would expect from a former life of farming, with a physique to match. Beneath two bushy brows laid a pair of cobalt eyes glittering with thoughts about the horizon that consisted of nothing but a similar color. The squadron had left port a few days ago, but nothing resembling land had been sighted in the time between starting their patrol and the present. It was concerning. According to the navigator, their bearing should have brought them to the airspace of the allied micronation of New Argenteen a few hours ago for resupply, but of course no such rendezvous had occurred in the absence of the country itself.
Colonel Fuller Austin's expression quickly soured as he continued to dedicate his attention to the emotionless blue expanse. This really was unacceptable; the first thing he'd learned as a leader was to 'never let the beer stop flowing'. With shortages of all sorts of commodities all around, that became the case more often than not, but a dearth of even the basic needs of life would doubtlessly go over rather poorly with the crew. At that thought, his gaze involuntarily shifted to a nearby midshipman instructing a duo of soldiers on how to do something or another. Austin winced as the two snapped clumsy salutes and turned on their respective heels to walk away, leaving a fairly visible mark on the floor. For all their prowess as shock troopers the Nomads made objectively tick poor sailors. On coming aboard they knew nothing of proper procedure or even how to store their cream brown armor and fatigues in the tight spaces. Austin found the only thing they could do without someone holding their hand was fight, but in that the Nomad brigades easily took the upper hand over their counterparts in the Free Navy's own Marine regiments.
"Sir." The colonel glanced around for the source of the voice before settling on the midshipman from earlier, somehow out of breath. His white shirt was damp with the sweat one would typically output after a period of heavy exertion.
"Something the matter?" He looked down at the junior officer, waiting for the younger to catch his breath.
After recollecting himself, the red-faced (...boy? Difficult to tell.) continued. "The Nav'y, he says we got sumthin! Mite of a little skirmish a few hundred to the east."
Austin's interest was piqued. "In yonder ocean?" He hadn't rained on a seafaring ship's parade on far too long.
But the midshipman shook his head, long sandy blonde hair twisting like a fine mob about his head.
"No, some town called, uh, 'Aeherhope' or some other. Some kind of owl thing, he said."
He looked up at the sky for a handful of moments before adding,
"Oh, and he says we're off course by aboooout four hundred miles."
The chance of a fight temporarily overrode Austin's anger with the miscalculation. It took him a grand total of ten seconds to come up with a response.
"Tell 'im to set a course, aye?"
"Aye!" The midshipman sped off again into the bowels of the Hastati on another marathon to the Guidance & Systems room.
The colonel, for his part, was ambivalent about the situation as the heaving vessel shoved to and was mirrored by its compatriots in the patrol group. The supply issue would have to be rectified in the next week, but the Strigiforme weren't supposed to even be out here. Even less so on a mission of violence. It was the perfect excuse to take out a few of the bastards while staying 'on course', and if anyone got in the way...well, he'd just have to kill them too. The officer swung around on the deck, cape momentarily fluttering up as he did so, and left to relay orders to the Nomad companies at his disposal.
OOC: Ausralians coming to screw everyone up prepare your anuns
All under the authority of one man. A man who even now stood amidst the leading vessel's forecastle, full beard billowing in the sea breezes that disrupted the water below. His face was gaunt with the ruddiness one would expect from a former life of farming, with a physique to match. Beneath two bushy brows laid a pair of cobalt eyes glittering with thoughts about the horizon that consisted of nothing but a similar color. The squadron had left port a few days ago, but nothing resembling land had been sighted in the time between starting their patrol and the present. It was concerning. According to the navigator, their bearing should have brought them to the airspace of the allied micronation of New Argenteen a few hours ago for resupply, but of course no such rendezvous had occurred in the absence of the country itself.
Colonel Fuller Austin's expression quickly soured as he continued to dedicate his attention to the emotionless blue expanse. This really was unacceptable; the first thing he'd learned as a leader was to 'never let the beer stop flowing'. With shortages of all sorts of commodities all around, that became the case more often than not, but a dearth of even the basic needs of life would doubtlessly go over rather poorly with the crew. At that thought, his gaze involuntarily shifted to a nearby midshipman instructing a duo of soldiers on how to do something or another. Austin winced as the two snapped clumsy salutes and turned on their respective heels to walk away, leaving a fairly visible mark on the floor. For all their prowess as shock troopers the Nomads made objectively tick poor sailors. On coming aboard they knew nothing of proper procedure or even how to store their cream brown armor and fatigues in the tight spaces. Austin found the only thing they could do without someone holding their hand was fight, but in that the Nomad brigades easily took the upper hand over their counterparts in the Free Navy's own Marine regiments.
"Sir." The colonel glanced around for the source of the voice before settling on the midshipman from earlier, somehow out of breath. His white shirt was damp with the sweat one would typically output after a period of heavy exertion.
"Something the matter?" He looked down at the junior officer, waiting for the younger to catch his breath.
After recollecting himself, the red-faced (...boy? Difficult to tell.) continued. "The Nav'y, he says we got sumthin! Mite of a little skirmish a few hundred to the east."
Austin's interest was piqued. "In yonder ocean?" He hadn't rained on a seafaring ship's parade on far too long.
But the midshipman shook his head, long sandy blonde hair twisting like a fine mob about his head.
"No, some town called, uh, 'Aeherhope' or some other. Some kind of owl thing, he said."
He looked up at the sky for a handful of moments before adding,
"Oh, and he says we're off course by aboooout four hundred miles."
The chance of a fight temporarily overrode Austin's anger with the miscalculation. It took him a grand total of ten seconds to come up with a response.
"Tell 'im to set a course, aye?"
"Aye!" The midshipman sped off again into the bowels of the Hastati on another marathon to the Guidance & Systems room.
The colonel, for his part, was ambivalent about the situation as the heaving vessel shoved to and was mirrored by its compatriots in the patrol group. The supply issue would have to be rectified in the next week, but the Strigiforme weren't supposed to even be out here. Even less so on a mission of violence. It was the perfect excuse to take out a few of the bastards while staying 'on course', and if anyone got in the way...well, he'd just have to kill them too. The officer swung around on the deck, cape momentarily fluttering up as he did so, and left to relay orders to the Nomad companies at his disposal.
OOC: Ausralians coming to screw everyone up prepare your anuns
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Re: Schizo Tech
U wot m8?
mfw brony imagesfr0stbyte124 wrote:5 months from now, I will publish a paper on an efficient method for rendering millions of owls to a screen.
Spoiler:
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Re: Schizo Tech
You've got a squadron of heavily armed warships headed your way is wot u hav m8.
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Re: Schizo Tech
I don't think that's canon, friend
mfw brony imagesfr0stbyte124 wrote:5 months from now, I will publish a paper on an efficient method for rendering millions of owls to a screen.
Spoiler:
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Re: Schizo Tech
In yo ceiling, stealin yo wires
Do not open. Ever. At all. Enter at your own risk to life and limb.
Trigger warning
Bot gore warning
Memetic biohazard
Error bait
Do not open. Ever. At all. Enter at your own risk to life and limb.
Trigger warning
Bot gore warning
Memetic biohazard
Error bait
Spoiler:
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Re: Schizo Tech
ACH0225 wrote:I don't think that's canon, friend
I'm well within my rights in finding a way to insert my character into the current situation. If your argument is that Error hasn't explicitly said anything about further newcomers, I could say the same about your reinforcements coming on station. If there weren't any modicum of freedom it wouldn't be an RP.Chairman_Tiel wrote:Austin is one of the highest ranking officers in the 'Ausralian' military and shepherds a flotilla of heavy aerodynes and their combined complement of the feared Nomad infantry along a shared border with the Strigiforme Republic.
If you keep second-guessing me I'm going to feel obligated to do the same later on.
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Re: Schizo Tech
He's perfectly within his abilities to bring a flotilla in, ACH. Bear in mind any specops team with an ounce of sense has SOME kind of AA, even if it's just their own gyrodyne.
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Re: Schizo Tech
Martin and the gangers were being pushed further and further back by the republic soldiers, casualties included two gangers, an owl, and most of Martin's temper.
"Pedro, can you tell me why we're fighting these guys and not just running away from this fight?"
Pedro opened his mouth, but closed it again.
"Well? Villa is almost guaranteed to be far away by now, we both know he's a master of escape, and there's not much in town worth protecting, nothing valuable for you guys at least."
After a short moment, Pedro opened his mouth again.
"I don't suppose honor is an acceptable explanation for you, amigo?"
"It sure as hell ain't."
"Well, just leave us to die, then. Run away to your precious airship."
"If you say so."
And with that, Martin put away his guns and shouted to the soldiers:
"Hey republic, I don't have anything against you, and I wouldn't have shot you if not for these guys. So if you don't mind I'll make a run for my ship now, if you stop shooting and maybe even come with me there will be drinks waiting for you."
And he started running away, leaving Pedro and the other gangers behind, their faces painted with a surprised expression.
"I didn't expect him to actually leave" Pedro said to the others. Then, his voice raised to a shout, "Hey Marty, wait up, I'm coming too!"
"Pedro, can you tell me why we're fighting these guys and not just running away from this fight?"
Pedro opened his mouth, but closed it again.
"Well? Villa is almost guaranteed to be far away by now, we both know he's a master of escape, and there's not much in town worth protecting, nothing valuable for you guys at least."
After a short moment, Pedro opened his mouth again.
"I don't suppose honor is an acceptable explanation for you, amigo?"
"It sure as hell ain't."
"Well, just leave us to die, then. Run away to your precious airship."
"If you say so."
And with that, Martin put away his guns and shouted to the soldiers:
"Hey republic, I don't have anything against you, and I wouldn't have shot you if not for these guys. So if you don't mind I'll make a run for my ship now, if you stop shooting and maybe even come with me there will be drinks waiting for you."
And he started running away, leaving Pedro and the other gangers behind, their faces painted with a surprised expression.
"I didn't expect him to actually leave" Pedro said to the others. Then, his voice raised to a shout, "Hey Marty, wait up, I'm coming too!"
BASH THE FASH CLASS WAR NOW
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Re: Schizo Tech
I was more meaning the whole Ausralian thing. I didn't know there was a whole merc faction with military grade airships and a chain of command. Well, if things get sticky there's a Strigiforme expeditionary force not too far away.Commander Error wrote:He's perfectly within his abilities to bring a flotilla in, ACH. Bear in mind any specops team with an ounce of sense has SOME kind of AA, even if it's just their own gyrodyne.
mfw brony imagesfr0stbyte124 wrote:5 months from now, I will publish a paper on an efficient method for rendering millions of owls to a screen.
Spoiler:
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Re: Schizo Tech
Not a merc faction, the Australian Free State. That third great nation thing. Stuffed to the brim with weapons and stuff.
BASH THE FASH CLASS WAR NOW
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Re: Schizo Tech
The thing is that they are friendly with the Strigiforme, and also would probably not want to provoke a war. You know, because it's generally a bad idea? Also, why is Tiel being a confused little bastard and misspelling Australia? Even though it's misspelled on the map, it should be properly spelled elsewhere to reduce confusion.Daynel wrote:Not a merc faction, the Australian Free State. That third great nation thing. Stuffed to the brim with weapons and stuff.
mfw brony imagesfr0stbyte124 wrote:5 months from now, I will publish a paper on an efficient method for rendering millions of owls to a screen.
Spoiler:
Re: Schizo Tech
Helios' airship slowly ascended to it's cruising altitude of 8.5 kilometers, where he slowly walked around the perimeter of the gondola looking for anything interesting.
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Re: Schizo Tech
The gyrodyne attempts to hail the gondola using radio and shutter semaphore code, instructing it to divert course to the Strigiforme base, with another gyrodyne in the distance being signaled to escort it.
mfw brony imagesfr0stbyte124 wrote:5 months from now, I will publish a paper on an efficient method for rendering millions of owls to a screen.
Spoiler:
Re: Schizo Tech
Taarakra has had more than thirty years of hard combat experience, much of it against the Republic. The gangsters are stupid and mostly harmless. The rebel forces are pretty well trained, but in small number.
Also Solar just literally conjured an airship. Not that I have anything against it because it's what I'm about to do .
LET'S START BLOWING SHIT UP WITH BIG THINGS!
BIC
Juan Villa, Cerberus, sat in the command chair of his HQ station, approximately three hundred miles from the town which he had chosen for his operation. He hadn't had radio contact with his double, the bait, in several hours, and most of the reports that he'd been fed indicated a much larger Strigiforme force than he had anticipated. With his double and the majority of his op-designated forces most likely incapacitated, he was increasingly pushing himself toward calling the operation. Unfortunately, that would be an addition to his list of failures that might put a catastrophic dent in morale. It was already difficult enough keeping the loose, outlying bands tied together. A siege-assault was another option, but transports, fuel, and trained personnel were in short supply. He was faced with either a technical failure now, or a logistic failure afterward. There was a third option, a longshot that would probably end in catastrophe not dissimilar to the other two, but with much different means.
To end with a whimper or a bang?
"Sir, report from the Gulf sensor stations. Several large contacts. Ships heading toward the current op site." A female voice, emotionless and monotone, heavy Eastern European accent. It would be an odd voice among the rebels if Villa didn't find it so familiar.
Cerberus forsook his statuesque manner and turned toward the voice, his false eyes focusing lazily on its source, his second-in-command. "Affiliation?"
"Unknown."
"Safe to say unfriendly. What's the status of The Contingency?"
"Still operational, sir."
A bang it is, then. "Ready the crew." He turned away from her, toward his the command console and entered several sequences into one of its many keypads, then activated his communications systems. He barked through the deep growling that began to build under the floor of the command room,"Cerberus to A-2 through H-3. Recommend evacuation as soon as possible. The situation has deteriorated." Pausing, he turned back to his second officer. "Pay the mercs."
She dipped her head and made her way to one of the stations on the semicircle that fanned out from the command position. Several other officers entered the bridge. The shaking of the station continued to increase, eventually rising to a thrum that pulsed through the structure.
The hulking form began to rise from the sandy pit where it had been kept for years, leaving a large crater where it once rested. An older ship, but still operational thanks to the efforts of Villa, who had made it a headquarters of the rebel operation. A name had been scrawled with white paint on the side of its exposed half, La Contingencia.
===============================================
Taarakra slowed in his sprint, receiving Cerberus' message. He turned toward Val, shouting over the noise of gunfire, "My employer suggests that I evacuate. I'm inclined to heed that suggestion."
Also Solar just literally conjured an airship. Not that I have anything against it because it's what I'm about to do .
LET'S START BLOWING SHIT UP WITH BIG THINGS!
BIC
Juan Villa, Cerberus, sat in the command chair of his HQ station, approximately three hundred miles from the town which he had chosen for his operation. He hadn't had radio contact with his double, the bait, in several hours, and most of the reports that he'd been fed indicated a much larger Strigiforme force than he had anticipated. With his double and the majority of his op-designated forces most likely incapacitated, he was increasingly pushing himself toward calling the operation. Unfortunately, that would be an addition to his list of failures that might put a catastrophic dent in morale. It was already difficult enough keeping the loose, outlying bands tied together. A siege-assault was another option, but transports, fuel, and trained personnel were in short supply. He was faced with either a technical failure now, or a logistic failure afterward. There was a third option, a longshot that would probably end in catastrophe not dissimilar to the other two, but with much different means.
To end with a whimper or a bang?
"Sir, report from the Gulf sensor stations. Several large contacts. Ships heading toward the current op site." A female voice, emotionless and monotone, heavy Eastern European accent. It would be an odd voice among the rebels if Villa didn't find it so familiar.
Cerberus forsook his statuesque manner and turned toward the voice, his false eyes focusing lazily on its source, his second-in-command. "Affiliation?"
"Unknown."
"Safe to say unfriendly. What's the status of The Contingency?"
"Still operational, sir."
A bang it is, then. "Ready the crew." He turned away from her, toward his the command console and entered several sequences into one of its many keypads, then activated his communications systems. He barked through the deep growling that began to build under the floor of the command room,"Cerberus to A-2 through H-3. Recommend evacuation as soon as possible. The situation has deteriorated." Pausing, he turned back to his second officer. "Pay the mercs."
She dipped her head and made her way to one of the stations on the semicircle that fanned out from the command position. Several other officers entered the bridge. The shaking of the station continued to increase, eventually rising to a thrum that pulsed through the structure.
The hulking form began to rise from the sandy pit where it had been kept for years, leaving a large crater where it once rested. An older ship, but still operational thanks to the efforts of Villa, who had made it a headquarters of the rebel operation. A name had been scrawled with white paint on the side of its exposed half, La Contingencia.
===============================================
Taarakra slowed in his sprint, receiving Cerberus' message. He turned toward Val, shouting over the noise of gunfire, "My employer suggests that I evacuate. I'm inclined to heed that suggestion."
"Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from a completely ad-hoc plot device"
— David Langford
— David Langford
Spoiler:
Re: Schizo Tech
"And just why the fuck should I do that?"