Of the Oppressed

Here aspiring creators can lay down some basic ideas of what they are going to do before submitting a finalized form for the viewing public. A good place to get some help from your fellows.
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Jericho Veronus
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Of the Oppressed

Post by Jericho Veronus » Wed Apr 07, 2010 5:38 pm

The cranking of gears drowns out any other possible sounds, as our platform is moved into position. Thousands of feet above the planet's surface, sitting on a thin sheet of metal strapped to a tank of rocket fuel and an engine built by the lowest possible bid.

Though it's once the gears stop that one should reserve for pissing ones pants. The deadly silence of only a few seconds before everything around you is violently ripped away. Before every organ within you is forcefully shoved upward, almost fighting to be the first to escape through your mouth. The initial descent, a free-fall that was propelled by the hydrolic systems of a transport ship, that ran nearly two miles throughout its bowels.

A thin shaky bar is the only support between you and the open atmosphere. I can only assume that the drop platforms were constructed with such shoddy workmanship was simply by reason of the one time use expectation, an expectation that easily supported. The higher ups, sitting comfortably behind their desks and strategy tables dropped us in with no means of even recovering us, let alone the drop vehicles.
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May God have mercy on your soul, for you shall find none here!

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Jericho Veronus
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Hit the Ground Running

Post by Jericho Veronus » Fri Apr 09, 2010 9:43 pm

If you were lucky, an anti-air missile didn't hit your platform, the landing rockets kicked in before impacting the ground, the landing zone wasn't overrun by the enemy and you actually made fall in the correct designated sector, hopefully along with your other teams. Luck is the most cruelest of mistresses.

Of the six, four-man teams designated to our sector, only two actually managed to meet boot to dirt, atleast while the foot was still attached to them. And then within the matter of seconds it took just to disembark, streams of lead completely ripped apart the entire beta team. The four members of Charlie team were all that remained of the force assigned to take control of the apparent overrun sector of Delta-Si 28.

We were fortunate to have a competent engineer, a real quick thinker. Our platform landed in the middle of our sector, but also in the middle of an open plot, zero cover. So he kicked out the main landing rocket, causing the platform to slam into the ground at an angle, providing us with just enough cover to escape any direct fire, while he set up a turret.

The auto-gun turret wasn't expected to last long. We only hoped it would remain long enough to provide some sort of covering fire while we made a break for the closest standing structure. Not even knowing if it was clear, but at that moment, any place was better than there.
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May God have mercy on your soul, for you shall find none here!

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Jericho Veronus
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Smoke Em if you Got Em.

Post by Jericho Veronus » Sun Apr 11, 2010 8:35 pm

We managed to enter the building unscathed, more or less, though it cost us the auto-cannon turret. It had a distinct sound when exploding, something to do with the rotary of its main systems attempting to shutdown to minimalize the blast radius in order to avoid friendly casualties. We heard this very sound outside as we began the immediate sweep of the building.

It was two levels resting on the top of a slope, its top floor, the one we entered, possessed a balcony overlooking the lower areas; it was an adequate strategic point for the attempted survival of one four-man team deep in enemy territory. The two corporals proceeded down the stairwell while myself and the Master Sergeant covered the rear, ensuring no enemy tried following us in.

Our actually team seemed to be thrown together before the dispatch from the transport ship. My battle-buddy, a veteran sniper who had made a name for himself in one of the smaller cities during the Helgaan's original invasion of our own planet. The other pair was our engineer, fresh from the training academy but one of the most level headed guys in battle that I'd ever met and the tactician, he was a dick. Then there was myself, the saboteur, explosives expert and master of disguise, and quite good at it if I do say so myself. I'd be willing to be my last couple of paychecks, which I still have yet to even friggin see, that they drew our names outta a damn hat. Hell, I didn't even know any of their names, but we were told it was better with no names. You wouldn't get attached and suffer emotionally in case of their deaths. Guess they planned on a lot of deaths.

The sound of gun fire and explosions continued outside beyond the concrete walls of solitude that made our shelter, though with the amount it was damn near impossible to tell if any of it was actually directed at us. I could tell the building was completely clear though, even before the other pair returned. The green smoke of a transport beacon rose from the stairwell ahead of them. Glad to see the tactician did something right. With any luck, reinforcements would begin homing in on it. Heh, luck.
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May God have mercy on your soul, for you shall find none here!

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Jericho Veronus
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Those of Deserving Death

Post by Jericho Veronus » Fri Apr 16, 2010 8:19 pm

The greatest three words that anyone could ever ask for, "reinforcements have arrived." In nearly no time at all after setting the beacon two full ISA combat teams ascended the staircase to join us. It would appear we weren't the only team dropped far from our actual designated point. The four-man teams consisted mainly of grunts carrying assualt rifles or light machine guns, which I actually prefer to stationing turrets specifically because of the advantages in reaction time and mobility.

Though of course, within the crop of new troops, we received what I've designated as "retarded rookies." They're those guys that ever since before basic training were all gung-ho, saying that they were going to kill a hundred Helgast and return home as decorated heroes. The ones that as soon as they landed wanted to charge the enemy, regardless of size, position or even the objective at hand, such as current since during this phase we were meant solely to capture and hold, defending only. I couldn't stand them. Though I have to say, in this particular instance one good thing did come from their arrival.

It couldn't have been more than ten minutes after the Master Sergeant briefed them, that one got restless and charged out claiming to have seen movement somewhere in the distance. The immediate streams of fire that tore him to ribbons from two separate locations let us know that the enemy was aware of our position for sure, as well as giving us an idea as to their fire power and their main avenues of approach. The sacrifice of one for the good of the many. And that particular deed probably better served us than the dumb fool could have ever done alive. I hate to say it, but his actions later on could have resulted in the deaths of other allies, so better him than us.
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May God have mercy on your soul, for you shall find none here!

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