Roleplayer Guild - Forum Roleplaying Games

**rouge47** · #1 (**permalink**) 09-23-2008

A.E. OOC
A.E.

Caleb was only fourteen. Should a fourteen year-old boy witness the end of the world? No, never. But the world’s time would had to have come sooner or later.

He was separated from his family during the panic. The meteor was only hours away from impact. The Luna Strike Force, a new military branch of the U.S. government, was conducting a large scale evacuation attempt to get as many people off of the planet as possible. The meteor had been spotted several years in advance, but the government didn’t want the world to know until there was no other solution but total abandonment of earth. When they realized that none of their weapons could stop it, they began immediate construction of transports that could get the people off of the planet as quickly as possible. The evacuation had been taking place for nearly three weeks now and there were still millions left. The LSF was running out of time. The world leaders were the first to go, and then everyone else. The reassuring military soldiers kept telling everyone that they would be okay; that they had constructed new homes on the moon and in space. But when the clock’s minutes withered away, people became more frightened that they wouldn’t make it off the planet.

Caleb was about to be left behind. The last of the shuttles took off for one last time. It was a one-way trip. The asteroid was too close to come back and attempt another evacuation. Those left behind quickly scrambled for shelter. Men, women, even children were left to fend for themselves as their doom quickly approached. Caleb was among them. He ran through the alleys and back streets of New York City, trying to find some place that looked like it could withstand an asteroid impact. This thing was the size of Iceland. It would decimate the earth.

Caleb was just about to run inside of a building when he was grabbed from the side. He screamed for help but when he looked up at the man that had grabbed him, he realized that it was an LSF soldier. Was he left behind too?

“Don’t worry, kid, I got ya,” he said. “Hang on, I’m gonna get ya to a transport.”

There was still one left? Would they make it in time? As they ran the sun began to dim as the asteroid moved in front of its rays. The sky instantly turned red and the clouds began to separate from the build-up of pressure in the atmosphere as the asteroid began to break through the first molecules of air. It was projected to hit somewhere in the Atlantic. In that case, high ground would be the better option. A tsunami would wipe New York off the face of the map, as well as the other coasts bordering the Atlantic.

They kept on running until they came to a small opening. An odd jet craft was parked in the center of a concrete slab with multiple LSF soldiers guarding it. “Commander? What are doing? Where were you?” One of them hollered. He was asking the man that was holding Caleb’s hand and guiding him over to the craft. “My conscience got the better of me. Now, come on and let’s get the hell outta here!”

They all climbed inside of the craft from small opening at the bottom with a lift platform. When they were inside each took a seat and strapped up. The LSF commander, the one who rescued Caleb from his doom, was sitting up front in what appeared to be the pilot’s seat.

“Okay,” one of the soldiers said, “I know the Aurora’s supersonic speed is no myth, as we found that out just an hour ago when we took off from Istanbul, but are you sure this thing can reach orbit?”

“Positive,” another one said. “My grandfather developed the original designs for the Aurora back when everybody thought that Area 51 was an alien research facility. After his death, my dad pursued the Aurora legacy and set forth on the plans for the Aurora Alpha. This baby was constructed only a year ago, but it has exceeded all expectations. My granddad would be proud!”

“Your family has one helluva legacy for the sci-fi, you know that?”

The craft hummed to life and the engines started up. The inside lights dimmed and multiple computer terminals came online. The commander was busy punching in codes and flight sequences. Soon, the Aurora Alpha lifted off the ground and hovered in the air. As it spun around, the asteroid came into view. It was past the final layer of the atmosphere and just about to slam into the Atlantic. A wave of heat and fire came bursting forth from the meteor itself and was heading straight for New York. The shock wave would annihilate New York City long before the tsunami would take what’s left. “Huh…Commander….you wanna punch it or sit here and watch the fireworks?” The commander slammed down on a button on the controls and the jet burst forward towards the asteroid. The supersonic boom could be heard behind the Aurora as it took off at mach two, approaching mach four within seconds. The asteroid was much larger up close and it looked like a giant coming down from the heavens. The commander yanked back on the controls and the Aurora turned its nose towards space. They were riding vertically parallel to the tale of the asteroid.

When the rock hit, the tsunami started. The wave was followed by a wall of fire. New York was already burning to ash from the first shock wave. The entire Atlantic Ocean seemed to sink and then rise within a matter of seconds. A wave of fire engulfed the surface of the earth. Soon….everything was gone. The Aurora Alpha soared high above the carnage and into space, breaking free of the final layer of atmosphere that was now nearly nonexistent from the devastating effects of the asteroid.

Caleb is now living on the space station Zebes, one year later….2029 A.E. (After Earth)

The aftermath:

One year later, the Earth remains a desolate planet. The impact crater takes up nearly half of what used to be the Atlantic Ocean floor. Nothing on the planet grows as everything has become a desert. The ruins of buildings continue to crumble and what is left of the atmosphere is toxic. The planet is under quarantine.

The Zebes, Cerci, and Olympus space stations house the survivors of Earth’s destruction. Zebes and Cerci are primarily residential and commercial stations, while Olympus serves as the government and military space station. The LSF command center and a small residential station rest on the light side of the moon near the rock’s northern pole. The facilities stretch deep underground as well as spread out on the surface.

There are multiple industrial stations surrounding the three primary stations. These small stations harvest Dark Matter, a material that was discovered floating around and forming in the void of space. Dark Matter sites are not very large and most are only an acre in radius, but they produce enough energy to power the stations and vessels. It has proven to be a valuable recourse.

For a long time, the people thought they were still the only ones in the universe, until…they came. An alien race known as the Zeroth appeared out of no where and attacked the industrial outposts surrounding Cerci. Olympus scrambled Alpha Aurora fighters and the first battle between the two races erupted. The humans were able to fend off the Zeroth, but only for a short while. A week later, they returned and did even more damage than before. Humanity realized that they were going to need more fire power and better defenses if they were to survive.

To view more information about this roleplay, visit the A.E. OOC

Lokki Zarr-Grungron · #2 (**permalink**) 09-24-2008

The nightmare’s came to him again, the always looked so real. And they were always the same. The air was sucked out of the ship as the rear of ship shattered like a piece of glass. The people on board screaming for him to do something. But there was nothing around him that might help. A piece of what was once his home planet crushing the last of his ship. Nathan shocked, sitting straight up in his bed. They were always the same nightmares, always ready for him when he tried to get some sleep. Looking over at his alarm clock he noticed he had only been asleep for two hours. Another long night. He thought to himself.

The ship’s day cycle started and Nathan was already doing his rounds. On his way to the armoury he came across Jameson. They know each other from back in the UK; Nathan had always commented he found it shameful that Curt had been brought to the universe by an Irish father. “Good morning sir. - “Jameson said with sarcasm. They had been friends for a long time and Curt didn’t like the idea of addressing a friend as a superior. “Sleep well Brigadier Long?” he then finished. Nathan walked on not breaking his stride. “Come on now Curt, you know we can’t be friends when on duty.” He told Jameson as he walked on. “But I had those blasted nightmares again, if you’re so hungry to know.” There was no point in ignoring Curt. Persistent as he was, he was still a good man. “Dude, you need like a doctor doctor for those problems. Was I in it?” Nathan stopped and looked Curt in the eye. “No and no, now you better bugger of and find someone else to bother. I have my duties to perform and I strongly suggest you do the same.” Jameson backed down. He got the message; his friend wasn’t in the best of moods. “See you tonight after duty then, and bring your good humour for once will you?” He told Nathan as he ran back down the way he had come.

**rouge47** · #3 (**permalink**) 09-24-2008

Commander James was sitting in the Congressional Chamber of the Olympus Capital Sector. Each of the three primary stations were divided into sectors. The Capital Sector (which was located on Olympus, the governing space station) was located at the top. Congress was about to pass a bill that would allow for the Luna Strike Force to freely operate their Ion Particle Beam Cannon, or IPBC for short. Rick had to attend, obviously, since he was the Supreme Commander of the LSF. It wouldn't make any sense not to.

Rick found himself falling asleep during the speeches and wished they would just hurry up and sign the damn thing. It was all chaotic, although it was formal. Even after the destruction of Earth, "red tape", it seemed, was still a common thing among the politicians. Rick often found himself wondern why in the world the LSF bothered to save the world leaders first. Most of them were corrupt, pompous jack asses who would only screw mankind over once they were in space.

The final speech was comming to an end. Senator Kelly Johnson was ending her conclusion. It was easy to tell that she wanted to end with a bang, but it was more like an alarm....literally. The Red Alert was sounding and the lights were flashing on the ceiling. The bell toned over and over in Rick's ears and everybody in the chamber seemed to break into an immediate panic. Olympus was under attack.

The Red Alert echoed in Rick’s mind as he raced for the East docks at the station. The Zeroth finally decided that they had had enough of attacking Olympian harvesters and decided to go for the bull’s eye itself. A small Zeroth fleet of command ships was approaching the East sector and soon they would unleash their hoard of fighter vessels upon the station. The alert was quick to gain the attention of the Olympian forces. LSF was also already breaking into action. Their Alpha Auroras were taking off from the lunar station not too far from the primary stations themselves.

Rick pressed in the launch codes and the Echo Aurora fired up. He waited for his co-pilot, NCO Brigadier Nathan Long, to run up and jump in. Rick knew that he surely heard the alarm, but then again he may not even be on Olympus. He decided he couldn't wait.

Rick pressed in the launch codes and the Echo Aurora fired up. The supersonic engines flared to life as the jet hovered above the dock. As soon as he pushed forward on the controls, the jet took off at high speed; through the oxygen barrier at the other end of the docking station. Commander James had just entered the action and he was itching to take out some Zeroth fighter vessels.

“Need a wingman, Commander?” said a voice over the comm. It was Sergeant Charlie White. He had and Rick had been friends for quite a while and White was always his wingman in battle.

“Sure thing, Charlie. Keep those fighters off my tail. I’m going for the big bitch herself.” Rick kicked it into high gear and his wingman did the same. Rick was aiming for the flag ship of the fleet, leading at the front. If he could lodge at least one of his warheads into that thing, then he would give an instant victory to Olympus.

Black Phoenix · #4 (**permalink**) 09-24-2008

Life in Olympus was peaceful until now..Phoenix heard the sounds of the Red Alert.There was panic in the barracks.What to do nowadays for a good night sleep He sighed after that and stood up.There was a door at the middle of the barrack it was a straight shot there but it seemed jam it looks like he was trapped.But above his bed was a vent leading to the hangars.It would take quite some time but it's better then waiting for his fate here.

He got to his supply crate to pick up his uniform and weapons it was to show he was a captain.He got his pistol and shot it at the bolts of the vent.It fell with a kind of screeching sound.Surprisingly he fit through the vents it was cold in there but he managed.He crawled and crawled until he could see some fleets though another vent.He kicked it open with such force the vent fell and he jumped off.

He saw what was happening from the panics of new soldiers."We're all going to DIE!"Some said.He ignored them and went to the East Sector of Olympus.He saw some people bracing themselves from impact of the Zeroths.Seems like they were outnumbered but Captain Phoenix like these kind of odds.He smirked as he kicked the Soda Dispenser at the right of his side and hid behind it quickly.He waited and aimed.All he could do now was be patient.

Redorath · #5 (**permalink**) 09-25-2008

The comm-link buzzed to life, spitting a stream of static through her right ear before being replaced by the neutral tones of a female member of the bridge staff.
'...ectre primary, thi...command. Ho...the signal?'
Kathraya shook her head in disgust, or perhaps revulsion at having that garbled, piercing mess piped straight into her head. 'Verging on Sonic Warfare, ma'am.'
'Conf...looks like...jamming. Compen...now.' A renewed hum of static filled her ears, followed by what sounded like an audible change in frequency, then the voice came through again, preceded by a faint click. 'Any better?'
'Considerably more bearable, command. There's still some distortion on the periphery, but it's clean enough for combat purposes, just don't expect to be able to hear anything over the screams once we launch. Any clues on the source?'
'That's a Negative, Spectre. Likely a jammer, but for all I know it could just be a burned-out circuit.'
Kathraya gave a nod in response, though to anyone watching her it would simply look as if she were talking to herself; it was common enough knowledge that half of the fly-boys never turned their comm systems on. Putting up with this bunch of halfwit adrenaline-junkies was nothing compared to Celes II though. Not to say that she hated being on-planet, quite the opposite infact: she loved fighting on solid ground, with several thousand miles of earth and rock beneath her feet and something resembling an atmosphere around her. It was space she truly despised, but anything endured here paled in comparison to Celes, and it was worth running the risk of being found out and detained just to not be there, even if she was likely about to fly to her death. Needs must, however.

With her head tilted to one side and a finger firmly plugged into her right ear, Kath strolled across the hanger floor, taking large strides over the reflective metallic surface and slowly nearing her craft, a luxuriously rusted, worn and above all else standard Spectre light assault ship, what their Olympian counterparts would refer to rather simplistically as a "bomber": a small single-person craft designed to attack and destroy structures, larger, heavy cruisers and, as far as the majority of her attack force were concerned, "anything else that happens to get in the way".

Kathraya came to a standstill next to the ladder attached to the outside of her cockpit, and pivoted on one foot to face the rest of the hanger and the crew still casually lingering there, her rigorously-clean combat boots issuing a squeak on the unmarred patch of floor beneath her ship as she did so. She'd been busy talking idly to the bridge crew at large during her brief foray around the hangar, a habit that she'd inherited back before the aptly-named Fortune had been reduced to a smouldering hulk in the depths of space, and one that both she and her recently acquired commanding officers had regularly cursed at her for. The bridge crew never seemed to mind though, apparently nobody ever talks to them unless they want something.

Kath's conversation was unfortunately cut short, as the main hanger lights blinked out and drenched the mile long room in claustrophobic darkness. She looked down at where she assumed the ground to be and closed her eyes, waiting for the background chatter in the comm to die off and give her some sort of update on the situation. As soon as she had the thought, a familiar female voice burst onto the line, while at the same time huge red light-panels activated all across the hanger bay, filling the room with a dark crimson glow.
'Looks like somebody upstairs pushed the button, Spectre: you have a go for launch.' The voice reported, taking on a more official tone rather than the relaxed one she'd managed to coax from the crew in the past few minutes.
'Confirmed, command,' She replied, mimicking the air of officialdom as she brought up her head, casting her eyes around the dazed group of bodies bathed in red, and allowing her eyes adjust to the low light reminiscent of space. 'What's our ETA on Olympus?'
'ETA? You're kidding right?'
'What?'
'Spectre Primary, you have about forty seconds before the void between us and them becomes a wall of fire.'

Without thinking, Kathraya's hand immediately reached down to the small black device attached to her belt and pressed a small button situated on the top, switching her active comm channel to the one in closest proximity: the Spectre's frequency.
'Ladies and Gentlemen, this is your Primary speaking' she announced, feigning calmness, 'We have about twenty seconds until imminent death, so if you would all be so kind as to get in your ships and get your shit together, I'd very much appreciate it. MOVE!'
From what Kath could tell in the relatively dim red light, almost the entire population of the hangar instantly began sprinted toward their ships, with many rushing to fasten-up the large amounts of half-worn gear they were wearing mid-run. She watched them scurrying to their respective cockpits for a few seconds, trying not to let the feelings of self-pity and not-quite-regret sneak their way in, then turned on her heels, grabbed the railing on the side of her craft and vaulted up the rungs of the ladder with practised deftness, and her short frame slid into the uncomfortable pilots chair with ease. Kath reached out an arm to the banks of blank screens comprising the majority of the cockpit and flipped a large red switch, causing small specks of green to flash on each panel as the automated systems came to life, closing and sealing the transparent cockpit roof and filling each display with a collection of intricate green diagrams and charts, giving the pilot every minor detail of the crafts status at a glance, all Kath had to do at this point was fasten her harness, which she accomplished without incident.

The crescent-shaped attack ship rose up from the hangar floor on a cushion of nothingness, levitating in thin air mainly thanks to the help of an anti-gravity generator, it gently swivelled to the right to face the vast, imposing black emptiness of space, separated from the command carrier by nothing more than a metre of atmospheric shield. Kathraya flipped a second switch on the control board, a small blue one this time, and spoke into her helmet's integrated microphone.
'Charge your "cutters" and fire your engines people, we are GO for launch. Command, this is Spectre Primary.'
The female comms officer clicked onto the line, 'Ten seconds. What can I do for you Spectre?'
'How's the weather out there?'
'Cold, Spectre. But it's about to get a few thousand degrees warmer.'
'Spectre Primary to Spectre Wing, ignition!'

**rouge47** · #6 (**permalink**) 09-26-2008

Rick had successfully snuck past the first wave of Zeroth fighters, thanks to the stealth abilities of his Echo Aurora. His wingman, White, had gotten involved in a dog-fight on the way. He knew that White would make it out of it; he always did. White's performance in the A.A. was absolutely outstanding and made all of the novice pilotes a jealous bunch. Even Rick had difficulty with White during a skirmish match. Even though the E.A.'s stealth functions kept White from tracking him in a skirmish, he would always find a way to catch Rick off guard.

As the commander approached the Zeroth flagship he noticed a "bomber", or Spectre gunship, leaving one of the hangers. He quickly activated his active-camuflouge to avoid being physically seen. The function required a drain in power however so he simply reduced his speed and cruised gently passed the "bomber". Once he began his approached to the hanger, Rick ranked back on the controls and the E.A. nosed upward towards the bridge. "Hello, baby," he said; giving the oblivious Zeroth officers behind the glass a wave. He flipped a caution glass-protector up to reveal a red "Warhead Arm" switch. He flicked the switch and a red light under the tag "Warhead 1" turned on. He allowed a few seconds for the ballistic to attain a full lock-on. By now the officers were running circles on the bridge, being fully alerted to the lock-on that was transmitted by Rick's stealthy figher. They couldn't see where it was comming from....which made Rick enjoy the scene even more.

The ballistic acquired an un-breakable lock and Rick pressed the red button on his right control. The missile sprang forward into space for two quick seconds before ignited its jet-propulsion thruster. Rick deactivated his active-camo and reared the E.A. around swiftly. He slammed down on the thrust and the jet took off at Mach 1, blazing past the Spectre gunship who by now would have definitly been alerted to what was happening.

The missile surged forward and slammed head-on into the bridge. The explosion vaporized the bridge and lower sectors, leaving a giant hole in the flag ship after the shock faded. With the Zeroth command placed inoperable, Olympian morale would get an outstanding boost and give them enough incentive to fend off the Zeroth invaders. As Rick approached Olympus he decreased his speed and prepared to dock. A few Zeroth landers had already infiltrated the docks and their foot soldiers were trying to pull off a perverted D-Day senario. Typical.

Rick landed the craft with ease and ran away from his pilot's seat. He stood on the platform and reached to his side to grab a mounted AR-39. He punched a button on the other side of him and the lift lowered. He crouched low to get a view of the docks and opened fire on a few Zeroth soldiers close by. Before the lift could touch the floor he dived out and rolled over to a few metal crates. He saw Phoenix drop out of a ventalation shaft.

"Captain!" He yelled, to get his attention.

Lokki Zarr-Grungron · #7 (**permalink**) 09-26-2008

The armoury was quite in the morning, not many troopers would be able to take their routine range tests. Nathan saw the clerk behind his desk and walked over. "Good morning, standard stock check." He said after giving a knock on the office door. The office clerk looked up, surprise in his eyes.
"Good morning sir. What can I do for you?" His voice squeaked out.
"Nothing special. Just the standard stock count. You know the dril."

As they were discussing the new teleporter system the warning lights went on, they were under attack. By instinct Nathan grabbed a near by trolley and threw weapons and ammo on it. “Call hanger bay four, tell them I will be shortly!” He shouted towards the desk clerk as he was already halve way to the teleporter. “Sir! It hasn’t been tested yet on multi celled organisms!” The man called back, dialling the hanger bay none the less.

The teleporter was a recent design, primarily made for quickly transporting weapons and ammo across the space station. There were two modems attached to each other. While one focused on storing the information received by the scanner. The other would send that information to the designated location. The scanner made a model of all monticules’ present in the machine. The particle exhilarator would split the object to monicules' which then were sent trough a tube towards the designated location. On the other end the process would be reversed.

The doors opened and Nathan felt slightly sick. Pushing the trolley ahead of him he noticed the surprised looks on the faces of the hanger bay personnel. “Stop looking stupid and grab a gun! We have a battle to fight!” Nathan shouted at the man surrounding him. He was about to make his way to the Echo when he noticed it was already gone. Curse his impatiens. Nathan thought. James could be just that at times. The Echo was his plaything after all. Nathan quickly turned on his heels and grabbed an AC-52 and a box of matching ammo. If he was going to be trapped in here he might as well put on a good fight. Shouting order left and right to the men present, Nathan started to make a defensive position around the exit doors.

The wait hadn’t been long. A small number of either damaged or out of ammo fighters returned, closely followed by Zeroth personnel carriers. It wasn’t before long that the chaos spread around the hanger bay, the only way to separate friend from foe was by the armour they wore. Nathan wasn’t yet accustomed to his prosthetic leg, but it did little to affect his aim. Already six enemies had died by his hand. As battle waged on the young Brigadier noticed the Echo’s return, the moments pause almost had cost him his life as a wild shot blurred across his vision. His attention was immediately snapped back to when and where.

Redorath · #8 (**permalink**) 09-27-2008

'...ignition!'

Kathraya balled up her fists and delivered a swift punch to two large, round glowing buttons on either side of the control board, simultaneously engaging the engines and killing the anti-grav drive before wrapping both hands around the large black control stick situated in the centre of the gap between her seat and the collection of panels. In the hangar, the luminous blue glow emitted from the 'grav drive underneath the wings of the craft vanished, causing the ship to fall toward the metal floor for several milliseconds before the main engines fully cut-in, spewing twin jets of pale red fire from the rear thrusters and accelerating the small vessel out of the hangar opening with unnatural speed. Kath applied a tiny amount of pressure to the flight-control stick, pulling it backward gently to tilt the nose of the craft upward slightly, in order to counteract the downward fall experienced after shutting down the anti-grav systems, and in a fraction of an instant found herself passing through the grey-white hue of the atmospheric shield and gliding in the calm black infinity of open space.

Except that in this particular case, the space wasn't all that open. A thousand bolts of kaleidoscopic colour flashed overhead, causing hundreds of minute explosions as they impacted their targets. Plumes of grayish smoke hung in the vacuum, crowded around the dented forms of disabled interceptors and the great gashes in larger ships, their hulls ripped apart by never-ending streams of cannon shells and melted from the intense heat of passing bolts of plasma. Small groups of the dull-grey, vaguely triangular shapes typical of Olympian fighter-craft blurred past her view-screen, followed half a second later by a flurry of spear-shaped homing missiles and the long, sleek reflective black bodies of their Zeroth counterparts, engaged in the relentless pursuit of a "dog-fight". Truly, space couldn't get much more crowded than this.

Most of it was inconsequential now, though; atleast a couple of handfuls of Zeroth troop carriers had already made it safely through this figurative minefield and boarded the space-station known as Olympus. Even if the actual number was only small, what happened inside that vast metal construct was all that mattered; the battle outside could be easily won, but if they failed to take or at least seriously damage the station, a torrent of fresh reinforcements from the sector would render their victory meaningless. But if Olympus was captured, or even destroyed outright, the blow to both Olympian morale and their infrastructure, not to mention the death of their military commanders, would likely bring a standstill to their operations; the war would be won, regardless of what happened out in the black. It was a nice, idealistic thought, but so absurdly far from the truth that Kathraya almost had to forcibly hold back laughter; it all sounded eerily similar to one of those nonsensical propaganda-spewing newscasts. Kathraya didn't have the luxury of being on any of those transports; the perilous void was her battlefield, and little as she liked it, she'd be stuck here until she could blast her way through the arrays of sparring ships and join in the "ground" assault, but for now that was a long way off.

Kath gave the flight-stick a sharp tug to the right after exiting the immediate area of the carrier, and her craft neatly obliged by darting in the same direction, then gently pushed to the left and back to the centre again in order to straighten the ship once it was parallel with the cruiser.
'Spectre wing,' She called into the communicator. No response. 'Are you all deaf? Spectre wing, what's the delay?'
A brief spurt of quiet static filled the cockpit, followed by the voice of a young man. 'This is Spectre Secondary Lukas, reporting. Apologies for the silence, commander, we're still having some communication trouble down here.'
'Yeah right,' Kath whispered to the cockpit, then looked up to the central panels and pressed a collection of rectangular green buttons, transmitting here co-ordinates to the absent pilots. 'Never mind that, we're behind schedule as it is. Just haul it as fast as you can and form up on my position, before I consider you all expendable, got it?'
There was a notable pause that Kath thought was likely hesitation, Hesitation coupled with fear, she thought, and smiled as she did so, They have every reason to be afraid, but right now I'm at the top of that list. 'Confirmed. Firing in three...two--' The voice from inside the hangar vanished, washed away from the channel without warning by a sudden flood of interference, then the channel simply went dead. Far back, behind the view of the comparatively tiny assault-ship, a bright orange surge of energy erupted from the bridge of the command carrier. The blinding flash of white light it generated was viewable on the very periphery of the cockpits vision radius, but it was enough to catch Kathraya's attention, and she rapidly keyed in a sequence of numbers on the pad to the left of the control stick, which she then twisted, activating the auxiliary starboard thrusters in order to quickly spin the ship around and get a better view at what could have caused that blast of light.

Kathraya slumped back in her seat at the sight before her; the command carrier, Eternal, was a fiery wreck. The bridge--the area which was most likely the target--was obscured by a ball of white and orange fire, which rapidly grew and subsequently vanished, sending visible shock-waves throughout the entire ship and spitting out vast columns of d fire and smoke out into space, along with chunks of a dark, shining metal. Kath lowered her hand, which had instinctively raised itself over her eyes to shield them from the intense light, and took in the destruction dealt to the ship she had been on barely a minute ago. What little was left of the bridge took only the form of blackened, melted heaps of slag, draping out through the few intact portholes and almost gushing from the empty crater that was the front of the vessel, like some twisted, frozen sea of metal. What was left of the explosion was reduced the a blanket of amber flames, gently twisting its way through space and radiating outward from the impact site, consuming what was left of any escaped atmosphere as it went, before it too died away into nothing. There were no visible signs of survivors; anyone and anything in the immediate vicinity would have been vapourised instantly, including the communications equipment (which relayed all Zeroth comm traffic by default to their target ships), and from the looks of it there would be few if any escapees from the rest of the ship; violent surges in the vessels structure caused by the explosion had torn large holes in the hull, along which there were occurring masses of tiny explosions, serving only to spread the carnage even further across the ship.

By the time Kath had taken in the extent of the damage, the port hangar was already aflame and rapidly collapsing in on itself, belching huge tongues of fire from the large central opening. Several seconds later, the majority of the fires plaguing the ship put themselves out, devouring what little atmosphere and oxygen was left on their rampage through the Eternal. Without those shining gems of orange light adorning it, the carrier now looked a shadow of its former self; much of the shining Zeroth metal had been dulled and blackened beyond all recognition, and what was left had been melted away, revealing the brittle skeletal structure beneath. The entire ship itself had also begun to tilt on its side, succumbing to the gravitational pull of Sol and its surrounding planets now that the vessel had lost power, and it began to drift, inch by inch, toward the centre of the solar system.

Kathraya closed her eyes in respect for the loss of the ship and the majority of its crew, then gritted her teeth and flipped a crimson switch on her communications panel. She took several deep breaths, then spoke solemnly over the mic. 'This is Spectre Wing, broadcasting on emergency channel IC-1, any friendly ships receiving this message, please switch over to this frequency.'
Kath returned power to the Spectres engines and dove into the still ensuing--though considerably died down--battle over Olympus, emptying several hundred rounds onto surrounding Olympian fighters from the Spectres four wing-mounted 20mm Auto-Cannons, while waiting for some kind of response from the ghost-like Zeroth craft around her. Finally, there came a response.
'Spectre Wing, this is Raptor Primary Jakarta, what are you doing on this channel?' Asked the man on the other end, a young one from the sounds of it, and he obviously didn't know who he was addressing.
'Raptor Primary Jakarta, are you blind? Go and feast your eyes on sector 3C.'
There was a long, agonising pause before Jakarta came back on the channel.
'Ah, I see.' He said, in an almost apologetic tone. 'Eternal?'
'Got it in one.'
'Fuck. Any word from central, orders?'
'Nothing, and none of the other ships are responding. Hold for a second.' Kath flipped the dark red switch to the "off" position, then flipped it back and forth several times before switching it back to "on". 'This is Spectre Primary, Spectre Wing, do you read?'
'Confirmed Spectre Primary, this is Secondary Lukas reporting. I have Tertiary Keal with me.'
'Is that everyone from Spectre?'
'Seems to be the case, I've had no luck reaching the others, they're probably buried in the slagheap of the Not-So-Eternal-After-All.'
'Have some respect for the unfortunately-dead, Secondary, and form up on my position while you're at it. Raptor Wing, still alive?'
'For as long as we can manage, orders?'

'This is Spectre Primary to all vessels on IC-1, we're going to get some payback.'

Gat · #9 (**permalink**) 09-27-2008

Raulka had been in his cockpit before the Eternal bridge crew had even sent down orders to launch. While many other pilots were lounging around in only half their flight suits, Raulka had been running pre-flight checks as the order came down and the first few ships exited the hanger Raulka manoeuvred his fighter for a clear run at the exit, the unfortunate thing being that their were a half dozen other fighters and bombers in front of him. Listening to what comm chatter he could catch as he waited for his turn to launch He was caught a little of guard as the Eternal seemed to convulse. With nothing but static filling the comm channels now Raulka snapped back to attention, for a few more moments nothing happened aside from the light shudder through the ship. The craft in front of him were speeding up their launches considerably now, whatever was happening with the Eternal no one wanted to stick around to find out what.

There was only one craft ahead of him when the ceiling of the hanger cracked and orange flame began shooting from the opening. the craft in front of him fired its thrusters and Raulka hit his a fraction later, it was a risky manoeuvre to make but he would rather not stay in a hanger that was falling apart. He barely got his wing clear of the fuselage of the craft in front as he passed through the now flickering atmospheric shield and powered out into space. Once he was clear Raulka swung his small raptor fighter around to see what had happened, the visage of the Eternal the greeted him was one he almost didn't believe, at least it explained why communications were down. following protocol and switching to scanning the emergency channels. catching some of the chatter between the primary's and secondarys, Raulka simply signalled raptor primary that he was about and monitoring the channel. Gunning his engines Raulka sped towards the fight, he needed to join up with his wing. After all with the Eternal down, payback sounded like fun.

**rouge47** · #10 (**permalink**) 09-29-2008

"Good work on taking out the Eternal, Commander," came General Brakon's voice over James' comm. Brakon was the Five-Star heroic general of Olympus and a well-known adversary of the Zeroth. He had single-handedly defeated an entire fleet of twenty Zeroth Battle Cruisers only four months ago around Mars. Without the interception of his Alpha Aurora, outfitted with a 50-kiloton nuclear warhead, the fleet would have possibly overun Ceres, the target at that time.

"Now that you're back on-station, let's go over a few of the basics...shall we?"

"Whatever," Rick replied, ducking futher behind the crate as Zeroth plasma rounds soared over his head. "You're not gonna baby-sit me are ya?"

"Not at all," Brakon said, laughing a little over the comm. "Make sure you get over to your co-pilot, Nathan. The lad and his team have been pinned down on the far side of the docks, just ahead of your position. I'm relaying some heavy firepower to you now, via the teleporter module behind your E.A."

There was a loud zap behind Rick and he pulled himself around on the floor to look past the underbelly of his Aurora and at the teleporter terminal behind it. The things were new and still in their development process, but they were useful, nonetheless. What hadn't been there only a few seconds ago, was now a fully-automatic STS Ballistic Launcher and a full stash of rockets to go along with it. The shoulder-to-surface rocket launcher is the latest of its kind. It's able to fire up to six rounds of miniature warheads before having to reload the rocket pack. The STS was originally designed to do as its name suggests; fire at surface targets. But recent design modifications has given it some air-lock capabilities allowing it to fire at aircraft as well; as long as it is within a short range. For long-ranged anti-air, the soldier should use the SAM-44 Personal Launcher. For a direct assualt from Zeroth transports, Rick would have preferred the later, but since the Zeroth have already landed, he would just have to deal with the STS.

Rick glanced left, then right, then left one more time before jumping up to dash underneath the E.A. As he approached the module, he kicked sideways to force his body into a slide. His right foot touched the platform of the teleportation module and he cautiously leaned forward to grab the STS and the backpack of ammunition. Plasma rounds nearly nailed him on all sides if it hadn't been for his quick response to lay back after grabbing the weapon and ammo.

"Nicely done," Braken commented. "Now get over there and take care of those transports. Those mounted cannons are using suppression fire on our troops."

"I thought you wanted me to get Nathan and his team out of that hole!" Rick often wondered how organized the Olympian Regular Army really is. They always seemed like the rambo type to him. Although, he did admire their swift action and quick retaliation techniques.

"The only cat-walk you can take to get to him is the one that runs right past those Zeroth transports. They're the ones pinning our troops and preventing us from getting these bastard Zeroth out of our station. Take 'em out!"

Even though Braken was right, he didn't appreciate the barking of orders. Rick was the damn Supreme Commander of the LSF. He should be leading his men and not taking orders from another military branch. Rick decided to let it slide just this once and got up to dash over to the cat-walk, ducking low along the way to avoid being hit by a plasma round...or even friendly fire.

Thread Tools
Show Printable Version Email this Page
Display Modes
Linear Mode Switch to Hybrid Mode Switch to Threaded Mode

Play-by-Post Forum Roleplaying Games

Roleplayer Guild - Forum Roleplaying Games