The Red Zephyr Member
The Fractured Mind of a Broken Soul
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- Old Guild Username: Zephyr116
- Joined: 11 yrs ago
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- The Red Zephyr 11 yrs ago
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Bio
I am Lord and Master of the McUniverse... unless Ronald is around.
We don't talk about Ronald.
Most Recent Posts
Yeah, so a bunch of dudes are flying over the city in formation and stuff towards military installations in the city (there are quite a few bases and stuff since it's the capital of a country with a strong militarized central government). Not everyone has to see them, but a few doing so would add to (or start) the "Something's coming" mood.
As the shuttle hummed onward and the men populating it chattered on, Weston hung his head in contemplation, feeling more and more uneasy as time went on. Eventually the chatter faded completely into the back of his mind as he thought about the colonel's words before, as if he had known something. The worry ate at the corners of the captains mind until a shoulder nudged him back into reality. He looked over to see one of his lieutenants, Ramir looking doubtfully at him. "What's the damage cap'n?" he asked only half-sarcastically.
Joey Ramir had been the more laid-back of Weston's officers, and also one of the best fighters. Despite his nonchalant demeanor though, Ramir knew how to motivate men and fight through a tough situation. In some ways he was almost a role model for Weston. Straightening his posture, he replied as confidently as he could muster, "Nothing Joey, just getting my head back into field work." True, Weston hadn't been in the field for over a year, but his head had no problems adjusting. He knew showing his doubts about the mission would weaken his team, and if what the colonel said should be taken to heart that would be a bad move.
Finally all the conversation ceased as the shuttle's intercom made a subtle beep and a woman's voice followed: "Now approaching mission objective. Opening all viewports." Suddenly, dozens of slats of metal slid apart on the shuttle doors, revealing large screens that became virtual windows into the outside. The skyline of the city immediately came into view, coaxing several 'ooh's and 'aah's from the men. Weston himself couldn't help but be humbled by the magnificent sight, for his trips to the capital were few and far-between. However, something was off in the picture: everything was normal. The beautiful, massive city was going about business as usual while an entire battalion--maybe more--soared into town like they owned the place.
Son, he could feel his momentum being slowed as the shuttle began decelerating, prompting several moans from the other soldiers. Often times shuttle transport causes sickness from the sudden change in speed during landing. As if on cue, the intercom sounded again, and with it the same voice: "Destination in less than one minute. All passengers recover any belongings and fasten all equipment." Following the voice's orders, the upwards of twenty men all stood up and double-checked every strap and compartment on their gear and threw their longrifles back over their shoulders.
Weston did the same, then grabbed onto the safety rail above his head before speaking to his crew. "Okay boys," he began, yelling over the increasingly loud hum of the shuttle as it slowed for landing "You and the rest of the 104th will assemble as instructed in Fort Readon's courtyard and Brigadier General Masshu will begin briefing us on the state of the situation here in the capital." That was basically the gist of what every company leader had been told: To waltz into the capital in massive force, then stand in a line and wait for someone to tell them why.
Just as Weston finished, the shuttle lowered to a stop, quieting the humming once more. The doors slid open as the panels realigned and the men began hopping off one-by-one. Seated right next to the door, Weston was one of the first off and immediately began helping his men off the craft. "C'mon boys," he called after letting Ramir off the shuttle, "align with your platoon leader and the rest of the company, then fall on me." Then, he turned around to see several more shuttles lowering onto the paved landing strip--far more than what had left Maxwell. How many troops do we need here? he thought worriedly before turning his gaze to the skyline over the fort's metal wall.
Joey Ramir had been the more laid-back of Weston's officers, and also one of the best fighters. Despite his nonchalant demeanor though, Ramir knew how to motivate men and fight through a tough situation. In some ways he was almost a role model for Weston. Straightening his posture, he replied as confidently as he could muster, "Nothing Joey, just getting my head back into field work." True, Weston hadn't been in the field for over a year, but his head had no problems adjusting. He knew showing his doubts about the mission would weaken his team, and if what the colonel said should be taken to heart that would be a bad move.
Finally all the conversation ceased as the shuttle's intercom made a subtle beep and a woman's voice followed: "Now approaching mission objective. Opening all viewports." Suddenly, dozens of slats of metal slid apart on the shuttle doors, revealing large screens that became virtual windows into the outside. The skyline of the city immediately came into view, coaxing several 'ooh's and 'aah's from the men. Weston himself couldn't help but be humbled by the magnificent sight, for his trips to the capital were few and far-between. However, something was off in the picture: everything was normal. The beautiful, massive city was going about business as usual while an entire battalion--maybe more--soared into town like they owned the place.
Son, he could feel his momentum being slowed as the shuttle began decelerating, prompting several moans from the other soldiers. Often times shuttle transport causes sickness from the sudden change in speed during landing. As if on cue, the intercom sounded again, and with it the same voice: "Destination in less than one minute. All passengers recover any belongings and fasten all equipment." Following the voice's orders, the upwards of twenty men all stood up and double-checked every strap and compartment on their gear and threw their longrifles back over their shoulders.
Weston did the same, then grabbed onto the safety rail above his head before speaking to his crew. "Okay boys," he began, yelling over the increasingly loud hum of the shuttle as it slowed for landing "You and the rest of the 104th will assemble as instructed in Fort Readon's courtyard and Brigadier General Masshu will begin briefing us on the state of the situation here in the capital." That was basically the gist of what every company leader had been told: To waltz into the capital in massive force, then stand in a line and wait for someone to tell them why.
Just as Weston finished, the shuttle lowered to a stop, quieting the humming once more. The doors slid open as the panels realigned and the men began hopping off one-by-one. Seated right next to the door, Weston was one of the first off and immediately began helping his men off the craft. "C'mon boys," he called after letting Ramir off the shuttle, "align with your platoon leader and the rest of the company, then fall on me." Then, he turned around to see several more shuttles lowering onto the paved landing strip--far more than what had left Maxwell. How many troops do we need here? he thought worriedly before turning his gaze to the skyline over the fort's metal wall.
It's gonna get pretty intense dude. Godzilla'd be like "Damn son!"
Back from work ladies, gentlemen, and Kish. I'll probly post, which should prompt everyone to be like "Why the fuck is there a fleet of military shuttles entering the city?"
Posted again with fitting music to soothe the nonhappening of stuff.
The echoing or core engines, the loading of soldiers into shuttles, and the barking of orders from officers all mixed into a familiar sounds to Weston. He had first heard this medley before fighting the insurrection, then again when raiding illegal core distributors, and now ten-fold. Something big was coming and Weston Meyer could feel it in his bones.
MUSIC
"According to extremely reliable intel, the capital of Sovereign may be in immediate danger from hostile forces," the colonel had said moments earlier during the briefing. "The orders are to supply the city with heavy military presence and employ a state of martial law in the extreme circumstance of enemy occupation." The room was silent with confusion for w while after he finished. The orders were vague and illogical.
"Sir," another captain replied, "I'm sorry but what enemy? That kind of occupation is better suited for a siege than protecting our own capital." Weston couldn't help but agree, since dozens of platoons were being sent into the city rather than around it's border protecting it. Not to mention that Sovereign was far from the sea where Henele or Tribus nations would attack first. The only way to attack the city directly would have to be from inside the province, but there hadn't been any insurrections in Gaia for decades.
"These orders come straight from the top and are as need-to-know as it gets," The Colonel continued in his gruff, commanding voice. However, Weston could hear a shred of doubt inside the man's tone. "And all you need to know is that the troops stationed here at Maxwell are to deploy to Sovereign at once, is that clear?"
The captain lowered his eyes humbly and relpied with a simple "Yes sir."
The colonel eyed everyone sitting at the multiple rows of desks before finishing, "Will that be all with the questions?" Each officer remained silent. "Well then you're all dismissed. Begin loading all shuttles and prepare your men. We leave at oh-nine-hundred." Each officer in the briefing room stood up almost in unison and saluted before exiting one-after-another."
Weston found himself being one of the last to leave, and was surprised when the colonel addressed him. "Captain Meyer," he said in a quieter voice than with the briefing, "may I speak with you for a moment?" Curious, Weston nodded and stepped toward Colonel Reyborn as the last of the other officers left the room. "Captain," the colonel began, "where was your objection?"
Puzzled, Weston replied, "Excuse me sir?"
"Where was your objection captain? In every major moperation by this company you've spoken out against the inconsistencies in orders or the needless use of force. You were quiet just now."
Weston wrinkled his brow in confusion, recalling his outspokenness, but also recalling the colonels disdain of it. "I'm sorry sir, would you rather have me defying orders? If I recall, you don't approve of such behavior."
Reyborn raised an eyebrow before stepping forward and placing his hands on Weston's shoulders. "Do you know why you're here right now, leading the 104th like I did when you first joined? It's not because you're a soldier, but a leader: A man. We've had our disagreements, but you'd have no value if you were a mindless drone."
"Sir," Weston answered, now completely perplexed, "What are you trying to say exactly?"
"I'm saying..." the colonel pause, apparently in thought, "I'm telling you to keep your head screwed on straight, because all those boys out there might be counting on you when it comes down to it. Big things are coming, and I can feel it in my bones."
The more Weston thought about it the more he began to worry. Something in his stomach just wouldn't sit right, and somehow he knew it never would again for a while.
"All hands prepare for ascension!" He suddenly heard a voice call over the intercom. "Next stop, The Gem of the Mainland, Sovereign." Weston suddenly felt himself rising as the shuttle doors sealed and the craft took to the sky.
MUSIC
"According to extremely reliable intel, the capital of Sovereign may be in immediate danger from hostile forces," the colonel had said moments earlier during the briefing. "The orders are to supply the city with heavy military presence and employ a state of martial law in the extreme circumstance of enemy occupation." The room was silent with confusion for w while after he finished. The orders were vague and illogical.
"Sir," another captain replied, "I'm sorry but what enemy? That kind of occupation is better suited for a siege than protecting our own capital." Weston couldn't help but agree, since dozens of platoons were being sent into the city rather than around it's border protecting it. Not to mention that Sovereign was far from the sea where Henele or Tribus nations would attack first. The only way to attack the city directly would have to be from inside the province, but there hadn't been any insurrections in Gaia for decades.
"These orders come straight from the top and are as need-to-know as it gets," The Colonel continued in his gruff, commanding voice. However, Weston could hear a shred of doubt inside the man's tone. "And all you need to know is that the troops stationed here at Maxwell are to deploy to Sovereign at once, is that clear?"
The captain lowered his eyes humbly and relpied with a simple "Yes sir."
The colonel eyed everyone sitting at the multiple rows of desks before finishing, "Will that be all with the questions?" Each officer remained silent. "Well then you're all dismissed. Begin loading all shuttles and prepare your men. We leave at oh-nine-hundred." Each officer in the briefing room stood up almost in unison and saluted before exiting one-after-another."
Weston found himself being one of the last to leave, and was surprised when the colonel addressed him. "Captain Meyer," he said in a quieter voice than with the briefing, "may I speak with you for a moment?" Curious, Weston nodded and stepped toward Colonel Reyborn as the last of the other officers left the room. "Captain," the colonel began, "where was your objection?"
Puzzled, Weston replied, "Excuse me sir?"
"Where was your objection captain? In every major moperation by this company you've spoken out against the inconsistencies in orders or the needless use of force. You were quiet just now."
Weston wrinkled his brow in confusion, recalling his outspokenness, but also recalling the colonels disdain of it. "I'm sorry sir, would you rather have me defying orders? If I recall, you don't approve of such behavior."
Reyborn raised an eyebrow before stepping forward and placing his hands on Weston's shoulders. "Do you know why you're here right now, leading the 104th like I did when you first joined? It's not because you're a soldier, but a leader: A man. We've had our disagreements, but you'd have no value if you were a mindless drone."
"Sir," Weston answered, now completely perplexed, "What are you trying to say exactly?"
"I'm saying..." the colonel pause, apparently in thought, "I'm telling you to keep your head screwed on straight, because all those boys out there might be counting on you when it comes down to it. Big things are coming, and I can feel it in my bones."
The more Weston thought about it the more he began to worry. Something in his stomach just wouldn't sit right, and somehow he knew it never would again for a while.
"All hands prepare for ascension!" He suddenly heard a voice call over the intercom. "Next stop, The Gem of the Mainland, Sovereign." Weston suddenly felt himself rising as the shuttle doors sealed and the craft took to the sky.
Ah, soon the proverbial feces will indeed hit the air-circulating device. It'll be marvelous.
The poorly-lit silence of Captain Meyer's office was quite unwelcome. Weston prefered moving and being busy to sitting at a desk. This lifestyle wasn't exactly the kind of thing he would imagine his uncle saying was "his path" or "where his heart would lead him". With a deep sigh, Weston folded his hands on the back of his head and rested his forehead on the cold fake-wood surface of the desk. His hair brushed the stack of paper in the upper right corner, reminding him of the paperwork he still needed to complete before ten-hundred hours this morning. He focused his mind on the faint sounds of marching and yelling from outside, imagining himself out there giving and taking orders. However the prevelance of the sounds were a little more than usual, since the base had been mostly inactive for the past few days.
As Weston let out a quiet groan, the doorhandle to his office clicked and turned and the door swung open. Caught by suprise without a knock, Weston flung himself back into correct posture and tried to reach for a pen to look busier. Unfortunately his haste knocked the cup of pens over and the intruder saw the whole mess. He looked up to thankfully see, not a superior, but his own Lieutenant Riley Maize. Slightly less embarrassed than he might be, Weston propped the cup back up and stated, "At ease," the moment Maize straightened her posture at the door. She quickly complied before Weston asked, "What is it lieutenant?"
"The 104th is deploying today sir," she replied, sounding a bit surprised by the statement. "Colonel Reyborn issued the order to the whole base. All companies are being deployed."
"Deployed?" Weston asked. "Where are we going?" It was odd for an entire company, let alone several, to be so abruptly sent off unless of an emergency. The last time the entire 104th was on a single mission was to quell the insurrection in northeast Valira seven years ago.
"The capital sir. There must be something urgent occuring in Sovereign. The colonel asked for you right away. He's meeting with the other officers right now," Lieutenant Maize finished. After Weston nodded and waved her off, she saluted before turning back down the hall from whence she came.
Groaning, Captain Meyer stood from his desk, sliding the rolling chair back before straightening up his formal attire. Strange, he thought to himself before making his way through the door toward the briefing room.
As Weston let out a quiet groan, the doorhandle to his office clicked and turned and the door swung open. Caught by suprise without a knock, Weston flung himself back into correct posture and tried to reach for a pen to look busier. Unfortunately his haste knocked the cup of pens over and the intruder saw the whole mess. He looked up to thankfully see, not a superior, but his own Lieutenant Riley Maize. Slightly less embarrassed than he might be, Weston propped the cup back up and stated, "At ease," the moment Maize straightened her posture at the door. She quickly complied before Weston asked, "What is it lieutenant?"
"The 104th is deploying today sir," she replied, sounding a bit surprised by the statement. "Colonel Reyborn issued the order to the whole base. All companies are being deployed."
"Deployed?" Weston asked. "Where are we going?" It was odd for an entire company, let alone several, to be so abruptly sent off unless of an emergency. The last time the entire 104th was on a single mission was to quell the insurrection in northeast Valira seven years ago.
"The capital sir. There must be something urgent occuring in Sovereign. The colonel asked for you right away. He's meeting with the other officers right now," Lieutenant Maize finished. After Weston nodded and waved her off, she saluted before turning back down the hall from whence she came.
Groaning, Captain Meyer stood from his desk, sliding the rolling chair back before straightening up his formal attire. Strange, he thought to himself before making his way through the door toward the briefing room.
It wasn't a complaint, I just thought it was funny
Sage said
That's not meta that's just similar lore
True I suppose meta would be more like a book called "Sanctuary". I still wouldn't call it lore though.
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