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  3. The only way to be sure.

    Something has been unleashed on Ganymede and a clandestine operation to clear up the mess has begun.

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JUPITER The Only Way To Be Sure

Discussion in 'Open Roleplay' started by HSAR, Jun 16, 2018.

  1. Krzysztof Wierzbowski

    Character

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    96
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    Bio
    The briefing image had raised more questions than it had answered. The grainy images looked like some of new sleek mech or power armour. The way it moved, it was just wrong, it looked too smooth to be a machine. The rest of his squad were in the dark as much as him. Still he had a few surprises up his sleeve. Some red marked HE rounds and blue tipped armour piercing.

    Any thoughts, worries, or predictions, went out the window at the gut wrenching crash. He felt his bodyweight slam tight against the straps. His hands tightened their grip, trying to fight the wave of nausea in his stomach. "O Boże". He screwed his eyes shut but that just made it worse, at least then he could brace himself for the sickening lurches.

    We're going down. That realisation alone made him want to get sick. "Kurwa". He tried to force his breathing to slow. He didn't want his last few seconds of life to be him pissing himself and screaming in fear.
     
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  2. Tobias Krehl

    Character

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    Fingers wrapped tightly around whatever he could reach, two straps being barely enough to keep him still.

    There was a violent shaking, and this his teeth clamped shut together.

    For a half a moment he wished that he'd brought a mouth guard or something of the sort. His stomach flipped, he felt bile rise in his throat. Tobi took in a breath, swallowing hard and trying his best not to throw up the contents of his stomach on the inside of his helmet. Fingers tightened again, knuckles turning white.

    He didn't want to die here.

    His eyes wandered slowly over towards his squadmates, the other Marines that surrounded them. They all wore helmets similar to his, but body language made things more than obvious. All of them were thinking the exact same thing he was. All of them were terrified in their own way, all of them just wanted to survive.
     
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  3. James Ung

    Character

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    HSAR
    Staff Sergeant Ung watched Lieutenant Iverson's unannounced departure with a slight sinking feeling. He liked her a lot, but an uncontrolled fall from this height was bad news. Gruneham might be able to do something for her, if she was lucky, but inwardly he rather doubted it.

    Well, there was nothing he could do. Fighting the savage realities of centripetal force, he staggered up and took a position braced against the furthest interior of the cabin facing backwards - the position with the best hope of staying locked down during the crash. With Sophie gone, he had command of Avatar - and the mission had to go on.

    "Yeager Ops, Titan. I need a limited evacuation of Bridgewater civilian areas. Repeat, limited evacuation of Bridgewater immediate area. Please confirm."

    He got back nothing but static. Shortly after the channel dropped entirely, with no indication anything had ever been sent or received. He sighed, reached for the cargo magnetic locks and clamped himself down with an electromagnet rated for a hundred thousand Newtons - ten tons, Earthside.

    Next move. He checked the maps and discovered, with mild surprise and no little sense of irony, that they were going to be landing in an industrial research area mostly occupied by Protogen laboratories. There was just something appropriate about it.
     
  4. HSAR

    Writer

    Messages:
    99
    IMPACT

    The crash is hard. During basic training you underwent certification on the Hard Impact Escape Training course (the famous "Crash Course"), which included some simulated forced landings, but this is considerably more violent even than that. Amidst dimly-heard yelling from the cockpit, the g-forces pick up until your jaw is slammed hard enough inside your helmet to make your teeth ring - once, twice - and then you lose count and focus on holding on to your restraints instead. You have just a handful of instants of consciousness that, afterwards, you later recognise as the impact itself.

    Arms tensed against the crushing force. Helmet slammed against neckrest. Whole body thrown like a ragdoll. Darkness.

    There's no possibility of staying conscious. Your life is now in the hands of aerospace engineers hundreds of millions of kilometres away.



    The following groups wake up, if not at the same time, then within the same timeframe - but in this order. You wake up upside down, the Black Kite having rolled over on impact.



    You come to in a rush, all your senses screaming at once. Your helmet smells of stale air. Your neck, shoulders, chest and back all ache in unique ways. There's a thin taste of blood in your mouth. Fighting it all off, you try to look around. Nausea rises unbidden from that effort and you try to relax, suddenly realising that you're hanging from your straps - upside down.

    Tapping at the controls of your suit, you manage to reset your HUD after two attempts and are able to check its systems. A good chunk of the oxygen is gone, and the recycler isn't 100%, but nothing that looks like it'll kill you in the next five minutes. You try and check your squad's status - nothing. You're not sure if comms are down or if the crash damaged your gear.

    You look around a bit more, instead, ignoring the disorientation. Your eyes have adjusted a bit, and your helmet goes to low-light amp. People are hanging from their straps, motionless - without the squad datalink you can't tell whether they're unconscious or dead. The Black Kite itself is definitely dead. No lights, no data connection, no power of any kind. The door to the cockpit is closed and no sound comes from within. You have no information about the damage the power pack suffered or any idea how long the containment will keep a damaged fuel cell safe.

    There is no sound from outside, but there is some light coming in - the cargo ramp didn't lock up properly before the crash. It's buckled, covered in hydraulic fluid and clearly inoperable, but there might be just enough room for one person to crawl through with their gear. You look down at your restraints, hesitating. The manual latch seems to stare at you balefully, promising a rough drop to the ground.
     
    #24 HSAR, Jun 26, 2018
    Last edited: Jun 27, 2018
  5. Jonah Heaton

    Character

    Messages:
    4
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    HSAR
    Everyone on the train car felt it. The impact was a dull vibration that even the maglev suspension couldn't suppress entirely. Still more inflammatory, the lights dimmed and flickered for a second before coming back on. Without warning, the train car decelerated sharply - causing those who were standing to stagger and lean against their neighbours. The train continued braking, switched track and finally glided into a station Jonah recognised as Bridgewater. He had been working here last week, in the Horizon Flight Systems offices with Sara from the next cubicle over. They had been installing new Gen5 controllers in their HVAC circuit.

    He looked around while the train slowed properly and came to a halt. People were picking themselves up and apologising. An older woman at the end of the car was being helped to her feet by a handful of good Samaritans. The doors hissed open smartly, and someone came on over the tannoy.

    "Ladies and gentlemen, this is Ganymede Rapid Transit Authority speaking. We apologise for the disruption, but there's been a local traffic control problem and we're just putting a hold on the express lines for the time being. Lowrail and walkways are still moving, but otherwise sit tight and we'll get you all underway again as soon as we can."

    There was some grumbling from the dazed commuters, but it was all relatively good-natured. The trains were fast, cheap and reliable enough most of the time - Jonah couldn't remember the last time there had been a serious delay. They all knew something big had just happened, and there was no need to grumble about it.

    Then it happened again. Another impact, much closer. With the doors open and the maglev locked to the platform they felt and heard it. There was a hard impact accompanied by the sound of escaping air, the latter of which was guaranteed gut-clenching horror for anyone who had spent time in space. It was a few seconds before some automatic system sealed the breach, which spoke to the extent of the damage. The yells and screams of those who had been taken by surprise and knocked over came at the same time as the lights and screens dimmed once again. This time they dimmed further, and finally went out - leaving the train cars perched on the platform in darkness only alleviated by faint green lights above the emergency exits.

    Jonah pulled out his hand terminal, half intending to message his boss and half intending to find out what was going on. Neither plan came to pass; the display said no signal. After a moment, it went blank altogether. He tapped the power button and it booted, showing no signal once again, before going out completely. It didn't power back on.

    "You too?"

    A Belter woman showed him her hand terminal, which was also dark. Jonah nodded. She looked up and down the train car, where the same scene was playing out, and did the Belter hand shrug.

    "Guess we're walking, then."

    "Guess."
     
  6. Krzysztof Wierzbowski

    Character

    Messages:
    96
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    Waking up was the worst part. The slowly increasing pain as his senses came back online and reported back with various dismal updates. Muscle aches, his head pounding worse than from a hangover, he could taste blood in his mouth. Krzysztof tried moving a little and immediately regretted it, it just sent spikes of more pain through him.

    He blinked to try and clear his vision. Other marines were slumped in their harnesses, hanging limp like puppets with their strings cut. The dizziness and light headed feeling began to make sense. Krzy gritted his teeth and did his best to brace himself but there was no easy way to get down. He hit the manual switch and dropped to the ground. A spasm of pain went through his back from his landing and he sobbed into the comm. Marine armour was sturdy but he wasn't made out of iron. There were going to be some interesting bruises after this all.

    He pushed himself up onto his knees, using one hand to steady himself while he rose on shaky legs. More unstable than a newborn foal, he retrieved his rifle, checking a magazine was secure in it. He keyed his comm, hoping to hear someone, anyone, "Hello?"
     
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  7. Lewis Masters

    Character

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    HSAR
    Spc Masters turned around at a clattering from one of the Marines. Wierzbowski - he was secretly a little glad. He was a tough one, and always had been.

    "Wierzbowski. I'm up. Status yellow. We're down four - the ell-tee and de Vries made it out before the landing, and that's two, but Krehl and Price aren't in their seats. No sign of them yet."

    He was glad that there was no light in the passenger cabin. His HUD painted his left leg and arm a conveniently abstract orange, representing severe damage to multiple systems, but he was happy to not know the specifics for now. They had to get out, find a secure location, and re-establish contact. Biofoam would hold him together until that point.

    Servos whined and whirred angrily when he straightened up from his position near the door mechanism. It was completely dead, but it seemed like a cut to the correct hydraulic line would release the locks and allow them to push the ramp at least a little further open.
     
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  8. Aaron Price

    Character

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    Raziel
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    "I'm here," mumbled a voice. Aaron's gloved hand appeared from underneath the rack of seats opposite where he had been strapped in. He didn't sound all that enthusiastic about still being here.



    Three rounds on the Chunder Bus didn't prepare him for the crash. The bus lived in a dull grey cube sat in a clearing in Germany. Near the ocean, where the country once known as the Netherlands had been. Six passenger cabins from a model of dropship they had retired decades ago were suspended in the chamber. They could roll around any axis and slam them down towards the ground at any angle to simulate a boarding action going awry.

    This was worse. His eyes felt as if they had been poked back into his skull. Every joint cried out in a discordant chorus, each vying for his attention. The pain made him angry, but there was nowhere to direct it.

    Despite the pain his training kicked in. His knees gave protest but he found somewhere to anchor his legs so he could tug at the release on his straps. Others were moving, but no one was talking yet.

    The straps gave with a ping. His foot slipped. Aaron went tumbling down into the opposite row of chairs.



    His breathing came in sharp pants. Had to move. Had to follow orders. With a groan he pulled himself back to his feet. There was a tang of copper as he bit down hard enough to puncture his lip.

    "No radio."
     
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  9. Lewis Masters

    Character

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    HSAR
    Masters nodded.

    "It's dead. Not even picking up carrier. Something's up with the tech."

    He tapped at a compartment with stealth-serrated edges, then frowned and ripped it open with his right hand to expose a number of neatly-routed cables and hydraulic lines.

    "Basics first. We need to secure the crash site or find a defensible position. Price, see if you can get through to the cockpit. Find out what happened to the pilot. Wierzbowski, with me. We'll get this ramp open and set up a perimeter."
     
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  10. Sophie Iverson

    Sophie Iverson Tell me your secrets
    Character

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    159
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    HSAR
    Character Biography:
    Bio
    Sophie woke up groaning. Her HUD reported severe armour damage from multiple blunt-force impacts. One, two ribs broken. Dislocated shoulder, possible ankle damage. Specialist Gruneham had clearly saved her life. Her armour had applied biofoam while she was out, and its distinctive cool feeling was a reassuring presence - as was the faint hiss of a still-operational rebreather unit.

    She looked around, catching motion at long range on the upper crown structure right where they had come through. Zooming in using her long lens, she caught a few frames of something moving unbelievably quickly towards her, braced upside down on the metal. Her HUD highlighted it red, machine-learning algorithms deciding it was a threat. At a speed that would have put her instructors to shame, Sophie drew her sidearm and took it into a Centre Axis Relock ready, set her finger on the trigger - and then it exploded. Two further detonations followed in quick succession, smoke immediately obscuring the target. Shrapnel came off her armour plate in dozens of tiny impacts.

    "Stay down! Stay down!"

    Gruneham bounded past her with his weapon up, putting another two rounds downrange from his grenade launcher. He stopped after a moment, did a search-and-assess, then looked at her with some concern.

    "Lost it. You okay?"

    "I'll live, Marine. Help me up?"

    He offered a hand and hauled her to her feet without the slightest hint of effort, remaining on security while she holstered her sidearm and checked her main weapon for damage: dents and scratches, nothing critical. She slapped the magazine to check it was seated properly, pulled the charging handle and clapped him on the shoulder. Good to go.

    "Where's the rest of the squad?" She spoke on the move, without bothering to make eye contact, staying tight behind the protective bulk of the Force Recon soldier to cover his right side.

    "They came down bearing zero-four-zero range three hundred. No transmissions."

    "We'll recon on foot, then. Let's go. Titan, Avatar in the blind. One and Three moving to secure crash site Avatar."
     
    #30 Sophie Iverson, Jul 1, 2018
    Last edited: Jul 1, 2018
    Krzysztof Wierzbowski likes this.
  11. Krzysztof Wierzbowski

    Character

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    So it wasn't just the crash or him walloping his helmet off the side. The others were having problem with their kit too. An unwelcome revelation but at least it provided some distraction from the aching pain. At least his balance had returned, he didn't want to be lurching about drunkenly or struggling to walk in a straight line.

    "Affirmative. I'll check the ramp" he intoned, slinging his rifle and moving to the rear access ramp. The crash had mangled it something awful but there was enough of a gap for someone to crawl out. Krzy moved closer to it to test with his hands, giving it an experimental shove. The ramp moved a fraction of an inch or else it was just his imagination. Gritting his teeth, he looked for something that could give him a bit more leverage in wedging it open further.
     
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  12. Lewis Masters

    Character

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    HSAR
    Specialist Masters looked at the multi-coloured array of wires, lines and pipes. After a moment's consideration, he took a big handful of them and ripped them fully out of the compartment. Amidst the spray of pressurised hydraulics and vaporising coolant, he saw the ramp give a few inches under Wierzbowski's weight - so at least one of them was the ramp line. He found a spare rifle in an overhead locker and tossed it to the Marine to use as a prybar, then sought a good position on the other side of the ramp.

    "Go on your count."
     
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  13. Krzysztof Wierzbowski

    Character

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    Krzysztof grabbed the leftover rifle and hefted it for leverage. He waited for Masters to take up a position, "On three. One, two, three!". He gritted his teeth, feeling his muscles burn with the effort but the ramp began to give way, slowly but surely. A screeching whine from the tortured metal but the two marines managed to wedge it further open.

    "Christ" he murmured, panting from the exertion, just enough to break a sweat. They'd gotten it open wide enough to stagger out, a big improvement on wriggling like a worm. He dropped to a crouch, unslinging his rifle. A quick check to ensure everything was ship shape before he rose. "I'll go first" he volunteered, moving slow and steady. His helmet visor automatically adjusted for the conditions as he ventured outside the transport.
     
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  14. Lewis Masters

    Character

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    Masters grunted as a spike of pain ran up and down his arm. Not the white pain of a new injury, but the dull throb of real and heavy damage. Light flooded in from outside - a mix of fluorescent white and emergency orange, dim but magnified to bright daylight by low-light amplification.

    The Force Recon warfighter picked up his weapon and with a flicked it into his shoulder with one arm, ignoring his injured side. He could shoot quite well with just his strong hand, especially in armour. He followed Wierzbowski out and swung right to cover the other side.

    "Clear right. Sitrep, Wierzbowski?"
     
    #34 Lewis Masters, Jul 5, 2018
    Last edited: Jul 9, 2018 at 2:04 PM
  15. Aaron Price

    Character

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    36
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    Raziel
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    Bio
    Aaron imagined that if they had been in 1G now then walking would have hurt a lot. Fortunately they weren't. With each step he felt the paid from the crash ebb away to a tolerable ache. He had been well seated when they had gone down. If his head had been in a different place or his straps had been loose and his heart had been full of blood at the moment of impact then it could have been much, much worse.

    He had to remind himself that they were still here for a mission. You didn't send a tactical squad this well armed for a humanitarian mission. The question in his mind was: was it about to become that? Losing power here was far more dangerous than on earth. There were plenty of redundancies, but the chance of key systems failing and leading to deaths just sky rocketed.

    How dangerous was their undefined target?
     
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  16. Jonah Heaton

    Character

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    [​IMG]
    Image Credit: Alien Isolation, Creative Assembly 2014

    Bridgewater opened out directly into a Horizons Flight Systems lobby area. It was grandly built, featuring scale models of their latest engines hanging from the ceiling, and corporate narcissism seemed to have extended to paying for independent power supply for the exhibits. That, or the floor lighting was somehow on a different circuit. Either way, there was still some dim lighting coming from the floor. The strange angle lent itself to unfamiliar shadows, turning the familiar alien.

    The Belter - he hadn't had a chance to ask her name - stayed close to him as they made their way across the lobby to the door towards a main pedestrian walkway. A handful of people were with him, but most of the others had been perfectly content to stay in the train cars. One of the small number who had joined him was a police officer, armed with only a taser, but her steady presence at the back of the group was very welcome.

    The door was closed and unpowered, but Jonah knew his way around airlocks. The ones in core domes tended to be older designs from decades ago, when power failed regularly. He looked to the right, opened a panel he found there and armed a crank handle. They silently took turns cranking the door, which inched open smoothly if slowly, then put the crank back.

    The police officer introduced herself as Hannah. The Star Helix badge on her uniform looked dulled by time.

    "Jonah."

    "Pleased to meet you, Jonah. Now, I don't mean to scare those with us, but I think you and I should take a look a bit further ahead - make sure everything is okay."

    He nodded, and they left. Hannah gave him the baton from her belt, which was reassuringly solid in his palm, but he couldn't help but feel ridiculous as they crept across towards the Bridgewater Halls. This was one of the nicer parts of the station, spacious and lined with expensive boutiques, though there was an eerie and total absence of people. Jonah paused and felt Hannah collide gently with him.

    "Something wrong, Jonah?"

    "I think so. Where is everyone?"

    She shrugged.

    "I don't know. Are we going to find out by standing here?"

    They both paused and looked off into the distance where, muffled and quiet but distinct all the same, came the unmistakable sound of gunfire.

    Their eyes met with perfect understanding, just before they turned together and bolted back towards Bridgewater Highrail Station.
     
  17. Emma de Vries

    Character

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    6
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    HSAR
    de Vries crossed the walkway at a dead sprint, slamming into a shopfront on the other side with enough momentum to leave a dent in the composite frame. Not far northeast of her position were two armoured vehicles - late-model Trebuchet types with the distinctive vertical cut in their turrets to allow elevation and depression through a full ninety degrees. They were still and dead, without power or crew.

    Indeed, there were signs of combat all around her, but it hadn't been a particularly committed action. There were four dead visible, with scattered remains making perhaps another two - but they were all over the place.

    No time to prepare? Or overrun while retreating?

    The Dutch marine ran a servomotor-powered hand over a wide scatter of bullet holes in the shutters she was braced against. It looked like two or three, maybe even more, service rifles had gone off at once. Not single shots, which would have had much tighter groupings. Massed full-auto fire. Here and there were the larger marks of the Trebuchet coaxial guns, which had been fired in shorter bursts. Gyroscopic stabilisation had turned those fire patterns into neatly horizontal traversing patterns.

    Further up towards the mass transit station, she saw the Trebuchets had fired their main guns... twice, at least. Large impact zones indicated anti-personnel warheads. It all added up. The package had come through here, trashed the cordon and the armoured vehicles, and continued on.

    She checked her weapon once again, tapped her radio, and continued on herself towards the crash site of her squad. Not much sense trying to take this thing on herself.

    "Titan, Molok Three in the blind. Anyone receiving, I've got..."

    She was interrupted by several bursts of what was clearly 25mm fire from what her suit believed to be the northwest. Too far from Crash Site Molok to be Masters. It had to be Gruneham - he had the only other high-calibre service weapon.

    "... I've got signs of a defensive action at my position 13-39-26 and positive audio contact on blue gunfire to the northwest. Continuing east towards Crash Site Molok, out."
     
    #37 Emma de Vries, Jul 7, 2018
    Last edited: Jul 7, 2018
  18. Jim Gruneham

    Character

    Messages:
    2
    Gruneham and Iverson emerged from a nerve-wrackingly service tunnel into a small shopping and leisure area on the lower floors of a block of flats. They adjusted their roles, Iverson elevating to control their upper sectors while he stayed low. They moved quickly through a handful of open areas with encircling walkways, with commercial outlets on two sides, and were continuing onwards when one set of shutters rattled and started to rise.

    Gruneham snapped to target and blinked Iverson a permission-to-fire, putting the pair of them down in cover. After a moment's hesitation she denied him and requested a threat assessment - which was rendered somewhat unnecessary by the emergence of a woman in an elegant gown. She was accompanied by a trio of Star Helix private security contractors in tactical gear, who were carrying compact personal weapons.

    While the other two Star Helix officers took security, the third came forward. A heavily-muscled man, with the build a touch heavier it should have been for a frontline combatant.

    "It's good to see you, Lieutenant. We were starting to wonder whether our equipment was sending at all. Which ship is picking us up?"

    He trailed off as he realised that Gruneham still had his weapon trained on him. Lieutenant Iverson stood up behind him, tucking her weapon into a patrol ready, and motioned behind the quartet.

    "Return to your position and await official word, Captain... Harrison. We aren't who you think we are."

    "We can't wait. Undersecretary Lai is due to make an appearance at a conference on Titan -"

    Jim derived a small and entirely unprofessional amount of satisfaction from the way Lieutenant Iverson cut him off with a single hand motion.

    "Navy assets are actively engaged in a combat situation. Evacuation is an objective that is not currently being pursued. Return to your positions or I will have you all interned for obstruction of Naval Intelligence operations."

    Captain Harrison's eyes went wide when he looked to their shoulders and saw not the Marine emblem but the pyramid-eye of the Office of Naval Intelligence. He blanched, motioned quickly at his subordinates, and they disappeared nearly as quickly as they had come - though not without casting a few longing looks at the heavily-armed pair.

    As they rose to continue their progress, Gruneham chose his moment and blipped a message.

    "Lieutenant Iverson."

    "Specialist Gruneham?"

    "What's the projected survival rate for this mission?"

    "That is classified information, Specialist."

    "Come on, sir. You have authority to release classified briefings if it's mission-relevant. Indulge me."

    She was silent for a long time, then sighed.

    "The mission is ALL ASSETS EXPENDABLE. The final estimate was 80% casualties or higher."

    He whistled.

    "Ignorance is bliss, isn't it?"

    "Indeed, Specialist. Are you glad you asked?"

    "Kinda regret it, actually."

    "Good man. Count it a lesson learned."
     
  19. Jonah Heaton

    Character

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    HSAR
    Jonah had carefully kept to the medically-recommended exercise regimen, took his bone and muscle supplements regularly, and the doctors were satisfied he was in fine health. But that was no comfort as they fled for their lives and Hannah pulled away from him at speed. She was through the station airlock doors and cranking it hard well before he arrived. He caught his breath, then took over after her in complete silence until there were a few centimetres of aluminium-nickel alloy between them and the gunfire.

    "What's going on out there?"

    "Your guess is as good as mine, Jonah, but we need to make sure that it stays out there."

    Jonah nodded, swallowing, and nodded at their little group. In their absence a few of them had spread out some electronics, clearly trying to get some signal. That was good, he guessed. They weren't huddling yet. In his experience, that was the first bad sign.

    "Can you talk to them? Reassure them. I need to pray."

    She threw him an incredulous look he'd seen before.

    "At a time like this?"

    He smiled gently.

    "Perhaps now's the best time, Hannah."

    She looked at him for a few seconds longer, then her expression softened a little.

    "All right, Jonah. All right. Fair enough. Throw one in for me too, okay?"

    "I'd love to. If you get a chance, we need to come up with a plan to find a safe place to hide."

    "I'll see what I can come up with."
     
    #39 Jonah Heaton, Jul 10, 2018 at 11:05 PM
    Last edited: Jul 10, 2018 at 11:27 PM
  20. Aaron Price

    Character

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    36
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    Raziel
    Character Biography:
    Bio
    @Tobias Krehl @Krzysztof Wierzbowski @Lewis Masters

    Having left the remaining pilot behind, Aaron made his way out of the shuttle. One pilot was gone. Blood smeared across his lips and chin and eyes wide open. The other was seeing if he could rig another radio from spare wires.

    Aaron dropped to one knee and took in to view. Even putting weight on his knee in that way sent shocks of pain up the leg. He moved to one of the apartment windows and looked out. Nothing could be seen moving. Most of the citizens must have been moved out of the area. Craning his neck back he could see the endless pattern of panels in the dome far overhead. Aaron decided that from down here it looked decidedly fragile. Even knowing that it wasn't the case he didn't want to be here without a suit. Yet people lived their lives like this. All across the belt with just a few door seals between their bodies and hard vacuum. He suppressed a shudder.

    "Looks clear."

    It also looked as if the dropship could have brought the entire building down on top of them if it had carried just a little more momentum into the collision. His suit's systems were functioning, but still no comms. Whilst other components could be shielded a radio just had to turn EM signals into power and to shield it against everything meant stopping a radio from doing what it was designed to do.

    Aaron lowered his rifle and started to pick a path away from the crash site. His head was still spinning and the last thing he wanted to do was put a trio of recoiless rounds into a civilians.
     
    #40 Aaron Price, Jul 11, 2018 at 6:29 PM
    Last edited: Jul 13, 2018 at 8:47 PM
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