[b]///Project: STEEL COBRAS///

MISSION DESIGNATION: GEARM174-62

STAGE OF DEVELOPMENT – PHASE III; FIRST FIELD TEST - AUSTRALIAN WILDERNESS[/b]

The rebel camp wasn’t much to behold. Tents were set up back to back in rows, with a road wide enough for two tanks side by side to drive down. Everything seemed as if it had been laid out perfectly, more than likely using a laser measuring system to a-line the tents. The rebel commander was reported to have extreme OCD, and it definitely showed. The camp was exactly the same way it had been for the past two months the Australian Army has been scouting it out: The partisans even smoke in the same area at the same time of day. The tents that made up the entirety of the base were all identical: khaki-colored, square things that stood taller than a full grown man with a midget on his shoulders. It was impossible to tell which tents were used for which supplies, and which held which soldiers without a man on the inside. Fortunately for the Australians, they did have such a man. Every three tents, there stood a pole with a light atop it. Not the electrical kind, but the old fire-lit ones from back in the day.

Thanks to this generous amount of light coming from the many poles, Olympus Squad had no trouble seeing their targets while they slowly made their way down one of these avenues between tent rows. Every time they came upon a new tent, Odysseus and Perseus, both of whom were equipped with military grade automatic shotguns, would breach a tent on each side and kill any rebels attempting to hide inside. Of course, most of the partisans were gathered at the end of the avenue, hiding behind a wall of assorted crates and pieces of metal that they had quickly erected when the fighting began. The biggest piece of the wall was also the most heavily armored: An AATV-24, one of many of the pieces of equipment stolen from Fort Baracoda two and a half months earlier. The fifty caliber machine gun on the AATV-24 started to fire on the advancing men of Olympus Squad when a man crawled inside the turret.”Whoa whoa whoa!” Cadmus shouted, firing a burst from his ASM-2.”We’ve got light armor, south-west end of the compound!” Achilles shouted into his headset as the squad dove to the ground. They’d get absolutely chewed apart out in the open here.

”Orpheus! Take ‘im down!” Hercules yelled, fumbling with a rocket launcher on his back. Orpheus calmly brought the scope of his StG 58 up to his eye. Seconds after, Orpheus took in a breath, and a single bullet whizzed through the air, smashing through the gunner’s left eye and popping out the back of his head. The man’s head whipped backwards with the sheer force of the round, with his body following suit moments later. Orpheus visibly shuddered, before running a hand over his chest in the shape of a cross. The rest of the team jumped back up and began to return fire at the rebels. Man after man tried to take the turret gun back, but every time Orpheus shot them in the same exact place; and every kill brought another cross to Orpheus’s chest.

To the side of the advancing squad, Perseus fired off two bursts from his shotgun, mauling a group of rebels lying in wait. Achilles glanced around at his team, pride building up rapidly as they moved down the way, the rebel forced at the other end getting massacred by the elite team’s barrage of bullets. Then, Achilles noticed something.”Where’s Odysseus?!” He shouted, turning around rapidly.”Achilles! stay behind Cadmus!” Jason snarled, snapping off shots with his StG 58.”Hold position! I’m going back to find-” Achilles was interrupted by a massive explosion from behind him. He turned around slowly, fearing what he might see. The AATV-24 the rebels had pillaged was in flames, and the rebels that had clung to it for cover were dead.”What was [i]that[/i]?” Hercules said in disbelief. The sound of a shotgun going off in the distance shook the squad back into reality.”They firin’ at us, mates?” Perseus asked, moving over to the others. A man climbed atop the makeshift rebel fortification, holding a shotgun in the air and yelling like a banshee.”-Odysseus..” Achilles finished, breathing a sigh filled with too many different emotions at the same time.”He did it. He bloody did it.” Cadmus muttered, lowering his shield. Achilles jogged to the front of the group, and the others followed after their leader.

Odysseus hopped off the wall and met his squad half way.”You insubordinate, crazy little ginger!” Achilles yelled, hugging his fellow Steel Cobra. The others moved in closer to give Odysseus their own unique forms of congratulations.”How’d you do it?” Hercules asked, shrugging the heavy weight on his back into a more comfortable position.”That, my friend, is a story for the bar.” Odysseus said with a sly grin.”Alright, we’ve got a compound to clear. Let’s move!” Achilles announced, holding his assault rifle in the air with a single hand.”This is Ground Cobra Command to all combat elements of Steel Cobra Company! The compound is nearly clear, but we have a situation. There’s an old Russian-made tank hold up in the south-eastern corner of the compound. No one where these backwater lobsters got a hold of such things, but the Royalists are putting up quite the fight. We don’t have any armor in the area, and the helicopters are ten minutes out. Any teams with anti-armor capabilities are to attempt to immobilize or destroy the tank. Command, out.” The static filled orders from command had reached Jason, the squad’s radio man’s, ears. Jason then relayed it all to the others, and the squad began to move. No order was given, for none had to be. They knew where to go and what to do.

They were Cobras, after all.

[b] SYDNEY, AUSTRALIA[/b]

*A number of days after the above half of the post*

The sun shone brightly in the beautiful city of Sydney, its blazing light intensified as it glared off the many towering skyscrapers that dotted the city. The streets below these skyscrapers were covered by motor vehicles of all makes and models, with hundreds of thousands of citizens crowding the streets, trying to make their way to wherever they were going. So very many human lives, yet at that moment all attention was not on the city and the people within it. No, Australia’s eyes were on Governor-General Mark Chapman and Prime Minister Mary Crackenthorpe, and the mighty vessel they were preparing to board that sat in the harbor behind them. The Governor-General and the Prime-Minister stood side by side on top of a raised platform, their backs to the ocean as the throngs of people who had gotten off work a few hours ago watched their pictures get taken. The media was all over this: after all, it isn’t often your country prepares to join an empire without a drop of blood shed. After the crowd of reporters had their fill of pictures, the Prime Minister took her seat behind the Governor-General, alongside a number of other ministers, as well as General McBride and Admiral Crickett. 

Chapman took a few steps to the right, until he was standing behind a wooden podium that a stage hand had dragged up the steps for his use. Mark tapped the microphone and coughed, checking if it was working. The static that followed told the Governor-General that it was, and that it was time for him to make a grand speech to the people of the world.

And he had left his cards on his desk.

Again.

The Governor-General coughed yet again, looking out over the crowd. He had no idea what he should say.”People of Australia,” he began his speech, trying to look as if he had memorized it, and wasn’t making it up as he was going along. Mrs. Chapman, standing in the first row of people, facepalmed. She could tell he had forgotten his cards, couldn’t she? She always could tell..”Today shall be forever remembered in the pages of history. Not just the history of Australia, but the history of the world.” This was going to go very, very badly.”As you all know, my family and I will be leaving for the United Kingdom today. We will be travelling on the HMAS Canberra, flagship of the Royal Australian Navy, and Australia’s only battleship..” The Governor-General turned around, spreading his arms out wide, looking over the massive vessel of war. After a moment of taking in the sight, he turns around to face the crowd and the microphone again.”A mighty vessel indeed. How ironic that Australia’s greatest tool of violence and bloodshed be the harbinger of peace with Great Britain.” Chapman received a polite amount of laughter. Alright, they weren’t all asleep. That’s good, right?”I urge all of you members of states that once belonged to the British Empire to return to her fold. Together, we might recreate that great shining light of freedom and strength, that once owned most of the known world. Under the leadership of King William, the British Empire will return to glory. Long live the British Empire, and long live William the VI, for his many strides to restoring this great Empire!” Chapman began to clap, taking a step away from the podium. The crowd followed his lead, a roar of sound echoing through the docks as the Australians present showed their patriotism.”

Good bye, Australia! I leave you in the capable hands of Prime Minister Crackenthorpe!” With that, the Governor-General and his family, as well as Admiral Cricket made their way towards the ramp that led up to the HMAS Canberra. A pair of frigates sat in front of the Canberra, dwarfed by the flagship. Behind the Canberra floated a tanker. Many miles ahead of the small sea-faring convoy, a submarine led the charge, scouting out the path that the fleet would follow to the United Kingdom..

[b] NEAR MADIERA ISLANDS, OFF THE COAST OF WESTERN AFRICA[/b]

-Oberon-class submarine, HMAS Merciless-

Captain Archibald Donawho sat reclined in his chair, staring at the wall in front of him. The captain of the first Australian military vessel to leave Oceanic waters since the Great War, and Archibald was bored out of his mind. He’d settle for playing golf over this. Which was something he never did. Archibald turned in his chair, looking at the various instruments surrounding him on all sides. They were all copies of the instruments used by the crew sitting around on the lower platform before him. It was all the same nonsense he’d seen seen they’d left Australia: a whole lot of nothing interesting. The occasional fishing boat or trade ship popped up on the radar every once and awhile. The graph showing the progress of the mapping of the bottom of the ocean remained as it always did: never being looked at, because oceanography never interested Archibald. No, what interested Archibald was the money and the job where he got to watch ships blow up. Yet, he’d never launched a single torpedo in his entire career. There were never any pirate ships big enough to justify a torpedo attack. So Archibald and his crew were always left on reconnaissance duty.

“We’re going to be passing by the Strait of Gibraltar soon, sir.” Commander Nathan King announced, stepping through a hatch and into the command deck.”Oh?” Archibald sat up a bit straighter hearing this news. This is where all the action at sea is, these days.”Aye, Cap’n. The Spanish Armada is moving down the Suez Canal as we speak. The boys are sayin’ that the Ethiopian’s don’t have a proper navy to respond with, so it won’t be much of a spectacle.” Nathan commented.”Anything’s better than this.” Archibald muttered, resting his head on his hand.

“Well, sir-” Nathan was interrupted by the most anticipated sound that one can hear in a submarine on recon duty: the sound of a telegram typing.

“Who’s it from?!” A sailor shouted through the commotion.”Quiet! Everyone quiet!” Archibald yelled, and the entire deck froze. A man pulled the telegram off the wall, running up the short flight of stairs that led up to the captain’s platform. The sailor handed the captain the telegram, and he began to read it, his eyes moving so much faster than his brain that he had to read it twice to realize what it said.

“Command..Command wants us to document the battle in the Suez.” the captain said, his mouth agape. The captain jumped up from his chair, and began shouting orders. Things were finally getting interesting.