CaptainBritton

The Fumes of War- A 20th Century 'Punk' Nation RP

Interested.

HMS Plymouth - A Naval RP

His Majesty's Royal Marines, reporting.

Fallout: Chaos (Retired)

_{Fort Heath's outer wall}

CPR - Day One

---

The bugle cut through the dawn like a knife of brass. The sun was not yet even peaked above the hills, and each watch read somewhere around 6:00 AM. The bugle continued to blast, playing a crisp 'Reveille' which resonated throughout the Fort with unparalleled power. The echo rang in Church's ears as he sat by dim candlelight. His own watch read 5:58, and he'd hoped dearly for it to somehow be wrong.

He adjusted in the lopsided hand-carved wooden chair, leaning over a piece of yellowed paper lined with boxes and smudged ink that barely could pass for words. He gripped the pencil in his hand and hastily checked a few boxes before extending his legs, the poorly made chair groaning as Church rose to his feet. He folded the paper and grabbed his reading glasses from the table, ambling to the entrance to his hut. He slid his feet into a pair of perhaps too well broken in black boots. Grasping at the faded greenish blue wool and cotton frock coat, he pulled it around his figure, tucking the paper and reading glasses within, before fitting it further and buttoning it. He took a quick bite of some stale hardtack as he fitted a sheathed foot saber and loaded his Smith & Wesson Model 10, opening the almost vertical stairs and ascending the sunken step boards.

He was met with fair enough weather, at least for the Commonwealth, a slight overcast with the orange of the rising sun burning through the clouds with immense power. He glanced around, adjusting the collar of his frock coat, pulling a green forage cap from within and fitting it on his head. His eyes fixated to the lighthouse, as they always had, but he found it still in the state of rubble it had been when it had been brought down two weeks ago. Old chunks of clay and brick were contained mostly to the area immediately around the lighthouse, but it seemed that otherwise, none had bothered to pick up the rest of the debris.

He turned, ambling to the muster square in the center of all the half-buried huts, where the bugler, a young Corporal, stood, bringing his hand to a crisp salute as Colonel Church appeared. Responding with a half-hearted acknowledgement, hardly a salute, the Colonel grunted something that could've been speech, but the Corporal seemed to know exactly what it meant. The young soldier pressed the bugle to his lips, blasting 'Assembly' and returning to a rigid position of attention.

Little by little, men and women in faded uniforms of blue and green, so drab and matted they looked almost purple trickled out of their communal huts, rifles, shotguns, and even some proper automatic weapons in tow. A ragged bunch, they were, all blocked off into four groups of about thirty, with their commanders and such stood in the front of them. As the arrivals ceased, the Corporal, in his sharp voice, announced, "Regiment, to attention!"

The soldiers abided, standing rigid and shouldering their firearms, before their commanders, which stood before them, swiveled to face Colonel Church, each saluting. Church returned the salutes, before picking the paper and his glasses from his pocket. "Well, no point in getting around it. We all know what we're here for." He spoke calmly, his voice carrying as unfolded the paper, fitting on his glasses. He read off, "Today's garrison duty, Companies B and D, single platoon to each guardhouse." He continued, a bit of coughing and sniffling from the men as they waited. "Pickets have come back that the raiders have abandoned the siege. Company A will be performing scavenging duty for today. That puts Company C on R&R for today."

He paused for a long moment, speaking even quieter than before. "Dismissed." The companies fell out, attending to their duties as the Colonel waved off his staff, which crowded around him like bees to a hive. As he ambled towards the headquarters cabin, he reached in his pocket, ignoring protests of his younger adjutants as he lit a clay pipe.

Fallout: Chaos (Retired)

Church's Partisan Regiment

---

History: The story of the few now known as 'Church's Regiment' began in 2282. One Captain John Thomas Church had been commander of a company of light foot in the Commonwealth Minutemen for seven years. Falling under the command of Colonel Hollis and his regiment, Church had been sent on incessant 'relief missions' to settlements, often resulting in little more than poking at shadows in the dark. Fed up by a seemingly feckless commanding officer in Colonel Hollis, a federalist colleague by the name of Captain Jones, and the ignorant General Joseph Becker, Church confided his grievances in his own staff. Before the proper case could be made before the General, Becker was killed in a raid on the headquarters camp.

Now left with a Colonel whom he despised for their moderate views and recklessness, Church instead made an ultimatum. Either Colonel Hollis would pass command to another officer, or Church's company, and any other sympathetic souls, would mutiny. Hollis, not one to be pushed over, refused, and in the winter of 2284, Church, along with 126 minutemen, left Hollis's camp. They would soon relocate further east, to the coast, coming to inhabit the area around Kingsport Lighthouse, naming the new permanent encampment Fort Heath, in reference to a fort part of the Boston Harbor Defenses, which had existed mere miles from the lighthouse, but had been utterly flattened and turned indefensible during the Great War.

Church built a true fortress at the site. Layered wooden palisades bound by steel trusses, weather-proof huts dug into the ground, a seawater desalination system, and an observation post built in the barren lighthouse were all features of the Fort. Small amounts of settlers were brought into the Fort during this time, and most merchants were allowed to market their wares to the citizens and soldiers within. For three years, Fort Heath prospered.

In 2287, the aptly named 'Days of Chaos' began. Weeks, even months of chaotic shifts in power followed. The Quincy Massacre all but wiped out the Minutemen, with even those who managed to escape with their lives being slaughtered in the streets of Concord. Gunners and raiders doubled down their raids. The Fort was put under increasing pressure. Breaches in the first layer of palisades became more and more common, and the Fort lived day to day between sieges, rationing all consumables, and seldom being able to send out scavenging parties.

Though Church's Regiment and the residents of Fort Heath remained relatively neutral on the larger scale, they were bled slowly by the constant attacks. Even these disorganized assailants proved a handful. In early 2287, the Kingsport Lighthouse was reduced to rubble by repeated structural damage. Now, Fort Heath lay battered, but not yet broken, the weakened soldiers and citizens within not yet dead, and their spirit not yet extinguished.

Notable People: WIP

Colonel John T. Church

WIP

Fallout: Chaos (Retired)

@CaptainBritton

I like. You plan on adding anything else?

@NecroKnight

Just a short description for the Colonel and maybe some of his staff.

Fallout: Chaos (Retired)

Church's Partisan Regiment

---

History: The story of the few now known as 'Church's Regiment' began in 2282. One Captain John Thomas Church had been commander of a company of light foot in the Commonwealth Minutemen for seven years. Falling under the command of Colonel Hollis and his regiment, Church had been sent on incessant 'relief missions' to settlements, often resulting in little more than poking at shadows in the dark. Fed up by a seemingly feckless commanding officer in Colonel Hollis, a federalist colleague by the name of Captain Jones, and the ignorant General Joseph Becker, Church confided his grievances in his own staff. Before the proper case could be made before the General, Becker was killed in a raid on the headquarters camp.

Now left with a Colonel whom he despised for their moderate views and recklessness, Church instead made an ultimatum. Either Colonel Hollis would pass command to another officer, or Church's company, and any other sympathetic souls, would mutiny. Hollis, not one to be pushed over, refused, and in the winter of 2284, Church, along with 126 minutemen, left Hollis's camp. They would soon relocate further east, to the coast, coming to inhabit the area around Kingsport Lighthouse, naming the new permanent encampment Fort Heath, in reference to a fort part of the Boston Harbor Defenses, which had existed mere miles from the lighthouse, but had been utterly flattened and turned indefensible during the Great War.

Church built a true fortress at the site. Layered wooden palisades bound by steel trusses, weather-proof huts dug into the ground, a seawater desalination system, and an observation post built in the barren lighthouse were all features of the Fort. Small amounts of settlers were brought into the Fort during this time, and most merchants were allowed to market their wares to the citizens and soldiers within. For three years, Fort Heath prospered.

In 2287, the aptly named 'Days of Chaos' began. Weeks, even months of chaotic shifts in power followed. The Quincy Massacre all but wiped out the Minutemen, with even those who managed to escape with their lives being slaughtered in the streets of Concord. Gunners and raiders doubled down their raids. The Fort was put under increasing pressure. Breaches in the first layer of palisades became more and more common, and the Fort lived day to day between sieges, rationing all consumables, and seldom being able to send out scavenging parties.

Though Church's Regiment and the residents of Fort Heath remained relatively neutral on the larger scale, they were bled slowly by the constant attacks. Even these disorganized assailants proved a handful. In early 2287, the Kingsport Lighthouse was reduced to rubble by repeated structural damage. Now, Fort Heath lay battered, but not yet broken, the weakened soldiers and citizens within not yet dead, and their spirit not yet extinguished.

Notable People: WIP

Colonel John T. Church

WIP

Star Wars - Liberators

Near Phase Line Bravo, Grolsk Wilderness Reserve, 5:04 AM

---

The fire died down soon after, the Imperials seeming to draw back their fire altogether as what was left of the company cowered and waited behind felled trees, disabled hover sleds, and other debris. Stojan took a deep breath, flooding the hot air in his lungs and throat with cold air. He tucked his DL-44 back into its holster, adjusting his position as the sound of repulsorlift engines grew louder, until the sound seemed to come from everywhere, and the white vehicle, no larger than a cargo truck, pulled forth, the E-Web atop it swiveling wildly as the gunner searched for targets.

The entire company was abuzz. The wounded were packed on by those brave enough to stay, and the rest of the disorganized mass began to pile aboard, taking seats or simply taking place on the metal floors between the cots of wounded. Stojan made to be the last on, standing at the end of the cabin as the door closed, shrouding them all in darkness, leaving only the sound of moaning wounded and quiet chatter to flood the ears of all.

It was not a long ride, supposedly only half a kilometer, but it seemed so much longer as the cabin illuminated idly with what seemed like a million stars bursting and falling to the ground. But it was simply a bitter reminder that the battle had truly begun. The fleets were engaged, and the main Imperial force was gathering just beyond the woods, with enough men to simply trample the partisans. Stojan mulled at the thoughts as he looked through the port which the E-Web gunner stood, watching the exchange far above him.

Star Wars - Liberators

Cover - Behind Phase Line Alpha, Grolsk Wilderness Reserve, 4:51 AM

---

Shots continued to fly to and fro, the light smoke with the pungent smell of the gas from the blasters blanketing the firefight, which traded shots carefully now, both sides content to wait behind their trees. Stojan's heart pounded as he let off another shot from his DL-44, one that went wide, a suppressing shot. Adrenaline surged within him, and a runner finally snuck his way forward. Sections 2 and 4 were away, and Section 3 was stuck in place with heavy casualties. He took the time to count his own section as the runner waited for a reply.

His eyes immediately fixed on a spot of crimson and black on the white of the snow, and his RTO lay mere feet away, a hole torn wide in the chest of his snowsuit, a half-cauterized mess of a sucking chest wound directly above his heart. He wished he hadn't seen the man, because Stojan knew the wound was hopelessly fatal, even as he bellowed in Uslamer, "MEDIC!"

He turned to the runner, a grimace on his face as he barked out a message. "Get the third section ready to load the wounded!" The runner nodded, running off with his A280 hanging off his bony frame and baggy snowsuit. Stojan turned back to the dying RTO, being worked on by the medic, ever-apparent that the medic was just trying to make him comfortable. Stojan worked at the straps connecting the comm pack to the RTO's back, wrestling it free. He grasped at the receiver, barking into it. "This is Captain Markovic to callsign 'Cverna', move up to last stated grid coordinates, over."

"Copy." Came the stern, static reply, and the low rumble of repulsor engines emanated from the device, or perhaps from the forest itself, further towards Phase Line Bravo.

Star Wars - Liberators

First Shot - Phase Line Alpha, Grolsk Wilderness Reserve - 4:37 AM

---

As the sound of shots lingered in his ears among the newfound silence, Stojan made his move. He was in his trench, dug into the snow and connected to the First Section's, his headquarters's sections, shelter. Dug shallow but large enough for a crouching partisan to take cover in, it was inconspicuous, and seemingly that aspect had shown. The first phase line had gone off with relative success, an encroaching squad of stormtroopers eliminated by part of the 7th Uslam Liberators, the far off moans of the wounded all to remind of what losses they had taken.

The shots had come from their right, one of the other companies of the 7th. He'd known that it'd only be a matter of time before the Imperials shelled the whole grid square. And he didn't dare wait when the word was passed down the line that Phase Line Alpha was being abandoned. He snuck along his section's trench, clutching a DL-44 in his right hand, and a fusion lantern turned to the lowest output in his left. He came behind his second in command, a good friend, Lieutenant Milosevic, who sat staring idly at a manual clock by moonlight. Stojan spoke quickly but clearly, in a whisper-yell tone. "We're abandoning the phase line. Have the RTO inform the Colonel. And get a runner, I want all sections out of these trenches and to Phase Line Bravo in no more than ten minutes."

And suddenly, fire erupted far off, much further right than the last. Another engagement. Stojan took his leave from the Lieutenant, ducking into the section's shelter and stepping over bedrolls and cots strewn on the permafrost dirt, coming to his own paired with his rucksack. He expertly packed them all, slinging the rucksack with attached bedroll across his shoulder as other personnel around him did the same. As they all exited their shelter and dragged their bulky, snowsuit-clad bodies out of the trench, one of the Privates trailed behind, laying a detonator fuse into a wireless detonator. The mines that laid just under their trenches and on the roof of their shelter were armed.

They moved in columns by section through the pitch dark forest, ever wary of the far-off blaster fire as they trudged along, making idle corrections of direction with their compasses as they moved. The columns were dark, and silent, each section dragging their repulsorlift snow sleds behind them, with only the section leaders having their lanterns deployed, and not for light, only just to guide their sections.

First a pop as they trudged, thought as just a large branch cracking under the weight of trudging feet, but the ensuing flurry of red bolts proved otherwise, sailing over their heads. Repulsorlift sleds were deactivated and used as cover, the trees being cut and lit aflame for moments as falling snow snuffed the blazes. Fire from A280s and DH-17s answered, garbled encrypted speech from advancing stormtroopers putting pressure on the partisans.

Something needed to be done, and Stojan was mulling the thoughts as he was face down in the snow. He turned over, proclaiming in the native Uslam tongue. "Make a tactical withdrawal! I want the Second Section to lead, Fourth follows! First and Third, put out cover fire!" And he himself sprang to his knees, extending his DL-44 with one hand and aligning the sights.

Star Wars - Liberators

_{Recent picture of Captain Stojan Markovic (Right), and his second, Lieutenant Zlatan Milosevic (Left).}

Name: Stojan Markovic
Species: Human
Faction/Unit: Rebel Alliance/412. ‘Viteska’ Company (Independent partisan company currently shadowing the 7th Uslam Liberators Regiment)
Location: Uslam Wilderness near Lorya
Role: Captain of 412. ‘Viteska’ Company of the Uslam Sector Force.

NOTE: 412. 'Viteska' Company is looking for members. Take a gander at the roles and post your character accordingly.

412. 'Viteska' Company

• 412. ‘Viteska’ Company [52 personnel]
  
  • 1. Section
    
    • Captain Stojan Markovic, Commanding [Blaster Pistol]
    • Lieutenant, Executive [Blaster Pistol]
    • Staff Sergeant, Senior Enlistedman [Blaster Rifle]
    • Corporal, Radio Operator [Blaster Rifle]
    • Corporal, Combat Medic [Blaster Pistol]
    • Seven Privates [Rifle].
  • 2. Section
    
    • Sergeant, Commanding [Blaster Rifle]
    • Corporal, Executive [Blaster Rifle]
    • Lance Corporal, Automatic Rifleman [Repeating Blaster]
    • Private, Assistant Automatic Rifleman [Blaster Rifle]
    • Eight Privates [Rifle].
  • 3. Section
    
    • Sergeant, Commanding [Blaster Rifle]
    • Corporal, Executive [Blaster Rifle]
    • Lance Corporal, Automatic Rifleman [Repeating Blaster]
    • Private, Assistant Automatic Rifleman [Blaster Rifle]
    • Eight Privates [Rifle].
  • 4. Section
    
    • Sergeant, Commanding [Blaster Rifle]
    • Corporal, Executive & Assaultman [Blaster Rifle + Launcher]
    • Lance Corporal, Heavy Machinegunner [Blaster Rifle + E-Web]
    • Private, Assistant Heavy Machinegunner [Blaster Rifle]
    • Eight Privates [Rifle].
  • Company Victor (Vehicle) Pool
    
    • A-A5 Speeder Transport ‘Crvena’
    • Corporal, Driver [Blaster Pistol]
    • Private, Gunner [E-Web]
    • Sergeant, Crew Chief [Blaster Rifle]
    • Capacity of 25.