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9 yrs ago
Hot dogs are already cooked. Might as well just sear them to add flavor.
7 likes
9 yrs ago
I love it when I catch up on my posting.
2 likes
9 yrs ago
If you take college seriously, it opens doors. Harvard and Hopkins makes it easier, but you can do well anywhere.
3 likes
9 yrs ago
Prefer to brainstorm on Discord for that reason.
1 like
9 yrs ago
Windows 10 is very much like a German prison camp guard, "Ah, I see you are tryink to escape work fifteen minutes early, Herr Colonel Hogan, here ist an update zat vill stall you!"
4 likes

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Most Recent Posts

Gah, so, seriously I thought I'd be a desk jockey today but it turns out I was working on setting up all the computers in the shop and dealing with the BS that is cable management for a group of assholes who don't throw anything away. I literally found a cable from a phone system we were using over 5 years ago. Gunther, if you want to post I can catch up from there. I really don't want to hold y'all up but I am definitely still in. Just busy. :(


We can hold up if necessary, you aren't the only person we are waiting on. I am not in a rush, I just want to make sure people are still engaged so we can hold up for them.
I'd like a roll call of who is still with us. If people need posting help or info, our Discord is a good resource.
I'm on board with the Terrex. Also, Grathik materials can probably make it lighter, VI-assisted and create more space for a full squad and maybe get crew down to a single person. We can replace the Puma with that. I think being able to bolt different weapons on the turret is important too.
@Gunther So much of the IFV conversation was entirely exploratory with the intent of thinking it through ahead of time. Sauna does have some open areas devoted to agriculture which might be effective for IFV's. However, there are lots of caverns, and these are large and urbanized, with what I presume would be rail systems.

Saina probably does have transport infrastructure, but I don't think the Pilavians are believers in individuals moving around in vehicles, so they might stick with rail and other forms of fixed-public transit because they evolved from animals that relied on a volume breeding strategy to survive. Moving in groups and not being caught out as individuals is part of the psyche. They might even get a little panicky when isolated.

So I'm guessing that the open areas would be A) agricultural areas on the surface and b) potentially underground areas with lots of room cleared out. That'd be a very different kind of MOUT.

Beyond that, it was a straightforward discussion of what sort of IFV might be supporting the Centurion troops directly.

It is also entirely possible that it's more feasible, given the tech and the distances/numbers involved, to dedicate air support assets to them, such as air-drones with 30mm cannons analogous to Cobras or Apaches. (and, overhead, A-10's and AC-130's) The infantry would be entirely air mobile and their dedicated CAS would be drones with no physical crew and lots of loiter time, supplemented by other types of craft to support that effort.

Basically, I think the Grathik are using lots of drone pilots and no human pilots crewing air vehicles except for transports, because they can easily preserve their pool of experienced pilots that way.
The Element of Surprise




Plashi shuttles deposited them onto the surface with navigation data in their PDA's and intelligence warnings of new foes; the war-packs heard rumors of Grathik scientific prowess and some sort of uplift program. They'd fought robotic infantry that were durable and powerful, but not stealthy, not agile if spoofed. The war packs used stealth to overcome the limitations of the system and prevailed. The last upgrades were particularly dangerous but went self-aware and turned on the Grathik; too sentient and the slave AI's, apparently using appropriated code, pursued their own agenda.

The Pilavians fought when forced and cornered, but stealth worked again-- search and avoid patrols were invented by them. Grathik could only do so much to oversee and force the fighting without a revolt and after the damage that the robots did.

They moved forward in alert assurance from the landing site, seeking intelligence, enemies and plunder, the things that ran the Salvesh economy. Drathak's pack was young, fast and eager, long-runners that went lift and bid low in expectation of the best pickings, which they could sell to other packs and the Plashi to pay down their investment loan and upgrade their starting equipment.

Small, agile and aggressive, they hoped to slip past these new soldiers of the Grathik.

Drathak was still cautious in this alien jungle; the Pilavians, if threatened with slaughter, if they thought they were going to be pillaged, were surprisingly inventive booby-trappers, but there was no sign of that.

Drathak had some service under his belt, and used that to argue for pack-investment with the Plashi brokers. In space, the fight was brutal and dangerous, with Grathik technological prowess balancing Plashi wealth. But once they cracked the defenses, the worlds went down fast. The Grathik could not replenish their fleet fast enough and the Plashi had production organized to soak up their losses. It was the opposite of fights on the ground; quantity over quality.

They moved through the alien flora able to sniff the air, provided throat-filters for the purpose. That was how they suddenly found the enemy; metal and something not covered in their scent-briefing. He raised his rifle to sight one of the things, cleverly blended in the environment. His hormones surged and he snarled as he started to fire.

He felt his chest burn and shatter twice; the world around him exploded into weapons fire, and he watched from his grating, bleeding-out vantage, as the new enemy introduced themselves. So many of them that they didn't see, his pack mates whining for medical aid...he wanted to cry the warning, but he was out of breath.

They'd lost their gamble because they thought they owned the element of surprise.

They lost it, but so had the enemy. There were other war-packs nearby.

Sayeret




Big dudes, Danny noted as he watched them through the scope. He'd given a quick visual check on his fireteam to make sure the concealment and cover were good. In Guyana, he'd been a trainer for the Negev, but as one of the few Israelis that jumped over, he was more 'just the facts' and cut out the unnecessary military courtesy and kept it down to an Israeli minimum, which was very first-name and nickname basis. Some of the more straight-laced types, such as the company commander, were not pleased but the South African company command staff knew the score and were the ones in charge and he had superiors in his own chain of command to buffer him from the guy. It was a South-African run PMC, and the flavor remained in space; there were too many special operators in the bunch to go buzz-cut infantry, like a bunch of raw recruits.

The place was hot, but he knew how to cope. They'd acclimated to jungle before getting here and it was a good thing. He wasn't sure if the poodles, his new name for the enemy had trained like hell in a similar environment before arriving. They trained in Guyana, familiarized on Sauna and then, when time came, used Pilavian civilian rail to arrive in their AO, permanently sealing the entrances they emerged from as the engineers prepped the network for invasion. They'd have to get out by other transport after the patrol.

Danny had skills. Sayeret Matkal was a tier one recon unit and Israelis were rare but had a rep similar to the Brit SAS in terms of being innovators in the world of SOF. And Danny's had a decade of service from raw kid age, but minimal spit-shine service. He'd done instruction on special recon and patrolling in Guyana. Everything they were doing right now, and he'd been exacting and attentive to detail because this was the part of the work where mistakes and nerves could get everyone killed. He'd been serious about this. But all of Centurion was. Surprise was always an advantage.

So he passed on his considerable knowledge of cover, concealment and other little things, giving them the extra time to watch, teaching them the virtue of pissing icewater during this phase. He wasn't entirely enamored of some of the chain of command, the salute-needy types and because the culture was secrecy in Sayeret Matkal, he also kept the war stories close. There was service rivalry bullshit over Centurion, but Marais was intent on discouraging it. Outside of training where instruction was quiet, competent and reassuring, making sure people learned properly, Danny was not pretetntious.

Israeli military culture was a civic thing, and the attitude reflected that they were headstrong, highly competent warriors. Park got it, at least, and Collins was SAS. It helped, since Danny was it for Israelis, though the 'take the serious shit seriously' approach infused itself in the culture. Grow a beard, but your weapon and equipment better be flawless. That was the way. The shared ethos let him concentrate on taking care of his fireteam, his guys, where they had a job to do, and no damns were given about background or parade presentation; what counted was the job. So on duty, the Israeli was trying to pass on the skills. Off, he was approachable and normal but also tended to stick with Riddler and his fireteam, who needed to braid and gel together as an element.

"Butch," he murmured into the mic, which was tuned to pick up whispers, on the fireteam freq, which Riddler could hear, "Hammer shots on these fuckers." He knew the legionnaire, Renard, knew what to do with the Negev and K-ton had the M32, though they were getting a little too close-ranged for it to get used more than once. It meant that they'd be engaging with rifle fire. The Salvesh, in the flesh, looked like they'd take more than one shot to go down, even to the head.

Stopping and seeing have him the appreciation of the Salvesh; hunched over wolf-men of horror movie fodder, but very generally. Four arms, and the photos can give you and idea, but they were no substitute for the visceral impression he had of them through a scope, in a huge alien rainforest. He did not ever want to engage these things up close. They were big, but they were graceful with it, not lumbering. Smooth-gaited, they had a powerful economy of motion to their movements. They also had a snarling dog's terror mated to a sentience that had eyes peeled and nostrils flared alertly. Danny checked the wind direction; they were safe for now.

These had crests, males.

"Riddler, counting crests on all poodle contacts. Upwind for now." Fobbit, as the Americans called them, types might discount smell, but Danny had smelled cumin, coriander and other smellsof the enemy's meal in these situations before, albeit closer up, evading insurgents in Syria on deep recon jobs, gathering site recon and designating targets for IAF strikes. He wasn't about to take a whiff of the Salvesh, the atmosphere wasn't 'hostile' but it was dangerous to humans. Crests, according to their briefings, meant males. They sex-segregated the units.

Contrary to a laid back approach in non combat situations or essential training, Danny was sparse on commo.

He had his poodle sighted, it was all a tense waiting game.
Here we go. Got a preliminary sheet up here. If it looks good, I'll move it over. I'm still working through on a fair bit of it, but I'm pretty well close to finished with it short of anything looking horribly out of place.



I'm down with this character, go ahead and proceed with a post in the character sheet tab.
<Snipped quote by HeySeuss>
LOL...I've been training in Krav Maga for the past four years. It is a lot like that fountain of youth Pieter is sippin' on. Oh yea, I'm older than Pieter btw. :/

EDIT: I remember when I did WWII re-enactments about 17 - 20 years ago, I once had a 60 year old retired infantry officer in my rifle squad. HE was frickin' hard core. The old dudes don't fall out. They are tough and keep up.


Yeah, reminds me of an old Korean War USMC mustang, a battlefield commission, that I met. Two war vet, retired at colonel. Infantry all the way. Hardcore dude. Old Marines stay pretty active, and they seem to preserve well.
Yeah I'm still not sure whether I should put my character in one of the fireteams here or just make an NPC team for him to roll with seeing as we're a platoon. Honestly a squad would have been fine imo.

Rhodesians / South Africa have been an area of interest of mine for a while. Did you know the SADF still had horse mounted cavalry up until 2012. Cool blokes.


Either that or platoon level leadership, such as Collins' commo guy. So he probably got a taste from the Fountain of Youth, as it were.
You guys have room for another by chance?


The way things are, there's lots of room since we switched from squad to platoon. So go ahead.
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