Rhona W

GEARS - Mecha Sci-fi with Anthro characters. RP in a detailed, story-driven world.

New GM post is up, chock-full of delicious reponses for you to digest and reply to!

It's delicious and nutritious!

Also, if Shadowman doesn't post by Friday evening, I'll remove his character from the RP.

GEARS - Mecha Sci-fi with Anthro characters. RP in a detailed, story-driven world.

Adrian didn't deign to reply to the Capybara's question, so Silverwind quickly leapt in and carried on talking, his fake accent more than passable.
"Sorry, he has trouble understanding the language sometime. We want to head on into Landren, try and meet up with friends. Same destination as them; was a small group, about five or six, yes?"
The Capybara's eyes narrowed and he tapped one foot before nodding and beginning to sort through the files, bending over the desk. He started to speak as he turned his back to them.
"So, you're following up your friends. It's good that you came here to get your ID's-"
He turned around with a snub-nosed automatic pistol in one hand.
"-Considering they were here earlier today, and didn't mention a thing about you either time. I'm sure they'll be interested in who you are and why you're following them, though. Client confidentiality is one of my major concerns," he said with a frown, and a slight grin. He kept his eyes on them as he stepped sideways to a wall-mounted data-slate and then pressed the surface, holograms springing to life from it as he began to call.
"Bugger," muttered Silverwind, looking sideways to Adrian.

***

In the marketplace, the northener was obviously engaged in quite the heated discussion with the market-stall owner. Numbers and values flew back-and-forth between the stall owner and the burly vulpine - who, this close up, could be seen to have gold-flecked eyes, and a rugged, hardened appearance. His clothing was also decidedly practical, outdoors-ey and not unlike unmarked military clothing.
The stall owner eventually gave a final amount and folded his arms, a large rhino behind him standing up as the Llama who ran the stall folded his arms. With an irritable growl and a narrowing of his eyes, the Vulpine withdrew an older-standard Northern PADD from his belt and tapped icons that shimmered to life, depositing currency to the stall-owner who immediately became a beaming picture of light, laughter and good humour to the still-irritated vulpine. The rhino immediately began shifting GEAR parts onto a trolley; actuators, servo-motors, and a small variety of electronics.

For Esailia's part, it didn't take long before a small gaggle of street-kids of various species, all full of energy and daring, cocky expressions and smiles began to circle around her, either calling for hand-outs, or running up to her and asking child-like questions. Others offered to sell her things or guide her places - and to anyone with experience of such things it was all an obvious smoke-screen for picking her pocket and getting her coins. Especially if the slightly more legit approach didn't work first.

***

In the bar, the bear grunted an acknowledgement to Mike/Mitch, tapping the order through on a PADD mounted to the bar on the serving side, and giving Mike the price. He set the beers, cool and sparkling and with just the right amount of head, down on the counter top in two gleaming glasses, before looking to the Mink, who shrugged. He did the same and added her tab - minimal as it was - to their bill, before going back to his duties.

She turned to the pair, having got her attention, as Aiden spoke up.

"You've got LDF coming to Martenstown, they'll arrive in approx. two hours and they're ready to sweep. Don't ask who we are, just know we're here on the behalf of a partner interested in your "cargo's" security. Look, we don't have time for doubts and suspicions, by the time you contact boss and play stupid with us, you'll have a couple o'cruisers rake the city for 'em. I can give you the cruiser locations, that and the escape vehicles. We keep playing dumb for now, eat, drink, then we roll. We get out, you follow us, I'll mark everything on your PADD and we leave the city stat."

Her pretty eyes widened as Aiden spoke up, and her face was a mask of confusion and bewilderment for a moment, before the pair moved away.
It wasn't until a few moments later - during which she was again, though more furtively this time and with many pauses, playing with her PADD again - that she approached the pair, her PADD in it's holster on her belt and her expression firm as she leaned in close to them, her palms flat on the table.
"I know you're bluffing," she said as she leant in close to the table, speaking in a whisper loud enough to reach their ears, but not so much that the other patrons would hear. "But I don't know who you are, exactly, or what you want with me or Martenstown. I'm interested though. Meet me outside, the park two blocks down the street in twenty minutes. And if you think it's a trap... well I'm on my own, and there are two of you. And it's a public place across the street from the Police station".
She leant back without waiting for an answer, and moved swiftly out of the bar without a look back, leaving the pair to mull over their responses.

Thunderbolt Black (Fighter Pilot Mercenaries)

Urukhai, you posted recently so you're fine.

Thunderbolt Black (Fighter Pilot Mercenaries)

You posted last time, so you're fine. Also, you actually said you might not be able to make the deadline.

GEARS - Mecha Sci-fi with Anthro characters. RP in a detailed, story-driven world.

24 hours until the next GM post for anyone who hasn't posted.

If Shadowman doesn't post, then I'll take him off the active list - he hasn't posted in the OOC or the IC for those 10 days, so it's in line with my rules.

Thunderbolt Black (Fighter Pilot Mercenaries)

Just to note out to everyone, you have 24 hours to make your next IC post, then I'll be putting up the next GM post to move things on.

One of you hasn't posted for the last two rounds. I'll be thinning the herd a little if no post goes up.

GEARS - Mecha Sci-fi with Anthro characters. RP in a detailed, story-driven world.

Es, all the characters are still linked from the first intro POST (goddamn typos) on page 1 of the OOC if you ever need to find them again. Same with all of the setting info. I put that together long before the characters tab was a thing.

Task Force Lima (COMPLETED)

As Jan and Zhenya headed directly for the lifts, Wendy bought up the same thing that niggled at Scott's mind: There could be other Tangoes on this floor, and elsewhere in the building.

"Jan, I'm going to be doing a little recon by myself..."

His eyes snapped to her, and then to Jan. "I'll back you up," he said in a clipped tone, and with a nod. As she moved off silently, or as damn near as, the englishman followed suit. She took out two tangoes and he nodded in affirmation, moving past her into an adjoining room. Two more of the hostiles lurked there, eyes on the street through the big plate glass windows of what seemed to be some kind of break-room. Both had their backs to him. Immediately, he pulled the P-90 to his shoulder, the suppressor already attached. One of the men began to turn as he pulled the trigger. The first 5.7mm round hit the man on the right high in the head, spraying a cloud of gore into the air and across his compatriots' face, before the second round, hitting as he was beginning to fall, caught him through the ear and exited in a messy hole through the front of his face. The second man opened his mouth to shout and began to raise his weapon, eyes wide in alarm; but Scott had already anticipated the action, and fired a second pair of rounds. They caught high in the hostiles' torso, slamming into his chest and sending him to the ground in a clutter of tangled limbs. Moving swiftly, he stepped over to the downed man. His eyes were already clouding over as blood bubbled from his lips. Grimacing, Scott drew his knife and slit the mans' throat; even a shit like this didn't deserve to suffer for long.
He quietly called in two more down as he made his way to the lift. He waited for Wendy to climb up, her having got there ahead, before he hauled himself up through the hatch, and then began his own climb.
It was arduous and straining; even with the workouts he took to keep in shape and the relentless practice they all endured, it was an unpleasant environment and the lift cable itself was greasy, coarse and abrasive. Nonetheless, with much swearing under his breath and a red face, he made it to the top a few moments behind the others, swiftly climbing out of the shaft and taking a kneeling position as he regained his breath and took a quick sip of water from his camelback. As he sat still and waited, his eyes were hard and alert, ears pricked and listening for any unusual sound. He kept his expression hard, despite the whirl of adrenaline and emotions inside himself. He nodded to the others as they too stood ready. Wendy moved to set up her huge rifle, and once she'd called in she was set up, Scott looked to Jan.
"I think we're ready, sir," he said quietly. "Everyone's present and accounted for. Better tie off".
He moved to the edge of the roof, keeping low to avoid silhouetting himself and began looking to a good point to tie his rapelling rope, waiting for the order from Jan. Timing would be crucial as they dropped in. If there was too much of a delay, then one of the others might not have cover at the right moment. Letting the P-90 dangle for a moment, he unreeled his nylon rope and began to tie off, threading the other end through the harness around his waist and chest.

Thunderbolt Black (Fighter Pilot Mercenaries)

GM post is up! Make ready with your replies.
And - shock - an enemy mercenary company appears!

Thunderbolt Black (Fighter Pilot Mercenaries)

The small flotilla of riverine craft were a mess after the round of attacks by the Black Knights flight dedicated to ground-attacks. With Kei's assault rounding off the run on the small force of repurposed civilian boats, the reinforcements were left treading water, floundering or drowning - or floating in charred, dead lumps with the flow towards the ocean. The attack on the ground had, for the moment, been broken. A breathless message from Major Constantine confirmed as much; the Gendarmerie and Militia forces had been able to take back positions to the edge of town, forcing the surviving rebels to fall back to earlier positions, and giving the defenders a line to hold, until the Thunderbolt Black ground reinforcements arrived with armour and heavy weapons.
The majority of his ordnance expended, Scott turned his attention back to the skies, bringing his flight back into formation - and was immediately alerted by St Helen to the ongoing duel between the air-to-air flight, and their newly arrived opponents.

***

The quick reactions of Marciano and Dmitry kept them alive and unhurt. The inbound AAM's were fired from long-range, and with a poor initial lock from the front angle. As the ADV and the SU-35 broke sharply and blasted out countermeasures, the brightly burning flares were enough to distract the inbound missiles - or at least, for long enough that they had trouble re-acquiring their targets, and self-destructed instead.
From the direction of the missiles, a pair of aircraft blasted past, performing their own superbly executed break, splitting wide and curving in the morning skies, faint trails of vapour gleaming from their wingtips as the two sleek, angular tactical aircraft turned to engage.
The pair were a mis-matched duo; an SU-37 Terminator and a Dassault Rafale. Both were coal-black, with the Rafale having electric blue accents on the wingtips, canards and rudder, and the Terminator having deep orange in the same places. Both also sported a horned skull insignia in various places, and the numbers '2' and '5' in gothic script. Each were laden down with ordnance, both aerial and ground-attack, and at the sight of the Black Knights, turned to engage their aircraft. The Rafale began to pursue the Tornado, positioning itself between Marciano and Stalin, while the Terminator harassed its' sukhoi stablemate, driving hard towards Charnel with the powerful radar in the SU-37's large nose hunting down the Ukranians' aircraft as it banked to 270 degrees at the apex of its' climb, hammering down hard toward his plane.

Scott observed the situation from his position. St. Helen had fed the image from the powerful and huge AESA radar in the ASF-14's nose to his console and he quickly assesed the situation. His ordnance for ground attack was virtually depleted. Both Kei and Rodrieguez had more rounds to expend, however, and the airstrip was visible. The pair of bandits hadn't dallied with the ground-attack flight as of yet, and Austin looked to be in the clear too: perfect opportunity for a two-on-two.
"Short Round, Spirit. Go turn that Airstrip back into a jungle clearing. Break. Viking, this is Heartbreak; go give Charnel a hand with his new fan, I've got Stalin's tail, over"
He pushed more power into the ASF-14's engines, the wings sweeping back that little more as he climbed and banked, angling to slot in on the SU-37's tail as it dove for Stalins' jet. "Razorblade, lock that fucker up for me!" he grunted over the intercom, keeping his eyes fixed on the gleaming shimmer of the Terminator, a good half-mile distant above the sea of green below.

The skies over the airstrip were clear; the airstrip itself was nothing more than a logging camp roughly repurposed into a temporary strip. Sheds for construction equipment, now left out in the open, shielded the few light aircraft and helicopters in position, and sandbagged heavy machine-guns or truck-bed mounted guns were the only air defences along with handfuls of shoulder-fired SAMs dotted here and there.
Traces, aimed manually and fired too early or on reflex, curved wildly up into the skies along with small-arms fire, and it was easy to see people running in terror as the sounds of the oncoming jets was heard. The last Dragonfly from the earlier attack was still at the end of the runway, waiting for whatever the rebels had planned for it.