Avatar of Rhona W

Status

Recent Statuses

14 hrs ago
Current The desire to join an RP instead of run one, but the lack of anything being advertised or open that fits my interests
9 likes
2 mos ago
Why are people posting 1x1 'looking for' threads in the main section, when there's a whole section for 1x1 RP's?
4 likes
2 mos ago
It'd be nice to be able to *play* an RP I'm interested in for once, rather than having to *run* one all the time. Of course, doesn't help that I'm picky about what I enjoy.
10 likes
2 mos ago
Hmmmmm... PM inviting me to an RP on Discord by a user who just joined the site and has no posts? Doesn't sound iffy at all, no sir.
3 likes
3 mos ago
The one time I'm really eager for a Gundam - or even a mecha game where I can play using a Gundam - the site doesn't have any open or even going
1 like

Bio

I've been roleplaying in one form or another since the late '90's. I've played as many tabletop games as I have online ones, and the quality of both has varied wildly.
I have an active imagination, and I love immersive, descriptive roleplaying. My genres of choice are sci-fi, and modern-day (with a sci-fi twist). I like RP's that mix reality with fiction, and throw an unusual and exciting twist into an otherwise normal setting - something like Stargate SG-1 would be an example, or Battle: Los Angeles. An almost recognizable world, but with some sci-fi twists.
I'm a fan of military and action-based RP's that do this especially, and they are easily my favourite - though I rarely see any that appeal to me enough - all the military RP's are too 'plain', and anything else modern day is usually fantasy or fandom. Or *shudder* school RPs...

I have a lot of fandoms; Transformers, Macross, MLP: FiM, Fallout, Battletech, Ace Combat, and others to varying degrees. But I don't often join fandom RPs because the ones I'm into don't come up, or I am very picky about my RPs and their plots and feel.

I don't play in free, as I find the short posts and bad spelling and grammar infuriating. I like a lot of depth, story, setting and character to my RPs, so am usually found in Casual and sometimes Advanced. Though, usually running my own RPs.

I'm 43 years old, and live in the UK, so I may not be on all the time.
I also like playing non-human characters, especially anthro ones, robots or synthetics, or some hybrid of both.

Outside of my RP tastes and hobby; I read a lot of books, play wargames and TTRPGs, make model aircraft and vehicles, and am also a brony and furry. I have been running a large local furmeet group for the last 10 years and have been involved in running a very successful UK MLP convention.

Most Recent Posts

Silver's Loadout
"Ah prefer ta lead from the front"

Arm-Mounted Weapons:
Right: Pile Bunker
Left: Heavy Minigun

Rear Waist:
Shotgun (buckshot + 8 buckshot on a shell carrier)

Hips:
Right: Pile Bunker speedloader x 3
Left: Shotgun Shells (Slugs + Buckshot, 2 x 16)

Back Weapons:
Right: Advanced Comms Pod (ACP)
Left: Recoilless Rifle ( 3 x Plasma, 3 x AP, 2 x EMP, 2 x Smoke)

Legs:
Right: Combat Blade
Left: Minigun Reload x 2
Silverwind Blade


"When you say poking, do you mean a scout patrol? Or a division?"


"From the sound of it," Silverwind replied as he started offloading his MAS from the truck, the built-in hoist lowering it to the floor of the bay as he spoke. "Looks like it ain't much more than a reinforced squad. Enough to be a problem for local forces, and ta give us a bit of a challenge. But not more'n we can handle if we do it right, ah reckon"

The cargo plane rumbled and jolted as it changed direction, the sensation of motion moving through their bodies at the huge jet lowered in altitude. The loadmaster and assistant staff moved around, aiding with the unloading process and the squad's technicians readied and loaded weapons, but kept them on safe. Hoses and support equipment were disconnected as the minutes ticked by quickly.

CAPTAIN! Are we landing or dropping in from a hover?
He didn't like how high pitched and nervous his voice sounded.


Silverwind was all-but ready to climb into his MAS, the back of the suit open and him clad in his operators' suit. He stepped in and the machine folded closed around him like metal origami, the weight and pressure of it against him reassuring. As the suit came to life, he hit the external speak to reply to Veep's question.
"This model of aircraft ain't capable of hoverin', Veep. Ain't gonna be a landin' either - we're air-droppin' in from a low-altitude jump out the rear ramp. Plane slows down and goes low as th' pilot dares, and we jump an' use our jets for brakin' our descent. Don't worry none; we practised this a few times over. Y'all will be fine"
The suit powered up fully, artificial muscle fibers energised and the weight of it was off the vulpine. It stood, and after a few experimental movements in the enclosed space, the tech gave him a nod of affirmation, and he headed toward the rear of the bay. The loadmaster gave him a thumbs up, which he returned with the armoured gauntlet of the suit.
"One minute warning, commander!"
"Roger that"
As the lights in the bay snapped red with the blare of a klaxon, the ramp powered open with a whine of hydraulics, natural light spilling into the bay from a crack that yawned open to reveal the desert below them, now much, much closer. The tops of some dunes and rises seemed almost close enough to brush the belly of the transport, it was so low, but it didn't look that much slower. Nonetheless, he clicked over to the squad radio channel.
"Assemble on the ramp, people. We're less than a minute out, so prepare for drop!"

@Smike, @Cozure, @Chevaleresse, @Dragon Mahteru, @Lovely Bones, @FalloutJack
Scott's Loadout:
9 x hardpoints (8 x wing, 1 centreline)
+ underbelly 25mm cannon


Kat's Loadout:
11 x hardpoints (8 x underwing, 3 x underfuselage)
+ internal 30mm cannon
Scott Valentine


Scott listened in as his people came back with their questions and comments, fixing each in turn with an attentive and understanding gaze in those mismatched eyes, giving them the attention they deserved as he listened to each, and then replied.

"Are there any civilians using the International Airports? I do not want to accidentally attack civilian transports for obvious reasons, and I don't think any of us want to either."

After that, Mykhailo lifted his head up, letting his blue eyes glint with reflected light that also briefly lit up his platinum blond hair, before saying, "The enemy aircraft, however... They're as good as brought down; hopefully their pilots have parachutes."

"I mean," Mykhailo clarified, "I hope that I spare as many lives as possible while proving effective..."


"It's like the kid says." she piped up. "We're going to be dropping bits of fuselages and uncooked ammo over Tripoli, and then the Navy's rocking up to stick its foot up the collective ass of Libya. Do you know if we're doing a full-scale war?"

"Besides that, not much else. Seems like more of the same, right?"


"Libya has been closed to international commercial air traffic ever since the sanctions have been imposed on them by the N/UN when they started raiding convoys and commercial shipping in the area. As far as I'm aware through all the briefing and intelligence materials I've received and been briefed on from HQ, internal commercial flights have been restricted as well, and typically only fly limited times during daylight hours. They've also been engaged in limited armed conflict with their neighbouring countries and there have been other internal security issues, so air travel has been almost exclusively a military or at least government affair for months. Not much chance of encountering any stray airliners or civilian transports. As for collateral damage..." He grimaced and shook his head, shrugging.
"I don't have time to debate the ethics of our profession right now. And even if I did; I'm ill-equipped to do so. I'm a combat pilot and not a philosopher and my college major wasn't philosophy or politics. I'd hope the Libyan government has provided adequate shelters for its' citizens. Far as I'm concerned, they shouldn't have launched attacks on international shipping and aircraft if they weren't prepared to deal with the repercussions of it. Hopefully no civilians will be injured or killed by our actions, but we're contracted to take on this mission and operation, and carrying out is how we get paid. Not to mention, the N/UN Forces are relying on us doing our job to do theirs safely".
His eyes shifted more to Ximena as he considered her question about things launching into a full-scale war, and he grimaced.
"I haven't been briefed beyond our part in the operation, and as it relates to our current contract. But I'm imagining that if the N/UN forces are coming into the area in strength, they're hoping to carry out a decisive strike with air and naval power to disable the Libyans ability to threaten anyone else in the region, and force them to the negotiating table. I imagine they're prepared to back it up with boots on the ground, but that's outside my area of responsibility, honestly. But yes; more of the same as far as our part goes. Albeit, more dangerous since we're going to fight the enemy on their own turf, right where they live".

As Yuna agreed with Jefe's assessment of things, he nodded, letting his expression slip to another slight, reassuring smile to back her up.
"Nothing we can't handle, with what we've done so far".

She gave Scott a casual two-finger salute. “Gotcha. Flight lead. Ground targets. Loud entrance, messier exit. I’m tracking.” A faint smirk. “Try not to steal all the fun before I get there.”


"Oh, don't worry Stingray; I think there'll be plenty to go around for everyone... I'd be more suspicious if there wasn't, honestly. It feels like they've been holding back on their A-Tier stuff, and we're gonna run right into it".

“As for full-scale war?” Ayvee shrugged one shoulder. “Feels more like the prelude. The kind where everybody pretends it’s still a limited engagement right up until the carrier shows up and starts rearranging coastlines. If it goes loud after tonight, it won’t be because of us. We’re just opening the door for them,” she finished. At Yuna's comment, Ayvee shot her a finger gun. "Bingo, that's about what matters to us in the end."

She then raised her hand to get Scott's attention.

"One question. To confirm, we're heading right back to Malta after this, yeah? As I said earlier, we don't exactly have any bunks left here after I uh... renovated the place."


"Exactly; we're just the opening warmup. The real kickoff is coming with the regular forces. As for heading back to Malta, that's it exactly. We refuel on the way out, just enough to top our tanks off to get us back to the airport, where we turn in for the night. If there's any serious damage or mechanical issues, this airfield will be our emergency divert". He smirked at her mention of the lack of bunks and winked. "I'll make sure there's a tent set up if you need to land here, hmm?"

“As for civilians at the airports, this is a possibility, considering the heightened alert I can imagine much of the civilian air traffic would be either diverted or grounded, however I would not be surprised if one decided to Leeroy Jenkins it.”


"Exactly right. I doubt we'll encounter anything, but there's always the possibility. We'll all be on our toes as it is, so be sure to listen to the overview from Skywatch, they'll have a far better picture than we do, and be able to identify any civilian traffic that's out of place. Check your targets as much as possible, but trust your own judgement. If a target seems sketchy or wrong, don't take the shot or call it out to Skywatch and the rest of us".

“Well, First Malta, now Tripoli, you seem to take us to all the best places Colonel” She grinned at their CO.


Scott grinned back at Amelia and shot her finger-guns as he did, glad of the light-hearted moment.
"Hey, I'll try and swing us a contract on the French Riviera or in Las Vegas next time; somewhere we can really enjoy things".

That seemed like the right moment to end things on, and time was ticking by. There weren't any other questions to ask or answer, and he'd addressed all that had come up. Wolf and his people were standing ready, their work complete expertly and incredibly efficient time, and the squadron's planes stood ready and refuelled, gleaming under the lights and flickering flames. He looked back to his pilots, and nodded at all of them with a firm, resolute expression and a steel in his eyes.
"Let's go finish this thing. See you all in the air"

There wasn't more to say, and he crossed to the Harrier's side, exchanging a fist-bump with the crew chief, and throwing a thumbs up to Kat as their eyes met as she climbed into the A-10's cockpit.
The APU was already running for the V/STOL jet, and it was a simple enough task to get everything back into flying order, running through the abbreviated combat preflight checks, working his way around the instrument panel clockwise after he buckled in. Mask on, he cycled the canopy closed as one of the ground crew stowed the jets' ladder and pulled the chocks free, holding up a handful of disarming pins from the weapons mounted under the wings. A thumbs up, and he advanced the throttle, rolling for the runway.
"Heartbreak to all aircraft. Take off when ready. Join on my wing at five thousand and orbit the field until everyone is airborne and ready to depart, we'll drop to five hundred feet to ingress, over"
With that, he adjusted the control that swivelled the engine nozzles for the Harrier's unique Pegasus engine, putting them at 45 degrees, boosting his lift. The jet couldn't quite manage a vertical takeoff while fully loaded, but it could still reduce its' run.
Then the throttle crept forward and with a scream, the jet thundered down the runway and clawed into the skies, ascending rapidly under his expert hand, gear slipping away almost as soon as they parted from the concrete of the runway.

Katherine Kane


Kat had landed without incident, her A-10 undamaged and victorious. What weapons she hadn't expended had been made safe as the plane was rapidly refuelled and rearmed for their next sortie over hostile territory. She outwardly remained resolute, and she had nothing but faith in Scott and her fellow pilots. Inwardly though, she felt a stab of uncertainty and fear.
While they'd been in the face of hostile firepower on the last sortie, it had been mostly outdated systems, or at least ones they had the drop on, and advantage over, even if they had the potential to cause them damage.
This time though, they were bearding the dragon in its' lair. The Libyans had more capable systems and aircraft, and they were flying into the jaws of them. They'd already encountered enemy mercs as well, and who knows how many more of them might also be waiting to pounce on the squadron. She shook her head briefly, forcing her wandering thoughts back to the briefing and the questions and answers from her wingmates and from Scott.
His characteristic easy confidence and laid-back expertise was reassuring, and she found herself assuaged of at least some of her concerns. The rest was eased by the demeanour of her fellow pilots, displaying that same attitude. She had no doubt that they all knew they were at risk - but weren't they always? It was just part of the job, after all.
She didn't have anything to contribute on her own part, so she stood quietly by and listened in, a lurking presence in the huddle. As they were dismissed, she climbed the retractable ladder up the side of her mount, patting its' side as like a familiar horse as she swung over the side and settled into the always-uncomfortable ejector seat, her huge frame ill-suited for its' confines, but at home in them nonetheless. She glanced over to the Harrier as she accepted her helmet from the flight crewman who was alongside, catching Scott's eye and giving him a thumbs-up that he returned.
Then it was showtime, and she worked methodically through her preflight, the methodical routine a ritual that let her push thoughts aside as the vacuum-cleaner whine of the TF34 engines overwhelmed everything, rising into a howl as she shut the canopy and rolled after the ground crew gave her the thumbs-up, turning into her position in the gaggle of aircraft heading for the runway, like ducklings in a line behind Scott's Harrier.

Soon enough, her turn to take to the skies came, and she throttled forward and nudged off the brakes, the straight-winged jet gaining lift and taking off quickly, rising into the darkness of the night sky with only the fag-ash glow of it's exhausts and the blinking of position lights marking it out as it rose into the night, joining the distant howl of engines orbiting the airfield that eventually died away into a rumble of distant thunder as they headed out over the sea toward the Libyan coast.

@Letter Bee, @Smike, @Finetales, @Damo021, @AvaP

Name: Yevgeny Aleksandrovich Lebed
Callsign/Nickname: Swan (or often 'Swanny')
Age: 38
Gender: Male
Appearance:


Yev stands at about 5' 10" and has a fairly burly build. He has a fairly amicable smile on his face most times, but when it turns serious is when you have to worry. If it turns to a frown or a grimace, things have really got bad. His left hand's ring finger is missing from the first knuckle down, due to an accident. However, if asked about it, he will often make up stories about how it happened for his own amusement, making them increasingly implausible, the more people ask.
He speaks with a fairly heavy, noticeably Eastern European/Russian accent and occasionally broken sentence structure, but is absolutely fluent and understanding in English, especially reading and writing.
Nationality: Former Russian
Personality:
Yevgeny 'Yev' Lebed is generally a pretty amicable, jovial man. He has a good sense of humour and is easily given to laughter, and good humour. He likes to have a good time, and prefers to see the light side of things - even if it sometimes is stereotypically bleak or dark Russian humour. This often serves to help him cope with the horrors he has seen - and participated in.
This does also mask a much more intelligent and deep personality and complex character. While he may act like something of a jovial clown, he has a much more introspective, thoughtful, and emotional intelligence to him, and a broad array of interests, rather than what the surface shows or might imply.
It also hides his guilt and shame for operations he was forced to carry out during his time flying with the Soviet Air Force, before he - like many others - went AWOL and turned against the government and their superiors as the country fell apart. Nonetheless, while he does not deny his past, and is not proud of what he did, he will stand up for himself if he is antagonised for it and is very clear that what he does now he sees as penance for his former actions, and is improving the world for the better.

History:
Yev was born into the USSR, to a relatively normal family. His father was an officer in the Soviet Air Force, and his mother a school teacher who specialised in history. While his father was an officer in the Air Force, he was less 'indoctrinated' than many of his comrades, thanks to a widely read background and several exchange tours with other Soviet allies. Coupled with his mothers' more liberal embracing of history, Yev and his sister were raised with a more open-minded attitude than many others, though they were also carefully taught to be very aware of who they revealed this to and how they behaved around others.
Nonetheless; Yev pursued a career in the armed forces and was quite successful, despite the difficult climate that was taking hold more and more within Russia. Shortages of almost everything were growing, as was discontent and desperation. But if anything, this meant that the Armed Forces were a good option - meals, housing, and comparatively comfortable living compared to the average man or woman on the street. And perhaps if one was part of the apparatus, there may be a better chance to change how it worked.

Eventually, as things came to blows in the late 90s, Yev saw his first action as the 'small wars' between Western and Soviet forces erupted, and he was put into combat. While he was terrified, he survived and even managed to somewhat distinguish himself to a modest degree. He flew over Afghanistan as well as various other theaters over Europe and in the Far East, as well as also providing air support during the Soviet involvement in the Rhodesian Bush War. He carried out exchange and training programs for foreign air forces in South America during the early 21st century, and experience some of Western culture by close proximity at this time, after travelling on leave passes across the border into more capitalist and cosmopolitan countries, as well as experiencing their culture through music, television, books, and films, as well as newspapers and the internet, all of which he found fascinating and eye-opening, and made him think even more than the teachings of his mother and father had.
He returned to Russia in late 2003. Just prior to the Heavenfall, his father suffered a serious heart attack and was hospitalised due to complications from the attack that left him comatose. This attack was bought on by an investigation into his Mother by the KGB, after an anonymous tip. Before much more could take place, the Heavenfall occurred and the chaos that followed.
Yev survived, but both his parents were killed, and his sister registered as missing. Pressured into flying, he was involved in several strikes and aerial operations to enforce borders and control in the face of rising chaos and disorder. However, as the orders became increasingly confusing, lacking in clarity, and cruel; he grew more and more dissatisfied and disillusioned in the increasingly despotic rule of 'The Party', or what remained of it. As more and more of the military and regional bureaucrats and leaders turned against them, he too joined the rebellious elements, before finally leaving Russia altogether as the government ceased any kind of functional control altogether, leaving to find somewhere he could hopefully find something better, and put his talents as a pilot to better use.

Eventually, this lead him to Shattered Steel, where he enlisted as a pilot, hoping to try and do something better with all he'd learned than what he'd managed so far.

Personal Gear:
  • Normal Shattered Steel Pilots' gear and equipment
  • MP-412 REX Revolver
  • AKS-74u Carbine (with red-dot sight)
  • EBook Reader
  • MP3 Player
  • Survival/Combat knife


Personal Aircraft: Su-24 Fencer
Aircraft modifications:
  • Compatibility with western GPS instead of GLONASS
  • Upgraded cockpit avionics (glass cockpit + helmet mounted sight)
  • AESA radar
  • Aircraft Carrier compatibility (i.e. folding vertical tail, tailhook, reinforced landing gear and associated systems)
  • Modified for single pilot operation


Anything Else:
Yev's Callsign of 'Swan' was awarded to him as a nickname. After his defection from the nationalist forces to the 'free' Russian forces, his Su-24 (a stock variant rather than the upgraded one he flies now) was painted a very light grey, almost white, to distinguish it from Nationalist aircraft. The nosecone was replaced after being damaged, and was left unpainted in the fibreglass composite, that had a yellowish tinge, making it look like a Swan. As his surname means 'Swan', he found the name fitting and adopted it as his own.
Even after the nosecone was repainted in black, the name stuck, and Yev adopted it as his own, keeping it after upgrading to modified and upgraded Su-24 when he joined Shattered Steel, and even repainting his aircraft in a similar colour scheme of almost-white and black nose.

The actual incident where he lost the part of his ring finger on his left hand was nothing military or dramatic at all; it was actually a domestic accident while helping a friend with a mechanical repair on their car; a jack collapsed and it trapped his finger.
"Ah, Silver. I do have a question of you, if you have the moment."

Gripping the 'handholds' now, Maxon was using them as sort of a ladder, taking care to hook the talons of his feet in as well, traversing his way up. He would step when he was in the prime position to do some pull-ups overhead, and proceeded to do so.

"I was wondering if you knew this... The Totality, of course, occupies our planets and uses our resources, but has command ever located a world they might care about, like a homeworld, a Totallus Unus, if you will?"


Silverwind leant back against one of the fuselage ribs as Maxon climbed his way up and started his work out, looking up at the Dranfel with a mix of amusement and admiration as he showed his physical prowess, speaking as he did the pull-ups. The inside of the huge transport plane was loud, what with the sounds of flight, the engines and the planes' various systems. His ears pricked up so he could listen closely to Maxon as he spoke.
He hummed, his ears swivelling and his thick, fluffy tail swishing once as he considered.
"Not that I've ever been aware of. Not a home planet, at least. A few strategic or controlled planets that didn't belong to any of us, sure. An' ones where they have factories, production plants, an' all that... Sure there's prolly some sorta plans fer goin' after it, but nothin' I've been made aware of - yet, anyways".

***


The flight was uneventful for hours, and became virtually boring after a while. Silverwind stretched out on the jump seats and managed to get some sleep for a while, after getting himself some food. His extensive experience of a soldiers' life allowed him to drift off despite the noise and relative discomfort of the jets' hold.

However, his rest was interrupted as the loadmaster shook him gently awake with a look of concern on his face as the vulpine canuss stirred awake with a jolt.
"What is it? Something wrong?"
"Sort of. Come with me to the cockpit, sir; there's a message for you".
Silverwind grumbled and swung his booted paws to the floor and followed along still stretching out his muscles and shaking the sleep off of him.
After a few minutes, he came back; much more businesslike and alert with a grimace on his face. The loadmaster and other assisting crew followed in his wake, and immediately went to the trucks and started to release the loading restraints that kept the MAS suits in place. The sense of movement shifted as the plane moved, changing course, and the vulpine steadied himself against one wall of the fuselage as the plane moved around them.
"Listen up everyone!" he called out loudly to gather their attention. "Change of plans, as things have escalated somewhat, an' not in a fun way. Good news is, we ain't gonna have to drive through the desert. Bad news; it's because we're takin' the much more direct route down, since the Totality have come pokin' around th' Mirror, an' we need to get down there double quick. Get helpin' unload the suits... an' preppin' em for an airdrop...!"

@Cozure, @Smike, @FalloutJack, @Lovely Bones, @Chevaleresse

Scott Valentine


Once the others were all gathered around, Scott launched into an explanation. His lips split into a hungry, eager, cocky grin that looked entirely too at home on his wolfishly rugged features and the energy and excitement sparkling in his eyes only added to it as he began to speak animatedly.

"All right everyone; I'm gonna start by saying: You kicked ten kinds of shit out of the Libyans out there. You all did utterly amazing, and I'm impressed and thrilled with all of you. Even more than I already was, and that was a shit-ton to begin with. Name-takers and heartbreakers one and all. But we're not done making our legends yet tonight". Scott paused and pulled his sleeve up just enough to check the Breitling watch on his right wrist, and nodded in satisfaction.
"In all their infinite wisdom, the pointy-heads at the N/UN have finally decided that our current corner of the world is worthy of their lordly interests, and as such, have pulled their collective fingers out of their buttholes and decided to do something about it, lest we show them up by single-handedly incapacitating the Libyan's ability to wage war. About now, two flights of B-1 Lancers will be taking off from the UK on a course that'll take them within range to launch cruise missiles at key targets across the country. The USS Elysium and it's carrier battle group should also be steaming through the Straits of Gibraltar, along with a combined Expeditionary Group to follow up that attack with a series of co-ordinated missile and air attacks, preceding a landing operation. But we're the first of first strikes. Since we're already in the area, we've been chosen to go in, and strike the first blow".
He drew a large tablet computer out of sleeve that he'd picked up earlier, and lay it on the hood of the service vehicle they'd crowded around. Tapping the screen after powering it on, it showed the capital of Tripoli, with a particular emphasis on Tripoli's international airport and Mitiga International airport.
"Both of the international airports close to Tripoli are also used by the Libyan Air Force, and have some of the longest runways and best facilities in the country, as well as two of the northernmost Early Warning and Air Traffic Control radars and facilities. If we knock them out prior to the attacks, it'll put the Libyan Air Force into chaos, and severely hamper their ability to detect the incoming missiles and aircraft, as well as coordinate any follow on attacks. Likewise, if we can damage the facilities themselves, it'll also force any air cover for the capital to come from further afield. So, we're going to go in there, and do as much damage as we can. We'll be expecting air cover, and this will be their most capable aircraft, as they're protecting the capital. Intel tells us that the best aircraft they have at hand are MiG-29s. Later ones, so they're respectable, dangerous and capable aircraft. Expect to also encounter Mirage F1's, and a threat from ground-based SAM and Triple-A systems, similar to what we've already encountered; HAWKs and ZSU's, as well as former Soviet systems; fixed and mobile. Take them out if you have the opportunity and the ordnance, but our targets are the runways, facilities, and the radar installations. We'll approach from the north west at low altitude and cross the coast to the west of Tripoli International, pop up to strike the airport and cause a ruckus. That ought to lure attention to that area, while we exfil to the south, then head to the north-east and circle up to hit Mitiga on our return leg out to sea, and back to Malta. We won't be splitting the squadron this time - all aircraft will be flying to attack both targets, but in two flights."
He paused to check to see if they were all paying attention and following him so far, glancing between the eyes of his men and women and gauging their reactions before he continued.
"Flight one - you'll be with me. Stingray, Valkyrie, Kitten and Jefe; you're on my wings. We're going in after the primary ground targets. Peacenik; you're leading flight two and with you are Brightspark, Calico and Sparrow. Your primary targets are the hostile aircraft and air defences. Appropriate ordnance is being uploaded to your jets now, and they're being refuelled. We'll have the C-130 here and ready to take off if anyone needs a tanker on the way back to Malta, and the helo crew will be here for CSAR if anyone goes down too, not to mention; we have allies in close proximity as well. Any questions?"

@Smike, @Letter Bee, @AvaP, @Damo021, @Finetales
Hey, y'all! Work got crazy busy - like busiest it's ever been around the holidays since I've worked there - and I totally lost track of jumping on this. I saw you're still open for CS submission, so if that's true and you'll take on one more, I'd love to join up finally!


Hey, sorry - I didn't see your message as I haven't checked the site for days over the holiday period, and I've only just got back to it myself.
Yes, still open for people to join in, though I'd say I'll probably close it with your submission as that will be plenty of players and characters to keep track of. Also, it'd be relatively easy to introduce you still at this stage, as we haven't got far in practical terms.
If you can get your CS up quickly, then I can incorporate you into current events with ease.
Scott Valentine


One by one, the rest of Scott's flight checked in, reporting their hits. In synch with their words, the volume of fire from the island dropped away, the streams of tracers stabbing up through the night skies falling silent.
As Scott's Harrier circled the island, one wing dipped, he could see the laser-like lines of fire reaching out toward them had died out and replaced with the glowing orange points of fires where their attacks had been driven home. Likewise, on the surface of the sea, the hulk of the corvette burned fiercely, sinking slowly and a stream of smoke stretching up into the night skies. The smoke choked out the moonlight, scattering reflections on the waves. The rest of First Flight slid into position on his wings, their missions completed.
"Cobalt One to Flight One; outstanding work. Move to holding position to meet up with Flight Two and hold above Lampedusa, over. Skywatch, this is Cobalt Leader; all targets destroyed, or no factor. Moving to rendezvous with Flight Two. Are we ready for phase two, over?"

Aboard the E-2D Hawkeye miles distant from the combat zone, radar operators checked and rechecked the positions of everything within the range of the powerful AN/APY-9 radar in the steadily rotating disc above the fuselage. Confirming the positions and location of the other aircraft that were part of the operation, the operators came back to Scott on the common channel for the squadron.
"Skywatch to Cobalt Squadron, confirmed. No hostiles in your area, phase two commencing now. Cobalt Hotel element, you have a go, over"

The squadron's Eurocopter Panther sped in, rotors thundering as the air slapped beneath them. Brigitte was at the controls and flying, night-vision goggles down over her face. The dimmed cockpit instruments cast an eerie glow over her fine features, while in the seat beside her Miles manned the weapon systems. The helicopter had been standing ready, and - along with the three AW-139M Helicopters from the Maltese forces - had lifted off on a timed schedule, as soon as that counter had reached a certain time. Crossing the distance from Malta to Lampedusa and holding in a pattern until the word was given, or until their fuel had run too low. Now the go had been given, they swept in. The more heavily armed Panther zoomed in, crossing the perimeter of the airport in moments and circling, looking for any lingering resistance. Behind it, the trio of Maltese Armed Forces AW-159 helicopters settled into a hover. Ropes unfurled from their sides, and the armed troops rappelled down, quickly moving out and raising their weapons to cover all the approaches. Small arms fire licked out at them, but punishing fire from the Panther lashed back from the miniguns attached to pylons on either side of the fuselage, and from the helicopters dropping the troops in. They spread out quickly, and the lackluster resistance quickly dropped away as the defenders surrendered or were taken down.
"Skywatch, this is Cobalt Hotel; the airport is secure. Ready for Phase Three, over"
"Cobalt Hotel, Skywatch, Confirmed. Cobalt Heavy, move in, over"
Holding in an orbiting pattern, the trio of C-130 Hercules transports moved in, staggered in a line to space their landings. Snowman and Lily were at the front in the Cobalt Squadron herc, and the approach was as smooth as butter as he guided the big four-engine prop-plane into a landing, reversing thrust as soon as the wheels touched down, and slowing enough to turn off the runway by the first taxiway. The second and third followed perfectly, and the helicopters had already settled down on the apron, personnel moving in and taking control of the air traffic control tower. A few moments later, the light across the airport came on and outlined the runway and all the other taxiways and areas perfectly.
"Cobalt Lead, this is Lampedusa Control; we're open for business. Feel free to make your way down, over"
"Roger, Lampedusa Control. Get the crews ready to change the oil, wipe the windshield, and rotate the tyres. We're coming in, over. Cobalt Squadron, follow me in to land, by the numbers, and rendezvous on the apron for a briefing. See you on the ground, over"

The Harrier's gear came down as Scott slid the jet onto a steady approach to the runway, talking back and forth to the control tower as the two-tone grey jet came down. He set the engine nozzles for a short landing, partially pivoting them and the flaps coming down. The touchdown was easy, and the rollout short as the STOVL jets unique flight system showed its' stuff. He taxied to the apron, landing lights flashing as he slid the canopy back, and shut down the engine, Wolf's detachment of maintenance personnel standing by to refuel the plane and load armaments.
Kat's A-10 touched down in the pattern, the wide-winged jet bouncing lightly on its' main wheels, before the nose came down gently and she slowed steadily, before turning off as well.
Scott climbed down as soon as he was shut down, stretching and accepting a bottle of water from one of the maintenance techs, drinking half of it in a few heavy gulps, and drenching his face in the rest, unzipping his survival vest and flight suit as he waited for the others to join him.
Silverwind was quite pleased, in a way, that he did get questions back. It meant that the unit were engaged, paying attention, and thinking actively about things. Keeper was the first to speak up, and as always; the Gennari's mixture of warm, personable jollity and zealous speech was slightly unnerving.
Silver manipulated his pebble's controls and the images, calling up the depressingly limited packet of data that had sent along with the briefing.
"Miserably less than I'd like, Keeper. There'll be more by the time we land, I have no doubt. They'll have had time to pore over things and get more info by then. But from what was in the video sent and what we know about their tactics and strategy, at least two to four attack gunships, and they won't be there without ground troops to actually do the exploration and taking and holding ground. Not sure how many, but at least a reinforced scout platoon; so that's about twelve standard troops with light infantry weapons supported by either a couple of heavy armoured troops, or heavy synths. Nothin' our MAS shouldn't be able to deal with - mebbe the gunships'd be a bit of a challenge - but nothin' to be taken lightly. But I reckon that ain't the whole picture".

Before he could say much more, Veep and Fea had their little squabble. He was surprised at it; but didn't interfere - not yet; it didn't seem likely to boil up into much more just yet, but he made a mental note to keep an eye on it. It was probably just pre-mission jitters, and there was plenty of time for them to be resolved and dealt with over the course of the flight. Besides which, tearing a chunk off of either of them in front of the others wouldn't do much for morale or unity, especially over a minor snap. Better to talk to them both individually and more personably and resolve it that way - if, indeed, there was anything to be resolved. And there was time enough.
Thankfully, Kerris and Maxon adding their thoughts gave his train of thought a chance to switch rails, and he addressed their words next.
"Good thought, Kerris. I dunno if they already tried something similar, but I can pass the idea along in any reply I send. Maybe it'll help, even if jus' fer a little while", he nodded to Maxon, the bigger of the pair and continued. [color=light blue]"I agree - we're against the clock already, so bein' able to move inta position swiftly will be essential. I'll try and see if I can arrange alternate transport from th' airport to our destination. Might be helicopters or somethin' that can get us there quicker'n road. But either way, yer right that we're gonna to be playin' catch-up. If the Totality have discovered the Mirror, then I suppose we'll gonna have to deal with that in whatever way we can."[/color]
His ears pricked up as HB, the other Gennari of their team spoke up. His experience with them during the training they'd carried out so far had been curious. They seemed inseparable from the - relatively; he was hardly in a position to comment with his own height - diminutive human woman. Currently in her wheelchair, he knew that she had no problems with mobility when it came to the battlefield and an MAS. Still, the duo had a curious sort of relationship. Sometimes it was like a therapist and patient, others it was like a teacher and student. He of course knew full well about their history - although, he suspected there was a fair amount of redacted content - and it was plain upon their skin as well, and in that almost dreamy-eyed expression and their manner of speech. However, the Gennari had something of a beauty and... allure to them physically that was enticing to him, even if their mannerisms were a little... unconventional. The question they asked though, was absolutely relevant, and he nodded as he listened, before replying.
"You're right, HB. Egypt ain't a member of the Coalition, but I think the fact a mirror opened up in their back garden and the the Totality swarmin' through it has 'em a lot more willin' t' be friends and be, mm, graciously cooperative than they might be otherwise. I reckon we might get a l'il rudeness, snobbery, an' personal hostility from some nationals if we have ta deal with any of 'em. But I don't reckon they're about to treat us as hostiles or try and open fire on us. They're likely t' be more worried about the Totality... but yeah, keepin' an eye on our own backs is prob'ly worth doin' too".

There weren't anymore questions after that, so he dismissed them and left them to move around the plane, or take care of whatever business they can, now they were in flight. He took the chance to do the same himself. He'd shoved a few drinks into his pack, along with a number of snacks; quickly chomping down a power bar and taking a good long drink from a bottle of 7-up that was just about on the edge of cold. He cast a one-eyed glance around at the others, seeing what they were up to and gathering his own thoughts. Bereft of something more to do, he idly crossed over to the transport trucks and the units' MAS suits lined up alongside them and strapped down into transport positions. He knew the machine would be in optimum condition - or, at least, it should be - but the actions were more, as he'd thought earlier about Veep's own, something to do to occupy the mind and hands, rather than sitting there and stewing.
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