SlashInfinite

Operation Vanguard, Act I- The only easy day was yesterday (high-casual)

Omw home atm, so I'll get mine done tomorrow! Doubt anything I get done after 01:00 would be presentable haha

Operation Vanguard, Act I- The only easy day was yesterday (high-casual)

@AlShayatinAhem oh um what ahem

;)

Operation Vanguard, Act I- The only easy day was yesterday (high-casual)

I'm not home yet, but I'll get a character done when I get home if I'm still down! Should be home the day after tomorrow

Lords of the Stars [Military Space Opera]

Won't be home for a few days but pretty sure I'm committed.

Also @caliban22 I think we were in a brief TIE Fighter RP?

Lords of the Stars [Military Space Opera]

This looks like a lot of fun! I might be joining this!

Modern Battlefield- No place for no hero

@AlShayatin Haven't got a premade one, no. But I can dish something up fairly quickly.

Modern Battlefield- No place for no hero

I might be interested in this too! :)

Into the Abyss

Year 2556.
Earth, UNF International Airfield, France.

Loud engines roared across the skies, as several ships flew around the busy airfield. Marines and crewmembers ran about their business, be it prepping ships or running errands. White and blue uniforms swarmed the airfield in neat formations and organised patterns. The airstrip was still kept repaired, even though it had grown quite obsolete in modern times. It was a symbol by now, of the old times, before interplanetary ships and vertical launches. Several large UNF ships were stationed in the base, which had been expanded several times over the years. It was the size of a small city by now, with hangars, offices, barracks and apartments. It wasn’t solely military personnel either, but plenty of civil workers worked there as well. It was late afternoon by now, and the sun had begun setting. Even so, the day was far from over for the most of them. That included Mireille Lemaitre, who was on her way to the Intrépide, a multi crew ship. 60 meters in length, and 13 meters in height, the French-produced assault and transport ship was sturdy and trusted. The Nostradamus Class-A had been used for both fighting and transporting, serving as a heavier ship than a standard one-man fighter. The crew aboard it, consisting of seven, was quite the international gathering, from all across the world. Flight Lieutenant Mireille served as the primary pilot, under Captain Lewis, a Canadian-born officer.

The crew had gathered the last things, settling in. They were set for Beijing this evening, having been assigned to the UNF Bismarck in the last minute. Mireille had been told little, and her natural born curiosity was getting the better of her. She dumped her belongings on the humble bed, allowing a sigh to escape her. The day had been so awfully long and busy, especially with the call for mobilising the crew on such short notice. She peered at herself through the mirror, frowning slightly at the sight she saw. The woman before her looked dreary and stressed, her neat braid being the only thing that made her look presentable, at least in her own opinion. Mireille flipped a card around between her fingers, giving it a brief look every now and then. The letters on the card glowed a passive blue. The official identification each UNF employee was given at the employment. Each bit of the information was due to change and would do so automatically, quite nifty, the thing. Her eyes glanced at the card.

Lemaitre, Mireille
Female, 27
Blood type, AB
Flight Lieutenant, UNF Intrépide, Nostradamus Class-A Military Ship
United Nations Force
French Department

“Mireille! Packed your things?” A familiar voice spoke up as the footsteps approached. The girl looked up, offering a tired smile towards Alexander Neumann, one of the gunners aboard the Intrépide. He was slightly older than her, somewhere around the mid-thirties, far as she recalled. Alexander was a German-born marine, having been assigned to the Intrépide for just as many years as Mireille by now. He always carried a formal but welcoming smile, and today was no different.
“Yes, yes.” Mireille started, her English having a clear French accent. “It’s been a long day, don’t you think? You’ve heard anything from the captain? What we’re doing in Beijing?” She asked, eager as ever.
Alexander nodded, rubbing his newly trimmed chin. “I’ve heard nothing. Lewis is yet to return from the meeting. I assume he’ll brief us as we fly.” Alexander rolled a shoulder, as the two headed towards the cockpit. The entire crew was gathered, exchanging greetings and whatnot. They had been off for a week, as they were stationed in France.
Lewis returned not long after, ordering an assembly within the crew quarters. He was well around his forties, and had been in the navy for more than twenty years. His face was stoic as ever, as he addressed the crew, fancy clipboard in hand. He did love that clipboard of his.

“Very well. I’m glad you all were able to prepare so quickly. As you know, we’re to fly to Beijing tonight. Upon arrival we’ll certainly be briefed even more. Nonetheless, we’ve been assigned as a support to the UNF Bismarck, a corvette to escort the civilian exploration vessel, The Avalon.” Lewis wet his lips, looking up from the clipboard briefly. The crew was listening, each of them as curious as Mireille was each day. The captain continued. “We’re to embark on a mission to the outer reaches of the Milky Way.” They were silent; though it was clear they all had questions of the nature of the mission. Lewis squinted his eyes at them, smiling slightly.
“We’ll know more in Beijing. For now, welcome to Operation Illumination.”

“UNF Intrépide, you’re cleared for launch.” The radio buzzed through the speakers in the cockpit. Merielle, Captain Lewis and the secondary Pilot William Miles sat ready, plotting coordinates and flight route. The Intrépide’s engines roared loudly, as the ship fired up. It pushed itself directly up into the air, lights flashing in a steady rhythm by the end of front and rear of the ship. Several spotlights lit the ground beneath the ship up, as it took off in the night.

“Launch successful, retracting landing gear.” Mireille’s voice echoed through the radio system. The ship roared again, as it flew upwards, ascending with incredible speed, leaving behind trails of smoke. The trip wouldn’t take more than two hours through international air, the Nostradamus classes being known for impressive speed in the atmosphere, as well as in space. The ground beneath them seemed to move quicker than one could fathom, the lights of cities passing many kilometres beneath them. It wasn’t long till they were in Asia, and soon China.
“UNF Headquarters, this is UNF Intrépide, requesting landing pad.” Muttered Captain Lewis into a microphone, releasing a green button. The button turned red for a few seconds, until it began blinking yellow. Lewis held it down again, listening to the voice.
“UNF Intrépide, this is Tower One, proceed to landing pad five.”
Lewis nodded to himself.
“Acknowledged, proceeding to LP five.”
The ship descended between the skyscrapers, just the street across the UNF Headquarters building. Mireille admired it with a smile, as they brought down the ship upon what looked mostly like a parking lot for ships. A swift bump announced the landing, as the headlights of the ship were turned off. Now, only the lights of the landing pads and buildings surrounding them lit them up. Mireille could almost make out the offices in the building, as they removed their belts.

Into the Abyss

Into the Abyss

“The dark dangerous forest is still there, my friends. Beyond the space of the astronauts and the astronomers, beyond the dark, tangled regions of Freudian and Jungian psychiatry, beyond the dubious psi-realms of Dr. Rhine, beyond the areas policed by the commissars and priests and motivations-research men, far, far beyond the mad, beat, half-hysterical laughter... the utterly unknown still is and the eerie and ghostly lurk, as much wrapped in mystery as ever.”

― Fritz Leiber

The Realm of Men

The wind was unusually calm that morning. The ship sailed forward without any disturbance, not even the sea protested as the wooden construction moved through the blue depths. The tradesmen aboard the ship went about their business, recovering from an awful storm which had haunted the ship the night before. They had set sail from the Midlands long ago, and Eliana could not quite keep track of the days. She had been on the way to Raylia for weeks by now, after arriving at a harbour in the Midlands, where she managed to convince the tradesmen to take her along with them on the ship.

The girl sat in the small cabin she had been given and stared out the window. The waves moved in that blue colour everything did for her recently. After the council had managed to fix her sight to an extent, a patch, as the grandmaster Larnicus had put it. She looked around in the cabin. There was no one else here, a simple silence, which she expected she would grow used to in the coming weeks, maybe even months or years. There was no saying how long it would take to find those Lafontairre brothers, or if they were even still alive. Far as Eliana knew; the small sparks of a rebellion might already have been extinguished.

“Land ahoy!” the boy in the mast shouted, as Eliana wandered outside to the deck. In the distance, she could sense a horizon of a town, but it was faint. The men amongst her began discussing amongst themselves, of how they’d sell their wares, what they’d spent the money on and so on. None of them had spoken to the half-blind girl, besides when food was being served. It had been far from enjoyable, but Eliana suspected it could’ve been a worse trip.

The chatter from the harbour soon overwhelmed the men aboard the ship, as the ship’s passengers made their way onto the dock. Eliana adjusted the straps on her satchel, as she made her way towards the centre of the fisherman’s town. She was headed towards Loyton, wherever that was. East, she had been told. “And east I am.” Eliana sighed to herself.

It had not taken long to find the local tavern. It was loud inside, and whether it was a celebration or a brawl could be anyone’s guess. Eliana stood outside the door, listening to the madness inside. She had not been on her own for years and felt an awful anxiety rising within her, at the realisation of her situation. The door before her barged open, as a man stumbled outside, giving her a half-arsed greeting as he drunkenly stumbled forward, headed for god knows where. She offered him a wave, as he passed. And with a quick step, she wandered inside, groaning at the many new shapes that glowed blue before her. “Best fit in.” A voice whispered from somewhere, and Eliana turned her head in confusion, finding no one to be near her. Several people had passed her, and each one of them could’ve been the culprit. Nonetheless, it had sent a chill down her spine, and thus her paranoia already grew.

“Loyton?!” The man snorted into a loud laughter, waving his hand about. “What in the Queen’s name do you want to find in Loyton!? It’s nothing impressive, jeune dame.” His raylian accent sliced right through, and Eliana simply sat with her hands in her lap, sighing internally.

“But I’m certain someone is nuts enough to take you. It’s a mess, jeune dame.” He almost laughed, taking a swig of his mead.

“Because of the rebels?” Eliana bluntly asked him. The man shot her a glare, hushing her.
“You want to get tossed into the cells? This is a town of the Queen! And there isn’t any rebellion, mind. It was false rumours, I tell you.” The man snorted again, more so disappointed this time. He leant across the table, lowering his voice. “But you sparked my curiosity. Why in the world do you want to find damned rebels? And how do you intend on doing that, with them des yeux étranges?” he motioned to her eyes, though she knew little of what the words even meant.

“My eyes?” Eliana paused, wetting her lips as she pondered. “An accident, but I’m only half-blind, really.” She muttered, unsure how he would respond. He sat and stared at her for a bit, shaking his head.
“I still asked you a question.”

Eliana looked over her shoulder, peering towards the other silhouettes in the room. She had hoped a young girl asking about rebels would be common here, but it seemed not.

“My father got killed in a skirmish. I was told the rebels got to him, collateral damage, or so.” She looked back at him, nodding sternly. “I want to know the truth.”

From what she could make out, he smirked back at her, grinning to himself. “Thought I could tell from those R’s.”
Eliana looked towards him, eyebrow perked. “What?”

“The way you pronounce your R’s, jeune dame. ‘S a hint of Raylian, I tell you.” He proudly leaned backwards, as if he had just solved an ancient riddle of some gypsy. Which left Eliana to sit silent for a moment, contemplating the way she pronounced her R’s. It could not have been much noticeable, as no one had ever commented on the bloody thing before. Truth be told, she had not spent much time in Raylian company either. It was almost a thought interesting enough, that it took her mind off the heavy smell of mead that had occupied the room.

“Nonetheless, I ain’t sending you in the way of rebels, ‘cause there ain’t any.”
Her hands went to clutch a small totem, residing around her neck as a simple and small necklace. The wooden material was a soothing friend, as she let her mind race. It might’ve been true. Maybe there weren’t any. Maybe, they had all been killed by the orders of this Queen, that nobody had supposedly seen in months.
She sat alone at the table for long, tapping her fingers against the wood. The drunkard had left her long ago, when she had silently murmured a ‘thanks’, for the little help he had been able to give her.
Her stream of thoughts was interrupted by the sudden silence that overtook the room. Someone had stepped into the tavern, clad in something that sounded awfully heavy to carry around. The soldiers shouted something in the native Raylian, which Eliana understood barely the half of. They repeated themselves in the common tongue, frustrated.

“Anyone who arrived on a ship this morning, this noon or this evening; steps outside – now!”