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Alea Iacta Est (IC)

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rednblack

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« Reply #90 on: (18:19:01/05-23-17) »
Breaking their standstill, one of the UCAS soldiers takes point, advances under some supporting fire, and practically steps on Swoopy before he sees him.  Swoopy can see that look in his eyes, even through the balaclava, even through the blizzard, even through his aching and bruised sides.  The look says, naughty, naughty, it says I see you, it says, Got you now, motherfucker.

Swoopy rolls, but before the soldier can fire, the roto-drone descends, kicking up enough snow to blind the shooter, and whining like a hellhound in heat.  It's probably the sound that does it, as the soldier abandons his original -- and mostly stationary, and prone -- target and fires off a long burst skyward.  Unfazed, the roto-drone climbs again, firing as it strafes.  One burst goes wide, but the other is directed at the ork who's been flash-banged and beat to hell and back already.  The last round catches him under the arm as he raises his light machine gun, and he falls in a swirl of white.
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GloriousRuse

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« Reply #91 on: (02:50:41/06-12-17) »
Swoopy watched as the dolier levled the SMG at his face, and started raising his rifle, knowing he would never make it. Then something loud and buzzing and full of snow dragged the guy's attention up with a good long burst. The rifle completed it's arc. Swoopy squeezed the trigger.

CLICK.

SHIT.

The SMG began to come down again. Swoopy had one option. He leapt forward from his half prone half crouched position and took the guy down around his knees. Everyone went  down into the snow, primary weapons lost in the ruckus. Soon it became a panting, struggling match, all finesse gone, as each man struggled to pin the other in place long enough to pull a different weapon and murder his opponent. Less than lethal was off the table as they scrabbled , bit, and clawed. Swoopy though he had the upper edge for a moment, and took a hand off to grab his knife, ready to sink it to the hilt. Instead he caught a headbutt.

A headbutt is never pleasant to receive. With 6 pounds of kevlar mix and the assorted pointy bits used for hardware mounting...well, its a bad day. Swoopy rocked back for a second, his nose probably broken and seeing stars. Then he felt a sharp stabbing pain in his ribs and saw that this fucker had put a knife in him.The soldier's knife came out for another quick stab...

Swoopy screamed in rage, and pain, and desperation.grinding his helmet up and under the soldier's, buying enough time to catch the incoming hand. He pulled his own knife, and the soldier grabbed the potentially fatal writst. The two entered a simple struggle of bodily strenght and endurance, each side turned utterly feral as they tried to plunge their blade into the other man...

MDMann

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« Reply #92 on: (03:18:13/06-14-17) »
Danyes swooped and dived in his combat with the metal dog. One benefit of the swirling melee of close combat was that you weren't getting shot at, what with the high risk of hitting your mates.

Suddenly there was a rustling in the undergrowth. No way Dan could hear it. Yet he did. Low to the ground and pair of lambent eyes stared silently at him, reflecting the firelight dancing in the night. Danyes twisted for a closer look, his opponents dog brain of scant concern.

Rounds twisted the air where he'd been moments before, punching through his clothing buy miraculously missing him completely! The hail of fire continued as the other dog shot rapidly into the combatants. Of course, not shooting into melee ignored such things as machine targeting and the fact his opponent was plastic and wires. He spun through the night furiously dodging the rest of the fire. Thanking cat for his close escape Daniel turned to finish his mechanical opposition. When more gunfire tore into it, sparks spitting and ripping it to shreds. The rotodrone tearing the dog appart. Not firing into melee applied to ones own machines too it appeared...

Taking stock, Dan looked around but the animal was now nowhere to be seen. What was to be seen however was the other dog and a furious tussle ongoing on the ground. As he watched Swoopy seemed to take a knife to the gut. Decision made. Dogs were a good target but he was still a medical.  He charged, diving into the mad ground scramble to aid his squaddie.

rednblack

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« Reply #93 on: (12:39:37/06-14-17) »
Improbability after improbability: a fire spirit joins the fray just in front of the dragon, blocking the Captain's route.  Shiriki briefly considers flipping on the assault cannon and making quick work of the spirit in the way that only spells, foci, and explosive ordnance can, but with the payload, the ethereal nature of spirits, and his SO on the far-side of the target, he thinks better of it, training his sights further downrange, where the melee is still very much at a standstill. 

It's beautiful, this interlocking grace between man and machine.  Shirki commands the port gun to lock onto unauthorized drones, while he targets with the starboard, aims upwind, and issues the command to fire.  Then he's overriding the targeting software to push the reticle upwind on the port gun before firing a second burst.  The gun winds down as it delivers the last of its payload, but Shiriki can't help but smirk in his meat body at the two twisted doberman silhouettes before him.

<<Warning: Ammunition Low: Port Vindicator: 0/5,000>>
Warning: Ammunition Low: Starboard Vindicator: 10/5,000>>
<<Warning: Ammunition Low: AVAC: 5/500>>


Things are not looking good on the ammo front, with something like a sixteenth of a second's worth of chambered ammunition, and only a handful of assault cannon rounds. 

The second doberman begins to stir, and Shiriki swings the remaining active vindicator to its position.  Ghost I hope they hurry.
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Jayde Moon

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« Reply #94 on: (01:24:45/06-16-17) »
She had moved toward the helicopter, hoping to clear a space for Ité when the Spirit of Fire appeared before her.  The Earth Spirit was still a few meters away, dutifully dragging the fallen troll.  The others were occupied as well.  The fiery being was immense, snow around it skipping the liquid phase and going straight to vapor.  Whoever summoned this had powerful mojo.

Besides being a barrier between her men and their flying carriage, the spirit threatened the vehicle itself.  It was too close for the dragon to properly engage and it could match speeds with the helicopter.  This one threat could end their chance at escape.  Chante couldn't let that happen.  Time to add another tale to the Wildcat legends...

She tossed the Ares Alpha into the snow.  The stick-n-shock rounds would be completely useless.  She didn't feel bad about leaving the weapon behind, there was nothing on it of particular use to any UCAS R&D, a large portion of their Troops used the same assault rifle after all.  The literal monetary value was a paltry sum against the success of the mission.

With her hands free of the bulky firearm, she drew her two tomahawks from the loops at her belt.  Some derided her insistence on carrying the archaic weapon, but to her it represented the Warrior Spirit of the tribes.  She was well versed in their use and George had blessed them in a ritual meant to prepare them to receive a greater enchantment.  The Bear Shaman's wakȟáŋȟʼaŋ was strong and Chante believed in it.

In all of it, her stride hadn't slowed.  She charged headlong towards the Greater Fire Spirit, her voice raised in a shrill ululation.  The Spirit  set itself to receive her charge.  She feinted right, then dove left, rolling in a somersault before catching her feet, spinning with the tomahawks aimed at the spirit's torso.  The spirit tried to match her movements, but had been fooled by the maneuver.  It rolled into the wicked blades and they bit deep into its being.  The fire flickered and leapt along the hafts towards her hands, but she pulled them back, gouts of flame spraying forth like blood from a mortal wound.  The spirit's head pulled back and it roared in agony.

Chante drummed the tomahawks back and forth, up the side of the spirit, smaller cuts that it felt.  Before she could continue her assault, the spirit faded from sight, back into the safety of the astral plane.  Chante swung slightly off balance as the tomahawks found no purchase in empty air.

She had shocked it from the material, but only for the moment.  They had to act fast, position themselves for its return.  It was weakened, if they were ready, they could end it.  She doubted the summoner would have the strength to gather another so quickly enough to stop them.

<<@Team: Fire Spirit is re-positioning, be ready for it to come back.  We can bring it down... wrap it up and get on the bird.>>

She exuded confidence, adrenaline coursing.  We've got this..
« Last Edit: (01:26:41/06-16-17) by Jayde Moon »
That's just like... your opinion, man.

MDMann

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« Reply #95 on: (08:00:26/06-17-17) »
Dan-Dan jumped headlong into the melee. He looked for an elegant sophisticated way to end the fight quickly as he traded blows with his opponent and coordinated with Swoopy, taking advantage of his opponent's prone position. Gripping his knife tightly he focussed. He stamped them in the head with a brutal stomp. That would do it. Elegant.

Suddenly, a mule kicked him in the back! He'd been shot! Quickly checking his reads, Dan decided his armour had fortunately absorbed the impact. His tacnet identified the shooter as one of the opposing soldiers. Apparently, they were more than happy to shoot into melee after all...

GloriousRuse

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« Reply #96 on: (19:41:49/06-17-17) »
Swoopy watched as Doc came out of nowhere, ready to end this fight.

It is possible that someone somewhere would break this down into a teachable set of team moves. Communication. Coordination. The warrior spirit. A testimony the reverent magical arts of physical prowess.

They would be polishing the truth, which was that Swoopy screamed "KILL THIS FUCKER" and doc stomped on the Anglo's head. Which did not actually kill the fucker in question, but it might as well have. The opening let Swoopy shift his weight andjam his knife past the soft groin protector on his opponent. The snow very quickly turned red.

Tecumseh

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« Reply #97 on: (00:45:04/06-18-17) »
Private First Class Pollock was a bit of a fuck-up. Despite having loving, attentive parents, Pollock always managed to find the wrong crowd. In high school he bullied freshman and mouthed off to teachers. His friends laughed and encouraged him and provided the necessary social feedback to encourage Pollack to new levels of douchery. The principal finally expelled Pollack when he brought a butterfly knife to school and used it to impress girls.

With more free time on his hands than he was accustomed to, Pollack turned to various forms of larceny and amphetamines. He developed a taste for betameth and, during one particularly memorable bender, stole a car and wrapped it around a lamppost.

Pollack had the fortune or misfortune to draw a particularly patriotic judge, who sympathized with the plight of Pollack's upstanding parents. The judge gave Pollack a choice: four years in the UCAS Army or four years in a penitentiary. The food was better in the pen but Pollack guessed there was less shower sex in the Army. He enlisted.

In basic training, Pollack found his calling. The structure suited him, being removed from his bad influences did wonders for his behavior, and he found himself enjoying some of the more exotic labors. During one drill he found himself unexpectedly crawling around on a cold concrete floor in the middle of the night while his drill sergeant fired off magazine after magazine of blanks into the room. Despite the noise and the discomfort and a banging headache, Pollack actually found himself grinning at the absurdity of it all. Plus there was the prospect that if he got his GED, made E-5, and stayed squared away then he could qualify to be a drill sergeant and be a professional bully. That was something worth working toward.

For the first time in his life, PFC's parents were proud of him. Making it to E-3 had qualified him for aluminum bone lacing, which - he realized in an unguarded moment of self-reflection - made him proud of himself. The Army gave him a vision and the Army was showing him the way.

PFC Pollack's next step is to make it to E-4, and that's how he finds himself running around outside in a blizzard with an SMG and a growing sense that this isn't actually an elaborate drill. The point is brought home when Swoopy tackles him by the knees and starts pawing around for a knife.

Pollack doesn't have much experience sticking his knife in people, but his wayward youth and idle time with his butterfly knife pays off when he beats Swoopy to the stab by producing his own knife in record time and plunging it into the other man. Hey, this isn't too hard! I can do this! PFC Pollack thinks to himself as he envisions and medal and a promotion.

The first rule of knife fighting is, "Don't get into a knife fight with someone better than you." So far so good, as Pollack's training is fresh while Swoopy's is rusty. The second rule is, "Don't get into a knife fight with more than one person at a time." In Pollack's defense, it was Swoopy who attacked him, not the other way around, and Pollack certainly didn't expressly invite SSG Danyes over to stomp him in the head a few times, but that's what happens anyway. The helmet and the bone lacing keep the trauma to a minimum, but his brain bouncing around his aluminum skull does buy Swoopy a precious moment to stick his combat knife where the sun don't shine, and then to do it again for good measure.

The stabbing doesn't hurt, per se, which could be due to the freezing temperatures, or Pollack's adrenaline, or the sharpness of knife. Pollack feels a certain wetness, which is annoying given the weather, and strange sensation that he likeness to a hose losing pressure unexpectedly. Unfortunately the hoses in question are his internal iliac arteries. Pollack finds himself being unceremoniously flipped onto his back by Swoopy, who staggers to his feet with a hand pressed over his own wound.

It's so pretty, Pollack thinks, looking up at snow falling through the trees as the gunshots and fireworks slowly fade into the background. Pollack is so tired, which is normal because it's the middle of the night and he had a long day and struggling with another man for a knife is exhausting. He feels cold for a moment but the sensation dims and is replaced by a sense of his muscles relaxing. It would be so, so easy just to close his eyes and go to sleep, so he does. Pollack settles himself into the soft snow, lets his eyelids slowly drift down, and then says good night.

Jayde Moon

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« Reply #98 on: (11:59:10/06-19-17) »
The volume of gunfire in the woods was definitely dropping off.  Likely most of the UCAS troops sent to stop them were down or otherwise out of the fight.  A few staccato bursts still echoed through the trees, but it felt like things were winding down.

Well, until that fiery bastard shows back up, any second now...

Chante dropped her invisibility and ran over to where her Spirit of Earth was dragging Ité towards the bird.  She had a vague idea of helping somehow, but the towering thing was managing just fine.  She chuffed in exasperation, then heard a sound behind her.  Turning, she noticed one of the remaining UCAS troops standing somewhat unsteadily, aiming a submachine gun at the Wildcat and her giant friend.

"Really?" she called out.  "Honestly, you're by yourself... you can pull the trigger.  Things might go right and maybe you'll get a medal or something... or maybe you'll get something else for your trouble..." She hefts her tomahawks pointedly.  She also pushed a little bit of mojo into her statement.

The Soldier stood for a split second more, then turned to 'tactically withdraw'.  Chante nodded and began to scan around for the Fire Spirit.  It would be back any moment...
« Last Edit: (02:06:25/06-22-17) by Jayde Moon »
That's just like... your opinion, man.

rednblack

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« Reply #99 on: (16:24:57/06-19-17) »
Before Shiriki can issue the command to fire, he sees Chante's more than adequate feint and attack on the Fire Spirit.  Hulking as it is, the . . . thing howls once and disappears.  But not like disrupted disappears, more like folding into itself disappearing.  Shirki's seen this enough to know that it will be back, and most likely it'll time and place it to take advantage of its particularly destructive characteristics.  With the rest of the soldiers beating a hasty retreat -- except for one that looks like it might be beating an even hastier retreat out of this plane altogether, Shiriki orders the roto-drone to target the last active drone and jumps back into his meat body. 

The cabin is at once brighter and less clear than peering through the sensors of the Dragon.  So far no alerts.  He swivels in his chair, draws his Predator III -- practically an antique at this point -- and scans the back of the transport helicopter.  Just try it.

The roto-drone has just finished pumping half-a-dozen or so rounds into one of the UCAS soldiers from above, forcing her to take a twitchy knee, when the updated targeting commands come through.  The assault rifle swivels, and the drone holds its position as the low elevation makes for the most stable firing position available to the flier, and lets loose with two bursts of stick and shock.  The first connects, shorting the doberman out and the combat drone folds up into its easy-to-carry configuration, completely fragged.
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MDMann

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« Reply #100 on: (18:32:08/06-19-17) »
Hails of plastic tore the night as the doberman again barked its worst. Dan shifted position slightly so that the bullets tore harmlessly past him into the undergrowth. Swirling death then tore through it as Shirikis drone laced into it, almost folding it in half. Dan paid it no mind.

Digging out a trauma patch from his supplies he roughly bound their assailants wounds together. It wasn't pretty but it was quick and should at least stop him from bleeding out. He was in his own  for the blizzard, but with medical care and some new intestine he should survive all right. As an afterthought he took a small cut from the scalp, with some hair to add to the collection. Counting coup.

Dan grinned, blood dripping from his hands as he turned to Swoopy.

[color=blue"]Hey Swoopy. What did you think of the game last night?"[/color]

With that he slapped the trauma patch onto his side and let the chemicals seal his flesh. Of course it felt like acid melting his skin, because it was acid eating his skin. Dan didn't feel a thing. It probably wasn't the time to mention the painkillers in his pack. No chance of being drowsy off of this treatment.

He could treat his patients when they were in exfil. Time to haul hoop.

Suddenly it went dim on the astral as the elemental retreated to it. It seemed poised...

As they jogged along warily towards the whirly gig, Dan again saw eyes in the undergrowth. Stooping he saw a small kitten shivering at its dead mothers side, milk from its teats freeing in the air as it mixed with the black blood torn through its side by a stray bullet. The rest of the litter was scattered, burnt and frozen by the elements. Dan scooped up the survivor as he made for the chopper, moved by its plight. Or cat. His knife purred in sympathy.

GloriousRuse

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« Reply #101 on: (20:11:27/06-21-17) »
Swoopy watched as Dan dropped one of the plates out of Swoopy's armor, cut away the clothing beneath, and  sprayed him down with a potent aerosol of local anesthetic and anti-septic. The biting cold of the blizzard on exposed skin died away. The QuicKlot bandage over his side barely registered as more than unpleasant pressure. It'd keep you moving for sure. Dangerous though. Man could tear a 4 inch hash clean back open and not even realize it till he got woozy. Best to move slow for now.

Swoopy picked up his rifle as Dan went to work on the rando who'd knifed him. Swoopy, in his his higher brain, realized that Dan treating this guy was in line with the mission, and no doubt the political intent of whatever councilmen had decided this rather violent and supposedly clandestine insertion had to happen. The part of him keyed up on the fight and mortally (irony!) offended at how close he'd just come to dying wanted nothing more than to watch that SOB bleed out. Honestly, it was probably best to start shuffling g to the chopper now rather than dwell on it...

Jayde Moon

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« Reply #102 on: (02:19:35/06-22-17) »
Chante shifted her perspective as she moved back to the helicopter with Ité.  The ground beneath her darkened, but the trees, even under a blanket of snow, came alive.  The Spirit of Earth shone brightly on the astral plane and it was that same trait that marked the Spirit of Fire, hanging back and biding its time.  Chante didn't sling lightning or fire so she didn't really have any direct tools to hurt it.  The ferocity of her earlier attack had been a sheer effort of will.

She'd have to pay George Shambling Bear a visit on her next trip back.  He'd need to lay the final enchantments on the tomahawks.  Had he already done so, she imagined the spirit would have been sent packing on a more permanent basis.

Ité's aura was dimmer, she could see the darkness in his brain where his machine had shorted.  Hopefully Dan could work his own brand of magic on the decker and save his life.  We owe it to him to get him back.  They reached the helicopter and the Spirit of Earth gently set the troll on the deck.  Task accomplished, it turned to Chante.

Guard us from the Spirit of Fire, but only if it attacks.  If it does not by the time we have reached our home then go freely with my gratitude.  The Spirit shifted as well, dematerializing from the world and becoming wholly Astral.  If it was do to battle with a Spirit, there was no need for physical form.  It placed itself between the helicopter and the Fire Spirit and waited.

<@Team: Let's get out of here.  I've got a Spirit watching our six in case that fire fellow tries anything.  Ité is looking bad, we'll need to radio in, I don't think Dan is going to be able to bring him all the way around, least not before we get home.>>  She moved away from Ité to give the medic room to work, leaning against the bulkhead and feeling suddenly weary, as the adrenaline rush began to ebb.
That's just like... your opinion, man.

MDMann

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« Reply #103 on: (05:35:37/06-22-17) »
Dan finally settled into the chopper for the ride home. Of course he had no prospect of rest at all. As medic a good mission was one where he had nothing to do. This was, middling.

Priorities. Items was quiet whilst Swoopy was screaming profanities down the mic (or muttering them under his breath, he might have set the gain wrong) whilst Ite was quiet. Items it was then. Besides, Swoopy was still making his way up anyway.

The earth elemental had shuffled off to the astral and the cat seemed to have gone ... somewhere.

"Hey, Captain! Give me a hand clamping Ite's head will you? Thanks"

Dan-Dan hot to work strapping the troll down, taking the captains assistance as given. He wasn't too bothered about his body which was just laid in a cleared space on the floor. There was some harness for some vehicle they could vandalise to their use. Crucial was securing the head and especially the neck still. Dan put it in a vice, some sort of clamp for that same vehicle, padded with more of the harness.

It had been about 3 minutes or so since the haemorrhage. You had around an hour for a good prognosis following treatment normally and reasonable expectations within four hours. If it weren't for the clopidogrel the auto doc had flooded his systems with, Ite's chances would have been excellent. As it was, Dan would do what he could.

"Just keep his head still, he might wriggle some."

Dan-Dan looked through the astral, carefully moving his fingers over Ite's scalp. He looked over the readings from his own (much better and augmented) Medi kit to confirm,  but really he was looking for where the bleed originated. There! An intracerebral haemorrhage! He glanced up, the captain was looking through the astral at his fingers. He wasn't doing anything, just exploring. Voyeuristic, interested or fascinated it was academic really. He gingerly placed his knife point down over the spot, predictably close to Ite's headware....

CRACK! Dancer slammed down with a nearby spanner on the base of the knife with all his strength, lifting off the floor with effort. It was a troll after all. Ite spasmed wildly. Arcs of blood spurted out of the small hole under great pressure. Ah! Dan wiped his eyes where a smear of blood had hit him.

"Captain, if I could have my bag please, I need to wipe up before I continue. Captain?"

Dan-Dan looked up. The captain was frozen rigid. And drenched in blood, where Ite's arterial spurt had struck her full in the face. She was dripping blood.

"Never mind, I'll get it. You can release his head now."

He dabbed his eyes with wipes and resterilised his hands reaching for the tweezers. So far, so good...

Dan started whistling. A little off key.
« Last Edit: (05:45:20/06-22-17) by MDMann »

rednblack

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« Reply #104 on: (13:16:06/06-22-17) »
His Predator outstretched before him, Shiriki held his position until he could see Chante approaching the chopper through his PI-TAC.  With the wireless off in the Dragon, Shiriki leaned over and opened the cargo hold with his free hand, still waiting for the spirit of fire to make its appearance any moment.  In quick succession, Chante, the earth spirit carrying  Ité, and the rest of the team filtered in, and Shiriki spun in his seat and holstered his side arm.

<@Team: Let's get out of here.  I've got a Spirit watching our six in case that fire fellow tries anything.  Ité is looking bad, we'll need to radio in, I don't think Dan is going to be able to bring him all the way around, least not before we get home.>>  She moved away from Ité to give the medic room to work, leaning against the bulkhead and feeling suddenly weary, as the adrenaline rush began to ebb.

It was all Shiriki needed to hear.  He plugged in the universal adapter into his head, and went limp.

<<@Team [Shiriki] Strap in, shut up, and hold on.>>

For the moment, Ité would have to take the backseat to the rest of the team, and the Dragon screamed skyward, buffeted by the winds of the blizzard.  Shiriki tore off toward the sweet lands of home, and left the team's medic to the grisly work of keeping Ité stable during the transport home.

<<@HQ [Anonymous] This is XL213 inbound to the Sioux border.  Be advised we are a UCAS Dragon, call sign U571332.>>

<<@Anonymous [HQ] Roger that, XL213.  You are clear to enter Sioux airspace.>>


Despite the speeds, Shiriki is able to keep the Dragon fairly stable as he tears across the thin strip of land that separates them from home.

<<@Team [Shiriki] Fuel's looking low.  Swoopy, can you check on our parachute situation?>>
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