Futuristic ℋ℮їґṧ: SIGMA (Sci-Fi/Powers/Interstellar Warfare RP)

[Trappy]

Daelen

We picked up the ladies, and went for a not-so-smooth ride towards the damaged Smierc flagship, as the Commander ordered. A swarm of New Union and ally dropships accompanied us. We all rushed our way towards that hole on the flagship, as crystal rounds fired from the point-defence systems went all over us. The cargo shuttle we were on was now a rusty piece of Swiss cheese, crystal rounds having punctured the hull, fragmentation leaving scorch marks here and there. Riding this holed-bucket towards waves of point-defence fire was indeed a terrible idea. We probably looked like some mad, suicidal bastards. The hell with it, not that we had any alternative, so we gave it our best shot.

"Brace yourself lads. This ride ain't going to be dandy." I said over comms.

Our pilot was indeed skilled. A sick, old man he might be, but he was pretty darn amazing at piloting this thing. After picking up Miller and Kathy, the old man did a quick steer and we narrowly dodged some artillery shells. They exploded right behind us, shaking the shuttle and sending debris everywhere. Then he fired up the sub-light thrusters and we joined the first wave of the dropships, blasting our way towards the damaged flagship. Crystal rounds bouncing off the armour plates of the ships and artillery shells exploded right next to us, vibrating the entire ship with debris and shock. We were closing in, fast. More point-defence fires aimed at us, and the armour plates wouldn't last long. The shells fell short. The leading dropship was hit dead on by an artillery shell and ignited.

Eight souls on a bucket full of holes. It seemed as if our luck had ran out, as the one remaining engine suddenly died and we were left floating in space. Target practice for Smierc point-defence. We had to do something. Without saying a word, Danielle and Johny hopped out of the opened door, while Joachim bursted from his straps to stop them. The boys then used their boosters to push us from the outside. Damn straight, gotta hand it to the Corporals to save our arses sometimes. I jumped from my seat and rushed into the cockpit. Joachim understood what I was about to do. He stumbled towards the opened door in his magnetic boots, pulled the bolt of his MG and started spraying at the nearby point-defence turrets. His efforts actually worked out, as he successfully disabled two turrets. Ingenious.

I bursted into the cockpit, ignoring the panicked, surprised look of the old man. I got into the co-pilot seat and started doing magic. With the remaining engine and our boys' push outside, we actually got somewhere, just not as fast, and we strayed from our destination. We were going to crash on the battleship's hull, about 50m from the hole. At least we didn't sit still and wait for death to arrive, good enough for me.

Just as we were going to crash on the hull, there was a deafening yell on the comms. John was hit by some shrapnel or debris. The man's life signal didn't die out, it appeared he was only knocked out. Danielle yelled and detached, going to recover Johnny.

The punctured shuttle crashed onto the hull of the battleship, close to the hole created by some missiles. Probably due to the extensive damage of the explosion, the hull collapsed, and our shuttle went straight into the hangar, crushing a good number of Smierc during the process.

 

[Perambulation]

Adrian

Our dropship slipped into the newly opened hole in the Smierc's flagship's hangar. The landing was a bit rough, as expected of a combat drop, but our Fireteam still manages to run out the landing ramp and get into a defensible position. According to the preliminary briefing files, the Smierc ships utilizes a form of energy taken directly from hyperspace, giving these ships an unlimited and much more powerful source of energy, at least compared to the nuclear fusion generators that ships of the Sigma Sector utilize.

"DUCK!", yelled Sergeant Amis.

A stray enemy grenade had landed nearby our position, and forced our Fireteam to take a bit of a hit on our IRESS. Even so, I managed to provide some cover fire for the Fireteam using my HoloRifle. Once in a good position, our Recon Trooper quickly fired some pot shots towards the Mortus Troopers snuggled in some cover. For a newcomer, the Recon Trooper still got some sick shots.

"This is Captain Morrison of Fireteam Nexus, reporting in. We're heading towards the enemy hyperspace-derived generator to plant the initial explosive charges. Will appreciate any and all help in the endeavor, over."

 

[Perambulation]

(bump)

 

[Trappy]

(bump)
LoneSniper87
Henrypika
Pequeno Burraidh
An Khang
@Drippi the gunsmith

 

[LoneSniper87]

(Was gonna wait for someone else to make first move, but give me a sec then.)

 

[Henrypika]

Katherine

"Lads?" I repeated, slightly annoyed by the lack of acknowledgment.

---

The smell of blood or some sort of Smierc bodily fluids cut through the thin air of the hangar putting my bandana over my mouth after lighting my magazine aflame, peeking my head outside of the small hole in the hull, and firing my rifle from the shuttle screams and bursts of heat for every shot fired, whipping my rifle around towards the hangar door to shoot a Mortus behind a recon. The wannabe assassin fell backwards with a gaping hole in its abdomen, fluids and organs spilling out as though it had been mauled.

"You know, I was hoping for 'no allied casualties,' but at least we didn't lose the whole dropship 'squadron'..." I muttered, annoyed that the 'local militia' wasn't able to take out the point-defenses.

A familiar voice cut through the fuzzy chatter of the channel. "This is Captain Morrison of Fireteam Nexus, reporting in. We're heading towards the enemy hyperspace-derived generator to plant the initial explosive charges. Will appreciate any and all help in the endeavor, over."

I brushed aside that thought and started responding to my missed messages, "Got that Morrison. Providing cover fire, but watch your back and keep your eyes peeled, just in case." Hyperspace-derived? That's a first for me.

There was also an unidentified person on the local communications. Though he didn't say anything, he just pinged, and that's it. "Anyone know this guy? He's not on any of our databases. That or I'm not searching hard enough."

 

[LoneSniper87]

"Right here!" I responded, hopping off the transport mid-crash, whipping out my rifle and popping off a mag in rapid succession. A few missed, but some hit and killed, but all the same I thought I looked like some movie heroine as I rolled and quickly ran to Katherine. I saw Katherine put up a mask and wondered why, then I depressurized my suit, the smell hitting me instantly. I gagged a bit and put up the mask of my own. I had half an hour left on the tank, and would rather deal with the smell rather than oxygen deprevation.

I reloaded as Morrison spoke, and gave a slight nod. I saw two type AB's next to me, and I quickly checked both, seeing thier mags still full. I picked up both, slinging my rifle of my shoulder, then popped up and started squeezing off shots at any Mortus in sight, a shot going into each, maybe only half dying on contact. I then dropped both guns as they were empty and responded. "We'll be over as soon as we clear the hangar, Morrison. Like Katherine said, stay on your toes, and good luck." I told him.

 

[Kabboom]

Joachim

The torn moon shimmers down, its sparkling reflections illuminating the frozen tundra. This was a quiet night, aside from the relentless gusts of wind and the sound of distant avalanches, forming and fading seamlessly on this ice cube of a planet. We're assigned to this border outpost, tasked with "perimeter guard". Hell, the only thing out here worth guarding is the heater. But hey, the Smierc could come at any moment, and even though I resent the weather, I still stand guard.

Well, it's not completely that bad. No Smierc activity has been reported even near this system, so we've loosened our watch. Washington's rested his rifle, and is now settling for a poker game on a storage crate, lit with a small candle, shielded from the cold winds with nothing more than a makeshift wall of canteens and rations. Judging from the facial expressions, Livingsdale is on a roll, and Carolina, the lively girl from Portus, is getting absolute crap cards. I can't read Washington, though. His poker face is too good.

Our Fireteam leader, Captain Butch, stands ever so vigilantly, with a binocular in his hands, his rifle perched against his leg. Company regulation strictly forbids poker, as does every other Company, but he turns a blind eye to our harmless games. He's a good leader. Cares about his men. Next to him, is our marksman, the crack shot from Vaccaro, "Farmboy" Lennard. Our Fireteam machine gunner, Sergeant Lopez, who insists that everyone just call him "Sarge", sits with his machine gun deployed on some cover, as he struggles, with the aid of his flashlight, to draw some sketches on his old book. We have more advanced stuff now, but he insists on sticking to the old things, or as he calls them, "the good stuff".

I was his ammo carrier. Picked the lightest rifle on offer, didn't even bother checking its name, so that I could carry more ammo. The Captain and other officers constantly berate me for not doing maintenance on that thing frequently enough. But Allison has that covered for me. She was always nice to have around. I don't think she knows yet, but she always had this look on her face as if she already found out. Must be one of the guys. Washington, probably. He was always a shifty bastard. Or maybe Lennard. They hang with each other, since they're both marksmen, it wouldn't be that far fetched.

She came up to me, her position taken over by Carolina after she rage-quit from the poker game, with Washington and Livingsdale laughing out of control. It feels like she talks to me more than anyone else, though it might be just me.

- Hey, Joachim. How you doing?
- I'm fine. A bit cold though.
- Huh. Me too. Hey, can't you do that... that fire thing? To keep yourself warm?
- I generally don't do that. It takes too much energy, and frankly, the heater works just fine.
- Got it.

We kind of paused for a while. We had talked so much, our exchanges are kept down to brief back-and-forth chat, and the weather tonight was not a suitable one for sustained conversation. I could see her dark blue eyes, blinking rapidly, darting back and forth between the clumps of snow on her visor. She finally turned to the plains before us, her eyes fixated on the glistening ice reflections. She had a moody vibe with her tonight, unlike other times. She was sort of a happy-go-lucky girl. I think.

- It's really beautiful tonight, J.
- Yeah. Never seen this before.
- Me too. Makes me think of home.
- You got a lot of snow back home, Al?
- I "got a lot" of beautiful moonlight back home, J. And don't call me Al again. It's a ridiculous nickname.
- Ridiculous nickname. Suits the ridiculous girl.
- Pffft, says the man who could summon fire.
- Oh, you're just envy of my Silentian genes.

She turned to me, her moody vibes replaced with soft laughter. I could see Carolina eyeballing us in the corner of my eyes. Allison's completely oblivious to it, but the Portus girl always seemed so giddy whenever she spoke to me. It figures. Washington told her about us.

Allison looked into my eyes, as I looked back into hers. We were chuckling a bit before, but our laughter quickly subsided. The wind was the only audible thing in the outpost now, as everyone had gone quiet. Or, the excitement has blocked out my ears. Either way, I was getting a bit, anxious. I finally spoke up.

"Hey, Allison, I've been wondering-" my words were cut short, as her eyes suddenly broke contact, and darted to... something on her right. On the plains. Her facial expression changed suddenly, from amusement, to curiosity, to shock. As she hurriedly grabbed her rifle, I turned around quickly, to see a few figures, over a nearby snow hill, motioning each other, one holding a big... gun.

I immediately reached for my rifle, as everyone sprang into action. Some saw the same thing we did, some doing so purely because everyone else is doing it. Washington threw down his cards and reached for his rifle with a confused look, as did Livingsdale. Sarge hastily shoved his book into his front pocket, as his right hand reached for his machine gun. Farmboy rushed the Captain to cover.

She yelled it out first, followed closely by Sarge.

- RPG!!
- COVER!!

I ducked, before a loud bang went off, followed by a split second of propellants burning, before a deafening explosion went off next to my ears, and knocked me out with the shock wave.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I woke up, rising my face up from the Smierc hangar floor, scrape marks dominating the left side of my HUD, with my Focus Crystals sprawled around me, shattered into many pieces. I got up slowly, as a sickening stench flooded into my nasal cavity, making me cringe. I know this smell, from Yabrao. Looks like we hit something on our way down again.

I glanced, to the hole that we just barged through, and spotted a big blocky shadow come closer. And closer. And closer. Oh, it's one of ours. Oh shit, it's one of ours! I dodged backwards, out of the way of the charging dropship, as it crushed the hangar floor, scraping all the way, before meeting a fiery demise, as it collided with a damaged Smierc fighter jet undergoing field repairs, at the other end of the hangar. Some troopers were flung out of the ship during the touchdown, so it wasn't a complete loss of troops.

My ears were ringing intensively at this point. Some broadcasts were being made, but I can't make them out. I spot my machine gun, badly damaged, but still usable, a good distance from me. I also spotted that I wasn't in any kind of cover. I kinda got flung out during the crash-land. Whoops.

I grabbed my gun, and retreated back to the crashed shuttle, as the small amounts of IRESS that had been regenerated did its job inbetween, shrugging off the few crystal bolts that actually connected with me. I leaned against the cockpit, and clambered in through the shattered glass. The old pilot was badly wounded, but Carlison was patching him up right now. I entered the hull, and asked Katherine for a situation report, as she fires through the hole in the hull.

"What's our current situation, Allis- Uh, Katherine?" I stumbled my words. Wait, why did I say that name?

 

[Henrypika]

Katherine

I pull my head back from the hole to stand up and fire up my second to last mag that I brought from the ship, using it to slide off the expended mag where it later disappeared and then reappeared in my mag holder, while tilting my head in question to who this 'Allis' was. Joachim's crush? That might be something to ask of later.

"Captain Morrison is requesting support as he makes his way to the enemy generator. Hyperspace-derived, it seems."

The smell of blood was giving me a urge to get up close and personal, but I knew better than to let instincts rule my judgement. Or whatever it was.

 

[Kabboom]

(bump)
Pequeno Burraidh
Henrypika
LoneSniper87
Perambulation
@Drippi the gunsmith

 

[LoneSniper87]

(I'm wating for one of the others.)

 

[Kabboom]

(Fair enough, it's not my turn to post yet. Gotta wait for my friend.)

 

[Perambulation]

(Sorry for the late posts, as I just had prom on Thursday and chilled on Friday. Should be back to regular posting now, and be posting even more during the summer before college)

Adrian

Acknowledged by Corporal Katherine over the comms, and presumably the other Sabre Corps and Twisted Wolves operatives on the frequency, I fired off a burst from my HoloRifle to start advancing towards the enemy's hallway. The structure of a Smierc Collective ship is much different from a normal human ship, as their designs tend to focus much more on verticality rather than the longer, more horizontal-oriented New Union ships. Even so, there are shared design features, and a hallway is one of them.

Breathing in slowly, I focused my mind towards a large cluster of debris from the earlier missile attack on the enemy's hangar. Using my Silentian powers, I activated my Mass Tornado ability, creating a whirlwind of deadly objects that also shocks the Mortus Troopers nearby. It allowed an opening to the nearest hallway entrance, and I yelled at Fireteam Nexus to run for it.

Using the Booster Pack of the KAISYS armor, Fireteam Nexus sprints towards the hallway door, firing off controlled bursts from our weapons to keep any nearby Mortus Troopers at bay.

"Fireteam Nexus is heading into the Smierc Collective's hallway, heading directly to their flagship's hyperspace generator. If you're going to help us plant the charges, get over here quick, over!"

 

[Perambulation]

(bump)

Pequeno Burraidh
Henrypika
LoneSniper87
Kabboom
@Drippi the gunsmith
Trappy

 

[Perambulation]

(bump)

Pequeno Burraidh
Henrypika
LoneSniper87
Kabboom
@Drippi the gunsmith
Trappy

 

[Trappy]

Daelen

I opened my eyes, to see the messed up control panels of the shuttle, the zapping of broken machinery, and crystal bolts firing at us from Smierc troopers. Crystal bolts. Swiftly, I swung out my machine gun and started firing in bursts down a corner of the hangar, where the Smierc appeared to have organised to launch an attack, in an attempt to take back their hangar. My bursts dropped a decent handful of them, before I had to duck to fix a jam on my weapon. Jams didn't occur very often, but since I modified the Dzida to accept the crystal rounds handcrafted in the black markets, it messed up the original mechanism of the gun, and so issues happened, sometimes.

Even in the dim light of the shuttle's interior, I could spot my mates, and the ladies. Unfortunately, the old pilot got messed up. The crash severely injured the old man, blood was dripping nonstop from his hip. I yelled at the top of my lungs.

"CARLEY! GET THE MEDKIT!"

The young man jumped from his seat, quickly grabbed the medkit and rushed into the cockpit. His eyes switched between me and the old man, confused looks on his tired face.

"For the pilot, goddamn it!" - I called out, and the Corporal quickly crouched to look at the old pilot's wounds. A yellow coloured crystal shard suddenly flung out from the Dzida. The jam was fixed. I rose again and fired at the Smierc, but they kept coming. We were already landing troops inside the Smierc flagship, but it seemed half the dropships sent here were destroyed mid-flight by the ship's point-defence and artillery.

Suddenly, someone bursted into the shuttle's hull, startling its occupant. I swung out my revolver with my left hand, aiming it down the cargo bay. It was my friend, Joachim. Hell, he made it. Then there was some exchange of information and chit-chat, but I didn't pay attention. Crystal bolts were still being fired at us. Crap, screw it. A sitting duck is a dead one.

"Move! Move! MOVE! We're going to push the bastards outta here!" - I yelled at my squad-mates, startling them. "Fuckers won't stop comin'! Carley will stay with the old man. We'll try to push the Smierc scum out with the other Fireteams currently present. Let's go!" - Now, I was fully aware that I was not the captain, but since my mate Joachim wasn't saying anything, and I feared he was not going to say anything in time. "Also Kath, tell your people to have their ships targetin' this thing's point-defences. The turrets are keeping our dropships from landing more men!"

 

[Henrypika]

Katherine

On Daelen's orders I swapped comm channels, "Folks in the air, in case anyone's eavesdropping has failed them," I said, letting that one hang in the air for a moment or two, snickering on the other end of the receiver, "we need some help taking down their AAs and point defenses to allow more transports to drop in."

A salvo of crystal bolts crashed through the shuttle's hull, but in tiny fragments, almost to a powder. I returned fire, hearing that familiar screech as several Smierc were set on fire by the blast, and the main target's head was blown to charred pieces of flesh, the body falling lifelessly to the hangar floor.

Another Smierc seemingly came out of nowhere, punching me in the stomach, and then going for his pistol to end me. He fired as I ducked to grab my katana, narrowly missing my head, and then again before I swung upward in a dual hand clutch, the slash entering his leg with ease before following up through his abdominal and then ripping through and out of his shoulder. The two pieces of his body collapsed on the floor without a sound, organs falling out.

"Not my best day." I rummaged through the dead Smierc's pockets, plucking out a few magazines, probably for his rifle, and a translucent yellow knife. I tossed my empty magazines to the floor, disappearing, shoving the new mags into the ammo holders, and propped the rifle in one of the gaping holes in the hull and continued firing.

 

[LoneSniper87]

"What do you mean? It's never anyone's best day." I said to Katherine as I finished off another Smierc, quickly rebolting the gun. "We helping Nexus with thier hyperspace generator or do we have our own agenda?" I asked, glancing at her once before looking back to see a Beserker charge me with Armblade ready, and I narrowly pushed the blade away, falling down next to it. I quickly ripped my knife from the sheath and stabbed the Smierc in the back of the head, breathing heavily out of fear. "We should hurry up and go if we are, or at least group up with the others." I said, then took another deep breath before standing and taking the knife.

 

[Kabboom]

Joachim

My friend made sense. The ship was a death trap, since the hull can be penetrated by crystal bolts. They are rushing us, as evident by the Smierc troopers that Katherine and Miller just dealt with in hand-to-hand combat. I peek out of cover, to catch a brief glimpse of a bunch of Mortus troopers taking cover behind an overturned ship hull. 3 marksmen, putting deadly accurate fire downrange, picking off our men like flies, along with 2 Berserkers, who are using their machine guns to either pierce the hull of incoming dropships, killing most of the inhabitants before they even get out, or to funnel our forces into kill zones, where the snipers get to work.

That will not do for me. I load a fresh magazine into my LMG, making sure that it's full, just as Danny and John walked up to us. Well, not exactly walk, John was limping, and Danny was carrying him. Poor boy took quite a hit. I helped Danny put John down, propping him against the hull, not before grabbing another armor plate and putting it against the piece of hull, just in case anything penetrates. "Danny, you're with me. We're taking that bunch out." I said to him out loud, since he still has an IRESS left. I also began talking to everyone else, giving them my game plan.

"We'll help Nexus, but we can't do it if there are still Smierc forces in the hangar. We smash through 'em, then we can help Morrison with the charges. I answered Miller's question. I turn to Katherine, who has resumed firing. "Kath, you stay here, give us support fire. Carli, you stay here, fix up the pilot and then Johny. Miller, you can follow Dav. We're going for a double flank. Let's move!"

I peeked out, fired off a suppressing burst at the bunch, along with a wide sweep of the entire enemy side of the hangar, as Danny hauls ass to my left, practically falling into cover, as he tucks himself against a broken piece of a dropship's wing, with crystal bolts plinking off it.

 

[Pequeno Burraidh]

(Working on getting back into the swing of things, struggling due to some internet connectivity issues. If you give me til sunday I should be able to get it sorted out, and can always come back with a valid in story reason for being MIA)

 

[Perambulation]

DM

The Commander continued to oversee the massive battle for New Krona from the NUSS Artemis III's shielded command bridge. As with most combat naval vessels, there is a standard, more exposed bridge for normal cruises, while a shielded, built-in combat bridge was used for combat situations. Commander Perez intercepted a few comms from the Sabre Corps operatives inside the enemy ship regarding the enemy's AA turrets.

"Let's get those drones to focus on the AA fire. We need to land in more Marines in order to help with overwhelming the enemy flagship!"

At that command, the NUSS Artemis and the two other New Union Navy ships in the Scouting Fleet directed their AI-controlled drone fighters to the Smierc's AA turrets. The drones absolutely swarmed to the AA turrets, not caring if they were destroyed as long as their brethren could land more shots on the turrets.

With that said, the Scouting Fleet's human-piloted attack ships and fighters are still awaiting orders to deploy, as the AA fire is still too thick for them to be of any effect.


Adrian

Knowing that our fellow soldiers are going to have a difficult time to get to our position with the Mortus Troopers in the way, I decided to take Fireteam Nexus straight to the enemy generator. We need to at least establish a foothold in the generator room so that the others can make the journey with a bit of ease.

"Captain, incoming enemy troops on your 12 o'clock. Mortus Troopers, of the Knight variety, to be exact.", reported my AI, Noa.

The HUD lit up with enemy signatures, as I threw down some heavy 40 mm holo-grenades using my own Mk.16 Grenade Launcher. There were underbarrel versions as well, but I think the stand-alone version performs the best on the field. Can't rely too much on weapon attachments anyways.

The enemy Knights continued to lay down some heavy suppressive fire, as I mustered up the focus to deploy my own Silentian ability.

 

[Perambulation]

(bump)

 

[Kabboom]

(I'm waiting for the rest to post their reactions to mine, if that makes sense)

 

[Perambulation]

Kabboom

(Roger that)

 

[Henrypika]

Katherine

"True." I replied to Ashley, maneuvering my rifle to point at an enemy sniper before pressing the trigger, sending the area into flames, "I can handle this, just go on and support Nexus." I run outside to an intact low barricade, like the ones you would use to keep people out of a certain area, crouching to keep from getting hit by bolts.

After finishing a reload with a crystal magazine, I shove the mag into the receiver and swing it over, so the gap between my grip and the receiver is filled by the barricade, forming a tripod. I rest my left hand in the hollow part of the butt stock to stabilize it for recoil as I pressed the trigger, nearly instantaneously blowing out my target's brains.

A series of muffled explosions rocked the hangar while alarms also went off somewhere in the ship. Somewhere in the inbound radio chatter, someone yelled, "AA down!" and another fella screaming before the display lens said he 'disconnected'. Not a good sign.