Futuristic ParaCom: Adversary Uncertain

[DerUbermensch]

Operation Dawn's Grave, February 28h, 2022:


It has been months since ParaCom was founded. So far they have given humanity some breathing room. Nevertheless, the organized force did well in giving mankind another chance. This time, it's make it or break it.


Before the mission, Main Officer Arnold Bradley (code named Center) got used to commanding a multinational team and was detecting a dragon carrying a landing party. Anxious, he authorized a few jet fighters to take it down. Armed with fire and forget AMRAAM missiles, the jet fighters equipped were the F-35 Lightning II donated from the United States Air Force. However, despite being stealth and multi-role, the dragon had a sense of smell and sight that rendered any sneaky approach moot.


Two jets were in the process of being launched. Now Center was just waiting for the jets to report, receiving live signals. "Locked and loaded! Engaging the bogey!" Drumming his fingers, he wished the best for the two pilots.


One hour later: "Bogey is down! I repeat! BOGEY! IS! DOWN! Out."


Center then used satellite imagery to zoom into the body. Strangely, the dragon was still in one piece. "Operatives, we got a crash landing. Strike team A report to the Little Lady on the double!"


The Little Lady was in the hangar, a ship able to fit up to sixteen operatives. There was a chance of paranormal entities about. It was best to bring at least four.

 

[Splat]

The Little Lady, huh?





The ship was one of Chade's most prized creations. . . It has been on at least eight successful runs, and had started looking a little banged up, so recently he has been setting up blue prints for an upgrade.


Beer in hand, Chade jumps into the pilot seat and press down onto the intercom button.


"We leave in five. Any gear you would need is already on board. Our enemy is a dragon-class paranormal, approx. 50 meter wing span, with a 78 meter body length from his head to the tip of his tail."


Chade hated dragons. An approx. 150 meter long dragon-class is what caused the explosion that took his daughter. Hatred for the beast flowed through his veins, raising his adrenaline to new heights. He was ready, and this monster was going to pay, even if he wasn't the dragon that took his daughter.


"Three minutes left, ladies."


He took a large gulp of beer, finished off his can, and crushed it. A drunken smile spreading about his face.

 

[Derpestein]

Timothy came out from the locker room with a helmet strapped to his head and body armor on his chest. Against paranormal weaponry, it was probably useless, but he believed otherwise. Better Safe than sorry. Jogging out of the room with an assault rifle held close to his chest, he made his trek towards the little lady.


There was a medpac put on his belt, filled with some supplies for emergency surgery alongside the prototype healing mist. He didn't understand how it worked, but he knew it involved spraying out some nano bots onto a wound and then hopefully having them heal it.


As the field medic got into the hanger, he looked at the Little Lady in appreciation of its design. Stepping inside the ship itself, Chade drew Timothy's attention. Especially the crushed beer can.


"...Sir? Are you sure you should be piloting this thing? You've been drinking..." He asked, nervously.

 

[Splat]

Reaching into his pack and pulling out another beer, Chade barely acknowledges the man coming on board.


"I fly better with a buzz." He finishes off his statement with a large gulp of beer.


He swirls his chair around, coming back over the intercom.


"Two minutes until departure." Releasing the button mid sigh, he sank back into his chair. His fingers went to his temples and began massaging them, trying to push out the memories he wish to drown out with alcohol.


This dragon better be good for some entertainment. It's been a while since my last good kill. I want the Little Lady's last mission to go out with a bang. . . Or two.

 

[DerUbermensch]

A well-muscled and tall Russian woman packing heavy armor stormed across as soon as it was known that heavy duty was needed. "Lieutenant Ivanova reporting." She was gruff and tough in mannerisms and appearance. Man-like may be her presentation, but that was a result of Spetsnaz training.


She was equipped with grenades, a handheld Gatling gun, and a rocket launcer. Explosives and heavy weapons were familiar to her like her mother tongue. Being Russian makes one strong.

 

[KaldorDraigo]

The soft footsteps coming up the ramp signaled the arrival of yet anther squad member. Slightly on the short side, slender and with a hint of stubble on his face. He moved easily with a confidence gait, every movement fluid, not a single muscle wasted as he strode up the ramp and slid down into a jumpseat across Ivanova. "Lieutenant Leon reporting to Strike 1." His presence was announce simply, giving each fellow soldier a nod.


Leon cradled his weapon of choice in his hands, dual action sniper rifle. His side arm strapped trustily to his side, the half-japanese also equipped an enhanced scope and battle-scanner. "Lieutenant Ivanova." Lee greeted the gruff woman, having spoken with her a few times over the pat couple days. "Chade, you really should lay off the beer. You'll end up with a belly that even lil'lady won't be able to carry."

 

[Splat]

"This is the last time the Little Lady will ever have to carry anything." As he spoke, he compensated for his drunken slur by over articulating his speech.


"She's due for replacement, and I've already drawn up plans for a new, bigger, better, more powerful Little Lady." He finished off another can and chased it down with a 2 Liter bottle of water, throwing a pill in after it.


Reaching into a small compartment under the control panel, he pulled out a sandwich and took a massive bite.


He barely managed to swallow before speaking again. "It's time to leave." Chade repeated his words over the intercom, shaking his head as the pill, water, and food he'd taken began to force his BAC down to non-intoxicated levels.


Damn pill brings on a hang over like you'd been drinking for two days straight, but I can't very well launch into this mission drowning in booze...

 

[ARSENIC]

"'Suppose ye'd have to call'er the Fat Lady instead, n?" came a loud, thickly-accented voice as strong, firm steps made their way to the ramp just behind Leon , giving the American a good-hearted slap on the shoulder. "'Salright, tho, Chade. Leon's a good fookin' coont, 'es nae gonna spread any whispers 'bout you bein' a chubby chasin' wire-fooker. Innit, Leon?" he said with a raspy, alcoholic laugh, clearly very pleased with himself. But then, of course, it was common knowledge that Special Agent O'Connely was always drunk. Always.


With nary a moment's notice Roderick knelt forward just deep enough to tighten an arm around the knees of both Chade and Leon, hoisting the two lightweights (well, relatively lightweight in Chade's case) effortlessly to sit on either shoulder as he continued to march up the ramp. "Now, let's get some bloody excitement in here. Toss me some dice and spin me a song, cause we're off to kill a fookin' dragon!"

 

[Derpestein]

Timothy groaned at the cast of characters coming into the ship. Checking his assault rifle (for really no reason besides anxiousness), the medic glared at the soldiers going up the ramp. "Took you long enough." He muttered under his breath.


Once everyone had seated themselves down, he considered striking up conversation with one of them. But holy shit were they scary. Sure, they'd all seen eachother occasionally in the paracom base and went into a mission together once or twice, but still. RODERICK HAD A FUCKING ROBOT ARM.





"I wonder what things are gonna be guarding the dragon."

 

[KaldorDraigo]

Leon gave O'Connely a good natured grin. While the Scotsman was loud mouthed, rowdy and almost never completely sober, his character brought a sort of liveliness to the the group. Otherwise with the grim-natured pilot and the strong, silent Ivanova... Their squad would feel like a funeral procession. Too much damned negativity. "I don't even know what a," The sniper paused, trying to imitate O'Connely's deep drawl. His cultured, educated tone didn't do the accent justice. " 'chubby chasin' wire-fooker' even is, Roderick. But I'm assuming it's nothing pleasant?"


When the youngest soldier spoke, the lieutenant turned to Timothy, giving the newest member a cheery grin. "Relax, kid. Keep your head down and your wits about you, you'll get home just fine. Your first dragon?" The question implying it wasn't Leon's first tumble with the mythical creature.

 

[Derpestein]

Timothy looked at Leon with a bemused look. "In my entire life, I've never thought I'd be asked that question," He said with a nod, "but yeah, this is my first dragon. In my career." 'Of fighting scary mythical monsters that could eat me in a gulp.'


The medic shuddered.


"What about you, uh..." Timothy thought for a moment, "Leon, right?"

 

[DerUbermensch]

Alina merely expressed, "Let's go. Get the show on the road. Good news that it's a crash, not landing." It was a full house. She was getting impatient because the dragon might be nursed back to health.


If that does happen, the satellite will be shot down. Alina just rolled her eyes on the concerns of alcohol. "I'm Russian. Drunks are normal to us. Besides, beer is weak and light. To the point when I was a girl, it was the same as a soda."

 

[KaldorDraigo]

Leon let out a soft chuckle at the medic's reply. "Join the club, friend. And no, I've had a few before.... Just usually with a platoon of infantry and a tank or two for support." He rubbed his stubbled chin thoughtfully, though nodding at Timothy's last question. "Yep. Lieutenant Leon Takeshi at your service. Though don't bother with the sir, and call me Lee."


At Alina's curt response, typical of the Russian as the Lieutenant had discovered, he merely smiled. "I'll take care not to get into a drinking competition with either of you then."


Glancing down the still empty rampway, he raised an eyebrow. "Chade, the world's ending and time-a-wasting."

 

[ARSENIC]

Roderick let out a raspy scoff. "Fook beer, mate. Gie me real, Scottish whiskey or gie me naethin'." he retorted, chuckling as Timothy mentioned his inexperience. "Oh, 'snaethin' t' worry for, once ye get past the razor-sharp claws, armored hide, an' tree-thusand degree breath." he explained, smiling as he ruffled Timothy's hair - rather more forcefully than the boy probably expected. He was lucky Roderick didn't do so with his mechanical arm. That would have been messy.

 

[Splat]

Too much damned noise. Maybe I shouldn't have had those drinks, after all...


Chade reached around, patting the drunk on the back and disengaged himself. Now that everyone was here there was no need for a mic, so instead he just turned around and yelled at the soldiers.


"Alright, when we get in the air the only talking you should be doing is through your earpieces. Too much noise, and we might run into some unfriendly faces on the way there."


He almost smiled at Thomas, recalling from a conversation he'd heard a few moments ago that reminded him this was his first biggie.


He put his headset on and faced back to his control panel, flipping a few switches and pressing a few buttons until the Little Lady roared to life, loud at first as her systems began starting up for the last time, then coming down to a near silent purr.


Under his breath, he patted the dashboard of the craft and spoke, "It's your last mission, girl. Have some fun." A little less subtly now, "Alright men, aaaand we're off."


He grabbed the piloting joystick and pulled it toward him while sliding a lever forward. The craft moved slowly at first, picking up speed after a time.


"Five seconds until we go super sonic. If you're not buckled in before we go, well, it's not my fault your death wasn't glorious. Maybe we'll be nice to your legacy and say the dragon did it."


Times like this in a mission were some of the very view that Chade could almost feel happy again. Maybe the wound was just too new to be completely mended, but he always knew it wouldn't ever be completely gone.

 

[Derpestein]

Timothy squirmed as his hair got ruffled by RODERICK (Aka the guy with the robot arm). Not fun. Once the man had let go, Timothy put on his helmet and strapped himself in with the seatbelt as the aircraft rose into the sky and off into...


"Where did it crash land again...?" He mumbled to himself, before he checked his weapons. The standard British Armed Forces SA80 Assault Rifle was in his hands and a Glock 17 was his sidearm. On the SA80, he noted, there was a bayonet strapped to the front.

 

[DerUbermensch]

Alina fasted her seat belt. "Shall we go now? It's a full house." The tough Russian woman was ready and armed to the teeth. Loaded for bear is an understatement for her.


This is damage control. If the control fails, then she's the damage. Alina was also quite familiar with paranormal entities. Especially during her time as Spetsnaz. The monsters needed to be slain. To be put down for the good of humanity.

 

[Darth Oats]

Eve


-


Eve's vision was blurred, the light from the automatics snapping on at 0500 on the dot. Just like every morning. A slight buzzing sound resonating from the fluorescent lighting could be heard through her vertical sleeping pod. She assumed, with ParaCom being an experimental project, the combined governments were chomping at the bit to test out new technologies. The only thing these pods did for her was make her even more grumpy than she used to be every morning, though. She rubbed her eyes fervently before forcing her eyelids open. Eve pressed the release in the center of the reinforced plexiglass that locked her in. As the pod door opened, Eve stepped out, lightly pressing her feet to the cold metal floor. She had gained a particularly fast wake up routine considering the pods were set to dump its occupant if the user was not up and out before its countdown ended. In mid-stretch and a heavy yawn, that very thing occurred just down the line. Someone must not have been deployed too recently. Living back on home soil makes you lazy and complacent Eve noted. The clattering noise they made as they grunted into the hard floor was slightly amusing to Eve, causing a small chuckle to escape her lips. Cold chills quickly sprinted across her body, so she departed. Moving to the locker with her full name and rank engraved into a silver plaque neatly set into the top. Or so she wished; in reality her last name had been hastily written onto a piece of tape and slapped on the door to her locker. She grabbed her towel and other bathroom items, then slowly stepped out into the hallway.


After taking a moment to pause and look both ways on the hall, Eve could already see the lines for the showers beginning to form. She turned and started towards them, seeing most of her fellow marines making their way to the same destination. She made her way in and set her bag of toiletries on the end of a bench, removing the body suit she had been sleeping in. Eve passed a couple of shower ports that were completely filled by both men and women. Finally, she finally found a less full stall near the end and turned on the water. The perfectly set warmth in the liquid woke her instantly, causing her to sigh in comfort. After washing for another few minutes and shaving her legs, she headed back out to the benches. The room was filled with a lovely steam and she grabbed her white towel to dry her body of the water that was left glistening on it. She then folded her towel neatly on her place on the bench and got dressed into her gray ParaCom fatigues. After getting dressed, Eve grabbed her bag before heading around the corner to the sinks and toilets. Eve stopped at the first sink to her right as it had become recently open, the dark skinned man previously standing there brushed right past her without a second thought. The soldier to her left nodded to Eve before shaving the short scruff of a beard that had been growing. He was only wearing a tank top, so she didn't have a name to match to the face. Eve glanced back to the mirror in front of her and examined her own face. The lines of an aging woman were beginning to set in. She was only in her late 20's, but she no longer held the vibrant look of youth in her grayish blue eyes. Her resting facial expression had become one of solemn contempt. She shrugged off the thoughts, then brushed her teeth and hair before heading back to her sleeping pod's section.


Once arriving, the platinum blonde Australian changed into her Combat BDU and boots, minus the armor plating of course. She only hoped she was getting deployed today. It had been far too long since she'd last seen any action. Since joining this force it'd been training exercise after training exercise. She was tired of being treated like a child. Her brunette neighbor on the wall, Connolly, spoke to her for the first time this morning, "It took ya' long enough girly..." Her slight, Canadian accent poked through. Connolly spoke with an indifferent tone, but Eve knew she was joking. The marine usually had something sarcastic to say. Eve shook her head as a sly smirk crossed her face before replying, "I'm going to get a light breakfast before I throw it all up in my deployment later today." Connolly nodded slightly before letting out a cackling laugh, once he realized what Eve had just said.


Now that she was fully dressed, Eve gave a quick wave as she tossed her bathroom essentials in her locker and walked out of the room, heading towards the DFAC. She collected a light meal: a banana, a bowl of oatmeal, and some scrambled egg whites. Eve then strode to a seat at a table with a few open spots. She set her tray and canteen down and basically flopped into her chair, it making a horrid screeching noise as she did so.


An announcement came over the intercom alerting everyone of the dragon that was shot down. Finally! Name would be called out for the ground team that would investigate. Eve crossed her fingers. "Ivanova. Takeshi. O'Connely. McNewell. Report to the hanger bay for deployment. Ivanova. Takeshi.O'Connely. McNewell. Report to the hanger bay for deployment." Eve slammed her fist on the table, the sound of a few others doing the same echoed in the eating area. "....Damnit."

 

[Splat]

Boom. There goes the sound barrier. Even now the craft continued to gain speed, racing toward its target. Nearly the size of a Northrop Guman B-2 Spirit (Stealth Bomber), sound emitted is 15% of what comes from a commercial air plane, with combat abilities increased by 387%. This was a flying war machine.


"Alright, lads. I've got orders from the higher ups that say we're to do our best to capture the beast. Lethal force is authorized, since anything less would have no effect. It should already be knocked out if not dead, so we shouldn't have much to do here. Fire breathing range is estimated to be around 50 meter. Again, that's if it's alive."


Chade cleared his throat and set the craft to auto-pilot. "Keep an eye out for Wyverns and the like. We shouldn't have much to worry about on the way there. Optimally, this will be a simple extraction mission. In the event everything goes smoothly, your jobs will be to guard the extraction team from whatever decides they don't want us getting our hands on a dragon."

 

[DerUbermensch]

Center radioed to the group. "We are to capture the dragon, though don't take any chances. Kill any paranormals in the area. Expect low resistance as it is a lesser dragon."


The Little Lady was landing upon the crash zone, with Center now acting as mission control. The objective was to clean up the mess and secure capture. Alina prepped her "nanogun" and was ready to leave, scanning the area. "Today the paranormals will feed the worms."

 

[Fletchr]

Falk lets out a dull sigh, running a hand across the back of his neck, as he steps within the confines of the Barracks - He swears quietly to himself, slamming a closed fist against his left knee. "Verdammt!", before reaching up towards his helmeted head - he unclasps the straps securing the object to his skull before peeling it off, following up by looping one of the aforementioned straps around his equipment-locker's helmet hook - and with that done he simply shifts into a nearby seat, his late arrival forcing him to wait for the time being.

 

[Splat]

Bringing the Little Lady down to hover about a meter off the ground, Chade jumped up from his seat and went into a locker with his name carved into it with a knife. Reaching inside, he picked up four drawstring back packs made out of kevlar, and tossed them to each of the team members.


"Alright lads, feel free not to use them, but I'd like you all to help me out with my prototypes. Inside the bags are the following items:" Pausing, he pulled a screen out from his own pack and brought up a simulator that gave a demonstration of each item's use as he listed them off. He laid out each individual item out in front of him, then picked up a small ball.


"This is an instant shield generator. Press the button and throw it to the ground, and it deploys a thick layer of goo to protect you. Good against fire breath." Moving over to two sets of clay bricks, or so it seemed, he picked them up in opposite hands. "Mix these two types of clay-like substances together and in thirty seconds the chemical reaction gives you a boom. Use it lightly. Just enough to cover the tip of your finger is all you should really need. It's the equivalent to two sticks of dynamite. Combine both bricks and the explosion will crater everything within a half kilometer." (Yes, it's sticky.) "Lastly, I've got an adrenaline pill. These aren't new, but I fiddled around with them a little bit to make them a little more effective while bringing the side effects down to a minimum. Be careful with them, still. You'll be pretty wiped after their use. Estimated time of effectiveness is six minutes. Good luck soldiers, I've got you covered from the air."

 

[DerUbermensch]

"Acknowledged. Let me scout the area of operations out. Possible opportunities." The group landed in a rural area in China. Hopefully none of the locals have been caught when the dragon was shot down. Alina then took to cover behind a house wall. "I think I heard something."


One the other side of the area, two ghouls were standing guard. They were on the lookout for humans. The ghouls were also armed with what appeared to be black metallic crossbows. Both resembled humanoid figures, but with rotting flesh and evoked the appearance of a zombie. However, they have not met contact with humans yet. Someone with eyes in the sky or sniper rifles can spot the ghouls though.

 

[KaldorDraigo]

"Solid copy Chade. Don't fall asleep at the wheel eh?" He thanked the pilot, slipping the pack on before moving off the ramp, rifle held at ready as his eyes scanned his own sector of fire. He lagged behind the main group, moving as sort of a rearguard and moving from cover to cover. Just as Alina heard the two ghouls, Leon was silently hoisting himself atop a small shed behind the group. Rifle stock against his shoulder, magnetic scope in his eyes he spotted their enemy immediately. "Contact, Contact, Twelve O'clock. Two hostiles, 500 meters. Do I have greenlight to engage?"


He announced his findings calmly, resting the centre of his crosshairs on the head of the first ghoul.

 

[DerUbermensch]

Center radioed to Leon. "Permission granted. Fire away!" He then set his monitors to the status of the strike team. He then saw via satellite imagery the ghouls. "Shoot the uglies down."


Indeed they were ugly. The ghouls were just like zombies. Only smarter, meaner, and using weaponry. Careless humans often fell prey to them during the attacks.