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Topic:  HSC 2010 story: Shatterpoint
Raziel
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Raziel
 
[VE-ARMY] Major
[VE-DJO] Dark Jedi Knight
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Post Number:  1576
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  HSC 2010 story: Shatterpoint
December 15, 2010 6:32:24 AM    View the profile of Raziel 
The crystalline world of Agea; a shining blue gem in the void of space. Someone had once taken the time to calculate the total wealth encrusted in the many miles of crystal formations that covered the planets surface. The number had been very large. The planet had gone relatively unnoticed, in the years since The Republic had been mining stations had been active there had only been one minor and brief skirmish. Pirates, happening across the station made an ill-planned attack on the station. Blaster fire had refracted throughout the crystalline formations and the attack had quickly turned to a massacre.

The Surface: 10 km South East of Zeta Mining Station

“This is ARC squad Fury, reporting to battle group Sift”

“We have you on secure channel, continue report,”

“We have eyes on approach path to Republic mining station. Element of surprise appears to be lost. We’re seeing maybe ten platoons, repeat that is approximately Four-Zero-Zero in number, enemy troops. Enemy soldiers appear to be using mining tools to create defensive trenches across the width of the plains.”

“Understood, the south west canyon?”

“Our men there report little movement, Republic forces have decided to commit most forces to most open attack path. The canyon path is tricky, on foot it closes down to as little as three metres if the overhead shots did show turrets that route will be a death trap,”

“Thank you ARC leader. Orders coming in now. Full attack commencing, go to ground and await further instruction,”

“Understood.”

VSD Dominion

The Star Destroyer popped into real space directly above Agea, no pretence of stealth was attempted; the scouts had confirmed the mining base was aware of the immanent attack. Flanked on both sides by naval support ships, it moved into low orbit.

“All blasters are to be left behind, this is an order! Anyone carrying a blaster will go to the brig!” On the open docking bays NCOs were busy shouting orders at the troops filing onto the shuttles.

“If you do not have you assault rifle or submachine gun and ammunition get out of line!” screamed another sergeant. As the troopers filed into the bay they were handed their weaponry and lining up for their shuttle. “Remember you have one clip each of explosive rounds for dealing with armor.  Do not fire these on full auto you will lose your damn arms!”

On the gantry above the bay Major Raziel and Lieutenant Havock watched as their elite SCOPE platoon joined the forces assembled. “There goes another one,” Havock said, referring to another shuttle departing.

“How are we looking?” Raziel asked.

“AT-ATs have landed on the crystal plains; as soon as we have enough men down there we’ll start the attack. They’ve put the shield up as expected but so far no fire aimed at the shuttles,”

“Any word on reinforcements?”

“None, but they can’t be far away. Command believes we should take the base by nightfall.”

“So Blackjack stepped up for the canyon run?”

“Indeed they did. The red armour might be going to their heads. If they can get through they could really do some damage,”

“That’s true, you be careful in those mine shafts. It could turn really nasty down there!”

“Of course, if it gets too hot we’ll pull back. At the very least we’ll draw some men away from the perimeter and good luck with whatever you’re up to!”

“I’ll be down on the surface shortly. I feel I’m going to be needed soon, good luck.”


The Crystal Plains 13 km south east of base

The four AT-ATs begain their slow march towards the base, their blaster cannons had been refitted with twin vilcan chain cannons. The stormtroopers, armed with assault rifles, spread out in the region fifty metres ahead of the walkers. As they began their approach on the New Republic defensive line a small group of red clad SCOPE troopers set off on speeder bikes to the west, another took an LAAT to the north east.


http://www.nottingham.ac.uk/~ppxrr/crystal.png
Look at this link for map and overview^^
OOC:
Here’s the deal: The New Republic mining station is nestled in the crystalline formations (the size of mountain ranges) It’s well defended by turrets and the main approach is across the relatively flat crystal plains to the south west. The Republic troops (numbering in the hundreds) have used laser mining tools to gouge out a series of trenches across the width of the plains (~1km)

WRAITH SQUAD: You will be with the main regiment of soldiers (~1000 regular stormtroopers) moving with the main attack force across the plains. The foot soldiers will be moving ahead of the four AT-ATs and two AT-STs in an attempt to smash the Republic lines. The armor will provide heavy firepower, but you will need to clear the trenches and take out any hidden enemy firing position. Threats to our walkers are considered a priority.

RAIDERS: An LAAT will take you to rendezvous with ARC troopers who have been scouting the planet for a few days. They have found an entrance to the Republic mining shafts that run deep below the main station. You will lead several squad of commandos and using silenced submachine guns (the silencing is purely so you aren’t deafened by the noise) attempt to gain access to the Republic base. Miners may attack you with cutting lasers and machinery rather than retreating. Some corridors will be very cramped choke points, though you may also encounter vast excavations. Your main goal is to cause confusion and draw men away from the surface defences.

BLACKJACK: You have the crazy mission. There is a canyon in the crystal formations to the south west of the base. At times it narrows down to only a few metres and the terrain is treacherous. You will make a run down the canyon on speeder bikes. If you can make it past Republic firing positions your goal is to swing around and make a run at the Republic’s defensive lines from behind.

EQUIPMENT: On the surface assault rifles. You each have only clip of hi tech rounds fitted with micro explosives for dealing with armor, the rest is regular 7.62mm. Standard SCOPE armour (no temperature problems this HSC!) No Blasters!!

WARNING: There is a jedi padawan of the new praxium on the planet investigating crystals. You may see him in action later on in the story, but you are not to engage him at any time!!

START: I want one post from each squad leader to get their squads orientated BEFORE anyone else in their squad posts please!

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ARC Commander: Alpha, Beta Squads

"God does not play dice with the universe" - Albert Einstein
"Who are you to tell God what to do with his dice?" - Bohr
"God does not play dice with the universe. He plays an ineffable game of His own devising, which might be compared, from the perspective of any of the other players [i.e. everybody], to being involved in an obscure and complex variant of poker in a pitch-dark room, with blank cards, for infinite stakes, with a Dealer who won't tell you the rules, and who smiles all the time." - Terry Pratchett
CM/DJK Raziel/lion 1-5/Krath/VEDJ/VE (WoS1) (VP1) (VP2)
[This message has been edited by Raziel (edited December 15, 2010 6:33:07 AM)]
[This message has been edited by Raziel (edited December 15, 2010 6:34:07 AM)]
[This message has been edited by Raziel (edited December 15, 2010 11:57:53 AM)]
Havock
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Havock
 
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  RE: HSC 2010 story: Shatterpoint
December 15, 2010 7:59:50 PM    View the profile of Havock 
OOC:
RAIDERS


The LAAT rose up above the shimmering world of Agea. The surface was deceptive from the shuttles altitude. With a glance one would assume that it was freezing below, when in fact it was rather comfortable. There was an issue with traction on the glassy surface though, although not nearly as bad as ice would have been.

"We should rendezvous with ARC Fury in ten."

Havock nodded without looking at Skarr. "Everyone has their guns prepped?"

The squad along with their three accompanying commando units were equipped with silenced submachine guns. Based on what she had been told by the squints, their weapons needed to be silenced to prevent temporary deafness by the reverb in the mines. She assumed that any loud noise should be avoided based on that intel.

"Locked and loaded Hav." He lowered his voice to a whisper. "I'm still worried about Bright though."

It wouldn't have been RAIDERS without some kind of personal issues occurring. This mission it was Brightstar. The veteran trooper had suffered a severe concussion on their previous mission which had caused amnesia. She remembered being a stormtrooper, which was what allowed her to stay on active duty, but much of the past several years was a blank.

"Don't. She can handle this, I know Bright."

Skarr wasn't convinced but he nodded and returned to his seat. The LAAT twisted on approach to the canyon which was their rendezvous point. Havock jumped out of the transport onto the crystal surface and jogged over to the ARC leader.

"Commander Drayson?" The fully armored trooper nodded. "I'm Lieutenant Katash, callsign Havock. I'm in charge of this band of lunatics."

"Lieutenant, we are ordered to escort you to the mine entrance we scouted then assist you while inside. Objective is to find a way in to the Republic base."

Havock smirked. "Yes it sounds like we got the same memo." She glanced back at the LAAT and watched it take off back towards the forward command location. The RAIDERS and commando troopers stood at the ready. "Lead the way Commander."


OOC:
Head towards the mine entrance and make sure you read Raziel's notes on the environment. HSC takes place AFTER our current squad story for CD purposes. And don't neglect the commando's or ARC team
Ayme 'Havock' Katash
1st Lieutenant || WILDCARD Platoon Commander|| RAIDERS Squad Leader || Osk Freelancer || Development Staff
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Certified Vehicle Crewman
Garryll Gates
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Garryll Gates
 
[VE-ARMY] First Sergeant
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  RE: HSC 2010 story: Shatterpoint
December 15, 2010 8:14:51 PM    View the profile of Garryll Gates 
OOC:
Blackjack

War is crazy, mused Garryll Gates, SCOPE’s Elite Blackjack Squad Leader. Aloud, however; “So here’s the plan, boys and girls.”

‘Girls’ was actually literally plural this time; there was actually more than one female in the lot this time around, and the squad was newer, better and ready to kick ass.

The assembled Blackjacks looked up from fiddling with their assault rifles, as did the scout trooper squads that were forming the rest of this crazy backdoor sneak. “We’ll be riding these death machines down this narrow, claustrophobic valley, fight our way through the Republic rear guard placed to defend this route, and then slice into the rear units of them.”

There were a few ‘hoo-ahs’ and other sounds of general agreement. “Now, Command has also issued these rifles-” he gestured with one of the standard issue 7.62mm assault rifles, larger and bulkier than the standard E-45’s or E-11’s- “for a reason. Lasers ain’t good for this rock. Or something. Who the heck knows? These things sound better anyway.”

A few more chuckles. Gates continued. “And this is the food of these weapons. Seven-point-six-two millimeter rounds, full metal jacket. Your rifle’ll fire one o’ these lil’ babies at 853 meters per second. That’s hella fast, in other words. It’ll cut through flesh like it’s butter, and it’s a lot less pretty than a laser. Hurts a lot more, too, and you WILL bleed out if you get hit by one.”

He slid the round back into the clip he’d taken it from and removed another, marked with a red cross. “And this is our spec load for the day, gents. Micro-explosive tech rounds. They’ll put a hole in body armor big as your fist. But they’re expensive. That’s why you only get thirty, and pick your darn targets. I don’t want one of these on a beeline for me.”

Crackling on a Scout trooper sergeant’s comm-pack alerted Gates. The man nodded at him.

“Alright, mount up.” He suited action to words and climbed onboard his hovering speeder bike. Around him, the Blackjacks and scout troopers did the same. Gates kicked his speeder bike’s throttle, and shot into the valley.
OOC:
Head for the objective, read Raziel's notes on the environment.
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ESL/1SGTGarryll Gates/4SQD/1PLT/1COM/1RGT/1BAT/Tadath/VEA/VE [RoM][ICE][IH][CCA][BC][SRP][AS-1][ES1][CoS][EW1] {RESx3} [ESC09] [RoT] [CRoS] [AoT][CoZ]

God is not on the side of the big battalions, but on the side of those who shoot best.
For Tadath, for the Empire.
Only in Death...does Duty end
Do not ask why you serve; only ask how
War is coming, with all its glory and all its horror
Saphira Striker
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Saphira Striker
 
[VE-ARMY] First Sergeant
[VE-VEEC] Journalist
 
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  RE: HSC 2010 story: Shatterpoint
December 15, 2010 11:52:00 PM    View the profile of Saphira Striker 
OOC:
BlackJack



During the little "speech" their SL gave them, everyone seemed ready to jump and go. Be it excitment, nerves, or both. Saphira didn't know which as she sighed and grabbed the assault rifle. It felt almost odd in her hand as she walked over to the speeder and hopped on.  A light bounce to her step as a few pebbles of the rock  fell from the bottom of her boot.

"Well, this should be fun. Anyone clausterphobic?" Saphira asked with a sleek smile. Of course, she had her bucket on already and no one could see her malavount smile. 

A few murmors of no coursed though the air. A slight chuckle came to her side and she knew it was JellyBean. The tone was there as she whiped her head to him.  At least they couldn't see each others facial features.

"You're lucky we're leaving, elase I would  have shot you with stun." She replied to the chuckle.

"You would not." JB replied and hopped on to his  speeder. Clicking his foot as the machine roared and he zipped up. Saphira shook her head and did the same as the others. However, she kept  in check as  the order went out and they all sped away.

Though the place seemed a dump, it was beautiful by many standards. High collective towers were built up on one another. Nearly glowing with a radiant  light.  The crystal  however was to be heald with risk. A sharp jagged piece would do someone it for sure at the right angle. Not something they needed. However, it was vast as a great sea as they sped and  drew down the thin line as it twisted and turned. The pace was almost slow, but it always seemed that way when you were the driver. They moved  along, keeping an eye out for traps or a scout that could blow their cover.
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Author/JRN Saphira Striker/Lotaith/VET/VE
Raziel
ComNet Marshal
 
Raziel
 
[VE-ARMY] Major
[VE-DJO] Dark Jedi Knight
[VE-ICS] Privateer
 
Post Number:  1581
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  RE: HSC 2010 story: Shatterpoint
December 16, 2010 2:20:39 AM    View the profile of Raziel 
OOC:
blackjack may assume that their speeder bikes prow blaster cannons have been replaced with either a chain gun or a grenade launcher
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ARC Commander: Alpha, Beta Squads

"God does not play dice with the universe" - Albert Einstein
"Who are you to tell God what to do with his dice?" - Bohr
"God does not play dice with the universe. He plays an ineffable game of His own devising, which might be compared, from the perspective of any of the other players [i.e. everybody], to being involved in an obscure and complex variant of poker in a pitch-dark room, with blank cards, for infinite stakes, with a Dealer who won't tell you the rules, and who smiles all the time." - Terry Pratchett
CM/DJK Raziel/lion 1-5/Krath/VEDJ/VE (WoS1) (VP1) (VP2)
Grahim
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Grahim
 
[VE-ARMY] Lance Corporal
 
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  RE: HSC 2010 story: Shatterpoint
December 16, 2010 9:58:16 AM    View the profile of Grahim 
OOC:
RAIDERS



Grahim walked with the rest of the squad towards their objective. Grahim saw a lot of new faces since he last were in the squad. Mesa just hopes everyone survives. Grahim thought to himself as he looked around. Grahim wasn't really fond of machine guns but they did the job they were meant to do.

Grahim heard the murmur of the squad talking but he didn't really listen. Instead he inspected all the troopers that were moving. The ARC squad walking first to show the way, The commando troopers, that were an addition to RAIDERS only for this mission, walked behind everybody else. Grahim thought that they had proven to be to destructive to be let loose on their own. They were to be transported and guided towards the enemy and then released so that no imperials except for some RAIDERS members were wounded. Grahim thought it was a wise plan if it would play out like that.

“Havock could yousa tell mesa why wesa isa needed here?” Grahim complained.

“Yes we are needed here because we are the best.” Havock said with a bit of irony. Grahim continued walking towards their objective. Mesa will not earn anything on disa campaign. Grahim thought and glared at Havock. Grahim knew it wasn't Havock's fault really but she was his closest superior.

Grahim fell into line again besides Karash, the most needed member in RAIDERS. Grahim still held a grudge against Karash because thought he gave Grahim a deadly dose of meds instead. Grahim had been captured by the NR. But Karash were probably the one Grahim agreed with the most.

Grahim looked back towards the commandos. Grahim reconed that he was the only human in the group or so he thought anyways after inspecting everyone. He felt disgusted. Demsa humans allways think deysa are so special. Grahim thought.

“Karash what do yousa think about disa mission.” Grahim said.

“I don't find this mission to unsatisfying... yet, soon I will be patching you up as usually.” Karash replied.

“Mesa meant about disa planets environment.”

“Oh, I think it is okay I guess.”

“Mesa think itsa isa unnatural and creepy.”
Grahim Nass Sad
RAIDERS Squad
TRP/LCP Grahim/2SQD/1PLT/1COM/1BAT/1REG/VEA/VE[AS-H][AoT][CDS][ESC09]


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Karash
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Karash
 
[VE-ARMY] Sergeant
 
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  RE: HSC 2010 story: Shatterpoint
December 16, 2010 1:33:03 PM    View the profile of Karash 
OOC:
RAIDERS


‘Why does he always feel the need to talk to me? You have almost killed him and he still tries to engage with you more than anyone else, it just beggars belief. Though maybe if you just keep quiet he will forget about you and annoy Havock...’ As usual Karash’s inner voice was complaining, on this occasion it was about Grahim. ‘... And don’t even start with me about Havock! She almost got us all killed, not to mention the stupidity of dragging that poor fool along with us ...’ Karash looked in Brights direction and got the same uncomfortable feeling he did at the start of every RAIDERS mission. ‘...Speaking of fools, it is good see we have been lumped in with the commando’s and ARC troopers; they will provide excellent cannon fodder when things go wrong and thing will go wrong, they always do’. 

“You heard the man, keep moving we are almost there.” Havock spoke referencing the ARC commander, whose words Karash had not heard.

‘Oh goodie we will get to go underground on a see-through planet, who the hell came up with that? They will see us; we will get caught in a pincer movement and then it will be you who ends up doing extra work, that is if we don’t all die. This is a ridiculous looking planet and they are ridiculous looking people.’ Karash looked around and saw a rather motley looking group that would surely all die, at least they all would if the RAIDERS had anything had to do with anything.

“I see you are your usual happy self.” The RAIDERS ASL, Skarr, attempted to joke with Karash.

“Yes I am a little sparkling crystal, same as always; if you will pardon the pun.” The sarcasm oozed from his voice.

“Knock it off you two, this is where things get interesting.” Havock looked over to the entrance of the tunnels.

“Interesting would be one word for it.” Karash spoke in a whisper.

She was right, they had reached the entrance to the mines, and they looked strangely welcoming. Though Karash was sure that the feeling would not last long... nothing ever did last long when it came to the RAIDERS.
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[This message has been edited by Karash (edited December 16, 2010 1:34:03 PM)]
Jegora
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Jegora
 
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  RE: HSC 2010 story: Shatterpoint
December 16, 2010 5:09:07 PM    View the profile of Jegora 
OOC:
Wraith Squad


“TRENCH!” came the shout over the recon communications circuit, followed closely by a hail of gun fire from a seemingly inconspicuous rise in the crystalline terrain. Simultaneously every Vast Empire solider dove to the ground in an attempt to make themselves less appealing to the enemy soldiers stationed in the trench just ahead. Meanwhile, the AT-ATs opened fire with their heavy chain guns, the explosive rounds ripping giant holes in the surface of the planet. Instantly the incoming fire from the trench abated as the New Republic soldiers attempted to find cover of their own.

Bloody bastards are getting tricky, aren’t they, Jegora thought to himself as he hit dirt. He had been expecting this attack for a while now, but it was still something of a surprise when it came. As flat and open as the Aegean surface was, it was incredibly hard to detect the subtle swells and depressions in the ground that could indicate enemy defensive fortifications. As the Vast Empire troopers had just found out first hand. A few meters away Jegora saw his squad leader raise a hand to the side of her helmet, obviously listening to orders being broadcasted from some superior officer. Sure enough, only a few seconds later Mai’s voice erupted inside his helmet, her characteristic accent even more noticeable under such stressful conditions.

“Wraith, on me,” the Cathar ordered. Jegora sighed and heaved himself back up to his feet, making sure to stay as low to the ground as he could. By now the Vast Empire foot soldiers were beginning to return fire as well, and while he trusted the AT-ATs and his comrades to keep the enemy tucked safely in their trenches he really didn’t want some happy-go-lucky sniper taking his head off. There was absolutely no sense in taking unnecessary risks, especially in such a volatile situation.

Jegora and the rest of the squad followed their squad leader over to where a small group of soldiers were gathering. When the Wraith troopers arrived, a senior officer looked up from a holographic display of the terrain and nodded to himself.

“Good,” the lieutenant said. “I’ve heard that you guys are some of the best. Well, we need the best now.”

He pointed at a thin lining running perpendicular to the Vast Empire’s column of troops and armour. “As far as we can tell, this is the trench we just bumped up against. The AT-AT s can’t get firing resolutions inside the trench, and the damn thing could be mined.”

Jegora could see where this was going, and he didn’t like it at all. Above all else, Jegora absolutely hated small spaces, and trenches definitely counted.

“Command says the trenches have to be cleared before we can advance. By hand. That’s where you guys come in. Understood?”

The fifty or so troopers gathered around the officer nodded, Wraiths included. “Alright, good,” the officer continued. “The walkers will attempt to smash a hole in the trench here, at this end. You can enter there. We’ll provide covering fire for you so you don’t get your heads blown off. Clear?”

Once again, everyone gathered around the officer nodded. “Alright, we go in five. If you’re not ready, you better get ready mighty damn quick.”
Jegora Fal
Adept of the Dark Jedi Order
Senior Captain of the Osk Company
Assistant to the Executive Officer
Wraith Trooper


TRP/`1LT Jegora/3SQD/1PLT/1COM/1BAT/1RGT/VEA/VE
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Corvin
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Corvin
 
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  RE: HSC 2010 story: Shatterpoint
December 16, 2010 11:02:03 PM    View the profile of Corvin 
OOC:
Blackjack


Right now, Corvin reflected, he could see why some troopers joined the scout divisions. Gripping the handlebars with both gloved hands, the Blackjack trooper was just behind Garryll at the lead of the speeder formation.

It had been a long time since IOT, but he still remembered the general piloting course with the 74-Z. Stabilizer controls were here, altitude pedals were there, and cannon triggers under the thumbs. This speeder wasn't all that different from the training 74, with only a few environment adaptions, the armament, and a lot less service separating the two.

His helmet display was a blur of light and colour, the visor catching reflected light from the walls, and readouts from the bike scrolling across the bottom. The world was a kaleidoscope of constantly-shifting colours, the other Blackjacks red-grey outlines in his peripheral vision. His helmet sensors told him the other scout lances were directly behind them, fanning into two lines and pressed almost steering vane to bumper.

Jagged crystals jutted out from the walls at sharp angles, some of the tips just inches away from his bike's sides. The wind shrieked past Corvin, tugging at his bodyglove and holsters.

"Stay sharp, Blackjacks. Keep in double-line formation." Garryll ordered over the com, his voice warped and laced with static despite being less than three feet away at the front of the formation. "Scout squads, report."

"Sergeant Gris here. Sidewinders are sharp...ready for action."

Corvin winced as the com interference got worse, and dialed down the device's volume.

"Gryphons reporting as ordered." came a second voice, calm and with the clipped tones of a Core World native. It sounded slightly strange to Corvin, who was more used to the twang of Outer Rim accents. "Ready and willing."

"Good to hear it." Garryll said, a distracted note in his voice. "Watch your altitude, and the walls. Those pretty crystals are plenty sharp."

The two scout leaders responded with affirmatives, and Corvin saw their bike groups press inwards.

Garryll closed the group channel with a click, and switched to the squad frequency.

"How're we doing, Blackjacks?"

"Holding up, sir." Corvin grinned, tightening his grip on the handlebars. "Think I'm getting the hang of flying this thing."

"Well, keep yo- mind the gap!" Garryll yelled, abruptly switching back to the group channel. Sure enough, up ahead the crystal-studded canyon floor abruptly descended into a seemingly-bottomless chasm before resuming  a dozen meters later.

Corvin swore, then stomped down on the repulsorpedal. There was a shudder, one awful moment of doubt, and then his bike shot up at an angle, it's high-pitched whine dopplering and stretching out as he flew over the gap.

Corvin braced as he pulled back on the bike's handlebars, leveling out a few meters shy of the canyon's top. Light played across his armour, bouncing off at strange angles. Everything up here was tinted a sickly blue, and Corvin swore that he could feel the sun even through his armour. Then he relaxed his grip on the pedal, and the bike dropped back to the canyon floor.

"Mind the gap." Corvin said, more to himself than to the squad. "Mind the frakking gap indeed."

The last Blackjacks swooped into position, sending up sparkling clouds of crystal dust on touchdown, with the s cout squads following. The biker specialists landed much easier, their speeders coming down in a smooth glide. One even waved, taking one hand from the guide bars to do so.

"Smug frakkers." Corvin grumbled over the squad channels.

"Let it go." Saphira Striker, the squad's new ASL, advised. Corvin wasn't sure how he felt about her yet, or the other newcomers. He'd crossed paths with most of them, but they weren't Blackjacks, not yet, no matter what Command said. "We've got a job to do."

"Ma'am." Corvin said shortly, pushing slightly harder on the accelerator. His bike coughed, stuttered, and then shot forwards.

The bike squads flew on, leaving glinting clouds in their wake.
ETRP/CPL Corvin/4SQD/1PLT/1COM/1BAT/1RGT/Tadath/VEA/VE[ESC09][AoT][IH][HotC]
~BLACKJACK~
*Vehicle Pilot*
Read the bloody manual!
"Never believe a rumour of my demise. I have as many lives as a cat. Also as many teeth, as many claws, and the same cheery, cooperative disposition." Peter Wiggin, Xenocide
Imperial Network Star Wars Image
"The Committee has also voted to change the name of the position, simply because no one liked the fact that its accronym spelled out Noo. "
[This message has been edited by Corvin (edited December 17, 2010 7:55:21 AM)]
Bloodhound
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  RE: HSC 2010 story: Shatterpoint
December 16, 2010 11:03:22 PM    View the profile of Bloodhound 
OOC:
Wraith


Bloodhound growled. In the Corps it required experience to be an officer, in the regular army a commission could literally be bought these days. Bloodhound did not like this, he had little enough respect for other Troopers, he had next to none for regulars.  It wasn't their fault really, Bloodhound didn't especially like anyone. People asking him to do dangerous things for nothing but a pittance of a paycheck he liked even less.

Another day, another dollar.

What the bloody hell is a dollar?

Bloodhound maintained an inner monologue with a serpents tongue at all times. He absolutely hated that inner monologue. Always shooting down his ideas and calling him an idiot. If he could kill it he would.

"Bloodhound, head out of the clouds. Now!" Ole Two-Fists-Fal, Bloodhound had endured him during his short stay in Jester, he was loath the be around him again, "Bounding over watch, to the trench."

Bloodhound narrowed his eyes, wishing for all the galaxy he could take off the helmet, no matter how clean the lenses were, to him they always seemed an obstruction to his vision. He made out the next piece of cover scattered on the crystalline landscape, a small formation of minerals fifteen meters ahead, a little far, but he could make it.

"Team two set,"

"Team three moving, cover us while we move!" Bloodhound yelled.

Two man teams worked best for bounding over watch, he and Jegora sprinted to the formation ahead of them as Team Two laid down covering fire. Short semi-automatic bursts; aimed shots, but quick to keep the enemies head down. Even covering fire was aimed, no point shooting rounds out randomly, wasted ammunition, ineffective. Bloodhound collapsed against the formation, poking his head around the side.

"Team Three set!" Jegora yelled, his voice echoed with the slightest delay by the earpiece in the helmet.

"Team Two moving, cover us while we move!"

It was one of the simplest drills, driven into them through basic training, perfected through countless drills once in their squad. It worked, and it worked well, the Wraiths advancing on the position in teams, one team to lay down cover fire, one team to move. Bloodhound laid down his cover fire one carefully aimed round at a time. Hollow point rounds chipping away at the trench centimeter by centimeter as he attempted to pin down one of the Republic soldiers entrenched ahead of him. Getting lucky and killing him now would save him the trouble later.

"Team Two set!"

"Team Three moving, cover us while we move!" Jegora roared.

Bloodhound had been too busy trying to kill the enemy to pick out the next position they'd move to, he had to follow Jegora's lead, keeping a bare step behind him as they ran. Bloodhound didn't like that and silently cursed himself. He had to run just that much slower, it left him in the open longer and that was bad. Covering fire wasn't perfect, it wasn't didn't cover all angles and relied on a people's abilities. He didn't trust those. Covering fire didn't hold a match to real cover. Even concealment was better, just something to block the enemy's vision would do.

They were close now though, the danger was high. Moelik "The Bloodhound" Hond's blood boiled. He might be a horrible at soldiering, at everything to do with it except this. Except combat. He loved combat.
Ain't nothin' but a hound dog.
Jegora
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Jegora
 
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  RE: HSC 2010 story: Shatterpoint
December 17, 2010 12:20:19 AM    View the profile of Jegora 
OOC:
Wraith Squad


The leap frog up to the trench was relatively smooth until the last few meters. Once the Wraiths were that close, covering fire became spotty at best as not many troopers would fire on enemy positions so close to friendlies. This gave the enemy soldiers manning the trench the opportunity to lay down suppressing fire of their own, and at such close range the chances of Jegora getting shot were greatly increased. And so, his highly analytical brain whirring, Jegora decided that the best course of action would be to make Hond go first.

This close to the enemy position Jegora could see that the ‘trench’ they were trying to storm was more fortified than they had originally anticipated. Instead of just a channel cut in the ground, there was a slight rise in the crystalline surface followed by a three foot vertical lip. It provided perfect cover for the New Republic defenders, and it would be extremely difficult to mount the lip of the trench without presenting the perfect target to any other enemy combatants standing post along the edge. It was a suicide mission, and right then Jegora felt inclined to tell his superiors as much.

“Team three is set at the base of the trench,” Jegora began to report over his comlink. “But I don’t think this—”

He never got the chance to finish. Just ahead of him, only three meters or so away, the heads of three enemy soldiers appeared just above the trench’s lip…followed shortly thereafter by three matching rifle barrels. Next to him Hond growled a curse, and as one both the Stormtroopers scrambled for weapons. Time seemed to slow as Jegora tried to bring his bulky assault rifle to bear on the tangos, and he instinctively knew that there was no way he could kill all three before they could kill him. As he watched the enemy troopers raise their rifles to their shoulders, he knew that death was simply inevitable.

Hond was still swearing next to him, still scrambling. Jegora was still moving as well, despite his apparent and imminent demise. And then, out of nowhere, the entire section of trench containing the immediate threat exploded. Jegora had no other words for it. The crystalline lip shattered, showering the two stormtroopers with debris. And then, even through his helmet’s sonic filters, he heard the shrill whine of high-velocity rounds. As he hugged the ground, Jegora understood on some level that the AT-ATs had opened fire on the trench, but all he was really concerned with at that point was surviving.

Finally the relentless fire from the AT-ATs abated, and Jegora’s senses returned in a rush. The lip was gone, the immediate enemy threat neutralized, and Hond and Jegora were still alive.

“You have GOT TO BE SHITTING ME!” Hond was screaming into his helmet, the noise only partially dampened by Jegora’s own filters. “That could have bloody killed us!”

Jegora agreed one hundred percent, but he would never let the convict know that. He had other things on his mind, anyways. Now was the perfect opportunity to storm the trench.

Grabbing Hond by the shoulder, Jegora used a massive hand to shove the half-breed forwards towards the newly-made opening. “MOVE!” he shouted, and then took his own advice.

Bloody hell I hope the others are following, Jegora thought to himself as he crossed the threshold of the trench. After that there was no time for thought, and reason fled. Hond summed up the situation well as the pair entered the trench, right before the shooting started.

“Holy shit.”
Jegora Fal
Adept of the Dark Jedi Order
Senior Captain of the Osk Company
Assistant to the Executive Officer
Wraith Trooper


TRP/`1LT Jegora/3SQD/1PLT/1COM/1BAT/1RGT/VEA/VE
[RCoD] [IH] [BC] [EW1] [MRT] [CoZ] [CCA] [DCE] [BoT] [ESC09] [AS-2]
Bloodhound
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  RE: HSC 2010 story: Shatterpoint
December 17, 2010 1:27:30 AM    View the profile of Bloodhound 
OOC:
Wraith


There were some things that couldn't be summed up in words. Bloodhound's limited vocabulary increased the number of those things significantly, but what was before him now would have escaped the most masterful poet of any time. The only words he, and very likely anyone else, had was the simple but clear, "Holy Shit."

There was no describing the godless death trap, not for Moelik Hond. There was only shock, dismay and panic. He dove into the trench with his assault rifle shouldered, for the first time the selector switch was turned to auto, and any pretense of aiming was gone. It was madness and chaos wrapped in blood and filth. The small wall concealed a walkway built above the real trench. The trench was, in truth, a good twenty or thirty feet deep, at the least. The narrow walkway he was now fighting on was at most six feet wide, he couldn't have stretched out on it, so maybe it was smaller.

His footing was poor, a heavy weight hitting his back was Jegora, As much as he hated the man it was good to have something to his back. The larger man would make a bigger target too. At worst he was good cover. Hot brass poured out of his weapon and spilled down the walk and into the trench, it ricocheted off of his armor and nestled itself on corpses.

Thirty rounds flew from the weapon, killing, wounding, missing. The magazine slid from it with the touch of the release lever and clattered to the ground uselessly. The wounded tangled his feet, pulling him to his knees. That was the true end of thought.

The Republic soldiers were like any other, they knew the flow of battle, were sensitive to it's rhythm. When Hond's rifle stopped firing two were on him, one more was trying to pull security, keeping his weapon on Hond; he couldn't shoot though, not with his buddies so close.

They tried to bring Hond to the ground, but The Bloodhound lashed out with his rifle, using it to beat back at them. Point Blank Combatives, as it had been taught in Basic Training, PoBlaC for short. The rifle was a mediocre club, he knocked one from the height, another across the temple. Lacking any better plan he threw the rifle at the third, relying on the distraction alone. It gave him time to throw himself into the man and bury his combat knife in his stomach, again and again and again. He'd never gone any higher in the PoBlaC course than required, so he hadn't gotten to knife fighting.

Instead it reminded him of his teenage years. In those days a knife fight on the street or in a prison was not uncommon. Knife gripped in the fist, blade to the other guy, left hand for blocking, cut hands heal faster than cut throats, lead with the shoulder, knock them off balance. Go under the ribs, doesn't have to be clean, just has to be many. He'll bleed to death or go into shock. It's ok.

Where are the others?

Left you, mate, they're out having drinks without you.

Jegora was grappling with republic soldiers. Bloodhound pushed himself from his cover and darted in among them. As much to kill his fill as to help Jegora. He'd have to rub it in. Later. Now was for fighting, and for that Bloodhound had to narrow his eyes and let himself fall into rhythm.
Ain't nothin' but a hound dog.
Baptiste
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Baptiste
 
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  RE: HSC 2010 story: Shatterpoint
December 17, 2010 2:17:23 AM    View the profile of Baptiste 
OOC:
Wraith


Baptiste  rushes to the trenches with Team Two as Jegora and Hond were finishing off some Rebels. He shoulders his rifle, aiming down the sights, looking for anymore targets. He goes up to Jegora, lowering his rifle to the ground.

“Sir, the AT-ATs are half way to their mark, they are providing support fire where they can. The others are coming up behind me,” Baptiste says to Jegora.

“Good, means more of them die and less of us. Still have to keep pushing forward,” Jegora says.

Baptiste just nods because he was looking behind Jegora as he saw movement. Quickly bringing his rifle up, he side steps around Jegora and fires a single shot into the Rebel’s head. The Rebel was hiding among the bodies of his fellow comrades.

Such a coward and no honor to shoot someone in the back.

He looks back as Hond joins them and nods a greeting to him. Baptiste didn’t really like to say more then needed so he kept things simple. Being a Zabraki, his mind was only set on killing the rebels and taking the trenches.

He walked over to other side of the trench and peeked over a little as bullets flew past him. He spotted an artillery guns and a heavily guarded bunker.

We have to take that bunker and gun out could do some damage to the AT-ATs.

He turns back to Jegora to inform him that there was a priority target ahead.

“Sir, we got an Artillery gun and bunker a few kilometers away. How should we approach?” Baptiste watches his movements as he goes and assesses the situation his self. He seems to be taking in every possibility.

Even though I’m was freshly new to the squad I will to make my mark in it. He felt that Jegora was the type of person he could work with. He didn’t know much of Hond since this was their first mission together, but they were on the same team. He will wait and see how Hond can be of help.
TRP/PSC  Baptiste/3SQD/1PLT/1COM/1BAT/1RGT/VEA/VE/
[This message has been edited by Baptiste (edited December 17, 2010 2:37:05 AM)]
CassusBlack
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  RE: HSC 2010 story: Shatterpoint
December 17, 2010 9:16:53 AM    View the profile of CassusBlack 
OOC:
Wraith


“Trench!”


Cassus had been slowly trotting alongside a number of regulars for some time now, his assault rifle slung over his shoulder, his right hand firmly wrapped around the grip as they leisurely walked through the crystal fields of Agea – everything had happened so fast for Cassus, thrust into a Wraith squadron, and almost immediately thrust into war. Sure, he had seen pictures, been through simulations, but this was the real thing – it was all so out of control, so... realistic, what could Cassus do? He was nothing to this men, a new recruit, and a Private Second Class – he would do his duty; shut-up, follow orders, and shoot the enemy. Hopefully he wouldn't die while following those three duties.


It was like a large flash, troopers had hit the dirt, and while Cassus was on the way there, he wasn't quick enough, a loud boom, followed by a flash of light, and a large barrage of shrapnel. Cassus had been knocked on his feet, the loud ringing in his ears and the instant pounding headache, and the thud! his body made as he hit the hard ground, dropping his rifle, and quickly grabbing at his head, he only felt the armored helmet he wore, almost curling up in the fetal position for a moment, before trying his best to come-to, getting to his knees before collapsing once, and then trying once again, slowly rising from the ground – some troopers around him had not been so lucky. Looking over to the other squadmates he knew so far, Jegora, and then Mai. He hadn't had a formal introduction to all of them, and was more or less a last-minute replacement.


The loud whining chainguns from the AT-AT's behind Cassus, the Wraith Squad, and the other Stormtroopers, instantly made it almost impossible to hear anything, that was – until he heard the simple command...


“Command says the trenches have to be cleared before we can advance. By hand. That’s where you guys come in. Understood?”


Doing a double-take Cassus could easily attest to the suicidal mission, marching up on a bunker, the AT-AT cover barely sustainable, and then breaching it; into an unknown enemy position... I guess this was why they had sent so many soldiers, they hadn't expected everyone to come out alive. Holding back a small sigh, Cassus only nodded his head, he wouldn't argue, nor comment on the situation at hand – he would obey, it was his duty... it was his job.


Quickly stacking up being Jegora, it was a basic hop-scotch drill, some called it leapfrogging, team two would get positioning, supply covering fire for team three – and they would continue this simple drill until they were at the bunker. Before he knew it, he was up against the base of the bunker, two soldiers away from Jegora, looking over to the soldier, he awaited his next command of course; that came more from a general standpoint than Jegora himself, because before he knew it, loud fire hit the side of the bunker, sending pieces of the bunker flying everywhere... the troopers were rushing in,  and Cassus was quick to follow, raising his assault rifle as he stepped through the ruins, taking a moment before firing a few shots. Blam! Blam-blam! The rounds quickly entered into the stomach-area of one of the Republic troops, the man quickly grabbed his stomach, collapsing to his knees before letting out a small grunt of defeat, falling over in death.


Here they were, quickly storming the enemy bunker, guns blazing... it would only be a matter of time before the Republic soldiers were either all dead or had surrendered, they were outnumbered, and the troopers were flooding the trench, prepared to kill anyone whom would stand in their way.

TRP/PSC Cassus Black/3SQD/1PLT/1COM/1BAT/1RGT/VEA/VE
Corvin
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  RE: HSC 2010 story: Shatterpoint
December 17, 2010 11:48:32 AM    View the profile of Corvin 
It happened in the space of a moment.

There was a flash, a momentary crackle, and a sudden tang of ozone. One of the Gryphons slumped over onto his bike's controls, his chestplate and torso burned away.

"Cont-" Corvin started, only to be silenced by a shriek of metal. The now-unmanned bike had swerved alarmingly, slamming into its Sidewinder counterpart. Sparks flew everywhere as steering vanes scraped into each other, the Sidewinder pilot clinging grimly to his handlebars as he struggled to keep his bike under control.

"Trent!" Sergeant Gris yelled into the com. "Keep her steady!"

The Sidewinder pilot just clicked his com, his bike trailing sparks as stray crystals nicked its sides. The unmanned bike was forcing him down towards the ground, the now-deceased Gryphon's body pushing down on his own bike's right handle. Trent's bike had never been designed to support the weight of another speeder, and it was all the scout could do to keep the bike from crashing.

Another particle beam lanced by, missing Garryll by inches and shattering a crystal outcropping directly behind him. Corvin hissed in pain as stray fragments flew into his bodyglove, pinging off his armour plates and the bike's sides.

"What the frak?" the trooper swore, flipping off the safeties on his bike chaingun with one hand. The shriek of stressed metal from the connected bikes intensified as another bolt burned into the  canyon wall. "Those aren't lasers!"

Corvin could see the enemy. There were three of them, hundreds of meters ahead, wearing environment suits and repulsorpacks. Two were toting long-barreled, curious rifles while the third was frantically fiddling with a com-device.

"Disruptor rifles." Garryll said grimly. "Jammers, now!"

Corvin quickly moved one hand, flipping the switch in the middle of the bike's panel. Near the middle of the convoy, Trent's bike was starting to wobble, its control vanes groaning as they started to bend under the weight. Less than a meter away on both sides, his squadmates watched helplessly. The dead Gryphon was blocking any of the others from intervening, and any impact on the locked bikes would send them both spiraling out of control and into a wall.

Another shot flew past, barely missing the Gryphon's sergeant. The Republic snipers' aim was improving.

"Corvin, Striker." Garryll barked. "Your bikes have launchers?"

"Yes, sir."

"Yeah." the ASL responded through gritted teeth, glancing back at the damaged bikes.

"Fire on my mark, then trigger boosters. Rest of you, jump on my order. Got it!"

The rebels were less than a dozen meters away now, their shots skimming the troopers every time now. In moments, they'd hit somewhere vital on a bike, and in the tight corners of the canyon, it'd take others with it.

Corvin felt a shot sear into his shoulderpad, burning a long line into the armourplast coating and charring the skin underneath. It felt like someone had dragged a hot coal over his arm.

"Now!"

Corvin sighted, jerked his bike's nose up, then fired. The bike shuddered as both mounted launchers triggered, and it was all the Blackjack could do to stop it from flipping over. Saphira fired a moment later, and then the two Blackjacks flew up and over the sniper nest.

The grenades landed squarely in the middle of the group, riddling them with shrapnel and crystal shards. The bodies that fell from the outcropping and onto the jagged floor was barely recognizable as humanoid.

By then, the rest of the squads had also triggered their bikes' repulsors. The dozen speeders soared up and over the stricken pair, giving Trent the space he needed to break free.

The Sidewinder pilot jerked back on his bike's throttle, pulling it free with a shriek of metal as it shot back in a shower of sparks. The Gryphon's bike, now unimpeded, jerked forwards, flew end over end as it scrapped against a crystal formation, and exploded into a fireball and shower of crystal shards.

"You alright, Trent?" Gris asked, bringing his bike back down carefully. The other bikers followed, speeding down the canyon. Behind them, the wreckage of the Gryphon bike was smoldering merrily, throwing up sparks and smoke.

"A'ok, sir. Can't say the same for Cardinal though."

"He knew the risks." the Gryphon sergeant said, voice terse and controlled. "Status?"

"Seems we managed to block them before they could call it in," Garryll responded. "Better hurry up though. Won't take long for them to figure out something's awry. Full speed, Blackjack, and watch for more snipers."

"Boss," Corvin said into the private com. "You know they'll have set up in force, in case we pull something like this?"

"Yep," the Squad Leader said, tone cheerful. "Matter of fact, I'm counting on it."

"Really?"

"No, just always wanted to say that. We're Blackjack; we'll just smash through them. Keep watching."

Corvin pressed down on the accelerator pedal. The force was getting closer to the canyon mouth. It wouldn't be long now.
ETRP/CPL Corvin/4SQD/1PLT/1COM/1BAT/1RGT/Tadath/VEA/VE[ESC09][AoT][IH][HotC]
~BLACKJACK~
*Vehicle Pilot*
Read the bloody manual!
"Never believe a rumour of my demise. I have as many lives as a cat. Also as many teeth, as many claws, and the same cheery, cooperative disposition." Peter Wiggin, Xenocide
Imperial Network Star Wars Image
"The Committee has also voted to change the name of the position, simply because no one liked the fact that its accronym spelled out Noo. "
[This message has been edited by Corvin (edited December 17, 2010 11:55:49 AM)]
Bloodhound
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  RE: HSC 2010 story: Shatterpoint
December 17, 2010 1:13:24 PM    View the profile of Bloodhound 
OOC:
Wraith


Hond bled toxins from his veins. His blood more alcohol, nicotine and spice than cellular structures. He sunk his combat knife into a republic eye socket, the scream was the final note of what Bloodhound could only hope was a chorus.  Bloodhound looked around, not for survivors, he didn't care one way or the other about them. He was looking for his rifle, a fist of controlled panic gripped his heart as he rummaged among bodies for it.

It had been a main tenant of basic training and military life there after. Never lose your weapon. Without a rifle he was incomplete, at least on the battlefield. He searched frantically for it, finally finding it under a soldiers corpse, his head twisted all the way around, making a sick mockery of physiology. The rifle was covered in blood and the sand of broken crystals.

Even diamonds turn to sand in the waves.

Who said that? Was it someone we killed, it was, wasn't it?

Hell if I know.

Hond brushed the weapon off as best he could, he tried to blow into the chamber, momentarily forgetting the helmet over his head. He almost chuckled at his own foolishness. Instead he inserted a magazine and raked the action back, chambering another hollow point.

Shit, head in the clouds again, Moelik.

Hond looked around, locating the other members of his squad, satisfied with his cursory glance he tried to pick a spot to watch from, finding cover behind fragments of the broken wall and corpses as he watched the left side of the trench.

The trench had series of redundant cover for the defenders, redoubts and bunkers dotted along it's length. For now he'd watch the one ahead of him, it was twenty meters away at most. The enemy was active, but were concentrating on. . .Hond didn't know, perhaps they were fortifying their position; he knew they weren't shooting, not yet, perhaps waiting for the squad to advance, not willing to expend the extra ammunition unless they were pushing forward. Defense was harder than offense, he knew that much. He hoped that was an advantage for him and not just an advantage to generals.

Behind him the rest of squad establish their security, they would only have to hold it for a moment, just until the kitty-cat squad leader decided where they were going. He must have done something wrong in a past life, to be stuck with the arrogant kitten.

As the squad members each threw out a verbal report on liquids, ammunition, casualty and equipment for each of them Bloodhound made a quick check of his own. He was green on all and said as much. With his report the squad began moving again, along the upper walk, Bloodhound didn't know what had been decided, only that he was once again stuck with Jegora as the squad bounded along the thin crystal ledge.

Bursts of fire slowed them, but it did not stop them, very few things stopped a determined Stormtrooper squad, and in this particular situation Wraith were rather determined. Hond, at the least, wanted to kill something. Well, more something's.
Ain't nothin' but a hound dog.
[This message has been edited by Mongrel (edited December 17, 2010 1:15:09 PM)]
Atoll
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Atoll
 
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  RE: HSC 2010 story: Shatterpoint
December 17, 2010 1:33:09 PM    View the profile of Atoll 
OOC:
Wraith


Chaos. It was the only way to describe it. Absolute utter chaos. Bullets were flying in all directions. Men clutched gaping stomachs where they have been disembowelled by misfired armour-piercing rounds, gazing in shock at their stump of a leg from where it had been blown off. Crawling along the ground were soldiers, half-dead, determined to avenge themselves and their brothers. And yet Wraith Squad fought fiercely through, unfaltering, their resolve still strong and all major appendages soundly intact.

Talohn was not used to warfare of this scale. He had participated in raids, yes. Small battles, likewise. But not a full-scale battlefield. He was unsure of himself. Hond, on the other hand, was revelling in the carnage. A wide snarl etched across his face, he darted from soldier to soldier, stabbing and shooting and killing. Jegora Fal was quite the opposite from either of them. Instead of disconcerted, he was focused. Instead of bloodthirsty, he was quite calm. The Cathar, Mai, seemed to be much the same.

Talohn focused. This was no time for morals or doubt. This was a time for doing what must be done. And if that means charging into a trench filled to the brim with tangos, then it must be done, he mused.

Another soldier charged through, tackling Talohn and sending them both sprawling onto the ground. The soldier grinned madly and whipped a knife from his belt, bringing it down upon Talohn's chest with both hands, safety and security abandoned in the bout of insanity. Talohn quickly grabbed his hands to stop the fatal thrust but the power behind the attack was strong enough to add a small cut to Talohn's collection. The soldier snarled. He raised his hands up again, but a sharp jab to the chin quickly knocked him off balance, allowing Talohn to draw a knife of his own. He thrust it upwards blindly. His aim was true and the knife buried itself into the man's exposed throat. Blood spurted wildly onto Talohn's face and the man shuddered and - as life left him - went limp, crushing Talohn with his weight. With a groan, he heaved the man's lifeless body off.

As he got up, he realised that Wraith had breached through the line of New Republicans and they had continued on. Few soldiers of the Republic were left and the troopers were finishing them off. Talohn saw a man huddled in the corner, cowering fearfully. Talohn raised his weapon.

"Please don't!" The man pleaded, dropping to his knees.

Talohn pressed the rifle to his head.

"I have a wife! A child!"

Talohn frowned. Despite his loyalty to the Empire, he could not pull the trigger. Despite everything he had said about morals, he could not do it.

This man could be me, he thought softly.

Don't be foolish. You've been through much more than him. He would have broken long ago, another, darker voice said to him.

How can you be sure?

He's cowering in a corner, said the voice matter-of-factly.

Talohn grunted. The voice was right. The man was a coward. He deserves to die. His comrades were getting slaughtered and he was huddling in a corner. How would he defend his family if he did nothing?

A flurry of rage flew through Talohn. He pulled the trigger and the man's head seemed to explode in a burst of blood. He pulled the trigger again. And again. And again. Yet the fury would not be quenched. He charged around the trench, putting a bullet in every writhing body, every crawling cripple. It was only when his clip emptied that the dark rage inside him disappeared. He stood in the centre of the mass of bodies, chest heaving and heart thumping.

He cast the disapproval emanating from nearly every part of his brain from his mind and decided to catch up with the squad.
TRP/PFC Atoll/3SQD/1PLT/1COM/1BAT/1RGT/VEA/VE
[ES1]
"There is a use for everything. Even pain" - Unknown
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"Sanity is for the weak"
Saphira Striker
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Saphira Striker
 
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  RE: HSC 2010 story: Shatterpoint
December 17, 2010 7:36:54 PM    View the profile of Saphira Striker 
OOC:
BlackJack




Looks like we're going to have some more fun ahead. Saphira thought as they had rushed through and took out the ambushers. It almost seemed to easy and in that was always a concern. Like the others, or so she hoped; they would be expecting more trouble and soon.


"What kind of trouble ya think we'll see?"

A voice she didn't know spoke up.  Someone she didn't know. However, she was still amused by the question.  Clicking her heels on the booster she sped up farther and  nearly poked the trooper to her left side.

"Worse then that." Speaking not only to whoever asked, but in general. "I expect ten times the fighting and that brings more fun and excitement."

The trooper to her  left straightened his back at the comment. Turning his head slightly to glance at her for a moment before shaking his head and dropping back a bit. The female was amused. Glade to see the Scout was either amused, or thought she was crazy.

Of course she couldn't reveal on that thought as they came up to their end point.  Stopping for a moment to gauge the enemy, but still out of line sight from them. Ahead of them lay just what she expected. More troops  along a wall of crystal. Blasters at the ready and some paced  back and forth. Only the hum of their bikes filled the air for a moment as their SL rose a hand and they dismounted  for a few moments.

"So, what now? It's obvious they are waiting for us. With that spectacular amount of noise and explosion, they had to have noticed." MadMan stated bluntly.

"Even if they didn't, they probably would have  found out by lack of communication or sensor, if they have one out there." JellyBean spoke up.

A few other troopers offered some advice when Gar shushed everyone.

"Did some of you not pay your brain-bill? Shut-up for a moment." he sighed and counted to ten mentally before speaking again. "Look, we have our orders and some of the enemy, if not most out there have an IQ level of lint."

A few chuckles aroused from some of their party.

"Even so, we need to somehow get to the soldiers without being stuck out in the open with 'please shoot me signs.' " Saph spoke up. Looking back at the outcrop of waiting men an idea crossed her mind. "They can't possibly know how many of us are here. I suggest a couple of us sneak around and take some of the troops out on the very ends. There's more then enough crystal here thats good to climb and I think theres small pathways we could sneak around. Others can distract the main group and take out as many as possible."

A few heads shook. Be it they agreed or not it didn't matter. There had to be paths that no one would notice or think a few trooper would  dare to sneak through.

"Let's  try that. See if a couple of you can find anyway to sneak around first and if you can, give a signal and we'll bust out and in." Their SL replied as they went to work.

"Do it fast. Any moment someone could give us away, or they could find us." Corvin added.
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Author/JRN Saphira Striker/Lotaith/VET/VE
Garryll Gates
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Garryll Gates
 
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  RE: HSC 2010 story: Shatterpoint
December 17, 2010 9:36:56 PM    View the profile of Garryll Gates 
OOC:
Blackjack


“New Republic troops in between their objective. They know we’re coming,” said one of the scouts, then emphasized his statement with a mocking whistle.

“No problem,” Corvin said, pounding his fist into his opposite hand. “Take ‘em from the sides and wipe ‘em off the face of the planet.”

“Right. We’ll break it into three plays,” Gates said. “Striker, you take the left flank; take Madman and a couple of the Scouts. Tanus, you take the other route, take Corvin and a couple more. I’ll lead the strike up the middle. Middle attack will go off first, flanks go ‘round and slice’n’dice. Half on foot, rest on bikes, harassing. Questions? No - good. Let’s get this done.”

The selected troopers took their pick of men and started to make their way up the valley walls. Gates looked at the rest of the troopers, and waved at the senior scouts to choose who’d be riding and who’d be walking.

A minute later, the teams moved out. “Give them a minute to get into position.”

Precious seconds passed. The faint sound of gunfire and explosions rattled across the valley; the main offensive was gaining steam, by the sound of it. “Striker in position.”

“Tanus in position.”

“Good. We’re moving. Let’s go,” Gates said. Scout troopers and the remaining Blackjacks moved up along the valley walls, guns ready. The scouts still on their bikes were idling back a bit. “Stack up.”

Guns were checked once more. “Go.”

The Stormtroopers and scouts stormed around the corner, rifles tracking for targets, finding them, and then opening up. The New Republic troopers were surprised, and dove for cover, returning fire blindly. A few were slow trying for cover, and fell, screaming, grasping at bloody craters in their torsos. Gates slid behind a rock. A Scout trooper stumbled next to Gates, swearing his face off.

“Oh shit, sonova! - oh. Sir,” the man said.
“Carry on, trooper. You trained with that ‘nade launcher?” Gates asked.

“Yessir,” the man said, then balanced his rifle on top of the rock. A second later, a heavy “thump” sound boomed from the rifle, and a grenade flew up into the rocks. Gunfire started coming down thicker as the explosion threw a few men off the wall.

“Be r-e-e-e-al nice if we could get some fire off us,” Gates said calmly, poking his rifle over the rock and rattling a few rounds up-range. Hell, I hope this bull-headed plan doesn’t bit me in the ass
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ESL/1SGTGarryll Gates/4SQD/1PLT/1COM/1RGT/1BAT/Tadath/VEA/VE [RoM][ICE][IH][CCA][BC][SRP][AS-1][ES1][CoS][EW1] {RESx3} [ESC09] [RoT] [CRoS] [AoT][CoZ]

God is not on the side of the big battalions, but on the side of those who shoot best.
For Tadath, for the Empire.
Only in Death...does Duty end
Do not ask why you serve; only ask how
War is coming, with all its glory and all its horror
Saphira Striker
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  RE: HSC 2010 story: Shatterpoint
December 18, 2010 12:43:30 AM    View the profile of Saphira Striker 
OOC:
BlackJack




"I really hope this plan works." Saphira muttered after informing their Squad Leader they were in place.

"I think we all do." Commented MadMan. Moving up beside her as people checked their weapons for a brief moment.

She snorted as a Scout rose his hand for a moment. Listening for anything close. Taking a moment as he edged forward and took the first few steps on the rocky pathways.  The conversation then ceased. All eyes on the prize per say.

It didn't take long. Surprised voices soon aroused as a feint "thump" resounded. Quickly followed by the sound of impact and blaster fire thundering out. Looks like the party is now started.

"Move, Move, Move!" She shouted as the troops jumped over a crevice and slide down a slight slope. Rifles at the ready they moved behind piller like  colums for cover.

MadMan was the first to move. Weapon ready, he ran and shot off a few short bolts. They hit home. The nearest soldier went down hard. Not even paying attention to their flank. That changed in an instant as  blaster fire came towards them.

"Dang it Madman. Couldn't ya have tried to take the first one out silently?" Muttering a few more curse words as they sent back their own fire. Scortch markes started to paint a few particular areas and brushed against one of their Scouts.

"Nothing better then getting right to it." MadMan called back.

"Just keep going. Cover fire and move. They have to hide as much as we are for protection. From their angle, it looks like we have a better advantage. Not much, but better then nothing." She shouted. Rolling out as MadMan and two Scouts moved forward. Ducking a few shots as  they nearly hit them.  It almost rained weapon fire as Saph  then moved and  found herself off to the side. Being grappled by one of the troopers  before  she was nearly taken out.

"Sniper. Two clicks up at .061."

Wonderful. If theres one, then there has to be a few others.

"I'll stay here and try to find another way about to get him. The rest of you can keep pressing forward. It shouldn't take too long as the main focus will be the larger group." The  namless Scout stated dryly.

"That's comforting." MadMan  shouted.

"Stow it. We have to press them forward and help the rest out." Saphira stated as  the one  trooper seemed to vanish from their sides.  SCOPE at ready they  moved. Staying low as  they had to now watch both the enemy and their own feet due to the crystal formations.

MadMan then seemed to leap through and  shot one man in the head. Going down  with a sick thud he then pivoted and hit another with the butt end of his SCOPE in his shoulder. Unbalancing him as the man stumbled  and fell backwards  and over a small three foot drop. A  scream came and then stopped in a  bloody gurgel.  Glancing down was a mess.  A jagged  array of crystal had formed and became deadly spear-like points. The jagged teeth had cleaved through the man like butter.
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Author/JRN Saphira Striker/Lotaith/VET/VE
Jegora
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  RE: HSC 2010 story: Shatterpoint
December 18, 2010 12:49:57 AM    View the profile of Jegora 
OOC:
Wraith Squad


“KEEP MOVING!” came the cry from various sources throughout the trench. “DO NOT STOP MOVING!”

Jegora had every intention of doing just that. He had been in a lot of firefights in his time, but never one as bloody and as fierce, as primal, as the one he found himself in now. He had slung his assault rifle over his back long ago, abandoning it for his sidearm. The M-4 “Bullstopper” pistol lacked the range and accuracy of his rifle, but it more than made up for it in terms of sheer stopping power and mobility. And at that particular moment, Jegora didn’t have the time to worry about whether or not any of the enemy soldiers he had shot were actually dead. In the end, he decided it didn’t matter if they were dead or not, as long as they stayed down. If nothing else, the Bullstopper surely accomplished that.

Moving along the ledge, Jegora somehow ended up on point. He was the first Stormtrooper that the Republic soldiers saw, very often the first one they shot at. His instincts kept him alive though, letting him know when to duck, roll, sidestep, etc. To the casual observer it would have appeared as luck, but Jegora knew differently. These were expertly honed combat instincts, reflexes and drives that had been finely tuned over years of military service and advanced training. Jegora Fal was at the peak of his game, both physically and mentally, but all the same he had to wonder when it would all come crashing down around him. No one could perform at such an elite level for an indefinite amount of time, no matter their training or skillset. It just wasn’t possible.

Throughout the entire process of raiding the trench, the stormtroopers never stopped moving forward. To stop was to die, and if the enemy troopers were given any kind of chance to mount a counter attack against the invaders then they would most certainly be overwhelmed. All the same, the New Republic soldiers were kept off balance by the brutal attack, stunned into inaction by the ferocious onslaught of the infamous White Terror. Glancing around at the carnage they were wrecking, Jegora had to agree with the Corps’ oldest nickname; White Terror indeed.

Sidestepping a clumsy knife lunge from a desperate New Republic soldier just in front of him, Jegora brought the butt of his pistol down hard on the man’s elbow. He heard bones break, and judging from the enemy soldier’s scream it was no hairline fracture. Jegora didn’t let the man suffer for long, though. In one smooth motion he brought his armored foot around and smashed it into the man’s knee, shattering that joint as well. The man fell to the ground, limp, and Jegora promptly raised his sidearm and put a single .45 caliber jacketed hollow point through the man’s skull. His groans of pain were silenced instantly, but Jegora was already moving on to his next victim.

He was dispatching another poor enemy soldier when he saw what he had been waiting for: a heavy weapons nest, only ten meters or so ahead. It was roaring anti-armour fire across the crystalline plains towards the Vast Empire walkers, and it was heavily guarded.

“Mai, gun position, ten meters ahead,” he intoned over the squad radio, his voice devoid of all emotion.

There was a slight pause before his squad leader answered. “I see it,” the cathar responded. “Marka?”

Jegora saw the assistant squad leader nod over on his left. “Yeah, definitely anti-armour guns. Take it out?” he questioned.

“No other choice.”
Jegora Fal
Adept of the Dark Jedi Order
Senior Captain of the Osk Company
Assistant to the Executive Officer
Wraith Trooper


TRP/`1LT Jegora/3SQD/1PLT/1COM/1BAT/1RGT/VEA/VE
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Havock
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Havock
 
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  RE: HSC 2010 story: Shatterpoint
December 18, 2010 9:06:33 AM    View the profile of Havock 
OOC:
RAIDERS


The crystal cave was deceivingly bright. A light illuminated from somewhere within, but since the cavern lacked the typical stone facade, the glow traveled from its unknown origin unimpeded. The mines gave off a strange wind-like sound that whooshed through the headphones in Havock's helmet.

RAIDERS were on point as they traversed through the winding caves towards the central form of the mine. Havock's foot vibrated as her boot kicked something harder than the crystal that surrounded them. She lifted her fist to signal the rest of the troopers to halt, which they promptly did. She had to switch the filter of the HUD to properly focus on the object, when it finally came into focus the answer was obvious.

"Ah, its just the track for the vehicles to go down into the mine."

Skarr knelt beside her. "Why would they use track vehicles?"

Havock smirked and pointed to the walls around them. "They are too loud and if they break they tend to go boom. Tracked vehicles just kinda, stop."

"Well I'll trust you on that one."

Havock turned to her other side and stood to look at Commander Drayson. "If we follow the track we can go farther into the mine itself, which is probably where your entrance would be if anywhere."

The commander nodded and added, "remind your men they have bullets not blasters strapped to them. A few of mine forgot and the kickback surprised them, we don't need that in a fight."

Havock smirked. "Not to mention the embarrassment of falling on your ass during a fight."

Drayson was not amused and more than likely rolled his eyes before returning to his ARC team. The squad continued forward down deeper into the crystal mine. A quickly muffled yelp sent Havock to her knee with her weapon ready.

"Bright, report."

Heavy breathing filled her headset for a moment before the red head finally responded. "Sorry, I swore there was someone right next to me a second ago."

Karash groaned from his position and started to mutter words Havock couldn't make out. She promptly switched to a private channel. "Rain, are you okay?"

"Don't start that crap, I'm fine. I saw something, it could have been on the other side of the wall though." Havock nodded slowly, it was indeed possible given the transparency of the walls that surrounded them. She just wished it hadn't chose to haunt Brightstar right now.

"Okay." Havock switched back to the squad channel. "Let's not get jumpy but be aware we are surrounded by clear effing walls, and we are trying to stay undetected. If you see someone in another passage we take positions. I have a feeling we are going to find our ghosts once we reach the mine itself."


OOC:
Feel free to get us to the mine and let the carnage begin. I want to see action and description people, MAKE IT SO.
Ayme 'Havock' Katash
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Certified Vehicle Crewman


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Bloodhound
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  RE: HSC 2010 story: Shatterpoint
December 18, 2010 10:18:53 AM    View the profile of Bloodhound 
OOC:
Wraith


Shoot, Move, Communicate. The watchwords of every Trooper across the galaxy, every soldier even. The lifeblood of infantry or any combat oriented unit. Shoot the enemy, Move to cover, Communicate with your comrades. It was that simple, should be that simple. This was not.

Shooting, moving and failing to communicate had become the standard, there was no way to communicate, at every moment, every step Hond's body and mind were bent only on surviving. No longer was he killing as he liked and taking as he wanted. He was struggling to survive. For no good reason.

The call of anti-armor cannons roared above the din, yelling angry to the beat of Vast Empire artillery and Republic mortars, the screams of dieing men pitching in for the refrain. It was a horrible cacophony through which Bloodhound could make little sense. He did not like this battlefield. These were places people died and were forgotten.

Bloodhound ducked into a fissure in the wall, some cover, not enough. He looked hurriedly about himself for better cover, unwilling to look down even to check his ammunition. He knew he had at least four magazines left, he ran a hand over his belt and checked the grenades by touch. They only carried a few, the actual uses of a grenade were rather specific and often the weapons were just unnecessary. Nice, but unnecessary. Bloodhound had two.

He looked to the bunker, finally. Wraith were looking to go in, they needed to get in, but it was fierce fighting there. They had managed to close themselves off from the breached part of the trench rather well, using boulders of broken crystal and empty crates that had likely held the cannons not too long ago. Bloodhound removed the grenade, tested it's weight.

Why not? It'll make life easier.

Might need it, do I really need it for this?

Yes.

Bloodhound tossed the grenade up once, feeling it's weight. He shook it. He didn't want to waste it. Finally he looked at it, shrugged to himself and pulled the pin.

"Fire in the hole!" He yelled, lobbing the grenade into the enemy emplacement.

It didn't land exactly where he wanted, but close enough. They were heavier than they looked. The explosion was just another in the rock ballad being played out all around him. In it's wake the Wraith Squad and what regulars there were rushed into the gap, Bloodhound not far behind. This was no longer the kind of fight where practiced combat drills were of any help, this had become a frantic scramble for survival.

One that Bloodhound desperately feared losing. He carried that unwillingness to die into the bunker with him. When his rifle jammed he pulled the Enforcer from it's holster and let the .48 caliber rounds do the speaking. Crack-crack-crack! it cried as he entered the bunker.

The canons still roared, Bloodhound swore, leaping over a dieing man to kill another before Hond himself could be killed; then sliding behind a stack of MRE boxes before he was seen. Concealment, definitely not cover.

So, where are you going now?

I have no idea.

The sounds of fighting as the last two Wraiths entered rose, the ones that had preceded Bloodhound had found cover, those that followed seemed to be left in the open. Bloodhound, peeked his head around the corner of his hiding place. It was utter chaos, the republic soldiers still manned the anti-armor cannons, others tried to fight off the Wraiths, other seemed to run back and forth with neither rhyme or reason.
Ain't nothin' but a hound dog.
Bloodhound
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  RE: HSC 2010 story: Shatterpoint
December 18, 2010 10:19:50 AM    View the profile of Bloodhound 
Worthless Afghanistan internet.
Ain't nothin' but a hound dog.
[This message has been edited by Mongrel (edited December 18, 2010 10:23:41 AM)]
Atoll
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  RE: HSC 2010 story: Shatterpoint
December 18, 2010 12:21:20 AM    View the profile of Atoll 
OOC:
Wraith


Talohn dived blindly through the smoke still left wallowing in the air from the grenade, through the hail of bullets. Luck placed him behind a large metal box, no doubt carrying ammunition. The screams of the dying echoed in his ears, the explosions of mines and grenades and the discharge of bullets as they screeched towards their targets ever present in the carnage that surrounded him. No longer was this a battle of finely trained soldiers. This was a battle of savages. There were no rules, no mercy, no quarter. No one here relied upon their training. Only instincts.

The Republic soldiers were the loudest. The screams of defiant men, as their clips emptied from firing wildly in all directions, was deafening. They had no chance. No matter how many troopers they killed, one would take their place and the wave of white would surge forward. Yet they did not break ranks, they did not run. Something the troopers could admire while the slaughter continued.

Talohn peeked around the corner. And pulled it back sharpish as a bullet whizzed past his face. The soldiers were making a stand. They knew that if the AT-ATs would not fall, they would be destroyed and they were determined to not let that happen.

Talohn heard a burst of static from his comm, then:

"Wraith Squad!" he heard Mai say. "We need to get past!"

"We can't if they're just gonna mow us down when we try!" Talohn recognised Jegora's voice. "They won't let us peek our heads out without blowing them off first!"

"I don't care! We need to get rid of that gun nest!"

"The only way to get through is to charge them!" Talohn roared over the din of combat. "And that's suicide!"

"We need to get to that ne-"

"Shit!"

The expletive was followed by one of the few men with a launcher getting tired of the stalemate and swerving to face the troopers. It was obvious he planned on firing it, despite the enclosed space which would send them all to hell.

The trigger was pulled. The chaos got cranked up a notch.
TRP/PFC Atoll/3SQD/1PLT/1COM/1BAT/1RGT/VEA/VE
[ES1]
"There is a use for everything. Even pain" - Unknown
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Madman
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  RE: HSC 2010 story: Shatterpoint
December 19, 2010 1:03:05 AM    View the profile of Madman 
OOC:

Blackjack

The man's grizzled fate was witness, or rather heard by most of the troopers which accompanied the pair of Blackjack troopers shortly before a razor tipped crystaline structure disemboweled an unfortunate man. Madman, deciding to live up to his name, became distracted by the sight “Damn it, he just lost 30 pounds in organs and bones, now he'll look so slim inside of his...whatever they wear when they die.” He'd mutter on, wearing plain white SCOPE armor as opposed to the elite red variation. Why was that? Well for one, he didn't quite earn it yet, but that was fine, he was perfectly content on blending in by painting it red.

And how enemy soldiers positively bled the color, it wasn't hard to put the two together.

“Madman, get the frag over here, I swear your going to get killed one of these days and that's not what I need right now.” She would cuss over the comm, as he'd turn “Aww, do you really care that much.” where he'd get his answer “Not really, but then again I suppose that would mean I would get to kill twice as many on my own.” She'd muse as the estranged soldier returned “Well the sentiment was sweet, this would be a perfect day if only there were more hostilities to repress. Guess it'll do for a first date, huh?” He'd grin underneath his helmet before receiving a prompt punch to the back of the head.

“Focus, idiot. Alright, we're moving up. Everyone proceed with caution, and I do mean Everyone.” She'd scold the group, primarily Madman for his recklessness but what did he care, he got part of that slick, red, paint job that he somewhat wanted. Personally he liked rust but that would be another day.

The group began to move forward again, making up for lost time as they followed the chasm on foot. It seemed like they had been marching for minutes now, maybe half an hour, maybe less, but so far no casualties were spotted. It was hardly a relief, they were altready due for another encounter at this rate, overdue even but perhaps their movement had given less leeway to any snipers in the area. “Alright, tread carefully boys, I have a bad feeling about this.”
TRP/SGT Madman/1SQD/1PLT/1COM/1BAT/1RGT/VEA/VE/

IronHorseSquad
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[This message has been edited by Madman (edited December 19, 2010 1:04:54 AM)]
Bloodhound
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  RE: HSC 2010 story: Shatterpoint
December 19, 2010 12:37:07 AM    View the profile of Bloodhound 
OOC:
Wraith


The majority of the bunker erupted in fire and confusion. Shards of crystal flying in all directions at high speeds imbedded themselves into everything, including Honds armor and equipment. For possibly the first time since donning the white crap-heap he was happy to be wearing it. 

Most of the shards hadn't made it all the way through, Hond grabbed one of the larger ones in his breast plate and yanked it out. Gasping he looked at the red tip before tossing it away from him with disgust. This wasn't even thought any more, reduced to basic instincts and muscle memory the enemy soldier had forgotten his surroundings and fired.

Sheets of crystal were cracking and breaking, some falling inward, some falling to the trench below them, Hond tried to recover himself, the helmet had managed to save his ears from the ringing that shell-shock brought, but it hadn't saved the rest of his body. He was all pain and adrenaline.

Around him men and women and creatures of unknown gender and questionable parentage scrambled among each other, try to avoid falling into the widening gap in the middle without showing their back to the enemy; no one knew whether to keep fighting or try to survive the collapse, they all settled for various mixes of both. Hond pulled himself across the ground towards the anti-armor cannons.

They, at least, were still intact, the one pointed inwards had a toasted barrel, but the other two still fired down the battlefield. Hond wanted one, if only because on some basic level it seemed to mean survival to him; it was a driving need to have one for his own, and so he crawled, dragging himself across the ground with his arms to it's base.

The soldier manning it was shooting worried glances over his shoulder between bursts, but he missed Hond's form slithering painfully towards him. Missed it or didn't know what else to do but fire. Hond crawled around it to the mans seat, watched the look of horror on his face as he realized the white clad figure was reaching out to him from the ground, crystal imbedded in most of it's armor. He watched, frozen in horror as Hond brought the combat knife down into his leg, as Hond's left hand closed around the man's belt buckle, pulling him from the chair. The knife ripped free of the leg and as the man joined Hond on the ground the half-breed sunk the combat knife into an eye socket, where he left it.

Hond gasped for breath. The urgency had passed and he rolled onto his back, still gasping for breath. He wanted a cigarette, his mind needed to catch up. He was disoriented, confused and frantic for no reason he could place.

Oh fuckit.

Hond reached up with a shaking hand and unclipped the helmets chin strap, then pulled it from his head, letting it fall to the ground on it's own. He carefully removed a crushed back of unfiltered cigarettes from his belt pouch. He pulled out three before he found one that, twisted and bent as it was, wasn't broken. He lit it, inhaled, and for that brief moment everything seemed OK.
Ain't nothin' but a hound dog.
[This message has been edited by Mongrel (edited December 19, 2010 12:38:04 AM)]
Karash
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Karash
 
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  RE: HSC 2010 story: Shatterpoint
December 19, 2010 2:41:53 PM    View the profile of Karash 
OOC:
Raiders


If the outside world looked strange, then these tunnels were just eerie. In places the walls were so thin that people on the other side could be seen and this was causing a considerable amount of panic, especially within the RAIDERS. The condition of Brightstar had caused some tension within the group but now that she appeared to be paranoid did not sit well, with Karash in particular.

“What was that?” Again Bright seemed to jump at nothing.

“There is nothing there.” Karash huffed after a quick look around.

“No! The noise can’t you hear it?” The agitation in her voice was obvious.

“It was just an echo, there is no one there...” The medic was also becoming annoyed. “...Havock, I told you this would be a bad idea.”

“Calm down the both of you, we know there are people down here so just stay alert.” The RAIDERS SL spoke with clear authority.

“We do not have time for this.” The ARC commander was already moving off again.

‘I told them it would be a bad idea to let her come along in that condition, she is not fit but no one ever listens to you!’ Again the group had to stop because of an unknown figure in the wall appeared and then disappeared just as quickly. ‘This is enough to send anyone round the bend, let alone the mentally disturbed bunch of this squad; of course you would be suspect number one...’           

“There it is again” Bright spoke in a tone of determination.

“There is nothing...” The medic did not get to finish.

“Shut up... there is something there.” As Havock spoke she signalled for the group to take cover, which they promptly did.

There was indeed a noise in the background and what was even more worrying was that the noise was gradually getting louder, it was coming for them. The RAIDERS, ARC troopers and commandos all waited in silence for the noise to reach them, as the noises got louder the deeper the silence of the group seemed to become. The tension became almost unbearable, when a single figure dashed around the corner.

“Take aim!” The ARC commander ordered.

As the lone figure got closer the, it was clear that he was not alone because behind him there was large group of shouting miners who were carrying all sorts of different weapons (that were actually mining equipment). As the lone man got closer and closer the more uncomfortable Karash became, as something was not right.

“Hold fire!” Havock boomed just managing to stop the group of soldiers from mowing the trooper down.

It was now visible that the lone man was wearing SCOPE armour and was therefore, in appearance at least, one of the troopers. ‘This is going to get worse before it gets better’.

“Thanks for not shooting, I am Senior Sergeant RK.”

‘I am sure I heard that name before...’

There was little time for further thought as the miners were close and apparently quite angry.
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Jegora
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Jegora
 
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  RE: HSC 2010 story: Shatterpoint
December 19, 2010 4:58:43 PM    View the profile of Jegora 
OOC:
Wraith Squad


Jegora couldn’t believe what he was seeing, but he supposed it shouldn’t have surprised him. In the middle of this bloody, vicious, fast-paced struggle for survival, Hond had removed his helmet and had lit up a cigarette. The half-breed was taking a break. Sidestepping another attack by a New Republic soldier, Jegora casually snapped the man’s neck, roaring with rage that had very little do with the enemy soldiers. There were very few times that Jegora’s anger got the better of him, but at that particular moment he couldn’t control himself. Without thinking he strode over to where Hond was taking his smoke break. With one massive hand he picked up the trooper’s helmet, and with the other he plucked the cigarette out of the half-breed’s mouth. Then, with no ceremony what-so-ever, he slammed the helmet down on the trooper’s head as hard as he could.

Hond was moving as soon as Jegora touched his cigarette, but he didn’t move fast enough to avoid the white plastoid shell that came slamming down around his ears. The half-breed twisted away, and Jegora let him. There was a cacophony of swear words issued from inside the helmet, but Jegora wasn’t too concerned. With a feral grin he pushed the trooper forward, right back towards the fight. Hond stumbled, still disoriented from having his helmet so jarringly replaced. When he finally righted himself, though, he turned and came straight for Jegora, oblivious to his surroundings. Jegora simply stood, ready for the confrontation he knew was inevitable. His rage was spent, and he had regained his composure. Once again his voice was ice, his decision making completely rational.

“What in the nine hells do you—” Hond began to scream, but Jegora cut him off.

“Be quiet,” Jegora said, his iron-hard voice causing the much smaller, much less composed trooper to at least pause in his wrath. “If we get out of this, you’ll have your chance to get even.”

Hond stood completely still, snarling silently. Finally the half-breed turned away, back to the firefight. Jegora gave a tight smile from underneath his helmet and followed the junior trooper back to where the rest of the Wraiths were mopping up whatever remained of the heavy weapons nest. The New Republic troopers were dedicated, but they had ultimately demolished their own position. Somehow the Wraiths hadn’t suffered any further casualties. In addition reinforcements were beginning to cross the trench at various points, stormtroopers and standard troopers alike, ensuring that the sections of the trench that had already been cleared wouldn’t fall back under enemy control. The result was a slight lull in the firefight, at least relative to the brutal chaos that had come before.

When Hond and Jegora rejoined the Wraiths, Marka was talking to Mai. “We need to descend,” he was saying.

Mai nodded. “More and more New Republic troopers are flooding the bottom levels,” the Wraith squad leader said. “They’re starting to take potshots.”

“Split up into two fire teams?” Marka inquired. Once again Mai nodded her assent.

“Jeg, take Atoll, Baptiste, and Cassus,” Mai ordered after a moment. “Set ropes, rappel down there, and clean them out. Understand? We’ll join you at the end of the trench.”

There was a slight pause. “I want Hond too,” Jegora intoned after a moment.

Mai looked at Jegora for a long time, and Jegora could imagine the glare she wore underneath her helmet. “Fine,” she spat finally. “Get to it.”
Jegora Fal
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Havock
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Havock
 
[VE-ARMY] 1st Lieutenant
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Post Number:  1071
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  RE: HSC 2010 story: Shatterpoint
December 19, 2010 7:02:08 PM    View the profile of Havock 
OOC:
RAIDERS


For a brief moment the world slowed to a near halt. Havock saw the emblem on the SCOPE armor, she could see the miners screaming in mute tones behind him as they pursued the poor trooper, she could feel her voice as it resonated through her vocal cords giving the command to hold fire, as though it all happened at less than half speed. Then in an instant it all returned rapidly to normal speed.

Havock grabbed RK and threw him behind her in the firing line. "Stay down, until we can get you a weapon."

"Are they carrying...pitchforks?" Skarr sounded like he was about to burst out laughing.

Commander Drayson pushed his way to the front. "Permission to fire, Lieutenant?"

"They have hammers and torches, and these damn new rifles don't have a stun setting." She glanced down at the machine gun and looked back to see one of the commando's passing a reserve rifle up to RK.

"Those hammers hurt when they crash your skull in too. Orders, need them now Lieutenant."

Time slowed just slightly yet again. She was about to order her men to fire into a crowd of civilians, even if they were pissed off civilians hell bent on suicide by stormtrooper squad. "Try to hit non-vital areas if you can, frak, fire at will."

The bullets flew through the air at the miners. They quickly dispersed in way. Many fell from wounds while others seemed to attempt to climb the walls by pure instinct to get away from the spray of fire, the final larger group continued to run unimpeded by the death before them. They ran and slammed into the first column of troopers including Havock, sending her flying to the ground in a heap.

She rolled and kicked the feet out from under a nearby miner. Her eyes scanning the rest of the squad doing much of the same hand-to-hand style fighting.
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