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ComNet > Stormtrooper Corps > Archived Specialty Storynet > Raiders' Squad specialty Stories
 
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Topic:  Raiders' Squad specialty Stories
Rogueboy
ComNet Member
 
Rogueboy
 
[VE-ARMY] Lance Corporal
 
Post Number:  573
Total Posts:  2089
Joined:  Dec 2005
Status:  Offline
  RE: Raiders' Squad specialty Stories
October 30, 2006 12:12:20 AM    View the profile of Rogueboy 
Precision Range Shooting

       

I opened my eyes, slowly and saw the gray ceiling of what was the bunkhouse, I looked at my watch it read; 02:00 I still had four hours until I had to get up, I looked around at the rows of bunks filled with troopers like me. I was assigned the bottom bunk and to be honest I preferred it. I closed my eyes and drifted back to sleep.

Once again I was in the arena, my faithful short sword in my hand. A gate at the other side of the arena opens up, two men come running out in full chain mail swords in their hands, they are heading towards me. I look down, my member stares back at me, I look back up and grin, even if I'm going to die I may get the satisfaction of scaring them. I charge, we meet in the middle of the arena, I dodge the first blow which was aimed at decapitating my head, I went low and made a slash at his knee it glanced off his kneepad. I get myself into position, one hand on my sword, the other outstretched to balance me as much as possible, I slowly back up, attacking is suicide, the ball is in their court they need to make the first move. I quickly glance over my shoulder to gauge the distance I have until the wall, they took that moment to attack, my situation was hopeless the first blow came in the form of a slash aimed at my stomach, I used my sword to make it glance off, I than pressed the attack and dug my sword in the man's exposed throat. This was a fatal move as I wasn't able to pull out my sword fast enough to stop the other guy from burying his sword in my gut. I slowly let go of my sword, and fell back on my backside, I see my sword still buried in the man's neck as he collapses onto his kneed and than face down, I look at my stomach and watch how the blood flows, the pain is near unbearable a smell reaches my nose and I realize I soiled myself. I slowly close my eyes, I'm still breathing but its becoming labored, I'm spitting out blood flecks, bastard hit my lungs thats a bad way to die, knowing your trying to breathe but your really just drowning on your own blood, the opposing gladiator picks up my sword and pulls it out of his friend's limp throat, he comes up to me and raises it high. I just watch with mute fascination as it descends...

I open my eyes, slowly and see once again the gray ceiling, I'm safe but yet my stomach really hurts I look down half-expecting to see a bloody mess, but its normal just a phantom pain. I look at my watch which reads; 05:58 I always wake up two minutes before my watch goes off, I shut the alarm on my clock off and wait for Drill Sergeant Barnes to wake up the troopers.

0600 on the dot the door opens up and the room is filled with yelling and screaming.

"Get up you miserable bastards."

The Drill Sergeant walked around  flipping over bunks of the soldiers who refused, and yelling in their ears.

"What's wrong Swa'son? Didn't get your beauty sleep? Spent too much time with your boyfriend last night?"

Finally everyone was in order, I'm standing in front of my kit, eyes forward, standing straight as I wait for Barnes to say what he wants to say. Barnes walks up and down the line berating soldiers for dreaming and other mishaps that we should never of done, like being born.

Barnes pulls out a notepad and a pen, and starts doing roll call, once again berating soldiers for being named, he pauses at Rogueboy.

"What kind of call sign is that? Did your mother give that to you? You whore son!"

I clenched my fists at my side and stared straight, I would love to hit him as hard as I can, but that will only get me beatings every day. The Drill Sergeant always wins, and to contest them will make your miserable conditions all that more depressing, if you give in and don't fight they win because they turned you into soldiers, if you fight back they beat you. I'll take the first option, it's just that much more smarter.

Barnes finished the roll call, all troops present he than started detailing them off.

"Fisher and Park'r, kitchen duty, Demon and Kills-alot report to Drill Sergeant Guando for training, Rogueboy."

My ears perk up at my call sign, please don't let it be a hard duty.

"Report to Drill Sergeant Rastatti for training."

The Drill Sergeant continues detailing off men, and leaves. The men get dressed according to their duties. I went towards my kit and opened it, quickly pulling out his enlisted garrison tunic, pants, and black cap, I set them on the bed, grabbed my towel took off my boxers and headed towards the showers. I got out of the shower dried myself off and changed into my uniform, I than proceeded towards the mess hall, grabbed my bowl of gruel and sat down with my barrack mates.

Breakfast was always the same the meal was the same, the talk was the same, and the people were usually the same. The talk always revolved about troopers complaining about their Drill Sergeants, who was the meanest SOB, complaining about their duties for the day, who received the newest issue of masturbation material, finally who is waiting home for us. Of course we all know no one is really waiting, except for perhaps family, people you don't care about their sex lives, but girlfriends and wives that's a different story. I have seen battle-hardened troopers weep, bitch, and moan because the one they loved didn't love them as much as they thought, when I signed up, I broke up with my girlfriend, just so I wouldn't have to worry about it.

I finish breakfast, put my tray in a metal rack, and head towards the Drill Sergeant's offices to look for a Drill Sergeant Rastatti. I walk up to a building where there are two stormtroopers on duty, ever since some trooper lost his mind walked into the Drill Sergeant's offices and opened fire killing one injuring four and in turn getting himself killed security was boosted. I know the drill and walk up to the wall, press my palms against the smooth stone, one of the stormtroopers points his rifle at me, while the other pats me down.

"He's clean."

They step back and let me enter. I walk up to the secretary who is busy talking over a comlink with her friend, I patiently wait, she takes no notice of me. I look at my watch which shines back a 0625 I have about five minutes in which to meet the Drill Sergeant without punishment. I wait another minute before I reach over and take the comlink from her hand.

"She'll call you back."

I say as politely as I can, than I turn the comlink off.
"What the hell are you doing?"

She screeches at me. I make my eyes seem dead and say quietly.

"Ms, I'm about to go through hell, and I would rather not wait, can you please tell me where Drill Sergeant Rastatti's office is?"

She moves her tongue inside her mouth as if she has something stuck in her teeth. She could call security on me, and that I could be looking solitary confinement for a few days, why she didn't I will never know, she doesn't owe me anything.

"His office is down there." She points to a hall on my right. "Make a left, the third office on your right."

She makes all the hand motions so that even a mentally challenged child would be able to find it.

"Thank you Ms."

I walked down the hall made a left, and sure enough the third door was Mr. Rastatti's. I never knew why she didn't just lie to me, I guess she liked the initiative I took, good thing I find her ugly.

I knock on the door twice.

"Come in."

A weary voice responds, I open the door and make a salute.

"Lance Corporal Rogueboy reporting for training, from barracks three, at Drill Sergeant Barnes request. Sir!"

The Drill Sergeant stands up and makes a lazy salute, he sits down and lights up a cigarette.

"Training eh? Do you know what we are going to brush up on?"

I shake my head in the negative, and I awaken the beast. Rastatti walks up to me and brings his fist into my stomach. I fall to my knees and hold my gut and start trying to breathe, he knocked the wind out of me.

"When I ask you a question you will respond with an answer followed by Drill Sergeant Sir! Are we clear?"

I respond immediately, if only to save my miserable self.

"Yes, Drill Sergeant Sir!"

"Hot damn, we got ourselves a trooper! I specialize in sniping, and since I am so generous I will be passing on my knowledge of the sniper to you, isn't that right Lance Corporal?"

I know how he likes it. I raise myself to my feet and snap back into attention.
"Yes, Drill Sergeant Sir!"

"Sweet Mothma and doggy style! I'm starting to like you trooper, now get your ass at shooting range four, now. I will be there as soon as I finish my coffee."

I make a salute, which he returns, I turn around to open his door and as I am about to walk out he gives me a swift kick to the rear. I get out of there at a trot.

I trot across the green fields where other troopers are performing the drop, crawl maneuver. Where the Drill Sergeant fires a shot into the air, the squad than drops to their stomachs, they than have to crawl with their guns nestled in between their arms, towards the nearest cover. I trot past and take a whiff of the air, still morning fresh, not yet contaminated with the smell of the millions of rounds we fire off per day. The sun of Tadath finally starts rising, and I reach the shooting range just in time to sit down and watch it, this is perhaps one of the greatest joys in my life at this time. The sun rises ever so slowly, as if deciding it should wake up now or go back to bed, and the sky if filled with a variation of pink, red, and orange, its beautiful.

    I hear a small keening sound, and I dread it, I know what it symbolizes; the Drill Sergeant is on his way. I look at the direction from where I think I hear it, and sure enough there is a standard military speeder, coming ever closer. It stops perhaps two feet away from me the engine is turned off, and Rastatti hops out. I stand up and salute him, he returns the salute and surveys the shooting range, staring at the markers that symbolize every ten meters all the way until four hundred and fifty meters. The Drill Sergeant reaches into the speeder and pulls out a small box of data cubes and sorts through them talking quietly to himself

"Humans...Twi'leks...Wookies...Ewoks...Jawa...How about all of them?"

I don't say anything, I know when a man is rambling to himself. Rastatti grabs a few data cubes and  presses them into my hand  and than he grabs five holo-cubes.

"I want you to put a holo-cube every forty meters, and space them out make it quick will ya."

I inwardly groaned, but didn't let him see my displeasure.

"Yes, Drill Sergeant Sir!"

I sprint as fast as I can, running straight at first but soon running in a zigzag pattern. I run the two hundred meters and back, now I'm out of breath and my breathing is ragged. I return and stand straight awaiting my next order. Rastatti reaches into the speeder and pulls out what appears to be a one-shot slugthrower rifle with a scope.

"This is a slugthrower rifle, it is a one-shot reload rifle, and will be the worst sniper you will ever find in the field, this is why you must train with it."

The Drill Sergeant tosses the rifle at me, I catch it and wait for him to continue, he reaches into the speeder and pulls out a box of slugs.

"These are not your average slugs, if they were the holographs would never record a hit. These have a specialized tip, which when piercing a holograph will record a hit. I want you to take these slugs, and this rifle, find some cover and I want you to disarm the armed holographs, than disable and kill these holographs."

So saying the Drill Sergeant pressed a button and the holographs turned on. I looked around, there wasn't much for cover, a tree with wide branches, a stand of bushes, and some tall grass. I opened my tunic and stuck the shells in it, I than zipped it up, rested my rifle on two branches of the tree than hoisted myself up after it. I wended my way up and through the tree until I was near the trunk, able to see towards the holographs. I unzipped my tunic and opened the box, grabbing a handful of shells I stuffed them in my pockets, taking out one I opened the chamber and dropped the shell in, closing the chamber I awaited for the Drill Sergeant.

"Alright, trooper, I want you to start at the closest range and work your way to the longest. Remember as a sniper you take long slow breaths, be sure to gauge the distance of your enemy accurately, take the wind into effect, lucky for you this morning there hardly is any wind, do not forget to add these elements into your scope, and most importantly sniping is a patient game, you only have one shot to kill the leader of the squad, if you mess it up there is a chance you will not live to see me get old. I have seen many a sniper rush his shot, and instead of killing the commander of a squad, they kill a private, the commander of the squad than calls in an air or artillery strike, and I'm stuck trying to explain to my superiors why that man was stupid. Take aim at your first target."

The first objective was a human who stood still on the twenty meter marker, a rocket launcher cradled over his shoulder. Rastatti was watching the holograph through a pair of macrobinoculars.

"I want you to disarm him, maggot."

"Yes, Drill Sergeant Sir!"

I yelled, and rotated the dial on the scope to match the distance. I'm looking through the scope which is in the form of a plus sign and I rove over the target. The target was your average human, slightly more than a meter and a half tall, dark cropped hair, pale skin from living in an urban city, he was blinking, carrying a rocket launcher that took up both his hands, and was ideal for disarming. I slow my breathing and take my time, I wait a few seconds, as I feel something building in my stomach, I burp, not a belch but a burp. I wait until the discomfort passes and I feel confident I can take my shot without a disturbance. I fire. The sound of the muzzle blast cracked across the relative peace of the firing range.

"Any fool could hit that, now decide whether a rocket soldier would have any information, here is where you decide whether you should disable him or kill him. Remember you are a lone sniper, you can not disable them all. If you impress me by the end of this training I have a surprise for you."

I think to myself, I'm not entirely sure how the Rebels work, but rocket troops in the Imperial army doesn't hold any special rank or privileges. I reload my rifle, careful not to drop the precious slug, once again I take aim and fire the slug. The holograph puts a hand over the bullet hole which went through his heart, he crumples on the floor and make realistic moans, he also twitches, eventually both activities cease. I reload my rifle once more and look through the scope to the second target, it it a brown Wookie, every once in a while it's massive head would lean back and led out a roar, that would send a shiver down my spine.

"I want you to make an introduction of these ugly beast's brains and the grass got it?"

"Yes, Drill Sergeant Sir!"

Once again I have to adjust the dial so that my slug will hit right in the middle of my plus sign. I wait, this is what the field manual said about pattern recognition, I started counting the time interval, before it would roar. one...two...three...four...five...six...sev...roar! I did this perhaps five times. I noticed my Drill Sergeant was once again watching the target with his macrobinoculars, one...two...three...four...five...six...sev...Boom! The slug pierced through the Wookie's mouth, and bits of bone and brain matter landed on the grass a few feet away from the corpse, which landed on its back.

"Nice shot, there trooper."

"Thank you, Drill Sergeant Sir!"

"Don't get cocky on me, son. You see that Twi'lek with the overly long leku?"

I look through my scope and spot the next target a blue tall Twi'lek carrying a pistol, and a commanders hat.

"Yes, Drill Sergeant Sir!"

"Well that son of a bitch is a rebel leader, now remember this is a simulation and that would be a stereotypical commander to get even the dumbest troopers to realize this. I want you to disable him. Leave him able to talk."

"Yes, Drill Sergeant Sir!"

That line was starting to really feel lame, even on my tongue. I looked at the blue figure, and was picking a spot in which to disable him. The leg? No, he could still fire back, the arm? No, he could still run away. I blink, aim and fire. The holograph of the Twi'lek reaches for it's right pelvis as it falls to the floor screaming.

"Nice picking Lance Corporal, I would of aimed a little more to the right, just to let the bastard know he's screwed. Next we got ourselves a stubborn Jawa, show him what scavengers do in our Empire. Take out one of his glowing eyes."

I slowly reload my slugthrower, the screams of the Twi'lek are constant, and slightly distractive, but I know conditions in a real battle would be more frantic and that I would not be in the comfort that I am in now. I raise the scope to my eye, the Jawa is rocking it's head back and forth at a seemingly constant rate, I ease my finger onto the trigger and pause, a realization has struck me. I look at the dial and begin to adjust it. Almost forgot, almost failed, can't let that happen, I wait until the Jawa's head is down and it raises it, almost as if it is praying, it seems undisturbed by the Twi'leks screaming, unlike me it is nerve wracking. I squeeze the trigger and one of the golden orbs seem to vanish, and be replaced with blood, the Jawa falls to the floor.

"Alright your next target is an Ewok you see the little bugger standing two hundred meters over there?"

"Yes, Drill Sergeant Sir!"

"Well you see that little stick he is holding up? I want you to take that out of his hand, notice how it gets thicker the closer it is to his hand, its a stabbing weapon. I want him to drop it, got it or you can disable him if you do not think you could take the shot, got it?"

"Yes, Sir Drill Sergeant!"

I noticed how he let that slide, I readjusted my scope for the distance, slid another slug into the chamber and looked over my target. It was your standard Ewok with gray fur, a little leather cap on its head, and a short thin stick. There was no way I would be able to hit the stick at this range, so I aimed at the next best target according to Rastatti; it's genitals. I slowly squeezed the trigger and a howl of pain that seemed to drown out the Twi'leks cries answered, it fell into a muddled heap on the floor.

"B E A Utiful shot Lance Corporal, damn but it makes me proud. I have a surprise for you."

So saying Rastatti heads towards the speeder and rummages in the back of it.

"Alright you sack of shit, its show time."

Rastatti pulled a big brown bag, and dropped it. The sack moved, Rastatti untied the string and a human figure emerged, tied up.

"This here former trooper is a rebel spy, he was found in your barracks. You have the honour of killing him."

I knew the trooper, I sat many mornings next to him talking about his previous life, the life we all used to have. If his story is true, than back home he has a wife, that he knows is faithful she lives with his family, and his brother keeps an eye on her. I personally believed his brother was screwing her behind his back but thats not my problem. The man's eyes open wide with recognition, he was a handsome man, stout, blue eyes, brown cropped hair, he was going to ask his girlfriend to marry him. So much promise yet dumb enough to be a trooper and more dumb still to be a spy.

"Remember Lance Corporal, this is your call. If you feel we should spare him we will."

I knew he was lying, the Stormtrooper Corps spares no traitor, and only a fool would believe that, they do it to keep the fear running through the men. I could see that this traitor Salkin was tortured, huge welts and gashes marked his face, his nose was broken, and still bleeding. It was obvious he met the Corps doctors, or butchers depends on how you look at it, his mouth was sewn shut, I guess after he told them all he knew, he would not shut up. In fact if I don't kill him they will probably starve him to death. I had made up my mind, I lowered myself to the ground and opened the chamber to my rifle and ejected the shell casing of the previous slug, I reached into my pocket and drew out the last slug that was in my pocket. I realize now that it was really weird that I had as many slugs as I would need, almost as if fate decreed I should put down a barracks mate of mine. He was more of a barracks mate, I remember one time while we were on leave, he went into a bar looking for a good time and met the acquaintances of two prostitutes, we took them to a cheap hotel, and I will always remember this because we shared a hotel room. I lucked out and had the bed, meanwhile he had to make the best situation using the bathroom, he accidentally left the door open. As me and my prostitute were finishing up I let out a huge fart, I will always recall the look of horror on her face, I didn't care she was a prostitute after all, I remember how he came in the room holding his pistol and staring wildly at the room. I asked him.

"What's wrong?"

He looked at me bewildered. "I could of swore I just heard a grenade go off."

All this flashed through my mind as I reloaded my rifle and snapped it shut. There is just something men should not do, and that is pledge an oath they do not uphold. I point the slugthrower at his forehead, his eyes are looking up at me pleading, he tries to talk but all he could do are let out these pitiful moans. I say to him, but it was really more for me.

"I'm doing you a favour."

I squeeze the trigger, the hammer cracks down on the end of the slug the bullet fires out and tears through skin, than bone, I watch this as time seems to slow down. There is splash back from the gaping hole in his head, and my uniform gets sprayed in blood. I feel like tears a creeping out but I hold them in, my stomach does not feel good, and it feels like it is bubbling. Rastatti turns to me.

"Well you killed him, so I want you to take care of him, bring him to the morgue."

Rastatti enters the speeder and starts the engine.

"I'm going to pass on my report of todays training to the higher ups, they may see some promise in your or some other nerf shit. Have fun with the march back to base, be sure to bring your friend."

Rastatti starts off heading towards base. I curse at him as I approach the body of Salkin former trooper of the Vast Empire Stormtrooper Corps, I fall to my knees as I let go of the tears, I believe that he had a girl back home he loved, a brother he trusted, and parents that were proud of him. I vomit in the grass and think about the injustices of life.

After about an hour I stand up, strong again, my moment of weeping is over and I notice that the body has an odour, because Salkin soiled himself, just like I had in my dream, I pick him up and hoisted him onto my shoulder, he was small compared to me. I stared the walk back to camp with one thought in my head.

This is going to be one hell of a story to talk around breakfast tomorrow.
 
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Raiders
Faithful To The End
He will give them death, and they will love him for it -Gladiator

TRP/LCPL_Rogueboy/3SQD/1PLT/1COM/1BAT/1RGT/VEA/VE [LoR][ES-FirstClass][CDS]
Preditor
ComNet n00b
 
Preditor
 
[VE-ARMY] Private First Class
 
Post Number:  17
Total Posts:  29
Joined:  Oct 2006
Status:  Offline
  RE: Raiders' Squad specialty Stories
November 7, 2006 12:39:25 AM    View the profile of Preditor 
Combat Engineering
1. Basic Electronics/Wiring

Preditor was one of the last to arrive, he had gotten lost along the corridors of the academy. Though he had spent months here going through basic training the vast size of the compound still had many areas he didn't or wasn't allowed to go to. As he walked into the classroom mouths dropped, they were not wearing their armor for this instruction so his reptilian features were clearly visible.

Walking up to the Sergeant standing in the front of the room Preditor looked down and started to speak, "Sergeant, this one is looking for Combat Engineer room?"  The instructor took a brief second looking him up and down; the Barabel's stature was the complete opposite of him. Sergeant Drake had thinning blond hair which was just about on the verge of going grey, his stomach was somewhat portly form and he bore a small frame.

Trying to sound gruff Drake answered "Yes Private, now take your seat!!" The Barabel nodded while grunting and turned around, his tail barely missing the trash can beside the desk. Drake let out a tiny sigh of relief when Preditor sat in his chair with his tail sticking out the back, What's the empire coming to these days letting creatures like that join our ranks he thought while shaking his head in disgust.

The Barabel glanced around the room looking at his classmates; there were about five Humans, two Zabraks, and a Bothan. Attendance was low for this class as making things didn't appeal to everyone, but to this hulking creature it meant constructing the proper weapons for a successful hunt. Taking out his datapad and placing it on the desk he set it to record the lecture as the Sergeant walked around with a box and began placing items on the desks.

"Today we are going to be learning about basic wiring, it's the first step in engineering items in today's modern world as nearly everything has them in it." Stopping in front of Loctak's desk Drake placed a heavy blaster pistol, wiring, sensor kit and hand tools. Looking down at the Barabels clawed hands he shook his head and headed back up towards the front of the room. Pausing before a holo projector he spoke again, "Now the standard issue pistol you have before you is made up of multiple parts, your going to be focusing on the power coupling, ammo packs and gas chamber."

Finishing the words a diagram of the heavy blaster pistol appeared, the instructor touched the image and the outer layer peeled back revealing the guts inside. A blaster pack of blue charges slid up the magazine well and locked into place. Wiring snaked from the coupling to the gas chamber while another set rested just above the magazine, it was made of copper and would collect the energy from the charge through the coupler where it would be compressed into a volatile charge that when in contact with the gas chamber would form a bolt and disperse it out of the barrel.

"Now inside the weapons there are some shorted wiring, you are going to be using connectors and other tools to re-attach them and make these weapons mission capable." As he spoke the image of the pistol was replaced by the tools inside the kit. "You are going to be watching this short vid about these parts and set to work on fixing those weapons, do you understand?" They all sounded off that they did.

(Approximately 15 minutes later)

Preditor had listened intently, though at first nothing had made sense but after watching the items being used in the video it started to click. He had gone through countless hours on breaking down their weapons for cleaning in drill squad, but here he was actually shown how to open everything up and get down to the heart of the weapon. Taking the screw driver he carefully removed the screws holding the back plate and removed the piece. Except for the Bothan everyone else was having a hard time pulling the plate off because they lacked claws for prying, the Barabel smiled.

Tracing the wiring from the coupling down to the magazine well nothing appeared to be wrong there, but going from the coupling to the gas chamber was a different story. Multiple wires were black and charred, someone must have overloaded it he thought taking the wire cutters and beginning to trim off the useless parts. Taking the blue wire he trimmed off a little bit of the covering exposing the copper underneath, he repeated this process with the other end crimping them down in a wire connector. Preditor smiled to his self as the process was repeated for the red, green and black wires.

Sergeant Drake was walking from table to table expecting each troopers work, again when passing the Barabel he sneered though the expression was lost on the creature. This can't be it he thought thinking back to basic training where everything had a hidden purpose or objective. Sifting back through the wiring that connected the coupling to the ammo pack he found what he was looking for, a cut wire tucked into the back. Replacing it he grunted in delight his tail smacking the ground.

All eyes peered on him as the thwack sounded again; he just gave them a toothy grin. Drake quickly walked over and peered at the Barabel, even though he was sitting in a chair they were almost the exact same height. As the Sergeant was about to speak one of the human's gun began to smoke drawing his attention away.

"What the hell do you think you are doing?" Drake yelled ripping the gun out of the trooper's hand. Peering at the pistol for a second he began to ridicule him about having crossed wires. His face beat red the instructor kicked the human out of the room chasing him through the door telling him he was too stupid to be an engineer.

After a few minutes Drake calmed himself down and began checking the rest of the class. Everyone else was finished so he returned to the front of the class and spoke to his students. "Congratulations you all fail!" Preditor began to growl some and his tail smacked the ground in anger. "This one doesn't understand we did what was asked" the Barabel questioned his instructor, "Incorrect, I told you that these weapons were to be repaired and ready for combat. But I didn't mention that these weapons could not be fixed as they need some soldering and I haven't taught you that, you passed basic wiring though."

Holding up the gun he called the others around and began to show them the technique of soldering. After each member fixed their weapons Sergeant Drake had them all sit down while he took out data cards for each recruit. Stepping in front of each of them one at a time he put them into his datapad and handed them the new card. "Congratulations everyone you have passed basic electronics/wiring, this is your progress card. Each instructor will update it when you complete the steps listed for qualification, you are all dismissed!"

Preditor stood up and left the room, he was making a throaty sound and his tail twitched showing his excitement. He had begun his new journey and the hunt was just starting.

Nice job. Good character development in there as well. Only thing I was thinking was that the gun might not use all copper. This is a futuristic universe, so they might use something far better that is specially fabricated. I don't know though. I haven't done my complete research for the blaster. I'm assuming you did though. Anyways, it passes. I took another one off your hands Rizz.

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TRP/PFC Preditor/3SQD/1PLT/1COM/1RGT/1BAT/VEA/VE/Tadath
AKA:
EFM/CPO/Cyleaf Aehait/Kaph 2-6/Phoenix Wing/mSSD Atrus/DEF/VEN/VE/(=*A*=)(=*SA*=)[BWC]
[This message has been edited by Preditor (edited November 7, 2006 9:00:54 PM)]
[This message has been edited by Kairo (edited November 17, 2006 12:39:50 AM)]
Rogueboy
ComNet Member
 
Rogueboy
 
[VE-ARMY] Corporal
 
Post Number:  765
Total Posts:  2089
Joined:  Dec 2005
Status:  Offline
  RE: Raiders' Squad specialty Stories
January 10, 2007 1:59:14 PM    View the profile of Rogueboy 
Rogueboy couldn't sleep, it wasn't the first night nor would it be the last as a soldier there would be many sleepless nights. Rogueboy looked at the messages in his datapad one of them was flagged priority, Rogue sighed as he opened it.


Sender: Darr-Rann
Topic: Leave

Message: Hey Rogueboy,

enjoy your week leave, try not to get too drunk, in order to keep you in shape I scheduled you for a training with Drill Sergeant V'kar on wednesday. You earned your week leave, the information on that droid was invaluable. I spoke to my superiors about your request, you make keep the droid, as long as you got it memory wiped like I asked you to. Take care.

Darr


Rogue was awarded his leave time for showing, "extreme bravery under fire, and collecting sensitive material." That sensitive material was as of right now in the corner of Rogue's room. Patch was treading around the imitation hardwood floor, Rogue would probably never afford real wood floors in his lifetime. Patch stopped at an antique washer and dryer and beeped questionably.

Rogue sighed and wondered how new technology was unable to recognize old technology, but than again he just got memory wiped. "Patch, it's an antique washer and dryer, try not to break it." Rogue was surprised with the little droid even after getting interrogated, wiped, and reprogrammed it somehow still preferred the name Patch.

Rogue closed his eyes but reopened them when Patch let out an angry series of beeps and clicks. "Patch I'm trying to sleep."

Patch made a low apologizing beep. "Thanks, goodnight."

Rogue closed his eyes and fell into a dream like state, only he knew he wasn't asleep it was just him fantasizing, eventually he would fall asleep Rogue fantasized about the squads previous mission.

Rogueboy was in a trench cowering holding his A280 in both arms; shells exploding around him, Darr and Aph on his left, Leon and Aeos on his right he turned to Leon. "Wheres the rest of the squad?"

Leon had his helmet off, he looked at Rogue with pale lifeless eyes. "Their dead, as are we."

Rogue pondered this for a moment, Leon's hair quickly turned from blond to white, his face seemed to shrink. "If we are all dead, than why would I be living the past that is full of death?"

Leon grinned which made his dead features seem even more demonic. "Because." He said his voice becoming high pitched like a shrieking woman. "You like days where you kill people, its been your life story."

Rogue hesitated, he knew Leon was right but he wasn't going to give him the satisfaction. "I live of my life the only way I know how."

Leon's grin still hadn't faded and Rogue could see Leon's skull start to emerge from his waxy skin. "You know your lying, you tried to live a clean life, you lasted one year, your pathetic."

Rogue punched Leon as fast as he could making his face shatter in over a hundred pieces. Rogue woke up with a start, his breathing coming out quick and short. Rogue took deep breaths in order to slow down his pumping heart, he got up and went to get a glass of blue milk; it always helped him sleep.


Rogue was standing outside of Drill Sergeant V'kar's office, after speaking to the C3-PO unit at the lobby Rogue was directed up two floors and down a narrow hallway. On the way Rogue passed by a number of maintenance droids and mouse droids, finally Rogue reached an office which had a plaque that read Drill Sergeant V'skar.

Rogue knocked lightly on the door three times. "Come in." A voice responded from within.

The door was made of solid metal and inside it resembled Rogue more of a prison than an office, Rogue close the door. "Corporal Alexander Gorjan of Wildcard Platoon, Raider squad."

Drill Sergeant V'skar gave Rogue a glance and resumed his attentions to his terminal, finally he muttered something Rogue could hardly interpret as. "Time to earn that pay ughh.." V'skar stood up. Rogue studied him; he was a portly man with a triple chin and droopy eyes, what Rogue considered the epitome of laziness.

The man gave a lazy salute, Rogue snapped a perfect one back at him. "Alright Corporal, today we are going to practice your aim on moving targets, now I understand you've had combat experience, but bear with me when I tell you I can teach you the mathematics of it. This test is comprised of a written exam and a practical test. Any questions?"

Rogue nodded his head in the affirmative. "What kind of questions will there be on the written, and what should I know prior to taking the test?" Rogue pulled out his datapad and began taking notes.

DS V'skar rolled his bulbous eyes. "You will need to be able to accurately judge the speed of moving objects, learn how fast the blaster fire from the A280 fires, and the distance it travels, and the standard E-11."

Rogue wrote this down in his datapad as fast as possible. "And where do I find this information?"

V'skar seemed to lose his patience. "Listen kid, read the Force-damned manual of your weapons before you use them, you might learn something. Your test is tomorrow."

V'skar walked away leaving Rogue with deep thoughts of how he was so unprepared, Rogue went back to his apartment in order to start reading those manuals.

Rogue flipped through the manual and was surprised at how much information there was inside the little book, there was a complete layout of how much range you would get from whether you were kneeling, prone, or standing, also if the gun was set for semi-auto or full auto. Rogue studied this and came to a few conclusions;

If kneeling with semi-automatic mode selected you would be good for fifty meters with a success rate of over eighty percent whereas if you were standing on full automatic you would only be eighty percent accurate within five meters. While the manual for the A280 did not have as good information as the E-11 it still gave a maximum effective range of four hundred fifty meters to five hundred meters with the standard rifle barrel.

Rogue spent the entire night creating mathematic formulaes (with Patch's help) that would help him pass his exams for tomorrow. Rogue went to bed early tonight in an attempt to catch some Zs for his exam tomorrow but sleep would not come until around three o'clock.

Rogue was sitting in the exam room, dark circles under his eyes, he scanned through the exam looking for easy answers and checking the general direction of the questions. And hour later Rogue was almost done his test when a question had him stumped;

If target A is running at fifteen kilometers per hour and is eighty meters away, you have an E-11, at what mode of standing and fire will you need to get a probability of an eighty percent hit?

What in the Force is this? The manual said that's impossible, could it be a trick question? Meh what the hell is one wrong answer.

The answer that Rogue wrote was "not possible in any standing on any mode." He stood up and gave the paper to Drill Sergeant V'skar who briefly looked over it. "Looks good to me, you pass this part of the exam, now we move on to practical. Follow me."

Drill Sergeant V'skar walked to the tubelifts to go down two floors pass the main lobby opening the two double doors we walked into sunshine. V'skar continued walking and they entered a worn out building made of solid durasteel. Inside was a shooting range with small holoprojectors sitting on top of modified mouse droids.

V'skar began to elaborate on what was required in this part of the exam. "These mouse droids have been modified to go at a max speed of twenty kilometers per hour, it is your job to hit and kill all five targets, now some of these droids are running a straight path, others are random. May the Force be with you."

V'skar handed Rogue an E-11 and an A280, Rogue discarded the E-11, the A280 rifle was clearly a superior weapon for accuracy and reliability. Rogue walked up to designated spot which was surrounded by a small wall on two sides, a railing in front, and was open in the back. Rogue went down on his knee in order for him to better absorb the kickback, Rogue lowered the barrel of his gun onto the railing and applied a low amount of pressure in order to keep his shooting straight. He was aiming for chest shots nothing to risky as the head.

V'skar looked at Rogueboy with approval. "Begin."

Rogue looked at his first holotarget, it was of an overweight man running at perhaps three kilometers per hour but he was perhaps three hundred meters from the shooter, Rogue chuckled and looked down the low grade scope that was attached to the A280, the man was running left and Rogueboy took that into account before he quickly squeezed the trigger trying to only let out one shot.

The target did a double take as the round pierced through its chest, but the target did not die it continued running, much slower if that was possible. Rogue sighed and took another shot this time letting out two bolts, one hit the target while the other missed it by inches. The target fell face down as if it tripped.

Rogue looked at the next target, which seemed to be running around in circles, Rogue raised the A280 aimed and let off a three round burst which was the epitome of a marksman two in the chest and one in the head, needless to say the target died.

The next target was simple a man walking up and down, either his chest or his back exposed at all times. It was a simple two itchy fingers to bring the target down, Rogue sighed this was too easy, something must be up. Sure enough it was.

The next target was veering left, right, ducking, and jumping seemingly at random. Rogue's A280 was trained on it, but he had to stand up because the bar was getting in his way, the target was close nearly five meters away, but it was impossible to get an accurate shot off.

There was a metallic sound as Rogue put his A280 down on the ground in exchange for the E-11, as a Raider he was more comfortable with the A280 but the E-11 is more practical for a spray and pray job. That's exactly what Rogue did he brought the E-11 to his chest switched it to fully auto and yelled out a quote from his famous holo-action. "Say hello to my little friend." And held down the trigger. The first twenty bolts went in the general direction of the target perhaps five of them hitting it and bringing it down.

The last target was a duplicate of the first and Rogue used the same strategy in which to kill it, the difference was that this target was faster, Rogue had to use half a clip of fifty shots in order to bring down this lightening fast wookie.

Drill Sergeant V'skar grunted with approval. "Not the best I have seen, but good enough. I will send you a message on of these days with the complete grading, don't expect it anytime soon though."

OOC: I used info for a MP5 for the E-11 and Steyr AUG for the A280, they resembled the pics of the guns.

Comments: Honestly, I thought there was a bit too much talking going on. There is some good material in here though, so I'm going to pass it.

-----------------------
Raiders
Faithful To The End
He will give them death, and they will love him for it -Gladiator

TRP/CPL_Rogueboy/3SQD/1PLT/1COM/1BAT/1RGT/VEA/VE [LoR][ES-FirstClass][CDS]
[This message has been edited by Rizzit (edited February 22, 2007 9:53:43 PM)]
Sayah
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  RE: Raiders' Squad specialty Stories
February 10, 2007 5:13:37 PM    View the profile of Sayah 
Blaster rifles don't have bullets, do they?
 
-----------------------
TRP/PFC Sayah/1SQD/2 PLT/1 COM/1 RGT/1BAT/Tadath/VEA
[Black League]
SM/Com Sayah/Task Force 1/Eta Squad/2nd Platoon/Red Company/1st Battalion/KBcC Helsa/OFF/Army/RDA(L)

"And we are here as on a darkling plain
Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight,
Where ignorant armies clash by night."

"We're all dying. Promise yourselves you'll be the last to go"
Aeos
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  RE: Raiders' Squad specialty Stories
February 10, 2007 5:32:42 PM    View the profile of Aeos 
No, they have blasts

 
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TRP/SGT_Aeos/3SQD/1PLT/1COM/1RGT/1BAT/VEA/VE/Tadath [LoR][ES2C][CoR]
'Raiders' Wiki Page'
CGEMPIRE
Cosmic
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  RE: Raiders' Squad specialty Stories
February 11, 2007 1:17:32 PM    View the profile of Cosmic 
Lasers.
 
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Cleric "Cosmic" Vor'soth
CoT/MG Cosmic/HCA-3/SL/Drill Squad/Tadath/VEA/VE
[OPE][OTH][OPA][EW1][CDS][IH][GS][LM][SoS][CRoM][CoH][PoC][MSM][SCP][SoA][IOC]
-----------------------
Cleric "Cosmic" Vor'soth
SL/KPR Cosmic/Lion 1-1/Lopen/VEDJ/VE
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-----------------------
jag fel
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  RE: Raiders' Squad specialty Stories
February 11, 2007 2:16:32 PM    View the profile of jag fel 
/me sneaks in


The closest things to bullets...look under projectile weapons in the store.

/me sneaks out
 
-----------------------
EclipseSquad
TRP/LCPL Jag Fel/2SQD/2PLT/1COMP/1BAT/1RGT/Tadath/VEA/VE
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
"You think you can run this ship better?"
"Yeah."
"Well...you cant!"
Serenity

"Did you know the New Republic dont like to be shot at? Worked that out for myself."
Firefly
Darr-Rann
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  RE: Raiders' Squad specialty Stories
February 11, 2007 3:50:35 PM    View the profile of Darr-Rann 
Actually, apparently there is a difference between lasers and blaster bolts (Lasers are far more powerful then blasters). But yeah, blaster bolts are basically energy bolts.

Now all of you, shoo unless you have a raiders spec story to submit :P
 
-----------------------
Raiders
SL/SSG_Darr-Rann/3SQD/1PLT/1COM/1RGT/1BAT/VEA/VE/Tadath [LoR][CoR]
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Aeos
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  RE: Raiders' Squad specialty Stories
April 9, 2007 4:57:25 PM    View the profile of Aeos 
Some edits were made to this story,

Course: Fire Support Tactics
Course Type: Practical
Course Description: Troopers will learn the fundamentals of various attack routines that will offer support to their squadmates. This course may also serve as a sort of "target practice" if so desired.

The blaring alarm's sound ceased as it scattered to the floor. Groggily Aeos woke. Her physical movements that followed from there seemed robotic. Freezing water met her face when she hit the shower. When she reached her small kitchen, she dropped onto the small yet comfortable emerald couch she managed to fit in.

One of the many feats of having two aspiring brothers in the Vast Empire; They spoiled her rotten while she only spent some of her earnings at a cantina or on restocking the kitchen and her stomach.
While pouring her self some fresh juice, a high pitched noise emitting from the image caster connected to her Comm-Link drew her attention. A stern face shadowed in  a blue hue stared at her.
Aeos sighed.
"Morning Racus,"
Her brother returned her greeting with a very stern nod.
"Good day to you as well. You have class in thirty minutes. Thought I will remind you,"
Aeos cocked her head to the side surprised and raised her eyebrows.
"I have class?" 
The corner of her mouth twitched slightly.
"Yes. I signed you up for Heavy Weapons. You have been here for a little more then a year. You did well, no doubt, but I do not want you slouching and laying about."
Racus crossed his arms in the holograph. The image caster only displayed half of him;his upper torso and face being displayed; He was dressed in a dark uniform, a rifle was slung over his shoulder. On his way to another mission she supposed.

"Racus, you can't force me to go."
Aeos casually leaned on her elbows which was resting on the counter. She gazed at him intensely with icy eyes.
Racus's eyebrow twitched.
"Oh yes. Who pays for your lifestyle hmh? I will withdraw the money."
"Then I'll ask Radge."
Racus chuckled.
"Brother dearest got his account freezed for a few months due to his..."-Racus coughed -"maneuvers...in the Navy to impress the ladies with."
Aeos clenched her teeth and frowned. Her mouth opened and then she closed it again.
"Off you go sis, "
The connection between them went static as Racus cut the connection. Aeos let a soft moan escape from her mouth out of frustration.

She was a sister to Racus, Platoon Sergeant and Squad Leader. Blood relation was the only thing that kept them together nowadays. When she arrived on Tatooine, she expected that it would be the same brother that left home all those years ago. But it was not. Racus had changed. He was more paranoid and cautious then he used to be. Aeos understood his calculative manner of analyzing, processing and making decisions, but she expected him not to be like that towards her. Not be the Squad Leader, but the brother to her.


                                                                        *****
Aeos glanced at the datapad in her hand, then back at small durasteel plate engraved with the Simulator room's number. Her azure eyes flicked back to the datapad. It was a small mission briefing assigning her to a squad of simulated characters with a set of goals to reach. Her mission was to help the Combat Engineers fix an broken AT-AT by means of keeping the enemy at bay through suppression and neutralization.  She received this briefing yesterday in class.

Aeos was late that day, for her very first class after the unsettling  discussion or rather dispute she had with her oldest brother.
Grumbling some form of excuse she made her way to the back of the class, hoping some blubbering fool upfront would overshadow her. She was not interested in her military career. She only longed for her brothers, though that desire is losing it's purpose and passion. Recently she has come into the habit of cursing herself  for making an oath of permanent servitude towards the Vast Empire.
Sighing Aeos attemped to redirect her focus away from her maundering thoughts, and try to learn something in the class.

The day was divided in three lectures. The first which consisted of introduction, the second of more theory itself, and the last which was more of a test then a class. A verbal test that is.
"You, the sergeant at the back, someone please wake her,"
Aeos jerked awake when someone roughly  woke her. Hiding her yawn, she sat upright, but the lector's hand motioned her to stand preferably.
"Lets forget the moment you had there, definition of Fire Support?"
Aeos froze. A blank. Rubbing her face awake, she tried to recall any memory of the previous class.
"Isn't that when you drive the enemy away, or weaken them over long distance by either air force or something?"  Aeos cringed lightly at the pile of words leaving her lips.
Aeos blinked and grinned half-heartedly.
"I would prefer you elaborate more when saying 'something' or 'stuff', right, next question. Why do we need it?"
Aeos took another minute of pondering,
"As I said previously, it weakens the enemy, confuses them, gives a chance to your fellow squad mates..........."

More questions followed, though not much. They would a receive an exam at the end of class as well. As class ended, each student was handed a datapad which contained detailed information about the next class. Which was a practical class.

Aeos sighed to herself letting her thoughts drift again.
How....exciting... she thought as she hovered her hand above the identification pad of the Simulator.  With a soft hiss the door opened, Aeos stepped in.

Within minutes Aeos found her self in another world. She along with her fellow troopers stood knee deep in some type of swamp. The ancient trees around her dripped with slime, fog, and alien creatures. Aeos narrowed her eyes trying to identify the strange creatures that seemed to hang upside down from the branches. The few, yet large roots that twisted through the ground were laden with all types of strange fungus that poked through layers of fog creeping about the trees in a restless and skew circle. With difficulty Aeos managed to tear her eyes away from scenery and turn her attention to the task at hand.  The squad was composed of six Combat Engineers, one Vehicle Crewman and two Fire Support troopers, herself being one of them.

For the first time Aeos noticed the three swamp speeders and three military speeders near them. Kicking her self for losing focus she neared the vehicles along with the rest of the squad. She assumed the military speeders was for her and her fellow Fire Support partner and the Vehicle Crewman. Her assumption proved to be correct when all the Combat Engineers mounted their vehicles. Aeos hopped on quickly, but nearly lost her balance when the mud and water seemed to suck her foot down in the ground. With difficulty she pried her foot lose with assistance of her other boot digging the mud away. Not wanting to lose any more time Aeos made her self comfortable on the speeder, Aeos awaited for the signal to take off. She glanced behind her at the fictional simulated characters.
Of course!
She grumbled. They were assigned to her. Part of general training she assumed. Test of leadership capabilities. Though none of this appealed to her really. Keeping the silence golden, Aeos sped off, knowing she will be followed.  The coordinates of the disabled AT-AT was given on the datapad beforehand, relieving her of half her agitation. If all went well, this could be done in six hours.

They drove hard for a hour straight before the sighting of the enemy made itself known by the collection of blaster bolts raining down on them. Aeos swerved hard right, from which the blasts originated, while making sure at the same time that there is cover between their aim and her.
The simulated troopers were she assumed were programmed to take automatic cover as real-life troopers were supposed to do. Her fellow Fire Support that she named Red followed her lead.
"Silent and steady Red, the rest, Red and I will try and divert their attention away from you guys, don't stop till you reached mission target,"
They slowed their speeders down considerably,  going at easy pace which still covered ground however. Slowly yet steadily they swerved in between the collection of branches growing from the trees, and from the grounds.
"Oki Red, you and I are taking a split away from the rest," she called over the Com-Link and took a sharp turn to the right again. As Aeos hoped, the wild fire ceased following her and Red and instead it followed the group they just split up from.  As fast as the laws of nature allowed her, Aeos sped along with Red through the swampy jungle, approaching the enemy from a wide angle at the back seeing as the enemy's attention was totally devoted to vaporizing the group upfront from which she just split-up.


Aeos grinned lightly as she brought the speeder to stop.  Upfront three troopers clad in black armor were comfortably nestled in between the tree roots and overgrowth from which they took aim at her squad. Obviously they haven't noticed that two of the targets are missing. Not wasting her time, Aeos placed a blaster bolt in each of the troopers' back within a flash. At least the fire power would for now give her squad some time to reach the mission target safely.

"Right Red, you head back to the group so long while I go for some scoutin," Aeos ordered as she wiped her palms clean across her trousers.  Red surprised Aeos suddenly when he started chuckling.
Aeos' eyes widened considerably at this.
"Wha the frak......" She wished she could see the face hidden beneath the helmet. She was dumbfounded as to how an made-up simulated trooper could....chuckle She opened her mouth to call him, but Red has already disappeared through the trees up front.

Shaking her head at this Aeos hopped on her speeder and took off.  Running her fingers over the controls she resented the fact that technology has advanced so much. Back on her home planet vehicles were still primitive enough to stick to the ground and leave tracks.

She quickly stole a glance down to her radar systems to check if there appeared any unwanted blips, but as she suspected, yet disappointed, none. For a few minutes Aeos kept fiddling around with whatever detection equipments and gadgets she had on her but no avail. She ignited her speeder and followed the direction into which Red sped off.

She joined up with Red shortly afterwards. He surprised her again.
"Found anything?
"You speak?" was the first sentence that blurted from her mouth.
"More then you think Miss, so found anything?"
Obviously need to do more Sim training, Aeos thought to herself before she answered Red.
"No, not that I could, but we should press on, the rest has probably reached the target grounds,"
"Yes, of course Sergeant," Red nodded.

Within no time, despite the tedious obstacles such as trees, boulders, roots and more trees that jumped in their way, they eventually met up with the rest of the group. The rest of the squad was already in progress completing the rest of the mission briefing. While Red jumped in to speed up the progress, Aeos kept a lookout through her microbinoculars.

Time passed slowly, making Aeos impatient if not irritable. Her knee kept jumping in anticipation for some action.
"Sergeant, I think we have some action coming along, " Red pointed in to an area very far off left. Aeos grabbed the microbinoculars on instinct and zoomed in.
"Six troopers, ordinary rifles, nothing spectacular, right Red, keep 'em busy upfront, lets try the same tactic from before," ordered Aeos sharply as she jumped from the the rock she was perched on.
"You think it would work two times over?" asked Red.
"Lets hope for the best hmh?" replied Aeos mumbling as she stooped down to the ground to grab her rifle.
The enemy troopers were nearing them at an alarming rate, though Aeos wasn't very much much bothered with this. In fact, she allowed them to speed right past her. Obviously using the same tactic twice didn't work, and Aeos found that out twenty minutes later. She barely managed to get away unharmed, and was covering behind a huge boulder which was quickly being reduced in size by the enemy.

"Red, I'm gonna smoke them, blind them, they'll keep focusing on my direction, hit them with somethin' bright," Aeos muttered in the ComLink connecting them.
"Told ya so, anyhowz, whenever you are ready Sarge," replied Red.Aeos unpinned one of the smoke grenades she carried with her and tossed it in their midst.  Underestimating the radius of the smoke grenade Aeos' sight was blinded by the black fog. She blindly stumbled around, knowing if Red' target made contact she was fried as well.

"Sergeant?" they both knew she would already be dead, if this situation was real.
"Shoot the bluddy thing," Aeos grunted while trying to rub out the burning sensation in her eyes.
"Shootin her Sarge, see you on the other side," Red cut the connection abruptly.
"The other side?" Aeos asked, but to late, Red's grenade shred her thoughts apart as well as flesh, taking the six enemy troopers along with her.

***Back in the Class Room***
"Well, Sergeant, you passed, though barely, your methods seemed very vague at some times, and half the time you were heading into a situation with a clear idea of what you want to accomplish.,"
The instructor's gaze reminded her of Racus.
"But-"
"Don't question my assessment about you Sergeant,  but please go ahead and explain to me what exactly you did in the Sim,"
Aeos sighed in frustration.
"I split myself and the other fellow away from the group to take care of the bad guys in order to cover the squad to complete the mission, in the second attack, I tried to neutralize the enemy in which Red had to obliterate them, well thats what I thought Fire Support is about,"
"Obliterate them, not you as well,"
Aeos reddened.
"You pass, but you lose a lot of credit because you allowed yourself to die in the Sim,"
Aeos rolled her eyes, something the instructor caught.
"At least you've got yourself a suicide bomber should you ever require it," muttered Aeos sighing.
"I'll keep the offer in mind Sergeant Aeos, now I bid you a good day,"



-----------------------
TRP/SGT_Aeos/[LoR][ES2C][CoR]
TRN/IN Evani/Training 1-1/Lopen/VEDJ/VE


Army-Retired
[This message has been edited by Aeos (edited April 11, 2007 12:12:50 AM)]
[This message has been edited by Aeos (edited April 11, 2007 12:34:16 AM)]
[This message has been edited by Aeos (edited April 11, 2007 8:08:08 PM)]
LK-486
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LK-486
 
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  RE: Raiders' Squad specialty Stories
April 25, 2007 6:34:43 PM    View the profile of LK-486 
MINOR INJURIES
First Aid

DK-900, clad in white Stormtrooper armor, strode into the Aurek barracks and gazed about at the troopers reclining there in their black jumpsuits. The Aurek squad was coming along nicely, with many of them already showing the deep commitment to the Empire needed for all Stormtroopers. The squad leader, a tall handsome man designated LK-970, was discussing a piece of electronics with the squad's lithe and pale engineer, DK-767. Both looked up at their commanding officer.

The heavy-set weapons specialist, TK-009, looked up from the T-21 he had been cleaning. From the shower room, rough-and-tumble RK-800 emerged, clad in a towel. His task was that of sniper. From the bedroom, LK-486, yet to have a designated role, emerged.

DK-900 looked at each of them in turn in that small room. The room itself was a gunmetal gray structure, with five red chairs seated around a blue rug embossed with a darker blue Imperial Cog. On the walls stood bookshelves, gun racks, and footlockers. DK-900 pointed at LK-970.

"Trooper LK-970, your squad is coming along outstandingly. Keep it up and you shall soon receive your promotion. I do, however, find one flaw. You have no medic." LK-970 nodded, but did not say anything. DK-900 continued. "Now, young LK-486 over there has no other role than firing a gun." He fixed his attention on the cadet.

"Cadet LK-486, you will report to Dr. Opuk tomorrow morning for Medic orientation. Be at his office at 0600 hours, every day, until your training is complete. Do not be late. Ever." And with that, DK-900 saluted 486 and strode out the door.

LK-970 reclined in his red chair and knitted his fingers. He smiled at LK-486. "Good to know our lives will be in our hands when things get hot with the Rebels, 486." He chuckled, and went back to his conversation with DK-767. LK-486 nodded, and returned to his sleeping quarters. He quickly undressed and flung himself on the bottom bunk of one of the beds, eager to begin his new assignment in the morning.

It rained violently the next day. Trooper 486 entered the square building, glad to get out of the storm. Dr. Opuk stood up from his metal desk, and strode across the stainless steel floor to shake his hand warmly. Opuk introduced him to a terminal located in one corner of the room, just beside an empty bacta tank. LK-486 situated himself, and the terminal immediately opened up a program. The doctor gave him a pat on the back, and returned to his desk to finish paperwork. Through the course of the morning, LK-486 learned how to correctly administer first aid. The course taught him the correct way to inspect a patient via the four B's: Breathing, bleeding, burns and bones. He could thusly conclude what was wrong, and address it.

He learned to correctly place a patient on his back and remove foreign objects. In addition, LK-486 learned how to correctly administer CPR via chest pumps or abdominal thrusts, in order to promote breathing and circulation. Upon completion of this, 486 moved to bleeding. He learned that binding the wound to stop blood flow is needed, and carefully catalogued the information of clotting medication. He would be sure to pick some up on his next trip to the quartermaster. He learned how to identify burns, and the correct treatment procedures. Lastly, the program taught him about bones. He knew how to make a makeshift splint and carefully doctor a patient back home, arm to the patient's chest.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
When LK-486 completed his lesson, he waved goodbye to Dr. Opuk. The program had spent all morning teaching him basic first aid, and lunch with the doctor had just been concluded. Not a moment too soon! The squad had an assignment to go into potentially dangerous territory so that DK-767 could fix a downed radar spike, probably blown over by the storm. LK-970 clapped him on the back reassuringly as they suited up. Finally, the squad began its trek into the rainy Talusian grasslands, equipped with their weapons and armour.

After what seemed to be miles of walking through the storm, LK-970 held up his hand, signaling for his squad to come to a full stop. The grasslands still appeared to go on in every direction. LK-970 squatted down, and motioned the squad over. They squelched through the mud. As they approached, LK-970 held a tiny transmitter between his thumb and forefinger. DK-767 gingerly took it, while TK-009 and RK-800 lowered their E-11 carbines into a firing position. DK-767 crouch-walked to a patch of dirt, and began to dig. Suddenly, a net of electronics met his small shovel.

Abruptly, the ground nearby erupted with laser fire. The Rebels had a foxhole! RK-800 bellowed loudly, and flung himself on the ground with TK-009, not knowing where the fire was coming from. LK-970 quickly stood up, and fired towards a small piece of upraised grass. There was a yelp, and more shooting. LK-970 kept firing towards the patch, his expression hidden by his helmet.

Meanwhile, LK-486 and DK-767 had hit the dirt as well. Rain poured down DK-767's helmet as he worked. LK-486 watched the area behind DK-767 intently, gazing at the battle. He had drawn his scout blaster.

The firing from the hole stopped suddenly. LK-970, RK-800 and TK-009 stopped firing, thinking they had won. RK-800 approached the grass patch, grenade armed. As he threw the grenade into the space between ground and patch, a single blaster shot exited the hole, hitting RK-800 in the chest. He gurgled over the comm., and his body fell on top of the patch, closing the seal. Screams could be heard from under the earth as TK-009 quickly pulled his squad mate from the patch. A second later, the ground in that area exploded, clearing a large hole. As three squad members entered the room, they say that the area had the amenities for about ten rebels to live in, albeit sparsely. There was a connecting tunnel, and only four dead Rebels in the front room, which appeared to be some sort of lookout station.

DK-767 gave a sigh of relief. His work was done. He rushed to join the others investigating the tunnel. LK-486's work, however, had just begun. He quickly stripped 800's helmet, and gingerly removed the damaged armor. Luckily, RK-800 had fallen onto his back. 486 quickly knelt beside his comrade and placed RK-800's limbs into the proper positions, and checked 800's mouth to make sure no pieces of equipment had fallen into the mouth from the helmet's electronics. 800 did not groan as LK-486 performed the check, signifying that he had, for whatever reason, stopped breathing. LK-486 figured that the reason was electrical shock.

First, LK made sure there was a pulse. Afterward, LK-486 checked that the tongue was not blocking the throat, and he opened the mouth a little more. Upon placing his lips upon 800's he pinched the nose close and began to breath deeply into RK-800's mouth. He was suddenly aware that bright red lights were emitting from the Rebel's underground base, presumably as the squad fought more of the scum. LK-486 hoped nobody else would be injured in the skirmish. He then pumped on 800's chest for two minutes. RK-800 unexpectedly gasped, and bolted upright. More fire blazed from the hole, and a stray bolt whizzed past 486's forehead, singing his hair.

LK-486 looked up for a second, and turned his eyes to his gasping friend. He reassured his pal lightly, and laid him back down. LK-486 reached down to the medic bag dangling at his side, and withdrew a tube of burn salve. He turned his attention to the burn, and identified it as a major third degree burn. LK-486 realized he did not have the tools to take care of his ally, but he could help. He took out a roll of light gauze from his bag, and applied the ointment to the burn. Having done so, he affixed the gauze to the burn via the salve. He heard one final explosion, and a cheer over the comm. lines and across the wet fields. The rain had finally let up while he had been working.

The squad came back. LK-970 gave the thumbs up signal, and bent down to help RK-800 back up. TK-009 picked up the helmet and armor.

LK-486 nodded. "Anybody else hurt, sir?" He inquired.

LK-970 shook his head. "All clear, trooper. We destroyed equipment in that hidey-hole&it was chock-full of spying gear. My guess is that some hotshot rookie thought he could pick us off." He turned his black eyes back to Camp Eglos. "Fall out troopers! We got to get RK-800 back to base so Dr. Opuk can fix him up!"

The squad slowly filed back to base, RK-800 between LK-486 and LK-970. Mission accomplished!

Comments: Great story! You may begin your next! Expect your reward equipment shortly!

-----------------------
Our Number Is Legion, Our Name Is Death!

There are eight lasers in the universe, and sometimes i control them all.

Medic Spec

LK-486/3SQD/1PLT/1COMP/BAT/1RGT/TADATH/VEA/VE
[This message has been edited by LK-486 (edited April 30, 2007 7:45:08 PM)]
[This message has been edited by Rizzit (edited June 4, 2007 5:20:26 PM)]
Rogueboy
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Rogueboy
 
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  RE: Raiders' Squad specialty Stories
May 25, 2007 7:32:18 PM    View the profile of Rogueboy 
Private Rogueboy stared in disbelief at his E-11 rifle, which refused to fire and was spewing smoke from the barrel. "Requesting suppression fire on the south-eastern side." Rogue said as a he got out of his foxhole and ran as fast as his legs could carry him out of the battle.

Enemy blaster bolts followed him as he weaved in and out of the trees trying to avoid becoming another casualty. Spring squad would cover his ass admirably while he would hunker down in relative safety and find out what the hell was wrong with his gun.

Rogue reached into one of the many pouches of his stormtrooper raiment and pulled out a small compact weapons kit, which under most circumstances is useless because it mainly gives you the tools to open your blaster not the pieces required to fix it should the problem be a major one.

The private grinned at himself; it was a moment of pure fear and the irony of what got him into this mess. After earning his freedom Rogue purchased ship to Coruscant where he searched for his family. Learning nothing about what happened after he was kidnapped Rogue hopped ship to Tadath. Spending a year roaming from job to job Rogue finally admitted to himself that he needed more excitement and risk in his life so he went to the Imperial recruiter and enrolled in the army.

Upon passing basic training Rogueboy was transferred to Spring squad, the first mission Rogue received was to eliminate some brigands who were preying on unaware citizens traveling the roads in the more forested regions of Tadath. There were over a dozen reported cases of robbery and rape coming from this area and a few bodies have been discovered as well.

The suspected lightly armed brigands turned out to be much more then witness reports suggested. Every reported incident stated that there were not more then five of them, the reports were wrong as Rogue could count more then twenty of them.

Rogue opened the toolkit and withdrew a small screwdriver and began using it to dismantle his rifle taking extreme care to not lose any pieces in the soft soil and under foliage.

Wondering what would have caused his gun to spit out smoke Rogue immediately began checking the wires making sure they are all connected to the correct outlets. The private then checked the firepower setting and noticed that it was high enough to be considered unstable. Immediately Rogue checked the fuse and noticed that the clear glass has turned a blackish brown and was of no further use. The trooper tossed it on the ground and began searching through the kit for a replacement.

Of course anything they give you has to be useless. Rogue thought to himself as he came up empty. Why don't I just use my blaster pistol? Another part of Rogue answered. Because you simpleton, you just got out of basic training prior to that you were a gladiator what the hell do you know about blasters and especially pistols which they only lightly touched up on. At certain times Rogue hated that other part of him for it never lied and pointed out the futility of some of his best made plans.

Perhaps I could use a slug? It conducts. Rogue said desperately trying to come up with a solution. Of course you can, idiot you might set the slug off what will you do then? Rogue ignored the jibe and began thinking.

No solution directly presented itself so Rogue asked on the private chat with the squad. "I got a busted fuse in my rifle, anyone have a spare or a good, safe alternative?"

"I got a spare fus& ack!" The speaker was cut short.

"Johnson is down!" A voice echoed over the comlink.

"Medic!" Another voice responded.

"Use the safety pin on your grenade, it works well enough, be sure to use something as a coolant." The ASL said over the comlink.

Rogue reached down and pulled out a grenade and stared at it for a few moments finding it funny how such a simple construct could become much more then it appeared. So what the hell am I going to do with the grenade after I pull the pin? And more importantly what am I going to use for coolant?

The first impression of coolant that came into Rogue's head was water but with all the wiring in his rifle he did not want to risk shorting out a wire. A fan was out of the question unless& the communications technician might have a spare fan, those guys were loaded with more spare parts then a droid.

"Grendo, you wouldn't happen to have a spare fan would ya?" Rogue said half hoping the by the book tech would of brought his entire kit along.

"Hold on Private, I'm in the middle of requesting a med evac." Corporal Grendo said as he resumed his chatter with base command.

Rogue sat in a small ravine with a tree on top which provided excellent protection from blaster fire. The silence was punctuated by random bursts of blaster fire and return volleys as well as the occasional explosion from a grenade. Other then that Rogueboy felt at peace, the forest was teeming with life and while most of it was silent as the creatures watched the ongoing battle from the relative safety of their nests more then one scavenger appeared on the outskirts of battle and was waiting for the corpses of the fallen.

Grendo's voice came over the comlink. "I do have a spare fan, but I can't give it to you what if I need it?" The worried technician said.
"Corporal Grendo, I think me using my rifle is a tad more important than if your fan might break. It is in the best interest of the squad." Rogue said his anger barely reigned in.

While waiting for the comm. tech's answer the private reflected on what had happened.

The squad's intelligence had been wrong or the camp had moved from before the transport had dropped them off and they had been forced to send out scouts to report on enemy activity. A scout had returned with news of an encampment to the east but it was larger then they had been told. The squad leader a sergeant by the name of Grimsby had decided to push on with the objectives and a fierce battle ensued. From the looks of things they were losing.

"Here are my co-ordinates, hurry up and I will give you your fan." Grendo's tone clearly said he had a conversation with Grimsby before he had been told to give the piece over.

Immediately a nav. point displayed itself on Rogue's HUD with a meter gauge showing how far he was from it. Grendo's position was about fourty meters away and at a sprint Rogue could easily cover that within fourty-five seconds, best not waste any time.

The trooper stored his tool kit in his pouch as well as the pieces from his blaster and ran as fast as he could the nav. gauge steadily counted down until it said zero meters yet there was no one there. A hand grabbed Rogue on the shoulder and pulled him down while a bolt skinned the top of his Imperial helmet searing a small piece of plastoid armour off.

"Stay down; they got a sniper somewhere out there, damn near kill TK-407," Grendo said as Rogue glanced over and saw a stormtrooper holding his gloved hand over a chip in his armour and blood was slowly seeping out, staining the perfectly clean armour.

Rogue nodded in the wounded trooper's direction. "is he ok?"

"He just got shot with a damn fifty caliber slug sniper rifle the impact blew him back like two meters; I have no idea if he is alright I think he passed out from shock." The ASL responded with a shrug of his shoulders before handing Rogue the fan.

The fan had a wire sticking out of it and Rogue connected it to the power supply while it would eat away at his ammo it was minor and would not cause a huge lack of firepower. Rogue then used a piece of chewing that he was chewing that had lost its flavour eons ago and used it to place the fan so that it would constantly blow on where the fuse should be.

The next thing Rogue needed to make his rifle fully functional would be the fuse and this would be a good a time as ever to use a grenade. Rogue pulled the pin and tossed the nade in the general direction of where the sniper might be.

An explosion ensued and Rogue used it to pop his head up and fire a quick spray of rifle fire all over the surrounding trees and bushes. None of them caught on fire since it had rained recently and the woods were still fairly moist.

"This is your squad leader Grimsby we are disengaging with the enemy." A nav. point appeared in Rogue's HUD. "We will meet at point Romeo and we will be evacuated, carry as many as the wounded as possible."

The private quickly picked up TK-407 and carried him over his shoulder as he quickly ran, chasing Grendo's heels as fast as he could as the ASL was yelling something incomprehensible into his direct link with HQ. The sound of engines flying overhead made Rogueboy attempt to look up but he was unable to see because of the weight on his shoulder.

An explosion behind Rogue sent him flying, he lost hold of TK-407 as he crashed into the ground, his vision blurred but he retained consciousness. Grendo's face appeared before Rogue's eyes and he grabbed Rogueboy by the helmet and appeared to be saying something but the private was unable to hear him. As a matter of fact Rogue couldn't hear anything over the ringing of his ears but the ASL pointed to TK whose body position showed that his neck snapped when he hit the ground, then Grendo pointed in the direction of the nav point. Together they ran as fast as they could, meeting up with the rest of squad just as the ringing faded from Rogue's ears.


Sergeant Grimsby set up two flares to show the transport ship the location to pick them up. Rogueboy looked around and out of the ten men who had headed to ambush the criminals four of them had died and two of them were obviously injured but able to walk.

"What the hell happened?" One of the other troopers, whose name was escaping Rogue at the moment, asked Grimsby.

"We were outgunned and outnumbered, so I had Grendo over here." Grimsby nodded in the ASL's position. "Call in an air strike, why did you miss the fireworks?"

This got a nervous chuckle out of some of the other troopers but Rogueboy felt exhausted. The distant sound of hovering engines told the squad that the transports were on their way. At least I fixed my rifle, can't wait to get a proper fuse in here.

Comments: Not bad for an old man Seriously, great story! Expect that reward soon!
-----------------------
Raiders
Faithful To The End
Heavy Weapons Specialist
He will give them death, and they will love him for it -Gladiator
Eat a hearty breakfast men, for tonight we dine in hell -King Leonidas, 300
Clearly Canadian!

ASL/SSGT_Rogueboy/3SQD/1PLT/1COM/1BAT/1RGT/VEA/VE [LoR][ES1][CDS][CoR][EW2]
[This message has been edited by Rizzit (edited June 4, 2007 5:21:13 PM)]
joamer
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joamer
 
[VE-ARMY] Private First Class
 
Post Number:  9
Total Posts:  997
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  RE: Raiders' Squad specialty Stories
September 18, 2007 2:01:00 AM    View the profile of joamer 
Fire Support Tactics
Heavy Weapons Training


  Sitting in what appeared to be a very old ejection seat from a Arc-170 was a recently graduated trooper. Covered in a standard issue jumpsuit including a large helping of grease, he almost appeared to be asleep. In fact he almost was, off duty for the next week or more the higher ups had told him. His graduating class was long gone, left early this morning to go to the various squads they had been assigned to. But, not him, he was going be assigned to the nortorius Raiders Squad. Unfortunently they diden't have a spot for him just yet, but meybe in a week he was told.

  Around him sat old outdated parts from his Feeg Liat-Class transport, of course after sixty years or more of service it was mostly rust and pealing paint. Sometime during his long nap in extended carbonite storage it had been modified completely to carry cargo. Thats the thing about carbonite freezing, if done right it can perserve something for a very long time. However, if done wrong, well, he was what came out if it was done wrong. Extensive memory loss, bottom half of his left leg, and all of his left arm was now cybernetic, not to mention he now had psychopathic tendencies. He was still not sure how he would fit in with his new squad.

 
  Luckily one of his old Imperial accounts still had funds in it, so he was able to purchase a good deal of weapons and tools early in his career.


  Resting peacefully he was suddenly jolted from sleep by alarm klazons blaring loudly. In a matter of moments a peaceful serene day was thrown into chaos by a surprise rebel attack.


  "ATTENTION! ATTENTION! All troops mobilize, every last one, including recruits and trainees. Form up near the main hangers prepared for battle. ATTENTION! ATTENTION All troops mobil..."

  Jumping up from his seat he grabbed the various pieces of his newly acquired Katarn commando armor and began snapping them on. Hooking both of his DC-15s blaster pistols to his legs, he slipped his modified DC-15 Rifle on his back then grabbed the EHWB-10 Heavy repeater with its stand and ran outside just as a KAAC Freerunner APC arrived. Jumping aboard just as it touched off again he sat the butt end of the blaster on the ground, even with his cybernetic arm this thing was heavy. Surveying the APC he had jumped on diden't make him feel any better. Trainees a good number of them, a few troopers but not many. Some of them diden't even have E-11s, they just sat around looking scared out of their minds.


  "Alright listen up..." The Commandor shouted from the front, then paused as he noticed the state in which most of the troops where in." Listen up men, a decent size rebel force has just struck one of our training grounds just west of here. Unfortunently alot of our squads are away on missions, so that leaves what we have here with us. We are to hold this ground till they arrive. Estimated time is four hours, hold your ground men! You are fighters of the Empire, make them pay for every inch!"


  Cheers and the normal spirit lifting went on for awile, the few real people who had graduated stood motionless. Luckily the APC had several racks of E-11's, so noone would run out without something to shoot back with, though if they actually managed to hit something was another matter.


"PFC Reistlin here." Joamer said as his comlink clicked twice.

  "Your going to provide cover fire for us, it appears your the only one who thought to bring anything that can provide decent fire support. We are going to be setting down in a few moments, theres a small hill to your left, set up there and wait for further instructions."


"Copy" He said as the APC sat down and the rear hatch lowered.


  Lifting up the EHWB-10 repeater he made his way quickly to the hill, luckily noone was fireing yet. The thing about cover fire is its helpful if you have cover to shoot from, but this 'small' hill had nothing, he was out in the open, and there was no cover anywhere. Setting the repeater down on its tripod he activated the power core and brought the weapon to full green status.


"Men, the enemy force is half a click out, they are coming directly towards us. We have good cover, and good support with us. Do not fire untill the heavy repeater fires first, it can take out alot of them in one instance." The commandor said.


"Great, just great." Joamer mumbled to himself, making sure his mic was switched off. He's been called psychopathic before, many times during the last two years after his carbonite sleep. But, standing on top of a hill out in the open was just a bad idea.


  Orders are orders, he thought for the ninth time.



Time passed, it stressed into minutes, then tens of minutes, a hour later he was wondering just what was going wrong. Suddenly they appeared, walking in almost perfect formation. Something is very wrong, he thought. Checking the range one last time on his hud he opened fire, spraying the shots to the left and right he hoped by some miracle everyone would have been killed. Hitting the quick release for the repeater he picked it up and jumped down the backside of the hill, just as hundreds of shots flew into the spot he just vacated. The tripod rolled down the hill a few moments later, or atleast a piece of it did.


"Reistlin! Are you still with us!" His comlink shouted.

  "Roger, i'm still here, the tripod however is dead."



  "Stay there, when I tell you make your way to the top of the hill and open fire again. Can you support the repeater without the tripod?"

"Roger."


"Good, just stay there, we have some of the squads about to move. You need to cover them."


Spinning around in a squat Joamer held the repeater in both arms, prepared to jump to the top of the hill again. All around him blaster bolts sizzled in and out of existance.

"Now!" his comlink roared.

  Jumping up he opened fire, the servo motors in his left hand straining against the weight as he sprayed repeater rounds in the direction of a group of eight or so rebel troops hiding behind decent cover. He watched as one of the squads made their way to a flanking position, they opened fire just as he let his legs slip out from under him and rolled down the backside of the hill. Peering over the top of the hill he brought the heavy repeater to bear on a group of four rebels trying to out flank him, opening fire he downed two of them, before the others dove to cover behind a rock formation.



A stray blaster round clipped the small power generator on his EHWB-10 Heavy repeater, dropping it as the power indicators began reaching red line, he dove behind the same rock formation just as the power cells exploded. Rolling when he hit the ground he snatched one of his DC-15s's and fired two shots, downing both rebels. Jumping back over the rocks he clipped his pistol back into its holster and brought out his modified DC-15. Flipping the power to on, and began picking off advancing troops.



"The heavy repeater is gone." He said into his comlink.

"Yea, I heard, Your two o'clock, group of nine, keep their heads down for a few moments." The commandor said.

Bringing the rifle to bear he began fireing, not really trying to make a hit, just keeping them occupied with the thought of being hit. He stopped firing just as a lone trooper in commando armor appeared right behind the rebels, he pulled the trigger of a CZ-28 flamestrike, engulfing the immediate area in a scorching inferno, it took a couple long minutes for the rebels to die. Slapping in anouther clip he scanned the area, not seeing anyone for a couple hundred yards, he flipped the power to medium and set the range to max. Sighting down the scope he took out a sniper before he could fire.




  "Defensive positions, immediate area is clear." He heard over the channel.


 

    Time passed again, both groups had decided to wait for reinforcements. The moans of the wounded carried on the wind, it made the waiting almost unbearable. He was not sure how many eather side had lost, or was who winning, it was not important at this moment, all he knew now was to survive.


Just then a transport was heard in the distance, it was coming from the rebels side. He sighed slowly, looks like his first engagement was to be his last. Just then a rocket shot into the sky a few yards off, the same commando lowered a MM9 rocket launcher. A couple seconds later a large explosion shock the ground. Ducking behind a tree the commando almost made it, a sniper round pierced the back of his helmet and half a second later his helmet exploded.


Sighting down his scope he found the sniper and put three shots into his right eye socket.


"Hold your fire!" the Commandor shouted as new trainees began fireing in random directions.



  "They are coming in." he said simply, then began picking off targets as the rebels made a charge for cover closer in range. It was pretty much a all out brawl now, he began picking off men who seemed to act in a organized manner. Firing a few times at a group of three who had taken cover behind a small hill, he watched as two of his men clubbed them over the heads with the butts of their E-11's, then shot them just to drive the point home.


Swinging around to his ten o'clock he took down the only other rebel he saw. Then scanned the area again for anymore remaining targets.


  "Areas clear again, they are pulling back for some reas..." The comlink went dead, he soon understood why.

  Standing up as he spotted a squadron of Y-wing bombers launching several torpedos, he slung his DC-15 on his back and stood at attention. A moment later the rock formation he had been standing on exploded into thousands of pieces.




  Hitting the duracrete floor of the Academys hanger he woke up, looking around and at himself, he noticed he was still wearing his standard issue jumpsuit which was still covered in grease.

"It was all a dream." he thought. Standing up and grabbing what looked to be a replacement throttle assembly he walked into his ship.
Private First Class Joamer Reistlin

        Raiders

*HeavyWeapons *




TRP/PFC Joamer/3SQD/1PLT/1COM/1BAT/Tadath/VEA/

"What do you hear?" "Nothing but the rain." "Grab your gun and bring in the cat."
Dante
ComNet Member
 
Dante
 
[VE-ARMY] Private First Class
 
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  RE: Raiders' Squad specialty Stories
November 12, 2007 2:24:12 PM    View the profile of Dante 
Fire Support Tactics

Dante sat back in the aging chair and tried to relax. The springs groaned as the technician typed into a keyboard, humming a popular street tune to himself to himself as he did so.

"It's about ready, so sit back and try to relax."

Relax? When it snows on Mustafar.

Dante didn’t do so.

“Oh cheer up, already. What’s the worst that could happen, you get stuck in drill for another week? Like I said, try to relax.”

Easy for you to say; you aren’t the one doing it...

"Starting in three…"

Dante closed his eyes ,breathed deep breaths, and tried not to go tense.

What are you getting so worked up about? It's only a sim.

"Two, and one. Good luck!"

With that, Dante's view exploded into a bright white light, which quickly faded.

He found himself standing on a dull mahogany plain, covered with seemingly endless fields of dried, green-brown grasses and grey boulders. Directly overhead, the midday sun beat down mercilessly, scorching the savanna and causing heat waves to ripple in the superheated air. Within a few seconds, Dante was obliged to remove his helmet and wipe the dripping sweat from his brow.

There was a crackle of static and he heard a crisp and clear voice, which the lack of articulation and accent revealed it to be computer generated.

"This is Simulator Administrator Program DUR-657. Private Dante, you are to proceed to sector D-14. It has been marked on your HUD."

Sure enough, there was a blinking arrow clearly visible on his T-visor and he could hear the sounds of battle from just over a ridge lined with stunted trees. Looking left and right,

I knew the sims had improved over the years but this is pretty impressive.

He raced towards the designated area, taking cover behind one of the taller trees. A wind blew the sounds of the fray towards his ears and dried leaves fell from the tree onto his armour.

His comlink crackled and the drill sergeant’s voice came through loud and clear.

"No time to admire the view ,trooper, not if you want to pass. I'm spawning your weapon a few meters behind your current position. To pass you must  destroy or disable at least two thirds of the enemy position without dying and preferably with minimal friendly casualties. If you do not meet the requirements, you will be forced to retake the exam at a later date, and the failure will go on your records. Any questions?"

"No, sir."

"Begin."

Two squads of stormtroopers had been pinned down on the other side, and many white-clad corpses were sprawled on the ground. Overhead, groups of TIE and Preybirds twisted and turned in a graceful, yet deadly ballet. On the ground, the stormtroopers were pinned down by two groups of rebel infantry. One, with the insignia of a commander, threw a thermal detonator which blew several troopers into very small pieces and sent dirt and shards of rock everywhere. There was a roar as of a thousand thunders as a TIE fighter spun out of control and crashed into a rock outcropping, showering the battlefield with molten rock and durasteel.

The technicians’s irritatingly cheerful voice echoed in Dante’s ear.

“You might want to look behind you.”

Dante spun around and saw several metal tubes, polished to a gleaming finish, flickering under the brutal sun. He recognized it at once as a Z-6 rotary blaster cannon, a make he had seen and used before, often to devastating effect.

This is the definition of a spray-the-battlefield weapon, or as close as one can get. This is going to be a blue milk run.

With that Dante sprinted for the weapon, hoping to quickly reach it and end the sim.

The tech, however, had other ideas. The first sign he had that all was not well was the blood red blaster bolt that sizzled past his left sholder. Dropping to his knees, and hence dodging a second bolt, Dante rolled and came up firing both his Deece blaster pistols. Blue energy hissed through the air and passed through the chest of the rebel foxtrot who had tried to sneak up on him. Dante continued to crouch for a moment, scanning for a moment to ensure that no other New Republic troopers were trying to get the drop on him, before retrieving the weapon. As he placed the sling over his leftsholder, there was another shimmer as well as a series of beeps. Several power cells appeared out of thin air and fell to the ground in a heap.

"Don't forget the ammo!"

Dante stooped and picked the cells up. He shoved one into the cannon, causing it to emit a loud "ping", and placed the others on his belt. His HUD chimed, and an ammunition coutn appeared on its left side, as well as a circular targeting symbol. Using his right arm to hold the weapon in firing position, Dante moved as fast as he could towards the battlefield, keeping an eye.

The fight for the skies was still raging and debris from ships were scattered over the savanna. Dante found a large portion of a TIE cockpit where he could take out some of the New Republic forces without being noticed and ducked behind it. He let his left hand drop to his pistol holster in case some reb had noticed him, but they were too busy mopping up to keep an eye on the surrounding area. Satisfied that he still had the element of surprise, Dante slowly poked the weapon’s barrel out from the cover, followed by his head. 

The circle on his HUD flickered and turned red as he let the weapon drift over the chest of an oblivious NR soldier. Instantly, he opened fire, letting pale blue energy scream from his weapon's barrel. Several soldiers were vaporized ourright by the rotary blaster cannon, and the rest were taken by suprise, as they had assumed the battle was won. Some returned fire, but the badly placed shots all missed their mark.

The Vast Imperial survivors, encouraged by the sudden appearance of heavy firepower, resumned firing with increased vigor. A New Republic solider screamed and fell, his limbs melted and chest blackened. All too soon, the NR trooper had either surrendered or been slagged by either the Z-9 or E-11 fire. The scene dimmed, then faded to black.
"Fire Support simulation complete. Next time it won't be so easy See you next week."

Next week? Stang.

Passed, I read this before I got my current position. Very nicely done. - Rogueboy
TRP/PFC Dante/1SQD/2 PLT/1 COM/1 RGT/1BAT/Tadath/VEA
Quote:And we are here as on a darkling plain
Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight,Where ignorant armies clash by night.

Raiders
Service is its own reward.
[This message has been edited by Dante (edited March 7, 2008 3:49:15 PM)]
[This message has been edited by Rogueboy (edited May 22, 2008 7:53:30 PM)]
Rogueboy
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  RE: Raiders' Squad specialty Stories
November 13, 2007 11:58:22 AM    View the profile of Rogueboy 
Electronics Repair
Heavy Weapons Specialist

They were trapped; their slicer was dead the enemy about to take them up the ass, it all seemed so hopeless Elona squad was about to become another statistic in an ongoing war. The mission had gone terribly wrong; they were to enter a warehouse that was rumoured to be a munitions depot for Thrawn sympathizers on Tadath. The High Command was expecting light resistance and had sent three squads to make arrests and “salvage” the munitions that were intended for their enemies.

Things had gone terribly wrong off the start, they entered the facility and told the workers to surrender; they didn’t, instead they had picked up the munitions that they were carrying and began unloading on the VE troops. The troops were outnumbered, outgunned, and out-positioned. The enemy had the higher ground on the catwalks while the squad was forced to fight a delaying action down a corridor that they hoped would lead them to freedom.

The other squads seemed to be having a much easier time according to the comlink communication; there was resistance but because their entry point was through the offices on the top floors there was virtually no resistance, they had locked the doors from the workers and had begun evacuating their prisoners through the rooftops.

A transmission came through from Lieutenant McConnald. “I have asked the VE navy if they could lend us a squad of bombers, we’re gonna level the place. They will be there within ten minutes so get your asses out. Red-rancor out.”

The squad seemed to have dropped; they would be killed by their own if they did not find a way out soon. The blast door was sealed and shut and there was no one who had the skill to open it, there was no cover behind them and the squad was practically tripping on themselves trying to make themselves smaller targets.

Corporal Rogueboy found himself in charge with the squad leader dead and the assistant squad leader had lost his balls and was lying in a fetal position on the floor.

“Listen up guys, you cover my hairy ass and I promise you we will get out of this alive.” Rogue knew it was nerf shit but to hell with them, it was a better choice than waiting for the thunder to rain on them.

The squad stacked up on the corners of the door and began firing their little heart outs attempting to kill the enemy workers. In the meantime Rogueboy had pulled out his multi-tool and switched it to a pointy knife, sliding it under the keypad he smashed the hilt down and popped open the circuitry. A mess of wires stared back at him and Rogue wished he had paid more attention to the instructors when they had explained what was what.

Slicers tended to prefer terminals to actually hardwiring a blast door simply because it was easier, faster, and less chance of being shocked to death should you pull the wrong wire. Rogue stuck his hand in the mess and began feeling the wires and what they lead to.

This one leads to the power supply . Rogue said as it passed through the durasteel frame of the door most likely towards a generator. All Rogue could think of was that the wire that opened the blast door would have to pass through the keypad, however there were over a dozen wires that went to the keypad, he would have to search for an oddity.

“Hurry up!” One of the troopers yelled out as he picked up a thrown grenade and threw it back up the catwalks, an explosion sounded off and the catwalks started creaking.

Rogue followed the wires by colour at first but then frantically began just feeling the wires and found out that all of them except two led to a small box like piece of hardware while one of them lead to the wall and most likely the generator, the last wire led to a smaller box that was connected to what appeared to control the door lock. Rogue would not be able to open the box and tinker with it manually and he came up with an idea.

Rogue pulled out his datapad and popped off the back revealing the battery; electronics communicated with each other much like a human brain and using small electrical currents that fire through synapses. A prayer to any gods that would listen, using his knife Rogue cut the wire near the keypad and used the loose end to connect it to the battery’s power source in an attempt to simulate the small boost it would get from the keypad.

The battery quickly shorted out and a small puff of smoke erupted from the keypad the blast door opened about three feet before stopping. Rogue picked up the cowardly ASL and threw him threw the small gap before laying some cover fire for the squad as they jumped through. Rogue fired a few last bolts before turning around and jumping through the small gap.

They were in a small corridor with a door that obviously lead to the outside; the squad quickly pushed their way through the dual doors and ran as quickly as they could with the ASL in lead. The screech of TIE bombers could be heard overhead as they were about to begin their bombing run.

The squad had reached a safe distance when the bombs began dropping and the munitions depot quickly exploded sending shrapnel far distances.
Raiders
Faithful To The End

Heavy Weapons Specialist

He will give them death, and they will love him for it -Gladiator

Eat a hearty breakfast men, for tonight we dine in hell -King Leonidas, 300

ASL/GSG_Rogueboy/3SQD/1PLT/1COM/1BAT/1RGT/VEA/VE [LoR][ES1][CDS][CoR][EW2]

Clearly Canadian!


http://rizzit.stormtroopercorps.com/rewards/Raiders/Rogueboy.jpg
Dante
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Dante
 
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  RE: Raiders' Squad specialty Stories
November 13, 2007 1:48:51 PM    View the profile of Dante 
Indirect Fire Operations

Dante walked into the room, the components of his mechanical right arm whirring as he clenched his fist. The summons had come a few units earlier and had stated in no uncertain terms that if he failed to show up, he might be demoted. The technician, who was the same one who had been the overseer for his last test, didn't even turn as he walked in.

"Third booth on the right."

Your concern for my success is overwhelming.

The unarmoured trooper sat back in the chair, head scrapping the sophisticating equipment mounted above it. He shut his eyes, preparing himself for the mission. His efforts were complicated by the distinct smell of mildew coming from the battered chair, which looked like it had been in service since before Dante had been born. He snorted at the bizarre penny-pinching of the administrators and the strange juxtaposition of the futuristic and antique.

The bureaucrats haven't changed much since I was put on ice...

"Simulation ready." the tech called, and then, more surprisingly,
"Good luck!"

What do you know, maybe he isn't so bad after all...

Before Dante could respond, he was forced to shut his eyes by a blinding white light. When he could open them again, he found himself standing on what looked like a snowy plain. The wind howled, and tugged gently at his helmet as it blew debris this way and that.

What is it with these guys and plains?! What's the matter, feel the enemy can't see me well enough?

He stood where he was, acutely aware of how exposed he was to any of the simulated enemies. He clicked the virtual com, but recieved no response with the technician. Taking a moment to look around 

There was a now-familiar crackle of static and the technician began speaking quickly.
"Sorry for the delay."

Dante snorted quietly, but didn't say anything.

"Private, today I'm supposed to be testing you on indirect fire ops. There's going to be a proton mortar  eight, wait make that twelve meters to the west of your current position. You are to use it to destroy 
four enemy squads and one AAT-class tank. Understood?"

"Affirmative."

"Get going, then!"

You have such a nice way of putting things.

With that, Dante headed towards the proton mortar, using the arrow marked on his HUD.

When he reached the area indicated by the technician, however, there was nothing to be seen, not even an E-11. Dante stood there for a second, surprised by its absence, then tested the ground with his foot. As he had expected, it was actually a cleverly concealed tarp, which he pulled aside to reveal a gleaming metal tube.

"Nice try."

The technician did not respond.

Oh well. Better get back to work.

With that he pulled the tarp completely off, revealing the cunningly hidden trench below, and lugged the mortar out of its hiding place.

Because of the high and freezing wind that had been blowing, he didn't hear the squad coming. The first sign he had was a badly thrown frag grenade exploding several meters away from his position, followed by a few shots whizzing over his left shoulder. He leaped into the trench, pulling his deece rifle from its magnetic back mount as he did so, and successfully dodged the second volley of blaster rifle fire. It impacted into the trench just above his head

Thankfully, either the AI was set on a low difficulty level or they had run into friendly bots because none of the hostiles chucked another grenade. If they had, he would been forced to choose between having his insides rearranged by shrapnel or having his heart burned to ashes by the enemy's blaster fire. As it was, all they did was fire their rifles in the general direction of the trench and mill around as though they were confused.

He responded with a well aimed thermal detonator. It vaporized most of the simulated rebels and left the rest easy targets for a spray of DC-17 fire. As the last rebel fell, chest reduced to blackened slag, Dante emerged from his make-shift cover and made his way to the mortar.

It had acquired a thin covering of snow and ice during the blasterfight, which Dante quickly brushed off. Fiinding a generator, he quickly activated the device and hooked it up to the mortar. A blue light lit up and the weapon purred as it began to power up. Lines of text and equations ran across the bottom of the screen and an aiming hologram appeared on Dante's HUD. The device itself coughed and hovered on a repulsorlift several inches above the ground. To get a feel for how to use the weapon, Dante turned it first left and right until, satisfied, he deactivated the safety and turned up the power.

His radio crackled.

"This is VE trooper TG-6753. Location in Sector G-14. Enemy infantry in Sectors G-12 and H-5. Repeat  infantry in Sectors G-12 and H-5."

The technician chose that moment to put in his half-credit chip.

"Feel free to open fire."

What else would I do?

He aimed the mortar at a fairly high angle, doing some mental calculations, before opening fire. He let one loose and watched as it curved down and splashed to the ground, sending superheated steam and body parts high into the air. He then sent three more shots into that sector to grease any survivors. There were shrieks of agony, then a brief moment of silence.

"Scratch one squad."

He repeated the process, firing on  the other groups of rebel traitors, and either killed or wounded most of each squad with the first salvo. Then he saw a series of bright red bolt whiz past his left shoulder and knew the tank had arrived.

He cursed in Huttese and several other languages as he turned the mortar around, The tank was getting closer, preparing to fire a shell. Dante knew the heavy round would vaporize him and the mortar. He prepared to press the fire button and almost hesitated. Was there time? Was the tank too close? If it was, the "splash" damage would kill him too.

No time to worry about that.

The mortar round flew straight and true, piercing the tank's armour and turning it into an inferno. One  of the pilots attempted to climb out, but was consumed by the flames. Small pieces of molten metal hissed when they hit the ground, sending up puff of steam.

Dante was shaken by the shock and by his near "demise". But the tank was dead,and that was reason enough for him to smile, a thin predatory smile.

"Nice job on the tank. You're free to go."

As Dante heard those words crackle through his speakers, the snowy battlefield faded to black.

Passed - Rogueboy
TRP/PFC Dante/1SQD/2 PLT/1 COM/1 RGT/1BAT/Tadath/VEA
Quote:And we are here as on a darkling plain
Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight,Where ignorant armies clash by night.

Raiders
Service is its own reward.
[This message has been edited by Dante (edited March 12, 2008 3:54:32 PM)]
[This message has been edited by Dante (edited May 21, 2008 4:22:33 PM)]
[This message has been edited by Dante (edited May 21, 2008 4:25:46 PM)]
[This message has been edited by Rogueboy (edited May 22, 2008 9:33:12 PM)]
Dante
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Dante
 
[VE-ARMY] Private First Class
 
Post Number:  839
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  RE: Raiders' Squad specialty Stories
November 14, 2007 8:22:14 AM    View the profile of Dante 
Precision Range Shooting

The barracks, in stark contrast to their appearance just before and after missions were almost completely deserted. A stack of flimsies was scattered over the floor, flying in all directions whenever a gust blew in. The only other sentient present was Joamer, a Private First Class who had also been encased in carbonite and hadn't come out intact. He had at least two mechanical limbs and other, less visible complications. Dante felt an unusual blend of emotions whenever he saw Joamer: pity and relief. The pity was because of what the botched freezing had done to him, and the relief was because he knew how close he had come to sharing his fate. If Gorona hadn't decided to keep him as a trophy, or if he had decided to use cheaper equipment...Dante didn't like to think about that and ,for someone who had watched men burn alive, that was something.

Dante sat on his rigid durasteel bunk for a moment, then got to his feet. Walking over to the far end of the deserted barracks, the sound of his boots on ceramic echoing off the walls, he made his way to a row of angular lockers. Finding the unit marked with his designation, the trooper placed his hand on a oval rececssion in the durasteel surface. The surface turned green, there was a quiet chime, and the storage space's door swung open. Some troopers used their locker to keep their valuables safe, but Dante wasn't one of them. Instead, he stored various useful items and weapons for easy access in case something went FUBAR.

That wasn't to say, however, that he didn't keep some prizes in there. Hanging by a strap on the locker wall was a slightly organic looking, very ornate force pike that he h  Just to its right dangled the head and part of the wire-filled upper torso of the son-of-a-Sith OOM battle droid that had nearly punched his ticket with a sniper rifle.
Speaking of sniper rifles...I have training in thirteen units. Better hurry up.

His Spec Officer had sent a terse message to him via datapad: be on time or redo your spec.

Redo the whole thing? When sentients start sunbathing on Kamino.

Quickly, he snatched the plates of his armour from the locker and put them on . Finally, he grasped his helmet, seeing his face reflected in the black eye-screens. He turned it in his hands and placed it on his heads. He heard a hiss as the helmet seals activated and a crackle as his comlink went online. Checking his HUD's clock, he saw that he had four minutes to arrive at the training grounds.
Stang.

Dante began to run, startling Joamer from his sleep. he ignored his yelled insults, pushing past troopers in his haste. He reached the area with exactly thirty seconds to spare.

Thank the Force.

Dante stood up again after crouching for a few seconds to get his breath back.

A middle aged instructor with the insignia of a Senior Sergeant strode to the front of the group and blew on a whistle. Instantly, all the troopers gathered there snapped to attention, Dante included.

Let's get on with it...

All present are here for Precision Range Shooting, is that correct?"

"Yes, sir!"

"We will begin with crippling shots. Attempt to cripple the fleeing suspect within the given time. Do not kill the target, repeat do not kill the target, or you will automatically fail."

A portable monitor blinked on, displaying 30:00.
Thirty seconds? Shouldn't be too hard.

"Start."

Dante's target, a young human in a flashy jacket got up and ran, a panicked look on his face. Dante activated the 5x scope on the DC-17 he had been issued and fired. A narrow stream of blue energy lanced out of the weapon's elongated barrel and flew through the air. The focused energy beam brushed the holographic figure's leg, and Dante saw the flicker of a sensor for a brief moment before it shut down. The simuluated figure fell to the ground in a heap, clutching its leg and quietly moaning as it turned this way and that.

The trooper heard a quiet cough from just behind him, and whirled around. The instructor stood there, his face expressionless. After a moment, he spoke, reaching for a nearby rack of weapons as he did so.

"Nice shot. Let's see how you do with this."

The instructor relieved Dante of the DC-17 and handed him another trainee's E-11 sniper variant, common across the galaxy as the Imperial sniper rifle. Despite its size, it was very similar to the DC-17 in feel and had a similar scope. This time, the suspect fell with a neat, steaming hole drilled into the bald spot in the back of his head. He landed with an all too real and very meaty thump.

It's just a holo. Don't let it get to you...

"You will now use a non-scoped weapon to kill or disable the target. To add a twist, there will be non-combatants running towards you. Under no circumstances are you to kill any of them. Any questions?"

"What if they're hurt?"

"If it's non-fatal, you will not be penalized."

"Begin."

The Rodian saw Dante, babbled something about not dying now
, and ran. Suddenly, he stopped, grabbed a woman running past him, and held her in front of him as a shield. Dante aimed his DC-15 pistol slightly below the alien's head and fired a trio of shots. The first shot hit the woman, flash-frying a patch of her skin with an unpleasant hiss. The woman slumped,twisting slightly. She was either in shock or in dying, and Dante knew neither scenario was good.

Stang

The second and third shots hit the alien's face, burning through its eye socket and slagging its head. As it fell to the ground like a rag doll, the woman broke free of the corpse's grip and managed to take two tottering steps before falling down again. The corpse and civvi both vanished, and the training system uploaded the next situation.

It could have been worse...

By the end of the session, Dante felt that he had done the best he could, with only two civvies wounded and all targets either crippled or greased. As the holographic corpses faded the instructor stood in front of the small group of trainees.

"Same time tomorrow. Dismissed!"

Tomorrow. Stang.

See private message. - Rogueboy
TRP/PFC Dante/1SQD/2 PLT/1 COM/1 RGT/1BAT/Tadath/VEA
Quote:And we are here as on a darkling plain
Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight,Where ignorant armies clash by night.

Raiders
Service is its own reward.
[This message has been edited by Dante (edited November 14, 2007 9:09:12 AM)]
[This message has been edited by Dante (edited May 21, 2008 4:37:44 PM)]
[This message has been edited by Dante (edited May 22, 2008 8:49:39 AM)]
[This message has been edited by Dante (edited May 22, 2008 11:13:44 AM)]
[This message has been edited by Rogueboy (edited May 22, 2008 9:55:38 PM)]
Dante
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Dante
 
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  RE: Raiders' Squad specialty Stories
November 15, 2007 10:46:45 AM    View the profile of Dante 
Range Finding & Advanced Vector Calculation
Rows of troops in white armour marched passed in perfect formation, E-11 held up to the chests.

Dante watched as they moved passed and felt a curious sense of deja vu. As they stopped, and one took off his helmet, he understood. Staring back at him, with mud-brown eyes and short, jet-black hair was the face of a man who had died before the Clone Wars, before Dante had lost his family,before....

No. That way madness lies.

The man who, along with countless others serving the Empire, wore the face of Jango Fett replaced his helmet and stood as the commander barked out orders. As the troopers turned and marched away, looking for all the world like toy soliders manipulated by younglings, Dante stood up, picking up his rifle from where he had placed it a few moment ago. He stood, brushing the dry, clinging dust of Tadeth off his armour.

That was what he hated the most about the Imperial capital: the dust. True, the planet had its skyscrapers, its cities, but what defined it was the dust. It had been here, blowing this way and that, since the planet had first cooled from a molten ball of magma. It had outlived the Infinite Empire of the Rakata, the mighty hordes of Sith, the Republic, and even Palpatine, who had perished defending his Empire. His Empire, which now seemed unlikely to survive another ten years, let alone the thousand the Emperor had once so proudly proclaimed.

The cause I am fighting for may be doomed, may have been doomed from the beginning, but I will not see it lost for lack of effort on my part.

Still, maybe there was a lesson to be learned from the dust of Tadeth, which had outlasted everything the galaxy had thrown at it and would throw at it. Or maybe not.

Either way, you're wasting your time pondering philosophy. The Corps isn't paying you for that, you know.

Sighing Dante stood fully upright and strode towards the area of the training grounds where he was to be examined on range finding and advanced vector calculation.
In other words, making sure the rebel scum get neat holes drilled between their eyes whenever we go into combat.

Dante had never cared for long distance sniping, preferring, seemingly oxymoronically, the surgical use of heavy weapons. Still, he admitted to himself, this course might be useful for anti-armour weaponry...

He arrived almost ten minutes before anyone else, and was busy repairing a slightly faulty servomotor in his mechanical right arm when the first other trainee arrived. The other trooper ignored Dante and sat down with his back against a pile of crates, whistling a tune Dante hadn't heard before.

Soon afterwards, the others rushed in, chatting about life and what they were doing outside of the Corps. Dante ignored them, waiting for the instructor. He walked up exactly on time, accompanied by a pair of young aides.

The troopers fell silent as soon as he spoke.

"Today we will be practicing range finding and advanced vector calculation. We will use two types of weapons: sniping and heavy. For each type, you may use one weapon of your own choosing and one random weapon."

Deece, check. Wonder what I'll get for the secondary weapons?

He  attached the  sniper attachment to his DC-17 and shoved a power cell into the slot. The weapon emitted a low, almost musical, chime and a scope appeared on Dante's HUD.

"The first target will be at medium range. Shoot to kill."

With pleasure.

A Bothan appeared several meters away and immediately fled. Dante paused long enough to activate the scope and aimed slightly below the holo's skull. The shot caught him in the neck, effectively decapitating him. He dropped like a stone, head still attached to his torso by a few strings of blackened flesh.
Scratch one holo.

The corpse flickered then vanished.

"Again."

This time it was a Barabel. She roared in defiance before turning tail and fleeing.

Dante smiled.

"All too easy..."

The anit-armour round soared from the barrel. It went in a wide arc and crashed into the ground at the lizard's feet, sending molten metal everywhere and killing her instantly.
v
One of the aides walked up to Dante and handed him a slugthrower sniper rifle,a long with several rounds.

Stang.

Because of their solid ammunition and tendency to succumb to gravity, Dante had a hearty dislike for slug-throwers. In his eyes, their only redeeming characteristics were their cheapness and simplicity.

This time the target was a very tall Gungan with tatoos all over his body. It shook its head and flailed its limbs before loosing its nerve and sprinting for cover. Dante quickly scoped and shot , only to see the round land much too low and send up a puff of dust.

He aimed again, this time much higher, and prayed for a hit. The second and third rounds flew straight and true, sending a fountain of the Gungan's sticky blood into the air and bits of the creature's cranium onto the ground. The amphibious creature collapsed like a marionette with its strings cut. It twitched once, then was still.

Thank the Force.

"Three more to go!"

Three more? Oh no.

Dante grimly swapped the slugthrower in for a...PLX-1?

Much better.

"Instead of the infantry, let's try a tank."

A holographic AAT tank suddenly materialized from thin air several meters away and opened fire with twin hull-mounted blaster cannons. Forcing himself to ignore the holographic shots going past him, Dante jumped and fired, hoping to hit the main turrent. The rocket flew straight and ture, and the metal turrent exploded into a cloud of shrapnel. At least one gunner, however, was still alive as the light blaster cannons continued to fire. Dante quickly dodged the badly aimed fire and sent a second rocket flying. The survivor saw it coming and tried to move the tank, but he wasn't fast enough. Several seconds later, holographic flames continued
to lick at the passenger compartment.

"Now, use a weapon of your choice."

Can't go wrong with the Deece.

Dante retrieved the heavy blaster and removed the anti-armour attachment from his belt. He slammed it onto the rifle and a circular icon appeared on his hlemt visot. This time, the target was an AT-RT, which instantly opened fire. Holographic blaster rounds hissed into the dirt at his feet. Dante aimed, seeming about to fire far above the walker. The weapon roared, and a shell soared in an amost perfect arc onto the vehicle driver. The holographic walker fell onto its side, barely recognizable as a vehicle at all.

"If everyone's finished, you're dismissed. Next week, same time, smae place.

Passed - Rogueboy
TRP/PFC Dante/1SQD/2 PLT/1 COM/1 RGT/1BAT/Tadath/VEA
Quote:And we are here as on a darkling plain
Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight,Where ignorant armies clash by night.

Raiders
Service is its own reward.
[This message has been edited by Dante (edited November 15, 2007 4:36:59 PM)]
[This message has been edited by Rogueboy (edited May 22, 2008 10:03:47 PM)]
Rogueboy
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Rogueboy
 
[VE-ARMY] Gunnery Sergeant
 
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  RE: Raiders' Squad specialty Stories
November 15, 2007 10:56:24 AM    View the profile of Rogueboy 
Weapons Placement
Heavy Weapons Specialist



The E-web is a destructive weapon in the hands of a capable user the commander training textbooks cannot stress that point enough, as a soldier Rogueboy was learning this the hard way.

Three Vast Empire troopers fell down; their plastoid armour was scorched, and small sizzling holes riddled their bodies. The battle was over and it was time to clear the dead off the sandbag wall, Thrawnist forces had attacked their entrenched position with a contingent of ground forces ranging from soldier to AT-STs and a few TIE maulers. Rogue had no idea why they were trying to hold this barren planet as it offered no economic or strategic value yet both sides wanted the planet badly.

The body was heavy even though it was stripped of anything of value; armour, weapons, ICs, as well as any other objects that he had on his corpse. “1...2...3” They tossed the body in a pit that was full of fallen soldiers from both sides. When the body hit the pile a womp rat scurried out from under a pile to hide under another.

Glory of the Empire, and a shallow grave. Gunnery Sergeant Rogueboy thought as the command came down to light the corpses. Rogue watched them burn as he gave a silent salute to the fallen; he recalled a quote from his training. “Respect your superiors as they have been in battle and know what to expect, Respect your men for you will need them to cover your back, and most importantly Respect your enemy otherwise you will underestimate them and that will be your downfall.”

The defences had obviously held and the Thrawn attack had been repulsed now the squads were huddled down in their bunkers while a few spotters remained outside to keep an eye should Thrawn decide to get cute. Currently the Northern front was low on munitions particularly anti-vehicle weapons and mines, the enemy had tried to flank them by climbing a nearby mountain and surrounding them. This proved to be disastrous as the Commanding Officer had expected them to attempt this and had posted a squad in a location where; “Three old women can hold off an army with broomsticks.”

A few days later as the squad was playing sabaac a loud whistling filled the air, the squad threw the cards down and quickly gathered their weapons. Rogue slammed on his helmet and ran outside the shelter to man his post with his squad. The Geerunner  soldier had always hated the E-11 blaster rifle that was standard issue amongst most Imperial soldiers.

A low sounding whistle sounded but began picking up in pitch; Rogue jumped down as a shell exploded above the squad and rained down shrapnel in an attempt to kill any unprepared soldier. Rogue was quick to grab cover as he had spent a few months on this particular front and was quick to find out which kind of bomb it was from the sound of its whistle and what kind of steps would offer him the best chance of survival.

Currently Xanta space was occupied by the VE navy and the Thrawnist forces were desperately trying to get through in an attempt to start up the supply chain that was cut off when the VE arrived. Rogue was transferred here after the initial assault where the troops captured a surface to air ion cannon. The initial battle was over quickly; two star destroyers exited hyperspace and unleashed their TIEs and transport ships, the Thrawn controlled ion cannon opened fire on one star destroyer but they were unprepared for the quickness of the VE troops and with not time the transports unloaded their soldiers and the base was captured relatively intact. A nearby Thrawn base immediately attacked but was repulsed and decimated by TIE bombers. Outgoing transmissions were quickly intercepted and as far as Thrawn was aware Xanta was still loyal to Thrawn.

The gunnery sergeant picked up his macrobinoculars and used it to scout out the next Thrawnist attack; a few more vehicles but mostly infantry. Rogueboy switched the comlink to the CO’s frequency. “Hey boss, requesting either an artillery strike or air bombardment in sector GL thirty-two.”

There was a little static before there was a reply. “Request denied, the artilleries barrels are worn out and need to be changed, and the TIE bombers are being re-armed and refuelled work with what you got. Command out.”

“Bantha shit!” Rogueboy screamed to no one in particular as he began organizing his troops. “I want one E-web on the left and one on the right flanks; flamethrowers up near the front trench but keep your heads low until I give the command. Swap squad split your E-11s up between the first two trenches, you two.” Rogue pointed to the two snipers. “Stay in the back and pick those lookalikes off. Plexers you take out those damn vehicles as soon as possible, call your targets and concentrate your firepower, I would rather have one down then two injured.”

Now comes the hard part; the calm before the storm. Enemy artillery was shelling their position and while most of the troops on this front were veterans or quickly became a veteran a few of the men were too slow to grab cover and Rogue lost men as others dragged the wounded to a field hospital a few kilometres south of their position. The snipers rifles rang out as they picked off as many of the Thrawn troops as possible trying to differentiate the officers from the soldiers.

An AT-ST walked within range and it was struck by four rockets while two missed it, while it wasn’t that the AT-ST’s armour was pierced it was the driving force of four rockets that knocked it over and it was unable to get back up. The enemy troops were quickly digging themselves foxholes as the two E-webs swathed down a bunch of troops. Enemy suppressive fire reached the defenders as Thrawnist troops ran as fast as they could towards the trenches.

“Flamethrowers, fire!” Rogue screamed into his comlink.

The VE flamethrowers stood up and unleashed blasts that would melt plastoid armour, blister skin and turn any human into a corpse within seconds. It was a bad way to go but Rogueboy did not know a good way.
Raiders
Faithful To The End

Heavy Weapons Specialist

He will give them death, and they will love him for it -Gladiator

Eat a hearty breakfast men, for tonight we dine in hell -King Leonidas, 300

ASL/GSG_Rogueboy/3SQD/1PLT/1COM/1BAT/1RGT/VEA/VE [LoR][ES1][CDS][CoR][EW2]

Clearly Canadian!


http://rizzit.stormtroopercorps.com/rewards/Raiders/Rogueboy.jpg
Dante
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Dante
 
[VE-ARMY] Private First Class
 
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  RE: Raiders' Squad specialty Stories
November 17, 2007 10:50:55 PM    View the profile of Dante 
Ignore this post please.
TRP/PFC Dante/1SQD/2 PLT/1 COM/1 RGT/1BAT/Tadath/VEA
Quote:And we are here as on a darkling plain
Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight,Where ignorant armies clash by night.

Raiders
Service is its own reward.
[This message has been edited by Dante (edited September 22, 2008 12:31:34 AM)]
Rogueboy
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Rogueboy
 
[VE-ARMY] Gunnery Sergeant
 
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  RE: Raiders' Squad specialty Stories
January 10, 2008 5:07:20 PM    View the profile of Rogueboy 
Armament Maintenance and Repair
Heavy Weapons Specialist

Corporal Rogueboy was furious he had just received perhaps the worst bit of news he had ever heard. His R&R time had just been incredibly shortened because of an incident on the field. He had punched a new recruit while on the field of battle, normally this is cause for time in solitary confinement but the higher ups in their ever-present wisdom decided to use this time for a more beneficial use.

While the Raiders will be having two weeks relaxation with perhaps short training sessions, Rogue will be out in the field with Trident squad under the command of Platoon Sergeant Frak. The former Raider’s trooper will be given the position of trooper and will obey any orders given to him by the aging sergeant.

Trident’s objectives are to rendezvous with Striker squad before leaving the planet and together the two squads were to infiltrate a suspected NR facility based on an asteroid in the Ryuk asteroid belt via Lambda shuttle while three squadrons of TIE fighters engage enemy airborne defenses. The ground-based soldiers are to quickly commandeer enemy ground to air support and aid the TIE’s in their battle, if possible they are to also capture the enemy base commander.

The new temporary Trident trooper groaned as he left the debriefing room taking a mug of caf along with him. For the second time since signing his contract Rogue thought deserting the army, at first his mind toyed with the idea but as the realization started sinking in that he might get killed fighting in a battle that he didn’t belong in, along with people who didn’t give two shits if he lived or not, he wanted out.

Rogue quickly downed his caf and headed towards a nearby exit carrying the mug with him. A squad of Imperial guards was stationed at the door scanning and checking everyone who walked through for any stolen items or pieces of information. Rogueboy had only to approach the guard and show him his identification before the terminal showed up red flagged stating he was not allowed to leave the vicinity.

Two members of Trident squad showed up on each side of the Raider Corporal. “Where do you think you’re going?” The one on the left said.

“You weren’t going to leave us where you?” The one on the right said.

“I was planning to go home and catch some snooze before the mission.” Rogue replied hastily.

“That is unusual considering we are reporting to the starport ASAP.” Mr. Lefty said.

“As a matter of fact, since you don’t have the equipment on hand it looks like you’re going to have to go gear up. Come we will bring you to your gear.” Righty said as they steered Rogue towards the armoury.

Rogueboy was sitting in a specialized space combat Lambda shuttle allowing it to drop off soldiers in zero-G without any harm coming to the pilots. The armoured spacesuit felt awkward and the BMC-150 felt unfamiliar in the corporal’s hands yet he knew that it was a carbine, which means that it sucked at long range but fired faster, then its rifle counterpart.

The intel on this mission was very vague; they weren’t sure if it was a NR installation or a pirate hideout. The only reports gathered were those of merchants being attacked in the sector by typical New Republic spacecraft. Estimates on enemy ground forces were few, this was a small base used to house and launch quick pre-emptive strikes on unsuspecting targets. There should be a few guards and perhaps a few grounded pilots when the two squads roll through.

“We are exiting hyper speed and should be hitting the LZ in a couple of minutes.” A non-descript voice said through the comlinks, which Rogue assumed was the pilot.

“Gear up men, slap on your helmets and activate your oxygen tanks. Trigo you will use your fusion cutter to open a door for us.” Frak said as he paced in front of the men.

The former Raiders trooper disassembled is carbine and began checking it out piece-by-piece, which is what he should have done when he was given it. Sure enough the gas chamber was near empty and needed to be changed unless Rogue wanted his bolts fading a foot in front of him. On the ship there was a box of spare parts for reasons such as this, Rogue rummaged through it until he came up with a spare gas chamber and loaded into his carbine.

The corporal also gave his blaster a quick clean down to make sure that no dirt would jam up his blaster as well as made sure to properly lubricate his gun so that the trigger would not rust should he unlikely fall into water.

“Exiting hyper speed now.” The once again non-descript voice of the pilot came over the comlink.

TIE fighter squadrons appeared right next to the Lambda shuttle and began heading towards an asteroid field. The shuttle trailed the TIEs as the enemy base grew in size, looking outside from a view port Rogue was able to see a few X-wings lifting off from the base but the TIE fighters shot them down before they could manage to move one hundred meters.

Anti-air defenses began unleashing volleys of blaster fire and ion fire towards the approaching starfighters. The shuttle was jostled a few times as the shields took glancing hits, Rogue heard one of the troopers throw up in his helmet and nearly chuckled to himself before quickly realizing that the trooper would be unable to see as he wouldn’t have the time to clean the mask. Choking on one’s own vomit was no longer an issue as reports about malfunctioning equipment causing death prior to battle had led to a VE investigation and safety measures were taken to protect the troopers. In a case such as this there was a suction that would quickly grab the vomit as best it could and keep it in the disposal pouch.

The shuttle door opened up and Sergeant Frak hopped out onto the asteroid base; quickly the squad followed and another nearby Lambda dropped off Striker squad, together two combat engineers quickly sawed an opening in the durasteel hull of the base. Quickly the squads dropped in; heading down opposite ends of the corridors heavy doors barred each of their paths as the base’s systems attempted to confine the breach. Now it was the splicer’s jobs to open these doors and to quickly close it behind them, reducing the risk that a tear in a suit will lead to one’s demise. Rogue waited as the squad was bunched up on the door; he loved the magnetic boots as they could be turned on and off keeping one rooted to the floor when gravity would otherwise have a different opinion.

Blast doors opened revealing an empty barracks like room, however Rogue only got a glimpse before chests started flying at him from the breach, entering the room and picking the side opposite from the flow of mismanaged articles. Turning to the side Rogue saw one trooper get hit in the crotch by a helmet and as he crumpled a mattress flew overhead striking the trooper behind him. Resisting the urge to laugh as the squad quickly filed in and shut the blast door behind them, opening to the door to the next room the squad quickly moved in. Inside the room there was a man behind a terminal, his back facing the squad, the man turned around to see what the disturbance was, a stun bolt hit him smack in the chest. One of the squad members moved in to secure the man while the squad splicer went behind the terminal to see what could be done about the automated base defenses.

“Going to need about ten minutes to hack into their system.” The techie gunman said as he began loading programs onto it.

The Sergeant detailed two men to watch over the techie while the rest of the squad moved on to eliminate any further ground resistance and to capture the base commander. Opening the door to another room revealed the mess hall, a cook was standing behind the counter cleaning a glass with his back turned to the squad. “I told you guys, I can’t serve you drinks while there’s a drill going o…” The man turned and saw the geared up stormtroopers. Rogue watched as another trooper hit the cook/barkeeper with a stun bolt and dropping him to the floor, looking at the layout of the mess hall it was designed to fit about twenty men at a time showing that this was indeed a small installation. The next room proved to be a bit more troublesome then its other companions as the squad were spotted as soon as the door opened and the defenders had opened up with their pistols. Two stormtroopers were down as Rogue squeezed past them and leaped to take cover under a terminal, sticking his head out a bit to attempt to see where the enemy was, it almost proved to be Rogue’s last idea as a bolt struck the terminal and sent sparks flying into the air. Rogue lifted his arm to lay down some blind cover fire for the squad and as he squeezed the trigger the blaster came to life for all of three seconds before it exploded in Rogue’s hand. Pulling his hand back revealed a charred glove and the handle of his former blaster rifle, quickly removing his glove Rogue made sure to count all his fingers to make sure it was there, not knowing what the hell went wrong he shrugged it off and pulled out his secondary weapon.

The battle was over, the base commander had chosen to fight to the death as opposed to surrender, as his corpse lay smoldering next to Trident squad a few of them recounted the odd happenings that had happened. “Did you see when Brad got hit by that mattress?” “Yeah I nearly pissed myself.”

Rogue’s ears perked up. “Did anyone see what happened to my blaster rifle? It just exploded in my hand.” Rogueboy asked.

“Oh I saw what happened one of the NR guys tried to take your hand off except hit the tibanna gas chamber on your rifle. Your pretty lucky you still have your hand left.”
Raiders
Faithful To The End

Heavy Weapons Specialist

He will give them death, and they will love him for it -Gladiator

Eat a hearty breakfast men, for tonight we dine in hell -300

A man, can be an artist, at anything food, whatever... it just depends on how good they are at it. Creases art is death... he's about to paint his masterpiece -Man on Fire

ASL/GSG_Rogueboy/3SQD/1PLT/1COM/1BAT/1RGT/VEA/VE [LoR][ES1][CDS][CoR][EW2]

Clearly Canadian!


http://rizzit.stormtroopercorps.com/rewards/Raiders/Rogueboy.jpg
Dante
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Dante
 
[VE-ARMY] Gunnery Sergeant
 
Post Number:  1581
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  RE: Raiders' Squad specialty Stories
September 19, 2008 4:46:25 PM    View the profile of Dante 
Small Arms Repair

Sunlight, streaming through a transparisteel window, glinted off dozens of plastoid helmets and ebony viewscreens. It glinted off the polished desktop and the dull finish of the assorted weapons lying on it. Behind it stood Dante's gaunt instructor, Sergeant Arkham, rank cylinder glinting in the late afternoon sun. He cleared his throat and the assembled troopers fell silent.
This is where the fun begins....

"Today we will be studying the repair and reassembly of small weaponry. Can anyone name one example of a small weapon?"

A young recruit standing in front of Dante tenatively raised her hand.

"Yes?"

"A blaster pistol?"

"Correct. These weapons are less powerful than their larger counterparts but are much more portable. Hence, it is imperative that you learn how to repair and maintain them. If you don't know how, you'll be a dark red smear on some wall within several weeks. Understood?"

Dozens of voices called out as one.

"Yes, sir."

"Good. We'll begin, if no one has any questions."

The instructor walked over to a large desk, covered with weapons and parts of weapons.  He picked up a blaster rifle and held it up so everyone could see it.

"Do you all know what this is?"

"A DC-17 blaster pistol?"

The Sergeant pulled his sidearm and fired a single shot into the weapon. A stunned silence settled over the room.

"Wrong. It's a useless piece of metal, unless you know how to repair your sidearm."

He placed the weapon on a side table and retrieved several tools and canisters from a rack besides it.

"Whenever possible, you should first remove the power cell. If you pull out the wrong component without removing it, not even bacta could help you. If you can't remove the power cell, the pistol's beyond saving."

With that he pulled the power cell from the weapon and placed it next to the slagged weapon.

"First, conduct an external scan of the weapon. If you see any obviously destroyed components remove them. Some parts, such as the barrel with still function despite incredible amounts of damage. Others, such as the scope or other delicate components, shoudl be replaced even if they are not obviously damaged. Often, electronic components can be damaged beyond repair by the electromagnetic waves from the bolt." 

He fiddled with the blaster, removing the barrel and opening the body. Picking up a pair of delicate tweezers from the table, he removed components that had been smashed beyond repair by the force of the bolt, placing them in a small container next to his right arm. 

"You should keep a  basic repair kit on you at all times. Tweezers, a magnifier,any other tools you might need, and replacement parts are all essential."

He replaced the parts and re-screwed the case over the blaster's body.

He fired the blaster into a target on the wall. A bolt of blue energy lanced from the barrel and impacted on the plastoid, leaving a smoking and blackened hole. The group watched in silence, staring at the inch wide crater and the whisps of smoke drifting from it.

"Your turn. Each of you will retrieve a sidearm and attempt to repair it. To pass, you must sucessfully fire it into a target. You have fifteen minutes. Start."

Fifteen minutes?! Son of a Sith.

Dante sprinted for the desk and quickly grabbed a blaster from those piled up on a desk. He retrieved a scout trooper blaster pistol and quickly looked over the weapon.

Barrel slightly blackened, body's case half burned awaay. I suppose it could be worse.

Dante pried off the case and retrieved a pair of tweezers from the kit that had been placed on his desk. He pulled out the obviously slagged components and placed them on the desk. The soot was either scraped off or carefully worked around, for fear of getting it into the sensitive electronics. With two minutes to spare, Dante finished it off and fired. The red bolt hissed through the air and burned away half of the target.

An aide nodded and made a note on his datapad.

"Stop now if you're done. We'll be working with larger weapons next week so come prepared. Class dismissed!"

Dante strode out, his mind already on the next assignment. The pistol lay forgotten on the desk.

A year later. Many of the troopers that had been with Dante in that room are gone from the Corps, either retired from injuries or sent back to their home planets in small boxes. Dante ,however, is still very much alive. Whether he can maintain that state is becoming increasingly questionable, partly due to the Republic speeder and associated squad making its way towards their position. Shots fly overhead, and he instinctively ducks.

"Sithspit!" someone yelled, a Private who Dante had seen on the way in, a second before an energy beam impacted his visor. The trooper crumpled as the carbonized remains of his helmet split in two from the impact, and his pistol fell from his gloved hands. Nearby, the other RAIDERS were exchanging fire with their more lightly armour counterparts, but the numbers were clearly on the Republic's side. Dante reached for his sidearm, only to drop it and begin swearing as sparks crackled from the weapon's holster.

A stray blaster shot had penetrated the deece's casing, burning through the weapon's plating and damging the rechargable power cell. The air was filled with the smell of ozone as Dante quickly placed the damaged DC-15 on a flat piece of debris and began to work.

Following the directions the instructor had given him, Dante stripped away what remained of the weapon's plating, then set to work on its innards. The power cell was the first to go, tossed to the ground and replaced by an intact cell from one of Dante's belt pouches. Parts of the energy focusing systems were beyond repair, but those that remained would do. Dante stripped down the barrel, quickly wiping away grit and dust, then reassembled the weapon. As he works, Dante hears the RAIDERS continuing to fire, and this gives his work a sense of urgency. After several minutes, he replaces the weapon's cover, and the power cell glows a bright blue. Dante aims at an exposed trooper, then pulls the trigger. The deece fires, and the militia trooper falls.

Looks like that session came in handy after all.

OOC:
This story passes by a slim margin. You did a fairly good job of explaining the topic, showing how the teacher dismantled the weapon and all, but your actual quiz/test/assigment over it was a bit vague. The writing and the editing could use a lot of improvement. There were multiple little small errors like mispellings, or not including a space after a comma. The ending, while a nicely different from other spec stories, was a bit abrupt, and you kept switching between present tense and past tense. Those are the kind of things that just one read-through, editing session, could fix. Also, try to diversify with your adjectives and imagery. I believe you used 'glint' three times in the first paragraph.

I'd like you to, if you have the time, do a quick edit of this, fixing all the major tense confusion places and maybe fixing up those mispellings. Optional, of course, but it'd be a good show of your dedication to the spec.

Other than that, you can continue with your next story, keeping this advice in mind as you do so.

TRP/GSGDante/2SQD/1PLT/1COM/1BAT/1RGT/VEA/VE
*HeavyWeapons *
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
Washington:"I knew this plan would never work!"
Church:"None of our plans ever work."
Caboose:"That's why we carry guns."
[This message has been edited by Dante (edited September 22, 2008 10:36:47 AM)]
[This message has been edited by Dante (edited September 22, 2008 12:29:49 AM)]
[This message has been edited by Arnaut (edited December 16, 2008 3:10:07 PM)]
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