Charmaylarg Dufrain
🎖️ Game Master
- RP Date
- YE-41
- RP Location
- FR-3 system 'Garden of thorns'
Aftermath - Red Firebase.
With the sound of a hundred crashing symbals, the shield finally gave to the fire from above. Those on the exterior of the hillfort; Both Reds and Kuvexians alike suffered much the same fate as a lance of aether, weakened by its trip through the atmosphere but still more than enough to get the job done lanced into the side of the hillfort and detonated with over 2kt of force.
Those who survived the impact either died from the debris or the shockwave if they were lucky while those unlucky few reds inside the tunnels or in the lower trenches were literally buried alive. Not by the aetheric bombardment but by a hard made choice by those inside the depths of the command center as a final straw and been reached.
Before the earthen shield could be punctured like the energy shield had the ground had begun to shake violently like a nest of hornets on the attack before slowly falling away as prefab buildings and fortified emplacements literally sluffed away as the buried beast began to rise. Slowly at first and then with purpose the hillfort rose and revealed its true nature as from the muddy depths a single Atlas class destroyer rose; shaking off its coat of dirt and began to take to the skies ominously above its former home, the single red stripe across its flank a sign of its ownership as one of the few warships leased to the BRR in good faith by their former enemies to take part in the offensive.
Those who survived bellow were still many, and the majority sported gold and violent armor. So it was with a heavy heart that an old veteran forsook those who wore his color on their shoulder and issued a single order. An order which had the guns on the bottom of the destroyer aim straight down at its former home.
And they opened fire with all the rage and sorrow it could muster before the rest of its guns turned towards the skies and answered the challenge laid before it.
Three Days Later - 47 kilometers east.
For the assault team of marines and their IPG comrades, the escape was a blur. Swept up in the commotion and a tide of red bodies in panic the IPG leader, Duece had taken lead and practically dragged the marines and her team off the tarmac of the airstrip and into the woodline with a healthy group of reds who either had better survival instincts than their comrades or simply needed someone to follow quickly trailed behind.
They had continued on silent and morbid over the course of several hours through the jungle, their wounded forcing slow progress as not only the marine Louis needed a stretcher or transport or medical attention. The spooks seemed to care little, Even though it seemed one of their own; Apples, had been caught in the landslide of the lower trenches. They continued on until finally breaking camp.
The wounded and survivors had shown up for hours afterward, following the path of those that went before them until finally right before nightfall the last survivor seemed to edge into the camp. A pilot, and a familiar face at that in the form of Windchime eventually broke trail into the glade they had been using with a couple of other pilots in tow, Their flight suits stained with blood and sweat. After her, Nobody else outside the camp seemed to answer the radio calls and further attempts by even the most optimistic were cut off.
By nightfall over sixty-seven souls sat situated in the dark glade. With the exception of just five marines and four spooks it was an entire majority Reds with Windchime and two of her pilots making up the sole officer cadre and the rest being miscellaneous souls ranging from a handful of soldiers to a spattering of flight crews and three PA pilots (Still in possession of their Twisted Demon armors).
The first couple of days played out simply. The IPG team would head in a direction and make just enough headway that the marines, After stripping their encumbering outer armor of the Golem armor in the oppressive heat could keep pace. It was an unspoken decision from Windchime that the reds would follow the greens deeper into the jungle, lacking a direction to follow themselves. Though less and less of them seemed to arrive at camp each night as the denizens of the jungle picked off the weak and stragglers in the form of stealthy megafauna and aggressive and invasive insectoids.
Camp - Louis, Carina, Minnie, Lupin, Tobias.
The fourth day brought rain. A torrential downpour so oppressive that flash flooding and mudslides stopped any progress before it started. The team; Weary, light on ammo, and low on necessities nestled under the roots of a tree so giant that the small overhang of roots at the base of the tree made a cave large enough to fit a small house in and continued on far enough across it could be considered a subway tunnel.
Somwhere deeper inside many of the reds huddled around a makeshift fire that in the damp tunnel they struggled to stay lit while keeping their distance from the greens. While they still followed the lead of the spooks there was a clear divide between them and more than a few still glanced nervously at the two spooks not out scouting in the rain; Locust and Tobias.
It had become a rumor among them that one or more of the spooks had been circling around to pick off the stragglers or wounded at the back of the line every day of travel. Windchime had put it all down as hearsay to squash any resentment that even she felt towards her former foes but none could know how true it was.
Tobias certainly was privy to the order that when Locust had been sent out to forage every day or scout that the sultry cyborg had been culling the heard. The whole spook team knew it, It had sped up their pace considerably. Because after all, The reds had a use, they had been sent their and Duece had even leaked the location of the firebase for the very reason of collecting a finite number of bodies for the mission at hand.
But only so many were needed. And certainly not the wounded ones.
"They're just reds" had been all the reinforcement given by Duece to the team. Though even then the marines on their side had been kept in the dark to not only that but towards the whole mission. To some it might not sit right, But to the spooks the blood on their hands was justified and their purpose still remained unspoken.
In the rain, however, Locust was remarkably useless with her cybernetic advantage and the sultry woman simply sat crouched, in the semi-dark of the tunnel, watching the marines across from them. A particular mark of hers in the form of Carina tempted her to the point of madness.
She never showed it, however. And even now as her little doll leaned over the explosive one, Locust kept her head down just enough that it wouldn't be obvious she was staring.
Or that the thin line of her mouth pulled ever so slightly into a smile.
"Wash around the wound carefully," Minnie remarked to Carina as the two of them kneeled over the hunched form of Louis, Carefully checking the wound on the mans head. Louis had suffered internal hemorrhaging in the battle along with a series of other injuries and had required a pressure bleed when it became clear the blood pooling in his skull was forcing his brain to swell against his skull and was slowly killing him.
"How are you feeling, Lou?" The sergeant did her best to keep the now conscious demolitionist focussed and awake in such times.
Field surgery had been performed as soon as they broke camp the first day and made the discovery and a small hole had been carefully drilled into the mans skull to release the pressure by the veteran sergeant and her surgical skills. But the healing wound, even with all the antibiotics and medical nanites they could spare was showing signs of infection and fever and required it to be cleaned and treated hourly like it did now. Louis for his part had finally been able to walk and stay conscious long enough that he was deemed stable by the veteran sergeant with her medical expertise and had been allowed to proceed with the group mostly unaided.
Though a couple of Reds surprisingly stuck close to him, Carrying looted weapons and acting as a crutch to the man from time to time.
Seemingly the only ones to make it out of the fight from before in the best shape with the exception of Minnie and carina had been Lupin and Sebastian. The sniper had earned his first kill against another marksman and the SOL had bested a superior PA pilot. Though even now the two showed signs of wear as the VOIDs backup energy supply had begun to dwindle even with the minimal use and Lupins long-gun had used most of its ammo in the deterrence of predators and occasional hunting of small game. They stood vigil with the rest of the group in morbid silence as the burning question of why they were even here hovered in the minds.
None of them had yet broached the topic but it was clear that with the reds slowly building tensions and the lack of direction that a boiling point was soon approaching.
Where they heading back towards the small death?
Why had they even flown to the base to help the reds in the first place?
Why hadn't anybody even told them where they were going and how much further?
Would they make it with what little supplies they had left?
Nearby a couple reds in the group looked over their shoulders at the greens and quickly back down into a huddle with their comrades...
With the sound of a hundred crashing symbals, the shield finally gave to the fire from above. Those on the exterior of the hillfort; Both Reds and Kuvexians alike suffered much the same fate as a lance of aether, weakened by its trip through the atmosphere but still more than enough to get the job done lanced into the side of the hillfort and detonated with over 2kt of force.
Those who survived the impact either died from the debris or the shockwave if they were lucky while those unlucky few reds inside the tunnels or in the lower trenches were literally buried alive. Not by the aetheric bombardment but by a hard made choice by those inside the depths of the command center as a final straw and been reached.
Before the earthen shield could be punctured like the energy shield had the ground had begun to shake violently like a nest of hornets on the attack before slowly falling away as prefab buildings and fortified emplacements literally sluffed away as the buried beast began to rise. Slowly at first and then with purpose the hillfort rose and revealed its true nature as from the muddy depths a single Atlas class destroyer rose; shaking off its coat of dirt and began to take to the skies ominously above its former home, the single red stripe across its flank a sign of its ownership as one of the few warships leased to the BRR in good faith by their former enemies to take part in the offensive.
Those who survived bellow were still many, and the majority sported gold and violent armor. So it was with a heavy heart that an old veteran forsook those who wore his color on their shoulder and issued a single order. An order which had the guns on the bottom of the destroyer aim straight down at its former home.
And they opened fire with all the rage and sorrow it could muster before the rest of its guns turned towards the skies and answered the challenge laid before it.
Three Days Later - 47 kilometers east.
For the assault team of marines and their IPG comrades, the escape was a blur. Swept up in the commotion and a tide of red bodies in panic the IPG leader, Duece had taken lead and practically dragged the marines and her team off the tarmac of the airstrip and into the woodline with a healthy group of reds who either had better survival instincts than their comrades or simply needed someone to follow quickly trailed behind.
They had continued on silent and morbid over the course of several hours through the jungle, their wounded forcing slow progress as not only the marine Louis needed a stretcher or transport or medical attention. The spooks seemed to care little, Even though it seemed one of their own; Apples, had been caught in the landslide of the lower trenches. They continued on until finally breaking camp.
The wounded and survivors had shown up for hours afterward, following the path of those that went before them until finally right before nightfall the last survivor seemed to edge into the camp. A pilot, and a familiar face at that in the form of Windchime eventually broke trail into the glade they had been using with a couple of other pilots in tow, Their flight suits stained with blood and sweat. After her, Nobody else outside the camp seemed to answer the radio calls and further attempts by even the most optimistic were cut off.
By nightfall over sixty-seven souls sat situated in the dark glade. With the exception of just five marines and four spooks it was an entire majority Reds with Windchime and two of her pilots making up the sole officer cadre and the rest being miscellaneous souls ranging from a handful of soldiers to a spattering of flight crews and three PA pilots (Still in possession of their Twisted Demon armors).
The first couple of days played out simply. The IPG team would head in a direction and make just enough headway that the marines, After stripping their encumbering outer armor of the Golem armor in the oppressive heat could keep pace. It was an unspoken decision from Windchime that the reds would follow the greens deeper into the jungle, lacking a direction to follow themselves. Though less and less of them seemed to arrive at camp each night as the denizens of the jungle picked off the weak and stragglers in the form of stealthy megafauna and aggressive and invasive insectoids.
Camp - Louis, Carina, Minnie, Lupin, Tobias.
The fourth day brought rain. A torrential downpour so oppressive that flash flooding and mudslides stopped any progress before it started. The team; Weary, light on ammo, and low on necessities nestled under the roots of a tree so giant that the small overhang of roots at the base of the tree made a cave large enough to fit a small house in and continued on far enough across it could be considered a subway tunnel.
Somwhere deeper inside many of the reds huddled around a makeshift fire that in the damp tunnel they struggled to stay lit while keeping their distance from the greens. While they still followed the lead of the spooks there was a clear divide between them and more than a few still glanced nervously at the two spooks not out scouting in the rain; Locust and Tobias.
It had become a rumor among them that one or more of the spooks had been circling around to pick off the stragglers or wounded at the back of the line every day of travel. Windchime had put it all down as hearsay to squash any resentment that even she felt towards her former foes but none could know how true it was.
Tobias certainly was privy to the order that when Locust had been sent out to forage every day or scout that the sultry cyborg had been culling the heard. The whole spook team knew it, It had sped up their pace considerably. Because after all, The reds had a use, they had been sent their and Duece had even leaked the location of the firebase for the very reason of collecting a finite number of bodies for the mission at hand.
But only so many were needed. And certainly not the wounded ones.
"They're just reds" had been all the reinforcement given by Duece to the team. Though even then the marines on their side had been kept in the dark to not only that but towards the whole mission. To some it might not sit right, But to the spooks the blood on their hands was justified and their purpose still remained unspoken.
In the rain, however, Locust was remarkably useless with her cybernetic advantage and the sultry woman simply sat crouched, in the semi-dark of the tunnel, watching the marines across from them. A particular mark of hers in the form of Carina tempted her to the point of madness.
She never showed it, however. And even now as her little doll leaned over the explosive one, Locust kept her head down just enough that it wouldn't be obvious she was staring.
Or that the thin line of her mouth pulled ever so slightly into a smile.
"Wash around the wound carefully," Minnie remarked to Carina as the two of them kneeled over the hunched form of Louis, Carefully checking the wound on the mans head. Louis had suffered internal hemorrhaging in the battle along with a series of other injuries and had required a pressure bleed when it became clear the blood pooling in his skull was forcing his brain to swell against his skull and was slowly killing him.
"How are you feeling, Lou?" The sergeant did her best to keep the now conscious demolitionist focussed and awake in such times.
Field surgery had been performed as soon as they broke camp the first day and made the discovery and a small hole had been carefully drilled into the mans skull to release the pressure by the veteran sergeant and her surgical skills. But the healing wound, even with all the antibiotics and medical nanites they could spare was showing signs of infection and fever and required it to be cleaned and treated hourly like it did now. Louis for his part had finally been able to walk and stay conscious long enough that he was deemed stable by the veteran sergeant with her medical expertise and had been allowed to proceed with the group mostly unaided.
Though a couple of Reds surprisingly stuck close to him, Carrying looted weapons and acting as a crutch to the man from time to time.
Seemingly the only ones to make it out of the fight from before in the best shape with the exception of Minnie and carina had been Lupin and Sebastian. The sniper had earned his first kill against another marksman and the SOL had bested a superior PA pilot. Though even now the two showed signs of wear as the VOIDs backup energy supply had begun to dwindle even with the minimal use and Lupins long-gun had used most of its ammo in the deterrence of predators and occasional hunting of small game. They stood vigil with the rest of the group in morbid silence as the burning question of why they were even here hovered in the minds.
None of them had yet broached the topic but it was clear that with the reds slowly building tensions and the lack of direction that a boiling point was soon approaching.
Where they heading back towards the small death?
Why had they even flown to the base to help the reds in the first place?
Why hadn't anybody even told them where they were going and how much further?
Would they make it with what little supplies they had left?
Nearby a couple reds in the group looked over their shoulders at the greens and quickly back down into a huddle with their comrades...