FLT. Admiral Yogi
Colonial Retired
Fleet Admiral/Admin
Posts: 4,039
Registered: Mar 22, 2010 21:45:48 GMT -6
|
Post by FLT. Admiral Yogi on Oct 22, 2011 19:13:13 GMT -6
*Banking the raptor left nearing the car's spotting the men out the window, pulling the yoke back flying up. Swooping down easy and smoothly, reaching down engaging the wheels. Touch he down flipping the switch cutting off the engines. Un-snapping my belts lifting up the arm rest, scooting over rising up. Standing up heading back, moving my right hand to the door. Grasping the handing pulling it down as the hatch opens, stepping out onto the wing. Moving on down stepping onto the ground cocking my head.* "So this must be the new recruit huh, well his he gonna be a nugget or a jar-head? Sir the two Lieutenant's are in the medic-bay now and being looked at. Everyone ready to head home, should be about time everyone return's from shore leave."*Watching the raptor touching down as Cora steps out* "Thanks marine and I pretty sure he'll be our new jar-head so be nice . Good I am glad there being patched up and yes everyone should be coming home this week."*Heading for the raptor, stepping up onto the wing. Reaching back down to my dress sword, un-clipping the sheath. Stepping inside tossing the sword up into the over-head bin, looking back* "Well come on you two, Thrax be sure you have everything, The adjustment from living planet-side to living in space can be extremely hard, we got drugs to help ya'll with that."*Moving on insde, leaning down and hunching over. Scooting on onto the seat, reaching back grasping the straps. Pulling them over my shoulder's clicking them into place, pulling the straps tight.*
|
|
|
Post by NPC Marine on Oct 22, 2011 19:15:22 GMT -6
*Reaching up flipping switches one by one, lowering my right hand turning the dials. Grasping the dual yoke with my left hand, reaching down as I cycle up the engines. Shifting over lowering the arm rest, cocking my head waiting for Ace Thrax*
|
|
|
Post by Vice Admiral Michael Martin on Oct 22, 2011 22:45:35 GMT -6
Picking up his bags, Michael slipped his backpack on before tossing the keys to Cottle; "Have the car trust me it drives like a dream," stepping onboard the raptor as he turned to Yogi, "Did have some training in Zero G and what my file doesn't say is that I puked the first time I went into space so hope you have a bag ready."
Setting his bags down in the back, he ejected the clip in his pistol only to pull out a round to show Yogi; "Standard .34 caliber round but the shell has a coating of titanium that allows it to punch through 3 inches of body armor and the pistol has been modified to propel the round faster so put all that together and you have something that can go through that Marine's body armor in faster than sound and cause internal bleeding along with rupture of the internal organs leading to death. This round is in fact illegal in some territories and well started to be used by the Ha La Tha when they got to Terra; I'm sure it can cut through your Cylon issue."
|
|
FLT. Admiral Yogi
Colonial Retired
Fleet Admiral/Admin
Posts: 4,039
Registered: Mar 22, 2010 21:45:48 GMT -6
|
Post by FLT. Admiral Yogi on Oct 23, 2011 20:59:43 GMT -6
Picking up his bags, Michael slipped his backpack on before tossing the keys to Cottle; "Have the car trust me it drives like a dream," stepping onboard the raptor as he turned to Yogi, "Did have some training in Zero G and what my file doesn't say is that I puked the first time I went into space so hope you have a bag ready." Setting his bags down in the back, he ejected the clip in his pistol only to pull out a round to show Yogi; "Standard .34 caliber round but the shell has a coating of titanium that allows it to punch through 3 inches of body armor and the pistol has been modified to propel the round faster so put all that together and you have something that can go through that Marine's body armor in faster than sound and cause internal bleeding along with rupture of the internal organs leading to death. This round is in fact illegal in some territories and well started to be used by the Ha La Tha when they got to Terra; I'm sure it can cut through your Cylon issue." "Hmm good very good we need some bullet like that, just hope it cuts through Carbolite and platinum mesh.. Not everyone can carry a barrett .50 cal, in fact all out ammo is tipped with Carbolite. We had luck with that but the effort to make Carbolite is tough."*Cocking my head around* "Cora are we ready, just take off as soon as Ace straps in. So about the wait Thrax Ace is one of the best marine pilots I have but he is always late."
|
|
Deleted
Posts: 0
Registered: May 18, 2024 12:12:48 GMT -6
|
Post by Deleted on Oct 24, 2011 8:36:10 GMT -6
Strapping in, he nodded while one of the Marines closed the hatch, tossing Michael a vest along with a holster; "Suit up! With the Commander's permission, I would like to clean out one of the cargo holds and let you live there with your guns and a bullet producer so you can improve our weaponry."
Turning to the Marine pilot, Alex nodded as looked the console to assist if need be.
|
|
|
Post by NPC Marine on Oct 24, 2011 13:59:13 GMT -6
*Reaching up flipping switches one by one, lowering my right hand turning the dials. Grasping the dual yoke with my left hand, reaching down as I cycle up the engines. Shifting over lowering the arm rest, pulling back on the yokes. Lifting off the floor as the wheels fold up, releasing the brakes as the Raptor lift's up. Reaching down folding up the wheels, banking around. Nudging the yokes again heading for Atlantia, pulling back of the yoke leveling the raptor, busting through the atmosphere.*
|
|
Jack "Fraker" Reynolds
Brown Coat Faction
Captain of the White Fang
what you plan and what takes place ain't exactly that similar
Posts: 2,635
Registered: Mar 28, 2010 23:52:11 GMT -6
|
Post by Jack "Fraker" Reynolds on Oct 25, 2011 20:24:13 GMT -6
Jack's Raptor touched down gently in the nearest hanger. Terra was one of the few places the BCR could go inside Colonial territory without having to worry about Colonial issues since the terrans never fully cooperated with the colonial fleet and had rights to do their own thing. With the shopping lists already in progress with a number of BCR Raptors lifting off from the hanger and landing, Jack only had one task while on Terra: "shop" for the newest Terran ship design.
The White Fang was mainly a Terran ship, taken by Mal during the Cylon nuking of the original Terra. Ever since then, the BCR has trusted more Terran tech then the colonials or the cylons tech combined. This was just one of those occasions.
A Terran Government Official, one of the few that openly supports complete and utter separation between Terrans and Colonials, Was offering Jack plans to refit the White Fang, and possibly, if the refit was not chosen, a new battleship design. Jack, though cautious he may be about the official's reliance, was intrigued by the options and chose to come to the meeting. Lets see whats so special about this battleship design, he thought as he made his way out of the hanger.
|
|
General Odin Cotter
Terran Defense Forces
Commnader, Terran Defense Forces
Your Saviour
Posts: 178
Registered: Apr 25, 2011 16:40:34 GMT -6
|
Post by General Odin Cotter on Oct 25, 2011 21:35:18 GMT -6
*Pulling up to the driveway, hanging a right zipping to the mansion. Watching the soldier's do the job's, heading on over to one of our smaller ships where the Boss is being kept and being attended to.*
|
|
Jack "Fraker" Reynolds
Brown Coat Faction
Captain of the White Fang
what you plan and what takes place ain't exactly that similar
Posts: 2,635
Registered: Mar 28, 2010 23:52:11 GMT -6
|
Post by Jack "Fraker" Reynolds on Oct 27, 2011 19:04:13 GMT -6
After a short stroll through the bustling capital and a relatively silent ride in a dark car with tinted windows, Jack finally stepped out with his escorts, and stared at the mansion before him. wow, terrans sure know how to build them, he thought as he began to walk towards what jack would consider more of a fortress and less of a mansion. After the nuking of the first terra, it seemed to jack that the terrans grew to trust no one. just like how I have to be if the BCR is to thrive in this conflict.
The terran guards did not like the fact that Jack had a centurion in tow, but they were quickly ordered to step aside by an echoing voice at the front door of the mansion, beyond the gate. Jack turned to see the government official waving his guests over. From a first glance, Jack could only tell that this official was just like all the others: deceptive and only out for personal gain while keeping the voters happy. little did he know that there was a little bit more about the guy then first expected.
|
|
Jack "Fraker" Reynolds
Brown Coat Faction
Captain of the White Fang
what you plan and what takes place ain't exactly that similar
Posts: 2,635
Registered: Mar 28, 2010 23:52:11 GMT -6
|
Post by Jack "Fraker" Reynolds on Oct 27, 2011 19:35:19 GMT -6
(fast forwarding for time constraints. jack's talk with the official will fill this post later) (ship design given to Jack by the official)
|
|
|
Post by CylonOps on Jan 23, 2012 9:48:45 GMT -6
A lone figure walks down the main street of the Terran capital city, Corinth. The man attracts no attention from the many members of the Terran and Colonial military now present in the city. He smiles just a little, chuckling to himself in the process. Walking towards the building that houses the city government, the man stops and looks at the modest building. Opening the door, the man walks into the lobby, looking around. It was a shame he would have to die in the process of this mission, after all, he had just been "born", one of thousands of "new and improved" Cylon humanoid models, created in a lab by the Simon models. Instead of being stuck with the usual line of humanoid models, the Simons had managed to successfully (and finally) create new, separate humanoids by combining the DNA of the original humanoid models and DNA extracted from captured humans. Walking to the front lobby desk, the man smiled at the young Terran woman sitting there. Looking up, she smiled at the man. "May I help you Sir?" The man smiled back, placing his briefcase on the counter. Opening the briefcase, the man reached in and pressed a small red button before replying. "Yes, please forgive me for what is about to happen. Long live the Cylon Empire!" And with that, the explosion took out the entire lobby, the blast shooting upward and bringing the entire building down on itself, all five stories.
|
|
TerraOps
Terran Civilian
Chief, Terran Operations
Terra-beautiful, mysterious, but not what you think.
Posts: 403
Registered: Oct 30, 2010 21:41:12 GMT -6
|
Post by TerraOps on Jan 23, 2012 12:39:27 GMT -6
Standing outside of the debris field as crews attempt to close off the area, a young reporter with her crew and a tablet in hand began filming as it was broadcasted through radio to everyone; "I'm standing outside of a building that just an hour ago was standing here till it was vicious blown up by an unknown operative. Terran Intelligence, the Government and even Colonial Headquarters haven't commented yet but this is what we do know. A package was delivered to the President hours ago and from there he's issued a state of alert placing all orbital installations, cruisers and even Battlestars on alert and deployed the Colonial and Terran military. Vipers along with X-1's have been flying since then with a heavy contingent of tanks around the government buildings and military installations. A source has also revealed that Sec. of Defense, Alex Phoenix, has went MIA while onboard the Atlantia. With the call to arms so quickly, many are starting to wonder if there is any true danger to those of us who live on our peaceful world. This is Chief Reporter Roberto Yields and I'll keep you up to date on the situation."
|
|
General Odin Cotter
Terran Defense Forces
Commnader, Terran Defense Forces
Your Saviour
Posts: 178
Registered: Apr 25, 2011 16:40:34 GMT -6
|
Post by General Odin Cotter on Jan 23, 2012 23:59:01 GMT -6
*After a few centare's the Midlothian arrives above the city.* Midlothian
|
|
Clayton Dualla
Colonial Retired
Colonel
Terran Senior Technical Advisor
Posts: 5,380
Registered: Jul 3, 2011 19:48:16 GMT -6
|
Post by Clayton Dualla on Feb 11, 2012 20:45:15 GMT -6
As Clayton stepped off of the high-speed maglev train onto the platform at what was the largest railway station in the city, he was met by a pair of men in uniforms of Terran Security.
"Clayton Dualla? Colonel Dualla of the Colonial Fleet?" The shorter of the two, a severe-looking woman in the day uniform, spoke crisply yet courteously. Her companion, a man a handsbreath taller than Clayton and quite a bit broader, stood silently but menacingly behind her. There was no doubt that he was her 'muscle', there to ensure that whatever the woman was there for was accomplished. This wasn't the Fleet, so Clayton couldn't order the man to stand down, at least not legally.
"Not Colonel anymore, at least not active. I retired from the Fleet and emigrated. I mean to make Terra my home." The woman kept her face pinched.
"Be that as it may, Colonel, the Terran Defense Force has need of you." This was disconcerting to Dualla, though not wholly unexpected.
"What would they want with me, they need another pilot to fill the cockpit of an Adder?" Clayton turned on some sarcasm.
"Former Fleet Technical Advisor, Former Battlestar XO and CAG, inventor of a material called Herculite...."
"I didn't invent it," Clayton said truthfully. He mouth drew tighter.
"Yes you did, with others. You built some submarines with it on a planet called Earth. One of them could fly."
"What? They don't care about the gold records? I could sing at the next inauguration..."
"That's very flippant of you, Colonel Dualla. I can't speak here, but the TDF wants you to help with a problem." Clayton sighed. It wouldn't escape him, no matter where he went. He shrugged.
"Lead on."
|
|
Clayton Dualla
Colonial Retired
Colonel
Terran Senior Technical Advisor
Posts: 5,380
Registered: Jul 3, 2011 19:48:16 GMT -6
|
Post by Clayton Dualla on Feb 12, 2012 19:03:40 GMT -6
The pair of Terran Defense officers led Clayton to a structure on the edge of town. The security around it, with the guards and daggits, the razor-wire-topped fences, the gun towers, told him that it was an important military installation. By the lack of barrracks and platoons of troops, Dualla knew that it wasn't a standard base or a training facility. It had to be a headquarters. The gauntlet he had to go through to get in with his escorts only added to that opinion. Fingerprint, DNA sample, body metrics, retinal scan, he wondered why they hadn't taken blood. He didn't say anything because it would only give them ideas.
They went into an elevator that Clayton immediately recognized as a hardened one. The doors were like a bank vault's, and the lift was a bit rough. That told him how robust the gearing and cabling was. They'd eschewed smoothness for survivability. They left the elevator, and after going through another sentry post flanked by armored slide doors, they were shown to a nondescript office door. The guard opened the door to admit entrance. The woman, Clayton Dualla, and the tall Terran entered in that order. The Terra's spread out to his sides as they stood before a large wooden desk. Behind it was a grizzled man with graying hair. He did not look up at them, studying some maps on his blotter. Finally he looked up and glanced at Clayton's escorts. They saluted and departed, leaving the two alone. The old man stood and offered his hand.
"Greetings, Colonel Dualla. I'm General Hayes, Terran Defense. My apologies for the manner in which you were brought to us." Clayton took the proffered hand.
"I'm used to the military way. But I'm retired, General. What do you want with me? I'm just a singer and shipbuilder."
Hayes walked over to the bar off of the left side of the desk and poured two glasses of whiskey, not bothering to ask Dualla if he wanted on or now. This guy is used to being completely in charge, Clayton noted. Hayes gave one glass to Clayton and they took an initial sip.
"I know what you say you are, and I know there's a whole lot more to you than that. You wouldn't have been hand-picked by your Secretary of Defense and become part of the President's inner circle if you were only what you say you are."
Clayton knew that the man knew a good bit about him. He wondered how. Then he remembered Michael Thrax, who seemed to know too much about the workings of a Battlestar. The Fleet could be rife with spies. Clayton knew, though, that non-cooperation was probably ineffective.
"All right, General, I won't argue with you. So tell me what you, or whoever's behind or over you, wants with me?" Hayes responded by putting his glass down.
"Good. I like that directness, Colonel. Very well, I'll give it to you straight. There's credible evidence - way too much of it - that indicates an imminent Cylon attack on this planet. As a survivor of the original attack on the Twelve Colonies and on the planet Earth, I need to know from the viewpoint of a witness and a military man what to expect, and what we can do to prevent or minimize it." Clayton took a casual sip of his own whiskey. He rolled it around in his mouth before swallowing, taking time to play his part in this game.
"Fair enough, General. Since this is my adopted home, I should do everything I can to protect it. I'll tell you what they'll do and how they'll do it. You have to tell me, though, everything that Earth has in the way of defensive and counter-offensive weaponry and equipment. I can't properly help if I don't know everything we have to work with." Hayes picked his whiskey back up.
"Colonel Dualla, you've got yourself a deal."
|
|