The Largran fired his  blasters. Sanri Blasters,...the  Blast  hit the Targets  as they moves   at random .

  When Raja  was  done,  Chief  came over and  Nodded a bit.well.... not  bad.. you only missed the left one, once, you got a solid hit on the right  one, that would have taken them down... the other  shots, would have nicked up and put them  down, provide you could have peppered them like  you did.


 ..putting them down, is almost as good  as killing them...

Jamison opens fire when the targets begin moving.  He fires calmly, carefully placing double-taps into each target's center mass as they approach.

In reply to Raja (msg # 82):

The big largran nodded to the Chief:
"Iss Rajass intent with ssuch firing, to sslow and wound a masss of Avianss or other ssuch beingss in numbersss.
For when Flamer iss exhaussted, but enemiess are not?" The reptile tilted his snout sideways, in his version of a smile.

"Sset up again pleasse? Much practisse makess more perfect?"

While he waited, Raja observed the human and furred mammal in lane 1.

  The Chief   Nods and sets  up Raja with another set, of randoms. This Time the LArgran's  weapons   Hit, more center Mass and  only a  bit creep out the edges.

  Chief  gives Raja  a whack on the back,.. that's  alot better,  those  are Getting up, and may have  even  nicks  a few on the fringes .

  He    walks   back to his desk and   Nods to JAck,..That's   Raja.... found him..i dunno...somewhere... but  he sorta switched side....

In reply to Raja,Jack (msg # 85):

Raja nodded to the Chief, his yellow eyes brightened.
He was happy to explain himself to those few humans willing to listen.
"Raja joined Earth Mercenary Servicce ..after hiss Largran Commander betrayed hiss unit and left Raja for dead.
Ssincce Raja wass conccidered to be dead to hiss people,
he began a new life.

...Raja believess in living with Honor, asss a ssmall number of Largran peopless sstill do?
..But thiss iss an old and lesss fasshion way of thinking ssadly,
ssince Demon Empire thinking ...hass long dominated our culture."

The big reptile offered Jamison a handshake, if it appeared to be a welcome gesture?
His brownish leathery clawed hands were huge.

Garrat returns to his quarters and continues to work on assembly of the under armor through the night.  His mind is concerned for the crew on the proving grounds but he doesn't kno what to do till they get back to him.  The shattered star was a fiasco for Ajax but garrat can't really respond to the hint in the com with the info he knows.

   Maybe Bo can help.  Garrat gets on the com "Hey Bo, anyway you can get me a ride out to the proving grounds if I need one?"

In reply to Garrat Wolfrim (msg # 87):

   Bo had loaded the Betty and was flying chem drop while others looked after the children.  "Are you nuts?  No one goes to the proving ground.  In it'd history there have been around two dozen ships that have called for an emergancy landing there.  Not a one was ever heard from again."

In reply to Bo-Jagger (msg # 88):

   Garrat pauses what he's doing, "Really?   Again, there was no public out cry?  What's going on here?"

In reply to Garrat Wolfrim (msg # 89):

   Bo comes around and lines up at the right alditude for the next spray run.  Thr winds are still a little gusty from the storm so he has his nav computer set to help him maintain a straight line.

   "Well, you know, it's the usual Conspiracy Coverup Crap, it's a regular Area 51 up there.  The folks around the proving ground say that the lost ships have gone down in the wilderness and the wildlife got them.  Then provide a list of all the ones that did get out.  The skeptics weakly claim that no one has ever heard of those survivors and provide "leaked" footage or last minute sounds and sights from craft that "crashed" before they went dark showing everything from secret demon bases to proof of lost civilizations with varying levels of authenticity on all of them.  Heck the latest one with the Quarl "Mother ship" is pretty good but we'd be able to see it with the naked eye if it were really there."

   Bo adjusts a little for shifting wind sheer "No one knows what to believe so they just stay out of the bickering and go on with their lives."

In reply to Bo-Jagger (msg # 90):

Garrat texts to Bo
  "Well, I've got some buddies out there doing some tests that might be in a bad way soon.  What would it take to get you out there?"

   He sends a text off to Ajax: "If your dealing with a lot of people like Naomi's ex, it's bound to be a party.  If things get that good, just send Spencer and me a wish you were here text and we'll see if we can get permission to swing by." Garrat hoped he was cassual enough to get the point across.  He couldn't do this alone, and Spencer was the only one he could trust with enough clout to make things happen without it being a total political disaster like the Shattered star rescue.  Garrat had his doubts as to whether or not he could get there in time even if he secured transportation but he had to try.

   He receives a communication from Spencer about Gresh and grabs his gear and goes.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:31, Thu 07 Jan 2016.

In reply to Garrat Wolfrim (msg # 91):

  Permission to land from someone official in the ESN, and going in with the Black Betty is a bad Idea.  Sure you can use her to cover you but your going to want a shuttle and a bunch of buddies for something like this.  You also want official back up to be there as soon as possible."
   Bo banks for another pass "I might be able to get access to Missy's shuttle with Missy as pilot, but only if you promise to repair or replace it in the event of damage.  Your best bet is to find a ship and pilot of your own."

Flex from the RecDec

Teela seemed fascinated by the story of the Spartans and the Persians and listened intently. She would have to research them more when she had the chance. "They sound like laudable warriors, are they still extant? 'Come home carrying your shield, or being carried on it.' Truly their wives were as fierce as the men. Thank you for telling me this story."

She sighed as she mentioned the spirit of Re-Ma and wishing it more prevalent in her people. "It is but we find ourselves constrained by politicians and cowards who keep trying to tell us that we are 'tired of war' but they have never gone into battle and seen Demons feasting on our warriors as they still live. We tire of being sent into battle with our hands tied which is why is one of the reasons I have no regrets coming to Delta Fleet and the Hermes. The concept of Total War appeals to the warrior spirit in me that never tires of stories of Re-Ma and others as fierce as she was. Our leaders know that the leash has been slipped and the Beasts of War run into battle so hopefully our generation, or our children, may know the end of this endless conflict. I am glad to be here for many reasons."

Roy sighed, a little sadly, at the question about the Spartans.  "Their society fell, centuries ago...more a case of falling into the ways of the cultures around them...and the notion that there's always a bigger fish out there.  Macedonia, which was strongly influenced by the Greeks, ended up defeating them...in short order, Macedonia was defeated, by others...human history is a long string of cultures rising and falling, overwhelmed by larger cultures or growing corrupt and being swept aside by younger, more vigorous cultures.  Phoenicia, Greece, Macedonia, Carthage, Rome, the Goths, the Holy Roman Empire, Spain, the United Kingdom, the United States...the scale kept trending larger, and that was only in one specific branch of Earth's cultures.  China sustained itself as a cohesive society for centuries longer than many others, but they had successive waves of dynastic rulers who reshaped the culture, slightly, with their rise to power.  We know there were successive waves of cultures in South America, but the details of their rise and fall are largely sketchy, with the exception of the Aztecs and the Mayans, which fell victim to Spain..."

He chuckled softly.  "Sorry...I get philosophical about our history, sometimes.  The thing is, Humanity has never really known a long, lasting era of Peace.  War has been our state of existence as often as not, if not more often. And we got REALLY good at it.  But some of us fight for a cause, for freedom or security or just to maintain what we have.  Others fight for greed, power, or just out of fear of being swept aside.  And, still others fight, simply because they like to fight."  He shrugged.

"Genetically, I guess, we're predisposed for war.  If things stay too quiet for too long, someone will find something to fight about...we always have."  He started to grin, but it twisted, sourly, as he continued, "But it's very rare that we fight with the cohesion of purpose that the Spartans had, on that same scale.  Individual commanders have managed to inspire that kind of devotion, here and there in our history, but no culture has taken their place."

He glanced around the Rec Deck.  "I guess the Hermes is kind of the latest iteration of the Spartan ideal...only a lot more hedonistic.  Spartans probably wouldn't dance or sing like we've been doing..."  He laughed again, a genuine appreciation of the humor of comparing the relatively wild escapades of the Hermes crew.

"But that stand at the CP on Aqra?  Hack, Hennings, Shade, and the others?"  He nodded grimly.  "King Leonidas would have approved."

"The stand at the CP, leaders who lead from the front and aren't afraid of getting bloody and dirty, made me proud to be here. And never apologise for how you feel about your history. History informs who you are and I find it fascinating. Our people have been at her for a thousand thousand years and more but because we are so long-lived we didn't learn how to wage war to end it which is why Angels like Re-Ma are so important. More importantly it shaped you into the people you are today. With our people fighting together we will end the threat of the demons and their allies for good. I hope our people remain strong enemies and good friends after that end has come."

She smiled as he laughed. She liked his laugh - the laugh of a man confident in his own abilities and place in the Universe.

"Tell of your own life. I would know who Roy Spencer is besides a great warrior and soldier. But more than that - a poet. You have the soul of a warrior poet."

Roy gave a self-deprecating snort.  "Warrior, yes...poet?  I might have the spirit of one, but the vocabulary and talent, that got lost in shipping, somewhere, I guess..."  He gave another laugh.

"The condensed version is, my mother's health failed when I was still really young.  Modern medicine can do some miraculous things...but not if you live so remotely that you can't see a doctor when you get really sick.  Dad remarried...a Navajo woman, and we moved onto the Reservation with her, but I just never fit in, there.  Spent most of my teens on my own...I'd pack a few meals and a rifle, take a horse or even just hoof it myself, and just go out.  Get away from everyone and everything, which is pretty easy down there, and just spend a week or two living off the land.  Come back home long enough to reassure everyone that they didn't need to waste time on search parties..."  Warring emotions about that era of his life showed in his eyes...some of the memories were very fond...and some might have been part of what made him say yes to an open-ended Deep Space assignment.  "A Marine recruiter came through town one day...almost missed me because I was packing to head out again.  Someone got him talking about sharpshooters and my name came up...one of the guys my age called me...guess he was the closest thing to a friend I had, at the time.  Got me together with the recruiter...there was a sure-fire way to get away from the Res, and a decent enough paycheck, on top of it.  Went through Boot, scored highest in our firearms qualification tests out of the whole camp, on my first pass at it."

He quirked a grin and shrugged.  "Gunny Sergeant tells me he's sending me to sniper school, I breezed through because I'd been doing most of the stuff they were teaching for most of a decade.  Came out top of my class, and I've bounced from one deployment to the next ever since.  They were all Earthside, most dealing with radical Anti-Angel groups, until Hack requested me for part of the Hermes' crew, when he was originally staffing the ship."  He looked down with another chuckle, shaking his head, and added, " didn't know anything about space, aside from knowing that was where Demons and Angels had come from...first official combat action was rescuing a Sanri ambassador who'd fallen into Demon hands, and I had to ask my CO what a Sanri was, to make sure I didn't accidentally shoot the guy we were there to rescue."

He laughed at himself, with a distant gleam in his eye, a recollection of another lifetime, perhaps.  "I learned fast.  I've fought alongside as many different alien races as I've shot, which is a far cry from the Marine sergeant that boarded this tub."

She smiled with him again as he laughed. "I think you sell yourself short. I think the dedication that put you here where you are now, the talent that caught the interest of different people, those are your gifts, the spirit of the warrior poet. It's more than simply being talented in waging war. It's leading men and women into war and having them want to be beside you in the heat of battle. It's more than writing sonnets but saying the right things to someone too scared to get out of the place in which they are hiding and inspiring them to not only get up but stand with you and fight. You can inspire others to greatness and let them know you would kill or die for them. The men and women you lead know that you are there for them. That is your warrior's soul and poet's gift, Roy."

Roy chuckled drily.  If you say so...I have a very different image come to mind when I hear 'warrior poet'.  The leadership and inspiration is something I learned from those who went before me, not some inherent gift I have.  Shooting?  That came naturally.  To a lesser extent, so did all the fieldcraft.  But the leadership and communication?  That took a lot of hard work, and it's still not something I'm entirely comfortable with."

He gave a grin that was half-grimace, and added, "But part of my training has always been finding a way to do the job, even when it's not comfortable.  The Admiral needed a Security Chief, back when he was still just a Commander, and he picked me...so I dug in a figured out how to do it.  The Corps needed a Sergeant Major for the space operations...and they chose me.  So I figured out how to do it.  I try not to think about what they'll throw at me next..."  He gave another short chuckle.

"But I'm infinitely more comfortable running around on a mountainside in the dark, either alone or with a spotter, and lining up on a target a kilometer away and pulling the trigger than I'll ever be having to be a leader.  I didn't want it...certainly didn't ask for it...but that's what they needed me to be for the war effort, so that's what I became."

"I love flying, obviously, but there is something to be said for being out with a rifle and stalking your enemies. When I went through my early training I was found to have natural affinity with long-distance shooting as well as flying so I eventually found myself in the Angel Elite as a pilot and scout-sniper. Who knows, maybe one day we'll be out there together shooting enemies a kilometer or more away," she said with a grin.

"Speaking of - what is that rifle you use? It's massive and I saw you using it on enemy fighters so it obviously has some power."

Roy grinned.  "It's an antique, in a way...Barrett .50 caliber.  They were initially developed in the late 20th Century, on Earth, and fire one of the largest rifle rounds humans ever made.  You could shoot a target THROUGH a brick wall at five hundred meters with a standard round...and they made rounds that were far more destructive.  I've actually taken a target through the cockpit metaglass with one."  He chuckled, adding, "I've actually got a small collection of them, started by Shadow.  No idea where he came up with them...not altogether certain I want to know.  The others were a gift from a black-market contact that has been a Delta Fleet asset for...well...since before it was a fleet, back when it was just the Hermes and the Harvester."

He grinned again.  "Built up quite the assortment of sniper rifles, beyond the Barretts...there's a Largran model I picked up on Anzio...the old owner didn't need it anymore...great optics on it, possibly the best I've ever used...and it makes REALLY big holes in people...or Largrans...even Verians...and it's hard to make holes in Verians."

"I have two Angelsteel rifles. Well...had. I lost one when my Nova went underwater on the plateau back on Aqra so now just the one. Do you think you could show me the Barret .50 caliber. I'm intrigued by its power and range."

She appeared lost in thought for a moment. "I collect sidearms and knives. I actually have my duty-mandated weapons on me but perhaps a collection of rifles would be good to work on."

Roy grinned.  "Well, if you build a collection, they have to live in the Quartermaster's, aside from the one long-arm that's allowed in your quarters..."  He shook his head slightly, adding, "That's practically inviolable...almost as high on the Admiral's list as having a sidearm and blade on you at all times."  He was almost laughing as he said it.

"But we can arrange a test-run with the Barrett sometime, certainly.  'When' is all a question of how long things stay quiet..."

"As long as I can visit them and let them know I still care," she said with a small laugh. "Maybe we'll have some time before we get to Anzio or make a decision on if there's going to be another Delta Night. If not before maybe after. We'll figure things out."

Roy grunted softly.  "I'd just about bet money there's another Delta Night at Anzio.  We disrupted operations, certainly...cut the head off a few snakes, as it were.  But we didn't really have much time to stabilize things, and I'm sure there are subordinates and minions who decided the power vacuum that resulted was a great opportunity  to better their positions.  And when we get back, they'll all pay lip service to the APF.  It'll take a little digging to find out who's still got active contacts that they shouldn't have, and who's just crooked enough to play double-agent for us, or who's been trying to go legit and couldn't in the existing environment."  He sighed and nodded.

"Yeah, there will be plenty to do.  The big question will be, how much needs to happen covertly, versus how much do we want done in broad daylight to send a message.  I'm sure there will be something for you to do, one way or another..."

FLEX

From FUJI CONDO

Anita gave a Roy half smile No offence SM, I wasn't asking for you to take on the responsibilities of New Editor; doing so would be like you assigning me to take down the Tyrant Queen from 2800-3000 meters, in the dark in a Defensive Bunker. There may be similarities between what you are capable of and Positioning Hover Cams for a distant shot but the outcomes differ vastly. Providing a Security Chief's view on footage that's compromising and borderline is more than sufficient for the purpose.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:55, Sun 12 May 2019.

Flex

Waited for the SM to respond Anita considered the things she had been told by him.

Gathering her equipment she gave the Marine a parting nod, of thanks, she'd got a few pointers about who to steer clear off and learnt a little about the fellow.

Checking her webmail and diary Anita realised there wasn't enough time left to do much of anything. Anita decided to return to the Hermes so she could organize her cabin and get some rest. After all it just wouldn't do to appear tired during any interview, camera's mercilessly add the appearance of pounds, wrinkles and blemishes to the everyone it was focussed on.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:26, Sat 18 May 2019.