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Yeah its an RP, that people in the region are welcome to join. Its gonna be a war so yeah, its possible for the two alliances to get involved on either sides. This is the thread here! All the info is on the thread, its OOC so yeah! |
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Delesa |
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Royal Scribe |
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ok so my introduction to the region will be this RP, its gonna get started soon, just have to recover the files, patch some holes and then BAM, its good  |
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A little clip from the begining of the confederate story just to tickle some people's intrests. Although it is closed it should be a good read with such RP story artists as Azazia and Kilrany. Any feed back to quality of RPing and where the story is going, post here or the OOC Jolt thread. Much appreciated!
Several hundred miles south of the Commonwealth shores lay a chain of small islands, the main about the size of Puerto Rico, with a single major city Lithisis close to mid-island. The islands have no real name, although known to most as Haven or Oil Haven, as they are not part of either the Commonwealth or Confederacy, although as the area is fairly rich in oil, the seas not the land, the Commonwealth had been harvesting its black gold since the dawn of the complications of the occupation of the Virgin Isles by Kreatvye. Now the Confederacy had taken a similar idea. Units of the Confederate Armies built barracks and bases on the islands, or occupied old Commonwealth ones.
These islands were off the record, and an unofficial war was waged, not by the Countries, as that would spark a much larger war, but rather between companies. The Confederate Units were listed as ‘Mercenary’ Regiments under the employment of Confederate Oil Sands Inc. or COS. Commonwealth Petro hired units to protect there interests, many of those men and equipment formerly Delesian Armed Forces.
It was the fuel for the much larger events to come, but no one knew that at the time, all they could think about was how much this would affect the price of oil?
***
Bruce Howe sat atop his tank, his buttocks resting on top of the tank, his legs hanging down into the commander’s hole. The M60A3 main battle tank sat in the middle of the street, a small car crushed partially by the front treads, its engines silent. The tank had scene plenty of action before, and there were scars to show it, but those were past battles with previous owners.
Bruce held a pair of binoculars to his eyes, trying to scan down the road, but columns of heavy black smoke, combined with the fog made it difficult.
On the right side of the turret, a large scrape indicated an armour piercing round had just missed its target, and over that was a fresh coat of paint of the Commonwealth Petro logo, with the number 564 in white blocky letters beneath that.
Behind that tank sat another two M60s, each with the engines off. They sat in a loose triangle, all watching down street, each commander peering closely for that big surprise.
The sun cut through some parts of the clouds above, but only slivers made it through. The streets of Lithisis were a mess, with metal and cement thrown up and discarded everywhere. Then the slivers of light disappeared as a light rain begun to fall.
“Christ, they really think we can do our job in this weather? I can’t see dink.” grumbled Bruce softly.
“What was that chief?”
“Oh nothing, just bitching. Turn on the thermo and see if you can pick out anything thing through the smoke and fire.”
“Yes sir.” Tyler flicked a switch and the screen in front of the driver lit up, but revealed nothing. Fires that created the black smoke was too much for the cheap equipment. “Man I think my gramps fought in one of these.” he commented as he smacked the screen.
“Tyler! Ease up! We won’t get no replacement if you brake it! It’s better then nothing.”
“Sorry sir.” A jet roared above in the skies, but Bruce couldn’t see it through the fog and smoke, so he weren’t sure it was a boogie or buddy, but it didn’t matter either way; they probably couldn’t see them anyways.
Them a crack of gun fire was heard in the distance, the distinctive pop of the AK, then a short burst from a FN FAL in retaliation. The AK belonged to the COS and the FAL to the CP. It would be too dangerous to send a round down range, just for the hell of it, a CP merc might get in the way. But the AK cut back in and the FAL seized to return fire, either dead or running. Bloody typical thought Bruce. The CP forces were not putting up much of a fight. They would rather return back to base and be alive to receive their pay then to fight and win in a heavy firefight.
“Screw it! Load round!”
“Load round!” came the reply from inside. “Round Ready!” a few seconds later.
“Send it down straight!” the turret adjusted under Bruce’s buttocks and recoiled as the 120mm round shot from it’s casing out the smoothbore barrel. An explosion ripped in the distance, the damage unknown. But to Bruce’s surprise a shot was fired in retaliation, no where close, but a shot none the less. Then he saw it, the fog seemed to lift, and out of the smoke rumbled two T-80 Russian made COS tanks. The tank on the left fired and the round smacked into the front armour of the M60 on Bruce’s left. It burst into flames, the crew jumped out, burning, trying to put the flame out in the puddles. But they just burnt. Bruce didn’t watch all of it, he was already barking orders.
“CHRIST! Back her up!” the M60 roared to life and begun the slow reverse in panic, managing to slam into the disabled M60.The new D4 Industries diesel engines managed to produce more power and send the M60 tank down the road at 55 mph on a good day, but none the less it was better then the original 30. Tyler cranked it into forward gears, beginning a tank on tank game of chicken, closing the distance quickly, but pulling into the street to the right. The treads ripping the ground, a T80 shell just missing the tank, rather hitting the building. Bruce was already down the hatch, trying to find the map of the city and a way out of the current problem. One M60 gone, crew unknown, and the other running still in reverse the last time he looked back.
Tyler took the M60 through several alley’s and streets till they ended up parked in a parkade downtown, on the wrong side of the line. The M60 could hold 63 rounds, but Bruce was only allowed 40 per patrol, now he had 39. The -explicitive removed- had hit the fan. |
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Delesa |
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Royal Scribe |
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Posts: 181 |
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