Mr Zoat
Dedicated ragequitter
- Joined
- Dec 1, 2016
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28th May 2284
23:52 GMT -7
Having friends is great.
SHWOOOOOOOOOOO!
I wince as I readjust my headphones.
But the premature deafness that I've condemned everyone on board this nuclear-powered plasma-thruster-driven WS-521 aside, having friends is great.
The N.C.R. had no way to redeploy its army north fast enough to matter, but by borrowing transport planes from everyone willing to help out, as well as utilising troops from friendly nations not currently involved in hunting down Legion remnants, we were able to put together a force to attack the southern part of the Washington Brotherhood's territory. Robots from Vault City, power armour, aircraft and mechanised units from Heaven's Gate, N.C.R. rangers and Arroyo tribals… And a large number of surprisingly biddable mirelurks. The Washington Brotherhood didn't leave much of a garrison, and what was there was mostly poorly organised raiders lead by their own war chiefs.
The few actual Brotherhood of Steel members who've been captured are heading south to explain themselves to High Elder Törni. Given how devoted to the Immortal they've been, taking them alive has proven quite difficult. Fortunately, my people have gotten pretty good on picking up on their thoughts, which has made actually finding them simple enough.
And while that's been going on, aerial and satellite reconnaissance combined with Wardens of the White on the ground to give us an excellent picture of where the Washington Brotherhood's greatest troop concentrations are. Attack planes and bombers from the Kingdom of Manitoba ravaged those without sufficient air defences, and the zetan Mothership took shots at the largest and best defended ones… At least those that are far enough from civilian areas to do so without inflicting massive civilian casualties.
Knights of the Order of Saint George are moving through Wardens territory, but it's hard to bring significant men or materials through the mountains. Element of the Kingdom of Manitoba's regular army are moving through the narrow passes south of the mountains to support Heaven's Gate's push north. A push made easier by the orbital fire support from the Mothership and Helios, and by the maps we've been able to provide.
But that's far to the south of where I am, flying towards the Alaskan fortifications of the former United States of America. A handful of WS-521s and Vertibird transports, escorted by three zeta saucers, two dozen Plutonian nuclear fighters and a dozen Vertibird gunships. Onboard, myself and a squad of Ghosts, a dozen or so smart super mutant N.C.R rangers who can survive the cold without extra assistance, Brotherhood Paladins of the Lost Hills and Mojave chapters and the more nervous looking Knights of the Order of St. George led by their ever-cheerful Grand Master.
I would not want to be on the receiving end of us.
We already know where the enemy facility is. We've already reviewed the orbital and aerial photographs. And-.
There's a flash of light from somewhere in front of us, visible through the plane's front window.
And with a little luck the stuff on the surface will mostly have been taken care of by the time we arrive. But with a lot of the satellites still down and the Mothership needed for a dozen different operations, we're not going to be getting constant updates. And we can't use the Dream Twister because, 1, people would see that the magical weirdos have a strategic weapon and 2, because we need people to have their minds intact to be interrogated.
So not a cake walk, but as easy as it can be. Negotiating with Heaven's Gate afterwards will be more difficult.
"Power Armor! One minute to drop zone!"
The Paladins mostly just nod and recheck their gear, but the Knights start twitching. Standard Operating Procedure for Paladin deployment involves landing the vertibird they're on, having them pile out and then it taking off again. But pre-War America developed thruster packs that in theory should allow them to jump out of a plane and not become an iron-rich pancake. Apparently the Capital Wasteland Brotherhood came across the design in the Pentagon but never had any need for them since the didn't have any vertibirds. They sent the design to Lost Hills who were experimenting so see if it worked, and…
Ah, they should be honoured to be part of the first field trials.
"Opening rear door! Get ready!"
A mechanical whine fills the cabin, followed by the road of winds that tried to compete with the road of the engines. Paladins and Knights take careful hold of the wall-mounted handles as they stand and prepare to deploy.
One of the Knights crosses himself, another mutters prayers and the third has the words 'don't die' on a loop inside his head. Daniel's in another plane.
"Brothers and Sisters!" Star Paladin Mark Talus takes position by the door, facing inwards. "Today we do not merely bring justice to those who have betrayed the precepts of our Brotherhood! Today we prevent the use of the use of those very same weapons that burned the world to ash two hundred years ago! The most important part of the mission which Roger Maxson entrusted to us! Report readiness!"
"Ready!" / "Ready!" / "Ready!" / "Ready!" / "Ready!" / "Ready!" /
"We're over the drop zone. GO!"
Talus turns, runs down the cargo ramp and leaps out of the plane, dropping out of sight behind us. Without hesitation, the other Paladins follow.
With a slight but understandable degree of hesitation, the Knights follow them.
Once the last of them is out, I press the activation button on the intercom. "Power armour away."
"One minute to next drop site."
I stand, telekinetically grasping the plane around me. My four ghosts do likewise. We're not using rocket boosters to steady our descent, and we're not using parachutes either. Each of us are perfectly capable of controlling our descent with telekinesis, and if one of the others has a stroke or heart attack on the way down then I can carry them myself.
Through the opening in the plane I can just about see the flares from the power armour wearers activating their thrusters. Then I turn back to my squad.
"Mark targets and relay their locations. Don't get seen, don't get shot. Everyone ready?"
Four nods.
"Then walk the skies."
I walk backwards and then back flip out of the plane, watching it accelerate away as I fall. I then turn prone, reaching out with my mind to try to find-.
**[A picture of the ground below us, the locations of the partially mechanical thoughts of the Black Paladins marked, along with the thoughts of other people.]**
I feel confirmation from the Ghosts, and then an acknowledgement from the telepath staying on the plane to relay things to or colleagues.
I also feel the Ghosts ready themselves, but… Ah. Tribal leadership is so much about charisma and personal impact. Personal heroism. I could just do what they're doing, but some of those Black Paladins are heavily dug in inside concealed dugouts.
I see tracer fire as ground-based weapons open fire, as well as fairly speculative shots from the Brotherhood's own fighters. They look like… Early War jet fighters? The Plutonians accelerate towards them while the vertibirds release their missiles.
And here comes the ground and-.
The kinetic energy goes that way.
I land lightly and the snow in front of me explodes. And so does the earth, and the trees, and the small observation post with the three raiders, and so do the raiders. I take a moment to check my relative position from the minds of the Ghosts still in the air, confirm my landing, and take off at a walk while waiting to hear the results of the opening salvo.
"Dugout one good hit, dugout two partial, dugout three negative impact…"
I picture those locations in my head.
**We're hitting dugout two and then moving on. The power armour can easily deal with what's left.**
I feel five confirmations, draw my plasma pistol, and then start moving at a jog as the other Ghosts land around me and follow my lead.
23:52 GMT -7
Having friends is great.
SHWOOOOOOOOOOO!
I wince as I readjust my headphones.
But the premature deafness that I've condemned everyone on board this nuclear-powered plasma-thruster-driven WS-521 aside, having friends is great.
The N.C.R. had no way to redeploy its army north fast enough to matter, but by borrowing transport planes from everyone willing to help out, as well as utilising troops from friendly nations not currently involved in hunting down Legion remnants, we were able to put together a force to attack the southern part of the Washington Brotherhood's territory. Robots from Vault City, power armour, aircraft and mechanised units from Heaven's Gate, N.C.R. rangers and Arroyo tribals… And a large number of surprisingly biddable mirelurks. The Washington Brotherhood didn't leave much of a garrison, and what was there was mostly poorly organised raiders lead by their own war chiefs.
The few actual Brotherhood of Steel members who've been captured are heading south to explain themselves to High Elder Törni. Given how devoted to the Immortal they've been, taking them alive has proven quite difficult. Fortunately, my people have gotten pretty good on picking up on their thoughts, which has made actually finding them simple enough.
And while that's been going on, aerial and satellite reconnaissance combined with Wardens of the White on the ground to give us an excellent picture of where the Washington Brotherhood's greatest troop concentrations are. Attack planes and bombers from the Kingdom of Manitoba ravaged those without sufficient air defences, and the zetan Mothership took shots at the largest and best defended ones… At least those that are far enough from civilian areas to do so without inflicting massive civilian casualties.
Knights of the Order of Saint George are moving through Wardens territory, but it's hard to bring significant men or materials through the mountains. Element of the Kingdom of Manitoba's regular army are moving through the narrow passes south of the mountains to support Heaven's Gate's push north. A push made easier by the orbital fire support from the Mothership and Helios, and by the maps we've been able to provide.
But that's far to the south of where I am, flying towards the Alaskan fortifications of the former United States of America. A handful of WS-521s and Vertibird transports, escorted by three zeta saucers, two dozen Plutonian nuclear fighters and a dozen Vertibird gunships. Onboard, myself and a squad of Ghosts, a dozen or so smart super mutant N.C.R rangers who can survive the cold without extra assistance, Brotherhood Paladins of the Lost Hills and Mojave chapters and the more nervous looking Knights of the Order of St. George led by their ever-cheerful Grand Master.
I would not want to be on the receiving end of us.
We already know where the enemy facility is. We've already reviewed the orbital and aerial photographs. And-.
There's a flash of light from somewhere in front of us, visible through the plane's front window.
And with a little luck the stuff on the surface will mostly have been taken care of by the time we arrive. But with a lot of the satellites still down and the Mothership needed for a dozen different operations, we're not going to be getting constant updates. And we can't use the Dream Twister because, 1, people would see that the magical weirdos have a strategic weapon and 2, because we need people to have their minds intact to be interrogated.
So not a cake walk, but as easy as it can be. Negotiating with Heaven's Gate afterwards will be more difficult.
"Power Armor! One minute to drop zone!"
The Paladins mostly just nod and recheck their gear, but the Knights start twitching. Standard Operating Procedure for Paladin deployment involves landing the vertibird they're on, having them pile out and then it taking off again. But pre-War America developed thruster packs that in theory should allow them to jump out of a plane and not become an iron-rich pancake. Apparently the Capital Wasteland Brotherhood came across the design in the Pentagon but never had any need for them since the didn't have any vertibirds. They sent the design to Lost Hills who were experimenting so see if it worked, and…
Ah, they should be honoured to be part of the first field trials.
"Opening rear door! Get ready!"
A mechanical whine fills the cabin, followed by the road of winds that tried to compete with the road of the engines. Paladins and Knights take careful hold of the wall-mounted handles as they stand and prepare to deploy.
One of the Knights crosses himself, another mutters prayers and the third has the words 'don't die' on a loop inside his head. Daniel's in another plane.
"Brothers and Sisters!" Star Paladin Mark Talus takes position by the door, facing inwards. "Today we do not merely bring justice to those who have betrayed the precepts of our Brotherhood! Today we prevent the use of the use of those very same weapons that burned the world to ash two hundred years ago! The most important part of the mission which Roger Maxson entrusted to us! Report readiness!"
"Ready!" / "Ready!" / "Ready!" / "Ready!" / "Ready!" / "Ready!" /
"We're over the drop zone. GO!"
Talus turns, runs down the cargo ramp and leaps out of the plane, dropping out of sight behind us. Without hesitation, the other Paladins follow.
With a slight but understandable degree of hesitation, the Knights follow them.
Once the last of them is out, I press the activation button on the intercom. "Power armour away."
"One minute to next drop site."
I stand, telekinetically grasping the plane around me. My four ghosts do likewise. We're not using rocket boosters to steady our descent, and we're not using parachutes either. Each of us are perfectly capable of controlling our descent with telekinesis, and if one of the others has a stroke or heart attack on the way down then I can carry them myself.
Through the opening in the plane I can just about see the flares from the power armour wearers activating their thrusters. Then I turn back to my squad.
"Mark targets and relay their locations. Don't get seen, don't get shot. Everyone ready?"
Four nods.
"Then walk the skies."
I walk backwards and then back flip out of the plane, watching it accelerate away as I fall. I then turn prone, reaching out with my mind to try to find-.
**[A picture of the ground below us, the locations of the partially mechanical thoughts of the Black Paladins marked, along with the thoughts of other people.]**
I feel confirmation from the Ghosts, and then an acknowledgement from the telepath staying on the plane to relay things to or colleagues.
I also feel the Ghosts ready themselves, but… Ah. Tribal leadership is so much about charisma and personal impact. Personal heroism. I could just do what they're doing, but some of those Black Paladins are heavily dug in inside concealed dugouts.
I see tracer fire as ground-based weapons open fire, as well as fairly speculative shots from the Brotherhood's own fighters. They look like… Early War jet fighters? The Plutonians accelerate towards them while the vertibirds release their missiles.
And here comes the ground and-.
The kinetic energy goes that way.
I land lightly and the snow in front of me explodes. And so does the earth, and the trees, and the small observation post with the three raiders, and so do the raiders. I take a moment to check my relative position from the minds of the Ghosts still in the air, confirm my landing, and take off at a walk while waiting to hear the results of the opening salvo.
"Dugout one good hit, dugout two partial, dugout three negative impact…"
I picture those locations in my head.
**We're hitting dugout two and then moving on. The power armour can easily deal with what's left.**
I feel five confirmations, draw my plasma pistol, and then start moving at a jog as the other Ghosts land around me and follow my lead.
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