Bay 12 Games Forum

In for Magnus.

Plan:
Plan v3: (4) NUKE9.13, Thanik, AC, ConscriptFive

Santa Letter:
TTE+Nik's Letter: (2) NUKE9.13, Thanik
ConscriptFive's Letter: (2) AC, ConscriptFive

Other:
Release "ON THE SUBJECT OF DOMESTIC TERRORISM": (4) NUKE9.13, Thanik, AC, ConscriptFive
Do not release the above:

[/quote]

Switched to a different cell.

So, here's a super grounded one...

The Group
Motto: "De Opresso Liber"

We knew it was bad when they called us off the counter-ISIS mission, but we had no idea it would all end up like this.  Some people ask, where was most powerful military alliance in the world when the aliens came?  Well remember those green gas pods?  The ones that turn humans into those zombie-like feral monsters?  Guess what happened to Bragg, Benning, Campbell, and Lewis?  They didn't stop stateside, so went Ramstein, Al Udeid, Rota, and Lemmonier.  They even when after the FOBs for fuck sakes, Bagram, Kandahar, Victory Base Camp Baghdad - all goddamn zombies now.  So where was the most powerful military alliance twenty years ago?  They're still right where you left them.

The good news was that smaller patrol bases and safe houses were apparently completely off ADVENT's radar.  A Green Beret ODA Team deployed to Syria made it as far out of the Middle East to East Istanbul, until they realized the whole world had fallen and there was no point fleeing further.  This ODA Team and their safehouse gradually became a nucleus for deployed service members and their indigenous allies who made it out of the horrors of the Middle East.

Founded by low key operators, "The Group," retains the apt Green Beret motto "De Opresso Liber" (To Free the Oppressed).  Originally predominantly white Americans from Special Operations Forces (SOF) background, the Group is now mostly NATO country veterans.  More recently, handfuls of local Turks, as well as stray Russian, Syrian, and Iraqi operators have been welcomed into the resistance.  Fiercely loyal formal local interpreters from Iraq, Syria, and Kurdish territories also comprise a substantial faction in the Group.

Salim Shahid wasn't entirely surprised by Forenian's failings.  "If only they'd listened to me..." he thought.  The ethnic Moskburg engineer had collaborated on several designs which saw production, but none of his personal prototypes were ever adopted.

As the Capital erupted in chaos, Salim found his way to the test airfield.  "Ah, my Shepard.  How much dear Tereshkova would've loved you," he remarked aloud.  A Reckless Effect military transport to be rebuilt as a command and control bird, he'd just succeeded in pressurizing the full cabin before the project was cut.  Knowing this day would come, he had secretly continued to work on the prototype for his own ends.

"Today is the day I leave Forenia," he thought to himself.

Salim would flee this god forsaken archipelago and found his own engineering firm abroad.  Ideally he would settle in a liberal and decadent country, full of blackjack and hookers.

The funny thing about unadopted prototypes was that they're so quickly forgotten, the Inspector General didn't even bother to cross-check with accounting that budgeted systems were even built.  The radar and next gen commo suite on the Shepard?  Only a mockup and never actually purchased.  The mangalloy frame and plating on the HuMAAR 4x4 prototype?  A salvaged AS-MV21-AL frame and plating that certainly wasn't modern mangalloy.  The Baby Bjorn?  The war ended before the parts were even delivered.

Shahid had embezzled quite the nest egg over the last two years, more than enough to seed his entrepreneurial dreams abroad.  A small cache of gold ingots were concealed in the Shepard's cockpit, a few still stamped with Reichsadlers.

Alas, Shahid lacked two final components of his getaway: a pilot and in-flight entertainment.

Under the blaring alarm sirens, the test pilot barracks were empty, except for one bunk.  An one-armed pilot sloppily weeped to himself, apparently intoxicated on what Shahid hoped was just alcohol.  The man clutched an old insignia pin of the 7th Ground Attack Squadron in his tear-drenched hand.  The ex-Haast pilot would have to do.

As Shahid led the shattered man to the hangar, he heard a distinct chuckle as the Shepard came into view.  The Shepard had been painted in fluorescent orange and black diagonal stripes, marking the plane as a protected ambulance.  The fellow Moskburg pilot probably appreciated the passing resemblance to tiger stripes.

"Today is the day we leave Forenia, my friend.  Fuel and prep the plane for departure, and I'll be back shortly."

As for in-flight entertainment, the test airfield was largely abandoned at the beginning of the armistice.  With the sudden coup underway, Civil Defense officers had since been broadcasting for civilians to take to bomb shelters for their own safety.  Which was likely the best, as Salim also knew other engineers had their own side prototypes they'd soon unleash upon the capital city.  At least the nearest civilian shelter wasn't too far a walk from the test airfield.

As gunfire erupted in the distance, Salim was comforted that he still carried his father's old Five Shooter pistol on his belt.  The so-called "Greatest Generation" had wielded this hunk of Moskburg steel for years in the war against Arstozka.  It was a hero's gun.  Salim could only wonder if his own generation would be so fondly venerated.

With the grade school cellar door in view, Salim fantasized the next few steps of his plan.  Kicking the door open like a badass, he would announce himself as a secret police agent (which of course he wasn't).  Striking a dashing pose in the backlit doorway, he would announce he'd come to rescue all willing women to a fantastic life abroad, full of champagne wishes and caviar dreams.  "Of course this flying harem would be *very grateful*, if you know what I mean," he snickered to himself.  Even then, refugees, a plane in the middle of the ocean, a Five Shooter... "The implication," he muttered with a mischievous grin.

Salim was immediately thwarted when he found the cellar door was hinged to swing outward.  Flinging the door open as a show of alpha machismo, Salim stood aghast.  The grade school cellar was full of terrified children.  Even in the low light of the cellar, the purple star lapel pins most wore were plainly visible.  The supposed "award" was granted to a child who had lost at least one parent in combat.  The huddled masses crowded around a handful of female teachers and other caretakers who were trying the best to comfort them.

Salim's stupor was broken by the utterance of the bespectacled school Head Mistress standing guard inside the cellar,  "Get in or shut the damn door!  Today is not the day for this!"

Indeed, today was not the day.

Resigned, Salim explained to her about the Shepard at the test airfield down the road.  He handed her his military ID,  "Give this to the pilot and tell him I won't be coming.  Inshallah, he'll be able to get all of you out of here."

She looked at him gratefully yet still with a bit of skepticism, "Inshallah... and thank you."

With the Head Mistress leading her ragged parade towards evacuation at the airfield, Salim climbed the grade school stairs onto the roof of the building.  Numerous heavy black smoke trails were visible along the horizon, surely a few of which were wrecked Salamander IFVs.  One of Salim's first team projects was as a junior engineer on the Salamander Pattern F, a Salamander re-engineered to spit napalm at anything within a hundred meters.  In the distance, he heard the distinct whistle of an Artemis rocket, another project he worked on.  Still, Salim was best known among the Engineering Department for the dubious honor of naming the "Pegleg" aerial munition.  After years of dreaming and building increasingly horrifying ways to take lives, it was comforting to think his engineering would be saving lives for once.

As Salim Shahid watched the Forenian capital burn before him, his father's old Five Shooter weighed heavily on his hip.  That was the thing about traditional Moskburg design.  From the Stallion, to the Horsekiller, to the modern Horsekiller II, all were oversized but hard hitting weapons.  Salim had never seen combat personally, but knew the common adage.  "Enough to kill a man in a single shot," he mused to himself.

"Perhaps today is the day I leave Forenia afterall."

UFAF-MTA-45 Shepard Airliner

Once an incomplete revision of the Reckless Effect into a pressurized flying command and control center, the Shepard prototype has been completed as a pressurized airliner.  The "Captain's Cabin," originally an office for the commanding officer, has a relatively large bed installed in it along with a polished vertical brass pole of no discernible function.  The bedding is surprisingly luxurious, apparently made from Trustfall parachute silk.  The RADAR station has been replaced with an apparent bar counter intended to be stocked with liquor.  The rest of the cargo bay has been less opulently renovated with rows of basic wooden chairs bolted to the floor.  The exterior of the plane is largely unchanged from the fundamentally solid Reckless Effect airframe, barring the intentionally striking orange and black striped paint scheme to designate the aircraft as a protected vehicle.
The sole Shepard is to be piloted by a one-armed psychologically traumatized ex-Haast pilot who may or may not have substance abuse issues.  The aircraft will be carrying two to five adult civilians who may or may not be capable of assisting with operating the aircraft.  The cargo bay will be occupied by twenty to fifty children.  A small cache of gold ingots, of both German and other provenance, is hidden in a compartment in the cockpit which may or may not be discovered by its occupants.  The pilot has been given relatively open-ended orders to evacuate its passengers out of Forenia.

While I would've preferred something craftier for the convention, I can tentatively +1 Plan v3.  Also, the press release is nice touch.  How are we going to feel out Thantros' plan for the convention (somebody going to ping them on core thread or we waiting for them to make the first move?)  And how much you want to bet it involves a bunch of dudes with grenade launchers in a magic box?

Looks interesting.  Haven't done the exact math, but here's two.  The lab looks like a risky bloodbath if we go in anything but heavy, and I'd rather win the Campaign mission.  @GM, I'm not sure I fully understand the bank mission.  Since it's essentially a cybercrime, what kind of physical access do we need?

Diego Extraction:

Scientist Shellgame Escort:

Hmm, is it possible to wear just a piece of light armor under winter clothing?  Being able to use just the chest piece of the combat suit would be nice for that kind of undercover focused mission.  Seems like a bit of a waste to spend a revision action telling our operatives to cut the damn sleeves off.

I'll come up with a writeup for event security in abit.

Something to keep in mind: the problem with one-off art commissions is that it can get tough to keep the artwork stylistically consistent between artists.  If you end up patching in more content or other DLC later, you're stuck having to find that guy again or go and redo everything.