ABS FIESTA REDUX

Poll

period race

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Author Topic: ABS FIESTA REDUX  (Read 1232229 times)

Mr. Hurricane

March 22, 2015, 12:21:12 PM
I punch the canopy.

"loving stuff! All of my stuff was on there!" I yell into the radio.

I form up onto the AWACS and start following it to the nearest airbase.

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Operator¹

March 22, 2015, 12:26:43 PM
wow you don't really care about your countrymen

Qwepir

March 22, 2015, 12:35:22 PM
hes probably glad tech sergeant smugnose got wasted tho

Mr. Hurricane

March 22, 2015, 12:36:01 PM
Quote from: Qwepir on March 22, 2015, 12:35:22 PM
hes probably glad tech sergeant smugnose got wasted tho

no that's junkers

but we all know nosebitch will always find her way home.

xxxxkill

March 22, 2015, 12:38:45 PM
If anybody was wondering what the Raiden Squadron emblem or aircraft looked like, it's this.
Granted, those aircraft patterns aren't exact, but that's more or less the aesthetic Raiden aircraft are in.

Operator¹

March 22, 2015, 12:40:18 PM
Bell dumps the task of submitting the mission report on Steele while she flies back to the crash site to scout out an adequate landing zone for a rescue operation.

Gojira

March 22, 2015, 12:48:28 PM
:(
I find a table and I start drafting the mission report.

Qwepir

March 22, 2015, 01:48:50 PM
A plane lands at the airbase you're all temporarily at, carrying some of the survivors of the carrier crash.

Gojira

March 22, 2015, 02:40:30 PM
I look outside and see a NAUC cargo plane land, likely the first of many. Survivors are brought out in a somewhat orderly faction. Lots of them are wounded. The few that aren't are horribly disheveled. After a few moments of this I go outside to see who made it off. I try to ask one of the survivors how many made it off of that thing when it crashed.
« Last Edit: March 22, 2015, 04:32:14 PM by Gojira »

NoZoner

March 22, 2015, 04:53:11 PM
"Over-G! Over-G! Maximum angle of attack! Weapons bay failure!"

Bitchin' Betty screams as I push the Widow to its limits. I nearly black out. Mere feet above the canyon floor, I recover from the dive and ascend out of the canyon, spewing sand and dust into the air as the jet blast hits the ground.

"Fuel 1000. Bingo Fuel."

Even after all that, the cloud remains visibly intact and continues its course unhindered. With just about every last resource spent, I'm forced to turn tail and head back home.


Feels pretty loving stuffty, I thought to myself as I twiddled the menthol cigarette between my index finger and thumb. A large transport touches down on the runway and taxies to the nearest ramp, where it drops off a couple dozen people. Survivors from the crash landing.

I lay down on the bench and stick the cig between my lips. It's pretty hot out on the tarmac today.
« Last Edit: March 22, 2015, 04:56:12 PM by NoZoner »

Qwepir

March 22, 2015, 05:09:41 PM
Quote from: Gojira on March 22, 2015, 02:40:30 PM
I try to ask one of the survivors how many made it off of that thing when it crashed.
"Gods, I don't even know. Nobody on the lower decks made it though. First the explosion, then the crash caved 'em in."

Gojira

March 22, 2015, 05:11:26 PM
"Oh. Oh god."

Operator¹

March 22, 2015, 05:27:10 PM
Bell returns to the base and has her Flanker outfitted with two drop tanks, enough for the trip back to McNamara. With some time to burn while the Flanker is being refueled, Bell got some snacks, a sandwich, and a flask of water that she refilled. She also had the report she typed up earlier printed out.

She approaches Steele with a folder in her left hand, she is holding the snacks with her right arm.

"Here's the report." Bell gives him the report and just walks off towards her aircraft, which is pretty much ready to go.

Gojira

March 22, 2015, 05:29:13 PM
I take the report from Bell's hands and stare at it for a moment, before going to sit back where I was working on my report.

Mr. Hurricane

March 22, 2015, 06:46:00 PM
The flight to the nearest airbase is long and silent. I watch the large AWACS, and its slowly spinning radar dome.

Landing goes without incident. I'm marshaled to an open spot on the tarmac and hassled for letting the engines ingest debris. I blow it off and watch the engines be pulled from the Typhoon.

There is a small cafeteria on base. I snag some snacks, still in my g-suit and rigging. Back on the tarmac, most of our aircraft are being worked on, some are fueled and ready to go. I observe the technicians doing quick field repairs to the engines, as I eat my snacks. Jacov and Bell exchange forms of some type. I continue to think about what had happened only a couple hours earlier.
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