ABS FIESTA REDUX

Poll

period race

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Author Topic: ABS FIESTA REDUX  (Read 1232187 times)

pressing f to pay respects

page 350 is not a bad time to join, no

Name: Gustav Thomsen
Nickname: Tempest
Age: 31
Piloting Preference: A2A
Backstory: Led an uneventful life in the NAUC, applied for the air force after war was declared. Gym addict.
Picture: Image 6'4, very well built. Looks a lot more like a Marine than a fighter pilot.
Personality: Mentally changed after the airbase incident. Previously quite quiet and to the point, he offers advice and kind words as well as his thorough opinion on topics far more regularly. Has a deep personal desire to protect his squad and fellow pilots from harm in the air and on the ground. Introspective when alone.
« Last Edit: April 06, 2016, 10:36:15 PM by CypherX »

« Last Edit: July 19, 2015, 10:57:58 PM by Gojira »




the mission continues (cypher may drop in eventually)
mission theme
Kintharian landing craft come ashore and are immediately beset by smaller defensive emplacements. Some don't even make it to the beach. In response, the marines fire up their laser designators and start pointing out targets to take out. Unfortunately, someone somewhere didn't account for the fact that not every plane in the world supports Kintharian fonts on their computer systems. And the only person with a Kintharian plane can't read the language anyway.

« Last Edit: March 24, 2017, 10:51:21 AM by Qwepir »

the marines are mindless killing machines

Storming the Deltan

"-This is just loving sloppy craftsmanship."

I roll over to the ground support channel, and start negotiating.

"Ground Forward Air Control, Mjolnir flight. Your laser designators aren't interfacing with our aircraft correctly- Could you please list for us the types of targets at each sight? Help us help you,"

I roll back into the Squadron channel.

"Gods' be damned whoever's  fault this glitch is should be loving lynched. This is not the time for this bullstuff!"

Anxiety grips me again, right under the ribcage. Anger manifests itself in my face and head. Every muscle in my body is on edge in anticipation for anything.

"The forget is this stuff. Whoever is on ground level needs to radio the hit points in manually!"

I doubt the Kintharian language is close to ours either right

I doubt the Kintharian language is close to ours either right

its basically japanese



I'm a dishonour to my ancestors