"Sightseeing"

[Bayen]

Code: Select all

OOC:

There really should be OOC tags...

I typically do big posts in a text editor, but if I didn't, Firefox usually saves the day!   :thumbsup 

Were you using firefox?

[Braden Indianensis]

No, I've got internet explorer or something.

Ah well. I'll have to write something else later on. I think it has something to do with the fact that I opened a new window and went to the topic so I could reference something, forgetting that I have myself set to "log me in whenever..."

[Neike Taika-Tessaro]

[OOC]

If you actually hit "submit", you should be able to save things regardless of browser, by keeping the "Error, you're not logged in" page open, logging back in, in another window, and then hitting reload where you got the error and confirming if it asks you if you want to re-submit.

[/OOC]

[Jacobus Loki]

Prodigy, if you follow your Duke, you are for the Kaiser.

[hypatias mom]

Yes, but which side is the Kaiser on now? He has been on both in the past few days.

[Braden Indianensis]

You know, dear Countess, it occurs to me that I have seen very few of Your Grace's soldiers here in Shirekeep...

[Maksym Hadjimehmetov]

Yes. But I'm fighting for the Kaiser whether he likes it or not
I'm hopelessly confused now. After posting a huge mobilisation order in K'Tzuni's boards, I don't even know who to attack now apart from somewhere in the general direction of Kildare.

[hypatias mom]

I appealed directly to His Niftiness quite some time ago. He assured me it was all a mistake, and then decided to go after the Count of Monte Crisco to stop the madness. I sent the men in the white coats, he detonated a "nuclear bomb" that had a sign reading "boom", so we stopped and had a little celbration, and I went back home. All this other military buildup has been a tempest in a teapot. The Kaiser and I are no longer in conflict, so whatever the rest of you choose to do, is no longer my concern (unless, of course, my Duke commands my forces to join, in which case I would have no choice but to comply).

[Maksym Hadjimehmetov]

So essentially, there's no reason for this conflict apart from wanting a good old RecWar?
Suits me fine- just fine

[hypatias mom]

Precisely, sir. You guys seem to be having such a dandy time that it would be a shame to spoil the fun.

[Maksym Hadjimehmetov]

But now it looks as if my Barony is the only one making an attempt to get the perfidious rebels out of Shirekeep!

[Jacobus Loki]

If the Kaiser as fled, then as Steward, I must protect the Nation.

Now, do I protect the Nation best by fighting as his proxy (and maybe going down in flames), making peace, or ? Besides, he's shown little sign of fleeing......

That's it! The cowardly Count of Monte Crisco, traitor to the Kaiser, has fled!

DRIVE THE REST OF THE REBELS OUT OF SHIREKEEP!

In the spirit of the Marne, I order all taxis and buses from Shirekeep and the surrounding area to pick up the rebels, and take them to the restaurant of their choice outside of the city, but within a 150 kM radius. Every rebel is to receive a voucher for a meal at government expense.

Each cab and bus is to be armed with a failsafe device that will destroy the vehicle if it is within 10 kM of Shirekeep within 24 hours. Disarming stations will be set up after the emergency is past.

[Maksym Hadjimehmetov]

You do that. I, however, shall prefer to slaughter them with my cossack regiments.
When they've finished eating, of course. Don't want to waste food, do we?

[Jacobus Loki]

After we drug them! Ssshhhhh!

[Maksym Hadjimehmetov]

or we could just inject arsenic into all Kildare's Mango imports as revenge. What good Shirereithan refuses a mango?

--------Somewhere in Modan-lach------------------

*shines light into suspect's eyes*

What good Shirereithan refuses a mango, rebel scum!

...nnnone, Sir!

Goood. Very good.

---------------------------------------------------

...and that's the way the cookie crumbles.

[Nick Foghorn Leghorn]

I'd like to remind you that the occupying forces are mainly ex-Antican and ex-Babkhan elite soldiers, and only eat Diner Food and falafel respectively.

[Prodigy Almighty]

Well. That settles that. Jacobus, like a good steward, is trying to retake Shirekeep after the Kaiser fled. Prodigy could get behind that. So he decided to do what he does best: blow lots of things up. In a respectful manner. It is Shirekeep, after all.

Prodigy decided he didn't like looting, pillaging, raping, etc.. At least, not when his men weren't doing it. And when would these unfortunate rebels learn the Viking Code?
--Rape
--Pillage
--THEN burn!

The silly people did the burning first, then the raping, then the pillaging. Unacceptable! This would have to end immediately. And with (hopefully) some help from his friends, Prodigy was one of those to stop this mess. It seemed that the rebels were rocking out with their cocks out and no one was stopping them... so, hey, he's giving it a shot.

Prodigy was sitting at the desk in his field base, scratching something into an enormous slug. He had gotten through F-O-G-H- when his second in command, Kale, burst in the door. A huge scratch cut across the surface of the slug, and Prodigy twitched.

"Kale, what the hell! You're not supposed to bust down the door unless I YELL FOR YOU!"

"You were about to, sir," the giant man said, saluting down at Prodigy, who stood two feet shorter than Kale.

"Damn you know me well," Prodigy retorted with a smile, returning the salute.

Korstokk, Prodigy's third-in-line, ducked under the door frame and hefted his enormous rifle into its holster. The weapon looked like it could kill a tank - it could, Prodigy had seen it happen. Of course, Korstokk could kill a tank. He was twelve feet tall for Christ's sake.

"Korstokk, just the man I wanted to see," Prodigy tilted his head slightly to look at the beastly man. "I need you to take - oh, I dunno, 300 Chelkran Battle Suits into Shirekeep."

Korstokk crossed his arms and looked Prodigy in the eye. "300? What the hell is going on in Shirekeep that we need to bring a Ragnarok on it? Where are the Norse Gods?"

Prodigy laughed - very dryly and sarcastically. "How's that workin' out for ya? You know, being clever."

Kale grabbed Korstokk's right hand - made of a blood red metal, fashioned for him by Prodigy - and interjected. "Korstokk, don't you read the papers? The Kaiser's fled Shirekeep and the rebels are having a field day."

"Well, Ragnarok it is," Korstokk rumbled, leaving the office that was much too small for him.

"Kale, get me 150 Chelkran Elite Guardsmen to back him up. I'll be around tomorrow morning with a contingent of Tigermoths and the HVBS as backup. Quickly now, while it's still dark."

Kale saluted and left the office without a word. Prodigy returned to his scratching.

[Maksym Hadjimehmetov]

*starts designing falafel with enough room to hide K'Tzuni's armoured corps inside*

The Trojan Falafel of Brookshire! Buhahahahaa!

[Aurangzeb Khan]

Sixty-fourLeviathan Assault Helicopters would, one hopes, constitute an impressive enough sight on any occassion but sweeping along the southern bank West Elwynn River towards Shirekeep dangerously close to the treeline and at a great rate of knots doubly so. One would hope.

Brigadier Bahram Maliki had practically wet himself when he had received the encrypted radiogram from Islus informing him that he and his men would be catching a ride on the 'big birds' shame how quickly derrogatory nicknames caught on - damn it the Leviathan was supposed to be impressive, and in truth it was, with two forward mounted gatling guns as well as wing mounted rocket pods and the mother of all anti-aircraft missiles, Bahram wasn't familiar with the type but it was the length of one of his armoured cars - it certainly looked like it meant business. The Leviathan was not intended to simply duck out if it met enemy fighter jet, it had teeth of its own. And now all four hundred soldiers his command - the Sevvom Rustayisarbazi Gordân - were hitching a lift into Shirekeep itself. A suitably monumental city, or so the Brigadier thought, the smoke rising from the city - evidence of the orgy of looting and pillaging, amongst other things, being indulged in by General Omar's Kampfgruppe in the Old City. Regretfully, the Brigadier thought, he and his men would not be able to join in that most Babkhan of customs - yet. Orders were orders so certain things had to be taken care of first.

General Headquarters in Islus apparently were of the opinion that the fall of Shirekeep to the forces of Kildare was having an effect in galvanising the baronies of Brookshire into some kind of resistance. That being so it was felt necessary to secure the bridges over the Elwynn which link Shirekeep to the rest of Brookshire.... bloody hell ... the Brigader's train of thought was broken as the helicopter he was flying in veered sharply to the right over into the foreign quarter of Shirekeep, which technically was a part of the County of Woodshire.

"By Ahriman's piss! What are you fools up front playing at?" Roared Bahram into his mike as the helicopter levelled out. The Leviathan had seating capacity for eight men with full battle gear - five of whom were now puking into their steel helmets. Vomit from the guts of an Elw peasant conscript had just splattered over the Brigadier's boots. He was mildly unimpressed.

"My apologies Brigadier Sahib," said a voice over the intercom, terse and indifferent - pissed off at ferrying these 'Rustayisarbazi clods' perhaps, "we were being shot at."

"Shot at?" Replied the Brigadier in wonderment. "I thought that city had been pacified..."

"We believe the shots came from the Yardistani Quarter Sahib."

Of course. Yardistanis... should have known.

"Have two of our escorts peel off and suppress the bastards."

"Already happening Sahib"

And indeed it was for as they spoke a Leviathan belonging to the 4th Aviation Squadron was busy emptying the contents of its rocket pods into an apartment block in the Yardistani Quarter where the suspected discharge of a 'Boomist' rifle had occurred. The Brigadier had had a very lucky escape - in spite of their antiquity those weapons were amongst the most dangerous small arms - if they even warranted that label - on the planet. Another helicopter circled, passenger door, slid back, with a sniper in a safety harness hanging out ready to pick off any persons seen fleeing the building now engulfed in flames.

The sixteen helicopters of the 14th Aviation Regiment now rejoined by the Brigadier, swiftly came to their objective, the Multi-Temple and began to set down. From there it would be a short brisk yomp to the road bridge across the Elwynn. One Platoon would go across and stop the flow of traffic whilst the remainder of Goruhân Elwmarg, under Major Zorban, would establish defensive positions on the north bank.

Fortunately the Multi-Temple had large open spaces, parks and greeneries to aid the contemplation of the devotees of myriad faiths - these were partially obscured by clouds of incense by the beating rotor blades of the Leviathans soon dispelled those. The Rustayisarbazi had not been trained for absailing off helicopters so it was necessary for the helicopters of the 14th Aviation Regiment and the 4th Aviation Regiment of the Elwynnbrigaden to take turns in covering for each other whilst they landed.

Save for an irritated priest of the Church of Christ of All Micronations who received a smart bayonet thrust to his guts for his troubles, there was no resistance encountered. However an ominous note was sounded when a Babkhan resident of the Foreign Quarter (clearly enjoying the new relaxed atmosphere sans certificate of non-evilness) came riding up on his bicycle (a poor substitute for a camel the fellow readily agreed) and warned the Brigadier not to accept any offers of a free taxi ride under any circumstances. That said the Babkhan assured the Brigadier that the entire foreign quarter was ready to rise in support of the rebels if they were to send any troops across. The Brigadier was pleased, though a little sceptical, to hear this. The Babkhan sensing his doubt reassured him - the city was in effect being occupied by Babkhan emigres and former Anticans after all and while the Matbaics were up in arms and preaching holy war, the street battles had not thus far been serious and had resulted in no fatalities, or serious fatalities which ws what the Babkhan actually said.

The Brigadier was gladdened by this news and told the Babkhan that the sympathetic foreign workers would be in luck as a battalion, he of course knew was only sending a platoon but it never did any harm to inflate the numbers for the benefit of civilians, to secure the bridge and that they could take comfort from that. Any more reinforcements would be a matter for higher ups as he was not in a position to act on his initiative in that regard.

An hour later and the men were in position - even better news was that the Goruhân Norwuz had landed at John Metzler III University and under the command of Captain Firzadeh were busy chasing out the students. There were three bridges at this location. General Headquarters ordered that these be taken out to prevent their use. Orders readily complied with by the 6th and 15th Aviation Regiments who, after debusing Captain Firzadeh's men, set about launching their rockets into the bridges with the wild abandon of Babkhans who after many a long quiet year were suddenly granted the opportunity to make things explode with a giddy abandon. Even General Omar did not want to miss out on the fun and, without orders from General Headquarters added to the confusion by having his Farzan SPGs bombard the bridge from long range, and with their usual accuracy.

It was the most wonderful time of the year.

[Jacobus Loki]

So, they won't take the cab rides!

"Marshmont?"

"Sir!"

"Double the explosive loads, and take the cabs to the rebels. Especially the Anticans. Replace the drivers with soldiers with crossbows."

"Yes, Sir!"

"And, Marshmont?"

"Sir!"

"Remember to tell them to jump out BEFORE the explosives go "Yes, Sir!"

"Oh, and go to RadioHut and buy 600 cell phones......"

[Aurangzeb Khan]

South Elwynn Headquarters, Mirewood

General Omar was horrified.

"You blithering idiots! What am I going to do with six hundred and sixty-six mobile phones?"

"Sell them?" Ventured the officer, who had offered this gift to his commander, hopefully. They had been very proud of getting to the electronics stores ahead of the main column. It had been difficult to find anything - the local citizens had raided most of the stores themselves. The idea had originally been to empty out a PC World and pass it on to General Omar for resale - as a thank you for the forty-eight hours they had been given to loot the city. However in the end all they could find was a warehouse full of mobile phones. The last in the city the manager had assured them before they shot him.

"Sell them? Great Zurvan preserve us. They're not exactly contemporary - they don't even have flipscreens... Couldn't you have at least found me an i-phone."

"I-phones aren't available in this country. Sahib."

"Oh?"

"Wrong dimension apparently."

"Fair enough then. So what am I going to do with these then. Nobody is going to want six hundred odd mobile phones looted from Radio Hut are they?"

"Well... we could always use the wiring inside them to make detonators for improvised explosive devices... useful for any stay behind presence we might leave."

"I like your thinking. See that it happens."

A pause.

"Have you managed to execute that Mustafa Ali yet?"

"No Sahib - he seems to have gone to ground in the Old City."

"Damn it. Find him. A live scapecoat is no use to me."

[Jacobus Loki]

"Marshmont?"

"M'Lord?"

"Do we have a cab within blast radius of the Khan's stash of phones?"

(Types query into 315kg "laptop". (Buzzing & whirring.))
"Two, Milord"

"Radio the drivers to detonate!"

"One of them has a fare, M'lord."

(Sigh) "Collateral damage, I'm afraid".

"But she's cute, M'lord."

"Very Well. Detonate the other -- NOW!"

(BOO/\/\ /\/\)

[Aurangzeb Khan]

"General... you won't believe this... a taxi just blew up near where we were stashing those mobile phones."

"Likelihood we can salvage any?"

"Not great Sahib."

"Bugger. Oh well. One flip side to this. Now I get to give the order that I have always wanted to issue."

"What is that Sahib?"

"All taxi drivers are to be shot on sight!"

"Very good Sahib. I shall inform the units in the field."

[Nick Foghorn Leghorn]

[OOC]

Can we get a count of all current troops and where they are before we proceed?

1,000 NI less 75 casualties: The Keep

[/OOC]

[Braden Indianensis]

Raynor's Keep contained two thronerooms: the larger, ancient one used for coronations and the like, which was long and somewhat narrow, like the nave of a romanesque cathedral, with tall columns and a cieling made of ribbed arches, all rendered in shining white marble, with the imposing, gilded Mango Throne raised on a dais at one end; and the smaller, more comfortable one now used for the everyday formal business of the Kaiser, walnut-panelled with paintings of famous Shirithians in gold-leaf frames, and with two comparatively-small, velvet-cushioned thrones (one for the Kaiser(ess) and his spouse, if one existed); it was in this chamber that Braden had set up his office.

He had taken and old desk and chair from the rundown house in Lender's End and set them up in front of the thrones, and had a telephone line installed. The windows were partially obscured with massive filing cabinets, and there were always Naval Infantrymen guarding the entrances. Many of the wall-high mirrors which hung in alternate with the portraits had been shattered in the bombardment of the keep, and it had been almost impossible to find anyone to clean up the broken glass. In such state did Braden Indianensis find himself ruling Shirekeep.

Well, not really ruling as much as running, and even that was almost too much. He exercised the tattered remains of civil power within the city, and Foghorn took care of the military department; General Omar was providing for defense outside the walls. But what good was ruling a city in chaos, even if it was the capital of a great empire? The ruler of that empire was missing, most likely gone to stir up resistance, and his Steward threatened to be troublesome; the city itself was preparing for a siege, as the rulers of nearby territories menaced the bounds; and the city was rife with crime and panic.

Nick and Braden sat on opposite sides of his desk, discussing the issues facing them. "I don't suppose the Kaiser has gone to Kildare of Yardistan," Nick summised. "Even though he is officially at peace with both, I don't think he'd ever abandon the capital; I think he must be hiding out in Brookshire, probably training the militias to try and recapture Shirekeep."

"Yes, I suppose that's where he's gone," said the Speaker, "but why is his Steward piping up all of a sudden? I think he might be the Kaiser's second-in-command here in the city, informing him of our movements and trying to undermine us. He's probably told him about General Omar destorying the minor bridges and fortifying some of the more important ones. This fellow--Jacobus Loki--could possibly give us a great deal of grief."

Fghorn grinned. "We could always just have someone go and kill him." Braden shook his head.

"We don't know where he might be; besides, what if we could turn him? Wouldn't it be much better to place him on the throne, instead of having to search around for some other legitimate heir? I'd have to secure approval from the Assembly before creating a puppet-ruler, but that's much better than combing through all the nobles of Shireroth, looking for someone politically-correct to wear a crown and wave about a sceptre.

"But then again, if he's in the city, he must be in the Yardistani Quarter. It's the only part of the city we haven't thoroughly searched, and it could be he's inciting them to revolt."

"Actually," said Foghorn, "the Yardistani Quarter problem's a fairly minor one. The Elwynnese destroyed the tenament they believed the fire was coming from, and I imagine that'll be enough to make them behave themselves."

Braden nodded. "Probably, but if this continues, I'm giving you authorization to clear out that whole area. The Yardistanis have been nothing but trouble since the occupation began: most of the looters and resistance partisans are Yardistani. I'd like for them to know that we're prepared to do it; have someone start a rumor in the Quarter."

Nick agreed. "Good idea, but how'd we do it? Most of those people would kill an Antican before he'd have time to spread a rumor. We need someone who might--"

Just then, a harassed-looking Vijayanagarian stumbled into the room, hobbled over to the desk with a rug caught around his ankle, and knelt by it.

"O Honorable Sir." he implored, "I hope that you might intervene to save the life of someone as degraded and lowly as myself, the humble Ali Mustafa, whose life has of late been devoted to furthering our glorious cause--"

Nick interrupted. "Ali Mustafa! You're that one guy General Omar has ordered executed!" Ali Mustafa's heart plunkedlike a stone to the pit of his stomach, and he nodded fearfully.

"Well," said Braden, "what the General doesn't know won't hurt him. Ali Mustafa, I will spare your life, if you will go into the Yardistani quarter and spread this about a bit." Braden wrte down the details of the rumor ALi was to spread, and passed it down to him. "Fail to do so, and I will report you immediately to General Omar. Is this clear?"

Ali Mustafa nodded nervously, having little choice in the matter. "As fine crystal, Sahib." He stood and exited the room. A part of a second after he was past the door, a bullet whizzed through, shattering a windowpane and cracking the wood of the doorpost. The lazer sight whirled about eccentrically as whomever owned it panicked, and the calls of the Naval Infantrymen and sounds of running boots drowned out all other noises.

[Prodigy Almighty]

The Naval Infantrymen panicked a bit - they were caught off guard. As they tried their professional best to recover, some of the ones on the outside were caught even further off guard.

One in particular froze where he stood, mid-run, gun half cocked. He stopped, put his foot down, and stared, a weird expression on his face. His compatriots tried to convince him to move, until they looked where he was.

Captain Obvious, who happened by at the time, broke the uncomfortable silence.

"That's... a giant robot. A very giant robot."

The giant death machine - armed to its metal teeth - stopped. It leaned forward, and its hand came and rested on its brow. Was it... was it staring at them?

Then the missile rack reared its ugly head. A quick count read 10x10 capacity.

All of the missiles fired. Right at the unfortunate rebels.

They scrambled. Explosions deafened all too close. One of the Naval Infantrymen in the room with Braden, Foghorn and the Speaker peeked his head over the windowsill, trying to find out what was going on.

"What the f-- SIR!" he shouted, turning toward his superiors. "There's a giant robot and lots of tanks heading right for us!"

"There's WHAT?" Foghorn asked, thinking this worthy of his attention. "What the hell IS going on out there?"

"It looks like lasers and missiles, sir," the frightened Infantryman said, straightening his helmet, an expression of terror on his face.

"Lasers?"

A red flash of light - a large red flash of light - streaked past the window. They heard the agonized scream of its victim.

"Yes sir. Lasers."

[Braden Indianensis]

"Not a huge problem!" declared the Speaker, practically tugging Foghorn down one of the Keep's many corridors. "If the Shirithians want to destroy their own capital, who am I to stop them? Some palace for the Kaiser to return to, blasted apart by some giant robot, but who am I to criticize? Want I want to know is how the damn thing got into the city. It's a giant robot, for God's sake: someone would've seen it crossing one of the bridges, unless it also has the ability to fly, which wouldn't surprise me terribly." Nick was barely listening. The corridors echoed with the sounds of orders being yelled, men running about, terrified screams as explosions shook Raynor's Keep. Nick saw a radio operator--the same one from before--scurrying away down the corridor. Nick caught him by the collar and ordered him to direct a communique to General Omar:

"Sir: The Keep is assaulted, by some sort of mechanized combat-suit. Requesting air support ASAP. Only one sighted so far, could be more in the City, situation highly perilous. Will withdraw to Inner Zone if Keep is untenable."

[hypatias mom]

Braden--

It occurs to me that you don't currently hold citizenship here, and the Kaiser has forbidden any non-citizens to take part in the war. You might want to remedy that situation.

[Aurangzeb Khan]

Captain Jurgurtha steered his Leviathan helicopter low and fast over the burning apartment blocks of the Yardistani Quarter. The fighting from yesterday had died down but with the entire quarter in a state of anarchy no effort had been made to put out the fires of the burning tenament building which had been struck by rockets the previous day. The flames had subsequently spread to neighbouring buildings and was quickly threatening to bloom into a major conflaguration.

The Captain however scarcely gave the unfolding diaster even a second glance. There were reports of a fierce assault on Raynor's Keep. Reports of rocket barrages and laser fire. Lasers! Some infernal Yardistani trick no doubt. Agents of the Steward at large in the city - that would explain why there had been no contact reports from the perimeter defences. Otherwise to suggest that some force had come all the way from Yardistan to Shirekeep in the space of a night was well absurd.

The reports had grown more menacing during the course of the morning. A giant robot! It was unlike Antican Naval Infantry to get hysterical but surely that could be the only explanation for such a bizarre report. The fog of panic must have seized someones brain. Nonetheless someone had thought it prudent to load up with anti-radiation missiles. Good for striking the origin points of enemy communications traffic but also effective for targetting what would be, if it infact existed, a vast tangled knot of circuitry wrapped around a vast power source.

The helicopter now gained altitude climbing to one thousand feet. Behind Jurgurtha formed up the other three assault helicopters of his troop, all similarly armed with two anti-radiation missiles a piece, their gatling guns primed and ready to fire. Below them by this stage was the still smoldering ruins of Raynor Village that had burned fiercely for days after the initial bombardment by General Omar's forces.

The entire helicopter strength of the 15th Aviation Squadron was formed up on the tail of 1 Troop. And the 4th, 6th and 14th squadrons had formed up on them as well. All carried the same weapons read out bar number 4 Troop of the 4th Aviation Squadron which carried air to air missiles and was acting as escort to the vast column of sixty assault helicopters.


"Captain, Sahib!" It was Lt. Dusa, 2IC of the 3rd Troop. "I am picking up a huge electromagnetic signature. One click east of Raynor's Keep."

"Ok. Lieutenant. Prep your missiles. Everyone else, get ready to do the same. All Squadrons this is Troop Leader Troop Two, 15 Squadron. Target identified. He should be on all your Fire Control Radars by now. Keep south of the Cedrist Temple. Follow my lead. Once you have lock on. Salvo fire by troop. Once done break right go as low as you can go and follow the Elwynn back towards Ardashirshahr.

If hits are confirmed we will sweep back into to finish off whatever is left with our gatling guns."

Captain Lector's Troop 3 had the honour of firing the first salvo. This they did promptly. Eight anti-radiation missiles launched with a firery and urgent fury and hurtled off towards the contact. Immediately afterwards they banked right and began their steep and rapid descent towards the Elwynn. Captain Jugurtha and Troop 2 fired off next - eight more. Likewise his prudent command hit the deck.
Soon one hundred and twenty anti-raditation missiles were streaking towards the metal monster.

The sixty helicopters were rapidly retiring back out of the city boundaries along the Elwynn itself, ready to regroup and have another crack at the unexpected menace. Something however was amiss. The four escorting helicopters had not fallen in.

A moment later the radio yielded an answer.

"This is Captain al-Sahel. Troop Four, 4th Squadron. Enemy contact lights up on our systems. Attempting air to air missile launch."

A moment passed.

"Missiles away. Following up with our guns."

"Negative." Came the reply over the intercom from a certain Colonel Arafat, the ground based commander of the 4th Aviation Squadron. "Do not engage further. We do not know what we are dealing with."

"Too late Sahib. We have visual... Great Zurvan! Look at the size of it! The moment of panic passed. It is a robot of some kind. Impact damage in area. Smoke rising from the robot. Can confirm impact damage on the structure. Looks serious. Engaging now. Opening fire with our guns." The OAH Gatling Gun is a hydraulically driven, six-barreled, air-cooled, electrically fired cannon with an extremely high rate of fire, indeed capable of firing 6,600 rounds per minute. Firing 33mm ammunition with depleted Zemlyian uranium tips they packed quite a punch. Remember also that the Leviathan carries two forward mounted gatling guns and you get the picture that even that mighty robot was in a bit of trouble.

A moment later - another communication from one of the pilots on 4 Troop/4th Sqn. "Enemy missile locks confirmed! Smoke trails from target... BREAK BREAK... fire chaff... BREAK"

Static. Then silence. The outlook for the four helicopters that had rashly pressed home the attack did not look promising. The only hope was that fatal damage hand been caused to the steel beast. That would have meant that it would not have all been in vain. If the beast could be slain and the keep saved from falling then the situation could still be rescued.

The remaining sixty helicopters banked inland and formed up over Mirewood. Ready for another crack. It was going to be a long and bloody day.

[Chrimigules]

OOC:

I protest! The Naval Infantry know no fear. Only sardonic humor in the face of extremely painful obliteration.