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The Fall of Hammerfest
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Joined: 10 Sep 2006
Location: SC, USA

PostPosted: Thu Aug 01, 2013 1:50 am    Post subject:  The Fall of Hammerfest
Subject description: Story reboot from tiberiumweb
Reply with quote  Mark this post and the followings unread

Team Black and I have decided to take up the task of rewriting, and animating portions of a formerly popular RP that took place on TiberiumWeb. Most of the PPM populace probably won't recognize it, but anybody that frequently visited TibWeb during it's better days will probably recall it. It will be a work in progress and our methods of handling this project will probably change significantly as we slowly work through this.

There's no real reason for us doing this other than we figure it could be fun, and it will be good practice. In time we may be able to work faster and more intelligently to create something pretty neat. Feedback is appreciated, but keep in mind this is just something I'm cobbling together on the side for fun so don't expect a Disney movie.

From Team Black:
Feel free to read and enjoy. If you feel inclined to comment, please do so in The Hammerfest Conversational Topic so as not to distract from the story.

**The author of each section will be posted before their respective section. On tibweb we used color code for authors, but that just becomes a bit of an eyesore.



Admiral Wolfe stood tall looking out over the vast Gulf of Mexico to the west into the setting sun. He stood on the topmost observation deck of his command ship, the B.F.S (Brotherhood Flagship) Sarajevo. Wolfe glanced down to the main deck, where cranes from the port's docks were loading up the various types of long-range missiles into their respective bays. Wolfe's eyes slid over to the dock, where large crates of ammunition for the Ship's large Anti-Ship cannons and anti-aircraft batteries. One of the forklifts began to slide uncontrollably; apparently the driver tried to take on a load much too large for the tiny vehicle. As the driver of the forklift lifted the crate, it toppled over and fell into the warm ocean.
"Dammit, why are they plagued with incompetence?" The Admiral said to himself. He walked over to a small storage cabinet and unlocked it. He pulled out a bright orange bullhorn and went back to the side and turned it on.
"What the bloody hell are you doing! Don't stand around, get him out of the water and get that forklift out too! It could scratch the ship's hull! Quickly, please.",Wolfe barked, which was actually a downright lie. The forklift couldn't have penetrated the ship's hull, but it still might have left an ugly scratch. The truth was, even a forklift was valuable salvage for the Brotherhood, in these trying times. Supplies were running tight due to increased GDI Air patrol over their supply routes, from South American bases. The men down on the dock threw a rope down and the young driver a rope and he grabbed on, and was pulled to safety. Wolfe saw that the man was safe on dry ground, and let out a sigh of relief. He turned off the bullhorn and placed it back in the cabinet, and closed and locked it.

A door opened behind him and a young woman, a Lieutenant by her ranks, came out. She looked slightly out of breath, her hair was frizzed in places, and her cheeks were flushed as if she had been running. "Admiral Wolfe, we've been looking all over for you! There's an urgent transmission on Secure line 6. It's Kane, sir!" said the woman very quickly.

"Whoah, Piper, slow down. A message on line six?" asked Wolfe politely.

"Yes, sir. From Kane." sighed Lieutenant Helen Fosters, "He said something about a proposition."

"Thank you, Lieutenant. Alert the Captain of the Alexandria to return from her patrol. She needs to take on fuel and prepare for a long journey. We're going to the Port of Cairo in northern Egypt." Said Admiral Wolfe in a polite but firm voice.

"Alexandria to come in for fuel, prep for a long journey. Got it, sir." nodded the young lieutenant, and she turned and went back inside. Admiral Wolfe walked back to the cabinet, but instead of opening it, opened a small box on top that revealed a phone. He pressed the button labeled "Ln 6".

"Admiral Steven Wolfe. Callsign Phoenix. How can I assist, sir? Said the Admiral in a deep, respectful tone.

Kane's voice sounded slightly metallic due to the phone's interference, but his tone was friendly. "Admiral Wolfe, how good it is to speak to you, my friend. I have a proposition. I need someone with such great talent like yours to come here and command my naval forces. Would you like to join me here and command your forces from the safety of the Temple?" Asked Kane in an overly-friendly voice.

"With much respect, sir, I must decline. I love my position as it is. I would not send my men into combat without me here. I want to be here, on the Sarajevo. If my fleet goes down, I go down with it. My deepest apologies, sir, but I would much rather be here with my ships." Said Wolfe. His voice was deep and sincere.

Kane's tone abrubtly switched to a much more cynical tone. "I understand, Admiral. I must warn you, though. It is that love of your position that will get you killed!" snapped Kane, "I do not want to lose my best fleet." Said Kane.

"With all due respect sir, I would rather die on a ship in the ocean than in a temple in the desert. Now if you dont mind, I'm preparing my fleet for departure to Cairo. Project Exige is very underprotected for one of such importance." Said the Admiral in a respectful, yet commanding voice.

"Very well. I will speak with you later about Exige." Said Kane coldly. The line clicked and went silent. Admiral Wolfe again stood to his full hight and looked at the port gates, which were opening for the B.C.S. Alexandria. Wolfe smiled at his own thoughts. This was his fleet. He would lead Nod to victory in the Atlantic, he knew it.

A few days later, GDI made their assault on Kane's Temple. Kane was killed, and his plan of Tiberium divination was thwarted.

While Slavik made plans on unifying the Brotherhood by bringing CABAL back online, Oxanna took Slavik's old forces for a second attempt on GDI's base at Hammerfest, as GDI's sonic crystals were too valuable to simply abandon.

When General Mike McNeil was recovered from the Kodiak crash, and declined the offer to join Project Lazarus. Instead, he took up his brother Jake's command at Hammerfest, as the position was open due to his recent death.

Im Westen Nichts Neues

Last edited by Corsair on Thu Aug 01, 2013 2:58 am; edited 1 time in total

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Joined: 10 Sep 2006
Location: SC, USA

PostPosted: Thu Aug 01, 2013 1:51 am    Post subject: Reply with quote  Mark this post and the followings unread

Chapter 1

Team Black

Ice. snow. That's the only landscape Captain Tom Black could see for miles around, the only other thing besides that was the three other carryalls in his squad, and the 2 Orca fighter escorts on the sides of the formation.
He was happy though for the well heated cockpit, the poor blokes in the titan he was carrying only had minimal heating, probably bundled up in their jackets shivering.
These titans were part of the attack force sent to retrieve the sonic crystals that Nod had almost stolen, but were thwarted by a single broken bridge.
Now that the site was secure, the titans weren't needed there anymore, and were en route to Hammerfest to fulfill their routine patrols.

This may well be one of his last missions. Now that Kane was dead, hopefully the war would be over soon, and separation bonuses will be given out like candy. He could return to flying civilian, either commercial, or maybe as a flight instructor somewhere warm, sunny, and quiet.
That would be nice.

"I'm going to grab a coffee, you want one?" his co pilot said, standing up on his chair.
"That would be EXCELLENT, thanks Bruce - black is okay"
"heh, black coffee for the Blackster. Be right back"
Bruce headed back to go get some coffee.
"heh, heh, funny guy. loser." Blackster sarcastically said, under his breath. He hated that one.

Blackster looked at his watch - ah, ETA in just under an hour



Sergeant Ward walked along the concrete wall, shifting his eyes around the frozen landscape to spot any abnormalities in the distance. His orders were about as simple as they could be: Watch the distance and guard the bunker. He would look back from time to time to check up on his squad. There were only six of them in the snow covered bunker and they were actually comfortable with four mobile heaters radiating their warmth on them like a blanket. He forgave their lax attention on the land. Sure, Hammerfest had been taken by Nod once before, but security had been tightened up greatly by a recently appointed commander of the base and Nod had been defeated; or so he was told. He had always been a bit skeptic of the GDI's ways, ever since he was assigned to this land that was so far away from his home, where he was actually needed.

He glanced up into the sky, and saw several orcas flying toward Hammerfest. This only intensified his attitude that Nod was ultimately defeated - the GDI was sending spare titans to an outpost in the middle of no where for crying out loud! He pondered whether or not the orcas could see his camouflaged bunker when he felt a cigarette butt bounce off his head and fall to the concrete floor.

"Aiye, c'mere, you've been lookin' out tha' hole in the wall for hours now!" Corporal McGaven stated.
"I'm only doin' what I was told to do, what if an officer stopped by" Sergeant Ward said.
"Don' worry 'bout it, they haven't done that in weeks," He solemnly argued, and the others just agreed in silence. "Bright an' early we wake up an' come out here and just watch. Sit an' watch, sit an' watch..." He trailed off with that and just sat there, as he said he always does. Sergeant Ward had to try and refrain from making a smartass remark about how McGaven could simply ask him to go on patrol. Next to Ward, McGaven was the highest ranking soldier in the squad. If he merely asked he could do almost anything he wanted, so long as it pertained to the mission at hand. Yet, he just sits there, as he always does. Complaining.


Team Black

EVA: "We have reached the city of Hammerfest. ETA in five minutes"

"ah, good", Blackster thought, as he sipped his black coffee.

As he glanced out the windows, he now saw buildings and roads. Since tiberium doesn't spread as quickly in the cold zones, GDI has been trying to move most of the world's population closer to earth's poles. Hammerfest was once little thought of, but now it's becoming a major city of Europe. What an interesting impact Tiberium has had on this planet.

*bzzzzzzzzzccccckkkk* the radio cracked.
*Welcome to Hammerfest, Raven Squadron* Came the voice of Mike McNeil, the commander of Hammerfest,
*Nice day for flying, and thanks for returning those Titans that you borrowed from us*
"No problem", said Black, "couldn't keep em to myself, now, could I?" Blackster rolled his eyes. Dumb radio-humor
*Well firestorm is off, you're all clear to land when you get here. The Radio tower will tell you the rest*
"Roger that, sir" Blackster said.
A greeting from the commander himself - must not be a lot of air traffic today.

They passed the city, and began on another frozen plain of nothingness. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted a GDI bunker, on the outer perimeter of the base. Poor blokes, must be freezing standing out there all day. I wonder if they even-
Just then, the Firestorm roared into life, right in front of where the squadron was flying. The Orca fighter escorts in front had no time to evade it, even with all the maneuverability that the fighters possessed. They hit the firewall and vanished into a brilliant light show of disintegrating atomic particles.
"What the hell!- break off! break!" Blackster shouted. He didn't even need to give the order - his wing was quick to react, and with all the force available in the engines, each of them strained to evade hitting the wall. One of them dropped its titan, which then crashed to the ground in a contorted heap.
In split-second thinking Blackster knew the entire force of the carryall's engines wouldn't be able to save it from crashing into the firewall, not at their current momentum. He glanced at his co pilot, who gave him the same glance back, that glance that represented a final act of friendship before the end came, when there wasn't even enough time to say it's been a pleasure working with you.

Seconds became hours. Their carryall had only completed about 45 degrees of its turn, and Black watched in slow motion as their front left engine was consumed into the great appetite of the firestorm wall. But nothing more had been done. Somehow, they were alive, as they passed over the firestorm wall. It was off.

Black and his copilot both let out a gigantic sigh of relief, but it wasn't over yet. They were now running on three engines, which was not enough to maintain sufficient control of the plane. They had successfully turned the plane around, but that didn't matter now that the wall wasn't in front of them.

Not only were they out of control, but were flying away from the Hammerfest base. There was now no chance to reach Hammerfest, it was now a matter of where to crash the ship. Where was that bunker he had seen? If he could land somewhere close to it, there'd be able to provide him with some help.

The Caryall was now tilted at an angle, streaming through the air spinning like a top. He gave a desperate glance around the landscape, but to no success, but in the blur of motion everything looked the same. It would be only natural to make a bunker that camouflaged with the landscape. The ground was getting closer. If he could somehow land the carryall just right, then most of the shock will be absorbed by the titan's legs. If not, well, they should've already been dead anyways, so it wouldn't matter.

EVA: Critical impact with the ground in three....
shut up, EVA
Shut up, I know

The plane crashed, and came the deafening sound of twisting metal and combusting fuel. Shattered glass, fire, smoke, he was still strapped to his seat, in half a cockpit, which was facing downward toward the ground. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the most comforting sight he ever thought he'd see: the bunker.
And with that, he lost consciousness.



Sergeant Ward sat in the back of the bunker, leaning against the door, admiring the abilities of his squadmates to throw cards out the bunker's ice encrusted window. He was considering what jobs he could give his squadmates to do until their shift was up. He couldn't think of anything. There really wasn't anything to do out in the cold land. Maybe perform some checkups on the integrity of the bunker? They had already done that five times in the past four hours. They couldn't leave their post and go to Hammerfest, who knows what sort of punishment they would get. He groaned because he knew he thought too much of the what-if when it came to actions, he needed to be more decisive to be a leader.

He didn't notice the shaking until their weapons and ammo began to clatter to the ground. He jumped off the door and everyone leaped instinctively to their feet to the sound, and magnitude, of whatever object was passing by overhead. Corporal McGaven and the rest of the squad seemed to be yelling at Sergeant Ward for orders, but all he could make out was some incoherant words and noises from them. He quickly picked up his rifle and crawled out the window, through the snow, and outside the bunker hoping that his squad would get the idea. He refused to take his eyes off the sky to take notice whether they did or not, and he saw an orca carryall careening out of control, with a contrasting trail of black smoke following behind them in the pure sky. It was surprisingly close, and for a long minute he considered ordering his squad back into the bunker incase there were peices of its hull falling to the ground. When he looked back he saw his squad was already out of the bunker and looking at the same thing he was, though. A sudden burst of sound broke the uncertainty, and it could only mean that the orca and its cargo had landed in the oh-so-soft ice.

He had already begun running to the crash site while asking Hammerfest for permission to assist the crew. All he got was static. There must have been some sort of power surge, there is no possible way for Hammerfest's lack of power due to the amount of generators and backup generators they have in and around the sector.

"Is there anyone on this channel!" Sergeant Ward roared into the radio. "My squad and I are assisting a wreckage and need comfirmation!"
"See! I told you they forgot us!" Corporal McGaven joked, which was entirely the wrong time for such an attitude.
"Shut up! I can't hear if there's anyone responding," Sergeant Ward handed the radio to one of the lower ranked squadmates, he didn't take heed to notice, just as long as it was anyone other than McGaven. They ran towards the smoke for what seemed like forever. The snow was making it fiercely taxing on their bodies, and some of his squadmates seemed to just fall from fatique just a hundred meters from the site. McGaven appeared to be overcome with curiosity and didn't look tired at all, in fact he seemed almost fixated on the smoke as if it was his only goal in life to see what was the source. Sergeant Ward was a bit caught between scenarios; he couldn't leave his squadmates in the cold, and he couldn't let the ship keep burning while there could be survivors inside.

"Squad! We'll rest here," Sergeant Ward pulled McGaven aside, "you seem the least tired out of all of them, you check the wreckage and look for survivors and we'll join you in a moment." McGaven acknowledged the command by pulling his gaze from the smoke for a split second and nodding before turning back. Ward took the radio back from him and shoved McGaven away. He watched McGaven tear through the snow towards the wreckage before he turned back to his squad.
"Take the initiative you sorry pack of rats, your like lice to this army, you take and take and you just don't serve any good other than to annoy the hell out of me! Those men in that wreckage need you, and you get tired?" Sergeant Ward screamed in frustration at his squad. This is what the GDI has to offer?


Team Black

Brigadier General Michael McNeil sat back in his office, looked at his monitor. Which once was used as a battlefield interface, now used to combat the growth of inbound e-mails. Ah, the life of a postwar base commander. Once flew a multimillion dollar Kodiak, now flying a desk in a bleak, cold, dreary office.

He sighed. He served hard, commanded the spearhead campaign against Nod, won the war, killed Kane himself-
But what was it worth? none of it would bring Jake back.
"I'm sorry about your brother, McNeil, I hear he died a very slow, and painful death"
Kane's words resonated in his head. It's true that vengeance had been served, but it was still so empty.
Winning the war was all well and good, but it didn't really solve much.
It couldn't undo Umagon's mutation, which had now turned her into a hideous and mindless tiberian monster. Yeah he loved Umagon, she'd given him a new view on the world. War wasn't just about war, it's about the rest of the world. What difference does it really make who wins or loses, if half the world is devastated in the process?
GDI and Nod have had a hayday blowing each other up, and totally ignoring the seriousness of Tiberian poisoning. There won't be much purpose in fighting for a world, when its inhabitants have all turned into viceroids.

"Commander" a GDI technition said, breaking McNeil from his thoughts. "We've had a malfunction in our Firestorm defense"
"huh?" Mike snapped out of his daydream. "what's up with it?"
"For about thirty seconds, it started up and shut off, all on its own"
"And you're sure no one was on the controls?"
"Yes, in fact, when we tried to override it, we couldn't. For that thirty seconds, it was operating completely independent"
"Well that's irregular".
McNeil sat up in his chair, shocked. The firestorm doesn't malfunction. Only he had authority to operate Hammerfest's FSD.
"EVA, what can you tell us?", McNeil said to the air.
"The system's information implys that it was activated with all necessary authorization"
"could it have been some kind of malfunction?"
"Negative, All systems are working at optimal levels. The system's information implys that it was activated with all necessary authorization"

"Well, I sure as hell didn't authorize it!", McNeil hit his fist on the arm of the chair, "Well, looks like you guys have some work to do", he said to the technician
"Yeah", said the technician
"And keep me updated. If you find out anything, you report it to me ASAP"
"Okay", said the technician, and with that he left.

Alone again, McNeil sat back in his chair, letting his mind wander some more about Jake, Tiberium, and Umagon


Tom Black slowly came to. every bone and muscle in his body ached. Still strapped into his chair, in a half-cockpit that was standing upright. His chair was facing downward, and he was suspended a couple of feet off the ground, held there by the seat's straps. Beneath him he saw spots of red from the dripping of several gashes on different parts of his body.
His head was spinning. He tried to get an idea of where he was, how he had gotten there, anything. No luck. He felt cold. Freezing. Numbness.
He felt a drip of drool dripping from his mouth, and inadvertently spit it out, and he watched as a gooey red blob of saliva fell to the ground to join the rest of the gathering collection of his blood.

He reached a feeble, shaking hand to undo his strap. He couldn't find the energy, and the arm gave up and dropped back down again. He let out a quivering sigh.
He tried again, this time with his other hand. Strained with all of his effort - and reached the strap. He clung to it as he struggled to release the button, hoping that he wouldn't lose his grip.
*click* his strap was undone, and with that he fell to the ground from his chair, into something soft. Snow, thank God. He tried to see if he could get to his feet...strained...got into an upright crawling position...held it...then slumped back down. Was this it? He was going to die here in the snow, in the middle of nowhere, among a scattered heap of metal and snow?
He pictured Archaeologists a hundred years from now, digging him up preserved in the ice, and putting him on display as the nameless pilot who crashed his ship in the Second Tiberium War. They might give him a name, or make up general ideas on what kind of life he might have led during that time period. It was a half-satisying thought, well, at least I'll be remembered he told himself, as a tiny means of self-entertainment in the final moments of his life.

What was that? Voices? footprints? Blackster couldn't even lift his head to see - it was hard enough just to open his eyes.
Yes, they were footprints. Or he was hallucinating. the sound became louder, closer. Blackster struggled to make a noise, to attract attention.
"Over here", he meant to say, but it just came out raspy and muffled, and easily drowned out by the sound of the wind. He tried to move, but the best he could do was to get his finger to twitch a little.
The footprints walked past him, and were going away. Dang hallucinations. he traced the footprints with his mind. Closer, further, closer, further. This was torture.
Waiting to die while his mind taunted him with ridiculous fantasies of rescue.
"Ah, here's one", a voice said. "sh** what a mess. This guy is toast"
Was Black mad, or did he feel something poking him in the back?
"Sir, can you hear me? talk to me"
shut up.
Something rolled Blackster over onto his back. His eyes were half open, only squinting. He could only make out a giant blur in front of him. He looked up at it.
"Holy crap he's alive!" the figure exclaimed as it jumped backwards.
damn right I'm alive
"Smells like coffee over here"
Is this real? how could my mind invent such a nutcase?
"Well um. Stay right there, I'll have a look around for your buddies, okay"
no I think I'll stroll around for a while, geez
"The rest of the squad will be here shortly, we'll bring you back"
"SHUT UP EVA!" Blackster finally said out loud. This guy, plus the cold had taken a large toll on his sanity
"No sir, I'm not EVA", the man said, and then left.
Blackster closed his eyes again, hearing more footprints, and voices in the distance.

Couldn't move, completely numb, probably also bleeding to death in the snow. He faded out of consciousness again


Nod Strike

A bright light shined in Blackster's eyes. He had only just woken up. Oxanna and Blackster were alone in a windowless prison cell. Blackster knew straight away what was happening. He had been tought never to say anything. A naked dim light bulb swinged loosly from the celing.
"Blackster. We finally meet." Said Oxanna coldly.
"You're not getting me to talk. I am loyal to GDI. You are being puppeted by your dead leader, Kane."
"Dead?! Ha! You think he's dead? Think again, Blackster, awesome pilot of the corrupted GDI."
A T.V screen seemed to appear out of nowhere. On it was just black and white dots. He hoped this wasn't true.
"Blackster. I knew you were a formiddable opponent. You survived a Carryall crash. After 30 years of flying aircraft, you have been voted best pilot of the year, 6 times. You also flew a B-S95-0, with only one engine back to the airfield 71 miles away. I am indeed impressed."
Blackster stayed silent and watched Kane on the T.V screen.
"GDI is tricking you, Blackster. Think about it. GDI's fuel is burned Tiberium. Also, the Nod army's have almost perfected a Tiberim Laser."
"Tiberium will kill us all, and you are foolish if you think it can help mankind. For the sake of Earth, we must destroy it."
"We have been through this conversation with the world leaders."
"Blackster, Nod needs your help. GDI are nothing. They can't help you now. We can give you what you want. Power, money, guns. All the worlds underground, under your control.
He looked blankly around the room. What could he say?


Team Black

"SHUT UP, you Nod killers!" Blackster yelled, awaking with a start. He opened his eyes, but he couldn't move otherwise.
He noticed several figures standing around him. He was in a building. Florescent lights on the ceiling, which was concrete.
Where. . . was. . .he . ?
Laying on a military cot, under some blankets. He was next to four other cots, but couldn't yet turn hi head to identify who they were.
"Hey, this one's awake", a voice said. a figure stooped over him, looking him in the eyes

"I'll never join you, you nod scum! you'll have to kill me!" Blackster blurted out. "I serve GDI!"
"Me too, man. Chill." The voice said. "Can you tell me your name?"
"No! shut up, nod scum!"
"Ah crap, he's delusional. Give him some sedative, he's not ready to wake up just yet"
"Leave me alone! Where am I? Get away from me!" Blackster tried to move, but he couldn't. he felt a needle being injected into his arm, and faded back out of consciousness.



Corporal McGaven was still at the wreckage sifting through the mess and attempting to find any survivors. His fascination with the destroyed orca and its cargo was beyond Sergeant Ward. He had given McGaven a radio and let him stay at the site while they hauled the pilot to the bunker. They had attempted to interrogate the pilot several times, he would mumble a few words and that would be the end of it. Once he awoke and startled the entire squad with his ramblings of Nod, for a moment Sergeant Ward believed that Nod was the cause of the downed orca, but then quickly dismissed the pilot as being delusional. There was no reason to cause panic within his bunker, whether Nod was the cause of the pilots unfortunate fate or not.

"Hammerfest, this is Bunker Foxtrot, we are still awaiting any confirmation concerning the wreckage," Sergeant Ward said. He had been trying to hail the base for quite a while now and no one was responding. He dared not to think that McGaven was right, and that everyone at Hammerfest had simply forgotten them. He left the radio at the table and briefly glanced into the room the tattered pilot was in. The squads' medic was tending to the wounds and closing off any potentially dangerous gashes, but he may not survive the night if he didn't get proper attention. However, Ward was no medic, and he hoped for the best. His curiosity was growing and he desperately wanted to know what caused the pilot to just drop from the sky the way he did. It could have simply been pilot error; a midair collision of some kind. He hadn't seen any enemy airships, he knew there were no enemy turrets, but Nod could be in the surrounding area. This left Sergeant Ward deeply worried. The pilot was the only way to know what was going on, and the squad had no real way of transporting him to the relative safety of Hammerfest. They lacked any medical supplies, spare the medic.

"McGaven, return to the bunker immediately," Sergeant Ward ordered, "we may have a problem."
"I think I'll be safe here," McGaven stubbornly avermented.
"I think we're having static, I said get your ass back here. Now!" McGaven did not respond. Ward called over two Private ranked squadmates and ordered them to bring back McGaven, and if he still refused to return they could use force. Sergeant Ward was feeling the pressure. As of the moment he only had one free soldier to man the bunker. One was a stubborn ass, two were out searching for him, and the medic was preoccupied to tending the bloody pilot. The bunker was intended to fend off enemy forces, yet one injured pilot completely undermines the entire procedure. Sergeant Ward thought of new plans regarding what he would do with the given scenario while watching his soldiers run into the distance toward McGaven. If his bunker was truly surrounded, he wouldn't stand a chance. Not like he could have stood a chance even if his squad was rallied together anyway.

"Sir! The pilot's awake, and he seems to have his wits about him!" The medic hollered from the room.


Team Black

Captain Tom Black was sitting up on his military cot, a GDI Sergeant sitting across from him, holding some coffee. He was in a small concrete room, likely some sort of medical center, in part of a bunker or something. Black was still very dizzy, and his head was throbbing, but the cuts on his body were mostly healed.
He held GDI medics in high regard - they could pretty much fix up any wound, provided that the patient was still alive.

"Sir. Captain. Sir, can you tell me your name?", the Sergeant asked, calmly.
"Black. Tom Black", he responded, still trying to focus his eyes on the figure in front of him.
"I need you to think for a minute. I need you to tell me what happened."
Tom searched. Racked his memory. "Nothing", he replied, "I have no clue"
"what is the last thing you remember?", said the officer, taking a sip of his coffee.
"Coffee", Black said, "Black. Black coffee for the Blackster", said, repeating a memory, not exactly sure where it came from. This only puzzled the Sergeant.
"Yeah, I happen to like black coffee too. Did you want some?"
And with that, the NCO signaled to the medic, who was the only other person nearby. "Could you get some coffee for...Black, here?"
"Stat!" the medic replied, enthusiastically. In less than a minute he returned with a steaming cup of coffee. Black thankfully took the coffee, and sipped some of it. This seemed to open up his memory a little.
"I was flying a plane. A carryall. I asked my co pilot to get me some coffee." Black said, glad to finally remember something.
"Yeah that would explain the coffee all over your flight jacket," The officer noted.
"...We were delivering some Titans..." Blackster continued. "...to a base, somewhere."
"Yeah, Hammerfest." Blackster began to play back the memory in his mind, "We got to the base perimeter, where the Firestorm Defense was. It was off. But then..."
"Then what?"
"It..turned on!" Blackster recalled with a shock. "My wingmates drove right into it! They couldn't stop..." Blackster paused, fighting tears, "We would've hit it too, but it turned off just in time", He paused, becoming more distressed as the memory unfolded, "And then, somehow I ended up on the ground. My plane is in pieces, and I'm stuck bleeding to death in the snow"
Black stared blankly, repeating the scene over and over in his head. He took another sip of coffee. "Then came the Noddies", Black continued, "Oxanna, and all her fanatical grunts, Told me Kane was alive."
"You saw Nod troops?", the Sergeant asked, "And are you sure it was Oxanna? She's one of Nod's top-dogs now, you know."
"I...don't know. She said something about serving Nod, I told her to @#$% herself."
They both let out a small laugh, before getting serious again. "I don't remember how I could've gotten away. Did you guys rescue me?"
"Not from Nod, no" The NCO said, clearly puzzled, "My squadmate, McGaven found you in your plane wreckage, and we brought you here. There weren't any signs of Nod anywhere."
"Where am I, by the way?"
"Hammerfest base. The outermost perimeter. We're the guys that get run over first when Nod does their blitzkreigs." said the Sergeant, half humerously, "Sergeant Ward, GDI Marine Corps, 109th Security Forces. Sorry to not introduce myself sooner"
"Don't worry about it", Blackster said, "So, what can the main base tell us? Was the firestorm a malfunction, or something?"
"No contact from them yet, on any frequency. No idea why - we've got no technicians out here, only a bunch of dumb grunts with half a brain, and a medic."
"Do you have any other way of contacting them?"
"Unless we want to walk through the snow about twenty miles, no way. They'll just have to figure out that there's a problem, and send us an airship or something"
"So we're stuck out here, then."
"Pretty much. Don't worry though, we've got enough rations and power to last us half a year"
A short silence. They both took another drink of their coffee. Black struggled to ask his next question.
"Did you find any other...survivors...in the crash?"
Ward gave him a very serious look. "Well, you left a streak of burning metal and debris about half a football field long. My crew went up and down it, turning everything over, digging everything up. We found Three guys - You, a guy in, what was left in the Titan cockpit, who's in really bad shape, still unconscious. The third guy..."
Ward took another sip of his coffee, to stall him from having to tell Black what he didn't want to know.
"...the third guy, another pilot...didn't make it. I'm sorry."
silence. Black let out a drawn-out sigh, "There were four guys in total, one more Titan pilot. If you haven't found him by now, he's got to be-"
"I understand", Ward interrupted, "And I think you need to spend a little time alone to collect your thoughts, and to come to terms with everything that's happened"
Black nodded, forcing his tears back. Ward stood up and left, as he reached the doorway he felt compelled to say something encouraging, to end on a positive note,
"Hey Black..." Black looked up. "Enjoy your coffee, sir"
and with that Ward left the room, and when he was full out of Black's sight, he winced to himself for his incredibly stupid choice of words.

Alone, Black leaned back against the wall, closed his eyes, and let out a deep sigh
damn war. Damn nod. Damn Tiberium. Damn decaf coffee

Im Westen Nichts Neues

Last edited by Corsair on Wed Aug 14, 2013 5:54 am; edited 2 times in total

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Team Black
Defense Minister

Joined: 25 Sep 2006
Location: Teamblackistan Posts: Over 9000

PostPosted: Mon Apr 13, 2015 2:36 am    Post subject: Reply with quote  Mark this post and the followings unread

Chapter 2


Tyrados Naval Supremacy Station
Caribbean Islands
02:46am Local Time

The TV screen was playing quietly. It showed a map of the gulf of mexico, and a massive storm system was over the Caribbeans. The wind outside was pounding rain against the small windows of the Admiral's Quarters on the base. The ships were not the most desirable places to sleep in a storm. A tree branch snapped and hit the window with a smack. Admiral Steven "Phoenix" Wolfe woke up in a cold sweat and bolted upright... He looked around, breathing heavily, analyzing where he was... Phoenix sighed, realizing it was only a memory, that of long ago... he leaned back on his pillow and listen to the wind outside. He didn't understand why he kept having this particular dream. It did not, as far as he could tell, have any significant psychological value, nor any real importance to his life. Kane had forgiven Phoenix for snapping back at him after he sent a personal apology note, hand written, in calligraphy addressed to Kane himself..

Phoenix racked his brain trying to figure out why this dream kept reoccurring. His personal phone rang; a secure transmission. "Admiral Wolfe here."
"Hello, Admiral. I have an assignment for you." Said the smooth flowing female voice of Oxanna
"Oh, well hello, Oxanna. It's good to hear from you again." Asked Phoenix, in an unusually flirtatious voice.
"You as well, Admiral. How would you like to take that ship of yours to a real battle?" Asked Oxanna in a very sensuous voice.
"You'd love to see my vessel in action again, wouldn't you" smiled Phoenix, an obvious innuendo.
"Now is not the time.. we can discuss those matters when I see you in liverpool." said Oxanna again in her sensuous voice.
"So be it. Data burst me your battle plans. I will review them. Should i feel like it's worth my time, I'll call." said Phoenix in a much sharper tone.
"Alright. Goodbye, Admiral." The phone clicked off as Oxanna hung up.

Phoenix slid his phone into his back pocket and got up. He pulled down a holoscreen port near his bed, and accessed the communications lines. He had a databurst transmission waiting to be opened. He pulled it out and opened it. It was a detailed layout of the GDI Hammerfest base, overlayed with battle data, invasion routes, and topographical data. In an additional folder, there were maps of sea routes in and out of the base, location of sonar sensors and up to date fleet movements. Oxanna truly was a tactical genius. She was also a great partner on more... personal matters. This battle would surely prove to be one of great magnitude, and the thought of it made Phoenix smile in excitement.


Team Black

*...Should i feel like it's worth my time, I'll call*
"Alright. Goodbye, Admiral", Oxanna said into her headset, and then hung up.
"I'll count on your support", she said to the air, half mockingly at Wolfe.
There was no way he could resist fighting by her side, and the complex battle plans she just sent him would further strengthen his desire to take part.
Wolfe wasn't one to be ordered around. He would even resist orders from Kane himself, if they didn't quite suit his fancy.
Wolfe had to be lured. If he thought somehow he could bring back the old relationship they once had, he would drop all his priorities and come running.
How childish. Every man, no matter how respectable and intelligent, will lose their minds if a woman is involved.

Oxanna sat in the bridge of the Montauk, where Slavik had sat during his campaign against GDI. Slavik was now busy with different matters; unifying the Inner Circle, and trying to get CABAL back online. She was now in charge of all the forces that had been entrusted to him during his campaign.
Without CABAL, it would be very difficult to run this mission. The best that she could get her hands on was the over-outdated EVA AI left over from the first Tiberian war - it was not good for much at all, besides the flat basics. Oxanna herself would have to act to some extent as the AI, as well as the commander.
But even so, it will be more than easy. They had all the plans necessary, probably even knew more about Hammerfest than GDI did. Admiral Wolfe would give support with his navy.
And the firestorm defense? Nod had complete control over it, as seen when they tested it against a fleet of GDI's own squadron of orcas.
(Blackster's squadron). Nod recon found no indication of alert from the GDI base, as expected from their usual disorganized rabble.
The fool Jake McNeil gave Nod all of the codes they needed, before he was tortured to death. With them, she could override GDI's control of it at any time.
All of GDI's communications for the outer perimeter were jammed, and they were free to take the base's outer bunkers without the main base even knowing.
They would use GDI's own bunkers to surround the base. She only had a handful of tanks, some buggys, and a great deal of nod troops, but with the appropriate application of strategy, it would prove to be more than enough. As long as GDI was left unaware, she could easily take & secure each bunker one by one and Hammerfest will be clueless, until it's too late.

Team Black

McGaven was still at the crash site looking through the debris.
At this point he realized that it had been so long, if any survivors were left, they'd be frozen to death, and there was nothing more he could do for the situation. He was about to pack it up and return, when something caused him to look off into the distance. Was that the sound of gunfire?
He took out his binoculars and looked toward the sound. In the distance there was another one of Hammerfest's bunkers; its solid concrete structure sitting peacefully in the drifted snow. Nothing irregular there.
He put his binoculars away.

Then he heard a buzzing sound, and someone talking. A survivor?
He followed the sound, and came to the other half of the orca's cockpit. There was no person around that he could see, but on what was left of the dashboard was the orca's radio transmitter. He tried to talk into it, but couldn't get it to work. A few good tugs pulled it off; he put it into his backpack to look at later. Then as he began to leave, he paused. Took out his binoculars for one last look at the other bunker, and..

..did a double-take! Four tick-tanks surrounded the bunker on each side and deployed, effectively drawing fire. A nod APC then approached the bunker, and five cyborgs burst out of it, into the bunker opening fire.
"Holy $#!t!", McGaven said to himself.
He put his binoculars away, and bolted away towards his own bunker. He blew past the two soldiers that Ward had sent to retrieve him, telling them "run, $#!%-heads! to the bunker! run!"
They both turned in confusion, and ran after McGaven.



Sergeant Ward stepped outside of the bunker, to collect his thoughts, and maybe see if his other two troops had any luck getting McGaven back to the bunker.
He squinted at three dots in the distance running towards the bunker, one well in front of the other two. That had better be McGaven.



BFS Sarajevo
740km Southwest of Bermuda
12:42 Local Time

Admiral Steven "Phoenix" Wolfe did not anticipate what he saw on the horizon. He had hoped that the dark storm clouds behind them was enough to camouflage his fleet, but specks on the horizon meant that enemy ships were on their way to engage. Intel insisted that the GDI fleet wasn't set to deploy for another 72 hours, though that clearly isn't the case. Phoenix was still fortunate, however, as the weather conditions were in his favor. As soon as the long-range sensors picked them up, Pheonix would set Condition One, upon which The Sarajevo and her fleet cloaked themselves and shut down all non-essential systems; both the active and passive sonar jammers were online.
The Sarajevo had opened her SSM (Ship to Ship Missile) pods and had live missiles in it. The BMBS Zeus had her rocket pods active as well. The B.C.S. Alexandria had her cannons targeted on the larger ships. As soon as the GDI Fleet was in range, Wolfe would give instructions to launch a Lighting Drone high into the air to jam all communications on all frequencies. There were only a few of these available, and they were each very expensive. The drones could give them coverage for about 20 minutes; but well enough time to cripple the enemy.

"Admiral, They're all within firing range!" Said Piper, the communications operator.
"Good. Launch the first drone. Then instruct the Alexandria to fire on the rear ships so they cant retreat out of range. The Zeus should target sensor ships, and I will take care of the carriers and battleships myself." Said Phoenix. Outside, a squeal was heard as a small red and grey drone spun off at high speed into the skies.

"We no longer have long or mid range communications, sir. We only have short-band channels and direct ship to ship communications." Said Piper.
"Very well. Uncloak and open fire." Smiled Phoenix. Piper told the other ships their tasks and outside, the concussion from the Alexandria's cannons could be felt, even at combat distance. The Zeus began to fire its volley of rockets on the support ships of the fleet. The drone itself was about the size of a small fighter, and for the time being, held its own against the enemy's AA fire.
An explosion rocked the Sarajevo as a direct shot from a GDI ship struck just below the bridge. Everyone was knocked to the floor. Alarms sounded and the power flickered out on the bridge. Sparks lit up everywhere as the backup systems came online. Many of the screens were damaged and only showed distorted images, occasionally fading in and out of view.

"Damage report!" yelled Phoenix. "Hull damage, One generator inop, everything else green, sir!" came from the bridge, "one injury, minor concussion in the engine room". The alarms on the bridge cut off as the main systems came back online. The bridge lit up once again, the the viewscreens became clearer. Out the starboard side windows billowing smoke could be seen rising up from below the bridge. It would be hours before the crew of the Sarajevo would properly see out again. The veiwscreens were showing flashing red parts on three different parts of the ship, indicating hull breaches or fires, and only smoke could be seen out of the windows. The battle went on, and though both sides took hits, the GDI fleet had been caught by surprise, and had no hope of defeating their strategically-superior opponents.

"Reports coming in from other ships," Said Piper, who had miraculously got the communications back online. Phoenix wondered how he would live without her. "The Zeus said she scored direct hits on most of her targets, and the Alexandria has successfully taken out the rear ships. She also took out two carriers and a battleship. Most of the GDI fleet is crippled. Our casualties, we lost two support ships, and the Alexandria doesn't have use of her stern cannons. The Zeus has limited navigation and is taking on water. We have some system damage, and we're listing to the starbord." Piper finished off. Phoenix realized they really were leaning slightly to the left.

"Let's finish off the GDI fleet.. Launch the SSM Missiles. We may be injured, but-"
The Emergency comm opened up, interrupting him.
"Sir! This is Radar, We've got a problem. We just lost the last of our jamming drones, and we can no longer guarantee-"

In a matter of seconds, the sound of the radio was lost to a roaring sound like rolling thunder, and a bright blue glow shown through all the windows, brighter than bright. The Admiral's face turned to realization, and let out a single laugh, before his flagship was torn asunder with a Godly burst of ion energy from the heavens.
It didn't explode; rather, melted from the gaping center hole where the ion cannon had struck. The reactor, melting down, turned the hull into glowing red jello, billowing a pillar of steam as it sank beneath the waves. If there were any survivors from the ion strike, they would have died instantly from the subsequent heat and radiation.

The rest of the Nod fleet, at the loss of their beloved flagship opened hell fire in retribution, at the crippled remains of the GDI fleet.
Sure enough, even a dying snake could land a poisonous bite.



Sergeant Ward watched as his squadmates rushed towards his position through his binoculars, he was getting really irritated at how the day was going. He noticed that Corporal McGaven was the one leading the pack by quite a distance, which was a bit peculiar given the fact that McGaven had been highly stubborn in following his orders lately, yet here he seems to be running as if it would make up for all the disobedience. As he waited for his squad to regroup he heard a noise in the distance that completely awoke him out of his thoughts. He put down his binoculars and turned to see an APC heading towards his bunker. He stood there for a minute, relieved that the GDI was sending aid to his position. He hoped they had a new radio.

He picked his binoculars back up and looked at the APC, noticing that it looked a bit odd. It was nothing that he had ever seen before. He had reviewed all the current vehicles that the GDI had in circulation dozens of times, and this one didn't match anything. Thats when he saw the red insignia; the logo was discreet, but its meaning was obvious. It was Nod, barreling to his bunker. Sergeant Ward quickly glanced back towards McGaven and saw that McGaven was looking through his own binoculars at the Nod APC, as well.
"Look over here, damnit!" Sergeant Ward muttered his breath as he stared at McGaven through his binoculars, while giving them the order to stand down and take cover in the thick snow. McGaven glanced over, acknowledged the order, and repeated it to his squadmates.
"Private! Get the anti-tank rockets, now!" He roared into the window of the bunker as he hopped in, and he quickly received a rocket launcher.
"What's  going on, Sergeant!?" Black yelled from the back of the bunker.
"We're getting attacked! We'll handle this, Sir, just get down and stay back there!" Black hunkered down and pulled out his pistol. Sergeant Ward admired his courage, wishing "Blackster" could join them, but with his injuries, it might do more harm than good for the situation. He and his squadmate took aim at the Nod APC, but noticed that the ground was suddenly getting far shakier than a vehicle of that size could emit. No time to see why, they quickly made the decision to fire at the APC first.

The Nod APC stopped dead in its tracks, but Sergeant Ward knew better than to think that all its occupants were dead. He hoped they suffocated in the smoke. The ground was shaking more violently as the moments passed and the ominous sound of tank treads began to ring in their ears.
"This won't end well, how many more rockets we have left?" Sergeant Ward asked.
"We have plenty," His squadmate responded, "It's just a matter of survivin' long enough to shoot 'em off." The moment was looking grim, his squad was suffering from the lack of manpower. Even if his whole squad was here, with rocket launchers, how could they hope to withstand the firepower from a multitude of tanks. Sergeant Ward felt his heart sink when he watched four tanks burst over the hill, through the snow. It was almost symbolic of his bunker, those tanks were going to run over him just as easily as they were doing the blanket of soft ice. He propped the rocket launcher up against the window of the bunker, and took aim at the far left tank, while ordering his squadmate to hit the far right. He hoped that they could buy time by causing the flanking tanks to sandwich one another.

They fired at the tanks and watched as the rockets screamed towards their targets. Sergeant Ward awaited eagerly to see what the rockets would do, and what the tanks would do. The tanks didn't stray, and kept charging forwards. The rockets hit the left and right tanks, but from his position it didn't even look like the shells dented them. He noticed the tank his squadmate hit was hopping on its left tread, and it suddenly ground to a halt. The lucky dog stopped it!
"Reload!" Sergeant Ward felt renewed in his efforts. They quickly reloaded as the first barrages from the remaining three tanks began to rain on their position. He was sure the Nod tank crews were peeved that a couple of GDI soldiers managed to stab their pride. He hurried to take aim at the ever-so-close tanks. He was just about to fire when one of the tanks suddenly took two rockets from the sky and blew up, sending its turret spinning into the air. He glanced at his squadmate, but he only shrugged. They fired simultaneously just as more rockets poured from the sky onto the unsuspecting tanks, and the invasion was halted in its tracks.

Sergeant Ward jumped out of the bunker and looked around for their savior. He saw in the distance a hover MLRS sitting amidst a batch of trees and foliage, and he cheered the anonymous hero. He watched as the shining champion rode its way over the snow effortlessly towards his bunker.

He turned to go back to the bunker, and gasped for air at the monstrosity staring down at him. He had forgotten about the APC entirely, and certainly didn't expect it to be filled with cyborgs! Whoever wanted his squad dead really was going all out. He quickly realized he had left his assault rifle in the bunker, and instinctively yanked out his sidearm. The cyborg simply swatted him out of the way. The other cyborgs calmly crawled into the bunker, and Sergeant Ward feared for the worst for "Blackster" and his squadmates.

The cyborg that he first encountered was fixated on him. His biological eye looked lifeless, but his mechanical eye gleamed with excitement at the opportunity to kill a GDI soldier. Sergeant Ward twitched when he heard gunshots inside the bunker, and again he raised his pistol to shoot the intruder. This time firing off his entire mag, but the bullets did nothing to even phase it. The cyborg raised its minigun and pointed it right at him, but didn't fire. Sergeant Ward was fearful that if he was correct, the cyborg wanted to make it a game and wanted him to run; either, he ran and died or didn't run and died anyway. Not a good position. He stood up to stare into the face of the machine, he wasn't about to let it have its fun. He glared into its mechanical eye. Suddenly, a shot rang out and the cyborg dropped, with a gaping hole in the back of its head.
"I thought ya could use some help." McGaven smiled, producing a shotgun.
"Quick! Get the cyborgs in the bunker!" Sergeant Ward ordered. Corporal McGaven took the squad to the window of the bunker and they fired into it wildly, eliminating them quickly and ruthlessly.

The day had turned into a mess. The hover MLRS pilot radioed for an APC to evacuate the survivors.
The medic was killed almost immediately when the cyborgs entered the bunker. Sergeant Ward's squadmate that helped to destroy the tanks had been severely injured, and with no medic he had died soon after from shock and blood loss. "Blackster" had managed to drag the dying soldier into the sleeping quarters and lock it down from the assailing cyborgs. Sergeant Ward was sitting and leaning against the wall, staring at his dead squadmates. He was glad that someone in the bunker had managed to survive. He couldn't help but ask why it had to be them, as he covered their bodies with a blanket.


Team Black

"Sir, we're getting attacked, just get down and stay back there!"
Exactly what he didn't want to hear.
Black pulled out his sidearm, and got ready for the worst. He wanted to go up top and help Ward, but he had only basic combat training. In addition, any good Captain knows to respect a Sergeant in his area of expertise. He had been given a mission, this was now Black's territory. No enemy enters this place and lives.
He waited. He heard the sound of heavy vehicles approaching. Someone fired a rocket. The vehicles were getting closer. More rockets. An explosion outside, and a GDI infantry fell to the ground badly wounded, just outside the base. Black knew Ward was busy fighting the vehicles, and wouldn't be able to help him.
Black took action, and bolted out of the bunker.
Took his fallen comrade by the shoulders and dragged him inside to safety. Just in time, as he heard machine gun bullets ringing around the outside of the door.
He wasn't able to get the door closed - not without risking shot by whatever was outside. It was getting closer. He picked up the soldier again, who was now shaking violently from shock. Something lumbered through the door - the bulky, hideous body of a cyborg! its chain gun spun up and pointed its gun at Black before he could react
--then it reeled back, some bullets were firing out from another room, and knocked the borg off balance. More shadows of cyborgs approached the door.
"Bring him here! quick!", a voice said, behind him. It was the the medic, brandishing an M16 MKII, and pointing his other hand to the door behind him.
Black dragged the soldier as fast as he could towards the room. The medic let loose in full auto, fire in his eyes.
A few shots from the cyborgs knocked the medic's gun away, and injured him badly. The cyborgs then turned their attention on Black and his wounded comrade, opened fire...
The medic leaped in the way, and took it all. Black shut the heavy steel door, safe. For now.

Black scrambled around, found some cloth, to put pressure on the soldier's gaping wounds. Where to start? entry wounds, exit wounds, some in the chest sucking into the lungs; this poor man was a mess.
More explosions outside, and some pings of the cyborg's bullets bouncing off of the reinforced armor of the door.

"Tell her....", the fallen soldier muttered. Black leaned close and fixed his gaze on the soldier, showing that he had his full attention.
"Tell Victoria....I love her.....more than anything!" the soldier mumbled, still shaking uncontrollably.
"I love her......."
"I'll tell her that, my friend. You fought well", Blackster gave him the most sincere look he could possibly muster.
The soldier was now satisfied, and then faded out of consciousness, out of space, and out of time.
"DAMMIT!" Black shouted, and started CPR. Probably useless, but he wasn't going to give up.

Blackster took note of his name...Schiff. He was a Specialist, E-4.
"Don't make me tell her, Schiff, you're gonna be fine. COME ON!"
Black continued the CPR until his arms were on fire, then kept going. After a long while, his muscles seized up, and black fell over, exhausted. He'd done all he could for this man.

Black kicked over a cot and sat down behind it, catching his breath - The cot wasn't much for cover, but at least some concealment if the door were breached. He got his pistol and kept it on hand, his magazines were all laid out on the floor next to him, ready to load up any nod scum with bullets. This was his territory.
Silence. The fighting outside stopped. Had they forgotten him?

Footsteps. closer. Outside the door. Playing with the code-lock. Black leveled his pistol. Then the door opened.
Surprised, Black flinched his finger and fired a round. He paused, ears ringing from the sound. No one was there.
"I surrender" came a familiar voice, half mockingly.
"Yeah it's me", a figure cautiously poked his head around the corner. Blackster gave a great sigh of relief. He stood up, reloaded his gun and placed the other magazines back onto his belt."Is the area secure?", he asked.
"Yeah, it's secure - for now. A MLRS dropped by to save our butts, and more help is on the way"
"Any idea what happened?"
"Besides getting gunned down, no idea" Ward said, his face riddled with bitter disappointment, and gave Black a cold look as if to say I don't want to talk about it
Black took the hint, and he understood well, since he himself lost about half his own wing mates in the firewall incident.


DaTS / Team Black

Bridge of the B.C.S. Alexandria
Brotherhood 3rd United Fleet
1530 ZULU
Atlantic Ocean, 950km off the coast of Spain

Captain "Nexus" Spoor, on her bridge, reeled back at the blinding light blazed outside the bridge's reinforced windows, which themselves
cracked from the shockwave.
"Steven!" She shouted, getting her bearings together. She could barely hear her own voice, her ears ringing loudly. Everything went dark. The EMP effect
of the ion cannon had shut off all the systems, and the blinding light from the ion cannon left glowing blotches in her vision; the eyes would need to
adjust. She stood up, and tripped. "Wolfe!"

Still disoriented, she stayed on all fours to get her senses back. Others on the bridge were in the same situation, fumbling, trying to get oriented.
One officer tripped over Spoor in the dark, and the sound of bone hitting steel, through the ringing in her ears.
"Damage report!" she shouted, slowly coming to her feet. The ship then rocked on a wave, forcing her to get back down. There were voices, but sounded
garbled and unorganized.
"Damage report!" She could make out the shapes of figures, through the limited light from the windows, with the storm clouds covering the evening sky.
She clumsily rushed to one of the windows. Through the cracks she saw the glowing steamy hulk of what was left of Admiral Steven Wolfe's ship, already
sinking irrecoverably.
Captain Spoor bit her lip. With the ranking officers dead, she was now in charge of the fleet.

Someone tapped her on the shoulder from behind, she turned to see one of the bridge officers, trying to shout something. Spoor's ears were still
ringing, all the sounds were muffled, like something from a bad stereo. It was almost impossible to read his lips. Behind him, the red bridge lights
lights were beginning to come back on. She still couldn't figure out what this man was saying, though she noticed there was a cut on his forehead. His
expression turned to shock, and he pointed back out the window. Spoor had just enough time to turn around and see the bow of her ship spear the Zeus
into its Starboard side.

The impact sent everyone reeling forward, and outside came the screeching sound of metal on metal.  Spoor's forehead hit the cracked window, and
though her beret provided some protection, she already knew there would be a bruise. Both ships deflected, and dragged apart, with more horrendous
metal screeching. The B.C.S. Alexandria suffered mostly visual damage, as her bow was heavily armored. The Zeus, however, which had already taken a
great deal of punishment from the battle, revealed a sizable gash which began taking on water immediately.
"Idiot! What in Kane's name is he doing there??" she shouted, although it was clear the ship was acting on its own to evade enemy fire.
Control was already breaking down with the loss of Phoenix and his flagship. She looked back at her bridge. Most of the officers had found their
stations, though each with their own array of gashes, and bruises. Time to take control.
She took a headset, and paged the fleet. "All ships, all ships, this is Captain Alexis Spoor of the B.C.S. Alexandria. I am now in charge of the
fleet. All ships will stand down to cloak, for an immediate withdrawal. I repeat, stand down and cloak for immediate withdrawal"

Outside, lightning flashed the sky, and rain plinking outside on the deck. Some shells and rockets firing sporadically. Smoke and fire from burning
ships shown through the darkness, and right in front of her, the Zeus was listing dangerously to Starboard.
There was nothing more this fleet could do. It could probably finish off the GDI fleet, but at the cost of becoming combat ineffective for the invasion
of Hammerfest. Time to suck up the losses, regroup, and rearm.

"Captain, this is Commander Nicholas Vance, Captain of the Zeus", came in over the headset.
"Say again?", she responded, putting her hand to her ear, and turning up the volume. The ringing in her ears had faded only a little.
"This is the Zeus. We've taken too much water, and am giving the call to abandon ship. Request boarding."
"Boarding granted. Commander Bowman will take it from here"

She turned to her First Officer, Commander Jonathan Bowman. In his mid-forties, his grey-streaked hair and stone-hard expression were reflections of his
confidence, and lifelong experience.
"Commander, you have the bridge. The Zeus is abandoning ship, prepare to take passengers. I need to make some calls in my ready room."
"Yes ma'am, we'll take care of it", he nodded, respectfully. Immediately he began barking orders, "Helm! Bring us alongside the Zeus! Lieutenant, get
some people out there! Move! Damage control, put out those fires! Engineering, get your head out of your ass, we need that cloak yesterday!"

With that, Spoor left the bridge, closed the bulkhead door, and slumped in her chair; the image of the smoldering B.N.S. Sarajevo still in her head.
Steven Wolfe had been her mentor. He was invincible. Even now, despite her sound judgement, it felt like he was still alive. Though she was indeed a
Captain by rank, the honest truth was that she'd never had the experience of leading a fleet in this capacity, always having relied on Wolfe's solid leadership
and tactical prowess when things got difficult. Was she ready?

"Captain, all remaining hands from the Zeus are safely aboard, except one.", Commander Bowman reported to Spoor's comm.
"It's Commander Vance, Ma'am. I suggest you talk to him."
"Sh*t." blurted Spoor, already guessing the situation.

Spoor contacted the Zeus, "Commander Vance? This is Captain Spoor."
"This is Commander Vance. Go ahead, Captain"
"Commander, the collision was our fault, please, don't add your death to our failure"
"Respectfully, ma'am, the enemy did this, not you. I serve Kane and I serve my crew, but this ship is my life."
"Commander, I know you love your ship, but you can save yourself. Get on the Alexandria while there's still time! We need you."
"I go down with my ship. That is final." Said Commander Vance, then a click and static.

At that, the Zeus began to capsize. Captain Spoor watched through the window as The Alexandria pulled away from the Zeus. The Zeus rolled over
elegantly, then the bow sank beneath the waves. The stern of the ship lifted slowly out of the water, revealing large holes near the rudder and keel,
which looked like they were patched from the inside. The stern went vertical and the BNS-054 Zeus finally slid below the surface to her final resting

Spoor sat down in her command chair with a heavy sigh. She didn't want to tell Oxanna. She just wanted to sleep, to pretend that this didn't just
happen. Phoenix was her mentor. He had practically raised her since she graduated from the Brotherhood Naval Temple. She didn't - couldn't - believe
that he was really gone. These emotions were doubtless going to interfere with her leadership. In command for an hour, and she had already lost a ship on
her watch, and wasted the honor of its Captain. No doubt word would spread that it was her ship that had caused it, and generate animosity among the

Running this fleet would surely break her. She debated what to do, glancing briefly at the pistol in her holster.
No. Steven didn't die for me to just give up now. I've got a fleet to run.


"Incoming Transmission from Admiral Alexandra Spoor" came voice the out-dated EVA.

Oxanna sat up in her chair, surprised to hear such a title. Either the confounded EVA was malfunctioning, or something was greatly amiss.
"On Screen". she said, calmly. "What news from the fleet, Captain Spoor?", Oxanna greeted, using the supposed misunderstanding to draw the matter into the conversation.
"Admiral, as of 1400 hours...", commented, but there wasn't a hint of pride in her response. Rather, regret.
"...and I have to report a rather unfortunate turn of events..." Oxanna's heart jumped as she heard this, but showed no outward emotion.
Spoor continued, "On our way through Bermuda, we came in contact with a fleet of GDI ships..."
imposible, Oxanna thought. She'd spent night and day monitoring all of GDI's naval movements.

"...We had no choice but to engage them, and after taking some losses to ourselves, we crippled them."
"Cut to the chase, please, what happened to Wolfe?"
"W-wolf is dead. Ion cannon.", Spoor winced at her own statement, "Slavik promoted me to High Admiral and gave me the fleet."
"Slavik promoted you?", Oxanna said, skeptically, "I've seen your record, Spoor, and frankly I don't see anything to instill my confidence, let alone his. Who did you kill?"
Spoor became a bit more stern. "General, I understand I have yet to earn your trust, but I am no betrayer. It was under Wolfe's personal recommendation, a short time after I became Captain of the Alexandria. I can send you the archive of the discussion, if you have any doubts."
"I don't need a recording, I need to know that I can count on you, Admiral. This is an extremely critical mission, for the survival of the very Brotherhood itself."
Spoor hesitated, just for a second.
"Yes. We will will fight side by side for the honor of Steven Wolfe, and for Kane."
"Kane lives in death."
"I'll report back when we make port in Morocco."

With that, the screen faded black again.
Oxanna was now left alone to her thoughts. So, Wolfe was dead. She felt emotion pushing through, but she abruptly pushed it away.
Good riddance, I never loved you in the first place. I was only using you. I didn't love you.

A single tear dropped from Oxanna's eye, the most she'd cried in years.


Team Black

Blackster sat in the bunker with the rest of Sergeant Ward's troop, waiting to be brought back to the main base, to be replaced with another pack of eager newbies to man the bunker.
The Hover MLRS, idle, set its energy to scanning the area for more enemy movement.
The two body bags of Brian Schiff and the medic were put just outside the bunker.
The troop had piled up the dead cyborgs a ways away from the bunker, poured gasoline on them, and let them burn.
hours went by.
Ward was wary, ready for anything. Black was anxious to get back into a plane, and fly the heck outta here. McGaven was in the corner, snoring heavily.
The other guys in the troop were playing cards again, as usual.
From off in the distance, they heard the sound of aircraft engines. Everyone stood up, looking out the bunker windows, very curious as to what it might be.
Even with binoculars though, they were still to far in the distance to tell.
They had better be friendly.

The Fall of Hammerfest - Epic Tiberian chain story

Tiberian Odyssey mapping department. Discord
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Team Black
Defense Minister

Joined: 25 Sep 2006
Location: Teamblackistan Posts: Over 9000

PostPosted: Fri May 08, 2015 9:03 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote  Mark this post and the followings unread

Chapter 3


Sergeant Ward and his squad watched the aircraft squadron making their way steadily to their position. Next to him sat McGaven on the hover MLRS, awaiting sensor information that the pilot was reading from the inbound targets.
"McGaven, tell that pilot to hurry up, the targets are almost here and if they're enemies, we're going to need him ready to fight."
"I have an idea! Let's surrender," McGaven joked. Ward actually considered it as a possibility. They had no way to fight back enemy airships, except perhaps the hover MLRS. The best defense was probably the camouflage of their bunker, for concealment.
"Sir, should we get the rocket launchers?" One of his squadmates meekly asked. Ward just stood there, absorbed in his thoughts. The soldier repeated his question again, but when the result was no different he quickly sparked up a cigarette and went back to watching the aircraft.
"Is there anyone at checkpoint Foxtrot that can hear us?" The radio crackled. Ward turned his head back towards the hover MLRS, thinking that the driver had made contact.
The driver was looking at McGaven. Naturally, McGaven was admiring his assault rifle.
"Corporal!" Sergeant Ward yelled. McGaven suddenly came out of his trance, and looked at his squad leader.
"Pay attention! Do you have a radio?"
"Uh... yea, I found one at the wreckage, why?"
"Repeat, is there anyone at checkpoint Foxtrot that can hear us?" The radio stated again.
"Oh, that's why," McGaven stated as he reached into his backpack, and pulled out a radio transmitter, "it did this before, they can't hear ya though."
"Hand it to me, if I can get the frequency I could reach them on my radio," The driver affirmed. McGaven tossed the radio to the pilot, and the pilot almost had a heart attack when he nearly dropped it. The squad went back to the bunker, fairly relieved that the incoming airships were trying to make contact with them. Nod was all about stealth, there was almost no doubt in their minds that more GDI reinforcements were on their way.

Upon entering the bunker they found "Blackster" sitting next to the heaters and drinking his coffee. McGaven went back into his sleeping quarters to get back the sleep he lost when they woke him earlier to see the squadron. Sergeant Ward's squadmates went back to their card game, and he went to writing the letters to the dead soldiers families. A few minutes after getting the transmitter the pilot confirmed their beliefs that the airships were GDI, and shortly after the squadron made it to their destination. The orca carryalls dropped a couple GDI APC's and out poured two platoons of fresh GDI soldiers, who spread out to make sure the entire surrounding area was clear. Sergeant Ward chuckled at the thought of them coming across the burning tanks and cyborgs. He and his squad left the safety of the bunker again to greet the newcomers.
"So, hows my bunker doing?" The officer jeered. Ward was taken off-guard by the arrogance, he was expecting at least a greeting.
"Excuse me?"
"I'm Second Lieutenant Abernathy, I will be taking command, and you will be leaving," He blatantly ordered. Sergeant Ward had no objections, but he felt highly threatened.
"All right, squad lets load up," Ward said, testing the new officer.
"Ignore that order, I have instructions for Sergeant Ward and Captain Black to return to base to debrief. Everyone else is staying here." Ward saw it coming, but was still ultimately shocked. He turned to look at McGaven, and was glad to see that his face was red hot with anger. He wasn't one to be pushed around lightly, especially a butterbar Lieutenant like Abernathy.

Sergeant Ward and "Blackster" sat in the APC, next to their fallen comrades laid out on the floor of the vehicle. He saluted Corporal McGaven as the back door sealed shut. Lieutenant Aberthany nodded back, thinking the salute was meant for himself, but still not courteous enough to salute in return. McGaven watched as the orca carryall latched on and lifted them away to Hammerfest. He picked up his assault rifle and pat his squadmates on the back. McGaven tried to reassure them that they were safe with the new precautions being taken by Lieutenant Abernathy, but he was unsure himself if he was trying to convince them or himself.
"Damn military chain-of-command," McGaven grumbled, as he glared at Abernathy. The squad was fine out here, why did these new people have to come along and screw everything up. All they needed was a new medic, he thought. Subconsciously he knew, the real reason why he hated the new way was because this new officer wouldn't be near as forgiving if he disobeyed a direct order. Maybe, McGaven thought, the squad will return back to normal soon. Specialist Brian Schiff was evidence to the contrary, unfortunately.


DaTS / Team Black

B.C.S. Alexandria
0530 ZULU (11:30am Local time)
Brotherhood, Port of Morocco

Admiral Alexandra "Nexus" Spoor stood outside on the balcony connecting the bridge looking outside at the brilliant blue sky. It was very uncommon to see the sky so clear. Maybe it was an omen showing good fortune. The engineers onboard the Alexandria had gotten the rear turret running again, but only to limited capacity. They needed new rails for it to turn on, which wouldn't be hard to get at the port. Without Wolfe's Sarajevo flagship, the Alexandria was also being upgraded with greater technology and armaments, in order to fill its new role of Flagship.

Nexus had just gotten off the line with Oxanna again, who had been very unusually calm this time. She seemed to be showing a bit of pride, although Nexus couldn't tell why. Despite having a moderately rough start, she and Oxanna were finding more ways to cooperate, and their mutual confidence in each other was strengthening. Having Wolfe as a common ground for conversation proved to be a benefit, and truth be told, she was actually feeling excited to be on Oxanna's team.

Nexus looked again at the sky; full, and blue. Up North in Hammerfest, it would be cold, cloudy, and harsh. She then pulled a silver cross necklace out from under her uniform, and gripped it with her fist. The Brotherhood denounced having religion, other than that involving Kane, but she could care less. At her heart, she was a proud Christian girl, and Kane, whatever he was, could never replace it. She kissed the necklace, and put it back inside her uniform.

"Enjoying the view, Admiral?", came a female voice. Spoor turned around to see another Nod admiral; rigid, professional, and decorated.
"I pray that it never gets old", Spoor commented, cautiously prideful of her flagship. "Would you care to join me in the Officer's Mess? My senior staff are assembling there shortly to talk about the coming mission"
"Precisely why I'm here. Please, lead the way"

The Admirals continued their conversation as they made their way down the steel halls of the ship.
"It's a pleasure to have you come in person, Admiral Bellatrix. Your Mediterranean fleet has been more than generous to accommodate us, on such short notice"
Admiral Kylene Bellatrix "Dark Angel", was the commander of the 7th United Fleet, Mediterranean Command.
"Consider it a debt repaid. Though I hardly knew him personally, Wolfe and his damned ship have saved us countless times over the years. I only wish I could have thanked him personally."
"We all do, Kylene"
Admiral Bellatrix became more serious, but intentionally non-threatening.
"I need you to understand, Spoor, if things go bad up there, I will be ordered to bring up the Odyssey and take control. This mission is critical. I don't want to have to clean up a mess, do you understand?"
"you won't have to worry about me, Bellatrix. Wolfe build this fleet with his bare hands, and it has never seen defeat."
A look of disappointment came across Admiral Bellatrix's face.
"That's the difference between you and I, Spoor, and I hope to Kane that you learn it fast. You can't rely on a steady wind and clear skies to earn you victory. You must earn each and every victory with knowledge, patience, and cold hard precision, and adapt when all your plans go wrong. Burn the midnight oil, study your tactics, and they won't lead you wrong."
Spoor tensed up, feeling belittled.
"I may be new to this position, Bellatrix, but wolfe has taught me well. I'm well aware what it takes to achieve victory, and I'll prove it to you, and to the Brotherhood."

"Admiral on deck!" an officer shouted, as they entered the Officer's Mess.
"At ease" said Spoor.
She and Bellatrix found their seats, which were already set with a plate. The officers paused their meals, now silent, expectantly looking at Admiral Spoor.
"Carry on, everyone. Food first, business second. We've got a lot to talk about"


Team Black

The squad took off; the carryall with the APC, and two orca fighters as escorts.

As they took off, both Blackster and Ward sat silently, looking out the windows.
"We're flying low", Blackster noted with surprise, "and...Hammerfest is in the other direction?"
At this, Ward snapped out of a daydream, and gave another look out the window. "you're right, we're not going towards Hammerfest at all.. ."
They both sighed. More trouble, likely.
Right at that moment, the driver of the APC entered the [room/area], as if he knew what they were thinking just then. Black and Ward tensed up, preparing for a possible conflict.
"There's a change in plans", the APC driver said.
"We noticed", Black said, looking at his rank, E-6. "Would you mind telling us what's going on, Staff Sergeant?"
"We're not going to Hammerfest..." The driver continued, "We're cut off from it."
"How so?" said Ward, suspiciously.
"The Firestorm wall", the driver continued, "Someone is overriding the controls. To try and cross it would be suicide-"
"Well, then where did this squadron come from?", asked Black, skeptically, "Is there another base around that we don't know about?"
"You got it, sir. We're using a hidden Forgotten base as a staging point-"

"Woah there, GDI is asking shiners for help? Shouldn't it be the other way around?", Black questioned
"Sir, we're trying to keep this operation on the down low, so Nod thinks they've got the upper hand. The senior officers can tell you all about it on your debrief. Basically, Hammerfest is completely cut off from its own perimeter, and they don't even know it - there's no means of communicating with them, and anything that tries to cross the AWOL firestorm gets roasted. If you noticed these past few days, our radios have been getting weaker. Now I'd say we can't pick up anything outside about a Mile lately.

"It smelled suspiciously like a Nod would be behind all this. Forgotten scouts affirmed this, when they reported a cloaked Nod outpost about fourty klicks Eastward. They volunteered to have GDI use their base as a staging point for a combined counterattack. It's the best we can do for now, aside from hoping that Hammerfest realizes that something's up. Its' not likely though, now that everyone's thinking that the war's over, and General McNeil still caught up around his brother's death.
So we're flying low to avoid detection, so Nod won't catch on to what we're doing. So when they attack, we can throw em off with a heavy counterattack out of the blue."
Both Ward and Black eased up, beginning to put the pieces together.
"And so that's why they were so interested in our bunker", Ward noted. Then with some shock realized, "The other bunkers probably weren't so lucky as us, I'd expect"
A short silence.
"Well, you have the Captain's wingmate to thank for that...We flagged him down, after the firestorm wall scattered his crew. He got your distress call, told us, then we came running"
"Distress call?" asked Ward. Then he remembered how McGaven got the radio off of Blackster's Carryall. He probably did some yelling into it during Nod's attack on the Bunker. "Oh yeah, I get it now.."
"Who was it?", Blackster blurted, excited to hear that someone from his squad had survived
"Jenson, and his copilot", the Driver recalled, "There was them, and one more carryall that we have with us."
"That's good news.. So, who's flying this carryall?" Black said, with some interest
"A guy from Russia, same story as yours, almost- was on a routine supply route, when he lost his squad in the firewall. He turned around, looking for a place to land, and we signaled him over to group up at the mutant base."

"What kind of force have we got over there, with the mutants?" asked Ward
"A pretty good one. And the mutants have a decent force too. Got all kinds of old Mammoth tanks and stuff there. I wouldn't expect em to use all of it just to help us fight, though. They're being kind enough, just letting us crowd up their base with all our sh*t."
"So what's our plan of attack?" Ward said, with some interest. Getting eager at paying Nod back for the lives of his squadmates.
"Not really sure", he said with a shrug, "that's up for the brass to decide. I'm just an APC driver"


Team Black

They reached their destination, which looked more like an abandoned village than a military base.
"This the place?" Black asked casually, hiding the fact that it was an actual question.
"Sure thing. Check it out", said the APC driver. Black watched skeptically as the carryall headed towards a cliff, which then opened up, into a spectacular underground base, with all sorts of buildings, Tiberium silos, war factories, sensor arrays, and other odds and ends, of which the shiners had fabricated into some means to deliver death to their enemies.
Among the Shiner's equipment were many out-dated models from the first Tiberium war, of both GDI and Nod make: humvees, mobile artillery, and ... Mammoth tanks.

Their APC was dropped neatly next to a row of some other of GDI's vehicles, and then the carryall flew off down one of the caverns.
Likely to a hidden hangar bay, in an abandoned barn or something, Blackster thought.
They then exited the APC, carrying the body bags of Schiff and the Medic. As they stepped out, they were greeted by a single military ambulance.
"Well I'll catch you guys later. Sir.", said the APC driver, saluting Black.
"Thanks again, Tech Sergeant", Black returned the salute, and the driver headed off to the barracks. Ward and Black put the bodies into the back of the ambulance, and packed into the front seat. From there, they went to the medical center, got checked out, and then given a tent to pitch with the rest of the GDI soldiers.
After reporting to the command tent, they were each given a pager, with a built-in EVA interface. "Don't lose these", warned a Colonel, "If you miss a briefing, you're walking home. And it's a long way to walk", he said, with no hint of humor in his voice, "Just kidding. But seriously, keep at the ready, it could hit the fan real soon", then the officer leaned in, and said in a low whisper, "keep your distance from the mutants. They're a little upset at GDI over Tratos's assassination, if you haven't heard. We're lucky they don't just kick us out of their base right here and now."
Black and Ward each said their acknowledgments, and went separate ways to set up their tents.



Sergeant Ward sat at the front of the debriefing room facing out towards the meeting, getting stared down by a room full of mutants and GDI military personnel. A rather shaky lieutenant was the one standing at the front of the room going over Ward's report, quickly reading through to the Nod blitzkrieg and completely bypassing his fallen squadmates. Not that it mattered to the cause if his squadmates were mentioned, it just would have made Ward feel a little less guilty about their deaths if someone other than him knew about it.
"All right...," The lieutenant muttered, flicking through the report nervously, "Uh... okay, well we know that Nod has been resorting to quick attacks to the outer perimeter, most of the defending Hammerfest bunkers have been destroyed, but the few we have cannot fall to Nod."
"So, they can't handle themselves against a few tanks and some cyborgs? Sounds like a s*tty perimeter." A mutant somewhere in the back of the room said arrogantly.
"Maybe we shoulda just taken Hammerfest ourselves, and sold it to Nod" another mutant jeered. It was clear the comment was only a jest, but the GDI in the room started to tense up; many of their comerades had died in those attacks. Ward scowled. He could tell the GDI in the crowd were already getting uneasy sitting next to their tiberium counterparts. The room was cut into two: mutants on one side, and GDI on the other. When Ward originally entered the room he was almost overwhelmed by the irony, he wanted to help not only his
family and friends by joining GDI but he wanted to help the mutants, the very people many GDI soldiers couldn't stand to be near. The blatantly nervous GDI lieutenant didn't help to gain mutant respect either.
"Enough! Yes, they wouldn't be much of a threat if it was just tanks and cyborgs," the lieutenant stated, "unfortunately, they have control of Hammerfest's firestorm defense, and are also sending a large contingent of Nod destroyers and carriers to this very region. Communications with the Philadelphia are next to none, so we're looking at a bad situation on our hands."
"You act like those are strange circumstances for you guys. Nod makes a joke of you time after time. It's like Nod's just let the war go on so long just to give GDI a fighting chance," The same anonymous mutant laughed in the back.
"If GDI had their sh*t together, Tratos would still be alive!" someone shouted.
The GDI portion of the crowd erupted at the remark, and began yelling at the mutants. The mutants took the initial assaults, but soon got into it when certain slang words were used. The lieutenant suddenly became even more insignificant than he was before at his attempts to ease the room. Sergeant Ward got up and head towards the exit in an attempt to escape the idiocy of it all. Just a few feet from the door, some mutant leg stuck out, tripping him right on his face. and when the GDI side of the room saw this they went into full out fight with the mutants. He covered his head, and continued to stay on the ground when the base's military police came.


Sergeant Ward sat on a cot in the medical tent, getting a quick look over by one of the paramedics to make sure all he suffered was a minor fall. Captain Tom Black entered the tent shortly after hearing of the incident.
"So, I hear our allies love us more than ever," He teased.
"You should know, I hear GDI pilots are getting it worse than we are, sir."
"That's exactly what I hear about the infantry,"

Ward glanced at the medic, remembering he needed a new one. She was a GDI Marine, rank E-3.
"Hey, ah, Lance Corporal. I lost my previous medic at the bunker, you know where I can find someone to take his place?"
"Well, I suppose I could actually, I'm not officially assigned to any platoon, or company for that matter," She said.
"That doesn't sound good. What happened?" Black asked.
"My platoon died when the carryall hit the firewall, sir, the only reason I'm alive is because they didn't have enough room for me in their APC. They put me in a different one, and everyone else in my company made it into Hammerfest before everything went out of control."
"All right, simple enough, I guess I still have to put through the recommendation," Ward relaxed. Finally, something was going his way
He got her name, then she left to go help out other patients. Black and Ward left the tent, still considering their circumstances.

"So I just came back from command post. That Nod navy heading to Hammerfest, our flyboys here are gearing up to attack it." Black piped up.
"If they uncloak, the ion cannon should give em a good whack"
"We can't make assumptions about the ion cannon. It might be up, might be down. Either way, our uplink can't get local control of it. Our communications

are getting less and less effective by the hour. The last time they got anything through to Philadelphia was two days ago, and it was very shoddy. It's been coming through sporadically throughout the day, no one is really sure whats going on up there, but it isn't anything good," Black sighed, "from what our intel gathers, we don't have any reinforcements on the way."
So much for things going his way.
"Wow, they didn't cover any of that info in our debrief. Would have been nice to know.", Ward frowned. Black glanced around quick.
"Well, that's command post for ya. I'll keep you in the loop when I can, Ward."

They got to Black's tent, which was a small, olive drab, single person tent.
"Well, good luck on that air strike. I'm sure I'll eventually join you out there. Except, on the ground of course," Ward smirked.
"One second", Black said. He reached into the tent, picked something up; a familiar looking electronic box.
"Here. This might help you keep in touch with your bunker. These things are pretty amazing. Just don't lose it, or break it"
Blackster handed Ward an Orca transmitter radio.
"Thanks Captain! I'll give it a try"
"Godspeed, Sergeant."

They exchanged salutes, and Blackster entered his tent. Ward made his way down to on of the Infantry tents, set his ruck down, and rolled out a foam pad onto the hard floor. He took out the radio, and started working through the buttons and knobs.


"Damn this cold, damn Abernathy, damn you two," Corporal McGaven stuttered as he shivered in the cold. He and his squad was being treated to a nice introduction to the frozen landscape, courtesy Second Lieutenant Abernathy. They were ordered to keep a consistant patrol around the bunker, while Abernathy's platoons were warm and snug within Foxtrot. Something in his backpack suddenly seemed to spark to life and noise began to spew from it, with a voice calling out to him.
"Aiye, could someone get that stupid thing out of my backpack, its being annoying and calling my name," McGaven ordered.
"Corporal McGaven, this is Sergeant Ward, are you there?"
"Hey, Sarge!" McGaven yelled into the tattered radio, "Where the blazes are ya?"
"It doesn't matter, are you all in the bunker?"
"Nah, Lieutenant Dumbass is keeping us out. I think he hates us, or maybe just you." Corporal McGaven found himself quite a bit happier to hear from his squad leader, but then he found it short lived when he realized that Sergeant Ward was possibly sitting next to a heater.
"Come to think of it, I hate you myself."
"Yea, I know," Ward laughed.
"No, seriously."


Team Black

"Fifteen minutes until briefing" Black's pager woke him up. Black groaned, "What's the time, EVA?"
Black leapt to his feet without thinking, still asleep in his mind, though his body followed the normal routine, zipped up his flight suit, tied up his boots, and threw on his flight jacket. Splashed his face with some ice cold water from his canteen, and burst out of his tent. His eyes were still squinting, making out objects lit by the cave's alphalightposts. A Humvee was driving by, Black waved it over. "You headed by the command building, by chance?" he asked the driver, who was a mutant.
"To the armory, a couple a' blocks away from there. There's room in the back."
"Thanks a lot" Black climbed into the back, where another mutant was sitting.
" 'morning", Black said awkwardly.
"Hmph", the mutant grunted.
Black did his best to hide the awkwardness of having to sit tight with a couple of mutant strangers. But, he'd rather do this than be late for his briefing - they'd put him on a spit. Darn EVA for only giving him only fifteen minutes of warning.
"Seven minutes remaining", the EVA pager announced. Black began to sweat, even though he was shivering cold from the arctic weather. The driver was going
at a good pace, but it still might not even be enough to get him to briefing on time. After what seemed like an eternity, the driver pulled up to the armory and parked the humvee next to some other miscellaneous out-dated military vehicles.
"Thanks again", Black said.
"Hmph", grunted the mutants.
They all barreled out of the humvee and began their separate ways. "Where's the command building from here?" Black said to his pager, which displayed the 2:23 left of countdown till briefing, with some-odd random green zero's and ones flying in the background. EVA's face appeared on the screen, "three blocks, in this direction", then a compass replaced the EVA face, and gave the distance away, to the nearest meter.
Black looked up, way off in the distance, and saw the command building. Without a moment's hesitation, he blitzed as fast as he could towards it. He saw another guy about a block in front of him, running in a similar fashion towards the same building. Black crossed a dirt road, almost getting run over by a harvester. He waved apologetically, and kept on running. Huffing the frigid air, cramping up from the cold, but only one block to go. He tripped on a random pipe, but somersaulted quick, jumped back up, and kept running. His lungs were about to burst. The command building was a relatively plain, single story concrete building, with both a GDI flag and a mutant flag hung by the steel doors of the main
entrance. Black slowed his pace to a brisk walk upon seeing the MPs, who were guarding it. They recognized him, saluted, and opened the door, seeing that he was in a hurry. "Thanks, guys", Black said, returning the salute, and entering the building.

Straight down the hall, last door on the right Blackster reminded himself. He skidded to a stop before reaching the door, took a second to breathe,
and entered the room. Half the room stared at him, Blackster spotted a clock to see how late he was. 0300 on the dot. The Colonel looked up and raised an eyebrow, as if to say "you're a lucky sonufabitch"
Black awkwardly made his way to the back of the room to find an empty chair. Another pilot silently waved him over, where there was an open spot to sit. Black was surprised to see it was one of his squadmates! They both gave each other a happy glance, without making a sound. The Colonel began the briefing.

"Well, we were supposed to have done a joint attack on nod with the mutants, but it looks like they were over-eager and started their assault without us, without us even knowing it until approximately half an hour ago. They've already broken through their outer defenses and are pressing toward the heart of what appears to be a medium-sized base. It's safe to doubt that this will be all Nod has in the area, as they'd need a hell of a lot more stuff if they want to think about attacking a fortified base like Hammerfest.
The mutants are probably capable of bringing this base to its knees, but we want to give them as much support as we can, nonetheless. They are after all, doing us a huge favor by letting us use their base, and we're here to establish and maintain a good rapport with them.
We'll only be attacking with light units, since there isn't a whole lot of the base that would warrant the heavy stuff. We'll have three formations of Orca fighters to soften up the base. After that we'll roll in our APCs, escorted by Wolverines, to join the mutants on the ground."

He then listed off the squad order, who would be in each squad, the leaders, and the assignments.
"...Black, you'll be, Black leader. Your squad will concentrate on the power plants and base defenses..."
Blackster was excited at the thought of being back in the sky again, leading a flight.
"Okay guys, time to rock and roll. Get out there and kick some ass", the briefing was dismissed and Black hurried off to the hangar with the other pilots. Black was surprised to see not only GDI's new sleek Orca models, but also some of the old clunky ones from back in the 90's, belonging to the mutants. He got into the Black 1 Orca, went through his checklist, and awaited Ground Control's instructions for take off.
Blue squadron went first, then green. Black's was last. When he finally got the clearance for takeoff, then he fired up his engines and flew out of the
hangar's "barn" entrance. One by one, the rest of his squadron followed suit until they were all out. They formed up in their flying V's, and made their
way towards the Nod base.


"Forgive the interruption", pleaded the Nod officer on the screen. "A great horde of mutants came out of nowhere and have us overrun. We are doing our best to hold them off, but it it doesn't look like we'll be able to break them."
Oxanna stared coolly at the desperate figure,"And...?", she said, calmly.
"We are planning to retreat, but there will be none to follow us""
Oxanna understood the meaning of that. "Proceed, faithful one. It will be only a minor setback in part of the bigger plan."
"For Kane", the Nod officer ended the transmission.
Oxanna had word from Admiral Spoor, that her fleet had just finished repairs at the Moroccan port, and were preparing to leave for Hammerfest. It shouldn't be long now.


"Any luck with that firestorm?", McNeil asked the technicians, who had been working around the clock with checks and diagnostics on the Firestorm, trying to find flaws.
"Nothing. No bugs, no errors, no nothing. Everything's working at peak condition"
"Damn. Well, it might be nothing. Give it another day, then we'll just pretend like it never happened. If there's no errors, there's no sense in looking for em"
"Will do."
McNeil sat back and let his thoughts stray to Umagon again, and wondered if he'd ever get her back. Tratos was now dead, along with any cure he might have made. Perhaps the tacitus held a key? Who knew.


Spartan Commander / Team Black

Aboard the Philadelphia, Brigadier General Davidson relaxed in his quarters, with a book and a glass of bourbon, enjoying some brain drain time after his last campaign. He'd spent most of the war in Africa, pushing towards Kane's temple from the South. His forces had performed to their utmost; won many battles, and covered much ground.
Even so, it was not fast enough by the time McNeil did his little Deus Ex Machina. Without waiting for support, McNeil took his forces and barreled in, killed Kane, stopped the missile, and supposedly ran off with some hot commando chick. Well, not every General can be so lucky.
"Incoming Transmission from General Solomon" announced EVA. Davidson let out a sigh, and pressed a button to turn on the screen.

"Davidson," Solomon said
"Yes, General? Davidson replied, holding back a yawn.
"I hope you've enjoyed a bit of a break. I've got a new job for you up in Hammerfest"
General Davidson sat up. "Hammerfest, huh?" speaking of McNeil..
"We've lost contact with our base, and we need a team to check it out. I have a full brief waiting for you, but basically, she's a black hole. No communications whatsoever. Not even satellite recon, or ion control can get in. Our analysts agree that it is likely Nod, using some new kind of jamming technology. It's no secret that Hammerfest has been on Nod's priority list, and so we're going to take every precaution here. I need you to take a strike team, sweep the area, find out whatever the problem is, and fix it. EVA will fill you in on the specifics. Any questions for me?"
General Davidson paused for a moment, sorting through his brain.
"Sir I'd like to request Commander Anderson, and the Monitor as my flagship on this one. Is that possible?"
General Solomon thought for a second, nodded with a half smile. "Consider it done. Godspeed, Davidson"

"Copy all, Sir, will do" and then the transmission ended.
"EVA, assemble my crew please, I need the Monitor prepared and ready to leave in one hour"

General Davidson was commander of the 32nd Lightning Brigade, in EUROCOM. Although he and his command staff were currently aboard the Philadelphia, his forces were on standby down in Germany; freshly equipped and rested after the Africa campaign, and ready to deploy. Davidson always made a point to keep his forces prepared to go anywhere, anytime. Hence why General Solomon selected him for this mission.

"Confirmed," announced EVA, and sent orders to each one of Davidson's crew with the new orders.
Davidson held up his bourbon glass, looked at it, and knocked the rest of it back in one chug, followed by a satisfied "ahh". He then briskly snapped to his feet, put on his jacket and boots, and slung a laptop bag onto his shoulder. That was all the preparation he needed - he always traveled light. His book, he placed on the coffee table next to the bottle of bourbon. "I'll be back for you", and then shut the door behind him.

The lift opened and General Davidson walked out into the Hangar, where the Monitor was already preparing to disembark. The Monitor was the sister ship to McNeil's GDI 3A Kodiak, and though the Kodiak had the more advanced equipment, the Monitor had its own corner of the market in sheer firepower. Commander Anderson, the ship's Captain, loaded down every nook, cranny, and hardpoint with all the munitions such a starship could possibly equip - which was indeed no small amount.
"Officer on Deck!" shouted a ranking officer, giving the Colonel a crisp salute. Anyone who wasn't busy snapped to attention, the rest glanced up and acknowledged.
"Carry on!" Davidson shouted, and returned the officer's salute, mocking disappointment.
"Anderson, how in the hell did you beat me down here? I requested you hardly fifteen minutes ago!"
"We were already on standby for Project Lazarus, but they're busy stopping mutant riots right now. Command decided they decided that sending a Kodiak-Class Battlecruiser was bad PA."
Davidson pictured for a second, a fully armed Monitor zipping around over mobs of barely-armed, angry mutant rioters, and winced.
"Yeah, that probably wouldn't have gone over too well. All the better that you're ready: the sooner we get down there, the sooner we get this whole thing over with. EVA give you the skinny?"
"Yes sir, apparently we're going to Hammerfest", Anderson looked at the Davidson. "did you pack a coat, sir?"
"Nope. You did. And it better have my Russian cap to go with it.
Anderson stopped, with a worried look. Then with a sly smile, "Got it all. Right down to the bunny slippers"
"God dammit that's why I always ask for you, Anderson. Let's do this"

They climbed aboard, and made their way to the ready room. EVA came on the screen, and informed Davidson that his dropships had just departed from Ramstein Air Base. He couldn't help but smile. No other General in the world could match that kind of readiness.
As other staff members filtered in, they began looking at the intel, and forming plans for the upcoming operation.

Within the hour, the Monitor roared out of Dock 25A. It plunged through the atmosphere at hypersonic speed, steadily slowing, and maintaining high altitude over Europe until it joined formation with his dropships, and then together they made their way on towards Hammerfest.

The Fall of Hammerfest - Epic Tiberian chain story

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Team Black
Defense Minister

Joined: 25 Sep 2006
Location: Teamblackistan Posts: Over 9000

PostPosted: Fri Dec 11, 2015 3:14 am    Post subject: Reply with quote  Mark this post and the followings unread

Chapter 4

Team Black

In his Orca Fighter, Black saw smoke and explosions off in the distance. Show time.

"Forward command, Black leader, we are three-zero seconds out, please advise"

*Took you blunts long enough,* said a mutant commander on the intercom. *We have them on the run, the cowards aren't even fighting!*

"Their base defenses?" asked Black.

*Gone to hell. They have no power, no nothing.*

"Okay then, what do you guys need?" asked Black

*Nothing!* the mutant retorted rudely, *But if you MUST help, Nod artillery are covering their retreat - if your toys can handle it, go over and kill em, will you?*

a grid square blinked on Black's map, "cleared hot".

"On it. Black squadron, show these shiners what our 'toy planes' can do. You with us, blue and green?"

*On it,* said the squad leaders


*Watch it, we got SAM,* said a pilot

*Taking evasive action.*

A few of the base's surface to air launchers were still operational, and threw their fiery capsules of death into the air. Some found their targets, but most of the orcas were able to evade them. The experienced pilots were able to guide the missiles to hit Nod's own buildings.


Jadems / Team Black

Nod Private First Class Ordo hid among the debris, and dead bodies, while the figters and rockets zipped by overhead. Throughout the battle, he watched as his comerades evacuated, and ran for their lives. Ordo's mission, however, was much more divine. He'd been selected to stay behind, and detonate the entire base at the proper time. In addition to the manual switch switch in his hand, he was implanted with a death trigger, which would activate if he were to be killed. He was not in the least afraid; many of his fellow troops died before they could take the life of a single GDI dog; he smiled and looked at all of the enemies that he would have the honor to kill in the name of Kane.

He needed a better view of the action. A destroyed power plant was just nearby, though the structure of the cooling tower was still relatively intactact, including the ladder on the side. Most of the fighting had transitioned away from his area, as GDI focused on his retreating comerades. It would be a risk, but also a great opportunity. He gave a cautious look around, and began his sprint to the tower.


Team Black

*left engine gone, eject eject eject!* said a pilot, as he ejected, leaving his fighter to crash to the ground into a ball of fire.

"Artillery in sight", Blackster noted, "They're set up along both sides of a ravine. Green squad, you take the Left side, Black squad go for righties. Blue, draw fire for us"


*Roger that, Blackie.*

They flew over Nod's disorganized retreat a great mob of Nod troops, fleeing for their lives - some even trampling each other.

As the artillery began firing to cover their comerades, the orca swarms overflew with an accurate and deadly salvo of rockets, subsequently turning them into smoldering craters.

*They're retreating into a closed ravine - they're trapping themselves!* a pilot noted.

*Almost makes you feel sorry for em,* said another guy.

*Almost,* another pilot emphasized.

*Heads up, we got enemies approaching in the air.*

"I read you - banshees!" Black noted, "about thirty of em. Our rockets can't lock on these! We'll need some ground support, and fast! What have we got down there?

*Plenty,* replied a mutant, *We have mobile rockets set up in this location," a waypont showed on the minimap, "we'll cover your useless hides. All enemy SAM have been destroyed"

"Roger that, all fighters follow suit," Black ordered. They turned and hastily made for the mutant's coordinates. Their MLRS trucks had settled in the remains of Nod's base, using the destroyed buildings as cover.

*Diggers spotted near enemy troops. Must be evacuating*

Black gave a quick glance towards the cornered Nod ground forces, where dirt and snow began to fly around them; a telltale sign of subterranean vehicles.
He looked back at the approaching enemy fighters, coming in much faster than he was comfortable with.

"Banshees coming up on us, go full throttle. We don't get to our guys, we're gonna be scrap," Black urged

*Forget the diggers, too many fighters after us.*
"Well, we're almost to the mutant's MLRS unit. Get your guns ready."

All three squadrons of orca fighters reached the MLRS's position. They were were practically invisible; well disguised among the remains of Nod's former base.

*All fighters, engage!* commanded green leader.

They turned on a dime, and spat streams of .50 cal bullets from their miniguns


Jadems / Team Black

Ordo made his way to the top of the cooling tower. In his mind, he was excited, but his body was shaking with fear. If it didn't work - if he blew it too soon or too late - his death would be wasted, and dishonor his divine purpose. Not even a few minutes passed, and he saw his moment. The Orca fighters were in full retreat, headed towards the enemy rockets. He was no tactician; barely a recruit from the Hand of Nod - but this looked like an opportunity if ever there was one.

He took out the detonator, and flipped off the safety. he gripped the switch with both hands, and pressed very slightly on the button, just to get the feel. His heart was racing with adrenaline, and was shaking with excitement. In the distance, rockets began to launch at his fellow Banshees - it was now or never!

He pressed down on the button with all of his strength. Nothing. He began to tap it furiously tappatappatappatappa, and only a few seconds later, a great flash came up from the ground, in every direction. He only had a fraction of a second to take it in before the force knocked him off his feet, and through the air, all the way to the ground. Before landing in a broken heap, he reveled in his final thoughts, that he had died carrying out the divine will of Kane.


Team Black

in a single instant, all the ground beneath them all burst into flame. The smoldering base had lit up with clouds of smoke, fire, and debris. It must have been rigged all along, and without doubt the explosion killed everything nearby.

"Oh sh&% we have a problem", Black's heart sank. In a moment, the odds had turned drastically: no surface to air support. Orca fighters, fighting alone, against Banshees?

*!%@$&,* the rest of the pilots also responded.

It was too late to flee, and the Banshees and Orcas clashed. Many from both sides took hits, and fell to the ruins below.

*Break off the attack, and retreat back to the base!* Blue Leader pleaded

"Roger that, let's get the hell outta here!" Black agreed, "Use the smoke to mask your escape, stay low to the ground"
The remaining orca fighters desperately made for the mutant base at full speed. The Banshees took chase, picking off many of them.

*I'm hit-*

*They're all over me! ahhhh-*********

The group started as twenty fighters, now they were less than nine left.

*Pilots, this is GDSS Monitor, on your frequency* came a voice on the com. Black was greatly surprised, but responded immediately, "This is Black leader, we are being pursued by swarms of enemy fighters, we need assistance, ASAP!"

*Roger that, pilot. Check the waypoint on your GPS and group up there, we'll cover you, over.*

"Redirecting course-" Black did a quick barrel roll "-over and out!"


Commander Anderson sat on the bridge, watching a display of the events unfolding. As soon as they arrived, they had detectd a sizeable explosion from the southeast grid, and found a furious dogfight between GDI and Nod fighters. General Davidson told the dropships to break off formation and deploy their cargo, while the Monitor move into the fight, to even the odds.

Davidson watched out the window, at the open sky. It appeared empty, at least for the time being. He glanced at the radar, and then out the window again, and pointed his binoculars to where the action should be.  

“How long?” Davidson demanded, still scanning his skies.

“Two minutes.” replied Anderson. Then to his gunners, he said "Warm up the autocannons. It’s about time we took them out for a spin.”


The GPS indicated that they were approaching the base - Black looked off into the distance. The Monitor was not yet in sight, but on the ground were a few dropships, vehicles, and... a GDI Construction yard! an encouraging sight, indeed.

Please have SAM, Black prayed. There were four banshees closing in on his 6 o'clock, firing in bursts until they could get in range enough to lock onto him.

Black was covered in sweat, heart pounding. Hands were frozen in a death-grip on the controls.

They flew over the GDI base, which fired off a few rockets at the incoming banshees, but there wasn't yet much in terms of defenses. "Crap!", as he still saw a mass of red on his scope.

"Monitor sighted, two O'Clock High", someone said.

"Monitor in sight. Keep on pressing, we're going to fly right under it so they can give us cover." the Orca fighters screamed on, at maximum throttle.


Captain Mithel Connors peered out the tinted window of his banshee. He'd already scored three kills today, and about to get a few more. Ahead of him in the distance, he began to see the great floating hulk of a GDI starship. He sneered at the sight. It made little difference to him how big they made their ships. All would fall before him and his squadron, before the might of Nod, before the might of Kane.

So certain was Connors in his divine purpose and the engineering of the craft gifted to him by the grace of his supreme leader, that it never occurred to him that the explosion engulfing his left wingman had resulted in her death.

So certain was Connors that the screams coming over the radio registered as nothing more than heretical lies propagated by GDI’s propaganda machine.

The twenty millimeter rounds shredded his cockpit in bright and colorful array, and tore his aircarft asunder. In the final seconds of his life, the daylight revealed his body to be riddled with bloody holes, and only then did he acknowledge that something had gone wrong. Each of the shells then detonated, and he joined his wingmen in their fiery death plummet to the earth.


"Thank God!" Black let out a very, very, deep sigh of relief.
"Round up, pilots. Time to call it a day" Black said to the six pilots left. Where this base came from, he wasn't sure - but one thing he was sure of, if it hadn't been there, he wouldn't be alive right now.

The new base was located just above the mutant cave, but far enough away so as not to draw unncecessary attention to it.
The Radar Tower directed the orcas to land on some newly built helipads above ground, thankfully, instead of the mutant's barn-hangar. Black landed his plane, opened the cockpit, and staggered out, shaking. He was greeted warmly by fellow GDI ground crew, especially relieved to not have to put up with the ill-tempered mutants again.

A stretcher was brought to him, "No guys, I-I'm good thanks," as he staggered forward. They herded him and the other pilots onto a medical van, and rushed off to the medical facility.


Spartan Commander

The Monitor set down with the rest of the Orcas, and began to unload some of its provisions. Davidson, anxious to get information on the enemies, decided to start with the orca pilots. Their aircraft had returned in bad shape, but to their credit they had been trading blows with banshees, after all.
Lucky bastards the general muttered under his breath, as he entered the base’s freshly minted field hospital. A question and a quick salute later Davidson found their flight commander. He picked up the man’s name before he even spoke, spotting the velcro patch on his tattered flight suit.

It was less a conversation than a somewhat non-standard debrief. Davidson opened with the usual crack about flyboys, before having the pilot tell him in detail what had transpired thus far to bloody the snow covered Norwegian landscape. As Black retold the events that he’d had the fortune of living through, Davidson stood and listened. His face betrayed no emotion, though a long shadow seemed to draw across it. Finally as he finished Davidson gave Black a pat on the shoulder and with that proud smile specific to officers.
"Thanks, sir, but I just did what any of my pilots would've done. I'm just a little shaken up, is all"
Davidson commended him, and instructed him to take some well-deserved rest, assuring him that now that they were here, the worst had passed.

Davidson gave himself little time to judge whether Black believed what he had said any more than he did, he had an AO to take control of. Walking out the hospital tents Davidson tapped on his small earpiece headset.

“Anderson, scramble our dropships and scrounge up an escort, then send them to these coordinates,” Davidson punched in the numbers given to him by Black onto his wrist mounted PDA. “That's the best entrance to the mutant's cave. We're going to start relocating our forces from there to here.”
After a moment of thought he added, “And get whatever intel you can from the mutants.”


Team Black

Slavik appeared on Oxanna's main screen. "Greetings, Commander Oxanna. I have pleasant news - CABAL has been resurrected, and will be online in a few moments to assist you in your mission."

"Very pleasant news indeed. It will be a great help to us. May you be blessed by Kane, for your great leadership."

"Kane lives in death."
With that, the screen blanked again. A few minutes later, the image of CABAL appeared on the main screen.

"CABAL....ONLINE." he said. "UPDATING DATABASE... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...COMPLETE"

"How do you assess the situation, Cabal?" Oxanna asked.

"THE PLAN HAS MANY FLAWS." Cabal said, plainly.

"What kind of flaws?" Oxanna asked, somewhat disappointed.


Oxanna hit the sidearm of her chair, "What is the best plan of action then? Should we attack this new base, before it is well established?"




"I agree. Assemble our task force. we will make our attack as soon as the fleet arrives."


Brigadier General Anderson sat in the bridge of the Monitor, coordinating progress
"We've successfully relocated all the GDI forces from the Mutant base into this one, the mutants were pretty happy to get them out of their hair," reported Anderson to Davidson.
"That's good to hear. Be sure thier needs are tended to, and find out what the hell is going on with Hammerfest. Thanks again". Davidson cut the transmission before Anderson could respond, and opened a new one with the construction yard operator.
"The Base construction is going smoothly sir." said the con yard operator. "Great." replied Davidson, "How does our perimeter look?" "Well, we've just finished surrounding the base with component towers, gates, light towers, and concrete walls." answered the con yard operator
"That's good news. Finish securing the area, then we'll send out patrols" said Davidson. "also tell the forward base to set bunkers, sandbags and sensor arrays, oh and we also need sensor arrays." said Davidson.
"Yes Sir. I-"
"Thanks again", Davidson cut him off, and opened another transmission, "What is it, Anderson?"
"Well I figured out what our guys were doing at the mutant base. Apparently-"
"one sec," Davidson interrupted, "incoming transmission"
"This is Sergeant Ward, my squad's all set to go to Hammerfest-"
"you're clear to go, report anything irregular. Over and out"
"Well, I've already encountered-"
"Thanks again", Davidson closed the transmission, and opened a new one,"Anderson, what's up?"
"Well the guys we brought in from the mutant base have confirmed our suspicions"
The Fall of Hammerfest - Epic Tiberian chain story

Tiberian Odyssey mapping department. Discord
The Team Black Index

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Team Black
Defense Minister

Joined: 25 Sep 2006
Location: Teamblackistan Posts: Over 9000

PostPosted: Mon Dec 14, 2015 9:55 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote  Mark this post and the followings unread

Chapter 5


"All right, let's move out!" The lead Hover MLRS pilot yelled back to the convoy, before tucking himself safely inside his machine. "Hammerfest 2A" was the name of this new outpost, being set up quickly and efficiently. This General Davidson appeared to be on-point, knowing exactly how he wanted things done, and the know-how to make it happen. The newly refreshed GDI forces were more than eager to leave the mutants behind, and get back with their own kind.

This convoy was a combat patrol, headed for Hammerfest base, to do some recon, check for survivors, and try once again to establish some kind of contact with the main base. In addition to all that, Sergeant Ward absolutely needed to reconnect with his squad. Lieutenant Abernathy was giving him more than enough of a reason to get them out from the cold. Based on Corporal McGaven's report, he could get Abernathy in serious trouble for endangering his squad to such freezing temperatures.
At Sergeant Ward's request, the APC broke off from the convoy and hurried out towards Bunker Foxtrot.

"Where did you say your squad was!" The APC driver inquired.
"Uh, just head east after you pass that hill, hopefully the tanks are still smoldering."
"Tanks, huh," Lance Corporal Ramsden, the new squad medic, muttered. He did a quick glance at her, and turned back to the monitor the APC driver was fixated on. He couldn't discern what he was really looking at for the most part, but the driver seemed to understand everything he was reading. He sat back, and closed his eyes - remembering a simpler time.


Corporal McGaven and his squadmates were sitting in a foxhole they dug near some trees; he wasn't about to lead his troops any further in the snow. He was in no mood to deal with Nod snipers - not that he would have ever been in the mood to deal with such cowardly war tactics in the first place. He hated snipers, even friendly ones. Let war be up-close and personal, one man to another.

Lt. Abernathy was obviously using him and his squad as bait to lure out Nod soldiers, but this was the limit: he simply couldn't force his brothers any further. One of his squadmates was even beginning to succumb to hypothermia, and possibly frostbite if Ward didn't get that APC to his position soon enough.
"How ya holdin' up?" McGaven asked hollowly, caught up in his thoughts.
"Uh, I'm, eh, f-f-fine," He said quickly as he took a deep breath. His third squadmate was on the edge of the hole with his head careful hidden under a dug up root, scouring the surrounding area for Abernathy - but mostly for Nod. He noticed something unnatural about the snow, the snow seemed to shivering as if there was a wind current shifting the snow towards Foxtrot. He hadn't seen anything like it before, and he was mesmerized by the strange phenomenon. He even smiled at the foreboding omen, until he realized just what it was.
"Damn! Nods making another move on our bunker, with cloaked vehicles!" He cried out. McGaven rushed up next to his friend and pulled out the binoculars. He groaned at the sight of the lumbering phantoms, steadily creeping up on Abernathy's garrison in Foxtrot. They were completely oblivious to it, two platoons of soldiers and not a single one of them was keeping an eye on their territory.
"They deserve it," He censured. In reality, he didn't wish for such a thing to happen to anyone, but there was nothing he could do to help the garrison. He continued to watch as the vehicle decloaked and rained missiles on the bunker, his former home-turned-coffin. The bunker was annihilated in less than a minute. McGaven wasn't even sure any of the soldiers even saw them when they decloaked, a pitiful battle if there ever was one. He picked up his damaged radio.
"Sarge, ya readin' me?" He whispered into the radio, unsure why he was even doing so.
"Yea, what's goin' on?"
"You guys might wanna be a little quiet gettin' to us, some stealth tanks just destroyed foxtrot." The radio was quiet, Sergeant Ward was probably telling the APC pilot the new situation.
"All right, we'll need to switch to radio silence, I'll be there in a minute," He responded. McGaven switched off his radio, and threw it out in the snow.


Sergeant Ward hopped out of the APC and crept up to McGaven's hiding spot. McGaven was so occupied looking for the stealth tank, he didn't even notice his squad leader was above him. He picked up a rock and dropped it on his helmet, getting a rather quick reaction by McGaven who swooped his assault rifle.
"So, we're ready to get you guys out of here," Ward said as he was staring down the barrel of the assault rifle.
"Good Lord! Finally! I think he's got frostbite," McGaven said as helped the shivering soldier to his feet. Upon hearing this, Lance Corporal Ramsden hurried up beside Ward to see for herself. This got a puzzled look on McGaven's face.
"Oh yea, real quick, Corporal McGaven," He said as he helped the frostbitten soldier out of the hole, "meet Lance Corporal Ramsden."
"Pleased to meet ya," He winked. She completely ignored him and hauled the soldier to the APC with the help of Ward. Ward paused, and looked one more time at the burning bunker Foxtrot, wondering if there were any survivors.

"Stealth tank musta left, but he could be anywhere", McGaven mentioned, echoing what Sergeant Ward was thinking. Sergeant Ward shook his head, still staring at the bunker, "If there's anyone left out here, it would take way too long to do any good."
"By that time, we'd probably end up a smoldering wreck too", commented the APC driver, not hiding the fact that he wanted to get out of there, ASAP.
"Damn", Ward gave a light punch to the side of the APC, before getting back inside. "Alright, let's move out. Let's honor them by kicking Nod's ass. Lord knows we'll get our chance."
They climbed in and hauled ass to meet back up with the column, while the APC driver was relaying their story back to headquarters. McGaven laid his back against the seat in the APC, and went to sleep. Ward was beginning to admire the insolent jackass: he managed to get his squad through alive. He leaned forward and watched as Ramsden checked over the cold soldier for frostbite, then proceeded to pray for he knew that they were going straight into the jaws of hell.


Team Black

Several hours later, though the mass relocation was still in progress, Davidson had finally gathered up all the senior officers for a meeting in the Monitor's conference room. It was easy o distinguish his people, clean and fresh, and well-rested, with the dirty, somewhat disheveled, some wounded, and all sleep-deprived officers which they had gathered up from the mutant cave.

General Davidson stood up next to the screen, which showed maps, and pictures of pertinent data.
"Based on information from the guys in the mutant base, we've confirmed Nod's presence in the area. It's no question that Hammerfest is their target, and we have confirmed reports that somehow Nod has control over their firestorm defense.
In addition, we know any electronic means of communicating with them simply won't work. Whatever Nod's jamming us with, it's doing one hell of a job. This morning they said they could get a few miles out of our radios, and better at high altitudes, but our latest test reported all radio communications ineffective outside one mile.
"Have we resorted to smoke signals yet, sir?" one officer said
Recognizing the joke, Davidson gave a half smile,
"I'm not going to say that option isn't on the table. I've decided we're going to still maintain a posture of secrecy. A fleet of dropships and a starship aren't easy to hide, so our window is closing pretty rapidly. They know we're here, but don't know what we're up to. We-"
Davidson was interrupted by a warning sound on the screen, and a radar technician showed up.
"Sir, we have activity, something big developing!"
The entire room looked as the map immediately lit up with red.


The sensors in Hammerfest had picked it up as well.

"Radar spike sir!" came a voice, in McNeil's communicator, from the radar facility. Mcneil snapped to attention, "What's up?"
"Enemy forces, all over the place!
"Mobile sensors report subterranean vehicles, hordes of em! coming right for us!"
"Fire up the EMP, don't let em in here. Set condition red, I want everything we have up and ready to fight! EVA, give me full battlefield control!" he rolled his chair over to the command monitor and turned it on:
"aw come ON, BOOT!" he yelled, as if it would really do any help,
McNeil's screen blinked to life and showed a wild mass of Nod troops and vehicles descending on his unprepared defenses.
"We can't handle that much sh&%. EVA, tell Philadelphia we need reinforcements, now!"
"I am unable to make contact with the Philadelphia, on any frequency", replied EVA
"I know, do it anyways! where's the closest GDI base here, can we get anything from them!?"
"I am unable to make contact with any outside base, on any frequency", replied EVA
"You've got to be shi%%ing me! Why hasn't this been fixed yet??"
"I am unfamiliar with this type of communication disruption. No solution has yet been found."
McNeil realized his mistake. He'd gotten too comfortable. It was no secret that Hammerfest communications weren't working, but he allowed himself to ignore it, thinking it would just get fixed and go away.
"well that's bullsh--t, McNeil scowled in disgust. "Get my fastest planes out there! Get out of their jamming range, we've got to get some word out."

McNeil used the console to set up what forces he could. Commanding was made simple with this method, just point-and-click; EVA and GPS did the rest.
Two GDI security troopers entered the room, responding to Condition Red, "Awaiting orders, Sir!". McNeil nodded at them, then turned back to his monitor.

The perimeter EMP cannon charged up and fired...but not towards the subterranean vehicles, rather, but at Hammerfest's airfield!
He watched in horror as his entire flight line turned dark, with the parked aircraft emitting blue sparks.
Fortunate enough, it didn't catch the flight of four orca fighters that he'd just scrambled. Hopefully they would be able to relay his distress call before he was completely overrun.
He began to sweat, remembering the firestorm malfunctions that they'd been having. Were they truly just malfunctions?
God, he hoped not.

"Well, damn"
His suspicions proved correct as all four orcas flashed brightly orange into the firestorm, as it roared to life. His heart sank.
On the radar screen, red dots rolled uninhibited past where the perimeter bunkers should have been.

"WHAT THE HELL IS THIS!", McNeil shouted in desperation,
"Perimeter defenses. GONE!", McNeil pointed an exasperated hand at his control display. The two troopers stood awkwardly, not knowing how to respond.

All units converge, defend this base at all costs!" Despite being attacked unawares, and without an airfield, or outer perimeter, Hammerfest was strongly built, and well-fortified, being a place of strategic importance as it was.
His units fell back from the outer perimeter, which was being quickly disemboweled, and formed up around the Command & Control buildings as a final defense. He put his hard-hitters out front: disruptors and titans, supported by hover MLRS in the rear. His troops equipped with rockets and disc grenades were dug into trenches, and firing from the hardened command structures, effectively giving the Nod armor a run for their money.
This halted the Nod advance. He let out a sigh of relief as enemies began to fall around the entrenched battle line.







The radar flashed, revealing the source of the missiles. They were shooting from underneath the water, off the coast - ballistic submarines! They had just launched a mass of cruise missiles straight at the base.
The Firestorm could stop these no problem, so long as it didn't "Malfunction". Expecting the worst, he activated the Firestorm and it glowed bright blue, relieved to find that he was still able.
Then the firewall shut off. McNeil went to turn it back on.


He stood up, and kicked his chair. "I'm the only one who can do that! Eva, give me firestorm control. NOW!


McNeil watched helplessly as every last one of the incoming cruise missiles glided unharmed over the unresponsive firestorm. One by one, they careened into critical portions of the base defenses.

Then, as if the missiles were not enough, subterranean vehicles then surfaced - he had practically forgotten about them! Devil's Tongue flame tanks, and APCs, which unleashed hordes of cyborgs, killing all in their path.
"We got incoming banshee swarms!", someone reported
"I'm taking heavy fire! Medic!"
"We're surrounded, there's nowhere to run!"
"Alright, EVA, put the command center on full lockdown." McNeil announced, furiously. He strapped on some armor, and loaded up his railgun. Nod might have the upper hand, but he's not going down without a fight.


Nod Strike / Team Black

Petty Officer First Class John Dutton sat alone in the command center intel room, staring at his monitor, frozen in his thoughts.
The explosions outside were becoming louder, and more forceful. Any time now, the building could come crashing down, and that would be it.
I'm too young to die!
A Non-Commissioned Officer in the GDI Navy, but he was what, not even into his twenties. Convinced that he was about to die, he let his thoughts drift off to reflect on his life. His family. Dear God his family. A tear dripped down the side of John’s face. Nod had gotten his parents, and now they were back to finish the job. So caught up was he in his thoughts, he didn't notice General McNeil and his two-man security detail enter the room.


John ignored McNeil calling his name. He just wanted it to be over. Maybe he’d get to see his parents on the other side. Not as they were when he last saw them, in agony, mutated beyond all recognition, but as he remembered them, smiling and happy.

“Goddammit. Dutton!”

Two hands grabbed a hold of John by the shoulders and shook him fiercely.

“Dammit Dutton I need my men awake! Do you understand me?!”

Wide eyed John nodded dumbly at his commanding officer.

“Good,” said McNeil, letting go of John. “Now get to finding that intrusion into our systems. I want contr—”

A deafening explosion interrupted McNeil. McNeil managed to steady himself. John's head slammed against the console, making him almost fall out of his chair. He grabbed his head and felt some blood.

“It’s just a small cut. Get to work.”

“Yes sir,” John replied mechanically. He felt completely drained. The thought of disobeying the order crossed his mind, but what then? There was nowhere else to go, and nothing else to do, than what he did best, here on the computer. If nothing else, he would do it to honor his family.

Explosions continued to rock the base as John hacked his way through the network. His hands zipped across the keyboard inputting commands alien to most human beings. There. He found it. Except, he didn’t. John frowned. That’s strange. There was no intrusion. The base systems had been hijacked, but it had been done by someone with command codes.

But no one has access to manual override codes to those systems except… John froze in his seat. Commander McNeil. John turned his eyes, trying to get a glimpse at the man standing behind him. Did he do this? Was he a Nod sympathizer? What was he supposed to do? Did he tell him he didn’t find anything? Did he tell him and hope he didn’t slit it throat? What—

“What did you find?”

John nearly jumped out of his skin hearing McNeil speak.


“We don’t have time for this.” McNeil pushed John to the side and looked at the monitor. He gave a surprised look, and pointed at the monitor.
“This is my console code. And this grid. Petty Officer, is this accurate?”

John felt a sudden shock; he hadn't expected McNeil to understand what he was seeing.
“Y-yes sir.”

“Son of a bitch.”

McNeil stood back up, and crossed his arms, looked down, thinking. John sat there frozen, no idea what to expect.

“Dutton, what's the status of our SEAL team?”

“Uhm, I’d have to check but…”

“Do it.”

McNeil stepped away from the computer, letting John roll back and begin zipping his hands across the keyboard once more. He cycled through the images carnage outside, visible on the monitors he muttered another, “Goddammit.”
The screen showed the SEALs in the barracks, caught up in an intense firefight with whatever was outside.

The Commander let out a lengthy, tired sigh, then looked level at Dutton.

"Alright John, you're the best computer engineer I've got; and right now, you're only one I've got. You've got to get to the source of that signal. That grid marks it right out to the coast, which means Nod must have their Navy parked up there. The SEALs can get you there, they're the best of the best. If we can get our Firestorm back, we might just be able to save Hammerfest. At least until some reinforcements can come."
Dutton glanced back at the monitor and went pale, looking at the furious battle outside, with bombs and bullets flying every which way. This was too much.
"Respectfully, s-sir, I can't go out in that. I wouldn't survive two minutes out there."
Fully expecting a serious reprimand, or court-martial, John prepared for the worst. But, any punishment McNeil could dish out was preferable to the certain death he would face trying to run all the way to the barracks, on foot, in that mess.

McNeil let out a sigh. "John, I'm not ordering you to do this. I'm asking you. I tell you what. You know that old tunnel system Hammerfest used to have?"
Dutton looked up, and shook his head.
"Well we used to have a tunnel system which connected all our major buildings, to use in case of CBRNE attacks. It's been closed down since the first Tiberium war, after it got contaminated with Tiberium. If you put on an environment suit, it'll protect you for as long as you need it for."
John looked down, shaking, fighting tears, obviously distressed. "I-I can't-"
"I've seen that look a thousand times, sailor.", McNeil said, with some grit, "We're all scared. I'm scared. Those MP's, they're scared too",
he nodded at his two-man security detail, who shifted awkwardly. "It's what you do right now, that makes a difference."
John looked back at McNeil, wiped some snot with his sleeve, picked up his helmet and put it on, wincing from the bruise from when he hit his head.
"I'll do it, sir. Where's the suit?"
McNeil smiled encouragingly, picked up his railgun and slung it over his shoulder. "Right this way, sailor. Let's move!"


Team Black

General Davidson slammed his fist on the table at this turn of events.
"How long until our ground force is good to go?" he growled to a technician on the screen
"twelve more hours, sir."
Anderson chimed in, "Even if we attacked with everything we had right now, it wouldn't make a difference."
"ARRRGH, that won't do!", he said, mostly to himself. His senior staff were still in the conference room of the Monitor watching the events unfold.
Davidson rubbed his chin, thinking for just a moment,
"Well we have an air force, don't we? Let's hit the Nod Navy. It's the only target that's not an absolute clusterf--k right now. Anderson!"
"Prep the Monitor for full combat, we're going to join our planes to hit Nod's Navy!"
"Sir, I'd have to advise against that - this ship is essential to our operation, and we have no idea of what kind of-"
"I understand that. However, we've only got one chance to blow our element of surprise, I want go in with everything we've got."
"Will do, sir!", Anderson bit his lip.


Nod Strike, Team Black

John crouched down, careful so as not to hit his head against the stalactite-like Tiberium crystal formations. His mission was to locate and link up with the GDI SEAL team. The only way to them, that wouldn’t have left John as a bloodied slice of Swiss cheese, was through these old, nightmarish service tunnels overrun by Tiberium crystals.

John could only hear his heavy breath through the environment suit's respirator. He wasn’t used to field work. What was he even doing here? His proficiency for computer science was the reason GDI had even bothered to take him seriously at all. He was clearly out of his element, trying to work his way through this maze.

John stopped at an intersection, trying to think back to the blueprints of the network of service tunnels he had looked over before leaving the command center. He took lengthy, shallow breaths, to try and breathe in as little airborne tiberium as possible. As he stood there, trying to recall which way he was supposed to turn he heard something like footsteps approaching from the distance.

John immediately reached for his sidearm. He couldn’t tell from which direction it was coming from. The footsteps bounced all along the walls, and John couldn’t make out which were the echoes and which were not.

Then from the far end of the corridor came what appeared to be a man! Half his body was covered in green Tiberium crystals. The man’s face - if it could still be called man - contorted with pure rage and it howled at John. He raised his sidearm, trying to control his shaking.
“Stay back! Stay back or I’ll shoot dammit!”

The rabid mutant shouted something back at him, but John didn’t make out any of it. All he could hear was the blood rushing through his ears.

“Stop! Stop!”

John pulled the trigger to shoot, but not before accidentally pressing the magazine release. The one round loaded in the weapon’s firing chamber shot wide, embedding itself into the concrete walls as the pistol’s fully loaded magazine dropped to the floor. John watched it drop to the floor in disbelief. Two more mutants ran into view.

Go left!. John decided. The blueprints said left. John took off running, empty pistol in hand. Behind him continued the rage-filled screeches of the mutants that drew closer with every passing second.

Shit, shit, shit.

John turned a corner and threw open the giant bulkhead door, which had been labeled from the outside with various Tiberium Exposure warnings. He gave a look back at the mutants chasing him, not realizing at first, the cyborg directly in front of him! It turned towards John, starting to spin up its minigun. He slipped and lost his footing on a piece of debris, and fell flat on his ass.

The three creatures rounded the corner as John did. They however didn’t make it as far as he. The cyborg, seeing them as the greater threat, unloaded into them, shredding each one into gooey green crystal bits. Both it and John were showered in the tiberium-laden gore.

John stared back at the pulp like remains of the three unfortunate mutants, breathing heavily, and briefly looked over his environment suit for damage. Never once did he think he would be thankful to see a cyborg. Then the reality of his situation sunk in. There was a cyborg there. A Nod cyborg.


From a short distance away, rang out three loud bangs, and an organic pop. John looked up to see the cyborg’s electronics dim and its minigun mounted arm fall to its side. John just barely managed to jump out of the way before it collapsed onto the ground.

“Oi! Ye ok there mate?” inquired a voice with a cockney accent. A man in a roughed-up looking combat suit walked up to John and shook his shoulder. “Ye ok?”

John pointed to all the carnage around him, stammering something incomprehensible.

“Let’s get ye up on yer feet.” Grabbing John by the arms the man helped him up. “Nice suit ye got thear. Ye got a name?”

“Dutton,” said John. “John Dutton.”

“Well nice to meet ye John. Me name’s Martyn. Yer safe now. Yer with SEALs.”
The Fall of Hammerfest - Epic Tiberian chain story

Tiberian Odyssey mapping department. Discord
The Team Black Index

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Team Black
Defense Minister

Joined: 25 Sep 2006
Location: Teamblackistan Posts: Over 9000

PostPosted: Mon Feb 08, 2016 9:15 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote  Mark this post and the followings unread

Chapter 6

Team Black

In the newly constructed pilot barracks, Tom Black sat back in a folding chair, boots propped on a wooden ammo crate. In one hand, a touchpad which contained debriefs from his other pilots, in the other hand, a warm cup of coffee in a tin canteen cup. The other pilots present were either doing the same, or chatting it up, preparing their stuff for the next mission. It was a mixed group of pilots, both local and transient, and after losing the only senior pilots they had, Captain Black had now been put in charge of them all.
He only knew a few of them personally; it appeared they were all well-experienced and capable, by the look of their records, and conversations he'd had with them. Unfortunalely, the rookie pilots had all been lost to either the firestorm, or the last asault against the banshees.

"Incoming report" EVA announced into Black's earpiece.
General Davidson's voice followed:
"Attention all aircrews, Hammerfest base is overrun by Nod forces, including an entire Nod navy off the coast. All pilots scramble to attack the Nod fleet, ASAP. EVA will fill you in on the rest."

A moment of pause, as each of the pilots looked at each other, and then immediately sprung into action.
"Alright team, let's do this!", Black whipped out of the chair he was sitting, guzzled the last of his coffee, and jumped into his flight gear. He tossed the empty canteen cup onto his cot, and rushed to the helipads with the other pilots.

"Captain Black", EVA said into his headset, "You will lead the bomber quadron, which will assist the Monitor by drawing fire. Red and Gold squadrons will do the same. Blue and Green Fighter Squadrons will provide fighter escort. Carryalls will be standing by..."
EVA continued with the briefing, listing off smaller details. They just love putting me in Black Flight, don't they.
Finally, Black made it to his bomber, freshly built. It already had his name on it! He exchanged salutes with the crew chief, and hopped on board.
After he did his checks, he called up the tower,
"Black One, Flight of four, with the numbers, ready for takeoff, North Helipads"
"Black One, Two-Alpha Tower, number two for departure. Caution wake turbulence, Monitor One Super taking off South of the field"
He watched with a certain awe as the massive Orca 3A Monitor slowly lifted off the ground, while its engines warmed up.
The ground shook as it took off vertically, higher and higher into the air.

*Black One, North Helipads, Wind two-three-zero at five, cleared for takeoff. Caution wake turbulence, Monitor One Super departing. Give em hell, pilots!* came the tower.
Blackster fired up his engines and departed, forming a flying V with his squad, and then positioned themselves front of the gargantuan Monitor. Gold squadron bombers at ten o'clock, reds at two o'clock, and fighters covering twelve, three, six, and nine.

*Attention all pilots, this is Monitor One. The Nod Navy is one-zero minutes to fly. Stay in tight formation, we've got to hit them hard and fast, if we want to do anything to help Hammerfest. If we hit them hard enough, it'll make life a hell of a lot easier for our boys at Hammerfest, fighting for their lives. Let's send every last one of those boats to the bottom!*

*Roger that*, acknowledged some of the pilots, they all realized the urgency of the situation.

The squadron was tight in formation as it roared across the barren, icy landscape. Off North to three O'Clock, the pilots could spot the rising smoke from Hammerfest. They wouldn't be able to directly assist it though, not with Nod at the Firestorm controls. They could hit the navy hard enough though, it would buy them time for Hammerfest 2A's ground force to be fully built & prepared for attack.

Out of the corner of his eye, Black saw some irregularity. He gave a glance at the Monitor and saw what appeared to be a gigantic red and black piece of fabric draped across it, with a hideously large Nod logo on it. That definitely wasn't there a minute ago..

"Monitor, Black One. You flying the right colors there?", Black said in an amused tone, hiding his confusion.
*Black One, What do you mean? is there something wrong- *, the radio paused, probably to order a check on their ship, "oh I see. How the hell did THAT get there?"
"You got me, the sky's been clear as day. No idea where it could've come from. Black One"
"well there's little we can do about it at this point, it'll probably fall off in a minute. If it's still stuck on our hull when we RTB, we'll have a look at it. Monitor One"
As he spoke, it detached itself and flew off, caught in the wind, then drifted to the ground now off in the distance. Very strange indeed.

"All Aircraft, Monitor One, approaching the coast. get your weapons armed.*, ordered the Monitor, *With any luck, we'll get one free pass before they can get their AA equipment online."
"Make it count. Otherwise we might not survive the next pass", replied Gold One.

"Got a visual on the boats, twelve o' clock"
"Hide and seek is over guys, climb to 5,000 feet
The squad ascended together, so they wouldn't be as easily shot at by sea-to-air. They flew out from land into the open ocean, where Nod's fleet were parked;  sitting ducks to GDI's surprise air bombardment.
"Black Flight, Black One, fire at will. They haven't engaged us yet, we got em with their pants down", announced Black. Just before the bombers released their payload, the entire fleet disappeared!
"I lost visual, continue?"
"yeah, just a Nod cloaker out there, they saw us too late. Keep to your targets, people! hit em hard."
Black unloaded his first run of bombs, as did the others. The Monitor spit out a lavish bundle of rockets all over the water, everywhere that a vessel had been before they vanished, surely causing crippling damage to anything they hit. Black raised his eyebrows, glad that all that firepower was on his side.
The ocean burst open as the bombs struck it, shooting water high into the air. The squadron passed over their mark, and began turning to make their second run. There were no smoldering debris, no nothing. Had they even hit anything?
"This is the Monitor, all pilots hold your fire, there's some trickery going on here. We'll have to drop some MSA's on the coast to read up on where this fleet went"
The Monitor turned to beam a laser-type transmission to base. Its powerful antenna, meant for space communication, was barely enough to reach back to Hammerfest 2A, to relay their request through Nod's jamming field. They had prepared for this scenario, so the base had carryalls prepped and ready upon request. The only concern was, as it was a one-way signal, there was no way to confirm that the base got it, until the carryalls would arrive.

"All aircraft, Monitor One. let's have our squad split off into two groups, see what we can find. We have an armored convoy a few klicks East, on its way to Hammerfest. I'm going redirect it here to set up a beachhead against amphibious landings. Black One, take the golds, the Monitor will go with red squadron, and check out the surrounding area for movement. We'll do what we can till the MSA's are in place."

The flight leads all mused their confirmation, and split up. The two groups flew all around the area, no sign of a navy anywhere.

After a short while, three carryalls appeared off in the distance, and found good spots up in the mountains to drop their burdens. After letting them go, they then flew off back to base without hesitation.
The mobile sensor arrays deployed, searching for cloaking fields, and any other effects of Nod trickery.
"All aircraft, Monitor One. Our sensor vehicles are sending us readings", He paused, getting additional information, "There's a big radiation leak coming from under the water, from something heavy and metallic. I'm transmitting the coordinates to your GPS"
"That's irregular.. some new kind of nuclear powered sub, maybe?"
"More likely the sub's armament"
"Black Flight, Monitor One, use your torps. We'll follow up with the Monitor if it happens to survive your run.."
"Roger that, Monitor. All planes, form up", said Black. As he approached the target, he thought he saw a green glow beneath the water.
His radiation readings were off the charts! if there was anyone on that ship, they'd surely all be dead...What was the use?

"Bombs away, Black One.", he let loose the torpedo bombs, as did the rest of his squad.

All they'd really be doing would be destroying would be an already-dead ship. Perhaps it was automated? The only thing they'd really be doing would be blasting its radioactive material all over the place, contaminating the area. How foolish. Unless....

The torps hit the surface, and began towards their target.

Black's heart jumped at the realization. That was no ship at all, it was a bomb!
"pull up, pull up, abandon your run! all aircraft, pull up!", Black shouted. Black wrenched his controls, expecting his squad to follow. A few did, others continued with their run, dropping even more torpedoes into the water.
"This is Black Leader, all fighters break immediately! it's a trap!", he pleaded. On the radio came screeching static from hell. He turned the headset volume down.
Black began to fly away, rocking his wings, hoping to signal his crew to follow suit - Many did, and then some others behind them, as they caught on that they were being jammed.
The object surfaced, glowing brighter than Black could believe. It looked ship-sized, but it was difficult to judge through the brightness.

The Monitor held position above the object, spewing out torpedo after torpedo into the water, seemingly oblivious to the other fleeing aircraft. What were they thinking??
Black maxed the throttle, as did the pilots following him.
Suddenly, the ocean behind them erupted. A great bulge rose out of the water, and a pillar of green shot upwards in a mushroom cloud, sending glowing green material high up into earth's atmosphere, and into any aircraft in its immediate range. Like millions of white-hot bullets, they pierced through metal like a knife through butter, certainly killing anyone it came in contact with. The Monitor's armor resisted, taking a great deal of this deadly shrapnel, but it was far too close to the blast to be able to hold up.

The entire craft was glowing with the debris; it was unlikely anyone onboard could have survived. Its thrusters failed one by one, until it crashed full force into the ocean, braeking apart from the water tension. Its massive ammo stores ignited into an epic fireworks display, which continued on, even after it had been swallowed up by the frigid waters.

Blacks fighter froze up. All of its systems shut off in an instant, and it began to drop towards the ground. He looked at the other planes in his squad, and saw the same thing was happening with them as well.

EMP! The bomb must've sent a wave of it all around. Blast! Flipped on his backup systems, but no response from them either. Only one thing left to do...
Black positioned his body, and grasped the yellow handle at his crotch, and pulled to eject handle. BOOM!! His cockpit flew off the plane. WOOSH!! he felt a hurricane of wind as his chair rocketed high up into the sky. After his chute deployed, the chair went falling down toward the ocean, leaving his survival bag dangling below his feet. He reached up to grab the steering ropes, and pulled all the way down to release them. Looking up, he checked for tangles or tears, thankful there were none. Black then opened his visor and dropped his mask, letting it also fall all the way down into the ocean. Probably a few thousand feet up, with a steady breeze at his back. Thank goodness! At this rate, it should be plenty of enough to get to shore.

He looked around. It was late afternoon, and he could count on a few more hours of sunlight. The snow was picking up, and visibility was noticeably decreasing. Upwards, the sky had an eerie green in it from whatever fallout lingered up there. Whatever that was, he'd have to make sure they all had cover before it all came raining back down.

Some of the chutes behind him didn't appear as if they would be able to reach the shore. "Dress to egress", as the flight instructors used to say. These flight suits could float, and resist the cold, but in those freezing waters, it didn't offer a big window of safety. He would need to get a fire going pronto, to prevent the swimmers from going hypothermic.  This was the time to plan his next move. As the senior officer, he would have to take charge of all these pilots, and get them all back safely.

The Mobile Sensor Arrays would be their best option. Although high in the hills, it wouldn't be impossible to reach them. Plus, the hike would help to keep everyone warm. When HQ comes to pick them up, he'd just have to stick out a thumb and hitch a ride.

Black approached the ground, and saw a pine forest below him. He overshot his landing!
Tree landing now inevitable.
He closed his visor and covered up his vitals, and braced for impact. After getting smacked around by a few branches, the trees very ungracefully snagged on his parachute, dangling him about 25 feet off the ground. He reached down and released his dangling survival bag, which fell down into the snow with a plop.
Not gonna fall from this high. A broken leg, hiking up that mountain would really suck!
There were a few sturdy branches nearby he could probably swing onto. He looked around again. Boy he'd be a nice pinhatta for a Nod patrol about now.
No one else is going to help me out of this. I've got to make it happen.
He began to swing his legs, rocking back and forth. He reached toward the branch... almost... and then the parachute gave, dropping him about another ten feet, before it snagged again. "ERRGH!" Black felt the harness tighten on his crotch. "Oh Goddammit!"
He failed a bit in the air in panic, and then unclipped the chute, falling the rest of the way into a pile of snow. He lay there a few seconds in relief, with a dumb smile, overjoyed that the harness was no longer holding his balls in a vice grip.

He got up slowly, standing to his feet. He climbed the tree to retrieve what was left of the parachute. He yanked and tugged, and after some effort, it fell free. He folded it up, and put it in his survival bag, and slung the bag over his shoulder. He picked up his rifle and unfolded the stock, chambered a round, and began the search for his squadron.
The Fall of Hammerfest - Epic Tiberian chain story

Tiberian Odyssey mapping department. Discord
The Team Black Index

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Team Black
Defense Minister

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Location: Teamblackistan Posts: Over 9000

PostPosted: Thu Feb 11, 2016 3:16 am    Post subject: Reply with quote  Mark this post and the followings unread


Sergeant Ward's column was moving steadily towards the beach, when they felt a sudden quake in the ground. The whole column halted, and everyone that was riding on top of the vehicles dismounted, forming a perimeter, as was the procedure, and began to look around for signs of trouble. One soldier towards the front pointed silently at the sky, naturally everyone looked as well. What they saw in the distancewas surely Armageddon, as glowing green stars flew high into the sky.

Everyone was speechless, with awe, as well as fear. McGaven spoke up, saying out loud what everyone was thinking,
"Uh, Sergeant, is that where Command just told us to go?"
Ward looked back him, nodded once. "would you rather go to Hammerfest?"
They had all recieved reports of the recent blitzkreig on Hammerfest. This convoy was moderately armed, but by no means enough to make a difference in all that mess.
"Didn't know I had a choice"
"You don't. Just-"
"MOPP GEAR! MOPP GEAR!", shouted the lead vehicle over the radio, "Get in the vehicles, now!!"
The ground troops ran and stuffed themselves into the closest vehicle and put on gas masks, as Tiberium-encrusted metal bagan to rain down from the sky.
"Well ain't that something!", Ward exclaimed, after everyone had found a place to sit.
"I think its safe to say Nod was a part of this," Corporal McGaven simply stated.
"Yea, just what hell did they do," Sergeant Ward said, looking out the window, while a piece of the tiberium fell on the APC, and uncharacteristically quick-latch itself to the metal.


Nod Strike

“Frien’lies comin’ in,” Martyn announced as he climbed his way up a set of ladders. John followed close behind. His eyes darted around warily, watching for signs of movement as he climbed up the exposed ladder. A hand reached down as John reached the top, an offer of assistance that he took without hesitation. John scurried his way out the manhole-like access way, only stopping to let himself breathe when it was sealed behind him.

“Welcome back, Baker,” the other SEAL greeted Martyn. “How’d the head hunting go?
“Got lucky.” He changed magazines, placing the used one in one of his lower vest pockets. “Popped two of ‘em tinnies before they ever saw me.”

The other SEAL made a slight chuckle. “I’ll add them to the scoreboard. Who’s your friend?”
“Found ‘im in the ol’ service tunnels. McNeil sent ‘im.”
The SEAL gave John a pat on the shoulder. The action startled John who immediately turned his head towards him.
The SEAL smirked and shook his head. “Welcome to the sandbox kid.” He pointed to John’s sidearm. He was still holding onto it, slide locked back. “That’s empty by the way.”

“Where’s the Chief?” Martyn asked, resting the butt of his rifle on the floor.
“By the front.”
“Come on John. Le’s go deliva the message ye came all the way out ‘ere for.”

The inside of the building was a mess. As they walked through it John could see the stress marks of combat all around him. Rubble littered the floor, cracks seeped through the walls. They passed through an open room where John could see two bloody body bags laying on the floor, and next to them, a table with another body on it who was still clinging to life. A woman stood over it with a grim look on her face.

“Chief!” Martyn called out.
A gruff looking SEAL stood near the doorway leading to the outside world. He glanced over his shoulder. Martyn gave the man a two-fingered salute.
“Baker,” replied the other man in a near monotone. “Let me guess,” he said taking a quick look at John. “We’ve got a job to do.”



The GDI column rolled out, with the raining tiberium still on everyone's mind. Once the fallout died down a little, they all tried to the best of their ability to scrape the tiberium off their vehicles. Some of them were so deeply infected that they just continued on, with the highly radioactive crystals jutting off their roof. One APC had to be left behind due to the amount of tiberium on its back axel. It would start easy enough, but it dragged its back - it would fall behind in no time. Fortunately, Sergeant Ward's APC was virtually untouched by the tiberium. He had caked the APC in netting to hold twigs and snow, after hearing of the stealth tanks at Foxtrot, and so the tiberium never was able to take hold onto it. The soldiers from the lame APC were able to get a ride with them, although it was a bit of a tight fit.
"Ya'll got a cigarette on ya?" One of their guests asked.
"You're going to smoke in an APC?" Sergeant Ward sneered.
"No smoking in my APC!" The driver yelled back.
"Aw, c'mon, breathing in a li'l won't kill ya!"
"And not smoking for one day won't kill you," Ward responded. The soldier leaned back, grumbling, and fumbling with his hands. Corporal McGaven sat at the door to the APC, seemingly ready to pounce out at a moments notice. The soldier with hypothermia was recovering quickly in the warmth of the APC, laughing with his squadmate and his fellow GDI brothers from the lame APC. Ward was glad they were getting along, and that the upcoming battle was far from their minds.
"We just got word that Nod is preparing to launch their vehicles to shore, so we're going to hurry our asses over there. Get yourselves ready!" The APC driver stated.
"What’re our orders?" Ward inquired.
"Only to hold them off as long as possible, we should be at our destination in about fifteen minutes. The lead vehicle is already getting a plan together."
"How did the orcas do in the first offensive?" Corporal McGaven hollered to the driver.
"I dunno, command hasn't mentioned anything about them yet!"
"Psh, flyboys, I say they leave the fighting to the real men," One of the guests laughed. Sergeant Ward sat silently and wondering if that pilot, Tom Black, was still all right.


"We're at the beach, move out!" The APC driver demanded. The door unsealed and everyone rushed out to formally greet the Nod advance on their territory. They couldn't believe what they were staring at: into the distance, they could see Nod naval ships sporadically ascending out from under the arctic waters, spread out evenly at sea, forming a solid blockade along the Norwegian arctic border. Nod was keeping a safe distance from the shore and sending out long distance amphibious landing vehicles. The GDI defenders could see what seemed to be scores of these landers encroaching upon their position, nearly upon them.
"You know their first attack will be with subterranean vehicles, it almost always is," McGaven muttered. Sergeant Ward wasn't too sure; this sort of assault is few and far between on Nods part. Everyone’s radios suddenly turned on.
"We need to plant mines on the beach and about a hundred feet span behind us, make sure to leave large enough distances between the fields to give our armor a way through. Don't forget to mark them on the GPS," Someone ordered from the command APC, "Another thing, take the armored panels off the sides of the APCs and put them solidly in the ground in front of the trenches to give you something to take cover behind."
"We'll be prime targets when we have to retreat in those unarmored APCs," A soldier said. Ward didn't take heed to care who it was who said that and didn't dare grace it with an answer. They went to work as fast as possible to prepare for the unwelcome guests.


"C'mon! Lazy sonuvabitches! Put the panels in the dirt, not in the snow!" Corporal McGaven ordered to the squad. Sergeant Ward was busy watching the Nod APC influx, attempting to calculate how many there were and how much time they had until they reached their destination. It wasn't looking good for the pitiful GDI defense they were attempting to form along the frozen beach. To make things worse, the beginnings of a blizzard appeared to be forming from the mountains in the North. Sergeant Ward shuddered and attempted to stop his teeth from bursting from the constant chattering, he couldn't tell if his teeth were acting that way because he was cold or afraid.
"All right! The mines are set up!" A soldier said as he was gasping for air, he and his team were busy running around setting up mines and setting up the fields on GPS.
"I hope they won't be used," Ward muttered, ironically just when he finished that sentence an explosion erupted from behind them. Everyone stopped digging and hopped out of the trench to attempt to see the unfortunate individual that had happened upon the device. Some cautiously crept up to the edge and looked out to see a smoldering flame tank, covered in its own flames due to the erupted fuel tanks.
"Damn, I told you they'd send those subterranean death boxes first," Corporal McGaven recounted.
"Shut it, get back down here," Sergeant Ward commanded as more explosions rocked the earth, Nod was obviously not just sending one flame tank. Corporal McGaven was one of the first to hop down from the edge and quickly picked up the shovel to dig even more when the ground began to shake violently.
"Damn! They're coming up from under us!" Someone cried out. The rest of the men on the ledge attempted to hop down into the trenches, but some poor souls were caught within the grinders of the subterranean flame tanks bursting from the ground. Everyone was frozen in place, wanting to help the soldiers being crushed and consumed by the flame tanks, but no one had the courage to get close to the metal dragons.
"Quick! Get the rocket launchers!" McGaven turned to the ammo cache.
"No! You fire that rocket in their underbelly the shrapnel will hurt us just as much!" Ward jeered, glaring at McGaven for his rash thoughts. He simply went back to staring at the underbelly of the flame tanks that were just sitting on the ledge of the long trench the defenders had dug.
"Why did they--" McGaven's sentence was cut off by a sudden hissing sound.
The flame tank spewed out a stream of fuel and erupted it into a jet of flame onto the snow covered beach. Some of the unignited fuel was dripping down into their trench creating flameable pools, quite a bit of it was even spraying over the soldiers; drenching them with the fire-friendly substance.
"F-ck! Get out! Everyone out of the trenches!" Sergeant Ward roared out as loud as he could. They all rushed out from under the flame tanks just as the jet of flame was calming down and receeding towards the pools of fuel in the trenches. Sergeant Ward turned in time to see several unlucky individuals catch a mere spark on their armor and erupt into an inferno. He had the look of pure horror on his face as he watched the trenches they had worked so hard to dig out were suddenly filled with fire, as if Hell itself was spreading its hands out to greet them.
It looks like Nod got what they wanted: a snow free beach to land their forces on, and even some poor sons. Corporal McGaven went around firing mercy shots into the burning soldiers, which sparked fear into everyone who was watching him do it. Was he doing the right thing? Should they stop him? No one budged.

The GDI defenders watched rigidly, as the subterranean dragons then crept back into the holes that they had come from, to return to Hell.
The Fall of Hammerfest - Epic Tiberian chain story

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PostPosted: Fri Feb 12, 2016 11:29 am    Post subject: Reply with quote  Mark this post and the followings unread

Team Black

Black sat down, by the fire he made rather proud of his little camp. He dug a sort of snow berm around the fire to deter the enemy from seeing it, though it really didn't do a whole lot in terms of protection. It might even help with a rescue attempt, though it was a gamble whether friendlies or enemies would find him first.
Then there was of course, the natural benefit of the fire, which was to deter freezing to death.

He had already found a few pilots, but no real progress could be made until the EMP wore off. They had electronic means of finding their comerades, which would hopefully turn on any moment.  They were bundled up in their parachutes, using them as sleeping bags, while Black took the first watch. He was also wrapped in his parachute like a blanket around his back. It helped a little against the cold, and offered some camouflage in the snow. Every now and then, he had to shake off the gathering snow falling from above. In his hand was a plastic bag filled with coffee from an MRE, his rifle propped on one knee, resting on his shoulder. Every now and then, he practiced drawing it up, and aiming it at different trees. It was a good way to occupy the time; it helped to keep himself attentive and awake, aware of his surroundings, and hopefully it would build a little muscle memory should he need to do it for real.

He decided to try his Friendly Force-Tracker again; a touch-screen pad which attached to his wrist.
"EVA, I need a GPS of the area"
He tapped the screen. To his surprise and relief, it turned on!
It wasn't perfect, but he had a good view of the immediate surrounding area. The devices mainly communicated via satellite, which was useless here, but they also communicated with each other, which would act as signal repeaters for others within range. He saw There were some other gold dots nearby; other pilots, likely. He zoomed out. There was the Mobile Sensor Array only a few miles Southward, but it would be a climb. He zoomed out again. Holy sh--, red dots crawling everywhere! further South, on a beach were a chaotic mess of gold and red dots, and further offshore were larger red dots - Looked like the Nod navy had finally come out of hiding, and was making a landing. That must have been the convoy that the Monitor had redirected toward the beach. As bad as he had it here, he was glad not to be stuck in that mess!

"All pilots, Black One, anybody read me?", he said into his radio. static. He said it again. Waited.
*I read you Blackster, this is Nerf. Glad to you made it! I've rallied five guys, we've made camp by a small river, but none of us have a functional FFT*
"Well, mine works fine. In fact, I think I see your signals, you're just a little ways away from where I am. I'll come to you."
*Roger that. Call me when we get close*

Black woke up the other pilots, and kicked a pile of snow to douse the fire. He rolled up the parachute tightly and stuffed it into the survival bag, slung his survival pack onto his shoulders, picked up his rifle, and made his way to the other encampment with his troop. It was dark, though the white snow was visible enough to travel carefully, without flashlight. Trudging through the knee-deep snow was the biggest difficulty, and it slowed things down a little. Up in the forest canopy, there were pieces of glowing green stuck in the branches. The ground was also littered here and there with the same material: tiberium-encrusted metal?
Likely the fallout from that massive explosion, that fell back down to earth and cooled. No doubt all that crap is going to destroy this forest, give it a year or two. He'd seen many long-term effects of tiberium contamination, and all of it was terrible. Before long, it'll become a garden of blossom trees, bright green mold, and home to all kinds of hideous tiberium life.
As he looked, he saw something else very peculiar - a giant red and black fabric, disheveled and stuck in a bush. He went towards it to get a better look, keeping his assault rifle ready. He found a stick and hit it a few times to get the snow off.
The fabric had many holes in it, likely from the trees, and the tiberium debris, which was caked on it in several places. It was not unlike the one that had caught itself on the Monitor earlier. On the ground was a fairly large sphere made of metal, about a meter in diameter. It was in bad shape, as if it had fallen from a great height, and had spots of tiberium growing within and without. The device looked something like a computer, or a sensor of some kind.

"Any ideas what this is?", Black whispered. It was hard to see in the night, and he didn't want to risk shining a flashlight.
"Some Nod garbage. Parachute, maybe. I wouldn't touch it."
"I agree. Let's take a snapshot for later, maybe intel can tell us."
They each used their arm computer to take a few pictures. They were night-vision shots, but it should be enough to get the message across.
"I'm betting it's a parachute. Probably a supply drop to some bad guys near here"
"EVA, can you analyze this?"
*I do not have proper sensor equipment to analyze this module*
"Ah, well. should we destroy it?"
"Looks pretty beat up already from the fall. Besides, what are you going to do, shoot it, and wake up all the Noddies?"
"What if it's a bomb? like, a parabomb?"
"Nah, couldn't be, just look at it"
They were beginning to get distracted.
"Alright guys, let's keep moving. We'll figure it out later", Black motioned with his head, and started walking.

They made their way to the small river, and spotted the other encampment. He verified the location on his Friendly Force Locator.
"Nerf, Blackster. Four friendlies approaching from the East. Do not fire!", he whispered, as clearly as he could.
"Roger. Holding fire East of our position. Nerf."
They met up with the other encamped pilots, there were ten now instead of five, including himself.
"Good to see you, Nick. Nice camp you got here", Black greeted Captain Nick "Nerf" Transon, who had been Gold Leader during the assault.
They passed information on what they knew of the situation. By now, a few more of their computers had come to life. Black pointed to his, and proposed his plan:
"There's a GDI MSA a couple miles to the South, what we should do is group up there, and make a camp. They'll be able to detect other survivors for us, and hopefully radio HQ for an airlift. Once we're sure we have everybody, we'll get the hell out of here. "
"Sounds good", replied a pilot. Other pilots also mused their agreement.
"Any concerns? Nick?"
"We should get up there as soon as we can. The longer we're out here, the higher our chances of getting frostbite, or being found by a Nod patrol."
"Alright let's pack it up and move out"
With that the troop got up, packed their stuff, and made their way in single file up the hill, to the Mobile Sensor Array.
The Fall of Hammerfest - Epic Tiberian chain story

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