Ryven Razgriz
I need a Gun and I'll let you know 'What's up?'.
- Location
- South East Asia
How carefree~
Another One Into the Frying Pan (PA/multicross SI)
- Thread starter Ramble
- Start date
- Location
- America
But I couldn't do that to my soldiers. That would be unethical!
They need to be able to have some downtime after battles, otherwise they would get all tired and grizzled and traumatized, and I can't have that. Even if there's no actual battles for them to go on.
Also I don't have cryotubes.
Well, there's not really much to care about, so yeah.
Also I added ASOIAF to the list.
Probably not go there myself though. I'll just send one of my cute subordinates.
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TortugaGreen
Constantly out of the loop
- Pronouns
- She/Her
And this is why you don't allow your soldiers to be bored: they inevitably start doing weird stuff, even if they're all generic FPS-player character clones.
- Location
- America
Ttw1
Suffering at NNPTC without discord
- Location
- threads/ex-machina-worm-tinker-au.29497/
That is a very relevant picture.They're grunts.
Here's a relevant terminal lance.
Ttw1
Suffering at NNPTC without discord
- Location
- threads/ex-machina-worm-tinker-au.29497/
43
- Location
- America
Ever since I made the report that I now had a burgeoning population under my direct control that I would probably eventually have to reveal to the rest of the world, President Morgan has been getting ready for basically everything, including the eventual reveal to the world. I advised that it would be best to not try covering things up and when things got to a critical point, to release all the information on their own terms rather than have someone try to blow it all open. To that end, we've decided that it would look a lot better if we attempt to look like we're working together, and possibly actually working together.
President Morgan called in a bit ago with the Joint Chiefs and SecDef and decided to try to hammer out a deal where I would provide training equipment and a training facility and in return, some of my troops would be able train with various units, Green Berets, Rangers, Seals, Delta and the CIA SAD/SOG. The idea is that I would use my resources to provide the kind of state of the art equipment and facilities that only a progenitor commander could provide, including monitoring and other such whatnot. My people would then act as the opfor for various training exercises. In return, my people would not only receive training from those who are using the facility.
Of course, all who would be coming to Los Alamos would have to be screened and cleared, but it was essentially going to be a small number of persons who are usually trusted with such information anyway, so that's not much of a problem.
Luckily, I've managed to get everybody on the bottle now. It wouldn't exactly do to get caught with my shirt off would it? No sir.
-------------------------
With Los Alamos serving a much bigger role now, the airport is upgraded to serve larger and larger aircraft as well. The field of radiation that was hiding my activities from the rest of the world needed to be pushed around slightly to accommodate the new training facility and everything that the army would need, but it got done. Adam and Eve were also extremely grateful for the much needed activity and basically ramped up everything with the Barracks pumping out batches of Waifus and toy soldiers at record speeds, both the townsite and the white rock suburb are filling up with people.
Along with the activity was also the first operators to oversee exactly what we would need. Three friendly looking guys whom I received dossiers for which proclaimed that they were CIA SOG and had numerous missions under their belt, dealing with various warlords in central and south america. Almost all of those missions are classified and the Dossiers for those more resemble barcodes than actual documents. The only actually visible content were three pictures, one for each of them, names, the aliases that they would be using, and ranks.
Alright, that's fine. I can work with that.
They were nice guys, and they took a liking to the kids, but unfortunately had somewhat negative reactions to the Waifus. It's not that they had hostile reactions, it's just that they didn't have any idea what to do when confronted by litteral girls with cat ears, and especially so many of them.
Ah, well. The gear is going through final evaluations now.
Right now, it's mostly just paint bullets. Smart nanites detect distance to a target and at an optimum distance, a small charge inside the paint bullet explodes and splatters paint over a small area to mark a hit without actually having a solid object hit somebody. This is ideal for mid range engagements and some CQB training. There's also an attachment to the gun that engages when the sensor is pressed right up close to another person which chops the paint bullet in the barrel and then forces most of the gasses and the paint out through vents in the side.
This allows for absolutely safe training without even the danger that a blank gun has.
Come to think of it, I might want to try sending some people over to Japan for a bit, you know, grab some of the culture and carry it along with me, edited of course for my own amusement, but starting from the original should give it some authenticity.
I also slowly remember that maybe I should probably help out those settlements in China.
Hmmmmmmm.
-----------------------------
"Remind me why we're here again?"
That was asked by one Chikako, a Waifu of the 2nd Waifu Infantry Division, otherwise known as the Barebones. It was one of ten divisions that had been formulated and unlike the others which had burgeoning ranks being filled out each day, the Barebones consisted of a single infantry company, the entirety of which was currently crammed into a small fleet of Road Trains heading north.
"Chikako, just shut up alright? You already know the answer."
"Haruka, I know what we're doing. We're supposed to head up from the Australia Hive Base to the Spratly Islands and then set up a forward deployment base as well as set up the necessary facilities for additional reinforcements to expand the facilities and capabilities more. What I want to know is why the hell are we doing this?"
Haruka sighed. She of course also shared that sentiment. While most Waifus usually had a period of time to acclimatize and then were sent into the six month training program, she had been given the acclimatization period and then shoved into a two week program before being deployed.
The base was apparently supposed to be a main staging point for all operations in the Indochinese region, though why it couldn't simply be serviced from Japan or Australia wasn't known, nor why the group had been issued a truly excessive number of American flags.
Still, she dutifully stood her post, manning the .50 caliber machinegun mounted on the rail of the Roadrage class road train she had been assigned to. It wasn't her first choice of weapon, she was the spotter for the two man sniper team, but somebody had to do it what with her actual sniper slumped over the railing and drinking away their limited supply of water.
"Are we there yet?"
A vein pulsed on her forehead.
"No, we are not there yet."
They waited in silence. The sound of the heavy engines pulling the road trains along were the only things that carried through the sound of the wind rushing by. That and Chikako sipping at the water bottle.
"When are we gonna get there?"
"We'll get there when we get there."
. . .
"Are there yet now?"
It was fortunate that the mounted machine gun only had a 160 degree field of fire.
President Morgan called in a bit ago with the Joint Chiefs and SecDef and decided to try to hammer out a deal where I would provide training equipment and a training facility and in return, some of my troops would be able train with various units, Green Berets, Rangers, Seals, Delta and the CIA SAD/SOG. The idea is that I would use my resources to provide the kind of state of the art equipment and facilities that only a progenitor commander could provide, including monitoring and other such whatnot. My people would then act as the opfor for various training exercises. In return, my people would not only receive training from those who are using the facility.
Of course, all who would be coming to Los Alamos would have to be screened and cleared, but it was essentially going to be a small number of persons who are usually trusted with such information anyway, so that's not much of a problem.
Luckily, I've managed to get everybody on the bottle now. It wouldn't exactly do to get caught with my shirt off would it? No sir.
-------------------------
With Los Alamos serving a much bigger role now, the airport is upgraded to serve larger and larger aircraft as well. The field of radiation that was hiding my activities from the rest of the world needed to be pushed around slightly to accommodate the new training facility and everything that the army would need, but it got done. Adam and Eve were also extremely grateful for the much needed activity and basically ramped up everything with the Barracks pumping out batches of Waifus and toy soldiers at record speeds, both the townsite and the white rock suburb are filling up with people.
Along with the activity was also the first operators to oversee exactly what we would need. Three friendly looking guys whom I received dossiers for which proclaimed that they were CIA SOG and had numerous missions under their belt, dealing with various warlords in central and south america. Almost all of those missions are classified and the Dossiers for those more resemble barcodes than actual documents. The only actually visible content were three pictures, one for each of them, names, the aliases that they would be using, and ranks.
Alright, that's fine. I can work with that.
They were nice guys, and they took a liking to the kids, but unfortunately had somewhat negative reactions to the Waifus. It's not that they had hostile reactions, it's just that they didn't have any idea what to do when confronted by litteral girls with cat ears, and especially so many of them.
Ah, well. The gear is going through final evaluations now.
Right now, it's mostly just paint bullets. Smart nanites detect distance to a target and at an optimum distance, a small charge inside the paint bullet explodes and splatters paint over a small area to mark a hit without actually having a solid object hit somebody. This is ideal for mid range engagements and some CQB training. There's also an attachment to the gun that engages when the sensor is pressed right up close to another person which chops the paint bullet in the barrel and then forces most of the gasses and the paint out through vents in the side.
This allows for absolutely safe training without even the danger that a blank gun has.
Come to think of it, I might want to try sending some people over to Japan for a bit, you know, grab some of the culture and carry it along with me, edited of course for my own amusement, but starting from the original should give it some authenticity.
I also slowly remember that maybe I should probably help out those settlements in China.
Hmmmmmmm.
-----------------------------
"Remind me why we're here again?"
That was asked by one Chikako, a Waifu of the 2nd Waifu Infantry Division, otherwise known as the Barebones. It was one of ten divisions that had been formulated and unlike the others which had burgeoning ranks being filled out each day, the Barebones consisted of a single infantry company, the entirety of which was currently crammed into a small fleet of Road Trains heading north.
"Chikako, just shut up alright? You already know the answer."
"Haruka, I know what we're doing. We're supposed to head up from the Australia Hive Base to the Spratly Islands and then set up a forward deployment base as well as set up the necessary facilities for additional reinforcements to expand the facilities and capabilities more. What I want to know is why the hell are we doing this?"
Haruka sighed. She of course also shared that sentiment. While most Waifus usually had a period of time to acclimatize and then were sent into the six month training program, she had been given the acclimatization period and then shoved into a two week program before being deployed.
The base was apparently supposed to be a main staging point for all operations in the Indochinese region, though why it couldn't simply be serviced from Japan or Australia wasn't known, nor why the group had been issued a truly excessive number of American flags.
Still, she dutifully stood her post, manning the .50 caliber machinegun mounted on the rail of the Roadrage class road train she had been assigned to. It wasn't her first choice of weapon, she was the spotter for the two man sniper team, but somebody had to do it what with her actual sniper slumped over the railing and drinking away their limited supply of water.
"Are we there yet?"
A vein pulsed on her forehead.
"No, we are not there yet."
They waited in silence. The sound of the heavy engines pulling the road trains along were the only things that carried through the sound of the wind rushing by. That and Chikako sipping at the water bottle.
"When are we gonna get there?"
"We'll get there when we get there."
. . .
"Are there yet now?"
It was fortunate that the mounted machine gun only had a 160 degree field of fire.
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Ryven Razgriz
I need a Gun and I'll let you know 'What's up?'.
- Location
- South East Asia
Senpai, are we there yet?
44
- Location
- America
With the Barebones formulating an American base in the middle of the South China Sea, denying it to the Chinese present and future, I now have a unit forward deployed across the globe, and with supplies being airdropped via C-5 Galaxy. This is in order to insure that they actually have the materials they need even though the road trains should have more than enough to keep them sustained for long enough to construct an airfield large enough to accommodate large boeing aircraft.
Additionally, Space has basically been conquered for the glory of the United States.
The remainder of the units that were to take part in training using the advanced equipment arrived and immediately set to work making sure everything was up to spec and I think that they were mostly impressed. It's gonna take awhile to get them used to all the Waifus and my Toy Soldiers, but I think they'll probably manage. The giant American flag hanging on the pole in the center of town also might set them at some ease.
I also manage to set some ground rules for the place just to make super sure that they're going to be able to get along.
Rule number one: No guns in the house. I don't need any accidents injuring my kids. Rule enforced by taser shockwave directional mines.
Actually, I might want to put those out to the rest of my units. They might find it useful and if I recall correctly, it was originally developed for riot control. Well, no chance of riots here, but still. It's handy.
Rule number two: The Waifus have feelings too and despite not being entirely human, they do have their own free will, so ask if you want to do something with them.
Rule number three: If the Waifus ask you to do something and you think it's a bad idea, report it immediately because if you refuse, they'll probably do it themselves. Their intelligence is unquestionable. Their wisdom however is lacking.
And that was about it really. There are additional minor rules, but the big three seem to be keeping things moving along just fine, and honestly, that's all I can really ask for, what with essentially everything I do being by the seat of my pants.
--------------------------
Anderson Kuribayashi sat in a Postal coffee shop with Mark Geofrey, her one time commanding officer and now equal, and nursed a mocha latte. Considering the upcoming operation, the chocolatey goodness of a mocha was exactly the thing that would set her mind at ease.
The cafe was somewhat busy, what with mostly being an off day and several officers of the USPIS using their card to get a free cup. There were several other patrons waiting in line.
The bell on the door rang and two ben walked in, instantly spotting the two, and walking over. They sat down and handed over a file.
"Lieutenant Anderson? Mark? Special Agent Irvine."
Anderson looked over at the bald, white caucasian man in sunglasses.
"Kirby." He responded and with nothing else.
"He's not much of a talker." Mark commented.
"He's a man of action. Anyway, let's get down to business. Is this place secure?"
Kuribayashi looked over at the Barista, a tall man with a heavily tanned complexion and a generally rough but friendly demeanor, who began visually scanning the patrons of the Cafe, getting nods from each one until finally he nodded back at the four by the table.
"Right. So, let's go over the plans. It's not every day that the Post Office requests a joint mission with Delta, the CIA and FBI. All of the preparations are done and we managed to figure out their plan. The main team is going to be four guys in front. We're looking at some serious hardware."
"Have you guys tracked where these guys are getting it?"
"No clue. These hypersurvivalist nutjobs usually tend to be really close knit, though I suspect they get it from their network. The only thing we could get from our guest was that the raid was happening today. We thought you might be able to find it out, what with your boss getting us that information and all."
Anderson looked into her cup and saw that she was almost done. She would have to get a refill sometime soon, and that would mean standing in line. That would be a pain.
Mark just sat there with his Venti house coffee. He had the foresight to order more straight up rather than waiting to see if he wanted more after finishing up. The Postmaster General had always ranted about the wastefulness of modern consumerism, but it didn't seem to have much of an effect on most of the Postal Inspection Service.
"Nope. We just got the time of the raid and that's it."
"Hmm? Ah, a shame. Well, in any case, in addition to the main team, they're also going to have maybe eight guys waiting to unleash havoc once the main team is done, and two snipers, though you should already know about the snipers."
"Mmmm. Yes."
"In any case. Some more unruly patrons should be visiting this cafe very soon. You should give them a warm welcome."
Just as Irvine said that, a group of cars pulled up to the cafe and stopped in the middle of the road. Anderson nodded to the barista who also nodded back.
"And there they are. Right on schedule."
She glanced out the window at the group or heavily armed men exiting the cars and then proceeding into the cafe. Everybody else noticed it too, but continued about their business. It wouldn't do after all to spoil the surprise.
As the group entered the cafe, they pointed their guns into the air and fired off a long burst of automatic gunfire. Everyone reacted as expected, some ducking, some screaming.
"Alright, listen up. Nobody move. Don't make any moves and you might get out of this alive." One of the heavily armed men demand. They are heavily armed and armored with somewhat makeshift armor. Definitely not the stuff that the military or even the post office issued to its personnel.
Still though, the guns spoke for themselves.
While three people held the cafe patrons, the apparent leader went to go harass the barista, dropping a brown sack on the desk.
"All the money. Make it quick and we might just let you live."
As standard protocol dictates. It's usually simply easier to acquiesce to a robber's demands. Best to not resist and get into all sorts of trouble. As Weaver retrieved the money from the register and started putting it all on the table for the robber to scoop up into the bag he kept his eye on his watch. A small LED flashed red slowly.
Any second now.
The red LED flipped off and turned a constantly on bright green. As the offender reached to scoop more money into the bag, the Weaver pressed on a part of the counter, revealing it to be a concealed button which opened up a small trunk containing a knife and a handgun. He took the knife and stabbed it down into the lead robber's hand, pinning it down before using the pistol to demonstrate the mozambique drill, as the Postmaster General called it.
As soon as the knife came down, the cafe exploded into action, as the plainclothed delta force operators, CIA agents, and postal inspection agents incapacitated each of the targets with ruthless efficiency, even leaving two alive for further interrogation.
"We're compromised!" Anderson exclaimed. "Irvine. Kirby. Let's move. Weaver! Hit the shutters."
The barista hit another button which caused thick steel shutters to slide down from the roof, closing off the windows and allowing for some amount of cover. As bullets could be heard impacting the outside of the bulletproof security shutters, Weaver began tossing assault rifles to everyone in the bar.
Anderson uncased a P90 from her own baggage while Irvine, Kirby, and Mark caught M4 carbines lobbed their way.
A Hypersurvivalist, if the intel was correct, attempted to storm the building through the glass door but found himself riddled with bullets.
After flipping over the metal tables for cover and getting everybody hunkered down, Weaver hit a button on the counter which caused the shutters to retract back into the ceiling. Fortunately, the hail of bullets hurt nobody and when the Hypersurvivalists attempted to reload, most of the agents as one rose from their low positions and opened fire at the unfortunates outside.
Fortunately, the area was clear of civilians, and there was no danger of snipers as the Hypersurvivalist sniper team was either nonexistent or dead, which was what the red and green light had represented.
"Jackson! Ainsley!" Yelled Mark over his ringing ears. "Use the machine guns to give me cover fire! I'mma move up and try to hit them." He looked over at Anderson who also nodded back.
On the signal, the staccato of the M60 machineguns drowned out all noise and the team of four began moving.
It was basically no contest. There were about 13 highly trained operatives up against rural gun nuts with more bullets than braincells. After a firefight too brief to go through all the bother of describing the rest of it,
Fortunately, the person who most interested the CIA was one who had been non-lethally subdued. The takedowns for basically everyone else though was very much more lethal.
Additionally, Space has basically been conquered for the glory of the United States.
The remainder of the units that were to take part in training using the advanced equipment arrived and immediately set to work making sure everything was up to spec and I think that they were mostly impressed. It's gonna take awhile to get them used to all the Waifus and my Toy Soldiers, but I think they'll probably manage. The giant American flag hanging on the pole in the center of town also might set them at some ease.
I also manage to set some ground rules for the place just to make super sure that they're going to be able to get along.
Rule number one: No guns in the house. I don't need any accidents injuring my kids. Rule enforced by taser shockwave directional mines.
Actually, I might want to put those out to the rest of my units. They might find it useful and if I recall correctly, it was originally developed for riot control. Well, no chance of riots here, but still. It's handy.
Rule number two: The Waifus have feelings too and despite not being entirely human, they do have their own free will, so ask if you want to do something with them.
Rule number three: If the Waifus ask you to do something and you think it's a bad idea, report it immediately because if you refuse, they'll probably do it themselves. Their intelligence is unquestionable. Their wisdom however is lacking.
And that was about it really. There are additional minor rules, but the big three seem to be keeping things moving along just fine, and honestly, that's all I can really ask for, what with essentially everything I do being by the seat of my pants.
--------------------------
Anderson Kuribayashi sat in a Postal coffee shop with Mark Geofrey, her one time commanding officer and now equal, and nursed a mocha latte. Considering the upcoming operation, the chocolatey goodness of a mocha was exactly the thing that would set her mind at ease.
The cafe was somewhat busy, what with mostly being an off day and several officers of the USPIS using their card to get a free cup. There were several other patrons waiting in line.
The bell on the door rang and two ben walked in, instantly spotting the two, and walking over. They sat down and handed over a file.
"Lieutenant Anderson? Mark? Special Agent Irvine."
Anderson looked over at the bald, white caucasian man in sunglasses.
"Kirby." He responded and with nothing else.
"He's not much of a talker." Mark commented.
"He's a man of action. Anyway, let's get down to business. Is this place secure?"
Kuribayashi looked over at the Barista, a tall man with a heavily tanned complexion and a generally rough but friendly demeanor, who began visually scanning the patrons of the Cafe, getting nods from each one until finally he nodded back at the four by the table.
"Right. So, let's go over the plans. It's not every day that the Post Office requests a joint mission with Delta, the CIA and FBI. All of the preparations are done and we managed to figure out their plan. The main team is going to be four guys in front. We're looking at some serious hardware."
"Have you guys tracked where these guys are getting it?"
"No clue. These hypersurvivalist nutjobs usually tend to be really close knit, though I suspect they get it from their network. The only thing we could get from our guest was that the raid was happening today. We thought you might be able to find it out, what with your boss getting us that information and all."
Anderson looked into her cup and saw that she was almost done. She would have to get a refill sometime soon, and that would mean standing in line. That would be a pain.
Mark just sat there with his Venti house coffee. He had the foresight to order more straight up rather than waiting to see if he wanted more after finishing up. The Postmaster General had always ranted about the wastefulness of modern consumerism, but it didn't seem to have much of an effect on most of the Postal Inspection Service.
"Nope. We just got the time of the raid and that's it."
"Hmm? Ah, a shame. Well, in any case, in addition to the main team, they're also going to have maybe eight guys waiting to unleash havoc once the main team is done, and two snipers, though you should already know about the snipers."
"Mmmm. Yes."
"In any case. Some more unruly patrons should be visiting this cafe very soon. You should give them a warm welcome."
Just as Irvine said that, a group of cars pulled up to the cafe and stopped in the middle of the road. Anderson nodded to the barista who also nodded back.
"And there they are. Right on schedule."
She glanced out the window at the group or heavily armed men exiting the cars and then proceeding into the cafe. Everybody else noticed it too, but continued about their business. It wouldn't do after all to spoil the surprise.
As the group entered the cafe, they pointed their guns into the air and fired off a long burst of automatic gunfire. Everyone reacted as expected, some ducking, some screaming.
"Alright, listen up. Nobody move. Don't make any moves and you might get out of this alive." One of the heavily armed men demand. They are heavily armed and armored with somewhat makeshift armor. Definitely not the stuff that the military or even the post office issued to its personnel.
Still though, the guns spoke for themselves.
While three people held the cafe patrons, the apparent leader went to go harass the barista, dropping a brown sack on the desk.
"All the money. Make it quick and we might just let you live."
As standard protocol dictates. It's usually simply easier to acquiesce to a robber's demands. Best to not resist and get into all sorts of trouble. As Weaver retrieved the money from the register and started putting it all on the table for the robber to scoop up into the bag he kept his eye on his watch. A small LED flashed red slowly.
Any second now.
The red LED flipped off and turned a constantly on bright green. As the offender reached to scoop more money into the bag, the Weaver pressed on a part of the counter, revealing it to be a concealed button which opened up a small trunk containing a knife and a handgun. He took the knife and stabbed it down into the lead robber's hand, pinning it down before using the pistol to demonstrate the mozambique drill, as the Postmaster General called it.
As soon as the knife came down, the cafe exploded into action, as the plainclothed delta force operators, CIA agents, and postal inspection agents incapacitated each of the targets with ruthless efficiency, even leaving two alive for further interrogation.
"We're compromised!" Anderson exclaimed. "Irvine. Kirby. Let's move. Weaver! Hit the shutters."
The barista hit another button which caused thick steel shutters to slide down from the roof, closing off the windows and allowing for some amount of cover. As bullets could be heard impacting the outside of the bulletproof security shutters, Weaver began tossing assault rifles to everyone in the bar.
Anderson uncased a P90 from her own baggage while Irvine, Kirby, and Mark caught M4 carbines lobbed their way.
A Hypersurvivalist, if the intel was correct, attempted to storm the building through the glass door but found himself riddled with bullets.
After flipping over the metal tables for cover and getting everybody hunkered down, Weaver hit a button on the counter which caused the shutters to retract back into the ceiling. Fortunately, the hail of bullets hurt nobody and when the Hypersurvivalists attempted to reload, most of the agents as one rose from their low positions and opened fire at the unfortunates outside.
Fortunately, the area was clear of civilians, and there was no danger of snipers as the Hypersurvivalist sniper team was either nonexistent or dead, which was what the red and green light had represented.
"Jackson! Ainsley!" Yelled Mark over his ringing ears. "Use the machine guns to give me cover fire! I'mma move up and try to hit them." He looked over at Anderson who also nodded back.
On the signal, the staccato of the M60 machineguns drowned out all noise and the team of four began moving.
It was basically no contest. There were about 13 highly trained operatives up against rural gun nuts with more bullets than braincells. After a firefight too brief to go through all the bother of describing the rest of it,
Fortunately, the person who most interested the CIA was one who had been non-lethally subdued. The takedowns for basically everyone else though was very much more lethal.
ltmauve
"Excuse me?"
- Location
- Earth
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Are these people from the canon Mad Max verse, or are they something you made up?
- Location
- America
They're basically a group I made up. Really, it's a general term for a bunch of other semi-anarchic anti-government post apocalyptic doomsday cultists and preppers who were hoping to use their guns to carve out various small fiefs from a decaying America.
America was not actually decaying, but it wasn't until the establishment of the USPS that it became quite clear that the US wasn't going anywhere.
45
- Location
- America
At some point, I actually really need to get to work at some point, and I think my babies are just about ready to get on with their moving around. They know how to crawl around so that's good, and with their computer brains, their thinking capabilities are as advanced as that of children many times older and they're able to handle the quantum uplink so I can occasionally download skills and knowledge into them.
That helped when I designed their own personal mobility vehicles so that they can follow me arround to work and stuff. Thankfully, most of the workplaces have double doors.
The baby mobility vehicles are small electric cars, almost like a Peel Trident actually, only instead of being a shitty car for she-men more concerned about the environment than the fact that their appearance might actually hurt the cause they intend to champion, it's actually quite cool. For instance, there's a gyroscopic self righting system in case it ever manages to flip over. There's the fact that I have the "hull" airtight so that it can potentially float. And there's the fact that it has all the safety features that I can think of.
That said, the interior is made in the style of fighter jets. I make 9 of them all told, with four of them being painted blue for Galm squadron, four of them are painted yellow for Yellow squadron, and one is painted Black. That one is for Thrush. I have the interiors for six of them styled in the way of F-4 Phantom II interceptors so that one can fit two, one in front of the other, and I have two of them styled in the way of what I remember an F-22 cockpit is supposed to look like. The Raptor vehicles are the ones the flight leads use, so that they get a feeling for leading their siblings. The last one is styled in the way of an SR-71 blackbird cockpit which should make Thrush more comfortable.
And I've just buckled down Thrush into his seat.
I look into his little baby face while bent at the waist over the side of the vehicle he's in so that I'm about eye level with him.
"Thrush. Do you know what to do?"
He looks down at the controls as he chews on his index finger. It looks like he's deep in concentration. I take that moment to check that everyone else is good to go. Vladimir also checks with the rest of Galm squadron before he gives me a little baby thumbs up. I look over to Hiroki and yellow squadron and get the same result.
I look back down to Thrush.
He looks back up at me and nods his head shortly, pulling his index finger out of his mouth to give me a thumbs up.
"Great! Follow me kay? Don't stray far."
I straighten up and sent out the signal for the Garage door to open up. The sunlight hits me and I find myself temporarily blinded as I've mostly been staying inside the house for upwards of 5 ish months taking care of my 15 children. Man that sucks, but at least my progenitor tech reinforced eyes are able to readjust after only a short span, a few seconds at most.
The townsite of Los Alamos when I started out had been a bombed out waste with only a road heading from the old airstrip to where my house was as well as a small robot depot that I would use to bring me food shipments. Now it's a hustling bustling healthy little community with shops and houses, and people, and all that good stuff. Most of the population is Waifus but many of them are also decommissioned Toy Soldiers as well as other government personnel and the various special forces teams we're supposed to train mostly going around the town taking in the sights.
Vendors hawk their wares, couples argue, one couple engages in an act of public lewdness before they're set upon by a nearby member of the military police with a truncheon, and overall, I think I did a pretty good job. Most of the population is even civilians too.
So I stroll down the road to the airport with my kids all in formation behind me. Fortunately I don't exactly have to deal with many cars going down what has turned into the main street of the town, and so that allows me to walk with all of my kids rolling down the street behind me in formation.
What a sight we must be.
Unfortunately, it doesn't take all that long for me to walk four kilometers to the local airport which is a shame because it seems like everyone was abundantly amused and I'm pretty sure the Waifus got really excited.
I've upgraded the local air strip into a full up airport complete with the eight runways and the massive underground hangar structures as well as the ones designed to fit oversized aircraft. A C-5 Galaxy with a cargo bay modified to accommodate children waits ready to take off with the ramp down to accommodate the baby sized convoy and one adult.
As the autodrivers move the vehicles into position and lock them down, I transfer my babies from the vehicles to the play area, starting with Thrush, then going on down to Yellow squadron, starting with Hiroki, then Milton and Raymond, then Levi and Aleksey, and then Payton and Hachiro. And then I go to Galm squadron once I've got Yellow all settled in.
Huh. It appears that they're all tired. They crawled all the way over to the mattresses and just went to sleep.
Ah, kids.
Vladimir seems to be just about happy. He goes over and joins Thrush playing with toy airplanes. Luc and Riku are next, and then Nichol and Kayden, and then Jiro and Geoffrey. Well, they all seem to be happy.
I snap my fingers and that triggers a small fabricator to construct a small steel covering for the little kid mobiles to really prevent them from rolling around, and then mentally signal the plane to get going. Hmm. I haven't had a drink for a while.
That helped when I designed their own personal mobility vehicles so that they can follow me arround to work and stuff. Thankfully, most of the workplaces have double doors.
The baby mobility vehicles are small electric cars, almost like a Peel Trident actually, only instead of being a shitty car for she-men more concerned about the environment than the fact that their appearance might actually hurt the cause they intend to champion, it's actually quite cool. For instance, there's a gyroscopic self righting system in case it ever manages to flip over. There's the fact that I have the "hull" airtight so that it can potentially float. And there's the fact that it has all the safety features that I can think of.
That said, the interior is made in the style of fighter jets. I make 9 of them all told, with four of them being painted blue for Galm squadron, four of them are painted yellow for Yellow squadron, and one is painted Black. That one is for Thrush. I have the interiors for six of them styled in the way of F-4 Phantom II interceptors so that one can fit two, one in front of the other, and I have two of them styled in the way of what I remember an F-22 cockpit is supposed to look like. The Raptor vehicles are the ones the flight leads use, so that they get a feeling for leading their siblings. The last one is styled in the way of an SR-71 blackbird cockpit which should make Thrush more comfortable.
And I've just buckled down Thrush into his seat.
I look into his little baby face while bent at the waist over the side of the vehicle he's in so that I'm about eye level with him.
"Thrush. Do you know what to do?"
He looks down at the controls as he chews on his index finger. It looks like he's deep in concentration. I take that moment to check that everyone else is good to go. Vladimir also checks with the rest of Galm squadron before he gives me a little baby thumbs up. I look over to Hiroki and yellow squadron and get the same result.
I look back down to Thrush.
He looks back up at me and nods his head shortly, pulling his index finger out of his mouth to give me a thumbs up.
"Great! Follow me kay? Don't stray far."
I straighten up and sent out the signal for the Garage door to open up. The sunlight hits me and I find myself temporarily blinded as I've mostly been staying inside the house for upwards of 5 ish months taking care of my 15 children. Man that sucks, but at least my progenitor tech reinforced eyes are able to readjust after only a short span, a few seconds at most.
The townsite of Los Alamos when I started out had been a bombed out waste with only a road heading from the old airstrip to where my house was as well as a small robot depot that I would use to bring me food shipments. Now it's a hustling bustling healthy little community with shops and houses, and people, and all that good stuff. Most of the population is Waifus but many of them are also decommissioned Toy Soldiers as well as other government personnel and the various special forces teams we're supposed to train mostly going around the town taking in the sights.
Vendors hawk their wares, couples argue, one couple engages in an act of public lewdness before they're set upon by a nearby member of the military police with a truncheon, and overall, I think I did a pretty good job. Most of the population is even civilians too.
So I stroll down the road to the airport with my kids all in formation behind me. Fortunately I don't exactly have to deal with many cars going down what has turned into the main street of the town, and so that allows me to walk with all of my kids rolling down the street behind me in formation.
What a sight we must be.
Unfortunately, it doesn't take all that long for me to walk four kilometers to the local airport which is a shame because it seems like everyone was abundantly amused and I'm pretty sure the Waifus got really excited.
I've upgraded the local air strip into a full up airport complete with the eight runways and the massive underground hangar structures as well as the ones designed to fit oversized aircraft. A C-5 Galaxy with a cargo bay modified to accommodate children waits ready to take off with the ramp down to accommodate the baby sized convoy and one adult.
As the autodrivers move the vehicles into position and lock them down, I transfer my babies from the vehicles to the play area, starting with Thrush, then going on down to Yellow squadron, starting with Hiroki, then Milton and Raymond, then Levi and Aleksey, and then Payton and Hachiro. And then I go to Galm squadron once I've got Yellow all settled in.
Huh. It appears that they're all tired. They crawled all the way over to the mattresses and just went to sleep.
Ah, kids.
Vladimir seems to be just about happy. He goes over and joins Thrush playing with toy airplanes. Luc and Riku are next, and then Nichol and Kayden, and then Jiro and Geoffrey. Well, they all seem to be happy.
I snap my fingers and that triggers a small fabricator to construct a small steel covering for the little kid mobiles to really prevent them from rolling around, and then mentally signal the plane to get going. Hmm. I haven't had a drink for a while.
Last edited:
Ryven Razgriz
I need a Gun and I'll let you know 'What's up?'.
- Location
- South East Asia
- Location
- America
It can't be said that I do my best proofreading after I hit submit.
Grounders10
Nine-Tailed Kitsune
- Location
- British Columbia, Canada, Mars
We are watching.
- Location
- America
Ah! I shall try not to disappoint.
Honestly, I think I'm dragging this on too long.
I don't know if I should just work through the formative years or just take a few jumps forward and leave for the next world.
Grounders10
Nine-Tailed Kitsune
- Location
- British Columbia, Canada, Mars
Do what feels bessst.
- Location
- Море песка, солнце огня и множество злых сарацин
I personally think the slice of life is the best part. You might as well spend another fifty (or even more) chapters in the "formative years", and I think it will only get better. (If anything, I think that you might well be skipping over too much already.)
Then again, one of my favorite fanfics is Taylor Varga, which took over 800,000 words (and counting) to cover a time period of about seven weeks. And before that it was Heromaker's Legacy, which took (IIRC) over 500,000 words to cover four weeks. So I might not be the best critic for the pacing of a story.
Then again, one of my favorite fanfics is Taylor Varga, which took over 800,000 words (and counting) to cover a time period of about seven weeks. And before that it was Heromaker's Legacy, which took (IIRC) over 500,000 words to cover four weeks. So I might not be the best critic for the pacing of a story.
46
- Location
- America
While I was in the C-5 Galaxy from Los Alamos to Washington DC, I attempted to fiddle around with ways of having my story recorded, mostly in attempting to change the narration style around, possibly in the past tense. I didn't know how exactly I would do that, but I didn't care at the time since it would pass the time.
Well, it's not like I would really notice, but still, it couldn't hurt could it?
Apparently the little baby cars actually attracted attracted a lot of attention, but thankfully, I managed to get to the post office okay. While I had to field quite a lot of questions regarding the kids, but when I quietly made noises to the tune of things being classified, my employees stopped asking where they came from, and asked more questions like if they were really mine, what their names were, who the father was, and why they were so adorable.
The answers to those questions was Yes they were mine, look at their name tags, that's classified, and because they're mine and thus perfect by default.
Normally, I would also have people making passes at me, but I think the presence of the kid, and the ring on my right hand managed to ward off anybody. Of course, my radar kept picking up people looking in my direction, but that's fine, looking is okay, touching not so much. Locking away some of the troublesome parts of my self identity solved so many problems. I wonder why I didn't do it before.
I opened the door to my office to find that the interns had actually been cleaning it recently. Lovely.
An intern passed by with a tray of coffee mugs, one of which I nonchalantly grabbed. He didn't make a fuss about it.
Hmm. Hacking into the security records.
Ah, while I was gone, Postal Coffee had started just delivering coffee to the post office, so now the main campus had interns just occasionally running around with trays of coffee, and distributing it to all of the workers. Ah, my employees are all so smart. It just goes to show that my screening is working, for the time being at least.
I sat down at the desk and opened the newspaper sitting on my desk. Additionally, I pushed the camera rig onto the floor. Now that I was actually back in Washington DC, I wouldn't need it to read the news anymore.
Do~ do~ dododooo~ dooo~ dododooo~
Elections aren't looking so hot. As much as I hate using cash to decide the political process, I might have to. The most promising candidate is running on a platform that I somewhat agreed with, somewhat didn't agree with, but was being followed around by anti-intellectualists, and that's just not good. I counted as an intellectual after all. So did most of the rest of my staff. That, and the fact that he was demanding that the post office be restructured to be more transparent in its operations, which it already was, as well as demanding that the airship technology be released for civilian use.
Really, that can't happen.
The other candidate was much more in line with any agenda I might have in the future, but was politically untennable with a few scandals behind him.
I pulled out a note pad and pencil and penciled in a meeting concerning the elections and my possibly impending replacement.
I looked up at the clock in my office. It was basically an atomic clock that used vibrations of a cesium atom to determine a second. I had about an hour before lunch, and that would mean feeding them all. Now I'm really glad I've got them on solid food. It wouldn't do to set a bad example.
As I looked through the rest of the newspaper, I made a brief pass through the sports section, which was utterly useless to me since I was more a science sort of guy rather than a sporty sort of guy, and I only looked through it to see if my I would have to send Morgan 200 dollars or not.
Turns out? Yeah, I'm out 200 bucks.
It looks like Vandenburg was gonna become fully operational again. I'd have to have my organization begin moving everything out of Earth's orbit and over to the Lagrange points. The units in Jupiter could stay where they were previously.
Speaking of which. I needed a name for my forces. Originally, I had simply referred to everything as the post office, but since that promised to be taken away from me soon, I'd need to come up with a new name.
I used the small fabricator built into the ring on my hand to manufacture a small device. I pressed the big red button, and four seconds later, it flashed four words.
United Quantum Solutions Group
Well, as far as organizational names go, it can't be all that bad. In any case, it's a serviceable enough name.
I pulled out two laptops from the bottom left drawer of my desk and opened them up on the table. Superior american ingenuity plus progenitor materials allowed my computers to boot up almost instantly, and with the multi-tasking skill only possessed by people such as myself, I entered my login information on both at the same time.
Why have two? Well, one was for work, and the other one was personal use. I couldn't very well be seen slacking off on my work computer could I? So I used my personal one for personal business, and the work one for actual post office work. Thankfully, the quantum data link allowed the emails sent on my personal computer to be untraceable, which is why I used it most often.
In a flurry of emails, it was done.
My organization was United Quantum Solutions Group.
Under the umbrella of that group was three branches, American, International, and the Postal Service. While privatized mail delivery was out of the question for now, what with the United States Postal Service becoming so entrenched, once I leave, the free market in other places would allow me to set it up. I'd use my capabilities to undercut my opponents while working with the various governments in order to establish legitimacy and confidence, leaving the only privatized mail delivery to exist only as private correspondence and illegal package running.
United Quantum Solutions International would be the largest branch and have four branches, Heavy Industries, Coast Guard, Anti-terrorism, and Economic Intelligence.
United Quantum Solutions America would be the smallest branch, but it would be the one that I have my own personal hand in. It would consist of three divisions, Defense, Research and Development, and Private Security.
In this way, I would be able to effectively manage all of my subordinates, as well as arrange things completely in house for my sons if necessary, even if assistance from the outside would be preferred. I haven't interfered in their development, and I fully intended on keeping with that.
I checked in on the security cameras and put the newspaper down. I walked to the door and opened it.
"Oi! You idiots. I know my sons are perfect, but that doesn't mean you can stop working!"
Well, it's not like I would really notice, but still, it couldn't hurt could it?
Apparently the little baby cars actually attracted attracted a lot of attention, but thankfully, I managed to get to the post office okay. While I had to field quite a lot of questions regarding the kids, but when I quietly made noises to the tune of things being classified, my employees stopped asking where they came from, and asked more questions like if they were really mine, what their names were, who the father was, and why they were so adorable.
The answers to those questions was Yes they were mine, look at their name tags, that's classified, and because they're mine and thus perfect by default.
Normally, I would also have people making passes at me, but I think the presence of the kid, and the ring on my right hand managed to ward off anybody. Of course, my radar kept picking up people looking in my direction, but that's fine, looking is okay, touching not so much. Locking away some of the troublesome parts of my self identity solved so many problems. I wonder why I didn't do it before.
I opened the door to my office to find that the interns had actually been cleaning it recently. Lovely.
An intern passed by with a tray of coffee mugs, one of which I nonchalantly grabbed. He didn't make a fuss about it.
Hmm. Hacking into the security records.
Ah, while I was gone, Postal Coffee had started just delivering coffee to the post office, so now the main campus had interns just occasionally running around with trays of coffee, and distributing it to all of the workers. Ah, my employees are all so smart. It just goes to show that my screening is working, for the time being at least.
I sat down at the desk and opened the newspaper sitting on my desk. Additionally, I pushed the camera rig onto the floor. Now that I was actually back in Washington DC, I wouldn't need it to read the news anymore.
Do~ do~ dododooo~ dooo~ dododooo~
Elections aren't looking so hot. As much as I hate using cash to decide the political process, I might have to. The most promising candidate is running on a platform that I somewhat agreed with, somewhat didn't agree with, but was being followed around by anti-intellectualists, and that's just not good. I counted as an intellectual after all. So did most of the rest of my staff. That, and the fact that he was demanding that the post office be restructured to be more transparent in its operations, which it already was, as well as demanding that the airship technology be released for civilian use.
Really, that can't happen.
The other candidate was much more in line with any agenda I might have in the future, but was politically untennable with a few scandals behind him.
I pulled out a note pad and pencil and penciled in a meeting concerning the elections and my possibly impending replacement.
I looked up at the clock in my office. It was basically an atomic clock that used vibrations of a cesium atom to determine a second. I had about an hour before lunch, and that would mean feeding them all. Now I'm really glad I've got them on solid food. It wouldn't do to set a bad example.
As I looked through the rest of the newspaper, I made a brief pass through the sports section, which was utterly useless to me since I was more a science sort of guy rather than a sporty sort of guy, and I only looked through it to see if my I would have to send Morgan 200 dollars or not.
Turns out? Yeah, I'm out 200 bucks.
It looks like Vandenburg was gonna become fully operational again. I'd have to have my organization begin moving everything out of Earth's orbit and over to the Lagrange points. The units in Jupiter could stay where they were previously.
Speaking of which. I needed a name for my forces. Originally, I had simply referred to everything as the post office, but since that promised to be taken away from me soon, I'd need to come up with a new name.
I used the small fabricator built into the ring on my hand to manufacture a small device. I pressed the big red button, and four seconds later, it flashed four words.
United Quantum Solutions Group
Well, as far as organizational names go, it can't be all that bad. In any case, it's a serviceable enough name.
I pulled out two laptops from the bottom left drawer of my desk and opened them up on the table. Superior american ingenuity plus progenitor materials allowed my computers to boot up almost instantly, and with the multi-tasking skill only possessed by people such as myself, I entered my login information on both at the same time.
Why have two? Well, one was for work, and the other one was personal use. I couldn't very well be seen slacking off on my work computer could I? So I used my personal one for personal business, and the work one for actual post office work. Thankfully, the quantum data link allowed the emails sent on my personal computer to be untraceable, which is why I used it most often.
In a flurry of emails, it was done.
My organization was United Quantum Solutions Group.
Under the umbrella of that group was three branches, American, International, and the Postal Service. While privatized mail delivery was out of the question for now, what with the United States Postal Service becoming so entrenched, once I leave, the free market in other places would allow me to set it up. I'd use my capabilities to undercut my opponents while working with the various governments in order to establish legitimacy and confidence, leaving the only privatized mail delivery to exist only as private correspondence and illegal package running.
United Quantum Solutions International would be the largest branch and have four branches, Heavy Industries, Coast Guard, Anti-terrorism, and Economic Intelligence.
United Quantum Solutions America would be the smallest branch, but it would be the one that I have my own personal hand in. It would consist of three divisions, Defense, Research and Development, and Private Security.
In this way, I would be able to effectively manage all of my subordinates, as well as arrange things completely in house for my sons if necessary, even if assistance from the outside would be preferred. I haven't interfered in their development, and I fully intended on keeping with that.
I checked in on the security cameras and put the newspaper down. I walked to the door and opened it.
"Oi! You idiots. I know my sons are perfect, but that doesn't mean you can stop working!"
We Just Write
Blatantly Plural
- Location
- New England
- Pronouns
- Plural
I find it hilarious how you're the only Commander who wound up working for the government so far.
- Location
- America
Well that's good to know. I though that it would be somewhat interesting to be limited by what the government allows and have some soft shackles rather than hard limitations.
That and I'm a patriot to the core.
List of aircraft mounted weapons
- Location
- America
Kuh! Nobody ever discusses anything!
*sad noises in American*
In any case, people generally reacted well to Fusou posting an index. Might as well put one up as well.
[United Quantum Solutions Group Encyclopedia]
[A comprehensive guide for the newly recruited to exactly what the fuck everything is]
[For internal consumption only. Do not distribute]
List of Aircraft Mounted Weapons
[Article: AIM-9X2 Evolved Sidewinder]
[Article: AIM-54X Quetzalcoatl]
[Article: AGM-1000 Hydra (All Direction Multi-Purpose Missile)]
[Article: AGM-84X Boosted Harpoon]
[Article: AGM-65X Advanced Air-to-Ground Missile]
[Article: Guided Penetration Bomb]
[Article: M61B Vulcan]
*sad noises in American*
In any case, people generally reacted well to Fusou posting an index. Might as well put one up as well.
[United Quantum Solutions Group Encyclopedia]
[A comprehensive guide for the newly recruited to exactly what the fuck everything is]
[For internal consumption only. Do not distribute]
List of Aircraft Mounted Weapons
[Article: AIM-9X2 Evolved Sidewinder]
Weapon Type: MSSL
The Sidewinder is a short range air to air missile developed by the United States Navy in the 1950s, entering service in 1956. The Evolved Sidewinder is an upgrade to the sidewinder using progenitor sensor technology and computers developed by United Quantum Solutions Group in order to provide a cheap and simple universal weapon to equip all of the corporation's fighter aircraft and some other aircraft besides.
It uses an Imaging Infrared seeker as well as a very powerful semi-intelligent computer to determine what is a valid target or not, including ground vehicles, which makes the Evolved Sidewinder suitable for a ground attack role as well.
The brevity code is Fox Two.
The Sidewinder is a short range air to air missile developed by the United States Navy in the 1950s, entering service in 1956. The Evolved Sidewinder is an upgrade to the sidewinder using progenitor sensor technology and computers developed by United Quantum Solutions Group in order to provide a cheap and simple universal weapon to equip all of the corporation's fighter aircraft and some other aircraft besides.
It uses an Imaging Infrared seeker as well as a very powerful semi-intelligent computer to determine what is a valid target or not, including ground vehicles, which makes the Evolved Sidewinder suitable for a ground attack role as well.
The brevity code is Fox Two.
[Article: AIM-54X Quetzalcoatl]
Weapon Type: XMAA
The AIM-54X is a modification to the AIM-54 Phoenix series of missiles designed to engage an enemy at long range. United Quantum Solutions Group modified the existing missile with a new motor, computer, and improved seaker head which contains both an active milimeter wave radar as well as an Imaging Infrared seeker.
In the midcourse stage, the missile is steered by semi-active radar homing, but switches to active radar and infrared if the lock is interrupted. Like the Evolved Sidewinder, the Quetzalcoatl is also more than capable of attacking ground targets.
The improved rocket motor allows the missile a range of +150 nautical miles.
The brevity code is Fox Three
The AIM-54X is a modification to the AIM-54 Phoenix series of missiles designed to engage an enemy at long range. United Quantum Solutions Group modified the existing missile with a new motor, computer, and improved seaker head which contains both an active milimeter wave radar as well as an Imaging Infrared seeker.
In the midcourse stage, the missile is steered by semi-active radar homing, but switches to active radar and infrared if the lock is interrupted. Like the Evolved Sidewinder, the Quetzalcoatl is also more than capable of attacking ground targets.
The improved rocket motor allows the missile a range of +150 nautical miles.
The brevity code is Fox Three
[Article: AGM-1000 Hydra (All Direction Multi-Purpose Missile)]
Weapon Type: ADMM
The AGM-1000 Hydra is a 2.75 inch guided missile descended from the Hydra 70, a 2.75-inch fin-stabilized unguided rocket used primarily in the air-to-ground role by the United States of America. Very little remains of the original design with only somewhat similar form factor alluding to any sort of heritage.
Propulsion is a rocket motor of the same dimensions as the Mk 66 which provides up to 20 nautical miles of range as well as thrust vectoring. Guidance is provided by a seeker head containing both a millimeter wave radar, and an infrared imaging seeker. In exchange, each ADMM has a somewhat anemic warhead, containing only 20 lbs of TNT equivalent in a HEAT warhead.
ADMMs are launched from an improved 19 round pod for use from pylons on helicopters or from a 57 round vertical launcher attached to fixed wing aircraft. An unfortunate aspect of the VLS launching pods is that they cause undue drag on most aircraft and are bulky, causing lower performance, and aircraft thus armed are usually not expected to fight peer opponents. This demands that the launchers be placed on the ventral side near the wings. Vertical launcher pods can be ejected during flight, but it is not recommended.
The average loadout for any aircraft is two vertical launcher pods, making for a loadout of 114 ADMMs, which can be used against both ground targets and relatively slow moving aircraft. Firing is usually done by rapid volleys of 38 attacking up to 12 targets at a time.
The brevity code is Drive.
The AGM-1000 Hydra is a 2.75 inch guided missile descended from the Hydra 70, a 2.75-inch fin-stabilized unguided rocket used primarily in the air-to-ground role by the United States of America. Very little remains of the original design with only somewhat similar form factor alluding to any sort of heritage.
Propulsion is a rocket motor of the same dimensions as the Mk 66 which provides up to 20 nautical miles of range as well as thrust vectoring. Guidance is provided by a seeker head containing both a millimeter wave radar, and an infrared imaging seeker. In exchange, each ADMM has a somewhat anemic warhead, containing only 20 lbs of TNT equivalent in a HEAT warhead.
ADMMs are launched from an improved 19 round pod for use from pylons on helicopters or from a 57 round vertical launcher attached to fixed wing aircraft. An unfortunate aspect of the VLS launching pods is that they cause undue drag on most aircraft and are bulky, causing lower performance, and aircraft thus armed are usually not expected to fight peer opponents. This demands that the launchers be placed on the ventral side near the wings. Vertical launcher pods can be ejected during flight, but it is not recommended.
The average loadout for any aircraft is two vertical launcher pods, making for a loadout of 114 ADMMs, which can be used against both ground targets and relatively slow moving aircraft. Firing is usually done by rapid volleys of 38 attacking up to 12 targets at a time.
The brevity code is Drive.
[Article: AGM-84X Boosted Harpoon]
Weapon Type: LASM
Boosted Harpoon is a modification of the Harpoon Missile by McDonnell Douglas. Originally designed to attack surfaced submarines, it now sees use as the primary anti-ship armament for United Quantum Solutions Group. It boasts a range of some 350 kilometers and has both active radar homing, terrain reading, GPS, and Imaging Infrared, allowing for extremely potent effects against both land and ship based targets through good placement in addition to the missile payload.
Depending on payload, Boosted Harpoon is capable of mounting a 450 lbs progenitor explosive warhead, a 155 kiloton casaba howitzer nuclear warhead for extreme situations, or cluster warheads containing 15 3 kiloton "mini-nukes" if necessary.
The brevity code is Bruiser.
Boosted Harpoon is a modification of the Harpoon Missile by McDonnell Douglas. Originally designed to attack surfaced submarines, it now sees use as the primary anti-ship armament for United Quantum Solutions Group. It boasts a range of some 350 kilometers and has both active radar homing, terrain reading, GPS, and Imaging Infrared, allowing for extremely potent effects against both land and ship based targets through good placement in addition to the missile payload.
Depending on payload, Boosted Harpoon is capable of mounting a 450 lbs progenitor explosive warhead, a 155 kiloton casaba howitzer nuclear warhead for extreme situations, or cluster warheads containing 15 3 kiloton "mini-nukes" if necessary.
The brevity code is Bruiser.
[Article: AGM-65X Advanced Air-to-Ground Missile]
Weapon Type: XAGM
AGM-65X is a missile developed by United Quantum Solutions Group following the same form factor as the AGM-65 Maverick, with a much greater range, greater killing power, and greater accuracy.
The rocket motor allows the XAGM a firing range of over 60 kilometers while carrying a warhead using a shaped charge of 200 lbs of TNT equivalent. The XAGM is designed for extreme lethality against hardened targets such as bunkers and other reinforced concrete or metal targets. This is as a compliment to its ground support role which is made possible in a variety of situations by the seeker head which can guide the missile via active radar, imaging infrared, laser, or TV.
The brevity code is Rifle.
AGM-65X is a missile developed by United Quantum Solutions Group following the same form factor as the AGM-65 Maverick, with a much greater range, greater killing power, and greater accuracy.
The rocket motor allows the XAGM a firing range of over 60 kilometers while carrying a warhead using a shaped charge of 200 lbs of TNT equivalent. The XAGM is designed for extreme lethality against hardened targets such as bunkers and other reinforced concrete or metal targets. This is as a compliment to its ground support role which is made possible in a variety of situations by the seeker head which can guide the missile via active radar, imaging infrared, laser, or TV.
The brevity code is Rifle.
[Article: Guided Penetration Bomb]
Weapon Type: GPB
The Guided Penetration Bomb is actually a series of mod kits to turn general purpose unguided bombs into precision guided munitions, consisting of a fin set for the front and rear, and a guidance package consisting of a Laser guidance, GPS and ISN to steer the bomb to a destination.
Actual bombs consist of 2000 pound bombs, 1000 pounds, 500 pounds, and 250 pounds corresponding with general weight rather than explosive fill, though with explosive fill being progenitor explosive rather than a standard plastic explosive.
These bombs can be manufactured even by a low techbase and also requires much less energy to manufacture than other more sophisticated guided munitions.
The Penetration portion of the name refers to the front cap being capable of penetrating a significant distance into concrete, stone, or soil before setting off the main explosive charge.
The brevity code is Pickle.
The Guided Penetration Bomb is actually a series of mod kits to turn general purpose unguided bombs into precision guided munitions, consisting of a fin set for the front and rear, and a guidance package consisting of a Laser guidance, GPS and ISN to steer the bomb to a destination.
Actual bombs consist of 2000 pound bombs, 1000 pounds, 500 pounds, and 250 pounds corresponding with general weight rather than explosive fill, though with explosive fill being progenitor explosive rather than a standard plastic explosive.
These bombs can be manufactured even by a low techbase and also requires much less energy to manufacture than other more sophisticated guided munitions.
The Penetration portion of the name refers to the front cap being capable of penetrating a significant distance into concrete, stone, or soil before setting off the main explosive charge.
The brevity code is Pickle.
[Article: M61B Vulcan]
Weapon Type: GUN
The M61 Vulcan is a hydraulically or pneumatically driven, six-barrel, air-cooled, electrically fired Gatling-style rotary cannon which fires 20 mm rounds at an extremely high rate (typically 6,000 rounds per minute). The M61 and its derivatives have been the principal cannon armament of United States military fixed-wing aircraft for fifty years.
The M61B is a variant of the normal M61 modified to accept United Quantum Solutions Group proprietary caseless rounds, and is the standard gun armament of United Quantum Solutions Group aircraft. The caseless rounds are smaller in size, taking advantage of progenitor chemistry to be more powerful while also being smaller, allowing for more ammunition to be carried at any time.
The brevity code is Guns.
The M61 Vulcan is a hydraulically or pneumatically driven, six-barrel, air-cooled, electrically fired Gatling-style rotary cannon which fires 20 mm rounds at an extremely high rate (typically 6,000 rounds per minute). The M61 and its derivatives have been the principal cannon armament of United States military fixed-wing aircraft for fifty years.
The M61B is a variant of the normal M61 modified to accept United Quantum Solutions Group proprietary caseless rounds, and is the standard gun armament of United Quantum Solutions Group aircraft. The caseless rounds are smaller in size, taking advantage of progenitor chemistry to be more powerful while also being smaller, allowing for more ammunition to be carried at any time.
The brevity code is Guns.