[x] Operation Bulwark
No. of Votes: 11
NHO
brainlessdragon
Hazardine
ltmauve
Mechanis
Mik3k
pheonix89
Redhead222
Happerry
hcvquizibo
Ostrich
Gritting your teeth, you decide to lean into your production advantage before hastily ordering your forces to reform under the barrels of the FARO machines' guns. Spitting out order after order, a ripple of activity runs up your warmachines as they instantly react to your commands and begin to flow in toward the gap in your lines. In a matter of moments, the breach made by the experimental's attack is filled by dozens of your units; the semi-autonomous vehicles launching attack after attack on the approaching mass of FARO machines even as they're stripped apart by the whirling mass of nanotech that surrounds them.
Lasers chattering, electron bolters barking, and neutron bombs flashing, your forces lay into the swarm like Caligula's legions attacking the onrushing tide; whole squads of FARO machines simply vanishing as your units play their fire across their lines. Annoyingly unwilling to sit still and take it, the encroaching FARO machines respond with a barrage of their own which falls amongst your units like hail. In an instant, dozens of your units are ripped apart by the attacks, peals of fire leaping into the sky as missiles and railguns sunder armour and tear into vital components. Worse still, the raging swarm of nanotechnology covering much of your line works its magic as it embraces unit after unit and bites into their armour; viciously disassembling them layer by layer until all that is left is a corroded wreck surrounded by toxic metal dust. Growling in frustration, you watch as unit after unit is lost to the FARO swarms, your forces steadily falling under the deadly combination of firepower and destructive nanotechnology even as the river of reinforcements from your factories floods out and reinforces your lines.
On and on the FARO machines charge, the wickedly deadly experimental joining them once more even as your Gunthers rain down a storm of fire across its path and smash its escorts to scrap. Acting quickly, and more than a little fearful of another blast like the last, you seize control of your own experimentals —every last one of them— and order them to target the onrushing lobster-spider-thing with a glare so furious it could melt steel.
For a moment it seems as if your orders come too late as the furious machine smashes into your lines, drill-tipped tentacles smashing Hoplites and Loyalist with equal ease and flicking Bricks high into the sky; and then…
With a boom that rolls across the benighted landscape, your Megalith opens fire; four 800mm shells of hyperdense alloy slamming into the titanic FARO machine in the blink of an eye before exploding in a flash of lemon-yellow light as their deadly cargoes of supercharged protons are unleashed.
Rocking backwards from the force of the blast, the colossal machine seems to screech in pain and anger as vast sheets of semi-molten armour slough off its hull and reveal its sparking, shuddering, and vulnerable internals. Taking advantage of the FARO machine's newfound weakness, you order your forces to focus on the vast rents in its armour; smiling thinly as the construct stumbles away from the storm of fire that rises to greet it and raises its tentacles to shield the chasms. Before the machine can manage even three steps backwards, your Monkey Lords open up on the wounded beast with their own arsenals; spears of ruby-red light sawing through its tentacles in a heartbeat before incinerating it from the inside out.
With a final robotic screech and an explosion of oily smoke, the half-lobster half-spider thing falls to earth and lies still; the shock of its impact sending dozens of smaller FARO bots stumbling to the ground where they're annihilated in an instant by your Bricks and Loyalists. Before the stunned and reeling swarm of FARO machines can even attempt to regroup, a deafening roar rings out and a line of explosions appears in the midst of the rogue warmachines; the sunflower yellow blasts a symphony of destruction which fills the air with smoke, flame, and shrapnel as machines die by the hundreds.
Smiling thinly, you order your experimentals to counter-charge the FARO machines as you spot your skirmishing groups marching towards their flanks; the proton cannons of your Salem's reloading in preparation for their next barrage.
"Well," you say to your Shadow a few seconds later as the FARO charge stalls and splinters under the less-than-delicate attentions of your Monkey Lords, "that was… lively."
In response, your Shadow releases a trill of victory that shoots into your veins like fire. Moments later, the FARO charge breaks completely as the rogue warmachines seem to realise that they're utterly outmatched by your forces and, as if thinking that discretion is the better part of valour, the surviving warmachines whirl about as one and begin to fall back toward the ocean; rockets, bombs, and lasers biting at their heels as they retreat.
"Now for the cleanup," you mutter as you gather your fleets
=============
Five minutes later, the island of Taiwan is clear of everything FARO-related save the smoking, burning wrecks of thousands of rogue warmachines. Surveying the burning and denuded battlefield, you take a moment to bask in the feeling of a total victory before keying your radio.
"Brigadier General Zhāng," you say simply, "this is Lieutenant Colonel Iosef Tómasson."
"You've cleared the swarm," she responds an instant later, not bothering to pretend that it's a question. In the background of the radio channel, lying just under the general's words, you hear a sound like waves crashing over sand —the noise ebbing and flowing seemingly without rhyme or reason.
For a moment, you wonder why on earth the general is on a beach before the noise clicks in your mind and you realise with a grin that you're hearing cheers. Turning your ACU's sensors towards the twin cities of Tainan and Kaohsiung, you see waves of spontaneous celebration ripple out from the city centres as news of your victory passes from ear to ear.
"Yes," you inform the general as you push down on the victorious thrill that runs up your spine. "I have accounted for all four-thousand and ninety-six FARO units that attempted to invade. None managed to slip through my lines or escape. The day is won, general."
For a long moment, nothing but static crackles through your ACU's speakers and you begin to wonder if Zhāng is still there when a languid chuckle suddenly reverberates throughout your command pod.
"Excellent work, lieutenant colonel," says Zhāng a moment later, her relief at the news breaking through her taciturn shell as the cheers in the background of the audio channel redouble in strength.
"The Republic of China owes you a debt of gratitude," she continues, "you've saved uncountable lives tonight."
"Thank you, ma'am," you reply sincerely.
"I'll stay long enough to clear up the battlefield," you continue as you order your surviving units into neat rows with one part of your mind. With another, you watch over your engineers as they begin reclaiming the wrecks of machines left behind —both Cybran and FARO— as well as the patches of mildly radioactive dirt produced by your proton shells and the burned out nanites that litter the ground.
"I can't do anything about the landscape," you add as one after another, the scars of the battlefield disappear in flashes of white light, "but I can reclaim the wrecks and deal with the nanites so no one risks breathing in toxic dust or stumbling onto anything dangerous."
"After that," you say with a smile that you hope is carried through the language barrier, "I'll leave you to your celebrations."
=============
With a loud double-clunk that rings throughout your command pod, your Dragon Fly transport disengages its mag-clamps and releases your ACU. For a moment, you seem to hang in mid-air before, with a crunch of broken pavement, your mech slams to earth. Wincing sharply as a lance of self-recrimination burrows into your mind, you dismiss the feeling an instant later as you order your ACU to open up.
After all, compared to the loss of Hanoi, what's some broken stone?
Clambering out of your mech's command pod, you're greeted by the sight of dozens of men and women approaching your ACU; loud whoops and cheers accompanying the quickly swelling mass of people as pour toward you. Despite their outward enthusiasm and happiness, it doesn't take a genius to realise that these people are on edge at the news out of Hanoi and that they need something grab on to. Forcing yourself to smile, you step out onto your ACU's shoulder and wave at the men and women of Camp Mitian, a loud cheer rising to greet you.
Despite yourself, you feel your forced smile rapidly grow real and you fight to banish the pall of Hanoi's fall from your mind. Saving four million people from certain death is nothing to sneer at, after all.
Glancing up from the crowd, you spot a convoy of vehicles rapidly approaching in the distance; each one doubtless packed full of dignitaries who want photo opportunities or to get you on side, or military officials who want a proper debriefing on what happened on Taiwan.
Sighing, you begin the long climb down the side of your ACU as you think about what you're going to do next.
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OOC: Y'all rolled really well with this one and the FARO 'bots did
really badly. Also, as far as Hanoi's fall goes, you'll learn what exactly happened regardless of which option you chose but needless to say it did not go well.
As always, please let me know if there are any issues with this post or if you have any questions you'd like answered.
Relations Change:
Shanghai Cooperation Organization: Warm.
Choices:
[] Spend the remainder of the night meeting with dignitaries and subjecting yourself to photo-opportunities.
[] Debrief with military officials about the battle of Taiwan.
[] Spend the remaining hours celebrating with the soldiers of Camp Mitian.
[] Something Else Entirely [Write in]
