[X] - Stick with their platoon for a while. Assuming they'll be going into combat soon, they could use a bit of armored assistance to bulldoze through the Covie forces. Besides, you like them a lot. Especially cause they've got boose. You wonder if they perhaps 'requisitioned' the stuff from a nearby warehouse.
Tracks, Treads, and Tires - A Halo Quest
- Thread starter Donk
- Start date
- Sci-Fi
Donk
What a load of Donk.
- Location
- Ohio, U.S.A.
G A T T A I
I'm taking that as a vote to combine both votes? It would take longer, though.
- Location
- Philippines
[X] - Stick with their platoon for a while. Assuming they'll be going into combat soon, they could use a bit of armored assistance to bulldoze through the Covie forces. Besides, you like them a lot. Especially cause they've got boose. You wonder if they perhaps 'requisitioned' the stuff from a nearby warehouse.
Glint
Takina Inoue
- Location
- 『 』
Im greedy.
- Location
- Philippines
[X] - Stick with their platoon for a while. Assuming they'll be going into combat soon, they could use a bit of armored assistance to bulldoze through the Covie forces. Besides, you like them a lot. Especially cause they've got boose. You wonder if they perhaps 'requisitioned' the stuff from a nearby warehouse.
- Location
- Earth
[X] - Give their injured a ride back to the nearest company. They'd be in much better hands there, and you can spend ten minutes ferrying them there. It might get a bit bumpy, but it's a better option than leaving them there to bleed out.
Sounds like the best option to me; granted, the rest might get into another bout of problems once we are off, but MedEvac comes first.
Besides... if we are on limited time, then something will probably happen to our own platoon very soon. My bet is on a either a platoon of Wraiths or a Scarab saying hello.
Sounds like the best option to me; granted, the rest might get into another bout of problems once we are off, but MedEvac comes first.
Besides... if we are on limited time, then something will probably happen to our own platoon very soon. My bet is on a either a platoon of Wraiths or a Scarab saying hello.
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- Location
- U.A,E Abu Dhabi
[X] - Stick with their platoon for a while. Assuming they'll be going into combat soon, they could use a bit of armored assistance to bulldoze through the Covie forces. Besides, you like them a lot. Especially cause they've got boose. You wonder if they perhaps 'requisitioned' the stuff from a nearby warehouse.
1.04
Donk
What a load of Donk.
- Location
- Ohio, U.S.A.
[X] - Stick with their platoon for a while. Assuming they'll be going into combat soon, they could use a bit of armored assistance to bulldoze through the Covie forces. Besides, you like them a lot. Especially cause they've got boose. You wonder if they perhaps 'requisitioned' the stuff from a nearby warehouse. - 4 Votes
1.04
Hmm… "Gimme a sec, my dude," you say back to the man before shutting the hatch and diving into your HUD.
Contrary to popular opinion, the interior of Scorpions are rather spacious. Three screens take up the majority of the space, giving you all of the necessary information you need. Ammunition levels, hull integrity, cameras, and even your Troop status. Hell, you can even set one of them to show behind you. It's entirely possible to drive a Scorpion backwards… though you wouldn't recommend it. Ever. They had a course for it back in BT and it was awful.
From there it's simple to call the Eltee and inform him that you'll be linking up with these marines. He grumbles a bit before letting you go, understanding of your soft spot. Then you bring up the TACMAP and swipe the 323nd into your group. Military hardware is convenient sometimes. "Right," you say, opening up the hatch and looking up to the DMR-toting marine again. "Permission received to link up with you guys. Feel free to use me as cover." You give a thumbs up.
The marine's grin is visible through his small visor as he gives a thumbs up back. "Good to know we'll have some support. I'll inform the LT and we'll start moving out soon." You pause, wondering about something.
"Your wounded," you call out before he leaves. "Is there anyone to take evac them? Anybody sending a few troop hogs?" The soldier winces, waving his hand. "We'll be fine for now. They'll send someone soon, I hope. But for now we need to focus on arming up and giving the Covies a bloody nose in return." You nod before ducking back into the hatch and turn the Scorpion around to face the front. Several minutes pass and you take the well deserved break by pulling off your full-helmet. Sure, you love the thing but it gets a bit humid after a while.
At least the bourbon tastes good, as lukewarm as it is. You cherish a few swigs before stashing it away into your 'secret' compartment.
Eventually it seems the marines are ready to roll out, diminished as they have been. You oblige them by letting the engine of Rites roar its displeasure. Some of them perk up at that, grateful to have a tank on their side. Contact is light as you and the troops push forwards through the streets of Aggregate. Too light. Have the Covies retreated? Normally most urban combat is a slog to push the entrenched Covenant out, but this is too easy.
"Ksshhrrrt…" A static calls over your radio. "This is-" it cuts out again. "Admiral Sinatra, broadcasting to any receiving this message. An enemy frigate has made its way past the blockade. Expect it to make planet side ASAP." You instantly grimace. Space battle has never been a winning side for the UNSC, and whatever mess that is fucking with your communications is making it worse. Normally the ground troops would have time to prepare for an incoming ship, but now?
High over the skies of Aggregate it appears. Shark-like and bulbous, the purple mass glides through the air unimpeded. Several missiles streak towards it, but only a few manage to make it past the point defense lasers and explode harmlessly on its shield. Plasma torpedoes streak from the enemy frigate, striking strategic UNSC positions. You hope they died quickly. But the enemy isn't done, as a hatch opens beneath the ship and… your worst fear drops from within'.
Normally, Scorpions and Wraiths have roughly equal footing when it comes to battling one another. But, like always, the Covies managed to pull another bullshit weapon free from their cantankerous rear ends. A Scarab is a heavily armored, heavily armed four legged troop carrier. Basically a giant fuck-off mech that crushes anything in its way. You've had experience with these bastards before, and it's never been pretty.
The Scarab lands with a shockwave, destroying any of the little remaining glass. Good thing you have a helmet and are in a cockpit.
Instantly it begins moving, strange legs navigating over the hazardous terrain that constitutes the half-broken freeway that runs through the city. You watch as the enemy frigate above flees, being chased by a friendly pair of destroyers. Too late. Panicked voices rise over the communal channel before you switch them off. "Eltee, you got any ideas?" You ask your superior, already taking cover behind a building as the Scarab charges its main weapon. A cannon much bigger than your cannon.
"We've got Scorpions in position around it. Luckily that thing can only aim at a few things at a time, so we should be able to flank it easy. Stick to cover and try to get a good shot. I shouldn't have to explain more. I've got enough on my hands with the rookies panicking." You nod wisely, before cutting the channel.
Contacting your platoon of infantry, you speak up to them. "William, do you have any heavy ordinance? Missile pods? I'll take standard rockets if you've got them. Oh, and inform your troops that if they do fire, aim for the joints. Those are the weakest parts of its armor." Several moments pass as the radioman takes in the information. "Roger that, Bronco." He cuts off again, thinking things over. "We've can set up one pod. Other than that we've got three rocketmen with available ammunition."
"Stick to the shadows and don't let that thing get a bead on your men." You say, before driving Last Rites into full gear. "I've got a plan."
What is your plan?
[] - Get its attention and run like hell. Scarabs are notably slow turners, and you should be able to run laps around it in your Scorpion. It may be a tank, but the thing has a surprisingly fast engine. You just hope you won't get shot in the meantime. Big risk, big reward. Oh and you might get spotted by infantry or enemy Wraiths. Hope that doesn't happen. Should give enough time for the platoon and your troop to get ready.
[] - This is a stealth mission, Bronco. Thankfully it's landed in the industrial area. There are plenty of buildings that can offer sufficient cover to hide your sixty-six ton stealth machine. Sure, without a target to focus on the Scarab will be all that much likelier to target your comrades, but that's what they'll have to deal with. If you can get a clear shot you'll be able to take down a joint by yourself. Good thing you brought AP.
[] - CHEEKI BREEKI. Some say the Crazy Ivan maneuver is impossible to do in a tank. Those people aren't you. Scarabs are bad at close range, so you should be able to charge the fucker and start hosing the enemies on board the Scarab. Sure, you'll be highly exposed, and sure, the legs could crush you. But you trust in your machine and your reflexes. You just wish you had some vodka.
[] - Write in.
Turns out Naron was right on the mark. You get a donk-point. (Note: donk-points are not recognized as legal tender at any location in the world.)
1.04
Hmm… "Gimme a sec, my dude," you say back to the man before shutting the hatch and diving into your HUD.
Contrary to popular opinion, the interior of Scorpions are rather spacious. Three screens take up the majority of the space, giving you all of the necessary information you need. Ammunition levels, hull integrity, cameras, and even your Troop status. Hell, you can even set one of them to show behind you. It's entirely possible to drive a Scorpion backwards… though you wouldn't recommend it. Ever. They had a course for it back in BT and it was awful.
From there it's simple to call the Eltee and inform him that you'll be linking up with these marines. He grumbles a bit before letting you go, understanding of your soft spot. Then you bring up the TACMAP and swipe the 323nd into your group. Military hardware is convenient sometimes. "Right," you say, opening up the hatch and looking up to the DMR-toting marine again. "Permission received to link up with you guys. Feel free to use me as cover." You give a thumbs up.
The marine's grin is visible through his small visor as he gives a thumbs up back. "Good to know we'll have some support. I'll inform the LT and we'll start moving out soon." You pause, wondering about something.
"Your wounded," you call out before he leaves. "Is there anyone to take evac them? Anybody sending a few troop hogs?" The soldier winces, waving his hand. "We'll be fine for now. They'll send someone soon, I hope. But for now we need to focus on arming up and giving the Covies a bloody nose in return." You nod before ducking back into the hatch and turn the Scorpion around to face the front. Several minutes pass and you take the well deserved break by pulling off your full-helmet. Sure, you love the thing but it gets a bit humid after a while.
At least the bourbon tastes good, as lukewarm as it is. You cherish a few swigs before stashing it away into your 'secret' compartment.
Eventually it seems the marines are ready to roll out, diminished as they have been. You oblige them by letting the engine of Rites roar its displeasure. Some of them perk up at that, grateful to have a tank on their side. Contact is light as you and the troops push forwards through the streets of Aggregate. Too light. Have the Covies retreated? Normally most urban combat is a slog to push the entrenched Covenant out, but this is too easy.
"Ksshhrrrt…" A static calls over your radio. "This is-" it cuts out again. "Admiral Sinatra, broadcasting to any receiving this message. An enemy frigate has made its way past the blockade. Expect it to make planet side ASAP." You instantly grimace. Space battle has never been a winning side for the UNSC, and whatever mess that is fucking with your communications is making it worse. Normally the ground troops would have time to prepare for an incoming ship, but now?
High over the skies of Aggregate it appears. Shark-like and bulbous, the purple mass glides through the air unimpeded. Several missiles streak towards it, but only a few manage to make it past the point defense lasers and explode harmlessly on its shield. Plasma torpedoes streak from the enemy frigate, striking strategic UNSC positions. You hope they died quickly. But the enemy isn't done, as a hatch opens beneath the ship and… your worst fear drops from within'.
Normally, Scorpions and Wraiths have roughly equal footing when it comes to battling one another. But, like always, the Covies managed to pull another bullshit weapon free from their cantankerous rear ends. A Scarab is a heavily armored, heavily armed four legged troop carrier. Basically a giant fuck-off mech that crushes anything in its way. You've had experience with these bastards before, and it's never been pretty.
The Scarab lands with a shockwave, destroying any of the little remaining glass. Good thing you have a helmet and are in a cockpit.
Instantly it begins moving, strange legs navigating over the hazardous terrain that constitutes the half-broken freeway that runs through the city. You watch as the enemy frigate above flees, being chased by a friendly pair of destroyers. Too late. Panicked voices rise over the communal channel before you switch them off. "Eltee, you got any ideas?" You ask your superior, already taking cover behind a building as the Scarab charges its main weapon. A cannon much bigger than your cannon.
"We've got Scorpions in position around it. Luckily that thing can only aim at a few things at a time, so we should be able to flank it easy. Stick to cover and try to get a good shot. I shouldn't have to explain more. I've got enough on my hands with the rookies panicking." You nod wisely, before cutting the channel.
Contacting your platoon of infantry, you speak up to them. "William, do you have any heavy ordinance? Missile pods? I'll take standard rockets if you've got them. Oh, and inform your troops that if they do fire, aim for the joints. Those are the weakest parts of its armor." Several moments pass as the radioman takes in the information. "Roger that, Bronco." He cuts off again, thinking things over. "We've can set up one pod. Other than that we've got three rocketmen with available ammunition."
"Stick to the shadows and don't let that thing get a bead on your men." You say, before driving Last Rites into full gear. "I've got a plan."
What is your plan?
[] - Get its attention and run like hell. Scarabs are notably slow turners, and you should be able to run laps around it in your Scorpion. It may be a tank, but the thing has a surprisingly fast engine. You just hope you won't get shot in the meantime. Big risk, big reward. Oh and you might get spotted by infantry or enemy Wraiths. Hope that doesn't happen. Should give enough time for the platoon and your troop to get ready.
[] - This is a stealth mission, Bronco. Thankfully it's landed in the industrial area. There are plenty of buildings that can offer sufficient cover to hide your sixty-six ton stealth machine. Sure, without a target to focus on the Scarab will be all that much likelier to target your comrades, but that's what they'll have to deal with. If you can get a clear shot you'll be able to take down a joint by yourself. Good thing you brought AP.
[] - CHEEKI BREEKI. Some say the Crazy Ivan maneuver is impossible to do in a tank. Those people aren't you. Scarabs are bad at close range, so you should be able to charge the fucker and start hosing the enemies on board the Scarab. Sure, you'll be highly exposed, and sure, the legs could crush you. But you trust in your machine and your reflexes. You just wish you had some vodka.
[] - Write in.
Turns out Naron was right on the mark. You get a donk-point. (Note: donk-points are not recognized as legal tender at any location in the world.)
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[X] - Write In: Get its attention and stand your ground. try to get the thing to aim at us, and then when it starts charging up its massive front cannon, fire an AP shot directly into into it, undoubtedly crippling the weapon while the marines get ready to attack its legs.
We've got a 120mm cannon with armor piercing ammo, and I kind of doubt that the scarab's gun is sturdy enough to withstand that sort of firepower. Big risk, big reward is the name of the game.
We've got a 120mm cannon with armor piercing ammo, and I kind of doubt that the scarab's gun is sturdy enough to withstand that sort of firepower. Big risk, big reward is the name of the game.
Last edited:
Night_stalker
Slava Ukraini!
- Pronouns
- He/Him
[X] - Write In: Get its attention and stand your ground. try to get the thing to aim at us, and then when it starts charging up its massive front cannon, fire an AP shot directly into into it, undoubtedly crippling the weapon while the marines get ready to attack its legs.
- Location
- va
[X] - CHEEKI BREEKI.
the name is just asking for it
the name is just asking for it
- Location
- Philippines
[X] - Write In: Get its attention and stand your ground. try to get the thing to aim at us, and then when it starts charging up its massive front cannon, fire an AP shot directly into into it, undoubtedly crippling the weapon while the marines get ready to attack its legs.
- Location
- Earth
Ahem. Called it.
[X] - Write In: Get its attention and stand your ground. try to get the thing to aim at us, and then when it starts charging up its massive front cannon, fire an AP shot directly into into it, undoubtedly crippling the weapon while the marines get ready to attack its legs.
[X] - Write In: Get its attention and stand your ground. try to get the thing to aim at us, and then when it starts charging up its massive front cannon, fire an AP shot directly into into it, undoubtedly crippling the weapon while the marines get ready to attack its legs.
ConfusedPotato
Unverified Verifier
- Location
- Australia
[X] - Write In: Get its attention and stand your ground. try to get the thing to aim at us, and then when it starts charging up its massive front cannon, fire an AP shot directly into it, undoubtedly crippling the weapon while the marines get ready to attack its legs.
1.05
Donk
What a load of Donk.
- Location
- Ohio, U.S.A.
[X] - Write In: Get its attention and stand your ground. try to get the thing to aim at us, and then when it starts charging up its massive front cannon, fire an AP shot directly into into it, undoubtedly crippling the weapon while the marines get ready to attack its legs. - 5 Votes
1.05
For a moment you consider doing something crazy like pulling off a Crazy Ivan in a tank, but you forgo that plan for a somewhat less crazy one.
"This is Bronco-06," you say to your commanding officer as you drive into the open. "I've got a plan." For a second the Lieutenant doesn't respond, likely contemplating hard alcohol. "I haven't drunk enough to forget the last plan you had involving a Scarab, Rites. Please tell me it's not like last time. We had to cut through your melted hatch to pull you out."
Harsh, Eltee. Harsh. You don't need a reminder of that.
Making sure your vessel is ready for action, you respond with a hasty, "No, no. Nothing like that. This time I'm gonna shoot it."
"Shoot it?" He asks gruffly. "I know your cannon is bigger than mine but you don't have to compensate for your lack down there." Pride levels dropping. Eject. Eject. Eject. With a shake of your head you pull Last Rites into a clear shot against the Scarab. For a moment it doesn't notice you, but a quick spray of your machine gun fixes that. "Shit," Sear grunts, knowing what you're doing. "You do know what'll happen if you miss, right?"
Energy begins gathering on the prow of the Scarab, illuminating the surroundings with harsh green light.
"I don't intend to miss, boss." You grin, hands grasped around the trigger. You've gotta have perfect timing on this part. A slipup could spell a quick and messy death. A drop of sweat drips down your BDU, arousing a shiver. Even as several of the hull-mounted plasma turrets begin washing your position with globs of plasma, you hold your ground. The whirring sound rises over the clamor of gunfire before climaxing (in a totally not gay way).
With that signal you fire your Scorpion's cannon at the maw of the Scarab. Your scorpion's stinger beats the scarab's pincers. An explosion erupts along the main gun, fragmenting various bits of the fragile mechanism. The power fluctuates, unable to deal with the sudden catastrophic failure. But unfortunately even your powerful gun can't completely destroy it with one shot.
A wave of plasma rides towards your position, but fortunately for you it is much less compact than usual, the containment method failing.
You grit your teeth and lean into the turn (as ineffectual as it is), urging your tank to move. Just a bit too slow. Things heat up as some of the plasma washes over Last Rites. The hull shakes and warning sirens blare, signalling damage in your port bow side. "Yeah. Fuck Covenant engineering," you call to your commanding officer, cursing up a storm as you maneuver the vehicle into better cover. "You guys ready yet?"
Instead of a message, you receive the most beautiful sound in the world. Half a dozen Scorpion cannons going off.
Seconds later there's the sound of SPNKRs releasing their payloads, explosions blossoming along the side of the Scorpion as you take a quick peek. Two of its legs are crippled, while many of its hull turret emplacements are busted. Then you hear the second most beautiful sound in the world. Your autoloaders just finished slotting a new round into place. A vicious grin makes its way onto your face as you align the gun once more.
Krak-THOOM!
There we go. With a second round, the main gun of the Scarab is taken out of action. The armor-piercing shell rips through machinery and mechanics alike, striking the cannon at an angle and smashing most of it aside. Good thing these bastards don't have shields on their mechs.
From there it's a simple cleanup operation that involves shooting the fuck out of the Scarab. Repeatedly.
"Well, that could've got worse," you say finally as your Troop gathers around the remains of the Scarab. The others stare at you with various looks as they depolarize their helmets. "What?" You ask, shrugging your arms and pointing at the dead assault platform. "I got the job done, didn't I?" More stares. Then, your LT gestures to the side of your tank. Your head turns ever so slightly. "Oh…" As it turns out, the shot did a number on Last Rites. Most of the metal on your side is warped and half-melted, still functional but...
Your baby got hurt. Disfigured. Crippled. Sullied.
...after several frantic minutes of mourning and despair, your group manages to pull your tear-riddled form from the tank and calm you down. Thankfully, the majority of the damage is merely cosmetic. With a few on-field repairs, your treads are raring to go. And back unto the front you must. You don't have the time to sit around and while you've been mourning the covies have beenstudying the blade- digging in.
[NEW MISSION]: Assault the Covenant HQ.
How do you go about things? The rest of the UNSC is making a push towards the center of Aggregate, where the bulk of the Covenant forces await. You get to go along for the ride.
[] - Take things slow. Your ride is injured, and Last Rites has enough battle damage for one day. The rest of your troop can take the bulk of the burden, while you sit back and drink some of this bourbon. Oh and gun down some harmless grunts. All in a good day's work.
[] - HOLD MY BEER I GOTTA KILL COVIES. Yeah, Rites may look a little… melted, but she's basically in prime condition. You've got three fourths of your ammunition remaining and that's gotta fix itself real quick. If you don't give away tungsten shells, who will?
[] - Let's be reasonab- pffft. Wait, you're serious? Fiiine. You can be reasonable. Stick with your troop and keep wary, but don't be afraid to cap a few covies. The middling option for boring people.
[] - Write in.
Apologies for the wait folks, but had some Real Life ™ issues to be taken care of. Expect another post this evening.
1.05
For a moment you consider doing something crazy like pulling off a Crazy Ivan in a tank, but you forgo that plan for a somewhat less crazy one.
"This is Bronco-06," you say to your commanding officer as you drive into the open. "I've got a plan." For a second the Lieutenant doesn't respond, likely contemplating hard alcohol. "I haven't drunk enough to forget the last plan you had involving a Scarab, Rites. Please tell me it's not like last time. We had to cut through your melted hatch to pull you out."
Harsh, Eltee. Harsh. You don't need a reminder of that.
Making sure your vessel is ready for action, you respond with a hasty, "No, no. Nothing like that. This time I'm gonna shoot it."
"Shoot it?" He asks gruffly. "I know your cannon is bigger than mine but you don't have to compensate for your lack down there." Pride levels dropping. Eject. Eject. Eject. With a shake of your head you pull Last Rites into a clear shot against the Scarab. For a moment it doesn't notice you, but a quick spray of your machine gun fixes that. "Shit," Sear grunts, knowing what you're doing. "You do know what'll happen if you miss, right?"
Energy begins gathering on the prow of the Scarab, illuminating the surroundings with harsh green light.
"I don't intend to miss, boss." You grin, hands grasped around the trigger. You've gotta have perfect timing on this part. A slipup could spell a quick and messy death. A drop of sweat drips down your BDU, arousing a shiver. Even as several of the hull-mounted plasma turrets begin washing your position with globs of plasma, you hold your ground. The whirring sound rises over the clamor of gunfire before climaxing (in a totally not gay way).
With that signal you fire your Scorpion's cannon at the maw of the Scarab. Your scorpion's stinger beats the scarab's pincers. An explosion erupts along the main gun, fragmenting various bits of the fragile mechanism. The power fluctuates, unable to deal with the sudden catastrophic failure. But unfortunately even your powerful gun can't completely destroy it with one shot.
A wave of plasma rides towards your position, but fortunately for you it is much less compact than usual, the containment method failing.
You grit your teeth and lean into the turn (as ineffectual as it is), urging your tank to move. Just a bit too slow. Things heat up as some of the plasma washes over Last Rites. The hull shakes and warning sirens blare, signalling damage in your port bow side. "Yeah. Fuck Covenant engineering," you call to your commanding officer, cursing up a storm as you maneuver the vehicle into better cover. "You guys ready yet?"
Instead of a message, you receive the most beautiful sound in the world. Half a dozen Scorpion cannons going off.
Seconds later there's the sound of SPNKRs releasing their payloads, explosions blossoming along the side of the Scorpion as you take a quick peek. Two of its legs are crippled, while many of its hull turret emplacements are busted. Then you hear the second most beautiful sound in the world. Your autoloaders just finished slotting a new round into place. A vicious grin makes its way onto your face as you align the gun once more.
Krak-THOOM!
There we go. With a second round, the main gun of the Scarab is taken out of action. The armor-piercing shell rips through machinery and mechanics alike, striking the cannon at an angle and smashing most of it aside. Good thing these bastards don't have shields on their mechs.
From there it's a simple cleanup operation that involves shooting the fuck out of the Scarab. Repeatedly.
"Well, that could've got worse," you say finally as your Troop gathers around the remains of the Scarab. The others stare at you with various looks as they depolarize their helmets. "What?" You ask, shrugging your arms and pointing at the dead assault platform. "I got the job done, didn't I?" More stares. Then, your LT gestures to the side of your tank. Your head turns ever so slightly. "Oh…" As it turns out, the shot did a number on Last Rites. Most of the metal on your side is warped and half-melted, still functional but...
Your baby got hurt. Disfigured. Crippled. Sullied.
...after several frantic minutes of mourning and despair, your group manages to pull your tear-riddled form from the tank and calm you down. Thankfully, the majority of the damage is merely cosmetic. With a few on-field repairs, your treads are raring to go. And back unto the front you must. You don't have the time to sit around and while you've been mourning the covies have been
[NEW MISSION]: Assault the Covenant HQ.
How do you go about things? The rest of the UNSC is making a push towards the center of Aggregate, where the bulk of the Covenant forces await. You get to go along for the ride.
[] - Take things slow. Your ride is injured, and Last Rites has enough battle damage for one day. The rest of your troop can take the bulk of the burden, while you sit back and drink some of this bourbon. Oh and gun down some harmless grunts. All in a good day's work.
[] - HOLD MY BEER I GOTTA KILL COVIES. Yeah, Rites may look a little… melted, but she's basically in prime condition. You've got three fourths of your ammunition remaining and that's gotta fix itself real quick. If you don't give away tungsten shells, who will?
[] - Let's be reasonab- pffft. Wait, you're serious? Fiiine. You can be reasonable. Stick with your troop and keep wary, but don't be afraid to cap a few covies. The middling option for boring people.
[] - Write in.
Apologies for the wait folks, but had some Real Life ™ issues to be taken care of. Expect another post this evening.
Night_stalker
Slava Ukraini!
- Pronouns
- He/Him
[X] - HOLD MY BEER I GOTTA KILL COVIES. Yeah, Rites may look a little… melted, but she's basically in prime condition. You've got three fourths of your ammunition remaining and that's gotta fix itself real quick. If you don't give away tungsten shells, who will?
- Location
- Earth
No, thank you. Not taking the Shiny Way of Doom today.
[X] - Let's be reasonab- pffft. Wait, you're serious? Fiiine. You can be reasonable. Stick with your troop and keep wary, but don't be afraid to cap a few covies. The middling option for boring people.
Seriously, rushing in alone sounds like a really bad idea.
On the other hand, we will probably arrive faster and give the enemy less time to entrench... but they already did so anyway. Yup, I am staying with this.
[X] - Let's be reasonab- pffft. Wait, you're serious? Fiiine. You can be reasonable. Stick with your troop and keep wary, but don't be afraid to cap a few covies. The middling option for boring people.
Seriously, rushing in alone sounds like a really bad idea.
On the other hand, we will probably arrive faster and give the enemy less time to entrench... but they already did so anyway. Yup, I am staying with this.
- Location
- Philippines
[X] - Let's be reasonab- pffft. Wait, you're serious? Fiiine. You can be reasonable. Stick with your troop and keep wary, but don't be afraid to cap a few covies. The middling option for boring people.
ConfusedPotato
Unverified Verifier
- Location
- Australia
[X] - Let's be reasonab- pffft. Wait, you're serious? Fiiine. You can be reasonable. Stick with your troop and keep wary, but don't be afraid to cap a few covies. The middling option for boring people.
- Location
- va
[X] - Let's be reasonab- pffft. Wait, you're serious? Fiiine. You can be reasonable. Stick with your troop and keep wary, but don't be afraid to cap a few covies. The middling option for boring people.
Glint
Takina Inoue
- Location
- 『 』
[X] - HOLD MY BEER I GOTTA KILL COVIES. Yeah, Rites may look a little… melted, but she's basically in prime condition. You've got three fourths of your ammunition remaining and that's gotta fix itself real quick. If you don't give away tungsten shells, who will?
Pft only one option for me.
Pft only one option for me.