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PostPosted: Thu Oct 02, 2014 9:55 pm 
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PostPosted: Fri Oct 03, 2014 6:42 pm 

PLaying SQUAD with TASQ

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The Enforcer barracks were old canvas tents. The canvas was constantly aired out and had faded to a light grayish green color over the years. The men who lived in the tents were Boss Neiro's Enforcers. The general-purpose tent, originally designed to hold twenty-one cots for a platoon of soldiers in the field, was now home to twenty Enforcers working for Boss Neiro. There were seven each sixteen feet by thirty-two foot tents built upon plywood and two-by-four construction foundations. Five of these tents were used as sleeping quarters while the remaining two were used as a dining facility/kitchen and an operations office where missions were planned and presented to the Enforcers.

Zilard Pek woke up with the sun like most mornings. He stumbled out the back door of the tent in just his pants and a T-shirt. He made his way, barefoot to the wooden outhouses to relieve himself. The sun's rays reached across the landscape warming up the sand and mountains. Zilard felt the most alive in the morning. This was the best time of day, when he was all alone. The cooler nighttime temperatures already dissipating, making way for the arid heat due in at midday. To Zilard, the midday heat never really bothered him as much as the overnight lows. Maybe it was his Shyiine bloodline. He didn't know, just that he was perfectly comfortable in the heat, even when the humans complained about needing more water.

As he sat on the plastic seat focused on his morning constitutional, Zilard listened to the wild dogs howling in the distance. It was uncommon for them to be out this time of the morning, no doubt they had an early morning kill, some unfortunate prey would make for the pack's breakfast. That is survival in the Voidlands. Not just for the desert wolves and Scarab Sheep who lived on the fringes, but for the bipedal creatures who resided in built up areas like Dogton.

Zilard didn't give it much thought. It was life. It was how things were. Predators and prey. A fight for survival.

He returned inside the tent and his bunk. Most of the men were still snoring. A few others were up, puttering about. No one from this tent were on the night shift. That was a different platoon. Zilard finished dressing, putting his boots and vest on. His assault vest hung from a hook on the side of the tent over his bunk. He used the assault vest on patrols and missions. It contained two one-quart canteens, a butt pack with a weapons cleaning supplies, a rag, a small tool bag, a fifty-foot length of 7mm nylon rope, a 200-foot length of 3mm nylon cord, electrical tape and a ration. In front of the vest were various ammo pouches arranged symmetrically along the waist and chest. The vest contained his standard '0000' quadruple aught 8-gauge buckshot and various flechette styled bird shot. Each cartridge contained twenty dart-sized projectiles that scattered from the muzzle when fired. It was very effective against a bunched up group of bandits at close range. It was not something one would use at distance. In fact, Zilard never considered using the Close Assault Weapon System (CAWS) at greater than a hundred meters. Other pouches contained 10-round magazines for the 11mm pistol he wore at his side. That had a holster all its own, hung low strapped to his outer right thigh.

He holstered his Grick sidearm after inserting a magazine, no round in the chamber. The scabbard for his Kilij Scimitar rested across his right shoulder, carried on his back. The Tanto dagger at his right hip behind the holster and finally the M90 CAWS slung low on the right side and toward the rear, safety engaged. Zilard finally put on his leather 'half-gloves'. They allowed for fingertips free to perform dexterous activities with protection for the palm and back of hands. He slipped his goggles over his head, lowered down to his throat.

His bed made, he wandered over to the kitchen tent to see what was happening. A few of the men were sitting around drinking the sludge or coffee if you will. It was palatable. For Zilard, it was all he knew and tasted just fine. He picked up a plate and scooped out the yellow substance known as scrambled eggs, a slice of toast, a sausage and a mug of sludge. He wasn't friendly with any of the morning crew, choosing a seat by himself.

Just as he placed the first morsel of food into his mouth, Viyr, Boss Neiro's pasty-faced machinae entered the tent. The cyborg fixed his yellow eyes on Zilard Pek and headed right for his table. Zilard was only concerned about eating his meal.

"Lizard," Viyr used the nickname the Boss used. "Boss Neiro has requested your presence in his office ASAP."

Zilard sipped the coffee, lowered his mug, and looked up at the pasty cyborg, "Did he say what it was about?"

Almost monotone in its free from empathetic tone, "you are to escort Mercenary Kaitar into the Voidlands. Special job. Very special." Viyr watched Zilard as he resumed drinking his coffee, eating toast. Zilard did not get up right away. "He would send me, but he needs me here. He and I have work to do." Unnecessary gibberish to Zilard Pek, but Boss Neiro mentioned this in the same thought. The Cyborg uttered the irrelevant information as well.

"Yea, yea, yea," Zilard continued to eat his breakfast. "I'll be along shortly." Zilard didn't waste too many words with the Machinae. He had every intention of eating. He continued to shovel food into his mouth, but not moving with a sense of purpose.

Viyr gave no appearance, or acknowledgement. He watched the half breed eat his breakfast and then registered a degree of apathy. Viyr faced about and hastily exited the tent to return to Boss Neiro.

'Great, I get to work with Kaitar,' Zilard thought to himself. The man was caustic. At least they wouldn't have to worry about noise discipline. Kaitar hardly ever said a word. Zilard was fine with that. If Zilard Pek thought hard enough, he may recall that it was Kaitar who once referred to him as Kitazot, the Shyiine word for outcast or Kita for short. Zilard didn't mind. At least he acknowledged the fact he was half Shyiine. Zilard felt like an outcast living amongst the humans and would undoubtedly be an outcast living among the Shyiine. He didn't feel welcome anywhere except in his mother's home and in the employ of Boss Neiro. The Boss kept him around for his gift. Neiro took advantage of Lizard on occasion, especially if an Enforcer came back from a patrol half-dead. Unbeknownst to Zilard, his mother had some relationship with the boss neither would mention.

When breakfast was finished, Zilard cleared his table, picked up his shotgun and Kilij Scimitar then slung them over his shoulders. He pushed his chair back in and headed to Boss Neiro's office.

Along the way, he passed Zres and Kligger. "Hey Zres, how's it going?" Zilard called to the young Enforcer.

Zres mumbled something under his breath.

"What was that?" Zilard called back.

"**** off, half breed!" Zres called out to Zilard.

Zilard chuckled as he walked by and headed into Boss Neiro's office.

"Lizard!" Boss Neiro yelled at the half Shiiyne half human soldier annoyed at his tardiness. "Where have you been?! When I call for you, I expect you to come right away!"

Zilard knew Viyr would have told the Boss about him wanting to eat his breakfast, so it wouldn't make sense to lie. "I was eating breakfast, boss."

Boss Neiro reluctantly consented, "Fine. Now listen up Bora-Demir. I have a job I want you to do. Take a seat."

A broken wooden chair against a wall was the only place to sit. Zilard looked at it quickly, having sat in it before. "No thanks, I prefer to stand."

"Suit yourself." Boss Neiro sat down, pulled out a cigarette and lighter. He puffed on the thin cigarette. "I hired Kaitar to check up on a caravan heading into Dogton. The caravan never made it. There are some essential items in one of the wagons. I need it here, yesterday." Neiro took a drag on the cigarette, tapped the ashes onto the floor and continued. "That useless Shyiine lost my caravan." The Boss was visibly annoyed when he spoke about the lost caravan.

With the use of the term useless, Zilard cringed slightly. After all, he was part shyiine. He never quite understood why humans held onto their weak-minded ideas, stereotypes about the Shyiines. Zilard found it disturbing whenever he heard one. Neiro was full of them and full of it.

Boss Neiro went on with the disappearing caravan story. "He claims a group of bandits known as the Az'bedar attacked the convoy and took everything into the Voildlands. Az'bedar is a Shyiine group who use the symbol of the Scorpion to mark their territory." Neiro took another drag on his cigarette and tapped the ashes upon the floor. "You've heard of them?"

Zilard nodded grimly.

"Kaitar wasn't too pleased either." Neiro recognized Zilard's expression but needed him to go either way. "Suck it up, Lizard. You are going to find that caravan with or without the mercenary's help. I would prefer he go with you, but in the event he declines my rather persuasive offer, I may give you the side mission of taking out the garbage if you get my hint."

'Wow! This jackass is incredible.' Zilard thought to himself. 'How many years has he employed Kaitar? I don't blame the Mercenary for not wanting to go into the Shy'war-Anquai. That is the worst place ever. No one but true Shyiine warriors go there. That is a death knell for any of us. Whatever is in that caravan must be pretty damn important.'

"What's in that caravan? Your dead father?" Zilard blurted out, lacking empathy.

"Why I oughtta!" Boss Neiro rose up out of his chair as if he was about to hit Zilard Pek. He quickly regained his composure and took his seat. "What is it with you maggots claiming my dead parents are in some God damned caravan!?"

"Any way, you are going to retrieve that caravan. Kill the bandits and bring my people back to me. You got it!?"

"Yea, I got it. Can I take Rooster and Zres with me?" Zilard asked.

"Leave Zres alone. You can take Rooster and Whitey."

"Ok, Boss," Zilard was placid about the job itself. His calmness over the job was more about his companion than the actual mission. He was not concerned about dying. He believed the Shyiine mercenary knew how to survive in the desert. He was looking forward to learning as much as he could from Kaitar. He grew up around humans and he finally had an opportunity to spend some time with a true Shyiine. He was filled with a small amount of excitement because studying the Shyiine was one of his favorite pastimes, but that excitement was tempered by his knowledge of Kaitar's personality. Zilard believed that they could get past that. He believed that by merely observing the Shyiine, he could learn a great deal. Besides, they would just carry extra water.

Boss Neiro looked at Zilard. "So, how much you take from Zres last night?"

"Twenty," the Enforcer responded. Zilard enjoys a nightly game of poker with a few of the others. Last night was a good night for Mr. Pek.

"He must be ****," Boss Neiro smiled.

"He told me to **** off this morning," Zilard smiled while telling the boss. "So what time are we leaving?" Zilard asked.

_________________
I am playing no game. I am writing a story that maybe a few of you will enjoy.
I am in Eastern Standard Time zone (GMT -5)
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My Characters
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Galileo Corporation
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Bakushima; Fantasy Feudal Japan

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Attitude | +
"The longer I live, the more I realize the impact of attitude on life. Attitude to me is more important than facts. It is more important than the past, than education, than money, than circumstances, than failures, than success, than what other people think or say or do. It is more important than appearance, gift, or skill. It will make or break a company...a church...a home. The remarkable thing is we have a choice every day regarding the attitude we will embrace for that day. We cannot change our past...we cannot change the fact that people will act in a certain way. We cannot change the inevitable. The only thing we can do is play on the string we have, and that is our attitude. I am convinced that life is 10 percent what happens to me and 90 percent how I react to it. And so it is with you... we are in charge of our attitudes. "
~ Charles Swindoll


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PostPosted: Fri Oct 03, 2014 9:07 pm 
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PostPosted: Sat Oct 04, 2014 12:13 pm 

PLaying SQUAD with TASQ

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Since Zilard's job was to handle personal assignments by the Boss, he didn't have anything specific to do until 2000 hours. His current job would start tomorrow morning. This evening, he would meet Kaitar and prepare for their sojourn through the desert.

The Enforcers had a gym for lack of a better word for it. It was the standard plywood and two-by-four construction with galvanized steel roofing. It looked like a Quonset hut. The weights were whatever the group could get their hands on, to include repurposed steel poles. Several items jerry rigged together to work as a workout room.

However, Zil wasn't interested in lifting weights today. Someone had hung a heavy bag from the ceiling. The bag was made of goat hide and filled with old rags. It was tied to the floor to prevent it from moving too much. A little play was fine. There were a few old pairs of gloves that folks shared; not enough for everyone.

Warrior's Call playing on the boom box.
Zil removed his boots and socks, vest and weapons. He stood barefoot with a sleeveless T-shirt on. He pulled on the left glove, fastened it and then the right and fastened with his teeth. He stood in front of the bag and jumped up and down. He moved his legs in and out and performed several repetitions of jumping jacks. His moved his feet back and forth alternating left and right or an exercise called scissor jacks. After about three minutes of jumping, he stopped and began performing squats. He lowered himself so that his thighs were parallel to the floor and then returned to the starting position. He continued with the squats for ninety seconds then went down and held it for forty-five seconds. After doing squats with the occasional hold for three minutes, he stopped and began doing burpees. He squatted down with hands on the floor, then thrust his legs out behind him into the push-up position. With the gloves on, the weight is on the fists, rather than flat hands. He performed one push-up and then brought his legs back next to his hands. Then he stood up, jumped up and repeated the exercise. He continued to do burpees for three minutes. Once he completed this warm up, that took roughly ten minutes, he drank some water and returned to the bag.

The bag work out was intense. As a right-handed person, he led with his left. His left would jab and then cross with his right. Jab, Cross, Jab, Cross and reset. Jab, cross, jab, cross and reset. He repeated this process several times insuring to keep his gloves up the entire set; which lasted three minutes. He focused on his technique as well as power. He pivoted on his feet and lead with his shoulders on each punch. His upper torso rotated while punching left, right, left, right. The rear foot gives off the impression of stamping out a cigarette on the ground up on the ball of the foot. Hitting muscle failure means that every exercise following that point is building muscle and strength.

Next, he struck the pad, Jab, Cross, Hook, Cross, dropped back to create some distance, pivot on his left foot, left toes pointing to the left, leaned back slightly, swung his right arm back, making sure to keep his left arm up executed a right round house or round kick into the heavy bag. He chambered his right leg, with the lower leg bent and just before impact, whipped his lower leg extending the foot into the pad. The front of the ankle or lower shin is the point of contact. He repeated the process, jab, cross, hook, and round kick several more times. He finished this set after three minutes. Then dropped and performed fifty push-ups.

He stood back up in front of the bag, gave two jabs, slipped his head by ducking as if someone were trying to punch him and then delivered a devastating right cross. Two jabs, slip, right cross, change step into a left cross, slip, right jab. The change step is a hop that moves the feet so that now the right foot was in front. He continued to perform this drill for another three minutes. When this was complete, he dropped and knocked out another fifty push-ups. Zilard would remain in the gym exercising his shoulders and legs for at least two hours. He really wanted a partner to hold pads for him. Then he could train on various punching combinations.

When his routine ended, he dropped off the gloves, toweled off, put his shoes and socks back on and returned his equipment to their normal carrying position. He would return to the barracks to clean his shotgun.

Next stop, the Enforcers armory to see the armorer. Several weapons remained in the arms room if they were not needed during daily operations. Zil was interested in an assault rifle. "Kilo, you have an MA5B on hand?" Zil asked the armorer on duty.

The man was sitting at his desk with his head resting on folded arms. He did not move or acknowledge Zilard's presence.

"Kilo! Wake up!" Zil yelled at the sleeping man who now became responsive.

"Huh? What the **** you want, half breed?" Kilo the armorer looked up at The Enforcer.

"You got any MA5Bs on hand?"

"Yea, what the ****? What do you want it for?"

"I'm heading into the Voidlands tomorrow. I need something with some range. This scatter gun is great in town, but useless out in the desert," Zil held up the shotgun to show Kilo.

The armorer stood up, yawned deeply and stretched wide and long. Zilard watched Kilo go through his routine. He scratched his butt then reached for the ring of keys at his waste. He walked to a weapons rack, unlocked the padlock and removed a rifle. Each rack held ten assault rifles. After locking the rack, he brought the rifle to the arms room window, which had five vertical bars across it to prevent unauthorized personnel from getting inside. It kept people honest. Kilo wrote down the weapon model and serial number on the register. Then he entered his name, 'Zilard Pek', date and time to record who took the rifle. Once Zilard signed for the rifle, Kilo slid it under the bars to him.

Next, Kilo pulled out another pad of paper and wrote up the M90 CAWS shotgun. He took the shotgun in and handed Zil a receipt acknowledging that he took the shotgun from him. "You want some mags?" Kilo asked.

"Yea, can I have eleven?"

Kilo bent down, pulled out eleven aluminum ammunition boxes and slid them under the bar to Zilard who stuffed them inside his vest. He slung the rifle over his shoulder and walked back to the barracks. He removed the M90 magazines and cartridges and inserted 7.62mm magazines into the ammunition pouches in his assault vest. The rifle magazines each held 30 rounds.

Zilard reached under his bunk and pulled out his rucksack. Inside was wet weather gear, a poncho liner, three more rations, a change of clothing to include three pair of socks and three T-shirts. He kept trip wires, illumination flares, detonation cord, fuze cord and some insulated copper wire. He picked up his ruck and headed off to the quartermaster's office.

"Hey Romeo, can you help me with an issue?" Zilard asked the Enforcer's quartermaster who handled most of the supplies the Enforcers used. He worked closely with Boss Neiro and the town's supply administrator.

"Sure thing, Lizard," Romeo presented a friendly demeanor. "What you need?"

"Three hundred fifty, seven-six-two ball, four pounds of plastiques, eight blasting caps in a wooden box, an electric firing device, and two rations," Zilard ordered from the quartermaster. "Oh yea you have any half gallon bladders? I'm heading into the desert tomorrow. I will be gone for a few days or more.

"mmm, the Boss must have something special in mind."

"Yes sir," Zilard answered as Romeo counted out the boxes of 7.62-millimeter Full Metal Jacket ball ammunition. He handed them to Zilard in a steel box and filled it up with the rest of the equipment. Zilard immediately loaded the magazines and placed them in the rucksack. He would put them in the assault vest after he returned to the barracks. The plastique explosives were placed in one of the outer pockets of the ruck and the blasting caps inside the top flap. It was important to keep the two separate. Caps can go off rather easily. You don't want them anywhere near the plastiques if they accidentally set off. He didn't have the luxury of personnel and figured he would take the risk.

Later that day, he bumped into Rooster and Whitey. Rooster stood 5' 11" tall, with red hair cut into a perfect Mohawk, poking about five inches above his head. He also wore a red goatee. The brown-eyed man resembled a rooster, which is how he got his nickname. Whitey was actually a very dark black man named Dorum Sadik. Whitey stood 6' 5" tall and was completely bald; a very muscular man who rarely spoke.

"Rooster, Whitey, have your **** packed and wired tight. We are heading out at first light," Zilard spoke to the two men.

"Where we going, Lizard?" the thin Rooster asked. He was always dirty; appearing as if he hadn't bathed all month. He smelled foul and was always sniffing. Maybe he was ill or maybe he indulged in some narcotic ingested through the nasal passages.

"Voidlands," Zilard spoke.

"Really!? What the ****? Far out, man," Rooster laughed at the prospect of going into the desert. "What are we doing in the desert, man?"

"Looking for Boss Neiro's lost caravan. Get a Roller from the motor park. Get five or six water cans from Romeo and have your personal gear loaded aboard by zero five tomorrow morning when it is time to go. Check with Kilo to see if he has an M two-forty-seven to mount in the pintle. There is a good chance we will make contact tomorrow. Nice to have more firepower than the other guys." Zilard thought a few more seconds to see if he was missing anything. "Draw weapons and ammunition for yourselves too. One of you is driving and one of you is manning that pig." The pig Zilard was referring to was the M247 Machine gun to be mounted on the pintle behind the front seats.

"You got it Lizard," Rooster winked at him as the two walked off.

Zilard simply shook his head and headed to the dining tent for lunch.

Later that evening, at 2000 hours, Zilard found himself outside Boss Neiro's office. He could hear the old man talking to someone, but couldn't make out what Neiro and the other man were saying. He knocked, then entered when told to do so. Inside the office, he found Boss Neiro seated behind his desk and the Shyiine Scout, Kaitar.

"Come on in, Bora-Demir," Boss Neiro spoke in an authoritative tone as if asserting the fact that he was in charge. He also used Zilard's Shyiine sobriquet meaning Iron Hurricane. He wanted to give Kaitar the impression Zilard Pek was a professional Shyiine soldier and would be a valuable asset on the mission to locate and return the lost caravan.

"Boss, I have notified Rooster and Whitey. They will have a roller and machine gun for the morning. We've secured our equipment; ready for the op tomorrow morning." Zilard informed the Boss about his preparations.

_________________
I am playing no game. I am writing a story that maybe a few of you will enjoy.
I am in Eastern Standard Time zone (GMT -5)
ImageImage
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My Characters
My Writing Styles
Galileo Corporation
Modern Wargaming Rules
Bakushima; Fantasy Feudal Japan

Best Days for RPing
Fri - Sun

Attitude | +
"The longer I live, the more I realize the impact of attitude on life. Attitude to me is more important than facts. It is more important than the past, than education, than money, than circumstances, than failures, than success, than what other people think or say or do. It is more important than appearance, gift, or skill. It will make or break a company...a church...a home. The remarkable thing is we have a choice every day regarding the attitude we will embrace for that day. We cannot change our past...we cannot change the fact that people will act in a certain way. We cannot change the inevitable. The only thing we can do is play on the string we have, and that is our attitude. I am convinced that life is 10 percent what happens to me and 90 percent how I react to it. And so it is with you... we are in charge of our attitudes. "
~ Charles Swindoll


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PostPosted: Mon Oct 06, 2014 8:18 pm 
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Last edited by Tenere on Fri Oct 09, 2015 7:02 pm, edited 1 time in total.

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PostPosted: Fri Oct 10, 2014 1:55 pm 

PLaying SQUAD with TASQ

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"You should tell Rooster to take a bath. If I can smell him from across the street, the Az'bedar will be able to smell him a hundred yards off. Besides, if I have to ride on one of those things, I don't want to have to do it with him sitting there smelling like a ****ing latrine."

"It goes beyond a personal grudge if a man's smell might alert an Az'bedar scout. They are going to know we're there, eventually. But I'd rather they not find out until the last possible minute. They will take it as a -personal- offense and kill as all the more quickly if Rooster is stinking up their territory."

"Roger that, Serdadu," Zilard responded to Kaitar's insitence that Rooster take a bath. The word he chose was an uintended faux pas. Zilard was told as a boy that the term, Serdadu was a form of respect like sir or ma'am, but it actually had negative connotations. It was more like saying 'Roger that, fat bottom.' Since Zilard didn't actually know the Shyiine language and only picked up a few words and phrases here and there, living amongst the humans. He honestly didn't know any better. "I will insure all three of us clean our nasty stinking bodies."

"Have you been out there before, or is this your first time?"

Zilard considered the question asked of him. "Have I ever been out there before?" He contemplated that. "In all honesty, I was born and raised here in Dogton. I've traveled to several of the other cities. I've been down range in the Voidlands more than a dozen times, but only at distances up to about twelve miles. Never as far as we are suggesting for tomorrow." Zilard looked at Kaitar to read his reaction. He really didn't care what the Shyiine mercenary thought about Zilard's capacity to survive in the desert. Either he made it or he did not. That was on him anyway. "I figured you would share some of your wisdom with us on surviving down range."

After the meeting, Zilard would link back up with Rooster and Whitey. Tell them to take a shower with scentless soap and be ready before the sunrise. Rooster would drive and Whitey would man the pig. Zilard himself would go over his pack and check the Roller. It was one of hte sand colored ones to help camouflage their presence, but nothing would conceal any sand they kicked up or the sound of the engine. Zilard would take his shower before hitting the rack.

_________________
I am playing no game. I am writing a story that maybe a few of you will enjoy.
I am in Eastern Standard Time zone (GMT -5)
ImageImage
ImageImage
Image

My Characters
My Writing Styles
Galileo Corporation
Modern Wargaming Rules
Bakushima; Fantasy Feudal Japan

Best Days for RPing
Fri - Sun

Attitude | +
"The longer I live, the more I realize the impact of attitude on life. Attitude to me is more important than facts. It is more important than the past, than education, than money, than circumstances, than failures, than success, than what other people think or say or do. It is more important than appearance, gift, or skill. It will make or break a company...a church...a home. The remarkable thing is we have a choice every day regarding the attitude we will embrace for that day. We cannot change our past...we cannot change the fact that people will act in a certain way. We cannot change the inevitable. The only thing we can do is play on the string we have, and that is our attitude. I am convinced that life is 10 percent what happens to me and 90 percent how I react to it. And so it is with you... we are in charge of our attitudes. "
~ Charles Swindoll


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PostPosted: Tue Oct 14, 2014 7:47 pm 
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PostPosted: Wed Oct 15, 2014 9:52 pm 

PLaying SQUAD with TASQ

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Zilard woke up early as usual; showered, shaved and dressed. He checked on Whitey and Rooster, They were getting their **** wired tight as well. All three men picked up their packs and weapons. Zilard had given Whitey the plastique to carry so that he wouldn't be carrying both the blasting caps and the explosives. That would be a recipe for disaster.

The three men had the roller up and ready to rock n' roll by zero five thirty hours. They had water, meals, ammunition and weapons loaded. The vehicle had a weapons platform in the center behind the front two of seats. At the top of a four foot length of pipe, was a pintle used to mount an M247 Heavy Machine Gun. Jernal "Whitey" Whitman manned the "pig" ready to cover the group if they ran into trouble. A dual mount of M739 Light Machine guns were mounted in front of where the passenger would sit in the roller. This seat was reserved for Kaitar. Since he knew the Voidlands better than any of them, he recived the privelege of sitting in the front ready to guide Rooster who acted as vehicle driver. Zilard rode in the back of the vehicle to assist Whitey or use his personal firearm, the MA5B.

Once Kaitar was aboard, the team was ready to head down range into...

"Hey Lizard, what did that Shyiine Scout call the Voidlands?" Rooster asked.

"Shy'war-Anquai," Zilard answered while resting his head against the side of the roller. He figured maybe he could get a little shut eye while waiting on Kaitar. But Rooster had other plans.

"And the raiders we are chasing, man?" Rooster was curious about every little detail.

"The Az'bedar," Zilard mumbled.

"What was that?"

Zilard sat up, looked at Rooster, "The Az'bedar!"

"Riiight, the Azz bed Are," Rooster repeated. "Got it!" He looked over the dispatch paperwork and the Technical manual for the Roller. Everything appeared to be in order.

"Hey, far out man," Rooster sniggered to himself. "I wonder what would happen if we left without the Shyiine soldier?" Rooster laughed as though he had no clue what life was like on this planet.

Zilard shook his head, ignoring the man. Whitey hadn't even acknowledged Rooster yet; ignoring his antics. He pulled the charging handle to the rear and release it, giving it an assist forward. In the process, he loaded a round into the chamber and then rotated the selector lever onto Safe so as to not cause a problem. Whitey sat down across from Zilard and attempted to close his eyes as well.

"Ah, looks like the boss is here," Rooster spoke aloud upon spying Kaitar approaching. The other two sat up and looked in the direction Rooster pointed.

Zilard hopped off the back of the truck and walked up to meet Kaitar. He held his hand out to shake; a human custom Kaitar may or may not be accustomed to. Zilard felt it was the polite thing to do. He hoped to learn something from this man during the trip. "We are ready to go when you are. You get the front seat since you know where we are going. The roller is fueled, packed and ready to go." The men would eventually climb into the roller and head down range into the Shy'war-Anquai when everyone was ready.

_________________
I am playing no game. I am writing a story that maybe a few of you will enjoy.
I am in Eastern Standard Time zone (GMT -5)
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My Characters
My Writing Styles
Galileo Corporation
Modern Wargaming Rules
Bakushima; Fantasy Feudal Japan

Best Days for RPing
Fri - Sun

Attitude | +
"The longer I live, the more I realize the impact of attitude on life. Attitude to me is more important than facts. It is more important than the past, than education, than money, than circumstances, than failures, than success, than what other people think or say or do. It is more important than appearance, gift, or skill. It will make or break a company...a church...a home. The remarkable thing is we have a choice every day regarding the attitude we will embrace for that day. We cannot change our past...we cannot change the fact that people will act in a certain way. We cannot change the inevitable. The only thing we can do is play on the string we have, and that is our attitude. I am convinced that life is 10 percent what happens to me and 90 percent how I react to it. And so it is with you... we are in charge of our attitudes. "
~ Charles Swindoll


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