Ronius Vigilantes
31-12-2004, 12:16
OOC: This is an open RP so anyone's welcome.
No nukes, no Godmoding(of course)
Masspwnage won't be on for a while so we can engage in some diplomacy in the meantime.
IC:
Littleton, Ronius Vigilantes, December 29th, 11:07 PM, :
The man walked along in brown slacks and a white shirt, seemingly calm, holding a breifcase. It was a little out of place at this hour, but then again, nobody saw him anyway. He was in a park near one of Littleton's lesser known beaches. He took a piece of paper out of his pocket, looked at it, looked around, looked at it again, nodded, and put the briefcase under a bench.
About 15 minutes later, a man in a black suit picked the briefcase up, and walked off.
Centennial, Ronius Vigilantes, December 30th, 3:14 AM:
The messenger rushed into the Prime Minister's bedroom, not bothering to knock at the door.
"Mr. Silverstein sir! Wake up!"
The Prime Minister groaned. After an nearly indistinguishable mumble which was probably some French expletive, he sat up.
"Jacob, it's three in the morning... this better be important."
"Sir, I assure you it is. We've discovered a plot of a mass kidnapping of the nation's children!"
That got his attention.
"What!?!?!" The Prime Minister's shout ensured that anyone who had been sleeping in the mansion was now wide awake.
"Who's responsible?"
"We have reason to believe it's Masspwnage. One of our informants there told us."
"Is the informant reliable?"
"As far as we know sir. We've taken him into asylum here."
Silverstein was shocked. Two major incidents in one day. First, his foreign minister had lashed out at the Fabus's, know this. He walked out into the command center, and turned to his good friend, General Neets Hatton.
"Neets, you know what's going on?"
"Yes sir."
"Good. Put the 40% of the military on DEFCON 3, 10% on DEFCON 1. It seems as though we have ourselves a problem."
The general was on the phone with RVMCC (Ronius Vigilanted Military Command Center) in about 10 seconds.
He turned to his press secretary.
"This is totally confidential. Only the families of the troops deployed will know what's happening till I give the order.
Meanwhile, at RVMCC, in Golden, Ronius Vigilantes:
Commander Russell Wilson was a seasoned veteran of combat, and an experienced commander, but this was still a shock. 40% of the military on DEFCON 3, and 10% on DEFCON 1. Problems with Masspwnage. This was Prime Minister Silverstein's first ever military action. The Commander never really liked Silverstein much anyway. Too much of a pacifist. But this large of a deployment, so quickly. He was curious.
Just outside Golden, in a suburbian house:
Ryan Vicks was sleeping peacefully next to his wife when the phone rang.
"What?"
"Mr. Vicks?"
"Yeah, what?"
"This is your deployment officer. Get to Ramsey Airforce Base by 600 hours. Have your squadron there."
"What the hell is going on? Is this some kind of joke?"
"No sir. You may be sent to Masspwnage imminently."
His wife stirred next to him.
"What's going on honey?", she asked softly.
"Wait a minute... I'll tell you when I'm off the phone."
The officer spoke again.
"Mr. Vicks, they say you're the best in the business. This is your chance to prove it." The he hung up.
Vicks was a pilot. And an extraordinary one at that. He started training to fly when he was 8, sitting in the copilot seat of his father's propeller plane. 17 years later, he was one of the most decorated pilots in Ronius Vigilantes. In dogfights and practice missions that is. He had only ever been deployed once before, and he hadn't even taken off; he had never been in a combat situation. This was sudden. Vicks and his wife had just returned from their honeymoon.
"Honey, I'm being deployed."
"What do you mean?"
"Something's going on with Masspwnage, and my squadron's being deployed."
"But, can't you-"
"I have to go. I've been training so long... this is my chance."
His wife sighed.
"Ok."
"Besides, I'm probably not going to go anywhere anyway."
Within a few minutes, after some coffee, he got out his PDA an looked up his fellow pilots' numbers. He was the Captain of the Fifth Aerial Combat Squadron, so he had to get all 4 other pilots. Miguel Ruiz Jr., codename Fire Fox. Al Toms, codename Uns. Ilena Starkey, codename Blue Sky. Rob Vitteli, codename Lightwing. Vicks's codename was Air Shark. Those five pilots were among the country's best, certainly the best that lived in Golden.
Each one of them reacted with the same surprise he had shown.
Ryan arrived at the airport in his Honda Civic at 5:45. Ilena was dropped off in a taxi a few minutes later, the Miguel on his motorcycle, Al in his Mercedes, and finally Rob on foot.
"You know as much as I do," Vicks told his friends.
The deployment officer walked over. Vicks knew him from his previous deployment.
"Get in your jets. You're taking off in 30 minutes."
That was a surprise. They walked onto the tarmac, each of them to their respective F-14s. The control tower radioed to them.
"You will recieve directions when you're in the air. You're cleared for takeoff on runway AF47-B. Air Shark first. Then Uns. Then Fire Fox. Then Lightwing. Then Blue Sky. Got that?"
"Roger," all the pilots said at once.
Vicks pulled onto the runway and began to accelerate.
Meanwhile, in Centennial:
The Prime Minister, having a better idea of what was going on, had called for the mobilization of a small group of elite fighter pilots. He got on the phone, and called Masspwnage.
"I'm hearing some odd things over here. Can you tell me what's going on?"
No nukes, no Godmoding(of course)
Masspwnage won't be on for a while so we can engage in some diplomacy in the meantime.
IC:
Littleton, Ronius Vigilantes, December 29th, 11:07 PM, :
The man walked along in brown slacks and a white shirt, seemingly calm, holding a breifcase. It was a little out of place at this hour, but then again, nobody saw him anyway. He was in a park near one of Littleton's lesser known beaches. He took a piece of paper out of his pocket, looked at it, looked around, looked at it again, nodded, and put the briefcase under a bench.
About 15 minutes later, a man in a black suit picked the briefcase up, and walked off.
Centennial, Ronius Vigilantes, December 30th, 3:14 AM:
The messenger rushed into the Prime Minister's bedroom, not bothering to knock at the door.
"Mr. Silverstein sir! Wake up!"
The Prime Minister groaned. After an nearly indistinguishable mumble which was probably some French expletive, he sat up.
"Jacob, it's three in the morning... this better be important."
"Sir, I assure you it is. We've discovered a plot of a mass kidnapping of the nation's children!"
That got his attention.
"What!?!?!" The Prime Minister's shout ensured that anyone who had been sleeping in the mansion was now wide awake.
"Who's responsible?"
"We have reason to believe it's Masspwnage. One of our informants there told us."
"Is the informant reliable?"
"As far as we know sir. We've taken him into asylum here."
Silverstein was shocked. Two major incidents in one day. First, his foreign minister had lashed out at the Fabus's, know this. He walked out into the command center, and turned to his good friend, General Neets Hatton.
"Neets, you know what's going on?"
"Yes sir."
"Good. Put the 40% of the military on DEFCON 3, 10% on DEFCON 1. It seems as though we have ourselves a problem."
The general was on the phone with RVMCC (Ronius Vigilanted Military Command Center) in about 10 seconds.
He turned to his press secretary.
"This is totally confidential. Only the families of the troops deployed will know what's happening till I give the order.
Meanwhile, at RVMCC, in Golden, Ronius Vigilantes:
Commander Russell Wilson was a seasoned veteran of combat, and an experienced commander, but this was still a shock. 40% of the military on DEFCON 3, and 10% on DEFCON 1. Problems with Masspwnage. This was Prime Minister Silverstein's first ever military action. The Commander never really liked Silverstein much anyway. Too much of a pacifist. But this large of a deployment, so quickly. He was curious.
Just outside Golden, in a suburbian house:
Ryan Vicks was sleeping peacefully next to his wife when the phone rang.
"What?"
"Mr. Vicks?"
"Yeah, what?"
"This is your deployment officer. Get to Ramsey Airforce Base by 600 hours. Have your squadron there."
"What the hell is going on? Is this some kind of joke?"
"No sir. You may be sent to Masspwnage imminently."
His wife stirred next to him.
"What's going on honey?", she asked softly.
"Wait a minute... I'll tell you when I'm off the phone."
The officer spoke again.
"Mr. Vicks, they say you're the best in the business. This is your chance to prove it." The he hung up.
Vicks was a pilot. And an extraordinary one at that. He started training to fly when he was 8, sitting in the copilot seat of his father's propeller plane. 17 years later, he was one of the most decorated pilots in Ronius Vigilantes. In dogfights and practice missions that is. He had only ever been deployed once before, and he hadn't even taken off; he had never been in a combat situation. This was sudden. Vicks and his wife had just returned from their honeymoon.
"Honey, I'm being deployed."
"What do you mean?"
"Something's going on with Masspwnage, and my squadron's being deployed."
"But, can't you-"
"I have to go. I've been training so long... this is my chance."
His wife sighed.
"Ok."
"Besides, I'm probably not going to go anywhere anyway."
Within a few minutes, after some coffee, he got out his PDA an looked up his fellow pilots' numbers. He was the Captain of the Fifth Aerial Combat Squadron, so he had to get all 4 other pilots. Miguel Ruiz Jr., codename Fire Fox. Al Toms, codename Uns. Ilena Starkey, codename Blue Sky. Rob Vitteli, codename Lightwing. Vicks's codename was Air Shark. Those five pilots were among the country's best, certainly the best that lived in Golden.
Each one of them reacted with the same surprise he had shown.
Ryan arrived at the airport in his Honda Civic at 5:45. Ilena was dropped off in a taxi a few minutes later, the Miguel on his motorcycle, Al in his Mercedes, and finally Rob on foot.
"You know as much as I do," Vicks told his friends.
The deployment officer walked over. Vicks knew him from his previous deployment.
"Get in your jets. You're taking off in 30 minutes."
That was a surprise. They walked onto the tarmac, each of them to their respective F-14s. The control tower radioed to them.
"You will recieve directions when you're in the air. You're cleared for takeoff on runway AF47-B. Air Shark first. Then Uns. Then Fire Fox. Then Lightwing. Then Blue Sky. Got that?"
"Roger," all the pilots said at once.
Vicks pulled onto the runway and began to accelerate.
Meanwhile, in Centennial:
The Prime Minister, having a better idea of what was going on, had called for the mobilization of a small group of elite fighter pilots. He got on the phone, and called Masspwnage.
"I'm hearing some odd things over here. Can you tell me what's going on?"