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 Armada Mil-stalker.

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Armada



Posts : 4
Join date : 2014-09-29

PostSubject: Armada Mil-stalker.   Mon Sep 29, 2014 1:06 pm

Steam Name: Howard Cowarl
SteamID: STEAM_0:0:24508468
Combat RP Experience: Good.
Stalker RP Experience: Good.
Desire to Join UKM: It's there.
Willingness to Cooperate with Presence in Events:
Always, so long as it's reasonable.
Willingness to Receive IC / OoC Training:
100% available.

What is the UKM's purpose in the zone?:
-Containment of foreign objects, information, establishing an impermeable border, and dealing with situations surgically.
How will your UKM interact with other soldiers or military stalkers:
- Casually, albeit rough.
How will your UKM interact with his superiors and officers?:
-Formally, and succinctly.
How will your UKM interact with unauthorized Stalkers in the zone:

Name: Edik Borodin
Ethnicity: Ukrainian
Age: 38
Rank: Sergeant

Backstory:

The sirens went off almost as soon as they got the news, shaking the hornet's nest. The clockwork men snapped awake, already clothed. An orchestra of boots filled the hallway as all fifty troopers from the barracks made a mad dash for the armory, intending to arm up. The soldier found himself unconsciously joining the herd, coming back to life once he realized he was marching into a transport helicopter. It was April 12, 14:45 +2 GMT. Sent from outside of the perimeter, the soldier and his gang were scrambled together almost immediately to fill in the sickening gap left behind by the second disaster. The soldier felt sick - it was unusual for him to feel that way. Maybe it was something in the air that told him it was a bad day to be him, but the sentiment was soon forgotten.



"This is Ox-Five, ten minutes out, control. Landing at Outpost Kyriv in five tops'." A pilot droned on, the rest nothing but technical rubbish.



The men and women inside the aircraft glanced at eachother, tacit messages of encouragement and urgency. A job was to be done, and as simple as it was, it might not be as easy as expected. the soldier's mind driveled on about what might've happened to fill in the five-minute gap, him equipment rustling at the helicopter's sway. Two red lights lit up at the end of the helicopter, all the nameless and faceless soldiers sitting up at the sudden light. They began to unlatch themselves from the helicopter, the sixteen men now squeezing their weapons for some form of comfort.



"This is Ox-Five, fifteen minutes out, control. Landing at Outpost Kyriv Southern Pad now. No response from Air Control."



The soldier poked him head right beside the window, getting a look at the scene below through a small porthole. The outpost itself was a rather small FOB, composed of only a few buildings in total, probably enough to house fifty or so soldiers. It was clear that the structure was neglected, as is the nature with most miniscule bases such as Kyriv. A multi-levelled living quarters here, a command and air control base there, the only feature that kept this from being anothim blemish on Ukrainian soil was the helicopter pad meant for supplies and troop movement. The soldier soon found himself accompanying the landing pad, the pilot now settling his bird down.



At once, the faceless soldiers stood themselves, the doors of the shuttle pried open. The first two tossed eachother prayers as they began to level their weapons towards the outside. The soldier found himself standing two men behind them, doing some last-minute and minute adjustment of him equipment.



Green light splahed into the eyes of all the troopers as they began to file out at once, and they began to file out of the craft. The sounds of touched-down rotors were deafening, kicking up loose particles on the pad as well as sending ripples through the attire of the soldiers. They began to fan out, the soldier assigned to a fireteam entering the command post.Their transport soon left the area, blending into the ambience after short time. Four soldiers strutted into the command structure through the rear, the soldier and his comrades through the front.



One textbook assault later, and the structure was secure.





The time was 15:03 +2 GMT, April 12th, 2006. Gunshots rang at the other side of the compound. A sense of familiarity ran through the twelve within the command building as their fireteam leaders barked into their radio, and then at the troops. The soldier's squad was to hold the building.



​ The time was 15:06 +2, April 12th, 2006. Gunshots rang at the soldier's side of the compound. Sluggish, sleepy Ukrainian colours shot out 5.45 rounds into the sides of the building, the 12 quickly catching on.The gunshots were sent back through a variety of windows, ending as soon as it started. It soon ended.



The time was 15:10 +2, April 12th, 2006. Two casualties were swiftly reported in, a squad medic that accompanied them soon getting to work. Twelve Ukrainian colours laid at the other side of the compound, splattered with crimson. Three fireteam-leaders endlessly hollered into their radios with no avail. Orders for fortification were handed out to the functional three.



The time was 15:16 +2, April 12th, 2006. The command building came under fire. One casualty was declared dead. Eighteen figures stood at the other side of the compound, shambling senselessly towards the soldier. Sickening explosions were sent out towards the pack as they kicked up dirt and dust, the 11 forced to use the rest of their issued grenades.



The time was 15:27 +2, April 12th, 2006. The firefight took longer than it should've. Three more soldiers were declared dead. There remained only eight of the originals sixteen. A plan to hunker down at the structure and wait for reinforcements was soon set into motion.



The soldier dreamily floated through the next few weeks as rations dwindled down and tempers skyrocketed. The men sat at the windows for hours on end, wordlessly. Their eyes bore into their fallen comrades - the ones that fell at their hand. the soldier unconsciously held him empty stomach. Everyone had enough sense to yell, as opposed to brawl for what they want, fortunately. One fireteam leader rose to the position of commander of the 8. It was shortly after they ran out of food that the 8 broke away from the compound completely. They had been forgotten.



For a few more weeks, the 8 drifted off, salvaging every structure they could along the path to another compound. All of them were filled with feral Ukrainian troopers, or nothing at all. The soldier rubbed him tired feet on more than one occasion.



They eventually stumbled across a compound that was occupied with a few men. Of the eight, one survived. The soldier. The sane Ukrainian troopers within mistook them for husks created by the Zone, and fired with a KORD and no remorse. As the soldier wandered on, he found a camp of civilians surviving. Barely.



The time was 12:23 +2, December 12th, 2006. the soldier sold him equipment in order to blend in with the rest more. It was a week after the split, and he simply resigned, submitting the gravity of him situation. he was adorned with a basic suit a fat trader called a 'Sunrise Suit'. An AK-74 was tossed on him back, and a Makarov into him holster. He strutted on in the wastes.

He eventually re-linked with the military with a plethora of knowledge, a new position, and new equipment.


The soldier woke up with a slight gasp, as if reliving him life in one moment. A trooper walking by tossed him a glance, soon prying his eyes away. He performed him morning routine yet again, and strutted out into the Zone.

Posted from my phone. Might be a little rough.
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Nazz
Lord & Master Of The Forums
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Posts : 40
Join date : 2014-08-20

PostSubject: Re: Armada Mil-stalker.   Mon Sep 29, 2014 4:35 pm

I like this. I'll give you my thumbs up.

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