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JiangXi. The proving grounds since the Phantoms bombed it, turning it into a desolate wasteland. General Forge, Commandante Meier, Colonel Lanakov, Colonel Novikov. They survived the hell, and now, a new chapter opens.

New Hangzhou. Once the pinnacle of success for the Coalition, now a desolate city covered with the raiders who have gone mad and the mutant creatures that roam the night. Down the main street, a Storm Gunship lies in ruin, brought down the creatures of the night. On the main highway, the remants of jeeps lie rusted, marking the entrance Jacob Forge once used. Around the contryside, remnants of crashed Storms and dead bodies, raider habitats and radiation-soaked villages, are all that remains of the once alive paradise.

Outside of Santiago de Omega, New Hong Kong, and d'Acadia, you are not at the top.
They are.

[Image: xaQZqnN.jpg]

Stalkers. They are most common, and always travel in herds.
Not packs.
Herds.
Don't bother fighting. Just shoot the closest and hide.
Because they don't go for the throat. They just eat. They eat until there is nothing left, so save the last bullet for yourself.
It's a kinder way for you to go.

[Image: creatures_mutant-insects_frame_ants.png]

[Image: creatures_mutant-insects_frame_ants.png]

Massive carnivorous insects roam the night. Called the "Night Watchers" by the secured New Hangzhou Airfield, these things are the size of a human.
And they hunger for flesh.
They love rib meat.
Tip: Aim for the eyes. Their hearing is about as good as Coronel's when drunk. Which is to say, complete and utter bullshiznit.

[Image: Demontower.jpg]

The Demons, as we call them, are your worst nightmare. They have taken down many Storm Gunships that have strayed too far into the city, eviscerated many patrols that accidently go too far. New Hangzhou is theirs; they are at the top.
Tip: It takes Storm Assault Cannons to kill them.
At minimum.

Just kidding about them being at the top.

[Image: cute+bunny+010.jpg]

Fear them.
They devour anything in their path. Man, mutant, raider. They can completely devour a Demon in a matter of hours. If you see a swarm, run. You run, and pray you find a tree to climb.
Because if you don't, you'll never be found.
Well, you're body won't.
Maybe your blood-soaked empty guns.

The city was desolate for humans.
For the inhabitants, it was paradise.

A hell that every recruit would see as the CPW Barricade gave them a birds-eye view of the hell. Maybe you'd get lucky, and the very well racked Major Kirov would give you a good drop off.
Or maybe she'll drop you off as far away in the muck and mire. So don't stare, don't disrespect.
Because, once you leave the Sanya Litvyak, you're under Kirov's control. And once she drops you on JiangXi, the only hope you have, the only hope in hell, is running, barely sleeping, and more running. Maybe you'll find a car. Maybe a patrol is out there and offers you more supplies. Maybe raiders find you.
Who knows.
Because, once you leave Mama Sasha's Rest Home, you're fracked.

Good luck.

Pray the Bunnies are hibernating.

You will be dropped off at random spots, and from there, you must make your way to the New Hangzhou Airfield where we have a permanent military presence. From there, you can now walk and get some more water. If you fall into a quivering mass of jelly, then we'll lock you in a room with Coronel after Burrito Night.

PS: Tip, the bunnies don't hibernate.

//OOC

There are a few rules for this:

1.) Once you are dropped onto JiangXi, you are allowed to interact with everyone before the drop, and if you come across the others. Please, interact with others, build relationships and the like. You come out hardened soldiers bonded together into a fighting machine because of Hell itself. So come out with some good character development and character bonding.
Or rivalries. Either's good.
Please keep all pants ON until you return to civilization.

2.) No powergaming. Keep it realistic. You have a rifle with 3 clips, a pistol with 2, a knife, food, and matches. There is alot of supplies scattered around the landscape, but not all of it is easy pickings. Remember what happened to the Rivera. And the Kursk. And every single ship that has the sad misfortune to be named Stormfall (so far).

3.) You must post AT LEAST 5 times. Each post must contain a minimum of 200 words. There is a lot of things you can do while making your way to the Airfield; just use your imagination and keep it realistic. Yes, singing some epic song while gunning down mutant creatures is acceptable. As long as the song is good. If I see Bieber, I will find you and I will kill you.

4.) Please spell and grammar check before posting. If English is not your first language, please ask anyone in High Command for help. If they don't respond, they are cybering.

5.) List of Starting Equipment:
1 weapon of your choosing:

[Image: spas.png]

3 Clips of ammunition for the rifle
1 Pistol
2 clips for your pistol (one is already loaded)
1 Combat Knife
2 days worth of food
Five days' worth of Anti-Rads
A waterproof poncho
Compass
TAC-Link to the Overwatch Gunship Barricade
Emergency Button to Barricade to abort the test (ignore the very grenade-looking battery).
Flare Gun, one flare
Grape Condoms

6.) Watch out for the bunnies. Seriously. We're not kidding.

As Jack sits strapped into his seat on the way down to Jiangxi he thinks to himself, "What have i gotten myself into? as the ship rumbles down, he watches the atmosphere slowly clear into a vision of nightmare, broken landscape, fire, smoldering ash and a desolate wasteland. Jake is nervous, but not unprepared, he thought to himself, "I've been in worse" or so he tried to tell himself. the ride down was fairly quiet, the only sound was the hum of the engines, he checks his bag, 3 clips of ammo for his choice of weapon, the VLR Compact CQ rifle. 2 clips for his pistol, some food, anti-rads, and a few other things. he digs deeper, and finds his combat knife. Smaller than the standard issue, but better balanced. "better keep this close" Jack thinks before tying up his bag. He sits with his eyes closed, waiting to hear the landing props come down for landing, maybe another recruit will speak up, break the silence.. maybe not. Either way, Jack thinks, I'm making it to that airfield, Alive... whether I'm alone or not.

[Image: JiangXi-AboardBarricade_zps493a98c5.png]

Some things never changed. After a year in the bunkers of Volgograd, she had all but forgotten the smell of a Storm crammed full of soldiers. A combination of sweat, gun oil, and what she could only label as fear. It hadn't taken long in the Coalition for her to recognise that particular odor. The reminder of the stench that Barricade offered was hardly welcome. Akira scowled, the expression strangely out-of-place on her Kusarian features. The Kusari Navy may have been full of hateful old men, but at least they cleaned their gunboats. She hated the Coalition's troop transports, with their cargo of self-righteous would-be soldiers, certain that they would be the Premier's next heroes. It was a delusion. There were no heroes on JiangXi. None that came back. There were only survivors and corpses, and Miyagi Akira fully intended to belong to the first group. Two of the Militsiya Corps pilots next to her shifted nervously in their seats at her expression, quickly striking up conversations with the men around them when she met their gaze. Battered as hers was, the uniform of a Fighter Corps pilot and the Lieutenant's stripes on her shoulders demanded respect.

Akira smiled, a thin predatory expression. She had forgotten.

Across Barricade's crammed bay, a man sat with his eyes pressed closed. Praying, likely. She watched him for a moment, ice in her gaze. Akira had abandoned that practice long ago, as the ancestors had abandoned her. She wondered if the young fool would live long enough to leave those beliefs behind. Unlikely. Religion was frowned upon in the Coalition. It had been one of the few policies she had agreed with on her enlistment. There had been only a handful she truly disagreed with, but few outside His Watchful Eye cared, if you kept your mouth shut and uttered the right lies, and she had grown very proficient at deception since she had fled Kusari's Navy. Not proficient enough to prevent herself from being shuttled down to JiangXi, but that had hardly been her fault.

A twinge of pain crept up her spine as the Storm shuddered. She'd left her straps too loose again. With a few furious tugs, the necessary adjustments were made, and the pain in her back faded to a persistent discomfort. The old injury rarely troubled her in space, save for sporadic bouts of numbness, but she would have to be careful on the ground. It had been a long time since she had been required to run in full gravity. Akira had devised a simple counter to that problem.

The VLR-01 'Seeker' rested between her legs, the big rifle's muzzle to the floor. It was one of the more advanced infantry weapons the Coalition employed, insofar as anything the Coalition's marines used could be called advanced. The Fighter Corps had the lion's share of the budget, and everyone knew it. It was what could modestly be called long range and, with any luck, would stop anything from clawing her face off long before it got close enough to try. The rifle was still a toy compared to the high-end energy weapons she had used in Kusari's Navy, but somewhere in the sea of training sessions she'd undertaken the Seeker had grown on her. Solid projectiles. Recoil. You could feel the kill. Akira liked that.

Her pack sat behind the rifle, tucked between the bench and her knees. It was depressingly small. Eating before she'd climbed on board would have been wise, but there had been precious little time to spare - even a disgraced Coalition Lieutenant knew better then to keep Major Kirov waiting. Now, she was left with a sparse handful of rations, and less ammunition. No tent. No mechanical aid. The pack would still be painful to carry, and she'd loosened the straps off in case she needed to dump it in a hurry.

If only she could figure out a way to do the same to the Militsiya. The junior soldiers were young, untrained. She had no doubt that they would do far more to get her killed then assist her. Her shoulders rose and fell in a gentle shrug. Survivors and corpses. If they died, they died. That was their problem. She had no intention of throwing her neck in a Stalker's fangs to preserve the blood of some idiotic hero.

JiangXi hovered in the Storm's viewports. It couldn't be too far now. Soon, the world would be a simple place, dominated by the need to kill, to survive. It was a simplicity that had been absent from her life for too long. Slowly, almost reverently, she fished a battered green notepad from her pocket, and flicked to a blank page. Pen and paper books were archaic by Kusari's standards, but it was still possible to get hold of them in the far remote regions of space frequented by the Coalition. She liked the old book. There was something calming in recording memories in tangible form. The last line was still smudged from where she had hurriedly stowed the diary the last time the censors had come knocking. It read:

Dublin, 817 A.S - Bretonian Armed Forces

Underneath, her pen scratched out a new line. The shuddering of the ship blurred the characters, and it took a few tries to get the kanji just right.

JiangXi, 819 A.S - _______

Sasha Kirov, Commissar-Major and commanding officer of the Barricade since Tori Villiers had left (after one last round of, ah, "conditioning" by Kirov herself) with the Sevastapol Divison, prowled the troop bay. She kept a clean ship, but the stench of fear really was strong this time.
Not from one recruit, who ogled her.
One recruit gets the worst drop.

But there was Miyagi Akira.
Kirov did not know why Commandante Meier had sent her down; she had proven herself enough, and was recovering from a spinal injury.
An injury, that could kill her.

But she jumped at the chance. Which meant Sasha would go a little easy on her (of course, Sasha was a bit sexist) and...Oh my.

Walking over to Miyagi, she leaned over so her shadow cast over the woman. She raised an eyebrow , arms crossed.
"What do we have here?" She said, tilting her head to indicate the notebook. "Little cheats left by a survivor? Ancient prayers to whatever gods you cling to? Last Will and Testament, just in case we find your body?"

As Jack sat there, eyes closed, he heard the faint sound of someone getting up from the front of the ship. he opened his eyes as he heard to clear sound of combat boots on the Ally floor of the Barricade, even without being introduced, he knew. This was Sasha Kirov, a woman to be respected in the Coalition, Jack knew the stories, he heard what she was like, he averted his gaze as to not attract attention, for that was his specialty, becoming anonymous, staying undetected, at least until his job was done.

Jack looked across the bay, and saw another woman, He didn't know her name, or who she was, but he could see her rank insignia upon her uniform, he wondered to himself what she had done to get herself in with the recruits in the Trials. "Shouldn't be much longer now" he thought as he looked over the wasteland below, not knowing where he was going to be dropped, or what he was going to face, his only thought was of his mission, as it always was. He was cold, and calculated, everything he did was well thought out. but without intel, how could he plan what was going to happen. he could only hope Sasha dropped him in a more favorable location than the others.

Jack Checked his weapon, and checked it again, he took the ammo clips out, and tucked them into his tunic, just in case he had to lose the pack, with rifle on his back, his pistol at the ready, and his knife tucked into his belt. Jack waited, like so many other have, for the doors of the Barricade to open and for him to face his Trial

Akira's pen paused mid-stroke as a shadow settled over her work, pen hovering above the paper. A scowl of irritation flashed across her face at the interruption. What were the Militsiya thinking? She had thought her posture had made her intentions perfectly clear. No interruptions. If they couldn't pick up on something as basic, as elementary, as leaving a senior officer alone then they didn't deserve to be out unsupervised, much less aboard a gunboat of the Coalition. Akira itched to rectify that situation. Perhaps Kirov would consent to throw the offending Recruit off the landing ramp. Judging by the terrain flashing by the viewing ports, the fall wouldn't be fatal.

At least, not immediately fatal.

Satisfied at the thought, Akira finally peeled her eyes from the page... And found herself gazing into the ice-blue eyes of Commissar-Major Sasha Kirov. Unusually, for a Coalition Officer, Kirov wasn't pointing a weapon at Akira. Kami, it said something about her mental state that, after a year confined planetside, the first thing she noticed was that no-one had a gun to her head. It was a pleasant change. Another reminder that her life; however little of it she retained, was her own again. And I choose to go to JiangXi...

"What do we have here?" Kirov hovered over her, inclining her head toward the notepad, folded closed in Akira's lap. "Little cheats left by a survivor? Ancient prayers to whatever gods you cling to? Last Will and Testament, just in case we find your body?"

Still, so similar... If she closed her eyes, she could imagine it were another Commissar standing over her two years ago. The Coalition's Recruitment may have changed, but it bought Akira a trickle of satisfaction to see that its officers were as demanding as ever. She would need that determination later. Akira paused, waiting for the answer to come to her. One always did. There was a thrill in competition, in the engagement of wits, and Kirov's words were an invitation to battle. If nothing else, it would take her mind off JiangXi.

"I doubt you would, Major. My body is notoriously difficult to locate at the best of times." Akira's voice was faint and dry, like a desert wind with none of the tranquility. She gestured around the cramped bay, narrowly avoiding scraping the Recruits penning her in. "Perhaps one of these would make a better quarry? It seems Militsonyer Grillix plans to engage the wildlife was his blade."

Akira nodded across the Storm's bay to Jack as the man tweaked his knife's position, her lips curled in a smile that held no warmth. Yes. It seemed to say. I know who you are. And wouldn't you like to know why? She held his gaze for a moment, evaluating him like an insect caught beneath a microscope. Impassive expression, his movements measured, even in the brief time in which she studied him. Every bit the consummate soldier, just like the others surrounding him. Inseparable, indistinguishable. A cardboard cutout of a man. If he could survive JiangXi, and Hispania he might yet become more. Neither she nor the Fighter Corps had a need for the mundane.

Kirov was still looming over her, an ocean of calm in a sea of recruits. Akira shifted her attention back to the Commissar-Major, finally answering her question.
"This." She picked up the thin green book, cupping it in her hands, like an offering to an ancient god. "Is a logbook. A simple thing for such care, hai?"

Time among the Coalition had all but eliminated Akira's native accent, but she still occasionally found herself resorting to Japanese. It was a habit she would have to curb. The logbook listed every battle she had ever fought in, each foe she had dueled and bested. Simple lists of foes, times, and locations. From her days as a racer back on New Tokyo to Partisan patrols alongside General Forge, the little text was the closest thing to a diary she had. Considering her fluctuating status on several police bulletins, it was also likely the most complete record of her identities in Sirius. Without a word, she offered it to Kirov.

Here we are, I thought. On our way to the biggest hell-hole we’ve ever seen. We’re going to Planet JianXi to endure its trials as we become strong members of the SCRA’s forces. I’ve always done well anywhere I’ve been, so I feel like I’ll be fine wherever they put me, but I’ll not be cocky just in case; being carful’s probably what kept me alive all the times before.

I looked around at the other men in the ship. The one across from me was already eating a bite of his rations.

“Don’t you think you should wait until we’re on the ground for that?” I asked.

“Who’re you tah tell me when Ah can eat? Ah’m hungry now, ‘sides if Ah’m gonna tour this place Ah’m gonna taste its local meat!”

“My name is Dietfried Kamenev. From the sound of them, I hope to never have to resort to eating those creatures, but if you’re crazy enough, tell me how they all taste when we've beat this test. What’s your name, anyway?”

“Name’s Jack. And don’t be surprised if you have to eat them, too, there’s a reason we’ve got five days of anti-rads and only two days of rations.”

“You’re probably right,” I said.

“Damnit, if you two don’t shut the hell up I’ll smash you both before we land!” Yelled a heavy man at the end of the row. I’ve known people like him. They’ll wreak a lot of havoc before they die, but they’ll inevitably be killed because they rush into every conflict they can find or make.

I hope I’m wrong this time; he could really be a useful ally if he doesn’t get himself killed on JianXi.

Jason "Hiccup" Clark looked nervously around him, stepping off the ship onto the drab-looking station, with nameless, faceless, and emotionless recruits disembarking the ship all around him.
He proceeded into the hallway to the staging area, where the same, nameless, faceless, emotionless recruits geared up for the drop into what may very well be the last few days of their lives.
As Jason walked down the seemingly endless hallway to the staging area, he looked out a nearby window, into space. He imagined his family, his life, and everything he ever did. He was slowly drifting away from reality, until another recruit pushed into him.
"Hey! Watch it," the recruit exclaimed, "Some of us want to survive this!"
Jason was suddenly struck back into reality, uttered a simple "Sorry!", and continued into the staging area.
Once there, he looked among the crowd. No one he knew. "Amazing," he thought, "Looks like I'm running solo."
He proceeded to get his gear, and was quite happy with his sniper rifle-looking weapon. Looking at his rucksack filled with gear, he checked everything. Ammo, knife, poncho, compass, everything he needed was in his rucksack. He though twice about strapping this rucksack to his body. As a precaution, he had his rifle and pistol in easy to reach places, a pistol magazine in his pocket, and a sniper magazine in the other. He figured he would have to use his pistol more often, since his sniper wouldn't be much use against a charging Stalker. After suiting up, he awaited further instruction.

Erik Meier
CIC of the CPW-Radek

Meier had been sitting in his Captains Chair, Surveying the many screens infront of him. Vitals from every recruit heading to the surface, weather reports, Intel Reports on Wildlife and hostiles. News were on one screen, Videofeed from the outside in another. The Radek was flying above and behind the Barricade, following them down to ward the surface. He flipped through the Recruits files on one screen, coming across Akira's he stopped for a second. Reading through the whole file quickly and taking in the info, he tapped on his comm-system.

"Patch me through to the Barricade Kurkov."

Chief Engineer Kurkov quickly nodded, he secured a frequency to the Barricade and right to Kirov.

"Kirov, This is Meier. Make sure Akira survives the trip to the Airfield. She has already proven that she is willing to sacrifice her life for the Coalition again. So lend her some inconspicuous assistance."

The Comm-Channel then closed, not leaving time for a Response. It's not like he asked Kirov anyways, it was an order, and Kirov's ass would be on the line if Akira died. Meier leaned back again and watched over the monitors.

To the soldiers onboard the Barricade, she was only known as Cinder. To Kirov, she was the Survivor; Cinder had been to JiangXi; she went through the hell of it, twice over if you will. Not only did a demon take down the Storm she was in, but another Demon almost dropped another Storm on her.
Soon enough though, Cinder had arrived at the airfield two weeks later, having dodged everything from Stalkers to the Bunnies as she criscrossed New Hangzhou.
She was thought dead.

Not only did she cheat death, Cinder turned right back around and kicked Death in the balls.
Four times.

And now, she was there at Kirov's request.
And now, at Meier's orders, she would deploy to the planet's surface and keep an eye on Akira.

Kirov stood beside her. "You heard?"
"Yeah."
"Don't know how this will go tovarishch." Kirov said. "They are..." She frowned. "They don't understand the exact hell we described."
"They will." Cinder said. She wasn't really in armor; but Kirov could see her stuff was in the passenger's seat of the armored Jeep in the back. Kirov looked back at the recruit already eating.
"Idiot thinks the animals are edible."
"He'll die before he can even get two miles near the city." Cinder said bluntly. "But why the hell does Meier want me to watch that one?"
"Ask him yourself when you see him next."

Nodding to her, Kirov raised her voice.
"Alright nuggets. Drop time." She pulled out a bona-fide paper list. "Clarke, Jason. Otherwise known as Hiccup. You drop first."
The storm pitched up as it came in. As dirt was thrown into the air, the back ramp lowered. Kirov hauled Hiccup to the ramp.
"Enjoy the scenery."
She unceremoniously threw him off before turning back to the nuggets.
"Grillix, Jack." She called out. The now-flinching recruit was yanked from his seat as the harness was released, and hauled to the ramp.
"Enjoy the swamp."
She threw him off, too.
Right into a very disgusting swamp.

Turning to the rest, she crossed her arms. "So, any volunteers, or should I throw you off as well?" She asked cheerfully.

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Jeremy Hunter

Xi_Iota

Commissar

Jeremy Hunter

Xi_Iota

Commissar

TLI-Inferno

t0l

Havok

Jeremy Hunter