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AzricanRepublic member of RPG for 12 years

Promethean Conversation Starter Author Inspiration World Builder Conversationalist Novelist Lifegiver Tipworthy

568,503 words written.
3,465 total posts.
164 words per post.
693 posts per roleplay.
647 average days in a roleplay.
5 universes joined.
0.50 INK received in tips.

Basic Information

Username:
AzricanRepublic
Location:
Austin, Texas
Age:
40
Groups:
Began Role Playing:
06 Feb 1994
Favorite Role Playing Game:
Futuristic/Modern
Game Master:
Yes
Favorite Setting:
Modern, Future, Post-Apocalyptic

User statistics

Joined:
Sun Jul 06, 2008 2:34 am
Last visited:
Fri Mar 13, 2020 4:08 pm
Medals:
9
Total posts:
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Medals

Promethean

Promethean

Successfully created a universe for others.

Conversation Starter

Conversation Starter

Created your first topic!

Author

Author

Wrote your first piece in a universe!

Inspiration

Inspiration

Another user created a post in a universe you created!

World Builder

World Builder

Created your first non-default location in an RPG universe!

Conversationalist

Conversationalist

Participated in 10 different conversations on the forum!

Novelist

Novelist

Wrote over 80,000 total words!

Lifegiver

Lifegiver

Created a character in an RPG universe.

Tipworthy

Tipworthy

Awarded for receiving your first tip from another user!

Universes

5 created.
0 active.
5 inactive.
0 completed.

Universes Created

Whiskey Alpha Romeo

The line has been drawn and the machine of war has been stirred to life once again, across the galaxy nations prepare for the specter of war to descend upon their borders once more.

The Kronedegor Incident

The year is 2600, and the United Coalition of Organized Nations has slowly reclaimed the Outer Empire following a devastating war; but there are still enemies at the gates, not just at the gates -- but behind them as well.

Iramorbus Wars

Follow in the footsteps of soldiers defending the last vestiges of humanity and battle waves of Infected in the struggle for survival throughout the war torn battlefields of Scatter.

WAR; Deniable Operations

It is the 25th century, and the galaxy once again teeters on the brink of a conflict that would bring every nation to its knees. War has been elevated to a new, secret, deadly level; Deniable Operations.

Most Tipped Posts

0.25 INK received for post #1952068, located in Niihama:

; The furnishings of the dorm, while purchased by Scatterrans, was reflective of the student’s current country of residence. Holding ten separate rooms, some of the Scatterrans from more prominent aspects of Coalition society found their residences honestly lacking. For the majority of the students however, a mixture of Soruk and Azrican young adults, the chances to study in another country greatly outweighed the lackluster residence.

“Hey, the fuck’re you watching?” Joris said as he entered the living room, for once hearing Scatterran Aenlis rather than the native language of the country. In a cooperation between the Chagos University and another Taiyou institute, an exchange of programs between the Chagos’ Institute of Astrological Sciences. A number of the other students here with Joris were Astrology majors.

“Huh? Nothin’, just Brittlewood.” Another student remarked, looking over the couch for a moment and then turning back to the television screen. Joris narrowed his eyes at the screen and then clapped his hands together.

“Oh man, did you get to the part where the Commander throws a kid into the ion jet?”

“Hey, hey guys! You gotta’ see this, there’s a bunch a fuckin’ gangbangers in the street! It’s like that one movie ... what’d they call it ... “


0.25 INK received for post #2772305, located in Pan'Chek:

Task Force 62








”This is Coalition Radio Sagitarron, bringing you the greatest hits from the Homeland, right to the field. Here’s an oldie but a goodie from the long off 70’s, for you classic lovers out there; fight hard, marines.”






”Wait – so who rode a KEGO?”


“Not KEGO, dumbass, Keagan! Prime Minister Keagan!





Master Sergeant Jacob A. Osmos leaned into the seat of the Aruka, looking out of the open bay doors and out into the picaresque landscape of the Sagitarron foothills. The Coalition vehicle flew in a tight vee formation of three other M88 VTOLs, looming over the prepared battlefield in the early dawn hours as the sun began to climb over the mountains, bathing the approach to the Zeus range in the warm glow of a star.

UCON’s dealt with all of this shit before, a long time ago to be exact. It started in 2570 with Keagan; setting up the ground work for the Scatterran Intervention of Foreign Races Bill, allowing the Prime Minister and the Military complete legal course to intervene in any foreign national event deemed valuable to the Coalition – “ A young Corporal seated two marines down from him laid his hands out over the mechanism of the MR-18H, scratching at the underside of his chin and leaning forward onto his elbows.

“So what does that mean? The government says ‘It’s time to pick up and clean bitches out!’? Ten years later in 2580 there were a trillion Oriyaks in the OE with nothing but clothes on their backs – the UC paid more attention foreigners than the Empire?” He inquired, having to shout over the roar of the engines to make his inquiry to the Master Sergeant.

Jacob crossed an arm over his shoulder and nestled into the dropseat of the Aruka’s transport bay; the rolling hills of Sagitarron were quickly beginning to burn away into the graceful slope of a mountain hill, allowing the Aruka to flex it’s altitude at the current distance from the Coalition FOB.

“The whole system went to shit in the 80’s with the Reds. In late ’88, at the height of it all is none other than Ludvik-fuckin’-Regievko.” The Captain remarked, a slight grimace forming on his face.
“Regievko manages to repurpose the Colonial Military, partly by pouring money into it, and declares the foreign international territories under Coalition authority; Cosmics send a fleet into the Local Region and we get the Terran Conflict.”

A Private raised a hand, waving it slightly before returning it to the foreguard of the MR-18G. Adjusting the chest plate of the armor, the Private leaned onto one knee while he turned his chin up to the Master Sergeant.
“Naval warfare in it’s definition comes to being at the Terran Conflict – the Marines deposited an occupation force of twenty five million on that dirtball. That planet was ours.”

Jacob nodded over to the marine; a sign of pride amongst the marines was the operation claiming and the subsequent occupation of Terra. The Terran Authority was staffed and administrated by an excellently trained group of forces during the Coalition period of maintaining the Terran infrastructure.

“The 90’s roll around, the Reds light up the Outer Empire, and the house of cards comes falling down on Regievko. Deposed, Regievko dropped the whole government and made off with the Military Apparatus right behind him. Rohnfeld came into office and things kind of improved; ten more years of insurgencies and separatism and we have the current disposition of Scatterran forces across this galaxy … The Soviet Republics are built up to fight a small Belkan force, there are numerous stirrings in the wasp nest of New Hadden; the Reds never go away, they just get worse. There’s now an Azrican Stellar Territories on the brink of the Local Region, one trillion Scatterrans convoyed in on military vehicles, something is definitely ready to go down there. And then that brings us here, Langara; with Regievko’s son, Josef, in office the Coalition Apparatus is deploying to conflict zones across the entire galaxy using SIFR bill whether they like it or not. Fortunately, the Aschen need the help the Coalition is offering.”

The Corporal shrugged his shoulders and looked up to the cockpit of the Aruka, where the crew master and co-pilot were monitoring a bank of computer displays hardwired into the flight systems of the VTOL.

“The Terran Conflict ended with a ceasefire, but not before the Coalition began to flood the Local Region with enough marines to make even a Taiyou assault suicide. Josef Regievko rings true to his father’s intentions, with a much heavier focus of the Coalition military abroad. We’re in a new age, marines.”


“Twenty seconds!”


The co-pilot shouted from his terminal interface, alerting the Master Sergeant who rocked himself onto his feet and prepared to brief the marines of their deployment into the Zeus Mountains. Peering out the open left bay door, Jacob reached a hand to cling to a guide rail as a flight of four F/V-82 Reapers zoomed across the horizon; the ultra-light, maneuverable VTOLs were the primary Air Cavalry interceptor. Turning his eyes below, the outline of two M90 Annihilator gunships following the contours of the mountains; Jacob held on to the guide rail and turned to survey the squad of marines.

“Alright marines, listen up. We’ll be running escort for an SRI team sweeping through the mountains pre-assault – we will be the first Coalition military unit in the AO, and we will be the most effective.” He said, taking a step toward the back ramp, which was down and showed the passing scenery of the Sagittaron landscape; slowly, the Aruka began to descend with the rest of the formation, and a large patch of open grassland began to rise up toward Jacob and the VTOL.

“We are weapons red on all targets, RoE is armed and identified or suspicious; we are to provide escort duties alongside an armored unit, designation Cutter at team strength. Say hello to your mobile unit. Get ready to load up.” Jacob said, stopping at the rear bay of the Aruka and pointing to the Leopard APC slung to the rear boom of the Coalition VTOL. As the formation descended to land at the DZ, Jacob and the marines identified a two pairs of Warrior and Pathfinder armored vehicles, forming a heavy armor team capable of bringing Coalition firepower to the point of a sword. As the Aruka’s hull slowly braced against the ground, the wench clamp holding the Leopard activated from its locked position, and lowered the IFV onto the soft Sagitarron flatland. As Jacob waved the marines out of the Aruka, the crew master disembarked the VTOL to inspect the Leopard.

“Let’s get moving, mount up!” Jacob yelled as he jumped out of the rear bay of the Aruka, his hand quickly reaching out for the grip of the APC and finding it as the Aruka began to slowly pulse its engines to maneuver away from the landing zone. Jacob’s neural HUD activated as he exited the Aruka, bringing the forward-command interface to the front of the optical display.

As a marine clambered on top of the hull of the Leopard, Jacob positioned himself at the door of the Leopard as the squad of 16 marines loaded onto the IFV. The marine on the main 40mm cannon of the Leopard activated the weapon and shouted his confirmation to the Master Sergeant, who designated the other friendly vehicles as they too activated their transport and combat vehicles. Two Saber M22TB Troop Carriers and one other Leopard GV-70 IFVs formed the infantry counterpart of the four main armor forces; a single Warrior FSV peeled away from the road leading off into the mountains, breaking across the floodplain before stopping at the far distance of the drop zone.

“Woo-hoo! Thank the lord for the Heavy Ordinance Suppliers! We have HM-Five's locked and cocked!" Corporal Edit Kore shouted into his communication bead, lifting open the bay hood of the Leopard and hefting the 14.7mm HAW onto a magnetic clamp. The average Leopard was capable of carrying the weapons of the squad riding it, along with a supplement of firepower such as heavy assault weapons or launchers.

"Check for any Sackers. Alpha-1, you're providing crew. Get behind the wheel." Jacob pointed into the bay of the Leopard, identifying a Corporal and three of his subsequent fireteam members. The Corporal nodded before sliding his way through the bay of the APC and toward the drivers compound; his other marines filled the other stations of the Leopard, weaponry and navigation, and assistant gunner, while a marine manned the tandem 12.7/40mm HAW, with an attached SM-10 Striker launcher mounted beside the firing house. As the marine modified the aiming of the turret module, the optical and IR scopes of the cannons activated.

"We're eyes open, Master Sergeant. Cutter in-sight." The Private relayed, disengaging the 40mm railcaster and aiming it toward the mountains as the onboard radio of the Claymore opened with a low growl. The Coalition armored group was deposited alongside a flanking force of Aschen forces nearly 30km east; the Marine-Armored Task Force was operating within communications range of many of the forces on the continent, using reconnaissance drones to identify a tactical roadway through a crested valley of the mountains. The route was a rough estimation, but skirted across a slanting river at a small crossroads town before climbing into the mountains.

"This is Wheelspinner to all Coalition forces; allied proximity confirmed. Marine-Armor is operating west of your position, Aschen personnel. Identify for support." The signal was broadcast by the platoon Lieutenant, operating from an open-top M22TB troop carrier; his squad and attached marksman team were positioned on the road with their vehicle. As the Leopard began to roll towards the street with the remaining vehicles, it was passed by the other Leopard IFV of Bravo platoon; the GV-70 was outfitted in the SA7AT format, sporting an 125mm anti-tank cannon along the firing turret. The pair of Leopard's climbed up the hill as Jacob reached out and pulled the door closed, watching the ground move by under the wheels of the Leopard.