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Thread: French Mod 1914 Alternate History AAR (1897- ?) Les Flammes des Ténèbres

  1. #581
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    I fear Rommel may have drunk really much.

  2. #582
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    Aww, did Rommel the Leon-wannabe get injected with something?
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  3. #583
    Colonel gaiasabre11's Avatar

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    Quote Originally Posted by Kurt_Steiner View Post
    Oh no... tell me that Rommel hasn't become of one the THINGS...
    We'll see...

    Quote Originally Posted by Enewald View Post
    I fear Rommel may have drunk really much.
    Quote from a long time ago:

    “I do not drink. It is bad for your liver.” - Erwin Rommel the Elder.

    Why does he not drink (and smoke actually) will also be explained later in the story.

    Quote Originally Posted by ColossusCrusher View Post
    Aww, did Rommel the Leon-wannabe get injected with something?
    You should ask yourself who did it rather than if it was done or not.

    ...


    btw, recently I just went to the Museum of Flight in Seattle, Washington.

    I have to admit that the Spit is one of the best, if not the best-looking fighter in WW2.


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  4. #584
    Colonel gaiasabre11's Avatar

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    Yet another update. No pics yet. I'm still trying to find some.

    ...


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    Chapter XII



    Rommel woke up with a headache. It was unusual for him to wake up with his head seeminglybeing banged by a hammer continuously.

    “Are you ready awake, Major Rommel?” asked Smuts from outside the door.

    Rommel wished he had answered no, and he didn’t get up from his bed that day.


    British Army Temporary HQ, outskirts of Johannesburg


    “This is an outrage! Ever since what happened at Pretoria I expected things to at least stay in control!”

    Lord Kitchener was not happy. To be more precise was furious. The table under his fist clearly felt that with a great slam.

    “My Lord, we have received intelligence from locals that there are plenty of recent activities of the Natives in some mines that they called the “King Solomon’s Mines”,” said one of the Generals sitting around the same table as Lord Kitchener.

    “King Solomon? What King Solomon?”

    “King Solomon from the Biblical Stories, my Lord,” said t aide from the side.

    “King Solomon? What has anything to with him here in Africa?” laughed Kitchener.

    “My Lord, I strongly recommend that we send in an army to crush the Savages once and for all!” cried another one of Kitchener’s Generals.

    “Very well, I shall send one thousand men under my command to do the job, and the commander is...”

    “You better not disappoint me, Colonel Quatermain,” said Kitchener finally.

    A men stepped out of the crowd. His hair was as white as snow, but his eyes were that of a Lion’s.

    “Yes, my Lord,” asnwered Quatermain full of pride.



    (Pic for Quatermain. Lacks a good smile. )


    ...


    “According to our intelligence, the smelly Brits had taken our bait. They have sent an army towards the Mines...”

    Rommel looked at Smuts’ eyes as Smuts explained their next operation. They did not resemble any of the eyes he had seen before. They were in the process of reddening, most probably due to excitement.

    “Is there something that made you hate the British so much?” asked Rommel suddenly.

    A slience stood still between the two men, until Smuts finally broke it.

    “Major Rommel, do you have any idea how much Boer Blood the Brits had spilled on my land?”

    Rommel could not produce anything, not even an estimate.

    “Do you know how they spilled our blood? Do you know how they suck the life out of every one of us?”

    Rommel could not answer again.

    “Do you wish to know about them all? The answers to my questions?”

    At this point, Rommel could see Smuts’ eyes even redder than a ripe apple. To be honest to himself, Rommel did not want to know, but his memories took him back to the “Camps” at that day.

    “Let me ask you another question. Do you happen to know what happened to Paul Kruger?” said Rommel finally.

    “Dead as he should be, of course. I personally ended the traitor’s life with a bullet from my rifle.”

    Rommel did not like what Smuts was before him. A man dominated by revenge and hatred.

    “Major Rommel, there’s also one last thing I’d like to report,” said Smuts.

    Before Rommel could ask what Smuts wanted to report, Smuts handed Rommel a small letter envelope. After a slight hesitation, Rommel quickly opened the envelope.

    It cannot be said that he disliked the letter’s content. A better description would be that Rommel was totally disgusted.


    A week later, somewhere near the Mines


    The one thousand men strong British Army advanced in a single column. The army had been marching continuously for a week without much other activities.

    “Are we there yet?” asked Colonel Sanders impatiently.

    “No, Colonel,” replied his lieutenant.

    “I just could not understand this. Why would Lord Kitchener appointed that old fool Quatermain as the commander when Quatermain didn’t even show up on the day we left? Even more ridiculous is why am I only a “temporary” replacement? That old fool should be relieved off his duty when he failed to show up!”

    After listening to Sanders’ complain, the lieutenant could not help but think that his superior was an old fool himself.

    As the soldiers marched, the front look out suddenly came to report. It appeared that they had just reached the entrance of the Mines.

    “Order the men to stop. Send some scouting squad inside to take a look. The rest shall make camp for the night,” ordered Colonel Sanders.

    Within a couple of hours, tents were set up, and after the men cooked and ate supper, the lights were blown. Soon the majority of the men were asleep, with the exception of some guards on night shifts.

    “Why are we doing night shifts again? It’s all because of you getting drunk and went mad. Now look at me when I’m talking to you!” cried one of the guards to his companion angrily.

    “C’mon, I just had a tad more than I ususally have. Furthermore, nobody was hur...” replied the other guard, before his heart was pierced by a flaming spear.

    “An... an ambu...!” The other guard also could not finish his words. A flaming spear literally clogged the words in his throat by penetrating through the guard’s neck.

    Soon after the fall of the two guards, dozens of flaming spears and arrows rained down on the British Army Camps.


    Some distance away, nearby high grounds.


    Rommel did not like his current situation. Aside from Smuts and his Legionnaire squad, he was standing beside a large number of Zulu Warriors. The Zulu Warriors were throwing flamming spears and arrows into the camps with great accuracy. It was clear that the camps were flooding with more and more flames.

    It’s not like that Rommel did not like reconcilment with his former enemies, but it’s just really wasn’t comfortable for Rommel watching his former enemies doing what he did not like, especially those things he was so good at himself.

    “Now for some specials,” said Smuts excitedly. The reason of his excitement was explosive. A cart full of them.

    It was not long before Smuts and a few fellow Legionnaires sent the cart rolling down the small hill at high speeds. The cart rolled down unstopped into the centre of the camp site and slammed into its intended target: the ammo dump of the British army.

    An explosion, or rather a grand explosion, erupted at the site of the ammo dump. Pieces of everything that was previously nearby were all blown to the sky, and rained down dozens to hundreds of metres away. The resulting fire illuminated the night sky, but whether or not it was more “fascinating” then the cries of the men was an open question.

    “Hahahaha! That’s what you get for pissing me off! Hahaha!”

    Rommel watched Smuts taunted the victims of Smuts’ action. Rommel wanted to be honest of what he thought about Smuts, and everything in his mind about Smuts was revolving around one word.


    Ugly.


    A flying piece of remain went straight for the top of Rommel’s head. But Rommel dodged it easily through his reflex. However some unknown liquid still managed to spill onto Rommel’s cheek.

    Feeling the hot liquid trailing down his cheek, Rommel wiped it off with his hand. As expected by Rommel, his hand was dyed red.

    ...


    The fire in the camps had become uncontrollable. It seemed that the enemy had planned where the fire should be. Every possible exit to the open field outside was blocked by the fire, the remaining path out of the inferno was the entrance of the Mines.

    “What should we do? What should we do?” asked Colonel Sanders frantically. It was obviously he didn’t want to be deep fried by the flames.

    “Into the Mines! Into the Mines!” cried one of his lieutenants. Going into the Mines was the only sensible way left for them if they desired to live.

    The scattered survivors of the onslaught frantically rushed into the Mines. It was an ugly retreat. Those who could still walk lived. Those who couldn’t cried out their desire to live, but only the flames answered them.

    ...


    “Alright. Next phase of the operation begins now, Major Rommel,” said Smuts cheerfully. “This way, Major Rommel.”

    Smuts revealed a secret path just beside him. It was obvious that it was a secret path leading into the Mines. In no time Smuts and his men, along with all the Zulu warriors were in, leaving Rommel alone with the night breeze.

    Rommel did not feel comfortable fighting along side those what he was refering as “monsters”, but it’s not like that he had much choice.

    “Would you please all come out?” asked Rommel suddenly to no one in particular.

    “When did you notice us around you, Major Rommel,” asked Quatermain. Quatermain, along with Holmes, Watson, and Mata Hari all appeared.

    “... You have more important things to ask, am I not right, Monsieur Quatermain?”

    “... Yes. Would you like to serve under British Crown?”

    “... Yes.”
    Last edited by gaiasabre11; 24-08-2009 at 20:09.
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  5. #585
    Marshal of the Empire BritishImperial's Avatar

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    finally the man sees sense reminded me of lord of the rings, that. into the mines!
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  6. #586
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    This Smuts has changed quite a lot... too much, I guess...
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  7. #587
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    Quote Originally Posted by BritishImperial View Post
    finally the man sees sense reminded me of lord of the rings, that. into the mines!
    And another shall fall as the victim of the balrog, or as a slave of the British Empire.

    Kill that Briton!

  8. #588
    Colonel gaiasabre11's Avatar

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    Quote Originally Posted by BritishImperial View Post
    finally the man sees sense reminded me of lord of the rings, that. into the mines!
    We'll see. btw, I'll reserve LOTR references for the short dramas.

    Quote Originally Posted by Kurt_Steiner View Post
    This Smuts has changed quite a lot... too much, I guess...
    Well, guess who's behind this.

    Quote Originally Posted by Enewald View Post
    And another shall fall as the victim of the balrog, or as a slave of the British Empire.

    Kill that Briton!
    haha, no balrog, but something like that.
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  9. #589
    British Unionist trekaddict's Avatar
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    Quote Originally Posted by gaiasabre11 View Post
    you should ask yourself who did it rather than if it was done or not.
    ...


    btw, recently i just went to the museum of flight in seattle, washington.

    I have to admit that the spit is one of the best, if not the best-looking fighter in ww2.


    praise the lord for he has seen the light and mercy of all that is cool and awesome!
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  10. #590
    Colonel gaiasabre11's Avatar

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    Quote Originally Posted by trekaddict View Post
    praise the lord for he has seen the light and mercy of all that is cool and awesome!
    I've always thought Spit as a cool and sexy plane since I was small. But it's different when I actually have one just half a metre away from me.

    btw, here's another pic of the lady:


    Last edited by gaiasabre11; 24-08-2009 at 21:37.
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  11. #591
    Colonel gaiasabre11's Avatar

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    Update before my 1st anniversary update.

    ...


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    The Mines was full of darkness. The few torches and oil lamps the men had with them could barely extend their field of view. The ceiling of the cave was high above the men’s heads, while the path the men were walking on was not wide, perhaps just enough for a man to stretch his arms apart.

    The entrance was completely blocked by the flames, and even if the flames died out relatively quick, there will probably be folks thirsty for the men’s blood waiting outside. The men could only advance into the cave and hope that there’s a way out somewhere.

    As the men slowly walked down the path, a few pebbles suddenly tumbled down the rocky walls of the path.

    “Colonel! There’s something above!” cried one of the soldiers.

    “Open fire! I don’t care what it is!” barked Colonel Sanders.
    The soldiers obeyed and fired their rifles blindly above their heads. However, the bullets hit nothing but rock. Big rocks.

    “Time for some entertainment!” cried Smuts high above the British soldier’s heads. Soon enough Legionnaires with Zulu Warriors beside them pushed rocks of great size over the edge. The rocks were greeted below by men with surprised look aimed upwards.

    ~Crunch~

    It was basically a life or death situation. Those who got hit by the rocks died, those who didn’t live. There wasn’t any middle ground to talk about. Although some only had their legs crushed for a moment, soon more rocks crushed the rest of their bodies, so it didn’t matter at all.

    The survivors ran as fast as their legs could possibly carry them. The ceiling above them narrows and the pathway they were on became more like a tunnel. Suddenly, a faint light awaits them at the end of the pathway, and seeing light as hope, the men ran for it.

    “Out of my way! I’m coming through!” cried Colonel Sanders as he seek for the first place in the run for the light.

    As Colonel Sanders reached the end of the tunnel, he suddenly realized that he had come to a dead end.

    Colonel Sanders thought he had braked himself quite well. Just an inch away from the end of his feet was a bottomless pit, but he had managed to completely stop his motion. However, the men behind him had no knowledge of what was in front of them, and they rammed into the Colonel’s back.

    “Shit!” thought the Colonel as the momentum of the men caused him to fall along with his men. He regretted the fact that he had joined the army, instead of immigrating to America and starting some business there. Perhaps opening a restaurant that sells fried chicken would be nice. Colonel Sanders loved fried chicken.

    Suddenly, Colonel Sanders could feel someone’s grab on him. A really strong grab that was.

    “I’m not really specialized in saving someone else’s ass, Monsieur Holmes,” said Rommel blatantly as he lifted Colonel Sanders plump body up.

    “To be fair, me neither,” replied Holmes in the same manner as he also lifted another man up.

    “Hey! Over here!” cried the soldiers from the other side of the pit from where Rommel and the others were. A good ten plus metres seperated the two groups of men in terms of height, and a few metres by width. However, it is still possible to make a cross over with some ropes of good strength.

    But it didn’t seem to matter for Rommel and the others to try and get the men at the other side to their side. Soon enough some random gunshots could be heard from behind the men of the other side, following immediately by the cry of fear, agony, and death.

    It became obvious that the men of the other side were being attacked, and they were also being forced closer and closer to the pit and their death.

    Suddenly, men began to fell down due the laws of physics. Although Rommel and the others did grab a few live ones, grabbing ones that had too many holes was not useful at all.



    (Perhaps the Zulu war cry is "THIS IS ZULU!!!")



    A small waterfall was formed at the other side of the pit, except it was blood that was flowing instead of water.

    Colonel Sanders looked around him as he trembled in fear. Aside from himself, there were only half a dozen of his men who were also saved, out of the grand total of one thousand. What kind of enemy were they facing?

    There were four men and a women who he had no idea of their identity. However, one of them does seem familiar.

    “Hey! Aren’t you Colonel Quatermain? What are you doing here?” cried out Colonel Sanders surprisingly.

    “I’ll answer all your questions later, Colonel Sanders,” answered Quatermain coldly. It wasn’t really the moment to relax as several Zulu warriors made the great jump over the bottomless pit to where they were.

    Rommel didn’t want to waste bullets. He knew that there will be a lot more “troubles” coming that night. He simply dodged his enemies’ attacks and sent them off-balanced down the pit. It didn’t seem like a fair fight at all, despite the fact the Zulu Warriors were all armed with gigantic spears probably used for hunting elephants.

    “Impressive, Monsieur Rommel, impressive. But where are we, anyways?” asked Holmes.

    “From what I heard... we’re in King Solomon’s Mines,” answered Rommel.

    “Yes, I know about that. But where are we in the Mines,” asked Holmes.

    All of them took a good look at their surroundings. It was as if they found a lost civilization.

    Every one of them had heard of the stories of Great Civilizations that was lost in the drift of time. They seemed to just found themselves in one of the scenes in the legends, where the galant explorer rediscovered a lost world for humanity.

    It appeared that they had arrive at some place used for worshiping. Although in a shape of disrepair, long paved roads still lead to various chambers that were probably used to store tributes, and altars that were most likely used to present offerings to God.

    There were large cracks in the ceiling that allow natural light to provide some lighting, but strangely enough it was the torches alight everywhere that provided the main source of light.

    The torches revealed a sign of use lately in the ruins. The fresh blood on the altars also served the same purpose.

    “I don’t really think it’s time for as to be in awe...” said Quatermain suddenly.

    True. More Zulu warriors were jumping down to where they were. Their numbers were great enough to even make Rommel worry.

    After a fighting retreat where the Zulu warriors were finally forced to withdraw, Colonel Sanders could not resist his body from collapsing. It was really too much exercise for an aged man like him for one sleepless night.

    “I can’t take it... anymore...” said Colonel Sanders as he landed his ass on a slab of rock and leaned on the wall behind him to catch his breath. The rest of the group all seemed more or less exhausted.

    “I guess we can take a short rest here,” said Holmes. “Watson, and Mrs. Quatermain, would you two please take care of the wounds substained by the soldiers?”

    “Certainly, Holmes. Now, if you please, Mrs. Quatermain,” said Watson as he and Mata Hari both went to the tend the wounds of the surviving soldiers.

    “There’s one thing I’d like to ask, Mr. Quatermain,” said Holmes to Quatermain suddenly as they all found somewhere to sit.

    “What is it?” asked Quatermain wearily.

    “Previously, when I asked about the man, Jack, you refered to him as Dorian, Dorian Gray. However, from what I know about that man, he was used to be known as Mr. Jekyll, or by the name Mr. Hyde.”

    Quatermain did not respond at first, but finally did after a long minute.

    “Sigh... You did your work regarding about that man’s past, Mr. Holmes. That man can be refered to by both names. However, I’d like to refer to him as Dorian.”

    “Is there a personal reason for that?” asked Holmes.

    “Yes, that’s the name I used to refer to him when we were friends, friends of the same age.”

    Suddenly, the top section of the wall where they were leaning against was blasted off. Colonel Sanders could feel his something sticking into him from behind and coming out front. A restaurant with him cooking and selling fried chicken really did seem distant to him.

    As pieces of brick were flying off, Rommel and the others could see the bloody eyes of the Chief glaring at them. The Chief discarded Colonel’s Sanders’ lifeless body like a broken doll, and looked ready to look for another victim.

    “I suppose this is something belonging to your department, Monsieur Rommel,” said Holmes.

    “I agree,” said Rommel.

    Despite his deep instinct screaming in his mind to make a run for it, Rommel stood firm. Somehow Rommel was just determined to settle the issues between this Goaliath and himself, once and for all.

    ...


    “I wonder how our Major Rommel is going on,” said Smuts standing.

    “Who knows, but hopefully it’s all going as planned,” answered Jack with his unusually eerie smile. Jack felt comfortable lying on the crimson flower bed Ayesha bathed in, but Brutus beside him was just hungry.

    “Here, Brutus, have some of these flowers. High fibre.”

    Brutus did what his master asked him to do. Urrgghhhh, not as good as meat.

    However, from the point of view of Smuts, it appeared that Brutus’ muscle mass was growing visibly.

    ...


    btw, folks, here's a battle in the ruiins might look like.
    Last edited by gaiasabre11; 28-08-2009 at 19:58.
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  12. #592
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    Sanders could win the Zulus to his side simply by offering them some fried chicken.

  13. #593
    Colonel gaiasabre11's Avatar

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    Quote Originally Posted by Enewald View Post
    Sanders could win the Zulus to his side simply by offering them some fried chicken.
    Unfortunately, the Zulus like Big Macs better.

    btw, Enewald, I missed the last bit of the update I was supposed to post. It's now being added.
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  14. #594
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    And as next Rommel shall say to the Goliath, 'you shall not pass'?

  15. #595
    Colonel gaiasabre11's Avatar

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    Quote Originally Posted by Enewald View Post
    And as next Rommel shall say to the Goliath, 'you shall not pass'?
    Perhaps the oldest trick in the book: "Your shoelaces are untied"?

    Naah, just expect another big fight.

    Quote Originally Posted by quantum View Post
    ok another comment, keep up!

    and shoot the damn bastards, plus i demand a gameplay update.
    I almost can't find an update of mine without shooting in it. btw, a gameplay update will not come for sometime. The plot is more important to me than the gameplay, just to let you know.
    Last edited by gaiasabre11; 29-08-2009 at 07:37.
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  16. #596
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    Ok, folks, here's my a little belated 1st anniversary update, part II of something I've written sometime before. And yay! It's one year already. Thanks for the support guys! However, this update is still subject to change.


    Les Flammes des Ténèbres: Les Chevaliers du Ciel




    ...


    PlaceHolder

    Off the coast of Netherlands, Frigate Hr. Ms. Karel Doorman



    (The Karel Doorman belongs to my Normandie 120 design. )



    “Fire!” cried the Captain of the Karel Doorman.

    The frigate fired her first salvo of 16 Aster 30 missiles at her targets. Being the only major warship active in the area, the vessel shoulder a heavy duty.

    As the Asters approached their targets for the kill, the Tridents also responded to their incoming threat. Out of the 16 ICBMS some where destroyed completely, but others instantly released their warheads.

    After releasing reports from his men, the Dutch Captain of the Karel Doorman cursed in his mind. Over 100 nuclear warheads still existed to destroy the happy retirement he had waited for 35 years.

    “Prepare for second salvo of our remaining Aster 30s ... Fire!”

    At the command of the Captain, the remaining 48 Aster 30s lifted off from their containing module.

    Sweat was coming out of the Captain’s forehead. He had lived a mostly peaceful life. His service in the Navy involved few deployments overseas, and he was glad to have a retirement soon to spend time with his new born grandchildren.

    As report of more hits by the Asters, the Captain issued another command.

    “Prepare the Aster-15s and the guns for our last defense...”
    Suddenly, a call came through, and the Captain did not like what he heard.

    “What do you mean they are hacked? You mean every SAM missile site west of Berlin is not functioning. @#$%^%!!!!!”

    Just as the Captain cursed through the phone, suddenly almost all the systems on board the ship, including all the combat systems, were shut down.

    “@#$%^%!!!!! Reboot the systems, and prepare to activate back-up systems, hurry! Hurry!” barked the Captain.

    The Captain thought that his retiring plan became that not as bright as he wished, until something suddenly interrupted his thought.

    The corner of his eyes caught something flying at most likely supersonic speed. He immediately grabbed a binoculars for a better look. What exactly was that aircraft?

    It was then he could see the explosions in the clear, cloudless sky that probably started the end of all peace in existance.


    Some moments before...


    “Reaching max altitude 22,500 metres, prepare to use boosters.”

    The Rafale Verde was climbing at supersonic speeds as the female voice of the man-to-machine interface filled the cockpit of the Rafale. Verde was instantly accelerated as the wing-mounted booster provided extra thrust to the aircraft. However the pilot didn’t seem to pay too much attention to it.

    Fina took off her helmet to play with her hair, although it also meant not being able to see again. However, Fina could not resist brushing her beautiful long hair with her hands. Putting on the helmet did ruin her hairstyle of the day.

    “I had this hairstyle made specially for today...” muttered Fina before she put her helmet back on.

    Fina noticed the radar showed a friendly vessel in nearby waters, she was a bit relieved at the fact that at least someone was there to lighten her workload.

    “Now for some work again, before a hot shower.”

    After reaching the max altitude attainable with the boosters, Fina activated some mechanisms with the controls, and Rafale Verde was ready to take another shape.

    The two SNECMA engines extended out of the main fuselage to form the legs, while mechanical arms stretched out alongside the legs. A protective armor/visual displayer covered the glass cockpit, and the “face” of the Verde became visible.



    (Transforming...)



    (This is most probably what I'm hoping for, but with a different head design. )



    The Verde caught its gun originally mounted between the engines. It was a semi-auto sniper cannon capable of firing hyper velocity 55mm shells.

    The displays inside the cockpit provided the view of the sky, and highlighted all the warheads ready to be destroyed. The helmet display itself provided a red cross for Fina’s crystal blue eyes to aim.

    “All targets, locked on!” cried Fina before she pulled the trigger.

    The Verde fired at a leaned back position, with the tip of the gunbarrel pointed towards the sky. With each shot from the Verde’s sniper cannon, 55mm shells pierced each nuclear warhead one after the other with extreme accuracy. However, more and more warheads were emerging out of the mid-air explosions and continued on their path for destruction.

    Fina then unleashed the Verde’s load of weapons carried on the wing hardpoints. 20 missiles swarm out of their containers and went straight for their individual targets. Explosions in the air immediately followed.



    (Yay! Missiles! )



    Fina fired another salvo of 20 missiles at the swarm of nuclear warheads. The warheads were obviously trying to evade the missiles. However, the missiles still made hits as made obvious by more explosions in the sky.

    Switching back to the sniper cannon, Fina fired again and again with her gun. 55mm cartridge cases were being ejected out of the sniper cannon probably as fast as possible.

    Strangely enough, it seemed that the target of the warheads were being reset as their trajectory suddenly took a deep dive in the sky.

    “Predict trajectory of the targets!” cried Fina inside the cockpit nervously.

    “Predicting trajectory... target, Brussels.”

    By changing their target, the warheads had significantly reduced the time for their interception.

    The warheads were already approaching the sky above the shore, meaning that the interception time had almost been reduced to nil.

    “Estimate time of impact, 60 seconds,” came the female voice of the MtM interface.

    There were still 10 warheads left that must be destroyed at all cost. It was a race against time.

    “Just trying to find something to blow up?” thought Fina in her mind as she took aim again.

    Fina opened fire again, however, the warheads suddenly began to evade more wildly than before, causing some shots to miss. But still, explosions resulted from impact brighten the sky.

    “Estimate time of impact, 30 seconds.”

    The total number of the warheads were reduced to a mere 2. However, the coast below, and the fields beyond were already fairly visible. Brussels was just a few dozens of kilometere away. The thought of a new crater with the name of Brussels was unthinkable.

    However, in the cockpit of Verde, Fina seemed to have something else in mind.

    “I don’t want to fail again... I don’t want to be unwanted again...”

    Fina sounded like a terrified little girl, and shivered in the cockpit. She seemed to be giving up hope, and just wish everything was a dream.

    Out of a sudden, a salvo of 30 mm rounds slammed into the remainding 2 warheads. 2 mid-air explosions marked the end of the nuclear attack.

    It was Verde’s pair, Noir, holding its gatling cannon with its right “hand”. Smoke was still visible around the still hot barrels. The humanoid like machine was hovering in mid air with its two powerful engines providing thrust downwards. The “eyes” were fixed on the descending Verde.

    A window in the Verde opened up, and Sera in his pilot suit became visible above the waist.

    “Fina, prepare for refueling,” came Sera’s voice.

    “Sera! Why are you here?” asked Fina surprised.

    “Mission... ”

    Sera’s Noir approached Fina’s Verde. Noir’s mechanical arms got hold of the two external fuel tanks as they detached from its wings, and Sera then piloted the Noir to attach the fuel tanks onto Fina’s Verde.

    A mid air buddy to buddy refueling was done within 1 minute. Perhaps it was time to contact the Michelin World Records.

    “Thank you, Sera! You’re a savior! These things really do consume a lot of fuel,” said Fina cheerfully.

    “Next phase of the mission begins soon, we have no time to waste,” said Sera sounding a bit coldly.

    “... What should I do for the next phase of the mission?” asked Fina.

    “... Just watch my back,” said Sera in a rather small voice.

    Fina felt happy. At least she was needed by this man. However Fina then noticed something on Noir’s arms.

    “Sera... what you Rafale is carrying...” asked Fina worriedly.

    “Yes, they are for the “warning shot”.”

    Both Noir and Verde transformed back to their fighter mode. 2 ASMP++ Nuclear missiles were visibly mounted on Noir for their final destination: London.


    (I refuse to resize this babe. (unless a mod asks me to do it.))
    Last edited by gaiasabre11; 31-08-2009 at 12:55.
    When we created Artificial Intelligence, we also created Artificial Stupidity. - Gaia commenting on robots.
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  17. #597
    Pantomacatalasecesionanis ta

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    I'm not reading, but I hate waiting.
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  18. #598
    Colonel gaiasabre11's Avatar

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    Quote Originally Posted by Kurt_Steiner View Post
    I'm not reading, but I hate waiting.
    hey, no stopping, but it may not be the best quality stuff yet.

    EDIT: Go ahead and read. But as usual the stuff is still subject to some changes.
    Last edited by gaiasabre11; 31-08-2009 at 12:50.
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  19. #599
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    Obliterating London?


    Mmmmh... a bit too much, isn't it?
    Fan número uno de Ailee para el resto de la eternidad y un poco más.
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  20. #600
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    Nuking London?
    Wouldn't that be a bit too close to French soil?

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