Deployed as AttackFor (AAF) Alpha 1 AR
As one of the dudes with a big gun, I made it my charge to stay back from everyone else as they blobbed about following our FTL. It's a good thing that no FIA was watching the northern fields from whence we approached, as my five comrades would have made one hell of a GP target as they advanced in nice, channelizing ditches that accentuate and concentrate the compression waves while constricting fragments and ricochets into a confined zone of splintery death...
Eugh, excuse me a moment while I change. zip. shuffle-shuffle-shuffle. whisp. ziiiiip. Ah, fresh pants. Where was I?
Oh, right - hanging back from the rest of the fireteam as we advanced into the city. Urban terrain has a tendency to break things up a bit and slow the squad, so I took my time and selected nice, commanding buildings to set up in - I might've been a little more exposed, but I sure swept some streets with delicious overwatch... against an entrenched enemy who wasn't about to move and give me a target. Well, it was a nice thought.
We kept advancing, sporadic fire keeping us on our toes, and then a flurry of fire came from very close in. I kicked open the nearest door and started scanning the next street, only to spot a... suspicious sight. Little did I know it was a dastardly-- Okay, we all knew it was a trap, but:
I cleared out the two-story with the broken window, then poked my head through the doorway of the next building over, where I saw a dude in a very fetching bandana heft his smoking machine-gun and take a long, romantic pull of a cigarette. I was quick and heavy on the trigger, firing a nice, barely controlled 50-round burst, and the trap ended with one of my compatriots dead and unaccounted for in the chaos, and quite a bit of ammunition expended in return for one thoroughly dead Sparks. I'll take it!
Our FTL fell in short order, Tigershark shortly thereafter, and I smoothly seized the reins of Alpha 1, pushing our dwindling numbers towards the central triangular park around which the defenders seemed to be congregating. We contented ourselves with cementing our stranglehold of the buildings to the north of said park while our Squad Lead and the survivors of an MMG team pushed into the park from the west. As they provided security, I set a charge on the crate of crucial rebel supplies, set the timer for a minute-and-a-half, and the vital rebel equipment exploded, shards of Green ACO sights raining down across the cityscape of Zaros.
Some clever maneuvering on the part of the enemy slowly whittled us away, but they were suffering just as severely. We took more of them than they did of us, and a straight, tenacious firefight favors AAF more than it does FIA.
VICTORY! Comrade Eski, however. A word?
Yes, see, the good comrades here will show you to your cell, where you will await your show-trial for the gratuitous use of explosive ordinance against civilian buildings. Any good comrade knows that the international tribunal must never see actual evidence of our just and righteous behavior, so we must limit our wanton slaughter of non-combatants to personal small-arms fire where we can claim a response to imminent danger. Heavy ordinance is right out, as outlined in the Comrade's Guide to Avoiding (being prosecuted for) War Crimes, Chapter 7, Section 3, sub-section B, paragraph 13.
On a more serious note: The "No heavy ordinance against buildings" ROE is a more or less standard rule for vehicles for a reason. Part of the ground rules of being a guest here at Folk ARPS is to respect the fun of other guests, and guests typically don't find it fun to be killed early in a match in a manner that they cannot defend against. We trust that everyone in attendance can respect our sparse rules so as to promote everyone's enjoyment of the session. Let the crunchies flush the enemy out of their buildings and into the streets and forests - there you can shred them with 30-mike-mike shells to your heart's content!
~ Ferrard
