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Very much a spur-of-the-moment idea here, inspired by recent updates, this one's a set of short stories really. Each around 3-4 parts, and starring members of an elite sub-division of SOLDIER. Parodies yet another British made thing no one here's ever seen with it's title and the events of this first part. Have this one, and five others, planned, but each story will be stand-alone hopefully.

Figure a plot overveiw might be needed: Crimson Troop are an elite unit normally used for counter-terrorism... NORMALLY. They're somewhat akin to the SAS, and are part of a sub-unit of SOLDIER. The story will parody quite a lot, mostly over-the-top war movies, and also Rainbow Six. A lot of that.


Final Fantasy Seven
Ultima Farce. Story One: Over-The-Counter Terrorism
Part One.
Midgar, Upper Sector Three
6:00AM
A television sat in the corner of a room in a house. A shape lay upon the sofa, but as the sun climbed up into the sky, dawn having broke about twenty minutes earlier, nothing stirred, except the image on the television. An obnoxious Breakfast TV presenter was announcing the news. At least, had the TV not been on mute, he would have been.

Suddenly, the silenced was disturbed by a scream from the door.
"SOLDIER!" came the cry, followed virtually instantly by a deafening bang, and a huge flash, as the door was blown off.
Before the door had even landed, men in black , carrying Submachine guns, ran in, the laser sights of the weapons becoming red lines of light in the smoke and dust of the explosion, and shots were fired at the shape. The television also was hit, and some of the soldiers stormed up the stairs. The remainder searched the house, and yells of 'clear!' came from all rooms.

Except the kitchen, where the trooper yelled 'BEER!’ and opened the fridge.

Then the troops came down from upstairs, and there was a massive explosion.

6:12AM
Ten troopers of SOLDIERs elite Airborne Service, a unit formed in the '80s for counter terrorist purposes. It took the best of SOLDIERs first-class firearms troopers, and not one of its 1500 Infantrymen carried a sword. They took a great deal of mocking from the other units about this, but that didn't change anything. Especially not the fact there wasn't an opponent of the Shin-Ra anywhere on the planet who didn't need to change their underwear when you mentioned the Airborne Service.

Or, for that matter, any SOLDIER outside the AS who didn't when you told him "And there's one of those gun-carrying nancyboys behind you..."

The black uniforms of all ten had the emblem of the AS on the left arm, an image of a dragon in flight, burning a house, with the motto "Benidi Olvi, Aprochi Imidi*" below it. Submachine guns were slung, helmets and gas masks were off.

Their commander approached, Colonel Filby. Filby had his sky blue AS beret on, with the badge of the unit in gold, over his brown, thinning, and greying hair. His eyes were hidden behind sunglasses at this moment, as he was that kind of commander.
"Nice work, gentlemen. Sergeant Silias, let us review this little operation."
"Sir," said a bald man, with Sergeant's stripes. Henry Silias, the team leader of Crimson Troop, and leader of element one.
They neared the door, the nine NCO's behind. Each and every one was at least a corporal, with the exception of element two's lead, Sergeant Peter Zacharias.
"Now, Peter, I am to understand your team went in the back door, yes?"
"Um... yes sir," Said the NCO. Two of his element snuck off whilst the colonel was distracted.
The eight soldiers and one officer walked in the pulverised front door.
"Ah, sawdust. Nothing better than three flash bangs to take out the door, eh?" Filby said.
"Actually sir, it was a Light Antitank Rocket," said a trooper.
"JIM!" Silias yelled.
"No, Jim, that was the BACK door," said another trooper.
"ANDREW!" yelled Zacharias.
"Of the House?" another trooper asked.
"JIM!" Silias repeated.
"Yeah. Remember, we used all the flash bangs last night to steal those cars by blowing their doors off and then hotwiring them, so Sarge said just use a LATR-80 on the door and a car round the back," One more trooper proclaimed.
"HENRY!"
"You're Henry, Henry," Filby said.
"Oh, right... Who said about the cars? Silias asked. By this time, every other trooper was now hiding in the bushes except the two Sergeants. Filby pretended not to notice.
"Jamie. Or rather, JAMIE! If you feel shouting is needed."
"Yessir, thankyousir," Said the NCO like a small boy who thinks he might have just escaped but realises that the shouting is about to really begin and yes, there will be no pocket money, for 2-6 weeks.
"Anyway... good initiative to get the doors off... what make of cars?" Filby asked.
"Midgar Dynamic Aerospace and Icicle Motors mostly. Oh, and one was a Lockair LCVS-4," Zacharias said.
"The Nibelhiemian knockoff of the Shinra SX-3?" the commander asked.
"Yes," Henry responded.
"Insured?"
"Not any more," Said Zacharias .
"Not one Shin-Ra made car?"
"Not one," Silias confirmed.
"Excellent." The sergeants were now safe in the knowledge they could buy sweeties for a while yet.
"Well, Except major Honour's sir."
"Who?"
"The Commander of SOLDIER Brigade four."
"What?"
"The regular SOLDIER unit for Midgar City."
"Yes. And?"
"The man who you don't like much."
"Why?"
"He went to your school."
"So?"
"He cut in line in front of you one day."
"Yes, and?"
"He got the last packet of cheese and onion crisps . Back in 1971."
"BASTARD! Did you crash it?" Filby said.
"Better sir, parked it in Sector Seven Lower!"
"Oh, I so want to see the look on his face when he finds it..." said Zacharias . By this time, the other eight men had returned.

Lower Sector Seven, 9:00AM
"Sir, we found it... but it isn't pretty," said a SOLDIER first class.
The wrecked vehicle sat in the train graveyard, keyed, buster sword stabbed, minigunned, punched, and covered in urine.
The Major stared. Beside him, a trio of Turks stood.
"Ah, yet another inside car theft. Not a crime committed after all," said one.
"What?! But Mister Tseng, it's been..." said the female Turk officer.
"Elena, its doors have been blown off by army issue bombs. It's been stabbed by an army issue sword. This car theft is not our jurisdiction."
"What about the minigun and urine, sir?"
"Well, if you think yourself an expert on either, go right ahead but we're leaving before Honour starts crying. It's an internal issue for SOLDIER to handle," Said Tseng, as he and the other Turk walked off.

The Major screamed in anger at that point.

A Bar, seconds later, Sector Seven Lower
"Owch, that was loud!" said a man.
"Shut up, fool, other people in here have more important injuries!" another said, slamming his machine-gun for a hand on the table.
"Well, Barret, you shouldn't have punched the car. Or widdled on the sparkplug."
"Tifa, I was DRUNK!"
"By booze you didn't buy here, you unloyal git."

Back upstairs a few hours ago...
"So, anyway, the first element went in, and fired upon the sofa, killing our target... one watermelon. Who shot it, by the way, nice grouping."
"That was Jamie, sir. The new boy," Silias said.
"Nice work, young man."
They examined the room more.
"Who shot the TV exactly? I'll assume it was the age old 'breakfast TV, deemed it a threat to human life' line," Filby asked.
"No, sir, it made a break for a rifle this time officially, but off the record, we noticed it was made in Wutai, not a Shin-Ra product, and as such, felt it may have been booby trapped, and took steps to diffuse the theoretical device," Zacharias informed the commander.
"So you shot it?" Filby said.
"Very carefully, sir," said the demolitions soldier, Jim.

They entered the kitchen.
"Fridge, empty, and one dead dummy on the floor. Explain the former?"
"Wutaian-made beer, felt it may have been booby trapped, so drunk it," Said a trooper.
"This diffuses it how?"
"It gets it to an uncontested area sir. The sewage works," the trooper continued.
"Capital. And upstairs?"
"We... kind of blew it up. If it's any consolation, the 'hostages' were Wutaian and needed diffusing just in case," said Silias.
"Oh well, lads, all in all, a good training exercise. Just one problem: now Ultramarine Troop will be unable to use this shooting house to train in the afternoon."
"Oh well, sir, it seems they'll have to go to a primary school again then."
"Eh?"
"Riot control. We're called out weekly by the Union of PTA's in case the police get involved."
"Very well. Okay lads, back to base, good job all round."

*Cetran for 'Bend over, here it comes'.


Part Two
Lower Sector Five barracks, 9:24AMish (clock stopped so we're waiting for the teletext to get the right time.)
Soldiers walked out of their barracks, their blue uniforms starched and clean, and boarded two Personnel Carriers.
A captain spoke to a lieutenant.
"These men... every one of them loyal?"
"Yes sir," replied the officer.
"To us?"
"Of course sir. Our enemies did tell us: train them to be loyal to the man above..."
"Very good. We should be able to do this then. In, and out, with the drugs and the research."
The personnel carriers trundled off, heading for sector six.

The captain and his assistant got into a red car, an expensive-looking SX-2 four-door, and the captain immediately grabbed a radio.
"Hear this, team. This is Captain Hossceler. We've just driven off towards our payday. The plan is unchanged. Team One is still to gain entry to the pharmacy, and steal the medicinal cocaine and cannabis. Team Two, led by myself, will meanwhile breach the research wing, whilst teams three and four are to go on overwatch, and delay the police."
"Sir?"
"Yes, Lieutenant Von Kess?" Hossceler said.
"That radio isn't on."
"...Ah hell."
He repeated the speech.

The two carriers and one car drove along the roads of Midgar, towards the University of Midgar Sector Six Medical Campus. The SSMC was not just a research hospital, but also an ordinary hospital. It had a busy Accident and Emergency ward, and also a large surgery team.

It also had atrocious parking space, forcing team one and two to park their APC on a green two-door.
Its owner ran over to his ruined vehicle.
"What the hell are you doing?! My car!"
A soldier jumped out, and smashed him in the face with his short rifle.
"MY carbine."
"My teeth!" said the man.
As of yet, no one was suspicious. Soldiers arriving to arrest people at any place were not too uncommon.
Team one stormed into the pharmacy. A Nurse met them at the reception.
"Let us in. We're here to take some drugs."
"On whose authority?" she said, calmly.
"Mr Peacemakers," said the trooper.
"I'm afraid that doesn't work. And anyway, I've triggered the alarm," she said, and took a nail file out from her bag
"...Pardon?" the trooper aiming the rifle said.
"I said I triggered the alarm," the nurse said, filing her nails.
"BRIAN! Just leave her, we need to get those drugs NOW!" said another soldier.
"Don't you know I could shoot you dead?!"
"Well, yes, I suppose you could but then the police might shoot you."
"WHAT police?!"
"The ones that are based here all the time."
As if on cue, five officers of the Midgar City Police Department entered, their red overcoats open, and pistols drawn. The nurse ducked.
"POLICE! FREEZE!" screamed a police officer
"ARMY! WILL WE BOLLOCKS!" said the one know as Brian.
And then the shooting and the screaming began...

Outside, teams three and four stood in their combat formations, startled by the gunfire from inside. A police car suddenly screeched into the hospital car park, and was greeted by Squad Machine Gun fire.

Captain Hossceler swore as he heard the report of the GPMGs. Even inside, and a good hundred meters away, the machine guns were unmistakable as anything but what they were. By now, the fact there was a 'battle' between what was officially, the Midgarian Army (in reality, the Shin-Ra army) and the Midgar City Police Department (In reality, exactly that) would lead to even the slowest of civilians realising something untoward was occurring.
"Shit. Well, it looks like we'll have to be fast, lads," The crooked Captain grinned, and drew his handgun.
The team then kicked in the door to a doctor's office. Before the shocked man could respond, Hosscelers pistol was in his face.
"Where are the research papers to project jester?"
"Project what?!"
Hossceler shot him in the leg.
"AAGH!" the doctor screamed.
"Tell me."
"Do you expect some kind of sick warning to get me to comply?"
"No, I was expecting to hit your testicles but I though I was going to sneeze so my aim went off a bit."
"Well, I have no idea. Try doctor King across the corrido-"
Before he had finished, he had been shot in the face.
Doctor King did not comply, and soon also lay dead.
The next doctor however, handed over the papers.
The soldiers left.
"That was lucky. I'm still alive!"

Outside, a police officer hit the gunner of an APC with a lucky pistol shot. The gun cradle swung towards the office windows of the R & D annex, the dying trooper's hand firing the .50 machine gun .

The lucky doctor promptly screamed in terror, wetting himself, as bullets riddled the office. The terror subsided, and he realised he was unharmed.
"I'm invincible!"

Outside again, a police officer aiming a gas grenade launcher was shot, and his grenade shot off... Into the doctors office.

The doctor cringed, and then the grenade fizzled.
"I am unkillable! But I'm moving just in case..." He finally decided.

Meanwhile, in the pharmacy, Team one moved in, having just shot the last officer down. Only three of six troopers who had entered were still alive, however.
"Okay, grab the drugs, FAST!" Brian told the other two.
At that, the police anti-barricade team that was always on the hospital (mainly to get students to lectures in time) burst in, Submachine guns aimed. The startled trio turned, blazing with their rifles, and gunned one Policeman down, but the remaining officers fire took the three troopers down.

Hossceler and his team exited the R & D annex, and ran towards an APC.
"Where are team one?" Said Hossceler, to its driver.
"Don't know, sir!"
"Well, it seems the boys in red are deciding to pull back..." Hossceler deduced.
He tried to hail them via comms, but no response.
"Team three, go find out what's keeping them."
A soldier from team three ran towards that door, and the police officers inside spotted him. He dived back as the policemen shot at him.
"Oh CRAP!" said the trooper.
"There's coppers in there, sir!" he said.
"No prizes for that, soldier," Hossceler said, opening a small crate in the back of the APC.
From it, he pulled a long cylindrical object.
"After the bang, team three, go in, and get the drugs," Said the Officer, and fired the missile at the entrance.

The "lucky " doctor looked at the police, and was thankful. Then he saw the missile streaking in the door... and slamming into the reception desk. It was the last thing he saw, as the blast knocked over the locker beside him, which fell on him and broke his neck. The shrapnel of the blast neutralised the police officers, and as the smoke and dust settled, the nurse stood up, wiped dust of the desk, and resumed filing her nails.

The captain smiled as he saw the team move in, and called back team four. As the defences retreated, the police cam around the corner in large numbers, and in via the sky: the police helicopter launching CS gas from its nose launcher.
"Do we have any more of those captain?" asked lieutenant Von Kess
"Not enough, I'm afraid, Rupert," the captain said.
He still put another missile in the launcher.
"Still, we can get rid of that bloody helicopter."
He took aim. The pilot took no notice.
"OI BIRDY! STOP POOPING ON ALL THESE CARS!" And the missile flew off into the sky.
It stopped at the helicopter, where it went off.
And what landed on the cars cannot have been poopy, as it was on fire, and made of helicopter.
"I think we should go and defend the drug store, everyone. Let's move," said the captain, as the soldiers pulled their gear, some hostages, and themselves, into the building. A few more rocket shots into cars, and the police decided to instead surround the building.

It was now 10:05 AM, and at that moment, a phone rang in Upper Sector Three base.
"Crimson Troop! You got one!" screamed the telephonist.
"I really wish she wouldn't act like we enjoy this," Said Silias to Jamie.
"OOH GOODY! Bad men go boom!" said Filby.
"Go boom?! YAY!" Cried the rest of the team.
"Uh..." Jamie said.
"Look, kid, shut it. They do this every single time. Every bloody time, these crazy gits smile when stabbing people. If I didn't get paid so much, and enjoy it myself, I'd have left ages ago."

This post has been edited by Del S on 18th October 2005 20:50

--------------------

"Only the dead have seen the end of their quotes being misattributed to Plato."
-George Santayana

"The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here..."
-Abraham Lincoln, prior to the discovery of Irony.

Part Three
UoMSSMC Hospital, Pharmaceutical wing, 10:10AM
Hossceler reviewed his troops. Of the thirty he had started with (24 soldiers, 2 APC drivers, 2 gunners, the lieutenant, and his car's driver, only 22 remained), 23 if he included himself. Still, considering he had a man able to cover every one of his thirty hostages, he was in an unrivalled position that barricaded groups had not been able to get in Midgar. The bodies of team one had been removed, along with the police officers, and place out of the way. Police outside would doubtlessly be removing the dead officers, and the soldier from team three, hit by police as he ran to the door. Oh, and there was the APC gunner still in his vehicle.

The barricaded traitors had at their disposal the Shinra AAR-10 Assault rifle, and its carbine version, in the hands of most solders. As well as that, they had MDA G(A)-3 grenade launchers attached to four of those rifles, four MkIII Military shotguns, and of course, the four GPMG-2 general purpose machine guns.

All in all, enough to give any attacker a bloody nose. So long as they could somehow get away with the drugs, and the documents, and sell them to the highest bidders, this might not have been a waste.

10:25 AM
Armoured jeeps pulled into the hospital car park, carrying Crimson Troop, and their gear.
Filby approached a police commander, and three Turks. Filby did not have a high opinion of the corporations internal affairs unit, but nonetheless, in a situation like this, they had to show up.
"Colonel. Good to see you," said the police commander, Superintendent Kenber Valgaer.
"Kenber. And who is in charge for you Turks?" One man turned to the colonel.
"No one," he grunted.
"That's no one, SIR," Kenber snapped at the man.
"Sir? Superintendent, do you know what this blue suit means?" the Turk said, his face turning red with anger.
"Yes, but he's a Colonel, you insolent little shit! You're barely an honorary captain!"
"But I'm a Turk. It's not permitted for mere police officers to call us 'insolent little shits' is it?"
Silias had walked over.
"And, Reno, it's not permitted to drink on duty, but I think you have certainly been doing that..." said Silias.
"Ah, hello Henry... well, er... apologies about this little uh... mishap, sirs, let's get on with this, shall we?" The federal officer - for the Turks were officially a part of every one of the old nations federal police forces, be it the Midgarian National Investigative Police, or the Wutaian State Militia- wasn't too bothered about the risk of less sweeties here, but more worried about getting another kicking from Silias.
The three agencies collaborated.
"Alright, at around nine fifty-five, the two Lockair V5 APC's you see in the car parks arrived, along with the SX-2. Soldiers disembarked, and witnesses say that six went into the pharmacy, and around eight into the research annexe over there," The police Superintendent pointed.
" Apparently, the facility police detail attacked the pharmacy team, and nearby units were here quickly. A gun battle ensued, and during that, we think three doctors were shot by the second group, the other groups outside, shooting pretty much everything. We think a group of officers managed to take them out. The other soldiers went in to recover whatever they went after, and well, barricaded in with about thirty hostages."
"Have we made contact with them?" Silias asked. Reno replied.
"We've been phoning the reception desk for a while, but they don't pick up.
Jamie glanced at the shattered entranceway with a pair of binoculars.
"Maybe it's because the reception desk's been blown up, sir," said the young SOLDIER trooper.
One of Reno's associates, a Turk rookie called Nemel, also looked.
"He's right, sir. Entire desk is either pulpwood, or the phones are smashed."
"Damn it. Rude, try one of the offices instead," Said Reno as vans pulled up, and the MNIP Hostage Retrieval Team hopped out.
"That's four agencies here, two of which are essentially internal affairs for the corporation," said Silias, as the federal police took their Shin-Ra SMG-5 Police/Military submachine guns out of their carry cases.
"Something you haven't managed to tell anyone yet?" Zacharias stated.
"Alright, we know that the captain behind this, Hossceler, was recently in contact with two fugitives. Both are suspected to be involved in recent terrorist activities. We think he's joined one of the terrorist groups."
"So, we have a terrorist captain, with around twenty troops, heavily armed and probably well aware of what tactics we might use," Silias said.
"Exactly," said Kenber.
"So, what will be the plan?" Filby said.
"Well..." Silias said, but stopped. The Turks had walked over to the commander of the MNIP HRT, who were now fanning out around the building.
"...I think, just now, we should take cover."
"What the hell are they doing?" Zacharias asked, as a helicopter swung into view above the building, dropping ropes. The federal agents aimed Grenade launchers, read to fire gas and flash grenades into the entrance.
"Isn't it obvious, Peter? They're having a go first," Silias said, as the SWAT team moved into positions.
Silias and Filby marched towards their commander, hiding behind one of the vans.
"What the hell is going on here?" He demanded.
"It's simple, sergeant, we're taking quick and decisive action, before these rebels inspire a few more similar situations. This is a hospital."
"Exactly. And we need it as intact as possible and that means we NEGOTIATE," Filby said.
"Watch and learn, Sergeant. The Hostage Retrival team has all the benefits of the Airborne, and less of the mako infusion."
"It's also about to KILL half the hostages if we don't negotiate!" Silias said.
"Tch, fine, we'll negotiate if it means so much to you, Sergeant. All right, lads, pull back, the idiots with glowing eyes want to let them get settled in first," said the commander.
The MNIP officers pulled back.

10:35AM
Hossceler finally picked up the phone that rang beside him.
"Captain Ross Hossceler, Midgarian Army."
"Are you the leader of the rebels?" said the voice on the other end.
"By rank, yes."
"I am Rude, of the Turks."
"You told me you aren't very polite at least, that's more than I usually get from you chaps, so I think you might not be entirely accurate there."
"No, that's my name, captain."
"Oh, I see. Anyway, I suppose you're the negotiator?"
"Yes, I am. What are your demands?" said Rude.
"I suppose ten billion gil, a helicopter, safe passage to Nibelheim, and my selection of cute girls from the slums is out of the question?"
"Most certainly. You don't get cute girls in the slums," Rude said, keeping calm despite the blatant fact that a 22/34 in the handbook was occurring: cocky shit on other end is taking the piss.
"Oh well, I suppose I'll settle for safe passage to Nibel, for me and my men. But for now, remove the snipers," Hossceler said.
"We'll remove the snipers, but why Nibelheim, may I ask?"
"Always liked the little village at the bottom of Mount Nibel... Old Nibelheim. Not the big city*, the little village that got its name nicked by its big neighbour fifty miles southeast. Heard from a chap it had been burnt down..."
"It hasn't," Rude said.
"Fair enough. Guess that's about all we have to say, but if there's anything else, don't hesitate to call."
The captain hung up.

Rude turned to the command team.
"He knows his stuff. He pulled a 22/34 on me and now he wants to go to Nibelhiem. He's also asked for the snipers to be removed: I allowed that because it's unlikely they'll ever get a place with a decent line of sight that doesn't put them into our field of fire."
"The city, little town, or the former nation as a whole?"
"He says the little town, but half that shithole is so lawless he and his troops could hide out anywhere."
"Very well, and the rest, Rude?" Filby said.
"What do you mean?" Rude exclaimed.
"The little story about Old Nibelhiem. About a trio of SOLDIERs, promising young ones I was trying to get into the AS, and of course, Sephiroth. He always like the AS, did Sephiroth. Anyway, something went wrong... apparently a few townspeople were killed, town burnt down, the three SOLDIER's all dead or missing. Hear two of them became mercenaries in the slums. Had Aquamarine troop do a little digging, but all we got was one scared girl telling us she used to date one. Oh, and a person in sector seven fairly interested in one of them too," Zacharias said.
"Oh, right, that... forgot you lot were cleared in on it because of the uh... substantial threat of..." Reno stuttered.
"Pissed off survivors joining terrorist groups.**" Interjected the MNIP commander
"Yes, that."
Suddenly, the phone by Rude rang. Nemel picked it up.
"Hello, this is Hossceler."
"Yes, Nemel of the Turks speaking."
"Oh, good, it's not that Rude fellow. I liked him."
"What's that meant to mean?"
"I mean, we can see you quite clearly from where we are..."

In the pharmacy building, looking out of a window, Hossceler sat with a dead policeman's submachine gun, and a cellular phone.
"... And might I say you did so very well keeping your commanders in such plain line of sight. "
The captain pulled the trigger, and walked a burst of fire at Nemel. The rookie agent fell, bullets tearing through the body armour he had put on. Even if the armour had worked, the bullet between the eyes would certainly have still went in.
Hossceler ducked back, as volleys of fire smashed into the room.

Silias ran forward, grabbed the Turk, and dragged his body into cover.
"He's dead, I'm afraid," the SOLDIER sergeant said to the other two Turks.
"Damn it!"
"I also grabbed the phone. Let's see if our chum in there is still on the line, shall we?" Silias said.
"Captain Hossceler, are you there?" Henry said into the phone.
"Why yes, who is this?" Hossceler said.
"Sergeant Henry Silias, SOLDIER. Airborne Service."
"Oh dear. I was hoping you chaps were busy too..."
"We are now thanks to you," Silias replied.
"Is a mere sergeant severing the negotiations?" All the while during this conversation, the two Turks had been calling their superiors.
"No, a mere sergeant is not severing the negotiations."
Rude motioned for Silias to ensure the man on the other end did not hear.
"The President himself just ordered our leader to tell you to go in, Silias. Get a plan together."
"I heard that!" Hossceler said.
"Heard what?"
"You said that I was bent like a shelf pre-ordered weeder to bell and go in, silly arse. Whatever that means..."
"Apologies, captain, do you want a trained negotiator instead?" Silias said, handing the phone to Rude.

Silias and Zacharias walked back over to Crimson Troop's jeeps.
"We're going in, lads."

* Which Cloud and co. drive straight past. Look left when you're there (blink and you'll miss it)
** Too late!



This post has been edited by Del S on 18th October 2005 20:51

--------------------

"Only the dead have seen the end of their quotes being misattributed to Plato."
-George Santayana

"The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here..."
-Abraham Lincoln, prior to the discovery of Irony.

This is actually the end of the first story. So once I fix the typos and such I have no doubt missed, it's kind of ready. The other five aren't mind.
Part Four
12:00pm
The teams were geared up, and ready to move out. And had been since nearly 11.
What had caused the delay was Tseng arriving with the official orders.
But at lunchtime, he finally did.

He read them out.
"By order of President Shinra, this siege situation is to be resolved by 1400 hours. Use of any and all needed force is authorised," Tseng said. The crowd paused.
"Well, that's it. The President's a busy man, and there IS a game of football on," Tseng said.
The crowd murmured.
"Is the time of 2 PM that has been set in relation to this game?" a voice in the crowd asked.
"Yes. He wants it over by 3 so they can still do the live coverage," Tseng said
"Then why does our president not wait until six, and tell the TV crews not to cover this during the game?"
"We'd be better off, on this overcast and cloudy day, for a Rainbow. Six?!"
"So we can watch the game you see," said the voice again.
A small fly buzzed about.
"Someone swat this thing," Tseng said.
There was silence.
"Well, tell you what, go now, and you'll be able to watch the football."
"Hooray!"

The plan was simple. Crimson Troop element one was to enter via the roof, and reach the second floor. Element two was to enter the basement, and get into position to come up. Once the two teams were there, the MNIP team was to storm the front. This would mean the enemy would hopefully find themselves surrounded by counter-terrorist soldiers and policemen.

Hossceler also had a simple plan. It involved covering the entrances via the roof and basement with machineguns. This meant only two guns were aimed at the entrance, but there were rifles there also.
He knew they would storm soon, so opened his radio network, most probably being listened to, to address his men for the coming battle.
"Soldiers, this is your captain speaking. We must be prepared from the police and Airborne Service to soon storm this building. I will not lie: more of you will certainly be killed. We may all be killed. But if we can stand firm, and repel the attack, and any others after it, we may just spark others. Others who oppose the corporation. Others against how we leech this planet's life dry, how the poor stay poor and the rich get richer, how once proud armies of defence have been degenerated into to mere thugs used to keep power. Opposed to super-soldiers infused with Mako. And inspire people to fight for the oppressed! The man enslaved by the corporation! The child denied a school because the fee is too high! The woman living in fear of criminals, or the police! And those who are not asked if they would like fries with that!"
"Sir?" said Von Kess.
"It was on, I checked , Rupert!"
"Not that sir... it's just that last bit. Why did you add that?"
"Because last time I went drive-thru I realised I had forgot to get fries and the wife was furious. That's why she left me."
"Really, sir?"
"No, it was because of her sister... and her cousin... and her mother... what can I say?"
"You didn't, did you sir?!" the lieutenant said with a sly grin
"Yes, killed them all in a car crash... Well, I say car crash but... They were on the wrong side of the road during a strange ion storm making everything wavy! Freak occurrence that they should have been the only car of the many hundreds going the wrong way I hit in the Paladin. Well, the only one I stopped on. And reversed onto. And opened fire on."
"PALADIN?! Sir, you got drunk and drove a Paladin Four light tank the wrong way up a motorway?!" Von Kess said, shocked.
"Of course not! I was accompanied... Oh , by the way, why do they call them 'light' tanks? They each weight forty-five tons without fuel or ammo!"
"Sir! How much damage did you cause?"
"Scratched the paint on the tank and..." the captain said.
"Oh good sir... For a second I was worried you destroyed a tank..."

Sadly, he had made this speech just after shooting the rookie Turk, meaning he was to be disappointed at the fact it would take until ten past twelve for them to act...

12:10PM
Element one was good to go in, and element two was making its way to the basement. MNIP officers had moved into position outside.
Element one's demolitions man, Liam Kanokan, placed the charge on the roof door. Meanwhile, E2's woman for that job, Marlene Smith, planted her charge on the door that blocked entry straight to the main hall. E1's blast was to be set off ninety seconds before E2's, giving E1 the time to clear the second floor of the two-floor building. Upon the second blast, the police were to move.

Kanokan detonated the charge, and the metal door flew into the stairwell, landing in front of the machine gunner. The startled solider aimed the gun at the door (or rather, hole) at the top of the small staircase leading up to the roof.
The flash grenades that were thrown in hit him in the face.

Hossceler heard the bangs, first the loud one, then the two smaller detonations of flashbangs. He made his way upstairs...

Silias was first in the door, aiming his SMG P/M5 at the severely stunned soldier below. He fired three rounds into the man's chest, the blue uniform turning dark purple as the 5x35mm(1) rounds tore through his body armour, which wasn't really even designed to tackle a conventional pistol round, let alone an armour-piercing round developed for a specific gun.
"Object down!" said Silias into his radio, announcing the kill of a target.
"Second floor stairwell entrance!" he said, aiming at the door as the team stacked up behind him.
The team carried on through the doorway, kicking it in, and lobbing another flashbang. They then stormed in, and encountered three enemy soldiers, disorientated by the grenade. The SMGs clattered as they fired, their silencers making the gunfire virtually inaudible, and instead, the actual firing mechanism was instead the loudest noise made by the fire, giving a sharp clatter of metal on metal as bullets were fired, ejected, and a new bullet was drawn into the chamber.
"Three Objects down, storage room, second floor!" said trooper three, Max Rawn. He moved to the door leading to the main corridor, and opened it.
The team moved out cautiously. To reach here had taken fifty of their ninety seconds. The corridor they exited into had only the door leading to the stairwell down nearby: one man could cover the rest of the corridor as the other four went down. Andrew Covew took this rearguard role, as Corporal Rawn went into the stairway down.

Hossceler ran in the door of the stairway, carrying two of the police SMG's. The four soldiers behind him held their rifles.
He saw the door above opening, and pointed the weapons at the shape that came through...

"Contact!" Rawn yelled, but even as he did so, drawing his own gun up, the two submachine guns below roared into life. The burst of fire saw him hit five times, four of them stopped by his armour. The fifth went straight into his chin. The trooper's head kicked back, and his entire body followed, the gun he aimed firing into the ceiling above.
Silias swung his gun around, and fired his own shots. Hossceler dived back, and the soldiers ran forward.
The sergeant ducked back around the corner, and pulled a green grenade.
"FRAGMENTATION GRENADE!" He screamed, lobbing the explosive down the stairs. The bang had barely even stopped echoing when the element came around the stairwell, and three SMG's shot down the last two soldiers below not killed or wounded by the grenade. Hossceler meanwhile crawled from the door, shrapnel in his leg. His command looked at the door, aiming their guns.
Hossceler saw the machine-gunner aiming at the basement door had turned his gun around... and the he realised: hadn't there been a much louder bang downstai-
The basement door blew apart, and more black-clad SOLDIERs burst into the reception hall. At the same moment, gunfire erupted from outside, and the soldiers in the reception hall were under assault from three directions...
Hossceler stood up quickly, ignoring the blinding pain of the shrapnel, and ran towards the labs where the hostages were held. In the confusion or by skilful bullet dodging, he somehow made the door, chased by a hail of bullets thudding into the door as it swung shut behind him.

"Man down, stairwell to first floor," Silias said, as the gunfire erupted below. The element burst out, aiming at a force already spent and destroyed by the sudden ferocity of the assault. Even so, the last machine gunner had fired a long burst into approaching police, and three of the officers had gone down. Jamie and 'Tiny' from element two ganged up on the man, both troopers firing rounds into him.
"All assault units regrouped. Moving into rear of building," Silias announced to command outside. The MNIP captain whose task was to go upstairs and clean up also announced his team's movement.
The five AS troopers stacked up by the door, as the sergeants went back to fetch something...

Hossceler knew it was bad. Only six soldiers left alive he could confirm, Von Kess amongst the dead, but three men had their grenade launchers. Two aimed at the hostages, and the third at the door.
Hossceler shouted out.
"Airborne Service! We have the hostages covered entirely. You can't come in without killing at least one of them! Do you want to take the risk?"
"Actually, captain Hossceler, We were ordered not to," Zacharias shouted.
"Good... can we negotiate then?"
Silias waved the team back behind him as he aimed at the door.
"Yes."
"Sirs...Are you sure about doing this?" Jamie asked his Sergeants.
"Don't worry! There is no sugar!"
He and Zacharias fired the GPMGs.

Hossceler could barely believe it. Bullets were streaming in the doors, and they were cutting down his men. Eventually, the shooting stopped, and the Airborne Service stormed in.
Hosscelers last sight was that of an SMGs business end climbing up level with his face, and he could just make out the flash of gunfire before-

12:50PM
Ambulancemen and Medics were attending to the hostages. Not one had been killed during the storming of the building, but more than a few were fairly shell-shocked, and a few had minor wounds.

Silias watched the team load their gear back into their jeeps, whilst their fallen comrades body was loaded into an ambulance.
Filby walked over.
"Successful mission, Henry. Rawn would have felt it was that."
"I know, sir, but..."
"But what?" Filby said. His main fear was that one of his emotionless killing machines (his favourite toys other than Moira, his .45 pistol*) might need the oil of a sharp smack. And as high ranking as he was he didn't want to do that as those emotionless killing machines would still rip his head off and crap down his throat.
"He had a tenner on Midgar Rovers to beat Junon United..."
"Really?"
"Yes. Stupid git. They're playing Junon Athletic..."
Filby breathed a sigh of relief on the inside, and the Troop returned to base...

Meanwhile, a policeman in the lobby of the pharmacy pondered why a fallen locker was swearing at him to move the locker, carefully since it's neck was broken...

*He loves that gun, he really does.

1- Real world note: This bullet is based on the MP7's 4.6x30mm round





This post has been edited by Del S on 18th October 2005 20:51

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"Only the dead have seen the end of their quotes being misattributed to Plato."
-George Santayana

"The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here..."
-Abraham Lincoln, prior to the discovery of Irony.

Second story.

Ultima Farce
Story Two: Junior Executive Mail Orders
Part One

Costa Del Sol
Highway 12, CDS-Mercanir route
Life as a Shin-Ra junior executive could be easy. It could also be hard.
For Alan Slaterman, it was hard. Only 24, he had been posted to the Costa Del Sol not for the sea and the sun. He was here for the inland issues. Local Army units were classed as compromised, Federal police ineffective, and local government corrupted. The main source of problems was the countries Mafia. They made millions off of mass-produced materia, drugs, illegal firearms, and other unwholesome activities. This offended the corporation to the extent that they had decided to send a large task force here to clean it up. The true worker bees were Turk agents, working behind the scenes, and infiltrating the enemy. For a year, Slaterman had been official head of the force against the Mafia, which had come to fear the doors being kicked in, and members of the Shinra Internal Investigations Unit made up of rejected 3rd-class soldiers who nonetheless had qualities useable outside the main army or the police, storming in and arresting their families and them.
So they had elected to strike back, and Slaterman was a wanted man. The trouble was, a more important VIP was temporarily in the country. The President’s son, Rufus, had decided to come on holiday from his Nibelheim university to the seaside. It had forced a major security headache which Slaterman, as the corporation’s gold man in the region, was forced to put himself into as an extra complication as he tried to get to the capital in time to oversee and inspect the security, as well as Rufus’ lodgings, before the President’s son had completed a tour of company-owned facilities in mountain towns and cities. Slaterman had such a great deal on his plate, that he barely ever looked at the road outside his limo. Looking at the documents of his normal job, the security briefings, trying to write to his wife back in Midgar…

Of course, the passengers of the vehicles nearing the motorcade consisting of the limo, and two company cars each with two bodyguards in them, had far less to contend with. If six pistol and submachine gun armed guards were truly that much less than attempting to juggle regular job, special assignment, and family life.

Still, there was the fact all three could be solved by the WCR-82 Assault Rifles the other cars contained, as could the passengers six problems.
The first vehicle started to solve problems, cutting ahead, and allowing the two men riding shotgun in the pickup trucks back to aim the Wutaian made rifles at the Midgarian made bullet proof window which incidentally was technically one of the many things they had been made to tackle. The bullets ripped into the two bodyguards and the car swerved left, slamming into the divider fence between the two sides of the highway.

The limo driver slammed on the brakes of his car reflexively, but mistakenly. The driver of the chase car missed his chance to brake also, and slammed into the back.

The driver was saved from serious injury by the airbag, but the passenger of the company chase car slammed his head hard off the dashboard. Seconds later, four vehicles had stopped around the halted convoy, and the front of the limo was fired upon.

Men exited the civilian cars, aiming rifles and shotguns. The bodyguard left alive in the limo drew his SMG Defensive Weapon, but Slaterman spoke.
“No, Dynal, it’s me they want. We just surrender and maybe one of us lives.”
“No sir, I’m afraid not. You never did learn not to get attached to the hired help. Sorry for failing.” said the bodyguard, and opened his door. He fired a burst of bullets that knocked three of the Mafia men down, but only two were dead, and there were still many alive.

The chase cars driver, ignored erroneously by the enemy, grabbed his own SMG and that of his partners. The soldier simply blazed away with both weapons, hitting some of the Mafia thugs, and forcing the rest into cover. In conjunction with the man in the limo, they might just…
The Mafia men formed a small firing squad behind the cover of a car, and the rifles they held swamped the chase car with bullets. The brief hope of a chance of victory faded with the life of the bodyguard.

Dynal’s SMG still fired however, and it was clear they wanted his principal alive. Otherwise they would have done that trick to him by now.
The ammunition was soon to run out though, and when the dry click of the firing pin on an empty chamber came -like just there actually- he would be… Oh bugger.
The Mafia men ran forward, and shot Dynal many times. They simply waved their rifles at Slaterman, in a fairly universal gesture that meant they did not have to bother knowing Midgarian and therefore could avoid conversation which they suspected could be a bit tricky against a man who had just witnessed the murder of six colleagues and possibly friends. Sadly for them, Slaterman knew Solian.
“You know the company will simply send more men?”
“To rescue you?” Said a Mafia soldier who felt like responding.
“No. To crush you.” Slaterman said.
“With what?” Scoffed the thug.
“All the military might of the Shin-Ra.” Slaterman responded, far more calmly than he felt.
“Park a tank on me, will they? Heh! Let your bosses try, scum, but they’ll have a hard time squashing Paul Jeffergols!”
“Who?”
“Er, that’s me. Mafia death squad lieutenant.”
“Oh, right…”
“Wait, why am I talking to you?!” The Solian realised, and smacked Slaterman.

Midgar, Upper Sector Three
0600AM on a non-training day.
The guards at the gate were barely awake at this hour. Ordinarily, the base was a hive of activity 24 hours a day, but not on a non-training day. Everyone was lazy on such days.

No terrorist group had ever decided to use this fact to attack, because they mostly realised how angry people get when they get woken up early and since the AS were already dangerous, no terror organisation even thought about it outside of nightmares.

As such, the limousine that drew up to the gate caused a considerable panic. The gate guard jumped, picked up his rifle quickly, and ran to the phone in the small gatehouse.
“Code two-hundred! Approaching company executive!”
He waited.
His colleague walked over.
“Pick it up and try again.”
“What?”
“You never actually picked the phone up.”
“Oh, silly me.”
He did so.

Filby’s phone rang. He merely grunted in anger, and pulled Moria, his .45 pistol, out from under the covers (lying on the other side of the double bed) and shot the alarm clock three times.
“It was the phone this time, sir!” Shouted a trooper through the wall.
“Was it? Damn. Answer it then.” Filby shouted back.
“It’s your phone, sir.” the trooper hollered
“Crap it. Oh well, I’ll get it meself. Oh, by the way, buy me a new alarm clock.”
“WILL YOU SHUT UP!” shouted another trooper.
“Pardon me, trooper?” said the first trooper and Filby simultaneously.
“Oh, sorry. Will you shut up, sirs?” the second said
“Better!” Filby muttered, picking up the cat.
Dawn broke upon Filby when the phone clawed his face. He put Fluffles down and briefly wondered why it was only ever him that the base pet picked up instead of the phone. He actually picked the phone up on the next go.
“Yes?”
“Oh, morning sir. Gate Guard. An executive was approaching.”
“Was?!” Filby asked.
“Yes sir, She decided to just go straight in.”
“She?!” The colonel said.
“Yes sir, it’s Scarlet.”
Filby’s face drained of blood, which was actually lucky as it stopped the bleeding.
“Oh dear… Scarlet is heading for the barracks right now?”
“Yes sir.”
“Did she seem annoyed about any gross expenditure of ammunition, stolen cars, burning cars, or covert operations replacing all the soap in the dispensers of the Shin-Ra Headquarters with contraceptive jelly?”
“Um, no sir, I asked about that last one, and she said that the pranksters didn’t get to the women’s toilets in the boardroom.”
“Oh phew, that’s where Silias and you had to say you were supposed to be going for a meeting, wasn’t it?”
“Yes sir. “
“So, what exactly is she here for…” Filby mused, and put the phone down.
He promptly walked out of the room.

Fluffles then wondered why Filby was the only idiot who kept putting telephone receivers on him in the whole base, and shook it off.

This post has been edited by Del S on 6th March 2005 13:00

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"Only the dead have seen the end of their quotes being misattributed to Plato."
-George Santayana

"The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here..."
-Abraham Lincoln, prior to the discovery of Irony.

Part Two
Same base as it was in the last part
Filby though briefly for a few minutes.
Squeak! Squeak Squ-
Crap! Still set to HAMSTER. Or was it Gerbil?
Checklist: Shirt, check, medals, check, pants, check.
Trousers…
Trousers?
Trousers, report to legs, repeat…
Ohshit.

He stormed into the troopy barracky beddy place of some sort with soldiers in it. He whacked his head on a trooper sleeping upside down from the light fittings.
“CORPORAL BATTERTON! Sleep on a bed or the floor like normal people!”
Filby found that, when you feel your officer…ering ability was faltering, a good shouty-session at the soldiers with every mistake ‘a reminder to remind you lot!’ , but of what was never certain nor remembered. Since it was SUPPOSED to be recalled, not one of the troops did recall it.
“Sqwhaud!”
“Platoon, sir!”
“SHUT IT JAMIE!”
“…Platoo… how the hell are you meant to slip an un-needed ‘h’, oh well, flug it, Platoon, wake up!”
“On that one sir.”
“Oh, good, right, must be off the… hang on, no, I want you lot prepared, incoming VIP.”
The platoon simply grunted. Then a cockerel crowed, proverbially and litterally(1). And then they panicked.
“EEEKARGHVIP!”
Soon, the whole platoon but one was ready.
“Corporal! Yes, you, Marlene! You’ve forgotten your trousers!”
“Sir, it may have escaped your noticed but I am apparently a girl sir!”
“Nonsense ma… crap, you’re right. You’re meant to wear a skirt on the dress uniform. You aren’t though, Zacharias!”
“Yes I am, sir, it’s the weekend.”
“Ah right, pantsonheddian(2) aren’t you… “
“What is a pantsonheddian, Colonel?”
“Ah, good morning, ma’am” Said Filby. He turned, and saw Scarlet herself, and three Turks.
Filby explained what a pantsonheddian was, which was not much more than a Cosmo canyon religion involving wearing a pair of underpants on your head.
“I’ll be brief about the purpose of this visit, colonel. A Junior Executive doing vital work to the company in Costa Del Sol has been kidnapped by one of the Mafia groups. Ordinarily, this matter would have been decided by the Turks but as his job means he has confidential information that the company not only cannot afford to loose to opponents, but cannot afford to launch countermeasures against”
“May I ask why, ma’am?” Filby said.
“It’s simple: There is a priority in CDS right now, and until that priority is safe, we can’t worry about anything else. To that end, we need capable troops able to get this priority clear quietly, and also be able to recover our captured man, and since we’d like to spread the enemy across their own country a little first…”
“Err, Ma’am, it’s our country, we bought it in 1920.” pointed out a Turk.
“Well, they think it’s theirs. Anyway, your unit’s high-profile wiping out of a terrorist threat has rather thrust you into the public eye worldwide(3)…”
“Yes, ma’am?”
“Well, basically, Filby, we want Crimson Troop to go in there and do this job. “
“What’s their baggage?” Fibly enquired.
“Her. As part of the mission, you will have a member of the Turks assigned to you. Her name is Caroline Chavez.” Scarlet said. ” Scarlet said, pointing at the female Turk. She had brown hair, green eyes, and wore the usual blue uniform. Filby made a mental note to keep the troop drunk. Especially Jamie, the 21 year old young gun of the team who hadn’t really went on leave since he had went for a drink with some of his mates from the Nibelheim/Gongaga SOLDIER recruitment area, that Zack Wossname chap and that Strife lad. Three promising lads, he had recalled. Shame two were dead but them’s the breaks.
“Cloud Strife’s dead too, sir?” Jamie asked.
“Er, was I thinking out loud?”
“Well, yes, sir.” Silias said. Silias had been from Cloud’s town, but Jamie was from nearby Nibelheim city.
“You’re a Nibelheimer, Corporal Strangelove?” said the Female Turk.
“Corporal Strangelove is the Aquamarine troop man measuring the curtains over there, actually, ma’am. I’m Corporal Hargen.’
Crimson Troop had ten troopers, It’s sergeants, Silias (Nibelheimian) and Zacharias (Cosman), then Corporal’s Jamie Hargen (Nibelheimian), Jim Selena (Junonian), Andrew Covew (Midgarian), Liam Kanokan (Midgarian), ‘Tiny’ Timothy Timkin (Gongagan), Marlene Smith (Iciclean), Cloud Halbrecht(Mideelian), and Will Mockerboy (Condorian), transferred up from Emerald Troop in Junon since Max Rawn’s death. All were trained for missions such as the one they were about to be placed on, Filby knew, but he was worried about the fact the female Turk knew names. Definitely not a shooter..


After that, it was tme for the breifing. Filby was amazed no one had noticed he had no trousers on yet.

A few hours later
The troop were preparing for the mission now, loading equipment into vans. For this mission, it was rifles, pistols, and special weapons. That essentially meant Marlene and Liam were handed GPMG’s, whilst Andrew and Cloud slipped underslung grenade launchers onto their rifles. Other troopers put shotguns or some other weapon onto backpacks as a third weapon. The backpack that had been left by the Turks for their member was lacking in firearms however.
Silias spotted this, and walked to find the three Turks, still on the base despite Scarlet’s departure half an hour before.
“Tseng. Does your lass there have any guns?”
“Standard sidearm, Henry.” the Turk leader replied.
“Her idea? Do us a favour mate, give her a bigger gun as well.”
“Sir, I’ve trained extensively with the-” Caroline tried to say, but was cut off.
“Miss, in a proper fire fight, a pistol is as much use as a chocolate helmet. Just go grab a submachine gun and some ammo, stick it on your pack, and then you’ve at least got something you can aim at daytime at things over five meters away.”
Silias felt rather pleased at that.
Caroline didn’t know much about submachine guns though, so she decided she’d ask one of the troopers for help.
Filby heard the exchange, figured out the Turks intention, and realised there was only one way she would walk to try and find assistance with the gun. Well, bugger that! He’d simply let the sergeants handle it. Sulphur troop were off to do a helicopter training mission, maybe he could play with the miniguns…
Filby walked off.


(1) It was ‘shot for breaching security’ on file, but in reality it killed 12 men with stealth camoflage (mainly over deep holes) and its exoskeleton (Mainly by bouncing) before realising that A) wrong game wrong shape and species for a Cyborg ninja.
(2) A Bizarre religious sect introduced by war veterans from Cosmo, who, after fighting the Gi tribe discovered why there was a Midgarian Health Organisation warning saying ‘do not inhale’ on bottles of soft. After a brief while thinking they were a hummingbird, the vets founded the pants on head sect to escape being stoned to death for being mad in what would have been an ironic punishment considering why they had went mad, any way you looked at it…
(3) And the vast majority of the public that had that eye didn’t exist in the game. Isn’t that amazing?

This post has been edited by Del S on 7th April 2005 22:48

--------------------

"Only the dead have seen the end of their quotes being misattributed to Plato."
-George Santayana

"The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here..."
-Abraham Lincoln, prior to the discovery of Irony.