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Tremble in fear of what the RP deprivation has done to my mental state: The machine had worked, for the flier now wobbled above the American desert, soaring across the skies and keeping an eye on the "Untermenschen" territories below. According to the machine, the year was 1947, and the date was June the 14th. Indeed, "Aryan science" had finally done it, and the "inferior Amerimutt Untermenschen" would pay for their participation in the destruction of the "glorious Ordensstat". The "Jewish pigs" which had helped the Speer regime to destroy the "glorious SS" would be crushed under the might of "Ubermensch intellect". The flier was en route to the centre of the" Jewish banker empire", Washington DC, but in order to avoid detection, the flier kept high and slow above the deserts of New Mexico while on the way to destroy their target. Contained within the flier was the last of Reichsführer-SS Himmler's brightest weapons, that which would've given a new birth to the world, an Aryan world, in another time. The men sent on the mission were the last, most loyal, SS members left alive. However, the machine was unstable, not only had it sent them through time and space, but through the very fabric of reality itself, and into another timeline. The Letzter Krieg, as it was called, would be ended, though not in the way the last of the SS would desire. The Ordensstat's waning days were spent developing the flier and the machine, revenge weapons reverse engineered from the Reich's greatest discovery, a partially functioning alien spacecraft, found by Himmler's Ahnenerbe in the 1950s. This discovery greatly excited Himmler at the time, and the SS officers who were the most disciplined and loyal to him could not help but be somewhat unnerved at the Reichsführer-SS, who spouted out prophecy upon prophecy of the final days of Judaism, and the true meaning of the discovery. They named the machine the Reichsflugscheibe. Even the most unquestioning follower of Nazi racial doctrine and folklore would find themselves questioning their beliefs upon listening to Himmler's insane ramblings, and by the end of the Ordensstat, many of these men had fled to Germania and pleaded innocent to Speer and his cabinet. These traitors were hated by Himmler, and in his last moments before he gassed himself and his entire family, he cursed Hitler for allowing such a Judeo-Bolshevik to rise up the ranks of the Nazi government. Himmler's Reichsflugscheibe was to be his final revenge on the Jewish world. As the flier flew nearer and nearer to Roswell, they could not keep themselves hidden forever. A stupid mistake made by one of the SS pilots, a younger man who was more emotionally driven than the others, would doom the entire mission. As the young SS man began diverting more power to the craft's engines, the cloaking system would fail, providing a brief window for American detection before the man was shot dead by the other SS onboard, and power brought back to the cloak. Nevertheless, it was too late, and American fighters quickly scrambled from the Walker Army Air Field upon the detection of this craft by USAAF RADAR installations. The short blip indicated a large aircraft entering US airspace, something bizarre, considering the Soviets didn't really have the capacity to do this, nor the reasoning to. Regardless, it was something worth investigating, and Roswell would soon be the sight of a disastrous air battle that the US had not seen coming, and would certainly hope no-one would ever know of. American P-51 Mustang fighters were desperately outmatched by the hulking 'saucer' they would soon come up against. The stealth capability of the Reichsflugscheibe was only designed to shield the craft from RADAR detection, not make it invisible, but regardless, it was still an incredibly dangerous craft now that it was cornered. The flier had access to laser and plasma weaponry, but many German MG-42 guns were also mounted in automated tracking mounts, that laid heavy fire into the incoming Mustangs. The battle was short and bloody, and soon enough, over 70 Mustangs had been destroyed. Their airframes had been turned to dust by the high powered weaponry of the flier, preventing them from falling to the ground below. But the flier had not gone without damage, for the highly advanced alloy used in its armour had been worn down by continuous machinegun fire and rocket bombardment from the wing mounted HVAR rockets, and soon enough, the flier itself had received a critical hit in the propulsion engine from a stray rocket that had managed to damage the interior of the SS UFO. While the HVAR rockets were definitely not intended for Air-to-Air use, the inability of the UFO to move quickly without sacrificing weapon power or stealth was the main weakness of the UFO, which remained hovering near Roswell during the battle. The nuclear weapon inside the flier was primed for use by the SS personnel as it went down, but the hastily thrown together 'revenge bomb' was just a dud, and the flier crashed down into a ranch below. The US government was quick to cover up the details, saying that it was just a weather balloon that had crashed down in Roswell, and nothing major. However, conspiracies continue on into the current day about the true incident at Roswell, and what had actually happened to those pilots who were reported 'missing' and erased from the records of time. There are those who claim aliens visited the Earth and are in custody of the US, and other that claim it was a secret military test gone wrong. Yet none know the truth of Himmler's final gift, the multiverse, and the SS members that are imprisoned in Groom Lake to this very day. |
Roswell was Burgundy the whole time. |
Hello how are you |
I will drown your DMs in lewds shall you try telling me to RP one more time. United democratic peoples republics, Roulix, and United front of texas |
Operation Manifest Destiny Part 1 It had been just three weeks since Miller was shipped back home. Three weeks to visit his parents, cash in his service check, and relax before he got the dreaded phone call. He had been just about to eat breakfast as usual when he revived a phone call from his CO, he was ordered to sign in at the deployment building in town within the next 24 hours. It would be an understatement to say he dragged his feet, he was still feeling the effects of his deployment to Mexico and praying they just wanted him for something dumb like a report or well being check up. Oh was he wrong. The next morning he rode his beat up motorcycle, a classic 2019 Harley Davidson his farther had passed down to him to the nearby town of Greenville and walked into the local UFT Army and Citizens Militia office. “Hey Will, what’s all this urgency to have me drive up here? You know I just got back from deployment!” Miller joked as he walked through the doors and saw his CO Will Smith sitting at his desk. Sargent Smith yawned and sipped on his coffee before replying, “Wasn’t just you Miller, everyone in the CM is being called in these last couple of days. It’s just like with the push south and east, but this time they’ve even started gearing up the Air Force.” Half an hour later he and about twenty other Citizens Militia personnel he recognized were in a meeting room looking at Major Johnson, how the fates put him under the majors command again was a mystery Miller would never understand. The Major was going on about how there was to be another operation with a use for the CM in a weeks time and that the militia was expected to be deployed. About ten minutes into the meeting a younger guy Miller couldn’t recognize raised his hand and spoke after the major pointed to him, “Sir, if you don’t mind me saying this... isn’t this kind of stuff meant for the actual army and other military branches? We are just reservist who are supposed to be deployed rarely if ever at all. I’m more than willing to do my job but this sounds like a serious operation?” Miller awkwardly nodded as everyone looked at him before the Major continued, “Therefor, the big wigs in Austin have deployed the CM along with the UFT Army once again. Right now the numbers show only 25% of the militia will be deployed so you few deployed will be stretched thinner than in Mexico and out East, sorry to say it will make your jobs harder but that’s the orders.” Hands shot up as the major mentioned front line roles and he kept talking, “Yes I know most of you haven’t seen combat and I know those of you who have still haven’t been on the front lines, but trust me we don’t expect you to go busting down doors with the regular grunts. You’ll just be taking more direct roles in this operation as the top brass wants to see just how capable the Militia truly is as support branch of the regular military.” Miller tried to talk to the Major after the meeting but he had quickly walked out of the meeting room and drove off in his truck before Miller could even ask anything, what was going on? Whatever was going on, Miller was told he had until tomorrow morning for deployment and he planned on spending the night in style, getting drunk and sleeping like a baby in his own bed. |
Operation Manifest Destiny Part 2 Miller and about fifteen other Citizen Militia enlisted men had been put into the back of a transport truck way past its golden days about eight hours ago. They still had about a day’s drive ahead of them but it wasn’t so bad, he had never been further west than Austin so seeing the endless plains and the bright blue skies made him happy to a point. Plus they were just one truck in an endless convoy of trucks, he was sure some poor guys back was killing him somewhere out there. Every once in a while a helicopter or two would fly over head, mostly transports but sometimes he’d catch a glimpse of an attack chopper flying over head with its nose mounted gun and missiles attached to its sides. Once there was even an old jet that flew a little too low overhead and just about made them all go deaf, one of the guys in the truck had said it was a Tomcat- whatever that meant. The convoy would stop every couple of hours and allow its men and women to use the restroom or quickly eat something, but for the most part they just kept driving deeper and deeper into the deserts of West Texas. When they had finally stopped to rest for the night Miller and seemingly everyone in the convoy happily jumped out of their vehicles to set up little camps or tents around the highway they were traveling on. Miller opted to set up his bedroll next to their truck but a few of the guys riding with him chose to go join around a large bonfire that had been erected further down the line of trucks. They could party all night if they wanted to, he knew how long the drive would be tomorrow and didn’t like the idea of being hung over. At day break the next morning Miller was awoken by the sounds of god only knew how many trucks horns and suddenly the long line of trucks came alive with the men and women packing up last nights encampments. To his amusement Miller had been smart to sleep by the truck, everyone around the now burnt down bonfire had shuffled off to their trucks holding their heads and finding sun glasses wherever they could find them. Whatever was going on, it was big. |
Operation Manifest Destiny Part 3 Dear my loving wife, we arrived at El Paso shortly before day’s end. The trip west was boring and long but thankfully the western defense forces have done their duties well in protecting the western deserts. Not long ago I was informed that all forces being deployed here to El Paso are on schedule, good news too since the push East was slowed. All is going well and yes before you ask, I have been taking my medication for my back. While I miss my own bed that we share, I miss you far more my love. Tell the kids Paw says he loves them and please be safe until my return. Yours truly, Major Tim Johnson. P.S, if you bake any of that cake I like please have some sent to El Paso. |
Operation Manifest Destiny Part 4 Miller and his squad were told to head over to a large field filled with tents and he was happy for it, being stuck in that truck had taught him to love solid ground and hard cots. While he was unpacking, his buddy Colt walked into their tent dragging a big wooden box behind him and laughed while exclaimed, “Guys you ain’t going to believe this! The supply Officer just drove a big truck up into camp filled with brand new rifles!” As Miller was walking to the supply officers tent he thought blissfully of home, he had never been rich but thankfully he had come from a somewhat wealthy family. The fifth son of a once large farm that only traded locally, his farther had jumped on the chance to open trade with the UFT and its sphere of influence. Of course their family was able to hire helpers and focus on spending their newly found money, but that was never for Miller. He preferred working the land and going to bed every night knowing he had helped feed their local friends and family. At some point he just decided the lazy life wasn’t for him and spent his newly found money on traveling to the capital of Austin, there he took up as an apprentice in a radio shop. He never thought he’d end up signing up for the militia but when the call went out for more able bodied men to fill auxiliary roles, he did what he thought was right and signed up. He was lucky he knew radios so well because they gave him an option, either join up as radio operator or join up as a janitor. If his farther knew he was in the militia he would probably be proud but disappointed Miller chose a life of hard work over the wealth their family had come into. Miller stopped at the supply officers tent flaps and requested to enter, after a rough voice from within gave him permission to enter he walked in and was surprised to find Major Johnson there. The Major nodded at Miller with a slight smile, “Good to see you made it in one piece son, the ride west was rough on all of us.” Miller kept his attitude to himself and nodded before quickly walking out of the tent, just his luck. As he was walking to Major Johnson’s tent in the center of camp the sun beat down on his neck and he rubbed it before walking by some of the heavy walkers the supply Officer was talking about. True to his word these walkers were very different from the brand new ones he had seen in Mexico and on posters around the UFT, many of them had images of sexy women painted on their sides and most seemed to have rusted metal sheets roughly welded onto their hulls where the new walkers had purpose built add on armor. He had a bad feeling in his stomach as he walked into Major Johnson’s tent and stood at attention. The Major saw him enter and waved for him to be at ease. Miller nodded and asked, “If this is deemed an important enough mission to amass this invasion force, why aren’t we getting better equipment like the boys in the east are? This just seems like another Mexico but with more bodies.” |
Well someone has to keep the flame alive while ya’ll get lazy lol |
The struggle is real |
This happens way too frequently to count. But to keep things short, whenever things need to happen, Achain never makes them happen and we end up in stalemate. |
Better Matt do something than you and TRN spend 500 years doing nothing. |
lmao mad |
Very. |
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