WE ARE THE ALLIES, AXIS, AND RESISTANCE, ALL HUNTING THE ARK

"I seem to having a bit of a problem, here..."

"What is it?"

"My wing got hit. Black fire."

"Aw, not a- anyway, you better do something about that, eh?"

The damaged fighter makes a sprint back towards Canterbury, which is now lingering just out of Zanzibar. As soon as it hooks back onto the trapeze, the damaged and by now mostly burned up wing is jettisoned.

???: I'm so glad you had no doubt in the talents of my smiths, Boer. Where is Commander Nwosu?

Pierre: Occupied at present; he'll be with us shortly.

-the smoke seems to smile, become more defined, more humanoid even as it steals the breath from several more riders-

???: Ex-cellent...

edited 21st Jul '10 11:57:41 AM by SullenFrog

The Bedouins take their WELL PAYING GUESTS into the FRAY. There they see a collasal tank trying to right itslef after a bomber attack.

CRUZ: You thinking what I'm thinking?

HEN: Ditch the camels if we can?

CRUZ: Bingo.

-They dismount and make their way towards the tank, Yolanda using a pair of BINOCULARS and Hendricks using a JEWELERS GLASS to scope out hatches or points of entry.-

HEN: Just hope we don't get spotted.

SENSORS REPORT NON-ARMED PERSONNEL WITHIN PERIMETER. COMMENCING ELIMINATION PROTOCOLS. DEATH TO ALL WHO OPPOSE.

-the tank, still blasting out against the ship drives towards Hen and Cruz-

edited 21st Jul '10 12:03:03 PM by Meta-ridley

-the Fey drops a grenade of his own while trying to avoid the gunfire; it detonates with a loud pop-

I may not be able to use any magic for a while, but those ignoramuses shouldn't be able to harm me with magic either.

-he takes up a position and starts firing again, trying to make his position difficult to spot-

-As there riders fall, the horses go into a mad frenzy. They charge the bikers, ripping them from their mounts and tearing at them with their teeth-

Samson: Well, that just isn't cricket! Where is my mount?

McLeod: It's here, sir. Not many get to ride the Each Uisge and live. Enjoy the distinction.

-A great bird lands on the deck. It transforms into a great black horse, saddle upon it's back. Samson climbs up and sits atop it, and it jumps over the side, landing in the water-

Samson: Aaaagh!

-Pierre's bike is sent flying by the explosion, both vehicle and rider crying out in pain. The hoverbike quickly rights itself after impact, driving in protective circles around its unconscious rider and shooting at any non-African that gets too close-

-the mist has coagulated into a tall African man dressed in red. in one hand he carries a machete, and in the other, a jug of rum; he smells strongly of fire, sweat and iron-

???: Step right up, Miss Jennifer, and we'll see how long you can last against the God of War.

edited 21st Jul '10 12:09:22 PM by SullenFrog

CRUZ: It's driving towards us.

HEN: Spotted us?

CRUZ: Spotted us.

-Hen stows his Tommygun under a rock and pulls out a chisel and starts hammering away at another one a few feet away.-

HEN: Look busy, take notes or something.

CRUZ: You're lucky I'm taking notes, nobody can read you chicken scratch!

HEN: That's the spirit!

-The crate is brought as close to the shore as possible.-

You understand, we cannot bring it out of the water without rolling it, and thus risking awakening it.

??? Of course.

But... -the man glances around. Other than the man's black limousine parked some distance away, there is only a handful of thuggish-looking men brought by the unknown man.- If I may, how will you take it out?

??? (smiling thinly): I'm afraid the answer to that question was not part of the deal. Suffice to say, we have our ways...

... Fair enough. Now, these documents...

???: Yes, give them here.

-Walking over to a folding table guarded by a muscular henchman, the ship's envoy opens his briefcase and pulls out a sheath of papers.-

As you can see, they only require your stamp and signature.

???: No doubt, no doubt. -He reads the documents through anyway.- Well, this seems in order. Helmut, my stamp and inkwell, please.

-Helmut, a heavily scarred man, pulls the stamp and inkwell out of a pouch and gives them to his employer, while eyeing the other man, an African, disdainfully.-

???: Thank you. Now...

-The man begins stamping and signing the documents. When finished, he hands them to the other man.-

???: Done. You, your men, and the crew are now released from military service under Germany.

Thank you. {Let's go!}

-The crewmembers, having finished mooring the crate in place, head back to the ship.-

???: Helmut?

Helmut: Ja?

???: What have I told you about dealing with the inferior races?

Helmut: But mein herr, to reduce ourselves to dealing with these...

???: I know, I know. But that is no reason to be impolite. You would not kick your own dog for no reason, would you? Now, when the ship is out of sight, have your men gather up the braseros and set them up around the crate, it is high time we brought the Reich's secret weapon to use...

-the tank slowly comes to a stop in front of the two people-

EXPLAIN YOURSELF. WHY ARE YOU ON A BATTLE-FIELD WITH NO WEAPONS? DO YOU OPPOSE THE NAZI'S?

-Samson lands with a splash, but the horse appears to be standing on the water-

Samson: Charge!

-Samson charges across the water, sabre drawn, towards the fighting-

Jenny Greenteeth: Gladly, Ogoun. The Romans had a war god over in Gibraltar, didn't help them one bit.

-Hendricks turns around and wipes his head on his sleave, he raches into a pocket and puts on his glasses. Yolanda sits on a rock, looking bored and hot (in both senses of the word, the proffessor would assert).-

HEN: Oh my, a tank, eh? Well, we're both para-geologists here doing some research about oricalcum. Is there a problem herr, erm, who exactly am I addressing?

YOU ARE ADDRESSING THE DEMON Sidí̱rou polemistí̱s. ANSWER MY QUESTIONS. DO YOU OPPOSE THE REICH?

HEN: Well, I don't think I would have voted for Hitler, but it's your country. No, I guess. Say, as a matter of proffessional interest, are you linked up using salt or gypsum infused silver threads?

-Yolanda takes out her COMPACT and touches up her make up, the mirror flashes brightly in the desert sun, visible for quite a distance.-

-Ogoun laughs-

Ogoun: You're honestly comparing me to that autistic loon? You don't understand the meaning of the term, Saxon.

-the Lwa's jug transforms into a hammer, and he drops to one knee and begins to beat it against the suddenly molten blade of his sword-

Ogoun: Besides which, Mars is just a war god, whereas I...

-flames begin to erupt across the battlefield, forming protective rings around the Resistance members and chasing after the British riders and horses-

Ogoun: ...am also the God of Fire, among other things.

-the Iron Warrior fires a quick blast of energy at Samson-

NO. I WOULD SUGGEST LEAVING. THIS IS A FIELD OF BATTLE. YOU DID NOT VOTE FOR HITLER SO YOU ARE NOT ENTITLED TO FIGHT. LEAVE NOW.

-The cargo steams off into the night. Helmut, having moved the torches in place, grabs a flashlight and begins signaling the sky. Soon afterwards, thick steel cables seem to drop out of the sky, which Helmut and his men quickly tie to the crate.-

Helmut: Come on...

-From the night sky a vast dark shape grows larger, as though a void was devouring the stars. As it moves into torchlight range, it is revealed to be a massive zeppelin, with a swastika on each side. Helmut's crew, standing on top of the crate, check the cable's bindings, then flash a signal to the zepelin. It lifts off, pulling the crate inside nearly effortlessly, and heads off inland.-

-The man watches the zeppelin flying off until it has faded out of sight-

???: Soon... Come, Helmut! We must head back to the Embassy!

-The man gets back in his limousine, Helmut taking the wheel. They drive off, and soon the beach is deserted, showing no sign of illicit activity.-

Rule Brittania, Brittania rules the waves!

-McLeod hits a button aboard the Implacable. There is a deafening Thud, and a shockwave spreads out form the boat. A few miles out in the ocean, the water churns, piling together into a rogue wave which sweeps up into the coast, extinguishing the flames-

McLeod: Take that, ya rum-swigging fire-throwing git!

-One of the side-guns of the Implacable swivels to fire at Ogoun-

With the tank having wandered off, the remaining fighter starts hunting members of the African Resistance.

Onboard Canterbury, repairs to the other aircraft is being repaired..

-Ogoun stares at the incoming projectile and grins-

Ogoun: Well, now...this ought to be fun.

-transforming his hammer back into a jug of rum, the War God takes a faily large swig of it and holds his blazing sword in front of his mouth, waiting for the inbound missile to reach him-

Ogoun: Are You Ready?!

Resistance members: -singing even as they scramble to dodge the fighters' assault- Are You Ready?!

edited 21st Jul '10 12:37:03 PM by SullenFrog

Die, bastards!

-the Lwa takes a deep breath and exhales; the heat of his sword ignites the gas of the rum, sending a massive and alarmingly hot jet of red fire straight at the incoming projectile. Its purpose, however, was not to destroy, but to deflect, and suddenly the blazing missile is streaking towards one of the British fighters-

-G.O.R. finally crests a hill near the battle, allowing Yaw Nwosu to glare grimly at the battlefield-

Nwosu: Looks like I got here just in time...

edited 21st Jul '10 12:43:19 PM by SullenFrog

-Jenny Greenteeth leaps upwards, spinning, and intercepts the shell, her improvised club sending it hurtling off towards Nwosu-

Jenny: We should go to Wimbledon sometime.

-Meanwhile, on the Implacable-

McLeod: Pretty party trick. Let's see what ya do if I do this...

-The Implacable swivels another gun to point at Ogoun. It fires not a shell, but a blast of force, peppered with razor-sharp shrapnel, blowing the Lwa backwards-

"Oh my, looks like I got a missile on my tail."

The pilot rolls, dives and speeds low over the city to stay ahead of the missile until it runs out of fuel.

Unsure where to go from this...

Start attacking more ground forces!

Such crude magic... and cruder technology.

-he continues firing at the bikers-