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  1. Somewhere in the Arctic Tundra North of Bascombe, Concord II Concord system - Free Worlds League May 27, 3031 (Friday) ______________________________________________ “I need you to get Archangel back to the Pandora!” Captain Maxwell’s voice shouted in my headset, his words backdropped by the explosions of combat and artillery fire "We need her watching the Doppler radar so that we’ve got eyes in this goddamn mess.” I shoved Perses’ throttle to full, narrowly avoiding the impact of another artillery shell that would have blown Idris completely off the ‘Mech’s shoulder. Curie, in the rumble seat behind and to my immediate left, gave a surprised yell as I veered the massive BattleMech sharply to the right, almost on instinct. My head swam under the effects of the cocktail of Vitamin K and prothrombin complex concentrate that she’d injected me with to try to balance out the blood thinner keeping my nanites flowing. "Copy that, Eden." I responded, glancing apologetically at Curie. "Sorry, this is going to be a rough ride." “OK.” she responded tersely, her face a bit pale as I flipped the ‘Mech into full sprint towards the safety of our command vehicle. The hard turn made us lurch violently to the side, the Orion’s feet losing traction on the snow and ice. "Easy there Rebus!" Idris barked through the comm, his voice laced with an edge of fear. “I am barely hanging on out here.” I looked at the external feed and saw his power armor was clinging to my ‘Mech’s hull for dear life. "I'm doing what I can, but it's a damned war zone out here!" I called back apologetically as another artillery round exploded directly beside us, jarring the cockpit and causing my ribs to protest in pain. Even though Curie had done what she could to get my torso bandaged up, there was only so much she could do in the cramped confines of a moving 'Mech. It felt like the world had transformed into a seismograph as we ran, each step of the Orion shaking us violently. “So, look, Juniad, when we get there, I think you’re gonna need to scoop up Curie and - “ I began, but my words were cut off and we were abruptly thrown forward as forty long-range missiles and a blistering pounding of medium laser fire smashed into Perses’ rear armor, the alarming shriek of metal and alarms blaring in response. “Nick…!” Curie stammered as the impact almost knocked us flat. "Hold on!" I barked, bringing the Orion about and trying to identify our assailant. The cockpit bucked violently again under another devastating impact of missiles and lasers. “Junaid! You still alive out there?” "Jah, but...barely!" Idris managed to reply through heavy gasps. The battlefield was a blender of chaos and destruction. Aegis Division’s ‘Mechs were all in a pitched brawl with the Onyx Vagabonds, trading punches with high-impact weaponry that would make lesser machines crumble. Artillery rained from the sky like a deadly hailstorm, turning the ground into a treacherous minefield of explosions, craters, and debris. All the while, the looming blizzard progressively blotted out the sun more and more, casting the environment in an ominous twilight. As I caught sight of the offending BattleMech, a monstrous Archer painted blood red, I instinctively drew a bead on it and cut loose with Perses’ AC/10 and LRM-10, flinging an angry volley of ordnance back at the assault ‘Mech. The Archer recoiled slightly as my slugs and missiles tore into its armor. But the hulking machine barely paused in its movement as it returned fire with a backhanded sweep of medium laser fire, the green energy bolts cleaving through the frigid air and striking my Orion's center of mass. "Fuck!" I yelled as the assault rocked the cockpit. “Not much armor!” Curie pointed out, her voice strained. "Need…move more!" “Where the fuck is Aces Wild?” I asked, gritting my teeth. To my surprise, Markus Drake’s gravelly tone cut across the comms. “We’re posted up to the east of your position, Rebus.” he replied. “Currently dug in providing overwatch for Pandora and adjacent support units. If you can get to us, we can get that Archer off your back.” "Appreciated." I responded, my words punctuated by a grunt as another salvo hit the Orion. Quickly, I slammed my ‘Mech into an evasive run, weaving through the artillery fire while periodically pivoting its torso to sling autocannon, laser, and missile fire haphazardly back at the Archer. Under the dual onslaught of my own wild shooting and occasional friendly artillery fire from its own flanks, the Archer started to give ground, but it didn't abandon its pursuit. Undeterred, I pressed forward, barreling through the icy landscape towards Drake's position. Soon, I could see the hulking shapes of a Manticore and three Rommel tanks looming ahead in the snow. Their turrets swiveled towards us, watching the unfolding chase with predatory ease. I felt a sudden wave of relief wash over me, followed by a surge of renewed adrenaline. "Rebus." Drake's voice crackled again. "You have three seconds to clear our firing line. Make it count.” “That’s all I need.” I advised as I drove Perses at a stupidly reckless speed towards the line of tanks. “Three.” Drake’s voice counted off, as clinical and detached as if he were announcing the time of day. I could feel every thud and clatter as the Orion lumbered the uneven ground, missile and laser rounds occasionally striking the rear armor, making its chassis creak and wail in protest. “Two.” Drake continued, the tension in the air rising with each passing second. Curie clung to the safety harness, a wide-eyed expression of concern set on her face. The distance between the Archer and my 'Mech was shrinking dangerously close. "Ready?" I asked her, not taking my eyes off the rapidly approaching line of friendly tanks. She nodded, gripping the edges of her seat tighter. "Ready." she murmured, her voice barely audible over the deafening alarms and weapons fire. As we breached the firing line, I swerved hard to the right, throwing the Orion into a power slide, veering sharply to one side. "One.” Markus' voice was ice-cold, the single syllable echoing in my cockpit. His tanks opened fire, sending a salvo of shell, energy, and missile blasts rocketing past my 'Mech into the pursuing Archer. The ground shook from the barrage, and I clenched the controls to steel us against the shockwave that rattled through Perses. The Archer, too close to retreat, was engulfed in a storm of fire and shrapnel. It staggered, caught off-guard by the onslaught, its armor cracking and smoking. As the enemy pilot regained his footing and began reversing away from the defensive line, the combined forces of Aces Wild fired again. This time, the Archer's left arm armor disintegrated in a blinding flash of light and smoke while its right ammunition bin spontaneously exploded, its torso twisting violently in response to the blowout. The enemy ‘Mech, now a walking inferno, stumbled backward and faltered, its movements jerky and uncoordinated. Struggling for control, its pilot turned away from the engagement and made a run for it, dragging the Archer’s damaged body off into the snow-streaked landscape. “Thank you, Dragon lance.” I called out on the radio. “Don’t mention it.” Drake replied. I steered Perses alongside the Pandora BRV and brought us to a rough, skidding stop. The blizzard was almost on tope of us now, and the world outside my cockpit into a white maelstrom. "Curie, we're here. You ready to disembark?" I asked. Curie looked up from her grip on the safety harness, her eyes meeting mine. "Ready." she said, her fingers tightening around the metal supports. I nodded. “OK. Go ahead and get your stuff together. I’ll page your ride.” Keying the comms microphone, I hailed Idris. "Juniad, this is Rebus. Requesting immediate extraction for Technician Franklin. Over." "Copy that, Rebus. Tell me when to pop the hatch." came Idris's calm reply. Even after everything we’d just been through, he was still unflappable, something I admired about the guy. I turned to Curie, who had unbuckled, gotten herself fully attired, and had her medical bag slung over her shoulder. As we made eye contact, she raised an eyebrow. “Fly…again?” she asked hesitantly. "Yeah, but just a quick one this time. And, thanks...for patching me up." I smiled. Curie nodded. "Take care...of you." she said, then looked up at the cockpit hatch. "Be safe." "I'll try." I replied. But I knew I could only do so much.
    4 points
  2. Somewhere in the Arctic Tundra North of Bascombe, Concord II Concord system - Free Worlds League May 27, 3031 (Friday) ______________________________________________ “All units, be aware of the attempted ambush and watch out for other hidden units. We still don't know where their aerospace assets are but don't anticipate any of them in the worsening storm, and we haven’t located the Vagabonds’ third lance yet. You are weapons-free; call your targets once in range. Good hunting, Aegis,” I radioed as we advanced on the enemy. The snow was coming down thicker now, turning the world into a swirling white panorama punctuated by the dark silhouettes of towering BattleMechs. In the distance, I saw the distinctive muzzle flash of artillery: sudden pulses of orange fire that slashed through the whiteout. "Artillery at two o'clock!" I shouted. "Keep out of their direct line of sight!" “Looking for the spotter!” Alyssa announced as I brought my King Crab's torso around, swinging it into an evasive turn, its twin Gauss Rifles tracking the oncoming Stalker. The bulky, two-legged BattleMech was designed for heavy firefights, armed with a formidable mixture of long and short-range weaponry. Packing twin LRM-20s, four medium lasers, and two SRM-6 launchers, the damn thing was a nightmare for any 'Mech not equipped for brawling. I steeled my nerves and glanced down at my weather readout to calibrate my aim. The wind was picking up, moving in from the east at a blistering speed that would skew any shot I didn't account for. Unfortunately, the readout was blank. Curie was still aboard Nick’s Orion. The air around my BattleMech erupted into a hellish tempest as the artillery rounds exploded, the shockwaves rocking the heavy King Crab. I winced as debris peppered the cockpit's reinforced windshield, a cacophony of violent impacts muted only by the thick plating of my ‘Mech. I cursed as the maelstrom subsided, only to be replaced by Ares’ battle computer screaming warnings of missile locks. With grim determination, I focused on my enemy, threading the targeting reticle over the distant form of the Stalker. As I did so, twin blossoms of smoke and fire erupted from its LRM-20 launchers, streaks of deadly intent carving through the snowfall toward me. "Eden to all units: engaging the Stalker!" I called out as the salvo hit home, chewing into my armor. I gritted my teeth, feeling the vibrations through my cockpit. Recovering, I thumbed the communications console to switch to a direct line with Warrant Officer Schuster. “Break. Eden to Rebus.” “Go ahead, Eden!” Schuster's voice responded just as a bright lance of laser fire shot past my cockpit, illuminating the darkened interior for a fraction of a second before dissipating into the swirling snowstorm. The Stalker was living up to its name. “Rebus, are you all patched up over there?” I asked, the wail of Ares’ LRM-10 suite announcing a hard lock on the Stalker. I squeezed the firing trigger, launching a salvo of missiles into the blizzard. “As much as I’m gonna be,” Schuster's voice strained over the comms as he wrestled with an unseen assailant. “Ready to join the fun again.” “Good. I need you to get Archangel back to the Pandora,” I explained, unleashing twin AC/20 rounds from the King Crab's claws into the Stalker. The hypersonic slugs caught the beast across its nose, staggering it sideways. The impact smashed through several layers of armor plating, scattering pieces into the wind. "We need her watching the Doppler radar so that we’ve got eyes in this goddamn mess.” "Copy that, Eden," Schuster acknowledged, his words punctuating the distant rumble of a fresh artillery barrage. “Traveler and Mantis are holding the staging area and can cover your retreat. Be quick, though - we need every gun we can get out here," I added, not taking my eyes off the stormy battlefield. The Stalker had steered into a long, lazy turn, disappearing intermittently behind a series of snow-covered outcroppings. I raked Ares’ pulse lasers across the frozen stone, pulverizing the rocks and revealing the Stalker once more. It immediately pivoted its torso toward me, retorting with blistering return fire - a cocktail of SRM and medium later fire that washed over the King Crab's hull with a deafening impact. "Roger that, Eden, Junaid and I are on it!" Nick’s voice faded as he cut the transmission. I squeezed off another twin volley of AC/20 rounds, the muffled thud of impact further out telling me that my rounds had found their mark. The Stalker seemed to falter, its movements becoming sluggish in the freezing conditions. Just as I thought I was gaining the upper hand, a fresh wave of artillery fire rained down on my position. I felt the ground shake, the world outside the cockpit becoming a fiery hellscape as the high-explosive rounds detonated all around me and sent shards of frozen earth up into the air. The King Crab's advanced gyroscopic stabilizer struggled to maintain balance, but I fought against the disorienting sway and kept Ares upright. "Come on old girl…don't fail me now," I muttered under my breath. “Let’s take the fight back to them.”
    4 points
  3. Final approach to the HPG Complex, northern Artic Tundra North of Bascombe, Concord II Concord system - Free Worlds League May 27, 3031 (Friday) ______________________________________________ We'd managed to regroup with the rest of Aegis Division in short order and were back on track towards the HPG station, we had dispatched the singular enemy lance with relative ease and to the best of our knowledge we had even prevented them from alerting the rest of the Vagabonds mercenary company to our presence. However, we weren't naïve enough to think that the enemy was completely unprepared or that we had any further element of surprise than what the storm itself was providing and Alyssa's ECM suite. After regrouping Charles contacted our support elements, who were supposed to be approaching the HPG from the South and South-East along the road from Bascombe, and confirmed that the BRV, along with our supplies and the Command Van following behind, were making decent headway and should be at their rendezvous more or less on schedule. Their rendezvous location would be roughly at the same elevation as the clifftop stationed HPG facility, though at sufficient distance as to avoid any combat that would be occurring in a few short minutes when we arrived to recapture it. Due to the fight with the enemy lance, and despite it being a running battle, we were slightly behind in our original schedule and the support elements would arrive at their station before we engaged the enemies at the HPG facility, we needed to make up the lost time or risk the chance that the Vagabonds would detect our support elements and move to investigate, or worse, engage them. Pushing our machines to the max in the deepening snow held its own risks but they were ones we had to accept if we wanted to reach the HPG soon enough to protect our support elements and ahead of the still oncoming storm. Checking with Charles, since Curie was apparently now in Nick's Orion somehow, I missed the details on that one, we confirmed that the weather front was indeed still approaching rapidly and that what we had experienced thus far was just the fringes of the real storm bearing down on us. That was a scary thought given the difficulty already experienced and looking back towards the horizon from which the storm approached told wonders from what little we could make out amongst the still falling snow. The Black Knight groaned as it plodded its way up a steadily increasing incline, according to the topographical maps we had our approach to the HPG station, coming in from the East, had a nearly 40° incline for the last 3km before reaching the HPG station situated on a narrow but wide plateau that followed alongside a deep ravine cut by an ancient glacier. This meant that the HPG was nearly 2km higher in elevation than we currently were, and our 'mechs would be slowed down even more due to the strain of climbing such a steep incline. Thankfully the humanoid form of BattleMechs allowed for such an endeavour as a conventional vehicle would never make it up that slope in the current conditions. At some in the first third of the climb a momentary glow was spotted somewhere in the distance, hidden by the falling snow but unmistakable all the same, it wasn't clear what the source was but shortly after a streak of muted light, almost resembling a long lasting meteor, was spotted in the sky. "What is that?" inquired Marius on the comms, genuine curiosity in his voice, "Is anyone else seeing this, ... streak of light?" "I see it Mantis, but I don't know what it is. Shouldn't be anything flying in this weather," I offered, also now watching the odd streak of light rise higher wondering if it actually had an arc to it or if it was just my vision playing tricks with the snowfall. "I see it too," replied Steve jumping into the conversation, his tone implying there was more he was going to add but only empty silence followed. A few more speculative observations were given before everyone was able to see that the streak indeed did have an arc of some kind as its upwards ascent slowed and then came to a stop before the streak then began a slight downwards trajectory, its glow becoming subtly brighter. "I've got a bad feeling about this guys," said Alyssa, concern wringing her voice as we all realized that whatever this glow was it was potentially now heading towards us. The streak suddenly seemed to be getting steadily larger and brighter, although it had actually been doing so for some time it was now suddenly noticeable and Charles, along with a few others, came to conclusion that it was in all likelihood some kind of attack. "Scatter!" shouted Charles on the comms, "It's artillery!" The artillery shell, burning bright like a rocket on reentry now like some kind of tracer round, ripped through the snowstorm as though it cared nothing for the gale force winds that must have been buffeting it in the upper atmosphere. We had no real idea where it was coming from our going to but the threat of an artillery strike against was more than enough to get everyone moving. With the steep incline preventing any meaningful increase in speed heading West most everyone moved laterally to spread out across the large hill and hopefully avoid the impact, or at least lessen the damage suffered as a whole across the entire team. No sooner had we begun to split off than the artillery shell fired off a series of flares like a conventional fighter might do to try and shake a heat-seeking missile. These considerably smaller streaks of light arced out in pairs until 8 new light sources seemed to hover in the air in a large ring before the main 'shell' appears to burn out and disappear, as the incredibly bright ring of flares hovered in the air it became apparent that this first artillery shell had actually been an illumination shell and didn't actual pose a direct threat to us, however the long lasting flares were bright enough to pierce through even the dense snowfall and provided an easy target for further shots from whatever artillery unit was firing at us. Once again taking charge, Charles commanded on the radio, "Fan out, 90m spread, keep advancing." As everyone moved to comply a sudden explosion erupted some distance behind us, too far back to have any chance of hitting anyone but the size of the blast and the cloud of snow and debris launched skyward were still daunting. Several long seconds later, Aegis Division continuing to advance up the steep hill, a second explosion ripped apart the frozen tundra even farther behind us, the storm likely affecting the accuracy of the artillery as shattered rocks and ice scattered across the snow in deep furrows. "I'm guessing its a Thumper Eden," I offered as I noted the size of the explosions, which were actually comparatively small compared to some artillery I'd seen in the Alliance Militia. "I concur," added Idris, "And only one unit judging by the interval between shells." "Excellent observations, Bastion, Juniad. That's still one piece more than I want to deal with," replied Charles, "I don't think they are accounting for the travel times of the shells either, if those last two are anything to go by." A third explosion erupted close, in the artillery sense (within 40m), to Maxwell's King Crab the fireball engulfing the colossal machine in a momentary firestorm that flared out almost as quickly as it arrived, the Assault 'mech stomping through the wispy remains as though nothing had happened. "Scratch that," intoned the Captain, his voice unperturbed despite just getting hit by literal artillery, "They fixed their aim, and it is definitely a Thumper. The explosion may be impressive but it barely scratched the paint, pretty sure a medium laser would have done at least as much damage. Still, I wouldn't recommend getting any closer to the point of impact." A fourth explosion followed in relatively close succession, the timing between shots becoming obvious now, but this one was once again way off from the mark, this time over 100m to the north. Aegis continued to stay fanned out, doing our best to maintain 90m between any given units will navigating the difficult terrain and the heavy snow all at once. The next round was another flare shell, a series of bright military grade flares illuminating the storm darkened sky some distance ahead of us and in a location we would have no choice but to pass beneath. Yet another explosive shell came next, I had the timing down now and could anticipate when the next shell would arrive, eliminating the surprise and involuntary jump as the sudden explosion rumbled the ground enough to be felt inside the 'mech itself. I could not however guess where the explosion would occur and this time it was the Black Knight and I that were caught in the crossfire. The shell impacted somewhere to my right, far enough away to avoid the worst of the pressure wave and blast from the HE round itself but still close enough to feel everything as my 75-ton 'mech rocked heavily to the side. The Black Knight's center of gravity was notably higher in comparison to the King Crab and being 25 tons lighter meant it couldn't simply weather through the blast through sheer size alone; however, I was still able to keep the war machine upright with ease and as Charles had previously stated the actual damage sustained was barely comparable to a medium laser or AC/5. Wisps of smoke curled up from the burnt paint on my 'mech's right shoulder, its now blackened exterior standing in a sharper contrast against the snow than the steel blue of the Aegis Division paint job that had been adorning the Black Knight previously. Pushing onwards I drove my lightly damaged BattleMech further up the slope, trying to maintain a point position even though our formation had effectively broken apart at the start of the artillery barrage. A pair of flare rounds followed next in succession, the first lighting up the vicinity around Charles' King Crab and Marius' Marauder, while the second landed some distance ahead of us again, although seemingly to far ahead to have been planned. Next followed a true barrage of HE rounds as 5 consecutive rounds landed with near perfect timing, the impacts scattered amongst our formation with only one of them managing to just clip both Wicked in the Merlin and Traveler in the Catapult when they inadvertently got close together, although given the travel time the rounds seemed to have it was more likely just a lucky shot as opposed to a carefully calculated one. Several of the shots in the barrage landed close to Nick's Orion, two of them in succession, when he strayed under one of the flares for too long, which lead to this exchange between Idris and Nick. "Rebus, stay away from flares if you please. You may be cozy inside explosion proof metal box, I, not so much." "Sorry Juniad, I didn't forget about you out there, this terrain is being difficult. I didn't think they'd track us that quickly from this distance," replied Nick apologetically. "Good point. I think they must have spotter nearby," answered Idris thoughtfully. "Good call Junaid," broke in Charles, "All units, be on the lookout for a potential spotter. They must have someone directing that artillery." A minute or so later, after the remainder of the current barrage of HE shells had passed and the artillery unit began launching another salvo of flare rounds, Whitley spoke up on the comms. "Pretty sure that spotter is dead, I hunted down a Sherpa and crushed it just now," reported Whitley assuredly, unbeknownst to the rest of Aegis he merely stumbled upon the vehicle hidden amongst some rocks by accident as he attempted to climb over said rocks in the Merlin, even crushing it had been inadvertent when the 'mech's foot slipped on the snow and ice. "That's good," answered Alyssa somewhat dismissively, "But I've got more bad news, I'm reading 4 large contacts ahead and they are getting closer." "Vagabonds?" inquired Charles, more to just confirm it as there would be no reason for picking up any other contacts out here in this weather. "Afraid so," replied Alyssa, the tone of her voice imparting an image of her shaking her head in resignation. "Distance?" "A kilometer away, just outside the HPG but closing on us. Close enough that soon the artillery is going to have to think twice about shooting at us to avoid the risk of friendly fire in this weather," confirmed Alyssa, as though reading Charles' mind. A short time later, after only 2 final HE shells from the artillery unit, both of which missed by a considerable margin, my own sensors began picking up contacts, the enemy making no attempt to hide their identity, location, or intentions as they marched straight at us in a line with the heaviest 'mech's they had available. Confirming with the rest of the team as they also began to pick up the 'mech contacts it appeared that the Onyx Vagabonds had dispatched their heavy lance to meet us outside the HPG station head-on. Alyssa added that she had support vehicle contacts in the vicinity of the HPG station now, but they appeared to be stationed on the north side of the complex as though prepping to evac. An 80-ton STC-2C Striker, a 65-ton CRD-3R Crusader, an 85-ton STK-3H Stalker (a well known missile variant), and a 70-ton ARC-2R Archer, rumoured to be Taryne Trinity's personal 'mech. A formidable force to be certain but we still outclassed them both in sheer numbers and overall weight, although one for one they were on pretty even footing with us and likely still had their third lance in reserve somewhere. As we continued to approach, neither group adjusting their pace, a series of flare rounds began to explode above us and to the front illuminating what would likely become our battleground within mere minutes. "Bastion, you seeing that, at the edge of the shadows from those flares ahead. Pretty sure that rock has gun barrels," Nick asked, his Orion now flanking me as our lances began forming up again to face the oncoming threat. "I do," I replied as I spotted what Nick had seen and then spotted a similar object on the other side of the area illuminated by the same flare, "There's another one on the other side too." Using my 'mechs "improved" sensors, as in they weren't completely degraded by centuries of patchwork repairs and the command-level gear aboard the Black Knight offering additional processing power for sensor interpretations, I tried to pry out what the clearly disguised units might be but with limited success. It was obvious that they were conventional combat vehicles, just from the size and orientation of them, but the only thing I could confidently confirm was that they did not possess fusion engines, which did basically nothing to actually identify them. Passing the odd detail on to Alyssa her actually advanced sensor suite was able to pick out some further details when directed to the proper locations and came back with potential matches that aligned with the known enemy units operating with the Onyx Vagabonds. An 80-ton AC2 variant of the Partisan Heavy Tank, a 60-ton Pike Support Vehicle, and what was most likely a 60-ton Bulldog Main Battle Tank. Maxwell, who was privy to the whole conversation, made the call to continue the advance, opting to use the knowledge of the attempted ambush to thwart it head-on while not revealing that the enemy's own flares had tipped their hand. With Aegis Division's lances reformed we continued the push up the last of the incline before engaging with this new set of enemy units. "All units, be aware of the attempted ambush and watch out for other hidden units. We still don't know where their aerospace assets are but don't anticipate any of them in the worsening storm and we haven't located the Vagabonds third lance yet. You are weapons free, call your targets once in range. Good hunting Aegis."
    4 points
  4. North of Bascombe, Concord II Concord system - Free Worlds League May 27, 3031 (Friday) ______________________________________________ The radio crackled to life. “Eden to Rebus. Need a hand?” Snow drifts went blasting up the windshield of the BRV as its' plow plowed through them. Real snow really did look kinda like those Scene TV snow graphics, and the staticky radio completed the effect. There was a fluctuation on the line that sounded sorta like breathing. I really hoped Nick's comms were just broken, and nothing worse had happened. "Rebus, do you copy?" the captain said over the radio. I looked in one of the mirrors for seeing what was going on in the BRV and helping people not bump into each other and stuff; Mallory was poking at a terminal looking really tense, which didn't make me feel better at all. "Is he alright?" I asked. "Your other half's seems to have found himself a dancing partner and now they're doing the tango, but he can handle himself. All you have to worry about is keeping us on the road." I watched the whole top half of another snowdrift blast up the windshield and white us out for a couple seconds. "Uh, yeah, bad news about that - GPS got weird and I can't tell if we're messing up the left shoulder or the right shoulder in all this snow." Mallory laughed. "At least the road crews will have job security when this blows ov-" "Tango down," Idris said over the comms, barely hearable through all the static. "Enforcer eliminated." And then there was Nick's voice: "Thank you, Juniad. That was something else." He sounded exhausted and kinda fucked up, but he'd made it. I breathed, "ohthankgoodness," and relaxed for about half a second, but then the BRV tanked over something that went crunch and I had to focus on the maps and trying to find the road, or at least making sure we didn't run off a cliff. "Easy now," Mallory said." Nick pulled through. Imagine his disappointment if you pulled up to the HPG station dead." I did a nervous laugh. A few more crunches happened, but they weren't as loud, so maybe that was less bad? "Hey, wait a minute," I said. "How can I pull up anywhere if I'm dead? I mean somebody else could drive, but then they'd be the one pulling up." "Somehow, I don't think that would lessen his grief." Then there was another crunch, and a reflective yellow road sign went flying up the windshield, and there was a thing on it, and I yelled "WHAAAAA" and accidentally swerved the BRV. "What's going on up there?" one of the techs yelled. "I FOUND THE ROAD!" I hollared back. I swerved the BRV some more, because now I knew where the road was supposed to be, to the left of the sign. The BRV didn't drive any different, but at least it was probably doing less property damage now. "Hey," I said, "does anyone know what a road sign with a walrus-thing with a shell and drooly bits is supposed to be?" Somebody who'd walked right behind me, I think Antonio, said "I think the 'drooly bits' are tentacles." Mallory added, "a mammal with tentacles, that's a first." There'd been a whole bunch of radio traffic between Idris and the captain that I hadn't paid a ton of attention to, since I could barely make out the words anyway, but then one caught my ear - "Eden to Rebus." "We don't know it's a mammal," Antonio argued, "it could be convergent evol-" "Ssh!" I said. I was pretty sure Nick had been on the comms but I hadn't been able to hear at all. The radio said "bzzz bzzzzz direct on bzzt?" and then, "Robzzzt Eden, bzzzz when you are." Of course it wasn't possible to tell how he was doing just from a radio transmission where I couldn't even make out all the words, but I had this really, really bad feeling. It was too similar to how he'd sounded in between puking his guts out at the circus, except it definitely wasn't an alcohol problem this time. "Excellent," said the next transmission. "Bzzzzt speed and be ready-" and then it collapsed into static. "Think about it," Antonio droned on, "about half the planets with complex vertibrates and moderate tempuratures have something like a cow, and wherever crabs are studied they usually find at least three completely unrelated kinds, sometimes as many as fourteen, and-" The BRV lurched backward without actually moving backward - we just sorta lost forward momentum for half a second. "Hey Antonio," I half-yelled over the radio static, "what's ahead on the topo map? Does it get any steeper?" There was some mumbling and shuffling, and then Antonio called back, "not much, we're almost over the ridge - getting back up it when we leave could be interesting, though." I pumped the gas, hoping that'd get a little more traction to the treads like the opposite of an anti-lock break. "Thanks - we'll save the shrapnel for later then, we might need it. Hopefully we won't have to retreat in a hurry or anything." As we reached the top of the ridge, the radio static started to make words again. "Excellent. Match my speed and be ready to receive Junaid and Archangel." "Archangel?" I asked. "Isn't that-" "Curie," Mallory finished. For a few minutes after that it was like the BRV got too cold for speech bubbles. Antonio finally broke the silence. "How can she switch mechs when the mechs are moving? I mean, with the hatch positions on a King Crab and an Orion, docking them wouldn't work at all." Antonio made a weird gesture with his fingers, probably meaning for each hand to be a mech, but it made no sense at all. "Holy shit, I think he's gonna use the jetpack. That's awesome," I said without thinking. "I mean, other than being wildly dangerous, I can't believe they got Maxwell on board with that plan, it'd have to be-" I caught Mallory's eyes in the mirror, and the cab got even colder. "oh. oh crap." "Yeah," Mallory said softly. The BRV's treads ground on a snowdrift, then finally cut through, spraying the windshield with white. "Let's hope Idris knows what he's doing, and the weather holds." I did my best to keep the BRV on the road as it lurched and skidded down the slope, and we all listened to the radio. “The package is ready. Are you?” "I am ready." A gust of wind picked up, throwing snow sideways across the windshield and whiting out all the windows on the left side. "Very well. Rebus, I need bzzzzbzzzbzzzt maneuvers, aff? Let’s give Junaid the most stable platforms we can.” “I’m on it.” Nick sounded like he'd just gone three rounds with a rabid dog and been told a tiger was up next, which I guessed made sense, if his blood was filling up with pointy little robots again. “Alright, sir. I’m there. Ready for launch.” "We’re readzzzzzzzzzzzzzzt, too. Juniad, you can bzzzzzzzz soon bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzt-” "Come on come on, not now," I hissed at the radio's speaker. "Weather window's closing," Mallory said, almost monotone. "Can you give her more gas?" "I'm trying, but Nick's probably dying or something and Curie and Idris might get splatted like windshield bugs, it's really distracting!" "Focus on what you can do," Mallory said. "Get us to the rendezvous point, and trust them to handle the rest. Your boyfriend, Idris and Curie are all tough cookies." Mallory's face was uncharacteristically blank in the BRV's mirror. I drove.
    4 points
  5. Somewhere in the Artic Tundra North of Bascombe, Concord II Concord system - Free Worlds League May 27, 3031 (Friday) ______________________________________________ I ploughed forward into the deepening snow, trying my best to keep up with the Ostroc who had me beat by at least 20km/h at top speed, deep furrows trailing behind me as the war machine fought for purchase in the frozen ground beneath. While the speed difference sounded significant, and actually was in virtually any scenario, I had two things working in my favour; first the time frame we were working with, on the order of minutes for most engagements, meant the enemy couldn't straight up outrun me that easily, or at least my gun ranges. Second, the 'mech's actual design was currently a hindrance, slight as it may be, whereas my Black Knight had a more humanoid styled foot, narrow and long, the Ostroc had a large circular design with clawed toes, great for soft surfaces like sand or deep enough snow where you didn't want to sink in but right now it prevented the 'mech from getting its feet through the fresh fallen snow and onto the hard frozen surface beneath. This meant the 'mech actually had slightly less grip with the fresh snow causing its footing to slip just enough to hinder its top speed, or at least cause the pilot to think twice about pushing it to the max. I intended to take full advantage of the situation and unleashed another barrage of energy weapons fire at the now fleeing Ostroc, my PPC just grazing its left arm and causing minimal damage while the twin large lasers struck an unfortunate boulder that the enemy had just skirted around, the beams dumping enough energy into the frozen rock to cause it to explode in a hail of harmless, at least to a 'mech, stones and shards. Having expected to be chasing down this particular enemy by myself I was surprised to see another PPC bolt flash past me and strike a glancing, but still solid hit to the enemy's left torso, a glowing shallow crater of semi-molten armour quickly cooling in its wake. Expecting to see Marius in the Marauder, just given our original positions when the enemy showed up, I was again surprised to see Jack Whitley in my Merlin bringing up the flank. While both 'mech's technically had the same top speed I noticed that Whitley was somehow gaining on me ever so slightly and in a moment I saw how as he ignited the Merlin's jump jets at full stride, but rather than launching himself fully into the air he cut them short and used short bursts to propel the 'mech along the ground, its similarly long and narrow feet skimming along the top of the larger snow banks before landing back down without breaking its stride. I knew Jack was supposed to be an excellent mech pilot, not least of all from his own boasting, but this was the first time I actually got to see it in action and I was impressed, particularly since he had relatively limited experience in the Merlin. "Nice driving Wicked," I offered over the unit-to-unit comm, "Let's run this guy down." "Yeah, yeah, this is easy," replied Jack nonchalantly, his tone implying he wasn't interested in any small talk, "I got this." Between the terrain and Whitley's skilled use of the Merlin's jump jets he was able to close to just within medium laser range and he unleashed a barrage of fire from the 60-ton 'mech's arsenal. The LRMs flew wide, exploding in fountains of snow and ice all around the evading Ostroc, while the single medium laser he fired just missed the 'mech's right hip, the PPC also melting meaningless amounts of snow a considerable distance away from the enemy 'mech. As tempted as I was to make a comment about Jack's lackluster accuracy I kept my mouth shut as I didn't even have a shot to take at the moment myself, between the intervening rocks and a sudden elevation change I hadn't spotted until the Ostroc suddenly dropped several meters as it ran down the hill, I was left scrambling to get back into a position where I could even fire on the enemy. Cresting the narrow ridge I was greeted by a pair of large lasers that were close enough to warm my canopy glass, though they thankfully didn't hit, as the enemy had slowed and pivoted once fully into the depression to try and bring their weapons to bear on me while also evading another salvo of inaccurate fire from Jack in my old Merlin. Utilizing the Black Knight's powerful sensors I was able to quickly draw a firing solution on the still slowed enemy Ostroc and unleashed an alpha strike despite the overheat risk that was a very real threat given my all energy loadout. Twin azure spears of coherent light lanced out from either torso tracing lines of destruction downrange, only a single beam managed to make contact with the now accelerating Ostroc but it was solid hit to their center torso. The quartet of medium lasers lanced through the raging storm outside with all 4 beams striking home across the enemy 'mech, all three torso locations had new ravines of molten slag etched into their surfaces while the Ostroc's left leg had enough armour melted at the knee joint to cause a hitch in its next step, fortuitously timed to the impact of my PPC. The bolt of charged particles comprising the particle projection cannon's streak of bottled lightning struck violently into the Ostroc's left torso just as the momentarily seized joint on its left leg stuttered before breaking free of the brittle slag. Compounded with the slippery surface and uneven terrain beneath its round feet the combined loss of over 2 tons of armour, the surprisingly heavy impact of a significant amount of particles travelling near the speed of light, and the momentary stumble of the temporarily seized joint was enough to send the Ostroc sprawling across the frozen wastes as its pilot failed to keep the machine upright. Its own weight crushing what little armour remained along its left torso as the frozen tundra tore away the shattered plating, to their credit however the Ostroc's pilot was immediately working on getting back up and wasted no time in getting mobile again, my own weapons barely had time to cycle before they were back on their feet. Not that it mattered as the temperature in my cockpit had sky rocketed to the point of some of the metal paneling actually shimmering with heat waves from the sudden onslaught of heat the alpha strike had delivered, warning klaxons bellowed for attention as I slapped the shutdown override controls hoping the frigid storm outside my 'mech would help alleviate the worst of the heat in short order. From outside the armoured cowlings housing the plentiful heat sinks on my Black Knight would be glowing a deep angry orange, well past the typical red glow of 'mech in combat, and the falling snow was likely sublimating into steam vapour just by entering the vicinity of the Black Knight's overtaxed heat sinks. If my 'mech had carried any ammunition I would have been severely worried about a cook-off but at least the all energy loadout meant that wasn't a concern. Taking advantage of the enemy's fall Jack maneuvered the Merlin into a better firing position, unleashing an alpha strike of his own enroute as the now beleaguered 'mech stood up, most of the shots were glancing blows but the medium lasers were able to core into the Ostroc's left arm though they hit nothing vital. The still rattled enemy Mechwarrior let loose with their own considerable arsenal towards Jack, though his quick use of the Merlin's jump jets meant all of the enemy shots pierced empty air as he sailed over them on quad jets of fire burning from the 'mech's sturdy legs. With my 'mech's heat levels still in the red, though starting to slowly drop finally, I could do little more than watch, and drive my own 'mech ever closer, as the two evenly matched BattleMechs closed to within melee range. The Ostroc pilot had correctly guessed Jack's intentions when he launched skyward over his attempted counterattack and he ensured that he was far enough away to prevent the fated death-from-above attack that some MechWarriors were want to attempt, instead he waited until the Merlin dropped low enough in its arc to prevent any significant course changes and then charged the Ostroc forward in an attempt to get the first blow in. Jack, for his part, also seemed to have anticipated such an action as a quick final burst from the jump jets in the right leg gave the Merlin enough angular momentum to sweep its leg out of the path of the oncoming attack, a running kick with the Ostroc left leg in mid stride. Jack once again showed off his actually impressive piloting skills as he then planted the 60-ton 'mechs right leg just long to arrest his backwards drift before launching forward half a step with the same leg, planting it once again and pivoting hard to bring the Merlin's left leg out in a full powered kick to the rear of the Ostroc's right leg. The missed kick had put the enemy pilot off balance again and then the sudden impact of 12 tons of armoured limb, with the full weight of a 60-ton 'mech behind it, was enough to buckle the enemy's leg from behind and the pilot was once again unable to compensate, the gyro screaming as the 60-ton enemy 'mech toppled backwards in slow motion, its own weight once again crushing a notable amount of armour on its center rear torso, a routinely under-armoured section of most 'mechs. Despite yet another fall the enemy MechWarrior was still able to get their 'mech back upright in short order and were still determined to get away, firing a pair of medium lasers and their SRM-4 at Whitley as they backed away they scored a lucky strike and all three weapons managed to hit the Merlin's right leg before the turned and ran as fast as their 'mech could go. The destruction wreaked upon the Merlin's savaged leg likely had numerous alarms blaring at Jack as more than a ton of armour was stripped from the 'mech within seconds, but despite the brutal onslaught the venerable machine's leg, and indeed the armour itself, held. With my own 'mech finally cooled to the point where I could confidently fire my energy weapons again I took aim at the once again fleeing Ostroc and fired the Black Knight's arm mounted PPC, the transient beam of particles streaked across the winter wonderland like a bolt of lightning before crashing harmfully into the enemy's damaged right leg. The advantageous strike was more luck than skill as I had intentionally aimed for center mass for the best chance of hitting the enemy but I'd still take it as the momentary EMP effect wrapped around the Ostroc's compromised limb, crackling with destructive energies. With Jack and the Merlin having recovered from the enemy's attack he too unleashed his own stream of charged particles, the beam coring into the enemy's right torso at such an angle it merely melted through some thin layers of armour before streaking off into the snowstorm. The medium laser and machine gun fire that followed however were much better aimed with both emerald spears of high energy light lancing through what little remained of the right leg's armour before Jack raked the Merlin's twin machine guns down the stricken Ostroc's rear torso and into the exposed internals of the right leg, the multi-barrel weapons glowing white hot as Jack continued to hold down the trigger spewing sufficient lead from the normally heat-less guns to start actually registering on a 'mech scale. The light-caliber rounds, compared to other 'mech weaponry, made up for their insignificant individual damage with sheer volume of fire as literal hundreds of rounds bullied their way into the comparatively delicate internals of the Ostroc's vulnerable leg. One, or more likely several, of the high velocity shells struck something critical inside as sparks, smoke, and possibly a small explosion erupted from within before the savaged limb literally fell off during the 'mech's next stride. The shattered hip actuator still working helplessly to try and propel a leg that was no longer there as the machine tilted and then fell one final time, the MechWarrior within attempting to brace against the fall with the Ostroc's arms to little effect as the combined weight of the war machine simply crushed the already damaged left arm, its upper arm actuator spearing out the side of the internal structure like a broken bone while the 60-ton 'mech bounced and skidded to a stop on the frozen landscape. Jack and I approached the downed enemy 'mech, its now futile attempt at escape finally put to rest, with our weapons still targeting the enemy unit, both of us aware that a prone 'mech could still be dangerous. With Jack reaching the Ostroc first I stayed back a few steps and prepared to broadcast an order to surrender when Jack turned the Merlin back to look directly at me as he brought the 'mech's foot up above the rear of the downed 'mech's cockpit, as though he wanted to make sure I saw what he was doing. Before I could respond, and even before Jack could drop the 12-ton limb in a curb stomping action that would crush the Ostroc's cockpit, a series of small explosions along the top of the 'mech were followed by a sudden blast of an ejection seat rocketing away on an extremely hazardous horizontal trajectory away from the prone 'mech. The seat appeared to clip something on its way out of the 'mech as the exhaust plume spiraled away at an odd angle into the snowstorm but there was no way to tell if the pilot was injured or if the ejection had simply been slightly off due to the 'mech's unusual orientation. Unfortunately, due to the heavy storm and low visibility I quickly lost track of the small escape pod and my sensors didn't have the fidelity necessary to track something that small. The sound of sheering ferrosteel and grinding armour plates drew my attention back to the now abandoned Ostroc and I saw that Jack, despite the futile effort now, had decided to finish his curb stomp maneuver and crushed the already empty cockpit with a definitive straightening of the Merlin's formidable leg, the destroyed enemy 'mech twisted at a slight angle now from the action. "Bastion to Eden," I called on the company wide channel, "Ostroc is down but the pilot escaped. They ejected towards the south but we lost them in the storm." "Copy that Bastion, nothing we can do about it now. Link up with the rest of team, this storm is only going to get worse and we need to get to that HPG station before it does," replied Charles, the resignation in his voice evident although his stoic resolve overshadowed it. "Affirmative Eden, Wicked and Bastion are Oscar-Mike," I replied, signaling to Jack with the Black Knight's hands the direction we needed to move in. Switching back to the unit-to-unit channel I said, "Nice work Wicked, good to see you're not all talk. Let's regroup with the others." "I told you I'm good, not my fault if you didn't believe me. And unlike your other little minions I know how to keep track of where I am on the battlefield, I don't need you pointing out directions to me," scoffed Jack. With a sigh I closed the channel and shook my head, the man definitely had talent but it seemed to only be limited to fighting, on or off the battlefield, I just hoped Charles and I could blunt his confrontational attitude long enough for him to actually become part of the team, if not I wasn't sure how long he'd last in Aegis Division.
    4 points
  6. Somewhere in the Arctic Tundra North of Bascombe, Concord II Concord system - Free Worlds League May 27, 3031 (Friday) ______________________________________________ As terrified as Curie was at the prospect of being carried aloft to Nick’s Orion, Idris was just as nervous about performing the daunting feat. Sure, he had extensive experience with jump jets, both from his time in the Free Worlds League Military and his years spent servicing 'Mechs. But never had any of those experiences involved ferrying a fragile human life from one moving BattleMech to another, especially not in the midst of a blizzard. This challenge was an entirely different beast. Calm down, Nasir, Idris thought as he clung to Perses’ lumbering frame, waiting for the "go" signal. Do not overthink this plan. You jump to Maxwell’s King Crab. Take up Curie in your arms. Leave one hand free. Jump back to Perses. Slow descent through hover maneuvers. Soft landing. Open unlocked cockpit hatch. Assist Curie onto the ladder. Close hatch. Indeed, it was all easier said than done, but Idris understood that if Captain Maxwell had greenlit as utterly insane a plan as this one, the situation must be dire. Long minutes passed as the technician mentally rehearsed the maneuver, trying to ignore the white flurries descending around them. "Alright, Juniad," Charles’ voice eventually announced, breaking the silence in Idris’ headset, “the package is ready. Are you?” The technician took a deep breath, gripping the armored suit's controls tightly. "I am ready," he replied, his voice more confident than he felt. Charles’ King Crab slid into view, a hulking silhouette against the fast-approaching snowstorm. Idris paused to study the 'Mech, noting the wide, oblong chassis and enormous claws from which the war machine’s name derived. With its arms outstretched, it looked like some monstrous crustacean, and Idris could see Curie's small torso peering out from the open cockpit hatch. "Very well, then," Charles acknowledged, his voice grim. “Rebus, I need you to match both my speed and maneuvers, aff? Let’s give Juniad the most stable platforms we can.” “I’m on it,” Nick replied, his voice strained. Idris could practically hear Nick's teeth gritting with pain. Clearly, the young corporal was hurting - probably a lot. Within a few moments, Perses was in lock-step with Ares, both leviathans leaving huge, plowed furrows in the snow. “Alright, sir. I’m there. Ready for launch.” “We’re ready over here, too,” the captain confirmed. “Junaid, you can begin your run as soon as you’re ready.” Idris nodded, even though he knew Maxwell wasn't there to see it. "Let's do this," he announced, steeling himself for the leap. Drawing on every ounce of his training and years of experience, he leaned forward, extended his parafoil, and, with little else but the storm guiding his path, fired the jump pack. The world seemed to slow as Curie, squinting through the billowing snow, watched the technician throw himself off Perses atop a pillar of flame. Her breath caught in her chest as he shot across the gap, the illuminated glass of his helmet casting a ghostly halo in the churning, virulent snowstorm. For what seemed like an eternity, Idris hung against the blank canvas of the gale, a lone figure in a suit of armor. Then, just as abruptly, time reasserted itself. Idris crashed into Ares’ hull, landing in a kneeled posture with a booming thud that resonated through Curie’s bones. As his parafoil snapped shut, he scrambled to his feet, the exoskeleton making the task almost effortless despite his substantial bulk and gravity’s pull. Curie edged further up the King Crab’s ladder, ensuring that her comm headset was securely seated in her ear. Seconds later, Idris was crouched beside the hatch, meeting her apprehensive gaze with a nod, his large gauntlet outstretched. “Ready to fly, Specialist?” Curie swallowed, nodding as she grabbed the offered hand. Was she ready? Far from it. But this…’wicked stunt’…was necessary for Nick's survival. “Yes,” she replied pensively. Her fingers wrapped around Idris' metallic fingers, and he assisted her up onto Ares’ rolling deck, the cold grip of the suit a stark contrast against her flesh. She clung to him, trying to steady herself, a shiver of apprehension rippling through her as she took in the sight of Perses looming next to them. Idris, meanwhile, regarded the spectacle with concern. Nick’s BattleMech was a far less generous landing platform than Ares. Although the technician could comfortably mount and dismount from the machine’s shoulder on his own, this time, he’d be trying to do so with an altered center of gravity while weighing 56 kilograms more than normal. He cast a glance at Curie, his eyes evaluating her figure as he mentally calculated the risk. "OK, Curie," he finally instructed, outstretching his arms and crouching down. “Arms around my neck. I will carry you.” Curie hesitated for a heartbeat before squaring her shoulders and doing as instructed. Approaching the technician, she wrapped her arms firmly around the back of the suit’s rubberized neck, interlocking her fingers. Then, in an instant, Idris scooped her from the King Crab’s deck, holding her cradled protectively in his left arm. “Juniad to Rebus and Eden: the package is collected. Ready to return,” he advised. “Copy that, Juniad,” Nick responded. “Rebus is ready to receive.” “Eden to Juniad: you’re clear to fly,” Charles confirmed. Idris looked down at Curie one final time. “Here we go.” The next seconds transpired in a blur for Specialist Franklin. As she clung to him, Idris barreled forward, the edge of Ares’ hull rapidly approaching before giving way to a stark, vertiginous drop. With a loud bang, the suit’s parafoil deployed, and there was a brief sensation of free-fall before the armor's jump pack fired, propelling them into the blustery sky. The frosty wind tore at Curie's face, whipping her hair into a frenzied dance. Her heart thudded in her ears as she squinted, trying to see something - anything - through the blizzard's frigid embrace. The world whirled around her in a chaotic canvas of white and gray, punctuated by the intermittent shapes of the two leviathans. "Almost there," Idris reassured her as the Orion loomed straight ahead. “Gonna do a brake and hover.” Curie felt a wild sense of disorientation as Idris suddenly pulled the parafoil into a vertical stall maneuver. As they ascended, frost began to form on Curie's cheeks, the chill of it making her eyes water. Her fingers were becoming numb, and she was grateful for the cold, strong embrace of the ICE-S suit. "Juniad to Rebus. Prepare to receive," Idris' voice echoed in her ear as the ascent bled away. The suit’s parafoil stowed away as the jump pack activated in short, precise bursts. Curie glanced down and noticed that they were descending directly over Perses' shoulder; Idris was using the suit’s jump jets to ensure a gentle, controlled landing. "I see you, Junaid," Nick replied. "I'll try to keep the wheel straight." In moments, the suit’s feet made contact with the Orion’s hull, connecting with a solid thud. Idris reeled slightly and shot out his left gauntlet to grab a nearby handhold. Then, without further pause, he worked his way across the heaving and rolling surface, carrying Curie to the cockpit hatch. Kneeling down to steady himself, Idris opened it with a powerful tug. A blast of warm air rushed past Curie’s neck, making her shudder in the abrupt contrast. "Junaid to Rebus," he reported, “we’re aboard.” “I gathered that,” Nick quipped. “It’s fucking cold in here now!” Idris gave a low chuckle. "Sorry about that, Rebus." He gently unclasped Curie from himself, using the power armor’s considerable strength to place her directly on the cockpit’s ladder. “Good job, Specialist,” he smiled. “Now, go. Be with your patient.” Curie returned a small smile at Idris' words. "Thank you," she whispered as she descended into the Orion. Idris closed the hatch behind her, rose, and returned to his customary hitch point on Perses’ shoulder. Only then did he allow himself a long, shuddering breath, the sheer magnitude of what he’d just pulled off finally sinking in. Elsewhere, within the King Crab’s cockpit, Charles waited pensively for the situation report. He’d refrained from requesting updates, respecting Idris’ need for total focus during the intense maneuver. He’d kept his eyes trained on the HUD, watching the incredible maneuvers with rapt anticipation. But now, the silence was deafening. Just as Charles reached for the comm toggle, the status report he’d been waiting for crackled in. “Rebus to Eden: the package is aboard and unharmed,” Nick advised. “She’s working on me now.” A surge of relief washed over Charles. “Roger that, Rebus. Nice work, both of you. Let’s regroup with the rest of the gang and get to the HPG station before we can’t see our own noses.”
    4 points
  7. Somewhere in the Arctic Tundra North of Bascombe, Concord II Concord system - Free Worlds League May 27, 3031 (Friday) ______________________________________________ Charles grunted in frustration as Commander Jaeger's Black Knight and Private Whitley's Merlin disappeared into the oncoming wall of snow, pursuing the enemy Ostroc at a rate of speed much higher than his own King Crab was capable of achieving. Meanwhile, Alyssa and her protective garrison continued to jockey their positions to keep an ECM shield over the expanding area of engagement. Scanning the radar plotter to find another target of opportunity, Charles’ eyes momentarily caught a glimpse of Curie in the jump seat; her brow furrowed in deep concern and eyes fixed on her weather plotter. “Something on your mind, Specialist?” Charles asked, attempting to keep the mood light as he swung toward a hostile Vulcan that was presently harrying Steve Jenkins’ Crab. “Rebus…Nick's…vital signs…are not good,” Curie's voice cut through the cockpit’s internal comms. An expression of deep concern met Charles’ eyes as she looked up at him, interrupted abruptly as her body was jostled by the movement of the BattleMech. Captain Maxwell cursed under his breath, locating Schuster's Orion on the sensor plotter. It was further from the center of the engagement than the captain would have preferred to move his King Crab, given that, while it wasn't particularly fast, the 95-ton assault ‘Mech's incredible stopping power made it a valuable overwatch asset to the rest of the lance. “Define ‘not good,’ Specialist,” Charles pressed as his targeting and tracking system informed him that the enemy Vulcan was now within missile range of the King Crab. Curie, for her part, struggled to form a verbal response. How does one quantify, succinctly, a bio-monitor's warning signs indicating adverse reactions to blood thinners and an aggravated rib injury, especially when words are…hard? After a moment’s pause, she pivoted to her communication tablet, where she typed out the symptoms: The message appeared on Charles' secondary console screen, bathed in the harsh, flickering light of warning indicators and tactical readouts. As the BattleMech bumped and trundled toward Jenkins’ firefight, the captain took a moment to read the information. “Why would he have internal bleeding? When did that happen?” Captain Maxwell pressed, an ominous sensation of dread beginning to grip him. He refocused his attention on the tactical readouts, drawing a bead on the Vulcan with the King Crab’s AC/20s. Curie, still gripping the edge of the cockpit console as the ‘Mech lurched sporadically, pressed her lips into a thin line as she considered how to respond. Nick had specifically asked her to keep the information about his rib injury confidential unless it became an issue that affected the mission. Presently, there was no clear indication that the mission had been jeopardized. But the precipitous drop in his vitals painted an alarming prognosis. Curie found herself wrestling with her innate sense of patient confidentiality and the growing urgency necessitating full disclosure. “WOOT! One Vulcan down!” Steve’s voice shouted over the comms as his opponent was unceremoniously destroyed by an internal ammunition explosion. “And HAGAKURE 2 needs a wash!” Fumbling slightly, Curie quickly typed out a response, her fingers hovering hesitantly over the send button before finally pressing it with an air of resigned necessity. As Charles read the message, he felt his blood pressure rising. Once, just once, he wished that Nick would be transparent about his crises rather than allowing them to escalate to a critical mass before they got addressed. He understood Schuster’s dedication and admired it, but not when it turned into self-destruction. He decided then and there that once they were out of this mess, a conversation about trust was definitely in order. "Son of a bitch," Charles muttered under his breath, his hands tight around the controls as the King Crab plodded its way across the snow-laden terrain. Noticing that Nick appeared to be engaged with a marauding Enforcer, he swung Ares around and began navigating toward the melee, the oncoming blizzard reducing visibility by the second. “Alright. Once we get this mess mopped up, we’ll circle the wagons and get you over there to check him out.” Curie didn’t like the sound of that. “What is…’circle the wagons?’” "It's an old Terran expression," Charles explained, maintaining his focus. "Means we're gonna stop pushing toward the HPG station and bunch up for defense. Make it tough for any bastards thinkin' about takin' a shot at us while we get you down the ladder and over to have a look at Schuster." Curie processed this information with a slight tilt of her head, then looked at her weather plotter with concern. Based on the worsening conditions and the rate of the storm’s advancement, any delay in the attempt to reach the HPG station could result in Aegis Division being stranded in whiteout conditions and unable to navigate. She felt a swell of unease at the impasse she was facing: delaying medical intervention for Corporal Schuster could endanger his life. Delaying the push toward the comm station could endanger everyone. "Ni...Nick must wait," Curie stammered, her voice edged with the situation’s urgency. "We cannot stop. The storm is too close. Too risky." Curie’s advisement caught Captain Maxwell entirely off-guard, his knuckles turning white against Ares’ yoke as he processed her words. He knew It went against every fiber of Curie’s being to keep pushing forward while one of her charges was wounded. But she was right. The storm was closing in fast, and they didn't have time to hunker down. His mind raced as he considered alternative solutions. “Well, let’s at least see if we can help him out with his bad guy, huh? The sooner we get him out of that firefight, the better off he’ll be." "Agreed," Curie replied, her attention rapidly flicking back and forth between the weather station and Schuster’s bio-readouts. Within a few moments, Nick's Orion came into view, locked in combat with the Enforcer. Charles' eyes widened as he saw that, despite the difference in size between the two machines, Schuster's 'Mech had taken the brunt of the damage. Scorches, pockmarks, and gashes covered its frame, with armor plates bent around its shoulders and cockpit - indications it had been on the receiving end of a Death from Above attack. The two war machines were engaged in brutal physical combat, although, to Charles, it seemed like the Orion was mostly on the defensive while the Enforcer relentlessly drove forward, attacking with an unyielding barrage of blows. “Eden to Rebus,” Captain Maxwell radioed as he steered Ares into a wide, counterclockwise orbit around the two combatants. “Need a hand?” Intervening in a ‘Mech-sized brawl with ranged weapons was risky and could potentially hit Nick's Orion. For a moment, Charles considered a physical intervention - ramming the Enforcer with Ares - but quickly dismissed it. While it would certainly put an end to the fight, if the enemy pilot had a good hold on Nick’s ‘Mech at the moment of impact, the inertia could pull both 'Mechs down in a twisted heap. The risk was too high. The comms filled with the sound of Nick breathing heavily, but there came no reply. "Rebus, do you copy?" Charles called again, his tone growing more serious. The static-filled silence that followed was deafening. In the meantime, Curie's attention was split between the violence outside and Nick's vital signs - the results were equally disconcerting. His heart rate and blood pressure were skyrocketing, and the bio-readouts on the secondary screen displayed an alarming increase in adrenaline levels. His breathing was becoming increasingly labored. She knew she had to get to him immediately, but even if time allowed for it, the ongoing 'Mech battle made it impossible. Just then, a plume of flame shot skyward from the Enforcer’s head, causing Charles to throttle Ares down and pivot the ‘Mech directly toward the spectacle for a better look. Curie, too, froze mid-task, her eyes fixed on the sight. A bulky, humanoid shape stood atop the hostile war machine, peering down into its cockpit. Charles moved his zoom reticle over the figure, magnifying the feed. It was a person clad in a suit of powered armor. It was Idris. Barely did Charles and Curie have time to process what they were seeing than Idris cast something into the Enforcer’s cockpit and quickly dove away, the wings of his parafoil snapping open just as a secondary explosion ignited where the enemy pilot had been. The hostile BattleMech relinquished its grip on Nick's Orion, causing it to lurch backward. The Enforcer wobbled for a moment before finally collapsing to the ground, defeated. “Tango down,” Idris’ voice crackled, sounding winded but satisfied. “Enforcer eliminated.” “Thank you, Juniad,” Nick responded, his breathing labored. As he spoke, Perses slowed to a halt. "That was something else." "Any time, sir,” Idris answered. “Coming back up now." Before Charles could cut in, Curie was already on the comms, attempting to hail her patient. “Rebus. You require medical attention,” she explained, her voice firm. A long pause followed. “Yes,” Nick eventually sighed. “But we gotta keep moving. We can’t stop the whole damn convoy just to bring you over.” Charles, listening in, felt a pang of resignation at Corporal Schuster’s words. Despite Nick's condition, it seemed everyone believed it was necessary to keep moving forward. As Idris took his place atop Perses, the war machine began lumbering through the blizzard. Captain Maxwell steered Ares into flank formation alongside the ‘Mech. Meanwhile, Curie continued to converse with its pilot. “You require medical attention,” she argued, even though she realized that the decision to continue on had already been made and that, for better or worse, she’d been a part of it. Despite that, pushing back against Schuster felt like the only form of control she had in this helpless situation. "Your vitals…not within acceptable parameters." "I know," Nick’s pained voice acknowledged. "But we can't afford to halt our progress. Not now." Curie looked toward the captain, eyes pleading to him for guidance. Suddenly, a wave of inspiration swept over Charles. “Eden to Rebus, glad to see you in one piece,” he interjected, cutting into their conversation. There came a fraction of a moment's pause before Schuster responded. “Good to see you too, Eden,” Nick answered. "Rebus," Charles explained reassuringly. "We need you stable in that Orion. You can't function if there's a hitch in your step." "I can handle it, sir," Nick insisted, but his voice wavered slightly. "That’s great to hear, but you might not have to ‘handle’ it,” the captain answered, fixing his gaze on Curie in the rear-view. “Think I’ve got a plan to get help over to you without stopping the convoy. Give me two Mikes, and I’ll be back with you. Meantime, keep your ‘Mech in lock-step with mine, copy?” "Copy, Eden," the corporal affirmed, his voice coming through clenched teeth. Charles quickly closed the channel. Setting Ares’ autopilot, he turned to Curie. "You ever watch one of those holovids where they transfer a sailor between two ships at sea?" Curie looked puzzled for a moment, then her eyes widened as she grasped Captain Maxwell’s intent. "You…move me…to Rebus…while moving?" Charles nodded. "Exactly. Takes far too long to stop both ‘Mechs, drop the emergency ladder, get you dressed and down to the ground, then back up again into Schuster’s cockpit. But, we got a man riding on Perses’ shoulder with a jump pack, parafoil, and an armored suit that can easily carry you.” Curie’s eyes conveyed her trepidation - or possibly shock. The captain's gaze softened. “I know it sounds like pure insanity, Curie, but we don’t have much choice at this point. As you rightly pointed out, that storm wall is damn near on top of us, and we’re fresh out of time. If you want to treat your patient, this is the way to do it.” Curie sat silently for a moment, weighing the risks. She’d never imagined doing something so audacious, let alone ever tried it. Not in any of her lifetimes. But then again, she had never been in a situation quite like this before. Finally, she took a deep breath, nodded, and whispered, "I…I’ll do it," her voice shaking slightly. Charles grinned, relieved. "Good. Get your gear on. Wouldn’t want you to catch your death of cold out there. I'll let Nasir know, and we’ll start the prep." “Wait,” Curie interjected, her voice louder this time. “Who will watch…the weather?” Charles chuckled lightly. "You just focus on gettin' to Nick for now. I'll make sure we don’t run headlong into that storm. At this point, it’s making its position pretty obvious. Think I can handle a turn at the wheel." Curie nodded again, then rose from her station to retrieve her pants and medical coat. Meanwhile, the captain opened a comm channel to Idris. "Eden to Juniad.” “Juniad. Go,” the technician replied, the howling wind in the background nearly drowning out his voice. “Juniad, I've got a job for you,” Charles explained. “One that might just put hair on that chest of yours." Nasir's thick accent came through the speaker with a hint of amusement. "You think I have not enough already?" Maxwell could almost see the mechanic grinning and shook his head with a laugh. "Maybe so, Nasir, but what I need from you is to prep for a passenger transfer. Curie'll be making a quick house call to Rebus, and I’m going to need you to come across and get her." There was another burst of wind, and then Idris' voice came through again, slightly muffled. "Passenger transfer? You mean you want me to…” "Jump," Charles finished for him, "Between my King Crab and Nick's Orion. With some precious cargo." The comm line was silent for a few moments as Nasir digested the task at hand. Finally, he scoffed, "In this weather? With our only meteorologist? You have too much faith in me, Captain." "But faith's what we're all running on, isn't it, Junaid?" Charles quipped, the steady thump of the King Crab's footfalls punctuating his question. "Faith and a good dose of insanity." There was a pause on the other end of the line, then a barely perceptible sigh. "Yes, sir. You are right. I’ll prep for jump and come aboard at your signal." “That’s the spirit,” Maxwell beamed, attempting to keep the mood light. “Break. Eden to Rebus.” “Go ahead, Eden,” Schuster answered. “Were you direct on all of that?” "Roger, Eden," Nick’s strained voice replied. "Ready when you are." "Excellent. Match my speed and be ready to receive Junaid and Archangel." Charles instructed. A grunt that sounded like an affirmative could be heard from Schuster's end. Curie had finished changing into her medical gear by now and stood just behind the pilot's couch. She was bundled up in her coat, the blue scarf pulled tight around her neck, medical satchel slung across her torso. Charles turned to face her, his eyes scanning her worried expression. "You good, Specialist?" Curie bobbed her head, her hands awkwardly fumbling with the straps of the bag. "Sure," she replied, her tone revealing that she was anything but. "No need to worry," Charles reassured her firmly. "You’re in the best hands with Idris." Curie nodded a final time, the storm outside reflecting in her icy blue eyes as the cabin's dim light danced on her cheekbones. "Trusting the plan," she murmured.
    4 points
  8. Somewhere in the Arctic Tundra North of Bascombe, Concord II Concord system - Free Worlds League May 27, 3031 (Friday) ______________________________________________ In what felt like a split second, we went from trudging through frozen, empty wastes to full-blown combat. Captain Maxwell's King Crab was slugging it out with a Guillotine, Sergeant Jenkins was tangling with a Vulcan, and Commander Jaeger's Black Knight, flanked by Private Whitley's Merlin, was in hot pursuit of a speedy Ostroc. Lieutenant Lennox, piloting a Marauder, and Lieutenant Blackwood, in a Catapult, stood guard on either side of First Lieutenant Maxwell's Raven to ensure no one could disrupt the powerful jamming field she was broadcasting. Meanwhile, I had somehow managed to get the attention of the ENF-4R Enforcer, and we were now circling each other in the thickening snow. Perses, my Orion, felt sluggish under me, probably because I still wasn't used to piloting something as heavy as 75 tons. As I engaged the enemy pilot, I watched as the smaller 50-ton Enforcer sidestepped to its left, trying to stay out of my forward arc while trying get a bead on me with its right arm-mounted large laser. I pivoted Perses in the same direction, keeping the brunt of my 'Mech's armor facing the enemy. The Enforcer fired the first shot. Bluish light sizzled through the air and splashed against my Orion's torso, melting snow and burning paint. “Junaid! You still in one piece out there?” I shouted into my headset, worried that the technician, who was riding on Perses’ shoulder in his ICE-S armor, might have gotten hit in the process. My ribcage screamed in protest from the exertion of yelling as I adjusted my aim for a counterstrike. "Indeed, Rebus." responded Idris’ stoic voice. "No need to worry about me." "Good." I whispered, lining up a shot. The Enforcer was moving fast, and with the blizzard bearing down, visibility was getting worse by the second. I squeezed my trigger, sending a volley of autocannon shells and medium laser fire back at the enemy. The shot was good, hitting the Enforcer square in the chest, sending sparks flying and armor slagging off into the snow. The Enforcer stumbled back, but got its footing back quickly. Then, unexpectedly, it fired its jump jets and soared over me, landing directly in the Orion's rear arc. "Rebus, hostile has landed on your six!" Idris quickly reported. “Blake damn it!” I cursed, feeling the impact of the Enforcer's AC/10,small laser, and large laser slamming into Perses’ rear armor. "Roger that!" I grunted in response, twisting my Orion violently around. “Whoa!” I heard Idris shout in my headset. “Do not forget I am riding on top here!" My broken rib also protested. The pain now felt like a white-hot lance stabbing through my side. I was also surprisingly out of breath, something Curie had warned me was a side effect of the blood thinner. But there was no time to succumb. As the Enforcer came back into view, I could see that the ‘Mech was already lining up for another shot. I knew I had to act first. Not bothering to dial in my aim, I simply blind-fired all three medium lasers, the AC/10, and even the SRM-4 launcher. The resulting explosion of light and heat was blinding, even through my cockpit's polarized canopy. I saw the Enforcer stagger backward as its armor cracked and split, but it still managed to return fire with its AC/10, large laser, and small laser. The depleted uranium rounds, ruby, and emerald beams sliced through the swirling snow and slammed into Perses, sending a shudder through the ‘Mech's massive frame. Warning indicators lit up my HUD, and I pushed the throttle up, trying to start a Circle of Death around the Enforcer. Perses bounded forward, the cockpit and my targeting reticle swinging wildly as I tried to track the Enforcer's movements. Even though my Orion and the Enforcer were matched for speed, the smaller 'Mech moved deftly despite the pounding it had taken, and I had trouble keeping it in my sights. Meanwhile, its pilot continuously took potshots at me, slowly whittling down various sections of Perses’ armor. "Juniad, hang tight!" I called out to Idris. Ignoring the pain in my rib, I threw Perses into a skidding halt that sent tons of snow flying. The Enforcer's pilot didn't anticipate the sudden change in direction, and his last volley went wide. That was the opening I needed. I twisted the control sticks hard, twisting Perses’ torso toward the enemy ‘Mech, and fired. The Enforcer's exposed side was hit with a barrage from my weapons, the force of the blast propelling it sideways. Its pilot tried to compensate for the sudden shift in balance but ended up stumbling over a frozen outcrop instead. Before I could push through the pain in my side and the blurry headspace I was feeling due to the blood thinners, though, the Enforcer's pilot fired the ‘Mech's jump jets. The next thing I knew, the Enforcer was airborne, and a hailstorm of bullets and energy was pounding down on my Orion. I tried to maneuver away, even tipping Perses’ torso up to try to get a shooting solution, but then… “Shit! Rebus! It's a Death from Above!” “Bail out, Junaid, bail out!” I screamed, now in full panic mode. The last thing I saw was Idris in his power armor, launching off Perses' shoulder and into the swirling snow just as the Enforcer came crashing down. With a thunderous impact, the enemy ‘Mech landed on top of Perses. The impact was like an earthquake, throwing me violently into my harness. My vision blurred further, blood roared in my ears, and as both ‘Mechs crashed into the icy tundra, the searing pain from my broken bones reduced my senses to a swirl of bright lights and garbled-sounding sirens. “Fuck…” I moaned, fighting through the haze to stand Perses back up. “Juniad to Rebus, are you alright?” Idris radioed, panic in his voice. “Been better.” I replied. Suddenly, a dull thud vibrated through the hull of my Orion, followed by another and another. Perses began to falter, unable to rise under the impacts. “He's trying to beat you to death!” Idris warned. "Like hell he is!" I snarled back, fighting hard against the controls to get Perses onto its feet. With a surge of adrenaline-fueled determination, I yanked hard on the controls, getting Perses fully upright. The Enforcer kept raining down blows that felt like hammer strikes. The damage alerts were shrieking now, flashing warnings about armor breaches. Once my Orion was on its feet, I reversed hard, hoping to put enough space between us to regain some control over the situation. The external camera that tracked Idris showed him standing a short distance away, waiting helplessly for us to reclaim the upper hand. The Enforcer had other plans. Like an enraged animal, it barreled toward me with raw power, all of its weapons spitting fire. Then, with another impact that nearly made me black out, it slammed into Perses, the enemy pilot leaving his throttle wide open to ensure that both ‘Mechs remained tangled together. As he used his machine's massive gun arms to land hit after hit on my Orion, my vision began to darken around the edges, my body overcome with pain and shutting down from lack of oxygen. “No…” I whispered to myself, clenching my teeth. “Junaid…need help.” What happened next felt like watching some improbable superhero movie, the whole thing playing out on my cockpit monitors like a slow-motion, drug-induced dream sequence. After only a moment's hesitation, Idris, small and insignificant against the hulking BattleMechs, sprinted forward, his power-armored form almost lost in the increasing snow. The camera followed him as he neared the Enforcer and fired the jump infantry pack we'd slotted onto his ICE-S exoskeleton for this mission. The next thing I knew, he'd landed awkwardly on top of the Enforcer’s chassis, though, due to the situation, it was more of a crash that nearly sent him flying off the other side. But, somehow, Idris managed to cling on, his gauntlets finding purchase on the ‘Mech’s armor plates as his boots skidded against the slick surface. As the Enforcer continued its assault and I attempted to fend it off in a drunken haze, Idris forged ahead to the top of the enemy pilot’s cockpit and placed…something…against its access hatch. A split second later, Idris was taking cover as a massive, shaped blast sent the entire hatch assembly spinning off into the blizzard, causing the Enforcer to stagger back in surprise. Idris ran back toward where the hatch had been and pulled out a grenade. I was so close to the Enforcer that I could see the enemy pilot, confused and disoriented by the sudden intrusion, reaching for his sidearm. But Idris was faster. A flash of movement, and the Enforcer’s cockpit was engulfed from within by a bright orange fireball. Idris leaped away, his parafoil deploying and carrying him away from the explosion. There was a brief, glorious moment when the Enforcer stood, frozen and silent, in the midst of a swirling snowstorm. Then, with a final convulsion, the machine fell to the ground like a marionette with its strings cut. “Tango down.” Idris’ voice crackled with a hint of exhaustion. “Enforcer eliminated.” “Thank you, Juniad.” I sighed, bringing Perses to a halt and leaning back in my cockpit seat as I tried to steady my breathing. "That was something else." "Anytime, sir. Coming back up now." As I tried to take in controlled breaths, I felt a stabbing feeling in my lungs. That broken rib was making itself known again. Suddenly, as though she could read my mind, Curie’s voice crackled in my headset. “Rebus. You require medical attention.” This time, it wasn’t a question. “Yes.” I sighed. “But we gotta keep moving. We can’t stop the whole damn convoy just to bring you over.” As Idris acknowledged that he was back aboard, I pushed the throttle forward, and Perses started to lumber through the blizzard. Pain radiated from my side with each step. “You require medical attention.” Curie argued. "Your vitals…not within acceptable parameters." "I know." I winced. "But we can't afford to halt our progress. Not now."
    4 points
  9. MEANWHILE… AFTER the Drop, we had got up to the war place but the war had not started which was good on account of Wicked was super pissed that I had got there First and I needed time to defend my Dignity, after Wicked had got done saying a bunch of swears at me I got on my radio and I tried to say “HEY look Private which is lower than Sergeant I cant help if Im a good Pilot” but for some reason when I had did that my radio just went BOOP. “What the shit??” I Yelled, then I reached over and did the tuning dial, then I tried again. “HEY look Private…” BOOP Then I started hearing Commercials coming out of the radio, “TOILETIZE YOUR LIFE WITH THE NEW FLUSHFORCE 6000 XLT TURBO FOR WHEN THE GOING GETS HOT AND YOU CANT HOLD IT ANYMORE.” “The shit??” I hollered as I tried to tune it again. BOOP “DO YOU NEED BAIL BONDS??” The radio blared “CALL LANNIS BAIL BONDS IT WAS GOOD ENOUGLY FOR ME LANNIS THE 3RD” “What the shit is this shit?” I said as I was trying to Watch my radar and tune the damn radio. I had to say things back to Wicked but all I was getting were TV stations!! It must of been due to the Jamming! So I ripped the knob all the way to the right and I tried again. “Hey Wicked!!!” BOOP went the radio, then I heard the most unbelievable thing, Porn music and “Oooooh ahhhhh unnnnh uhhhh sex me up baby sex me up” and I heard noises like a Bed about to fall apart, “DO ME WITH SEX!!” “What The shit?!?” Then I Twisted the knob again and this time I heard. “THE REALIST NEWS IS BACK AND WERE HERE TO TELL YOU THE HARSH TRUTHS OF THOSE MADDENING SOLDIER BUGS WHO STOLE YOUR JOBS!” “DAMMIT!” I yelled as I smacked the radio. “Okay HAGAKURE 2, we gotta do this the old fashion way.” and I started to get out the Semaphore Flags but then all of the sudden a huge alarm went off, WOOP WOOP WOOP and then the Computer intoned WARNING WARNING COMBAT INITIATINGED WE HAVE INCOMING ENEMIES and then I heard CPT Maxwell and CDR Jaeger hollering “FIRE AT WILL” and I looked and a VULCAN was right there I mean RIGHT THERE, he cut loose with his autocannon and laser and machine gun and I thought “Well I guess we're doing this!” So I slammed down on the go faster handle and turned HAGAKURE to face the Vulcan. “Eat toilet, asshole!!” I yelled as I fired my Small Laser, Medium Laser, and both of my Large Laser Cannons at him. Then HAGAKURE 2 Jerked forward toward the Vulcan and a bunch of leftovers from my 5 minute puke steak and egg breakfast combo special meal with large Dr Peach FIESTA and the spilled milk from the milk machine was launched all up against the inside of the windshield in my cockpit, which was gross. “Gah, I'm gonna throat punch whoever designed this thing!” I Yelled as I wiped the puke from my view screens. Then I saw that HAGAKURE 2 had smashed into the Vulcan and now the Vulcan was spraying lava at me with its flamer!!! “YOU SON OF A BITCH!” I Yelled, then I put HAGAKURE 2 into reverse, as the backup beeper came on I BLASTED the Vulcan with all of my lasers which blew a bunch of parts off his mech that went spinning off into the snow, then he hit me again with all of his guns, and HAGAKURE 2 staggered back, and I yelled “Ow, Damn it” as my cockpit shook. “Last time I let Ironass service my Gyros.” I put HAGAKURE 2 into Drive and did a alpha strike with all my lasers right into one of the Vulcans arms, the arm flew off, and I did a side step as he sprayed my other windshield with his autocannon. WOOP WOOP WOOP Went my War Computer OVERHEAT OVERHEAT “I freakin know!!!” I yelled back at my War computer as I pressed the emergency cooling vent button, which blew freezing air everywhere, along with the puke smell and singed electronics smell, I ended up with a light case of gagosis. Then I remembered I could still make HAGAKURE 2 do Martial Arts against the Vulcan with its big claws. Then I drove into melee range and grabbed the Vulcan's other arm, the one with the flamer, in HAGAKURE 2's claw. It was still lavaing everywhere, well, it was, but then I twisted its arm off and threw it at the Vulcan's cockpit and the Vulcan fell over, then exploded as its ammo blew out. I used HAGAKURE 2's other claw, and smashed the Vulcan's cockpit, hard on account of I had to be sure it wasn't coming Back. I saw a bunch of Gore and Steam spray out so I was pretty sure I had got the bad guy. “WOOT! One Vulcan down!” I hollered on the radio “And HAGAKURE 2 needs a wash!!”
    4 points
  10. Somewhere in the Arctic Tundra North of Bascombe, Concord II Concord system - Free Worlds League May 27, 3031 (Friday) ______________________________________________ “Shit! Radar! Keep on them! Make sure they can’t get outside the ECM field!” I shouted into my headset as I watched the Guillotine, Enforcer, Ostroc, and Vulcan steadily pulling away from my ponderously slow King Crab. “Roger; I’m on them,” Alyssa’s voice replied, the sound of her Raven’s frantic footfalls clearly audible over the channel. I could almost visualize her eyes darting between multiple screens, fingers flying over the controls as she kept the enemy firmly within our electronic umbrella. “If they keep spreading out, though, I might not be able to keep them all contained.” An abrupt series of six explosions, accompanied by the unmistakable warble of laser fire suddenly rocked Ares’ cockpit as the Guillotine pivoted its torso back toward us and unloaded everything it had into my King Crab. Curie cried out in surprise, and as I glanced in the rear-view camera, I could see her braced against her seat, her body rigid with fear. “We’ll be alright!” I shouted to her. “Just keep an eye on that weather.” I leveled Ares’ twin AC/20s on the Guillotine, trying to get a shooting solution on one of its legs. If I could slow the war machine down a bit, I’d have a much better chance of cornering it. My finger poised over the trigger as the enemy ‘Mech’s pilot, apparently encouraged by the solid Alpha strike he’d landed on us, steered the Guillotine into a slight left turn to attempt another pass while continuing to flee. He had no idea of the storm he was about to bring on himself. "Hang on, Curie!" I roared, not waiting for her confirmation before I let loose a barrage of fire. The cockpit shuddered violently as the massive autocannon rounds tore through the icy wind. One round flew wide and plowed violently into the frozen tundra, sending up a towering white geyser. The other, however, found its mark, slamming into the Guillotine's left hip actuator. Its armor buckled and peeled away in the face of the onslaught, sending shards of metal spraying into the air. The enemy 'Mech stumbled, its movement slowing abruptly as the damaged leg dragged in the deep snow. "Gotcha!" I exclaimed, hammering the throttle forward. Ares lurched forward, running full-tilt toward the faltering enemy 'Mech. I couldn't let up now. I had to press the advantage. As Ares closed the distance, I could see the Guillotine's pilot struggling to regain balance. His machine gyrated wildly, its left leg flailing limply. For a moment, I felt a pang of pity. That moment was short-lived, however, as the Guillotine found its footing again and replied to my attack with a blast of heavy laser fire. The coherent energy raked across Ares’ thick armor, scattering superheated shards of ferrosteel across the arctic landscape. I grimaced and responded in kind, my pulse lasers searing through the snow-speckled air. The brilliant beams lanced into the left arm of the Guillotine, melting through layers of armor and rupturing internal components. I didn’t let up, locking on the LRM-10 launcher and unleashing a volley of missiles. Ares lurched as the projectiles launched from their tubes. The Guillotine, now off-balance and in clear distress, pivoted to face me but registered the incoming projectiles too late. The missiles exploded against its torso, blossoms of flame and molten metal erupting from the impact points. Its pilot retorted, wildly firing off his medium lasers in response. A flurry of green bolts hissed past my canopy. A bombardment of SRM-6 impacts followed, rocking Ares as the short-range missiles found their mark. The Guillotine's pilot was desperate, but he wasn't going down easy. "All units!" Curie suddenly exclaimed over the all-call comm channel, "Low-pressure front closing. The storm wall. Visibility…will decrease.” Shit, I thought as I raked the Guillotine with pulse laser fire. These guys are running from us while we’re running from a Blake-damned snowstorm. It was crucial for us to end this battle before the scouting team could slip away into the oncoming maelstrom. “Well, that’s fucking dandy,” Whitley’s voice snarled in reply. “How long we got, weather girl?” "Eight…maybe ten minutes," Curie replied, ignoring the condescending nickname. Her voice was laced with concern and frustration. “And you’re just now telling us?” Jack growled. "Conditions…change…fast!" Curie spat back, her tone sharp for once. Above us, the sky continued to darken ominously, the approaching storm high on the horizon. “Focus on your job, Wicked,” I interrupted, my voice packed with annoyance. "Keep the chatter to a minimum.” As I continued to brawl with the Guillotine, I abruptly saw it stagger sideways on its damaged leg, its laser fire going wide. This was my opportunity. I again leveled Ares’ AC/20s on the limb and fired. An incredible explosion ripped through the freezing air as the Guillotine's leg evaporated into a cloud of molten metal and shattered armor. The enemy 'Mech teetered for a moment before collapsing onto its side, thrashing helplessly in the snow. Its cockpit was still intact, defenseless against the oncoming storm and my King Crab. Usually, I would have disengaged at that point and let the defeated pilot suffer in shame. However, I couldn't take the chance that he might still alert his main force as soon as we were out of jamming range. I knew I had to finish the job. Drawing close to the Guillotine, I fired a final time. The powerful thud of the King Crab's twin autocannons discharging at point-blank range was more vibration than sound. However, their impact with the fallen BattleMech’s cockpit was devastatingly explosive. The Guillotine's cockpit disintegrated in a shower of sparks and burning fragments, scattering in the white snowscape. Silence hung in our own cockpit for a few seconds before it was broken by a gasp from Curie. As I steered Ares away from the carnage, I glanced in the rear-view to see a mixed expression of confusion and disapproval on her face. "Did…had to?" she stammered, her speech clumsier than usual in the shock of the moment. "Yes," I responded tersely, keeping my reactions subdued. I knew what she was thinking, even if she wasn't saying it. Looking forward once again, I keyed the comm unit. “Eden to all units: the Guillotine’s finished. Searching for targets of opportunity.”
    4 points
  11. Somewhere in the Artic Tundra North of Bascombe, Concord II Concord system - Free Worlds League May 27, 3031 (Friday) ______________________________________________ The weather 'cleared up', if you could call it that, shortly after all deployed members of Aegis Division were able to regroup, and by 'cleared up' I meant that it was no longer near whiteout conditions with gale force winds strong enough to blow even a 'mech around. Instead, it was still frigidly cold, an actual boon to my all energy 'mech with the improvement to heat sink efficiency, now with winds merely strong enough to slightly rock a 'mech and whip up the occasional blinding sheet of snow and ice on top of the still falling snow that made it difficult to see past somewhere around 100m (328') or roughly 6 seconds ahead if I was travelling at my 'mech's maximum run speed of 64.8km/h. Since Captain Maxwell's King Crab was the slowest 'mech in our deployment, and since we still were hoping for a surprise attack against Trinity's Onyx Vagabonds at the HPG station, we were instead travelling at a considerably more leisurely pace of 32.4km/h meaning we could see about 10 seconds ahead and that gave us some modicum of warning in case of random rocks, cliffs, or a ravine suddenly appearing in our path, all of which had happened thus far on our relatively short travel. With Alyssa's Raven accompanying us we had the benefit of her advanced ECM suite being able to mask our signature which meant it wasn't likely we couldn't be spotted, electronically, without us picking up the spotter first, and anyone attempting to find us visually would be facing the same problems we were which at least kept us on an even footing. Charles had our 8 'mechs spread out in a rough hexagon pattern with his King Crab and Alyssa's Raven in the middle, Alyssa to provide the optimal ECM coverage for everyone and himself to allow immediate response to a threat in any direction while also providing an extra layer of protection for his ride-along charge. My Black Knight was on point with Nick's Orion and Marius' Marauder on the left and right respectively, presenting a formidable frontline towards any hostiles we may encounter, while Blackwood's Catapult brought up the rear with Jenkin's Crab and Whitley's Merlin filling in the back left and right corners of the hexagon formation. Idris had hitched a ride aboard Nick's Orion in his ICE-S as the 'mech's large shoulder-mounted LRM-15 provided a stable platform for him to latch onto and he could reposition on or disengage from the 'mech with virtually no interference to its operation, whether in combat or not. "I have telemetry," Curie's voice cut across the comms, utilizing Maxwell's command channel to talk to both lances at once. I waited, half expecting to hear more but also unsurprised by the extended silence that followed, although Curie's motor skills, vocabulary, and general interactions had improved greatly since she had first turned up on Site 187's doorstep several months ago she still had seemed to have developed a preference for short, succinct sentences. I knew that extended conversations were still taxing for her but I suspected she was likely capable of more than she let on and I couldn't help but wonder if she purposefully chose to be terse or if being concise was simply a natural habit given her very logical thinking and complex background. "Do tell, weather girl," prompted Jack after he could stand the silence no longer, his words unusually civil although his tone was still its far less than gallant self. Another period of silence followed where it wasn't clear if Curie was intentionally making Jack wait, as the two had developed even further animosity since their incident aboard the Sturmfänger a few days ago, or if she was having some sort of conversation with Maxwell off-mic. Finally her clear voice once again punctuated the airways, "Receiving data from Command Van and satellites. Telemetry." This time the silence following was clearly intentional and I swore I heard someone stifle a snort just before the audio cut out. A moment or two passed, just long enough to drive Whitley right up the wall before the command channel cut back in, seemingly perfectly timed to override Jack's response as I noted he had cued the radio milliseconds before the command channel forced him out. "Weather suspicions confirmed, storm is incoming, this was just the start," intoned Curie with confidence. A moment later, with the command channel still queued, Charles spoke up, "You heard her, what we just came through getting down here was just a taste of what's to come. We're in a momentary clear zone on the radar, Archangel confirmed it's coming in waves and we don't want to be out here when the main body hits. Let's pick up the pace people, HPG station is at bearing 2-8-7, adjust heading and maintain formation." A couple minutes later ... Our 'mechs ploughed through the building snow at a stable pace, the drifts steadily getting deeper, inch by growing inch, as the snow continued to fall and the wind blew in regular gusts. I started getting what seemed like phantom contacts on my radar, brief moments of some kind of signature that just as quickly disappeared, I couldn't tell if it was some kind of interference from the approaching storm or if there really was something out there that was somehow partially hiding from my 'mech's sensors. "Radar, I'm picking up scattered readings ahead, are your sensors showing the same?" I inquired. "I had a couple unknown signals show up and disappear Bastion, but nothing concrete, not even an attempted ID. Too short to even confirm what class of signal it might have been," Alyssa replied. "Any chance your sensors could pull more data if they show up again?" I asked, already suspecting the answer. "Negative, not unless you want me to drop the ECM coverage," answered Alyssa, her tone giving me the impression she was shaking her head, "Eden, what's your thoughts?" "Let's keep the ECM up for now, I want to keep our element of surprise as long as possible," said Charles. "Copy that." The signals returned a short while later, this time long enough to resolve into 4 unknown contacts, no ID, no identification of their source, just that there was something either large enough or powerful enough out there to show up on my sensors. I cycled through my available sensors to try and narrow down their potential source; magnetic anomaly readouts showed a contact that could be within typical 'mech ranges but didn't have the fidelity to separate the individual contacts and could be disrupted by local heavy metal deposits. Radar showed intermittent signals but the heavy snow, and likely the terrain too, prevented any detail beyond the general location of 3 to 4 individual contacts. Thermal imaging couldn't get a read past all the falling snow, at least not at this distance, and any intervening terrain would have complicated things as well, and visual tracking was similarly limited. The distance was too far for seismic sensors to pick anything up which left me with a little more than a strong suspicion that there were possibly 4 enemy units somewhere ahead of us. Suddenly a dark shape loomed in up behind the falling snow before resolving into a heavily creviced cliffside cutting directly into our path. Slowing down slightly I readjusted my trajectory and radioed to the rest of the unit to maintain coherency. "Bastion to all units, got a large cliff ahead of us. Readjusting to bearing 2-8-0 to circumvent. Right flank, you'll need to close up while we reposition." Acknowledgements came across the comms as our group moved nearly as one to get around the unexpected obstacle and almost as quickly as the cliff had come up it began to taper off, I noted the signals had once again disappeared and some part of my mind registered that these cliffs could cause the exact type of intermittent signals and interference we had been experiencing. Just as we began to pass around the cliff base my radar screen lit up with four solid contacts and the Battle Computer screamed alerts at me as suddenly every available sensor got a solid read on an entire enemy lance of 'mechs. "Contact!" I announced on the comms as I swiveled the Black Knight's torso in the direction of the signals. There, just barely visible in the blowing and falling snow, roughly 150m or so ahead and just off to our right was 4 enemy 'mechs plodding along seemingly unwittingly into our path. At the front was a Vulcan, a VL-2T, the 40 ton anti-infantry 'mech was heavily outmatched by any single 'mech in our group, even Alyssa's Raven, but its lancemates behind it presented a more formidable set of foes. A 50 ton Enforcer, the ENF-4R according to my T&T systems, followed behind and slightly closer to us from the Vulcan, with the enemy lance appearing to be in a left echelon formation. Following suit, behind and to the left of the Enforcer came a GLT-4L Guillotine with an OSR-2C Ostroc bringing up the enemy's rear. Each enemy 'mech was roughly the same distance from us just because of the angles but they were steadily getting closer as they headed roughly southwest, coming down the gentle slope of the cliff we had just come around. The enemy finally spotted us as the Enforcer suddenly came to a stop, causing what would have been a comical pile up as the Guillotine and Ostroc continued on for a few more steps and had to maneuver sharply to avoid running into each other, despite their apparent offset from the echelon formation. The Vulcan on the other hand continued on apparently oblivious until on of the others must have radioed them and the 'mech suddenly swiveled quickly to face us and ground to a halt mid stride. All four 'mechs stood facing towards our numerically superior group for what felt like an extended period but was really less than a second or two before all four pivoted in random directions and made to split apart. I could only imagine their confusion and concern at the sudden appearance of our force, Alyssa's ECM clearly doing its job, although I doubted them scattering was due to confusion. "Fire at will!" ordered Maxwell, his words punctuated by the launch of 15 missiles streaking forth from his King Crab still within our hexagon formation. "Jamming comms!" reported Alyssa, anticipating that the enemy would likely try to report our discovery to their main force. Pushing my throttle to full I swung my reticle over the Ostroc as I noted Charles' missiles exploding around the Guillotine, the Black Knight's battle computer calculated all the necessary details to bring its formidable arsenal to bear against the 'mech that was now effectively charging straight at me. Unleashing the PPC and both large lasers I watched as the charged particle beam carved an angry line through the enemy's center torso, melting over half a ton of armour to slag in mere seconds, one of the large lasers missed low while the second bored hole into the Ostroc's right knee with a direct hit melting another half ton of armour into molten rivulets of slag. Firing both of their large lasers in retaliation the Ostroc pilot quickly pivoted to bring the 'mech into a wide circle that would leave them heading west, away from our group, and quickly began accelerating the surprisingly fast heavy 'mech up to its top speed of 86.4km/h, clearly intending to outrun us. The twin azure beams they fired went mostly wide with one of beams grazing my Black Knight's left shoulder and leaving an angry red scar across the armour plating. "They're running!" announced Marius, the static interference of PPC discharges crackling in the background. All four of the enemy 'mech's, now positively identified as being members of Trinity's Onyx Vagabonds, the mercenary group we were here to fight, quickly disengaged as best they could and turned tail to run west back towards the HPG station. It seemed they had been out on patrol and blindly stumbled upon us but now with Alyssa's jamming of their comms and our superior numbers and weight-class of 'mechs their only chance was to retreat and hopefully get outside of Alyssa's jamming range so they could report back to the remaining two lances of 'mechs that were presumably stationed at the HPG itself. We obviously didn't want to let that happen and set off in pursuit of the enemy 'mechs, streaks of missiles, beams of energy, and the staccato of ballistic fire echoed from our 'mechs as we attempted to run them down. Eerily the wind suddenly dropped off and the walls of falling snow lightened up enough for our sight lines to extend sufficiently enough that we could track our opponents as we raced each other towards the HPG station, our superior firepower power fighting against their superior speed.
    4 points
  12. Concord II Concord system - Free Worlds League May 27, 3031 (Friday) ______________________________________________ My Orion hit the ground with incredible force, much worse than I was expecting since, even though the drop had been turbulent and anything but a smooth ride down, I had managed to brace myself in the cockpit. But I wasn’t used to landing a 75-ton BattleMech. The Orion was the largest thing I had ever piloted, and there was only so much that parachutes could do before they, and the machine they were attached to, reached the ground, and you had to take over. I’d definitely stuck the landing, and now, the Orion was reeling drunkenly, threatening to crash over. The inside of the cockpit was bathed in red warning lights as I wrestled with the controls to regain stability. As I fought to keep the ‘Mech standing, I suddenly felt a horrible pain in my side as one of its erratic movements slammed my ribcage against the pilot’s seat. I powered through it, focusing completely on the task at hand. I yanked the controls to the right, just in time to counteract a particularly strong gust of wind. The Orion steadied out, its balance and mine finally equalizing. I took a minute to breathe, listening to my comm unit as the other members of Aegis Division experienced their own versions of the descent and planetfall. But the sharp stabbing feeling on my side never went away. I looked down to see blood oozing from my athletic t-shirt, staining the black fabric a dark crimson. I shifted in my seat and grunted in reaction to the surprising amount of pain. I pulled my shirt up a little to gauge the extent of the damage, seeing that I’d obviously collided with some sharp edge of my chair at just the right angle, but luckily, there were no bones poking out. But, once I poked at it, I realized that it felt like a broken rib. Fuck. Just what I need on top of everything else. The nanites will get it, though. I thought to myself. But then, I remembered. They were offline to prevent them from replicating so much that they clogged my arteries and caused me to stroke out, or worse, die of a fucking heart attack while still in the cockpit of my 'Mech. "God damn it." I grimaced. Breathing hurt, but I pushed past it. There was no choice but to proceed. Falling apart now wouldn't do anyone any good. As Steve radioed in with an especially wild-sounding landing, I reached for a small med kit stashed near the bottom of my control console. Its contents weren’t very fancy or advanced, but it was all I had. And all I needed right now was the roll of athletic bandage. Once I had it, I unwound the roll with my teeth. Then, I pressed the dressing against my side with a wince, wrapping it tight around my torso. The pain was sharp, but bearable, and after a few minutes I felt steady enough to grab the controls again. But just then, the last voice I wanted to hear crackled in my headset. "Corporal Schuster. Your vitals spiked." It was Curie's voice. I had forgotten she was monitoring my medipack from Captain Maxwell’s ‘Mech. “Yeah.” I played it off nonchalantly, knowing full well that I was caught. "Just a slight mishap when I landed. Nothing to worry about." Her pause said she wasn't buying it, and I cringed. “Nick. Don't lie.” she responded. Her tone was gentle, but firm. “Alright, Curie.” I admitted. "You got me. Cracked a rib or two during the landing. But I'm fine." "You are hurt. You require…medical attention." she said with obvious worry. I grunted again as I pulled my compression t-shirt back down. “I appreciate it, but I am not gonna ask you to have Captain Maxwell pull his ‘Mech over for this. You know what the best thing you can do to help me right now is?” I asked. “Repair your injury?” she responded. I had to laugh at that, even if it was grimly. “No. Don’t tell Levi. Or Captain Maxwell. I don’t want to end up giving my boyfriend, who already has enough to deal with, a heart attack, or getting benched for this mission by the Captain. I need to be useful, not a liability. You get that, right?" There was a long pause before she answered. "I…do not…lie." “I’m not asking you to lie, Curie. Just…” I sighed, running a hand over my face. “Just don’t mention it unless it becomes an issue that affects the mission.” There was a longer pause this time, and I really thought she was gonna refuse. Instead, what I heard surprised me. "Understood." It was blunt and robotic. I could almost see her nodding with deep disapproval but agreeing to my request all the same. "I'll…keep an eye on it.” I promised. “OK.” she answered back, then disconnected. Just then, Jack Whitley cut into the general comms, saying some asshole thing to Steve. A couple seconds later, Captain Maxwell himself came on the line, looking for me. “Alright, that’s everyone except Rebus. Rebus, advise status.” "Rebus on the ground and ready to rally, Captain." I replied, trying to keep the pain out of my tone. There was an awkward pause from the other end before the Captain's rough voice cut through again, and I had to wonder if he’d heard any part of the conversation I had just finished with Curie. "Alright, get up to the regroup zone safe but as quick as you can.” he finally said. He sounded like he was filled with concern. I hoped it was concern for the mission and not me. I wasn't sure if that made it better or worse. "Understood, Captain." I acknowledged. I pushed the throttle of the Orion forward, the machine responding to my command with a surge of raw power. In short order, I’d found the rest of the group, and was in formation, ready for whatever the enemy forces, and the weather, threw at us.
    4 points
  13. MEANWHILE… The Drop Crane finished cycling and the green lights on my controls turned on. “COME ON COME ON COME ON GUYS ITS TIME FOR THE WAR TO START!!!” Then I honked my Crab’s horn a bunch of times to show I was Serious, “Knock it off Steve” came CPT Maxwell’s voice on the radio, “I have enough problems without you honking all the time” “Yes sir sorry sir” I said back, then I started to say “I was just excited” but right then the big robot arm picked up my Mech and EJECTED it out the side door of the dropship which made me yell so it sounded more like “I was just AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHOHMYGODTHISISWORSETHANTHEHUMMER” I felt like I had been kicked in the pants and I was tumbling ass over tits through the air, which sucked on account of thats not how you’re supposed to fall out of a dropship in a BattleMech, the g-force pulling on my brains was like when Mikey tried to do a backflip off the roof of our farm house back on Kuuzu and bounced, then all of the huge wind from the snow storm started spinning my Mech around in all of the directions and I couldnt see anything, “Detected G-LOC warning level three” my Mech computer hollered, “G-forces are making you go stupid, convert to emergency piloting mode” “NO DONT YOU DARE” I yelled at it as I reached out and I slapped some buttons, “I HAVE THIS UNDER CONTROL! THIS IS MY FREAKIN MISSION I AM GONNA DO IT MYSELF!” “BLOWING OFF CERAMIC SHELL” it intoned and then I heard a huge KABAM and then the mech flipped some more, I had been really trying to be brave and not puke but now my stomach was too Sundered, I was so dizzy I puked everywhere, which in a spinning cockpit means, all up inside the windshield of my helmet, then the g-force spinning took my puke and flung it all over the inside of my cockpit like racing Stripes, which isnt HALF as funny as it sounds. Just then I looked outside and I saw a HUGE wall of Fire on the outside windshield of my mech, I turned on the windshield wipers to try to get rid of it but all that happened was they tangled up in the Cocoon fabric and that made them whip fire everywhere, “STOP IT” I yelled and I reached out to slap the wipers off but my hand missed and turned them on hyper fast instead which melted my right wiper clean off the Mech. “ARRRRGH!!” I yelled, “HOW DOES THIS CRAP HAPPEN TO ME?” “DEPLOYING EMERGENCY CHUTES” the mech Computer said and then WHUMP, the parachutes deploded and my Crab slowed down a lot and I stopped spinning around like a top which was good because I was pretty sure I had ran out of Vomit, “HELL YEAH!” I yelled, “I DID IT I DID IT, I” and then a HUGE gust of wind hit me the other way and RIPPED one of the chutes off and now I was spinning AGAIN through the air while screaming bloody murder “STEVE STEVE YOU GOTTA LAND THIS MECH” Alyssa said in my radio, I could have sworn she was laughing but that was probably the poisonous gases seeping into my cockpit on account of now I had did a Terror fart and oh my the smell was not good. “I'm TRYING Dammit!” I said as I fought with the steering wheel, that wasnt going to do much on account of the parachutes malfunctioning, Alyssa said something else but I couldn't hear her over the wind screaming past my mech “WHAT?” I yelled, then as the ground came up at me I prayed to the mech gods and any one else who was paying attention, “SAVE ME MASTER HONDA!!” I yelled and then my Crab SLAMMED into the snow at like 50 Miles per hour but thankfully it was SNOW so I didn't die. But my mech was in a ditch and my forward Windshield was cracked and it looked like the left arm was banged up pretty bad, also the milk machine behind me was milking everywhere, “MILK EVERYWHERE!” I yelled in horror and then my mech fell over onto its back. "Green Lance, this is Bastion" I heard CDR Jaeger intone in my radio, "I've landed off course, approximately 3km SE of our drop zone. All systems nominal. What's your status?" "Dionysus is gonna be sick," I Said, then I vomited more beefo-macaroni-vodka explosion inside my helmet. Then I made my Crab stand back up. "Mech's good to go though sir, I'll be right as rain soon enough. I'm somewhere to the North…I think, unless I'm reading this upside down." "Fucking amateurs," said Jack, "I'm within 1 klick of the drop zone, surprisingly this scrap metal heap you call a 'mech survived the landing. I'll be waiting for your slow asses at the drop zone." THEN I realized the map had got flipped upside down when I crashed, it must have hit SO hard that it turned all the computery parts over, I turned it around and then I Said "Haha, I've got it now, Guess what Wicked, I'm closest to you, AND we're both tied for distance from the drop zone. Guess we both win, see you soon buddy." "F***'s sake, Blake save me," Jack said into the intercom but not on mute. I put my Crab in drive and I headed in the right direction, then I heard Captain Maxwell call me and he said “SGT JENKINS SAY YOUR STATUS” and I Said back "Cap'n! Did you have as much fun as I did? I think one time I was UPSIDE DOWN!” Then for some reason I heard a bunch of barfing in his background Noises and he said “Yeah, Dionysius” and then went to tell other Things to CDR Orlex so I decided to put on some Tunes and drive to the landing zone, my Crab banged across the war field until I was there. "HEY JACK, I'm here FIRST!” I Yelled, then I put my Crab in Park and decided to pour all the barf out of my helmet while I waited for the War to start.
    4 points
  14. Concord II Concord system - Free Worlds League May 27, 3031 (Friday) ______________________________________________ The King Crab’s feet hit the snowy tundra with incredible force, shaking the earth beneath me and sending shards of ice skittering across the frozen landscape. It had been a hell of a drop, hotter than a firecracker in an oven. And here we were, smack dab in the middle of nowhere, blown off course by a squall as unrelenting as a rabid dog. The heavy snow crunched under the weight of my 'Mech, the mechanical sound of each step drowned out by the howling winds. Inside the cockpit, the voices of the rest of the lance, who had, somehow, despite all odds, not been meaningfully blown off their drop targets, crackled over the comms. Steve’s sitrep, as always, was quite colorful. However, in the rumble seat behind me, Curie was having a less-than-stellar time. A quiet, almost apologetic gag punctuated the howling wind coming from outside the ‘Mech. "Sorry," she mumbled. Her voice, usually so strong and authoritative, was reduced to a faint echo of its resolute self. “Airsick.” Against my better judgment, I quickly checked my sensor plotter, and then released the King Crab’s controls. Removing my neurohelmet, I rose from my chair, turning around to discover that Curie had cast aside her own head protection, her eyes bloodshot and weary. She looked like hell. “Are you…alright?” She dismissively waved my concern off, her face paler than the blinding whiteout obscuring our view. With a shuddering breath, she managed to respond, “I’m fine,” before looking back down into the airsickness bag she’d somehow had the foresight to include in her medical kit. I wasn't quite convinced, but I also wasn't about to argue with her. Something told me that wouldn't go over too well, particularly in her current state. “Alright then,” I replied. “Hang tight, I’m gonna get us linked up with the lance.” Curie nodded weakly, gripping the sides of her seat as if her life depended on it. Re-seating myself and sliding the neurohelmet back on, I rolled through Aegis Division’s channels, eventually noting that my radio had a solid contact with Steve. His voice, chipper as always, greeted me with an enthusiastic, "Cap'n! Did you have as much fun as I did? I think one time I was UPSIDE DOWN!" "Yeah, Dionysius," I grumbled back, shaking my head, the King Crab inadvertently mirroring my action, swinging its enormous torso from side to side. Curie gave a small cry that held a combination of criticism and plea for mercy. I quickly steadied the ‘Mech, apologizing quietly. "Break. Eden to Bastion,” I continued, attempting to raise Commander Jaeger on the radio. “Requesting coordinates for rendezvous." The radio crackled before Orlex's voice came through, strained but steadier than I'd expected given the situation. "Bastion to Eden. Good to hear your voice, Captain. We're at grid B7, just south of your current position. Pretty sure we’ve got everyone linking up. Some further than others. Those of us who are here are dug in and holding position, waiting on stragglers." I nodded. “Roger that. Sturmfänger’s beaming your position to me. We’re on the way.” The loud rev of Ares’ servos echoed through the cabin as the ‘Mech began its march southward. The snow was falling thick now, obscuring our view and coating the hundred tons of war machine in fine white dust. “How you doing back there, kiddo?” I called back to Curie, offering her a platitude that I’d picked up from Mallory. As I glanced at the side of my neurohelmet’s glass, the inset rear-view camera revealed a pale figure still clutching the sides of her seat in a death grip, but her eyes were alight with determination shining through the nausea. “Getting…better," she offered, throwing me an uncharacteristic and shaky thumbs-up belying the paleness of her face. "You keep holding on," I encouraged. "Almost there." I had hoped that'd be the end of our talk for the time being, what with how green around the gills she was looking. But Curie surprised me again. I abruptly felt a trembling hand pat my shoulder. “Good…driving,” she stated. “Oh, god! You gotta sit down,” I instinctively replied, wanting to protect her. "You can't be bouncing around back there if we see action." There came no reply, but mercifully, I heard Curie fastening her harness. I drove the King Crab as quickly as I could through the blustery whiteout, hoping to get us there before the storm got worse. Or Curie became even more carsick. Or, Blake forbid, before a bunch of folks with guns and bad intentions realized we were out here alone and decided to unleash on me and my precious cargo. Fortuitously, Orlex’s Black Knight soon came into view, its imposing silhouette cutting a dominant figure against the swirling onslaught of white. Its hulking frame stood with an authority almost unnatural for a machine of its magnitude, somehow standing against the brutal landscape with an ethereal command. I felt a wave of relief wash over me. Just to the left of his ‘Mech stood Alyssa’s Raven, its birdlike form seeming to dance sveltely against the blowing snow, a stark, yet complimentary contrast to the imposing Black Knight. “I’ve got a visual on you,” I radioed to Orlex and Alyssa, guiding the King Crab to a position in the head of the formation. “Forming up.” “Copy that, Eden,” Alyssa’s voice responded, a light mix of friendly antagonism and sultriness in her tone. “Nice of you to join the party.” "Better late than never, eh?" I retorted with a smirk. As I drew the BattleMech to a halt, I twisted around in my seat to look at Curie. "Ready op?" I asked. She cast me a small smile and another thumbs up. "Ready op," she whispered. It was heartwrenching not knowing whether she meant it or if she simply was putting on a brave face, but I knew we had no time to explore the possibilities. I simply responded with my own thumbs-up before turning back forward in my pilot's seat and opening the radio channel once more. “Alright. Let’s do it. Ready op.”
    4 points
  15. MRCN Sturmfänger Approaching Concord II Concord system - Free Worlds League May 27, 3031 (Friday) - 15:45 hours ______________________________________________ I stood before the massive BattleMech I would soon be riding in a several kilometer freefall to a literal winter wonderland of ice and snow, the roughly 12m tall behemoth was bristling with weapons and the hard angles of shaped armour plates forged into a distinctly humanoid form. This wasn't my Merlin however, instead I was assigned the salvaged Black Knight that we had fought on Sheratan during our defense of Gellen's Heights and the political summit that culminated in our rescue of several abducted delegates from the Epsilon Eridani system. In fact it was the very 'mech that I had felled during our battle to hold the perimeter defenses, there was something bittersweet and slightly ironic about it but such was the life of a mercenary and I didn't dwell on it. Also, I wasn't exactly 'assigned' the 'mech per say as I was one of the individuals doing the assigning and merely requested/suggested it to Charles who immediately approved it. The Black Knight would be the heaviest 'mech I had ever piloted into battle, weighing in a full 15 tons heavier than my personal 'mech, a 60-ton Merlin, and 5 tons heavier than the experimental 70-ton Cataphract that had been the heaviest 'mech I'd used in combat previously. The 75-ton 'mech was at the top end of what classified as a Heavy BattleMech and it showed as the Black Knight, specifically a BL-7-KNT variant, carried notably more weapons than my Merlin and nearly doubled its firepower without sacrificing range, accuracy, or armour protection. The two 'mechs also had similar mobility with the same top speed of 64.8km/h, although the Black Knight lacked the Merlin's jump jets, and the all energy loadout of the Black Knight severely taxed its considerable heat sink capacity in comparison to the Merlin's slightly more manageable heat load. The venerable design dated all the way back to the Reunification War when the Star League subjugated the Periphery, although this particular 'mech was centuries newer than that, and had actually been a design I'd had a particular interest in for some time, finally getting the opportunity to get my hands on one, let alone pilot it, had been exciting. Now, standing before the 'mech moments before boarding it for a less than standard orbital insertion, a small part of me wished I was climbing into my familiar Merlin instead. As circumstances would have it however our newest recruit, Jack Whitley, would be piloting my Merlin through the maelstrom of Concord II's atmosphere and then into whatever battle we found, I had little to worry about as the man's 'mech skills were actually almost as good as he boasted, for once, and I knew that 'Bastion' would serve him well. Ending my momentary reverie I climbed aboard the waiting scissor-lift that would bring me up to the Black Knight's cockpit entrance and climbed aboard, taking one last moment to admire the recent paint job on the formidable 'mech's armour, the Aegis Division logo emblazoned boldly across its thigh and shoulder while the teal and silver banded paint scheme provided a strong contrast in the 'mech bays artificial lighting. Transferring into the cockpit of the 75-ton war machine I once again appreciated the fact that the old 'mech had originally been designed as a command 'mech and while most of the advanced electronics from the Star League era had long since been replaced with lower grade models, or were never available in the first place depending on when exactly this machine had been built, the design and space of the cockpit itself was still original. The extra room afforded by the command style cockpit meant there was additional room for storage and other amenities as well as space to actually stretch out my legs should I ever be deployed in the 'mech for an extended period, this also meant there was ample room for a passenger as well should the need arise. Settling into the command chair I fired up the reactor and ran through the usual startup routines, system checks, and ID verification steps to make sure the Battlemech would be fully functional once we reached the surface, the plethora of screens booting up in sequence and providing an incredibly detailed amount of information above and beyond the already intensive amount of data most 'mechs displayed; another perk and potential drawback of the command 'mech design. Readying the 'mech for the orbital drop I fell in line, under the direction of one of the many deck hands, at the rear of our formation and awaiting my turn to get sealed into a drop pod and accompanying cocoon. Standard Inner Sphere practice was to have command elements drop last in an orbital insertion such as this as it was intended to make coordination efforts easier overall, Captain Maxwell however, in typical fashion, eschewed traditional practices and instead insisted on dropping first, leading from the front, and in this particular case, putting the heaviest 'mech we could field on the frontline. As a compromise, of sorts, I would bring up the rear of the formation to assist with coordination if required and in theory allowing us to break into our respective lances with ease. Some time later ... I felt the rough jerk as the drop arms extended my pod out of the cargo bay hold door and into the empty space beyond, as the Sturmfänger had not been designed from the ground up with 'mech deployment in mind, such as say the Leopard or Union classes were, there were no integral drop tubes that could deploy encapsulated 'mechs either directly from their bays or through a dedicated launch system built into the hull. Instead the Sturmfänger, and so many other retrofit dropships, would deploy their payload of drop pods through a retractable system that utilized the standard cargo doors similar to a typical hot drop. Dropping in pairs, and with only a single door to work with, our refit Trojan-class dropship was a little slower to deploy two full lances than the integrated system aboard a Union-class vessel but it was still effective and Blackwood and I were now seconds away from being dropped into the void behind Jenkins and Whitley. With scarcely a moments notice the deceleration of the dropship fell away as our pods were released and we drifted off into the void, the feeling of weightlessness immediately taking over despite our continual acceleration towards the surface of Concord II somewhere below us. Being sealed away inside the drop pod and cocoon though meant that we could see nothing except the readouts of telemetry from the pod itself and whatever information we were fed from the dropship or the rest of the lance. What felt like an extended period of time passed as I stared at graphs and digital plotters, but what in reality was mere seconds, before the pod started to vibrate, the irregular movements growing steadily as the exterior of the pod began contacting Concord II's atmosphere as we plunged ever downwards. The turbulence quickly grew in intensity until it felt like the pod, and my 'mech within, would shake themselves apart, alternating between getting thrown against the restraints of the command chair and getting the worst deep tissue shiatsu massage I could imagine as I was driven deep into the confines of the command chair itself, the padded surface barely provided any reprieve from the intense shaking. Radio chatter cut in and out as I breached the upper atmosphere, interference the likely culprit but I couldn't rule out the electronics getting shaken so badly they just disconnected intermittently either, and I occasionally heard some grunts, groans, yells, and other more colorful language as we pierced deeper into the thick atmosphere and finally hit the storm front Curie had warned us about, at one point I swore I heard Jenkins' maniacal laughter and it sounded like he was somehow enjoying himself. Sudden gale force winds buffeted the side of my drop pod, shoving it laterally several meters off course and feeling like I had been kicked by an Atlas and was now spiraling out laying sideways. I swore loudly and only afterwards wondered if I too had open comms on as the turbulence was enough I couldn't tell at glance. The pod's telemetry confirmed I was indeed off course but claimed I was still upright despite feeling like I was still tilted sideways, my sense of balance slowly recovered just in time to be jerked in the other direction as another burst of wind whipped my pod onto another diverging trajectory. Struggling to focus on my readouts I noted that all 4 members of Green Lance were precariously off course and spreading apart, although there was nothing to be done about that as the pods had no flight controls and only had the means to remain upright and slow our descent through an automated system using limited chemical rockets. This ride through hell continued unabated as I watched, strapped in for the ride, as our pods diverged farther and farther apart, each now spiraling seemingly out of control as the onboard system struggled to overcome the ferocity of the storm. "Green Lance, status check," I commanded over the comms after fighting to reach the controls and toggle the open channel, which it turned out had indeed been turned off at some point. "Traveler here," responded Blackwood immediately, his voice gritted and strained, "Off course but within stability limits, for now." "Wicked here," came Whitley's voice, his usual snarky undertones momentarily gone, "I'm holding together, I just hope your damned hand-me-down of a 'mech stays in one piece when I land." "Dionysus here," Jenkins voice had an unusually jovial tone to it, like an over-tired toddler or an insane person, "Hell of a ride Commander! Wooot!! Wooooootttttt!!! I don't know if I'm right side up or not but sign me up for another drop!" From the outside the quartet of blackened, angular pods were nearly invisible amongst the heavy gray clouds, swirling hail, snow, and ice, and the invisible winds tossed them about like a child's plaything. Their superheated shells glowing a brilliant orange from atmospheric reentry was a muted glow that reflected off the storm front like distant explosions and could only be seen momentarily when one of the pods punched through a thinner section of the layered cumulus clouds, appearing as a blazing streak for but a moment. In one of those brief moments an arc of lightning, which had been dancing through the heavy clouds like balls of lightning though more technically referred to as intra-cloud lightning, intersected with one of the pods causing a dazzlingly array of sparks and plasma-like discharge to race across the sealed exterior of the structure. Without warning my feeds went dark, a muted hiss and crackling sound filtered through the dampened cockpit as I felt my self shifting in orientation but seemingly not from the storm itself. It took a moment to realize that my 'mech itself was still powered up and I still had a data stream coming in from the Sturmfänger but all telemetry from my own pod, as well as the rest of the team, had been lost. A few precious moments later and the feeds crackled back to life, the plotters flickering on in a randomly staggered manner before solidifying back into their solid readings followed immediately by a series of warning klaxons and lights, alerting me to the fact that my pod was indeed rotating out of alignment with the fast approaching ground and that I was now in danger of being out of alignment when released from the pod. As the pod attempted to right itself I was suddenly thrown back into command chair of my 'mech once again, feeling like the pod had physically struck something this time, a new alert vying for attention and warning of external damage to the pod. It appeared one of the air brakes, heavily deployed in an attempt to right the craft, had sheared off in the thicker than normal atmosphere and the automated system had just lost nearly 20% of its attitude control. On the plus side, I was at least pointing in the right direction now but had an uncontrollable spiral as I continued to plummet towards the surface. Suddenly the shaking and turbulence stopped and the pod settled into a gentle, barely perceptible spin, just as the altimeter alerted me to the approaching release altitude. It appeared as though we had managed to clear the storm once closer to the surface but I couldn't be certain until the pod separated and I could actually take a look around. Thirty seconds later I got that opportunity as the drop pod reached its predetermined deployment altitude and the shell exploded into 5 distinct panels and the force of the atmosphere itself on the new, larger surface area of the panels caused them to peel away and separate within seconds of separating. The thick atmosphere, and high velocity, provided sufficient friction to quickly melt away the spun foam and ceramic cocoon, the ceramic fibers dispersing into the air as the structural components of the foam vaporized. As the last traces of the foam cocoon burned away the jump pack attached to my 'mech fired its multitude of jets to begin my aggressive deceleration. The jump pack itself was a single use, chemical rocket powered jump jet equivalent designed to bring a 'mech lacking its own jump jets down the surface in a controlled manner. The pack was attached about the Black Knight's waist with a set of explosive bolts to disconnect it once spent, electromagnets held extended panels secured against the machine's thighs both front and back as well as on each appropriate side, these extended panels each contained a brace of chemical rockets and fuel tanks with sufficient supply to slow up to a 75-ton heavy 'mech from terminal velocity to an acceptable landing speed; Anything larger would require the additional use of parachutes to reach a safe landing speed. The fact that my 'mech was at the absolute limit of the jump pack's ability nagged at the back of my mind as the external rockets kicked in and I watched my altimeter spin down and my speed slowly decrease. A few meters above the ground the rockets cut out and the explosive bolts detonated to send the now separate parts of the spent jump pack flying clear as the 75-ton war machine dropped the last distance in free fall, as the machine's feet crunched into the frozen ground, ice and permafrost-like snow shattering beneath the impact force, the Black Knight automatically crouched in the same manner as a human would to absorb the impact. I wasn't sure if the Battlemech lost its footing on the shifting snow or if the impact had just been harder than anticipated but the Black Knight tilted forward suddenly, dropping to its knees as I struggled to keep it upright, driving the left arm into the ground with a fist while keeping the right raised to protect the PPC mounted across the back of the forearm, its barrel sticking out well past the 'mechs hand actuators. I succeeded, barely, in keeping the machine upright and from the outside it would have looked more like a botched superhero landing rather than an aborted faceplant. Carefully I stood the 'mech back up, the sounds of actuators and myomer bundles straining echoed hollowly through the machine in a manner only possible in a cold atmosphere. Taking a look around I noted nothing of interest, and no useful landmarks visually, as my gaze swept across what was little more than a field of boundless ice and snow. Small hills and valleys appeared to make up most of the barren tundra and the subtle differences in shades of white were barely noticeable as I tried to pull up a terrain map based on satellite positioning, which according to my sensors we should have access to. "Green Lance, this is Bastion" I reported on the lance comms, "I've landed off course, approximately 3km SE of our drop zone. All systems nominal. What's your status?" "Dionysus is gonna be sick," answered Steve, his previously jovial tone replaced with a more somber one, a sudden retching sound in the background could be heard before his voice returned with an odd wet quality to it, "Mech's good to go though sir, I'll be right as rain soon enough. I'm somewhere to the North ... I think, unless I'm reading this upside down." "Traveler reporting in," responded Alex, his business-like tone indicating he'd weathered the storm decently enough or at least was putting on a show of having done so, "Tyche is in excellent condition. I landed 2km South-by-Southwest of the drop zone. Moving to regroup." "Fucking amateurs," came Jack's reply, his voice slightly distant as though he wasn't speaking directly into the mic at first, "I'm within 1 klick of the drop zone, surprisingly this scrap metal heap you call a 'mech survived the landing. I'll be waiting for your slow asses at the drop zone." "Haha, I've got it now," returned Steve's voice, his jovial tune returning, "Guess what Wicked, I'm closest to you, AND we're both tied for distance from the drop zone. Guess we both win, see you soon buddy." "F***'s sake, Blake save me," muttered Jack before an audible click of him turning off his mic cut his complaint short. "Alright, everyone converge on our planned drop zone, keep an eye on the terrain, its easy for elevation changes to hide in this tundra. It seems like we managed to clear the storm on the way down but it's surely still on its way here. I don't want to be caught off guard so report any changes you see in the weather or the storm above us," I ordered as I shifted the Black Knight into a steady lumber to the Northwest. Elsewhere and several minutes later ... The Trojan-class vessel's fusion engines pierced through the bottom layer of heavy clouds as the vessel began its final descent towards the Maqlae spaceport at Bascombe on Concord II, the spacecraft dropping quickly as its crew likely descended as fast as possible to get through the stormfront, its sheer size a significant deterrent against the otherwise incredible forces of the wild storm. Within moments the dropship touched down at the spaceport in docking bay 6 uneventfully, its cargo ramp deploying soon after as a large tracked vehicle rumbled down the ferro-steel platform followed by a considerably smaller van-type vehicle which mounted a large comm array dish and spinning radar apparatus on its roof. The two vehicles quickly slipped out of the spaceport and appeared to be heading out of the city despite the approaching storm while the usual flurry of activity surrounding a trading vessel began to slowly unfurl around Pad 6, the deck hands likely hoping to get whatever necessary loading/unloading done before the storm rolled in proper, which local projections put at within two hours.
    4 points
  16. Concord II Concord system - Free Worlds League May 27, 3031 (Friday) ______________________________________________ The parachutes exploded with a sharp boom, dragging me back, breaking through the biting wind of Concord II. Blinding whiteness spread in all directions as I quickly descended through the swirling snowstorm. The wind was relentless, ice particles hit my visor, and the snow-covered ground rushed towards me. Suddenly I realized that the horizon line was inclined at an acute angle - at least 50 degrees, if not more. I immediately realized that something was wrong. The wind had taken over my parachutes and I was now leaning hard to the left. I tried to correct the runway by tilting the power armor body as far to the right as possible, but nothing seemed to help. I approached quickly and at an angle that expected the left leg of my armor to bear the full weight and speed of the impact. I pressed myself against the frame of the armor, bracing myself for what I was sure would be a terrible encounter. The power armor computer screamed warnings. The ground was approaching fast - too fast - and then... An impact like I've never felt before. I landed on the icy ground with a deafening crash. I heard a very loud mechanical crack as my power armor slid through the snow in a violent cloud of ice and frost. My HUD was blinking on and off, damage reports were flashing in my visor. I had faced difficult situations before, but falling in the middle of a winter hell with broken power armor was a new challenge for me. I lay there for a while, dazed and disoriented. My vision became clearer, an alarm sounded in my ears, and the HUD flashed red. I quickly silenced it, I needed to concentrate. Looking at my instruments, I realized that I had left several pieces of my armor, but the most damage was done to the left leg of the suit. As I feared, it took the brunt of the impact, but the knee servo broke, completely disabling the limb. I moaned and forced my body to move. I had to assess the damage. The left leg of the armor was twisted unpleasantly, and I could see sparks around the knee joint. I tried moving my leg and experimented with different levels of force. Nothing. A feeling of dread came over me as I realized that I would have to venture into the cold and howling tundra to fix the problem myself. If I had not done this, my mission would have ended before it began. To prepare for the cold, I pressed the button on my right glove. The front of the armor cracked, and I immediately felt a sharp cold. As I struggled, snowflakes swirled around me, instantly covering me in a layer of white. The wind howled and screamed in my ears as I pushed away from it to turn around and look back at the damage to my armor. I realized that I was standing almost waist-deep in snow and that my suit had made a deep furrow in it, littered with fragments of armor. I pulled the combat knife from the sheath on its right leg and used it to cut away the destroyed parachutes before moving to inspect the damage to its left leg. The knee was a disaster. The broken servo's wires were ripped out and the whole thing looked like it had slipped halfway out of the joint. I didn't have the right tools or parts to make a proper repair, but it might be possible to make something homemade. I realized I needed to do two things: reconnect the disconnected wires and somehow get the servo back in place before my fingers froze in the ungodly cold. I quickly found a repair kit for my armor, and inside it was a roll of conductive tape, a hammer, a crowbar, and a folding crimping tool. Using the crowbar, I managed to tear off the armor casing from the damaged knee. Inside, I saw that the impact with the ground had dislodged the servo, causing the power and control cables to be severed. So my first task was to use a hammer to push the servo back into place as gently as possible without destroying it completely. I used the pry bar as a makeshift lever, forcing it between the incorrectly attached servo and the surrounding metal casing. As the wind howled like an enraged animal, I began to hit the end of the lever rod with a hammer, slowly returning the servo to its original position. I expected sparks or some kind of protest from the thing, but instead, over several icy, painful moments, it slid slowly and angrily into place. With my fingers now almost completely numb, I started working on the wires. The cold made every movement sluggish and painful. I pulled the ends back with shaky fingers, exposing them before applying the conductive tape. The glue connection wasn't as strong as it could have been due to frost clinging to the wires, but I just hoped it would hold up. I wrapped them as tightly as I could and prayed that they conduct enough electricity to power the servo. Now comes the last and most difficult part: the crimping pliers. I barely had enough strength to inflate the thing, but I knew that without proper clamping I would just continue lying in the snow waiting for the cold to come to me. I inserted the ends of the wire into the crimping tool as my eyes began to glaze over. Crimping is a delicate process, especially when it feels like your hand has been dipped into a bucket of dry ice. I squeezed the crimping tool as hard as I could. My vision was blurry. My grip slipped. The damn thing almost fell out of my frozen fingers. But then I felt it. A small but clear click. The crimpers did their job and secured the connection between the wires. Several small lights above the servo blinked, indicating that it was receiving power. I quickly grabbed the armor plate cover and hammered it into place before the weather could undo my work. After gathering my tools, I put my power armor back on and breathed a sigh of relief when the suit closed and the heater turned on. But a big test lay ahead of me: whether the suit would hold up at all. I bent my left knee. There was a terrible crunching sound from the power armor's left servo, but then the leg responded with the same movement. The renovation was a success. I put weight on it and expected the worst, but to my satisfaction it held up. With a triumphant grin, I stood the suit fully for the first time since landing. I took several experimental steps. The suit was heavy and slow, not as responsive as it should have been, but at least it moved. With renewed vigor, I made my way through the snow to the planned meeting point. “Junaid to all units,” I radioed, “I had a rough landing, but I’m moving and on my way.”
    3 points
  17. MRCN Sturmfänger Approaching Concord II Concord system - Free Worlds League May 27, 3031 (Friday) - 15:53 hours ______________________________________________ “Alright, Specialist,” I quipped as I looked back up the ladder that led into my King Crab’s darkened cockpit. “Come on down.” Curie glanced down at me, her face a bit pale as she evaluated the distance, nodded, and began the painstaking descent, trying to maintain the delicate balance between her body, medical bag, and her still-ungainly motor skills. I could see the nervousness in her eyes, and I tried to reassure her with a small smile. "Y'know, they say first time's always the hardest," I joked, trying to lighten up the somber atmosphere. "Just don't think of it as a thousand-meter drop into blizzard conditions." She gave me a lopsided smile, the left side of her face not quite keeping up with the right. "That is to come." I chuckled, then braced my arms to catch her if she stumbled, which, unfortunately, she did, from a much higher rung than I would have liked. She fumbled first her grip, then her footing, causing her to plunge gracelessly toward the deck of the cockpit. My arms shot out instinctively, gripping her in a bear hug and pulling her toward me to keep her body away from the ladder's steel as she fell. Curie collided with me with a grunt, her medical bag driven forward with inertia to smack loudly against the cockpit’s wall before ricocheting off and striking both of us. "Alright, alright, we're good," I exhaled, throwing my foot forward and stopping us from toppling over completely as Curie failed her dangling legs in an attempt assist. I set her down gently on the 'Mech's floor, steadying her body with a hand on her shoulder. "You okay?" She looked up at me, framed by the dim cockpit lighting, her expression a tangle of confusion and surprise. "I think so," she began, her words thoughtful and measured as usual. “Thank you." “Don’t mention it,” I replied, still slightly breathless from the sudden exertion. "Might need to work on that balance a little more, though." Curie nodded assertively. "Yes. Improve balance," she acknowledged, lightly patting my hand. Then, she turned and moved toward the improvised weather equipment installed in the cockpit next to the rumble seat, looking at it inquisitively. "My station?" she asked. I nodded as I slung myself into the King Crab’s pilot seat to begin its startup sequence. "Yeah. We thought we'd be running that gear from inside the BRV, but since you're gonna be boots on the ground, so to speak, Levi moved it over here." "How will that work?" Curie inquired, genuine interest in her voice. As I glanced over my shoulder at her, I saw that she’d eased into the rumble seat fully attired in a laboratory coat replete with that armband, a high-collared, cable-knit bodysuit, scarf, cargo pants, and her medical bag still slung over her shoulder, as though she were simply hitching a ride on a cross-town transport. It was painfully apparent she had no frame of reference for what was about to transpire. "Bunch of sensors and wires and circuits,” I shrugged. “I connect it to the radio, and it receives the Command Van's data wherever we’re headed." Curie pulled out her data pad, her fingers moving swiftly. Quickly, she showed me a message: Does it need line of sight? "Well, yeah," I answered. "We hadn't planned on this type of a setup. So, Jaeger's doing some wrangling with the local militia for temporary use of a satellite while the support team’s trying to catch up with us from the spaceport.” "We'll have data?" Curie asked, and even through her simple words, I could sense the hesitation in her voice. "Nope," I replied, beginning to run through the pre-flight checks. "If all goes well, once we've secured that satellite, we’ll have Captain Dunlap up there with her own eye on the sky, albeit temporarily. It's just the getting there that might be a bit…interesting." "Interesting..." Curie echoed, her eyes wide. I could see her gaze darting around the cockpit, drinking in the sight of all of the flashing lights, dials, and screens coming alive. "Speaking of which, you’re seriously overdressed,” I added. “You’re not gonna want to be in all of those layers the first time this beast overheats in the middle of a firefight." I pivoted in the pilot’s chair to face her, casting her a serious expression to convey the fact that I wasn’t simply kidding. "Unless you've got a thing for roasting alive." Curie blinked, looking down at her heavily layered clothing in surprise. "Oh. What do...you suggest?" she asked. “You see what I’m wearing?” I asked, gesturing at the jet-black bodysuit covering my inner torso but exposing my arms and legs. "You're gonna need one of these. Helps with the heat. That lower layer you’re wearing - it’s pretty much like this one, right?” "Similar," Curie affirmed, abruptly shrugging off her medical coat. Before I knew it, she’d kicked off her boots and was in the process of undoing her belt buckle. “Whoa, whoa, whoa!” I exclaimed. “Let's not go getting anyone in trouble here. Let me turn around.” Curie froze, her hand still poised on the buckle of her belt. Her cheeks flushed red, a color barely visible under the cockpit's harsh lighting. "Last time was...no towels," she mumbled. "Fair enough,” I chuckled. “But I’m gonna go ahead and get things started up until you tell me you're done.” With that, I pivoted toward the King Crab’s sweeping controls, running through the startup sequences that would bring the war machine to life. As I carried on, the heavy hum of the gyro spinning up filled my ears, a sound as familiar as an old friend's voice. My heart pounded in sync with the rhythmic hum, like it was trying to keep pace as the noise grew louder and more vigorous. Ares hadn’t been fielded since Commander Walsh’s devastating loss, and even though Levi had done his best with the maintenance work, I couldn’t shake off the jittery nerves. “Is better?” Curie asked, her voice breaking through my tension-induced trance. I turned around to see her standing there barefoot, clad in the high-collared, long-sleeved, short-legged bodysuit, still replete with that blue scarf of hers, making it look like she was preparing for a bizarre winter storm pool party rather than a battle. "Yeah, I think that’ll do,” I affirmed. “You should put your socks and boots back on, though. Now, take a seat and buckle in. I’ll be up there in a minute to make sure you’re secured." Without saying a word, Curie complied, moving toward the small rumble seat situated just behind and above the King Crab’s pilot chair. It was a cramped position, not designed for passenger comfort, but as she pulled her footwear back on, she didn’t seem to mind. As I continued the process of preparing the ‘Mech for what was likely to be the hottest drop Aegis Division had ever experienced, I heard her exploring the retrofit weather station that we'd clumsily bolted onto the upper cockpit’s safety rail, fingers tracing over buttons and toggles in a manner that implied a calculated interest. Unexpectedly, her voice broke the silence in a manner I could almost have mistaken for small talk. “What did you mean,” she began slowly, “‘you’ve exceeded your quota of ‘no’ for the day?’” Caught off-guard, I glanced up at Curie in her seat, her eyes locked onto mine through the reflective glass of my neurohelmet. "Well," I started, “it means that even though you intended well, at some point, you have to trust me as your commanding officer, not just as your friend.” As I continued my pre-flight checks, the shrill whine of the King Crab’s fusion reactor spooling up to its maximum output filled the cockpit, nearly drowning out my response. Curie must have had the presence of mind to slip her helmet on, as the next thing I knew, her voice was crackling in my own. “But, your plan was inefficient.” I had to chuckle at that. She wasn’t wrong, but the situation was more complex than she’d likely ever experienced. “Listen. I always welcome dissent. And, I even reckon you’re right. But, sometimes, efficiency isn’t the name of the game. Sometimes, it's about just making sure everyone comes back in one piece. And that can, occasionally, lead you to a less than efficient solution as your best option. With all those memories of yours, I’ve got to believe you understand that the best plan sometimes isn’t always the most pragmatic one." There was a pause before Curie's voice returned. “I remember. But hard to…conceive. I don’t think like that…now. It's more...procedural.” With my pre-flight checks done, I unfastened my harness and stowed the neurohelmet, rising from Ares’ pilot couch to ensure that Curie was fully strapped in and as prepared as she could be for the hellish fall from orbit we were about to experience. "I get it. Makes perfect sense, in fact. You've got all this objective knowledge, all these logical pathways in your mind. Makes everything super clear - in theory. And there’s nothing wrong with that. In fact, it’s great. But, unfortunately, the real world is seldom so black and white," I explained, gently taking hold of her seat restraints and tightening them securely. "Sometimes, you gotta trust the plan. I get that the most efficient route would have been to stick you in the rumble seat with Nick. But that’s 25 tons less of armor and guns you’d have been behind when you could be doing the same exact job from here.” “But what if Nick. What if. He has an emergency?” Curie protested. "Then we'll get you to him, same as always," I replied, looking into her eyes. "But the less-than-pretty part of your equation is, if you were riding with Nick, and 25 tons made a difference, I could end up losing not just a really talented MechWarrior, but you as well. And think of all of the people beyond Nick you wouldn't be able to treat at that point." I gave her shoulder another reassuring squeeze, trying to assuage the stress I felt radiating from her beneath my hand. Curie looked back at me, an expression of resignation on her countenance as she nodded quietly. The lights on the console flickered and turned red, signaling that our drop was imminent. The intercom crackled to life, Commander Dunlap’s voice coming across clear and determined. “Strap in, MechWarriors. Ready op. Prepare for hot drop in T-minus two minutes.” Shoving my initial anxiety aside, I focused back on Curie, giving her straps and helmet another once-over of final adjustments. “Look, we’re about to drop. And it’s gonna feel really strange, OK? First, weightlessness. Then, free fall. After that, probably the turbulence and whatever fresh hell you predicted. Some bumps. A hard jerk as the parachutes deploy. And we’re not gonna be able to move or see anything out the windows until that cocoon burns off at the end. You good with that?” Curie looked at me, her face revealing a spark of anxiety that belied her simple nod. “Good.” Her hand reached up to clutch the scarf, a small sign of nervousness that I was becoming adept at reading. I nodded, giving her a final clap on the shoulder before quickly moving to scoot back into the pilot’s chair, donning my neurohelmet as I did so. "Sit tight. It's about to get rough." “Okay,” her voice crackled in my headset. The drop light in the cockpit turned green. Moments later, Dunlap’s voice cut across the comms once more. “Drop sequence initiated.” A sudden jolt shook us as the Sturmfänger released our cocoon. The next thing I knew, zero gravity overtook Ares’ cockpit as we found ourselves falling, hurtling toward Concord’s atmosphere, the maelstrom awaiting with bated breath to envelop us in its icy grip.
    1 point
  18. "Hello." I jumped and bumped my head on the underside of the table-desk-thing I was unbolting the weather station receiver unit from. I scooted out from under it and said "hi, Curie." She looked even more intense than usual, and fiddled with the end of her scarf. "I'm concerned. About Nick." "Me too!" I said, probably too loud. "I mean, he said he's fine now, but..." "His condition could be fatal." "Wait, WHAT? He didn't tell me that! Why are we dropping him from the sky in three hours when he might die?!" "If not managed," Curie finished. "Oh. Okay. That's... less bad. Still really bad." I picked up some of the hardware bits from the weather station that got scattered on the floor around me and put them on the tabletop above my head so they wouldn't get lost later. "I thought the nanites were helping him, though. Why are they a problem now?" She tilted her head at me. "You don't know?" "I mean, he said he had a rough night and missed breakfast because of a nanite thing, but I never got to find out the details." "They replicated," Curie said. "Too fast. Obstructed his blood." "Oh. Ouch." Curie nodded emphatically. "Very." She opened her mouth to stay more, then closed it again. She typed on her data pad while I waited, then passed it to me. "Oh shit," I said. "So Nick can't do his speed-healing thing anymore either." "Correct." "I mean, I guess that part isn't any worse than what anyone else faces, but..." "Human life is dangerous," Curie offered. "Yeah." I handed her tablet back to her. "So uh, I'd wanted to run some stuff by you, as the weather expert. Even with you riding along with the Captain, there's some medical equipment in the BRV that'd be hard to fit in a mech, so I've been working on ways to make sure it'll be able to catch up with you. Only, I've never actually been in the snow before." Curie nodded like that was a totally normal thing to say. "Gellens Heights, Oberon - no snow." "Yeah. The caterpillar treads should be fine in the snow as long as it's not meters deep, and the plow attachment can push through a lot if it is. But the stuff I read said ice on sloped ground can still be a problem. And I found these shrapnel shells in inventory that fit the BRV's big gun. I think they're kinda war-crimey, since they're only effective against people who aren't in vehicles and aren't wearing much armor - but anyway. The shells get hot when you fire them, so I emptied a few out and replaced the metal bits with gravel. I'm hoping it'll sink into the ice and freeze there by the time the BRV catches up to the place the shot was fired at, so we can use it to get a little extra traction for climbing up slopes." Curie handed her padd back to me - she'd been typing while I talked. "Thanks - I guess 'worth trying' is about as much as I'd hoped for. Is there anything we can do to help Nick?" Curie took the tablet back and typed some more. Then, she handed it back to me. That didn't sound good. I didn't quite get how the nanites worked, but I'd seen how much of a pain in the butt it'd been for Nick to get even basic control over them in the first place. And I didn't know what apheresis even was. I handed her tablet back. "This last thing," I pointed at the unfamilliar word, "is it something we can do here on the ship?" Curie's eyes narrowed slightly as she made a thinking face. "No. We do not have the equipment." "So... we can't help Nick out here. What's the plan, then?" Curie's fingers flew over the tablet. She held it up to show me. So basically we didn't know what would happen or how to fix it, and Nick was determined to go on the op so there wasn't much chance of him taking it easy. I tried to squash down the panic. "Got it. I'll make sure he's okay, as much as I can." Curie looked at me with conviction and answered, "Me too."
    1 point
  19. MRCN Sturmfänger Approaching Concord II Concord system - Free Worlds League May 27, 3031 (Friday) - 13:40 hours ______________________________________________ "Assuming we can make this drop without getting blown to atoms by the storm," Nick asked, "is there any way to drop the M.A.S.H. ambulance with us to at least keep us patched up until the cavalry arrives? Or somehow get one or more of our medics down to the drop site with us? Holes in armor we can handle. Holes in bodies seem like a much more immediate problem." I eyed Nick, trying to work out if he was asking a general question or if the query was specific to his stunning medical condition Mallory had briefed me on this morning. Either way, as much as I hated to admit it, he had a valid point. And a valid plan. "One moment, please," I responded, gesturing toward Commander Jaeger, Doctor Aldon, and Specialist Franklin to join me outside the observation room in the corridor. Mallory rose from his seat, quirking his eyebrow at me inquisitively as we all moved out into the corridor. Once the observation room's heavy door shut behind us, I took a deep breath. “As much as I hate to admit this,” I began carefully, “I think Nick’s got a point.” Orlex frowned slightly, “A medic in the field is one thing, but in the rumble seat of a BattleMech?” I held up a hand to forestall the detailed, logical, and entirely sane tactical arguments I knew were about to come from him. "The plan is risky and, in ordinary circumstances, unthinkable," I conceded. "But these aren't ordinary circumstances. We're making a drop in the middle of a storm, onto a battlefield, with no guarantee that the medics can get to us in a timely manner, if at all.” Orlex rubbed his prosthetic arm, a gesture I’d come to learn was associated with stress. “Cap, you know I’m willing to be audacious, but having non-combatants in the rumble seat of a ‘Mech that’s going into battle, not withdrawing from it…it’s asking for trouble,” he replied, his voice heavy with concern. “Hey, I’m not exactly a ‘non-combatant,’” Mallory quipped, eliciting a smile from Jaeger. “No offense,” the commander added. "None taken," Mallory chuckled. "However, bullets, bombs, and BattleMechs don't tend to care about one's walk in life. And Schuster is correct. In the event of an emergency, having a medic on hand could save crucial time. Especially if the convoy is bogged down in snow.” “For what it’s worth, I feel like Schuster may have floated this suggestion in defense of his own current perilous condition. Realistically, I can’t believe you two haven’t benched him,” I snapped back, glaring at both Mallory and Curie. “Nevertheless, I’ll respect your opinions and go along with them. For now. In the mean time, then, Mal, saddle up. You’re riding with me.” Suddenly, I felt a firm grip on my arm. I recognized the unnaturally-cool touch without even having to turn my head. “No,” Curie stated firmly, her voice echoing in the corridor. I pivoted to face her, surprised by her sudden intervention. Her eyes were determined. “No?” I asked incredulously. “You have a different opinion?” “Yes,” she answered back, still holding onto my arm. “Mallory stays. I go." At that, Mallory, Orlex, and I were all struck speechless. "Absolutely not!" I began but was cut off by her hardened stare, those haunting blue eyes flashing under the dim corridor lights. "Why?" "Because," she began, releasing my arm and folding hers over her chest, the posture a stark contradiction to her usually poised demeanor. "I understand…Nick’s nanites.” I blinked, taken aback. The corridor was deathly silent. “What do you mean by that? Mallory does, too,” I argued. Curie clasped her hands together, momentarily fumbling for words. At length, she spoke. “He has arterial clogging. Yes. But. The problem is not fully…medical. It is also…technical. If there is a problem…with them…I am…faster." Mallory broke his silence then. "So, putting aside the fact that you might have tacitly just called me a Neanderthal, I kind of agree.” “Are you serious?” I resisted, realizing that I was quickly finding myself on the losing end of this argument. Mallory just shrugged, adjusting his glasses. "From a purely pragmatic point of view, she makes a lot of sense. I'm more comfortable with human biology than LosTech," he explained, giving me a pointed look as if saying ‘it’s time to face the facts.’ I turned to Commander Jaeger, an imploring look in my eyes. For a moment, he hesitated, as if starting to speak, but then simply shrugged, responding simply, “Medicine is way outside of my wheelhouse.” I sighed, dragging my hands over my face in defeat. "Alright, Curie. You can drop with us. But," I pointed an accusatory finger at her, "I swear by the Great Kerensky, if anything happens to you…you'll be getting an earful from me." Curie nodded, responding in her nonchalant way. “Yes. I’ll ride with Nick. Keep him safe. Keep us safe.” “You're riding with me,” I interjected. “I'm gonna personally make sure you stay safe.” “No, that is inefficient,” Curie protested. “Nick’s ‘Mech is safe for him. It is safe for me.” I exhaled sharply, making no attempt to hide the exasperation at my commitment to a plan I already regretted. “You’ve exhausted your quota of ‘No’ for the day, Specialist. If you’re dropping with us, you’re dropping in the most heavily armored piece of kit we can field. You can monitor Nick’s condition just fine from the command ‘Mech. And, when you’re not doing that, I want you watching the weather.” Curie opened her mouth as if to argue more but closed it again. She seemed to know that debating the matter further might risk the chance of being able to join us on the drop altogether. "I’ll watch the weather," she agreed finally, nodding at me with a finality that indicated she accepted my terms. "Good. Then it’s settled. Let’s notify the others.”
    1 point
  20. Earlier that morning… MRCN Sturmfänger Nadir Jump Point Concord system - Free Worlds League May 25, 3031 (Wednesday) - 04:37 hours ______________________________________________ I woke up with an inadvertent yell. The pain burned through my veins, like an inferno. It wasn’t a simple muscle cramp or joint ache. The pain was overwhelming and felt like a bunch of tiny hornets coursing through my blood. My hand went to the bedside to turn on my light. In my panic, I knocked over the glass of water I'd left there, and it smashed to the floor. In agony I hauled myself out of my bunk. I staggered toward my locker, reaching blindly for my noteputer and the bio-scanner dermal patch Doctor Halsey and I had built. My knees buckled under the sheer intensity of the pain. I could somehow feel the nanites in my bloodstream, like thousands of tiny, hot needles jabbing into my veins. As I found the devices, I felt a wave of nausea wash over me and the metallic taste of blood filled my mouth. Almost collapsing onto the floor, I threw my noteputer onto the bed, flipped it open, plugged in the scanner, and pressed the device on my wrist. My eyes strained to keep focus on the noteputer’s screen through the pain. Eventually, a diagnostic scan popped up. My blood pressure was critical. My heart rate was dangerously high, and the bio-scanner detected a rampant increase in my nanite count. "This can't be right." I groaned, squinting at the red figures on the screen. The pain was getting worse and now I had an understanding of why. The nanites had somehow started replicating, which we had thought was impossible. It looked like they were replicating out of control. I managed to stand, grabbing a set of clothes from my locker. I needed medical help, and fast. But the only people who had any understanding of my nanites were Alyssa, Mallory, and Curie. Most of the crew would be asleep at this hour, it wasn't ideal to disturb anyone, but I had no choice. Curie’s room was right near mine, and if anyone had in-depth knowledge of how this LosTech worked, it would be her, after the way she figured out how to use them to literally repair Alyssa’s brain. I staggered out of my room in the ship’s crew quarters, the hallway outside lit by the dim emergency lighting that never switched off. I could hear nothing but the low hum of the ship's engines and my ragged breathing. Before I knew it, I was at Curie’s door. I slapped its heavy metal surface over and over with my palm, my strength already diminishing. After what felt like an eternity, the door swung open to reveal Curie. She was dressed in a gray t-shirt and shorts and her hair was super disheveled. She didn’t even have her scarf on. I had never seen her looking anything less than prim and proper. "Nick?" she asked, blinking from her sudden interruption of sleep. "I need help." I gasped, letting go of the door frame, my knees failing. She quickly wrapped her arm around my waist to hold me up. "You're pale." she added as she hurried me into her quarters and plopped me down onto a bean bag chair. It felt absurd but it was better than standing. "Nanites." I wheezed, wincing as a fresh wave of pain hit me. “They’re replicating. Look.” I pressed my noteputer into her hands. As she looked at the screen, her eyes went wide, and she suddenly moved with a frightening speed. "Stay still." she ordered as she pulled my shirt off and slapped the dermal patch containing the sensor directly against my chest. I watched as she launched the admin section of the Nanite Interface v0.8 application on my noteputer, the program that Doctor Halsey and I had cobbled together last year. My vision started to blur. "Nick, stay conscious." Curie demanded, her voice suddenly even more authoritative. I squinted at the screen, trying to keep my mind focused on something, anything. Just then, she issued one of the few commands that we had figured out how to make work with the nanites: SHUTDOWN. A second later, the noteputer flashed a warning: GLOBAL SHUTDOWN ACKNOWLEDGED. Curie flipped back to the diagnostic scan. The nanites had suddenly stopped moving. “They have stopped replicating.” Curie announced, her tone colder and more mechanical. I could tell she was working hard to remain collected. “Well, shit, I could have done that.” I joked weakly, trying to reassure her. “How come I still feel like I’m on fire?” There was a long pause, and I saw Curie furrow her eyebrows in deep thought. “Your veins are congested. With nanites.” she responded. “Obstructing blood flow. That's why." "I thought they were supposed to help, not turn against us." I said, gritting my teeth. “You need blood thinner.” Curie replied. She reached for her medical bag and rummaged through the various vials. Eventually, she looked up at me with a sense of urgency. "None here." she explained. “Come with me. To med bay.” Curie took my hands and pulled me to my feet with surprising strength. Then, again supporting me with an arm around my waist, she led me down the hallway. It would have been a comical scene if it weren’t for the circumstances. Me, shirtless and looking dazed out of my mind, being propped up by Curie. Her, dressed in shorts and a t-shirt, barefoot, scarfless, hair sticking out in every direction. We could have been mistaken for the aftermath of one of Steve’s late-night ragers in the motor pool. I don’t remember most of the walk to the med bay, but eventually, we reached it. “Lights on!” Curie commanded as we entered the darkened room. The overhead glow panels flickered to life in a sterile blue-white. The sudden brightness felt like it tore through my eyes straight into my aching skull. “Lay down.” she instructed, steering me over to one of the empty beds. I complied without a word, my knees buckling again as I practically fell onto the thin mattress. Curie grunted softly as she tried to control my descent. She wasn't really successful, but I appreciated her effort. I watched as she practically ran to the medication cabinet and swiped her finger over the reader. She froze for a moment, then swiped her finger again. Then, frantically, she pulled repeatedly on the cabinet’s handle. Eventually, she let out a surprising cry of frustration and pounded the heel of her palm against the metal surface. “No fingerprints!” she exclaimed in panic. I had never seen her lose her composure before. Her disheveled state seemed to become worse, and her eyes were wide and frantic. I tried to get up to intervene. But my body was slow and unresponsive. “Curie.” I moaned. “I think I can help with that. In the R&D lab. Levi finished your biometric gloves yesterday. We were just letting them cure overnight. If you can get them…” “The lab is far!” Curie responded, now in a full-blown panic. She walked quickly over to me, looking around the room as if she hoped a solution would materialize out of thin air. "I can't leave you alone. You can't move!" I laughed painfully. “I’ll be fine-ish. There's no other options. Go.” Relenting, Curie bit her lip and nodded. "Be strong." she said before turning away and sprinting out the door, nearly falling over herself. I could hear her awkward footsteps growing fainter and fainter as she moved farther away from the medical bay. Eventually, all I could hear were my own shaky breaths that came in painful gasps. I don’t know how long she was gone, but eventually, Curie came back, blood streaming from one of her knees as she focused on pulling on the gloves we’d built for her. She must have noticed me watching because she looked over at me. "I fell down." she explained, and then turned back to the medication cabinet. This time, when she swiped her gloved hand over the reader, it beeped cheerfully in response and the door unlocked. She quickly found the blood thinner and loaded it into an auto-injector. "Are you ready?" she asked as she limped over to me. Her calmness was back. She seemed like she was fully in control of the situation. I nodded, my own panic calming a bit as well. Curie injected the medication into my arm. I barely felt the sharp sting through the immense cloud of pain I was already experiencing. "That should help." Curie explained. She stood by my bed in silence, the overhead lights amplifying the tiredness and worry on her face. "Thank you. What do we do after that?” I asked. “Baby steps.” Curie replied. “I'll stay. Monitor your vitals.” “You don’t have to - ” I protested. But she cut me off mid-sentence, giving me a hard look. "I do. It is my job. And my choice." Later that day… MRCN Sturmfänger Approaching Concord II Concord system - Free Worlds League May 27, 3031 (Friday) - 13:35 hours ______________________________________________ Throughout the course of the briefing, I kept getting brief stares. Mallory’s were concerned. Curie’s were analytical. On the other hand, Captain Maxwell and Commander Jaeger seemed to be sizing me up. I wasn't sure if they were worried about my health or assessing whether I was still fit for duty. When the subject of our support and medical assets being potentially unable to get to where we were going to drop came up, Captain Maxwell looked sharply in my direction. I decided to obliquely try to reassure him that I felt up to dropping with the rest of the team by asking a question in response. “Yes, Schuster.” Commander Jaeger said flatly. "Assuming we can make this drop without getting blown to atoms by the storm, is there any way to drop the M.A.S.H. ambulance with us to at least keep us patched up until the cavalry arrives?" I asked. "Or somehow get one or more of our medics down to the drop site with us? Holes in armor we can handle. Holes in bodies seem like a much more immediate problem."
    1 point
  21. MRCN Sturmfänger Approaching Concord II Concord system - Free Worlds League May 27, 3031 (Friday) - 13:35 hours ______________________________________________ "Sir," Idris said as he rose to his feet. "This is a development of grave concern. If we are to be this badly separated, what is the plan for delivering the support resources to us quickly? I am worried about contingency situations where, as example, my own prototype breaks down or someone encounters an emergency." The roads, I thought to myself with a sudden feeling of panic. As Captain Maxwell and Commander Jaeger responded to Idris’ question, I looked intently at the meteorological data on my tablet, footage of a recent Concord blizzard catching my attention. Blinding whiteout conditions. Vehicles trapped in meters of snow, frozen solid as if a sculptor carefully placed them there. It wasn't pretty, no. Not pretty at all. The planet was an icy tundra, devoid of the vibrant plants and animals I knew and loved. In a sudden rush, a vivid memory overcame me. The delicate white petals of Elgin's purple leaf sand cherry trees swirled through the air like a flurry of snowflakes, gently caressing my skin as they fell. I spun around, laughing and twirling in their midst, the warm glow of the setting sun casting an ethereal light across Covenant Lake. As I tumbled to the ground in joyful abandon, the cool blades of grass cushioned my fall, and the rich scent of earth filled my lungs. A soft hand reached out to help me up, their face obscured by the blinding rays of the sinking sun. My breath hitched in my chest as the memory faded, replaced by the stark images of the blizzard-ravaged landscape displayed on my tablet. “…planetary militia has advised that the roadways to and from the drop site will regularly plowed and salted, but I'm not about to put stock in their promises," Captain Maxwell's voice pierced through my reverie. "We need to be prepared for the reality that medical and support resources may be delayed - if not entirely prevented from reaching us - until the storm passes and the roads can be made accessible.” The hairs on the back of my neck bristled as I instinctively exchanged glances with Levi, who sat in the audience with a pensive expression, his brow furrowed in deep thought. The worry in his face seemed out of place, but also felt as though it mirrored my own. As quartermaster, Levi was responsible for ensuring we had the material support we needed to survive this environment. As medical assistant, I was charged with the health of the crew. This logistical dilemma jeopardized both our charges. I could not accept the possibility of failure. The words 'delayed' and 'prevented' sent shivers down my spine, their implications far too severe. I knew there was no chance I'd be allowed to drop in the rumble seat of a BattleMech. So, I needed to talk to Levi. Soon.
    1 point
  22. MRCN Sturmfänger Approaching Concord II Concord system - Free Worlds League May 27, 3031 (Friday) - 13:27 hours ______________________________________________ Captain Maxwell and Commander Jaeger looked at the audience while Specialist Franklin peered at the device in her hands. This news filled me with worry. I raised my hand. "Nasir?" Captain Maxwell acknowledged. "Sir," I said, standing to my feet. "This is a development of grave concern. If we are to be this badly separated, what is the plan for delivering the support resources to us quickly? I am worried about contingency situations where as example my own prototype breaks down or someone encounters an emergency."
    1 point
  23. MRCN Sturmfänger Approaching Concord II Concord system - Free Worlds League May 27, 3031 (Friday) - 13:27 hours ______________________________________________ As Orlex opened the floor to questions, a soft voice broke the silence. “Expect it.” I looked toward the speaker. Curie sat pensively, her data tablet clutched in her hands. “Scatter,” she clarified, anxiety in her expression. There was a certain urgency in her voice, a severe edge to it that I hadn't heard before. Orlex looked at me for a moment, then back at Curie. “I’m listening,” I prompted. As Curie rose to speak, she snagged her foot on the leg of her chair, causing her to lurch forward a step. Mallory moved reflexively to catch her, but she regained her balance before he could get there. “Whoa there, weather girl!” Whitley heckled from the back of the room, a cruel smirk etched on his face as he chuckled at his own joke. I shot him a cold look. Ignoring him, Curie straightened up and collected herself, maneuvering to the front of the room. “I modeled it,” she explained, pulling up a meteorological overview of Concord II on the tablet. “What am I looking at?” I asked, focusing on the tablet's swirling patterns of green and red, indicating wind speed and temperature fluctuations. Curie pointed at the dense swirls, her eyes filled with grim intensity. “Chaos,” she stated with a deep breath, indicating a small dot on the map. "Here. Our drop point. Low-pressure front approaching.” "Meaning?" Whitley broke in, sounding more annoyed than interested. "Meaning," Curie scowled at him, her slight annoyance clear, before returning her attention to the rest of us, "a blizzard. High-altitude winds. Up to 300 KPH. Turbulence. Drop pod drift. Wide dispersion." Her finger traced an arc across the screen, demonstrating the storm’s projected path. "Wait a minute," Orlex interjected, his hand moving to point at the map as it flickered with erratic weather patterns. "You're saying this storm front will hit us right at insertion?" “The probability is high,” she nodded. “Define 'high,'" I pressed, seeking more quantification. Curie looked me straight in the eyes. "Eighty-seven point three percent," she answered, her tone leaving no room for argument. For a brief moment, the room fell silent as everyone processed the information. The possibility that each MechWarrior in our lances would now have to rely solely on themselves upon landing had just become much more likely. The silence was shattered by Whitley’s gruff voice. “So, we're jumping blind and off target. Great. Just...great.” He leaned back in his chair, rubbing his face with his hands in exasperation. “Yes and no,” Curie replied, clasping her hands in front of her as I continued to study the map. “Communication...shouldn’t be disrupted.” "Shouldn't be? We're going to base this mission on a 'shouldn't be'?" Whitley fired back. His voice held a mix of sarcasm and genuine concern. “Enough,” I interrupted, raising a hand to quell the rising tensions. There’s only so much we can do to control our landing conditions. We’ve faced the elements before and come out on top. I’d rather know now that I’m going to have to be a lone wolf than find out after I’ve hit the ground. Wouldn’t you?” Jack nodded begrudgingly but said nothing further. I gave Curie a nod of gratitude. “Your familiarity with the planet's weather patterns likely just saved some lives. Thank you.” She returned my words with a brief nod. "Keep modeling the storm's speed and direction. Commander Dunlap will need to know how far she can move the drop zone without compromising our objective,” I continued before turning to address the room. "You're all professionals. We've been through tough operations before. This ain't no different. Stay focused, stay alive. Questions?”
    1 point
  24. MRCN Sturmfänger Approaching Concord II Concord system - Free Worlds League May 27, 3031 (Friday) - 13:15 hours ______________________________________________ 4 hours until atmospheric entry (Concord II) So it turned out that the whole reason the militia had been so cryptic and why we hadn't been receiving any updates or communications of any kind was because roughly two weeks prior the enemy forces on Concord II had captured the HPG station, cutting both the militia and the planet itself off from intergalactic communications. The militia didn't know to what extent the enemy had made use of the HPG station and assumed that they were able to tap into any communication channels, after all how else would Comstar always know what was happening everywhere, and were being highly secretive to avoid the risk of the enemy intercepting their comms. That fear was mostly unfounded as standard comms never travelled through an HPG station and unless the local Comstar Acolytes had the militia's specific encrypted comm channel frequency and encryption key, which was entirely possible, they wouldn't be able to listen in. All the same the coordinates that had been given to us initially had been to direct us to a location where we could sync our uni-directional laser antenna for a completely secure comm link that could only be intercepted if something got between us and the militia dropship at those coordinates, an Excalibur-class vessel named Nightingale, not a huge risk given the vastness of space and the relatively narrow corridor where an interception would be possible. Once established the computer could then make minor adjustments to keep the antenna aligned as we travelled towards the planet, provided the militia ship stayed stationary it was a relatively simple task. After our secure link was established we finally got in touch with our liaison officer, Major Jerome Nelson, who informed us of the latest disposition of the enemy forces, as best they knew, and what their current plans were regarding deployment of our forces. Trinity's Onyx Vagabonds, after failing to capture either of the spaceports at Bascombe, had retreated to repair and rearm before returning for a covert strike against the local HPG station. Both the militia and Martian Cuirassiers, the other mercenary unit currently hired on Concord II, were prepared for another heavy strike at the spaceports and the HPG had been left virtually defenseless with only the token defenses Comstar had put in place to make the place appear guarded. The Vagabonds captured the HPG facility during a night raid with little difficulty and had since shut down all communications coming to or from the planet. The Vagabonds also held all of the Comstar Acolytes and Adepts that had been present as hostages and threatened both the militia and the mercenaries into inaction with the hostages' very lives, going as far as openly killing several to make their point. Aegis Division, technically, was not beholden to the Onyx Vagabonds' threat of inaction, as they were not listed in the threat and therefore from a "legal standpoint" could not be considered responsible for the hostages fate should they take action. While this didn't sit well with Captain Maxwell or myself, Major Nelson did share with us the militia's suspicion that all of the hostages were in fact already dead, although they couldn't prove this and thus could not act on their own. Aegis Division's role now was to approach Concord II continuing to masquerade as a standard merchant vessel, once in atmosphere they would discretely hot drop their 'mechs on approach to Bascombe where they would then land as expected for a trading vessel. The deployed 'mechs meanwhile would advance on the HPG station, located roughly 5km to the Northwest of Bascombe, and retake the facility with a surprise attack, driving off the Vagabonds and resisting any counter-attacks until the militia are able to arrive and secure the HPG station for eventual turnover to Comstar forces. The militia is gathering a number of Comstar Acolytes and Adepts from the various HPG offices across the planet in order to have a team capable of running the HPG station, upon its successful liberation, until Comstar can send new operatives to replace those presumably already lost. Now that we were a mere 4 hours from Concord II and the communication delay was negligible, we had once again gathered in the briefing room, this time aboard the Sturmfänger, and had a 'live feed' connection with Major Nelson displayed on one of the monitors at the front of the Operations room on Deck 2. We were reviewing our modified objectives as they had changed considerably in the past 24 hours and Captain Maxwell and I were now bringing the rest of the team up to speed. "As you can see, our latest intel on the Onyx Vagabonds lists a considerable force that is currently holed up inside the HPG compound located a few kilometers northwest of Bascombe. Their units are expected to be lightly damaged, though I wouldn't count on the Comstar defenders having had put up any major fight. Comstar had yet to send any Com Guard units to our world and the defensive forces present at the HPG were a lance of aged hovertanks and a platoon of infantry, not a real threat to the Vagabonds even if they had been kitted out with the LosTech Comstar supposedly has," reported Major Nelson, his baritone voice carrying well from the newly upgraded speaker system in the briefing room, the seconds long comm delay barely apparent when simply 'reading from the script'. Trinity's Onyx Vagabonds ======================== Leader : Taryne "Trinity" Trifin Tallec - 44 years old (female) Size : Company Task Force 3 BattleMech lances (12 units) 1 Aerospace Squadron (6 units) 1 Infantry Platoon (4 squads, 28 men) 2 Support Vehicle Lances (3 combat units, 5 non-combat units) Lance 1 (Heavy) Lance 2 (Medium) Lance 3 (Heavy) --------------- ---------------- --------------- STC-2C Striker [80] VL-2T Vulcan [40] ON1-VA Orion [75] CRD-3R Crusader [65] GLT-4L Guillotine [70] TDR-5SS Thunderbolt [65] ARC-2R Archer [70] ENF-4R Enforcer [50] AWS-8R Awesome [80] STK-3H Stalker [85] OSR-2C Ostroc [60] GRF-1S Griffin [55] Aerospace Lance 1 Aerospace Lance 2 Aerospace Lance 3 ----------------- ----------------- ----------------- EGL-R9 Eagle [75] SYD-Z2 Seydlitz [20] CHP-W5 Chippewa [90] EGL-R6 Eagle [75] SYD-Z2 Seydlitz [20] SL-17 Shilone [65] Support Vehicle Lance 1 Support Vehicle Lance 2 ----------------------- ----------------------- Partisan (AC2) [80] Pike Support Vehicle [60] Bulldog [60] Mobile HQ [25] 135-K Coolant Truck [30] Sherpa [30] BRV [50] Karnov [30] "We haven't seen their aerospace assets in action since their failed attack on the spaceports some three weeks ago. Since taking the HPG we've spotted both the Eagles and the Seydlitz' on what appears to be routine patrols but the recent storm activity has kept them grounded. What we've managed to get from satellite imagery, when the storms and heavy cloud cover permit, has confirmed all three lances of BattleMechs are stationed at the compound, one lance typically out on patrol, the apparent schedule of which we've forwarded to you. The support vehicles are seen intermittently in the vicinity but are not expected to be a main target, or threat, for your objectives," continued the Major. "The militia and the Martian Cuirassiers are still locked down due to the threat of further harm against the hostages, but as discussed Aegis Division does not have that concern. We have strong reasons to suspect that the Trinity Vagabonds have already executed all of the hostages but until we can positively confirm that our hands are tied. Working on this assumption Aegis Division is meant to perform an orbital insertion of their 'mech assets while enroute to the Maqlae spaceport in Bascombe, the one for mining and trade vessels." "Alright folks, as you can see we've got our work cut out for us. Planned drop zone is 10km east of the HPG station, expecting no more than 2km scatter based on current weather patterns. Assuming maximum scatter our 'mech assets should be regrouped and moving on the station by the time Sturmfänger touches down at Bascombe. Supplemental assets will be deployed immediately and should become effective before the 'mechs hit the HPG," announced Charles as he took over from the Major. "Major Nelson has confirmed we will have access to the planetary satellite network in addition to our own drones and command van based side-scan radar to supplement the topographical maps and local intel we've already received. The storms have really picked up in the last week and we're seeing large temperature swings as expected, currently around 0°C to about -15°C inside of an hour during the storms but otherwise stable," reported Maxwell as displays of weather radar, satellite imagery, and projected wind speeds were displayed. Operating a second screen I pulled up details on our current lance assignments and unit disposition as Captain Maxwell went over each point in detail. Aegis Division Assets ===================== Mech Lance 1 - Blue Lance ------------------------- Captain Charles Maxwell - Eden - King Crab [100] Lieutenant Marius Lennox - Mantis - Marauder [75] Corporal Nicholoas Schuster - Rebus - Orion [75] Technician Idris Nasir - Junaid - ICE-S [0.4] Mech Lance 2 - Green Lance -------------------------- Commander Orlex Jaeger - Bastion - Black Knight [75] Lieutenant Alexander Blackwood - Traveler - Catapult [65] Sergeant Steve Jenkins - Dionysus - Crab [50] Private Jack Whitley - Wicked - Merlin [60] Supplemental Forces - Gold Team ------------------------------- First Lieutenant Alyssa Maxwell - Radar - CIC / Mission Control Specialist Levi Wright - Pandora - Pandora BRV Medic Mallory Aldon - Plato - Pandora BRV / MASH Ambulance Specialist Curie Franklin - Archangel - Pandora BRV / Command Van Reserves - Black Team --------------------- Sergeant Frosty (and team) - Bridgeburners - XCT Infantry squad Sergeant Markus Drake (and team) - Bounty Killer - Patton [65] "Technician Nasir, we've confirmed that your exoskeleton is compatible with the drop pod cocoons and drop system, it is your call if you wish to deploy from orbit with the 'mechs or once planet side with Gold Team. Lance and unit assignments are otherwise as posted, we still have time for some changes if required but make them quick, everyone needs to be loaded up ready for drop pods by 16:00," I confirmed after Charles' spiel about our unit assignments and lance designations, "Are there any further questions?"
    1 point
  25. Industrial Combat Exoskeleton Suit (based on Tornado PA(L) suit) ====================================== Tech Base : Inner Sphere Mass : 400kg Internals : 80kg Slots: 2 LA / 2 RA / 2 Body MP : 1 Manipulators : RA - Armoured Glove LA - Armoured Glove Armour : 2 standard - 125kg (using fractional weight of BattleMech armour - for story/canon reasons at this point in the timeline) BAR Rating : 4M/5B/6E/5X Weapons and Equipment (195kg available) LA - Custom Stealth Gear - 64kg, 1 slot - "mounted" in shoulder armour/pauldron (8x replaceable HC Satchel Power Packs) - stealth gear covers full exoskeleton, just power packs mounted in shoulder Based on ECM/IR combo sneak suit (5kg each, 6E/6I/0C stealth, 1PP/10 min (each), requires external power), requires 8x suits to fully cover exoskeleton, 8x HC Satchel Power Packs(3kg/each) = 25hr duration Weight increased (4x [by increasing # of sneak suits/power packs) to represent increased computer/electronics and for balance compared to stealth armour/camo system on Tornado suit Power requirements increased (4x [to match increased # of suits) to also represent increased needs for larger system (4PP/5min use, 1200PP = 25 hr duration) Stealth disabled if suit takes too much damage (stealth suits have 0M/2B/1E/2X BAR armour, any large tears in the suit renders them inoperable) - if exo looses half its armour stealth is gone - Spotlight (on shoulder) - 5kg, 1 slot - mounted in upper/top of shoulder armour RA - Mission Equipment - 41kg , 1 slot (can store any required additional equipment [including ammo] in/on universal shoulder mount/hip storage box) - shoulder mount is on rear of pauldron, storage box is on right hip/thigh (this weight could also be used to carry personal equipment) - Power Pack (in shoulder) - 25kg, 1 slot - (1500PP, can power 3 smaller devices, or 1 support equipment/weapon if cable is disconnected from armour) - mounted in side of shoulder armour (can provide +10 hours operation (34 hours total) if not used for weapons, support level power cable is plugged into armour for extended duration use) Body - Extended Life Support - 25kg, 1 slot - (+12 hours life support (24 hours total) allows exoskeleton operation in hostile environment) - mounted on small of back - Parafoil - 35kg, 1 slot - mounted between shoulders on back, retractable/reusable parafoil/parachute system Appearance : Loosely based on Starcraft Space Marine Armour but leaning more towards the actual Tornado PA(L) design (similar to XV15 Tau stealthsuit from Warhammer 40K) Custom built unit, with a slightly bulky build (kinda like 40K Power Armour or Colossus from Anthem combined with older "boxier" mass produced Gundams) Has a prototype feel to it, essentially a reinforced exoskeleton with modified BattleMech armour installed on it, not overly form fitting or streamlined Provides full coverage, looks complete and not haphazard but is not streamlined or efficient, more sharp angles instead of smooth curves Large, oversized pauldrons used to house both the spotlight (on top of left shoulder) and power pack (in the side of right shoulder) in respective shoulders Armoured tank on small of back houses Extended Life Support system Armoured universal style external mount on back of right shoulder pauldron for mounting mission specific equipment (can include standard infantry/support weapons, not fireable from this location) Armoured storage box on right hip/thigh provides internal cargo space for storing personal equipment or additional gear for mission Armoured Gloves allow use of any normal infantry weapons (including 1-man support weapons) while still allowing enough support to climb/hang onto handrails with exoskeleton on, retains majority of dexterity
    1 point
  26. MEANWHILE...... On the Bus we bounced all over the place as our bus driver hit every Pot Hole on Damnisha Street. Every time he hit a bump everyone flew up out of their seats and screamed at the same time. It was another normal City road. But it was making me feel really sick and I had to be on my A Game if I was going to figure out how to work The Book when I got back to Site 187. I would have to do something about the Driving." "Hey driver!" I Yelled. "Can't you try not to hit all the Pot Holes?? You don't get bonus points for sinking the shots!!" The driver looked up in his backwards mirror and made a rage face at me. "My job is to drive this Bus! Your job is to sit and ride and be quiet!" Then the driver shifted the Bus into a bunch of bad gears to make the bus make a bunch of terrifying gear grinding noises. The engine slowed down and then made a bunch of groin-grabbing Noises and burped smoke before it sped back up. I went back to passengering and looked at the guy sitting across from me. He was dressed like a Circus Clown and was holding a red balloon. He had a sad look on his face. "Hello! I'm Steve Jenkins!" I said. "Hello." Said the clown. "I'm Meatloaf Johnson. I'm in the circus." "That's awesome, I like your costume, are you Supposed to be Ronald McDonald?" I Said "No I'm Jingles the Balloon Clown. I make Balloon Art." When he said that, the Bus hit another Pot Hole and Meatloaf flew up out of his seat And the balloon bashed against the ceiling and exploded. 4 pieces of confetti trinkled down. "What's that?" Meatloaf/Jingles asked and pointed at The Book. "It's the most Important book in the Universe. The book of the Dead. It can bring people back from the Dead. It also does other Magic tricks." I said. "Wow that's great." Said Meatloaf. "I bet I could make a bunch of money in the Circus with a Magic Book. Can you show me some of the tricks it does??" "Sure!!!" I Said, then I opened The Book to the Sand Page and I held The Book open in front of the floor while sand dumped out for 5 minutes to make a little pile on the floor. "THAT'S AMAZKING!! BUT how do I know you didn't have all that Sand in your sleeve???" "OK fine" I said, then I turned to the Fire Page and pointed The Book up and a huge jet of fire shot out and hit the Ceiling. A bunch of people Screamed. Meatloaf got out a Seltzer bottle and tried to put the Fire out with a tiny spray of water. "WHO THE HELL IS SMOKING ON MY BUS???" Yelled the driver. "NOBODY!!!" I Yelled. "That was pretty cool but how do I know that you don't have a Micro Fusion battery in there, you need to do a trick that's Impossible to hide inside a Book" Said Meatloaf. "OK like what?" I asked. "Make a big animal appear, then I know it's real" said Meatloaf. "I don't know How to do that yet" I said sadly. "The Book is all in Egyptian writing. But I'll try!!" I Said. Then I looked in the Index. There was a page that had a picture of a Snake. I turned to that page and a bunch of cobras suddenly came up out of the pages and Slithered everywhere on the Bus. A bunch ladies screamed and then the Cobras disappeared. "I didn't Get a good look at those" Said Meatloaf. "OK let me try Something Else." I Said. Then I found a page that looked like a Buffalo. I knew what I could do, I would make a Buffalo go by outside!! I opened to the page and waited. All of the sudden I heard a huge CRASH in the bus bathroom and a Dude started yelling. " WHAT THE HELL??" Meatloaf yelled. "I think somebody fell off the Toilet!!" "No I......." I started to say. Then a guy came SCREAMING out of the Bathroom with his pants down and running to the front of the Bus, then a Galax Beefalo came TEARING out of the bathroom with Toilet Paper around its horns and Blue Water on its fur and it went Roaring toward the panted guy. "OH NO!!!" I Screamed "JUMANJI!!" The next thing I Knew the Bus Driver hot a HUGE pot hole and the Beefalo got thew Sideways out of one of the Bus windows with a HUGE EXPLOSION of glass and landed in the Street where it ran away. "That was AMAZING!!!" Said Meatloaf "I Know right??" I said. "SITE 187!!!"The bus driver Bellowed. "This is my stop, nice to meet you Meatloaf!! Gotta go!!" Then I got off the bus and walked up to Site 187 in the Night.
    1 point
  27. RE DUX MEANWHILE........ At Lockupuncture INC The Rickshaw rolled up on the LOCKUPUNCTURE store on Cheetara Street about 45 minutes after we had left the Old As Dirt Antique and Book Store. It had took us so long because the Rikshaw guy had had a hard time going up the bridge in the rain and with lots of cars going by him at a billion miles an hour. And honking their horns, one dude threw a burger and it busted all over him and got Lettuce and Secret Sauce in his hair and then when he Yelled at the dude about it he threw a Watermelon Milkshake too so now the Rickshaw guy had burger mess all over him and Watermelon milkshake. He dumped the Rickshaw down on the ground in front of Lockupuncture which Smashed my gooch and made me yell. "OW I ALREADY GOT WHIPPED IN MY GENITALIA 3 TIMES TODAY AND 1 WAS AN ACTUAL BULL WHIP YOU NEED TO BE MORE CAREFUL HOW YOU PUT DOWN THE CART!!" I screamed "OH SO SORRY!! ' The guy said. "Maybe next timea YOU drive the rickshaw!!" Then he got out an entire pack of cigarettes and started smoking the whole thing at once, I made a face and said "Never mind that!!! How much do I owe you?" The Rickshaw driver smashed a whole bunch of buttons on a calculator and then looked at me and said "25 C-Bills." "25 C-BILLS To drag a cart over a bridge??? I DON'T think so!!" I shouted back. "PLUS TIP!! I HAVE MCWENDYKING BURGER IN MY CLOTHES NOW TOO!!" He answered me sternly. "OK fine, but this is highway robbery, I won't use your company again!" Then I gave him the payment and I went inside the shop. "Hello?? Jimmy Eaton???" I yelled as I looked around the shop, it was a pretty regular job with a workbench in the middle that had all kinds of Grips and power tools and Things for breaking locks. "Steve Jenkins oh my GOD is that you??" Said Jimmy, he popped up from behind the counter with a giant lock in his hand that he was trying to force open with a crowbar. "Yeah it's me, we know each other because were in the same unit back on Archimedes!!" I Said. Jimmy grinned at me and we high fived. Outside the shop I heard a terrible Crash and a dude screaming that he had ran his car into a Rickshaw, I hoped the Rickshaw guy was OK after he had caused that wreck. " What do you need Steve? "Jimmy asked. "I need you to open THIS!!" I Said and then I SLAMMED The Book down on the counter. Jimmy looked at it and then his face twisted up and he started getting this screaming face and then a dim yell started coming out that got louder and louder and louder and louder until it was a full scream at the top of his lungs. Jimmy fell backwards a bunch and then tripped and flipped over the back of the counter and was still Screaming, then he got up and in could see he WA still yelling with all kinds of snot coming out of his nose and his face was red from Screaming. "What is it what's wrong, Jimmy??" Yelled Then Jimmy stopped screaming. "I thought I saw a Spider." He said. "I'm OK now, let's open that Book." 20 MINUTES LATER Jimmy's Table Saw ripped off the lock like nobody's business, then after the leftover metal on The Book cooled down, Jimmy handed me The Book of the Dead. "OK Steve, since you're a Celebrity you should get to open it first." So I took The Book and opened it. The pages were super old and smelled like ass. They had lots of Egyptian writing that I couldn't Read and weird burn marks all around the edges. I turned one page and a bunch of mysterious Sand started running out of the pages, I didn't know where it was coming from. Then I turned another page and all of a Sudden the room got really dark and a bunch of fire started shooting out of the pages!! I Screamed and turned the page again. This one didn't do anything at first but then the room started shaking!! It shook harder and harder and harder and then I started hearing what sounded like a million buzzing bugs coming at me, then the booj surged and all of a sudden a Huge Plague of Locusts started shooting out of the pages filling up the shop with more and more and more locusts!!! The buzzing got SOOOOOO Loud that my ears were bleeding and Jimmy was speaking in tongues!!! " What do we do???" I screamed as I waved my arms around and smashed as many of the locusts as I could into gross yellow and green piles of guts. "I DON'T KNOW!!!" Jimmy Sobbed. "I DONT WANT TO BE A MUMMY!!" "WAIT, I KNOW!!" I Yelled. "JUUUUUUUUUMAAAAAAAAANNNNNNJIIIII!!" Then I slammed The Book and all of the locusts suddenly died and exploded into a billion bug parts all over the shop!! "Oh my god, what was that??" Said Jimmy. "Locusts." I I said. "Thanks for picking the Lock. Now I can go fulfill my Destiny!! Before Jimmy could say anything else I was out the door and waved down a cab back to Site 187, I had to learn how to work The Book before I could use it to save humanity, and my time was running OUT!!
    1 point
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