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[Thom Frankfurt]

07:26 Hours.
Kharkand Technical Academy.
Jarrund City

Calm and peaceful. Cool or levelheaded, and serene. Billy was anything but. He was a raging beast on the inside, wanting to blow out the back of the local Royal, Duke Cedric 'Benedict Arnold' Godwin with his Wolverine's full armament. The mere fact that Vega and the others might turn on him stayed his hand, or it could also be the fact that the Devastator out weighed his mech by a good forty five tons, the same weight of a Phoenix Hawk and probably sported as much armor on it's back as his Wolvie packed on the front.

Clenching and unfolding his fist Billy trotted his Mech along towards the rear of his unit, anxiously waiting for the Duke to make a wrong move...

"Don't even think about it, twerp." Bill grumbled while chancing a glance at his constant changing damage display."

Just hold together a little longer, girl.

[Spokes]

Kharkand Technical Academy
Kharkand, The Periphery
October, 3055 -- 07:28 Hrs

The water hammered down on the hull, the sound of it thrumming and sighing through the control cabin as it coursed over the glacis plate and down onto the street below. It carried away the crusted topsoil, the small, embedded pieces of the Commando and Mongoose, and the last remaining patches of the charred, gray paint, leaving the bare armor to shine a dull silver in the early morning light.

Li couldn't make herself look away from the haz camera screen, could see her reflection overlayed on the image of the Scorpion's submerged foot. Red rimmed, wild eyes stared back at her through the neurohelm's transparent viewport. She forced herself to blink, and the reflection blinked back. Look at what you are. Look at what you've done. The water swirled through the cul-de-sac, covered the shattered sections of pavement, washed away the rubble and the bone and the blood.

But not the guilt.

The sound of the water was painfully loud in the cockpit, and it masked the gentle, not-quite sobbing well enough. The image of the boy with the rifle lingered in her mind, and try as she might it wouldn't let go. How close had she come to being on the other side of this war? Her contract had been for logistical support and maintenance, but how long would that have lasted in the face of a determined insurgency?

Li screwed her eyes shut against the image on the screen. If her DropShip hadn't been diverted, that boy and the rest of those men would still be alive. And Havok and the others, they would be shooting at her right now.

And she would be shooting at them. Her mind offered up another image, a broken Cicada lying against a burning tree. Somehow that one wasn't as bad, the wrecked BattleMech not as hard on her conscience as the face of the young soldier.

Li realized with a start that she had no idea what the other members of her adopted unit even looked like.

Hands moved over the console almost unbidden, slowly at first, then quick, familiar motions. Screens cleared, systems reset, the computer staggering to its feet at Li's not-so-gentle urging. The lull in the violence was sure to be brief-- she needed to get moving again.

"Virgil, cycle breakers twenty through twenty three." Two quick tones in the headset-- the warning light on the IR system winked out, the primary display swimming slowly back to life. The view on the main screen was tilted slightly to starboard, courtesy of the embedded foot. That was a problem. . .too much lateral pressure might damage the ankle joint as the foot pulled free.

A few hard blinks, a single deep breath. Though it was an often held belief that MechWarriors were mentally linked to their BattleMechs, the stories of pilots controlling their machines as if they were giant suits of armor were pure fiction. But every good lie holds within it a small kernel of truth-- with enough practice, discipline and no small amount of programming, the neurohelmet could be used for a lot more than simple balance.

Li concentrated, focused on the practiced mnemonics, her brain and the muscles in her scalp suddenly producing electrical patterns that the computer could recognize through the sensors lining the inside of the helmet. Each pattern kicked a pre-programmed software macro through the computer, and the computer kicked back in turn, the gentle, fleeting buzz of neural feedback its way of saying, I hear you. A bit of back pressure on the throttle and the Scorpion shifted its weight off the right front leg. Another mnemonic dropped the right leg controls onto the D-stick that normally handled the elevation on the particle cannon. Li pulled back gently on the stick, physical resistance through the control where before there had been none. The leg lifted, hesitated, pulled straight up from the ground in a shower of water and pavement. Another mnemonic, and the armored toes hinged upward, hesitated, surged into the armored foot and crushed the fragments of roadbed lodged inside. The lower leg swung through two quick arcs, sending the debris flying.

Li eased the throttle forward and the Scorpion settled back down onto all four legs. A final mnemonic reset the controls back to their default configuration and she throttled up, sending Virgil across the flooded roadway at a quick trot. . .

[Sparks Murphey]

07:26 Hours.
Kharkand Technical Academy.
Jarrund City

“Havok, I really don’t think we should just trust him,” Nathan said through gritted teeth, “The b****** was right there at the start of Leofric’s coup. He probably passed Leofric the gun. Thousands are dead because of him. We should take him prisoner, not follow his orders!”

He positioned the Dervish’s crosshairs on the brackets marking the Devastator’s position, ready to fire as soon as Havok gave the order. The targeting computer didn’t appear convinced though, refusing to acquire a lock and instead painting a blue X over his target, while the word “Verbündete” flashed immediately next to it. He cursed quietly, wondering if he had time to pull out the manual to find out how to override the system.

Before Nathan could decide, he saw two figures emerge from a nearby building, one looking strangely familiar. He toggled the Dervish’s zoom function and his fears were confirmed: it was his eldest daughter, Maggie, along with a young man he didn't recognise. What she was doing in the middle of a battlefield he couldn’t fathom, but with Cedric out there this was probably the worst time for her appearance.

How to tell her to get out of sight? He couldn’t use the exterior speakers without drawing Cedric’s attention to her. Taking direct control of the arms, he clumsy waved one of the Dervish’s paddle “hands” up and down, trying to convey that Maggie should get in cover.

She stopped uncertainly, then waved back.

“Yes, it’s lovely to see you too,” Nathan muttered, before dropping the Dervish to a crouch and bringing it’s arms up to cover it’s head, like the 55 ton machine was cowering. She got the message this time, gave him the thumbs up, and pulled the man she was with back into the building.

Nathan wondered if that could be the potential boyfriend his wife Julia had mentioned, before turning his attention back to what was going on with Cedric and his ill-gotten Devastator.

[Janitor101]

07:26 Hours.
Kharkand Technical Academy.
Jarrund City
6.5 Kilometers from the Marble Palace.

--

“Havok,” Shepard rasped though Antonio’s speakers. “Wha’ the bloudy hell’s gooing on? I dinna ken he was oone of us? Ye orders?”
Antonio checked to ensure that they were on a private comm channel before responding.

“Up until a few moments ago that’s what I thought.” Antonio stopped to recheck his battlegrid.

“Look at BattleGrid Tactical Update #3811, Orders to not engage Duke Cedric Godwin under any circumstances.” Antonio paused, it didn’t give any more reason then that, just to not engage.
The f.eck?
Antonio’s comm pinged with another private comm, this time from Fishy.
“Shepard, keep an eye on our local royalty, wouldn’t want anything to happen to him.” Antonio knew that Shepard would keep his head on a swivel, he was a good mechwarrior.

Antonio keyed his comm to Fishy, ending the line with Shepard.
“Havok, I really don’t think we should just trust him,” Fishy started, pausing for a moment before continuing.
“The b****** was right there at the start of Leofric’s coup. He probably passed Leofric the gun. Thousands are dead because of him. We should take him prisoner, not follow his orders!”

“I agree with you, but this is way out of my hands, check the Grid, Tac Update #3811 from command makes him untouchable. Not just for us, but for every unit on the field on our side. I’d love to plug the sunofab!tch for what he’s done and ordered. But we can’t, just keep watch on him, it’s all I can order right now.”

Antonio heard a disgusted grunt from the comm before Fishy severed the link on his end. Havok recorded a status update to upload to the Grid, including a official protest that Duke Cedric was being allowed to fight on the field instead of being taken prisoner for his crimes.



--




07:41 Hours.
Jarrund Mall.
Jarrund City
4 Kilometers from the Marble Palace.

--

Antonio followed Duke Cedric as he trudged out of the city and onto the Jarrund Mall, the large strip of ground that had been dedicated to the freedom of Kharkand by Archduke Maerec after the liberation of the planet from Alfonso. Several monuments had been erected over the years since that event, the most prominent being the Arch of Triumph that stood in the middle of the mall, right in the center of the heaviest fighting.

Havok activated the zoom function in his HUD, the Arch had taken several hits, one of which looked to have been caused by a crashing aircraft.
Two of the three words that Maerec had resquested be inscribed upon the arch had been blown away, Honor and Responsibility were missing. The only word left that was readable was the Ancient English word ‘Afol’ which Antonio had been told meant Strength, or Power.
Antonio felt a shiver run down his spine, he hoped that it was an omen describing the Strength to overcome.


Duke Cedric’s voice buzzed over the company channel.
“Loyalist units near the Arch, 11th Armored Company and the 7th Triumvir Guard, plus infantry."

Antonio called up the last known rosters for the mentioned units and shot them to the rest of the company.

The 11th Armored consisted of a Rommel command tank, two Pattons, a trio of Po’s and a pair of Partisan Heavy AA’s.
While the 7th Triumvir was made up of an Enforcer 4R, an old Panther 8Z, a Jenner D variant and a Commando 1B.

Antonio flicked through the list of allied units that were assaulting the loyalist defensive position on the mall, only one stood out. The 23rd Armored Company, commanded by Captain Melvin Sullivan, though their numbers had been reduced since Antonio had heard from Captain Sullivan at Eddiesburg, their operational strength was listed at 5 Zhukovs.


--


Captain Sullivan coughed as he wrenched the hatch open letting the smoke billow out past him and hauled his gunner out of his crippled tank, and with a measure of gentleness, tossed the unconscious subordinate to the ground and leapt down after him, dragging him away from the burning tank.
Melvin didn’t bother going back, the driver, radioman and loader had been killed by the Gauss rifle shot that had killed his tank, proven by the splattered blood and gore on Melvin’s trousers.

And as if to further the reasons to not go back. His tank’s ammunition cooked off, lifting the double barreled turret into the sky on a plume of smoke and fire.

At least Jerry had hit the feckin' static Gauss rifle emplacement. He thought as he dragged Jerry toward Lt Barker’s Zhukov.



-----


Map Update. (I did it late at night while I was tired, if I screwed something up, let me know and I'll correct)

MALL MAP UPDATE.

Hostiles are as listed:
12th Armored Company: (AT RANGE: 650m, most vehicles are dug in, Pattons and Rommel are mobile, but in cover)
x1 Rommel Heavy Tank, Commander Morgan Ellis
x2 Patton Heavy Tanks
x3 Po Heavy Tanks
x2 Partisan Heavy AA Tank

7th Triumvir Guard: (AT RANGE: 575m, Commando and Jenner are marauding and killing allied infantry and soft targets, Panther and Enforcer are engaging allied armored units with great effect.)
Enforcer ENF-4R, Lieutenant Friedrich Martin
Panther PNT-8Z
Jenner JR7-D
Commando COM-1B

(NOTE: Assume there are more AncientTech type weapons on the field like the high caliber AT guns we encountered earlier, feel free to kill a few along with hostile infantry or whatever, standard engagement rules on the armored units and mechs)

Roughly seven hundred infantrymen on the ground around the arch in heavily dug in and fortified positions. Prime of which is/was a Gauss Rifle emplacement, but the plume of smoke rising from it suggests it won’t be a threat anymore.

Several ASFs are howling overhead, friendly and not. Helicopters and VTOLs from both sides are making strafing runs on their opponents.

There are allied units that are pushing the Jarrun Mall Strongpoint, but any battlemechs present are damaged, not in enough numbers or too light to make enough of a difference. We are the most intact Mech unit present. Discounting the hostile mechs.


Picture something not too dissimilar to the National Mall in D.C. for this location, except larger with more public park spaces that have been turned into a rat’s nest of WWI esque trenches, littered wrecked tanks and other broken machinery.
Artillery shells, missiles and other ordinance is almost constantly detonating, either on/around the soldiers fighting, or hitting the buildings surrounding the Mall.

For any characters that have been on Kharkand for long, they’ve been to this place at least once, it was the choice location for almost any public event, and as such it was the location where the Jarrund Massacre took place.

@Fishy/Sparks: Nathan should have an exceedingly painful reaction to seeing the Mall as the site for such a brutal battle.

Edited by Janitor101, 13 July 2014 - 07:51 AM.

[The Shepherd]

07:41 Hours.
Jarrund Mall.
Jarrund City
4 Kilometers from the Marble Palace.

“Sweet winds ‘o’ Tara…”

“Loyalist units near the Arch, 11th Armored Company and the 7th Triumvir Guard, plus infantry."

Striding out from around the bulk of Cedric’s Devastator, James gawked at the battlefield before him.

He’d never been to the Jarrund Mall before in person, but before signing on with the Resistance, he’d looked over as many of the Kharkandian points of interest as he could find.
The scenic parks and gardens lovingly captured in the tourism holos were completely gone. Fires burned where ordinance had detonated, craters of scorched earth pockmarked the ground and lines of trenches stretched along the churned up parklands.

At his Raven’s feet, tank tracks scored the ground, leading his eyes, and seconds later his sensors, along a path of destruction to where the hostile tanks were lined some 650m away.
A Rommel and two Pattons pinged immediately on his screen, alternating fire from behind cover at both the countering line of friendly Zhukovs off to their right and the rag tag assortment of units to their left. More tanks came up as he kept stalking sideways to get a better view of the field. Po’s were dug in forward and below the heavier tanks with Partisan Anti-Air units holding the rear of the defensive line and providing anti-air support.
Scores of infantry, light transport vehicles and primitive gun emplacements dotted the rest of the landscape, effectively flooding his sensor screen’s Tac-Map with blue and red lights. Flicking a few filter switches, he ensured only major combat units showed up.

Four hostile mechs now displayed with highest priority, his sensors completing their loadout scan. Indeed he could see them, four figures towering over the fixed emplacements and sluggishly maneuvering forces. Two were standing back, holding the right flank and laying down supporting fire into the Zhukov line, while two more were using their speed to strike at infantry and other soft targets amongst the other friendlies.
Havok’s roster info for the hostile units showed on his secondary screen. Everything lined up. He confirmed the report by shooting a matching scan straight back out to the company, distancing himself from the ambling Devastator. He was certain their arrival to the field had not gone unnoticed and the goodly Duke was likely to become the focus of attention. He'd shadowed Cedric throughout their advance under the guise of protecting his rear, per Havok's instruction. Now though, being anywhere near the assault mech while it waded into the fight was a sure way of catching an autocannon burst in the face.

Moving off along the border of the mall towards the infantry line where the enemy light mechs were wreaking hell, he grimaced at the whole bloody scene.

“Fish, a’m suu sorry lad,” he intoned over the company channel as the rest of them emerged behind him from the building line to view the field, “nuubody’s home should look like this ‘ere.
Let’s get into et aye Havok? Respectfully suggest we mid th’ collateral, enough damage’s been dun ‘ere as et is.”

Edited by The Shepherd, 01 July 2014 - 02:24 PM.

[Thom Frankfurt]

07:41 Hours.
Jarrund Mall.
Jarrund City
4 Kilometers from the Marble Palace.

“Loyalist units near the Arch, 11th Armored Company and the 7th Triumvir Guard, plus infantry." Sounded off the Turncoated Duke second before the Wolverine voiced out: Warning, multiple threats detected.

"No sh*t. Oh you don't say..." Bill shot back at the Wolverine.

It didn't take fancy sensor sweeps, or even a pair of binoculars to tell that the Jarrund Mall was a warzone. A moonscape of crater strewn area made up the mass where the Mall's green used to be, and crisscrossed with lines of breastworks and World Waresque trenches. Even from this distance Billy was able to make out the defensive points dotted with machine gun operated pill boxes, recoilless rifles, mortar squads, and squads of men operating various rifles, man packed PPCs, and flamers. Yes it seemed that every grunt or yahoo that could hold a rifle was dug in before the Arch.

I'd kill to have a few Firestarters or Vulcans on our side right now...

Overhead fighters zipped across the sky loosing swarms of missiles upon their rival fighters while under them VTOL gunships hovered above the battlefield venting their rage, frustration, and destructiveness upon targets of opportunity, picking off wounded tanks and exposed infantry. A dozen or so Loyalists tanks lay hulled down, vomiting the fire and death of autocannon or Hellish Particle cannon fire at anything foolish enough to rear its ugly head, while a lance of mechs roamed the battlefield bullying soft targets or bolstering up the Loyalist defenses.

Bill winced as a nearby blossom of erupting earth splattered clods of dirt against his cockpit's canopy. Several more eruptions tossed up more earth as more artillery hammered into the battle.

Suddenly the Wolverine's malfunctioning sensors lit up with targeting and unit data provided by the Highlander's Raven, snapping Billy out of looking over the killing fields. Looking the data over, he was rewarded with the gloomy news that his shot up unit was the most combat effective one of the rebel forces.

“Fish, a’m suu sorry lad,” the Highlander intoned over the company channel, “nuubody’s home should look like this ‘ere.
Let’s get into et aye Havok? Respectfully suggest we mid th’ collateral, enough damage’s been dun ‘ere as et is.”

Several plans of attack raced through Bill's head as he surveyed their options. All were bleak and ended with grizzly losses, but if they were to break the Loyalist forces it would have to be here and now. With that in mind, he waited in for Havoc or the Duke to issue orders, but none came. After waiting for what seemed like an eternity, with no orders coming forth and his rage building while watching the enemy Enforcer/Panther duo continuing to pick off armored units, Bones opened up a line on the company channel.

"Shepard, see if you can get those ordnance men on the line, and see if you can get them to direct some pain towards them dug in tanks. That looks like the defender line's linchpin and they're going to put some serious hurt to anyone getting nearby." He winced as the Enforcer's 100mil Federated 10 autocannon savaged one the remaining friendly Zhukov's severing it's right side track.

"That Enforcer is really pissing me off," Bill hissed out in a burst while inching his Wolvering forward a few steps, ignoring the flashing icons representing malfunction systems and that he just said that over the company channel. "Sir! permission to engage? Come on, 'cry Havok, and let slip the dogs of war!'" He pleaded, quoting Marc Anthony."

Edited by Thom Frankfurt, 05 July 2014 - 09:56 PM.

[Spokes]

Jarrund Mall, Jarrund City
Kharkand, The Periphery
October, 3055 -- 07:41 Hrs

“Fish, a’m suu sorry lad,” The words are pinched, tinny, the auxiliary antenna far too close to the magnetic gale of Virgil's nuclear heart. “Nuubody’s home should look like this ‘ere."

"Let’s get into et aye Havok? Respectfully suggest we mid th’ collateral, enough damage’s been dun ‘ere as et is.”

Li pulled her Scorpion to a crawl along with the others, the scene in front of them not so much one huge conflagration as it was a broad series of individual disasters. Here an aerofighter floundered overhead, trailing fire from one engine and smoke from the other. There a tank spilled its starboard track out behind it, its life now measured in the seconds it took for its assailant to cycle its guns. Tracers flashed, mortars thumped, fires burned and smoke billowed.

And no one seemed to know where to even start.

The icons on the tactical screen flickered and jumped as the computer struggled to pull data from Shepherd's Raven through the EMI of a 25 ton fusion reactor, the system finally giving up and kicking a brief error message back to the recon 'Mech. The battle unfolded soundlessly on the displays in the control cabin, Virgil's external microphones having been seared off along with the primary comm antenna and left behind in that scorched back road. The hazard cameras were programmed to focus in on motion, and they dutifully flipped back and forth, to running soldiers, and faces, and parts, the images accompanied by the eerie wail of the wounded radio. Cedric's Devastator waded forward, seemed oblivious to the shells that had started to land around it, smoke from the Duke's return fire coiling around the assault 'Mech's legs.

The radio hissed and spat. One of the haz cams snapped up, focused briefly on a damaged VTOL, settled on the arch near the center of the loyalist defensive line. The etching on the archway had been neatly obliterated-- only a single word remained. 'Afol'. An archaic word for power.

Li blinked, looked back up at the arch through the wider view offered by the primary display.

"Sir! Permission to engage? Come on, 'Cry Havok, and let slip the dogs of war!'" A volley of mortar fire dropped down on the infantry struggling to advance through the trenchwork.

Vuolsi così colà, dove si puote.

So it is wanted, there were the power lies.

Li's face hardens behind the mask of the neurohelmet, eyes lingering on the charred and ruined photographs tucked into the console, finger drumming on the guard over the PPC trigger. She keys the company channel.

"Home is people Shep." Her thumb stabs down on the firing stud.

There is a deep hum as the Anderson Type 12 discharges, the pencil thin, blue-white beam flashing out above the trench work, over the burning Zhukov, past Lord Cedric's Devastator and over the enemy lines before finally caressing the thick stonework at the base of the Arch. The proton beam hangs in the air for a fleeting moment, the electrical charge causing the lone inscription to glow softly in a burst of St. Elmo's fire. And then the beam explodes in a surge of power that blows the base of the monument completely away.

Virgil was old, a relic from another era, its bones laid down long before the time of Alfonso Knaggs or Leofric the Cruel, possibly before humanity had even settled on this world. Centuries of exposure to hard vacuum and the temperature swings that came with it had taken their toll, and the insulated frame of the particle cannon's field inhibitor no longer sat completely flush with the weapon. As the monument began to slide over, weary and defeated, to crash down among the loyalist troops dug in beneath it, a terrible noise began to build inside the BattleMech. The warped inhibitor could no longer contain the electrical blow back along the beam, and the housing began to vibrate with the build up, resonating as if it were a reed in some terrible, supernal instrument. The banshee shriek of it permeated the battlefield, momentarily drowning out the sound of gun fire and collapsing masonry, causing friend and foe alike to turn and stare at the source of the noise, now wreathed in electrical discharge.

Warning horns blare and hairs stand on end. There is a loud THUNK, felt more than heard, as the Scorpion's emergency grounding rod fires into the blood soaked soil of the Jarrund Mall. Li stares, her hearing mostly spared by the neurohelmet's cutouts, as a final BOOM sounds out over the mall and the monument finishes cascading into a blinding cloud of dust and pulverized stone. . .

Edited by Spokes, 14 July 2014 - 10:41 PM.

[Sparks Murphey]

Jarrund Mall, Jarrund City
Kharkand, The Periphery
October, 3055 -- 07:41 Hrs

...And the war came with a curse and a caterwaul...

“Fish, a’m suu sorry lad, nuubody’s home should look like this ‘ere,” came Shepherd’s voice over the comms, “Let’s get into et aye Havok? Respectfully suggest we mid th’ collateral, enough damage’s been dun ‘ere as et is.”

It wasn’t the first time the Mall had looked like this, nor even the first time Nathan personally had seen it looking like this. He remembered the dark days a decade and a half ago when as a young father he had watched the Godwin brothers carve out their Triumvirate against the will of the old regime. Not quite from this vantage point, admittedly; the bulk of the fighting was over before he’d been there in person, and he hadn’t been in a towering war machine. But he remembered the devastation, the blood still staining torn pavement, the acceptance that this was just another day. Before that there’d been the Battle of Adrahn Tax, and before that the Briefcase Rebellion, and before that Stewart Road… Kharkand’s history was littered with petty battles and massacres.

...And the war came with all the poise of a cannonball…

“Shepard, see if you can get those ordnance men on the line, and see if you can get them to direct some pain towards them dug in tanks. That looks like the defender line's linchpin and they're going to put some serious hurt to anyone getting nearby,” said Billy as the loyalists prepared another small thrust at the Zhukovs, “That Enforcer is really pissing me off. Sir! permission to engage? Come on, ‘cry Havok, and let slip the dogs of war!’”

That was why the Godwins were different, and what the Arch of Triumph at the centre of the Mall stood for. Maerec had stopped the endless cycle of war and death. You could catch a bus without worrying about being blown up in protest against the government, could loiter in the Mall, this Mall, without secret police rounding you up for an interrogation about where your sympathies lay. People had started to change, to hope, to live. For fifteen years, Kharkand had known peace, only for Leofric to turn that around and shatter their dreams with a return to fear; a warlord and murderer, like the rest.

...And they're picking out our eyes by coal and candlelight…

“Home is people Shep,” Li added simply over the comm, a bolt of lightning from her machine striking the base of the Arch of Triumph, toppling the monument.

Li was right. The devastation of Jarrund Mall was painful, but for its symbolism of betrayal rather than for the physical damage itself. They were fighting here for the people of Kharkand. The Mall could be rebuilt, would be rebuilt, but first the loyalists needed to be put down before they broke the spirit of the Kharkandan people and returned them to acceptance of a life in fear.

Nathan wasn’t waiting for an order. Every second that ticked by, more people died for Leofric’s greed and wrath. After the battle, he could be a carpenter again and set to rebuilding. For now, he held the tools of a soldier, and he’d defend those fighting for the future of Kharkand.

“Ziel erworben. LSRs gesperrt.”

“Engaging the Enforcer,” Nathan called through clenched teeth over the comms as he ran the Dervish forward, even as the battlefield shrieked from the electrical discharge from Li’s tortured Scorpion. He triggered the missiles as the HUD flashed to indicate the Enforcer had come under maximum range. The hostile ‘Mech twisted immediately, but seemed confused about where the missiles where coming from. The warheads blossomed into explosions up it’s right side and rear. It staggered, then righted itself and turned towards where the Havoks had emerged onto the battlefield. The two light ‘Mechs in the lance turned too and began dashing towards them.

...When the war came, the war came hard.

[The Shepherd]

Jarrund Mall, Jarrund City
Kharkand, The Periphery
October, 3055 -- 07:41 Hrs

As his Raven stalked up the street and in behind the Zhukov line, James wondered where on earth he should start. Direct TAG on the mechs for Fishy? Flank the lines and get eyes on the rear of the emplacements? Distract the light mechs to ease the pressure on the infantry?

“Shepard, see if you can get those ordnance men on the line, and see if you can get them to direct some pain towards them dug in tanks. That looks like the defender line's linchpin and they're going to put some serious hurt to anyone getting nearby,”
It was Billy, growling over the company line in the absence of standing orders.
“That Enforcer is really pissing me off. Sir! permission to engage? Come on, ‘cry Havok, and let slip the dogs of war!’”
He’d normally have snorted in jest at the well placed pun, but in front of him, the Loyalists were soberingly forming up for a push on their line.

It was as good an idea as any. He hunkered his mech down in the cover provided by the now immobilised Zhukov in front of him and set his comms suite scanning the Battlecomputer for an active friendly Indirect Fire Support frequency. The line dropped in once it had found a voice screaming over the ring of artillery shell casings ejecting.
“-less! Just useless! Even if we hit anywhere close to... BOOM-kaCHINGka ...close to the dug ones, the heavies and those mechs and are going to push straight... BOOM-kaCHINGka ...straight through us!”

“Ye maintain fire lad!” James yelled into his mike after boosting the gain on his signal, knowing it would be needed for the artilleryman to make out what he was saying, “Heelp is on th’ weey. Sendin’ a grouse firein’ solution nuu. Zero in on ‘em!”
Fingers flying over his secondary screen’s keyboard, James fed the information on the dug in line from his mech’s sensors to his comm suite and keyed his Beagle Active Probe’s powerful computer to calculating a parabolic firing angle for the specific artillery pieces still in play, based on what his normal sensors had already cross referenced against the information pre-fed into his Battlecomputer.
He grunted in satisfaction as the BAP pinged completion within 3 seconds and mashed the “SEND IT” key he’d hand written the label for and stuck over the previously Chinese symbol.
Grabbing his attention, a blinking light next to the company data feed indicated a failed sensor info send notification from Spokes’ Scorpion, and heralded her tinny voice prying open the company channel.

"Home is people Shep."

He froze and looked up.
Blue light illuminated his cockpit and the particle beam disappeared into the Arch before he could figure out what had happened.
But that wasn't why he sat and stared agape.

A wailing sound penetrated his canopy glass as he watched the monument crumble away, but that wasn't what he heard.
Spokes’ words repeated themselves again in his mind, contrasting the material destruction unfolding before him.

“Home is people Shep.”

“Home is people Shep.”

“Home. Is. People.”

Amplifying the poignance, everything around him stopped.
The shooting stopped.
The comm chatter stopped.
People, stopped.

Out of the stillness, far to his left, one man stepped forward for his home.

“Engaging the Enforcer.”

Fishy’s simple call on the company channel, palpable in tone and dripping with significance, birthed in James a replacement paradigm for that which was killed by Spokes’ own words moments before.

Signing onto this particular contract was a desperate attempt to keep his mech running. But he’d struck out on his own, away from his former home, his people, to learn how to pilot and understand a light mech, how to beat one, to atone for mistakes only he knew he’d made.
He’d lost sight of his original intentions coming to this planet. Even now though, fully aware of his original purpose, he realised he was wrong. He’d been wrong all along.

He wasn’t here to be a better light pilot.
He didn’t pick a Raven because it was the furthest thing from a Highlander he could find.
He wasn’t even here in punishment for failing his people, failing his home.
He was here to learn what it meant to protect people. To guide them to their own purposes. To blaze that dangerous trail others wouldn’t or couldn't tread.
To Shepherd those who needed his protection.

Choosing that callsign for himself was an exercise in expectant arrogance. Until now he’d worn it as an unwitting wolf in sheep’s clothing, assuming that calling yourself something made it somehow so.
Now, on this battlefield, from standing in line with these people he barely knew, James also stepped forward for his home, his people.

His flock.

Missiles rained on the Enforcer as the action resumed around him, lashing out with the fury of a blinded predator.

“The mechs are moving!” It was the artilleryman again, channel still open, “We need to pull back!”

“NO!” James barked as he slammed his throttle forward, “Ye stand an’ fight like a good lad. Fire on yer given solutions nuu and keep theeir heads doon. Leave the mechs te me!”

The Jenner and Commando had pushed forward to engage them. And there was no way James was letting these wolves anywhere near his home.

With a cry of rage, his comms unit defaulting back to the company channel, James rushed to intercept the two mechs.
The Commando was closest and had only a fraction of a second to twist and face the newcomer before it was spear tackled at 95kph by a shoulder charging Raven.

Like a cue ball on a billiard table, the Raven stopped dead in mid air, transferring all of its forward momentum to the ten-ton-lighter mech. James was rag-dolled around his cockpit a second time when his mech dropped to the ground completely horizontal as the Commando was thrown across the field, right into the legs of its partnering Jenner.
Tripped up, the heavier mech crashed bodily to the ground, its jutting forward torso furrowing into the churned dirt.
The Commando just kept rolling and bouncing

Spitting blood and shaking off a concussion, James roared again and fought to stand his damaged mech up.

The fight for his home was just beginning.

[Janitor101]

07:41 Hours.
Jarrund Mall.
Jarrund City
4 Kilometers from the Marble Palace.

---

Lieutenant Friedrich Martin clapped his hands to his ears as a piercing wail clawed at his ears, before his neurohelmet registered a high volume sound and dampened it down to a tolerable decibel.
His ears still ringing, Friedrich took a moment to finish killing the rebel halftrack and its former infantrymen occupants before setting his computer to locate the source of the god-awful screech.

The rolling rumble, combined with pings of seismic activity told Friedrich that the rebels had collapsed the Arch.
He punched the lance comm channel, as he turned toward the two lances of rebel battlemechs that had entered the mall from the south.
“Carver, Brauer, Connell. Form on me, we have more traitors to kill.”

Friedrich accelerated his Enforcer, a dull metallic ching accompanied with a ping from his computer told that his AC/10 had reloaded. A whining tone warned of incoming LRMs from the rebel mechs.

---


07:42 Hours.
Jarrund Mall.
Jarrund City
4 Kilometers from the Marble Palace.

---

Duke Cedric smirked as the arch collapsed, causing almost all the aerial units to break off and escape the battle area. At least one loyalist helicopter had a roughly fist sized chunk of rubble punched through its engine, the aircraft spin out of control until it smashed into the ground in a fiery explosion.

Cedric took aim at the nearest loyalist fortification and fired his AC/10s, each round blowing large holes in the prefab structure, Loyalist infantry started evacuating the structure, knowing that staying meant dying.
Cedric laughed as he ripped the large lasers across another fortification, slagging structure and vaporizing an entire squad of infantry attempting to escape it.
As a Commando pilot, he’d been vulnerable to everything on the field. In a Devastator, he felt like a god of war.
As if to punctuate his line of thought, a series of small explosions rippled across the chest of his mech, doing nothing more than removing paint and lightly rumbling the armor.
Another laugh echoed through the Devastator’s cockpit as he annihilated more loyalist soldiers.

---

Antonio winced as the shrieking echoed through his hearing, shocking him out of his dumbfounded trance staring at the remains of the mall.

The Arch crumbled and slid to the ground with a rumble and a crash.

Antonio shook away the horror and shock of seeing the Mall as a blasted pock marked battlefield, and focused his attention on what the people under his command were doing. Shepard and Fishy had started engaging the oncoming Loyalist lance of mechs, while Bones was pulling at the chain to kill the Enforcer.

“Bones, go. Help Shepard, keep him alive. Mist, you go too.” Antonio ordered into his microphone.

Bones had hardly received the go before his mech was moving to intercept the enemy Enforcer, Mist lumbered along behind the Wolverine.


“Shade, Spokes, on me, we’re going to try and use Duke Cedric’s headlong charge to our advantage, lets see if we can kill some tanks.”

Havok accelerated, moving off to the left side and far behind the Devastator, all the while peering out into the loyalist lines, looking for the turrets of enemy tanks.


--

“You best fix this god damned gun, before I load you into it and see what happens when I fire!”

Percival winced at the threat his superior had slung his way, Lt. Konovalev wasn’t usually abusive. But the Gauss Rifle he was attempting to repair was integral to any defense at the Jarrund Mall.
Percival wiped sweat and grease off his face, the rebel tank that had landed the disabling shot had damaged and destroyed several of the capacitors that powered the weapon

“Wally! Get me some of the spare capacitors!” Percival shouted over his shoulder.



-----




Enforcer and Panther are roughly 400m from the Havoks engaging the Loyalist mechs.

Jenner and Commando are closer, per Shepard’s post, roughly 350m.

Cedric is about 200m from the loyalist lines, closest to where the Po’s are parked.


Go ahead and start fighting, let me know if you need any more information.

[Thom Frankfurt]

Jarrund Mall, Jarrund City
Kharkand, The Periphery
October, 3055 -- 07:41 Hrs

"Home is people Shep." Li's voice cracked over the company channel, sounding tiny and otherworldly, like a voice from beyond the grave, but the words had a certain tone to them telling of the Scorpion pilot's conviction to the statement. To emphasize her point the oddball quad mech unleashed a blue blast of charged particles that shot across the warzone.

Flying through columns of greasy black smoke from felled tanks, flying debris from destructive arty explosions, and zipping by VTOL gunships to smash into the base of the Arch with all the might of a bolt of lightning hurled by some thunder god.

From his obsessing on the enemy Enforcer, Bill barely saw the shot out of the corner of his eye. Turning his head in time to blink away the after images of the manmade lightning, he caught the Arch's fall. It started with a low groaning sound, as if the very soil of Kharkand was protesting to all the wanton death and destruction. Cracking and crumbling the Triumph Arch cascaded down with all the grace of thousands of tons of ferrocrete could. The impact of the structure's weight rippled through the earth causing several dilapidated buildings to finally surrender their own struggle with gravity. Bill found himself like many of the other witnesses; slack jawed and staring in disbelief as the dust threatened to cloak the battlefield.

“Engaging the Enforcer.” Fishy called out on the company line as he stepped his Dervish forward to loose a score of high arching missiles at Billy's newest-most-hated-foe. Nudging his Wolverine forward a few steps, he was ready to join in the Enforcer's death as the beak nosed blur of Shepard's Raven passed before his mech racing off to the fray. Remembering his place, Bill cast a hasty look to Havok and the cloak-spinning noble for orders, but none came, and he looked back at Shep's sprinting Raven shoulder blocking into the Loyalist Commando and Jenner in a matter that'd make any Solaris gladiator envious.

“Bones, go." Feeling like the leash just slipped, Bill slammed the throttle full forward at Havok's pause, barely noticing the rest. "Help Shepard, keep him alive. Mist, you go too.”

With a feral growl, Bill raced the Wolverine off following the Raven's footprints. Up ahead the avian named mech struggled to regaining it's feet even as the two Loyalist mechs also labored to regain theirs. He couldn't have that. Ignoring the angry red strobing lights coming from his lit up damage display, Bones mashed down on the trigger for his short ranged weaponry. Three emerald green beams shot out with two missing the now rising Commando. The other zapped away at the Lyran designs breast, slagging armor before digging away at it's robotic innards while four of the six short ranged missiles from his 'malfunctioning' missile launcher drummed away at the pitted mangled armor.

Suddenly blossoming orange red explosions from numerous places, including it's head the light mech fell back as high spinning bits of slag covered metal shot out of the rented armor. But Bones wasn't even checking his handiwork, he was already bringing the Wolverine's foot back for a kick on the struggling Jenner even as the signs of battle started to pick up again with incoming arty rounds booming in the distance.

With a sickening crunch the Wolverine's foot caved in even as it cracked into where the Jenner's collarbone should have been, right where the forward thrusting head met the mech's body, the long neck jarred to the side under the impact, hinting at internal damage. Bill blinked away droplets of sweat, but he was already springing into action, stabbing out an arm and loosing a scything red beam from his heavy laser in the dust obscured direction that the Enforcer was, growling all the while over the company channel.

"Come'on Shep, off yer a$$ an on yer feet. I'll keep these f*cks busy."

Edited by Thom Frankfurt, 03 August 2014 - 08:39 PM.

[The Shepherd]

Jarrund Mall, Jarrund City
Kharkand, The Periphery
October, 3055 -- 07:42 Hrs

"... off yer a$$ an on yer feet. I'll keep these f*cks busy."

Bones’ voice cut in as the ringing in his ears subsided and his vision swam its way back to normalcy. It sounded odd somehow. James realised with a start that he was still yelling.
His comm unit had cut out with the bone jarring impact with the Commando, saving the rest of the company from the blast of sound.

Lungs finally empty, he took a deep breath and hacked blood immediately back out again. He more than likely had multiple cracked ribs by now. His harness had strained and dug into his cooling vest and skin in multiple places, keeping him from being thrown about the cockpit.
Still enraged, he barely felt the pain.
Inner ear working again, his balance allowed him to stop the Raven’s legs from flailing about uselessly.
Standing up properly, he looked about and saw Bones close by. Again.
“Ah hope ye like beer lad,” he coughed into the line, “Cus ah owe ye nay a wee bit.”

Striding in a loop around the downed Jenner, he pumped a salvo of SRMs into the twitching and burning Commando for good measure. The remaining few SRM-2 rounds in the little mech’s torso cooked off with the explosive assistance, twisting and gutting the mech beyond repair.

Spotting an abandoned trench line in the no-mans-land between the remaining two mechs and the friendly tank line, he hopped in and ran along it, angling to get on the mechs’ flank and split their attention by doing as much damage as possible.
Precious seconds of cover let him look at his damage readout. As he suspected, it wasn't good. His left torso, the leading side of his charge, had lost almost all of its armour. Glancing out of his cockpit, indeed he could see that the boxy assembly had been crumpled in from the top corner. That was bad news for the already damaged Guardian ECM mounted there, but it had neatly solved the exposed ammo feed problem from posed by his torn off SRM-6. What little armour left was folded down over the hole. The rest of the armour on his mech was still there, with a few minor exceptions, but was reading as compromised on his screens. It would absorb laser energy perfectly well, but anything ballistic or explosive would cause serious issues.

Stepping over a tunnel and gaining some elevation briefly, he saw the side of the enforcer barely 50 metres from him. It was turned towards the origin of the initial LRM barrage and Bones’ Wolverine, likely still laying into the Jenner, clear in the open. He had to get it to get it to turn, but a volley from its deadly Federated Autocannon 10 would likely fell him with anything resembling a solid hit.
He had however, other things to worry about. The Enforcer’s partner mech, a 35 ton Panther, had jumped down into the trench ahead of him. The mech’s pilot must have shared James’ idea of moving through cover to approach its enemy as it took a step back in surprise.

Not slowing and angling that same shoulder down again, James braced himself.
Seemingly shaking itself from its stupor, the Panther kicked its jets and popped straight up, feet just clearing the Raven’s antennae as James passed underneath.
Skidding to a halt in the mud and twisting right back around after taking a stabilising step for balance, James watched the Panther’s jets cut out completely at the apex of its jump. Panicked at the thought of sharing the same fate as his other light mech lancemates, the pilot must have forgotten that his jets needed time to recover from the initial jump into the trench. Dropping like a stone, the Panther’s reserve reaction mass spluttered out of the jet ports, softening the otherwise very hard landing. The pilot had some skill it seemed, as the mech didnt buckle completely. Instead it spread some of the shock by dropping to all fours, before making to stand back up again.

A mad grin cracked open James’ blood-flecked beard as he took his time settling his crosshairs over the vulnerable mech.
His twin lasers sliced across the back of the mech as it turned to face him, sinking most of their energy into its left shoulder. Triggered at the same time, a full six pack of SRMs slammed home shortly thereafter. Two caught the arm square on the bicep, blowing the weakened arm clean off. Three impacted the leading left torso, blowing off chunks of armour, while the remaining missile struck the mech square in its angled face. The transparent armour of the cockpit glass held, but it was clear that some damage had been done.
The pilot must have been temporarily knocked out from the blast as the mech’s gyro couldn't adjust to the sudden loss of weight caused by the missing arm. It overbalanced and dropped to the ground again, its right arm plunging into the mud and propping it up with its straight punch into the mud.

Fingers still gripping the triggers, James swung his stick reflexively to look up at another large shape looming over the trench. The Enforcer had steadily stepped backward from its previous position and now had its back to him, seemingly oblivious of light mechs’ antics beneath it.
His lasers missed wide and low, but the slower cycling SRM pack loosed its missiles in a spread across the back of the medium mech’s legs. Armor came free, but it was clear from the now turning mech’s steady movements that this pilot knew how to remain in control when surprised.

Looking straight down at him with twisted torso, he could tell he was being regarded with a mixture of disgust and disdain.


“Enna time ye wanna hit tha’ there biggun’d be grouse lads!” he growled out over comms, slamming his throttle forward.

[Spokes]

Jarrund Mall, Jarrund City
Kharkand, The Periphery
October, 3055 -- 07:42 Hrs

“Shade, Spokes, on me, we’re going to try and use Duke Cedric’s headlong charge to our advantage, lets see if we can kill some tanks.”

The haz cam rolls down from the expanding cloud of dust near the center of the loyalist line, the image bouncing momentarily before focusing in on Havok's crimson Wolfhound as it pulls away towards the left flank of the rebel advance. Li hesitates, hands working at the padding on the control sticks, her 'Mech still anchored to the ground by a two meter conductive rod. A few wild heartbeats, a few choice words, and the caution lights begin to wink out.

Something heavy and metallic sings off the forward hull with a whistling bang.

"Come on, come on come on come on!" The last light blinks off, the low-high tone in the headset not quite covering the metallic rasp of the retracting rod. The throttle is already rolling forward as Li flicks her eyes back to the haz cam screen, worry blooming at the distance the Wolfhound has already managed to cover. Aching muscles make adjustments to sweat soaked controls as Virgil mirrors Lieutenant Vega's maneuver, the Scorpion launching itself into a back-busting gallop, its sensors reaching through the haze and painting a trio of positive fusion plant contacts on the primary display. The central crosshair flashes green as the PPC pings ready in the headset.

"Copy Havok, Spokes aggressing."

[Sparks Murphey]

Answering Shepherd’s call, another flight of LRMs slammed into the back of the Enforcer. Even after the initial explosions had cleared, smoke continued to drift from the machine’s gashed back, evidence of a minor fire.

“Got it’s attention back Shepherd, you’re clear,” Nathan radioed as the other ‘Mech raised it’s cannon arm. The muzzle flashed and Nathan’s Dervish wrenched to the right as the burst of shells slammed against his armour.

Nathan turned his ‘Mech to a sideways strafe, narrowly avoiding a second volley, this one accompanied by the large laser from the other arm. Replying with a salvo of missiles from both the LRM and SRM launchers, he wondered how he was going to get the upper hand on the loyalist. The Enforcer, meanwhile, stubbornly stood it’s ground beside the trench, firing from the hip.

The trench. If he charged the Enforcer the way Shepherd had done the Commando, he could knock it back into the trench. Worth a shot, anyway. He allowed his strafe to carry him closer, then turned and shoulder-charged the other medium.

Which neatly stepped out of the way.

The Dervish stepped off the edge of the trench. Nathan had the presence of mind to stomp on the jump jets, but the machine was already unbalanced. Something smashed into the ‘Mech’s legs and tumbled it head first into the ground. Alarms blared and the AI started rattling off a damage report.

“Rechten LSR Zehn zerstört. Crit-Schaden, linken Knöchel.”

Nathan struggled his machine to its feet. The thing he’d hit had apparently been the loyalist Panther, now smushed face first into the mud by his ‘Mech’s fall. He couldn’t see Shepherd’s Raven around. Above, the Enforcer was finishing turning to face him again. He hit the jump jets just as it fired again, leaving the rounds stitching down the Dervish’s left leg.

“Crit-Schaden, linken Knie. Crit-Schaden, obere link Sprung-Jet.”

Nathan was now nought for five successful combat jump-jet landings, but at least this one accomplished what he wanted. The Dervish collided with the Enforcer and both machines collapsed to the ground. Nathan managed to prop his machine up first, firing the Dervish’s complete complement of arm mounted weapons directly into the torso of his opponent. The Enforcer swung its reinforced cannon arm like a club, smashing into the side of Nathan’s machine.

“Strukturelles Versagen der rechten Oberkörper. Rechte Arm abgetrennt.”

Nathan fired again, though his right-side weapons didn’t seem to be working properly. The SRMs dug deeply into the Enforcer’s chest, before the machine slumped to the ground again.

Clumsily, Nathan brought his Dervish to its feet and began reviewing the damage he’d sustained. The ‘Mech seemed awkward on its left side, and a quick glance at the displays showed that several actuators in that leg had been outright destroyed and their joints locked in place to enable some functionality. On the right hand side, he’d… no, that couldn’t be right. Nathan leant forward to peer out the window, shocked by what he saw. The entire right side of his Dervish was gone, a tangle of torn metal sheeting and cables where a quarter of his ‘Mech had been.

“Nathan here,” he said, forgetting to use his callsign as the shock started to settle in, “Enforcer down. I’ve lost half my weapons and one of my legs is badly damaged. 20 long range missiles left on board.”

[Janitor101]

07:43 Hours.
Jarrund Mall.
Jarrund City
4 Kilometers from the Marble Palace.

---

Havok dodged behind Duke Cedric's legs as the Po he'd taken several chunks of armor off of returned fire, the shot whizzed past harmlessly, hitting a building somewhere behind him with a dull thudding explosion.

Spokes appeared over the lip of a crater, her PPC cracked and let loose its semi directed particle stream toward the Po tank, the shot missed the tank, but the loosely contained particles zigzagged through the air, frying several enemy infantrymen in the vicinity of the tank. Spokes took the opportunity to scuttle forward to take cover behind a pair of helicopters that had crashed when the Arch had come down.

It occurred to Antonio that with the Arch having collapsed, that the Loyalist Partisans that had been shooting down any Rebel aerial units that approached had likely been buried by rubble. The lack of autocannon fire from their last positions seemed to confirm his suspicions.
Antonio brought up the comm channel to the closest aerial units in the vicinity. And informed them that the Loyalist AA units had been neutralized.


The arrival of the Rebel BattleMechs, and the loss of the Loyalist ones had changed the balance of power, Rebel units were now pushing the Loyalist lines, with more success than failure.

Loyalist units were falling back to their secondary line of defense, which Duke Cedric had already moving on to obliterating.
The Loyalist defense was within minutes of breaking.

---

Lt. Konovalev swore, that feckin’ idiot down in the guts of the Gauss Rifle was either too slow, or incompetent.
The defense line was crumbling under the onslaught that the Rebel Devastator was leading, Konovalev made up his mind, he had to do something.
“Bruce! Fire up the Gauss Rifle! Target that Devastator!”

The gun whirred to life as it charged, Bruce input the target and the rifle swung into line.

Two thirds of the way through the charge cycle, something below Lt. Konovalev made a loud electrical snap. It was the last thing he heard.

---

Antonio damn near jumped out of his seat when the Gauss Rifle emplacement exploded, sending superheated and electrically charged fragments everywhere.

The Gauss slug however, blew a hole out the side of the barrel and was sent hurtling across the battlefield. Antonio heard it pass him with a supersonic crack, more than actually seeing it.

Before he could even turn to see where it had gone. Shade’s company ID blinked blood red five times and went dark.
Antonio’s stomach flipped as he turned to see Shade, who’d caught the stray slug with his right shoulder and had punched a hole clean through the shoulder, cockpit and left shoulder of his mech.

The heavily damaged Shadowhawk collapsed mid stride, Shade had likely never realized he’d been hit.
Antonio turned away, back toward the retreating Loyalists, keying his comm as he did so.
“Shade is down, keep up the pressure.... Bones, Fishy, Shep. Report, whats your status?”


---


Shade is dead, sorry guardianwolf, you never responded to my latest calls to see who was still around. Dal10, please check in, or Mist will be the next casualty.

Gauss Rifle exploded when Lt. Konovalev fired it, the majority of the debris wasn’t moving fast enough to cause any major damage, Shade caught the slug which got fired prematurely and off course.

Loyalists are breaking, some units are beginning to turn tail and run.

Lets see some quick check in posts, everyone.

Edited by Janitor101, 07 October 2014 - 01:51 PM.

[The Shepherd]

07:43 Hours.
Jarrund Mall.
Jarrund City
4 Kilometers from the Marble Palace.

James was grateful for Fishy’s heroic if not clumsy rescue, but winced repeatedly as the brutal dance of mechs played out with all the gracefulness of a Luthien Sumo Wrestling League’s interpretation of Swan Lake.
The timely intervention of the Dervish’s LRMs had prevented the Enforcer from taking an easy shot down at him, and allowed for a mad dash out of harms way. He’d stepped neatly on the Panther’s back with crowed feet as it tried to rise on his way through, pressing it back down into the mud. Injury was added to the insult as he watched with twisted torso, Fish miss in his headlong charge and unceremoniously jump-jet-kick the Panther in the little mech’s face on its second standing attempt. Falling flat again with a crumpled snout, it was certainly out of the fight.

Now scooting out of the trench the way he’d first entered, he circled the brawl with fingers off triggers for fear of hitting Fishy’s battered Dervish with any assisting fire.
A sigh of relief escaped his lips as the Dervish eventually stood over vanquished foe, albeit short an arm and what looked like half of its torso. James stalked up, danger passed for now, and stood with Fishy over the two downed Loyalist mechs.

“Shade is down, keep up the pressure.... Bones, Fishy, Shep. Report, what’s your status?”

Havok’s voice broke the tableau and prompted a response from Fishy, while James took a moment to scan his sensor board.

“Nathan here, Enforcer down. I’ve lost half my weapons and one of my legs is badly damaged. 20 long range missiles left on board.”

“Shepherd here, Thanks for tha’ Fishy lad, damn brave thing ye did,” he said, burr fading somewhat in warm sincerity, “Ah’m mobile but reel banged oop. M’mech tuu. Canna take tuu much moor o’ this. Panther and Commanduu duun, Bones’ polishing off tha’ Jenner, but he’s showing leg damage tuu. Ah’ll swing ruund the right flank an’ spoot for our armour an’ truups as they advance. Screen shows just them bastad tanks left on yuur side an' retreating infantry o'or here.”

[Thom Frankfurt]

Jarrund Mall, Jarrund City
Kharkand, The Periphery
October, 3055 -- 07:43 Hrs
4 Kilometers from the Marble Palace.

"Life is cheap, battlemech's are expensive." Billy whispered out in a low voice as he stood dumbstruck gazing over the savaged remains of the Commando. The blasted, twisted metal framework from one of the light mech' limbs stabbed into the smoke filled sky of Kharkand from the torn war scarred earth. A fitting grave marker for the battlemech.

But was it nessacary? Did the mech have to be put down like that? Couldn't Shep just shoot off a leg or crush the Commando's gyroscope housing? To Bill it seemed a bit extreme, and wasteful.

Even as those thoughts came to him, the pirate turned patriot dragged his eyes across the warzone that was Jarrund Mall. The dust from the Great Arch's destruction still waifed in the air, creating some type of ghostly pall looming over the trench-works, downed VTOLs, and burned out tanks. Motion drew his eye to the banged up Jenner trying to manipulate it's clog-like feet and winged weapon mounts beneath it's hulk.

Don't do it...

Even as the thought came to him, the Jenner pilot somehow began to raise his mech from the runnel it's unceremonious fall dug, it's forward thrusted head slowly rising from the hallow. Bill manipulated his controls bringing his Wolverine's right foot down like a piston, but at the last second Bones adjusted his aim, narrowly avoiding the Jenner's bubble cockpit and smashing down through the jutting neck section, crushing and buckling armored plating, snapping structural supports, and eventually removing the mech's head which awkwardly skittered across the torn up earth. From the new location of her Jenner's severed head, the female mechwarrior locked gazes with Billy before scrambling from her command couch, tossing her neural helmet to the side. No doubt fearing for her life.

Go on, run. There's nowhere safe to hide, Billy thought grimly.

“Enna time ye wanna hit tha’ there biggun’d be grouse lads!” Shep growled out over comms, his accent nearly incomprehensible like always. Fishy responded a couple of seconds later with “Got it’s attention back Shepherd, you’re clear.” Amongst storbing explosions and muzzle flashes mechs danced amongst each another spewing death and destruction at one another.

Stomping down upon his throttle Bill, maneuvered his battlemech in the direction of the remaining Loyalist mechs, hoping to get a few shots in on the Enforcer that angered him earlier, Shep's mech was shot up real bad and a solid hit from the mech's heavy laser or 100 mil would be almost a certain death for the Raven pilot. He had to get there, but several explosions blossoming from his right flank drew his attention to a hastily retreating squad of SRM wielding PBI.

"Sneaky little sh**s..." Bill drew his targeting reticule over the pack of opportunistic infantrymen, but held his fire as the men tossed the empty still smoking missile tube to the side and took flight, clambering over the broken terrain and disappearing into the rubble from the collapsed archway.

“Nathan here, Enforcer down. I’ve lost half my weapons and one of my legs is badly damaged. 20 long range missiles left on board.”

“Shepherd here, Thanks for tha’ Fishy lad, damn brave thing ye did,” Shep said, burr fading in a sincere voice, “Ah’m mobile but reel banged oop. M’mech tuu. Canna take tuu much moor o’ this. Panther and Commanduu duun, Bones’ polishing off tha’ Jenner, but he’s showing leg damage tuu. Ah’ll swing ruund the right flank an’ spoot for our armour an’ truups as they advance. Screen shows just them bastad tanks left on yuur side an' retreating infantry o'or here.”

"My leg is damaged?" Bones asked aloud his voice booming in the stillness of the cockpit while tapping upon his now ever strobing wired damage display. It seemed that his battle computer was stating that his mech's legs were the only things not damaged.

From his right ahead a large explosion boomed over the battlefield, bits of electric aching metal flew through the smoke choked air pinging against war machines and causing cautious infantrymen to duck their heads back into their foxholes.

“Shade is down, keep up the pressure.... Bones, Fishy, Shep. Report, what’s your status?” Havok's voice sounded, crackling over the com system sounding exhausted and weary. Bill tapped a sausage like index finger against his damage display which snowed over then came back online just showing some minor armor damage and the red pulsing icon of a malfunctioning heat sink. Bones clicked his teeth as he read the latest bit of information. Could it be... wait- Shade was down?

"I'm here Havok," Bill looked over his immediate area finding himself alone and eerily feeling like he was sitting in the eye of a storm. "The Jenner is down," he checked his sensor reads confirming that there was indeed nothing to shoot at nearby, "my sensors are f**king up, I can't tell how shot up I am." Bill paused momentarily knowing that that didn't really fit in with any military protocol anywhere. He wasn't a line officer in one of the great armies of the Inner Sphere, and there was no questioning that. Why even try acting like that?

He learned how to pilot a mech from destitute mech jocks on Solaris and virtually all of his combat experience came from his time running with pirates and raiding unwary planets. He was an expert at fighting dirty and right now this rebellion needed that.

"Moving to make some Iron-Coffins," he cut off the rest of his statement about asking the rest of the company's surviving members to quit blowing one another and join him, "would appreciate some support." he added gruffly before turning his Wolverine in the direction of the remaining Loyalist armor.

Stomping down upon his throttle Bones quickly brought the Wolverine up to full speed, 86KPH. Over the broken terrain he raced his mech, charging towards his enemies, leaping over world waresque trench works, winding past flaming armored hulks and burning wreckages and sloshing through the park's half drained reflecting pool. Over the crater strewn warzone the Wolverine darted ignoring breaking Loyalist infantrymen who tossed down their weapons and threw up their arms in surrender, as the Wolverine stormed through their static defenses. And turning the defenders that continued to fire upon the Rebel aggressors or himself with grim determination into red mist with his mech's lasers.

Cresting a rise Bill gazed out over the war zone. Before him lay more devastation, more churned up cratered park green. Missiles flew back and forth streaking from the opposing sides like arrows loosed by archers on Terra so long ago. Great geysers of dirt became airborne as artillery detonated flinging it skyward. Booming autocannon spewed death and destruction over the battlefield with thunderous roars, the cannon muzzle flashes backlighting the tanks.

Pressing on, Bill charged downhill slamming right into the 12th armored company's rear, announcing himself with scything red laser fire into a dug in Po's already mangled armor. With a earth shaking explosion the heavy tank ceased to exist as it's ammunition stores detonated.

Bill founded himself shouting into his mic even while blinking away the after image of the detonating tank. "What are Fu*ks waiting for? CRUSH 'EM!!"

Edited by Thom Frankfurt, 13 October 2014 - 09:16 PM.

[Spokes]

Jarrund Mall, Jarrund City
Kharkand, The Periphery
October, 3055 -- 07:43 Hrs

Li had launched herself forward with the same wild abandon as the others, their abbreviated charge quickly bogging down in the face of the well fortified loyalist position. But the broken ground of the Jarrund Mall had brought opportunity too, the soft earth offering up good cover wherever the enemy artillery had touched it. The blasted "moonscape" was in a way a welcome change, the craters and undulating terrain more familiar to the off world MechWarrior than the forests and city streets had been. Li advanced in fits and spurts, her Scorpion's low profile frustrating the enemy gunners as it darted from shell hole to shell hole. There was friendly infantry too, taking advantage of the cover, able to press no further against the strength of the armor arrayed in front of them. A few of them waved her forward, others now, the silent cheers on the haz cam screens. She tried not to look at that, knew she was no hero, her charge born more from fear of being left behind again than any more noble sentiment. The combatants exchanged a heavy volume of fire, but with the tanks dug in and most of the rebel power tied up in the ponderous Devastator, both sides seemed to acknowledge that any advance was likely to come on the other side of the battlefield. With no enemy aircraft to threaten her this time, Li was content to play spoiler, keeping her head down and taking a shot at anything that seemed to be trying to flank Duke Cedric's lumbering assault 'Mech.

Another fresh burst of artillery, another scuttling dash, and Li pulled the Scorpion up behind two wrecked VTOLs. She took a wild shot at one of the enemy tanks, ducked low, no return fire. A glance down at the haz cams showed infantry gathering close, the soldiers always seeming to find her whenever she stopped, looking for any cover from the deadly hailstorm going on all around them. The sharp whistle of an incoming mortar emphasized the point, the anti-personnel round spattering harmlessly against the Scorpion's broad back.

"Virgil, backtrack!" Li shifted the machine's stance, mindful of the infantry underneath her, two sharp tones in the headset, an inverted red triangle pulsing up on the primary display. When sales of their new quadruped 'Mech had faltered badly, the Brigadier Corporation had attempted to rebrand the machine as an infantry support platform, and the centuries old software was still in the computer. A quick toggle press shifted the SRMs' hexagonal sight to a broad, flat arc. Li centered the arc on the triangle, mashed the firing stud, the missiles twisting up and onto a line abreast, ballistic trajectory that terminated along the trenches where the mortar round had come from. The anti-armor warheads were less than ideal for this sort of thing, but they made a mess of the trenchworks and would hopefully convince the loyalist infantry that this was a fight they really didn't want.

The explosion of the gauss emplacement caught Li by surprise, the sharp, broken crack of it sounding through the hull and momentarily setting her ears ringing. The fear that the emplacement had been brought back to life was quickly replaced by something approaching sympathy, the memory of the warped field inhibitor still fresh in her mind. Li gave the trenchworks another volley, the enemy infantry seeming to take the hint, boiling up out of the defenses and back towards their tanks.

Now one of the tanks did return fire, one of the VTOLs in front of her coming apart in a storm of shrapnel and flame. The infantry around her scattered, some wounded, others picking their way forward to the next line of trenches. Li crab walked the Scorpion fully behind the remaining VTOL, began looking for the next bit of cover.

“Shade is down, keep up the pressure.... Bones, Fishy, Shep. Report, whats your status?”

Of course Shade is down. Shade is always down. There was something ominous about that though, the volume of fire increasing from the enemy lines, the tanks becoming more spirited as their infantry screen evaporated. Li ducked her BattleMech down into another shell hole, traded fire with the Rommel MBT, the HTAL display flashing as the tank's LRMs found their mark. The damage reports didn't sound good, what little she could hear over the explosions and static. . .where was Mist? She popped up again, fired, the PPC taking a chunk out of the berm in front of the tank. The LRMs came again, more armor gone. How many rounds do you have left for that big gun? Li wasn't sure she wanted to find out. She eased to her left, bounced the pedal, lifted the crosshairs up over the rim of the crater.

The Po under her guns exploded before Li could hit the firing stud.

A battered Wolverine emerged from behind the roiling smoke and flame, a single heartbeat of terror before she realized the BattleMech was friendly. There was a rush of sound from the radio, the words lost in a storm of electronic noise but the meaning clear enough.

S---!! The mag scan contacts grew stronger as the three fusion powered battle tanks throttled up and started to move. Bones needed immediate support, but her particle cannon was useless at close range and Li really did not want to close with that Rommel. A quick push now might finish it, the crews of those three valuable tanks might decide not to fight to the bitter end. But, if they did, if there was still ammo in their racks. . .if Cedric decided to hang back and wait for the tanks to finish them. . .

Li stared hard at the display, sucked air through clenched teeth, hands tightening on the padding, crushing into the grooves made by fingers much larger than her own.

The throttle slammed forward against the stops, the Scorpion throwing itself forward out of the hole in a surge of dirt and armored legs.

"Cry havoc!!"

[Janitor101]

07:44 Hours.
Jarrund Mall.
Jarrund City
4 Kilometers from the Marble Palace.


---


Antonio passed a gaggle of nine Loyalist infantry, all had disarmed and were approaching the oncoming rebel forces with hands raised.
The loss of the Gauss Rifle had broken the back of the Loyalist’s defense, fighting was still fierce, but more and more Loyalists were giving up the impossible fight that faced them.

Duke Cedric had taken the lead on pushing into the Loyalist fortifications further up the Mall, an unnecessary action in Antonio’s mind, the Loyalists were already retreating, Cedric was just slaughtering the falling back soldiers.


---


Osric breathed a sigh of relief as he rubbed his eyes, the team of commandos had finally reported in. They had captured Leofric just as he was being led to a dropship to escape Kharkand, Osric’s men had taken his uncle into captivity.

It was over... he’d won.

Osric took a deep breath, and activated the communications system he’d had set up specially for this occasion.

---


“Citizens of Kharkand. I am Duke Osric, moments ago, eleven commandos captured Archduke Leofric.
As of now, the Kharkandan Civil War is over. This is a call for all Loyalist soldiers to throw down their arms and surrender. I personally guarantee the safety of every Loyal Kharkandan whop surrenders peaceably.”

“As of now, my uncle Cedric, is Archduke of Kharkand.
All hail the Archduke!”

Osric cut the feed and smiled, all the pieces were in place, exactly how he wanted them. Osric keyed the preset communication to his uncle Cedric, and sat back.


---


Cedric cackled, he’d not expected his nephew to keep up his end of the bargain when Osric had approached him about his defection with Maerec’s Devastator. But low and behold, he’d delivered, and Cedric was now the Archduke.

Cedric brought the Devastator to a halt, surveying the battlefield before him.

A cheep from his communications panel made pause to Cedric’s celebration, it was a message from Osric. Cedric activated it, only to find his ears bombarded with high pitched wailing from his neuro-helmet, Cedric screamed, his desperate attempts removed the helmet off his head failed.
He felt his Devastator take two steps as it turned to face north, the wailing stopped, and was replaced with Osric’s voice.

“I thank you Uncle Cedric, for your aid in my taking of Kharkand, your sacrifice will be remembered.”

Cedric saw a bright flash ahead from the buildings from where his mech had faced, he barely had time to realize his nephew had used him before his body was obliterated.


---


Antonio couldn’t believe it, Osric had followed the rules of succession and actually let his uncle take the throne, Cedric had proved to not be the same man Antonio had first met many years ago. His ruthless slaughter at the Mall had left no doubts in Antonio’s mind.

Suddenly frantic radio chatter about Archduke Cedric squawked in Antonio’s ears over an open channel.
Cedric had been hit.
Antonio turned, just in time to see The Devastator fall backwards, and smash into the cobbled paths of the Mall, leaving a massive plume of black smoke billowing from its cockpit.

Apparently some of the Loyalists just wanted revenge.
Antonio couldn’t say that he felt sorry for Cedric.


---


Cedric is dead, Loyalists sniped his cockpit. That's all you know.


Bones: Something is wrong, your mech is declaring an ammo explosion in your torso where the SRMs are stored, but there hasn’t been an explosion.


All: The next few parts of this RP will take place on foot, outside our mechs, then we'll be back in them again at the end.Just giving a heads up.