8
Black Hills, Solaris City
Freedom Theater, Solaris VII
"Alright Will, you'sa follow me's alike 200 meters," DeMarkus advised Wafflebanger, who's real name was William, while taking point. "Don't want you'sa rounding a's corner and'a find you's toe-to tow and at minimum range wit dem missiles o' yers." With that the Warlockain mechwarrior eased his throttle forward a little more, guiding his Cataphract pass an intersection of bombed out three story buildings in search of one of their few remaining opponents.
"Alright, Old Man." Wafflebanger held his battered Archer back as the 'Phract took lead.
Chancing a look, D hastily typed away a command on his console with a rough finger bringing up the 'score' and grinned. Of the twelve mechs making up the opposing team only four were still functional. His teams breakneck mad charge into the gap caused by the two opposing assault mech's destruction caught the other team stunned and with their pants down. Those few seconds of confusion cost them dearly, loosing several more mechs to combined fire from his company.
That didn't mean that the 'enemy' didn't respond in a timely manner, they did inflict considerable damage as well as dropping an allied Victor and Phoenix Hawk. A brave Warhammer and Marauder duo covered the enemy teams retreat, working in tandem they dropped a friendly Hunchback and Wolverine before falling to combined mass firepower. But that wasn't what gave the former Capella cause to smile, he looked at the subcategories of the score, the statistics, and he was atop of the boards in not only kills at 4, but in sheer amount of damage inflicted.
He suddenly brought his Cataphract up short while approaching the piled ruins of a collapsed high rise building. Something about it didn't feel right to him. He inched his mech slowly forward thinking about what he knew about his enemy. They were skilled, if amateurs, but they fell back in two directions. If he had to bet they'd all fallen back to some rally point where they could reorganize and hopefully pick off his team one by one as they honed in on their location.
Inching forward, he was rewarded with the view of a slight wooded hill that overlooked the approach he just took, beyond the hill whose large boulders could easily hide a handful of hunkered down battlemechs, lay a shallow water harbor with a small dock. Far off beyond that lay a hilly island capped with a red and white striped lighthouse. The Hangman wasn't sure if it was his time in the military, or just normal Capellan intuition, but everything screamed out trap to him. Checking his sensors, D was just about to send a message out to Wafflebanger to move back to cover when the trap sprung.
Like some kind of unholy thunderstorm it began. Man-made bolts of bright lightning struck followed quickly by a deadly hail of missile fire. Blooming blossoms of fiery death in hues of red and orange sprouted forth from Will's Archer like some sort of hellish flower. The mech staggered back pummeled by the onslaught dropping bits of shattered armor and a lost arm. The Hangman watched on awestruck as the missile boat stabbed out the stumpy arm to right itself even as he teetered on falling over and loosed it's own missiles back at it's tormentors. Yes, talented amateurs, indeed.
Seeing his team mate in trouble DeMarkus sprung into action, throwing his throttle forward the simulated mech quickly lumbered forward and within seconds reached it's full speed of 64.8 KpH. More imbound missiles whooshed in seeked out the friendly Archer desperately seeking cover. Growling, the Warlockian rounded a heap of piled building debris and was awarded for his efforts by finding a half crippled Griffin, slowly turning to face him, smoke still rising from it's Delta-Dart 10 rack. The Griffin pilot became aware of his predicament with it's weaponry's minimum ranges and onrushing enemy Cataphract and attempted to backpedal out of there, but couldn't limp away in time with myomer crazily flaying about from his rented leg armor.
Bearing down upon the hapless medium mech, DeMarkus was barely aware of Waffle-banging-Will calling out contact and their location, instead he felt something happen. Something... snap deep within himself. He suddenly felt free, like some sort of barrier just got battered down, or the leash being slipped off. with a surge of adrenaline the Hangman charged his 'Phract squarely into the smaller Griffin. With an uncomfortable lurch, the sim-pod's straps dug deeply into into the mechwarrior's shoulders. He didn't notice.
With a great heave DeMarkus flung the 'Phract forward, it's momentum easily taking the lighter mech along with it, belly flopping upon it. With a bone aching impact, D manipulated the controls without a thought, holding the medium mech sandwiched between the unyielding earth and autocannon spewing heavy mech. Within seconds the Griffin grew still, it's torso gutted. Again working his controls the Warlockian pushed his mech from the gutted hulk of the Griffin. He gave it a kick before turning to sneak up on his other enemies.
Pushing forward through a strand of pine D ran across a path running through the trees. The path continued on up the rise towards the forested hill he found earlier. He turned his 'Phract about to take the trail heading uphill, as he worked his way he saw glimpses of laser fire shooting up ahead through the trees followed by the dull drumming of missiles raining down upon the boulders ahead. With an evil grin he pressed onward with tree boughs snapping against his mech's hulk with rifle like cracks.
Movement. A great crablike armored monstrosity, a Marauder, slowly rose from where it was hunkering down among lichen covered boulders. With grace that would belie it's seventy five ton hulk the mech rose to stab out at some unseen target with the flash of man made lightning and roar of autocannon. From his wooded hide, the Hangman took carefull aim, and remorselessly caressed his trigger.
Angry red laserfire lanced out, slashing across the crablike mech's broad back followed a split second by a hammer like blows of one hundred millimeter slugs which pummeled away at the enemy mech. It staggered drunkenly then flopped down with the grace that only seventy five tons could. Not even caring about his heat levels, D pushed his mech forward, boldly strolling out of the treeline stabbing away at the Marauder with more gem colored laserfire and short ranged missiles.
Ahead loomed another opponent, hiding among the boulders, a barrel chested and large missile armed, Crusader. Even while missiles dropped about it's location, the missile boat reared it's horned head to glare in his direction. The Capellan' sensors screamed out a warning of a hard missile lock as the backlash of missile launches highlighted the Crusader as it unloaded at D's Cataphract. Missiles drummed across the heavy mech's armor, even as he moved to the side circling for shots on the Crusader's flank while presenting the 'Phract's less damaged side.
The other pilot was good, maybe not mechwarrior good, but he responded to DeMarkusus' movement accordingly circling to the side. Unfortunately for the Crusader pilot, the movement placed him out from the boulder's safety and his ass dangling out in the air for whomever to shoot at.
Destruction rained down upon the Crusader, tossing up bits of broken rock and soil as orange black blossoms sprung about the missile boat's back. The horn headed mech stumbled forward under the beating, waving it's arms about trying to regain it's balance. It was totally unprepared to have a seventy ton Franken-mech barrel into it.
Ducking low at the last moment, D dropped the Cataphract's shoulder, catching the missile boat squarely in the sternum. With a sickening screech, the Hang-man urged his mech forward, bullying the lighter mech as the hammering blows of pointblank fired missiles light up his damage display with angry red lights screaming for his attention.
"THAT ALL YOU GOT, WIMP?!" The gladiator roared out as he pushed out his mech's arms, one of which that now ended with jagged stump at the elbow, flinging the Crusader off the hilltop, to pummel down the slope. Thrashing violently the Crusader flopped about madly before settling in an awkward looking posture facing upward at the sky broken. Yellow coolant oozed from rents in it's armor while myomer dangling loosely from broken limbs. DeMarkus strode the 'Phract forward to look down impassively on the scene.
Not far away, Wafflebanger's Archer somehow stood under it's own power, it's armor more memory than anything else, allied mechs were creeping forward out of the shelter of the simulated ruined township.
"Dude... That was awesome." Wil whispered over the comline starting an avalanche of compliments from the rest of the company. Sighing heavily, D nodded to the empty confines of the sim-pod.
**********************************************************
[A bit Later]
With a hiss the Sim-Time simulator pod's door yawned open, allowing a sweaty and weary DeMarkus to drag himself out. The rooms light seemed oppressively stark, harsh after the relative murky gloom of the pod's interior. Standing there with his eyes closed, the Hangman raked his fingers through his sweaty hair as he mentally reviewed the latest sim-bout. It was a rout, a total spanking.
"I don't know why you don't use that Frankenmech more often, you're freaking awesome with it." Thatguydoughnut/Jon said while smiling geekily and rolling back on his heels. Others soon joined him offering compliments that fell on deaf ears. DeMarkus nodded through it all. Soon his little group headed out towards the lobby and no doubt more catcalls and name calling. He wasn't disappointed as his new found friends verbally lashed out at the other sullen looking team.
DeMarkus barely became aware of a presence before him, it reeked of cheap cologne, he raised his eyes up from the sunflower husk strewn floor to lock gazes with a greasy looking man wearing a cheap double breasted business suit, his lapel had a pin depicting the Sim-Time! logo.
"Sir, that was the best usage of that Frankenmech I've ever seen. You're a pro aren't you, a real MechWarrior?" Greaseball asked arching a finely plucked eyebrow. Giving a downcast face, DeMarkus nodded as a sudden silence fell upon the gathered wannabe warriors. "Your name, Sir?" The assumed owner of Sim-Time! asked cracking a slimy grin.
"DeMarkus Frankfurt. Da Hangman from'as Rainbow Stables." D noticed that his companions were looking at him in a new light, with faces ranging from shock to admiration to disgust. Motion caught his eye, one of the Sim-Time workers was pushing his way through the crowd, he stopped before D and proffered a paper napkin to him. "Can I get your autograph, Hangman?"
Edited by Thom Frankfurt, 03 January 2015 - 11:39 AM.
