Plans were often subjected to change but Aravind didn't exactly expect this one to change even before touchdown. The emergency briefing was quick to awake him from his sleep which he needed as the next decision from his Lance Command was to execute an emergency drop insertion. For his first time, he did quite well, judging from the fact that his combat diagnostic systems reported any damage to the leg structures but he did feel some suspicious shifting of weight to his right as he hit ground. No reports of damage or system failure but to make sure, he activated a diagnostic subroutine to check his LRM ammo storage and warmed up his PPC.
"Roger that. Weapons live and moving into position." Aravind responded into his commlink. "And about that name, I've had worse."
5
39 replies to this topic
#22
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- 574 posts
Member
Posted 05 February 2014 - 08:36 PM
Sundale Operational Area, Midale
Capellan March, Federated Suns
15 April, 3035 -- [ Planetfall + 00:00:02:58 ]
"Black Joke, Black Joke, this is King Two, come back, over."
The Thrush hung suspended in the razor thin nothing between the sky and the stars, held aloft by its engine and little else. Chāo made an adjustment on the comm panel, glanced over her flight instruments, looked back through the canopy at the tiny wisp of cloud far above her, caught in the rays of the not-quite sunrise just over the horizon. There shouldn't be clouds up that high-- there wasn't enough water vapor in the rarefied air. Nor was there any moisture in the drive plumes of fusion powered spacecraft.
But there was plenty of moisture on the inside of a ship's hull. . .
"Black Joke, Black Joke, this is King Two, come back, over."
Capellan March, Federated Suns
15 April, 3035 -- [ Planetfall + 00:00:02:58 ]
"Black Joke, Black Joke, this is King Two, come back, over."
The Thrush hung suspended in the razor thin nothing between the sky and the stars, held aloft by its engine and little else. Chāo made an adjustment on the comm panel, glanced over her flight instruments, looked back through the canopy at the tiny wisp of cloud far above her, caught in the rays of the not-quite sunrise just over the horizon. There shouldn't be clouds up that high-- there wasn't enough water vapor in the rarefied air. Nor was there any moisture in the drive plumes of fusion powered spacecraft.
But there was plenty of moisture on the inside of a ship's hull. . .
"Black Joke, Black Joke, this is King Two, come back, over."
#23
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- Bridesmaid
- 39 posts
Member
Posted 12 February 2014 - 09:26 AM
Yokitz Field, Sundale Operations Area
15 April, 3035
Midale, Capellan March
Federated Suns
Planetfall; the early morning sun cracking over the not so distant mesas and down the air strip that the Crimson King had just landed. Shafts of low wavelength light firing through the prism of the planet's atmosphere lit amber and pink on the horizon. There was a still in the hangar that seemed to loom longer than the silence that was only broken by the drive train and motor of the rising hangar door revealing the desert sandscape that is Midale. The docking collar that held Madri in place within the belly of the union class dropship began it's disembarkment protocol.
The Black Joke was down. This op was already shaping up to be full of surprises; none of them welcome. First, it's dropping wearing Taurian colors and now company command is wiped out before it even hits the ground. Intel suggested there'd be defences but not much that would repel the insertion. Jam recounted the provisos in his contract weighing whether the risks really warrant the reward.
The planet's dossier shows that Midale is a typical agro-industrial planet that helps to feed nearly every inhabited system within 60 light years. 430 years ago Midale was apparently a hot commodity, a bread basket world of the periphery realm, the Taurian Concordat, the toughest opponent the Star League faced in its Reunification wars. Even though the Concordat was as well equipped as the larger successor states, outnumbered and undergunned the Taurians often employed guerilla tactics to slow the advances of the Star League allied flotillas. All in all, it was thirteen years of brutal war in which all those involved lost dearly. Shortly after Star League forces took the planet in 2590, the Taurians booby-trapped the Flannagan's Nebula with so much debris that it forced Star League troops to remove it by hand. The Taurian theater came to a close in 2596 and Midale was ceded to the Federated Suns, forming the periphery border of the Capellan March.
The shortwave channel maintained by the fire support lance momentarily crackled with life. "Roger, roger, this is Water Bear forming up with Shark on egress, establishing LZ and securing operations area," Jam reports and steers his fifty ton machine down the ramp and behind the right wing of the Osprey. Maintaining a distance of 30m the two mechs established the beachhead of the Crimson King a hundred meters out from the dropship. In a forward position, the scout lance's Firestarter was playing a hot number on the airport's com tower, providing the proper pyrotechnics to prove its namesake with its primary weaponry, the tower soon became a hulking chimney spewing a column of thick black smoke.
The rest of the scout lance had formed up outside of the airport and had been performing a sweep of the perimeter. They had been reporting activity in the area since they'd touched down but in the poor light of the early dawn identifying potential threats was made difficult. Mag scans weren't incredibly reliable because the building materials and equipment cluttered the scopes. Dew left everything slightly cooler on the thermal scans. Damn it all! These are perfect conditions for more unwanted surprises. I thought they billed this as an everyday smash and grab. Jam took solace in the fact that the dropship captain had the presence of mind to land on the airstrip in such a way that deployed the main force in the light of the rising sun. At least there's one thing is going in our favor on this drop.
{Edited for grammar}
15 April, 3035
Midale, Capellan March
Federated Suns
Planetfall; the early morning sun cracking over the not so distant mesas and down the air strip that the Crimson King had just landed. Shafts of low wavelength light firing through the prism of the planet's atmosphere lit amber and pink on the horizon. There was a still in the hangar that seemed to loom longer than the silence that was only broken by the drive train and motor of the rising hangar door revealing the desert sandscape that is Midale. The docking collar that held Madri in place within the belly of the union class dropship began it's disembarkment protocol.
The Black Joke was down. This op was already shaping up to be full of surprises; none of them welcome. First, it's dropping wearing Taurian colors and now company command is wiped out before it even hits the ground. Intel suggested there'd be defences but not much that would repel the insertion. Jam recounted the provisos in his contract weighing whether the risks really warrant the reward.
The planet's dossier shows that Midale is a typical agro-industrial planet that helps to feed nearly every inhabited system within 60 light years. 430 years ago Midale was apparently a hot commodity, a bread basket world of the periphery realm, the Taurian Concordat, the toughest opponent the Star League faced in its Reunification wars. Even though the Concordat was as well equipped as the larger successor states, outnumbered and undergunned the Taurians often employed guerilla tactics to slow the advances of the Star League allied flotillas. All in all, it was thirteen years of brutal war in which all those involved lost dearly. Shortly after Star League forces took the planet in 2590, the Taurians booby-trapped the Flannagan's Nebula with so much debris that it forced Star League troops to remove it by hand. The Taurian theater came to a close in 2596 and Midale was ceded to the Federated Suns, forming the periphery border of the Capellan March.
The shortwave channel maintained by the fire support lance momentarily crackled with life. "Roger, roger, this is Water Bear forming up with Shark on egress, establishing LZ and securing operations area," Jam reports and steers his fifty ton machine down the ramp and behind the right wing of the Osprey. Maintaining a distance of 30m the two mechs established the beachhead of the Crimson King a hundred meters out from the dropship. In a forward position, the scout lance's Firestarter was playing a hot number on the airport's com tower, providing the proper pyrotechnics to prove its namesake with its primary weaponry, the tower soon became a hulking chimney spewing a column of thick black smoke.
The rest of the scout lance had formed up outside of the airport and had been performing a sweep of the perimeter. They had been reporting activity in the area since they'd touched down but in the poor light of the early dawn identifying potential threats was made difficult. Mag scans weren't incredibly reliable because the building materials and equipment cluttered the scopes. Dew left everything slightly cooler on the thermal scans. Damn it all! These are perfect conditions for more unwanted surprises. I thought they billed this as an everyday smash and grab. Jam took solace in the fact that the dropship captain had the presence of mind to land on the airstrip in such a way that deployed the main force in the light of the rising sun. At least there's one thing is going in our favor on this drop.
{Edited for grammar}
Edited by Rick Bassman, 12 February 2014 - 07:38 PM.
#24
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- Philanthropist
- 4,525 posts
Member
- Locationsomewhere near a bucket of water and the gates of hell.
Posted 13 February 2014 - 12:38 PM
Yokitz Field, Sundale Operations Area
15 April, 3035
Midale, Capellan March
Federated Suns
Kasuga had heard all the commotion. Their battalion commander was down, a third of their forces were down, and they weren't even engaged with the enemy yet. Despite all of this, the merc unit was still going through with the mission. Such a thing was expected of a member of the DCMS, but she hadn't expected this kind of mental fortitude from the mercs1. It had pleasantly surprised her. The unit had taken extra precautions after the destruction of one of the unions, dropping the recon lance off from orbit, so they were down on the ground before the union even touched down. According to all of the books she had read, it seemed like a smart plan.
After the ship had set down and the rumbles of its engines had subsided, the gantry holding her Panther, Akasha, in place swung off of the 11 meter tall metal man. A tech with a pair of light up strobes swung them while pointing towards the door, directing her outside. Kasuga flipped of the safeties, and Akasha took her first step on this alien planet orbiting an alien sun.
After clearing the ramp, she walked off towards the right, taking up a position so she could cover the area around the ship without blocking anyone on the ramp from being able to fire, another standard tactic. She watched as the rest of her lance filed one by one out the dropship and took up positions to cover all approaches off the dropship,
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________
1: as much as she is a yak, and may respect what mercs do, a drac is still a drac. they get propaganda about this stuff their entire life.
15 April, 3035
Midale, Capellan March
Federated Suns
Kasuga had heard all the commotion. Their battalion commander was down, a third of their forces were down, and they weren't even engaged with the enemy yet. Despite all of this, the merc unit was still going through with the mission. Such a thing was expected of a member of the DCMS, but she hadn't expected this kind of mental fortitude from the mercs1. It had pleasantly surprised her. The unit had taken extra precautions after the destruction of one of the unions, dropping the recon lance off from orbit, so they were down on the ground before the union even touched down. According to all of the books she had read, it seemed like a smart plan.
After the ship had set down and the rumbles of its engines had subsided, the gantry holding her Panther, Akasha, in place swung off of the 11 meter tall metal man. A tech with a pair of light up strobes swung them while pointing towards the door, directing her outside. Kasuga flipped of the safeties, and Akasha took her first step on this alien planet orbiting an alien sun.
After clearing the ramp, she walked off towards the right, taking up a position so she could cover the area around the ship without blocking anyone on the ramp from being able to fire, another standard tactic. She watched as the rest of her lance filed one by one out the dropship and took up positions to cover all approaches off the dropship,
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________
1: as much as she is a yak, and may respect what mercs do, a drac is still a drac. they get propaganda about this stuff their entire life.
Edited by dal10, 17 February 2014 - 08:20 PM.
#25
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- 1,026 posts
Member
- Locationa 45 tonner on patrol...
Posted 13 February 2014 - 07:25 PM
“Roger, roger, this is Water Bear forming up with Shark on egress, establishing LZ and securing operations area.”
Seems I've picked up Water Bear as a wingman. That does make me feel better, I'm not all alone wandering out into potentially a hazard rich environment. Off to one side, I can see the scout lance's Firestarter trying to melt down the control tower. Something in there must be magnesium, my sensors show a huge bloom of that metal playing inferno as it burns.
Just as I'm about to pivot away, my eyes catch movement, maybe 800 meters out. Too much clutter for the sensors on their own to identify... I slow and get a clean optical zoom. Light infantry with what can only be an SRM launcher on a smallish truck, they are maneuvering to take a shot at the Firestarter and are probably in range... they may be waiting for him to turn and present a clean back shot.
“CTC! Infantry with anti-armor possible, 780 meters in grid...” I double check my map as the Osprey springs forward with a purpose, “C7. Moving to engage the missiles at range. Someone let the Firestarter know they are hoping for his back.”
I'll be under five-hundred forty meters in mere moments, but I can also see them start moving... to strike! The Firestarter looks like it is beginning to turn away just as they had expected, I need to make them pay before they can fire.
The indicator for range turns green and I squeeze the trigger. Over my head, the dazzling bolt of charged particles crackles as it rips across the intervening space towards the unarmored SRMs.
(edit: spelling)
Seems I've picked up Water Bear as a wingman. That does make me feel better, I'm not all alone wandering out into potentially a hazard rich environment. Off to one side, I can see the scout lance's Firestarter trying to melt down the control tower. Something in there must be magnesium, my sensors show a huge bloom of that metal playing inferno as it burns.
Just as I'm about to pivot away, my eyes catch movement, maybe 800 meters out. Too much clutter for the sensors on their own to identify... I slow and get a clean optical zoom. Light infantry with what can only be an SRM launcher on a smallish truck, they are maneuvering to take a shot at the Firestarter and are probably in range... they may be waiting for him to turn and present a clean back shot.
“CTC! Infantry with anti-armor possible, 780 meters in grid...” I double check my map as the Osprey springs forward with a purpose, “C7. Moving to engage the missiles at range. Someone let the Firestarter know they are hoping for his back.”
I'll be under five-hundred forty meters in mere moments, but I can also see them start moving... to strike! The Firestarter looks like it is beginning to turn away just as they had expected, I need to make them pay before they can fire.
The indicator for range turns green and I squeeze the trigger. Over my head, the dazzling bolt of charged particles crackles as it rips across the intervening space towards the unarmored SRMs.
(edit: spelling)
Edited by cmopatrick, 15 February 2014 - 12:05 AM.
#26
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- 1,026 posts
Member
- Locationa 45 tonner on patrol...
Posted 15 February 2014 - 12:05 AM
Running while firing the PPC is apparently not my strongest suit, I'll need more practice with it. To prove my point, the corner of the hangar where the infantry unit had been hiding is what explodes into a shrapnel laden storm of misery. Dust completely obscures the scene except for what seem to be bodies not far from the smoldering place I just hit.
I'm slowing to a walk and trying to look around enough to be sure I'm not exposed too much myself, until finally the weapon is charged again. I toggle to infrared and can vaguely make out the outline of a truck or two still wreathed in pulverized building and smoke. The nose of one pokes through the shroud and square into my sights.
Again, the crackling thunderclap as the canon fires, light searing from over my head directly at the vehicle. This time the explosion is a satisfying fireball... I hope at least that I hit the missile truck.
Over the open comms, I comment, “Scratch a truck and it looks like maybe an infantry platoon down. Anyone else see this?”
I'm slowing to a walk and trying to look around enough to be sure I'm not exposed too much myself, until finally the weapon is charged again. I toggle to infrared and can vaguely make out the outline of a truck or two still wreathed in pulverized building and smoke. The nose of one pokes through the shroud and square into my sights.
Again, the crackling thunderclap as the canon fires, light searing from over my head directly at the vehicle. This time the explosion is a satisfying fireball... I hope at least that I hit the missile truck.
Over the open comms, I comment, “Scratch a truck and it looks like maybe an infantry platoon down. Anyone else see this?”
#27
Posted 16 February 2014 - 03:11 PM
Comstar Installation #577
Kiew, Midale, Capellan March
15 April, 3035
Federated Suns
"NEXT!! Adept James roared out once he finished with the latest in a long line of customers, a middle aged man with wings of white amongst the temples of his blackish hair. As the man limped off James drifted his gaze over the throng of people crowding the lobby, pressed in like sardines they were pressing up against the blue veined marble columns and tramping dirty feet across the Cameron Star, the insignia of his sacred order inlaid upon the white marbled floor.
Ever since the knowledge of these invaders presence went public, there had been a steady trickle of patrons leaking in. The Adapt even had to double the infantrymen manning the walls of the compound. But ever since... that, he fixed his gaze upon lobby's wall mounted vidcaster showing the news footage from one of the local news teams helicopters circling around a good square kilometers worth of smoldering wreckage with periodically burst of flare ups at random intervals the people have been falling in like a flood.
Part thankful for the distraction of his normal everyday existence and part annoyed with having to break from his hobby of trying to woo the local girls, James looked on as an elderly woman proceeded is way dressed in some neo-Victorian stlye dress complete with matching parasol. The adept pushed thoughts of strapping himself into his battlemech and riding out to meet these invaders and focused on the task at hand; dealing with these mouth breathers. With a heavy sigh, he then pasted a plastic smile upon his face and did his best to greet the classy dressed woman.
"Greetings, and may the Peace of Blake be with you."
*****************************************************************
Barker Homestead
30 Miles South of Cleavstown
Sargent Barker stood on the balcony of his family's farm in the cold Spring rain looking through his set of Rangefinder binoculars. His eyes gazed into the heavens following the progress of the spheroid drop ship. The burn of the massive ships engines were easy to track with the sophisticated rangefinder, but to the naked eye the all too few glimpses he saw of the dropship looked like a slow moving star. He sat the binoculars down for a second and hugged his poncho closer to himself.
"Do you need more coffee Son?"
Sagging his shoulders in frustration, he snapped. "No Mom! You should be getting ready to get out of here, this place is going to be a warzone all too soon." He looked around sadly after saying that.
He also felt pretty bad of having to show up at his parents homestead, a plot of land that had been in the family for generations, in the middle of the night only to wake everyone up and commander it. But the trajectory of the Drop ship landing so close to his family's place made him the best candidate to do it.
Duty is as heavy as a mountain.
"Who do you think they are?" She asked while ignoring him and refilling his coffee.
"Idiots." He shrugged. "We're not sure, other than they jumping in system at a pirate point and quickly began a high G burn planet side." He replied after a pregnant pause.
"I think they are some dirty sneaky Capellan b*stards." She chimed peering up into the cloud heavy sky looking for the dropship.
"Your talking like Dad again. The Cappies are still occupied taking back worlds they lost to the Duchy of Audurien and Magistracy of Canopus, that and the CCAF couldn't fight it's way out of a wet paper bag. So it's probably not them."
"That's a wet paper bag open at both ends." she replied smiling, correcting him befor going back inside to put another pot of Joe on, leaving him alone to concentrate on doing his soldering.
Lightning flashed, splitting the night sky, thunder rumbled. He picked up his glasses again and turned his blue eyes to the skies again. Through the sophisticated equipment he was able to tell that the dropship was noticeably much closer and he could make out a slogan on the weathered exterior bulkhead.
"Kobe Beef?" He quirked his brow up confused.
The ship fired it's retros once more for a final time, setting crops aflame with it's ion jets. The drop ship settled down not to gentle like. It's Mechbay doors fell open as soon as the ship settled down revealing a lightened interior. The turrets on it's side swung back and forth searching for nearby targets in the area. A split second after the door touched the ground the first tank appeared at the top of the ramp, a 75 ton Zhukov. It rumbled down the gangway and was quickly followed by another, and then another. Mike Zoomed in on the lead tank with the Rangefinder, a flash of lighting revealed it to be painted an ugly brick red color with an insignia emblazoned across the front. Another flash exposed it to be a downcast looking bejeweled bull's head with 3 stars between its crestfallen horns.
"The Taurian Concordant? Ole' Calderon must have finally slipped his rocker..." He smiled referring to the Concordant's ruler.
He looked back to the ship in time to see a second lance of armor finish rolling off the drop ship. He smiled thinking his forces were only going to be facing a company of armor when the first mech started strolling off the ship, a gangly looking Wyvern. It was instantly followed by a barrel chested and armed Blackjack, and then a swanky Vindicator. But it was the 70 ton monster silhouetted in the doorway that gave him pause, it's torso swung back and forth making the Warhammer's spotlight's light dance across the tops of the fields of grain. A pair of aerospace fighters screamed overhead rocketing off to the Northeast.
Whatever confidence he had earlier was gone. And he was filled with a grim determination to buy time for reinforcements and to make the intruders pay for daring to step foot in his backyard, literally.
"Jonesy!"
He looked down off the balcony at the huddled figures loitering around the Packrat LTV parked down below. One looked up.
"Get Command on the horn, tell them that the invaders have touched down and are Taurians. Aerospace Fighters are heading their way from our position, models unknown. They are painted with a brick read color scheme, see if the War book has an ID on it."
The PFC jumped into the vehicle to carry out the Sargent's demands. Barker surveyed the enemies progress as they were heading his way down the one and only road in the whole area. The road boadered a thick forest of pine before rounding a bend and heading on to Cleaveston. A quickly brewed plan for an ambush started coming to mind.
"Jonesy!" A second later a hooded head popped out of the LTV.
"Tell Willis and Jackson to move their tanks up to the barn and hide them there. Mechs are to hold up it the woods there by that big boulder. And the rest of the armor are to hide down around the bend out of sight. And see if we can get some backup from the city" Jonesy darted back inside of the Pack rat to radio the commands.
"Now for the fun part..." Mike grumbled sarcastically. Sighing heavily he went to the door and walked in. He found his father in the kitchen, assembling an auto pistol, with an empty coffee mug in front of him.
"Looks like it's going to be a long night." He looked up at his only son. "How bad is it boy?"
"Pretty bad, it's going to get pretty ugly here Da. You better get Ma and get out of here. Get to the city or the cabin." He offered hinting at the family home along Lake Dunkenshire.
The old vet nodded as he finished assembled the pistol without taking his eyes from Mike.
"Give them Hell, Son."
Kiew, Midale, Capellan March
15 April, 3035
Federated Suns
"NEXT!! Adept James roared out once he finished with the latest in a long line of customers, a middle aged man with wings of white amongst the temples of his blackish hair. As the man limped off James drifted his gaze over the throng of people crowding the lobby, pressed in like sardines they were pressing up against the blue veined marble columns and tramping dirty feet across the Cameron Star, the insignia of his sacred order inlaid upon the white marbled floor.
Ever since the knowledge of these invaders presence went public, there had been a steady trickle of patrons leaking in. The Adapt even had to double the infantrymen manning the walls of the compound. But ever since... that, he fixed his gaze upon lobby's wall mounted vidcaster showing the news footage from one of the local news teams helicopters circling around a good square kilometers worth of smoldering wreckage with periodically burst of flare ups at random intervals the people have been falling in like a flood.
Part thankful for the distraction of his normal everyday existence and part annoyed with having to break from his hobby of trying to woo the local girls, James looked on as an elderly woman proceeded is way dressed in some neo-Victorian stlye dress complete with matching parasol. The adept pushed thoughts of strapping himself into his battlemech and riding out to meet these invaders and focused on the task at hand; dealing with these mouth breathers. With a heavy sigh, he then pasted a plastic smile upon his face and did his best to greet the classy dressed woman.
"Greetings, and may the Peace of Blake be with you."
*****************************************************************
Barker Homestead
30 Miles South of Cleavstown
Sargent Barker stood on the balcony of his family's farm in the cold Spring rain looking through his set of Rangefinder binoculars. His eyes gazed into the heavens following the progress of the spheroid drop ship. The burn of the massive ships engines were easy to track with the sophisticated rangefinder, but to the naked eye the all too few glimpses he saw of the dropship looked like a slow moving star. He sat the binoculars down for a second and hugged his poncho closer to himself.
"Do you need more coffee Son?"
Sagging his shoulders in frustration, he snapped. "No Mom! You should be getting ready to get out of here, this place is going to be a warzone all too soon." He looked around sadly after saying that.
He also felt pretty bad of having to show up at his parents homestead, a plot of land that had been in the family for generations, in the middle of the night only to wake everyone up and commander it. But the trajectory of the Drop ship landing so close to his family's place made him the best candidate to do it.
Duty is as heavy as a mountain.
"Who do you think they are?" She asked while ignoring him and refilling his coffee.
"Idiots." He shrugged. "We're not sure, other than they jumping in system at a pirate point and quickly began a high G burn planet side." He replied after a pregnant pause.
"I think they are some dirty sneaky Capellan b*stards." She chimed peering up into the cloud heavy sky looking for the dropship.
"Your talking like Dad again. The Cappies are still occupied taking back worlds they lost to the Duchy of Audurien and Magistracy of Canopus, that and the CCAF couldn't fight it's way out of a wet paper bag. So it's probably not them."
"That's a wet paper bag open at both ends." she replied smiling, correcting him befor going back inside to put another pot of Joe on, leaving him alone to concentrate on doing his soldering.
Lightning flashed, splitting the night sky, thunder rumbled. He picked up his glasses again and turned his blue eyes to the skies again. Through the sophisticated equipment he was able to tell that the dropship was noticeably much closer and he could make out a slogan on the weathered exterior bulkhead.
"Kobe Beef?" He quirked his brow up confused.
The ship fired it's retros once more for a final time, setting crops aflame with it's ion jets. The drop ship settled down not to gentle like. It's Mechbay doors fell open as soon as the ship settled down revealing a lightened interior. The turrets on it's side swung back and forth searching for nearby targets in the area. A split second after the door touched the ground the first tank appeared at the top of the ramp, a 75 ton Zhukov. It rumbled down the gangway and was quickly followed by another, and then another. Mike Zoomed in on the lead tank with the Rangefinder, a flash of lighting revealed it to be painted an ugly brick red color with an insignia emblazoned across the front. Another flash exposed it to be a downcast looking bejeweled bull's head with 3 stars between its crestfallen horns.
"The Taurian Concordant? Ole' Calderon must have finally slipped his rocker..." He smiled referring to the Concordant's ruler.
He looked back to the ship in time to see a second lance of armor finish rolling off the drop ship. He smiled thinking his forces were only going to be facing a company of armor when the first mech started strolling off the ship, a gangly looking Wyvern. It was instantly followed by a barrel chested and armed Blackjack, and then a swanky Vindicator. But it was the 70 ton monster silhouetted in the doorway that gave him pause, it's torso swung back and forth making the Warhammer's spotlight's light dance across the tops of the fields of grain. A pair of aerospace fighters screamed overhead rocketing off to the Northeast.
Whatever confidence he had earlier was gone. And he was filled with a grim determination to buy time for reinforcements and to make the intruders pay for daring to step foot in his backyard, literally.
"Jonesy!"
He looked down off the balcony at the huddled figures loitering around the Packrat LTV parked down below. One looked up.
"Get Command on the horn, tell them that the invaders have touched down and are Taurians. Aerospace Fighters are heading their way from our position, models unknown. They are painted with a brick read color scheme, see if the War book has an ID on it."
The PFC jumped into the vehicle to carry out the Sargent's demands. Barker surveyed the enemies progress as they were heading his way down the one and only road in the whole area. The road boadered a thick forest of pine before rounding a bend and heading on to Cleaveston. A quickly brewed plan for an ambush started coming to mind.
"Jonesy!" A second later a hooded head popped out of the LTV.
"Tell Willis and Jackson to move their tanks up to the barn and hide them there. Mechs are to hold up it the woods there by that big boulder. And the rest of the armor are to hide down around the bend out of sight. And see if we can get some backup from the city" Jonesy darted back inside of the Pack rat to radio the commands.
"Now for the fun part..." Mike grumbled sarcastically. Sighing heavily he went to the door and walked in. He found his father in the kitchen, assembling an auto pistol, with an empty coffee mug in front of him.
"Looks like it's going to be a long night." He looked up at his only son. "How bad is it boy?"
"Pretty bad, it's going to get pretty ugly here Da. You better get Ma and get out of here. Get to the city or the cabin." He offered hinting at the family home along Lake Dunkenshire.
The old vet nodded as he finished assembled the pistol without taking his eyes from Mike.
"Give them Hell, Son."
Edited by Thom Frankfurt, 16 February 2014 - 03:14 PM.
#28
Posted 16 February 2014 - 04:03 PM
[Sorry but I'm not as savy as some of you with the military jargon.]
Yokitz Field
Sundale Operational Area, Midale
Capellan March, Federated Suns
15 April, 3035 -- [ Planetfall + 00:00:02:58 ]
Carl hunkered down even more in his hidey hole as the Taurian mechs began spreading out from the protective cover of the ugly rust colored dropship. One a...Commando, yes that was what it was called, had already nimbly struck down a militia blowing it to smithereens with missiles and a medium grade laser at close range.
Readjusting his Anelex-2000 camera's focus he zoomed out to take in the Taurian dropship ringed with the slowly spreading ring of battlemech guards as the ship and some of the mechs fired away upon the hangers and support buildings ringing Yokitz field.
Blazing like an inferno, the huge colum of fire that was airfields tower collapsed inwards on itself after a torturous groaning sound that he could hear even from this distance of nearly a kilometer away. The journalist snapped off a few more pictures of the blaze but stopped short when he caught a glimpse of a milita tank skulking about in cover of one of the smaller out of the way hangers. Grimacing, Carl zoomed in upon the [I]Tiger[I/] creeped into a firing position.
*********************************************************************
In the (lightly) armored confines of her Raven's cockpit, Sara listened in on her Company's progress absentmindedly. He couldn't stop thinking about the implications of the Black Joke being shot down with all hands lost. This was supposed to be a milk run but they've quickly lost a third of their number and amongst them some of their heaviest and most experienced warriors. As much as she hated to think it, it seemed that some of the mercenaries were referring to as the Midale Milkrun was quickly becoming The Great Midale Massacre.
Keying her mic, Sara whispered in a cool voice. "Assault push forward along bearing 120, towards the blaze. Fractal, take your boyos and swing wide left. Try to flush any defenders out and be sure to put a couple of rounds into anything that looks even remotely suspicious. Everybody else follow me."
With that Shadow throttled her Raven forward cutting slightly to the right close enough to offer support fire for the assault lance if needed.
"Stay frosty people. These Davies are trying to be sporting."
Yokitz Field
Sundale Operational Area, Midale
Capellan March, Federated Suns
15 April, 3035 -- [ Planetfall + 00:00:02:58 ]
Carl hunkered down even more in his hidey hole as the Taurian mechs began spreading out from the protective cover of the ugly rust colored dropship. One a...Commando, yes that was what it was called, had already nimbly struck down a militia blowing it to smithereens with missiles and a medium grade laser at close range.
Readjusting his Anelex-2000 camera's focus he zoomed out to take in the Taurian dropship ringed with the slowly spreading ring of battlemech guards as the ship and some of the mechs fired away upon the hangers and support buildings ringing Yokitz field.
Blazing like an inferno, the huge colum of fire that was airfields tower collapsed inwards on itself after a torturous groaning sound that he could hear even from this distance of nearly a kilometer away. The journalist snapped off a few more pictures of the blaze but stopped short when he caught a glimpse of a milita tank skulking about in cover of one of the smaller out of the way hangers. Grimacing, Carl zoomed in upon the [I]Tiger[I/] creeped into a firing position.
*********************************************************************
In the (lightly) armored confines of her Raven's cockpit, Sara listened in on her Company's progress absentmindedly. He couldn't stop thinking about the implications of the Black Joke being shot down with all hands lost. This was supposed to be a milk run but they've quickly lost a third of their number and amongst them some of their heaviest and most experienced warriors. As much as she hated to think it, it seemed that some of the mercenaries were referring to as the Midale Milkrun was quickly becoming The Great Midale Massacre.
Keying her mic, Sara whispered in a cool voice. "Assault push forward along bearing 120, towards the blaze. Fractal, take your boyos and swing wide left. Try to flush any defenders out and be sure to put a couple of rounds into anything that looks even remotely suspicious. Everybody else follow me."
With that Shadow throttled her Raven forward cutting slightly to the right close enough to offer support fire for the assault lance if needed.
"Stay frosty people. These Davies are trying to be sporting."
#29
Posted 16 February 2014 - 04:12 PM
[OOC Okay, Spokes you and Mr. Spear journey to where the last transmit from the 'Joke. It's smashed up a flaming wreckage strewn over many acres. There is no enemy present, but you do come across the two Stingrays from the Isabella Rae.
Ground pounders, there are still enemy units in the area of the airfield but they are sitting back hoping to ambush you guys when you come forward. But once you flank them they'll most likely break and run, (green troops, poorly equipped, and no mechs.) And of course questions, comments, ideas, are always welcome.
Ground pounders, there are still enemy units in the area of the airfield but they are sitting back hoping to ambush you guys when you come forward. But once you flank them they'll most likely break and run, (green troops, poorly equipped, and no mechs.) And of course questions, comments, ideas, are always welcome.
Edited by Thom Frankfurt, 16 February 2014 - 04:18 PM.
#30
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- Fire
- 304 posts
Member
Posted 17 February 2014 - 01:02 AM
OOC: Assuming this is still the way we have the lances set up.
"Ah I remember this", Alexei butted in interrupting Po, "Things looked dark..."
Yokitz Field, Sundale Operations Area
15 April, 3035
Midale, Capellan March
Federated Suns
Alexei hadn't done much since landing other than take in the thought of loosing the command company and the drop ship. This changed the game, and the stakes are life and death. As much for those in the mercenary group as the group itself. While brooding a voice cut though the rumbling and the heat. "This is Shadow (Sara), spread out and take out the rest of those defending the area, we don't need to be caught by a counter-attack. Shadow out."
"Predatel, copy, we have the south" was Alexei's curt response. Switching to the lance channel, "Predatel here, we are to continue the search for defenders in the southern areas of the DZ, do not stray far" A few copies later they were off looking for anything with a planetary militia insignia.
"Kyle (NPC Vindy) with me, we will take the South west, [Name Archer Pilot], Snake work east."
"These militia members shouldn't pose much of a threat against our Battlemechs, wont hurt to split up." Alexi thought as he called out his orders.
As the Hatchetman rounded a corner near one of the hangers at the southern edge of the airstrip, a volley of light arms fire lit up the early morning. Alexei quickly brought the mechs arm mounted medium lasers to bear on the target as streams of emerald light quickly dissolved any resistance. What was left of its armored shell seemed to be a tank. "No use in wasting precious autocannon ammo on this lot" Infantry were scattering from the area as Tower and his Vindicator jumped over the loading area opposite and let out a volley with his laser array, wiping the infantry from existence. A second volley from the Hatchetman's Defiance B3M lasers finished off the stragglers.
The rest of the sweep went smoothly, as Alexei and Kyle chatted. Alexei through some prying found out Kyle is Sara's (Company Commander) brother (IDK if Thom has other relations decided for them if not...).
"Assault 3 and 4 report in." Alexei called over lance comms after the south west area had been deemed secure.
Spoiler
"Ah I remember this", Alexei butted in interrupting Po, "Things looked dark..."
Yokitz Field, Sundale Operations Area
15 April, 3035
Midale, Capellan March
Federated Suns
Alexei hadn't done much since landing other than take in the thought of loosing the command company and the drop ship. This changed the game, and the stakes are life and death. As much for those in the mercenary group as the group itself. While brooding a voice cut though the rumbling and the heat. "This is Shadow (Sara), spread out and take out the rest of those defending the area, we don't need to be caught by a counter-attack. Shadow out."
"Predatel, copy, we have the south" was Alexei's curt response. Switching to the lance channel, "Predatel here, we are to continue the search for defenders in the southern areas of the DZ, do not stray far" A few copies later they were off looking for anything with a planetary militia insignia.
"Kyle (NPC Vindy) with me, we will take the South west, [Name Archer Pilot], Snake work east."
"These militia members shouldn't pose much of a threat against our Battlemechs, wont hurt to split up." Alexi thought as he called out his orders.
As the Hatchetman rounded a corner near one of the hangers at the southern edge of the airstrip, a volley of light arms fire lit up the early morning. Alexei quickly brought the mechs arm mounted medium lasers to bear on the target as streams of emerald light quickly dissolved any resistance. What was left of its armored shell seemed to be a tank. "No use in wasting precious autocannon ammo on this lot" Infantry were scattering from the area as Tower and his Vindicator jumped over the loading area opposite and let out a volley with his laser array, wiping the infantry from existence. A second volley from the Hatchetman's Defiance B3M lasers finished off the stragglers.
The rest of the sweep went smoothly, as Alexei and Kyle chatted. Alexei through some prying found out Kyle is Sara's (Company Commander) brother (IDK if Thom has other relations decided for them if not...).
"Assault 3 and 4 report in." Alexei called over lance comms after the south west area had been deemed secure.
#31
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- Urban Commando
- 1,308 posts
Member
- LocationNRW, Germany
Posted 17 February 2014 - 04:14 AM
Yokitz Field
Sundale Operational Area, Midale
Capellan March, Federated Suns
15 April, 3035 -- [ Planetfall + 00:00:03:30]
Aravind was close to firing a round a the Launcher himself if it hadn't meant breaking formation. However, in hindsight, this was probably the right move. There is no way that launcher just happened to be here and intel doesn't suggest a military base close by.
"An ambush unit." he muttered to himself, enlarging the image of the mission grid on his screen. "Having lost one launcher preemtively, they are probably careful to not move too much. Crazy ******* probably broke formation but it gives us quite a bit to work with." His eyes wandered from the map back to his surroundings, searching for possible cover for armored units. "The woods are thick and the climate disrups our sensors... not exactly to our advantage... Looks perfect for a flanking tactic, doesn't it?" His diagnostic software disruped him for a second. <<Ammunition Feed diagnostic complete. Minor structural damage to magazines. Ammunition belt fully operational.>> "Looks like I got lucky. Anyway, let's assume this was roughly where the launcher was supposed to wait in ambush. Since a launcher as demonstrated cannot withstand much fire, a common strategy would be to draw fire with vehicles that can withstand some damage, usually tanks, so the launchers can get a clear shot at the back." His attention focuses to the direction opposite to where the launcher was shot down. "First, mutiple tanks engage in direct combat... our immediate response would then be to return fire... that's when the launchers would have struck... I'm guessing there are either two more tank units at our leftover flanks to spread our fire or one tank unit and some more launchers with heavy escort..."
He opened his comm-line "This is Martini," he supressed a small chuckle "requesting permission to break formation to check grids C5, B6 and D6 for possible hostiles."
Sundale Operational Area, Midale
Capellan March, Federated Suns
15 April, 3035 -- [ Planetfall + 00:00:03:30]
Aravind was close to firing a round a the Launcher himself if it hadn't meant breaking formation. However, in hindsight, this was probably the right move. There is no way that launcher just happened to be here and intel doesn't suggest a military base close by.
"An ambush unit." he muttered to himself, enlarging the image of the mission grid on his screen. "Having lost one launcher preemtively, they are probably careful to not move too much. Crazy ******* probably broke formation but it gives us quite a bit to work with." His eyes wandered from the map back to his surroundings, searching for possible cover for armored units. "The woods are thick and the climate disrups our sensors... not exactly to our advantage... Looks perfect for a flanking tactic, doesn't it?" His diagnostic software disruped him for a second. <<Ammunition Feed diagnostic complete. Minor structural damage to magazines. Ammunition belt fully operational.>> "Looks like I got lucky. Anyway, let's assume this was roughly where the launcher was supposed to wait in ambush. Since a launcher as demonstrated cannot withstand much fire, a common strategy would be to draw fire with vehicles that can withstand some damage, usually tanks, so the launchers can get a clear shot at the back." His attention focuses to the direction opposite to where the launcher was shot down. "First, mutiple tanks engage in direct combat... our immediate response would then be to return fire... that's when the launchers would have struck... I'm guessing there are either two more tank units at our leftover flanks to spread our fire or one tank unit and some more launchers with heavy escort..."
He opened his comm-line "This is Martini," he supressed a small chuckle "requesting permission to break formation to check grids C5, B6 and D6 for possible hostiles."
Edited by SethAbercromby, 25 February 2014 - 07:05 AM.
#32
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- 574 posts
Member
Posted 17 February 2014 - 06:25 PM
Sundale Operational Area, Midale
Capellan March, Federated Suns
15 April, 3035 -- [ Planetfall + 00:00:05:34 ]
The shadows in the cockpit shifted as Chāo pulled her fighter through a shallow turn that left the sunrise parked just over her starboard wing.
"Black Joke, Black Joke, this is King Two, come back, over."
The TR-7's computer was busy chewing on the few faint signals originating from the direction of the Black Joke's assigned descent corridor and landing area, but so far there had been nothing but static from the pre-planned frequencies listed in the mission log. Chāo grimaced, hit a button on the console that restarted the frequency sweep on radio receiver. The interceptor pricked its ears, listened and waited.
The suspicious looking cloud was gone, or at least hidden from view by the intensifying glare from the sun. Chāo did a quick sweep of the horizon before turning back to her instruments. Holding position so far from friendly support while broadcasting towards a known enemy position could be considered courting disaster, but her Thrush was built for speed and could out run most other fighters before they could seriously threaten her. Her wingman, on the other hand, would be at risk if he strayed too far from the Crimson King's fire envelope.
"Black Joke, Black Joke, this is King Two, come back, over."
Dropships were big, powerful, and generally treated as the near Lostech objects they were. Many pilots went their entire careers without ever seeing a Dropship seriously threatened, let alone shot down. Chāo had seen enough during the Fourth Succession War to not be overly shaken by the Black Joke's continued silence, but the lack of a distress signal was worrying. She hadn't expected the local militia to have enough air assets to bring down a Dropship that quickly. . .
There was a quick blip of sound in her helmet, a light flashing on the comm panel as the computer locked onto a weak signal on one of their approved frequencies.
"Mayday, Ma----, Mayday! Joke flig----questing immed----sssssstanccce! Repeat, Joke flig"
There was a pop of static on the line, followed by a drawn out noise that sounded a bit like water hitting a hot pan. The signal was very faint, the words heavy with an electronic warble as the comm system struggled to clean up the transmission.
Chāo keyed her mic. "Joke flight, this is King Two. Reading you one by two. What is your sta. . ."
An electronic screech swallowed the rest of her broadcast. "The Black Jok----hot down! We nee-----lost power and broke up one hundred kays west of----We need help dammit!"
Chāo's eyes reflexively shot across her console at the sound of the master alarm, her brain catching up a second later as she realized the sound was coming over the radio. It was oddly clear over the rest of the garble.
"n't get this guy off me! Joke Two b---k hard left! Break, bre---" There was a final, desperate burst of static that almost masked the sound of a human scream, and then the line went dead.
Chāo's only reaction was a slight tightening of her eyes, invisible behind the polarized faceplate.
The momentary silence was broken by her fighter's radar warning alarm, the winking threat light indicating a flash from a hostile search radar. The horizon rolled sharply to one side and then peeled away as Chāo dropped her interceptor into a spiraling dive, the warning light winking off as she twisted out of the radar beam.
The radio came back on, the King's XO loud in her ear. "King Two, we see you maneuvering. Have you establish. . ."
She cut the man off with a sharp stab of the transmit key. "Joke Flight reports the Black Joke has broken up short of the target LZ." The warning alarm sounded again and she glared at it, added more power to the dive, the light winking off as the offending search radar dropped below the horizon.
"Joke Flight is combat ineffective, hostile search radars scanning this bearing from the direction of the Joke's landing area. King Two returning to operational altitude, over."
The radio was silent a long moment. "Crimson King acknowledges King Two, five by five. Regroup with King One and standby for further instructions. Out."
Capellan March, Federated Suns
15 April, 3035 -- [ Planetfall + 00:00:05:34 ]
The shadows in the cockpit shifted as Chāo pulled her fighter through a shallow turn that left the sunrise parked just over her starboard wing.
"Black Joke, Black Joke, this is King Two, come back, over."
The TR-7's computer was busy chewing on the few faint signals originating from the direction of the Black Joke's assigned descent corridor and landing area, but so far there had been nothing but static from the pre-planned frequencies listed in the mission log. Chāo grimaced, hit a button on the console that restarted the frequency sweep on radio receiver. The interceptor pricked its ears, listened and waited.
The suspicious looking cloud was gone, or at least hidden from view by the intensifying glare from the sun. Chāo did a quick sweep of the horizon before turning back to her instruments. Holding position so far from friendly support while broadcasting towards a known enemy position could be considered courting disaster, but her Thrush was built for speed and could out run most other fighters before they could seriously threaten her. Her wingman, on the other hand, would be at risk if he strayed too far from the Crimson King's fire envelope.
"Black Joke, Black Joke, this is King Two, come back, over."
Dropships were big, powerful, and generally treated as the near Lostech objects they were. Many pilots went their entire careers without ever seeing a Dropship seriously threatened, let alone shot down. Chāo had seen enough during the Fourth Succession War to not be overly shaken by the Black Joke's continued silence, but the lack of a distress signal was worrying. She hadn't expected the local militia to have enough air assets to bring down a Dropship that quickly. . .
There was a quick blip of sound in her helmet, a light flashing on the comm panel as the computer locked onto a weak signal on one of their approved frequencies.
"Mayday, Ma----, Mayday! Joke flig----questing immed----sssssstanccce! Repeat, Joke flig"
There was a pop of static on the line, followed by a drawn out noise that sounded a bit like water hitting a hot pan. The signal was very faint, the words heavy with an electronic warble as the comm system struggled to clean up the transmission.
Chāo keyed her mic. "Joke flight, this is King Two. Reading you one by two. What is your sta. . ."
An electronic screech swallowed the rest of her broadcast. "The Black Jok----hot down! We nee-----lost power and broke up one hundred kays west of----We need help dammit!"
Chāo's eyes reflexively shot across her console at the sound of the master alarm, her brain catching up a second later as she realized the sound was coming over the radio. It was oddly clear over the rest of the garble.
"n't get this guy off me! Joke Two b---k hard left! Break, bre---" There was a final, desperate burst of static that almost masked the sound of a human scream, and then the line went dead.
Chāo's only reaction was a slight tightening of her eyes, invisible behind the polarized faceplate.
The momentary silence was broken by her fighter's radar warning alarm, the winking threat light indicating a flash from a hostile search radar. The horizon rolled sharply to one side and then peeled away as Chāo dropped her interceptor into a spiraling dive, the warning light winking off as she twisted out of the radar beam.
The radio came back on, the King's XO loud in her ear. "King Two, we see you maneuvering. Have you establish. . ."
She cut the man off with a sharp stab of the transmit key. "Joke Flight reports the Black Joke has broken up short of the target LZ." The warning alarm sounded again and she glared at it, added more power to the dive, the light winking off as the offending search radar dropped below the horizon.
"Joke Flight is combat ineffective, hostile search radars scanning this bearing from the direction of the Joke's landing area. King Two returning to operational altitude, over."
The radio was silent a long moment. "Crimson King acknowledges King Two, five by five. Regroup with King One and standby for further instructions. Out."
#33
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- Bridesmaid
- 2,953 posts
Member
- LocationAdelaide, Australia
Posted 25 February 2014 - 02:12 AM
Yokitz Field
Sundale Operational Area, Midale
Capellan March, Federated Suns
15 April, 3035 -- [Planetfall + 00:00:03:10]
Sasha cursed. When he’d suggested the locals “grab what was precious” to them, he’d hadn’t meant their favourite anti-armour missile launcher. Bloody Davies. Well, if they wanted to be targets…
“Assault push forward along bearing 120, towards the blaze,” he heard Sara command, “Fractal, take your boyos and swing wide left. Try to flush any defenders out and be sure to put a couple of rounds into anything that looks even remotely suspicious. Everybody else follow me.”
“Roger that, Shadow,” Sasha replied, before switching to his lance frequency, “Scout lance, we’re swinging left to cut off these militia while the rest of company take ‘em from the front. Shoot anything suspicious.”
“This is Martini,” came the Griffin pilot’s voice over the comm, "requesting permission to break formation to check grids C5, B6, and D6 for possible hostiles.”
Sasha glanced over the map. Aravind had a point, those woods were a good place to hide a flanking force. “Granted, Martini. You sweep through C5 and D6, in that order, then meet up with us on the far side of C7. I’ll swing through B6 on my way with the rest of the lance. If you find something, call it and fall back, I don’t want you falling into an ambush yourself.”
Sundale Operational Area, Midale
Capellan March, Federated Suns
15 April, 3035 -- [Planetfall + 00:00:03:10]
Sasha cursed. When he’d suggested the locals “grab what was precious” to them, he’d hadn’t meant their favourite anti-armour missile launcher. Bloody Davies. Well, if they wanted to be targets…
“Assault push forward along bearing 120, towards the blaze,” he heard Sara command, “Fractal, take your boyos and swing wide left. Try to flush any defenders out and be sure to put a couple of rounds into anything that looks even remotely suspicious. Everybody else follow me.”
“Roger that, Shadow,” Sasha replied, before switching to his lance frequency, “Scout lance, we’re swinging left to cut off these militia while the rest of company take ‘em from the front. Shoot anything suspicious.”
“This is Martini,” came the Griffin pilot’s voice over the comm, "requesting permission to break formation to check grids C5, B6, and D6 for possible hostiles.”
Sasha glanced over the map. Aravind had a point, those woods were a good place to hide a flanking force. “Granted, Martini. You sweep through C5 and D6, in that order, then meet up with us on the far side of C7. I’ll swing through B6 on my way with the rest of the lance. If you find something, call it and fall back, I don’t want you falling into an ambush yourself.”
#34
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- Philanthropist
- 4,525 posts
Member
- Locationsomewhere near a bucket of water and the gates of hell.
Posted 25 February 2014 - 08:54 PM
Yokitz Field
Sundale Operational Area, Midale
Capellan March, Federated Suns
15 April, 3035 -- [ Planetfall + 00:00:02:58 ]
It had been a quiet few minutes after the dropship had landed, and the mechs were finally all on the ground. The crimson king was currently in the process of buttoning up so no infantry unit could try to sneak up on it and jack it.
"Assault push forward along bearing 120, towards the blaze. Fractal, take your boyos and swing wide left. Try to flush any defenders out and be sure to put a couple of rounds into anything that looks even remotely suspicious. Everybody else follow me." the radio blurted out as their commander gave them their marching orders.
"Predatel here, we are to continue the search for defenders in the southern areas of the DZ, do not stray far" chimed in their lance commander before saying "Kyle with me, we will take the South west, Fat Tony1, Snake work east."
" Roger" Kasuga said before adding "don't worry Predatel, I will keep the big guy safe."
With this she took off at a walk towards the direction assigned to them. She was in front, and the archer was covering her with its heavier firepower. It might have better armor, but it needed to keep its distance to be useful, so her Panther that was half its weight had to take point.
She angled her way towards a set of low warehouses, nearly a half kilometer distant. While too short to hide battlemechs, they would have been capable of housing vehicles. As she walker her panther around a corner, she was buffeted by weapons fire. A pair of tanks had packed themselves into an alley. She wasn't familiar with the design, but whatever they were shooting wasn't doing much more than chipping paint. Another barrage came and went, and her armor didn't even turn yellow from receiving any damage.
"Those guys should have figured out their weapons don't affect mechs" Kasuga said to herself.
She puller her arm up and attempted to fire a particle beam at the tanks, who started to throw it into reverse. But the beam did not fire, instead flashing a message saying field inhibitor active.
field inhibitor... field inhibitor... WAIT, that's the thingy that stops the ppc from firing at short range. she thought as the cannon refused to fire.
Looking at the range she saw that the tanks were at a mere 60 meters. The PPC had a field inhibitor that stopped it from firing at short ranges due to the electrical interference of the shot damaging the cannon.
Taking a couple of steps back, she brought the cannon back up and flashed the tanks with all the fury of a star as they passed 90 meters, slagging both of the light vehicles in a single shot.
"Having trouble there?" Fat Tony asked inquisitively.
"Sorry, I'm not used to particle cannons, I used to pilot a Jenner." Kasuga lied to avoid the embarrassment of being a complete rookie when it came to mechs. This was her first combat run as a pilot, all of her previous experience was in infantry units.
"Just remember the minimum range last time. We can't have you taking damage because you can't remember to stay outside of 90 meters."
"It won't happen again..." Kasuga ended the conversation. The rest of the sweep went smoothly, the enemies in the airport were either hiding or had already fled, at least for their section of the field.
"Assault 3 and 4 report in." Alexei called over lance comms.
"We found a couple of small tanks, but that is it. There might be something in these warehouses, but we aren't equipped to tell and i would rather not try and wade into the building." She responded.
_____________________________________________________________________________________
Not my best work, but it is something at least.
1: kinda just wanted to name the archer that.
Sundale Operational Area, Midale
Capellan March, Federated Suns
15 April, 3035 -- [ Planetfall + 00:00:02:58 ]
It had been a quiet few minutes after the dropship had landed, and the mechs were finally all on the ground. The crimson king was currently in the process of buttoning up so no infantry unit could try to sneak up on it and jack it.
"Assault push forward along bearing 120, towards the blaze. Fractal, take your boyos and swing wide left. Try to flush any defenders out and be sure to put a couple of rounds into anything that looks even remotely suspicious. Everybody else follow me." the radio blurted out as their commander gave them their marching orders.
"Predatel here, we are to continue the search for defenders in the southern areas of the DZ, do not stray far" chimed in their lance commander before saying "Kyle with me, we will take the South west, Fat Tony1, Snake work east."
" Roger" Kasuga said before adding "don't worry Predatel, I will keep the big guy safe."
With this she took off at a walk towards the direction assigned to them. She was in front, and the archer was covering her with its heavier firepower. It might have better armor, but it needed to keep its distance to be useful, so her Panther that was half its weight had to take point.
She angled her way towards a set of low warehouses, nearly a half kilometer distant. While too short to hide battlemechs, they would have been capable of housing vehicles. As she walker her panther around a corner, she was buffeted by weapons fire. A pair of tanks had packed themselves into an alley. She wasn't familiar with the design, but whatever they were shooting wasn't doing much more than chipping paint. Another barrage came and went, and her armor didn't even turn yellow from receiving any damage.
"Those guys should have figured out their weapons don't affect mechs" Kasuga said to herself.
She puller her arm up and attempted to fire a particle beam at the tanks, who started to throw it into reverse. But the beam did not fire, instead flashing a message saying field inhibitor active.
field inhibitor... field inhibitor... WAIT, that's the thingy that stops the ppc from firing at short range. she thought as the cannon refused to fire.
Looking at the range she saw that the tanks were at a mere 60 meters. The PPC had a field inhibitor that stopped it from firing at short ranges due to the electrical interference of the shot damaging the cannon.
Taking a couple of steps back, she brought the cannon back up and flashed the tanks with all the fury of a star as they passed 90 meters, slagging both of the light vehicles in a single shot.
"Having trouble there?" Fat Tony asked inquisitively.
"Sorry, I'm not used to particle cannons, I used to pilot a Jenner." Kasuga lied to avoid the embarrassment of being a complete rookie when it came to mechs. This was her first combat run as a pilot, all of her previous experience was in infantry units.
"Just remember the minimum range last time. We can't have you taking damage because you can't remember to stay outside of 90 meters."
"It won't happen again..." Kasuga ended the conversation. The rest of the sweep went smoothly, the enemies in the airport were either hiding or had already fled, at least for their section of the field.
"Assault 3 and 4 report in." Alexei called over lance comms.
"We found a couple of small tanks, but that is it. There might be something in these warehouses, but we aren't equipped to tell and i would rather not try and wade into the building." She responded.
_____________________________________________________________________________________
Not my best work, but it is something at least.
1: kinda just wanted to name the archer that.
#35
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- Little Helper
- 215 posts
Member
- LocationAdelaide, South Australia
Posted 26 February 2014 - 08:35 PM
Yokitz Field
Sundale Operational Area, Midale
Capellan March, Federated Suns
15 April, 3035 -- [ Planetfall + 00:00:02:58 ]
From the cockpit of her Wolverine (still dripping red paint), Momma Cass surveyed the Scout Lance’s handiwork. The flames belching from the ruined control tower painted a truly joyful landscape before her.
Directing the Badger to trot nimbly down the King’s gangway, Cass gleefully patted the command mech’s elaborate comm system’s housing directly above the button hot-keyed to Sasha’s direct line.
“Who’s a good little lance commander? You are!”
The barracks, civil aviation terminal, and rental car return lot had all been spared, with nary a civvie in sight. Sasha had done as he was told.
Forming up on the company leader out of decades old habit, She watched as the scouts moved off and the assault lance pushed through the remainder of the buildings sprawling outward from the airfield.
PPC fire flashed the same colour as her comms board lights as contact was made and combat calls barked.
"Assault push forward along bearing 120, towards the blaze. Fractal, take your boyos and swing wide left. Try to flush any defenders out and be sure to put a couple of rounds into anything that looks even remotely suspicious. Everybody else follow me."
"Predatel, copy, we have the south"
"Stay frosty people. These Davvies are trying to be sporting."
“Aint decent Davvies if they weren’t!” Cass chimed in, defrosting the ice buildup on the conversation.
A dropship down, mission in peril, an obedient lance commander and a hot LZ? She sighed happily.
This was her idea of good ol’ fashioned dust-up.
She punched a button and opened a hard channel to the Raven loping on in front of her.
“I’m your Shadow, Shadow darlin’. You point, an’ I whallop”
Sundale Operational Area, Midale
Capellan March, Federated Suns
15 April, 3035 -- [ Planetfall + 00:00:02:58 ]
From the cockpit of her Wolverine (still dripping red paint), Momma Cass surveyed the Scout Lance’s handiwork. The flames belching from the ruined control tower painted a truly joyful landscape before her.
Directing the Badger to trot nimbly down the King’s gangway, Cass gleefully patted the command mech’s elaborate comm system’s housing directly above the button hot-keyed to Sasha’s direct line.
“Who’s a good little lance commander? You are!”
The barracks, civil aviation terminal, and rental car return lot had all been spared, with nary a civvie in sight. Sasha had done as he was told.
Forming up on the company leader out of decades old habit, She watched as the scouts moved off and the assault lance pushed through the remainder of the buildings sprawling outward from the airfield.
PPC fire flashed the same colour as her comms board lights as contact was made and combat calls barked.
"Assault push forward along bearing 120, towards the blaze. Fractal, take your boyos and swing wide left. Try to flush any defenders out and be sure to put a couple of rounds into anything that looks even remotely suspicious. Everybody else follow me."
"Predatel, copy, we have the south"
"Stay frosty people. These Davvies are trying to be sporting."
“Aint decent Davvies if they weren’t!” Cass chimed in, defrosting the ice buildup on the conversation.
A dropship down, mission in peril, an obedient lance commander and a hot LZ? She sighed happily.
This was her idea of good ol’ fashioned dust-up.
She punched a button and opened a hard channel to the Raven loping on in front of her.
“I’m your Shadow, Shadow darlin’. You point, an’ I whallop”
#36
Posted 12 March 2014 - 05:45 PM
Cleavston Midale, Capellan March
15 April, 3035
Federated Suns
"Whoa Grettle you seeing what I'm seeing?" pilot PJ Allen positively beamed over the channel shared with her wingman Gretchen 'Grettle' Karlsdorf as she peered out over the port side of her F-90Stingray's canopy. The scene she was beaming about was the squat sprawling metropolis of Cleavston with the long string of fleeing refugees cars clogging the roadways leaving the town with angry red tail lights trailing off towards some nearby mountainous lake side community 60 Km distant.
"Let's go take a buzzy by them!" She squealed with a silly chuckle to Grettle." Whatever response Gret was going to offer was cut off by suddenly as her communication system squawked for her attention. "Rae 1, this is Rae Actual, over?"
The Dropship? "Yeah go ahead, Actual." PJ frowned as her FFI system light up informing her that there were bad guys mixed in with the refugees heading towards the mountains. "One, please process to Nav DS5289 along bearing 145. Report any findings. Actual over." The line went dead with a rough burst of static.
"Well you heard the boy-man, let's fly, Gret." With that Rae flight turned about and proceeded towards the last known location of the Black Joke.
******************************************************
Yokitz Field
Sundale Operational Area, Midale
Capellan March, Federated Suns
15 April, 3035 -- [ Planetfall + 00:00:02:58 ]
Sargent Terry George cackled as the Commando ran right across the Harasser's cross hairs. With a mighty swoosh and a Hellish backlash of a dozen sixty millimeter missiles taking off the cackled died and he turned to shout into the crew compartment.
"Let's get out of here!" After a second dragged by he looked back through his scope to survey the minimal damage his barrage unleashed upon the battlemech. He was happy to feel the Harasser's engine rev to life as the hover fighting vehicle sped off to a new position.
**********************************
From his commander's position in his Merkava Tim watched on with a sort of detached horror. The militia's centuries outdated equipment while still destructive wasn't up to par with battlemechs. What he needed was something to soften the mechs up so his unit's inferior weaponry could punch through their armor. Maybe some fighter's or artillery...
15 April, 3035
Federated Suns
"Whoa Grettle you seeing what I'm seeing?" pilot PJ Allen positively beamed over the channel shared with her wingman Gretchen 'Grettle' Karlsdorf as she peered out over the port side of her F-90Stingray's canopy. The scene she was beaming about was the squat sprawling metropolis of Cleavston with the long string of fleeing refugees cars clogging the roadways leaving the town with angry red tail lights trailing off towards some nearby mountainous lake side community 60 Km distant.
"Let's go take a buzzy by them!" She squealed with a silly chuckle to Grettle." Whatever response Gret was going to offer was cut off by suddenly as her communication system squawked for her attention. "Rae 1, this is Rae Actual, over?"
The Dropship? "Yeah go ahead, Actual." PJ frowned as her FFI system light up informing her that there were bad guys mixed in with the refugees heading towards the mountains. "One, please process to Nav DS5289 along bearing 145. Report any findings. Actual over." The line went dead with a rough burst of static.
"Well you heard the boy-man, let's fly, Gret." With that Rae flight turned about and proceeded towards the last known location of the Black Joke.
******************************************************
Yokitz Field
Sundale Operational Area, Midale
Capellan March, Federated Suns
15 April, 3035 -- [ Planetfall + 00:00:02:58 ]
Sargent Terry George cackled as the Commando ran right across the Harasser's cross hairs. With a mighty swoosh and a Hellish backlash of a dozen sixty millimeter missiles taking off the cackled died and he turned to shout into the crew compartment.
"Let's get out of here!" After a second dragged by he looked back through his scope to survey the minimal damage his barrage unleashed upon the battlemech. He was happy to feel the Harasser's engine rev to life as the hover fighting vehicle sped off to a new position.
**********************************
From his commander's position in his Merkava Tim watched on with a sort of detached horror. The militia's centuries outdated equipment while still destructive wasn't up to par with battlemechs. What he needed was something to soften the mechs up so his unit's inferior weaponry could punch through their armor. Maybe some fighter's or artillery...
#37
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- 1,026 posts
Member
- Locationa 45 tonner on patrol...
Posted 27 March 2014 - 03:22 PM
The Captain seems to be thinking an awful lot. I turn back for the perimeter while the Assault lance and the scouts have a grand old time flushing the riffraff out of their holes. But the Captain is unmoving, and certainly not giving the three of us any orders. I walk at two thirds power back to circle the Crimson King and begin my perimeter march around her again. In the glaring sun the aged Union looks even more like a dilapidated rust bucket that I can hardly excuse myself for ever entering.
Things seem to have gone from marginal to untenable. The Colonel is presumed dead and we are being led by an indecisive Captain who is just standing there... what if some spotter is right now calling in range to the CK itself?
Bombers wouldn't really hurt the aged dropship... at least not right away. Then again, a good arty barrage might crack that thing enough that we could be left walking home. Heck, our fearless leader in that Raven might even get taken out as collateral damage while she sits uselessly still.
Maybe she is communicating with someone. I need to respect her leadership, but this standing motionless certainly appears to be weakness. Again and again I orbit the Crimson King, watching the other two of our lance and getting more agitated each time I pass her position. Is she in command of a Raven but not of her fears? I imagine her, petrified, sitting, trying to make herself move. How did I feel at my first combat? No, she was supposed to have been in combat before... wasn't she?
Finally, I can wait no longer. “Orders?” I ask on our channel, trying not to let my frustration show. “Captain? Do you have orders for the lance?”
The silence has lasted for a minute or two. Without preamble, the Captain finally keys up, “Assault push forward along bearing 120, towards the blaze. Fractal, take your boyos and swing wide left. Try to flush any defenders out and be sure to put a couple of rounds into anything that looks even remotely suspicious. Everybody else follow me."
I swing around to take a skirmish line position to her right, expecting her to move for targets... But she is slowly walking, angling a bit right as if she wants us to be able to cover the Assaults.
I'm rather confused by her lack of haste... or even the appearance of wanting to take the fight to this rather thin group of wannabe fighters. What is she thinking... it just doesn't make sense.
She keys up again, "Stay frosty people. These Davies are trying to be sporting."
Without keying, I say to my cockpit, “If you say so.”
Things seem to have gone from marginal to untenable. The Colonel is presumed dead and we are being led by an indecisive Captain who is just standing there... what if some spotter is right now calling in range to the CK itself?
Bombers wouldn't really hurt the aged dropship... at least not right away. Then again, a good arty barrage might crack that thing enough that we could be left walking home. Heck, our fearless leader in that Raven might even get taken out as collateral damage while she sits uselessly still.
Maybe she is communicating with someone. I need to respect her leadership, but this standing motionless certainly appears to be weakness. Again and again I orbit the Crimson King, watching the other two of our lance and getting more agitated each time I pass her position. Is she in command of a Raven but not of her fears? I imagine her, petrified, sitting, trying to make herself move. How did I feel at my first combat? No, she was supposed to have been in combat before... wasn't she?
Finally, I can wait no longer. “Orders?” I ask on our channel, trying not to let my frustration show. “Captain? Do you have orders for the lance?”
The silence has lasted for a minute or two. Without preamble, the Captain finally keys up, “Assault push forward along bearing 120, towards the blaze. Fractal, take your boyos and swing wide left. Try to flush any defenders out and be sure to put a couple of rounds into anything that looks even remotely suspicious. Everybody else follow me."
I swing around to take a skirmish line position to her right, expecting her to move for targets... But she is slowly walking, angling a bit right as if she wants us to be able to cover the Assaults.
I'm rather confused by her lack of haste... or even the appearance of wanting to take the fight to this rather thin group of wannabe fighters. What is she thinking... it just doesn't make sense.
She keys up again, "Stay frosty people. These Davies are trying to be sporting."
Without keying, I say to my cockpit, “If you say so.”
Edited by cmopatrick, 27 March 2014 - 03:24 PM.
#38
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- Urban Commando
- 1,308 posts
Member
- LocationNRW, Germany
Posted 30 March 2014 - 09:38 AM
Yokitz Field
Sundale Operational Area, Midale
Capellan March, Federated Suns
15 April, 3035 -- [Planetfall + 00:00:03:30]
“Granted, Martini. You sweep through C5 and D6, in that order, then meet up with us on the far side of C7. I’ll swing through B6 on my way with the rest of the lance. If you find something, call it and fall back, I don’t want you falling into an ambush yourself.”
"Acknowledged. Moving towards C5. Martini, out." A quick flip of a switch deactivated transmission for his microphone. "Sam, set visual to radial, enlarge combat data." The System quietly registered the command with a beep and rearranged the visual display into four large screens with rear view right above front view in the center and right and left view next to them respectively. While reducing the view of the satellite map on his Neurohelmet display, the display begins to show a number of combat information, including 'Mech and weapons status, speed, targeting data, distance and estimated target speed (which is calculated from triangulating distance and angle from the targeting feed in relation to the 'Mechs GPS movement. The calculation uses heavily rounded numbers for performance reasons and is updated less frequently).
"I'll cut through B5 to avoid the minimum range of the PPC and can keep the momentum to move through D6 before they have time to react." Aravind explained into his cockpit. He somewhat kept up his patrol movement until he was closed in on his target position, them quickly broke formation and began to circle into the woods next to him, taking turns with his DI to dodge around the trees and watching his screens for hostiles.
The brick red of the Taurian forces didn't offer much camouflage in the woods so it didn't take long for Aravind to get spotted. A projectile from a tank impacted with the right shoulder of his 'Mech, giving away the its hiding spot. His retaliation with the PPC impacted with the ground quite a bit off target, as it proved just as difficult to aim on the move while dodging trees as expected. The round was instead intended to intimidate the tank's crew a little. Moving forther around the tank's position, Aravind is greeted by a SRM salvo, which at over 150 meter range almost completely impacts with the trees. Stopping his 'Mech and assisting his aim with visual zoom, his next shot didn't miss its target, impacting with the launch-pad, tearing the mobile launcher apart. The resulting fire gave Aravind the light necessary to identify the remaining hostiles which, in turn, returned fire. He took a few breaths before move into better coverage to avoid unnecessary damage.
"Martini here, multiple hostiles confirmed at C5. One launcher and two- no three tanks. They've dug in well, but their armament seems quite outdated."
Sundale Operational Area, Midale
Capellan March, Federated Suns
15 April, 3035 -- [Planetfall + 00:00:03:30]
“Granted, Martini. You sweep through C5 and D6, in that order, then meet up with us on the far side of C7. I’ll swing through B6 on my way with the rest of the lance. If you find something, call it and fall back, I don’t want you falling into an ambush yourself.”
"Acknowledged. Moving towards C5. Martini, out." A quick flip of a switch deactivated transmission for his microphone. "Sam, set visual to radial, enlarge combat data." The System quietly registered the command with a beep and rearranged the visual display into four large screens with rear view right above front view in the center and right and left view next to them respectively. While reducing the view of the satellite map on his Neurohelmet display, the display begins to show a number of combat information, including 'Mech and weapons status, speed, targeting data, distance and estimated target speed (which is calculated from triangulating distance and angle from the targeting feed in relation to the 'Mechs GPS movement. The calculation uses heavily rounded numbers for performance reasons and is updated less frequently).
"I'll cut through B5 to avoid the minimum range of the PPC and can keep the momentum to move through D6 before they have time to react." Aravind explained into his cockpit. He somewhat kept up his patrol movement until he was closed in on his target position, them quickly broke formation and began to circle into the woods next to him, taking turns with his DI to dodge around the trees and watching his screens for hostiles.
The brick red of the Taurian forces didn't offer much camouflage in the woods so it didn't take long for Aravind to get spotted. A projectile from a tank impacted with the right shoulder of his 'Mech, giving away the its hiding spot. His retaliation with the PPC impacted with the ground quite a bit off target, as it proved just as difficult to aim on the move while dodging trees as expected. The round was instead intended to intimidate the tank's crew a little. Moving forther around the tank's position, Aravind is greeted by a SRM salvo, which at over 150 meter range almost completely impacts with the trees. Stopping his 'Mech and assisting his aim with visual zoom, his next shot didn't miss its target, impacting with the launch-pad, tearing the mobile launcher apart. The resulting fire gave Aravind the light necessary to identify the remaining hostiles which, in turn, returned fire. He took a few breaths before move into better coverage to avoid unnecessary damage.
"Martini here, multiple hostiles confirmed at C5. One launcher and two- no three tanks. They've dug in well, but their armament seems quite outdated."
#39
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- Urban Commando
- 1,308 posts
Member
- LocationNRW, Germany
Posted 25 April 2014 - 11:41 AM
Yokitz Field
Sundale Operational Area, Midale
Capellan March, Federated Suns
15 April, 3035 -- [Planetfall + 00:00:04:30]
Instead of a response, Aravind was greeted by static feedback. The comms system was about as old as the Chassis itself and didn't seem to handle the environment very well. "Great! No targeting feeds, no comms system. Anything else that doesn't work in these damn woods?" He had to stop himself from hitting his 'Mech control console and let out a heavy sigh as his hand slowly traveled back to the control stick. Right now, Aravind would have liked a Large Laser and a pair of Flamers on his Griffin instead of the PPC to set the woods on fire. However, he had to take priorities and he chose that eliminating hostiles would be more important right now than whining about how he can't afford to refit his 'Mech, as inviting as that seemed right now. Moving backwards to get out of the range of the SRM missile launcher, Aravind continued moving in serpentine patterns to make aiming with the tank guns a little more difficult and defending against incoming fire with the 'Mechs left shoulder to protect the sensible PPC. As the IR powered distance measurement of his targeting computer to the launcher passed the 400m mark, he twisted his 'Mechs legs to his right and ignited his left Jump Jets, quickly counterbalanced by the right ones to stop the rotary inertia, allowing the 'Mech to hover almost sideways to his targets.
The first shot missed, though not by far. Even when attempting to hold the PPC in position with the left arm, firing in midair was too unstable for accurate shots. However, he also launched his LRMs in dumb-fire mode onto the target location (the computer only calculated a rough ballistic angle and drop-off for the intended range and position), which of course had terrible accuracy, spread and was generally a waste of ammo against 'Mechs. But the launcher that refused to leave its cover, and the tanks that stayed with it, provided such a great target to shoot at from the air and Aravind had packed enough Missiles to siege a small city. He was relieved to not see any system warnings during the reload process. A cluster of explosions hit far off center -as expected-, but some actually impacted rather close to the launcher, which hopefully brought some casualties to the infantry operating it.
As he landed, feathering the impact with his central Jump Jet, Aravind took aim at the tank he first encountered, which had decided move out of its cover to shoot at him. He fired his PPC just as it had recharged and the computer had calculated a proper firing angle. An Autocannon shell impacted just below his cockpit almost simultaneously, shaking his seat violently and taking his vision for a second. As the smoke in front of his frontal camera cleared up, he noticed the tank surprisingly intact, with the exclusion of a missing main gun, now replaced by a glowing spot of molten metal.
"That's that, I suppose." He was surprised by just how easily he was able to completely ignore the fact that he was raiding a planet and smashing up the local militia, but even more at the fact of his complete lack of empathy towards them upon this realization. "Just another monster of war" he said aloud to himself, not bothering to turn off his comms system and gave his 'Mech a few seconds to cool down. The temperature in his cockpit had raised by multiple degrees, which made checking the heat diagnostics redundant to know that the PPC was pushing his 'Mechs' heat sinks quite a bit, especially when fired in rapid succession like that.
Sundale Operational Area, Midale
Capellan March, Federated Suns
15 April, 3035 -- [Planetfall + 00:00:04:30]
Instead of a response, Aravind was greeted by static feedback. The comms system was about as old as the Chassis itself and didn't seem to handle the environment very well. "Great! No targeting feeds, no comms system. Anything else that doesn't work in these damn woods?" He had to stop himself from hitting his 'Mech control console and let out a heavy sigh as his hand slowly traveled back to the control stick. Right now, Aravind would have liked a Large Laser and a pair of Flamers on his Griffin instead of the PPC to set the woods on fire. However, he had to take priorities and he chose that eliminating hostiles would be more important right now than whining about how he can't afford to refit his 'Mech, as inviting as that seemed right now. Moving backwards to get out of the range of the SRM missile launcher, Aravind continued moving in serpentine patterns to make aiming with the tank guns a little more difficult and defending against incoming fire with the 'Mechs left shoulder to protect the sensible PPC. As the IR powered distance measurement of his targeting computer to the launcher passed the 400m mark, he twisted his 'Mechs legs to his right and ignited his left Jump Jets, quickly counterbalanced by the right ones to stop the rotary inertia, allowing the 'Mech to hover almost sideways to his targets.
The first shot missed, though not by far. Even when attempting to hold the PPC in position with the left arm, firing in midair was too unstable for accurate shots. However, he also launched his LRMs in dumb-fire mode onto the target location (the computer only calculated a rough ballistic angle and drop-off for the intended range and position), which of course had terrible accuracy, spread and was generally a waste of ammo against 'Mechs. But the launcher that refused to leave its cover, and the tanks that stayed with it, provided such a great target to shoot at from the air and Aravind had packed enough Missiles to siege a small city. He was relieved to not see any system warnings during the reload process. A cluster of explosions hit far off center -as expected-, but some actually impacted rather close to the launcher, which hopefully brought some casualties to the infantry operating it.
As he landed, feathering the impact with his central Jump Jet, Aravind took aim at the tank he first encountered, which had decided move out of its cover to shoot at him. He fired his PPC just as it had recharged and the computer had calculated a proper firing angle. An Autocannon shell impacted just below his cockpit almost simultaneously, shaking his seat violently and taking his vision for a second. As the smoke in front of his frontal camera cleared up, he noticed the tank surprisingly intact, with the exclusion of a missing main gun, now replaced by a glowing spot of molten metal.
"That's that, I suppose." He was surprised by just how easily he was able to completely ignore the fact that he was raiding a planet and smashing up the local militia, but even more at the fact of his complete lack of empathy towards them upon this realization. "Just another monster of war" he said aloud to himself, not bothering to turn off his comms system and gave his 'Mech a few seconds to cool down. The temperature in his cockpit had raised by multiple degrees, which made checking the heat diagnostics redundant to know that the PPC was pushing his 'Mechs' heat sinks quite a bit, especially when fired in rapid succession like that.
#40
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- The 1 Percent
- 140 posts
Member
- LocationN/A
Posted 05 May 2014 - 03:19 PM
Yokitz Field
Sundale Operational Area, Midale
Capellan March, Federated Suns
15 April, 3035 -- [Planetfall + 00:00:04:45]
Rogers swung his Commando into line with his lance leader and lancemates, still rattled by the missiles that impacted on his 'Mechs rear armor. While they hadn't done much damage to the Commando's armor, he had been concentrating too much on the location of other enemy units to have noticed the Harasser sneak up from behind and launch salvos from it's twin SRM 6 launchers. He keyed in after a slight delay and spoke.
"Anyone on this frequency, I've got confirmation that the enemy possesses light Harasser craft, be on the lookout. The little things probably couldn't dent our armor, but we're talkin about mountains out of molehills here."
He looked over and saw Martini breaking formation and going deeper into the woods, and then reverted his attention to looking out for enemy positions. As he looked over his other shoulder, he could vaguely identify a T-12 Tiger tank in the distance. It seemed to be traveling alone, minus a couple of infantry escorting a single SRM launcher along. The tank hadn't noticed the lance walking by yet, and the troops were too busy with the SRM rack.
"Lance leader, I've got eyes on hostile armor. Lone tank, few infantry. Little SRM cart as well. Easy money. Requesting permission to break off and engage."
Sundale Operational Area, Midale
Capellan March, Federated Suns
15 April, 3035 -- [Planetfall + 00:00:04:45]
Rogers swung his Commando into line with his lance leader and lancemates, still rattled by the missiles that impacted on his 'Mechs rear armor. While they hadn't done much damage to the Commando's armor, he had been concentrating too much on the location of other enemy units to have noticed the Harasser sneak up from behind and launch salvos from it's twin SRM 6 launchers. He keyed in after a slight delay and spoke.
"Anyone on this frequency, I've got confirmation that the enemy possesses light Harasser craft, be on the lookout. The little things probably couldn't dent our armor, but we're talkin about mountains out of molehills here."
He looked over and saw Martini breaking formation and going deeper into the woods, and then reverted his attention to looking out for enemy positions. As he looked over his other shoulder, he could vaguely identify a T-12 Tiger tank in the distance. It seemed to be traveling alone, minus a couple of infantry escorting a single SRM launcher along. The tank hadn't noticed the lance walking by yet, and the troops were too busy with the SRM rack.
"Lance leader, I've got eyes on hostile armor. Lone tank, few infantry. Little SRM cart as well. Easy money. Requesting permission to break off and engage."
Edited by TalRavis, 05 May 2014 - 03:20 PM.
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