250 replies to this topic

[RogueSpear]

For the thousandth time lightning flashed, and for the thousandth time the man known as Spear thought it was a PPC shot. A small burst of andrenaline coursed through him, and burned out immediately as his battered mind registered it as moving vertically, not horizontally.
Not yet.
The dim green glow that had been his constant companion for the last three days went patchworked again as he coughed more clots onto the console.
Less. Better. Worse. Not yet.
He tried to tear yet another chunk of fabric away from the armour plating of his jumpsuit, but lacked the strength. Groggily he looked round the shattered cockpit, picked a crusted rag from the floor and wiped the blood from the screen.
The glow reilluminated the cockpit.
Looking through the armoured viewport, he saw it was raining again. He debated opening it, letting the rain caress his face, quench his thirst, wash the pain away. Again he kept it shut, to avoid ruining the few working consoles.
A change in the irregular stomp/scrape of his mech's mangled left leg snapped him back to vague alertness, and he realized he'd kicked aside a car. After a moments indecision, he turned on the working headlights, illuminating the battered buildings of a city torn by war, Enviroment noted, he turned the lights off and half slouched turned on the Behemoth's light amplification console. The vector based graphics let him see roughly where objects were, and he began threading his way through the wreckage of the street. Leaning slant on the console, more blood trickled from his slack lips.
Vaguely he wished for more of the water that had run out 12 hours previous. He shook the thought off. That way led darker thoughts. Memories. The running. The hiding. The disastrous drop. His Dragoons. His brother. Sara.Oh Gods, Sara...NO. Not yet. Not yet.
The thoughts were creeping up more often. Dimly he was aware he was suffering from exhaustion, the stims had run out before the water had. But only dimly was he aware that he was suffering from it. What was left of his mind was too far gone to think such things. Not yet. It was dealing with it. Hours before - How many? Irrelevant - he had wasted precious ammunition for his AC-10s firing at a shadow he'd thought was a stalking Panther, illuminated himself firing PPCs at clouds he thought were choppers. Now he navigated only by the console, not trusting his addled mind.
Not yet.
Stumbling through the city, he shook himself. Bringing up the mech's logs, his last radar contact had been two hours before, when he had drained the last of his ammunition punching past a roadblock of two Urbanmechs and some ground armour, plus infantry. The infantry had inadvertently shredded themselves, unknowing of the underslung AMS on the Behemoth's belly, pulverizing in puffs of mist. It had taken him long minutes to realize they weren't hiding, while he stomp/scraped around the area.
Two hours. No contact. Not yet.
Ahead the high walls of a stadium showed on the console.
High walls. Safe. Hidden.
He debated turning on the lights again, looking for watchers, but decided he could do nothing about them anyway. Weapons fire would draw more attention. Getting closer, he saw no entrance large enough for his mech on the console. Wearily, slowily, weighing his options, he hunched over the controls, the taut coiling making him spasm slightly from the shrapnel in his belly, but allowing him to focus. Carefully, he ignited Relentless' jumpjets.
Careful. Slow. Rest. Not yet. Not yet. Not yet.
Focusing on the display, Spear guided the big mech through the air, squeezing just enough power into the jets to clear the wall, trying not to be seen by hostile eyes.
But the sleep had finally taken it's toll. Watching the console, focused and weary, Spear forgot to take into account the mangled left leg, slagged by laser fire it hung low and loose. With a sharp crunch, the fused foot tore a section out of the wall, even as the mech keeled over. Crashing into scaffolding it crashed through the extended roof, landing on the left arm, snapping the actuator and sending the mech plowing through the muddy field. In the cockpit, Spear cried out as he was jerked forward by the fall, the jagged metal in his stomach tearing violently, he spat blood hard enough to splatter across the cockpit's armoured plexiglass,
Finally the mech slowed to a halt.
Silence filled the cockpit. Spear curled over the console, his mind too sleep deprived, his body having lost too much blood, too consumed by the agony in his belly for action. Suddenly rain beat down on his face. In confusion he looked up to see the cockpit open, a hooded figure looking in at him at an angle.
"Held you three days. I did." He croaked "Didn't get me. Three days. You tried. Saw you at the drop. Took them. Took my m...my...Sa..."
With a last splatter of blood, Spear lost consciousness.

((Hopefully it's still okay to join, I believe Brendan is acting as GM, so I've tried to put him in with your Shadowhawk pilot. If it's not okay to join, feel free to declare Spear dead and his mech beyond salvage and move on. Got a lot of ideas and backstory in my head for this guy though, so hopefully you won't!

Name: Spear
Gender: Male
Description: Well built man, muscled, but not a body builder. Normally cleanshaven, but a coating of stubble covers his face. His hair is short and black. Fierce blue eyes show a lot of intensity. He wears a shredded armoured jumpsuit, it's fabric covering has been torn up to bandage the wound in his belly, and wipe blood from his screens. If undressed, it is found he bears two tattoos, one on his right shoulder of a savage spear embossed on a rivetted iron plate, and another of dark green clenched fist encircled by an eight spoked white cog. Both tattoos have a seperate long serial number beneath them
Affiliation: Taking Spear's dogtags reveal him to be the leader of the Morricone's Dragoons mercenary corp. Currently they are unsigned on the MRBC, but have long served with House Steiner.))

[CaveMan]

revanus, on 20 December 2011 - 09:13 PM, said:

How long ago did your father die? What about the rest of your family?

"That raid was at the back end of 3035. After my dad died, my mother crawled inside a bottle. It's part of why I left. Last I heard of my brother Stefan, he was planning to join the Lancers when he came of age. He'd be seventeen now."

Quote

If you wanted revenge, why would you choose Bonette? It's not a strategic asset. Why not take a raiding contract, like your father?

"I didn't exactly 'choose' Bonette. The Lancers had just renewed a major contract with House Marik and we got redeployed to the Capellan front. I wanted Kurita blood, so I resigned my commission with the Lancers and signed up with the first merc outfit that was heading this way.
"We were supposed to get a raiding contract hitting worlds near Skye. That didn't pan out so we ended up with a three year contract in the Draconis March because it was what my lance commander would accept. He passed up several good paying raider contracts because he didn't like the provisions on salvage rights.
"Anyway, we got handed back and forth from planet to planet until we finally got stuck on Bonette guarding a minor spaceport. By that point our contract was nearly up, morale was in the tank, and frankly we were ready to lynch our commander if he dropped the ball on another contract. We'd seen exactly one mission in three years, and that was playing OpFor in a training run on New Ivaarsen. The pay was s***, and our commander gambled away most of our earnings. He kept promising us he had friends in AFFS command and we were going to get sent on a real mission any day. Obviously these 'friends' weren't very reliable.
"I had basically decided to pack it in. My bloodlust had died out, and it was clear that small-timing it was no way to get ahead as a merc. My Stinger had developed a bad leg actuator anyway. I was going to go back to Nestor and see if the Lancers would take me back."

"Then what?" asked Cohen.

"Then war broke out. Our spaceport got strafed and bombed by an Avenger-class assault ship. My lancemates were playing cards in the hangar with some techs when the hit came. They got flattened along with all but one of our 'Mechs. I was in the control tower at the time with a....uh, lady friend. She went to look after her family and I jump-started the one surviving 'Mech and hid out in the city before the Dracs could secure the spaceport. I've been living out of a duffel bag and what little cash I could scrounge ever since."

[revanus]

Interrogation #1:

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but the people of Rasalhague wanted freedom from Combine rule, and the Coordinator agreed to give it to them. So, what was it that your father was fighting for, exactly?"

Alex pushed further.

"Do you see it as honorable to fight to keep a people under a government they don't want?"

Another thing caught Alex's attention.

Quote

I only found what I was looking for prior to my deployment here.

"This is the wrong time for secrets and half-truths. What exactly did you find out? What happened to your mother and father?"

Quote

Unarmed citizens gunned down in the streets. Homes and livelihoods put to the torch. I watched all of this unfold before my eyes. And I did nothing. And for what? The will of the Coordinator?

"You've spent a long time in the DCMS. Aren't civilian casualties a part of war? Isn't collateral damage expected? Bonette couldn't have been the first time you saw a person die. And I didn't realize the DCMS drew a distinction between non-combatants and combatants. After all, isn't it DCMS policy not to accept surrender or take prisoners?"

Alex leaned closer.

"You talk of these atrocities happening outside of yourself. How many lives have you taken? And how many times were you faced with a surrendering unit whose surrender was denied?"

Edited by revanus, 20 December 2011 - 10:15 PM.

[revanus]

Interrogation #2

Let's throw in a non-sequitor.

"Where were you born? How did you spend your childhood?

And now the curve.

"Isn't the control tower exactly the place you'd want to be to spot an incoming Avenger?"

Here comes the shitstorm.

"But you were lying down on the job, right? If the control tower had been operating correctly, they'd have spotted the Avenger."

Alex narrowed his gaze.

"Aren't you, in a very real way, responsible for the destruction of your lance?"

[Orcinus]

Interrogation #1:

“My parents were killed by agents of the Internal Security Force. Why them in particular, I do not know, as I've only found documents concerning the operation's execution.
“I understand the concept of civilian casualties and collateral damage. I admit that I have the blood of numerous Davion mech pilots on my hands. It may be true that the DCMS draws no distinctions and that I am expected to do the same.
“My father had always told me that a warrior’s duty was to serve, no questions asked. He chose to serve his unit at the expense of serving the Coordinator. To him, the fact that his actions were in conflict with the will of Rasalhague’s people was irrelevant.
“But I am not my father. I do not agree with the decisions he made nor his philosophy. I do not share his conception of honor.”

And thus I am here, making excuses.
These past five years have gone by so quickly.
Was I always this brash?
Perhaps I'm just exhausted...
Or perhaps my sense of honor is as flawed as Father’s.

“Nevertheless, I was a soldier. Over the past years, I have made several decisions that I cannot take back. Indeed, my hands are not clean of the Combine’s actions nor its policies.”

Even so…

“Even so, I intend to take advantage of this opportunity.”

Edited by Orcinus, 20 December 2011 - 11:12 PM.

[CaveMan]

revanus, on 20 December 2011 - 10:34 PM, said:

Where were you born? How did you spend your childhood?

"Nestor. Well, technically in orbit of Nestor. My mom is a tech with the Lancers; she insisted on continuing to work on 'Mechs in whatever way she could, right up to the seventh month of her pregnancy. The unit commander finally sent her home on a forced medical leave, but it was a long trip and I got there ahead of schedule. She went into labor before the DropShip had even arrived.
"Growing up with the Lancers, I went where the unit went. Grew up around 'Mechs. Hell, 'Mech' was my first word.
"Jesus, you have all this info. It's probably right there in your notes. How many more boxes have I gotta check before you realize there's not some shmuck* running around pretending to be this particular dispossessed 'Mech jockey?"

Jason was getting irritated.

Quote

Isn't the control tower exactly the place you'd want to be to spot an incoming Avenger?

And there it was. Cohen had decided it was time for hardball.

Quote

But you were lying down on the job, right?

Actually I think I had her up against the wall...

Quote

If the control tower had been operating correctly, they'd have spotted the Avenger. Aren't you, in a very real way, responsible for the destruction of your lance?

Well, there was no getting around that one. Neither he nor Liza had been at their posts.

Jason chewed on it for a moment.
He knew Cohen was trying to provoke him. But he didn't actually know whether he cared that his lance had been wiped out. The Stinger had been his uncle's, and Jason certainly wasn't proud to have lost it. And while he regretted the loss of life, in a sick way he was glad to see the other mercs go.
First Lieutenant Cairns was an incompetent pr*ck, and the other two had more balls than brains. Moseby was almost certainly a headcase. Everybody who graduated that "MMM" school on Outreach seemed to be.
Still, showing no reaction at all would make him seem a sociopath.

"Like I told you: unit morale was in the tank. We figured we were far enough from the main bases that the Dracs wouldn't make us a primary target if they did come. Damn it, there weren't even any aircraft at the station. The Feds moved them to a more important base months before. I didn't know the Dracs would be acting on old intel. The base was cold and dark and our 'Mechs weren't even loaded; if I stole off for a quick f***, what difference did it make?"

((*really? 'schm*ck'? this word gets filtered?!))

Edited by CaveMan, 20 December 2011 - 11:22 PM.

[revanus]

Alex gave Jason a hard look.

"It seems to me the difference was quite significant. To quantify it, the difference was three and a half mechs. Over 75% loss of battle effectiveness. In short, the difference was the death or survival of an entire Merc company."

And now things get interesting.

"Of course, that's assuming things happened as you say. That a Centauri Lancer had so little professionalism as to not care that a company of men he had served with for three years died out as a result of his dereliction of duty."

Alex paused.

"How much did you make while working for this Merc outfit?"

Quote

"I had basically decided to pack it in. My bloodlust had died out, and it was clear that small-timing it was no way to get ahead as a merc."

"Now, it seems to me that a mercenary who was starved for cash might not be against taking a tidy sum to conveniently leave his post at an opportune time. In fact, if his "bloodlust" had subsided, perhaps he'd have even been willing to take a new employer, and an active role in undermining his former lancemates."

"Isn't it true that you sabotaged your Merc company?"

[CaveMan]

revanus, on 20 December 2011 - 11:47 PM, said:

"Isn't it true that you sabotaged your Merc company?"

Now Cohen had gotten his dander up.

"I wish I had had the sense to sell out that two-bit outfit," he spat. "Led by a greedy fool and staffed by men who belonged in prison. If there was a Dragoon Rating of 'Z', that would have been us."

Now that it was out there, he regretted saying it.

"But, no. You really think if the Combine had paid me off, that I'd still be hanging around here? If I was a traitor, I'd like to think I'd have the good sense to spend my thirty pieces of silver far, far away. The DC sure as hell don't want you around if they know you can be turned."

[VEDRFOLNIR]

Eiko followed the others into the darkened room. She heard the door slam behind her, and dimly realized that they were now trapped. Mother, I'm so sorry... she thought as the acrid smell hit her. Eiko wasn't a soldier, but she had lived under DCMS occupation long enough to recognize some sort of knock-out gas... or worse. Her eyes closed of their own accord, and she slumped onto the floor.

When the world returned, Eiko realized a number of things - one, her hands were bound and two, she had been stripped of all her clothing, except her skivvies. Eiko's modesty drove a blush to her face, and at the back of her mind, there was something about losing her clothes that was deeply worrisome...

CaveMan, on 20 December 2011 - 01:41 PM, said:

"Easy," he whispered, as she gave a startled jump. "We got hit with knockout gas."

"What are--" she slurred, groggily.

"It's alright. These guys are FedSuns militia. We're on the same side. They're going to question us for a minute, realize this was all just a big misunderstanding, and we'll be free to go," he lied.

Eiko realized that Jason had made his way over to her, even though he was bound as she was. She drew up her legs so her knees were just under her chin. The soldiers looked tough - in her current state, Eiko didn't feel particularly comforted by their presence, particularly because of her near-nakedness. She had been forced to deal with enough leers and jeers from men in uniform this past year...

'Don't be alarmed,' she heard 'Cohen' say. 'We just want to talk. Any personal items will be returned to you shortly. Your clothes were destroyed, but we will provide you with new ones.' Eiko gasped when she realized that the 600 C-bills were now gone. Would they return them? Oh God... 'This process doesn't need to be...difficult. When we talk, we expect nothing less than complete honesty. If you follow this rule, everything will go smoothly.'

Eiko's eyebrows contracted at this speech. She knew damn well that on Bonnette, 'truth' was whatever those with the guns believed to be truth. She threw a near-panicked look at Jason, only to realize they were escorting him from the room! Once again she was paralyzed by panic - her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth, and her mind was a dizzying whirl of panicked thought.

Then they came for her. However, the soldiers brought a large towel for Eiko to wrap up in, covering her near-nakedness. 'Please come with us,' one soldier said gently enough. Eiko got to her feet on wobbly legs. When she stumbled, one of the soldiers caught her easily. 'Easy ma'am, everything is going to be all right,' he said. She still didn't trust herself to say anything, but her panic was easing.

They led her down a short corridor to a room, and indicated she sit in one of the two chairs, separated by a simple table. After a moment, one of the soldiers left and quickly returned with a tray bearing a bowl of soup and a glass of water. Eiko stared at the food, her stomach twisting into an angry knot of hunger. Yes, the food might be drugged - but honestly, what did she have to hide anyway? If the food was poisoned, then it was either that, or be starved to death - or just shot - if these folk weren't who they said they were.

She took the offered spoon, and dug into the soup. It was chicken noodle - the canned variety - but it was good enough. The water was delicious and sated her growing thirst.

Then the soldiers left - all but one, who stood at the door. The door shut behind a woman dressed in a unisex jumper, with mousy brown hair who walked into the room. She was carrying a folder of papers. She sat down opposite Eiko, who observed that this interrogator didn't seem frightening. 'If you are still hungry,' she said, 'I can have more soup brought up.' Eiko shook her head. 'Would you like some more water?' To this, Eiko nodded slowly. The interrogator then produced a flask, and poured the contents into her glass. 'It...' Eiko said hesitantly... 'It isn't... drugged... is it?' The woman looked at her and smiled slightly. 'No, it is not. See?' She took a swig herself after topping off Eiko's glass.

The woman opened the folder, and Eiko saw a picture of herself - it was the picture they had taken on the day she had been hired at Brilliant Genesis, two years ago. She remembered that day - how excited she had been. 'I'll start,' the woman said, 'by going over your personnel file.' She pulled out a round ink blotter, and a small square piece of glass. 'Please press your left thumb to this blotter, then press on this piece of glass.' Eiko swallowed, and then nodded, doing as she was told. The woman took the piece of glass with her thumbprint, and slid it over the thumbprint on her dossier. 'This isn't 100% accurate - normally we'd have computer image-mapping to compare the two, but since we don't have that available...' The woman stared at the two images, one superimposed over the other, and then nodded.

'Your name is Eiko Durand-Nakamura, daughter and only child of Andre and Miyuki...' The questioning was straightforward, and to each question Eiko answered truthfully - either in the affirmative or the negative. Eiko recognized several 'leading questions', such as how her father was killed, or where they had emmegrated from. To each one, Eiko quickly answered as honestly as she could.

'I have one more question,' the interrogator said, 'We found the amount of 590 C-bills in your clothes. Where did you get these funds?' Eiko looked at her somewhat plaintively. 'Please, you haven't burned that money have you?' The interrogator said, 'No we haven't. None of your personal items - including the tools in your coverall, have been interfered with in any way. Please answer the question.' Eiko nodded. 'I have been doing mechanical repair work since the Occupation as a way to make money to support myself and my mother. That money was from a job I had just completed doing repair work on a groundcar's transmission.' The interrogator said, 'Your mother, who has spinal menengitis?' Eiko blinked. 'No, she has rheumatoid arthritis. It is very painful for her, and the medication she needs to manage it is hard to come-by.' The interrogator nodded, and smiled.

She stood to her feet. 'Thank you for your coopertion, Ms. Durand-Nakamura. I realize that this must be frightening for you, but please realize that we mean you no harm... in fact, we might be in a position to help each other.' She stepped toward the door, and motioned to the soldier. 'Please remove her bindings, and if she needs anything, please get it for her.' Eiko looked at them both. 'If I might have some clothes...?' The woman nodded and looked at the trooper. She then left the room. The door closed.

[Vincent Vascaul]

(( Holy crap, I have been busy wrapping up a big business deal, this thing has exploded. I will catch up and make some major posts tonight.))

[Sloth901]

((Is it too late to join?))

((Name: Will Andor
Gender: Male
Age: 29
Height: 5ft 11
Description/ Background
Will was a business man with short smart cut back hair and clean shaven face. That was before all this started. He now had thick stubble on his chin and his once groomed hairstyle had become greasy and matted. He has a layer of civilian clothing on concealing the body armour and pistol bellow. Unbeknownst to his father he knew how to use it. His uncle was the proud owner of the Vulkaneer mercenary unit. They were little known and were away looking for work often. Wills father condoned his brother for going on such escapades and forbid Will from seeing him. That didn’t stop him. Everyday his Uncle was back planet side he would sneak past his father to see him. He was taught how to use a weapon how to disarm an opponent and most of all how to pilot a mech.))

Will stared down the street his family home once stood. He had been closing a small shipping deal outside of the city when the invasion hit. Ever since then he’d had to fight his way back to his family home. He wasn’t sure the combine would appreciate him being there after he’d supplied them with fake ammunition on a small arms contract and given the real ammo to his uncle. This was 5 years ago but he didn’t want to risk his name coming up on combine data bases. His home along with his family had been burnt to the ground. He approached the ashen rubble almost in a trance struggling to take in what had happened. A flash of white from the centre of the city followed by what sounded large explosion of ammo snapped him out of it. He immediately knew what to do.
His uncle had a storage space in the centre of the city in which contained salvage from the Vulkaneers contracts including a Rifleman his uncle had bragged about taking down when Will was 16. As far as he knew the mech was being restored with salvaged parts on each return of the Vulkaneers, but they had been away on a 5 year contract in which time the mech had been gathering dust. Will had no idea if it was operational.
Will turned to the city and began walking there was only one way to find out.

Edited by Sloth901, 31 January 2012 - 08:14 AM.

[Damion Wolf]

OOC: ON

Is this thread still accepting new players? I tried to contact the thread creator to ask but he hasn't replied.

[Kevin Kirov]

Damion Wolf, on 23 December 2011 - 11:36 AM, said:

OOC: ON

Is this thread still accepting new players? I tried to contact the thread creator to ask but he hasn't replied.

Other people seem to think so, I don't really mind but...idk lol

[Vincent Vascaul]

Vincent tensed at the sound of the voice, then took a breath and replied. "Just a stranger, trying to find his way." As soon as he finished speaking he heard someone let out a sigh of relief. "Sh*t Vinny you gave us a scare." The voice was female and rang of someone in charge. " So you saw me comin'?" Vincent replied in a somewhat shaky voice. A tall slender woman in black and grey emerged from the shadows. "Yeah, we picked you up on the thermals about 5 minutes ago and were worried you were a DC scout that was onto our position. Anyway get inside before you draw any unwanted attention." He followed the woman around to the back of the vehicle, she wrapped on the back on the vehicle 2 times, there was the sound of a heavy magnetic lock releasing and a hatch swung open. They clambered inside and closed the hatch behind them the lock thunking into place. The interior of the vehicle was a sharp contrast to it's exterior, one side was covered in screens showing feeds from thermal sensors, carefully hidden cameras and a myriad of seismic sensors carefully placed throughout certain areas of the remaining city, the other side was a communications array. Each was manned by two men dressed like the woman. She showed him to the front of the vehicle closing a door behind them.



((Sorry I haven't posted more guys, battlin some brutal food poisoning.))

[revanus]

Interrogation #1:

Alex's gaze hardened.

This kid's story isn't adding up. He talks about deserting the Combine because they killed his father and mother, but then it turns out his father had gone AWOL. The next minute, he's talking about how he didn't approve of his father's decisions or outlook. In sum, the kid deserted because the Combine killed his father, who was involved in mutiny and stood for principles that Furukawa doesn't believe in.

This is the ammunition for betraying the only way of life you've ever known? Something's not right. Either he didn't think through his decision to jump ship, or he's ISF with a bad cover story.

"Let's go back a bit. You said this, right?"

Alex had his companion hand him the ongoing transcript.

Quote

“It is true that the warrior has a duty to his lord. But the same holds in reverse. If one part of the contract is not kept, then it is all null and void.”

"When your father decided to mutiny, wasn't he the one who first broke the contract?A vassal's promise is his duty to serve, a bond that your father didn't keep, right? And it's not like the order was unconscionable--he was asked to obey the Coordinator's decision to emancipate the FRR. He was asked to accept his Lord's decision--a decision that was above his pay grade and did not particularly impact him, except in an abstract political sense--right? Yet your father couldn't accept that granting autonomy and freedom to a people who used to be under the Combine could be in the Dragon's best interest, and so he committed treason."

Drumroll, please...

"Now, isn't capital punishment an accepted sentence for traitors and deserters? Why was the Combine so unjustified in the decisions they took regarding your parents that you decided to rebel?"

Alex paused.

"These may be hard questions, but these are hard times. We need nothing short of complete candor."

Alex glanced down at the pad.

"Additionally, you said this a few moments ago:

Quote

My father had always told me that a warrior’s duty was to serve, no questions asked. He chose to serve his unit at the expense of serving the Coordinator. To him, the fact that his actions were in conflict with the will of Rasalhague’s people was irrelevant.
“But I am not my father. I do not agree with the decisions he made nor his philosophy. I do not share his conception of honor."

"You said you don't believe in your father's philosophy of blind service. So what do you think a warrior's duty is? What does it mean for a warrior to be honorable?"

Alex paused for a second. Something this Drac had said earlier stuck in his mind.

"And what opportunity do you intend to take advantage of?"

Edited by revanus, 26 December 2011 - 02:07 PM.

[revanus]

Interrogation #2:

Quote

I wish I had had the sense to sell out that two-bit outfit," he spat. "Led by a greedy fool and staffed by men who belonged in prison. If there was a Dragoon Rating of 'Z', that would have been us."

Alex smiled despite himself.

Now that was an honest answer.

"So, what you're telling me is that you can't be trusted. Should I take your word for it?"

The grin was gone.

"After all, no one said you were an intelligent turncoat. For all I know, you sold out your crew, but forgot to arrange for travel off-planet. Or the Dracs didn't hold up their end of the bargain. The fact that you're still here, seemingly on the run, doesn't mean you didn't turn on your crew."

Alex pursed his lips.

"So the only loyalty you have is loyalty to coin. You were willing to jeopardize the lives of people you had served with for years without a thought of remorse, and your only regret is that you weren't paid. Do I have that down right?"

Alex shook his head.

"I thought Centauri Lancers were known for their honesty and their dedication to contract and employers--that they don't accept buyouts or turn on their clients. I guess that part didn't rub off, huh?"

If he can't be trusted, this merc might find himself with a bullet instead of a job.

Edited by revanus, 26 December 2011 - 02:44 PM.

[CaveMan]

revanus, on 26 December 2011 - 02:40 PM, said:

"I thought Centauri Lancers were known for their honesty and their dedication to contract and employers--that they don't accept buyouts or turn on their clients. I guess that part didn't rub off, huh?"

"We don't turn on anyone who gives us a fair shake," Jason corrected him. "Liao found that out in the Third Succession War when they decided we'd work for free."

"Okay, you've made it abundantly clear at this point that nothing I say is going to earn your trust. Can't say as I have any particular interest in it to begin with. But since we're playing hardball, I may as well make my offer now."

He cleared his throat.

"I have a medium-weight BattleMech hidden somewhere in the city. The Dracs don't know where it is, and even if they did find it, they won't be able to get ahold of it very easily. Neither will you, without my help.
"If you'll honor the safe extraction provision in my lance's contract, the 'Mech and I are yours. For the next three months or until FedCom troops arrive to liberate the planet, whichever comes first. Other than rations and repairs for my 'Mech, I'll work pro bono. When the three months are up, you can decide if you like my performance and renegotiate at standard rates. Otherwise, put me on the first ship back to Outreach.
"I'm making this offer, first because I'd prefer to avoid being shot and thrown in a ditch, but second because I know you can't afford to turn it down. There was at most a battalion of Feddie 'Mechs on this continent when the Kuritans hit, not counting my lance and two other independent lances. Based on the number of 'Mechs I've seen destroyed or hastily painted red in the last few days, I'd estimate you're down to no more than about ten, spread between all three major population centers."

"Actually, make that nine," he bluffed, figuring the odds were even, "since that Shadow Hawk had its ammo cook off."

"Either way, the DC have you vastly outnumbered. There's more than a company of 'Mechs in the capital alone, plus armor and support units, power armor, and infantry. You need my 'Mech much more than you need a spotless record.
"And one last thing: the 'Mech is boobytrapped. Anyone but me who attempts to pilot it will die."

[Sloth901]

After 3 long days of evading patrols through sewers and alleys Will finally made it to the Vulkaneers storage hanger. He didn’t have long. The next street was awash with smoke and fire and the heavy footsteps of a mech could be heard through the back blanket. He entered the room and was immediately dismayed as the main hanger had been looted. Large lasers, Auto cannons and other weapons to heavy to carry had been knocked over and left to rust. Will could hear the footsteps getting closer and could now see the glare of fire outside the door. He knew he had to go. Not only because of the incoming mech but the building he was in was a bomb. Soon after it is lit ammunition for auto cannons and LRM’s will detonate taking anything nearby with them.

Outside he heard some kind of handgun go off followed by a scream. That meant the approaching mech was not alone. He looked outside to see it a Firestarter bearing Drac markings not 2 doors down. Will went to run but before he took two steps out of the doorway he started taking fire. A Combine patrol was at the foot of the mech and Will had attracted their attention. He dived for cover back through the door drawing his pistol. He had no time to waste he had to get out of they’re fast. He remembered a fire escape leading into a back alley through his uncles office he barged through the offices large wooden door to see the exit. As he ran through towards it he caught site of a memory unit sitting on the desk by the escape, maybe it could shed some light on the situation he thought as he scooped it up in his left hand, continuing pace to the doorway. He couldn’t know if the alley was safe but it was now his only choice.

A swift kick and the door flung open stopping midway as it met with a combine trooper that had moved to sweep the alley. Another tried to raise his gun but it was too late, Will had already fired off 3 rounds of his pistol one hitting the target in the chest. Two more troopers stood at the end of the alley, alerted by the gun shots they turned and opened fire will dived behind the twisted wreckage of a nearby automobile across the alley from the door just in time to see the storage building engulfed in flames. He heard crackling and whizzing as small arms ammo dropped or missed by looters cooked off one round narrowly missing the two troopers was enough to make them take cover. He had to get out of there now! Will saw a manhole cover around 10 metres away. He ceased the momentary confusion as his chance to escape. He fired another 3 rounds as he moved suppressing the dracs further. The manhole cover was partially open already he pulled it open the rest of the way and dropped before the troops could retaliate. The next few seconds were a blur.

As he hit the floor his surroundings shook violently as the warehouse above exploded sending a wave of heat across the top of the manhole. Will didn’t know if it was the fall or the shaking that put him on his back but something did. As he stood he realised he had lost his pistol. Probably fell in the sewage he thought to himself as he brushed off his clothes. He climbed back up to the surface to see a rather impressive pile of rubble left by the blast including the remains of one draconis fire starter.

Will new the combine would be there to inspect the blast any moment so he dropped back into the sewers and ran for what seemed to be miles in the labyrinth of tunnels under the city. After half an hour he needed a break. All the doors around him where the same. Heavy black riveted doors with view slits. He slumped in the tunnel to inspect the memory device. It was rectangular in shape and had the words “Rifleman Restoration Project Schedule” written on it. He knew is uncle’s passwords to most things so he was sure he could crack this. All he needed was a functioning computer. He had to start somewhere. He stood up and knocked on the first door along from him. He was about to walk away when the door unbolted with a loud crack, as he entered he heard the sound of something small hitting the floor followed by the hissing of gas. Just before he lost consciousness he saw two men in gas masks bearing federated suns marks approach him eyes locked on his memory unit.

((Tried to link story with others (pretext of being let in as they have interest in my memory unit I was inspecting outside their door. After all I am running around the sewers with body armour on J) any problems and ill remove my posts))

[Orcinus]

Interrogation #1:

Furukawa maintained his stoic expression, disguising his discontent with Cohen’s questioning.
I was never known to be a mind reader. How should I know what Father was thinking back then…?
Still, a question deserves an answer…
“My father never saw himself as breaking any such contract. You see, when a warrior in the DCMS refers to his ‘lord,’ he is not necessarily referring to the Coordinator. In fact, many did not consider the Coordinator as their lord, directly at least. Hence entire units defied the Coordinator, leading to the Ronin War.”

revanus, on 26 December 2011 - 01:58 PM, said:

"Why was the Combine so unjustified in the decisions they took regarding your parents that you decided to rebel?"

It appears that my answers have given birth to a few misconceptions. Best to set things straight.
“My decision to rebel was not made upon learning of the fate of my parents. Rather, it made me more aware and observant of what I was a part of. You can say it opened my eyes, seeing the indiscrimination between combatant and civilian hit so close to home. It merely set off the chain of events that led me to where I am now.”

revanus, on 26 December 2011 - 01:58 PM, said:

So what do you think a warrior's duty is? What does it mean for a warrior to be honorable?"

Hmm…
“A warrior’s duty is to fight for what he believes in. Honor is merely one way a warrior can give his beliefs form. If one believes that it is ‘honorable’ to serve his lord, that is the manifestation of the beliefs he fights for.”

revanus, on 26 December 2011 - 01:58 PM, said:

"And what opportunity do you intend to take advantage of?"

I might regret this, but…
Furukawa allowed the corner of his mouth to turn in a slight grin.
“Being here, talking to you.”

The grin slipped away as quickly as it came.
…rather than out there, with a bullet in my skull.

[Kevin Kirov]

Kevin Kirov, on 20 December 2011 - 01:39 PM, said:

Kavin heard the ping of the grenade and the slight hiss, Well today is a good a day to die as any I suppose, he thought.

Upon waking up in what was definitely a hospital bed, Kavin tried to sit up and look around, only to find himself restrained, cuffed to the bed. He did however notice that his chest did not hurt nearly as much as it had before.

...

"There is someone who wants to talk to you before we answer any questions." The woman said coolly.

"Wait before you go, there was something I had with me, a bottle perhaps." Kavin said quickly.

"Check the bedside." The woman said quickly as she left and a familiar face along with two men who seemed to be guards entered the room.
"Jason?" Blurted out Kavin

"Hello Kavin" said Jason coolly. "You seem to be feeling better, but before you go, we have a few questions for you."
Kavin nodded mutely.
"There is quite a bit we would like to know about you Mr. Kirov. First let us start with the basics, name, age and place of birth, and any military experience you have."

A bit woozy still from the lingering pain and the slight alcohol withdrawals Kavin began to speak. " Kavinaugh James Kirov, alias' James Franklin. Born on New Caledonia, pre-FRR, 3017 so that makes me just now 23. At 18 I joined the KungsArme Training Academy on New Oslo. There I learned to kill with whatever I had, specifically I had battle armor training as well as learning to pilot a battlemech, one of many in my family, an Orion, Cadeyrn, meaning Battle King. Showing up drunk I suppose is frowned upon so I learned well, but my superiors were not that happy I was there. Upon graduation at 21 I had no commision and decided to travel to the old homeland, Donegal. There I saw the memorial to my ancestors and was overcome with hate and resentment at the Haus Steiner and the Marsden family. I then returned to the FRR, once again my personal history destroyed what chance my name gave me to gain a commission. I tried to gain employment as a mercenary, but they are hard to contact in the FRR so I came to the the Draconis Combine looking to ply my trade."

"Interesting story" Jason said, nodding to a guard, most likely to verify the information. "You seem to be implying your family is somewhat important in both the Lyran Commonwealth and in the FRR, tell me more about this."

"A drink first if you don't mind?" Kavin pleaded meekly.

A smile played at the corners of Jason's mouth, but he kept a straight face. "Sure..." He got up and took a few steps to the side table where the bottle sat. Jason lifted the bottle and poured Kavin a 'healthy' amount in a small glass and lifted it to Kavins lips."Cheers" said Jason, raising a hand in mock salute.
"Thanks" Kavin mumbled as he drank.

"Now about your family?" Jason asked again.

((Tired))