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DECEMBER 3051
10 KM ABOVE KAGOSHIMA
0615 Hours
A constellation of light cut through the abyss. Pinpricks of soft illumination disturbed only by the shadow of movement; their luminescence occluded. A low rumble, more felt than heard, trembled from deep below. Gradually, the chamber’s darkness retreated as displays flickered to life.
Reactor: Online
For a moment, static dominated his senses as the neurohelmet synchronized. Checklists appeared and rapidly resolved themselves upon his displays. With a pop, the world clarified once again. Information concerning self-status and situational awareness ghosted into existence before his eyes, virtually projected over reality.
Sensors: Online
Outside the cabin, the black was replaced with a crimson glow punctuated by the muffled shriek of warning sirens. Personnel were scampering along gantries like ants attending to their hive. A shudder, and he began to rotate; his view of the colony being replaced with that of a massive metal door. A groan, audible even through 50-tons of man-made god, issued as it yawned open to reveal a sea of stars.
Again he was conveyed. This time, towards and through the open portal before him. With an absentminded flick of a switch, the world below him was displayed on a monitor as he dangled above the surface. He wondered, for a moment, how this newest marvel of his clan’s scientist caste would perform in this test. It was so fresh off the factory lines, he personally had to peel the plastic off the consoles a month earlier. No doubt there would be unexpected complications.
Weapons: Online
No matter. There would be plenty of time to consider break-in errors in the next three minutes during his meteoric descent. But first, he quickly reviewed the scenario in his head: two smaller reactor signatures were detected in the city below – likely sphereoid patrols. In order to secure the local airport, he was being dispatched to eliminate them. Quick and quiet.
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YANGNAM CITY
UPTOWN HABITATION DISTRICT
0620
Jumpjets blazing to cushion the descent, the Huntsman landed upon a cloud of flame. Glancing around, he took stock of the surroundings. It appeared to be a clearing between untended apartment complexes. Debris strewn streets hinted that a rapid evacuation was undertaken sometime prior. All the better to reduce collateral waste of life, he figured.
Fixing the LazCom on the Broadsword high above, he reported. “Dagda Alpha to Command: hoverdrop complete. No damage. Beginning operation.” Minimal communications was to be had. No open frequency was to be used. Not even a batchall was to be issued.
The Nova Cat is the silent hunter. The Nova Cat is the patient hunter. This Nova Cat… requires perspective. Eyeing an especially sturdy looking building, he leapt into the air, arcing towards its roof. He wanted to assess his options and, possibly, locate his objectives early.
From the vantage, he beheld a smoldering cityscape. Plumes of smoke rose to the heavens, obscuring vision in an already dark night. The sky was thick with haze, choking out the starlight. Objects would be hard to discern, but movement?
Sure enough, he spotted it. There. On the roof of a formidable looking structure he glimpsed the silhouette of a battlemech. Sliding his reticule over the object, the rangefinder read 930 meters. Within acceptable range. He released a bolt of azure flame from his extended-range particle projection cannon, only for it to pass harmlessly mere meters from the target, incinerating a portion of the citadel-like structure.
Quickly adjusting his aim, he let loose once more. Again, however, it impacted only air as the target dropped to cover behind the building. “Stravag machine. This is no time for teething problems!” Oh well, he sighed, if they did not know I was here before, they certainly do now.
Following the black shape’s path, he flicked out another bolt. This time, though, it struck true. Even at this distance, the halo of blue particles clearly outlined the form of a Wolverine barreling towards him. As it charged, another salvo struck its form, its armor leaving behind a shower of sparks and molten metal. As if learning its lesson, the Wolverine ducked under a bridge, attempting to close the distance under cover.
That identifies one threat. What and where is the other, however? Surely not hiding, quiaff?
He rapidly began flipping between thermal and light enhancement modes in an attempt to scry the other threat’s whereabouts, to no end. Giving up with a sigh, he toggled back to standard optical feed, only to catch another source of movement before a radar signature was detected. A Centurion.
There you-
The impact of an autocannon slug bouncing off his left shoulder shattered his train of thought, followed by Betty’s insistence that there were “Incoming Missiles.” Betty, at this point in my career, he mused with a grin, that might as well be my theme song. Backing off his perch, he discharged another hastily aimed ERPPC before dropping to the pavement in an attempt to shake the incoming fire. Neither worked: the cannon shot only managed to annihilate dirt, while the long range missiles struck him mid-descent, cratering his right arm, his torsos, and even impacting the ferroglass over his cockpit.
Ears ringing from the hit, he turned to re-position quickly. Given he lost the Wolverine, and it was a two on one, he had no intention of being pincered. Cross the T, and control the flow. Take one out at a time.
Swiftly making way down a small valley into the city proper, he rounded a building and was greeted with a momentary blip on his radar. The Centurion, right where I figured it would be. Before he had a chance to single it out, however, the Wolverine burst into sight, charging towards him from where he had just vacated, slashing a veridian beam from left arm to center mass of his mech, followed up by an autocannon slug to the Huntsman’s left torso.
Repaying the insult, he charged the Wolverine directly. Centering his reticule on the target, he let loose with everything he had in an attempt to finish it quickly. The right arm’s particle cannon fired in time with the left’s LB10X. The armor savaged, the twin medium pulse punched through into the internal structure of the machine, all the while the twin machine guns roared.
As if choreographed, both mechs continued their charge past one another and soared to the skies on their jumpjets, turning mid-air to unleash more hell upon one another – the Centurion adding its own weight to the fight therein. While the combined firepower of the two Inner Sphere machines managed to reduce all the frontal protection of the Huntsman to half, one additional cluster round impacted against the core of the Wolverine, putting it into critical condition. Again, however, the ERPPC failed to connect, burying itself into a streetside storefront.
Firing everything had a cost, however. The surge of heat filling the cockpit nearly stole the breath from his lungs. A reminder to pace myself. As he shifted right, Betty nagged of another salvo of incoming missiles. Leaping over the LRM fire, shrapnel tearing into his legs, he placed the PPC and another cluster round into the Centurion’s center mass before putting a wall between him and the enemy, flowing towards where the more aggressive, and more badly damaged opponent, was heading.
Right on queue, the Wolverine made itself known, creating a lightshow of medium lasers in his path. In return, the medium pulse lasers of his Huntsman sliced into the target’s innards, snuffing out the last vestiges of life the mangled heap of a battlemech had managed. Leaving only one.
Digging in his feet and skewing the mech about, he angled his machine towards the Centurion’s location. An errant stream of LRMs broke from the ridge-line into the sky, like birds startled from a bush. Missiles fired from a lock that would never come.
Bounding over the ridge, he reflexively fired a cluster round that exploded impotently against the street as he landed behind the Centurion. Reacting quickly, however, the spheroid planted a pair of medium lasers and an AC slug into the Huntsman as he attempted to vault onto an overlooking rock. Upon landing, another autocannon shell impacted, breaching the right torso of his machine, cutting deep into the internal structure.
In retaliation, he aimed downwards towards the boxy frame encasing the pilot’s body, releasing the LBX and ERPPC once more, completely shattering the primary ferroglass protection of the cabin. In panic, the Centurion pilot attempted to roll away from the Huntsman, using its bulky shield arm to deflect a stream of tracers from the machine guns. Tracers hungrily seeking the meat in the metal.
Perhaps it was an act of defiance, or a misplaced attempt to shear through what was left of the Huntsman’s side torso, but with a last glance towards this alien invader’s machine, the Centurion pilot’s fate was sealed. If there was enough left to constitute a corpse after the LB round exploded inside its cockpit, any traces of human was scrubbed clean by the particle cannon that immediately followed. Pilotless, a beast without a master, the Centurion toppled backwards. Like a marionette with strings cut.
“Dadga Alpha to Command: objective successful.”
Glancing up from the husk at his feet, he realized the sun had risen. A new dawn had begun, bearing witness to the work he had done. The foundation was laid. The liberation of Kagoshima from their barbaric ways of existence would be allowed to continue as planned. As was prophesied.
Edited by Pariah Devalis, 01 December 2017 - 06:47 PM.
