81 replies to this topic

[Listless Nomad]

July 30th 1212 hrs 3049
Two miles North of Ryan's Retreat

"GODDAMIT!"

Johann was furious. His carefully laid trap had gone straight to hell the instant the Hetzer had fired, with the Cicada now stopped dead in the middle of the road. Johann had hoped to fire on the mech with all three tanks at the same time, taking it out before it knew what hit it. Now the mech was alert....and angry.

Suddenly the Hetzer tank commander's voice crackled through Johann's headset.

"We're down! Repeat this is tank three we're down. Left front tire shredded, we're a pillbox now. Orders? Chief? You wanna hurry up and get us outta ere?!"

Johann frowned at the lack of discipline of the Hetzer crew. Ramshackle pirates, they had no sense of duty or restraint, and now that they were in trouble - panic set in. Calmly, Johann activated his throat mike.

"Dimitry, relax. It doesn't know you are still operational. Sit tight and let us engage it."

The Hetzer commander's voice came back immediately, panic sending his voice several octaves higher.

"Screw that! We're not dying here!"

Johann immediately looked over through the commander's viewport towards the concealed tank, which was overrevving its engine in an attempt to shift itself more toward the stationary Cicada. Johann saw the barrel of the main gun inching towards the mech. He glanced back toward the Cicada to see it torso twist beck toward the tank. In desperation, Johann keyed his mink again.

"Dmitry! Stop what you are doing. IT CAN SEE YOU!"

Just then, another PPC lept out from the Cicada, skewering the helpless Hetzer. The concentrated energy bore through the weaker top armor of the tank, disintegrating the crew within. The tank lay motionless for a moment, before the AC/20 ammo cooked off in a massive explosion, scattering debris over a wide area. Xerxes and Johann looked upward reflexively at the top of the tank as tiny pieces of metal began falling on their roof. From it's first shot until its death, the Cicada had needed only 30 seconds to finish off the Hetzer. Such firepower came at a cost however. Turning to his gunner, Johann smiled.

"She's running hot."

Grabbing the commander override, Johann slowly swung the turret of the mighty tank ever so slowly toward the Cicada. On the thermal display, the mech burned a brilliant white against the snowy background, the cost of its two PPC discharges. Calmly, Johann centered the gun reticule over the mech's hip actuator. He wanted a prisoner.

Suddenly the mech rocked from an explosion, causing it to totter sideways for a moment, throwing off Johann's aim. Reflexively his finger pulled the trigger, causing the massive tank to recoil with the main gun. The massive round found the center torso of the mech, instead of the hip actuator, shivering off almost a ton of armor, but not crippling it. Reacting quickly, Johann knew what he had to do.

"Ortelli! Get us the hell out of here!"

"Right away Boss man!"

Johann could hear the gears grind as Ortelli threw the massive tank into reverse, and felt the tracks gain traction as massive tank lept backward out of its hide. The Cicada was moving now, and easily dodged another round coming from behind the Rommel. Johann spun around and saw the second tank in his wedge charging up the road towards the mech. The longer gun of the Patton had allowed it to engage the Cicada, throwing off Johann's initial shot. Through his viewport, Johann could see the Cicada get up to speed, and raced past the reversing Rommel, directly towards the Patton. Instinctively he slapped open the breech of the main gun as Xerxes muscled a new round into the barrel.

The Patton stopped in the middle of the road, and raised its gun barrel to fire. Before it could however, a massive foot from the mech stomped down on it, crushing the front of the tank, and leaving it immobilized. The rest of the mech carried over the Patton and on down the road, rapidly putting distance between itself and the Rommel.

Johann swung the barrel of the main gun around, and centered it on the rear torso of the rapidly retreating form of the mech. With steeled eyes and his trademark grin, his stroked the trigger once and fired.

Edited by Listless Nomad, 13 September 2012 - 08:47 AM.

[guardian wolf]

July 30th 1215 hr 3049
Streets of Ryan's Retreat

John held out his Shotgun inches from the door, Derek had the right side, he the left. Joseph, Metlock, Connor, and Wilson were stacked up behind them. John called out a warning through the door.

"PAL, YOU CAN EITHER COME OUT WITH YOUR HANDS RAISED, OR I CAN COME IN, AND YOU WON'T LIKE IT WHEN I DO,"

"SCREW YOU MAN, YOU COPS DON'T SCARE ME!!"

John fired two shots into the handle of the door to break it, and kicked it down. Ducking to the side, Derek tossed in a flash bang, and they waited two seconds. It detonated before it touched the ground with a deafening POP. Their ear protection made it muffled to them, so they stormed in immediately. John went in first with his shotgun, and found the thief holed up behind a table. Well, he was holed up, but now, he was lying on the floor groaning, and holding his ears. John didn't waste anytime, he walked up, and kicked the man in the face with his boot, knocking him out cold. From the crack he heard he probably also broke his nose, but that was going to be the least of his worries when the interrogation came. Especially if Dmitri was doing it. John quickly searched the room, and found what he was looking for, three kilos of drugs, two SMGs, and a couple grenades. This guy had been at this a while. John collected the evidence, and then, walked back outside to the Maxim APC. Dmitri had taken to it, calling it his "Little Sasha", and being almost devotional to the vehicle. Granted they had "acquired" it from a nearby junk dealer, getting a bargain on what was left of their C-bills. After they got it running, they had restored it nearly to fighting condition, putting most of their money towards fixing it up, and making it combat ready. It was modified, because the cost to restore it was astronomical to them, and as such the LRM-15 was the only thing that was the same. The two side turrets had HMGs, the top turret an extra HMG, and in back, was a .50 on a stand, they used it to deal with people behind them. That and the SRM launcher that Derek kept, and Dmitri's own LMG. What that allowed for was that the only place they couldn't shoot at on the move, was directly in front or behind them. To counteract that though, the upgraded the engine, since they had so much more weight free, and added a little extra plating here and there. The only bad thing was that their only defense against mechs, was that 15, everything else was a pee shooter. John shrugged at it, thinking that for what they got it for, it was definitely worth it, as it beat walking. Going 135 kph wasn't bad too. Dmitri fired up the engine, and they zoomed off to the cop station to bring in the thief and small time drug dealer. John sat in the infantry bay as they drove. The rest of Delta beside him. In a normal combat op they would be manning the guns, but, as it was now, this was no combat op, and all there was to do, was bring this guy in. John shook his head, he and his men were not just soldiers, they were marines, Delta's marines. Men like these belonged knee deep in the sh*t, either on the ground in an assault, or in space boarding ships. Not, bringing small time chums like this piece of godforsaken dirt thief. He saw it on his men's faces, not only were they anxious, they were bored. The local whorehouse, arcade, where ever, it wasn't the same rush, the same feeling that you get from a real firefight. But the pay was better than decent for them, and the jobs, weren't that demeaning, even if it meant that the most they did, was do small time "cake walk" patrols, and such. He11, the lot of them could tell who the real law in town was, it was those damnable pirates. The very same people that John and his team fought, and killed. Never really there to help, always going to rob you. John blew his nose in slight disgust with the lot of them. But they were only one squad now, so what could they do? Fight? And get slaughtered, that was foolish beyond even marine reasoning. They finally reached what passed as the cop station around here, and dropped off the thief. John carried him out himself, and dropped him on the cement outside the building, where two of the city's "Police" waited. 'Wannabe cops' John thought, don't even have the guts to stick it out in a real firefight. The cop handed him a wad of C-bills, about 1,000 for the job, and the evidence. He walked back up into the APC when Wilson spoke.

"Hey Sarge, I hear that maybe we can find a good job up at the HPG station, wanna check it out?"
John laughed slightly, and smiled. Comstar giving a good contract, bullsh!t. Why not though, just take a looksy and see what's going on, who knows, maybe Comstar will give out a good contract for their APC and them.
"Alright Wilson, but if we don't get one, dinner is on you tonight,"
Wilson smiled, his black helmet had a gleam in the light of the bay. The Blue strip across it is what caught his attention. That was Delta's symbol, our symbol, of a team, a unit. All of their armor, and even their NANG suits had it. It was the first thing that bonded the men together, was that they shared the same armor. John hoped that camaraderie would keep them going in times like these. Dmitri fired up the engines again, and they speed off towards the HPG station. John hoped that maybe they could land some work on the side, as there were no big fights right now that he could help in. Well except for that report of the Cicada hauling @$$ towards their base, but that was outside his jurisdiction, which meant, even if he helped, he didn't get the extra pay for it. The men casually manned their positions, it wasn't like they were going into a hot zone, as the Cicada was literally miles away.

Edited by guardian wolf, 14 September 2012 - 06:30 AM.

[Thom Frankfurt]

[[Don't mean to step on anyone's toe's. Oni, I'm not sure what your plan is for the Cicada and it's pilot, so I'm leaving the end of the post vague, just so I don't ruin anything. I'm a good PC like that. ]]

July 30th 1212 hrs 3049
Two miles North of Ryan's Retreat


"Hey, what the h3lll is that idi0t doing?!" Gunther shouted in his peuberty cracking voice as the Hetzer slowly inched it's monterous autocannon in the direction of the Cicada. His voice echoed throughout the confines of the Zhukov leaving behind an uncomfortable silence as the Mech skewared the vehicle with a hellish blast of manmade lightning.

Dying fighting. Louis silently answered the teen's question, and held up a finger to forstall him as he whipped his head about glaring at Lou for the order to fire. The tank sargent ignored him by looking over his gunner's shoulder, with his gaze glued to the rangefinder data that was located at the bottom of Gunther's instruments.

"Hold..."

Just a little closer...

The far hillside erupted as tanks poured from their hideouts in the snow covered woodwork, guns a blazing and eager to destroy the man that all but mur dered their wedgemates. Louis nodded grimly as a stream of 200mm slugs slammed into the mech. The mech staggered for a second as the warrior fought against gravity as more than a ton of armor was obliterated by the Rommel's massive autocannon. Then another tank in the wedge, a Patton charged forward, death and destruction spewing from it's own autocannon. The shells slammed into the mech's side rocking it, but the warrior quickly regained his balance and stomped down upon the offending Patton defiantly crushing armor and burying the tank in the snowy mud all the way down to the top of it's tracks.

With the evil screech of tortured metal, the mech strode on. Gunther gave Lou another glare, to which he held up his finger again.

"Hold..." Patricia's head whirled around a look of disbelief marring her pretty face. Lou kept ignoring them as the rangefinder ticked down to 300 meters.

"FIRE!!!" Louis' roar was so loud the two Manticore's in his wedge probably heard him, but Patricia echoed his order into the radio just as soon he shouted.

Twin azure beams of manmade lightning streaked out from the Manticore's with one lancing squarely into the funky looking mech's stumpy arm/wing thing. The second beam missed, overshooting the top of the mech's head. A score of missiles shot out from the two tanks a second later, half slamming into the Cicada and blossoming into orange fireballs that lit up the countryside while the ones that streak by threw up geysers of dirt and snow which half obscured the mech.

THUMP, THUMP, THUMP! Lo-Pan's twin 100mm guns added to the misery of the Cicada, one barely missed shooting by the forward thrusted cockpit, but the other one bullseyed the huge rent the the frontal armor caused by the Rommel's earlier shot.

WHOOSH!! Lou's vision was blotted out by smoke and fire as six shortranged missiles launched out to drum against the teetering mech.

"DIE FUNKER!!!" Louis yelled triumphantly as he felt a slilght tremble vibrate through the Zhukov.

Edited by Thom Frankfurt, 14 September 2012 - 06:09 PM.

[Oni Storm]

July 30th 1213 hr 3049
1.5 miles to Ryan's retreat

As twin azure beams of man made lightning streaked out from the two Manticore's, one lancing squarely into the funky looking mech's stumpy aero-wing. The dark raven haired beauty trembled for the first time inside. (Gotta get past these frakkers and fast) Quickly the woman inside threw full hard left throttle and then cut it back to the right again. The second beam missed, overshooting the top of the mech's head by scant millimeters. A score of missiles shot out from the two tanks a second later, half scoring scattered blossoms of orange fire burst and lit up the countryside while those that streaked past threw up geysers of dirt and snow which obscured the mech's racing paint and outline.

July 30th 1214 hr 3049
1 mile North of Ryan's Retreat

THUMP, THUMP, THUMP! Lo-Pan's twin 100mm guns added to the misery of the Cicada, one barely whizzing by cockpit, (holy S%!t! That rat bastord!! This is all his doing I bet) Then it happened the other shell bulls-eyed and lodged itself in the huge rent of the the frontal armor caused by the Rommel's earlier shot. (Oh S%!t) she clinched her teeth knowing this was the end, but then nothing. Meanwhile the Rommel behind her had swung it's turret full around and pointed the huge barrel of the main gun, centered it on the rear torso and let loose yet another round of searing death, and even at such an extreme range caught the other wing and sent and half of the left side flailing off into the dirt and snow.

July 30th 1214 hr 3049
.5 Miles West by North West ridge of Ryan's Retreat

WHOOSH!! Lou's vision was blotted out by smoke and fire as six short ranged missiles launched out to drum and exploded short sending hundreds of tiny flechettes against the teetering mech. "DIE FUNKER!!!" Louis yelled triumphantly as he felt a slilght tremble vibrate through the Zhukov, only to realize it was his own tank now that was the target on the Locust's next leap and bounding off it like a springboard the mech miraculously continued it's leg up and beside the ridge and aimed itself squarely at the wall jetting out beneath.

July 30th 1215 hrs 3049
Yellow Jacket Cockpit
Outer Wall of Ryan's Retreat

Red flashes and warning klaxons were blaring upon ears and the cracks in both armor and the windshield were blasting the cold in upon her trembling and frail form now. Still the raven hair beauty refused to yield of give up til she was either dead or her will be done, (Almost there you can't stop me when I'm this close... I won't let you get away with this anymore you Bastord!!!) and as if driven by shear will alone the mech topped the wall's crest.

July 30th 1215 hrs 3049
The charred, oily, snow covered path North of Ryan's Retreat

A Jet black Ostsol, the visor a deep yellow and the claw-like hands at the side appeared now out of the still settling smoke and snow. The winds themselves and snow seemed to be held at bay as if by dread as they kicked up more and more with it's approach. It had already passed the still burning hulk of the doomed Hertzer and even now continued it's blazing pace as it closed in on it's long out running prey. Bjorn had finally found his target and on top of the wall no less allowing a perfect shot if he could just get a little closer. Around him everywhere were both the on lookers and tanks scattered and still scurrying to get their own respective type of shots [some from cameras others cannons] at the defiant lone figure in the distance.

Edited by Oni Storm, 15 February 2013 - 07:44 PM.

[G is for Gamma]

July 30th 0410 hrs 3049
Hope HPG Infirmary

The Comstar Precentor was at a complete loss for words. The young woman was raving like a madwoman, talking of angels, glowing men, and monsters. Hysteria over took the young woman, fits of sobs and laughter only subsiding as she slipped back into unconsciousness. Something in her words chilled him. "You got to save us Precentor.. The monsters are coming and Only You Can Protect us.. They Know You're an Angel!!! and They're Come to Pluck your Feathers Father…”.

He didn’t hear the Jacobson’s question him about the meaning of her cryptic message, lost in his own apprehension and thoughts.

“Precentor….Precentor…are you okay?”

As if waking from a spell, Precentor Sandtanner weakly smiled at the younger of the two men, trying his best to conceal his uneasy to members of his flock.

“I’m fine Danny...just, concerned for our guest is all.” He sighed, slightly shaking his head at the situation He’d so unexpectedly found himself in. “I’ve still got a mess of duties to attend to before vigil, be a good lad and sat with our guest.” Turning his head to the older of the Jacobsons. “Dan, if you’d walk with me for a minute.”

“Sure thing, Precentor….wouldn’t want to pluck your feat-.” A scowl from his superior prevented the man from finishing his sentence. The pair of older men walked out of the well-lit infirmary and into the hall.

“Dan, you know I go out of my way to overlook you and Danny’s…excursions…into Hope, despite our order’s poor outlook on fraternizing with outsiders…I need you to be honest with me, who is that woman?”

Edited by Gammadin, 15 September 2012 - 11:33 AM.

[guardian wolf]

July 30th 2000 hrs 3049
Outside Comstar HPG station

The ride as it was, was boring, even with Dmitri's crazy driving. The marines sat outside and waited to be admitted for at least someone they could talk to, security, the precentor, who ever might have been offering. John was toying with the idea of just leaving, as just being here gave him some chills. He didn't like the place, as it just gave him a bad feeling, like the one he had when he first signed onto the local contract between him and the police. But it put food on the table, ammo in the guns, and gas into "Little Sasha", so it wasn't like he had any choice. John looked down at a rock and kicked it, watching it fly off. Then he saw out of the corner of his eye, Wilson had broken out a deck of cards for a friendly game, to try and pass the time. John sighed, it was as good as anything so, why not? He sat down with the rest of his men, and quickly took a hand in a game of rummy. He sure wished who ever would hurry the **** up.

[Oni Storm]

July 30th 0410 hrs 3049
Interior Hallways of Hope HPG Relay station

“Dan, you know I go out of my way to overlook you and Danny’s…excursions…into Hope, despite our order’s poor outlook on fraternizing with outsiders…I need you to be honest with me, who is that woman?”

Daniel looked at the Demi-Precentor somewhat vexed as to where to start and over the course of the next few hours he walked, fumbled for the right words over a dozen times and continued both helping and stalling till he could get it all out. They had made the rounds checked and rechecked the equipment and finally, finally, it was complete; the information the Precentor was looking for. "Like I told you before Herschel." (He only ever calls me by that if things are desperate or we both had had too much of the sacramental wine) "I've been taking the boy down to the Blue Bunny for the past few months now, you know trying to get him interested, frankly with him cooped up in here so much and the way he looks at Samuel from time to time I think I had every right to be worried." The senior gentleman might have been open to most things but was still a prude when it came to his opinion on the naturalness and sometimes constant union of men and women as compared to more open practices taught by the local religions of the Matriarchal society and their seemly non-ending fascination with Yaoi, and cramming it down the throats of the young men every chance they got. "and what with him trying to fit in and be one of our only liasons with the outside world here. I had too." Tears started running down the older man face now as he continued. "So about two months ago I set him up with one of the girls down at the bar. I paid her to get friendly with him, and I mean Real friendly. anyway we'd been going back about every other night. I know. I know. I told you we were preaching to some of the locals. I do know we got a few oh gods and What in Blakes name is that? If that helps?" He smiled a bit broader and waited to see if it was alright to continue. Watching the momentary smirk on the Precentor's face his tears began to dry and he continued. "So about a month ago this one girl comes up to me. I usually just sit around and watch the preformances you knwo, too old for that other hub-bub and all. anyway she comes up and asks a few questions from time to time, mostly about our beliefs and what Blake would have to say about this or that. Then I don't know, maybe a week or two back she started asking about the Sentinels and where they came from. She started telling me she was having these weird dreams about the city abaze and the Sentinels waking and spewing forth fire and the like, but you as well as I those things aren't going anywhere regardless of how much we polish them right? Anyway I told her I didn't mess with them none and she shouldn't worry about any of it. that is was just a nightmare. I know she appeared to be pretty close with the girl you got in there. I mean from the floor exercises and all, not personally. Why do you think she's in trouble or something? Danny did say it looked like she's had some alterations done or some such, maybe she came to us to hide? You know it wouldn't be the first time our flock has increased from some runaway or hider type."

July 30th 2000 hrs 3049
Outside the HPG Relay of Hope

It was approaching the eight o'clock hour as the group sat continuing there game in the dim overhead lights outside the compound's main entrance. The sun had gone down some time ago and as Angela Jericho continued watching them on the security monitor she waited, like a cat stalking her prey, as the timer counted down. Flipping the switch she couldn't help but smile thinking about the mens' possible reactions as the halogen bulbs shown brightly and lit up the guardian sentinels of the HPGs grounds. The illuminated forms shinning now like some hold shrouded halo that reflected back cutting through the darkness as a mirror to the mini suns below illuminating the grounds. Looking up Dmitri and men really noticed the figures or the first time now all gleaming and bright like two medieval knights standing guard, their armor glistening a silvery chrome glean.

Edited by Oni Storm, 17 February 2013 - 03:59 PM.

[guardian wolf]

[Okay, missed a few points, but those have been corrected.]]
July 30th 2005 hrs 3049
Outside Comstar HPG station

When the lights finally turned on, Dmitri held up a thumbs up sign, as now, they could clearly see their cards. He then walked into Little Sasha, and five minutes later, came outside with huge pot of what looked like romin noodles, the cheapest of foods around here. The men dug in while they continued their game. Then Wilson spoke, as he noticed the Sentinels.

"Hey Sarge, I think we got ourselves some shinies here,"

Sarge chuckled. Shiny, was an insult, a joking one, where the party in question, had shiny armor. This was an indication that the mechs had never seen combat before, and was not dirty like a true combat unit's appearance would be. Even their armor had small amounts of dirt all over it, unlike the mechs over there. Then Wilson called out to the base, as if anyone was listening,

"HEY YOU OVER DER, WES BE LOOKING FOR A GOOD JOB, AND I KEN GUARANTEES THAT WE BE DOIN A BETTER JOB THEN THESE SHINIES YOU GOT RIGHTS NOW,"

John couldn't help but laugh at Wilson's little show. One of the security guards standing at the front gate glanced in their direction, not knowing apparently what "shiny" meant. The rest of the squad started to laugh a little, finally Metlock spoke up.

"Hey, Wilson it ain't proper manners to go about insulting their security like that. You get back to eating you big oaf," Then he turned to the base as if to apologize, "Sorry about my mate over der, what he meant to say I tink, was *clears throat*. Dat while you got plenty o nice guards to look at, but wes are marines, real fightin' marines. Wes are the kind that wrestles wit wolves, and kill bears wit our bare 'ands. We could take over dis here planet by ourselves if we wanted,"

John finally thought that was enough.

"Metlock, back to your post,"

Metlock barked the reply, like they were back in the Corps.

"Yes sir,"

They continued to eat while they waited for somebody to show up. The Sentinels by now, were probably confused as all be h*ll as to what these marines were saying, and if they were being insulted.

Edited by guardian wolf, 18 September 2012 - 09:00 AM.

[Listless Nomad]

July 30th 1216 hrs 3049
"Dirty Girl" Rommel Tank
Approaching Ryan's Retreat

Johann was shouting at the top of his lungs. Standing in the commander's cupola, the upper half of his body exposed to the frigid air. As the tank rocked back and forth, racing along the icy terrain at flank speed, Johann urged his tank on constantly. Like a race horse from old Terra, Johann cajoled and whipped his tank, trying to eek out every ounce of speed possible. With one hand gripping the pintle mount of the small laser, the other activated his throat mike.

"Ortelli - MORE SPEED!"

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Ortelli shook his head as Johann's screaming blasted through his helmet's speakers. He was already driving the tank beyond its usual limits, and in his opinion, was pushing her too far. The tank was rocking and rattling so much that Ortelli thought his teeth were going to rattle out of his head. At least they'd managed to score a number of decent hits on the enemy mech. When they'd turned around, he got a chance to see what the Cicada had done to their partner Patton, closing his eyes after witnessing the tank's crew trying to remove the mangled remains of the tank's driver. Ortelli kissed his fingers and touched the picture of his girlfriend he had hung next to the speed gauge of the engine. He prayed this day would be over soon.

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Johann brought his binoculars to his eyes, the image of the Cicada jittering all over the place as it bounded towards the base.

"Xerx - can you target that sucker with the LRMs?" Johann was leaning down through the hatch into the tank, yelling to Xerxes over the roar of the engine. Xerxes already had his eye glued to the sighting piece, attempting to get a lock on the fleeing mech. After a few seconds, the tank it the flatter ground surrounding Ryan's retreat, and Xerxes was able to aquire a lock.

"Lock aquired bossman. Although we are still out of range of the main gun."

Johann was a man possessed at this point, and his only desire was to bring down the fleeing mech. He watched as the mech lept, and landed none too gracefully atop the outer wall of the base. For a moment, it remained there...teetering.

"Fire."

The missiles lept from their tubes, directly in front of Johann. Their exhaust and smoke stained his face and uniform, blackening them both and giving him an charred appearance. Only his glistening white smile provided a contrast to the black on his face as he watched the weapons arc towards his quarrey.

Edited by Listless Nomad, 18 September 2012 - 02:01 PM.

[Oni Storm]

July 30th 2005 hrs 3049
Security Office HPG Relay; Hope

Angela Jericho continued watching the ***** little men on the monitor, so far they were proving quite amusing, apparently at least one of them must have been hopped up on something, cause they were talking at the Giant "shinies" as they called them. Cute she thought, she'd have to remember to tell the pilots sometime what the locals thought of Lancelot and Galahad. A curt smile and shimmy of self indulgence ran through her body then but was quickly quelled as she heard the mean obviously started to come down from whatever high they were on and begin yelling in general at the Mechs and base, it wasn't until she heard...

"Sorry about my mate over der, what he meant to say I tink, was *clears throat*. Dat while you got plenty o nice guards to look at, but wes are marines, real fightin' marines. Wes are the kind that wrestles wit wolves, and kill bears wit our bare 'ands. We could take over dis here planet by ourselves if we wanted,"

that her smile turned then as she heard the minor threat. Obviously these "pirates" didn't realize just who they were dealing with. "Upstarts" like these needed to be taught a lesson or better still eliminated from the gene pool. Her smile returned then as she pressed the button linked to the security bunkhouse.

July 30th 2007 hrs 3049
Com Gaurds Private Bunkhouse
Underneath the HPG Relay Station

The buzzing and whirling "RRRRR, RRRRR,RRRR" continuesly pounded throughout the sound proofed room of the Com Guards' quarters. The men and women inside were quickly donning their clothes and gear (for what must be yet another drill) when Commander Jericho's voice broke the horrid sounds off and she said "We have intruders outside ladies and gentlemen, These upstart pirates want to come here and threaten us and planet's inhabitants.By Blake's will we are to defend the lives of the peoples from themselves and the chaos of war that they bring unto one another. Gear up and muster in my office. Winter, Jenkins, Storm grab your high gears, Manning, Smitz, Cunningham, Williams bring up the busters they got some type of Armored truck with them. The rest of you standard equipment. Move I want you here NOW!" her voice trailed off and the alarms continued. The group turned and collectively starting handing out their gear from the weapons lockers, as Manning, Smitz, Cunningham and Williams open the door to main armory and proceeded down the stairs to grab their requirements from below.

Edited by Oni Storm, 15 February 2013 - 07:45 PM.

[Thom Frankfurt]

July 30th 1216 hrs 3049
"Lucky Lo-Pan" Zhukov Heavy Tank
Approaching Ryan's Retreat

It took a second for Lou to realise that the shudder he felt throughout the tank was not the Cicida falling dead at the foot, err... treads of his tank, but stomping on the Zhukov. Moving onward, the Cicida charged onward with a single minded porpose, a h3llbent stride aimed right for Ryan's Retreat. The Rommel tank known as 'Dirty Girl' rummbled by, sending out a rooster tail of muddy churned up snow. Lou couldn't help but notice that Johan was hanging out of the commander's cupola, whipping the tank with his hand like it would increase it's speed.

"What the heck is he doing?" Asked Gunther as he settled the crosshairs for the mainguns across the mech's lightly armored rear.

"I don't know, but we're stopping him," Lou then keyed his throat mic. "Tony, what the H3ll are you waiting for? Let's get him!"

With that Lo-Pan surged forward, knocking loose snow as the tank thundered off after the darting Mech.

"Patrica, make sure those nimrods in the Manticores are following us." Louis added as an afterthought to his radio operator who's silky voice coaxed the two other tanks in the wedge to follow suit.

The faster Manticores were quickly pulling alongside the Zhukov as the Cicida ignited it's jumpjets and hopped up non gracefully upon the icy walls of the fortress known as Ryan's Retreat. The Rommel's missiles flew in upon the mech as it attempted to gain it's balance. Two missiles landed in a one-two punch, causing the clutsy mech to stumble. The other three landed short, chipping and crumbling away at the icey wall of the fortress. A sudden idea came to Lou just then as he looked at the rangefinder for the main guns. 430 meters... just barely within extreme range for the 100mm autocannon...

"Gunther!! Shoot the wall out underneath it!!" He nudged Patrica and pointed at the radio, she quickly becall calling the shots for the rest of the wedge.

Thump, thump, thump... A thick cloud of black smoke billowed out behind Lo-Pan as caseless autocannon rounds shot downrange to pummel away at the wall. Two seconds later, two bolts of manmade lightning slammed into the walls, flashboiling the ice and sending chunks and slabs of brick and ice scattering about in a chaotic pattern.

The Cicida, one of the fasted medium mechs ever built, attempted to run as the ground beneath it crumbled away. But it wasn't fast enough. With a mighty crash the mech belly flopped upon it's already much abused torso. Seconds later it toppled over fell to lie still among the debris from the wall.

[Oni Storm]

July 30th 1217 hrs 3049
Machines of death, just outside Ryan's Retreat

Thump, thump, thump... A thick cloud of black smoke billowed out behind Lo-Pan as caseless autocannon rounds shot downrange to pummel away at the wall. Two seconds later, two bolts of manmade lightning slammed into the walls, flashboiling the ice and sending chunks and slabs of brick and ice scattering about in a chaotic pattern.

Another arc of lightning zipped forth from Bjorn's PPC, ending in a cascading effect across the Humpty Dumptied Mech. Shrugging he turned his Jet Black Ostol, it claws flexing in frustration and denial and began the solum trek back to base, and more importantly back to his bed.

The Cicida, one of the fasted medium mechs ever built, attempted to run as the ground beneath it crumbled away. But it wasn't fast enough. With a mighty crash the mech belly flopped upon it's already much abused torso. Seconds later it toppled over fell to lie still among the debris from the wall.

July 30th 1219 hrs 3049
Onlooking chase Hover-Craft interior
Half a mile back from the firefight

(Perfect just perfect. Stupid Surat) thought the man as he watched the wall crack and Mech fall in beside it buried in the rubble, as he watched from one of the onlooking chase hovercraft. (Well it'll have to do) He lifted the small metallic rod beside him, pushed the inset crimson button that sent a signal racing towards the receivers planted in the Mech's torso and legs.Then waited for the result.

July 30th 1219 hrs 3049
Yellow Jacket's Interior Cockpit

The Mech lay still, it's pilot hovering on the edge of life. She was caught in realms between looking back on the days of her happy life. The fountains, feeding the penguins, skiing every December regardless of the cold. Her first kiss with Macky Torn under the bridge near the wharf. The day the man of her dreams came to sweep her off her feet, and then the loneliness that set in as he grew more and more distant apart. The suspicions as one of her co-workers brought up the possibilities of an affair. The rage as she found the texts and letters he claimed "were no more than harmless flirting". and finally the pair of panties stuffed in the side of their hover car that had lead her to this. Then there is was her final scene as she stood looking atop the wall at his hover-car parked before the Playful Kitten. She was so close to taking him and that bit@h with him, but now just scant yards from the pleasure palace that brought all this down she had failed.) The young raven hair beauty let out her last sighing breath and fled this world just before realizing her dream was to come true.


July 30th 1220 hrs 3049
Inside the Outer Wall of Ryan's Retreat

The Mech had lay there for two minutes straight now and was being approached by onlookers from the local hobbles and shacks that lined the inner walls of Ryan's retreat. Most of the folks were mere hangers on and followers that went where the credits were, plying whatever trade they could to the local pirates. Be it beer, food, flesh, gambling, or anything in between these were the folks that brought desires to life. some of them ventured forth now that the Mech lay still, hoping to grab what they could and steal it away before the authority and gangs got here to it. As they approached however the motionless Yellow Jacket Cicada suddenly burst forth from the inside out, bellowing shrapnel and flame as the detonations sent metal and rubble scattering this way and that, disemboweled some, stone crushed others, and caught those closest in searing white hot flames. The feet went off next almost too soon to realize they were a separate event and continued to spray the wall in a white hot liquid goo that caught and burned at the walls edges and foundation slowing eating it away like that of a flesh eating virus on skin.

July 30th 1220 hrs 3049
Jimmy Keane's HD3D Holo-TV
tuned to Channel 5 for local coverage

"Local news channel five live with a special report on the Yellow Jacket Menace. We go now now live to Trisha Towmsend with an update." A slighty pretty blonde with one eye slightly bigger than the other and too full lips begins "Thanks Brenda. The rogue Yellow and Black Cicada now identified as The Yellow Jacket, that went on a terror spree through the warehouse district and city streets last night has been downed. Elements of Prescott's Perpetrators, the name the armor division of Ryan's Rebels refers to themselves by, downed the Mech just scant moments ago Brenda. Using a combination of various high powered weapons to bring the vagrant down as it stood triumpantly a top the Retreat's outer.... [Tuhooooooooo Tummmm can be heard over the reporters shocked cries and rumbling camera angels] Oh my gawd, oh my Gawd Brenda!.. something has happened down there... [the camera lurches forward and to the side of the chopper zooming on the now engulfed walls and shanty town shacks below now scattered to pieces of burning debris and rubble. The Bar know only as Quintons and the local pleasure house Playful Kitten can both be seen caught ablaze and burning brightly in the background] ..we can't see very well as the heat and flames are distorting our view right now but yes. Yes it looks like a good block of the shanty town that resides inside the keep is on fire or covered in debris and rubble. This is just awful a terrible, terrible tragedy as onlookers were gathering the Mech just apparently exploded. Covering those gathered and some just setting still inside their homes we're sure in liquid death and stone. I have no words and and..." [The camera cuts out the and is replaced by an inside studio view of Brenda Franklin a local anchor woman and small time celebrity.] "Apparently we are experiencing some difficultly with our live feed. Our hearts and prayers go out to those currently affected by this crisis and we'll work hard to get you any updates as they are made available. My the Matriarch watch over us all and keep those in need safe. This has been a news Channel five special report, stay tuned for continuing coverage of the Yellow Jacket Menace and further updates on this terrible tragedy."

Edited by Oni Storm, 15 February 2013 - 07:46 PM.

[RogueSpear]

"Local news channel five live with a special report on the Yellow Jacket Menace. We go now now live to Trisha Towmsend with an update." A slighty pretty blonde with one eye slightly bigger than the other and too full lips begins "Thanks Brenda. The rogue Yellow and Black Cicada now identified as The Yellow Jacket, that went on a terror spree through the warehouse district and city streets last night has been downed. Elements of Prescott's Perpetrators, the name the armor division of Ryan's Rebels refers to themselves by, downed the Mech just scant moments ago Brenda. Using a combination of various high powered weapons to bring the vagrant down as it stood triumpantly a top the Retreat's outer.... [Tuhooooooooo Tummmm can be heard over the reporters shocked cries and rumbling camera angels] Oh my gawd, oh my Gawd Brenda!.. something has happened down there...we can't see very well as the heat and flames are distorting our view right now but yes. Yes it looks like a good block of the shanty town that resides inside the keep is on fire or covered in debris and rubble. This is just awful a terrible, terrible tragedy as onlookers were gathering the Mech just apparently exploded. Covering those gathered and some just setting still inside their homes we're sure in liquid death and stone. I have no words and and..."
"Apparently we are experiencing some difficultly with our live feed. Our hearts and prayers go out to those currently affected by this crisis and we'll work hard to get you any updates as they are made available. My the Matriarch watch over us all and keep those in need safe. This has been a news Channel five special report, stay tuned for continuing coverage of the Yellow Jacket Menace and further updates on this terrible tragedy."

"Jimmy, are you listening to this?"
Jimmy continued cleaning the latest build up of burnt matter from the right turbine rotors, with an ice pick and pliers. "Yeah yeah, four clicks left, eighteen clicks right, six left again. I remember."
Mark Jones rolled his eyes. "Not me you fool, this! This insufferable noise you insist on playing. The Beloved Matriarch's expert news crews."
Jimmy paused in his work. "No..." He said cautiously. He'd be damned if the old man was using this as a trick to get his TV out the shop again. "Couldn't hear it what with me working and all. Why?"
Jones gestured vaguely with a wrench from where he was working on a new fuel injector. Hopefully it would stop the usual start up combustions, but he didn't hold out much hope. "They are talking about some mech going on a rampage. Those insufferable tankers brought it down. It seems they are still not putting any faith in your 'Big Wing'."
Jimmy closed his eyes for a three count, reminding himself to keep calm. These things were expected. His VTOLs were going to have to prove their worth before the Matriarch or her pirates put any confidence in them. They are fragile things. Give it time, and he would prove to them that the VTOL had it's place in combat, not just logistics.
Nodding firmly to himself, his mantra complete, his zen restored, his enthusiasm unhindered, he slammed the ice pick through a rotor blade right up to it's hilt.
"SON OF A B*TCH! This is a setback Mark, a setback! I'm telling you, all we're going to hear for months from the mechjocks, and the tread heads, and the aerospace jocks, and even those Defender *ssh*ts is how we sat this one out! UGH!" He banged the pliers down on the controls of the mechanical stepladder and jumped off as soon as his head was clear of the turbine. "Right, get this thing in the air. We're going over there right now, call the 'Wing, call the air chief, call...Mark..." His voice lost it's fevered pitch and trailed off as he looked at the slow mo replay of the Cicada exploding. "Those...Those look like natural explosions to you?"

[Thom Frankfurt]

Lou was halfhanging out of his commander's cupola, when the Cicida reupted in an epic explosion that rocked the 75 ton Zhukov. He quickly ducked back inside and slammed the hatch shut as shrapnel and debris, pattered down upon the tank clinking like rain upon a shacks tin roof.

"HOLY SHRIMP!!!" He exclaimed then looked though the periscope to look upon the scene of carnage. The mech's legs, twisted skeletal things were lying smoldering a good hundred meters from where the mech detonated. A lake of molten metal sizzled and ate away at the iced up wall with several buildings ablaze. And everywhere, people ran about in a panic. His mouth went dry, these were the rusults of his actions. And as these thoughts sank in, he sat there paralysed wondering what to do.

[Listless Nomad]

July 30th 1221 hrs 3049
Inside the Outer Wall of Ryan's Retreat
Johann's Rommel raced through the main gate of Ryan's Retreat and swung right as it headed toward the area where the Cicada fell from the wall due to the Zhukov's fire. Johann was still standing tall in his commander's cupola, gripping the pintle mounted small laser. At such close ranges, the small laser would act as a scalple, destroying vital systems and getting him the prisoner he so desired. After taking out the other two tanks in his wedge, Johann was going to get his revenge- one way or another.

The mighty tank rounded a building to see the mech lying prostrate, it's armor pitted and worn. There was little doubt that the mech was finished and Johann swung the barrel of the small laser away from the mech to avoid hitting the throng of people gathering. The turret of the mighty tank tracked slowly right, coming to a rest with the barrel aimed at the cockpit of the Cicada. Johann smiled at having conquered his prey when suddenly the mech ballooned outward for a split second, before exploding in a terrific explosion. Flames and debris rocketed upward in a gigantic mushroom cloud.

Johann instinctively ducked as a piece of shrapnel slammed into his helmet knocking him backward against the turret of the tank. Dazed, the world spun before him, a ringing, burning vision of hell. Smoke obscured everything, and the world before him too on an ethereal, hellish light. As his vision began to return, Johann began to see the civilians, some of them alight, running towards the tank, screaming and begging for help. In Johann's mind, they were firey demons, their unearthly screams and cries coming for his soul. When they began to climb the tank, something inside of Johann snapped.

"GET BACK! GET THE F*CK BACK!" Johann grabbed the small laser, trained it on the first demon and squeezed the trigger.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Xerxes felt, more than saw the explosion of the mech, as he was temporarily blinded from the flash through the gunners viewport. The entire tank shuddered from the overpressure, and almost immidiately he could hear the pieces of metal plinking against the outside armor. Xerxes looked across the turret and saw his commander's legs slump slightly.

"BOSSMAN! You alright?!" Xerxes didn't immidiately receive a response, but saw that he was still moving and knew that he hadn't been decapitated. That's when he heard the screams. Xerxes immidiately looked back through the viewport and saw the screaming, burning civilians running directly towards the tank.

"No, No, No..."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The ruby beam of the small laser sliced into the man, staggering him, but not stopping him. Insane with pain, the former bouncer continued toward what the primative part of his brain told him was safety and comfort.

As the small laser recycled, Johann's eyes were wild with fear. The demon, unfazed by the glancing blow his weapon had delievered, clawed his way onto the tank, coming directly toward him. Johann couldn't even hear himself screaming.

Suddenly, through the ringing, Johann heard a gunshot from his left and the demon's eyes rolled back in his head. Xerxes had popped out of his hatch when he heard his commander screaming, and had shot the civilian to put him out of his misery. Unfortunately, the man's crazed momentum carried his lifeless body forward, directly on top of Johann.

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Johann felt the weight of the man collapse on him, smelled the searing human flesh, and felt the heat of the flames on himself. Feeling his own clothes begin to catch on fire, Johann passed out.

Edited by Listless Nomad, 23 September 2012 - 11:52 AM.

[Oni Storm]

July 30th 1220-1300 hrs 3049
Balcony overlooking Shanty town of Ryan's Retreat

Little Jimmy and Roseland Blackthorn, two local children of one of the Retreat's many servants watched from a nearby balcony in admiration as the savior tank rumbled into the fire to pull people out, or so they thought. Instead the scene turned to one of horror and disgust as the would be savior and man a top it was joined by another and they both started gunning down the wounded and those on fire, further feeding more bodies to the flames as it began back peddling to the safety of a ferrocrete lot. Roseland's eyes grew wide and swelled as the tears began to flow from her face at the horrific sights unfolding before her. She buried her nine year old head into her big brother's chest in hopes that somehow he could make all the pain, suffering, and screams go away.

Jimmy took his younger sister into his arms, held her tightly and covered her ears to try in vain to make every bit of it go away. He began humming a song then, one that his dad used to do to get them to sleep back before he too went away. Jimmy hummed and held Roseland closer still, trying to will himself and it all away, but he couldn't he just.. couldn't, not now when he was so close. He continued to watch as the flames danced and played. There was almost a sadness to it he realized as he watched on and the flames fought to survive against the waters, sands, foams, and sprays. He knew it wasn't right to root for the flames, but there was this rush, this excitement as he watched the fire submit momentarily only to suddenly appear again elsewhere from a smoldering source. Sometimes it even seemed to dance from rooftop to rooftop. He could feel his sister's hot breath and shivering through his soaked shirt and gazed down upon her. She was looking up at him now, face filled with shock, bewilderment, and quizzical worry. He had no words and besides he was so.. so.. close. He held on to her now even tighter and closer and tried as he might to draw her into himself as he was still transfixed by the flames. They were becoming more and more controlled, that was what got to him the most. Beauty and raw power like that was meant to be free and unbound. He pressed himself hard against his sister once more and lead her through the halls back into her mom's room, flung her inside and marched his fifteen year old frame back to the balcony. (So close indeed.)

Edited by Oni Storm, 17 February 2013 - 04:03 PM.

[Oni Storm]

July 30th 1220 hrs 3049
Outer Wall of Ryan's Retreat

Michael Sandiego, sat there horrified at the events that unfolded on the groups little "joy" ride as the hovercraft zoomed past the main gates just ahead of a Rommel tank that had been involved in the combat outside. They were rounding the approach to the garage and vehical pins as the world shook and they began to see the bright glows of oranges and reds of in the distance followed by a thick black smoke that choked out the sun from any view between the two. He stared at the young boy who was grinning and beaming ear from in ear with a devilish grin of both awe and wonderment, and perhaps a bit of fantasy as to a dream come true. Michael had to believe it was that, anything else was just too sick and disgusting.

July 30th 1223 hrs 3049
Near the Motor Pool Pins of "Prescott's Perpetrators" in Ryan's Retreat

The hover-car continued onward in it's path like nothing had happened at all of even if it did, it didn't matter. He stared at the young lady beside him as she continued to drive towards the back of the garages and on towards the keep proper, she seemed to care little for the happenings and more about getting the boy home. (Yep I was right the first time BEE-ITCH) He felt a kick in his stomach and fought back the urge to ralph. Then he couldn't take it anymore "Stop the D@mn car. Both of YOU GET out GET OUT NOW!!! You freaks may not care...but there are people dying down there!!! Look LOOK at THEM YOU SICK F&$KS. I'm taking this vehical and going to help them and I'LL be D@MNED if YOU or ANYONE ELSE is Going to STOP ME!!"

July 30th 1226 hrs 3049
Flank of the Rommel; Inner Wall Ryan's Retreat

He had kicked the duo to the curb and rushed back towards the scene arriving in time to take cover from the flames behind the Rommel from earlier. He popped a window and started to call out for the wounded. Two people were loaded on by others that were nearby and trying to help, when all all Hell broke loose. The Chaos that ensued, as for some reason that was beyond him, from the tankers gunman as he opened fire on the crowd. People were running this way and that, and even began pilling on to the small hovercraft, their sheer weight of numbers bringing him down. The Rommel roared to life itself trying to break free before being swarmed, backed up and began crushing anyone and anything in it's path. There Michael Santiego sat trapped, the Cannery worker and nobody turned hero of Hope sat and contemplated all the "could have beens" as the tank's mighty track crushed in his legs, then his chest, and finally skull all withing seconds. Ending the would be hero of the Magistrate's short non-existent reign and it continued on full flank backward till it and the two top crewmen were clear.

Edited by Oni Storm, 17 February 2013 - 04:06 PM.

[Oni Storm]

July 30th 1240 hrs 3049
Jimmy Keane's Dilapidated Warehouse and Industrial Ruins

The incoming red line lit up on Jimmy's desk. Something that hadn't happened in months, and as Jimmy knew, meant trouble. Generally the line was reserved for only the most important of calls, usually from the high counsel, or some major underling of the Matriarch. Hesitantly Mark reached for the phone and before he could even get up the courage to answer the words were coming over the line. "We have a situation Wizard. One that only you can handle. The press has Retreat footage that can't get to the studio. They are currently inbound via a news van from the Southern coastal road. There is a possibility of the chopper as a secondary target, is everything understood? do you comply?" The words were cold and methodical, no feeling, no emotion behind them, just cold hard facts, straight and to the point. Mark turned white as a ghost to Jimmy and ran beside him and whispered "ahhh ahhh I.. I think it's for you."

Edited by Oni Storm, 26 November 2012 - 11:28 PM.

[RogueSpear]

July 30th 1241 hours, 3049,
Jimmy Keane's Dilapidated Warehouse and Industrial Ruins House of Fun,

Jimmy stared at Mark's ashen face and took the receiver. "Say again please? Our reciever is a bit sh*t and all I got there was static." He lied, locking eyes with Jones, who closed his own in relief. Glad to be able to say he hadn't heard.
There was silence on the line for a moment and then "We have a situation. Only person who can deal with it who can be trusted to deal is you. The press has footage from the Retreat that cannot get to the studio. They are currently inbound via a news van from the Southern Coastal Road. There is a possibility of the news chopper as a secondary target. Do you understand, Wizard?" The voice crackled through the line.
"Hooo boy are you guys behind the times, there's footage of that mech popping like half a dozen thermite bombs all of the news already. An' who's Wizard? Y'all might have a wrong number here, this is Jimmy Keane the Big Man," Rambled Jimmy obliviously, "Lemme ask you something, do mechs normally do that? Was that thing running that new myomer stuff the Davs tricked the Cappies with during the Fourth? Only I've got a bet, well I'm about to have a bet with my man Jonesy here tha-"
"Shut up." Crackled the voice, the instant Jimmy's brain suddenly went "Target?"

[[EDIT: Minor sentence restructure in Jimmy's ramble]]

Edited by RogueSpear, 23 September 2012 - 06:52 PM.

[guardian wolf]

July 30th 2009 hrs 3049
Outside HPG Relay Station.

John watched as now, the real security started to come out of the barracks, not only with sidearms, but ARs, laser carbines, and a few missile launchers as well. Delta’s reaction was not only fluid, but drilled; ever since the days they first learned how to counter such maneuvers in basic. Dmitri charged out of the back of Little Sasha, holding Sasha, his LMG. John and his men quickly grabbed their weapons and had them trained onto the new enemy, while Wilson executed a Calderon counter-roll designed to provide partial cover while bringing the target's profile into full silhouette, almost as fast as they would have done six years ago, back in the Corps. .

"Guys, this is a big misunderstanding, if you put down your weapons, we’ll do the same. As you can see, we aren’t pirates, because what pirates know how to pull that right out of the Tuarian Concordant Marine Corps handbook? Which was textbook Wilson-”

“Thank you sir,”

“Now, if you will just slowly put down your weapons we can talk this out. I certainly would hate to waste more ammo and life than need be here,”