454 replies to this topic

[Grafvitnir]

Graaf pushed open the doors to the mechbay itself and approached the 60-tonne titan within. He laid a hand affectionately upon its steel ankle, marked with red runes inscribed by Graaf's neighbors and friends, symbols of gratitude for the old Battlemech's service to the community for so many years.
He remembered the first time he had piloted it, perched on his father's half-prosthetic knees. The neurohelmet, still calibrated for his father, was a painful, nearly unendurable whine at the back of his skull, but still he had worked all day felling trees and dragging them to the river to rebuild the small bridge connecting their town with the cities to the north, their lifeline, knocked out by the winter storms.
Five years later, a growing young man, raising the mainpost for a neighbor's new barn; then striding off to spend all day climbing the coastal hills, feeling the 'Mech - now properly calibrated to his own mind - like an extension of his body. He felt the great golem sway and balance, he was conscious of every footstep, the density, texture and traction of the terrain underfoot fed directly into his brain, and he was able to compensate accordingly.
Graaf was jerked out of his reverie by Susgurd's voice,
"She is in better shape than since before she arrived on Vekfaren, and it has been many years since she had a belly full of LRMs. I suspect she will want some blood to wash them down!" He patted Graaf forcefully on the back, "Come! Let's get you settled in."

Graaf climbed the gantry to the open cockpit and lowered himself onto the padded seat. He and Sisgurd ran through a quick systems check, then he flipped the switch for reactor start and entered the ignition hardcode, followed by the voice code.

"Aegishjalm I carry between my brows."

"Voice activation confirmed. Startup commencing."

Graaf watched with satisfaction as the Dragon's MFDs and analog readouts alike came to life. The HUD splashed across his field of view, and he ran a quick runthrough of the targeting and movement controls - second nature to him now - as the war machine warmed.

"Reactor... Online.
Sensors... Online.
Weapons... Online.
All Systems Nominal."

He gave Sisgurd a thumbs-up, and the old man grinned, proud of his work, then began disconnecting the feeds that connected his 'Mech to it's harness. Coolant hose. Diagnostic feed cables. Soon the 'Mech was free. Shouting over the throbbing hum of the fusion engine as it warmed, he addressed the party; "I will give you fifteen minutes to get in position behind the depot! Then I attack! Best of luck!"
Sisgurd descended the gantry, and Graaf flipped the final switch, lowering the canopy and sealing him away from the busy, dirty mechbay. Warm. Quiet. Safe.

Edited by Grafvitnir, 04 March 2012 - 09:55 AM.

[Thom Frankfurt]

Thom watched as Graff made his way up the gangtry to the cockpit.

Dragon eh? He thought to himself. He never really seen that model up this close before, but it certainly looked impressive. From what he was taught at NAMA he knew it was fairly well rounded and fast for it's bulk.

That thing's gonna eat that Clint alive.

Graff stuck his head back out of the cockpit and began to shout.

Grafvitnir, on 04 March 2012 - 09:50 AM, said:

Shouting over the throbbing hum of the fusion engine as it warmed, he addressed the party; "I will give you fifteen minutes to get in position behind the depot! Then I attack! Best of luck!"

Thom was already on his way by the time the Oldman decended to the floor, but he wasn't heading for the door. During his meandering around the shop he did a little mental inventory of things that could proove useful in his goal of causing as much misery and chaos as possible. He now made his way to a workbench where there laid one item that peaked his intrest.

Reaching the workbench he took the canteen out of his disguise's web-belt and downed it's contents. Water. Cold and refreshing which offered some relief from the cottonmouth he'd been having for hours now. He smiled and smacked his lips a couple of times then took up the gallon sized can of paint thinner that was resting on the bench.

"Hey yo, umm...Sis...Gurd, [Thom is really having trouble with the Scandanavian names.] I'ms a borrowing some of dis."

With that he took up a primer funnel and carefully refilled the canteen. When done, he returned everything to where he found them, put the canteen back in it's holder and made his way to the door.

God, I can't believe I'm actually going through with this.

Sticking to the shadows Thom trotted his way onward to the destination to await for Graff to start the patry.

Edited by Thom Frankfurt, 04 March 2012 - 02:42 PM.

[Lina Thoren]

[[Sorry I haven't been able to post; catching up now. Reply on the way.]]

Lina scanned Sisgurd's very impressive collection, feeling somewhat torn. On the one hand, she was in the Republic to help make right a previous mistake: it was hardly appropriate for her to accept a gift for something she should've done long ago. On the other hand, with her Blazer pistol locked in the cockpit of her "Mech, she could use a better weapon...and she was sure Kevin, her husband, would love one of the longswords. And she feared that Sisgurd might read her refusal as a snub...

"For now," she said, her smile revealing none of her inner turmoil as she headed for the rack, "I'll borrow this." "This" was a finely-made bolt-action rifle, eight-round magazine, reinforced Enfield bolt system, with a beautiful natural wood-grain stock. Lina opened the action, ensuring both magazine and chamber were clear, flipped it up and in front of her so she could look down the barrel and check the rifling, then returned it to her shoulder, pointed in a safe direction, so that she could take a test aim. It only had iron sights, but between the workmanship and the "feel" of the weapon she realized she could drive tacks with it if necessary. Finding a box of appropriate ammo, she began loading both the rifle and a set of stripper clips, to speed reloading.

"And though I won't be carrying a sword on this one"--she already had her vibroblade and mini-stunstick, and wasn't much for melee combat in any case--"I'd like to commission you to create two blades, regardless of how things end here. I'll pay you in cash and in advance, so no worries there. I'll leave a note explaining what I want done with them, in case...well, you know. Just in case."

By the time Lina had finished scribbling the two notes, Graaf, Nathan and Thom were ready for their respective parts in this.

Grafvitnir, on 04 March 2012 - 09:50 AM, said:

Shouting over the throbbing hum of the fusion engine as it warmed, he addressed the party; "I will give you fifteen minutes to get in position behind the depot! Then I attack! Best of luck!"

"Suppose that's our cue," she said, noting Thom and Nathan was already moving to get into position. "Best of luck, sir," she said to Sisgurd, "...and thanks."

She then headed for the door, trying to catch up with the others.

[[I'll try and get the text for the note meant for Sisgurd's eyes up ASAP.]]

Edited by Lina Thoren, 04 March 2012 - 04:24 PM.

[Sloth901]

Nathan left as Graf entered the Dragon. Using a back alley he made his way to a shop opposite there target. He attached a suppressor to his machine pistol and began to clear the building room by room. Dead bodies littered the isles, and all the valuables had been looted. The shop floor was clear. He headed upstairs. The floor was full of offices and meeting rooms there were only 2 bodys up here, both lined up against the wall and executed by the looks of the blood stains, Cringing at the inhumanity he continued to the stairwell to the roof. As he headed up the stairwell he remembered the Clint. Sh*t, he thought to himself as he remembered the roof is at mech eye level. If he stepped out there he'd reveal himself to the Clint. He went back down to the office level bathroom and removed a small mirror off the wall and headed back to the roof. Nathan slid the mirror around the door. A sniper team was pearched overlooking the street.

The way he saw it he only had 1 option. Wait for Graffs attack and in the confusion take out the sniper, however if he isnt quick enough the others will be in danger. He'd have to wait.

The sniper team began talking, "target spotted leaving building 300m, b*stards wearing our uniform"
"Target confirmed, In sights, Fire."

A shot rang out and a body slumped to the floor, Nathan swung his still smoking assault rifle, to the spotter firing two rounds between his eyes. The Clint was now looking straight at him. Nathan dived back down the stairwell hitting the bottom as the doorway at the top was melted by two medium lasers. He got up and ran through the offices, rounds of AC5 and Heavy machine gun punching through the walls. Hopefully Graff would get the picture to start his attack. This building wont last long.

Edited by Sloth901, 04 March 2012 - 03:44 PM.

[Listless Nomad]

[[oooh nathan whatever have you done ]]

[Sloth901]

[[Saved someone a sniper round through there skull ]]

[Damon Howe]

[[will have to read all this once I get a decent break...been crazy busy.]]

[guardian wolf]

Draco cursed as the sniper round clipped his shoulder, and crouched holding his shoulder. He clenched his teeth, and saw blood on his hand. He'd get to it later. Now running to avoid the sniper. Draco sprinted toward the garage that was their target, and took a position next to the door. He saw Graaf's Dragon, charge at the Clint, and heard yelling inside. He tried the door handle, but it was locked, so he kicked in the door. The door went flying into a smaller room, that had three Dalian mercs inside, well now two, as the door had smashed into one. Draco also saw a slumped over figure, with a black cloth over his head. Firing, Draco dispatched the other two, the walked forward, and executed the last with his laser pistol. Draco then approached the hooded figure. He stopped close, and lifted the hood from the man's face. He had obviously been beaten, and Draco set about to cut his bindings.
"So, what's your name kid?"

[Thom Frankfurt]

[Computer is on the fritz so I'm gonna try to do this quick as possible.]

Man, are these guys gonna show or what?

Thom thought to himself. It looked like everone was gonna come to the building from different ways.

Go figure...

Thom wanted to get this over with as fast as possible so he took the more direct way. He made it to the rendezvous first and was hanging out on the second story landing of the stairway oblivious to the rooftop snipers nearby. When all Hell seemed to break loose.

Crack!

Thom instinctivly dropped when the heard the report of a high powered rifle. It was followed quickly by the clatter as the rifle tumbled from the sniper's dead fingers and fell to the ground below. Franticly looking around the night's darkness was momentarly dispelled by emerald colored laserfire which scythed through the upper story of one of the shops nearby. The bright lights were then followed by the strobbing muzzle flashes from the Clint's 'popgun.' The building's topfloor caved in upon itself, a smoking ruin with the occasional sputter of fire gutting up towards the sky.

"Oh s**t!"

Looking back up the alleyway in the direction that he had just come from, he saw Graff's Dragon making it's way onward to the depot.

Time to move.

With that Thom got up and thundered up the stairs, practically battering down the door. With assault rifle at the ready he quickly made his way through the building, finding no survivors, but plenty of bodies. Crumpled here and there where they fell, civilians judging from their attire. He couldn't help but notice that some of the women were in various states of undress. He grimaced at those implications jotting it down as another crime the Dalian's had to answer for.

Moments ticked by. It sounded like the Dragon was tearing the Clint a new one outside. He heard the drumming explosions of missile fire and at one point something slammed into his building knocking Thom off his feet as bits of plaster and overhead lights fell from the ceiling. Scrambling up to his feet determined not to be buried alive in case the building collapsed, Thom franticly searched for the stairs, and finding them, he flew down them to the door which he shoved aside.

[[Gonna take a moment to asess the situation. i.e. See what everyone is doing. I hope this didn't mess up anyone's plans and I hope it's not too aweful.]]

Edited by Thom Frankfurt, 05 March 2012 - 03:30 PM.

[Grafvitnir]

Graaf was still waiting in the 'mechbay when the unmistakable sound of medium lasers and autocannon fire erupted in the street outside.
Damn. Something's gone wrong.
Perhaps the group had been spotted on their way up the alley, or perhaps someone had jumped the gun, but either way Graaf knew he had no choice but to engage the enemy now and hopefully give whoever was still out there a fighting chance. He signaled Sisgurd to open the bay doors. A flood of adrenaline surged through his veins. He had seen combat before; no one graduated Northwind Academy without at least a few assignments shadowing a regular outfit on routine anti-piracy missions and the like, not to mention the many bar fights and brawls that Rundvik could offer a foolish young man - his father had chosen a good planet to raise a warrior - but this was the first time he had gone into combat without an instructor watching over his shoulder, with his few allies possibly dead or captured, and no chance of waking up hungover but safe in Alvfinnur's back room if things went badly. He smiled.

The Dragon, painted in heraldric blue and yellow, stepped forth in Vekfaren's blueish sunlight and turned towards the depot. He saw the Clint pouring fire into a nearby building, and tapped off two rounds from his AC/5 to get its attention.
While the Dragon was in most ways a superior 'Mech on paper, with Graaf's LRMs at less than minimum range their armament was identical, and to go up against a faster opponent with jump jets in an urban environment was not a comforting proposition. If Lina wasn't able to retrieve her 'Mech before the Clint caught up to and outmaneuvered him, things could go very badly indeed. Being left alone and damaged in a city full of enemies was as sure as a death sentence.

He put the 'Mech into a full backpedal, conserving AC rounds, but firing off his medium lasers as fast as they could recycle, and the Clint gave chase, moving farther and farther from the door to the KungsArme depot. One hovertruck remained outside, machine gun fire spraying into the damaged building, while the other raced forward after the medium 'Mech, attempting a flanking maneuver so that its SRM-2s could find the Dragon's vulnerable rear armor. Now Grafvitnir was well and truly in the hands of his new friends.

Edited by Grafvitnir, 05 March 2012 - 08:16 PM.

[Lina Thoren]

[[Here, but utterly exhausted. Expect a (hopefully) epic start-up sequence and Graaf's relief tomorrow morning, though.]]

[guardian wolf]

[[waiting for everyone else to post on current situation, before I do, as I am still with OffC3nter]]

[Orcinus]

[[I myself am waiting for Nomad's response to my arrival and Damon's challenge.]]

[Lina Thoren]

[[Sorry for stopping halfway earlier; batteries were dying on me.]]

As she pounded along behind the others, Lina reflected that, though the years might have been kind to her in most respects, she might be getting a little old to be playing dismounted infantryman. Still, there was something about lead and laser beams flying in one's general direction that made one forget about sore knees very quickly.

As expected, the Clint was moving off to deal with Graaf and his Dragon, as was one of the hovertrucks. Though they young man looked skilled enough, the numbers combined with his foes' greater maneuverability was going to be a problem...as was the remaining hovertruck, whose gunners was continuing to cover the street, firing into a building where fir had come from previously.

Taking a knee at the mouth of a nearby alley, Lina brought up her rifle, lining up on the machine gunner. The recoil was sharp, slamming into her shoulder as the man crumpled. Surprised by the sudden silence, the driver looked about desperately, spotting Lina just in tame for her to put her second round into his chest. Safe for the moment, she sprinted for the depot, barreling through the door Draco had kicked in.

She started to bring up her rifle again, but stopped short as she realized they weren't Dalians."God dag," she said to the one she didn't recognize, as casually as if she'd simply met the man on the street. Then, back to Wolf, urgency returned: "C'mon, Graaf's hip-deep in it out there!"

She pushed further into the building, gun at the ready. It proved unnecessary: most of the guards were apparently distracted by Graaf and his Dragon, leaving only the dead--mostly the KungsArme techs who'd made an effort at defending the place. Grimacing, she forced herself to remain on task. The dead couldn't be helped, but there were others she could--and to do so, she needed to mount up, and quickly.

The familiar sent of coolant and actuator grease brought Lina to her destination quickly enough. Il looked as if they'd only just gotten her Dervish--bearing the pale blue with green highlights of the Skye March Militia, her current unit--off the hauler and in a standing position when the attack hit, then activated its security system as the depot was overrun. Until she gave gave her biometrics and passcodes, it wasn't going anywhere.

She raced to the mech cubicle's elevator and quickly ascended to her cockpit. Let's get into the war, shall we?

A quick retinal scan and numeric code got her into the cockpit, where she quickly stripped her (by now ruined) AFFC dress uniform, trading it for a t-shirt, shorts and cooling vest. Removing the lighter Lyran-style neurohelmet from its shelf above her command couch, she lowered it onto her head, making sure the balance sensors were correctly lined up on the shaved portions of her head.

"Welcome. Please identify yourself." As the 'Mech was a loaner, Lina hadn't yet had time to change the tinny-sounding default electronic voice.

"Hauptmann Lina Thoren."

"Voiceprint match confirmed. Pass phrase?"

She smiled. "'In a trail of fire, I know we will be free again.'" She'd chosen the line on a whim when she received her original Dervish, almost twenty-one years ago, from an ancient Terran song that had been covered a few times over the centuries. Had she known then where her life was going to take her, she wouldn't have changed a thing; it fit perfectly.

Immediately status updates began flashing across her neurohelmet's HUD. One change she had made was to disable most of the 'Mech's vocal cues after initial startup; she'd always found them distracting. She could mentally process a text scroll more quickly.

Gently, she took hold of the left-hand stick, easing it forward. The 55 metric ton war machine eased forward, the miniature earthquake her footfall created announcing that she was back in business. She turned towards the door, realizing belatedly there was no one in the bay to upen it up. Hell with it, she decided, easing her machine into a run as she accelerated towards the exit. With a thunderous crash and a screech that fit Lina's callsign--Banshee--perfectly, she crashed through the roll-up door and into the street.

Edited by Lina Thoren, 07 March 2012 - 05:14 PM.

[Sloth901]

The hail of fire calmed and Nathan knew it was time to make his move. He headed for the exit, just as he reached the door the gunner took a shot to the neck darting across the street he saw the driver take a hit aswell. The situation was perfect, Graf had distracted them enough. He caught sight of Lina rifle still in hand at the end of a nearby alley. Hed have to remember to thank her later. Nathan jumped into the gunners seat of the Hovercraft and let lose. Dalian infantry around the Clint where taken by supprise as the machine guns were turned on them and the SRM 2 rained shrapnel all around them. The second hovercraft had manovered past Graf now and Nathan couldnt get a clear shot. Thats when he saw it. The sniper rifle lay in the street directly under where he killed its previous owner. Picking it up He lined up a shot and fired. It went wide missing the gunner by at least a metre, Nathan turned a dial on the scope zeroing the weapon. The next shot didnt miss The gunner recoiled as the bullet passed through his throat. his last action to fire an SRM that trailed wildly off into the sky. The driver was departed just as quickly.

By now Nathan had decided to keep this new weapon. He fired 3 more shots each killing a Dalian and then proceeded to enter the target building, Sniper flung over shoulder he drew his assault rifle and prepared to kick down the door.

[Thom Frankfurt]

Thom ran out into the open tarmac, half expecting to be gunned down once he made it a few feet from the door. But nothing happened. He ran onward to the lone hovercraft with the realisation that the plan was actually working slowly dawning on him.

"Well I's be damned, it's wurking."

Looking around he saw no sign of the Clint nor the other hovercraft, but he could hear the sound of battle taking place fairly close. He quickly made his way to the remaining craft huffing and puffing. Reaching the craft he noticed the two bodies slumped over, blood splattered everywhere.

One shot kills... decent shooting.

Thom shruged and yanked the driver out of the seat and took his pace. He tried not to think of the sticky red puddle he was sitting in as he threw the craft into gear and started to take off back towards the target building, Draco or Nate may have need of a ride out of there.

These guys have one minute, they don't show or if any d-bags do, I'm outta here.

Thom slammed on the brakes and the craft came to a screeching halt by the door he exited from. With the craft idling in gear, he started fiddling with the communication bands.

Oh s**t, what channel did they say they were gonna be on? 7? 17?

Thom clicked through the channels trying to remember which one it was. He stoped on one frequency. It was requests for backup to put some Rasahauge mech down. There were several different replies that help was on the way. Desiding that he had no time for guessing games, Thom opened up an open channel that any active coms in the area would pick up. Clenching the mic in a slightly trembling hand he began to speak.

"Yo Draco!, Nate, hey's der's a wurld of hurt heading dis way. I's got da ride. You's bedder hurry, or your walking outta here!"

Several demands for him to identify himself quickly answered him, to which he calmly replied.

"Yer Daddy!"

Any other cute remarks that he had were cut off by the screeching protest of tortured steel as the mechbay doors begrudgently fell to the wrath of Lina's Dervish. It was quite a sight, and Thom sat there silently wishing Lina luck. He had a feeling that they were all going to need as much luck as they could get.

Thom checked his wristcomp.

45 seconds....

Edited by Thom Frankfurt, 07 March 2012 - 12:47 AM.

[Charles Martel]

[[Any room for a Snake senior officer on a layover from buying a new toy?]]

[Nor Azman]

[[Welcome Charles Martel! Everyone is a bit rushing right now, with the running and the shooting and the getting on battlemechs and such. You're happy to rush with us if you like! Hope you have a battlemech, and hope your battlemech's insured! Wait, I'll write a short summary of the story so far...

To Listless Nomad, Orcinus, Grafvitnir and Damon Howe, really sweet battlemech paintjobs, particularly Damon's jenner. Worth every c-bill.

To Thom, *hails with hand on hand x tribute* Hail metal brother.

To Off3nter, yea, I am a bit apprehensive myself on writing in BT. Read some books way, way back, but a little fuzzy with the particular nooks and crannies and all. Well lets just wing it and have fun. (I will watch myself of course) Apologies ahead if sometimes my BT references seemed a bit 'off centered'. *geeky snort*

Okay, okay, short summary.]]



THE STORY SO FAR


The Free Raselhague Republic. The planet Vekfaren.The city Rundvik. The pub the Windborne Raven. It was early night, or is it early morning? Well dark is dark and the time for a drink was then. Soldiers of Houses, soldiers of fortune, or soldiers of the tap, all came for mead and mirth at the Windborne Raven.

Of notables in this particular time and space were,

Grafvitnir Holmlunsson or Graaf (Grafvitnir)- a recent graduate of the Northwind Military Academy and member of the FRR KungsArme

Hauptmann Lina Thoren, Grafina von Dundalk, or Lina Thoren (Lina Thoren) – a AFFC military advisor to the Free Raselhague Republic

Thom Frankfurt (Thom Frankfurt) – a former New Avalon Military Academy dropout who have since been to the rough and tumble of one mercenary unit or the next

Captain James Söderlund (Listless Nomad) of the 1st Robinsion Rangers

Korpral Damon Howe (Damon Howe) former member of Wolf's Dragoon's Black Widow Company, now joined to the Skjaldborg Mercenary Unit

Sergeant Nathan Annison (Sloth901) of the Vulkaneers Mercenary Unit, currently in grief for the death of his comrades

Draconis Wolf or Draco (Guardian Wolf) of Wolf’s Dragoons

Azman (Nor Azman), introducing himself as a small bit trader


All was well and right with the world and the Windborne Raven. Until whimsical fate, or predetermined destiny, or just men with assault rifles, chose to turn events out.

A mercenary group seemingly gone rouge, the Delian Guards, began to sack the city of Rundvik. The Windborne Raven was not spared from the violence. In the confusion that broke and the grenade blast the followed, the group of notables found themselves split in two as they fled into a city bathed in gunfire and blood.

One group – Graaf, Lina, Thom, Nathan and Draco, and the other group – James and Damon on different paths perhaps but the same goal in mind – to get to their battlemechs and from there safety, if safety can be had.

The streets of Rundvik were overrun with Delian Guards infantry, armour as well building tall battemechs patrolling about, looting and killing. The two groups, trained and battle hardened, and with mechwarriors’ uncanny luck, managed to sneak and fight their way to their respective destinations.

The smaller of the groups, the duo - James and Damon fought their way and managed to get on their battlemechs, James in his Centurion and Damon in his Jenner. The two was joined by a new ally piloting a Grand Dragon.

Lojtnant Orcinus (Orcinus) of the the Skjaldborg Mercenary Unit

The other group of Graaf, Lina, Thom, Nathan and Draco had encountered difficulty on their end. Their location was not just guarded with Delian Guards soldiers but with an enemy battlemech Clint as well. Devising a group plan, Graaf managed to get on his Dragon and engaged battle with the Delian Guard Clint. Lina managed to get to her Dervish and is rushing now to aid Graaf in his fight. Under supporting sniper fire from Nathan, Thom has managed to commandeer a hovercraft. While Draco managed to rescue a captured mechwarrior and potential new ally

Rory Alastair (Off3nter) of unknown affliation.

The clear and pressing shout from Thom was heard, "Yo Draco!, Nate, hey's der's a wurld of hurt heading dis way. I's got da ride. You's bedder hurry, or your walking outta here!"

…Doom was approaching….


…….a little far off from the grand adventures and dare-do-wells of all mentioned, was a man who began with the rest at the Windborne Raven but seemed somehow lost at the moment. I am not! Riding a limping Vulcan, here is the side of the story of a man they called Azman….


[[I may have skimmed some [i]minor[/i] details here and there, maybe because I am forgetfull or maybe because I'm biased. To get all the strawberry-delish details, read the whole thread. Its a good read, shared by good players.

Oh yeah ps.

Listless Nomad, on 03 March 2012 - 12:07 PM, said:

"Don't run! Let's be friends!" With that he squeezed the triggers on his joysticks and fired his medium lasers.

]]

Edited by Nor Azman, 08 March 2012 - 03:17 AM.

[Listless Nomad]

[[hey guys - sorry I'm on a business trip right now so Damon and Orc, I'll get a post up tonight hopefully and not have you guys waiting on me anymore. In addition, I'll try to read what everyone else has been writing the past couple days.]]

[Nor Azman]

[[I claim this post as '[i]This Post[/i]'.... Give me an hour or two. will write about Azman's Adventures. Hopefully a good one too.

edit - Take care LN!. Have a good trip man. Hope you joined up soon. Love reading your posts! ]]


There is a school of thought within the Inner Sphere adhering to the techno-mythic ideal that the relationship between humanity and technology to be more then just functional. That the long standing interaction between organic and manufactured approaches a sort of symbiotic bonding between the two, even cosmic in its nature. The ying and yang. The non and nin. The two halves that make the mandala whole. Most visible proof to this belief that some advocates is the visible relationship between mech pilot and battlemech, or battlemech and mech pilot. That the almost intimate connection between both would arguably manifest in shared characteristics between the two. That a battlemech would mirror the characteristics of its mech pilot and the mech pilot mirroring the characteristics of his battlemech....

So if any of those who would adhere to this belief about the relationship between humanity and technology, about mech pilots and battlemechs, in particular those ‘techno-priests’, those adepts of ComStar, if any of them had stood in the battle-torn streets of Rundvik and looked up, what would they make of it, had they seen a Vulcan battlemech limping about in a zig-zag way between buildings as if playing a giant’s game of peek-a-boo.

Not that Azman liked sneaking and hiding, much, as he peeked out of a building, but it seemed always safe be ninja at times. Azman and the Vulcan began zig-zag and zaging through the streets in a ninja fashion. “The duck is shot because it flies in a straight line”, so goes the general wisdom of duck hunting.

Azman clicked his teeth and checked his radar. He wanted to avoid them, ever since his sensors picked them up. But zig-zagging about, all ninja like didn’t really help. Now they were fanned out in an arc, and him trapped in the centre. Azman clicked his teeth.

First to be visible on his left was a Flashman, 75 tons heavy battlemech, one large laser to each of its left and right arms, four medium lasers to its torso, and a flamer on its head. Shiny.

Next visible to Azman’s right was a Jagermech, 65 tons heavy battlemech, one AC5 and one AC2 autoncannons attached to each of its double barrelled arms. Two medium lasers at its torso for good close up encounters. Azman can’t help but be fascinated looking down the barrels of the Jagermech’s double autocannon arms….

On the Azman’s sensors, though out of sight, lurking at the back, fit the profile of a Bombardier. 65 tons heavy battlemech with two LRMs 20 misslepods on its chest, one SRM 4 mounted to its right arm and a heavy machine gun attached somewhere just for chuckles. You will probably feel a rain of LRMs on you before you actually see a Bombardier.

But the sight that gave Azman most fear, and Azman was honest enough to know when to fear, was the sight in front of him, walking towards him. The image of a heavily armoured Thug, 80 tons assault battlemech, its twin PPCs, one mounted on each arm as well two SRM 4 missle pods on its body for those close hellos. The 2 PPCS the Thug had could easily blast Azman and his 40 tons Vulcan away like an after thought…

Oddly enough, alongside the lumbering Thug, strode, almost like a kid brother, was a 30 tons Urbanmech. Short, stout, barrel-like with legs, the Urbanmech’s small laser it had for a left arm was laughable, its AC 10 autocannon it had for a right arm was not. Nasty midget of a mech, the ‘urbie’ was a city fighting monster. For some reason the Urbanmech was looking at Azman angry like. Of all the battlemechs arrayed, the Urbie seemed to be the one most twitchy for a fight.

A heavy lance plus one Urbanmech…. All bearing Delian Guard colours with the serpent wrapped around a star insignia showing prominently. These guys are not playing around.

Azman checked his 40 tons Vulcan. Damaged all about. Right Arm gone. Right Knee keep making funny sounds. AC 2 Autocannon checked. Medium Laser checked. Heavy Machine Gun checked. Jump Jets checked. Hmm… jump jets. Azman believed he had a chance. Azman closed his eyes for a moment then open them, focused.

“Time for some thrilling heroics” Azman encouraged Vera.

Azman and the Vulcan limped forward towards the Delian Guard heavy lance, ready and set. Then, distance closing, adrendaline running, mech heat building... they snapped to, pilot and battlemech, giving a smart salute with their left arm to the Delian Guards.

“Vulcan, I have been trying to hail you for the past two minutes,” came a radioed voice from the Thug. A woman’s voice with a ring of telling men what to do. “Is there something wrong with your communications?”

The silent Vulcan in Delian Guards colours shook its head.

“You look damaged. No matter. Fall in. We heading to nav gamma. Check your objectives screen. Multiple enemy mechs sighted in the area. Now fall in, and dont get left behind.” Again the woman’s voice had that ring of customarily being obeyed.

…women…

The silent Vulcan in Delian Guards colours raised its left arm as if cheering for the Delian Guards.

Yea Delian Guards! ‘We’re not evil. We’re just greedy.’

The silent Vulcan in Delian Guards colours fall in behind, as the Thug, Flashman, Jaggermech, Bombadier and one short Urbanmech began to push forward. The Urbie gave the Vulcan an angry look before moving on.

…Nasty Midget….

The reinforced Delian Guards Heavy Lance advanced, ready, determined to squash any and all resistance.


[[Heads up guys. Reinforced Delian Guards Heavy Lance heading your way. one Thug, Flashman, Jagermech, Bombardier and one very very angry Urbanmech. And... dont mind the limping Vulcan behind them. ETA- Very very soon.

Okay guys fight or flight time. LN, Damon, Orc, any back up would be really appreaciated. Yea Windborne Raven!!! ]]

Edited by Nor Azman, 07 March 2012 - 04:12 PM.