454 replies to this topic

[Damon Howe]

Orcinus, on 08 March 2012 - 02:43 PM, said:

The Grand Dragon turned to the Jenner and lowered its head slightly, as though shooting a glance at it. He opened a private channel to Damon.

“Blå stål.”

Damon didn't know much Swedenese, but he did know the several code phrases for confirming fellow Skjaldborg Units.

"Blodrött." He replied, giving the appropriate counter-call for the Drakjagare.

Keying the private channel between all three of them once more, Damon gave a quick rundown, while turning his back to his fellow mechs to at a hovercraft that had been sneaking up on the group.

"Here's the sitrep. We [Damon and James] were at the bar when this whole place came under fire. Until now we've been fighting pretty much on our own to get here, but there's another group of mechwarriors out there that are just as pissed as us at these jokers. I don't know their intentions, be for now I think we can assume they're 'friendlies' or at the very least neutral."

Damon fired on the unsuspecting hovercraft, who had thought it made a clever move until now. The vehicles' nose dived to the ground as the laser melted off the front armor, swerving erratically at the assault and crashing into a nearby wall for his efforts.

"We can suspect that a large force is gonna be coming this way to take us out, so we need to decide what we do right now, and fast."

Damon fired off another laser, destroying the hovercraft's skirt and effectively making it inoperable. The pilots, fearing the next shot, fled the burning corpse in earnest.

"I don't know how you got here Orc, or what our next move should be. I suggest we rally with what friendlies we can find from earlier, but who knows where they are now - though if we follow the fighting it shouldn't be too hard to find them."

Eyeing his static-y radar and noticing his screeching comms on regular channels, Damon soon realized what the others probably already knew as well. There was at least one jammer out there, and it was probably in or nearby the Merc's dropships. It might mess with their communications as well, but having the damn things in their possession put them in a hell of a better position than everyone else.

"With this jammer, or jammers, we can't get anything but laser-communication or visual contact." Damon said, saying aloud what everyone else was thinking."

"I can take point, run a scout sweep through the city. You guys can either follow at a distance or we can meet up at a fixed location. I also have an ECM Suite. Inside 600m you'll be able to see my mech on your radar if the other jammer doesn't cancel it, but outside all you'll hear is the wine of more static. Inside the 600m, you'll also be protected from the enemy picking up on your radar signature.

Damon eyed the mercs from his post on the edge of the depot. They had stopped fleeing, and now seemed to be gathering and organizing somewhat.

"Commanders, it's your show. Since Captain James is the higher ranked I do believe he should lead this little party...but I'll let you two decide that."

Damon fired a large laser at a building roof just 200m away, blowing up the wall and sending the mercs tumbling down four stories or vaporizing, where a second large laser cut down the rest of the observation party. After all, he had to make a point that they didn't have time for debates.

[[Simply put: Warm fuzzies all around, now lets go kick ***!]]

[[Edit: Graf, not gonna lie, I SO did not read your post before Damon assumed where the jammer was. No seriously, I didn't. Therefore, it still counts. ]]

Edited by Damon Howe, 08 March 2012 - 04:28 PM.

[Orcinus]

Damon Howe, on 08 March 2012 - 04:26 PM, said:

"Blodrött."

Alrighty, then. Now on to more serious business…

The Jenner turned around to engage a hovercraft that was attempting to sneak on the group. A few large laser shots effectively took the vehicle out of commission. All the while, Damon was giving a rundown of the situation.

Ok. Bar explodes. Pissed off, but probably friendly, mechwarriors are running about. Big group of punks gunning for us. And lots of freaking jamming.

Damon finished by firing some more shots at a building, no doubt engaging some mercs that had taken refuge inside.

Gotta hand it to ‘im. He’s pretty good at multitasking.

“I don’t mind deferring command to the captain. As a suggestion, though, I agree Damon should take point, while we follow from 600m away. Since the Centurion is slower than both of our mechs by a good 30 kph you’ll need to stop every now and then so we don’t lose contact with each other. While I have my Guardian Suite set to ECCM, we should be able to maintain contact up to 600m unless they have a lot of jamming signals.”

On cue, he flipped a toggle on his dashboard.

ECCM: Active.

“Our top priority should be locating the other guys from the bar. Second is locating that ‘large force’ you mentioned, although we probably shouldn’t engage them at our current strength.”

He turned to the Centurion.

“Sound good to you, Captain?”

[guardian wolf]

Draco saw an Aerospace fighter screech overhead, it was Phiro's Centurion. He was close enough that he heard the incoming transmission.
"Hey, Guardian, we got another unidentified, it's a flyer, is he friendly,"
"I don't know, he's Kuritan, be careful,"
"Roger, Wolf Dragon, out,"
Draco recieved Nathan's transmission, and muttered under his breath. "If we get that far,"
Draco turned the hovercraft, and started to follow close behind the battlemech, and transmitted the coordinates to Nathan. He hoped like hell this plan worked.
[[If you would like I can post from Phiro's point of view as well Charles.]]

Edited by guardian wolf, 08 March 2012 - 06:31 PM.

[Charles Martel]

[[Might be a good idea Wolf.]]

Charles visually scanned the area below him. Lots of heavy mechs coming into play. He did a quick systems check, no armor or structural damage, and heat was normal for fighter mode.

Piloting a LAM requires the flexibility of water. Get too into the mindset of an aerospace fighter pilot, or a traditional mechwarrior, and you were doomed. They are fragile, rare, and in many ways inferior to a dedicated fighter or mech. But those only mattered if you played by fighter or mech rules. The LAM was a harsh and demanding mistress, use it to its fullest, and she will be one of the deadliest combat assets in existence. Use it wrong, and try to force it to be something it is not, and she'll kill you stone dead.

Still, he was glad he left his rarest Phoenix Hawk LAM at home, as if he had a choice. The LAM presented to him by Theodore Kurita himself was even more rare than this one, a genuine PHX-HK1, the original SLDF Royal BattleMechs variant. But that rarity was something Charles was working to his utmost to change. With the free time he's had, and his position as a professor at DIHL, he has been working to reverse engineer the LAM transformation system. It gave him a new respect for the immense genius of the people who invented it. He was aware of the difficulties being faced with trying to redesign the Stinger LAM to use the new endosteel internal structure. The answer was obvious. When the PHX-HK1 was designed, endosteel was available, but not used because the additional volume it took up interfered with the transformation mechanism. What would be required was a new internal structure that provided comparable strength and volume to a standard structure, but with reduced weight.

He paused his revery as he noticed an ASF flying at a lower altitude, it was a Centurion, obviously the other "friendly" air asset in play.

[Thom Frankfurt]

guardian wolf, on 07 March 2012 - 06:58 AM, said:

"Thom, this is Guardian, switch to channel seven,"

"Kay."

"And to all Delian mercs out there, you better hope I don't make it to my battlemech, becuase if I do, you all are dead men, so retreat while ou can, Draconis Wolf, out,"

Okay, saying what channel we're gonna be on is just gonna make everyone listening monitor THAT frequency. Not too bright are we?

Thom didn't switch frequencies, he was hoping to eavesdrop on more Dalian gossip. He eased up on the brake and the craft shot off across the tarmac.

Something screeched on by overhead... heading towards where the sounds of battle was coming from. Thom was intrigued. Turning off onto the road he traveled in the direction that the jet went.

Well they had their minute, it's not my fault if they couldn't get the lead out.... Guess I'll try to meet up with the others.

Upon the road he floored it and the hovercraft jerked with a newfound speed but that didn't last. Crushed cars and damaged buildings cluttered up the road forcing him to slow down. It wasn't hard to follow the way that Lina and Graff lured the Clint, still glowing globs of molten armor plate dotted the ferrocrete leaving an easy trail for him to follow.

I should call those two Hanzel and Gretel.

He wound his way down the street passing a severed Clint arm and a bunch of dead Dalian infantry. He looked on the scene of butchery and shruged.

They got what was coming to them.

With a thunderous roar the flying thing flew off overhead. Thom rubbernecked it trying to follow the craft.

No, it cannot be!

Dismissing what he thought he saw, he turned onto a new street and could see the smoldering remains of the Clint. And beyond it, Hanzel and Gretel and their mechs. Thom pulled on up in front of the them and shouted at the duo.

"SO'S, NOW WHAT?!"

Edited by Thom Frankfurt, 09 March 2012 - 03:43 AM.

[Durgan Carlyle]

Charecter: Durgan Carlyle
Born Atreus, 3025 (24 Years Old)
5'10" Blonde Hair, blue eyes
Clean shaved, Faded Hair style, with average build.
Wears a basic jumpsuit with the virbrant purple of the Free Worlds League colors, black combat
boots typical of infantry.
Carriers a basic issue laserpistol
Retired member of the Free Worlds League Ordinance Division, Working as a Mech Tech until
recently relieved from duty.

Durgan just narrowly avoided the Dalian infantry fire as he entered what looked to be a vacant building. Durgan looked around and found a large bookcase, he pushed as hard as he could drawing on what little energy he had left to push the bookcase infront of the door just in time as his pursuers attempted to open the door. Durgan was on his last leg exhausted and in intense pain from a round that had grazed his side as he first escape. Durgan worked his way up the four flights of stairs knocking over anything he could to slow down anyone who might try to follow him up. Finally he reached the roof access door pulling his back pack off he opened up a small pouch on the side and pulled out a flare gun, Durgan pushed the door open flinging his back pack onto the roof and stumbled out falling to his knees. Durgan cocked the flare gun and raised his hand slowly pulling the trigger Durgan thought to himself, I hope someone sees this. The Flare screamed out of the gun, Durgan looked up in time to see the flare explode and then blacked out.

Edited by Durgan Carlyle, 09 March 2012 - 02:55 PM.

[Listless Nomad]

[[nice intro Durgan - but unless you are over 1000 years old, you might want to update your birthday lol. still - welcome aboard!]]

[Durgan Carlyle]

[[hopefully thats more accurate]]

[Lina Thoren]

[[Crap posted too early! Editing...]]

Charles Martel, on 08 March 2012 - 02:09 AM, said:

"This is Reserve Sho-sa Charles Martel of the DCMS to the St. Ives Militia BattleMech. I've noticed a bit of excitement and would like to offer any assistance, as it looks like the Delian bandits have a heavy assault lance on the ground."

His misidentification of Lina's 'Mech's colors, though something of an ego-bruise--she'd been involved with Alexandria's militia since its founding--was also a relief; as it suggested that they hadn't yet tried to kill each other, and wouldn't be expected to anytime in the near future. Things were going to be awkward enough as it was. There was a time, not that long ago, when she would've opened fire on the man on general principle.

Of course, were that still true, she would never have been trusted with this assignment. As she'd said before, there were good odds of her running into her opposite number from the Combine (even if he did technically outrank her).

"Domo, Sho-sa Martel, and thanks for the intel...and the assist. Hauptmann Lina Thoren, Alexandria Skye March Militia, on advisory duty with the KungsArme. Apparently the Dalian Guard is expressing some..."dissatisfaction" with their current contract. We're rallying what forces we have to put them down."

Grafvitnir, on 08 March 2012 - 01:19 PM, said:

"Lina. Beautiful shooting. Confirm Clint is down. We should head after the hovertruck as soon as possible. What is the status of the technicians? Tell Amalja she owes us a round of drinks!"

Lina, jaw tightening, made certain that she was on a private channel with the young Rasalhaugian before she said anything else.

"..Graaf." Supposedly, Lina had always heard, this part was supposed to get easier after the first few times. After nearly twenty-five years in the service of Archon and Commonwealth, she was still waiting for it to happen.

"The Dalians hit the depot hard, probably before they even got to the Raven. The techs gave a good accounting of themselves under the circumstances, and ensured that none of our 'Mechs in the depot fell into enemy hands, but.....I didn't see any survivors." She paused. "Be advised, however, I didn't have time for a thorough search. Some may yet have managed to escape, or be holed up inside..." A pause. "Graaf...I'm sorry."

Thom Frankfurt, on 09 March 2012 - 02:56 AM, said:

Dismissing what he thought he saw, he turned onto a new street and could see the smoldering remains of the Clint. And beyond it, Hanzel and Gretel and their mechs. Thom pulled on up in front of the them and shouted at the duo.

"SO'S, NOW WHAT?!"

I recommend we pull back, determine what forces we have available, regroup....and then counterattack as soon as possible." She frowned, remembering what she saw in the depot. "This cannot stand...especially not in a nation already ill-disposed towards mercenaries as this one. Mercs did this, and unfortunately tarred the profession in the eyes of the indigs. And, though it's grossly unfair to drop this burden upon you.....if you want to ever work here again, mercs need to help set this right."

Edited by Lina Thoren, 09 March 2012 - 08:54 PM.

[Listless Nomad]

“Sound good to you, Captain?”

James looked out over the smoldering city and nodded to himself.

"Ok gentlemen, let's get this show on the road. This depot is likely to attract more attention than we can handle, and it's a little too open for my tastes. Let's begin by skirting the edges of the city, there are bound to be a lot of infantry, the deeper we go into the city, and I'll be damned if we get slowly picked apart by pukes with manportable rockets."

Smoke and flashes caught James' eye, coming from some of the landing pads on the edge of the city. It appeared some of the dropships were still fighting. Remembering what Damon said about the jamming device, James figured clearing some of the dropship pads would be the first order of business. Just then, James noticed an aerofighter powerdiving towards the center of the city, before pulling up and....

"What the hell?" James thought. That must be an LAM. "Who in their right mind still pilots LAMs?"

Just then multiple explosions flashed on the horizon near where the LAM had descended. James opened a tightbeam to the other members of his makeshift lance.

"Listen up guys, someone brought a LAM to this party. Looks like it came from orbit, and since word of this little shindig hasn't gotten out yet, you can bet it's hostile. Keep your eyes on the skies. Should be another bogey up there as well - I think that one is a friendly however."

Damon's Jenner began moving off towards the battle around one of the dropship pads, keeping his speed slow to allow James' Centurion to keep up. The Grand Dragon fanned off to form the other leg of a sloppy triangle. The two heavier mechs kept just at the edge of the 600m mark from the Jenner, allowing Damon to scout ahead and not have the other two mechs give away his position. James warily kept his eyes on the sky. He'd seen the LAM take off again, but was nowhere to be seen for the time being.

The combined effects of the other two mech's ECM gear was lessening the effects of the jamming, and James began to get intermittant mech signals from deeper in the city. James couldn't shake the feeling that they were being watched, but kept himself oriented towards the fires burning on the landing pads, just over 1km ahead. As James' Centurion trudged along in the city streets, he couldn't jelp but admire James' Jenner as it gracefully bounced along, performing it's scouting seemingly effortlessly. The Grand Dragon was a sight as well. Stomping along a few hundred meters away, roughly parallel to James' line of travel, the huge axe rose and fell, coming into and out of view. James had no doubt that would come in handy soon.

[[Wanted to leave it open for you guys, so the two of you could determine what action we run into. As I have it in my head, we are in a triangular formation, with the Jenner leading. We are marching along a path that skirts the edge of the town, right on the edge between forest/farm and taller buildings. We are walking through most 2 story homes at the moment, on a arching path towards the drop ship landing pad where the townsfolk are fighting back (unbeknownst to us). I'm on the more forest leg of the triangle, while Orc is more on the city side - due to his heavier mech and EECM. From what I'd guess, Graaf, Lina and Thom are near the city center, Draco and Nathan are heading toward the same landing pad as us. The heavy assault lance is between our lance and Graaf/Lina. Azman is closer to us than Graaf/Lina. Since you are scouting Damon, let us know what we find - or if we get ambushed Orc, describe what we are up against. I've been super busy/sick lately so I wanted to give you guys a chance to drive if need be. I should be around more now however. Can't wait to see where this takes us. As for the LAM, just to let you know the Robinson Rangers hate the combine, and my character is likely to think that the mercs are working with the combine. Also, my friends are no fans of dracs either so use caution if approaching us ]]

Edited by Listless Nomad, 10 March 2012 - 09:53 PM.

[Damon Howe]

[[crap, now I have to think of something.... ]]

Damon pranced along in his Jenner, keeping close to the small buildings on his right and slowing down where he had cover before sprinting across intersections, lasers pointed towards the center of town and the commotion.

A flare launch got his attention. It was towards the city center still, but fairly close, perhaps only three blocks away.

"Flare, two o'clock high. Roughly 400 meters towards city center." Damon keyed back to his partners. At this range voice communication was very broken due to the jam, but the keyed communications still went through thanks to the laser-comm system.

After receiving an affirmation from both, Damon moved out into the open of the road and looked around. Noticing a 3 story building another city block down and half a block towards the city center, Damon set up a direct line of site and analysed the building. The structure seemed to be slightly better made than the buildings around it, and was likely reinforced in some way. Damon punched in the calculations into his computer and received a green light.

"Jumping to the three story building, one block up and half a block towards the center. Will give an update from that vantage-point."

Damon gave a running jump before leaping the three stories, blasting the last of the fuel to soften his landing. The building groaned at the sudden addition of 35 tones to its roof, but held. Stomping in place to confirm the building would hold, Damon crouched and took in the view.

5 Blocks along their original heading was the next Landing Pad for Dropships, where two were currently docked. The area seemed to be under heavy fire, but apparently had some resistance fighters either defending or attacking the Dropships. From this distance and with the jamming in place, Damon couldn't make out Friend or Foe. Two more blocks towards the city center and on a roof 'across the street' from his building, Damon noticed some sort of scuffle going on, with several men dragging another away with them. Beyond that, fire raged in the city center some five or six blocks down, and the corpse of a mech, assumed to be a medium, could be made out leaning against a building. Sporatic laser fire and auto-cannon shots came from that direction. Scanning the rest of the field from what he could see, Damon reported all that he could back to his commanders, looking for his own LZ should he need to get off the building in a hurry.

Spotting a small 2 story project building 50 meters away and another block down, Damon decided that it would have to do, should he need to move in a hurry.

[[I think I protrayed everything accurately...correct me if I'm wrong.]]

[[Basically, LZ and main firefight are just out of my visual range given nighttime and urban combat. Drugyan I can see, but have no idea whats going on. ]]

Edited by Damon Howe, 10 March 2012 - 10:41 PM.

[Charles Martel]

[[Then your character may have heard of him, or at least by the description "some crazy drac in a LAM who flys it like he's trying to break it" during the Battle of Quentin]]

Charles matched direction and speed with the ASF, but keeping a distance. Last thing he needed was to run into someone who couldn't keep their mind of the matter at hand. Trying to maintain a solid tight beam com link between two moving aerospacecraft was akin to trying to shoot an LRM down with a medium laser, difficult, but not totally impossible. The challenge made it all the more interesting.

"Aerospace fighter pilot, this is Sho-sa Charles Martell, but just call me 'Salaryman' for brevity's sake. We need to find a location to get this battle away from a populated area if at all possible. That Delian heavy lance doesn't look like they're going to care much about collateral damage." He took a breath, "I am well aware that you have no reason to trust me, but frankly I really do not care, the people of that town are more important."

And there are some things Charles liked about being outside of the Combine on vacation, he could say exactly what he thought. And sometimes that could be scarier than playing "Good little DCMS officer".

[[Well this shindig is the bombiggity]]

Edited by Charles Martel, 10 March 2012 - 11:13 PM.

[Nor Azman]

[[

Listless Nomad, on 10 March 2012 - 09:48 PM, said:

"Listen up guys, someone brought a LAM to this party. Looks like it came from orbit, and since word of this little shindig hasn't gotten out yet, you can bet it's hostile.

Shindig! Shindig! Mighty fine Shindig!

Listless Nomad, on 10 March 2012 - 09:48 PM, said:

The heavy assault lance is between our lance and Graaf/Lina. Azman is closer to us than Graaf/Lina.

Eep. Someone's watching me... ]]

Azman sneezed in his Vulcan with a sense that someone was watching him... An image of a jenner prancing flashed before his mind. "Battle fatigue." Azman nodded to himself.

Am not being paid enough for this. Expecting a horrible death by fire and laser is one thing but hallucinating prancing battlemechs about is not worth the paycheck!

Azman shook his head, accepting the hazards of mercenary life.

[Nor Azman]

[[Hihi. Durgan Carlye! Really neat that you're role playing a mech tech. Whenever I come across techies, they are always lying down dead for some reason. Like referees in wrestling matches. Finally a techie that will kick bud and take names! Hopefully a flying dragon, or a jenner prancing or a hovercraft blaring heavy music will see that flash signal and give you a lift.

Oh Charles Martel! Real sweet LAM. Haven't seen a machine that sleek since the days of Macross. Opps. My bad, my bad. Honestly man sweet LAM. Nostalgic.

Welcome welcome Kevin O. Resk! Feel free to jump in at any time. For ideas maybe GM Grafvitnir has a few or maybe players here. Ooh, ooh, maybe you can role play a Delian Guard with a conscience. (It could happen) or maybe, maybe, you're a blue collar factory worker piloting an industry mech. Being doing lots of double shifts because times are hard. The Delian Guards attack on the city was the last straw that broke your stressed and overworked mind. You hot weld autocannons to your industry mech (you collect autocannons, dont ask why) and you go all Rundvik Avenger! ...or, or you can role-play a leaper from Quantum Leap. Thats always my excuse in RP when I get confused...

(Just love 80s referencing in 2012. Hey the world's going to end. Kawabanga. )

Ps. Apologies to Graaf, Lina, Thom and Rory. The following post is on the assumption that you all have left the Clint (been itching to type something about that mech), you all have left to better defensible positions or are heading to that big mean Drop Ship everyones been talking about.]]



The Duke sat on a raised dais, in solemn dignity, surveying his court. An old general of some renown sat knelling, his back upright, his hands calmly placed to his lap, his eyes cast down in genuine humility. The Duke observed the old general, considering.

“Tell me Honoured Guest,” the Duke began, “Who would you have to lead my four armies? The Courageous Man who when no boats are to be had, will wade the sweeping river bare-chested, and who would fight off roaming tigers with his bare hands… Or… the Cautious Man, who would deliberate on every step he makes?”

The old general’s eyes remained lowered, understanding the way. “Tis is a wise question my Lord,” the old campaigner nodded, “And the answer is clear. It is…...”

guardian wolf, on 07 March 2012 - 06:58 AM, said:

"And to all Delian mercs out there, you better hope I don't make it to my battlemech, becuase if I do, you all are dead men, so retreat while ou can, Draconis Wolf, out."

The Urbanmech looked side to side as if accepting the radioed message as a personal challenge. Again the Urbanmech gave the Vulcan an angry look.

Hey don’t look at me Urbie. I’m not part of any goram dragoons. It is so-called heroes that get other people killed.

The Urbanmech looked at the Valcun as if for an instance understood where the Valcun was coming from. The Urbanmech then went back to scanning the immediate area, ready to accept any and all challenges.

You know Urbie. You’re not half bad.

Whatever beautiful friendship that was starting between the short Urbanmech and the limping Vulcan had to wait as the Delian Guards Heavy Lance began to slow down, then stopped.

Up ahead in an intersection, was a smoking wreckage of a battlemech, the colours of the Delian Guards clearly visible. Approaching closer, the make of the scrap metal corpse was that of a Clint.

Well-practiced and professional, each of the Delian Guards Heavy Lance went to point, securing the perimeter. The silent Vulcan went to the wreckage of what once was the Delian Guards Clint battlemech.

Oh Eastwood. What have they done to you, old man?

The silent Vulcan knelt, right knee creeking. All you wanted to do was ride off into the sunset. And now…

The silent Vulcan raised his left hand at the heavens, for the benefit of the Delian Guards Heavy Lance who were watching. By the Delian Gods, you ought to be avenged! The silent Valcun shook his left hand in displayed grief and anger.

“Vulcan, we will end those who did this." The woman’s voice radioed from the Thug, in a matter-of-fact tone. The silent Vulcan continued shaking this left hand at the heavens, for other reasons.

Was there something in the sky?

Then for Azman, time slowed. Azman’s eyes widen. It was not because of the low hum of the Thug’s twin PPC being prepped, or the whizz of the Flashman’s large lasers being charged, nor the feel of a ‘click’ from the Jagermech’s double barrelled autocannon arms and the Urbanmech’s AC 10 autocannon. No. Azman held his breath for the image of the Bombardier, standing as silent and as still as Death… Then, the heavy fire-support battlemech began firing a rain of long range missiles into the sky…

[[Okay stay froggy people. need to go to work. And dont mind the rain of LRMs ]]

Edited by Nor Azman, 11 March 2012 - 01:02 PM.

[Durgan Carlyle]

Damon Howe, on 10 March 2012 - 09:56 PM, said:

[[Basically, LZ and main firefight are just out of my visual range given nighttime and urban combat. Drugyan I can see, but have no idea whats going on. ]]

[[I think you were trying to spell my name haha but thanks, just waiting around to get in no rush dont wanna ruin a good RP pretty awesome so far haha.]]

[Thom Frankfurt]

Lina Thoren, on 09 March 2012 - 08:44 PM, said:

[[Crap posted too early! Editing...]]

"I recommend we pull back, determine what forces we have available, regroup....and then counterattack as soon as possible." She frowned, remembering what she saw in the depot. "This cannot stand...especially not in a nation already ill-disposed towards mercenaries as this one. Mercs did this, and unfortunately tarred the profession in the eyes of the indigs. And, though it's grossly unfair to drop this burden upon you.....if you want to ever work here again, mercs need to help set this right."

He was pretty sure that Lina and Graff had their external mics on, he didn't have to shout anymore. He cleared his throat and talked in as normal a voice as he could summon.

"Well, I'm's athinking dat my mech's about's oh, I dunno... five klicks dat way."

Thom pointed in the direction [[luckily his direction sence is better than Azman's]] of the more industrial parts of town.

"My's garage has room's for all our mech's. I dunno about's repairs, but we's can atleast add my 45 tons to our cause. Wait, what's dat sound...?"

Thom's dialoge was cut off my the high pitched scream of an incoming missle bombardment. [ha-ha]] The warheads seem to drop out of nowhere, detonating in random locations. Blossoming in red orange explosions the missles reduced the already damaged buildings to rubble.

"S**T, THIS WAY!!"

Thom exclaimed as he floored it. The hovercraft shot off into the direction of the garage passing through raining brick and flying debris. He didn't look back to see if the others were following. He ducked causing the craft to swerve when a brick crashed against the windshield. Sticking his head back up he corrected his course putting the vehicle in the center of the road and held his breath as demolished buildings and debris piles flew by.

The drumming of the missle detonations trailed off leaving an errie silence which was cut off by the roar of an autocannon and a corner store caving in on itself as he zoomed by. Approaching the next intersection he slammed on the brake and turned sharp to the right, the craft sideslipped and fishtailed into a parked sedan with a bone jarring crash.

He shook his head to clear it and stomped on the accelerator. With a keening protest, the craft zipped off on a cusion of dust. Thom tapped on the brakes and took the first left he found into an alleyway. He heard a whoosh as several missiles flew by blasting apart the front of some automotive supply store.

Something big and nasty on my butt... just a little further.

Through the alleyways Thom raced, dodging dumpsters and leaving behind a swirling cloud of refuse and old newspapers. He took a left at the next main drag. This area looked familiar, buildings he had grown used to walking or stumbling by on his way to or from bar hoppings. He sped on down the deserted street, the building he so desperately sought lay ahead at the top of a three way junction. With men huddled outside the doors, trying to force their way in?

Try to steal MY mech!

Thom lay on the horn and floored it, the men turned. He wasn't sure if it was the sight of the Dalian hovercraft riding them down or the thought that he was coming to their aid, but they didn't even attempt to dodge..

The last thing Thom remembered before ramming through the garage's double doors was the sound of tortured metal, slightly muffled by the sound of human bodies being pulverized.

Nor Azman, on 11 March 2012 - 12:39 AM, said:

The Duke sat on a raised dais, in solemn dignity, surveying his court. An old general of some renown sat knelling, his back upright, his hands calmly placed to his lap, his eyes cast down in genuine humility. The Duke observed the old general, considering.

“Tell me Honoured Guest,” the Duke began, “Who would you have to lead my four armies? The Courageous Man who when no boats are to be had, will wade the sweeping river bare-chested, and who would fight off roaming tigers with his bare hands… Or… the Cautious Man, who would deliberate on every step he makes?”

The old general’s eyes remained lowered, understanding the way. “Tis is a wise question my Lord,” the old campaigner nodded, “And the answer is clear. It is…...”

[[Been reading Decision at Thunder Rift? This whole predictimet reminds me of that book. Duke Ricol, you J e r k!!]]

Edited by Thom Frankfurt, 11 March 2012 - 01:36 PM.

[Damon Howe]

[[tempted to say screw this, rock and freakin' roll time!]]

[[Orc! Post dang it!]]

Damon watched as more mechs poured into view, gathering around the fallen Clint and setting up a small perimeter. Damon observed as one mech, a Vulcan, limped its way forward and surveyed the scene. The mech then bowed, and raised its left arm as the other mechs turned to apparently acknowledge his visual readings. At 650m, the mechs were barely in visible range and on the far edge of weapon range, and just outside the jamming signal range from his own ECM.

At once, the five mechs turned, facing towards Damon's left and firing a large salvo of LRMs. It didn't take much to figure out what was going on.

Keying his computer, Damon reported back. "Contact at range. 5 enemy mechs ranging in weight class. One limping. 650m to my 12, moving slowly bearing roughly 9-0. Requesting orders."

As he did so, he saw the men from earlier on the roof bust out the front door of the same building, still carrying their hostage.

Damon keyed again. "Hostiles on foot, 150m to my 12 right side, carrying hostage."

Damon could rush in and take care of things, sure. But one of the consequences of loading up on the heavy weaponry only was the high risk of overkill...and he really didn't want to fry a hostage along with an entire street corner.

[Orcinus]

Listless Nomad, on 10 March 2012 - 09:48 PM, said:

"Listen up guys, someone brought a LAM to this party. Looks like it came from orbit, and since word of this little shindig hasn't gotten out yet, you can bet it's hostile. Keep your eyes on the skies. Should be another bogey up there as well - I think that one is a friendly however."

He chuckled to himself.
LAM, eh?

Damon Howe, on 10 March 2012 - 09:56 PM, said:

"Flare, two o'clock high. Roughly 400 meters towards city center."

A fireworks show? I wonder what the occasion is. And why we weren’t invited.

Damon Howe, on 11 March 2012 - 08:09 PM, said:

"Contact at range. 5 enemy mechs ranging in weight class. One limping. 650m to my 12, moving slowly bearing roughly 9-0. Requesting orders."

His right hand’s grip on the stick tightened.
Alright, here we go.

He opened a comm link to Damon and James.
“Activating Ghost Targets. Stay within 600m and keep them over 600m away, they’ll have a tougher time hitting us.”

He flipped the toggle on his dashboard from earlier.

Ghost Targets: Active.

“You’ll have to give it a few seconds to set up.”

Damon Howe, on 11 March 2012 - 08:09 PM, said:

"Hostiles on foot, 150m to my 12 right side, carrying hostage."

A hostage! First the techs and now they’re taking hostages?!

His left hand’s grip on the throttle tightened.

[Charles Martel]

Charles looked over a MFD display that registered the LRM discharge. Being 1000m. up and beginning his turn at the other side of town, it wasn't cause for his alarm. As he commenced his next pass, keeping tabs on the Delian heavy lance he noticed the com static ceased right about the time he saw a Jenner standing on a building.

"Not a bright idea, one missile strike and that building would collapse under him", he thought as he keyed his comms on general frequency, "I'm glad someone brought some ECCM to this little party, that static was giving me a headache." He turned, keeping himself roughly inside ECCM coverage as well as he could guess, slowing his flight speed, "So, any plan about the dishonorable bunch of pirates currently making a rather large mess of this town?"

He made sure to maintain his 1000m. altitude, for all he knew the ECCM could have been courtesy of the Delians. He was just glad to hear something other than static over general comms, it was giving him a headache, and he didn't have the option to land and pick up some aspirin at the nearest store. Or, worse, it could be locals who recognize he's DC and just start blazing away. 1000m. was a good option, he couldn't hit them, and they couldn't hit him.

[Kevin O Resk]

[[ Thank you for the warm welcome and the fine suggestions, Mr. Azman. I have a character from my MW3 tabletop game, I just need to advance him to the MWO timeframe and figure out what the heck he's doing way out here.

As an observer, I am enjoying this quite a bit, even if I can't figure out how to integrate in just yet. ]]