406 replies to this topic

[Thom Frankfurt]

Sauel's Tea House,
Slums, International Zone,
Solaris City, Solaris VII,
April 21st, 03:13 Hours

DeMarkus thought the whole thing funny. Jack's speech even more outragous than ever getting into it with the Tea House owner's son? But still there was no reason for there to be an ulgy end to such a good day. DeMarkus franticly thought for a way to defuse the situation, even after the old man shooed his son off to get the bill.

"Wat'sa flea? Someting like's a Locust?" DeMarkus asked genuinely confused, he never heard of it. He patted Jack who was slightly swaying on the shoulder, then approached the old man.

"Hey yo. I'ms asorry about dat. Jack's been under lots o stress lately."

[RogueSpear]

Samuel's Tea House,
Slums, International Zone,
Solaris City, Solaris VII,
April 21st, 03:15 hours,

"Pffft." Jack made a face as he handed over his share of the bill, considerably more than the rest of the group's. "Any fool who get's hisself slagged in an Urbie doesnae ken whit he's supposed to b'daein' wi' et. Ah tell yew what, mah boy. Yew gang away doon t'mah next match, or e'en t'the Rainbow Stables, an' ah'll gie y'an eyeful o' how an Urbie is s'posed to be piloted."
Stumbling out into the night, Jack attempted to discreetly fart as he waited for the rest so they could tell him how he was to get back.

[Thom Frankfurt]

Samuel's Tea House,
Slums, International Zone,
Solaris City, Solaris VII,
April 21st, 03:15 hours,

DeMarkus walked as Jack stormed off with his limping gait before turning around to reguard Voss and Samuel. He shrugged when they met his gaze.

"Sorries again. But's I's gotta say, I's awouldn't wanna face down an Atlas en a jumping Locust variant or a Urbie... I'ds atleast wanna Vindicator. You's guys have a good night." With that he turned and walked off with the rest of the group, into the night with his arm wrapped around Kaylee.

Edited by Thom Frankfurt, 17 October 2012 - 09:37 AM.

[ChaosGrinder]

Samuel's Tea House,
Slums, International Zone,
Solaris City, Solaris VII,
April 21st, 00:21

After she had her Teatime, Liz decided to buy some tea to brew a cup once in a while at home, she then made her way to the Rainbow stables, though she wanted to stay longer around in the teahouse.

Rainbow Stables
International Zone
Solaris City, Solaris VII
April 21st, 3:15

It took her a good while to get to the Rainbow Stables, but in the end she managed to find that big building and stood astonished infront of it.
"That rainbow was really ... unnecessary. " she said smiling to herself and approached the entrance. Two guards stood there, bored.

" Id-card." one of them muttered and eyeballed her.
" Errr... i have none. I ... wanted to apply here ? Would you be so kind and let me proceed ? "
"No" the guard replied and waved her of.
" Are you joking ? " she replied slightly frustrated.
" Yeah, get in. Ask at the reception, though i guess you´ll have to wait a bit, as it is ... after 3AM ", the guard said laughing, as he examined his watch.

shaking her head she went in and looked around. This was apparently the office department. Lefthand side was the reception. A girl, apparently in her mid-twenties sat at the desk, doing some usual office stuff.

"Huh ? Oh, sorry... what can i do for you ? " she asked startled but then smiled at Liz.
" I´m here to apply for the rainbow stables. Saw you flyer and thought i could drop by. "
" Sure, but i can´t do very much for you aside from handing your application to Boss, maybe he´ll referr to you laters. "
" Don´t worry, i have time"Liz answered, realizing that she smiled awkwardly seducing at the girl behind the desk. She had to admit, she looked kinda ... sweet. Raven hair and blonde highlights, tattoos and piercings.

" Errrr.... you´re ok hun ? " the girl suddently asked looking bewildered at her. Liz blushed and shook her head.
" I´m ... fine . Thanks. "
" Alllllright, i need you to fill out this paper, i´ll hand it to the boss tomorrow."
She took it and sat town at a neaby seat to fill the contract out.

Handing it back to her, she asked " Any guess how long that will take ? "
" Maybe tomorrow, maybe in 2-3 days, depends on the boss. I´ll call you if i know something. "

With that, Liz departed back to her mech hangar

Edited by ChaosGrinder, 19 October 2012 - 04:45 AM.

[guardian wolf]

Rainbow Stables Mechbay
International Zone, Solaris City
Solaris 7, Lyran Commonwealth
April 20, 19:30

Kevin waved to his buddies as they drove off. As he was looking around, and trying to act as sober as possible, he noticed the side door towards the grounds that would lead right through the hangar. A decent unlocked shortcut. He waltzed toward the door, double checked to make sure no one was looking, and then stepped inside. As he looked around the mechbay, and seeing that no one, but that bat-**** crazy Dragoon was around, he looked onto the Jagermech that the techs had been working on. It was a beautiful machine now, and he couldn't wait to see it in action. That's when a little motion out of the corner of his eye, caught his attention. It was a black clad man, with a.... is that a... A FU*KING RIFLE!!! Oh ****. He quickly looked around, and found one of the security phones. He punched in the pass-code, and then spoke quietly into the phone.

"Jim, yeah it's me, Kevin. Yeah, I know I owe your five korner, but there's no time for that-. Look, shut up and listen, there is some crazy dude on one of the scaffoldings Yes the one next to the Champion, the crazy fu*ker has a gun, get security down here, now. Yes, I'm being serious!" Kevin hissed into the talking piece as he stuck his head out to see what was going to happen.

___________________________________________________________________________________


Dylan was about to turn and see if the man was even paying attention, when two cracks rang out, a sniper rifle, and the shattering of glass that came from one of the nearby workstations. He instinctively ducked, and felt a bullet graze his back. Too close. As he turned to his new found ally, as he fell over onto Dylan, apparently hit. Dylan shoved him behind a crate and dived after him, as the guards opened fire. He checked his friend, apparently he had been in the middle of the act of sneezing, when the bullet caught him, as it had buried itself into his shoulder. Dylan sighed as he couldn't do anything here, except get whoever the **** it was that was ruining his evening, and shouted over the din to the guards.

“GET A ******** AMBULANCE NOW!!”

“What about the –“

“Just DO IT,”

Dylan drew his laser pistol, and clicked the safety off, as he advanced to the metal side door. He opened it and took a slight peek outside. He saw a figure begin to run for the gates. Dylan cursed his damnable luck, and began to sprint after the figure, after who he was sure, was her. Another guard was standing watch, and was apparently alarmed at the approaching unidentified, and a wild eyed Dragoon. He raised his rifle, and prepared to say something, when the tango drew a pistol, and shot him twice. The bullets smacked the man’s chest, and he crumpled to the ground. Dylan was so close to the assassin, if he kept going, he could catch her, him, whatever the **** it was. He couldn't leave a man down though, even if it was an unfriendly one. Dylan stopped next to him, and spoke quickly.

“Are you hurt?”

“Ahhh ****, first hit my Kevlar, but the second got my damn shoulder,”

“Then call for backup,”

“Go get em, crazy ******,”

With that he turned and sprinted again, seeing the tango still moving down the street. He gave chase, sprinting with his sidearm drawn, if only to make sure that people got out of his way. The figure however, was just trying to run through the crowd. It made a right, into the market section. Dylan followed, hot on its heels, when she began to throw things out in his way. Dylan hurdled a trashcan, and leapt over a smaller knocked over stand, when he was about to cross an intersection. The man; that much was apparent now, sprinted right through, and Dylan bulled right on after him. A car slammed on its brakes, and Dylan jumped so he would avoid the worst of the impact, and keep running. He heard a loud curse from the driver as he rolled off of the hood. The man had some more distance now, but Dylan kept on pursuing. Then he pulled a move as he ran down an alley. He jumped to the top of a dumpster, and then leapt to a nearby fire escape. The latch for it came off, and the ladder slid down jerking the man, but the crazy ****** kept climbing. Dylan holstered his pistol and immediately hopped up onto the ladder after him. He took the rungs two at a time so he could reach the platforms, and the assassin was already at the second one, when he finally got onto the first. Dylan began to run up the platforms when the man he was chasing, pulled out his sidearm, and began to shoot downward as he ran. Dylan flinched as the bullets whizzed past him, but managed to keep running. He had gotten up to the fourth and final level, the one that lead to the roof. The roof was littered with different items, from AC units and heaters, to an actual dish for apparently their holovids. Dylan took his pistol back out of its holster, and flipped the safety off. He began to move slowly through the area, always listening for movement, and double checking his six for the assassin. He was about to cross in front of the AC unit, when he heard footsteps, and the assassin ripped past him. Dylan turned and fired a shot, but it went wild, not even getting close to the man. Dylan took off after him, adrenaline fueling his strides as he fought to catch up to him. That’s when the assassin jumped, and cleared an alley to another rooftop. Dylan spoke aloud as he followed right behind him.

“Ohhhh SHIIIIIT!”

He stepped on the edge of the building, and launched himself across the alley that separated the two buildings. He finished the leap with a somersault, trying to get up and sprint. That’s when he found the crazy ******* at the edge of the roof, just standing there. Dylan raised his pistol.

“FREEZE MOTHERFU*KER!!”

The man began to laugh, first it was quiet and small, but then became louder, until it was almost hysterical. He turned towards Dylan, and he was wearing a mask, black, with a red line across the left eye. His laughter stopped as finally meet Dylan’s eyes. Dylan could have sworn he was smiling.

“Or what Dragoon? You’re going to kill me? Hardly. You see, I am the not the first you have encountered, but I will be the last, and the rest of your stable will follow you,”

"What?"

That was when he flicked his wrist, and Dylan instinctively fired. The man tumbled back, but, as Dylan watched him finish, he fell with a sort of grace. It seemed like he was relaxed, his body making a t of a sort. He smashed into a small pile of garbage, then got up and left.

That’s when Dylan began to notice the pain in his ribs. He looked down, and noticed a small throwing dagger protruding from his rib cage. Dylan sucked in air, so that he wouldn't cry out in pain, as he withdrew it. That had been close from hitting his vitals, something he could thank the makers of his jacket for. The wound was still large enough to demand attention though, so Dylan ripped off a piece of his shirt to address the wound. Dylan then looked about for an exit, and then realized, due to his damnable navigating skills on foot, he was ******* lost again. He sighed, and climbed down the nearest fire escape. Once there, searched for the nearest street, and hailed a taxi. Perfect, I am sure that Von Bremen will pleased to hear about this, or that crazy ***** Erin… she will be just excited to hear about this… fu*king luck anyhow. Dylan mulled over the info he had gathered, and pretty much came up with the conclusion that with all the ISF, and whoever that was, that Rainbow wasn't telling the mechwarriors everything. Dylan was certainly in over his head, that much he was sure. He sighed as he got out of the car at the front of Rainbow Stables. An ambulance was now parked in front of the gate, as the med techs worked on doing what they could for the two patients they had. They first picked up Dylan's Capellan friend, and the guard was then put in right behind him. The med tech stopped to look at Dylan, and noticed the dark spot on his shirt. He waved over Dylan, and then yelled out.

"You hurt buddy?"

"A little, want to have a look?"

The tech just nodded, and motioned for Dylan to sit down. As he removed Dylan's shirt, and makeshift bandage, he could hear the disdain in the man's voice.

"Got into another barfight did we?"

"Something like that,"

Dylan paused before he spoke again. The med tech was nearly finished with a newer, more proper bandage.

"How is the Capellan?"

"He'll live, ****** his shoulder up though, have to be in the hospital for a small time,"

Dylan breathed a sigh of relief, he did not know why, but for some reason, he felt responsible for the Capellan. Just like he was supposed to be responsible for everyone else. He had to warn them. Dylan stood as the ambulance left, and then wondered what Von Bremen would have to say about this. He sat down next to the guard post for the tech entrance, and the other guard, looked Dylan over and then spoke in a optimistic tone of voice.

"So, at least you'll have a scar for the ladies eh?"

"Sure, I guess it could be worse,"

"Now that's the way to think. Water?"

"Why not?"

The guard tossed him a bottle, and Dylan sipped as he waited, for what he didn't know.

[Thom Frankfurt]

Nearing Rainbow Stables
International Zone
Solaris City, Solaris VII
April 21st, 3:45

And to think this was a Davion's idea...

DeMarkus was in high spirits. The trip to the tea house turned out to be a great idea, the red tea warmed his belly and radiated out, soothing or atleast taking his mind off all his hurts for right now and transporting him back to August '28, Terra, in time for the marriage between Prince Hanse Davion, and Mellisa Steiner. Comstar, and the two great houses spared no expense offering every concieviable pleasure to the visiting dignitaries, well save for killing themselves.

DeMarkus smiled as Kaylee pressed herself tighter up against him as their cab, rounded a corner to turn onto Dickenson Avenue. [[Listening to Maiden \m/ ]]Jack jabbered away drunkenly, still angry about what the teaboy said about Jack's precious Taysider. Bertie sat next to Jack patting him on the shoulder reassuringly, in the front sitting next to the cab driver in his clown suit a rich purple crushed purple velvet suit, Mr. Vulpes sat stairing out into the darkness.

As the cab sped off down Dickenson Ave, Vulpes leaned forward more and more apparently focusing on something in the distance.

"Guys, troubles afoot." He offered pointed at the rapidly approaching Rainbow Stables building and the assortment of emergancy vehicles lights flashing wildly like the lights on a Canopian Cathouse. The cab screeched to a halt before the taped off area. Three police vehicles, a fire engine, ambulance, as well as that stupid armored car from the Lyran Guards was there along with a furious looking Von Bremen wearing a long robe engaged in a heated discusion with the same investigator that DeMarkus spoke with a couple of days earlier.

The motely mechwarriors of 'team one' hopped (stumbled in Jack's case) out of the cab as one and made for the crime scene. Police moved to stop them, but Kaylee's sudden hysterical wailing of "OH MY GOD MY BABY!!" distracted them long enough for them to sneak through the knot of Lyran Guards, DeMarkus caught the sight of infantrymen leading dogs about the stables mechyard searching for something. Struggling to get a better look the Capellan neared the ambulance where a medic was bandaging a man sipping on a water bottle in Dragoon fatigues. [[GW correct me if I'm wrong on what Dylan is wearing.]] While another medic was working on a man straped to a gerny groaning a name repeatedly in Cantonesse.

"Hey what's this guy saying?" the medic stuck his head out of the ambulance asking his partner.

"Do I look like a slant to you?!" the one working on the Dragoon's chest wound looked up and shouted angrily.

"He's a saying a's name." DeMarkus offered moving closer catching a curious look from the wounded Dragoon.

Edited by Thom Frankfurt, 03 November 2012 - 12:08 PM.

[Sparks Murphey]

Rainbow Stables
International Zone
Solaris City, Solaris VII
April 21st, 3:45

Bertie was through the police line the moment Kaylee started wailing about her baby. I think that’s my line, he thought grimly to himself, as he ran towards the apartments. Dammit, I knew I shouldn’t have trusted that Izzy person.

He threw the door to the dorm open and was greeted by a Gunther MP-20 SMG. Both men tensed of a moment before realising they were on the same side.

“You’re Albert Walker, right?” the guard said, lowering the weapon to a more respectful angle, “Don’t worry, she’s fine, she’s slept through the whole thing.”

“No, I’m awake,” came Heather’s sleepy voice from the next room.

The room was still dark when Bertie entered. The quilt was on the discarded to the floor, and Heather was leaning against the window sill, the flashing lights from the compound below outlining her face.

“Hey, sweetie, are you okay?” Bertie said, kneeling down next to her.

Heather shrugged. “Yeah. There were some people with rifles down there. I think someone got shot. No ‘Mechs, though,” she added with a touch of disappointment.

Bertie sighed. She really had no fear unless she was looking at a full lance of Banshees.

“Um, you know Wei-Min from Captain Zed? How she’s always hiding and sneaking around for the Justice Strikeforce?” Bertie asked.

Heather nodded.

“Well, I need you to be like Wei-Min. If there’s some action that starts happening, you find someplace to hide and listen from where they can’t find you.”

She frowned. “I was, Dad. I was watching from up here.”

“But what if someone had come in? You’d have been right by the window.”

“The guard was protecting me.”

Bertie leant forward and kissed her on the forehead. “Okay. But you should get back to bed,” he said, drawing the curtains to block out some of the light.

He started the walk back to his own dorm, nodding at the guard as he passed. Who was responsible for the attack? Had Johnston Industries found them? Would they really have been able to mobilise a team so quickly? No, it had to be something else. Maybe they were after DeMarkus or Mad Jack. Or maybe it was just another rival stable; he’d heard things could get pretty rough on Solaris, though he hadn’t figured it would be this bad. That SMG the guard had was some pretty serious hardware, though; maybe Rainbow had stepped on some important toes.

There was a note sticky taped to his door when he got there. Frowning, he pulled it down and read it.

Bertie,
April 21st, 1500. Pizarro Raceway, Gate G. 8 medium free-for-all. Be there.
-Erin

Oh, come on, he thought, scrunching the note up.

[guardian wolf]

Rainbow Stables Front Gate
International Zone
Solaris City, Solaris VII
April 21st, 3:50

Dylan looked up to find the Cappellan, along with the rest of "Team 1" with him. There was a small commotion from inside the ambulance, namely another tech was arguing with the tech that had just patched Dylan up. Dylan walked over to the ambulance, wincing a slight amount due to the pain in his gut, but brought himself under control. The only thing that would have visually cued in someone else was his hand twitched, and his eyes blinked, as his face made a minute contortion. The man was indeed speaking, a name, it was calling out to Dylan. Dylan got into the ambulance and sat next to the guard.

"What is it friend?"

"I thought I saw someone, slinking about by the gate earlier, but, I thought was just another street urchin. Dylan, I think someone else helped get this guy in,"

"Thank you for the information, Mr...."

"Call me Phil, sir, it's my job to know you guys' names, and to protect you, but apparently I fu*ked this one up,"

"You did fine, just hang in there, and you will be okay,"

Dylan patted the man's good shoulder, and then, walked out the back of the ambulance. He looked at the Cappellan, and then held out his right hand, which still had a small amount of blood on it from earlier. Needed to get that cleaned off.

"My name is Dylan Wolf, we have not really met formally before. I kinda have a theory behind most of the goings on here. We need to talk,"

[Thom Frankfurt]

Rainbow Stables Front Gate
International Zone
Solaris City, Solaris VII
April 21st, 3:50

The wounded man groaning out the name McCormack (I know, not really Chinese sounding but it was his (Foxy's) battalion's CO) in Cantonese sapped whatever remaining strength that DeMarkus had. He felt weak, like the weight of the whole world, no scratch that, the whole weight of Tikonov came pressing down on him grinding D into the rain-slick ferrocrete. DeMarkus knew of a McCormack that served in the CCAF from his time serving as the XO of Straplen's Iron Hand defending Tikonov.

In the Tikonov Free Republic it was whispered among the more 'loyal' of the Confederation troops that a certain Major Vincent McCormack's betrayal and deception led to the utter destruction of the rest of his 'unit' as the major's battalion turned coat and joined up the the 5th Crusis Lancer attackers. Could this person be refuring to the same person? He paused admist his paranoid thoughts about similar turncoats in his own unit. It was possible considering the jamming, and lack of other warriors when he called for reinforcements to hold off the final Davion assault on Tiknograd. The thought made him sick. Suddenly the Dragoon sat upright and hopped into the ambulance and DeMarkus took his place leaning heavily against the 'meat wagon' barely noticing Jack and Vulpes stumbling/slinkering respectfullty through the guards and policemen, heading for the dorms no doubt.

Looking about, the Capellan noticed a lack of Bertie. And over by the barricade, a neigh hysterical Kaylee was tying up five SCPD cops. They met eyes and suddenly she stopped her theatrics and winked at him retreating a respectful distance away to smile smugly.

Coming out of the ambulance, the Dragoon near bumped into DeMarkus. Recovering quickly, the Dragoon held out a bloodstained hand to D.

Aren't all our hands bloody? Frankfurt thought bitterly to himself before reaching for the hand.

"My name is Dylan Wolf, we have not really met formally before. I kinda have a theory behind most of the goings on here. We need to talk," The Dragoon said by way of greeting. Summoning up strength that he didn't feel like he had, DeMarkus pumped the mercenary's hand once firmly before retorting.

"No Sh*t." The Capellan's eyes caught movement over Dylan's shoulder and caught sight of a fumming Von Bremen storming their way. "Von Bremen, five o'clock." DeMarkus added pumping the Dragoon's hand again as the normally immaculately dressed PR man neared clad in an over priced bathrobe and obliously struggling to contain his range.

"Dylan, I pray you're not hurt gravely." The neigh tow-headed Lyran grabbed Dylan's arm while pasting on a well rehearsed plastic smile. "DeMarkus..." The spook nodded to the Capellan and added with his crysal blue eyes drifting in the direction of the dorm building. An unspoken order perhaps?

With a shrug DeMarkus turned to go but he stopped before going, turning to look back at Wolf. "We'll talk later, Dragoon." With that he began heading away stopping a few feet from them to seek out Kaylee leaning back against the hated powder blue APC.

"Yo, Kay!!" He waved her over and the Lyran cops let her through and together they headed on up to the dormroom in silence, both deep in thought.

[guardian wolf]

Rainbow Stables Front Gate
International Zone
Solaris City, Solaris VII
April 21st, 3:54

Von Bremen five o'clock

Great, here comes the asschewing Dylan thought. Dylan watched as he clasped hands with the Cappellan, and then apparently motioned that he should leave. Dylan sighed, here it comes. As soon as the Cappellan left, Von Bremen turned, and grabbed Dylan's shoulder, in a mocking friendly gesture. One of the guards whispered to a buddy nearby, Dylan didn't catch what he said.

"Come with me Dylan, we need to talk,"

Dylan half walked, and was half dragged towards a secluded spot in the hangar. Once there, Von Bremen let go of Dylan's shoulders, and then shoved him into a stack of crates. Dylan smashed into the stack, hand over his gut so as not to reopen the wound he had already received. He staggered to his feet, only to have Von Bremen send a hook into Dylan's face. Dylan once again fell down, this time landing on his rear. Dylan stood quickly this time, and when Von Bremen sent another hook, Dylan was ready. He held up his left arm, stopping the hook, and then returned with a punch from his left arm. It connected with Von Bremen's nose, causing him to stagger back. Dylan was pretty sure he broke his nose, so he stood, and spoke quietly.

"So, are we going to talk now?"

"Yes" he stood and rebroke his nose back into position "Now, why the hell must you be a pain in my side Dragoon?"

"Because apparently my luck has me catching the assassin's sent by either you or others in the act of trying to kill us,"

"You can rest assured, they weren't sent by me, I wouldn't want miss the opportunity to kill you myself,"

"So why the hell did you start hitting me,"

"Seemed like a good idea at the time,"

"So trying to beat your mech pilot to death is a good idea,"

"To be fair, you have made my life hell with all these damnable assassin's you seem to attract,"

"So you believe me?"

"After tonight, yes, I do unfortunately,"

Von Bremen then looked over Dylan. He then saw the bandage over his chest. Dylan took out the throwing dagger that had stabbed him.

"This was the weapon on the *******, well, the one he left inside my rib cage,"

"I'll see what I can get out of this, you get some rest, you have a mech fight to be at tomorrow,"

Dylan nodded, then passed the dagger over to Von Bremen. With that he began to walk back to the dorms.

[Nor Azman]

Tower Motel
Slums, International zone
Solaris City, Solaris VII
April 21st, 1316 hours.

Christina woke up with a hangover. The pounding in her head felt like an entire platoon of PBIs was conducting field exercises on her brain. Though the window blinds to her room were drawn close, vile sunlight managed to passed through, burning her eyelids to wakefulness. The annoying clamour of bustle outside, told Christina that a new day had come. Christina felt like puking.

Reluctantly, very reluctantly, Christina sat up on her bed. She nursed her right shoulder, still hurting since her fall from the second story of an apartment building during her fight with a psychotic serial killer almost two weeks ago. And the events that happened to her since… Christina pushed those thoughts away. It was too early in the morning for that. She glanced at the digital clock near her bed. It was past afternoon. Fak. Christina got to her feet. All the bumps and bruises, sore muscles and aching joints hammered Christina at once. The tired woman sat back on the edge of her bed. Immediately, gritting her teeth, Christina got back to her feet again. She had work to do. All she had was work. If she was left on her own, with only her thoughts for company…. Christina looked at the empty bottle of scotch lying on the floor…. She knew the slide down was easy and quick. Christina shook herself. She needed to keep busy.

Christina got dressed. She put on dark sunglasses to hide her bruised eye. As Christina was leaving, she noticed her old black bowler hat left on the floor. For a long moment Christina looked at the old keepsake. Then she glanced at the empty scotch bottle nearby. It was a choice between the two.

I am still me. Whatever shlt happens to me, I am still myself.

Christina picked up the bowler hat and left the motel room.



Samuel's Tea House,
Slums, International Zone,
Solaris City, Solaris VII,
April 21st, 1440 HRS

It may come as peculiar to a passerby to come across a tea house in the middle of the slums of the International Zone. Such walkway sights being more associated with House Kurita’s district of Kobe or House Liao’s district of Cathay. However was it that surprising, that in the midst of poverty, spaces of relative peace would spring out here and there to offer respite for weary urban inhabitants of the slums? And here Christina found herself in mid afternoon, in front of an oasis of sorts, at the door of Samuel’s Tea House. A black cat was cleaning itself, licking its fur coat. It stopped its self grooming and watched Christina with pale yellow eyes. Christina thought the cat looked familiar…

Don’t worry. I know what I’m doing.

Christina entered the tea house.

It was low peak in Samuel’s establishment. There were no customers in. Christina took it as a good a good sign. The tea house was small but well kept. It had wooden tables and chairs set about and on each table some flowers were arranged simply on a small oriental vase. Christina wasn’t sure if they were arranged in the chinese or japanese style, but flowers were always nice. The tea house smelled nice too with the scent of herbs and tea leaves.

Further ahead was a counter where Christina noticed Samuel stood behind, a bent old man with wisp of white hair and well maintained moustache but who had deep piercing eyes – just a proprietor of a tea house in the slums and for those in the know, a merchant of information.

Christina sat at the counter.

“The rain outside is getting worse.” Christina commented. It was a bright and sunny day.

“More so, more so, if you have ears to listen and eyes to see.” Samuel shrugged, wiping clean one of his cups.

“There are rats everywhere.”

“Not in my house.” Samuel replied firmly, coming over to Christina and giving her an inspecting look.

The moment stretched on, uncomfortably. Christina had the sinking feeling that she may need to rush for the tea spoon near at hand. Though Samuel carried the face of a wizened old man, his eyes told of a dangerous soul that had only sharpened through time. Christina knew she was in a bad defensive position sitting as she was now. The tea spoon near at hand would be her only split second option…

Samuel finally nodded to himself. “You’re late.” He said.

“I was held up.”

Inwardly Christina sighed with relief, the sense of being in a dangerous situation was gone. Had Samuel judged differently, Christina knew things would have gotten very ugly very quickly.

Samuel showed his hands open, showing he meant no harm, and reached out, slowly removing the sunglasses Christina was wearing. Again the wizened old man gave Christina an inspecting look, this time at her bruised face.

“You’re still late.” The man said gruffly. “Wait here. I’ll get your tea.” Samuel went to the back.

Perhaps one of the pleasures of drinking tea was the anticipation of drinking tea, to quietly wait as the drink was being prepared. Christina had nothing to do but wait, her thoughts started to drift to places outside the tea house.

“Here’s your drink.” Samuel returned with a tray in hand. The old man set it down for Christina. Beside a freshly brewed cup of tea was an unmarked brown envelope.

“Thanks.” Christina slipped the envelope inside her jacket, then took a sip of tea.

Her eyes widen. “Kaifeng?”

The old man scoffed at Christina’s surprise. “Samuel’s Tea House only serve the best.” He said with pride.

Christina took another sip, enjoying the exquisite taste.

“There might be a problem.” Christina began, all serious. “There is an unidentified operative or operatives present, affiliation unknown, picking off listed names.”

“They are not my concern.” Samuel spoke in voice that told he would speak no more on the matter.

Christina stressed, “I cannot do my job if I do not know who are all the players involved.”

Samuel’s face was unreadable, but Christina could tell the old man was weighing his options, in the sharing of information. Christina had the sense that Samuel chose carefully what to share and to whom when it comes to information.

“You put me in an uncomfortable position young miss. Dylan Wolf. That is all I can say. That will set you on your path.”

Suddenly Samuel cracked a smile as if remembering something funny, “Speaking of listed names, here’s one on the house. Just only yesterday in fact, a group of them simply walked in to this very establishment. In broad daylight, unescorted and stayed all into the night. Like there was nothing to be afraid of.”

The bent old man shook his head and chuckled at a cosmic joke he alone understood. “Ah, if ignorance is bliss then those with knowledge… well, maybe that’s why I drink tea all the time. It calms the nerves, you see.”

Christina smiled politely trying to picture the scene here yesterday. She took a sip of her tea. Fortune must have been kind if nothing happened. Or are all the vested parties waiting for the next move? A tempest brewing in a tea cup. Christina took another sip. Dylan Wolf. Christina etched the name to memory.

Christina glanced about the tea house, noticing something. “I don’t see him here.”

Samuel shrugged. “I sent him on an errand.”

Christina raised an eyebrow. “You are supposed to keep an eye on him. You do know how important he is.”

“That my young miss is an understatement. You have read his profile of course. He can take care of himself.” Samuel waved his hand dismissively. “Now I believe our business is at an end.” It was a statement not a question.

Christina didn’t have to be told twice that it was her que to go. “You will keep an eye on him. He is… interesting.”

Samuel gave a look as if to infer any hidden meaning.

“I meant his profile is interesting.”

Christina finished her tea and gave her thanks and headed for the door.

“Out of curiosity young miss.” Samuel called out, already back to wiping clean his cups. “What will you be up to? Humour an old man.”

Christina turned. “What all mech jocks come to Solaris City to do. Fight in matches. Join a stable.”

Christina left Samuel’s Tea House. For the first time all day she felt like smiling.

Edited by Nor Azman, 20 November 2012 - 03:35 PM.

[guardian wolf]

Somewhere on Solaris
???????
???????
At night

He couldn't stop them. There had been too many. The streets were burning. Dylan ran down a side alley as he watched another medium tear down the street behind him, destroying all in its path. Then a PPC flash out ahead of him, and a Dire Wolf stopped in the alley way. The symbol of Clan Jade Falcon blazed on its cockpit, and the speakers turned on.

"End of the line Wolf,"

Rainbow Stables Team 2 Dorms
International Zone
Solaris City, Solaris VII
April 21st, 7:45

Dylan awoke with a start, at first jerking up into consciousness, then immediately back down as he clutched his burning rib cage. He was sucking in air so fast he started to hack and cough a little. He immediately cleared his head, and tried to calm himself. Slowly his heart rate came back down, and his head cleared. He then sat on the edge of his bed, and looked around the room.

His roommate, either gone, dead, or a strange sleeper, he hadn't seen. Dylan shook his head, and then put on his T-shirt, followed by a pair of workout shorts. He had to keep in shape, or else he was dead. Healthy body, brings a healthy mind. He opened the door and jogged down to the rec room.

First he went on the tread mill for several minutes then went to the bench press. His ribcage burned as he breathed in and out with the tempo of each press. Finally, when his arms were dead, he went over to a nearby punching bag. Strapping on the gloves, he started with several jabs, and went into a series of upper cuts, followed by hooks. He repeated this process, throwing in a kick every now and then, and finished by grabbing the bag, and holding it while he drove his knees into it like he was smashing someone's face. His arms were dead tired by that point, and so he grabbed a towel and began to walk toward the showers. Washing himself quickly and efficiently, he walked back to his room, and changed into his normal outfit.

Once done, he slipped on his jacket, and headed down to the dorms' cafeteria, which was serving eggs, pork, and something called hash browns. Dylan decided to get a plate of the hash browns (something they apparently did with potatoes) and grabbed some cereal and milk. He hoped to catch DeMarkus here, so that they could talk for a little bit, and then, he would have to go to the proving grounds and practice, as he had a match tomorrow. He hoped DeMarkus would listen.

[Thom Frankfurt]

Rainbow Stables Team One dorm
International Zone
Solaris City, Solaris VII
April 21st, 3:55

Wearily DeMarkus plopped down upon the bed with a groan. The night started out high spirited, but ended on a sour note. With a shooting at the stable building, Von Bremen angry and nearly at the breaking point, and reminders of Tikonov and the reminder of Major Vincent McCormack's betrayal.

Kaylee was there with him, looking on with a look of concern. He motioned her over to aid him in taking his shirt off. Wincing as the fabric was pulled free he immediately checked his bandage finding it securely taped to his ribcage. Then grimacing he looked up at Kay who stood a meter away holding his shirt loosely in her hands, a shocked look on her face.

D cocked his head to the side looking at her curiously. "What?" She pointed at him. "Oh my Gawd, Mar... Your bruises." Wincing, he got up and looked at himself in the mirrior. Blueish black lines mared his white flesh, bruises from where One-Eye's restraining straps bit in when he engaged Min's Panther. Turning to the side he got a good look at the bandage which was still a stark white except for an discolored section in the middle where the wounds fluid leaked onto the linen.
"Do they hurt?" She inquired, concern dripping from her voice.

"I's ahad worse." He turned to pointout the crisscrossing roadmap of scar tissue on his left shoulder. "Dat beings said, Min's da best pilot I's ever faced." He turned away from the mirrior and headed on back to the bed.

"You's gonna stand der staring at's me all's night, or you's gonna join me?" He patted the open section of the bed next to him.
Wordlessly she sat down beside him. She opened her mouth then closed it.

"You's agonna tell me's wat's been buggin you's all night?" He asked settling his head down upon the pillow.

"I'm... sorry. For doubting... you." She croaked out. DeMarkus waved her apology away. "You's akeep doubting me an I'lls akeep proving you's awrong. I'ds rather you's be supportive from now on. But we's a talk of dis later. Let's rest, we's got a long day of going over da mechs an figuring out what we'lls can do wit dem." Kaylee nodded then curled up with him. They were both out within minutes.

[Sparks Murphey]

Rainbow Stables Mechspace
International Zone
Solaris City, Solaris VII
April 21st, 13:25 Hours

Heather swung her feet from the gantry, content as ever watching the techs climbing over the big machines below. Across the bay, sparks flew as techs cut the twisted remains of a Commando’s arm from its mountings. Two techs were also examining the JagerMech, but they weren’t doing very much with it, so Heather didn’t pay much attention to them, especially as her father’s Enforcer, just a few metres away was crawling with techs making last minute adjustments to the machine.

“Hello, Heather,” said an unfamiliar voice behind her. Heather twisted to look behind her. A sharp-faced woman in a business suit. There was a sense of predatory grace about her, and Heather realised who she was looking at.

“Are you the bint?” she asked.

The woman smirked, “Now where did you hear that?”

Heather shrugged. “Jack says there’s a bint who runs this place.”

The woman crouched down next to her. “Well, next time you see him, tell Jack the bint says hi. And how about you? Are you settling in well here?”

It seemed an odd question to Heather. What was so special about here? This place would be replaced by another just as soon as her Dad’s job here was complete. She wasn’t sure what to say, so she just nodded.

“Last night didn’t worry you at all?”

Heather shook her head. “No. Is the person who got shot okay?”

“He’ll be fine, dear,” the bint said, standing a looking over the railing. “Mr Walker,” she shouted. After a moment, Heather’s Dad appeared from behind one of the Enforcer’s legs, slight irritation on his face. “I take it you haven’t forgotten about your match today?”

Bertie flicked a thumb at the BattleMech and it’s numerous attendants. “You think we’re doing this for the fun of it?”

“You certainly look industrious, but you’ve got barely more than an hour to get to Pizarro Raceway,” the woman smiled, “Unless you want to exercise your veto.”

Bertie glowered, and Heather decided the bint might not actually be very nice after all.

“Fine,” Bertie said, turning to the tech crew, “Alright, let’s get it on the hauler.”

Soon, the Enforcer, proud in it’s dark red paint, was secured on the ‘Mechhauler, and they drove off. Heather stayed watching the crew working on the Commando for a bit, but they seemed to have stopped doing anything interesting, so she went inside to see if there were any ‘Mechs on the vid.

[guardian wolf]

Rainbow Stables Mechbay
International Zone
Solaris City, Solaris VII
April 21st, 9:00

Dylan walked along the mechs, noticing the techs were busier than ants as usual. He walked up to his Flea, and climbed the ladder up the cockpit. Once there, he reached for his neurohelmet, put it on, and plugged it into the console. He started flipping switches, and the reactor started. The monotone voice went through it's series of checks. Reactor online, Weapons Online, Radar Online, All systems nominal. Once all the systems checked out, Dylan brought his Flea out to a small stroll, heading for the entrance to the mech tunnels. The nearby tech cleared the door for him, and Dylan continued on course. The drive was uneventful, something Dylan thanked god for. Most of his people back on the home worlds were atheists and would scoff at his beliefs, but for some reason, Dylan couldn't help but shake that they had survived because someone wanted them to. They could have easily died off ages ago, but instead, they survived, and prospered. Dylan couldn't believe any other reason, so he had taken up the old Terra faith of Christianity. He chuckled at himself for letting his thoughts drift to the past, and then focused on the now. Fire and move, strike like lightning, be as fluid in your maneuvers as smoke. To stand still was to die. He stopped his mech just inside the proving grounds, which seemed to be empty. He flexed his hands, relaxing them, and then, let them fall to the controls. His eyes closed as he cleared his head of all thoughts. When they opened, they weren't the same person's. He was no longer was Dylan, he was a warrior. He had no emotion, no fear. He slammed the throttle to full, and the Flea responded by taking off at a full sprint, reaching near 100 kph. He shot across the proving grounds, his cockpit shaking back and forth as the legs, like pistons, drove his mech across the dirt. Seeing a pile of rubble, he veered towards it, and timing his movements, leaped up and over it. He then began a series of tight turns, weaving in and out of tighter and tighter turns. Finally he spotted some more rubble and practiced keeping his targeting on these pieces of rubble. Then he slammed the throttle to zero. The battlemech responded, by stopping its legs, and slid across the dirt. It was a tough maneuver, and Dylan felt his balance go awkward as he leaned subconsciously to keep from falling over, while keeping his reticule as close to the piece of rubble as possible. He slid for what seemed like eternity, but couldn't have been more than ten seconds. Finally his mech slowed to a stop, and Dylan checked all systems. It was green across the board, and then he checked the targeting. It was to the right. Dammit. Two years ago he would have nailed the target every time in a Fire Moth. He normally wasn't a light pilot, but something that he always enjoyed was the speed of the fastest mechs he could grab. He cycled his weapons array and began to sync fire his small lasers, one firing simultaneously after the other. Bring his throttle up to half, he once again tried to keep the targeting on the piece of rubble, using the beams to guide it in sight by eye. Soon he eased it up to 3/4, adjusted for the speed difference, and then brought it to full. He was circling around the piece of rubble now, delivering an unending blows from his small lasers. Satisfied that he managed to keep the reticule reasonably close to the target while changing speeds, and easily adjusting when he leveled out the speed, he let go of the trigger. The lasers ceased their firing, the cockpit feeling like a cooker, and Dylan brought his Flea to a slower stop this time. He checked the time it had been a little over an hour. Bringing his Flea to a slow jog, he went back to the mech Hangar. He had some ideas to run by the tech to try out for the Flea after his next fight. Tomorrow. He had to prove that he was not just some lucky jock to Solaris, and worth the colors of the Dragoons. He parked the Flea in its gantry, and realized that he had to make his report to the Kommando. Crazy as it sounded, but he'd also have some explaining to do. He set his helmet down inside the cockpit, and climbed out, smelling the air. Catching a whiff of coolant, among other things, he waved at the tech, who was now taking the machine through it's down time maintenance checks. Dylan slid down the edge of the ladder, and landed on the ferocrete floor with a thud. Walking outside he quickly pulled up his communicator and selected the contact labelled only 7. Quickly he heard someone answer.

"Where,"

"Are Vee One Four Seven Zero (RV1470)"

"Done"

The code he had given was three things in total. An ID, RV 7, hour to meet, 1400, and where, location 0. That meant he was headed to that small time tea house. They never met inside though, it's where the meeting would start, ID's would be confirmed, and then they would proceed to the real meeting place. Information was only passed by word of mouth, and many agents in the 7th Kommado had been trained to have photographic memory. He headed out to Samuel's and prayed that for once, he'd have a little peace.

Edited by guardian wolf, 14 March 2013 - 05:52 AM.

[RogueSpear]

Rainbow Stables Front Gate,
International Zone,
Solaris City, Solaris VII,
April 21st, 3:48,

Jack stumbled through the crowds with Vulpes, turning up the collar of his jacket and trying to keep his head down to hide his face. His eyes darted across the scene, throwing blurred snapshots to his attention. More police than he could shake a stick at, even if he had one.
He grasped Vulpes' shoulder, and spent a moment in silence wishing for a stick. He began breathing deeply through his nose with his eyes closed as the world swirled maddeningly around him. He locked onto the feeling of solidity in his fingers holding onto Vulpes, exhaling firmly through his mouth. Soon he was huffing and puffing like a nursery rhyme wolf and a moment later, twice as fiercely. His eyes snapped open as he pulled, feeling the alcohol haze coursing through his body like it was floating and latching onto it, reeling it in and forcing it together piece by piece in shards of ice until it was a corded, crystalline network of booze and fury running the length of his skeleton.
He loosed a final, calmer breath and opened his eyes. Vulpes was looking at him with a worried look on his face.
"You alright, Jack?"
He realized that this wasn't the first time Vulpes had spoken to him and tried to nod reassuringly. "Aye lad, just soberin' up. Awa' ye go, ah'm gonnae catch up tae DeMarkus." He patted his new lance mate on the shoulder he'd gripped so tightly and began weaving through the crowd towards Kaylee. The pretty tech was leaning against the Lyran Guard APC and he had to steel himself to approach it, reminding himself that no one would be looking for Hans James von Bracken Steiner any more.
"So wha's goin' on?" He grunted, slumping against the car beside her. He nodded sleepily as she told him there'd been a shooting and made a show of thanking one of the guards for his help before returning to the conversation. Smiling faux-drunkenly, he pushed off from the Guard vehicle. "Ah'm fer the off Kaylee, if ye don't mind. DeMarkus should be back soon and ah'm whacked."
"You would be," She replied, wrinkling her nose. "You drank enough. Go to bed, Jack."
He nodded happily and stumbled off and into the mech hangar. Kneeling just inside the door he listened to Von Bremen beat the 'Dragoon'. While he waited, he checked the sidearm he'd pocketed from the Guard he'd thanked. A laser weapon. He made a face. Real guns have recoil. He closed his eyes, focusing on his breathing and staying sober. The crystal in his blood simmered haze through his limbs and he couldn't help but sway slightly and pray that the two men would finish soon.
"This was the weapon on the b*stard, well, the one he left inside my rib cage."
"I'll see what I can get from this, you get some rest. You have a mech fight to be at tomorrow."
Jack rolled his eyes. Did normal people really talk like this?
He waited until 'Dragoon' left and was about to approach when he heard Von Bremen speak again. "You can come out now Jack."
Jack rose slowly, balancing himself for a sudden fight as he stepped into the open space of the hangar. "Ye're better than ye look."
Von Bremen stood negligently in the center of the bay, idly fiddling with a bloody throwing knife. His suit was unruffled, despite his fight with 'Dragoon'. He pinched the pommel of the blade lightly between his thumb and forefinger. "Do you plan to kill me, Jack?"
Jack shrugged, "Don't plan tae. But ah'll no be battered about either. Wha's with the little show? Doesnae seem yer style."
Von Bremen's face wrinkled in disgust. "Giving the fools what they expect is a deception I would have thought even you could understand." He spread his arms in exasperation. "There are assassins out to take down this stable and that ***** thought I would be angry at him! That blasted fool even thought I was going to trace this knife! A knife! As if there aren't a million like it in every world in the Sphere and beyond. I am surrounded by madmen and imbeciles." He pointed the blade at Jack. "A luxury I can no longer afford, Mr. Churchill. It does not suit my mood."
Jack raised the pistol and began to take a step to the side -
Von Bremen ducked low sidestepping, arm coiling, the blade shooting out faster than Jack could move to track the Lyran agent. The pistol was torn from his grasp like it had been hit by a lance, bending back his fingers so hard they cracked. Like lightning Von Bremn came in under his grasp, deft movements hitting him like spears in the belly, neck, elbow. A long, impossibly thin knife pricked his throat as his world whirled and he fought the urge to vomit. Von Bremen's words hissed in his ear as the slight man held him utterly immobile.
"You will behave, Mister Churchill. You will not act in a manner not altogether conducive to this endeavour. You will work for me and me alone. Do you know why, Mister Churchill?" Abruptly Jack fell to the ground, rolling in a daze and scrabbling for his weapon. "Because you are a pirate and not wholly incompetent. You have a certain raw..." Von Bremen's fingers made clawing motions as he tried to find the right word, "Ability. And you wish to make money." He eyed Jack as the fat warrior forced himself clumsily to his knees. "You will aid me Mr. Churchill. There is not one person on this planet who would think you would work for me willingly. You will act as you always do and do the missions I give you. You will assist in dealing with these assassins and you will win fame and glory for this stable. In turn I will make you very, very rich."
Jack spat a gobbet of phlegm to the floor and wiped his head with the back of a hand, still reeling to find his balance. "Oh ye will, will ye?"
"I will. But if you cross me, I will kill you."
Jack lipped his lips and fought the urge to vomit again. Breathing through his mouth, he gasped "And ye will if ah say no ah assume."
"No. A man like you will not work for a threat. I do however mean, very rich, Mr. Churchill.
"An' will ye teach me t'fight like tha'?"
Von Bremen snorted derisively. "Lose a hundred or so pounds. You have a match tomorrow Jack. A sixteen mech free for all in one of the actual arenas. We secured the spot after The Hangman's game, but as his mech is in need of repairs, that leaves you as our only tested light mech pilot. The details are on the board in your quarters. You will not lose Jack. Be very sure of that. Your reward will be...fitting."
The Lyran turned and walked from the hangar, his heels clicking on the bay floor as Jack finally fell to his knees and allowed Samuel's fine whiskey leave by the same entrance it came in.

Edited by RogueSpear, 25 April 2017 - 07:37 AM.

[kevin roshak]

OOC: For those of you not following the OOC thread, I am Kevin Kirov making my triumphant and much awaited return! I was ONLY(!) out for a bit over two weeks. -.-

Mud-pit Arena
Bracken Swamp (SW of city), Solaris VII
April 10th, 3031
20:43

Kevin had just heard reports that Karel had won his match, well fought it sounded like from the reports. He will represent us well here on Solaris, Kevin thought to himself, as he climbed into his Cronus, Bearach.

"It's been far too long old friend," muttered Kevin to himself as he saw the various bodily fluid stains across the command console and chair. For only being a few years old, this mech had seen more than most at its age, it was a suprise it had lasted this long the way Kevin abused it.

The Mud-pit was out in the swamp to the southwest of the city proper. The arena was dominated by a few hills in the middle and mud and undergrowth covered the rest of the area so the battle would be all remote viewing. I've piloted in worse conditions than these Kevin thought out loud I wonder how good this Yang Guo Wei and his Screaming Hawk are, he continued. 3 and 1 is no easy feat, not even in level 4, the mid range level of arena combat. Kevin knew his mech would be out ranged, as Yang Guo Wei's Screaming Hawk had a PPC and a LRM 5. If I can stay under the minimum range of those weapons I should be set, Kevin decided.

(OOC: this was my mechtek match up from last night; literally lasted 7 rounds; best way to keep fights honest for me. Slightly modified to make for a better read but more or less true to the sim)

At 2100 the match kicked off, and the familiar sound Bearach's computer sounded off, reactor online, sensors online, weapons online ; All Systems Nominal. Kevin smiled as he took off on his jump jets landing on the lower slope of the hill, turning to face the most likely route his oppenent would come from, the east. Kevin was struggling with the dense fog and foliage so he switched to magnetic scanners and he picked up contact closer than expected. Moments after the computer began to sound a klaxon and issued the statement Warning Missiles inbound. After a quick pivot to avoid as many missles as possible 2 slammed into the left arm, shaking the mech. This was quickly followed up by a PPC bolt flying across and smashing into the left torso, throwing Kevin around in the cockpit. A laugh erupted from the comms, but Kevin kept silent, silent as the night and darkness he loved so well.

Kevin kicked up the engine to full throttle and began to climb the hill as he sent a blast from his large laser down at the Screaming Hawk, it traced a large scar into the Hawk's right arm, melting away what should be half a ton of armor, if the weapon had stayed calibrated in his four month hiatus. Maybe the techs had a quick look and check, well h3ll, I'm sure Erin made them do it, she's a handler, not a field agent, she'd go to hell if she had to run this herself. The temperature jumped more than a few degrees in the cockpit as the laser blast caused the fusion reactor to spike. Sweat began to pour down Kevin's face, his whole body really. I really need to get this sweating problem under control Kevin though, then his train of thought quickly switched, but first I'll have to survive, gotta get into the minimum range of those LRMs at least, if not the min range of the PPC.

As Kevin's Cronus ran up the hill the Screaming Hawk utilized its JJ's to have circled back around to backside of the hill, where Kevin had started. Kevin let loose once again with his LL and one of his trio of medium lasers as well as his Holly SRM4 pack. The large laser burnt a large gash across the Screaming Hawk's head but the ML went wide, as did many of the SRMs, but one was able to hit the center torso of Wei's mech. The Hawk's paper doll readout in the HUD flashed, the center torso changed from green to slightly yellow and the head went a deep red color, and he noticed the right arm was yellow from his earlier burst. Wei's mech rocked but held firm as he unleashed nearly everything at him, a bolt from it's PPC smashed into the center torso, and one of the medium lasers gashed the left arm. As Kevin's HUD flickered the incoming missile klaxon sounded again but the volley flew over his head. As the HUD regained full function after PPC short Kevin noticed his arm was red and the center torso had turned a sickly yellow. No damage to the weapons just yet Kevin thought as another wave of heat washed over him. Getting pretty hot in here, but Wei must be roasting, that was nearly everything he had and after a jump too, time to close the gap.

Wei knew this as well and began to run for cover back from where he came, but Bearach's JJ's fired and as Kevin landed ~120m away and sent a small salvo of a pair of medium lasers and the SRMs. He held off firing the LL in order to give the mech's heat sinks time to catch up. The first laser fired as the mech was a few meters from the ground, and caught the Screaming Hawk in the CT again. The second laser, this one out of the left rather than right torso fired on impact to the ground, but Bearach hit the ground harder than expected and sunk in a bit and the aim was thrown off as the beam went down and a expolsion of steam came from the ground 20 or so meters from the opponents mech. A few SRMs were able to make contact with the enemy's mech, one to each arm. The paperdoll readout of Wei's Screaming Hawk flashed and changed colors accordingly. Wei continued his attempts at dodging the the fire and tryed to cool down, conserving weapons fire to just the medium lasers. They bit into Bearach's left arm, leaving it limp at her side, but resulting in limited internal damage and no loss of effective firepower.

Wei went for a DFA style attack but it was well anticpated by Kevin activated his own JJ's and flew back 100m and landed on the lower slope on the eastern side of the hill. Bearach was heating up again so Kevin let her cool a bit, then fired his trio of medium lasers and the Holly launcher again. One medium cut across the center torso and another bit the left. The third made contact with the head once again, crumpling it as Wei ejected. The SRMs now hit harmlessly across the right torso and leg.

Kevin now pouring with sweat, began the shut-down sequence and smiled to himself. All this worry and hype for a 3 minute match, what a pity. It is really too bad he survied Kevin thought as he laughed to himself. Now to begin the 3.5 hour journey home.

Edited by kevin roshak, 15 February 2013 - 03:37 PM.

[kevin roshak]

(http://www.sarna.net/wiki/LIC
info for the Lyran Intelligence Corps)

En Route to Rainbow Stables
Solaris VII
April 10, 3031
21:32
(Slightly before time above)
Soon after the match Kevin recived a call from Erin, congratulating him, and updating him on the status of Karel's interview, which went well.

Soon after Kevin had returned to the mech-hauler to see a new group of techs and Randolf Von Bremen, another LIC and LOKI agent not unfamiliar to Kevin. Unknown to Kevin, after their collective blunder in the FRR, Randolf had unoffically left the ideals of LOKI behind, and joined on, in secret to the Heimdall, the LIC's unoffical saftey valve, no doubt here to stop the plans Erin, and by extension Kevin, has for the Rainbow Stables and a new war, in which the Lyran people would be the de-facto leaders of the Inner Sphere. Randolf smiled as he spoke, "Congratulations on your win Kevin, you have always been a better mechwarrior than a gatherer of intelligence, you always let others do that for you, don't you?" Bristling with anger, Kevin spat back "It is good to see you again too Randy!" They glared at each other for a while, then Randolf gestured towards a car behind them. As they settled into the car, Randolf raised the screen between the driver and passenger compartments and began to talk...

(Time in post)

"Look Kevin, we both know this could end up the same way it did in the FRR back in the 4th...Only this time, it could happen across the Sphere." Kevin angrily replied "This is what I signed up for..." his voice began to fade out from pain and sympathy. "...it's already in place, it doesn't matter if I live or not now, just make it clean." Randolf gave a deep, hearty laugh "You really think I would kill you? Let alone here and now? You never were one much for subtlety Kevin, but really? Look you remember the operations on Skye and within the FRR, this isn't the same game anymore, there are new rules in place, the game has changed, adapt man."

Kevin got out a response between sips of a Donegal single barrel malt, "Like I said, it's in place already, it would be impossible to stop this and then what?...get out of the game entirely? Like they would let us go after that?!" Kevin slammed his fist into the side table in the back of the luxury car, causing the driver to glance quickly at his rear-view mirror and quickly back to the bumpy dirt road back to the city.

Randolf was getting visibly redder by now, obviously frusterated at not getting his point across to Kevin. "Look a$*hole what I am saying is I can get us out of this game, this life. I am sure you have heard rumors of Heimdall? Well we exist and they offered me a new life if we can stop this tomfoolery. I know you still feel what I felt, I can help, if you will help me!"

Torn between nation, duty and the desire to live a life worth living, Kevin broke down and began to sob. "I...I...I guess you are right, living like this is getting to be too much" as he put down the glass quietly, all out of anger. Quickly Randolf fired off, "Good!" He hit the button to the communicator to the driver and tells him to pull over. He pulled out a laser pistol as he exits the car and quickly shoots the driver in the head. "What the he..." Kevin started. "Now you are dead," interupted Randolf. "He was already paid to have his teeth drilled to look like yours and will be burned and then he will be left here."

As they overlooked the drivers burning body the stench of burning flesh singed their noses. Kevin began to tear up, as much from the smell as the memories such smells brough back.

"Now we have much to discuss over the next few weeks, we will keep you away from the stables for a while, safely away from the eyes of Loki." Randolf said as they entered into the front of the car and continued their journey in scilence...


(OOC: The 'shocker' of Randolf being a double agent/internal affairs guy is playing off the way he has been RP'd, as he protected those causing trouble within the Rainbow camp)

Edited by kevin roshak, 17 February 2013 - 07:11 PM.

[guardian wolf]

Route to Samuel's Tea House
International Zone
Solaris City, Solaris VII
April 21st, 13:45

Dylan kept his head calm, but on a swivel as he walked the streets of Solaris City. He managed to get far enough away from the stable that he was sure he could hail a cab. Once done, he asked to be taken to Samuel's Tea house. The driver complied, and when he reached the place, he paid for the cab then left. He entered the tea house to find the old man sitting behind a counter wiping a cup. Dylan stepped to the counter as the old man spoke.

"What'll be?" He asked

"I will have what you think is best," Dylan replied

A man in the back holding a newspaper turned the page and shook it so that it was stiff and readable. That was Dylan’s cue. The old man nodded and poured Dylan a cup of tea, that smelled as good as anything Dylan had ever had before, so Dylan took a sip and was rewarded with a mixture of flavors, seemingly mixed so perfectly that one never over bared another, but you could taste them all in concert. Dylan looked over to the old man and spoke inquisitively.

“What kind of tea is this?”

“Rooibos,”

“This is very good, how much is it?”

“5 c-bills merc,” the old man almost spat the term out

Dylan nodded in acknowledgement and then left 7 c-bills on the counter. He hoped that might get the old man to hopefully soften up. He then took his cup where the man with the paper was sitting. He hoped like hell this wasn’t another set up with assassins, he had had enough of them. He subconsciously checked his new knife wound at the thought of it. He sat next to the man and noticed he was at the page with the crossword puzzle. So far so good. He only had one letter filled in for each across number. 1. C 2. A 3. R 4. G 5. R 6. E 7. E 8. N 9. L 10. E 11. F 12. T. Dylan noted that and immediately remembered it walking in. It was in front of another building just behind him. The man then finished his tea and left, complimenting the old man as he did so. Dylan waited five minutes before finishing his tea, and returning the cup to the counter. He didn’t speak on the way out. He then met the agent in the vehicle. The meeting was about to begin. Next would be the verification of IDs.

“ID?”

“RV-667109107”

“And never forget that help may come from the most unlikely of quarters,”

Dylan spoke the return phrase “And success rest upon the shoulders of those kept shadowed until the time of need,”

“Your report,”

“Multiple assassins have been hounding this stable, for whatever reasons I do not know. The problem is, that I think they are not the biggest problem we are facing. I believe that the managers are hiding something from us,”

“And what of your mission?”

“The citizens of the sphere can work together if forced to, and these seem to get along nicely. It is not as I thought originally. I need to follow up on a few leads, but, other than that, that is all I have,”

“You’ve been in the hospital,”

“Assassin attacked me in some sort of gathering called ‘Cherry’s Babies’,” the other agent looked over at Dylan in disgust, and Dylan quickly corrected himself “she attacked me on the street, and chased me into the place, I barely got away with my life. Also new assassin left a knife in my ribcage. Reported it to Stable manager Von Bremen, if that is his real name. Assailant was 6’ even, medium build, wearing a mask with a red line going across the center of his left eye piece,”

“Anything else?”

“I have a match tomorrow, do I have any cover?”

“Neg, you are currently alone until 7 decides it is necessary to bring in more agents. Which is not likely mind you,”

“Alright, nothing else to report,”

Dylan then left the vehicle without another word, and walked back up the street so he could hail a cab. He was definitely alone on this one, as Command, callsign “7”, wasn’t sending back up. He looked up and sent a small prayer up to god. He hoped he got a favorable answer this time, as if he didn’t, he might end up a little worse than just a hospital next time around.

Edited by guardian wolf, 19 February 2013 - 08:25 AM.

[Sparks Murphey]

Gate G, Pizzaro Raceway
Outskirts of Solaris City, Solaris VII
April 21st, 14:58 Hours

Most of Pizzaro Raceway’s shows were, as you might expect, races, primarily dirt bikes, rally cars, and half tracks. The “arena”, such as it was, a circuitous track 5 kilometres in length, mostly dirt, mud and hills. Of course, the odd piece of scrapped BattleMech or unexploded ordinance made those races all the more exciting for Pizzaro’s usual adrenaline junkies, so they staged the occasional ‘Mech free-for-all to spice things up.

Bertie waited impatiently as the announcer introduced the match’s warriors. He hadn’t wanted the radio broadcast in his cockpit, but the tech crew had pushed him for it, arguing that the intel you got from a live broadcast could be far more valuable than the silence. He still wasn’t entirely convinced.

“Ladies and gentlemen, please make welcome in Gate A, “Rabid” Chris White! In Gate B, fresh from her grudge match against the Duke, “Vicious” Vilma Kleczynska! In Gate C, “the Titanium Tornado”, Kieran McLaran! In Gate D, last year’s contender for the Swamp Gator Championship, Aaron “the Silent Blade” Yi! In Gate E, still fighting for his homeland, Mike “Patriot” Ekstom! In Gate F, a perennial fan favourite, Tiberia “Darkshadow” Correos! In Gate G, making his debut fight on Solaris, Albert “Firestorm” Walker!”

Bertie saluted the crowd with the right arm of his ‘Mech. He wasn’t sure if anyone could see him, but it seemed appropriate.

“And finally, in Gate H, Rei “the Obsidian Horror” Tsuji!”

Bertie cursed, glad there was no in-cockpit feed to the crowd. He remembered the match he’d listened to five days ago, when he’d first heard of Rei Tsuji and her formidable Phoenix Hawk. What kind of callsign was “the Obsidian Horror”, anyway? Hmm...and McLaran was a familiar name as well...hadn’t he helped Tsuji clean up her third kill in that match? Were they secretly working together? Wait, what gate was he in?

A klaxon sounded, the gate in front of him rumbled to the side, and the overhead light went green. Bertie pushed the Enforcer forward, still thinking over the placement of other ‘Mechs. Tsuji’s Phoenix Hawk would be the very next gate to his left, the most immediate threat if she came his way. He twisted left, and caught sight of a black and dark green machine exiting Gate H. Bertie sighted in on it with his PPC, but it was gone behind a mound of dirt before he could fire. He spun back to the right to check on Correos, catching sight of her Shadow Hawk departing to engage Ekstom. A salvo into her retreating back was tempting, but he didn’t want to draw her attention just yet. According to the radio, Vicious Vilma and Rabid White were engaged in some dramatic aerial warfare with their jumpjets.

What else did he know? That’s right. McLaran. Gate C, which would be directly opposite him. He had autocannons of some sort, didn’t he? What sort of...

Bertie’s thoughts were cut off by a pair of sharp knocks against the Enforcer’s armour, his targeting computer helpfully flagging the aggressor. A Blackjack, presumably McLaran from the position, had popped up over a hill with its jump jets and a unleashed a one-two punch with it’s AC/2s. Bertie narrowed his eyes. Oh, you wanna play that game, do you?

The Enforcer surged forward, lumbering up to it’s modest top speed of 64 km/h. Bertie counted in his head, estimating the cycle time of the Whirlwind-L autocannon, a weapon he’d faced numerous times during the Fourth Succession War. He fired his own jumpjets, rising into the air a half second before the Blackjack reappeared. Both ‘Mechs fired simultaneously. The twin AC rounds again slammed into the Enforcer, one into his leg, the other glancing of his large laser’s housing. Frustratingly, his own PPC bolt flew just left of the target.

He landed again, stumbling slightly as he misread the terrain. Bertie yanked the throttle back to neutral; if he got much closer, he’d enter effective range of the Blackjack’s mediums, and that would get messy fast. With a quick flick left and right, he checked that the other combatants were out of sight or at least otherwise engaged (to his relief, the radio reported that Vicious Vilma had finished her prey and was now fighting Tsuji) then launched back into the air.

McLaran’s Blackjack was skulking along behind a slight ridge, apparently hoping to get closer. This time, Bertie’s PPC smashed into the Blackjack’s left torso, closely followed by his large laser cutting into the remaining armour. The Blackjack twisted halfway through, blocking the beam with it’s arm, but still taking significant damage. McLaran returned fire, but both of his AC rounds flew clean past.

Bertie was just preparing to jump backwards to maintain his range on the target when a small flight of missiles arced over the field and hit the Blackjack hard. Evidently, McLaran was taken by surprise as well, because he looked completely the wrong way as an Assassin leaped over a mound, cutting into the damaged ‘Mech with it’s laser before lobbing a pair of SRMs in for good measure.

“No, you don’t,” Bertie muttered, “That’s my kill.” He triggered the PPC again, driving his heat up. His shot struck simultaneously with another SRM salvo from the Assassin, and McLaran punched out. Bertie wasn’t sure which of them would be awarded the kill, but that was a matter for the instant reply. Right now, there was an Assassin to take care of.

To be continued