406 replies to this topic

[Thom Frankfurt]

Rainbow Stables Mechyard
Freedom Theatre, Lyran Commonwealth
Solaris City, Solaris VII
April 21, 3031 3:55 Hrs

Easy Randy...

Von Bremen mentally told himself as Jack drunkenly stumbled off to either more mischief or hopefully bed. Wearily Von Bremen leaned back onto a brick red octagonal shaped shipping container container housing caseless 100mm auto cannon rounds, the same rounds that would be loaded up on Jack's Urban mech for his match. The toe headed spook winced as his robes fabric ground into the still fresh clawmarks on his back and he immediately thought of Erin.

He wasn't sure what the psycho a$$ b***h would do in after this nights events. If he had to guess she'd crack down on the techs and guards for the breach of security protocol, she may even attempt to punish them by suspending some liberties and privileges. Certainly someone would have to be disciplined, but he thought that that would be akin to opening a can of worms... He would have to do what he can to brake whatever punishments she'd be demanding. He wanted to do what he could to keep everyone happy, but how?

"Maybe rigging the emergency exits to sound a klaxon whenever they're opened."

He then looked around as the various onlookers and emergency personal slowly trickled off into the damp darkness of the Solarian night. As he watched, one of the stable guards, the one walking around the special dog trained to sniff out chemicals drew near.

"What is it, Gerald?" Von Bremen asked.

"No bombs left behind, but the intruder left a couple of casings... 308 caliber, and this, found it up on the scaffolding on the Jagermech, most like where his nest was.."

The guard then held out his hand and in it an origami swan, folded from some thick red paper.

Edited by Thom Frankfurt, 25 February 2013 - 07:54 PM.

[Sparks Murphey]

Pizzaro Raceway
Outskirts of Solaris City, Solaris VII
April 21st, 15:07 Hours

The Assassin (Aaron “The Silent Blade” Yi, according to the radio commentator) wasted no time getting to cover. The moment McLaran ejected from his Blackjack, the Assassin was jumping backwards behind a hillock, Bertie’s large laser shot just grazing the small machine.

“Looks like the Silent Blade has denied Firestorm Walker his first kill,” the radio chipped in, “and now Walker is looking around stumped for his opponent.”

“I’m not stumped, you *****,” Bertie fumed, “He’s behind that bloody hill. And just ‘cause I haven’t fought on Solaris before doesn’t make that my first kill.”

He walked the Enforcer backwards, scanning the ridgeline for evidence of the Assassin. The jumpjets tempted him: it would be easy to pop up and drop a PPC blast down on the ‘Mech. It would also make him a visible target for others, so for now he kept the machine on the ground.

When the wooden billboard advertising “Harmony Golden Ale” burst apart, Bertie was somewhat taken by surprise. At first, he assumed it was just the general chaos of battle, maybe a missed autocannon round or a stray missile. Behind the splinters, though, came Yi’s Assassin, already launching both missile racks and adding in the laser almost as an afterthought. Bertie’s Enforcer staggered under the barrage and he struggled to keep track of his opponent.

“Now the Silent Blade is all over the rookie jock, dancing around him like a boxer!” the radio crowed.

“Oh, shut up!” Bertie growled.

Yi wanted to be a boxer, huh? Bertie caught a glimpse of the Assassin as it dashed past again. He raised the PPC as if to fire it, dropped the Enforcer’s shoulder, and fired his jumpjets. The two ‘Mechs crashed together, both smashing to the hard-packed dirt in a violent collision that, mercifully, silenced the radio.

“Hold still, you little blighter,” Bertie muttered, getting his machine back on it’s feet. The Assassin attempted to do similar, but Bertie swept it’s feet out from under it with a well-placed kick. His computer announced in it’s calm, clinical voice that missiles were incoming, but it wasn’t from Yi, so he didn’t care. He jumpjetted away, giving his PPC a little range, then fired everything he had at the stationary target. One of the Assassin’s ammo bins caught under the fiery gaze of the large laser, missiles shooting from the wreck of the BattleMech like fireworks, accompanied by Yi’s ejection seat.

The missiles the computer had warned Bertie about finally arrived, splattering across the Enforcer’s upper torso. He turned, just in time for an autocannon shell the glance off the cockpit, splintering the canopy and leaving the domed head of the Enforcer ringing like a bell. As Bertie blinked his eyes, he could see the shape of Tiberia Correos’ Shadow Hawk rising over the far ridge on it’s jets.

He instinctively raised his main weapons, glancing at his displays as he did so. The Shadow Hawk, a model -2D, carried a formidable array of weapons, but it’s armor was light, half what the Enforcer carried. Well, it had been, anyway. Yi’s attack had left the Enforcer’s armour damaged, particularly on the right side, though the Shadow Hawk showed signs of being worse for wear itself. More pressing was his heat situation: he had hardly stopped firing since encountering McLaran at the start of the match, and the BattleMech’s heat sinks were overloaded.

The Shadow Hawk would have to wait. Bertie jetted backward over a hill, taking refuge from Correos while he dumped heat. The heat scale had just started to settle, though, when he felt a punch from behind, and klaxons started wailing in the cockpit. He glanced at the rear view and confirmed his fears: it was Rei Tsuji in her black and green Phoenix Hawk.

Bertie spun to the left, hoping to catch her with his large laser, but she danced the faster machine across the ground, machine guns chattering at his rear torso. Most of the shots seemed to find his already damaged right torso, and to his frustration his damage board started to light up red as 13mm rounds tore holes through the heat sinks mounted there. Bertie smiled grimly to himself as he realised Tsuji was searching for the AC/10 ammunition, which on a stock Enforcer would normally be mounted there, but on his customised one was absent. Not that it’d do him much good if he ran out of coolant.

Angling his jump jets, he attempted to spin faster, to catch the flying Phoenix Hawk that remained frustratingly just out of reach. Then, suddenly, she was gone, breaking off and jetting back behind a stack of crushed cars. Bertie fired a PPC blast at her, which blew the door off a car. He scanned around quickly, trying to find where she’d gone, when he spotted why she’d gone. Correos was charging over the hill towards him, missiles flying from its head and chest mounted missile racks.

He had just turned to face the Shadow Hawk, hoping to tear enough of it apart before it finished him, when Tsuji’s Phoenix Hawk leapt out again, both lasers cutting into the left side of his Enforcer. With a sinking feeling, he realised he’d lost. The two Hawks would finish him off, then turn on each other to decide the victor. All that remained was the how of it.

Bertie gritted his teeth. Well, dammit, he still had control over that. He wasn’t here for glory, just the money, and every second he remained in this match, more c-bills were being blasted off his Enforcer. With resignation, he reached under his seat, grabbed the ejection handle, and pulled.

[RogueSpear]

Jack's Room, Team One Dorm,
Rainbow Stables,
International Zone,
Solaris City, Solaris VII,
April 21st, 09:56,

Jack was woken to the smell of bacon and lorne after just shy of six hours of sleep. Groaning he tried to roll over away from the light that set his eyes on fire and head to pounding.
“Wake up Jack,” Said Dan brusquely, shoving the breakfast roll, dripping with butter and ketchup under the fat mechwarrior’s nose. “You’ve a match today, do you remember?”
Jack propped himself up on an elbow, hangover sweat making the sheets stick to him like clingfilm. His left hand tried to shade his eyes while he peered out between sleepcoated lashes. “’Course ah do y’*****. F*ck timezit?”
“Just shy of ten in the morning, did you see the board last night?"
Jack sniffed suspiciously at the roll, then squeezed his eyes tight shut and began eating blind. "Mphaybe?"
Dan rolled his eyes and sat down on Jack's bedside table. "You're fighting in the Steiner Coliseum in Silesia. Fifteen enemy mechs, all in the light class. Now I, being the best friend you'll ever have, have pulled the mechs you'll be fighting. Pretty standard fair on the whole. No variants listed for the most part, looks like six Locusts, three Commandos, Two Stingers, a Firestarter, Spider, another Urbie, and a Raven. Raven is an interesting one though. It's listed with two pilots."
Jack forced down another bite of roll, throat dry as...dry as a very dry thing. Damn hangover. "Itph wha'?"
"Don't talk with your mouth full, Jack, and drink this." Dan held out a glass of apple juice. "It's a 1X-DC, double cockpit mod. One guy with some high brow electronic warfare gear, and another guy actually piloting. Both of 'em are House Liao warriors. Looks like the Capellans are looking to show off some."
Jack's forehead wrinkled. "Electro...Sae like...litning?"
Dan held his face in his hands, voice blurred behind them. "I'll tell you later Jack. Do you want Taysider​ camouflaged again?"
"Aye lad." Jack said between bites and sips.
"Okay. The arena you'll be in has a moat around the edges, you want us to paint it up water on the bottom, sand on the top?"
"Aye, sure, 'kay," Mutter Jack. "Can ah go back t'sleep now?"
Dan patted him on the head. "I'll wake you when the painting is done, shall I?"

Edited by RogueSpear, 01 March 2013 - 07:40 AM.

[Thom Frankfurt]

D's Room Team One Dorm,
Rainbow Stables,
International Zone,
Solaris City, Solaris VII,
April 21st, 956ish hrs

Groggily DeMarkus cracked a bleary eye as the smell of bacon waifed into his room instantly urging him to look into the source of the (heavenly?) scent. Grimacing as he slowly rose, he stopped to look about confused. Kaylee, in her normal sun-worshipping early rising form was already gone, no doubt already at work at analyzing One-Eye with a clinical eye, leaving him to rise of his own accord.

Silently he looked his wounds over in the mirror while listening in on the voices coming from across the hall. Blackish-blue stripes crisscrossed across his torso from where his Commando's restraining straps bit in on him. While a swollen, so black it was almost purple area the size of his hand stretched across his ribs. He eavesdropped in on talks of a match, and a breakdowns of opponents caused D to perk up his ears and stop fingering at the swollen area.

A Raven...here?

The thought of such a high-tech warmachine here so far away from the CapCon truly intrigued the former Capellan MechWarrior. Maybe Dan was right, perhaps the Capellans had something to prove.

At that 'Markus headed for the door and finding that Kaylee had once again left it open as she made her way off to work, almost tackled Dan as he opened the door to head back to the mechyard.

"Yo,Dan. Damn's dat smells agood," he offered as way of greeting. "Hey's I's acouldn't ahelps it but'a I's a overheards somethings about amatch an somethings about a's Raven mech... Maybes I's cana helps you'sa out wit da specs da mech, ana maybees agive some advice about you guy'ses match." He smiled as Dan's face crinkled up as the tech's mind working over everything he just said, a crooked smile that pinched up the scar tissue on De'Markus' face.

"Or's I's acan wait till's Jack gets on up off his backside?"

Edited by Thom Frankfurt, 01 March 2013 - 01:30 PM.

[Thom Frankfurt]

Team One Dorm,
Rainbow Stables,
International Zone,
Solaris City, Solaris VII,
April 21st, A bit later

DaMarkus continued to glare over at the posting board in the dorm's common area. Red lettering on a black background, the board's digital faceplate broke down the various Rainbow Stables fighter's name, the venue and time of the bout. There was even an open space to the side for side notes, like whether it was a title bout, grudge match or even a specific opponent or some other bit of info for the other warriors of the stable. DeMarkus thought it was a great idea, but only if the various warriors would work together to plan out fights or offer tidbits of info on the 'arena' or opponent.

With this idea his military training clicked in, and a sudden idea struck him. He'd have to broach the subject with the stables ownership, but he was pretty confident that he'd be able to coax Von Bremen into converting over one of the vacant rooms in the stable house to be converted over to a planning room where the warriors could view over footage of fights and break down the info.

With that thought in mind he headed over to the balcony overlooking the mechyard. The Dragoon whom he met the night before Super-Locust was still gone. And Bertie's Enforcer was straped on down to a hauler which was prepping to leave. Sadly his idea can too late to be of use for the neigh likeable Davion warrior, but hopefully his idea would be a help in the future. If only they had a bit more of a notice for upcoming fights... Something else he'd have to coax out of Von Bremen or maybe the actual Stable owner, whom De'Markus had yet to (knowingly) meet.

Knock. Knock.

The rapping on the door snapped D out of his thoughts and drew him back inside the dorm. Crossing the dorm D answered the door to find the geeky-hottie night intern stumbling with a mag-key card.

"Hi-ya De'Markus," she offered nervously "I got a package for Vulpes." She held up a small package giftwrapped in a silvery purple package with a black silk ribbon. Letting her in she smiled warmly and made a beeline towards Jack's and his hallway.

"Uhh... wrong hallway, lady." He offered.
"Opps." She offered while crossing the commonroom towards the other hall, a look of utter embarrassment upon her face. DeMarkus wanted to ask who it was from but decided that he had no business getting into the affairs of another warrior. Coming back out of the hallway she smiled meekly at him just a faint trace of the redness of embarrassment still on her face.

"Oh, you still haven't filled out a grocery list. If you've got one I can run it down to be brought over." She smiled while pushing a strand of purple hair back over her ear.
"Groceries'?" He asked, genuinely confused. She beamed at his confusion.
"Yes, Randolph and the Countess thought it would be a good idea to have a grocer be readily available incase you guys want anything, you know so you guys can focus on training and whatnot. The cost will automatically be subtracted from your earnings here and yes, you'll receive a bi-weekly receipt so you know that you're not being cheated. Oh, just one more thing though... no alcohol." Her eyes drifted in the direction of Jack's room.

DeMarkus felt like a fool at that moment. He'd been going out and getting all his groceries himself.

"Yeah's agives me a minute an I'lls ahave a list for ya." He set out to make a list, and shortly afterward returned with it. "Here'ya go." He said offering her the vegi heavy list. "Ohs an if you'sa see Von Bremen tell em' dat I's a want to speak to's him whenever he has da time. No hurry. Oh an thanks." He said smiling closing to door.

[Thom Frankfurt]

Paradise Restaurant
Kobe (Kurita Sector)
Solaris City, Solaris VII
April, 21 3031 1400 hrs

Reservations didn't come easy or cheap here. Part museum, part eatery, the restaurant known only as Paradise was exclusive to say the least. High grained teak flooring stained a brilliant cherry shone with intensity, while displays of ancient Japanese relics transported all the way from Terra stood strategically placed amongst the private dining room offered one a change to reflect on mans humble past. Silken fans with hand painted designs of cherry blossoms stood mounted upon one wall while across from them, ancient words of wisdom hung on banners. The remaining two walls were composed of rice paper which would periodically slide open to allow serving girls dressed as geisha to gracefully enter and silently whisk away dishes. The place was beautiful, the service outstanding, and Erin hated it.

The Solaris Stable Owners Association met monthly here to discuss ongoing developments on the gladiatorial world. Ususally it would dissolve into a shouting match of who cheated who, and accusations of ringing matches. Today was no different, except for the newcomer to the association, Erin Hoffensdotter. As the newest member of the association, she sat the farthest down the table, which she didn't mind for it allowed her the chance to eyeball and size up her competition for the most part unknowing of the tortures she'd like to inflict upon them.

(GM Note to all: there are more people in the SSOA, I'm just pointing out these few for RP purposes and to highlight some of them. I don't wish to mess with the Lore. If you are feeling up to adding more send me a PM or get creative in you postings.)

To her right sat an ancient relict of a human being. Madam Wing-Wa herself, supposed leader of the Ax-gang (makes me think of Kung Fu Hustle) tong in Cathay, and owner the Jaded Giant stables. The heavy set Asian woman sat in a rich emerald colored silk Han suit silently plucking away absentmindedly on some roasted duck with a pair of, you guessed it, jade chopsticks.

To her left was the owner of Gun-Runner stables, a Mr. Elliot Runington, a merchant businessman and gun runner from the Free Worlds League, who stuck it rich by double dealing his own countrymen in the various (on going) civil wars there. He sat with a rim rod straight back in a exquisitely expensive crème colored Armani suit that would make Von Bremen as green as Madam Wing-Wa's suit with envy.

Randy... She squirmed at the thought of the man, and how he convinced her not to come crashing down on the bungling techs too hard so vigorously earlier. She took her mind from her rug-burned knees and bruised inner thighs, and back to her enemies at the table before her.

Sighing she turned her gaze past the grease ball in the Armani suit and sized up one of her fellow countrymen, Lucian Lynch, the owner of Lynch Stables, a spoiled brat of the planetary governor of some obscure world up near the Periphery. The man wasn't the stereotypical Lyran though, he had slicked back black hair and dark eyes that hinted at maybe an Italian decent. He had a preditorial gleam in his eye and sharp regional accent as he shouted angrily at the man across from him.

Barking back at Lynch, the Warlord of the Akuma Demons, Tenaku Tanaka sat visibly shaking and threatening to jump over the table to stab Lynch in the throat with his chopsticks. She silently applauded the man. She'd never admit it though, him being a Snake and all... but still there was only room for one Lyran stable on Solaris VII. If she had to guess, she'd say he was in his fifties, but it was always difficult to gauge Asians. The stable master was beginning to reign in his anger as he settled back upon his haunches, smooth over his ruffled kimono, and gracefully apologize to the Chairman, who she now focused on as he addressed the assembled mass of people.

Count Alfonzo Wellin-Russo was a count from some world in Draconis March of the Federated Suns. Clad all in black the man dressed like a dashing figure, but all comparison to any roguish hero ended. Cruel eyes stared out of a face that didn't move as he spoke, as if he had a permanent poker face in place, or if he was just unmoved by everything. To add to the effect the man had high cheekbones which framed a long face, which hinted that he started down upon everything as if he were better than it. Owning the Solaris Mech Space, and owning Black Hand Stables, which was easily the largest stable on Solaris the man had say and sway when it came to the affairs of the Game World. Erin felt a chill run up her spine as he locked gazes with her, and the Blackened Hand pin at his lapel seems to catch the light, almost startling her. With a slimy smile, the Chairman called order to the meeting.

"Now, now, if there is nothing more to discuss, this meeting is adjourned." The man suddenly stood, long and lean with a devilish smile casting Erin's way. Erin quickly shot to her feet cutting off the other owners from rising.

"Chairman, there is the issue with my stable being fully recognized allowed formal standing, being granted access to the Level one Circuit arenas, as well as promotions, sponsorships, and not to say access to the tunnels." She practically pleaded to the man. It infuriated her.

"Oh yes that, well... The SSOA, we've discussed that previously, and we're going to hold off on and final word pending the results of your matches. We don't want to spam the networks with has beens and never will be's. We're trying to promote good entertainment for our viewers. And well, save last night's fluke, we've had yet to see if anything entertaining other than that Churchill character's public apology where he butchered the English language and made a mockery of himself. You have a month's time to impress, Countess." With that the poker face cracked into a s**t eating grin and with a whips of fabric he was off.

"So help me God, I will one day p**s on that man's grave." Erin uttered under her breath as the assembled people rose to leave. The aghast looks on Madam Wing-Wa's and Runington's faces gave a hint that they overhead her oath. She should have been worried, but at the moment she didn't care.

Fools... all of them. Erin repeatedly thought as her chauffer drover her back to the Stable.

Edited by Thom Frankfurt, 01 March 2013 - 01:41 PM.

[kevin roshak]

Roland Fields, Solairs VII
April 21, 3031 1130

Kevin had been hiding in the rural area of Roland Fields, over 100km away from Erin and the chaos that had been his life. Kevin actualy had time to read the novella, Life & Death: A Mechwarriors Tale, the contact word the mission was based on, what seemed months ago, but had only been a few weeks. It was a suprisingly good read, and Kevin thoroughly enjoyed it, as he did most books.

(OOC: Cheeky I know )

Randolf had been helpful, but he couldnt contact him as often as Kevin would have liked to be fully kept in the loop. He knew Erin had a meeting with the SSOA today, no doubt playing up her 'noble' ties. I wonder if they even know about me, how Erin did very little other than set up a few accounts, Kevin wondered to himself. No doubt Erin was able to think up a few lies about his involvement, or she had already buried him under tons of paperwork and red-tape, she had always been a crafty bi*ch.

Kevin had heard the RS had a big match coming up and had made a commitment to show up, perhaps but a bit of fear into the warriors of the sham stable. Maybe even make an apperance myself, thought Kevin.

(OOC: More to come, got a Golden State Warriors basketball game to go to, sorry)

[guardian wolf]

Rainbow Stables Hangar
International Zone
Solaris City, Solaris VII
April 21st, 14:30

Dylan walked back into the hangar to get to work on the Flea, he called over a couple of techs that were on what seemed to be a break. The engine he had ordered from the warehouse where his Warhammer, and other equipment was stashed, was being offloaded now. The techs quickly walked over and helped finish offloading the it. When one of them went up to the delivery man, to sign what was the usual necessary paperwork, he didn't get a chance to get a word in, as the man just drove off. Dylan grabbed onto the pallet jack that the engine was now sitting on, and began to push it towards his mech. Some of the other techs were scratching their heads at what just happened, but then shrugged it off and helped Dylan get the stuff moving. Finally when they were at his mech, they opened up the crate, and Dylan heard a couple of techs whistle at the engine. It was new, unlike a lot of the stuff they had to work with. Dylan pulled out the holomanual and looked it over. The engine he knew about, but he also needed to know what the installation should look like, so that the techs didn't cannibalize this engine for use in other mechs. When he felt that he had a good grip on that, he oversaw its installation. He first ordered that the small lasers be removed to make room for the engine. They undid the connections for the small lasers, and winched them out of their positions. Then the techs began their work towards replacing the engine. The head tech waltzed toward Dylan with a measured walk that spoke of years of experience.

"Well sir, looks like this new engine will be tough to fit onto your mech, but we'll get her done,"

"It should not, not if your techs do their jobs correctly," Dylan spoke matter of factually while not even looking at the tech, instead watching the installation. The tech was about to say something when something popped, and a gust of flame shot out. The two dove for cover, and they heard a tech yelp in surprise. When Dylan and the other tech finally got back up, they looked at a tech who was poking his head out to make sure he just didn't kill his crew leader. Then he spoke quickly to explain.

"Residual heat buildup sir,"

Then Dylan turned to the head chief to make his point.

"If I have ANY malfunctions with this, you and your boys are to blame, every part there was accounted for, and must be used for this to operate at optimum capacity. And if you prove reliable, I will reward you all, if not, I'll simply have someone else brought in, and your superiors notified. Have I made myself clear?"

"What kind of reward?" The tech smiled slyly

"A 2 liter bottle of Danforth Whiskey, I know where to get it, and how,"

"Now you're speaking me language Dragoon, I'll take care of her for ye. OI LASKEY, I CATCH YOU STEALING PARTS AGAIN I'LL CUT YOUR ********* HAND OFF, YOU HEAR ME!!!"

Edited by guardian wolf, 14 March 2013 - 06:09 AM.

[Thom Frankfurt]

Team One Dorm, Rainbow Stables
International zone, Solaris City
Solaris VII, April 21 14:35hrs

"Ohh this Capellan is toast!" Heather beamed excitedly as a stream of depleted uranium tipped slugs chewed into the forty-five ton Vindicator piloted by Singh Fa-Unn nearly toppling the mech. "Okay, maybe not." She added as the Capellan warrior shot back at it's tormentor with the jade painted Vindicator's particle cannon, blasting off the fifty ton Enforcer's left arm at the elbow and sending it skittering along the rock quarry's floor.

"Oh it looks like Dangerous Danny Lopez is in trouble after that last exchange! Yep, the Enforcer is down to just a few shots with it's auto-cannon, and it looks like Fa-Unn knows it as he's backing off to take pot shots at extreme range with his long ranged missiles and PPC."

DeMarkus nodded as he sat down lunch for Heather upon the small coffee table before her. A grilled cheese sandwich and some apple wedges and a small glass of fruit juice. He then took a seat down beside her as she sat frowning looking at the vidplayer as the match slowly played out with the Vindicator sniping away at the Enforcer at range. With a critical eye the former Capellan looked on and had to hand it to the Vindicator pilot. Unless some unpredictable thing happened, Singh had this match well in hand. But DeMarkus had to wonder at what cost, his Vindicator was pretty chewed up. With a stump for a left arm and several breeches in the mech's armor oozing sickly yellow coolant and smoke belching from a ruptured jump-jet, the mech limped in for the kill as the commentator did his best to play up the drama of the Liao/Davion grudgematch. He didn't have to try hard, as ancient enemies armed with mechs of similar weight and abilities usually led to tense, close matches, and those were always good for ratings.

DeMarkus snorted as 'Dangerous Danny' fired off a bright neon green flare that signaled defeat. He then turned to look at Heather, who sat there with her arms crossed over her chest and a pouty lip. Chuckling, he reached out and patted her on her shoulder.

"Any's givings day, Heather. Any's givings day." The door to the dorm then opened and a grease covered Kaylee practically skipped into the room. Smiling from ear to ear she skipped to a stop before D. "Mar I have a gift for you." She then dropped into his lap something small and heavy.

"Ow's, wat da H3ll Kay?" He then held up the object and turned it over inspecting it. A bent lump of metal with the shinny area from where it snapped off of a larger piece. "Is dis..-" Kaylee cut him off. "It's one of the bolts from where we welded that armor plate over that hole on One-Eye's head." She smiled at him mischievously, "It's probably what hit you in the side. Speaking of which, you gonna get that looked at, it's turning ulgy." She added. "A-hem!" Heather cut in suddenly causing the two to glance her way.

Sitting there in the same position, she glared at them with an annoyed look then turned to the vidplayer where the announcer was introducing the next matches combatants. The two grown ups then moved on to DeMarkus' room, with the realization that they've just been chased out of a room by a child slowly dawning on them.

"Look's I's will get it's checked out tomorrow's." He waved off her concern and changed the subject. "So how's One-Eye?"

"Well, we had to remove the entire right arm. I used a micro-digital-analyzer," her eyes lit up then as she got excited about talking about technical things, "and the entire internal structure there had stress fractures running through out that bone. No doubt caused by that stunt you pulled." She stopped suddenly and broke out in a beaming smile. "Oh yeah, and the gyro is kaput."

"Kaput?" He asked not fully following.

"Yeah a chunk of it snapped off, I'm not sure from your hand to hand attacks or the transit home, but that's not a problem. We could swap the gyro out for the one in the Panther. Oh, and I was talking to some of the guys and they told me about one of the guards here that has some demolition training and should be able to de-arm the shrooms stuck in the torso. I've talked to the guy and showed him that mess and he even gave me a quote. He said he'll do it, but it'll have to be when he isn't 'on the clock.'

Wait, a security guard with EOD training? DeMarkus thought that was highly unusual. But then as he thought about it, everything about this stable and it's guards was unusual.

"That's a good, Kay." He offered while looking out his window to a view of the Solaris River slowly winding its way through the city.

"So we should be able to get One-Eye back to stock condition within the month, maybe even sooner if we're to procure the parts, but that shouldn't be too hard considering how common the Commando is, and the fact that this is the Lyran Commonwealth." She rolled her eyes and gave a dorky chuckle.

"I'sa don't want'sa stock Commando." He then jestured for Kaylee to take a seat, and she sat down upon the edge or his bed, lightly smearing it with grease. "Why?" She hesitantly asked as if she was dreading his reply.

"I'sa been thinking. And's da way I'sa figured about it, da majority of da successful pilots here have rides dat aren't regular. So's I was athinking about strapping da Panter's particle cannon onto One-Eye." Kaylee scoffed at him and turned her nose up, like what he was suggesting was blasphemous.

"Oh's don't gives me dat. Dat mech is fast, well's faster den anyting's I'sa ever piloted, but like most lights it ahas to get up close to use it's weapons. So's I's was athinking about da lighting gun, it's has range an packs a nasty punch. Tink about it's Kay, not many lights move dat fast and have a gun like dat." If's anybody's can do dis custom, you's can." He practically pleaded with her and she crinkled up her face as was her custom when she was deep in thought.

"Well..." she began and trailed off as she worked out the technical problems she would have to overcome to do as the mad Capellan requested. "I can do it, but you're not gonna have much for back up weapons. And I'd have to tweak the supports on a Commando chasis to even begin to mount a weapon that big." She thought aloud, then busted out with more dorky chuckling. "Just what are you going to call this abomination? Comanther? Panmando?" More chuckling then. "You're crazy Mar, you know that?"

"Wells' I's was atinking about maybe someting else, maybees astraping a 7cm (large) laser to it an welding some jumpjets on." He offered and she scoffed. "Where the heck do you get these ideas?" She asked incredulously. He shrugged as a response and reaching out took her hand and helped her to her feet.

"Come, Heather's dads afight is'a coming up soon." He said while leading her out to the common room. "Don'ts want toos miss it."

Edit: Spelling and Grammar. Oh and fixing D's accent. =P

Edited by Thom Frankfurt, 09 March 2013 - 01:29 AM.

[Sparks Murphey]

Loading Dock
Pizarro Raceway
Outskirts of Solaris City, Solaris VII
April 21st, 16:20 hours

He’d placed third. Bertie tried to tell himself that was a good thing. Furthermore, the Blackjack and Assassin kills had both been awarded to him, which left him with the second most kills. It was a good opening match.

It still felt like a defeat.

Bertie took another swig of his beer as he watched the techs strapping a few loose pieces of the Enforcer to its carrier. What really dug at him was that the half-disintegrated Commando and the UrbanMech pilot who couldn’t pilot his way out of a paper bag, as he’d described DeMarkus and Mad Jack just a couple of days ago, had both won their matches.

“Well, I was gonna offer you a beer, but you’ve already got one,” said a voice behind him.

He looked around.There was a woman walking toward him, a little younger than he was. Her black hair was shaved at the sides, with a centre strip extending down to her shoulder blades in a flat plat. He didn’t recognise her face, but the black and dark green cooling vest and shorts left little doubt in his mind about who she was.

“Do you make a habit of buying drinks for the vanquished?” Bertie said, turning back to his booze.

“This isn’t a war, Albert,” Rei Tsuji said, sitting on the grass a few metres away, “I can defeat a person in the arenas and still be entirely civil to them after.”

She stared idly at the sky, and Bertie cast a distrust glance at her. Surely this wasn’t just about being civil. What was her angle?

“That was a good fight out there,” Rei said without warning, turning back to him, “I’d honestly picked you for another ex-jarhead grunt. Two kills is nothing to sneer at, though. Still, your boss, wassername? Erica? Whatever. She’s gonna be p****d.”

“Rei, are you drunk?”

She shrugged. “I’ve had a couple of glasses of bubbly. And...” she squinted at the bottle, “...half a bottle of beer. But we’re talking about you, not me. As I said, this isn’t a war. It’s a performance. But you’re still fighting like it’s a war, measuring ground given and taken, assets secured, s*** like that. Though, that close-quarters stuff with Yi was good,” Rei said, saluting him with her bottle.

“It’s not much of a performance if I don’t have a ‘Mech,” Bertie grumbled.

“Right! Because it is a war!” Rei shouted exuberantly, leaving Bertie a little dumbfounded. “But it’s a war over your next audience turnout. But there’s more to consider than just the match at the moment, there’s how this match will affect people in the next. It’s about image. In the arenas, our BattleMechs become...become avatars of a deadly dance in the mind’s of the fans. And you’re not part of that, you’re still operating a piece of military equipment. Is this...is this making sense?”

Bertie shook his head silently.

“Nevermind,” Rei said, “I’ll think of how to explain it better and tell you next time. For now, there’s a medium match with Tomorrow Marlow out in Burgton, and I need to grab a pizza. You wanna tag along?”

Bertie shook his head again.

“Alright,” she shrugged, “I’ll see you around, Albert.”

That’s one odd woman, Bertie thought to himself as she walked away.

(Edit: Gammadin pointed out that no one had heard of Baxa prior to the fight Rei references, since he subs in for Marlow at the last minute.)

Edited by Sparks Murphey, 10 March 2013 - 03:24 AM.

[Thom Frankfurt]

Rainbow Stables team one dorm
International Zone
Solaris City, Solaris VII
April 21st, 15:15 Hours

"Mar. Come quick it's coming on." Said Kaylee from where she sat curled up in her baby-blue flannel pajamas with a pink star-like pattern upon them. Nodding like a simpleton, DeMarkus made his way over to the small sofa where Kay and Heather sat glued to the holovid player and lay the tray of snacks upon the small coffee table before them. Wedging himself between the two he sat back and wrapped his arm around the tech as she leaned forward to pluck up a quilliar and jelly finger sandwich while Heather made herself busy by plucking up the small bowl-full of olives on the tray.

As the announcer went through with the introductions, D looked over the various mechs desiding that the match should come down to Bertie's Enforcer, the Shadow Hawk, and Phoenix Hawk. Despite his personal feelings for the BJ-1, the other mechs seemed too lightly armed or in the Assassin's case pathetic to win this one. (sorry personal taste coming through) D then got up and went to pour the three of them glasses of milk from whomever's (Vulpes?) milk jug that was in the icebox.

Barely getting back to the sofa in time for the begining, DeMarkus leaned forward and grabbed himself a quilliar sandwich then sat back to enjoy the mechanized carnage unfold. He nodded appreciatively as Bertie moved his Enforcer skillfully throughout the churned up mud-field that was Pizzaro Parkway.

Munching away at the sandwich while watching the match unfold the way he'd predicted, DeMarkus smiled at Heather as she leaned forward, enthralled, with mouth agape watching as her father soon found himself being sandwiched between the two Hawks. With himself leaning forward, sitting on the sofa's edge, he tried to reign in his excitement by taking a gulp from his glass of milk. The next thing he knew he was spitting it all out all over the place as the Enforcer's head split apart as the MechWarrior punched out. Both Heather and DeMarkus found themselves on their feet shouting at the Vidcaster in unison.

"OH COME ON DAD!!" Shouted Heather. "OH COME'S ON MAN!!" Shouted DeMarkus. Kaylee cast one look at the two then leaned in to see if Bertie was alright. When the small parachute reached the ground a small figure jumped out and began running away from where the final two battlemechs circled one another. Kaylee let out a sigh of relief as the realization that Heather's father would be okay.

The Capellan then sat back and shook his head as Heather got up and stormed off towards her father's room, then slammed the door. He then looked on as the Phoenix Hawk shot the ShadowHawk and felled it with what he thought was a minimal damaging shot from it's medium laser.

Sitting back with a grim look, DeMarkus chewed over what he'd just seen. First of all, a free-for-all match that wasn't. And his team-mate, while no doubt skillful behind the controls of a battlemech, was unwilling to fight a match to the bitter end. Whether fueled by caution, or cowardice was to be seen. But one thing was sure though, DeMarkus would have a nagging feeling in the back of his mind if they ever had a lance on lance battle.

He then felt Kaylee give his hand a gentle sqeeze. Smiling at him she tosses a little cube of diced ham at him.

"Knock it off, Mar. Jack's on soon. Relax." Smiling meekly at her, he nodded apprecitivly at her then tossed the cube of ham into his mouth.

"You's right, Kay. Don'ts aworry, be ahappy."

[Alan Wagner]

Solaris City, Solaris VII
16:30 21 April 3031

The sliding door of the Mercenary hall hissed as it opened to reveal a large man charging through it with a look of fury in his steel blue eyes. Several other pilots making their way to the building stepped out of the man's way as he stormed past them. He rose his forearm in front of him and tapped a button activating his commlink. "I have some bad news Dmitri, still no luck finding a mercenary commission." The man winced as a wave of swearing came blasting out of his commlink. "Yes, yes I know I won't be able to get my 'mech out of the Kirov yet." The speakers on his commlink strained once more as another torrent of swears come through. "We'll discuss it later Dmitri! I'm paying you aren't I?" He sighed and hung up on a third tirade before punching a light post.

Matthew Hood had been trapped on the game planet of Solaris VII ever since he'd arrived seeking a position with a mercenary unit. He'd been hoping to finally get his career as a 'mech pilot off the ground, but so far that was easier said than done. With the Inner Sphere at relative peace however, there wasn't much in the way of work. As a result, Matthew's Wolverine had been trapped in Captain Dmitri Melnikov's drop ship. As the weeks ticked by, Dmitri had been getting increasingly antsy and harder and harder to placate. He'd have to find a commission soon or be forced to join a local stable and compete in the games which he was hoping to avoid.

He headed back towards the Kirov and stepped into the 'mech bay to find Dmitri waiting for him. "When do you plan to get your piece of trash of my ship?" The captain narrowed his eyes at Matthew as he gestured to the Wolverine. Matthew sighed and rubbed his temples before speaking, "Alright, alright Dmitri, I'll get it of your ship. I heard there was a bay free at the Rainbow Stables." He sighed leaning against the foot of his WVR-6M2. "I gotta place a call..." with that he stepped out of the 'mech bay and went to go place a call with the Stable.

Edited by Alan Wagner, 14 March 2013 - 05:33 PM.

[RogueSpear]

Team One Dorm,
Rainbow Stables,
International Zone,
Solaris City, Solaris VII,
April 21st, 10:02 Hours.

“Yeah, that’d be great Mr. DeMarkus,” Replied Dan, pleasantly surprised. “Pleasure to meet you, by the way.” He held out a hand as curses erupted from Jack's room then, for the most part incoherent, but DeMarkus could have sworn he heard something about needing two doctors and four nurses to get thirteen inches of boot out of someones a$$. The MechWarrior then lead Dan out to the kitchenette, where he plucked up a piece of bread and began to sop up some bacon grease from a pan. He then turned around to regard the tech before quickly scarfing up the bread.

"Before da Davies alanded on Tikonov, we'sa had a couple of dem Ravens. I's a never piloted one myself, but I'sa heard a few things around da campfire and I's had seen a couple of reports cross da Colonel's desk from time to time about da mech. Decent little mech on da company level, but's it shouldn'ts be tos big ofs a problem by itself."

He paused and leaned back against the kitchen counter at this point.

"Da EW gear's a wildcard. From what I's knows, it'll mess wit your sensors. I've heard of everything from static playing across da HUD to popping an hissing on do comline. But's dats not da only ting it does. It'll find you's if you'sa laying low trying to's... wat was dat expression Kay say... 'Bushwhack' someone. It'lls be ables to even if you'sa powered down I heard. Now, don't alook so worrieds, it'a has to be aright atop of you's for ita work. "

At that point the Capellan subconiously rubbed away at his right side while slightly flinching.

"Now's unless dey added jets, it doesn't jump. Funny ting, a mech named afta a bird and it'a can't fly. But it'sa got a decent movement profile, about da same as a Commando. But it's armor is pretty light, a well placed shot from Taysa.." He stumbled over the mech's name before just giving up. "dat 100mm will pop dat head likes a pimple. Da weapons on'it are pretty much da basic light mech gear, 5cm lasers, some short range missiles... Just stay more den 300 meters from it an it'll can hit ya."

He then crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back with a thoughtful look upon his scarred face.

"Now it'a ain't going to be da same as da Raven I'sa know. We didn't haves any duel cockpits or any of dat goofy crap. I know it'sa not much, but what I'sa just said is alls I'sa know."

DeMarkus then held up a forestalling finger and stoped any questions or comments the tech may of had.

"Ifs I was in Jack's place, I'da keep my distance from Raven, lay low an let da otter guys shoot da s**t outta each otter. When der was only a couples left, den I'da go on da hunt. Dat's my advice, sorry's I'sa don't got more to's offer."
Dan nodded thoughtfully. “That’s great Mr. DeMarkus, very helpful. Do you think you could write that down? I’ll pass it in to Jack and get on with painting up the Taysider.”
//D says yes and writes up everything in as choppy of English as possible, or so it seemed.
“Awesome, thanks. Listen I gotta run and see if we have the paint I need and if we don’t send someone to get it, but I’ll be back soon. Probably.” He grinned as he retreated backwards out the room, turning as he finished speaking with a half skip and jogged out of the dorms.

Team One Dorm,
Rainbow Stables,
International Zone,
Solaris City, Solaris VII,
April 21st, 11:32.

Jack emerged from his room, showered and dressed and only half dead. A white knuckled hand was clamped around a small bottle of cheap whisky, and his bacon heavy breath was tainted enough to suggest it wasn’t full. He winced unintentionally as he left the relative darkness of his room, bottle hand half raising in an instinctive motion to blot out the light. Instead he shook his head and forced his eyes open so as not to look too hungover, bare feet sinking into the rich carpet as he walked down the corridor to cross into the living room. DeMarkus was in the kitchen cleaning up and Jack glared at the cold tiles, entirely unwilling to step on them.
“Hey D,” Jack nodded at the Capellan in greeting when he turned, holding up a fist full of maps and photos. “Got a sec?”

"Ayeah, what up?" the Warlockian answered, wiping down the kitchen counter one last time with a rag before turning to reguard the 'fluffy' MechWarrior.

“Ah was hopin’ t’go over m’plans for the match with ye.” Said Jack as he sat down on one of the couches, spreading the maps and photos of the arena across the coffee table. “If wir t’be a team, makes sense to see how we fight, tactics an’ quirks an’ the like. Get t’know each other.”

DeMarkus smiled, which made the scar tissue crinkle up almost demonically. "I'msa glad you's a seeked me out. I wasa hoping to talk to ya. Alook, sense we's a team, we's agoing to need to help one anothers. Both on an off da field. An I wasa tinking about's talking to Von Bremen about's having a room here designated where's we cans go over vids an helps one anothers out. All's of us, Vulpes an Heather's dad. I'sa means we's a team right, an maybe's one of us willa see's or tink o' someting dat da other's wouldn't." He shrugged when he got done and hopped up to take a seat on the kitchen counter.

“Aye, that’s whit ah wiz thinkin’. Sae me personally, ah don’t like losing, an’ ah see no reason t’make things easy for the ither b*gger.” He grunted. “So y’could call mah style ‘Aggressively defensive’ mebbe. When ah can, ah try t’make sure ah can see the ground before haun. See whaur to break tae if ah need to and know whaur to avoid. The avenues tha’ just open into a killing field. Where to go to set up a killing field. That kind of thing.”

D nodded as Jack spoke, slowly deciphering the MechWarrior's thick accent. At length he shrugged again and replied. "We's a not too's different I's a think. Normally I'sa try to use my's mech's abilities to's create mix-matches..." he trailed off, "Dat's da right word? 'mix-matches?' Like's if I'msa bigger den da other guy, I's a get up and bully him wit physical attacks. If I'sa faster I's either keep da distance or's a try to flank em. But ultimately, I's atry to take my's enemy out of his comfort zone and capitalize on his weakness'... Like what I's a did with Min. I'sa used his aggressiveness against him. He'sa like shooting dat particle cannon, and I'shot 'em wit some inferno's when he was'a running hot." He paused for a second and leaned back on his perch on the counter. "But I's usually in a Cataphract, and astill getting aused to One-Eye."

“Cataphract? Big mech. Ah’ve a Jagermech m’self, but it’s in all manner of pieces, more’s the pity. Keepin’ ‘em out o their comfort zone...ah like tha’. Good turn o’phrase.” Jack pointed at one of the overhead shots. “Looks like the start points are near the corners, three in each, an’ 4 poor sods facing aff in the middle. Now, ah’m thinking these’ll break down into localized fights. Guys in the middle’ll hit the sides or the guy next to them. Maybe on one side one goes to a corner an’ the other goes across to the other two.” Jack nodded appreciatively. “Good mix o’ action. You got line duels, bunch of individual furballs, and some random action t’shake things up an’ keep things different.”

"So's I don't aknows what to say here. If I's were you's, I'd a find me's a some place wit long avenues for dem to approach ya. With dat cannon you's agot you'res most alikly outranging dem, so's I'd find myself a nice litte spot wit my back against a wall and let dem whittle themselves down a bit. Den after da numbers get thinned out a bit, I'ds go on da hunt after the skirmishes an mishaps take their toll. Dat's when you's and dat 100mm become really dangerous. So's I'sa tinking dat you'res only problems would a be a couple of dem ganging up on ya, but dat shouldn't happen, it's a free-for-all right? Use da terrain to yours advantage an a pick your shots carefully.

“Aye, ye’re not wrang. These arches in the middle provide some good cover for sniping, and thae gaps in middle o’ the walls lets a shoot out happen between some o’ thae arches.” Jack rubbed his beard thoughtfully. “Ah’ll need t’watch out for that. Ah’m plannin’ on sticking t’the moat round the edge though. Encloses the whole area and the way weapons are mounted on Taysider, won’t be much o’ me visible when ah’m shooting ower the tap. Dan’s off painting Taysider like water from the belly down, sand fae that up. Just in case it makes the tiniest bit o’ difference.” He shrugged, “In this case, no likely t’be much, but it costs me nothing and might buy a few seconds ower the match.”

DeMarkus cracked his twisted smile again, and hopped off the counter to look over the pictures strewn across the kitchen table, and picked out the one of the moat.

"Too bad you'sa don't got a PPC...dat water sure would be useful. Ah you'lls a do alright. I's a saw a ammo bin wit 100mm caseless rounds. Dat would ah gives you..." he trailed off doing the math on how long a continuous rate of fire would be. "just over three minutes of non-stop fire." He nodded once more. "Yeah you'lls do alright."

“Aye, ah’ve got 30 rounds for it. Swapped out the eleventh heat sink they like to strap to urbies for another tonne of ammo a few years back. Damn thing’s only useful for keeping new guys from feeling warm anyhow.” Jack scratched his cheek. “Ah’m using one of the large bore autos as y’said, so it only fires wan shell a pop, but cycles much faster than the old rifles. Less chance o’ a jam than the smaller burst models as well ah’m thinkin’, and less spread.”
Jack pulled the cork out the whisky and took another swig. “Ah’ve a few ideas for the fight in addition t’the camo in terms of giving me an edge. Ah ken whaur t’get a portable trivid set an’ a walkie talkie, ah’m thinkin’ o’ gettin’ the latter for Dan an’ stickin’ him in the stauns. He can keep me up t’date on what’s goin’ on an’ the trivid can lemme get a better picture o’ things.” He shrugged. “Ah’m doubtin’ it’ll actually work an tha’, but if et does, some other b*gger’ll be daein’ et already on the sly an’ ah’ll no be caught out.”

"Well dey don't search your mech afta da fight do dey?" DeMarkus' crinkled up his brow in thought. "I's wouldn't be surprised if one of da other guys is doing da same ting. I's stay away from dat idea wit Dan hanging out up in da rafters wit a walkie, though. Wat'd happen if he got caught? I'msa thinking dat da SBC, DBC, an even da SSOA might come down on da boss lady an Von Bremen if dat happen. An givin' how's dat incident went down out on da proving grounds it'll not be pretty." DeMarkus gave a grim look as he thought about how Jack 'moonwalked' his Urbanmech across the top of the SBC broadcasting van. "I'sa don't know. Da trivid ting might work, might not, I dunno. Dan up in da rafter's may work but I's wouldn'nt do it, too's risky right now. I'sa play it careful and be a good boy right now. But dat's just me." He plucked up one of the photos and looked it over.

Jack chewed his cheek for a moment, thinking about Von Bremen’s words of warning the night before. “Aye, yer mebbe right. Ah’ll take the trivid just in case, ah’m doubtin’ they’ll check the cockpit.” He clapped his hands on his thighs and stood. “Well, ah’m aff. Gonnae go check on Taysider an’ head over. Thanks for the help D.” The fat pirate clapped the Capellan war hero on the shoulder as he left; grinning to himself at the twists of fate that had brought such different personas together.

EDIT: Censor dodging.

Edited by RogueSpear, 13 March 2013 - 08:47 PM.

[guardian wolf]

Rainbow Stables Hangar
International Zone
Solaris City, Solaris VII
April 22nd, 11:30

Dylan was on his way out when he spotted the Cappellan, and realized that he needed to speak to him about recent events. He immediately made a beeline for the Cappellan, and spoke quickly.

"So, Mr. Frankfurt, finally good to formally meet you and certainly under better circumstances than recently,"

Edited by guardian wolf, 01 April 2013 - 09:53 AM.

[Thom Frankfurt]

Rainbow Stables Mechyard
International Zone
Solaris City, Solaris VII
April 22nd, 11:30

"GIVE ME BACK MY APPLE!!" Roared Kaylee as she chased a squealing Heather through the mechyard. DeMarkus chuckled as the two wound their way around the workspace weaving inbetween the legs of mechs and crates of munitions. Bobbing and weaving, ducking and jumping the two raced. Their mad dash eventually brought out a infuriated Randal who yelled at them as they ran down a catwalk with Kaylee finally cornering Heather at the catwalks dead end by the skeletal Catapult.

"ONE OF YOU IS GOING TO GET KILLED AND I'M NOT CLEANING IT UP!!" With that the master tech retreated back into his office slamming his door.

"No power in the 'verse can stop me!" Shouted Kay triumphantly while holding her retrieved apple aloft. Giggling the two walked together back down the path they went arm in arm, like sisters or some-such. Still chuckling DeMarkus was totally caught off guard as the Dragoon walked up and began talking to him.

"So, Mr. Frankfurt, finally good to formally meet you and certainly under better circumstances than recently,"

"Oh yeah's, last night wasa... bad time." DeMarkus shook the Dragoon's hand, trying in vain to not think about the events that Dylan hinted at.

"Now, first thing is first, I have a theory about the goings on here. We need to watch our backs, as someone wants us to fail, and hard. That and I'm not too sure about what to think about our benevolent overlords," Dylan said awkwardly like he wasn't used to talking to people.

"Benevolent over'slords?" DeMarkus crinkled up his brow trying to catch Dylan's meaning.

"Oh you'sa mean Von Bremen an dat Erin person?" He shrugged acting like he wasn't concerned at all, but the look in his eye hinted that he was.

"Well I'sa tinking they's scared." He then pointed out to where a technician was installing even more security cameras in each corner of the mechyard. "Tink about it, some dude show's up unannounced an starts'a shooting. Dey den wire all da doors to sound an alarm when dey's get open an installs even morea camera's. H3ll man, I'sa seen camera shops wit less cameras den this place!"

The Warlockian then pointed pass where Kaylee stood chomping her apple overlooking Chris and Eddie's working stripping armored plating off of the unattached Panther arm to where two guards stood by the supposed exit the would be assassin gained entrance through.

"Look at dem. Kevlar armor, laser carbines, auto pistols, an vibro blades... Pretty heavy gear for just some run of da mill security deal."

Then the Capellan turned gladiator sat back with a thoughtful look on his face.

"You know's, des guys ain't abeen around for long, have dey? Kinda odd dat a stable justa sprung up suddenly like dis... From wat I's seen on da vidplayer it usually takes a's long time to build up to almost a company's worth of mechs. Nobody here's really been on planet dat long either... It'd take a lot of's money to get an outfit like dis up an running."

He paused an tapped a finger against his chin while looking in the direction of the neigh skeletal Catapult stowed away forgotten like in the corner. He then motioned in the direction of the 'Pult.

"You'sa know who's mech dat is?" DeMarkus asked suddenly.

"No, I do not. It would seem to me that we are a part of a very deadly game of cat and mouse. The catapult seems like someone was waiting for an opportunity to press it in,"

The Cappellan had indeed noticed that security was extremely high. Something told Dylan that he was more paranoid than himself, and that was saying something.

"I am just trying to let you guys know, we got to watch each other's backs out there. And for now it seems that these outside forces are going to keep them busy. If you ask me though, this place seems more like a prison, than a fortress,"

Dylan shook his head, he found it very hard to keep up a conversation with someone. He just was not used to so much talking around others. In trials it was simple, you spoke your challenge and then fought your challenger. In the Sphere though, you had to issue orders to flank, concentrate fire, or other such things. And now that he had been conscripted for the 7th, he had to make chit chat with someone he did not even know. And the fact that his orders were to protect these people at all costs, and gain information from them at the same time. He then thought of one last question he should ask the Cappellan before he left.

"Demarkus, do you have any experience in fighting hitmen?"

"Hitsmen?" The Capellan blinked as he thought it over. "You'sa mean like knife-men? No, not really. You'sa want to place a contract on somebody's?" He thought it over for a second. "I'msa sure ders probably's a place on dis Rock where you's could hire one. But why would you'sa do dat?"

Dylan immediately cursed himself mentally for not making his point clearer.

"No, I mean, do you have experience against them, because I think everyone in this stable has a hit on them. Even Jack. We have to keep on the lookout, as I would be willing to bet that after tonight's match, someone would go after him,"

DeMarkus blatantly laughed at the Dragoon's face. A hearty rumbustious belly splitting laugh, but he trailed off as he became aware that the Dragoon wasn't joking.

"You's serious? Alook if deys can assassinate da Senior Military Coordinator of's Capellan Armed Forces, an da Supreme Lord of da Tikonov Free Republic, den what challenge are's a bunch of ragtag mech jocks gonna pose? If dey want you's dead den der is nothing you's can really do about it."

He shook his head sadly while looking at the Dragoon's confused look.

"I'm not saying to just stand der and make things easy for the guy. You's been dodging gunfire right? What'd happen if dey parked a carbomb out front, I'msa sure dat da explosion would be able to detonate da munitions out in da mechyard, an if dey went... goodbye to Rainbow Stables."

He pasues again as the merc chewed over the words that he just shared.

"Chin up's man, it's not da end of da world. You's keep thinking like dis an you's gonna give yaself a heart attack."

Dylan listened as the Capellan spoke, and then heard the word, car bomb. What was a car bomb? He had never heard the term before, and from what he could gather from what the Cappellan had said, it meant that someone stuffed a car full of explosives, and then drove it somewhere, setting it off. Great, now he had to be suspicious of cars as well, but then he caught on to the Capellan's final thought. If you can not do anything about it, do not worry about it. He could not believe that the answer was that simple. Just do what you can. He had done his best so far, so that was what he could do for now. He looked at Demarkus with an almost blank expression, but the hint of relief he allowed, if only a hint. He quickly wiped it away and spoke in farewell.

"Well, I am most certainly glad we could talk Mr. Frankfurt, I am sure that you have other more important things to do at the moment. Thank you,"

"Yeah's I's need to go get my's ribs looked at. You's take care Wolf, an please calls me DeMarkus." The Dragoon then nodded and walked off in the direction of his Super-Locust. (Flea) Sighing, D looked over the activity in the yard, paying particular attention to the sad condition of his teammates mechs. Bertie's Enforcer was there, swarming with techs stripping off the battered and twisted armor plates with others seeming to spelunk into the holes blasted into the Davion's mech.

Jack's Urbanmech was in an even sadder state, in fact it reminded D of what he asked Slater when he saw One-Eye for the first time. "Yo's wat happen to's it, man? It looks like's an Atlas picketed it's teeth wit it." Except it looked more like the mighty Taysayer got dragged out onto the proving grounds and used for target practice. He had to give it to Jack, the man had balls and knew how to milk everything out of his Urbie. Hanging lifeless from some scaffolding like a marionette, the armless, side torso-less , with a half crushed head probably only had a few grams of armor left, and DeMarkus felt like he was being generous. Still, the old pirate was victorious however in the hospital.

Surprisingly Vulpes Clint was gone...

Hospital... that reminded D that he'd promise Kaylee that he'd go have his wounds looked at, and with that thought in mind, he hefted himself off from where he was perched up on top of a stack of armored plating. Maybe he'd pay the old pirate a visit while getting his bones looked at.

Edited by Thom Frankfurt, 01 April 2013 - 10:30 AM.

[MacabreDerek]

Champ's Belt Bar
International Zone
Solaris City, Solaris VII
April 22nd, 11:30

The holograms danced upon the table displaying the two lone combatants. It was a poor simulation of the real thing, but it was the only bit of glory Rick had seen in days. As usual, he would be piloting an Archer, the heavy support mech that was a configuration very common on the field of battle. The young punk who was wearing his father's coolant vest trying to add some form of legitimacy to his image as a mech pilot. The fact he chose an Atlas-D proved otherwise.

It was a 30-Cs bet this time, and as the LRM's of the Archer scattered across the front of the Atlas, Rick's ears were fixed to the re-broadcast of the Rainbow Stables matches. It seemed so many of his acquaintances were doing very well in their matches, with him hoping to see DeMarkus and maybe a screen of Kaylee in the old Commando they worked on to grace the screen.

The HUD flashed, his ammo-bin had been empty. It has been a long time since he had to engage in close-in fighting, and even with the Atlas shreded armour it was going to be a tough fight, but thankfully the pilot before him was all talk and no game. The controls were nothing like Scrapmaker's, but they were becoming more fluent than his own mech's setup. It was a disappointing realization.

Drowning his sorrows in drink and cheap gambling thrills he had become a regular patron of Champ's for many days now, his 'cockpit' remained well worn from many backsides filling it over the years, and the program was showing it's age with random flickers and artifacting on the screen that would require a hard hit to the side of the machine to stabilize.

His Mech was ejected from the hanger, and was now sitting in a field rusting to the elements, and if it wasnt for a single desperate landlord letting him park it on the cheap, he would not know where else to use it. His fist clenched, as did the hologram of the Archer before it was brought into the abdomen of the Atlas and punching in through the Engine block.

The simulation ended. "Red Player Wins" flashed infront of him. Red Player lost a long time ago. Washed up and ended up in a gutter bar that like him was trying to hang onto any glory it could by holding onto the title of 'champ'. The problem was Rick didn't have any Glory to hang onto. Those dreams got flushed long before he even got to Solaris.

The seat across him was empty, and the 30-Cs were sitting on the edge of the table. Rick didn't even see the young man leave. Not much he could have said anyway. Reaching down to the floor he hoised a heavy dufflebag. Most when out on the street would carry clothes, Rick had his tools that cluttered in the bag even after individually being wrapped with what was once his wardrobe.

Looking around, the bar was almost desolate, save for a few other bar flies at the counter and the barkeep. Walking into the washroom, the broken mirror at the sink shown how much people cared about this bar, probably as much as most cared for the patrons in it.

Running the cold water, and taking some paper towel, he put alot of soap in the towel and lathered it up in the sink. Washing his pits and neck, he looked into the mirror. The stubble was growing into a full out ratty beard, and his eyes were sank in deep with long dark circles underneath. Wiping the towel over his face, he paused.

"That's not me...." The face in the mirror, the eyes in the shattered reflection, it was a broken shell of a man, as broken as the mirror itself. His eyes hardened.

Grabbing hold of his bag, and smelling a little better, Rick slung the bag over his shoulders. The door flung open, and he walked through the room. The eyes of drunks and other broken or forgotten remnant of Solaris turned to the bang of the door.

"Hey Red, you alright?" That barkeep, Saul. Been calling Rick 'Red' since he started spending his days in that forsaken chair.

Rick wanted to clock Saul with the wrench in his bag. 'Red Player Wins'. It was a fantasy that wasn't coming true sitting here, drinking. It took a few seconds before Rick simply walked towards the door.

There was a cool wind and emptiness on the street there to greet him.

[guardian wolf]

Rainbow Stables Mechyard
International Zone
Solaris City, Solaris VII
April 22nd, 12:45


Dylan walked off from the hangar, double checked on the installation of the engine. It was nearly complete, and just in time for his next match. The Panther would be a dangerous opponent to be sure, but Dylan intended to make him eat his words, and show the rest of Solaris, that Rainbow was not indeed a pushover stable. Dylan had pulled up the data on his opponent, Devon Roshak. Dylan smiled at the humor he only got, as that was one of the blood names highly sought after in Clan Jade Falcon. It would be definitely a thing to bring him a small comfort. These pilots were good, but nothing compared to the actual pilots of Wolf or Jade Falcon, but never the less, he always counted on them bringing an extra trick or two to the fight. He waited maybe two hours for the finished installation of the engine, and the tech gave an all clear sign that the engine was good to go. The chief tech waltzed over to the Dragoon and smiled. Dylan spoke clearly, in a congratulatory tone.

“Tell you what, I’ll double your payment for finishing this so quickly, and being professional about this. After the match,”

“Well, she’ll run like greased lightning mah friend, so don’t you worry,” he spoke with a smug grin

“If you would, load it up please, and take it to this arena,” Dylan handed him a slip that said the Coliseum, the place of ancient gladiators, and much death.

The tech nodded and walked off, yelling at all the techs to get the machine loaded onto the hauler so that they could get it over there. Dylan watched them initially then went out in front of the hangar, and found a spot, that though it wasn’t secluded like he wished, he could still calm his mind. He sat, and breathed steadily, like his instructors long ago taught him. He cleared his mind of everything, eventually, even blocking out the light, and the noise around him, and all he heard was his heartbeat. Then, wordlessly, his eyes snapped open, and he rose. He then walked down to hail a cab to the Coliseum. He was silent, he was focused, and the only thing that was on his mind, was the single word that pulsed through his mind. Kill. Kill or be killed, that was the way it worked in combat. One simple, simple truth. The cab didn’t take long to get to the Coliseum. When Dylan stepped out, he could already hear the chants, the cheering of the people’s blood lust for death. Dylan clenched his fists. He then took in a steady deep breath, and as he exhaled, unclenched them. He then began to walk towards the holding area for mechs that were coming in. As he walked through, he could smell a mixture of coolant, grease, and burning metal as people tried to make last minute repairs, additions, and other things. The Flea stood undisturbed though, and as Dylan walked towards it, he noticed another pilot next to a Panther. He was underneath some sort of mask, that looked like a respirator. He looked in Dylan’s direction, and once again made the sign of dragging his thumb across his throat. Dylan smiled at him in return, and walked to his machine. He then climbed the ladder up to the cockpit, and strapped in. Then he did his pre-start up check, and everything was normal. He then flicked the start up switch, and the machine purred to life. His computer went through the checklist, radar, weapons, engine. All were nominal, and online. His comlink then came alive as a voice told him to get his Flea in position. Dylan complied, and moved his Flea down the hall, and into his doorway. When it opened, he stepped out onto the field, and the crowd roared. He heard the announcer,

“And in this corner, we have the dark horse from the Dragoons, for his second ever match, THE STALKING WOLF,”

The crowd gave a small applause, but Dylan was paying attention to it. He was focused on the Panther standing across from him.

“And in this corner, we have from the reaches of the Draconis Combine, THE RED DRAGON!!!”

The roar of the crowd was deafening, and Dylan stomped his legs into a battle ready position. The countdown started, 5…4…3…2…1…. The alarm was blaring, and Dylan was already speeding across the ground at his new top speed of 156 kph, now afforded by his new engine. The Panther raised his PPC so it was dead level with Dylan’s cockpit. Time slowed down as it charged, and Dylan did what came naturally. He maneuvered his stick so the he was now bobbing, and then, slammed on the brakes. His Flea went into a slide, as the legs quit moving, and the PPC shot went overhead, barely missing Dylan’s cockpit by meters. Dylan brought his reticule over the mech, and fired his medium lasers. One missed, the other glanced on the free arm of the Panther. Slamming his throttle to full again, Dylan brought the mech out of the slide, its feet at first fighting for traction, when it caught a piece of rubble, and it propelled the mech forward with new speed. The cockpit was now warm, and Dylan made note of it. The Flea charged still toward the Panther, closing the gap, 300, 200, 100, and it braced for impact. Then Dylan jumped to the side, missing the mech. He circled around, and slowed to stop. Cycling his mediums, he once again fired. They pelted the Panther’s back, but the mech turned. It returned fire with its SRM rack, the missiles smashing the armor across his torso. Then the gust of flame went out as Dylan’s flamer poured pure superheated air across the mech. The hand of the mech went reflexively to protect the head, and once again, Dylan was off. He sped down through the rubble, and around one of the giant arches. His cockpit was now uncomfortably hot, and his heat sinks worked to get the excess heat out. The Panther was still pursuing Dylan though. It came around the corner, and Dylan turned just in time to see the missile rack get leveled at his cockpit. Reacting he bashed the arm with his torso, and once again fired his flamer, pouring on the heat to the mech. He pulled the trigger to fire his lasers, and only one went off. His other must have been disabled. The Panther staggered back under the new assault, and before he could get back another hit, Dylan planted a kick into the mech’s hip joint, causing a shower of sparks to fly. The Panther toppled over, but the Panther charged up its PPC, and fired it, at point blank range at Dylan’s Flea. The lightning arced from the gun to Dylan’s Flea, causing several panels to spark and flare. Dylan’s HUD went haywire, so he shut it off. The Panther had apparently fared no better as Dylan could see it sparking all across the hull. Dylan’s Flea was still standing, and he knew that the PPC blast had definitely done a number on its armor, and internals. But still he moved his mech’s foot, and placed it next to the mech. He noticed that the Panther wasn’t moving, and so, he set his mech to power down state and climbed out and down to see what the problem was. He wasn’t about to win because he had an unfair advantage, and when he reached the ground, he ran over to the cockpit hatch of the other pilot. The fact that the mech hadn’t even stirred was now concerning Dylan, which meant the other pilot must have killed himself. Dylan got over to the other mech's cockpit, which was now lying on the ground, and found the window. When he looked inside, he found the other pilot, still alive, but apparently unconscious. He waved out toward the crowd, stands, whoever was watching, trying to get the message across that this man needed help. He then turned and took out his laser pistol, and began cutting through one of the bolts holding the hatch on. By the time he had to switch batteries, the med techs had arrived, along with a stretcher, and a laser drill. Dylan stood aside as the cut the remaining bolt, and just snapped the one Dylan had been working on. They then pulled the pilot out of the cockpit. Dylan helped them load up the man onto the stretcher, and into the ambulance. He then climbed back into his mech, ignoring the crowd, announcer, everyone, as he walked his mech back into the bay, and then shut it down, awaiting the loader to come and get the mech. While he waited, he picked up his communicator, and dialed in David’s number.

“Yeah,” David spoke flatly

“Hey, it’s me,” Dylan replied

“Nice fight, what you need?”

“4 Liters of Danforth Whiskey brought to the Rainbow stables mech hangar, and enough parts to repair this Flea. So bring one of all the major components over, and be discreet about this,"

"Am I not always?"

Dylan then cut the comms and sat back in the command chair of his Flea, and went to sleep.

[Jeremy Hunter]

Solaris VII Hospital
Place correct zone here
Solaris City, Solaris VII
April 22nd, 13:42 (I hope I'm doing that right

Nicky pulled to a stop outside the hospital as the blonde haired girl slowly walked out. Nicky pushed the door open as she approached.
"You ok sweetie?" She called.
Sliding into the car, Izzy nodded. She looked a bit disoriented, but tht was expected; she had a concussion for Zeus's sake.
Driving off, she rested a hand on Izzy's arm. "I'm taking you to my place. No 'Mechs or stables or dancing for you for a bit. No buts."
"B-"
"What did I just say."
Izzy fell silent. She peeked up. "Why are you doing this?"
"Because." The car slowed to a stop at the light, then moved forward quickly as it changed. "I like you. You're cute, nice, and above all, you haven't bullsh**ed me." Nicky sighed, falling silent. In truth, she was lying. She had no clue why she was drawn to this girl, nor why she was helping her so much. Maybe it was pity. Maybe Nicky wanted an excuse to not be alone at home.
Whatever it was, she was helping her.

Nicole Krenshaw's Residence
Civilian Zone-Place-Thing
Solaris City, Solaris VII
April 22nd, 14:55

Finally pulling to a stop outside, Nicky helped Izzy out and into her home. The girl didn't try and resist, so Nicky manuevered her to the bathroom.
"I'll run a bath, ok?"
"A shower is fine..."
"And nothing relaxes a girl like a scented bath."
Giving up, Izzy stood there as the bath was startred. Nicky glanced at her, then took Izzy's hand and pulled her to a room.
"Undress. I'll clean your stuff while you're in the bath. Don't be shy, not like I haven't seen you naked before."
Rewarded with a small smile, Nicky went to check on the bath as Izzy laid her stuff out on the bed.
"How did I end up here?" She said quietly.
She clutched her locket, thankful Sora had made sure it was waterproof.

[Thom Frankfurt]

[[Not much excitement.]]

Old River Road
Slums of the International Zone
Solaris City, Solaris VII
April 22nd, 11:57

"Pull;s over here." The MechWarrior said suddenly, causing Larold to whip his head around and fix 'Ole Scar Face with an incredulous stare.

"Why?" He blurted out as he turned his attention back to the road and swerved narrowly missed a bag lady pushing her shopping cart across the street. Pulling over and stomping on the brake caused the hover car to become awash with misc. litter and old newspapers. With a hiss the car settled down off it's cushion of air and gradually settled down upon the rain slicked asphalt.

"Where you going, DeMarkus?!" The Lyran body guard shouted at his charge as the Capellan opened the door and began walking towards some derelict looking teashop. As an answer the man pointed to the tea joint.

"This isn't exactly the nicest area to catch a cup of Earl Gray, D." Larold muttered to himself while scrambling to double check that his auto pistol's safety was off before stumbling after the gladiator.

"How does Newman get to guard the stripper, while I have to look after this a-hole?" Larold grumbled while hoofing it into the teashop.

***************************************

DeMarkus pushed his way into the teashop with a chuckle as his 'bodyguard' hastily moved to catch up with him. He tried not to notice as some of the nearby patrons stopped their conversations and fixed him with a quee-r stare before continuing on in hushed whispers. But when he reached the bar he was smiling again at the old man, Samuel, wiped out some ancient looking teacups.

"Hello, back again for some more Rubios?" Asked the old tea brewer as a greeting.

"You's acan say dat. I wasa tinking about's getting some an some other stuff. You'sa make gift basketes?" Asked the Capellan while looking over the bar at the exotic assortment of liquors and teas.

"I can, what do you want other than the Red?" Questioned the fossil of a man while arching an eyebrow as the Loki goon took a position at the bar next to D.

"Da Red, some black, green, an white ifs you'sa got it." DeMarkus asked while rubbing his finger against the high polished wood of the bar. "And some of dat whiskey dat Jack wasa downing da other night." The old man nodded before to head off to fetch the requested items. Smiling DeMarkus turned about to look over the shop and appreciate it's quazi-Capellan décor. He was caught off guard as he noticed a few different sets of eyes on him, and he was even more disturbed as an elderly looking Chinese man in a silk Han jacket lifted a cup to him when their eyes met.

"I don't like the looks of this place, Mr. Frankfurt." Stated Larry as he likewise scanned the room. Samuel's canned cough nearly caused them to jump out of their skin. With beet red face the Warlockian turned to survey the old man's handiwork. A nice whicker basket filled with some sort of rustic organic looking stuffing, with a few vacuum sealed envelopes of tea and a couple containers of honey and cream. With a smirk at their unease the old man set a dusty bottle of booze down next to the basket.

"Would you like me to make out a card to your lady friend, Kaylee perhaps?" The old man smiled a defusing smile.

"Nah man, it'sa not for her." DeMarkus countered while handing the man one of the cards with the Nevada Smith's logo...

********************************
St. John's Memorial Hospital
International Zone
Solaris City, Solaris VII
April 22nd, 17:44hrs

Cough, cough, cough...

"You come here to gloat, Capellan?" Min wheezed out in a weak voice as DeMarkus entered the hospital room making him come up short and look upon the man grimly. He then turned towards the door where his chaperone and Min's bodyguard stood sizing one another up with fist drawn and steely glares. It came to him then and there that if thing's went ugly between him and Min that things could dissolve into a bloody mess. But, there was a bright side to that, they were at least already at the hospital.

DeMarkus then looked back to the bedded man and smiled weakly. He then moved over to the man's bedside and sat the package of teas down.

"What's that? Tea?" The man asked disbelief in his voice. "Yeah tea. I'sa thought dat it'd be weird bringing flowers to another dude, so's I'sa got tea." the Capellan responded causing the Kurita warrior to cackle weakly.

You know, Min's not anything like he seemed on vid. He's small... maybe only five feet tall, and not a stone more than what Kay weighs. And so pale...

He took a seat and stared at Min's bandaged body and after a few awkward moments of silence Min spoke. "So, why are you here?"

"Got my's ribs alooked at. One's broke." DeMaruks hiked up the loose shirt he was wearing to reveal several layers of bandaging wrapping around his body. Min laughed weakly again.

"Dat an one of my's stable mates is heres... He's ahad a big fight. Dey had tos cut hims outta his mech, and I'sa tell you dat Urbanmech isa f**ked up." the two of them chuckled for a bit before the awkward silence returned.

"Any chance I can buy my Panther back from you." Min asked suddenly and DeMarkus shook his head 'no.'

"Sorry man. I'sa using it to fix up dat Commando. Den prob gonna sell if off at da auction house. Unless you'sa got da money to's fix up One Eye an pay off Slater." He added.

"Slater? you bought a mech off that old pirate? I tell you what, you return my mech to me I pay off what you owe him and I supply you with whatever you need to fix that Lyran trash your roll in?"

"Tech's already parting out da Panther." Min waved off the answer. "Like your pal Slater, I got a collection of mechs in storage... I WANT my mech back." Min suddenly demanded.
******************************************
The two bantered back and forth for the next hour, but eventually they came to an agreement...

After that DeMarkus visited the room where Jack was and found the man comatose from whatever they were pumping into his IV. So he set the expensive bottle of Scotch down upon his bedside table and made his way back to the Stable with Larold.

Edited by Thom Frankfurt, 27 April 2013 - 01:32 AM.

[Jeremy Hunter]

Nicole Krenshaw's Residence
International Zone
Solaris City, Solaris VII
April 22nd, 15:32

Izzy took a long, long bath. It...ok, it was glorious. Nicky had been right, and Izzy had to admit it.
A scented bath really relaxed her.
As she carefully stood up and watched the bubbles sluice off her body, She remembered one bath with Sora.
Uh. Best not remember. She might get...excited.

Reaching for a towel, she wrapped it around her body and stepped onto the exceedingly fuffy floormat.
"Soft..." She observed as she used another towel to dry her hair off. It had actually been almost a day, and really she felt...better. Not dependant on Sora.
Maybe she could move on a bit easier.

"You didn't drown in there, did you?"
Izzy lightly jumped, landing on the carpet with a soft flump. "No."
"Good. At least get some underwear on, I made you something to eat."
"You didn't have to."
"I know."
Izzy sighed. Drying herself off, she got into underwear and shorts before pushing the door open to reveal the more modest Nicky.
"Ya know, you don't have to pay rent." She joked.
"I'm lazy."
"Fair enough." She led Izzy down the hall into the living room, where simple but hot food waited.
"Just some spiced noodles, nothing fancy. Addedsome chicken for the meat part. You're not a vegetarian, are you?"
"Nope." Izzy sat down on the carpet and dug in without a second thought. Hot, good, and free.
"Really...why are you doing this?"
"Simple."Nicky sat beside her. "It's what friends do."
Izzy did't look up.

Never can stop looking after me, can you, Sora?

Port Arthur
Capital's Outskirts
Draconis Combine
October 13th, 3030

Izzy fired a PPC into another Tank as Sora's Catapult came up from the left.
"Hey Iz, looks like a heavy laser's being moved to flank us. They had a few tanks there so I had to pull back. What the hell is with this? This shoulda been a milk run."
"A milk run is us dancing together at a club."
"Touche. I'll tango you after this."

The two turned and headed for a risky but completely unseen full frontal assault on the heavy laser. PPCs and lasers peppered the team. Tanks fired, knocking Sora off balance, but izzy stepped in, Medium and Small lasers firing.
"Least we have their attention."
"Where the hell is the Aerospace wing we were suppose to hold out for?"
"Pff. Kurita are always late."
"Hey!"
The two broke apart, PPCs melting a hover tank. "What. You were late to last night's dance. I even had candles."
"I was busy."
"Uh-huh."
"Ok, I'm sorry. I got drunk and nearly slept with some *****. Forgive me?"
"Maybe."
The two finally stopped moving, aiming down at the heavy Laser team.
"I think the Aerospace got here."
"Tardy to the party. tsk."

Of course, when the Aerospace started shooting at stuff, it took the duo a moment to realize that about six tanks had surrounded them.
"Well."
"Guess the flyboys got it good."

As a team of riflemen from Port Arthur's capital moved up to secure the prisoners. "Well. Let's hope we get a good pay."
"Hey, we just helped raze some idiots who stole their stuff."
"True." Izzy chuckled. "Let's go."