Steiner Coliseum,
Silesia,
Solaris City, Solaris VII,
April 21st, 15:20 Hours.
Jack's fingers danced on the console, bringing Taysider to life with a cheeky grin on his face. To his delight amongst Solaris' umpteen channels there was one that seemed singularly devoted to those of Scottish descent. Bagpipe music blared through the cockpit and a holographic bagpiper marched on the console, Jack occasionally singing along for a verse or two on the songs he recognised. He walked the Urbanmech out the gate, idly wishing he'd had the mech painted in a tartan.
"Welcome to the Coliseum Mr. Churchill. As this is your first fight, please bear with us while we guide you to your starting position." Crackled the radio beneath the din of the trivid. "Advance your mech thirty metres outside the gate. The gate has an IFF transponder now active so you can measure distance precisely. Do not turn, just follow the guidance strip in the tunnel." Crackled the radio beneath the din of the trivid.
"Aye, ah'll dae that." Jack replied, muting the trivid for the exchange with the coliseum control booth. Daylight streamed into the tunnel as the heavy armoured gates swung outwards. "Advancin’ thirty metres out the gate."
True to the controller's word, the gateframe was targetable. His targetting computer struggled to identify it, the flickering in the corner of his eye causing it to twitch. Jack's smile returned in full form when he marched Taysider out the gate and it settled on 'Jenner JR7-D.' Keeping an eye on the counter, Jack slowed Taysider to a stop and backed up two paces. "Churchill in position control." He said, taking care to keep his accent clear before flicking the trivid back on. Bagpipes once more drowned out the controller as he responded.
"Confirmed Mr. Churchill. Match commentary can be found on FM frequency 137.8. Good luck. Stand by for match start."
Jack smirked as he turned the trivid to the SBC's live feed, currently displaying an ad for Pharoah Beer. Ah don't need the radio with this baby.
A loud double beep announced a new radar contact. Jack targetted it on reflex, his HUD swiftly bracketing the new contact in a red square and marking it with an 'A.' On the left of the visor a smaller A appeared to his surprise, quickly followed by 'COM-1C.' Jack looked back at the red square and saw it bearing the same designation above the run down, rusted-and-white commando it enclosed. The smaller mech was just under 450 metres away when it finished shuffling into it's start position "Oi Dan, did ye do somethin' t'the targetting computer?"
"What?" The tech crackled back after a moment. "No, why? What's wrong with it now?"
"Nathin's wrong, there's just..." Jack cocked his head, frowning with annoyance when the HUD cocked with him. "Like...a roster at the side an' letters on a' the mechs."
"Oh! I got some help fixing the computer from a guy called Maligo. It was his idea. See it assigns a letter to each mech you come into contact with and adds it to the roster. Just need to get a gridlock on it. So when you get a target up again it'll display the letter and you know who it is. Roster at the side gives easy reference for you. It can track up to two dozen targets."
Jack blinked, processing the information. "Would that not be something ye should ask or tell me about before ah enter the arena?"
There was a brief hesitation before Dan meekly replied. "Sorry Jack."
The big mechwarrior sighed and pulled the cork from his whisky again. "It's a good idea. Thanks. Jist...tell me, y'know?"
More beeps broke his train of thought, the rest of his competitors entering the arena. He cycled through them, tagging each and watching their designations appearing on the roster. He shook his head. This was going to take getting used to.
Taysider stood on the south edge of the coliseum, one of the two long sides. It stood directly across from a great Romanesque arch, facing off with it from opposite sides of the moat that ran the length of the arena. 40 metres to his right stood a Firestarter FS9-K, it’s large laser hanging low from it’s right arm, most likely the heaviest weapon on the field apart from his own AC10. It too was in the middle of the edge, facing off with another identical arch and was tagged with a B. Straight ahead through the arch he could see a Locust LCT-1M, 420 metres distant behind a third arch of it's own. The two arches would do a good job of shielding him from the chicken walker's dual LRM-5s and he was well over the sole medium laser’s range that ‘C’ packed to fear it. A had disappeared behind a fourth and final arch.
150 metres to his left and a few metres ahead stood target D, a Locust 1E with 2 mediums and two small lasers. It stood in a triad with targets F, a Javelin 10F, and I, a Locust 3V with two mediums and a pair of machine guns. They were tucked into the corner, arranged in a right angle centred on F where the moat turned, 40 metres away from each other. To his right in a perfect mirror was E, G, and H; a Locust 1S, Commando 3A and Spider 5K. The SRM heavy Locust and Commando were destined to shred the Spider unless it could use it's superior manoeuvrability to jump to safety, mused Jack. He grinned again.
It took only a few minutes to scan each mech, evaluate it and place it in his mental battlespace, his mental picture of the field. The closest thing a mechwarrior could get to eyes and a viewport in the back of his mech. Situational awareness was as much a skill as gunnery or piloting and far more regularly the difference between the victor and a corpse. Within his battlespace, the beast wandered, sniffing at their enemies and playing with them. Bagpipes soared unheard while Jack sat, silently sipping at his whisky beneath a collage of swirling missiles and markers.
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Randalf von Bremen wound a silk scarf round his neck, concealing the love bites Erin had so recently left upon it as he reentered the room the Rainbow Stables had been allocated. Churchill’s technician was the only other occupant; despite the high profile of the fight. “Has he said anything, Dan?”
The tech looked up from the window, still holding the radio. “Just a few comments on the update we did to his HUD. Alphabetic designations on enemies and a roster of them. Maligo said it was a House technique?”
Randy smiled widely. “Indeed it is Dan.” He said, resting a hand on the young tech’s shoulder. “Roster’s new though. Good feature. Can I talk to him?”
“Oh of course,” blushed Dan, hurriedly offering the handset. “Be my guest.”
“Thank you.” Nodded Von Bremen, taking the set and raising it to his lips. “Vicious, got a minute?”
“Aye Bremen, whit is et?”
The Heimdall agent kept his face calm and still while he inwardly seethed. The hair on the inside of his nose prickled as if he really could smell the whisky he knew the pig was guzzling. “Just wanted to wish you luck and see if I could help. These sponsorship fights are quite frenetic.”
There was a bark of laughter. “Help? Ye were planning on jumpin’ in t’fight tae?”
Randalf forced a laugh. “No of course not. Simply the planning stages. Do you have a plan, Jack?”
There was a brief moment of silence before the mechwarrior replied. “COM-1C takes the Locust wan em. Has t’get under it’s missiles before he gets shredded. Locust has to fight the Commando, can’t hold up in a brawl and needs to make hisself space. Ah back aff, don’t engage the Firestarter. Hopefully et’ll go fight them an’ leave me t’go intae the corner left, punch inti’that an’ set up shop. Fae there ah can take whoever wins the dust up at the tap left an’ go from there.”
Randalf blinked. “Very...very good Vicious. Why don’t you talk to the Firestarter?”
There was more silence. “Ah can dae tha’?”
Slowly Von Bremen lowered his head to press it against the window. Not so competent after all. “Yes Vicious, you can do that.”
“Hold that thought.” Crackled the radio, going silent for a second before Jack spoke again. “Unhold that thought. Whit’s the ******’s name?”
“Rowan Rykos. Goes by ‘Lemartes.’” Replied Randalf, trying to remember the man’s file. “Young man. Brash with a family mech. A few minor victories in the lower circuits, he’s looking for a sponsor.”
“Rich b*gger eh? Ah can dae that. Hold again.”
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“Yoo’re Lemartes?” Jack crooned into the mic. “Ai’ve seen all yoor games. It would be an honour to fight with yoo.”
“Excuse me?” Came the startled response from the Firestarter.
“Ai’d like to team up.” Jack racked his brains for memories of the sycophants Hans James had hated so much. “As Ai said, Ai’ve seen all of yor games. Ai know the better warrior when Ai see one and no mistake. Ai’d like to be able to give a good accounting for myself before Ai go down.”
There was a moment’s hesitation. “You’ve been watching my games?”
“Of course, who wouldn’t?” Grinned Jack. Got him. “If Ai may be so bold, if yoo’d allow me, I’ll take the three to our left while you take the Commando and Locust across the way.”
“And meet up to pincer the group in the top corner huh? Good idea.”
“Uh...yes quite.” That’s...mebbe not a sh*t plan. “Do we have an arrangement?”
“Yes we do Mr...?”
“Jack Churchill. Call me Vicious.” Jack took a pull of his whisky.
“The guy who landed on the news van? What happened to your accent?”
“Oh publicity, yoo know what sponsors are like. Whatever they think will bring in the ratings, yoo know? Ai like to clean up the accent when talking to a man of your calibre.” Jack stared at his whisky. What am ah sayin?
“Oh yes, sponsors. Of course.” Mumbled Rykos. Jack leapt on the other man’s effort to save face.
“Why, Ai’m sure they have yoo doing a thing or two yourself for image! But Ai must finish running checks on my mech. See yoo on the other side!”
Jack took another long drink of whisky, savouring the burn. Gods do ah hope no one was recording that.
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“Well, he’s t’work wi’me.” Jack’s butchered accent came back over the speakers. “Bloody poof. Still, if he’s able to keep ‘em off my side, s’all good.”
Von Bremen’s hand was tight clamped on Dan’s shoulder, maintaining eye contact with the young tech. “That’s good to hear Jack. Have you been listening to the commentator at all?”
“Nah, how? Anythin’ interestin’?” Man’s accent has gotten even worse!
“Nothing of consequence. I’d be careful with the Javelin on your left. Seems he might be the most dangerous of the group. Experience in the CCAF.”
“Oh a chinky then? Right y’are then, boss. Ah’ll drop him first.”
Von Bremen put the radio down on the desk. “Man seems positively cheerful to have a hard fight.”
Dan glared back up at him. “Why didn’t you tell him? He should know!”
The recruitment officer looked down at him with cold eyes. “Right now Jack believes he can take anyone in that arena. He’s overconfident, but not stupid and that can lead to amazing things. Exactly how long do you think that would last if he found out he was fighting a lance of Death Commandos?” He looked out over the arena at the two green banded, black as midnight mechs he could see. “Better he fights in ignorance for as long as possible before they drop him. He might get some of the others.”
Dan’s face went white. “Death Commandos?”
Randalf shrugged. “With that paint scheme? What else could they be?”
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As the final seconds counted down, Jack switched the trivid to show the match, gazing at a green banded black Raven sporting the odd double viewport of a double cockpit. The mech positively gleamed, it’s perfect paint scheme obviously sporting layers of enamel. Jack scratched his beard happily, letting the anticipation well up inside him. “Ah’m gonnae scratch you a time or twa an’ no mistake.”
The commentator was prattling on about how it looked like a fine match was in the making, many new up and comers of much promise looking for sponsorship and entrance into a stable when three things happened at once. The first was Jack bursting out laughing when he realized Von Bremen had actually signed him up as a freelancer, explaining how the Rainbow Stables had gotten a pilot into a tier 1 arena. His laughter trailed off when he realized the trivid was showing nothing but static. “Ach come oan!” The fat Lyran exclaimed. “They block the trivid?” He began to feel the fool, obviously they blocked the trivid signal or else everyone would do it. Around the arena horns burst into life while Jack was fiddling with the radio, trying to get the commentator online, timing down for the match start. “Ah come oan!” He roared, swiping the trivid off the console. A final horn blared and Heather quickly spoke:
“Incoming missiles.”
“OH COME OAN!” Jack screamed, furiously slapping the throttle to full and pressing down on the pedals to stir Taysider into motion. The Urbanmech lumbered into a run in a heavy turn to the left. Still fiddling one handed with the radio dial, Jack grabbed at the right joystick and began tracking the turret round at the insolent Locust ‘C’ that had lobbed the blind volley of missiles at him. His first shot of the match rocketed over the little bug of a mech as it dipped safely into the moat, impacting off the famous forcefields that protected the spectators and walls of the coliseum in a brilliant haze of light and fire. ‘Lemartes’ was meanwhile pushing across to fight A, spearing the unsuspecting mech with a full beam from his large laser.
The arena was already a deafening crash of weapons fire and impact noise. A horn sounded quickly and ‘Target I: Spider 5K’ went dark on his HUD. C’s volley of lrms sailed past the Taysider and tore pockmarks in-
“-the sands of Silesia! What a kill folks,” Jack’s radio burst into life, finally finding the right frequency. “Charlie Kutcher didn’t stand a chance. Looks like he knew he needed to dodge those SRMs but his opponents were ready for him! I’m watching the replay here folks and those little spider legs just don’t exist anymore! First kill of the match goes to the Capellans!”
Jack growled, the beast straining at his mind’s leash while he pushed Taysider into the moat. The deep blue waters immediately turned to mud beneath it’s steps, matching the dark blue-brown Dan had painted the mech from the turret ring down just enough to mask the legs. It’s turret swung round, kissing the water and the beast’s hackles went up when it spotted it’s prey pan into view. The Javelin was roaring through the air, jets burning surprisingly clear of smoke and giving it’s enamelled green banded armour an ethereal blue sheen. Green medium lasers lit up it’s front in contrast, firing in cross pairs into the torso of the Locust 1E. The 1E was taking machine gun fire from the other Locust in the trio and was trying in vain to hit the greater threat of the Javelin. It’s own lasers lashed out in a brilliant alpha strike that passed helplessly beneath the soaring mech.
Taysider took a sultry step up the embankment on the far side of the moat, teasing the Beast, slowly easing it’s turret into view. The Javelin touched down, flexing it’s knees and absorbing the impact lightly. It immediately sprung back into the air, still chaining it’s lasers into the rapidly disintegrating 1E tagged on Jack’s HUD as Delta. The Beast caressed the joystick, rubbing a thumb over the firing stud and swinging the turret round, the big autocannon gently angling to just above a perfect horizontal to point at empty air. The match’s commentator babbled on enthusiastically, only half heard about the amazing performance of the Commandos. The beast labelled the Lyran made mechs a threat as an afterthought, moving Jack’s hands across the little Urbie’s controls, getting everything just right. Delta’s left torso came away, speared by emeralds and surrounded by sparks, smoke and fire, it’s shining assailant nearing the end of it’s arc. The Beast pressed hard on the firing stud, panting with anticipation. The Javelin landed, flexing it’s knees. Taysider’s 90mm shell took it on the edge of the joint, blasting armour from the mech and sending it’s carefully directed momentum lurching away on a parallel. The black and green mech fell heavily on it’s side and disappearing beneath a dust cloud. Immediately the two Locusts set upon it, piercing the haze with lasers and tracer.
Jack grinned widely, nudging Taysider into reverse and pressing down on the rudder to have it now turn left. The Urbanmech continued towards the corner of the moat, legs facing back the way it had come, turret rotating back towards the Javelin now trying to stand. The Beast coupled Taysider’s small laser with the lightstorm from the two Locusts, smearing burnt scorch marks into it’s enamelled carcass. The Javelin rocketed into the air once more but Indigo’s tracer abruptly ended it’s graceful escape even as it turned to face it’s assailants. Both jumpjet’s in the stricken leg popped, shredding the unarmoured leg and venting plasma sent it tumbling off. The Javelin landed poorly on the lip of the trench on it’s remaining leg, tumbling backwards into the moat with a crash.
But Jack was oblivious to the results of it’s fall, the beast sending Taysider whirling back to face the two Locusts as they rushed for the kill the instant it saw the Javelin’s leg explode. The Urbanmech’s jets set it rising out of the trench. A swift alpha tore through what was left of Delta, sending it’s cockpit tumbling into the dirt before the still running body of the shattered mech and a horn blared. Dust clouded the air as it slammed to one knee on the landing, bullets from Indigo sailing harmlessly above. Jack pushed back onto his feet, reversing, two green beams passing in front of his viewport. His return volley missed the skipping Locust, but not the kick he lashed out with. Both mechs tripped and fell, the Beast rolling the fat Urbanmech on top of Indigo. The Urbanmech struggled to pin the Locust to the ground backwards. It’s legs were at an angle to it’s body and unable to gain any purchase, the 30 tonne Urbanmech staying in the armless wresting match by weight alone. Jack pulled both feet from their near useless scrabbling on the ground and triggered Taysider’s torso jump jet. Indigo was smashed flat to the ground again while his assailant swivelled it’s legs round just enough to catch its footing. Jack roared loudly, slapping the mech’s left foot flat on the ground and wrenching the Urbie upright. Indigo too began to right itself, pressing it’s spur of a torso against the dirt for leverage. Another horn sounded through the arena as Jack turned Taysider back to face the Locust. Too tight in to get a comfortable shot with the AC, Jack booted it right in the *rse and pressed down hard on it again. Bending over, he tracked the turret round and began m*lesting the chicken walker’s rear with his small laser.
Indigo bucked and wrenched beneath him and the Beast rose again, it’s eagerness to kill swelling deliciously once more. It eclipsed the tiredness of last night’s hangover, today’s hair of the dog and the implacable anger of battle. Jack waxed happy on the force of it, armour melting away to show precious metal bones, fragile wires and capacitors. The commentator continued babbling in his ear, now focusing on him.
“Mad Jack Churchill is really showing how he got his name in the South-West corner, making his first kill on young Archer Reynolds and taking Daniel Li out of the fight. With some furious melee he’s forced Ralph Douglas to the ground and is burning a hole in his backside-“
Indigo – Douglas – cut the announcer off, the Locust’s flailing legs catching at it’s assailant’s kneecap. Taysider turned abruptly, buckling to one knee and was quickly overturned by the frantic Locust. Tracer pattered brightly from his armour and an electric green beam played over his viewport and Jack swore violently. “That’s it, ah’m gonnae find oot if yer back f*nny can untie laces!”
While the commentator kept up his tirade the Beast launched Taysider through the air and over the backpedalling mech, splaying it’s legs to land facing it. Landing roughly, the Urbanmech lashed out and kicked the Locust through it’s unarmoured rear and gyro. The gyro died violently, spewing chunks of metal and armour through the air before finally quitting. A horn blared and the excited commentator gushed about Jack’s second kill.
Jack turned to face the fight in the North-West corner, ready to target the remaining mechs but Taysider bucked viciously against him. Turning back, Jack found the Urbanmech’s foot still planted in the wreck of the Locust. Frowning and somewhat perplexed, he tried to pull the foot free and found it would barely budge.
“Well et cannae untie laces but et can bloody tie knots.” Grumbled Jack, wrestling with the controls and trying to wrest the limb free. Another horn blared.
“The double team of Kuang Komarovska and Sheng-Ling Badawi have downed their second mech for the match and it looks like they’re setting their sights on Mad Jack and his Urbanmech for their next!”
“Wait whit?” Jack pivoted the Urbanmech to see the enamelled Raven heading his way from the north, targeting it to get the HUD to recognise it. It showed a patchwork of yellow and orange down it’s right side, two medium lasers and an SRM-6 for weapons, just over 300 metres of distance and a red ‘J.’ It’s lasers lashed out, scoring a pair of glancing hits while he wrestled with the dead weight of Ralph Douglas’ Locust. Knowing he had until the lasers recycled, Jack held still and squeezed off an autocannon shell. The Raven smoothly duked out of the way and continued closing.
“F*ck.” Jack grimaced, taking a quick swig of whisky and resumed struggling. He could see now that the shredded gyro had torn into the armour on the Urbanmech’s foot and the tangle of metal was locked tight. He pulled the free foot off the ground, falling backwards and wrenching at the shredded tangle. The sudden move kept the Raven’s second salvo from scoring a solid hit, hissing angrily across the falling bulk. Jack tried to pull Taysider upright once more but the unwanted counterweight pulled him over instead.
“It looks like Churchill is in trouble now, he seems to have got his foot caught in Ralph Douglas’ mech. Douglas is still in there, unable to get out safely until Churchill breaks free –“
Jack swore again. Of course Douglas was still in his mech. If he ejected at this angle he’d smear himself over the arena floor and only an ***** would get out his cockpit with his attacker looming above him. More complications.
A fan of SRMs announced the Raven was seriously closing in, swirling over his left side. An attempt at a quick one-two with his own weapons saw the Raven take a weak small laser hit at it’s max range an instant before Jack’s HUD began to break up. Belatedly he remembered DeMarkus’ notes on it’s EW equipment. Having struggled Taysider back to it’s feet he fired an alpha at the onrushing foe, scoring another mild laser hit but missing with the autocannon.
“Augh! F*ck this!” Furious, Jack triggered the mech’s jump jets and launched into the air, Locust and all. The dead weight lifted for a moment, pulling the Urbanmech back for an instant before it tore the Urbie’s foot off with a shriek of tortured metal and fell back into the dirt. Only travelling a dozen metres, Taysider landed painfully, collapsing on it’s maimed leg and rolling into the moat. Adding insult to injury, paired medium lasers began chaining into the mech from the crippled Javelin, having now pulled itself to shore. Diffused by the muddy water, their effect was lessened but was still enough to swiftly drop the armour levels of the stricken Urbanmech’s cannon arm and right torso to a deep orange.
Gritting his teeth, fighting the Beast, Jack planted his torn leg into the mud as he stood and punched an AC round through it’s torso. It continued firing, burning off more armour from his left when he tried to shield his weaker and more valuable side. SRMs slammed into his rear armour and good leg and signalled the arrival of the Raven. The Beast viciously tore the mech to the left, lining another shot up on the Javelin just in time to see it engulfed in flame.
Twin small lasers finished the Javelin to the blaring report of a horn and a brilliant azure beam burned a hole in the right torso of the surprised Raven. ‘Lemartes’ Rykos’ Firestarter ran across the lip of the trench, firing into the two midnight mechs. “Got y-shh-r bbb-k Jack, le-phir-t’s fin-eee-him.” Rykos’ tense voice warbling distortedly from Jack’s speaker was a glad interruption.
He slapped at his external speakers. “Ye’ve a pair o’ faces like a half-healed bawbag that unnerwent a vasectomy fae a paraplegic exwife!” He taunted the Raven pilots, hoping the Capellans would turn back to face him.
And they did. Swivelling the nimble mech’s turret back to face him skylined it beautifully on the rim of the trench and at under sixty metres he couldn’t miss. The 90mm slug punched through the SRM launcher and set off it’s payload, the sympathetic explosions rending the connection to the arm asunder. It bounced limply from the wounded mech as it ran into the trench, slowing to a halt as it’s pilots realized their weapons were gone. It’s cockpit popped and one of the pilots fired off a flare to mark their surrender. The Raven powered down, suddenly restoring Jack’s HUD to a bearable state and another horn sounded through the arena.
“And ah will not miss them, ye fannies.” Jack turned off the external speakers. “Lemartes ye beautiful b*stard, ah could kiss ye.”
“I’d rather you didn’t, thank you.” Replied Rykos. Facing the Firestarter, Jack could see it had been painted like a Roman soldier, bronze plated head and chest pitted with small pockmarks and burnt lines. “We still have two of those Cappellans left and another Urbanmech over on the North-East. The 60L variant with the AC20. Cappies are circling it from range, we should move fast.”
Jack laughed, taking another swig of whisky. “Ah’ve nae foot man and this thing isn’t fast at the best of times.” He began trying to limp Taysider to the lip of the moat. “Listen, ah’ll get near the lip and start sniping if y’can lure them across t’ye. Use yon large laser to drag ‘em.”
“And let you take all the glory?” Rykos snapped back.
“Glory?” Jack shook his head in bewilderment. “Ah might get the win, but there’s small glory in hiding in a trench taking potshots while you duel with ‘em.” Another horn blared. “Et’s that or start shooting each ither now because if’n they are double teamin’ then that was probably them taking the ither lad out.”
“Fine.” The Firestarter turned and began marching out the moat, laser raised and ready. “But don’t miss. Whoever these guys are they’re good and they are not fighting a free for all.”
Jack limped Taysider towards the edge of the moat impatiently, soon hearing weapons fire as the mechs in the centre opened fire on each other.
“Hurry Churchill!”
He managed to poke the Urbie’s head over the rim and saw two more green banded black mechs tearing into Lemartes’ Firestarter, a Commando and a one armed Panther. “Are these f*ckers here as a team?” Jack popped a shot off at the wounded Panther, missing cleanly.
“What does it look like!” Retorted Lemartes. “Focus on the Commando!”
The Firestarter was quickly disintegrating, losing it’s large laser to an SRM volley from the panther. Lemartes had barely the time to scratch at the Commando with his small lasers before it took those off with a double barrage of SRM-6s. The Panther took one of his legs next, closing in to kick him over. Jack clipped the Commando’s left leg with the AC and swore loudly as a flare rose from the Firestarter and a horn sounded.
“Stay in there.” He growled, lining up another shot at the Commando. It was pitted and scored, it’s already weak armour down in the reds and orange on his display. The Beast took the controls, locking the cannon over the little mech’s groin and violently pressed the firing stud.
The shot went wide, the Cappellan dodging artfully to one side. The commentator was back in Jack’s ear, prattling away about the display of skill. A hairy fist punched it off. A medium laser from the Commando burned square into his left torso, stripping the last of it’s armour and damaging the internal structure.
“Blow this.” Jack forced the Urbanmech into the air, aiming backwards to try and put some additional distance between himself and the inevitable wall of SRMs. It didn’t help.
Both black mechs fired at once, nearly to the second. Swirling rockets pattered all over Taysider, shredding it’s remaining armour and tearing the left torso clean off. It landed surprisingly well for all that, maimed leg taking a knee, left leg coiled to take the impact, landing in a perfect firing crouch. This time the autocannon struck true, tearing off the Commando’s right torso and arm. Lurching into the air again, Jack barely dodged the return volley. Landing between the two mech’s, he slapped the throttle into reverse to try and stay between them. Close in, under twenty metres, he punched a hole through the Panther to a blaring horn. Time seemed to slow as he turned to face the Commando, the wounded mech panning into view behind a hail of missiles. They blasted chunks from Taysider and Jack burst into a smile of relief when he realized he was still standing. He swung the cannon over the black mech, pressed the firing stud and waited to hear the horn.
He was met only with silence. His eyes drifted angrily over the display of his own mech, at the red and black internal structure indicators and black weapons readout. He was weaponless.
The Commando pilot could clearly tell. It slowed to a stop and turned to face him. He limped Taysider grimly round to do the same. An accented voice crackled over his radio. “You have fought well Mistah Churchill. If you wish to surrendah, I will allow you to retire yo mech from the field.”
"Dae ah want to whit? Surryendar?" Jack shook his head in disbelief, taking a big swig of whisky and swirling it around his mouth while he considered his response. "Nah son, ah think that's ane o' yon things other buggers do." With that, he swung Taysider's weight around, using it's crippled leg as a counterweight to skip the unwieldly Urbanmech forwards slightly and triggered it's remaining jumpjet, lobbing the Urbie forward. His opponent desperately tried to take aim as the one legged, crippled trashcan from hell careened haphazardly towards him.
Edited by RogueSpear, 21 May 2013 - 04:06 AM.
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