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Life and Death: A Mechwarrior's Tale RP


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#401 ZeProme

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Posted 19 May 2013 - 07:58 PM

Note: I hope I won't be a burdensome to anyone since I'm pretty new to the lore of this game. I might make some mistakes with the plot and settings, please correct me as I steadily learn the lore and contribute my character's story. Many thanks.

Waste Land, Alectro (Planet. Don't know if it exists.)
Free Worlds League, Sector 722X (Completely made up, I can change if this is not allowed)
April 23, 3031 6:22 Hrs

"Yer hurry up already will yer?" jeered the Commander.

"I'm trying, but my Centurion isn't fully repaired. It's armaments is functional but it's engine still needs a bit of maintenance."

"Yer should have stayed back at base!" blurt the Commander.

"Commander, as I have said before, I don't want to leave you guys hangin'. It's better to have an extra mech that can fight. --"

"Yer yeah. I know. Just hurry up."

Rocks are littered everywhere on the tundra with mountainous areas in every direction. Debris can be seen everywhere as reminiscences of previous mechs were fought on this unforgiving landscape. Five mechs speared the assault as a Centurion slightly lags behind. Davier Sipedon, the pilot of the Centurion, checks the status of his mech. The side monitor to his right displays information.

Weaponry: Green

Hull Armor: Green

Engine: Orange

Sensory: Green

"Come on Centy! Don't be a scrap metal!" shouted Davier as he throws a tantrum. He slams his fists onto the nearby shoulder rest.

His Centurion, a model CN9-A was found on the outskirts of the battlefield, some three hundred kilometers away from the freedom fighter's hidden base. It was barely operational but still intact. Davier, while studying the mech, history of the battlefield, learns about the mech and fits it with remaining parts scattered everywhere on the one-hundred kilometer radius battlefield.

His Centurion has it's lower arm actuator removed to fit the AC/20 is a diamond in the rough. It's also fitted with two medium lasers, 2 LRM 5 and 1 SRM 4. (Subject to change if it conflicts with it's weight limit.)

All weapons are green as shown on Davier's left monitor.

As the five mechs ahead of the CN9-A, about a kilometer away, crests the hill, they stop. The commander promptly speaks.

"Alright, we are getting close to the outlaw's hideout. You two Cataphracts, get around the crystallized rocks on the right side."

The two Cataphracts steps back slowly down the crested terrain and turns to the right. They begin walking towards their destination.

"Hunchbacks, follow me. We are going to crest over the hill. Wait until the Cataphracts checks the right side."

The Hunchbacks stand ready as the Cataphracts turns around the crystallized rock formation.

"Clear right." said the right Cataphract.

"Clear left"--

A gauss rifle is heard being fired from a distance. One of the Cataphracts was hit hard as it's right arm crumbles and falls to the ground due to the impact of the firepower.

"I'm hit! I'm hit!" screamed the damaged Cataphract pilot.

"Where is it?"

"I believe 3 o'clock to our position! I'm falling bac--"

Another shot was heard being fired.

"I'm hit again! This time really hard!"

"Johnny, get back!" barked the other Cataphract.

The Cataphract has it's right leg crippled. It staggers to stand. An AC/20 round struck into it's right ankle.

"All mechs back up and fall behind the crystallized formation!" ordered the commander.

The main force of the group begins to retreat and consolidate near the designated location. Unfortunately, the damaged Cataphract is struggling to shift it's legs backward. The right leg suffered a massive damage to it's ankle, rendering it unable to lift the leg backwards.

"Damn this mech." barked Johnny.

"Incoming missiles" barked the computer.

"Oh for f^&* sakes."

The missiles crests from over the rocky formation a far and propels itself in two groups of twenties toward's Johnny's mech. Johnny, struggling to move his mech despite levering the joystick on his right backwards, fails to move the Cataphract. The Cataphract creeks, unable to move.

The missiles hit severely damaging the cataphract as it tips backwards. The Cataphract slams hard on it's back as it slides down the slopy hill.

"I can't move my mech anymore. It's dead, done deal." barked Johnny.

Davier arrives just in time and moves in with the group.

"Damn it. It's an ambush." responded the Commander.

"What do we do now?" asked one of the Hunchback pilots.

For a moment, there was silence as a far, the enemy mechs begins mobilizing. The enemies step ever closer to the cautious Lance formation.

What do we do? Davier wonders as he starts to sweat under the pressure of dying.

Edited by ZeProme, 19 May 2013 - 08:49 PM.


#402 RogueSpear

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Posted 21 May 2013 - 04:05 AM

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.

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

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.”

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

“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.

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

“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?”

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

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.


#403 RogueSpear

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Posted 28 May 2013 - 07:05 PM

International Zone
Solaris City, Solaris VII
April 22nd, 11:36

Dan kicked a can across the street in frustration. He'd been wandering round every dealer he knew trying to find parts for Taysider to next to no avail. Urbanmechs were one of the most common mechs ever produced anywhere ever. On any other planet in the Sphere he could have found the parts in minutes, but noooo. Not on Solaris VII. Urbanmechs weren't glorious enough so no one bought them. So no one had any parts for them either.

The crash of a door slamming open shook him from his reverie. A short fat man in an overcoat and bandana stormed out of Champ's Bar, roughly brushing him aside.

"Hey! Watch where you're going jerko-Rick?" Dan clapped the other tech's arm and tried to pull him into a bear hug. "Boy am I glad to see you!"

Rick's face went from cross to almost a glow, and a satisfied grin crossed his face. Rick's wide frame was embraced and recipricated in an almost sudo-sumo match where both were trying to pick the other off the ground, a show of strength between two men who have been lifting armour plates, releasing just before it got akward. Dispite his girth however, it was clear Rick was going to lose that competition.

"Dan, I couldn't tell ya how good it is to see you." Rick put his hand on Dan's shoulder, clearly showing signs of intoxication as he used him to stand up right.

"Listen, I need your help. You see the sponsorship match in the Coliseum yesterday? With Mad Jack Churchill? Yeah, I have to try and put that Urbie back together."

"You're kidding me right?" The specs of Urbanmech's filled Rick's head and he fluttered through mental notes and assessment.

"That ram punched his cockpit through the engine block. Fried his console and blew that, so he's in hospital getting treated for radiation and burns, plus a hefty concussion, scrapes, bruises and the like. Fractured arm to boot. So he's gonna be in there for a while. Which is good for me 'cos otherwise I wouldn't have the time to order parts from offworld. I can't find a single place round here that has proper parts for an Urbie! Not a single Leenex 60 engine or the gyro. Speaking of the gyro..." Dan groaned and ran a hand through his hair. "Engine block got half punted through that by the cockpit, and tore it loose. Cracked the axle holding the legs together and snapped the myomer to boot. And that's leaving aside trying to repair the skeleton and finding new arms, fixing the legs...I'm out of my element man. I could really use your help and the Rainbow Stables pay much better than those other d*cks. What do you say?" Dan grinned nervously.

"Yea... I think I know why you'd have such a hard time finding parts. That being said, maybe you're looking into the wrong places. Mechbays are holding mechs that preform 'well' in a dueling enviroment. Urbie is a mech for the dumb and desperate, so you'd probably be looking at Customs and Aquisitions. GM parts probably, just more universal of a suit. Still, Gyro and Engine, you may as well ask if I have a spare heart and lungs for sale." Pausing for a moment, Rick gave it some thought. "Engine we can replace with something lighter, it's flexable, but a Gyro, if we're gonna get to work on that we need a machine shop that can start fabrication. It's one thing to bend a few pistons and get some myomer, it's another to work on a mathmaticly perfect balance."
A chance to work again. It wasn't glorious, and clearly 'Mad' Jack wasn't Rick's kind of person, brash and wreckless, but the money was something he couldn't pass up. A chance to get inside and gut some mechs. He really did miss that dirt under his nails and the smell of solvant hand-cleaner mixing with grease. It was odd that it was the first thing that came to mind, but it just seemed to brighten the mood more for him.
"Rainbow Stables. Who names these guys nowadays anyway? Alright Dan, ya got a deal. But if we're gonna do this, we're gonna do this right. Even an Urbie doesn't crumple like that unless there's some structure problems, and unless this 'Mad Jack' wants another ride inside a beer can, we're gonna be working from the ground up. Well, the good news is it's an easy checklist to know what's wrong..."

Dan visibly sagged with relief. "Thank Christ for that." He pulled Rick's arm over his shoulders and began guiding the other man. "Let's get back to the Stable and let you have a look at it, huh? Then we can really get down to nuts and bolts"

#404 Thom Frankfurt

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Posted 01 June 2013 - 12:06 PM

[2000th post!!! Oh my...]

Rainbow Stables
International Zone
Solaris City, Solaris VII
April 22nd, 20:04hrs

"Kaywinnet Lee Frye, please report to the office... Kaywinnet Lee Frye, please report to the office."

Kaylee looked up from where stripping the wiring for the Panther's PPC and stared at the technician office's ferro-glassed windows. Confused she cocked her head to the side, then tossed her wire strippers into her pink tool chest and made her way towards the office wondering what Grease-ball-Randal wanted. Pushing her way in she put her hands into her pockets and tried not to smile at Randal's black eye.

"What's up?" Kay asked, rolling back on her heels.

"That Capellan of your's is on the landline. Try not to take long, we're expecting a call from the mechspace." the master tech stated while point to the archaic looking receiver on the desk. With trepidation, Kaylee took up the phone.

"Hello?" She asked.

"Kay. Hey's I'sa need you's to astop aworking on da Panther an aget ita ready for transport, all of it'sa parts too." DeMarkus simply stated, his outlandish accent seemed to be heightened by coming through the receiver.

"Mar, I just about got the particle cannon stripped down, what's going on?" The techygirl asked in a whiney voice, to which there was a slight pause. "Mar? you there?" Randal gave her a dirty look.

"Oh's I'msa here. Hey, I'sa can't say wat's going on. Have da Panther aready for transport ASAP, por favor? I'lls be home soon to help out and we'sa talk den. Hey's I'sa gotta go, da nurse is giving me a dirty look." The Warlock added.

"Yeah, Randal is giving me a look like that too. And if he doesn't stop it I'm going to stab him in the face with a soldering iron... Alright Mar I'll see you when you get back, bye." Kaylee then smiled in what she thought/hoped was a wicked manner at Randal and hung up the phone.

"Soldering iron eh?" Randal asked, with another tech chuckling in the corner of the small office. "I'd like to see you try, b*tch." The grease ball pushed his chair back and stood abruptly, flexing his muscles and poofing himself up like a animal.

"Sit down, Randal. Look, I don't know what I ever did to cross you, but I'm sorry. I'm just getting tired of this attitude of yours and I don't have time for your bullshrimp anymore. I'm going now, oh and remember my man can and will do if you cross me." She made her face and left the office in silence, leaving the verbally whipped Randal dumbfounded.

"You know she's right." said Kevin breaking the awkward silence. "That ole man of her's almost beat Big Jim to death with his bare fist. He had to be rushed off to St. John's.." Kevin added.

Edited by Thom Frankfurt, 03 August 2013 - 10:34 PM.


#405 Thom Frankfurt

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Posted 04 August 2013 - 02:48 AM

Rainbow Stables
International Zone
Solaris City, Solaris VII
April 23rd, 5:47hrs

Bleary eyed, exhausted, and slightly drug addled, DeMarkus sat upon a heat sink staring through the open roll up door watching the early morning businesses and delivery services make their rounds. Grocer's mostly, but every once in awhile a part truck would speed by on it's way towards the Solarian Mechyards. He frowned as one heavy flatbed rattled by with a heavy autocannon strapped down and took another sip from the flask. An equally exhausted Kaylee sat next to him, lightly rubbing his back.

"Good morning, Mr. Frank- err, DeMarkus. Lisa told me you wished to speak to me?" Von Bremen offered by way of greeting. D clicked his tongue against his cheek trying to remember what it was he wanted to talk to the toe headed Lyran about. "Uhh..." D looked about in a near panic with his eyes finally settling in on Bertie's shot up Enforcer. His eyes then settled back in on the immaculately dressed man in the suit jacket over a blue and white striped turtle neck that almost covered up the series of love bites from his latest root with Erin.

"Oh yeahs. Hey's Randy, I's wasa tinking, since we's alike doing teams maybe we'sa should be brainstorming's before our matches. You know's eight or uh, six eyes mighta see something dat two's won't. An maybe's have one of da spare rooms converted over for us tos alook over footage on da arenas an out enemies fights..." DeMarkus blurted out rapid fire Von Bremen arched a blonde eyebrow.

"You've been drinking? Being drunk is something I would expect from Mr. Churchill, but not you." He added with an very slight edge in his voice. "I'll see what I can do. But I'd think that the vidcaster in your dormitory would suffice for the battle footage and the common area in your dorm would work for the meetings though." The spook replied, DeMarkus quickly countered.

"So you's be ables ta gives us da infos on da arenas, our opponents, maps, battle footage?" The Warlockian took a sip from the flask and grimaced as the vodka burned it's way down. "Certainly." Von Bremen stated simply, he then nodded his head toward the MechWarrior. "I understand you went to the hospital yesterday. Did you get yourself checked out or did you just visit Jack?"

"Nah I'sa got a check up too. I'sa got a broken rib. Dis ere," he fished out the shorn off bolt from his pocket. "Is da culprit." DeMarkus chuckled drunkenly then became serious suddenly. "Oh yeah's an I's awatched Walker's fight. I's wasa wondering if you's gonna start havin us fight in groups or lances now dat so we's don't get ganged up on again. Dat was bullshrimp!" DeMarkus was still angry about the P. Hawk and S. Hawk grouping up on everyone then settling their fight with miniscule damage to one another. The thought of ringing/cheating chafed at the MechWarrior.

"Well we'll do what we can, but it'll be tricky until you all your mechs and bodies are patched up." Von Bremen looked over he assorted mechs in the yard noticing the Panther strapped down on the mechhauler. "Speaking of patching up, how long till you and your Commando are ready to fight? Erin is being very ambient about you mechjocks getting some fights under your belt, she's scheduling a bunch of fights against some of the more established stables here... and really putting pressure on me about it." Randolph hiked up this collar to cover the bite marks as he finished.

"Doc saysa six weeks, but I's acan fight as soon asa 'One Eye' is fixed." DeMarkus slurred to the Lyran's question. "But gonna have ta work on da customizations first." He added on.

"Customizations?" Von Bremen looked over the handless, patch worked, eye swore, and wondered why the Capellan didn't sell the POS off at the auction house. "Fine. You have six weeks... what are you going to do to customize the mech, attach a hook where it's hand used to be?" He chuckled for a bit but stopped upon seeing the thoughtful look and nod that DeMarkus gave him.

"Temptings, but we'sa were tinking about strapping a particle cannon on it, but now's dat you'sa said dat I'msa tinking 'bout it." He cast a sideways glance at Kaylee upon saying that and she facepalmed.

Further dialogue was cut off as a flatbed truck pulled up out front of the stable building, upon it's bed several large lumps of canvas covered cargo. With an evil hiss it's air brake engaged and a short squat Asian man hopped out, grease splattered and coolant stained jumpsuit clad with the smokey black hand insignia of Black Hand Stables emblazoned high upon it's breast.

"What in the name of Kerensky is he doing here!" Randolph roared out. DeMarkus got up from where he was sitting and rested a hand upon the Lyran's shoulder.

"Relax man, when I's was in St. John's I'sa visited Min an we'sa made a deal." The Loki agent whirled upon the Capellan and rewarded him with an incredulous look. "What kind of deal?"

"A deal, deal." The MechWarrior smirked and left Randolph standing there dumbfounded. "A deal, deal?"

"That's all he'd tell me when I asked too, so don't feel bad." Kaylee added in with a tired voice.

Edited by Thom Frankfurt, 04 August 2013 - 10:37 PM.


#406 Sparks Murphey

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Posted 08 August 2013 - 11:48 PM

Rainbow Stables
International Zone
Solaris City, Solaris VII
April 22nd, 09:35hrs

Heather had barely spoken to him. Their morning breakfast conversation had been a series of grunts and mehs from her, and Bertie wasn’t particularly inclined to offer much more himself. Yesterday’s defeat was still bitter, and Heather was obviously disappointed too. He wanted to tell her that that was life, that you didn’t always win, that it was how you dealt with failure that was important, but the words didn’t come, and he wasn’t sure he believed them himself.

Instead, Bertie went to his Enforcer.

The metal behemoth stood in its bay, its red paint blackened and chipped from its ordeal. Green coolant stained the right leg and torso, like blood spilt from the wounds Tsuji had cut with her Phoenix Hawk. He’d seen it worse. Heck, on Yangtze, both legs had been severed and he’d had to crawl back to get support, a challenge in a BattleMech with no hands. Somehow, this damage hurt more, though.

With a sigh, Bertie started a fresh inspection of the machine, cataloguing the splintered armour and broken parts that would need repairing or replacing. He started at the bottom and worked his way up, so it wasn’t until half an hour later that he found the postcard tucked under the sole surviving windscreen wiper blade.

The front bore a still from yesterday’s fight. Someone in the marketing world was working fast. His Enforcer was captured in mid-air, bright beams of energy lancing into Aaron Yi’s fallen Assassin, its missile bins frozen in mid explosion. Across the bottom in a bold font were the words: “Solaris Outsiders #585: Firestorm Walker”. Bertie flipped the card over, and found on the reverse, in lazy, tilted red ink, “Your legend begins. What will you do with it? -Rei”

#407 Thom Frankfurt

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Posted 10 August 2013 - 02:19 AM

[[Note: This is to be the final IC posting here. I'm planning of doing a soft reboot and moving time forward.]]


Rainbow Stables
International Zone
Solaris City, Solaris VII
April 22nd, 09:37hrs

"SIX WEEKS!!" Erin's dainty fist crashed down upon her desktop as she screamed out the words, causing Von Bremen to take a step back defensively regretting reporting his conversation with DeMarkus and wondering if the bit had finally snapped.

"Unacceptable!" The fist slammed down again as the LOKI agent empathized the word. "I'm scheduling fights, Randolph, big fights. And I'm going to need every mechjock I have if we're going to put these slack-jawed _______ (comment removed for tastelessness) stable owners in their place. We need a champion, just who the f**k do you expect me to use? These flunkies who's files have been crossing my desk daily? Or should I use the Stripper or the weirdo with the stalker girlfriend (and clown suit)Or perhaps the Dragoon train wreck assassin magnet/security leak?!" Vented, the Countess then took a moment to regain her composure as Von Bremen stood their speechless. When it finally looked like she was lucid, the toe-headed face man replied.

"Well, there's always Jack..." She cut him off. "That bloody pirate is going to be out for just as long as the Capellan if not longer. And from I'm hearing from Randal, his mechs would probably be better used for spare parts. Not worth repairing. Well, that's not entirely true his tech did a top notch job on that Jaegermech..." She trailed off, leaning back in her exotic leather chair which squeaked in protest.

Now cool and calm, she turned her attention to her computer. Piercing blue eyes scanned over the Solaris Stable Owners event calendar searching for upcoming events. Suddenly she stopped. A cold and calculating look plain on her face as she read the event's name over again.

VitaOrange presents: Battle in the Black Hills, Boreal Ranch, free for all.

A predatory smile cracked as she read on the list of sponsors and the participating stables.

Jaded Giants, Gun Runner's, Lynch Stables, Akuma's Demons, and the Black Hand.
The smile broadened with her relishing the thought of loosing her Capellan attack dog on her enemies, of him savaging them, and her rubbing the SSOA's (Solaris Stable Owner's Association) face in it.

She then pushed her chair back from her desk and fixed her glacial stare on Randy. "The Capellan has his six weeks. He fights on the third of June in Boreal Ranch. Free for all. Let him know at once and get him and that tech of his whatever help they need to patch that sh*tcan he calls a mech together." She smiled at him and as he turned to leave she added on. "And Randy..." Von Bremen turned wondering what else this psycho b**ch wanted. "The others MechWarriors... get them to fight immediately, if they won't or can't, get rid of them. I don't have time for lame excuses or bullshimp sob stories. They fight, or they're gone. Dismissed." She returned to her computer leaving Von Bremen to skulk off to do her bidding.

Edited by Thom Frankfurt, 22 August 2013 - 08:34 AM.






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