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#21 TheFlyingScotsman

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Posted 18 March 2013 - 04:18 PM

“You can lower the supplies with the tow cables and I will set them aside for transport. I am also sending some more troops in to search for other survivors within the Dropship.”

Now climbing back up to the dropship with a small cadre of infantry, Asfrid paused for a moment to reply. "Affirmative, Sergeant. I'll get the men working on the jets, it's basically just replacing plumbing, anyone savvy can do it. The cables can only withstand ten tons of weight under water. Outside, I don't think it can manage more than two, maybe two and a half at a time. I'll start lowering rations and ammo evenly, but trying to get everything out would take weeks." She continued the rest of the way to the top, and kept going up the cable, climbing off onto a shoulder mount and into the cockpit.

She fired up the reactor and backed the Trebuchet up from the edge, carefully giving the men around her time to get to a safe distance. Now in position, it could easily be used to lower supplies. She called four of the men to find a hand-lift and start lowering supplies a few crates at a time. This taken care of, she climbed back down to start work on the jets. This took up another one of the cables not holding the arm in place, leaving two cables free. The work was done quickly, though, making three avilable for crates. Now, it was just dropping supplies until she got the order to move out.

She climbed back up to fetch cigars for herself and the men. She sat on the edge of the cockpit, feet dangling as she tossed down the favors to the men. As she did this, she looked out over the city through the small window of light. Fires were blotting the sky out with smoke, giving it the appearance of being much later than it was. She already felt tired to the bone, and she was pretty sure her arm was infected. For good measure, she pulled out a flask and tore off the dressing, dousing the ugly but deceptively small looking puncture with scotch whiskey.

She called down to the men. "Any of you boys a medic?" One of the men who was working on the crates shook his head, but promised to fetch one. He followed his next parcel down the cable, sitting on it as it descended. Running her hands through her hair, she sighed, exhausted. She slammed back a swig of potent, burning grain alcohol and coughed a little. "I have a feeling this is going to be a hell of a job." She said to nobody in particular.

As she puffed out clouds of sweet smoke, a particularly loud raucus came from outside, shaking the entire structure of the dropship. Outside, the telltale thunder of long-range missiles was undeniable. "****, incoming!" She jumped back into the cockpit and slammed her helmet down.

"Sergeant, Wolf is targeting the dropship and the structure with ordinance. I'm getting the Scotsman out now, I'll meet you at the bottom. Clear the landing!" She tested the cables for a moment, checking that each was slack and empty before setting them on the fastest recoil speed. She hit the PA. "Boys, this bucket has footings on the chest for underwater work, lock yourselves on and hold on for your life!" She waited a moment as the troops scaled her mech and clung to "safe" positions.

As she slowly throttled forward, another salvo struck the dropship, causing it to buckle wildly. Without thinking, she slammed the throttle full forward, dropping the Trenchbucket out, and slamming on the stability jets. As she descended, the wind roared past her open windshield, and she slammed the jets on full to decelerate. The fifty-ton battlemech crunched into the concrete with enough force to shatter and crunch it underfoot, but the structure held, groaning its relent. Taking another hit like that on the knee could easily snap the haphazard work.

Without bothering to check, she slammed the 'Mech back into full gear, getting her and her riders out of harm's way as quickly as possible. Behind her, the parking structure and the dropship collapsed with a thundering roar. She could only assume Wolf would be snuffing its way over to find any survivors. She wondered how many men had still been on the dropship when it was hit, and shuddered.

Back to business. Now, to find Tang.

"Sergeant, I'm heading your way. There's an Omni on the loose, it just took out the dropship with long-range missiles. A few of the men and I are going to need medical attention. Over"

Edited by TheFlyingScotsman, 20 March 2013 - 04:39 PM.


#22 Thom Frankfurt

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Posted 20 March 2013 - 12:32 AM

Lake Isabella
Roughly 67 miles SSW of Logan's pass
150+ miles from Saddleport, Severn
Nov 19, 3051 20:51hrs

Ryan was an fine athlete, but despite his raw physical talent and conditioning he still found himself huffing and puffing as he ran down the main street of the small town. Even as his body rebelled against him, screaming for rest and air he ran on as small bait shops and antique stores passed by in a blur. Why he was running towards the enemy and what he'd hope to accomplish when he reached them he wasn't sure. But one thing was sure he was tired of running from them.

Nearing the yellow school bus adorned with the lovely welcome painted by the local cheer squad, Ryan dared a peek through the driver's side window at the oncoming Wolf forces.

"Holy s**t he wasn't kidding about them being slow." He blurted out and as he did so came the realization that they had more Elementals than could mount up on the Omni's and were traveling at the toads best land speed. Despite being on foot, the augmented infantry were still moving at a decent pace hopping along with jet assisted jumps. Looking the strange star over, he made note of the mech designs.

A Fenris a heavy scout mech that was favored by the Wolf Clan was in the lead and by it's side was another medium mech, the one the Inner Sphere designated as a Dragon Fly. With the moon's light refecting dully off the Omnimechs armor, the two mechs slowly proceeded towards the town almost...warily?

Retreating out of the bus, Ryan hastily looked about and as he did a plan came to mind.

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

Star Commander Ernesto was irritated. Since being deployed upon this most pathetic of a planet he'd been denied every opportunity to engage the Inner Sphere barbarians upon the field of battle. Held in reserve, he'd be delegated to hunting down reports of infantry activity. It was reported mere hours ago, that a lone Firemoth had engaged and eliminated a comnpany of jump infantry in a nearby pass. When he arrived on scene, wolves feeding on the shattered and broken remains of nearly a score of men greeted him. It almost made him smile. The he moved onwards towards the nearest known populous to the pass, a small lake community. Now the sight that greeted him, made him uneasy. A small pathetic town, nay a village, lay stretching out before him.

"Star Commander," the armored visage of Point Commander Gregori swung down to partially obscure his view through his canopy of the population center. "do you wish my men scout ahead, quiaff?"

"Aff. All Elementals forward." Replied Ernesto and a series of 'pops' sounded as the elementals let go of their handholds upon the Fenris.

****************************************************
"Ah s**t." Ryan whispered as the flock of elementals took flight after a slight pause. He was hoping that the Clanner's would be sticking together in a tight knot. "Come on you Pan-sies, just a little closer..."
******************************************************
RRIIIPPP!! Gregori ripped down the banner hanging from the bus with a sneer. The insolence of these freebirths, believing that one battlemech could destroy the power of Clan Wolf. With the thoughts of the pain he'd inflict upon the next spheroid he'd see accompanying the painful shriek of totured metal as his Elemental's power claw dug into the lip of the bus' roof, he pulled himself up he took a moment to survey the town. Boarded up windows, largely empty streets, and not a soul stirring. Perhaps his plans on inflicted pain on the next barbarian would have to wait awhile. With a sigh he hopped off the roof and began heading for the nearby service station.

"Point Commander, everything looks abandoned. Shall we continue the search, Quineg?" Spoke his number two into his point's private com frequency.

"Neg. If there were any defender's they would have engaged us by now." (Clan Lunkhead thinking) And with that he turned towards where his star commander's Fenris stood by idly.

"Star Commander Ernesto, all is clear." he waved his battle claw to his Commander's Omnimech.

"Excellent work, Point Commander." The Star Commander said as the star's two omnimechs began to move forward. With that the elemental headed back towards the service station. Long legged strides carried the super-trooper forward to the service shop where he found a partially unassembled vehicle and a small shop advertising hot food, bait, ammo, and cold beer. Turning to head back towards the main street something odd caught his eye. The cover to one of the plates covering stations fuel tanks wasn't on properly. Hastily the Point Commander ran up to and flipped off the plate with the battle claw to peer into the shadowy depths below...
***************************

Thud, thud, thud... Ry wasn't sure what was louder. The sound of the elemental stomping around on the roof above his hiding place, the omnimechs storming up the road, or the sound of his own hearts beating. Laying low in a beauty salon he'd taken for cover, he held his breath as two of the armored giants stalked pass the front of the shop and to his point of view staring right at him. Continuing to use one of the salon's many mirrors he kept track of the Clanner's progress through town. With a crunch the Fenris kicked the bus to the side and waddled into town and the Viper followed upon the lead mech's heels. With a devilish grin, Ryan mashed a nervous thumb down upon the satchel charge's detonator.

*****************************************
"STAR COMMANDER IT IS A TRA-" The point commander's warning came too late as the fuel tanks erupted in a furious fireball that spewed earth, asphalt, twisted pieces of metal, brick, bait and everything that made up the service station. The blast pelted the two Omni's with debris. A massive slab of asphalt flew into the back of the Fenris' like a stone spear, while bits and pieces of brick peppered the whole right side of the Viper that careened over to crash into the three story department store, which then caved in under the mechs weight and explosion's abuse. Great clouts of gray smoke and dust department store mingled with the raging conflagration that was once the service station.

The Elementals that survived the cowardly attack rushed towards the site of the explosion, with some taking to securing the area around the still attempting to rise despite it's gyro being FUBAR Fenris and attempting to check in on the Dragon Fly's pilot. And in the dust and smoke and ensuing chaos, they didn't detect a lone jump-trooper running away...

Edit: Getting rid of a bunch of extra space.

Edited by Thom Frankfurt, 20 March 2013 - 01:31 AM.


#23 roastpuff

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Posted 26 March 2013 - 01:36 PM

Mattheson Industrial Park
Saddleport, Sevren
19th November, 3051, 16:22 hours

"Sergeant, I'm heading your way. There's an Omni on the loose, it just took out the dropship with long-range missiles. A few of the men and I are going to need medical attention. Over."


The message just confirmed what Donovan already realized when he saw a salvo of LRMs come in and strike the hull of the Dropship. Someone out there was targeting the Dropship, and he was sure that they were relatively nearby in the area. Judging from where the LRMs came from, the unit firing was nearby, and was a singleton - or had company that didn’t have LRMs to help add to the indirect fire. Either way, that was not too good as his ‘Mech was still yellow in terms of armor, though he had managed to reload the ammunition for his LRMs and his LB-X autocannon with the off-loaded supplies.

“Drop the men off at the hover APC, Mafalgam, and the medics will see to them. I’ll send the vehicles back with whatever supplies they can get loaded but us ‘Mech jocks need to stay in our ‘Mechs and get out of here before we meet up with another Clan ‘Mech. They are not customers that you want to tangle with,” he sent back over the radio. “How badly are you hurt?”

Deciding action was better than inaction, he sent Juniper to scout around with instructions to disengage when they spotted an enemy and break off at their best speed - the scout hovertank had a non-existent life expectancy against any ‘Mech - and for the hover APCs to load up any supplies and personnel they could before making their way back to the gathering area at Lima-14. He could see the platoon rushing around loadings supplies, and he decided to move towards the direction of fire to slow down any enemies if they appeared out of the buildings. At least the urban nature of the combat nullified the range advantage that the Clans held in the open field, he thought.

“Juniper to all units, we have spotted a pair of Clan ‘Mech approximately twelve blocks from here,it looks like a medium and a light ‘Mech. We are withdrawing, I don’t think they’ve spotted us yet!”

A pair of Clan ‘Mechs? Things were going to get nasty, Donny figured.

“Mafalgam, I don’t know if you caught that transmission or not but we have a Clan medium out there with a friend. We need to get out of here and regroup with the Leutnant - we don’t stand a chance against him,” he transmitted over the radio to the Trebuchet. He figured he should also update the Leutnant on what was going on.

“Dove, Donny-Boy. We have retrieved some supplies and a survivor with a ‘Mech from the Deliverance. Have two Clan ‘Mechs, one light and one heavy, closing in on our position. The platoon and the scout tank are heading back to Lima-14 with supplies, while the survivor and I will attempt to delay the two Clan ‘Mechs in a fighting withdrawal. Please advise on the possibility on a link up - both of us are in yellow-orange condition and are marginal on combat effectiveness.”

Edited by roastpuff, 26 March 2013 - 01:36 PM.


#24 TheFlyingScotsman

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Posted 27 March 2013 - 08:04 AM

Mattheson Industrial Park
Saddleport, Sevren
19th November, 3051, 16:22 hours

Asfrid could feel the pressure from the exploding missiles as they continued to pelt the dropship behind her. Waves of heat and sound rolled through her gaping windshield as the impacts tore apart the massive bird. As large sections fell and the main body sagged deeper and deeper, the tension on the parking structure finally overwhelmed the supports. The building roared as it folded onto itself, igniting what fuel reserves remained and sending flaming debris streaking down the streets. Luckily, she didn't hear anything heavy striking her 'Mech.

She commed her PA system. "Whoah, that was nasty. Did anyone get hit by that?" A round of haggard and stressed sounding nos came around. The fifty-ton Trenchbucket hobbled forward at a cautious pace of 80 klicks an hour, coming towards the tanks, now moved to a safe distance from the dangerous wreckage.

“Drop the men off at the hover APC, Mafalgam, and the medics will see to them. I’ll send the vehicles back with whatever supplies they can get loaded but us ‘Mech jocks need to stay in our ‘Mechs and get out of here before we meet up with another Clan ‘Mech. They are not customers that you want to tangle with. How badly are you hurt?”

"A-firm. I have a bad gash in my arm, and it's starting to smell awful. The Scotsman's laser system is at half effectiveness, unable to align and the left leg is internally weakened. I have no front windshield and no radar system. I'm pretty much down to six streak tubes and a tag. I think my leg can withstand soft jumps, but a hard landing would have bad results."

Asfrid slowed as she came within twenty meters or so of the APC, stopping carefully and placing the mech in standby. "You're safe to dismount boys. There are a couple nasties on the loose, so double time!"

Above the sounds of idling tanks and shouting men, the whud-whud of an approaching mech was apparent. She could only hope it wasn't a Wolf sniffing about.

((Short precursor post. Gonna coop with roast to hopefully put together a fun action scene.))

#25 RogueSpear

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Posted 29 March 2013 - 10:12 AM

University of Saddleport,
Saddleport, Sevren,
19th November, 3051, 14:46,

Sergeant Mlodinov let loose an explosive breath, visibly sagging with relief. Bardbury’s deep crimson mech tore huge, muddy divots out of the ground with it’s flat, spade-like feet; followed closely by a single, roofless jeep full of walking wounded. The mech was a proud, ornate creature; rich red armour plates with white joints and both colours swirled the length of the barrel. It did not move like one. The mech thudded lifelessly towards the university, the orange reflective glass of the cockpit cracked and coated with blood and oils. Part of a clan elemental’s leg was caught in the roll cage around it, crushed and flattened into the bent protective bars. Mlodinov’s stomach roiled when he caught sight of it, jerking with every step. The wounded in the jeep weren’t much better off, the PDF sergeant could clearly see Bradbury’s pale faced tech Craig, cradling his stump and whimpering in the back seat.
“Get the damn medics up here now.” He muttered to his driver, shoving the man to get him moving. Bradbury’s mech wouldn’t fit into the garage they’d been using to hide their vehicles, so he directed the mercenary to a courtyard he could power down. Mlodinov was worried. The mechwarrior’s responses were toneless and abrupt, nothing like the hyperactive man who’d barely shut up the entire time the sergeant had known him. Trudging into the courtyard, the mech tossed a limp tan and grey form to the ground before sagging to a halt. The whine of capacitors and myomer losing charge filled the yard, dull clanks ringing as joints came together. The mech’s cockpit opened, sliding the armoured viewport forward and down across the chest, crushed leg jerking obscenely. Bradbury crawled out the cockpit jerkily, clambering across it’s left torso and leg to the ground. Mlodinov jogged over to meet him, waving infantry to the discarded Elemental. Bradbury reached the ground, covered in sweat. There was a tear in his trousers where he had tripped and fallen, a blood crusted scrape peaking out through it. A large welt on the side of his head must have made his neurohelmet a pain to wear and his teeth were chattering as though in shock. “What happened?”
Bradbury looked up for a moment to make eye contact. “Toads. The rest are dead.” He gestured vaguely at the one he’d dumped in the yard. “Bondsman.”
“I’m sorry.” Mlodinov said sympathetically. “They were good men.” Bradbury nodded and began shuffling off. “Hey wait, wait up.” He said loudly, grabbing the man and turning him round to face him. “What about reinfo-“
The cool barrel of Bradbury’s pistol shut his mouth with the clack of teeth slapping together, pressing against his jaw softly. Furious eyes burned into his. “Leftenant Delfino is on her way with escorts.” Bradbury’s voice was hard now, his jaw set. Visibly angry, there was still no more life to him. “She will be here soon.”
Mlodinov tried to nod against the barrel, lifting a hand gently to move it aside. Bradbury shoved him back hard, half shove and half push, waving the gun round at the nearby infantry when they moved to intervene. “Okay Bradbury! Okay!” He held out a hand placatingly, trying to keep his voice level. “Calm down, okay?”
“WOAH!” Someone slammed hard into Mlodinov’s back, sending him sprawling into the dirt. “You’re alright Brains, you’re alright!”
As Mlodinov pushed himself to his feet he saw Bradbury look up at his assailant, a scruffy unshaven man wearing a red jacket. “No...” Mumbled the mechwarrior, waving his pistol at his mech. “Lopez...and...everywhere and...Craig’s arm-“
“It’s alright, we’ll deal.” Said the man, placing a hand on Bradbury’s shoulder and staring intently at him. “Just like we always do, alright?”
The man turned to face Mlodinov and he recognised him as one of Bradbury’s techs, Vickers. “Get that clanner out of here and go and see to the convoy,” He said, pointing away. Looking at the infantry he repeated again, more forcefully. “GO and SEE to the CONVOY.”
“Do what he says.” Ordered Mlodinov. He met Vicker’s gaze. “I need him okay.”
“He will be,” nodded Vickers. “Just give us a minute alright? C’mon Dirk, I need you in the garage, somethin’s broken.”

Edited by RogueSpear, 02 April 2013 - 09:35 PM.


#26 RogueSpear

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Posted 02 April 2013 - 10:35 PM

University of Saddleport,
Saddleport, Sevren,
19th November, 3051, 14:51,

"Something's broken?" Mumbled Dirk as Vickers led him away.
Vickers kept his voice concerned and animated as he talked to Dirk, trying to act like nothing was out of the ordinary. "Uh yeah, it's Messer y'see..."
"Roll cage is smashed," Dirk shook his head agitatedly,"There's no way it'll roll properly until it's cleaned out and straightened."
"Yeah you're righ,t Brains. Good catch." Vickers tapped his chin. "I'll get someone on that. You're going to need to do something about that though -"
"Windscreen wiper!" Blurted Dirk, colour beginning to return to his cheeks. If I can get...oh..." Vickers raised his eyebrows quizzically as Dirk looked worriedly at him. "What do we have to work with?"
The Quartet tech shrugged. "Here's the garage now, Brains, you tell me."


University of Saddleport,
Saddleport, Sevren,
19th November, 3051, 14:58,

The university garage was a large, single story affair with nearly no partitions. Perfect environment for giving students a place to experiment, thought Vickers. Dirk had calmed down nearly completely, hands steady, mouth flapping with a constant stream of ideas, explanations, schemes and tangents. He'd sent two of the PDF techs who'd been working on the treads of a Scorpion light tank to deal with the remains embedded in Messer's cockpit, and was now helping Dirk wrestle with a lift hoist the scrawny tech was insisting could be modified for use as a wiper for the mech's visor. With some minor modifications, of course. Vickers rolled his eyes. It was always minor modifications with Brains. Never major, or even moderate. Minor modifications. He'd even called replacing Messer's internal structure with endo steel from two dozen designs minor.
All in all, over the muffled sounds of warfare, Vicker's was wishing he'd actually kept the list of instructions Sierra had given each of them before leaving. All three technicians had been given a list of possible situations and how to deal with them. Each point could be summed up with 'When Dirk does this, do that.' Vickers had thought at the time after being friends with the man for three years, he knew how to keep him under control.
The Quartet was a tight knit group, but the actual Quartet of mechwarriors was even tighter still. The techs, airmen and infantry had seen Dirk get twitchy before, heard him get nervous on the comms. But they'd never seen or heard him panic. There had always been the rest of the Quartet - and Sierra - nearby to deal. And Vickers...
Vickers grimaced while they tried manfully to lever the hoist onto a flatbed. Dirk was babbling about how he really should up Messer's weight by another five tonnes if he could ever keep the same power to weight ratio and not lose speed, as he had for years, and add some hoists. Vickers looked at his friend's strained face, the hoist halfway onto the flatbed, and wished he could remember anything from the list other than 'Pretend something is broken, he'll think of something and go fix it.'

#27 Sparks Murphey

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Posted 03 April 2013 - 09:53 PM

University of Saddleport,
Saddleport, Sevren,
19th November, 3051, 15:10

Star Commander Warren glumly watched the buildings of Saddleport University approaching him through the slim viewport of his Mist Lynx. Someone higher up in the Clan Wolf hierarchy obviously had it in for him. He should have been scouting out the enemy position for the main push on New Cartris, but instead, his advancing years had got him relegated to hunting down the last scraps of infantry resistance in Saddleport. This was a job that Elementals should be doing. It did not need OmniMechs along for the ride.

“Star Commander, I can see the first barricades now. Permission to make an opening pass?”

Warren ground his teeth together. MechWarrior Freja, on the other hand, seemed to be relishing the chance to savage the Inner Sphere troops. Where he and MechWarrior Abban had retained the primary configuration for their Mist Lynxes, she had refitted hers to the A config, the better for anti-infantry work.

Poor Abban. The pup really did not deserve to be on a nowhere mission like this.

“Neg, MechWarrior, we advance abreast. The Elementals will go in first, and we will provide missile support. Once the Elementals are engaged, then you have permission to join them,” Warren replied.

“Aff,” Freja said tersely. Another decision she would hate him for, but Point Commander Rana was a good woman who deserved whatever honour could be gleaned here.

He locked onto a tank crawling behind the enemy lines. One of the woeful Scorpions the Inner Sphere used. “Abban, target their armour, engage when you are ready,” Warren called, loosing a volley of LRMs.

Explosions bloomed across the enemy position as the elementals began their attack. “Freja, you may advance,” he said over the comms. Her Mist Lynx was striding ahead before he finished the order.

Warren’s own LRM barrages became almost a background thought in face of the deadly dance of Rana’s Elementals. They wove through the battle with a grace belying their stature, using their jump jets and the defenders’ own barricades to avoid return fire. With awe, he watched Rana herself jump aboard an escaping APC, tear the roof off with her claw, and pour in shots from both her underslung shotgun and the heavier support MG. Warren might be the Star Commander, but this was really Rana’s mission.

“Star Commander!” Freja’s excited voice cut across his thoughts, “I am detecting a BattleMech powering up in the courtyard. My probe is identifying it as a 75 ton...Helepolis?” She laughed. “I am moving to engage the antique.”

Warren almost ordered her back. Antique or not, that thing massed the same as the combined weights of their three OmniMechs, and she seemed to have forgotten she only had anti-personnel weapons fitted. But, so be it. If she won, they had defeated an enemy BattleMech. If she lost, maybe she would be out of his hair. He found a good vantage point on top a nearby building and leapt up there to observe the coming skirmish.

Edited by Sparks Murphey, 04 April 2013 - 03:29 AM.


#28 RogueSpear

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Posted 11 April 2013 - 05:23 AM

University of Saddleport,
Saddleport City, Sevren,
19th November, 3051, 15:06,

“MECHS!” The shout rang out through the hangar, echoed and repeated by tankers and techs alike. Panic began to break out amongst the civilians, some running or screaming or beginning to stampede for the escape vehicles.
Dirk let go of the hoist, the articulated arm seeming to writhe as cables were forced tight or loose, collapsing off the flatbed. Looking at him, still half hunched from lifting, fingers flexing slightly, eyes wide and staring off at hangar doors, Vickers could think of nothing more than a petrified rabbit caught in the headlights.
“Brains. BRAINS!” Vickers grabbed Dirk’s arm, forcing the mechwarrior to look at him. “Knife out.”
Dirk’s eyes quieted, relaxing, becoming stern rather than scared. He nodded and began moving, hurriedly pushing a way through the crowds. Vickers fell in behind him, nearly losing the skinny tech despite his stronger physique, Dirk simply slipping through the tiniest of gaps. A group of PDF troopers were pushing towards them, shouting for Dirk and Vickers directed the mechwarrior towards them. The PDF troops rushed them out a side door, trying to fill in Dirk along the way.
“Three mechs, light ones. A bunch of toads too. Sergeant Mlodinov is trying to get our scorpions powered up and the civvies-“ A volley of LRMs impacting nearby drowned out the trooper speaking, a freckle faced young woman half Vickers’ age.
“I’ll get him there ma’am,” He shouted, jogging alongside her. “Don’t worry about us, help the rest!”
“Fine, but you have to contact the relief, Mlodinov can’t get through!” With that, she took off back towards the hangar and the smoke.

********************************************************************************************************************************
Sergeant Mlodinov grimaced as the double volley of LRM10s impacted across his tank, shaking the whole vehicle. “Get us between them and the convoy!” He barked. A short, sharp thudding retort echoed through the vehicle, his gunner opening up on the clan mechs with the Quickcell Deleon 5 autocannon. Peering into his periscope, Mlodinov saw the mechs continuing to advance unscathed. More lrms blossomed from the two on the left; the one on the right seemed to have a different loadout. It sprayed machine gun fire over the escaping vehicles and unprotected personnel alike, chewing up their carefully prepared barricades in an instant.
A crash and shriek of tearing metal rocked the tank. “Toads on board!” Confirmed the driver, wrenching the tank from side to side in an effort to shake them off.
“Gunner! Target and fire!” The turret swung right, jarring to a halt. Immediately the 20mm gatling opened up, a single thud and a pained crunch was all that sounded from the autocannon.
“Jam!” Was the gunner’s last word, speared by an elemental’s laser.

As the side of the turret came away entirely, a hulking tan and grey toad blocking the sun and carnage, Sergeant Mlodinov of the Sevren Planetary Defence Force addressed the all encompassing barrels of it’s guns with a simple “F*cking Quickcell garba-“

Edited by RogueSpear, 30 May 2013 - 01:36 AM.


#29 Thom Frankfurt

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Posted 14 April 2013 - 12:50 PM

San Joaquin Hospital, Lake Isabella
Roughly 67 miles SSW of Logan's pass
150+ miles from Saddleport, Severn
Nov 19, 3051 21:19hrs

Lurking from cover to cover, Ryan quickly made his way to rendezvous with the other three jump troopers. But it wasn't fast enough for his taste as every thump, thump as the Fenris thrashed about helplessly as it tried to right itself or the crunching of falling brick as the elementals helped with unearthing the Dragonfly sounded too close for comfort. He had no doubt of what end he'd meet if the Wolves got ahold of him, and with that spurring him on he dashed towards the Hospital's entrance.

As he neared the sandbag covered entrance a man dashed out at him. Freakishly large and neigh impossibly broad of shoulder, 'Marshal Dillion' (Sorry my wife and I watch Gunsmoke regularly.) stormed out in a near berserker rage as Ryan stared on in disbelief.

"You mad f**k!! you've doomed us!" He reached out and grabbed Ryan by the straps from his web belt and flung him around like a rag dog. Ry's training kicked in, he threw an elbow but the grip didn't lessen even as his soundly connected with the square jaw. In desperation, he kicked out cracking the big man in the knee and popping him in the nuts. The grip lessoned to the point where Ryan could barely feel the ground beneath his feet. With a snarling growl and almost inhuman strength the law man threw Ryan who landed with a 'oomph!' against a parked car. Scrambling, the two then reached for their guns...

"Stop this nonsense!" A doctor threw himself between the quarreling pair and Grand, Silva and Cooper quickly joined him, separating the two. "Barbeque, that was crazy!" Tremors rippling through the ground from large slabs of crunched building raining off the now upright Dragonfly ceased any more discussion as the group ran for the cover of the hospital.

"Some of the patients were too sick or weak to move to be evaced, so they're here with some of the doctors, nurses, and townsfolk that volunteered to stay behind with them. I'm guessing there's about twenty five total, not including us." Ryan nodded while the infantryman reported.

"Is there a radio?" Ryan asked. "There is we've been in communication with some of the remnants of first battalion..." Coop nodded as he spoke. "Good, make sure they're getting sitreps and request, beg, plead, do what'cha gotta to get some nut crazy enough to fly out here and get us and anyone wanting out of here. Understood?" He arched an eyebrow at the other jump trooper.

"Got it." He headed off down the hall. Ryan then turned to the other two. "Helipad is on the roof correct?" They nodded. "Good, get up there and keep an eye out for evac or reinforments. And don't forget about the Clanners." With that the two raced off after Cooper leaving Ry to confront the sheriff turning he seeked out the lawman who stood by himself grumbling while looking out the front entrance.

"Look, I didn't know anybody was still in town when I rigged that surprise for the Wolves. Had I did I wouldn't." The sheriff grumbled something the two of them having unfinished business. "Whatever man." He waved the threat off. "We're trying to hail a ride out of here, if anyone wants to get out of Dodge while they can have them muster up on the helipad. I imagine you're going to stay behind, and I commend you. You let the Wolves know that the men who rigged that blast are gone. They'll be able to find us at Saddleport." With that he left the freakishly large man to himself and headed in the direction of the elevator.

Edited by Thom Frankfurt, 14 April 2013 - 12:51 PM.


#30 RogueSpear

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Posted 18 April 2013 - 10:12 AM

Dirk jogged to a halt in front of Messer, slapping a hand down on a rail. His heart was pounding in his chest, his knees were trembling from fatigue and fear. Chaos swirled around them. Explosions, gunfire and screams echoed from the garage area and smoke towered high above the university. The courtyard was full of panic, people running in all directions in a riot of conflicting ideas of foot and vehicle to escape.
“Up you go Brains,” Pressed Vickers behind him. “C’mon, we don’t have time.”
“Right,” Dirk mumbled, “Right.” He climbed three rungs before stopping. “Tom? Look after Martin. Get him out of here.”
Vickers grinned. “Even if I have to knock out a toad myself. Craig’ll murder me if I don’t.” He took off running.
Dirk climbed the height of Messer with his eyes closed, arms and legs working from memory. His whole back itched, convinced at any moment a missile or an elemental was going to come crashing into him and snap him in half. He clambered into the cockpit, shaking limbs beginning to steady. The visor slid into place gently, still blurrily smeared with fluid but the worst had been cleaned off and the leg was missing from the roll cage. Dirk offered a silent prayer to whatever Gods might be listening for that as he donned his neurohelmet.
“If you aren’t Di-“
“It’s me, old friend,” Dirk replied. “Knife out.” The second phrase immediately brought the mech online, a cold start so fast he hated to use it because of the damage it could do to the engine. Superheating plasma immediately blasted from the mech’s torso and an instant later from the legs in a hurricane of fire and spray, launching the 75 tonne Helopolis into the air. In the seconds it took to propel the Mech 30 metres into the air the reactor had fully kicked in, Messer’s automated voice was announcing systems going online and more importantly Dirk finally had some control over the jump. His feet pressed and twisted on the pedals, fingers and hands twisting joysticks and analogues. His view rotated, panning as he swung the torso round.
Messer landed on a low lying roof of the university, crushing through it like it wasn’t even there. The heavy suspensors in the legs, designed for artillery duty, nearly completely absorbed the recoil when the mech’s feet slapped into solid ground. Messer pivoted into a crouch, resting on it’s right knee and flinging it’s left arm to the side to absorb momentum, the barrel of the heavily augmented Edward Industries Thumper Artillery Piece raising to face the trio of clan mechs before him. Their thick shouldered torsos and limbs were tan, armoured legs in a matt grey.

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

“The Helepolis had jumpjets?” Blurted Star Commander Warren, pausing his advance while he took stock of the new development.

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

Dirk grinned fiercely. “Meet the #6 Bradbury Repeater Mk III.” He whispered as his HUD turned red over the charging Koshi. The cannon recoiled a full three metres from the blast, kicking dust and smoke across his viewport from the shattered classroom Messer stood in. “I call it the ‘Whacker...’” His voice trailed off as his view cleared, revealing a clean miss. “Fu-“

****************************************************************************************************************************
Freja leapt to her left when she saw the barrel pointing at her, jets flaring and moving obliquely to the large mech. It’s first shot had shaken dust from her mech in it’s passing, missing her cockpit by mere inches. She loosed began spraying bullets at it. “This one is good.” She smiled happily. But slow to turn and aim. “Perhaps there is some honour to be gained here after all.”
On an open channel she declared, “Unknown Helepolis, I, Mechwarrior Freja of Clan Wolf, challenge you to single combat for glory and honour.”

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

Dirk sat in dumbfounded silence for a moment, broken only by the sound of the engine heating the mech and the rattle of MG rounds, the hard burn causing various rapidly heating components to ping and pop from the temperature change. A loud clang sounded, the thumper ready to fire again.
Dirk opened up the Sevren PDF militia channels again. “Lieutenant Delfino, this is Bradbury. Under attack by three clan mechs, reading as Koshis supported by a group of Elementals. Loadouts unknown and one of the Koshis just challenged me to a duel. So I’m either about to die or even the odds a little. Might want to pick up the pace.”
On an open channel he responded to the clanner. “I uh...Mechwarrior Bradbury of the Tombstone Barbershop Quartet accept your challenge.” I should make a joke. Remi always made a joke. “Would you like a haircut to go?” He mocked as he pressed the firing stud at the running mech, reversing the throttle and forcing Messer to back through the building it was using as a foxhole, shredding what was left of the classroom and roof. “I hope that was you by the way.” He responded after a moment’s hesitation as the rocket propelled shell detonated beneath it, shaking the little mech despite it jump jetting away.

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

Freja grimaced as she landed, her readouts showing his legs to have taken heavy armour damage from the blast. She growled to himself, angry at her arrogance for issuing the challenge. She had assumed this Bradbury would continue aiming for her torso with his cannon, allowing her to simply dodge out the way. Instead the freebirth was aiming for the ground, seeking to destroy her with the blast alone. She pushed the Koshi into a sprint, quickly accelerating to it’s top speed and moving directly for the Spheroid warrior. The crimson Helepolis was out of sight, retreating into the university compound. She triggered her jump jets, roaring over the shredded building the mech had been hiding in. Immediately her HUD lit up again, the Helepolis was running beneath her at a startling speed.
This prey might be more than I can chew.

Edited by RogueSpear, 06 November 2013 - 10:42 PM.


#31 RogueSpear

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Posted 21 April 2013 - 02:21 PM

Dirk raised Messer’s left arm and opened up with it’s ER Large Laser and machine gun, twisting the mech’s torso so he was looking over his own shoulder in an effort to hit the little clan mech. The Koshi pirouetted with a flare of it’s jump jets, gracefully dodging the fire and responded with an overhead volley of flame that obscured his view. He pushed the Helepolis hard to the left, running round the corner and hitting his jets, twisting in the air. The little clan mech was hard on his heels, running underneath his guns and spraying Messer’s undercarriage with flame and tracer. The artillery mech landed hard on the wreck of a truck, surrounded by corpses and debris left by the clan toads. Dirk gritted his teeth, sending Messer into it’s lumbering run, trying to get away from his assailant.
**********************************************************************************
Freja laughed out loud when Bradbury swivelled his torso round and extended the mech’s left arm again, loosing a beam of laser fire ineffectually at her. She dodged the beam with a deft flick of her controls, dancing under it in a skipping crouch. Her right arm continued to shower him with bullets and fire from under 60 metres while she easily matched his 85 kilometre per hour strides. His own machine gun peppered at her but she continued jinking around; keeping careful to stay too close to him for him to safely fire his artillery cannon. Abruptly the big mech stopped, swinging it’s torso round, arm still extended outwards. She swiftly jumped over it, keeping up her hail of fire. She landed frowning and her heart in her throat. If the spheroid was trying to engage her in melee, Star Commander Warren would swiftly declare her challenge void and he and Abban would immediately destroy the Helepolis, stealing her kill and what honour she could have gained here.
She let loose a sigh of relief when Bradbury’s laser cut across her Mist Lynx’s chest. Clearly the spheroid had simply been trying to get her to overshoot so he could bring his weapons back into play. She grinned, closing in again as he jumped away backwards and lifting off after him.
**********************************************************************************
Warren grimaced distastefully when the freebirth’s laser scored a burn across Freja’s mech. The shot was easily avoidable but it was obvious that she had been shaken by the spheroid’s move. Had she not jumped, Bradbury’s arm would likely have caved her cockpit in. Both mechs immediately touched off with their jets again. Point Commander Rana, if she was even paying attention to the squabble would no doubt be amused. Their constant jumps were making the fight look like a duel between two obese elementals. Freja twisted past another laser shot, bounding back into view. Warren sighed resignedly, pushing his Mist Lynx forward. “Come Abban, let us keep these two in view.”
**********************************************************************************
Dirk was sweating profusely. Despite her light arnament, the clan warrior was slowly stripping down his armour. His left torso now glowed a light orange while nearly every other part of his mech was at least yellow. In the meantime, he had no idea how much damage he’d done to the clan mech. The ID discs he’d acquired on clan mechs had not been cheap or detailed but without being able to frame a reference of how much armour the mech should be sporting his computer was unable to estimate how much damage it had actually sustained. An utterly untouched outline of a Chameleon overlayed the top right of his view, taunting him with how little chance he stood against this clanner. The Koshi slowed to skirt around a burning school bus being shredded by an elemental and wrenched Messer round to face it. “DEPLOY!” He screamed, Messer immediately reacting by slamming it’s feet into the ground and deploying recoil cribbing to stabilize the big mech while he pushed the Helepolis’ torso down and fired a snap shot from the Whacker. Freja swiftly jumped over it, silhouetted against the explosion. She soared towards him almost in slow motion, the ruined school bus and it’s elemental boarder warping and turning to pulp by the blast of the expanding fireball.
And for a brief instant, the smallest sliver of a second, Dirk saw it all in the bright, bold childish colours of a cartoon as a Snake Spider leapt above him. He swung Messer’s arm up again, jumping into the air just enough to snag the Koshi’s leg as it went past. The little mech’s momentum began to swing Messer round, even as the big mech pulled it down. Dirk heaved on the controls, swinging Messer’s torso right round before releasing the Koshi.
**********************************************************************************
Warren watched slackjawed while the crimson mech grabbed Freja’s Mist Lynx, twisting with her momentum to pull the mech down and around and cast her face first through a stone building. Bradbury was immediately obscured from view by dust clouds as the building collapsed, the falling stone somehow louder than the raucous work of Rana and her elementals. He sent his mech coursing at full speed at an oblique angle towards the Helepolis. “Abban, go right. This farce has gone on long enough. Artillery and melee!” He spat the words. “Freja’s challenge is over.”

#32 TheFlyingScotsman

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Posted 29 April 2013 - 09:05 AM

Dropship Supply Recovery Convoy
Mattheson Industrial Park
Saddleport, Sevren
19th November, 3051, 16:25 hours

Asfrid bashed her fist on the console, trying in vain to clear up the static suddenly sweeping over her radar display. “Must have knocked something loose,” she grumbled to nobody in particular. “Sergeant, my mapping system just went down. Over.” She waited a few moments for a reply, but the comms system remained silent. “Sergeant, my eyes are down, do you copy? What is your current location? Over.” A thought ran by her, but she dismissed it, more out of fear than logic. Enemy ECM suite. No, her radar was just fritzed from the excitement. Her comms must be getting through.

She let a long sigh out and panned her torso around for a manual view. The sounds of the Sergeant's mech approaching were close by. Suddenly, she felt every hair on the back of her neck raise and shivers went down her spine. “What the hell... That doesn't sound like a Centurion. F#CK.” Suddenly, the back of her mech whanged with the force of something heavy striking it. Slamming her 7M into full gear, she carefully lined up a path through the surrounding convoy that wouldn't result in crushed allies.

“Sergeant, I think I just got NARCed. I'm not reading any damage, but there is definitely an omni here somewhere! Tang, do you read me?” She slammed her fists onto the comms system angrily. “Son of a *****!” Cutting a corner around the nearest building to the edge of the clearing, she slowed herself and faced the mech towards the now scrambling men and APCs, from whom she had heard nothing. Flipping on her PA system and hoping for the best, she barked out orders. “All ground forces, regroup and make for the primary!”

Suddenly, her warning lights began flashing incessantly, and betty began to speak in Asfrid's ear. “Warning, Incoming Missiles.” She pushed the throttle forward, edging up to some of the nearby buildings just down the street. Between two was a sporting court of some sort, wedged between three buildings. She backed the Scotsman into this carefully. As she did so, the incoming exploded on the roofs of the buildings around her before she was fully in cover, showering the Trebuchet with dust and mortar, and striking with one missile, glancing off her shoulder.
The detonation was thankfully not in line of sight to her open face, but the sound was completely deafening. She shook her head, cringing her eyes closed and trying as hard as she could to shake off tinnitus. In the street before her, more missiles began to rain down, silently unable to rise above the piercing ringing in her ears. After a few moments, the fiery rain stopped, but the ground continued to shake beneath her.

Again, the hairs on the back of her neck shot up, and her heart began to pump adrenaline-infused blood as quickly as it could. She sat there, arms as evenly converged in their stat as possible, watching the opening of her three-walled shelter. 'Because getting tagged and hunted by clan wolf is exactly what I need at this exact moment', she thought to herself. With any luck, the clanners would be going after her instead of the convoys. Maybe she was putting a little too much faith in their honor system, but at least she wasn't getting drowned in LRMs.
As she sat waiting, her tinnitus slowly began to withdraw. Eventually, the blaring shriek died down to a mild hum, and her hearing began to resurface. This was not as reassuring as she thought it would be, though. Now, all the should hear was the rapid thump-thump of a mech approaching. Any second now, it would come around into her view. She flipped off the safety settings for her ssrm suite and lined up her lasers best as she could. As luck would have it, the jury-rigged cable system was still intact, though her left shoulder was now reading yellow-orange damaged. No matter, she wasn't going down without putting a hole in something first.

Any second now. The rubble was positively dancing with the weight of the incoming war machine. “Come and get it you mangey sack of ****.”

Edited by TheFlyingScotsman, 29 April 2013 - 09:09 AM.


#33 TheFlyingScotsman

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Posted 26 May 2013 - 09:45 AM

Mattheson Industrial Park
Saddleport, Sevren
19th November, 3051, 16:32 hours

Edit* (Edited for period accuracy.)

Any second now. The rubble was positively dancing with the weight of the incoming war machine. “Come and get it you mangey sack of ****.”

The thumping turned into clanking as something roared past her. With so much adrenaline in her veins, Asfrid squeezed her primary weapons trigger before she could even identify the 'Mech. Lasers streaked across her field of vision, blinding her without a tinted viewscreen to protect her eyes. A few sparks and small bits burst from whatever she had struck, but its relative speed and small size left most of the beams singing air.

With a rattling cough and another blinding flash, her damaged shoulder suddenly bucked, the armor changing from yellow to a more sinister orange. Her right-hand laser weapons now hung uselessly facing downward, and her attacker was nowhere to be seen.

“Too small for a CN9, must be a clanner. ****, it can't always be an Urban.” She slammed her Trebuchet forward full, she wasn't going to sit in the same place and give the enemy any more free shots. As she cornered around onto the street, the clanner was nowhere in sight, though she could still hear it. Slowing her pace, she swung her torso around to try and pinpoint the direction.

With another jolt, her 'Mech lurched in its forward stride, a nearby burst of light flashing momentarily as some variety of LB-AC slapped its chest. More instinctively than through will, she slammed the torso sideways in time for the distinct blue flash of a large laser to tear accross her left shoulder. She carefully waited for the slap of another AC round, and was rewarded with the ringing of flakshot rattling her left side.

She immediately swept back and slammed on her jets. Rising into the air, the following blast from the large laser slapped her right leg briefly as she evened out to hover momentarily. Lining up her one remaining medium laser, she returned fire in time to scrape up the enemy's right shoulder and drop down again.

As she landed, she tapped her jets, reducing the force of the drop. Her left leg groaned under the weight, but held fast and gave no indication of failing. She pushed the accelerator down again, quickly diving into a sidestreet before the light omnimech could continue to fire. It was just out of her missile range, but if anything she had heard about clanners was true, it wouldn't stay that way for long.

In the mean time, all she could do was cover ground and keep her eyes open. With no radar and one third her normal medium laser count, this was going to be a challenge, and hells if she was going to be some clanner's pet. Understanding the need to be ready to eject, she reached up overhead into the netting and pulled down her holster-belt, fit with mags, an old Terran .357 ((reminiscent of a Sig p226)) and her ceremonial but very sharp family sword, in scabbard. She strapped these onto her emergency pack, and strapped that to her seat.

With every step forward, her stomach lurched with dread. Her first real fight, She would be ready.

Edited by TheFlyingScotsman, 27 May 2013 - 08:08 AM.


#34 Tannhauser Gate

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Posted 28 May 2013 - 11:53 AM

View PostTheFlyingScotsman, on 26 May 2013 - 09:45 AM, said:

With every step forward, her stomach lurched with dread. Her first real fight, She would be ready.


Great read..More!... slacker.. :)

#35 TheFlyingScotsman

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Posted 29 May 2013 - 08:07 AM

Mattheson Industrial Park
Saddleport, Sevren
19th November, 3051, 16:37 hours

With every step forward, her stomach lurched with dread. Her first real fight, She would be ready.

To either side of her, the dull, grey, dusty buildings shook slightly with her passage. Windows rattled, debris rose from roofs and the occasional potted plant, still intact despite the warfare, tipped and cracked. With her adrenaline abating slightly, the blood stopped rushing past her ears.

She fiddled with her still-inactive radar in the hopes of a sudden recovery, but it continued to spit static light at her uselessly. In front of her somewhere was a darty little Clanner with flakshot, and if the rumors were true, a lot of streaks. To think a bunch of barbarians could roll in and seige an entire planet like this. The technology they have, the training and culture. Here she was running around in a Trenchbucket with supposedly end-all tech, and she was already outclassed and outgunned by a scout.

The rolling stomp of her TBT drowned out most of the noise around her, loudly clashing through her gaping viewport unmuffled. If she wanted a chance at taking her enemy, she would have to be able to hear him. She carefully throttled her 'Mech down to a more reasonable walk and cocked an ear. The roar of far-off lasers and cannons rolled over the smoking city, but nowhere could she hear the telltale signs of another armored walker.

Continuing down the street, she decided to take a moment to assess her situation, and swung into an alley. She prodded at her wounded arm, quickly becoming more tender and swollen with the passage of time. Unwrapping it carefully, she began to press against it to check for pus. Not being greeted with any discharge or potentially gangrenous smells, she fished out a new bandage and rewrapped it. After a swig of water and a moment's fumbling for a pungeant herbal cigar, she rolled back out of the alley, refreshed and relieved by the brief moment of respite.

As she plodded along, the road widened by a lane, clearly some central street or thoroughfare for the district. Every now and then, side streets joined it at 90degree angles, opening up her sides to potential ambush. Stopping before the first of these, she carefully considered the situation. If there was going to be an ambush, this is where she would spring it, and the clanner was probably going to do the same. One stray, faceward shot from that LBAC would very quickly end her little foray into valiant stupidity.

Regardless, she was under the impression that hers was the more heavily armored of the two, and was hopefully the only one with Jets. Luckily, the Scotsman was still relatively well-armored everywhere but the face and the knee, and she could probably hold out long enough to deliver a few streaks. She throttled back up to a jog, and began to pan back and forth for signs of attack.

Every intersection made her stomach drop into her guts. Knowing an attack was coming was bad enough, having to wait for it was horrible. Small clouds of pungent, almost fruity smoke wafted out as she crossed through her silent gauntlet. Almost imperceptibly, some muffled noise in the back of her conscious mind made her jump. Sweeping around for a look, she was rewarded with the roaring thump of a cannon strike and the searing hiss of lasers. With a final jolt, a salvo of missile burst with the sound of a thunderclap.

Scraping her muddled, distorted consciousness from the hellish noise, Asfrid tried to sweep around, unsuccessfully. The Scotsman reeled, unwilling to turn. Through the tinnitis and the cockpit rolling around her, betty chimed repeatedly into her ear.

“Warning, critical damage. Warning, left leg destroyed."

View PostLakeDaemon, on 28 May 2013 - 11:53 AM, said:


Great read..More!... slacker.. :P


Fiiiieeeeene. :3

Edited by TheFlyingScotsman, 29 May 2013 - 08:09 AM.


#36 Tannhauser Gate

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Posted 29 May 2013 - 09:26 AM

View PostTheFlyingScotsman, on 29 May 2013 - 08:07 AM, said:

Fiiiieeeeene. :3


Stands on the 9th floor fire escape outside the window of his Saddleport flat eatting his fruit loops and staring in utter shock at his broken potted plants. He spits out the mouthful of milk and cereal over the rail and shakes his fist at the scorched and battered TBT thundering down the street. "Rude!"

Edited by LakeDaemon, 29 May 2013 - 10:11 AM.


#37 Listless Nomad

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Posted 29 May 2013 - 09:43 AM

Bongerville Aerospace Base
New Cartis
19th November, 3051, 21:20 Hours

Sgt. Amanda Lockheart smiled evilly as she strapped the newcomer into the jumpseat near the rear of the helicopter.

“Buckle up sweetie pie. It’s going to be one hell of a ride.”

Guy Marlowe flashed her a predatory grin. “I’m sure you know a thing or two about those babe. Maybe you could show me sometime...” With a wink she finished strapping him in and returned to her gun position, slapping the side of the fuselage in excitement. “Let’s go Voodoo! Get this show on the road!”

The other members of the crew chuckled over the comms, giving the situation an air of brevity that it did not deserve. They all knew that every mission meant people were hurt, or trapped, and as a general rule safety does not follow those people. Semyonov closed his eyes for a brief moment before resting his hand on the collective.

“Alright everyone. You know the score. This is a long range op to extract some infantry that are pinned down by wolf forces. Supposedly there is a functional battlemech in the area.” The collective silence on the comms told Voodoo that his crew were ready.”It’s real simple. Get in. Get the boys. Get out.” Another hard thump on the side of the chopper from Lockheart gave him the answer he needed. With a mutual nod to his co pilot, Constantin slowly pressed down on the collective, saying a silent prayer as the whine of the turbofan engines drowned out all other sound.

As the wheels of the chopper finally lifted off the ground, Crew Chief SSgt. Charlie Braun improbably remained standing, his hand intertwined in a cargo strap above his head. His practiced stance belied his experience in VTOLs. He hadn’t paid any attention to the reporter to this point but now looked over at the newcomer and smirked.

“You picked a great flight to BS your way aboard pal.”

“Oh I’ll do anything for a story Chief, besides this is all on the level. Have you ever met a dishonest reporter?”

The chief rolled his eyes and turned away to speak with one of the other door gunners, as Guy gripped his straps a little tighter.

Approaching Lake Isabella
25m off the ground, 250kph
19th November, 3051, 21:20 Hours

“Rabbit, this is King Flight. Come in over.” Silence greeted them for several minutes, with Constantin and his Copilot Lt. Gregory “Jester” Macnulty exchanging worried glances.

“Jester, try again and give them two minutes, then we are turning around. It is way too dangerous out here to be mucking about blind.”

“Voodoo, we need to find those men. They are out here, alone, and scared. We can’t just abandon them.”

“I know Greg. Believe me I know. But we are well behind Wolf lines. If we can’t reach them, they are probably dead...”

Macnulty’s response was merely to press his throat mike and call out once more.

“Rabbit, this is King Flight. Rabbit this is King Flight. Please come in, over.”

#38 TheFlyingScotsman

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Posted 31 May 2013 - 10:01 AM

Mattheson Industrial Park
Saddleport, Sevren
19th November, 3051, 16:45 hours

“Warning, critical damage. Warning, left leg destroyed."

In a brief moment, Asfrid's previous, naieve confidence was as shattered as her 'Mech's stride. Barely hobbling and dragging with the sound of shrieking metal, her left leg tried to pull itself forward and failed entirely with a sputtering pop and the singed smell of burnt wiring and electrical motors. Behind her, her enemy remained silent other than the plodding approach of his BattleMech.

She tried to reign the situation in, but her mind was running a mile a minute, and all she could do was try desparately to think. Her lasers were useless and her missiles were facing entirely the wrong way. And even if she could swing them about, she was probably still as good as dead. But the alternative... surrender was not an option. In war, captured women could usually expect treatment worse than execution or imprisionment. As the sullen realization dawned on her, she came to a resolution and a solution.

Clearly, her enemy intended to play with her. She could already hear his mech close behind her, no more than fifty meters, now. Slowly and then rapidly, she panned the torso around to its widest position. Right before it slammed into place, she activated all her jets, causing the momentum of the turning torso to hit the widest point and carry the legs with it in the air. The Scotsman turned rapidly to face her opponent in his squat, advanced machinery, and almost immediately, it was rewarded with blasts from the LBAC and SSRMs.

Not letting herself be fazed, she held down on her fire-all override and was rewarded with the swishing crack of six SSRMs and her lasers firing. While only one medium laser tore into her opponent, the shot landed square and the missiles followed, landing a telling blow on the Clanner's front end. Her own center torso, however, now shone a sickly dark orange. How he could possibly have missed her open cockpit only briefly bothered her before she had to reassess the situation.

Slamming his own throttle forward, the now less-playful Clanner was already passing her on the left, but she was now in free fall after the jump. Slamming down on its useless leg, the 'Mech buckled under the weight and fell sideways, swiveling slightly and landing face down on the street. Once again, Asfrid was greeted by the ground.

She could hear the Clanner approach, and then felt the massive weight of the light 'Mech bearing down on her own 'Mech's backside with sickening, deafening crunches. She waited, expecting a final tread to collapse the cockpit, but as suddenly as he started, her opponent stopped in the center of The Scotsman's back. Time seemed to stop as she waited, the seconds dragging out like hourse. Finally, she could suddenly hear the sound of ground vehicles and other voices suddenly around her.

On the roof of her cockpit, now facing down the street, the distinct hiss of cutting equipment met her ears and the accompanied sparks of an arc torch began to shower down onto her dash. She undid the straps for her chair and dropped down onto the pavement. Reaching up, she grabbed her survival pack and strapped on her holster/scabbarb. Carefully checking her pistol, she pulled the clip and slammed in a red-marked armor-piercing .357 clip and chambered a round.

Lining it up to where the breach was coming through, she waited, shaking in her boots. “So, this is how it ends.” As an afterthought, she quickly pulled out another cigar and lit it, filling the enclosed space with pungent smoke. With a clang, the arc-torch finished its odd circle and the hatch fell inward, revealing the armored visor of a toad.

She watched his face cave inward. Bang Bang.

Edited by TheFlyingScotsman, 31 May 2013 - 11:59 AM.


#39 TheFlyingScotsman

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Posted 31 May 2013 - 12:27 PM

Mattheson Industrial Park
Saddleport, Sevren
19th November, 3051, 16:50 hours

She watched his face cave inward. Bang Bang.

Bits of person and fragments of armored glass flew around the cabin as the heavy calibre shots deafened her again. She would be lucky to have full hearing after this battle. Well, **** her hearing, she was probably going to come down with a bad case of small laser in torso in a moment. Cringing, she ducked down into the cockpit as the toad sagged over the new opening.

For a short while, nothing happened. Slowly, her tinnitus once again begrudgingly eased to a steady but not overwhelming ring, and she began to recognize human voices. A loud person was apparently attempting to communicate with her on a loudspeaker, from The Scotsman's back.

Hello? Are you still alive in that rusty heap? I'm a patient man, I am content to wait until you are ready to join us outside. You have my word we wont harm you. Can you hear me?” This repeated a bit while she regained her senses.

She decided to communicate back with him, and crept up to the breach. After carefully considering his offer, she stuck out one arm, gave him the bird, crawled back in, and lit another cigar. Miraculously, the ammo box welded to the floor remained closed and intact. She opened her pack and scooped as many cigars into her pack as she could. She then reached over to her own PA system, somehow still functioning and blinking green, and grabbed the manual microphone.

Just in case you didn't see my reply, I told you to go **** yourself. Not that I think you're blind, and I wouldn't normally pry into other people's matters, but it seems like you havn't received the comminique and wandered off to self-fornicate just yet and I was wondering why.”

A moment passed before she heard a response. “Now now, love. Contrary to your narrow perspective, we are not here to **** and pillage, we are here to bring you into the glorious and honorable fold of Clan Wolf's terretories. Just come out so we can converse like reasonable people.”

She chuckled, shock, her injuries and the herbal smoke all getting to her head. Her body was screaming for rest and her head was throbbing. Every inch of her wanted to curl up and pass out. She clutched the microphone.

She scoffed. “Reasonable? The last time I checked, this planet was doing fine before you mangey ***** swept in, all growls and bristling fur.”

Donning the tone of a parent correcting a child, he continued. “Please now, we are not nearly so barbaric as you Inner Sphere folks would like to imagine. You lot will give anyone crazy enough a gun and anyone handsome enough political power and call it government. We, young lady, are here to straighten out this terrible mess and whip some sense into Terra. Now, I am going to ask you very politely, one last time, to please come out of your own free will. Otherwise, my companions will be throwing in stun grenades until you stop twitching, and then afterwards, we will have a civil conversation anyway.”

He paused for a moment before continuing. “So, will it be the reasonable way, or the way that involves you waking up in terrible pain tied to a chair?”

Edited by TheFlyingScotsman, 03 June 2013 - 08:15 AM.


#40 TheFlyingScotsman

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Posted 04 June 2013 - 11:43 AM

Unknown Location
Saddleport, Sevren
19th November, 3051, 18:25 hours

So, will it be the reasonable way, or the way that involves you waking up in terrible pain tied to a chair?”

---

Asfrid continued to sit and watch as the clansman mechanics worked on the now charred, crumpled and beaten face of Robert's “Kit Fox”. He was still attempting to make conversation with her, even after an hour of being ignored, but he only seemed interested in boasting about his clan's exploits anyway, and her attention strayed constantly to the impressive omni-mech. It left anything she had seen the IS field in the dust, and her own encounter was proof of that.

Her short-lived but apparently potent counter-attack had made a sizeable dent in the armor, but had not damaged any of the internal structure. He stopped speaking, and a moment of impatience flowed across his face. He turned to stare at the 'Mech briefly.

He spoke with a more even tone than his previous boasting, and the change caught Asfrid's attention. “Not many of your compatriots have been able to land any truly telling blows on me before your own acrobatics. Not that you performed very well in the long run.”

She chuckled. The boredom and stress of capture had taken a toll on her, and she was not feeling very sociable. “Your, what did you call it, 'Elemental?' It seemed to disagree with that sentiment. For a second, at least.”

A smirk crossed Robert's mouth, laced with annoyance. His reply was amicable, but contained hints of bitterness. “She would certainly have a thing or two to say about it. If she had been more careful when maintaining her armor, she would have noticed the seams in the plating and taken measures to protect herself. You did not think that your toy would actually be effective against power-armor, did you?”

“A mouse cornered by a cat can still scratch and bite.”

He nodded. “Indeed. And as I was saying previously, not many mice can bite fast enough to catch the cat off guard. That is not to imply that you are either a capable or talented warrior. In fact your untrained nature combined with your inherent ability to react effectively are the reasons you are not still inside your Trebuchet, full of holes. I don't like the veteran pilots I've met so far, they are all too set in their ways.”

He met her glare as she faced him. After a tense moment, she turned back to watch the ongoing repairs. “Do my flailing attempts to pilot a combat 'Mech amuse you to such an extent that you wish to keep me as a pet?"

He spent a short while looking over his 'Mech instead of speaking. She reached into her pack to pull out a cigar. They had cleared it of spare ammo, but left the short combat knife. Likewise, her pistol and sword had been left, but the pistol had been unloaded. Clearly, Robert did not feel threatened by her armament, and she could see why. His own sword was a terran-era dueling pierce, long, skinny, and incredibly sharp. Despite being very light and effective, her own Jian-esque piece was no match for a duelist's sword in one-on-one combat.

“You should treat your body with more respect. After all, a warrior's most powerful tool is their body.” She took a particularly long and deep inhalation, and blew it softly towards him. As he tried to casually wave the cloud off, she blew another, engulfing him. “Come on, Bob, surely a little hemp-smoke wont cause your lungs to collapse, ending your prominent career as a pillager with a golden stick up his tail.”

He glared at her again, but seemed to reconsider any reprisal. Instead, he spoke matter-of-factly. “While I find your attitude grating, you hide your obvious heritage poorly. People of well-off families and poor persons walk in different manners, they hold their countenance in different manners. Poor people do not carry old swords in good condition, they do not wear perfectly fitting clothing, no matter how tattered, and they do not speak to their betters as though they are their equals. You are educable, logical, reasonable. Most of the idiots I have encountered had all the finesse and upbringing of a herd of starving swine. I can only assume you are some well-to-do's brat.”

She gave him an incredulous look. "You're smarter than you look, and yes, I do come from a wealthy family, but you don't see me eating with a silver spoon now, do you? Before you try to run off on another tangeant about how great and merciful you as a warden of Clan Wolf are, let me make it very clear that I know what you want. But also let me make it very clear that you are not the first ambitious and cocky chump to try to take me from behind and get a broken nose from it. People like you are blinded by your f&cking superiority complexes and your rigid, arbitrary lifestyles. You want to think we are the prisoners, so you lord over the rest of us, bathing us in your mighty ways until we see the light and convert. But the only reason I'm here is so you can convince yourself that you are the one who is free, and I'm the one in chains.”

He sat with a deadpan look on his face, boring a hole into Asfrid's. “Chains? I guess we will have to agree to disagree. In the mean time, my offer still stands. I will allow you to consider it for now, and if you should decide to accept...”

She looked long and hard at her cigar. “What exactly am I accepting? I wasn't aware slaves and prisoners had a choice about anything.

He smirked. “Miss Malgalm, my desire is not to enslave you, my desire is to give you proper training. If you prove worthy and become a valuable asset through your education, you will receive experience. If you should prove worth-while through experience and contribution, you will have the opportunity to elevate your position. I have given you no reason to believe that I am a liar thus far, and I know that you are intelligent enough to know a true opportunity when you see one. Especially when the alternative is... less desirable.”

She looked over at the high-tech monstrosity that had so easily outpaced and disabled her own, much heavier equipment. The contours and hardware were sleek and functional compared to the IS' own. This was not the tech of barbarians or failing societies. This was humanity at its finest, and most hideously dangerous to itself.

She took another long pull on the cigar and held it before sending it upwards. “I've always wanted to finish Academy. Sure, why the hell not.”

He smiled before replying. “Excellent, though you should be assured of one important fact. If you give me even a passing notion that you are a liability... Well, you do not want to become a liability. The Clans are excellent at removing obstacles to our success, and be assured, I am particularly good at removing such impendiments.”





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