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Post by Bounty Hunter Sam Grisham on Nov 12, 2005 19:02:21 GMT -5
My hangover was beginning to subside now and was nearly thankful that I had used “Crescent Moon” earlier. The barrel of the large revolver was now warm enough to heat my ice hold hands. I was holding it as if it were some sort of primitive club with the butt of the revolver pointing away from me. My fingers were interlocked and cupping the barrel of the gun that was now my only source of heat. I cursed at the bitter coldness, but I was also cursing at what I could hear. Ahead of me, I could hear the faint sounds of battle. The forest around me seemed to magnify the sounds. Soon a deep chill had begun trickle down my spine, one that hadn’t sprung from the cold. My heart was beginning to beat in my chest. Every step I took forward seemed to bring me closer to the various sounds of battle. It was long before I was holding “Crescent Moon” correctly, hammer cocked back and all. The only thing that I was thankful for was the fact that I was still alive. I eventually came to a clearing and found myself at the edge of the forest.
In the distance, far away beyond Site 187, the home of those miserable Legionnaires, I could see Sheratan had become a battle ground for some gigantic war. Battlemechs belonging to the WoB marched towards their deaths as their opposition laid them to waste before my very eyes. Though Sheratan had taken a beating, I was sure glad she was fighting back… and how she was!
A tear welled up in the corner of my eye. All I had done during this time of war was laze around, complain, whine, lust for attractive women (free birth and clanner alike) and get drunk. Through it all… I had done nothing but sort out MY concerns.
Feeling more helpless than I had ever done before, I fell to my knees and gently sobbed.
For the first time in my life, I wishing I was there to fight along side my Sheratan brothers. I wishing I could have make a difference in this mad and twisted universe. With my breath taken away and my emotions high, I holstered my gun, sat in the snow and watched as the mighty battle continued.
“I wish I could help you… but there is nothing I can do…”
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Post by G.C.I. Charles E. Maxwell on Nov 13, 2005 20:56:03 GMT -5
The JumpShip Astraea, assigned to a permanent 'charter' status with the Crayven Corporation, tore through the fabric of space into a dangerously close orbit of Sheratan, setting off a slew of warning beacons and causing a flurry of concerned jockeying by the ComStar fleet encircling the planet. I chuckled as I imagined the slew of angry messages that would likely soon be spouting from the warships already in orbit, but this was a time of war, and laughably distant jump points had no place in it.
My drop pod gave a lurch as it disengaged from the hull of the Securities DropShip Dreams of Avarice, and I toggled the external video feed on, making note of the three other pods that would accompany me on the descent. Though corporate had authorized only a single lance for this engagement, our current composition - twin Daishis, a Kingfisher, and a Catapult - would have no problem wading through the small pockets of resistance that Intel reported might be encountered en route to the heart of Gellen's Heights.
I tightened my harness as weightlessness took over the confines of my Daishi's cockpit, and extinguished the aromatic Yak 42 that I had enjoyed while awaiting the drop. Bringing my C3 computer online, I toggled open my comm unit, keying in a private feed to Benjamin's OmniMech.
"Tiger-1 to Tiger-2 - how's your board looking over there?"
There came a momentary pause while Benjamin inspected his HUD.
"Everything looks good over here. Your techs did a hell of a job getting Tyrant up to snuff again."
I laughed.
"It wasn't easy. You really should invest in a Clan recovery vehicle for your technicians."
"Sure. Right after I'm appointed ilKhan." Benjamin chuckled.
The drop pod which enveloped my 'Mech began to rumble as its heat-resistant outer shell hit Sheratan's upper atmosphere. I killed the comm transmission, and set about prepping my 100-ton behemoth for its planetfall, my altimeter spinning wildly as the ground rushed toward me. At 3 KM, I detonated the charges which separated the heat shield from my OmniMech's body. Sunlight flooded into the cockpit momentarily, before its expansive ferroglass canopy polarized, casting my world into a shadowy twilight. I engaged the booster packs attached in a belt-like configuration to my Daishi's torso, slowing my descent, and around me, the elements of Tiger lance did likewise.
"Tiger lance - go weapons hot. Looks like we're going to have company when we hit the L-Z."
Our drop put us just west of the last reported position of the Legionnaires' Rook lance, an area of intense combat, judging by the sounds of the radio traffic erupting from the area. My IFF readout sprung alight with hostile signatures, and even from my pronounced altitude, I could see what appeared to be a Vulture, with a friendly signature, fleeing from a duo of Initiates hurling blistering weapons fire at it. I opened my comm channel to a general frequency, and addressed the friendly BattleMech as I made planetfall.
"This is G.C.I. Charles Maxwell, of the Crayven Corporation. Looks like you've got your hands full there, MechWarrior. Care for a hand?"
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Post by Dr. Jessica Saturina on Nov 13, 2005 22:18:15 GMT -5
My Medical unit had not kept up with either of the lances. We were back with what was left of the infantry. Adams had found Kelter in his mech, he was now in the MASH. Wyatt had found Evers alive. She also was in the MASH. Neither of them had been mortally injured. We had patched them up and left them in the MASH to rest.
Going through the devastation that the atomic had left in its wake was a very grisly task. One I did not like. We had to make sure there was no survivors though. A dirty job but someone had to do it. As Head of the Medical staff I couldn't have asked anyone to do something I wouldn't do myself.
We were not going straight into Gellen's Heights unless they needed us there right away. The leader of the infantry we were traveling with was interested in a concentration camp he had gotten word of. We would follow them for now. We had the longinus battle armor team with us too. Some of our people might be part of that camp and I wanted to make sure they had medical care. I was sure they would need it. Knowing how the Blakist dogs were with their prisoners.
We would follow the infantry and wait for their signal to come in when the camp was under their control, so we could evacuate and care for the ones that needed it.
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Post by Captain Adam "Gunman" Wolf on Nov 14, 2005 9:21:24 GMT -5
Momentarily cut off from the rest of Rook lance I quickly surveyed the surroundings before plotting a way back to Rook lance. The once proud city of Gellen's Heights was in a state of chaos, the fires that had burnt out days ago during our retreat to the mountains were ablaze once more as the sounds of war echoed through the abandonned streets. Behind me, and for several blocks around, lay the ruins of various buildings and structures, their debris making an uneven, treacherous, and sometimes impassable route through the streets of the war torn city. Fortunately my 'mech was well equipped for this situation, the 'Dragoon' variant was specifically designed for Urban Combat. The 4 Light Machine Guns mounted in the arms provided acceptable firepower with a staggering rate of fire, decent range for in a city, and very inexpensive and low in weight. The machine guns, combined with the 4 A-Pods mounted on the legs, were extremely effective against any conventional infantry that may be roaming the streets, while the standard set of twin medium pulse lasers easily provided an extra punch for use against Battle Armour and armoured targets. Ranged firepower is provided through 4 LRM 5s, with 3 tons of interchangeable munitions, while a pair of SRM 6 tubes rounds out the armaments and provides that extra punch needed for BattleMechs and Hard targets. The chin-mounted turret, housing the lasers, provides an additional firing arc which is very useful in an urban environment. The ability to flip the arms backwards also adds yet another firing arc and allows easy protection of the rear, while the higher than average rear armour makes the 'mech less vulnerable to surprise attacks.
Pushing the Vulture into a slow walk forward I continually swung my torso left and right in a 90 degree arc, visually scanning for any ambushes in case my radar misses something, while the heavy feet of the metallic beast impact the concrete road the heavy steps cracking the weakened pavement. Rounding a corner to my left I could hear weapons fire louder and closer than before in the ambient sound being amplified within the confines of my cockpit. The radar beeped once, then three more times as it picked up 4 contacts, a quick glance confirmed them as BattleMechs, 3 sported friendly IFFs while the 4th was Blakist. As I approached closer weapons fire could be heard on and off getting louder and nearer, suddenly a pillar of smoke and building debris exploded upwards from only a block over, accompanied by resounding crash. Rounding the corner I spotted the trailing edge of an LRM volley arcing up through the air following a Nexus light 'mech over the top of a building. The majority of missiles slammed violently into the building while tracers rounds from the Nexus' AMS shot backwards striking down several more missiles as they disappeared from view. As I trotted along, attempting to catch up to the more agile ComStar 'mechs, I glanced up at a nearby building where thick black smoke was puring out of a large hole. Within the hole lay the shattered remains of another Nexus, its torso having a large gaping hole in it as it slouched back as though relaxing among the debris. It appeared that it had been shot out of the air by either a Gauss Rifle or a high calibre Autocannon, the impact had driven the stricken 'mech backwards through the air til it collided with the building leaving a large crater in its side.
As I approached the next block I spotted the Blakist 'mech through the rubble and debris of a downed building, although my view was partially obstructed I could clearly see the Orion Battlemech, emblazoned with the Hand of Blake, as it plodded through the streets trying to get a shot on the smaller ComStar 'mechs harassing it. The heavily armoured Orion outclassed my Vulture by 15 tons, but its pockmarked armour and small bits of smoke seeping from a few joints indicated that it was taking a serious beating from the lighter 'mechs. Spotting the 2 ComStar 'mechs on top of a building I stopped and watched as they took flight together, firing their weapons into the backside of the Orion, my computer indicated the Blakist's sensors were out so he didnt even know they were there until the weapons hit. The Nexus' twin medium pulse lasers raked across the center torso towards the right arm, while a large pulse laser severed the arm clean off with a few well placed shots. The large pulse laser originated from a Beowulf according to my targetting computer, a design I wasn't familiar with. The Orion battlemech swung around surprisingly fast and fired a high velocity projectile from its right torso. The round sped rapidly through the air towards the Nexus trailed by a bluish green electromagnetic wake, confirming my earlier suspicions of a Gauss rifle. The unfortunate pilot of the Nexus attemped a midair evasion but the gauss round was just too fast, it struck the 25 ton ComStar 'mech in its right torso, viciously tearing through the armour and internals. The Nexus' extremely low armour barely slowed the round as it burst through the backside of the crippled 'mech. The jump jets in the torso exploded out the back in unison with the nickel-ferrous slug sending the doomed machine into a catastrophic cartwheel. The pilot managed to bail successfully as the crazed beast careened violently through the sky, spiraling out of control until it slammed into a building about a block down the road from my position.
With my 'mech still parked behind a semi-destroyed building I watched as the Beowulf quickly jetted behind cover while the Orion backpedaled down the street. Locking my sights on the Blakist 'mech I popped the cover on the LRM fire control button causing the safety hatches on the exterior of the 'mech to slide open revealing behind each 5 glistening warheads just waiting to be launched. When the Orion was even with me on the next block he stopped and turned to look through the building straight at the angry Vulture moments before I pressed the button. The torso of my 'mech rocked backwards against its actuators as 20 LRM missiles exited their firing tubes in unison, a large cloud of dust and dirt exploding out of the top right launcher when the missiles forced their way through the semi-clogged tubes. The 20 missiles arced gracefully through the air as they streaked towards their target, 6 of the missiles striking the debris within the hollowed out building as they spiraled through the hole. The smokey trails snaked along various paths amidst the rubble before striking the Orion in a series of firey explosions. As the first missiles hit the unexpecting 'mech staggered slightly backwards, catching its balance it wasnt quite able to completely recover and right itself before the rest of the missiles slammed home. The repeated impacts against the upper portions of its torso sent the giant machine toppling over onto its back. Not wasting any time I swung my 'mech left and within a few long strides had the hulking war machine rounding the corner to find the badly damaged Orion just barely starting to get back up.
"Not this time buddy," I said out loud to myself as I opened fire with the medium pulse lasers and twin SRM 6s, "stay down."
The pulse lasers cored into the severely weakened armour melting slabs away under the torturious hail storm of energy. The SRM 6s spiralled unguided towards the struggling Blakist, the 12 high yield warheads detonating with such ferocity across the entire chassis it forced the Orion back down into the ground. Ripping through the armour, the hellfire of destruction raining down on the stricken 'mech set off an ammo explosion in the left torso, the explosion venting through the CASE system was unable to be distinguished from the series of explosions from the SRMs. As the missiles reloaded I continued firing the medium pulse lasers, my heat slowly but steadily rising as the smell of burnt earth wafted up from the still clogged heat sinks. At this point the Beowulf returned from the roof tops firing its twin ER medium lasers, ripping deeper into the Orion's internals until it found the gyro, which it then shattered and melted with its large pulse laser.
Thank you friendly Vulture, I appreciate your assistance greatly. Came a truly grateful voice over the comm, opening the channel I responded.
No problem, I'm glad to be of assistance, I'm Rook-1 of the Legionnaires, currently attempting to rendevous with my unit, perhaps you could assist?
Rook-1, I'm Eagle-5 of the ComStar Guards currently on Sheratan, my unit was destroyed just before you came along. Follow me, we'll rendevous with an infantry team and they should be able to help you meet up with your unit.
Copy that Eagle-5, do you know of any more enemy units in the area?
Negative, should be all clear.
With that Eagle-5 in his Beowulf and myself in my Vulture made our way through the streets heading south and east as best as we could. The ground trembling beneath our feet as we plodded through various debris, kicking up dust clouds and collapsing weaker portions of pavement as we progressed. Suddenly the roar of weapons fire filled my cockpit, overpowering the previously semi-peaceful ambient sound of the burning city. A seemingly endless stream of LRM missiles slammed into the wounded Beowulf at my side, garbled comm chatter flooded the channel from the doomed 'mechs cockpit before a spiral of smoke shot upwards, the ComStar pilot ejecting to safety and not a moment too soon. A second after the ejection pod rocketed skyward, 4 emerald beams lanced through the rear armour of the crumbling 'mech, setting off a dangerously close reactor explosion. My left side took minimal damage, only due to my 'mechs ability to quickly accelerate thanks to its supercharger, but my heat spiked violently as the explosion still rocked my 'mech.
Checking my radar I spotted 2 enemy IFFs that I had previously somehow missed, targetting them they showed as being INI-02, Initiates, mounted with LRMs, SRMs, a slew of lasers and even an AMS system, these 40-ton 'mechs were a very dangerous threat, despite their somewhat diminuitive size. Slamming the throttle forward I knew I couldn't outrun the 'mechs in the city, sure out in the open I could have easily out run them, even without the supercharger, but in the city I was extremely limited on mobility and speed, they on the other hand, being smaller, could move about much more freely in the confined streets. A trio of bluish thin beams struck out violently, lashing into the rear of my right torso, the small lasers tearing viciously into my armour, had I not mounted extra armour on the rear, as is my habit with all my 'mechs, I would have been victim to a possible ammo explosion or worse. Even so, klaxons were screaming in the cockpit as the armour was burnt to a more than critical level. I couldn't face two Initiates head to head, even if I had been able to turn around quickly enough, my only hope was to get to a clearing and find some help. Several more laser blasts shot past my lumbering giant, a single small laser striking my left rear torso. A swarm of missiles could be heard flooding down the streets towards, flicking on the rear monitor I watched as the deadly warheads spiraled like a drunken swarm down the crowded corridor, their firey smoke trails blazing a path towards me, throwing my torso around to the left, I swung my left arm out just barely able to draw a bead down the center of the approaching missiles. Futily I squeezed the trigger spraying a hoard of machine gun fire raking across the street in a desperate attempt to take down some missiles. As luck would have it, I struck down more missiles than I ever thought possible, yet still at least 20 of the missiles struck home. The battered Vulture listed violently on its side before I could bring it back under control, rounding a corner and using the centrifigul force of the motion to bring the beast back onto both her feet. The entire left side and including the leg was bruised and nearly broken, chunks of ferro-fibrous armour hung onto the frame by what appeared to be a few threads, the scorched chassis pock marked from weapons fire. Things weren't looking good, but at least there was a small clearing ahead, it appeared to have a fountain in the middle almost like a small park, but with no other contacts on the radar, I didnt know if I'd be able to survive even with the extra mobility.
This is G.C.I. Charles Maxwell, of the Crayven Corporation. Looks like you've got your hands full there, MechWarrior. Care for a hand?
The comm channel came to life as a complete surprise, it wasn't for a few moments before I even noticed the burning decent of what appeared to be 4 additional 'mechs, big 'mechs judging from the size of the flames shooting out from what must be their booster packs.
Maxwell, Charles Maxwell..... why do I know that name, he must be related to Ben but how?Were the first thoughts to race through my mind as the message finally made sense to me. Crayven Corporation, what are they doing here? Wait, I remember Ben talking about them before, he worked for them .... or something, dammit why can't I remember. For some reason my mind was realing with thoughts, none of them overly important, another blast of laser fire exploding forth from the twin 'mechs behind me cleared my mind, throwing a toggle switch I flipped both arms around behind me and squeezed down on the triggers sending a deadly storm of bullets flying backwards towards the Initiates the unaimed fire would do little damage, but should hopefully deter them a little from getting too close.
Charles Maxwell, this is Captain Adam Wolf of the Legionnaires. And I would most assuredly appreciate any assistance you may care to give. I seem to have a couple of pests here that need extermination.
Slamming down on the gas pedal I accelerated my 'mech to its top speed of 86km/h, a dangerous move in the confines of a city but I needed to reach that clearing and meet up with Charles before the Initiates had a chance to do any more damage. The Vulture bucked like a wild bull as its actuators and myomer muscles were fed more power, the steady whine of the muscles contracting and expanding could be faintly heard in the cockpit amidst the continous weapons fire, digging its toes into the ground the 60-ton mechanical monstor lunged forward, the torso bouncing and rocking on its restraints as the gyro kept the machine level. Weapons fire exploding into the buildings around me I only hoped that I could reach the clearing soon enough.
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MechWarrior Alex Thorn
Regular
LEGIONNAIRES
"I have nothing to offer but blood, toil, tears and sweat." - Winston Churchill
Posts: 176
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Post by MechWarrior Alex Thorn on Nov 14, 2005 20:24:52 GMT -5
I was walking back to my little hut when I heard a loud rumble deep within the city. I turned my head and heard the distinct sounds of 'Mechs. The Legionnaires were attacking the WoB. I rushed into the small hut and woke everyone.
Come on. The Legionnaires are in the city. We need to get out of here.
Most of the men got up grogily until the words "Legionnaires" came from my mouth. Most sat up and listened.
Alright here is the plan. We need to get into the armory. That's where most of the guards have our personal weapons. Once we get those back we can form a small resistance. Then we hit the guards hard from the inside. There is a small comm station in the large building at the center of the compound. If we can get into that then I can radio in the Legionnaires.
The men nodded. I pulled my knife that the guards had missed when they searched me.
Alright let's go.
We all got up and headed to the door. I looked outside. Most of the guards were watching their posts lazily or just didnt care who moved about the compound. Me and the other four men from my hut moved towards the armory. He casually walked in.
The guard at the front desk looked up and instantly grew angry.
What are you doing here?
I didnt take the time to answer but jumped the guard sliting his throat. I grabbed the man and pulled him off the desk. I pushed a button that unlocked all the lockers. Alright men. Merry Christmas.
The men found their personal weapons and some extra ammo. I walked over to a locker and found my Desert Eagle. I strapped the holster on my leg and put a fresh clip in the pistol. A satisfying click ensued.
Okay men. Now we need to get to the central building.
We rushed out the door. As we did so several guards opened fired on us. We immediately returned the favor. The guards went down quickly. We moved the central building. I motioned for the men to form a postion around the door. The first man opened the door as the other threw in a primed gernade. A thud followed and we filed in. A few guards remained from the explosion. We finished them off quickly. A man ran towards the desk and looked at the computer quickly.
The comm station is down this hall 30 meters and to the left.
I nodded and motioned to head in that direction. We found little resistance in getting to the comm station. I killed the guard with my DE and moved to the station. I turned around.
Post guards around the door. Make sure no one can get in here.
I sat down and put the headset on my head. I turned to the Legionnaire fequency.
Hello. Any Legionnaire forces out there? Do you copy? This is MechWarrior Alex Thorn. I repeat. Any Legionnaire forces out there?
Now we just had to wait to see if anyone would reply.
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Post by G.C.I. Charles E. Maxwell on Nov 14, 2005 20:45:48 GMT -5
With a thunderous crack, my twin Ultra AC/5s discharged, slamming into the upper torso of the closer of the two Initiates, sending the oncoming medium 'Mech into a stagger as it followed in hot pursuit of Captain Wolf's Vulture. My Daishi's massive feet plowed into the earth, its stubby knees absorbing the impact as a low 'boom' echoed through its gargantuan chassis. The booster packs blew away, clattering to the ground, a trio of laser beams arcing past my left flank as Lance Commander Martinez's Kingfisher opened fire on the second Initiate. The first of the smaller 'Mechs broke formation, entering into a Circle of Death, charging through the park at an incredible speed. I threw my Daishi into reverse, attempting to retreat into the less-open urban sprawl. Although I was in an assault-class BattleMech capable of tearing apart nearly any lesser target, from a maneuverability standpoint, I was at a severe disadvantage, and the evasive pattern being run by the Initiate was dramatic enough that the majority of my weapon volleys missed completely.
"Maxwell to Wolf - see if you can get this guy's attention. I need you to buy me a couple of seconds. L.C. Martinez - keep your Tango busy."
"Roger that, Maxwell. I'll see what I can do."
A hail of tracer rounds tore into the Initiate's flank, sounding off with the scream of tortured metal as Captain Wolf's Vuture discharged its machine guns into the 40-ton assailant. The Initiate twisted its torso away from me, lobbing a volley of LRM fire toward the Legionnaire in retaliation. I took the opportunity to send a salvo of combined-arms fire into the Initiate's rear armor, searing off the thin layer of ferrosteel plating that protected its critical internal components. The Initiate crashed to the ground, plowing nose-first into the soft earth, its limbs flailing wildly as its pilot fought to right it. Near-supersonic rounds spat from my Daishi's prow, coring into the unfortunate 'Mech's exposed rear quarter, while tandem laser volleys transformed sections of its endosteel frame into molten slag.
Several furious missile barrages took flight from Captain Wolf's OmniMech, leaving smoky contrails hanging in the air as they spiraled toward their target. The Initiate, which had just begun to rise, was again thrown to the earth, its fusion reactor spilling rays of ultrablue light across the park as the missiles tore through the casing. An ejection pod rocketed skyward moments before the fallen BattleMech was consumed by the hellish fires dwelling deep within it.
Turning my attentions toward the second Initiate, which had already been ravaged by Martinez's 90-ton Kingfisher, I fired several parting rounds into its smoldering carcass, dispatching the lesser 'Mech in a thunderous explosion that defied the very heavens in its volume and depth. As the smoke cleared, the savaged park fell quiet, and I opened the comm channel once again.
"Captain Wolf...General Maxwell. How're you holding up over there?"
"I'm still in one piece. Thanks for the assist. Where'd the rest of your lance end up?"
"They dropped slightly to the north of our location - we detected a friendly Mad Cat dancing with a couple quad 'Mechs on the way down - figured the pilot might need a hand mopping up. Benjamin and MacArthur will meet up with us later on."
There came a long pause.
"Benjamin...? Benjamin...Maxwell?"
"One in the same! What's our next target?"
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Post by Jason McRamm on Nov 14, 2005 21:57:16 GMT -5
“McRamm… McRamm can you hear me?”
My faceplate fogged with my hot breath as I tried to rub my chest were it felt like I’d been hit by a hovertruck.
“That Wobbie SOB got you good didn’t he?”
Between coughs I managed a response. “Damn, I think he got one of my ribs.”
During a heavy firefight between the Sergeant’s Longinus squad, assigned to Doctor Saturina, one of the Blakist bastards caught me with a high-caliber gauss round to the chest. I’d be ok, I just had to make sure another one of those things didn’t hit me—I could probably survive another hit or two but they hurt more and more each time. With great effort, I managed to stand, my suit’s myomer muscles matching the movement of my own.
“McRamm! Get over here!”
“Yes sir?”
“The Doctor has just informed me that the MASH picked up a signal about twenty blocks to the southeast. Thorn and many captured Legionnaires and militia are being held there—they’ve taken a small comm room but can’t hold out for long. We need to get in that base and secure it so the doctor can take care of the wounded. Apparently the Blakists have already started their brainwashing process on a few of the men so things might get interesting. So if you wouldn’t mind… take up your damn position!”
As the squad’s junior member I was used to poor treatment, but whatever the Sarge dished out Doctor Saturina made up for…getting hurt wasn’t so bad when she was around to take care of you. Falling into formation I headed out with the Squad, making the journey southwards. All around us smoke emanated from destroyed vehicles and ‘mechs. Occasionally, we’d see a Blakist scout car feeling in the distance or a small infantry band on a mission of some sort, but they were always several blocks away. At one point, we encountered a pair of enemy Longinus troopers equipped similarly to us. It was obvious though that they’d already taken damage like myself for the first trooper went down under a single shot from my laser, and the second had to contend with fire from the entire platoon. As we continued southward the scenery began to change—the ground was no longer littered with burning wreckage—we were out of ComStar’s attack corridor—it would mean fresh enemies.
The first sign of the attack was an errant SRM, fired lazily into the platoon. Without proper aiming, the rogue SRM smashed into a shop to our right, blowing out the windows and frying the merchandise inside. It was common knowledge that in a warzone you should never hug the walls—it’d just get you blown to bits by rocket shrapnel. By staying in the middle of the street you were more exposed to small-arms fire, but unless fired from above a missile wouldn’t detonate until it either hit you or hit a wall—and a wall was a much bigger target. Perhaps peeking around to check his handy work, the Blakist soldier, while simultaneously reloading his SRM launcher, looked around the corner. He was greeted by the brightest light that he’d ever seen—in fact it was the last thing he ever saw. One of the eight man squad’s veteran members had popped the guy from two hundred meters away—now that was marksmanship.
“Nice shot Sir.”
“We’re going to need a whole lot of nice shooting in a second, do you hear that?”
Pausing for a moment I turned up my audio enhancers, scanning the soundbands for any spikes. There it was, a rhythmic pounding, the most dangerous kind. Like some kind of ancient giant, a fat head poked itself around the street’s intersection—it looked like someone had taken a garbage can and added stubby little legs. The UrbanMech, often underestimated, was designed precisely as its name implied it was, for urban warfare. What it sacrificed for speed it made up for in armor and weapons—it had the firepower of a medium ‘mech, weighing in on the heavy side, on the chassis of a light ‘mech. However, the ‘mech moved ponderously slow—slower than most assault ‘mechs. Its one redeeming feature concerning its maneuverability was its jumpjets—something which it utilized simultaneously with my thought. The moment the ‘mech began to lift off the ground my comm chirped.
“All right men, just like in training—shoot two.”
In unison, the eight Longinus BattleArmors fired off their SRM packs, sending sixteen of the burning warheads towards the enemy. Having not even reached its peak, the UrbanMech was greeted with fourteen fiery explosions; two of the missiles had collided in mid-air. Knocked off its thrust column, with its front armor breached, the ‘mech fell backwards, smashing through an apartment building, breaking all the way to the first floor. Something was clearly wrong with either the ‘mech or the pilot because the giant beast didn’t move again. With the SRM packs utilized the Longinus squad was free to use its jumpjets to expedite the journey.
“Archangel to Groundhog-1, we’re coming up on that transmission origin, the camp should be just around the corner to the left.”
As expected, the moment we swept around the corner we were greeted with a visual. Standing a few hundred meters away was a school of some sort, from my guess a secondary school, but its play structures and gardens had been trampled by the heavy feet of BattleMechs. Erected hastily in the center of the playground stood a guard tower—a gun barrel prominently featured at its top.
“Rush ‘em”
Sprinting forward as fast as I could with the MASH truck behind, I fired by laser at the tower. Unfortunately, do to my speed I was unable to get my shots anywhere near the tower. A few of the more experienced soldiers’ shots actually hit the structure, and although it wasn’t pretty, it was sturdy, it deflected the shots no problem. When we were about half-way down the street the tower guard finally responded—it was late, but still damn effective. Housed at the top of the tower was an infantryman’s nightmare, a rotary autocannon. Unlike a standard autocannon, a RAC could spit out continuous fire, giving it the ability to mow down ranks of small units. Looking up at the tower I saw that the barrels were spinning—and pointed right at me.
Perhaps Groundhogs seven, six, and five were just unlucky—or I was simply the luckiest man alive. Mistaking the time it took for the barrels to get up to full speed, the gunner panned the weapon from left to right across our chevron formation squad—the weapon didn’t start up until it had passed over me on the far right flank. With a horrible roar the RAC spat out 50mm rounds, ripping through the three men to my left. Letting out my own roar I hit my jumpjets, sailing forwards towards the tower. Swinging his weapon back to the left, the gunner managed to catch me with one round as I collided with the tower, sending a shock strong enough to collapse my right lung as my own broken rib punctured it. The BattleArmor was great at stopping reasonable amounts of laser and projectile fire, but two heavy-duty rounds in the same location was too much. Fortunately, the round didn’t penetrate, but I could barely stand. With much effort, I brought my laser forward, burning through the chest of the tower guard. Swinging the large weapon around I found that it locked parallel to the camp’s wall—I couldn't use it against the remaining defenders. With the main gate blown the MASH sped into the camp, taking small arms fire from one of the school’s upper story windows. Raising my laser once more I fired into the window, hopefully eliminating the threat to the medical team. I was about to jump from my position when I heard that damn sound again—the rhythmic beat of a Battlemech’s feet. Turning around, I saw to my horror, a metal giant slowly walking towards me. Spinning the RAC around once again I checked the feed and pulled the trigger—it was the least I could do.
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Post by The 'Mech Dealer on Nov 15, 2005 5:39:55 GMT -5
Gunman in his Vulture had been cut off from the rest of us by a falling building. Obviously a trap set by those damned Blakists, meant to have crushed us underneath the rubble.
Instead it had split the lance, Gunman on his own and me with Morgan and that clanner girl of his. Morgan was given charge of the impromptu short lance and told to rendevous with Gunman at some park not far away.
It might have been close as the crow flies, but with our mechs we had to make several detours to find streets wide enough and not choked with building debris, that we could traverse. Morgan and I could jump most of the obsticles, but the Archer lacked jump jets, so we all had to stick together.
As we were nearing the park in question, we passed by a multistory car park, the sort that civilians use to store their cars during the day while they are in the city. Morgan was leading our unit, sensors on overtime, searching for any ambushes. He must have found something, or some natural instinct warned him, for suddenly he raised his mech's right arm in that well known military fashion of halt and turned towards the car park.
Without warning a hail of high velocity, depleated uranium shells ripped into the Archer’s upper torso. Two Blakist Demolisher II tanks had laid in ambush in the upper levels of the car park, choosing a level that was approximately head high on a mech. One of the massive autocannon shells smashed the building opposite, burrowing deep in to the interior of the building, pulverising all in it's wake. The other three shells from the two massive ultra 20 autocannons ripped into the torso of Aliesha’s Archer. They must have damaged her engine shielding, because there was a sudden heat spike from the Archer. The twin Demolisher IIs then followed up with their most deadly strike. Both fired their LB-20x autocannons with cluster submunitions, saturating the area with tiny, but equally deadly depleated uranium mini shells. Detecting an imminent reactor breach, Aliesha’s Archer ejected her to safety, directly into the hail of autocannon submunitions. Her command chair and she herself were instantly crushed by multiple submunitions, shattering her and the chair and embedding the grissly remains in the side of the building opposite, near where the larger Ultra 20 shell had burrowed in earlier.
The explosion of her Archer’s reactor, burnt the few remains of Aliesha and her command chair, leaving no doubt as to her death.
Aliesha's death seemed to unleash a fury in Blake. His mech turned towards the car park building and spreading the legs of the Zeus slightly to brace himself he launched wave after wave of long range missiles and energy beams at the car park complex. After a few moments of shocked inaction, I added my own weapons fire to the Demolishers and the complex they were in, but I doubt that Blake even took his thumb from the firing stud, his LRMs were firing so rapidly.
Even after the complex collapsed, sending the hapless Demolishers, several stories to the ground and under a massive pile of rubble, Blake continued to fire his LRMs and lasers. Only when he had apparently run out of ammunition did his firing cease.
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Post by Dr. Jessica Saturina on Nov 15, 2005 13:12:00 GMT -5
We had received a radio transmission from Thorn, whom to our knowledge had been killed in the first battle. I was so happy to hear that he had survived. The only problem was he along with others had been captured and put into a retraining camp. Basically a place they did two things. Tortured them for information, and brainwashed them to become part of the WOB. I was glad that Thorn did not appear to have gone through the brainwashing process.
After informing the ground infantry of the transmission and zeroing in on the location we took off toward the position of the camp. One of the Longinus battle armor team was leading us in. Jason McRamm was his name. Very brave guy. He didn't hesitate to charge in weapons blazing. We followed him in. He was covering us the best he could. In fact from where I was it looked like he was in trouble. There had to be a mech somewhere close by to help him in this fight. The ground infantry was busy securing the building. The mech coming in behind us was going to present a very dangerous opponent for the ground infantry and the longinus.
I radioed over an open comm, stating our position and the status of things here. All we could do is hope someone was close enough and clear to come to help. I was almost sure it would take another mech to take down the one currently trying to make short work of Jason. The sad thing is there was nothing we could do. What little fire power the MASH had was a joke, it would be like flies buzzing around. More of a pest then anything else. I ordered Reeves to try anyway, to fire at the back of the offending mech. Hoping it would at least keep him from concentrating so intensely on Jason's position.
Meanwhile I gathered up my medical bags, ordered the side door down so I could go out and check on the guys that had been taken down by the RAC. I doubted they would be alive but I couldn't risk that, they might be. Adams geared up and went with me. Trying to work with live ammunition flying about was not easy, but I was used to it. I had never had anyone fire upon me, probably because they could see I was medical and mostly because I was unarmed. I didn't really know. Although these blakist dogs were not honorable. They would most likely take us out without a thought. I didn't care though. Risking my life was part of the job and I was more then willing to take that risk.
I also seen some of the longinus jump onto the mech in question, it looked as if they might be strapping explosives to his legs as he approached. He was so busy dealing with Jason and the RAC He didn't even noticed the threat.
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Post by Lance Commander William Rhodes on Nov 15, 2005 15:06:00 GMT -5
Sweat poured down William's face in the furnace that was the Verfolger's cockpit. All around him the buildings of Gellen's Heights were engulfed in smoke and flames. Laser fire and tracers streaked across the sky, smashing ferocrete to pieces and blasting glass shards and steel shrapnel into deadly clouds. Most of the battle armor had now dispersed but the Word of Blake was committing its Mech forces.
Smart...softening us up with the battle armor and then sending in the big boys when we're tired and vulnerable. Bastards...
PPC, lasers, and autocannon fire from Bucephalus flailed at the approaching white clad enemy Mechs, stripping off sheets of melting armor and cracking endo-steel bones. Each salvo brought a return volley from the enemy, weakening William's Mech, though he did his best to avoid most of the enemy fire, helped by the spinning barrels of his AMS. And each volley spiked the temperature of the Mech's fusion plant higher, threatening to overwhelm Rhodes with heat stroke.
death dealing giants and the com-net was filled with The heat brought William to a point of semi-delirium, and for a moment he thought he was back in the blood soaked streets of Hampton's Creek on Kathil during the Fed Com Civil War. Instead of white Blake machines, he saw the blue and gold Mechs of the 8th Fed Com RCT, gaping holes punched in their ragged melting armor plate. Civillians ran screaming from the cries of agony and despair. Somewhere in this hellish inferno was Jennifer's Uziel. His lover...his enemy...
The crunch of impacting autocannon rounds lurched William back into the reality of the present. Eagle Lance was doing its best to press on into the city towards the concentrated elements of the Blakists around the HPG. The Com Guards were already slugging it out there and from the sound of things they were making little progress amid the ash and impact craters. Their drive was stalled in a small park. Once a pleasant spot of repose, the park's trees had been blasted to splinters and the winding gravel paths had been torn up by the stomp of heavy Mech feet.
I just hope when its all done, there will be something left of Sheratan...
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Post by The 'Mech Dealer on Nov 15, 2005 15:26:37 GMT -5
Strange how in a city, the centre of civilization and hub of activity, the simplest things didn't work. With all the tall buildings, communications were sometimes a hit and miss affair. I couldn't raise Wolf or any of the other Legionnaire mechs besides Morgan who was standing right next to me. I got a few Comstar mechs, but they weren't who I was after.
We had made it to the park, or at least a patch of ground with no buildings on it. The earth had been churned over as if it was being preped for farming, the trees were blackened, sooty stumps. The whole place appeared to have been clear-felled just for the hell of it.
There was no sign of Wolf or any other mechs for that matter, either Comstar or Word of Blake. I did get a faint and distorted message coming from a Dr. Saturina though. Something about a re-education camp. I couldn't make much out from the message.
Morgan seemed to have retreated into a shell. The death of Aliesha appeared to have hit him much harder than just the death of a comrade. It was almost as if he were mourning a lover, but as far as I knew there was never anything between Morgan and Aliesha.
Morgan was in his own world, seemingly oblivous to all around him. I would have to call the shots if I wanted to survive, I certainly couldn't rely on a cognative response from Morgan.
He must have heard the same message as I did and been able to decipher it. He certainly appeared to know who this Dr. Saturina was. All he kept saying over the comm was "must save the Doctor, must save the Doctor". Suddenly his mech shot off at maximum speed, heading SouthEast, towards were the signal was originating from. As we travelled the signal got stronger, a clear indication we were headed in the correct direction.
Coming upto what appeared to be a school or college, our external mics picked up sounds of small calibre machine gun and small arms fire. The suddenly from behind a taller building a white mech strode into view. The Blakist's symbol clearly visible on the shoulder of the Thunderbolt mech. Battle Armour could be seen jetting around the Thunderbolt, peppering it with their weapons.
There was a roar of fury over the open comms system and Morgan's Zeus leapt forward, aimed straight at the Blakist's mech. The boundary wall of the school, was smashed aside, bricks, mortar and rubble flying in all directions as Morgan barrelled through. I hoped that there were no friendlies caught up in Morgan's path of destruction. They wouldn't stand a chance. The legs of his Zeus brushed one of the buildings, tearing the wall facing right off. A cloud of dust billowing up as it landed behind Morgan's wake.
Just as the Blakist Thunderbolt turned to face Morgan, an explosion went off at the back of one of it's knees. The battle armour had obviously set a satchel charge there to disable the mech. Twisting on the same leg, it snapped off at the knee under the enormous stress it was under and the Thunderbolt fell at Morgan's feet.
Even before it had hit the ground, Morgan had begun bathing the hapless mech in weapons fire. His PPC lancing out in blue flames over the Thunderbolt. His lasers adding bolt after bolt of red and green energy darts in to the fray.
The Thunderbolt tried feebly to raise itself on one arm, to get some purchase underneath itself and make some attempt to fight back. Morgan raised the right arm of his Zeus, the LRM launcher shaped like a gigantic club and bashed the thunderbolt across the shoulders, sending it uncerimoniously back to the ground. Morgan's weapons fire had stopped but this wasn't the end of his attack on the Thunderbolt. A kick to the side of the head, almost ripped the head from the Thunderbolt, but a few remaining bolts held it in place. Morgan raised the foot of his Zeus and brought it crashing down on the remains of the Thunderbolt's head. Smashing the head and pulverising the pilot inside.
Even this did not seem to sate Morgan's anger and fury. Kicking, stomping, even using jumpjets to jump on the remains of the Thunderbolt, Morgan reduced it to scrap, component parts flying off in all directions, under the pressure of an 80 ton avatar of homicidal destruction attempting to erase it's existance from the universe.
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Post by Captain Adam "Gunman" Wolf on Nov 15, 2005 19:14:40 GMT -5
The almost brutal efficiency that the Daishi and KingFisher dispatched the two Initiates with was a very welcome sight for me, having at least 2, and most likely 4, additional mechwarriors that were experienced and well trained was more precious than anything else right now.
Captain Wolf ... General Maxwell. How're you holding up over there?
I'm still in one piece. Thanks for the assist. Where'd the rest of your lance end up?
The comm channel crackled to life as the pilot of the Daishi contacted me, a steady but bearable static could be heard in the background indicating that the comm system had suffered additional damage during the conflict. The General's response left me speechless for some time as it was the last thing I had been expecting to hear.
They dropped slightly north of our location - we detected a friendly Mad Cat dancing with a couple of Quad 'mechs on the way down - figured the pilot might need a hand mopping up. Benjamin and MacArthur will meet up with us later on.
The mention of a Benjamin sent my mind racing, Is it possible that it could be Ben Maxwell, after all this General here is a Maxwell.Finally gathering my thoughts after what seemed like a very long time I hit the comm.
Benjamin ... ? Benjamin ... Maxwell?
One in the same! What's our next target?
The response was a welcome one, I never thought I'd get to see my good friend Ben again after the MRBC forcefully removed him from command, let alone fight along side him, yet here he was back to to lend a helping hand, and he brought some friends. This time I didnt waste any time toggling the comm to respond.
Well its definately good to hear he made it out of the system in time, even better to know he's here to help us. I see he hasn't lost his knack for timing and if you're related, which I'm assuming you are, it must run in the family. My lance was originally suppose to hit a Vehicle factory and storage complex about 5 blocks south of here but we got seperated in an ambush. The rest of Rook lance were suppose to move into a park about a click West South West from here. I haven't heard from them since we separated. That Mad Cat you mentioned earlier probably belongs to Knight Lance, they were north of us striking towards a re-education camp, we were to meet up with them upon securing the vehicle facility. You're more than welcome to assist us, we can link up with the rest of your lance at the re-education camp, ... unless of course you want to meet them now. And General... when this is over and we get a chance, I'd like to have a talk with you, and with Ben.
As I was rambling off orders as to what we were doing I realized that this Charles Maxwell was a General and, no matter the military, quite a Senior Officer compared to my Captain rank. Adding in the part giving the General the choice of what to do I hoped he wouldn't take offence to my seemingly ordering him, a slight hesitation in the response caused a brief wave of unnecessary anxiety to wash over me before the comm crackled to life again.
Sounds good. Martinez and I will accompany you to link up with your lance and assist with the assault on your primary target unless we are needed by Benjamin and MacArthur. As far as the talk is concerned, there will be time and place later.
Running a systems check I spun my 'mech around to face back towards where Rook Lance was suppose to be waiting, looking out the sides of my extended cockpit, mostly towards the left side, I noticed that my 'mech probably looked worse than it actually was. The blackened armour, combined with weapons fire spread across the chassis, deep pock marks and large gashes made the armour appear to be on its last leg. Plus the various scraps and larger chunks of armour that lay partially hanging from the lower layers of armour along the left leg and torso added to the already dismal appearance. In actuality though my 'mech had about 50% armour across the entire left side and both legs, while the rest, save the right rear torso, was still near 100%. All in all the computer stated that my 'mechs overall armour was around 68%, not great, but still manageable.
Having feed the navigational data to General Maxwell's Daishi, as well as to the KingFisher, Charles suggested that he lead while I remained between the two Assault 'mechs due to my Vulture's condition. Despite my protests and arguements to the contrary the General lead his Daishi into the city streets first, followed my my wounded Vulture while the rear was brought up by Martinez's Kingfisher. The 3 behemoth war machines waded slowly through the city streets, picking their way through rubble and debris, occassionaly having to clear the way with weapons fire. Our small column was actually quite safe from ambushes despite the confined spaces, Maxwell covered the forward firing arcs easily as we proceeded. Meanwhile Martinez walked his Kingfisher backwards with incredible skil allowing him to give full cover to the rear. That left myself in the center to cover left, right, and above, although both of the others were covering left and right as well. The considerably fast torso twist speed of my Vulture combined with the chin-mounted turret and reversible arms, allowed me to easily cover multiple firing arcs and would help bring my weapons to bear on a threat more quickly than the two larger 'mechs.
As the 3 pairs of armoured feet impacted the ferro-crete, almost in unison, with a steady rhythmn I tried contacting Rook lance to inform them of our new friends and to find out what their situation was.
Rook-1 to Rook-2, come in Rook-2.
Nothing but silence came back, trying again I said Rook-2, this is Rook-1, please respond.
Again nothing came back, not even garbled static. Beginning to worry a bit I double checked my comm system to make sure it hadn't failed and that we weren't being jammed, then boosted the comm system's power and tried yet again.
Blake are you there? This is Captain Wolf. Respond. What is your situation?
This time a brief blurb of background static was heard almost like a shotgun blast through the comm speakers, nothing more than background interference due to the boosted power. Frustrated I tried to raise anyone from Rook Lance, switching from Rook-2s private frequency to the lance wide one.
Rook Lance, this is Rook-1, do you copy?
Once more silence followed, slamming my fist down on the comm unit I tried once again to raise someone, frustration clearly seeping into my voice.
Rook Lance, this is Wolf, is any body there? Respond damnit!
I almost wished that the Mech Dealer hadn't responded, although I was glad to have finally contacted Rook Lance, the news that awaited me was the last thing I wanted to hear.
This is Rook-3, I copy you Rook-1.
There was a solemness in the Mech Dealer's voice that I found disturbing and I was almost apprehensive to ask what was going on.
Rook-3, What's your situation? Why can't I raise anyone else?
I almost didn't want to know the answer to my questions, and the hesitation before the reply didnt help any.
Our situation is ... is not so good. Rook-4 is down and out, and I mean for good, there's no point in even sending a recovery squad. Rook-2 is nearly out of ammo and in not responding in any comprehensive manner.
As if on cue the comm suddenly erupted into a slew of curse words, threats and insults. The words were barely discernable as the enraged man rambled off every curse known to him, both Inner Sphere and Clan alike, at least twice, each insult and curse was directed towards the 'coward stravag ****** ****** ********* Blakists' and each one only seemed to fuel the next. As unexpectedly as it came the comm went silent again, if only for a few moments, before the Mech Dealer continued on.
As you can see, he' in no condition to fight. Seeing that Clanner go down took a strange toll on him, his Zeus seems in decent condition, although nearly, if not entirely out of ammunition.
Damnit!I slammed my fists down on the console, the left landing on top of a submonitor causing the screen to distort for a second. These Blakists had claimed enough lives already, why did they have to take Aliesha as well. Gritting my teeth I toggled the comm back to Maxwell's frequency, trying not to sound too angry and frustrated.
General, things aren't as good as I had hoped for. My Lance's support 'mech is down, KIA by those Blakist scum, Rook's heavy hitter is fresh outta ammo and seems to be mentally disturbed, leaving only a Griffin as combat ready. If you're willing I'd like to enlist your help until we can meet up with the rest of your lance.
As I awaited a response our column of 'mechs stepped into the park on the opposite side of where Rook lance should have been. A pile of charred remains, barely recognizable as being once a 'mech, could be seen at the far outskirts of the park, assumably the once mighty Archer that Aliesha had piloted. The rest of Rook lance was nowhere to be seen, but they had to be close if the comm systems were working, the large buildings caused alot of interference with the regular channels and reduced the effective range of the systems by a considerable amount.
Rook-3, what is your position?
Approximately 3 blocks South East of the park, at what appears to be a school of some sort, reworked by the Blakists to be a re-education camp from the looks of it. We responded to a message from a Doctor.
Copy that, we're in route. ETA 3 minutes.
Toggling the comm back over to Maxwell's frequency again, I informed him of the new situation and the three of us moved out as quickly as we could heading towards where this camp should be, judging from its location though it was a different camp from the one originally mentioned by Garland, although intel could have been wrong on its position.
General, it seems that Rook intercepted a distress call from our Doctor, we should reach them in about 3 minutes time.
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Post by Dr. Jessica Saturina on Nov 15, 2005 19:35:00 GMT -5
Adams and myself hurried over to the three guys that had went down. We checked each of them for signs of life. Unfortunately there was none. We then started back to the MASH unit to get out of the way of flying lasers and other ammunition.
Before we could get back to the MASH, I suddenly heard a loud thundering, like giant footsteps. I looked in the direction of the noise. There was a Zeus headed toward the camp, with a Griffin behind him. He was coming in at top speed. I knew the Zeus was Morgan. I was pretty sure the Griffin was that creepy mech dealer. I was puzzled though. They were part of Rook lance. Where was Captain Wolf and Aliesha. Suddenly Morgan dove into the Blakist mech like a mad man. Not only using his weapons on him but actually hitting and kicking him like in a street fight. Morgan seemed driven. Like he was out of control like a mad man.
Adams and I got back into the MASH were we would be safe some what. I watched out the window as Morgan demolished the Blakist mech. I was not complaining, and I'm sure Jason was more then glad to see the help. As soon as the horrific fight died down it should be ok for us to start searching the buildings for our men.
"Archangel to Thorn, we are in the complex. We are about to take control. Hold on a little longer Alex. We should be getting to you soon."
"Acknowledged Doctor. Ready and waiting."
The Griffin that had come up behind Morgan just seem to stand on the edge of the complex in shock. I guess the vengeance with which Morgan took on the Blakist mech must have taken him by surprise. I tried to raise him on the radio.
"Archangel to Rook 3, what is your status? Are you ok? Where is the rest of your lance?
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Post by The 'Mech Dealer on Nov 15, 2005 22:30:54 GMT -5
Archangel, Doctor ? I presume. Wolf is inbound with two new friendlies, his eta is 3 minutes.
I paused for several seconds before continuing. I didn't know if this Doctor and Aliesha were close or not.
Rook 4 was lost in combat. KIA. As you can see, Morgan is taking it rather personally. I almost pity any Blakist mechs he comes across. Almost.
Three tags appeared on my tactical display, one was tagged as Wolf in his Vulture, the other two were listed as unknown. Morgan must have picked them up as well, for his mech swung around to cover their point of entry into the school grounds. His left arm up, the PPC pointing like a directional becon, death on the verge of being unleashed.
I hoped like hell he could hold his fire but in his current condition I knew that was a slim hope.
I backed away from Morgan and advised the Doctor to do the same with her MASH unit and any other friendlies in the area. If Morgan fired, the return fire might not be so discerning as to friend or foe.
Ponderous steps getting closer, a Daishi filled the hole Morgan himself had made through the outer wall. I could sense the conflict in his mind, the mech's arm waivered.
Morgan, they're here to help, they're friends, they're on our side.
I don't know if it was my words, the fact that the Daishi had just stood there without firing, maybe it's colors, what ever it was, the Zeus' arms dropped by the mech's sides and then the entire mech just seemed to slump. It was as if Morgan had just completely colapsed in his command chair and the mech imitated the action through the neurohelmet.
There was silence, the most deafening silence I have ever heard in the middle of a battlefield. It was as if every gun, every missile, every sound just stopped. It only lasted 30 seconds but it was the most spine chilling 30 seconds I have ever had in a battle. Not a sound anywhere and it co-incided with Morgan's mech going limp. Then slowly the sounds of combat came back almost as if they had been frightened away for a while.
With Morgan clearly no longer any kind of threat, the Daishi continued on into the school grounds, followed by Wolf and a Kingfisher elegantly walking backwards.
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Post by Dr. Jessica Saturina on Nov 16, 2005 12:24:42 GMT -5
I heard the radio transmission from Rook-3. I was stunned. Aliesha .... Dead? No wonder Morgan was acting the way he was. I knew they were close. He probably felt responsible for her. She was only 18 for god sakes. Something must of went horribly wrong for her to get killed. I knew for a fact Morgan and Aliesha were excellent mech fighters. I didn't know about the mech dealer, and apparently Wolf was not around. I would learn the details later. My heart went out to Morgan.
"Morgan, this is Jessica. Talk to me. I need to know you are alright."
There was no answer. The giant Zeus stood there slumped over like a rag doll. There was no movement and not response on the radio. He must be in a state of shock. I needed to go to him. The complex was ours, and with the other mechs there, things would be under our control. I grabbed a medical bag shouting at Reeves to open the side door. As soon as it came down I was out quickly running to the Zeus. Finally standing by the giant, opening a comm link, I spoke to Morgan in a soft voice.
"Morgan, let down the ladder. It's Jessica. I want to come up, please."
There was still no response. I couldn't get to him without him putting out the boarding ladder, or an outside ladder like the techs have. I looked around, I couldn't see anything I could use.
"Morgan ... I'm right here, it's Jessica, let me in please. I just want to make sure you are ok."
The rest of the medical team had gone into the complex buildings looking for our men. I however was not sure what to do. I was hoping he would finally listen to me and let the ladder down. I was afraid he would leave the complex, and in his mental condition try to win the battle by himself, which was suicide. At this point he probably didn't care, but I did. I had to get to him. I felt as long as I stood right there in front of him he wouldn't move. At least I hoped he wouldn't. I opened a comm channel again.
"Archangel to anybody that has an idea of how I can get to Morgan, please respond. I need to get to him, he is not in any condition to keep fighting at this point. He would only be a reckless danger to himself and possibly others. Does anyone have any ideas?
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