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Post by Assassin Saburo Kintaru on Nov 16, 2005 15:16:39 GMT -5
I was hopelessly lost in the endless sea of battle. My bloodlust was now set deeply within my body and mind. Rational thinking was nowhere in sight. Though I was only in a light mech, the Hackman, a new variable of the Owens, had proven itself upon the battlefield. My pupils were reduced to tiny dots as my vision was masked by blood red dots that faded in and out with every pulse of my heart. I gritted my teeth, widened my eyes, flared my nostrils and clenched tightly onto the two control sticks can operated the mech. My large fists were wrapped tightly around the sweaty joysticks, so tightly in fact, that my knuckles had turned a distinctive shade of white.
I thrust my Hackman forward, smashing into a large enemy mech - one that I couldn’t identify. But that didn’t matter and was by far the least of my concerns. The cockpit shock violently as I executed the ill-mannered attack. Though the gargantuan mech clearly out weighed me, that alone wasn’t enough to stop him from stumbling. The gap between us spread and as the enemy fell backwards I managed to fire off my final Gauss Cannon round. Though lady luck had been on my side most of this battle, she had obviously overlooked the favour I needed her to do. The round had missed the intended target and had impacted into the mech several meters below the cock pit. Regardless of this, I continued to fire a barrage of missiles that managed to do what the Gauss Cannon round could not. The enemy mech’s cockpit exploded as fire breathed it’s deadly soul into the small area, toasting the pilot alive. Ironically, just as the fires began to die down, the enemy mech’s emergency ejection system kicked into gear. The chair that held the recently deceased pilot smashed into the remains of a tall building several meters behind it. I chuckled manically before swinging my mech around and charging into another random direction.
I had only taken several steps in my speedy Hackman before I had ran into a group of WoB infantry men. I paused momentarily, briefly taking note of the look of fear on each and every man that had noticed me. I wide grin began to spread across my face, revealing a couple pearly white teeth. My eyes widened with excitement as I stormed through the group of roughly twenty or so men. Though I knew it wasn’t technically possible, what with the technical advances in these mechs, but I was SURE I could hear and feel my enemy’s body grind underneath my large feet. It was as if I could feel each soul extinguished by my “expression of war”. A morbid thought soon flooded my mind that, bizarrely, made sense the more I thought about it. I was no longer a pawn of war. I was an artist. I was painting out my own portrait of death. With each brush stroke I was ending the lives of those who didn’t deserve the privilege. With each new attack and every death I caused, I spilt the blood red paint of battle across the canvass that was the war zone. Then a nerving question crept into my mind. Should I be enjoying this? I soon pushed that question aside and decided I would answer that later…
As I finished my stomping, I turned around and fired off another array of missiles to finish off those that had survived the brutal trampling.
“I AM AN ARTIST!” I roar, insanity drenching my voice. With the infantry men destroyed I began to move on. Inside the cockpit, my head and eyes darted around like a blood thirsty lizard seeking out it’s pray.
[glow=red,2,300]“Tick-Tock…”[/glow]
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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 16, 2005 21:12:05 GMT -5
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.
I walked to the door. One of the men had fallen. I took his assault rifle and placed a new clip in it.
Alright men we have help coming. Just hold them off for a little longer.
The other men nodded. Just as I finished wave after wave of guards came rushing at us. I fired in short controlled bursts. I flipped the headset on.
Doc this is Thorn. Caution. Its extremely hot here. Major fire fight. Holding them off as best we can.
I flipped the mic off and fired at a guard as he rounded the corner. I pointed to two of the men.
You two watch this way.
I pointed to the other man.
You with me.
We formed up with our backs together. One man kneeled down while the other man stood. Guards kept coming. We fought and fought. Soon we were running out of ammo and had to used extremely controlled bursts. Just as the fighting died down and lucky shot struck my leg. I went down as white hot pain shot up my leg.
Dang it. I need to quit getting shot. This is the second bullet wound.
Finally the last guard fell.
Alright Doc it's clear. I have a wounded man here and I am wounded myself.
I sat down and looked at the wound. The wound was clean which was good. The bullet had exited so I didnt have to worry about the doctor having to pull it out. I checked the other wounded man. He had a bullet scrape his arm. I leaned back against the wall. Fatigue set in and I fell unconcious.
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Post by Commander Garrett Garland on Nov 17, 2005 0:40:09 GMT -5
Fifty meters up, my Shadow Hawk was a true lord of the battlefield. In truth, it was a quite a gamble to trust any building, even one with a helipad designed to carry such weights, with fifty-five tons of Battlemech. Had my ‘mech been any heavier I wouldn’t have tried it—but I’d found that the Shadow Hawk was just light enough to be supported by most helipads. With a near unobstructed view, I could see Rook lance with what seemed additional reinforcements to the east, the ComStar forces to the North, and lastly my own lance, Knight lance, below. However, something caught my eye to the northwest—a glint of metal moving out of the city. Using my ‘mech’s impressive sensor array, I located a Blakist lance withdrawing from combat. It seemed that they were pulling out of the city and heading north—but I wasn’t sure why. With a clear line of sight to Precentor Revere my communiqué easily reached her.
“This is Commander Garland to Precentor Revere, you’ve got a suspicious Blakist lance headed north-northwest from your position.”
The response came back as clear as mine had been received, but the Precentor’s voice was still hard to make out; she was under heavy fire.
“Commander, all ComStar forces are currently occupied, perhaps one of your lances can intercept the enemy of which you speak. May the peace of Focht be with you.”
I smirked at her last comment—I guess ComStar wasn’t taking the Blakist’s heretical use of their famous slogan—they’d actually changed a phrase which they’d used for centuries, replacing ‘Blake’ with ‘Focht’. If I was feeling nostalgic I could always talk to a Wobbie. A break in traditions though, very unlike ComStar—perhaps they were going to secularize. Acting as a communication node, I sent out my next broadcast to all of the Legionnaire forces within sight and range.
“This is Knight-1 to all Legionnaires, we’ve got trouble brewing to the northeast. From my vantage point I can see a Blakist reinforced assault and heavy lance making their way northwards… something seems fishy to me. I don’t think they’re expecting to be seen; they’re moving slow, quiet, and cold—I can’t even see them on thermal.
Rook-1, it looks like you’ve got some company—what’s going on?”
I waited for a moment, and I finally received a response, but it was not the voice of Wolf. “Commander, this is General Charles Edward Maxwell of Crayven Securities, Incorporated. My lance has landed to help fend off the Blakist incursion—you may know my second, Captain Benjamin Maxwell.”
Interesting, very interesting indeed. However, I’d had enough high-ranking officers pull my command from under my feet—hopefully the General would play along and take orders from a Commander. “I know him quite well, General. If you and Captain Wolf would be so kind, there is a Blakist lance breaking off from the city which seems suspicious to me—I think they’re heading north, but that’s not exactly the best escape route—they really should be heading towards the Camerons. I wouldn’t want to get caught out on the plains for too long—ComStar’s aerospace assets are bound to be checking for forces leaving the city after they finish up in orbit…”
Before I could continue a surprising voice entered the comm. “Commander, this is Leftenant Emma Mirado, did you say north sir?”
“Yes I did Leftenant—you know what they’re doing?”
“Damocles lake—the dam sir.”
Of course! If they couldn’t win in Gellen’s Heights they could make sure that this battle would have no winners. Several kilometers to the north of Gellen’s Heights was the aptly named Damocles Lake. Like the fabled Sword of Damocles, Damocles Lake was held above the head of Gellen’s Heights—forever threatening to unleash its watery fury upon the city. In fact, some of the lake did make it to the city, the high water pressure from the higher altitude lake fed the city’s numerous fountains like Rome of old, except this time the aqueducts were subterranean. The only thing holding the Lake at bay was that damn dam—if the Blakists managed to rupture the dam then all would be lost.
“Alright people, you know what’s at stake here and you know what we have to do. Rooks, I know you’ve suffered casualties—bring what you can. General, I know your ‘mech’s are slow, but you can tear out of this city like none other—we need a way out. Lets do it.”
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Post by The 'Mech Dealer on Nov 17, 2005 2:05:50 GMT -5
“Alright people, you know what’s at stake here and you know what we have to do. Rooks, I know you’ve suffered casualties—bring what you can. General, I know your ‘mech’s are slow, but you can tear out of this city line none other—we need a way out. Lets do it.”
No sooner had Commander Garland issued the order to move out North, than Morgan's mech sprang to life. You could almost see the tension in the limbs of the mech, the torso swivelled around, acting like a compass finding it's bearing. Pointing North, Morgan headed out, crashing through another external wall. Thankfully there were no buildings or people in the way. I doubt he would have noticed or deviated from his path.
For an 80 ton mech, that Zeus could move amazingly fast. With hugh strides eating up the distance and even using his jump jets to hurdle debris and rubble, Morgan soon had a decent head start on everyone else. Wolf and I had a devil of time just trying to keep up with him. The skill and gracefulness of Morgan's piloting was a true wonder to be seen. It would have been something to marvel over if we both didn't know he was hell bent on destruction at the destination of his quest.
Morgan had become one with his Zeus and was moving with a speed neither Wolf or I could could sustain, despite both of us being in technically faster mechs.
At one point we saw a smaller Blakist mech step into Morgan's path, apparently to challenge him. Morgen ran him down without deviating or slowing, leaving the Blakist mech half crumpled behind him. Wolf and I lost precious minutes putting the determined Blakist down before we could continue our pursuit of Morgan.
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Post by Gen Miyamoto on Nov 17, 2005 18:10:53 GMT -5
I had swung around to flank the infantry resistance, and hopefully foil and surprises they might have prepared. As I came about a huge skyscraper I recieved a transmission from Garland.
“This is Knight-1 to all Legionnaires, we’ve got trouble brewing to the northeast. From my vantage point I can see a Blakist reinforced assault and heavy lance making their way northwards… something seems fishy to me. I don’t think they’re expecting to be seen; they’re moving slow, quiet, and cold—I can’t even see them on thermal."
I didn't hear any coordinating or orders after that. A Myrmidon had nailed my mech in the head, sending my equpiement into disarray and perminanently destroying my communications system. I battled paralyzing fear as memories of being hit while in the cockpit flooded back to me. I managed to win out and blast the tank with LRMs and laser fire, but not without my confidence being shattered. I was scarred for once. I felt....mortal.
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Post by Lance Commander William Rhodes on Nov 17, 2005 21:33:04 GMT -5
William couldn't believe his ears as the transmission came over the radio.
Damocles Lake!!! Are the Blakists that crazy? They'll drown themselves along with the rest of us! But then again, I've learned to expect the absolute worst from these fanatics. Forget the Ares Conventions when it comes to these guys.
Moving out with the rest of Knight Lance, Rhodes stepped over the shattered remains of a Blakist Shadow Hawk that he had just finished pummeling into scrap with his PPC and autocannon. It was one of the new models with the NAIS rotary autocannon, but it wouldn't be harming anyone ever again after the Verfolger got through with it.
Knight Lance punched through the encircling ring of Blakist Mechs, which was starting to thin out as the Word commander shifted his forces to try and take out the dam above Gellen's Heights. Laser and missile fire filed the smoke shrouded air as the Legionnaires advanced in a race against time, pushing the enemy back towards the HPG station where the Com Guards were currently engaged.
The only piece of good news seemed to be the return of Captain Maxwell and a lance of fresh Mechs.
Let's just hope they're enough...
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Post by Captain Adam "Gunman" Wolf on Nov 18, 2005 10:04:34 GMT -5
Mere moments after recieving the communique from Commander Garland, Morgan's Zeus was barrelling along through the city streets heading due north. It was apparent that the poor man's mind had reverted in upon itself and was left with a truly one track mind. At this point in time the only thought that seemed to be running through the shattered man's head was "Kill all Blakists!".
Quickly pivoting my torso about in a complete 180 degree arc, I visually and electronically scanned the area for any enemy units. With everything showing clear, I sent a brief comm to Rook-3, followed by a second communication to General Maxwell.
Rook-3, you heard the Commander, fall in and let's get out of the city. Also contact ArchAngel to inform them of the situation in case they missed the transmission, my low frequency comm is out. Although the Mech Dealer had already fallen in as we made our way out of the re-education camp, taking the same path as the 80-ton hell bent machine before us, I gave the order just the same to try and hold some conformity within the shattered Rook lance.
General, as you've heard we've just been reassigned, looks like the vehicle depot is going to have to wait. I'd advise you head straight north sir and avoid any conflicts, Rook-3 and I should be able to deal with any unoccupied hostiles til we clear the city. Our faster 'mechs won't have any difficulty catching up once we in the open plains.
Copy that Wolf, will do. We'll soften up any targets along the way for you though.
As Maxwell and Martinez's Daishi and Kingfisher lumbered through the re-education camp, leaving through another exit that provided a more open and thereby quicker exit for the slow plodding beasts which had extreme difficulty maneouvering through the much narrower pathways recently used by Morgan. Small movement caught my eye off to the left as I neared the exit which the Zeus had made, a unit of Battle Armour was standing outside of a building, several bodies dressed in Blakist garb were strewn about the courtyard styled openings between buildings while the M.A.S.H. unit could be seen parked in the background with activity around it. The small Battle Armour had his right arm raised up and motioning as though trying to get attention. Twisting my torso to the left I looked closer and saw that he had the Battle Claw on the left arm positioned in a manner that came as close to passing as a thumbs up as possible. Raising and lowering my torso I simulated a knodding motion hoping the trooper would understand, I quick wave of his hand and a salute indicated he had and I spun the torso back forward and plowed my way through the debris out into the narrow city streets.
A series of low hardened buildings lay to the right side of the street, the industrial section of the city stereotypically displayed through the low reinforced structures of various warehouses and storage facilities, while small run-down apartments lined the side streets intersperced with a factory or two of some sort. The Mech Dealer utilized his 'mechs jump jets to good effect as he ran across the building tops that could support his weight, my own Vulture, lacking jump jets, was restricted to the narrow city streets and had to slow down at several points just to make it safely through the tight confines or the rubble strewn about the road. While the Griffin kept pace with me, he too was delayed by debris and weaker buildings, as well as trying to keep steady footing and his heat down. Ahead of us Morgan's Zeus could be seen tramping through the street, slamming through the corners of buildings and shrugging it off as though it was nothing, the stronger buildings scrapping long gashes through the armour as their reinforced walls slowly gave way to the lumbering monster. Although hard to see, weapons fire could clearly be heard ahead, followed by the slumping on a Blakist 'mech against a building while the 80-ton war machine barrelled past without so much as a second glance. When Rook-3 and I reached the location, the Blakist had already regained its footing and launched a deadly barrage of weapons fire upon us.
As the Mech Dealer shot his Griffin around to the 'mechs rear atop the buildings, I squeezed off several rounds with my medium pulse lasers, wanting to save my precious LRM and SRM ammo for the battle at the dam where longer ranged weaponry was needed and short range punch would be critical. The limited damage provided from the pulse lasers did little more than annoy the 'mech until a PPC round cleaved into the 'mechs torso armour. The Griffin had found a good shot and taken it, the right rear armour was gaping wide open and fresh smoke was pouring out of the wounded 'mech while numerous emerald energy bolts lashed out striking into the 'mechs forward armour. Precious time was ticking by as the Mech Dealer and I widdled down the Blakist attacker, taking much longer to down the enemy then either of would have prefered, but limited mobility and ammunition reduced our combat ability far more than we had anticipated. Suddenly a set of AC rounds screamed into the battle from a side street, the medium calibre rounds shattering the weakened armour on the left arm of the Blakist before sheering it clean off. A few moments later a barrage of laser fire blasted in from the same side street, the rounds doing little more than striking into various buildings and simply distracting the Blakist long enough for the Mech Dealer to land another devasting PPC into the rear of the now demolished 'mech. Looking across the lower buildings I caught a glimpse of a Daishi and Kingfisher slowly progressing along through the wider streets. Toggling the comm I thanked the General for the help as Rook-3 and I once again headed off down the narrow confines of the industrial sector, following the mighty Zeus' trail of debris.
Breaking free of the city limits, we spotted Morgan well on his way to the Dam, about half way between us and him we could see General Maxwell and what was assumed to be the rest of the Crayven Securites Inc. lance. Twin Daishis flanked by a Catapult and Kingfisher strode their way along the open plains, their armour still fresh and glinting in the low hanging sun. Finally in the clear both the Mech Dealer and I slammed down on the throttle, rocketing our 'mechs up to their identical maximum speed of 86km/h. The heavy beasts lunged in an almost ungainly fashion as the torsos rolled gently against their actuators with the steady pounding of their endosteel chassis' against the hard ground. The distance between the Crayven Security forces and Rook lance could easily be seen decreasing as Rook lance was faster by around 30 km/h. Toggling the comm I radioed Commander Garland to update him on our progress, he must have either already cleared or was close to clearing the city himself, or at the very least still in a position to recieve and send transmissions with ease.
Knight-1, this is Wolf, Rook lance has cleared the city. Rook-2 has gone rogue and won't respond but he's still heading on the right track towards the dam. General Maxwell and his lance has cleared the city ahead of us, and is approaching the dam. My radar is only picking up 1 set of enemy sigs. Looks to be a reinforced Level I Heavy, 3 'mechs and support. How many units did you spot?
Rook-1, copy that. Move to and defend that dam. I spotted several units, more than you're reporting, remember they're running silent, be on the look out.
Toggling the comm over to the Crayven Securities' channel I opened the channel to General Maxwell.
General this is Wolf, we are to engage any and all hostiles and to take and hold the dam. Knight lance reports several visual contacts, running silent so watch for ambushes. General, what is your lance's callsign? ..... and Benjamin, its good to see you again, I see you've still got your toy.
A brief response was sent back from the General informing me of their call sign and an acknowledgement of possible hidden enemy units, followed by a curteous yet short reply from Benjamin, underlaid with his usual good humour despite rather hostile situations.
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Post by G.C.I. Charles E. Maxwell on Nov 18, 2005 19:23:33 GMT -5
A brief flurry of communication activity danced across my comm unit as Benjamin and MacArthur checked in. Though we had linked up in the urban sprawl of Gellen's Heights, the tactical coordination being conducted at the time of their rendezvous prevented any sort of debriefing that might have taken place. I now found myself multitasking, scanning my HUD in an attempt to make a threat assessment, while listening to Benjamin's post-combat report.
"…we found Thastus heavily engaged with a White Flame and a Red Shift that had cornered her in a cargo yard. A couple of shots took out the 'Shift, and the 'Flame wasn't much of a challenge after that. Her Mad Cat is still definitely combat-ready."
"Good to hear. Is she sticking with us, or will she be linking up with her lance?"
"She wanted to stay with us, but her rear armor was almost totally gone. I instructed her to fall back to the recovery rig to get it patched up before she went back into battle."
I chuckled.
"Our recovery rig, or theirs?"
"Ours. Theirs was pretty well obliterated in the nuclear strike."
"I'm docking the cost of that armor from your paycheck for this mission, then."
Benjamin chuckled, well aware that no one would be paid for this campaign. It was an unwelcome atrocity, thrust upon us, the Legionnaires, and the people of Sheratan by the Word of Blake, and although, when all was said and done, our joint strike force might win the day, but from a financial standpoint, the operation was already a total loss. It was not the sort of engagement the Crayven Corporation looked fondly upon, and our parent entity had flatly refused to authorize the deployment. Had I not volunteered to finance our contribution to the efforts out of my own pocket, our forces would never have made planetfall.
Such were the ways of the corporate world, however, and I harbored no resentment toward my organization for thinking the way they did. Even I had my own self-serving motives for participating in this campaign. My primary objective was unquestionably to assist my son. However, I also wanted to show the media that the Securities division was not hell-bent on undermining the political structure of the Inner Sphere, as many commentators wanted their viewers to believe. Although our client list included many entities who appeared...less than favorable...in the eye of the public, including the Draconis Combine, the Lyran Alliance, and even Clan Jade Falcon, the fact of the matter was, we dealt with every major faction in the Inner Sphere, as well as those in the Outworlds. Our non-discriminatory policy permitted us to operate quite freely, and had the potential to foster a great deal of unity between the many parties with whom we conducted business.
But the media refused to understand or accept this, choosing instead to focus solely on the fact that we were 'arms dealers' and 'mercenaries.' We were often labeled as 'traitors,' and 'spies.'
It was only partially true. We didn't intend to betray anyone. We were in it for the money. Betrayal seldom paid well. It was my hope the volunteer efforts being undertaken by the Securities division wouldn't go unnoticed.
My eyes played across the preliminary sensor readouts being fed through the local C3 network. Captain Wolf had reported that the contacts appeared to be a trio of level I heavy BattleMechs, but something didn't sit right with me regarding the assessment. Given that the Blakists were attempting a last-ditch attempt to destroy the city, it didn't seem right that any expense would be spared at taking down the dam. With the relatively limited range of my Daishi's sensor suite, however, I couldn't be absolutely certain that my instincts were correct.
I opened a channel to Lance Commander MacArthur's Beagle Active Probe-equipped Catapult.
"Omega to Excalibur - I need your eyes. What do you see out there?"
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Post by L.C. Robert MacArthur on Nov 18, 2005 20:35:45 GMT -5
I brought my Catapult into a crouch, and boosted the power to my advanced sensor suite to its maximum capacity. Immediately, three BattleMech signatures appeared on my radar, with a possible fourth flickering in and out of existence nearly 1200 meters out. I toggled my comm channel open.
"Omega, this is Excalibur. I'm definitely picking up three BattleMechs - and possibly a fourth - could be a Raven running ECM. Captain Wolf's right about the Heavy classification, but these babies are Level 2 - possibly even Level 3 - there's too much interference to know for sure. Looks like a Hellfire, an Argus, and a…wait - this last one isn't a Heavy 'Mech - it's definitely Assault-class…oh, crap. The last one's an Akuma, sir."
There came a pause while General Maxwell examined the data feeding through on his C3 computer.
"Delightful. Can you tag it?"
I lined my crosshairs up with the entrenched 90-ton behemoth. It would be a long shot, but I was fairly certain that I could land a NARC missile on its bulky torso.
"I can, sir, but it's going to draw a hell of a lot of attention to our lance."
"Then I suppose we'd better be ready to put on a good show. Light him up, Commander MacArthur!"
I maneuvered my Catapult to a standing position, and pulled the trigger. A single NARC missle arced across the battlefield, lodging itself in the Akuma's lower torso. Immediately, both General Maxwell's Daishi and that of the younger Captain released twin flights of long-range missiles from their shoulder-mounted launchers, the warheads spiraling across the battlefield, tearing into the startled Akuma's armor with such force that the BattleMech's torso twisted sharply to the right. I blew the covers on my MRM launchers open, preparing my BattleMech for a nasty fight…
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Post by Dr. Jessica Saturina on Nov 18, 2005 22:55:30 GMT -5
I was still standing at the foot of Morgans metal giant when a radio transmission apparently caught his attention. The torso of his mech shot straight up. Before I could react, he began to move. As he raised the leg I was standing near I tried to move, but was caught slightly by it as he moved forward. It brushed against my back enough to throw me forward. I landed on the ground hard. It knocked the wind out of me.
I laid there trying to catch my breath. I heard a deep voice speaking over me.
"Doc, are you ok?"
I slowly turned over on to my side looking up at the voice. The sun shinning in my face I could not make out the persons face.
"I ... I think so. It just seems to have knock the wind out of me. "
The faceless voice helped me up into a standing position. I brushed myself off as best I could. Without even thinking I took a deep breath and said.
"Thank you but I have to get into the complex to help the others."
I took off running with my medical bags toward the complex buildings. Leaving the faceless voice behind. If I could find out who it was later I would thank him more properly, but now I had work to do. I could not worry about Morgan. I had tried my best but there was nothing I could do. He was the mechs problem now. I just hoped he didn't end up getting himself or someone else killed. I ran to the building I knew Thorn and the others were. I remembered hearing him say he and one other was injured. I needed to make sure he was being cared for.
I rushed through the door of the building. Standing in the door way I spotted Alex on the floor. I quickly moved to his side. He jumped a little when I touched his arm. He had his eyes closed.
"It's ok Alex, its Jessica. I'm here to help you. Don't worry. We've taken over the re-education camp. No one will hurt you anymore."
He looked at me a little strangely at first. I must have looked a sight. My hair wind blown, my face dirty from my fall. He recognized me right away though and his body relaxed as I worked on his injuries.
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Post by Captain Adam "Gunman" Wolf on Nov 19, 2005 14:00:03 GMT -5
The Mech Dealer's Griffin and my own lumbering Vulture approached the now stopped Crayven Securities lance at a very rapid pace. About 150m from them their Catapult 'mech, piloted by a I believe a MacArthur the General said, stood up a solitary thin wisp of smoke jetted through the air into the distance. The sudden popping of missile hatching, barely visible at this range, hinted that the singular round must have been a NARC homing beacon. By the time we closed to 50m the sky was filled with multiple high velocity warheads, all of them streaking towards the diminuitive looking target on the horizon. At 1200m out the missiles would be hard pressed to reach the target, but the NARC beacon would make their aim much more accurate. My Vulture's Clan sensor suite was able to pick up what appeared to be 3 heavy 'mechs, but there were numerous ways that more could be hidden out there, I just hoped that one of the Crayven 'mechs had a sensor suite with more power. Toggling the comm to General Maxwell, I contacted the leader of the Crayven forces to offer my assistance.
General, this is Captain Wolf, looks like your about to stir up a hornet's nest. I'd like to offer what assistance Rook Lance can give.
Thanks for the offer Wolf, try and see if you can flank them when they make their charge.
Will do. Rook-1 out.
Toggling the comm back to Rook lance, I began to swing my 'mech out wide to the West, towards the river bank in, in an attempt to flank the Blakist 'mechs which were now turning towards the Catapult that had brought such a hellish torrent of missiles down on what seemed to be their heavier 'mech.
Rook-3, I want you on my six til we engage the enemy, you should still have a clear shot at them since they will be at our 2 o'clock until they charge. I'm going to try and contact Rook-2 again, hopefully he's gotten some sense by now.
A brief response from the Mech Dealer was accompanied by his Griffin moving into position almost directly behind my 'mech. As the two of us swung out wide to the right the 3 Blakist signatures were shown to be moving slowly towards the friendly IFFs that made up the Crayven units. If it was just those 3 enemy units, General Maxwell and his lance would have no difficulty removing them from the face of the planet, it would be 4 on 3 in the General's favour, and it would be an Assault vs Heavy engagement, the outcome fairly one sided. Yet something didn't sit right, the General had mentioned something to me about a possible fourth contact when he informed me of what their Catapult had picked up, if there was a possible fourth, then there would probably be a 5th and 6th as well. Blakists followed the same unit organization as ComStar, 3 'mechs, 6 'mechs, 18 'mechs, a Level I, Level II, and Level III respectively. That meant that that were there were 4 'mechs, there was going to be 2 more, but where? My radar barely showed the 3, and there were lots of ways and places to hide a 'mech at this kind of range. I scanned the radar again, this time trying to spot the friendly IFF of Morgan Blake's Zeus, there appeared to be a contact about 400m due north of us, near some trees and old building rubble, but I couldn't get a visual, or even a positive sensor lock. Toggling the comm I tried to reach him anyways.
Rook-1 to Rook-2 are you there?
Rook-2 this is Captain Wolf, can you here me?
Morgan, are you there? Please respond.
The silence between each attempt was almost defeaning, I figured that he either wasn't there or else wasn't in a condition to respond, but then a brief message, badly garbled came across the comm.
W**t ... ***......***.... ord*rs ... *****
The only words I could discern was 'what' and 'orders', and I wasn't even sure if that is what he said or not, I figured I'd give it a try though and tried to send him a message telling him what our orders were.
Morgan, if you can hear me, Rook lance is currently ordered to assault the Blakist forces attacking the dam.
******* ...... ******* ... ***** repeat those orders.
The comm signal suddenly cleared up as the Mech Dealer and I made it farther west, a clearing in the trees showed a path through the old building rubble and gave us direct line of sight to a Zeus standing beside the smoking remains of a small 'mech.
Morgan, this is Captain Wolf, we've been ordered to assault the Blakist 'mechs at the dam. Right now I need you to form up on me while we flank a group of 3, possibly more, WoB 'mechs in combination with the Crayven Security lance.
The Zeus clearly turned towards my position and began to pick its way back along through the path it had previously cleared, although no communication was made immediately, I awaited to see if there would be a further response from Rook-2. While I waited I briefly opened a channel to Garland, hoping he would be able to hear me.
Knight-1, this is Rook-1, it would appear that Rook-2 is no longer rogue. Rook lance is back to 3 'mechs strong and engaging hostile forces with the Crayven Securities lance.
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Post by Gen Miyamoto on Nov 21, 2005 9:01:34 GMT -5
My sensors and battle computer had been royaly screwed up by the PPC hit. I was getting garbled nonsense on my readouts and Headsup displays, and the comm unit was dead. I lumbered where I could, trying to locate the rest of Knight lance but it was no use. Whatever was going on, the lance had made it's very best haste to attend.
Isolated and mostly blind, I steered my mute giant toward the sound of weapons fire. With luck I'll locate some friendlies. The city was strangley quiet around me, the streets had emptied and the fires had given way to slow pillars of whispy smoke. I stepped over the charred skeletons of vehicals and people that littered the ground, carefull not to risk damaging what little was left of the Dragon. There was a good reason the Black Mamba retired, she had this ungainly hulk as a mount.
After a few moments I had rounded a stadium to see two lances of mechs slugging it out. The Comstar boys outwieghed and outclassed the dregs of what had once been a very elite unit of Blakists. There wasn't much more to the fight but I chose to give a little unneeded aid anyways.
The nearest enemy mech was one of the fierce little Initiate mechs, currently being handeled by a more than capable Starslayer. As brilliant beams lanced out and ravaged the near side of the Blake mech, the dimunitive warrior rushed behind a building corner. I announced myself to this now cowering monster with a blast of my lasers. As if summoned to life the Initiate immediatly turned about and charged directly at me, sword at the ready.
The little hellion flew at me with an insane fervor and I realized he would impale my reactor and take my life with his. I backed wildly, flinging missles and lasers bolts for all I was worth but I could not halt the deranged attack. Just when I considered ejecting to save my life, brilliant red laser light raked the back of the maniacal mech and sent it sliding over asphalt to rest before me. A brilliant explosion ensued, damaging my leg armor lightly. I would have thanked the Com gaurdsman for his fine work, but he had already turned to join his lancemates. With my radio dead, I merely followed to see where they were headed.
The sounds of battle had grown louder, I could tell they were heading into the epicenter of serious fighting. No doubt this was part of the push for the WOB HPG. I was hesitant to plunge into the intesense fray that no doubt engulfed that area. I was still feeling somewhat shaken by the near death of the headshot. A mechwarrior lives and dies by thier confidence, and sadly mine had been blasted off with my arm. Still, I couldn't stand by and do nothing. I plodded quietly after the comgaurds, running my radar passively to avoid being conspicuous and crossed my fingers for some good luck.
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Post by Captain Benjamin Maxwell on Nov 22, 2005 20:15:59 GMT -5
The pilot of the Akuma was upset - understandably so, as he had just been the receipient of twenty warheads exploding against the hull of his ivory-white BattleMech. As his lancemates turned their weapons on the rest of the allied forces amassed at the perimeter of the dam, the assault 'Mech's pilot unleashed a punishing barrage of PPC, MRM, SRM, and LB-10X fire into my Daishi, knocking my 100-ton BattleMech to the ground as the sum of the weapons fire collided with its right leg. In my career, I had never bone witness to a 'Mech of the type I was currently piloting being knocked from its feet, and the fact that I was now experiencing it firsthand spoke volumes about both the prowess of the Akuma's pilot, and of the massive amount of firepower it was able to bring to bear on its targets.
The crack of the ultra autocannons mounted on my father's assault 'Mech sliced through the air, followed by the shriek of metal being wrought asunder. As my Daishi rose to its feet, its right leg just barely functional, I saw the Akuma lurching violently as the sum force of sixty MRMs exploded against its hull. Lance Commander MacArthur's Catapult had entered the fray, and was now providing an impressive amount of fire support for the larger 'Mech.
Sweeping my target reticule to the west, I located L.C. Martinez's Kingfisher, which was fully engaged with the remaining heavy 'Mechs. Pushing my Daishi's throttle to full, I waded through the crossfire and opened fire on the Argus, my opening weapons volley blowing clean through its armored hide.
Time to dance...
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Post by Lance Commander William Rhodes on Nov 22, 2005 20:26:32 GMT -5
William maneuvered his Verfolger onto the interstate leading out of town towards the distant Damocles dam. All around him were the shattered, smoking remains of vehicles, both military and civilian. In the distance he could see the flash of explosions and the dotted slashes of tracers crossing the sky.
Bloody hell...I don't think we've got much time left!
Gunning the throttle to the stops, William spiked the fusion reactor's power, pumping the myomer bundles in his armored machine's legs. Pushing 86 kph, Bucephalus pounded across the concrete, knocking over sign posts and light signals. There was no time for finese. Not if Gellen's Heights was to remain above water.
While in the city, the going had been slow. It seemed as if every intersection held an ambush point for the Blakists, whether it was a light mech hiding in an alley or a few points of battle armor. Each one had to be painstakingly cleared before the lance could advance. Emma and her platoon were an immense help in ferreting out hidden Blake positions, but William shuddered at the damage to the once beautiful city around him.
I hope there is something left when this is all over...have we failed the people of Sheratan?
William opened the com on the Verfolger as he charged down the interstate with the rest of Knight Lance.
Knight 1 this is Knight 2. What is the game plan once we reach the dam?
Assuming there is a dam left when we get there.
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Morgan Blake
Logistics Coordinator
LEGIONNAIRES - Elite
Posts: 122
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Post by Morgan Blake on Nov 23, 2005 19:32:36 GMT -5
Damocles Lake, I didn't know exactly where it was, being new to the planet, but I could find North easy enough.
Without another hesitation I throttled my Zeus to full power and headed directly North. Everything was oblivious to me, buildings, cars, street signs. I know I grazed a few buildings moving around them and at one point I thought that there was a Blakist mech in my path. But one insignificant little mech was nothing to destroying six of the heathen bastards.
Checking my rear sensor display I saw that the Blakist mech was engaged with two other mechs. Being of no further consequence, I forgot about it. North was the only instructions I needed.
Barreling out of the city limits, I was able to follow the compass without having to detour around large objects. Coming up to a large stand of trees I noticed that my sensors suddenly started showing diminished readings, as if they were being countered. Must be an enemy ECM in operation I surmised. Swinging my mech around I determined where the strongest source of ECM was and aimed straight for it. Shouldering aside trees and bashing through thick undergrowth I charged straight at the source of the ECM. Using my jumpjets had completely slipped my mind, I was focused solely on getting the target.
Breaking through into a clearing, I happened upon a Blakist Raven. It had turned to face me and unleashed a barrage of it's weapons. Enraged by it's audacity, I struck back with my PPC and Lasers and stamped hard on the throttle pedals. Coming into physical range, the Blakist pilot finally though of fleeing but it was too late for him. Swinging the right arm like a giant club, I crushed the side of the smaller Raven. As it staggered from the blow, I brought my left arm down from it's maximum height and crushed it across the top of the smaller mech. It visibly buckled as it was partially forced into the soft floor of the clearing. A sweeping kick from my Zeus took it's left leg out from under it, sending it crashing to the ground. As it lay there twitching, feebly attempting to gain it's footing to flee, I lowered my PPC, level to the cockpit glass. I heard something over the comms system but I ignored it. It may have been a surrender, it may have been words of defiance. They didn't register with me. I squeezed the trigger for my PPC, bathing the front of the Raven in azure fire. Beautiful, cleansing, azure fire.
My comm system came alive again, this time the words registered on some level, they were somewhat familiar.
Rook-1 to Rook-2 are you there?
Rook-2 this is Captain Wolf, can you here me?
Morgan, are you there? Please respond.
I mumbled something about what orders they were referring to. Whom ever this was appeared not to have received the order from Commander Garland about the Blakists attacking the Dam. Then another message came through more clearly.
Morgan, if you can hear me, Rook lance is currently ordered to assault the Blakist forces attacking the dam.
I know, there is no need to repeat those orders. As you can see I am already doing just that.
Obviously, whom ever this was, wasn't certain what was going on or what was required of them. Turning I headed to wards them, to take charge and guide them in the right direction.
I'd taken two steps and suddenly my HUD lit up with enemy contacts. The Raven had sacrificed itself to buy time for two of it's companions to slip away to wards the lake. They would have succeeded to if not for some sort of break in the forest and surrounding geology.
Contacts !! Two Blakist mechs on my eight o'clock. Engage ! Engage !
I hoped that these kids in front of me had enough training to follow orders without question and would back me up. I couldn't wait to find out though, time was precious. Jumping my Zeus it's maximum distance of 120 meters to wards the Blakists, I hit the ground running, aiming straight for their rears.
They were big, but that meant that they were slow and lacked the advantage of maneuverability. A Vanquisher with it's ridiculous stubby arms and a gigantic Atlas. The grin on it's death head skull outlined in grey and highlighted in red as if it had just torn the flesh from some hapless prey with it's teeth.
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