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Post by Elizabeth Evers on Oct 18, 2005 5:09:57 GMT -5
My escape from the heart of Gallen Heights had been fairly easy, albeit nerve racking. But as I flew unerringly towards my new comrades I felt invincible. My altitude garunteed no mech or vehical could strike me and so it seemed to me an easy flight. I was sadly over confident.
The Word of Blake had wasted no time in contacting thier air support and quickly dispatching them after me. I was slow to notice, instead focusing on catching various drafts to lend me more velocity. However, a chance glance eventually brought me crashing back into reality. A pair of Pintos were in pursuit, and were using the weaker headwinds of low altitude to gain on me.
The gap was slowly narrowing and every big gust of crosswind slowed me down a hair more. We were over a hundred meters out of our missle fire ranges, which would buy me a few moments to think.
I didn't know how much further ahead Site 187 was, and despite running probe assisted scans I couldn't discern much other than enemy craft along the ground heading the same way. So on one hand I had the option of keeping my course and fighting the headwinds in the hopes that I could find support in whatever 'mechs were deployed. On the other hand, I could try to defeat both Pintos single handedly. I was outnumbered, but no doubt those Blakists were flying factory stock models and would then have an inferior range to my clan model of lasers.
The Pintos were inching within tens of meters of a firing solution. I had to decide and fast. What would they expect me to do? Probably ride as fast as I could until they had a firing solution, then break and attack them. Exactly what I was doing! This called for some creative problem solving and I had just the manuever in mind. I looked quickly to the terrain below to guess my ideal time.
A deep breath of preperation and quick adjustment to my rotor and I was overcome by the sensation of extreme weight. I had slowed my forward motion to go vertically as fast as I could. The pair of pintos ofcourse pitched up to have a line of fire nessecary to attack me, a tenacious although reckless move. As the rotor moved further back my craft slowly began to pull back against my momentum, all the while still fighting wildly upward. The agressing craft lofted themselved steeper and steeper, and where under normal training conditions their machines would have performed acceptably, they now were the victims of a deep stall brought on by a stiff updraft off a prominent hill. One shrugged it off quickly before the tailspin set in, bringing down the attitude and going full ahead. The other pilot had not been so fortunate and began spinning wildly earthward before smashing into a frosty thicket and exploding in a plume of fire.
I had been backing behind the choppers the whole time, and with the help of the same stiff head wind that had seemed to threaten my defeat, I had managed to move an impressive distance. My remaining opponent spun around hard and begin fixing a lock me, and I him. I had gotten the drop on him and let fly with my missles first, once again manuevering upward as I fired. I was hitting my ceiling altitude when the return volley came. As the white-hot engines raced thier payloads toward me I dipped down into a hard dive. My speed grew and my rotor worked furiously to pull me forward. The LRMs and I crossed paths, with the missles whizing by mere centemeters from my hull. Aretmis IV was a rarely duped system, I counted myself among the lucky.
The WOB Pinto was now backing furiously to catch me as I dropped in to close range, no doubt readily waiting to unleash a barrage of lasers. I felt almost sorry for this air borne soldier, for all the fanatical devotion in his heart he cannot make my range shorter than his. The word of blake frequently reminded me of another chilling fervor, the kind of the distant clans, and I felt the same kind of pity for them. I frowned with remorse as I sprayed all three of my lasers down from 400 meters above my advirsary, shattering his rotor and sentencing him to 10 seconds of life.
Kill me where I sit, I always say, and may I never face a fate as grim as that solemn fall. To his last he cursed himself, his foolish wingman, and most of all he cursed me to painfull death. It was the way of such people, and it filled me with a kind of nihilism rarely seen outside of the clan occupation zone.
I did not bother to admire the explosion or watch a valiant leap to an uncertain amount of dismemberment. Rather I was indisposed with vomiting from the rough ride I had just endured. I earned a lot of disrespect for my weak constitution, and many an instructor tried to break me of it. I don't doubt thier merits or thier intentions, but all the same a pool of bile now lay below me.
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Post by The 'Mech Dealer on Oct 18, 2005 8:22:56 GMT -5
Blake's blood and bloody ashes, these damn blasted Wobbies were bad for business. They had seized the starport and confiscated all of the dropships located there for their own use. Thieving Blakists were taking anything even remotely of military use for their own crusade. Food, communication equipment, any sort of spare parts. They'd taken my Dropship already with all the salvage I had obtained from the Legionnaires. Luckily though I always kept my active merchandise at different locations, so they hadn't yet gotten their grubby hands onto my mechs yet. And they weren't going to either if I could help it.
One lone mech against them though wasn't going to last long. I had to hook up with larger numbers and the only other mechs on planet, which weren't Blakists were the Militia and the Legionnaires. Well I didn't hold much hope that the militia would last long against the invaders, but the Legionnaires had their own base with reasonable defenses, they at least stood some chance.
I had a Archer ARC-4M, a Griffin GRF-6S, both of which were upgraded technology and a Warhammer WHM-6D, a 3025 variant with older technology, but all energy weapons.
I chose to take the Warhammer precisely because it was all energy and didn't have any fancy tech that was easily damaged. With maximum armour and 20 heatsinks it was still a formidable mech with it's two standard PPCs, backed up by two medium lasers and two small lasers.
Taking a round about route to avoid the Blakists, I made my way toward the Northern Gate of the Legionnaire's base.
Not taking any chances at being mistaken for a Blakist, I contacted them well outside of visual range.
This is a friendly unit calling for the Legionnaires, please respond.
There was the hiss of an open channel for a few seconds before a reply was forth coming.
Please identify yourself.
This is the Mech Dealer who so recently sold several mechs to the Legionnaires. I am coming toward your Northern Entrance and wish for sanctuary.
Wait there please. I'll need to get clearance.
Several minutes later I received a transmission from the Legionnaire's commander, a Commander Garland.
Commander Garland, in exchange for sanctuary and assistance in retrieving my Dropship from the Blakists I am prepared to offer you my services as a Mechwarrior and the use of my remaining mechs, those that haven't yet been confiscated by the Blakists, for the Legionnaire's use.
There was silence for a moment as the Commander was obviously thinking over my offer.
Why would you offer such a high price to assist us ?
Commander, the Blakists have already seized my Dropship and all I have aboard her, if they find my mechs, they'll seize them to without any compensation. Under those conditions I'd rather lose the mechs fighting the Blakists then to just hand them over for nothing. At least with my dropship I can start to rebuild, but if the Blakists win, I'll more likely lose my life as well as my Dropship. So you see, I'm doing this for myself as much as I am for you.
With that he agreed and organized for someone called Guardian-2 to escort me in to the base.
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Morgan Blake
Logistics Coordinator
LEGIONNAIRES - Elite
Posts: 122
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Post by Morgan Blake on Oct 18, 2005 8:39:36 GMT -5
Commander Garland ordered me to the Northern Entrance of site 187 to escort in the Mech Dealer of all people. After trading the Zeus and Vefolger from him, I had thought we would have seen the last of him for quite some time. As it turned out, the Blakists had commanderred his dropship and he was stranded on Sheratan. So rather than just roll over and hand everything to the Blakists, he had offered it up to us instead.
He was piloting a very respectable Warhammer WHM-6D. It may have been old-tech but it was still quite dangerous, especially to lighter mechs. He also had an Archer ARC-4M and a Griffin GRF-6S hidden away in the jungle somewhere.
I knew Aliesha had been itching to get back into the cockpit of a mech and literally bursting with agitation at not having an active part in the combat so far.
Once we got the Mech Dealer and his warhammer safely inside the walls of the base, I got him to park his mech out of the way of the rushing Techs and Astechs and radioed for Aliesha.
Aliesha, I need you to accompany our friend here back to where he has two more mechs hidden.
There was almost a buzz of excited anticipation in her voice as she acknowledged my message.
I would like you to pilot the Archer, it has the long range fire support we have been lacking till now. He'll pilot the Griffin back here which will then become a spare mech as he'll pilot the Warhammer in battle for us.
Just then a message came through from Commander Garland. Gunman had made it back, but his mech was shot to pieces and couldn't be repaired quickly. I was needed back at the other entrances.
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Post by The 'Mech Dealer on Oct 18, 2005 8:46:37 GMT -5
Commander Garland, have your mechwarrior take the Warhammer. It won't do me any good if you lose the base and it gets captured by the Blakists, so use it to defend the base. I'll keep using the Griffin when we return. We shouldn't be more than an hour round trip.
With that 'Aliesha' and I stowed our neurohelmets in the back of a spare jeep and headed out the Northern Entrance for where I kept my mechs hidden.
I just hoped that the Blakists hadn't found them yet and that this girl could pilot a mech. If we got caught by the Blakists I didn't want to have to abandon her to their "tender" care, but I didn't plan on hanging around either to get captured myself.
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Morgan Blake
Logistics Coordinator
LEGIONNAIRES - Elite
Posts: 122
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Post by Morgan Blake on Oct 18, 2005 10:31:03 GMT -5
After seeing Aliesha and the Mech Dealer off, I raced back to the South Eastern gates as fast as I could make Eisensturm go. I passed Gunman's Hatamoto on the way, techs were already busy with attempting repairs to it.
Making it back to the gates, I was just in time to see the Blakist aerospace fighters launch themselves into Kamakazi style dives, destroying the base defences' control tower and puting a very large hole in one of the walls.
Scanning my long range sensors I detected a vehicle heading at high speed towards the base. Visual magnification identified it as a Blakist APC and heading straight towards the base. After what the aerospace fighters had just done, this had all the hallmarks of a fanatical suicide bomber. Engaging my advanced Targetting Computer I was about to open fire at long range with my PPC, the better to destroy it before it got anywhere near the base. Moments before my thumb depressed the firing stud for the PPC the vehicle was rocked by a heavy blast from behind.
Behind meant Word of Blake forces. What were they doing firing on one of their own vehicles I wondered. Reducing the magnification on my visual scan, I identified the assailant as a Solitaire battlemech. The design was tagged as clan on my computer screen, but it quite clearly had been painted in Blake colors and carried the Blake symbol.
The Solitaire was closing fast on the vehicle, who's identity was now in question. It could still be a ruse to make us think the vehicle was safe and therefore let it in like the Trojan Horse or it could have been someone who managed to steal a Blake vehicle and escape, as unlikely as that was, to make it to our base for safety.
I couldn't take any chances, I would have to take them both out.
I switched the Targetting Computer to the Solitaire. My PPC fired wide, as expected with the speed the mech was moving at. Though now it was focused on me rather than the vehicle. There was always the chance that the vehicle was friendly, so disabling it rather than destroying it was preferable. Locking on with my LRM launcher, 15 missiles arced towards the rushing vehicle. They scattered wide but their pronounced threat caused the driver to swing the vehicle in a wild defensive manouvour. One of the vehicles tracks spun impotently in mid air, the other dug deep into the soft snow underneath. With it's forward momentum suddenly deflected and it's centre of gravity shifted, the vehicle rolled over and landed on it's roof, skidding some distance before coming to rest in a deeper snow drift.
I was sure that our Cavalier Battle Armour would already be on the job of making their way to the vehicle and securing the occupants.
The solitaire paused briefly to inspect the vehicle, obviously deciding that it was out of commision and that the driver was likewise disabled. Accelerating upto it's very impressive maximum speed, the Solitaire decided that discreation was the better part of valour, surrendering the vehicle and the battlefield as Thorn and I pressed our mechs forward to cover the Cavaliers and threaten the Solitaire with grievious bodily harm if it stayed much longer.
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Post by MechWarrior Aisa Thastus on Oct 18, 2005 14:27:52 GMT -5
As I tore inbound on the base, a massive Zeus, bearing the crest of the Legionnaires, thundered toward me on an intercept vector, presumably with the Solitare.
Or so I thought.
As I attempted to steer behind the Zeus' firing arc, the assault-class BattleMech unleashed a brilliant cerulean bolt of particle energy in my direction, followed almost immediately by an LRM barrage. Both volleys flew wide, plowing into the earth, but in my haste to evade their ground-displacing impacts, I overcompensated with the vehicle's controls, causing the APC to spin out, rolling side-over-side in a violent crash which threw me out of the driver's compartment.
I lay dazed in the snow for several long minutes, the thunder of battle roaring around me, as I regained my wits and drew a cursory assessment of the situation unfolding around me. The Solitare had been driven off by the military staging taking place around the Legionnaire compound, and the Zeus had retreated to its former firing position, while a small detachment of Battle Armor and infantry were now closing on my position. I pulled myself to my feet, shaking off the extreme dizziness the crash had induced.
Good...they have come to search the wreckage. When they arrive, I will -
My thoughts were interrupted as a swarm of friendly Cavaliers lept from the armored truck in which they rode, drawing their assault rifles as they surrounded me, barking muffled instructions through their helmets.
"Ground your weapon! Place your hands on top of your head and interlace your fingers! Drop to your knees!"
I did as I was told, all the while silently cursing the ignorant stravag.
"Recon-6 to Commander Garland - we have the Clanner in our custody. Please advise what you want us to do with her."
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Post by Elizabeth Evers on Oct 18, 2005 15:27:36 GMT -5
I sped over battlemech and vehical assets, closing in to Site 187. I could see from the deployment of forces a sort of siege was starting up. Static defenses would help but no doubt fail against a concentrated force. It seemed a showdown might begin soon, and every minute waited was more soldier grouped with the Blakists. I began landing inside the base, hoping to hell that I didn't get blasted before I could introduce myself.
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Post by Lance Commander William Rhodes on Oct 18, 2005 18:37:01 GMT -5
The retreat to the bridges across the Gellen river was pure hell.
To Rhodes, it was a confusing miasma of fire, smoke, and death. Guardian Lance did its best to hold off the Word of Blake Mechs with the strange pyramid-and-eye insignia while under attack by aerospace assets as well. William had filled the sky above his Verfolger with clouds of submunitions from his LBX autocannon, but his Bloodhound tracking system wasn't good at targeting fast moving fighters.
A 55-ton Defiance OmniFighter had almost been the death of William with its gauss rifle and bevy of advanced lasers, but the Legionnaires' new pilot in his Eisensturm had provided some badly needed air cover.
What was his name again? Garland said he's a cocky bastard. I guess most fighter jocks are.
Reaching the bridges spanning the deep gorge of the Gellen, Guardian Lance filed across into the ring of protection offered by the Calliope turrets, leaving an ash covered field strewn with the tangled remains of shattered BattleMechs.
Guardian 1 reporting all Guardians on site. Inititiate protocol Streetgang. Repeat initiate protocol Streetgang.
As soon as Garland had given the order the ground shook with a massive explosion as if the planet's continental plates were seeking to claw their way to the surface and move to a new home. Unsecured equipment danced across the ground and a massive cloud of flame rose into the air, obscuring the collapsing bridges as their burning support beams tumbled down into the rocky gorge below.
Of course in the modern age, the destruction of a bridge was only a temporary obstacle, but hopefully for the time being the Word of Blake was stuck on the far side of the ravine.
At least now we can catch our collective breath under the umbrella of the Calliope network.
The thought was barely formed in William's mind when a trio of Blakist fighters descended from the heavens and screamed across the base, afterburners fully a glow. Rhodes held his breath as their intentions became clear. The fusion powered craft slammed into the main control tower for the Calliope network and the walls around it, kicking up a geyser of broken stone and flaming debris.
Bloody fanatics! Now things are going to get real uncomfortable!
Bucephalus was down to about half of its armor and ammunition after the hellish retreat under the guns of Blakist fighters and Mechs. The rest of the Legionnaires looked just as bad, though Garland was making the rounds and doing his best to keep everyone's spirits up. Without the Calliope turrets however, it was only a matter of time until the Blakist brought up more reinforcements and pushed the Legionnaires out of Site 187.
Then where do we go?
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Emma Mirado
Regular
Whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster - Nietzche
Posts: 4
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Post by Emma Mirado on Oct 18, 2005 19:09:59 GMT -5
Leftenant Emma Mirado activated her Infiltrator Mk. II’s jump pack, launching herself into the air from the roof of the ruined apartment building. Following closely behind her were the three other members of her squad. The feeling of literally flying by the seat of her pants was exhilarating.
I love these Legionnaire Puma suits! I wish we had a few of these in the Sewer Rats.
Below was a Word of Blake Schiltron, an 80-ton wheeled vehicle with modular weapon pods. This particular model was outfitted in the primary configuration with two large Arrow IV missile launchers aimed at the distant buildings at Site 187. The Infiltrator’s advanced stealth systems had thus far masked the presence of Emma and her squad mates from the Schiltron’s sensor suite.
These Mk. II’s are a big improvement over the old Sloth suits we used to use in the Stalwart Support. Less bulky and more energy efficient…not to mention the new gauss rifle.
There was a loud clang as the four battle-armored troopers touched down on the Schiltron’s forward upper deck, just in front of the boxy missile launchers. Corporal Travis made the fatal mistake of going directly for the tank’s crew hatch while ignoring the forward laser turret.
Danny, look out!
A quartet of ruby beams caught him directly in the chest and lifted him back into the air. The lasers easily penetrated his torso plate, evaporating the hapless warrior inside.
Emma clenched her right fist, blasting apart the laser turret with her Magshot gauss rifle. Another shot from Sergeant Carver ripped the crew hatch right off its hinges. A Blakist soldier emerged, spraying the Pumas with a burst from his Rorynex sub-machine gun, but the rounds sparked harmlessly off the Infiltrators’ armored hides.
Squeezing her hand again to activate the Magshot, Emma blew apart the upper torso of the Schiltron crewman, showering the upper deck with flesh and bone fragments. A moment later, Carver tossed a demo pack into the open hatch.
The three remaining Pumas vaulted airborne, leaving behind the confused and terrified cries of the Schiltron’s surviving crew. Then there was a bright flash of light and the Omni-Vehicle was silent. Though only lightly damaged, the Schiltron was just an eighty ton paperweight without a living, breathing crew.
Legionnaire Base, Puma One. Mark one Schiltron for salvage, Grid Zero-Four-Zero.
Not that we’ll have time to send out a salvage rig under the present circumstances.
Leftenant, I think you better take a look at this.
Emma used her jets to vault to a nearby roof where Corporal Richards was standing. In the distance she could see the smoke rising from the shattered bridges across the Gellen.
We're trapped on the wrong side...
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Post by Elizabeth Evers on Oct 19, 2005 2:09:25 GMT -5
As I began to coast down to the tarmac of Site 187 I was taken aback by an enormous explosion. Spinning around quickly I saw the flaming wreckage of the collasping bridges. Aerotech flew around furiously as mechs tried to pick them out of the air. A single freindly was still dogfighting wildly, and I didn't need a field briefing to figure out where I was needed. I kicked up a whirlwind of dust to greet the infantry who had come to investigate my near-landing.
I quickly set about finding my target opponent. The Eisensturm was doing its best to cover ground assets, but a damned interceptor kept it flying circles instead of dive bombing mechs like it should be. I quickly picked up the trail of the offending craft, a venerable Spad design. It had the firepower to knock me out of the sky so I had to be carefull not to be caught off gaurd.
At half thrust I rushed at a strong 80 kph, painting my target for missle lock. Despite some quick yaw turns, and a tricky dive I managed to loose a spurt of missles. Though the damage was light the message was clear, it said your days are numbered. The Eisensturm made a hard dive clear of the fray, while the Spad rolled into a wide turn and throttled up to pass under me.
I wasn't being taken seriously. One after another, I sprayed my lasers catching the craft on the nose and wing. The Spad's wake shook my craft violently as I spun as quickly as I could to blast down it's six. The damn thing switched up on me, and was now in a hard climb. I wouldn't be so foolish as to try and match it, instead choosing to back away while gaining as much altitude as possible. My move away and up put me in line for a blast from the Spad's PPC. I could see the craft pull in line of fire, my stomach wrenching into a knot, and at the moment of truth I was shocked to witness instead the Spad being blasted into a ball of fire.
Over the radio, the first Legionnaire unit to acknowledge my pressence on the field, came a gruff voice.
"I ain't getting paid to babysit whirley birds! Go park yourself somewhere out of my way!"
It wasn't what I'd call a warm reception. With only two enemy Aerotechs left in the air, I chose to leave experts to thier expertiese and dove down to start blasting tanks.
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Post by Gen Miyamoto on Oct 19, 2005 5:05:38 GMT -5
"Get the Autocannon amunition loaded up on the double!" I bellowed. The cocktail of medicines I had taken were working me up in to a fast paced frenzy. My heart was beating wildly as I spurred technicians to ready the Dragon. Other than a slight ache in the chest, I felt wonderful.
Just then a huge explosion rocked the facility, sending tools scattering and causing reverberations throughout the facility.
"All the weapons are loaded and primed, sir. We've cleared all emergency protocol safety checks. Your clear for departure" the mousy engineer informed me.
"Clear this area!" I shouted. I didn't have time to say please and thank you, I was busy flying up the lift as fast as I could.
I got into the cockpit recklessly, and a wave of pain reminded me to be ginger when moving around. Strapping in and starting off, I went active and stepped free of the restraints. A few impatient plods later I was clear of the facility, and speeding up to the main gate.
"This is Gen. I am weapons hot and engaging. Garland, what's the game plan?
I read two aerotech fighter embattled in dogfights above the defensive spread of Gaurdian lance. While awaiting acting Captain Garland's reply, I attempted to blow one out of the sky. My left arm was still tricky to handle, which threw my AC 5 aim way off. All I managed to hit with was half a volley of LRM 5's.
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Post by Assassin Saburo Kintaru on Oct 19, 2005 14:40:15 GMT -5
A thunderous explosion erupted not too far from my position. The ground vibrated and caused a few techs to stop in their tracks, unsure of whether or not they were in any immediate danger. After a seconds delay, the team so ran back into action. My eyes darted around as I stood in the centre of this busy network. I was desperately trying to a battle mech that I could pilot. But everywhere I looked, mechs were being taken away from me. I swung my body around just in time to see another mech leave the hanger.
“Shit! At this rate I’ll never be able to get out there…” I hissed, grinding my teeth in frustration.
“Common Kei-teh… you told me I was needed… but how can I help? Give me a sign!” I muttered, half angry and half feeling embarrassed. In my frustration, I found my self trying to talk to someone that was dead!
And then it caught my eyes. Just across the large hanger, standing beside two Guilia suits, was an impressive Longinus battle armour. Although it wasn’t a mech, I felt that I could at least do something in it. I raced across to the armour, dodging and weaving in and out of rushing techs and personnel. I looked over the suit, displacing any reason as to why it was just sitting here, before pressing the release switch. The suit unfolded like a well orchestrated dance. Several of the components folded and shifted out of the way so that I could slip in and power it up.
“Hay, who the hell do you think you are?!” shouted a voice from behind. I felt a fist grab onto my collar and pull me back, causing me to choke. This guy would be sorry. I fell backwards into what felt like a stone wall. Turning around, I was met by a mountain of muscle who stood a foot and a half taller than me. His blonde, buzz cut hair seemed to fit in with his grotesquely muscled body as he shifted his stylish sunglasses up his thick nose. He was menacing in appearance and he certainly talked the talk, however, he had just made a huge mistake.
“I’ll think you’ll find that THAT is MY battle armour you was just getting into!” he snarled, cracking his knuckles and curling his upper lip, revealing bright white teeth. As anger and frustration reached boiling point, I rammed an open palm punch deep within the centre of the buffoon’s chest, causing him to keel over and fall to the ground. The mountain of muscle rolled over, his bright blue eyes bulging in their sockets as they were revealed from behind his now broken sunglasses. As the glasses toppled to the floor next to his face, I brought my foot down on them and grinded them between the concrete ground.
“Listen…” I said, crouching down on one knee and getting myself as close as I could to his face. I took a deep breath.
[glow=White,2,300]“FUCK! OFF!”[/glow] I shouted, loudly and clearly, making sure that he understood what I was saying. The large man’s face twitched as my saliva coated his now weeping face.
“Pull yourself together…” I snarled, standing up and turning my back on him.
“What a numbskull…” I thought as the Longinus armour began to fold around my body, being careful not to trap my skin as it measured out my body and fit it exactly. I had never got into a battle armour before, however, if it was anything like I was training on when I was under Ren’s control, I knew I would be fine. I quickly got a feel for the machine, realising how easy it was to manoeuvre in it. As my radio began to automatically tune in I soon managed to pick up the sounds of some familiar voices.
“Guardian 1 reporting all Guardians on site. Inititiate protocol Streetgang. Repeat initiate protocol Streetgang”
Straight away I knew it was Rhodes, a lance commander that I had barely spoken to, yet I knew a lot about him. I knew a lot about all the Legionnaires thanks to the extensive research Faulkner had managed to pull together through spying agencies and whoever he could bribe. I would of spat in disgust at the idea if it wasn’t for that fact I would have been spitting into a suit that had enclosed my face…
Suddenly, the ground shook again, as if an enormous explosion had occurred. I dashed outside, noting how easy it was to walk in this beast, just in time to see the bridge that connected site 187 to Gellen’s height collapse into a fireball of death.
“Guardian 1, this is Reaper 1...” I spoke, feeling ashamed at what I was about to say. “What… are my orders…”
Embarrassment washed over me. I felt as if I was being reduced to a grunt. The only reason I asked was because of my vision of my brother. He was the only reason I decided to get up and do something! AND he was dead… Now a feeling of fear began to wash over me like a cold spilt drink. What if… these visions began to affect me on the battlefield…
“Reaper 1? Saburo? Is that you?” Rhodes asked, causing me to grind my teeth as I felt my pride slip away. Working with mercenaries… how despicable!
“YES, IT IS ME!” I answered back angrily.
“What will you have me do?!” I said snarling, feeling my eyes twitch. If I could see my reflection in the mirror, I would be more than sure that a vain would be making itself visible upon my fore head…
I stood waiting for a reply as the sound of the whirring machinery and static hiss filled my ears.
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Post by Dr. Jessica Saturina on Oct 19, 2005 16:11:02 GMT -5
The infirmary had been a blur of activity since we got back to the base. Everybody was up to their necks in injured people. Civilians, militia, a mech warrior. Our medical supplies were running low. I wasn't sure how long they would last, but I would do everything I could to see everyone got the best of care.
My staff was all well trained, and also had been with me long enough to know what my expectations of the level of care I expected from them all. No one dared to skimp on anything or do a half assed job. I made sure everyone that was brought on board was in this not only for money but because they were dedicated to their profession.
Commander Garland radioed me about the militia mech warrior. He hadn't been badly injured and would be able to rejoin the fight. So I told Garland we could have him ready withing an hour. I also reminded him I needed more medical supplies. His only reply was.
“I’m sorry doctor—but right now another Battlemech on the field could make all the difference…”
I understand Commander. Looks like Wyatt is done fixing up your mech warrior. He will be leaving the infirmary in about 5 minuets. We will send him to the mech bay. If you will leave orders there for the techs for him.
"Acknowledged Doctor. Garland out"
Well that was taken care of. Now to get back to work. There was plenty to do. No one was taking breaks. Everyone was working round the clock. I only hoped we would hold up, but really our jobs were easy compared to what the mech warriors were having to deal with.
I didn't have to release Aliesha afterall. Morgan had needed her to come to the battle. She had left so quickly when called I had actually not even seen her leave. I was glad though cause I knew that was were she belonged. I could understand how she felt. I would feel anxious myself if I couldn't be were the injured were.
I was glad that on our return to the base, Alice and the Med VTOL had been there waiting for us. It seems that they could not get very close to the city due to enemy forces and they had seen everyone leaving Gellen's Heights heading for site 187. Also they had tried radioing their decision to return to the base but was not able to get through. I was so happy to see them. I had been afraid they had been shot down in the city.
Now it looked like I might have to try and get some medical supplies myself. Even if it meant going in the VTOL myself to get them. It was extremely dangerous, and I would ask for volunteers for the flight, but I wouldn't ask anyone else to go. I would never ask my staff to do something I wouldn't do myself. The only thing is I might have to sneak out. The Commanding Officers would probably have a cow if they knew what I was planning. Sometimes you just have to take a risk in the name of the right thing to do.
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Post by Elemental (Local Militia) on Oct 19, 2005 17:22:00 GMT -5
"Commander Garland...do you copy?"
I looked to the other members of the squad. My gaze was met with shaking heads. The Commander still had not responding. I switched over to the general comm.
"Recon-6 to any Legionnaire assets receiving this message...we have Clanner Aisa Thastus in our custody and are requesting direction. Please respond."
I hated working with Mercenaries.
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Post by Captain Adam "Gunman" Wolf on Oct 19, 2005 19:29:57 GMT -5
This post was suppose to have been done yesterday evening, but due to some unavoidable circumstances I didnt get a chance to get on to post it until now
I had just gotten back to the base when smoke began billowing out from the rear torso of my 'mech, the black plume adding to the dismal appearance of the Hatamoto. Ryuuko had done its job, it protected the rear flank during our retreat, and thereby allowed the other MechWarriors to make it back nearly unscathed. Unfortunately she payed the price, although still almost operational in most ways the battered 'mech was in no condition to fight. Had time been more pressing I would have pushed the 80 ton beast straight into battle again, though it would have almost certainly been destroyed facing the WoB forces. Reluctantly I parked the 'mech, leaving it in the skilled and very capable hands of my personal tech Sargeant, nick named "Chief". He immediately began repairs hoping to get it up and running before the Blakists had gathered their forces.
"Chief, how long do you think it'll be before she's ready?"
"Wolf, you've really done it this time, brand spanking new model and you've already messed her up real good. I barely finished reading up on the TRO yesterday, and that new 3rd generation command console..." He dragged out the word a little and then continued with a sigh, "Don't even get me started on that thing. Those damn Clan Heavy Lasers have got more wires and do-dads than I can shake a fist at, hell they're worse than the Clan Targetting Computers."
"Chief I didnt ask for a lecture," I interupted a little perturbed, I normally didnt mind the Chief ranting and raving about things, but time was of the essence right now, I needed to know how long it would take so I could decide what to do next. "I need to know how long she'll be down."
"I can get the armour repaired inside an hour, that's easy. That right arm is a mess though, but I should be able to fix her up and get some armour on it, jury rig it so its somewhat operatable, don't expect it to do anymore than aim straight ahead and shoot though. Not that it'll do you any good, I can't get another Large Heavy Laser installed on there in any acceptable amount of time, despite having one in stock..." The Chief trailed off as if deep in thought, furrowing his brow as he rubbed his chin. Interupting him he looked startled at first.
"How bout just a regular Large or ER Large laser?"
"Yeah that could work, ... no wait, no it won't. I dont know what those DCMS boys were thinking when they built this thing, but the Fire Control System is strictly Clan, it isn't configured to allow I.S. weapons, doesn't make any sense though, the rest of the 'mech can take both I.S. and Clan tech, guess they decided to cut corners. I could fix it, but it'll have to be done later..." Once again the Chief trailed off in his own revelry, a sharp jolt as I grabbed him by the shoulders cleared his mind.
"Chief!"
"Hmm,OH right, right. SOrry Captain got a little carried away. Anyways, I'm afraid I can't get ... Ryu-uot-ino-te ..... whatever you call that thing, fixed in anything less than two hours with a full crew, and that doesn't include your engine. It's F'ed, excuse my language, until I can get it into a full repair bay for at least two days."
"That'll do Chief, just do what you can. Looks like I may be taking out that old Vulture design sooner than I planned."
"Adam, it's still got the 'Dragoon' variant installed for Urban Combat, you can't take that out into the open battlefield..."
"Not much of a choice though is there?"
Just then a corporal came running across the field to where we stood, breathlessly trying to relay a message.
"Captain... Wolf ... sir, we ... have a .......... sorry sir..."
"Slow down Corporal, take your time and catch your breath, ... there now whats this about?"
"Captain Wolf, we have a 'mech for you, seems Blake's Dealer has been stranded and he's offering the service of 3 fully functional BattleMechs in return for some conditions."
"Really?..." I said a little skeptical, I never really trusted 'mech Dealers, at least not the private ones, and the whole 'conditions' thing didn't help any.
"Are you aware of what these 'conditions' are Corporal?"
"No sir, just that the dealer doesnt want the Blakists to get a hold of the 'mechs. Says he would rather have them destroyed fighting the WoB."
"Very well, let's go see this 'mech."
The Corporal and I ran off back in the direction he had come from, leaving Chief to perform repairs on the savaged Hatamoto.
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