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> Operation X: Lockdown
MechWarrior Aisa Thastus
post Oct 8 2006, 01:58 PM
Post #16



Legionnaires | MechWarrior
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Member No.: 46





"We need to work together. We need to put aside our differences."

Tears began to well in my eyes. It was an unusual and unnatural reaction for me, let alone any self-respecting member of a crusader Clan. I wiped them away angrily, and took a deep, shuddering breath. Weeks of torture, sensory deprivation, and starvation had at last begun to take their toll on me, and I didn't know how much longer I could keep myself away from a total meltdown.

Drawing upon the deepest reserves of strength I had left, I began to speak in a slow and calculated tone, hoping that Alex Thorn would not be able to detect the torrent of emotion that was just barely being held at bay.


"Agreed, Alex Thorn. Political divisions have no meaning here. Only survival. I extend my hand to you in...in..."

Mid-sentence, my equilibrium suddenly and violently departed, and my vision began to swirl. I felt as though I were falling - but in which direction, I could not be certain.

"Seyla!"

The browns, blacks, and grays of the prison cell melted together in a dizzying array of colors as a chilling sensation washed over me, and I blacked out.

When I came to, the muted colors of the prison had been replaced by a glistening white, which pushed toward my face with such force that I squinted instinctively. I found myself bereft of sensation - my senses of touch, taste, and sound replaced with a dull void of nothingness. I turned my head to the right, and another plane of color, this one gray and mottled, came into view. Daggers of white angled out from the first plane, interrupting the mottled gray of the second with their harsh edges. I tried to turn further, and suddenly found my entire body facing the void, my back pressed against the white wall. Across the gray canvas rolled dark, imposing storm clouds, their opaque outlines becoming translucent as bolts of purple lightning rippled through them.

It began to dawn on me that the gray void was a sky, although without a proper sense of 'up' and 'down,' I had not immediately realized it. This meant that the 'white' I had seen was most likely the ground, and that I was laying on it.

I looked down at my feet, which seemed hazy and out of focus. Ghostlike trails appeared behind them as I drew my legs into a position which would allow me to rise to a standing position. Slowly, I rose, the scenery around me blurring severely as I moved. If I had been able to feel, I was certain I would have been nauseated.

As my surroundings came back into focus, I found myself standing on a frozen, barren tundra, with snow-covered, rocky outcroppings rising all around me. An angry, dark sky played host to billowing storm clouds, which raced overhead, saturated with spindly tendrils of lightning-like electricity.

To my northeast, a dark, hulking figure stood in the center of a large circle of boulders, partially shrouded in a thick mist which had descended across the landscape. As I made my way toward the figure, it began to take shape, its features rapidly resolving into those of a large, muscular wolf. As the massive creature sniffed at the air and pawed the ground, another figure emerged from the mist - this one a fox, which bounded across the snow and leaped atop one of the encircling boulders. The cry of a bird drew my attention to the sky, and I bore witness, as, from overhead, a large black raven descended, coming to rest on a boulder adjoining the fox. This process continued, until at last, the boulders were dominated by all manner of wildlife, from insects and reptiles to quadrupeds and primates. It was obvious that every creature in the gathering was 'speaking' in its respective 'language' with ever-increasing fervor, although, in the soundless environment, their various calls could not be heard. I imagined it must have been a cacophony.

As the turmoil escalated, the wolf seemed to become increasingly restless, and pawed at the ground with greater urgency. From an observer's standpoint, it almost appeared that the animal was attempting to bring some sense of order to the gathering. The other creatures in the gathering paid the wolf no mind, setting upon each other as their squabbling degenerated into a melee. As the snow in the congregational area became stained with blood, a massive, white bear lunged from the mist, taking the wolf to the ground in a vise-like choke hold, its ivory fangs sinking deep into the dog's throat.

A flicker of black in my peripheral vision drew my attention away from the carnage, to an raised outcropping of rocks several hundred meters to the right. There, a slender, black feline stood, eyes fixated on the brawl unfolding before it. The cat's tail twitched rhythmically, and its whiskers tensed as the wind ruffled its ebony coat. For a moment, the cat's muscles flexed, as though it were preparing to enter the fray. But the creature's signature attack lunge never came. Instead, the cat turned, and made its way across the tundra, disappearing into the mists from which it came. A blinding flash of pure white light engulfed my field of view, and the world rushed away as I was plunged into darkness.

When I came to, I found myself laying unceremoneously face-down on the vile floor of my cell, my head turned toward the far wall. The shouts and obscenities of Charles Maxwell being dragged rudely back to his cage echoed throughout the corridor running lengthwise from one end of the compound to the other. I was not certain how long I had been unconscious - it was still dark outside - but my entire body ached. I pushed myself to my feet, the entire process agonizing and painful. My mind was racing. The vision made no sense to me - and ordinarily, I would have enlisted the help of a Loremaster to find answers. But here, there was no such person.

There was only Alex.


"Alex...Thorn..." I choked out, my throat sandpaper-dry and hoarse. The only water available in the cell was in the rancid ferrosteel commode. I was not about to degenerate myself further by drinking from it. "I ask Clan Wolf for surkai, that you and I may from this day forth be considered...trothkin."


--------------------
Position : MechWarrior
Callsign : Falcon
Current BattleMech : None
Current Inventory : Screwdriver
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MechWarrior Alex Thorn
post Oct 10 2006, 03:30 PM
Post #17



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"Alex...Thorn...I ask Clan Wolf for surkai, that you and I may from this day forth be considered...trothkin."

I nodded, almost shocked at Aisa's change. She struggled to complete the words through her scratchy throat.

I tried to speak again but my own throat resisted. "Trothkin." It was the only thing I could manage to say. Our situation continued to grow worse by the hour. A guard had come by and had caught me sleeping. A beating insude, leaving me bloodied and beaten in my cell.

I waited till the guard had left and was concentrating on his next victim before finally letting out.
"Stravag," I said under my breath. I then leaned agaisnt the wall.

"Aisa, what do you have that could help us out of here?" I watched as the guards made their rounds, careful to not alert them to Aisa and I's converstation.

"All I have is a small pocket knife, and a large string."


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Position : Mechwarrior
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Current BattleMech : Marauder IIC (Wolf's Teeth) [Assault]
Loadout: 3x ER PPC, 2x Medium Pulse Laser, 4x ER Small Laser
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MechWarrior Aisa Thastus
post Oct 10 2006, 04:47 PM
Post #18



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Member No.: 46





"Aisa, what do you have that could help us out of here? All I have is a small pocket knife, and a large string."

Slowly, quietly, I rolled up the leg of my bright orange prison jumpsuit, and withdrew the single item I had managed to abscond with. It was a small Phillips-head screwdriver, one lifted from a technician's toolkit several days prior, after I had inflicted enough damage on my cell door that it warranted repairs. The Blakist toad who had been sent to execute the project was so preoccupied with examining my physical attributes that he failed to notice that one of his tools had disappeared from his inventory. The only thing I had been preoccupied with was keeping myself from crushing the stravag's skull.

"I have a screwdriver. Suggestions?"

The obvious answer was to coordinate a series of events such that Alex and I would be removed from our cells simultaneously, at which time our combined assets could be used to potentially overpower the guards. The question that created, however, was - what then?

Anything was better than continuing to rot in our cells.


--------------------
Position : MechWarrior
Callsign : Falcon
Current BattleMech : None
Current Inventory : Screwdriver
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Frank Reade
post Oct 10 2006, 05:09 PM
Post #19



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I tumbled into my cell, crashing hard and unceremoneously against the rear wall as the Blakist guard shoved me back into my cage.

"What the hell is your deal?" I bellowed, whirling around and charging at the guard. The burly man slammed the barred door shut seconds before I reached him, causing me to collide with it. Undeterred, I reached through the bars, and grabbed hold of his uniform, dragging him against the iron rods separating us. The guard thrashed violently as I punched and pummeled him, eventually overpowering me just long enough to withdraw a canister of OC spray from his belt. With one swift movement, the Blakist brought the pepper spray up and to face level, delivering one long blast to my face. I staggered backwards, clawing at my face and moaning in agony, eventually collapsing to the floor. The guard laughed mockingly, and spit a large, sticky gob of saliva on me before stomping down the corridor to find his next victim.

As the Blakist's heavy footsteps faded away, I lowered my hands and pulled myself to my feet. The OC spray hadn't had any effect on me - years of chemical warfare training with the Crayven Corporation had deadened my senses to such things - and my apparent reaction to the guard's attack was purely theatrical. As I stood up, the faint voice of Captain Desparado filtered into my cell.


"That was stupid of you."

"Not entirely," I smiled, cradling a small, rectangular black box in my hands. "I got his taser."

This post has been edited by Major Frank Reade: Oct 10 2006, 05:10 PM


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Position : Lieutenant | LEGIONNAIRES
Callsign : Fox-2
Current BattleMech : Hollander
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Captain Charles Maxwell
post Oct 12 2006, 02:35 PM
Post #20



AEGIS DIVISION | Commander
Rank: General



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Several days later...
_____________________________

Deacon Rencroft stared at me impassively across the interrogation table.

"Clearly, torture is not a motivator for you, Mister Maxwell."

Though exhausted beyond words, I managed a smirk.

"How perceptive. And it's General Maxwell."

"Yes, about that, 'General,' it has come to my attention that your beloved Crayven Corporation - who, by the way, we had thought exterminated following our conversion of Ney Vesta - has no record of your employment with the company."

"What the hell are you talking about, Rencroft?"

"Sadly, your title means very little. Nothing at all, in fact."

I furrowed my eyebrows.

"You can't back that up."

The Deacon's face lightened slightly.

"Can't I? I beg to differ, my child," Rencroft mused, pressing several buttons on his PDA. "I believe the term your company uses is...'disavowed.' Is that correct?"

My heart sank, and I could feel a wash of blood rushing to my head. Sheer, terrifying panic, which I fought to hold back, began to overcome me.

"How could you possibly know that?" I hissed.

The Deacon smiled.

"My child, the power and influence of Our Blessed Order is felt even in the most remote sections of the galaxy. We have agents working within the Crayven Corporation. Our flow of information is nearly limitless."

"You'll have to do better than that if you want to convince me," I choked, attempting to maintain my steely demeanor.

"Fine," Deacon Rencroft murmered, leaning forward on his forearms. "Your son has Rissikin's disease. And...he died at Deneb Kaitos."


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Position : Commander, Aegis Division
Callsign : Eden
Current BattleMech : CPLT-C1 Catapult
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Corporal Nick Schuster
post Oct 12 2006, 09:51 PM
Post #21



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( okay... here goes...)

The tropical rain pounded down on the prison's corrugated metal roof as I marched along the catwalk in the building's lockup. Making my way past cell after cell, I ignored the catcalls, insults, and pleas for freedom echoing throughout the long room, and pressed my hand against a biometric scanner. The lock on the door beyond popped, and I threw the heavy entrance open, stepping through and down a cheap concrete staircase. Scanning through another door, I walked into a long, open administrative office, with row after row of computer terminals staggered throughout. At each computer terminal sat a carefully-selected prisoner, each one a candidate who had begun to undergo the conversion process to the faith of Blake, and who seemed to display promising results. Each one of the prisoners was working as a data-entry clerk, entering low-priority information into their computer. They didn't look up at me as I walked in - they had been conditioned not to, and I paid them no mind as I stomped briskly past, finally coming to a stop at the newest clerk's station.

"Name."

The clerk looked up at me, an expression of shock bleeding across his face. I ignored it, and frowned.

"...Garland," he replied, the surprise evident in his voice.

I scowled. The clerk had just given me his pre-conversion name, a definite no-no.

"Name," I pressed, anger slipping into my voice.

The clerk looked down guiltily, before slowly glancing back up at me.

"Marx. Victor Marx."

"Good," I replied, slamming a stack of documents down onto Marx's desk. "Now get back to work."


--------------------
Position : Tech Specialist | LEGIONNAIRES
Callsign : MANTIS
Current BattleMech : LGN-01 Kit Fox [Light -35 Tons - 96.75 km/h max]
Loadout : [1x ER Large Laser] [1x Small Pulse Laser] [1x LB-X Autocannon/5 - Ammo: Slug (20 rounds)] [1x Streak SRM-2 (Improved OS) - Ammo: 50 Acid SRM-2 | 50 Anti-Personnel SRM-2] [CASE] [FireScan II with Multi-Trac II & IndirecTrac]
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Corporal James Norrington
post Oct 13 2006, 01:20 AM
Post #22



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Dismantling the autoinjector had revealed a veritable treasure trove of electronic goodness. Within the device 's confined plastic case, I had harvested four needles, two lithium batteries, a switch, a miniature pump, and a bundle of wire. I also had harvested a circuit board, and some plastic tubing. I also had the plastic casing. I was sure there was a way to turn the device into some kind of lethal weapon, but I had no idea where to begin. Instead, I opted for trial and error.

After tinkering with the device for well over an hour, I had managed to destroy the circuit board, shock myself several times, and melt approximately four centimeters of precious wire. I decided to shelf the electronic wizardry, and opt for a more simple solution. The batteries and needles now shoved into a groove behind the toilet for later retrieval, I sharpened the circuit board furiously on my window sill, until, another hour later, I had produced a nasty shiv, which, though diminutive in size, could severely lacerate an assailant. It would have to do for now...until the next communique from the resistence found its way to my cell.


This post has been edited by Lieutenant James Norrington: Oct 13 2006, 01:21 AM


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Position : Corporal | LEGIONNAIRES
Callsign : Command-2
Current BattleMech : Centurion
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Captain Desparado
post Oct 13 2006, 04:58 AM
Post #23



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A smile spread across my face at Major Reade's new toy. Reckless... I like your style Major. He nodded, returning my grin, quickly hiding the taser safely.

A few hours passed slowly in my cell befoer a routine interrogation team was dispatched to manhandle me into that familiar room for a chit chat with Lt.Schuvaltz. I was unceremoniously thrown on the floor, hands bound behind me and there I stayed. A few moments later the Lieutenant entered the dark room, his boots stuck slightly to the floor, most likely a mixture of blood and sweat that never recieved the attention that it deserved. The stench so close to my face was stifiling but I played cool, usually unnerving Schuvaltz. I took the initiative and decided that I was going to have some fun and put him on the offensive, I spoke first.


Ah! Lieutenent, just the man I was hoping to find! Are you aware of the sorts of ruffians running about here? Crazy brutes, the lot of them! I was hoping to bring this matter to your attention. He was in no mood for any of my sarcasm, he ignored it, getting to the topic he was anxious to address.

Well then, it seems as though there is some hostility between us two and I was hoping to resolve some of our conflicts out in the open.

I was under the impression that we were getting along swimmingly. His face contorted to anger and he kicked my chest before kneeling down beside me. As I gasped for air, he grabbed a large handful of hair and used it to bash my head against the disgusting cold concrete floor before pulling me up to his face. He rasped at me through clenched teeth, his hot breath across my face.

I'm getting sick of your bullshit. I should have killed you long ago but you were aboard the Crimson Platform with the transgressors. YOU WILL TELL ME WHY OR I AM GOING TO LOSE MY PATIENCE WITH YOU! A gaurd outside had hear the yelling and cracked open the door wide enough to see what was going on. Seeing the Lieutenent in full control of the situation, he closed the door again and resumed his indirect vigilance. Blood flowed sticky through my hair, my vision wavered and had difficulty focusing. My pupils widened and contracted involuntarily as I struggled for air. Schuvaltz released me and wiped the blood on his hand on my bare chest, he rose and pulled a chair beside me.

Who in the hell are you and why are you with these who violently opposed the Hand of Blake? I will not be asking you this politely ever again.

But... you will ask again? My insolence was rewarded with a swift stomp to my shoulder, I curled up in reaction to the pain and lie still.

Were it not the wish of my superiors, you would be dead already. You may have a chance to thank them for their mercy, as taught by the Blessed Blake if only you would show some cooperation. Now I am afraid I have more important business than you at the moment. Lt.Schuvaltz kicked me onto my back and placed his weaight on the foot on my neck.

I'm afraid you force me to once again use... unorthodox methods. Our next meeting will be quite unconfortable for you, but I would imagine it to be something small in comparison to what you're about to go through. I struggled to get out from under his boot, the treads dug in deep to the soft flesh of my neck. My lungs burned for air and both eyes bluged out of my head. He lifted his foot and looked on me once more before turning to the door. It opened and he hissed an order to two men on either side of the door.

Take him to the medical facility, I want him implanted immediately.

Implanted? I managed to choke the word out. He only walked away, his chuckling faded down the corridor, as did my conciousness.


--------------------
Position : Captain | LEGIONNAIRES
Callsign : Libra - 1
Current BattleMech : Sunder Leviathan
Loadout : 4 ER Large Lasers, 1 Clan LBX AC20, 3 ER Medium Lasers, 1 Clan LRM20, LAMS
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Captain Garrett Garland
post Oct 13 2006, 06:35 PM
Post #24



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Blake’s blood, another returns!

“Name.”

“Garland.”

The word came from my mouth before I realized what I was saying. It was my first slip-up, and I intended it to be my last. If my survival depended on me pretending to adopt a new name, then I would… but I would know who I really was. I was glad though, that I had said it, looking Schuster right in the eyes as I did so. He knew it was me.

“Name.” He repeated.

“Marx. Victor Marx.” I was surprised at the name they had given me, I thought they would try and expunge the entirety of my Lyran heritage, but I could hardly think of a name more deeply rooted in Lyran ancestry. My eyes did not waver as I said my ‘blessed name’; I was searching for a splinter of the man I once knew—or at least a resemblance to another man who’s life I had once saved, only to die by his own hand not so far later.

“Good. Now get back to work.”

Better this than working under the trigger happy wardens outside. But where were my fellow Legionnaires—those who hadn’t been… turned? Taking the top sheet off the stack set on my desk by Schuster, I read the form. They were prisoners’ body weights taken at set intervals by whatever qualified as medical technicians around here. As I entered set after set of weights I found that it would be easy to map the data with a simple function, one that went exponentially down. If only the prisoners weren’t listed by number instead of name I might have known who had made it.



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Position : Captain | LEGIONNAIRES
Callsign : Fox
Current BattleMech : Shadow Hawk [55 tons] [97.2 km/h max] [120 meter jump range]
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Sergeant Hobson
post Oct 13 2006, 08:46 PM
Post #25



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"You there. Get up."

The voice sounded familiar. Excruciatingly familiar, though I couldn't immediately place it. The thick Lyran accent was unmistakable, and the light tenor elicited memories of someone I had encountered in the past. I slowly dragged myself to my feet, using the walls of the cell for support as my legs wobbled unsteadily beneath me. As I pulled my body to the fullest stance it was capable of after unrelenting weeks of torture, I came face to face with a ghost from the Legionnaires' past.

No...it CAN'T be!

The wiry build...the bleach-blond hair...the narrow, angry blue eyes - there was no question as to who the speaker was. It was Nicholas Schuster, a former MechWarrior of the unit, one who had spiraled into substance abuse and alcoholism...

...and who's supposed to be DEAD!

My mind reeled, trying to comprehend the recent turn of events as I was escorted down the cell block's catwalk by two brutish guards, Schuster walking ahead of them, cutting a menacing figure in a jet-black, militaristic dress uniform. As we exited the compound, I was immediately assailed by golf ball-sized raindrops, which pounded down on me with such ferocity that I flinched to shield myself from the downpour. The guards, noticing the tensing of my arms, immediately clamped their grips down, sending intense spasms of pain shooting along my limbs. Schuster, noticing the altercation, chuckled, a light, lilting laugh mocking my predicament as he withdrew a formal cap from his belt and placed it atop his head.

"You're losing brownie points, Josiah," Schuster laughed, referring to me by the 'new' name I was supposed to respond to, before pivoting on one heel and ambling jauntily toward a heavily-laden delivery truck.

"This truck is your new best friend," Schuster began, deploying an umbrella and angling it over his head as the rain intensified. "It is full of supplies that both you and your fellow converts will require to maintain the joyous and bountiful standard of living which you enjoy here at the Citadel."

I frowned, blinking furiously to divert the streams of water which poured down my forehead away from my eyes.

"The Blessed One has dictated that your task will be to unload this truck, and carry its contents to that warehouse - over there," Schuster said, pointing toward a long building nearly a kilometer away. "Once you have completed a delivery, you will return to the truck, and collect another, and so on and so on, until you've unloaded the truck. If you work diligently, it should only take, oh," Schuster paused, glancing at his watch, "about two hours. Questions?"

"Am I permitted any...tools...like a handcart?" I asked, squinting to make Nicholas out through the maelstrom.

"Yes, yes, you are," Schuster replied excitedly. "Your hands! Now...get to it."


--------------------
Recipient of the Order of Katherine Steiner medal for distinguished performance in combat.
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Wedge Lourde
post Oct 14 2006, 01:57 PM
Post #26



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I awoke to the rambling of 2 doctors. This time, there were no windows. No way of telling where I was, but it was a doctor's room.

"Sargent, please drag him to a new cell. His vitals are stable, and he will be able to function. He's a Legionnaire scum, so do with him what you will."

I was drugged again, and I don't remember much after that. I woke up just in time to see a Super Sledge swinging down from the ceiling at my nads. I tried to scream as it descended down at me, but only strange electronic musics came out of my mouth. I heard the most terrible crunch you could imagine, and then my memory blanked out again

When I woke up again I was in a room with a loud circus music playing. I was cold and naked and an ape was hissing at me. I tried to ask it for help, but it shot me with a dart gun. I blacked out again.

When I came to I was in another room. This one had many holes in the ceiling. As I looked up into them, I heard the most terrible sound of a ton of toilets flushing all at once. Before I could think about what was happening, millions of gallons of Blakist toilet flush rushed in. I was carried away in a torrential flood of terrible brown water and went unconscious again.

When I finally woke up I found myself in a wet, cold room with a broken, tipped sink. There wasn't even a bed. I had to figure out what the hell was going on, it didn't just seem right. Where is my crew? Where the hell am I to go? Will I ever see daylight?



"You there, Prisoner 98025176354834, Get up! Now! Schnell!"
Said the guard.
He dragged me outside, into a terrible downpour. The huge Ferosteel door banged shut loudly, its hydraulic speed controller obviously malfunctioning. He led me to a truck, where a man was standing, giving orders to... Sergeant Hobson!

"Keep up the good work, Josiah. Maybe you and your new partner can stop for a lunch break, if you two get the work done. Quickly! Sergeant! Bring the new prisoner over here!"

I was greeted with a painful kick to the back, and I fell into the mud. In doing so, Hobson could not see beyond the box, and tripped over me into the mud, and along came his load, which spilled and loaded all over the ground.

The taskmaster laughed such that was searing to the ear. He laughed so hard that a fart came out. He was laughing so hard that several of his mangled teeth fell from his head. I wanted to get up and punch him in the face, but Hobson lay on top of me.


"Well, my children, no lunch for you two! Now you must do double the work! Get moving!"


--------------------
Position : MechWarrior | LEGIONNAIRES
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Corporal Nick Schuster
post Oct 15 2006, 04:57 PM
Post #27



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As the two P.O.W.s set about unloading the truck as quickly as their exhausted bodies would permit, I turned on my heel, and trudged back to the prison compound. Garland had been fairly easy to convert...suspiciously easy, even. Lourde, on the other hand, had required extensive medical experimentation and alteration, including several lobotomies, to encourage his compliance. I shook my head at the thought.

Moving through the compound, I made my way back into the long, narrow prison building holding the bulk of the surviving Legionnaires. Scanning into the 'maximum security' ward, I walked toward the cells where Charles Maxwell and the Clanners were being held. I'd been ordered to direct the Deacons to up the pressure on Maxwell's interrogation sessions. Unfortunately, the former General was not in his cell, and so, I decided to pass the time by installing several surveillence devices in his holding area.


--------------------
Position : Tech Specialist | LEGIONNAIRES
Callsign : MANTIS
Current BattleMech : LGN-01 Kit Fox [Light -35 Tons - 96.75 km/h max]
Loadout : [1x ER Large Laser] [1x Small Pulse Laser] [1x LB-X Autocannon/5 - Ammo: Slug (20 rounds)] [1x Streak SRM-2 (Improved OS) - Ammo: 50 Acid SRM-2 | 50 Anti-Personnel SRM-2] [CASE] [FireScan II with Multi-Trac II & IndirecTrac]
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Sergeant Hobson
post Oct 15 2006, 05:28 PM
Post #28



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The boxes felt like thousand-kilogram weights under my fatigued muscles as I slogged, exhausted, through the muddy downpour. Several times, I staggered, nearly causing the boxes to scatter everywhere, but somehow, I managed to keep my footing. Maybe it was the ever-present threat of torture that loomed over every prisoner within the compound that kept me motivated - or maybe it was that my willpower had finally begun to give out, but whatever the reason, it worked. The fact that I had another Legionnaire with me, Wedge Lourde, somehow made the severity of the situation slightly more bearable. As I dropped off the first load of boxes, and turned to trudge back into the rain, I noticed Wedge staggering toward me, carrying an ungainly stack of crates. Quickly, I rushed to help him.

"Wedge...this is ridiculous. We've got to get out of here. I don't know how, but we have to find a way."


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Recipient of the Order of Katherine Steiner medal for distinguished performance in combat.
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Captain Charles Maxwell
post Oct 15 2006, 05:44 PM
Post #29



AEGIS DIVISION | Commander
Rank: General



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Group: Crayven Securities, Inc.
Posts: 108
Joined: 16-December 05
Member No.: 4





"Dead? What are you talking about?"

Deacon Rencroft smirked at me.

"What part of 'your son is dead' don't you understand, Mister Maxwell? Benjamin is no longer amongst the living. Shuffled off the mortal coil, as it were. 'Bought the farm,' even."

I refused to accept Rencroft's propeganda.

"You're full of shit."

The Deacon frowned.

"I thought you might say that," Rencroft murmered, slapping a pile of photographs on the table before me. "Here's the proof."

Slowly, hesitantly, I reached for the stack of photos. The first shot was of a gruesome scene of utter destruction - the former control room of the Crimson Platform, caught in still-life as a smoldering crater by the helmet-mounted camera of a Blakist soldier. After scrutinizing it for several long moments, I set it aside, and moved on to the second...


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Position : Commander, Aegis Division
Callsign : Eden
Current BattleMech : CPLT-C1 Catapult
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MechWarrior Alex Thorn
post Oct 17 2006, 09:58 AM
Post #30



LEGIONNAIRES
Rank: MechWarrior



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Member No.: 10





I nodded as Thastus said that she had a screwdriver.

"Okay here is what we can do." I then laid my plans out. The idea was to be able to get us both out of our cells at the same time. I thought the best way to do this was either start picking a fight with each other or some of the other prisoners. That way they would have to move us from the current cells. Then we would use what we had to kill the guards that were in the cell block. As inhumain as it was the screwdriver, knife, and string were going to have to work.

Next we would "borrow" the guards uniforms. I was hoping that the others would not recognize the names and faces of the guards. If so we could use the access cards from the guards to get to the others. If a fight broke out we would have the proper gear to fight.

The plan was then to rescue the others. We would continue to use the uniforms for the others. If that was out of the question we would give the story that the master needed to speak with all of the captured Legionnaires. We then would all have to work together on how to actually get off of the planet.

After finished telling Aisa my plan I started to pick a fight with the prisoner next to me.


"Shut up," a guard yelled my way.

Ignoring the man I continued to badger the prisoner.

"I said shut up." The guard yelled louder. I continued picking the fight. From what I could tell it was working.

"Okay that is it. We are moving you." He gathered his keys and I smirked as he approched. He opened the cell and walked in. I swiftly pulled him in. I pulled the string around his neck and began to choke him. After a few moments of struggling and trying to hide his gargaling, silence filled my cell. I quickly stripped the guard and traded his clothes for mine. Leaving him in the corner I locked the cell door behind me. I then watched as Aisa took out the female guard who had dared to enter her cell. She did the same and we were both free to complete the rest of the plan.

I nodded.
"Okay things have gone good so far. Let's get the others and get out of this hell hole."

This post has been edited by Sergeant Alex Thorn: Oct 17 2006, 04:25 PM


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Position : Mechwarrior
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Current BattleMech : Marauder IIC (Wolf's Teeth) [Assault]
Loadout: 3x ER PPC, 2x Medium Pulse Laser, 4x ER Small Laser
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