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> Operation XII: Homeworld
Commodore Benjamin Maxwell
post Jun 10 2007, 10:24 PM
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The Dauntless bucked and shuddered as its spherical hull hit the irrradiated upper atmosphere of Tau Ceti IV, sending cold chills across my spine as, for the first time, our unit came in physical contact with the world since the catastrophic events of 3067. I still couldn't wrap my mind around why Harris had chosen this place to stage our final defensive - the last, decisive battle against our savior-come-traitor that was the Crayven Corporation. Was it chance? Or did the now-barren world, once known as 'New Earth' posess some manner of strategic value of which we were simply unaware? Was there yet another godforsaken Word of Blake 'treasure' buried here that the despot of the day was longing to get his hands on? Or was Ron Harris' choice of a staging ground - our own personal Mound of Meggido - deliberate, specifically chosen with the morbid irony of it all in mind?

I had little time to dwell on the semantics of it. A more pressing need - to get the lance orders out and confirmed - was presenting itself, as our time to planetfall was fast drawing near.


"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome back to Tau Ceti IV," I intoned into my headset, its built in monitor feeding my own voice back to me in a tinny, filtered delivery. "The environment's a bit more hostile than many of you may recall it being, so please refrain from any extravehicular sightseeing as much as possible. Also, be aware that a sulphuric acid thunderstorm is fast approaching our drop site, and needless to say, a firefight in the middle of such a meterological event is a quick way to die if you're not careful. With those public service announcements out of the way, let's get down to business."

I punched a series of commands into my cockpit's holoprojector, bringing up a three-dimensional representation of the tac overview.

"Kodiak Lead, you and your lance will be the tip of our spear once we hit the dirt. Straight off the DropShip, you'll be engaging the Crayven Corporation's Talon Star - arguably their most heavily armed lance that our intel is aware of. They've made a push toward the Astrid and, thanks to that charming development, we'll be coming in practically on top of them. We need you to get them away from the landing zone and also fend off any of their friends that might be waiting in the wings. Meanwhile, while the Dauntless sets up shop, myself and Castle Lance will disembark and make our way toward Ron Harris' command lance. Once we link up with him, we'll support him as the tactical situation dictates.

"Sabre Lead: You are to move your lance to the Astrid immediately upon planetfall and set up a line of defense with the rebel forces. Saxon's going to be throwing quite a bit of lead your way, and we'll be relying heavily on you and your men to make sure the defensive line isn't broken.

"Gentlemen, this is your last opportunity to pose any questions. We'll be putting down in this rock in ninety seconds."


[ - Soundtrack - ]


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Lieutenant Commander Marcus Braddock
post Jun 10 2007, 11:38 PM
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"Gentlemen, this is your last opportunity to pose any questions. We'll be putting down in this rock in ninety seconds."

This crackled in my earpiece as I was busy dry retching, my body convulsing and heaving even strapped tightly into the pilot's chair. FTL decelarations always do this to me, I can't understand it. I've made a habit of not eating anything in the hours before decelaration to aviod having to share my cockpit with pools of brown demi-liquid.
My cockpit.
Proteus, my Mad Cat class mech, stooped lower than most of the other mechs in the hold. That didn't matter, I knew for a fact that she could outrun most of the larger metallic monsters.
I nodded my nuerohelmeted head affectionately, and Proteus' nodded with me, her splashes of white and cyan paintwork glinting in the harsh artificial light of the mechhold.
The Dauntless shuddered heavily again.
I had recovered enough to splutter into the intercom;

"Sir, I'm confused... Okay, just one more time, what Lance am I riding with this time around?"

This post has been edited by Talus: Jun 11 2007, 12:52 AM


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Position: Lieutenant Commander | Legionnaires
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Captain Desparado
post Jun 11 2007, 12:12 AM
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"Kodiak Lead, you and your lance will be the tip of our spear once we hit the dirt. Straight off the DropShip, you'll be engaging the Crayven Corporation's Talon Star - arguably their most heavily armed lance that our intel is aware of.

Cheers from my anxious lancemates rang through my helmet. I was just as excited as them, the grin on my face was proof.

"Gentlemen, this is your last opportunity to pose any questions. We'll be putting down on this rock in ninety seconds."


You heard the man, disengage those docking clamps, I want you free from your stalls before the bay door even opens. Pair off, Ian and Jason, I want you two together. Pheonix, you're with me.

Locks and clamps sounded through the mechbay like a monotone symphony and Kodiak lance was free. I was first in front of the door, crouched until we land. The ship's engines pushed harder and harder against gravity, rattling me horribly. My cockpit lurched down and bounced back up violently, I ignored my stomach and brought my Sunder to a stand as the large ferrosteel doors parted. Ben had been right, trees shook a ways out, others outright fell. Crayven was not far off. I charged through the opening plowing into trees at full speed, splintering them effortlessly.

We're the only thing between this lance and the Dauntless, push through and keep on running. We're too close to keep this fight here. Do what it takes, just draw them off.

The sound of the forestry being pulverized grew louder until I reached a small clearing perhaps 300m wide. I stood here and waited alongside Pheonix who had already acquired a lock on our un fortunate target, the fastest and smallest of the bunch, the Mad dog. It came crashing through the treeline just as our combined missiles took flight. Overwhelmed, the poor mech was knocked off its feet. It never got back on them after my LBX sounded, the fusion explosion leveled trees in a 75m radius and sent fire racing through the trees farther than that. Out next came the Hunchback, I delegated that to Ian and Jason. We had to stop the heavy hitters quickly.

A Warhawk emerged from the blazing trees, flaming debris clinging to parts of it. He opened fire, all his energy weapons striking me, direct hit, center torso. I cycled my weapons angrily in response, rocking the Warhammer violently. Pheonix's generous volley slammed into the Starleague era mech, it barely maintained its balance. Overheated, the Warhammer shutdown. We would have to finish him off later, the Dire Wolf and Timber Wolf marched though the wall of flame side-by-side.


Push them back! Go behind! We need more distance for the Dauntless!

My Sunder had well over a dozen heatsinks, the flames would not bother me, Pheonix might feel the heat, but we would only have one chance at this.

Pheonix, get behind them, find a cool spot and get a few good locks on that Dire Wolf if you can. I got a plan.

The Dire Wolf stepped in front of the downed Warhammer, sheilding him from my fury. I swung wide at top speed, encircling the three mechs. The two clan mechs followed my movements exactly, it was working. A flash illuminated the woods and I let out a breath of relief when I noticed ACs slug pounding the Warhammer, it was the rest of Kodiak lance. I continued my full circle twice until I had the two clan mechs following closely. I straightened out my path away from the Dauntless and the beligerants followed. I had taken quite a beating so far but I felt as though I was in total control of the battle. A volley of LRMs leapt from the foliage and streaked towards the Dire Wolf. I did a 180 and throttled in full reverse, hammering the Dire Wolf, trying to repay the damage he had given me. A series of impacts rocked my mech, my heat meter was in the red as well. I flushed coolant, hoping that I didn't just lose a few heatsinks.

Lets wrap this up people! Concentrate fire!


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Lieutenant Commander Marcus Braddock
post Jun 11 2007, 01:05 AM
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The sharp report of LRM impacts rolled into the Mech hold, and the other Lances lined up to disembark, myself amongst them. I was still dazed, confused, but I coaxed Proteus into a pounding run down the ramp of the gargantuan dropship amongst the milling mechwarriors.
Once I was on solid ground, I vainly listened to the comms chatter, trying to pick up orders from someone, anyone.
I swung Proteus around, looking for someone to follow.
Up ahead, Kodiak lance was engaged in a flurry of LRM's and laser bursts, driving further away from the grounded Dauntless. I tried to recall my orders again. A mental blank.


"Hello there, I uhh- What?! Heads up!"

I was cut off by a wing of Crayven attack aerodynes I had spotted swooping towards our LZ, and the tangle of mechs disembarking there.

Ok guys, that's my weekend over. I'll be back in a few days, and will probably have my orders by then, cheers and good luck!


--------------------
Position: Lieutenant Commander | Legionnaires
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Loadout: - 2x Holly LRM 15 launchers (shoulder mounted).
- 4x Martell Medium Lasers (torso mounted).
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MechWarrior Alex Thorn
post Jun 12 2007, 10:21 AM
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I began the final check on my Uziel before Castle lance was to dissengage from the dropship. I took a deep breath, not caring that it would activate the mic. I needed to calm down my nerves. To me this mission seemed more suicidal than the plan that me and Thastus had come up with to escape the prison back on Kittery.

I lowered my head in honor of the warrior. Losing a trothkin left me somewhat empty, but the fact that she died honorably comforted me.

Nerves calmed I concentrated on what was about to happen. I gripped my control stick and throttled my 'Mech out of the bay. The flow of air rushed passed my 'Mech as I began the descent into the fray. Landing roughly, twenty yards from where I was supposed to hit, I adjusted course and waited for the others to land.


"Okay Castle lead. Locked and ready to go. Waiting for your orders."

I was ready to start and end this fight, and I was willing to do anything to get rid of the Crayven threat.

[ - Soundtrack - ]

This post has been edited by Sergeant Alex Thorn: Jun 12 2007, 10:22 AM


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Commodore Benjamin Maxwell
post Jun 13 2007, 08:23 PM
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As Kodiak Lance and Sabre Lance exploded into balls-to-the-wall combat, Castle Lance snaked its way subtly past the heated engagement, drawing nary a single shot from the Crayven assailants, who smashed into the defending mercenaries with a fury I had heretofore never witnessed on the battlefield - not even when facing down the most ruthless of Blakist forces. A cacaphony of explosions heralded our passing, with armor and components flying in all directions, golden orange blossoms of flame rolling across the frames of battered war machines, and the siren song of pilots in distress crackling across the comms. I wanted to rush to the aid of my comrades-in-arms, but knew that I needed to stay the course - it would do me no good to break off my approach to the rebel fortification and leave them open to an unanticipated attack when two full lances of my own were, at least for the moment, doing an admirable job holding back the tide of oncoming forces, even as Saxon's Scorpio Lance hammered into Wedge Lourde's Sabre Lance and Talon Star put up a valiant struggle against Desparado's Kodiak pilots.

Careful, guys...Ares Lance is still unaccounted for. Saxon's out there...somewhere...

Our detachment of 'Mechs descended into a hardened valley of ferrocrete...a valley I just barely recognized as the radiated remnants of the Tarrant Canal. The once-lush waterway, which had teemed with life and glistened with fresh, sparkling water, now glowered as a dry, shattered maw in the sickly green daylight. Though its original intended use was far behind it, the construct now served as an ample form of cover for our BattleMechs to traverse. While many stray rounds from the main engagement soared overhead, no direct fire was ever inflicted upon us by the combatants. And so we travelled, unassailed, to the rocky outcropping where Ron Harris' lance should have been.

But where the encampent had been reported to have stood, there was only barren land.


What the hell??


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Position: Senior Captain | Legionnaires
Current BattleMech: WHF-3B White Flame (Lothos) [Heavy - Quad]
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Lieutenant Commander Marcus Braddock
post Jun 14 2007, 02:42 AM
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Castle and Sabre lance were still organising themselves at the LZ as the aerodynes swooped in low on their first run. Volleys of rockets were unleashed and peppered into the clustered battlemechs. Reacting quickly, I hauled my leg controls back, forcing Proteus into a backwards half-hop that took me out of the line-of-fire of the aerodyne wing.

As Sabre lance dissentangled itself and headed off to join Kodiak lance in engaging the brunt of the Crayven assault forces, the remaining mechs reacted to the attack with scattered fire that bolted after the aerodynes, who were swinging around for another run. I swung my torso around, squaring Proteus up against their formation and raised my arms. My FF overlay quickly designated each target with a red marker.
As I watched, two on their left flank were swatted away by microlaser fire from the assembled mechs of Castle lance, who were beginning to head of towards their objective.
Forgetting my quest for orders, I zeroed in on the remaining three, still bearing down on us.
As they loosed their next salvo, I jammed down the triggers under both hands, discharging my complement of small and microlasers in a flurry of bright pulses.
The two aerodynes on the outside of the formation were shorn apart instantly, the remains of their wings and tailfins spinning into gravity's embrace.
I adjusted my aim at their leader as their last rockets thudded into Proteus. My nueral-feedback system barely even buzzed, all insignificant hits.
I pulled. The aerodyne blew out.

Now. Back to business.

"Kodiak lead, Sabre lead, you guys need anything blown away?"
I may not have known my orders, but I knew what I enjoyed doing.
Ares lance were going to be challenge, and I wanted in on that challenge.

I swung Proteus around ninety degrees and pushed the pedals forward, urging her into a thundering gallop towards where Kodiak and Sabre lances were engaged.
They were easy enough to find.
Just follow the explosions.


This post has been edited by Talus: Jun 14 2007, 02:46 AM


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Position: Lieutenant Commander | Legionnaires
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Captain Desparado
post Jun 15 2007, 12:26 AM
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"Kodiak lead, Sabre lead, you guys need anything blown away?"

Talus, I'm deputizing you. You are now Kodiak-5, get over here and take some of this heat off of me.

I had been stupid and taken a lot of damage already from the two clan omni mechs. My plan was to pull away and let my star substitute now but I found that backing out was becomming exceedingly more difficult. It was apparent that I was the target of choice and by now it was also quite evident that with three fifths of the star destroyed, they couldn't win this battle. At this point it was a battle of attrition for them. This was going to be a bit of a bumpy ride for me.

Looks like they're not letting go of me. Kodiak lance, concentrate fire of the Dire Wolf's legs.

I did the same, an alpha strike on the left leg ending in a jarring blast from my LBX-AC. Lasers, LRMs, autocannon slugs and a heavy gauss round smashed the right leg quickly and a similar amount of punishment befell the other soon after. Crippled, the Dire Wolf toppled over face first, smashing the pilot underneath massive weight. The remaining Timber Wolf was subject to similar fire and suffered a withering amount of fire. Its destruction was carried out swiftly with the combined might of five heavy or assault class mechs. I sighed deeply as I scanned my mech's status in the HUD, half yellow, half red. Not pretty after only one assault lance, we were still up against several more challenges during this theatre.

Dauntless, this is Kodiak Lead. Looks clean around here, Talon lance is history and Crayven Aerospace assets are fleeing. We'll continue to patrol the peremeter but need a quick repair and reload as soon as our techs can manage it. Over.


--------------------
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Lieutenant Commander Marcus Braddock
post Jun 15 2007, 02:21 AM
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"Talus, I'm deputizing you. You are now Kodiak-5, get over here and take some of this heat off of me!"

Desperado's neurohelmeted head dissapeared from my holo-display as quickly as it had appeared.

"Can do, Kodiak lead."

I slowed Proteus down and took in the scene before me. Kodiak lance was engaged in a standing firefight with the remaining targets of what my display identified as the crayven Talon lance.
The two enemy mechs were concentrating fire upon Desperado's battered machine.


"Looks like they're not letting go of me. Kodiak lance, concentrate fire of the Dire Wolf's legs!"

Right on cue, I arrived next to Pheonix as Kodiak lance, as one, switched their streams of fire to slag the Dire Wolf's legs. I joined in with my medium lasers, hitting the thumb-studs alternately to ensure a steady stream of fire.
After a few seconds, the Dire Wolf collapsed, It's knee-joints reduced to liquid metal.
Kodiak Lance's combined arms quickly switched targets to the lonely Timber Wolf, who followed his comrade to the ground in short order.
Then there was silence.
Well, as silent as it could be with the burning forests, the distant crump of heavy fire, and the sound of freindly battlemechs swinging around, looking for remaining targets.


"Alright! Bloody corporates!"

I gunned Proteus a few hundred metres ahead of the rest of the lance, and looked fleetingly around, wondering if this was the worst Crayven and Corp had in store for us.

I probably shouldn't have been so far ahead of the lance...


--------------------
Position: Lieutenant Commander | Legionnaires
Current Battlemech: Catapult - "Jackal."
Loadout: - 2x Holly LRM 15 launchers (shoulder mounted).
- 4x Martell Medium Lasers (torso mounted).
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Commodore Benjamin Maxwell
post Jun 16 2007, 09:32 PM
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"Dauntless, this is Kodiak Lead. Looks clean around here, Talon lance is history and Crayven Aerospace assets are fleeing. We'll continue to patrol the peremeter but need a quick repair and reload as soon as our techs can manage it. Over."

"Roger that, Kodiak Lead. Hold and fortify your position as best you can. Recovery-1 and Recovery-2 are en route. We can have you back on your feet shortly, but you need to keep the heat off of us for as long as you can."

"Copy. We'll hold the fort. Just get that crap out to us as quick as you can."


As the radio traffic subsided, I depressed the thumb toggle for my comm unit.

"Home Plate, this is Castle-1. We are at Nav Epsilon and are showing no rebel command forces present. Have you been able to raise the Astrid?"

"Roger, Castle-1," came the voice of Sergeant Hobson. "Astrid reports that Harris, Reese, and a full detachment of their own assets deployed to that location three hours ago, but that radio contact was lost approximately twenty minutes prior to your arrival. Their transponders went off the grid around the same time."

"Nice of them to let us know so promptly," I muttered. "Has search and rescue been deployed?"

"Negative. With so much AA activity in the area, SAR can't get a VTOL up. If the screen could be knocked down, there might be a chance."

"Where's the screen located?"

There came a brief pause.

"The bulk of the anti-aircraft emplacements covering this immediate region are fifteen kilometers out, in what's left of the Pasteur township. It appears that the Word of Blake has fortified themselves in what's left of the village's main street, using the buildings as cover for their missile batteries. They've got it pretty heavily defended with a real odd mishmash of 'Mechs - sensor drones are showing four Riflemen, three Urbanmechs and a Caesar, and an Atlas supported by twin Marksman tanks watching over the lot. There's also an indeterminate number of Battle Armor and infantry swarming around the area - I can't get an exact count or classification on what those consist of."

Nothing our lance can't handle...

"Very well. Mark the position on Castle Lance's HUDs and show us diverting to the Pasteur township. Change our activity classification from support to search and rescue, and allocate resources accordingly."

"Roger. Pasteur has been uploaded as Nav Theta. Search and rescue resources will be allocated. Also, Major, we have one other iron in the fire."

"Go ahead."

A deadly pause filled the channel.

"We're showing General Saxon's Ares Lance inbound on Kodiak Lance. Contact in twenty minutes - maybe less."


--------------------
Position: Senior Captain | Legionnaires
Current BattleMech: WHF-3B White Flame (Lothos) [Heavy - Quad]
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Captain Charles Maxwell
post Jun 16 2007, 09:51 PM
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Elsewhere...

Gellen's Heights Spaceport
Gellen's Heights, Sheratan
11 May 3071
____________________________

With a loud hiss, the seal on the main gantryway of the interstellar transport disengaged, and the hatch slowly rolled away, allowing artificial light to spill into the underbelly of the luxury liner as the filtered atmosphere of the transport began to mix with the crisp, fresh air pumped throughout the spaceport of the capital city to which we now returned. At the foot of the gantry ramp was constructed an elaborate security checkpoint, with several heavily-armed infantrymen, twin sets of Kanazuchi Battle Armor, and a slew of security screeners standing between the passengers aboard the transport and the inner sanctum of the spaceport, armed with a slew of detection, scanning, and identity verification equipment. As I took in the sight with a growing amount of trepidation beginning to gnaw at the back of my mind, an overly-cheerful steward appeared at the head of our group and began explaining - in an inordinately loud voice - the procedures that were to follow. I tried my best to filter out the shrill utterings of the man - I didn't need anything explained to me; the Crayven Corporation had designed most of the equipment being used at the checkpoint and had consulted on the installation and operating procedures with the spaceport, and thus I was already intimately familiarized with the process. Instead, I leaned toward Sam Grisham, gesturing at him to move closer to me.

"Mister Grisham, I believe we may have a problem," I hissed, the words just barely audible above the ambient noise around us. "I'll bet you my next pension check that at least one - if not both - of us is on their 'immediate detention' list - and I'll further wager that it's me."


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Captain Garrett Garland
post Jun 17 2007, 11:33 PM
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A haze had settled on the horizon, a perpetual cloud of toxic particles and carbon dioxide that the planet’s failing ecosystem tried to fix, but it would be ultimately futile. However, another cloud came on the horizon. Castle lance’s massive war machines strode forth towards the vestiges of Pasteur Township, their armored and clawed feet striking the earth, leaving imprints in the wasteland, sure to remain until they were boiled away by the burning sulfur rains. Bits of dirt and dust were kicked up behind us; no moisture to conceal the dust clouds. Clearly the AA-base was set up just for that, anti-air. The Rifleman BattleMechs were the best at what they did, shoot down AeroSpace fighters, but they were surely not good infighting ‘Mechs—get behind one and their thin armor would disintegrate under the lightest of weapons’ fire.

“Major, someone’s lighting us up, ‘bout time.” I said into the comm as my Templar’s sensors picked up a radar tight scanning our reinforced lance. The BattleMech’s advanced computer tracked the radar to its source, a Swiftwind speeding away as fast as it could. “Looks like a Swiftwind tagged us, but it’s out of range. I guess we can expect some kind of ambush when we reach theta.”


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Commodore Benjamin Maxwell
post Jun 19 2007, 09:41 PM
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I chuckled.

"That Swiftwind may have tagged us, but at least its crew will be going home in a box."

Moments after the words escaped my lips, the Swiftwind was immollated by an orange fireball, highlighted by the cerulean-blue electrical tendrils of twin PPC bolts that had found their marks. A smile of satisfaction crossed my face as my Daishi's gunports cooled. As predicted, moments later, my scope came alight with enemy contacts.

"Castle Lance, break formation! Target at your discretion and engage at will!"


--------------------
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Captain Garrett Garland
post Jun 20 2007, 02:00 AM
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With the azure beams of ionized particles still lapping at the Swiftwind’s charred husk, I moved my titanic Templar forward, stepping on the remains of buildings that had been blown, up, away, and down by the devastation that circumnavigated this planet. Still five-hundred meters out from the first ring of standing buildings emerged the first set of defenders, the quadruplet of Rifleman BattleMechs. Perfect as long range line-of-sight fighters, the enemy ‘Mechs began to chew and boil away our armor with heavy projectiles and lasers, though my assault class BattleMech weathered what they threw, for now. The trouble was getting into the city; a pair of Rifleman ‘Mechs blocked each gap in the mangled and nigh impassible crustacean of architecture which encircled the Pasteur Township. I took the easy way out.

“See you on the other side Castle.”

I felt my spine compress as I endured many g-forces of thrust as my Templar rocketed upwards and forwards on its pillars of mercury fueled fires. Vaulting over the first row of buildings I found myself alone, no longer in a kill zone but now in a desolate town, a game of cat and mouse soon to begin—I just wasn’t sure who was the cat. I knew an Atlas stalked these streets along with other less nefarious machines and coming up against that behemoth or a pair of any other ‘Mech fielded against us would surely test my piloting skills and the durability of my own battle machine. Though it had seemed I had abandoned my comrade’s fight, I was merely here to open the door for them.

Though seismic, radar, and their natural sensors surely would have detected me coming, I found the first pair of Rifleman ‘Mechs intently focused on the oncoming lance of Legionnaires. Running past, my torso twisted and I did what I did best: shoot. With the recital perfectly centered on the rear of the left Rifleman from my perspective, I fired a precision shot from my heavy bore autocannon, the slugs tearing through the ‘Mech’s thin rear armor and passing through the fragile gyroscope. The rotating cylinder splintered, shards of metal from inside the ‘Mech becoming projectiles in and of themselves. Without slowing, my reticule passed over the second Rifleman, and it too found its rear quarters annihilated, but the PPC, while highly destructive, lacked the penetrating power of the autocannon and so failed to carry its destruction beyond the armor. As I ran past, I guided my torso's angle just so and six jetties of flame erupted from my ‘Mech, each tipped with stored fire. But the Rifleman was already turning and so the missiles struck its right shoulder and arm—not an inconsequential hit, but not the final blow I had hoped for. I too began to turn back, towards the Rifleman when my battle computer bleeped out a warning which I knew was overdue: power-up, twenty-five meters distant.


This post has been edited by Captain Garrett Garland: Jun 20 2007, 02:11 PM


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Position : Captain | LEGIONNAIRES
Callsign : Fox
Current BattleMech : Shadow Hawk [55 tons] [97.2 km/h max] [120 meter jump range]
Loadout : [1x Rotary AC5] [1x LRM-20] [1x Medium Pulse Laser] [2x Streak SRM-2] [AMS] [CASE] [ECM] [JumpJets]
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Bounty Hunter: Sam Grisham
post Jun 20 2007, 03:04 PM
Post #45



Bounty Hunter
Rank: MechWarrior



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Group: LEGIONNAIRES
Posts: 44
Joined: 2-January 06
Member No.: 34





"I'll bet you my next pension check that at least one - if not both - of us is on their 'immediate detention' list - and I'll further wager that it's me." Charles whispered into my ear. I tugged gently at my tie and collar, releasing the built up pressure around my neck.

“I’ve factored that into the equation…” I muttered back.

“Well what do we do?”

“We cant do anything until someone interferes.” I spoke out loud as I reached into my top breast pocket, removing my slim sun glasses. I wide grin spread across my face as Maxwell’s expression became puzzled.

“IF or when it does… just follow my lead.” I reassured him.

I began to realise why Maxwell was so worried. Other than the failure of our task, Maxwell had made many enemies over the years. Saxon was an extremely powerful one. Being throw in a cell was probably the least of his worries. It was important that I could keep him reassured and to not assume the worst.

“Glad to be home?” I asked him as we took our first steps into the space port. Charles remained silent and vigilant, trying his best to be inconspicuous. The space port was as busy as a beehive - people desperately scrambled to board their flight in time as attendants worked diligently to keep everything on schedule.

Charles and I (along with the other passengers), were herded towards first (and last) control point for arriving passengers.

‘Please have your documents ready’ read the sign above our heads. I reached into my pocket and produced the forged documents that Charles’ contacts had created. To look at them, you wouldn’t know any different. Aside from the name changes, I would have mistaken my forged document for my legitimate one.

I looked over my shoulder to see a rather anxious Maxwell. He removed his thick rimmed glasses and rubbed at the angry red marks they left on the bridge of his nose.

“Just remember… go with the flow.” I muttered, fully aware of the problems we could face. Charles replaced the glasses on his face and nodded slightly - though uneasily.

“Documents, please sir.” the young, brunette lady with the tight complexion asked.

“Certainly…” I said, as I passed our identification cards. The young lady ran the magnetic strip through the reader and our faces appeared on her monitor.

“So… Mr Tarrant and Mr Gibson… you’re travelling together?” She asked suspiciously.

“Yes - we’re here on business.” Charles replied. The young lady typed away at her keyboard and waited until the information had finished processing. The palms of my hands became thick with sweat as we anxiously waited for the red light on the card reader to change to green.

“This is taking longer than expected…” I thought as I rapped my fingers on the table top.

“How long will this take?” I pestered. “We have an important meeting in two hours time and we--”

“All done Mr Tarrant. Have a pleasant stay in Gellen’s Heights!” She replied cheerfully as she removed our cards from green lit card reader.

“Success…” I thought excitedly.

“Great - we’ll be on our way…” I said as I collected our belongings.

No sooner had we taken five steps away from the desk, a loud, notable voice called from behind.

“That’s about as far as you go Mr Grisham!” I knew the voice all too well. “That goes for you too Mr Maxwell…”

Charles and I stopped dead in our feet.

“I’m Chief Irons - Head of GHPD’s immigration and detention branch…” The tall, blonde headed man said as he produced his badge. His thick moustache did little to cover his wide, smirking smile.

Moments later, Charles and I were bathed in the flashes of light bulbs as various freelance reporters took pictures of us. We had generated a small audience that whispered and muttered questionably as they watched us being hauled into an unmarked, window tinted vehicle.

“Mind your head boys…” Irons chuckled as he helped Maxwell and I into the back of the hover car. “… don’t forget to smile for those front page photos!”

The door slammed behind us as we shuffled ourselves into our seats. It was hard to get comfortable with our hands cuffed behind our backs.

“Go with the flow… FAN-tastic!” Charles muttered. Irons sat up front and had his driver take us around the block.

“There’s one thing I need to ask you Maxwell…”

“What could that possibly be?” He muttered, rolling his eyes.

“How much is your pension check worth?”

“What's that supposed to mean?” Charles raised an eyebrow. I reached around to the ’release’ switch on the side of my cuffs and quickly released myself. The elder Maxwell stared in disbelief.

“If you want to undo yours, there’s a switch on the left cuff. Push it up and pull yourself free.” Irons said as he looked over his shoulder from the front seat.

Charles immediately did so with an inquisitive look about him.

“Didn’t I tell you I had factored this into the equation?” I smiled.

“Terry Irons…” Irons’ extended his hand backwards. “… pleased to meet you Mr Maxwell.”

Charles took his hand and shook it, still with that same puzzled look about him.

“Terry and I go way back. He used to be a con artist… well, he still is - just on a smaller scale. I called in a favour and set this up before any of Saxon’s men could make a move.”

Maxwell looked astonished.

“There’s certainly more than meets the eye when it comes to you Grisham…”
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