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> REBOOT: Operation I: Broken Arrow, Theatre of Operations: Saffel, Draconis Combine
Celina Santos
post Nov 21 2009, 12:51 AM
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I stood on my ladder looking at the main view screen in disbelief. I was supposed to be repairing a length of overhead conduit, but I couldn't focus on the work at hand. I could only stare blankly at the images the camera was feeding to us. Nick Schuster had just massacred everybody on an entire recharging station with a couple of clicks of a mouse, and he didn't seem bothered a lick about it. I suppose being a mechwarrior he had gotten used to the practice of wiping folks out, sure, anyone who is in the business of warfare, especially mercenaries, have to develop a sort of detachment, but still, the absolutely disconnected way Schuster reacted was kind of disturbing. I was glad I was a techie and not a front liner. I don't know that I could ever get used to it. Fortunately the only thing I had to keep on life support was our ragged equipment...

This post has been edited by Celina Santos: Nov 21 2009, 12:54 AM
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Commodore Benjamin Maxwell
post Nov 21 2009, 03:32 AM
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"Remind me never to get on your bad side," I muttered as I watched the now-unmanned Saffel Recharging Station float listlessly through the cosmos. Schuster had pulled off such a complete and thorough takedown of the installation's computer systems that not even an automated distress beacon sounded from the facility. The only communications traffic which now blared from the Thorin's monitoring speakers came from the JumpShip and its attached vessels, as well as several other craft in the vicinity, as they, with more than a moderate amount of confusion, now attempted to comprehend the totality of what had just occurred.

"It's only a matter of time before someone calls for help," I deadpanned, looking toward Sergeant Hobson. "I recommend we use this opportunity to take our leave of the Arrow."

"Aye, Captain," Hobson replied. "Signaling our intention to disembark."

A few short moments later, the Thorin gave a lurch as the Arrow's docking clamps disengaged. Momentary weightlessness ensued as Hobson maneuvered the Thorin away from its berth, before again applying forward thrust and imparting a gentle roll to the DropShip's trajectory. As gravity returned, I glanced around the command deck.

"Alright, people. Use the next five days to your advantage. When we hit Saffel, there will be very little time for any last-minute dallying around."


--------------------
Position: Senior Captain | Legionnaires
Current BattleMech: WHF-3B White Flame (Lothos) [Heavy - Quad]
Loadout: 1x Large Pulse Laser, 1x Medium Pulse Laser, 2x ER Medium Lasers, 1x Anti-Missile System, Jump Jets
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Dash Rendar
post Nov 21 2009, 05:42 AM
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I couldn’t not believe what I had just saw. It was terrrible......the crazy dishonor that Shuster had displayed by blasting everyone on the space station out into the stars was completely anti-honorable. I grabbed a trash can that was standing nearby and gagged into it, trying also not to void my bowels as the strain from the throw-upping caused me to bear down automatically.Fortunately I was able to keep my rectum sealed with minimal leakage, which is good because in zero gravity floating liquids can short out panels. Then I ran off the bridge for my quarters to meditate the horror off my mind by doing some kobudo.
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Lieutenant Commander Marcus Braddock
post Nov 21 2009, 07:17 AM
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I’d thrown myself past a bewildered Gray out into the corridor, pushing myself faster and faster in the strange lope elicited by the lessened gravity.
It had taken me less than a minute, shoving aside crew and vaulting over obstacles, to reach the bridge.

Breathtaking is another of those words, y’know? It can scale from impossible beauty to the basest horror. I was confronted with something closer to the latter.
I flew into the room, prepared for almost anything bar what actually confronted me. I barely had time to register that Schuster was interfacing frantically with the computer before he hissed out
“Done,” and all eyes turned to the main display. I was bristling, having been expecting a combat situation or worse. But not this. My jaw slackened while the rest of my body tensed, uncontrolled.

The lights scattered throughout the huge recharging station flickered and died almost as one, the pattern to their shutdown almost imperceptible. I gazed on, as of yet unable to comprehend the magnitude of what I was witnessing.
Then the life support and pressurization gave out.
Through several major and a dozen minor outlets the lifeblood of the station flowered out in great, tinged white clouds, freezing almost immediately into listless, serene showers of crystal. Small gouts of debris and unsecured materiel rushed out with it, their movement comparatively gentle against the deluge of breathing gases. This sudden outpouring, seemingly bursting from its’ seams, marred the stations rotation and left it coasting. Helpless. Adrift. Without life.

My mind and mouth seemed to catch up with the unfolding situation right on time with the rest of the bridge crew. Commodore Maxwell looked between Schuster and the viewscreen in momentary incomprehension.

“Mister Schuster!” He barked. “What the devil?”
There was a pause while Corporal Schuster composed himself and met the Commodores' gaze. He was looking only at Maxwell, but his words rang out across the bridge for all to hear - including me.
“The Station won’t be a problem anymore.”

I stopped paying attention to events on the bridge then.
I was far away, envisioning bodies with their life sucked from them, scrabbling for air that evaded their clumsy fingers and made its’ ephemeral escape. I was feeling the cold. That all-encompassing chill of pure emptiness that finally stills and stiffens reaching arms, gagging mouths. Hard vacuum.


“Blake’s blood! What in hell have you done, man!”
I could scarcely believe I had control of my body again. It didn’t feel like mine. I took a step towards him, but realised he wasn’t paying attention to me or what I was saying. All eyes were still on him, the Commodore, or the station, in its silent and subtle death throes.
He was a maniac. A full-blooded psychopath.
My thinking can get a little skewed when I’m focussed too much. I can lose sight of, or entirely miss, the larger picture. But that didn’t change the fact that this man Schuster, who I might have called a friend, had just murdered a station full of unsuspecting and unaware people.
I took another, heavier step across the bridge towards him, but was stopped short by a pair of hands clamping down on both my shoulders from behind.
So someone was listening to me.

“Ease down, Lieutenant.” Captain Wolf muttered to me, his voice thick with implied command. “We’ll sort out what happened soon enough. First we need to survive the mom-“
I attempted to shrug him off, bucking my shoulders and wrenching my torso again and again. He tightened his grip and began to pull me towards the exit.
“I know what’s happened! Schuster’s’ gone completely off th-“
“That’s enough, Talus. Stand down!”
Although he was still only talking loud enough for me to hear, my military reflex caught my tongue and halted my body.
With the brief reprieve, Wolf yanked me by the shoulders he still gripped, with vice-like hands, out into the corridor.


Another post planned for later, during the transit to the planet. Although it's not entirely necessary, if everyone wants to move ahead to planetfall. Kudos on the posting so far everyone! Makes for good reading.

This post has been edited by Lieutenant Commander Marcus Braddock: Nov 21 2009, 08:43 AM


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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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Captain Adam Wolf
post Nov 21 2009, 12:52 PM
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I breathed a sigh of relief as the lights on the station began to wink out, just a few barely noticeable interior lights at first but then in extremely rapid fashion all the lights of the station went out. It was clear from this side, having known that Schuster was trying to crash or disable their system, what was going on, though for the people on the station, or those in the jump ship they were probably baffled as to why the station would suddenly go dark. That gentle exhale of breath was quickly drawn back in through a muffled gasp as the explosive decompression plumed out from a docking bay in horrifyingly beautiful shower of crystalized oxygen and nitrogen.

At first I thought, I hoped, that it had just been the bay itself that decompressed, as the computer system shutdown it was concievable that a malfunction caused the airlock to cycle or the bay doors to unseal, but the plume of crystal expanded, only visible now through the bright running lights of the Arrow and the two searchlights which they had now trained on the station. Since the failure of the stabilization system had caused the thrusters to create and erratic wobble in its rotation, combined with the force of the decompression, caused the station itself to block out most of the sunlight on this side. The expanding plume lent itself to the idea that it was more than just the docking bay that decompressed however, though there should still be sections of the station that were sealed off regardless of system failures or not, I hoped there would be at least.

There was a general silence that had fallen across the entire bridge, despite the exchange between Schuster and Maxwell, as well as a few other members of the bridge voicing various concerns or statements, there was still a silence that hung in the air.

Among the general concern, as people began to recover from their initial shock, I noticed Leftenant Braddock had begun moving slowly towards the Corporal. A quick notice of his posture and the tone of his voice, which I now easily isolated from the general commotion that was beginning to break out among the bridge crew, indicated that he wasn't thinking clearly, or perhaps he was thinking too clearly, but either way it wouldn't do any good to let him get any closer to the Corporal. We had enough of a situation on our hands already with Schuster's actions, we didnt need a confrontation between Legionnaire members right now.

Two quick strides brought within arms reach of Talus and I gently, but firmly clamped my hands onto his shoulders, stopping his forward momentum.


"Ease down Leftenant," I said in a low somewhat gruff voice, keeping it below a volume that anyone more than a few feet away would hear, "We'll sort out what happened soon enough. First we need to survive the mom-"

"I know what happened! Schuster's gone completely off th-" Braddock interupted me as he tried to shake my hands free. Tightening my grip down his shoulders I began to pull him back towards the exit, a slight extra tug cutting his sentence short momentarily.

Before he could finish though I broke into a slightly louder, but still low enough to keep it just between us, and more forceful voice,
"That's enough, Talus. Stand down!"

Thankfully his military training seemed to have taken over, at least for the time being, as he fell silent and willingly, or at least without any further resistance, exited the bridge with me into the adjoining hallway, my hands still locked on his shoulders.

As the door to the bridge closed I turned to face him, having released his shoulders but still standing between the bridge door itself and the Leftenant.
"I know we need to find out exactly what Schuster did, and if he actually intended it to happen. But right now we need to make the best of the situation at hand, which means we need to avoid any, ... complications." I paused slightly as I searched for the right word and hoped that the Leftenant didnt make anything of it, I had a habit of trying to chose words carefully in somewhat delicate situations.

"I'm not saying that I agree with the Corporal, far from it if it indeeds turns out to be the worse case scenario as it appears. But I do understand that it may have been necessary, to some degree, and so for now any repercussions will have to be placed on hold until we are safely on our way to Saffel. In the mean time Talus, would you care to accompany me to Cargo Pod 4? I believe there's some interesting equipment we might be able to pass a little time with."

"Yes, sir."

The short, formal answer, clearly indicated to me that while the Leftenant was going to accompany me, his mind still was focused on Corporal Schuster, probably trying to figure out what exactly he had done, and more importantly, why.

As we made our way through the corridors the automated ship systems voice announced we were detaching from the jump ship and would be underway momentarily. A slight moment of zero-G followed shortly thereafter, quickly replaced by the light gravity induced from Sergeant Hobson lazy barrel roll along the ship's primary axis. Stopping for a breif moment at a nearby comm panel I buzzed the bridge, getting one of the bridge crew members.


Please let the Commodore know that I will be in Cargo Pod 4 should he be looking for me.

Aye, sir.

With that out of the way Talus and I continued on our way to Cargo Pod 4, with me having every intention of busying myself getting my recently arrived BattleMaster ready for combat. As to what Talus may have in mind once we reached the cargo area I wasnt sure, but at least the walk here itself should have given a moment to clear his thoughts.


--------------------
Position: Captain | Legionnaires
Callsign : Gunman
Current BattleMech : BattleMaster BLR-WL1 (Moradin) [85 tonnes Heavy]
Loadout : LB-10X AC, AC/5, ATM-3, 3x ER Medium Laser, 3x ER Small Laser (rear), Hardened Armour
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Lance Callahan
post Nov 21 2009, 06:31 PM
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I wasn't sure where everyone had run off to. Ever since my rather... unfortunate episode at the start of the trip... I had fallen unconscious and sent to the sickbay. The most embarrassing thing I could have done by any means. Well, regardless, ever since then I'd either been in my room or grabbing a meager bite. Food stores on the DropShip weren't particularly tasteful, but they were comparable with the waste restaurants of New Earth served. In fact, they might have been one in the same. One of those meals seemed to bear this strange resemblance to one of my least favorite but forced common meals. And heck, I swear I'd seen that dispenser at the StarPort before we left.

I shook my head. My mind was raveling this way and that, I was nervous. I needed to calm down, keep my focus. Slow down.... slow down. A gulp of air came in, a gulp of air went out. My heartbeat slowed. Another gasp left me, this time one of relief.

My eyes turned down to a messy piles of papers. I had begun taking notes, going over each piece of the mission and tearing it apart in utter detail. It helped keep my nerves away, and served to help the mission. Plus, the more I could learn about how all of this worked, the more quickly I could be out there on my own. It was just a matter of understanding, putting puzzles together. For hours at a time I would do nothing but close my eyes and imagine myself in a 'Mech, running through list after list and scenario after scenario. The power of imagination is incredible. Certainly by the next mission could I be a true member of this organization. So I hoped.

Back to business. Pen in hand, I began scribbling. Several papers were taped together in a makeshift poster. Along its 'x' and 'y' axes ran measurements, and in the center was a self-made grid of the planet. From the Intel I was able to gather, the map was as confidently made as I could have done. If all went to plan, we'd be in and out in less than a day.

I swiveled to another ad hoc poster. It bore a penned drawing of Thorn's 'Mech, a Marauder. The weapon lists I had created for it were unfinished, and that was my next step. Pulling out one of the reference books I had gathered for the journey, I began to jot down all the important points.
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Commodore Benjamin Maxwell
post Nov 21 2009, 11:00 PM
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Five days later...

In orbit of Saffel
April 27, 3067

______________________________________

With catlike stealth and precision, a small, gunmetal-gray DropShip slipped unobtrusively into low planetary orbit . Rapidly dropping altitude as it approached the southern continent, the dropship dwindled from sight, growing smaller and smaller until it vanished into the clouds.

______________________________________

"All MechWarriors: prepare for hot-drop. We are beginning our descent."

I stepped off the ladder which led down into the dark, expansive confines of my White Flame, dropping my gear bag, and pulling the hatch closed, which sealed with a dull 'thunk,' muffling the sound of the alarm klaxons that were blaring through Cargo Bay 2 as the Thorin tore through Saffel's upper atmosphere.

As darkness enshrouded the BattleMech's cockpit, the auxiliary lighting flickered on, bathing my surroundings in a dull red. I shrugged my jacket and shirt off, and slipped into the ribbed cooling vest that would afford me a thin layer of protection from the extreme cockpit temperatures that overheating 'Mechs were notorious for achieving during prolonged combat. Stowing my gear in the White Flame's locker, I unhooked the neurohelmet from its stand and slipped it onto my head, pulling the visor down over my eyes as I eased into the pilot's chair and connected the cables which would facilitate the direct interface between my brain and the steel giant.

As the chair adjusted itself to my body, I felt a cool rush as ashqua coolant flowed across the feeder tubes and into my vest. Leaning back in the chair, I began the ignition sequence that would bring the White Flame to life. Toggling the ignition switches, I felt a surge of power as the BattleMech's gyro spun up and the fusion reactor roared to life. A mosaic of red, white, yellow, and green lights sprung to life across the White Flame's instrument panel, and the heads up display flickered into existence on the inside of my neurohelmet. The computer ran through its pre-launch checklist, vocalizing each step of the process as it ran a myriad of diagnostics and itemized user-programmed settings.

"Reactor - online. Sensors - online. Weapons systems - online. All functioning systems: nominal. Group fire engaged. Light amplification engaged. Anti-missile system engaged. Radar set to passive."

A soft chirp from the computer prompted voiceprint identification.


"Security check, Commodore Benjamin Maxwell," I murmured. There was a brief pause as the computer matched my voiceprint to the one stored deep within its memory core.

"Confirmed," came the reply, in a soft feminine voice which belayed the awesome power of the Battlemech. "Proceed with security sequence."

"And never forget that help may come
From the most unlikely of quarters
And success rest upon the shoulders
Of those kept shadowed until the time of need."


The passage came from The Rememberance, and functioned as the key to unlocking the full capabilities of the war machine.


"Identity verified. All systems now at your command," the computer responded. The White Flame swayed gently as my natural sense of equilibrium, transmitted to the BattleMech through contacts in my neurohelmet, took over from the autopilot system, and its sweeping consoles flared to life. I tightened my harness, and murmered a few final platitudes to myself as Sergeant Hobson's voice cut across the comms.

The moment of truth had arrived.


--------------------
Position: Senior Captain | Legionnaires
Current BattleMech: WHF-3B White Flame (Lothos) [Heavy - Quad]
Loadout: 1x Large Pulse Laser, 1x Medium Pulse Laser, 2x ER Medium Lasers, 1x Anti-Missile System, Jump Jets
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MechWarrior Alex Thorn
post Nov 21 2009, 11:25 PM
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"All MechWarriors: prepare for hot-drop. We are beginning our descent."

It was finally time for us to embark on our mission. I quickly went to my room and grabbed Lance. Fortunately he had already prepared his gear and his rifle. As much as I cared for his safety I had told him he needed to keep his clothes to a degree that would keep him cool. Even with the advancements of my Clan 'Mech I would still have heat buildup in the cockpit.

Soon we made our way into the 'Mech bay where my Marauder was waiting. I went up first, opening the latch and throwing my bag inside. Then I helped Lance crawl in. I then sat in my command chair, and started the sequence that would give me control of the 'Mech while Lance situated himself in the spare chair in the back of the cockpit. Once I had gained full control of the machine I opened a Comm both to Commodore Maxwell and Schuster.


"This is...."
Realizing I didnt have a callsign I stopped for a moment then continued, "Thorn. I am ready to drop sirs. What callsign do you want me to use?"

A swift reply came.
"How 'bout 'Wolf' quiaff?" The reply had come from Maxwell.

"Aff." I smiled at the heritage the Commodore was allowing me to keep.


--------------------
Position : Mechwarrior
Callsign :
Current BattleMech : Marauder IIC (Wolf's Teeth) [Assault]
Loadout: 3x ER PPC, 2x Medium Pulse Laser, 4x ER Small Laser
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Sergeant Hobson
post Nov 22 2009, 12:55 AM
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As the first rays of the morning sun began to stream from below the horizon, a sliver of silver-grey lanced out from above the clouds. Rapidly increasing in size and velocity, its arrival heralded by twin sonic booms, the shape raced toward the treeline, eventually coming into form as a sleek aerodyne DropShip which screamed past just above the tops of the tropical overgrowth, tearing leaves and branches from their trunks in its wake, and sending a multitude of native avian life scattering toward the skies. Intense blue-white cones of fire exploded from the DropShip's engine ports as it ripped toward its waypoints, and the 1,600-ton vessel showed no signs of slowing as the doors to its cargo bays folded open, and the mercenary unit's BattleMechs were positioned for their drops, suspended above the racing landscape by drop cranes which held fast to the waist-mounted jump pods of the steel goliaths.

_______________________________________

I white-knuckled the Thorin's control sticks as atmospheric turbulence jostled the spacecraft with all the force and unpredictability of a wheeled vehicle traversing a pothole-ridden street. The thumps, bucks, and rumbles we were experiencing were merely variations in air density, crosswinds, and pressure variations, but at the speed at which were were traveling, the impacts felt like a thousand gauss rounds smashing into our hull. It was all I could do to keep the vessel on a straight and narrow trajectory, particularly with the rattle of loose equipment and the bangs and creaks of an aerodyne well past its prime ringing in my ears, serving as a grim reminder that there was a very good chance we weren't going to make it out of this one alive.

A loud, repetitive ping, coupled with the whooping of a proximity alarm, sounded across the bridge, notifying the flight crew that we were coming up on the first drop site. As the view on the main screen transitioned from dense jungle to a relatively sparse clearing, a computer-generated overlay splashed across the image, laying a grid across an approaching area of clear ground, marked in its center by an animated, rotating crosshair. The first deployment zone was coming up.


"Thorin to Hammer Detachment," I began, toggling a switch on the flight control panel which opened a channel to the three teams of BattleMechs standing by for deployment, "we are one kilometer out from your deployment zone. Be advised, we will be dropping you three-point-eight clicks out from the capital city of Iwanji. Gunman and Talus: advise ready status."

There came a brief delay, followed by the crackle of a comm transmission.

"Gunman, ready op," Captain Wolf replied, his voice sounding tinny and filtered through the bridge speakers. As he spoke, the damage readout and lifesign monitor feeds from his BattleMech winked into existence on the main display, showing a camera feed from within his cockpit, as well as graphs representing his heartbeat, respiration, and the vital signs of the war machine charged with his protection. The graphic shrunk in size and flashed to the upper left-hand corner of the display as Talus reported in, the second MechWarrior's tracker appearing in large form before it, too, relocated to a position just below Gunman's.

"Roger that - Thorin copies Hammer Detachment ready op. MechWarriors, prepare for hot drop. We are coming up on target."

The pinging of the approach indicator grew louder and more rapid, until it morphed into what could best be described as a 'missile lock' tone. Quickly, I throttled the Thorin down to half speed, and reached for the toggles that controlled the drop cranes in Cargo Bay 4. The LED indicators inset into the panel glowed red, then cycled to yellow, and then, at length, flashed to green. I took a deep breath, hesitating for a moment, before slapping my hand down on both switches simultaneously. A low 'bang' rumbled through the hull as the drop cranes released their payloads, and the Thorin lurched slightly as nearly three hundred tons of man and machine were offloaded into the jungle below.

This post has been edited by Sergeant Hobson: Nov 22 2009, 12:56 AM


--------------------
Recipient of the Order of Katherine Steiner medal for distinguished performance in combat.
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Dash Rendar
post Nov 22 2009, 01:50 AM
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I threw up on the inside of the winsheild of the tank me and Clenia Santos were sitting in waiting to deploy. I had barfed because of the distence I saw we were going to be dumped out of the ship that was going about 600 MPH and all we had to keep us from etting pancaked was the parachuites on the deployment pallette. So I grabbed a napkin and wiped the puke off and sat at the steering wheel looking at trees go by and birds getting smashed on thee front of the dropship that were too stupid to get out of the way. Then I looked over at Calina Samtos.

"Hey youre looking pretty hot tonight, are you free for a date in the motor pool when we get back? I have a 2545 mustang with invisible armor we can go drag racing with." I asked. But before she could give me an answer back I heard Captain Ginman on the radio. [color=green]"Gogogogogogogogogogogog!!! Its time for the war to start!! I honked the hoorn a bunch of times to tell them we were ready to go.

This post has been edited by Wang Hui Dung: Nov 22 2009, 01:52 AM
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Lieutenant Commander Marcus Braddock
post Nov 22 2009, 02:14 AM
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Five days earlier...

The Saffel Jump-Point
April 22, 3067

______________________________________


The lights were the first thing to go. Then the pressure.
The heavy-duty halogen operational lights mounted on the Battlemechs’ upper torso sparked and burst, the cone of light they had been cutting into the thin, airless atmosphere immediately snuffed. The Gauss-round, its’ vivid contrails still visible as a bleary after-image on my retinas, had damaged some critical superstructure, or severed something volatile. Spasms of shuddering cracks wracked their way up to the cockpit, their violent sound muted by the intervening vacuum.
What wasn’t muted was its’ pilot screaming in my comms as the cockpit imploded with the sudden, catastrophic pressure shift. The cries were short lived, but I know Bandit lived for a few more prolonged moments of pure and total agony as he drew breaths that never yielded and the frigid chill of nothingness smothered his feeble struggles. Beyond the help of any of us.


My eyes had only been closed a moment. A blink.
I hefted the ratchet quickly, placing and tightening the last bolt before stepping back to check the overall fit. The main access panel to the eighty-five tonners’ reactor looked to be smoothly in place. I double-checked all the bolts were secure and then negotiated a turn in a cramped confines of the ‘Mech to face the cockpit where Captain Wolf sat.

‘Gunman,’ the Captain, had pulled me from the madness on the bridge, and with firm but not-harsh commands had me helping him give his newly acquired Battlemaster a precursory once-over.
I was inwardly thankful to the man, for thinking clearly for me when I’d nearly lost the plot. I mean, I hadn’t reached an internal crisis-point like that since Ramirez and the frantic weeks afterwards. Being that out of my depth had shocked me into another, baser form of being. Panicked and dysfunctional. This had been similar, for all too many reasons, except this time the instincts were outrage and horror.
Captain Wolf had yanked me out of that, and with this bodily distraction had given my mind time to synthesise everything into a workable state. I understood now the context of the situation, and how it had come about. I could follow the concept of it being us-or-them, and comprehend the urgency with which our unit had to complete this contract. I was, after all, no stranger to mercenary work.
I didn’t agree with it, or with him, but I would work through it.
The unit would come first. As it had before.

I spoke to the Captain, interrupting the command diagnostic he was running on the main bank.

“Everything looks in order down there sir, at least superficially. Do you want to try firing her up?”
He glanced up at me, and I caught a momentary searching concern in the set of his eyebrows, before an aptly wolfish grin spread across his face. It was infectious. I felt myself smiling broadly back at him.
“Damn right I do, Lieutenant. Damn right I do. Hold steady.”
He punched in a long primary ignition code into the reactor status bank, and the fluctuating hum of auxiliary systems whirred into existence almost immediately. Beneath our feet, a deep hum began to build up as the reactor prepared to begin fusing. Adam clapped his hands with unconcealed glee.
“One fine machine, Talus. One fine machine. Now let’s go get a look at that Saviour recovery vehicle. I hear the techs were having a few problems with the pneumatics.”

______________________________________

Five days later...

In orbit of Saffel
April 27, 3067

______________________________________


With a noticeable change in pitch, the Catapults’ older reactor began fusing, the heavy thrum reverberating around the interior of the cockpit in a passable imitation of life.
She didn’t sound like Proteus. Of course, no other ‘Mech did. They didn’t speak to me, like she had. Like I said, probably a sign of madness, but she was damn comforting.
This machine (some pilot or another in the legionnaires’ history had dubbed it ‘Jackal’), was a good thirty tons lighter than Proteus, and handled to match. I was okay with that, having piloted ‘Mechs of similar tonnage back with the PDF. But make no mistake; I just didn’t connect with other machines like I had with her in my tenure with the StarRiders. I never stayed with one for long.
I paused halfway through pulling a pilots’ jumpsuit, complete with coolant lines, over my bare torso.
Perhaps it was time to change that. If I found the right ‘Mech I’m sure I could easily fall right back into the groove - but until then I couldn’t I at least try to make this a place to be at ease?
I gazed at my old pilots’ jacket that I’d stowed in the locker, and the three stars blazing across the back.

“I’ll tell you what,” I murmured to the deck below me, imagining the ageing ‘Mech could hear me. “We make it through this ruckus okay, and I’ll stick with you a while longer.”
I reached for my neurohelmet as the voice of Sergeant Hobson crackled to life on the shipwide frequency.
“All MechWarriors: Prepare for hot-drop. We are beginning our descent.”

_____________________________________

I held my breath as the Catapult swayed with the Thorins’ movement, above the jungle canopy that streaked by below.
Gunman’s ‘Mech was harnessed similarly by the drop-cranes to my right, and I flashed him the thumbs-up through my ferroglass canopy in case he was looking my way.
Any second now...


Drop’s one of those words, y’know? It can be something as simple as fumbling your keys, or a-

The crane snapped open its' harness and my sixty-five ton mass immediately dropped out of the open bay like a gigantic cannonball, all howling speed and blurring metal.
This wasn’t the highest I’d ever dropped from, but damn it was exhilarating all the same.
The juddering, blurring view stretched seemingly to the edge of this world, flattening and planing out as I rapidly closed with the stretch of clear ground designated as our DZ.
The drop pack kicked in, the sudden resistance eliciting a mighty jerk that rattled me senseless for a moment. My ludicrous rate of descent slowed gradually at first, and then with more conviction until I was falling at a velocity the ‘Mechs powerful leg actuators could compensate for.
Impact. Another thunderous concussive force shuddered up the frame of the Catapult, as its’ legs bent and flexed to absorb the massive shock. It straightened quickly and made a few half-steps for balance, in accordance with my still adjusting senses. A several-metre high dustcloud rolled away in all directions.

Captain Wolf’s identifier symbol flashed in my HUD, announcing the incoming comms being bounced along a tight-band laser.

“Hammer lead to Hammer two. I’ve landed five-hundred metres to your south. Drop status?”
Sure enough, my sensor display bank registered a big green blip away to my left. I keyed in my own tight-beam comms rig and replied.
“Copy that Gunman, I have you on my display. I’m fine here.”
“Good to hear, Talus - Let’s get to it. Communicate only via tight-band laser, and refrain from broadwaving the other detachments unless necessary. Take up position one-point-five kilometres to my left and we’ll begin our search pattern North-by-Northwest. Go to active scanning.”
“Acknowledged sir. On my way.”
The sensor display expanded by a few orders of magnitude and began relaying detailed representations of the surrounding jungle terrain. The only marked contact was still Wolf’s Battlemaster, which had began to trudge its’ way towards our waypoint. I pushed the throttle and Jackal eased forward, digitigrade legs beginning a loping walk at about 50 klick. I aimed for the spot far out on the Captains’ flank and geared my mind up for the coming hunt.

[Soundtrack - Search Pattern (Jungle Hunt)]


Rawr, fear the giant post! As an aside, that soundtrack link is perfectly safe, I uploaded the single music file myself, although admittedly it's not a great way of getting it out there. Oh well, enjoy!

This post has been edited by Lieutenant Commander Marcus Braddock: Nov 22 2009, 07:08 AM


--------------------
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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Captain Garrett Garland
post Nov 22 2009, 03:52 AM
Post #27



Captain | LEGIONNAIRES
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Posts: 453
Joined: 16-December 05
From: Seattle, WA
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As always I was impressed with the scale of machines we worked with. My Battlemech's cockpit rattled from a gust of wind as Hammer lance deployed, my own 'mech now next in line for a drop. It took only seconds to cross over the city though we were too far up for me to make out any detail aside from the buildings. I felt like I could already smell the planet though I had checked to make sure my Shadow Hawk's seals were in place. Smell was always a funny thing I thought; even when something was airtight it seemed like it could seep in. Every world smelled different and we were about to make it smell of smoke, cordite, and metal vapor.

Three short beeps.
A long one.


"Anvil away." I spoke over the comm.

I stepped my Battlemech over the ledge, falling feet first towards the ground. Like a paratrooper from days of old I pulled my chute at the prescribed altitude. Then, as the ground neared, the chute flew away and my 'mech descended the last few hundred meters on columns of steam and smoke: the output of my jumpjets bringing me to almost zero velocity as I made my first footsteps on Saffel.

"Anvil on the ground."


--------------------
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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Sergeant Hobson
post Nov 22 2009, 04:18 AM
Post #28



LEGIONNAIRES | DropShip Commander
Rank: Sergeant



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Joined: 18-December 05
Member No.: 12





In the blink of an eye, Anvil Detachment was away, following closely on the heels of Hammer as their war machines exited Cargo Bays 1 and 3. That left Rogue Detachment still embarked in Cargo Bay 2, as well as a tank, a recovery vehicle, a flatbed, and a squad of Battle Armor still aboard. The nav indicator for our landing site was coming up quickly, and I was just starting to breathe easy, when the Thorin gave a tremendous lurch, an ear-spliting explosion resounding through the hull. Alarm klaxons sounded off across the ship, control panels overloaded, and the primary lighting flickered wildly.

"Bridge - what the hell was that?" Commodore Maxwell exclaimed, broadcasting on the comms from the cockpit of his 'Mech as he awaited touchdown.

"I don't know, sir!" I exclaimed. "If I had to make an educated guess, I'd have to say that what you felt was the impact of a shoulder-mounted LRM launcher, and it hit its mark quite well. We're down to 50% efficiency on our thrust output. If we don't land soon and get to work making repairs, we're in trouble."


--------------------
Recipient of the Order of Katherine Steiner medal for distinguished performance in combat.
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Captain Garrett Garland
post Nov 22 2009, 05:55 AM
Post #29



Captain | LEGIONNAIRES
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From: Seattle, WA
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What the hell?

As soon as I landed lights on my board began flashing and I saw my anti-missile system come to life but my sensors were completely without contacts. I heard the little machine mounted on my battlemech's shoulder wake from its standby lull and prepare to issue forth tiny shards of metal but I saw no incoming missiles or even a flock of birds. I had read reports in fact that birds had trigged AMS before, providing a lance or two with some excellent albeit finely piecemealed poultry. But there were no little black dots in the sky and the AMS...

A black jet of smoke flew past my cockpit window, high and from right to left. The AMS spun up to fire but whatever flew past was gone long before the first round was able to escape its tiny barrel. I turned my 'mech to follow the trail, and horrifically saw its destination. I turned just in time to engage the missile with my AMS and it sputtered forth a staccato of low-caliber high velocity rounds. The burst lasted but a tenth of a second as the missile was then out of range and seemingly unimpeded by my anti-missile system's attempt at saving the DropShip. The missile impacted with the Thorin raining armor upon the landscape and causing smoke to billow from her engines. She began to lose altitude but seemed to briefly defy gravity as her engines momentarily gave a burst of power before their output halved. The comms were oddly silent and I wasn't sure if the crew were too stunned aboard to announce their situation or if they had been rendered ineffective.

I turned my 55-ton war-machine towards the origin of the smoke trail, my rotary autocannon's barrels cycling with intention to birth hot depleted uranium. But the trail's origin was far away and the wind had already blown the smoke southwards so I couldn't be sure from where the missile had come. I considered unleashing a torrent of firepower on the most likely building's roof and upper floor, but I couldn't bring myself to do it; there could be civilians, and I knew exactly what horrors a battlemech would inflict upon them.


This post has been edited by Captain Garrett Garland: Nov 22 2009, 06:24 AM


--------------------
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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MechWarrior Kazuki Kintaro
post Nov 22 2009, 02:40 PM
Post #30



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Member No.: 49





The red hue of the standby lights flickered into life, filling the cockpit of my Stinger. The rocking and clattering sounds of the Thorin seemed far too distant right now and became near silence as I began to reflect on the past few days.

The atmosphere on the ship was dismal, and I had found myself in a strange position. Corporal Schuster's actions had divided many. Some viewed it as mass murder. Others viewed it as unfortunate but necessary. I on the other hand, had a different view.

The Inner Sphere was a mysterious place. It had a habit of repeating itself. Wars come and go. Love is lost and found. Friendships and alliances are forged and soon forgotten. Revenge always rears it's ugly head. All of this repeats itself eventually. Especially revenge.

Schuster's actions have been seen and done before. Was it necessary to complete our mission to prevent another war? Perhaps, but one thing was for certain. Revenge would rear it's ugly head eventually. At least one person affiliated with that station would hunger for it. The seeds of bitterness will once again be sown and the flowers of revenge bloom, repeating the cycle. That's the way it had always been. Always has, always will. Whether or not a person succeeds in his or her revenge is a different matter in it's own. You had to be a true, cold blooded avenger to exact your revenge.

I knew this all too well, because I was an avenger, still seeking revenge after twelve long years. But it didn't bare thought for now...

How did Schuster's actions sit with me? It was regrettable that so many had to die for the sake of our mission, but we were preventing war here. It wasn't my place to outright label the Corporal, because far worse things had happen to far better people. Nick Schuster would have to live with his actions for the rest of his life and that was all there was to it.

I would have been lost in thought for an eternity, thinking over the moral fibres of every action that had ever been carried out, had it not been the the sudden and violent jarring of the ship. I snapped back into focus and flipped my comms open.

“Bridge – what the hell was that?”

"I don't know sir!" Hobson explained. "If I had to make an educated guess, I'd have to say that what you felt was the impact of a shoulder-mounted LRM launcher, and it hit its mark quite well. We're down to 50% efficiency on our thrust output. If we don't land soon and get to work making repairs, we're in trouble."

This didn't bode well...

My hands tightened around the controls of my mech. We had to be ready for anything.



--------------------
Position: Mechwarrior | Legionnaires
Callsign: Sabre
Current BattleMech: STG-6L Stinger
Loadout: 2x Medium Lasers, Jump Jets
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