• Starpath: Scoundrels of the Interstellar Highway - Thread 2
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Dwan wasn't sure what to think of all this nanite talk - while he may recall their usage back on the Archius, especially by Viper and Lion (the latter being quite the proponent), he couldn't recall if he personally had ever used them, or if they had been used on him, whether it be in a sanitized setting or on the field of battle. Remembering that Varn had issues with his nanites as a result of his genetic quirks, he began wondering if he himself would even be able to use these special nanites, or be affected by hostile ones. He was a corpus alienum, for all intents and purposes. But he has been subject to this universe, and has handled "medically" on both the Archius and the battlefield. If anything, he has had exposure, adapted, which may leave him vulnerable. He may as well partake in the nanites, just to be on the safe side. Whether they worked properly or not didn't really matter, since if they didn't work neither would any hypothetical hostile nanites. Side-effects did worry him though, but the topic of the MID caused that train of thought to fade. He just sat there, helmet in hands, listening.
April 2nd, 2385 Now that my burns have healed and I've repaired the machine, I have nothing left to do except wait for landing on Gibel. Whatever Mordecai has been planning, I can sense it coming to a climax. Many people are about to die, and I've played a vital role in ensuring it will happen. I have no doubt he'll call on me again, and I will be placed exactly where I want to be placed. It feels good. But I'm not done, not by a long shot. I hope they catch up with us. I hope Argos can put up a fight. I want that chance to face them again, and steal every last drop of hope from their hearts, and blood from their veins. I want them to die screaming. What comes next doesn't matter. I hope it's more of the same. -ß --- https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z1ndFL1v34E Gibel The third Archive was placed on the ground in the middle of the large chamber, flanked by its two twins. The Death Vigil had been the last of the three factions involved to get its hands on one of the mysterious devices, but whatever advantages Argos and Belladonna had gained by striking early and even forming an alliance had all been for naught, it seemed. Mordecai looked down on his spoils, down on his commanders, with a triumphant smile that lasted the duration of a blink of the eye, before he descended the steps to their level. He had all of the pieces and, apparently, all of the best leaders to carry out his plan. While an encouraging sign, the battle hadn't yet been won, and there was still several orders of business to be taken care of before they departed for Starvis. He looked at the wretched kanad in his employ, the one who had been so useful as of late, finishing off her double, returning with valuable intelligence on Starvis, and personally retrieving the final key to unlocking the dome which would herald the dawning of a new age. And here she stood, staring up at him with those hollow, violet eyes, waiting for her next assignment, her next opportunity to exceed his expectations. Now was the time to recognize her talents with a final promotion, before the end. Mordecai, Archangel, Nathaniel... and Beta. The Four Horsemen. There was little to be said, and no fanfare. There was no audience assembled to hail the elite unit's assembly. There was work to be done. --- Athens The appearance of the metropolitan moon was entirely different than the last time the Belladonna Company visited it. Far from looking Utopian, the city radiated a somber intensity; the war with the Vigil had been ongoing for many weeks now, with no apparent end in sight for most of Yscom. Only Argos and the select elite fighters of the Muramasa were aware of the decisive battle, due to begin in less than a day. For that reason, they departed from the transport with nearly-panicked urgency, scrambling to gather their last-minute enhancements and provisions before being deployed. Red could sense that they still weren't comfortable with the idea of Dr. Sadowski's nanites, but he insisted they go along, and was backed by Neasha. Eve's question, which was eventually answered, was that the nanites' anti-infection software's source code would be provided to allow her to compile a version for her purposes, if she felt it would be helpful. The group sprinted into an awaiting shuttle bus which took them directly to a nondescript white building in the middle of a grassy plaza. A ring around the fifth floor allowed for immediate disembarking, and with the flash of a badge, Red bypassed security to funnel the entire group into the lobby within. There, far from their actual workspace, was a group of researchers, nurses, and a tall, thin man in a long lab coat, black tie, and round glasses. He had a hook nose and long curtains of greasy hair which already contained a hint of silver, and his lips were curled into an arrogant smirk. "Well, Red, looks like you need me after all," he said loudly. "I thought you had Starvis all under control and that this was none of my business." Red did his best to appear diplomatic despite the obvious pressure of the situation. "Dr. Sadowski, I'm more than willing to say that I was wrong, you know that. We don't have time to re-litigate the whole argument." "We have a deal, Red. I want you to remember that when all of this is over, unless we're all dead. In that case, consider it a complimentary 'we destroyed the galaxy' bonus prize." Dr. Sadowski looked at the group and adjusted his glasses. "Which one of you is Captain Caine?" he asked. Taylor identified herself. "You're first," Dr. Sadowski said, stepping aside and revealing a small cart with a neat stack of injection penlets. "Step forward so we can demonstrate the safety of the product to your crew."
Taylor did as instructed, stepping forwards. If this was what was needed to protect them from Starvis' influence, then so be it. She could shrug off her dislike of body altering machinery for the time being. Though her face didn't exactly match her feelings on the matter, as she still bore a frown and furled brow.
As Taylor approached, Dr. Sadowski picked one of the penlets off the counter and seized her by the wrist with his other hand, turning her arm over rather roughly. "Pull up your sleeve; let's make this quick," he muttered. The captain exposed a portion of her arm by unzipping and peeling back a small portion of the close-fitting body suit she was currently wearing to provide the doctor access to her major blood vessels. After hesitating for only a moment to decide which vein to push the needle into, he did so, quickly jabbing it in and clicking the button on the top of the penlet. "One, two, three..." he counted quietly before pulling the needle out and putting the penlet between his teeth, snatching a small tool from his hip and using it to apply a small amount of gel to the nicked vessel to stop it from bleeding. He took the penlet from his mouth and tossed it into a bin on the table nearby. "Done. Next!" he announced. Taylor backed away and rubbed at the spot uneasily before zipping the sleeve tight again. If she had expected to feel something, she now found that nothing interesting had happened at all. Just as Red had explained before, the new nanites were pretty similar to the old ones, at least in their dormant state. The other members of the crew soon formed into a line, taking their shots just as the doctor directed them to, his bedside manner never improving throughout. "Hurry up," he snapped at Karl as the hunter stepped forward. "If you think I'm being pushy, just wait until you see the expediency of whatever's living inside that planet," he grumbled, referring to Starvis. "We could have been working on this ages ago..." he hissed under his breath, but he stuck another penlet in his mouth before he could finish the thought. Without asking any questions, it seemed to the crew somewhat likely that the doctor's attitude was fueled by some kind of resentment over Argos's handling of the Starvis affair, as if Sadowski had been shut out somehow. Some were more anxious than others to get their injection, but when all was said and done, nothing had happened and Red seemed eager to move them along to the next stop. "See you later," Dr. Sadowski said. "Or maybe not. But if I do, you can thank me then." --- Not very long afterwards, the crew was brought to another landing pad, far from the one where they had landed not even an hour earlier in the transport. As they rode the elevator to the deck, they paused their idle conversation and gawked at the craft awaiting them. Sitting before them was a ship unlike anything they had ever seen before- a heavily-armored transport ship with with a trench directly down the center. From their position near the nose of the vessel, they could see down the length of the trench, and on either side, there were dozens of pods, each with its own canopy window. Under the glass of each pod was a pocket mech, larger than the Velkratkammik and better armed, and yet much smaller than what was normally employed on the battlefield. "...This is the pinnacle," Red told them. "It's the first of its kind in our inventory: a carrier exclusively for orbital and atmospheric mech operations. Those suits inside are all brand new, too. They've been in development for the last five years, trying to get the jump on the competition. Now you're going to have the chance to take them on a test run." Arkadam looked at them all with a mix of astonishment and skepticism. "You're going to hand them over to us, rather than some elite team of pilots?" Red shrugged. "We have plenty of pilots who would handle them better in space, but they aren't prepared to do the job we're asking of you. We can forgive some beginner's jitters if it means you've got some advantages at the critical moment." A door opened on the side of the craft, allowing the party to enter the perfectly clean corridors within. It was all very sleek and modern, almost stylish within, as the whole vehicle gave off the impression of a prestige project. "This is the Diamond Cutlass. This is what we're sending you into battle in." Behind the group, the door slid closed quietly as the dull hum of engines kicked in. Before the crew had gotten the chance to ask anything else, before they even knew the name of the captain controlling the vessel, it was already taking off for its rendezvous with the Argos fleet near Starvis. "We have less than twelve hours before we reach the fleet. I recommend getting to know your mechs now." There was a strange flicker of light, and out of the shimmering air appeared a hologram of a young woman in an ornate mask. "Hello," it said, addressing the group. A few murmured an uncomfortable hello in response. "My name is Fractal, and I am here to help you prepare for the coming operation. Thank you for joining us." There was an odd ghostliness about her voice and mannerisms that immediately rubbed the crew the wrong way. It had the uncannyness of a computer pretending to be human, the last thing anyone wanted to see right now aside from the Vultures. "Please enter the mechanized battle suit of your choice immediately, and the simulation will begin. Or... if you wish to take a break, I may direct you to services aboard the ship at any time."
After the entire ordeal with Dr. Sadowski and the nanites Karl remained silent. Once the team arrived at the Diamond Cutlass he felt skeptical. "I guess the age of fancy gadgets truly is over, huh," he muttered to himself after stepping onboard. Iron on the other hand showed a positive attitude. "Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine that I would end up being a mechpilot." The bounty hunter chuckled. "Better savor it while it lasts."
Taylor was sort of neutral on the topic of the mechs. She had operated a few before, but she wasn't anywhere close to a decent pilot. She honestly wished Valk were here. She was a damn pro when it came to this stuff, and would probably be already inside firing one up. Or taking it apart to see how it worked. She picked one out, then stepped over and climbed into the pilots seat. Better run these sims to death. Otherwise, they'd be screwed out in the field. Eve would probably have a better time, considering she could simply...connect to the mech and operate it better than any organic here.
As the crew were brought to another landing pad, Dwan reflected on his injection - it had gone relatively smoothly, not feeling that anxious as he had nothing to lose putting those nanites in, but as he was receiving it, it looked to him that Dr. Sadowski hesitated for a moment longer with him in comparison to the rest, and he wondered whether his professional eyes were good enough to spot the feint vascular system his body has for his internal thauma. Before he could give it more thought however, he joined in the gawking of the transport ship before them. With Red explaining, Dwan looked at the mechs in a sense of befuddlement. Sure, he had used a mech once or twice personally (and also built them, but he'd rather not think about that), but he wondered whether these machines will give them the edge against all the opponents they'll be facing, since it was clear that they weren't going to be fighting mere mooks, especially considering Beta. He clenched his hand into a fist, as the door on the craft opened. He crossed his arms as he listened to Fractal - to the others it appeared as if he had already seen something like this before. He'd have to also get in with these sims if he wanted to do something with it, but a question lingered, and he asked it aloud; "Fractal, if I may ask," he began in a formal manner, "what is the durability of these battle suits? Because if I'm able to throw a strong enough punch to dent one of these babies, then I don't know how useful they may be against our incoming battle," he asked bluntly, with some looking at him wide-eyed due to the implications of his statement.
Fractal paused for a moment as if to process the question. Then, looking slightly sideways at Dwan, she replied "the exact operational limits of the Series II MBS are classified. However, if it will ease your conscience, it is exceedingly doubtful that you will be able to dent the armor plating yourself. More will be explained within the simulation." Already, Taylor was stepping up to the machines in the long corridor, which wrapped around the inner trench of the ship in a large U-shape. Others walked along in a state of minor apprehension at being asked to do something most of them had never attempted. She stepped through the round hatch and found herself standing directly behind the machine, which was secured at five points and hooked into an elaborate umbilical system to the mother ship while it sat in its dormant state. The exterior was painted matte silver with red pin striping, and a serial number on the back revealed that it was one of the first two-dozen production models to roll off the assembly line. Its hunched form provided a nice, stable platform to step up and into, and once Taylor had inserted her feet into the appropriate grooves, a brace rotated into place behind her legs. "Lean forward and assume pilot position," a calm but dutiful voice directed. She did so, placing her hands on a twin set of flight sticks and putting her weight on the padded interior, and the machine shifted and lifted her legs in response so that she was resting on her stomach and looking out through a small round window in the front of the armor. It was fairly comfortable, but difficult to see out of. "Initializing... Creating pilot profile..." said the voice. A light scanned through the dark cockpit before a holographic screen extended from either side, merging seamlessly with the window to produce a wide, clear view of the vehicle's exterior. A heads up display was projected along with the surroundings, and Taylor's identity was confirmed and displayed on the screen. "Assigning tactical leader role... Initialization complete. Flight training mode is in effect. Begin simulation?" Taylor searched for some sort of button to confirm her desire to begin, until the screen displayed directions on how to issue vocal commands to the built-in personal assistant. Once she had replied in the affirmative, an aperture closed over the window and the holographic display was extended to complete the view in front of her. The view to the outside was blanked out, and a computer-generated world was assembled in its place. Taylor sighed as the basic control tutorials were spoken to her. It seemed almost surreal how quickly things were progressing, and for a moment she thought back on the battle on that unnamed planet and became infuriated at the fact that a few minute's difference, or slightly better planning on Argos's part, could have prevented this mess entirely. As soon as the machine allowed her full control, she began completing the tutorial's objectives rather aggressively. First, an object needed marking and targeting. Then it needed destroying. Next, a hostile enemy was placed along with tactical cover, floating in space. The challenge after that one involved mobile enemies, but also friendly mechs flying in formation. Taylor was forced to learn how to issue commands to the unit without taking her eyes off the target and her own flight path. It was difficult, and a bit overwhelming. But after an hour or so, the machine cleared her to participate in group trials. Among the crew, Eve and Arkadam cleared first, long before anyone else. The rest trickled in as they finished their basic tutorials, and Taylor, having had to take extra lessons in command, had been one of the last to finish. But then, a strange thing began to happen. The crew was divided into a red team and a blue team, led by Taylor and Iron, respectively, and placed on opposite sides of an arena. Stiff tension gradually gave way to active participation, and as the "kills" mounted in successive rounds, trash talk and excitement took hold. It was very much like a video game, and before anyone had realized it, several hours had gone by. The simulation still judged their performance as sub-par when compared to Argos's own pilots, but they had improved significantly before the end of the first round of training. The took a short break to eat and use the Diamond Cutlass's bathing facilities before returning for the second and final round of training. It was the same routine of tutorial followed by trials followed by team vs. team combat, except this time, the battle was based on the ground. The simulated world resembled Starvis, with its barren, dusty landscape dotted with the shipwrecks and abandoned UGC camps from the battle a few years prior. The ground-based opponents were more numerous and far more difficult to clear out, and the mechs felt very sluggish compared to their nimble performance in space. That was, however, until the crew discovered one by one the ability to perform a rocket-assisted leap, easily vaulting over opponents and obstacles and negating cover. By the time of the team combat simulation, battles had become a shootout in the air between two jumping fleas. After eight long hours, the final simulations came to an end, leaving the crew exhausted. The battle would likely commence within four or five hours, and no one felt like sleeping. Dr. Sadowski contacted the ship to perform a quick check-up on the crew, and when he found them tired and weary after their crash course training, he ordered a drug to be issued to revitalize them for another day, a literal "shot in the arm" per say. A round of drinks was called up as well to toast the crew. It was reminiscent of the last sendoff of the suicide pilots of World War II. Nobody felt like participating and yet everyone did, in a surreal act of camaraderie that transcended the overwhelming fear of what was to come. Off to the side, Neasha sat with her head in her hands. It suddenly occurred to Taylor that the company's boss hadn't been involved in the group trials. Apparently, she hadn't been able to clear the basic tutorials. Dwan, meanwhile, had recalled several direct hits his mech had taken from rocket projectiles. It was safe to say he was better off using it.
Ira placed her helmet on the table as the drinks were sent out. She grabbed a glass and sighed deeply. The simulations had been intense. She'd taken more hits than she liked which stung her ego a bit. Once the drinks had been passed around Ira raised hers into the air. "Cheers. For the ones who didn't make it. For renegades. For us." Karl simply nodded and raised his drink. He too was exhasted. Mech combat was not his cup of tea but at the very least he'd survive. Hopefully.
To say the simulations were enlightening for Dwan would be an understatement. When he recalled the two or so times he had previously used a mech, neither had a control scheme akin to the ones used here, nor did they shift the seating - for the stout being, the position he was in was kinda awkward, but it did adjust gradually (at least he thought so) and he got used to it. While he did what was asked of him, he'd take the opportunity (permitted or not) to test the durability of his mech in simulated practice. He'd take several direct hits, from everything up to rocket projectiles, just to ensure he'd have an understanding of how well the suit takes damage. It was quite clear he'd need the suit, and he never really doubted that he didn't need it. He just worried about Beta and whatever she may have up her sleeve. By the end of the simulations, Dwan felt something akin to what he felt back on the Archius - comradery, something he had missed since those tragic times two years prior. The trash talk (which he didn't really partake in), the sense of excitement radiating from everyone, it all reconfirmed this view of making sure that no one died under his watch, as now his guilt would be even greater. He was ready for mech combat, and willing to fight for these people, this universe, to undo the mistakes he had allowed to persist. Dvajn requested that he be given a non-alcoholic drink, as he was still a taste-testing-only teetotaller at the end. As he recalled the events of the simulations, he looked over to Ira and raised his glass in cheers.
Taylor toasted Ira and the others before downing her drink. Once she finished, she handed her glass off and walked over to where Neasha was sitting. She sat down next to her, glancing over. She honestly didn't know what to tell Neasha. She knew that she wanted to go with them, but she wouldn't last long considering she couldn't even complete the tutorials. "...Boss, nobody would think differently about you if you choose to hang back. Let us do the fighting. We'll deal with Beta, Archangel, and any others that they throw at us. And Starvis itself if we have to. I'll make damn sure of it." said Taylor. She had opted to just speak what was on her mind.
"...I don't get it," Neasha said. "I can pilot a corvette better than anyone here, except maybe Eve. I've been under fire on a dozen planets and I've never fully lost my nerve before. I don't know what's wrong with me." The serek lifted her head, running her clawed hands through her golden mane as she surveyed the team again, a cloudiness in her eyes. Taylor glanced over at the others as well, and got a sense that she knew exactly what was bothering Neasha. They had known it all along, that this mission wasn't just another hurdle to overcome, another obstacle standing between them and destiny. It was destiny. And every moment the clock crept closer to the hour, thoughts about what would come next seemed to settle themselves, fading into the background. It was coming to the point that there was no longer escape, not even a dishonorable one. Eventually, death would catch up to all of them, should they fail. And so when Neasha took the controls, she locked up. She could bear the load of her life and livelihood on her shoulders. She could even carry the company, if need be. But the galaxy was too much of a burden. She had reached her limit, and all she had left to do was to sit back and watch as the Muramasa crew, intended from the very beginning to be better than the ones who paid for its formation, took the lead, forged the spearhead, and slayed the beast. "There's only one thing that really bothers me," she muttered, a numbness carrying on her voice. She pointed to Arkadam. "He qualified as easily as the robot; they must have downloaded the mech's profile right into his implant. I flew Yanim-fucking-Terika around this galaxy for two years and she didn't bother learning how to pilot the godsdamned ship. All those times she let me fly us into danger, she probably could have done just as good of a job, if not better, if only she bothered. But she didn't... Maybe she was scared, maybe she didn't want to put her life in her own hands any more than she did mine. I'll never really know the real reason why, but it doesn't really matter; she always had faith in me. And I have faith in you. I'm glad to have been a part of this." She stood and took a shot from the drink tray. She held it out and smiled, a bit late. "To the Muramasa." --- https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aMBBjcyXt4o The Diamond Cutlass dropped out of warp with a shutter around four hours after the simulation ended, ahead of schedule. The Muramasa Crew rushed the windows to overlook the scene- the nearest cluster of ships belonged to Argos, painted in company livery. Beyond them were the hundreds, no, thousands of Yscom ships which had come out to support the pivotal battle. The sleek and modern designs made the kanad Black Fleet look rusty by comparison, and the massive rail guns and glittering starfighter hangar bays on the exposed edges of seemingly every ship gave the whole carnival a darkly comedic twist, like seeing the grim reaper in a sequined outfit. Far out in the distance, a dull gray planet was little more than a crescent. Starvis looked peaceful in this light, and completely innocuous. Argos's soldiers let out a rally cry when they saw the size of their allied forces, waking the few Belladonna operatives who had managed to doze off despite the overwhelming tension. Red cut his way through the small crowd of his own men to update the team on the shape of the battle. "We have the advantage in deployment!" he began, cheerfully. "Our long-range scanners aren't picking up the Vigil's ships in any direction, but our deep warp field arrays are picking up a heavy distortion along that vector-" he pointed at a particular set of stars in the window, "meaning that they'll be here within the next half hour. Our staff is redirecting the formation to adopt a defensive footing as we close in on the planet, but we're going to get the drop on them first by sending out the starfighters. We're going to hold you in reserve, and keep the Cutlass positioned right over the pole with a full escort. If they break through or manage to find a way around us, you'll scramble on my order and attack anything that gets too close. We'll detonate anything that looks like it's carrying an Archive, but you'll need to get in close to confirm for us, or preferably, to recover one or more of the damned things before they can be used. Understood?" Most of the group responded in the affirmative. Taylor and Ira would be the designated commanders, despite Arkadam's rank, but that didn't seem to bother him. Sting was a bit sauced up, having had more than a few "toasts" in preparation for the last big adventure, and Dwan was as focused as ever on protecting what mattered to him. Red saluted them all. "I'm going to be personally monitoring your flight and reporting back to Red and the fleet staff," Neasha added. "If you need help from the fleet, I'll be the one on your comm channel. I've also been provided recovery override access- if any of you falls unconscious during your flight and we can't rouse you using the nanites, then I'll remote-pilot your mech back to the Diamond Cutlass. I've assured Red that the simulation means nothing to me." Red nodded. "That's right. You're in good hands. This was about as good of a start as we could have asked for, but now the devil is in the details. Let's get out there and win this thing." The team rallied, and over the next half hour, they watched the gray crescent in the window grow larger and more defined, its surface pock-marked with craters and debris from the war two years prior. The lights in the Cutlass changed from white to amber as voices echoed through the halls, announcing changes in battlefield conditions and the status of the fleet. They waited, sucking down air through clinched teeth, waiting for the moment they'd be called into action. But it didn't come just yet. First, they reached their destination, where the black shadow of the planet below softened into a charcoal gray that they could read. A circular depression awaited them directly under the vessel. A barely-visible platform at the center was the target for the Vigil's three keys. And then they arrived. Popping out of the starry sky with hundreds, and then thousands of flashes of light, the dark parade of Vigil ships filled the endless horizon. The lights within the Cutlass went red as the power to the shields was raised, and the crew was ordered into ready positions. They arranged themselves hurriedly around the central trench, climbing into their mechs and waiting for the signal to deploy. On the far side of the field, hundreds of starfighters whipped past the arriving ships with a punish barrage of missile strikes which tested the limits of the enemy's shields just before the long-range guns began to thunder (if they could in the vacuum of space), creating a shimmering light show of rage in the heavens. The Vigil's own interceptors gave chase, and the bombers behind them as the battleships lurched forward into the battle undaunted by the Yscom opposition. There's a warp field distortion directly above us! They're going to try to sneak in past us, get ready to deploy! The voice belonged to Neasha, now echoing inside the pilot compartments of the mech suits as they entered their power-up procedures. Sweating, gritting their teeth, sick to their stomachs with anticipation, the Muramasa crew gripped their flight sticks as the compression seals cleared their final checks and the airlock hatches closed shut behind them. Air began to vent out of the compartments, leaving the lives of the crew in the hands of the machines as the pressure disappeared along with the noises of battle within the vessel. Then, the doors opened, and an automatic launch procedure pushed each of the armored suits into the central trench, slowing to a stop within inches of each other before rocketing upwards in a diverging formation. The male voice from the simulation calmly counted down the seconds before control was surrendered to the crew, to the maximum extent that it could be, given their inexperience. Flight aids were in full effect for all except for Arkadam and Eve, who streaked further and faster ahead until ordered back into formation. The enemy's arrival is imminent, shields up and check for high-speed targets! Then, much closer than anticipated, the first frigate exited warp and barreled in their direction. Taylor and Iron split the formation and circled around, watching in the corner of their vision as the Diamond Cutlass roared out of the way to avoid a collision. Two fighter wings comprised of drones tumbled out of the frigate before the ship slowed and diverted, taking a direct hit from an escort destroyer and exploding into tumbling shrapnel. Two more frigates exited in quick succession, each deploying another wing of drones apiece before meeting the same fate, swarming the crew with three dozen unmanned craft to contend with. Dispatch them as quickly as possible and break off chase if starfighters or landing craft arrive; it's probably a diversion and we can mop them up ourselves! The targets were all highlighted in the crew's HUDs for easy reference, and they watched as the tight groupings of drones flew gracefully in wide circles, turning occasionally to let off a sporadic burst of fire in the crew's direction. Allied starfighters came up from below, a total of a dozen in all, to provide additional cover fire. They marked their targets and committed to the attack, knowing, perhaps grimly, perhaps excitedly, that this was only the opening of the final showdown!
Ira gritted her teeth and gripped the mech controls harder than before. "Iron here. Sting and Dwan, form up on me. Alex, let it rain." With that said Iron maxed out his mech and advanced. Using the frigate debris as cover he eventually targeted a small group of drones. He squeezed the triggers on the two sticks and yelled into comms; "Fire! Fire! Fire!" ------ Karl opted for a more defensive play and formed up on Taylor. "I got your six, Cap." He spotted a drone to his right and engaged it with a missile.
"I got your six, Cap." "Roger. Everyone else, pick your targets. Pick off stragglers with standard automatic fire. Nail 'em with a missile when they group up. Try not to get swarmed, and use the debris from the frigates as cover." said Taylor. Swarming groups of drones could prove fatal, especially if they single out one of them. She darted for a large chunk of debris, targetting a group of three incoming drones and firing off a missile towards the middle one. -------- Eve followed after Taylor, bouncing between cover as she tried to single out a target. Being linked directly into the mech allowed for faster target assessment as well as faster reaction times. Perfect for the current situation. She noticed a cluster of five drones darting around what was left of a frigate engine, and locked onto the lead drone. A moment later, a missile was unleashed and sent darting towards it.
And with that, the fughetta started. As soon as he gained control of his mech, Dvajn very gently, pianissimo, moved his mech, with his grip on the controls being among the hardest of the entire crew. Hearing Iron's order, he responded with a roger, and quickly, velocissimo, formed up on her. He got behind a nearby piece of debris, and fired at any drones approaching their position.
Sting, mildly intoxicated, did not know how to react when the control of the mech was handed over to her. Due to sting being smaller than a human she had managed to smuggle a small music player into the mech. This might have been discouraged if anybody had noticed it, but now it was too late. Definitely over the D.U.I limit, sting could sparsely focus as the hud lit up with with all kinds of markings. Fortunately she remembered her training enough that she could distinguish between enemy and ally markings. As a cracked psych rock guitar solo blared from the music player and echoed in her cockpit, Sting hummed along with a slightly slurred but still energetic voice as she began unloading her arsenal upon the incoming drone fighters.
Alex had gotten the idea of how the operate the mech after the training. It was just like wearing a big bulky suit of armor. Nothing too hard. As the battlefield unfolded in front of him, he quickly got his shit together. Moving from cover to cover, he picked his targets and let loose.
((Mech Combat Rules: While in space, each player character and NPC can receive up to 5 strikes of DMG above 10 before landing, while drones and starfighters can receive only 3 before being destroyed. DEF will not be taken into account at this stage. Attacks which fail to pass the threshold of 10 DMG will be absorbed by shields, and attacks scoring above 20 will do two strikes, and so on. Attacks which are CH based can not cause more than one strike. Being forced to land on Starvis will initiate a CH Roll of 1/3 to determine whether your mech remains operational. If not, the character must continue on foot, reducing mobility and limiting other options. Upon discarding a mech, the character within will emerge with full health.)) As in the simulation, Taylor and Iron split the group into two formations. Iron took point with Sting and Dvajn, chasing the enemy aggressively while Alex hung further back to protect them from being caught in an ambush. Taylor, meanwhile, grouped with Karl and Eve and focused on a more conservative approach involving as much of the floating debris for cover as possible. As they rocketed into battle, the drones seemed to react to their entry with more attentiveness than before, as if their earlier probing attacks had revealed some important understanding of the threat posed by the small mechs. Or, perhaps, they were only waiting to identify the apparent flight leader of the Argos wings before attacking. Whatever the reason, the trio of drone wings diverged, so that Taylor and Iron's wings were attacked by nine drones each, and the allied Yscom fighters were attacked by the final group, ensuring that the whole defensive position was preoccupied at once. Forging ahead with blistering speed, Iron closed in on a large piece of debris, using it as cover during the approach but having no intent to stop, and watched as the targets in his HUD magnified tremendously. At the last moment he peeled away in an attempt to strafe the enemy with fire, but the drones were surging ahead in the opposite direction and the two overran each other. Unable to get a lock, Iron hammered on the control sticks to initiate a hard, drifting turn to wind up behind the drones before activating the machine guns. "Fire, fire fire!" he yelled. Iron: {2, 4, 4} x 2.25(No Feat Applicable) = {4.5... 5, 9, 9} No Damage. A spray of plasma blasts raked through their grouping, splashing against the drones' shields but ultimately failing to pierce through. They quickly formed into a ring before looping around in a sort of umbrella shape before zeroing in on Iron's position. Drones 1-1 through 1-9: {9, 9, 7, 8, 3, 10, 5, 7, 4} x (No Feat Applicable) = {9, 9, 7, 8, 3, 10, 5, 7, 4} 1 Strike. Iron: 4/5 Strikes remaining. Despite the massive barrage brought on by the nine drones, Iron found his mech enduring the onslaught admirably. Now, with the enemy's attention turned away, Dvajn and Sting closed in, the former taking a direct path while the latter spun in loose, unpredictable barrel rolls. Despite this, Sting arrived first as Dvajn slowed to a stop behind the same piece of debris that Iron had previously used. Above and over his right shoulder, Alex took up position as well, while Sting blasted through the center, guns blazing to come to the rescue of Iron, who had the entire wing on his tail. Sting: {2, 6, 3} x 2.25 x (No Feat Applicable) = {4.5... 5, 13.5... 14, 6.75... 7} 1 Strike. Drone 1-1: 2/3 Strikes remaining. Again, plasma pounded the shields of several of the enemy drones, but this time, there was a sudden flash of bluish flame which signified a direct hit! The drones performed another 3-dimensional maneuver, but apparently unable to track Sting's trajectory, they instead separated into three trios and wound their way around the outside. Dvajn and Alex then ambushed them as they came within sight. Dvajn: {3, 7, 8} x 1.5 x (No Feat Applicable) = {4.5... 5, 10.5... 11, 12} 2 Strikes. Drone 1-4: 2/3 Strikes remaining. Drone 1-5: 2/3 Strikes remaining. Alex: {8, 6, 1} x (No Feat Applicable) = {8, 6, 1} No Damage. The two men attacked simultaneously with plasma as the enemy looped for their next pass, lighting up the void of space with a veritable light show as they chased the enemy drones. Dvajn, despite his uncomfortable flight position, was still a more accurate shot than Alex, who was more of a melee-focused fighter. Briefly, the latter even considered simply closing in and suplexing the enemy himself, rather than trusting the cannons on his armor. --- Meanwhile, in roughly the opposite direction, Taylor and her squad were far more conservative in their approach, attempting to close in on the enemy without significantly exposing themselves. They hopped from cover to cover, watching the lights dancing in their helmet for any sign of a serious attack from the enemy, but the drones in the second wing merely flew in a spherical cluster like swarming bees. Following their Captain's lead, Eve and Karl held off on attacking until they were at very close range, and the drones would have trouble picking up speed to put distance between themselves, perfect for missile targeting. Taylor was first, following immediately by Eve, in delivering the first punches, as rockets flew from pods on the mechs' chests. Taylor: CH: 2/5 Actual: {5, 1, 4} 2 Strikes. Drone 2-1: 2/3 Strikes remaining. Drone 2-3: 2/3 Strikes remaining. Eve: CH: 2/5 Actual: {5, 1, 2, 2, 1} 1 Strike. Drone 2-4: 2/3 Strikes remaining. As soon as the rockets took off toward their targets, the swarm began to scatter. Luckily, Talyor's missile exploded perfectly between two of the enemy drones, and a ring of shrapnel managed to pierce the EM shields surrounding their sleek bodies and tear into the components within. Eve's rocket detonated in a less-concentrated position, as she had targeted too many of the enemy at once. The drones poured out toward their position, breaking into three trios that wound around each other in interlinked helices. As they cleared the barriers of frigate debris, Karl ambushed them just as Alex and Dvajn were doing on the opposite end of the battlefield. His rocket streaked toward one of the three trios before exploding right in front of it. Karl: CH: 2/5 Actual: {3, 2, 3} No Damage. The ring of shrapnel, trailed by smoke and embers which quickly fizzled out in space, somehow managed to miss the three drones as it expanded, the pieces disappearing into the void harmlessly. Unable to stop them, the three comrades were set upon by the enemy drones. Drones 2-1 through 2-3: {10, 3, 5} x (Conviction) = {20, 3, 10} 3 Strikes. Taylor: 2/5 Strikes remaining. Taylor could feel the impacts of the plasma blasts against her EM shields, but without any of the pain. At first, she thought she had escaped unscathed until she realized that a large patch of her armor was smoking from a series of direct impacts. She gritted her teeth and recommitted to the attack, hoping that she would get more lucky during future exchanges. Drones 2-4 through 2-6: {2, 5, 1} x (Conviction) = {4, 5, 1} No Damage. Drones 2-7 through 2-9: {4, 2, 7} No Damage. Eve and Karl, on the other hand, were very lucky in that the few blasts they took were intercepted by their shields, preventing their mechs from taking any serious damage from the assault. They, too, steeled themselves for the next attack as they decided on their next course of action. The drones, meanwhile, regrouped for another pass. --- Neasha watched through the window as the crew struggled against the drones, silently worrying about whether they were sustaining too much damage early on from easy opponents. She paused, her finger hovering over the comm switch, unsure of how to be helpful, since simply telling them not to get hit would be useless. Instead, she took a different approach. "Hang in there, Muramasa. You can do this." Red stepped up to the same window, projecting another layer onto the holographic display so that Neasha could see the general shape of the battle. "They're not pushing as hard as we expected them to," he said, calmly, but with a certain intensity, as if something was troubling him. "They must have a force in reserve that hasn't hit us yet. But if that were the case, now would probably be the best time to use it, right over the pole where your crew is patrolling." "There's no spacial distortions?" Neasha asked. Red shook his head. "It's all calm up north. I'm think they're about to make this fight a lot dirtier." "How so?" "We still haven't seen their capital ship, and we're certain that there's more in terms of dreadnoughts at their disposal... If I had to guess, I'd say they're planning to attack somewhere else, but that's just stupid. They're risking their whole fleet here." Neasha looked at him strangely. "How protected is the home front?" Red shifted uneasily. "Argos can defend itself, that's not even a question. But I don't know how the rest of Yscom has deployed its defenses." "Red," Neasha said, rather fiercely, "what are the chances, if Athens is attacked by surprise, that Yscom will divert forces away from this battle?" "It depends on whether their defenses hold," Red replied, grimly. "...And if they don't?"
"Alright this isn't working. Time for some improvising." Alex moved his mech from cover to cover."Dvajn, cover me!" When he got close to one of the drones to grabbed it, he reached out and pulled the thing for a closeline and knocking it down. After that he would pull out it's core.
After having taken his shots at the drones, Dvajn looked towards Iron; "Ira, you alright there?!" he said with a worried tone, before another worrisome thing occurred - what Alex was about to do. He quickly looked towards Alex, who was approaching one of the remaining drones to grab it; "Alright, just don't get yourself killed like in training!" Dvajn said in a worried but slightly cheeky fashion, as he began covering the mad man.
It looked as though most of the luck had gone to Ira. Taylor couldn't take too many more hits like that. She grunted, and took aim at a few more of the drones. Once she was locked onto a small cluster, she let loose another missile. _ _ _ _ Eve corrected her aim, locking onto slightly less targets than she had previously. Once she had confirmed a lock on three, she fired off yet another missile.
"Shit!" The volley fire from the drones struck Iron hard. Despite the amount of projectiles the mech remained mostly intact to its operant's surprise. With Alex and Dvajn taking the lead Iron swooped in from the side, opting to tackle and punch one of the drones. ----- Karl simply shook his head when his shot failed to connect with its intended targets. "This would've been much easier using my own hands." He took a deep breath and readied to fire again, this time he fired off a concentrated volley of plasma.
https://youtu.be/676A6VymGCk "Thread's over." The disembodied voice of Archangel could be heard "We win. Goodbye!" "Why are you still here? Go wait for the next thread."
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