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Futuristic NCQuest: Mecha flavored action, Story

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Episode 3: Operation Grecian Hostage
Adam couldn't help but grimace as he listened to the briefing. The more he heard about what the situation was and the conditions in which they could be fighting the more it sounded like an utter shit show. Sure, maybe they would get lucky and the police would take care of it, but the Linker figured it was far more likely things would go bad and their team of NCs would be called in. Though he had to wonder if the Vanguard's unique mobility system would keep him high enough above to rails to avoid any electrical discharges. Accidentally smashing into a wall might be worth it to avoid being shocked, or so he was hoping. Though the reduced mobility that came with using the jammer might make it easier to control how he was moving and avoid any such accidents, or at least that is what Adam was hoping.

Ultimately though he knew that the enemy and what they may do in regards to the hostages was a far bigger concern than the environmental conditions they would be dealing with, and Adam had no good ideas on how to deal with that particular problem. Hostage type stuff was something he always avoided in video games, but as with many things, real life was not going to grant him that luxury if he wanted to get paid. With an annoyed sigh he pushed those thoughts to the side as there was no point in fretting over it until the battle broke out and they had a better idea about the situation. Until then he could think of only one thing to bring up.

"Vanguard understands the mission parameters and will comply. Emperor, Janus, assuming bad things happen and we have the choice on how we go on, do you want to opt for speed or take advantage of my jammer for a more cautious approach?"
 
Episode 3
Arriving at the hangar, she spotted Hardpoint resting well and ready for action. Luckily for her, the recent module addition she requested had been fitted and tested before this incident happened. This was the first chance she had at using the module in combat, hopefully it'd serve her just as well as it did being tested. Pulling out a small bottle, Hazel already had forgot to take the pills for the burn scars in the hasty get up for the mission. Opening it up, she took one out, managing to just swallow it without the need for water before closing the lid and replacing it into her coat pocket that she still had on.

Continuing to walk towards Hardpoint, removing her coat as she did, Hazel was about to get started on the usual NC procedures before a voice behind her spoke. Turning around, she found that it was Peytons who had a tablet in her hand, querying what to call her "Hardpoint in the field and Hazel out of work." Hazel responded. Feeling a little silly about the absence of an introduction, she reached out offering a handshake to her new teammate for the mission. Clearly Hazel would get on well with Peyton, seemingly a no nonsense sort in the field. "What about yourself?"

 
Episode 3, Operation: Grecian Hostage
The discussion of the three members in Team A was temporarily halted by the commanding team of Handlers, mostly Sarah Nielsen of course, approving a final check for flight and notifying the lot that their mission was initiated and they could, and should, launch immediately. "Time is of the essence, Linkers. Launch immediately to let the next squad out.", before she decided to engage in their minor discussion herself while she was at it. "Uhh, if I may... I don't think electronic warfare systems would work in such conditions at all. I think that's what Streu-... Emperor, was trying to note, right?", theorizing on the practicalities of it.

"Richard wasn't lying when he said it's going to be cramped. Not like either side can miss, even if they have to aim manually. The main intersection might be big enough, but it's still really close quarters... Be careful.", before another voice came into the channel. It was Malthus, offering his two cents. "You knuckle-draggers aren't going to be able to avoid damage. Can't dodge when you have to be in a single-file line. I see two basic ways of minimizing the threat; Disperse, or keep yourselves in a line and keep rotating, to spread the damage. It's a tight fit...", he tangentially mentioned, snickering. "...but there should be just enough space to switch positions. Get comfortable with each-other.", having a bit too much fun with the imagined awkwardness. This man laughs at any plight, no matter how minor.

Sarah near-audibly rolled her eyes, before she continued the discussion. "Well, we aren't the ones on the ground so it's your call on how to handle the specifics. ... But, admittedly, just rotating around in a line sounds... odd. Even if it's practical, it's more like a comedy skit. I'd probably recommend against it. From what it sounds, just dispersing is probably the best. It's surrounding the enemy, too." She seemed to be wondering if Malthus intentionally gave bad, or just plain weird advice. Things would be easy, if he actually focused on helping...

Still; it was time to launch. They'd have enough time to finalize some things in flight, before they land at the operation area.

"Good luck, out there!", was followed by Malthus' customary belittling. "You'll definitely need it!"

Queue A:
Malphaestus Malphaestus (Streuben)
YsFanatic YsFanatic (Adam)
Aldur Aldur (Hadrian, Richard)
 
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Jennifer smirked and nodded. "Mirage in the field and Peyton elsewhere." She shook Hazel's hand firmly, grateful for being paired with someone of an equal professional attitude. As interesting as the previous mission was with Cammy there was a time and place for shock & awe. Jennifer had a growing suspicion that this might not be that time nor place.

"A pleasure to meet you properly. How does Hardpoint fare in the field?"

Either before Hazel could answer or just seconds after doing so a third person arrived. It was Alice, Peyton's handler, dressed casually with a much more relaxed office-outfit. She wore a black knee-length skirt and a short-sleeved white shirt with her hair tied into a bun. In her hand was a large computer tablet. She nodded towards the two Linkers and offered a brief smile. "Peyton. Scott."

Alice extended her hand towards Hazel and nodded again. "Alice Ericsen. Handler. A pleasure to meet you."

SkyHawk MK III SkyHawk MK III
 
Episode 3: Pre-missionFREDRICH-ALEXANDER VON STREUBEN
To some's surprise, he also responds to "Tower-Upright."

The Emperor listened, intently, at what was being said. Apparently their briefer- one unfamiliar to all but apparently the kindred spirit clad in an unfamiliar iron vessel right besides them, that of Janus- had thought it wise to make sure that the Emperor was aware of how his own weapons function, and whilst it was indeed something he did not need to tell, he did. The reactor whirred to life, a strange sense of aggression digging itself out of quiet caverns within the nebulous landscape of the Emperor's psyche. He wanted to-

Streuben opened his eyes, met the endless void within his own capsule. Whilst the capsule wasn't very massive, it was dark: per Streuben's request. Supposedly he thought it enhanced his immersion, but now as he felt the infinites of himself and everything, in a strange sense of 'enlightened;' he interrupted his thoughts. They felt alien, yet familiar; a sense of soulboundedness overwhelmed him as he did. He moved the machines arms crossing agains the Emperor's proud torso, and as he held both his own and the machine's eyes opened, he felt it. For the first time, the finally explainble sense of disconnect. But a growing sense of self.

His realization was interrupted by Sarah, and her 'proper' behaviour. He wasn't a sage, what was he even thinking. He was a linker, always was. Atleast when he dreamed, long ago. And now he is one, so he would have to perform at his best.

He closed his eyes again, and left his consciousness drift against electronic strings and alloyed muscles; they felt real, like his own. Again, he returned to battle-ready stature, and spoke to the congregation, as the machine once more. "Yes. The tunnels are far too narrow, and far too long, for us to attempt any kind of stealth." The awareness of his drifting mind didn't help the machine-mind in its thought-conversion, the result more comparable to the steel beasts that the NCs actually are. Deep, soft 'growls' accompanying each word, the result of a mind out of balance; this time, because of awareness, as opposed to preoccupation.

Streuben tried his best to ease himself into the 'seat' once more, and to much better results. Seemingly back into perfect condition. He tossed his thoughts aside, and merged completely with the Emperor, for real, this time. Third's the charm, it was either you get into the fight, or your dreams are lost, Fredrich-Alexander.

The Emperor's feet stopped, he was in position; now all that was needed was to finalize the plan; should the Military-Police fail. Which they will. The Governor doesn't pay their bills because they're good, but because of their costumes. Not to mention the Denver-Vegas train. Whilst it would traditionally mean nothing, it could mean that the Governor is afraid of seeing his shit governance take the blame by Denver-Vegas' industrial complex. Which would mean his life.

"The best plan would be a synchronised strike, a fast one," the machine-voice, now perfectly resembling it's pilot's own, finished. Simultaneously, The Emperor contacted Malthus, privately, through their Terminal network, typing: "Find out as much as you can about that train, whose it is, and why the Governor is so desperate for it." He would need to be ruthless, if he was to become what he wishes to be. And it will cost, fortunes; if he can snake a better contract with the Governor, it would only be good. For the Emperor, that is.

Aldur Aldur , YsFanatic YsFanatic , Windsock Windsock .
 
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Episode 3
Hazel a received a good firm handshake from Peyton, along with another question about Hardpoint after answering Hazel's inquiry. The small talk between the two was cut short by a third person entered the scene, a casually dressed individual who identified herself as Alice Ericen; A handler. Probably Peyton's. A hand was extended towards Hazel who took it in the same firm, professional grip that she got from Peyton. "Pleasure to meet you Alice, look forward to working with you."

Returning to the question that Peyton asked, Hazel responded "Fare's well enough" She shrugged a little "Only took it for a spin when I did that little test a while back, wasn't too bad then, doubt it'll be too bad now." Hazel looked to Hardpoint as she spoke before turning her attention once more to her new teammate "What about yours? Saw it got beaten bloody after the first mission. Not that I'm dismissing it's capabilities of course.."

 
Episode 3“Hmm… Yeah, I guess we’ll see when we get there. Situations change quickly. Still, some things are worth more intact than destroyed. Knowing how most Linkers are in it for the money and equipment… You see what I’m getting at. At the very least, there’s more in it to attempt capture than to outright destroy. For me it's more… Personal preference.”

Niko replied. He returned the smile as usual, and his chipper tone remained present. He already knew most Linkers, and by extension most people, were not one for his approach. That was fine, in due time they would change, at least he believed so. Lead by example and the rest will follow, or something like that.

Walking as they talked, they reached the hangar’s entry soon enough. The door was opened via specialized keycard, pilot IDs, or a rather annoying set of manual locks. Luckily as Linkers, both of them would have the first two means of entry available to them. Once inside Niko wasted little time in getting up the stairs to the platforms. Unsurprisingly, NCs were being tended to by engineers and assorted staff, with one noticing the entry of the Linkers.

“Niko! Just running the last few checks on the Samaritan!” He called out over the background noise from across a connected walkway. Niko responded with a thumbs up, before continuing the conversation from earlier, overlooking his mildly insect-themed machine. It was still in its default colors, currently lacking a distinct emblem, with only its unit number on the left side of its chest plating. “Gotta get it painted one day, though not sure what just yet… But besides that, I’m sure you’ve noticed the lack of heavy firepower. Keeps me light, which I need if I’m going to be using my tools for the purpose I’ve given them.”

Niko gestured to the sprayer first, which was in the process of being filled with some dark substance. Judging from the amount of noise the pump was making just to fill the reservoirs, it was barely designed for such a task. Luckily the sprayer itself had more power to it, otherwise there’d be trouble. The sword was self explanatory at first glance, though it had some features to it.

“Sprayer and a well-rounded sword is all I need for now. Both useful for anyone looking to mission-kill, but not actually kill. Should try picking one up yourself one day, who knows when you might need it. That, and gorilla glue solves all problems. Did for my father, at least.” He chuckled, tossing his helmet from one hand to another, and back.

AnonyMouse AnonyMouse
 
"Likewise," said Alice while smiling. She folded her arms on the datapad and looked to Peyton as the two Linker's continued their conversation.

"It was rough. Almost didn't make it out standing." Peyton glanced at Mirage before looking back at Hazel and Alice. "Should be fully operational now though. MAVERICK's crew work wonders."
She nodded towards Alice. "Got a briefing for us?"

Alice nodded. "Yep, so unless the two of you need to hash something out I recommend you get seated. I'll be in the TOC."

*
​
A few minutes later, no more than ten but no less than five, the two Linkers were in their respective NCs. Jennifer was still in the process of booting up several auxiliary systems when Alice initiated a group call between the two of them and Hazel. Surprisingly the onboard electronic equipment seemed to work just fine, something that was impressive in Peyton's eyes when considering just how much damage she had taken the last mission.

Hopefully I'll steer clear of that kind of trouble this time.

Most of her NC equipment had been repaired and restored while some had been outright replaced. In the case of her NC-sized anti-material rifle MAVERICK had done the latter; salvaging only the ammunition from the old rifle before making a completely new one. Thankfully the Mirage's electronic warfare-suite had fared well- needing only minor tweaks and repairs before being restored to complete functionality.
Now, as Alice readied herself to start the briefing, Peyton couldn't help but glance at Hazel's NC. Hardpoint stood out in comparison to the other NCs. Stocky, dense and seemingly heavily armored the entire mech looked more like a construction walker for use in battlefield environments. That or a giant EOD-trooper. Or a rugby player.

Alice cleared her throat. Jennfier turned to face the screen currently displaying her handler. Alice, now donning a military-style headset on her head, was illuminated by a faint blue and teal shine because of the screen in front of her. The unique lighting only served to accentuate her features and Peyton was struck by how pretty she actually was.

"Ladies, welcome to Operation Broken Tomahawk."

Clearing her throat once more Alice followed up by leaning in slightly towards the screen.

"We've been tasked with assisting the New Maryland Self-Defense Force and Coast Guard. Hostile forces belonging to the Sons of Zeus-" Alice paused and glanced at Peyton "-have launched an amphibious assault on the eastern shoreline. As of now intel is a bit touch-and-go with a constant stream of information pouring in sensors, drones and New Maryland forces that are already on the ground. That said, please bear with me as I might not be able to fill out all the gaps right away."

Jennifer simply nodded in response and adjusted herself to make herself as comfortable as the NC's seat allowed her to be. Alice however continued;

"From what we can tell a pair of assault landing ships have beached themselves on the shoreline to allow the deployment of mobile gun batteries and other possible long-range weaponry, including artillery and anti-aircraft guns. Friendly forces currently deployed to the area report that these two vessels are heavily armed- MAVERICK is currently fetching the rough specifications- so caution is advised when dealing with them, should you find yourself in a direct engagement that is."

"Enemy ground forces consist of light motorized forces with some mechanized elements. There may be anti-armor infantry squads as well, though nothing has been confirmed yet. The Sons of Zeus are also utilizing armored hovercraft to patrol the shore and harass friendly forces, further cementing their hold on their part of the shore."

"Hardpoint and Mirage has been requested to be deployed. A local New Maryland Coast Guard commander will be in charge of the over-arcing operation though I expect he'll give the two of you some freedom in terms of how to actually tackle the enemy. So far his forces are holding right outside the enemy kill-zone with mechanized and naval assets in play. From what I can tell the enemy isn't actively expanding and thus it's fair to suspect that they're either holding their position to establish a beachhead or they are in the process of setting up long-range weaponry."

Alice sighed. "I know this is a lot of information to chew on. The odds aren't exactly amazing either but hopefully the Coast Guard will have more for us when we arrive. Questions?"

SkyHawk MK III SkyHawk MK III
 
Episode 3, Operation 2A: Grecian Hostage
As the three Neural Combatants assigned to 'Grecian Hostage' launched and grouped up while underway, they were given a waypoint-pathway to the relevant area of operations by the leading team of Handlers. Checkpoint one, two, and three were breached one after another; this continuing further as the provisional squad flew westwards to the area. Flying fairly high yet underneath the crying clouds, the three were a fascinating sight even in the fog, the sound and light of engines at full thrust making themselves known to everyone while they flew overhead, some stopping to admire the Neural Combatants' cruise and what it represented.

Linkers were in control of what was strategically equivalent to battleships that could fly. And, three of them were headed to a single spot, together. To some who took the time to watch, it was terrifying; others found it comforting. Was this a case of actual need, or overkill in the name of expediency? Of course, they weren't flying particularly fast for Neural Combatants; two of the three weren't exactly optimized for flight, even during a long cruise such as this. So the Emperor led the way, which almost certainly tickled the Linker's sensibilities pink.

Their cruise continued, westwards.

On the same private line the Emperor opened to speak to his assigned Linker, the text message he sent was responded to rather quickly, a singular terse post. 'A little ahead of you. Governor might not've been lying. Denver-Vegas train, and personnel as stated. All above board. Overheard Richard; data correct. I see what you're getting at with how he seemed personally worried. Digging. I expect a fair cut.'

Still, he sent another text that was a little surprising. 'Good luck. And don't be stupid and do the line thing, that was a joke.'

Operation 2A, Grecian Hostage: Start!
The waypoint-hugging flight was thankfully uneventful, until the Linkers were properly linked to the network they were scheduled to merge with; the Military Police's on-site communication and sensor network. A communique was detected, and properly interpreted with the help of the resident communications specialist back at base smoothing the process. The other individual was identified as the Chief of Police, currently leading the situation on the ground personally. His voice was plagued with some static, but he could still be understood well enough; he sounded perhaps as expected, as a gruff figure of authority. Besides a mild subdued panic, and a more obvious indignation his voice had a tone of, for reasons easy to surmise.

"This is Petrov, Chief-of-Police, to the three Linkers-", the man in charge said first; confirming the line was operating as expected. A slight moment to make sure it was working, before he continued. With some venom, he admitted it wasn't going as well as could be hoped. "-Situation has not changed. Negotiations have currently stopped, and might not continue. Request has not changed; sit back and provide backup." He then went on to make absolutely sure that the Linkers wouldn't make anything worse, perchance distrusting the trio sent to help him, on some level. "Do not fire until given an order or the Sons shoot first. That's all. Don't make them jumpy, just sit back. We want this to go as peaceful as we can. Not even one of you should dare to aim any weapons pre-emptively. Do you three understand?"

As the fog started to lighten up near the combat zone, the particulars of the operational area made themselves known; there was a slight bump in the wasteland-ground, representing a slightly raised ceiling to a tunnel underneath the surface itself. The tunnel was the ending stretch of the SuperFreightway, a five-rail line that started to split up in this last section. The 'artery' was wide, and quite long; but the end merged with the surface; disgorging a series of over-ground rails.

Of course, the trouble spot was a bit further into the tunnel than that. One opening closer to the actual point of interest was obvious, as the intel suggested; a specific north-east bound offloading line that quickly went back up to the surface, before continuing off into the horizon again to somewhere else in New-Maryland. The other three that could be surmised included the 'main' already noted, which split into two distinct rails, and a final rail that went more south, continuing underground much further than the other secondary.

The northern opening was closest to the actual trouble spot, but it was almost certain that it was being watched very intently by the Sons of Zeus. It might even be booby-trapped or set to collapse already for all the Linkers knew. Whoever was assigned there needed to be prepared, the two sides staring at one another with no cover between them. All their weapons would be at the ready, difficult not to aim at one another. The direct intimidation could be helpful, or very harmful to the safety of the hostages.

The other 'throats' weren't as close, but offered better chances of survival and general practicality. The Linkers taking those routes would have the choice of staying at the mouth, which might waste a few precious seconds if shots were fired, but could also help to defuse the situation. The alternative was to march through them and get straight into the Sons' business. That had similar upsides and downsides to the northernly tunnel, but even more exaggerated. If the interior sides of those tunnels were set up with traps somehow, could that whole section of the tunnel collapse?

The situation was difficult to consider. It was up to the Linkers to figure out how they wanted to fulfill their contract.


Malphaestus Malphaestus (Emperor)
YsFanatic YsFanatic (Vanguard)
Aldur Aldur (Janus, Richard)
​
 
Episode 3Cammy listened intently as she followed Niko into the hangar and up onto the platforms, where the other Linkers and their crews were already preparing to launch. His words proved her suspicions true. Great, he's some kind of pacifist or something, she thought cynically, though the look on her face was more confusion than disappointment or dissatisfaction. The question of 'why' loitered in the corners of her mind far longer than she would've liked, but now wasn't the best time to probe the guy's ideology. Surely, there was a story there. Surely, he didn't wake up one morning and say 'I wanna pilot a multi-million dollar death-machine... but not kill anybody.' She'd like to know his story sometime, but not now. If anything, she admired that he had ideals and was sticking to them.

She just hoped his ideals didn't get them killed.

He mentioned his NC still needed a proper livery and she took that as a welcome change of subject and an open invitation to sling some paint at his rig. The thought of it brought a warm smile to her face, which matched his own, and Cammy was just about to offer her unique artistic talents when she heard the harmonious clicking of heels on the metal grates, a sound that had become synonymous with the arrival of her handler. She turned in time to see Halliwell approaching them with a measured pace which was neither fast nor slow. She moved quickly enough to give the impression that she was capable of speed --or the illusion of it-- yet just slowly enough and smoothly enough to not appear hurried and exude an air of absolute control, as if she sets the tempo, not them, or the Sons of Zeus, or even the moon and stars. It was unnerving how perfect this woman always seemed, even at 3AM.

"I never thought I'd see the day I would have to tell the two fastest Linkers to hurry up," Halliwell said lightheartedly, arriving in their midst like an angel fallen from the heavens... which would technically make her a demon, right? Right. "Yet... here we are," she concluded, briefly meeting Cammy's eyes, before turning to the young man and offering her hand. Hard to say whether she wanted him to shake it or drop to his knees, kiss it, and pledge fealty to Her Highness. "Elena Halliwell. I am to be your operator for the duration of this assignment."

"Fastest NCs, not fastest Linkers. We're both compensating," Cammy teased, but Halliwell's attention remained firmly affixed to the younger Linker. Her lack of response and complete dismissal of Cammy's verbal jab cut sharper than any witty retort she could have conjured.

"Suit up. The call to launch may come down at any moment. Don't be caught standing," Halliwell said, with a small circular motion of her hand, the universal signal for 'wrap it up.' "You'll be defending a water treatment facility. Targets appear to be mostly airborne drones, so outfit your machines accordingly. I have already spoken with both crews, to get the ball rolling. Full briefing once you're strapped in."

And, with that, she turned and began to walk away, without so much as a 'goodbye' or 'godspeed' or 'see you soon.' She didn't even call them 'dear.' While Halliwell wasn't exactly the warmest person in the world, the distinct lack of pleasantries caught Cammy off guard. Halliwell's professionalism was something she had come to expect and respect, but it usually came with a softer touch. After a quick wave to Niko, Cammy did a quick two-step to catch up with the woman.

"The hell was that?" she said, once they were out of earshot. "Somebody interrupt your beauty sleep? Woke up on the wrong side of the coffin?"

"I merely wanted to impress upon you both the levity of the situation," Halliwell said, without breaking stride. "This one's not like the last one."

"If only these fuckers had waited a few more days, the railgun would be ready," Camille muttered. "Raijin's got no AA weaponry."

Halliwell's brows rose and her face seemed to brighten ever-so slightly. "Ah, so you noticed," she remarked. "Your lack of reaction when I mentioned airborne targets gave me the impression it had slipped your mind. Sometimes, you prove sharper than I give you credit for, Camille. Then again, you've displayed remarkable competence in matters concerning your NC. To your credit, you seem to have a firm understanding of what Raijin can and cannot do."

"Raijin can fly up there and swat 'em outta of the sky," Camille said, shadow-boxing. "Time for some literal dogfighting... or catfighting... whatever, you know what I mean."

Halliwell sighed. "No, dear, we've already engineered a solution. Play to your strengths: adaptability."

They arrived at Number 8's platform, where her maintenance crew was busy retrofitting some devices to the warheads of Raijin's HE shells, probably intended to make them function as crude flak. Camille didn't have to ask; she could already see where this was going. The crew was working quickly, like a well-oiled machine, and Cammy was certain that was due to Halliwell's guidance. The idea had probably come from Mr. Griggs, her maintenance lead. He had a background in the Denver-Vegas mechanized infantry, so artillery was something of a specialty of his. But Halliwell was probably the one who got everyone moving double-time and brought it all together. Something about this symphony of man and machine made Cammy realize just how potent her team was. They had all the ingredients to achieve greatness...

This thought was fermenting in her mind when a technician ran by and thrust her flight suit into Halliwell's arms, without stopping. Halliwell immediately turned to Camille who accepted the suit. The passing of the baton was so flawless a machine couldn't have done it better.

"You think he set us up?" Camille said.

"You mean Oswald?" Halliwell replied, reading her mind. The question was, of course, rhetorical. Of course she knew Camille meant Oswald.

"My NC flies like a gorilla with a firecracker up its ass. I've got no automatic weapons, no guided weapons, just HE shells, cluster bombs, incendiaries, and bunker-busters. Oh, and heat-seeking missiles eat Raijin for breakfast," Camille said, spelling it all out in slow, measured words. "Yet, he puts us on anti-air duty, with Flyboi. Watchin' us fumble around ought to make his horse in this race look real good."

Halliwell actually laughed. Not a friendly laugh, either. She threw her head back and belted out a sinister cackle fit for a vampire queen or evil sorceress or the villainess of a Saturday morning cartoon. "So you do know how the game is played?" she said, when she finally regained her composure. "Stop, Camille. It's not like you."

"But-"

"A wounded animal sees everyone as a predator," Halliwell said. "You are not wounded, and I intend to keep it that way." She smiled. "For what it's worth, Oswald isn't the type to play such games... but don't be surprised if other handlers and Linkers do. Suit up," she nodded to the flight suit. "Their intentions don't matter. Their schemes don't matter. Our objective remains the same: win. That is who we are. Winners."
 
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Episode 3
Climbing into the cockpit of Hardpoint, Hazel strapped herself in and started the process of getting the NC online, cursing herself for not splurging extra cash on a better targeting system I'll deal with what I got for now. The voice of Alice echoed into the cockpit as she continued the booting up process. As Alice was listening off the possible hostile forces that they would encounter, it almost seemed like Hardpoint was on the wrong mission. Anti-aircraft and artillery? Hell, that could be better for someone else to take care of. Hazel debated the idea of protesting her deployment based on the fact that other NC's could do a better job, though she quickly came to the conclusion that it would cause more issues from Oswald and the fact of limited information about the weaponry restricted her decision. It was possible that the long range weaponry were missiles, which she could deal with easily. Hmm...

She thought about just sending 5 rounds of her grenade launcher down range at the beach head and calling it a day, though it wasn't as simple as that, not that it ever was. She could make a lot of assumptions as to how it all played out, though they wouldn't know the full story until either en-route to the location or when they got there. Hopefully it would be the former than the latter. Anti-Armour infantry was easy to deal with, so there wasn't going to be issues with them as Hazel doubted infantry had enough potential to cut into Hardpoints armour. Artillery was the real problem here. Regardless of it being HE or even using AP rounds, it'll still annoy both of the Linkers as well as the current friendly forces in the area.

What about those hovercraft? Hazel gave it a thought but couldn't think much of a easy way to deal with them. While hovercraft can switch from land to water, it was possible that they would just stick to the water to cover the beach head from any friendly attacks on water. Am I overthinking all of this? With the booting up process finalised, Hazel chewed on the rest of the information that Alice provided along with Alice asking if either of them had any questions, with Hazel responding "None here."

 
"None here."
Click to expand...

Alice glanced towards Peyton who shook her head slightly. "None, ma'am."

Nodding, Alice leaned back in her chair. "Good. Deployment should be green-lit any minute now. For now I suggest you double-check and triple-check your systems while I try to dig up some more intel for the two of you."

That said the transmission was paused, as indicated by the large bold text on Hazel's and Jennifer's respective screens. While continuing to boot up her systems Jennifer looked at her teammate. "This reminds me of my old job. Same odds, similar situation and the same type of gear."

She smirked briefly. "Or at least, the same gear but scaled up ten times."

"I figured we'll discuss strategy once we're on the ground. Is that alright with you?"

SkyHawk MK III SkyHawk MK III
 
Episode 3: Arrival at the LZHADRIAN FOSSE
To some's surprise, he also responds to "Sarge."

Through the walkway of stars, the knights pushed through with weapons at the ready. The low rumbling of distant thunder accompanied the trio throughout their journey. The rain gave them a cold shower and let them know it was far from being done with them. Hadrian thanked the heavens for these precious moments of respite in between the brief and the bloodshed. It was perhaps unreasonable to think so, but Hadrian could swear he felt every single droplet of rain sliding off his hardened carapace. A feeling that calmed his nerves and cleared his mind. Where they were going, doubts were not welcome.

At the brink of serenity, Hadrian heard an intrusion into Janus' communication systems. It was the Military Police, no doubts about it. Chief Petrov came on rather strongly, disturbing the peace and going straight to barking orders. Orders that they were already aware of. Hadrian, without a moment of hesitation confirmed with a simple and dry affirmation.

"Copy that."

The faint feelings of contempt for the Chief's distrust of the three of them were quickly dismissed, following years of getting used to it. When the fog cleared and Hadrian could get a good look at the area of operation, it became difficult for Hadrian to look at it as something other than a combat zone. Truthfully, he stopped thinking about it as a civilian area as soon as it was mentioned in the mission debrief. And it won't be until the situation is resolved.

Hadrian's weapons were holstered as approached the LZ and would remain so after he had landed. He wasn't one to challenge orders. As he made himself known to the Military Police, Janus brought his palm to his 'head' and Hadrian spoke through the comm links.

"Hadrian Fosse, Maverick. Reporting for duty."

Malphaestus Malphaestus , YsFanatic YsFanatic , Windsock Windsock
 
Episode 3, Operation 2C: Broken Tomahawk
Before the two could further their discussion, Scott and Peyton were notified that they were cleared to launch and expected to do so. The lifts which held their Neural Combatants groaned to life, platforms meeting up with the surface and aiming the mechs to the runway.

Waypoints set and sent by the overarching command-trio of Handlers, the Linkers were compelled to launch, by Sarah once more. Or admittedly, for the first time in their case.


"All systems are go. Your communications'll hook up with the Coast Guard as soon as you're in range. Follow waypoints as directed to reach the designated combat zone. Good luck out there."

She must've remembered something, as she blurted a sound before offering one more piece of information. "Oh! Just got a request of a stealthy insertion, so as soon as you enter the larger designated envelope, make sure to land, then hover in at most. Radio silence is also preferred. Until then, feel free to talk until you two enter the bubble. Alice, rest is up to you."

Oswald pitched in afterwards, all of a sudden. "Lots'a good folks in danger. All three of you, consider this an order: Don't let em launch nothin'."

Sarah left the fireteam with a sobering thought. "Yeah... I just hope this is the worst of it. Again, good luck."

With waypoints fully set and full clearance given, the two NC's launched and were underway. The Hardpoint, a heavy explosives expert, and the Mirage, a stealth operations specialist. Hopefully, the skillset presented would be enough.
 
Episode 3: Operation Grecian Hostage
As some likely would have expected, Adam's NC was the last to touch down and it was a bit... clumsy to say the least. However he was pleased with it as Adam could tell that he had gotten better with landings compared to when he was in training. Still had a long way ago of course, but it was sufficient for now.

When the police chief finished his piece Adam responded with a simple "Vanguard understands," before turning his attention to the terrain. If this was a game he would have had no problem just picking a path and going with it, but now he found himself rather unsure on how they should approach this if hostilities broke out. The hesitation confused the Linker a bit. He didn't think it was fear for his life, after all he couldn't afford to be a coward if he wanted to earn the money for his medication.

It took a few moments before Adam figured out what was getting to him, the fact that innocents would live or die based upon their actions today. Being directly responsible for others in that way was completely foreign to the young man, and he quickly decided that he didn't particularly care for the feeling.

'Guess I'll have to chalk this up as one of those things I'm just going to deal with, no matter how much I hate it.'

Taking a breath and then slowly letting it out, Adam pushed those thoughts aside and focused back on the task on hand. For now he would wait to see what happened next.
 
Episode 3, Operation 2A: Grecian Hostage
The Chief-of-Police sighed, a heavy breath that expelled a mixture of tension and simple air. At least two of those damn Linkers could follow orders. Maybe this clusterfuck would end alright?

In his long service to New-Maryland he never experienced an incident quite of this caliber. Even the man previously in his position, when Petrov was just a humble line officer, didn't have to handle a hostage situation involving hundreds of people. Or the hostage-takers being honest-to-god rogue special forces personnel. And with the possibility that the SuperFreight, one of the lifelines of the city, could be damaged heavily: or, god forbid, collapse.

He took solace in an icon he brought with him, a very old, wooden cross he had wrapped around his neck, under his undershirt. It was in his family for many, many generations. He himself wasn't very religious, but he hoped whatever force that actually was out there was watching closely. He couldn't specifically remember the last time he prayed and actually meant it: but he knew he was going to remember this time. Presuming he got out if it, of course.

What surprised him the most was how at peace he was with the idea. Standing in the hatch of a demilitarized Infantry Fighting Vehicle, all it would technically take to send him to the great beyond was one lucky round in his skull. His helmet, strapped tightly as it was, wasn't going to stop an actual high-powered rifle round. It was designed to deflect thrown beer bottles and at most a pistol's shot, not the tier of damage actually being considered at the moment, with rifles and goddamn anti-tank autocannons.

Still, Petrov didn't care at the moment, his mind was dead-set on analyzing what led up to this point, and how to get out of it. He went down from his hatch and motioned for another man, the resident negotiator, to his spot as he exited the vehicle. Fourth time this exchange happened today: but this time there wouldn't be negotiations. The Sons were done talking for now. Best to have the voice of the police available anyway.

Bastards didn't even mention any new demands, just had one of the Ersatz along with them bash its claw against the train and let loose the sound of panic. Unbelievable. The negotiator couldn't decide on a psychological profile to use after that stunt. They were either all completely psychopathic, or were anarchic sado-masochists with an exhibitionism fetish. Petrov didn't think he ever needed to know that there was a pre-existing profile for that, but he never expected to handle a situation like this either.

The demands alone were difficult to even believe. 'Complete and utter expulsion of all Ruling Company economic activity' was the biggest one. For New Maryland, the hostage taker might as well have requested everyone put a gun in their mouths and pull the trigger. This city was built on Ruling Company trade! Did the Sons even believe in those terms, or were they trying the age-old technique of demanding something insane and then demanding something sane? If they were, how long were they going to wait until they reveal their "actual" demands?

Gazing across the scene, he checked all the material that he had available to command. Four turretless infantry fighting vehicles, glinting dimly in the half-hearted light of the tunnel, as lights even further down flickered on and off. Mostly off. Squads of men in full riot gear were lined up, the number of heads involved barely reaching sixty.

It was a shitshow. Petrov always hated how the Coast Guard got the biggest slice of pie, but on top of that the pie itself got smaller and smaller in recent years. The Governor was getting real stingy and real cheap. Lazy fuck. God, he hated everything about that old bastard. Petrov could feel it in his own bones that the Governor bought the position, but could never do anything about it with no proof.

He took out his radio one more time and mentally examined the reccomendations he got for dealing with Linkers. Damn mercenaries, almost as bad as the terrorists! Was there even a difference? It was obvious the Sons Of Zeus were playing at a bigger game on somebody else's payroll, but Petrov knew he wasn't going to figure that out on his own either. His disgust for the whole situation had to be hidden for now, as he activated the radio and set the channel.

"This is the Chief-of-Police. Situation still hasn't changed. Get to position as soon as possible... ...", he paused. He figured he might as well ask. "If you've any ideas, share 'em-"

Before he could even finish, he heard something, a loud racket. It was like a... he wasn't even sure, maybe like a conflagration? The closest thing he could compare it to was a secondary ignition at a gas leak he was present for, back during the GeneTech investigations about a decade ago.

It came from a maintenance tunnel, to the right side of the Chief. The security door was already open. He merely pointed out four heads and yelled. "You, you, and you two! Check it out! I want every damn inch combed!"

There were already four men in that tunnel. Were the Sons testing their luck? He pondered it for a moment, then motioned for three more men to follow the first four. A lot of heads, but he was playing with a disadvantage.

He noticed his radio was still on, and figured a reminder was in order. "Just hurry up!" was all he could say, before he noticed somebody else was trying to get on the line.

"Uhh, Sir, this is maintenance. Diagnostic sensors just suggested.. uhh.. We aren't sure yet. You probably heard something, though. Did you already send men to check it out?"

Petrov wondered what the hell that could mean. "Yes, we heard something and sent a team. Explain further."

"Yes, sir. Diagnostics just suggested an influx of... gas, in maintenance tunnel R3. There isnt any gas being pumped through there... Not even the whole tunnel. We aren't sure what it could be."

With the strange, extended sound that he barely recognized, Petrov couldn't quite figure out what was happening until a second too late. The dots just didn't connect.

Meanwhile...
A rough, speaker-enhanced voice rang out in the tight corridor, bemoaning the ridiculous excuse it just heard. "What do you mean it was a damn dud?!", the sergeant groaned, before deciding to set an example.

"Idiot! If you didn't know how to set the fuse right, you should've just said so!", before the power-armored trooper brought out a large cylinder. The armor was fully enclosed, with thick plates and plenty of padding protecting the man inside from combat and the environment. The helmet was a solid mass, the role of a visor replaced by externalized cameras for sight, alongside various other sensors standing in for the rest of the senses. A good four more soldiers were similarly outfitted, in double-file, watching the man in charge dope-slap the tech-illiterate meathead beside him at the front. With the fact both parties were wearing several hundred, perhaps a thousand pounds of steel, the reverberation rang out through the whole corridor.

"Watch close, you neanderthals!", the sergeant spoke, before flicking a large switch at the side of his long cylinder, which was evidently a rocket launcher of some kind. The switch was properly set to 'PENETRATE', and the sight was lined up right in the middle of the door at the far side of the hallway.


"John, Eliot, Bannen, and I are going to breach first. You seven are going to be the second wave. Any objections?" The breacher, Albert, saw no disagreement in the collection of plexiglass-covered faces staring at him as he scanned the cramped room. Except for one.

"...I dunno, man, what if it's booby-trapped or something? We still don't know what that bang was or what this smell is."

Albert scoffed. "Well, if you have a better idea, let's hear it! ... No? Figured. On the the count of three. One. Two. Th-"

He couldn't finish the countdown, as barely a foot away from his chest a rocket impacted the door and tunneled through. Not even a quarter of a single second of time was all that he had left as he saw the tip of the missile pierce the metal door they were huddled around. The last thing he ever felt was the effect of a thermobaric blast pulping his entire body into something resembling burnt paste.


An unmistakeable, huge explosion rang out, emanating from that same maintenance tunnel. At that exact moment, Petrov knew he just sent seven-no, eleven good men to their deaths. He took the radio in his hand and notified the Linkers that it was quickly turning into the massacre everyone feared it would be. "Shots fired! SHOTS FIRED! ENGAGE, ENGAGE!", the Chief screamed before taking charge of the immediate situation. He started unholstering his revolver and gave commands with his other arm, barking out orders all the while. The remaining men under his command let the four IFV's rev their engines and gun through their lines, headed up the slight curve ahead and right into the Sons of Zeus' outermost perimeter that was agreed upon just a few hours ago. The line of military police divided itself in twain at Petrov's order, elements splitting off to bar maintenance doors with batons and throwing in the occasional tear-gas grenade.

His heart sank to a depth he didn't know was possible, and his voice began to croak as he continued directing his men. This was a nightmare, turned real.

Hopefully those Linkers are worth a damn.


Malphaestus Malphaestus (Streuben)
YsFanatic YsFanatic (Davion)
Aldur Aldur (Fosse, Knight)

writen on mai iphoen5 ayy lmao
 
Before Hazel could respond to Peyton, she was interrupted by the immediate launch of their NC's. Listening to Sarah's concerns and Oswald's order, Hazel nodded, adding her customary "Aye Aye." onto the end of the conversation. After that, she turned to answer Peyton once everything had calmed down "Sounds good to me. Shouldn't be too hard considering you've done it before, can guide me through it then can't you?" Hazel added a smile onto the end of it, though she was concerned about the stealthy insertion "Hardpoint wasn't built for stealth as you can tell, though have to see how it plays out yeah?"

Hazel looked around once more at the controls, consistently checking everything was okay before remembering something "Oh, yeah, forgot to add, here's to hoping you don't get blow up again like last time. Wouldn't look good on the bill." Chuckling afterwards at the comment. There wasn't really much to check now, only waiting and with a stealthy insertion on the horizon, Hazel decided to keep her AA munition ready. Oswald's order of "nothing shall pass" reminded her to kick herself after the mission was over as she fully well knew that a simple mistake could have some unforeseen consequences.

 
Suddenly interrupted, Jennifer nodded towards Hazel as the two of them got ready to deploy. Listening to Sarah Nielsen in silence Peyton continued to go over her onboard systems as the lift ascended through the facility. Once Sarah- and Oswald- had concluded their own pre-launch briefing Peyton nodded. "Understood, Mirage out."
Once she and Hazel could resume their conversation Jennifer leaned back in her seat. "We'll deploy, assess the situation and go from there. You might not be built for stealth but I have a feeling you'll be great at direct assault whereas I'm not."

At the mention of the damage she had sustained the last mission Peyton grunted. "Hopefully we won't have any Armageddon timers to deal with this time. If we do, well, let's hope the timer is a bit longer than the one Azata and I had to race against."

 
Episode 3: Operation Grecian HostageFREDRICH-ALEXANDER VON STREUBEN
To some's surprise, he also responds to "Tower-Upright."

The engine had already been whirred to it's top capacity before the launch signal had been given, partially due to his prior episode, but also for practicality. The Emperor, with its greater size, carried greater mass; it would need an extensively more powerful engine reaction to blare its engines and lift the ground. It didn't matter much, however, because as soon as the proud Emperor set foot towards the skies, the elevation it gained under the power of its competent engine was nothing to dismiss. It was the first to take off, and it was the leading entity in the Linker flight headed towards the operations area. Whilst those who view the Emperor in an unfair light would assume he took some morbid satisfaction in this, it mattered little to him. Within his cockpit, and therefore within the machine-mind of this complex goliath, the Emperor was far too pre-occupied with analyzing the soon-to-be battlescape.

The team had not come up with any strategies worth pursuing in their alloted pre-mission timeframe, though he supposed that was to be expected, though it did rub the machine's neurology the wrong way. Nonetheless, if such was the case, which it was, he would simply have to come up with something sensible. The machine's mental image transference pulled up maps, and information, regarding the site, its arteries, and the military police present, through the MAVERICK shared network. All the whilst responding to Malthus' perspective.

"I need a guaranteed full repair payment; the rest is yours. Work it out." the Emperor responded bluntly. He wasn't insane enough to ignore the worst-case scenario, and he needed to be extreme if he wanted to ascend the ladder as per his dream. Though it would be clear to Malthus that the man, or rather, machine, had clearly switched its psychological lense towards 'game time.' It was necessary, whilst Streuben found himself worried at his ease of mental change between one extreme to the other, and anything inbetween, he knew full-well that he needed to perform above standard for this mission to head towards anything other than miserable failure. So would the others he flew with.

Whilst the flight wasn't particularly long, the time the Emperor spent towards tactical analysis lended it a subjectively longer quality. Though just before arrival, he had finally come up with something which played to the strengths he knew of between the three. Though the fact that Janus was a recent addition threw his certainty off by several percentage points. His thoughts began summarizing the concept he had gone over within his own machine-empowered mind, finally representing itself through the synthesized voice of his steel body. His mental neo-german translated for the others to hear in more locally comprehensible language.

"The Military-Police are guaranteed to fail, the Governor has seen to that," it initiated boldly, clearly an attempt at garnering attention from the two Linkers. "The enemy is equally guaranteed to have prepared all manner of defensive networks," it layed out, equally as bluntly, and with the mechanical coldness which a synthetic voice couldn't possibly escape from. It was clear that the Emperor's submerged mind thought in binary. "Because of this, we need to strike fast, and synchronously; not necessarily at the same time, but in a manner where we are aware of each offensive."

"The enemy will likely not blow all the tunnels. It would negate the advantage which the Military-Police discovered they had. The Ersatz."

Network connection was the standardized paradigm which most contractors followed when dealing with MAVERICK, and in cases they didn't, MAVERICK had a nack for stealing it either way. At least according to what the Emperor had learned throughout the training program, the operations center isn't only there to look pretty after all. Though it wasn't perfect, the information the Military-Police had gathered during their negotiations prior to the flight's take-off was still important to consider, and something like an Ersatz is difficult to miss. Even so, the extent of the enemy's force remained unknown, the only thing that the Emperor knew was that respectable anti-NC capabilities were present.

The behemoth's engines were cut thusly, as it drifted amongst the void ahead of every groundbound soldier. The descent was initially gentle, but as the wind-resistance greatened, and the trajectory went from horizontal to vertical, the machine knew it was close to its destination. It fell, gracefully, like a streak of lightning, and the noise of the impact, just outside of the superfreightway's longest tunnel, was the accompanying thunder, though the internal mechanics made an almost impossible accomplishment little more than typical fare.

He had made sure to land a fair distance away from any Military-Police forces, though the emergence of a celestial descent clearly placed awe in those who were spending their deployment in situational panic.

The knees of metal and synthetic polymers raised themselves, as the internal superalloyed torsion suspension unwound itself, producing what can only be described as a scene most picturesque. The Emperor went on to stand proud, towering above all other things around it aside from the moderately cramp tunnel entrance. Though the Emperor wasn't done yet with its tactical suggestions, and having figured out that he might as well have been speaking latin to the less artistically disposed, it extracted the most vital pieces of mission information it had patched together, and threw it out through the Linkers' private channel, just before the Chief-of-Police would speak his piece.

"Vanguard, take the shortest tunnel. Once the enemy initiates, enter and engage, brutally." Whilst the Emperor had a thing for barking out orders, the situation seemed excusable for it to occur without much backlash. No one else had taken the mantle of responsibility, and so, as the primary heir to it, it was naturally fitting that it had gone through the effort it had undertaken to gain it. If at least for this mission, it told itself. "Janus, once Vanguard has gained enough of the enemy's attention, we will enter the superfreightway from the remaining tunnels and charge the train; eliminating anything important whilst we do."

Streuben was no stranger to combat, but the sensations which he felt as he thought about the situation left him with a strange realization. What it was exactly, he didn't have time to explain to himself, nor consider. He simply knew that he was 'present' for exchange to come. "Vanguard, you would be the subject of any planned ambush. You are likely aware of this, however your role in this is vital. You need to attract attention, so that our assault will be easier, and our securing of the hostages becomes a given." The Vanguard would prove a valuable first combatant, whilst its jamming systems were largely irrelevant once the battle ensued, the Emperor came back to the Linker's prior suggestion with renewed acceptance. Vanguard could advance, at least a distance, into the tunnel before the battle would ensue. And what else is better for disorganizing a military force than surprises.

His train of thought was interrupted, though his own briefing had been finalized, by the misguided directives of a senior military official with far too much self-worth for his station. The Emperor would not entertained his self-fulfilling ego with a response, the Chief-of-Police had no warrant for displeasurable vocal behaviour against a transnational entity such as MAVERICK, nor its members. So long as he followed the directives given, he was technically within the green of operational behaviour.

Instead of responding to Petrov, the steel knight's shimmering red gaze scanned the surroundings, littered with an under-payed and under-performing defense force. They had set up a technical checkpoint just beyond the tunnel mouth, two fighting vehicles taking up positions subsumed within a masquerade of imagined protection. The Emperor stepped towards the tunnel's side, so as to ensure any enhanced visors the enemy might have wouldn't give away his presence, or his capabilities. Each step disrupting the already fragile ground surrounding the taxing superfreightway line. No doubt the area had seen many maintenance operations, seeing as it might as well be the only thing that the Governor truly cares about.

Soldiers, or perhaps police-officers, it reckoned the distinction didn't matter, lollygagged around the NC, their body temperature no doubt skyrocketing from the mere emergence of the nigh mythical neural combatants' appearance. They dutifully followed the commander's orders, as evident by the fact that they were actually moving towards a direction, though their presentation, in the Emperor's eyes, left much to be desired. New Europe was a military state which greatly questionable behaviour, though at least it produced a capable defensive entity, with purpose and zeal. The machine-mind didn't consider the possibility of bias, its perspective was both harsh and fair.

A perspective reinforced by the drums of battle. The NC had little else to do beyond remaining still until the self-promised time, its functions effectively cut, and a state of pseudo-hibernation ensued, until its synapses jolted to life under the orchestral backdrop of what could easily be considered a gas leak, though only fools would pursue that particular development for more than moments, considering the circumstances they were in.

Vanguard would play the vanguard for this battle, and he would no doubt engage once the commanding officer gave the green light, which they soon would. All the Emperor could do was raise his assault rifle, load the shoulder-mounted cannon, check the diagnostics for the particle weapon, and prepare the mental commands necessary to swiftly switch to the battle rifle should worse come to worse. Ersatz were capable, though the degree of armaments NCs could field were a step above the pack. He would fight in the battle moment by moment, especially when the availability of his particle cannon was disavowed.

The NC spent the rest of the ensuing moments grasping tightly around the assault rifle, its menacing bayonette speaking a tale for its wielder's submerged brutality, cloaked in fine paints and extravagant markings of noble design. Whilst Streuben remained mentally still, and emerged into the battle, he couldn't help but feel, within his barely conscious thoughts, expectant.

Aldur Aldur , YsFanatic YsFanatic , Windsock Windsock .
 
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Episode 3: Operation Grecian Hostage
Adam reflexively sucked in a breath when the explosion happened before fully linking his mind with the Vanguard's control systems, giving him full control over all aspects of its performance. No sooner did the police chief finish his shouting did the Linker broadcast a simple "Vanguard deploying", almost cutting off the older man. The war machine started lumbering forward, grateful that the police were already moving to get out of the way of his massive feet. As per the plan proposed by Emperor, Adam had his NC raise its rifle even as the jammer came to life. He had every intention of deactivating it as soon as contact was made, but with any luck it would delay detection by at least a few seconds.

For now he'd just focus on running as fast as the Vanguard could manage under the jammer's power drain and hope like hell the other two could get into position in time. The lives of the hostages depended on their success and he didn't want to let them down. If taking the brunt of the enemy attention would help save them, then he'd gladly do it. He just hoped that the ancient saying about no plan surviving contact with the enemy didn't come true here. The innocents trapped in the tunnels couldn't afford it.

Aldur Aldur Malphaestus Malphaestus Windsock Windsock
 
Episode 3, Operation 2C: Broken Tomahawk
The fireteam of two that was sent to the south-eastern coastline were eventually met with an unmistakable, distant outline piercing through the thickened haze, reminiscent of an edge to the landscape on the horizon that was swaddled closely by a thick flora. The Mirage and the Hardpoint both followed orders and began to land, but noted a communique request that was smoothed over with assistance from the resident communication expert back at base.

Just in time, before the requested zone of radio silence, the voice of a wizened woman rung out clearly over the radio. Her voice already painted a picture of a hard-working, dignified sailor.

"Coast-Guard Commander Alina Fischer here. We've surrounded the enemy force from range, we're ready to intercept what forces we can. Sensor link should be incoming."

As expected a sensor link from the nearby Coast Guard forces was offered, showcasing information that the woman began to summarize.

"The enemy force is still at full-strength. Two landing ships, a minimum of ten cruise-missile equipped trucks, six more with powerful anti-air, miscellanious support trucks such as at least two radar vehicles, and an unconfirmed number of direct-combat hover-craft, but believed to be no more than ten."

A pause could be heard by its absence, before she continued: renewed vigour in her voice as it dawned on her that the cavalry she requested was here. "As you can expect... we are not capable of dislodging such an opponent ourselves. That's where you two come in."

"Set the enemy up, then knock them down. Cruise missile trucks are your top priority. Ultimate result to aim for is a failed launch, or a general retreat. Either outcome is acceptable. My suggested course of action is to keep the enemy landing ships alive, so they can have a full retreat, and get the hell off of my coast."

She pinged IFFs for the Linkers to be made aware of, and explained what backup they themselves could rely on.

"We have a string of seven anti-missile systems set in place around the exterior combat zone. We also have various infantry teams and other miscellania to intercept straggling enemies. To help them out, it would be appreciated to disable as many of the secondary targets as possible."

"So, preferable goal is all attacking enemies being terminated, with extreme prejudice against those missile trucks. Take out as many secondary targets as you can, and leave the ships be so the enemy forces retreat instead of being stuck to do geurilla tactics on my coastline. But if you catch everything but the ships, sink those ships too. You got that, Linkers?"

It was a bit complicated, but nothing insane. The main problem would be the worst case scenario of facing the entire enemy force at once or alerting them to launch early. So, the best course of action is to find a way to take out as many of the enemy (or their ability to fight) in one shot, then mop up the survivors ASAP. At least, that looked like the first intuitive solution.

The environment was "mediocre", but certainly not unworkable. Already the ground was teeming with strange, but oddly beautiful post-disaster flora that got thicker as the vine-trees and busheries got closer to a major source of water, even if it happened to be salty. It was almost like a rain forest in miniature, with the role of large trees being taken by lazily arcing trunks covered in symbiotic vine-moss. They were like large, soft-wooden harps draped with thick blankets of secondary plantlife. Of course, these post-disaster mutants (or descandants of entirely artificial lifeforms) were flanked by regular palm trees and the like, as the entire coastline almost resembled the average beach, if it was drawn on by several five year olds. Plenty of biologists were still wondering how this strange ecosystem worked, fed directly from the salted sea.

From the Linkers' perspective, it was almost like a setting from a science-fiction film, where a daring crew crashlands on a strange alien world. The recent fog certainly enhanced the effect, making it look as if bug-eyed alien monsters could pop out at any moment from anywhere in the thick foliage.

Still, the coastal forest was so thick, and just tall enough that even an NC could hide in it if they were careful, especially if it was a unit built for stealth like the Mirage. The Mirage would likely have to act like a guide, a native to this strange alien world leading the foreign Hardpoint through it to reach their mutual objective with haste and privacy.

If this was a horror movie, they'd be the monsters. Still, the alien monster has to be careful of the humans, and couldn't rely on the trees for actual protection when the humans happened to bring along heavy artillery, hover tanks and rapid-fire anti aircraft cannons.

How would these monsters stalk their prey?

Viper Actual Viper Actual
SkyHawk MK III SkyHawk MK III

we predators now bois
 
Episode 3, Operation 2A: Grecian Hostage
The Vanguard promptly maneuvered through the shortest available tunnel, and quickly realized how cramped the situation truly was, being forced to lean downwards as a portion of the secondary constricted vertically. The NC wasn't forced to crouch, but it was still an awkward way to maneuver, and made the Vanguard an easy target in the moment, unable to truly dodge as normal. As soon as the short tunnel started to merge with the main intersection again, the Sons were quick to act on this and an Ersatz sprinted into view, quickly stopping on its heels and spinning its upper body towards the Vanguard.

Not even bothering with a firing solution, the Ersatz-Neural Combatant began firing both arm weapons, two spinning autocannons firing full-caliber armor-piercing ammunition. With a stream of casings being spewed from each arm, the Vanguard was impacted in its armored chest by discrete, if not particularly precise volleys of wandering fire, the wide-bore rounds penetrating skin deep but finding it easier to go further and further in as the shot groupings tightened. Vanguard's thick hide was staying true, but as soon as its plating would begin to buckle the heavy rounds would start doing the NC in with an indecent haste.

Complicating the Vanguard's situation even further, not even a second later another presence quickly made itself known: a second Ersatz leaped into view, propelled through the air by its powerful legs. Impacting the far side of the tunnel from Vanguard's perspective, the ENC nearly bungled the parkour-esque wall-cling and pried itself off of the side with a blow from its arm.

Stumbling like a punch-drunk boxer, the ENC still managed to rush through the field of fire of its compatriot, which took the time to disengage and take cover from the Vanguard's direct line of fire, behind its rushing ally.

The rusher extended its right-arm, which it previously used as a crowbar, and the weapon installed ejected a huge casing that fell to the ground as a long, thick spike re-centered itself snugly inside the driving revolver cylinder.

A stake-driver, one to an arm in fact. In an anti-NC context, these were one of the most frequent killers: plunging a pile of ultra-dense material straight into an NC could usually disable one, or worse, in a single lucky shot. And this rushing ENC had two of them. This wasn't looking good.

Still, the Vanguard had the raw strength advantage, likely several times over. If any Linker could figure a way out of this, the Vanguard was as good of an instrument as any. Either way, the next few seconds were going to be quick and painful, for one side or the other.

Meanwhile...
At the main entrance to the tunnel, the Emperor moved along and soon past the main military police force, leading the way in a manner befitting its name.

As the tunnel darkened, the Emperor detected bumps on the train tracks and even on the walls in an area that was temporarily ceded to the Sons of Zeus earlier that day. A quick analysis revealed they were landmines, a lot of them: situated all about the tunnel. These appeared to be large-scale, anti tank mines: and they were set in a pattern that extended for a whole section of the artery. Just looking at it, it seemed like if even one was tripped, the whole section of the tunnel might collapse sympathetically.

The ceiling seemed free, though. The Emperor could simply fly above and over them if it was very careful and tucked itself close to the ceiling, but the main bulk of the Military Police would be left behind. They'd have to circle back around if another solution couldn't be found. Maybe Malthus could offer something? Or maybe it'd be better to keep the Military Police out of it, anyway.

On the same text channel as before, Malthus' reply was just as terse to the Emperor's offer of surrender of his own profits. "Don't shoot both your damn feet off. Just focus on mission, we'll figure it out afterwards."

Meanwhile...
Outside, the final tunnel seemed to be free and open: perhaps relatively unguarded? The Janus would evidently have a simple time, as the Vanguard was already in the heat of battle if the sensor-link wasn't lying.

To anybody who peered in, the tunnel was eerie in its quiet stillness: almost certainly unwatched and forgotten as the battle further in raged on. Still, the sound of a fighting commotion could be faintly heard as soon as it was entered.

For Richard, a communications from the maintenance team was forwarded.

"Uhh, this is Maintenance again, we're detecting strange thermal readings. Small, but there. Popping on and off. Those power armor troopers moving around maybe? Remind everyone to keep an eye out, all around. Could be anywhere. Sent over maintenance tunnel diagrams. That's all for now, Maintenance out."

And, simple as that, blueprints for the maintrnance tunnels found themselves in Richard's possession, ready to be sent out further.


Malphaestus Malphaestus
YsFanatic YsFanatic
Aldur Aldur
 
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Episode 3b: Upgrades, People! Upgrades!Cammy double-checked she was as firmly strapped in as possible, ratcheting the straps until they dug into her flight suit. The controls felt right in her hands. The pedals felt right underfoot. Raijin's cockpit bathed her in an all-encompassing darkness, with only the dim red glow of emergency lighting as the hydraulic locks hummed into place, sealing her inside the machine's mind. A moment later, the neural link activated and the viewscreens glowed to life, though they only displayed black for now, as the machine's reactor hummed to operating capacity, sealing her mind into the machine's mind just as her body was enwombed in its own body.

"Showtime," Cammy muttered to herself.

The familiar embrace of tactile feel and synthetic sensory relay melded into a unified whole. She was both here and not here. A physical being in a physical shell, but also a mental entity in a neural construct. Mind and metal, harmonizing as one. She designed Raijin to be a perfect balance of both and was proud to see that the balance had not shifted as her seat time increased. The 'experts' told her the neural link would grow stronger over time as she piloted this machine more and more. She would feel the controls in her hands less. She would feel the harnesses and straps less. She would no longer gaze at the viewscreens, but would see with her mind's eye. Her physical senses would fade away, replaced by what the machine's inputs gave her.

Thankfully, they were wrong. So very wrong. Day after day, she sharpened both sides of the blade and polished them to a mirror shine.

The wraparound viewscreens flickered to life, displaying what Raijin's optics picked up, as well as a rudimentary HUD, displaying various metrics and data. A small blue box in the corner blinked 'CONNECTING... CONNECTING... CONNECTING...' and Cammy was quite sure Halliwell would appear there shortly. She was slightly surprised when Griggs's face appeared instead. If Elena Halliwell represented idealized beauty, Marcus Griggs was... well, not. 'Ugly' wasn't quite the word Cammy would use, but the man looked somewhat like a gorilla and was built like one, too, about as wide as he was tall and looked like he could benchpress a city bus for fun. But, as the leader of her maintenance crew, she wasn't entirely caught off guard by his presence, even if he wasn't quite the one she was expecting.

"Yo, Cam," the man said, his voice sounding like he'd swallowed a bucket of rusty nails. If the rumors were true, he probably did three times a day. "Got a few things to cover before you launch. Gonna make this quick."

"Lay it on me, big guy," Cammy said, very aware of the time.

He seemed to be filming himself with a handheld camera of some sort. In his other hand, he held a small box, an electronic device of some sort with a red light on it. He shifted the camera from his face to the device. "We outfitted your HE shells with an old trick I learned in my Denver Vegas days. They make kits that'll do this, but ain't nobody got time for that, so we came up with a quick and dirty workaround that'll remotely detonate any standard warhead. Look at me, Cam. Down here."

For a moment, she wasn't sure what he meant --I'm already looking at you, stupid-- but she quickly realized he was on the hangar floor, at Raijin's feet. Even though she was watching him on video, she wasn't looking at him. The NC's head craned down, so she could see him directly. She noticed the box's light turned green when she did so. Whatever that device was, it responded to the NC's line of sight. It must have taken some clever programming to sort that out and on such short notice.

"Good, now squeeze your right trigger," Griggs said, holding the box at arm's length, as if it might maul his face off at any moment. When she did, there was a sharp 'pop' and a metal spike ejected from the box's base. Cammy had seen them affixing these devices to the nose cones of her HE shells. It didn't take a genius to see what it does.

"Niiiiice. It worked! These are actually used to blow open the emergency hatch on most tanks. It'll punch the bolt right outta the hinges," Griggs said as he set the camera down and used both hands to shove the spike back in, resetting the device. He grunted with the effort, his massive arms straining against his jumpsuit until, at last, it clicked into place. He breathed a sigh of relief and returned his attention to the camera. "We used to use laser detonators back in my day, but Fitz figured out the NC's optics could do the same. As long as you have line-of-sight on the round, you can detonate it. But it doesn't have infinite range so..."

"Got it," Cammy said, slowly nodding. She could read the worry on his face. On one hand, this mod allowed her to airburst her artillery, to take down aerial targets. On the other hand, if she let one get out of range, that meant a live artillery shell could land god-only-knows where. Firing at such a high angle, there was no telling how far it might travel if she failed to detonate it in time.

During the first mission, she barely used Raijin's artillery as real artillery. She mostly fired straight at the enemies in front of her, often at uncomfortably close ranges. Due to his background in the mechanized infantry, Griggs was smart to remind her just how dangerous those cannons could be. This mod wasn't just here to make her effective against the aerial drones; it was also safeguard against lobbing a shell into the next county. Because no amount of public-relations wizardly from Halliwell could save Azata if she dropped a live round on a church or school or hospital or home, miles away from the battlefield.

Well, shit.

"Thanks, I appreciate it," she said a moment later, once she digested all of this information.

"You know we got your back," Griggs said. "Give my regards to Slyidina. Fitz said the new hardware made programming this a lot easier."

"Right," Cammy said with a small laugh.
 
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Episode 3, Operation 2A: Grecian Hostage
Cursing at the combination of the unexpectedly swift response by the enemy as well as the sensations he felt from the damage the Vanguard's thick hide was taking, Adam nevertheless responded quickly. Disabling the now useless jammer, the Linker had his machine lumber forward with renewed energy and as it rose to its full height the NC's heavy rifle was aimed at the more lethal foe. Toggling to the rifle's highest rate of fire, he unleashed a withering storm of projectiles at the Walker with the hope of quickly killing it, or at least slowing it down enough where he'd have time to respond when it got in close.

The Vanguard's stable body managed to trudge forwards and ignore the superficial damage, blasting round after round into the rushing enemy before it could even impact the NC. Each shot after the first finding purchase, the charging INACHI was itself quickly failing to the repeated blows, full-sized rifle shells slamming into the walker with ease.

Still, the pilot was either too stupid or too brave: and managed to get in range for a single punch, working with the failing mech's momentum to swing a right-hook with the stake and ready to pull the trigger as soon as the stake registered an impact.

Unfortunately for the INACHI pilot, Adam was used to adapting to unexpected situations, at least in video games. While this was not quite the same, in how games didn't involve a fear of getting killed or causing the deaths of others for one thing, it did allow the wheelchair-bound Linker to react in time. While there was no way he could move the Vanguard out of the way, he was able bring up the Precision Rifle like a shield to take the blow for him. The metal spike punctured through the weapon with ease, bits of metal and numerous rounds bursted forth from the rifle in a shower that rained over the NC's metal hide. But the plan worked, the spike was stopped scant inches from the Vanguard's armor plating.

A fresh jolt of fear tore through Adam's true nerves when he realized just how close he had come to his NC suffering major damage or even worse, fear that soon transformed into anger and a desire to make the enemy experience the same fear he had just felt. "You stupid fucker," he growled, the Vanguard's systems reacting to his anger to change his voice into something inhuman, possibly monstrous, as it broadcasted from the external loudspeakers. Synthetic myomer fibre-bundles surged with power as he shoved the broken weapon, and thus the walker's offending arm off to the side. Taking a step forward he reached out and grabbed each of the INACHI's arms and began pulling them away from the body, the sound of straining metal soon filling the tunnel.

As the Vanguard's weapon was sacrificed, the enemy pilot's initial relief turned to a subdued sense of panic as he realized it wasn't a killing blow: a struggle to prepare the second driver was fruitless as the full-scale NC grabbed that arm, and soon the other. A roar of dismissal from the Linker in command of the beast rung out, alongside a plea borne by radio from the INACHI pilot. A panicked firing of the second stake merely impacted the tunnel wall, poking into it and causing a small amount of rubble and dirt to explode out before the INACHI was finally rendered deadly still between the Vanguard's closing arms. Both of the bird-lime legs struggling underneath as the whole unit was slightly raised, a sound of a distressingly slow metal fatigue reverberated out through the breadth of the tunnels.

All too suddenly, the INACHI was nearly ripped in half from the top, the Vanguard using all of its prodigious strength to roughly tear out the supporting tech attached to each limb's socmet. Fidgeting uncontrollably, the INACHI fell to the ground on its back and slumped over, disabled, small fires and electrical arcs dying out quickly as it impacted the ground with a surprisingly quick thud. The pilot was likely alive, but the mech itself was rendered useless, judging by the important looking bits and piecds dragging behind each dislocated limb and the dying spasms of movement.

With the Vanguard holding the metaphorical guts of its compatriot in each arm, the Neural Combatant nearly looked demonic to the remaining enemy pilot, who quickly attempted to back up from the scene, using only one arm to fire a thin volley as it attempted to turn itself for a full sprint out of the intersection.

Meanwhile inside the NC, Adam was momentarily struck speechless at what had just happened. He had expected just to damage the shoulder joints enough to disable the INACHI's offensive ability, not to rip it into pieces. Clearly he didn't know the Vanguard's strength as well as he should have. This moment of surprise abruptly ended with the pain of more bullets slamming into his armor again, snapping Adam back to reality.

Still holding onto the arms and the various bits of tech still attached to them, he raised the wreckage up as an impromptu shield to block at least some of the bullets even as a distinct whine was generated by his legs' hover system. While the acceleration was slower than simply running, the higher top speed it granted the Vanguard meant that it was only a matter of time before he caught up with the enemy walker, and as he drew closer the Linker twisted the NC's torso to bring the left shoulder forward. With any luck he'd be able to shove the remaining INACHI aside and then be able to scoot past towards the mission objective. Worse case, it'd turn into a close quarters slugging match, and he had already seen how well that would turn out for them.

As the mass of the NC threw itself forwards by way of thrust on a thickening cushion of air, the INACHI walker hardly managed to start and sprint away before the Vanguard smashed into it like an oversized battering ram: entering the main line of the intersection as it did so.

With the upper body of the walker crunching at the impact in the same way a tin can would meet a lead hammer, the best the enemy pilot could've hoped for was one hell of a concussion, as the smaller mech impacted the far wall. Between the mechanically reinforced rock-wall and a hard place, the Ersatz, still online, nonetheless slumped down like a puppet whose strings were cut as soon as the Vanguard tore itself away from the compacted war-machine.

Immediately, the dark surroundings of the main tunnel were lit up by small, independent cones of light: brightening up the Vanguard from behind on both sides. Shortly thereafter, a swarm of bullets akin to venomless ant bites peppered anything that looked important on the Vanguard's back, damaging absolutely nothing on their own but being a bit more than annoying.

Turning about, the Vanguard would see several openings from maintenance causeways on the other wall of the main artery, alongside some actual heat signatures worthy of the Linker's attention: identified automatically as power armor troopers, most likely, though the computer couldn't pick a model it could immediately recognize. Both teams stopped moving as they swapped spots with the actual infantry on-site, who retreated back to the maintenance tunnels to let the exo-troopers do their business, which they promptly started. One of the two groups fired rockets at the Neural Combatant in front of them, letting the other team set up.

Knowing that he couldn't let himself get bogged down dealing with these troopers, since they after all could be just trying to buy time for their friends, Adam decided to just give them some incentive to leave him alone before he moved on. While he felt the explosions from the thermobaric rockets damage more of his armor plating, the heavy rockets were effectively declawed in the expanded space, against such a hard target: merely bumping up to woozying bee stings that left easily ignored welts. The Linker decided to ignore them in favor of the ones that hadn't fired yet. Raising the limb held in the Vanguard's right hand, he then whipped it forward in a throwing motion, sending the arm flying towards the exoskeleton-equipped troopers that were still getting ready to attack. It didn't matter if it hit or not, he simply wanted them distracted as he set the NC onwards to the last known location of the hostages. As Vanguard moved it drew its sidearm and prepped it to fire as it was obvious that he going to need every tool available to him before the day was over. Still dragging a dislocated limb behind him, he was pleased with the fact his NC's sensors reported a dispersal of the enemy, back into the maintenance tunnels where they then dissipated into the ether.

I definitely got their attention, I hope this is letting the others get into position as planned.


Malphaestus Malphaestus
Aldur Aldur
Windsock Windsock

Collaboration by Windsock and Ysfanatic, final editing done by Windsock.
 
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Episode 3The struggling pump’s cries for help finally ceased, and it did not explode as anticipated by some of the crew. An almost collective sigh of relief was had, one staff member comically wiping sweat off his brow. “Okay boys, that completes the checks! Get over here, Niko! Samaritan is ready!”

“Oh, sweet!” Niko gave a thumbs up as he approached, receiving a brief, mostly unimportant commentary on the machine, and how they were going to have to look into getting a stronger pump. With a nod of acknowledgement and a wave goodbye, Niko wasted no further time in boarding the NC. Preflight checks were run, mounts were functional, sensors were fine, and the launch went perfectly. Shortly after launch, a ping alerted him to his HUD. He'd expected it to be an unknown unit, but it was far from it. Apparently some sort of compact bike had been implemented, given there was a pop-up in the top left of his HUD displaying how to properly use it. ‘For use after emergency landings… Cool.’ He thought, though he did not look forward to having to use it in any case. After all, that was implying something went wrong.

In the air and awaiting any further information about their mission, Niko quietly hummed to himself. He had no idea what the origin of this tune was… But it stood out to him. To the point of nearly causing the whole NC to dance, but he kept it down to a waggle here and there. How he planned to deal with potentially flight capable enemies with more or less a sword and expired flex seal was anyone's guess, but he didn't sweat it for the moment. 'These tools are for saving whenever possible, even if everyone else laughs at it.' He reminded himself of just why he had taken up these weapons over anything else, steeling his resolve for the upcoming encounter.


"I really should paint you after this..." He said, speaking to the Samaritan itself. Not that he'd get a reply.

AnonyMouse AnonyMouse
 
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