Ryosuke’s bellow shocks you back to reality. The world seems to stop all around you as Ryosuke’s cries out in despair and defiance, reaching for the credit tab, completing its arc in mid-air. You wince as you watch your friend leap into a diving save, the scene unfurling as if in slow motion, his body twisting and twirling in an odd serpentine fashiont, grabbing the offending item in mid-air with a righteous spin, followed by the triumphant raising of the object …

Before landing back in the lake with a large splash, the only thing visible from the results of the impact his raised arm, holding the tab up like some sort of torch.

‘So,’ Emilio begins nonchalantly, ‘tell me again … how he’s meant to be the deadliest hand-to-hand combatant on Academy grounds right now?’

>[Gesture to Ryosuke as if the answer is too obvious for words]
>‘Look what he puts himself through. If your body doesn’t evolve out of sheer necessity from that …’
>‘Because he’s broken the arms and legs of two other guys in our year?’
>‘You’ve got better eyes than I do, Emilio.’
>[Shrug]
>Write-In

>>2467356
>>‘Look what he puts himself through. If your body doesn’t evolve out of sheer necessity from that …’

>>2467356
>>‘Look what he puts himself through. If your body doesn’t evolve out of sheer necessity from that …’

>>2467356
>Look what he puts himself through. If your body doesn’t evolve out of sheer necessity from that …’

>>2467356
>‘Look what he puts himself through. If your body doesn’t evolve out of sheer necessity from that …’

>>2467356
>>‘Look what he puts himself through. If your body doesn’t evolve out of sheer necessity from that …’

File: Sanza 2.png (800 KB, 960x783)

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You throw a hand in a gesture to your half-drowned friend, lying in the shallows of the lake in a manner that reminded you of those strange mammals that the ocean worlds had—no, not whales—seals! Yes, seals. The answer was obvious, really. You didn’t even need to flip a coin to come to a proper conclusion in regards to the query. Not where Ryosuke was concerned.

‘Look what he puts himself through,’ you let out, shaking your head. Amusement and disapproval melded themselves into one being as the words left your mouth. ‘I’d be surprised if anyone’s body doesn’t evolve out of sheer necessity from that …’

‘True,’ Emilio agrees, crossing his arms as the both of you watch Ryosuke’s stiff form, the latter’s hand reaching out of the water but his body remaining half-submerged. He didn’t appear to be keen on getting up and out … until he does.

You’re quite sure that his thighs were way too close to be comfortable in that mode of locomotion … but then again, it was Ryosuke. His knees occasionally clattered as he made his way back to the group, one hand raised to keep his credit tab from being further damaged—and losing all access to any money he’d saved up for this very day—while the other appeared to be in an odd place between his thighs, stretching all the way between his cheeks and his fingers peeking out between the gap.

No one was willing to ask.

So you did.

‘Ryosuke?’

‘I … ripped my pants.’

Sanza sighed.

Emilio rolled his eyes … before taking a step forward and grabbing him by his arm, dragging him down the pathway.

‘Emilio?’

‘We’ll meet you guys at the station,’ he declares, before turning back to the embarrassed man hanging from his grip. ‘Come on, you …’

‘Hey, come on, man, be gentle! I’m brittle, you know?’

You can’t help but chuckle watching their retreating backs … before realizing that you’re not quite so alone in your amusement. You turn to your only remaining companion, sporting a fond smile as she gazed at the same sight you had … but fondness didn’t seem like the only thing that was etched in her smile. There was a weird sort of … longing, you supposed? A hint of defeat, some tenderness … an emotion that you aren’t quite able to put into words—no, not put into words. A jumble of emotions that you can’t tell from the other. Happiness; fondness; melancholy; amusement … all melded into one upturn of her lips, watching the backs of your two bickering friends, acting out a scene that was more akin to a father chastising his misbehaving child.

‘That’s going to be a sight that I’m going to have to start accepting soon …’

>‘Well, I think we’ve dealt with Ryosuke enough to move way past accept, really …’
>‘What’re you talking about?’
>‘It’s just one of those days, right? We’re still on, aren’t we?’
>[Stay silent]
>Write-In

>>2467476
>>‘It’s just one of those days, right? We’re still on, aren’t we?’

>>2467476
>>‘Well, I think we’ve dealt with Ryosuke enough to move way past accept, really …’

>>2467476
>‘It’s just one of those days, right? We’re still on, aren’t we?’

>>2467476
>>‘Well, I think we’ve dealt with Ryosuke enough to move way past accept, really …’

>>2467476
>It’s just one of those days, right? We’re still on, aren’t we?

>>2467476
>>‘It’s just one of those days, right? We’re still on, aren’t we?’

File: Sanza.jpg (186 KB, 850x1039)

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You shrug, rolling your shoulders as you turn to your only remaining companion.

‘It’s just one of those days,’ you let out evenly, offering a reassuring smile. ‘We’re still on for today … might as well make the most of it, right?’

To your surprise, she lets out a chuckle A wry one, but a chuckle nonetheless.

‘That’s not what I’m talking about,’ she playfully correct you, turning her gaze back to the distantly-retreating backs of your friends, who proceed to disappear behind a pair of abstract statues. ‘I’m talking about … us going our own ways.’

You raise an eyebrow. That would be about … sixteen standard months off, wouldn’t it? Why would she even bring that up now? You could barely make it through an evaluation session with Fisher or a training revision with Wray. You hadn’t even bothered to think what would happen once you stepped out with your badge and beret.

‘Next year, we’re going to be getting our assignments,’ she elaborates further, her voice a little more gentle than what you’re used to hearing from her. ‘All of us have our roads set out, don’t we? North, East, West and South. Backs to each other, never looking back. It’s a little premature, I guess, but I … now that I think about it … would it be childish to say that when it comes to say goodbye, that I don’t want to?’

She wears that wry smile once more, turning her head downward.

‘Stupid …’

>‘I’m going to miss you too, Sanza.’ (Honest)
>‘You can’t help how you feel.’ (Redirect)
>‘Honestly, I thought you’d be dancing at not having to babysit our asses for another four years.’ (Make light)
>‘We didn’t sign on to be friends forever. We signed on to be of service to the Empire.’ (Professional)
>[Stay Silent]
>Write-In

>>2467610
>>‘I’m going to miss you too, Sanza.’ (Honest)

>>2467610
>>‘I’m going to miss you too, Sanza.’ (Honest)

>>2467610
>‘I’m going to miss you too, Sanza.’ (Honest)

>>2467610
>>‘I’m going to miss you too, Sanza.’ (Honest)

>>2467610
>‘I’m going to miss you too, Sanza.’ (Honest)

File: Piano.jpg (36 KB, 225x350)

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She doesn’t even bother to hide it now. Sanza’s face is … tired; her face is marked with age that betrayed her youth. She had always been more mature; more so than you, Emilio and Ryosuke combined. You don’t deny that you would have lost your grip on your own sleep cycle if she hadn’t been around to give you that nudge or drag you back your bed … but then again, it wasn’t as if she was exempt from the cycle herself. You and Ryosuke had had more than just one call from one of her instructors to drag her away from her desk and shove and tuck her between the sheets. If you were being honest, that wasn’t something that you’d miss.

No, that would be dishonest, wouldn’t it?

As much as you tried to deny it … you would. You’d miss sneaking in some of Emilio’s premium hot chocolate and leaving a message that dealt something resembling a warning to keep a lock on his belongings. You’d miss Ryosuke slamming you on the mat before picking you up again … and slamming you down again with a sweep and a pivot. It was hard to think about now … which was strange, because back on the fleet, this kind of attachment was …

You’d never had it, really.

Everything was routine, everything constant.

Same faces, same corridors, same lights.

Different stars, but everything followed a set pattern.

In less than two years, it would be gone. Memories; fond, painful … and mere recollections of a past that allowed you to forge ahead.

So you say what you can say now, for fear of not being able to later.

‘I’m going to miss you too, Sanza.’

She huffs, crossing her arms and looking away, ever the mule. ‘Just what are you saying, Senpai!’

You blink, staring at her.

What?

‘What?’

‘Did you just, uh … call me Senpai?’

When did the day get so hot?

Sanza looks at you with a puzzled expression; as if you had grown a tumour out of your eyes.

‘No, why would I call you Senpai!’

She speaks in a voice that isn't her own, the heat in your ears rising as you feel your shoulders buckling.

You knew that voice.

You knew that voice.

>Write-In

>>2467661
>Rosaria?
>WAKE THE HELL UP

>>2467661
>A near death flashback?

>>2467661
>Rosaria?
>Your not Sanza, Where am I?

>>2467661
>Rosaria?

>>2467661
>Wake yo fat ass up.

File: Rosaria Again.jpg (123 KB, 850x1262)

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No, no. This couldn’t be happening now.

Because this had happened more than a year ago.

A hot sensation practically scalds your face as the world seems to, not just fade, but melt away. Aching pains shoot up your thighs, upper back and upper arms, the heat now spreading from your face to your neck. It was harder to breathe now. You fall to your knees in the nothingness as a sharp pain strikes itself across your temple. The melted world swirls around you, a frightening mesh of colour and chaos. Your elbows hurt. Your back hurts. You can’t feel your legs now. Your eyes feel like they’re burning. You need air, air … air that you need to speak. It all comes to you at once; or at least, a vague understanding of what the now is; what the past was.

You cough out her name … and find yourself diving into the white light in the centre of all that turmoil.

‘Rosaria?’

You catapult yourself into a stand, your whole body aching and your face feeling hot, stiff, sticky. Everything is grey and orange, red and black. You can’t hear a word. The ringing, the agonizing, continuous sound, has you off-balance. Sharp pains are everywhere on your body. It’s like you’d tried to kiss an Emperor-commissioned Cruiser breaking atmosphere.

With the return of your senses—and your memory—returns, however, you realize just how close to the truth that statement is. Rosaria cries out as she throws herself over you; not from comfort, but from the surprise caused by the explosion over the rubble. You weren’t buried; you were on what appeared to be a broken off piece of the platform you had been on when that …

When that ODF-assigned ship crashed through the hangar.

It all comes back to you.

Rhysode was under siege.

The sirens were still on, dull and slightly drowned out by the continuous sound of shrieking, falling metal and explosions. You can even make out a voice announcing over the comms for civilians to head for shelter, for personnel to initiate response protocols. It’s hard to breathe, hard to see … it’s like shadow and light had mated and produced offspring with the scent of metal. The ground shakes under your form, prompting you to try and push yourself off … until your realize who was draped over you, her face covered in soot, her uniform torn and holding by threads and her elbows and forearms chequered with cuts deep and fine … along with a displaced nail.

‘You’re alive!’

She embraces you, bawling her eyes out. You wince in pain; despite her injuries, she was still in operating condition.

Taking inventory, you realize that despite the intense heat and the pain in your hips, your realize that you were, too.

‘Senpai, everyone’s …’

>‘What happened?’
>‘Where’s Fisk?’
>‘Where’s Fisher.’
>‘How long was I out?’
>‘Come on, we gotta get out of here.
>‘Let’s find who we can.’
>Write-In

>>2467945
>‘Come on, we gotta get out of here.

>>2467945
>>‘Come on, we gotta get out of here.

>>2467945
>>‘Come on, we gotta get out of here.

>>2467950
>>2467953
>>2467958
Oh well, it's not as if I expected you guys to do the in-character thing anyway. Say goodbye to certain bonuses.

>>2467950
>>2467953
>>2467958
Honestly, I don't even get why you guys chose Protector as your Persona. I'm just going to put it out there. I'm going to have to reconcile you wanting to book it and abandoning everyone with your in-Mech Persona/Skillset of being a Knight in Shining Armor/Barbarian Tank.

>>2467962
>>2467963
In first aid training, you're always advised to make sure that you yourself won't come to harm before attending to any victims.

Similarly, while we /appear/ at a glance to both be in functioning condition right now, we literally just had a near-death flashback and probably suffered a serious blow to the head. The sensible thing to do - and the thing we'd likely have been instructed to do if we ever trained for a similar scenario - would be to go somewhere nearby that's not actually on fire to take stock of ourselves and the situation first before blindly attempting to rescue anyone in a panic.

Also, if it's not something you're prepared to write, why even list it as an option?

>>2467976
I am prepared to write it. The problem is now that I'm going to have to write in in a manner that MAKES SENSE. Also because I left in-character options and it'd be rail-fucking-roading if I so much as didn't give you the option to do as you please. Thing is, I'm a GM. I'd rather lure you into elaborate death traps than have you sabotage yourselves as your owns stupidity. That's my burden. I'm prepared for it. I just didn't see that you guys would willingly choose an option that would make my life more difficult than it should be

>>2467950
>>2467953
>>2467958
Just a reminder for myself that these three are taking an OOC penalty for your PC. I might have to put penalties to stats if certain actions violate precedent to echo choice actually mattering. In this case, your Mech Persona: Protector being veto-ed for the sake of just leaving without even a thought to the others who were in your company.

I usually don't mind, but these kind of things only make it harder for me to write up a proper resolution, considering previous choices. It takes longer to write.

File: Rosaria The Runaway.jpg (261 KB, 850x1471)

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The first thing on your mind is to leave. This place was about to come down and there was no way that you were going to contemplate staying here for another second. You had to leave. You were surrounded by the burning hulls of demolished ships. You were trapped in a hangar more than a mile long and chances were that there wouldn’t be much time left on the clock until something made contact with Ether and caused a worse chain reaction. You didn’t want to be anywhere near ignited, compressed Ether … and here you were, surrounded by the potential of it. You have to get out of her. You had to get out of here, or else …

‘Come on, we gotta get out of here,’ you manage. The fumes told you that it was just burning metal structures; you still had time. You still had time.

Your knees creak under your weight; it’s as if you were taking baby steps. Rosaria fares better, practically bouncing onto her feet and looking at you with distress. Your mind fixates on only one objective: that you were alive and you wanted to stay alive … that the person next to you was alive and you wanted to keep it that way. She squeaks as you grab her hand, raising your forearm to shield your blood-soaked vision. She utters something that you can’t hear; you can feel her pull. Around you, everything falls. Everything.

You don’t even think about it.

You need to get somewhere.

‘Senpai!’

There is no life. It’s as though you’re walking through the gates of Hell and …

No. There was no exit.

A piece of one of the ships—or one of the crashing ships—had blockaded you in. It’s only now that you realize just what was going on. The flames were small here, the heat less and the air less thick, but … the whole structure was collapsing on itself. The cargo loading bays were completely cut off by the body of a ship, flipped over and acting as a barrier to the only possible exit. You were boxed in. You were caught in a burning Bay, just waiting for it to fall—

You feel something slip from your hands … and a tug on your arm. You turn down to see Rosaria, staring up at you … not with fear, but with eyes ablaze with what could only be … anger?

‘We have to help everyone! Where are you going?!’

‘We,’ you begin weakly, your form uncertain as you realize that you can now fully hear your own thoughts, ‘we need to get out of here … it’s … it’s dangerous.’

You feel a tight slap fly across your face as Rosaria, for the first time since you had met her … glares at you in fury.

‘Get out of here, then, Senpai … I’m going to see who I can help.’

She turns her back to you, running past the burning crates … and leaving you to your safe spot, away from the flames and the probability of burning Ether.

You were practical. Pragmatic.

This was in-character of you.

You weren’t here to run back into flames to help people …

This was how it was … done.

>Write-In

>>2468011
>go back and help who we can
Always with the salt mech

>>2468011
Try to find Fisher? Or some Bay worker who might know another way out?

>>2468011
I'm going to give you guys your own rope. My job is just to make sense of it. I've resigned myself to this quest dying from a wide net of a lack of player knowledge of previous decisions. I think the choices do make sense for your end, though. Don't get me wrong. Considering how the majority of /qst/ quests are mired in keeping you as practical and mundane as possible, you can't help but just want to be normal and not actually be part of something big. That's probably /qst/'s boner: being a side character just doings stuff.

>>2468011
>Go back and help with whatever you can

Worlds under siege and I missed last vote cause of sleep. Ain't nobody escaping

>>2468011
>Go back and help whatever you can
I go to sleep and I find this mess

>>2468020
If I had been awake for last session and not stuck in work today I would've voted. Such is the suffering of work in bongland. Also, I don't know if ten players counts as the player base.

File: Boom.jpg (19 KB, 320x320)

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You were a coward.

You weren’t being smart; you weren’t being pragmatic. You were being a coward. All those simulations had done nothing to disprove just what you were, deep inside. You were a self-interested coward that just wanted to keep things going for as long as possible, as gently as possible. Without incident, without occurrence. Toph-Lathu was just that: the wool over your eyes to show just what you perceived yourself to be … but would never have the guts or the gumption to even attempt. Morrigan, no … Fisher. Fisher was wrong about you. You were no good man; no one that would stand out. You stood here away from the flames where a woman you’d barely known ran back in without so much as a moment’s hesitation. What you wanted to see yourself as and what you were would never reconcile, never put themselves together.

One of the metal frames fall from above, fire and destruction clattering onto the metal floor in a noise that is almost deafening. Your palms are hot, your eyes are dead … and above you see the descending stars of enemy forces breaking through the day, their siege beginning.

You were a coward.

Were.

You leap into the flames, rolling out of the way as another structure clatters onto the ground. There was no going back. You’d doomed yourself; you’d chosen to dive into fire, foregoing regulation, ignoring precaution … and more than ever, you feel like death was a preferable fate to standing still.

You’d die before you ever considered that again.

‘ROSARIA!’

She couldn’t hear you. In the open sky, you hear faint sounds of explosions. The Watch Commander had been able to organize some degree of resistance with the early warning, minute as it was; for now, it would do. You had to find them; find anyone that you could help. Rosaria is not in your sight. There are bodies, though, many of them. Skewered and cooking; crushed and bloody … you were never a man for prayers, but right now, in this moment …

You hoped there were enough to save.

‘GET OUT OF HERE! GO!’

Fisher. That was Fisher.

You raise an arm up as you duck past a burning crate, your previous haven now in your sights … as well as the sight of Rosaria and Fisk to either side of Fisher … trying to life what looked like a pylon that had fallen upon her person. You quickly jog to Rosaria’s side, prompting a look of surprise from your junior. You don’t pay any heed, your eye resting on Fisher’s fallen form.

Her legs. The pylon—no, the weight of the pylon and the crane resting against it—were firmly locking her crushed legs in place. No time for talk. Just enough for one word.

‘Together!’

It wobbles.

It doesn’t move.

‘GET OUT OF HERE!’

‘Shut up, girl!’ Fisk cries out. ‘Dammit, if only I were younger …’

Around you, the world begins to end …

>‘Fisher, can you turn off your sensory unit? [USE: MEMPHIS’S SPECIALIZED BEAM CUTTER]
>Try again
>Write-In

>>2468110
>Fisher, can you turn off your sensory unit? [USE: MEMPHIS’S SPECIALIZED BEAM CUTTER

>>2468110
>‘Fisher, can you turn off your sensory unit? [USE: MEMPHIS’S SPECIALIZED BEAM CUTTER]

>>2468110
>>‘Fisher, can you turn off your sensory unit? [USE: MEMPHIS’S SPECIALIZED BEAM CUTTER]

>>2468110
>>‘Fisher, can you turn off your sensory unit? [USE: MEMPHIS’S SPECIALIZED BEAM CUTTER]

>>2468110
>Fisher, can you turn off your sensory unit? [USE: MEMPHIS’S SPECIALIZED BEAM CUTTER

File: Morrigan Fisher.jpg (45 KB, 225x350)

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As everything falls around you, you realize that you wouldn’t be able to get this thing to budge. There was at least five tonnes of weight on Fisher’s legs and even with leverage, the most you could do was give it a slight wobble. It had her pinned down; the hangar itself as going to collapse all around you, if not now, then definitely later … but you couldn’t let it end like this. There was an option that you had, but …

‘Fisher, can you turn your sensory unit off?’

Fisk stares at you in surprise. ‘Ensign, what are you—’

You pull out Memphis’s Cutter, igniting the sparkling blade with some well-applied pressure. Rosaria instantly steps away as you step towards her pinned form. Fisher stares at you, fear in her eyes. Despite the blood, the bruises, you can clearly make out the ashen expression on her face, almost reflexively shrinking from you as you approach her with the crackling blade.

She comes to her senses soon enough, however, managing a glance towards her trapped legs.

‘I … I can’t.’

You thought as much.

The sensory units are what simulated her legs in the same manner as regular limbs.

You’d be cutting where her legs met synthetic structure.

With the command to turn off the sensory units, she’d be …

You’d be ripping them off all over again.

Fisk is the first to protest.

‘That’s crazy! With the sensory unit active, it’ll be like cutting off her own leg all over again! She’ll feel inch you dig in! She might even enter shock! You’d be … you’d be killing her yourself! Not to mention … not to mention the leakage! She’ll feel everything!’

Fisher doesn’t answer.

She only looks at you, fear in her eyes.

>‘We’re dead if we stay here anyway. Fisher …’ (Proceed)
>‘Y-You’re right.’ (Hesitate)
>Write-In

>>2468170
Is the cutter capable of cutting through the pylon?

>>2468170
>‘We’re dead if we stay here anyway. Fisher …’ (Proceed)

>>2468177
It could. Industrial, but you can take a chance at trying to do it in under 60 seconds. Yours is meant for things like the insides of Mechs, though. Pylons are robust.

>>2468170
>You can hate me after we get out of here togeather! (Procede)

>>2468187
I see. In that case:
>>2468170
>Try to cut through the pylon.
It's worth a shot.

>>2468170
Are there any mech/heavy vehicle jacks nearby? Or the space age equivalent. We'd only need to lift the pillar a foot or two, tops.

>>2468170
>Try to cut through the pylon

>>2468204
I imagine we're pressed on time, and searching for one might take too much time.

>>2468170
'We're dead if we stay here, and if we leave, we're leaving together. Fisher...' (Proceed).

Also, hold her hand or brace her shoulder, because this isn't going to be pleasant.

>>2468170
>>Try to cut through the pylon.

>>2468170
Changing my vote to:

>Try and cut through the pylon.

File: Fire.jpg (34 KB, 624x351)

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There was no time.

None at all.

‘We’re dead if we stay here anyway,’ you declare, placing a hand on the pylon and nearing her thighs. Her legs were wedged in tight … and hyped up on Adelheid-Stern, there would be no difference between cutting through metal or through bone and meat. Fisk stares at you in incredulity, his outrage at your solution more than apparent.

‘Instructor, bite into this, please!’

You turn to Rosaria, who had relived herself of her shredded and ash-covered top, wringing it into a tight roll and presenting it to Fisher’s frightened features. Her gaze is as fearful, if not more so than Fisher’s had been … whatever your solution, you can only hope that Fisher had it in her to endure. The sound of a shrieking, falling shard from the hangar crashes right next to you, only managing to miss you by mere feet, slicing down onto a stack of body-laden crates like a kitchen knife slicing through vegetables. Luck had been more than kind to you tonight … but you weren’t willing to test its limits.

Not when you could do something about it.

‘We’re dead if we stay here anyway.’

You’re able to tell which part is flesh … and which isn’t.

It doesn’t make it easier.

‘Senpai …’

You can hear her screams.

They’re dull, unfocused, tearful, desperate … and they beg for you to stop. Blue liquid splashes over as the sheathes catches fire from the cut. The alloy melts away with added pressure and length, your hand pressing down on her bottom to keep her from kicking. Fisk is right by your side, pressing down on her back to keep her flailing down to a minimum, his own eyes wide in shock. You’re only partway down the first leg when a tube comes free, the heated contents cutting down the back of your hand like a burnt copper … and cutting deep. Gritting your teeth, you bite through the pain. This was nothing. The blue and red of Fisher’s connective substitute becomes visible to you, the compensators springing out and cutting the tips of your fingers, making you hiss in pain. Everything had been super-heated. The system were malfunctioning under pressure and your breach.

The first leg is done.

Her cries don’t dull with the second.

You cause her pain.

You make it hurt.

To save her, you’ll bear it.

Three minutes. Three agonizing minutes … and where Fisher’s legs once were, now stood stumps bleeding red and leaking blue. Her eyes are wide … and so is her mouth. Fisk instantly leaps into action, taking his coat off and tying the stumps of her thighs. She flips herself over, blood and sweat pouring down her face as she stares down at your handiwork, her right hand tightly gripping Rosaria’s as the latter wept, every known emotion in her eyes.

‘We have to get out of—’

>>2468251
Ah shit. I thought it would be oil and other fluids. Not blood, whelp rip teacher

File: Spoiler Image (1.74 MB, 1037x680)

1.74 MB PNG

Something falls.

Rosaria screams.

The last you see of Fisk is the upper platform coming down upon him, inches away from where Fisher had been. Explosions rumble in every imaginable direction, destroying your balance and sending you to the floor. There is no need for flames, no call for elaborate detonation. The vibrations that shook through the hangar must have separated bone from organs … and poison goes into your lungs,. There are no screams. There are no screams left to be heard that hadn’t already been cried out.

It does no good.

Everything seems to fall around you. The crane leaning upon the pylon leans back in, the generator exploding in a shower of flames and metal.

You embrace Rosaria and Fisher as the dust, concrete and steel fly about you. You feel metal and stone scratch and cut the top of your head … using your body as a shield. What little air there was left must surely be all but gone now. Only the bitterness of smoke and the rancid smell of burnt bodies touches your nose as you realize that you had run back for naught; you were now trapped here. Where you could have at least preserved your life … now you would perish being foolhardy. The mathematics of the situation didn’t add to a favourable conclusion by being irrational … and now, in a burning hangar, you would perish.

Dying doing the right thing.

Another platform falls. The partition between the bays nothing to sheer tonnage of mass and metal.

You shield Rosaria and Fisher again … only to feel nothing more than a hot breeze.

Puzzlement—an unfitting emotion—descends upon you as you survey a particularly massive body that had come between you and the destruction of the launch bay partitions. It was large, vaguely humanoid … covered in scratches and dents and chipped paint as its lifeless body laid in a sitting position, it’s red eye glinting in anticipation at the orange flames dancing before it.

The Hellion’s axe falls from its suspended state, its edge cutting through the metal floor of the burning bay, as if waiting for the end …

Or a new beginning

>Write-In

>>2468277
Get into the cockpit

>>2468277
Wait, is the Hellion being piloted and come to save us? Or did it just coincidentally fall in a way that shielded us?

>>2468277
>get into the cockpit with Rosaria and Fisher

>>2468283
The Hellion fell from the partition over with that last explosion. It was already leaning by the side, but that last shockwave flipped the cable and tossed 50 tons your way ... ironically shielding you from it.

>>2468291
Is it possible to fit Rosaria and Fisher in the cockpit?

>>2468277
Whelp let's fly girls, Get in the fucking cockpit shinji

>>2468277
Get in the robot, Shinji

File: when shinji gets in the robot.gif (130 KB, 305x305)

130 KB GIF

>>2468277
>Get into the robot with Rosaria and Fisher.

File: Lady In Red.jpg (534 KB, 933x900)

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There wasn’t much time.

‘Grab the other arm.’

Rosaria doesn’t argue. She does as you say. Fisher cries out in pain as she hooks one arm around your shoulder and the other around. Blood and liquid stain your pants as the tattered cloth of the only thing left of Fisk—his coat—fails keep the substitute circulation system stifled. Fisher doesn’t say a word as you hoist her form towards the waiting Mech. In the distance, you hear another explosion … and the tell-tale fumes of ignited Ether. If the fire didn’t cook you; if the air didn’t suffocate you … then the Ether would poison you. You can’t stay out here for long. The cockpit; you had to get to the cockpit.

Fisher cries out every few steps, the crooks of her elbows constricting around your neck as she relays her pain to you. You can’t comprehend how she feels … never mind going through the same ordeal twice. Your back burns as you three leap past the flames, making it to the groin area of the inactive Mech. There was no way you were going to be able to get up there. Not with Fisher like this.

‘Stay here.’

‘Where are you …’

‘I’m not leaving you here,’ you declare firmly. ‘Trust me.’

You don’t wait for her response. She could screaming at you for all you cared. You climb up the Mech, making your way to the pilot’s pod. Pulling down the access panel, you grab the handle and turn, praying that they hadn’t deactivated even the most basic of functions.

Your prayers are answered.

The pod door falls open, revealing the cockpit.

You don’t waste any time. The fumes were getting stronger. Even the slightest increase was noticeable. You didn’t have much time. The hangar would be ground zero in a matter of minutes, even seconds … and you had to get the three of you out here. You strap yourself to the seat, running a full diagnostic—

WARNING: TERTIARY JOINT LOCK [STRAND D-63] UNRESPONSIVE

‘No …’

‘Senpai!’

No.

Not no.

You weren’t out of options just yet.

Not no.

Never.

You leap out of the cockpit, landing on the Hellion’s lap, almost falling as you make a sprint for the knee. You pull out your cutter, pulling open the metal cover with an almighty tug that almost sends you falling below. No time; there was no time. Your eyes scan the decades-old cables, wildly pulling on the strands, not caring whether you’d be electrocuted or not. You had to find it: you had to find the knot. Robust and resilient as the Hellions were, they needed a good kick once in a while, and this beast wasn’t any different from the rest.

This wasn’t a one-man operation, though.

‘Rosaria!’

‘Senpai!’

You turn down to face her, taking out your own, smaller cutter … and throwing it her way.

‘Get to the foot and open Panel 9,’ you recite, as if right out of a textbook … Fisk’s. There is no time to dwell. You needed her to reconnect so the flow to get the Hellion’s locomotion reactivated; it was all that mattered. ‘Cut it open and get the flow running! Go!’

Rosaria sets down fisher, rushing and picking up the thrown cutter. If there was ever a time for her to prove her eligibility as part of The Aegis, it was now. You tug and undo the knots of the strand, your arm partway in. One wrong slip and you’d lose all of it. You don’t know how long it’d been. Two minutes … three, perhaps … and every second would have you breathing in another scent of burning Ether. The shrieks and cries of metal clashing against metal hits your ears as another bay, another craft, explodes. You undo the knot, hoping Rosaria would be able to do the same on her end. As your bare hands twist the tube and cables into place, a ripple of static course through you, causing you to almost suffocate.

You are corpse, for all intents and purposes.

But it does not matter.

You back into the cockpit, closing the comm pod and running another —

WARNING: TERTIARY JOINT LOCK [STRAND D-63] UNRESPONSIVE

You want to howl, you want to curse …

DIAGNOSTIC COMPLETE
STATUS: GREEN

The audio sensors are the first to activate.

‘SENPAI, I DID IT!’

>Write-In

>>2468790
>tell Rosaria to grab Fisher and lower the Hellions Zakus hand to pick them up and get them into the cockpit

>>2468796
Supporting

>>2468796
Supporting this

File: __zaku_zaku_i_and_zaku_ii(...).jpg (813 KB, 3024x2146)

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You let out a whoop of cheer as the system readout begins in earnest. Orange and green never looked so delectable, so beautiful to you until this present moment. The visual feed activates soon after. You pan it towards the space between the Mech’s legs, where you spy Rosaria, back at Fisher’s side. Slowly adjusting the pedals, the old girl groans with the movement. Out of habit, you run a check on the Mech’s status. Thus far, all systems were active … except for the weapon’s system. The decommissioning crew hadn’t completely wiped out the Mech of its necessities … the movement is clumsy, but manageable. Rosaria stares up at you, clutching Fisher’s prone form as you slowly inch the Mech’s foot onto its sole, prompting her to cover Fisher.

You couldn’t keep them out there for long. You motion the Hellion to take a knee, gently resting the arm against the hot floor. Rosaria doesn’t need you to bark over the comm. She hoists Fisher onto its open palm before clambering on herself.

The alarms go off.

You raise the Mech’s hands in a shielding motion, turning your shoulder away from the flash of the explosion. More debris, more flames … the sensors pick up rising heat and toxicity levels from the burnt Ether. The compound rotted away with contact to oxygen in most cases, but the ones synthesized for space travel were a different beast entirely. The burst of fire licks the Mech’s back and shoulders, but otherwise does little on the note of damage.

She was a good old lady.

Rosaria and Fisher are a little cooked from the burst, but otherwise alive. Fisher looks in pain, but is otherwise breathing.

You had to get them in here.

You turn the knob, opening the hatch and motioning the Hellion’s arms to her torso, bringing it as close as possible to the flat surface of the hatch before pushing the secondary HUD out of the way to help Rosaria and Fisher in. The faint beep of the sensors tells you what you already know by scent. That ignited Ether was already beginning to permeate the air … if it hadn’t already. Fisher hooks her arm around your neck as you fall into the chair, Rosaria scampering in and sitting on a console as the former lays in your arms, breathing heavily. You put the Mech into motion, quickly grabbing the Heat Axe. Your eye on the closed cargo doors.

WEAPON SELECTED: [HEAT AXE]

‘Hang on to something.’

The Hellion wade through flame and torn sheets of alloy as though it was water, the weapons modules allowing you to cut through any low-hanging cranes as you make a charge for the half-hull of the craft that blocked your exit. You don’t think; you don’t pray. As Fisher and Rosaria hold on to you, your eyes glare through the eye of the Hellion, hacking and hacking …

Until it gives.

You grit your teeth as the flashover briefly envelopes the old girl … but otherwise does nothing to the scarred metal titan.

You were outside.

You were sa—

WARNING: HOSTILE RADAR LOCK DETECTED

You’d spoken too soon.

>Write-In

>>2469005
>Haul ass behind something and locate the contact

>>2469005
get to cover

Sorry guys. Have to cut this short. I have to send the car to the shop.

>>2469005
>Get to cover and locate the contact

Just bought some of the worst duck ever. Meat was stretchy, the taste was lacking, the bread was unfitting and the pancakes were soggy. Spent a lot of money and have a case of buyer's regret.

Session in an hour or so.

We need to get in contact with any local friendly command.

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Instincts take over. You instantly RADAR lock tells you that offensive manoeuvres are inevitable. First thing that you have to get focused on is defence. Rosaria hangs on as you align the Hellion with the outer walls of the launch bays, running a full scan of your immediate vicinity. There’s not much to go by, other than the fact that the enemy had been able to get an ID lock on you. You’re not even sure what enemies had made planetfall … only that you knew that you were alone. There were no friendly frequencies to lock on, no chatter on the public channel. You were piloting a mech with a critically-wounded member of personnel that was beginning to sport a fever.

She’s bleeding.

All over the seat and your lap, a mix of fluids artificial and local pour from the fizzling stumps where her prosthetics once stood. She clutches at your chest, delirious and breathing heavily … not saying a word. Above you, the red and green lights alternate, the flashing and blinking warning you of the presence of approaching bodies. Turning on communications tells you nothing … but considering the chaos going on in the sight of the encroaching dawn, you don’t dare risk giving away anything that isn’t on a local channel.

You can’t risk it.

Fisher nuzzles into your chest, her mouth dry and her eyes unfocused.

You can’t be slow, either.

If there was anything around the corner, you had to make it quick. Placing yourself against the wall made it easier to get out of a straight RADAR lock.

That was the theory, anyway.

The [HEAT AXE] is gripped tightly in her hands as you turn on the sensors. The buildings in the vicinity might have given you cover … but if the Mech pilots were as their reputations built them up to be, you knew them to be as wary as you were.

Rosaria doesn’t speak. Her eyes are wide with fear as the outdated OS tries to register the incoming forces.

Friendly? You doubt it.

One thing about the Hellion’s OS is that it never could tell the difference until it got a proper ID.

You see the turret peeking out of the corner, the sensors not yet picking up any measure of the scope and volume of your foe … or foes. It’s barely half a second. You’re too close for bounce theory to come into play. The Hellion is crouched, ready to strike … but there is an uncertainty to the advantage. What was around the corner? Would you even be able to take it out in one strike? The barrel of the cannon shows, inch by inch … a little bit more and they’d know you were there.

You don’t remember any Imperial mech with a gun that big, that robust …

One second …

Two seconds …

Would you be making a mistake, drawing first blood?

Could you afford it?

Rosaria stares at the feed, her eyes wide, fear carved upon every pore upon her face.

>[AXE TO THE FACE]
>Wait
>Attempt to establish communications
>Write-In

>>2470604
>>Write-In
>axe off the damn arm and then ram it
>and then establish comms

>>2470607
works for me

>>2470604
>[AXE TO THE FACE]

We have to go with our gut instinct here. If the MC says there was no Imperial Mech with a gun that big, then that means that this is an enemy mech.

>>2470604

>[AXE TO THE FACE]

>>2470604
Supporting >>2470607

>>2470607
Supporting.

>>2470607
>Take a nap
>Wake up this time just as quest starts running
>Feelsgodman.jpg

Supporting this.

File: Hercules.png (873 KB, 884x865)

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It’s barely a moment in time.

Yet, it feels like … an eternity. You can hear the step the Mech takes … like an encroaching predator trying to look for its prey. That was probably what it felt like, being in the cockpit of a Mech, every single time. There was always a bigger fish out there … and that you were nothing more than a microbe in a universe filled with monsters. You’d almost forgotten what it meant to be a Mech Pilot—no, you’d never forgotten. You’d merely shut out that part. They were champions. They are champions. Where they tread, they inspired wonder and fear; masters of metal titans; bringers of order, death and hope in the same breath. The simulations had never afforded that immersion. It is as monumental a task for you to stay still as it is to breathe …

To turn hunter into hunted.

The boom of the step shows rumbles, revealing a stocky, thick build … and it begins to turn …

You strike.

You don’t know whether you’re lucky.

You don’t know whether they were just careless … overconfident.

It only matters that your axe is singing through the air, its blade crying out for blood as red as its blade. You make contact with its torso, cutting right to the heel of the axe-blade. One of the wires, a few of the tubes … they come loose as you dig it right into the Mech’s body. The Alliance Military symbol burns right into your eye. Your Mech is too close for the guns to have any use. That was one of the things, really … Mechs from Aramis weren’t made for manoeuvrability. They were made for purpose. Loaded with weapons, they resembled tanks and silos with legs more than they ever sniffed what it meant to be a Mech. Practicality, they once echoed, their weapons on hand and their armaments built into their bodies, they were meant to tear and blast without so much as a thought. Complicated systems that discerned targets and beams calibrated to counteract disruptors, their Mech were built for soldiers, for objective.

It’s just too bad the Hellion was a soldier.

She’s a grand old lady. Tough, thick, scarred. She’s not a weapon.

She is your ally.

Your axe digs into the body of the Mech … one you recognize as a Hercules, as it tries in vain to back away. You can feel the arm of the Hellion whine. She’s aged, she’s tired … but she’s still got enough in her to pull back on 70 tons of useless metal. Rosaria closes her eyes, looking away as you continue your work. The Mech tries to fight back, tries to put some distance so its guns can have some use … that its mounted rockets can make some sense of their purpose.

This close, however, it wasn’t a battle.

You give the Mech a vivisection.

Your first kill.

It falls over, lifeless … its pilot ejecting out of the cockpit, 70 tons of war machine now nothing more than junk.

Then you find it’s not alone.

HOSTILES DETECTED WITHIN ARMED RANGE

>ENCOUNTER UNDERWAY

File: Hawkeye.jpg (37 KB, 629x468)

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[MECH ENCYCLOPEDIA]

[YTJ-111 HAWKEYE]

ARMAMENTS:
>DAIMAOU Plasma Cannon x 2 (1 Firing Solution/Reload)
>BOROS Standard Missile Launcher v.2 (4 Firing Solutions) [+3]
>WARPAN Kinetic Shielding (6 Firing Solutions)
>HONDO Beam Disruptor Lv. 2

Attributes:
HP: 5/5
Speed Rating: 3
Ranged Offensive Rating: 4
Melee Offensive Rating: 0
Ranged Defensive Rating: 2
Melee Defensive Rating: 0

>>2470732
You typing something out or do we answer now?

>>2470745
>Current Enemy Count
2 x YTJ-111 Hawkeye
>Commander Present?
N/A

[BATTLE] initiated

Roll for Initiative for 5 of you [1d10: Passing Standard: 5.8].
Modifiers: N/A

Rolled 8 (1d10)

>>2470748

>>2470746
Go here.
>>2470748
This is the battle prompt. You know the drill.

Rolled 6 (1d10)

>>2470748
c'mon dice gods

Rolled 7 (1d10)

>>2470748

Rolled 1 (1d10)

>>2470748

File: 1520138258345.jpg (33 KB, 421x480)

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>>2470758
Well shit, next roll has to be a 7 or higher to hit initiative now and we're up against good ranged mechanical

Here's hoping we have some cover between us and them, because fuck

>>2470760
There's a 4 in 10 chance of that. You can pray, I suppose.

Rolled 2 (1d10)

>>2470745

>>2470763
Better than having no chance, I suppose.

By the way, are the attributes on this Hellion the same as the one from the simulation?

Rolled 1 (1d10)

>>2470748

>>2470773
Yup. Only that the only armament you have is your [HEAT AXE] because of how you ran the simulation.

File: ENEMY MECH DESTROYED.jpg (54 KB, 736x552)

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You recover too slowly.

Luckily, however, they seem to be too intimidated to take you head on, instead choosing to begin manoeuvring around the port to get you on your blind side. They’re a little disjointed, though … disoriented. You don’t stand still either. They still had the advantage. You don’t know what to do now other than hope that luck was still on your side. You surmise that you’d probably taken out their leader, their Commander.

It was a Hell of a first kill.

The RADAR lock was mutual … but a solution hadn’t been found just yet.

You were at an insane disadvantage. It was one thing to go into battle without any backup.

It was another thing to come to terms with the fact that the first day on the job already looked like your last.

>[INPUT ACTION]

>>2470806
Move to take one out while staying in cover as much as possible, I guess

>>2470806
To be sure, are both the enemy mechs trying to flank us from the same direction, or have they split up?

If they have split up, I'll support >>2470814
Close the distance while trying to make use of cover

>>2470816
Don't know. But you took out their Commander, by all assumption, or they wouldn't be more careful in dealing with you.

>>2470814
This

>>2470806
>grab a piece of dead mech to act as a shield/decoy, get in position, toss to make them shoot/dodge, then rush as they're distracted
got to take these guys out quick
if we can use our jump pack to close the distance even better

>>2470839
disregard this, i suck cocks on a daily basis

When you're ready, just put a proper reply out. Or agree with one already made.

>>2470814
Going with this but add stating out of the other unit's front, and rushing when we're close enough to our first target. Can we do a seperate jump pack vote to add to the rush or is that not working?>>2470806

>>2470866
Jump Jets are available, yes. Only in battle do the penalties apply do to their "burst".

>>2470814
Still supporting this, but if we can use the jump jets to rush one of the enemy mechs once we've closed some distance while using cover like >>2470866 is suggesting I'll support that too.

>>2470877
Then I push for jump jet rush to add on to my earlier vote

break time lads, Mech's gotta go get his car from the shop

Okay, I'm back. Sorry about that.

The Port is large. It was meant to house anything from cruisers to starship shuttles. Even with a hole the size of a craft punched right through the hangar, the outer structure seemed unaffected … sturdy. The lanes are clear, the administrative buildings to your right and … Rhysode Alpha twenty miles down. The disadvantage was more than just numerical. These were pilots with years of experience, donning fully-equipped Mechs with a payload enough to decimate anything with a well-placed salvo. There was no doubt that they’d be corralling you into a kill box, high and low … easy pickings. They weren’t about to take you lightly. Not with that statement that you had made in disabling their Commander.

You decide to make a gamble.

It was the open range on one side and you’d only have corners on the other.

You’d chance it.

‘Hang on to something.’

[JUMP JETS DEPLOYED]

You get some two-hundred feet of air, the pillar of smoke obscuring any visuals that you can get. They were crafty. Biding their time, making sure that they hadn’t made their superior’s mistake and ventured alone, even for a moment. Coordination … something that you didn’t have; something that they wouldn’t allow you to reconcile. You needed to get a clear view.

You barely see the beam, grazing right past your Mech’s shoulder.

One more.

Another.

You curse as you drop the jets, crashing onto one of the closed bays … luck on your side again.

What possessed you to jump right out into the open? It was stupid. Foolish.

Your position was elevated … but that meant little now. The most you had was some time. You had to re-engage. Sitting up here did nothing. You needed to get to safety; you needed to get Rosaria and Fisher to a medical unit or a shelter … not get yourself blown out of the sky.

The Ether-fueled smoke must have put some interference on their targeting solutions up there. A clear shot was no more than a guess.

You were lucky.

Damned lucky.

‘SENPAI!’

Go ahead … keep wasting time. Keep being stupid.

>[INPUT ACTION]

>>2471341
>Bug out and try to find friendlies.
We can dogfight after we get Morrigan to a medical team or something.

>>2471347
hell no, not with these guys on us

>>2471341
>get in close and engage the closest target
gotta do this shit fast, i say we got like 4-6 turns before Fisher bleeds out

>>2471347
There are no friendlies and comms are being intercepted. Take out the Mechs to re-establish dominance and re-assess your options.

>>2471354
HINT: You have height and they have no Jump Jets. One good thing that came out of this is that you're on an elevated platform of a port that's nigh-invulnerable. You're lucky that lore-wise Ether signature would scramble targeting Mech-to-Mech.

>>2471360
Well in that case, I'm supporting: >>2471354
Time is of the essence.

>>2471341
>Death from above.

>>2471366
We have no good visual on the enemy because of that Ether-smoke, right? Is there any debris on this platform that we could use to throw and bait out some shots to get an idea of where they are?

>>2471387
You have visual sensors on full capability spectrum. The only thing that's the problem is targeting because signatures are masked with Ether-burned smoke. It's essentially the same as targeting heat seekers but they go into the sun instead. Only this extends to targeting systems with a focus on precision.

>>2471392
In that case, I'll support >>2471354
Drop down as directly as possible on the closest target and make use of our advantage in melee

File: pm7dA.jpg (75 KB, 819x684)

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They won’t get to you up here.

You’re hardly able to do a thing up here either, though. Your method of combat is uncharacteristic, indirect … but with what little you had, there was no use lamenting the lack of firepower. Rosaria was scared and Fisher was dying. The targeting reticle isn’t able to get a pin-point on your enemies, but it mattered little. You’d noticed a significant lack of Jump Jets … and from this high up, you’d effectively disengaged from the range of the LOS capabilities of their Mechs. They must have expected combat on purely flat terrain. The most they could hope was to bring down the mile-long port …

It’s a fuzzy read, but you’re able to get a read on the enemy. One of them, anyway. The other’s probably circling around,, finding a way to hit a pot-shot if you so much as wandered to the edge. You had a mile of metal and a mountain-high pillar of smoke to work with.

You’d have to make it count.

You’re wary that the both of them could be down there. If you cut one down, the other would pop up with a pot shot and that’d be the end of it. Staying up here, however …

It wasn’t an option.

Rosaria hangs on for dear life as you put it to full throttle, round right to a corner and drawing an axe, jumping down …

You had to make this count.

The Hellion’s blade swings down as you fall onto the awaiting Mech. You had to make it.

You had to.

It was you or them.

That was all it was.

>ENCOUNTER UNDERWAY

File: HEAT AXE BITCH.jpg (6 KB, 259x194)

6 KB JPG

WEAPONRY DEPLOYED: [HEAT AXE]
Modifiers:
-Speed Rating: 3 (Maneuverability Formula [3/2]) = NET 1*
Melee Defensive Rating: 0
Melee Range Penalty:-2

Melee Offensive Rating: 1+4

Net Modifier: [+6]

>Roll for Crit

>>2471447
Cont.
>Roll for Crit (NONE) - Opportunistic Strike.

>>2471451
>>Roll for Crit (NONE) - Opportunistic Strike.
what do we roll though?
1d10?

File: Destroyed.gif (997 KB, 500x255)

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YOU HAVE DEALT 6 DAMAGE to FOE 03: HAWKEYE

ENEMY DESTROYED!

>[INPUT ACTION]

>>2471461
alrighty then
>locate the last enemy and take them out before they can make a move

>>2471461
>Locate the last enemy and move to eliminate

>>2471467
Supporting this, the sooner we get into close range the better.

test bump

File: -Bitch wut u say-.jpg (140 KB, 850x427)

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Not much hope, but ... testing.

File: Kaboom2.png (199 KB, 594x334)

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Sparks of exposed wire and components make themselves known on your feed as the Mech wobbles, its frame barely holding the chassis together. It’s off-balance, rigid … one leg rises and the other drags. The compensation systems must have been damaged in your sneak attack. They hadn’t been prepared for up close combat … no, they had. The lack of Jump Jets surmised that they’d surveyed the terrain and geared themselves for a full-on assault. The Hellion’s axe is embedded in its torso.

The heel digs and hooks.

The Mech seemingly collapses on itself toppling into a heap, it’s bent legs crossed.

There was only one left.

And you’re certain that he was going to come at you with everything he had.

>[INPUT ACTION]

>>2472346
>locate the last one and get in close to take it out
gotta do this quick

>>2472346
>Locate the last enemy mech and close in

>>2472346
>Locate the last enemy mech and close in

File: Boom3.jpg (84 KB, 730x1095)

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Open terrain wasn’t an option.

The Hawkeye would brutalize you with range. As confined and childish running around the main complex and the secondary hangars were, it was the only advantage that you had. You weren’t sure if you wanted to chance another Jump Jet activation, either. You’d been damned lucky going back around the corner and ducking by the smoke. You didn’t want to ride your luck … or bet the lives of your two passengers on anything but absolutely certainty.

You ease on the throttle as Fisher shifts in your arms.

She needed help.

She needed it now.

‘Senpai!’

‘I know.’

No time.

No time at all.

Bits and pieces of cement and metal come off as beams come your way. It looked like he wasn’t keen on playing it passive. He was right around the corner, right between two administrative buildings between a stretch of road. The commercial port was right on the other side, which meant there were civilians to his back. You couldn’t drag the fight that way … and a clear field if you dragged the fight too long and allowed him a tactical retreat. You don't know if he was being stupid or overly cautious. Maybe the fact that you'd taken out the rest of his Squadron had him on edge. Maybe he wasn't willing to give you the time. He wasn't willing to let you sneak up and cleave him like you had his comrades.

You peek and juke, again and again, cursing as beam after beam--suppressing fire--comes your way … until it doesn’t.

You weren't a gambling man.

But you needed this over and done with.

You jump out, axe drawn …

And praying you had time.

>[BATTLE RESUMED]
>Roll for Initiative [1d10: Passing Standard: 5.8]
Modifiers: N/A

Rolled 10 (1d10)

>>2472444

Rolled 6 (1d10)

>>2472444

Rolled 3 (1d10)

>>2472444

>>2472346
>Hide and set up an ambush.

Guys they will be ready for us to rush them, and as damaged as we are, that probably won't work. Et them co.e to us.

Rolled 5 (1d10)

>>2472444

>>2472444

File: Two down, one to go.jpg (279 KB, 1024x768)

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Your eye is on the prone Mech.

Going through a weapon cycle, perhaps?

Maybe cooling down its beams after the assault?

You find that it doesn’t matter.

Smoking barrels and loaded missile racks, it’s the Hellion that has her foot forward. It’s shorter than a blink; you don’t even take a breath. Rosaria grips your shoulder as the instruments turn orange, turn yellow … and green. There is but a stretch of road, littered with upturned vehicles and smoking craters … and before you, the Hawkeye stays, the back of its foot rising and falling as it tries to fall back to realign a combat solution.

And the Hellion sings.

>[INPUT ACTION]

>>2472487
>SUCK HEAT AXE MOTHER FUCKER
>right for the cockpit

>>2472487
>Charge in and cleave.

File: Charge.gif (46 KB, 299x297)

46 KB GIF

>>2472489
>>2472499
You throw put your back into the throttle for a direct assault. Confirm the action.

>Confirm
>Retract

>>2472516
confirm

File: zaku time.jpg (125 KB, 500x375)

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>>2472516
>>Confirm

>>2472516
Confirm.

>>2472516
>>Confirm

File: Zwing.gif (489 KB, 500x375)

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You punch it.

So does the opposing Mech.

You grit your teeth, glaring at the screen.

One shot.

One swing.

>Roll for EVA Roll for [Dodge] vs [Volley]* [5 Rollers, 1d12]
Modifiers:
INITIATIVE (+2)

Rolled 9 (1d12)

>>2472543

Rolled 7 (1d12)

>>2472543

Rolled 9 (1d12)

>>2472543

Rolled 12 (1d12)

>>2472543

>>2472546
>>2472551
>>2472553
>>2472555
man why cant we roll this good in Shipgirl Commander

>>2472546
>>2472551
>>2472553
>>2472555
Forgot guys. Add +1 to your modified rolls because it's Melee under the effects of [INITIATIVE].
>Ability Reference: Reckless (Lv. 1) [TENDENCY WARRIOR]

Do you guys want to re-roll or keep your rolls?

>>2472569
keep of course

Rolled 12, 10, 8, 8, 8 = 46 (5d12)

GM rolls TO HIT

>>2472569
Keep

>>2472578
How come the enemy mech also gets a +2 to initiative?

File: When The Dice Lets The GM(...).gif (19 KB, 500x332)

19 KB GIF

TO HIT: (12, 10, 8, 8, 8)
EVASION: (9+1, 7+1, 9+1, 12+1) +1

Melee Offensive Rating: 1+4
Melee Defensive Rating: 0+0

YOU HAVE DEALT 6 DAMAGE to FOE 02 (HAWKEYE)

ENEMY DESTROYED!

*The picture conveys my salt levels.

Rolled 5 + 1 (1d12 + 1)

>>2472543

>>2472588
No, you do. That's YOUR bonus. It's preliminary addition. The modifier applies to you.

I'll happily take it, though.

>>2472608
WHY COULDN'T YOU HAVE COME SOONER. YOU COULD HAVE BORNE THEIR SINS. NOW YOU ONLY SERVE TO TAUNT ME.

>>2472609
I meant them rolling d12. Shouldn't it be d10?

>>2472619
I always used d12 for combat/evasion. d10 is for the pre-combat rolls.

http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2237365/#p2241847

File: Yeah, This Is You.jpg (191 KB, 1024x768)

191 KB JPG

[FOES ELIMINATED!]

TENDENCY: WARRIOR

+3 XP for [SQUADRON DEVASTATION]*
+8 XP for [PRE-EMPTIVE KILL (MELEE)] **(2)
+2 XP for [MELEE KILL] (1)
+2 XP for [ONE HIT KILL] (1)
+1 XP for [MELEE WEAPON USAGE] (1)

[WARRIOR] HAS REACHED LEVEL: 3

XP TO NEXT LEVEL: 9

CHOOSE AN ABILITY TO LEVEL UP:
Passive - Reckless Lv. 1
Passive - Calculated Strikes Lv. 1
Passive - Discipline Lv. 1

[TENDENCY: VANGUARD]

+3 XP for [SQUADRON DEVASTATION]*
+1 XP for [MELEE WEAPON USAGE] (1)

[VANGUARD] HAS REACHED LEVEL: 2

XP TO NEXT LEVEL: 9

ACTIVE ABILITY REQUIRED: Endurance Lv. 1
“Takes a beating, keeps on licking … ticking” - Hayden the Sane
If brought down to less than 2 HP, you may choose to push the Mech further. Activating this ability nullifies all [KINETIC] weaponry damage for 1 Solution.***

*Destruction of the whole unit has their XP divided between your two tendencies
**Out of Combat Kills
***Accepting a recovery unit will allow you to reset this ability.

>>2472695
To help you guys with what you want to level up

http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2237365/#p2241881
http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2237365/#p2247969

>>2472695
So what do the level 2 versions of the abilities look like? What are the upgrades?

>>2472695
im leaning towards Discipline or Calculated Strike
what about the rest of ya'll?

>>2472711
Reckless
Lv. 1:
>+1 to all rolls under the effect of [INITIATIVE]
Lv. 2:
>+1 to all rolls under the effect of [INITIATIVE]
>[IMMUNE] to [BLINDSIDED]

Calculated Strike:
Lv. 1
>+1 to all rolls while attacking with a [MELEE WEAPON] within MELEE RANGE
Lv. 2
>+2 to all rolls while attacking with a [MELEE WEAPON] within MELEE RANGE

Discipline:
Lv. 1:
>+2 to save rolls in Melee Range
>-4 using [RANGED WEAPON] in Melee Range
Lv. 2
>+2 to save rolls in Melee Range
>-3 using [RANGED WEAPON] in Melee Range

>>2472741
im going for Discipline

>>2472787
FUCK MEANT RECKLESS

>>2472741
>Calculated Strike

>>2472741
Voting for Reckless

>>2472741
Oh shit, I missed the start of the session.

I'm leaning towards Calculated Strike - the upgrade to Discipline will only lower the malus to using a ranged weapon in melee range, which seems incredibly situational.

...being able to no-sell blindsided seems very nice though - hey Mech, what exactly causes the blindsided modifier anyway?

>>2472799
When your attention is on someone else and an enemy attacks you without attention on them.

It's a situation where, say if You and Emilio are concentrating on Enemy A, no one is watching Enemy B. If no one is watching Enemy B, they get the [BLINDSIDE] bonus.

>>2472814
So limited immunity to being caught off-guard?

So I have two for Calculated Strike and two for Reckless. Let's flip a coin for it.

*flip*

Reckless it is.

>>2472839
It means Crits don't happen and you can avoid like it was under initiative instead of having to endure and retreat.

File: Instructor Fisher.jpg (41 KB, 480x679)

41 KB JPG

You’d done it.

You’d done the impossible.

‘Heh …’

You turn down to see the weak smile of your Guidance Counsellor. Her face was pale, her brow drenched in sweat. The tips of her hair were slightly singed, but she … she was positively beaming at you. There was a glow of pride, even with her wilted brow, even with the withered, pale form that she wore. It’s warm, honest …

She was proud of you.

‘Not … bad …’

She closes her eyes.

Her hand falls onto the controls, limp. You shift in your seat, realizing that you weren’t just sitting in artificial liquid, but mostly blood. What little knots and knobs Fisk’s coats had made to the bloody stumps to her legs had come undone during the battle. You hadn’t even noticed. You only had your eyes on what was ahead and now you’d—

‘SENPAI!’

No.

‘Fisher!’

Rosaria clambers over the instruments, pulling Fisher up, putting bloodied stumps into the air to keep the blood—what little she had—inside her body. You’d cut her right at the edge of the prosthetic. The bone hadn’t been seared, but the artificial tissue and the simulated muscle machinery were exposed. It wouldn’t seal shut. It couldn’t seal shut. Not with the damage; not with the whole limb torn off on both of her legs. Her breathing is shallow, faint …

‘We need to open a comm! Emergency services! Anyone!’

Yes, a Comm.

But to who?

Was there anyone even around? Would they pick up? Would the general channel work at all? Were there any medically-able staff members on site? Could the Defence Force break off and send someone in amidst the chaos? What could … what could you do?

‘Senpai!’

>Open a General Channel and cast a wide net
>Open a Channel to Kerensky Spaceport
>Open a Channel to the Orbital Defence Force
>Write-In

>>2472889
>>Open a General Channel and cast a wide net

>>2472889
>>Write-In
>Open a General Channel and cast a wide net while moving toward a clear part of the spaceport looking for any personal

>>2472900
going for this

>>2472900
Supporting this - cast a broad net on comms while searching for survivors at the port.

File: Eh3.jpg (289 KB, 633x474)

289 KB JPG

You didn’t have a choice.

‘This is GAIA-0401 of The Aegis requesting assistance. I have essential personnel in critical condition and requires immediate medical attention.’

‘Senpai, you’re on the—’

‘I don’t have a choice!’ you snap right back. ‘I repeat, this is GAIA-0401 of The Aegis requesting assistance. I have essential personnel. Designation: Morrigan Fisher; OMNI-09092. Essential personnel. Requesting assistance through means of immediate medical attention; I am at Kerensky Launchport—’

‘Kerensky?! Kerensky’s taken. Who is this?’

The voice is slightly muzzled, suspicious … and you know better than to read out vitals on a general channel. Between Fisher bleeding out and enemies intercepting vitals, you’d take incompetence over death any day. You turn up the booster—eighty years old was still eighty years old … and you can only hope you’d get through to whoever it was on the other end of the line.

‘This is GAIA-0401. I have essential personnel in critical condition. She’s losing blood fast and I require immediate medical assistance! Is there any emergency system out there? Anyone?’

An orange light blips.

You flip the channel up.

‘GAIA-0401, ID OMNI-09092 is confirmed: Fisher, Morrigan. This is Supervisor Shepard, Ensign. Kerensky’s been taken by an Alliance Military Squadron. We’re unable to send out anyone from the shelters for a pick-up. We’re unable to comply with your request for emergency services until the situation is stable.’

‘Situation is stable,’ you growl back urgently, ‘enemy Mech Squadron is eliminated; send a crew out for pick-up and bring her in for treatment.’

There’s silence.

One second …

Four seconds …

Eight …

‘Impossible, there are no Mech Squadrons deployed here or running defensive countermeasures …’

Something in you … snaps.

>Write-In

>>2472995
With all due respect Sir, I'm the one currently on this damn station and I can tell you that is NO ALLIANCE PRESENCE on Kerensky anymore.

If he still doesn't believe us maybe get Fisk on the line? Or any way we can display our camera feed to higher command?

>>2472995
>>no there arent, but there were 2 Hellions stored here for transport later that i used to save myself, Instructor Fisher and one other from burning to death and used to dispatch the enemy squadron
>now are you gonna send somebody out here to save the Instructors life?

>>2473008
Uh, Fisk is ... dead.

>>2473008
If camera or video feed can be shared over comms, do so.

Otherwise, I'll support >>2473008

>>2473013
I assume he meant Fisher... thought I'm not sure how coherent she would be right now.

>>2473013
>>2473016
Yeah sorry meant Fisher,if she's even coherent to string some words together.

I had an impromptu date. Watched Ready Player One. It's not as bad as people say, but the acting is really, really, really mediocre. I put it just above Pacific Rim and Black Panther. Watch at your own discretion. There are fun scenes, but the acting, though ... well ...

It's not good. The acting isn't good. Movie is worth a brainless romp with your friends.

That being said, you guys wanna run?

>>2473452
Hell yeah!

>>2473452
sure

File: Big Big.jpg (61 KB, 500x366)

61 KB JPG

Above you, the battle rages. The ODF had things going pulling out what could only be holding action in the skies, but you’re not sure how long they’d hold. You’d wiped out three Mechs in the space of ten minutes, playing dirty and direct. There was no way that they’d let up on the pressure now. Not with a dead Squadron—and it most definitely was a Squadron—on your hands. It all returned to time … that there was none that you could spare. The blood drips over your arm as Fisher’s lifeless body shivers, Rosaria desperately looking for a med-kit that wasn’t there and you … you staring at the blinking light in anger.

‘There are no hostiles at present notice,’ you snarl, ‘current occupation is eliminated and the Launchport is under friendly control. Mech ID is’—you key in the specifications—‘ 000019. I’m the only one here right now, but I can’t guarantee forces aren’t en route. This is a priority one.’

There’s no answer.

You stare at Fisher’s face.

Her eyes were open now, if only slightly.

Unfocused, dim … and her lips pale.

‘By the Emperor … where—did the Aegis send a Squadron?’

The Supervisor’s voice is one of shock, disbelief.

You find that you hardly care.

‘Negative, I’m the only one. Send out Emergency Services.’

‘Confirmed, Ensign. Kerensky Emergency Services is aware and preparing to receive personnel. Head over to the commercial hangars; a team will be there to pick her up and bring her in. VTOL Unit Designation is Prudence.’

You don’t need telling twice.

The Hellion enters the closest thing that it can to a sprint. You can feel the vibrations as you leave the site of the main hangar and head over to the other side. Kerensky was mainly a military installation for the majority of its centuries-long service … and it wasn’t until shortly before you were born that they’d put something akin to a civilian wing for the Launchport. Unlike the ancient behemoth of a hangar bay, the commercial hangars were much smaller; barely a Mech and a half in height … and put into separate units rather than one collective base. As per their designations, they were usually private hires …

A blip on your RADAR has you coming to a halt.

You breathe a sigh of relief as you realize just what it was.

‘GAIA-0401, this is Prudence of Emergency Services, confirm your position.’

‘Prudence, this is GAIA-0401, Mech ID 000019,’ you let out half-urgently, half in relief, ‘you guys work fast.’

‘We’re Emergency Services, Ensign. Preparing descent.’

Fisher couldn’t be strapped into that stretcher soon enough.

You stand there by the team of five, already working their magic … and staring in worry as they bright out the blood bags and medical equipment. They looked like they knew what they were doing, but you couldn’t help but feel a little …

Antsy.

‘Senpai?’

>>2473825
>'You should go with them, Rosaria. It's not safe.' (Urgent)
>'Give me a minute.' (Annoyed)
>'Rosaria, I ... I'm sorry with how I acted back there.' (Apologize)
>'Do we have a read on the situation?'
>Write-In

>>2473833
Asking about the situation is ignoring Rosaria in favor of getting more information?

>>2473833
>'You should go with them, Rosaria. It's not safe.' (Urgent)

>>2473860
Oh fuck. I forgot to clarify that Rosaria had been chatting with the medical unit before coming back to you. You don't know what, though.

>>2473833
>'Do we have a read on the situation?'

>>2473833
>'Do we have a read on the situation?'

>>2473833
>'You should go with them, Rosaria. It's not safe.' (Urgent)

>>2473833
>>'You should go with them, Rosaria. It's not safe.' (Urgent)
then
>'Do we have a read on the situation?'

>>2474100
this

>>2473833
>>'Do we have a read on the situation?'

File: Bad Image But Accuate.jpg (55 KB, 640x474)

55 KB JPG

‘Do we have a read on the situation?’

Rosaria hesitates, if only briefly.

‘Not … not much to go by,’ she states. ‘The pilots told said that their standing orders are to stay out of the warzone, which is …’

‘The whole continent,’ you finish crisply, nodding as you turn to the sky. There isn’t much going on on top … but in the distance light blips and bursts tell you that however they’re fighting, the ODF was holding their last line. ‘Anything else?’

‘They … they said they don’t know, either. Communications … everything that isn’t on an immediate, localized frequency is jammed … and the general channels are being monitored. The Supervisors and the Watch Commanders are trying to organize an evacuation or something, but … it’s hard to say. Everything outside of the major cities is on their own … and no one knows what’s going on with the cities themselves.’

‘A blackout this big? It really is an invasion, then. The Alliance Military … are they actually declaring war?’

‘I don’t know,’ Rosaria offers quietly, ‘but they said that … they’re headed to a shelter. If you want to, they’ll … they’ll give us a ride. Hopefully The Aegis and the ODF will be able to sort—’

A loud boom has you covering your ears. You look in the distance to see the burning carcass of another ODF cruiser, its final resting place on the grassy plains of the planet it had sought out to defend. The boom and rumble in the skies above tells you that the Alliance Battlegroup had made another breakthrough—the ODF cruiser another mark of their victory. Rosaria stares in horror as more crafts make their mark across the plains, markers to the valiant fallen. She whimpers, staring at what you know she hopes to be nothing more than a nightmare.

You wish it was only that, too.

‘That … that’s …’

‘Another cruiser,’ you confirm grimly. ‘That’s two down in less than an hour … what the Hell is going on?’

You duck as a loud burst almost sends you reeling. A fighter had made a pass … and judging by the fact it hadn’t taken the opportunity to take a wide open shot at a grounded Mech, you can only surmise that it was on your side. It doesn’t even bother to double back, taking full throttle with another burst of sound, rejoining the battle by the distant, dark horizon …

Another boom makes itself known.

You spy what looked like a meteor, zooming some way north on an odd trajectory.

It doesn’t take long for you to recognize it as an Alliance Drop Ship.

‘By the Emperor …’

Another Mech Squadron.

What a perfect first day this was, truly …

>‘Rosaria, tell the crew to prep up and get out of the combat zone.’ (Get back in the Hellion)
>‘Come on, we have to get out of here.’ (Try to leave)
>Write-In

>>2474480
>>‘Rosaria, tell the crew to prep up and get out of the combat zone.’ (Get back in the Hellion)
time to haul ass to AEGIS as fast as we can

>>2474480
>>‘Rosaria, tell the crew to prep up and get out of the combat zone.’ (Get back in the Hellion)
She's not coming with us right?

>>2474480

>‘Rosaria, tell the crew to prep up and get out of the combat zone.’ (Get back in the Hellion)

If she tries to argue or anything just tell her.

" I was trained as a soldier, I can buy time. See ya soon"

>>2474480
Just caught up Mechanic, I am loving this so far. This brings to mind the tail end of this cinematic.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vZWxgLQZano


>‘Rosaria, tell the crew to prep up and get out of the combat zone.’ (Get back in the Hellion)
>This is Gaia-401 to all receiving Units, another mech squadron is being dropped at Kerensky station, I will hold them off as long as I can.

>>2474480
>>‘Come on, we have to get out of here.’ (Try to leave)
Why shouldn't bug out though?

>>2475889
Because our command style is Protector and we are facing an enemy that seems to have no problem attacking medics.

>>2475744
this

>>2475744
Damn, my lack of creativity is exposed once more.

>>2474480
>‘Rosaria, tell the crew to prep up and get out of the combat zone.’ (Get back in the Hellion)

>>2475744
Supporting this.

File: Grand Old Lady.png (413 KB, 824x760)

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It was never good to ignore a bad feeling.

Never mind that they were twenty miles off or twenty feet. Three of their Mechs being downed wouldn’t sit well at all, from any viewpoint. Adding the loss of a Launchport to that, there was a near certainty that they’d be bringing another Squadron down to Kerensky … hitting harder, hitting faster. The civilians were in the shelters and the militia-assigner personnel weren’t anywhere to be seen. You don’t know if the Mech Squadron from before had wiped them out or if they’d elected to relinquish any semblance of defense in the face of certain doom.

All you knew is that you were the only one with anything to do about it.

‘Rosaria, tell the crew to prep up and get out of the combat zone.’

‘What?’

‘We can’t lose Kerensky again,’ he starts. ‘I’m staying.’

‘But you’re …’

You were committing suicide.

It still wasn’t the stupidest thing that you’d ever done.

‘Tell the crew to get back up in the air,’ you declare firmly, taking off your blood-soaked jacket and dropping it to the floor. It felt … heavy. ‘We can’t lose Kerensky again. If I can push them back or hold them off, even for a while, the ODF might be able to double back and launch a counter-offensive, but until the order’s given out, Kerensky has to stay as a foothold.’

‘But that’s …’

You tussle her hair, offering one last smile.

‘That’s being a good senior.’

You don’t give her the time to throw out a response. You don’t need one. Strapping your foot onto the metal catch, you give machine two tugs. It reels you back up to the cockpit. Strapping yourself in, you close it up, the indicators and instruments glowing an eerie green. The old girl groans and whines as she stands back up. The weapon systems are still active and power wasn’t an issue. You felt a little woozy, but you supposed it was just nerves.

All in all, for someone about to die, you were in pretty good shape.

Rosaria’s words don’t elicit any argument from the crew of the Prudence. They load up Fisher’s sleeping form onto the craft. One of the crew members lingers by the side of the craft, throwing up a salute in your direction before ducking into VTOL craft himself. The sensors were going haywire now; the battle had broken through the lower atmosphere … they’d be breaking the clouds pretty soon.

The Prudence leaves without ceremony. A take-off and a full burst of thrusters that almost staggers your Hellion from the proximity. You raise the camera up to the sky than back to the horizon. No Mechs yet. No offensive, no counter-attack.

They weren’t kidding when they said the worst part was the waiting.

‘Just you and me, huh, old girl?’

The Hellion seems to purr in response as you take that first step.

Not a bad way to—

That wasn’t a purr.

Someone was … trying to break through to you. Who?

>>2477229
>Allow the the trace and establish communications
>Don't answer it and keep radio silence
>Write-In

>>2477234
>>Allow the the trace and establish communications

>>2477234
>>Allow the the trace and establish communications

>>2477234
>Allow the the trace and establish communications

>>2477234
>>Allow the the trace and establish communications

>>2477234
So Mech, I take it that the entire war happens in 6 stages? Deep, inner space, outer and Inner Atompshere, Sky and land?

>>2477247
Space is ODF/Navy territory. You usually don't fight up there. Anything that makes Planetfall is Aegis territory. This, though, isn't so much a war as it is an extermination. A Battlegroup appearing on a world without a Battlegroup to counter it is usually just condemned to writing a will. The war only REALLY breaks out when the Mechs make landing. In this world, a Mech Squadron making atmosphere is treated with the same reverence as a Space Marine Chapter landing.

Adding to above, you probably don't even know how a Battlegroup got THIS deep into Imperial space.

>>2477255
Neat info, Thanks boss.

‘Identify.’

‘This is Watch Commander Reedus of the ODF, designation OSI-1119. Respond.’

You pause for a moment.

‘This is GAIA 0401, rank Ensign, receiving.’

There’s no reply.

The seconds pass.

Was there an intercept?

‘Thank the Emperor, we thought we’d lost Kerensky with that blitz,’ he breathes out. ‘The Alliance forces are making a big push … and while we’ve kept their drop ships out and off, we can’t make up the numbers to push them back. Communication’s down all over Rhysode … they’ve blacked out everything that isn’t the local or general channels..’

‘So I’ve heard,’ you reply crisply, an eye on the RADAR. So far, no attacks were heading your way. Nothing from the air, either, so you supposed the ODF was doing a bang up job of keeping any bombing runs in the cracks of brains … the cruiser crashes notwithstanding. ‘How’re you able to get a lock on this frequency?’

‘Relays,’ he reveals. ‘Kerensky’s one big antennae … and we’re bouncing off every signal that that the jam isn’t catching. Took a little bit to get to you, though.’

Smart.

‘We only got eyes up here, so it’ll be nice to have some on the ground … if you’re willing to share a frequency with a dirty militia man like me?’

As you open your mouth to reply, you find your sensors picking up a rush of … tanks and fighters, prepping up from their hangars and bays, ready to follow up on your work. Kerensky may not have been packed full, but you can see that they were scrambling all they had to spare. Three tanks zoom across the runway, their turrets facing forward. To your nine o’clock, you make out four VTOL attack craft taking to the skies as staff members pour out from the administrative buildings, running for the hangars.

Holding up a defense line against a Battlegroup with the ODF and members of the militia.

After slamming an axe to the face of a whole Squadron of Mechs holding the site.

This wasn’t how you envisioned your first day.

Not at all.

>‘I’m open to the idea.’
>‘I can handle this on my own.’
>‘You’re putting a whole lot of faith in someone who should be fumbling through wires on a Logistical assignment.’
>‘What word do you have on The Aegis? Do they have any defenses up?’
>‘Did we lose Rossiu, too?’
>‘Why are your standing instructions to keep themselves in the shelters? Why come out now?’
>Write-In

>>2477475
>>‘What word do you have on The Aegis? Do they have any defenses up?’

Sorry guys. Had to do a little Qur'an reading with the family. Personal stuff. Back, though.