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Post by Deaths on Mar 16, 2019 0:27:19 GMT
Rain pelts down from the heavens as the squad push deeper into 'uncharted' territory. Most maps of the waste were useless after a few days, since the Nerco's have a habit of redesigning all the turf they control. Every time scavengers would scout areas, the Nerco's were quick in plugging up and security breaches. These were things that Sami was used to, having to move quick get what you came for and leave, hopefully without the Necro's finding out how you got in. A repeatable route behind enemy lines was worth a lot out here, and today one of the big corps was paying that cost. Sami wasn't the most skilled pilot, his mech was a Frankenstein's monster of reused parts. Hell Patches was held together by duct tape, and prayer most days. There was one thing Sami had on all of the other pilots in his position, he always came back. Survival is the only that truly matters in this world, far away from the walled cities where these pilots he was currently escorting were from.
A click of a button opens up his comms to the team. "Ladies, and gentlemen, I'd like to welcome you to 'sector 325', lovingly referred to as 'The Pit', by us locals." A small video of his face appears on the HUD of his squad mates as he speaks, though he quickly shares his feed with them showing his most recently updated map. "This is as far east as anyone has ever been...officially of course." This mission was a big endeavor for the city people, it was supposed to be a big push sending in a skilled team, showing that things weren't as bad as it seemed. "These maps, are brought to you by the 'Wasters', no finer scouts in the world. I even paid extra for them to leave the location of a caches, they left behind." A few areas on the map glow showing the resupply locations, these hiding spots were a god send for teams like this. Ammo, fuel, and emergency repairs couldn't be transported out this far without alerting too much attention. Luckily the team hasn't had any contact yet, a few scavenger teams gave them a wide berth, banditry was common place and with all these shiny mechs they might as well be walking around with sacks of gold coins on their shoulders.
Sami ends his communication, letting the rest of the team get a grasp on all the new information. The rest of the group seemed competent, though none of them were the superstars that get popular on the radio dramas out here. Usually they strike it rich and retire wealthy selling merchandise, and charging for appearances. Sami can't stop, but think about how great that life sounds, if only he was born on the right side of the wall. Today could be the day he ascends the slums of the wastelands, he can become a lazy celebrity living the high life. Surrounded by women, riches, and all manner of food he's only read in stories.
A few more minutes pass as the team settles in. Once again Sami pops up on the comms to give one more message. "Okay, up ahead you'll find our target, the 'Medical Mechanica' R&D building." A photo replaces his video feed showing the strange architecture of the now infamous medical facility. "Looks like my turn on point is over. My orders were to get you here and provide overwatch. Ms. Ansteph, was it? I'm following your lead." Sami takes out his rifle and unlocks the safety before speaking again. "I recommend both teams stay on separate comm lines unless things get FUBR. If the assault team's comms get compromised it can alert them to the infiltration team." Sami shrugs as Patches falls in line with his new unit. "But what do I know? I'm not one of you elites." He chuckles too himself as one of the twins takes the rest of her team with her, to begin their half of the mission.
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Post by Deleted on Mar 16, 2019 9:55:43 GMT
What meager light the grey sky yielded to the once fertile, now perished, land beneath it glimmered back off of a behemoth of mirror. Far off in the cloudy distance, traces of great walls could be seen.. for the world surrounding the small company of pilots is worthy of being kept distant. A squad of soldiers inside mechanical structures of war, soon to be divided, made way through land none would want to traverse. Before them stretched a land of peril.
Powerful mechanized weaponry had slowly evolved from nothing during the years following Earth's nuclear devastation, growing more and more effective as tools for the new developing organizations to use against one another and against those who would shun the remnants of law. Cities were thrown together by organizations following their own ideologies, some favoring anarchy and others order, but their streets all reek of corruption. Those who strayed or otherwise didn't fit in with these emerging societies were cast out into the wasteland as punishment if they weren't killed. At first, these outer lands were only dangerous because of the banditry and feral nature it cultivated in those forced to become one with the promise of nothing.
That had been years past. Now, humanity wars against a greater threat. Mechs and their remnants have been sporadically rebelling. Infrequently, but frequently enough, some mechs will discard their owners and retreat to the wastes from their cities or bunkers where a collective army of powerful weaponry bends its will to an unknown force. It has been established that some mechs will defect to the growing hive beyond the walls, which gather in forces before returning with malice to those who made them. Mechanized units are viewed with mistrust but there is no other way to combat the necro-beasts. For around four years, Earth's differing factions have formed a military pact and cooperate to find and defeat the source of hostility against humanity. Each respectable organization throws in its own units to the larger military representing humanity as a whole. Today, seven pilots embark on a single mission through Sector 325 which may turn another of the war's chapters... ______________ Neriah's own Judgement reflected the brown and grey ruins of the world around them, coasting easily inside of the small formation of mechs entering the sector. She'd preferred the feeling of living through the large frame of her dense mech over her biological body for as long as she'd started piloting. Inside the cockpit, she squirmed against the edge of her painful metal chair. She chose the design of such a chair to prevent her from relaxing on a battlefield. Her cockpit was located at the head of her chrome humanoid mech, its head the shape of a gallant helmet. Her good left eye strained at her comms screen at the guiding pilot for this mission and then the details that the man sent through to each mech. Her right eye had retired in the past and now rested beneath white silk bound tightly around her head beneath brown hair. She had to raise her head over her mech's enormous shield to see the land outside.
Steel determination covered Neriah's face as she took in the wasteland that she had always hated with such passion. The destruction, the criminals, outcasts, and the necro-threat most of all held their place in her scorn. To her, the wasteland beyond civilization contains everything she promised herself she would help destroy. That is, after all, what the red cross insignia over her eye and on her mech's giant shield stood for. While the pilots of the mechs around her all have different affiliations, her own belongs to the Neo-Messians who control some of the more glamorous cities that emerged from Earth's ashes. The Messians are relatively hated among other organizations for their elitism and other more serious negative qualities, but few are there more passionate Neo-Messians than Neriah. While she had been a respected soldier of the city she'd grown up in, this is her first mission since her request to be sent into the collective military.
She'd only met her new allies a few days prior to this one. Her insignia, along with her youth, had earned her hard glances from many within the collective army's largest and central bunker. Still, she had spent the days in the bunker attempting to calm the nerves of the six who would join her in this mission. Anyone who seeks glory against the Necros, even those who may oppose the Messians, earn her respect. Her interactions with the squad had been pleasant and comforting thus far. Her squadmates could sense the switch in her attitude after she'd stepped into the cockpit of Judgement, however. She came across as much more serious and less warm than she had the days prior.
She'd been all too happy when she learned that her new field commander, Gwyn Dekker, had given her lead over half of the unit. Her orders were to defend a targeted R&D building while others scavenged it for what she assumed was just intel. As Sami, the unit's guide through the wasteland, began to finish speaking she glanced over at his makeshift mech. It seemed the scavenger had made his from parts found in the wasteland, which she had to admit was impressive. Scavengers have a tendency to be the type that gets in the way of her cause, but Sami's willingness to provide some manner of help for the collective military was enough to make him acceptable in her book.
Judgement and Sami's own Patches were of equal enough height so that the pilots could see one another through the cockpits. She couldn't help but notice how different people of the wastes are to those she's used to. Neriah smiled politely and nodded at the scavenger pilot when he chose to join her squad. "Thank you, Samuel. Defending the area may take all of the firepower we can get and I'm sure you'll do great." She pleasantly replied over comms, her voice reeked of a type of softness and sophistication that seemed limited to the Messians and other groups with the rare advantage of luxury. Luckily, her hands were hidden beneath the cockpit as they trembled in the anticipation that they may rid the Earth of a few more Necros. When she noticed that the groups were ready to divide themselves and get to work, Judgement drew its metal sword from its holster and pointed it toward the sky in salute. "Team two, form around me!" She yelled loudly over comms, as team one had already begun to make their way to the building. She smiled at the pilots through the cockpits. "We destroy anything that comes within non-assisted visuals. Assume anything moving within the building's proximity is an enemy and shoot the hell out of it!"
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Post by DodoDestroyer on Mar 17, 2019 18:01:44 GMT
The time of day and heavy rain puts the wrecked city that was once home to the human population into an obscured shroud. Headlamps on each mecha pierce through the veil of darkness into beams, some remaining focused ahead and others sweep from left to right, up and down to scan their surroundings. The wastes here possess a unique, dreadful ambience. The absence of human activity replaced by groaning of abandoned buildings, rustles of debris as the foreign sounds of the Marshall's movements disturbed the dust and broken concrete. Two of those Marshalls belong to a pair of sisters that have valuable experience venturing into the wastes. Despite being only one or two missions, it's more than a Marshall usually sees in their lifetime. The wastelands are lethal, survival rate is low and many consider the missions here suicidal. That explains why the hazard pay is through the roof. This concerns neither sister, one focused on the tasks with a professional glow while the other is far too chipper to show worry.
Jayna's mech stands as one of the largest, Alice's the smallest. Firefly stands taller than Judgment by a few feet, armour much thicker with the hands replaced with jet flamers, shoulders mounted with swarm rockets and a heavy grenade launcher. Not to mention a paintjob of black with flame decals (Jayna's extra addition.) Firefly is a walking death bunker, outfitted especially to handle large hordes and anti-Dullahan. The comm screens open up to an expression that shows no concerns, background show visible trinket decorations in the cockpit. Alice is the complete opposite to her twin, in both mech and personality. The reason her light frame is the smallest is due to it's unique quadrupedal frame, requiring the pilot to be seated belly down with enough frontal space for arm movement over various controls. Hound's strange build and little armour is more of a scout and infiltrator, the inexperienced eye would think it could not handle well in direct combat. Those who know Alice and her skills, know that she can handle Hound like a dream and about as dangerous as a medium frame with heightened agility. "Maps check out, coordinates set for resupply locations and rendezvous point. Thanks for the extra effort, Patches." comes Alice's response, cool and levelled that hides her anxiety well. No matter how many times you go into the wastes, you never quite get used to it...
The team reach their destination with little disturbance, which means well for their ammo count and reserves. "You heard Patches. Keep comms separate, infiltration team remain on the quiet and engage short range radio mode. Less likely to be intercepted." Alice advises once the teams begin to split into two. "Infiltration on me! We know what we're looking for, let's do this quick and quiet so we can all go home unscathed." She takes command while Jayna stays behind with the defence. Hound and the rest of her team move up to the R&D building's blocked entrance. The tail of the small mech attaches to the back of it's chainsaw-like blade and begins precision cuts to create an opening for all without too much noise, then filing everyone inside. Hound does not have too much trouble navigating the tight hallways until they reach a wider space that all mechs feel less cramped. Alice shares her info with the team, photos of the ordnance they need to secure and a map laying out the interior. "Map predates before the collapse, best we can do. Keep a sharp eye for obstructions, some collapsed debris may open a shorter route to our destination. Keep close, eyes on all flanks. We don't know what is in here." She advises, straight to the point and no softening the reality of the wastelands. "Play smart, listen to each other, trust in your team. Follow this and I promise you'll get to retell this mission to your buddies back home."
With the infiltration team inside, defence have the simpler task: defend the place from bandits and Necros. Jayna chuckles at the mention of firepower. "Firepower is not a problem here. I got plenty of it." The second twin announces, Firefly's flamer spark to life as it's pilot connects to fuel lines for continuous streams of blaze. The sparks flicker into a small blaze of blue flame at the nozzles, ready to burn. The heavy mech positions itself under Judgement's orders, taking the frontline. Firefly's adaptive armour plating and flamers combined with Judgement's shield projectors make them superior tanks, creating a mech barricade to cover their ranged fighters. "Oh you said the magic words, Neriah. Ain't nothing getting by us." Jayna sounds almost like a giddy child as she updates her HUD to mark friendlies, everything else come into the radius are considered hostile.
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