Battletech IC #1: Outreach

[Occupied Deutschland]

Possibly to people's surprise Bear walked into the room, a newer model neurohelmet and coolant vest in either hand, "Couldn't find enough extras to fill out your lance so I'll be dropping in the sim too. Don't expect me to be taking over though, I'm here and I'll do my job but I'm not giving orders, that's up to the people I put up as officers."

Walther performed a wave that, if one were exceedingly charitable, could be called a salute when Bear entered the room.

Taking the Commander’s arrival as a signal, Walther then turned and removed the neurohelmet he had set on top of ‘his’ simulator before entering the pod.

Like practically all of them, the inside of the thing seemed to have a permanently-infused smell of sweat laced into the fabric of the seat and the materials of the various displays from previous users. But, that was all a part of the simulation, wasn’t it?

Grunting, Walther settled himself in the seat and began adjusting things. The seat was too far back, this right-hand control stick was too far forward...there. Slightly more comfortable, he plugged his neurohelmet and cooling vest in, and then began to reach down to the compartment by his right-leg—

Only for him to remember that he was in a simulator and not his actual mech.

“Shit.”

Grimacing in preparation for what was to come, Walther instead slid open a small square section of his leg. In his Locust things would be a lot easier, he could plug his leg into an auxiliary unit to relay controls that normally would be done by his right leg. But in a simulator he had no such opportunity. Oh well, maybe it’s gotten easier with time?

Clenching his teeth, Walther twisted the knob inside of his leg’s panel that controlled the sensitivity.

“Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!”

Walther took a long breath as the spike of pain that accompanied the twist of the knob slowly died out, “Definitely hasn’t gotten easier with time.”

With that done, Walther flipped on the main power to the simulated ‘mech’.

“What are our goals?” The simulator’s voice was slightly more computer-sounding than Walther’s own mech, but the deep bass it was supposed to sound like was still present, albeit distorted. Techies must have copied over my mech’s security. Walther thought, slightly impressed. They’d only had a day or so at the most to set up the simulators that they’d been able to transfer something so minor over as well was impressive.

“Our goals are peaceful.” Walther spoke to the machine.

“What is it we seek?” The computerized voice continued.

“We seek the unity and prosperity of mankind.” Walther replied.

“Control locks disengaged.” The simulators screens flashed just as real one’s would and their heretofore blank displays were replaced by the scrolling screens of numbers and diagnostics that spoke of a ‘Mech in the process of starting up. Walther smiled, He had had those security questions programmed into his mech when he first got it, and any Comguards initiate would recognize it immediately. It had been the standard security code-phrase used on Guard mechs until the Word splintered off of Comstar. Taken from the earliest days of the order, they were a paraphrase of the proclamation Jerome Blake had sent out from Earth in those trying times.

Symbols matter…

Walther laughed as the simulator began to tick off the various systems that were online or in the process of coming online, then nodded in the direction he thought Artemus’s simulator was. “Guess I might still be a Comguard after all.” He said to himself.

“All systems nominal. Go now, child, and take action to save life.”

Bear twisted the torso on his 'mech back and forth and then up and down checking the angles, then he stabbed the comms button, "By the way, Adromeda, Ronin: Allison Mechwarrior Institute, Salutatorian Class of 3048. Should tell you most of what you want to know."

Walther was surprised for a moment when Bear addressed the issue of where he was from, and then chided himself for being so. It was common knowledge that COs knew everything that was ever said between their subordinates, and likely many of the things that weren’t said, and they just chose not to let them know they knew all the time. That Bear knew there had been speculation about his origins shouldn’t be surprising.

“Sooo…Not a pacifistic monk from Zaniah?” Walther said, depressing the com button. “Damn. Not even in a new unit for a day and I’m already losing bets, so much for that advance you gave me.” He grumbled under his breath.

[SaintB]

“Sooo…Not a pacifistic monk from Zaniah?” Walther said, depressing the com button. “Damn. Not even in a new unit for a day and I’m already losing bets, so much for that advance you gave me.” He grumbled under his breath.

Of all the times he'd had other mercs or fresh mechwarrior recruits trying to guess at where the CO came from it was the first time he'd heard that one... pretty original. He stabbed the comm button again, "No but I might have family there... did I really seem like a pacifist or a monk to you?"

[Northern Dominus]

Seeing Billy saunter in right behind Bear Artemus suddenly went from semi-static to something resembling a controlled frenzy of motion. First he practically shoved Bear's keycard into Billy's hand and muttered an explanation before half-running half-lunging back over to the simulator pod he was leaning on before. Then he opened the hatch and went about a process of hooking up his cooling vest to the requisite hoses on his extended cooling vest and hooking up the jack on his neurohelmet before the obligatory gyrations of throwing both on in a hurry.

In short order he had both the helmet and vest along with a pair of grey-green gloves that exposed the middle and trigger finger on each hand.

Next up was the actual startup procedure, and since the layout was all in all a direct copy of the ones used at NAIS during his training there it didn't take him too long to set all of the primary systems to pre-start mode, although the actual startup procedure was a bit clunky after he performed the unlock sequence for his neurohelmet once the appropriate gauges flickered to life.

However after a few missed pushes he finally got the start-up sequence to initiate, and after flicking the appropriate switches and tapping the appropriate red buttons on a panel, the familiar cadence started.

"Reactor online... gyroscope activated, beginning rotation, online...MCU's charging, online...life support online.."

By that point Artemus had heard the cadence uttered by many an artificial voice. Female, male, gratingly synthisized, soothingly organic, it all blended into one omni voice that tickled the back of his brain slightly, there but unobtrusive unless something was truly wrong.

"Sensors Online...BC Online...DIC Online...targeting computer online..."

Immediately noticeable was the artificial feedback from the system. It REALLY wanted you to think you were on a mech without any input from your inner ear or eyes for that matter, which was slightly nauseating. Artemus fought this by looking around at the clustered mechs that were either randomly appearing or in various stages of start-up.
The one that stuck out as obvious was James' Vulture of course, the red/black tiger striping was pretty obvious. He also spied a Warhammer and a Locust which most likely belonged to Walter...

A blip of static followed by a moment of temporal thumping indicated his comms had just jumped online, and he quickly grabbed the volume knob and adjusted it as the stream of chatter assailed him until it was no louder than the startup sequence.

"weapons online, safety interlocks activated.... all systems nominal."

The sequenced ended with the usual blips and squeaks as all of the systems made last-minute adjustments. Per his usual habit Artemus checked the range of motion, torso-twisting left and right and actuating the arms out as well, pitching the torso up and down before bringing it to center. During the entire movement he noticed that rather than the multi-cam patterning that his mech was adorned with, this one was painted in what he assumed was GSS standard camouflage: dark brown and grey.

However during the entire sequence he did catch a bit of chatter for him, from Bear no less.

"By the way, Adromeda, Ronin: Allison Mechwarrior Institute, Salutatorian Class of 3048. Should tell you most of what you want to know."

Artemus chuckled audibly while switching the comms panel to the general broadcast frequency. He was about to respond but Walter decided to chime in of his own accord, and Bear once again had something to say about it.

"No but I might have family there... did I really seem like a pacifist or a monk to you?"

Artemus couldn't help himself and tapped the comms button before Walter could get a word in.

"Hey for all we knew Colonel you could have been one of those Brotherhood of Randis fanatical types. With the way you carry that shock baton around you might have taken something from one of the Capellan Warrior houses, you know the 'Understanding through Suffering' types."

[SaintB]

"I understood that I liked to make them suffer when I was still a Leaguer so perhaps." enough banter for now, "Alright lets keep comms open for business, you lance leaders can take it from here." he let the comms button go and waited for the rest of the sim to come online, he set up a second comm so he could listen to Billy's feedback since he wouldn't be viewing the exercise as planned, but this did give him a unique perspective.

[Hardened Pyrokinetics]

"Cut the chatter." James cut in sharply. "All of you should have more respect for professionalism than anyone else, especially you Dave." He purposely didn't use the CO's rank, last name, or callsign. He was being one of the grunts, after all. "Get organized into your Lances, and let's start figuring out our fucking strategy, instead of standing around here looking like idiots." He walked his Vulture around a bit, slowly getting beside his Lance Commander's 'Mech. "We got a job to do, so let's fucking do it." He was also well aware he was facing a huge pay cut.

[Occupied Deutschland]

"Cut the chatter." James cut in sharply. "All of you should have more respect for professionalism than anyone else, especially you Dave." He purposely didn't use the CO's rank, last name, or callsign. He was being one of the grunts, after all. "Get organized into your Lances, and let's start figuring out our fucking strategy, instead of standing around here looking like idiots." He walked his Vulture around a bit, slowly getting beside his Lance Commander's 'Mech. "We got a job to do, so let's fucking do it." He was also well aware he was facing a huge pay cut.

Walther chuckled lightly off the com-channel, he couldn’t help himself. It was funny. Ahh, the impatience of youth.

“Alright, alright, cool your jump jets, young man.” Walther muttered to himself as he pulled up the map of the battlefield one last time.

Guess it’s time to get to it.

Walther took a slow step forward in his simulated Locust as he opened a com-channel. “Andromeda, if you want to head due east here then follow the treeline up to the North, make sure there’s nothing lurking in that neck of the woods that could give these slowpokes a nasty surprise when they get there, they’d probably be appreciative.” Walther sketched out a rough outline of what he meant on his battlemech’s computer, “While you do that, I’ll circle around up to the North and make sure there’s nothing in that area to be concerned with. Meet up maybe a kilometer north of the treeline up there and we can head for the base.” Walther ground his teeth for a moment; it was anything but a proper reconnaissance. The entire Southern portion of their line was a complete unknown and was going to stay that way, Blake’s Blood what I wouldn’t give for a proper demi-company! But, you worked with what you had. “Someone else is going to have to keep an eye to the South.”

Walther glanced at the chronometer at the bottom of one of his readouts, 1534 hours. “I don’t know how solid our coms will be, so if you folks want to try and be in position by 1700 Standard or so that’s when we’ll run in waving our arms and screaming real loud to try and get the bad guys to come kill us.”

Walther held back for a beat, but couldn’t resist the joke. “Remind me again why I agreed to this plan?” he asked rhetorically.

“In any case, we’d be really appreciative if you folks are ready to go when we come running with a lance of assault mech’s chasing us.”

Turning his Locust to the North, Walther began to move out. “Did I forget anything?” he asked lightheartedly.

[Strykla]

"Copy all, Priest." Julius turned Milky Way to the east and set it out on a brisk trot. No need to trip up here. No mech had proper suspension, and it showed; Julius was bouncing around somewhat in the cockpit. He turned his sensors to passive and skated around a rock. The feeling reminded him irresistibly of his time in the AFFS.

"So, Jerry, you wanna have a cookout after the next PT run?"

"I got the beers."

He had a little while; the mech knew the destination and the ground wasn't that bad. He briefly wondered why these maneuvers weren't combined-arms; he seen tankers and aerospace fighters back at the MRBC, and Julius was an infantry officer by training. His thoughts were drawn back to the Civil War.

His new compatriots obviously did not recall the First Davion Guards. He'd been stationed on New Avalon then. When the war came, they, like everybody else, were ordered into battle. And an impossible decision resulted in the destruction of the unit. He remembered the opposing forces well. Third Robinson Rangers. Tenth Deneb Light Cavalry. New Avalon Militia. They meant little to him then, just other units. And then when they engaged in combat, the Guards were shattered just a few days before Christmas. At least Julius' regiment had gotten out. But that wasn't always the best thing.

He snapped himself back into attention.

[JuNii]

Kat checked her sensors. "Ok lancemates, I'm sure you don't need me to nursemaid you... you know your job. Good luck to you all."

she moved her Warhammer to the agreed point Keeping an eye on her sensors and the other for any telltale of enemy action.

[Northern Dominus]

The twitch in Artemus' eye was an involuntary one. He had a hilarious retort for both Walt and Bear but the sudden cutting in of James over the comms that made the other two back off of the levity...if begrudgingly.

"Cut the chatter." James cut in sharply. "All of you should have more respect for professionalism than anyone else, especially you Dave." He purposely didn't use the CO's rank, last name, or callsign. He was being one of the grunts, after all. "Get organized into your Lances, and let's start figuring out our fucking strategy, instead of standing around here looking like idiots." He walked his Vulture around a bit, slowly getting beside his Lance Commander's 'Mech. "We got a job to do, so let's fucking do it." He was also well aware he was facing a huge pay cut.

Artemus however did things a little differently, as everyone on the general frequency found that out very quickly.

"Ronin is green, standing by...and taking things super-duper seriously for Grand Field Marshall Timber Wolf."
If James felt like responding he didn't get the chance, because Artemus was perfectly capable of handling the business of being a mechwarrior while using humor to blow off the tension that lead to the testiness that James was giving into. He let the transmit toggle go for a second before clicking it again, this time with a decidedly different message for someone else entirely.

"Gun Dragon, Gun Dragon, this is Ronin. Meet me on secondary comms channel 3, designating that as our lance channel, over."
While he transmitted he eased the throttle forward. The artificial feedback simulated the lurching of the myomer firing and propelling the squat bushwacker forward. Muffled artificial thumps resonated quietly inside the canned cockpit, and the texturing on the terrain clearly marked it out as artificial in some ways, and yet Artemus couldn't help but slip into the standard "suspicious bastard" mode that he operated on whenever he was saddled up.

Easing around Julius' Osiris, Artemus went through the motion of switching his sensors to passive mode and other minute adjustments to minimize any signature his mech might have given off. No need to give anything away before it needed to be after all.

[JuNii]

"Gun Dragon, Gun Dragon, this is Ronin. Meet me on secondary comms channel 3, designating that as our lance channel, over."

"Tac 3, Got it." Kat responded as she cycled to the com channed. she kept the other channels on the background. information is power, bad intel kills. keep your ears and eyes open. her father used to say.

She kept her mech moving at a steady pace, not pushing the engine... that would come later.

[Hardened Pyrokinetics]

James moved to beside and slightly behind Jasmine, silent, focusing on his sensors and the surrounding area for any sign of the enemy. He was also running Active, figuring the greater range afforded would make up for being easily spotted himself. Besides, this 'Mech wasn't a brawler.

Slowly, though, his mind wandered. His 'Mech cockpit morphed into that of a Bushwacker, and the view outside darkened, rose, and turned into buildings. His 'Mech's footsteps became heavier and more metallic, impacting hard concrete and asphalt instead of soft grass and dirt. Detail began to emerge, the lights of the buildings being the first to stand out, that being there were none. Vehicles littered the street, crushed, burnt-out, flipped, or otherwise damaged. In amongst all the civilians, a shattered police armoured van lay in pieces on the sidewalk, up against the collapsed doorway of an apartment building blown apart by SRMs. Street lights and a few trees also littered the roadway, other victims of war.

But what was most apparent, out of all the carnage, was how... Clean it all was. No blood, no bodies, no signs that anyone had lived and died here when the wave of riots struck. Already the citizens had moved back and started picking up the pieces, a stark demonstration of the resolve that made the tiny Capellan Confederation such a dangerous region of the Inner Sphere.

"Timber Wolf to Sunrise." James sent over the comm, continuing to advance. Whoever was here, they had chosen to hide the moment they heard his Bushwacker entering the street. "Sector 233 showing all clear, proceeding to link-up with Bloodhound." He stepped over the remains of an SUV, reached the end of the street, and turned right.

"Copy that, Timber Wolf." The commander of the impromptu defense and anti-riot force responded. The force was made up primarily of Arena fighters who were against the rioting and looking to, at the very least, ease the suffering. They weren't all Independents or Capellans. Dracs, Ivers, Leaguers, and even some Lyrans and Sunners made up the hodge-podge paramilitary force, in addition to private citizens who happened to own firearms and the planetary police. "Bloodhound also reports no activity in Sector 231. Once you link up, proceed to Hotzone 22. We've got reports from informants that some Davions are in the area, including at least one confirmed Awesome. Once you arrive, wait for reinforcement and further orders."

"Complying with orders." James responded, making his way to his designated rendezvous with Bloodhound. He spotted the modified Owens on Radar first, initially appearing Neutral before IFF kicked in and pinged blue. "Good to see you, sis." James said, smiling. His younger sister, barely a year into the Light Circuit, had jumped into this "army" with both feet the moment the riots began. She was a good fighter, personally trained by her brother, and she knew how to handle herself. As her 'Mech came into view, he smiled. It had the same paintjob as his, save for one minor addition: All the joints were neon-pink.

They both piloted modified machines, obviously, with different weapons load-outs. Bloodhound's had two 5-tube rocket launchers in the arms, with massive magazines of 30 each. They could be fired all at once or one tube at a time, and although dumbfire had long range and could cause massive damage if utilized correctly. As backup, she had one medium laser in the center torso. What she lacked, however, was MASC.

James' Bushwacker was almost the epitome of independent Arena fighting. Hastily acquired at the start of the Season and modified as it progressed, he had a motley assortment of weaponry. His left arm and missile rack both carried LRM-10's with 30 missiles each. His right arm, curiously, held a simple old Rifle, firing armour-piercing rounds. Finally, his center torso carried a medium pulse laser.

The two 'Mechs met up and stopped. "Good to see you too, James." Bloodhound's voice responded, sounding relieved. "On my way here my radar momentarily picked up a Hostile, but it disappeared too fast to get a lock." She reported.

"Probably nothing." James said. "Could've been a simple sensor shadow. Come on, let's get to out next Objective, before some Davions decide to carve an expressway to Silesia. With PPCs."

"Roger." Bloodhound responded, turning with James as the two headed for their new destination... And fate...

[Northern Dominus]

"Gun Dragon, Gun Dragon, this is Ronin. Meet me on secondary comms channel 3, designating that as our lance channel, over."

"Tac 3, Got it." Kat responded as she cycled to the com channed. she kept the other channels on the background. information is power, bad intel kills. keep your ears and eyes open. her father used to say.

She kept her mech moving at a steady pace, not pushing the engine... that would come later.

As Artemus cleared the other mechs in formation he was finally able to throttle up slightly to close the distance between the 'Wacker and Kat's Warhammer. Switching over to Tac 3 while on the move he kept using his eyes to scan while leaving his sensors in passive mode. Other mechs might have had more firepower but the Bushwackers' best chance would be an ambush if any hostiles were to pop up. The low and narrow profile made it a pain in the ass to spot when coming head on, especially in cover.

'Not like a few years ago when you had 75 tons of fuck you to back it up...'

That brief throttle-up period didn't last long at all and soon enough Artemus had to pull back and brake slightly, lest he overrun his erstwhile lance leader.

The position of the comms panel meant that unlike his mech, Artemus had to take his hand off one of the sticks to communicate, and after matching Kat's low speed he flipped the toggle on Tac 3.

"Ronin to Gun Dragon. What's the plan lead? I've been studying the map and I might have a suggestion."
Indeed he had been and still was. Artemus had brought up the latest satellite-generated map overlay, this one with blinking blue dots for friendly mechs, green nav points, and of course angry red blips for the laser turret positions. However, passive sensors meant he had no idea if there were enemy mechs, vehicles, battle armor, or areotech prowling around anywhere, the price of emphasizing his mech's abilities.

[Occupied Deutschland]

Walther scanned the simulated treeline to his northwest, squinting and zooming his mech’s view in every now and then when he spotted a shadow or tree that seemed suspicious. Pure habit made him look down at his mech’s ‘actual’ sensors every now and then, but the passive state his systems were in left them almost useless.

His pod rocked slightly as the computer simulated a short stretch of uneven ground that the balance in his neurohelmet supposedly couldn’t eliminate, forcing Walther to adjust his controls very slightly. In reality Walther had rarely experienced such rough spots unless he was maxing out his engine, but simulators being pickier and more difficult than real life was a fact of life.

“Not a thing.” he muttered to himself as he twisted his mech’s torso in a half-circle. Grassland and forest, interspersed with a few small hillocks, was all he could see. They'd started moving and shit wasn’t already going wrong? What kind of wondrous good luck was that?

Walther began to look back away from the forest, when something caught his eye, a dancing shadow at the edge of the treeline. Maintaining his speed, he rotated around to focus on it. Zooming in…Nothing. Walther cursed. He had just focused his ire on a highly dangerous stump that was wedged between a stand of trees. Not a lot to fear there.

He fiddled with his communications gear, narrowing the band it broadcast on so it’d be harder to detect, but held back from actually using it. Even if the chances of it being detected were minute…simulators are pickier than real life. Besides, it wasn’t like there was too much to tell anyone. Hopefully his comrades weren’t the type that needed to hear a constant “all-clear” from him to know nothing had gone wrong.

If something goes wrong I’ll just turn tail, run back to them and scream Blake’s Blood the whole way. They’ll probably be able to figure out something’s wrong from that.

[JuNii]

Kat slowed her mech as they neared the city that they were supposed to be taking. her Extended range weapons gave her an edge... but what good is an edge like that when one waltz's into the enemy fire.

she began to turn her mech, putting some space between her and the Bushwhacker that idled up to her, forming a screen just incase the scouts need covering fire.

no word from the scouts... good. it means they're clear. she took a deep breath. she has to trust that her company knows their job. she was not a mother hen... whatever that was.

"Dragon to Ronin... what's on your mind?"

[Northern Dominus]

"Dragon to Ronin... what's on your mind?"

Since it was a simulation and no amount of zooming in would give away any head movements in the cockpit Artemus could get away with his massive eye-roll.
'ANOTHER dragon? She's what the sixth? Tenth? Fiftieth? One to use that callsign? And she doesn't even have the excuse of being Drac, Capellan or Rashal to justify a cultural myth in using that name either. She can insist on that callsign as much as she wants but she doesn't have dominion of my mind...'

Any more internal monologing would have lead to an unnecessary delay. Throttling back to match Kat's speed he brought the overhead map up to reference what he was about to mention before letting go of the left stick to hit the comms toggle.

"Ronin to Dragon..." although in Artemus' mind 'Ronin to Daisy' was how it registered "...recommend we proceed due west of our position into cover and wait for hostiles to appear.
No need to make our presence known right away, especially if their security is more vehicle or aerotech heavy than mech centric, over."

[Ularn]

The simulator created a perfect recreation of a CPLT-C4 Catapult. If Jaz had one complaint, it was that the rendition was too perfect. It was like a 'mech straight off the production line, with none of Bulldyke's personality or soul.
Still, it was nice to have a windshield again.
"Tinkerbell!" she snapped, deliberately neglecting to use Callahan's real callsign, "Get your sensors back on passive. This ain't your fucking arena and I don't need them knowing where we are before we've even got a shot off. Now follow me into position,"
As she scanned the various feeds from her own passive sensors, Jaz switch the comm over to address only the other Lance Leaders. In a much more relaxed tone she added "Priest, Gun Dragon, this is Bitch. Support lance en-route to our position. ETA just a minute; probably need to smack some sense into the cowboy over here on the way, over."
Trial run or not, it was good to be back in some sort of fight again, and as Jaz flexed her tree-trunk of a neck and placed her hands on the simulator controls a slight smile was playing across her lips.

[Hardened Pyrokinetics]

Solaris VII, Western Cathay, 0950 Hours

As the two 'Mechs maneuvered through the torn-up streets towards their next position, the siblings chatted about how things had been. With Bloodhound being assigned more patrol duties due to her Light 'Mech, while James rotated in and out of patrol, response, garrison, and training, they hadn't had much chance to see each other since the Riots began. All the while they both checked their Sensors. James, being the tougher of the two, ran on Passive, masking his radar signature so any over-enthusiastic hostiles would only detect a simple Owens. If any attempted to attack, they'd suddenly encounter a very vicious-looking Bushwacker.

What neither of them counted on, however, was that a Davion or Steiner would be smart enough to do the same. As they passed an industrial car park, a Banshee suddenly came to life. It exploded out of the car park and into the road right in front of the two Arena fighters. What surprised both of them the most, however, as they came to a stop and James went Active, was the symbol emblazoned on the big 'Mech's right shoulder.

The emblem of the 32nd Lyran Guards.

James opened fire first, letting off a mid-range Alpha Strike to try and do some damage. Releasing some coolant to keep the heat levels down, he continued to fire his MPL, while slowly retreating. A second later, his sister let off a barrage of rockets, and raked the Banshee's waist with her laser. "Bloodhound to HQ." She sent over the comms. "We have encountered a Banshee in Sector 215, Street 8, belonging to the Red Arrows. Requesting immediate assistance!"

"Copy that, Bloodhound, dispatching response teams now. ETA: 5 minutes." HQ responded, fear apparent in his voice. "You get out of there, you won't last long against a 'Mech that strong."

"Negative." Bloodhound responded, continuing her rocket barrage on the Banshee, as it slowly turned to face its assailants, burning through her ammo supplies. Evidently, whoever owned this 'Mech had added some more armour. Curiously, it hadn't yet fired its weapons, which at this range could single-handedly take out the Owens and Bushwacker.

"Listen to HQ, Bloodhound. You're not strong enough to take this guy on!" James yelled at her, thundering away with the Rifle in his left arm. Armour-piercing rounds rang out, impacting the right arm and torso of the Banshee. "Run, before he-"

He was interrupted by a blinding flash from the Banshee, as its PPC shot out and at Bloodhound. Unable to aim properly from all the weapons fire impacting his 'Mech, the pilot had chosen to just fire blindly. That was probably the only thing that saved Bloodhound, as the PPC impacted her left leg, blowing away the joint. The Light 'Mech wobbled briefly before falling to the side, crushing the launcher in her left arm and sending volatile rockets spilling into the street.

"NADI!" James yelled, stopping his 'Mech and putting himself between the Banshee and its prey, instinctively protecting her baby sister. His face contorted in anger, and he focused all of his attention on the Lyran. At a steadily closing range he opened up with all of his weapons, bathing the Banshee in explosions and red lasers. His heat levels slowly creeped upwards, and he occasionally released coolant to help keep it controlled. He wasn't going to let this bastard hurt his sister. His missiles quickly ran out of ammunition, leaving him with just the laser and Rifle, and that last one wasn't going to last very long itself. He stood his ground.

[Ularn]

"Tinkerbell!" Jaz roared at James over the comm when there was no response to her initial order. She was on an open comm channel now so that all the other prospective mercs in the team could witness her verbal barrage. Private chastisement had failed; maybe this would work, "You have exactly eight seconds to turn off your active sensors and get your ass back from Dismeyland or I swear to God the moment we're done here I will calibrate Bulldyke's launchers using that pathetic excuse for an erectile dysfunction treatment you call a vehicle, now wake the fuck up 'mechwarrior!"

[SaintB]

Dave spoke up on the comms, not in defense of Timberwolf but because the screaming hurt his ears and there was no tactical reason not to run active scanners as long as the ECM was running "This is Bear to Bitch, I'm running ECM so if you and Timberwolf can hang within 180 meters of me we can all run every sensor suite we want without worrying about pinging the Opfor mam."

In truth Bear was getting a little worried, they should be less than 600 meters from the target zone but not a single contact was on the scopes... he had a thoery as to why but he was playing the part of another clueless jocky. The thick forest and hilly terrain they were navigating made eyeballing it nearly useless since they'd literally have to be on top of the enemy before they saw each other in which case Bear would have to protect the rest of the support lance with his pulse lasers.

_______________________________________________________

Occupied Deutschland:

As you start heading southish the Mark 1 Eyeball reveals a stocky fast moving silhouette traveling around the east side of ridgeline near the center of the map with a quick but ackward gate, less than half a km away.

[Ularn]

Dave spoke up on the comms, not in defense of Timberwolf but because the screaming hurt his ears and there was no tactical reason not to run active scanners as long as the ECM was running "This is Bear to Bitch, I'm running ECM so if you and Timberwolf can hang within 180 meters of me we can all run every sensor suite we want without worrying about pinging the Opfor mam."

In truth Bear was getting a little worried, they should be less than 600 meters from the target zone but not a single contact was on the scopes... he had a thoery as to why but he was playing the part of another clueless jocky. The thick forest and hilly terrain they were navigating made eyeballing it nearly useless since they'd literally have to be on top of the enemy before they saw each other in which case Bear would have to protect the rest of the support lance with his pulse lasers.

"And what's the OpFor going to think when they see a great big patch of ECM static on their sensors?" Jaz shot back, frustrated that not even the Colonel could follow her instructions, "Support Lance, I order you to shut down all ECM and active sensors right now. No-one goes loud until I give the order, over!"
Jaz's hands were shaking on the control stick with rage. What was the Colonel thinking, firing off his ECM suite already? Even a cadet knew the presence of an ECM suite could leave tell-tale traces of static and interference on an enemy's sensors which, though no good for identification or target acquisition, was still a perfect way of letting them know a) there was something there, and b) it was trying to hide itself. The plan required that the Main Lance stayed hidden for as long as possible and the best thing the Support Lace could do to facilitate that was not call attention to itself either
Besides, since the Recon Lance was meant to be feeding them targeting data as it approached the enemy base, there was no reason for her lance to use their own sensors yet. Jaz believed in keeping things simple and controlling the number of variables in any situation; going active with sensors and ECM before battle was even joined created far too many what if? scenarios for her liking.
By activating his ECM, Gun Bear could have just fucked up the entire mission, and that told Jaz one of two things. Either her prospective CO was a moron, or he was behaving like one on purpose to test Jaz. Neither was a good thing for her, even if his actions might have been justified as an acceptable risk, that was not his call to make while Jaz was in charge of the lance. She momentarily flicked the comms unit to switch to a private link between her and the Colonel and said "With all due respect sir, if I'm in command of this lance then I am in command. Please do not second guess me, disobey, or countermand my orders or behave like a backseat driver in this simulation, again. Out."
Jaz switched her comm back to public, feeling a little bit calmer.

[Occupied Deutschland]

Occupied Deutschland:

As you start heading southish the Mark 1 Eyeball reveals a stocky fast moving silhouette traveling around the east side of ridgeline near the center of the map with a quick but ackward gate, less than half a km away.

Walther slammed his Locust to a stop and manipulated the controls to duck the cockpit slightly, keeping as low a profile as he could. Thankfully, it seemed like the other mech hadn’t noticed him yet. He began to zoom in his view but the new, slightly lower, angle of his own cockpit meant he couldn’t see the area he had first noticed the movement in. Could be Julius making his way up to me…

Stealing a glance at the map he had sketched earlier, Walther thought for a moment. If Julius had moved as quickly as he had then it was possible that that was what he had seen. But Julius had had to navigate some rougher terrain, so he might still be making his way over it and be moments away from running into whatever it was down there. But he definitely didn’t want to fire on a friendly, and coms, while a good possibility, were even more likely to be intercepted now that he was closer to the Opfor’s base. But…

Jumping to a decision, Walther raised his mech back to its full height and slowly started out in the direction he had seen the movement come from.

“Possible contact bearing six-seven relative near the ridge on the eastern end of the forest. Andromeda what’s your status?” Walther broadcast as he squinted and stared at the area he had first seen the movement in for further clues. One finger held hovering over the switch that would activate his sensor suite while his others inched their way closer to the firing controls. It could be Julius…

[SaintB]

Occupied Deutschland:

As you start heading southish the Mark 1 Eyeball reveals a stocky fast moving silhouette traveling around the east side of ridgeline near the center of the map with a quick but ackward gate, less than half a km away.

Walther slammed his Locust to a stop and manipulated the controls to duck the cockpit slightly, keeping as low a profile as he could. Thankfully, it seemed like the other mech hadn’t noticed him yet. He began to zoom in his view but the new, slightly lower, angle of his own cockpit meant he couldn’t see the area he had first noticed the movement in. Could be Julius making his way up to me…

Stealing a glance at the map he had sketched earlier, Walther thought for a moment. If Julius had moved as quickly as he had then it was possible that that was what he had seen. But Julius had had to navigate some rougher terrain, so he might still be making his way over it and be moments away from running into whatever it was down there. But he definitely didn’t want to fire on a friendly, and coms, while a good possibility, were even more likely to be intercepted now that he was closer to the Opfor’s base. But…

Jumping to a decision, Walther raised his mech back to its full height and slowly started out in the direction he had seen the movement come from.

“Possible contact bearing six-seven relative near the ridge on the eastern end of the forest. Andromeda what’s your status?” Walther broadcast as he squinted and stared at the area he had first seen the movement in for further clues. One finger held hovering over the switch that would activate his sensor suite while his others inched their way closer to the firing controls. It could be Julius…

OD:
The bogey 'mech changes its course toward you, its torso swiveling left and right as the pilot of the 'mech checks their sides and then ups the throttle to close distance between you and it. Passive targeting pings it as an enemy contact: Jenner chassis of unidentified variant.

[JuNii]

She scanned the wooded areas, relying on passive scans... no sign of the recon lance... or the OPFor on her scanners.

but... scanners are not the only things in play...

she unfocused her eyes... widening her peripheral vision to pick up anything unusual... her eyes refocused on the trees... some were moving wrong. Mechs moving though the trees... recon lances... she counted 8 tracks... her recon lance and the OPFor... she slowly sidled her mech sideways and flashed her exterior running lights to signal the others.

She readied her weapons... but with her team's lance in the mix... she didn't want to risk friendly fire on a guess.

[Occupied Deutschland]

OD:
The bogey 'mech changes its course toward you, its torso swiveling left and right as the pilot of the 'mech checks their sides and then ups the throttle to close distance between you and it. Passive targeting pings it as an enemy contact: Jenner chassis of unidentified variant.

Walther cursed. That definitely wasn’t Julius.

“Confirmed contact, looks like a Jenner. I’ll draw him off.” Walther spat out. Contrary to the relatively benign sound of his message however, he stabbed down on the firing pin that controlled two of his small lasers. Immediately the heat in his cockpit jumped, but along with the increase in temperature a pair of red-orange beams of coherent light flew out at the enemy mech.

Shifting his attention without even bothering to examine the results of his snap-shot, Walther turned his mech’s legs as much as he could while still keeping the torso oriented towards the Jenner, and brought his speed back up, trying to slow the rate at which the enemy mech approached. They usually mounted missiles in the arm turrets, and since the other mech hadn’t immediately released a salvo at him, he probably had SRMs. The longer the guy spent trying to close to a range he could use them, the less time he had to pay attention to his sensors. Which meant, hopefully, Julius could come up from behind and give him a nasty surprise.

But where the hell is Julius?

Well, they know where I am now, so…Walther flipped his sensors to active, one eye on the Jenner ahead of him and the other on his battlemap.

[SaintB]

OD:
The bogey 'mech changes its course toward you, its torso swiveling left and right as the pilot of the 'mech checks their sides and then ups the throttle to close distance between you and it. Passive targeting pings it as an enemy contact: Jenner chassis of unidentified variant.

Walther cursed. That definitely wasn’t Julius.

“Confirmed contact, looks like a Jenner. I’ll draw him off.” Walther spat out. Contrary to the relatively benign sound of his message however, he stabbed down on the firing pin that controlled two of his small lasers. Immediately the heat in his cockpit jumped, but along with the increase in temperature a pair of red-orange beams of coherent light flew out at the enemy mech.

Shifting his attention without even bothering to examine the results of his snap-shot, Walther turned his mech’s legs as much as he could while still keeping the torso oriented towards the Jenner, and brought his speed back up, trying to slow the rate at which the enemy mech approached. They usually mounted missiles in the arm turrets, and since the other mech hadn’t immediately released a salvo at him, he probably had SRMs. The longer the guy spent trying to close to a range he could use them, the less time he had to pay attention to his sensors. Which meant, hopefully, Julius could come up from behind and give him a nasty surprise.

But where the hell is Julius?

Well, they know where I am now, so…Walther flipped his sensors to active, one eye on the Jenner ahead of him and the other on his battlemap.

Seconds after powering your sensors on HUD data declares its a JR-7D. Your small laser fire falls short of its range and the enemy continues closing undaunted; firing two medium lasers that only succeed in leaving afterglow slicing through the air where you used to be. The Jenner makes a sharp turn and heads back toward the target facility parallel to you at a 45 degree angle keeping its torso facing toward you to avoid being shot in the back.