"Why are we still here? Just to suffer?"

Systems check. Main system engaged. System switched to normal mode.

"Every night I can feel my arm, my leg, even my fingers...

"Bernard? B.F.F.?"

The body I've lost... the comrades I've lost... it's like they're all still--

Representing the interests of the Bernard and Felix Foundation, the Spirit of Motherwill is the answer to any battlefield dilemma. If the world calls for wet-work, we answer! No greater good! No just cause!

"BERNARD!"

His attention flicked to right now. First thing he felt was the heat. It was a lit cigarette, hanging from the gray scruff of his beard, like a dog with a bone in its mouth. Second thing was the smell; leather, sweat, disinfectant, iron filings. He let out a booming cough, but the Snake Eater didn't respond to it this time. Ah, that's right. The fight was already over.

"Hmmh..." he grumbled, taking in the scene around him. The mechanics were working hard on the machines around him, sparks and metal dust giving the air the kind of texture that Bernard liked to wake up to. Not that he'd been sleeping again; no, this was more like... autopilot. He flexed his thoughts, stretched them out, turned the shape of them over. With arthritis in his own little ways, he sorted out his memories and set the heavier ones aside. Those could be looked at later, like cassette tapes in his soul. For the moment, it looked like he had company. He shifted in his comfy cockpit, and raised his eyebrows at the source of the voice below. Looks like it was Donald Anderson trying to get his attention again, good man, that. Bernard couldn't quite make out what he was saying, but he rapped his knuckles on the dull steel of his helmet in good humor. This got a laugh from the big guy below, and the signal intelligence operator wandered off. Systems evaluations, probably, diagnostics-- it was a routine checkup. Bernard took another long drag at his cigarette, and had another one rolled in a jiffy. He watched the smoke spiral up again as he pressed the flat of his palm against the smooth metal encasing his temples. He remembered the girls from earlier... Avice, Maia. Bella had taken a jab, and kitten got her shot in too. He closed his eyes...

And he reached down to the side of his seat. His fingers were too big. Bernard spent some time jostling it back and forth before he was able to find that notepad from earlier, the one that Cecilia had tossed him before the last mission. With all this excitement, he hadn't had time to go over it until now. He looked at the names, no pictures, but descriptions of personalities. He read the papers, and could tell who was who by the way they'd moved, surrounded, encircled the enemy in that last op. Cecilia, to the point, always brusque, tactics with her at the helm moved fast, hit hard, and ended fights quickly. In the B.F.F.'s experience, this way of thinking was exactly the kind that would maximize the chances of survival. It was one of the reasons he respected the kitten so, despite the difference in age. He smiled a wry smile; her decisiveness was a bit precocious, but as long as it got everybody out alive. He paused, considering that confrontation at the bridge. The squad had done just fine, for a first outing. Bernard closed his eyes, trying to visualize the important details. He remembered the way that Edward and Ryder coordinated themselves, a good habit... Elaine was moving safe, fighting smart... Bernard's brow furrowed in concentration, he looked over the neat lines of notes again. Harold Bjornson. That one was tricky. He'd disengaged multiple safeties on his machine, overextended in his positioning, took potshots at a better collected enemy detachment like he was playing some kind of video game. It was like the boy had been raised in VR, not the first time that Bernard had seen soldiers like that. They tended to be impulsive, gamblers with more lives than just their own. Bernard snorted, another plume of smoke staining the insides of his Handou. Not so different than Bernard had been, once upon a time.

At this, Bernard uncoiled from his seat, stepped, leapt, and landed on the workshop floor with a resounding clang. He collected himself, adjusted his jacket, and made his way to the bridge with a nod and wave to whoever of the bustling personnel noticed the old man on his walk. He navigated the hallways like a tank in human form, treading good-naturedly through the halls, implacable even when he was just out for errands. This time he was looking for one Richard Benson. The kids would probably go out and entertain themselves at port. For the moment, Bernard hoped that an Old Snake and an Old Panther could shoot the shit over some liquor. He had some thoughts on his mind.

"Not bad for a rookie team, I would think.” Cecilia heard Harold comment. She turned to him as he came down the ramp, a spring in his step and that all-too friendly smile emblazoned on his face. Unlike her jacket, which was worn around the shoulders and full of creases, his was unmarred, like it had come right out of the packaging. Everyone in the unit could practically tell who had seniority by how faded their leather was.

"Depends what scale you use," Cecilia answered. "Had it just been us older guys, I'd have rated it as 'awful,' but now that we're half and half, I'll spare you some leeway." The edges of her lips curled into a hint of a smile - blink and you'd miss it. When Harold had asked about his performance in particular, she let out a puff of air from her nose that must have been akin to a laugh and replied,

"We've got plenty of adjustments to make, but I'm not in the mood for critique; not when we're off-duty. Sorry if you're a masochist that way." Edward, followed by Richard and a couple more Panthers appeared from the landcruiser.

"Wish I could tag along," Richard sighed. "I've got to meet with Cradle about the op. Formalities and such. Still haven't said anything about what we're carrying, though..."

As Richard was wrapping up his sentence, he narrowed his eyes to get a better look at the girl running right for him. When he finally recognized her, his face stretched into a pearly grin before being smothered in her grip.

"Srhr!" he muffled into her chest. Sarah had evidently returned from a period of personal leave, and with little notice save for a bear hug to mark her arrival.

"I had no idea when you were coming back," Richard continued, pulling himself free. "As you can see, we've got a few new faces. I'll let you get acquainted; Cradle expects me very soon." The cargo trucks rolled down the Samigina's ramp and Richard hopped into the passenger seat of the lead vehicle.

"You need me, send a blip to my padd. Have fun, now!" he shouted out the window, giving a 'bottoms up' gesture as the trucks rolled away.

"Sarah, it's been a while," Cecilia remarked. "Did you need a break from my voice that badly?" She'd been spared the fate of a crushing hug that had befallen the other Panthers, although she knew how hard Sarah was trying to hold back.

-----

Inside the Samigina, a smooth-faced tech crewman bumped into Bernard as he turned a narrow corner. It was entirely the crewman's fault; he'd had his eyes glued to the screen in his hands and hadn't noticed the aging pilot in front of him.

"Shit! Apologies, man," he stammered, picking himself up. "Uh, if you're looking for Bentz or the others, I think everyone left. Your buddies are going out for a night on the town and Rich had to take the cargo you brought back to Cradle. Man, I wish I knew what was in there. Don't you? Some kinda super-weapon or something? I don't think even Bentz knows!"

Ryder found herself zoned out while she made some slight reparations to her FRAME. She was content with her work despite any comments made by her fellow Panthers. Theta did well in such close combat, but then again, Ryder had always preferred to get up close and personal or stay a ways back. Trading hits with rifles was never in her playbook. Perhaps she just didn't think she could hold her own in an equal firefight, but Ryder didn't care for these insecurities. Each of the new Panthers did relatively well and no one got killed. That was a plus.

With the new tech available, Ryder spent quite a bit of time with her FRAME, searching for any vulnerabilities in order to assess any upgrades Theta might need. With the addition of Active Camouflage and Reactive Armor, Ryder was a bit excited to upgrade her friend. Both would make good additions to her quick and close up battle tactics.

After going out to purchase the materials with the new credits she was given from the mission, which she was surprised to receive at all, she had not left the Samigina during the duration of their stay in Hamarr. She had no reason to. Ryder was really only seen going about her daily business on the Samigina. She worked on Theta alone, trained alone, and dined alone. Occasionally Ryder would give quick, one sentence responses to the Samigina's crew. It was a daily occurrence for her to speak to one of the ship's mechanics as she sometimes had questions about FRAMEs.

She tried to hide it the best she could, but Ryder was not the most experienced in the upkeep and management of FRAMEs. She had managed to use Theta fairly well in combat, but other than that, she was a complete newbie. It seems she knew this man, but not even Ryder remembered what happened before her awakening in the hospital. The man hadn't spoken about it, so Ryder had assumed it was a coincidence. Flashes of her past came in bursts. This is how she first learned she was no stranger to combat, hence she became a mercenary.

A confused look crossed her face as Ryder stood before her FRAME, numerous crates of pieces and parts. It was time for Theta's upgrades. She had little idea how to do this, of course. Ryder had no other option but to fetch her mechanic friend; Jack was his name. Over the course of the next few days, Ryder awoke early in the morning to watch Jack repair and upgrade Theta, listening to his explanations as he did so. She wasn't much one for talking, but simply listening and learning was quite enjoyable.

With the cargo's departure came the arrival of a new FRAME in the hangar, an old looking desert-camouflaged Handou with "YASSIR" stenciled upon the outer-thighs in big subdued brown letters, its chest bristling with heavy machine-guns, a mortar-module strapped to its back, and a large scoped GPR-21 clipped to its shoulder like some tin-soldier at parade-rest.

The pilot however, was not present. She was elsewhere at one of the local port-side establishments; word had already reached her of the Panthers's arrival, but she wanted to see how these mercenaries handled themselves when they wouldn't think anyone on their team was watching.

To simply blend-in, the child of a farmer and soldier for as long as she could remember had worn a simple lightweight red shawl over a brown yếm and a blue denim-skirt. She tried her best not to draw too much attention to herself by sitting in a lonely looking corner and surrounding herself with junk-mail advertisements to sort through in addition to the contents of her smart-pad as she sipped coffee by herself.

Cradle Headquarters - Hamarr

"Please, Mr. Bentz, have a seat."

Richard sat himself into a plush office chair adjacent to the desk in the rear of the room. He was face-to-face with a smiling representative with tidy makeup and not a wrinkle in her garments. The nameplate sitting on the desk read Amelia E. Blake. As his eyes wandered the room, he marveled at how spotless and free of clutter it was; like the cover of a home and living magazine.

"Coffee? Tea?"

"I'll have a coffee, thanks. Black with sugar."

Amelia stood and stepped over to a small beverage machine at the left of the room, a well-rehearsed grace in her gait. She passed him a cup and saucer that looked almost too expensive to drink from and returned to her seat.

"The Director wished to express his regret that he could not meet you personally, Mr. Bentz. He was very impressed with the way you handled the operation."

"Oh, we just did our job, Ms. Blake," Richard replied. "It was our pleasure to aid Cradle Industries in this endeavor."

"Of course. Your team retrieved an extremely valuable asset to us."

"What do you think the OSU will make of this? I don't suppose they'd just allow... whatever it was we stole to remain in Cradle's possession?"

The representative gave Richard a wry smile and continued, "Most likely not, but that's where you come in. The Director wishes to extend your contract with Cradle - indefinitely."

"Indefinitely?!" Richard blurted, in the middle of a sip.

"That's right; the Panthers are valuable to the security of this company, Mr. Bentz. The Director wishes to keep your team close by, in the event Cradle meets any other complications down the line. In truth, 'indefinitely' is however long it takes for Cradle to complete its top-priority project; which has resumed, thanks to your retrieval of the asset earlier this week. Realistically speaking, we've estimated a period of about four months until its completion."

"Cradle's really giving pouring everything into this, huh?" Richard mused. "Well, if the Director plans to keep us around solely for the security of this... project - would it be too much to ask just what it was we stole?"

"The Director wanted to speak to you personally regarding that matter," Amelia sighed. "I'm afraid I cannot disclose any details without his express consent, but I can tell you that this project will-"



The two were startled by what sounded like a dull explosion outside. The Cradle representative bounded to the window, pulling open the blinds to reveal the aftermath of a collision between a nearby section of Cradle's headquarters and what was probably a rocket. Debris and smoke hemorrhaged from the point of impact.

"Dammit!" Amelia cursed, her hands balled into fists and teeth gritted. "We'll resume later, Mr. Bentz. Have your team defend the headquarters at all costs!" She dialed a number and brought her padd to her ear.

"Director? ... Yes, that's correct. Cradle Headquarters is under attack. ... Yes, sir. Bentz is on it. ... I will, sir." She shot Richard a grave look and he gave her a nod, gathering himself from the chair and making a call of his own.

-----

"Pwuah!"

Cecilia slammed the glass on the surface of the bar, setting it next to what could only be described as a pile of discarded shot glasses. Cheers erupted from around the bar; onlookers who had paused their pool and dart games to witness a head-to-head between Cecilia and a one-eyed veteran with a ruddy face.

"Looks like you're straining a little, there," she jeered.

"Whuh? Ne'er! Ah've got plen'y o' figh' n' me yet," the old man gurgled. He reached for another glass, visibly tittering in his seat.

"Yeah? I think you've had your last-"



"What the fuck?"

The noise in the bar dropped to an empty silence as a blast echoed from the streets. Cecilia turned to the other Panthers, who had also been downing glasses and making merriment just a few second prior. The bartender grabbed a remote, flipping through the TV stations until he got to a local channel, a shaky news anchor fronting the headlines.

"-urging everyone to stay inside until an all-clear has been given. There has been no confirmation of who may be responsible for this. Authorities say Cradle Industries's headquarters have been damaged-"



More violent sounds could be heard, both outside the bar and coming from the TV's speakers.

"Fuck; Richard!" Cecilia hissed. Then, the Panthers' padds beeped and she brought hers to her ear.

"Panthers!" Richard shouted. "Cradle's under attack! Get to the Samigina ASAP! You are to protect the HQ at all costs, do you understand me?"

"We copy, Director! On our way!" Cecilia jumped from the barstool and waved her teammates outside. "You heard 'im! Let's go!"

The Panthers stormed outside in search of the nearest taxi, leaving behind empty bottles and a weeks worth of cleanup.

"But... your tab!"

-----

On-board the Samigina, crewmen zig-zagged around the hangar, postponing tests and checks to get the FRAMEs combat-ready after a moment's notice. Richard's voice echoed through the cabins, alerting everyone on-board of the sudden shitstorm they'd just gotten pulled into. The machines had already had weapons affixed to their hardpoints - urban-oriented loadouts. They were already being disconnected and lined up, prepping for launch with hardly any time after the pilots arrived. All that was required was they pull on their helmets and harnesses and strap in.

Sarah took comfort in the people she trusted. That being she never really had anyone to trust. Very little got in the way between her and those few people. Hence the multiple suicide runs she took to "Save", them. No matter how much it pissed off her CO Cecilia. She smiled as she was pried off of Richard and looked up grinning like a four year old who just got some candy. "Nope. You know me, I went off on an epic quest. Braved the high seas, fought pirates and took down a dictator or two!", the funny thing is with her it was not only near impossible to tell if she was lying, but knowing her it probably wasn't far from the truth. If a little embellished. "I got bored...", she chuckled before she stared down Cecilia in near agony withholding herself. When she was asked the question she grinned, "Indeed, Yas darlink, It was terrible!", She gave a goofy smile. "I missed you", she gave her a small pat on the back and then manhandled her anyway. "We need booze!", as they left she waved to Richard. "Bai!", on the way as usual it took a small tactical nuke to shut her up. Then quite the few shots of vodka to act as a tranquillizer. She scribbled the name of the chairman of the OSU on a post it, licked it and smacked it on Cecilias forehead. Then as usual shanghaied as many people as possible into the game. Drinking and laughing before a ear shattering boom echoed. A security alert shot through her implants as the bartender fumbled with the remote. There has been an attack on the FRAME manufacturer Cradle Dynamics, authorities are advising civilians to stay out of areas three and four, DOWN WITH THE LIES OF THE SL!., her smile dropped as she looked to Cecilia as she in turn looked at the rest of the crew. A rumbling came and shook the glasses on the bar, BOOOM!....KABOOOM! She had a sick looking grin on her face. "FOR VALOUR!", she shouted as she heard her CO speak. "KILL THE FUCKERS!", she jumped over the table. Not waiting for the others to leave and bolted out the door, kind of looking like a rabid dog. Her ears picking up her CO telling Richard they were on the way. She still had the name Sarah Duncan slapped on her forehead. She really was that non-observant.

Her haste to get to the Samigina paid off. She arrived moments before the rest of the crew and had already strapped in by the time everyone had gotten to the hanger. Her damn engineer however had not finished servicing her power distributor. She was hailing a stream of expletives, most of which would be unknown to SL ears as she switched to her home language when really, really pissed. It was always known though she wasn't angry with the engineer. She knew he was doing what he could. She jumped out and nearly rammed the poor guy out the way. He chuckled, closed his eyes and shook his head. Knowing she was going to pull some crazy bull. And that she did. She ripped out a load of wires and bypassed systems she didn't see as important. Power stabilizers. Naaah... Failsafes...Boring....She heard a nasty electrical sparking as the power welded it together and then grinned wide as the winding of servos told her Mr. Bubbles was online. "Mr. B!", She shouted and clambered back into him. Running some last minute tests. "Diagnostics!", she shouted. Trying to hurry up as she didn't want to miss the battle. She didn't much care about Cradle, she wanted to be the one to get the first points on the scoreboard. Yes...She had a damn scoreboard.... Systems check.....servos Normal...Visuals Normal...Power levels....57% output..., "God damnit!", She shouted and realised she didn't have time to make anymore alterations and ejected her FRAME from the Samigina. Landing and then pelting herself at full speed to Cradle. "Operation time?" 46% reduction, she grumbled.

Harold was trailing the others. All in all- he felt quite left out, and his apparently awful job at taking no damage and disabling two or three out of twelve enemies had him a little down. The rest of his new team were quiet, reserved, and scarred, unwilling to just shove it all aside and be whoever they want to be. Or maybe that is what they want to be. He didn't know.

So far, he'd had a rather bad luck with the people on his team. Get chewed out, get ignored, get told that his job is good for a beginning, but nothing more. He didn't like these kinds of people. He liked talking, and if he tried to approach any of them and say something, they'd just look at him.

So he trailed the group of them, entering a bar just like the rest of them, though not out of personal preference. He'd much rather shop for something to attach to Jupiter- miscellaneous gear, or maybe get a paint job or something to personalize it. Either way, it wasn't happening. The OSU weren't exactly nice- they moved on those who cross them, and they just crossed them. Not that he wouldn't have, if given the choice; he got a relatively massive paycheck compared to his last job. The problem was that he was feeling slightly paranoid about an OSU sniper or agent coming up and sticking a knife into his lonely back.

So he stuck with the pack.

When everyone's PDA's starting going off, simultaneously, Harold was the second one to whip it out and take the message in. Naturally, he turned and ran after Sarah, who had already barged out the door. He wasn't exactly the most athletic, but he managed a good enough clip behind the steadily distant Sarah.

By the time he made it back to the Samigina, he was well and thoroughly exhausted, and promised himself that he needed to get a car or something, next time he decided to go into town. It was ridiculous to run so long!

He rushed up the ramp, running past three other mechs until he reached his own. Hatch already open, he yelled for the mechanic to start booting it up, while he climbed in and did a systems check. A minute after Sarah had screwed up her own, but still launched, he was down and on the ground, rollers engaging. Still slightly ahead of everyone else except anyone else who had rushed a bit too much, he darted off after Sarah, cursing her for her foolishness- he couldn't connect to her systems, because her transmitter was sparking on and off due to low power.

He hefted his autocannon with both hands, disappeared down a side street, and activated his active camo. From there, he started taking a slower, alternate route to the source of the explosions, autocannon at the ready, tracking his teammates- 'save for Sarah- and getting ready to provide intelligence.

Cecilia pulled on her helmet and her harness, thoughtfully placed inside the cockpit by her crewmen. She was anxious, and one could tell from the crook in her brow. Most of these Panthers had only one op under their belts as a team, and they were already being thrust into the frying pan. Somehow, they'd have to overcome their lack of team cohesion in a matter of minutes, or get their asses handed to them by whatever was out there. Worse still, they had no idea what they were up against. Unlike a proper op, they were going in blind. Cecilia decided it'd be up to her to keep things organized. She sighed - she really ought to appoint herself a subordinate.

The cockpit hatch closed overhead, and Cecilia strapped herself in. The glare of the monitors washed over her, informing her that her new Kirin was running up to par. She dipped the footpedals, sending the FRAME down the Samigina's ramp and onto the streets of Hamarr.

The moments prior to an engagement were critical. A team needed to position itself in the best avenue of attack, while minimizing risk. Obtaining fire superiority was the key to winning engagements, and in a dense urban jungle like Hamarr, that was no exception. The Panthers needed to get eyes on target and identify the threat, preferably before it could do the same.

"Pair up," Cecilia voiced. "Watch each other's back. These streets are tight; it's easy to get caught with your pants down." She maneuvered behind a corner, peering with just the bare minimum of her FRAME's opticals exposed. The radar was dead so far, although her C3 suite marked the location of buildings and friendly FRAMEs.

"Great, they're probably got jamming equipment active. If you've got ECM, do the same. Use your visuals."

She ticked the thermal optic switch on the control panel and her main screen doused everything in a monochrome haze. The streetlights and windows, lit up in white, dotted her vision. More explosions could be heard a few streets away. Cecilia waved the Panthers forward, scooting around the corner of 31st and Highview. She scanned the adjacent streets and alleyways as they passed by, keeping up a vigilant guard. When she'd reached Bembroke Street, she peered around a commercial office, coming face to face with the barrel of an autocannon.

Fuck! "Contact!!" Cecilia retreated back behind the building, raising her weapon and blind-firing around the corner to suppress the FRAMEs on the other side. Although he'd barely gotten a glimpse at them, she recognized the silhouette - XM5 Barghests. FRAME of choice for Perizian Union force recon units. These FRAMEs however, had no identifying markings on their chassis. Although there were only two down Highview, Cecilia had no doubt that there were plenty more, probably moving to take advantage of the confusion.

"Spread out! Eyes on all sectors! We can't afford to get pinned down!"

Sarah's laughter eerily glitches across the coms, she hadn't had any ECM installed, since the new supplies hadn't been ordered when she had left on leave. "Dun...da da da....dun...dadadada!", She singed as she swinged around the corner wide around Cecilia to get a good view of the 30mm autocannon pointed at her face and to hear her commander glitchly shout contact!. However, unlike her more sensible superior whom kept tight to her corners Sarah was out in the open. To any rational normal person this would be a stressful situation.Sarahs' manic grin suggested otherwise as she forced her wheels into overdrive. Speeding head on to the frame that Cecilia had just distracted then jumped to miss a shot from the machines powerful auto cannon to land Mr.Bubbles feet squarely into the mechanoids chest. Quickly grabbing the machines left arm and using the shearing force of the kick to pull the whole arm out of it's socket. Mr. Bubbles then kindly informed her that that little stunt had eaten about 10 minutes of basic operations time. Leaving her with a maximum of sixty minutes on the operational clock, more like thirty considering Mr.B didn't even have access to basic diagnostics.. "GOOOOOALLL!",she shouted over the coms as she rose up sounding quite like a sportscaster on an old crappy radio. Lifting her autocanon and firing point blank into her victims chest. Cecilia as usual having to clean up the mess she was leaving. Pretty epically exposed right now, if she hadn't been suppressing the other XM5 Sarah would have had a nice AT missile rammed straight into her cocky mouth.

If she now wasn't having autocannon fire spread at her she would have show boated to boot.She looked over to see the rest of the team lining up against the wall. Quickly thinking about her tactical position it took her a split second to signal she was going to get to the other side of the street. It would give her CO the ability to have a wider view of the street as well as allow her to cover a possible advancement of the team. Sarah was quick to get herself over to the other corner and began to fire at the other FRAME causing problems for the team to spread. Blindfire of course as the tempting target of Sarahs ass had been a much needed distraction for him. As well as the rest of the Panthers. "Miss!", she called into the radio. "Gameplan? or are we winging this like the Manchu incident?", she giggled as a rather large looking shell missed her gun and frame arm to blow up a car across the road. The car was thrown into the building behind and she kind of just blinked at it.

Bernard had all but run over a kid playing with a padd, definitely not what the aging pilot wanted to see when he was in the mood for some liquor. He bent forward to hear what the kid was saying, nodded stonefaced as he soaked in the fact that he'd just missed everybody. He was about to grumble before offering the chico a smoke, but before he could respond, his Codec started yelling at him. He pressed his knuckles into his temples-- he didn't have to check the specifics to know what it was trying to tell him. If he moved like a tank before, he moved like a faster tank now, keeping his curses to himself as he tried to turn the damn thing off. He burst into the frantic activity of the Samigina hangar, everybody scrambling to battlestations, the pilots expected to scramble at a moment's notice. Unlucky that most of the rest of the crew had gone out for drinks, but as he strapped into the new and improved Snake Eater, the old man felt a certain amount of freedom. There was just a battle ahead, no orders, no need to hold back. He caught a glance of Ryder near her machine as he climbed into the cockpit, and grinned. A girl raised by the old guard huh? It hadn't been in Cecilia's notes, but B.F.F. could recognize a countryman, a real countryman, when he saw one. He threw out the salute of the old Emarran State in case she'd catch it, and with a clang of his hatch, he was on his way.

---

He took in the smoke of the battlefield first, letting it mix with the taste of his foul smelling cigarettes. It wasn't as good as a stiff drink, but it wasn't so bad. At the moment he was acting as a vanguard, his only aim to sow chaos behind enemy lines. Truth be told, he was a lot more comfortable when the chips were down and the alarms were going off-- he could count the times when everything had gone perfectly on one hand, but he'd kept all his fingers so far by being able to handle things when a battle developed as per the usual pandemonium. Bernard's Handou rumbled down Highview Street, a stone rolling through a river. It was something of a shame that the city streets had turned into a battlefield. Another fifteen minutes or so of this, and a river wouldn't be such a bad way to describe the alleyways of Hamarr. Snake Eater rumbled low to the ground as Bernard caught his first mark, the old soldier keeping the engine gunning even lower, trying to keep his heat and noise down. B.F.F had the mechanics of piloting a FRAME down to a sweet, sweet science, and knew a few tricks that he'd decided to let Elaine and the rest of the younger guns figure out for themselves.

First thing was that he could more or less mask his heat signature by running his engine in fits and bursts, letting it push his machine and cruise until he'd just started to run down on momentum. The concept was similar to driving a stick shift, not that any of the younger pilots would know. Heat vision for a large, non-organic shape like a FRAME was conducted in stages-- unlike a human body that was constantly painted with radiant heat, heat signatures are usually tracked at a FRAME's center of mass, where the core and engines are located. By letting the heat rise and fall, Bernard could create an iffy looking heat signature, difficult to notice and even more tricky to target blind. More than that, there were two reasons why his controls vibrated when he snored. First, because he'd practiced so well with them that they had started to loosen; usually it was something that would be tuned up during regular maintenance before it got nearly as bad as shaky controls, but Sigint and the rest of the shop crew knew well and good that loose was the way that Old Snake liked it. Second, he'd deliberately kept and forced a certain lack of responsiveness in his controls-- roughly 1.972 seconds of input latency, he'd be able to tell you if anyone bothered to ask. This would be very important, when the old man was snoring, he preferred to take things slow.

Well, there were actually three reasons that his controls shook when he snored. The man snores damn loud.



Target spotted. Bernard recognized the hulking silhouettes of two Barghests through the windows of the high rise, the clear, modern lines of rich architecture framing a picture of screaming office workers and all too human terror. B.F.F. took another long drag of his cigarette; it was going to be a long day before this mess got sorted out. He turned in his cockpit to see the glint of metal roaring down the crowded city streets. Looks like the cavalry had arrived!

As Bernard watched the detachment of Preying Panthers engage in battle, he took stock of the way they moved in coordination. A new FRAME he hadn't seen before was extending way past the main body of friendly forces, with Jupiter Grounded and Cecilia's Kirin not far behind. Fortunately, the kitten had made first contact with the enemy; were it anybody else, Bernard was sure that they would've been shredded. He could feel the vibration of her commands as she screamed that she'd made contact, but by then, the Snake Eater was already moving. With practiced timing, the veteran Handou swung the AFC-40/L over the shoulder where it had been mounted and into the window in front of it, spraying glass into the lobby of the building the first two enemy soldiers had decided to use for cover. Bernard took care to wedge the autocannon steady against the steel beams that had artfully supported the building's structural integrity, steadying its recoil without fully clamping down on its capacity to spray. Bernard watched kept a religious eye on the environment around him as well as his immediate radar, flicking switches with terse decision to apply active camouflage to his craft. He wanted to be prepared for attack and defense with something that was like the old sneaking suits that soldiers used to use, but in the time it took for him to manipulate his craft to pick a piece of rebar from the ground, the strange FRAME had more or less attempted to pounce on the enemy! No time left!

Snake Eater flicked the safety on its autocannon to full-auto and pulled the trigger before jamming the piece of rebar behind the trigger guard. It was a distraction that would keep that crazy pilot from being shredded immediately by one Barghest if their attempts to melee the other succeeded, even if it would only last the scant few seconds it would take to empty the clip. Thankfully it was enough to buy the rookie time to make it to the other side of the street, and just enough time for Bernard to position Snake Eater at the opposite corner to Cecelia, watching the intersection ahead. Suppressive fire coming from out of the fucking wall; Bernard felt some satisfaction in how cruel of a surprise a fight in the city could be. Even if it meant that the enemy soldier's first reaction would be to rain bullets into the office building, it was move that kept one of his "kids" safe for the moment. A moment was all he had after-all, as three more Barghests made their way in a wedge formation into the intersection from the left. They hadn't noticed Snake Eater yet because of his trick with his engine, but they seemed to be moving to flank the main body. It'd be only a few more seconds before one of them had a good chance of catching B.F.F. in line of sight, active camouflage or not. If Bernard was going to intercept any of them, he'd have to move soon.

SNAKE EATER 120.85: "Hahaha, how bad do things look out there, Jupiter Grounded? Keep talking to us, looks like we got three bogeys on our eleven. Do me a favor and tell the kitten I'm going to push up this lane as you push yours-- send me some cover?"

Cecilia watched her Osbanian companion's reckless maneuver with a twist of horror on her face. This is what she hated about the girl; an utter lack of self-preservation and borderline insanity. Though she was amazed at some of the things Sarah got away with in the past, it didn't stop her from almost wishing she'd stayed gone. Her blood pressure would've appreciated that.

"Godammit, Sarah!" Cecilia blurted, nearly popping a vein. Sarah made no effort to request cover fire before executing the improvised attack, and Cecilia found herself having to back her up with a torrent of suppressive fire. The second Barghest ducked back behind cover as rounds flew past and into the corner of the structure, coating it with debris.

As Sarah's prey went down, Cecilia skirted to the other side of the street, trying to advance upon the lone Barghest. A glance at her C3 suite revealed Bernard making clever use of his surroundings to back them up. Thanks, Old Faithful... More flashes of white whizzed past on Cecilia's monitor - three more Barghests on a vector to intercept the Panthers. She made sure her ECM masked her radar signature, and skirted to position herself behind the rise of an overpass, autocannon barrel resting over the top.

"I see 'em, Bern." Cecilia gave her control yoke a delicate touch, trying to line up a shot. The trio, however, had other plans, suddenly splitting up and heading down different roads.

"Shit, they're gonna try to envelop us." Who was behind her? The C3 told her it was Harold's FRAME. Cecilia would have to trust him on this.

"Harold, eyes on the intersection at my left. I've got a feeling they'll try to pry at our sides. The rest of you, stick to the buildings and advance on the Cradle building. We'll cover you. We need to lift this siege!"

-----

"Damn! Shāyú-Sì is down. I'm pinned on Highview and Mulberry. Need immediate assistance."

"We hear you, Shāyú-Wǔ. Moving on your four-o'clock. Try to sweep left and get around them. We'll harass their flank."

"Copy, I'm moving."

"We just have to hold them off until we secure the package. Our ground teams are already inside. Don't let these dregs intervene. Shāyú-Èr, Sān. Split and isolate."

"Copy, Shāyú-Yī."

"Beta Team, we're going after the Panthers from the west. I need you to circle around and hit them from the south; how-copy?"

"Solid copy, Shāyú-Yī. We're on it."

One of the new Barghests skirted around an office building, keeping a careful watch in-between structures. Like a tiger, it stalked through the concrete jungle in search of prey, autocannon held high. A faint beam of white registered on the pilot's monitor and he froze, back to the structure between himself and the contact. Another quick peek and he confirmed it - the Handou that had taken down his teammate in a clear LOS. He raised his weapon to the machine's shoulder, nudging the barrel around the corner and taking aim. A fraction of a second later, a lock, then a flash of white erupted from his muzzle.

"Good-bye, lǎowài."

-----

Inside Cradle's HQ, alarms blared as security personnel scrambled to defend the facility's most important sections. Richard and Amelia had been moved to what amounted to a panic room, crouched behind thick concrete and bulletproof glass. Armed guards stood ready at the entrance, brandishing small-arms. Scattered reports from their radios told Richard that this area of the building hadn't been touched. Instead, security had exchanged fire around Research and Development, which was exactly where his people had taken the cargo.

"Miss Blake, what were you about to tell me about the package we delivered? I think this warrants some explanation." Richard looked up from his padd, where he'd been tracking the Panthers' combat progress.

Amelia sighed, straightening a strand of red locks that had become disheveled. "...Fine. But this information does not leave this room."

"Scout's honor," Bentz quipped.

"The trucks were carrying components that the OSU had stolen from the Sodroyan League. Cradle was contracted by the government to work on a system that would allow pilots to interface with FRAMEs through neural implants. Completely hands-off control; fly-by-thought. We'd begun experimenting with neural technologies alongside manual control to help replicate fine motor skills in the machines, and allow for faster, smoother responses. But the League wanted to push the boundaries a step further. They wanted to hook up pilots to their machines, trick brain signals into moving the FRAMEs, instead of the human body. We figured this would streamline and revolutionize FRAME operation; make it so controlling them was as intuitive as moving one's own body."

"That's insane," Bentz gasped. "How long have you been working on this?"

"A long time, Mr. Bentz. Our work was interrupted when one of our employees turned out to be a mole and the OSU got wind of the research. They stole the HFI components from under our noses while we were transporting them; much like you did."

"HFI?"

"Human-FRAME Interface. We've kept this under wraps for years. We can't risk losing it again."

"Those FRAMEs out there aren't Osbanian makes. No markings, no insignia. Who do you think is trying to steal it?"

"I don't have an answer to that. I'd like to think everyone assigned to this project was a loyal Sodroyan. It seems that was not the case." Maybe that's what we get for our 'no discrimination policy,' she muttered under her breath. The radio crackled and a stressed voice groaned from the speaker.

"W-we can't hold them! They're tearing through the patrols we sent to defend R&D. These guys... they're the real deal. Special forces types, or something!"

"Dammit," Amelia snarled. "Section off the HFI bloc! We cannot risk the safety of the modules."

"Ma'am! We're redirecting all personnel to sec-Augh!" PAM PAM PAM

"Sonofabitch," Richard muttered. He brought his padd to his lips, frequency set to the Panthers' radios. "Cradle's security is getting hammered in here! These people are good, really good. I'm okay, but you have to break through and stop this heist!"

"Mr. Bentz, the Director is on the line. He says the Sodroyan military is on the way. He just needs you to hold out until reinforcements arrive."

"Thank fuck."

As Sarah entered, and started getting plastered, Marlene was just about ready to make a move and introduce herself just as the eccentric little lady went into something of a happy-rage and left, followed by the others just as her own PADD informed her of the why; Priority one order, defend Cradle Dynamics from attack.

A distant explosion punctuated the fact that this was sort of a 'now' thing.

It didn't take Marlene any longer than the others to get to YASSIR, but as it was still nested inside of its pallet for transportation, she had to take some time chopping-off the supports and pre-starting the core. Starting a FRAME without a pilot inside isn't exactly a good idea in a confined space, lest one of the arms suddenly lash-out, but time was important and they didn't have enough people to run things by the numbers.

Speaking of which, she was neither assigned their radio frequency, nor had she taken the time to actually look at the FRAMEs her allies piloted before they left. Well, besides Mr Bubbles, and that was entirely because of how much trouble Sarah was having getting hers started.

Once everything was warmed-up, she strapped-in and made her way to the outskirts before activating active-camo, looking for anything trying to outflank anyone since an unidentified mech in the middle of combat is usually a dead one. She was quickly rewarded by the sight of an unmarked FRAME about to make a pot-shot around a corner. Against whoever they were aiming at, they had very little exposed, but from her angle it'd be an easy shot, made even easier by the make and model of the FRAME, still, there was a chance this was a friendly...

She slammed a mortar-shell into the side of the building it was using for a brace, blowing-out fragments, concrete and re-bar into their line of sight and hoping to spoil their aim and reveal their position.

Edward had gone to a pub, name of which he didn't commit to memory. He was in good mood having downed few stronger servings and getting into the atmosphere. Suddenly fireworks could be heard, echoing in the distance and then the real killjoy, it was his padd with it's telltale tone that sure was no music to Edwards ears but what came after made him even less happy. Having been call'd to the action he did as told, except it wasn't easy getting back to the Samigina in a timely manner on foot. He started to steel his nerves as in the relative distance the tune of battle continued to play as he made his way reminding him that every second he took was time that might be needed to overcome the situation.

He finally made it to Revenant obviously after most everyone had already headed out. It took a while to start up the Frame but it seem'd to work as good as ever but with no time to waste he headed out immediately deploying the ECM as was appropriate. Not wasting time he activated his Not-So-Passive camouflage. "Sorry I'm late to the fray. What's the situation?" Said to the radio hoping to get something to use so he'd not have to go blindly guessing the enemy composition and positions assuming a more defensive position for the time being switching on his thermals seeing the familiar world of blue spread out in front of him. while he kept his sight at the ground level he made sure to not forget to look at the sky as he was the one on Anti-Air duty.

Ryder had the advantage of already being at the Samigina when Richard had radioed in. Her time spent with her new mechanic friend was cut short as her eyes bolted open and she stood up, heading towards Theta, who was still in the process of being upgraded, but she had no time.

"Time to go," she stated rather frantically to her new companion. Edward gave her a nod, going to help her into her cockpit. He then began tearing away all the equipment around Theta while Ryder hastily started her FRAME up. Defend Cradle HQ... That was her goal. Ryder made no attempt to wait for her team. She bolted off towards the HQ. This would be the perfect time to test her new equipment anyways.

Ryder's FRAME made a short whirring sound as she attempted to activate her Active Camouflage. She blinked a few times, not really knowing what to expect. At this point, she just had to assume she was invisible. Her arrival at Cradle's headquarters was very quick. With eyes flicking back and forth over her monitors, Ryder scanned the area for enemy FRAMEs. She had no luck. Well, at least until a mortar shell arrived just several meters to Theta's left. I guess the Active Camouflage is out for now. She thought, flipping a switch to deactivate Active Camo. The odds were definitely against her now.

Theta had luckily never stopped skating as Ryder stopped to search for hostiles. She shot forward towards the headquarters, hoping to get close enough to the building to stop the barrage of mortars. Another two or so explosions behind her as the mortars miscalculated her agile Zaruga's speed. Ryder nearly slammed into the building at her panicked speed. The blasts stopped as she neared the building, but she could hear FRAMEs moving above her in the headquarters. Ryder figured that these hostiles were sending someone to deal with her.

She figured she had to move quickly to get the upper Hand and she could hear Autocannon fire along the other sides of the building. Perhaps it wasn't such a swell idea to ignore Cecilia's idea to partner up, but she didn't want to wait. As if to add injury to insult, two unmarked FRAMEs rounded the corner of a nearby block. Ryder felt as if she was out of options. She made a small shrug from within her cockpit. She had an idea, might as well give it a shot.

Her Active Camo flipped back on just as the two unmarked FRAMEs rose their Autocannons. She knew her heat signature would be a problem so she started to skate forth, rushing the two of them with a bit of a zigzag in her path as if to throw of any idea of where her heat signature was. Autocannon fire ripped past her. She made it about half the way there before some of the numerous Autocannon shells made contact with her. She was expecting the flashing red lights, the sirens, but surprisingly, nothing happened. It seemed that the Reactive Armor had disrupted the bullets as they made contact. This was of course a good thing until Ryder realized the Reactive Armor's tiny explosions would no doubt be visible despite her Active Camo.

Ryder swallowed shakily. She was a mere amount of seconds until she was able to make melee contact and she had a mere amount of milliseconds before her Reactive Armor would flood with Autocannon fire and leave her armor vulnerable to the strong Autocannons that could easily reach her cockpit. Perhaps she'd take a bit of Cecilia's previous advice yet. Ryder flipped on her torso mounted MG27 Light Machinegun. That would at least hassle her enemies a bit. More of her Reactive Armor exploded offering her less and less protection. Theta's fist rose as one of the Autocannons stopped firing. That FRAME had little armor as well. He was going to back up, but one of her enemies had plans to continue his barrage.

Theta's forearm rose to smash into the side of the Autocannon of her opponent. She succeeded in her maneuver despite his Autocannon's continued fire slamming into and disabling Theta's left shoulder. With his Autocannon out of his hands, her first opponent was temporarily disabled, but it was time for her to back out. Ryder flicked back around, skates activating once more along with her Active Camo. It would at least make her a little harder to target.

Her Zaruga zoomed at its top speed down the block, skidding around a corner. She could hear her enemies' Autocannons ringing behind her. Ryder huffed in her FRAME. She was pinned now, and it didn't help that she could see the FRAMEs that fired mortars at her once again within the building.

Cecilia glanced down at the screen of her C3 suite. She could see that several Panthers had already made contact and engaged FRAMEs on other streets. She groaned when she saw Ryder a good distance from the main body, lone-wolfing and fistfighting - again. On top of that, the C3 indicated her FRAME had taken a number of hits, mostly negated thanks to the reactive armor. Still, it was preferable not to be a target at all, a habit that Cecilia swore she'd yank out of Ryder's head one day.

"Ryder! You're overextending yourself! Pull back, now!" Cecilia pushed forward, down Highview, to try and back her up. "Sarah, on me. We're going to take the heat off Ryder." She ducked behind a building adjacent to Sarah at the end of Highview, preparing to turn the corner and clear the next street.

-----

"Dammit!"

An explosion rocked the building Shāyú-Èr had used for cover, sending debris on-top of his FRAME. The monitor turned cloudy from the dust, and without a clear visual, he skirted backwards. That spot had been compromised, clearly. He ducked around another corner, finding cover and hoping his initial shot had made its mark on Sarah's FRAME.

"One of the rats nearly tagged me. I'm re-positioning."

"Copy, Èr. We've ran into another; bitch knocked my cannon right out of my hand. We're advancing on the loner."

Shāyú-Yī and Sān recomposed themselves, the former retrieving his autocannon from the street. They'd put some rounds into that Panther, they were sure, but it appeared its reactive armor gave it a get away free card. No matter. It was isolated from the rest of the Panthers now, and the two of them would swoop to deliver the final blow.

The two of them drifted to opposite ends of the street, rolling towards the structure Ryder had ducked behind. Yī went wide left, looking down an alley at her position. Sān approached from the front, back to the wall.

"On my mark. Yī... Èr... Sān... Mark!"

Shāyú-Sān swiveled his Barghest around the corner, autocannon braced against his shoulder. Yī did likewise at his end of the alley, and the two of them pulled their triggers. AP rounds spat from the barrels at Ryder, forming a deadly crossfire between the pair.

-----

The gunfire alerted Cecilia, who swore and zoomed forward to aid her teammate. She was caught short by a muzzle flash from the periphery of her vision, to her left. She leaped for cover across the street, nestling into a position behind a garage as she fired back for supressive effect.

Shāyú-Èr cursed. He narrowly missed the Kirin as it passed by, and the gunfire was sure to give away his position. He hoped the rest of Alpha Team was having better luck. In any case, Beta Team should almost be in position to flank the Panthers' south now. The sooner the men inside retrieved the HFI, the better.

-----

"Sorry I'm late to the fray. What's the situation?" asked Edward's voice.

"Multiple contacts north-west of Highview," Cecilia responded. "And possibly more from other directions. Keep an eye on your flank. We need to break through and advance towards Cradle; how-copy?"

Marline switched through radio-frequencies as she disengaged and doubled-back, the XM5 she engaged earlier having retreated to some better cover, probably wondering where her shot had come from and trying to take her out as a threat before resuming; it was best to keep them looking, so every so often a mortar-round would be lobbed near those coordinates to clutter the side-street and slow them down.

Then suddenly her radio finally managed to pick-up chatter that sounded useful:

"Multiple contacts north-west of Highview, and possibly more from other directions. Keep an eye on your flank. We need to break through and advance towards Cradle; how-copy?"

"On it, bumped one just north of Highview taking a few potshots in the open. You folks keep pushing forwards and consolidate a position at the headquarters. I'll assist where I can." She quickly keyed-in, failing to identify herself in the excitement as YASSIR rolled southeast along 31st street to check their south flank, a surprise pincer movement would be catastrophic, but every second of early-warning and interdiction would count towards saving lives.

She was hoping that through superior force of movement, they could blow-through the pincer-movement before it closed on them, leaving the XM8s bogged-down in their self-made urban-wasteland to be dealt with later by the proper authorities. Just for the sake of bullets are cheaper, she lobbed a couple of mortar-rounds into the nearest side-street east of Pembroke/Highview before rounding the corner with her autocannon raised.

"Do any of you have a fix on their artillery yet?" She asked, just as counter-battery fire began raining down on her old position north of Highview.

Fast was Kat's thing, she loved and yearned for it. However, not by foot. Right now though it was a matter of urgency. Hurtling over cars and pushing past people, towards not away, against the flow, she ran and ran as hard as she could. Combat thundered down the streets around her, it filled the air with screams of panic and fear, not the combat of men but the combat of gods! And it filled Kat's heart with sheer adrenalin bound excitement.

She arrived at her destination just as an explosion lit up the sky. "C'mon c'mon," she whispers to herself between laboured breaths, having burnt more oxygen then her lungs could pull in. Her muscles ached, her chest burned, but all of that concern over physicality faded away under the rumbling of awakening mechanical life.
"Purr kitty, purr!" She yells eagerly as she is washed over by a nostalgic glow of lights. Sheer serene focus overcome all else as effortlessly and without thought she ritually checked gauges and flicked switches.

Her exit wasn't completely clear when she threw the beast into full throttle, a minor paint job and armour touch up was worth it, if it made the difference between getting to the battle in time over missing it completely. Today time was not on her side.

She flipped through the units available scanners and view methods, having already some idea of her closest target, she wanted to be sure of who else was around.
She was having difficulty holding the results, it would have to be looked into later.
To the left of her console she ran a separate scan on some makeshift setup, scanning the public media. Different monitors fuzzed to life as she picked up related reports and stories. No good images, yet.

She sighs with a soft disappointed in her equipment. 'Oh well, time to follow that other Zaruga' she thought to herself veering off down a street to the left. Just moments ago she had spotted it out charging at two opponents while playing with cameo effects. 'Idiot' she thought as a smile spread across her lips.

Her 'Snow Leopard' held its AFC-40/L Autocannon in both hands, a quick diagnostics of the weapon system revealed everything was online and good to go. Nerves began to creep into Kat's excitement. She had fired this during training but never in a real life scenario.
As she buzzed down the streets, in the distance she made out the Zaruga from earlier, her heart sank and breath froze. It was trapped, pinned, flanked and she watched frozen in horror as the weaponry of its attackers flared to life.

Only one of the two targets would have been in her 800m range, even if only. The laser target designator suddenly signalled go-time, rudely awakening Kat from her idle state of frozen fear. "C'mon Kat they ain't gonna hire no fraid-y cat." She angrily cursed at herself.
Aggressively pulling the fire trigger she lets out a loud roar in the secluded confines of her cockpit as the auto cannon responds just as violently and began to blast away at her target.

Sarahs' brain seemed to shut down. It was rather strange sometimes. It was like being disconnected from reality. Almost floating within your body. It had been like that since that shot had barely missed her and it took her quite the time to mouth the words. "Thanks Miss Marlene", as it came over the radio. Static killing her ears. She continued to provide covering fire to aid whatever her CO planned to do. Her Mechanoid was not happy in the slightest with the severe jerryrigging she had done to get him battle capable. "Copy that! Mi.....", Sarahs radio turned to heavy static and Mr. B was beginning to glitch out hard, she had some pretty epic soundproofing, what she didn't realise however is that shrapnel from that explosion had pretty much destroyed her reciever, she could speak but not listen. Not like it's any different mind, it's just that now she has an excuse. "CO....I S...Y ...GGGAIN....RAD....WILLCO!", she pulled back slightly in the alley way, signalled for covering fire to move off to with her mechs hands for cover and then zoomed over to her commanding officer. Following her back around the corner. "Mi....cor........go..th...ma....CONTA...", She had been unsuccessful in holding the cover for Ceceila to move up. Well. A bit worse than that. Sarah had the unfortunate luck to have been behind Cecilia in such a way that as she dived for cover she took the brunt of the autocannon fire. A stray shot broke the mounting for her right wheel. Causing the mech to spin out as it couldn't decelerate in time. It was quite amusing for Sarah as she fell. Operating time remaining, four minutes He just had to remind her. Well. At least she had served as said distraction. She felt a little weird, that was something pretty new to her, she never got caught out like this. At least Miss. Lang finally had the ability to call her on her bullshit. Had her coms not been nearly fried she would have been able to communicate properly.

Another round hit into the joint of her leg, Falling to the floor as stuttered cursing could be heard in the radio. Sarah was a skilled pilot, but nothing could help her right now. In her head she was going over the probabilities which were negatively multiplying as Mr.B's left leg was hurting him. Well. More like nearly non functional. She forced the machine onto it's front and let loose the AT warhead she had been saving towards the machine still firing at Ryder. This is the reason why she didn't like reactive armour. It is real good at dispersing energy. For one shot, then becomes paper Mache. Using her prone position to fire her autocannon into the closest mech to her. The information Mr.B was currently feeding Ms. Cecilia;s tactical layout was currently giving her some pretty flashing lights next to his name. As Sarah was pretty screwed. She could either stop firing and crawl back to relative safety. Or keep firing and possibly blow up. She chose the former. She was pretty sure she had done some damage and began to crawl away from the scene as she was pretty exposed. Two rounds hit right next to her, disabling his main armament. Any hopes of her being able to repair the damage mid battle was shattered with that. His main gun gone she was pretty much a liability in this thing. She would have to go on foot. Maybe she could continue the battle in Cradles headquarters, make sure that Richard was alright. T'was kinda more important than this whole débâcle over what they stole. She managed to get around the corner before Mr.B shut down completely. She popped the hatch and spoke loud and clear on frequency over her plants. "Miss Cecilia. He's dead. I still have the majority of my mortars, I can fire on a designated target before moving off. I wish to make my way to the Cradle building, I have my PDW and some thermal grenades, either way I'm out this fight"

"Not good."
Ryder was pinned down by the two FRAMEs as they rounded the corner. She cursed to herself. No matter how good she was with her melee antics, there was no way she could run up and punch these guys, despite her powerful urge to do just that. She zigzagged a moment try to find cover in the nearly barren street, which allowed the two enemy FRAMEs to easily fire straight thtough her Zaruga's weak armor. She was continuously peppered with fire from both angles and she had to do something quickly. It seemed kind of ironic how she could charge one machine and fight it up close while the other would be cut off from firing at her, but it was definitely not the time for that.

Theta was damaged pretty heavily, and Ryder knew it. The panicked flashing screens of the inside of her FRAME really did not help. Trapped within the clutches of a miniscule amount of cover, Ryder felt as if it was a waiting game that her survival depended on. She knew Cecilia knew her location, but with all the AP rounds that tore through Theta, she didn't know how much longer she could last. As seconds passed, a panicked Ryder threw the switch that activated her LMG. She decided her best option was to at least try and suppress the enemy FRAMEs.

With her torso mounted gun's 7.62 mm bullets firing rather inaccurately in one direction, Ryder brought up her AFC-40/L in the other direction, firing in the general direction of Shāyú-Sān. Less than a minute had passed before Ryder heard the futile click click click of her LMG sputtering out of ammo. She merely sighed, mouthing the words "Really? Why now?" to herself as she spun around to face Shāyú-Èr and trying to land a few solid Autocannon 25 mm rounds into his FRAME while she had a few seconds break from Shāyú-Sān.

Theta wasn't going to last much longer in this fight. Ryder planned to give her teammates a minute more before she tried something drastic. After all, she was nearing the end of her ammo, Theta's systems were steaming as if in agony, and Ryder couldn't handle much more of this heavy fire rocking her FRAME.

"I see 'em Bern. Harold, eyes on the intersection at my left. I've got a feeling they'll try to pry at our sides. The rest of you, stick to the buildings and advance on the Cradle building. We'll cover you. We need to lift this siege!"

"Damn!"

Bernard had taken only a few minutes to wait for a response from the comms guy, but even time to catch your breath was long enough on the battlefield that it was like all the time in the world. Thankfully the other members of the Panther squad had made it into the streets, but things were looking bad, and everybody was running out of time. Ryder's Zaruga zoomed past Snake Eater's hiding spot at the corner into the street behind him, pulling heat back from up ahead towards the Cradle base and back towards the main body of Panthers. The countryman engaged not one, but two of the enemy FRAMEs-- The third one split from the main detachment to harass Cecilia and the others on the other side of the building. These two were smart, locking Ryder in a pincer between Pembroke and Mulberry, but they'd get punished hard for focusing too heavily on their target. One of them had swiveled around the corner to catch Ryder in a hail of gunfire, but didn't register the FRAME waiting at his flank. It's time for some TACTICAL ESPIONAGE ACTION. Like driving a well trained sled dog, Snake Eater's engine barked to full capacity. The Handou moved with a boost of speed uncharacteristic of its bulky FRAME, but it was close enough that the enemy soldier wouldn't have a chance to react. Click, click, click, click, up down up down left right left right aaand cut the engine. Bernard's hands moved with that same unexpected burst of speed. The rough old soldier's grip moved through the cockpit almost as a blur in the little glow from the cigarette. This was something that you didn't see in this day and age. An ancient gamer's trick: Dysynchronize.

"RYDER!" Bernard yelled, as he kicked open the Snake Eater's front hatch, "LOOKS LIKE.."

Man and machine are one as the heavy mech brings its GPR-21 autocannon to bear, its thrusters gunning hard even while its pilot draws his pistol and loads it. It lines up its barrel in the crook between a crude finger and thumb, guiding the flash hider in a rough estimation of CQC. A deafening crash, and the Snake Eater comes up from behind, uses its rifle to punch through the cockpit hatch of the Barghest!

"I'VE GOT YOUR BACK!"

The roar of metal on metal, the grind of steel is almost loud enough to cover the sound of Bernard's bullets, his cyborg body absorbing the shock of the crash as readily as it eats the recoil of his pistol. One, two, three, four-- clang, clang, clang, clang. The old soldier aims carefully and fires, ricocheting bullets off the top ceiling of the enemy cockpit, putting a third of a clip into Shāyú-Sān's head, chest, and stomach while the Handou peels the cockpit door away with the front sight of its rifle. Twelve shots, enough to kill anything that moves. At this, the Snake Eater follows the last of the commands that B.F.F. had been able to input before getting out of his comfy chair, lines up the rifle with its center of mass, ducking a giant robot's inch to angle the barrel of the autocannon right underneath the cockpit before starting the slow process of system shutdown. At the same time, Bernard himself calmly walks forward onto the moving cannon, deftly keeping his balance as he makes his way to the other mecha. He tossed a cigarette butt away and drew his kabar as he reminisced; FRAMEs used to be as expensive as an entire Arsenal, so it wasn't too uncommon to get out of your craft and end that shit right then and there if things got hairy enough. The Old Snake ducked down into the cockpit, cut the seatbelt, grunted as he realized that the dead pilot's grip kept the main guns firing. He pushed the helmet forward and dealt a quick slash to the base of the neck, severing the nerves like it was just yesterday that he'd done that. He almost grinned, feeling young again as he hoisted the corpse out of the Barghest, dragged it back to the Snake Eater, and tossed it into his own cockpit. Bernard then tromped forward, his heavy boots rattling the sleeping barrel of the giant rifle, and slipped into the Barghest's cockpit himself.

All told, he was pretty comfy here too, even if a bit of blood was getting on his coat. That's life, right? The whole exchange had taken no more than a couple of minutes, but the old man swallowed his bit of pride and got to work. A Barghest huh? Wonder what a Perizian machine was doing in Sodroyan groundspace. It didn't really matter all that much to Bernard though. He'd been around the Ur FRAMEs, back when they'd been called different things by different countries. Cores, Wanzers, Landmates, Gears. They were all fundamentally the same, and frankly, convergent evolution over the years was going to make what he was about to do even easier. First and foremost, Bernard manipulated his firing cone so that it wouldn't be doing too much damage to Ryder. It was important to keep up appearances just long enough to catch the other pilots by surprise-- without comms, everybody was just dots on a radar after all. He flicked on his Codec, a direct line to the kitten's communications suite. It was situations like this that justified lower tech stuff, and even in the middle of a firefight, Bernie wanted every reason he could get to not have to fuck around with that touchscreen crap.

"Cecilia, I'm in a Barghest. I was just looking at it and suddenly I got this irresistible urge to get inside." He communicated, reading the radar quickly. He wasn't sure how long the other hostiles would expect silence from one of their own, but he was determined for it to be long enough to relate troop movements to his CO. "Looks like there's two caught in a line at this street, with a third pinning you and the others, I saw a friendly just went dark. It looks like another of ours has caught the one across from me out in the open, but another two are sweeping back behind us. If you push past your guy, we'll cover your team, and the rest of us will mop up back here while you get Bentz."

As soon as he finished relating what he saw through the enemy's eyes, Bernard squinted and forced the Barghest to reload. The pause in fire would give Ryder an opening to move; he'd left the Snake Eater open to lend if she wanted to get back into the fight. Bernard pushed forward with his new craft, aiming carefully to pin Shāyú-Yī between his own bullets and that of the incoming Kat, in her Snow Leopard. This battle wouldn't be over all that soon, but hopefully this was enough to swing things in the home team's favor.