Two frontiersman were eating their lunch, they had been drilling all morning, and their 10 hour shift was finally at the halfway point. Usually the sandwich break was an enjoyable time, goverment worker were always treated to the best Therux imported food, and didn't have to survive on processed rations like the rest of the working class. But this lunch time was not enjoyable, there was tension, so much tension in the air. They were being inspected today by a government official and thier drilling quota had not been met, there were roughly 3000 Kilos of elementum short of what they should have been this month, and it didn't look like catching up would be possible at this rate.

Driller #1:
Look, its probably just going to be some skinny state official with a calculator again, just a little bit of nagging and then he will leave us be probably. Besides, the whole government knows that our elementum has been slowly depleting since the last 5 years of constant drilling, we cant be the only zone falling behind...

Before the first driller could finish or the second could respond, their mouths dropped as the official walked on to the dig site, an older man in an incredibly impressive uniform and a face like stone escorted by 4 very well armed guards walked swiftly towards the two drillers, he was holding a box. The drillers were speechless, this man before him was Secondary Commander Vosen, essentially the 2nd most powerful man in the frontier, it was like being visited by the vice president.

Commander Vosen:
I dont want either of you to say anything, you already know of your defecit, and you have been working here long enough to know how to fix it, more drilling, we need your quota reached.....I see I walked in on you eating, I understand that some drillers arent fed enough. So I brought some more sandwiches, probably enough for 3 or 4 more lunch breaks.

Both drillers stood there stunned, not only because of who was addressing them, but because of how calm he seemed to be, duty and order was such a huge part of frontier society, they couldn't believe it.

Driller 2 #:
Thank you so much Commander Vosen sir! We will double our efforts and make sure we have caught up with our quarter by the end of the month. We still have 11 days I believe!

Commander Vosen:
.....Yes 11 days, well I would want you to make use as much of that time as possible, which is why I brought you the extra lunch...neither one of you will be leaving this hanger until 6000 kilos of elementum are mined the extra 3000 being a higher target to make up for the cost of me having to come down here. Lets hope you two can make those sandwiches last, because that will be the only food youll be receiving until the job is done, lets get to it then.

The desperate screams of the two men was drowned out as the Hangar door for the Drilling zone shut behind them, Vosen decided not to log this visit, but did send a message to the only man who he called his superior, the Chief Commander of the Northern Frontier.

This depletion is becoming more of a problem than we thought, we might have to fall back on our first idea....

________________________________________________________________________________________________________



Men and women in fatigues were hammering away at keyboards and tuning radio signals to speak to various pilots and clients all over the continent, this was a normal day at the Comms for the largest guild in the world. Missions were being posted, and within seconds they were being taken by eager pilots looking for adventure, money and glory. Even as the 3 nations were in some turmoil or another, the economy of the quest giver stayed strong and trusted.

In one corner was a man not in camo, but in a Hyloian Officer's uniform, he was sitting quietly at a computer as he uploaded 3 new missions on to the guild board.

This is Keller, we have 3 jobs available for any pilots on my server, a lot of these are multi role, so don't be afraid to join up with a stranger, you'll get paid the same.

8 pilots got the first announcement, what they do with it, is up to them...

---

The air was quiet as Toulouse sat atop the Bannerlord, taking a moment to enjoy the sunrise as he ate his breakfast. Nutrient paste wasn't the most palatable meal on the planet but the coffee in his mug washed it down well enough and the horizon let his mind wander enough so it didn't matter anyway, the grasslands before him slowly bleeding into sand as the sun rose behind him. It was the quiet, picturesque moments like this that reaffirmed his decision to come to the Freelands. Toulouse was considering going below deck and grabbing a cigarette before a klaxon stole away his attention, updating him on the new bounties and missions that were posted.

Deciding against it for today, Toulouse scanned each of the missions as he finished his food. He immediately skipped the highest paying job over, his desire to stay away from home winning over the paycheck. He took a little longer on deciding between the Elementum retrieval and the Mech testing, weighing the odds before deciding to lay claim on the Elementum job. He's too used to this old beast anyway to give something like that a good run for it's money. Plus he was closer to the Desertlands anyway.

Slipping below decks, Toulouse laid his claim on the Elementum job with a premade script as he started to awaken the old beast. "This is T. I'll be near the Iron Canal within the day, heading in on the north side of the area. Any tag alongs are welcome." The script was sent and logged into the system as Toulouse and the Bannerlord stomped their way towards their objective, opening channels to whoever decided to join in.

She had a new job to do.

After all, that was the only reason why she'd be awake right now. A jolt ran down her spine, engines whirring beneath her skin and carbon "muscle" fibers tightening to bring her upright as her implants powered back online, fully charged and ready for operation. Aster rubbed her eyes as the daze of her sedatives started wearing off and a new awareness rushed into her, bringing to her notice the faint stinging in her left elbow as the injection needle that had administered her dose of stimulant retracted into the clinical bed she'd been lying upon.

The room was empty, as always. Featureless white walls on all sides, with a featureless white floor below and a featureless white ceiling above, the latter marked only by a few dim lights. She clambered down from the bed, still rubbing at her stinging arm as the pain brought her rapidly to her senses. There was a dull throb in the back of her head, but it wasn't as bad as it usually was. It would go away with time.

The comm terminal on the wall was buzzing, a red light flashing to show she had an incoming signal. She pressed "accept," and a video feed was established, solidifying into the image of a bespectacled, middle-aged man in a suit, his graying blonde hair cut short and kept slicked back from his high, furrowed brow.

"Doctor Rosenberg," She greeted respectfully, lowing her head in deference. "What can I do for you today, sir?"

"Subject Alecto," He began sternly, speaking with the air of a man reading from a script, or reciting some formal decree. "The project's advisory board has deemed you ready to begin field testing operations under real combat conditions. We've secured you a mission contract with the local Outcast's Guild branch. Be ready for deployment and in the hangar within fifteen minutes. You'll receive briefing en route to the site. That is all."

"Y-yessir!" She responded hastily, giving a quick salute before the video feed cut out. What was all this? A real mission, and so suddenly? She was going to be... She was going to be fighting a real battle? An old fear began to steadily arise in her heart, but along with it, an old desire took root as well...

There was no time to lose.

---

In the lands of lawlessness, only the strong, the smart, and the ruthless survive. Wars have been waged, the very lands have been shattered, but evil can survive it all. The blood thirsty mercs of this world only pale in comparison to the phantom that stood outside of a quiet town. A looming ghost of death, the figure shrouded in fog was slowly revealed as the sun's rays pierced through the low clouds. It almost appeared hunchbacked, a blade stained dark red along the edges glistened for a moment, as the giant stood motionless. From the distance, a demon approached. The ghost's puppet master. What horrific plans does this devil have for this sma-

"I swear, it's like I'm trying to free myself from quicksand every time I visit this shit hole. God damn Mom never changing, constantly whining about how the neighbors keep using up the towns water for their fuckin pool. Then the moment I try to leave, Dad comes home, gets all meet and greety with me, next thing you know it, I get dragged into eating dinner and spending the night. God I hope they don't see me, or they'll force me to take home some farm cooked bread or whatever the hell." Alexi huffed as she approached her mech, The Butcher.

"'It's gluten free, all natural. Come on Alexi, you need to eat more healthy. This root will cure those headaches! This oil will sooth those scars. Come on dear' blah blah blah." Finishing her rant in a mocking voice, Alexi climbed into her mech, powering it on and began to move away from the small Frontier town. "If it actually worked Mom, they'd call it fucking medicine, not 'alternative' medicine or some bullshit. Natural my ass. You guys cleared 2 acres of forest to plant that shit, what was natural about that? Ugh. I swear there better be some job I can take to cleanse my fucking pallet after what I just had to fucking sit through."

The Butcher began to make its way through the countryside, as its pilot lazily scrolled through the Guild's message board for jobs. She had joined the "Outcast Guild" as sort of a vacation from her normally more.... "intense" jobs per her doctor's recommendation. Apparently shooting yourself in the head tends to put a bit of a damper on your performance, so to someone like Alexi, this was more busy work than anything else. Speaking of, her eyes lit up as the page rested on one particular job.

It was Scavenge job, something normally Alexi wouldn't bother with, but with that price tag and description, it certainly caught her attention. Normally Scavenge jobs was more of a hauling type deal, but the zone in which the customer wanted the part wasn't exactly quiet, so she was sure to ram at least one Raider through with her sword. "Seal clubbing it is..." she mumbled as she selected the mission.

The boosters on her mech blasted to life, rocketing her Hunchback into the distance, and setting her on a course to the notorious ruins of The Ratlin & Cores Small Arms Factory.

Enyo threw his arms up as if he were ready to fight. He quickly jumped up, hitting his head hard on the Cockpit's roof. With a loud thud, he slid back into his command throne. His eyes turning from startled to pissed off. He had forgotten where he had fell asleep, again... It was always in his Mech and still from time to time the slightest disturbance of his sleep will send him flying to his feet ready for a fight that was never there. A paranoid personality trait he usually didn't mind when it didn't involve him slamming his skull against a bulkhead. After clenching the back of his head for a few seconds, he drowsily searching for the noise, he found out the culprit was his Mech's HUD. In the top right corner a star blinked yellow and spun every few seconds to attract his attention. He clicked at the holographic display, revealing he had been offered a few missions.

Food ration scraps and packages laid all around his Cockpit, it was a mess. He hadn't done a mission in a few weeks and been living inside his Mech the entire time like so many other times before he left the North. He told others he was going on a 'Nature Walk' and would be gone for a bit. While he enjoyed his vacation, his credits were running low and he had enough of being bored for days on end. Enyo cracked his knuckles and held the Green box that was displayed in front of him, accepted a Mission numbered, 03023. He then sent out a message to the Mission Giver, Draysen Bills.

"Aye, Boss. This is Eny... Ghost, from the Outcast Guild. Consider the mission done. Have the payment ready, you should get the parts in a few days. Ghost, Out."

Enyo then opened his Private Communications. Ringing up an old friend in the Freelands. After a few seconds of waiting, he spoke up from the comms link. "Enyo, finally! I thought you had been eaten by a Warthog or something. Calling for logistics or just a Wondering how my day went? Heh, I'm just pulling your leg. Where you gotta go this time?"

"It's Ghost now, Gabe... I gotta get to the Ratlin & Cores Small Arms Factory in the Therux State. How fast can you get that setup?"
"For you!? Never... Hahaha, I'm just joshing! Remember the Town Freedom? The one with the cute Redhead at the Bar? That one? Whatever, that's not important. If you can get there tonight I can have you there by tomorrow morning. Don't be Late! You know where to send the Credits."

The comm link ended and Enyo shook his head, then resting it in his hand. Not at Gabe, but at that Redhead... What an embarrassing memory. After a few seconds of reconciliation, Enyo left the safety of his Mech's shell, using the Exit Port in the head of the Mech. After pulling himself up he looked around the Forest that he hid his Wraith. The Mech was completely invisible to the naked eye due to the dense Forest surrounding it. The OctoCamo proving to still work effectively. After some renovation of the interior and a much needed breath of fresh air, Enyo plotted his course to Freedom and began to travel through dirt road.

It was early morning in the dune lands, Sara was still sleeping in the truck, Robin was awake doing her morning exercises; a hundred sit-ups, fifty pull-ups, fifty push-ups, and jogging a few laps around the truck in a 15 meter radius; Robin was quite serious about keeping in shape, call it a Northerner thing, some habits don't die, she was half-way done with her push-ups but the call on the radio coming from an open transmission interrupted her routine.

"This is T. I'll be near the Iron Canal within the day, heading in on the north side of the area. Any tag alongs are welcome."

"An open job?"

She checked the data-pad provided to her by the outcast guild, she checked the available missions, she quickly got up and walked over to the truck where the Rabbit slept.

"Hey Sara, wake up, I got us a job. That T. guy just opened transmissions and offered a tag along, you wanna contact him or do we need the money, it's up to you; I just wanna get up and do something, we've been here for a few days without anything to do but work on The White Hare and Thrasher." There was excitement in her voice, as if something big was happening, but hearing about a job that had possible combat in it has that effect when you haven't done anything in a while.

She walked over to thrasher and did a quick check, targeting, telemetry, and control diagnostics, she then monitored energy output, all nominal, she looked back at the Rabbit just waking up.

"Hey Rabbit! What's the verdict, are we doing this for ourselves or are we gonna tell the guy we're comming?"
She sounded impatient, but Sara knew that's just Robin being Robin, always rearing for some action, they didn't call her 'Fang' for nothing

Robin awaited the reply, but Thrasher was all ready to go, the quicker the better, after-all the jobs kept the food on the table.

---

A quarter mile from 'Land's End', a small, but fairly prosperous town in the Dunelands, sat a Therux Rellis-class supply truck. Its clean grey and black steel chassis rusted in places and covered in a fine layer of tan grit- sand that never seemed to leave the cracks and crevices no matter how hard one scrubbed. A wide, olive-drab tarp stretched over the main body of truck and attached to its back were a pair of mech trailers, also covered with tarps. From a distance, one would wonder if the truck had moved at all in the past year- and from the way the tarps were set up- propped up by tent poles and pegged in by large steel spikes, this truck looked like it had more or less been locked down.

Despite its almost abandoned appearance, abandoned the truck definitely was not. The main cabin of the truck had most of its innards ripped out and replaced- a gun turret had been ripped out, sold, and replaced with a skylight, half the crew bunks torn out and replaced with a bench and table, and most of the main storage space had been replaced with furniture for a pair of pilots living in the freelands.

Lounging on one of the bunks, Sara was vaguely aware of her data-pad buzzing. A set of potential jobs had come in. She didn't bother looking through them- that was Robin's job. Knowing Robin, she'd be aware of a job as soon as it came in, and if the job was worth doing, chances were-

"Hey Sara, wake up, I got us a job. " Robin sounded as eager as ever. If Sara felt like getting into a fight, she'd call her an eager puppy. Just as well, she'd have a hard time finding a job in time without her, so he couldn't really fault her. "That T. guy just opened transmissions and offered a tag along, you wanna contact him or do we need the money, it's up to you; I just wanna get up and do something, we've been here for a few days without anything to do but work on The White Hare and Thrasher."

Sara rolled over and stretched lazily, her spine making satisfying popping sounds as she stretched out. She swung herself out of bed and started pulling her flightsuit on before the yelling continued.

"Hey Rabbit! What's the verdict, are we doing this for ourselves or are we gonna tell the guy we're comming?"

"I'd rather not get shot out of the sky if its all the same to you." Sara replied, raising her voice enough to be heard through the door. Oughta let him know we're letting him come along for the ride."

Nicholas Kozar

---

The sound of an alarm beeping close by awoke the old man with a start. Damn thing barely worked half the time, and when it did, thing was terrifying. Slamming his fist on the snooze button, Nicholas slowly rose from the bed, squinting at the red, neon numbers. 5:00 AM. Yawning loudly, Nick made his way to the bathroom attached to his bedroom, grabbing his uniform from the closet and hanging it onto the bathroom door. The man in the mirror had a shadow across his face and bags under his eyes, and Nicholas sneered slightly at his visage. He always abhorred men who didn't shave or kept their hair long. It was probably just leftover from his days in the military, but he couldn't stand it if he even had the slightest hint of a stubble on his face. After coating his neck in shaving cream, he went to work, gently maneuvering the razor around his neck. He flinched slightly when he accidentally cut himself, remembering the time an enemy soldier nearly slit his throat when he was caught out of his Unit. That was the closest he had ever been to dying, and he was in the infirmary for weeks after... The electronic beeping of his clock resounded through his small home, and Nick grumbled slightly as he made his way besides the bed, and gently flicked the alarm off. He always forgot to do that after hitting the snooze button... After shaving the other half of his face, he gently washed the remaining cream off, inspected his face to check for strands of hair that avoided the metallic blades and, satisfied with his work, entered the shower. He enjoyed cold showers best. While some people didn't like to be reminded that they grew up in the frontier, Nick sure as hell wasn't one of those traitors. About 15 minutes later, he exited the shower and quickly wen about drying himself off, and donning his old military suit.

Normally, he would have dressed in his sheriff attire, a simple white shirt, dress pants and vest, but today was far different. Exiting his small home, he gazed around the green town, comparing how it was to when he arrived just a year prior. The place had small canals and was simply beautiful, with decent-sized buildings and many people simply walking along the streets. When he first came to the town, people were cowering in fear of constant raids, and the place surely would have fallen apart had he not come by. He set himself up as sheriff, one of the only people guarding the small town from near total destruction. He was now an extremely well-respected member of the community, and a small number of standard mark 2 units were wondering around the town, serving as the new law enforcement. That's right... Nicholas had grown tired of the simple life. He was a soldier, not some guard. He needed the thrill of combat, he had finally accepted that. That was why he had decided to serve under "The Outcast Guild" as a freelance mercenary. With his bags all packed, he slowly made his way around the town, observing his home for one of the last few times. He planned to return, but he wanted to do so as little as possible. These people didn't need him anymore - they could defend themselves now. Raids rarely occurred anymore, and if they did, Nicholas had personally trained the new guardians of the town how to drive their units. He trusted in their abilities. A man with tan skin seemed to notice Nick, raising his arm and waving as he passed by.

"Hello Mr.Kozar. I was just coming to visit you! I know tons of people already told you this, but it's really sad to see you go. I would have invited you to dinner before you had to go, but I was really busy at the shop. I hope you come back sometime soon, man. You'll always be welcome here! Just be sure to tell me before you come by, I'll treat you to a meal or two."

Nicholas nodded at the man, smiling thankfully. He used to be a Hylo man, and while Nick generally didn't like his kind, he was definitely one of the good ones. He was a hard worker, and had been one of the founding members of the town. Nick even considered him a valued friend. Hugging the man briefly, Nick continued on his way to his Artillery unit, and proceeded to crawl in through the opening hatch. Sighing as he made his way into the large space, he started up the mech, and began his slow crawl to the outskirts of town. Many people waved as he passed by, recognizing his unit, and he truly felt honored. It was a hell of a sendoff. At least, it was much better than the one he had gotten in the Frontier. After nearly 30 minutes of traveling and countless waves and shouts from crowds of people he knew, Nick had finally made it to the outskirts of town, and accessed the small terminal on the front of his control panel, checking the mission boards. He had spent a long period of time trying to find the board several days prior, but he was very familiar with how to access it by now. 3 missions total were present; A high risk scavenging mission, a recovery mission, and a testing mission. The testing mission was immediately ignored - he decided to do these bounties because they were going to give him the thrill of combat. That left the scavenging mission and the recovery, which was quite a hard toss up. Eventually, Nick decided on the Recovery mission. The given coordinates were relatively close compared to the Therux State, and a Frontier mech in the State would most likely not be well received, even if it was peaceful. That left mission 03117, and just before he responded, a line of text appeared on his monitor.

"This is T. I'll be near the Iron Canal within the day, heading in on the north side of the area. Any tag alongs are welcome."

After reading the message several times, Nick decided to respond to the message and the mission.

"This is N responding. Will be at the Canal by noon, coming in from the North West. Will meet up with you there, T."

After he finished typing the sentence, he pressed the enter button, before entering the coordinates into his unit's autopilot. Leaning back in his chair, Nicholas was thankful that the destination was so close. He wouldn't need to waste thruster charges, and could allow the slow walking speed to take him to his destination. Reaching into his bag, he pulled out two egg sandwiches, a delicacy he had developed a strong affinity for during his time he spent stationed in various locations during the war. Beat the regular rations by a long shot, and while the green town had access to a lot more food than the Frontier, the nostalgic smell still caused his mouth to water in anticipation. Drinking water from one of the bottles he had brought with him, he pondered who this "T" person was. Were they a soldier like him, and if so, what side? Then again, it didn't really matter. As long as he didn't hold back Nick, and he didn't die, it really didn't matter.

Keller was surprised, the jobs were being taken in seconds from being announced a bunch of names popped up for the Iron Canal mission. Voltaire, Kozar, Hawkins, Wester and Testarossa Keller , now in his office let the client know the job had been taken, but did a double take at some of the surnames.

....Out here in the free-lands? That cant be possible...

Keller was whispering to himself until he realized the channel opened for another mission that had two pilots accepting. Alexi Krackov and Enyo Garret Keller did the same for these two pilots, letting them and the client know they had been accepted. But not before rubbing his chin in thought, where had he seen the names before? They both looked familiar but from different places. He laid back in his chair and picked up his phone, he had to make a few calls.




The desertlands were almost always barren and empty, only 2% of the desertland landmass was inhabited by people, and there was almost no trade in this part of the freelands. Even the smallest sounds could be heard in the mostly silent desert, and the rusty coughing engine of a Mk1 Transport train could be heard even from the furthest distance. Flying machines appeared like flies in the distance near the train seemed to be flying around the train as it chugged on at a medium low speed to wherever it was going. They seemed to be escorting the train.

In total there were 13 visible machines

10 of which all had the same design: Most likely Drones

The Other 3 were colour variants of this design in pink, green and grey.

There was definitely chatter on the radio between the 3 larger mecha, but the audio couldn't be made out from a far distance. Now the 5 pilots who took the job were now slowly creeping up on the train, they werent in formation and were coming from their own respective directions, but they should have the element of surprise.






The factory looked very depressing, abandoned in the middle of construction faint image of the idea of a grand expansion for the major manufacturer, Ratlin & Cores. The company was responsible for arming most of the Therux Army during the western wars, but now has been reduced to a graveyard for unused mechs, and occasional scavenging spot for opportunists. 2 Mechs began flying towards the factory site, nothing was appearing on radar just yet.

Ghost, his Mech's original nickname. Now Enyo's call sign. No one was sure why he gave his Name up. It's not like anyone was looking for him right?

His Mech shook as it's external flight jets began to bring him down, a spot already preset from a few hours of planning. The shaking woke Enyo up from his daily nap. Some worry before going out on missions, planning all they way until they touch down. Others fidget nervously the whole time, just quietly thinking of the terrible outcomes and the rewards each mission could provide. Then their were some like Enyo. Spooked when he shouldn't be, fast asleep when he should. Their was a interesting question flowing through his head. Who was the other Pilot? What kinda of Mech did they operate? More importantly, how much of the cash would they want?

When the Ghost hit the floor, the external Jet's fell were ditached and hit the ground under him. Neatly folding up in a cube to be collected for later. The Wraith's Octocamo began to take effect. The normally Tan Mech became a urban Gray. Due to such a environment with so much different coloring patterns, the Camo was not as effective as it would be in a more Forest or Snow environment, but it still gave him some concealment from far out. Ghost racked his rifle back, loading it with a Single round in the chamber. With a flick of a switch its Jamming came online to further conceal it's position. Being in the outskirt of the Factory, Enyo held his ground, waiting for the 'allied' Mech to come into view and any possible enemies to appear. For now he was hidden Giant in the wreckage. As if he wasn't even there.
"Lets give us a little looksy"

Aster flinched, biting her lip to suppress the weak part of herself that still wanted to whimper at the sensation as the cockpit joints clamped down hard on her shoulders, waist, and legs. With a faint click, the magnetized seals that connected the force-dampening harness to her flightsuit engaged, and thin needles worked their way into each of her arms. A moment later, however, the pain vanished, replaced by a dull sensation of weight and energy working its way up her limbs and through her bloodstream as her first dose of piloting stims kicked in. She blinked, and her vision seemed to clear ahead of her - just in time, as the Alecto's viewscreen powered up, the distinctive series of glimmering green visors on its dish-like head sparking to life and revealing the sight of the ground far below her. Although she couldn't see it yet, a faint cloud of dust on the horizon told her the location of her objective.

The train. The mission was, in theory, simple - much like many of the mock operations she'd done in training. She was to eliminate multiple enemy escort units and acquire the cargo they protected unharmed. This time, she'd even have mercenary pilots providing her backup - a luxury she hadn't had while in training. And yet, why was it that she still felt so nervous? Even with the dose of drugs to hone her focus, her hands were still shaking even as the movement-sensitive control terminals folded up and closed tightly around them. The camera jittered for a moment, and she had to take a deep breath to stop herself from twitching too much.

Real combat. Real weapons. Real enemy pilots. It was like the doctor had always told her it would be: kill, or be killed. This was finally it. There was no going back now.

"Alecto, preparing to drop onto target site. Right... I'll open communications over the encrypted mercenary frequency now." Unable to remove her hands from the machine's controls, she instead blinked twice, an input which the cockpit camera registered as the hotkey in order to activate the suit's voice-commands. "Computer, begin transmission on T.'s frequency." The green dot in the corner of the HUD blinked once, and a mechanical voice responded in the affirmative, confirming that it was ready to send her signal.

"This is Pilot Designate F-003 'Alecto' hailing 'T.' We are now confirming arrival over the Iron Canal. I'll standby just outside of sensor range, but I'm prepared for rapid aerial deployment against the target when all other units are in position. Please confirm your status. Alecto out."

@Pathfinder@Liotrent@vietmyke@Duoya

---

While the mech trailers did an excellent job of protecting the mechs from the elements when they weren't in use, it was no small pain for two individuals to set them up. Most mechs typically employed an engineering team- and out in the freelands, military-trained engineer teams were few and far between, and exorbitantly expensive as well. The result was most Fortune Land pilots learned how to maintain their own machines. Still, working on a highly advanced machine was a lot of work by yourself, and some lazier or less wealthy pilots often just let their mechs rust out in the elements inbetween downtime, and worried more about weapons and ammo than the all important hydraulics, shock absorbers, and thrust systems that would get worn down and clogged up by excess sand, dirt and grime.

Pulling off the tarps over the mech trailers was a bit of a hassle, but half an hour later, the hard tops of the trailers were opening, revealing two relatively well maintained mechs in their holds. One was a steel grey beast- in the shape of a wolf, the aptly named Jager Hound was a fairly widespread machine- popular in both the Northern Frontier, as well as the Fortune Lands. The Jager Hounds, while not quite as ubiquitous as some of the more common bipedals, were still easily recognized and hard to mistake for anything else. To call Robin's Jager Hound similar to every other Jager Hound would be a grave mistake however, this beast of a machine- called the Thrasher by Robin, and noted as the 'Wester Custom' by Sara, was a mean machine: fast, and sporting a pair of 50mm plasma cannons- this machine could reduce an unprepared mech to a pile of slag with little difficulty.

The other trailer held Sara's personal Chevalier III, the White Hare. A thin and aerodynamic looking machine, this mech was reminiscent of fighter jets, but lacked the inherent fragility and versatility a high-speed jet possessed. Thin and angular, Sara's Chevalier was a machine designed to dominate the skies with its variable equipment loadouts. Much like Robin's Jager, Sara took great pride in her own customized machine, the 'White Hare'. A customized Supercruise/Afterburner meant she was easily one of the fastest things in the sky, and could get out of dangerous situations in a pinch, and a trademark 'Northern Ice White' paint set her in stark contract with many of the drab and dark machines in the Fortune Lands.

"I think there was another job in Therux, scavenging through one of the old The Ratlin & Cores factories." Sara remarked absentmindedly as she pulled on her flight harness- a bulky (and pink) armored pressure suit that would help protect her from the low air pressure and high-G forces she would experience during flight. The harness fit over her like football pads would, and as a result made her thin frame looking even smaller by comparison. The back had a parachute and directional jetpack thruster if she had to eject, and the inner lining functioned similar to an airbag when necessary.

"I don't think I've been back since I left for the Dunelands. My sis just got engaged, did I tell you that?" she continued as she climbed over her mech, currently on its back, and made her way to the cockpit. Opening the cockpit with the touch of a button, Sara turned around and let herself fall into the arms of her cockpit chair before sealing herself inside it. Despite the darkness of her cockpit, Sara instinctively reached out and powered her machine on.

The White Rabbit roared to life, its control console immediately lighting up with a variety of colors, while the front and side walls of her cockpit became viewscreens themselves. Pulling her helmet over her head and securing it to her harness, Sara grabbed at a tube under her controls, and plugged it into the front of her helmet's mask, breathing in deeply as the mech began feeding oxygen into her harness. As she plugged herself in, data began popping up over her helmet as well.

> Confirming Pilot Biometry: Sara Hawkins_
> ...Pilot Confirmed. Welcome RABBIT_
> Initializing systems...

> Reactor Unit: Online_
> Targeting AI: Online_
> Weapon Systems: Calibrating...

> XBR: OK!
> T-2 S: OK!
> T-2 P: OK!
> XM921: OK!
> HSMS: OK!

> All Calibrations Complete_
> All Systems Nominal_
> Entering Standby_

---

"This is a terrible idea." Sara commented over the comms as her Chevalier slowly stomped its way into the flat clearing nearby their supply truck. Peeking at her rear-view camera, she looked at a quartet of high tensile cables lying limp on the ground connected to the Thrasher. The White Hare widened its stance on the ground, its thrusters angling themselves as they began spooling up. The incessant whine of the supersonic thrusters grew to a louder and higher pitch, until they reached a pitch almost out of the human audio range. With a small boom, the White Hare lifted off the ground, the cables behind it becoming taught as they pulled against the groundborne Jager Hound. The Thrasher's 'paws' skidded against the dirt for a second as they dragged along the ground until the White Hare managed to lift the machine off the ground. Re-angling her thrusters, Sara put in the coordinates of the mission and began flying towards the target location, Jager Hound in tow.

She triggered communications with 'T' and the other pilots who had signed on with the mission- Apparently there were two others joining them as well, 5 pilots was quite the party for what Sara saw as a rather small mission. As she tuned into their frequency, she heard another feminine voice calling out.

"This is Pilot Designate F-003 'Alecto' hailing 'T.' We are now confirming arrival over the Iron Canal. I'll standby just outside of sensor range, but I'm prepared for rapid aerial deployment against the target when all other units are in position. Please confirm your status. Alecto out."

"Talk about a party." Sara commented over the comms. "This is Rabbit and Fang. Sending IFF Codes to all pilots on this frequency. Try not to shoot at us yeah? Paint's expensive out here in the desertlands.

Robin hooked up the high tensile cables and whispered to herself, "This is a horrid idea". There was a reason why Robin never joined the Airborne mechs that were available for the frontier, she was absolutely against flying, not that she had a fear of it, but statistically speaking, she was much better off in a ground based mech than the flying in a light weight deathtrap waiting to happen. But she’s somewhat adapted to the lifestyle, she knew she needed some way to get around faster than circumventing all the hills, mountains, rocky terrain, and hazardous environments enroute to various missions.

After a few minutes she finished fastening them to Thrasher, the shock absorbers and some of the armor helped with rough landings, she was yet to get a proper parachute module for Thrasher, let alone design one to detach after being used, but she was quite happy with any landing as long as the mech would respond afterwards. She pulled up her overall jumpsuit and zipped it close it was tight, and comforting, almost like a second skin, that was when she heard Sara raising her voice to be heard.

”I think there was another job in Therux, scavenging through one of the old Ratlin & Cores factories” Robin didn’t say anything, she wasn’t much interested in scavenging, at least not for others, she would’ve gladly done it for Thrasher or the White Hare though, but it wasn’t the time to do so, Sara then added, ”I don’t think I’ve been back since I left for the Dunelands. My sis just got engaged, did I tell you that?”

Robin was quick to answer, ”Engaged huh? So I guess your sis is settling down, ha! Unlike -SOME- people, it’s amazing how much you two contrast eachother.” Robin teased as she giggled, she then proceeded to put on the rest of her gear, some of which were provided by Sara, to help with the flight, in case things get hectic during the flight, such as a personal parachute, some G-Force Compensators, and an oxygen tank and mask, the rest were just survival equipment such as extra pouches and a pistol, which Robin was used to seeing, though with budgets being tight, she doesn’t get to do Target practice as often as she would like, not to mention the lack of viable targets in the desert came as another detriment to that activity.

She was fully geared up, climbed into the cockpit, and reached for the consoles, she ran through the things she did a few moments ago after she woke up Sara. She put on her helmet, and checked up her mech.

Password

*************

-Processing…

---PASSWORD ACCEPTED---

-Pilot Designation: ”Fang”

---STANDBY FOR WEAPONS CALIBRATION---

-Please wear your helmet to begin weapons and targeting calibration.

Robin wore her helmet, as she did another message came in through the comms, it was the Rabbit, ”This is a terrible idea.” she laughed and responded while checking weapons, ”Says the one who thought it up” Robin usually never smiled during the campaigns in the Frontier unless if it was with her battalion, or perhaps with her strike group back in the Hylo front, they were as close as family, perhaps that’s why the Jager Hound prototypes performed so well back then.

She proceeded with the first of her checks, looking in every direction, and each time the guns followed, first she looked up, the guns elevated, she looked down, the guns depressed, she looked left to right and right to left, the guns followed the movement of her head keeping pace with her movements, she could even take control of them manually, but it was much more difficult as the cameras mounted to the weapons systems were not of high fidelity, making it difficult to use, along with the fact that to aim you needed to be completely stationary, which for Robin was not ideal.

---CALIBRATION COMPLETE---

-Weapon Systems: Nominal
-Targeting Telemetry: Nominal
-Counter Measures: Online
-Thrusters: Online
-Power Output: 100%
-Temperature: Low
-IFF Transmitter: Online

---ALL SYSTEMS NOMINAL---

MSG: GOOD HUNTING

Once she finished up the system check-up, she was about to give Sara the thumbs up but it seemed unnecessary as she already started pulling at the wires, the engines started roaring and with one sharp thrust of power they were both off the ground, Robin then listened in on the message coming through the Comms.

"This is Pilot Designate F-003 'Alecto' hailing 'T.' We are now confirming arrival over the Iron Canal. I'll standby just outside of sensor range, but I'm prepared for rapid aerial deployment against the target when all other units are in position. Please confirm your status. Alecto out."

"Talk about a party." Sara commented over the comms. "This is Rabbit and Fang. Sending IFF Codes to all pilots on this frequency. Try not to shoot at us yeah? Paint's expensive out here in the desertlands. Robin knew that there was going to be company, but checking the pilot listing for this mission, she was shocked to see three other pilots already taking it up, which meant divvying the cash four ways, it seems the bounty prize pool was getting smaller, but it didn’t bother Robin much, she got the action she wanted and she knew how to ration the cash, so it was no big deal.

”This is Fang checking in, letting you all know, just in case IFF gets knocked out, that we’re the ones in the heavily modified Jager Hound and Chevalier units, wouldn’t want to get shot at due to equipment failure.” Robin’s message was brief and to the point, quite easily understandable, it came with the experience of being a Commander, flying was really not her thing and the flight might take a while, she couldn’t wait for the Rabbit to drop her off somewhere even if it was right on top of the enemies' heads.

---

A large cloud of dust and debris billowed around The Butcher as it landed with a thud. Immediately scanners were activated..... then jammed. "Mother fuck... What the hell? I've only been here for two seconds and this place is already starting to annoy me..." Alexi had noticed on the way to the abandoned factory that someone else had taken the scavenger job as well, meaning she will most likely have to split the profit or share some portion. That had already pissed her off enough. Now she was being jammed on radar? With a frustrated sigh she glanced around in her mech.

Piles of rubble, hollowed structures, abandoned equipment and mechs, she looked for where someone would like to hide a jammer or a mech themselves. That's when she noticed the two neatly folded jump jet modules on the ground. "That bitch...." she mumbled just before her own boosters flared to light, rocketing her mech into the air and slamming down near the pods, destroying them. "ALRIGHT! LISTEN UP! Whoever's jamming this area will get my sword shoved so far down their fucking throat I could fucking spit roast you on an open flame!." She yelled via amplified megaphone through her mech, brandishing her sword to emphasize the point. She then stabbed a nearby half completed Mark 1 mech through, tossing it across the clearing like a rag doll.

@Thecrash20

@Skepic

Goddammit, how am I supposed to get back home now?

Just next to the recently Rag dolled M1 Mech, Enyo's Wraith stood still. He was surprised she couldn't even see him, from this distance. He wasn't sure if that was a good think or bad thing. She didn't sound very pleased by his Radar Jamming, even though he usually white listed them immediately, this Pilot didn't even give him the chance.

As the Mk1 went soaring across the air and smashing down into pieces, Enyo spoke back through his external loud speaker. "Try asking again nicely...". As his words were being said, his Camo dropped from head to toe. Leaving his Mech back to it's bland Tan color. In a matter of seconds Alexi was staring down the barrel of Ghost's Rifle. Aimed directly at the cockpit of her Mech. "So, I hear you're having a Pit roast soon?" Enyo said, followed up with a light hearted laugh.

Alexi's Radar should of been cleared up by now. Being whitelisted by Enyo moments before he dropped his Cloak.

About 3 hours had passed since his departure, the rolling hills being slowly replaced with barren wastes and sandy dunes. The green town that he had lived in the past few years had been extremely close to the desert and, by extension, bandits. It was this proximity that spurred Nicholas to stay in the town. The past three hours had been rather uneventful, the autopilot commanding the mech to slowly trudge along the sand towards the provided coordinates. It was moments like these that the large space inside the mech was well appreciated - it allowed storage of more luxury goods, such as radios and books. The radio waves, being unable to pierce through the thick plates of metal that armored the unit, resulted in the device becoming little more than a staticky piece of plastic. That left nothing but the books to his disposal, only the finest of Frontier literature... from a decade ago. Most of it was propaganda, but several combat guides were still fairly applicable - as such, skimming through tactics and strategies that he had drilled into his head at 18 became the pastime for the next 2 hours.

The final hour was spent simply waiting in anticipation - his first fight in months, and his first real battle in... How many years? It had been so long that Nick had forgotten. His hands balled into fists, squeezing the cold metal of his units steering system. Sweat would have pooled off of his face, had he not had the AC turned as high as it could go to fight back the heat... No, the coolness cleared his head as well, made his thoughts vanish. The bitter cold reminded him of home, the frontier, the countless nights he had spent curled up in a ball in his unit, praying that he wasn't going to die that day. That was when he was new, fresh to the military - he was a veteran, a man of action. He wasn't weak like he used to be.

Even as this thought passed his head, he couldn't help but find himself trembling at the thought of risking his life again.

---

Finally, he had found his position - slightly over 5 kilometers away from the bustling train, nearby the tracks. Judging by the vehicles speed, it would probably pass him withing a few minutes, and considering his own units pathetic speed... Well, he would have to follow by air if the train passed him. Considering the lack of arms on his own unit, he lacked the fine manipulation necessary to recover the crate of Elementium. As the thought passed his mind, several messages came in through T's frequency.

"This is Pilot Designate F-003 'Alecto' hailing 'T.' We are now confirming arrival over the Iron Canal. I'll standby just outside of sensor range, but I'm prepared for rapid aerial deployment against the target when all other units are in position. Please confirm your status. Alecto out."

"Talk about a party. This is Rabbit and Fang. Sending IFF Codes to all pilots on this frequency. Try not to shoot at us yeah? Paint's expensive out here in the desertlands."

As the woman said, his units targeting system immediately began to recalibrate itself, including the target units as friendlies.

”This is Fang checking in, letting you all know, just in case IFF gets knocked out, that we’re the ones in the heavily modified Jager Hound and Chevalier units, wouldn’t want to get shot at due to equipment failure.”

While this 'Alecto' was no where in sight, she had already provided verbal confirmation of her presence, and assured that she would provide aerial support. Not to mention, she did so very formally, a trait that Nick appreciated greatly. The others, while not as formal, id provide both their codes and their units, both of which were very intelligent - not to mention, it saved Nick the effort of asking for them to avoid accidentally shooting them. This was when he began to observe the situation - the train was surrounded with 13 separate guards mechs, 10 sharing the same design. This almost certainly meant they were drones, or low ranking soldiers at best. While the train could theoretically be derailed with an explosive, doing so would almost definitely damage the cargo inside, and Nicholas was not comfortable with seeing priceless Elementium being consumed in the flames of the burning fuel and machinery. Activating his targeting system, he waited until 3 mechs had their heat signatures tracked before activating the comms system. Nicholas alerted the others to his presence shortly after.

"N, reporting in. Here are my own IFF codes - for clarification, I pilot a Northern Artillery Unit. My current position is roughly 10 kilometers down the trains path, but I will be able to provide long-ranged support. I am beginning to target 3 of the black units to the front of the train, and will fire when I am told to initiate combat. Be careful not to derail the train - Elementium is too precious to risk being devoured in the flames. N, reporting out."

After that, the cold sweat took over, and Nick slowly unbuttoned the top button of his uniform. This feeling, like his heart was trying to leap from his chest, like it could stop at any second - this was what he had missed. This rush, this exhilaration. It was already back, and he didn't even start combat yet. Gripping his controls with all of his might, Nick was prepared to launch a salvo at a moments notice.

@Liotrent@vietmyke@Feyblue@Pathfinder

All in total there were 18 men, 2 officals with each having 8 personal guards, gripping their weapons tightly. Even for these trained bodyguards, this particular situation was frighteningly tense. For this was not a standard meeting, it was negotiations between Hyloian and Theruxi diplomats.

On the Hyloian side was 1st Duke James Fallborough IV highly respected and feared royal emissary to the queen. He was draped in offical Hylo uniform, shimmering gold and blood red armor. On the other side of the discussion was Craig Semyon Vice President of Therux, a somewhat weak and weathered looking man, due in part to the stress of rebuilding a shattered post-war nation with the constant threat of war. After somewhat polite introductions Duke James decided to cut to the chase.

James:
You know I have no personal issues with you Mr Vice-President, but Hylo must put the interests of its people before shaky truces especially in this climate.

Craig Semyon stirred in his seat, his guardsmen flinching with his every movement.

Craig:
Climate? You mean the fact the Northern Frontier have been stockpiling elementum twice as much this year as they were the last? Breaking this truce only leaves us both vunerable, we find it curious that you only want to break the truce AFTER we managed to solve your hunger crisis with our produce deals and aid. I also remember a certain mech project that you pulled out of once your nation was able to reap the benefits of research, can you see why this sudden break is making me nervous?

James chuckled slightly under his breath, before returning Craig's panic with a cold stare.

James:
Yes, everything you said is true, we were putting our interests first, and our temporary truce was a means to an end. But now we must focus on frontier. But you are in no position to criticise the empire, dont think we dont know about all the mech factories you have been building in the free region, taking advantage of an area without a government to expand territory without any regulations sounds like you are taking shortcuts Semyon, why the sudden need for so many more Mechs?

Craig lowered his head in shame, couldn't return James' icy cold stare so he continued to look at his desk.

Craig:
We...we have the smallest army in the world! Hylo have been building mechs since the war, your army is 4 times the size of ours, and the Northern Frontier is pretty close. If they were to attack what do you expect us to do? The fortune region ALSO has been ripe for Elementum smuggling operations into Hyloian factories, but YOU wouldn't know anything about that would you? Not to mention that Lithin boy working for the Outcast Guild, Hylo is pretty involved in the freelands as well.

James was taken aback by the retort, and his body jolted very slightly before settling back to its original state. He cleared his throat and his voice became eerily calm again.

James:
I best be getting back to the Empire. Craig, don't let this broken truce escalate into anymore skirmishes, I'm sure none of us want that. The Queen will write to you very soon with the official terms, take care of yourself. The North are getting stronger every day.

The Duke and his men left the office at once, and there was an audible sigh from the Theruxi guards, all very relieved that no one was shot. Craig Semyon laid his head on the desk in front of him but was quickly interrupted by one of his staff, who looked very panicked and flustered.

There is a call for you Mr Vice President......its from Commander Vosen....

The lifeless, and motionless desert was starting to come to life, 5 mecha from across the guild were now in position, and they all managed to stay off the radar of the bandits upon entry to the mission area....that was until the 5 of them passed a desert nomad settlement. Disturbed by the foreign machines they shot an Alert Flare into the sky, which incidentally tripped the alarm system for the Drones.

The Other 3 pink, green and grey, were now alerted to and began to scramble into fighting position, all 3 seemed to be armed with assault rifles, and the high-jacked train's cannons slowly turned towards the position of the Guild Mechs, they were now in for a fight.

Battle For The Train!






The factory's dead silence was quite readily interrupted by 2 Outcast Mechs, one from the Frontier and another from the Fortune Region. After smashing a few junked mechs, something began to happen to the floor....it was shaking. There were no pilots coming up on radar, but there was definitely movement...and then...

CRASHHHHHHHHHH!

A huge eruption of flying junk blasted both mech's back for 10% damage each and at the center of the eruption a huge MK1 armored machine emerged, the radio crackled on and an erratic but angry voice began to speak.



.......Intrude....Intrude my junkyaard??! No more! Too many bandits!!! The Sentinel will not stand for this, your Mk2+ shells will go towards making me enough money to finish this factory...after I junk them of course....

The sentinel was at least 3 times the size of the 2 outcast guild mechs, and began firing it's cannons wildly in the direction of the two mechs who were just knocked back.

Fight The Sentinel!!!

Silvia grey famously known as the luggage makes her way around the desert, lost, and confused she looks at her scanners for anything to ease her boredom. But as all of the jobs were either too far or uninteresting she gave up on looking.

“SOMEONE CARRY ME PLEASE!” She yells out complaining about the emptiness of this vast desert but falls silence as no one responds to her cries of boredom. giving up, she continues her endless march towards the sand until a strange building greets her scanners.

To her the building was strange, it was too different for the fortune regions architecturally speaking. So, it was either a different nation or shady business was going on, so eager to get some action she prepares herself as she gets a paint bucket and starts painting her mech to mimic what a northern frontier mech would look like giving the illusion of a frontier attack.

After a few hours of painting, she was done all she needed to do was to get the right equipment and gear cause if she was going to make a mess she fully intends to make others take the consequences of it all and clean it all up, almost done she takes out a helmet a trophy of a victory in the past along with the jumpsuit that comes along with it.

Now she almost looks like a northern frontier pilot but barely though it was true she is 100 percent a northern she has no love for it and neither for the other two major countries, for her fortune region was her true homeland and that’s what only matters to her.

Her preparations were almost complete all she had to do was to change her voice “Testing 1… 2… 3…” She said as she adjusts her voice modulator “Testing 1… 2… 3…” She says again as her voice slowly turns masculine now she was ready to raid the facility all that she needed to do was to plan.

So, taking out a sniper rifle she scoops out the facility and found two important things about the strange structure. One, is that whatever it is its very important and second and most importantly is that Hylo mechs guards it.

Phoebe Norah

It was a hot day and a large silhouette could be seen next to a gas station. All you could see from the station were miles and miles of grass. Yet from right here, a faint noise could be heard from the station, or rather next to it. Inside of the Silhouette relaxed a girl, music on max, comic in hands, and feet up and over the dashboard. Phoebe occasionally reached beside her to grab a potato chip while she was waiting for something to happen, anything really. Waiting for a job was such a boring way to pass time, if only she could hear the constant buzz which was muted by the loud music. The noise was cut short though, after which a robotic deep voice could be heard.

“3 messages are waiting to be…answered.” After which the music continued.

“Owh! About time OG, thx Freighter.”

“You are…welcome.”

“Yeah yeah, just play the messages.” Said phoebe while cleaning up the cabin.

Hi Pilots! I'm a mech manufacturer from Therux looking to set up shop in Fortune. I plan to make a small business selling affordable, reliable mechs to the locals here, but I can’t find the time to do extensive testing on my prototypes. I need a capable pilot to jump into my New Custom Mk2 prototype and run a few tests, easy really!

“That one, lock onto that one.” She said while putting the comic in a drawer full of them. A few plings and boops could be heard before the mech’s UI showed the fastest route towards the job. of the three, this one was the most interesting to Phoebe; she was a mech-freak after all, not to mention it’s close proximity.

“Ke Freighter, take me there.” She said, putting her legs over the dashboard once more.

“Error; unable to find…Hare within the vicinity.”

“What? No, there not hare. Take me there! worthless voice recognition still needs work.” She banged the ceiling after the mech booted up its engines and started walking towards the destination.

“What can I do for you?”

“Nothing, I just wanted to hit you is all.”