Metal glinted on metal for miles around, the rippling heat waves of the incredibly hot environment making the center of the day the worst time to be moving around. Bladed spires jutted out at odd angles, harsh black shadows the barest reprieve from the scalding temperatures outside. The husk of a once great building crumbled in the distance as the edge of a battleship reared out of the metal sea. The sky was clear, not a cloud in the burning sky. In this world of heat and edges, there was only one type of thing that moved in such harsh conditions. Heralded by a horrendous clang of metal on metal and the cacophony of scraping blades and booming gunfire, the former battleship's hull erupted into a ball of flame that did nothing good for the already hot air.

A bipedal hulk leaped out, heavy jets firing moments before it impacted the ground with a sickening crunch, the rusted husk of a tank giving way to the heavy metal monster. It stared almost expectantly at the hull of the battleship, before leveling its weapon(A single-bladed axe with a blade edge that glowed a deep red) at the area directly below the blasted exit-hole. Its caution was rewarded as the metal bulged weirdly as two spikes ripped through the aging metal and tore open a path large enough for the mobile armor that followed to force its way through. Six legs of varying sizes hauled a massive body toward the mobile suit in a way that something so large should never move. Its furious charge forced aside the smaller wreckage in its mechanical fury, long blades unsheathing as it flew toward its target in a flurry of snapping death. The next two seconds filled the air with a horrible screeching and a stupid amount of dust as the mobile armor impacted. Sparks flew as a long, drawn out hissing drowned out even the flailing of the multitude of arms.

The whirlwind of death stopped as abruptly as it had begun, the unnatural stillness and the raging heat taking control of the situation once more. The tangled heap of metal that used to be the proud form of the mobile armor shifted crumpled away as a large chunk of the blade remained stuck inside the shield of the still standing mobile armor. What had determined the fight was quite apparent. The mobile suit had darted into its enemy at the same time as the mobile armor had charged, driving the heat-axe into the core of the machine and letting the MA do the rest of the shredding to itself. The suit bent over to retrieve its axe before confirming the kill with a single stomp to the exposed cockpit.

Inside the Reichsritter, Jonathan spat a harsh laugh out, before continuing to taunt his downed prey from inside his cockpit, punctuating each of his sentences with another stomp. "Such a little bitch.-"stomp"-couldn't do jack to me-"stomp"-waste of fuckin' fuel-"stomp"-waste of air-"stomp"-scratched my paint-"stomp.

The throbbing sound of the rotor blades beating against the air echoed out across the heat of the junkyard. The pilot deftly guided himself into a valley, caressing it's curves as he flew down its length. With a hard pull on the stick and some rudder, he stopped and turned to face the way he had come. Soon enough his pursuer came around the corner and barrelling towards him. Sliding sideways to avoid a long line of tracers, he answered in kind with a burst of cannon fire from his twin 23 millimetre guns that gun diagonally across the tripod style mech, destroying a leg and damaging its weapons systems. He strafed to the side and raked it with more cannon fire until it exploded with a flash.

"Guard Seven to Sheep, Wolf is down. Resuming orbit."

Inserting his aircraft back into the valley, he returned to his patrol area, defending an ongoing salvage operation from opportunistic raiders that cared little about what they attacked. The down wash dislodged debris from the mounts of trash, triggering avalanches of junk as he passed. Pulling back on the stick again, he rose above a mound of trash, rising thermals buffeting him for the few seconds he was above the peaks as he looked for the telltale dust clouds of moving mechs. Not seeing anything, he dropped back below the level of the ridges and checked his charge level.

"Guard Seven, my shift is done. Say hi to Logan for me when he gets here."

Dipping the nose, he made one more pass low over the salvage team, taking a slightly circuitous route back to his home base, carefully manoeuvring into the mouth of the cave and through the open steel doors of the ancient bunker. The doors slammed behind him as the aircraft touched down and the rotors slowed to a stop.

August examined the brute of a mech that was the Reichsritter from over a dune, the easy curves of the Moloch in combination with its already-sandy color scheme giving it a very believable impression of just another sand dune, although August was painfully aware that anyone who dared to actually investigate would give the jig up almost immediately.
He had been scouring around the area for almost a week now, attempting to learn as much about the local society as possible, lest he accidentally offend a dominant faction in any way and get run out of town. Again. Unsure of whether to approach the mech that was still brutally demolishing the dead hulk of its challenger, August ducked the Moloch back down and decided to continue to follow the Reichsritter incognito, as it had done since the sun had come up.

Jonathan's frenzied stomping slowly abated, until he was doing it in lieu of anything to do as he thought out his next move. After setting the Reichsritter's foot down for a final time outside of the now useless pile of machinery, the pilot began to run a systems check, scanning his immediate area for any suspicious blips on his radar. Nothing. Jonathan smiled. That meant he could get back to Haven with out some random asshole coming out of the metal to slice him. He sat back in the chair, carefully angling the main camera down to shoot a picture of the mulched mech and the exceptionally flat cockpit. Confirmation of kill. Making a mental note to send in the completed hit, the metallic behemoth turned, stalking into the ruined mountains and the dunes that lead to Haven. As soon as it reached the first dune, it began to set off in a loping stride through the desert landscape, with Jonathan making sure to keep a watchful eye out for additional attackers.

Tracking along the waste like an exceptionally large dog, the Moloch used the omnipresent wreckage for cover as August continued to follow the Reichsritter back to Haven. Crawling over a tank that was burned out and on its side, August pondered on the mech he chose to follow this day. Obviously some sort of mercenary, but August couldn't imagine a society that would keep so many mercenaries in business without completely exhausting its population in just a decade or two. Either way August had decided to man up and finally make an introduction to Haven; he needed to restock on food and his superiors were getting impatient with the speed of his integration to a society. Waiting for a minute or two to let the Reichsritter gain ground, August stepped the Moloch out from cover and acted as if he were simply another wanderer headed in the same direction.

The 'twins' were wandering haven, looking for new parts, weapons and other things for their mech. They stopped and looked around at each stall, all they could find were cheap rip offs, old parts and over priced new items.
they gave off a sigh and headed towards the bounty board. We should check if theirs any new contracts today. they thought. As they passed their mech, they climbed up the side and checked their power. FULL it read, they climbed down and tore a sheet off the board.

2000 for the assassination of... they didn't bother reading the rest, they made their way back to Kitoro, suited up and got moving. As the mech powered up they engaged their wheels and quickly raced out and used the jump jets to get moving. They couldn't help but grin.

The entire Reichsritter stopped dead as soon as the blip that was the Moloch appeared on the radar, Jonathan snapping to attention and raising his guard, raising the firewalls and various other protective programs as the hulking biped stomped around to face the newcomer. He loudly cursed the heavens that he'd not noticed his traveling companion, choosing instead to grasp and draw one of the many melee weapons on the unit, the massive bastard-sword that slid out of the top of the shield with the distinctive mechanical hiss of well-oiled joints. Loudspeakers crackled to life as Jonathan flipped a small switch on the topside of the cockpit as he examined the new mech, which remained untagged on his screen. The resulting boom of static cleared as a voice that carried more metal that the surrounding dunes growled out a distorted: "Identify, fuckface! I'm not in the mood to deal with would be fucking assassins!"

The Moloch stopped dead in its tracks and lithely side-stepped to be partially behind a burned out tanker truck before responding. "Don't know what you're talking about, man. I got no interest in you; I'm just on my way to--erm, Haven. It is this way, right?"
Suffering a momentary bout of panic as August mentally double-checked that he hadn't completely dropped the ball by positing that Haven was somewhere off in the middle of nowhere, he pressed a couple buttons and attempted to measure up Johnathan's mecha to see if he would be able to di di mao before it was able to close with those grotesque melee weapons that it had dispatched its previous foe with with such ease.

The Reichsritter's blade remained pointed directly at the possible assailant, while Jonathan considered his options from the inside. If he killed this man now, saved all the trouble he could possibly bring. If he let him live, there was the possibility this mysterious mecha could possibly be used to drag in more dough, or as a bullet monkey if they ever ran into each other on a mission. There was, however, another benefit for letting him live... Jonathan gave a short, harsh burst of laughter that did translate over the speaker very well, instead forming as a loud and obnoxious burst of static. ...to ward off a rather... annoying character. The Reichsritter straightened up as Jonathan made his decision and relayed it to the unknown mech. "Oi, asshat. Why don't I take you to Haven. Lead you there, in fact. Help one another out? Fucking spirit of goodwill and that shit."

The Moloch remained behind cover, although August eventually replied with ". . .Sure; why not. What's your name? Mine's August,--" August paused momentarily to think up a reliable cover story that he could remember. "--August Sands. I'm a ranger; I go out into the wilderness and mark down valuable salvage or landmarks and pass it on to other people for money. What'd you do?"
The Moloch finally stepped out and up, padding a few meters closer to the Reichsritter, although its hunched over stance and coiled legs give the impression of it being ready to spring away if things went pear-shaped.

The Reichsritter's head turned to look back where he came from, where the wreckage of the mobile armor still cooled(although not much, it was a desert), before turning back to the Moloch. Then it looked back at the place it came from, then again to the Moloch. Then it repeated the cycle for a final time as the speakers crackled to life once more. "Jonathan. I'm a fucking cook. I win fucking awards for my fucking delicious pastries." Jonathan's arms flicked over the set of keys in front of him, turning down the electrical warfare suite and ordering his massive robot to sheath the bastard sword. It complied, the blade sliding away with the same hiss of well oiled parts. Jonathan then cut the speakers, switching over to his radio and prompting the Moloch to open a channel.

Cassandra pulled up to Haven in her Ogre, switching to a hind mounted camera to see if anyone had followed her, as well as to admire the large trail of tread marks and plowed-through junk piles behind her. Switch the camera back to the front, she shut down the systems of the mech, pulling the key out of the ignition and placing it back on the lanyard around her neck, where she kept it when not piloting. With an adjustment of her desert scarf, she hid the key and lanyard, then made her way out of the ogre, using the elevators which ran on reserve power to reach ground level before exiting through a door tucked into the inner side of one of the legs. The difference between the outside and the air conditioned interior of her mech was stark, though having spent most of her life in this weather, Cassandra was used to it.

As she made her way through town, Cassandra figured she would check out the bounty board before going about the rest of her leisure. She looked through the contracts, seeing escort jobs, assassinations, but nothing she cared much for at the time. Sighing at the lack of options currently on the board, she kept strolling through the oasis, heading to one of the local bars in search for a job that wasn't posted and a stiff drink. As she entered, she walked over to the counter, ordering two bottles of whiskey with the earnings from her last job. Booze in hand, she posted up against a wall, watching the bar patrons and taking swigs from her bottles.

The Moloch continued to inch closer, like a wild animal that wasn't sure what to do in the situation. Finding the Reichsritter's radio channel, August replied after a long silence with a deadpan ". . .Good. I'll have to try your work when I get the chance." Changing topics wildly, August continued with "You got a lot of enemies or are people leaping out of the junk at you with intent to kill just commonplace occurrences around here?"

Before answering, the Reichsritter turned around, the heavy feet slamming against the metal as it set off in a loping stride in the direction it had been going previously, as Jonathan snapped off a single word over the communication system. "Follow." Without bothering to check if the Moloch could keep up, the machine made quick time through the metal wasteland, keeping its head low as Jonathan began to explain his predicament.
"You're new here, right? Someone from either the oasis's or the edge, right? This here's fucking bandit country. Trying to kill people comes with the territory and all that shit." He maneuvered the mech around a rusted hull of what seemed to be a MBT. The armored feet slammed against the constantly shifting ground, the balancing system working in overdrive as Jonathan extended the radar range of the Reichsritter in an attempt to find out if any more hidden surprises would appear on the horizon. Mechanical pistons creaked and hissed before adding the insomniac added another comment over the radio. "Angry fucking bandits, mind you. And fucking Yo-Ho the Pirate."

While the battery was charged, Ian walked to the kitchen, returning a moment later with a glass of water and a sandwich balanced on a plate, the crust of the latter cut off. He sat on the edge of the open cockpit, enjoying his lunch and making plans for his next job. Guard work paid well enough but ultimately it was boring as hell for a mediocre payout. Taking out a few hits might be a decent way to score some fast cash. He finished his sandwich on this thought and placed the dishes in the sink. Returning to his aircraft to find the batteries ready for another flight, he climbed into the cockpit and was soon making a landing in Haven.

Ian hopped out of his cockpit and headed for a nearby pub that he frequented. He sat down with a beer at a table near the bar, sipping it slowly.

The mech came to a stop, the 'Twins' started running the long range scanners for any signs of other mech signatures out in the junkyard, two signatures came up. They activated the sniper and started aiming towards them, the two were making their way towards Haven. He continued to monitor them in case they were going to be trouble.

The Moloch glided along behind the Reichsritter with an astonishing amount of silence, at least for something with as much mass and volume as a semi-trailer. Sensor suites constantly on the alert, the Moloch closed the distance with a short running burst as August said "Yo-ho? As in parrots and rum? Seems a bit ironic given the environment."

Jonathan's response was as dry and bitter as the environment around them. "Don't even get me fucking started on the fucking pirates. Yo-Ho's got a fucking parrot, too. Likes to make people walk the plank. Instead of getting eaten by fish, they break their legs and shit like that. They just-" His voice cut off as an alert on the Reichsritter's own scanners picked up another mech. Cursing like the pirates he despised, the pilot typed in a few commands to activate the electronic warfare systems, firewalls raising and broadcasting a wave of static and false information across all the channels he wasn't using. His heavy monster of a robot switched directions on command, turning at a loping stride toward the newest signal his shield raised and deployed at an angle to defend him from incoming fire. "Oh lovely, company. Need to get in fucking range to use the fucking speakers again, yippee-ass-dammit."

Instead of turning with the Reichsritter to face the newcomer as a duo, the Moloch turned and leapt in what was, at least for a mech, an astonishingly fast and smooth movement. Now behind cover, the Moloch's electronic countermeasures deployed as it crouched down slightly, leaving only the two autocannons above the rusted out hulk of a fishing dinghy, each of their targeting systems active and searching for a threat.

They couldn't help but burst out laughing when the two mechas noticed him, he was on the verge of tears when they started to get ready for a fight. They simply stood up and announced over the speaker.

"What lovely language you have their my friend. I can tell you're in a shit house mood today!'' He gave a slight mocking bow and shouted over the speaker.
"The name's Jurano...." He announced in a happy tone. stopped for a second to let Hirota speak
"And i'm Hitora." Hitora announced with a cold tone.
"AND We're the Lightfire twins." they both announced with the same bow.
"Now what are a couple of large Mobile Armours doing out here in the Junkyard." They couldn't help but laugh.

We have such the tactical advantage at this range, their weapons are useless until they come near. Which we won't let them do. they thought with the happiest smile they could muster.