Eli was plenty good at multitasking, and had no problems listening to the captain alongside shuffling through the dossiers. The overarching goal of the mission sunk in, but she payed special attention to the bits concerning herself and her comrades. The melee-focus of her own role didn't come as a surprise, it was what she had trained for. What did come as a surprise were the roles of the others, not out of distaste, but rather just the feel of what their team would be like. The two she wasn't sure of were "Percy" and "Verona". Jingo and Madison had introduced themselves so that didn't leave many options, and the remaining NC's she'd seen helped narrow it down. It sounded like Percy was more oriented towards direct combat if he was being paired with Madison to clear out potential hostiles. So his was likely the more standard looking NC, leaving the artillery-looking one, which must have been Verona's. Interesting name, though she couldn't quite place a nationality.
Then of course there were the threats. The radiation didn't seem too much of an issue, and while the thought of going up against actual enemies didn't worry her --at least not in any way she'd admit-- she couldn't help wonder what it would be like. Were the factions sending greens like them as well, or would these be seasoned veterans? There was mention of possible melee-class NC's, Red-Stars at that, were they well-trained? A ninety-eight percent success rate was encouraging, but Eli couldn't help but feel it was inflated. With such potential for combat how could the odds ever be that skewed?
Whatever of the case, Eli decided it best not to dwell on it for long. When they were dismissed she went directly to the hanger and took the lift up to Blur's cockpit. It was hard to remain straight-faced as she ascended, and were she of a lesser composure the sight of the pilot's seat would have made her giddy. But before she could be happy, there came the quiet yet incessant yapping in the back of her mind. It made her breaths, already shortened by the cold, thin air, even shorter, made her hands twitch into tight little balls. When the lift came to a stop she sped into the seat, and only when she was sealed inside did she remove her hood and loosen the scarf.
Breathe. As the connection process began she knew that if she didn't calm herself it would only complicate things. Breathe. In. Out. The very idea of sharing her mind, her body, herself as a whole with a machine unnerved her. If the hull took damage would she feel it? Or would there simply be an absence, a numbness. Stop. Damage was inevitable in something this big. All of them were just massive walking targets, surely hitting one couldn't be that hard. What if she wasn't fast enough? You know what will happen if you don't stop.
Eli exhaled, her whole body shook. When her lungs were empty her pulse slowed, and as they refilled the edging panic ebbed away. As the connection process continued on she regretted not contacting Vera beforehand. She had promised to tell her what the NC's were like, and there was a throb in the back of her mind. You may never get to.You aren't going to die. She chose to listen to the latter, taking it to heart before trying to relax and starting the simulations as they had been instructed to. Four hours would be enough to prepare, and when it was time to move out she would be ready. She would have to be.
Percy had nearly jumped out of his chair when he heard the captain. As she continues to speak, he tries to straighten himself up and not look like he just had the everloving shit scared out of him.
When the dossiers were handed out, he flipped through the pictures rather quickly at first, just to see what they all looked like, then he went back and listened to the explanations with his peers. When it was mentioned he and Madison were going to be grouped together, he glanced over to her - and she very well might be looking back at him - then he looked back to the pictures.
So I'm working with the kid, then.
He grimaced when it got to the point where the the notes for the last picture had said "Let the Mad-e take the brunt of the hits,"
Percy looks back to Madison again. She's basically a child, how dare they say to let her take the hits? She looks like she's at MOST, 16! His parental instincts are kicking in and they're not even in the mission yet. He's not keen on letting someone get hurt - especially when they're so young.
Did she just sign up for this cause she thought it'd be fun? He takes a moment to remember, and.. she did. At least, she made it out like she did, saying she saw the opportunity to pilot an NC and thought "Hell yes!", in more or less those words.
After being dismissed, Percy gives Madison a more intense stare, like he's wanting to say something to her. but again, it feels like his mouth won't let the words come out. So he simply silently promises her,
You're not getting hurt on my watch.
I freaked myself out over this post I shouldn't have but weh. I'll get better I swear.
Madison laid the dossier on the table and began flipping through the pages while listening to the Captain's thorough explanation of the mission, noting that she would be partnered up with the one that she called 'Freckles' for an enemy elimination side of things while Joe, Jingo and Eli were to focus on solely on the extraction. She looked up towards Percy, as he glanced at her, not saying a thing, before she turned back to the briefing and continued to absorb the information. As the crew meeting continued she couldn't help but feel that Percy was looking at her the entire time. It was beginning to creep her out like he was someone judging her for being one of those typical stereotype like characters.
The captain finished her pep talk and dismissed her team, allowing Madison to get up and leave the room. On the way out she saw Percy give her one last intense stare.
"Oh my god! What is up with this guy. He doesn't talk, he's sits as far away from everyone as possible, and then he stares at me the entire time!"
Thinking to herself and only focusing on those following her, she didn't even notice that she had entered the hanger until she bumped into a familiar figure.
Duncan Brown
Duncan could see Madison had something on her mind so he purposely stood in her way, letting her bump into his body. The nudge came as a shock to her, forcing her eyes to break out of whatever trance she was in before looking up at who she ran into.
"Duncan!", she bellowed out before grabbing him with a hug as if a few days absence had actually been a few years.
"Why hello there stranger," he replied, grinning at her over the top reaction, "C'mon, we'll grab a coffee, have a talk and catch up."
The two of them spent some time in the kitchen talking over what had happened over the past few days. She spoke about her experiences at the barracks while he talked about the weird and wonderful group of mechanics and engineers he was assigned with, that is before Duncan propped the question. "So tell me what's up. You never go quiet like that unless something is bothering you"
"It's that Percy creep." She turned away from Duncan and folded her arms like a 6 year old who didn't want to listen to their over bearing parents.
"You've only known him for a couple of hours," he replied in a calm, reassuring voice while sipping his coffee at the end of his sentence, "Besides, all the pilots have had background checks, you know this, and you all got accepted because you each excelled in various situations. Do I need to remind you that you yourself failed the cerebral resonance test with the worse mark out of the group, and in the simulation NC you finished the battle with 2 system failures and 6% health remaining..."
Slowly she turned to him to see what it was that he was trying to accomplish with this talk.
"... yet somehow you managed to fight a small battalion of Fairbanks .LTD and Paragon NCs," he shrugged lightly as Madi gave a halfassed nod of approval. "That's why they are trusting you with one of the heavy weight NCs which can take a beating. A couple of the others didn't even score a scratch let alone half the damage you endured. The same goes for Percy. He has his skills and the higher-ups trusted him enough for their team, as will you eventually." Duncan stood up and ruffled his hands through her hair as he started to leave the room, "Not everyone is out to kill you, kido, so I'll talk to Percy and find out what's bothering him, OK? You go sync up with the NC and check out the mods we've done to the programming. Had to give you more manual controls because the OS couldn't handle your hyperactive nature."
They both chuckled to themselves as they each parted ways. Duncan thought it'd be best to check up on Percy and have a cupper with him while Madison headed off towards her NC.
Madison Cole
Madison held onto the edge of the lift as it came to a stop at the rear of her Mad-e NC. Sticking out of the back was an open top compartment with the exposed pilot seat to which Madison comfortably shuffled herself into. With a press of the button the pod retracted back into the NC like a CD drive returning into a PC tower, locking her in a darkened room. The lights began to gently illuminate her surroundings with a pastel hue of of the rainbow as she pulled back the side of the hair above her right ear and pulled a cord from the headrest of the seat behind her, plugging it into a small port that was surgically implanted.
"Begin Sync," she spoke as the computer system began to start up it's boot sequence. > Initialising Mad-e System Software > System: Check > Weapons: Check > Ammunition: 100% > Power: 100% > Cerebral Resonance: 16% > Cerebral Resonance Failure = Shutting Down Mad-e =
"Fuck," As Madi slammed her fist on the dashboard in front of her she let out a mighty yell so loud that it was more than likely heard by the workers surrounding the NC. Staring at the dash in defeat, wondering if joining this team was some mistake, she noticed a scrap of paper taped to the side with an arrow pointing to a glowing, triangle shaped button and the words "Press me" scribbled on it. As soon as she gave it a slight tap the cockpit began to fill with a beat, a beat that allowed her to lay back and place her hands on the two handle bar like control levers. Her breathing slowed down to a more relaxed pace, her thoughts began to smooth out and as she tapped her fingers to the rhythm she tried for a second time.
"Begin Sync," > Initialising Mad-e System Software > System: Check > Weapons: Check > Ammunition: 100% > Power: 100% > Cerebral Resonance: 97% > Cerebral Resonance Complete = All Systems Operational = "Welcome Madison Cole"
Joe simply skimmed the dossiers, only paying models he didn't recognize extended attention, there was no point in reading what one already knows. After the briefing he gave Jingo a neutral "Is there anything we need to clear up before this?" look, it was easy to mistake for any other requesting look though.
Once everything was clear Joe approached his NC to get inside; some engineers were still doing checks, mostly software-checks, but nothing that would hinder him from entering. As he sat down, Joe didn't connect, as he had other priorities, but he still closed the cockpit's hatch.
After the hatch closed and he was out of sight, Joe quickly reached into one of his pockets, pulling a small memory-card out. If he didn't make a mistake, it should contain a script, that, when run, crashes most NC's control programs. The NC should then switch to a fallback console-interface(provided it has one at all); terrible at controlling the NC, but very good at managing and configuring the internal computer. Joe inserted the card into a designated slot, and used the manual controls and a tiny screen to order the computer to run the script: The tiny screen was instantly flooded with error messages and then went black, leaving only a blinking white underscore at the top left of the screen. An engineer checking some software shouted a curse at the crash, drawing the attention of everyone in the hangar to himself. Joe continued by plugging himself in, obviously the connection itself failed due to the crashed programs though, which Joe fixed bypressing the 'reset' button, which was well hidden behind the seat. The button reset the program processing the input from the plug, allowing Joe to use the command prompt to do a deep and direct check and configuration of the systems. The reason why he did this was mostly the inconvenience of the default configuration, in addition to the standard variations of that configuration also not meeting his requirements, as they mostly were sensitivity or feedback options, or a control-remapping[mostly to allow controlling additional limbs in NCs that had them]. He was ok with the input for the legs being directly mapped to the corrosponding leg-joints, as the legs weren't really useful for controlling anything except for one's stance, however, he hated a direct mapping of the arms, as that only left voice-command for any non-motoric function access/control. The main problem he had with voice command was that one can only speak so fast, while motion or motion-controlled-controls[keyboards, buttons, switched] are much quicker to be performed and parsed. As such he preferred to instead have his upper body not be mapped to the NC, but instead to a virtual body in front of a virtual control-board with frequently used controls on it, and also a virtual keyboard to access not so frequently used functions. Mods like these weren't really freely available from trustworthy sources, so he had to create it himself using whatever was already installed on the computer. Luckily most NC's computers had a tiny mostly hidden virtual 3D environment for debugging purposes. It would have to suffice for him to do it in time, especially if the engineers were trying to fix the 'problem' in the software while he was working on it. As a quick and dirty solution Joe simply killed the processes allowing the laptops, notebooks and other devices of the engineers to connect to the NC's computer. Promptly a second curse echoed through the hangar; a laptop and its screen, separated, flew after it.
Time passed until he was finished, and Joe was exhausted at the end. Apart from the digestive system, the human brain was the most energyhungry part of the human body. He still had a littlebit of time until the mission started, so he decided to rest while listening to some comm-chatter.
Jingo held out the tin of cakes at the others in the truck, giving them his best inviting smile as he did, he shook the tin at them, the cakes rumbled around inside merrily. Slowly, though, his out-stretched arm grew tired and so did the smile on his face, it drooped into a frown and he slowly retracted his hand away, sealing the metal circle and placing it back into his bag. 'It seems that they don'nee want any tea cakes.' he thought to himself morosely, as he leaned back onto his duffle bag and stroked the yellowed plastic of his prosthetic arm. The rest of the ride went by, for him at least, in silence, just him, the sound of a truck full of breathing and the bumpiness of the road beneath. As soon as they arrived at the camp, they unloaded themselves from the truck, Jingo threw his duffle bag over his shoulders and hopped off of the vehicle, falling into line behind the rest. As he walked, snow crunched under his feet like glass, it was a satisfying sound.
Crunch Crunch Crunch
Jingo hoped that the first thing that they would do would be heading to the Barracks, his back hurt from sitting up right against the truck wall and he felt the need to unpack his marginal amount of things but he suppressed a groan as the group was lead away, instead moving to a distant building that was the briefing room. In the distance, he caught a glimpse of the NCs, namely his, the stockier one with the older looking parts, though not old in the sense that they were in bad shape, old in the sense that they were... old. A shiver went up his spine, despite trying to convince himself that it was the cold, he knew deep down that the sight of the large metal beast scared him. As he walked, a building slowly crept over his field of view and obscured The Wessex, he felt a bit calmer. Jingo followed behind the rest, pushing heavy double doors out of the way as he walked, as every time he came to a set they were closing again. Soon though they were in the briefing room and he took a seat around the table with everyone else, it was a sparsely furnished room, with a dusty slide projector sat idle in the middle of the room and a white painted wall opposite it being the only details, apart from the desk and chairs of course.
As the woman who was evidently commander spoke, Jingo flipped though the file that was chucked in front of him, it was a thick mass of paper, held together by what must have been dozens of paperclips. As he turned the cover of the file, a click then a whir caught his attention, he looked up and the projector had flickered to life, producing a dusty cone of lighten and casting detailed floor plans and pictures of documents on the opposite white wall. Jingo let the cover of the file fall back onto the pages and instead turned his attention to the slide show and the captain who as pointing out key details. Upon finishing the briefing, the lot was dismissed, and much to Jingo’s relief, they would have time to relax and recuperate before their excursion. Before filing out of the room along with the others, Jingo pulled the tin of cakes out of his bag and opened it, inclining the open container to the commander.
“Care for a Teacake ma’am?” he asked, hopeful that she would take one, she just fixed him with a hard look and mumbled.
“Gluten. Intolerant.” Jingo quickly fixed the lid back on the container and slung the bag over his shoulder, tucking the tin under his arm before saluting.
“Aye, ma’am.” Jingo scurried off.
After taking a shower that was oddly colder then the weather outside and unpacking his things into the footlocker at the foot of his bed, Jingo was ready to get into his NC. He slipped his t-shirt over his grey, woolen thermals and buckled up his cargo pants with one hand, an action that came naturally to him as he preferred to use the prosthetic as little as possible, as they were not easy to come by and he didn’t want to break his. Jingo opened the door to a hair raising gust, he threw his arms around his body and instantly recoiled, as a jabbed his hand with the blunt hooks at the end of his false arm. Instead, he decided to wrap his body in his good arm and let the fake one dangle by his side, he jogged out of the barracks, keeping warm by moving not stopping until he saw the Wessex in the distance. His skin went pale, his body refused to move forward, the sight of the NC freezing him in his place, he realized that he had yet to get over his fear of NCs, he visualized the cramped inside of his old NC and being crushed against his seat by the imploding front of the machine, screaming as the coolant trickled down his back giving him frost burns and eating away at him with it's caustic volatility. He snapped out of it when he shivered, 'Cold..' he made his way to the feet of the giant vehicle, where a man was putting away welding equipment, "Torch me!" he blurted out.
When he lived in Falcon Reach, it was common for workers to torch each other when they were feeling cold, they'd close the oxygen valve to the flame so that a cold, yellow fire would come out opposed to a hot blue one and they'd quickly brush the flame over the torchee to warm them up. The welder seemed to get the reference, as he cut off the oxygen and ignited the flame, brushing it over Jingo like someone would brush a feather duster over an old vase. Jingo nodded his thanks, "Thank ye, sir." the man merely nodded and continued packing away his tools. Adjacent to the leg of the NC, scaffolding rose up to the cockpit, creaky and rusty punctuated by platforms of wood planks, Jingo swallowed his fears and began the ascent. He climbed up, rung by rung making way to the top of the metal structure, it wasn't the heights that made him afraid, it was getting into an NC after a decade or so of loathing them, they he didn't know they would petrify him as much as they did. Upon, reaching the top, he found two people shuffling around outside the open cockpit, chatting as they did. "Excuse me?" he called to the pair of mechanics, they turned in unison, “Am I right'n saying this is my vehicle?"
The pair were twins, that was quite obvious, they shared the same chestnut hair and lavender eyes, they had the same facial structure but one was a man and the other a woman. The man leaned over to the woman and whispered a bit too loudly.
"See Gwenda, I told you the pilot was a zombie scotsman." Gwenda's eyes went wide and she turned to face her brother, yelling at him before smacking him with a wide, splayed hand.
"Victor, you idjit! We don't say that to our guests!" She turned to Jingo and gave him a smile, she wasn't a pretty girl but she wasn't ugly, she had a warm strength about her that was common in folk of her line of work, "You must be Mr. Strange, I’m Gwenda Keighly and this is my brother, Victor, say hello Victor.” Victor didn’t, Gwenda took his hand and crushed it in her grip, “Say hello, Victor.”
“Alright, Alright, hello Mr. Strange!” he yelped, trying to get his hand out of her grip, “now let go of you witch!” She smacked him across the face again.
“Don’t call me a witch, moron!” she shrieked at him, reaching for a spanner that hung at her belt. Jingo quickly interjected, with his prosthetic arm, he held onto the wrench before she could lift it from her side.
“You can call me Jingo Ms. Keighly, and killing your brother won’t be needed.” She ‘eeped’ when the cold metal of his claspers touched her hand, that stung Jingo. She clutched her hand to her chest and looked at his face with a a scared look, she wasn’t looking at his eyes, and Jingo knew that. He fidgeted under her look.
“I’m so sorry Jingo, I didn’t mean to! your hoo- hand was just very cold and I was just star-“
“It’s alright.” Jingo mumbled, slipping between the two and into the cockpit of Wessex, “Just seal me in.” he sat down on a leather seat and Gwenda handed him a floppy disc.
“It’s an old computer Jingo, you’ll need this, it’s the forth boot disk, put it into slot two, slot one has a jammed disk in it and we can’t get it out,” She lowered the top of the cockpit down and whispered quickly before it shut, “I’m sorry.” Jingo sighed and got to work, flipping on the cabin light and looking around. To his right was an old clunky keyboard, and to his left and on the ceiling banks of buttons, switches, dials and knobs, each one was familiar, he had designed the layout to match that of his old mining NC. He flipped the red arming latch to the engine and flipped the switch, behind him the engine whirred to life and the whole cabin began to vibrate gently. He insisted the floppy disk, labeled ‘4th Boot’ into slot two and the light went from red to green, to it’s right was slot one, it’s light yellow signaling a fault. He ignored it and turned a nob above him on the computer control panel, a magnetic tape wheel behind him started to turn, he turned the dial again and it sped up, the computer in front of him flickering to life with a black-green light. He tapped in the code to boot up the computers.
Green characters appeared on the black, buzzing monitor, appearing after every tap of the keyboard, proceeded by another pixelated character, then another, before Jingo tapped enter and the remaining tape reals behind him whirred into life, booting the NC-OS
Jingo gulped. Then tapped ‘Y’. The magnetic ring that hovered over his head like a halo flared up with light and Jingo’s head fell gently onto the headrest of his seat, unconscious.
Jingo heard a voice, it was faint but he recognized it to be Gwenda’s, “Easy there Jingo, this is your first time going under for 12 years now, so take it slow.” she spoke in a soft Irish accent, “If you can hear me, rev your engines.” it came to him instinctually, as if he always had engines, he revved them from a gentle purr to a guttural roar before settling back into the purr. “Good, now can you turn left?” he did, “How about right? Good. Now how about you activate your camera?” at first a small point of light blipped into existent at the center of his field of view, slowly it grew into a white circle and the light faded away to show Gwenda smiling into the camera, “I know you’ve only been in simulations, so how about you take a walk? Get use to the weight, that sound good?” Jingo was feeling terrified, he was waiting for a boulder to smash him to pieces but it didn’t, so he revved his engine slightly and took a tentative step forward, then another. No boulder. He began to walk around a bit, “good job jingo.” she said encouragingly, Jingo broke into a light jog around the compound, practicing before the excursion.
When Madison looks back at Percy with that uncomfortable look on her face, he knows he messed up. His face reddens as he thinks of all the things she must think of him now. He groans softly, and then covers his face with his hands. Today hasn't gone well at all, why did he bother showing up? Something even worse is going to happen because of the rest of the craziness and his own stupidity. Someone's going to get hurt because of him being an idiot. He feels like he could just cry, but he can't do that in public. He doesn't have any "big tough guy" reputation to keep or anything, but it's always embarrassing to just lose it in public. People start coming over and it makes it worse.
He notices someone looking at him with concern on their face, but before they can come over Percy quickly stands up and he just sits outside. Unless that guy is dead-set on coming over and pummeling him with "are you ok"s, he'll be fine. He'll just sit in the cold. The cold helps him focus on something else other than his own crazy thoughts. He puts his jacket hood up and he just... sits there. In the cold.
He realizes a few minutes later how fucking goofy he must look - 29 year old guy sitting in the fucking cold acting like some angsty teenager, but he doesn't know what else to do. Sure, his background check came up clean and he did reasonably well in the simulation for someone that's never had anything to do with NCs in his life, but if there was a good psychologist around, he's sure he would have been denied. He's not a criminal, sure, but this job heavily requires speaking to other people. He is not good at speaking to other people. At all. He just gives them creepy stares and makes them uncomfortable and make them hate him.
Percy's train of thought stops for a moment, then exhales. The puff of condensation that comes from his nose makes it obvious.
I came out here to stop thinking, not to keep thinking.
Duncan walked over to the man sitting outside in the cold and handed him a hot cup of coffee, "So Percy, care for a bit of a chat?"
Percy jumped - he didn't expect anyone to come out. He looks up from where he's sitting, and sees the coffee.. He hesitantly stands up and takes the mug.. Then looks at Duncan, wondering if he recognizes him or not. After a moment, he quietly speaks to someone for the first time since he got to the hangar, asking shakily, "Do I know you?" If Duncan is observant, he might notice that it looks like Percy's on the verge of breakdown.
"Probably not," he speaks while taking a sip of his drink, "Although it looks like something seems to be bothering you, mind if I ask what's up? Cause no sane man would willingly sit out here on their own in the cold."
Percy looks at Duncan with suspicion. For one, Duncan knows Percy's name, but that might be explainable because he heard someone say it, or read it in some file. For two, he's offering him a drink. What if it's spiked with something? He realized how stupid that thought was, but it didn't stop him from not drinking from that mug. He's heard plenty about people getting drugged and taken away, and just cause Duncan doesn't look like the type to do that doesn't mean he isn't. Looks are decieving.. he then notices that he hasn't even answered Duncan's question. To Percy, it felt like Duncan was silently judging him for being so quiet. "I'm.. I'm fine. Just have a lot on my mind.. Wondering if I should have even signed up for this.. Can't remember if I told my daughter I loved her before I left the house.. Wishing I became an engineer instead of basically putting a gun to my head and hoping it doesn't go off. Regretting my life choices, really." Percy actually laughs at that.. but tears are forming in his eyes again. He wasn't lying.
"Ah, so you're wondering if the easy road is sometimes better than the road less travelled. Sometimes we have to fight for what we love and care about. Take Madison for instance. She's been through a fair amount of hell to get where she's at now. Probably doesn't act like it though." He chuckles to the thought of her general attitude.
"..Is that why you're here? Cause she told you about some redheaded creep staring at her weird during the briefing? I know I was creepy, I didn't mean to be. She just looks so damn young, and them telling me to just let her possibly get hurt? That's insane! She should be in school, not piloting war-machines for shits and giggles! If it was my daughter, she wouldn't be doing that! I mean, Ana's seven, but.. Still! Madison only looks like she's.. I dunno, 15? 16?"
Duncan burst out laughing to which Percy shot a look of confusion, "She told you all that story! God, she's a crack up." Duncan turned to Percy and let the tone of his voice drop down to a more casual level, "Madison never joined for the the fun of it. She joined because her original colony was wiped out over 17 years ago from an NC raid. We found her wandering the wasteland alone and I was asked to take her under my wing. To be perfectly honest I don't know her actual age, but it's somewhere above the 20 mark."
Percy had a hand covering his mouth - he was in shock. "I didn't know that. How is she able to stay so.. Upbeat? I'd be devastated to lose my whole home colony. Is she by herself? Is she alright?"
"Who knows? She doesn't have much of a memory about her younger years with her parents. So it's not like she joined out of some quest for revenge. I mean, how can you want revenge for something you can't remember?" Duncan looked down at his cup, noticing that it was beginning to run low, "She's doing this so that no other families fall apart from the misuse of NC machines."
Percy was silent for a while. He wasn't sure what to say until thinking maybe he ought to give his back story. It only felt fair. "I've lost people too. Not to NCs, but to other things. Parents didn't get medicine for their illnesses, wife.. My wife died in a mechanical accident, over by the western warehouse."
Duncan looked at Percy with a curious look, remembering that in his younger years he worked at that warehouse and knew a few of the people that lost their lives over his time there, "That's rough and I'm truly sorry to hear, but if you don't mind me asking, who would your wife be..?"
Percy was a little taken aback by the question. "Laura. Laura Moore.. Well, I mean, h-her last name was White before she married me, but after marrying me, she changed her last name to Moore. Cause that's how marriage was in.. I don't know, early 2000s? She insisted on it, so I didn't stop her."
"I do remember Laura, sweet girl. She took some time off just after she got pregnant and returned back to work for a couple of weeks before the accident."
Percy could feel some tears finally deciding to roll down his face. "I told her not to go to work that day. I told her I had a bad feeling about it. She said I was just being paranoid like I always am, that we needed the money, that if she didn't go, we wouldn't be able to get Ana the things she needed. I told. her." Percy bit his lip. He's lost it. There's no stopping the grief now. "And then I sign up for something just as fucking dangerous, if not more so. For the money! Let's just make the same damned mistake my wife did! Let's just FUCK my daughter out of having any SEMBLANCE of a family, put her in the care of this SHIT government, probably get her put with some CRIMINAL, or let her be HOMELESS, or DEAD. Yeah, let's just do that, Percy!" He's so angry at himself and the situation. It was both kind of frightening and pitiful.
Duncan could see the frustration and anger radiating from Percy as he worried about his daughter. He looked down at his empty cup before slowly standing up, "Truth is, all the workers over at the factory got fired several years ago. Funds dried up, supplies and materials became harder to find. In the end, most of the warehouses round the area ended up shutting up shop. It pretty much leads me back to my original point, Is it better to take the easy road or is the road less travelled sometimes better? That's how I ended up with my job here. It was the only thing available for an ex-engineer."
Percy was silent as he mulled it over. On one hand, the easy route - in this case, being an engineer - might have been secure, sure, but.. his wife died doing that. Sure, it's unlikely that will happen again, but.. Still. On the other hand - being a pilot - he was much more likely to die in the field, but.. there was that 98% success rate the captain had predicted.. And the sum of money was so much more. If he was honest with himself, with Smith's Rest having no military force, it placed the town in the same risk category as Madison's colony. By default, that meant his daughter would be in more danger if he took the easy way out.
Percy wipes his face with his sleeve, and he smiles at Duncan.
Time passed, Duncan and Percy had a private conversation, but when the four hours came up, everyone was seated into their NC's and ready to go. With the neural connection came the strange feeling of having two bodies at once, one inside the other. As well, connecting into a different NC after using another was often times uncomfortable, even painful. It was like having your skin replaced, carefully, but it was still a very awkward and painful feeling.
However, they could feel what the NC was feeling. A Heads-Up-Display was naturally in their vision when something was to be addressed, fading in and out of existence when needed. They could maneuver their fingers, and the NC's hand did the same motions, if it had a hand. Weapons, activating them was like pulling a trigger, ones on the back or other places having additional faux-hands the pilot could manipulate to actually fire them. Of course, the 'hand' was really just the actual, mechanical trigger, but it did feel like a hand.
If you wanted to fly, you could just think you wanted to and you would. Of course, a mental 'confirm' was needed, but that could be done in attoseconds. NC's really were a marvel of engineering and neuroscience. If only such advanced technologies were used for something more productive...
"Exit the Hangar.", the captain could be heard, speaking into everyones' ears. Well, that was how a comms-link felt. Of course, a radio actually received it normally and told the neural computer it did, and the neural computer connected to the neural plug and messed with the brain in such a way to get a perfect recreation of what was heard directly into their mind.
The doors would open, and each pilot would move their NC's towards their own door, one through five. "Initiate long range cruise modes. Blur, pick up Mad-E and help ferry her to the beacon." With that, a faint, red orb could be seen in the distance in every NC pilots' view, how they saw a beacon in the field.
Blur picked up the Mad-E, it having the most powerful thrusters of the quintet did make it the most obvious choice for a ferrying unit. It didn't do wonders for fuel efficiency, but they'd never have to worry about that on the field. The squad, having no official name, flew across the sky for what felt like a small eternity, but was truly just 3/4ths of an hour or so. Even being slowed down by needing to carry one of its members', a squad of NC's in long-range cruise mode were pretty damn fast. Of course, that was mainly because all available power was put into the engines, and it took a few moments for them to get back into 'combat mode'.
In any case, they eventually arrived at the perimeter of the beacon, a few kilometers away from the site itself. Here, they were ordered to enter combat mode, and "Follow the plan. Remember, no matter what, you're all in NC's. You can handle whatever comes at you. Swarm, Blur, commence the breach."
The door that was to be opened was a large one, about the same size, but still notably bigger compared to the ones they came out of earlier. Snow was everywhere, a massive field of white surrounded the entrance, built into a hill.
"Entering total radio silence to initiate wireless hack." Joe reported to the base-station and his teammates, and then disabled all EM-transmitters, while leaving the recievers online. He initiated a full scan of the entire recievable spectrum to check whether a wireless access-point, if one existed, announced its existance.
Thankfully, one did, with minimal struggle. It appeared to be 'public' and able to be accessed easily.
As the scan quickly turned up one, Joe quickly checked the SSID transmitted by the access-point's broadcast whether or not it belonged to the door(or even to the base), and if the connection was encrypted or not.
The SSID did belong to the door, and it appeared to have relatively simplistic encryption.
Joe quickly checked if the NC's computer contained some software to break such a simple encryption. The fact that the encryption was so lightly for a self-announcing wireless access-point in a military base surprised him a littlebit, and made him somewhat suspicious on whether or not this was a honeypot, a fake access-point to reroute a hacker to where he cannot do any damage.
All NC's had basic hacking tools installed for this sort of duty. Definitely nothing major, but it often opened avenues. Or, in this case, doors. As Joe was quite obviously the team's hacker due to his backstory, his NC's hacking software had a few improvements as well, compared to the others'.
Joe just let it run on that access-point. As the base's personell stopped responding either way, the hack wouldn't really increase any danger. Once he was connected he checked what systems were connected to the wireless transmitter and connected to the one that he thought was controlling the door. The help-manual of the door-controlling system really helped get a hang of the details of the controls allowing him to pretty much open the door with 1 console command transmitted wirelessly. He disconnected after the door started moving, and ended his radio silence. "As you can see, I did my magic here." Joe commented on his success over the radio.
The hallway that revealed itself as the door open was suspiciously damaged, and Joe's view would have had a HUD added to it, if he didn't modify his interface. He would get a notification, in any case. "Abnormal Radioactivity detected. Ally WESSEX in danger if damaged."
"Ok guys, we got increased radiation in there, Wessex, make sure your cockpit is pretty much airtight, or the radioactive materials might get in. You should all keep in mind though, being exposed to ionizing radiation(the ones emitted by radioactive materials as well) is different from being exposed to radioactive materials."
Jingo would get a notifaction from his NC, confirming it. If he was damaged too much, he would likely get irradiated. That was never good!
Once again Eli was failed by the second-hand information she was given, and when the experience that came with fully syncing with the NC kicked in, everything was, for a moment, overwhelming. She didn't feel like herself, she felt bigger. Not exactly taller, or heavier, but her presence as a whole felt enlarged. All the the minute yet countless processes the NC went through merely to remain balanced and standing flooded her mind, replacing her thoughts with equations and astronomical feats of engineering. Then at the end of a moment, she got the reigns back, and sat --or rather now, stood-- in silence. Her hands moved without explicit command, her fingers clenched and her legs moved with ease. It took a minute for her to settle into the second skin, but when she did the NC felt closer than anything she'd ever worn before.
She wasn't sure how she felt about the HUD though. While everything else felt second-nature, the way her vision had changed felt distinctly mechanical. Was is practical? Yes. Was it invaluable on the battlefield? Yes. Did it send a chill up her spine every time a tiny mechanical sound accompanied the movement of her eyes? Yes.
Once Blur had left the hanger, her attention turned to cannon-laden NC called Mad-E. Huh, "Mad-E". At least it would be simple to remember. She made her way over and hooked her arms beneath the other NC's, before standing back up. Or trying to, anyway. Without the aid of the thrusters, Blur's light weight became evident, and within her cockpit Eli would feel the strain of her futile attempt on her arms.
Flight systems, let's go
Nothing happened.
Flight systems
Upon the insistent confirmation, the multiple engine's in Blur's frame revved to life. That was a feeling she had no frame of reference for. Nothing felt so alien as activating a part of yourself you didn't know you had. However while she was unprepared for the sensation, training had made her ready for the application. She rose into the air, Mad-E in her hold, and felt the strain ease away. Before long they were off, making progress towards the beacon blinking artificially in her vision. For a moment she opened communications with the other girl, intending to request that she not move on the trip.
"Try to avoid mov--" and as quickly as she'd opened the link she closed it. The overflow of noise coming from the other girl's end was nearly deafening, and Blur stuttered in the air as inside Eli jolted in her seat. Never mind, Madison probably got the idea anyway.
-
When they finally reached their destination, Blur was quick to set Mad-E down before landing herself. The feel of the engines whirring slowly died down, which she was happy for. Interesting as the new feeling had been, she preferred to get used to all of the things she normally felt before throwing in new ones.
While she did, Joe, piloting the veritable one-man-artillery NC, approached the entrance and did his work to open it. Over the comms they were told the Wessex --which must have been Jingo-- would be in danger should he take damage. Remembering what the captain had told them back at base, it likely meant he would be accompanying her into the barracks. It wasn't ideal, things would be tough enough if she had to defend civilians without having to worry about her frail teammate. But she'd make do, if Jingo was smart he'd stick close, and if he wasn't there wouldn't be much she could do about it. The mission came first, he would have to understand those priorities just as much as she did.
Blur started on into the facility, taking from the weapon slots on her lower back the handle of her beam sword. The other she knew was embedded into the hull of her left wrist, but she had more training with proper swords --or practice swords anyway-- and knew that if anything came up, that would be her best choice.
"Let's get going," she said, opening a channel with Jingo.
Just as some of them had stepped through the door, Joe quickly asked "Oh, one thing before we separate: Is it ok if I close the door behind us? We do not know the nature of the radioactive material, so it is best to keep it as contained as possible for the moment.", after almost having forgotten. "If you need to quickly get out and I am not available, blast through as a last resort. A hole is harder to close than an open door. Otherwise, wait there and keep in mind the radiation and the ground will interfere with our comms." With that, Joe headed for the central reactor, while also keeping a close eye on the geiger-counter. Too much radiation exposure wouldn't only hurt him, but a high dose has the potential to short electronics, rendering almost any device inoperable. As radioactive material had already leaked and at least partially gotten near the entrance of the base, sealing the reactor directly had a slightly lower priority than finding out the nature of the radioactive material, as the base's door already acted as a seal. If it was just radioactive gas, it was relatively easy to deal with(just let it escape into the atmosphere, if the amount is small enough, it will disperse and thus its effect will weaken to the point of being much smaller than the natural background radiation), airborn dust was much harder, simply because it could be washed out of the air by rain, concentrating the material on the ground. Liquids and solids were similarly difficult to deal with.
Blur quickly trotted along into the barracks and miscellaneous areas, directly forwards. Right before she reached a fine line, immediately before an internal, automatic door, it opened. But, obviously, not for her.
The door was split in two vertically from the other side as it opened, the other person quite impatient, obviously. A communications link was also opened by the other individual.
Blur came to a halt almost as soon as the door began to move, and when it fell away in pieces she took a step back. Her free hand extended to the side, trying to provide reflexive cover for Wessex while keeping the blade unignited in her hand. She’d been taught to fight wisely, and sparingly, not to attack unless she meant to kill. When the time was right, or even necessary, she’d draw. Until then, she had a comm to listen to.
”This is Blur of the Smith’s Rest NC unit, state your identity,” she snapped, her voice cold and dutiful.
”Ah, yes.”, an eastern-accented man spoke on the channel, being overheard by the other members of the unit. ”I do not believe you are in the position to make demands, such as that. While a fight would amuse me, I’m afraid I got what I wanted myself, and it would be needless. Care to let me pass, or do I need to cut through you, too?”
The NC revealed itself, a slightly larger, black design, definately Red-star in origin, but heavily modified. It brought to mind a samurai, with its’ segmented armor, and its’ large curved sword. However, it did have a large round shield, a bit oval shaped to help protect its’ own legs better.
It brandished its’ own blade, a physical heat-based sword. It was still halfway in its’ sheathe, however. While Blur isn’t sure why, she could just feel it had something else up its’ sleeve as well.
She listened carefully, but was not fazed by the other’s threat. It would have been foolish to assume superiority, not knowing what the man was capable of, but he didn’t seem to have that layer of caution. She scanned him over, taking in the design of the NC as well as the armaments. The shield would prove an issue, but if it had to split its attention between offense and defense, she could abuse that, granted she was fast enough.
”State your identity,” she said again, taking a step forward. ”This will be the last time I ask.”
Blur silenced her end of the comm line momentarily, pulling up Jingo. ”If this goes sour, I want you to run past and see if there are survivors further in. I’ll hold his attention.”
With that she brought back up the Red-Star commline. She debated her next words, knowing that if they weren’t chosen carefully she could have a quick and brutal fight thrust upon her. But she didn’t have time to offer courtesy to the man. Instead she remained quiet, and waited, fingers clenched tighter around the blade’s handle.
He seemed to think to himself, and his NC apparently mimicked his movements perfectly, its’ own hand going to its’ ‘chin’. ”Hmmmm… What’s the word in your language? That chess-piece. The one that moves diagonally?”, his voice, would be fitting of an experienced swordsman. Haughty as well, but a certain nobility to it, if only a little.
What a strange question.
The NC snapped its’ fingers. A metallic snap, what an interesting noise. ”Bishop. I am… Bishop.”
Eli clicked her tongue, rolling the word around in her mouth. She didn’t have extensive experience with chess, but she was familiar enough with it. A good strategy game for sure, and she couldn’t help but wonder if knowledge of it might help one as a pilot.
She supposed she would find out. ”You said you would cut through me too. Who else has been here?” she asked, quick to carry on. If the man was not eager to attack, she wasn’t about to strike first.
”Have you ever attacked a person with an NC grade weapon? It’s a darkly humorous sight. All’s left is a pink mist, most of the time. Their corpses litter this area, if you looked.”
No sooner did Bishop finish talking did the blade of Blur’s sword ignite. Had there been any doubts before, they were gone, and while perhaps she wouldn’t strike first Eli was certain she would be fighting the man. She raised the blade up, leveling it with Bishop’s head. Nothing was said over the comms, and if he checked, he would see the line had been cut.
Bishop spoke to himself, mainly. “What a shame.”. The NC activated its’ own sword, the heat making a fine haze around the blade. The well-made tungsten forming the blade was effectively impervious to it. However, the NC didn’t attack just yet, it activated its’ boosters and pointed them forwards, making it do a quick slide backwards.
”Guests have arrived, Rook.”, Bishop spoke to a compatriot of his at another area in the facility.
Another voice replied, a certain artificialness to it, but still not robotic. Oddly peppy. “Company? I love guests! We’ll give them a fun time, wouldn’t you say?” From the NC hangar, a series of very loud footsteps could be heard by any NC that was already inside, or the ones with more advanced sensors. Namely, Blur and Wessex. The bulkhead separating the NC hangar and the entrance-hub had a massive hole cut through it by some sort of NC-sized torch.
Rook revealed itself, a very bulky, armored unit with a short-range melee torch on its’ left gauntlet, and its’ back and right arm holding an artillery cannon each. It set up a killzone right behind Blur, likely not being noticed by her. Anyone that entered would be pulverized if they didn’t notice him in time, the shells would likely be relatively slow, but very explosive.
”Firing line set, you kick her ass, Bishop.”
”A-all units, we have one confirmed hostile NC, possibly more, inside the facility. Support Blur, she’s fighting a professional. I have no information on the specifics, but it looks to be that way. Weapons free!”, The Captain noted in everyone's’ ears directly. Dammit, that 2% just bit everyone in the ass!
Percy had actually decided to move in a bit after he heard Bishop - as quietly as he's able to be in a large mech, at least - to support Eli if need be. When he came to the T-intersection, he quickly checked his radar for any blips. A bit to his left, he detected one very quickly.
He reacted by completely turning to the left and raising his rifle, ready to fire at whoever might be trying to jump him. His trigger finger itched and he might have accidentally shot off a single round. He winced when he heard the bang. He just messed up and possibly ruined whatever stealth he had.
Rook, when the round impacted, seemed to laugh at the single rifle round to the chest, commonly the most armored portion of an NC. He prepared his right arms' artillery, and took aim himself at the interloper. "Hahahahah, easy pickings," he laughed to himself.
Shit, shit, shit! He goes to dodge to the right in the hopes he doesn't get decimated by that artillery. The huge shell flew right past behind him, careening off to the wall far behind where Joe Verona was. Apparently, (and thankfully), Rook seemingly doesn't notice Verona even exists. Perhaps his NC is having optical malfunctions after a certain point?
Percy decided he ought to retaliate after nearly getting blown into smithereens, so he did. He fired a good 15 rounds at Rook, aiming for his head.. like that would actually work, somehow.
Rook tanked the first few hits, but suddenly its head unit caught fire as the sustained burst ended! "What the fuck? Not again!".
Percy actually laughed a little. He did not think he would've hit Rook that bad. It made him feel so much more at ease.. Not less alert, but more confident. He's gonna do this and live, damn it. He goes in for the kill - or, more accurately, the disabling - of Rook.
He takes another ten shots at Rook's right leg. As Rook was a very well-armored machine, the medium-caliber (for an NC weapon) bullets didn't do much aside from annoy the pilot as he switched to the emergency sensors situated around his hull. The unit activated its' array of thrusters and flew backwards, further into the hangar proper, knocking over a few large containers as it went over them. They jumbled into a pile, blocking the path just a little.
When Percy realizes he's not doing jack all to disable Rook's movement, he decides to go straight for him. With an artillery like that, he can't let this guy get off easy. A well placed shot from that artillery could really mess up some of the other's mechs.. Including his own, but he's not thinking that consciously. He went to hop over the crates, but his thrusters fritzed out, tripping him.
Rook re-oriented himself. He was open for an attack, in both senses. One last well executed assault would, at least, disable him proper so he can be finished off. Yet, there Percy was, in front of him, pathetically easy for his over-sized grenades to turn him into a molten crater. He went to reload his arm-cannons' shell...
Percy could tell his NC was locking up on him. Shit, no, don't do this, not right now! He did manage to get up, but he panicked and he actually started to flee - just in case the damn NC locked up so bad he couldn't do anything. At the very least, he might be out of Rook's effective range long enough to get his NC to respond again.
He just had to pick the plain one, didn't he? Percy's aggrivation actually made him cry out to the captain, "So much for the 98% success rate!"
The captain yelled an order, quickly and with utmost efficiency, specifically for Madison. "Mad-E, left, attack now! Fire everything!"
Duncan sat within the home base control room where the Captain was overseeing the mission. The room was of a decent size with a couple important members of staff huddled around a few computer terminals reading the data that was being fed in by the away team. Duncan had his laptop that contained a direct line to Madison's NC as well as details on her current status, including power, ammo supplies and general vitalities.
"So I spoke to Percy. He really does mean well and turns out that I worked with his ex-wife about 10 years ago. Nice lady, fairly good looker if I remember correctly." He sat there speaking into his ear piece as he glanced over at the captain to see her talking to one of her members of staff.
A voice came through the intercom with the sound of music playing in the background. A response with a sarcastic tone from fresh batch of knowledge, "Ex? Ha! Why? Did she leave him because he's a damn creep."
The captain turned towards Duncan after hearing the disruptive noise coming from his laptop, "She died several years ago just after the birth of their daughter."
A long silence would have been heard if it wasn't for the sound of a regular beat coming through the laptop speakers. In the end a short responce came in before the transmission cut itself out. "I'll watch out for him."
Madison Cole
Madison sat in her cockpit with a slightly reclined position. In front of her was a 3D projection of what would be visible in front of her if she wasn't surrounded by inches of metal and steel. Her feet rested on two rocking pedals that controlled the NC's leg movements. Much like the movement of a tank, pushing both would command the unit to walk forward while one would cause it to turn in the desired direction. The twin handlebars that she held onto, with it's array of buttons, would control more of the upper movement and certain weaponry. Using these controls she stepped outside the hanger and awaited for Blur to pick her up. Gently they ascended and began to travel towards their destination.
An image of Eli materialised for a moment on Madi's dash and spoke out, "Try to avoid mov--", the transmission cut with a jolt that felt like the Mad-e was about the be dropped.
"Jesus, I don't wanna become a pancake on the first day!"
A second image appeared with Duncan this time round, "What do you think of the Mad-e?"
"It's freaking AWESOME!", replying back in an upbeat tone. "Feels like I'm riding some decked out chopper."
Duncan chuckled for a moment before continuing,"So you probably noticed by now that the brain mapping sensitivity has been reduced. Sadly it means that some controls will need a bit more of a manual input, which isn't a bad thing, but it allows you to focus more on your auxiliaries like targeting, data control and communications. You'll still have some neural connections to your individual movements, giving the NC the ability to predict your decisions. These however won't activate until you give the desired input..." He continued on for a bit, discussing the various features and benefits that they fitted to the NC before bringing up the topic of Percy.
Madison ended her conversation and closed off the transmission. As she went about tapping the control panel next to her, bringing up sub systems and user data she thought about Percy's situation and how his death could leave a child without a father. Something she wasn't comfortable with given her past experiences after her home colony's extermination.
When they landed the away team moved into the facility and seal the door behind them shut. Blur, Wessex and Swarm moved on ahead while Mad-e and Papa Mike turned towards the NC hanger. It wasn't long before the trio had met up with another NC who came across as somewhat hostile.
"Hmmmm… What’s the word in your language? That chess-piece. The one that moves diagonally? Bishop. I am… Bishop."
"Computer, can I get a definition on 'Bishop'." Madi spoke as she listened in on the conversation between Blur and Bishop. She wondered exactly what this Bishop was as she hadn't spent the most amount of time studying a chessboard. She was told it was good for logic training but never saw the appeal of a static board with cut out figurines on it.
> Bishop > Definition: The bishop is a chess piece that resides in the 3rd and 6th column on a chess board. Between these two pieces resides the members of royalty, the Queen and the King.
A small pictorial image of a chessboard rotated itself in front of Madi's view with the highlighted pieces in question. She looked at the board noting the layout and design as the pieces digitally moved around, showing off their allowed directions. To her it seemed like a rather unusual name.
"Forward said information onto Duncan along with any mental notes."
The sound of shots being fired echoed throughout the cockpit as the information on the screen vanished, revealing the world before her. She had been too engrossed in the gathering of useless information that she let the ball drop on the situation at hand. She saw Percy dart past, attempting to reload his cannon as a voice sounded across the airways from the Captain, "Mad-E, left, attack now! Fire everything!"
"Got it!" she replied, swinging the controls in opposite directions and slamming her feet onto the pedals. Her NC automatically cycled through the weapons and mapped them to the corresponding buttons as she pressed her thumbs on the ends of the handles. The auto cannon roared to life spewing out as she swung around, leaving a trail of destruction as it began to line up with the target named Rook. As soon as she could Madi fired off her first slug, seeing the wall behind him explode in a shower of concrete and debris. The dust scattered over the target making it somewhat difficult so see, she switched her camera to it's IR setting and re-targetted for a second shot. The slug fired and she watched on the screen as the enemy unit stumbled from the hit.
"Ha! Did you see that?!" she blurted out over the intercom as she continued to prepare for a third shot, "Freaking bullseye, and right in the noggin!"
As the explosive shell fired by 'Rook' impacted the wall next to the Swarm, Joe was a littlebit shocked, he for some reason missed the fighting going on behind him, so he turned around to see what was going on, and promptly spotted Papa Mike 'fighting' a heavily armored artillery NC. "Stay clear of the hallway, Mike.", he jokingly said to Percy, while aiming the infrared aiming-laser of the swarm's missiles directly at the enemy NC. He then hit the virtual button to fire ALL the missiles. 6 of them slammed into the walls as the hallway was a littlebit tight.
In seconds, the entire hallway was full of exhaust plumes and fast, explosive pieces of metal as they flew over and beside the Papa Mike, and Mad-E to attack Rook. The missiles impacted Rook directly, some on the arms, few on the legs, but most of them centered on the chest; and the cockpit. As the barrage ended, the missiles apparently hit a fuel tank and the chest compartment exploded, blowing off its left arm, and what was left of its head.
The hulk of metal that was 'Rook' fell down to one knee, then fell over completely. After a moment, Percy and Joe could tell something was up. Soon afterwards, Rook exploded again, centered on the ammo magazines, blowing Papa Mike away by the huge blast. Thankfully, the P.M. was still in one piece. Little, if anything, was left of Rook, aside from a smoking crater and a ruined hangar-bay.
The captain theorized quietly, being overheard by the squad. "Dead-man's switch? Good kill, Mad-E, Swarm. Recuperate, then finish off Bishop."
Percy felt like he ought to ask, but considering the small amounts of debris and no human remains in sight, Rook was dead. He honestly felt sickened and almost guilty. They just killed somebody. He only thought this briefly, however, because there's a whole other person to worry about.. Maybe they can just scare them off this time. He stood up from his previously blowing-away, and quickly made sure that everything worked again. It did. He's totally operational.
Jingo didn't hesitate, he was told to run when he was in trouble and as he saw it, it seemed to be a good idea. He charged forwards, sprinting hard at Bishop and opening fire in attempt to distract the black NC. Jingo knew that if he went anywhere near that heat blade he'd be killed, the thought unnerved him but he quickly pushed it to the back of his brain as he neared. He veered left, towards the wall, and planted Wessex's left foot onto it, he pushed up with his piston knee sending him sailing over head of Bishop. For the brief moment he was in the air above the black NC, he trained his dual anti-aircraft guns at the top of the enemy machine and sent a hailstorm of 1.5mm rounds onto Bishop's head and shoulders. Jingo landed with a resounding thump behind Bishop, his engines practically screaming, he was thankful for the open coolest hub in the cockpit, otherwise his body would have cooked alive within the enclosed metal space.
He spent little time dilly-dallying behind the imposing Bishop, he sprinted, trying to get as far away from him and rook as possible, from behind he heard gunfire, auto rifles and cannons and explosions clashing against metal with resounding pops and bangs. Though he was a machine, an odd sense of being tired came over him, his legs ached from where meters measured the friction in his joints, his heart beat painfully as his engine temperature gradually rose and started letting off more burning energy, he felt like he was having a heart attack, except he wasn't.
Jingo ducked around a corner and slowed down, taking time to catch his... Oxygen intake? his sprint turing into a jog and his jog turned into a walk. The facility was surprisingly clean, well was, Jingo was tracking mud from the outside as he walked. He switched on his R.E.D. and felt a cold wave envelope him, sounds from the outside became distant and muted as his vision went blue. Slowly, white sound blips started to appear in his vision, his computers went to work and started tagging them, he looked around hallway and he picked up more vibrations; the computer labelled them things like, 'Air Compressor', 'Fluid Pump' and in the distance he could make out 'Friendly' and 'Burning', he wondered what was burning, it was either Rook or Bishop. Jingo mentally saved the scan and emerged from his sleep.
He woke up gasping, his own frosty breath escaping his lips when he did. He was covered in a thin layer of frost, his sweat having seeped through his thermals and frozen, he patted himself off and turned to the dashboard to his left, he flicked on his high gain transmitter and an antenna popped out of the top of the Wessex, pointing at the direction of base, he transmitted the scan to the captain for further analysis.
"Scans of the facility ma'am, I'm nee sure whot I'm looking for, so intel would be very helpful, Wessex out." Jingo slipped back into the NC controls and closed eyes, he opened them to the still working scan and continued walking. He was sure that his partners could handle the enemies, but him alone if he came across one, the outcome was dubious.
True to expectations, Bishop attacked first soon after Blur ignited her sword. He went for a simple stab to the most dangerous part, Blur's own arm, in a well-executed attempt to cut it off. However, if this didn't connect, his shield wasn't up fully. A perfect opportunity for a counter, and a riposte.
From the blade's design, Blur expected a slash rather than a stab, and by the time she realized it there was little time to properly block. Instead, a quick mental-check brought her thrusters online, and this time she paid no mind to the foreign feel. She darted from Bishop's path and brought her own blade up diagonally for the other NC's chest. Perhaps not the cleanest follow-up, but it was good to set a pace in swordplay so that if the opponent slipped out of it they could be quickly and severely punished.
Bishop backstepped quickly, assisted by his own thrusters. "Hmph, amateur.", he would speak, mainly to himself. "Would've been far simpler to just parry my sword and go for the jugular, then..."
Almost to taunt, Bishop then waved his sword around and did a faux-spitting motion with his NC's head. What a dick. Afterwards, he put his shield to his back and two-handed his heatblade. " Although... has a certain passion. Cute.", Bishop noted.
Blur backed up when Bishop moved again, preparing for another attack. But just as quickly as the pace had been set, it had been broken. Her opponent took a moment to do...something with the upper part of his NC, but then he did something she didn't expect. He set the shield away.
Her NC hunched slightly, as though preparing to pounce, and a low growl rumbled in the base of Eli's throat. "Mistake..."
From above her left wrist the second energy blade ignited, and without a second beat she launched forward, aiming an opening slash with the second sword. His strikes might carry more power behind them, but if she could just set a quick pace and keep him from disengaging she might have a chance.
Bishop made her furious, apparently, and took his bait. Just as planned. Just before the energy blade of hers pierced the armor fully, he bluntly, and simply kicked her back. Then went for a slash across the frontal armor, intending to open her cockpit to the radiation. What a dick!
She was flying back before she knew what was happening, and while Bishop was charging for his follow up her attention was more on stopping herself from falling to the ground. If the blade got near the pilotseat, the impact would likely kill her before the radiation, and there was little hope of blocking a full swing. There wasn't time to think, or plan, so instead she just reacted.
Blur fell flat on the ground, and could only hope she was out of the way of Bishop's slash. If she survived the next few seconds, her next move was a thrust-aided leg-sweep aimed at Bishop's feet.
As Blur went to move in, explosions were heard behind them, as well as other sounds of combat. Bishop paid no heed himself, expecting that Rook handled any other assailants, of course, the opposite was true. He didn't know that just yet. Blur made a good, if not perfect choice and bought herself some time, Bishop was swept off his feet and took some time and attention to quickly right himself in the air, but Blur had a perfect opening.
It wasn't ideal, she was still on the ground, but the space she'd been given was a relief. It had been a bad idea to try and go toe-to-toe with Bishop, he was a superior and well-trained swordsman, even if she wouldn't admit it.
Then again, there was a saying about bringing knives to gunfights.
Blur whipped the NC-grade shotgun from the weapon slot on her back. It might not have been fast enough to catch him mid-air, but damned if the draw wasn't quick nonetheless. She didn't have to take aim into much account, they were in an enclosed corridor, but still she tried to fire low. Bishop had taken something, he'd said it himself, and in addition to just being an enemy pilot with possible information, whatever he had could have been valuable.
Bishop's legs gave out, fritzing, and small fuel tanks inside igniting. It continued to stand for a few seconds, but very suddenly, and very quickly, a small unit, the Wessex, jumped from behind Blur, over Bishop, and finished it off with a barrage of bullets to the head from above, then continued running down the corridor. The pilot had a few scant seconds to say his final words. "S-serves me right, not taking it seriously. Doomed to obscurity, forev-", before his own NC's dead-mans' switch finished him off. As he didn't have much ammo to cook off, there were actually still salvageable items, mainly small bits and pieces of armor, yet no computer or other actually useful bits. The broken frame of Bishop crumbled to the ground in rough, skeletal pieces.
Though the explosion wasn't massive, Blur shielded her chest anyway. When the dust had settled she got back to her feet and placed the shotgun away once more. A good chunk of Bishop was still intact, which was a relief, but she had little doubt that the pilot was anywhere alive amongst the wreckage.
Likely a pink mist, as it were.
"Anything else around?" she asked over the comms, this time more to her teammates than homebase. If the second NC had slipped under the radar, their best bet was what they could see first-hand. Still, she doubted there were others, or they would have come out to assist their allies. So she made her way over to the smoldering remains of Bishop, scanning it over for signs of anything interesting. If she couldn't spot it, it was more likely Wessex could.
Fate smiled upon the Smith's Rest unit, and the two most interesting pieces of Bishop were more or less intact, although they needed sifting through the rubble thoroughly. The heat-blade, disconnected from an energy socket, was cooling down slowly underneath what used to be one of Bishops' arms. Of course, it was blown in twain by one of the pieces of shrapnel and was likely dangerous to handle, but it could be saved, in theory. The NC's shield, being designed for that, fared much better, although with scratches and a dent.
The Captain spoke in everyones' ears again. "We're getting two confirmations, one from you guys and one from Fairbanks. They called in for information on how the OP was doing, impatient bastards... anyway, with how damaged the outpost is, they're giving us salvaging rights as long as we do another freebie in a few days or so. Week at most. As well, confirmation that the two detected hostiles are destroyed. All's left is finding the reactor and shutting it down.
Just after that, with a hint positive emotion in her voice, "Good job, everyone. Finish up and come home, we'll send out a few salvage teams."
That went remarkably well, for a first mission that had a speed-bump. Now, all that's left is to turn the reactor safety on and go home. Joe was handling that, or about to handle, right after Rook was confirmed dead.
Seeing as his missiles obliterated the NC Percy was 'fighting', Joe just turned around and proceeded to go towards the reactor. Slowly but steadily radiation levels increased, and reached the point at which they cause random glitches in the most sensitive electronics, mostly sensors. At this point he was close to the reactor though. He didn't expect software hacking to work, as even the lowest security levels for reactor controls prefer a standalone system, a.k.a a system not connected to any other system and not featuring any wireless access. Sensor data might be transmitted through a separate system connected to the sensors only, but that still prevented anyone from hijacking the reactor without being physically present at the control switches. In order to shut this reactor down, Joe'd have to leave the Swarm's cockpit, which would expose him to a most likely fatal dose of radiation at this point. Secondly, since the reactor had failed, there was no guarantee the control systems could still be used to control anything. Then he had an idea: Most commonly used reactors are controlled using control rods; rods made from a material which absorbs neutrons, slowing down or halting the nuclear reaction within the reactor. If he could somehow manually reinsert all the control rods fully into the reactor, it should shut down. If that doesn't do it, it was impossible to stop the reaction at this point, as the core had fully melted. As he got even closer to the reactor, he could see doors having been blown off their frames by some kind of shockwave, the radiation within his cockpit steadily increased to dangerous levels. His NC's sensors and recievers were already disturbed sufficiently by the radiation to make understanding any comms impossible. The camera's were doing only slightly better, but at least their images were clear enough to see some contrasts. Joe then stepped into the hall containing the reactor. Thankfully, the core was submerged in water, but the pressurized container containing it and the control rods had completely burst, and only the secondary pool was intact enough to contain water, although even it had several bumps and even holes in the upper parts. The exposed core caused the surrounding water to emit a blue light, as extremely fast electrons were slowed down by the currently boiling water. The upper 6th of the fuel rods of the core had partially melted at some point in time before though, exposing the blank fuel. The lid supposed to seal the pool while the reactor is under operation was nowhere to be found, it was probably completely shattered by the burst of the pressurized container. As he looked he noticed a rather unusual structure on the side of the pool, a few centimeter's above the core's top. At closer inspection it turned out to be some kind of refill mechanism, as water was constantly flowing into the pool from it. It was not a standard measure though, which concerned Joe, however at the moment it was the core's only source of coolant, keeping it from melting. It suddenly dawned on Joe what happened here. For some reason, either intentional manipulation or a technical failure, the water within the pressurized container was no longer exchanged, causing it to heat up beyond limits and evaporate. The increased pressure was too much for the container, which lacked a failsafe valve, causing it to burst. Before that, the top of the fuel rods must've not been submerged though, causing them to partially melt. As the container burst, it sent its own fragments into the pool and lid, obliterating the latter into unrecognizability. The accompanying shockwave did the reast of the damage and probably also spread the radioactive dust of the molten fuel rod-tips around. After the burst, the water that was left in the pool, alongside the refill submerged the core again, cooling it down again and stopping the melting. Joe did not know whether or not his teammates were able to endure this sight while having this knowledge without breaking down.
Time was on the run though, so Joe had to quickly find a way to lower the control rods into the core and get out before the damage of the radiation was too much for his body to handle. He couldn't go down there, even in his NC. The electronics would fail in that radiation. Against all odds due to the bad image of the cameras, he managed to find a sizable chunk of concrete, probably a fragment of the lid or some support column. He took it and threw it at the mounting of the control rods. He aimed carefully to hit it from the top as finding a similar chunk was unlikely, and he didn't want to topple the entire construct. Luckily it was a success, and the mounting, weakened by the bursting of the pressurized container it was in, gave in, causing the control rods to fall into the core. After confirming that, he ran for his life, as he did everything in his power to limit the effects. The rods would still produce a large amount of heat over a long period of time, but at least the remaining rather safe unused fuel wasn't turned into used fuel anymore, hopefully. As Joe returned to the entrance, his teammate's geiger-counters could tell, as increased amounts of radioactive dust had gotten on the Swarm's outer armor and hull, but at least the dose within the cockpit wasn't too dangerously high anymore. While he opened the main door of the base, he asked his teammates: "You should all take off before I do, who knows how much dust has settled in the turbines of the jet-engines of the Swarm, and I don't want to cover any of you in a cloud of radioactive dust." After everyone got out he closed them again, taking off as the last one. The Swarm would need to thorough cleaning after this mission, and Joe a medical check.
The squad, making sure no survivors were left, found only pink splatters and 'tiny' pieces of what at first appeared to be chunky salsa. Having found nothing else of immediate interest, they all went back outside and made sure to take their time to make certain that The Swarm would be relatively 'safe' when it got back to base. When they arrived, the Swarm was allowed in first and the engineers quickly began cleaning it thoroughly, putting anything suspicious in special, if jury-rigged canisters.
Joe was put into the medical ward to get a thorough scan while the rest were debriefed. They were led into the briefing room, with Bill and Alexandra being called in as well. The Captain looks extremely happy with how it all went, considering. "Due to the Pluggers' efforts, we'll likely be getting enough scrap that we can sell off for half of a million ICC, which is very, very far ahead of plan. As well, the actual useful components of the base can be used to prop up Smith's Rest, at least for a while. We can even re-use its' NC production hangar to bolster our own, and to help improve our industrial infrastructure on a civilian level. In essence, we got extremely lucky. Which, of course, I like. We also will likely see our standing in the world improve, the Ruling Companies are beginning to sell us parts, we received an additional contract offer, and we're currently preparing to negotiate with Volkov for one of their NC drop-ships.
"However... For obvious reasons, what enemies you did fight are severely worrying. Due to their tactics and Bishop's name, It's very likely they're part of a larger team. The rest, in theory Pawn, Knight, Queen, and King, will be angry with us. I consider it plausible, if not inevitable, that they'll be trying to hinder our efforts later on. This of course is not a complete failure on your parts', It's difficult to think of it this way but, perhaps a constant spanner in the works will make sure we're sharp."
"Finally, each of your personal quarters' has a console that can connect into the inter-corporate network. One of the few things the Ruling Companies ever agreed on, just a glorified shopping catalog to us right now. We'll be reserving a cut of the profits for you pilots, of course. If you so choose, you can order parts for your NC's and we'll install them how you wish. We'll know what you bought, and I'm sure we'll find a place to store it. After all, we did just get a bunch of extra space. Obviously, ammo won't be a concern to you, we'll handle that."
"Go to the barracks and use your free time I suppose, or check in on friends and family. We'll discuss our contract offers tomorrow, six A.M. sharp. Obviously, we'd highly prefer if you stayed here, but I suppose if you absolutely must sleep in your own home.. Just make absolutely certain you're not late. If so, you'll be 'fired' for leniency and the sacrifices we've made to get your NC will be in vain, so don't allow it.
"Dissmissed."
As the Squad likely turn around to get out, Bill and Alex are still extremely giddy at the mere mention of one of Volkov's 'Dropships'. They move out at the dismissed and discuss about operating one of those behemoths right outside. Of course, they do wonder where the hell they'd put it.
The squad sat there as their captain gave them a debriefing form their their relatively successful mission. If there was any concerns about the outcomes it was that Joe was sent off to the medical ward for a general check to see how much radiation he absorbed into his body, if any at all.
Madison sat there at the table listening intently to the speech and the proposal of buying possible upgrades, something that she was quite looking forward to. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Percy and noted that he had a different kinda look to him. He seem a little less worrying and she assumed it must have been from what Duncan and him talked about before the departure. Still, her lack of trust in people meant that she was still quite happy to keep her distance from the others, but at least she didn't feel like she was watching out for some creep.
The meeting ended with the Captain declaring everyone "Dismissed." and Madison left the Briefing room with the others, heading back to the barracks and finally towards her room. As she walked by each of the doors and glanced briefly at the plaques for her name, she eventually arrived at the door with the "Madison Cole" Tag. She reached into her pocket, fumbling around for a moment, and pulled out her key before entering the dwelling.
"I might do a quick order now before heading off for something to eat," she thought to herself, as she switched on the screen to the shopping console and sat down to look at some of the available options.
"YOU'VE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME!!!!!" she screamed out in shock, letting her jaw drop from seeing the range of items she was looking at, "I want it! I want it all! But the captain is gonna kill me if I get all this! Maybe one, I might be able to get one. She's not gonna know is she? Maybe she'll understand..." Closing her eyes slightly she tapped the screen to which it proudly displayed the confirmation message.
