TaintedMushroom

Falling Skies

---

Elliot Braide // ROOK

Ensign

---

Elliot winced in embarrassment as the squad chastened his eagerness and the blood rushed to his face in response. No matter, Elliot didn’t plan on making himself a fool on day 1, or any day for that matter. A little voice in his head reminded him that few planned such events but Elliot pretended not to hear anything as he focused on taking hold of the twin sticks that controlled the MAS. Elliot had a combined simulation and practical flight time of over a thousand hours but they always said nothing could prepare you for the real thing. Elliot couldn’t tell if the tremor making its way down his leg was from fear or excitement, and there was only one way to find out. Elliot pushed forward, aligning his MAS with the launch pad as the system locked him in and prepared for catapult.

Elliot’s eyes wandered until he was staring straight up towards the launch bay opening. Time had almost crawled to a standstill; it seemed as Elliots brain had begun racing. Everything Elliot had worked towards had led him to this moment, the moment he’d only dreamed of until now. It was here, seconds away. Elliot’s mind was seized up in a wave of Euphoria mere moments before the catapult released and sent him roaring forward at breakneck speeds. Elliot’s mouth flew open and a whooping holler of joy filled his ears as the Venerator shot from the launch bay narrowly missing the Blackout as it recovered from its evasive maneuvers. Elliot was briefly shocked out of his reverie and instinctively yanked on the controls to pivot away from the Blackout and the launch corridor.

"Welcome to the 7th, Rook. Get used to the chaos. It's all we ever do here." Hex called across as the Blackout made a cheeky salute.

Elliot was a bit taken aback for a moment and the handful of violations that his instructors had drilled into his head jumped to the forefront of his mind. Mr. Brok Would have had Elliot scrubbing the joints of the schools entire MAS contingent if he’d even dreamed of pulling a maneuver like that. Just as quickly as the thoughts came to mind Elliot shut them down, this was battle, the real deal. Elliot had no place to chasten his fellow squadmates on their flying, let alone in regards to evasive maneuvers. These weren’t the posh wimpy boys and girls Elliot had been forced to board with at the naval academy, these were tried and tested pilots. Elliot knew with each passing moment they were taking stock of him, trying to figure out what to make of his mettle. Elliot would do his best to not disappoint, he couldn’t dare look weak in front of his fellows.

”Thanks for the welcome and the shave, Hex. Been meaning to take a few inches off the top anyways. Glad to be part of the 7th!.” Elliot called back, attempting a smooth quip to show that he’d not almost pissed himself by the close call.

Alerts pinged across the hud and Elliot quickly began going on the defensive as he tried to get a handle on the battlefield composition. Elliot’s loadout wasn’t really specced for the distance they were at and judging by his fellows they were already prioritizing the protection of the Roanoke. Thus Elliot chose to direct his attention to the two destroyer’s in need of assistance. Elliot was still a good ways out from his effective combat range and thus engaged the Venerators boosters and swept out towards the allied destroyers.

Elliot pushed the Venerator towards the redline in an attempt to reach the allied destroyers before they or their retinue suffered too much more at the hands of coalie scum. Elliot’s arrival was swift and he took advantage of the coalies being focused on their current targets. Reducing speed enough to allow slight maneuverability Elliot quickly engaged the MAS’s rocket maul. Already systems were diverting energy to the head of the massive weapon as the penetrating spike energized as Elliot joined together the two halves of the haft to give the monstrous maul its full reach. Elliot was rapidly closing on a Fenrir who was wholly unaware of the destruction hurtling his way.

This was the moment when most would hesitate. Simulations never could prepare someone for the true depth of taking a life, for those who’d experienced this dreadful deed would say it was like trading a piece of your soul for each life taken. It was a hefty deed that would and should give pause to most. Elliot did it without a second thought, it was a coalie, nothing more. Elliot had already cared little for those he saw beneath him and didn’t even have a way to really measure what an enemy meant to him. The thought that he’d be ending human lives wasn’t really one that he’d ever really entertained, in fact Elliot wasn’t sure if he’d even call the Coalies human. Whether this coldness was a symptom of his upbringing or UEE indoctrination was hard to determine, but regardless Elliot spared no thought towards what would be his first kill.

Elliot appeared behind the coalie MAS at breakneck speeds, by the time the enemy MAS was alerted to his presence he’d already engaged the rocket maul in its deadly ark. Elliot pulled up hard at the last second as he swung the maul at an upward angle. The coalie MAS turned in surprise, attempting to face his newfound opponent before the heated point of the Maul penetrated the cockpit from beneath. The force of the blow carried through as the Venerator practically gutted the coalie MAS, entirely ripping the cockpit from center mass as the maul continued in its upward arc.

Of course Elliot’s move had been a tad high octane and left him with a lot of velocity to shave off, suddenly the focus of the kill melted away as Elliot rapidly found himself becoming the target for the remaining coalies harrying the destroyers. In a rush Elliot transferred his momentum into a set of evasive maneuvers that aimed to put him on the other side of the destroyers relative to his targets, either to give himself a moment to reorient or for potential backup to arrive. Elliot suddenly realized that he’d rushed off without ensuring he’d called for any sort of assistance and very well might have overextended himself out past the protective capabilities of his squad. Just as suddenly Elliot remembered the capabilities of Hex’s Blackout and quickly opened a line.

“This is Rook to Hex requesting cover if possible, I’ve overextended myself a bit here admittedly.” He called into the comms channel, trying to keep the embarrassment from his voice.

Symphony on High

Dead Head

”Ruh Roh Raggy”

---

It wouldn’t take a dumpster to get Dead Head’s attention but it might take a little more haste to keep it, the Esper was going practically berserk. The moment his current prey had melted away Dead Head’s head had been on a swivel searching for the next target. Strategically speaking the smart move was likely to find the source of the shadowy attacks and seek to silence it. Unfortunately Dead Head’s sense of strategy was on vacation at the moment and rage was in charge. With an almost feral look in his eyes he scanned the battlefield rapidly before settling his eyes on the golden haired girl from earlier.

That was the one that had initially confronted them, she also looked to be giving Raphael a bit of a hard time. Dead Head couldn’t get paid if the guy paying him went down, so of course he’d have to intervene. He needed to close the gap and do so quickly whilst maintaining a bit of a surprise.

There wasn’t much thought behind his next move, merely adrenaline and anger. Dead Head had successfully pulled this one off once before and instinctively attempted to use a beam blink combo to intercept the golden haired fighter en route to Raphael. In the back of his mind a little voice remarked to itself about the entertaining notion of using this move in front of Bobo, unfortunately she wasn’t here at the time.

At this moment Dead Head had forgotten about the shadows and the other nun who’d accompanied them, he was fully committed to giving the golden haired swordsman one hell of a time.

Dah Info

32 | Male | Freelancer | Dead Head
Hatred | Long Gun | Physical | Dragons Breath
Rage | Fire | Flames of Retribution
[Ignite, Fervor] Damage X, Damage, AoE, Puddle, Sky Call, Powerful, Scatter, Shield, Blink, Full Extend, Purify, Restrain
DAMAGE: A | SPEED: B | SENTINEL: E | Max Mana 1000

[Gold Beam][Powerful][Blink] - 112

PHYSICAL:E | ARCANE:C | CHAOS:D | Prior Mana 464 | Current Mana 352

Falling Skies

---

Elliot Braide // ROOK

Ensign

---

Ensign Braide it said, right there all shiny and polished. Elliot took a slow moment of relishment as he slowly reattached the shiny name plaque back to the dress uniform with an almost reverential touch. Elliot had dreamed of this for so long, for as long as he could remember really. Elliot had wanted to be a pilot since the day he’d first seen a picture of a MAS. Mommy! Daddy! he’d cried out, I want to fly the big boom bots! Of course his parents had brushed him off as usual and instructed Elliot to go play or find some other way to occupy his time. That had never stopped him though, and although they’d seemed to ignore his pleas there had been a certain specific change in the style of toys he would continue to receive and play with as the years went on. Elliot had fostered his own interest in MAS over the years and through a few strings pulled here and the influence of his family he’d finally managed to achieve his goal. Even still though it felt like not quite enough, Elliot couldn’t put his finger on why and as such shoved these feelings to the back of his mind. Here he was finally, a real pilot surrounded by other real pilots with an entire fleet of se-technicians and naval men and women standing by to service their needs and ensure that whatever they needed to achieve their goals would be theirs. Elliot should be relishing in his victory, his achievement. And so he did, dusting and detailing the dress uniform that he’d worn in his graduation ceremony. It had been the best day of his life. Those nagging feelings of emptiness would just have to get shoved in a box to be forgotten about, dismissed.

Elliot turned away from his uniform and surveyed the rest of his room; it wasn’t much, yet. Elliot would change that, with time of course; he’d just need to make some calls and a few demands, maybe twist a few elbows. The only thing that really showed any lick of personality in the room was the rough pile of books that Elliot had gathered on his bed, most of them being the only real possessions he kept. A majority of the books were about MAS, theory and practical knowledge; a portion were more generalized topics that Elliot wished to have a basic understanding of. More than a few had bookmarks, sticky notes, dividers, and all manner of things poking out of them as a way to mark important entries. A few of the technical manuals looked plenty more worn and opening any one might reveal an untold amount of handwritten notes between the lines of text. To an onlooker it was chaos, to Elliot it all made perfect sense. He knew where to find whatever he might need whenever the moment called for it, he’d read most of these front to back numerous times. Elliot's eyes landed on a specific one, one of the only fictional novels in the pile, with a particular sense of fondness. Elliot picked it up and dusted it off, surveying the cover and reminiscing about the days as a child reading through the adventures of the book's protagonist and his cheeky sidekick. This one in particular had a hefty bit of influence on Elliot’s desires as he was growing up and as such would likely never leave his side, a prized possession of sorts.

"General Quarters, General Quarters. All hands to battle stations. I repeat: General Quarters. General Quarters..."

Elliot was so locked into his memories that the call for quarters practically sent him flying out of his own skin. Thankfully the room was empty and no one heard the yelp of surprise he let out as the book he’d suddenly dropped landed squarely on his toe. With a splutter of curses Elliot quickly pivoted and burst through the door into the hallway already bustling with activity.

“MOVE IT! MAKE WAY! PILOT COMING THROUGH! THAT’S AN ORDER! MAKE WAY!”

Elliots voice boomed down the hallway like a fog horn, a sudden air of arrogance taking place upon his shoulders like a form fitted cape. This was everything he’d dreamed, techs and other service men and women scrambled to make way as he barreled down the hallway, those who didn’t move quick enough were not of Elliot’s concern. He did his absolute best not to step on anyway or cause any injuries, massive ones at least. The occasional slow mover may just have found themselves brushed aside in an unceremonious manner though and a couple individuals might have found themselves falling to the ground as Elliot shoved aside. Regardless Elliot wouldn’t let anything stand between him and reaching the pilot bay in 90 seconds. They’d made it very clear that this expectation was an important one and Elliot wouldn’t have his first operation starting off on the right foot, commoners be damned.

Elliot made his way into the bay on the heels of his fellows, unnoticed by the more seasoned pilots. Elliot knew they didn’t hold much of an opinion of him, yet. It was to be expected as the new guy and Elliot had no illusions of his place. To him it just meant he’d work even harder to achieve the respect he so desired. These individuals, his squadmates and the fellow pilots in the flotilla, this is who he’d always dreamed of being amongst. Likely the only figures he ever felt an inkling of respect for were pilots, everyone else was too weak or too useless to get behind the stick and to Elliot that meant they were useless or not worth his time. Nevertheless Elliot had learned to at least tolerate being around those beneath him for the use they could pose in achieving his own goals. These fellows though, his squadmates, were the real deal. Practically walking gods in his eyes. Elliot was tickled pink to finally be amongst their ranks.

Elliot scrambled into his cockpit without a word, sparing little time to admire his MAS. As reluctant as his family had been about his choices Elliot had managed to at least get him to spring for one badass piece of machinery. In the name of his safety, as he’d spun it to his parents. In reality Elliot just wanted to pilot the same MAS as his favorite book character, the one he’d been reading about for years. Elliot had a surprisingly intimate knowledge of the MAS based on that alone, for a fictional story the author had been surprisingly true to reality, or as true as they could be. As for the rest, well one of the more beaten up manuals back on Elliot's bed was for the Venerator.

> Confirming Pilot Assignment: ENS ELLIOT BRAIDE
> ...Pilot Confirmed
> Initializing systems…

Elliot was on time but slightly behind his squadmates as he listened to their friendly bickering, a smile coming to his face. Elliot always had trouble suppressing his joy when piloting a MAS, like a dream come true almost. Simply put, he was giddy as a lune.

> Reactor: Online_
> Life Support: Online_
> Shield Generator: Online_
> Weapon Systems: Online_

Elliot wasted no time as he settled into the cockpit and ran through his pre-flight checks. So far all systems were coming back as expected and he was green across the board. Today was gonna be a good day.

> All Calibrations Complete
> All Systems Nominal
> Standby for Launch

“ROOK SOUNDING OFF! SIR!” Elliot shouted, perhaps a tad too enthusiastically, and might bit a tad too loud given the direct line to his squad's ears.

Symphony on High

Dead Head

”Ruh Roh Raggy”

---

Asher had honestly expected shit to blow up, for something to start screaming, hellfire or something. What he hadn’t expected was to succeed at basically letting off a stinky flare before getting catapulted into a mass of shadows. What was that weird french saying that everyone liked to use to sound fancy? c'est Fa pie, Br'est la Tie? Asher wasn’t french, or big on idioms. Whatever, there were more important things going on than metaphorical phrasings, like the angry pack of shades doing their best to puncture Asher to bits and bobs. Couldn’t have that of course.

Asher’s instinctual move upon landing was to cast a shield note, but of course he was a little salty at the turn of events and looking to get back into the saddle. Instead of just hardening his skin like usual Asher cranked things to the max. An angry roar erupted from the pack of shades as Asher’s emotions poured out of him in an almost physical manifestation. His metallic skin took on an even harder edge as the fire’s in his eyes blazed to an inferno. Asher started swinging Hatred around with reckless abandon, every time he found himself with enough room to take aim Asher would unload a slug on whatever poor creature found itself beneath his ire. From an onlookers perspective one might assume Asher had turned feral.

Asher’s anger had clearly bested him for the moment as he was fully focused on thinning out the hoard of chaff that was being sent their way and had yet to consider taking on any of the more important targets. Buuuut Asher wasn’t really thinking about things strategically, plenty satisfied with just killing anything that stepped into his gaze.

Dah Info

32 | Male | Freelancer | Dead Head
Hatred | Long Gun | Physical | Dragons Breath
Rage | Fire | Flames of Retribution
[Ignite, Fervor] Damage X, Damage, AoE, Puddle, Sky Call, Powerful, Scatter, Shield, Blink, Full Extend, Purify, Restrain
DAMAGE: A | SPEED: B | SENTINEL: E | Max Mana 1000

[Gold self][Powerful][Fervor][Shield] - 336

PHYSICAL:E | ARCANE:C | CHAOS:D | Prior Mana 800 | Current Mana 464

Falling Skies

Pilot Dossier: Braide, Elliot

ELLIOT 'ROOK' Braide

D O S S I E R : I D #513879458

---

Name: Braide, Elliot
Callsign: Rook
Rank: 0-1, Ensign
Kills: 0.

Gender: Male
Age: 21
Height: 5’7”
Weight: #145

S E R V I C E R E C O R D

---

Psychological Analysis:
Elliot grew up pampered and coddled, to say he turned into a pompous cunt would be an understatement. Arrogance oozes from him like sweat from a pore and the way he feels as if he’s better than you could almost be seen as a tangible entity. Maybe that’s a tad bit overdramatic, but from a young age he has been coddled and lacking in any responsible influence in his life. Elliot is used to getting what he wants when he wants it and putting his needs before the needs of those around him. On the flip side of the coin he practically worships MAS pilots, having been obsessed with the massive machines of war and those valiant warriors who pilot them from a young age. It could be said that those that pilot an MAS are about the only one’s he truly does respect. Of course Elliot also has a severe problem with authority figures. The first year of academy was an adjustment period for Elliot but he found that even in the military one could learn to work the system.

Elliot is fresh out of the academy and has zero practical experience. He’s never killed, he’s never truly fought beyond a sparring match, and he’s never been outside of UEE space. Many of the worldviews he holds are lofty and ungrounded in reality, a side effect of the sheltered lifestyle in which he was raised. Unbeknownst to Elliot life holds many humbling experiences along the path he treads and although he looks towards the future with naive joy at his chance to be a pilot he knows little of what the reality of it shall truly be like.

Personal Record:
Some people have to fight for everything they have in this world, others just come by it through sheer dumb luck. Elliot was of the latter group. His family was wealthy and well connected, politicos from a long line of politicos. Growing up Elliot was handed just about anything he could ask for and catered too damn near like royalty. Of course with such busy parental figures it was fair to say that there was an absence of any firm guiding hand throughout much of his childhood.

In his teenage years he sought to break away from the coddling of his youth somewhat as he mingled with questionable company and started to find himself wrapped up in illegal affairs. Of course his parents had to intervene, the optics of a child involved in illicit activities posed a hefty risk to the political legacy they’d created. And so Elliot began his military career at the ripe age of sixteen when his parents shipped him off to military boarding school with no other choice as they’d put it. Of course being as things were in Elliots life there was no significant change, merely a new coat of paint. Elliot’s family connections earned him a privileged status at school and it was no challenge at all to springboard from that into the Imperial Naval Academy.

Elliot had learned from a young age that connections and money made his world turn like the gears in a clock and continued to lean on this well into the academy. Although he’d technically had the aptitude and the intelligence he hardly ever applied them, coasting through courses and tests where possible and relying on the ‘system’ to keep him enrolled and passing. His peers found him a mixture of admirable and revolting, those who’d had to earn their places were sickened whereas like-minded individuals rubbed elbows with knowledgeable grins.

Of course there was at least one thing Elliot took seriously, Mobile Armored Suits. From a young age Elliot had been enthralled with the massive weapons of war since he’d been old enough to eavesdrop on his father’s conversations. As their usage grew and became more widely discussed and known Elliot had known they’d be the future, and that he’d someday pilot one. Of course with the connections his family had he knew that his father would make it happen. Even with this in mind Elliot actually applied himself anytime the subject matter pertained to MAS, although one would call his general performance average at best it was clear that he excelled in the technical learning regarding MAS. From a young age Elliot had been devouring every bit of literature related to MAS; whether it be special reports left out by his father, technical manuals released to military officials, after action reports where MAS had been involved or anything else under the sun that he could get his hands on.

Upon graduation Elliot pushed to enlist as a pilot for the 101st special operation group against the wishes of his parents. Although they’d known he’d enlisted in the academy the expectation had been that he’d become an officer and land a cushy desk job, to their shock this was very far from the trajectory that Elliot saw for himself. Regardless he pushed on, choosing to take the course of his life in his own hands for once.

Personal Skills:
Text Book Wizard: If it’s standard issue and has been extensively written about then it’s likely that Elliot has read and memorized it at one point or another. Elliot has always been obsessed with MAS and spends most if not all of his free time pouring over manuals and reports or whatever else he can find.

XTM-017 Venator

*Credit to Vietmyke for this awesome rich-boy custom, opted to have the rookie be provided a mech.

M O B I L E A R M O R S U I T

---

S P E C I F I C A T I O N S

---

Designation: XTM-017 Venator (Limited Production)
Role: Assault
Weight Class: Medium
Description:
A more or less discontinued line of high performance medium class MAS. Due to its high costs outweighing the increases in performance, and limited parts similarity, the XTM-017 Venator was ultimately passed up on by the UEE Naval Procurement Department in favor of the GTM-041 Centurion. Despite this, some limited number of models were produced and still see service within the UEE, and is widely regarded as a 'collectors' piece, regularly finding homes in the hands of the rich and well connected. Like the Centurion the Venator is designed to be a highly aggressive upgrade to the standard Sentry, with a focus on staying power over extended engagements. Lack of regular access to parts makes maintaining even a single Venator a rather expensive endeavor.

A R M A M E N T

---

• HB-17 Combat Maul (Heavy): - A heavy, two handed weapon resembling a maul. A thruster mounted to the back side of the combat surface assists it in surprisingly nimble movements, and a heavy spike on the front is heated and able to penetrate fortified installations, ship hull, and MAS cockpit alike. The weapon disassembles at the haft, with the handle being stored behind the shoulder and the weapon head on the small of the back.
• DEW-11 Laser Rifle (Primary): - A twin barreled, direct fire laser rifle, the DEW-11 is both accurate and long ranged, though lacks the stopping power of a standard autocannon. High power capacitors allow for alternating 1-second 'pulses', or elongated 3-second beams from both barrels. Though somewhat ineffective against armor treated with anti-beam coating or energy reflex shields, the weapon can still be considered a credible threat to both medium and light MAS, and extended fire can still burn out even the hardiest shields or armor. The weapon has effectively limitless ammo, though overuse over a short period of time can damage or wear out its more sensitive components.
• M112S 30mm autocannon (Primary): - A lightweight, short barreled, autocannon mounted on the Venator's left shoulder. The M112S is capable of firing the same 30mm API shells used by most UEE MAS, but is typically loaded with 30mm canister shells, effectively shotgun shells firing dozens of depleted uranium pellets. The M112S is fed by a shoulder mounted ammunition drum with 500 shells, features semi-automatic and fully automatic firing modes, and has a fire rate of 700 RPM.
• Jackknife Micro Missile System (Secondary): - Mounted on the right shoulder of the Venator are 3 sets of 3 tube micro missile launchers, totaling 12. After launch, these projectiles split into four small munitions in mid-air, and have a potent payload for their size, though lack in armor penetration. While ineffective against most larger MAS, Micro Missiles have varying degrees of effect on soft targets such as light vehicles, light MAS, and infantry, and can be used to overwhelm point defense systems.
• Head Mounted Point Defense Gun .50 Cal(Secondary): - A .50 caliber machine gun mounted on the Venator's head, this light weapon provides the mech with anti personnel and small missile defense. It has a 500 round magazine.
• C-1 Reflex Shield Generator (Utility slot): - The Venator comes armed with a fast regenerating Class 1 reflex shield on top of its standard armor for defense.
• F-16 Flight Booster (Utility slot): - lightweight shoulder mounted afterburners give the Venator the ability to maintain flight, as well as short boosts of speed, dodge and close distance between targets quickly.
• Uparmored (Utility slot): - Additional armor plating mounted to the Venator's cockpit, shoulders and legs providing it with increased protection at the cost of some mobility. Does not take a utility slot.

Falling Skies (Mecha, Military, Space Opera)

Depending km what kind of mech you're looking for, I cam send you a few suggestions I have stored away @TaintedMushroom

@vietmyke

Well I was thinking something light or medium and more on the generic side, at least for now, given that he's the rookie I imagined he'd just be given something pretty standard issue.

Falling Skies (Mecha, Military, Space Opera)

I don't mind at all, I use AI gen for character images when there's absolutely nothing that fits my concept otherwise.

@Psyker Landshark

Any descent suggestions? I'm starting to feel like the dinosaur that just needs to get with it lol, but at the same time all the ones I have ran across are kinda butt.

AI generators I mean, unless you just meant in general.

Falling Skies (Mecha, Military, Space Opera)

@TaintedMushroom A surprising twist on a rookie, but not at all unwelcome. Elliot is looking pretty good so far! Let me know if you need any help with images or mech ideas!

@vietmyke

Thanks! I thought it would add some fun points of friction potentially.

Both? Lmao I have had a dreadful time finding imagery for either subject that isn't AI generated. IDK how you guys feel about AI, I am not a fan though at least for characters.

Google just ain't been cuttin' it.

Falling Skies (Mecha, Military, Space Opera)

I made a character at least! Still really really stuck on the mech actually, but here's first draft for the rookie! Nothing special, just maybe some contrast for the party.

Also still trying to find a suitable image, I've been struggling.

Pilot Dossier: Braide, Elliot

ELLIOT 'ROOK' Braide

D O S S I E R : I D #513879458

---

Name: Braide, Elliot
Callsign: Rook
Rank: 0-1, Ensign
Kills: 0.

Gender: Male
Age: 21
Height: 5’7”
Weight: #145

S E R V I C E R E C O R D

---

Psychological Analysis:
Elliot grew up pampered and coddled, to say he turned into a pompous cunt would be an understatement. Arrogance oozes from him like sweat from a pore and the way he feels as if he’s better than you could almost be seen as a tangible entity. Maybe that’s a tad bit overdramatic, but from a young age he has been coddled and lacking in any responsible influence in his life. Elliot is used to getting what he wants when he wants it and putting his needs before the needs of those around him. On the flip side of the coin he practically worships MAS pilots, having been obsessed with the massive machines of war and those valiant warriors who pilot them from a young age. It could be said that those that pilot an MAS are about the only one’s he truly does respect. Of course Elliot also has a severe problem with authority figures. The first year of academy was an adjustment period for Elliot but he found that even in the military one could learn to work the system.

Elliot is fresh out of the academy and has zero practical experience. He’s never killed, he’s never truly fought beyond a sparring match, and he’s never been outside of UEE space. Many of the worldviews he holds are lofty and ungrounded in reality, a side effect of the sheltered lifestyle in which he was raised. Unbeknownst to Elliot life holds many humbling experiences along the path he treads and although he looks towards the future with naive joy at his chance to be a pilot he knows little of what the reality of it shall truly be like.

Personal Record:
Some people have to fight for everything they have in this world, others just come by it through sheer dumb luck. Elliot was of the latter group. His family was wealthy and well connected, politicos from a long line of politicos. Growing up Elliot was handed just about anything he could ask for and catered too damn near like royalty. Of course with such busy parental figures it was fair to say that there was an absence of any firm guiding hand throughout much of his childhood.

In his teenage years he sought to break away from the coddling of his youth somewhat as he mingled with questionable company and started to find himself wrapped up in illegal affairs. Of course his parents had to intervene, the optics of a child involved in illicit activities posed a hefty risk to the political legacy they’d created. And so Elliot began his military career at the ripe age of sixteen when his parents shipped him off to military boarding school with no other choice as they’d put it. Of course being as things were in Elliots life there was no significant change, merely a new coat of paint. Elliot’s family connections earned him a privileged status at school and it was no challenge at all to springboard from that into the Imperial Naval Academy.

Elliot had learned from a young age that connections and money made his world turn like the gears in a clock and continued to lean on this well into the academy. Although he’d technically had the aptitude and the intelligence he hardly ever applied them, coasting through courses and tests where possible and relying on the ‘system’ to keep him enrolled and passing. His peers found him a mixture of admirable and revolting, those who’d had to earn their places were sickened whereas like-minded individuals rubbed elbows with knowledgeable grins.

Of course there was at least one thing Elliot took seriously, Mobile Armored Suits. From a young age Elliot had been enthralled with the massive weapons of war since he’d been old enough to eavesdrop on his father’s conversations. As their usage grew and became more widely discussed and known Elliot had known they’d be the future, and that he’d someday pilot one. Of course with the connections his family had he knew that his father would make it happen. Even with this in mind Elliot actually applied himself anytime the subject matter pertained to MAS, although one would call his general performance average at best it was clear that he excelled in the technical learning regarding MAS. From a young age Elliot had been devouring every bit of literature related to MAS; whether it be special reports left out by his father, technical manuals released to military officials, after action reports where MAS had been involved or anything else under the sun that he could get his hands on.

Upon graduation Elliot pushed to enlist as a pilot for the 101st special operation group against the wishes of his parents. Although they’d known he’d enlisted in the academy the expectation had been that he’d become an officer and land a cushy desk job, to their shock this was very far from the trajectory that Elliot saw for himself. Regardless he pushed on, choosing to take the course of his life in his own hands for once.

Personal Skills:
Text Book Wizard: If it’s standard issue and has been extensively written about then it’s likely that Elliot has read and memorized it at one point or another. Elliot has always been obsessed with MAS and spends most if not all of his free time pouring over manuals and reports or whatever else he can find.

XTM-017 Venator

*Credit to Vietmyke for this awesome rich-boy custom, opted to have the rookie be provided a mech.

M O B I L E A R M O R S U I T

---

S P E C I F I C A T I O N S

---

Designation: XTM-017 Venator (Limited Production)
Role: Assault
Weight Class: Medium
Description:
A more or less discontinued line of high performance medium class MAS. Due to its high costs outweighing the increases in performance, and limited parts similarity, the XTM-017 Venator was ultimately passed up on by the UEE Naval Procurement Department in favor of the GTM-041 Centurion. Despite this, some limited number of models were produced and still see service within the UEE, and is widely regarded as a 'collectors' piece, regularly finding homes in the hands of the rich and well connected. Like the Centurion the Venator is designed to be a highly aggressive upgrade to the standard Sentry, with a focus on staying power over extended engagements. Lack of regular access to parts makes maintaining even a single Venator a rather expensive endeavor.

A R M A M E N T

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• HB-17 Combat Maul (Heavy): - A heavy, two handed weapon resembling a maul. A thruster mounted to the back side of the combat surface assists it in surprisingly nimble movements, and a heavy spike on the front is heated and able to penetrate fortified installations, ship hull, and MAS cockpit alike. The weapon disassembles at the haft, with the handle being stored behind the shoulder and the weapon head on the small of the back.
• DEW-11 Laser Rifle (Primary): - A twin barreled, direct fire laser rifle, the DEW-11 is both accurate and long ranged, though lacks the stopping power of a standard autocannon. High power capacitors allow for alternating 1-second 'pulses', or elongated 3-second beams from both barrels. Though somewhat ineffective against armor treated with anti-beam coating or energy reflex shields, the weapon can still be considered a credible threat to both medium and light MAS, and extended fire can still burn out even the hardiest shields or armor. The weapon has effectively limitless ammo, though overuse over a short period of time can damage or wear out its more sensitive components.
• M112S 30mm autocannon (Primary): - A lightweight, short barreled, autocannon mounted on the Venator's left shoulder. The M112S is capable of firing the same 30mm API shells used by most UEE MAS, but is typically loaded with 30mm canister shells, effectively shotgun shells firing dozens of depleted uranium pellets. The M112S is fed by a shoulder mounted ammunition drum with 500 shells, features semi-automatic and fully automatic firing modes, and has a fire rate of 700 RPM.
• Jackknife Micro Missile System (Secondary): - Mounted on the right shoulder of the Venator are 3 sets of 3 tube micro missile launchers, totaling 12. After launch, these projectiles split into four small munitions in mid-air, and have a potent payload for their size, though lack in armor penetration. While ineffective against most larger MAS, Micro Missiles have varying degrees of effect on soft targets such as light vehicles, light MAS, and infantry, and can be used to overwhelm point defense systems.
• Head Mounted Point Defense Gun .50 Cal(Secondary): - A .50 caliber machine gun mounted on the Venator's head, this light weapon provides the mech with anti personnel and small missile defense. It has a 500 round magazine.
• C-1 Reflex Shield Generator (Utility slot): - The Venator comes armed with a fast regenerating Class 1 reflex shield on top of its standard armor for defense.
• F-16 Flight Booster (Utility slot): - lightweight shoulder mounted afterburners give the Venator the ability to maintain flight, as well as short boosts of speed, dodge and close distance between targets quickly.
• Uparmored (Utility slot): - Additional armor plating mounted to the Venator's cockpit, shoulders and legs providing it with increased protection at the cost of some mobility. Does not take a utility slot.

Symphony on High

Dead Head

”Starting the party!”

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The perfect soundtrack would have to wait, things were getting spicy and the half naked lady had started a fight, figures. At least Asher didn’t have to worry about moral questions today, it was pretty clear to him that these new arrivals were baddies just like the first operation he’d taken part in.

As things erupted around him a set of dark appendages began doing their best to restrain him starting from his legs and moving up. Asher couldn’t keep the grin off his face, truth was he was flattered, with what little information they had they’d decided Asher was an early threat and sought to remove him from the fight early. Asher wasn’t too concerned as the appendages circled him further, awaiting the moment when it was clear that they had a good firm hold on his lower half but had yet to reach his arms.

“Didn’t they ever teach you not to play with fire?” He asked aloud with a twisted smile as he laid both his palms on the thickest part of the restraints. For a brief second Asher considered holding back, but he had a reputation to maintain and wouldn’t be called Dead Head if something didn’t die every so often.

With a growl and a snap of anger Asher poured a massive amount of heat and energy straight through his palms into the creature attempting to restrain him. From an outside perspective one might assume Asher went supernova based on the amount of fire that he summoned as he attempted to turn his would-be captor into the crispiest of critters.

Dah Info

32 | Male | Freelancer | Dead Head
Hatred | Long Gun | Physical | Dragons Breath
Rage | Fire | Flames of Retribution
[Ignite, Fervor] Damage X, Damage, AoE, Puddle, Sky Call, Powerful, Scatter, Shield, Blink, Full Extend, Purify, Restrain
DAMAGE: A | SPEED: B | SENTINEL: E | Max Mana 1000

[Gold Touch][Ignite][Damage X] – 200

PHYSICAL:E | ARCANE:C | CHAOS:D | Prior Mana 1000 | Current Mana 800