Current
Stop being passive aggressive. Just be aggressive.
7
likes
1 yr ago
It is certainly not 'optimal', but it *is* doable, depending on what you want to do with it. You could go swords or valor bard and play them more like a warrior with some magical ability
2
likes
2 yrs ago
One might say your villain arc has begun. Embrace it.
The situation was handled. Even with Mizutani waving around a pistol, this situation was all but handled- the crime lord wasn't a warrior like the rest of them, so Galahad doubted she could do much with the firearm. The others seemed to have a similar idea as a few of them began to disperse, Eliane with her newfound toy and Esben taking away Robin. Galahad merely stayed in the room to hold an imposing presence, heavy armor and weapons had a tendency to do that. They'd gotten to Mizutani, and now Miina could get her questions answered, then they could dispose of her and be done with this dirty business. At least, that was the plan, right?
It was incredible how quickly plans could unravel- by this point, Galahad should've hardly been surprised, but he was still caught by surprise nonetheless. Galahad had a feeling Ciradyl had come here for more reasons than just a cup of tea in the middle of the night, but stabbing her while another of their group was trying to get answers wasn't exactly what he had expected. "Grab her!" Galahad bellowed, but Rudolf was already on it. Galahad quickly slid across the floor to grab Mizutani in turn. His hands moved to her wounds, putting pressure on them. He had no particular need care for the woman- after all she had just sent an entire building's worth of goons on them, but Miina's questions deserved answers- that was the main reason she was out here with them, after all.
"Etro above! Ciradyl you damned fool!" Galahad cursed her. Could her revenge have not waited ten godsdamned minutes? It wasn't as though they couldn't have lied to Mizutani about ensuring their safety. Sure, lying wasn't exactly in Galahad's wheelhouse, but there were plenty of folk in their group that probably would have had fewer scruples regarding such a thing. It wasn't as though Galahad didn't understand the desire for revenge- it was as common a motivator as any that anyone could find. But honestly? It wasn't as though Miina had been keeping her need to find her brother a secret. Ciradyl at the very least was aware of such a thing, but couldn't find it in herself to even let the girl find answers before exacting vengeance for whatever reasons she had. She knew they were here to kill Mizutani anyway- she could've gone with them and her vengeance likely would've been sated one way or another way. Instead, she let herself in while letting the rest of the party bumble around through dozens of goons.
"Rudolf. Keep her there." Galahad growled, pointing at Ciradyl with his halberd before gesturing to Miina, "Come, I won't be able to stop the bleeding without magic."
Glancing down at Mizutani in his arms, Galahad's look offered no pity. One arm kept the woman restrained, in case she tried anything funny, a broad hand holding both of her wrists like a vice. Setting down the heavy halberd, the Galahad's other hand rested on the grip of his hunting knife on the small of his back. "New deal Miss Tane. Miina is the only one in this room capable of keeping you alive. I'd be trying to get into her good books right about now- first by answering her questions."
"Like I said, if you want to run off on your own, don't blame me for what happens." Rathello remarked. If he was peeved with the lack of attention paid to his very simple rules, he didn't show it. To be fair, this was a lower level dungeon, so perhaps he shouldn't have been too worried, but a history of dying party members never looked good on a solo player's resume, so Rathello liked to keep risks to a minimum.
Luckily Elian had his back, as did Claudia, so he didn't have to worry too much. Goibniu, their defacto leader- as he was the one who had put the party together in the first place suggested that they go through the dorms first, and Elian suggested that they clear the first floor first anyway, which Rathello concurred with.
"Dorms it is then." Rathello nodded in agreement as they approached the first door. Nothing had sprung out at them yet, but this was a dungeon, so Rathello didn't expect it would stay that way for long. He glanced back at the others to make sure they were ready, before he placed his foot on the door to the dorms.
"Knock, knock." Rathello chuckled as his foot kicked the door down, his bulky form quickly stepping through the doorway so the rest of the party could filter in behind and around him.
"Shit! Shit! Shit!" Came the twin voices of both Gerard and the Princess as they tumbled out of the back of the truck. Thank the gods for Justice and Silje's early warnings or Gerard wouldn't have been able to tell where the bullet sharks were until they were right on top of them. Though things weren't fairing much better for the support mage, bullet sharks traveled a lot faster than he did, and he'd barely gotten the half full Jerry can of fuel below his feet before he felt the ground rumble and a pair of jaws appeared beneath him.
Flimsy steel crumpled beneath the heavy jaws as Gerard scrambled out of the way, a roar muffled by a half gallon of Etherium fuel pouring down the beast's gullet. Shoving Gerard out of the way, the princess produced another one of her light arrows, though this time instead of firing it from a bow, instead threw it directly down the gut of the offending shark. There was a pained roar as the beast literally breathed fire, writhing as it was cooked from the inside out.
Another pair jumped out of the ground, and were subsequently batted away by Gerard's telekinesis, a heavy gauntlet smashing them left and right- though it did little more than make them angry. "This is probably why they suggest we carry bladed weapons with us too, huh?" He grumbled as a wave of magic sent the princess floating into the air, narrowly missing the jaws of one of the sharks. The pair seemed ready to continue their attack, but aburptly turned their heads and charged towards a new source of mist, Silje from atop the RV.
"H-hey! What's going on out there?" The trapped voice whined, "You gotta get me out of here before they come back!"
Perhaps his warnings were too late, as the ground below them rumble and shifted, the mother shark close to the surface as she burrowed beneath them, reappearing as a pair of jaws appeared below the RV and snapped shut. Not quite large enough to get to Silje through the RV, but enough to knock it a few feet into the air as it almost sundered the RV in half, heavy jaws attempting to crush and chew through the RV and Silje with it!
"Shit! Fuck! Help!" Came the piteous cries as the man fell out of the side of the broken RV, his legs no longer pinned, but seriously injured. He opened his mouth to say something more but was cut off as an olive drab crate slid out after him and smashed into his jaw, knocking him out clean. The crate clattered to the ground and cracked open, depositing half a dozen pistols, loaded magazines, a quartet of hand grenades, and a block of plastic explosives.
Undeterred by the metal vehicle frame, heavy jaws forged forward as the mother shark found its target and began to close its mouth, seeking to swallow Silje whole.
“I need a drink, any drink, so let’s do that? Two gangs…right? So we find one, in a bar, and we go from there,” Wildfire said.
“I’ll get them talking, one way or another. You can count on it…” she added, swiping an imaginary set of claws through the air.
“Besides, Frost’s credits are burning a hole in my pocket. And I could be doing so, so much more with this sweet, sweet pile of Nuyen than standing here.”
“Keep pressing me and there might be a hole in more than just your pocket.” Frost growled threateningly, and though the sentiment might have seemed serious to anyone out of the sisters’ loop, to those in the know, this was just more of the usual. Frost hadn't touched a hair on her sister's head since the day they met- though certainly not for a lack of trying, in their earlier years at least. Nowadays Frost was cybered enough that she could at least track Nadya's movements, though their cat and mouse games usually never went too far while working.
“We've been drinking all day.” Frost grumbled, “Small glasses in a small airplane.”
“And now we can drink bigger drinks in bigger glasses in bigger bars! Just say yes, Frost. Please? Don’t make me pout. Oh! I know! We can sit outside!”
Frost glared at Nadya for a moment, bright beaming puppy dog eyes staring back at her. A vein on Frost's forehead pulsed, a rumble in her throat suggested something close to aggression. With a tired sigh, Frost relented.
“We're supposed to be working, mui.” Frost grumbled, an oversized hand rubbing tiredly at her temples. She was almost certain she felt wrinkles beginning to form on her face. “A self guided tour of Gangland might not be a bad idea though.”
“Fine.” Frost eventually relented, “But first we need to get transportation. Drones and guns aren't exactly subtle in the middle of the city. Work first, then we can get drinks.”
“Moya lyubimaya starshaya sestra,” Wildfire replied, a cheshire cat grin plastered on her face as she reached up with her right hand to softly pat Frost on the cheek, her sister's face notably contorting and slowly burning red- seemingly uncharacteristic to her given handle. “You finally see sense! The Old Timer always said drinking was a full time job!”
“You are most right though! We need a ride. Something discreet. Preferably fast. Something big enough for your many, many guns and the drones of the Josei,” Wildfire added, nodding in Captcha’s direction.
“The old man is full of shit.” Frost grumbled, but nodded anyway, shooting a glance at the rest of the group. “We'll find a ride. Send us your location in the district and we'll meet you there.”
“Yeah, or wherever,” Wildfire said, “Just remember, we charge by the kilometer. And don’t keep us waiting...”
EZ Glossary Mui = Cantonese “younger sister” Moya lyubimaya starshaya sestra = Russian:“My Beloved Older Sister” Josei = Japanese “Lady”
Fighting in such tight quarters was a real pain, at least for someone like Galahad. Tight corridors and small spaces did little to allow for wide swings of his halberd. At the very least, there seemed to be no one able to follow them through the fire, though it did not bode well for the structural integrity of the building- and Galahad hadn't accounted for Éliane's explosives either, though knowing the Skaeler, he probably should've. Thankfully, at least the gunfire stopped- or at least slowed, one of the Kirin's above must have taken care of the gunner that was pinning them down. That meant they were basically at Mizutanei's doorstep.
The sounds of rapid gunfire were replaced with the muffled thud and shifting of feet and bodies, as the Kirins were likely handling the last of the bodyguards as they spoke. Galahad turned to follow the rest of the Kirin's up the stairs and into the proceeding floor when he heard the muffled sounds of voices. Glancing above him, he saw the slight traces of dust dislodged from movement above, and the creaking of the wood denoting weight and steps. There were several figures in the room directly above him. One was heavy and slowly stepping. A slight ways away was a muffled tone, feminine but unfamiliar. In the opposite direction, Galahad heard a more casual tone- difficult to tell what exactly was being said, but he knew the casual confidence well enough at this point.
A glance around the corner confirmed that weight above was neither Arton nor Rudolf, and he saw Éliane messing with the gun emplacement that had pinned them down. The remaining members of the party were too light footed to have been this one in particular either. Pressing down on the floor below him, Galahad tested the weight and strength of the floorboards and nodded to himself.
In Mizutani's office, the remaining Samurai slowly paced towards Esben, blade at the ready, his eyes darting between the door and Esben, half expecting someone to barge through the door. Turning towards the spy, the samurai held his blade over his head, and yelled, readying a charge. The scream was cut off halfway through as through the floor came Galahad's halberd, splintering through the wood as though it were little more than plywood. The heavy point of the weapon pierced through the bottom of the Samurai's jaw and pinned him to the ceiling above, sword clattering unceremoniously to the ground. A moment later, blued steel and dragonscale armor burst through the weakened floor, following his weapon as the dragoon jumped. Armored boots took the place of samurai sandals in the center of the room as Galahad lightly dusted off the top of his armor, swatting away splintered wood and dust.
"Pardon the intrusion." Galahad apologized, offering both the women and Esben a short nod as he reached up and grabbed the haft of his halberd, pulling it off the ceiling and discarding the corpse with a simple flourish. Now in an open room, he had a bit more space for his weapon, the axe blade slowly interposing itself between Tane and Cir as Galahad pulled off his helmet. Cold eyes glared at Ciradyl for a moment before shifting towards Mizutani, the point of his weapon moving a bit as he gestured for the two to separate "Good evening, Miss Tane. I wasn't aware you had a guest. My apologies, but I believe you have some more pressing matters to attend to."
Rath chuckled cheerily as more offered to join the party. Frankly he was a bit surprised they'd rounded out their number so quickly, but Shehar was a pretty busy area, so perhaps it shouldn't have been too surprising. With Elian along, Rath felt fairly confident he could tank just about anything that was thrown at them fairly easily enough, especially if they were looking at Rank C dungeons. Rath was already well and used to participating in high level raids, so this oughta be a walk in the park.
"The more the merrier I say, we'll clear rooms faster with more DPS." Rath remarked as he looked over their growing group. They had Tanking and healing with himself and Elian, a mixed smattering of DPS between the paladin, death knight and ranger, and then they had their artificer- who perhaps was not cut out for higher level dungeons, but they had enough around to carry him.
Outside the dungeon, Rath did much the same as Elian, tied up his horse and set a teleportation marker- he'd have to buy some more teleport crystals soon, he had just the one left and wasn't capable of casting the spell himself. Rath twiddled his thumbs idly as they party began casting their party wide buffs, sizing up the entrance to the dungeon itself. "Sorry, don't have much in the way of party buffs." Rath chuckled, "Mostly just personal buffs- and anything I could cast, Elian does better anyway."
"Some ground rules- since most of us haven't worked together yet. I'm always the first through any door, in case of traps or ambushes. Unless you're able to finish them on your own, don't fight enemies I haven't aggro'd. Rath rattled off like a football coach. "That means don't run off on your own and expect the rest of us to come to your rescue when you get into trouble. We'll go slow through the first few rooms to see how quickly we can clear, if I think we're up to it, I'll pull more and faster." He figured most of the people here knew the basics of dungeon running, perhaps aside from their artificer, but it always helped to keep the basics in mind. He glanced at Elian, "If somehow we get into a situation where we need to choose one person or the other to survive, we obviously keep the healer alive. Uhh... I think that's about it. Anything to add El?"
As always, Esben had found another way in- a lucky thing the SEED was on their side. Also, in what was seemingly a disturbingly regular occurrence nowadays, something went wrong. Not for lack of planning, or lack of stealth, but the sheer dumb luck of a pair of guards slacking off and going out for a smoke break. On another night, Galahad might've found the change in schedule humanizing, but tonight was not that night. The Kirins were spurred forward, the element of surprise lost, and they now made do with violence of action and the shock and surprise that came with it. Galahad had no need to bark orders, they were all basically stabbing in the dark anyway, rushing their way to the uppermost floors, and dealing with any unfortunate soldier that got in their way.
Galahad found himself rather limited in these close quarters, stuck holding his halberd close to the chest and employing short stabs and kicks, lest his wide swings get caught on a wall or an ally. Luckily, none of these men wore the same armor and had the same weapons as Valheim soldiers did, and his jabs easily pierced and sundered through their relatively light clothing and armor.
The stairway that filled with gunfire might've been a problem had Eve not subsequently filled it with fire, Arton leading the charge up the stairs shortly afterwards. Galahad began to hang towards the back of the formation, where he could swing and stab with impunity to hold off any goons that were trying to reinforce their boss from the lower floors. Out of the corner of his eye, Galahad spotted a man bearing a crossbow, a glinting tip levelled at the firebreathing pseudolon.
Grabbing the half-dragon by the back of her robe, Galahad yanked her a step back, crossbow bolt spiraling through the air her head just occupied. Rearing back, Galahad hucked his halberd down the hall, the heavy weapon knocking the offending man off his feet, through the outer wall, and clear off the building. The sound of rushing wind was accented with the faint noise of a man screaming as the halberd flew back into Galahad's hand. He pushed the black mage onward towards the rest of the party.
"Set the corridor behind us on fire, prevent reinforcements from catching up with us." Galahad said as he stabbed forward at another man rounding the corner, pinning him to the wall. "But lets try not to blow up the building while we're still inside."
Visiting Alora had always been something in the cards- supposedly the resort scene on this planet was to die for, but this wasn't exactly what Sabine had in mind. A a few months ago, if someone told her she'd be getting a month and a half on Alora, she'd have been jumping for joy. She was still jumping of course, though now it was mostly over rubble and pockets of radiation- not exactly her idea of a vacation. Not for a lack of trying of course, Sabine had conveniently parked her mech more or less in the center of the pilots' congregation and was currently lounging in a hammock strung between the mech's leg and the remains of a nearby pillar. In her hands was a scorched magazine, and the remains of the tanning mirror she'd found somewhere within the remains of the hotel did little for her skin- currently clad head to toe in her flight suit. To her side, a holo-display slowly scrolled by, displaying diagnostics information as she was wrapping up the Hare's maintenance checks. Only a scorch mark gouging through the left side of her flight suit from a rather close call signified that their current situation could've been anything other than a vacation to the young pilot.
Not that the situation around them was any better. Even after over a month of hard fighting, they hadn't made nearly as much progress as they needed. The planet was dying. If they didn't take care of the Aberrant threat soon, then the entire planet would be lost within the week. No doubt Howe was beginning to think this was all a wasted effort, and Sabine couldn't exactly blame him either. Sure, she enjoyed flying and fighting- loved it in fact, but brutal attrition wasn't exactly her style, blaze of glory was much preferred. The White Hare was designed for rapid assaults, and instead they were bogged down in what more or less amounted to a slow slog through the middle of Aberrant territory. Damage was slowly but surely mounting, and she down to about a quarter of her smartcannon and missile ammunition, forcing her to rely mostly on her energy weapons for the past few days. But with resources spread thin the way they were, they all had to make do: ad hoc units formed in the middle of fighting, picking up pilots and infantry from depleted and shattered units to fill out their own dwindling ranks.
Commander Aurigae- Ahkari had approached their small formation with a plan: One last daring, all or nothing type of raid. End the Aberrant threat in a day, no doubt at the cost of many- or most of their lives. A suicide run with dubious odds of success at best. Sabine snorted at the thought of the mission being a request. They all knew that at the rate they were going, the planet would be lost before they could get to the Princess. They were going in, or they were pulling out, no two ways about it, though Sabine at least appreciated the courtesy of asking, as unnecessary as it was.
"Safe is boring." Sabine whined. The mirror cracked and broke as it clattered to the ground, magazine unceremoniously dumped aside as Sabine swung off of her hammock and back down to the ground with the rest of the crew. Her footsteps light and bouncy as she casually sauntered over to Howe and swiped the lit cigarette from his fingers, taking a long drag from it as she leaned on the taller pilot. She winced slightly as she stretched the burn on her side, but otherwise ignored the discomfort. With a languid yawn, Sabine fixed her eyes on their current Constellation-Commander and winked. "Howie's right, and you said it yourself, we don't have enough time to take it slow. Might as well quit beating around the bush and hit that bitch where it hurts."
"Besides, as much as I've liked Alora, all the radiation really isn't good for my complexion."
B A S I C I N F O [Name]Sabine Dassault-Delacroix [Callsign]Rabbit [Gender]Female [Age]24 [Rank and Designation]E-5 - Petty Officer second class [Place of Birth]Atrebois [Official Statement]<Miss Delacroix! Miss Delacroix! Please don't do aileron rolls while we have the recor- ksshk pffffffffffffff>
C O M B A T A B I L I T Y [Mech Model]DTX-103 Wyverne Custom 'White Hare' [Type]High-Mobility Assault, Armored Cavalry [Size]45 ft tall, 35 tons [Core]Epsilon [Armaments]
DPW-12 Beam Rifle - Primary, Right- Dassault's DPW-12 is a 1.9 MW, semi-automatic beam rifle. The DPW-12 is designed to be a priemer beam weapon option for next-gen mecha troopers, combining both high accuracy and high punching power, limited mainly by sustained rate of fire and the cost of production. Charging directly from its own Beta core, the weapon's battery 'banks' up to 20 shots, allowing for effectively limitless ammunition- provided the pilot is conservative with their rate of fire. The weapon is designed to combat well armored foes, such as Rooks or Knights, or particularly well armored Pawns, though the power of its beam allows it to penetrate through multiple lightly armored or smaller targets. A second pre-charged battery 'magazine' is kept in a compartment underneath the rifle's stock in case the primary overheats or is damaged in some way. A 'bayonet lug' on underneath the main barrel allows a beam sabre to be mounted. A magnetic clamp mount is located behind the shoulder when the rifle needs to be stowed.
DKWx-31 45mm Smartcannon - Primary, Left- Fresh from the forges or Artebois and in the final stages of development, the brand new DKWx-41 Smartcannon uses specialized 'Smart' ammunition, bridging the gap between micro missiles and autocannon shell used by conventional forces. Using the agile and precise micro-missile as a base, the rocket propelled 45mm 'Smart' shells have built-in guidance systems and can self correct mid-course, allowing it to effectively shoot around cover, chase down targets, or even differentiate between targets. The Smartcannon is capable of multi-locking, and in a pinch can be fired in unguided mode. The weapon has a 60 shell external box magazine, with reloads stored in the ammunition compartments across the body. Due to its smaller size, it can be stored on the small of the back when not in use.
Dassault Estoc-15 Missile Launcher - Shoulder, Left, Right - Mounted on each shoulder of the Wyverne is a Estoc-15 missile launcher, capable of loosing a flurry of high powered airburst explosives. These missiles pack a decent punch and effect a larger area than their size would suggest, making them effective against numerous and tightly packed, or lightly armored targets, but suffer against more heavily armored foes.
E-21 Plasma Beam Saber - Secondary, Left - A standard pattern plasma beam saber used by the Wyverne in close combat. The blade length can be adjusted, and its high energy output allows it to be a deadly close ranged weapon. The weapon comes pre-charged prior to launch, though can be charged from the mech core if needed during long sorties. One is carried on a hip case on the side of the Wyverne.
DPW-02 Particle-Pulse Vulcan - Secondary, Right - A low powered energy weapon imitating the shape of a rotary cannon, the DPW-02 PB Vulcan was designed to utilize the efficiency of Aberrant core energy production to combat ammunition limitations in drawn out battles, and is slowly being phased in, in place of traditional aircraft based rotary cannons. Mounted on the forearm of the Wyverne, this weapon dispenses a high volume of plasma bolts with power comparable to that of standard 20mm autocannons and is rated for dealing with Pawn class Aberrants, but in a pinch can be used to harass stronger foes. A battery banking system stores around 2000 charges at a time, for about a full minute of firing before needing to recharge. The PB Vulcan's charge system can be manually disabled when needing to shunt power to other systems.
Wyverne High-Mobility Mode - The default 'mode' of the Wyverne in its bipedal mech form. While in this form, large directional thrusters give it incredible lateral movement, and substantial- though not groundbreaking top speeds. Meant for close-in fighting, the High-Mobility mode can change directions practically on a whim, built in G-force absorbing fields preventing its pilot from blacking out in its extremely acrobatic maneuvers.
Wyverne Flight Mode - When speed is required over mobility, the Wyverne can fold its legs and arms to transform into a more compact 'Flight' mode. While in flight mode, the Wyverne both acts and is visually more like an aerospace fighter, and can reach considerably top speeds- often higher than most other mechs thanks to its more aerodynamic shape. While in Flight mode however, the Wyverne loses its ability to turn on a dime or drastically adjust its angle of fire. Used for covering long distances, strafing enemy targets, or quickly maneuvering to a new position.
Emergency Countermeasures - A holdover from aerospace craft designs. A small combination of chaff, flares and smoke for defensive purposes.
Constellation Carry Handle- Affectionately referred to as 'the strap' , the standard issue CCH is included on all Dassault Aerospace mechs. What more or less amounts to a harness, straps and grab bars mounted on a cutout embedded in the back of the Wyverne. Provides minimal protection from G-forces during flight, but a small shroud of armor plating protects the rider from thruster backwash. A quick release function allows a rider to detach at will. Note from the user manual: 'It ishighlyrecommended that a Constellation notify their pilot before release, so the pilot can momentarily cut thrusters to prevent severe plasma burns.'
Profile
[Surface-level Impression]
Energetic and snarky, Sabine is for the most part fairly easygoing and playful. Despite being casually flirtatious with practically everyone she meets, Sabine shows little interest in actual romantic relationships. Regarded by many as an adrenaline junky, Sabine seems to love the thrill of flying and fighting, and has a reputation for being a bit of a thrillseeker and capable- if reckless, pilot. She trends towards sarcasm when faced with serious situations, and will regularly tease friends, coworkers and foes alike. Though not a stereotypical 'rich girl', Sabine has absolutely no issue throwing money around, especially if it can solve immediate problems. Sabine seems to have a soft spot for those displaced by the war- particularly children, and reacts aggressively in their defense.
On the rare, chance encounter with Sabine's more 'serious' side, it can be assumed that a lot of Sabine's more casual, devil-may-care attitude can be attributed as a way of dealing with the stresses of combat and warfare. Those particularly close to Sabine note that while she's still friendly, she tends to be far more reserved when in the presence of those she's comfortable around. She avoids being 'mopey' when possible, often hiding behind vices or vaguely related stories when pressed.
[Personal History]
Born to a pair of unknown parents, Sabine Delacroix and her sister Sera's earliest memories were of an orphanage in the Capitol city of Artebois. Soon after, Sabine and Sera were adopted by Lucien Dassault, a widower, a veteran of the ongoing conflict and the current head of the Dassault Aerospace Core Worlds branch. As newly minted heirs, Sabine was afforded practically any and every luxury she could want for. The best things, tutors, schools and education available in the Core Worlds.
Perhaps unsurprisingly, a young Sabine- like many a youth in these trying times, spent much of her formative years inundated by news and stories of the war, the heroic tales of larger-than-life Constellations fending off the Aberrants and the brave soldiers who supported them. Countless holo feeds of real-to-life superheroes riding into battle on the backs of the machines her father made, and the exciting and death defying feats they accomplished. From a young age, she was hooked.
While possessing no otherworldly powers of her own, Sabine, like most Artebois natives, took great interest and pride in their burgeoning mech industry. She learned how to move a mech before she learned how to drive a car, and even among Artebois youths, she was a natural at it. By the age of 13, she was a test pilot on Dassault's production lines, and by 15- along with a the hefty backing of her father, was put into the Artebois Military Academy.
The Academy was a hard adjustment for Sabine- while a gifted pilot and a decent academic, her instructors always found her a little difficult to control, a little too foolhardy and eager for a fight. Despite these setbacks, Sabine graduated from the Academy with high marks and was assigned her desired role: Pilot.
The next several years would see Sabine deployed to various fronts along the Frontier Worlds, holding back the inexorable tide of Aberrants. She'd discover that, unlike the holos, the war against the Aberrants was not nearly as glamorous and exciting as she'd originally thought it to be. On her first sortie, half of her unit was destroyed, and she'd barely made it through her second sortie alive. The horrors of war broke the spirits of many rookies, but somehow Sabine managed to keep her sanity in spite of what she'd witnessed. She proved to be a natural, regarded as a top performing apprentice by her peers by the end of her first tour, and an ace by the end of her second.
During her third tour of duty, Sabine would earn some noteriety for both her recklessness and her daring prowess. During the Siege of Cerol, a garden world in the frontier region, the planet came under surprise attack by a massive number of Aberrant forces. The sheer speed of the assault caught the MHA Fleet in orbit around the planet with their pants down, and a vicious fight ensued. During the opening stages of the battle, Sabine's squadron leader was shot down, along with their Constellation as they were overwhelmed by large numbers of Aberrant forces. Managing to rally the remains of her squadron, Sabine would regroup with another depleted squadron and their surviving Constellation and go on a counter offensive. Running out of ammunition in most of their weapons, the remaining pilots would scavenge the destroyed bodies of their comrades, using the cores within the mech husks as impromptu bombs to hurl into groups of Knights, managing to clear a path for the Constellation to assault the Bishop. Against the warnings of her squadmates, Sabine flew in the direction of the dying Bishop to extract the Constellation from the collapsing Aberrant and the remaining Knights around it. Though finishing the battle heavily injured, Sabine would earn a commendation of valor for her efforts.
Now on her fourth tour of duty, Sabine brings her skills and devil-may-care attitude to the next front, kitted out with the latest in next-gen mech technology- courtesy of Dassault Aerospace.
Home World
[Planet Description] Arbetois is a boreal planet in the Serpent's Eye system in the heart of the Core Worlds. Artebois has overall cool temperatures, its warmest regions near the equator about on par to Earth's more temperate climates, with the vast majority of the planet featuring boreal or subartic climates. Depending on who is asked, Artebois is either 'blessed' or 'plagued' by both megafauna and megaflora in vast quantities, the forests of its northern and southern hemispheres filled with trees the size of buildings, with creatures and animals often reaching the size of vehicles or larger. Vast mountain ranges and gorges in the central areas of the planet allow for easier access to the planet's considerable natural resources. The vast majority of the planet's population centers are built within or nearby the equator belt, with more remote settlements hidden deep within the cold forests. The twin moons that orbit the planet are covered with all manner of factories and production plants, with only small amounts of industry still found on the planet proper these days.
[Culture] Artebois holds history as one of the earlier Core Worlds to be settled when humanity began expanding beyond the Milky Way. Steeped in an old tradition of hunters and gatherers, from it's earliest days the people of Artebois utilized mechs to both clear the land of dense and titanic foliage and to hunt and defend themselves from massive beasts. As a result, it is not uncommon for denizens of the planet to be proficient- or at least familiar with the use of mechs. Unsurprisingly, Artebois attracted the interests of corporations and companies capable of building and maintaining these machines, eager to exploit the bounty of raw materials the planet held. Artebois- or more specifically it's moons are now one of the largest manufacturers of mechs and mech parts in the Core Systems. While the people nowadays put an emphasis on industry and manufacturing as opposed to their old hunter/gatherer ways, they still maintain a somewhat cautious respect for nature.
Notable Contacts
[Name] Sera Dassault-Delacroix
[Relation to Subject] Sister
[Analysis] The current Chief Engineer of the Dassault Aerospace R&D Division, for the Core Systems branch, and local company representative. Like her sister, Sera has always had an interest in mechs, though unlike Sabine who likes to fly them, Sera's interest lie more in the creation of them, and is a talented inventor and mechanic. She's constantly tinkering on equipment and is knowledgeable enough about even the most obscure models of mech to perform maintenance and repairs on them, though obviously she prefers to work with Dassault models.
A large producer for the war effort, Dassault mechs make up almost 20% of all of the mechs seen on the frontlines, and have a reputation for reliability and performance. The current flagship design of Dassault is the versatile DTX-101 Chevalier, and its variants. Directly improving upon the Chevalier, Sera spearheaded the development and creation of the DTX-103 Wyverne, a next generation mech trooper and a marked improvement over the original frame, emphasizing mobility and striking power. Unfortunately, the Wyverne has been slow to mass adoption and currently only sees use with elite units, squadron leaders, and those with special privileges, on account of its rather high production costs. Sera was quite disappointed when Sabine 'took her baby' and promptly damaged it on its first sortie.
Though she prefers solid land, Sera can make do with most available workspaces if given the time or resources. Though not military herself, she is currently attached to the same unit as her sister as a representative engineer from Dassault to maintain and gather combat performance data on Sabine's Wyverne.
[Name] Solomon 'Dunkirk' Howe
[Relation to Subject] Wingman- on and off duty
[Analysis] Somewhat unflappable in the face of Sabine's constant comments, the two were assigned to the sortie a while back and perhaps due to the nature of their equally aggressive and foolhardy flight tendencies, quickly became fast friends- at least according to Sabine. Howe is a quiet, somber sort of guy, and for some reason makes an excellent drinking buddy. Constantly attempting to get a rise out of him, Sabine regularly pulls Solomon along with whatever antics she feels up to at any given time, and can usually expect him to follow along- if grumbling the whole way. In a way, Sabine finds the constant grumbling endearing- plus, dragging him along means she never has to drink alone.
[Name] Alto 'Eight-Ball' Valenti
[Relation to Subject] Squadmate, Rival??
[Analysis] Sabine met Alto during long haul escort mission across space, the two attached to her family's convoy- Alto to test the flight capabilities of his machine, and Sabine to make sure nothing actually went wrong with the journey. Being relatively similar in age, and without any action to speak of, the two quickly became friends- more specifically, Alto quickly became the regular target for most of Sabine's teases and taunts, his reactions to which helped keep her entertained for the entire trip. A bit like a younger sibling, Sabine finds Alto both easy to get along with, and occasionally aggravating. While often surprised with his capabilities, Sabine is also quick to point out the younger pilot's lack of experience, and though she won't say it out loud, she occasionally worries about his safety. Interestingly, Valenti looks not too dissimilar to a famed Constellation of the same name, though lacking much of the fame and dashing looks. While Alto failed to answer directly when asked, Sabine suspects a familiar connection.
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