Lancer: No Room for a Wallflower (IC)

[n0ble]

5014 AU-Spring

The deck of the light carrier is warm and humid, a welcome change after the dry cold of stasis. Dim, recessed lighting glows a gentle amber, letting your eyes gradually adapt to seeing once more. The stasis headache is a miserable bastard – you’ll have to reassess your hydration cocktail, shout at the autodoc for that one, maybe box him one or two to make sure he’s functioning properly – but tea and a seat will help.

For now, you are the only ones awake on this deck. You’re the only ones needed awake. The artificial dawn is yours to enjoy. You pad barefoot from your roomette to an observation blister, find a couch, and sit. The dome above you populates, the void of space blooming across an opaque hexagonal field like ink dropped on a blank page.

Space. You and yours-the team-sit alone amidst functional semi-gimballed couches, the vacuum of space projected through the translucent glass. Your gut twists and the old fear sends a bolt of adrenaline to the back of your throat, but it passes; you know you’re still inside the observation blister. A jade and white disk hangs on the velvet field above you.

Hercynia. Big as a dinner table. But not for long.

What do you know about the place? Not much, and the packet was slim: early testing ground for the mechanized chassis, hostile local fauna, isolated for centuries before being forgotten, rediscovered and snapped up by a high-risk firm with a few other colonies under its belt. Apparently there was a local indigenous population that the on-the-rise colonists didn't know about, which led to some legal tangle between SSC and Union.

A mess, in other words. An emerald mess.

The ship to plays the sound of rain, cut with the odd rumble of reassuring thunder. You lay back upon the couch, tea on your chest – it’s still a little too hot – and float, surrounded by stars mad . You’ll be there in a few days. Systems organic and synthetic cycling to life. Some of you might not return to this little ship. Maybe you’ll die down on that world.

But right now you have the sound of rain. The hush of broad fronds rasping against their neighbors. The background hiss of air. The comfortable gravity. Peace.

Your slate pings in your pocket. The amber light floods the periphery of the blister. Your aurals hum a notification tone.

Ah well. Time to go to work.


You would all know: the ship your on is Union Navy-designated as the Oneiric Coenobite. Its essentially a transporter that loads up on various crisis teams and deposits them at.in whatever site they’ve been designated to assist in. The ship then moves on to the next hotspot in Union conflict. You would know that Union has stored all of your things on-board-there's a locker room with all your pilot equipment complete with a genetic-lock.

The expectation is to rendezvous with the colonial elements planetside and get briefed on the situation. You don’t have your mechs with you once you’ve made planetfall you’ll utilize the 3D printer to create your mechs on-surface. The colony knows your arriving, they’ll be sending out a landing party to welcome you/coordinate your arrival.

The colony’s name is Evergreen.

[Seanfall]

Ezra Strachen had his feet up on the couch in the roomette, when the alert came in his dataplating lit up and threw up its HUD. The man sighed and switched off the notice, he sat up and took another sip of his tea. Before finally standing and grabbing his coat. Even after finding a place in Union, the consummate pragmatist still wore the same types of clothes he always had. He wasn't a pencil pusher, no point in wearing fancy clothes if their gonna get covered in mud, blood, and god knows what else.

He made his way to his equipment locker and pressed a hand against the Genetic-Lock, once it opened he grabbed his kit. Which included an assault rifle and a few clips. He left the weapon unloaded for now but slung it around his shoulders. "Time to get this **** started."

[Alteiner]

Ignis Kye-Fei sat, one leg crossed over the other, nodding his head to the music streaming from the dataslate in his pocket through aural augments in his ears, steaming cup of tea held between his fingertips as he watched the artificial dawn over distant Hercynia. It was probably the greenest planet he’d ever seen. The information the team had gotten from their CO had been thin: Corpro-state colonial interests, potential indigenous human population, extant on-world infrastructure throwing out comms radiation. In a word, it was a tangled mess. It seemed that the troubles into which Union insisted on sticking its nose only got more and more complicated as one got closer to the Galactic Core.

The Atlas line was the furthest he’d ever come from home. Last year, it had been the Altai, and the year before, the Sierra Madre. Each year, the orders of his overseers brought him further and further from the Long Rim; never to Cradle itself, but always deeper into Union space. Growing up, Kai had heard stories of the inner reaches of Union space that made it sound almost magical, of technologies and wonders that natives of the Rim could scarcely imagine. Reality, as he had learned, rarely if ever lived up to the stories. The systems closer to the Galactic Core were more plentiful, more prosperous than those closer to the outermost reaches of civilization, sure, but their nature in relation to the galaxy around them did not change; a hundred-thousand tiny pinpricks of light, swallowed whole in a gulf of fathomless darkness. The heat and hydration from the tea did wonders to quiet the pulse of pain at the front of head. Two months of near-light travel in stasis between blinkgate jumps, and how much time had he skipped over in realspace? How much over the last four years? Days? Months? Years? Such was the life of a Cosmopolitan, he supposed.

Kai clicked his tongue when his music was cut off by the ping from his slate. Time to prepare for planet-fall already? What he wouldn’t have given for a little shore leave before diving into his next job. This one was going to be a long one. Hopefully, it would be his last as a Union auxiliary. One more year, and he’d return to the battlefield as an Ungrateful.

“No rest for the wicked, I guess.” Kai finished his tea and made his way to his equipment’s locker. His hardsuit, part of Smith-Shimano’s Chrysalis line, compressed onto him, servo motors and synthesized powered muscle fibers roaring to life, until it fit him like a black-and-gunmetal glove. Over that, he donned an ankle-length cross-zip coat. His belt held the holster for a high-calibur handgun (caseless ammo and a magnetic propulsion mechanism ensured it would fire even in the vacuum of space). The gun was joined by its partner, a hand-forged curved sword from the Terashima enclave, auspicious rope charm dangling from its hilt. He slung the sword’s sheath over his shoulder and pulled up his hardsuit’s HUD, double-checking its system readouts to make sure everything was functioning correctly. Rules of engagement all but ensured his arsenal would go unused, but one could never be too careful. “Alright. Planetfall awaits.”

[bc56]

Ugh. Cryosleep is always the worst. Ransome's never sure if anyone is watching while he sleeps. He plugs into the omninet and checks the security recordings for anything unusual, and, once satisfied, unplugs again and heads to the locker. He suits up. Lightweight hardsuit, GMS manufacture. Orange stripes on grey. A quick diagnostic check using his implants, everything nominal. Then a cloak, dark green seems appropriate for this occasion, given that it's a jungle out there. Last, he picks up his weapons. First, his shotgun, short-barreled, gunmetal grey, all function and no form. He collapses down its stock and attaches it to his hardsuit. Next, the spear. A thin cylinder of alloys, sharpened to a deadly point. The perfect weapon to keep enemies at arm's length. Last, he takes up an array of needles, the emergency stims he relies on when he needs a boost.
He toggles up the comms suite on his subdermal dataplating, and sends out over the net. "We're here. Any idea what we're being called to this backwater for?" Something about the planet's history strikes him as odd. Why would they need to test early mech chassis on such an out-of-the-way place? SecComm did some strange things, but not without reasons. At the same time, he pulls up his designs for Python and starts making some tweaks. The jungle environment isn't going to treat it well in its current state.

[technoRomancer]

A choking snort came from one corner of the room, where an entire couch had been claimed by a heap of half-assembled machinery. A disembodied robot arm roughly smacked the back of its sole living occupant as she wiped cold tea from her chin. By the number of abandoned beverages scattered around her area she'd already been at this a while, and it was apparent she'd forgotten which one was the most recent. Her slate pinged for the third time, sounding increasingly insistent. Her brush with asphyxiation had broken her focus enough that she finally registered it - along with the presence of the teammates who had slowly been filtering in and gearing up. "Oh. Uh."

Mikka blinked owlishly for a few seconds, winding down from her mechanic's fugue. With a start she pulled down the half-mask resting on her forehead and quickly scanned the unread messages that had accumulated. She realized she'd been sitting in the same position long enough her legs had fallen asleep, and awkwardly stretched them out, grimacing in anticipation of the pins and needles to come. She might have gotten up sooner at least to relieve herself at some point, but she'd made the mistake of not bothering to take off her hardsuit after its systems check and that had made it easier to just keep working. At least she'd saved herself the trouble of having to struggle back into it now. Currently its upper half was unfolded around her hips, its mismatched appearance cobbled together from standard licenses and her own custom components, mostly in matte gray. Revealed where it opened was a black sports bra and pale skin covered in equal parts freckle and ink. It left little to the imagination, but on the other hand there was little there to imagine in the first place.

Looking down to study the object in her lap for a moment, Mikka sighed dejectedly. "Guess the rest of the mods'll have to wait till after the op. It's... done enough?" It was a mech-scale multitool, a hefty device made for cutting, welding, and prying apart heavy components. Or as she liked to call it, The Spork. It seemed like she was mostly muttering to herself, but several of the disassembled drones perked up around her, or tried to.

"I will conduct a post mortem examination of the experiment and tell you what it died of," a male voice chimed from several speakers, before the somewhat nightmarish disarray of limbs and other moving parts settled back down into the heap.

"You're right... we won't know how it handles in the field until we try it." Mikka nodded agreeably, then did something to the tool that folded it in on itself until it was roughly the the length of her forearm and placed it against the thigh of her suit, where it secured itself. Casting around for a stray rag, she gave her hands a halfhearted scrub and tossed it into the pile of parts before finally acknowledging the other people in the room. "So! Um." Her voice cracked a bit, hoarse from long disuse, but she didn't trust the tea anymore. "Still got awhile before the Oncey drops us off. I don't know anything about Hercynia that wasn't in the dossier, but I've been to my share of colonies with growing pains. Most folks resent outside interference even if their bigwig'sre the ones who called us in. In my experience it can't hurt to bring a housewarming gift with us?" She sounded unsure - not of her advice, but of how seriously it might be taken.

[Volthawk]

At this point, cryosleep was something Tobias had gotten quite familiar with. Service as an auxillary had pretty much defined his life so far, and that meant a lot of travelling. It still wasn't pleasant, but nonetheless, it was a familiar kind of unpleasantness. He planned on staying the distance with the Union Navy and the auxillaries, so spending lots of time asleep was something he'd made his peace with. This was the life he'd chosen, so he was going to excel at it the best he could.

Walking to his locker, after pulling on the Navy uniform he normally wears (the team's role didn't technically require them to wear the uniform, and while the others took advantage of that he still preferred to wear it, even if most people on the ground wouldn't see it under the suit or the mech), the first bit of his gear he picks up is his shotgun, a old, heavy thing cut down to serve as a sidearm. He'd brought it along with him when he left his homeworld to take an interstellar Auxillary contract, and the old girl hadn't failed him yet. Not that he had much reason to use it, most days, but having it on his side was never unwelcome. After a moment of remembering, he puts the gun back down, since he needed the hardsuit, an armoured powered suit that was rather larger and heavier than the suits of his peers. He was told that it incorporated some pretty advanced biomechanical elements. He didn't know how it worked, exactly, but it meant it did a lot of the maintenance and repair work itself and hooked into him for power - convenient in some ways, but it meant he always felt pretty hungry after a period of particular activity. On one shoulder was the suit's missile launcher, a relatively unobtrusive and innocuous rectangular bulge for now, the nastiness popping up when needed, but a bit of extra firepower that sometimes came in handy - when trouble did come, it rarely came in a nice small easy to manage way.

In response to Ransome's question, Tobias shrugs. "Know as much as everyone else, but things must be escalating on the ground if we're being brought in. Auxillaries don't just resolve legal disputes." He sighs. "Gut tells me this place is going to be trouble. Sounds like the kind of place where two sides are shooting at each other, neither one wants you there getting in the way of their fun, and you can't do anything without Union disapproving." Mikka's suggestion gets a little thought, before another shrug. "Got any ideas? If it might be useful, it's worth bringing something along. Might not use it, but having the option won't hurt."

[DoctorFaust]

Robert jerks upright at the alarm chime, having fallen asleep somewhere during the hours-long approach to Hercynia. He blinks as he tried to process the alarm and chatter around him through the cobwebs of sleep before a few swigs of tea brings his brain back up to speed.

Moving more quickly now, he swings himself up and stretches, his joints popping from stiffness from the cryosleep and his nap. As he walks to his equipment locker and begins to retrieve his hardsuit, he joins in the speculation. "It could be a lot of things. Conflicts between the colonists and the indigenous people, SecComm experiments gone rogue, newly discovered megafauna wrecking havoc, rats that have gained sapience and built their own mechs. I just hope the Evergreen officials that called us in will actually tell us the truth." Robert looks sideways at Mikka and pauses, considering her words. "I don't know. I feel like the planet I grew up on would see that as condescension, but that's a smaller sample size than you have. Do we even have anything aboard to take down as a gift?"

[n0ble]

Multiools. Shotguns. Hardsuits. Loaner EVA-gear for those of you that don’t have it. The silence that follows in the wake of you all donning your things answers any questions you might have: what you’ve packed is what you’re bringing with you. Just when the quiet gets a bit too awkward, a pleasant monotone voice sounds out “Please don EVA suits. “ Upon reflection there is, perhaps, just a hint of authority behind that pleasantness.

A notification sound byte rings out from everyone’s slates. There is a simple dual-tone, familiar to all of you: Union’s briefing package sounding off in time with your departure. However its displayed, a quick check at whatever ominet address each of you has logged with Union reveals the following message from your direct CO:

“Greeting Lancers,

Receiving this message indicates that you are soon to depart for Hercynian atmosphere. The planet should be visible via the observation blister now. The following message constitutes the extent of Unions knowledge as to goings-on planetside.

From what we’ve been given to operate with, Hercynia was an old field testing facility under SecComm control. It was once subject to a widespread and catastrophic SecComm expeditionary campaign. Our extent details on the situation is scare, but building from what has been recovered from the old Union Colonial Mission indicates that the Second Committee mounted a handful of similar campaigns against resistant populations. Radiations. Distress signals. Encrypted communications. These sorts of SecComm pacifications methods will almost certainly account for some of the local infrastructure your going to see down there.

Speaking of local infrastructures, from what we’ve been told, Landmark Colonial elements-theColony itself is called Evergreen-have encountered and engaged in skirmishes with hostiles insurgents planetside and things are poised to get even more bloody if a mediator isn’t brought in. To that end, your current assigned set of objectives is simple: by now you should have received clearance from Evergreen to land and convene with their elements on-ground. Do so, and integrate into the local colonial hierarchy. I’d like to personally amend this with the following”-

You can practically hear whoever wrote this clearing their throat-

“-remember that you are acting as Union’s representatives in this conflict first, comport yourselves appropriately, preserve life to the best of your abilities and seek peaceful resolutions to conflicts.

I have all faith that you will do the best job possible,
Liaison Lt. Christina Hamlin, UDoJ/HR”

A second, sharp chime sound indicates clearance from one “Edena Ji”, colonial Attaché and Second COO of Evergreen, to arrive on Evergreen soil. Mapping data arrives along with the notification to corroborate the landing zone for your dropship, as well as a rough window of time where Evergreen militia are expected to convene with your team. Another burst of chimes indicates that the correct flightpath,vectors and decelerations data have been matched to Evergreen's location-uploaded to the dropship's autoflight in time with each of you getting clearance.

Once you’ve all donned the appropriate EVA gear, some hidden signal causes the exit from the observation blister to open, sliding into the wall without so much as a hiss. The way before you is simple: the spartan inside of a landing craft all of you passed through on the way to the stasis units. The more tech savy amongst you easily recognize it as a remote pilotable dropship, one capable of limited atmospheric entry. Two rows of fold down crash seats great you, three-wide. Each has a bright, cant-miss-it port for individual hard suit oxygen. For when the dropship disconnects from the larger ship feeding it oh-two. Just as well. The first step in reveals the dropship isn’t pressurized. Storage space has clearly demarked dimensions: the walls and flooring have special areas one may grip to reveal the cargo space built-into theses areas. The dropship ceiling has a web of netting spread across the top as more storage, like digital grey canopy. This carrier is clearly a pass through. It drops you where you go. Refuels, performs a flight check, and takes off the next day after you land: the light carrier that brought you to Hercynia, correctly named by Mikka as the Oncey, has other stops to make, and will return in a year.

Below,Hercynia turns. What was once jade is now cut with blue: a strait divides the continent your viewing from it’s as of yet unrevealed sister-landmass. If the data included with the briefing packet is any indication, that other continent-the western one-is your destination. Evergreen. Its easy to see why they’d give the colony a name like that with the view you all have. But until you get down their its just another ping on the slate.



If anyone needs EVA gear for the dropship, Union has provided some.

Broadly speaking you wouldn’t be expected to bring a gift of some sort nor would there be anything really with you on the drop ship outside of personal gear that’s gift-able. However, there are definitely facilities on-ground to make one in Evergreen once you’ve made planetfall if that’s something y’all want to pursue during out of mission free-play/downtime, and there are definitely NPCs who’d appreciate it as well :smallsmile:

Otherwise the expectation for now is largely to just make contact according to what your CO has outlined-its going to be a few hours in-game heading down to the surface, but that will put you down late afternoon on the western continent, designated as Solo Terra in Edena Ji’s clearance notification.

[Seanfall]

Ezra watched the rest of the team file in one by one, Lancers were all individuals. They all had their own story a reason for being here, for ending up in a Mech and excelling at it. He suppressed a chuckle, half-listening to them talk. When the time came he removed his coat and jacket and slipped into his light hardsuit and sealed it. He slipped his coat back on over top of it but stowed his jacket and the rest of his kit in the compartments. "For anyone not used to atmospheric re-entry...well it'll be entertaining for the rest of us."

Ezra took his seat and connected his hard suit to the O2 supply, switching on his Dataplating he watches some minor info from the nearby net scroll by. This place reminds me of home. The older man looked out at the world and let his thoughts drift to the past for a few moments.

[technoRomancer]

"Sadly my access to, uh, psuedo-sanctioned resources ain't what it used to be. But I'm sure we can figure something out planetside. Get to know our hosts a bit, see what I can whip up from what's on hand. Uh, metaphorically speaking... probably..?" Mikka stood, stretched, then flicked her mask, eliciting a beep of protest from it. The upper half of her suit began to rise from its relaxed state, and she struggled into it as it clacked together around her, plates sliding seamlessly into place around the mask. "Time to go to work, Kaboodle!" The mess she'd left behind on the couch trembled ominously before most of the disparate parts somehow kludged themselves together into a single drone. The robot shoved the rest of the pile into a dilapidated duffle and hefted it as it rose unsteadily to hover behind Mikka. "Thanks, buddy."

"Then we came forth, to see again the stars."

"You said it, Boods." Flipping an armor-padded half-cloak over one shoulder, Mikka marched into the landing craft, turning to walk backwards for a few steps as she passed Ezra. "Take care, Oncey! Keep it cool!" With a friendly salute, the engineer stowed herself and her gear, gloved fingers tapping idly against her legs as she waited for launch, taking in the interior of the craft briefly. "I dunno Ez, this lander looks pretty stock, and Union takes care of its gear. Probably gonna be a boring... uh, smooth, a smooth drop?" she hastily amended, realizing belatedly that he'd been joking.

[bc56]

Ransome activates the vacuum seal on his hardsuit and steps into the dropship, belting in. While reentry wasn't pleasant, he's done it enough times. This world on the other hand... Ezra might be reminded of home, but Ransome's home has always been more of an urban jungle. Hopefully this "Evergreen" city would be large enough. Decent facilities would make his job a lot easier. He frowns at Mikka's cheery demeanor and her drone. Something about that scrap-metal critter gives him the creeps. He feels like it's watching him, and not in a good way. But he's not going to mention it. "Looks like a pretty normal situation, at least. Natives and colonists are at odds, we need to make peace somehow. Just need to get to the root of the issue." Worst comes to worst, the problem won't be solved except by completely neutralizing one side. But hopefully that can be avoided. He double-checks that he's in a secure position, and that he has all his gear. Weapons, check. Stims, check. Just in case, he loads the syringes into a compartment on the arm of his suit. If he needs them, they're right there now. And he can always take them out if he needs to give them to someone else. With that done, he waits for the descent to start.

[Alteiner]

Kai could not help but roll his eyes reading the message from their CO. “Hostile insurgents,” huh? Was that what they were calling an indigenous population these days? He supposed they could’ve been pirates, searching the planet for old military installations to strip down. In fact, he silently hoped that was exactly what these “insurgents” were. Taking out one pirate crew and spending the rest of the year on shore leave certainly would’ve been less of a headache than brokering peace between a corporate colonization force and the people who were already living there and waiting for Union DoJ/HR to make a ruling that would almost assuredly satisfy no one.

He affixed the O2 feeds on his mask to his suit, and his suit to the ship’s air feed. His helmet’s components rose from his suit and formed around his head to protect him from the pressure changes before the dropship could descend. It would be a year before he’d set foot on the Oneiric Coenobite again, assuming he didn’t die on Hercynia.

“It would be nice if it were a smooth drop.” Kai said, setting himself down on one of the crash seats. “You don’t normally get green this dense on a planet without a serious monsoon season. Come here at the wrong time of year and, depending on atmosphere density, ionospheric weather could make planetary descent pretty bumpy.” Geomagnetic storms had been a serious problem on especially heavily-forested world on the Dawnline Shore where he’d fought. Even after repairing the destroyed comms infrastructure, his team was lucky to get a missive from the rest of their cell more than once every couple months. “Even in the worst case, walking around planetside will be worth a little turbulence.”

[DoctorFaust]

Robert sets his helmet in place and locks it with a hiss of seals engaging before he follows the group into their dropship. His rifle gets collapsed down and stowed before he gingerly lays his trusty old revolver and a satchel of frag grenades on top of it. Pondering the situation as he hooks himself into the drop seat and O2 hoses, he silently hopes that it isn't pirate activity, and that the insurgents, if that's really what they are, are able to be reasoned with. And that they really don't have access to old SecComm prototypes that might have been left lying around the planet.

"Oh, you were one of those people?" he jokes to Mikka. "I would ask if you ever had your drone let you out of cryosleep to continue the grand tradition of there being a still on every ship in the fleet, but I'm not sure I'd like the answer."

[Volthawk]

Tobias is mostly quiet during the dropship ride, considering the briefing and what they might be facing and letting the others have their back and forth. It was good to see that they were figuring each other out - he couldn't escape that bad feeling that he had about this, and he suspected they'd need to have each other's backs even more than normal down there. He didn't like how spotty the information they had was. Not just the past, while that was not ideal it was understandable, but he didn't like how vague the details of the current situation was. Skirmishes with insurgents could mean anything, given how 'insurgent' was the kind of word that just told you what the speaker thought about them, not anything actually useful about them.

Ransome's comment about the mission gets him to speak up about his thoughts. "I can see some complications coming. We'll need to figure out who the sides are first. Sounds like we have two possibilities for who's opposing the colonists. Could be people descended from SecComm, could be the original natives that they failed to wipe out." He pauses. "Could be both. Could even be someone we don't know about who found the place while it was lost. Each would need a different approach. Particularly if they've found something SecComm didn't take with them, or the colonists haven't secured all their gear." He shrugs. "Not to mention getting the colonials to stand back and let us do our job. Be careful around them. Unlikely to start shooting us, but they have their agendas. Particularly if they have any corpro types down there. Keep your eyes open and watch your backs down there."

[n0ble]

Ground Party

Ensconced in the two rows, your suits register the switch to the drop-ship's oxygen drip. The view of Hercynia is much unchanged from the observation blister, though perhaps a bit closer for the drop-ship poking out from the Cenobite's main hull. The oxygen is crisp, if a bit stale with the taste of having been stored. The same monotonic voice as before sounds off with a "Please ensure you assume the optimal position for take-off. Departure for Evergreen-Solo Terra-Hercynia will commence in
Five
Four
Three
Two...

One." There a small bumping sound that grinds its way through the hull of the drop ship as the maglocks disengage the. For a few more seconds the ship hangs weightless in the void, drifting farther and a little farther still so that its engines dont score the Cenobite in the wake of your descent. Then the familiar cosmic pull sensation lodges itself in your guts: the engines have started, and several lights on the com/con.nav unit just under the viewport flash with computed telemetry data that signifies you flight path has been plotted out.

Your away to Evergreen. To Hercynia.



Several Hours Later (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pP1QXKbhqr4)

The deck rumbles beneath your feet, and for the first time you hear the howl of wind shear as the autoshuttle breaches Hercynia’s thick atmosphere. Seen through a condensation-streaked porthole, the world below is an emerald smear, scarred by ragged tears of black and brown. Patches of gray cloud cover speak to the months-long rainstorms that plague the surface.

“Thirty minutes remaining.” The flightcom’s voice in your ear, unaffected by the turbulence, comfortable back aboard the ship. “Please leave your helms on for now. Cabin remains pressurized. Turbulence is a factor –please keep your helmets on to avoid cerebral trauma.”

The radio clips off. The cabin lights flicker from an especially hard knock, then the wind shear dies down, and the howling engines settle to a level cruising roar. The hiss of air through your helmet subsumes all other sounds.

Below, emerald Hercynia. Its quite the site up close: rain spackles the drop-ship's view ports as you pull in close to the planet's surface. Huge swathes of waxy green trees collect in a near omnipresent rainforest, one that briefly gives way to a vast sea of tall grass dotted with boulders before the swath of wet jungle continues onwards. If you squint hard enough you see it easily enough: those aren't boulders. They're the corpses of mech-suits. Some jut up half finished amidst the grass, limbs splayed or twisted beyond the their functions. Others still lie half buried up to the chest in earth and grass, like some sort of cairn to a great metal god. Those of you with magnification devices built into you EVAs can make out a feature that links all the chassis together: they're dotted with flowers. White petals. Purple centres. Then the vista passes soon as its registered, subsumed as you continue onwards into Evergreen territory.

Still, you catch a break. The rain gives way as the drop-ship advances and while the air doesnt exactly dry out more, sensors indicate that it the moisture content doesnt exactly increase either. The rear door of the shuttle drops and the humid Hercynian air rolls in, wet and warm.

The shuttle’s engines wind down to an idle, buffeting the tall grass that surrounds the landing area with a steady blast of heat-shimmer air. An update passes through your slates as to the reasons for this particular LZ. The most prominent one: the colony’s main landing bowl is out of commission today – flooding opened sinkholes under the pad. Whatever it is, the place you land appears to be a clearing hacked out the green for this very purpose.

A light, cool rain falls around you. Evergreen sits a kilometer away, backed up on the banks of a wide, muddy river. You can see the white-wrapped towers of its first apartment blocks, built but not occupied, and the low gray of the first-generation habitats crowding around their feet. In the dying afternoon light, the settlement’s street lights are steady beacons illuminating the colony’s borders. Beyond, the panorama disappears into the solid green of dense, temperate rainforest, and the gray of low clouds and fog, obscuring the rest of the valley.

A small group approaches the shuttle, weapons slung, the hoods of their dark ponchos held against the downdraft – representatives of the colonial militia. There are only ten of them, arranged in a ragged line, crouched low, scanning the waving grass and the treeline beyond.

“You the pilots?” shouts one of the soldiers. Their leader, judging by her kit: a thin armature exoskeleton, powered by a blocky pack from which a tall spray of antennae emerge. She carries a long anti- armor rifle held with the assistance of a mechanized tertiary arm. “Brava Hadura,” she says. Her blonde hair is cropped short, and while she has relatively young looking features that youth ends at her eyes. “Commander of the militia here. Glad you’ve finally arrived. Listen, we shouldn’t be outside the walls too long – there’s a sniper in the area.” Hadura looks around the waving grass, leery, hunched over her long rifle. “We should move – the bugs are good shots. And get that bird in the air. It’s an easy target on the ground.”

The troopers lead the way to Evergreen, splashing through the culverts that run on either side of the muddy road that leads to town. You follow, ducking under as the shuttle lurches up into the sky. You’re on Hercynia now, and will remain until the job is done.


Welcome to Hercynia everbody! Feel free to flashback to time spent aboard the drop ship/the journey down before you arrived on-surface as well. :smallsmile:

Also Picture of Brava Hadura to be linked to the images channel soon!

[bc56]

Ah, fresh air.
Not that Ransome can smell it through the hardsuit, not until he detaches from the shuttle's hoses and unseals the vents. Smells like water and mud. Not the environment he'd prefer, but he doesn't get to decide that anyway. He nods to the militia leader and unseals his own visor, revealing his face, bleary-eyed from long cryosleep, with wiry implants under his skin around his eyes and ears. "We are." The news of a sniper causes him to look around a little nervously. He's been under fire before, but he hates the idea of being spied on like that, where a bullet could go through his brainpan at any moment. He does note the word "bugs." An odd choice to refer to rebels. Maybe they have some local insect as a symbol? Or it could be a deliberate choice to dehumanize them. Either way, that can be worried about later, when there's no risk of a bullet in the brain.

[Seanfall]

Ezra spent the hours aborad the shuttle intermittently going over diagrams for upgrades to his drone, going over mission specs, and napping. When they made their final approach he snapped awake. He marveled at the massive mech corpses, some he fancied he recognized others were either too weathered to place or simply ones he had never seen. Once they finally landed he disconnected from the shuttle's O2 supply disentangled himself from his crash webbing. He slung his kit around his back and his rifle around his front. AFter Hadura had introduced herself he made sure to load a mag into the weapon.

"Bug's an odd choice of word, Hadura." He stepped out into the solid ground and savored the feeling of being on solid ground again. "You might have to explain that one," He nodded when Ransome confirmed their identities. "Yeap, straight from Union's barracks to all the galaxy's hotspots. Name's Ezra Strachen."

As they clipped along, Ezra activated his drone setting it to hover low until they had jogged a bit then it floated up and around in a spiral pattern. His plating lit up again and he shared the drone's view of the area. Always nice to have an eye in the sky.

[Alteiner]

The helmet of Kai’s hardsuit began depressurizing as the shuttle hatch hissed open and Hercynia’s air flooded the compartment. Stepping out onto the tall, thick grass surrounding the LZ, he took in the lush wilderness around him, his helmet’s flash suppressor filtering the worst of the UV from the sun. He disengaged his purifier mask and took in a breath. Fresh air sharpened his senses and all of the familiar feeling came back to him: the solid ground, the planet’s heat, the sounds of trees and grass and weather, the rush of life, the old scars of war, faded but not forgotten. He was starting to feel like himself again.

As Commander Hadura introduced herself and hurried them along towards Evergreen proper, Kai couldn’t help but appreciate the urgency. Better to get them behind city walls quickly so they could properly get to work.

“Ignis Kye-Fei, Union auxiliary, I guess. Good to meet you, Commander.” Kai briefly nodded while following Hadura and her troopers down the road, keeping an eye on the treeline for hostile activity. There wasn't really a "subtle" way to make landfall on a planet, and a shuttle touching down and taking off again was bound to attract some attention from anyone watching Evergreen. “While we’re on our way, what can you tell us about what the militia’s been dealing with? Given that gun you’re carrying, I’m guessing it’s a little bigger than rifle-toting infantry?”

[Volthawk]

Snipers from the word go. Yeah, this was going to be one of those missions. Times like this, Tobias was glad he wore one of the heavier hardsuits going. He doesn't add to the questions for Hadura as they move to cover - questions and getting a good lay of the land can wait until they're in safety. Not that the others weren't asking good questions, though. They'd picked up on the right details, at least. That was encouraging.

[DoctorFaust]

Once the shuttle lands, Robert straps his kit back on with economy of motion in mind before disembarking the shuttle. As the others begin to introduce themselves and ask questions as they walk, he stares around at the surroundings looking for movement or vantage points the sniper might've taken up. The rain and the overgrown forest around them make him grimace, thinking of all the extra maintenance he's going to have to do and possible ambush positions that these "bugs" might've set up before the question about enemy forces snaps him back to reality.

Robert Browning. Nice to meet you, Commander Hadura. Adding onto Ignis' question, if you know there's a sniper in the area, do you have any other information about their local force dispersion?

[technoRomancer]

The planet was interesting enough from orbit, but Mikka had seen plenty of worlds, green and wet or otherwise. Far more captivating was the graveyard of frames that swept beneath them, Kaboodle dutifully capturing what data it could from their limited perspective for later perusal. Somehow Mikka had managed to slip her restraints without setting off any alerts, faceplate pressed to a viewport, one of the drone's flexible camera-stalks slipping around her chin. She seemed unconcerned about the possibility of turbulence, secure enough against the webbing her gear was stowed in.

Once the team disembarked, she approached the commander, Kaboodle clipping itself to her back. Ezra was already sending his own unit out for an eye on the surrounds, so Mikka wanted to keep hers close, and with the threat of a sniper she didn't want to leave it a tempting target. She'd just finished recalibrations and it'd suck to start all over with replacement parts. The drone was mostly disposable and didn't actually contain Kaboodle, but still. "Mikka Kivinen. Combat engineer," she introduced herself, letting the boys rattle off a few questions regarding the sitrep before stepping back in for some small talk after the woman answered. "Fancy harness there, Brava, was it designed in-house?" she probed as they hustled towards the walls, wondering if the woman had any interest in talking shop or if her knowledge of such things was a soldier's, ending at how to use it.

[n0ble]

Brava Hadura leads your motley troop at a low, fast march. Well. Fast as the knee-high grass will allow for. The Militia Commander listens to each of your questions in turn, then replies to them one at a time. Ezra's comes first, a flaw of disappointment lodging itself in Haduras face. Definitley as much shame as she can allow, given how tense the situation is. "Bad term, Sir. This place used to be host to some form of xenolife. Years ago. You'll hear people say "Eggs", too." A bit more shame creeps through."Older folks-first gen colonists mostly-are entertaining the idea that its them behind the raids." she clearly pivots to Ignis and Robert's questions: "Attaché Ji and Patience-our administrator-"a little bit of tension creeps into her voice as she mentions the colony's NHP director."-should be able to fill you in more on them in terms of history. Nothing in their briefings about them piloting mechs though." She half-smiles as the ground under your boots becomes sodden. Gummed with mud.

As you get closer, Hadura's voice becomes more quiet. Something that could be mistaken for a dramatic pause occurs, then she resumes. "As of right now, we have some topography from meteorological satellites but all the lingering radiation, bush and the heat the bush is putting out its, hard to nail down specific microreactor heat signatures. Between that and the guerrilla tactics afforded by their mechanized infantry, exact hostile numbers have been hard to find. Attacks have been irregular in terms of timing. Theorys that its cells of some kind or teams. The sniper, for example." She pauses again and this time its not shame thats lodged in her face but something a bit more haunted. Your Lancers. You've seen it before. She's seen combat. "I can confirm they're-human ." A few more grunts of agreement from the other men with her. Stuck on the topic of mechanics, a bit of the grimness leaves Hadura's face as she ponder's Mikka's query. From the tone and inflection of her words, its easy to tell she's glad for the change of subject. Hadura's face brightens a bit. "Pretty snazzy, huh? I can't take the credit for this piece though, nor this peashooter here," she punctuates the words by engaging the tertiary arm and raising the barrel of her gauss rifle a little towards the sky. "But I'd be happy to introduce you to the man who did: First Gen engineer. Dont think Castor's seen an active mech in-action until the attacks started. Maybe as a blueprint though." Her smile becomes a bit bitter at the thought and she treks on in silence

Up close, Evergreen is a city brutalized by growth. The tall apartment blocks stand a dozen stories high, grime-streaked white monoliths wrapped in cling-tight plastic, looming above the low, mixed- material buildings. The colony is bordered by a low wall, buildings bulging right up against the barrier as if it were a waistline cinched tight by an unforgiving belt. Smoke drifts up from the dense settlement, blending with the low rain clouds.

The final approach to the city is through a clear and ugly cut, across a road made from metal plates sunken into the brick-red mud. Massive drones chew away at the forest as work crews gather and process the fallen lumber, organizing the fallen trees into tall, stripped piles.

The smell of sap and friction-singed wood is strong, increases as you approach further. Smoke drifts into the cool air from piles of controlled burns. Evergreen is growing. Brava Hadura leads the way into the settlement, waving away the defense drones that buzz toward you as you cross the cut. “We’ll get your particulars entered in our database,” Brava says, motioning toward the departing drones. They buzz away silently. Each is a small alabaster disk, of a common 3D-print make. “That way you can come and go without triggering the guns or drones,” she says. “Or the mines, once we get them planted.”

The troopers lead you into the muddy, churned streets of Evergreen, tromping across the soggy ground. There is little traffic to impede your progress; what people there are scurry from overhang to overhang, crouched over their bundles of goods to keep them dry.

Grimy prefab buildings crowd the colony’s mud- spattered blocks. Gutters burst with water. Power lines crisscross in thick bundles above the street, some hanging like black vines. Rain barrels have long since overflowed and spilled into the streets. You approach an intersection where a trooper waits, pressed to the wall of a two-story apartment building. The first floor looks to be shops – the wares on offer include local breads and other food‐ stuffs, judging by the signs painted on the closed metal grates – below a flat or two, their windows also shuttered. Brava Hadura leads the way, assuming a half-crouch that hunkers her down.

The trooper Hadura approaches has a large IX tattooed on his cheek. A massive pink scar-took healed to be anytime recent-crosses down across an eye and down the cheek opposite the IX, deep enough to reveal a bit of cheek bone glistening underneath. The eye is like a white belt-buckle, fogged over. A trio of what would be thin scars cross the man's lips, made deeper for their location. The trooper's armour has "PVT Novem" stencilled onto the side of one shoulder-guard. “Careful,” the trooper says in a parched-sounding whisper. There's an ugly pink-red scorch-a graze from laser fire-across the right side Novem's neck. “That sniper likes this street. Go fast when you cross.”



Welcome to Evergreen folks! If anyone had any other questions I figure we can just have them occur in flashbacks on the journey to where we are right now.

[Volthawk]

As Hadura tells them what she knows, Tobias nods thoughtfully. So the other side was nicknamed after an old danger the original colonists had to deal with? Tobias supposed that made sense, although the fact that the simple matter of their enemy beig human was debated was concerning. "So you haven't been able to learn anything about them? Unfortunate. Nice to know why you're about to get shot at. How did it start, at least?" Sure, his thinking tended towards direct solutions to problems, but at this point they didn't even know what the problem was, or who needed to be taken down to solve the problem - whether the colonists or...whoever these others were...were the people they needed to talk to in order to get things sorted here. Let alone the issues trying to fit what was already looking like a messy situation into the nice orderly box Union rules would want them to stay in. Yeah, they needed more information. One thought did cross his mind, though. "Would be useful to know what you've learnt about their mechs, though. One way or another, got the feeling they'll try to shoot us at some point."

During a quiet part of the march in, Tobias follows up that train of thought with a quick message sent to the other lancers through his dataplating. <We're going to need every bit of information we can. Stay observant, ask questions, but don't cause too much trouble. Yet.>

In Evergreen, Tobias doesn't find the location itself of much interest. Defenses looked pretty tight, and sounded like they were getting better, which was presumably why the trouble was mainly in the form of guerilla tactics rather than frontal assaults. He didn't expect to have to do much fighting in the settlement itself, though - from what they'd learnt of their tactics, he figured the team would probably mainly need their mechs once they got back out into the forest, something that they'd have to do for one reason or another. When they reach Novem, Tobias nods. "Understood."

[bc56]

Ransome finishes the cycle of introductions with his own, just before they move out. "Ransome Hitch. Communications specialist."

The next question comes just after Hadura has finished describing the enemy tactics. "Do they have print capability? Or are they refurbishing wrecks like the ones we saw on the way here?" A lot of mech corpses. If SecComm used the xenos Bravura described as test targets, they must have been pretty effective combatants to destroy so many. He can see why the old colonists might be afraid of them, like some sort of boogeyman. Regardless, those wrecks are an opportunity and a danger. They could have dangerous or useful SecComm prototype tech in them. And if the rebels rely on them for materiel, they could exploit that as a weakness.

Finally, the city. Not much to look at. And still under fire. Hopefully they can get to a printer and get mounted up quickly, otherwise this will be messy. Ransome tries to ping the local omninet. Maybe with access to some of the city's basic systems, he could make this dangerous journey a
little easier. At minimum, he'd like to at least get a map of the area so that the Lancers aren't relying on Hadura for navigation.

[Seanfall]

"If it's Xeno-life, then first contact here went to ****." Ezra however doubted it was that. Dissidents might be using the rumors to spread fear and doubt, nothing to fear like an enemy you know nothing about right? He glanced at his boots and the mud caking around it and snorted. His drone fed him visual information over his plating's HUD. Then the message from Tobias skimmed by. He read then deleted the message as quickly as possible.

He mostly listened along the way through, there we several questions he wanted to ask, none of which Hadura was likely to know or be high enough to answer. Once they reached Novem he whistled at the man's wounds but didn't say anything. He appreciated war wounds, but some were connected to very unpleasant memories. He rolled his shoulders as that thought made a gash along his side ache. He knelt next to Novem's hiding spot. "How long's this sniper been active? Do you know which direction the shots are coming from?" A better question would be why they haven't sent a kill-team to deal with the bastard.

[technoRomancer]

"Castor," Mikka repeated thoughtfully, committing the name to memory. Or, to be more precise, assuming Kaboodle would so she didn't have to. "I'll look forward to swapping notes, then." As they hunkered down and prepared to cross through the danger zone, a small frown was visible under her mask. "Has this sniper - have the insurgents been taking shots at civilians? Or just, uh, military targets?"

"shoots you with a beam that immediately takes effect" her drone intoned flatly. Those who spent any amount of time around Mikka had possibly noticed the nascent NHP's creepy talent for somehow managing to verbally convey a complete lack of punctuation or capitalization.

[Alteiner]

Xenolife? That didn’t make much sense. Kai had seen and heard of his share of otherworldly creatures, from the kraits that made their homes on stations to the cyclopean megafauna lurking beneath the ice sheets of Sparr. But what Hadura was describing, guerrilla tactics, firearms use, mechanized chassis operation, it was too clean, too organized to be a bunch of animals. Yeah, indigenous humans made more sense. Maybe, maybe tactical software operating during SecComm occupation responsible for running autonomous war machines was still active and recognizing Evergreen as enemy activity, but for something like that to still be operational after centuries without activity was, at best, a stretch.

Kai felt his spirits lift a little upon arrival at Evergreen proper. The land was pockmarked by industry: housing blocks, infrastructure, the din of humanity. It wasn’t a big colony, but it would be good to walk the streets.

“What’s our itinerary after we’ve been put in your database?” Kai asked, taking special note of what was apparently the sniper’s favorite street. “Much as I’d like to get right to work, I guess we’ll want to talk to your administrators as soon as they can make time for us. In the meantime, if we’re looking at a protracted conflict, we’ll need to take stock of resources, get the lay of the land, take in the colony a little. I’d imagine we’d get a lot of our questions answered with just a few days of observation.” They were going to be stuck on Hercynia for a whole year. Finding a way to get comfortable wasn’t priority one, but with that kind of time frame, it was pretty close to the top of the list.

[DoctorFaust]

Robert listens silently to all of the information Hadura supplies them with, mentally filing away names and places to recall later. The message from Tobias is similarly filed away and then deleted from his dataslate.

Once they reach the intersection the sniper has covered, Robert pauses for a second to take stock. He looks for any tall vantage points he can see from behind the building, noting them down on his slate before he opens his mouth. "Alright. Once we get briefed more fully by Ji and Patience, I'll see if I can take a crack at the sniper in the area. I have some experience with that sort of operation, and the less opportunities people have to strike civilian centers the better."

[n0ble]

Approaching Evergreen

You keep walking, Evergreen coming on ever closer and larger as you progress forward. And, for those that take notice, at a steady downward. The change in height is gradual, but enough. Those of you that would care to calculate the telemetries or have experience running sniper blinds would be able to tell: between the cover afforded by the jungle and the height of the lush hills surrounding the colony those walls ahead would offer little protection if the sniper decided to start firing into the the streets of Evergreen.

Brava adresses Ransom first"Ah so you saw those on your way in, eh?" she states in reference to the mechanized chassis graveyard you flew over after breaking down through Hercynia's atmosphere, "Wouldnt surprise me if it started out with just scavenging-there were definitely some field printers on those old mechs you flew over. Honestly-" she brushes a bit of rainwater from her forehead, releasing one of her hands from the gun's grip. It dips a little before the mechanized arm compensates with a slight squeak. "-its probably a bit of the latter now supplemented with the former, I've been told by our engineers that the two can definitely inform one another." She doesnt gesture along with these words. In fact her hand returns to her weapon. Her eyes flit from Mikka to Ransom.

She tactfully ignores Ezra's first comment before clearing her throat. " The sniper's been hitting us-Evergreen-for about the past week now. The attacks themselves though? About a month ago or so. Patience can tell you more, but they started proper targeting the Gray Towns. In terms of their attacks on us, really they've been concentrating on anyone outside our established perimeter, firing from a different location each time. Trying to wear us down." For a second she looks like she wants to point at the drones or maybe a work crew out from Evergreen on a job, then stops herself "-trying to stall the colony's progress, by Patience's reckoning. Kept our main elements good and pinned down while places like Merricktown cant get aid."

A sardonic grin comes across her face-"Been fighting the milita recently, though-" the smile is gone fast as it comes on,"-its been difficult responding when we have to split our focus between defending here and the Gray Towns. As such we've been largely left reacting to their tactics rather than swingin' out some of our own." She looks at all of you and allows herself a tight smile with some restrained hope behind it. "I'm hoping your arrival means that can change." Celarly she hopes you can make a difference where she and hers couldnt. A few grunts and nods of agreement from the militia around you answer this.

At any questioning looks or ones of confusion at the terms "Gray Towns" or "Merricktown", Hadura explains: "Independents-farmers. We call them Gray Towns because they're technically not citizens-so gray area with Landmark, right? Patience says the territories they occupy are lightly populated. But even so...I wish I could do more." She trails off, seemingly taking comfort in the silence rather than f

Evergreen looms larger. Brava wipes her forehead again, breaks her silence and speaks to Ignis "Once we get you past the outlying perimeters proper we'll get you squared away in terms of lodgings before Patience briefs you. Our west sides the least developed-local hab blocks are definitely the least populated-future generations'n all." She gestures to the left side of Evergreen-the west-where you can see the outline of ten-story high apartment complexes breaking up Evergreen's skyline. "I believe patience has made accommodations for you on the eastern side, but I'm sure they're amenable to giving you a place in the western residential area if you want." To the right-the east-you can see architecture thats much shorter. Buildings on the eastern side are barely visible over the wall, maybe 2 or three stories high compared to the tens of story buildings situated in the Evergreen's west. The entire right side seems more dense. More packed and developed with infrastructure if the number of buildings peaking over the wall are any indication.

You can trace a squat, prefab wall around the entire river. Tracing the water source to its origin,you can see that it flows east to west, from the strait to under the bridge your soon to cross. Beyond the tree line, mountains ripple the distant east, while the west is sprawling forrest not yet cleared. Another series of mountains comb north, a bruise low on the distant horizon. Gunmetal grey clouds have begun to build and flit in from the west

An awkward beat pauses, then Brava resumes, "Would you like to get your mechs printed before or after Patience and Ji's briefing? I'd offer to do it for you but I'd imagine thats something a Lancer likes to oversee themselves."



The Crossing

Cutting across the street will take you east. To the printer. To the briefing. To where you can rest up later. To the dense sprawl of humanity. Inside the walls things are somehow more and less thriving than the outside clear-cut. The streets arent vacant-not quite-but Evergreen is far from busy. A hushed, private sort of silence has filled the absences in the streetlife. People hug to the corners, shadows and blindspots of avenues, and any business you overhear sounds furtive, and done as if both the participants are harried. Like they just want to be done and inside where theres no jungle, and the only rain they have to hear comes from recorded or mixed audios. The atmosphere is clear, and easily readble as you all hunker down with Novem and Hadura: this is a colony trying to do its best while under siege.

The cross-section of shadow between Evergreen's prefab walls the apartment building you found Novem leaning on offers little in the way of comfort. Novem grunts and makes a few hand signal gestures at Hadura. The Militia commander does a quick hundred and eighty degree spot check, then nods. The plan is simple: including Hadura and Novem there are six militia troopers total. You'll cross in pairs, soldier & Lancer, straight across the intersection. East. From there hand signals wont do with explaining. Hadura's voice is hushed, like the sniper can hear her conversation with you. "Alright. This intersection takes up far enough east that we can cut down into the interior of Evegreen-we call it the "Governor's Farm"-I'm good with detouring if you all want to drop your stuff and get your mechs printed." Tension creeps back into her voice. Probably a sign of stress. "But lets just cross this street first, eh?"

[Seanfall]

Ezra had his drone float across from them weaving in and out of the buildings to avoid getting a bead drawn on it. "Sounds like a plan, Sniper's gonna take shots at us. No doubt about it. I'm not the only one with a drone right? If we set our's up in the right spots then with them and our own dataplates...I think we figure out where our sniper is after a shot or two...try to triangulate their location?" He wipes some sweat from his brow. "We'll decide what to do once we actually get across...I volunteer for the first pass. If I go down...I'm setting my drone to return to this location," Ezra eye swiped and brow clicked a few things from his HUD. "So whose the unlucky SOB going with me?"

[bc56]

Ransome replies to Hadura's assessment of the enemy hardware with an approving nod and another question. "Any unique or unusual capabilities? Helps to know what you're up against before it gets you by surprise."

"I'm for either way. Getting mounted up first means we have the hardware to deal with anything that might try to pick a dismounted pilot off. Getting the briefing first means we know what we're up against. Whatever you all think is best."

[DoctorFaust]

Robert racks the slide on his rifle and brings the feed from its telescopic sight up inside his helmet. "If you have anyone else like...Castor, right? More people like him that're technically proficient enough to monitor the print job, I'm frankly fine with starting Phlebas cooking and then going to get briefed. I really would like to get started after this sniper as soon as possible if they're as big a terror as you say they are, Hadura."

"I'll stay back in one of the last pairs to lay down covering fire if anything bad happens. Might at least scare the sniper a bit so they can't take followup shots."

[technoRomancer]

"Gotta be honest, I feel a lot better on any planet when I've got my hardware set. But I'm with Bob here, I'd rather not waste a lotta time on it and get a better idea of what we're dealing with ASAP. Kaboodle can handle the printing," Mikka jerked a thumb over her shoulder, where a manipulator arm raised itself and waved sharply, "he knows what I like and it's his ride as much as mine. I can tweak the loadout later." She eyed the militiafolk as Ezra prepared to cross.

[n0ble]

Brava nods at everyone, "Sounds good, here-" a small omninet ping hits your mail. Patience and Ji have been copied on it. -"We''ll stick Castor and the engies at the printer for now, if you want to 'net him some codes for printing. The printer's part of the same sort of hub that makes up the farm, so it shouldnt be too far to get you to your mechs after your meeting with admin." She squares up to all of you as the rest of her soldiers pair off. Brava smirks at Ezra, her face lightening for a second "Your with me Strachen. Straight forward to the briefing then, aye?"

She starts with Ezra at a dead sprint, running in parallel with him so that she's covering the side the sniper could shoot from. Each of her soldiers-the ones that accompanied you from the landing zone-do the same for you Lancer. One by one, in pairs you begin to cross. The sprint that each of you starts at is dulled into a stumbling trudge in its last few steps. Small wonder that this place tested mechanized chassis with 'ground' like this. A light rain sprinkles down through the air as clouds roll in while you cross, hazing the blue sky gunmental grey with condensation.

Its only when Robert and Novem, crossing last, are within a few steps of the next building's safety when the sniper attacks. To those of you watching it sounds like kinetic fire. The way it rattles with the promise of tenitus to come makes it feel like a kinetic shot carving the air to those of you listening. To Robert: its definitely kinetic fire. The attack cuts across the opening a scores shallow furrow across Novem’s back. Red mist billows out into the Private's wake. The actual kinetic round-a single bolt of light for how fast it travel- slugs into the mud with a massive splatter, scattering clods of dirt with a hiss of water as the sniper's shell makes contact with the earth. Novem grunts and doesnt so much fall as stumble once, twice, three times before coming to rest with you and the other soldiers, skidding to a halt in the mud. All hell breaks loose from the militia, who collapse into a series of yells before being all shouted down by Hadura:

"Sh!t" Hadura's curse rings out in the silence-and few spared glances to Novem -that follows the shot. "Covering fire, covering fire! Get-get Novem patched up and then 'em to the Farm, now!" She wheels away for a second, any mirth or good cheer replaced with something approaching grit-choked determination. She doesnt wait for confirmation from any of you, leaning out from cover and discharging a thunderous retort with her own oversized weapon. The cannon kicks in all three of her hands before ejecting a spent shell that sizzles in the mud. "-f*ck, need two milita, on me now for covering. Rest of you, out and over-now!"

The remaining four soldiers-five including a haphazardly bandaged Novem-hustle you past where you've taken cover and down the street. The streets are a bit less muddied the further you get in, giving way to chrome plating layered atop the muck. You make good time to the Farm. The sound of return gunfire hounds your exit, more than ensuring that any civillians in your path scatter from your path.

The governor's farm, a large, looming cluster of buildings caught halfway between functional and bureaucratic in appearance. Seemingly unguarded, the gate grinds open as you approach. A few scattered subalterns patrol the court‐ yard, their dull metal bodies beading with rainfall. They bear the planted-flag logo of Landmark Colonial and are painted in Landmark’s pale orange and blue livery. Crossing the courtyard remaining militia take Novem from you if any of you deigned to help carry him back. One of them-a pvt. Erickson, Jerk's his thumb at a squat building opposite a larger structure across the courtyard. "We'll can take him from here-armoury's there," the building Erickson's pointing to ", s'got a medbay we can try and get him through. Printers the big one on the other side and that," He points to what might be the most administrative-looking building in the whole urban cluster," Is the Governor's residence. We call it the Mansion. Patience is in there."

The bottom floor of the Mansion feels...sterile. Like its forgotten about the conflict outside its walls. At odds with the damp, muggy humidity that clings to your skin when outside in Hercynia's air. Like its being cycled through something. It probably is. A small round desk faces the doors that slide open for you as you move to enter the mansion, complete with a high backed chair that spins with something of an automated sound. A woman sits in the chair, her skin a deep brown. She is tall, her back taking up near most the entire length of the chair she occupies. Her hair is done up in a bun, all the more professional for her white attire and the crisp, white ceramic terminal that sits to her right on the desk. The fingers of on one of her hands flit across a tablet, a concerned expression on her face. She looks up as you enter and her some of the tension leaves her. The woman stands to meet you and extends a skinny hand to shake in greeting.

"Ah, you must be the Lancers. Edena Ji, chief operations officer and colonial attaché to Patience. Speaking of, the Administrator is on the third floor. He'll see you now, if you'd like." Her voice is pleasant and light. It rings out a little bit in the silence of the hall, accompanied by the muffled sound of rain beginning in earnest.


Feel free to cut to back outside the Mansion if theres still things you'd like to do before going in :smallsmile:

[Seanfall]

Ezra's plating lit up with data from his drone, it wasn't enough to find the sniper's location but he could guess. His rifle snapped up and he squeezed off a couple of rounds, despite being out-ranged it might at least force the sniper to give up their position. He put an arm around the wounded Novem and helped him to his feet, eye blinking his drone to follow. "Waited till the last group, wonder why?"

The lancer helped the wounded man make the rest of the journey, head on a swivel, expecting some kind of ambush. But nothing came, he felt his adrenaline start to wear off and his heart rate slow when they made it to the Governer's farm. He handed over Novem and nodded at Erickson's words. Just before entering the Mansion he looked the others in the eyes and nodded. The bottom floor of said mansion...drew a frown. Ezra paused a moment to look around, Guess it doesn't matter what planet your own. The rulers always like to feel better than those they rule. He shook his head and sighed, Right time to play diplomat.

He smiled at Edena Ji and after making sure his hand was clean took the hand she had offered and gave a genial shake. "Ezra Strachen, Union Lancer." He paused a moment in case anyone had anything they wanted to add or greetings to say. "If everyone's ready I think we'll take you up on that offer."

[Alteiner]

The gunfire flips a switch in Kai’s head. The thrum of energy on his skin and acrid stench of burning ozone from the air friction against the bullet sent a bolt of electricity up his spine. Seeing Ezra helping Novem to his feet, he nodded and hurried along while Hadura provided covering fire.

“We can think about that once we’re at the farm.” he fired back to Ezra’s question. Kai was no officer. The strategic significance of the sniper’s actions and position were less important to him than the question of how he and his were going to survive a fight with them. Part of that equation was their mechs. With six mechanized chassis to print, even assuming Evergreen had access to a Schedule-2 printer (itself an optimistic assumption), printing components and assembling all of their hardware would keep the printer occupied for close to half a day, more if anyone was using anything larger than an Everest. Even if the sniper itself didn’t necessitate any last-minute adjustments to any of their schematics, the threat of not being able to reverse their decision made weighing the possibilities tempting.

Kai was still on-edge when the group arrived at the Mansion. Safely out of the sniper’s sight, he retracted his helmet back into his suit, shaking out his silver-gray hair and taking in the sight of the Governor's Farm without a filter over his eyes. It figured the administration lived a world (and a gate) apart from anyone who stood the risk of being shot by their uninvited guest. “Colonialist bastards started this fight setting up shop on an occupied planet.” he thought with a bitter look a the Landmark Colonial flag emblazoned on a subaltern’s back. “Instead of letting farmhands and engineers get shot in the streets, the bosses could at least have enough integrity to fight in their own f*cking war.” He chose to keep his opinions to himself as he entered the Mansion and approached Edena Ji’s desk.

“Ignis Kye-Fei, same, I guess.” His voice sounded more weary than he’d intended. Nothing about the Mansion was necessarily gaudy, but compared to the austerity of the rest of the settlement, the difference in quality of life was obvious. One would think that a colony that could afford to print a compliment of mechanized chassis could afford to make everyone’s living situation more comfortable. Nonetheless, propriety dictated that he take the hand that was offered him. “Good of the Administrator to make time for us on such short notice. Given the situation, it’d be good to get first contact out of the way.”

[technoRomancer]

Mikka was abuzz with nervous energy as she made her crossing, fingers tapping against her side impatiently as she waited for the last pair to cross, and it came to a sharp head as the shot cracked through the air and cratered in the mud. She wasn't equipped for long-range fire support and left that to their guide, swallowing down a spike of fear for her teammates as she realized it hadn't been a lethal hit. "Looks like the rain's as annoying for our sniper buddy as it is for the residents," she muttered, staring up and letting it run off her faceplate for a moment. Ships might be able to simulate weather sounds but it was never quite as satisfying as the real thing. At least the added urgency of the wounded militiaman helped her resist the temptation to just stand there and watch the commander's impressive armaments in action. She hoofed it through the muddy streets with the others, taking in the burgeoning cityscape as they went.

When they arrived at their destination, Mikka gave in to distraction, examining the subalterns they passed with a professional interest. A wiry manipulator smacked her on the back of the helmet with a resounding clang and she refocused, apologizing to one of the humanoid drones for getting in its way and catching up to the others as they entered the Mansion. It didn't quite live up to the name, but it was apparent their host was making a statement with the building's design. She'd seen the like on half a dozen colonies before. In her opinion the governors that put themselves on the same level as their constituents were generally more successful, or at least more popular, but she wasn't one to judge.

Once she was inside, Mikka's helmet retracted into the suit, her odd mask remaining in place. Kaboodle was already networking with the local engineers while she approached the desk. "You look like the type to have already memorized our dossiers, so I'll skip the intro. Thanks for having us!" she finished offhandedly, pushing to head upstairs and meet the Administrator.

[bc56]

After the frantic last seconds of the crossing, Ransome calms down again. The meeting with the colonial attaché doesn't need much effort from him. "Pleased to meet you, ma'am. We'll be up to see the administrator in a moment." He heads for the elevator or stairs as appropriate. This place seems bigger than necessary. Hopefully there's not too much to make it hard to find the right place on the third floor.

[Volthawk]

Tobias joins in the shots fired in the sniper's direction with a launched missile, considering Ezra's question as they got moving again and he fed a new missile into the mounted launcher. Novem was being handled, so he focused on keeping alert, bringing up the rear - if the sniper took another shot, he'd prefer the bullet to him him rather than one of the others, given he had the armour to take a hit better. "Snipers don't just kill people. They watch too. Might not have wanted to risk the rest of us hiding away after the first shot - now they know who all of us are. What we look like, what we've got."

He could guess what some of the others were thinking as they arrived at the Mansion, but it was good to see there were able to keep their cool. He shared the general feeling across the lancers, and he'd acted on that kind of thinking more than a few times in the past, but for now they had to stick to the rules and play nice - nothing they'd seen so far had apparently been enough to get that fire really going in him, so the part of him that followed orders and wanted to do the job as well as possible was more in control than the part of him that chafed against the rules and could be a bit too direct in doing the right thing. Besides, there were bigger problems here than a colony's administrator living well, and they still knew way too little.

He takes off his helmet as he enters, attaching it to the hardsuit's belt, and pulls a naval officer's hat from a pouch and puts it on - just a little reminder to the people here that they're Union Navy, not colonial troopers or some mercenaries that their wealth can easily control. Playing nice was one thing, but it needed to be clear how things were going to work here going forward. He accepts the offered handshake - it looks a little strange, with her skinny hands and his heavy armoured hardsuit gauntlet, but there's no harm in politeness at this point - and introduces himself with a simple "Tobias Clarke." While the group heads to the elevator, Tobias waits a moment to get another word with Edena. "I'd like to be as informed as possible for the meeting with Patience. Saves time and trouble that way. Anything useful you can tell me? Seems to me like you're going to be a useful person to be able to work with well. I hope that'll happen." Once he's gotten a response one way or another, he joins the group in heading upstairs. Time to see how much they're willing to talk about. Probably not enough.

[DoctorFaust]

Robert spins in place when the shot comes, sending a chattering burst of fire back before grabbing Novem by the collar and dragging him a few steps deeper into cover. He follows the group the rest of the way to the mansion, silently fuming and thinking even harder about how to best deal with the sniper. Or maybe even snipers.

Once they're inside, Robert follows suit in removing his helmet and smiles at Edena. "It's good to meet you, Attachè Ji. I'm Robert Browning, just to help you put names to faces." He sticks around to hear her response to Tobias, if any, before heading up to the third floor with the group.

[n0ble]

"Thank you all, as you say Mr. Browning, it is nice to put faces to names." She smiles a bit at Ignis' statement but doesnt return it. Something in the words "first contact", maybe. Still no mention of "bugs" either. Her eyes hovering over Mikka and Ransom for just a moment as though to match their silence to whatever briefings the colonies received on them. A bit of the warmth that came to her face as you entered gets smoothed out as professionalism takes over. Once again. She addresses all of you but answers Tobias' question, "And again, thank you Mr. Clarke. I hope to be as helpful as I can. I can save you some time and say that for now whatever I'll be able to tell you so will Patience, and I wouldnt worry Mr. Kye-Fei. I don't think anyone here would see your help as an imposition on their time. Please-" She gestures towards the upright cylinder with a seam-crease down the middle. The outer shell of the elevator. "-if your all ready the elevator should take you now." Her voice comes back to the same light cadence, though perhaps a bit more professional in tone. Smooth enough to almost miss that when she said "anyone here" it was definitely in reference to Evergreen and Evergreen only.

The ride up is smooth and brief, with the elevator proving to be surprisingly spacious inside-sufficiently so as to to be capable of transporting all of you at once. Its inside is padded and insulated against. Thermal regulation keeps the temperature level with how it felt on the second floor.The second floor-a conference room-passes quickly before the doors of the elevator open onto the third "floor".

The third floor, if it can be called that, is sparse and grey.A flat desk is flanked by a computer terminal on the left wall, backed by a comfortable looking chair. The desk has the only real bit of personality in the room-a few corpo knick-nacks: a mug with Landmark's logo on it & a printer styled like a pre-Cradle typing device. A Newton's Cradle clacks away next to the mug, like a metronome. A small chair of the same make as the other one sits across from the desk-probably for Ji to sit in where her and Patience meet face to face. The entire wall behind theses objects is one giant window that is smeared in droplets of rain. Below it, you get a pretty good view of Evergreen's mechanical sprawl-and where the clear cut stops at the jungle's borders. "Welcome, Lancers. I'm glad you've all arrived safely."

The source of the voice sits in the chair. Patience, the colony’s administrator, adopts the appearance of cool blue light coalesced into the shape of a bored-looking administrative professional, heavyset and wearing a suit that would be nice if it weren’t for the wrinkles. His fingers are steepled together, a loom of placid calm on the man's face. A kind, firm smile is on their face. "You must have many questions, now that your finally here. I can do my utmost to answer them for you. We are working with a rough timeline I can inform you about if you'd like."

[technoRomancer]

There was a small noise of contentment as the elevator opens to reveal Patience's projection, and it's not immediately apparent it came from Mikka until she steps into the office space. Somehow she seems a little more relaxed in this spartan room than she did with the soldiers, or even Ji. "We're thrilled to meet you, Patience. Mikka Kivinen and Kaboodle, reporting for action." Her drone's manipulator waved in a somewhat nervous-looking gesture. "Let's start with that timeline and go from there, but, uh, I'd be interested in a more personal chat if you have the opportunity at some point once things are a little less time sensitive? Like... an interview, I guess..?" She seemed a little flustered all of a sudden.

[Seanfall]

Ezra, helmet attached to his waist like several of his companions, gave Mikka a slow sidelong look, then gave his head a small shake. "It's good to finally meet face to...face as well Patience. Ezra Strachen, on behalf of Union I'd like to thank you for providing the escort, Commander Brava, a fine soldier, by the way, ensured our arrival in a timely manner, and for the accommodations, you've made available to us." He gave a crooked have smile, still in diplomat mode. "Unless my fellow Lancers have any questions I'd like to get to the timeline, might have a few after we get a better idea of the situation."

[bc56]

"Glad to be here, sir." Ransome takes Patience's unusual appearance in stride. "Any information you have about the situation on the ground would be very useful as well." A timeline is well and good, but they need to know what they're up against.

[DoctorFaust]

Robert forces down his surprise at the administrator only being there in hologram and adopts a pleasant tone of voice. "Administrator," he says by way of greeting. "Your troops have been a credit to your colony so far. We hope we'll be able to help you with the problems Evergreen is facing. But when you say timeline, do you mean how things progressed up until now or how you want things to proceed?"

[Alteiner]

“We’ll let you get back to your work, Attachè Ji.” Kye lowered his head and walked with the rest of the team towards the elevator, only momentarily pausing to look back over his shoulder. “Oh, by the way: it’s just ‘Mr. Fei.’ ‘Kye’ is my given name. ‘Ignis’ is a sort of… designation, or title, I guess. It’s an old Baronic naming tradition; don’t mind it too much.” He spared a casual wave before the elevator doors shut.

As he stepped into Patience’s office, he raised an eyebrow at the light construct forming in front of them. Of course the Administrator would be an NHP. Patience was probably the first asset Landmark Colonial put on Hercynia. Hell, the planning of Evergreen’s layout was probably calculated exactly before the first-generation human settlers had even emerged from their cloning pods.

“Safe landing, sure, but the welcoming party got a little dicey.” Kye lowered the purifier mask from his face before giving a carefree shrug. “It’s a fine colony you have set up here, Administrator. I’ll be glad to call it home for the next year. We’ve been briefed on the situation, and gotten a short run-down from Commander Hadura, but I’m sure your timeline will answer at least a few of my own questions.” Kye resisted the impulse to ask Patience when the last time he had been cycled was. He had heard horror stories of NHPs entering cascade from prolonged uninterrupted operation, but not only was the issue not officially his business, it probably would’ve been considered rude.

[Volthawk]

Tobias nods, pleased at the diplomatic efforts of the team. Dealing with an NHP isn't an issue for him - a side effect of going in for the long haul with the Union Navy is a good amount of exposure to the wide variety that made up Union, and while mechs might vary in NHP usage, the big ships loved using the guys. He still wasn't really sure what to make of them from a philosophical, political or ethical perspective, but he could work with them just fine. "When it comes to information, both of Browning's points would be helpful to know. Knowing past events would be helpful to come up a solution to the situation. As for the future, it would be...convenient...for us to be in the loop for any actions colonial forces are planning to make." Even if it's just to stop them making things worse. He'd had to do that before, and the whole situation got messy and brought Union officials on his head for overstepping. "We may have our respective autonomy in how we act," A little reminder of how things were going to work here - he was not a corporate enforcer, after all, and Union interests may well conflict with corporate ones here - without being confrontational. "but coordinating our responses tends to end up with the best outcomes. Hopefully we can work together well and make that happen."

[n0ble]

Patience offers a smile at Kye's comment, something that might be confused for smugness or pride on a younger-looking "man". "I'd be happy to provide you with a history of the colony, if you'd like Mr. Fei. Perhaps during our interview?" For a moment the administrator unclasps a hand from behind their back and gestures, first to themselves, then to Mikka & Kaboodle. Then the NHP nods along at Tobias' comment on cooperation, offering they're confirmation with regards to coordinating efforts together. "Thank you all, I am sure Brava will be happy to hear she has your confidences with regards to her and her militia's competencies. Now. The timeline."

The light that makes up Patience settles into the chair behind the desk, stepping his fingers. The blank wall to his right-your left-alights with the same soothing blue as your host. For a moment the light wimples and distorts the space where it’s superimposed, as a display screen forms for your viewing. “The attacks began a month ago. A homestead, ten kilometers upriver from Evergreen. My drones registered small arms fire in the predawn. By the time our militia was able to reach the homestead, the families had already been slaughtered. The homestead was burned to the ground and their food stores stolen.” Patience sighs and spins a projected pen on his desk. “Landmark seems to believe it is a remnant of this planet’s history - an aggressive native species.”

“Before this world was isolated, there was a dominant species of insect here – savage, consumptive, with a startling ability to manipulate simple tools – the ‘Egregorians’. They seem to have been dealt with by Union – ushered to distant corners of the world. Now," they spin the pen again "while the militia make up ghost stories about the return of the Egregorians – and I cannot deny the possibility that some of their race survived – the evidence does not bear it out.” Patience stands from his desk and waves an image up onto the screen. “Observe this picture, taken from combat footage captured during an attack one month ago.”

On the screen, a dark shape is backlit by the flash of an explosion just out of frame. The image is torn with digital artifacts and resolution grain, but the contours of the silhouetted figure are clear: a rounded back, a long rifle, a cluster of feathered antennae – a humanoid shape, but misshapen, alien. Out from under its plated head, its eyes glow dim and red. Time stamp reads half a month ago.

“I cannot deny what my troopers see. But their rumors and fears are out of hand, and distracting them from a very real threat.” Patience advances the footage, cycling quickly through the firefight before coming to a scene after the skirmish has concluded. Militia troopers advance slowly forward, moving between smoldering foliage under a fitful rain. They approach a fallen body and one uses a boot to flip it over.

A person. A human being wearing layers of chitin as if they were armor. Skin graying from blood loss and the camera struggling to find the right white balance.

“It’s not "bugs". Not Egregorians. People are attacking us. We have never encountered an organized, techno‐ logically advanced threat; immunization protocols prevent my people from falling ill, and the walls have been sufficient to negate any predators. My eyes really only extend so far from the wall, and I must confess, amidst the raids I have seen nothing indicating an organized hostile presence. These attackers must come from somewhere – once we know where to expect them from, then we can strike back. Progress and advancement has slowed as a result: no doubt you saw the state of things on your way here. I cannot allow this.” Patience says. A beat passes. "I believe we can entertain questions now if you have any. Then I'd like to brief you as to the dyad of problems that presently confront the colony."

[Seanfall]

Ezra listened and watched the presentation quietly. Several thoughts crashed into his mind at once, he wasn't sure which one was more important than the others. In other words, he wasn't sure where to begin. He took a moment to think before speaking, rubbing his chin as he pondered over the issues. "Were you able to 'date' the chitin? I mean could you tell how old the disguise was?" He tapped a finger against his lips. "The weapons these men are carrying do we know who manufactured them? Speaking of...how did they even get them to start with? Brought in off-world or stolen from the colony's own stores?" He paused again looked around at the others before speaking again. "Can you forward any relevant data on this native species to us? If they're trying to camouflage themselves as these Xeno's we might learn something useful."

[Volthawk]

Ezra's question about how these people were equipped got Tobias thinking. "Looks like SecCom left a lot behind when they were done fighting. They're probably using that one way or another." He looks over at the more technically adept members of the team. "Any idea on whether tech that old left out in the field could still be made to work? Or if they could strip them for salvage and make their own equipment from it?" He considers the point further. "Looting old battlefields for equipment could be where they found the chitin and learnt the significance of it. If they didn't already know."

His last statement brings Tobias to his next line of thought. "I see three main possibilities for who they are. One, descendants of an element of the SecComm presence that was missed or forgotten when they left. Survived here for all this time, didn't get large enough to you to spot first, and now found you. Two, people who came here during this colonisation mission. Decided they didn't want to be part of the colony, made their own way, came back once they were set up. Three, actual outsiders. Seperate colony mission that didn't do it officially, pirates using the place as an outpost, something like that. Patience, anything you can give us to narrow it down? Has anyone you were expecting to have here gone missing or never arrived? Do you have any kind of watch over nearby space, to see if anyone new has arrived recently? Details like that."

"I suppose we also need to find out why they're doing this. Could just be a simple case of raiding for what you have, but some of what I've saw suggests differently. Raiders don't typically set up snipers watching over streets they're not attacking. Feels more like a long term strategy. The kind you use against people you want to not stay around. Attack homesteads, shoot at anyone you see moving freely, make life hell for you so Landmark decides this place isn't worth it. Could be it. Guess we'll just need to do a better job at taking prisoners than the militia so we have someone to find this out from."

[bc56]

"It's a distinct possibility. SecComm didn't mess around with hardware. I wouldn't be surprised if some is still operational. Tactics seem like standard psychological warfare to me. I second the desire for a capture, by the way. Not knowing why they're fighting is always unsettling." Plus as Union Lancers, the group is expected to hear both sides out before choosing who to aid.

[technoRomancer]

Mikka shifted uncomfortably at the footage revealing the dead "xeno" for what it was, unsure how to feel about the whole thing. She didn't want to mistrust the NHP but she couldn't let herself forget he was also a politician. It seemed silly but it was hard to shake off the feeling Patience was trying a little too hard to frame the narrative of their situation to suit his ends. She was dreading a conversation about it with the others when they had a little more privacy but it was probably unavoidable; if Mikka was picking up on it she couldn't be the only one. It was a relief when the conversation turned more technical again, and she jumped to follow up on her team's questions. "Oh, absolutely, any halfway competent tinker could rig something dangerous from old military materiel. And I figure prototype gear from that era, before mass release of licenses, was built to last." From the way her eyes were shining it was apparent the engineer was eager to get elbow deep in some of that old gear herself.

By the way I'm fine to handwave that private interview "off-screen" so it doesn't bog down everyone else!

[DoctorFaust]

Robert stares hard at the video screen, chewing on his bottom lip in thought. An entirely unknown group of humans located on the same continent seemed unlikely, but it could be possible. What seems almost entirely improbable is that a group of aggressive natives could've been in close enough proximity to both the new group and the Landmark settlers to be killed for disguises without ever attacking the colony. Which would imply that the new group has some kind of long ranged transport available.

"Do you control any satellites in orbit?" Robert asks. "Anything with thermal or radiation sensing capability. Or at least the tech base to manufacture and launch one."

[Alteiner]

Kye cross his arms as he watched Patience’s presentation. Small groups making targeted strikes against outlying encampments, probing for vulnerabilities; these was standard guerrilla tactics. This wasn’t how a pack of animals hunted a herd, but that rifle sealed it. No one had set foot on Hercynia for five hundred years, and there was plenty of evidence of the damage the ravages of time had done to the remaining military infrastructure on the planet. A species only capable of “manipulating simple tools” wouldn’t have been able to restore a weapon like that. Once the presentation had paused, Kye kept his eyes on the screen, all traces of casualness gone from his posture.

“I’m sure a survey team has already done a thorough sweep of the attacked settlement. Even if they didn’t, after a month of this weather, there probably isn’t anything left to find there. Once we’ve secured the colony, we can consider scouting further upriver.” If you wanted to find civilization, often the fastest way was to look for where the water came from. “In the meantime, I’m not one for ghost stories, but there are probably still some kinds of big bugs on this planet. Look at that armor. That picture was from a month ago? Hercynia was a SecComm disaster, but they haven’t been in charge for five hundred years. I’m no xenobiologist, but chitin armor from five hundred years ago normally would’ve turned to dust by now, right? And that rifle could’ve been pulled out of a SecComm installation or salvaged from an old mechanized chassis. These people aren’t stupid. They’ve figured out kitbashing and jury-rigging old military equipment, at minimum, and have the basics of guerrilla warfare down. Stealing food and weapons, burning installations. Barony loyalists used these tactics to wear away at the Harrison Armory presence in the Dawnline Shore, except they didn’t make a habit of killing noncombatants.” Now was the hard part. Kye wasn’t fond of swinging his authority as a representative of Union around, but something Patience had said had irritated him enough that the words left his mouth as soon as he’d managed to put them in order.

“Before we move on, let me make one thing clear: there will be no retribution against the Hercynians. Landmark Colonial may hold the charter for Hercynia, but that document is given legitimacy by Union, and aggressive colonial action against a planet’s indigenous populace is a direct violation of Union law. With that being said, we’ll still defend Evergreen from further aggression and help reinforce the colony’s defenses, and recompense for the civilians killed and property destroyed in the attacks will be discussed once we can arrange a ceasefire, but I won’t overlook any aggression against non-aggressive Hercynians. If you wanted the people of this planet slaughtered, you should’ve called a corporate hit-team, not Union Auxiliaries.” This time, he kept his eyes trained on Patience’s light construct the whole time. An NHP had no reason to show expressions, even involuntary ones, so there was no point in trying to decode an emotional response. But, if nothing else, it was important to make it known where the boundaries of their relationship were. They were walking Landmark’s beat, and there was nothing to be done about that. But they weren’t their cronies, and Kye, at least, wouldn’t stand for being treated as one.

“With that out of the way,” his posture relaxed again, and his gaze returned to the display, “have your attackers made any effort to communicate? And do you know if they have any equipment aside from old guns and armor made from carapace? Drones? Cyberwarfare? Mechanized chassis? We might need to make final adjustments to our mech schematics before printing them, so any information at all about their capabilities will help us be better prepared.”

[n0ble]

Patience accepts everyones queries with a serious, if somewhat impassive look. Their gaze-that of the old company man- keeps with whoever is speaking. Once everyone has finished speaking, the man conjures a pencil made of light and idly stands the writing utensil on its point, letting it hover for a few moments before the things falls back down into the cup of the Administrator's hand. "Of course Mr. Fei, preservation of life is a top priority of Landmark Colonial, of which I consider myself foremost representative in my capacity as administrator. I would again concur with Tobias insofar as I believe discovering a motive for these attacks is key to an equitable solution, from which this colony may progress forward. However, please do not mistake my intentions in requesting aid for this colony. I only wish for the peace and prosperity of those I've been assigned to watch over. My purpose is administration. Not warfare."

An awkward beat passes, as the apogee of Patience's reasoning coincides with the tip of the pencil faltering, then falling on it's point. This time no hand catches it. The NHP's avatar picks the pencil back up and twiddles it's point into the desk. "Your questions pertaining to the chitin we've recovered is a fair one, and one I would very much have have liked to have had answered for you prior to arrival. Unfortunately our radiocarbon dating has been largely insufficient in teleologically situating the recovered samples-though I would be happy to allow you to take a look at them when the situation 'on the ground' has stabilized a bit more so to speak."

The man made of light nods thoughtfully for another moment, looking like they could stroke their chin as they thought. A faint look of concern settles into the man's face, then his eyes move to Tobias as he speaks, "Excepting those that have surrendered citizenship to live in the Greytowns my records do not indicate anything like that as-such. I'd be happy to provide with a roster of such individuals if you'd like to perform your own cross-reference. As for the attackers, barring the weather satellite I've been authorized to deploy into orbit and the odd Roger-class topography-scanners we've used for early scouting of the area, our colonial resources have been confined to the domain of the terrestrial. Combined with the radiation from prior testings-more on that in a moment-and actually tracking or hailing these radical elements has proved difficult, especially given a demonstrated aptitude and knowledge of surrounding terrain." The man scratches at the bridge of his translucent nose, then continues. He spins the pencil again.

"Insofar as publicly available records indicate, this world was the testing ground for General Massive Systems’ initial forays into the design and construction of the first mechanized chassis. Beyond the limited records available detailing the systemic and ballistic efficacy of mechanized chassis in hostile native fauna eradication operations, Hercynia amounts to a footnote. Records contemporary with the world’s first appearance in the press indicate that the tests here may have contributed to the hostile political climate that spurred the establishment of the Third Committee. There is not much else available beyond basic survey data and limited analysis of an Egregorian worker-drone. This is all to say that I think your thoughts on the matter are well founded and are at least correct insofar as whatever hostile element is at play is equipping themselves with old GMS kit left behind in the wake of Second Committee's dissolution and exodus from this planet Thankfully, while there have been some crude attempts at systems breaches via electronic warfare it hasnt been anything I cant handle." The administrator's face smiles, clearly pleased that you have all arrived at a similar conclusion with regards to hostile armaments and equipment. Then it falls into a tight expression of stocism as the next topic comes on: "Given this planet's relevancy to the early testing of mechanized infantry, it was only going to be a matter of time before one of the militia reported sightings of such deployments against us. For example: the sniper that has been harassing our perimeter for the last while. Almost certainly in possession of some sort of mechanical chassis given the kinetics at play when it attacks and the speed at which it returns to the jungle." A slight note of irritation enters the administrator's voice, then is smoothed out as they keep speaking.

“The presence of old Union equipment here has already been confirmed by my colonists, as has the ruins of Egregorian hives – similar to termites and other arthropods on many other worlds, only greater in scale. A corollary paper I examined indicated that the Egregorians could craft crude tools and, with instruction, be taught to use our own. Their adaptability was remarkable, as a virus strain can mutate to adapt to its host. But that doesn’t indicate intelligence, of course, just nature. There is no higher function on display: just reflexive responses to external stimuli, actions predicated on fulfilling base needs, organized by an ‘Overmind’ of sorts, much like other eusocial insects, such as terrestrial ants. This leads me to my conclusion: the ‘bugs’ as the older generations in my colony state, are not attacking us." The avatar's mouth sets into a firm line as his face takes on the look of conviction. "Rather it is people. I suspect our ‘Egregorians’ are simply well-equipped human pirates exploiting a gap in my lack of orbital awareness, supplementing their numbers with claim-jumpers from the Grey-Towns and the leftover Second Committee technologies scattered about this planets surface. A much more immediate threat to our colonial project." Patience rubs the back of their balding pate with a hand.

Another pause. "On the subject of your mechanized chassis and re-equipping them with something more suitable to engagements." The air above the desk comes to life with more light that coalesces into two weapons: a heavy two handed mace that bleeds ionizations into the air and what looks like a pneumatic tube with with a trigger attached to it, complete with assemblage for attaching it to a mech and a scale representation of the ammunition that comes with it. The latter is stamped with the Landmark colonial logo. "As Evergreen colonial administrator I am authorized to dispense with special armaments that we have on file for Lancers. May I present: the plasma maul and the snapdragon anti-chassis guided missile launcher." As Patience indicates each armament, the displays of each weapon burst into their constituent parts before reassembling into wholes. All of your slates ping with the printer codes for the weaponry. Another schematic flits across the desk: the familiar silhouette of a GMS Everest mech. "Additionally, we've had some success excavating some of the mech chassis buried in Herycnia's soil. While basic, the coding I've found for it denotes it as an early variant of the galaxy's mainstay chassis-the Sargmartha." Another ping-revelaing that this particular chassis has much in common with the modern day baseline mech that all of you pilot-minus a few timely updates and bigger for having one foot stuck in the past. "Thus far we've yet to train anyone to pilot them-I can think of no one better to note any differences five hundred years might make." Another ping, another code.

The pencil made of light stands and falls. This time no hand catches it, and as it hits the table the pencil dissipates into data motes which then themselves disappear. Patience straightens their tie, stands, then glances back to the window behind them. Rain has begun to pour down in earnest, rippling out across the glass with a steady patter that not even the Governor's farm can dampen. "Now. If there are no more questions, at present two problems directly confront Evergreen. Attach Ji has forwarded me Commander Hadura's briefing on your landing. No doubt then, you are familiar with the first of these immediate problems: the aforementioned sniper. Their attacks have made progression of Evergreen...difficult. Compounded," That same note of irritation again ",by the fact that our landing bowl is currently out of commission. Flooded. Thus far its meant that we've had to detail escorts for any off-planet resupplies or aid. Certainly, it would abnegate the need to come in under fire and or with our Milita as a greeting, to say nothing of allowing larger ships to land on-planet. And yet, we cannot accomplish one of these goals without sacrificing ground on the other: time spent ensuring that Engineer Fielding and his crews can safely drain and repair the landing bowl while we sacrifice any leads that may allow us to pursue this sniper. Conversely, Fielding and I are both of the same mind: danger or no the landing bowl must be drained before it becomes completely sodden by...well..." Another glance out of the window. "...Spring. You see now the quandary I am in with regards to the import that both of these objectives be accomplished when there is only time for one to be realistically done. That being said," The man looks like he's allowing himself a smile, "I am hopeful that in the course of reinforcing the defences of the colony we can arrive at something more than inference or speculation as to the identity of those that threaten Evergreen."


Alright, we've arrived at the first mission proper everyone :smallsmile: I think I got everyone's questions answered but please let me know OOC if theres anything I missed. Also totally cool with dividing things up/flashing back again if there are more questions people want to ask Patience :smallsmile:

There are two choices for this mission, with this choice locking you out of the mission you dont choose:

Option 1: Before the settlement’s landing bowl can be drained and given essential updates, Chief Engineer Fielding needs to complete critical repairs. This will make offworld landings easier and allow larger ships to land at Evergreen without the use of shuttles.

Option 2: You can try and track down the sniper that’s been plaguing Evergreen. Shutting down the sniper attacks will allow the militia some time to breathe and maneuver.

If you choose to assist Fielding, you'll miss the opportunity to track the sniper down. If you choose to pursue the sniper, Fielding will drain the bowl without you, but the engineer team may very well suffer casualties, making them unable to offer aid in the future. If we come down to a 3v3 tie on which mission to pursue I can break it OR roll a dice if thats easier for folks :smalltongue:

Reward: Union will grant all of you sufficient privileges, access and resources to qualify for LL 1
Reserves: Reserves wont be available for this mission

[bc56]

Ransome's eyes light up at the new gear. That's very helpful. "Ah, those are perfect!" Using his subjectivity suite, he makes some comparisons to his existing designs. He'd need space for that launcher. He pulls out the manipulator arms and empties out the mechanisms to support them, and loads the snapdragon into the new cavity in the undercarriage. He disconnects power lines from his heavy howitzer and hooks them to a shiny new plasma maul. He doesn't intend to get that close, but it's good to have an option, and he's sure it could also burn through foliage if necessary.
There's also the topic of the mission. "Hmm. Battles are won with troops, but wars are won with infrastructure. I think we should assist in draining the landing bowl. One enemy operative, no matter how skilled, is lower priority than restoring the ability to receive supplies and reinforcements from offworld. That might become necessary to break the siege on Evergreen, should conditions worsen."

[technoRomancer]

Mikka does not squee as new license specs flicker across her display. There's a small, breathless "oh" as she seems to freeze up, eyes flicking back and forth under her mask, before Kaboodle helpfully smacks her on the back of the head and brings her back into focus. "Right. Work first, toys later. Uh. Well I know the sniper posed a pretty... direct threat to us, specifically, already? But it's a known threat the city can plan around, has been planning around. I'd be inclined to say my fellow grease monkeys are priority anyways but even more so in this case. Anything disrupting logistics will be a much bigger threat over time, and if you lose any engineers it'll be harder to defend against and recover from future problems. Both of a, uh, possibly piratical nature, and literal nature, y'know? A fresh colony's going to suffer even with just regular operational wear and tear building up if there aren't enough hands to address it."

[Seanfall]

The others had asked very good questions, many of which Ezra hadn't thought of. Which was a key benefit of Lancers, they came from every walk of life a diverse group made for many different perspectives. A hard military unit would be too homogenous everyone would think the same. The man listened to Patience one hand cradling his elbow the other rubbing his chin as he listened. His network pinged, and he eye blinked the schematics open and nodded. He wasn't going to change his kit just yet, Shango was outfitted well enough, for now, that said once he had the license for the Chasis he really wanted the Snapdragon could compliment it well.

"Thank you for that, and the information you provided. We'll drop the Xenos angle, for now, seems too much evidence to the contrary exists," He thought over their options for a few moments. "Much as I'd like to eliminate or capture the Sniper, I concur with my compatriots. Your engineers are too important to the Colony's long-term health to risk and that landing bowel will make it easier to get supplies and harder for these insurgents to harass them. I think we should deal with that first. We'll lose the Sniper but better than harming the colony's infrastructure."

[Volthawk]

The blueprints do catch Tobias' interest. The Sagarmatha's size and additional armour would be useful in battle for his style of fighting, and he could see how the weapons could fit in as well. Something to figure out later, when they're done here. Priorities. Instead, his thoughts turn to the presented issues. "My gut says to go for the sniper. Take them alive, get some answers on what's going on here early, stop the attacks. Seems like I'm in the minority there." He pauses, thinking it over. "Hm. If they attack the engineers, we can bring someone in anyway. Sniper will have to expose themselves again at some point if they want to keep it up. Alright. I'm convinced."

[DoctorFaust]

"We're certainly very grateful for the provided schematics. I'll have to look over the launcher later to see if it fits into my tactical profile for this mission." On the subject of what objective to pursue, Robert grits his teeth and answers, "I would tend to agree that the engineer's problem is more pressing. As much as I hate seeing the militia being fired on, supporting the infrastructure and enabling larger ships to land is absolutely a priority."

"Frankly, I think it would make more sense to commit a smaller amount of our forces to dealing with the sniper, say myself and one other person, and have the rest stand guard with the engineers. But if you feel that either one of those problems is going to experience enough resistance to merit multiple Lancers, it would be a better idea to commit wholly and meet it with overwhelming firepower. I would still recommend diverting some supplies where you can to set up better baffles to break up sight lines and deploy harder cover along major avenues to hinder the sniper."

[n0ble]

Patience smiles warm and genuine in response to everyone's thanks for the schematics, "Of course, though please, do not take it as a smear on your competency as Lancers." A pause. "I should also mention that in your capacity as peacekeepers and Union authority here I've also been authorized to grant you citizenship for Evergreen-at least until things have resolved here. Full clearance to use facilities as you see fit to keep the peace here. So to speak." Their smile broadens a bit at the unanimous conclusion the team reaches. "That is wonderful to hear, I'll notify Engineer Fielding and they can get to work loading up for this repair. Were there any other questions I could answer for you?" The man made of light smiles. "I'd be happy to answer anything you might want to ask publicly" they spread their arms wide "or privately now, if you'd like. Otherwise, on behalf of my colony and all of its residents, I should like to extend my thanks from not just myself or Ms. Ji for your aid, but all of Evergreen as well." The NPH's avatar offer's each of you a hand to shake, though they are careful to "grip" each hand in such a way as to make sure the light of their avatar does not pass through your own hands.

On the first floor, Attache Ji's fingers continue to dance across the slate. She looks up as you enter and politley nods. "I hope your visit with the Administrator was a..." Its clear she searches for a word "...productive one. Regardless, thank you. I believe your presence here can only help Evergreen." Genuine relief flits across the professional demeanour of her face before stoicism resumes and she goes back to her slate and terminal.

Outside and opposite the armoury, the print shop looms large across from the Mansion: a conjoined building, one with a tower for data receiving for print and code track storage, squashed next to the actual area for printer yields. Complete with hanger doors for the print station and a small entranceway door for the tower. All told, the gunmetal walls of the structure peak just over the walls of the governor's compound at about three stories. The omninode antenna stretches a little bit beyond this. At its tallest an almost proboscis like projection stabs out from a concave radio disk, the angle much too flat for rain to collect. What was the beginnings of rain has only increased, pouring on across the the courtyard of the Governor's Farm. It's subtle, but theres another layer to the smell of petrichor. Motor oil. The kind used in transports or vehicles with tires.

Coming in through the doorway to the print shop, a small hallway leads left of where you've entered to the main print zone. The whirr of mechanical engineering is a subtle hum throughout the building, instilling it with a calm, steady sort of vibration that drums over the cadence of the rain's outside. Catwalks mark each story in the print area to your left, while to the right you can see a ladder leading upwards to the next floor. It goes up from a series of efficient, compact machineries styled with SSC outer casings of ivory white. You get the sense that not a lot stays still here, and a few cursory first glances about definitely support such a notion.

A dozen engineers swarm around the Chief Engineer Castor Fielding in and above the flat centre of the print area. He certainly looks the part of a first generation colonist. Balding, skin somewhat sagged into middle age through a combination of hard work and late-life pleasures. Like the cigarette that hangs from his lip. Judging by the smell its real tobacco, not the null-metastic kinds that your typical individual would enjoy, and certainly not indoors. His face is angular and more than a little spade shaped, with none of the soft angles present in Patience's avatar or Edeena Ji. Late forties at best, late fifties at worst. The last clue to his advanced tenure as colonist is just as obvious: the angle with which the light reflects from his pate and at ease posture style him as someone at home, maybe even relaxed, amidst machinery. He pinches the paper of the cigarette between the second knuckles of his pointer and middle finger-the narcotic rolled like a cigarillo- then takes a drag from it before removing the tobacco from his mouth and giving all of you a lackadaisical salute.

The engineers around Castor quiet down as you make yourselves known. A few of them, including the Chief Engineer, spare a hopeful glance at all of you. Those around him get back to work packing up materials and field printers for use at the landing bowl. Castor speaks in-between drags from his tobacco. "So then" More smoke, this time from his nostrils. He looks relieved, but guarded. As if whatever deliverance is now arrived to Evergreen is too good to be true and the man doesnt want to get his hopes up. Like an engineer whose forgotten how to derive these things from the world around him. "You'd be the Lancers, eh?" He flicks a bit of ash from the cigarette into an ashtray, held by a small mechanical arm which hangs from his shoulders.

Behind him the steady hum of a power source ramps up and then holds at it's apogee. Mechanical arms and material extruders swing into place as the engineers step out of your way. Some of the arms are possessed of fine digits, others coarse and designed to apply or manipulate things of great weight. Other arms have spot welders, charger ports and even a paint gun with a barrel drum sequenced for different colour paint jobs. And even more arrays besides. A small terminal, newly installed if its sleek casing and fresh LC logo are any indication, waits for you to input the commands needed to print your chassis.


Sadly there is no OOC art for Castor Fielding (yet), but meet Castor! Free to describe printing off your mechs-the printer area is big enough to create stuff that is size 2, it can produce items, machinery, and vehicles up to this size, as long as the correct licensing requirements are met. There are a number of smaller print decks inside the shop (the right side w/ the Ladder to the upper floors) that can be used simultaneously to produce mechs and other objects up to Size 3, although doing so requires some manual assembly after these parts are printed.

Otherwise I'm totally fine with people flashing back to talking with Patience if theres more stuff anyone wanted to address there. Feel free to narrate printing your mechs! This is a big moment so y'all have pretty much full narrative control for these sort of scenes far as I'm concerned :smallsmile:

Finally, I have a patreon subscription to Retrograde minis (https://www.retrogrademinis.com/)pretty much exactly for using their Lancer minis for our roll20 combats. If you want to create and screenshot your mech on there and then post it in the discord, I can recreate on my account for all of you! Just let me know if its Sagarmatha (2x2 sqaures) or the standard Everest (1x1 squares) for the purposes of Sizing on the combat grid. Let me know if you have any questions feel free to ask as well :smallsmile:

[bc56]

Ransome gladly accepts the "handshake." Patience is someone he can work with. Straightforward, practical, helpful. A better C.O. than many he's had, although not a military mind. The resources available to citizens will definitely come in handy here and now too.

In the print shop, Ransome takes in a more animated expression.b"We are. We've been briefed on the situation and are ready to print our hardware. Anything special you can tell us about this installation?"

Regardless of the answer, Ransome will hurry to print out his mech. He makes sure no one's watching over his shoulder as his implants extend from his hands to plug into the terminal and begin printing the updated schematic for Python he finished on the way here. The mechanisms get to work, assembling everything they need.

The finished product eventually stands ready. Ransome has stood guard over his print job the whole time. But now he's admiring the shining chrome finish, the various weapons, everything exactly as he designed. The newly installed plasma maul hangs loose over Python's shoulder, and the barrel of the snapdragon launcher can just be seen poking out of the mech's gut. Not the prettiest possible design, but it's a good place to store an extra weapon. A brace of shiny orange pistols are at the frame's waist, and the ports for an attack nexus are cleverly concealed in the wrists. To top it all off, shiny antennae and dishes, plenty of grenades, and a dark green fabric cloak much like Ransome's own smaller one complete the look.

[Seanfall]

Ezra accepted the 'handshake', feeling just a bit awkward at the lack of touch, well not completely. Holograms made his skin tingle a bit, felt like that fuzz feeling just before a limb falls asleep. He had no further questions and so was quiet up until they met the Chief Engineer. The moment the cigarette smoke hit his nostrils he had to fight not to sigh, it was a horrible habit affecting nearly every fact of a person's body. But god-DAMN did it take the edge off a long day. He forced his eyes on the man's face, and to not follow the sight of the burning cigarillo in his hand.

"Yeap that's us, we'll be assisting your team in this OP."

Strachen waited until Ransome had finished printing their mech before connecting his hard suit to the console. "Have you ever wondered why so many Mech's are named after beings and creatures from old Earth myths?" The arms of the print station twirled and whirled putting the new mech together. "Maybe it's just marketing. But...I like to think it's something more. Like we're re-creating old legends or hoping that a shard of that divinity or mythos comes with us," The frame came together, an assault configuration double-jointed legs. "Kind of poetic in a way, the old stories being born again and again," once the frame was finished the color was added. Its body was a near-uniform red. But a section on the shoulders and chest were left blank till they were filled in with a double sided axe. White lines of lightening arced off the axe streaming down the arms and acorss the back till they terminated with the ones coming off the chest. A White cloak and white painted weapons finished the mech off. "Let me introduce, Shango god of Thunder and lightning."

[DoctorFaust]

Robert takes the hand and shakes it, fighting off the urge to squeeze it like he would a human's. "We really do appreciate the offers of support, Administrator. I just hope we'll be able to live up to the expectations of us."

Only once they're down in the print facility does he relax, finally among the comfortingly caustic smells of smoke, uncured paint, and machinery grinding away. "Yep, that's us", Robert says, flashing a smile. "Lancers, here to fix what ails ya'."

Once Ezra's finished printing Shango, Robert steps forward and begins bringing Phlebas in. He stares, lovingly, in silence as it begins to print from the feet up. He had designed it with more utilitarian ideas in mind than some of the others had theirs, but a few personal touches remain, like the rabbit eared antenna and some not-totally necessary strakes. Finally it stands there, fully equipped and gleaming, and Robert's smile only grows wider when the sun flashes off Phlebas' sensors like living eyes. "Alright. I think the old Earth phrase here would be, let's do this thang."

[Volthawk]

Tobias nods as he accepts the handshake from Patience. "That will help. Thank you. Let us know if there are any developments while we're working." This was going better than expected for something so heavily tied in corporate interest, but then again they were still in the first impressions stage of things. No harm in a little optimism, he supposed, so long as it didn't affect his judgement going forward.

Tobias nods to the Chief Engineer after he speaks. The man was guarded, but he understood that - he'd be the same if the situations were reversed. Just meant that they had to prove themselves. "That we are. Tobias Clarke, UN Auxillaries."

Ezra's speech gets a small shrug from Tobias. "They're powerful names. Belief fades, but people remember the power behind the stories. Want to believe they have that power themselves, so they name their weapons after them. Was how we did it back home. Named our weapons of war - ancients with their ships and blades, then planes and tanks, and finally my generation with mechs - after the beasts of the land or monsters of myth, made them look like their name. Started out as faith, but the tradition and superstition didn't completely fade for most people." He grins. "Probably helps in the end. People are interesting like that. Puts them in the right mindset for victory, gives them a little extra confidence." When it comes to his turn to print, he sets the printer parameters up for a larger mech - not quite large enough to need to be printed in several parts, but the new Sagarmatha frame was significantly larger than what the others were printing. Between the new chassis and the new weapons, the Avalanche that was coming to shape was a little different to the one he had planned on piloting, but it was still just what he wanted. Watching the golden paintjob be applied to his mech's distinct, almost bestial head (while he ignored most of it as a part of leaving it behind for Union, a few parts of his home's ways of doing things stuck with him), it strikes him that his mech would fit quite well with Ezra's talk of old myths and legends, but he liked the name he had given it. Avalanche had a power of its own, anyway - massive, powerful and hard to ignore, that fit his style quite well.

[technoRomancer]

Mikka hangs back, shuffling a bit awkwardly as the others file out, obviously eager to take the administrative NHP up on his offer for a little more... intimate question session. But Kaboodle detaches from her back, the drone leaving her behind and following in the team's wake as they head to the print shop. It hovers unobtrusively in the background, waiting until all the others have completed their print jobs before approaching the console and jacking in with a quiet invocation, spoken with almost religious stoicism. "YOU WILL SOON HAVE YOUR GOD. AND YOU WILL MAKE IT WITH YOUR OWN HANDS." Its patience pays off as Mikka enters the shop almost immediately after, looking a bit breathless and red in the face. "Oh thanks Kaboods, I'll take it from here." Good timing, as her partner had just finished prepping the basic frame for her to build on. Since no one else was waiting Mikka takes her time, tweaking various bits and bobs and going back and forth on a few options. As Mikka falls into the same strange working-fugue the others had witnessed on the ship previously, her frame slowly takes shape, its stance at first looking odd as if it had fallen over on its forearms. The reason becomes apparent as the structure of a massive pod begins to form on its hunched back, the armored housing for an ingenious (in her humble opinion), compact modular system designed to rotate a myriad of deployables and heavy weaponry into position as needed. It's not quite as impressively hulking as the Sagarmathas, but it's definitely on the upper end of the Everest range. The final touches leave it looking less like a weapon of war and more like some sort of industrial machine, off-white and steel with glaring stripes of hazard orange.

Blinking back into focus as her trance fades, Mikka seems to notice the bustle of the engineers around prepping for their operation for the first time. With a hesitant smile she claps and rubs her hands together. "Oh! The song of my people. Hi folks, call me Screwloose, and this is Kit n' Kaboodle." She slaps one of the quadruped mech's armored legs, and with a mechanical lurch it does a little bow - apparently at some point the NHP had taken possession, the drone secured on her back once more. "We're eager to get you to work." Unsurprisingly, she does look a little more comfortable around the grease monkeys than she did with their militia escort. As the group nears readiness to roll out, she sizes up the other printed frames with a critical eye but seems satisfied with what she sees. Her HUD helpfully overlays their designations and loadouts as she scans them. "Pretty cool... uh, guess my tastes lean more towards, 'is it funny?'" she offers her perspective to Tobias and Ezra's conversation with a shrug, having caught enough of it.

[n0ble]

HUDSON: "Is this going to be a stand up fight, sir, or another bug hunt?"
GORMAN: "All we know is that there is still no contact with the colony, and a xenomorph may be involved."
HUDSON: "Excuse me sir, a what?"
GORMAN: "A xenomorph."
HICKS (louder): "Its a bug hunt."
- First heard in Aliens 1986


Castor watches the mechs print, an almost child smile wonder playing across his face as the first of the mechs are printed and walked out from the printing arms. A silently mouthed "Holy sh!t" creeps from behind one of the less senior engineers, clearly a second generation colonist when seen next to Castor, witnessing the creations. The young woman has E. Fitzgerald on her uniform. Her eyes go wide as Shango is printed, wider as Avalance marches from the station and wider still as Kaboodle intones their litany. For a moment it looks like she could say something before a man with Y. Wellington threaded onto his uniform offers her a cup of coffee. Bitter smells waft from the two mugs to mix with the smell of gas and industry.

The charmed expression on the chief engineer's face makes the cigarillo-burnt to a stub-hang slack in his mouth, and he offers one to each of you as the the last of the chassis is printed off. "Well...its a pleasure to meet you..." He looks across your team, including the mechs. A bit of the wonder is replaced with something like restrained awe "...Uh all of you. I uh-well dam." "What'd I tell you Yuki. That sniper would've sh!t lug nuts and bolts " The man who shushed the younger engineer with coffee sshrugs then smiles, "I suppose drinks at the Well are on me, Sir."

Castor looks like he's a bout to respond, then scratches the back of his head like he's just remembered where he is, the expression now becoming sheepish as he lights up another cigarillo."Like we get paid, Wellington. Here." Castor taps his fingers across a small wrist-slate mounted on his forearm and the journey he's mapped out to the landing bowl pings your omninet address. "Figured y'all might want to have a look. Also uh" The same sheepish look reasserts itself for a moment as he offers each of you a hand to shake, one stained with grease. "Thank you. Figure you've already gotten lots of practice doing this at the Governor's farm but well...I dunno how well our rigs could take a handshake from one of those. Best to do it now while we can, eh?" Castor jabs a thumb at one of "those" vehicles as the last of a pumping-device crate is strapped to the back, then points in a wide arc at the mechs as he finishes speaking.

A little bit of smoke comes out of his nostrils as he exhales from a cigarello pull. It occurs in time with the doors to the hanger sweeping open to a much rained on courtyard. Castor grabs the lip of his tranporter's roof and half pulls half steps into the cab. His voice is lost to the shudder of combustion engines revving up before it pings out over the local communications channel. "Whenever your ready, Lancers. You call the shots, s'yer formation-we'll stick where you need us to." One gets the expression that, judging by the tone of his voice, the Head Engineer is not allowing himself to smile anymore. Theres steel in his voice now.

Outside, the rain has begun to poor down in earnest, each droplet drumming out its own cadence onto the concourse of the Governor's Farm. Time to roll.

[Volthawk]

Tobias accepts the cigarillo and handshake with a smile and a nod, noting the reactions of the other engineers with a small grin. He'd spent long enough in the navy in general and as a pilot specifically that he sometimes forgot that people weren't always accustomed to seeing military-grade mechs. That was good. Frontier regions where people didn't give mechs like theirs a second glance were typically ones that had seen too much conflict. Hopefully they could stop things reaching that point. "It's like they said. We're here to help. Need to have the right gear to do the job, so...these. Should be able to stand up to what they have out there."

Climbing into Avalanche, Tobias mulls over Castor's statement about them calling the shots. "Let's run through your part in this first. What do you need to get done exactly? Where do you need to go, how much will you need to split up?" Tobias shrugs. "Stick close to me. Can use Avalanche for cover if we take fire. And then if they come for you, they get me." Taking control of his mech, he unslings its shotgun and double-checks that it's ready for any firefight they might have. "And that will work just fine."

[bc56]

Ransome mounts quickly into Python. The subjectivity jacks slide out of his hands and into the ports of the machine, and then they are one. In here, surrounded by his armored chassis and all the comms gear he could ever want, Ransome feels much safer than he has since arriving. He flexes massive fingers, checks and double-checks his targeting systems, and takes a few steady steps. "Python's not so tough as Avalanche, but still much tougher than one of your crew. Our mission is to keep you safe, so stay out of the line of fire or behind any of us when you can. Union regulations say we can't fire until fired upon, so that's especially important before the shooting starts, in case they bring snipers. I'm going to be hanging back from the main fight, providing 'net support and hitting targets of opportunity, but if you need the extra processing power, feel free to ask.

[Seanfall]

Ezra smirked and hopped into Shango, hardsuit connected and the inside came to life as his mech closed around him. Screens popped to life feeding him data and connecting him with the others. He flicked a few switches, did a quick well-memorized systems check, and took a step forward. "Call signs from here out, Hardtack and Shango good to go." He took a breath feeling more at ease back in the cockpit. "We're your guardians for this OP, we'll decide a formation around your group and go from there."

Speaking of there was the question of his place in the formation. He'd be best on one of the sides Shango and his general skillset were better suited towards hitting the foe as hard as they could.

[Alteiner]

Kye cracked his knuckles and rolled his neck. It was time to get to work. He turned on the music from his dataslate, a mix by an artist in the Long Rim who had been arrested for corporate espionage the year Kye left for the Dawnline Shore, and pulled up his mech’s schematics. Crimson Lotus was a performance machine, tuned as much for its maneuverability and speed as for its power. Ownership of the GMS Standard Pattern 1 schematic had been Kye’s payment for his work with the Union Navy, and with just a little tweaking, it easily put even the greatest modifications a GRAMtech Strike-3 could accept to shame. The only component Kye had found any trouble with was the unique pilot seat he’d added to the cockpit, a seat the pilot was meant to sit astride like a riding animal. The system had come standard with a few GRAMtech mechs, and for whatever reason, Kye’s hardsuit had an easier time syncing up with it than a standard pilot seat. Nonetheless, it was a modification that required a little extra tweaking before the printer accepted it.

With the final preparations in place, the printer slowly produced the individual parts of the mech’s chassis, followed by its deep red armor. Kye set to work assembling his mech from its printed parts, patching wiring where it was needed, affixing the armor plating into place, and sharpening the mech’s signature curved sword with a laser cutter. Affixed to the mech’s back weapon mount with electromagnets was what appeared to be a two-handed sword lacking a blade. In truth, the sword frame contained a plasma blade-emitter that was charged from the machine’s reactor, and which sent a surge of plasma along the weapon to create its cutting edge. As a finishing touch, he used the colony’s printer to apply a design to the mech’s torso, along its collar. It was an image that was supposedly been found in a data vault from before the fall of Cradle’s previous civilization, and had been edited from a version heavily featured in an SSC ad campaign for the last few centuries: a stylized image of a red-headed woman in sleek, gleaming armor, wielding a massive, curved sword and slicing through what looked like an ancient-era war machine.

Kye wasn’t the superstitious type, but he’d had that same image emblazoned on his first GRAMtech Strike-3 when he left home, and he had survived all this time while so many of his comrades hadn’t. Plenty of soldiers had good luck charms and rituals. Even if didn’t literally keep him alive, the peace of mind alone was worth it.

As the rain began in earnest, Kye politely rejected the offered cigarello with a held-up hand and soft shake of his head, smile hidden by his mask. He was fond of drink, and it was hard to grow up in the Long Rim without partaking in one’s own helping of substances from vat-grown tobacco to psychedelics, but he had a prohibition against taking in anything before a mission; a habit from his old cell. He discarded his coat and climbed aboard Crimson Lotus, letting out a low hiss when the cockpit’s interface ports connected with his hardsuit’s and synced to his neural augments. A prickling feeling like electricity ran through his head and down his spine, and a distant phantom sensation like raindrops tingled on his fingers and back from the rain. When his comms channel opened, he projected his voice through to the rest of the team, accidentally picking up the low beats of music he had playing in his cockpit.

“Fomalhaut and Crimson Lotus, my blade is yours.” he said, running a quick diagnostic sweep of Crimson Lotus’s propulsion systems. “I’ll be in the vanguard for this one. I work best up-close, and Crimson Lotus’s specialty is its maneuverability and handling, so I can close in and shut down any hostiles anyone else keeps pinned down. And if anyone gets close to the convoy, I’ll come back and cut them apart. Wherever you need me, that's where I'll be. We probably won’t be lucky enough to avoid getting hit on the way to the landing bowl, but I’ll do whatever I can to protect you.”

[n0ble]

Castor's voice sounds out across your coms to coincide with two things: the engines of their vehicles revving into motion as they go forward behind you and a ping on your mails with a rough topographical map-journey included. Theres three of the gas guzzlers, all flatbeds mounted on quad wheels and stacked with crates for pumping the bowl. The map is rough and patchy, with parts of it missing at odd or haphazard areas that are white instead of the green smears that denote forests. The waypoint that Castor's marked out throbs as he speaks to Tobias: "We're going here Sir. Jus the three of us. All three of-" A sharp horn toots off from the hauler that Wellington got into. You can hear the restrained bemusment in Castor's voice as he continues, "-All three of us are going right for the landing bowl. Should be about six hours getting there, all told. Once we get it good and drained with some of the autopumps we're bringing we'll set up some of the turrets we've got as well." Theres a pause as Castor coughs and hawks phlegm. "Hopefully should help ward off any bugs that come 'round eh?" The route takes you south, the map dotted with other locations, all to the south of Evergreen. First Merricktown. Then Chau Maze. By comparison, the landing bowl is actually closer than either of the two Grey Towns. All told its looking like a solid six hours of trekking to get there.

Evergreen's engineering team lets you take the lead out through their colony. The rain has scared most folk inside, and those that dont scurry indoors either ahead of you or out of your wake, inaudible but for the sensors on your mechs that register the sounds. Still, some brave the winds and rain to steal a peak at the sound of your mechs ambulating. A young child with frizzy brown hair looks out from behind a supporting pillar, one used to support a wide structure thats low to the ground. Her eyes widen at any mechs that turn to her before a young woman-a school teacher by dress and tone of voice-calls her back indoors. The ground below your is sodden in earnest with rain, the sheet metal driven into the ground enough for the quad wheelers to gain purchase despite a few initial skids and slips to get on-ramp. The head engineer sounds off with a "Dam rain..." and, as though on queue, the wind picks, carrying more rain down to the ground with it.

Outside the walls, the treeline of Hercynia's scrub stands tall when juxtaposed with the clear cut surrounding Evergreen. What few people are still out in the clear cut wear olive green rainslickers that cover them from pate to ankle. They stand like lonely shepherds, overseeing flocks of drones inured to the rain and wind. Ahead, the patches of tawny grass yield to a verdant green before the treeline thats broken by the shadows cast by tree branches. The wind tosses the highest and most thin of the branches about, making the shadows dance back and forth. From there, it's only a few steps more into past the first of the boles, towering well and above over even Avalanche's frame.

Into the rain soaked green. (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oXnAxydhZ8M&ab_channel=andyserkis)

[Seanfall]

Hardtack keeps to his position in the formation throughout the trek, he's at home inside Shango sensors feeding him data on the mech, auditory information, and of course his link to the team. They hadn't formally selected a 'Squad Leader' and Hardtack wasn't about to volunteer. Even in Union Lancers tended to be individuals, but they were also professionals and thus far everyone had been receptive to each other's input that was good. He hopes it would last when the lead started flying. "I got nothing out of the ordinary on my sensors thus far." He said over comms. He adjusted the auditory input so he could hear the rain and the storm better. Bet you're feeling right at home huh Shango? In the rain?

Eventually, he catches the frizzy-haired child watching the procession. Shango lifted its arm and gave a salute to the kid before continuing. Hardtack chuckled to himself, kids always did look at such things with wonder. Hell, he still did time from time, the first time he saw an armored procession...as jaded as life can make you there was still awe to be had.

Finally when they were but a few steps from their destination he whistled over comms. "Wheeeeew, that is a sight ain't it lads?" He brought up the topographical data they had on the area. "Alright where should we deploy?"

[Alteiner]

Fomalhaut kept to his place near the vanguard, the relentless tapping of rainfall against Crimson Lotus’s cloak and armor a soothing sound alongside his music. He intermittently checked his sensor feed and squinted through the rain at the treeline. With such low visibility, they could’ve been walking into an ambush without even knowing it.

“No visible hostiles yet.” he said over the comms. The sight of civilians looking upon the mechs with a mix of awe and stupefaction was a familiar sight. The pounding rain reminded him of the jungles in the Dawnline Shore. Tension and anxiety running along his spine were like familiar friends. He turned his mech’s head towards whatever civilians came into view. He wanted to take in the faces of the people the team was protecting. He might’ve confronted Patience over the validity of Landmark’s colonial charter on the planet, but these people didn’t have anything to do with that. If the Hercynians really were holdovers from past colonization efforts, than the colonials were just as much the progeny of this planet as they were.

“It’s a sight we’ll be seeing a lot over the next year.” he said. “Let’s make sure we stay in their good graces. Hopefully, we’ll be coming back with a reason for them to celebrate.” He paused to check his own map of their surroundings, noting the course they were taking towards the landing bowl. “Any hostiles will be after the convoy, so I’ll be deployed close to it. But, I shouldn’t be the only one.”

[bc56]

Worm sends out frequent sensor pings as they march, scanning for any sign of unfamiliar tech, hostile or otherwise. He keeps Python's systems ready, in case of a hostile hacker.
Ultimately, his paranoia starts acting up as they progress through the jungles. He's sure he saw movement a couple times, and Python is often fingering its pistols. When they finally reach the landing bowl, he can relax a little. At least now he knows there are enemies potentially coming, and doesn't have to worry about blundering into them. "I'm going to stay close for now. When the fighting starts, I might need to find a different position." He looks around for convenient sources of cover.

[DoctorFaust]

Robert stays alert throughout their march, but pointedly keeps Eliot's hands away from his weapons' triggers. When the child pokes her head out, he smiles underneath his helmet and has Eliot salute her.

Once they enter the trees, he disengages the rifle's safety and limbers up his pistol. "It's going to be best if I'm shooting away from the convoy whenever possible. I'll stick close to it too."

[n0ble]

The silence is striking amidst the scaffolding of the arbor's shade. The only sound is the steady patter of rain, gradually swelling to a torrential downpour the farther you go from Evergreen. The leaves of the trees are dark. Barring the odd rodent climbing one of the trees or amphibian squatting in the mud, there is no wildlife. And the silence continues.

You track southeast through the mud, and what would be a journey of an hour or less over a few kilometers descends into drudgery as the minutes stack against you. Castor's voice goes out over the comms. You can hear him grit behind his communicator as the wheel of his quad momentarily catches in a sin before pulling loose. "Dam. It'll clear in a second, theres a road up ahead that we've got laid down just a little-" As though on cue the verdant green surrounding you gives way, now flanking on either side. "-Farther." Gravel has been put out and travelled over until its settled into the ground, dotted with the odd stump too obstinate to yet give way. Its enough that the quad-haulers are able to gain traction. One hour down. Five more to go.

Two more hours in and the rain has begun to pool in large puddles that have soaked into the ground, making parts of the road a sodden mess. Its slow going around the clots, with even your mechs gaining purchase only with exertion. Maybe thats why it all goes to sh!t at the halfway point.

You see them first as misshapen silhouettes in the dim arboreal light: rounded upper bodies, long antennae, thin limbs They move fast and low between the trees. Whoops and cries echo out from the dense forest, high, keening calls over the low rumble of heavier units thundering behind.

The first shots crack through branches, setting them alight with sudden terrible heat and chasing questions about the nature of the enemy from your mind. Your vision narrows, tunnelling to the immediate space before you, sharpening only what is necessary for you to see and know in order to live. The air fills with the thick smell of smoke and ozone. A second sound: the drone-buzz of lasers.

Contact, even when you expect it, always hits like a lightning bolt.

A cry goes up from Castor– “Sh!t! Eggs in the perimeter! Eggs in the perimeter!” – and it seems like the whole world is alive with the enemy as five chassis limed in rust and rainwater emerge from the mists that have swelled up in the wake of their heat. One levels a heavy looking LMG at you, the ammo feed for the gun coiled underneath like thick worms, studded with finger with teeth like rounds. Another, the biggest of the quintet by far, raises a shield shaped vaguely like a coffin. Moats of light suffuse the shield and the chassis of the one who carries it. An Assault-class mech to the shield bearer's right readies the underslung launcher on their assault rifle with an aggressive racking sound. Broken Union hails you over the comms: "You. Cannot advance." From the shieldbearer, maybe. The final two figures ready themselves: a svelte mecha with a thin, needle-like sword that flashes broad as they flourish it through the rain and a monocular chassis whose main gun flares with targeting reticules. All of them have jagged silhouettes, the result of chitin lashed to the outside of their chassis.


Alright everyone welcome to our first combat! Please make your way over to roll20 (https://app.roll20.net/editor/) and deploy yourselves wherever you'd like in the top green area. You can also place the engineers where you'd like within the deployment zone as well :smallsmile:

This is an escort scenario that is going to last 6 turns, as per page 269 of the core rulebook. To be victorious here you need to escort 2/3 Engineers to the green area on the bottom of the map. The vehicles move with you when you make a standard move but can be moved by multiple PCs in one turn (in effect you can "leapfrog" them). Each engineer has 10 health and is size 1. If they are adjacent to both a PC and an enemy NPC, then they cant move until the enemy PC is no longer adjacent to them. They will not move on their own. The enemy types should be visible on the nameplates, let me know if you cant see them. Squares with water in them are sufficiently mud-sodden to be difficult terrain, but it only affects the engineers if you occupy such a square. If

Onto colours (I'll make sure to repost the legend for this with each of my post for combat :smallsmile:):
Your deployment zone is the bright green area you and the engineers occupy at the top of the map.
The area you need to escort the engineers to safely is the bright green area behind the enemy's deployment zone.
Initial enemy forces will deploy after you in the Red area they currently occupy
Enemy reinforments come in from areas that are Dark Red
Size 1 hard cover is Pink Assume that both you and the enemy have LOS for shooting over this cover to each other
Size 2 Soft Cover is Light Blue/turqoise . Assume you can shoot through it regardless of size as its foliage from tall trees.
Size 2 hard cover is Dark Blue

[Seanfall]

"Alright boys and girls let's show'em what Union Lancers can do." Hardtack scanned the area and skidded Shango into position. "I'm going to head for that cover ahead of us, and lay down some covering fire." He checked the topographical map for where would be good spots for his mines. Hardtack pulled his hand off the control stick to type in a code. The comp/con unit spoke a second later, "Hyperspec Ful Injector activated." His cockpit lit up lines of multi-colored light lit up in the seams, on the outside Shango stomped its foot jets puffed like a storm cloud starting to thunder ready to lightning waiting to strike.

Then the storm hit and Shango blasted forward gets roaring to life behind rather than run the mech hovered over the ground flying just above the mud and dirt. Hardtack cut the boosters when they neared a massive stump, sod dirt and mud flung up every which way as the mech's feet hit the ground. The rifle in his hands was switched out, said rifle mag locking to the side while another arm reached back for the heavy machine gun on Shango's back, the gun revved to life. "Hardtack in position, ready to deliver covering fire."


Activating Hperspec fuel injector Core Power to boost as a free action. (and that handy +1 it gets.)

Move and boost to cover 6 squares of movement.

Changing weapons to the heavy machine gun to prepare Covering fire.

[technoRomancer]

With civilians watching, Kaboodle puts on a show, spinning Kit's pod around and bobbing it up and down. Preferring an analog approach, Mikka's not plugged in directly to her controls but has no qualms with the NHP driving when it feels like it. Once they enter the jungle proper Screwloose and her partner keep it professional, dedicated sensor array making constant sweeps. The weather and heavy foliage render her equipment inefficient - Mikka starts making plans for upgrades as Kaboodle keeps the mech walking, flanking Castor's hauler through the muddy terrain.

By the time Castor cries out in alarm, Kaboodle is already interposing itself between the convoy and the line of hostile contacts. There's a nervous excitement in her voice. "Stick close, Castor, we'll get you out of the fire. Booster shot incoming, sorry about your paint job." With a hiss of steam, a beer can-sized dongle pops out of the equipment pod and punches into the hauler's hood, a few sparks arcing across the vehicle as a grinding groan rattles the interior. It's unclear exactly what it does, but for a brief moment the hauler's engine suddenly seems to be running at peak performance. "Kabob, gimme a solution for Toybox-1?" The NHP quickly obliges as their mech scuttles under the canopy of a massive tree, and within moments her HUD overlays the transparent silhouette of a turret drone on top of the trunk Shango is rocketing towards with impressive speed. Screwloose confirms and the cockpit shivers as her pod rotates into position. There's a kick and a thwoomp as a canister launches from its rack, plated casing breaking free and tiny rockets correcting its course in bursts through its arc, landing with fair precision on the wireframe target. A quad-barreled turret pops up from where its pod has dug into the wood, training towards the unknown hostiles.

"It's not a doll, it's an action figure," the NHP quips over the radio.

Quick Tech: Bolster Castor. +2 Accuracy on their next skill check or save before the end of their next turn. (So, I assume the end of Mikka's next turn since the engies don't have their own?)
Moving four spaces ahead and taking Castor with her.
Quick: Deploy Turret Drone. 10 HP, 10 Eva, 10 EDef

[n0ble]

The cycloptic mech on the enemy's side moves slightly slower than Hardtack, the hyperspec fuel injection system tapping into some sort of hidden vein of speed that easily carries Ezra across the battlefield. The enemy mech-lagging behind but fast nonetheless-adopts a sort of fearful symmetry in its movements as its skids forward into the redoubt of a fallen tree stump. One of a proportion to match the gangly monocular 'bots frame.

The enemy Scout raises their rifle towards Hardtack-a collection of cylinder's stacked on top one another, each moving with asynchronous clicks and whirrs as they lock into place. Some sort of guided aim-aperture swirls open and tracks targeting reticules across the massive stump behind which Hardtack has taken cover. A gravelly monotone sounds off. Human, but buried under the accent of the Scout's pilot. "Searching." Several of the tracer's converge, right over Shango's "head" before a half a dozen more coalesce over mecha's arm and leg joints. A strange series of slangs and jargon sound over the enemy's comms as the Scout chatters out, "Weakness locked."

Screwloose's turret unfurls like in the trees, a colossus amongst all the little bugs yet small for the slime moulds that cling to the dying stump it occupies. Like some sort of contradictory apex predator. Castor audible grunts over the radio as the dongle sparks at the hull of his quad-wheeler. He curses with strained humour at Kaboodle's declaration. "Well sh!!!t. Just when I'd thought I'd seen every kind of update there was. Than-" A momentary grunt as the engine stalls, then finds a new gear-a better gear-amidst whatever aid Screwloose has provided. "Thank's m'am." He guns the engine and follows after Screwloose in a tight pattern that skirts the mud field on his flank.

Any further communication is drowned out as the Assault mech screeches forward with a burst of the microjets built into the bulk of it's frame. The Assault mech thuds into cover adjacent the Scout and blazes away with their assault rifle. Despite more or less completely following the trajectory laid out by the acting spotter adjacent to them, Hercynia ever proves a cradle to life as the bullets fruitlessly impact against the wood of Hardtack's cover. Yet, despite what haven the branches provide, nature only triumphs so far against artifice as some of the hail of bullets chip at Shango's chassis. One thing becomes apparent as the hail of fire dies down: if the Assault had wanted to hurt the engineers the Assault-mech would have used that grenade launcher thats underslung on their heavy assault rifle. For better or worse, it seems you Lancers are the object of their ire.


This turn the enemy NPC Scout moved forward 6 spaces for a standard move.
For its first Quick Action: the Scout boosted another 4 squares into hardcover of the stump.
For it's second quick action: the Scout Skirmished vs. Hardtack/Shango/Ezra and succeeded. While they took no damage, Hardtack now has the Lock-On condition. As long as they have the Lock-On condition, Hardtack is also shredded, cannot take the Hide action and cannot become invisible

To make up for Mikka going, I'm taking another turn with an NPC in this post, then we can get into the usual PC acts/player posts, NPC acts/I post rythym.

Second NPC, the Assault, moved forward 4 spaces for a standard move.
For its first quick action: The Assault boosted another 4 squares into cover the hardcover of the stump.
For its second quick action: The Assault fired's its heavy assault rifle at Hardtack, consuming the Lock-On & taking advantage of the Scout's Spotter trait to completely negate the penalties from the Hardcover Hardtack occupies. The Assault then proceeded to roll a big ol' 7 and miss Hardtack's evasion of 8. Hardtack is now no longer Locked-On and thus no longer shredded (and can hide/be invisible again) from the Scout's marker rifle. Hardtack did however take 2 kinetic damage as the Assault's weapon has reliable 2.

[Volthawk]

As the shooting starts, Sticks considers the situation, Avalanche's bestial head moving from side to side as he surveys the scene. The range was too far for most of his weapons to be effective, but that was fine - they were going to have to get a lot closer, given that their destination requires punching through their heavier mechs, and between Avalanche's body and the trees Castor was moving to the engineers should have enough cover that the enemy will likely need to manuever closer to get a good shot. Either they were coming to the lancers or the lancers were coming to them. Either way, his shotgun would see some use. Although...Castor and Screwloose were open for now, and while he trusted in his armour and hull reinforcements, so was he. Easily resolved. And as for offence, while most of his weapons were ineffective he did have something he could do. Just about. Won't put any hurt on them now, but it'll set up for one of the others who are more free to act.

Mind made up, Sticks gives the two engineers beside him one simple order. "Keep behind me." With that, he marches forwards, Avalanche's bulky frame advancing slowly and steadily, shields humming into life - he was making himself the easiest target, so it paid to be careful. As it moves, he unclips a smoke grenade and tosses it to the side, the cloud obscuring the mechs still in the open, as he works inside the cockpit to establish a sensor lock on the smaller and closer of the two advancing enemies. His next burst over the comms is directed at the other lancers. "Keep applying pressure. Need to have them keep their focus on us. Take cover behind me if you need it."


Protocol: Activate Type-3 Projected Shield (1 heat), targeting the Archer. It takes 2 difficulty if it tries to shoot me before my next turn. Not sure if it'll help, but it sounds like a shooty one and it hasn't acted yet so why not.

Moving forwards four squares, activating Fitzgerald and Yuki to follow behind.

Quick action: Not firing the RPG like I originally planned when I forgot Ordnance existed, instead taking a Quick Tech action to Lock On to the Scout.

Quick action: Throw a smoke grenade one square southeast of Screwloose's current position, providing soft cover to everyone in a Blast 2. That should cover me as well as protecting Screwloose and Castor. Might as well ensure everyone is in cover while I have the spare action.

[n0ble]

Fiztgerald and Yuki add their engines to the sound of conflict, falling in behind Sticks as they advance up. At odds with the gunfire thats barked across the pathway thus far, Stick's smoke grenade silently billows its contents into the air with little more than a hiss, the white smoke silently filling in and around those who have advanced into the vanguard first.

Just as Sticks's targeting reticules find the enemy Scout their teamate-the Ronin-surges forward, rapidly covering the distance between you and its blade. Said object is dragged in the ground behind the Ronin, carving a narrow furrow in the mech's wake before the Ronin whips it into a guarded stance. At the same time, launchers on their brachial and popliteal joints spin, churning out a mass of flak and chaff. An echo of Stick's smoke grenade.


For its turn the enemy NPC Ronin moved forward 5 squares.
Quick Action: The Ronin boosted 5 squares forward. This activated it's chaff launcher trait which grants the Ronin Soft Cover until the end of their next turn. It also put it in range of Hardtack's held covering fire action &, if that hits, Screwloose's turret which can be fired as a reaction.
Quick Action: The Ronin took a Quick Tech Action and applied the Lock-On condition to Hardtack.

Your deployment zone is the bright green area you and the engineers occupy at the top of the map.
The area you need to escort the engineers to safely is the bright green area behind the enemy's deployment zone.
Initial enemy forces will deploy after you in the Red area they currently occupy
Enemy reinforments come in from areas that are Dark Red
Size 1 hard cover is Pink Assume that both you and the enemy have LOS for shooting over this cover to each other
Size 2 Soft Cover is Light Blue/turqoise . Assume you can shoot through it regardless of size as its foliage from tall trees.
Size 2 hard cover is Dark Blue

Soft cover from the smoke grenade will be marked in white on the map.

[Alteiner]

Fomalhaut surveys the battlefield from Crimson Lotus’s cockpit, checking his sensors and taking in the enemy formation. It was time to take the field. Aside from his mech’s assault rifle, his ranged options were limited. He’d need to charge into the field and use one of the enemy units as a shield against artillery, and entrust his life to the rest of the team.

“Crimson Lotus, engaging Hyperspec Fuel Injector.” he said, flipping open the trigger switch for the mech’s Power Up function, and pressing it in. Nearly every meter on the HUD began ramping up like haywire, and the roar of the reactor became nearly overwhelming. Fomalhaut sent the mech charging across the battlefield, triggered the rapid-burst jump jet system, and sent the red mech soaring. From the aerial vantage point, he identified the sword-wielding mech as a priority target. It was a different make, but the same general spec, as the kind of mech he’d used before being picked up by Union. It was the perfect test of the Everest’s abilities.

Fomalhaut directed his mech’s jump-jets to send him barreling towards the swordsman frame, tungsten alloy blade drawn, and directed the Everest into a masterful swing towards the Ronin, which missed it entirely.

“Dammit. Half-step too shallow." Fomalhaut growled, glaring at the unharmed Ronin. ”I’m acting like an amateur. Did I get the power output wrong?”


Activate Core Power: Power Up
Move, Boost and free action Boost for 12 squares of movement.
Enter Ronin’s engagement
Skirmish misses

[n0ble]

A deluge of fire from Hardtack and Screwloose envelopes the Ronin as the mecha jets forward on a spindly pair of legs. The mech's stance is well founded on two things that quickly become apparent. The first is it's guarded stance. Sparks burst and sizzle across the Ronin's blade as it deflects, reflects and rebounds the hail of fire that comes its way back from Hardtack. Whatever logic-drivers and telemetry processers are in the mech work wonders, sending the majority of the kinetics back to where they came from to impact with Hardtack's chassis. Some bullets make it in-just not most of them. The second are the chaff launchers on the Ronin's joints, the silent white smoke coming from them providing just enough cover that the ronin avoids the worst of the fire. Their nanocarbon sword stops dancing to HMG's song ends. The Ronin lunges forward, thrusting its sword into the ground as a sort of crutch to duck, avoiding both Screwloose's turret fire and Formalhaut's blade swing. The mech chassis withdraws the sword from where it was stabbed into Hercynia and spins its torso a full one hundred and eighty degrees to meet Formalhaut with silence and a flourish that flecks the mud from nanocarbon sword.

On the Ronin's opposite flank, Bastion speeds forward at a pace uncharacteristically fast for their bulk. They swing round the edge of an old tree-bole gnawed down to a stump near wide as they are. The drum barrel of their grenade launcher starts to cycle as the baroque looking launcher arcs munitions to fruitlessly scatter amidst the turret. The only casaulty from the rain of explosives appears to be the dead tree the turret crouches on-chipped and flecked with bits of shrapnel but still protecting, even in death.


On their turn, the Ronin was attacked by Hardtack's covering fire & Screwlooses turret. Hardtack hit for 13 damage, which was halved because its part of the Covering Fire action is 7. The Ronin used it's Rebound reaction vs. the Covering Fire: They roll 1d6: on 4+, they gain RESISTANCE to damage from that attack, and the attacker must repeat the attack against themselves. Rebound triggered, giving the Ronin resistance to the 7 damage inflicted on it from Covering Fire, reducing the damage to 4 total. Hardtack's attack against themselves (for half damage because its technically part of the Covering Fire action) hit and inflicted 13 damage on themselves (1 away from critting themselves too-holy crap) which was then halved down to 7 because it’s part of Covering Fire.

This is all to say that: Hardtack hit the Ronin on their turn for 4 damage with their reaction on the Ronin's turn, and took 7 damage back. The turret inflicted 3 damage.

On the Bastion's turn (after Formalhaut/Alteiner's Turn) the Bastion moved 4 spaces.
For their 1rst Quick action: the Bastion Boosted another 4 spaces
For their 2nd Quick action: the Bastion Skirmished with its Rotary Grenade Launcher at Screwloose's Turret, dealing 4 damage to the cover Hardtack and the Turret currently occupy but missing the turret itself.

Your deployment zone is the bright green area you and the engineers occupy at the top of the map.
The area you need to escort the engineers to safely is the bright green area behind the enemy's deployment zone.
Initial enemy forces will deploy after you in the Red area they currently occupy
Enemy reinforments come in from areas that are Dark Red
Size 1 hard cover is Pink Assume that both you and the enemy have LOS for shooting over this cover to each other
Size 2 Soft Cover is Light Blue/turqoise . Assume you can shoot through it regardless of size as its foliage from tall trees.
Size 2 hard cover is Dark Blue

Soft cover from the smoke grenade will be marked in white on the map.

[bc56]

Within his cockpit, as the chaos battle erupts, Worm takes a deep breath, mirrored by a shifting in Python's posture. Then he moves. Python's metal boots splatter mud as he rushes forward with the group. "Fitzgerald, with me!" He barks an order at one of the engineers, whose engines rev to life to follow the hacker mech. Python reaches the stump quickly. Crouching behind it, the mechs souped-up comm systems focus on the scout mech. Worm loads a virus he'd whipped up for just such an occasion, little more than a glorified spambot, and connects to the Scout's systems, poking a hole in its firewall to inject the hostile code. Soon the Scout's cockpit is flooded with flashing lights and loud noises, and the virus is taking control of the mech against the pilot's will, trying to overload the reactor and force it to move out of its cover.
But Worm isn't done yet. While the virus works, he takes advantage of his mech's abilities to choose a new target, the oversized Bastion mech. He pings it on radar once, then again, confirming its position and highlighting it on the tactical displays for his allies to see.
Boost up to Fitzgerald, then move into cover with him following. Successful Invade on Scout to Fragment Signal, consuming Lock On. It takes 2 Heat and is Impaired and Slowed until the end of its next turn. Hacker talent procs because I consumed Lock On on the tech attack, so it must also choose between taking 2 more heat or being pushed 3 spaces northwest. Then I take my 1/scene Everest quick action to Lock On to Bastion and end my turn.

[n0ble]

The enemy Scout stumbles and blares a full host of klaxxons as Worm trips any number of alarms, indicators and failsafes in the antagonistic spotter. They hunker down against themselves, refusing. At the same time, theres a visible blossom of heat as the reactor set at the Scout's sternum glows a caustic purple under Worm's sustained viral assault while their ping on the radar highlights the Bastion for all of you to see, somehow making it larger on the various sensors each of you has while highlighting the various weak spots and trajectories needed to place shots over the big 'bots shield.

The alarms of a viral attack and the Hercynian rain thats spatters and steams on the Scout's chassis is muted by the Archer powering forward across the waterlogged ground to your left. Steam rises from the lake for a moment and dissipates just as quickly as in-built jets help shoot the them across the water, leaving a narrow line of steam in their wake which dissipates to the chill of the rain just as quickly as it forms. Their boost slams them into a partially sunken stump. The Archer hefts their LGM onto the flat stump top, resting the broad coils of the ammo drum on the surface. They loose a torrent of fire thats the equal of the downpour. Aimed directly at ransom, the kinetics pour on and on and on. To those watching it seems all the Archer can do to direct the stream of metal their spits outs in Worm & Formalhaut's direction.


The enemy Scout took 2 heat rather than be moved northeast. This means they've taken 4 heat total.

The Archer moved 5 spaces this turn.
For their 1st Quick Action: The Archer Boosted 5 spaces through the difficult terrain to the hardcover it now occupies.
For their 2nd Quick Action: Because Worm was within 10 spaces of the Archer, they used their Hail of Fire system on Worm. Worm is now immobilized and impaired until the end of their next turn, until the Archer is stunned or jammed, or until Worm allows the Archer to attack them with a single weapon as a reaction.
The Archer also used its Suppress trait to impair Formalhaut. This lasts until lasts until the Archer uses Moving Target (when Formalhaut moves, the Archer can attack them as a reaction); the target damages the Archer or leaves the Archer’s line of sight; the Archer is Stunned, Jammed, or destroyed; the Archer chooses a new target for this action; or, the Archer ends it as a free action.


Your deployment zone is the bright green area you and the engineers occupy at the top of the map.
The area you need to escort the engineers to safely is the bright green area behind the enemy's deployment zone.
Initial enemy forces will deploy after you in the Red area they currently occupy
Enemy reinforments come in from areas that are Dark Red
Size 1 hard cover is Pink Assume that both you and the enemy have LOS for shooting over this cover to each other
Size 2 Soft Cover is Light Blue/turqoise . Assume you can shoot through it regardless of size as its foliage from tall trees.
Size 2 hard cover is Dark Blue

Soft cover from the smoke grenade will be marked in white on the map.

[DoctorFaust]

With a remarkably soft thoomp for the firepower it contains, Robert fires off a shell from Eliot's howitzer and then runs forward to enter the smoke screen. He curses softly under his breath as damage reports roll in before he enters the cloud, as they show his two primary targets he wanted to hit escaped unscathed. At least the secondary target seems to have sustained some damage, however slight. ""If anyone is planning on staying back here to suppress the four to the left, give me a second to drop a Jericho before you fire," he calls over the comms.

[n0ble]

As the smoke settles from the howitzer, the Bastion rolls the shoulder connected to its shield bearing arm and some of the burn crusted over the arm flecks away as it does. The head of their mech fairs worse: the force of the explosion has made a burnt crater of the right side of the Bastion's "head". Fully one entire optic circuit has been torn away, the upper half of the orbital and the face grille on the left of the mech's halved visage the only sign that anything was opposite it moments ago. As the dust and vapour kicked up by the explosion settle, its clear that whatever thermals were packed into the explosion elicit similar results wrought upon the tree. A quiet settles into the explosion's wake.

But only for a moment. Familiar gunfire breaches the silence-the discharge of Evergreen militia weapons far in the distance, including the distant echo of Hadura's cannon. There's a hail over your telemetry and comms that pings her squads location-far and away to be of much help in the moment but a comfort nonetheless, even if it is a late one in arriving. She very clearly tries, then fails to actually talk to you as gunfire on her end drowns things out. It seems your reinforcements will have to wait.

The enemy faces no such compunction. Hadura registers a second Ronin on your radar, one that deftly clears the jungle before it with a broad swing of their near identical nanocarbon sword. The new arrival tracks hard across the battlefield, coming to rest at the base of another sodden stump. A cloud billows out from the mech's torso with a strange winding sound as the second Ronin's four seperate eyes track and highlight weak spots on Formaulhaut.


The howitzer also did 4 damage to the terrain the Assault and Scout were hiding behind!
For enemy reinforcements, 1 Ronin (marked on the map as "Ronin 2") deployed in the reinforcement area on the map.
Turn order roles over (so if PCs go last NPCs open the next turn and vice versa.) Ronin 2 took its turn:

Ronin 2 moved forward five spaces
For their 1st Quick Action: The Ronin boosted forward another 5 spaces. Like Ronin 1, this caused their chaff launcer system to activate. Ronin 2 now has soft cover until the start of their next turn.
For their 2nd Action: Ronin 2 applied Lock-On to Formalhaut

Your deployment zone is the bright green area you and the engineers occupy at the top of the map.
The area you need to escort the engineers to safely is the bright green area behind the enemy's deployment zone.
Initial enemy forces will deploy after you in the Red area they currently occupy
Enemy reinforments come in from areas that are Dark Red
Size 1 hard cover is Pink Assume that both you and the enemy have LOS for shooting over this cover to each other
Size 2 Soft Cover is Light Blue/turqoise . Assume you can shoot through it regardless of size as its foliage from tall trees.
Size 2 hard cover is Dark Blue

Soft cover from the smoke grenade will be marked in white on the map.

[bc56]

Worm grimaces as the Archer's bullets slam into his cockpit, making a few new dents in Python's armor. He then detaches a grenade from his bandolier and throws it. A second billowing cloud of smoke obscures the forms of Python and Fitzgerald's transport moving through them for a better position. Through the cloud, he focuses his targeting systems on the Archer mech and then disengages his reactor safeties just long enough to give him the extra power needed to deploy another virus, identical to the one which had wounded the Scout, into the Archer's system.
Allowed the Archer to hit me. Threw a smoke grenade and moved up to its center with Fitzgerald. Locked on to the Archer, then Overcharged for 1 Heat and used Fragment Signal on it successfully. It takes 2 Heat, is Slowed and Impaired until the start of its turn, and must choose between taking 2 more Heat or being pushed 3 spaces East, out of its cover.

[n0ble]

The belt fed ammunition on the Archer's gun is a lighter caliber, with a few of the wider-pathed bullets ripping through the mech's flank before they thud into the sodden earth behind them. The fire is indiscriminate, scoring hits more on the sheer volume of shotput forward than any sort of accuracy. Steam rises from the where still hot ammunition's impacted, a hissing sound echoed by a fine mist simmering into the air by the "knee" high water the Archer stands in. The mech's reactor-clearly in the back of its torso for how the area glows molten-tries and fails to disperse the heat put onto to their system's by Worm's viral payload.

The salvo of information attacks and imported foreign coding is echoed by the Assault mech on your left. The mech blazes away with their heavy assault rifle, raking an even numbered diagonal of hits down Phlebas' chassis as the Assault puts kinetics into the mist. The bullets track alongside rudimentary targeting reticules that trace Eliot's location in the mist. The shots from the rifle bark out from the barrel, making heavy shearing sounds that spark in the mist on impact. The cacaphony is a prelude though: the Assault racks a grenade into the underslung of it's assault rifle, arching a shot to where it last registered the hits on Phlebas. As crimson and burnt orange blossom out through the cloud of the smoke grenade, it becomes apparent that, miraculously, nobody was struck by the falling ordinance, nor was anyone hurt by the resulting shrapnel. If one were to discount the tree stump shielding Hardtack, that is.


The Archer took its free attack as its reaction for this turn. This was a Part of the Hail of Fire action on T1and did 5 damage to Worm, who cleared immobilized and impaired as a result. They chose to take an additional 2 heat rather than be moved east and out of their hardcover.

The Assault did not move on its turn.
For their full action: the Assault Barraged with its heavy assault rifle & underslung grenade launcher. The heavy assault rifle hit Phlebas for 6 damage, while the grenade launcher missed, Phlebas, Screwloose's Turret & Hardtack, but did 4 damage to the hardcover Hardtack is behind.

Your deployment zone is the bright green area you and the engineers occupy at the top of the map.
The area you need to escort the engineers to safely is the bright green area behind the enemy's deployment zone.
Initial enemy forces will deploy after you in the Red area they currently occupy
Enemy reinforments come in from areas that are Dark Red
Size 1 hard cover is Pink Assume that both you and the enemy have LOS for shooting over this cover to each other
Size 2 Soft Cover is Light Blue/turqoise . Assume you can shoot through it regardless of size as its foliage from tall trees.
Size 2 hard cover is Dark Blue

Soft cover from the smoke grenade will be marked in white on the map.

[Alteiner]

Fomalhaut briefly adjusted the power output from the reactor. Powering up the fuel injector made the whole system so sensitive. The Everest made a Strike-1 look like a lumbering freighter with a busted power converter by comparison.

“That ought to do it.” He took a breath, tried to feel out the subtle sensitivity in the thrusters’ releases. Crimson Lotus shifted its weight through the stances, taking hold of both of its swords. “Alright. How about I show you what proper swordsmanship looks like?” Crimson Lotus stepped in and swiped the curved sword across the Ronin’s chest. After a beat, the plasma blade in the mech’s other hand came crashing down, carving through the Ronin’s armor like paper and leaving a cross-shaped pair of gashes in the armor. The curved slashing sword returned to its sheath, and Crimson Lotus steadied its grip on the heavy blade. Thrusters all over the mech’s chassis fired, accelerating the slash to tear through the Ronin’s frame and cut its reactor clean in half.

“That’s how it’s done.” Fomalhaut didn’t linger on his fallen foe. Enemy reinforcements had arrived, and another skirmisher frame was distressingly-close to the convoy. The long-range unit still had its sights set on him, but Crimson Lotus’s armor could survive a hit without faltering. Fomalhaut released the jet thrusters again, sailing off into the sky and landing within engagement range of the enemy swordsman.


Barrage against Ronin 1.
Activate Initiative. Skirmish against Ronin 1. Target Eliminated.
Standard Move. Accept Archer reaction is Archer has a reaction to give. Free action Boost to engage Ronin 2.

[n0ble]

Ratter hisses as it snags on the two halves of the still glowing Ronin reactor as they sputter into inactivity.Bits of blood fleck the diagonal 'x' thats been carved into the bisected from before something catches in the upper half and causes it to combust, fanned all the more by Formalhault's wake as the flit across the battlefield to engage the chassis-corpse's double on the far side of the field. Sighted fire from the Archer catches them, scoring deep gouges across and into Crimson Lotus' hull. Enough to register real damage readings.

The Archer doesnt stop. The barrage of kinetics does not cease. Instead, rather than continue direct it to Worm, the torrent of ammunition is widened as the Archer pivot's and pulls back their LMG on the stump of their hardcover to allow for a wider angle. Bth Worm and Phlebas are caught in the sweeping motion of its broad barrelled weapon. Sightings and targeting icons follow up through the haze of the smoke grenade, riding hidden signals and bits of code to find the weakpoints on Worm's chassis.


Ronin 1 is dead, first casualty! On Formalhaut's turn, the Archer used their reaction to deal 5 damage to Formalhaut, who is no longer Impaired.

The Archer's Hail of Fire Ability recharged.
For its First Quick Action: The Archer Used its optional Hail of Fire trait on Phlebas, who is now immobilized and impaired. This effect lasts until the Archer uses Moving Target; the target damages the Archer or leaves the Archer’s line of sight; the Archer is Stunned, Jammed, or destroyed; the Archer chooses a new target for this action; or, the Archer ends it as a free action.
For their Second Quick Action: The Archer Locked-on to Worm as a quick tech action.

Your deployment zone is the bright green area you and the engineers occupy at the top of the map.
The area you need to escort the engineers to safely is the bright green area behind the enemy's deployment zone.
Initial enemy forces will deploy after you in the Red area they currently occupy
Enemy reinforments come in from areas that are Dark Red
Size 1 hard cover is Pink Assume that both you and the enemy have LOS for shooting over this cover to each other
Size 2 Soft Cover is Light Blue/turqoise . Assume you can shoot through it regardless of size as its foliage from tall trees.
Size 2 hard cover is Dark Blue

Soft cover from the smoke grenade will be marked in white on the map.

[technoRomancer]

With the nudge of a joystick, Screwloose twists Toybox-1 free of the bullet-riddled tree trunk and sends it skittering across the path to dive into a dense clump of foliage, sensors poking out to glare at the enemy mechs. "Hmm... let's see if we can't flush these goons out of cover." Directing Castor to follow, she scuttles from one patch of smoke to the next as Kit's pod rotates into a new configuration. A subdued thump sends rubble bouncing as a mortar shell trail out of the smoke cloud to land behind the trio of mechs in a blast of flame and debris.

Pod already spinning around, Screwloose turned its impressive sensor suite towards the Archer harrying their escape route, light and heat gathering in the frame's only obvious weapon mount. "Outta the way, man!" A haphazard trail of plasma insta-boiled mud behind the Archer and sent a burst of superheated steam through the trees. An assault pilot she was not, but hopefully a show of firepower would get these malcontents playing a bit more cautiously and give them some breathing room to get the engies out of the line of fire.

Protocol to move the drone turret.
Moving Screwloose and Castor around the trunk, staying in the smoke.
Skirmish - Fire Mortar at the Assault.
Quick Tech - Lock On to the Archer.
Initiative - Skirmish with Thermal Lance at the Archer, and take 2 heat.
If hit, turret will follow up on the Archer.

[n0ble]

The discharge from Screwloose's thermal lance cuts a pathway of steam through the rain and across the water thats pooled around the Archer's feet, adding to the steam already put into the air and the boiling mud. Despite the intensity and sheer output of laser being concentrated on the enemy mechs position, the Archer flings themselves forward onto their cover. The almost hug they drape over their LMG is an oddly sapient gesture, the compassion of the action at odds with the fact that their gun is still firing.

The results from the mortar fair better, if only just: while the shrapnel and thermal detonation do nothing but scorch the Bastion & Scout, the small smoke cloud from the explosion parts to reveal several pieces of shrapnel lodged in the shoulder guard of the Assault's shoulder. As though Galvanized by the damage done to their companion, the Scout swings their Marker rifle into place, bringing crosshairs and a single laser dot sight superimposed onto Screwloose's hull.

It's the last anyone physically sees of the enemy on the battlefield's left flank. Something quietly whirs into motion within the Scout as the mecha braces itself into the ground. A shimmer superimposes itself over the space the Scout and their companions occupy. Bends light. Bleeds out new earth tones to match the mud and ground and perspirations that already clings to the enemy. As one, the Bastion Assault & Scout vanish from conventional vision like they've been edited from reality. The only clue to where they are can be registered in the thermal traces from reactors and faint outlines one can see from sensor pings & the whine of mechanical servos.


From Screwloose's attacks: the Assault took 2 damage. They missed the Archer

On their turn, the Scout stayed still.
For their first Quick action: The Scout hit Screwloose with their Marker Rifle, inflicting Lock-on. While Screwloose has the Lock-on condition, they are shredded, cant hide and cant become invisible.
For their Second Quick Action: The Scout use their cloaking field. Every ally-including the Scout-within a burst 3 area emenating from the scout (Assault, Bastion & Scout) is now Invisible while within the field. The Scout is immobilized while this is active, and it lasts until the end of their next turn.

[Volthawk]

Sticks had gotten close enough now. Time to do some damage. Readying his rocket launcher as the Snapdragon acquires a lock, he fires at where the cluster of enemy mechs were a few moments ago - hopefully that would still do some damage, give them something to think about. As he watches the rocket fly, a ping alerts him that the Snapdragon was ready to fire, so it soon also flies out, headed towards the contact to the left.

With that done, it was time to move. Pushing Avalanche's systems further, Sticks takes to the front, a quick word to Yuki sending the engineer off to the left behind the trees. As he moves and takes in the changing battlefield, Tobias' voice returns over the comms. "Fomalhaut, that's your flank. Cover it, make them scrap. Worm, do you have your flank covered or do you need more support?" The already impressive stature of Avalanche is enhanced somewhat when the banner is raised, marked with the symbols of the Union Navy and of the squad. "They're taking losses. Push the advantage!"


Protocol: Activating my shield against the Assault - if it attacks me until my next turn, it suffers +2 Difficulty.

Barrage:
Firing RPG at top-right square of the Bastion (Ordnance, so need to fire before moving and that's the closest spot), hitting it, the Assault and the Scout (latter behind hard cover). As they're invisible, there's a 50% miss chance, but that's fine.
Firing Snapdragon Launcher at the Archer.

Free action: Using Issue Order to give Formalhaut one Leadership Dice to attack Ronin 2 - if he does so, he gets an Accuracy and I go down to 2 dice, if not it's returned to me.

Then taking my move, getting to a position where most of us (all but Fitzgerald, by my reckoning) can see me. Also gives Phlebas the benefit of Guardian. With that move, sending Yuki to behind the tree's full cover (you can move escorts away from you when you activate them, right? If they need to stay adjacent, then he'll move to stay behind me and within Guardian range).

Overcharge to activate my core system: Raise the Banner. Gives allied characters in line of sight of me resistance to all damage and heat and +1 Accuracy on all checks and saves until my next turn.

[n0ble]

The damage Stick's RPG washes from the bastion as sort of sort of projected energy field flickers into being before momentarily dissipating to the blast. The Scout is far from as lucky: they all but crumple under the explosion, with near half the mech revealed missing and wobbling like a drunk once the smoke is cleared. The Archer fairs little better: in Stick's hands Patience's new mutintions are an absolute terror to behold, striking the Archer with an enfilade straight in the chest in a blow that strips all but the shielded cockpit frame, a few visual sensors and large calibre LMG from the mecha.

The Bastion wordlessly roars over the comms and brings their shield bear against any more incoming fire, maneuvering the great slab of metal so that it encompasses the assault adjacent to them. Their grenade launcher clicks and whirs as more grenades are belt fed into the cylinders of the weapon.


Sticks utterly wrecked this turn: did 7 damage to the Bastion, but I'd forgotten about its deathcounter ability-it reduces the first instance of damage it takes each turn to 0. The Assault took 2 damage because of its armour, while the Scout took a whopping 7 damage. The archer was hit by the snap dragon and ended up taking a massive 14 damage.

On their turn the bastion activated their Friendly Interdiction Field. The Bastion and Assault now have resistance to damage
from Phlebas until the Bastion chooses a new target.
As a full action, the Bastion reloaded their grenade launcher.

[Seanfall]

Ezra's hands raced as he put out warnings and assessed damage. "Took some damage but nothing serious right now. Operational capacity?" The comp/con united responded a second later. "Within acceptable parameters." Ezra smiled and gripped the controls, bullets and explosions and others beside went off all around him. "Well seems those deflectors are down, let's poke the big guy and light'em up."

Hardtack punched the throttle boosting behind sticks using the massive mech as walking cover before lining the Bastion up in his sights. "Hardtack here, making it loud." The machine gun rose before unleashing a barrage of rounds, a staccato burst of gunfire at the biggest target on the field. But that wasn't all, Shango's missile pods opened up and lit the battlefield up with a boom that rivaled the thunder.


Free action: Boost behind Sticks.

Full action: Barrage - Attacking with the heavy machine gun and Missile pods.

hyperspec fuel injector gives +1 Accuracy to my attacks.

[n0ble]

Hardtack's vengeful fusilade rips the Bastion and any sort of shielding it might have had apart-or would have if aimed slightly askance to where the Bastion's position momentarily flickers into what the eye can see before the Scout's stealth cloaking blankets it once more into obscurity. The Archer is less lucky.

Faced with the prospect of facing almost your entire team by itself the LMG toting mecha almost looks like its going to retreat. Then Elliot's snapdragon makes contact with the centre mass of their chassis, igniting whatever munitions remain in the mechs weapon in the process to cause a backwards explosion that burst out the Archer's back and sees it to the ground. Dead.

Hadura's team is close, if the enroaching fire is anything to go by. As though on cue, another enemy Ronin cuts through the sprawl and tangle of jungle on the side opposite it's twin. The new arrival rushes forward and follows already splayed targeting reticules on Worm to aim a slash at the mech's femur-structures. The nano carbon of the blade cuts deep, striking something vital in the electronic warfare mech.


Top of T3 reinforcements arrived: another "normal" Ronin in the top right reinforcement zone.

The Ronin moved 5 spaces to engage Worm
For their 1st Quick Action: they consumed the Lock on in place on Worm to hit for 6 damage, structuring Worm :smalleek:
For their 2nd Quick Action: they reapplied the Lock on Condition

[bc56]

Worm, R3

The Ronin's blade slashes into the side of Python's chassis, cutting a deep scrape across the paint, but the defensive enhancements provided by Sticks' banner hold the attack off just long enough. In response, Worm unslings his plasma maul. The weapon sizzles in the pouring rain as he slams it into the enemy mech's face. But he's not done yet. He follows it up by swinging the haft of the weapon into the center of the Ronin's mass, knocking it flat onto its back, and then whips out a pistol and proceeds to blast it in the head while it's down. Brutal, yes, but effective. Even if it survives, it'll think twice about tangling with him again. Worm beckons to Fitzgerald and runs through the mud up to a convenient bush, where he hunkers down for cover. These last few seconds have been strenuous; his reactor is blaring warnings at him to ease up.

Attack the Ronin with the plasma maul, landing a critical hit and dealing 17 damage, incurring 2 Heat from Overkill. Then Ram the Ronin successfully knocking it back 1 space and Prone. Next, Overcharge, taking 1 more Heat and skirmishing with both pistols, dealing 2 damage with the first shot and 1 with the second. Lastly, move myself and Fitzgerald up into the nearby soft cover area.

[n0ble]

Worm's plasma maul impacts with a dull thud and for a moment a silence swells. Then its banished as the air screams with the heat of the maul's discharge and the air burns, carrying the maul forward into the Ronin's chassis. Burnt fuselage, a mechanical spinal structure and burning blood are flung out the back, collecting in a pile of glowing fragments that hiss like snakes in the rain. The ronin stumbles back looking like it was rocked by a metorite or a petajule kinetic. The pilot grunts, sounding like their lungs have taken on fluids. The begin to raise their blade in time with Worm's first pistol. Then Worm's headshot takes them clean through the "head". With a groan of metal, the second Ronin topples backwards. Dead.

The flank opposite the now dead Ronin & Archer materializes, seemingly from thin air, as some sort of internal mechanism within the Scout fails to continue winding. Targeting reticules lash out and bathe Stick's weak points in chassis for their other team members. Not yet done, the Scout totters for a moment before boosting backwards with what few microjets stubbornly cling to their wasted frame. They they continue moving after-slamming themselves into the hardcover near the enemy deployment zone.


The Scout began the turn with their 1st quick action: They hit Sticks with their Marker Rifle. Sticks is locked on, and as long as they are locked on they are also shredded and cant hide or become invisible.
For their 2nd Quick Action: The Scout Boosted five squares away.
They then moved 3 squares into Hardcover.

[Seanfall]

Seeing his vengeful assault negated, Hardtack cracked his neck and unleashed another flurry of rounds and missiles at his target. "Alright, alright! LET'S SEE YA DODGE THIS STORM!"



Full action: Barrage again.

Nat 20 on that Missle pod.