[center][b][h2][color=f26522]Jonathan McCord[/color][/h2][/b][/center]


Jon smirked a bit at Marit’s comment. “[color=f26522]Nah, I wouldn’t try it.[/color]” He said, answering her question about crossing the dam. His tone was a little lighter and the drawl in his voice was more evident on the radio. There was a roadway across the top of the structure that would accommodate vehicles. He reckoned a Flea or a Locust could probably scamper across, but he didn’t know of anyone trying anything heavy and she was only five tonnes lighter than him. He was on the verge of a slick remark about her coming and trying to take the stick from him when the Heavenly Sword decided to show up and derail his trash talking. He set the master-arm making his weapons hot and glanced again at his watch: Almost shift-change for the dam. [color=f26522][i]Right on time.[/i][/color] He thought. A couple more small tablet-size screens came to life around him that had been fastened inside the cockpit as the whole machine “woke-up” from its napping, passive state, feeding him more information that had been curated according to need over time. However, he reached past those high-tech offerings for a simple handheld radio. The same as the ones carried by the dam security crew. The shift lead spoke just before he could hit the push-to-talk button.

“[i]Mudcrutch, this is AVC3![/i]” The voice crackled with a hint of excitement bleeding through the corporate veneer. The number three in the callsign denoted the third shift. “[i]Got a copy?[/i]” 

“[color=f26522]Yeah, I see’em. Stay cool. If you see something, call it out and I’ll help.[/color]” He clipped the radio back behind his head.   

Raven had entered the fray first with a circus-stunt display of jumping the river, but to his credit had done a fair job of sewing chaos among the attackers. There were [i]a lot[/i] of them and at a glance of the sensor screen, Jon had to concede that if he had to take on the mission solo, it could have been an unholy shitshow. The Knights’ opener reminded him of an old Taurian battle doctrine. A tenet he knew as he watched the column of Heavenly Sword vehicles scatter in disarray, Sgt. Dalton would be thinking as well: [i]Attack the enemy hard enough and fast enough and he will forget his loyalty and his numbers to try and save himself from the wrath about to sit down upon him.[/i] Exploding vehicles pockmarked the landscape blooming in the early morning like orange flowers from the still dark terrain. Explosive echoes reverberated through the river valley and he could see the muzzle flash of some of the [i]Buckshot Boys[/i] heavier machine guns raking arcs of instant death into vehicles never designed for frontline combat. It was as Raven described. They were all loaded for bear and it slowed them into a killing field that they never expected. He shook his head a little.

With the Von Luckner opening up, the Knights had effectively trapped the column into an arrowhead shaped ambush that used the river to help tighten the noose- It was one less place to run and a couple vehicles had already lost control and crashed into it. Jon knew Raven was pushing the angle, trying to arch around and keep up the crossfire but he was particularly interested in whatever was stopping Marit from firing. Like her, his shots were wasted on small trucks and cars, though he was curious if he could clip a dirtbike on a dead run from well over half a kilometer. He zoomed in, looking past Raven. The Marauder’s torso turned slowly in the dark and the reticle over Jon’s eye separated as he disengaged the arm-lock with a small motion of his fingers like he was readying a double-set trigger on an ancient rifle not unlike the one painted on the side of his machine. He took a slow breath and let it out, relaxing in the seat. It was still hard to see the drones with the mix of darting headlights and explosions staring back at him in the narrowed zoom window. Only a flex of his fingertips moved the sighted reticle upwards. It would be a PPC shot. A large truck came apart in a massive plume and he could see the underside of their saucer-like shape, wafting unsteadily in the morning breeze and dumping something as they moved, the particles glistened in the firelight. “[color=f26522]I got it Knights, throttle back.[/color]” He said. “[color=f26522]Danger close.[/color]” The crosshairs lazily passed over the drone and his hand on the column tightened over the trigger.

For a seasoned mechwarrior the sound of a PPC shot was familiar. The flash came first in a high velocity bolt followed by the sonance, like a high caliber cannon shot combined with the jagged soundwaves of a tesla coil. The pinpoint arrowhead of the burst tended to make a unique spectacle upon impact spreading over the target as the excess energy was dispersed even though it was a precision weapon. For the uninitiated however, it was a vision of awe and terror so incomprehensible in its shock presence through the dark of the river valley that the majesty of the Celestial Throne suddenly felt distant like a god that had unexpectedly turned its gaze away from the faithful. The first Gossamer drone in the line, supplemented like all the others with excess hydrogen gas to improve its lifting ability, was a fireball before the hateful techno-static report of the shot arrived. Its payload of fine metal filaments meant to disrupt sensors instead became a hellish molten rain that melted and burned into whatever or whoever was unfortunate enough to be nearby. The air crackled unnaturally amid agonized screams before the next shot arrived scorching the air again in electric fire.   

Jon watched the second drone erupt in a shower of burning rain. A quick glance down showed the sensor screen starting to clear as the weapon cycle alert chirped in his ear that the first barrel was ready to fire again. Gently he rotated the crosshair for another shot. It was barely even a perceptible motion. The channel buzzed with Sgt. Dalton giving orders on the ground and he thought he could hear another Knight commando shout something along the lines of [i][color=limegreen]Don’t shoot let’em burn![/color][/i] which he found satisfying. Still, other than brief glimpses of their distant silhouettes in the chaotic light, there was too much general mayhem for him to get a good look at the next pair of drones farther down. If the operators had any sense about them they would start moving them apart, but he also knew they couldn’t get [i]too[/i] separated or they wouldn’t be able to cover their allies from the Knights’ sensors. He keyed the mic: “[color=f26522]Buckshot, pop a flare to the east. Help us get a visual and we can take out the rest.[/color]” 

The Marauder’s torso rotated again, only slightly, before the characteristic muzzle flash of his AC5 briefly lit up the the air around him and the shot went down range only arcing slightly in the distance at the edge of its range and crashing through the backseat of Burro support truck attempting to train its machine guns on some of Dalton’s troopers.

[@Starlance]
[@Bork Lazer]