Starlance

Mechwarrior: Disposable Heroes

Hearing what Reya asked of Family Man, Marit walked Archie over to the containers closest to the entrance. Lifting three to get a feel for their weight, she dragged them over to the side of the gate, pausing to look around the sky after every one, then grabbed another one to steal on their way out and left it a little ways off. When suddenly…

"Family Man here; picking up hostiles,"

She would’ve preferred a direction and type. She’d been looking North-east at the time Rivers detected the gunships, making her usual proficiency with long range detection null and void. Seeing which way the Shadow hawk was turned, she quickly spun Archie’s torso to face the correct direction and hit the missile door switch, an indicator light and the correct duration of the hum of the motors behind her letting her know that the doors had opened. There! Three contacts, the radar identified them as H-7 Warriors, gunning right for them. Not the air support Marit had been expecting. Though family Man said he’d handle them, she judged fast and certain elimination a priority. If all three weren’t destroyed in rapid succession, the survivor would only need a second or so to dive for the deck to break line of sight and escape, exposing them. At least that was her line of thought as she locked onto the farthest contact, the square on her HUD around the dot in the sky and steady tone telling her the missiles were ready to fire. Ingrid’s order dispersed all doubts. ”Yes ma’am.”

She thumbed the trigger, the cockpit temperature instantly rising by a couple degrees and the deep ‘whoosh’ of fired missiles echoing through the cockpit as she watched her missiles arch toward the third gunship a second behind the quintet of Family Man’s ordnance. That autocannon shot was a good one, getting the lead, drop and windage this quickly and at that range, Marit thought with a bit of envy. One day, perhaps…

11 volleys left. She waited for everyone to get out of the base, ushering them with a wave of Archie’s hand, then placed one of the prepared shipping containers across the gate, piling two more on top in a haphazard fashion to make removing them by crane harder. Busted road, blocked gate, mines everywhere preventing bypassing them. The locals would have to work hard to get this depot back up and running. ”By the time we’re done here, there will be insults coined bearing our name.” She could vividly imagine someone calling their sibling ‘...such a Green Knight!’ for making their life difficult, doing her callsign justice as she spoke. Picking up her selected container, she held it below the cockpit, having to extend it forward due to where an Archer’s cockpit was and lean Archie’s torso back a bit awkwardly to balance the weight out.

Aces of the Void - Starfighter Squadron RPG

I think Silverwind has dropped completely due to outside stuff, he hasn't been online for 25 days and at least 40 before that.

The Conflict

It had been going relatively well, given the situation. Edgar even agreed to the terms without any discussion. She was looking forward to a bit of rest and a meal. And then they get booted into the rain. Wishful thinking, it was still as hot and dry as ever. And she still had no idea what that superstitious drivel was all about. “Yobannyy kusok chlena…” Yekaterina muttered incredulously with a shake of her head. She didn’t quite fancy raiding Melani’s pantry, worried it would turn out to contain the last guy who pissed her off. Worst of all it probably wasn’t even outside the realm of possibility with that broad. Military food rations were added to the wishlist. Some of the only food around they could be sure was safe to eat, not to mention other usual contents of MREs like coffee, water purification tablets and tissues.

“You want it, don’t you?” She jested, chambering a round and unfolding the stock of her AKS as Sean spoke of Melani’s machete. It was a good point though, bringing a whole body would be impractical and the odds of finding a working camera along the way looked slim. At least Victor and his skull crackers were pretty much guaranteed to be far gone, almost certainly hidden behind layers of reinforced concrete, mercs and razor wire. Not that she would mind an easy chance to crack him over the head with a brick if the opportunity presented itself. One day, perhaps.

Although they were headed back into the lion’s mouth, she still liked their chances. Urban combat was nasty, yes, but the same things that disadvantaged them also plagued the other side, and while the locals had quantity on their side, they had quality. They weren’t the only westerners in the country, true, but she’d expect most of those to be scooped up by the companies and not wasted on what was, by the looks of it, a proxy war using local gangs. More likely they were on alert to protect actual company assets from said proxy war. “One decently set up machine gun nest and they’ll turn the car into a sieve. The Hilux might survive that, us not so much. You think they’d buy that we’re journalists with escort or some such line of bull, or is that wasted effort?” Yekaterina wondered. And speaking of the Hilux…

She walked around the car, seemingly scrutinizing every square inch, “Not a bad catch. Not much rust, tires even and not too worn. Front brakes could use replacing. Nothing visibly wrong with the front springs and shock absorbers. Could steal a bed cap from another one if we find one…” The Russian reached down the driver’s footwell when Sean opened the door to pop the hood, “Battery even looks new-ish. Winch battery is missing though. Ah, well, you can’t win them all.”

Mechwarrior: Disposable Heroes

With the rest of the tanks gone, mopping up the rest of the turrets didn’t take long. Now the fun part of the plan could start, like shopping at a duty-free. The ground literally trembled underneath their feet as the ‘Mechs stomped up to the base like gods of war. ”Say your prayers, evildoers!” She shouted at the remaining Espian Guards through the external speakers, her words in stark contrast to the inappropriately cheerful tone, ”You’ve got exactly until we run out of patience to dismount, disarm and surrender. Failing that, we’ll revoke your breathing privileges with extreme prejudice.” There was some reason to feel optimistic. Between the speed, surprise, violence of action and a lance of BattleMechs, very few seemed to have any fight in them. Smart choice, but like any time they let the other side surrender, she had to ask herself if they would’ve been shown the same courtesy were the roles reversed. She liked to think - no, hope - so, but they knew the answer to that when it came to the Crimson Fists was ‘no’, she thought glumly as muted shotgun blasts indicated some Espian Guards decided they’d rather hand over their breathing privileges.

But still they were only halfway done, no time to start celebrating yet. Early celebrations were a good way to call down bad luck on your head. In order to avoid the ground pounders flitting about the base, Marit walked Archie back toward the base entrance, turning in 90 degree increments every few seconds as she scanned the sky, thankful for the Archer’s good visibility, her left hand fingers resting right next to the missile covers switch. As the minutes ticked by and the timer approached the eight minute mark, she got more and more anxious. ”That air support is about to become a factor if I got my math right.” She cautioned. Perhaps she could’ve phrased that differently, it was no secret that wasn’t her strong suit. ”Should we grab some of those containers on our way out?”

Mechwarrior: Disposable Heroes

”Shit, sorry!” Marit blurted out when Ziska made her aware of her mistake, giving the stuck button a whack. She had remembered to sacrifice two slices of the sausage that came with her breakfast ration to Kerensky and ask for the General’s blessing on this mission, but apparently - true to her species - she conserved energy and only blessed the outcome, not its full duration. In her infinite wisdom, Kerensky probably set it up this way so they could get all the bad luck out of the way before the shooting actually started.

Everything that was supposed to be on was on, everything that was supposed to be off was off. She pulled the seatbelts tight, leaving the shoulder straps a bit loose to help her with looking around and keyed the mic twice to confirm she understood the instructions, this time checking that the button had gone back to the ‘receive’ position as intended. She flexed both of the Archer’s elbows, making sure the right one moved the same as the left one. Minhas did a good job. As they were told to ready up, the Archer, towering over everything except Ingrid’s Ostroc, leaned forward, ready to accelerate to its top speed of… barely enough to trigger a speed trap.

And then the patrols noticed them. Some of them. One of the Scorpions didn’t get to look at them for long as Steel Rain fired, taking its hat clean off with their first shot, though both still managed to get rounds off at Ramrod and Family Man. Marit kept her launcher covers closed for the time being, her attention now split between the patrol, cursory glances at the gate and periodic scans of the skies. Archie being the slowest ‘Mech they had available at the time, Marit could ram the throttle open without worrying she would break station at the back of the formation. Raising the ‘Mech’s arms and aligning all four lasers on the nearest striker, Marit fired the arm-mounted pair first, followed by the top mount if necessary to keep the heat down as much as she could, trying to take it out or at least disarm it before it had time to shoot. Perhaps an overkill, but there were more weapons than targets to go around so far.

Now, what sort of air power were they supposed to have? It started with ‘M’, of that she was sure, was it Meteors? Or Mechbusters? Had to be Meteors, the Mechbuster was too new to have made it all the way here from the Dracs, right? Right. Now what sort of armaments did that have? A gun and missiles, but which? AC2 and SRMs? AC10 and LRMs? That would make sense, missiles strip armor at range, autocannon finishes it off up close. Plus hardpoints. Now how many? A wing. Two, four, six? Total, but how many would they send? Two sounded reasonable. As did four, but they’d definitely keep some in reserve, surely they wouldn’t send everything at once. When? Balya Zvezda spaceport was around 350 km away according to the map. How fast could Meteors be at low altitude? 1200 kph? 2400? Less than nine minutes assuming the latter, if they launched now. Even less if they were already in the air.

Mechwarrior: Disposable Heroes

The past few hours might have even been considered pleasant. The ‘Mech had warmed up after the trying affair that was taking off one’s clothes and putting on the cooling vest that had been stored in that cold cockpit for a week. Like getting into cold boots in the morning, except worse. She knew it wouldn’t last, that the pendulum was about to swing over to the other side in a matter of minutes. From chilly through the midpoint of mildly toasty to… well, a fighting BattleMech. Remembering the Colonel’s words about the weather forcing enemy air assets low and into range, she called up the ammo management system and set the missile racks to feed into the upper LRM 10 launcher, then set it to a separate weapons group and switched the 15 and the other 10 to safe to avoid accidentally pulling their triggers out of habit. She doubted anyone would fly in this fog, but it would probably clear up soon.

As they approached, she kept an eye on the patrol, paying extra attention to the Strikers. ”Gigs here. Master arm on, ready to rumble. Knight One, I take it the Colonel’s order to keep LRMs for AA duty stands?” She checked in with Ramrod, keeping her fingers well away from triggers to avoid a negligent discharge. ”And if you figured out a way to do this without shooting at poor truck drivers, now’s the time to share.” Despite the chafing between their viewpoints, Marit agreed that shooting at people wasn’t ideal, even if both women would’ve probably said the other one thought so for the wrong reasons. Now waiting for instructions, she returned to her usual method of killing time, picking up where she left off.

“Warriors of the northern lands; Madness forged into our hearts; Shields be shattered, arms of steel; Let the axes fly with fury.
Raging thunder shakes the skies; The Wrath of battle stains our minds; Rage of vengeful kings of war; Fearless sons and daughters fall.”

She sang quietly to herself, blissfully unaware her push to talk had stuck open.

The Conflict

“Toss in a meal on top of it if you can spare some, we’ve been running on hopes and prayers since sunrise.” Yekaterina added to Bethan’s bartering list, the stress of the previously dangerous situation washing away and reminding her the last time she’d eaten was at the SAMC compound before Victor approached them. “The person backing Bowaylo is one Victor Manar, head of SAMC human resources.” She added, thinking that maybe Edgar could use it somehow. “Had us steal a truck full of weapons from the Dry Trail, driver included, all apparently off the books.”

Hayden was onto something with the Greek allegory. Tangayi was their personal Labyrinth of Crete, with an awful lot of Minotaurs in it. It seemed like Edgar might be their Ariadne, getting them a line out of the labyrinth’s depths. Except a lot of things have so far seemed to be one thing and turned out to be something else and unlike Theseus, they weren't there to deal with whatever was in the labyrinth. They were after King Minos himself. And if she ever got out of there alive, she’d have a sternly-worded message for the Daedalus who engineered the whole mess.

“Right, okay, since we didn’t get a good look out the windows on the ride here, we’re either gonna need a good map or a guide to get us back into the den of madness. Given what’s going on outside, going on foot sounds more survivable, but time and distance do weird things when you’re blindfolded in the back of a van, so I don’t know if that is an option.” She started weaving an outline of a plan so they weren’t stuck trying to figure it out in the morning or making it up as they went like the last time, “If we’re lucky, most of Bowaylo’s cutthroats are going to be busy slaughtering or getting slaughtered by COGS mercs or your people, or both, leaving only a token guard to police the zones behind the front lines. Therefore, with the luck we’re having, her compound is going to make Fort Knox hide in shame. Either way, I suggest we go some extra distance and approach from a direction where the fighting is the lightest, if at all possible. One question though: Are you sure killing Melani won’t spur her lackeys into a vengeful crusade?” She wondered, “Yes, she doesn’t strike me as someone who commands undying loyalty from her people, more of a ‘rule with fear’ type, but you never know with nutters.”

Yekaterina then turned to address Edgar’s associate who asked about their desired information, carefully watching their reactions as she spoke. “The Hyena. Who, where, how, when, as much as you can get.”

Mechwarrior: Disposable Heroes

Muttering a remark about keeping ‘all ten of her missiles’ in reserve for any aircraft, Marit waited for most of the people to clear out of the space where the briefing was held before she took her leave, heading straight back to the ‘Mech bays, now armed with a concrete idea of what they’d be doing. With four tons of ammo, an Archer-2R had enough missiles to make someone’s life miserable for two straight minutes. Not Archie. At some point in his no doubt storied life, one of his caretakers decided enough was enough and added three heat sinks. As a result of the weight saving measures necessary to do that, the salvo size shrunk from 40 to 35, meaning Archie could now make someone’s life a living hell for slightly longer.

At least that would’ve been the case if they weren’t shit broke. There was so much empty space in the ammo racks she could hide a small car in there. Climbing up the scaffolding that made up their ‘Mech bays, she joined a grumpy-looking technician enjoying a smoke break.
”Afternoon, Dave. So, half a ton of LRMs is 120 missiles, yes?” She asked, declining an offered cigarette with a shake of her head.
“Checks out.” He replied in a tired voice. Like all the men working on Archie, Lister had spent the previous days learning the ins and outs of the ‘Mech. Since Archie’s regular crew didn’t make it out of the city and were likely locked up at Tie Shan, the crew currently assigned to him was a Frankenstein’s monster made up of personnel from three different teams who managed to escape and who weren't more suited for a different active ‘Mech.
”And 120 divided by 15 comes out to… Eh…”
Lister let Marit struggle with the math for a second. “Eight.”
”Thank you. Eight volleys with the 15 launcher or 12 with one of the tens, so let’s put all the missiles into the left torso.“ She opted for more, smaller volleys and the option to switch to the second LRM-10 launcher if one became damaged, ”The Colonel wants them kept in reserve for anti-air, so it looks like lasers on this run anyway.”
“Well, Wyatt’s been through here a few hours ago, so if you can be sure of anything in the next twelve hours, it’s that the lasers are as good as they’re ever gonna get.”
Marit grunted in agreement, wrapping her jacket more closely around her as a draft picked up.
“Lovett said the Scrap Yard is opening tonight. You coming?”
”Normally I’d get a beer and watch, but tomorrow is an early riser and we have no beer.“ She half joked, ”If someone feels the need to prove their point to me with a fist tonight I’m game, but they’ll have to wake me up first. You?”
“Don’t talk about beer, that makes me miss it even more.” The tech grumbled, “Rimmer nearly took my eye out when he dropped a screwdriver from the scaffold, after I told him a hundred times to keep his smegging tools secured. Hope you bring back some porridge from the raid, he’ll be eating through a straw when I’m done with him.” He vented, pointing out a fresh scar on his head.

Mechwarrior: Disposable Heroes

Unlike Tarak, Marit didn’t even bother stifling her laughter as she could practically see the steam shooting out of Ingrid’s ears. Despite her usual attitude, everyone had things that rubbed them the wrong way, and the Rasalhagenaar never kept her generally low opinions of nobility a secret. She would have even clapped following Ziska’s performance.

That said, she had seen enough barroom brawls before joining the Knights to see that Ingrid was about to blow a gasket for real. Swallowing a remark about Ingrid making mockery of herself and forcing on a neutral expression, she was about to try to douse the embers before something caught fire when the Colonel appeared like a specter and laid down the law. The man had ears everywhere. Marit would’ve suspected he had Huginn and Muninn on his payroll if it wasn’t verifiable that the Knights currently only had one Raven that saw everything in their ranks. All she could do was spare a look of pity for Ziska.

---

Some 250 km to target. The slowest vehicle they had was the Von Luckner at 50-odd km/h. In practice, it’d be less than that. It was looking like over five hours in the cockpit just to get there and another five plus to get back. Even more to get back if someone got their legs mangled in the fight or if the supply trucks had trouble with terrain. 15 minutes, give or take, according to the Colonel until problems started and who knew how long the fight would take when they did. The travel time meant waking up around midnight. At least the closest Crimson Fists Lance - she assumed - was just as far away according to the map. She found herself disagreeing with the senior MechWarrior though: Planning for success of this endeavor wasn’t foolish, it was the only thing they had left. In their situation, planning for failure might have as well included a shotgun with the trigger guard sawed off so you could pull the trigger with your toe. One of the tankers started talking shit. Morven, was it? ”Mate, WE are effectively guerilla layabouts. Or at least we will have to act the part if we want to live to see the end of the month.” Hiding between hit and run attacks was all they had left, their only hope being bringing down the opposition with bug bites.

”I wouldn’t be too worried about remaining loyal to house Liao. They probably have bigger fires to put out at the moment, otherwise they’d be here already. They’ll take Espia back eventually, but by then we’ll be gone, one way or another. Otherwise Mister Sameve makes a good point. And besides, who’s more likely to eventually help us storm a heavily guarded prison and then take over a spaceport: A loose alliance of guerilla groups or an organized force headed by actual leadership?” She opined.

”And speaking of ROE, what do we do if we can’t secure the supplies for ourselves? Deny them to the enemy?” She asked her own questions, still studying the map. According to the Colonel, the convoy would reach Yuzhny Portveyn in 24 hours. The shortest route that she could see was 12 hexes on the map. Roundabout 600 kilometers in 24 hours made for an average speed of 25 km/h, probably a bit faster in reality. Assuming a paved road, they could make 54 as a group. ”And if we’re delayed in arrival, do we pursue?”

The Conflict

The lingering sense of dread at their perceived impending execution had quickly faded. Now she was just confused. Confused by what was going on, why it was happening and how they were going to salvage this mess and get back on track. Fortunately, Edward started asking questions that could be safely answered, and whether he wanted answers or they were rhetorical, Yekaterina used the chance to regain some traction. “Our weapons aren’t directly related to our presence in your territory. However, it is true that we’ve been fed a series of apparent lies which, despite certain suspicions, we’ve had no way of verifying.” She tried to answer Edward’s questions. “You and your people took care of that, though you could’ve at least tried asking nicely first.” She knew there’d be a bloody big bruise on her right arm in the morning, and the others would no doubt have some souvenirs as well. “And what’s all this pish about ‘beast’ and ‘taint’? You sound like Gandalf’s better-dressed cousin.”

As if things weren’t difficult enough, all Hell broke loose outside, and by the looks of it, all over the city. Some of the images were dangerously similar to events that unfolded just three years ago: Open warfare in a shithole country, RPGs against soft targets and having no real clue what was happening beyond the immediate vicinity. All that was missing were tanks with ERA bricks filled with cardboard and some mass graves, and the latter was probably already there anyway. “Noise checks out.” She replied to Hayden asking about a war starting, “Best stay away from windows.”

Yekaterina wasted no time reclaiming her weapons. Pleased to see one of the kidnappers had the presence of mind to grab her sidearm after it got knocked out of her grip during the attack, she took care to move slowly as she checked over and holstered the weapons before pulling Bethan and Sean into a huddle once they had retrieved their gear, gesturing for Hayden to join. “By the sounds of what’s going on outside, getting out of the city would be some feat. Have to say you gents were right about Edik. If what we’re seeing here is true - and after the past thirty minutes I feel like it should be stressed that I’d second-guess if someone told me they breathe air - then taking up the offer to stay might not be that bad. If anything, if he’s not affiliated with either of the big companies like the situation implies, having a neutral ally can’t hurt.” She offered, pausing to ponder something before continuing. “Think we should bother asking about our goal here? If there’s no affiliation with either of the fighting sides, then what might he know about the Hyena and more importantly, does he want him or them around or not?”