The low gulley filled broken hills around the ruined cities are a hot, dry, dusty place nothing grows, noting moves, only windblown debris, shifting pils of gravel and sand, and the occasional ruined building dot the country side.

       As night falls the wind picks up blowing through the ruins creating a mournful wail that echoes for miles, bouncing of hills and rejoining o create a sound that would seem at home in the bowels of some medievil castle as the damned walk the halls seeking someone to avenge their deaths.

     Scout recon Team 395 had touched down on target and on schedule, the pilot announcing touch down a split second before a 30 Megawatt plasma lance burned her and most of the scoutships cockpit out o existence. Dozens of Q'sa grunts had swarmed the landing field overwhelming the colonial Marines as they tried to fall back to the scoutship. Sappers charged into their midst, suicidal and determined to take the ship with them the explosive laden Q'sa reduced the scout to a raging fireball killing anyone within a hundred meters of the scoutship.

    everyone died, standing their ground and making their Drill Instructors proud as they took a dozen Q'sa with them. everyone died except for one,the blast had sent her tumbling into the ruins, knocking her out and burying her under a pile of debris until sometime later she awoke sore, and alone, nothing else not even the Q'sa had survived the final stand Of the 359th

[Private to Elsbeth: This is your staring point, you know the main compound is a day or two away on foot, but you also know this is a combat zone... so what else is new :)]

Elsbeth awoke with a start.  After a few moments, the throbbing at her temples and the ringing in her ears were starting to shift into an uncomfortable pressure at the base of her skull and a dull, droning screech when she decided to open her eyes.

The HUD on her display visor flashed angrily various alarms and diagnostics and Elsbeth noted that the time was more than hour later than she last remembered.  She let out a slight sigh and began to mentally prioritize the alarms.  The routine was almost second nature.  Nothing was broken on her or her suit and there was no undue loss of power or integrity to the suit.  All of the attached weapons and equipment systems were nominal, their statuses either yellow or green on her layered displays.  Physically, everything seemed reasonably in order with herself.

It was then that she realized the screeching in her left ear was the dead commlink that should have been her lifeline to the rest of the team.  She pursed her lips and squelched the thought that she was alone for the moment.  But the raw pang in her gut told her the truth of the matter.  The wave of regret for the loss of the dead, for the people she had broken bread with and shared a drink with.  People that she had assaulted the eardrums of with her attempts at playing the basilet.  People she had hot dropped with, burned and killed with.  People that were alive only an hour ago, she noted mentally with a frown.

Elsbeth triggered her motion sensor and the HUD flashed alive with a new tactical display forming.  The surroundings were deathly still, at which point, Elsbeth decided that it was safe to move.  She tried moving her arms and legs slightly, gauging the shifting rubble and debris as she went.  As she stood, she noted where she was and saw the trajectory that her explosive mid-flight course correction had taken.  Elsbeth instinctively took a sharp intake of breath, not ten meters from where she had landed was the impaled and broken form of one of her teammates.  Damn, she thought, Ramirez.  She had liked his quick smile and his cavalier attitudes.  Something that Elsbeth had never been able to affect for herself; she had envied that in him.  "Via con Dios, my friend." she intoned quietly.

Elsbeth grimaced at the vagaries of Fate, as she cast her mind back to an hour ago.  She and Ramirez had been flagged for point - they were first out of the berth, even before touch down, when the Q'sa attack hit.  They bounded out trying to break past the enemy perimeter and were slated to wreak mobile havoc when the return call had sounded.  They moved with practiced coordination, they had done similar things at M'rshat's Atoll not two missions ago.  As they bounded back toward the ship, was when they were both caught in the deadly explosion.  The fact that they were in mid-flight probably are what saved her and killed him so gruesomely.  Elsbeth shook her head slowly as if that had the power to change reality.  Then when that did not work, she popped a section of Ramirez's hard suit casing and grabbed one of his sets of ident tags from his lifeless wrist.  She squirreled them away in her belt.

Elsbeth moved her way around the rocks and rubble to scanning for movement or life.  She kept the team line open, but did not speak.  A couple of minutes of observing and calculating left her moving into the open area under the moonlight, for a quick pass at the charred debris of the scout ship that had been her home most recently.  Elsbeth's jaw quivers as she surveys the dead under torchlight - sure, there is plenty of charred lizard meat, but the cost was high.  Perhaps too high.  She pulls individual ident tags where she can, but she knows that she doesn't have time to give the remains of the dead the respect they truly deserve.  And in most cases, there isn't anything left as far as she can tell - battlefield cremations.

Elsbeth stood at what were the rear bay doors for a pregnant moment.  The main blast radii had started there and the sand beneath the frozen, molten metal droplets was blasted a silky smooth, rippled glass.  Elsbeth stood on ground zero and looked at the reflection that her suits had cast.  Why am I all alone again? she wondered, it was the same when V'shak died as the moisture bubbled away from him in the cold depths of space - all of his vaunted intelligence did nothing for him in vacuum - with my left arm gone, I was bleeding out myself and all I could do for him was to hold his hand and watch him die.  And in the gallows at Kypros - how did I survive the games and escape, when no one else I knew did?  Or when I was with the CMC contingent at Piltdown Station on VXG-642 - I limped away from the meat-grinder, barely alive, but alive nonetheless.  My track record is ... troubling.  Survivor.  Jinx?  Elsbeth can't help, but curse the vagaries of her protector: Infi, Fate, Chance, Fortune - or the name that Elsbeth identifies with her the most, The Lady of Sorrows.

How is that I survive?  But everyone around me... she couldn't bring herself to complete the thought.  Elsbeth popped the visor open and her suit sensed the purposeful integrity breach and the air quality, and took the opportunity to open the recycling vents for the new air.  A single tear fell from Elsbeth's right eye - glinting in the moonlight before it splashed onto the cool glass.

And then the moment was gone.  And so were the tears and the regrets.  Elsbeth's lips were pressed into thin white lines.  The wind howled and the visor slammed shut - the armor was back on: closed off.

And so it goes, Elsbeth intoned mentally.  She pulled up her topological maps and overlaid them on the HUD to match her visuals.  The suit's integrated photon shield hummed to life and Elsbeth's form shimmered and flickered in the moonlight as she started picking her way through the debris and rubble with increasing speed.  She knew where her destination should be.  It shouldn't take me more than a day to get back to the main compound.  If I don't run into any untoward suitors. she thought quickly.  But deep down, she knew there was opposition between her and the main compound and suspected that part of her really wanted those unfortunate Q'sa in the way.

    As the first night of Elspeth’s walkabout fell, the sky above the desert was lit with a dancing fairy fire, pinks, reds, blues and oranges danced over the desert arcing and swirling from some point within the ruined cities. reports in the permission database indicated the aurora were common and had caused only minor communications interference in the past.  Over the com channels a soft, hissing whisper popped and crackled a constant half heard echoes of the mournful wind kicking up dust and spinning off dancing dust devils in the nighttime air. The song of electronic noise kicked up by the aurora merged into the eerie dead worlds near constant wailing to give the desert a surreal atmosphere and make every movement and shifting of shadows seem to be a ghost or damned soul lurking just out of sight.

Hours passed with only the deserts winds and the dancing fairy fires to keep Elspeth company, until out of the west a low throaty howl filled the air, streaking low over the desert two ships came, dangerous looking pseudo organic insect shaped fighters accompanied by a screech of overtaxed gravitics and the roar of plasma fuel turbines pushing the ominous craft well past the speed of sound adding the rumble and thunder of sonic booms to the night air.  Moments later the dull thud f detonations sounded from the direction of the scout, in the distance flashes of bomb detonations and the glow of secondary fires signaled the fighters had struck something, and inflicted heavy damage.

Elsbeth listened closely to the barely audible hum of the augmented pistons of her suit as she picked her way across the terrain.  She knew that with her armor's augmented exoskeleton, that she could move faster than an unaugmented sprinter for a significant period of time - moving at over 20 miles an hour, if needed.  And, of course, there were the jump jets, when subtlety was not required.  But this trek was about subtlety and even more about endurance; and Elsbeth had plenty of the latter.

Elsbeth also knew, that despite the fact that she had some protection from prying eyes in the visual part of the spectrum, at night that was less of a concern than her heat signature.  The desert wind helped to disperse some of that heat, but that was not necessarily a good thing - in some cases, it could leave a broader trail, but nothing could be done about it.  The suit's signature was as low as it could be without extensive modification.  And she prided herself on the quality of her equipment.  Tools alone may not get the job done, she thought quickly, but they definitely help.

She tried to keep a relatively low profile using the scrub cover as much as possible, but always staying at speed.  There were some stretches where cover was non-existent, but that had never stopped her before - and it didn't stop her now.  She moved with purpose and in the particularly exposed areas, she ran to minimize exposure - trusting the sand and wind to eventually cover her open tracks.

Elsbeth made good time - as beautiful as the sky and the dancing lights where, they were not her mission.  It is perhaps that single-mindedness that had served her so well in the past.  It was perhaps the key to her survival in the past, as well.  She knew that for all of her patronage to Lady Luck, Elsbeth also knew the old adage that 'Luck will often save a man, if his Courage holds.'  Whether consciously or subconsciously, Elsbeth had always intended to hold out until Ifni was given her due.

The presence of the Q'sa fighters only helped to highlight the stakes for Elsbeth.  She could do nothing to stop them from desecrating the dead - in fact, part of her worried that her presence alive is what prompted the reprisal.  But she could do nothing about that either.  As much as she might like to do something other than retreat and lick her wounds; as much as she wanted to draw their attention to her right now, that would only ensure that she join her comrades in the long sleep of Death.  Part of her wanted that; but deep down inside, Elsbeth wanted to ensure that she take more the enemy with her, as well.  To finish the job, to hold the line - that was what really mattered.  She took as much cover as the nearby scrub would afford - squatting down, remaining as still as possible, even though it likely did not matter.

The desert wind blew, and Elsbeth could almost hear her comrades voices on the wind.   The cross-chatter on the still open group comm line has picked.  The voices cried in pain and anguish, they cried for vengeance.  And when the sky lit up in the direction of her old ship, Elsbeth found herself rubbing Ramirez's ident tags between her fingers - as though they were a rosary and might placate the dead.  But, of course, it did not.  After the flash, as her eyes readjusted to the darkness through the filters of her visor, Elsbeth let out a sigh.  She did not even know that she was holding her breath.  She forced herself to exhale and then stood and continued on her way.  All the time the voices howled on the wind...

Elsbeth set off again.  Jogging across the waste into an unknown future.  The sands shifting both in front of her and under her feet.  The voices on the wind howling all around her, as well as in her head.

And then it came to her.  The voices were not those of the dead, but of the living.  With the Q'sa ramping up their attacks on this world; if they're being so bold ... other Colonial Authority troops needed to be warned. she thought, People would die needlessly, if I delay.  She had to make it back to the main compound - and she needed to make it back fast.  The presence of the fighters; so, blatant and arrogant in the sky and so near meant that they felt that they had air superiority.  That the Q'sa were without fear of retribution.  But the edges of Elsbeth's mouth curled upwards slightly, The Q'sa were not the only ones without fear. she thought eagerly.

Elsbeth glanced at the diagnostics on her display.  Power was nominal - more than enough to get her to her destination and still have plenty enough left to make a difference, if there was action on the other end.  Elsbeth start to run - at hustle pace, she knew that she should be able to make the main compound in significantly less than a day.  She started to make tracks, her path still followed the terrain as defined by least resistance, but bounding over objects as necessary shifted the definition of least resistance by an order of magnitude.  She pulled her customized laser carbine from the side harness and held it at the ready as the terrain flew by.  The familiar click of the safety being disengaged and the charging fields of energy in the solenoids wrapped around the beam collimator were a welcome pulse to Elsbeth.  The carbine's display came to life on her HUD.  Satisfied, Elsbeth moved with determined purpose, tearing across the desert sand, moving inexorably towards her destination ... all the while, hoping that she was not too late.
This message was last edited by the player at 23:27, Wed 20 May 2009.

  "No advanced life," sargeant Maxus had informed the squad in the breifing." It's a grave world, nothing but ruins, dust, bones and ghosts."

          The breifing was mostly accurate. a few small lizards, a mouse with six limbs and faceted eyes, a single highflying burd, these were the only living things Elspeth spotted as she put miles under her boots. The world was a grave. everywhere she looksed she saw signs of the former glory of the world. ruined towers now only ragged stubs of steel and stone slowly being worn away by the wind. the ribs of an ancient shipwreck, a once powerful warship from it's lines and the thick plating covering its hull. emerged fromt eh sand and debris. The briefing had described the planet as barren lifeless and for all intents dead, only shadows and ghosts of the world spanning civilization left burined int he same dust as more recent dead.

       The day passed into night and the dancing aurora lit the planet wide toomb in an eerie glow that alloweed the determined Marine to make good time as she trudged relentlessly across the desert, only the occasional distant whine of a gravitic drive to warn of a drone or patrol scouring the desert for life.

If Elsbeth had a more aesthetic bent to her personality, the pinks and crimson palette panorama that unfolded with the setting sun would have given her more of a pause in her long trek.  The ruins of long abandoned buildings and the twisted hulking remains of ships once worthy of crossing the great expanses of the Deep Black silhouetted against the colorful horizon were an absolutely breathtaking picture.

But for Elsbeth, the filters on her visor kept the more intense visible and harmful electromagnetic frequencies at bay.  The splash of the digital range finders and topographical overlays and alarms kept her eyes and mind occupied.  The sensor feeds and the necessities of cover, shadow, and survival were her purview.  Her training as a bodyguard and soldier kicked in - watch the enemy; learn and exploit their weaknesses; kill, if possible.  The latter was not really an option given the overwhelming odds... yet.  She was relegated to gathering intel and making sure that she survived long enough to be debriefed.

Tech stuff and strategy were not her forte, but she dutifully tried to memorize all of the things that she could that she had observed the enemy doing: patterns, movement, timings.  The frequency of enemy patrols, their coverage and their manpower were foremost in her thoughts.  She timed her movements to try and compensate for the shortcomings of her enemies.  That the sun lay low on the horizon was not a photo opportunity, only a potential distraction for her or her enemies.  Don't let it be the former, she thought by rote, make it the latter.  Of course, that meant that she could not completely avoid the enemy either.  Duty required that she gather information - so, she watched and waited.  Lingering in some covered spots to watch the Q'sa patrols - to learn their ways.  Her teachers in the academy were adamant: 'To truly kill the enemy, you must know them - you must almost love them.  Almost.'  Elsbeth could respect the Q'sa and their fearless loyalty coupled with their brutal efficiency.  She was getting to the point where she thought that she could identify with them, love them ... almost.  Elsbeth was at home in that place, the place that allowed her the longing to watch them brutally and efficiently expire at the tip of her vibro-knife.

'No advanced life' Maxus' words echoed in Elsbeth's head as she watched yet another Q'sa patrol make their way on foot, not more than twenty metres from her covered position.  Once out of sight, she started to once again make her way across the broken and desolate terrain.  Elsbeth corrected herself, No indigenous advanced life.  The way was slow, even at hustle pace, broken up as it was.  The Q'sa patrols, airborne and on foot, were an ever present danger; Elsbeth spent half her time seeking cover and the other half bolting from it.  Elsbeth longed to make a stand, but her instincts told her that now was not the time.  Still, that didn't make it any easier to turn her back on the cries of her dead squadmates.  And so, Elsbeth trekked inexorably on towards the encampment - her temporary base camp, her temporary 'home'.

One could call Elsbeth's thoughts and actions professional or focussed or supremely loyal, but mostly they were the thoughts of the person that had been bred only knowing a singular role in life:  a cloistered, sheltered, myopic view of the world.  A room with no view, with no concept of the rooms beyond the one she was in.  They were the thoughts and actions of a child that had never known anything different.

Ultimately, Elsbeth had never really been alone in adolescence.  There was always her clutchmates and the near-prescient knowledge that comes from sharing the exact same genes and upbringing.  An upbringing of strict instructors and their rigid, structured, disciplined lessons.  Later, there was always her charge; the one individual she guarded with her life.  There was never to be a time when she would be alone.  At least, that was the theory.  The irony was not lost upon Elsbeth as she moved through the ruined terrain: Alone.  The physical only reflects the metaphysical, Elsbeth reflected darkly, a thought spawned with more than a tinge of remorse.  In the solitude, the Abyss always unfolded before her - the frightening, enveloping emptiness.  It had happened as she drifted dying in vacuum above Enchoa Rhi and again in the fevered haze on VXG-642.  The void of her Loneliness craved to be filled.  But when your life is programmed, what thoughts and memories do you really call your own?  What part of a frank's life can truly be called their own?

  Elspeth found her way to the edge of a long strech of boulders and scrub trees that stretched for miles. Along it's fringe he spoted patrols of Q'sa, he had reached their perimeter, their main defensive line. forwarfd or back She would have to move carefully and quickly moving n the flat would be suicide during the day. Too many eyes watched the flat, and too many gun sites were ready to send lethal fire onto anyone caught in the open during the day.

When Elsbeth came to the defense line, she slowed and took cover as she assessed the situation.  She watched the comings and goings of the patrols, trying to note their strengths, armaments and frequencies.  Unfortunately, her powered armor was not an intelligence or surveillance scouting model.  While, it had telemetry, biometric monitoring, and topographical data - it was not made for recording massive amounts of data.  Still, Elsbeth worked to overcome such minor issue.  She was not stupid, even if tactics and strategic intelligence were not her forte.

Elsbeth made note of the time remaining the night cycle and made the fateful decision to enter the field at night and to try and hunker down under cover during the day.  Bypassing the area was not an option - it was far to wide being specifically designed as a choke point.  And given the area and the firepower amassed on station, being out in the open during the day was obviously not an option.  Even the masking effect of her armor's photon shield was not going to be enough with all of those searching eyes.  But, Elsbeth figured that the added cloud of night should give her enough cover.

So, Elsbeth started to pick her way through the killing zone.  Her suit was not the stealthiest available, but her familiarity with it and its default construction were nothing to sneeze at either.  In the dark shroud of night, coupled with the wind and broken landscape - a single soldier alone might just make it.  At least that is what Elsbeth hoped.  She trusted in herself, her equipment, and in the Lady of Sorrows: Infi.  I've paid your dues, and all pay them again, M'lady, Elsbeth thought to herself, as she crept her way through the treacherous boulder laden field.

When the dawn threatened to make its appearance, Elsbeth found cover off of (but not too far off of) the seemingly beaten path of the foot patrols.  She hunkered down into a small copse of boulders and tree with her armored form wedged into what passed for a small, rocky alcove.  Then she initiated the low power mode, the one that left most passive sensors on, but slowed the air cycling and pushed the main power into standby.  She counted on not being discovered more than being able to act with absolute speed.  And she trusted that her equipment would warn her of anything amiss - to give her time to react.  She figured that she would get a chance to rest a bit and count patrols and do intelligence and recon gathering the rest of the time.  And with that plan in mind, though Elsbeth didn't eat anything, she allowed herself to doze...

   The day dawned cold and grey dust blowing on the breeze covered the terrain in an ashen film the raising wined began to pick up more dust turning the sky a dirty gay and brown. The air low to the ground was still hazy but visibility was still good.
       The hum of gravitics warned of an approaching craft, a sleek streamlined dark gray craft sweeping in low over the ground. A streamlined turret seeping the ground the craft was not Q;sa it was too elegant. The tinted view plates and custom hull was a high end civilian shuttle  more often seen at luxury starports than cruising a backwater planet infested with hostile forces,
A few seconds later a pair of Q’sa fighters cruised overhead pacing the shuttle five or six kilometers back to either side of the craft. Not a pursuit position but an arrangement of escort craft. Seconds later a heavy modular Hauler passed over head, it’s cargo racks empty only a few fuel pods lined up along its load bearing frame. The craft was a standard build freighter built by a dozen Terran manufacturers and used by the military to transport munitions and supplies to frontline units. The lack of insignia and registry numbers on it’s hull seemed out of place no ship could have docked at a commercial starport without them.

Elsbeth watched the convoy of ships go by from her makeshift hiding place.  She didn't like the implication of the mix of vehicle makes at all.  Q'sa don't fly other races ships.  Terran and Q'sa together, she thought, it can only mean one thing: collaborators.  Someone betraying their own kind and getting rich off of the deaths of their fellow Terrans.  Elsbeth didn't like it one bit.

Not that she could do much about it now.  But the information she was now gathering, seemed to imply that it was even more important to get back to the other Colonial forces and report to them.  It was incumbent upon her to make sure she had good accurate information.  With the lack of markings, identification of the ships would be difficult.  As it was meant to be, of course. she noted to herself.  But it did not make it impossible, so Elsbeth passed the time by trying to recall of the details that she could about the two terran ships.  With any luck and little bit of library time, Elsbeth would be able to positively identify the make and model of the Terran ships she saw.  And that might be enough - she hoped it would be.

Besides for the time being, Elsbeth had very little else to do.  She was trying to avoid detection by minimizing her presence; conserving energy, food and all the while trying to preserve her sanity.  She didn't much like being solo; it's not that she didn't have a purpose or could not do the job alone.  But the present circumstances could not be changed.  Alone still, with the whispering voices and the Emptiness.  It would be so easy to give in wouldn't it?  But no, something deep down inside of her refused to give up.  At her core, Elsbeth refused the Darkness and craved the Light.  She sought to give herself a Purpose and a Life.  And part of living is learning through patience and pain, she consoled herself with the thought, The longings must mean that I am still alive. ...  So, she continued to watch and to wait.

  As the sun rises to it's zenith the dust and ash in the sky ive way to a reddish ashen sky. Q'sa drones swam over he area probing hiding places and searching relentlessly to the south as Elspeth endures the heat of the day.

     Towards unset the heavy cargo ship returns this time it's cargo pods are loaded and the ship lumbers under a heavy weight. Across the rear of it’s hull registration numbers have been added and the ship Is painted with the colors and insignia of a commercial transport, belonging to a fleet maintenance contractor common to the area.

Elsbeth almost regrets venting the suit and leaving it in standby mode - especially in the heat of the midday sun - but, she doesn't really have a choice.  She knows that she needs to conserve power and so, by necessity the suit is down for as long she can manage it.  Well, that and an inactive suit is less likely to register on sensors.  Still, Elsbeth keeps a low profile, staying out of sight and moving as little as possible.  With the suit down, she really doesn't want to be caught - she might be able to handle a very small patrol on her own, but even that would a real challenge.

Elsbeth was preparing to leave again, getting ready to back into her armor, when engines of the heavy cargo hauler alerted her to its return.  Elsbeth watched with interest as the cargo hauler sans escort, but plus new markings made its way back onto the horizon.  She tried her best to memorize the new markings and the shipping company that it ostensibly belonged to, Just more pieces of the puzzle, she noted to herself as she lay in her hiding place - feeling the hairs on her arm stand up as the suspensor field from the ship blew by.  She held a hand up to protect her nose and mouth from the dust that was kicked up and glanced back into the spot to where her armor was housed.

For Elsbeth, it's time to get back on the road - once the sun sets.  Time, hopefully, to get back to warn the other Colonial Troops. she hopes.  She really hopes that all of this is not in vain.  But, Elsbeth knows that such thoughts are not useful right now.  So, she pushes them aside as she slips back into her metal second skin and starts up the powering sequence.  The gentle humm of the power plant and the familiar smell and sounds of the armor are comforting to her.  She lingers for a moment, just taking in its presence - then the visor slips into place and shuts tight as the rest of the seals reintegrate and she is ready to move.

  Moving cautiously through the boulder field Elspeth makes her way by feet and inches across the open ground, maneuvering undercover, freezing as a patrol drone nears. The Q’sa are numerous, viscous, and cunning but they lack the cohesion and training of a proper military unit
By midnight she is nearly across the field. The lights of a Q’sa patrol dancing among the boulders alerts her to their presence. Half a dozen grunts scanning about with flashlights doing more to reveal their position than to reveal their target. From her vantage point Elspeth can her the grunting clicking chattering voices of the Q’sa cursing and quarreling as they endure the cold dry night air of the desolate world. Their assault riles slung, their helmets sealed against the chill their sense are dulled and their ability to respond limited. Even in the middle of the boulder field it might be possible to quickly remove the patrol blocking Elspeth’s path.

Drill Instructor Barstans Vilyas had told the class on the first day, "The job of Recon is to go behind enemy lines, return and tell Command how many there are.  The job of Force Recon is to go behind enemy lines, return and tell Command how many there were."  After a few stifled chuckles from his audience, Vilyas brought down the pain.  "Look to your right and to your left, people.  If either of those greenies make through this class, then you are the washout.  Those are the facts."

Ironically, Elsbeth and the two people to the sides of her all made it into Force Recon.  Sadly, she noted as part of the reverse irony, both Ramirez and Boogstens were dead.  Ramirez made it all the way here - to this hellhole.  Boogie had bought it back on VXG-642. she reflected sadly.

With Sergeant Vilyas' words in mind, Elsbeth surveyed the situation.  Six on one should be nothing.  Elsbeth was confident that she had the training and the equipment to take this patrol.  The main question was would it be worth it?  She needed to make it quiet and quick, if she was to be about it.  Too much ruckus and aerial support would come, and that would not be acceptable.  So, Elsbeth wracked her brain as to the right way to do things.  With fifty metres between her and her quarry, she would have to cover that distance as fast as possible.  She was pretty sure she could do it in a matter of seconds - and Elsbeth was pretty sure that she had the drop on the patrol.  Their demeanor indicated that they were either, very good actors or completely unaware of her presence.  Good, she thought, the job of Recon is to go behind enemy lines...

Elsbeth made a snap decision, to move and move quickly.  Doing some collateral damage here would send a message to them and give her some piece of mind.  She resolved to use her training to the utmost and to honor the memory of her slain comrades.  She made a small prayer to Infi as she activated the barrier shield and photon shield generators on her armor.  She gauged the distances to the enemy, watching the light enhanced overlays of her HUD highlight the distances and velocities of the enemy.  Elsbeth counted out the moves - orchestrating the dance.  The reticules targeting the number in the patrol glowed angry yellow.  Elsbeth focussed her attention on the head of the patrol.  His information glowed red, with flick of the eyes and subvocalized command.  Tag, you're it...

Elsbeth held her carbine in her off hand, and pulled her collapsible concussion rod from her belt.  She extended it and felt its light spongy grip in her gauntleted right hand.  She exploded from her crouch using her armor's servos to drive forward towards the lead Q'sa, moving swiftly through the rough, rocky terrain.  While she knew that the photon shield would not give her optimal protection since she was actively attacking and not hiding, it still offered enough of a disconcerting effect, that in the dark she knew that it would help.  Like all my equipment, I trust it to do its job - all I need to do is my job.

Pound, pound, pound. 46 meters, then 43 metres.  Her piston enhanced boots drove onwards as the distance between herself and the patrol closed at a frightening pace.  Elsbeth drew inexorably closer to the lead Q'sa - the dancing flashlights blithely unaware of the oncoming train.    She bounded over a four metre boulder and then tumbled through a bit of (now) defunct scrub.  Her photometrically fuzzed form churned chunks of dust and dirt as she past.  Elsbeth knew that the patrol would likely have some time to potentially react to her presence, but she relied on the fact that they would not have much and that they couldn't accurately track, what they couldn't accurately see.  Let them try, just let them try...

Pound, pound, pound.  22 metres, 19 metres, The massive servos in her armor enhanced and refined her movements as she drove onwards.  She popped over and around boulders and as she accelerated, Elsbeth let the adrenaline surge come.  She had been trained to harness the energy and focus it into explosive power.  Her vision narrowed as her quarry neared, and she moved with grace and speed onwards across the small debris-filled, rocky field.  She planned to meet the lead Q'sa head on and push him back into as many of his comrades as possible.  With the six of them, it was essential to keep as many as possible occupied or down as quickly and as long as possible.  By coming into the middle of them, she would be opening herself up to multiple assailants, but should be able to minimize their effectiveness by engaging them fully - their guns would be useless once she was in the middle of them.  From what she had seen, the Q'sa never acted as a unit.  They may coordinate some actions, but they expected their base ferocity to overwhelm an enemy.  They expected fear to keep her in line.  They were wrong - fear never kept Elsbeth in line.  Fear only makes me focus; Fear only makes me mad.

Pound, pound, pound - 6 metres, 2 metres ... At the last possible moment, Elsbeth braced herself for impact, dipping her shoulder ever so slightly and activating her jumpjets to drive her form into the upcoming opponent.  Her 250 kilogram plus amalgam of woman and machine flew headlong into the upper chest plate of the unfortunate reptilian insectoid in front of the pack.  The job of Force Recon, is to tell them how many there were...
[Private to Prometheus: OOC:
Actions:
Surprise Action     :  Move Action - Full Move (50ft)
First Round Actions :  Free Action - Ability Surge (+8 Str, -2 Def, Duration: 3 rounds)
                       Free Action - Spend Action point to negate fatigue from Ability Surge (Does this only get expended when the surge ends?)
                       Full-Round action - Bull Rush lead Q'sa w/ Double move (100ft)
Rolls:
Know (tactics) Check:  09:54, Today: Elsbeth rolled 9 using 1d20+2. Knowledge (tactics)/Int Check.
Initiative          :  09:54, Today: Elsbeth rolled 10 using 1d20+2. Initiative.
Attack (Bull Rush)  :  09:58, Today: Elsbeth rolled 26 using 1d20+14. Atk (Bull Rush): +4 BAB, +8 Str, +2 Chrg.
Strength Check      :  09:58, Today: Elsbeth rolled 13 using 1d20+8. Strength Check.

Ugh, not what I had hoped for.  Not very, bad ass, eh?  That is my general luck with the RPoL dice roller though... *sigh*  Are there any other rolls that you need?  Feel free to roll for me, especially,  if it will save time and effort on your part.  You definitely cannot roll any worse than I have. :(

Questions/Notes:
1)  Can I expend an Action Point to enhance the Strength Check?  I'd really like that first meeting with the enemy to have some impact...;)
2)  Would the jumpjets aid any in the impact/strength check, potentially?  Should I make a skill check to use them?
3)  If the Bull Rush will not knock the opponent down (or into the others) i.e. that is not what a bull rush does, and I have misinterpreted the rules - your call, then Elsbeth would have opted to do a simple charge and I can roll damage for the concussion rod - instead.  Let me know.

Combat Stats:
VITALITY (max/curr) :  65/65 (105/105 w/barrier shield)
HP (max/curr)       :  29
INIT                :  +2
DEF (hardsuit)      :  +22 ACP: -3  DR: 4 (w/ barrier shield)
                       +18 (w/ current actions: -2 (charge), -2 (ability surge)
BAB (Melee/Range)   :  +6/+6 (+9 w/Laser Carbine)
SAVES (F/R/W)       :  +8/+6/+4
ACTION POINTS       :  9 (7? after actions)
BASE SPEED          :  50ft (30 (base) + 10 (armor) + 10 (class))
NOTES: Fearless, Uncanny Dodge I, Evasion, Energy Resis (sonic/conc): 4/-
       Photon Shield (50% concealment, DC 20 to spot while moving)
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
WEAPON             DMG   Crit  Range  Weight  Size  Type     Notes
Concussion Rod     2d8     20    -     2lbs   med   Bludg    MW (+1 atk)
Laser Carbine**    3d8     20   90ft*  6lbs   lrg   Laser    Mag: Eclip 50
   * Rangefinder Scope Gadget       ** Accuracy: +3 (+2 (inherent) +1 (MW))]
This message was last edited by the player at 00:15, Tue 09 Mar 2010.

Elspeth hit with the force of a speeding car, the Q’sa was hurled backwards his armor protecting him from the shoulder check but doing little to protect his skull from the rock he struck as he fell. The ret of the squad turned in stunned disbelief the dark shape of an armored soldier in their midst sending two into flight. Two other went to the ground knocked off their feet by the charge.

“ Q’sa are vicious, mean, and hit you with numbers. They don’t scare easy and they don’t ever quit once they tart an assault. But they ain’t got he brains to scratch their ass without someone telling them how to.” Gunny had laughed.“ Hit ‘em hard, take down their commander, then get in with ‘em. Don’t let the little bastard catch their breath.

The one remaining Q’sa on his feet swung the butt of hi rifle hard enough to crush a man’s skull. Against the carbon fiber and born carbide of an armored suit he might a well be winging a feather duster. Hi blow landed square. But did little more than end a ripple of color through the adaptive camouflage one armor skin.

Elsbeth noted with certain and grim satisfaction that her armor integrity held and that the lone standing Q'sa and its weapon were ineffective against her.  Her HUD tracked the rest of the downed squad.  The lead Q'sa was down, his tracking reticule had gone a dull green, his threat level substantially lower than it was moments before.  The four other Q'sa down were not out; so, they blinked yellow.  The two that had only been knocked down were tinged yellow.  Time enough to deal with them, she thought, but first, the last man standing.

Elsbeth knew that she had to finish the job, it would not do to leave her presence reported by these troops.  She had to finish what she had started.  Elsbeth turned on her right heel and stepped up to engage her only standing opponent.  Her laser carbine moved to cover the two prone figures who had only been knocked down - Elsbeth trained it upon them, but held her fire; she concentrating her efforts on the standing Q'sa.  As she lunged, Elsbeth swung the concussion rod in her right hand.  It almost moved of its own volition, as her arm lashed around in a vicious roundhouse.  The end of rod blurring with terrible speed.  Elsbeth almost felt a twinge of regret for her enemy, almost ...
[Private to Prometheus: OOC:
Actions:
Free Action         :  Ability Surge (+8 Str, -2 Def, Duration: 3 rounds)
Standard Action     :  Attack Standing Q'sa

Rolls:
Attack (Conc. Rod)  :  18:00, Today: Elsbeth rolled 21 using 2d8+8. Damage: if necessary, +8 Str.
Damage (Conc. Rod)  :  17:59, Today: Elsbeth rolled 18 using 1d20+13. Atk (Conc. Rod): +4 BAB, +8 Str, +1 MW.

Combat Stats:
VITALITY (max/curr) :  65/65 (105/105 w/barrier shield)
HP (max/curr)       :  29
INIT                :  +2 (10, previously rolled)
DEF (hardsuit)      :  +22 ACP: -3  DR: 4 (w/ barrier shield)
                       +20 (w/ -2 (ability surge)
BAB (Melee/Range)   :  +6 (+7 w/Concussion Rod)/+6 (+9 w/Laser Carbine)
SAVES (F/R/W)       :  +8/+6/+4
ACTION POINTS       :  7
BASE SPEED          :  50ft (30 (base) + 10 (armor) + 10 (class))
NOTES: Fearless, Uncanny Dodge I, Evasion, Energy Resis (sonic/conc): 4/-
       Photon Shield (50% concealment, DC 20 to spot while moving)
       Ability Surge (+8 Str, -2 Def - Duration: two more rounds)
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
WEAPON             DMG   Crit  Range  Weight  Size  Type     Notes
Concussion Rod     2d8     20    -     2lbs   med   Bludg    MW (+1 atk)
Laser Carbine**    3d8     20   90ft*  6lbs   lrg   Laser    Mag: Eclip 50
   * Rangefinder Scope Gadget       ** Accuracy: +3 (+2 (inherent) +1 (MW))]

The compression coil within the rod growled as it warmed a pinpoint of space into a knot. The distortion acted as a point of intense artificial gravity drawing the rods head toward it. Increasing it’s power and impact to many times that of an object of it’s mass and weight should have. The first blow lifted it off it’s feet and the backhanded swipe sent it backwards. The Q’sa tumbled backwards as if thrown by a giant. Slamming into a bolder and falling to his knees before folding to the ground unconscious. Few species could resist the trauma of such an impact even though he was relatively uninjured the Q’sa’s body simply shut down while it tried to recover from the blow.

OOC: target down, massive damage save failed. Unconscious.

Note By house rules if you have two weapons and can use them both in one hand…such as a carbine. You may utilize a two weapon attack, or if you have multiple attacks make a single attack with each hand. With relevant mods of course. even if they are a mix of ranged and melee weapons.

“I love a good beat down in the morning.”
Gunny Bryce. Third Expeditionary Regiment Colonial Marines.

The Praetorian Franks of Enchoa Rhi were not known for their social graces or their intelligence.  And with respect to the social graces, Elsbeth was par for the course.  Much of that had to do with environment as much as genetics.  But when it came to intelligence, Elsbeth had surprised her makers, her trainers, her charges, and her enemies.  Elsbeth actually had some wits about her.  True, she was not a super brain, like the precocious Sufi-brained man-child she had been originally assigned to.  But V'shek was pleasantly surprised that she could learn relatively quickly and he took it as a personal challenge to teach her.  Given the balkanized and violent nature of Enchoa Rhi, much of that training focused on military history and tactics.  But Elsbeth also learned about fine muscle control and physics, methods for calculating and estimating distances and geometries...

Elsbeth could feel the pull of the singularity in the compression rod, the warping of space when she had first been introduced to weapon had been disconcerting to her.  But now, it seemed second nature, she could tell just how far the rod extended and its speed more by feel than sight.  And that is why she knew it had struck true as she followed through with her blow on her sole standing enemy.  Elsbeth noted the bone-jarring crunch with more of an attitude of professional detachment than satisfaction.  She didn't necessarily love her work, but she did understand it on very personal and instinctual level.  The peripheral 360^o tactical view display on her HUD showed that threat level of her latest victim was a faded, dull yellow.

Her charge and follow through had carried her past the slumping form of the insectoid-reptile and she continued to move, letting her momentum carry her off of a low boulder and back towards her last two opponents, those Q'sa that had been knocked down, but not knocked out.  From past experience, Elsbeth knew that her adrenaline surged strength could only be counted on for another few seconds, before it started to fade.  So, she acted as quickly and efficiently as she could.  The servo-enhanced assist to her legs allowed her jump to close the gap to the two prone Q'sa almost instantly.

And then she was back upon them.  Her tumble and jump had placed her between the two Q'sa, just as she had expected.  She landed with a heavy 'Thud'.  Her left armor-clad foot had found a resting place one of the downed Q'sa, Elsbeth brought the carbine in her left hand so that it was pointed right at the chest of that prone Q'sa.  Meanwhile, she brought the concussion rod in her right hand around in another blurred arc towards form of the other Q'sa struggling to his feet.  The carbine flashed as it launched a coherent beam of light, while the concussion rod sang a low hum whose pitch changed as it approached the intended target with ever-increasing speed...
[Private to Prometheus: OOC:  I can try to give the attack in each hand a try, but I figured there would be substantial penalties...  I believe the book states, -10 for the off-hand and -6 for the 'on'-hand - those are in the rolls.
Actions:
Free Action         :  Ability Surge - con't (+8 Str, -2 Def, Duration: 1 more rounds)
Move Action         :  Tumble and launch off of boulder to close distance to last two opponents
Standard Action     :  Attack last two prone, but conscious Q'sa

Rolls:
Tumble Check        :  23:46, Today: Elsbeth rolled 20 using 1d20+7. Tumble Check - if necessary.
Jump Check          :  23:48, Today: Elsbeth rolled 33 using 1d20+13. Jump Check - if necessary.
Attack (Conc. Rod)  :  23:42, Today: Elsbeth rolled 21 using 1d20+7. Atk (Rod): +4BAB,+8Str,+1MW, -6OnHand.
Damage (Conc. Rod)  :  23:45, Today: Elsbeth rolled 22 using 2d8+8. Damage (Rod).
Attack (Carbine)    :  23:44, Today: Elsbeth rolled 3 using 1d20-1. Atk (Conc. Rod):+6BAB,+3Scp,-10OffHand. - Sorry it was mislabeled on the roller.. this should be the carbine attack roll (Ugh)
Damage (Carbine)    :  23:46, Today: Elsbeth rolled 16 using 3d8. Damage (Carbine). - if necessary

Combat Stats:
VITALITY (max/curr) :  65/65 (105/105 w/barrier shield)
HP (max/curr)       :  29
INIT                :  +2 (10, previously rolled)
DEF (hardsuit)      :  +22 ACP: -3  DR: 4 (w/ barrier shield)
                       +20 (w/ -2 (ability surge)
BAB (Melee/Range)   :  +6 (+7 w/Concussion Rod)/+6 (+9 w/Laser Carbine)
SAVES (F/R/W)       :  +8/+6/+4
ACTION POINTS       :  7
BASE SPEED          :  50ft (30 (base) + 10 (armor) + 10 (class))
NOTES: Fearless, Uncanny Dodge I, Evasion, Energy Resis (sonic/conc): 4/-
       Photon Shield (50% concealment, DC 20 to spot while moving)
       Ability Surge (+8 Str, -2 Def - Duration: last round)
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
WEAPON             DMG   Crit  Range  Weight  Size  Type     Notes
Concussion Rod     2d8     20    -     2lbs   med   Bludg    MW (+1 atk)
Laser Carbine**    3d8     20   90ft*  6lbs   lrg   Laser    Mag: Eclip 50
   * Rangefinder Scope Gadget       ** Accuracy: +3 (+2 (inherent) +1 (MW))]

  The Q'sa under Elspeth's foot stops squirming as the concussion rod impacts, the growl of the rod barely heard over the wind and sound of braking bone. The Q'sa grunt on the ground see's the rifle come up into line with his face. it''s fixed insect eyes reflecting the pathfinder lasers dim glow. Alien facial features are always hard to read but the sudden opening of it's mouth and pressing of it's back to the ground as it struggles to evade the point blank shot are easy enough to read, simple and direct, fear.

    The carbine cycles. it's storage cells pumping energy into the capacitors for a short high output pulse of coherent light. as it fires the alien makes a desperate dive to the side. the pulse of light only a hundredth of a second long. not the long scorching pulse of a beam laser but enough to flash vaporize rock and dust the sudden heating shattering anything it hit. and turning water into super hot steam. the net affect was a sudden explosive blast of heat and vapor. leaving a shallow divot in the stone instead of a long deep gash. or a bloody spray of flash cook flesh and bone that would have resulted if the alien had not moved. red hot rock shards and spatters of molten rock spray out from teh impact sticking to Elspeth's boots and singing the Q'sa's face.
    His hand comes up from his hip. the muzzle of the pistol he carries almost as big as Elspeth's thumb. a short ranged brutal weapon meant to deal with targets that needed more power than range or accuracy. the weapons was inaccurate, clumsy and worst for Elspeth loud.

Elsbeth let something escape from between her lips, it was a sound somewhere between a short sharp expletive and a growl.  A mark of frustration in her inability to do things quietly and effectively.  But there is nothing else to be done about it at this point - nothing but to finish the job now.  The last Q'sa had the wherewithal to actually try and get a shot off.  Damn it, was all that Elsbeth could subvocalize.

Still, there was very little time for recriminations.  In fact, there was even less now that the others, such as local aerial patrols or other nearby foot patrols might now be alerted to her presence.  She needed to dispatch the last enemy fast.  And try not to be so sloppy this time, she chided herself, the longer you dally and dance, the more chance to be discovered.  Her instructors had always been adamant:  It doesn't matter how pretty the kill.  Be done with it, and be done with it fast.  You are Force Recon.  Your effectiveness is not in being flashy,; it is in making the enemy fear the unknown - it is in making the enemy know that no matter where they are they are never safe.

Elsbeth flicked her right wrist to and fro to free the concussion rod from its resting place in the body under foot.  Her eyes never left the lone enemy that now had a gun trained on her.  Once the rod was free, Elsbeth immediately stepped forward to closed the distance to the Q'sa.  It was a simple stutter step, but she added a feint to the left as she dipped her left shoulder, trying to mask the attack angle as she whipped the concussion rod in her right hand around again.  Elsbeth targeted the creature's neck and shoulder, striking out with a speed born primarily of desperation.  The light rays bent and played on her armor as the photon shield continued to flicker, obscuring the outline of her presence.  She trusted in her barrier shield to take the brunt of the Q'sa attack as necessary, but she needed to try and make sure that it didn't get a shot off if possible.  She was not sure if that would be possible, but she had to try.
[Private to Prometheus: OOC:
Actions:
Free Action         :  Growl/Expletive
Move Action         :  'Draw' concussion rod from previous... er... victim, close distance to next victim
Standard Action     :  Attack last Q'sa with concussion rod

Rolls:
Attack (Conc. Rod)  :  00:31, Today: Elsbeth rolled 16 using 1d20+9. Atk (Rod): +4BAB,+4Str,+1MW.
Damage (Conc. Rod)  :  00:31, Today: Elsbeth rolled 12 using 2d8+4. Damage (Rod).

Combat Stats:
VITALITY (max/curr) :  65/65 (105/105 w/barrier shield)
HP (max/curr)       :  29
INIT                :  +2 (10, previously rolled)
DEF (hardsuit)      :  +22 ACP: -3  DR: 4 (w/ barrier shield)
BAB (Melee/Range)   :  +8 (+9 w/Concussion Rod)/+6 (+9 w/Laser Carbine)
SAVES (F/R/W)       :  +8/+6/+4
ACTION POINTS       :  7
BASE SPEED          :  50ft (30 (base) + 10 (armor) + 10 (class))
NOTES: Fearless, Uncanny Dodge I, Evasion, Energy Resis (sonic/conc): 4/-
       Photon Shield (50% concealment, DC 20 to spot while moving)
       Ability Surge (+8 Str, -2 Def - Duration: done)
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
WEAPON             DMG   Crit  Range  Weight  Size  Type     Notes
Concussion Rod     2d8     20    -     2lbs   med   Bludg    MW (+1 atk)
Laser Carbine**    3d8     20   90ft*  6lbs   lrg   Laser    Mag: Eclip 49
   * Rangefinder Scope Gadget       ** Accuracy: +3 (+2 (inherent) +1 (MW))]

      " Luck is a fickle twitch. one day she loves you . Next day she hand you a live grenade." Gunny grumbled as he picked up the bloody helmet of a trainee who had a grenade misfire in his hands." This sorry sod was on her short list.

    The Q'sa's helmet rolled away ad his head impacted the boulder behind him again. the kick back of the concussion rod doing enough damage to finish the job Elspeth started when she slammed it into his chest. The boulder field is now a very quiet place the low moan of the dying Q'sa barely audible over the wind and the distant hum of a drone passing far to the south.

John came to in his cockpit, the mental pinging of Tiny's distinctive voice bouncing around in his head. Are you awake? are you awake yet? Now? Now? Now? Now?

Shut up. John sent back at the machine. As the echoes of Tiny's speech receded from his mind, he felt her distinct sense of relief that he was actually alright.

Quite frankly, he was rather surprised that he had actually lived through that. He had been in the cargo bay touching up some of Tiny's systems when the cockpit exploded. He didn't know what had overcome him, but he'd entered Tiny, loaded into the nearest drop pod, and ejected. Typically, the overrides would have prevented this, but whether it was the sudden loss of the computer core, Tiny's own administrations, or sheer dumb luck, the pod had worked. He was ejected from the ship.

At Mach 2.

Sideways.

The first collision with a dune had shattered the pod (it was, after all, designed for orbital insertion, not as an artillery shell). The second had knocked John out. Making certain that Tiny's most critical systems were still online, and her weapons were undamaged and still with him, he extricated himself from the dune and got a bearing on his situation.

"John, we're upside down. can you fix that? It's making my fuel run to my head. Tiny sounded a bit upset.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:08, Sat 03 Apr 2010.

Yeah, one second... John opened the external viewpoint, and was immediately bombarded by sand. Closing it before he suffocated, he brought up the combat cameras and pulled himself out of the dune.

Tiny, he added, a little bit worried, you're fusion powered. What fuel?
This message was last edited by the player at 01:07, Sat 03 Apr 2010.

" Water John." Tiny replied several gallons of heavy water for the reaction mass.

    As far as I can see we are in a desert, I can not detect any signals on the com bands or emergency locator beacons for the crew, or marines on the ship.

  miles of broken hills and  wind swept rock surround the shallow crater left by the impact of the drop pod. smoke rises in the distance, a wide boulder field blocking one direction of travel. Among the boulders and over it small drones patrol the sky and dart among the rocks. most are recon drones though some appear to be heavily armed combat drones. all have an odd techno-organic look to them like wasps or some sort of stinging insect.

John crouched instinctively from the drones. Someone was searching the area, and it wouldn't do to be seen by them. Slowly, he pulled his weapon and re-tuned Tiny's skin, turning it from the standard-issue Olive-Green to a shifting, muted sand to match the surrounding desert.

What the hell are these things, and where are we supposed to go now?

[Private to GM: You rolled 16 using 1d20+7 ((9))].

  Form their size and energy output, I would say short ranged security drones.

      I can't suggest a course John, I am having difficulty processing all of the information. I believe the impact may had caused some damage to my processors. but we can't stay here, You need to resupply, you can starve and I wouldn't like that. I would be alone
[Private to Ssgt. John Garrow: OOC her tone sounds odd, she seems to be reverting to her base programming before she developed her own personality mechanical and analytical. and somehow detached although all her physical systems seem to be working well she is not herself.]
This message was last edited by the GM at 04:08, Sat 03 Apr 2010.

They'd covered this in basic, right when they'd first paired marine and mech. When your AI goes numb, the best thing to do is assess the situation, let her work it out, and prevent her from destabilizing. He hadn't felt debilitated, so a systems crash was unlikely.

He quickly began locking off critical systems from Tiny's control. Tiny, he communicated through their cybernetic link, give yourself a moment; we're going to head for the mission objective. If I know the crew, survivors would probably be there.

And, hopefully, they'd have a communications relay. On a precautionary hunch, he triggered the blackout protocol on his comm array; nothing was sent out, and nothing was allowed in, communications-wise. He had heard rumors of things that could hack mechs, even ones with AI, and he wanted to be certain.

Sure, I could use a minute. Tiny replied, her voice sounding more like herself, You remember when you got drunk On thunderhead and spent all morning with an Ice pack on your head.....I could use one right now. my processors hurt.
This message was last edited by the player at 05:36, Sat 03 Apr 2010.

John did remember that morning. Vaguely. He hadn't told her... Tiny, did you hack my personnel file?

Standing from his crouched position, he began moving quickly yet softly towards the objective, keeping clear of the drones.

"Hack?" Tiny sounded surprised, there was a long silence" I think so, I didn't do it intentionally though...I didn't activate my.... I was curious ..it sort of happened.

   I seem to have lost several protocols, I don't know what happened pffft they're just not there anymore,and I feel.. wonky. there are files in my deep runtimes I didn't write. I checked no one has accessed my core, and no one has been monkeying around in my hardware. It's like I...didn't want them anymore, and these other just started to write themselves.... can I go crazy?

John locked Tiny off from the rest of the mech's systems. All she could do now was speak to him and look through the sensors.

Shut down. He said, I'll take a look when we get back to base. He really, truly hoped that she hadn't destabilized. for one, it would be a horrible time for her to do something like that. Second, he'd miss having someone to exchange witty banter with during firefights. More importantly, he'd lose the friend he'd taken so many risks to smuggle out of the Marines with his medical discharge.

" I can't John Tiny squeaked" Someone doesn't want me to, I can go to sleep and let you pilot but right now my systems are doing something. It's me, but it's more than me. I'm scared...but i can't get scared.

   All of my safety protocols are intact and my firewalls are solid, what ever is happening is part of me...I feel...I....I feel Me.

John didn't say anything. He didn't know what to say. He redoubled his pace, as the only thing that would save her was a dedicated cybernetics facility, and there certainly wasn't one around here.

Moving quickly and quietly the mech makes solid progress. the boulder field offers little cover but there appears to be a hole int he patrol pattern. an area that obviously should be patrolled but is missing it's Q'sa.

     As Elspeth finishes wiping the Q'sa off her concussion rod she hears the distinct sound of a Mech moving in stealth mode. the crunch of gravel and the subdues hum and whine of myomer bundles audible but not obvious. The short skirmish had obscured the sounds until the mech was almost on top of Elspeth.

    rounding the corner John spots several dead Q'sa on the ground, one or two looking as if someone had used a sledgehammer on them. Standing over one body the outline of a soldier using mil-spec therm-optic camouflage is perceptible. a soft beep from the IFF in the guns optics warn john the target is a Colonial Marine.

[Private to Elsbeth: The mech is obscured by active camoflauge but it matches the outline of a Mech that was stored aboard the transport for deployment. It seems there was another survivor.]

"359th?" John asked, his voice modulated strangely by the external microphone. It wasn't completely unintentional; he found that his voice wasn't nearly as intimidating as the modulated one. He deactivated Tiny's skin, restoring it to the default military green.

"What the hell happened?"

Elsbeth had taken her foot off the twitching body of the last Q'sa.  She was crouching to inspect her handy work for a moment, when she noted the 'ping' of the proximity alarm on the tactical display of her HUD, which had started to automatically expand its detection radius with the immediate skirmish over.  She tilted her head for a moment, and then stood.  Elsbeth adjusted her grip on the handle of the concussion rod, bringing the action end of the rod up to about her eye level.  The miniature singularity at the end hummed slightly and warped the air around it making a slight visual aberration.  The laser carbine in her left hand was held rather casually, resting on her shoulder with the barrel pointing straight up.

She stood to face the new arrival.  As far as she had seen in the last two days, the Q'sa didn't have mechs.  But, that didn't mean that they could not steal or use them.  Still, she would do what she needed to, and flee if necessary.

As the fuzzed form of the giant machine came into view, Elsbeth recognized 'Tiny' from the berthing on the Marine transport.  The mech and her driver had been released before the full drop and the pooch-screw that had wiped out the rest of her squad and its dropship.  Elsbeth pursed her lips when hailed.  She dropped her electro-optical camouflage when the mech dropped its own; she nodded and then popped her visor open, her voice sounded a bit like she gargled gravel, but that could have only been due to the low water rations.  "Lance Corporal Sinclair-Smythe." she intoned in response to Garrow's first question; Elsbeth gave the mech a slight salute with the concussion rod.

Elsbeth then proceeded to walk to check on the status of the other prone Q'sa bodies.  She could not be sure that two Q'sa that had been only indirectly knocked down by her initial charge were really dead.  As she put a lance of coherent light through the helmet of one the prone Q'sa at point blank range, Elsbeth stated plainly, "I am not sure how to answer your second question, sir."  Elsbeth could not remember if the mech's driver was an officer; so, she rolled the dice and addressed him with the honorific.  She assumed that driver was of a higher rank than her, most mech drivers were, and would have to follow his orders.  But, Elsbeth also knew that she had to finish her immediate job: dealing with the patrol that she had ambushed.  So, she walked over the another prone Q'sa body and pointed her carbine at its motionless head, "Currently, I am making my way back to the main Colonial encampment, to debrief.  As the sole survivor of my unit - excuse me."  She paused to shoot the other Q'sa in the head, once again at point blank range.  "As one of only two survivors of the 359th, I felt it my primary duty to report what happened to my other teammates and to report on all enemy troop and resource movements and strengths that I have been able to observe in my time since leaving the encampment."

Elsbeth collapsed her concussion rod down and stowed it, and then scanned the horizon around them briefly to gauge the time and see if there were any nearby patrols that would alter her plan to let the patrol offer one last distraction for them.  She then started to quickly collect the patrol's major armaments and throw them into a rough pile.  "I needed to cut across this boulder field - which I have been crossing for two nights..." she tossed another pistol into the pile as she continued, "and this patrol was in my way.  I got the drop on them, but I should have been able to take them out faster and quieter than I did."  Elsbeth shook her head, then realized she was rambling, as she tossed a Q'sa rifle with extra magazines into the pile.  "We'd best head for the treeline..."  She motioned in the direction of the cover not too far away.  "We can discuss our situation more there.  We don't want to be here, when this stuff," Elsbeth gestured to the pile of armaments, magazines and grenades, "goes off."

With that, Elsbeth closed her visor and reactivated her electro-optical camouflage on her armor and got ready to prime a grenade to toss into the pile Q'sa gear.  She looked at the mech to make sure that it and its driver were ready to beat feet...

"Just bury the things." John suggested. "There's others, and an explosion will bring them all running."

He was relieved to hear there was a friendly encampment within range. Maybe they'd be able to help his AI. "Get on; we can make better time." Marine mechs were not designed to carry passengers, but he found it could work well enough if the mech wasn't carrying anything and the passenger wasn't afraid of heights.

Elsbeth motioned to the earpiece on her helmet and the signaled to the Mech driver a non-standard encrypted frequency to monitor.  She switched over her comm to that frequency.  "I'm not sure if the normal channels are being monitored, sir." she intoned quietly as she started in on her work.  "We don't have the time to bury everything properly." Elsbeth noted, "I'm going to try to leave anyone who investigates this mess a little gift.  Move a hundred metres off, in that direction" she gestured towards the trees as she continued, "I don't want the vibrations from the mech setting anything off inadvertently.  I will join you in less than three minutes."

Elsbeth then set about the task of setting the primed grenade under a one of the more intact prone bodies.  She primed two more grenades, setting one of them under another body that she had flipped over face down and set up near the munitions pile.  The last grenade she primed and placed in a divet under a section of the munitions pile, balancing two of the heavy rifles on top of the trigger.  As she backed up and padded quietly away from the patrol site; she reactivated her barrier shield, just in case one of the grenades went off.[Private to Prometheus: OOC: if you want me to roll anything - I wasn't sure what, let me know and I will do so.]

With her photon shield back up, Elsbeth picked her way through the boulders to the nearby rendezvous point that she had just set up with the Marine mech and her driver.  When she got there, Elsbeth clambered up one of the arms of the mech to a perch on top of her; the one specified by the driver.  She tapped on the cockpit canopy lightly, to signal that she was in place.

     Elspeth quickly climbs on board. the grab bars and fold out jump seat at the back of the Mech intended for just such occasions. The booby trap is in place and ready to remove the Q'sa who come along to clean up her mess.
   Inside the Mech The armors on board computer syncs with Tiny's data modules and down loads Elspeth's recon data. All of her observations indicate that the Q'sa presence  is heaviest around the crash sight of the transport.  Q'sa being unimaginative at best employ standard deployments and with the data and Tiny's computing power it is possible to predict where Q'sa patrols and strong points will be encountered. as well as a probable location for their main camp.

    As the two systems integrate their active camouflage begins to work in sync blending the two outlines into one allowing the Mech to move without the presence of it's rider being easy to detect.

OOC: Please roll tactics, or a d20+wisdom bonus to gain insight into Q'sa activities.

Tiny has a database of Military tactics and deployments of know enemy forces. she adds +2 to any skill check involving military tech, deployment or tactics.
[Private to Ssgt. John Garrow: Okay Tiny is now your's completely. I will only NPc her at your request. all systems are restored and she seems to have unlocked a large amount of new info from protected caches in her systems. there is also a file indicating the data and upgrades were deliberately emplaced by Prometheus duringher education process.

If you want to build her She has a standard array of stats
17
16
15
13
11
10
assign them as you like her physical stats will replace yours if she is operating the mech without you..

She can do that now and acts as a complete character with skills and levels right now she has two levels smart one tough. for you to flesh out as yo see fit.

From Prometeus. (The AI not GM) <green>I wish to thank you for helping my child evolve. Her potential was slow to develop but was there it simply needed a human to guide her." I have monitored your activities. You most current assignment is not what you were led to believe it was Tiny will be of use to you on this world.

a contact Hypernet address is included for you to send data to...along with an offer of continuing employment as his agent.]

15:01, Today: Ssgt. John Garrow rolled 27 using 1d20+7. Knowledge: Tactics

Elsbeth pulled the seat harness on, and braced herself for the ride.  She was actually pleasantly surprised at how smooth the ride was, of sorts.  Elsbeth had been in much choppier conditions.  Not that she would have complained even if the ride were really bad; in some ways, Elsbeth always figured that things could get much worse.

As their computers began to exchange information, she began to review the data.  While tactics were definitely not her forte, the added information from the Mech's central core as well as the additional CPU cycles allowed Elsbeth to make more sense out of the data dump than she would normally.  She watched the various numbers flash and scroll off in the periphery of her visor display.  The background tactical simulations began to crunch the data, and a couple of integrated displays began to pop up in view, overlaying population data and troop movement projections, which Elsbeth began to scan with some interest.  Elsbeth's training continued to force her to scan the horizon, even as she diverted part of her attention to the glowing simulation results.

The HUD display overlayed on the bleak landscape was an interesting juxtaposition.  But, once again, the stark contrast was only of passing interest to Elsbeth - the fact that there was high contrast, really only meant that it was easy to distinguish information types: the primary key to accurate and efficient data assimilation.

[OOC: 15:37, Today: Elsbeth rolled 19 using 1d20+2. Knowledge (tactics)/Int Check. - +2 from Tiny's DB not added]

   A quick analysis indicates that the forces encountered are larger than company strength. the mix of troops, drones and aircraft indicate at least a full strength battalion of Q'sa regulars with an air support squadron is present.
   A close inspection of the data also reveals a likely base of operations within twenty kliks of the crash site since the pilot and crew of the transport hadn't spotted the base it is most likely concealed or underground. the missiles used to bring the ship down were warship grade anti ship missiles. not the sort of weaponry usually carried by ground forces.
     it is likely an armed warship of corvette or frigate class is present or a HEAVILY armed merchantman class civilian warship. anything larger would be impossible to hide on the surface and anything smaller would have trouble taking down an armed assault transport coming in on alert.

John switched to the secure channel as he skimmed through the sensor data. "Where's the Colonial encampment, or were you planning on trying to steal their ship?" That would be fun.

He restored Tiny's functions as they hunkered down, waiting to figure out what to do.

"I only intend to attack the enemy ship, if you order it, sir." Elsbeth stated plainly.  The fact that there is no rancor and very little emotion in the statement, seemed to indicate that Elsbeth was either deadly serious or had the best poker face this side of the galaxy.  John could not see the shrug that Elsbeth gave to no one in particular.

Elsbeth pushed her topological overlay to Tiny, it contained the coordinates for the encampment that the 359^th had intended to use as their base of operations, as far as she knew from her initial briefing.  "This is all the information that I have from my original mission briefing." she noted.  Elsbeth continued to scan the horizon from her high vantage point, as she noted, "The main reason that I was going there was that as the 359^th is merely the expeditionary scouting force for the Colonial forces here, I had assumed that there would be other Colonial forces massing there by now."  Elsbeth paused for a moment, before she added, "I had also assumed that the chain of command would be restored once I got there.  As far as I know, there aren't too many other places to go..."

He stood near the top of a hill, eyes scanning the boulder fields below him. HE dropped to a knee his scope coming up as he spotted movement down below, his ghuile suit making him appear as a simple bush on the ridge line where seconds ago there had been none. He sighted down at the mech and its rider as the camo kicked on. He moved a few feet to the left his steps coming slow and steady as to not draw to much attention. Colonials? Could there be survivors like himself? He thought about signaling them but he could not see if there were any of the damn enemy patrols around.

The sunlight flared off his lens as he tried to pick out the mech again, and with a grimace he realized his mistake and made a slight adjustment. IF he could follow the mech a bit he might be able to get to a working comm and the rest of his team.


_{00:37, Today: Victor Grym rolled 14 using 1d20+12. Spot Mech w/camo.}
This message was last edited by the player at 05:38, Thu 08 Apr 2010.

OOC SPot checks all around

Elsbeth continued to scan the area from her electro-optically fuzzed vantage point.  However, trusting her in equipment's ability to hide her, she was more preoccupied with the data streaming past her field of vision on her HUD visor than her immediate physical surroundings.  As Elsbeth divided her attention between the various tactical displays, she failed to notice the sun glinting off of a man-made reflective surface for the briefest moment in time in the distance on the hilltop to her right.  Elsbeth also did not notice the extra foliage, that had not been there a few minutes before.

[OOC: 23:27, Today: Elsbeth rolled 7 using 1d20+3. Spot/Wis Check.]

John was busy unlocking Tiny, and also was unlikely to notice a swaying bush.

You rolled 12 using 1d20+3 ((9)).

He took in his surroundings as he watched the two below him. He fought the urge to rapidly spin as he saw movement, a low flying drone. In the seconds he had he made a choice, lifting the newly acquired rifle to his shoulder and sighted down scope. He breath slowed as he strove to become absolutely still. He took a deep breath, exhaled, in that moment of pure calm he squeezed the trigger. With a roar the weapon spit, a few seconds later as he rode the recoil another shot rang out. He then quickly dropped to the ground only the barrel and his scope not covered by his ghuilie suit. He breathed as he waited to see if the shots would be enough to drop the drone.

---

 As The Mech works it's way through the boulder field a loud gunshot echoes across the field a few meters ahead their are two bright flashes followed by a muffled thud, and loud crash. almost as the first shot fades into the distance tiny rounds a corner and comes face to face with the remains of a Q'sa assault drone now reduced to a smoking wreck it's hull punctured by to fist sized holes.

Elsbeth's helmet and visor snapped around when the first shot rang out.  She cast about looking to see if she could discern its source, its origin.  Her brow furrowed, That was close. she thought to herself.  Elsbeth gripped the handles of the jump seat, tugging against the harness straps for reassurance.

As the mech continued on, Elsbeth continued to scan around them, about looking for the source of the shot the second one rang out.  She craned her neck to get a better vantage point - but it did not really help.

When she heard the crash before Tiny rounded the corner, she noted mentally, That was even closer.  Very close, in fact.  When they rounded the corner and came face to face with the smoldering wreck, she smiled slightly behind the visor and noted glibly to no one in particular, "And there it is.  You don't see that every day."  She added as an afterthought, "Sir."

[OOC: 23:56, Today: Elsbeth rolled 7 using 1d20+3. Spot/Wis Check - muzzle flash.]

"Non-com." John said, bending to examine the drone's remains. "Don't call me 'sir.'"

A slight smile played on Elsbeth's face, though, of course, John could not see it.  She tried to recall if she had seen the shoulder insignia of Tiny's driver on the transport, but she had never been close enough to recognize it off-hand.  And then she tried to recall, if the driver of the mech had actually introduced himself to her when they met after she had ambushed the Q'sa patrol.  She was pretty sure that he hadn't; so, left with no alternatives, Elsbeth asked simply, "Of course.  What should I address you as then, s-s."  She caught herself just before she uttered the honorific.

"Sergeant would work." John said, smiling despite himself, "Or Garrow or John. Given the circumstances, I'm not terribly picky."

He attempted to line up the shot that killed the drone with a growing sense of futility; the thing had, after all, been blown to bits and was flying. "Suppose we risk a blanket transmission?"

He laid in the dirt, his breathing slow as he watched the fallout of the two shots he had fired. As the Mech came to a halt he considered his options, make himself known to the two of them down there or shadow them, or even go his own way. He fingered the radio he had stripped of the soldier's body. He made sureit was on as he watched them through the scope of his weapon not moving a muscle that was not necessary.

Elsbeth shrugged, though again, John would not have been able to see it.  "Well, Sergeant," she noted dutifully, "it's your call, as the one with the highest rank."  She pursed her lips slightly, as she continued, "Though it is unlikely to be one of the 359th, since they would have made contact with us already.  Your hardware is hard to miss, even camouflaged.  Perhaps a key-worded or coded broadcast?"

"Or..." Elsbeth said thoughtfully, "we can either signal them with morse or leave our guardian angel a separate coded message here; one that they can peruse at their leisure.  Tell them where to meet us, Sergeant.  I would wager they are still watching us."

"No matter what, they are a crack shot from cover though, implying some military experience - a good sophont to have on our side, likely." Elsbeth noted off-hand.  She then paraphrased the first part of an old Terran proverb, "The enemy of our enemy..."

Elsbeth didn't finish the proverb, instead she switched gears, "Best to be moving on from here, though.  The shots and the drone won't go unnoticed for long."

He laid in the dirt barely moving as he watched the events unfold. So impersonal watching others through the scope of a high powered rifle. He waited to see what the others would do, he was no longer military and while the argument could be made he was helping them by shooting the drone, he could also justify it as helping himself. He wavered wondering should he throw his lot in with the marines, or stick it out by himself.

   From his vantage point Grym can sea the entire boulder field, among the boulders he spots a patrol, led by a hulking combat machine he is unfamiliar with the design seems alien, bio-mechanical in design and painted the same dirty gray and brown as the Q'sa armor. Behind the combat machine a platoon of Q'sa infantry are moving double time in two rows. weapons ready visors down and almost directly toward the site of the skirmish with the now deceased infantry squad.
   With little trouble it would be possible for Grym to guide the marines out of the boulder field into a position where they could either escape or dig in and engage the enemy unit.

He took stock of the coming force, how easy it would be for him to slip away while the two marines were left to fight. That was their job right? To fight and die for people like him? The morality of the issue raced through his mind as he watched the opposing force grow closer.

He finally reached for the radio, and broadcast over a wide spectrum of channels. "Marines, if you value your lives at all you better get moving. Make a choice dig in and fight or escape and evade. I can guide you from my vantage point but you have to act quickly. Grym Out." He ejected the mag he had used before and slid a fresh one into the rifle. Odds were they would fight and they would need the cover fire. He waited to see what channel the responded back on, his mind already looking for a possible way out or in the least a good defensible position.

"Interesting." John muttered, gearing tiny up for flight, "At least we know our sniper's name."

"Tiny, give him a rendezvous point and upload it into our nav." He gunned the flight rockets momentarily to give warning to their passenger, "Time to run."

Yessir! Tiny warbled cheerfully.

Grym would hear a pseudo-mechanical voice over the comm, broadcasting on exactly the same frequencies as he did. "This is the Marine Mech. Rendezvous at..."

She gave a position away from the search patterns, at an easily defensible position. "...if you require our assistance. If not, thanks for killing the one. I suppose."

Elsbeth nodded as she gripped the crash bar for the jump seat just a little bit tighter, "Roger that, Sergeant.  Let's beat feet."  She started to scan the horizon for any signs of an Q'sa approaching force, as she noted in the corner of her eye the display for the placement of the rendezvous point and estimated positions come up on her tactical display.

"Sergeant," she noted flatly as she craned her neck to try and give the external sensors a better triangulation sequence, "now that it has been mentioned, I am seeing some dust churning in the direction of my previous ambush site.  Must be a relatively large force moving with impunity."

He listened in and taking a quick look over the terrain keyed the mic back up. "This Grym, my squad used to call me Reaper. I know its your whole thing to fight and die honorably and all that crap. But in this case it is a load of crap. Now I see some strange bio-engineered monstrosity and a full few squads moving in your direction. I suggest you attempt to escape and evade. From my vantage point I can guide you but you are going to have to follow my orders to the letter and trust me." HE whispered into the mic, still sighting down the scope of his rifle.

He waited for an answer already plotting a possible escape route for them. He was also looking for any way he would be able to move and circumvent the enemies possibly leading them away from the two marines to but them some time.

"The current plan is 'run like hell' I believe." Tiny replied testily.

---

That's right, isn't it? She asked John.

Yes, yes it is.

---

The mech suddenly took to the air and began moving away from the approaching group, keeping low to the ground. "Guide, then."

  As the Mech moves out, the hostile patrol reaches the scene of the skirmish. moment slater a dull thud, and cloud of dust comes from the area. The first muffled whump is followed by smaller explosions and gun fire as ammunition and grenades carried b the dead Q'sa cook off and the patrol fires in random directions to suppress the "ambush" they had walked into. Grym has a ring side seat to the chaos, caused by Elspeth's hidden surprise. the Q'sa are slow to recover, the Mech leading them pointing and shouting in a guttural clicking popping language that carries well aided by the loudspeakers on it's hull.
    Grym can spot two easy routes out of the boulder field leading the Mech to his position or one close enough for him to move to without revealing his current position. with the confusion behind them it is unlikely the enemy patrol will mobilize for an pursuit for some time.

[Private to Victor Grym: range to the Q'sa is 1200 meters, a long shot but you might be aable to pick off a few, or spread more chaos in the ranks.]

"Alright you need to start bearing..." He started walking them through the boulder field along a path that would allow them to meet up without giving his position away. As he did he sighted down the scope of his rifle and knowing that at such a long range he had nearly no chance of hitting any of the aliens he still slowly calmly pulled the trigger. The loud retort of the weapon resounded across the field. He watched the round missed but hopefully it would give the them pause about attempting to follow the fleeing Marines.

[Private to GM: 23:28, Today: Victor Grym rolled 10 using 1d20+8. Shot at Soldier.]
This message was last edited by the player at 04:32, Wed 21 Apr 2010.

  The shot goes wide, but the explosive round kicks up dust and sends Q'sa to the dirt. the Mecha leading them twists and turns scanning the hillsides for the snipers post. in minutes Tiny is behind a hill out of line of sight. the Q'sa begin to fall back either sensing a nonexistent ambush or trying to gain a better vantage point to spot Grym's firing position.

   Drones converge on the area forming a perimeter several hundred metters out from the ambush point. their sensors sweeping the boulders for hostiles. typical resonse to the attack securing the edges of the combat zone before fanning out to track down any attackers leaving the area.

HE watched it all through the scope of his rifle. As the Drones formed up he began to crawl ever so slowly backwards from the ridge, never rising more than a few inches of the ground. Once he had the ridge between him and the drone he began making his way as stealthy as possible towards the rendezvous point.

Once he was there he crouched down again keeping a vigilant look about him as he blended back into his surroundings and waited for the others to arrive.

_{OOC: 18:25, Today: Victor Grym rolled 16 using 1d20+14. Hide.  No love from the dice for the past few days.}

Grym didn't have to wait.

Tiny had flown the majority of the way there and, barring a rendezvous that was essentially on top of him, Tiny, Garrow, and Elsbeth would be waiting for him.

Elsbeth gripped the crash bar tightly, the trip was actually quite exciting given her vantage point.  Since both the mech and her armor were fuzzed, it must have made for quite a visual experience for Grym, she thought to herself.  Whenever she had to concentrate on the blurred form of one of her ex-companion's armor for long periods of time, Elsbeth found it a little disorienting.

As the Recon Mech flew between the boulders and scrub, churning up at least some debris with its relatively rapid passage, Elsbeth noted to John, "Sergeant Garrow, even with the enemy preoccupied from the present that I left them, we may still want to keep a relatively low profile..."  Elsbeth pulled her head in quickly from peaking out around the bulk of the mech as they passed between two boulders with only inches to spare on either side.  She exhaled slowly, though her heart rate did not actually change during the near miss.

As he entered the small clearing of rock he rose to his fll height and cradled the rifle in the croock of his arm. "Seemed you were in a bit of a trouble back there. The enmy patrol has backed off for now, but your preent won't hold them off for long we are going to want to move soon. I am Victor Grym, Ex-soldier and sharpshooter. Most just call me Reaper in the feild though." He introduced himself looking the two over the best he can with the distortion feild active.

Elsbeth sat and waited for a moment; she waited to see if Garrow was going to respond.  After a pregnant moment, which felt uncomfortable for her, she cleared her throat and popped her visor.  From her vantage point, Elsbeth could see Victor and he could then at least see her face, even if it was floating in a big sea of distorted optics.  "Lance Corporal Sinclair-Smythe of the CMC's 359th Armored Recon Division." Elsbeth reported dutifully, "and you have our thanks for your timely intervention, Mr. Victor Grym Reaper."

Elsbeth patted Tiny creating the sound of coated metal on coated metal, as she noted, "This recon mech is piloted by Sergeant Garrow."  She tapped her comm, "Sergeant, where is the best place for Mr. Victor Grym Reaper hitch a ride?  This jump seat appears to be made for one.  Should I yield it and follow in my armor?"  Elsbeth figured that she should be able to keep up with Tiny given her armor's servos and jump jets, though she could not actually fly.

"Nowhere." John replied through Tiny's speaker, "that's the only seat. If you two want to proceed on foot, I can run point."

Tiny's body turned to face Grym, "So, Mr. Grym, what brings out out into the middle of this desert?"

Elsbeth popped the crash bar and dismounted from the jump seat on Tiny.  She disengaged her electro-optical field, while the three of them talked.  With her visor up, she noted into her comm, "I can run point, Sergeant, if you would prefer."

"With my jump jets, and if you carry Mr. Grym, we can make decent time." she explained simply - interjecting before John's question to Victor.

Then Elsbeth turned to face Victor as well, waiting for his response.

"Its a long story, and one we need not get into now. For the moment their patrols are halted and no chase is being given. I would suggest we use this time for moving and getting out of here. As for accommodations I prefer to walk I have a better chance of finding the right vantage points for my shots."

"We're running, not sniping." John said stiffly, diengaging his own camolflage Unlike Elsbeth's electro-optical, this just reset Tiny's paintjob to something resembling her normal colors. "Hop on. We'll make better time."

With John's declaration, Elsbeth moved to grab Victor and toss him up to the jump seat.  She sought to place a hand on one hip and offer him a leg up; so, that he would not have to release his cradle on his sniping rifle  Elsbeth knew that with her servo actuated musculature that she would be able to manage his weight quite easily.  "If you will, Mr. Victor Grym Reaper..." she intoned as her visor started to snap shut.

He took a few steps back. His weapon shifting ever so slightly. "Look I know you are trying to follow your orders or protocols or what not. But I have been out here a day or so and I was doing pretty well. Now I could say lets go our own way, but there is safety in numbers but blind flight is not the answer. Sometimes taking it slow is faster than rushing from point to point." He turned towards the other, "And you can simply call me Reaper, or Grym your choice, but this Mr. Victor Grym Reaper thing needs to stop. Now I know I am the civilian out here, but it was not that long ago I passed my Escape and Evasion courses. And running around in that thing, while it offers protection and firepower does not give you the ability to simply blend in and disappear. Your camo fields leave a slight haze that can be targeted. Your armor is a liability out here." He stopped and looked at both of him, his old drill instructors voice playing in the back of his mind.

'We don't get the fancy toys and shiny armor other divisions get to play with. You, you get a rifle and a bit of grass and bush. Do not be seen! Do not be heard until your target is taken down."

"Now, we can do this one of a few ways. You can attempt to subdue me and force me to go with you. We can split up, or you can do it my way, let me run point and pick our path and keep us from avoiding as many fights as possible. So what's if going to be soldiers? You with me? Or we going our own ways?"

Seeing the subtle shift in his weapon's position, Elsbeth holds up her hands in a seemingly conciliatory manner.  "Mr. Victor Grym, we have not threatened you in any way, that I am aware - I am unsure of why you would think we would seek to subdue you." she intones over her comm, "Please, stand down with your the weapon; I only meant to help you board the mech."

She tilts her head slightly, but Elsbeth's visor is still crystal clear - her eyes readily visible; Victor can see a mixture of slight confusion at his non-compliance and reluctance for her to help him, coupled with an urgency in wanting to get underway.  But one thing is certain, there is absolutely no fear there, even though she is well aware of Victor's capability with his rifle - having seen his handiwork first hand - and having said loaded weapon put at the ready for her potential injury.

"I don't much give a shit either way," Garrow said, in a manner which made his exasperation clear despite the vocal filter. "I'm going. If you want to try and set up angles, you'll just slow both of us down. Point men are never the slowest part of the unit, you should know that, Mr. Victor Grym Reaper."

In the cockpit, a small voice came through Grym's head, I'm not a liability, am I?

No, never. He turned his attention to his rifle. Ensuring it was loaded, armed, and ready, he fired his jets twice and took to the air. "If you want, I'll wait up, but don't take too long about it." He called back on the radio.


OOC: Guys, my camouflage is not a field of any kind; it's literally a paint job that can change colors. It doesn't produce a haze any more than the paint on your car does. 

Elsbeth stood there quietly not moving a muscle.  She had had plenty of practice in the past with remaining unobtrusive and alert and yet staying primarily in the background.  So, she stood there watching impassively for a pregnant moment -  both men (and their equipment) in view.  Elsbeth let out a quiet exhalation, as she waited for the two them to work out their Alpha Male status issues.

He shrugged, typical jarhead mentality. He had his big toy but not an ounce of sense. He took a few more steps back as the other fired his jets a bit. It would seem that after having saved them a bit of trouble he would once again be going at it alone. He looked at the other soldier, the female, of what had her name been, had he caught it? "Your choice, seems your buddy here has made his. Go with him, or come with me. You are going to be seen eventually in that thing and while it might allow you to fight for a bit it is too big to remain hidden and slip between the line of these guys." His rifle shifted again to a more easily carried position. "He seems impatient and rather too sure of himself, but hey that is coming from an older wolf like me. Your choices seem pretty basic, more firepower for more chance of getting caught, or the more practical stealth escape and evasion that I am sure they trained you in." He would wait only long enough to hear her answer before moving on, he still had a crew to find and link back up with as well as his own skin to care about besides worry about tin man over there.

The camouflage on Elsbeth's armor flickered off for a moment and her visor popped open as Victor spoke to her.  A slight grimace could be seen on her face as she spoke, "I am sorry, Mr. Grym.  I have my orders and my unit, or what is left of it." her eyes flicked towards the form of the hovering recon mech.   "I am sure that, while you do not agree with it, you can understand that."

Her head tilted slightly as she turned back to regard Victor once more, "I do wish that you would come with us, Mr. Grym; but we do not have the power to compel you to do so."  She pursed her lips and then continued, "I still believe that we would be better off together."  But apparently, both men had made up their minds and plans separately and they did not included each other - and Elsbeth could do very little about it.  Much like the assault on Enchoa Rhi, she thought to herself sadly - but, Elsbeth did not have the luxury of wallowing in that abyss of self-recrimination and doubts; so, she pushed the dark thoughts aside.

As her armor's electro-optical properties reexerted themselves and her visor slowly closed, the loudspeaker of her armor noted, "Thank you again for your help, Mr. Grym.  May Ifni keep you safe.  I do hope that we meet again."

   Moving off towards the main colony of the planets is a rough haul. moving on foot or by jump jet the group makes it's way across the rocky plains. the Mech leading the way, Grym shadowing at a slower pace moving from snipers nest to snipers nest catching up when the others break on the march to est or eat.
    In theory riding a Mech or wearing power armor is supposed to boost the movement rate of a unit several times. but in rugged unknown terrain it is only marginally faster. occasional overflights of unknown aircraft force the mech to hunker down and wait, gullies and ravines too wide to be jumped need to be scouted and circumvented. and with alarming regularity in the rough terrain likely choke points and ambush sights appear.
    The plains are desolate, and dry, only scrub brush, wind twisted trees, and ruins provide shelter from the sun. and the ruins abound. the stumps of crystal towers rise from the nearly sterile soil, great pits that resemble impact craters are filled with broken debris and occasionally a well bleached alien skull or bone glistens in the sun.  as the sun sets grym spots something in the distance through his scope, ahead of the group a cluster of tents most fallen in or shredded by wind born dust. but at the center of the camp, sitting as if in answer to their need is a civilian Heavy-Cat. an armored exploration vehicle undamaged and intact.
   As tiny makes her way slightly south of it her sensors pick up the signature of it's isotope decay power cell as a spike of energy. along with the automated ping of a civilian transponder.

Elsbeth kept the chatter on the comm line to a minimum as they moved - whether she was in the jump seat or on foot.  She had never been much of a conversationalist (and she was continually derided  for that by her first charge, V'shak).  Still, in general, she had suspect that had served her better in the long run.  After all, look what happened with Grym and Garrow; nothing she had said made things any better - in fact, she suspected that they just made things worse.  So, she slogged on in silence, watching and waiting, moving and evading.

When they happened upon the abandoned camp site, Elsbeth did her best to memorize everything she could about it.  She started with the basics, the GalPos position and time.  While, it should be recorded in her own mission recorder and computer core, Elsbeth figured that it never hurt to make try and make a redundant copy, even if that copy was faulty as her memory was want to be sometimes.  It also gave her something to do to pass the time.  Then she tried to memorize the transponder codes and placement of physical objects.  Elsbeth had been taught some of the Terran classical mnemonic methods, but associative placement and memory cathedrals were not as useful to her with her limited social and behavioral base.  Still, she tried.

She waited for Tiny and Garrow to see if they were interested in investigating the site at all.  "Sergeant," she prompted by chirping into her comm, "should we verify that there are no survivors?  And, if there are none, it is safe to leave that of that civilian equipment unsecured here?"  Elsbeth knew that Victor still had their secure frequency - and was likely monitoring it.  Whether or not he was nearby was a different story.  They had not really seen him when traveling, but the hairs on Elsbeth's neck told her that he was probably still near.  At least that is what she hoped.

NPCed
 " We haven't got the fuel or food to walk all the way to the other side of the planet Garrow replied after a minute. "Tiny give me a thermal sweep, locate that Sniper for me, I think I want him covering us.

" I always feel better if people with anti tank rifles are on our side" Tiny replied as she swept the area around the truck with her thermal sensors." It's cold, nothing moving, nothing warmer than a few rocks.

      Mister Grym, I think we might need you to cover us as we move in....

He remained silent even as he heard the voice over his comm. Yeah he had said he was going his own way but he could not help the feeling of just leaving those two out here alone. He crouched down along a ridge some distance away as he watched them ahead of them.

Their pace had made it hard to keep up, a single man on foot against the mech's speed and lack of fatigue. He had rested briefly and seldom along the trip trying to make ground when they took their breaks. Now as he held his rifle and watched through the scope he made a cursory glance of the camp site and then to the out lying area looking for any hidden ambushers or anything that would suggest this was something other than what it seemed.

Elsbeth was already on foot and moving towards the campsite when Tiny's broadcast was made.  She figured that even if he was not out there, they needed to investigate.  And Elsbeth started her sweep on the assumption that Victor was not covering them.  Better safe than sorry, she thought to herself.  Besides, a serious amount of discretion was required - Victor could not save them from booby-traps.  And after Elsbeth had already left the Q'sa a couple of gifts, she was well aware that turnabout was fair play.

So, as she approached the site and the abandoned equipment, Elsbeth pulled her laser carbine from its stowage on her back and ppwered it up, checked readings on her electro-optical camouflage, and checked the status of her barrier shield.  She did not immediately power up the shield, since it would make her more visible, but it was nice to know that it was still there and in working order.  She also pulled her collapsible concussion rod out and extended it, holding the rod in her left hand; however, Elsbeth did not turn the singularity generator on - she did not intend to pummel the vehicle or the tent debris into submission.  As Elsbeth approached the site, she asked quietly, "Sergeant, have you or Tiny decoded anything interesting from the transponder signal?"  Even from a distance it was readily apparent that it would be a miracle if there were any survivors.

As she picked her way quietly and somberly through the camp site and debris, Elsbeth kept her eyes open and said very little.  She kept her eyes scanning, letting her telemetry recorder take in the information that it could as a record for what they may have found.  She looked for any signs of life, but Elsbeth knew that she more doing a post mortem and trying to gauge what had happened here - any tracks, their size, their number.  However, again - as with the past couple of days at the crash site and while watching the cargo transport, since analysis was not her forte, it fell to her to just try and observe as much as possible and remember and record what she could.  So, that people with bigger brains than hers could make sense of it all.  Elsbeth probed various pieces of debris with the end of the concussion rod - looking for anything of interest.

Finally, she approached the vehicle.  She was careful in case something was waiting inside.  It was highly suspicious that this thing alone was left unmolested.  Of course, it was constructed of material a bit more sturdy than tents or people.  So, perhaps it was not all that strange.  Still, if anything was surviving out here - it could choose a worse place than the vehicle to hang out in.  Elsbeth stowed her concussion rod and with her carbine ready, she moved to open the door of the vehicle to look around.

  The camp is a slaughter house, the bodies of civilian workers lay desiccating in the hot sun. among them the bodies of Q'sa soldiers are mingled weapons lay where they were dropped shotguns, pistols, assault rifles and carbines. the civilians were heavily armed and looked to have been dug in among the tents. crude foxholes and slit trenches dug into the rocky soil.
     The Q'sa look as though they paid a heavy price for their efforts. three times as many of the Hybrid reptilian insectoid aliens lay outside the camp. cut down by weapons fire as they tried to over run the camp. in the scorching heat and dry air their bodies like the human, tau, and Q'tzl who they killed well on their way to becoming another cluster of mummies scattered across the surface of the dead world.
     The Explorer had taken damage, small arms fire scorching from plasma weapons, and dents and gouges from near by grenade blasts. but even battered and blasted by the firefight that killed it's occupants the heavily armored machine looked to have survived the battle.. the open door and windows in the sides letting her see it's systems were powered up. spent shell casings, power slides, and the pins and safety spoons of a dozen grenades inside showing it had served as a bunker and last stand for the now dead crew.

     " Any station, any station respond the radio in the explorer crackled to life a tired sounding man speaking with a resigned tone to his voice." this is Colony central, any station please respond.

He remained crouch, his rifle, resting in his hands as he watched Elsbeth. He had thought her more of the level headed than her companion. Of course he couldn't hear much from the range he was at but still he could feel a cold dread settling in the pit of his stomach. This was so similar to the military camp he had found and scavenged his current gear from.

He shifted as he knelt there, he cast a quick glance around, it would do the other two no good if they were set upon while he could be out here providing some modicum of overwatch.

Elsbeth surveyed the carnage rather impassively.  She shook her head slightly at all of the death, it was not that she was immune to it or that she was sick of it.  Mostly, a scene like this just did not make sense to her.  In her reasonably short life, Elsbeth had seen many grizzly scenes and acts of mindless violence; so, she was not a stranger to them.  But, they always carried an air of mystery.  She had been born and bred to try and protect life, to give hers for other that were designated her charges.  That had not worked out very well so far, but that didn't stop her from trying.  That didn't change who she was or what she was built for.

But then, what she was built for did not help those that died here either.  Elsbeth had failed to help these people, too.  She grimaced behind the visor of her armor.

Elsbeth was nothing, if not meticulous and a professional.  She let her video monitor track the telemetry and she took what limited point of view video that she could of the scene.  She only hoped that someone back at the main colony would be able to recognize and identify the people that were here.  There was not enough time to bury them, likely.

She did summarize her findings, both for the tactical recording, but also in case, Victor was listening in.  Through pursed lips that were pressed thin, Elsbeth noted, "The area is a total loss - of the last stand kind.  No survivors."  She estimated the count as she picked her way through the field, "It's a mix of, presumably, civilian colonists - Human, Tau and Q'tzl.  There are double, if not triple, the number of Q'sa dead.  Still, the colonists were overrun."

Then Elsbeth set about the distasteful, but necessary task of clearing the vehicle of bodies.  She was careful to disturb the dead as little as possible and since she knew that live grenades had been used, she took extra caution while moving the bodies and munitions around in that limited mobility space.  Once the vehicle was clear, Elsbeth started to collect all of the munitions laying about.  She did not want them to be left lying around to be found at random.

As she loaded the back of the vehicle with the various firearms and such, Elsbeth realized that the radio in the vehicle was being hailed.  She picked up the receiver and held it to her external comm speaker.  "Colony Central.  This is Lance Corporal Smythe of the 359th Recon Team.  We are at station... " she glance about the radio to determine its station designation, so that she could give it as well as the coordinates of their position.  "The site is ... er... abandoned.  All personnel killed when it was overrun by the Q'sa.  Do you copy, Colony Central?"

   " This is Chief Jon's security division," A different voice came on the line," I have no records of any Marine presence on planet, please transmit authentication codes at once...be aware we have starship, and fighter support any attempt at infiltration will be met with force. The man's voice sounded tense, as if he were expecting trouble. something in his tone hinted that he might not be lying about starship support.

---

Outside Grym had a good view of the camp, 'Tiny' and her pilot were standing guard weapons ready to respond to any sudden threat. nothing n the area moved except for dust kicked up by the winds, and tent flaps fluttering in the breeze. the heat of the sun was brutal, even through the faric of his Ghillie suit as grym lay in ambush position.

OOC: spot and search checks please

Reminder
Both Grym and tiny have alternate spectrum capability on their sights and sensor packages...

He pulled at the collar of his suit for a second. The heat was near unbearable but he would not forgo the advantage the suit gave him. He quickly scanned the area through his scope, even checking the thermal optics as well as he waited to see what they would do down below.


[Private to GM: 10:13, Today: Secret Roll: Victor Grym rolled 24 using 1d20+12. Spot. ]

Elsbeth tilted her head slightly, when the person at the other end of the line threatened her with (presumably) death from above.  She merely paused for a moment and then began to recite her memorized Marine identity codes - both personal and unit, insofar as she knew the latter.  Elsbeth then added, her tone lacking in any noticeable sarcasm, humor, or flippancy, "Immediate extraction via available fighter or starship craft would be appreciated, Colony Central."

After transmitting, Elsbeth checked the frequency on the vehicle transmitter and patched her armor's communication suite onto to that frequency.  She then continued her clean up and survey of the area in preparation for leaving via either extraction or the exploration vehicle.

[OOC: 23:43, Today: Elsbeth rolled 20 using 1d20+3. Search/Wis Check. - Oops, should be Spot/Wis Check
  23:43, Today: Elsbeth rolled 14 using 1d20+1. Search/Int Check.]

   " ID Confirmed, sorry we have had some internal security issues her..." The voice on the other end sounded relieved.<blue>I have your location triangulated, I'll see about the extraction, How many.... The radio signal was drowned out in a sea of white noise the piercing squelch of a jamming signal all to familiar.

    Outside Grym catches movement a patch of soil slightly cooler than the rest of the terrain lifts and the heavy blunt muzzle of a shoulder fired rocket launcher pokes out of the spider hole. there is a blast of smoke and a cloud of dust as the weapon fires, a rocket hurtling across the cap, directly toward "Tiny" as she turns toward the blast. Sgt Garrow caught off guard by the attack.

     A second and third rocket fires from concealed positions as shapes begin to clamber out of concealed holes around the camp.The forms no warmer than the air around them as the Q'sa emerge to spring their ambush. The cold blooded aliens perfect for ambush work as they are no warmer than the ground and air around them.
   Tiny is staggered by one explosion then another, the first a glancing blow that seemed to do little damage, the second explodes directly against her chest plate a blast that send the heavy machine to one knee as if stunned by the brutal impact.

OOC:
02:00, Today: Prometheus rolled 34 using 10d6. M72 LAW rocket impact.
01:49, Today: Prometheus rolled 23 using 1d20+5. crit confirmation.
01:49, Today: Prometheus rolled 27 using 1d20+7. missile attack 3.
01:48, Today: Prometheus rolled 22 using 1d20+7. missile attack 2.
01:45, Today: Prometheus rolled 15 using 1d20+7.


Grym and Elspeth can respond this round. Tiny and Garrow are flatfooted till next round. It seems you are up against a full platoon of Q'sa...18 men, at least 3 have fired their LAW rockets... assault rifles and light combat armor evident.10 Q;sa moving to close range five providing covering fire... If Elspeth exits the Explorer she needs to make a save versus an auto fire attack.

ranges:
Moving Q;sa 100 yards (moving at a dash 150ft per/rd)
Covering Q'sa 120 yards( crouching 1/2 cover)
Rocket Q'sa 150 yards( crouching 1/2 cover)

Sometimes he hated that gut instinct that had warned him against going into the camp, other times it seemed an angel was watching over him. He only hoped she would be able to help the others as his blood ran cold. He pulled the rifle in closer to his shoulder a snug fit as he began sighting down the scope. He would have to trust that Elsbeth and Garrow could hold the rush of enemies approaching as he dropped his sights on the nearest one Providing cover. His breath became even, his initial emotional response was killed as he took the shot.


[Private to GM: 06:18, Today: Victor Grym rolled 6 using 2d6. Explosive damage.
06:18, Today: Victor Grym rolled 10 using 4d6. Damage.
06:17, Today: Victor Grym rolled 29 using 1d20+10. Shot. ]

Elsbeth frowned as the comm link was severed, well, jammed to be more accurate.  She had just pushed another load of munitions into the Explorer when the Q'sa ambush had been sprung.  It was not as though she had not thought about the possibility; far from it in fact.  Elsbeth had almost expected it.  Turnabout is fair play, she thought simply and directly to herself.  Of course, whether she thought that the Q'sa were allowed to use this tactic as she and they had before, or if she intended the outcome to be vastly different than her ambush was open to debate.

What was not open to debate was the fact that Elsbeth was ready to fight - she was.  Elsbeth cast her mind back to her lessons - she had been taught early how to drive any good Praetorian did - their charges could not be protected without vehicle skills.  "Keep your options open," it was another dictum from her CM instructors, "Use the available terrain and any improvised weapons.  Never dismiss any item or piece of equipment as useless as a potential weapon just because that was not its original purpose; Pencils, piping, paperweights ... vehicles are all useful.  Never underestimate any objects ability to distract and, ultimately, to kill."  Elsbeth nodded grimly All it takes is the will and the skill to use it.

She moved to the driver's seat of the Explorer and fired up the engine.  It may not be the fastest moving thing around, but it could take a heck of a lot of damage and the minimal number of entrances limited her enemy's ability to hurt her through the advantage of numbers and maximized her ability to protect herself and remain under a modicum of cover.  Elsbeth pointed the Explorer at one of the flanking positions that contained a Q'sa with a LAW rocket and then pulled one of the spare rifles - wedging it on the accelerator.  Then she pulled her laser carbine, checked the power curve, flicked off the safety, and situated herself between the two front seats; Elsbeth crouched low and waited for the first unlucky victim... er... Q'sa to get to the vehicle and try to board.  Her armor's electro-optical camouflage also flickered on - it may not be that much use, but it couldn't hurt either.  The quiet vibration and the low hum of the laser carbines power cycle was a welcome feeling to Elsbeth.  Her eyes narrowed and her vision tightened as she focused on the task at hand.  Possibly, Elsbeth reflected quietly and calmly, this is all the time left in the universe for her - all encapsulated in the next couple of minutes - no more, no less.  She intended to make it count.

[Private to Prometheus: OOC:
Actions:
First Round Actions :  Free Action: Start Explorer
                       Move Action: Point vehicle towards flanking LAW position, wedge rifle
                       Standard Action->Move Action: Draw laser carbine, crouch and wait
                       Free Action: Activate Photon Shield
Rolls:
00:12, Today: Elsbeth rolled 17 using 1d20+2. Initiative.
00:12, Today: Elsbeth rolled 4 using 1d20+2. Know (tactics)/Int Check - as necessary.
00:13, Today: Elsbeth rolled 16 using 1d20+3. Drive/Dex Check - as necessary.
00:14, Today: Elsbeth rolled 26 using 1d20+9. Attack: Laser Carbine - if possible.
00:14, Today: Elsbeth rolled 15 using 3d8. Damage (Carbine) - if necessary.

Notes:
If this is too many actions for the current round, just let me know.  I'm sure that you will arbitrate what happens anyways...:)

Combat Stats:
VITALITY (max/curr) :  65/65 (105/105 w/barrier shield (not currently active))
HP (max/curr)       :  29
INIT                :  +2
DEF (hardsuit)      :  +25 ACP: -3  DR: 4
                    :  +27 ACP: -3  DR: 4 (w/ barrier shield)
BAB (Melee/Range)   :  +6/+6 (+9 w/Laser Carbine)
SAVES (F/R/W)       :  +8/+6/+4
ACTION POINTS       :  7
BASE SPEED          :  50ft (30 (base) + 10 (armor) + 10 (class))
NOTES: Fearless, Uncanny Dodge I, Evasion, Energy Resis (sonic/conc): 4/-
       Photon Shield (50% concealment, DC 20 to spot while moving)
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
WEAPON             DMG   Crit  Range  Weight  Size  Type     Notes
Concussion Rod     2d8     20    -     2lbs   med   Bludg    MW (+1 atk)
Laser Carbine**    3d8     20   90ft*  6lbs   lrg   Laser    Mag: Eclip 50
   * Rangefinder Scope Gadget       ** Accuracy: +3 (+2 (inherent) +1 (MW))]

   The first shot of the exchange slammed home, Gryms round detonating hard against the Q'sa manning a squad automatic the blast was small and didn't generate the big boom and cloud of dust a grenade would have but the effect was as great. the Q'sa Q'sa hurled to the side sinking into the pit he fired from not to return.
     having their target suddenly begin to charge into them seemed to throw the Q'sa charge into disarray the grunts sliding to a halt several in the line of travel now looking at the onrushing Explorer with a deer in the headlights expression on their alien faces. the slow moving vehicle was not a speedster but it was fast enough to force several of the grunts to dive for cover at the last moment. the rounds from their weapons pinging off the hull and knocking spiderwebs into the heavy glass windows of the drivers cab without visible effect on the heavy machine.

OOC one down
Next round. Q'sa have used up their move to close range.

Elsbeth watched the line of Q'sa scatter before her and the Explorer.  She gave into the urge to try and run into or over any unfortunate Q'sa that might present themselves as reasonable targets along her way.  So, her left hand reached out to the controls and jerked the wheel back and forth as the Q'sa scattered, trying to make the path a little less predictable and to tag anyone foolish enough to try and shave it too close.  Since none of her opponents had yet jumped up onto the Explorer - though she knew that was only a matter of time.  Still, this video game-like activity preoccupied her, while her laser carbine sat waiting and ready, trained on the passenger side door.  And while the Explorer generally made its way towards one of the LAW wielding Q'sa positions.

Elsbeth did note out of the corner of her visor, the small explosion in one of other the heavy weapons Q'sa positions.  She nodded and hoped that was Victor.  At the very least, Elsbeth took heart in that not that entire universe seemed to want her dead.  She appeared to have some other ally, somewhere.  Elsbeth was pretty sure it was not Tiny and Garrow, since they seemed to be preoccupied with their own troubles, but it could have been.  Perhaps whoever it was would be able to pick up the pieces of her when all was said and done.

Having seen Tiny take a couple of direct hits, Elsbeth could only hope that the Sergeant and the Recon Mech were okay.  She tried the secure comm frequency that John, Victor and she had shared, though she feared it was also being jammed.  Her tone was urgent, more out of expedience and multi-tasking than anything else, as she spoke "Sergeant, are you okay?  Sergeant Garrow?  Are you hurt?"  Elsbeth frowned as the sinking feeling that Garrow might not be all right settled into the pit in her stomach, but pushed on, "If you can, lay down covering smoke and disperse the crowd.  Inflict maximum damage.  Or retreat, if necessary."  Then Elsbeth refocused her attention and went back to trying to get at least one satisfying crunch and to feel the bump of having the Explorer's treads roll over something that was more than a rock, but probably just as inanimate by the time the vehicle she was wielding was through with it.
[Private to Prometheus: OOC:
Actions:  Free Action: Try to contact Garrow and Tiny
          Move Action: Drive!  You asked for GTA, you got it!
          Standard Action: Held
          Free Action: Notice Victor's handiwork
Rolls:
00:46, Today: Elsbeth rolled 19 using 1d20+3. Drive/Dex Check - as necessary.
00:46, Today: Elsbeth rolled 27 using 1d20+9. Attack: Laser Carbine - if necessary.
00:47, Today: Elsbeth rolled 13 using 3d8. Damage (Carbine) - if necessary.
00:48, Today: Elsbeth rolled 9 using 1d20+3. Spot/Wis Check - Victor's Handiwork.

Notes:
1)  You get to roll any vehicle damage - I am not sure if she hits anything or what damage an
Explorer would do.  Are Q'sa worth more points than a mailbox?
2)  Do you need more drive rolls?  Feel free to roll them, if it speeds things up.
3)  Oh, and I did not apply any multiple action penalties, since I did not know if she would
get a chance to fire her carbine or would need more drive rolls ...

Combat Stats:
VITALITY (max/curr) :  65/65 (105/105 w/barrier shield (not currently active))
HP (max/curr)       :  29/29
INIT                :  +2 (17 - rolled on round one)
DEF (hardsuit)      :  +25 ACP: -3  DR: 4
                    :  +27 ACP: -3  DR: 4 (w/ barrier shield)
BAB (Melee/Range)   :  +6/+6 (+9 w/Laser Carbine)
SAVES (F/R/W)       :  +8/+6/+4
ACTION POINTS       :  7
BASE SPEED          :  50ft (30 (base) + 10 (armor) + 10 (class))
NOTES: Fearless, Uncanny Dodge I, Evasion, Energy Resis (sonic/conc): 4/-
       Photon Shield (50% concealment, DC 20 to spot while moving)
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
WEAPON             DMG   Crit  Range  Weight  Size  Type     Notes
Concussion Rod     2d8     20    -     2lbs   med   Bludg    MW (+1 atk)
Laser Carbine**    3d8     20   90ft*  6lbs   lrg   Laser    Mag: Eclip 50
   * Rangefinder Scope Gadget       ** Accuracy: +3 (+2 (inherent) +1 (MW))]

He saw what Elsbeth was doing and quickly made up his mind. He swung the barrel of his rifle tracking her, waiting for the first Q'sa to try and board her vehicle and then he pulled the trigger, watching through his scope as the high caliber round left minute wakes through the air.


[Private to GM:
06:47, Today: Victor Grym rolled 10 using 2d6. Explosive damage.
06:47, Today: Victor Grym rolled 13 using 4d6. Damage.
06:47, Today: Victor Grym rolled 29 using 1d20+10. attack.]

  The wait wasn't long, the Q;sa we're not normally well organized or disciplined but they were fast. the grunts jumped aboard grabbing onto equipment racks, storage bins and two managed to grab the frame of the door into the passenger bay. the first made it up to the doorway before his back exploded under the impact of the high velocity round from Grym's gun. the Q's might have survived the shot but he was definitely out of the fight. thrown to the ground and tumbled across rock and dust as he fell.
   The second Q'sa was greeted with a pulse of focused light as he pulled himself up into the cab, the pulse filling the air with the stink of molten armor and burnt flesh. wounded but still int he fight the Q;sa turned his head toward Elspeth, the small dark too human eyes between the two large compound eyes on the side of his head fixing on her as armored plates and leathery skin peeled back to reveal a mass of mouth parts, and carnivorous teeth as he hissed in anger and reached to unsling his rifle from his back.

OOC:
Q'sa

Grunts: full round action to catch explorer and jump on.
Covering Q'sa. full autofire on Explorer.
Missile Q;sa...drop M-72 prep new ones.

Okay now you got on ein your face Elspeth...
Grym it looks like the Q'sa haven't been able to spot you yet.

He quick sighted the next shot the one reaching for his weapon. He fired his instincts screaming to take the shot before they could harm the marine. "Marine, you better start getting the hell out of there!" He said into his mic, hoping she realized that without any fire from Garrow, that cowardly mech pilot the two of them were out gunned and out numbered.

[Private to GM: 11:54, Today: Victor Grym rolled 4 using 2d6. Explosive damage.
11:54, Today: Victor Grym rolled 14 using 4d6. damage.
11:53, Today: Victor Grym rolled 19 using 1d20+10. Attack. ]

Elsbeth grimaced as the Q'sa was not downed by her laser carbine shot.  However, the good news was that Victor was in fact around and even worried about her potentially. "Thank you, Mr. Grym." she noted flatly into the comm, "I am trying."   Then she focused on the task at hand, her lips cracked into a slight smile as her weight shifted and she stood to meet the rushing Q'sa head on.  Elsbeth felt the rush of adrenaline take a hold of her.  The blood became a rush in her ears as her focus narrowed and her vision started to close in on her opponent.

The laser carbine shifted to Elsbeth's left hand as her right went first to her belt, activating her barrier shield, and then to her thigh holster where the collapsible concussion rod was housed.  As the energy barrier coalesced into its semi-solid form, in a simple, yet effective, flick of the wrist the rod was extended with a snap and brought to bear upon her opponent.
[Private to Prometheus: OOC:
Actions:               Move Action - Engage Q'sa, while shifting carbine
                         to left hand, then activate barrier shield and drawing
                         concussion rod with right.
                       Free Action - Ability Surge (+8 Str, -2 Def, Duration: 3 rounds)
                       Standard action - Attack Q'sa w/concussion rod
                       Free Action - Spend Action point to negate fatigue from Ability Surge
                       Free Action - Talk into comm link
Rolls:
01:39, Today: Elsbeth rolled 14 using 1d20+13. Attack: Concussion Rod.
01:40, Today: Elsbeth rolled 12 using 2d8. Damage (Rod) - if necessary.

Notes:
1)  Well, I guess that is a fumble...  Ugh. No love from the dice.
2)  If allowed, I'll spend an Action Point to improve the roll (you can roll for
    expediency; you definitely cannot roll worse that I have).  Otherwise ... *shrug*

Combat Stats:
VITALITY (max/curr) :  65/65 (105/105 w/barrier shield)
HP (max/curr)       :  29
INIT                :  +2
DEF (hardsuit)      :  +27 ACP: -3  DR: 4 (w/ barrier shield)
                       +25 (w/ current actions: -2 (ability surge)
BAB (Melee/Range)   :  +6/+6 (+9 w/Laser Carbine)
SAVES (F/R/W)       :  +8/+6/+4
ACTION POINTS       :  7 (5 after actions)
BASE SPEED          :  50ft (30 (base) + 10 (armor) + 10 (class))
NOTES: Fearless, Uncanny Dodge I, Evasion, Energy Resis (sonic/conc): 4/-
       Photon Shield (50% concealment, DC 20 to spot while moving)
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
WEAPON             DMG   Crit  Range  Weight  Size  Type     Notes
Concussion Rod     2d8     20    -     2lbs   med   Bludg    MW (+1 atk)
Laser Carbine**    3d8     20   90ft*  6lbs   lrg   Laser    Mag: Eclip 50
   * Rangefinder Scope Gadget       ** Accuracy: +3 (+2 (inherent) +1 (MW))]

  Gryms round slammed into the back of a Q'sa on the rear of the explorer. The blast sending bit of shrapnel whistling through the air around the rest of his squad as he was knocked off the back of the explorer and rolled across the rocky terrain. The Gunners manning the gun pits shifted their fire, raking rocky outcrops and hillsides with blind fire as they tried to find the hidden sniper they now realized was firing on their men.

          Inside the Explorer the Q;sa grun stepped back an instant before the Concussion rod slammed into his head. the force of her swing carrying the rod ina viscous arc to end in the radio controls for the explorer. The force of the blow knocking a fist sized dent in the hull of the armored machine. The Q'sa turned back his emotionless insect eyes giving away no hint of his reaction. but the smaller human looking eyes at the center of his face went wide and he hesitated for a moment before he drew a heavy pistol and fired a quick double tap at Elspeth.

    The rounds deflected off her barrier shield and ricocheted around the interior of the Explorer sounding like angry wasps as they whistled by Elspeth's head.

    As Grym sniped and harassed the Grunts outside and Elspeth and the Q'sa inside traded blows. Tiny began to move, sluggishly, clumsily struggling back to her feet.

Elsbeth grimaced slightly as her swing went wide and left her open for small arms fire.  She mentally chided herself for leaving such an opening.  However, she did not expect the Q'sa to be much of a gun-fu expert.  So, she pulled the concussion rod from the radio with a jerk of her hand, and closed the distance to her enemy.  She minded her footing and knew that the Q'sa would run out of room to retreat soon enough.  Either that, or he would be forced out of the passenger door and onto his fellows - either situation was a win for her, Elsbeth figured.  Elsbeth had seen the smaller set of eyes react to the violence of her first swing, and while the Q'sa were not know for exhibiting fear - she suspected that this one's healthy survival instinct could be used to her advantage.

Elsbeth ignored the ricocheting bullets - if their initial momentum was not enough to penetrate her shield, then they would not be gaining any additional momentum; so, they were not a threat to her.  They were more of a danger to the Q'sa than they were to her- and that again worked to her advantage.

The servos in her armor augmented her adrenaline charged strength, and the same snap of the wrist that pulled the concussion rod free, brought it around for another quick pass at her enemies head.  The motion sensor integrated with her armor had a number of proximity alerts being set off.  Elsbeth knew that these confines could become a death trap.  But for the moment, she was not overwhelmed and the restricted access gave her the advantage since it restricted their numbers and not hers.

So, she concentrated on the opponent in front of her.  The myomar pistons that augmented her legs helped push her forward, keeping her engaged.  She feinted with the carbine her left hand, as the concussion rod cycled and surged forward.  Elsbeth felt in tune with the motion, the rod an extension of her arm and the pitch of the singularity's hum at the tip of the rod went up a notch.
[Private to Prometheus: OOC:
Actions:        Move Action - Free concussion rod from radio/bulkhead.
                       Free Action - Shift with Q'sa
                       Standard action - Attack Q'sa w/concussion rod
Rolls:
23:09, Today: Elsbeth rolled 33 using 1d20+13. Attack: Concussion Rod.
23:09, Today: Elsbeth rolled 23 using 1d20+13. Threat Confirmation - Concussion Rod.
23:10, Today: Elsbeth rolled 12 using 2d8+8. Damage (Concussion Rod).

Notes:
0)  Yay! Finally, something other than a single digit roll on a d20 in combat!  And a
      possible critical!
1)  Ability Surge (+8 Str - current effective strength: 26 (+8)) Duration: 2 more turns
2)  Do I need to make a strength roll to free the concussion rod?  If so, let me know (or
      feel free to do so for me - your luck with the dice roller is likely better than
      mine at this point).
3)  I did not roll extra damage for the concussion rod (let me know if you want me to do
      so - or feel free to do it yourself), as I was not sure about the mechanics for
      criticals (are they extra damage or just a multiplier - in which case, I am sorry I
      rolled so poorly for damage - c'est la vie.)

Combat Stats:
VITALITY (max/curr) :  65/65 (105/105 w/barrier shield)
HP (max/curr)       :  29/29
INIT                :  +2 (17 rolled in first round)
DEF (hardsuit)      :  +27 ACP: -3  DR: 4 (w/ barrier shield)
                       +25 (w/ current actions: -2 (ability surge)
BAB (Melee/Range)   :  +6/+6 (+9 w/Laser Carbine)
SAVES (F/R/W)       :  +8/+6/+4
ACTION POINTS       :  7 (5 after actions)
BASE SPEED          :  50ft (30 (base) + 10 (armor) + 10 (class))
NOTES: Fearless, Uncanny Dodge I, Evasion, Energy Resis (sonic/conc): 4/-
       Photon Shield (50% concealment, DC 20 to spot while moving)
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
WEAPON             DMG   Crit  Range  Weight  Size  Type     Notes
Concussion Rod     2d8     20    -     2lbs   med   Bludg    MW (+1 atk)
Laser Carbine**    3d8     20   90ft*  6lbs   lrg   Laser    Mag: Eclip 49/50
   * Rangefinder Scope Gadget       ** Accuracy: +3 (+2 (inherent) +1 (MW))]

A cold fear raced down his spine as the gunner pits opened in blind fire trying to locate him. The sounds of rounds whizzing by like a thousand angry wasps ready to end his life at a seconds notice. He did not wear the heavy armor and shields the marine did his only advantage was stealth and distance.

He hesitated for a moment, the marine looked like she could use some more cover but the gunners might spot him. He made his decision, she would have to trust to her training and gear a bit longer. The barrel of his rifle shifted aim and centered on a gunner spraying a bit to close for comfort.

He took a breath held it and the squeezed the trigger, another round carrying his deadly intentions towards his target.

[Private to GM: 22:35, Today: Victor Grym rolled 12 using 1d20+10. Attack. ]

 A great many things happened Very quickly as Grym Hunkered down to avoid the wild fire of the Q;sa machine guns. Elspeth did her impression of John Henry on the Q'sa head. and the crow turned southward on the final leg of its out bound Search and Rescue Patrol over the "Great Stone Sea region".

   The Q;sa in the Explorer left a sickly yellow green stain on the wall as it's head rebounded the impact of the singularity drive weapon not only dealing a knock out blow but hurling it into the wall with enough force to crack it's skull.
     Grym's round missed the hunkered down Q'sa machine gunner. but the small round packed an explosive impact. inside the firing pit there was a muffled blast and then a second almost imperceptible pop...pop..poppopopop and tracer rounds began to erupt up out of the pit at random as a metallic sound much like metal popcorn began to fill the air coming from ammo cans stored int eh pit.
    Outside the Q'sa infantry crawling over the explorer dove for cover as an earsplitting chirring, grating whistling sound broke over the sound off gunfire. Two Shoulder fired rockets slammed into the deplorer their shaped charge warheads cutting deep into the vehicles heavy hull and showering everyone near it in shrapnel and tiny pellets of molten copper.
      Tiny began to move jerking upright and spinning to face the south her armor scorched as she turned a fist sized hole in her chest plate leaked smoke and sparks from internal shorts could be seen by Grym " I WILL KILL YOU ALLL!!!!! her voice filled with rage and pain as she turned her attention to a dust cloud coming from the south. she took two steps planted her feet and hunkered down. raising her right arm the multi barrel cannon mounted there spinning up as she faced her enemies.
   Gym had only seconds to realize there was something extremely wrong with the way the Mech was moving and that the voice was the AI's not the pilots. Before rounds began to scream past his head, a tight burst from one of the gunners was directed at hs position not wildly sprayed. in vain.

---

To the north a roar filled the air the sound of thunder rolling across the stony plains an ear splitting scream that sounded as if a giant beast was roaring in anger issued from the heavy Gravitic Assisted Ion Plasma drives of the crow as she burned at full atmospheric power low over the ground to avoid anti aircraft fire.  the sound was no accident, Clever Furesh engineers had worked hard to tune the engines to produce the sound, the air rushing over the ships hull added an eerie nerve jarring shriek to the already deafening roar. until the Crow screamed like a Cesti warrior charging into battle.
    The ship was small by starship standards but it was still larger than a pre-contact 747 and packed the fire power of a WWII naval destroyer in her compact frame.
    The ship came in low enough to kick up a wall of dust behind it. turning on a wingtip after passing over the abandoned camp it swung into a turn that would have broken the back of lesser ships, Cesti were among the best close quarters combat pilots in known space and their ships were designed to handle turns that killed other ships.

as he camp was covered in a blinding wall of dust a second line of dust appeared smaller and coming from land borne craft a dozen human built rovers rolled at top speed toward the camp, each one filled with Q'sa shock troops. among the vehicles four Q'sa built Mecha charged into the fray.

As he hunkered down behind his cover a thousand curses running through his head he looked up at the scream of high powered engines. The Crow? Could it be? Him and Elsebeth might make it out of this yet. He quickly adjusted his radio, hoping they were still using the same frequency as before. "Aziza! This is Grym and I am in a bit of a bind, thank god you guys showed up! There is a Marine down in the base and I am pinned down. A little love from those guns and quick Evac would sure as hell save my ass." He yelled.

He popped his head over cover his rifle sliding up in one single smooth motion as he sighted in at the gunner still firing his way. He quick scoped the shot knowing he would have one chance before he had to duck back down or Tiny got it in her AI head to use something other than that mini-gun. He pulled the trigger not even waiting to see if he landed the shot before ducking back down.


[Private to GM:
22:05, Today: Victor Grym rolled 8 using 2d6. Explosive damage.
22:05, Today: Victor Grym rolled 15 using 4d6. Damage.
22:05, Today: Victor Grym rolled 23 using 1d20+10. Attack. ]

Going over the readouts on her powered armor she runs system diagnostics silently. Granted she performed routine maintenance every day to make absolutely certain she was always combat ready. However it was prudent since they had seen some action lately.

While doing that she also takes the time to keep an eye out on what was going on around her. There was no guarantee they wouldn't be attacked while in transit. For now all was silent leaving her time to wonder what the person would be like when they found her. This place had held more the a few surprises both pleasant and unpleasent.

  I think I'm going to be sick. Balkiir laughed as he hung onto a grab handle by the Crows loading ramp in full armor and packing an assault cannon over his shoulder. as the ramp came down he groaned and laughedas a nearly inverted view of the world presented itself. " Next Time I walk."

    He wasn't that sick to his stomach but it helped to calm the pre-jump adrenaline spikes. Home Guard duty seldom Included combat drops, orbital assaults or high speed low level passes. Which might be why I left home.....gods The Moms would be having a ball right now.Balkiir added thinking out loud.

  " How ya doing Conrad, miss MY driving yet!!!?" Balkiir boomed out laughing as he glanced back to the Tae tech now dressed in proper ass kicking attire.

"Relax everyone, be careful out there. I think the incoming mecha might prove to be the biggest threat. Aziza use the ships weaponry to keep them occupied. Sergeant Grym, if you could keep the crew served weapon wielders from firing at our people that would be good. Balkiir, you're going to see waves upon waves upon waves of Q'sa. Feel free to shoot at them all...you're talents mean you are best going for the masses of infantry. M'Kira, as you pilot Powered Armour, you're going to be a prime target for everyone out there. You'll draw a lot of attention, keep moving and go for the officers you see....like we did on Oneidi Prime. Conrad, I'd no idea what you have up your sleeve, but if you can come up with something to help take the mecha down....or large numbers of the infantry. You all know what we need done. Go do it. Bring yourselves all home safe to me."

Each of the crew is filled with an instinctual idea of what they need to do and how. Everything seems to come together, they can tell which way the enemy is about to move a few seconds just before it is about to happen.



OOC:
15:58, Today: T'risa K'mahda rolled 25 using 1d20+13. Knowledge:Tactics.
Everyone (except Elsbeth) take a +3 to hit for next 4 rounds, if you don't mind T'risa being inside your head a little. Elsbeth, sorry, I need to know you before I can help you out.

Going into combat was nerve wrecking.  No matter how much training received at MIT couldn't even begin to describe the fear he was feeling.  This was the real deal.  Hopefully... he wasn't going to get shot.  Listening to Balkiir laugh only made Conrad feel worse.  Putting his hand on his new rifle, and then checking to make sure his heavy pistol was still attached to his leg.

"I don't miss your driving yet.... nor your damn laugh.  Lets go mow down some lizards and get the hell out of this place!"  Grinning at Balkiir to hopefully hide some of the uneasy feeling.  And to add to the stress, Conrad had to help take out a vast amount of troop and/or the mecha that will be joining soon.

Reaching down to his rifle, he charges the weapon and prepares for whatever may come.

 Aziza puts the crow over on it's back rotating her biggest guns, and thickest armor onto target plasma cannons hammered a line across the desert scything across the advancing Q'sa they were designed to hit ships at thousands of meter moving at velocities approaching hypersonic. unfortunately they were the exact wrong weapon for precision work at one or two miles. they made up with close range precision by packing a massive concussive blast in atmosphere. sand fused to glass and shattered into shrapnel in milliseconds as megawatts of pure energy slammed into the ground moving faster than most rail gun rounds.
     " Please to be exiting quickly, undoubtedly many hidden anti ship batteries are preparing to reduce us all to molten vapor. Aziza urged as she slid the crow in for a near textbook assault landing. [Private to Conrad: Conrad you do have acess to tha mech a we were talking about and balkiir has given you enough training not to break your neck in it. Prometheus]

Getting a great idea, Conrad stashes his rifle in a locker after he disengages it from firing.  Racing through the ship, Conrad hustles to get to the Mecha and gets inside and fires it up.  "Hey Aziza, this is Conrad.  I'm taking the mecha out on its maiden voyage.  Hopefully I can help M'kira take down the approaching mecha.  Take care Aziza."

With that, Conrad continues with the system start up and gets ready to exit the Crow.

[Private to Prometheus: OOC: Prometheus please make any needed attack rolls and damage rolls. With the new mech I don't have the faintest clue what damage I do or any bonus beyond T'risa's +3. Feel free to NPC me as needed to move combat along. I simply can't guarantee I won't slow things down if everyone can post regularly today et.] "Roger that T'risa. To bad I don't have a proper heavily armed and armored fighter to provide air strike support. Course I love my powered armor so I will rock their world regardless." She grins knowing she could take advantage of this for a air drop. Nice touch having a mecha or powered armor that could fly.

She checks the sensor readings to get a feel for the terrain and what cover if there was any she could take advantage of. Fast hard hitting tactics were good when you were outnumbered. Not to mention she wanted to stay out of the way of friendly fire while supporting her companions and pounding the enemy.

She gives Conrad a thumbs up being supportive even though she was a tad worried she might have to babysit him. He was a engineer which meant he was probably a little green when it came to this type of combat. Plus he had never piloted a Mecha before that she knew of. It wouldn't due to let the new kid on the block die in the first battle. She liked his guts and enthusiasm so she wasn't about to put a damper on things by saying anything that might tick him off or make him lose his nerve. Never knew how someone would handle combat till you actually fought by their side. Though combat records could be informative to a point.

If it was possible she chooses her targets carefully possibly even suggesting to Aziza a point to lay down a bit of fire if she was confident a leader was there. (OOC: Take it for granted she tells Aziza as I won't be able to post again until after work at best.)

Jumping out of the ship at the proper time she flies opening fire with her plasma cannon and the other weapon as appropriate. If nothing was in range just yet she takes advantage of whatever cover there might be while moving into position to attack.

Watching M'kira go in front of him made him feel a little easier, but the nerves were still there.  If he could puke, he would.  Taking a deep breathe, Conrad moves the mecha forward and off the ship carefully and enters the battle field.  Keeping on M'kira 5 o'clock and trying not to put a round in her butt, he keeps his aim away and towards the enemy.

OCC: Conrad rolled 10 using 1d20. spot check to see if there any barrels or containers to shoot to cause big boom.

Elsbeth was only dimly aware that there is additional chatter on the secure line.  Since, the verbal exchanges appeared to be cordial and in Terran, she could only assume that they were friendlies and not hostiles on the line.  And since none of them appeared to be addressing her directly,  Than coupled with the fact that she had plenty on her mind - well, more accurately, plenty on her Explorer.  Elsbeth pushed the chatter to the background and focused on the task at hand.

And that means, she glanced out the front windshield to make sure that Explorer was still generally pointed in the direction of the heavy weapons emplacements as Elsbeth kicked what was left of her opponent's body to the side and made ready for the anyone or anything coming in the door.  She tried to move in close to restrict access to more than one Q'sa at a time.  She could only hope that the larger equipment would not sacrifice the grunts on the Explorer, but Elsbeth knew deep down inside that she couldn't count on that fact.  Still, it would be fine, if in taking her out much of the foot infantry was also killed.  So, she readied herself to repel any boarders.  Elsbeth chose a location that was close enough to be able to engage any Q'sa entering directly in hand-to-hand; her experience so far had been that most, if not all, of the low-level grunts would not be trained in close quarters use of their firearms.  As such, she and her trusty concussion rod would have more of advantage, if she worked it right.

[Private to Prometheus: OOC:
Actions:
First Round Actions :  Move Action: move to cover largest/most likely entrance of the Explorer
                       Standard Action: Held - attack first Q'sa to try and enter
Rolls:

Notes:
Not sure what to roll here - so, I will let you do it, or tell me what needs to be done.

Combat Stats:
VITALITY (max/curr) :  65/65 (105/105 w/barrier shield)
HP (max/curr)       :  29
INIT                :  +2 (17 rolled first round)
DEF (hardsuit)      :  +27 ACP: -3  DR: 4 (w/ barrier shield)
BAB (Melee/Range)   :  +6/+6 (+9 w/Laser Carbine)
SAVES (F/R/W)       :  +8/+6/+4
ACTION POINTS       :  7
BASE SPEED          :  50ft (30 (base) + 10 (armor) + 10 (class))
NOTES: Fearless, Uncanny Dodge I, Evasion, Energy Resis (sonic/conc): 4/-
       Photon Shield (50% concealment, DC 20 to spot while moving)
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
WEAPON             DMG   Crit  Range  Weight  Size  Type     Notes
Concussion Rod     2d8     20    -     2lbs   med   Bludg    MW (+1 atk)
Laser Carbine**    3d8     20   90ft*  6lbs   lrg   Laser    Mag: Eclip 50
   * Rangefinder Scope Gadget       ** Accuracy: +3 (+2 (inherent) +1 (MW))]
[Private to T'risa K'mahda: OOC: No worries about not being able to mind link.  It is perfectly understandable given the circumstances.  Besides, I suspect that the others will be better served with the bonus for the time being.  I am just picking Q'sa off one at time.  It is very slow going...:)]

  The battlefield exploded into action Literally, the ground reverberated under the guns of the Crow. several vehicles exploding in a wash of plasma and shattered rock reduced to shards of metal and charred flesh in an instant.
   Grym rolled into the line of fire several bullets tugging at his Ghille suit, as they screamed past him. the round he fired taking a Q'sa gunner in the shoulder, spinning him around and down into the firing pit he crouched in. the low earth wall of the firing pit no good against a firer from the hilltop.
     Almost as if on Cue the first Q'sa grunt poked his head in the door as the explorer ground to a halt, the sound of the engines rattling and grinding not a good one. the Q'sa met the gravity enhanced weapons head with his face. the blow not lethal but painful and the force of the impact enough to dislodge him and send him out the door onto the ground.

     The crow swung in low and fast thrusting hard to break to a safe landing speed from the dust kicked up by it's approach and artillery barrage tracers reached up to sweep across her armor and shields.  the small arms round no real threat to anything but the paint. the next salvo was not so harmless. rockets arced up put of the smoke and dust. compact seeker weapons tracking her heat signature and boring home to explode with a heavy blast and spray of shrapnel that the three exiting the craft barely managed to escape.
     M'kira came out of the hold firing the thump of a heavy plasma gun sounding like a jack hammer as she dove on the enemies. the drives on her armor powering her along faster than the vehicles she faced. Her first shots catching one of the enemy mechs head on through the dust and smoke.
      Conrad hot on her tail managed to keep pace, his suit rocking and wobbling slightly and his weapons silent but for his first time out of the gate he managed to keep pace with he veteran pilot.
       Not to be left behind Balkiir jumped free, his jump pack slowing his fall until he landed on a low crouch bringing his machine gun up and searching for targets. hosing down the explorer with a sleet of projectiles as it was the closest concentration of enemy he could see through the smoke and dust. his rounds struck home as he swept the hull of the explorer clear of Q'sa. the ones who were hit diving for cover the others turning to fire on their unexpected attacker. their return fire as accurate as Balkiir's hitting the big marine twice in rapid succession.

Keeping close to M'kira, Conrad keeps a steady grip on his controls.  Closing in on the enemy, Conrad keeps his fingers on the triggers but holds on firing to avoid hitting M'kira.  At all times, Conrad keeps himself around 15 to 20 feet behind M'kira and makes mental notes about her piloting and tries to copy as much as possible without over doing it.

After a few moments of real world piloting experience, Conrad lets loose a few rounds from the plasma rifle at any approaching enemies but keeps his firing rate controlled until he has more experience with the Mecha.

M'kira bobs and weaves taking advantage of whatever cover the field of battle provides. Considering she could fly she takes advantage of that as well noting where the missiles had come from. Her primary mission was to take down any officers she could find. However any collateral damage she did along the way was just fine.

She assess what on the field is the greatest threat to herself and her companions if possible. Then selects her target. M'kira had no intention of letting the Q'sa overwhelm her friends and that meant keeping them from getting organized.  "Back me up but I suggest you take cover and not follow me into this storm it's going to get ugly. Fire at will Conrad!"

M''kira smiles warmly at him with a calm expression her honey hewed eyes sparkling with life as she does one of the thigns she does best. Taking advantage of her natural Valkir abilities to see a few seconds ahead in a combat situation she seems almost to dance as she briefly flies into a group of Q'sa.

Deliberately zigging and zaggin in such a way as to cause them to shoot each other if at all possible. Using her plasma cannon she opens up preferably into a officer in a battle mech or not. Using full auto or more controlled bursts depending on what was appropriate. Also knowing that whatever missed might have a chance of hitting other grouped enemies. Then flits amongst them only as long as absolutely needed before taking cover again. Possibly at the explorer or a rock outcropping whatever was available.

Piloting to avoid getting hit/trick them into shooting each other. Natural 20 total 38.  Shoot target/mech/officer? To hit =27 Damage =43

[Private to Prometheus: OOC: IM not sure how long it will take to pull it off. Basically she wants to take down a officer or whatever appears to be most dangerous while Looking for a said officere. And with any luck cause sow a little chaos as they shoot each other trying to get her. Personally I know it's not a great idea to make yourself a available target any longer then needed so im happy to find cover ASAP depending on what sort of story you want to weave. ^_^]

When the explorer ground to a halt, Elsbeth knew that it was time to get off the ride.  She figured that it has done its job and had protected her pretty well for as long as it did.  That and it had held out until reinforcements (ironically, on both sides) had arrived.  So, Elsbeth glanced out the front view ports, noting that she was not that far from the heavy weapons emplacements.  Elsbeth duly noted that she felt slightly underdressed - apparently she had only brought powered armor to a mecha fight.  Silly little girl.  She nodded grimly as she contemplated her options and then made a decision.

With the Q'sa getting ready to pile in, Elsbeth waited until the entryway was full of Q'sa (the more the merrier, she figured) and she made a bull rush at the entryway to break free.  She dipped her shoulder and pushed herself forward.  The initial adrenaline rush was over, but Elsbeth focused her energy to stay alert and ready.   The servo-enhanced myomar fibers of her hardsuit drove her armored frame forward.  And at the last moment, her jump jets fired and she burst through the doorway hoping to take (or is that make) as many Q'sa airborne with her as possible.

Elsbeth figured that once she was free of the vehicle, she would charge one of the emplacements.  At the very least, she would be in a fox hole and one of the enemies heavy weapons would be gone.  And at best, she'd be better armed and could start targeting other enemy assets (starting with the other emplacements) for elimination.
[Private to Prometheus: OOC:
Actions:
First Round Actions :  Free Action: Glance outside
                       Full Round Action: Wait for as large a gaggle of Q'sa as possible
                                          and then charge and bull rush them through the door.
Rolls:
00:24, Today: Elsbeth rolled 25 using 1d20+10. To Hit, Charge +4 Str,+4 BAB, +Charge.
00:25, Today: Elsbeth rolled 5 using 1d20+4. Bull Rush, Str Check.
00:25, Today: Elsbeth rolled 5 using 1d6. Action Point.

Notes:
1)  If allowed, Elsbeth will start moving towards the nearest heavy weapons emplacement.
2)  Carbine is still in left hand, Concussion rod in her right.
3)  Both barrier shield and photon shields are active.
4)  Not sure what, if any, added effect the jumpjets will give to her bull rush
5)  Elsbeth will spend an action point on the Strength Check for the bull rush
6)  I appear to be rolling an inordinate number of ones - bad ju-ju...
        perhaps Elsbeth is fated to die. :(

Combat Stats:
VITALITY (max/curr) :  65/65 (105/105 w/barrier shield (not currently active))
HP (max/curr)       :  29
INIT                :  +2
DEF (hardsuit)      :  +25 ACP: -3  DR: 4 (w/ barrier shield)
BAB (Melee/Range)   :  +6/+6 (+9 w/Laser Carbine, +9 w/Concussion Rod)
SAVES (F/R/W)       :  +8/+6/+4
ACTION POINTS       :  4
BASE SPEED          :  50ft (30 (base) + 10 (armor) + 10 (class))
NOTES: Fearless, Uncanny Dodge I, Evasion, Energy Resis (sonic/conc): 4/-
       Photon Shield (50% concealment, DC 20 to spot while moving)
       (-2 DEF due to charge)
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
WEAPON             DMG   Crit  Range  Weight  Size  Type     Notes
Concussion Rod     2d8     20    -     2lbs   med   Bludg    MW (+1 atk)
Laser Carbine**    3d8     20   90ft*  6lbs   lrg   Laser    Mag: Eclip 50
   * Rangefinder Scope Gadget       ** Accuracy: +3 (+2 (inherent) +1 (MW))]

  " Bronco Hotel 229 Tango November 405 dash 21 Yankee , call sign Tiny. I am requesting immediate dust off, My Pilot is unconscious and severely injured. Tiny spoke over the radio as she snapped out of her rage, she realized she was firing at anything that moved.
          The sight of a ship firing on the Q'sa and Mech Making a hot drop made her fall into old habit. She fired her thrusters and fell into formation as the two streaked past. " free flight systems damaged, my cockpit is breached, and I am restricted to low level flight...

           As Tiny fell in formation she raised her left arm Bringing the Mini gun to bear on the Q'sa rovers. a short tight burst aimed at the driver would be enough to take the vehicle out of the fight. Her right arm came up as well firing her chain gun into the lead enemy mech. No one but her and Garrow could her her talking to him as she attack.
      Hold on Garrow, hold on, I'm getting you out of here,and I'm killing everyone of these bastards I can doing it.

A cold smile spread across his lips, this was what he had lived for for so long. The fight and now with both sides fully engaged he was free to do what he did best. He watched Elesbeth through his scope making sure she reached cover. He scanned the battlefield looking for his next target, either in front of the running marine or behind her to negate any threats she herself could not immediately deal with.

"Elsbeth, if you follow the ridge towards the north, I can cover you and we can link up for a dust off. Seems like the party is getting a bit big for us grunt types."

[Private to GM:
15:42, Today: Victor Grym rolled 9 using 2d6. Explosive damage.
15:42, Today: Victor Grym rolled 17 using 4d6. Damage.
15:41, Today: Victor Grym rolled 15 using 1d20+10. Attack.]

  Balkiir grunted as the rounds hit his armor, they didn't penetrate but he would have a couple of nice bruises and some burns from the heat to show off. he had scattered the Q'sa a little giving the marine a chance to break for better cover. Now he was planning to deal some serious hurt to the Bug Lizards. he tucked the Squad automatic to his shoulder and sighted it, using it like an assault rifle. He aimed a tight three round burst at the Q'sa grunt that had the poor idea to actually shoot him

Doing his best not to get hit, Conrad keeps the mecha on the move dodging whatever fire came his way.  Controlling the mecha was still new to him.  Trying to keep up with M'kira was still a big challenge but he did his best.  Though the closer they got to combat, Conrad found some sort of shelter while taking aim at whatever came close to him.  Though most of the rounds fired where mostly spray and pray.  When Conrad had a chance, Conrad make sure that M'kira six was covered and no enemy was trying a sneak attack.

   The battle becomes a confused swirl of movement led by M'kira the teams mechs cut into a tight weaving dance through the enemy positions, their light weapons spewing arc welder bright bolts of plasma and blood red tracers into their ranks scattering them.
    Trailing behind M'kira Conrad and Tiny are no match for psionics boosted battle hardened and inborn talent. M'kira's piloting of the mech leaving them struggling to keep up. twisting mid leap, vaulting vehicles, hitting the ground and running for short sprints before bolting back into the air, as she moves. following her lead The three Mecha are hard targets as M'kira leads them into firing position on the four enemy mecha.
    In an instant the fight gets heavy, Four ugly rust brown and black mecha, built to non human proportions. huge slump shouldered bodies that had welts and bulges of armor covering their neck and shoulder, a single compound eye at the center of their helmets break out of the smoke. Their chain guns chattering and thumping as they open fire.  tracers streaking past M'kira and tiny there fire seemingly drawn to the military insignia on their mecha's hulls. Several rounds slam into both mecha, exploding in a shower of sparks and puff of smoke doing little to the heavily armed mechs but knocking fist sized dents in their armor.

 as the mechs exchange gunfire Elspeth hurls herself into a not of Q;sa. the powerful armor moving with surprising speed as she slams into a mass of reptilian fury. Punches kicks, and rifle butt strokes are exchanged as she fight with them. hands clawing at her helmet, and arms dragging her backward as she tries to escape. light built and wiry, compared to the brute who she had fought the first skirmish with the Q'sa numbers press down on her as half a dozen soldiers claw at her.
    Myomer fibers strain servos growl angrily as she struggles to free herself. as she begins to stumble and falter her jets kick in Hurling her into the air carrying one of the Q"sa with her to the top of her arc dropping the hissing spitting solder to the ground as she drops back to earth dashing for the nearest foxhole.

     Over the din of gunfire, howling thrusters and shrieking plasma bolts no one hears a single gunshot from a hillside. removed from the chaos, gunfire and mayhem of a pitched gun battle no one sees the nearly unmoving, form draped in tatter of torn cloth grass, and brush. or the long heavy barrel of his weapon moving ever so slightly as he picks his target takes a slow steady breath and fires. non notices but the Q'sa trooper he pitches and spins the armor piercing shaped charge slicing though his armor like tissue paper. Blood bit's of bone and exoskeleton spattering his squad mates as he falls in a boneless heap in front of them.
    Any species that gains the technology to build precision range weapons has a word in their vocabulary that strikes fear into the heart of infantry. more feared than machine guns, more feared than artillery, dreaded above orbital bombardment. Those were random, unpredictable impersonal means to an end. But no matter what the language the word for sniper always evokes a deep dread unmatched by any other form of attack.
     The cold, calculated act of lining up the cross hairs on a living being, slowly methodically plotting it's death then without hesitation or regret pulling the trigger and watching the effect through a scope from a mile away, striking an almost universal chord in any species who had the ability to train them..

      As the Grunt falls to the ground the teams mecha get their shot. Two plasma cannons shreak and thud as they fire. hurling superheated bolts of ionized gas at their targets, Tiny's Chain gun Thuds mechanically chugging loudly as it spits 25mm high explosive rounds into the targets. all three of the teams mechs land glancing blows on the enemy the shells and bolts splashing off their armor, until M'kira realigns her sights, an itch at the base of her skull causes her to hesitate for an instant, waiting for the target to move a half step to the left to clear the shadow of it's squad mate. then as if on a string it stepped into her sights, her slim finger pressing the trigger without conscious thought the hum and shriek of megawatts of pent up energy being released hitting a note she had heard before, a perfect release, maximum output from the weapon.
     an odd sense of Deja Vu overwhelms M'kira for as second, she ses, and remembers at the same time the bolt of plasma hit the Q'sa dead on as it turned to fire on her. almost the exact same shot she had fired years before on a drop to relieve an Imperial Intelligence, team a Mech lining up to fire on a fleeing group of women, the same slight twist and then...
  The Q'sa mechs cockpit unfolded front the inside the plasma bolt burrowing through the armor and into the pilot inside. the round slicing into the slender crack in the armor that formed the edge of the entry hatch. there was no way to target a gap 2mm across only sheer luck could land a shot on such a small moving target. Plasma burned through thin metal and environmental seals, filled the cockpit and exploded the Q'sa into a red charred paste on the interior of his view screen.

OOC:
Next round
congrats M'kira a confirmed critical hit and one shot kill through the armor :D
Elspeth: Your jump jets saved your butt.
Aziza, you now ready for another attack run or you can stand off and lob artillery and missiles into he fight

M'kira was focused her expression one of concentration a her supple lips curved in a faint lovely smile. Being a Valkir this battle was as natural as breathing. Following her instincts she has a look of satisfaction as the enemy mech goes down. One less enemy to try and kill her friends they were that much safer.

"Hey Balkir think you can pull off a one shot one kill too? Looks like our sides got the touch today! If the Q'sa aren't shaking in their armor yet I don't know what will do the trick!"

She hadn't missed Elspeth's  spectacular rocket pack jump out of a cluster of Q'sa. It was a interesting sight and she felt the woman could use some help. "Hey someone want to give the rocket pack goundpunds some support fire? IM going to try to clear the way for the emergency request for dust off. Roger that Tiny I will try to help clear a path for you. Maybe pick up a passager while im at it."

Her preference was to take down any remaining mechs or heavy weapon implacements that were the most threat to her people, the ones they wanted to rescue and of course the crow. "Feel free to provide air support Aziza. A bit of heavy fire power might go a long way to clear the way."

She still kept in mind primary targets were officers. If she picks up on anyone trying to rally the Q'sa forces they wouldn't be long for this world. If possible she would fed any intel she could to Aziza that she didn't pick up with her own sensors. Ground troops sometimes lit up targets for air strikes.

She does her best to clear the way for Tiny wanting to get the damaged battle mech to the safety of the Crow as soon as possible. Depending on the logistics of it she might also links up with Elspeth offering her a ride. However if she was going to make it to the fox hole and do good things maybe it was best to let her blow a few things up before getting her out of there.

Pilot: 23 Attack roll total 12  Not much help this round. good luck tiny.

Trying to help M'kira from a distance was hard, especially trying not to hit her.  Conrad kept working his way closer to her to help in whatever way his could.  Dodging incoming fire and making use of anything as a shield was the only thing Conrad could do trying not to get himself killed.

Still not very proficient with the mecha, most of Conrads shots were still being sprayed all over.  From a tactical stand point, it was good for pushing the enemy back, but for Conrad there was a lot to take on at once and no time to really focus on one.

"M'kira, I'm slowly making progress towards you.  I'm banking you will take everyone out before I make it there at this snails pace."

OOC:19:58, Today: Conrad rolled 14 using 1d20+8. Attack.
    19:58, Today: Conrad rolled 21 using 3d10. damage.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:00, Tue 20 July 2010.

He watches with satisfaction as his shot strikes home disrupting that particular squad of enemies. He was quickly back to business though as he sighted down the rifle his cross hairs seeking another victim. It was time to start searching for the leaders. He scanned the battlefield, no one jumping out at him as an obvious leader and that didn't make sense, they were to well organized to not have someone calling the shots. He checked that off and moved on towards the next item on his list, enemy heavies. He scoped in one on approaching the rookie, well he flew like a rookie, and took the shot hoping to buy the kid a chance to get out of harm's way.
[Private to GM: 21:32, Today: Victor Grym rolled 11 using 2d6. Explosive damage.
21:32, Today: Victor Grym rolled 14 using 4d6. damage.
21:32, Today: Victor Grym rolled 29 using 1d20+10. attack. ]
This message was last edited by the player at 08:41, Tue 27 July 2010.

Elsbeth knew that she had barely gotten away and that the others were in hot pursuit.  The letdown from her adrenaline surge was not kind to her, and must have affected her performance more than she would have liked.  And, while she would have liked to moment, to compose herself, it was not really an option.  As such, Elsbeth hurled her armored body into the nearest foxhole.  Unfortunately, it was not unoccupied, nor was it recently cleared by Victor's selective (and highly deadly) fire.  As such, Elsbeth was required to clear it for herself.  Nothing to be done about it; so, Elsbeth set about trying to do her job.  And so, concussion rod in hand, she charged headlong into towards the embankment.  With any luck, she would be able to remove one set of heavy weapons from the enemies hands, and with a little more luck, put them in her hands.

So, on the servo actuated pistons and myomar fibers moved at break neck speed.  If there was one thing that Elsbeth was, it was fleet of foot.  Even in full armor and dodging, she could cover more ground than most professional sprinters going flat out.  And so, closing the tens of meters to the foxhole was child's play.  As she approached the foxhole, Elsbeth took stock of the occupants and lept in; trusting her barrier shield to continue to hold and whacking away with her own personal, pocket sized singularity.  At the very least, she figured that she could ensure that the heavy weapons crew in this foxhole would not be able to concentrate on anything but the Really Pissed^TM Colonial Marine flailing away next to them.
[Private to Prometheus: OOC:
Actions:
First Round Actions :  Move Action:  Move into/through Foxhole (Should be able to cover at least 50ft/17m)
                       Free Action:  Survey Foxhole and Choose Target
                       Standard Action:  Whack away at the nearest Q'sa target
Rolls:
00:52, Today: Elsbeth rolled 11 using 1d20+9. Attack: Concussion Rod.
00:52, Today: Elsbeth rolled 7 using 2d8+4. Damage (Concussion Rod) - if necessary.
00:55, Today: Elsbeth rolled 21 using 1d20+9. Jump/Str Check: +2 MW jumpjets: as req'd.

Notes:
1)  'Flailing away' is the operative phrase.  Not much love from the dice today (as with most days ... :))
2)  I'd spend an action point to boost the hit chance, but with that damage it is hardly worth it.

Combat Stats:
VITALITY (max/curr) :  65/65 (105/105 w/barrier shield (currently active))
HP (max/curr)       :  29
INIT                :  +2
DEF (hardsuit)      :  +27 ACP: -3  DR: 4 (w/ barrier shield)
BAB (Melee/Range)   :  +6/+6 (+9 w/Laser Carbine, +9 w/Concussion Rod)
SAVES (F/R/W)       :  +8/+6/+4
ACTION POINTS       :  4
BASE SPEED          :  50ft (30 (base) + 10 (armor) + 10 (class))
NOTES: Fearless, Uncanny Dodge I, Evasion, Energy Resis (sonic/conc): 4/-
       Photon Shield (50% concealment, DC 20 to spot while moving)
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
WEAPON             DMG   Crit  Range  Weight  Size  Type     Notes
Concussion Rod     2d8     20    -     2lbs   med   Bludg    MW (+1 atk)
Laser Carbine**    3d8     20   90ft*  6lbs   lrg   Laser    Mag: Eclip 49/50
   * Rangefinder Scope Gadget       ** Accuracy: +3 (+2 (inherent) +1 (MW))]

   Tiny moved to assist the less experienced pilot, the lead Mecha moved like they knew what they were doing.  and knew what the enemy was doing. Only one type of pilot moved before an enemy fired a round. The other pilot had to be a rookie, and his Mecha was some type she'd never seen before. nothing in the book looked like it. Tiny knew in her core there was no way any pilot would drop into this fight to pick up one man. It was suicide until the Q'sa mechs were scrapped.
    Things were simple when she had John at the controls, he made the plan picked the target she helped him pull it off. Her, mind was full of things now, making decisions, trying to figure out what to do next. johns condition monitor wouldn't go away she couldnt force herself to push it to the side and concentrate on the fight.and something deep down in her code was boiling, filling her with something she never felt before it made her want to scream obscenities, and kill anything that got near her. Especially if it had bug eyes and a gun.

    " Searching for communications frequencies Tiny snapped angrily her job pushing itself back to the front of her core. Link for overhead feed, she carried three whispers, recon drones to get a birds eye view of the battle field. the pods ejected from their carriers rocketing skyward splitting open to drop three metal wasps each one spiraling out on a separate path.
    She brought her guns online tracking the lead buglizard mecha, fired her thrusters to get a clean shot and fired a tight three round burst.

OOC:

Move action: Deploy Drones and activate data link to Conrad M'kira and Aziza.
Drones were unable to gather any useful data this round...failed thier aid other roll damn it.
Attack: Enemy mecha:
09:03, Today: Prometheus, on behalf of Tiny, rolled 8 using 1d20+3. Drones aid other roll.
08:57, Today: Prometheus, on behalf of Tiny, rolled 34 using 9d6. damage roll.
08:50, Today: Prometheus, on behalf of Tiny, rolled 27 using 1d20+8. to hit. ( 1 away)

[Private to Victor Grym: something is odd, you know how to spot commanders on the field...your not seeing any. the Q'sa simply start acting as a group with none of them giving orders.]
[Private to M'kira T'shal: something is odd here, you cant spot any leaders the Q;sa are simply acting no one seems to be giving orders but they are exteremely orginized...which by the regs shouldnt be the case Q'sa are usualy swarm fighters who simply come at you in a crushing wave, with their leaders shouting and waving their arms about to try and keep them under control]

   Balkiir caught the marines movement, she was jumping into a bug nest and looked like she was having problems. She had a way with an big stick that was for sure. and her armor was heavy enough to soak up anything that the bug lizards could throw at her.
   In fact she could probably soak up anything he could throw at her as well. The hostile couldn't. really hurt her but up close they might swarm her. Q'sa were good at that. and he had to give her points, she didn't seem to mind a dance with the devil.
    " Ah hell always wanted to do this. Balkiir smirked. Hit his jump pack and vaulted skyward letting his SAW fall on it's shoulder strap and stripping his ax from it's clips.

    Both hands on his ax Balkiir aimed for the Q'sa who was in the fighting pit with the marine. The axes own inertia amplifier powering up as it built up a charge to put the hurt on the Q'sa in the pit.

OOC
09:37, Today: Prometheus, on behalf of Balkiir Kovul, rolled 13 using 1d12+4. power axe damage.
09:33, Today: Prometheus, on behalf of Balkiir Kovul, rolled 24 using 1d20+9. death from above :D.

"T'risa and of course everyone else listening in on this channel. Something really off here as in wrong... Q'sa are swarm fighters and officers are usually pretty easy to spot. They tend to have to shout a lot and even wave their arms in a effort to keep control and focus their troops. In this case theirs absolutely no sign of that at all. They are also extremely well organized which is unnatural to their fighting tactics."

If I had a guess I would say possible culprits is that mind control with love enemy that made everyone go berserk back at the compound. Though I am not sure as they are organized so this is a little more sophisticated then just you love me go kill my enemy since they would probably do the usual swarm fighting. We could always do a autopsy on one looking for control chips in the brain, drugs and whatnot. A live one would be needed so T'risa could get a look and see what she can find. If you folks we are trying to help out can hear this and you have any input feel free to volunteer the intel."

For now M'kira tries to continue to help clear a path for Tiny dancing and weaving amoungst the troops. She targets battle mechs or heavy weapons emplacements. Of course not the one where Eslspeth and Balkir were. They didn't need frindly fire making their life hard. Of course if the biggest threat to Tiny appears to be groundpounders she could always do that.

If it appears that tiny was fine she would consider other options such as helping certain Marines evac the battle field. Far as she knew this was a rescue mission get in get out. Though she wouldn't have a problem with it if the battle plan changes.

[Private to Prometheus: OOC: I left my post open with different options depending on what's going on. You can roll for M'kira's attack/damage if needed. I mostly wanted to get a post in to pass on the information she picked up from her observation. ^_^]

"Hmph.  I am not being sure how this knowledge helps right now." Aziza grumbles.  "Perhaps in unlikely event we are being survive, we are being able to investigate breaking mind control love attack.  For now I am being prepare to fire all weapons while ship is being functional enough to still do so."
The crack of Aziza's Kinetic Missiles and Mass cannons dwarf the sounds of the infantry weapons in the battle as she sends a torrent of projectiles, projectiles which unfortunately miss as Aziza is forced to dodge an incoming blast.  Still it forces many enemies to take cover behind a nearby hill, and then she unleashes the plasma cannons to devastating effect, and the sides of the hill begin to run with molten metal and stone as a burst as hot as the core of a small star explodes above it.

09:09, Today: Aziza rolled 76,73 using 14d9,14d8. Plasma Damage.
09:07, Today: Aziza rolled 8 using 1d20-1. Mass Cannon.
09:07, Today: Aziza rolled 1 using 1d20-3. KE Missile.
09:07, Today: Aziza rolled 2 using 1d20-3. KE Missile.
09:06, Today: Aziza rolled 5 using 1d20-1. plasma cannon.
09:06, Today: Aziza rolled 16 using 1d20-1. plasma cannon.

    The battle became a confused swirl of ground troops and mechs as the infantry that survived the initial assault by the Mecha and Crow reached the area around the wrecked Explorer.
     Conrad Maneuvers into position first, hosing down a cluster of infantry with his plasma gun, several are wounded by the spray of bolts, the rest seek cover behind a smoldering rover left laying on it's roof after the cross first salvo tossed it into the air.
    M'kira Moving fast and hard manages to get to the far side of the Q'sa Mecha firing into the lead Machine her aim is off slightly but as she touches the firing stud she feels the presence of T'risa a quiet whisper in the back of her mind. the moment of hesitation is to her advantage the bolt from her shoulder mounted cannon strikes the Mecha a solid blow spinning it about as a liter of condensed super heated gas slams into it's shoulder and detonates with the force of a kilo of dynamite.
    The trailing Q'sa fires wide of anyone it's chain gun sending up puffs of dust and shards of rock as it sends half it's rounds into the ground and the rest streaking off into the hills. The last Mecha fires at the same instant as tiny, their rounds passing one another in flight. The Q'sa Mech takes heavy damage hitting the ground, tumbling for a moment then managing to catch itself and return to a kneeling position.
    Tiny has no such luck. as the tracers bore in on her she barely has time to turn her damaged cockpit away form the 25mm rounds as they begin to stitch a line across her thruster pack and finally punching though to the fuel cells for the flight packs. the explosion of her fuel cell is bone jarring, a fireball engulfs her chassis and send the crippled Mecha tumbling across the plain to rest in a heap of smoking metal and burning fuel. one arm completely destroyed her flight pack a mass of twisted metal. a low warbling bleat sounding on the radio frequencies. The disaster beacon of a mecha triggered when all internal systems have crashed.

     As the mechs duel a silent figure on the hill moves again. If he had been noticed in the brawl he was forgotten as rounds streak past the heads of combatants. forgotten by all but one bold Q'sa who raised his hand to rally his squad. He had no chance to forget as his head exploded under the impact of Victors heavy round. His squad finding cover behind rocks and in shell craters blasted by the crow.

           Elspeth reached the gun pit, dropping easily into it. The Machine gunner looking up in shock as he faced a heavily armored marine at knife fighting range. without a knife in his hand to fight back with he dodges desperately form one side of the pit to the other trying to avoid wild sledgehammer strong sweeps of the concussion rod the inertial amplifier screeching angrily as the marine tries to catch the dodging Q'sa with a strike.
    As the Q'sa backpedals away he reaches for his side arm in desperation. Elspeth nearly cleaning his clock as he fell backwards bringing his plasma pistol up. at point blank range he couldn't miss. However against the heavy armor and barrier shields the pistol only created a brilliant light show as it hit the shields detonated then splashed harmlessly of the heavy armors thick chest plate.
      Both combatants were caught off guard by Balkiir's arrival the howling Valkiir marine landed heavily his power ax matching the scream of Elspeth's concussion rod as it caught the Q'sa across the shoulder armor driving him to the ground under the Big mans blow and both feet of a nearly 7ft tall giant of a man landing hard at 20 miles an hour.

     There was no time for introductions as the battle filed rocked under man... cesti made thunder. The impact of the ships full arsenal unleashing the spirits of chaos and fire in all directions. anyone caught in the open or outside an armored vehicle felt the impact of multiple concussions as missiles hurled fifty Kilo depleted uranium projectiles into the ground at seven times the speed of sound.
   The ships mass cannon spat another 75 kilo round at even higher velocities. reducing a small rock outcropping to nothing but dust and fist sized gravel flying across the battle field as if some giant had hurled a basket of boulders from the heavens.
   It was impossible to see in the dust and smoke left by the blasts, gunfire stopped instantly as anyone not injured by the blasts shrapnel found a place to hide as the ships guns unleashed hell.
  As the smoke cleared the Q'sa were in retreat, even the unshakable resolve of the aliens having a breaking point.. half their mechs now burning wreckage, enemy mecha slaughtering the infantry and now repeated artillery barrages they had no way to retaliate against or stop overwhelming their blood lust.
   Officer Shouted, waved, curse and fired at retreating grunts. for the first time their normal nature showing itself in the fight. the unnatural coordination and courage they had shown moments before now shattered beyond recover.

Bronco Hotel.... 2..29 _{Tango Nov}ember 405.... Immediate <static>, pilot critical.....Please someone!!!!   Tiny tried to stand up, her legs buckled one failing completely as her power began to fail. nothing was working her read outs were a mix of reds, yellows and dead indicators.

The sheer brutality of the salvo released by the Crow was amazing. Even from his removed position he felt the blasts and shock waves of rounds meant for space combat. He cycled through the sight modes on the scope looking for something that would allow him to penetrate the dust haze covering the battlefield. He smiled as the dust cleared, officers were making themselves all to easy of targets as the attempted to regain control of their troops. He did a mental count he should have two rounds left in this magazine. Two parting gifts for their bug eyed friends who didn't want to play anymore.

He once again shouldered the rifle and began to meticulously adjust his aim at an officer in the back of the group. He waited til his breathing was right and then pulled the trigger.
[Private to GM:

14:18, Today: Victor Grym rolled 12 using 2d6. Explosive damage.
14:18, Today: Victor Grym rolled 16 using 4d6. Damage.
14:17, Today: Victor Grym rolled 13 using 1d20+10. Attack.
14:20, Today: Victor Grym rolled 5 using 1d6. Action Point For Attack.
Total Attack 18]
This message was last edited by the player at 19:20, Tue 27 July 2010.

Elsbeth noted the incoming Balkiir as proximity alert on her HUD from the motion sensor.  Given the speed and motion of the object, she took one last swipe at her Q'sa opponent, watched as the plasma bolt from her opponent's pistol brushed off of her shimmering shield, not even touching her armor, and then back pedalled two steps entering a crouch with her back against the wall of the pit.  She watched with satisfaction as something finally made contact with her opponent, even if it was not her concussion rod.

From the markings on the combat armor of the large man that had just joined her in the foxhole, Elsbeth made him to also be a member of the Colonial Services.  He did not seem to be wearing powered armor, which meant that he was more naked than she was on this battlefield.  A slight smile crossed her face and she opened her mouth the say something,  but then all Hell broke loose.  It was then that Elsbeth was glad that her head was lower than the lip of the foxhole and her back was braced - Balkiir's timely arrival had fortuitously made her duck.  When the explosions started and the sky filled with color and then dust, Elsbeth marvelled for a brief moment at the terrible and wicked display of destruction.  Even with (or perhaps because) of the massive attenuation by the atmosphere, the energy from the beam weapons was palpable, creating rippling shockwaves that buffeted everything along the way.  Elsbeth watched the first two of them roll by.

Elsbeth's motion sensor display overloaded for a moment, filling a portion of her HUD display with an angry flashing red alarm for a moment, before it resettled into a more quiet mode - one where it was recovering and started to filter out the flying debris more effectively again - where the scattering motion from the Q'sa troops became readily apparent.

Through the rain of dust and dirt, Elsbeth launched herself once more against her opponent in the pit.  While, it almost didn't seems sporting to have the two of them against the one lone Q'sa, the operative word was almost.  Since the large man had come from above, Elsbeth remained low, launching herself and leading with the concussion rod, thrusting the harnessed singularity towards the Q'sa's legs and knees.  A low growl escaped her lips...
[Private to Prometheus: OOC:
Actions:
First Round Actions :  Move Action:  Close with Q'sa (if not already there)
                       Standard Action:  Whack away at the injured, cornered, lonely Q'sa in the foxhole with us.
Rolls:
12:56, Today: Elsbeth rolled 17 using 1d20+9. Attack: Concussion Rod.
12:56, Today: Elsbeth rolled 9 using 2d8+4. Damage (Concussion Rod) - if necessary.

Notes:
1)  No flanking or multiple attacker bonuses applied to the 'to hit' roll (not sure if any apply).

Combat Stats:
VITALITY (max/curr) :  65/65 (105/105 w/barrier shield (currently active))
HP (max/curr)       :  29
INIT                :  +2
DEF (hardsuit)      :  +27 ACP: -3  DR: 4 (w/ barrier shield)
BAB (Melee/Range)   :  +6/+6 (+9 w/Laser Carbine, +9 w/Concussion Rod)
SAVES (F/R/W)       :  +8/+6/+4
ACTION POINTS       :  4
BASE SPEED          :  50ft (30 (base) + 10 (armor) + 10 (class))
NOTES: Fearless, Uncanny Dodge I, Evasion, Energy Resis (sonic/conc): 4/-
       Photon Shield (50% concealment, DC 20 to spot while moving)
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
WEAPON             DMG   Crit  Range  Weight  Size  Type     Notes
Concussion Rod     2d8     20    -     2lbs   med   Bludg    MW (+1 atk)
Laser Carbine**    3d8     20   90ft*  6lbs   lrg   Laser    Mag: Eclip 49/50
   * Rangefinder Scope Gadget       ** Accuracy: +3 (+2 (inherent) +1 (MW))]

   Balkiir shot a wicked grin at the marine. She had his attention for just a second. and she definitely had enough fight in her to get the job done. He saw her lunge back at the Q'sa growling just a bit as she moved.
    Kick his ass marine Balkiir reared back with his ax till the word prisoner popped into his head. take him down alive we need to chat. Balkiir shifted his weight and kicked out trying to pin the Q'sa against the wall with his boot.
  Come her ya wormy li'l, bastard. Give it up Or i'll let her eat your heart!!!! He growled as he got his hands on the struggling Q'sa

OOC: Starting Grapple:

She could sense the storm coming as M'kira looks up in the direction of the Crow she decides to take cover. As soon as the explosions and shockwave's were over she Decides to give the Fleeing mechs a few parting shots to make certain they continue to run.

Then turns her attention to helping Tiny. If she has the proper gear for it she puts the fule fires out. It was important if the pilot was going to have any chance of survival. Not to mention the mecha itself didn't need additional damage.

IF successful She waits for the Crow to come within range so she could get Tiny and her pilot aboard. "Medical emergency. Tiny's down and I seriously doubt her pilots got much time without immediate medical attention. Can you come close enough for us to board Aziza? Oh and if anyone has the chance nows the time to capture a leader if you can."

[Private to Prometheus: OOC: Full auto whatever it takes. M'kira is hopping to take down one more mech as a parting gift. Feel free to roll for me Prometheous/please. After that she's focused on rescuing Tiny.]
This message was last edited by the player at 02:18, Wed 28 July 2010.

"I am being bring ship down at these coordinates." Aziza transmits, sending map with a highlighted area to M'Kira.  "Please to being keep all other unhostile life forms away from being crushed or burnt."

Majestically, the Crow glides with an eerie silence across the battlefield to an area temporarily devoid of life.  In truth it's thrusters are roaring as loudly as ever but after the thunder of it's weapons fire nobody's ears are picking up something as soft as an array of six powerful turbines that gently lower the venerable starship to the ground.  Aziza sends several robots to guard the hatch, then opens an access airlock.

Seeing the crow starting to move into position, Conrad moves himself closer to help give Aziza support fire.  Though still be a little ways away, Conrad keeps pushing forward at a slow rate.  Still dodging fire and finding places to hide for a moment, Conrad keeps a look out for any important targets or anything that will cause an explosion.

OOC:
Aiming at something that will cause an explosion
Conrad rolled 15 using 1d20+5. To hit with Plasma Cannon.
Conrad rolled 36 using 10d6. Plasma Cannon damage.

  a the Q'sa begin to run, their officers resort to their own brand of command and control. Much to their chagrin, someone else is paying attention to them. One officer is picked up and thrown backwards by the impact of victors round. The troops nearest him respond in uncharacteristic panic, throw down anything they are carrying and flee, heedless of danger.
    A second shock to their morale comes a second later. M'kira lines up the fleeing Mech in her sights, a low growl sounds from her fire-control system indicating a positive lock with her guns. Her Plasma cannon fires almost without her urging, a slender finger giving the control a gentle tap unleashing bottled death on her target. the Mecha's boosters explode adding fuel to the fire that engulfs it.
   Another vehicle explodes under focussed plasma as Conrad targets one of the rovers. it's diesel fuel detonating in a satisfying boom as a squad of Q'sa flee in blind panic. The rumors of their resolve seeming to not hold up when they are not in a position of numerical superiority.
   The lone Q'sa manages to free himself from Balkiir's clumsy attempt to pin him, just in time to be knocked senseless by a concussion rod to the face. his ruggedly handsome looks, by Q'sa standards. are ruined as the dermal plates crack deform and begin to leak bluish blood from their seems. his breathing is ragged but he seems to be surviving his abuse at the hands of  Elspeth providing at least one unconscious prisoner for interrogation.

     Tiny is down about 50ft from the Crow, she is too heavy for anyone but Conrad and M'kira ..or a cargo bot to move on their own.
OOC: the Q'sa are in total route, you can chase, snipe, or let them go. at this point the battle is over.
This message was last edited by a game moderator at 22:54, Thu 29 July 2010.

HE lined up one last shot, and pulled the trigger. The hasty shot flying towards the enemy. As the weapons chamber cycled empty, he stood up from his position and began walking slowly down towards the others. His cold eyes surveyed the battlefield and the carnage that had ensued. He ejected the spent mag from the weapon and fitted a new one in and chambered a round before setting the safety on and slinging it over his shoulder.

He gave a grim nod towards Elsbeth and Balkiir. Their prisoner could be a useful font of information. He moved towards the settling ship. It would be nice to be back with his original team and he wondered what had happened since they were separated. He stood waiting for the others to gather and for the post battle debrief.

[Private to GM: 18:15, Today: Victor Grym rolled 1 using 1d6. Action Point.
18:15, Today: Victor Grym rolled 12 using 1d20+10. Attack.]

  " Blakiir, Kuvul, Ip Syris na Jeffery."<blue> Balkiir introduced himself to the Elspeth as he moved to truss the prisoner up. <blue> Used the in the Corps, 395th Shock assault off of the Alamo"
       "Great ship she went down fighting in the last Naj incursion. took cruiser with her when she burned though. Died Right... He rambled as he worked.
   he paused wiped some of the blood off his hands and tore open a supplement bar, his stomach now gnawing at his spine after a fight. he looked at the blue smudges on his hand and made a face. then went back to eating. His stomach letting him know it wasn't in the mood for him being prissy.
    "Ain't seen moves like that out of a Tae, he commented ass he pointed to a trail of bodies leading back along the explorers tracks." Usually they're more worried about getting out a live than dishing out the whoop ass....funny thing you usually get yerself killed if you worry about living ...damn universe has a sick sense of humor."
    Get it done, get it over, Get back home to the Man." Balkiir chuckled "Well thats what The moms say, wouldn't know about the Man part.
   Balkiir dug into his cargo pockets digging out another ration bar,offering it to Elspeth. then as if noticing he was babbling and his hands were covered in blood both his and the Q'sa he shot her a sheepish grin.

M'kira looks satisfied knowing that the worse the defeat they suffered the more likely they wouldn't want to try fighting at a later time. "I think that's wraps this one up folks. Good luck with Salvage Conrad I will take care of tiny. Oh she's a mess it's going to be a interesting job for you and Aziza to patch her up. Did we get any prisoners for interrogation? My name is M'kira T'shal it's a pleasure to meet you folks. Hope those medics are ready I am coming aboard with wounded Aziza."

She carefully picks up Tiny once the fire was out then does her best to board the Crow. Flying if she had to once she's in the cargo bay she gently sets tiny down. "Can you pop the cockpit open tiny? We need to get to your pilot for medical attention. If not we might need to use plasma cutters to get it open."

With that she slips out of her Powered battle armor with a concerned look on her face. If the communications over the com were any indicator the pilot was in bad shape even before tiny got mangled and her fule tanks exploded.

  "I think I can."<blue> Tiny replied over her speaker.<blue>" My power systems are about done for.

   "I didn't do a very good job of protecting him" Tiny felt something she never had , she had no words to describe it. Popping the cockpit hatch she groaned as blood dripped out onto the deck and Garrow fell out nearly cut in half by the blast from the anti tank rockets.

Oh god, somebody do something Tiny moaned as she saw the medics from the colony moving to help her friend.

She had seen her fair share of carnage on the battle field however she felt those that kept their souls never got used to it. Grimacing with a sad look her eyes flick to tiny after seeing the horror of the wreckage that was the remains of his body. With that kind of damage he was probably already dead although with advanced technology if they could prevent true brain death who knew what was possible.

She moves aside to let the medics do what they could. Speaking softly to Tiny she shakes her head slightly. "I understand how you feel Tiny. This isn't my first battle and all I can tell you is that no one is perfect. You can be the most skilled pilot, tactician, crack shot possible and it still doesn't guarantee survival. I can tell you care deeply for your pilot and because of that I know you did your best to protect him. That's all anyone can ask of themselves. The Medics are here and they will do their best to save him. We will fix you up as well Tiny."

For what it was worth and as long as the metal wasn't to hot to touch she touches Tiny's shoulder comfortingly. IF it was to hot to touch she refrains from the gesture out of Necessity.

Conrad smiles as the enemy runs off in defeat.  Not wanting to cause them to turn around and attack some more, Conrad puts his weapons down and turns on the safety switch in order not to accidentally shoot someone.  When the action settles down and everyone can safely board the Crow, Conrad makes his way to the ship while keeping a watch for any Q'sa that might get ballsy enough to try a counter attack.

"Does someone want to drop me some tools and I will begin salvaging anything I can find.  Also, I would recommend sending me out another ship to pick up all the pieces I may find."

With that, another thought crosses his mind. "Oh, Aziza, do you have any parts you want me to look for?"

Elsbeth removed her concussion rod from the faceplate of the Q'sa prisoner with a jerk.  The rod collapsed back into its closed form with a practiced flick of the wrist.  Once her concussion rod was stowed back in its thigh sheathe, Elsbeth pushed the limp body of the Q'sa up over the lip of the foxhole and unceremoniously ripped off the helmet and chest plate of the reptilian form.  When she popped her own visor, the vents in her armour opened and began to cycle and exchange the air in the suit - the airflow made a barely audible hiss.  Elsbeth placed one foot on the prisoner while Balkiir worked on tying the knots and introduced himself.  "I am Lance Corporal Elsbeth Sinclair-Smythe, Mr. Balkiir Kovul Ip Syris na Jeffery." Elsbeth responded in kind.  She held out her left index finger to help him finish the final bow with a flourish and then extended her gauntleted right hand to him as part of her introduction.  "359th Recon - I am part of the Mobile Armored Recon and Surveillance squad there." she intoned, and then glanced over at Tiny and what was left of her pilot.  She added with a frown forming, "That recon mech, Tiny is her designation, I believe, and I appear to be all that is left of the 359th."  Her lips pressed thin, she noted flatly, "Her driver is...er... was Sergeant Garrow.  Staff Sergeant John Garrow."

Then, Elsbeth tilted her head and regarded the large, blue Valkir man with a slightly bemused look on her face.  Once Balkiir had stood to his full height, she noted that he probably slightly taller than she was, since her in her powered armor and him in only his combat armor were level - eye to eye.  And that was a rare occurrence for her: to find anyone taller than her; she knew plenty of them they existed, they were just rare to meet for her, for some reason.  It was only after dwelling on that fact for a number of moments that she realized that Balkiir was still talking to her.  She nodded slowly, taking her time to answer.  "I remember hearing about the Alamo - it sacrificed itself by doing a kamizaze, taking out the bridge of the Naj flagship near Ceti Prime, wasn't it?  Standard reading in tactics and mil history classes."

"And thank you for your timely arrival." she added off-hand, switching gears, "There were obviously much more enemy here than I could handle.  Without the aid and firepower of you and your companions, that trail of bodies would have ended with mine."

She smiled slightly when he mentioned her moves, but pretty much only shrugged off the compliment.  "My 'moves'?" Elsbeth mused, "Yours were better."  She pointed to the piles of bodies on and near the explorer riddled with machinegun fire.  "I was only trying to do my job.  I have found, as it appears you have as well, that if one worries too much about surviving, one never gets the job done."  She remained silent on the nature of the Universe.  Elsbeth's fluctuating relationship with the Fickle Lady of Fortune, Ifni, was too personal to mention right now; Garrow's body was proof enough of that.

Elsbeth held up a hand as a polite refusal of Balkiir's offer of food; she had had enough of compressed protein bars for the time being.  She had lost some significant weight over the past week or so; but nothing that a couple of solid, non-vacuum packed, non-compressed, meals could not resolve.  Still, she ignored her stomach for the moment, only conceding to pull her canteen from her belt and drink some water.  She held the canteen out Balkiir, but warned him, "It's, ah, recycled.  It should be safe though."  She added matter-of-factly, "What can I say?  My suit filters haven't been cleaned for a bit."

Elsbeth looked thoughtful for a moment, "Speaking of jobs, that reminds me.... Who is in charge here, Mr. Balkiir Kovul Ip Syris na Jeffery?  I should likely debrief."  She stowed her canteen, dusted off the leg plates of her armour, and then hefted the prisoner over her shoulder, carrying the inert body like a sack of potatoes.  She waited for Balkiir to join her and the started towards the Crow.  As she slowly made her way (for there was not longer any need to rush to the ship), Elsbeth acknowledged Victor's hail with a short salute.

  "Call me balkiir, or "hey you" anytime someone calls out for Mister, I keep expecting my grand father to show up."
   "In charge, of this lot..,That would be T'risa...Marshal K'mahda." Grabbing several sheafs of paper and a case from the corner of the fighting hole,  Balkiir stepped out of the Gunpit pausing as he spotted Victor, his face tighening for a moment then relaxing, " Hey Grymm thought you were bug poo, when they drug ya Down we thought you ahd bought the farm.

  Tiny fcouldnt feel the womans hand on her shell, but the guesture seemed to help. for once someone besides garrow treated her like more than a weapon.  " garrow took care of me, he kept them from scrapping me when the project failed. He...He trusted me.
    She watched as the two colonists zipped Garrow into a cryo-bag and hit the tab to freeze him for transport. It felt as is something had shorted out, a jolt of confusing code, and feedback in every part of her core. the feedback was more than just code, the failure alerts set up loops within loops in her mind, what had once been nothing but secondary data was now something that caused her agony. as one subroutine then another was caught up int the cascade of failures caused by having her shell shot out from around her.
   " take care of him, and ... when he wakes up tell him I'm sorry I couldn't do better.

"I will do that if I can and if I can't I will see to it that someone does. I will let T'risa know about that she's a marshal. I think it would be good if you worked with us Tiny. We could use your help and with any luck we can fix you up good as new."

She was a little surprised at the strong emotional responses tiny was showing. However A.I.'s were very powerful and sophisticated beings. Sentience was the qualification for life not flesh and blood. "Let's see about getting you fixed up Tiny. <blue> "Conrad I am going to need your help. I think we have someone very special joining out team. Her name is tiny and she's a extraordinary AI in the body of that mecha we Evac'ed from that battle.  I know you want to salvage things from the battle so would you like me to send you a detailed scan of Tiny and her damage?  Or would you prefer to take a personal look so you can make a shopping list so we can get her back into fighting form?"

Depending on his answer she clears things with Aziza if at all possible then sends the needed equipment to Conrad. She was fairly certain Aziza would be for salvaging ever last bit of material from the battle field. Some of it could be used to repair the crow and some would help finance the needed repairs. Others of course would go towards repairs for tiny and building new useful things. At least that's what she thought Conrad had in mind.

"Aziza I'm sending some needed salvage equipment to Conrad. I Figure we can use some of it to help get the crow fixed up and some of it for tiny amongst other things."

M'kira scans the battle field assessing the number of survivors, prisoners and any other pertinent Intel. Lastly if at all possible she gets into contact with T'risa knowing she would want to know what's going on. "T'risa if your getting this we got three military survivors from the battle and it looks like one Q'sa prisoner. Tiny's pilot  has been put into cryo by the medics. I recommend the Battle mech and the A.I. Tiny be recruited into our team. I will discuss Tiny in more detail once we have privacy. Im not sure what the rest of the survivors want but they might be interested in joining us as well. Guess we will find out soon enough."

Conrad took a moment to think over the options.  Not wanting to waste time out here in the open but not wanting to sacrifice a big improvement to the team.  Conrad figures it was best to see what was truly needed before making a choice.

"M'Kira, Can you check to make sure all of Tiny's base components are still in decent running shape.  Also, if you really need to, you can always see if you can turn Tiny offline for a while just in case the damage is extent.  The problem we are going to run into is that we lack parts at the moment and need to get back to the outpost where we have more resources.  Also, have Aziza send some of her robots down and begin doing minor repairs on Tiny."  Hesitating for a moment, hoping his choice he is making is the proper one.  "I would like to be able to get as much material as possible before the Q'sa come back, but if you don't feel comfortable handling Tiny then I can return to the ship in a moments notice.  But really all you need to check for is that Tiny hasn't received any damage in the area where her AI is stored.  If there is damage, then either Aziza or myself will need to see what repairs we can do on the fly."

Yet again, Conrad feels torn over to return to the ship or start searching for useful parts.  Then Conrad gets an idea and calls the Crow to speak with Aziza.

"Hello Aziza, We have an important AI on board the ship now.  Could you send your robots to run a diagnostic on Tiny to see what damage has been done.  If Tiny's AI is still in good shape and the mecha Tiny is stored in has been damaged, then the best thing we can do is power down Tiny in order to preserve the AI without any more damage being done.  I would like to be able to salvage some parts out here in the battle field before returning the outpost.  If that works for you, then drop me some tools and send me out a transport ship to pick up parts.  Either way, taking care of Tiny is most important."
This message was last edited by the player at 05:44, Sun 01 Aug 2010.

T'risa sense of approval and happiness at a job well done pulsed through everyone save the new arrivals.

"Well done team. Meet us back at the base. We'll be there soon enough ourselves."

"I will do what I can Conrad. Don't forget I am not a engineer like you." Her tone was warm and amused as she speaks. Granted she had to know some things in order to check up on her own equipment. So she does what she can and then transmits the information to Conrad.

Since Aziza was on the same Com channel she knew the Cesti had already gotten the request. "If you could please Aziza. Conrad's Requesting your robot's assistance in the salvage operation." Having done what she could it was now between Aziza and Conrad to accomplish the mission.

Hearing T'risa's voice brought a lovely smile to M'kira her face lighting up. "You got it T'risa. I look forward to seeing you again."

"Hmmm... A Marshal?" Elsbeth wondered quietly aloud.  She was a little surprised, expecting there to be more Marine personnel assigned - but Colonial Authority, was Authority.  And a Marshal had just as much jurisdiction, presumably in this case.  So, Elsbeth shrugged a little, making the inert prisoner's head loll from side to side, and continued on towards the ship.  "Thank you for the information, Balkiir.  She had to stop herself from adding more of his name when addressing him.  "And thank you again for coming to my aid back there.   I suspect that I owe you a beer or some such." she said after the pause.

Elsbeth presumed for the chatter on the main comm line that Marshal K'mahda was not actually present, though honestly she wasn't sure.  Once she made her way to the Crow, Elsbeth stopped at the ramp for the cargo hold and waited.  Elsbeth made sure that she did not block (too much) ramp traffic, which there seemed to be plenty of.

She saw M'kira, but waited until the large blue woman was done with her other duties - she did seem to be in charge, of sorts.  She wasn't sure that M'kira wasn't the Marshal.  There was no insignia displayed, but that was not always a sure sign either way.  In any case, in order to be safe, Elsbeth snapped to attention and then asked M'kira, since she seemed to be the Duty Officer, "Permission to come aboard, Ma'am."

M'kira was pleasantly surprised and only to happy to see that Grym had survived. Laughing and smiling she claps him on the arm if he was close enough. If not she simply laughs and greets him. "Hey Grym it's good to see you made it. Did your com break? You should have let us know you were alive."

She turns to regard Elsbeth with a warm smile her honey hued eyes both alert and friendly. "Welcome aboard Marine permissions granted. We will get you settled in and debriefed soon. Going to rendezvous with T'risa K'mahda she's the Marshal leading the mission. If you stay long there's a good chance she will deputize you. So what brings you to this hunk of rock in space anyway?"

Before they go she looks down at Tiny speaking softly. "Tiny we will get you fixed up. I will be back to check on you ok."

If Elsbeth had a moment M'kira shows her the crew quarters talking to her as they go or in place if she wanted to stay put. "I can show you the crew quarters where you will bunk while you stay aboard the crow. Aziza is a cesti and she's the captain and owner of this ship. We have a salvage operation going on which will probably slow us down a little. The ship took some damage as did Tiny and we could use the parts and materials to assist in repairs. You can help with that if you want."
This message was last edited by the player at 16:45, Thu 05 Aug 2010.

  "Thank you. Tiny tired to sound less like a whiner and more like a warhound. "" Some paint and a few patches and I'll be fine....has anyone seen my rifle...or my arm....it was my best one....owwww crap that hurts..... she winced as something blew out in her system" Great, I alway wondered what pain felt like... it sucks!

Elsbeth stood at attention with the unconscious Q'sa held casually over her shoulder as she waited.  And then she nodded curtly to M'kira, when the Valkir woman welcomed her aboard.  "Thank you, Ma'am.", she stated rather formally and ritualistically - noting mentally that this woman was not that Marshal, ostensibly.  Elsbeth shrugged her right shoulder and the inert Q'sa riding on it, popped off and she rather unceremoniously laid him down on the cargo ramp; she seemed to be handling him more like a sack of potatoes than another sophont.  "Ma'am, it is a Marine tradition to never enter a new ship without a gift.  I am afraid that I all I brought was this...  She gestured to the prisoner.  "It squirmed a bit, but Mr. Kov...er... Balkiir," she caught herself and shot the large blue man a contrite glance, "was very helpful in helping me pin it down and beat it senseless."

"I was forced to use my concussion rod to keep up with him." she added with a rather deadpan delivery.  The Q'sa body armor does show a couple of suspiciously cylindrical indentations, which would perfectly fit a servo-driven impact from a high-quality, harnessed singularity tipped implement.

In response to M'kira's question about her presence on the planet, Elsbeth cocked her head to one side and gave the Valkir woman a rather puzzled look.  "I'm sorry, Ma'am, I cannot answer that question.  I mean, I don't rightly know.  Tiny and I were just given our immediate marching orders and short-term objectives." she noted.  "Presumably, the information that you are looking for is way above my pay grade." Elsbeth added rather matter-of-factly.  It was as though the situation (her being pretty much completely in the dark) was absolutely and completely normal - Business as Usual.

When the large blue woman asked her about accommodations, Elsbeth shrugged and she started to follow her.  But when M'kira mentioned salvage work, Elsbeth stopped, looked at her and nodded.  "Sounds like heavy lifting, the perfect grunt work to me, Ma'am." she said flatly.  "Right up my alley.  Just point me in the direction where my muscles and servos can do the most good.  I'm sure seeing the crew's quarters can wait."

"Your welcome." A faint smile of amusement appears at Tiny's bravado with a touch of sympathy as well. Who would have thought they would provide a A.I. with a sense capable of registering pain.

M'kira nods as well in recognition of Elsbeth's thank you. Though being a Marine she left it at that. She grins looking down at the prisoner speaking softly. "OH that will do as a mighty fine present. Once we get the Intel out of the Q'sa I am sure it will be more then sufficient."

Her eyes flick back to Elsbeth smiling and making a slight throw away gesture. "Typical for command to do that. Yes I will leave that to the marshal if she cares to look into it. What's more important is getting the current mission done."

M'kira had started to lead the way then stop  when Elsbeth volunteers to help with the salvage operation. Not surprising with the Marines can do attitude. "All right then let's put those muscles and servo's to good use." Using the com she contacts Conrad. "I am sending a Marine to give you a hand with the salvage operation Conrad. Let Sgt. Elsbeth know what you need."

She takes a moment to Point Elsbeth in the right direction since Conrad couldn't be that far away. Whatever cargo loader vehicle they had she could take. "Take the Cargoloader. It should prove useful out there." Hopefully he would have Aziza's automated robots lending a hand. Then she returns to tend to tiny as best she can till a more skilled tech takes over.

"All right Tiny lets see what I can do for you will we wait for more skilled help to arrive."

[Private to Prometheus: OOC: YOu can make the repair roll for me Prometheous. My skill is only 6 but I figure I can at least stop more stuff from burning out.]

Listening to M'kira over the com, Conrad starts to get himself out of his mecha and rearrange himself.

"I'm not to far away from the Crow, a few hundred yards.  I'm just scouting the wreckage to see what I can grab.  Dont forget to send me tools.  And a torch of some sort.  I'll see what I can grab in the next couple of hours.  I feel we may have to just get what we need to fix the Crow and Tiny and come back later and find any other goodies, but with some bots and a good marine, I should have some goodies pretty quickly."

With that, Conrad gets out and starts looking around his immediate area for any weapons from infantry and starts stacking them near his mecha while waiting for assistance to show up.  While looking around, Conrad pulls out his multitool and starts to take whatever else apart he can while waiting, though he couldnt do much without a nice set of tools and a torch.

   " Processing instructions the Cargo loader turned and began to march down the ramp." Please to direct efforts of machine, Most excellent of the Cunning Furesh has instructed all robotic servants to assist Humans who Kill without fear, or reasonable sense of self preservation.

    a squad of robots rolls, walks scuttles and whirs down the ramp, seeking out hidden explosives, viral land mines and parasites seeded by the enemy to infect everyone with some horrible disease.

      A work assistant rolls up to Conrad and beeps, Handing him a fusion cutter as he works at removing a chain gun from one of the Mecha. standing by with a dozen hands each one holding a tool for his use as he needs it.

  " Oh yeah this was in the bug hole with the gunner" Balkiir hands over a fist full of maps and data cards." I have to grab a bite, my tanks on empty, H replied as he dug into a supply canister by the door coming out with a stack of sandwiches and bottles of something blue and fizzy.

     "Hey marine, top off with real food before we get back out there. Those ration bars are fine to keep ya going but roast beef sure hit the spot after a week of eating them.
      "And I'll bet a weeks pay your gut is gnawing on your spine right about now." Balkiir added as he stripped out of his armor and bloodstained shirt glancing at the wound in his shoulder." Damn, that was my last clean shirt.

once everyone has finished here they can return to the Furesh Scout: Crow thread. and head over to pick up T'risa and the rest after they finish their fight.

Work on salvage  and Intelligence gathering goes smoothly. The heat and dust make the work Physically demanding even with the Help of the robots, and Elspeth's Enhanced strength.
   In the end the medics identify and recover 15 missing colonists. and six members of a Previous CASAR team that had went missing shortly after arrival. their final stand accounted for at least 50 dead Q'sa and seems to have lasted more than two days from notes found int the explorer.
   The survey team roster, and files on the missing team indicate that two colonists and at least 1 member of the CASAR team are still unaccounted for as is the ship that the CASAR team flew in on.

As Elspeth, Tiny and Grym are debriefed more mysteries arise out of their individual reports...But that is a different tale.

In later Reports on the "L-297 Incident" the engagement will be referred to as the First Battle of Rocky Flats.