Pegasus-411 had arrived at the classifed base, more or less, on time as ordered.  The battered scarred surface and patchwork job of plating was showing the wear and tear the current tour of duty was taking on the spunky hovercraft.

Captain (?) Garabaldo had inherited the command of the 2nd Recon company when the previous commander was killed in action.  Shrapnel from a Combine Centurion hard ripped through his body leaving Garabaldo the duty of leading what was left of the company to withdraw in some semblance of good order.

The 2nd Recon company had arrived in force, or at least what was left of them.  Not even half a dozen tanks remained.  The bases personnel and as much information was being cleared out as quickly as possible.  Pegasus-411 was being quick rigged to handle new equipment.

It was an 'honor' that Tony thought they could do with out.  New electronics was being installed on his tank.  To make matter worse, a third of his missiles were disappearing to make space for it.

(* Tony has free time at this point as his tank is being overhauled by the base techs.  As a commander it's his perogative how he wants to spend it. *)

---

Crispin was on hand and observed the installation with get interest with enough questions to fill a datapad.  The equipment was nothing short of amazing.  The previous equipment was good, this stuff was cutting edge and he hadnt seen it's like since before the star league army's exodus for parts unknown.

The gear was still works in progress and nothing pretty to look at but the results from the test they were running with him was astounding.

(* Crispin is currently in 411 and being shown the workings of the new gear by a technician named Albert *)

---

Pegasus 411 may not have looked like much but she ran well and Gregory was a big part of the reason.  Not only was he an able driver, but a knowledgeable mechanic.  It didnt sit right with him that technicians were tearing out bits and pieces of his baby and installing 'stuff' on his tank.

Dammit all if something was going to be broken, he was going to have someones hide over this.

(* Gregory is currently watching half a dozen technicans tear up his tank and install 'stuff' on it that he's never seen.  It's heartbreaking for him. but he's been ordered to let it happen. *)

---

This is the start of the roleplaying thread.  We may be a player short which i'm fine with.  It'll leave room for a Davion Liason Officer if that's so.

Tony watched what was going on, and asked enough questions to get the gist of it.

What he got:
The Active Electronic Warfare Probe is a powerful electronics sensor suite enhancement capable of detecting and identifying even shut-down or camouflaged units—excepting conventional infantry—at distances much greater and with more reliability than the standard-issue battlefield sensor suites used by most combat units today. Blah blah, have McAlister push some buttons.
The Electronic Counter Measures suite is a broad-spectrum jamming and electronic countermeasure system powerful and smart enough to scramble all hostile electronics within a spherical “bubble” roughly 180 meters across. The Guardian could even adapt to and scatter contemporary EW packages like the Beagle Active Probe, Narc Missile Beacon and Artemis IV—all while simultaneously keeping friendly channels and targeting enhancers clear. Blah blah, someone pushes more buttons.
Both systems made it so they could shoot the bad guys, and the bad guys had trouble shooting back.

"I sure as hell hope these things are worth it, I'd rather have the missiles."

(OOC: Not really, just IC. These things are the cat's meow and I put them in a lot of my mechs if I can.)
This message was last edited by the player at 22:47, Sun 17 July 2011.

(That's actually what they're called in about 10 or 20 years from now.  At the moment they're just Advance EW gear.  Getting ready to leave sisters house will update this soon, tommorow if not tonight.)

He was in a dark mood looking at the mechanics mutilating his baby. She was running fine and didn't need all that 'crap' they where putting on. He had tweaked the engines to max performance and now these barbarians where ripping essential bits out of his baby. If she needed anything it was a super charged engine but no they where throwing in electronics and taking missiles off. Gritting teeth and glaring at the barbarians gutting his baby from a safe distance, he was ordered to stay away after threatening one of the mechanics with a wrench promising the man he would tear his head off if they screwed up his baby, he took another sip of his coffee.

The data that was feeding back to this cutting edge equipment was so amazing that he couldn't keep the grin off his face.  Luckily for him Greg and Tony were outside 411 so they couldn't give him the same looks that they were giving to the tech crews pulling her apart to make room for the gear.  He had plenty of questions for Albert as he would likely have to debug and repair things on the fly if they got damaged in the field and he didn't want to damage it further if that was the case.

~ Tony ~

The long short of it, was that they we're downgrading 411's missile systems to turn her into an EW boat capable of providing battalion or even regimental level electronic support.  At least that was the theory if everything worked (if).  What was left of 151st Regimental command thought it was pretty important to get 411 upgraded for some reason.

If nothing else it gave 411 a chance to resupply before hitting the field again.  Squating in the woods and sleeping in a cramped tank gets old fast.

---

~ Greg ~

Thankfully, they were staying away from the suspension and transport systems well, mostly.  They were overhauling the missile system, twinking with the turret system, and totally gutting the sensors and targeting system.  If you were the gunner, you'd be ALOT more upset, but for the most part you just need to make sure 411 gets to where it's going and lives through what's happening to come home.

You're pretty pleased that the egg heads havent tried to upgrade the reliable and easy to work ICE to a more 'efficient' fusion system, which you wouldnt be able to maintain, till you overhear one of them mention.  Such upgrades will be slotted for 'the future'.

---

~ Crispin ~

Albert mentions in the lab, everything worked fine, but the electronics were a little 'delicate' and havent been 'battlefield' tested.  They're waiting for feed back from Crispin.

Theres discussion of adding or swapping out one of the crew members of 411 for a lab tech to study field testing, and to handle repairs to the EW if needed.  Crispin is pretty sure Tony isnt going to be too please with THAT bit of news.

---

Hoping to look at character sheets today/tommorow to finalize.  Will fish for a fourth player, to fill the gunnery position for the tank.  Will likely gut some cargo space to add a 'fifth' davion (npc) liason to the crew.
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:23, Mon 18 July 2011.

"What?! A civvie? You got to be out of your firakking mind! I don't care if he knows the circuit board, he wouldn't even know when to duck, or when to expect the tank to buck! I mean, I'm a marine, I don't have the experience the rest of the crew does, and I'm way better than some frakking lab tech. Some lowly, pissed-someone-off lab rat, too, or else he wouldn't be here. Seriously, what can he do that the stupid thing couldn't send electronically? McAlister can fix it better than the guy they send, I'd bet my lunch for a week on it." That was saying something- no E-Rats, not even field food, they were fed real, live, chow since they were in base getting the retrofit. It was almost worth platinum. Well- to those who weren't civilian lab rats who'd never been in the field, anyhow.

(OOC: I know, it'll probably a very experienced and likeable person, but I'm on a roll here. :P )

Eventually getting bored enough and frustrated to the point of not being allowed to be on the job up close he finishes his drink and starts to saunter off for a long refreshing walk and to get himself a proper fix. The good stuff was hard to come by after all and who knew when he got another opportunity to stock up.

~ Captain Garabaldo ~

Nate waves a hand dismissively at Garabaldo's objections, "You're a soldier Captain.  You'll do what youre told like everyone else.  They're pulling out one of the cargo lockers to make room for a fifth on 411.

The Fed Rats seem to think that since they're installing their equipment on your tank, that they have a right to be there to watch you blow it up or run it into the ground.  The old man thinks it's a cheap price to pay considering that it's suppose to be cutting edge technologoy that we havent see around since before we were born."

He makes a motion as if that topic of the discussion was over as far as he was concerned.

"This base of operations isnt on any map, but it's too exposed and it's just a matter of time till their Aero recon picks it out.  We've got transports inbound to bug out and move everything that isnt nailed down to 'dispersed' locations."

Dispersed was the nice way of saying divide it up and hide it everywhere to avoid losing it all in one decisively bad stroke of luck.

"Your recon company has been assigned this sector to secure and work out of.  It doesnt look like much, which is the point.  Hopefully the Combine and Dragoons will think the same and wont come knocking.  Logistics will make an effort to send out shipments once a week.  Supplies and what ever munitions we can spare."

It wasnt an ideal arrangement, but then again everything was SNAFU since the invasion started so what else was new?

---

~ Gregory ~

The mess tent was an open aired oversized Gazebo.  There were long metallic picnic style tables and benches put out and a chow line.  The food was understandably horrible.  The saving grace was that, it was fresh (sort of) and they werent MRE's that were reconstituted to an edible state with water rations.  Here and there other men and women wearing Eridani colors were seated grabbing a bite to eat while they could.

---

~ Caitlin ~

It was just one of those days for Caitlin.  Short rest, and stuck in a Pegasus with three other guys and out on patrol for days with out a shower was enough to make anyone surly.  Finding out that Pegasus 411 was being overhauled was pretty bad.  Finding out that they were overhauling the sensors and targeting was pretty unwelcome.  Losing a third of her missiles just made it one of those days.

Captain Garabaldo only said they were here for some refiting, no one said anything about downgrading her weapons or ripping out the targeting system.  The Eridani was a good military unit, but it was still a military unit.  Anything not broken being fixed, was guaranteed to be broken by the time they were done.  it was enough to make her weep.
This message was last edited by the GM at 19:42, Mon 18 July 2011.

Crispin realized quickly into the commentary that they would need the expertise of the extra person.  He was good at what he did but this gear was delving into fields that he had either barely grazed by on or hadn't at all...there was no need to before they slapped this thing into the 411.

"As cramped as it will be and as certain as I am that all around there will be griping if it works as advertised without breaking too often it'll be a win-win...least from my pov." he chuckled as he started to realize that they were going to be sharing the metal coffin with another soul.

Gregory grumbled though he was used to it ever since he got that nice letter from his father 'kindly requesting' him to never ever return home. He grabs some chow and some drink and sits down with some familiar faces.

"I'd kill fore some boiled lobster now you know. Real food instead of this warmed up vomit."

He pulls out his canteen which has the reputation to be filled with the good stuff you didn't want your chauffeur drinking before a ride and offers it for sharing.

Caitlin sat outside the refit facility rubbing her temples, trying desperately not to scream. They "fixed" her targeting system and optics, last time they did that, her accuracy dropped by 20 per cent. She didn't mind losing the missiles so much. She might have in the better times, but recently they'd been going out short loaded due to lack of supplies and the missiles were so precious she couldn't practice to bring herself up to speed with the "improvements"

"What they expect me to use? Harsh language?" Caitlin muttered to herself as she took a sip of water from a chilled plastic bottle. She was almost tempted to wipe the grime and soot from her face, but clean water was something to drink, only when there was plenty, could she indulge.

She looked back at the facility, mentally trying to fight the urge to roll a frag grenade into the place and kill the people destroying her tank. It was cramped enough inside, any more additions might make it impossible.

She held up the St. George medallion in her hand. Her brother gave her it for luck. Normally it would take pride of place on the gunsight, but she didn't trust them not to steal it. St. George patron saint of the Cavalry and syphilitic. She grinned, before placing it back into one of her pockets and zipping it tight. Rising stiffly to her feet, she picked up her helmet, sticking it under her arm and headed for the chow line. Perhaps they had something nice to eat for a change.

She couldn't help but hear Gregory's comment as she arrived in line. "The warmed up vomit again? Oh well, it beats the cold vomit......and your cooking by a long stretch." her soft Irish lilt resounded throughout the mess hall, her tone indicating she was teasing, but with a harsh edge thanks to the news about the weapons systems.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:10, Mon 18 July 2011.

"Yes, sir," he replied glumly. After the rest, he cocked his head to the side, doing some quick calculations. "Sir, with that extra person, and that locker gone, which we keep food in, we should have enough supplies for about 3 days, I think. And you say you'll try very hard to get us food every week. I think we'll need four filter canteens, and a good batch of ammo for the old bolt-action rifle. I'm going to need to supplement or rations with anything that doesn't move fast enough. And whatever E-rat pills you have, sir. Nasty as they are, I need something to keep my crew from eating each other."

After the informational meeting- it certainly wasn't a two-way communication- he went to the chow line. He might as well get whatever he could, now. In fact, he'd stuff whatever might keep for later in his pouches, too.

Seeing the others in line, he cuts up to them and says, "Team meeting after dinner. Tell Crispin if you see him, otherwise we'll go looking. Bring food." He then heads to the back of the line, instead of cutting in.

He chuckles and takes a swig of his canteen filled with moonshine before passing it to the first taker.

"You need quality ingredients to make a decent meal. I can't help you dont have Soltarian Beef here but just some cheap knock off."

The driver was known to hail from a well of family and have lived the life of luxury and his presence here was strange in the least.
As the Lt orders a team meeting he replies good spirited.

"Nothing of that available here Sir. Where we meeting?"

"Well, bring what excuse they use for it here that won't spoil. Might as well be near your still- I could use a drink. Oh wait, you don't have one of those, I keep forgetting, I might have to reprimand you or something if I found out," he said, taking a swig from the offered canteen. *Cough* "Smooth," he said in a grating whisper, passing it back. Recovering, he added, "How about by the artillery spotter's lookout, it has such a nice view."

"Yes, sir" she snorted in surprise at the Lieutenants suggestion of a place to meet. "We have artillery?" she said, before realising she perhaps shouldn't have said it quite that loudly. "Uh....I'll get Crispin after I've had some chow, sir. He probably has his head stuck in a book, or the engine compartment."

"If he touches my engine i tear his head off. It enough we have those damn techs tearing her apart like they are doing. Not a drop of respect for a girl like her."

He scratches his beard and once everyone was done with the canteen puts it away to eat his meal with enough speed his taste buts wouldn't have time to taste the bad stuff.

"No. That's why it makes such a good place to meet. Nice place set up for someone with viewers to use, only I'm not sure if anyone has those, let alone artillery to direct with them."
"Thanks, better than all of us looking for him."

"Yeah... I don't think he'll do that. He should know better from the last time, when he decided he could tweak the computer chip... Remember? I think you explained rather well to him, not to cross that line. He respects her, though- more like someone with a beatiful girl they think needs...er," he stammers, looking at Caitlin, "augmentation. Might make things a little better, might make them a little worse, I don't see why things should be messed with if they're good." You're pretty sure he's not talking about augmenting women's cleavage anymore.

Caitlin raised an eyebrow "Why sure, and he's looking at me when he says beautiful girl that he thinks needs augmentation and in front of the entire chow line." her voice started to grow louder in indignation as she sat down  "and when I could just as easily be mentioning the other members of the crew that are more in need of it. Sir." she left the statement trailing as she toyed with the food in front of her.

Caitlin wasn't really hungry, she know in her head she needed to eat, but she found herself eating mechanically. She knew the Lt was messing around with Asgard, it was amusing the way he kept getting flustered like that. After being on his crew for so long, she thought he'd begin to get used to the fact she was part of it.

Caitlin hunched over the table trying to engage the others in conversation. "So....what's new? I heard Sue and Matt from Striker 201 got caught in 'conduct unbecoming' last night." the smile grew on her face. "They are so cute together."

Gregory ends the talk about the mutilation of his baby with a gruff hmmph and the scraping sound of his spoon over his now empty plate.

"Neither of our girls need augmentation Sir. They are both operating perfectly without any unnatural Gizmo's."

He Shoots Caitlin a wide grin and grabs his canteen for another swig. When she starts to gossip he chimes in.

"Well you know it eventually happens. Only natural that in the heat of battle weapons get drawn. To bad they have gotten themselves caught though i hope the pictures show up on the net soon enough."

"I said I don't think augmentation is a good thing. Ruins the simple beauty, if everything was tweaked into the same mold, there wouldn't be enough diversity to recognize real beauty when you saw it. Personally I prefer looks to size, myself."

He heads off as the gossip starts. Especially the net pictures part- some things, it's better your officers didn't know about. Officially, anyhow.

"I wanna get a look at this thing..." mentioned Crispin as he crawled out of one hatch of the 411 to the open panelling on the side of the hovercraft.  Sticking his upper body in his legs dangled out into the air and his never quite healed burn scarred right arm that was missing a pair of fingers held onto a rail as best as possible.  If someone didn't know better it would almost look like he was a dead body sticking out of the 411 in some macabre portrait...

...inside the panel though his good arm checked linkages and referenced them to the slate he had been given.

"I know, but I'm so happy for them. After Sue's guy got hit on the first day of the invasion, she was lost for a while. Matt is so good for her, I'm happy they're together" she leaned forward over the table "My work here, is done." Cat looked pleased with her self as she continued eating her dinner. "You know exactly what they're doing to our bean sidhe? All I know is they cut the number of tubes down by 4. You're going to have to be at the top of your game now. Hit and move."

He shakes his head and doesn't look to pleased.

"All i know is they are adding more electronics. So basically we are getting screwed even harder when taking a hit and get more stuff along that can break. I hate it when they do that. "

~ Captain Garabaldo ~

Nate reviews a few more things with Captain Garabaldo before they part ways.

His sector does feature an underground spring, and is near a mountain. A cave has been scouted out that might make for a decent base of operations, and a jutted over hang to park Pegasus under, goes along way to hiding her.  A bit of camo netting and you'd have to be close up to find her.

The spring should simplify logistics.  A water purifier to kill whatever was in the water, would ensure that drinkable water was close at hand.  The only thing that would they needed to fly out would probably be food, and munitions.

Five people, over seven days, that was about 35 pounds of food that would have to be flown out.  They could stow the rations in the cave, but god forbid they lost the cave, they'd all starve.

---

~ Pegasus 411 ~

The hissing sound of a torch hot enough to slice through armor was cut off and the sound of metal being wrenched apart was heard as the crew nearest to 411 watch some of the storage lockers got torn out of the tank for part of the refit.  Personal effects were piled up near the tank for the crew to review what could be taken and would have to be left behind.

~ Mess hall ~

Even from here you could watch them tearing up the ole girl, and the squeals of metal being wrenched apart almost sounded like she was in literal pain.  At
least as much as an inanimate object could make.


This message was last edited by the GM at 17:09, Tue 19 July 2011.

Caitlin stood up to hug Bailey warmly "Grab a pew. Matt and Sue finally got together last night." she winced as a particular machine tool made a screeching noise that seemed to burrow it's way into her body. She shared a quick worried glance with Asgard before returning to talk to Bailey "Just....they got caught. I think they'll end up with NJP's, they're good for each other. What brings you out our way? You still flying that ammunition magnet? Bring us any fresh food?"

Caitlin shrugged, smiling "When you gotta do it, you gotta do it." she laughed before turning serious. "I don't have much, been out here too long." Caitlin's eyebrows furrowed in thought. "I got a couple of insignia from the Dragoons?" she risked. Cat looked around the room furtively before speaking softly. "Or... I have some real shampoo. Looks Kuritan in origin, so maybe not the best quality, but it's sealed. I was going to save it for our next down time, but way they're fixing up our little home I don't see us having any downtime for a month or more. That and the lack of running water here means it's available for trade.....if you're interested."

"If the Dragoons catch us at all, we're dead. It's not scalping per se. I wouldn't take anything off a dead body. Traded an officer we took captive in the early days. We don't lose all the battles." Cat looked almost shocked at the accusation, pausing for a moment, she held up a hand "I haven't opened it, but tell you what. I'll let you open it and decide if you want it or not, but to open it...it'll cost you some chocolate. It's about half again as big as our standard bottle, white plastic exterior and some kanji on it, superimposed over a lake and a willow tree. I'm pretty sure it's civilian....now as to whether it is good civilian, or whether it is 'the people's collective number 13' shampoo, that isn't something I know."

Cat winced as Bailey ran to the Ferret, wondering if they'd have the opportunity to talk again before they rolled out. "Godspeed Bailey." Cat turned to Ansgard "Dang! Almost scored us some dessert rats, and you kept your big mouth shut you loon. You have nothing to trade?"

Cat scooped the last of the hot gloop into her mouth, unhappy at the unappetising dinner. She thought about talking about the food she missed, but realised it'd just start everyone talking about the food they missed. She pushed the plate forward on the table with a sigh.

"So anyone else got anything interesting to share?" she asked the rest of the table.

It took the better part of the day but the R&D tech boys were done fiddling with Pegasus 411.  Truth be told she looked better than new.  The hull work seriously needed a pain job but aside from that, the damage had all be repaired, and the hull was even streamlined.

How she operated was another matter altogether.

It was late in the afternoon and you would have to be travelling all night if you were headed to your assigned sector.  To Garabaldo's knowledge there was no rush to get there so he had leeway to loiter and kill time around camp if that was his want.

"Hey now why would i want some rats? I got prime booze and ... "

And then he cringes as the tearing sound draws his gaze to his baby and his face foretells a bad storm. His white knuckles on his clenched fist telling he is considering harming someone.

"Time for that meeting."

and then he rises and stops of to the the meeting spot for the team meeting. He hoped it wasn't to tell them their unit was disbanded.

Caitlin shook her head in dismay. Some people just didn't understand. Dessert rations. She could taste them already.

"Hey I'll go grab McAlister and tell him about the meet, then I'm going to try to get as clean as the circumstances allow." Caitlin stood up, picking up her tray. "Catch you later"

Caitlin returned the tray, taking her time to get to Crispin, where she informed him of the meet at the artillery spotters watchpost. After that she managed to persuade a cook to boil up a pot with hot hot water and took it off to a bathroom where for the first time in what seemed like months she felt clean. She changed into a clean pair of fatigues and used the left over water to try to clean the pair she'd just changed out of. It might not get any cleaner, but it would wash the sweat out.

A much cleaner and happier Caitlin arrived at the artillery spotters nest. As she waited, she seemed surprised at the progress made on the Pegasus. She stood huddled in her parka with gloves on, her breath steaming out into the air as she waited for the others.

~ Caitlin ~

As Caitlin stands about looking over the new and 'improved' Pegasus 411, the other half of their hunting pair comes cruising in on a billow of air skirts.  The rush of wind cranks up the wind chill, making it just unpleasant as Harasser 412 pulls in to park by 411.

To her trained eye, 412 is a smoking wreck and it's a miracle that its limped in.  Half the air skirts were gone, bleeding air pressure and cutting down it's nimble speed.  The Turret was all but blown off, and only the exo frame that once supported the heavy armor remains.  Harsh laser scorch marks, and the crater blast marks from autocanon or missile fire gouged great chucks of armor out of the scrappy hover tanks surface.

---

~ Amos ~

Harasser 411 has seen better days.  Floating through an infantry ambush while on patrol was not a good way to start an encounter.  A pair of Panther cinched, that it was going to be one of those days.  The engagement was really short, you cut the fan to flank speed and you ran like hell, the parting trade of fire didnt go well for you at all.

Infantry SRM had penetrated the failing armor in the turret and had taken out Milo.  Its open to debate if the shrapnel killed him outright or not.  It was a moot point, because by the time you were far enough away and at a safe distance he was a goner.

Pursuit had given up on you.  411 was simply too fast to be caught by those sluggards so you did the only thing you could do.  Limp home and bury the dead.  You manage to make it to the R&D base in the late afternoon.
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:47, Wed 20 July 2011.

Caitlin's mouth dropped. She could tell it was 412 on sight, it looked as though it'd been through Hell. She assumed it was good news as he pulled into the repair bay instead of the medbay, but her heart was still in her mouth as she waited to see the crew dismount, hoping they were okay, knowing deep in her heart that something bad must have happened.

She took a step towards the bay before she realised that all she'd be doing would be rubbernecking and the Lt. was due to arrive soon. She puffed her cheeks sighing heavily into the night as she waited for the others to arrive. She was tempted to use her comms to find out what the story was, but radio discipline was something hammered into the tank crew from day one and the Dragoons had tremendous DF gear.

"The gobsheens" she whispered as a silent curse to the ones who'd shot up the Harasser. As the activity picked up around the wreck, she breathed a sigh of relief as she could see Trask getting out. Stamping her feet to keep warm, she wondered if Bailey would be back with her dessert rats tonight.
This message was last edited by the player at 17:53, Wed 20 July 2011.

>.<

My bad, start up post hiccup.  They're not both named Amos, Milo was the name of the crewman that died.

Finally crawling out of the 411 after Caitlin has come on by and he flashed her his usual smile from inside the belly of the beast he was glad that sometime he couldn't feel his arm quite right...helpd keep him from complaining about the cold but also could give him frostbite that would take more of it away if he wasn't careful.  Slowly rubbing the warmth and working the blood in the arm to the point he was satisfied he wasn't going to loose more he saw the limping form of Amos' ride.

When Milo didn't emerge from the metal coffin he whispered a quiet prayer and looked down to his own arm before shivering in the cold.  He passed a parting thanks to Albert for all the work he had done and made his way up to the hill where the rest of the crew was supposed to assemble...he could wash up later.  Not like anyone could smell in this place with the cold making everyones nose run and plug up like a bad drain.

Nodding as he made it to the top of the hill he kept it simple since no one else was there yet, "Mallory"

"McAllister" she said in acknowledgement, returning a dazzling smile to Crispin. "How bad did they mess up our tank?" she already knew the bad news, but Crispin had been working on it. She paused before adding "Shame about Milo.... how's Amos? He look ok?" before Crispin could respond, showing that she'd been watching the bay from the hill. From the way she asked, the second question was far more important to her than the first.

Grinning at her he replied, "As long as she doesn't take a hit the thing will purr like a tummy rubbed kitten in the throes of happiness after having her milk..." to which his tone changed afterwards as he continued, "...he looked like most that have lost someone close.  I gave him space rather than ask about it cause it has to be raw right now..."

Caitlin nodded, looking down the ground lost in thought. Crispin's reminder stopping her from running down the hill to go see if Amos needed company. She looked back up harumphing loudly "It hasn't been tested in combat. With that mount of heat from the electronics we'll all fry. They won't need to fire missiles at us, the microwaves from your gear will toast us all and cook off our remaining SRM's." Caitlin's ascerbic tongue lashed out, but it was barbless. She was missing her missile tubes and Crispin just reminded her of it. "You are just happy because they are indulging your fascination with all things geek. Seen the Biscuit around?"

"As matter of fact..." he started before cutting himself off and hiding a smile just to make her think that things were worse than they were.

"Nah, last I knew where he was included choice words for the guys who were installing the stuff this morning.  Dunno since then." he shrugged.

Softening his tone he suggested, "I'll see what I can do about making this fast so you can check on Amos after this.  I'm sure he would appreciate you being there..."

In reply to Pegasus (msg #36):

Amos emerged from the Harasser 412 quickly. He waved for a medic as quickly as he could. "Come on! He's lost a lot of blood." As the medics arrived he knew it was in vain. The blood loss was too great.

The driver of the 412 bent over. Amos shrugged off the medics that came to check on him. A few simple bandages would be enough for the man. But the bandages wouldn't do anything for the scars inside. He slowly got up and blinked the sand from his eyes.

Amos half stumbled away from the Harasser.

Around Amos, there was a flurry of activity as Med tech went about the business of seeing what could be done for Milo and himself, while the Mechanics went about the task of seeing just how bad 412 had been hammered in that fiasco.

He didnt have to be a fortuneteller to guess that there was going to be the not so pleasant task of breaking in a new gunner in his future.

The welcome numbing of a cold compressed is pressed against your arm, from somewhere a winter blanket is thrown over your shoulders.  It was bitterly cold now that you thought about it.  Funny a few moments ago you didnt even feel it.  Must be the shock.

You're led away from the wreckage of your tank to the dubious warmth of the mess hall and positioned with your back to 412.  You hear the familiar whooshing sound of fire extinishers going off.  Funny, you didnt notice anything being on fire.

A Eridani Nurse comes around to check you for shock and shakes her head, not looking too pleased.

"He gave me orders to stay away from the repair bay....if you think his words were choice, I would have been downright rude." Caitlin deliberately shut her mouth to avoid saying any more. She looked down the hill towards the Harasser "Fast is good, through is better. No doubt we have a lot to talk about. I just hope it's worth it." Her eyes trailed over the gouges and broken parts of the hovercraft even as the Techs started to perform triage on it. "Poor Milo, those Harassers are insane quick. I'd have put money on them making it out ahead of us. Someone must have jumped them." she turned back to look at Crispin, her voice soft as she spoke "Yeah, I'll go see him after we're done... it would be wrong not to. He might need us."

"I hope so too.  I don't need another one of these." he joked off-handedly lifting his wasted right hand and thankfully covered by the jumpsuit rest of his arm.

He mused a bit as they waited for the others, "If it works as advertized it'll be useful.  Especially against the missle crews we come up against...but I gotta learn a goat-ton of new things to make her run tip-top."

He had missed the initial commotion of the Harrasers return and came broadly smileing up the hill another bottle of booze proudly in his pocket. His smile swiftly vanishes however and the victory of his good trade is forgotten as he sees the mood on his companions faces and the wreck next to their ride.

"What happened down there? Seems she got a solid beating. Everyone made it back in one piece?"

Their faces where an answer already as was the fact that the med team where preparing a body bag.

Cat shook her head sadly "Only Trask came out. Milo... he's gone." She didn't even bother to glare at Asgard for the alcohol any more. Seemed as though everyone had their own coping mechanism for loss, so long as it didn't interfere with his job, it wasn't her place to comment.

"Damn. That sucks think he'll be okay?"

He wasn't one of the most social ones on that front After all it was part of the job and a reason he tried not to get to attached to people anymore. So changing the subject was the best way to go.

"So? Any idea what the boss wants to share with us after they mutilated our baby?"

Dinner was Mystery stew.  Everyones bowl had different 'stuff' in it.  A hodge poodge of 'stuff' to be exact.  It's hit miss if you got a 'good' bowl or a 'bad' one.  On the brightside no one has ended up hospitalized from the meal.

The crew of 411 enjoys their dinner together, join by Amos from Harasser 412.

Something seemed to be up.  Most of the 6th Recon Company was present, including what was left of it's (2) Infantry Platoons (Most of them freshly airlifted and flown in by Bailey and the rest of the company's transports).  Bailey looks a like she could use a shower, but gives Caitlin a wave and a trademark grin of good cheer before taking her hand at trying the mystery stew.

Just a glance around and you could tell the Eridani's were taking a pounding.  6th Recon was down to 80% personnel, and 60% Units.  Losses like Milo were too frequent, and orphaned drivers and gunners missing rides werent too hard to come by.  Presuming 412 wasn't canabilized for part.

Cat ended up with a mediocre mystery stew. mostly full of some chunks of a leafy vegetable. She did have one or two shreds of something meaty in it, but it seemed a little piscine to her taste. "I bet the prisoners we captured are getting better than this...... I bet the prisoners the Wolves have are getting better than this too... can we surrender?" Cat wasn't being serious it just felt like as usual the grunts were getting less. She watched the Mechwarriors eat with a hint of jealousy, until Bailey's arrival distracted her.

Reaching into her load bearing vest, she retrieved the sacred bottle of Kuritan shampoo. She wasn't strictly speaking sure it was shampoo either, it just looked like a shampoo bottle. She hoped it wasn't moisturising cream, she wouldn't trade that for a million dessert rations, but a lake, bamboo....it had to be shampoo right? She held it up as a friendly reminder to Bailey, that they still had a deal going on.

Cat looked around hoping she could get the details of what was going on from Bailey. She would know after ferrying the PBI's all day, if not then some of the guys from the other squads might know something. For them all to be in this one place and in the state they were it had to be something big.

After looking at the tank, and talking quickly to Amos, he headed to see the others.

Amos--
"You did what you could. Get some rest, grab a bite, I'm not sure what they're doing with your hot-rod, but we got a new assignment. I'll fill you in later if you're involved, I'm not even sure if they've decided yet."

Others--
"All right, here's the scoop. I'm not the tech guy so don't ask. We got new stuff that's supposed to make us the electronic captiol of the periphery. We lost a lot of space to put this crap in, and it's supposed to work like a charm. We might even be going up to brigade support with this stuff.

"Problem is, we're losing. Strategy now is, 'hold ground', instead of 'run into meat grinder'. We've been assigned an area, we basically hide in it and mount sorties. We're going to be a lot more independant than we were. Of course, we're also guinea pigs. I won't sugar coat it, this stuff has never been field tested, we're losing weapons I think we need more than this EW crap, and they might not even be able to get us food and ammo when we need it. They're talking weekly drops.

"We've got a place staked out, and everything looks as rosy as it can be. I still want to bring the hunting rifle just in case they don't get that weekly drop on time..." Eveyone knows, his sniper bolt-action rifle with the night vision scope is lovingly referred to as 'the hunting rifle'. This might be the first time he actually meant hunting for food, though...

(OOC: Presume anything I forgot is included in the briefing.)

He rolled his eyes.

"So we are supposed to become happy campers and the tear out all the room we got? So who is gonna operate the EW crap? Caitlin? She has less to shoot with now anyhow."

He chuckles sourly and makes a mental note to make sure to get a decent stash of booze he is sure won't be in the weekly drops. He hated being sober.

"I would be your resident crap operator Asgard" grinned Crispin as he slowly chewed on a piece of gum savoring the little taste that it did have.

"Look on the bright side Cap.  You just admitted you don't know when they will be able to get us more ammo, let alone food, so cutting down on what uses ammo will mean you have less to worry about since we all know the drop by the mass.  It may not be as bad as some House units but unless the paperwork catches up fast they will drop us more ammo than we can use and we'll have to stockpile it under cover."

"As for the Crap it will work fine as long as we don't take a good hit..." shooting an eye over to her driver, "...the faster you move the better since it certainly won't slow down the EW."

'Official' Orders are a little sketchy.

The Sixth Recon company is to work out of their assigned sector and 'harass' the enemy.  Most of the heavy Combat is suppose to be shouldered by the Mechs of the unit.

The infantry platoon provide ground security and lookouts for trouble to keep it secure.

The Conventional vehicles are there to support mech activities, and Transport for the Cavalry.

Current status of the company is found here...
link to a message in this game

The Mech and Infantry units have their own chain of command and work with Captain Garabaldo.  Captain Garabaldo directly commands Pegasus 411, Harasser 412, (2) Ferrets, (2) Hover APC, and (4) Track APC


Game Master note:  Since were adding Harraser 412, presuming we dont find another player, Tony can shuffle the Liason officer over to the Harrasser.
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:02, Thu 21 July 2011.

Caitlin kicked Asgard under the table with a scowl. "Like I have the time to mess around with EW while I'm shooting, it's not like driving you know. I have to stay focussed. Mcalister will handle all of that, he's mostly useless anyway."

Caitlin went quiet after her outburst. It was something of a long standing rivalry between her and Asgard, her response was almost automatic. Caitlin was concerned about the state of events.

"Captain, without SRM's we're toast. They're our only real equalizer. Between us and 412 we only have one weapon that doesn't require ammunition. If they can't resupply us... we're going to be in a very bad situation and that doesn't say much about our needs for armour. The new gear might be good and all, but new means it breaks a lot. If it breaks down, we need to fix it, without these techs around... which means it's dead weight because without techs and supplies to fix it, it will become broken."

---

Old Render of Pagan, some stuff needs to be changed to fit in the campaign but i think i can reuse this characters for the function she'll be filling.

http://artzone.daz3d.com/azfil...i8h3gp4pqxz-full.jpg
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:33, Thu 21 July 2011.

"This would be our civilian we don't want or need. She will babysit us and the gear, and send back reports of how lousy we're doing, and how the gear would be doing just dandy if we didn't screw it up.

"Miss Kelswa," he said, looking at her, "I want to get one thing clear at the outset. You do what I say, when I say, how much I say. If I say jump now, you don't stop to ask how high, you just jump as high as you can."

He ignores her and continues. "I know, Cat. Except for the part about the techs not being around. Forgot to tell you the good news, there. We need ammo no question, and food, and everything else they ripped out. I politely referred the same question up the chain, and I was just as politely told too F'in bad. We do what we can, and hope our civ tech girl can keep up and knows what radio, sound, and light disipline are.

"Do you?" he asked, looking pointedly at her.

Cat puffed her cheeks in dismay at the news the Captain brought. Looks like they were being told they were on their own. Realising this might be their last hot meal in a very long time, Cat stood up, ready to head to the chow line to get a second helping of mystery stew, she was curious what the answer to the Captains question might be, she settled back into her seat.

"If she's never been embedded in a tanker crew before, I can help bring her up to speed. Only thing she needs to spend a lot of time on is to practice bailing out in case we get a mobility or ammo hit."

"Hmph," he grumped. "While all true, you are a civilian going into battle. You may be the employer, but I don't work for employers that do stupid things. If they had sent me a big idiot, he would probably accidentally fall out of the tank at some inopportune time. You do not appear to be that big idiot, and as such, you will realize it is my job to keep everyone alive. What I say, goes. I do not plan on making idiotic requests. I will even listen to your suggestions, should there be time. But there will be only one commander, and you are not it. When you are ordered- er, requested urgently- to do something, and it is not done, expect repercussions. I do not expect us to have many problems, so far you seem a civil and likable person. I despise you being here and the entire mess we're in now, but none of that is your doing. Personally, we may get along smashingly, maybe. But there is no room in a tank for more than one commander. I do not expect full military discipline from you. But there will be radio silence, light dampening, and noise suppression when called for, this much I expect and I expect you to keep all three down unless you're certain it is all right.

"I think I will assign Caitlin as your go-to person. If you have questions, ask her. I try to treat all of my command with respect and dignity. i apologize if I have annoyed you in that manner. You are not the usual cadre, and I am not glad for your arrival, as gifted or pleasing as you might be. I hope you do not take this personally, it is more of an argument between me and my commander than anything to do with you personally.

"To sum up- I don't want to rub you the wrong way. You will do as requested, and I will only request sensible and dignified things. Sorry I have been so wordy, but this whole thing has me all worked up."

Which is a lot to say- that's probably the biggest speech anyone's heard him give in a year, he's being really nice to her. Last time someone complained about taking orders, it was a marine who was 'requested' to man the gun on one of the APCs. He didn't think it was his job to be a 'tanker'. Another marine was glad for the job, though, as he watched his buddy walking next to the APC the rest of the day.

Caitlin shut her mouth, one of the rare occasions in which she did so. She knew better than to say anything when the Captain was laying down the law. Especially to an outsider that could influence their pay packet. She closed her mouth figuring out what she'd need to teach her before things would be safe inside the hovertank.

Amos took a bowl of the special stew. If anyone else would have tasted it, they would claim that it contained real meat. But to Amos' it was bland and needed to be washed down with something strong.

---

~ Amos ~

The captain was having it out with some civilian and was working out immediate orders for the 6th Recon company.
This message was last edited by the GM at 13:23, Fri 22 July 2011.

"No Ma'am, ..... I'm the gunner. Mallory. McAlister is the scruffy one across the table. He's the geek, I apologise Ma'am, the electronics specialist, I'm sure you'll be in heaven talking to him. Asgard, our driver is the part man part carpet sitting over there." Caitlin paused looking back equally puzzled. "Why on Terra would you be thinking that I am the electronics officer so?"

Crispin chuckled as much at Tony's soliloquy as he did at Pagan's linking of names to the wrong people and offers a side comment, "The Cap must have taken a real liking to ya, he never says that much to any of us."

Looking over to Caitlin he added playfully, "Hey now I keep this nicely trimmed as you well know since I don't want to start looking like Asgard over there.  Some may not tend to their hygiene as much as others but I certainly do..."

Caitlin nodded, letting out an long expressive "oh" in understanding. She realised that the woman had no taste for mixing with the likes of her. Probably due to the fact she was enlisted, or a mercenary or both, and the Lt was an attractive ladies man. Her demeanour towards the Davion woman changed to be a consummate professional. "I'm sure the Captain has his reasons Ma'am. I know you will be working with the Lt. on the EW gear, but he's going to be too busy to answer all of your other questions, so you ask me instead of bothering him. Have you ever been a part of the crew on a Pegasus before, Ma'am? Have you ever been embedded with any armoured crew before? Consider me as your chaperon on the tank, until you're capable enough to handle things on your own. After we're done here, we'll go through your gear to see what you are planning to take and what we can actually take."

Caitlin rolled her eyes when the Lt mentioned the magical word. Hygiene. She swore that the Dragoons could find 411 by smell alone.

This message was last edited by the GM at 16:47, Fri 22 July 2011.

"I think we have a rough understanding," he nodded. "Cat pretty much hit it in one- if he's working EW stuff, he isn't going to be available for other stuff. And she looks like she likes you, so by being nice, she got stuck with you. Someone has to do it, and she was even smart enough to think of U-A drills when I forgot about them. Doing what she shows you might save your life." He introduces everyone around.

"You're going to be living close to these people. Closer than you like, trust me. When you smell what someone had for breakfast, and know how hard they were working the last hour, you'll know why hygiene is a sore topic. Lucky for us, there's a chance our little base might have something to help there, that the other suckers might not have. I'm not real sure how secret all of this is supposed to be yet, so let's go somewhere more private before we get into any more detailed discussions.

"I want all talk of the performance and capabilities of this system to be considered restricted. I haven't had any orders one way or the other on this yet, but there's no sense letting some mole do his job on something this important. In fact, we should probably keep most of the talk about it at all on Q.T. Unless I miss my guess, shortly we'll be going over to our base and there won't be anyone there to worry about anyhow."

"Asgard- see if you can't get at least a couple extra of those canvas drinking water bags before we bug out, and make sure you req too much camo netting and tarps. Some tubing and valves would be handy, I know you're going to have a lot of that available. We'll pack it in a crate to ship out on a VTOL later, your still can go in there, too. I don't want it in the 'important stuff' shipments, and I know it'll get there somehow, I might as well get it on the right train. Mark it 'Stage 2 Supplies'. I got a plan, and I'd suggest you all trade for any soap or shampoo you get just in case it works."

This message was last edited by the GM at 19:21, Fri 22 July 2011.

He was having a defty plate of the mystery stew and when the civilian was introduced as a new member he muttered something foul into his beard quite obviously not liking the idea at all. His thoughts about it where not spoken out loud though the Captains speech conjured a smile on his face. He was no fan of babysitting in a warzone regardless of who it was.

When he spotted Amos sitting down not to far away he placed his canteen on the table and shoved it over to him. It was a public secret Gregory liked booze and he rarely had water in his canteen. And when their eyes met he mouthed. "you need it more." ad gave him a grin only to be distracted as he was being introduced as carpet and lacking hygiene. And as he grins and scratches his beard he replies.

"Look i'm running a shelter for the homeless fleas and lice. With all those mech pilots that are getting killed thats hard work. And my guests don't like the cheap shampoo as it stings in their eyes. And next to that now they are replacing guns with civilians we can hope our stink is enough to make the enemy teary eyed and we can use that as a weapon. Besides it isn't even Christmas."

It was all exaggeration of coarse he brushed his teeth every morning and changes socks each day and his beard was his bride and rather well groomed. By the time the Captain started to give 'orders' he nods gives a short salute and gets onto his feet.

"I will see what i can get sir. I was thinking of making some straps on the outside we can use to stow some extra gear on that won't fit inside. Probably not the best option for combat but it allows us to carry some extra supplies off."

Caitlin nodded her assent to the Captains orders. "Yes, sir, no idle chat 'bout the yoke. Can I ask for delousing powder for Asgard? I think we went through our annual requisition in three weeks." Cat grinned at the driver. "Or I could be shaving that fur off your face with me knife. We all know the only reason you're keeping it as an emergency ration store. You keep losing half your dinner in it."

Caitlin stood up quickly dancing out Greg's reach as she went to fill up her mess kit with some more mystery stew as they were about to move somewhere more private to talk over the mission orders. Caitlin wondered how it was possible to eat something hot and still feel chilled to the bone. She watched the scientist move off into the background, he wondered if the reason the boss wanted the chat in private was that they were under orders to top her if it looked like she was about to be captured.

Shaking her head at the grim realities of modern warfare and at the fact all she could see was the more cynical side of things, Cat got a refill and joined the others. She started thinking about all the kit the scientist would need and probably didn't have.

"I meant private for our team," he said, looking at Pegan. "Much as I dislike it, you're part of the team. You're not required, but you're not forbidden, either. We'll be talking military tactics and such, and I don't expect there'll be much need for your input, yet. Things are too vague to go beyond 'stop them from seeing us with the new gear' right now, I think."

~ Tony ~
Sectors are doled out for each Company to populate and work from.  Logistics will be shakey and maintained by the units stash of VTOLs.  Aero Support is non existant, Artillary support exist but munitions for fire missions is going to be difficult.  If youre calling for it, it better be for something important.

Initial supplies will be whatever the companies can carry out with them, and two karnovs loaded with whatever the company commanders believe they might need.  Most locations have water of some sort available to them reducing the complications for logistics.  Food and parts for repairs are another thing.

All the unit commanders are made aware of various units being fitted out with 'stuff'.  Some of the mechs from one of the Eridani's company was fitted out with some double strength heat sinks.  Infantry from one of the company's was equiped with some sort of portable turret system to field test, and of course 6th Company's Pegasus was fitted out with experimental EW.

Each company has a Davion liason responsible for observing the success (or lack) of the new equipment.  Arrangements are made to integrate each liason officer in the various units.  Its observed that Harasser 412, is short a man now and that it made sense to have Tony command from it, which would leave more room for the Liason officer to work with the new EW equipment.

---

~ Everyone else ~
The mystery soup was tastier than most people were use to.  Dessert was something no one expect.  Fresh (or at least it tasted that way) Corn Bisque was being served in small bowns with a bit of corn bread for the rank and file.  It's warm, and it's good, and it's recognizable as real food.  It's also carefully rationed and heads are counted to make sure no one gets back on line for seconds.

Military branches being what they are, the mechwarriors linger by themselves, the Infantry are off to the side socializing, leaving the tankers of course at their own table.

The crews for the various vehicles used by the 6th are all present.  Pegasus 411, Harraser 412, (2) VTOL pilots, and half a dozen drivers for the units APC's.

In reply to Gregory Asgard (msg #73):

The steel canteen scrapped on the plasteel table. Amos turned and reached out to stop the canteen before it hit him. His eye's flared. But Amos calmed down as he saw Gregory. He nodded slowly as he opened the canteen.

Amos didn't need to guess what the contents were inside the canteen. Gregory usually had the good stuff. Amos had his own stash, but it was gone when the Harasser met the wrong end of a machine gun. He drank deeply from the canteen and emptied it. "Arrraaah"

Amos didn't really pay attention to the Captain or the new civilian. He figured that he'd learn more if it was important.

"HEY YOU!"

He calls out as he throws a playful punch at Caitlin dancing away.

"At least i got some spare rations when you people are about to starve."

As he goes for the Desert that seems to make quite a stir he grins ear to ear and as he passes Amos he gives the man a pat on the shoulder and snags his empty canteen in a wordless condolence and show off support before he gets in line.  He is munching on the last bits as he makes his way to requisitions.

"One night, when I'm hungry.....I'll cut it all off and live on it for a few months." the smile disappeared as the Captain called order and they started talking seriously about the implications of the new system installed. She decided to sit beside Amos to show him he was part of the family, without any need to say anything.

Toying at her mystery stew, her mood was lightened. The loss of firepower was a serious concern, but the EW gear might help more than one of them live, and the Pegasus was fast enough that few Mechs aside from those damned locusts could hope to keep up with it. The quick glance over her shoulder to the repair bay and the Harasser Milo had been in stood as a stark reminder anything can happen. She was surprised and relieved to see bright sparks around the Harasser. They'd made the decision to bring it back. Cat smiled to herself. Milo's spirit would be with it. She was certain of that. For as long as 412 would be around, a little bit of Milo would hold on.

"They're repairing the Harasser. We're going to use it as a sort of fighting command vehicle. Apparently, they're actually thinking of putting me in charge of more stuff, poor bastards. Things must really be going downhill for that," he winked.

"With all these guys expecting drops at least once a week, scattered all over, the VTOLs are gonna be busy. That means, no air support. Hell, we'll be lucky if they don't get shot down and then we'll have no supplies.

"Any requests for what to fill the lockers with, or to strap outside? If it doesn't interfere, and fits under a camo net, I don't care what you put on the outside, for the first trip anyhow. Realize it has a real good chance of getting blown to hell, though. Don't put anything too important there.

"I'm thinking of limiting the locker space to a certain amount, or maybe one item, or something. I'd like to keep it all for food, but that's not possible. I'm going to be bringing the hunting rifle, I think it may be a necessity later, so it's probably going inside."

He asks Pegan (if she's still here), "How big are your tools?"

"Great. Too bad we can't get more stuff on that ride.

"Anyone have anything else for our liason? I'm ready to cut her loose, if she wants to U-A."

"I don't, or at least nothing to add that has not been said already." she nodded in acknowledgement to the scientist. "See down at your new home once we're done here, Ma'am."

Tucking into her seconds of mystery stew, Caitlin listened intently while the others talked about the EW capabilities. Personally, she was dubious of the benefits. Two Starsteak SRM-6's, the finest killing machines known to man, to be replaced by some unknown manufacturers SRM-4's. Caitlin half expected to see baling wire and chewing gum holding it together. She'd avoided going to the hovercraft in the vain hope of blotting out the damage from her mind.

"How much power is all of this EW gear going to take? will it short out my targeting scope...or worse the laser?"

Crispin waited to see if Pegan would pipe up with her assessment first or defer to him since he had been running the EW before her arrival.  In any case he kept his ears open for any insightful pieces of information that she might let slip that would alow him to figure out more about it when he started using the gear.

The stew wasn't bad for mystery stew...nothing like what he got back home of course but then again nothing that the military served, merc or house, would compare to it.  There of course would be more than enough questions for her when they were on the move but those could wait and wouldn't help out anyone else in the unit except for himself.

---

This message was last edited by the GM at 20:19, Wed 27 July 2011.

"Its a stand alone system right? Its not going to fry all stuff along with itself when it does."

He asks slightly worried about the whole fry issue.

"What will you do with your stuff once we are stationed? Or forced to evac? I think its unwise to drag in more then we can carry."

"I just spent most of my day with the guys that were putting it in, and yeah it's stand alone.  Tied into the power of course," looking over to Caitlin he added, "I think that with the downgrade in missile racks there shouldn't be any spikes that would mess up your baby's juice either in targeting or firing.  It's much more likely that anything else on the 411 will spike and short-circuit the EW gear."

"Only thing that I'm sure of though is that it can fry itself..." winked Crispin as he looked back over at Pegan.

It wasnt even dawn yet.  It was that pitch black hour just before the dawn that the 6th Recon Company was mobilizing and on the move.  The company's mechs were being deployed for operations, leaving it's conventional units to schlep the gear out to their new base of operations.

It was a quick convoy of units.  Ten light vehicles in all, none of you slugs waiting to be picked off.  The sun was out by the time you made the location.  The infantry platoons quickly offloaded.  1st Platoon began a sweep of the area while 2nd Platoon began offloading the equipment.  411,412 and the APCs were hidden under varioius rock over hangs to avoid aerial recon and camo netting was thrown over them to help foil visual id on the ground.

---

~ Harraser 412 ~
The ride in went off like clockwork.  No patrols were encountered and the intel indicated that no satellites were around to sit on their shoulder.  The ferrets hand landed well ahead of the convoy, dropping off two full squads of men to secure the perimeter for the rest of the ground units.  No complications, at least not yet.

~ Pegasus 411 ~
The ride in was a concern for some, and fun exploration for others.  Relearning what was done and adjusting for new quirks in the system made Caitlin and Gregory jumpy.  None of the problems were breaking, and some old problems were fixed.  That didnt mean they couldnt explain to Pagan about every little new problem that came along since the EW installation.

Crispin on the other hand is having a grand old time with the new equipment.  There are elements of the equipment that Pegan tries to explain to him, that he just doesnt get.  Oddly enough Caitlin knows a bit about some of the stuff she's discussing with Crispin.  The lingo and theory from her days in the scouts not too long ago helping her out now.

Once the ride is over and 411 is parked, Pegan follows the crew out to look around.  She has a non-plussed look about her as she looks around.  She's wearing a sidearm and the standard issue vest and helmet, but she looks very much not like a soldier.

"Well you haven't messed her up to badly. IF she performs like this in combat i can live with it civvy."

He gives her a smile that should be comforting but more looks like a predator showing its fangs to an uninvited guest in its territory as a warning. Giving his baby a comforting pat on the metal shell as he gets out after parking her he looks around the camp being set up.

"Well seems this place is nice and cozey i wonder where the bar is."

Cat lifted her goggles up so they were resting on the front of her helmet. The one patch of skin on her that was still pristine and pink was the area covered by the goggles. "Down by the beachhouse, to the right of the barbecue, if you reach the pool you've gone too far."

Cat turned to look at the Scientist. She stuck out like a sore thumb, it'd lessen in time, but she was not a tanker. "Ma'am, relax. We're safe here until they spot us, and tis inevitable that at some point they'll spot us. Just grab a rock and sit down. In the meantime, I'll get a brew started."

Cat moved under the tarp over the rear of the tank, still painfully hot to the touch. after the journey. Reaching into her pack she brought out her pack, setting out the stove, under a rock overhang so as not to be directly visible to the satellites passing overhead. Cat put some water on the boil, putting tea leaves into it, to flavour the brew. "Need to make it last, but tis a tradition. Tea eases the soul."

Pegasus base was very much not alot to look at.  It was going to be home for a while though.  Space was going to be tight for the units needs, and the over hang to hide the vehicles was less cover than hoped for.  There was space for all the APC's but no room left over for 411 and 412.

Infantry were putting up netting along the perimeter of the rock out hanging too obscure the APC's while another pair were being thrown over 411 and 412, parked nearby.  Eridani infantry squads had come out the cave and reported that the area was 'clear'.  The room furthest east (to the right) of the cave had a dug out well to access water.  Three natural caverns were dug out by Militia engineers and an path from the 'main' room to the over hang had been dug out.

1st and 2nd's Infantry Lt's were checking with Captain Garabaldo to see what he wanted done.

---

The base is on the foot of a mountain's south side.  Beyond the base, is grassy plains, allowing for excellant visibility for look outs.  The Eridanis approach the base along the graveled area at the foot of the mountain to avoid leaving easy to spot paths through the grassy area south of the base.  There is a small well in the cavern structure allowing the base fresh water that doesnt have to be flown in.  Its a little brackish, but the medic says it's tested clean and drinkable.

The map is blank at the moment.

Presume an APC takes up 10' x 20' space.
Presume 412 takes up 15' x 20'.
Presume 411 takes up 15' x 25'.

scale 1sq = 5'
http://artzone.daz3d.com/azfil...353966hjkq0-full.jpg
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:57, Thu 28 July 2011.

Crispin was grinning ear to ear as he pulled himself out of the 411 hauling his loadpack out with him.  He may have some special gear and he himself was pretty special when it came to the work that surgeons had done on him but the new EW gear was amazing.

'So much to learn while I still will be able to perform all the basic functions with four times the efficiency' thought Crispin as he looked for a good spot to temporarily situate his pack.  Looking around he got an idea and pulled his noteputer out to head back into the 411 to recall the mapping that the specialized gear had taken readings of to make an ultra-accurate map of the immediate area so that when the Captain decides to issue orders to the infantry and others his holomap can be useful to his planning in allowing 3-dimensional assist.

Cat crouched over the stove making sure the brew was steadily boiling. For her it was a tradition, something she'd learned at her academy, something which used to be done by soldiers when tanks were just invented. Anytime you have somewhere quiet and can dismount the tank, You need to start the tea brewing. That way once you string the netting and set up the camp you have a nice refreshing and hot drink to start the day with.

The ride over here was pleasant enough, and she overheard enough of the conversation between the Lieutenant and the Davion girl that she thought she might be able to do something with the EW kit if the Lt ever ended up out of commission. She hoped that might never come to pass. She motioned for everyone to come grab a cup of the tea as it reached the boil.

Base camp was very raw, but the Engineers had picked out a good spot.  The Depressed overhang would be perfect cover, and presuming a few vehicles were out on patrol, would make certain all the units part at the base would be well camoflauged.  The mechs were going to be anoter story.  They were too tall and weren't going to fit under the overhang.  That was a problem that was going to need some resolving eventually.

Captain Garabaldo was quick to assign a couple of Squads into the field to set up a perimeter while two more were on over watch closer to the base.  The rest of the men were busy unpacking equipment to convert the base from unfriendly ice box to something resembling a command center.

Amos was quiet and withdrawn he had ridden in with the Captain, but was rather quiet and not particularly socialable at the moment.

The rest of the crew of 411 and 412 wwere camped out near the vehicles.  They were excused for the moment, from any serious labour, but that was sure to change eventually when the captain noticed idle hands in the area.  Caitlin passed around the tea which the rest of the crew accepted, knowing her little quirk about toasting to a new base of operation.

Pegan took the drink with a nod.  It was military tradition, and one she hadnt heard of before.  She was never a fan of tea, prefering coffee, but in the climate anything warm was welcome.

"Thank you Caitlin.", she commented quietly accepting her share of the tea.  She was watching Amos at the moment with a thoughtful expression.

"Is he going to be okay?  Military units get close knit, and i'm sure losing Milo was like losing family.  A day hardly seems enough time to grieve and recover from it."

"Tis hard to say really. You have the right of it. When you work beside someone for so long and under adverse conditions such as the ones we are under, crew are more than friends, they're almost family." Cat looked over to where Amos had been walking around. "Losing anyone is hard, hard for us even, but to Amos, he lost someone close.... I don't see any of the danger signs, Ma'am. He's quiet, introspective, but he's tracking, not aimless. There a time he'll be ready to talk about it, but it's not now."

Cat looked around to see where the others were from the sides of her eyes, as she handed the Davion liaison another tin mug full of tea, knowing she was going to go straight to Hell for being manipulative. "I'm thinking Amos might be welcoming a cup of tea, Ma'am. If you could be so kind as to take it to him?" She held up the cup, managing to look and sound completely natural and innocent.

Pegan glances at Caitlin as she breaks her train of thought, "Hm?  Certainly."

Pegan accepts the extra tin cup of tea and moves off to offer it to Amos.

"Hey, Private Malloy, thought you might be cold and find a tin of tea desireable considering the climate.", Pegan arrives looking pretty clueless and 'civil' in a place where civility really has no place being.  She was looking an awful lot like a bullet catcher.

"Thanks," he says, grabbing a cup of tea. "Good tea, makes it so you're not completely worthless and lazy," he said with a smile. "However, that sentiment does not encompass the lot of you, one cup of tea is almost enough to get one person not yelled at. Get moving and dig a position, camo these hunks of metal, and that other PiTA stuff you been taught since you were wee fledglings." He looks at Pegan, and says more politely, (and quiet enough where Amos doesn't hear) "I want you to wear the body armor at all times unless Cat decides it's safe. That means you have to ask to take a shower. Last thing I want is one of the boss' helpers blown into itsy bitsy pieces. You get yourself shot up, and dying will be the least of your problems, I'll make the grim reaper wait until I'm through with you."
This message was last edited by the player at 20:50, Sun 31 July 2011.

Gregory laughs as the Lt makes his comment at the lady bout the grim reaper and takes a swig of the tea that is just to hot to down in one go.

"Such a ladies man Sir."

He laughs again salutes and dives into the tank to take out the nets they brought and starts working on making a nice parking and camping spot next to his girl.

Pulling the technical information from a unit as complex as the EW suit was and making it compatible with his noteputer and the holo-mapping software and projector was going to be a longer term project it seemed.  He needed to come up with some sort of bridge that didn't quite exist yet...at least for a computer as limited as his noteputer was.

He knew they were enjoying some tea out in the cold but for the moment the 411 was more than welcoming with its remaining internal heat as he did his work.  He'd join them in a few as he did the last runs of data stream that he could work with for the holo-map.

Cat rolled her eyes to herself as she remained poised over the pot containing the brew. She looked up to the sky muttering a silent epithet as she continued stirring the brew to make it stronger. Some women just didn't get it, she muct have had her head stuck in books since she was two.

"I wonder if it'll start snowing soon. We got any data on weather conditions? Does this planet even get snow?" Cat grinned as the Captain told her she might get some time off for putting on the tea, though she knew in five minutes she'd be digging a trench to sleep in near the Pegasus.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:29, Tue 02 Aug 2011.

"Yeah," he sais, looking for all the briefing data he had. They should know just by experience, but Cat was right, they have inteligence on all of this stuff.

Popping his head out of the hatch of the tank Crispin held his noteputer with wires dangling from its side trailing back into the 411.  Attaching the SatNav receiver and Holomap to it he projected out a three dimensional image of the immediate terrain as was known both previously from his existing chip and what data he could add from the complicated EW suite.

"Cap here's our greater area with us sitting right here..." his finder poking though the holographic image to situate his mind.

"Cool... That's the stuff working somehow I can relate to. All that other stuff, is kinda esoteric, you know?"

"If I'm lucky, and have some help from Pegan I might be able to make the image realtime when we have the 411's EW active.  Might give us an edge, might not...chances are though it will overload the processors on this tiny thing so I won't be able to give you a comprehensive live feed tactical map of the region but if we capure some better gear or they send it our way we might be able to hobble something together...still it's better than that crap flat-map we got..." Crispin replied a little ruefully.  The new stuff was amazing but without a greater and more powerful interface for the data feeds it wouldn't be as useful in the middle of things.  Survive long enough though and it could be useful as a training aid sometime down the road.

"Don't work on it too hard," he said. "Wouldn't do anyone much good locked in your tin can, when someone else is needing to see it, anyhow. Nice work what you did get, though." He looks at the friendly positions marked, and is pretty impressed. "Those things aren't even powered up and it shows them..."

A week passes faster than you really care to admit.  The more equipment is flown in or trucked in quietly than you had intially hoped.  Solar chargers are bought in to run the space heaters in the cave.

Watches are set up, and rotated among the infantry squads.  Two or Three vehicle are out at any particular time, to keep a roaming patrol of the area.  The ferrets make dusk and twilight flights in and out of the base to avoid attracting attention.  The APC's form similiar supply convoys, departing at late in the evening and returning just before dawn.

Provisions and munitions are stocked, and a week later, the caves start to feel like something approaching a base instead of a hole in the wall.  The Christmas ceasefire was still a few days away, but the Combine and Dragoons were pretty comfy and good with letting the Eridani and Militia freeze in the snow while they kept closer patrols to home and warm bases.

"All right, team, gather 'round. You too, Pegan."

He pulls some small boxes out of a duffel, and hands some out. "Call me Santa. Christmas came early this year. Mostly, because I expect someone's going to break the cease fire, and our celebration is going to be cut short, so I want you done with it soonest. I know, sorry about the attitude, but my real present I want to give all of you, is another Christmas next year. This stuff cost me, but you guys are worth it." He looks at Pegan, and adds, "Yes, even you. You do your job well, it's not your fault I don't particularly like the reason you're here." (OOC: Let me know how much it cost me, probably black market, I'll deduct it from my funds.)

He passes the boxes out, and they contain candy, chocolate, coffee, and Cat's has some tea. Then he pulls out a larger box and says, "Anyone got an idea to make this cold?" The red, white, and blue labeling of the box declare it "Budweiser". How an arms manufacturer ever got into the business of making beverages is hard to say, but their brand was one of the better ones.

Xmas presents (within reason) will cost you nothing.  It's xmas, i'm not scrooge.  Presume any cost will be deducted from your first pay check if i think youre over the top extravagant. :P

Caitlin grinned shrieking with delight at tea and chocolate. "Thank you sir. If you can hold on for a minute, I'll get my presents for you all too." Caitlin went back to the pegasus and after around 5 minutes she returned, pulling out a gift for each of the crew from her pack. Each present was superbly wrapped in a box, and tied up with bows. Each almost a work of art.

Christmas presents
Greg - A cutthroat razor sellotaped to a bottle of whiskey (commercial, but from Skye, so good)

Crispin - A self help book on how to meet and get on with women along with a IOU for a subscription to a geek magazine when things get more civilised.

Captain - A lure for the mythical haggis beast on Skye, plus a music disk of Skye folk music

Amos - 4 tins of delux freshly caught haggis, a farmers almanac for the new year, and a small framed photo of him and Milo in front of the Harasser when times were good.

Bailey - A caricatured sketch done by the best artist in the company of her standing in front of her VTOL. Along with a promissory note to turn it into nose art.

Davion Liaison - A shawl in the Tamar Pact tartan.

Pegan frowns and complains that it's early, and she hasnt had time to wrap anything.  When presents are being exchanged she goes to one of her tool box, and brings it over to present her share of presents.

She presents Tony with a holovid recording of the classic italian musical opera 'Carmen'.
(Any opera worth mentioning worth mention was done by the Italians)

She gives Crispin a noteputer chip, with the beta user manual on the experimental EW system they're working on as well as a pirate eye patch.  She's  certain that at the rate he's going, he'll eventually need it.

She gives Gregory a cartoon of cigarettes, after extracting a promise from him not to smoke them in 411 where she has to suffer dealing with them in the close confines of the tank.

Bailey and Caitlin both got copies of the latest top selling trashy romance novel from Canopus.  Its a sappy action romance, about a thick headed solaris mech jock, and his equally stubborn technician and the intrigues they suffer together as they try to work their way to the top of the solaris arena rankings.

Pegan got Amos a rabbits foot, one could never have too much luck out in the field.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:43, Fri 05 Aug 2011.

"Haggis hunting. Yeah, we'll have to do that. Looks like someone can bag one", motions at Amos' gift of haggis, "so I guess I can have a go. Thanks. Now Amos is gonna have to listen to this folksy stuff whether he likes it or not." He smiles, probably meaning he was just joking.

"Wrap? The only one wraps anything around here is Cat, and there's no telling where she got her art supplies from, either. Lord knows I haven't seen any ribbon since before I even hit this planet." Looking at the opera, he says, "Looks like I actually need to learn Italian, now." he winks. "But you got the right idea, if it's Italian, it's gotta be good. Unless it's politics, the few all-Italian colonies I heard about had more governments than population. I sure hope Amos likes folk music and opera... Thanks."

He tanked the Captain for the gifts not really beeing a sweet tooth the presents where good stuff to trade later for things he really liked. And there was the thing of that gift horse to. He clearly liked the bigger crate though.

"Thank you Sir. And the only problem i can see with that crate is it won't last long enough anywhere we can keep it cold."

The man known for his seemingly endless supply of booze and ever smoking cigarette clearly appreciated the gifts of Whiskey wasting no time to take a sample.

"Good stuff indeed. Now this is what warms a mans hearth. Thank you love."

The promise not to smoke THOSE cigarettes was one he didn't like to make but seeing how hard the stuff was to get by at times he agreed and also gave Pegan a hug.

"Youre not to bad for a civvie. Just make sure the boss allows for a smoke break every 15 minutes."

He gets up and grabs his duffel bag.

"I guess its my turn now."

He starts with giving Caitlin the cross-hair of an antique rifle on a silver chain.

"With less weapons to shoot i assumed you could use a talisman that makes sure the few shots you got at least hit their target."

He grins widely and takes a field guide from his bag. 'The Pegasuss inside and out' and hands it to Pegan.

"To make sure you know the finer details of the lady once we are in the field alot."

It had all kinds of notes in it that where mostly of a comical nature. Next an issue of Army girls undressed in actual paper format and showing quite some wear is handed to Tony.

"We all know the ladies avoid the Captains sleeping bag sir. So this should keep you warm. I can reccomend the redhead on page 14."

He grins broadly as he takes the next thing a worn box of a kids electronical experiment kit and hands it to Crispin.

"Seeing how you are locking yourself up inside to play with all those electronics i assumed it might be nice to have you this so you can play outside a little and i finally get some rest when taking a nap behind the wheel."

and finally he grabs a canteed from his bag and tosses it at Amos. Its one of his trademark unlabeled distilled things.

"Liquid comfort is always good isnt it?"

He grins and plucks a smoke from his freshly received cartoon and offers it to the rest.

"Thanks," he said, "I do like redheads. Say- do you think Pegan knows, she probably coulda got you to stop smoking any cigarettes in the tank?" He asks with a mischievous grin.

He laughs and shakes his head.

"She aint that cute capt'n. I need my smokes or my hands go all shakey and we dont want that on the road do we?"

"Oh, I don't know. She's mighty cute, and she didn't ask you, so we may never know. Besides, I have a strong inclination to believe the whole shaking thing is a myth, but I have a stronger inclination to not find out when we need your hands steady. I'm just surprised Cat hasn't offed you and requested a non-smoking replacement."

Cat blinked in mock spurprise. "I.....I can do that sir? Hold still Asgard." she grinned in appreciation at the gifts, being touched deeply by each and every one. The necklace she put on immediately as a good luck talisman. "Maybe tomorrow"

"No. No, you can't do that while we're exchanging gifts, so good call."

Crispin may be good at a host of things but gift giving was never his strong suit.  He smiled and nodded thanking each person for their small gifts and the humor that was inherent in each one.

For Cat he had decided that since she considered him a geek he would gift like one and he produced a modeling kit with all the supplies needed to assemble and paint it: An unblemished 44th scale Pegasus still mounting the 6-racks and a holochip that had the 411 in color 3D before the modifications, "So you don't forget what she was like before they started playing with her"

For Tony he laughed when Pegan had given him the eyepatch for he had found an antique telescoping monocular that was housed in a darkened bronze sheath lending itself to a different age.  Though in this case it could still be quite useful as while the casing was antique the focusing lenses were some of the finest magnifying glass that he could find.  As much as digital enhancement was wonderful there were times that the naked eye could see things that digital just couldn't quite get as he tossed the case it was held in to Tony, "For those times you just want to say 'Arrrr matey, fire the broadsides and make that seadog walk the plank..."

For Asgard he had planned long before the the invasion had even begun and had procured some old Russian Firewater in an engraved stainless steel bottle.  He could drink every last drop and then easily reuse it for other alcohol or other emergencies since it sealed quite well.  Tossing it to him he popped up, "So when I tinker inside you never remember it happening..."

For Amos he was less sure since Milo had passed he hadn't said much to anyone.  So what he did do was find him a small tripod telescope.  When he was younger the chance to look up and out to the stars gave him some peace when he was alone, perhaps it would help him as well, "I found stargazing good for the soul Amos..."

For Pegan he smiled when Asgard gave her the manual on the Pegasus because he gave her his crib book that he had made notations in on all the various ways he had made modifications to the algorithms and programming of the old suite that the 411 used to have...most if not all of it now removed and gutted away forcing him to start anew except this time he would have extra help.  He also had picked up a low profile carbon filter half-mask that would handle both Asgards smoking at the stench of the SRM racks missile fuel firing, "Should find both of them useful I'd think..."

Catching the case, he looked at it seriously, put the eye patch over his head, stood up and placed one foot on the chair. Looking through the scope, he said in an odd accent, "Arr Matey, I spy me some bull chips off the port bow. All hands abaft the stern to witness the scurvy walking the plank." Putting his foot down, while taking off the patch, he added, "I don't know why everyone thinks I'm such a pirate. You guys don't even know about the smuggling operation..."

Cat shook the model box experimentally as Crispin handed it to her, wondering if she could trade it for something better. The hologram was something worth keeping though. Her tank before they utterly messed it up.

"Thanks, sir. I greatly appreciate this gift. I'm sure you'll be happy when I build it so you can geek out over every detail I messed up." her smile grew from ear to ear.

He laughed as he could read the thoughts on her face, "I'm sure the glues and paints not to mention the small accessory blades that the grunts can use as improptu shaving blades will give you top trade."

"As to tricking it out I'm sure I can use the stuff Asgard gave me here to make it a mini-hovering replica..."
 he added with a wink.

Caitlin looked shocked and appalled "I would never trade away a present." She turned away from Crispin so he wouldn't see her cheeks turn red at the outright lie she was embarrassed for saying. She turned to Pegan "Merry Christmas Ma'am, enjoying things here so far?" to turn attention away from her and onto the newcomer instead.

Crispin knew she was into bartering for things more useful to herself and the crew and he had expected her to trade it away as that was the essence of the model as a present and to keep the hologram as a memory but it seemed that his version of humor was lost on her this time round...maybe he really did need that book she had given him.  He shrugged his shoulders and let it drop knowing that the Cap would likely clue her into it at a later time when she didn't feel so awkward.

In the meantime he did indeed start looking at the electronics kit to see if he could jury-rig together the parts needed to make a mini-hover remote controled interface that could be suitable as the drive for a replica...

"Really?" he asked, a bit puzzled. "I mean, we try to get good stuff, but we're kinda limited here, and getting a present for a master scounger is tough, especially without the resources of said master, since you'd blow the surprise... About the best we can hope for is something good for you to trade with to do your magic. Kind of like a gift certificate..." he smiled. "But you like 'em that much, at least they're small, they don't take up a lot of room in the lockers."

Cat drew her knees up to her face burying her face into her fatigues. Her voice was muffled from behind her knees. "Uh No sir. I would never trade any gift anyone gave me." It seemed a little unfair to her that everybody picked that moment to start picking on her, even although she would have been the first to keep needling any of the others. She wrapped her arms around her legs, hoping someone else would soon be the focus of attention.

He laughs and opens the bottle of whiskey he got to go with the cigs and offers  it around after taking a taste himself.

"Ah this is great stuff. I can feel my innards burn already."

It was moving in towards the even, just after dusk, when the soft whining hum of a well maintained high performance engine bought the bases senties to alert.  Bailey was flying in with new a new delivery from where ever the Eridani's were drawing logistics from these days.

Mostly fossil fuels, to keep the tanks moving, and the base warm and heated for a few more days.  It was a routine supply run, or so it seemed.  She had a few brief words with the sentry and was disappointed to hear that most of the Mechs were out on a mission, though most of the conventional units were present and on the base.  She wasted no time to find him.

He was in one of the smaller caverns of the complex.  It was serving as a Ops/Storage Room.  Space was limited and precious and the larger cavern was serving as living quarters for most of the men and women that called the complex home.  Most of the senior officers of the conventional units were gathered to discuss duty rotations for the next week when Bailey arrived.

"As you wish.  You," he said, pointing at Asgard, "were jsut about to be labeled 'Stingy'." He makes sure to share any of his consumables as the party ends, and a new day begins.

---

"Thanks, Bailey. You're as astute as you are pretty."

"All right everyone, we got a smash-and-grab. If we do good enough, we might be able to take their cargo, but we have no clue what it is. Kind of like a christmas present... Crank up that static generator, we're gonna see how close we get before they get nervous."

OOC: So is the truce still on? Not sure *I* want to be the one to break it.

It's december 20, the official Ceasefire, is December 24 and 25.

It's been 'quiet', but there is nothing official or binding that requires a ceasefire at this time for another three days.

Mission is posted here...
link to a message in this game

I'm presuming everyone is battletech savy so i dont have to explain anything.  The initial operation is 'battletech'.

Presuming you stop the convoy, phase two is pretty much sweeping up as much 'stuff' as you can.  After you clear out the mechanized defenders there will be a follow up scenario, where you have to deal with the drivers/gunners/infantry that are in 'hiding' to claim any salvage lying around.

Stuff in Combine APC's will have to be moved over to friendly transport for removal.  The trailers being hauled around can be hooked up to an Eridani TRACKED APC to be hauled off the battlefield.  (Tracked, not Hover.  Hover APC's dont haul cargo well, since they travel on air skirts and all that.)
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:48, Sat 13 Aug 2011.

Lt. Nate Armstrong was pretty irritated with the turn of events on Hoff.  It wasnt bad enough that they were forced, literaly, to run for the hills but now what was left of his conventional units were taking losses on what should have been an easy convoy ambush.

It was not the Eridani's finest moment.  Reports were in that a Harraser 412 was badly damage.  What what was left was totaled in friendly fire.  Pegasus 411 had taken it's share of damage but managed to limp home as well.

Infantry support had fire fights with the convoy's infantry and drivers and the follow up salvage operations were cut short by Combine support in the area.  Inventory tallies were not encouraging.  The bright spot of the encounter seemed to be that one of the Scorpions were damage, but repairable.  Several trailers of armor and munitions were recovered and an APC loaded with infantry had 'specialty' items of note.

It was... a pretty crappy night.  The crews were going to be busy all night with stowing the booty away and repairing the damage done.  The Liason officer was pretty upset about how badly Pegasus-411 had gotten hammered and was looking at Crispin's Raven as an alternative to test the new technology.

"When it rains... it pours...", he grumbles looking over the incident reports again.  Battalion was going to love this one.  Nate decided he deserved a pay raise, he was doing a captains work and going to get chewed out like a captain, he should be paid like one.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:03, Fri 09 Sept 2011.

Pegan wasnt pleased.  It was alot of work, and not alot of time.  Getting the experimental EW out of the crippled hovertank and into the more survivable Raven.

Actually to be honest it was going to suck.  She wouldnt be able to just observe and fix it now she would have to actually pilot a mech and god forbid.  Fight.  She was vaguely familiar with the operations of the battlemech, though she was hopelessly useless in trying to hit any sort of moving target.

Still, the Militia had considered it a high enough priority to get her into a Valkyrie to keep her on the field and observe the Raven's abilities.  In theory, it was nimble, durable, and inclined to fight at arms length and even provide some missile support for the Raven's EW abilities.

That was the problem though.  It was a theory.  As a scientist and technician, she knew that more often than not, theories broke down and fell apart on contact with reality.  After finishing up the EW installation she was told that installation of a couple of experimetal heat sinks was next on her agenda.

It was starting to look like a working Christmas.  There was still the not so small matter of recovering the shattered remains of the Harraser and repairing the Pegasus, to get her home.  Pegan was going to have to pay 411 a second trip to make sure all the prototype electronics was removed.
This message was last edited by the player at 15:41, Fri 09 Sept 2011.

Operation was being labeled a failing success.  While the objectives were met, the cost was considerable.  She was cleared of wrong doings, but that did nothing to alleviate her conscience.  It was going to be Christmas, and she was responsible for getting a dead Brother... Son... Uncle... whatever.

"meh...", she mutters to herself, nursing some of the hot cocoa she had made to try and cheer herself.

Pegan has asked to be flown back to ensure no salvage was left behind from the fiasco and to help with getting some of the workable equipment back online to drag home for use.

It's funny how quickly things can go from mundane routine to a life and death fire fight.

Salvage operations were suppose to be routine and a breeze.  Bailey had dropped me off with a squad of infantry to help me with salvage assessment.  As she departed to make another supply run for our base i tried to shake off my premonition of trouble as paranoia.

That was about ten minutes ago.  Evidently the Combine was out in force tonight combing through the area for salvage, and had waited for Bailey to depart and us to spread out before making their move.

It seemed like a few hundred bad guys were shooting at us.  Corporal Hudson assured me it was closer to a Platoon.  It still seemed like an awful lot of bad guys.  Munitions quickly became an issue as we simply ran low on munitions.  They had put in a call for help but they were pretty far out and away and things were going to really get ugly before any of it found it's way to us.

Gregory was sitting just outside the cave looking out over the area. His mech was still cooling down and he could hear the tension differences in the metal as his metal persona was readjusting its shape after cooling. He was smoking a thick cigar he had acquired and was holding his gift bottle of whiskey in the other hand. It seemed they where fighting an up hill battle. They needed a victory soon or morale would reach an all time low and deserting would become a real problem. Taking another drag and drowning it with a swig from the bottle before he exhales Gregory smiles and closes his eyes as he listens to his mech setting itself while cooling.

Caitlin waited outside the compound, bundled up in her oversize parka. It wasn't hers but the man it used to belong too wouldn't care any more. The gaps in the coat let the ice cold air in.

It was bad news all round today. The sight of the APC's coming back with the loot trailing behind them didn't fill her heart with glee as it might any other day. The biscuit had fallen, and it was all just due to the damndest luck. A few meters to the other side and everything would have been fine.

Cat could see Bailey was angry and depressed, but she thought she should leave her friend for a little bit. When she needed company, Cat would be waiting for her, just outside the range of the guard posts. A good place to sit and think and commiserate and let things out, out of the sight of the others.

Cat poured out some coffee as the wreckage was brought in, raising it as a toast to the biscuit. He might have been lost, but the supplies and salvage might keep them operational for another week. Though knowing their luck, Cat bet that the supply trains were full of empty canteens or spare uniforms, turning the victory into a meaningless quagmire.

It didnt take Bailey long to get back to the salvage site.  She floored the pedals and was there in a fraction of the time it took her to depart from the site.  It didnt help.  By the time she did a fly by over the site, there was no one around to help.

That's when she made radio contact.  Several brief moments of banter over who they were and what they wanted was traded back and forth between them.  She didnt have the authority for this crap, and Tony bit the bullet yesterday so that left Nate...

As Bailey killed the three way radio connection, Nate told her there was nothing to be done at this point and ordered her to finish her supply run.  He ran fingers through his hair before taking a moment to blow on them.  Heating in the area was down.  Bailey was making a supply run for fossil fuels for the heaters.

"Go gather the Stallions, it looks like we have a mission lined up.", Nate told a couple of the men on standby to go gather the mech warriors.

Hopping down from his Raven and the unnaturally quick retro-fit of the EW suite Crispin headed over to Nate once he had gotten the word that he wanted their presence.  Taking off the helmet as he got close he asked, "What's coming down on the horn Armstrong? I've barely gotten the Raven up and running again since Pegan ripped out all the old gear we knew worked and had me slot in the new stuff...it'll work in a pinch...I think."

One of the perks of being Nate's recon lance commander was not having to call him sir unless he got particularly grumpy and he knew he'd tell it to him straight.  Still things were getting bad on Hoff.  The Erdani's were top notch but the Combine also had the top notch Wolf on their contract...not a unit to scoff at.

He was looking dark and brooding as he was disturbed from his silent reminiscing to report to the Lt and after stowing away his drink he made his way over the orange glow from his cigar giving him an eerie appearance with each drag as smoke billows from under his hood.

"So whats the news?"

After one of the sentrys told her that Armstrong wanted her, Caitlin took one last deep lungful of the fresh crisp air. The caves smelt of humanity and people that were trapped close together for a long time. Almost as bad as her Hlokk's cockpit, outside it was fresh and crisp and cold.

With one last regretful look, she wrapped up tight trying to close all of the gaps letting the wind in and thumped through the snow to get back indoors to warmth and heat and whatever the Lieutenant wanted.

The news wasn't good.  The Eridani salvage crew was captured along with Pegan.  Bailey has been in contact with a Combine Tai-i and Nate, has managed to negotiate an uneasy truce, to exchange a 'heirloom' for Pegan and the salvage crew.

Considering the value of the information in Pegan's head, Nate is more than happy to make the exchange.  The Eridani's mount up and sally forth to negotiate the release of their liason officer and salvage crew.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:01, Mon 17 Oct 2011.

(* Pre-Mission (3) Role Playing *)

The exchange was an acceptable pyric victory for the Eridanis.  The exchange was a mexican standoff, and they were forced to exchange the sword for their salvage crew.  Withdrawing from negotiations were potentially hazardous as a company of  Combine's 123rd Cavalry seeks to avenge the ambush of some of their comrades against the Eridanis.  A well timed distraction by a Davion Cicada provides a distraction for the Eridani's to withdraw intact.

The Eridanis take a round about route home, taking twice as long to make it back to their hidden base than a direct route.  There is a discussion between Mechwarrior Sforza and Lt. Armstrong.

Camille was due to muster out of the DMM two months ago, but the Combine invasion has kept her in the milita and fighting longer than expected.  With her company all but decimated, and being forced to scrounge for meals, Camille decides to formally opt to muster out of the Davion Militia and decides to sign on with the Eridanis.


Pre-Mission Two Roleplaying awards
1xp for Caitlin, Crispin and Gregory for rp during briefing.
This message was last edited by the GM at 04:01, Mon 17 Oct 2011.

The ops ran late into the evening, and people were celebrating surviving the ops and coming home intact with little to no damage.  The Tech crews would, no doubt have them operating in the morning and ready to go.

Nate was more than happy to sleep in late and woke with the familiar pain of a moderate hangover.  It was probably a mistake to try and out drink Asgard but it was certainly fun at the time to try.

Breakfast was a tin cup of black coffee a bread roll that was steamed into something edible.  He called the unit to assemble for an ops meeting.  The unit's APC's were out patroling the perimeter freeing them up for operations.

"Morning peoples.  Without a doubt, it was nice to get our salvage team back last night.  It was also nice that all you mooks came back intact for another night of partying.", Nate raises his tin of black coffee to the assembled company.

"We however, still have a problem.  Our darling Davion Liason is still missing.", Nate nods to Gregory, "Yes... the one that we have orders to shoot before allowing to fall into enemy hands.  That Liason officer.  Obviously were going to have to try and get her back or if that's not an option make certain she doesnt linger to spill her guts.  Options?"

He loved a night of party and drinking and he was not ashamed to show the Lt. that he was no match for him in a drinking contest. Sitting at the conference table for the ops meeting he was having an Irish coffee to properly warm him. He thinks for a moment and then speaks up.

"We got any artillery? We could 'secretly' bring them into position to shell the base. Have a unit ready to take out anyone that comes to inspect them. Then send out another force to draw some more attention away from the base and infiltrate it with a small infantry team. Its harder to detect and it means we can try to get her out alive. Anything else will prolly lead to us having to blow up wherever she is holed up and make usre there are no survivors inside."

"We have some thumpers and a sniper left.  They wouldnt get more than a few rounds off before they had to pack it up and move to avoid counter artillary fire.  Lazy bunch of PBIs that they are, they're not inclined to move unless they have to.

We could call in a few favors to get this done if we cant come up with anything better.  It sounds risky since we have no idea what were shelling though.  We going to get Crispy here to spot?"

Sounds like we need some HUMINT about the situation.  And as far as I'm concerned there is only one good kind of HUMINT.  That the kind you obtain personally. I'm willing to go for a walk about in that area.  And just so we're clear, we ain't shooting nobody that's ours.  Damn the higher ups.  We save 'em come hell or high water.

"I'm not a fan of killing friendlies... but orders... are orders.", Nate shrugs but gives Devlin a wink that he's just stating official policy.

"And how long it takes Drac intel to relay their likely knowledge about her." replied Crispin as he punched in a couple equiations on his noteputer in regards to the Raven.

"I got some good readings on thier positions using the Raven's EW suite but since it wasn't specifically recording the data it woun't be accurate enough to let me weave the Raven in past their sensor nets to get a good beam for artillery to drop.  I'm good but I'm no Exterminator pilot."


(Moved by Kitten for Crispy.)

Nate scowls, "Do i look like a slanty eyed intel officer?  How should i know?", he grumbles as he gulps down coffee.

"I suppose the opening move is to see if these snakes want the scabbard bad enough to swap for a lowly liason officer.  If not.   Well, i suppose they might know.  I ain't looking forward to another exchange though.  If we do, it's going to be someplace more... neutral."

"I don't see any way for us to infiltrate the base. We have no idea about anything going on in there. Our only chance would be to knock off a patrol and ask a lot of questions. Our skin tone and eyes mean we won't get far pretending to be Snakes, so we'd have to pretend to be dragoons.....and they REALLY don't like people pretending to be them." Caitlin shrugged "On other hand the dragoons and the Snakes are uneasy allies....anything can drive a wedge between them might be good."

"I'm thinking... we make another meet.  They have something we want, we have something they want.  The only question is, do we play it straight, or do we try and pre-empt them withour own nasty surprise.", Nate rubs his chin thoughtful.

---

Playing it straight will lead to another mech scenario.
Thanos
Caitlin
Amos

A nasty surprise will lead to a scenario out of the mech.
Gregory
Devlin
Camille
This message was last edited by the player at 12:37, Wed 19 Oct 2011.

"I say we surprise them and do it rough and proper. With a bit of luck we can steal some of their rides or blow up some key bit of their base in the process."

He takes a swig of his coffee and pulls an ugly face as the liquor inside burns its way down.

I'm with BBQ.  Sneak in, get our liason then borrow some rides out.  Don't gotta be mechs.  Might could grab some fast gravs and get the Hell outa Dodge. I knida got a hankerin to kill some Snakes up close and personal like.

"I'm with Devlin." Amos volunteered. "Let's take a few of them out. And we can have a few mechs on standby when they pursue."

"hmm, I'm new around here so I don't really know how things work with you guys, but I think stealing their own hardware to use it against them later gives them a real pretty bloody nose."
Seeing your entire company reduced to scraps did something to people, camille felt rather vindictive right now, she'd lost comrades, even possible future allies, people she could've used to regain the honor of her family, and now her work was undone.
She clenched her fist around the empty beer can, crushing it slowly, an odd thing how random acts of destruction always helped with your mood when you felt like laying down the wrath from on high upon someone.

"No matter what we need to get Pegan out of the hands of the Dracs before they realize through prodding or outside intel what she is.  I'm no spec ops but I don't think that playing stand up will work this time.  They want our unit erased so they can move on to other objectives...deny them a target as well as something to track and we can operate here for longer as a thorn in their side." mused Crispin as he worked out options in his head.

"Between some quiet skulldugery and borrowing some hover units to evac us quickly I think we could pull it off if we have even the slightest bit of intel."

We're gonna need some sort of diversion.  Reckon our infantry units can help us out?

Nate nods slowly.

"I concur.", Nick draws out the word, as if he'd said something clever.  To be fair it wasnt in he normal subset of vocabruary words to use.

"If it were me in there, i wouldnt really want a bunch of trigger happy PBIs coming for me.  So lets get the ground work done on getting our hands dirty the old fashioned way and busting our blond egghead out of there.", Nate frowns slightly at the oxymoron he just uttered but lets it slide after a slightly quizzled look.

"Let's put together a ground team then, and we'll bust her out."

---

Players may choose to involve their characters in the next scenario or not.  Characters who are involved will get full pay and experience for the scenario.

Players who do not wish to involve their characters will be assigned an NPC Infantryman and get 1/2 pay and no experience for the scenario.

Crispin offered, "Well since I'm good with tech I prolly should go along in case we need to bypass any systems in a much quieter fashion than det-cord wrapped around a breeching point..."

"If Brute force doesnt solve the problem, youre not using enough force.  Come along if you want, but make sure you bring a gun."

Nate was born a Fed Rat, but he's got the soul of a Lyran.

Crispin laughed as he added, "I've got a MI3 issued shotgun that I got to keep when I mustered out.  It'll give plenty of brute force in close proximity. 'Sides you think I picked up a metal arm and leg from riding around in my 'mech?"

"I'm tagging along. Even if its just to make sure someone of us does what needs to be done if we cant get her out."

He grins darkly and empties his cup.

"Just make sure you bring the gun and leave the booze when you do.", Nate makes a little circular motion around his head.  He was a blunt idiot at times, but he didnt want to peer pressure anyone that wanted to sit this one out.

Alot of mechjocks felt naked out of the cockpit.  Go figure.

"I'm off to chat with the Lt. to see which squadies he can loan us for the operations.  If youre in.  Meet me at the armory in five."

At the Armory...

The armory was a small cave with plenty of boxes in it.  Assorted equipment was inside for use as needed.  If you didnt own the appropiate hardware before, you were going to be issued it now.

---

(Equipment is 'loaned' to the characters at this point.
 If you dont bring it back in the same condition you were loaned it, you 'bought' it and the cost will be deducted from your bank.)

Players will each be given an NPC Infantryman to use in the upcoming mission.  Use him, love him, try and bring him back intact.  You have a limited number in the unit and you dont know when you'll need him again.  So everyone will get to participate in the mission, even if they're scared and dont want to lose thier character over this.  (Players receive half pay and no experience if they do this)

Players may also add their personal character to the mission making a 'two man' unit for the mission.  The characters will move together and operate together as a team.  Any attacks made on the unit have a 50% chance of hitting the NPC.  A player may spend an edge point to guarantee the NPC takes a bullet meant for his character.  The player may deduct a point of edge (permanently) to transfer a lethal wound from his character to the NPC.

---

If your character does not have armor... you may purchase some.
Helmet - (Default armor) - Free
Flak Vest - (-1 AP / Protects two blocks) - Cost (--)
Flak Suit - (-2 AP / Protects four blocks) - Cost (--)

Equipment
Knife (3L) and (2) Grenades

Main Weapon (pick one if you dont own one) w/2 clips
Rifle - 4L (Range 27/75)
SMG - 3L (Range 7/20)

Options (pick one if you dont own one)
+2 clips for main weapon
+2 Grenades (-/8)
Pistol -3L (Range 7/20)

So far Crispin, Devlin and Gregory are listed as going.

I suspect Camille will be going as well, and i'm waiting for confirmation.
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:41, Wed 19 Oct 2011.

Devlin takes a deep puff on the cigar and blows a couple of large smoke rings while the discussion goes on.  Once it is decided that they will being goin in without mechs he sits forward.

Hope you don't think you're going without me.  I played infantry long before I got my metal uniform.  Sometimes I miss the smell of blood and the feel of a knife slipping into someone's neck and down to the heart.  Or even the look on their face as you tase them into unconsciousness.

He smiles.

"Tough guy like you?  Never dream of leaving without you.  Just dont shoot BBQ if he's doing his duty.  Never kill family over something like a liason officer.", Nate doesnt seem too pleased as he returns to the Armory.

"Snakes are being a pain in the ass.  They want me to show up for the 'exchange'.  I'm going to show up to keep the charade going and to buy you time.  Cripsy you're in charge of the ops."

---

You have an entire squad of NPC infantry, you dont need Nate around for this next scenario.

Amos rubbed his head. "Hey don't forget about me." He volunteered aloud as he stepped forward. He looked through the armory and picked up a lot of gear.

Amos came out of the armory with a flak suit and helmet. A pistol and rifle with a knife stuck in a boot. A couple of grenades hung from a belt. "Alright. So what's the plan."

"And me as well"
Camille said flatly, the knuckles of the fist wraped around the can had turned white from the pressure, more importantly, she'd cut herself, it wasn't anything major, just a minor cut, but she didn't seem to notice, she didn't seem intoxicated either.

Nate frowns looking amused, "Kill the bad guy and get the girl.  That's how they do it in the holovids isnt it?"

After a moment Nate thumbs at Crispin.

"No clue what it's going to look like there.  Crispy will make the call in the field.  Shes to come back this time around, or we need to make sure she doesnt go anywhere.  One or the other.  I'll try and stall them and drag out negotiations."

In reply to 1st Lt. Nate Armstrong (msg #170):

"Of course, there is always the aggressive kind of negotiations...right boss?"

Nate looks up thoughtful for a moment.

"Bailey can be eye in the sky and spot them for you.  If anyone can find them she can.  She feels bad enough about leaving Pagan to be netted, so it'll be good to let her do something on this.  We've got two hover APCs, fastest and quietest things we probably have.  They'll take you guys and Hotel out to where Bailey bird dogs them for you.  Then... you do what you have to do.  We all on the same page?"

"Hey we don't got any hand flamer? How do i bbq them now?"

He asks with a to wide grin and much to cheerful tone in his voice as he goes through the armory to pick up some field gear. The fact that he was having two canteens on his belt was a dead give away he had not listened to the no booze order.

"Yeah lets hope it goes like in the holovids then and we are considered the good guys in the script."

Crispin nodded to each of the mechwarriors that had decided to volunteer for the boots on this one so far before looking back to Nate, "We'll get it done.  Wish we had some nimble hoverbikes but you work with whatcha got." he added with a smile.

"We'll be going in with Hotel and while they normally work as a cohesive unit, we'll likely toss them off without a little helpful hints along the way.  Mechwarriors that head out on this one will pair up to help bring everyone up to speed since even the more accomplished ones," looking over to Devlin based on his commentary, "will benefit from someone watching their back."

"No hand flamers on this One BBW though your breath might work if you have a match"

---

Will post scenario, after everyone has had a chance to check in on the scenario notes, and has a made an informed decision on that they want to use for gear.

Cat stood up and went to the armory to draw gear. She didn't necessarily agree with the way they were doing things, the Light horse was supposed to be honorable, but they were family and she'd be damned if she was going to let anyone hurt a member of that. Even if the Snakes played tricks on them, all they had to show for it were a few trashed vehicles.

Nate tries hard, and manages not to say anything, but cant quite keep the amused grin he has as Caitlin grabs some gear for the mission.

He was sure anything might say would be offensive so he wisely went safe and said nothing.

Switching out of his Mechwarrior gear Crispin slips into the camouflage fatigues he had.  Strapping on his autopistol to his leg while sliding his knife into it's boot sheath he left his shotgun, impractical for this engagement, but grabbed his engineer's helmet on his way out.  In the armory he added to his ensemble a flak vest for a little bit of protection while maintaining maneuverability and a durable rifle.  Since he had his own sidearm he grabbed a pair of extra clips and tapped them before slotting them away for use.  The Drac's might be on the up and up but he'd hazard that if they had some DEST commando's on planet they would do the same.

Edited
This message was last edited by the player at 17:42, Mon 24 Oct 2011.

In reply to 2nd Lt. Crispin McAlister (msg #178):

Thanos ends up in the armory gearing up with the items necessary and requisition-able as well.

Didn't know I was signing up for this, but that is what basic training is really about, being flexible and able to take commands.

after picking up her gear Camille returned to the others.
"So, how are we going to do this? Any thorough plans or?"

Devlin enters the armory and comes out a bit later. He has his usual auto-pistol on his right leg with 2 spare mags next to it.  He also has a 2nd auto pistol in a shoulder holster with 2 spare mags.  His left hip has a large combat knife on it.  There is a 2nd combat knife upside down on the shoulder strap of the holster for the pistol.  A 3rd knife rides on the back of his belt.

He looks at the others choices and comments.

Any of you with rifle sniper trained? We could use a good overwatch sniper.  Just remember, if we have to fire the weapons that go BANG, we're in a world of hurt. We're going to need to move quiet and fast.  If they have any auto shotguns in there, they would be better than the rifles for close combat ex-filtration.  Load 'em up with buckshot and you don't have to worry about aiming while running.  And the sound of the things is damn scary.

"We are flying blind. You can't plan for that we got to make it in the field.

Only thing we got to know. We have to get her at ALL costs?"

He gets his gear on and flexes his back ready to go.

"Intel is close to zero, we may get some en-route or some hints from the salvage team as things to potentially expect, and marksman trained yes, full sniper no, always played spotter instead in my early days." smiled Crispin to Devlin.

Nodding to Asgard he agreed, "We'll be getting her back, or as the LT. said making sure the Dracs don't get to knowledgeable about her.  I prefer having her alive in our hands to dead in theirs so lets do this thing right so she gets back here alive in one piece."

Looking around at those that were assembled he asked, "Anyone else or are we close to rounding ourselves up to head out on this, latest of crusades?"

I suggest we pair up and check each other out.  Tape anything shiny with black combat tape.  Also be sure to tape anything that makes noise. You should be able to jump up and down and not make any sounds.

"I've got the basic combat training course, and a few assault courses, but...
I went straight into a 'mech."
she shrugged, like it was only natural.

Just remember, when taking out a sentry with a knife, you do not grab them from behidn and cut their throat.  It allows them to gurgle and make noise.  Either stab them between the neck and collarbone and angle down to the heart, or slide the knife in between the 4th and 5th rib on the left side.  Better still, grab them from behind with hand over mouth and jab the knife upward where the spine meets the skull.  Instant shutdown.

Seeing the looks on the faces as he explains this he thinks for a moment then speaks.

Okay, does anyone have ground training or close combat training that has actually done any of it?

"I watched the universal soldier holoflick. Don't worry so much we just walk in get her out and borrow a tank to add to insult."

Just standard equipment in the armory Devlin, nothing to quiet your attacks.

Operation Jail Break had alot of blood being spilled, the Eridani's lost a few members of Hotel Squad, though the mission was accomplished.

The medical technicians were at work tending the wounded and bullets were dug out of bodies and stitched up for the mending process.

Pegan was doped up and groggy on a vast assortment of drugs in her system but would live.  It's uncertain at this time how much information was disclosed while she was in this state.

Christmas rolls around, and for most it's a good morning.  Any morning you wake up to these days is a good one.  The pain of wounds suffered in battle, is not a bad thing.  You have to be alive to appreciate the pain.

The Holiday Truce, is good it seems, and the day passes with out incident.  Peace can be pretty infectious to those who fight war constantly and it lasts for a couple of days longer than expected as the Eridani's lick their wounds, the Combine cozy down in their warm compounds to enjoy the holidays.

---

Players are free to do some light roleplaying as bookkeeping for M3 is wrapped up.  This is NOT a mandatory thing, for those of you that are old school and dont like to roleplay for battle tech i can live with that, though you never know what sort of benefits might appear in roleplaying.

The last few days had been an absolute blur.  The salvage operations had gone south rather quickly as Combine infantry were in place foil any attempt at recovering battefield gear.

Out numbered four to one, there was nothing to be done but surrender or die.  Troopers were segrated by gender.  The men were treated to harsher physical interrogation while Pegan and another female trooper were subjected to more subtle interrogations.

The days quickly blurred once that started as everything seemed a hazy dream.

It remained that way up until she woke up in the Eridani med ward.  Okay not really a ward, more like a corner of the cave with cots instead of sleeping bags, and extra space heaters to keep their guest extra warm.  Around her were half a dozen Eridanis in various stages of recovery.

The Medical Technician made certain she was going to stay bed ridden for at least the rest of the day for observation.  As fuzzy as her thoughts were from the last remains of the drugs in her body, she considered that not necessarily a bad thing and slowly reclines to catch a catnap.

Nate had called in a few favors to get the artillary salvos that allowed him to withdraw in good order.  Things were dicey for a minute or two there as the combine started to realize he was stalling.

Extraction had gone well enough though and Pegan was recovered alive.  It had been done at the cost of Eridani lives though.  Someone was going to pay for their death Benefits, it was a good thing the Federated Suns had pretty good credit.

Loosing Gregory was a tough thing, and he knew it was weighing on him as mush as the others.  He would be missed and thus Crispin knew he needed to check in on Pegan so that his death as well as the other Eridani troopers loses would not be in vain.  Coming in quietly to where the wounded were recuperating he left bits of encouraging words to the men and stopped by Pegan's bedside only to find her seemingly asleep.

Asleep, alive and drugged was better than dead.

Leaning against the wall he pondered how the war was going and how his survival and hers could help make a meaningful end to it with what he knew and what she knew about R&D.  He certainly hoped that it was worth it...

It was at least a hour of bedrest since she last woke, before Pegan would stir and wake.  When she did her head was clearer but she was absolutely famished.  She felt fatigued, but it was an honest feeling as opposed to one induced by drugs.

Rolling over she notices that it was cold.  She was dressed in a clean jumpsuit, which was preferable to a patients gown, but it was still Hoff, and it was still winter out there.

Sleep was slow to release it's hold on her, and her eyes were blinking sleepily before the sleep blurred vision of Nevermore appeared seated at her bed side.  Rubbing the palms of her hands against her eyes, she made an effort to fully awaken.

"Geez... it's cold.  What did i miss?", Pegan mumbles sleepily.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:27, Thu 01 Dec 2011.

"Not much.  Some dicey negotiations the the Dracs to get you and the techs back.  Then we lost a few good men getting you back in one piece..." he mused to her with a tight smile.

"...but you are back in one piece so Merry Christmas, it's good to have you back with us Pegan." his tone easy but tired.

Pegan scowls at Crispin at the news, "Not the sort of Christmas present i would have wished for.  Who did we lose?"

Pegan makes an effort to sit up.  Her thermal cover fell away and her skin instantly started to get goosebumps.  It wasnt all bad though.  It was a good treatment to wake her up.

Officially she was a Liason officer, and the loss of mercenary 'assets' was something she was suppose to write off as a preferable evil to losing Davion Militia.  Still... these people had died to bring her back, and it was hard to marginalize any loss as a statistic in that light.

Pegan was bright, and Pegan was perceptive.  The tight look Crispin had indicated it was someone 'close'.

"I'm sorry you lost good people over this."

"Hotel teamed up with us Mechwarriors to insert close to the APC they were holding you in since the Special Ops team was off on a 'priority mission' for the brass." nodded Crispin to Pegan in a show of thanks for her regret over the losses.

"Ones teamed up with Devlin, Camille and Gregory took some precise Drac fire and bought it on the field," he paused as he seemed to mull over something, "Gregory died of some complications to a gut wound he took that was worse off than he let us to believe...prolly cause the dumb bastard had drunk just enough to get him in the zone for the fight and it delayed the obvious pain symptoms that he could have let us know about.  By the time we got back here it was too late to save him."  He shook his head not but it was pretty clear from his face and tone he wasn't accusing Pegan, just the dumb bad luck of it all.

"Figure he would have listened to us just once..." as he trailed off and sighed and shook his head.

"All of them will be missed."

Camille woke up at that moment, she felt groggy but otherwise fine, it was jsut a flesh wound but it would still bug her for a while.
"Oh hello, you must be their Liason, Camille Sforza of the DMM, my unit got wiped out in an ambush, I only just barely managed to get out of there alive, I missed my evac jump by several days, So I threw in with these guys."

Command was certainly efficient.  Gregory's bunk was hardly cold before they start shoving a newcomer into the mix...what a holiday.  In came such a newcomer now, with his duffel bag over his shoulder and poking around for the proper place to set down his stuff.  He was a small, well-groomed light-skinned, blonde-haired man--a sissy if there ever was one.  He didn't seem much to notice the others and just went about his business.  It was probably for the best for all parties...less yelling, less violence and less discipline needing to be enforced.

The Wild Stallions had lost another pilot, which definitely put a sour note on the holidays.  Command had seen it fit to dig up a replace pilot, an NCO no less to assign to the Wild stallions.

Nate gave things a little bit of thought, it was selfish, but command had its perks, so he kept Devlin with his lance, adding one of the new Cicada pilot to keep an eye on him.

Crispin's lance stayed much the same.  There was enough crap going on with losing BBQ that they didnt need more change at this time.  Cat and Peggy were fine company for the old coot.

The new guy was going to need some solid backing though.  Figuring BJ and Joker were solid reliable pilots under his command, the "Blue Blood" could do worse for lance mates.

Assignments were given out for the new Year and orders were given to move out.  Captain Garabaldo evidently had ops in progress, and requested the Stallions to engage and distract the Combine for him.

So orders were to engage and 'distract' the Combine.  Nate didnt need much incentive at this point, it would be nice to get back in the cockpit and grind some snakes under his metal heel.

"Crispy, take the fire lance up and over the east side of the mountain range, deal with any snakes that come snooping around.  I'm taking the command lance west to patrol the flatlands.", Nate pauses and looks Blueblood over, "You're on garrison, you're the reserve."

Battallion was suppose to send them some more pilots... if they could scrounge them up, though the word was, dont get our hopes up anytime soon, things were tough all around for the Eridani's.

So it was that assignments were doled out for the week.  The Wild Stallions would enjoy quiet patrols for two days, on the third day, their luck would change. . .
This message was last edited by the player at 18:01, Sun 04 Dec 2011.

Pegan sat on her dingy oil drum and watched the Eridani's go about their business.  Morale was pretty bad.  Yesterday's ops did not go well.

The Wild Stallions had managed to distract the Combine long enough for Bravo to do some damage to the 123rd base of operations, though from what she understood, the damage was not as great as was hoped, and 'complications' ensued.

One of the lances... the one she was a member of, had lost their commanding officer, and that was murder on morale.  That the Combine turned tailed and ran only made it more so.  Damage to the Command lance was extensive, and Scooter was still trying to figure out what was still working, and what was absolute junk.

The news wasnt all bad though.  Batallion HQ was scrounging around and consolidating units.  As bad as 6th Company was, other units were in worse shape, and those units were being desolved to provide reinforcements for units that were more 'whole'.

The Wild Stallions were already plotting their next operations.  They were going to be looking to put down the Lance that had cost them a respected officer.  Once lance was to engage a target of opportunity, and draw them into battle.  The other was to engage and inflict as much damage as possible.

Cat sat outside in the cold, her parka at least four sizes too large for her. She barely moved as the tears froze against her skin. Crispy was gone, forever. The company had already lost so many, but Crispy's death hit Cat very deeply. Lost in introspection she barely noticed time passing by. The winds whipped up the snow, driving it across the plain like a river. It held no beauty to Cat.

"IDIOT" she screamed into the void, before resting her head between her knees. She felt betrayed by him. He had no right to go kill himself. He regarded the time that he'd spent with everyone as nothing, not worth saving or holding on to. The tears still flowed as Cat buried her head letting the cold and snow overtake her.


NB> I was going to use much harsher language for the curse that Cat would place a Crispy's feet, but modesty forbids, and I'm unsure as to the rating of the game.

Scooter was use to the mechwarriors taking their rides out and bringing them back with assorted scratches dents in need of a little buffing and welding for repairs.  He was pretty upset when the Command lance came back.

"OMFG~!  What the Frak have you muscle bound mech jocks done to my babies!", He moans as he evaluates the extensive damage inflicted.  He shakes a fist at the wary mech warriors too tired from their near death experience to pay the hyperactive technician too much attention.

"Someone is going to have to pay for this!", he shakes his fist at their retreating backs.

"I'm not even sure we have what we need in stock!", Scooter shakes his head through disgusted and makes a motion to his astechs to get busy.  The mechs werent going to fix themselves.

Camille's Bill
20 arm. fact. ~ up to 48 repaired (No problem)
 6 internals  ~ up to  8 repaired (No problem)
Engine Shield ~ Available on 8+ ~ Cost 100,000 cbills. (not covered by supply pool)
(+1 to Availability roll for Noble)

Devlin's Bill
65 arm. fact.~ up to 72 repaired (No problem)
 6 internals ~ up to  8 repaired (No problem)
Medium Laser ~ Available on 7+ ~ Cost 40,000 cbills (not covered by supply pool)
Upper Arm    ~ Available on 6+ ~ Cost  4,000 cbills (not covered by supply pool)
Lower Arm    ~ Available on 6+ ~ Cost  2,000 cbills (not covered by supply pool)
(+1 to ONE roll for Corporal, probably the ML?)
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:27, Wed 14 Dec 2011.

Corporal Carlyle had been listening to the chatter over the long range comm kit that he had patched into his Clint's systems.  None of the reports were good: heavy damage, lost officer, botched spec op.  He shook his head in the cockpit as they rolled the last bit into the basecamp that had been set up.  Looking over to Halo's Commando that strode beside him he sent a comm buzz across to her, "Somber house Halo, just got confirmation on another loss.  Some Lt busted a nut for the last time.

Got immediate orders to park it but I don't think we'll be sitting pretty fer long."  Bringing his Clint to a stop where they wanted him and Halo to relax he marveled over the damage that the command lance had taken.  Popping his hatch he climbed on down and waited for Halo before heading off to find the CO and see what the score was with the local Combine forces.

"Yeah... what else is new.  At least theyre only running into the Combine and not getting ripped up by the Dragoons.  My ride needs some work, and reloads too.  This is going to be home?  Geez.  It doesnt look very warm.  We really are being thrown back to the stoneage.  Living in caves and all.  Next we'll be spear chucking at the Dracs?"

Halo bought the smaller commando to park under the rock overhanging.  One of the many advantages to being a commando was the ease of finding parking.  You were also ignored more often, when the big scarey thunderbolt was hurling death next to you.

The Commando was still toasty warm, and she was loathed to leave the snug cockpit.  The heavy parka couldnt be heavy enough in her opinion.

It was a little later that Sandra was bundled in a heavy artic coat, that covered her from head just past her thighs.  Heavy mittens swallowed her hands, and snow gogggles and a heavy scarf made her look more like a snowman than a mech warrior.

"It's cold.", she complains, "My god, what i would give for a hot shower, who do i have to kill to get a soak in a hot bath."

Sandra looks over mangled mechs from the Command lance.

"Mech, they were able to walk in.  It couldnt have been that bad.", she observes after a moment.

"That L. T. is another matter.", she comments with a vague motion that's lost under the layers of clothing that might have been a shrug.  Halo's body bobs up and down as she alternates between toe lifts and shifting her weight about to stay moving.

"Can we go in now??? I'm cold!"
This message was last edited by the player at 21:18, Wed 14 Dec 2011.

Camille had had enough, the aim of her gun ahd been seriously off, only major compensation had cause her to cut the arm off that she'd succeeded in hitting, when the mech got at her face she blew it.
"WHAT?, a Chimp could calibrate a particle cannon better than you guys, what on earth did you do to it?, my baby was working perfectly fine untill you guys got your hands on her, and i nearly got my ass blown off cause of your incompetence!"

She left their hideout seething, going outside to get some fresh air before she did something irrevocable to the moron who'd messed up her machine.

Damn it, the girl had been a gift from her parents when she graduated the academy, some girls got precious jewelry, she got a mech, and she Loved the damn speedy thing.
They'd be disappointed if they'dd seen her performance on the feild today, even with the cannon being slgihtly off, she'd messed up.

Sandra continues to bob up and down as Camille has her fit at the Techies.

"Cheerful.  They're in a good mood.  Can we go now.  I dont want to be yelled at on my first day."

A bulky 'ski' gloved mitten tugs on Cowbows arm, urging him towards the cave.  These people must be cold blooded and live with ice in their veins.  Only Snowmen could be at home in this weather.

"Yeah, lets get inside doubt it'll be any warmer in there though."

The winter was certainly cold but still held little in comparison to Graham IV his homeworld.  Still stirring himself from those thoughts. he tilted his hooded head to Halo and headed into the little cave system that the 6th had set up to find out where they were going to bunk and what they were about ti get themeslves into.

It might have been that Hinklemeyer-Schmidt was new to the unit and therefore not attached to others, but rumors had it more that Blueblood was simply an A-hole with ice blue blood in his veins.  The man walked around outside watching the visceral reactions of his lancemates with very little to say.  A more sensible commander would have at least tried to bring the team more together on all of this...or maybe chew out some others for being insensitive.  But, the blonde boy-man wasn't the type to do that.

Instead, he approached Camille's exchange with Scotty with inappropriate interest.  With a finger over his mouth to keep it closed, a sort of slight smile popped onto his face.  Watching someone of station dressing down someone without apparently passed for a good spectator sport for Johan.

The cave complex was moderately better.  a dozen yards from the entrance and drape hung across the mouth of the tunnel to keep the worse of the wind and cold out.  On the other side, it was almost... a 'comfortable' sixty two degrees.

The walls were rough cut, but the deeper they got into the cave complex the warmer it got.  It was almost a bareable climate in the main chamber.  Sandra was actually inclined to shed some of the heavy clothing.

Sheding pulling the parka hood down, she shed the heavy scarf and goggles as she opens up the coat to let heat bleed in.

"Okay... this i can almost handle.  I think i'm good now.", she comments eyes closed as if she were contemplating something naughty.

"If you need to find me I'm going to be parked on this heater.", she comments cheerfully.

It hadnt occured to her yet, that such devices couldnt possibly be running indefintely and they were due due to cycle down soon.

Adam let a knowing smile touch his face as Sandra sat down by the heater, "Enjoy it while you can...I'll see you in few after I have a talk with Armstrong."

Slipping his own hood down and unzipping the parka for the moment her headed past her asking a random trooper where the Lt was birthed for the moment so he could check himself and Sandra in to their new unit and find out the lay of the land.

Cat stopped feeling cold, after a few hours. Her face and fingers turning blue she headed back towards the Mech bay. Things were going to change. They had to. Her eyes blazed with inner fire as she headed back to the Mechbay. She didn't feel the cold any more. The soft numbness of pain as she started talking to the chief tech was ignored. Cat could see the tech wasn't amenable to her changes. She pointed back to the Raven Crispin piloted adamant the Tech would agree. Peeling the ice from her skin. Cat leaned forward, making very sure she had the tech's attention.

"I want a sword for my Valkyrie....made from the Raven."

Scooter squints looking at Caitlin a little harder, "You mean... a sword for you?  Mechs dont bring knives to gun fights you know."

Scooter wonder what he had done to deserve this.  First getting blamed for skilless mech warrior inadequecies... Now... they wanted him making swords for them to use.  What the hell was it 'that time' of the month all at once around here?

He glances at Pagan and Sandra with a wary eye.  Maybe blondes were immune or just too brain dead to be affected by what ever the darker haired ones were smoking.

He catchs a glimpse of the dangerous glint in Caitlin's eyes and holds up his hands defensively, "t-t-t-ttut~tut~tut tut...  Hurt me and who's going to get the work done for you?  Sure sure.. sure.. what ever you want.  You want j-j-just... get feral over there... okay?  My boys and I have alot of work to do."

'Scooters why they all couldnt be like that Devlin fella.  Took a beating, and was good with it, No lasers around, that's fine.  He's an understanding guy.  Dames...  Can't live without them, but living with them sure makes you want to try.'
This message was last edited by the GM at 19:13, Thu 15 Dec 2011.

"Well it's a new year, and if youre through with your hangover, it's time to get back to the business of earning our keep.  The first new years resolution were going to keep is getting back at those Dracs for Crispin.  Bailey's picked up thier patrol route, and the word is out that Bravo did enough damage, that a convoy is on the way to supply 123rd with new equipment."

"Blueblood, will be cutting off the convoy at a bridge they need to cross to get to the 123rd's base.  A couple of chunky dracs, known as David and Goliath, are suppose to be running shotgun for the convoy, with a light patrol in the area for back up.  Hammer them hard enough to call uncle, and keep them busy so that their boys stey enroute to reinforce them.  Of course...  we'll make sure the reinforcements dont show up."

Nate nods at the Cowboy, "You'll be taking the Pursuit lance out to chase down that lance.  It's a shame for an Eridani to admit it, but we just werent fast enough to get the job done the first time.  They'll be coming to reinforce our diversion.  You get to intercept, keep them busy and hammer them to mush."

Nate thumbs Bailey sitting on the side of the meeting, "Bailey will be flying support to make sure you have a little help to get the job done.  She'll soften them up with a couple of daisies, which should help."

"We all good on the plan then?"

---

Game note:

Pursuit Lance spends 2 prestige to get Bailey to fly support with a couple of Daisey Cutters.

Strike Lance has made no request at this time.   They have till Monday to get their request in.  Fight starts then.  If you dont place yourself, you're where you are on the map to start (on the wrong side of the river).

Blueblood raised an eyebrow at the mention of "clunky dracs".  "Exactly, how clunky are these dracs supposed to be?  Not a pair of assault mechs I hope."  There was a bit of nervousness in his voice, something new that no one else had ever heard from him.  After all, Lieutenant Hinklemeyer-Schmidt had a habit of berating and belittling others with a calm cool confidence most days.

"Just a Goliath and a Hunchback.", Nate comments with offhanded calm, "You'll be at a full lance, so you should be able to manage them.  If you need an AMC or two, to cover the bridge so that you can engage the Dracs freely i'm sure that can be arrangend."

More raised eyebrows was Johan's response.  He wasn't quite sure what to make of Nate's comment, but he personally would never have used the word "just" in front of an 80-ton Goliath.  Still, he nodded and accepted the mission as it stood.  He would check with his fa...more experienced personnel...at command when this is all said and done.

OOC:  hehe....

Scooter went over the repair needs for the most recent operations.  The pursuit lance was still out in the field but the rest of the stallions had come home to the O.K. Corral.

He was tallying off the status of the mechs as they were rolling in for repairs.  He waves Nate through, his mech was in remarkably good shape considering his talent for getting hip deep in shyt.

Devilin was came next, and it was just mostly armor and ammo.  Nothing too hard to fix from the looks of it.  With Hoff's laser installed, there was no need to do any bookwork on the medium laser he lost a few days ago.

Amos made his brow knit slightly.  That leg looked pretty messy, but there didnt seem to be any damage to the structure.  Any more damage and it might have gotten expensive.

Caitlin came next, there was some work needed on the valkyrie's legs... more leg damage, what were they doing fighting a pack of knee biting PBIs?  No doubt she'd want that pig stick sharpened too, where the hell was he going to come up with a whetstone for that???

Next... came the new kid.  Sure enough.  There had to be one in every bunch.  From the front... it didnt look to bad... Just a little damage on the arm, a bit of buffing to get the dents out of the chest... then it parked and Scooter caught a glimpse of the shattered back of the valkyrie.

"Ma~ma~mia... what the frak happened here?  You have a Zeus come up behind you and stuff it's big gun in your back or something?  Gazoooks!"

---

Repair cost.
Devlin - Covered by Supply Pool
Amos - Covered by Supply Pool
Caitlin - Covered by Supply Pool
Johan - NOT Covered by Supply Pool.

Mech Warrior Johan took '3' hits during Mission 4, the medics go to work on him, and he recovers '1' hit for the next mission and will go into fight with '2' hits against the mechwarrior.

Johan's Valkyrie took 33 af damage and 6 internal damage.  Covered by repair pool.

Engine Shield ~ Available on 8+ ~ Cost 100,000 cbills. (not covered by supply pool)
Johan is at +2 bonus to make this roll, (+1 for being a noble and +1 for being an L.T.)

If he makes this roll, he may pay the 100,000 cbills to purchase new shielding for his mech.  If he does not make this roll, the parts are not available.  (You may burn mission five's edge to affect this roll, doing so will exhaust the edge and make it unavailable for mission five.)
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:47, Sat 24 Dec 2011.

Johan looked the grease-stained technician up and down a bit before answering, "I was being a gentleman and a commander, although somehow I don't think it was appreciated.  I suppose it does take people of culture to admire culture."

OOC: Made it!

21:22, Today: 2nd Lt. Johan Jakob Hinklemeyer-Schmidt rolled 10 using 2d6. Engine repair availability roll!

---

Kitten note, will take it out of the missions profits, which just about covers it and leaves you enough for a few beers.
This message was last edited by the GM at 12:19, Sat 24 Dec 2011.

Cat stood beside Scooter as he assessed the damage to her Valkyrie and the others in the lance. "Nope. Twas just a Hunchback. They should be hauling it and the Goliath in for spare parts. The sword needs sharpening by the way." She walked away nonchalantly to where she slept. After that battle she needed to get clean and refreshed before chow. The one thing she despised about living in these circumstances was the lack of hygeine facilities.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:14, Wed 28 Dec 2011.

The Goliath and Hunchback were too close to the 123rd's base to allow salvage teams to move and start recovery.  They do come back with a nice selection of 20 tonners that the Pursuit lance chased down.  It came at a price though, since the Cicada came in wrecked, smoking and bleeding heat from a seriously damaged, as engine coolant leaks out of the cracked shielding.

Scooter just shakes his head disgusted, though keeps the comments to himself.  Camiles in pretty bad shape but the Med techs assure that she'll be oky in a few days if she gets rest.  Till then she 'should' take it easy, but knowing mech warriors, she wont take that advice.

(Camilles is at +1 penalty to Gunnery/Pilot till she heals a wound)

Cost to replace the two engine shielding hits is 100k each hit (200k total)
Base Availability roll is tn 8+

1st roll is at +1 bonus for noble and +1 bonus for Adam's Rank bonus --> tn 6+
2nd roll is at +1 bonus for noble ---> tn 7+

15:19, Yesterday: MW Camille Sforza rolled 9,6 using 2d6,2d6. replacement 6+, 7+. (Pass/Fail)

Edge spent to bump 6 to a 7 (Pass)

---

Between the wounds, and the potential of one or two engine shielding hits, if Camille wants to sit out a mission, Nate will approve it.
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:18, Fri 30 Dec 2011.

The old man looked into the hangar cave that was to be his new home. He shifted in the heavy leather jacket that was scarred and covered in patches. The patches held various titles and house sponsors, but all had the blazing orange letters touting his participation in the Solaris Games. The man walked forward and looked at the nearest person, a young woman that had the look of a pilot about her. "Hey, you know who to talk to for the 6th's pilots?"


Kitten footnote:  The OK Coral is a small cave network at a foot of a mountain.  No Hanger.  The Combine/Dragoons have displaced the Eridanis off anything so nice as a real house.
This message was last edited by the GM at 04:33, Thu 29 Dec 2011.

Camille earned 220k or there about for Bug hunt, 100k of it went to the engine shielding.  Scooter just.. couldnt find another one, blaming Blueblood for stealing the other spare.

Camille is at penalty one to gunnery and pilot, and her mech generates 5 extra heat for mission five.

If you were a guy, Nate would tell you to suck it up and deal with it, it's a war youre suppose to get hurt.  What are you a Pansy Drac with delicate constitution?

but...

Youre a girl, so Nate is old school (even though he'd never admit it), and will let you sit out mission five.  You recover two wounds instead of one if you sit out a mission (and stay under medical care) and you get another roll at engine shielding before you see combat.

However, you see no experience nor cash if you sit it out.  If Camille goes on mission Five, you may elect to be in 'first wave' or 'standby/reinforcement'

Less experience/cash if youre on standby but, also alot less danger.<pre>
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:36, Wed 28 Dec 2011.

Cat turned to face the man, hands stuffed inside her oversized parka, with the name tag FORRESTER stamped on the front, it wasn't hers. She looked at him up and down, clearly assessing him. "I'm one of the 6th. Name's Cat." She flicked her head towards Schmidt in a dismissive, perhaps even disdainful manner. "He's in charge of my lance. You might want to see him."

"Thanks, name's Svend." he said as he nodded an understanding. He knew from the tone that she was pissed about something and he was not going to sit and find out what, lest he became a vent for her anger. He moved to where the girl had indicated and made a slow approach to the man. He cocked an eyebrow as he closed the distance. "You're the one in charge here?"

Johan scanned the newcomer up and down, looking for a sign of proper heritage.  Detecting none, he answered with a bit of a sneer, "Yes.  Fresh reinforcement I presume.  Report to Lieutenant Armstrong for you assignment."

Svend's eyes hardened at the obvious nobility leaking into the man's voice. He spit to the side, his accent thick with Solaris. "I wouldn't call me fresh, boy. The 4th was battered to hell and back and HQ just sent us here. How long have you been on the warpath? A few weeks?" He spit again, a thick,black substance that suggested he was hiding a wad of some sort of chew.

Halo was fresh in from the fields, her hair was still a sweaty mess, and from what Svend could tell she was in a hurry somewhere.  She hadnt properly buttoned down her parka, and from what she could remember the blond mechwarrior detested Hoff for its cold winter.

She was dragging Adam along behind her into the caves for some reason.  Both were fellow survivors from 4th Company.  Adam was the closest thing the 4th had left to resemble an officer of some sort, and he was only a Corporal.  Halo Svend knew was a pretty blond with more talents than brains.

"Cmon Cowboy... time to pay up.", you hear her comment as she drags Adam off somewhere.  If they werent in such a hurry they might have been good friendly faces to point you in the right direction.

---

Adam, Sandra, Svend, Mihail, and Jillian are all surviving members of 4th Company.  A patrol going wrong... An ambush by the Black Widows... and an unexpected mindfield led to a pretty awful day for 4th Company.

"God dammit we cant get a break, even when we clean their clocks it's an expensive victory.", a rugged looking L.T. grumbles as he's coming down from his enforcer.  He didnt look to be in a good mood but he did stop to look at you with a quizzled look.  The compound was pretty small, and it wasnt hard to spot new faces in it.

It was a nice little hide away arrangement making use of a natural over hang to avoid aerial recon, and a cave network for shelter.  That they still had infantry left was nice too.  Many hands made for light work... not to mention honest to god real technicians.

Svend counted Six mechs in the area.
An Enforcer, Whitworth, Panther, and a pair of Valks.  All with the dark rearing stallion sillouette of 6th Company's unit emblem.

Also in the area were some familiar mechs from 4th company.
Adam's Clint, Sandra's Mongoose, Mikhail's Valkyrie and of course his own Firestarter.  Jillians ride should have been here too but she was late arriving.  The sillouette of a prancing horse profile of 4th Company's unit emblem were painted on these mechs.  All were damage and in need of mainteance.  The 4th didnt have technicians handy which has been part of their woes.

Mixed were a pair of mech with Davion markings, a Cicada and another Valkyrie.  In all there were 12 mechs, though they were an odd looking lot from everywhere it seemed.

Nate offers Svend a nod as he approachs, extending his arm to shake.  "Another one of Mac's boys?  He was a good guy, sorry to hear the news  We share your pain, we lost our captain a few months ago too.", condolances are offered over 4ths lost captain.

"Svend we'll talk later..." was all Adam got out with a half smile as Halo passed by with him in tow.  It was only the fact that the Javelin had survived that had him stewing a bit and slowing down his walking.

As they passed the partition he pulled her arm just enough to get her to spin so he could lift her over his shoulder to carry her the rest of the way his voice fading to the others, "You know it Halo"

There wasnt alot of privacy at the OK Coral.  It was after all a small cave network and there wasnt alot of places to be for privacy.  The main cavern was always too busy.

It was a choice between smaller caves then, and Halo decided to take her Cowboy to the smaller supply cave.  Stacks of accumulated supplies were everywhere and some semblance of privacy was possible.  Pausing outside the cave she kicks off her boots leaving them behind to let anyone know the cave was occupied and being 'used'.

It took next to no time for her to strip out of her parka.

"C'mon Cowboy, you going to keep me waiting or what?  It's cold you know, you would want me to catch a cold now would you?", she whispers in that sultry voice of hers.

The parka hit the cavern floor and would make for a reasonable bed for her planned activites.  Impatient, she applies her nimble fingers to make quick loosening Adam's garments loose.

"Don't give me that look... you promised..."

* Fade to black as Mature rating censors kick in *

In reply to 1st Lt. Nate Armstrong (msg #228):

Svend nodded his head, turning his shoulder to the young noble before he could get his words in. Svend noted Sandra dragging Adam out of the corner of his eye, chuckling internally at how things never changed. He then resumed extending his hand to the officer that was greeting him now. "Yes sir. A damn shame. Man wasn't afraid to buy drinks for his men like a good officer should. On paper my name is Svend Nemerson, but folks in the 4th called me a slew of names relating to my graying hair. Call me what you like, LT, but know that some names come with a fist."

He made a cocked smile and spat another large loogie of chew and saliva on the floor.

Devlin walks into the cave, really needing a drink.  He sees a few members of the unit inside, along with some he doesn't know. He walks over to where Caitlin is talking to a new one.

Rabbit, sorry about...stuff.  I hope we put it behind us and move on.

Doc gives Johan a quick look, applying a medi patch and putting a bandage over a few open cuts and injuries.  There was alot of brusing and collateral damage, but nothing that should keep him off the battlefield unless he felt like just hiding in bed.  Not likely.  Combat was like a drug to these mech jocks.  Something about several tons of fighting metal around a person that makes them feel invincible. Stupid... really stupid.

She exhales a sigh as she looks over Camille, her injuries were alot worse.  She broke out the preserving sleeve to patch up a nasty arm wound, and set up a neck brace hoping there wasnt anything permanently wrong with her.  She whistles sharply for a couple of guys from Charlie to come and take her into the cave.  This one was going to need bed rest... alot of bed rest.  Not that they'd stay in bed long.  So she was going to have to tie this one down till it Nate told her she had to let her go.

Stupid.  That feeling of invicibility was sure to get them all killed.  The Bravos... they felt their mortality every time they hit the field, and that kept them sharp and careful.

Holly was contemplating stealing some of Sandy's infernos.  She wouldnt know, would she.  It wasnt like she NEEDED the voltile munitions when you considered the way she ran the heat scale up on her mech to stay warm.

The quiet little blond represses a shiver, she related to the sentiment, but was alot less vocal about her comfort with the weather.  She caught a glimpse of twin dragging Cowboy off for her after combat.

She shook her head some where between amused and worried.  She always had a jump in the bag with her favorite boy toy after a close one.  She was nearly awol with cowboy for a two night and a day, when the Dancing Horses had that really bad fight.  Hopefully it wasnt too bad and she would be around for evening mess call to ask about the fight.

The Ok Coral was... well, okay for what it was.  Holly really couldnt complain.  It was better than sleeping in your rides and doing repairs on the run and in open field.  It was 'tight' though, and with 4th company's equipment gathered in, there just wasnt enough space to keep everything concealed.  They were forced to put units out in the open under camo, or out on patrol to make enough room for those that needed repairs.

They were going to be needing something 'larger' soon.

it took a while before Camille came to, when she did she groaned, and scanned the med ward in their cavern for any of the personnel.
"Ugh... How long was I out?, feel like I've built a weeks appetite"
It was the same thing every time she got injured, she always woke up ravenous, and she was always grumpy about it, hunger made Camilel a distinctly unhappy person, and an unhappy Camille was not fun company.

"Dont be so melodramatic.  It's only been a day.  They bought you in and i sedated you to sleep through the night.  Honestly you mech jocks are such babies.  You're a mess."

Claudia taps an IV beside Camille, "This is your breakfast at the moment.  It's alot more efficient at feeding your body what it needs than that stuff at the chow line.  Dont even think about getting out of bed, Nate said you were mine AT LEAST untill the next operation."

---

Claudia doesnt look familiar, though she does dress and smell nicer than scooter.  When Scooter was treating your injuries you always worried that motor oil or something was getting mixed into the stuff they were pumping into your body.  He was a good tech.. med tech... well that was another story.
This message was last edited by the player at 15:47, Thu 29 Dec 2011.

Camilel chuckled, then grimaced.
okay, laughter or such, not pleasant
She looked up at the woman standing above her.
"at least you're clean, the Last time I was here, I worried I might get engine oil in the IV rather than plasma"
then she looked at the tube and sighed.
"well the upside is I don't have to taste field rations while on that"
she moved a hand to her side, and as close to her neck as it could get.
"your work i presume?"

Claudia nods, nearby Johan was begrudgingly suffering a similiar fate.  Both were injured, both needed to take it 'easy' or they werent going to mend much at all.

"You should both simmer down and sit down the next fight, but  i suspect neither one of you are going to listen to me.  Mechwarriors are notorious for ingnoring medical advice that might save their lives."

Claudia's eyes flick from Camille to Johan with disapproval.  Even self righteous jerks needed medical treatment.  There was nothing about her oath that said she had to make it painless.  Johan hadnt mistreated her enough to warrent such behaviour, at least not yet.

Rabbit turned her head, looking harshly and angrily at Wolfman, before her expression softened. "Not your fault, Wolfman, and no offence or anything but with the reorg, you probably won't be around when Schmidt" Cat purposefully mispronounced Johan's last name "decides to throw his weight around again."

Devlin smiles at Caitlin

From what I've seen of the reorg, you're the lucky one.  Me and Amos get stuck with the Loowey.  You get to move on. You're gonna be with Mikhail and Jillian in Strike lance.  Lucky you.

Closing the canopy on his VTOL Dom was still undecided about dropping the little anti-infantry weapons that he had on his Warrior for the field refit that Bailey in the 6th had made popular lately.  Bombs were nice enough but pretending that an artillery round was a 'bomb' was a dicey thing.  Spotting Holly he walked on over as he hunched his shoulders in his cold weather gear to stay warm as he shook his head, "Too much gear, too little space.  Those damn Dragoons are going to spot this place and light it up with their aero assets."

Cat brightened up instantly. "Seriously? That's awesome news. Well....for me. Obviously. You might want to ask the doc for antidepressants." her expression turned to suspicion. "You're not messing around with me...are you? If you are, you'll be sorry. Oh...actually" Cat looked towards Johan's valkyrie a mischievous look on her face. "hmmmm. I have a plan."

Holly shrugs, "It no worse than making field repairs in the open field.  At least we have a roof over our head and real techs to fix our stuff.  No joy doing maintenance while looking over your shoulder to see if the Dragoons have found you.  They look almost as beaten up as us.  If you discount the infantry, i think there are more dancing horses her than wild stallions.  Their house though, so if it means having a roof over our heads, they can call me the magic ponies for all i care.  What's in a name?"

As the mechwarrior group was gathered for the most part, the 2nd lieutenant decided to clear his throat for attention to make an annoucement.  "Here are the new assignments.  I'm sure it will be a disappointment to some of you, but these are final and have the full blessing of Lieutenant Armstrong and command.  The mobile lance will be staying together as a unit, while the pursuit lance will be headed by Corporal Carlyle and will take in the reminents of the 4th company.  Many of you are already familiar with the corporal.  The lieutenant will continue to lead the strike lance.  That is all."

Cat turned to Wolfman, an angry scowl on her face. "Fudge you." She kicked him in the shins and stomped out of the Mech bay.

OOC:Posting from work. will replace innocuous words when I get home.

Nate rolled his eyes, the kid was green.  That really wasnt all.

"Yes... sort of.  New ops are already being discussed.  We're going to give Scooter and his team three days to get everything fixed and then were going to sack the 123rds base."

"THREE Days ?!?", Scooter didnt seem too pleased with the work schedule.  The Cicada and Blue Bloods Valkyrie were going to need some serious work, and that was only if he was going to be able to find parts.

"I object... He's walking wounded, and this one is going to be lucky to wake up in the morning.", Claudia points out Johan and Camille.

"Three days.", Nate repeats more firmly.

"The Dracs cant be in any better shape.  We stomped the Goliath and Hunchback into the dirt, and we have a lance of light mechs that use to belong to them sitting in the yard.", Nate continues.

"A lance that isnt going to be touched anytime soon if you want to be ready in three days...", Scooter comments rubbing his chin.

"If we hit them in three days, they wont have mech support.  Battalion has other operations going on that should keep them thin on reinforcements.  If we can hit them in this time frame they'll only have a couple lances to fight with and a company of second string reserves.  Battalion has promised us a couple of thumper fire missions to soften them up.", Nate makes a shooing motion and thumbs at Blue Blood, "... and now, what he said scoot along now.  Nothing happening here."

---

Devlin has a WTF!! look on his face.  Then he looks over to the command board where the final listing are posted and sees that apparently the Loowey pulled some strings to make a few last minute changes.  Things were never going to get sorted out unless he left them alone.

Amos made his way to the command board. He checked his assignment. "Yeah figures." He glanced at Wolfman, "Guess the three of us got to work harder to keep his lordship from failing."

He decided that he was going to need that drink. Amos headed to his usual place where he liked to drink. The ammo depot.

This message was last edited by the player at 04:24, Fri 30 Dec 2011.

Ooc- A MCV pulls up, and unloads a Hatchetman, under the completely unneccessary supervision a young blonde woman in snow camo topped by, of all things, a wolfskin cape, who nods to herself and strides over to the main group.

Jillian watched as the Hatchetman was unloaded, and nodded approval as her techs moved over to check exactly what the ham-fisted peasants that this planet called loaders had done to it. She looked around for this Lt Armstrong, and was pleasantly surprised to see him there. 'I guess they can't all be idiots' she thought, striding over to him. "Court or Field' she wondered. He wasn't wearing any House badges that she could see, so she settled for field.

If she read those rank tabs correctly he ranked her, and she drew herself up, slapping an arm to her chest in salute. "Lt Armstrong? Ensign Anderson, 3rd platoon, Alpha company, Andersons. I have a Hatchetman, and have been assigned to you for this operation."
This message was last edited by the player at 11:33, Sat 31 Dec 2011.

(* sigh *)

One more time Jillian.  Mechs do not mount armored infantry until 3050.  The time frame for the current battle tech game is 3025, which uses 'classic' old school rules before armored infantry.  Just... 'normal' infantry, that you might see running around today.
This message was last edited by the GM at 13:05, Fri 30 Dec 2011.

Svend was pleased to find the notification of the experimental tech for the Firestarter. It was an AMS, which would prove useful when closing with the enemy. He looked at the Firestarter and decided that sacrificing one of the Medium Lasers to give his targeting system a break, not to mention cut down on heat, was worth it. He found the resident mechanic, Scooter, and explained the plan. "I know the boys in the lab coats haven't given us much, but I figured pulling out the Medium on the left arm will give us both the power and computing cycles we need to install this badboy on my Lucky Lady. Sound good?"

Scooter looks at the specs and rubs his chin.  He's got misgivings about doing that.  Putting the Vulcan system in the arm means the AMS system may interfere with the use of weapons in that arm.  He things the system is plenty glitchy as it is and that youre crazy to even be installing it.

He suggests swapping it out for a hard mounted torso weapon.  It would limit the arc that it could react, but it would also keep the AMS software from hi-jacking the targeting system for the other arm weapons.

Youre the boss though, you want it in the arm he'll stuff it in the arms.

(He points to a large gaping hole in the Firestarters Right Torso where the MG's ammo use to be stored)

"We can remove the laser off your arm, and stick it in there.  Good?"
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:34, Fri 30 Dec 2011.

Svend was shaking his head at the thought. The system was risky. He nodded at Scooter's idea of mounting it to the center of mass. Svend let the man know to make it happen. "Do what you have to, Scooter. Center is better."

Cat walked back in from outside, having an animated but friendly discussion with Pegan. "Really....and it only fires if it gets a lock on? And then it's guaranteed to hit, and you want to test it on my Valk? I guess my answer would have to be Hell yes!" Her eyes fixated on Scooter and she walked over to see him.

"Uh Scooter, the brainboxes here want to test out some new gear on my Valkyrie. Some kinda new fangled system that stops ammo explosions from wrecking your mech and some kind of new SRM system. Any chance you can get it installed before the next op?" Cat batted her eyelashes at the tech, hoping he would find it cute and adorable instead of annoying given how many other women there were around competing for his professional services. "I can throw in a dessert ration to sweeten the deal."

It was day after Operation Home Run, and the Wild Stallions luck was starting to look like maybe... just maybe it was going to change.

The Pursuit lance and Air Cavalry had beat the shit out of the partol on the west side, but manage to keep the equipment intact for salvage.

The Mobile and Strike lance had kept their half of the base preoccupied, forcing them to expend munitions that was going to hurt the Combine defenders in the long run.

It was a crafty call to make a true that would allow the base commander to evac out with most of his men and equipment intact.  It would have been nicer to just trap and crush them here and now the way the plan was meant to go down, but Nate couldnt complain too much.

6th Company was eating under a roof tonight.  The rest of Battalion and what was left of the other Eridanis and Davion Militia in the area was falling back here to make it a hardpoint to fight from.

The Wild Stallions had their choice of bunkers to call home.  Space was going to be limited and tight but it was at least a real roof, and other units would be in the area to keep the Combine honest.

The only problem was... with this planned success, Battallion had decided to give him his promotion, and take him out of 6th Company up to Battalion HQ.  It was a fraking waste.  He wanted to fight not push little toys around on a map.  The mood in the company was mixed, and he wanted to be certain to keep it on the positive side.  They had did good.  They had bloodied the Combines nose and made them cry uncle.  It was the first step to throwing them off the planet.

Pagan made an appearance in the bunker, stepping over bits of equipment strewn about the hanger, that didnt quite make it into the Combines hands for removal.

"Captain Armstrong.  6th Company has gathered to throw a belated New Years Party.  Will you make an appearance and give them the news?", she comments curious at the newly promoted captain's sullen mood.

"Yeah Peggy, I'm on it.  They're a good crew.  Take care of my boys then.  By this time tommorrow Schmidt, as the  more senior L.T., will be in charge of the Stallions.  The troops are going to love hearing that.", Nate shrugs into the warm leather jacket he favored over the winter parkas that was standard issue, "Nothing that needs mentioning tonight.  Tonight we party.  Can i interest you in a drink in exchange for a New Years Kiss L.T."

Peggy gave the rugged captain a thoughtful look.  He was easy on the eyes and had a certain boyish charm that she was sure had wooed many before her.  Still, he looked like he could use a little honest company tonight.  "The nights still young, am i on the list for your list of conquest for the new years resolution?"

"Nope.  Just got one resolution to throw the Dracs and Wolves off Hoff.", he comments with his boyish grin soundings totally ridiculous and sincere at the same time.

"Well... then thats something i can drink to.", Pagan comments as she turns out the lights to the hanger as she exits a step behind Nate.

Svend found himself sitting at whatever passed for the drinking hole in their current setup, nursing a bottle of clear liquid. It was obvious that he was upset. He had the stare of a man in deep contemplation and regretting his decision to stay there. Instead he simply swirled the potent liquid in the glass he was using to make himself at least try to resist drinking straight from the bottle itself.

Cat stood in the shower for a very very long time. It was good to have running water again, but running hot water. The sensation was almost sinful, and she still had some of the Snake body wash and shampoo left. A small smile appearing on her face, Cat could almost forget everything over the last few days. She rested her head against the wall trying not to fall asleep in the sheer bliss of a hot shower.

The new tech Scoot said that he would be able to get her vtol patched up and running by new by the morning.  Damage this time was really light, and the worst of it seemed to have been inflicted on her whirly bird.  That was good enough news to put her in a good mood.  There was a small celebratory party being held for repopulating the base they were forced to depart several months ago.

With precise aim, Holly bounces a beer nut off Svend's head, and has her disarming smile ready to go to meet his expected dour mood.

"Why the long face Backdraft?  Thinking about people that should be here to celebrate the victory that's not?"

Jillian nodded out the window of the barracks as Nate went past. "See the look on his face? What makes you think it has just hit him that making full Lt, that's Captain to you yokels, has just taken him out of the field. Serious mixed feelings there."
She shrugged. "You want to make Captain, you do the staff time."

Another shrug, and she had an appointment with the shower.

Even as the rest of the company bemoaned Nate's fate and griped about what was about to happen, there was one person that seemed pleased.  He hadn't gotten another promotion...yet.  Perhaps, the powers that be...which seemingly favored him...were redirected this time.  Still, to him, the result was the same.  It looked as if Lieutenant Hinklemeyer-Schmidt would be leading the company.

The result was predictable.  To picture it, one had to only think about Aesop's fable...the one about the ox and the frog.  In that story, the frog had puffed out his chest so hard that it had exploded and perished.  Doubtless, many others in the 6th Recon Company of the Eridani Light Horse Regiment hoped that he would suffer a similar fate.  Simply put, he strutted...and nodded knowingly at the others.  Knowing what...nobody knew, but everyone was in a hurry to the showers to get the disgusting feeling off them...even the men of the company.

Holly was chatting with some of the guys from Hotel.  They were an okay bunch but they had a very poor opinion of the mechwarriors that had gotten them all shot up on an infantry ops.

Watching the Mech Jocks across the room, for some reason they always  seemed to keep to themselves for the most part, she caught wind of a shake up in command.  It was all internal politics which had no place on the field but here in the bunk house she was sure an ill wind was blowing.  Times like this she was glad she fell under Captain Garabaldo's command.

Still.. she wasnt heartless, she felt bad for Sandy.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:40, Mon 09 Jan 2012.

Cowboy was making the rounds while the boys and girls of the unit where doing up a late New Years Eve celebration.  He let them party since they needed a break for a number of reasons.  He still hadn't heard any word from Command, Johan or Nate and that made him concerned.  Not so much that he was banging down doors but it was having an effect on his men and women and he didn't like that one bit.

They had been in the dark for some time after the 4th got hammered by the Dragoons until he finally had received word to rally what was left at the 6th's base of operations.  Despite his callsign he didn't do the lone gun of the pulp fiction old wild west routine very well, especially since he felt like the lawman trying to make the compromises that no one wanted.

He made sure to thank his aero-support since most mechwarriors tended to keep apart from other branches.  Seeing Holly he passed on by her, "Thanks for the assist Holly...or should I say doing our heavy lifting.  Give you guys another couple reloads we could have sat back while you crippled the entire Drac force..."

"Jimmy deserves the credit more than me, he single handedly took out that Striker and led the way after the bulldog.  Good thing we stood down when we did, the retal was going to be a bitch.  The turrets at the base were going online too, so i guess we cant complain too much, we might have narrowly escaped getting shot down."

"Turrets would have been our job...and the couple of artillery hits.  That is what we're built for and it's hard to miss an immobile target especially with something as big as Goth's PPC.  You would have been kept back to cut off any runners that tried to slip us but that is neither here nor there.  Thanks none the less.  Seen Jimmy around so I can thank him too?" asked Adam as he nodded to the rest of the Hotel crew.

Amos enjoyed the drinks and the new facilities. He found himself an wooden barrel. He rolled it into the showers and filled it to the brim. A good soak did wonders for the mechwarrior. Then he wandered outside with a bottle of brandy and joined the celebration.

Amos waited until the others in his lance appeared. "Come on. Let's drink up and enjoy the celebration. And." Amos raised his voice. "I think we should also celebrate taking the base without too much trouble. The LT made a good call." He looked around and waved at Johan.
This message was last edited by the player at 07:36, Tue 10 Jan 2012.

In reply to Pvt. Holly Day (msg #259):

Svend immediately turned, ready to fight the person that was antagonizing him and saw it was Holly. He resumed his drinking, this time taking a long slug from the bottle. "I'm pissed we didn't give the Dracs a good enough beating. We had them dead to rights and it is deemed they are to be let loose?"

He grumbled and went back to nursing his liquor bottle only to turn back to Holly and point at her, his finger wagging back and forth. "You know, it doesn't seem right. The Dancers took a beating, lost good men and women and just when we are able to get a chance to let them rest a little easier, that chance is snatched away." He was drunk and obviously emotional. "God damn noble bastards."

Thing were moving along well, and half way through the party Nate lets it be known that he was departing command of 6th Company to take up a position at Battalion HQ, which was in 'dire need' of experience officers at they put it.  Their words not his.

It's fairly obvious that this was more of a mandatory promotion than a voluntary one.  Nate manages to eke out a replacement pilot from 2nd Company to fill in the vacancy he's leaving behind.  He announces a bunch of promotions as well at this time, figuring the good news of fellow mech warriors being promoted, would be a good thing for morale.

(If youre taking advantage of the discounted rank bump for having leadership or noble, Nate notes it here, and now is the time to acknowledge it)
This message was last edited by the player at 17:32, Tue 10 Jan 2012.

Camille for one accepts the promotion offered, it did lighten her mood, and help dimm her dislike for Johan, still, he'd denied he salvage, he'd gotten promoted time and again, and he'd denied her a bite of her vengeance.

So Limping slightly cause of the injury to her side she approached Nate for it.

---

Kitten added...

Nate presented Camille with a letter of promotion and the double barred stripes to prove that she was a corporal.  It seemed like such a small thing and yet... it wasnt.

(dont forget to drop me a not to tell me where the experience is going, else it gets banked in ust 'experience'.)
This message was last edited by the GM at 18:04, Tue 10 Jan 2012.

Adam had been looking for James unsuccessfully when Nate made his announcement.  He was pleasantly surprised when Camille received her promotion as well as unsurprised when Johan received his as well as full command of the 6th.  That boy had a mommy or daddy dancing him at the strings.

Still worst that he could do is actually give him suicidal orders which at that point being a fellow officer he could relieve him of command for being bat shit bonkers to have him committed somewhere far from any chance of harming someone else.  Most likely he'd just continue ignoring Cowboy like he had to this point, safe in his position as a stepping stone to making Captain, eventually moving on from the 6th to be someone elses problem.  He just had to keep everyone, 4th and 6th, alive till that day rolled around.

So he clapped like others for everyone getting their promotions but kept his head low for all those that had to die to make them possible.  Sometime later that night he needed to track down Halo and thank her properly for fragging that Striker in front of him and convincing them to evac before they could pepper his ride with missiles.

Huffing and puffing, Oliver goes looking for Scooter. Wearing his vest and knit orange cap, he checks the various technician's areas, "Scooter here?" he asks repeatedly as he hunts around.

Eventually he finds the man and offers a hand to shake, "Hey there best friend of mine, could I talk you into doing some work on my baby boy?" he asks and hooks a finger towards wherever his mech might be standing.

Even as the short man speaks, he bounces on his toes energetically.

"Yeah... that's me.  Whatcha want?", Scooter stifles a yawn from where he was sleeping with his tools.  For once damage had been light and he had time to catch zzz, under a real room with real central heat... tommorow a bath... when was the last time he had one of those... wait... this kid looks like he's about to pee any minute now, best get his priorities straight.

"Simmer down, you found me... whazzup?"

Sliding his hands up under his hands up into his armpits, the energetic young man grins at the snaggle-toothed mechanic.

"Well, a couple of the lasers on my wolfhound are rear facing, I'd like to get them rotated," the Reaper explains, and of course, he looks nothing like a guy who should be called such a call sign but that is the nature of call signs, they don't always make the most sense.

To explain what he means by rotated he does a little half-spin with his hand and then says, "Forward facing. I mean, I get the whole shooting people behind me thing, but really, I think it makes more sense to have all my guns going one way."

After a second he adds, "Wait, you know what.. some guys from R&D were talking about some coolant system, did that arrive yet? I'd swap it for that." Leaning in, he tells the man, "I'll get you a good case of bourbon for it. Whaddya say?" and he waggles his eyebrows up under that brilliant orange cap.

All smiles.
This message was last edited by the player at 17:26, Wed 11 Jan 2012.

Maybe it was the fact that it was his birthday just the day before, but when Johan got his promotion letter, it was a genuine surprise...and all smiles for the newly minted first lieutenant.  That was more like it.  Still, he wasn't about to celebrate it with the group of riff-raff such as it was.  So he quietly stepped out from the group and didn't offer any words to the company...at least not yet.  Besides, it was probably a noble thing to let Nate have his last day in the sun here at least.

So, he exited the party.  Just as he cleared the doorway, he could hear an explosion of cheers and the real part getting started.  Just as he thought...riff-raff.

Camille didn't stay for the celebrations either, not so much because she was a haugty bitch, (she was), more because the injuries to her side had sprung open during that last assault and she needed the med attention.

Running into his injured lancemate just outside the door, Johan proposed, "Corporal Sforza, maybe I help you to the infirmary."  And after an awkward pause.  "Oh...and congratulations."  He then stepped up close to her and offered an arm for support.

Camille kept a straight face, and accepted his gracious offer.
"Why thank you, that is very noble of you Sir"
while speaking though, inwardly her thoughts were another matter.
I'd rather kiss a Toad

Cat had a good time at the party, especially after the new company commander left. The alcohol was flowing and whatever she'd done to offend Amos, he seemed to be over it, though he still seemed a little stand-offish.

She managed to wangle a dance from Nate as well as a promise he'd send her some more dessert rations when he had the time. It was a new Year and one worth celebrating, they were still alive after months of fighting. She raised a glass of something old and powerful to honour the spirits of the lost during the last year. So many names. So many people. She gasped as the spirit burned her throat on the way down, a mild pain, worthy of the sacrifice of the others.

"Why did you go get killed Crispin? You should see the a***ole they put in charge." she whispered to the void, before smiling in fond memories and moving back to join the others.

January 4 to January 6, 2024

The party was over, and the sobering problems of retaking Hoff still presented themselves as a problem to be solved the next day.  The fighting 6th, settle in on a choice bunker that was positioned on the NE corner of the base.  It was one of the closest to the base making it convient, and the nearness of the mountains made it less exposed and easier to defend.

6th Battalion HQ set up shop in the base proper, while 2nd Company took up residence in one of the bunkers watching the back door.

The other two bunkers were 'guest' bunkers, allowing a place for the fatigued Davion militia and other elements of the Eridani 151st Light Horse Regiment to house up and rest.

Over the span of the next few days there were two to four companies of mechs stationed at the base, it was very impressive on paper till you accounted, that they mostly partial units or units in need of repair.  Conventional support was moved in the share the bunkers and business quickly started to settle back to the task of taking the next base.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------


6th Battalion had looked over the numbers, the Eridani and Davion militia was going to have to make an effort to pry the starport out of the Combines hands.  It was that or the combine was going to starve out the militia and Eridanis by choking out their supplies, and then it was just a matter of time before they would have to capituate and surrender.

At the moment, various elements of 6th Company were gathered for the next leg of operations.  The Eridani's needed to whittle down the Combine's support in the area.  A broad expanse was highlighted.  Artillary was dropping during the taking of the base, and accurately without spotters.  To ensure the safety of the base, and to deny the Combine artillary support, the Eridani's needed to take them out.

There was a Dragoon Light Company patrolling the area.  The Dragoons were hard hitting and dangerous and not to be underestimated.  They were expected to be a good fight for the Eridanis.  The Eridani needed to engage, and hold their attention for (10 turns) the length of the operations and then were allowed to withdraw at the commanders option as opportunity allowed (you may not be in range of enemy weapons when you withdraw).

While the the Wolves were being distracted by 6th Company, their air cavalry will engage the conventional support protecting their artillary.  Taking out mobile enemies of opportunity will be their priority targets.  Taking out their artillary pieces will be considered a secondary objective for them.

The static targets... are to be left to the Bravos, who in the confusion of the attack will take the opportunity to call down artillary on their fortifications and field pieces.

It was thankful to probably both persons that the walk was a short one, because it was quickly apparent how awkward it was.  After a while, Johan spoke, but he never turned to look at Camille.  "Your injuries and fighting spirit do you credit, but it is clear these...these pilots don't know how to act around their betters.  Doubtless, Lieutenant Carlyle was a bit too...too distracted by having Mechwarrior Day on his lance.  So, rest assured, once I am in command, I will be reorganizing the unit and transferring Ms. Day to where I can keep my eye on her."

He paused here, putting a second hand...no doubt intended to be reassuring on Camille's.  "After that, you should be more easily accorded the respect and pro...protection...er, not that you need it...that you deserve."

He had just finished saying this when the pair arrived at the infirmary.  He finally turned to face her to say.  "Unless, you have anything else you may need, good night, corporal.  I hope you feel better soon."  He dropped her hands and turned to go....

This message was deleted by the player at 16:48, Thu 12 Jan 2012.

"thank you, but for now all i need is our doc and some rest"
and you elsewhere
She limped free of him, gave a nod, and grimaced as she ehaded for the medical bunk assigned to her untill she was truly fit for fight.

well at least she'd get a medal somewhere someday, and the promotion was nice too.
"take care to get the res toyu need as well, i doubt they'll let us sit here for long"

Having received word from his sources, Cowboy made his way over to Scooters new 'office' with a simple wooden box containing his favorite sin.  Waiting for him to get done with Oliver and Devlin he places the box down when they are done talking, "The shipment should be coming in tomorrow Scooter so I need your help.  I've got next to nowhere available in tonnage to shift to carry around two full tons of ammo.  What I need you to do is segment my existing bin into two half-ton bins with a rapid switch allowing me to flip between my regular rounds and the precision ones with ease to hit those hard targets that those things are made for."

After the unit returns, Devlin makes his way over to Scooter's office.  He knocks on the door and enters.

Hey Scooter.  I need some refit done. I need ta swap that medium pulse laser out for the extended range medium laser.  I like a knife fight but dang, I gotta be able to smell their breath to use this thing. 

Scooter nods, and agrees, the lab boys have enough data on the pulse later, and are ready to swap it out for ER lasers to field test so they're willing to make it so.

No cost swapping the RA PML for a RA ERML.

Any thoughts that the company will miss Lt. Armstrong were quickly confirmed with the first briefing led by...okay, not so much led maybe...1st Lieutenant Hinklemeyer-Schmidt.  He had brought in a stack of papers and pictures that he spent a great deal of time putting up for the others to see...not that anyone could see anything sitting from the back rows of the meeting room.

The meeting was held even delayed further by the loud...and very obvious...snoring of the Irish VTOL pilot named Flanigan, who was still hung over from the party.  The lieutenant visibly fumed and went red in the face a bit...even threw something at the guy, but missed...to the humor of the attendees.  Finally, it was an extra loud snore on the part of Flanigan that woke him up and the meeting got started.

"Good morning, ladies and gentlemen.  I have made some strategically optimized reassignments in the company to make better use of synergies.  The new lance assignments will be as follows..."  Moaning and groaning ensued for anyone placed in the Strike Lance, while the others simply smiled at their good fortune.  Halo was being reassigned, and her spot was being filled by Reaper.

He continued, "...those assignments are final.  Now, HQ, courtesy of Lieutenant Armstrong, has provided us with a mission to take out the artillery units of the Combine...or at least to distract the company of mechs guarding it.  The mechs are not part of the standard Combine, but a mercenary unit of the Wolf's Dragoons...."

This was the last part of his presentation that made any sense to anyone.  What happened next was not only confusing, but self-contradictory, lasting over an hour.  No one was sure if he even knew what he was talking about...let alone understand him.  In short, it was a disaster, and it was embarrassing for the new lieutenant.  The company was so shell-shocked that it was unsurprising no one raised his/her hand when he called for questions.  The lieutenant dismissed everyone and left.

There was a whole lot of murmuring and nasty talk in whispers, when Peggy stood up and walked to the front.  She cleared her throat for attention and delivered a much clearer, much more succinct.  The company came to understand their new assignment (as Kitten had posted it in msg #279).

Adam knew that the first briefing by Johan might be interesting and thus he had brought his vocorder and a pad of paper with pen to take notes.  He did actually try to take some notes simply because he was trying to figure out if the man was a certifiable genius that the unit was underestimating or if he was just certifiable.

By the end of the hour he had his answer...

Looking to Svend, Camille and Oliver he tilted his head and said to them, "We've got a lot of work to do and not much to do it with.  Reaper, talk to Backdraft and Goth here about how we'll handle this.  I'm going to round up Valkyrie and Dom to give us a hand."

Sandy looked more puzzled than anyone else.  It was synergetic to move her out of the Dancing Horses?  Since when?  She kept giving Adam a puzzled look and wondered if this was some sort of obscure brush off, or solution for alleviating a messy officer/enlisted tryst.

Holly was totally lost during Schmidts briefing.  The bit about all the VTOLs carpet bombing the starport, in preparation of the LAM delivered infantry to capture drop ships intact while the mechs fought off ... naval (?) assets and something about Bravo taking out a railgun before the operation...

She was certain he had lost the real briefing and was ad libbing from a holo vid... maybe several holo vids... maybe several bad holo vids... really really really bad holovids.

It was nice that Pagan was more... understandable.  April was still pretty far away or she'd laugh and write this off as a big joke.

When she was done she had her hand up...
"M'am.... mmm... sir?  The nightmares are being assigned close support.  Have final assignments been determined yet?"

Shell shocked was pretty much how Halo felt.  Lt. A-Hold had just totally FUBARed a debriefing with... alot of...

Words failed to come to her for something appropiate.  None of it made sense.  None of it.  Lt. Kelswa made alot more sense, but there was a nagging concern.  She didnt correct the, obvious, mistake in lance assignments.

Adam was... ignoring her... Adam was already consulting with West like he was part of the lance.  He knew... the Sonuva***** knew...

words are too pastel to describe her emotional state at the moment, she totally lost focus for the rest of the meeting.  Holly was paying attention though.  She would fill her in on anything important she needed to know.

Amos looked around. He wanted to speak with Devlin about their new lance commander. "So whatda think about our new LT." He rolled his to the left to where Jillian Anderson was standing. "Thought you'd be in charge of the lance."

Adam shook his head to Sandy slightly during the briefing and waited till after setting the rest of Pursuit to task to head over to Holly and her stepping close to Halo speaking quietly, "Schmidt's idea, not mine, and since his mommy pulled some more strings to get him promoted yet again I can't do anything about it...yet."

"And yeah Holly, word is you and the Irishman are flying support for the Lt. and it isn't this Lt." he filled her in on what little he had been told.
This message was last edited by the player at 01:58, Fri 13 Jan 2012.