Two Mech pilots walk in the WasteLands.
Standing at about 20 meters in height with black and grey cameo armor plating, the head adorned with a hood like helmet to guard against snipers from the sides and behind, deep green metallic eyes gazed out on the wastes while a young man sat on the mech’s shoulder, scanning the horizon through a pair of binoculars. Plain by most mobile suit standards yes, but what it lacked in flare Jastun had made sure it made up for in combat versatility.
The machine wore two giant bastard swords at its waste for close quarters combat, a decent energy barrier that could take a beating for about an hour from most weapons as long as he rationed it properly, and for long range he had a set of plasma pistols stored in the legs of this particular unit, sadly using them siphoned from his shield reserves so those were for emergencies.
“Hmmmmmmm, lets see what you have for me today.” The pilot muttered as he turned a slow circle, looking for anything in the apocalyptic land before him that may prove useful. After a few moments he spotted it, and old fueling station!
“No way.” He muttered in disbelief, it looked to be in almost decent repair. Maybe he could get some extra fuel into his back up engines after so long!
Quickly he climbed to the back of his machine and slipped into the cockpit, flipping a few switches, causing the computers to hum to life.
“Come one Nora, lets get you some much needed maintenance!” With that, the mech took its first step towards what was equal to an oasis in a desert.