KIROKAZE
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ojovivo
Monterey Bay Aquarium
Janaina Medeiros
Love Begins
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
izzy's playlists!
JBB: An Artblog!
if i look back, i am lost
Kaledo Art
blake kathryn
Sade Olutola
Misplaced Lens Cap
祝日 / Permanent Vacation
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todays bird
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
Not today Justin
★
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@the-emmapult
I'm Em! I drive a Catapult! Relatively new to this whole 'MechWarrior' thing [and tumblr rp] but I'm sure I'll get a handle on it. Currently participating in Operation TOUCHDOWN with the help of a family friend.
Also sometimes Ms. Joana Castanho posts here. She's a merc or something.
Couple rules:
1) Don't be a dick
2) Do be an adult
3) DM me if you wanna start a scene or something
4) I'm still figuring out tags and stuff, please be patient
Party Time, Excellent
The mess hall of the Volcano was full of people. Almost all of The Bloody Gash had transferred over to the larger dropship and were crowding the space. Techs, MechWarriors, freed bondsmen, dropship crew, medical staff and Battle Armor jocks all cheering and drinking whatever they had stolen from the stores of the Hell's Horses. Mounted on the central table was a holoprojector showing a life sized image of a slightly overweight man in coveralls chugging a beer. A small shrine had built up around it of beer bottles, pressed flowers, and canned fruit. Jones would be remembered.
Gemma had set up a stage by dragging another table to the wall and was standing atop it decked out in fishnets, torn black fabric, and entirely too much glitter. "So there I was, pinned between the bulkhead and the porcupine, not a prayer to me lips when I hear the little one shout, 'Captain, jump!' So's I push! And I squirm! And I wiggle!" Mimicking all these motions gets a round of applause. "And I leaps away! WOOOSH!"
"Then WHAMBAM! SMASH! Down comes a bloody crane claw like the hand of god hisself, and then FLING! And the porcupine goes flyin' right out into space. Our little thing saved me sure as I'm breathin right here right now. If it weren't for her you'd be starin at me tits in holo instead of the flesh and blood!"
She points out at the little protomech pilot, grinning. "Three cheers for Analise! Three cheers for our girl!" And the crowd roars.
@lifebythemechahorns
Analise's skin flushes to almost match the red of her tattoos, and she shifts awkwardly in place.
"I- I was just doing my duty, ma'am. You are my bondholder, and you had given me a task."
Contrary to the energy of the party, she wears a simple set of overalls, 2 sizes too big for her small frame.
She grumbles nothing into her cup of "punch" and examines the swirling oilslick rainbow in the chipped mug.
"Cheers and celebration! Someone kiss that girl! Hero of The Bloody Gash!" Gemma screams in excitement and raises it above her head, shaking it. "Savior of The Captain! Slayer of porcupines and elly mentals!"
The crowd does not respect Analise's humble deflection, instead they roar even louder and swarm her.
Analise shouts in shock as she is crowded around, then easily lifted up and launched onto the shoulders of the assembled mercenaries.
The crowd roars in cheer as they toss her easily into the air before catching her in a net of arms, before launching her again.
Among the cheering crowd stands a group of battle armor jockeys gathered in a loose circle around a short woman in an oil-stained flightsuit. Mosquito squad are a tight-knit group of relatively new recruits and their Warrior pilot, who most of the crew euphemistically refer to as "spirited." Gemma is almost certain that Laura Boston isn't her real name, but those kinds of questions are for people that aren't unscrupulous mercenaries.
It was ten years after Nieuwegein and Sigrid Guntran was fine.
Her colleagues hadn’t noticed. Maybe they thought she just had a case of the Fridays. Maybe the feeling that it was taking seconds to find her words was all in her head. It didn’t matter.
And now she was ‘home’. Her sparse apartment furnished with leftovers from the shop and not much else. She needed to get out of her jumpsuit.
The smell of the shop lingered. Heated metal and oil and grease. The rugged fabric chafed against the uneven surface of her shoulder. In her mind the smells mingled with ozone and gunpowder and panic.
She felt the white-hot pain in her shoulder. In her arm. Through her torso. Ten years to the day, and it still lingered. She wondered if she’d ever be free. Be able to feel again without the fear. It didn’t matter.
She needed to get out of her jumpsuit.
She willed her hand to move. Willed her body to complete the motions. She wasn’t sure how long she could keep going like this. She was fine.
She needed to get out.
It didn’t matter.
She was fine.
--
Art by @casketjones
CPLT-BW-E "EM4" (aka "Creole")
This ‘Mech started off as an unremarkable CPLT-K2, but by the time of its first deployment, was a K2 in name only. Creole was developed in tandem with its pilot as part of the Blackwell Heavy Industries’ experimental Enhanced MechWarrior program, and was the sole such BattleMech developed and deployed, as the revelation of its pilot's existence set in motion events that would resonate beyond Helios, and ultimately help shape the early days of the new Star League... and also ensure the downfall of Blackwell itself.
Creole featured a mixed weapon loadout with answers for threats at any range, and an extensive EWAR suite to back up the well-rounded armament. What set it apart, however, was its unique cockpit configuration. Engineered specifically for use by its pilot EM4, she was as much part of the ‘Mech as the ‘Mech was part of her. A suite of proprietary Blackwell vDNI technology known as the Vehicular Advanced Neural Interface Layered Link Apparatus - or VANILLA - connected her to her pilot at such a deep level that it was hard to determine if the ‘Mech was an extension of the pilot, or the pilot an extension of the ‘Mech. In addition, Creole had cleanroom-grade cockpit filters and an airlock to accommodate its pilot's sensitivity to non-sterile environments.
Though the pair performed extremely well in all simulated environments, Operation TOUCHDOWN was the first time Creole would see an actual combat drop. After being given a clean bill of health by the SLDF MechTechs, the 'Mech would show what Blackwell’s finest - if also most unethical - minds were capable of.
(Creole was designed by yours truly, but belongs to @sapphic-design-is-my-passion / @the-emmapult . Art was done by the ever talented @cromwell300 !)
TRO below the cut:
[BHI internal network node 381-Alpha-EM-1]
[display asset record]
[displaying...]
ASSET DESIGNATION: Enhanced MechWarrior 4
DATE OF PRODUCTION: circa 3130
PRIMARY GENETIC CONTRIBUTIONS: Proprietary
LISTED TRAINING (SOURCE):
- MechWarrior (Solo operative; independent from command chain)
- VANILLA systems (implants active)
ASSET DEPLOYMENTS:
- Operation TOUCHDOWN
ASSET QUALITY ASSURANCE COORDINATOR:
- Kimberly Ash (see separate file)
CONFIRMED ASSET RETURNS ON INVESTMENT:
MECH KILLS - 53 (simulated)
CV KILLS - 134 (simulated)
BATTLE ARMOR KILLS - 303 (simulated)
ASSET PERFORMANCE REVIEW:
- Untested. Recent developments in EM systems have rendered asset obsolete.
ASSET CURRENT STATUS:
- Pending Decommission
The light of Helios' distant star filters weakly through to the command center as two figures approach amidst a mid-afternoon flurry. One leads, clad in a weathered greatcoat the color of slate and bundled up beneath a dark green scarf. The other figure wears a strange contraption, almost similar to a military hardsuit apart from the wheezing noises emitting from vents in its neck. The first figure holds open the door for the second, ushering them into the bustling headquarters building. The pair makes their way to the large holotank in the center of the building, which serves as a table for briefings.
"Kim Ash and Em Blackwell reporting, General Hazen."
@is-the-battlemech-cool-or-not @starcolonelkatrinamoon
As the two entered, an immense woman in heavily modified Nighthawk XXII powered armor turned to look towards them. Her expression was exhausted, as if she had gone several days on little to no sleep and was surviving purely on caffeine and spite. One of her jaguar ears - mildly translucent to the lights above and behind, indicating some level of synthskin - flicked while she regarded the newcomers.
Her armor was maintained, but poorly cleaned. Several of the contoured armor plates had recently been replaced with fresh ones, with no time taken to paint them to the scraped and grime covered Smoke Jaguar Alpha camouflage that the other panels were painted in. The forearms of the armor were stained a dark, flaking brown that was hard to tell if it was mud or blood - or both.
Around the woman were several members of her entourage. Another giant in a beige oilskin duster and dress shirt lurked by her side, jotting notes down on a small pad of paper. He was intently watching the sparse data already displayed in the holotank, seeking to elucidate some mysterious truth from it. To her other side was a lithe woman with long blonde hair and a passive expression on her face, poking at a dataslate. Off to the side, near one of the walls, were three other individuals - a giant woman, a Painfully Average Man, and a bottle blonde who was talking the Painfully Average Man's ear off.
"It appears more of the party have arrived." The woman in the power armor rasped, not even offering a smile.
@jaded-falcon
Spirit's apparition surprised everyone but the woman in power armour.
"Very little gets past you, I have noticed. Reminds me of when we first met."
She motioned to the holotank. "Shall we begin?"
@is-the-battlemech-cool-or-not
"Aff, let us begin."
Melissa turned to the holotank, and pulled up an aerial display of Fort Falaise. A sprawling fortress, surrounded by walls topped with massive turrets, and, in the weatern half of the fortress, an even more heavily fortified spaceport resides wothin the fortress walls.
"Your objective, Fort Falaise."
"Current enemy forces on site are heavy - the main garrison is made up of one mixed 'Mech and CV Level III. Said Level III is made up of Protectorate troops, so not the highest possible quality."
As she spoke, contact icons in red appeared on the aerial view, each labelled with pertinent information.
"However, other forces that are on site as of Task Force Hawk's recon two days ago are rather more impressive. An assault 'Mech Level II with two Ragnaroks, two Highlanders, a Marauder, and a Kintaro. An independent CV level III, with a Schrek PPC carrier and two Scorpion tanks, plus 3 more vehicles of unknown type. Next, 3 entire infantry Levels II, all with heavy anti-armor assets, including those damned Rapture anti-mech guided missiles - very dangerous things, those."
A schematic of a Rapture AT launcher and missile popped into the air above the table, and rotated slowly, lettong everyone get a good look at it.
"Furthermore, as Fort Bayeux will be hit first, we anticipate those enemy forces not destroyed at Bayeux will make their way to Falaise, so there will be even more."
The door to the command center opened, and Savannah Cameron stepped inside. Mow able to see her charge, Spirit relaxed as Savannah walked over to stand close to her. Though this was only apparent to those in the room who knew her, the others could tell that something had changed.
"Sorry I'm late, was dealing with some maintenance issues. Some good news on that front - our artillery will be online and ready for the assault."
Melissa nodded. "Good," she said, pressing a few buttons, making small blue contact icons pop up on the display, some distance from the fort.
"The Fusiliers' newly assigned artillery force will conduct a heavy bombardment of the fort before the main kickoff. Their objective is take out defensive turrets, ammunition storages, and the local atmospheric control system. Once that is done, and the weather clears, ASF and potentially even orbital support will be available."
The map, now fully populated with contact icons, was practically a sea of red.
This was going to be a hell of a fight.
@the-emmapult
Em speaks up, voice slightly muffled by her suit.
"Are you an alien?"
A sharp, pleading look from Kim, and she changes the subject.
"I've never been in combat before, but I'll do my best! It's nice to meet you all."
"Indeed," Kim says, "For those unaware, I'm Kimberly Ash and this is Em Blackwell. We'll be joining your force in this theater. Em may be inexperienced, but she is highly skilled."
Kim's expression says 'Don't get her hurt or I will kill you.'
"Spirit," Katrina grated out in bemusement once Melissa had finished, a section of skin around one eye crinkling to partially reflect the emotion. She turned her gaze towards Kim and Em. Taking in the appearance of the two a little more, she drew herself up.
"I am Star Colonel Katrina Moon, of Clan Smoke Jaguar. Independent drop cluster "Jaguar's Shadow", assigned local to the Helios assault. It is good to put faces to two names I have been keeping tabs on up to this point. You two will be assigned to my forces for the time being-"
She shot a pointed look towards Melissa, seemingly challenging her to say something to disagree with the statement. It wasn't particularly sharp.
"-with Em assigned to Beta star of Gamma Binary, under Star Commander Derrik Ott. I will vouch for his expertise, if necessary."
@jaded-falcon
"Jaguar," Spirit replied in turn, with a respectful nod. "How kind of this galaxy to make us meet once more."
She looked back towards the display. "Jian Three and Four are already engaged in scouting actions at Falaise. They, alongside Katana, Lynx, and Kukri, will be joining the assault, casualties permitting. I will assigning Jian to headhunting duties and authorizing taking shots at any antitank crews armed with Rapture launchers shortly after the adjournment of this meeting; this directive will last until the conclusion of the campaign."
Melissa looked to Katrina as she spoke, and merely smiled, chuckling.
"Neg, Em," she spoke to the young MechWarrior. "I am no alien, just an unconventional product of some intense genetic engineering. I am, mostly speaking, human. And Ms. Ash, it would appear that your MechWarrior has just been adopted by Clan Smoke Jaguar," she smiles. "She will be extremely safes in their hands, I assure you."
Alariel, the Jaguar's newest bondsman, an elf-like Omega pilot, spoke directly to Katrina, leaning in as she watched the others talk. "Where shall I go, Star Colonel?"
"Excellent," said Melissa after Spirit finished. "Those Rapture launchers are quite the threat." She pressed some buttons to pull up a schematic of just such a launcher on the holotank - each missile of the portable twin tube launcher set-up housing a fiber-optic guided, 180mm quad-charge HEAT warhead, using depleted uranium liners in place of the more standard copper. "A truly terrifying weapon - designed to, in ideal ambush conditions, punch through a mech canopy, penetrate the cockpit, and continue on to core the reactor itself. I pray to the Great Father that Jian can eliminate that threat before deployment."
"Our artillery will drop some DPICM on the approaches to the base when the time comes," says Savannah. "Should hopefully take take of any that stayed hidden."
@the-emmapult
Em holds up a finger as the acronyms appear on the briefing holo, but her questions are answered immediately by Kim.
"High-explosive anti-tank"
"Dual-purpose improved conventional munitions."
The girl nervously taps the fingers of each hand together.
"Oh. Um."
Her gaze swivels between Katrina and Spirit.
"Aren't Smoke Jaguar the ones who uh, did Turtle Bay?"
Kim tenses, sighs, and pinches the bridge of her nose.
"Em, that was a century ago, you-"
A pause.
"Maybe I've been too lax when it comes to your education. I'm sorry, Colonel Moon, we've been cooped up in that DropShip for too long. Haven't had a chance for a proper lesson plan."
A wheezing, whistling sound of vague amusement escaped Katrina as she clasped her hands behind her back and started to practically stalk around the holotable towards Em and Kim. Her posture deteriorated to a mild slouch as she came around the table, each step THUNKing heavily on the floor. The immense woman brought herself close enough to the pair for the quiet humming from her power armor to be heard.
"You will be with my Command star, Alariel-" Katrina started, before she continued to speak towards Em.
"Yes, Em. You are correct. It was my clan that committed the atrocity of Turtle Bay. And for it we were used as an example." The woman stated, her tone remaining surprisingly passive. She drew her lips back in a bitter, hollow grin. Her fangs glinted in the light as a rattling rasp of a laugh started to pull its way from her. "We were... defeated. Beaten and pushed back to our homeworld. Huntress. And... then the 2nd SLDF put our planet to Annihilation."
Her grin receded and her expression grew taught. In the light, her eyes practically glowed, lit by a fire only held in a memory. Her memory of the last days of her homeworld.
"Warriors, slain to the last. Cities razed. The forests burned. A whole sibko of kits, struck down with an orbital bombardment. My own siblings torn away from me by inner sphere commandos. I was... lucky. I was part of the Fidelis, after that. Catalina, Kincaid... they and the rest of my sibko were not so lucky."
A soft sigh escaped Katrina as she let her eyes drift shut. Her face turned up towards the ceiling of the tent as she collected herself. After a moment she returned towards watching Kim and Em, a sad smile having taken its place upon her visage.
"I was nine, when I became one of the forever faithful. And... I will never allow such an atrocity to come to pass, ever again. There will be no more Turtle Bays. No more Huntresses. My hope-" She intentionally looked towards Kim's face, her gaze sharpening like a knife. "-is that I may be permitted to teach such a philosophy to the new generations. And that is why I wish to bring the two of you alongside my own operations. Miss Ash, you understand the gravity of what it is that I speak. And one day, Em may learn through instruction and teaching. Not as I have learned. Never again."
@jaded-falcon
Spirit watched the exchange silently, as she watched most goings-on in the camp, and filed the learned information away for later.
"Tha sinn a' fulang cogadh, airson 's gum bi ar clann beò ann an sìth."
She didn't expect anyone to understand what she'd said, and having addressed no one in particular, moved on without explaining.
"Death Knell will shadow Lady Cameron. All Hawk forces will be led by Executive Officer Pokhrel, unless the unforeseen happens." Her face was made of stone, utterly impassive, utterly unimpressed.
Savannah glances Spirit's way at the Gaelic phrase, clearly understanding, though the meaning is clearly lost on most of the others in the command center.
Hearing that Death Knell will accompanying her, Savannah nods - the tiniest smile on her lupine features visible only to Spirit. "Bidh e math do bhith ri mo thaobh, a ghràidh," she says.
To her credit, Melissa at least recognizes that something of relevant note was said, and nods solemnly at Spirit.
"The unforeseen is important to plan for, of course. To that end, I will be ordering at least some of the forces from Fort Bayeux to move on Fort Falaise as soon as their objectives are complete."
@the-emmapult
Em freezes as Katrina speaks, completely unmoving even after the Star Colonel finishes. Once again she's glad for her visor, as she'd lost control of her facial expression shortly after her superior's tone became clear. The only one who seems to notice her change in mood is Kim.
Kim, who fixes Star Colonel Moon with a glare. The same look worn by a mother bear who has decided to warn someone that they're in between her and her cub. The handler silently places a steadying hand on Em's shoulder, bidding her forgive herself for the faux pas.
Make her regret her words. Make an example to others who'd harm Em.
No, not now.
"The briefing room isn't the time for a lecture, star colonel. I can assure you that we're all on the same page. General Hazen, did you receive my comminuque about our background? It might be time to discuss it."
Some of the AsTechs have discovered that the brand of sealant I like using has…mildly psychoactive properties.
Really, you guys? You did the inventory sheets, you know how much of that we have. Not enough. Next person I catch doing whippets is scrubbing carbon scoring for the rest of the op.
Blake’s sake…
i can uhhhh dispose of that for you
The light of Helios' distant star filters weakly through to the command center as two figures approach amidst a mid-afternoon flurry. One leads, clad in a weathered greatcoat the color of slate and bundled up beneath a dark green scarf. The other figure wears a strange contraption, almost similar to a military hardsuit apart from the wheezing noises emitting from vents in its neck. The first figure holds open the door for the second, ushering them into the bustling headquarters building. The pair makes their way to the large holotank in the center of the building, which serves as a table for briefings.
"Kim Ash and Em Blackwell reporting, General Hazen."
@is-the-battlemech-cool-or-not @starcolonelkatrinamoon
As the two entered, an immense woman in heavily modified Nighthawk XXII powered armor turned to look towards them. Her expression was exhausted, as if she had gone several days on little to no sleep and was surviving purely on caffeine and spite. One of her jaguar ears - mildly translucent to the lights above and behind, indicating some level of synthskin - flicked while she regarded the newcomers.
Her armor was maintained, but poorly cleaned. Several of the contoured armor plates had recently been replaced with fresh ones, with no time taken to paint them to the scraped and grime covered Smoke Jaguar Alpha camouflage that the other panels were painted in. The forearms of the armor were stained a dark, flaking brown that was hard to tell if it was mud or blood - or both.
Around the woman were several members of her entourage. Another giant in a beige oilskin duster and dress shirt lurked by her side, jotting notes down on a small pad of paper. He was intently watching the sparse data already displayed in the holotank, seeking to elucidate some mysterious truth from it. To her other side was a lithe woman with long blonde hair and a passive expression on her face, poking at a dataslate. Off to the side, near one of the walls, were three other individuals - a giant woman, a Painfully Average Man, and a bottle blonde who was talking the Painfully Average Man's ear off.
"It appears more of the party have arrived." The woman in the power armor rasped, not even offering a smile.
@jaded-falcon
Spirit's apparition surprised everyone but the woman in power armour.
"Very little gets past you, I have noticed. Reminds me of when we first met."
She motioned to the holotank. "Shall we begin?"
@is-the-battlemech-cool-or-not
"Aff, let us begin."
Melissa turned to the holotank, and pulled up an aerial display of Fort Falaise. A sprawling fortress, surrounded by walls topped with massive turrets, and, in the weatern half of the fortress, an even more heavily fortified spaceport resides wothin the fortress walls.
"Your objective, Fort Falaise."
"Current enemy forces on site are heavy - the main garrison is made up of one mixed 'Mech and CV Level III. Said Level III is made up of Protectorate troops, so not the highest possible quality."
As she spoke, contact icons in red appeared on the aerial view, each labelled with pertinent information.
"However, other forces that are on site as of Task Force Hawk's recon two days ago are rather more impressive. An assault 'Mech Level II with two Ragnaroks, two Highlanders, a Marauder, and a Kintaro. An independent CV level III, with a Schrek PPC carrier and two Scorpion tanks, plus 3 more vehicles of unknown type. Next, 3 entire infantry Levels II, all with heavy anti-armor assets, including those damned Rapture anti-mech guided missiles - very dangerous things, those."
A schematic of a Rapture AT launcher and missile popped into the air above the table, and rotated slowly, lettong everyone get a good look at it.
"Furthermore, as Fort Bayeux will be hit first, we anticipate those enemy forces not destroyed at Bayeux will make their way to Falaise, so there will be even more."
The door to the command center opened, and Savannah Cameron stepped inside. Mow able to see her charge, Spirit relaxed as Savannah walked over to stand close to her. Though this was only apparent to those in the room who knew her, the others could tell that something had changed.
"Sorry I'm late, was dealing with some maintenance issues. Some good news on that front - our artillery will be online and ready for the assault."
Melissa nodded. "Good," she said, pressing a few buttons, making small blue contact icons pop up on the display, some distance from the fort.
"The Fusiliers' newly assigned artillery force will conduct a heavy bombardment of the fort before the main kickoff. Their objective is take out defensive turrets, ammunition storages, and the local atmospheric control system. Once that is done, and the weather clears, ASF and potentially even orbital support will be available."
The map, now fully populated with contact icons, was practically a sea of red.
This was going to be a hell of a fight.
@the-emmapult
Em speaks up, voice slightly muffled by her suit.
"Are you an alien?"
A sharp, pleading look from Kim, and she changes the subject.
"I've never been in combat before, but I'll do my best! It's nice to meet you all."
"Indeed," Kim says, "For those unaware, I'm Kimberly Ash and this is Em Blackwell. We'll be joining your force in this theater. Em may be inexperienced, but she is highly skilled."
Kim's expression says 'Don't get her hurt or I will kill you.'
"Spirit," Katrina grated out in bemusement once Melissa had finished, a section of skin around one eye crinkling to partially reflect the emotion. She turned her gaze towards Kim and Em. Taking in the appearance of the two a little more, she drew herself up.
"I am Star Colonel Katrina Moon, of Clan Smoke Jaguar. Independent drop cluster "Jaguar's Shadow", assigned local to the Helios assault. It is good to put faces to two names I have been keeping tabs on up to this point. You two will be assigned to my forces for the time being-"
She shot a pointed look towards Melissa, seemingly challenging her to say something to disagree with the statement. It wasn't particularly sharp.
"-with Em assigned to Beta star of Gamma Binary, under Star Commander Derrik Ott. I will vouch for his expertise, if necessary."
@jaded-falcon
"Jaguar," Spirit replied in turn, with a respectful nod. "How kind of this galaxy to make us meet once more."
She looked back towards the display. "Jian Three and Four are already engaged in scouting actions at Falaise. They, alongside Katana, Lynx, and Kukri, will be joining the assault, casualties permitting. I will assigning Jian to headhunting duties and authorizing taking shots at any antitank crews armed with Rapture launchers shortly after the adjournment of this meeting; this directive will last until the conclusion of the campaign."
Melissa looked to Katrina as she spoke, and merely smiled, chuckling.
"Neg, Em," she spoke to the young MechWarrior. "I am no alien, just an unconventional product of some intense genetic engineering. I am, mostly speaking, human. And Ms. Ash, it would appear that your MechWarrior has just been adopted by Clan Smoke Jaguar," she smiles. "She will be extremely safes in their hands, I assure you."
Alariel, the Jaguar's newest bondsman, an elf-like Omega pilot, spoke directly to Katrina, leaning in as she watched the others talk. "Where shall I go, Star Colonel?"
"Excellent," said Melissa after Spirit finished. "Those Rapture launchers are quite the threat." She pressed some buttons to pull up a schematic of just such a launcher on the holotank - each missile of the portable twin tube launcher set-up housing a fiber-optic guided, 180mm quad-charge HEAT warhead, using depleted uranium liners in place of the more standard copper. "A truly terrifying weapon - designed to, in ideal ambush conditions, punch through a mech canopy, penetrate the cockpit, and continue on to core the reactor itself. I pray to the Great Father that Jian can eliminate that threat before deployment."
"Our artillery will drop some DPICM on the approaches to the base when the time comes," says Savannah. "Should hopefully take take of any that stayed hidden."
@the-emmapult
Em holds up a finger as the acronyms appear on the briefing holo, but her questions are answered immediately by Kim.
"High-explosive anti-tank"
"Dual-purpose improved conventional munitions."
The girl nervously taps the fingers of each hand together.
"Oh. Um."
Her gaze swivels between Katrina and Spirit.
"Aren't Smoke Jaguar the ones who uh, did Turtle Bay?"
Kim tenses, sighs, and pinches the bridge of her nose.
"Em, that was a century ago, you-"
A pause.
"Maybe I've been too lax when it comes to your education. I'm sorry, Colonel Moon, we've been cooped up in that DropShip for too long. Haven't had a chance for a proper lesson plan."
"We are clanners, of course we will punch you for using contractions!"
It's contractually obligated.
Qui? Was that a fucking contraction?
Hey, don't bat'chall me just cause General Kerensky's heir outlawed the apostraphe.
AHHH YOU DID IT AGAIN!? DEZGRA ! ABSOLUTELY FUCKING DEZGRA!
The warden cause leaving a clanners body the second they see a apostrophe
"Y'ALL'D'NT'VE'F'I'D'NT'VE"
Looks like Melissa have gone full native.
I have been in the Inner Sphere for over a century and a quarter at this point.
Eventually contractions cease to be grating. I still do not use them out of personal preference, but I do not become apoplectic at hearing them as I once did.
Also, I like to use Power Word: Kill Clanner as an object lesson to younger Clanners. If they survive hearing that, they can survive hearing other contractions.
Heck, you K'rensky types ain't all the same
paintober day 4
tiny farcille <3
The light of Helios' distant star filters weakly through to the command center as two figures approach amidst a mid-afternoon flurry. One leads, clad in a weathered greatcoat the color of slate and bundled up beneath a dark green scarf. The other figure wears a strange contraption, almost similar to a military hardsuit apart from the wheezing noises emitting from vents in its neck. The first figure holds open the door for the second, ushering them into the bustling headquarters building. The pair makes their way to the large holotank in the center of the building, which serves as a table for briefings.
"Kim Ash and Em Blackwell reporting, General Hazen."
@is-the-battlemech-cool-or-not @starcolonelkatrinamoon
As the two entered, an immense woman in heavily modified Nighthawk XXII powered armor turned to look towards them. Her expression was exhausted, as if she had gone several days on little to no sleep and was surviving purely on caffeine and spite. One of her jaguar ears - mildly translucent to the lights above and behind, indicating some level of synthskin - flicked while she regarded the newcomers.
Her armor was maintained, but poorly cleaned. Several of the contoured armor plates had recently been replaced with fresh ones, with no time taken to paint them to the scraped and grime covered Smoke Jaguar Alpha camouflage that the other panels were painted in. The forearms of the armor were stained a dark, flaking brown that was hard to tell if it was mud or blood - or both.
Around the woman were several members of her entourage. Another giant in a beige oilskin duster and dress shirt lurked by her side, jotting notes down on a small pad of paper. He was intently watching the sparse data already displayed in the holotank, seeking to elucidate some mysterious truth from it. To her other side was a lithe woman with long blonde hair and a passive expression on her face, poking at a dataslate. Off to the side, near one of the walls, were three other individuals - a giant woman, a Painfully Average Man, and a bottle blonde who was talking the Painfully Average Man's ear off.
"It appears more of the party have arrived." The woman in the power armor rasped, not even offering a smile.
@jaded-falcon
Spirit's apparition surprised everyone but the woman in power armour.
"Very little gets past you, I have noticed. Reminds me of when we first met."
She motioned to the holotank. "Shall we begin?"
@is-the-battlemech-cool-or-not
"Aff, let us begin."
Melissa turned to the holotank, and pulled up an aerial display of Fort Falaise. A sprawling fortress, surrounded by walls topped with massive turrets, and, in the weatern half of the fortress, an even more heavily fortified spaceport resides wothin the fortress walls.
"Your objective, Fort Falaise."
"Current enemy forces on site are heavy - the main garrison is made up of one mixed 'Mech and CV Level III. Said Level III is made up of Protectorate troops, so not the highest possible quality."
As she spoke, contact icons in red appeared on the aerial view, each labelled with pertinent information.
"However, other forces that are on site as of Task Force Hawk's recon two days ago are rather more impressive. An assault 'Mech Level II with two Ragnaroks, two Highlanders, a Marauder, and a Kintaro. An independent CV level III, with a Schrek PPC carrier and two Scorpion tanks, plus 3 more vehicles of unknown type. Next, 3 entire infantry Levels II, all with heavy anti-armor assets, including those damned Rapture anti-mech guided missiles - very dangerous things, those."
A schematic of a Rapture AT launcher and missile popped into the air above the table, and rotated slowly, lettong everyone get a good look at it.
"Furthermore, as Fort Bayeux will be hit first, we anticipate those enemy forces not destroyed at Bayeux will make their way to Falaise, so there will be even more."
The door to the command center opened, and Savannah Cameron stepped inside. Mow able to see her charge, Spirit relaxed as Savannah walked over to stand close to her. Though this was only apparent to those in the room who knew her, the others could tell that something had changed.
"Sorry I'm late, was dealing with some maintenance issues. Some good news on that front - our artillery will be online and ready for the assault."
Melissa nodded. "Good," she said, pressing a few buttons, making small blue contact icons pop up on the display, some distance from the fort.
"The Fusiliers' newly assigned artillery force will conduct a heavy bombardment of the fort before the main kickoff. Their objective is take out defensive turrets, ammunition storages, and the local atmospheric control system. Once that is done, and the weather clears, ASF and potentially even orbital support will be available."
The map, now fully populated with contact icons, was practically a sea of red.
This was going to be a hell of a fight.
@the-emmapult
Em speaks up, voice slightly muffled by her suit.
"Are you an alien?"
A sharp, pleading look from Kim, and she changes the subject.
"I've never been in combat before, but I'll do my best! It's nice to meet you all."
"Indeed," Kim says, "For those unaware, I'm Kimberly Ash and this is Em Blackwell. We'll be joining your force in this theater. Em may be inexperienced, but she is highly skilled."
Kim's expression says 'Don't get her hurt or I will kill you.'
The light of Helios' distant star filters weakly through to the command center as two figures approach amidst a mid-afternoon flurry. One leads, clad in a weathered greatcoat the color of slate and bundled up beneath a dark green scarf. The other figure wears a strange contraption, almost similar to a military hardsuit apart from the wheezing noises emitting from vents in its neck. The first figure holds open the door for the second, ushering them into the bustling headquarters building. The pair makes their way to the large holotank in the center of the building, which serves as a table for briefings.
"Kim Ash and Em Blackwell reporting, General Hazen."
@is-the-battlemech-cool-or-not @starcolonelkatrinamoon
Commission Sketch: Catapult
#battletech
That's Creole!!
THUNDERBACK
Commissioned piece by the awesome @moiderahart
THATS MY RIDE BABYYYY
@neon-knights-mercenary-company I'm back in business!!!!!
Songs of the 'mech hangar.
(Not sung so often because people need to focus, but when there is boring work that needs doing it is nice to have something to keep the pace to. Also heard when the work is done and the drinks are going around.)
I Have Repaired This 'Mech but now it must Go Off to Battle Once More (it will probably need repairs again when it gets back)
There Was This One Terrible, Awful Custom-Built 'Mech
Let Me Tell You about the Dumb Pilot who was Too Cool to Listen To System Warnings (they blew up)
Sure the Dumb Pilots get a Lot Of Credit but We the Technicians Deserve Some As Well
When I Fix a 'Mech I Think of my Darling
There Was This One Amazing, Gorgeous 'Mech (variants: And I got to Work On It, So There; or, And I Did Not Get To Work On It).
The time I had to hose a squashed infantryman off a 'mech's foot
A Dumb Pilot told me to Make all these Stupid Modifications to a Perfectly Good 'Mech
I Know How to Fix a 'Mech Better Than You Do
When I Hold my Darling I Think of 'Mechs
There Is Grease Just All Over My Everything (variant: And Nothing Would Make Me Prouder)
A 'Mech Is, when you think about it, A Kind of Fair Lady
A Dumb Pilot Dragged this Perfectly Good 'Mech through Every Swamp/Desert/Jungle/Volcano on the Planet
I Hate Working on 'Mechs So So Much (but I get money for it)
Newfangled Advanced 'Mechs Are Dumb And I Hate Them
(Death/a Saint/the Devil/a Buddha/an Angel/etc.) Came Into the Hangar and Needed Their 'Mech Fixed
A 'Mech Is, when you think about it, A Kind of Coffin (and Brother I am the Town Undertaker)
A List of All the Bits in a 'Mech (But with a Catchy Tune)
A Dumb Pilot got this Perfectly Good 'Mech all Shot Up and Overheated and The Cockpit Glass is Broken Too
Never Let those Dumb Pilots Anywhere Near a 'Mech
@on-a-mechtechnicality @karriethemechtech
FAILURE
Shards of glass crunched under *Creole's* feet as Em spurred the BattleMech through the sundered streets. Her sensors picked up nothing, but that didn't slow her hurried, ragged breathing. Her only chance was to get into close quarters, lay an ambush for her opponent. *Creole* emitted smoke as it limped into a narrower thoroughfare, not quite an alley but small enough to conceal her. Too late. Alarm signals flashed on her heads-up display a moment before a missile slammed into her chassis. Em ignored the damage displays as she urged her steed around to face her opponent. She'd have to fight here.
"Well done," the voice crackled over the radio. "Turning with the side that has more armour, reducing your profile, and trying to set an ambush. All very well done."
Spirit's voice wasn't noticably different from her normal voice, which was, frankly, terrifying. They'd been battling for thirty minutes and she was showing zero exertion.
"Breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth. Nice and even. If your heartrate is up, you're more likely to panic. You need to stay nice, calm, and cool."
Two trios of Ultra-Autocannon rounds shot by Em's hiding place, smashing into the building and blowing chunks out of the concrete.
"Now, I've got you pinned down. What's your way out?"
Grunting, Em fired her jump jets. No time to respond, not with the Shrike so close. A laser penetrated her left leg armor, spot-welding the knee joint and further inhibiting her mobility on the ground. She'd have to get behind it, fire her short-range missiles into the larger machine's rear armor. As the arc of her jump reached its apex, Em considered opening fire with her particle cannon, but decided against it. Her cockpit was already getting hot, and she couldn't afford a forced shutdown if she needed to jump away a second time.
Em willed her missiles to fire as Creole landed heavy on the pavement. Six of them streaked out across the road and slammed into her opponent. She didn't wait for the smoke to clear before jumping a second time, trying to clear the street before Spirit could turn her 'mech around. The Shrike had thirty tons on her, this would barely slow it down.
FAILURE
Shards of glass crunched under Creole's feet as Em spurred the BattleMech through the sundered streets. Her sensors picked up nothing, but that didn't slow her hurried, ragged breathing. Her only chance was to get into close quarters, lay an ambush for her opponent. *Creole* emitted smoke as it limped into a narrower thoroughfare, not quite an alley but small enough to conceal her. Too late. Alarm signals flashed on her heads-up display a moment before a missile slammed into her chassis. Em ignored the damage displays as she urged her steed around to face her opponent. She'd have to fight here.
