"The Corporate Jungle"
It had been over an hour since the last report came in: An Interstellar Beacon has been compromised by Militia forces, the I.M.C. stationed to defend it barely even delayed the terrorists leaving a huge opportunity for them to regroup, and now it someone had to come clean up the mess; someone qualified.
"This is as far as I can take ya', Pilot, now get off, my Titan's not a damn mule."The Apex Predator, Sloan, told Alan rather rudely. It had been a non-stop travel from the water reclamation facility, though only about an hour or two thanks to the Titan's speed rather than going on foot, but after going into the dense jungle, progress slowed to a crawl. "Get to scouting love, I'd like to know what I'm up against, before a fight." She ordered.
"Hold up," Alan began as he complied with the other Pilot's demand, "You're the one with an armored Atlas and I have to go on foot first?"
"Use that brain of yours, if you haven't noticed, jungle ain't too great in this color. Plus, the moment they spot me there'll be Vanguards all over us." She said, showing off her Titan's coat of paint that sorely stood out among the deep greens and browns, "And make it quick too, I've got other places to be."
The Pilot on the ground grumbled as he complied with one of the Spectres pushing him along as if it were the one giving orders. He kept his footsteps as light as he could to keep from making obvious tracks, but wearing heavy boots certainly made that task more difficult, fortunately for Alan, he doubted there would be anyone competent enough out here specifically looking for his tracks.
Alan started by climbing up into the trees where the large leaves and high vantage point would give him an edge in both stealth and combat. It was a bit risky as the noise from his jump kit might alert someone so he kept its use to a minimum by jumping branch to branch instead. The Pilot was on the lookout for any patrol in the area, the Militia were probably low on numbers, but that didn't mean that would throw caution to the wind and expect to regroup without interruption, though what each patrol would consist of was another question. The Spectres that were with him actually complied with what he wanted: Staying on the ground and wait for his signal to launch an ambush should he need them.
As predicted, a lone patrol of four riflemen looked to be on a break with one smoking away from the others, one on overwatch, and the last two going back and forth about an orbital ambush that all but annihilated the Militia fleet. Keeping quite and in the trees, Alan took aim with his rifle, listening in on the group to gather what information he could.
"I don't know man, we've already got the I.M.C. huntin' us down, now I hear that even the wildlife wants us dead. Just what exactly are we doing here?" One of them asked as he inspected his weapon. Both he and the man in front of him sat on a couple of rocks to check the rest of gear. Maintenance in the jungle was definitely a pain, but Alan wondered whether the weapons the Militia slapped together were as robust and durable as anything the I.M.C. made; probably not.
"Hell if I know, but I'm willing to bet that it has something to do with those damn S.R.S., don't know why else Commander Briggs would lead personally." The other mentioned, setting his weapon by his side as he sat back to relax.
"Tch, they don't tell us shit, do they? I mean it's us that do the real fighting and dying, but here comes the 'new kids' with their shiny new Titans and talent. It's like everything we did before Demeter-"
"Hold that thought." The rifleman keeping lookout interrupted, "This is Striker One, go ahead." He said over comms as the others grabbed their weapons, "Negative, I.M.C. must be in a pitiful state if they're not going to counter attack." He paused again, "Charging a frontal assault in one hour? With our numbers? That's suicide- Affirmative, regrouping." He said as he beckoned for his men to follow, but Alan would take the shot first.
The leader of the team collapsed as the other three picked up their weapons and began firing wildly around them. The bullets did nothing as their poor accuracy barely hit anything more than twice, and that's not to mention that Alan was up in the canopy, above wherever the Militia were firing. "This is Striker Two, we've-" Alan took another shot and then the second Militia rifleman fell.
"Up in the trees!" A third said as he started to reload. The fourth began firing, which forced Alan to drop to the ground and make a dash out in the open. One tried to make a call back to their leaders but was cut short by a burst from the Pilot's rifle, the fourth went down just as easily as both of the remaining riflemen had previously spent their ammo on trying to kills the trees around them.
However, there was one thing that did not go smoothly: "Striker, report, we heard weapons fire. Striker, report in, that's an order!" There was no on to respond, "Looks like we've got company." He shouted to others around him before finishing, "You'll regret this, I.M.C."
"Sloan, we've got a bit of a problem." Alan told the woman over comms.
"I leave you alone for a few minutes and now you go screw up." She said with a mumbled curse after words that Alan could hardly hear.
Ignoring the slight, Alan continued, "We've got possible enemy Pilots and Titans, unknown number." He informed. Once again, he climbed up into the trees for cover and waited, ordering the Spectres to do the same as they crouched behind rocks and trees.
After waiting with intense anticipation, a lone Militia Titan came into view, but then came another, and another. Two Tones, one Ion. There was nothing Alan could do while on foot, not against three fresh Titans, but aid came in the form of a single modified Ion Titan clad in Red and orange.
"An Apex Predator, eh? Let's see you earn that name!" Said one of the Militia Pilots as the firefight began to ensue. Cannon rounds blew through tree trunks while the energy weapons burned the bark and whatever other spot it hit.
Alan watched the three against one and tried to plan his next move, but he was stumped on what course of action to take next without his Titan, "Pilot, quit starin' and do something useful!" The mercenary yelled over comms. He was surprised to see barely any scratches on her hull, but in being on the defensive, Sloan could not do much to retaliate.
"Miss Fortune, I need my Titan." Alan hailed the ship over comms.
"That's going to be a negative Pilot," Vanessa reported after a moment, "Engineering says, she's still in repair and isn't at 100%."
"Just do it!" Alan returned, ultimately deciding that he had to act now.
"Aye, Alan, she'll be on the way in two minutes, don't say I didn't warn you."
The I.M.C. Pilot jumped from his safe position above the metal giants and on top of the closest one which was a Tone. He found himself a good grip on the mech's hull before going for the battery on its back, but of course his presence alerted the Pilot inside who shook wildly to try and get him off. Alan managed to yank the battery out of its socket and then jumped to the front of the Tone to kick off of its face. As he did so, he took one of the Firestars he had scavenged earlier, ignited it, and flung at the Tone's optics.
The Titan stumbled back, blinded by the burning ordinance as Alan ordered the Spectres to rodeo the Ion next to them. The Pilot charged the blinded Tone as he watched the indicated telling him of his Titan's position and seconds later, it crashed down and crushed the Militia Titan with a loud scream over open comms.
Just as the other Titans took notice of the new target, Alan made it into the shield deployed by his Titan and jumped up inside with the aid of his jump kit. After installing the battery to replenish shields, the Pilot could finally get comfortable in his seat as Evi came back online. "W-Welcome back, Pilot." She stuttered, bringing up what displays were functioning at the time which were only the bare minimum being both his weapon's and Evi's structural status. "Warning, hull integrity at 60%, recommend w-withdraw and- and- Commence offensive operations, Pilot!"
"Christ, I hope this isn't going to be too big of a problem." Alan said to himself, "Just hold together for now, Evi, we've got a fight on our hands."
"Af- Affirmative, Pilot- Alan Stassov. Relinquishing controls to you- Be aware." She said to him through the glitches in her speech.
Caught in a pincer, the two remaining Militia Titans fought back to back as Sloan and Alan went on the offensive, Ion against Ion, Tone against Brute. The Atlas-class Titan put up a shield wall, but Alan wasn't going to let it stop him. He dashed around the side and into the trees which he used as cover. It was a tight squeeze, but thanks to Alan using the smallest of the three, standard chassis, he could manage, all while firing the occasional missile through the gaps between the trees, that was when Alan called for the Spectres to launch their ambush. The robotic infantry climbed up the Titan, however they could, and did whatever possible to break down the Titan from weapon fire to tearing off armor and plating with their bare hands. Alan was quite amazed at how little this feature for them was used. To be fair, he would never had known about it until long ago when the Militia led by the traitorous Vice Admiral led an assault on one of the I.M.C.'s robotics factories. It was there where he watched a team of Spectres just tear apart a Militia Atlas with without mercy and with ease…
Putting the pressure on the two remaining enemies, Alan emerged from the safety of his wooden cover and charged the Tone he was facing while on his 10 o'clock, Sloan was easily able to make an aggressive push against her fellow Ion. The Tone was now starting to show heavy signs of wear and tear, blackened char marks from where Alan's missiles had hit, exposing its internal structure, "That is it, I.M.C. dog! Have this as a gift." The Militia Pilot exclaimed, but to his surprise, Alan moved faster than the Militia Pilot could act. As he was about to launch a salvo of tracking missiles, Alan closed the distance and grabbed the Tone's Acolyte Pod and tore it off before delivering a swift kick to the Tone's torso. When the Tone fell to the ground, it's ally Ion turned to try and protect him, but the Ion too was closed in on by Sloan who was waiting for just this kind of moment. As Alan's had his Brute launch up into the air with its jets, Sloan pulled her rival Ion back and delivered a precision laser strike that drilled through what was left of the enemy Ion's chest, killing the Pilot inside, that's when Alan finally landed on top of the fallen Tone with a mighty stomp of Evi's legs which crushed the Militia Pilot.
"That's yours?" Sloan broke the silence of victory, commenting on Alan's considerably weaker Titan over comms, "Bit borin'. Now, let's move on and take a peek at whatever it is those Militia are doin' before-"
She was cut off by someone else with a noticeable South African accent, "Oi, Sloan, change of plans." Said Blisk to his subordinate, "Regroup and prepare to transport the package, priority one. I've already dispatched a Widow to pick you up within the hour." The man said firmly.
"Will do," Sloan replied.
"Do you have orders for me, Sergeant- er, Commander- sir?" Alan corrected himself. He was surprised to find that he still hadn't gotten used to the other man's promotion long ago, now that he was the literal commander of a mercenary outfit, things just got a little confusing for Alan.
"Yeah, don't die. You're better than that, Pilot." Blisk answered. Looks like the whole outfit took a bit after their leader…
"Ahem," Vanessa chimed in on a separate channel, "What he means is that you'll be continuing your mission to the Interstellar Beacon. When you get there, report your findings, sabotage if possible, and fall back for pick up."
"Copy that, over and out." Alan acknowledged.
"Well now, it was short, but I suppose here's were we part ways." Sloan stated, "After seeing that toothpick easily take on an Atlas, I might even give you a recommendation if ya' survive. Though I doubt I'll be seeing you again anytime soon."
"No 'good luck' or 'farewell'?"
"Hah!" She simply said before leaving Alan to himself. After watching her go and shaking his head, the I.M.C. Pilot thought that he probably should have asked what the package was, perhaps he'll get around to asking later, but right now he had to get back to work.
A.N.: -
To Bunk: Why, thank you for the compliments!
As always, enjoy!
~Firetoast312
