Author's Note: All properties are the rights of their respective owners, Marvel, Respawn Entertainment, etc.
I've been scraping the bottom of the barrel of things to do this week, reading a proper book if you can believe it. Weapons of Choice by John Birmingham, a really interesting alternate history sci-fi novel that really has me itching to do something similar. What that means is that I want to do something with old school battleships, Iowa, Vanguard, Scharnhorst, Jean Bart, those kinda ships, would anyone be interested in that? Any ideas or suggestions?
Blaze1992: The lack of NGFS (Naval Gun Fire Support, what the Navy calls shore bombardment) is due to the difficulty of directing effective fire missions in such a heavily built up area. Add in the fact that the modern US Navy has no such ships capable of carrying out NGFS (this is a the cause of a rift between the USN and USMC) to a serious degree with their small number of 5 inch guns and it'd be such an insubstantial element that it wasn't worth including. It's simply more efficent to use cruise missiles or air strikes, and with airfields nearby and the gross overkill a Tomahawk would be on most things, there's no real point to it sadly.
This is one of those things where it's hinted at instead of outright explianed. In 'Ghost in the Trenches' there are mentions of airstrikes from F-16s, and there is a similar line in Lanner's introduction. It's simply a case of hinting at a larger scale without bogging the reader down with too many useless details.
The debate of A-10 vs AH-64 is an interesting one, and if you want an 'official' answer, we'll assume the 10th Mountain is on deployment somewhere and took all of their Apaches with them. Those are the only US Army gunships in the northeast US and they aren't around. Honest answer? Apaches in New York reminds me too much of the 1998 TriStar Godzilla and I don't want to be reminded of the 1998 TriStar Godzilla. Tactically? Thunderbolts carry more ordnance and deliver it more safely, kinda. And why send larger helicopters when you can use smaller drones instead?
Why is that? It's not a perfectly in sync retreat, at least that's not how I imagined it, or thought I wrote it. The IMC is putting up enough pressure in all areas to force them all back and if one isn't under pressure then it would be easy for them to become surrounded, cut off, and anhilated if they don't retreat.
As for the title, we have some Metallica, so thrash metal instead of power metal. Sticking with the war theme, even if this is a song inspired by a book that was itself inspired by a war, the often overlooked Spanish Civil War. The Spanish Civil War inspired a lot of art such as Picasso's Guernica, which I distinctly remember being talked about in an art history course because it was supposed to represent 'the brutalatilty of war' and I couldn't help but laugh. Why? Three years after it was painted would be The Blitz, and five years after that would be Dresden, Tokyo, Hiroshima, and Nagasaki, I can't be the only one that sees the grim irony in that.
The song itself? What am I going to say? It's For Whom the Bell Tolls, it's one of the best metal songs there is, dating back to 1984's 'Ride the Lightning.' With music's second most recognizable openeing bell (Hell's Bells is the best, no doubt), unique opening bass solo, and lack of a true guitar solo, it's a cool song that was picked not only for its themes, but it's...atmosphere? Maybe attitude, but that word doesn't feel quite right. Though if you haven't had enough Sabaton, they did cover it, both versions are great, but this song really does belong to Metallica.
Power Without Question – Chapter 49: For Whom the Bell Tolls
Blackened roar, massive roar, fills the crumbling sky
Shattered goal fills his soul with a ruthless cry
Stranger now, are his eyes, to this mystery
He hears the silence so loud
Crack of dawn, all is gone except the will to be
Now they see what will be, blinded eyes to see
For whom the bell tolls
Time marches on
For whom the bell tolls
Pulling the stick back, Lanner pulled out of her run after putting a 500 pound satellite guided bomb down on a troop concentration drones had spotted. Her and the other Steeljaws were nearing 'Bingo Winchester', pilot speak for 'outta bullets and just enough gas to get home,' after almost three hours of continuous CAS work. The sun was just now beginning to fall below the horizon, the first traces of black beginning to push the orange out and claim the skies for the night. It was a beautiful sight for the Thunderbolt driver as she coaxed the big, heavy attacker into a lazy turn, dropping below the level of many of the tallest skyscrapers before leveling out and continuing to fly south.
A piercing tone ripped into her ears, forcing the A-10 Pilot to whip her head around frantically in search for the source. Despite seeing nothing, the radar warning alert buzzed constantly in Brown's ear after having been silent all day. None of her pilots had even reported so much Man Portable Air Defense System (MPADS) and now something had the veteran warthog pilot thoroughly locked up.
Just as Lanner began to calm down, an even worse sound filled the air, what sounded like hammer strikes began to sound around her as the cockpit canopy was shattered in a hail of laser accurate gunfire. "Holy shit!" yelped Brown as she hunched herself down into her seat. Armor piercing slugs sliced through the aluminum skin of the 'hog and shredded the internals, if not for the titanium plated armored 'bathtub' that Brown was sitting in, she would have been turned into swiss cheese like the rest of her airplane. Stomping on the rudder pedals, the rugged craft responded, but the shooter was the most accurate Brown had ever seen, more and more rounds pummeling the Thunderbolt.
Looking out over her right wing, she could see that control surfaces had been shot off and what little fuel was still inside the wing was burning. Lanner craned her head further back to see one of her engines belching smoke before the craft lurched violently, throwing the woman about the cockpit. Turning around to look over her other shoulder, it was clear that this was the best, or luckiest, gunner in the world. Half of her tail had been shot completely off as the plane began to descend, the stick and pedals unresponsive.
There was only one thing she could do, with her stricken jet dead set on a collision course with central park, the woman reached down to her right and grabbed the bright yellow handle attached to the seat. Taking one last breath, she yanked like her life depended on it, because it did. What was left of the shattered canopy was blown away before the rocket motors in the bottom of Lanner's seat ignited and launched her upwards like a missile. Her body experienced 9gs of force and weighed over 1200 pounds due to the acceleration until the rocket motors thankfully cut out and a parachute deployed. Dangling beneath the circular chute, Brown could see her burning plane crash, throwing up a shower of dirt before sliding to a stop as she slowly descended into the heart of IMC territory.
Blisk popped the hatch of his Legion Titan and stood up, poking his head out to get an unobstructed look at the results of his Smart Core on the primitive aircraft. It had proven to be fairly tough bird, but not tough enough, the twisted remains of the airframe still smoldering at the end of the ditch it had carved as it slid to a stop in what the signs called 'Central Park.' If Blisk had been an intellectual, he might have pondered the strangeness of being on an alternate earth, fighting the locals that were also human and spoke the same language. Alas, the Soldier of Fortune was just that, and nothing else, he only cared that he had a job to do and was being paid handsomely to see it through. "Damn fine shooting boss," commented Ice as her own Titan came to a stop alongside his, the woman also looking over the wreckage. "Still no sign of the Pilot though, I have patrols looking for her" reported the mercenary crisply, always the professional.
The South African grunted in approval, "Good work, I want him found and brought to me, I want to make an example of anyone else who tries to play 'hero'" he ordered. This operation had already cost for more than he had expected, the opposition had fought well and he had to respect them for it, but his patience was running out. He wasn't so naïve as to think that other forces would never come, and if any of them were like the freaks that had shown up on the East side then that would complicate matters even further. Crimson had been dispatched to deal with them, but hadn't reported in, which wasn't supposed to happen.
"There is one more thing boss" began the NorthStar Pilot as Blisk turned back to the woman to see her holding up a boxlike object. "We recovered the aircrafts radio and it's still functional. I might not be able to trace anyone else on the frequency, but I could use it to listen in," she offered.
Blisk grunted, one thing he never understood about smart people was why they couldn't just come out and say what they were thinking. "Then why don't you?" he asked impatiently.
He could've sworn the woman rolled her eyes at his short temper, "because," she began, "we're jamming their communications. We ease up, let them talk, and set a trap."
"See to it. Stay on this Ice, I want him, preferably alive, but dead will do" he finished dismissively before settling back into the seat. Flicking a pair of switches, the hatch closed over the Apex Predator as he turned and began to head east.
He had to figure out what had happened to Crimson.
Stepping forward, Matthew felt the warm embrace of the Mediterranean sun on his skin and the similarly warm feeling of sand between his toes as he walked across the beach. Taking a deep breath, he enjoyed the total peace of the scene before him as the waves rolled gently against the shore, a few small sailboats bobbing on the water in the distance. "Like what you see Cowboy?" asked a familiar voice as Cooper turned around to see Felicia glide across the sand. Like him, she was in her own swimwear, but it was a fairly modest, for her, one piece that still accentuated her curves. Taking the whiskey she offered him, he wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close, "What should we drink to?"
Cooper shot her a small smirk as he raised his glass, "To happily ever after" he suggested.
One eyebrow came up in surprise, "You, Mr. Cowboy, the Manhattan Marauder, are finally at peace?" she asked with a tinge of amusement.
The Pilot could only shrug at the question, "I have my revenge and the woman I love" he answered with a small grin, "What more do I actually need?" he said, glass still raised in offering.
To his relief, Felicia returned his smile, "To happily ever after" she returned before raising her own drink and clinking the two glasses together before both drained the contents. After that, things moved quickly, embracing, Cooper found himself lying on his back as Felicia looked down at him with a predatory gleam in her eye. The platinum haired vixen lay her hands on his chest before she shook him, "C'mon Matt, get up" she beckoned as she continued to shake him, "Sable needs us, let's go."
To her relief, Cooper's eyes snapped open to reveal his bright blue eyes, attentive as they darted around before finally settling on her and she gave him a smile. "What's happening?" he asked, clearly still pushing the last vestiges of sleep from his mind as he grabbed his helmet off the floor and slipped it on as he threw his legs off the bed in the hotel they were currently in. Like many of the troops who had been on the first lines of defense, both the Marauder and Black Cat had been rotated out and allowed to rest and rearm in the rear areas. Cooper had insisted she sleep while he rearmed and when he joined her in their assigned room she had gone to get some time to herself.
It had come back to her trying to answer one question, what was she doing here? Why was a thief here fighting a war against some futuristic mega corporation's army? She should have gone to a family vacation home in the Hamptons and waited for everything to blow over, but she hadn't. She even knew why: Matthew Cooper. He had asked her to stay, and she had without considering much else. While Felicia had always the concept of 'the one' was ridiculous, even she would admit that the Texan was a rare breed. He was, after all, one of the few men she could see herself with.
But all of that would only matter if they made it through this, so she refocused on the here and now as Cooper began putting himself back together. Even if he had slept in his armor, he still had to attach his webgeear with equipment and ammo. "Not sure exactly" she admitted, "but everyone is still falling back in good order. Sable was cagey, but I take it something didn't go according to plan and she has something special in mind for us" she informed.
"No rest for the wicked 'eh?" he mused with a chuckle as he grabbed his various weapons and made his way for the door, Felicia in tow as they made their way to the elevators and began their descent. "How are you holding up sweetheart?" he asked honestly, even with the voice filter masking the emotions in the words, he was being sincere in his concern.
"I'm fine" she answered, the curt answer curtailing any follow ups he may have asked before the heiress broke the silence. "Just worry about yourself out there stud, I'd hate to lose you" she purred flirtatiously, though even she could tell she hadn't fully sold it, her actual thoughts and feelings creeping into her tone. Turning away quickly, she was thankful that Cooper knew her well enough not to press as the elevator came to a stop and the doors slid open as the pair made their way through the hallways side by side until they swept into the conference room Sablinova had made her Command Center.
The Symkarian looked, in all honesty, like utter hell. Deep bags under her eyes from the lack of sleep, hair messed and dirty, and uniform battle damaged and filthy. On the holographic table she was standing over, the positions of both her troops and the known IMC positions. Everyone had fallen back north of Central Park, but the fact that the iconic park was highlighted didn't escape Hardy's notice as she scanned the maps, committing everything she could to memory. "Good to see you two" greeted Silver with surprising honesty, fatigue heavy in her usually stern voice. "What's your status? Green?" she asked, getting a pair of nods back, causing her to sigh in relief, "Excellent, I have a mission that requires your unique skill sets."
Tapping her datapad, the map shifted to focus on one point in central park, a photo popping up next to it to show that spot now. "Approximately 15 minutes ago, one of the Maryland ANG A-10's providing CAS was shot down and crashed here. We confirmed that the Pilot, Captain Nicole 'Lanner' Brown, safely ejected," continued the mercenary as the pilot's picture was put up and spun around so the gathered troopers could see it. "Her current status is unknown, but Osborn has ordered that we mount a rescue effort. Contact made after the crash included a pickup point: the Manhattan Museum of Contemporary Art. Your mission is to take a convoy, penetrate the IMC lines, retrieve Brown, and extract her back to our lines," revealed Sablinova flatly.
Next to Felicia, the Marauder clenched his fists at the mention of the Mayor's name. But he held his tongue as the Symkarian looked around to each of the men and women in the room before her eyes settled on the Texan. "Marauder" she addressed calmly, "I want your Titan to be available to support this incursion" she said, stunning them. The fact that she had wanted, not just one of the defenders very few Titans, but BT-7274, their most powerful, to help, which would also tip their hand that they had Titans, spoke volumes about what the dangers of this mission were. "Would that be possible?"
There was a heavy silence in the room as the Marauder stepped forward to the table and examined the terrain, "Yeah, I think BT is up to pulling off another miracle" he said as he pointed to a spot not too far from the crash site. "I can have him about there in an hour without the IMC noticing him. If things get to hot he can come bail us out, if not then he can get back just as easily."
Nodding in acceptance, Sable was satisfied with this answer. "Make it happen" she ordered curtly before turning back to the others. "Alright people, H-Hour is in 10 minutes, report to the motor pool and mount up." With that, her hand snapped to her forehead in salute. The Sable International troopers immediately went to attention and returned the gesture, the only ones who didn't were the Green and Black clad couple opposite Sablinova. But, to her surprise, even the Renegade Commando brought his hand up, two fingers tapping the front of his helmet, not a full salute, but a show of respect nonetheless. Chuckling a bit, even Hardy copied him, touching the front of her mask and held it until Sablinova snapped off the salute that was returned by everyone else. "Good hunting, dismissed."
As everyone began to file out, the Marauder stayed behind, still focused on the table, though the way he had his hand pressed to the side of his helmet betrayed what he was actual doing as Felicia came alongside him. But, strangely, Silver Sable was still there, looking at him from the corner of her eyes as she tapped away on her datapad. When Cooper finished, Sable snapped her head back up to look at him, "Marauder" she addressed, causing the other two people in the room to meet her eye to eye. "I received a report from Spider-Man while you were resting. It said he encountered an 'Apex Predator'" she revealed coolly, "What does that mean?"
The way the Marauder stiffened gave away how he felt, but the reveal caused even Hardy to blanch beneath her mask and hood. Of all the stories Matthew had told her about Typhon, none were more deeply etched in her mind than those involving the Apex Predators. "They're the reason I hate mercenaries" returned Cooper in a voice only just above a snarl, "Vicious, bloodthirsty, and loyal only to money, they are the most evil and twisted sons of bitches I've ever come across" explained the Marauder lowly, effectively summing up Felicia's own conclusions about the group based on what she had seen of them. "And they are very, very good."
Sable digested the words, "I will have my men be on alert" she returned as she led them out of the room, and they made their way towards the motor pool. "Titans then? According to Spider-Man the one he encountered had a horned skull logo. But he couldn't identify the classification, Gates said it was an 'Atlas' but that isn't one of the ones you told us about" she continued.
"Because Atlas class titans haven't been used in years" grunted Cooper in reply, "but each Predator always did their own things anyway. If you see one, then expect it to have a few extra tricks. They won't look like the standard IMC titans either" he explained. Sable was furiously typing out what he said into her tablet to update her forces on the new threat as they continued their way downstairs. "If you want recommendations…Terminate with extreme prejudice."
With those final words, Felicia and Matthew stepped outside and into the motor pool, where half a dozen Sable vehicles were sitting, engines running as troops climbed in. Four where the large boxy APCs, massive missile turrets on top, but Cooper and Hardy were assigned to vehicle two, a smaller, much less lightly armored truck. But it was military, if her research was right it was a Panhard VBL, the French made vehicle was used by that country's Special Forces. If there was any doubt about its uses, then the Heavy Machine Gun mounted on the roof would dissuade that notion. "I'll be up top" said Felicia as she clambered up into the back, keenly aware every man in a 20 yard radius was watching her and not minding.
"Of course you will" muttered Cooper as he slid into the passenger seat next to the Sable Trooper who was driving the vehicle. "At least you know how to handle a powerful weapon" he called back flirtatiously as Felicia grinned and got into the turret and worked the triggers of the GAU-19 three barreled electrically driven gun. The gun responded by spinning the barrels slowly and whirring dangerously, an evil grin working its way across her face at the sound.
Only then did their driver interject, "You yanks ready?" he asked in a deep voice, English accent obvious.
"As far as I'm concerned" returned Cooper as he stowed his personal arms and settled into the hard seat, "this'll be me and my sexy lady friend taking a romantic ride through the park, you're just our driver." The cockiness was back in his tone, and she could see the shit eating grin on his face inside the helm, it was as if he had flipped a switch. He had put the worries of the world behind him to focus on the here and now, and nothing excited him more than an adventure.
Except, Felicia conceded, her, which she was just fine with.
The driver chuckled as the lead vehicle began to roll forwards, "Well, I'm still the driver, which means I pick the music" he said as he worked the radio with one hand, "but I found some decent Yank music," finished the trooper as a set of familiar guitar chords worked their way out of the speakers.
As the convoy picked up speed, Felicia groaned as the Marauder hooted in approval at the selection. Then, incredibly, the two men began to sing along as the lyrics began. "Make us fight on the hill in the early day, constant chill deep inside…"
It almost made the Black Cat look forward to the inevitable point when the shooting started.
After waiting one hour after the fighting ended, Tony Masters dropped down from the rooftop, using his rocket pack to slow his descent as he came to street level. Peering through the eyes of the skull shaped mask of his 'Taskmaster' persona, the Mercenary marched purposely past the charred wrecks of various vehicles and dead and webbed up troopers towards the largest wreck. Drawing his sword from the sheath on his left hip, Taskmaster came to a stop as he scanned the wreck, gaze settling on the central, spherical pod. Despite being blackened and the central optical assembly totally shredded, to his eye it looked fine structurally.
Raising the glowing orange blade, the mercenary thrust it into a small gap and began to pry it open. Slowly but surely, the thick metal plate gave way as Masters slid a hand into the gap and pulled with everything he had until the hatch popped open. Using the glow of his sword, Taskmaster peered inside the cockpit, ignoring the sparks from eh damaged displays and controls, instead focusing on the body slumped over in the seat. Reaching out with his free arm, the mercenary grabbed the small man and slung him over his shoulder. It didn't escape his notice that he was dressed similarly to the Marauder, though, like his titan, he was clothed in a deep red color, the word 'Crimson' written above his visor.
Retreating back into cover with his passenger, Masters checked to ensure that nobody was around as he set the man down in a corner before cuffing his arms and legs. Once that was done and he was sure that his prisoner was secure, he pulled an encrypted sat phone from his belt and dialed a familiar number. "Taskmaster" greeted the scrambled monotone of his employer, "I trust you have news regarding your assignment," continued the contact, the words were not a question.
"That's correct" informed the Mercenary in his dry tones, "I managed to…acquire a pilot from the unknown faction as requested" he revealed curtly as he turned to look over his shoulder at the man in question. "He will be delivered to the RV in approximately two hours; I trust my payment will be made upon delivery?"
There was a slight chuckle on the other end of the line, "You negotiate like you work. Fast and to the point," returned the unknown intermediary, "the agreed upon amount will be wired to your account as soon as the transfer is made. But I just received word that the same employer is willing to offer you another contract to stay on and…ensure the prisoner's cooperation" explained the scrambled voice, carefully selecting those exact words.
Behind him, Masters could hear his captive begin to stir, shaking off whatever had happened to him as he began to slowly come to his senses. "Tell them I'll take it at twice my usual rate. I'll even get started right now…" he added before cutting the connection and turning back to the Pilot. The red hued lines on the mostly solid helmet, one vertical down the middle, and four angled on respective corners, were now looking up at him. "Can you understand me?" asked Masters, getting a slow nod in reply, "Good, that will make this easier" continued the skull masked mercenary as he stood over the pilot. "My employers want a Pilot to help them on a project and I'm supplying you," he explained flatly with no waver or give in his voice, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword in case he had to back up his words.
Of all of the responses Masters could have expected, the one he got was not on his mental list. "What's the rate?" returned the Pilot coolly as he casually tested the limits of his bonds, when Masters didn't reply; the pilot took that to mean he should continue, "From the sound of that call, you're a mercenary, like me. I joined this outfit to get away from home and the war. Now that I am, I need a new job" he explained.
Taskmaster mulled over the man's words before pulling the man to his feet, "I'll relay your request, maybe we can be partners later, but for now?" said the mercenary coldly, "for now, you're a package to deliver."
"RPG!"
Those three letters provoked an immediate reaction as Cooper swung the pintle mounted weapon ahead of him to the source and cut lose, red energy bursts leapt from the strange muzzle towards the window. By the time he had squeezed off his first shots, the IMC rocket slammed into the lead vehicle, blowing off a wheel and causing the vehicle to swerve and roll onto its side before skidding to a stop, blocking the road. The convoy ground to a halt immediately, "Form a perimeter! Double time!" barked out someone over the comms as Cooper instantly complied, pulling out his Launcher equipped SOAR.
Looking back, he saw Felicia begin to dismount as well, "No!" he shouted, startling her, "Stay on the big gun!" When she didn't seem convinced, he double jumped up to the turret and spoke quietly, "Spool this gun up and blow anyway anything that tries to get in the perimeter. I know you want to get out there, but I need someone I trust watching my back." Felicia relaxed and nodded as she settled back in behind the multi barrel machine gun as she spun it up once again. Letting out a sigh of relief, the Pilot dropped down to the street and was back on full alert. Around him, the Sable dismounts rushed to the disabled vehicle and began to work the doors open while the missile batteries remained on alert.
The minutes crawled past slowly, with Cooper keenly aware that the IMC would know they were here and were going to respond, the longer they stayed here the higher chance that they would get hit, and hit hard. "Sergeant!" he called out to a trooper who seemed to be supervising some others, "We need to get moving! What's the hold up?"
"We're waiting for a reroute from Sable command, as well as additional aerial reconnaissance," he replied as Cooper looked up the road to see some of the distinct white armored troopers scouting ahead. "Until then we've been ordered to hold here and solidify our perimeter" relayed the NCO as Cooper's jaw dropped inside his helmet, "so hold tight, we'll be moving inside of 10 minutes."
"10 minutes!?" replied the shocked Pilot, "We'll all be dead inside of two minutes. You listen to me, you get this convoy rolling or…" whatever he was about to say died on his lips with a thunderous CRACK! Ripped through the air and the vehicle at the rear of the halted Sable convoy erupted in a fireball a second later. "Shit," growled Cooper as he slung his rifle over his shoulder in favor of the Charge Rifle, "NORTHSTAR!" he called out, only needing to hear the distinct report of the plasma railgun echo through the streets.
But it was the massive form of a Legion that came around the corner; prompting a massive volley of missiles from the two remaining APC's to lash up at the Titan as a circular wall of blue light came out from the multi-barreled Predator Cannon in its hand to absorb the first few. There wasn't any more time for talking as Cooper raised the Charge Rifle and snapped off a shot that went straight into the hatch as chaos broke out. Skidding to a stop next to the vehicle he had disembarked from he began to climb in as he yelled at the driver, "Let's get the fuck outta' here!"
Incredibly, the Sable trooper chose then to be stubborn, "Not until we have the order! I'm not…"
Whatever he was about to say never made it out as Cooper punched him in the face and dragged him into the passenger seat. Clambering over the knocked out trooper and into the driver's seat, the Pilot threw the vehicle into reverse as he looked back at a shocked Black Cat. "Spin 'em up sweetheart!" he called as the VBL lurched back as the Marauder cranked the wheel over and swerved onto the curb. While he was busy doing that, the Thief was leaning back, hands gripped tight around the dual spade grip as she pressed both buttons down her expression cold as the gun went hot.
A stream of .50 caliber rounds poured into the staggering Titan as Cooper slammed the shifter into drive and put the pedal to the metal, the French armored car responding quickly as Hardy continued to pour on the lead at a rate of 20 of the half inch slugs every second. While she wasn't the most experienced with this type of weapon, the target was so massive and the range so close that she couldn't possibly miss. They were having some effect too; chunks of armor had been shredded and the Titan had been forced to one knee as one leg had been knocked out. But even with that success, it was clear why the Texan was so keen to be somewhere else, already a second Titan had appeared, just as large and bulky as the first, and raised its hands to the sky.
Cooper saw this in the mirror and knew what was coming, though he was relieved to see one of the larger APCs follow suit as the Scorch Titan slammed its closed fists to the ground, sending out a wave of burning thermite out towards the remnants of the halted convoy. Thinking fast, the Marauder spun the wheel as the armored car responded smartly, slamming into a newspaper stand as it rounded a corner. He even let out a sigh of relief at the sight that the other APC had made it before the wave of fire rolled past, consuming both man and machine with equal fury. But that relief was short lived as the headlights settled on the familiar silhouettes of IMC Specters, "Targets front!" he called out over the Com as Felicia spun the gun around its ring mount. Barrels still spinning and glowing red hot, the heiress took aim before cutting loose with the .50 cal again, mowing the machines down where they stood like chaff.
Not slowing down for anything, Cooper put his foot to the floor as he barreled over the damaged machines, crushing them beneath the run flat tires of the Panhard as they sped into the night and broke contact. All in all, from start to finish the entire fiasco had lasted 90 seconds.
Lying prone in the shadows of an alleyway, Lanner kept her breaths as shallow and steady as she could while yet another IMC patrol passed her by. Ever since she had touched down, she had been putting her SERE training to use, with both foot patrols and some strange flying drone things. Still, she was ever so thankful that her radio was working and she had been able to arrange for rescue, selecting the Manhattan Museum of Contemporary Art to be the extraction point, if only because it was the only landmark she could recall from memory in the area.
And now there was just this one street between her and her destination.
Waiting a few agonizing minutes more to make sure the coast was absolutely clear, the Captain slowly got to her feet and bolted across the street before pressing herself to the building. Keeping her sidearm drawn and at the ready, she tried the first door she came across, cursing under her breath when she found it locked. Squeezing her pistol tighter, she began making her way along the building until she managed to find a loading dock, one of the doors wasn't closed all the way, just enough for her to squeeze through.
Once inside, she made her way deeper into the museum. Allowing herself to relax ever so slightly, she strolled slowly through the barren exhibits, taking them in to try and push her extreme circumstances from her mind, if only for a bit. Any semblance of peace was shattered when she heard another voice inside the museum. Flicking the safety off on her Barretta once again, Lanner crept closer to a corner as she began to make out the words. "…situation is under control Boss, should be wrapped up in a few minutes," said the woman confidently.
Straining to hear more, the next sound the A-10 driver heard was the sound of rapid footsteps heading her way. "What do you mean Crimson is gone?" she asked quickly, her speech pattern now as fast as her steps as they got louder. "I'm moving now, just need to…"
"Freeze bitch" snarled Lanner as the woman rounded the corner, one hand pressed to her ear while the other held a strange looking helmet at her waist. The unknown then turned to look at the Thunderbolt Pilot as the latter's jaw dropped as she stared at an almost mirror image of herself.
They were close enough that Brown could hear what was being said in the earpiece, a gruff Afrikaans accent barked out, "Ice! What's going on Ice! Respond, that's an order!"
Lanner watched as a twisted smirk creeped onto the face of 'Ice' before she answered. "Nothing Boss, just found the package. Collecting her now," said the Apex Predator. Just as the words registered to the Thunderbolt Pilot, the other Pilot swung her helmet, causing Lanner to flinch reflexively, but the helmet wasn't aimed at her head, but her hands. The blow caused the Barretta to clatter to the floor as the Apex Predator followed up with a powerful punch that sent Brown down alongside the gun, out cold.
Turning the VBL off, the Marauder grabbed his rifle and stepped out of the armored car as he strode towards the other vehicle that had escaped the ambush to see that it had come to a stop and those inside were beginning to dismount. Likewise, Felicia hoisted herself up out of the gunner's position and slid down the Panhard to land next to him. This mission had shown itself to be the colossal clusterfuck that he had suspected it would be.
Now, what was left of the convoy was here in this parking garage a few blocks from their objective, and the weight of the fact that they were all that was left was heavy in the air. While trying to figure out just how he was going to get out of this, the radio in the Marauders helmet crackled to life with a familiar and relief inspiring warbling monotone. "Major Cooper, I am en route to the waypoint. ETA: 15 minutes. What is your status?" asked the machine as the Pilot let out an audible sigh of relief.
"Still alive buddy" he answered, "that's the extent of the good news. As far as the mission…SNAFU" supplied the Texan in his usual drawl. Turning, he could see Cat cock her head in question before he elaborated, "Situation Normal: All Fucked Up." Letting out a breath, he composed himself before coming to an inevitable conclusion: someone would have to step up and take charge, and if anybody was going to do it then Cooper wanted it to be him. "Listen BT, get in position and be ready, I'll call when I need you" he ordered calmly.
"Understood Major Cooper," responded the Titan, "Good luck, BT-7274 out."
With that done, the Pilot steeled himself as the connection went to static and he turned to the Sable Troopers in front of him. "If there aren't any objections then I'll take charge of this operation," he said while doing his best to imitate Yuri and the air of authority she had. For a brief moment it looked like it would go smoothly, right up until it didn't.
Behind Matthew, the sound of one of the VBLs doors slamming shut echoed through the parking garage, "Damn right I object, ya bastard" called the Englishman as he came up, still somewhat dazed from the knockout punch the Pilot had delivered earlier. "You left the rest of them to die! Why in the hell should you be in charge?" he sneered as he got right up in Coopers face, matching him in height.
"Because I actually know what's waiting for us out there" growled the Marauder lowly, "I won't sugar coat it, the odds are long, but everyone here would be dead if I did nothing" he argued calmly, though he didn't try to hide the edge in his voice. Turning back around, he addressed the others, "I'm not saying this'll be easy, but I am saying that sticking with me will be your best bet."
There was a snort of contempt from the irate Sable Trooper, "Up until you leave us all for dead" he muttered under his breath.
Rounding on him, the Marauder snarled "There is an American ANG Pilot out there that needs our help" he reminded, "if you don't want to help her, then walk out that door but good luck getting back to Sable lines." The offer hung in the air, not so much as to give the men a choice, but to reinforce the fact that there wasn't one. Turning back wasn't really on the table, and everyone knew it. "This won't be easy, but fighting isn't about how hard you can hit. It's about how hard you can get hit and still get back up. I still have some fight in me, so I'm going to get up, go out there, and punch those sonsofbitches right in their motherfucking teeth." Pausing, he then took the time to look right at the visor of every mercenary in that parking garage, "and all I really have to know…is who's coming with me" he said.
There was a full minute of tense silence as the Sable troopers communicated with their internal radios before one finally squared up to the Marauder and addressed the SRS Pilot. "We're with you sir…all of us" he added, nodding towards the dissenter, "our tally is two combat ready fire teams and three drivers, what's the plan Major?"
Cooper let out a small sigh of relief before settling down, cocky smirk on his face, "Nice and simple, four shooters with me move on foot to the RV and secure the principal. The rest stay here and protect the vehicles" he began. "I'm bringing in BT, when we all come back; we mount up and make a break for it. We'll be mixing things up and shooting our way out," he explained with a small grin. "Any questions?"
There were none, the Sable Soldiers straightened, "Decide who's coming with. If you are then grab ammo, turn off long range radios, and for fucks sake douse those stupid lights" he ordered, "We roll in 10." With that, the white armored mercenaries got to work getting ready to move out. With that out of the way, the Marauder turned to the Thief and beckoned her to follow him until they were out of earshot of the others before he removed his helmet and ran a gloved hand through his hair. "Alright Cat, I want you to go ahead and scout" he began, anticipating her talking back, he cut off any response by saying "I know you want to stay together, but you're the quickest one here and light on your feet, plus I trust you to be able to spot another trap. Trust me to…"
He stopped talking when a gloved finger was placed over his lips as he noticed the amused smirk on Felicia's own. "I do trust you" she said softly, "I'll do it" confirmed the burglar as she pulled her hand back.
"Thank you, Felicia," murmured Matthew honestly, "now, since our objective is a museum, I assume you know how to get there and how to get in?"
Her head cocked in an amused way, "I can get into that place three different ways…and that's when all the security systems are online" asserted the woman with a smirk. "I am more than just a pretty face" she purred confidently.
"I know, you also have a great ass" deadpanned the Pilot, though the cocky smirk on his face undercut his somewhat flat delivery. "I think long range radio is compromised, stay on our bands if you have to talk, use IR flicks otherwise. We'll be on street level but feel free to stick to the rooftops."
Felicia nodded in acknowledgement before the burglar became more serious, "Promise me you'll be careful cowboy, I want to be able to ride with you into the sunset when this is over" she admitted quietly.
"I promise" replied the Marauder instantly before his smile turned into a grin, "but do you want to ride with me or just ride me?" he asked cockily.
"That's for me to know and you to find out" returned the heiress without missing a beat as she turned and began to stride away, hips swaying enticingly all the way until she rounded the corner and vanished.
Dousing the less than pure thoughts in his mind, Cooper muttered "Talk about motivation" before slipping his helmet on and making his own preparations.
Maintaining her stoic expression, Sable let out a small sigh of relief that she was nearing the end of this conversation. It was only due to her discipline that she was able to keep a straight face through the past half hour and that her internal turmoil wasn't apparent. True, so far the defenders had executed the plan almost perfectly; inflicting heavy loses while sustaining remarkably few casualties, but to Sablinova the direness of the situation was apparent. Now, all of the defenders were at the last line of defense with their backs truly against the wall. With the full weight of the IMC being brought to bear on them, they couldn't hold out forever. To make matters worse, they had lost contact with the Marauder's convoy, the fact that one of their most capable soldiers might have been thrown away on a suicidal mission perturbed her to her core.
No, she didn't want to leave the Pilot to her fate, but the effort to rescue her may have cost the lives of forty men, and that wasn't a trade Sablinova liked. That was simply the brutal calculus of war, and it was her profession to work those equations for the best outcomes. Yet she knew why it had been done, and who was responsible. "I give you word, help is on its way," repeated Osborn, his face taking up the screen in the comm room. She had heard that same assurance a half dozen times, and she didn't care to hear it again. "What is the status of the mission to rescue Captain Brown?" asked the mayor expectantly.
The Symkarian closed her eyes to gather herself. "We lost contact with the convoy half an hour ago" began the mercenary, "we're waiting on updated aerial reconnaissance to confirm the situation." Only she knew Osborn had very deliberately ordered that the Marauder be sent on this mission, and judging by his reaction, she guessed he had expected, or at least desired, this outcome. He too had pondered a specific set of equation, but the result of his calculus was his own gain.
Osborn nodded mock solemnly as he mulled the news over, "That is…regrettable" replied the billionaire executive in the way one does when presented with 'low fat' ice cream, not even attempting to sound greatly displeased at the loss of the Marauder, or her men. "That will be all Miss Sablinova, dismissed" finished the Mayor curtly before making a slashing motion across his net, an instant later, the feed was cut.
Only now did Silver fully relax, heaving a heavy sigh and taking a deep breath before taking a moment to compose herself. Straightening her tunic and running her hands over the fabric in an effort to make herself somewhat more presentable, the Mercenary adjusted her beret to realign it properly before stepping out of the comm booth and back into the command room. "Latest updates for you ma'am" said an aide as a fresh datapad was passed to her and she began to flip through the information.
She only paused for more than a second when she reached one particular item: the aerial images of the convoy ambush site. While she could see several wrecked vehicles and, to her pride and satisfaction, a destroyed Titan on the ground, a quick count brought a small smile to her face. There were two vehicles missing from the kill zone, and Sable was confident she knew what that meant. "Don't die yet Marauder, I want to see the look on Osborn's face when you get back" she whispered under her breath before steeling herself and putting the tablet aside and getting back to more pressing matters. "I need the latest updates on IMC troop movements! Double time!"
"We might have a problem," murmured Felicia over the radio as she scanned over streets below, "I'm seeing IMC activity at the museum, northeast corner. Defensive perimeter with several light vehicles," she rattled off. From her vantage the Thief could make out a few light trucks similar to the VBL and one larger APC type vehicle. There were more pressing issues however, "I'm seeing what looks like two Reapers, say again, TWO Reapers and additional infantry, break, advise caution, copy cowboy?"
"Solid copy darlin" drawled the Marauder coolly, still hanging by her grapple, which she was using as a makeshift rappel to hang off the side of a building, the Black Cat swung her head around to see the Pilot lead the four others closer. "Confirm eyes on hostiles. You two, cross the street on my mark…mark" ordered the Texan coolly as Felicia tracked two of the black and white armored Sable Troopers dash across the darkened street, only visible to her via her NVGs. "Darlin, I want you to move north and find a new vantage, fast and quiet" he ordered as Felicia moved to comply.
Reeling in her hook instead pulled her upwards until she was on the rooftop before she looked north and spied her next destination. Taking a running start, Hardy fired the grapple at the corner of the building, felling it connect before she took the last few steps and leapt off the roof. Soaring through air as her arm strained and she brought her feet up before leaning to guide herself around the corner and out of sight before using the grapple to haul herself upwards onto the rooftop. Repeating the process once more, Felicia had a new angle to view the IMC position, and the news was bad. "I'm in position" she reported as she zoomed in as far as the visor allowed her to confirm her suspicions. She could see a woman in a grungy flight suit on her knees with a blindfold wrapped around her head and cuffs on her wrists, "Looks like the IMC have our pilot, she's behind the middle vehicle, the big one" relayed the thief.
"Shit," cursed the Marauder bluntly. "Bastards just had to go ahead and make things interesting," muttered the man as he mulled the situation over. Looking south, Felicia could see the five men work their way carefully up the street, getting ever closer while remaining out of sight. "Fuck it, it's too quiet anyways. Get ready to go loud everyone, new plan…"
Cooper worked his jaw as he felt the hum caused by the surge of adrenaline in his veins, looking to his left he saw the other two Sable troopers pressed against the museum as they advanced in parallel. Making one last check that his R-201 was loaded and ready, the Marauder looked back at the two troopers with him, one of which had the large tube of a Carl Gustav resting on his shoulder. "You boys ready to kick this thing off?" asked the Pilot.
They both gave curt nods in reply before one spoke up, "We're ready sir, but…are you?" he asked, clearly unsure about the plan Matthew had proposed. Indeed, to those unfamiliar with the Marauder and exactly what he was capable of, it sounded absurd. However, the Marauder had been waiting for a long time to cut loose, and the IMC coming into his new home was just the excuse he needed.
"Oh yeah" he responded as he dropped the bolt, "I've been looking forward to doing this" admitted the SRS Renegade. With that, he began to charge forwards before igniting his jump kit to launch himself up on to the side of the building, running along it before leaping away right towards the nearest Reaper, already having a Fire Star drawn. "Yippy Ki Yay" snarled the Texan as the IMC finally noticed his approach and turned to face him, the reaper he was bearing down on sounding out a rumbling roar like noise.
At that, Cooper hurled the thermite packed shuriken right into the red eye socket of the Reaper as he phase shifted through the machine, coming back out as he slid along the ground, twisting his upper body to bring his Carbine to bear on the shocked grunts milling about and cut loose with a long burst, shredding them where they stood. Not daring to stop, the Marauder used his grapple to pull himself up and away as he turned his rifle back to the Reaper and triggered the launcher, sending an armor piercing slug straight through the midsection, staggering it long enough for his backup to line up a shot. The Sweedish designed recoilless rifle gave off its distinct echoing report as it fired, an anti tank round slamming into the machine, causing it to topple over.
With one down, the Marauder had even more freedom as he acquired the second Reaper and dropped down to square off against it. As the machine raised its hands and powered up its plasma projectors, the Pilot charged forwards, his STIM giving him a distinct blue contrail as he dove and rolled under a barrage of superheated gas before his jump kit propelled him up and he came down atop the machine. Bucking wildly, the Reaper tried in vain to dislodge its passenger, to no avail. Cooper had his axe in one hand, pick buried deep in the armor of the Reaper as he used his free hand to open up an access panel to expose the vital innards of the heavy mechanized unit. Snarling in rage, Cooper drew his Smart Pistol and unloaded the whole magazine into the electrical guts until he realized he wasn't doing much more than pissing it off. Exchanging his side arm for a frag grenade, Cooper activated it before jamming it into the Reaper and sliding off, hitting the ground and activating his phase shift to escape the explosion before sliding into cover behind a car.
After being pulled back to reality, he could hear the Reaper give off one last warbling roar before the grenade detonated, shredding the internals and triggering a chain reaction as explosions tore through the mechanical monster. With that, most of the hard work was done; now all that was left was to quell the rabble as he slammed fresh magazines into the R-201 and MK6 before tossing out a smoke grenade.
A pulse blade followed, illuminating the remaining troops as they all converged on his location en masse. Smirking, Cooper placed a hand to his helmet, "Alright sweetheart, I got their attention. Do your thing."
Upon hearing those words, Felicia went to work as she repelled down from her current vantage until she was at street level before disconnecting her hook and reeling it in. With her black suit ensuring she was neigh invisible in the darkness that covered the street, she advanced towards the museum, critically; she did so from the side opposite where the Marauder now was. With speed being just as critical as stealth, she was moving at near enough a dead sprint, but the thief was light on her feet, and near silent except for her shallow breaths. Pulling the sleek Five-Seven from the small of her back and flicking off the safety, the Burglar saw the world through the green tint of her masks NV mode as she reached the trailing truck and came to a halt. Pulling a smoke grenade from her bandolier, she pulled the pin out with clenched teeth before rolling it under the truck until it went off right at the feet of the two soldiers guarding the reason she was here.
Quickly swapping her visor to go into IR mode, she went into the smoke cloud as she took aimed and planted a shot straight through the head of the first before smoothly transitioning to the second as he saw his friend fall dead as his feet before she pulled the trigger again. With that done, she stepped over the bodies before crouching down next to the Captain, shaking fearfully at the commotion she could hear, but not see. "It's okay, I'm here to rescue you" assured Hardy as the battle continued to rage around them. "My god, look at me, rescuing damsels in distress" she muttered as she worked the locks on Lanner's cuffs, "I've let Spider rub off on me too much." A second later, with a satisfying 'click', the restraints were off as Felicia worked the gag and blindfold next before getting the woman to her feet.
"Th…thank you" managed the weary Pilot as she looked down at the two dead grunts and blanched a bit.
Hardy flashed a grin, "Don't thank me yet, still haven't finished the rescue" she reminded before a set of headlights began to illuminate the road, causing Hardy to peek out and see an IMC APC rumbling down the road towards them. "Get down" hissed the thief as she looked around before her eyes settled on what she needed. Scooping up the Archer, the Black Cat casually stepped out of cover and took aim before loosing the Anti-Titan rocket on the vehicle, blowing it sky high. "So uncivilized" she said disapprovingly as she discarded the empty bazooka and went back to Brown. Wrapping one of the pilot's arms around her shoulders to help carry her weight, the thief grabbed Lanner by the waist and pulled the woman close, "Hang on tight, I'm not shy" she teased flippantly as she took aim with a grapple gun and spirited the two away.
But it seemed things were never easy as she heard a distinct trundling in the distance and turned to look up the road to see a familiar, terrible sight. "Cowboy! IMC Tank!"
"When it rains it just fucking pours, doesn't it?" grunted Cooper to himself at this latest development as bullets from the last of the grunts pinged off the car he was cowering behind. "Everyone: Fall back" he ordered over the comms, "I'll stall 'em" he announced before breaking cover just as the tank fired, obliterating the car that had been his cover and showering the Marauder with debris. Changing direction, he cut back the other way right as the second barrel fired, sending a 140mm high explosive round towards him, impacting just 10 feet from him and sending him flying through the air, arms and legs flailing.
Cooper slammed into a building, knocking the wind out of him and cracking a rib before he fell to the street, crying out in pain as he felt another rib crack, sending a spike of pain through him as he rolled onto his back, wincing the whole way. His ears rung incessantly; the noise of the whole world drowned out to the Marauder. Like a grim reaper, the massive tank trundled slowly towards him as Matt's hazed head tried to fight back, crawling back as he pulled the MK6 from his holster and fired the Smart Pistol, the rounds pinging uselessly off the hulking armored behemoth.
With his fate sealed as the turret pointed at him, the Marauder's mind wandered aimlessly through a concussed fog, he murmured the only coherent thought that formed, "I'm sorry Felicia," before the ground began to shake under him. He wasn't fully cognizant of what was happening, but registered the muzzle flash of the tank gun just as a wall of blue light appeared in front of him, shielding the Pilot as the tank shell was stopped in mid air and a massive mechanical hand plucked him from the ground. "BT?" he mumbled drowsily as he was stuffed inside the cockpit and the hatch closed.
Now sealed within the familiar territory, his mind seemed to return somewhat as he grabbed a first aid kit and injected a cocktail of stimulants and painkillers into his leg, giving him the kick in the ass he needed to try and fight his way out. "Major Cooper, what is your status? Your vitals are fluctuating rapidly" intoned the Vanguard as the video displays came on line and Cooper slowly took hold of the controls.
"Still breathing buddy" returned the Pilot as he linked in to the machine and took control, immediately hurling the tank shell back at the vehicle, breaking its energy shield as he raised the XO-16. "C'mon you sons of bitches, is that all you got?" he growled as he squeezed the trigger, sending 20mm shells into the armor, denting it as the Titan closed the gap. Just as the tank was about to fire its second round, Matthew reached out with one of the titan's massive hands and bent the barrel. The tank fired anyway and the round exploded before it even left the muzzle, turning the metal to splinters.
Even if the Vanguard shuddered from the shockwave, it was Cooper who found himself hit the hardest, his teeth rattled and spikes of pain erupted from his wounds as the shockwave only re aggravated his injuries. But the Marauder was not about to die, not yet, and raising the fist of the Titan, slammed it down, buckling the roof of the vehicle before ripping the armored plate clean off. Looking down on the terrified crewmen, he felt neither pity nor remorse as he unleashed a salvo of missiles at point blank range. Operating under an adrenaline addled haze, the Marauder stood BT to his full height and looked for more targets as his helmet radio crackled in his ear. "We're clear cowboy" came the soft voice of his lover, triggering memories that refocused the Pilot on where he had to go and what he had to do, "as soon as you make it back we'll head out." Spinning around and fighting off a tinge of nausea, ears still buzzing, the Pilot spotted the waypoint BT had provided him, grateful the machine was helping make up for his deficiencies as he took a step that way.
But as soon as he took that step, a force like a freight train slammed into the side of BT, knocking the Vanguard into a building as the shields were instantly drained. Reflexively raising the Vortex shield as he turned to meet this new threat, Cooper's eyes narrowed on the spherical midsection and gangly arms and legs of a North Star class Titan. But what made this one stand out was the horned skull of the Apex Predators painted on the front, but with icicles hanging from the distinct curved horns. Barring his teeth and sneering at his foe, Cooper reacted by dashing left into cover, buying him some time to come up with a plan.
Knowing his reactions were slowed, the Pilot decided to capitalize on a key weakness of the North Star, the relatively weak armor protection and lack of defensive options offered by the Titan. Toggling an extensive list of death dealing options, Cooper selected the most imposing, the Legion Load out. Centered on the devastating Predator Cannon, the specialty of this load out was Aggressive Sustained Counter fire, just what he would need. In an instant, the phase resupply technology caused the eight barreled rotary weapon to appear in BT-7274s mechanical hands as Cooper gave it an experimental spin. Looking out, he could see debris get blown across the ground at the corner and quickly spun the gun up to max rpms as the Titan backpedaled, albeit at a painfully slow speed due to the bulk.
Just as Cooper suspected, his foe was taking advantage of the lighter machine's hover ability, rounding the corner forty feet above the ground only to find the eight barrels of the Predator Cannon awaiting her. Without hesitation, Cooper squeezed the trigger, unloading 14.5mm armor piercing rounds at a rate of 2000 rounds per minute, turning the arms and legs of his foe into swiss cheese as she charged her massive plasma railgun until the muzzle glowed red hot. At the last possible second, Cooper deployed his defensive option, a blue wall of hard light springing to life around the Cannon that absorbed the shot, only for the Apex Predator to launch a circular object at him.
As soon as the object hit the ground, a cable leapt out and tethered BT, holding the Vanguard to his spot as Matthew continued to pour lead into the North Star, knowing he would have to pummel it into submission eventually. But, to his shock, his foe kept coming until its thrusters finally gave out, but the smaller Titan lashed out with a foot on the way down, sending BT staggering back, only held upright by the tether trap. Just as the Texan was about to recover, the Apex Predator swung her railgun, ripping the legs out from under him and sending the SRS Titan crashing down onto his back, throwing the Pilot inside around the cockpit.
As the Marauder slammed his helmet into the hatch and then back against his headrest, he could feel the taste of copper in his mouth as he shook his head to clear his mind and saw the North Star standing over him. Ignoring whatever alert BT was intoning, the Pilot reached out by instinct and grabbed a car on the side of the road, slamming it into the Apex Predator to knock her away as he went on the attack. Using his dashing thrusters, the Vanguard surged up and shoulder checked his enemy back into a building. Seizing the opening, he charged forwards and threw his full weight into the smaller machine just as it activated the hover jets and flung itself skywards. Still, all 40 tons of Militia metal went into one leg and pinned it to the building as Cooper reached up and grabbed it with both hands, twisting and ripping armor away, feeling it give beneath the Vanguards grip.
But the Apex Predator jammed her Plasma Railgun into the top of BT and snapped off a shot, and with no shields left from the battering he had taken, the round impacted the chassis. The super cool shot caused the metal on the top of the cockpit to harden suddenly before the bulk of mass hit it, sending a few high velocity splinters down into the cockpit, one of which embedded itself in Matt's leg. He screamed out in pain and relinquished his grip, the Apex Predator limping off as he fought through the pain to keep BT upright. Just as he reached the last corner, an explosion went off behind the Vanguard as the cluster missile detonated, more explosions rattling the Marauder's machine as it got to safety.
Fighting to hang onto consciousness just a little bit longer, Matt guided his machine to their destination before he could take no more and collapsed down onto one knee before triggering the emergency release.
Felicia knew something was wrong well before she laid eyes on BT. Standing vigil at the entrance of the parking garage, she could hear the battle raging just on the next street, but her lover remained silent. No taunts or one liners, he didn't even respond to her when she hailed him. All the Thief could do was wait and hope that he would pull through. "Please Matt" she begged under her breath when she saw the hulking form of BT-7274 round the corner and a smile burst onto her face at the sight of all the kill marks and the pin up art of her painted on the machine. But that elation quickly turned to panic as she noticed the battle scars the machine bore, and the way it lumbered, lacking the poise or power it seemed to always have. When it finally arrived, it came down to one knee before the hatch opened and her lover spilled out onto the street. "Cooper!" she cried out as she rushed forwards to her lover.
"Baby, what the hell happened?" she asked in near terror as she looked down at him, "MEDIC!" she called out as she went to her knees next to him and worked his helmet off. His eyes were foggy and wandering, blood dripped from his mouth as he coughed and more spilled down his lips. A massive piece of metal was jammed into his thigh and his armor was buckled, scales missing, and blood stained. "It's going to be alright stud, stay with me" she begged as a hand came up and she grabbed it, holding it tight.
"Felicia" managed the Marauder through weak breaths, "take…BT" he ground out before wincing in pain as she stared at him in shock. "Do it" he urged with as much force as he could.
But the heiress shook her head fervently, "No no, no," she insisted fervently, "you do it, you're going to be alright" she reassured as the Sable Medic arrived. "We need you cowboy…I need you" she pleaded.
But the Marauder shook his head as he stared up at her with those charming blue eyes, "Not…not this time darlin'' he managed before he hacked a cough, "Take BT" he insisted.
Before she could retort again, the Titan itself chimed in. "Black Cat, in the instance the Major is unable to perform his duties as Pilot, you are the one designated to be his successor" reminded the machine.
"I can't" she whispered, she was a thief, not a soldier, and definitely not a Pilot.
"You can" responded the Marauder as he gave her hand a small squeeze, likely all he could manage with his fading strength, "kick ass sweetheart," he ordered, "and Felicia, I…" he began before his eyes rolled back and he passed out, she could still feel life in his hand, but it wouldn't last if they didn't get him out.
Looking up as she fought back a tear, the thief could hear the hostile Titan advancing; it was do or die time. Barring her teeth as she growled, the Black Cat turned to BT. "Let's do this" snarled the thief, fires of determination burning in her chest as she was scooped up and guided into the blood-stained cockpit of the Vanguard. Settling into the hard and tight seat, Felicia placed her hands on either armrest, getting a feel for the controls as she felt a buzz surround her head.
"Protocol 1: Link to Pilot. Establishing Neural Link" intoned the machine as green lines and dots filled her vision as the buzzing increased in intensity before subsiding. "Neural Link established. Felicia Hardy, you are now confirmed as acting pilot of BT-7274" droned the machine as those words sent a chill down the woman's spine. There was something about this, the weight of experiencing this moment, the same one Cooper had on Typhon a year prior that struck her and struck her hard. "Protocol 2: Uphold the Mission. Defeat hostile titans and escort Sable International Convoy back to friendly territory" reminded the machine as Felicia slowly refocused. Taking a deep breath as the screens began to come online, she got a feel for the buttons, reciting the basics Matthew had told her the day before as she rolled her neck. "Protocol 3: Protect the Pilot" continued the Vanguard, "Good luck."
Quickly bringing up a menu, Felicia licked her lips like she was in an unguarded diamond vault, perusing the selection before settling on one. With the Ronin loadout selected, she had a leadwall shotgun and massive 15 foot long arc charged broadsword at her disposal, intending to get up close and personal with whatever rounded that corner. Indeed, when the IMC titan did round the corner, it stopped to regard the scene, allowing Felicia to get a good look at it, narrowing her eyes at the Apex Predator logo it bore before drawing the massive sword and holding it in a classic ready stance. Finally, she extended one hand and beckoned her opponent to come at her, "Come let me show you what happens when you mess with the Marauder" she intoned in a low, venom filled voice, "because then you mess with me."
Even if her opponent couldn't hear her, the hostile Titan charged down the street before rocketing into the air and extending two massive missile pods over its shoulders. Eyes widening, Felicia sprinted forwards, holding the sword up to block as the first missiles came at her. "Alert: Heavy incoming fire, recommend phase dash" warbled BT as Felicia did just that, sending herself and the Titan through an alternate dimension to close the gap. Coming out just beneath the NorthStar as it pulled out its massive gun and returned to earth, Felicia swung the broadsword with all her fury and cleaved the Plasma Railgun in two as the Apex Predator responded with a punch that sent her reeling.
Dashing back, she traded the Broadsword for the Leadwall and came up firing, sending blasts of 40mm pellets downrange into her foe, the massive impacts causing the smaller titan to stagger as more chunks of armor were stripped off the NorthStar. When the magazine was emptied, Felicia merely discarded it and drew the sword once more, throwing a wave of arc energy towards her foe to stun her so she could close in for the kill. While the enemy pilot raised an arm to shield herself, Felicia delivered a savage strike that severed the limb before following it up with a strike that cleaved through a leg, sending the titan down onto the ground and knocking the hatch loose. Felicia looked down at her vanquished foe who squirmed in her seat harness as she raised the sword once more. "And when you mess with this cat, you get the claws" she finished coldly before driving the sword down through the Pilot and Titan, ending both with one brutal stroke.
"Black Cat, this is Metal 0-1. Marauder is secure and we are ready to move out. What's your status?"
Looking down one last time at the destroyed enemy Titan, Felicia realized she felt neither pity nor remorse. "All finished here. Let's go" she returned as she turned the Titan away and began to escort the others back to friendly lines.
End of the day, both she and Matthew had survived, and that was all that she cared about.
Cooper's Logbook – Titan Loadout: Legion
This Titan is the epitome of the phrase 'when in doubt, empty the magazine.' There isn't much subtle about this loadout, especially less so when paired with its most common chassis, the Ogre. While in theory able to be wielded by the smaller Atlas chassis it is often attached to a modified Ogre for the larger machines heavier armor that makes it more able to weather the inevitable counterfire that comes back at you when you are the largest target on the field and wielding the largest gun. However, there is a practical limit to the amount of bullets you can shove down a single barrel. Thankfully, you can always add more.
The Predator Cannon is a formidable 14.5mm eight-barrel rotary cannon able to spit out up to 8500 round per minute, even if most pilots turn down the cyclic rate. While a new design, the tried and true concept, which dates back to the American Civil War, grants excellent reliability and accuracy. One key difference from other similar weapons is the way it siphons gas from four of the eight barrels to recharge the weapons attached power pack, allowing it to get away with a much smaller unit than should be required for a weapon of this size.
Proving that Pilots have no imagination whatsoever, the shield the gun projects is called a 'Gun Shield.' This can only be deployed while the gun is spooled up and leveled, since it siphons power from the same power source that spins up the gun. Spinning up the gun like this is how the 'Power Shot' works, the Predator Cannon loads all eight barrels and spins them up so fast that when the rounds are fired it appears that they all come out as a single shot to the naked eye. The automatic fire control can either have these rounds land on top of the previous one for maximum armor penetration or spread the out to stagger Titans or Reapers. All of these abilities can be used in conjunction with the Smart Core, proving that the engineers of this kit were clearly a fan of 1980's action cinema. Not only is the Predator Cannon a scaled up version of the weapon wielded by Jesse Ventura in Predator, but this core ability turns it into an even more badass M56 Smartgun from Aliens. Slaving the weapon into the sensors of Legion to bring it to bear on any targets within the forward quarter automatically with the aid of specialized 'smart' ammunition like that in the MK6, enabling the precise, high speed lead packages to be delivered at a frightening rate.
When it comes down to it, Legion is defined by eight barrels, aggressive sustained counterfire, and payback delivered at muzzle velocity 115 times every second.
Closing Notes: Lotta fun for this one, pretty obvious Black Hawk Down stuff going on here, which is a great film if you haven't seen it. A few nods to Saving Private Ryan and one of the early Titanfall cinematic trailers were thrown in for good measure. The overall intent was to do a smaller and more intimate chapter overall, more character driven and that sort of thing. Less of the really big battle sequences up until the Titans come out at the very end, and the sequence where Felicia takes control of BT was, of course, inspired by the same scene in Titanfall 2. People seem to like them as a romantic couple, and so I'm trying to move that along by giving them shared experiences, and we see Felicia go through a small arc in this chapter too, hopefully it came through to some extent.
Review if you have something to say as we pass the halfway mark of this story arc, there are five chapters left and I'm curious as to what everyone things so far.
Next chapter you will hear the sound of the mortars, the music of death, a grand symphony, from Stalingrad.
Stay Frosty, Misfit Delta out.