Wow it's been awhile since I updated but this chapter is as finish as I
need it to be. You'll find out what I mean at the end and is something I'm
actually quite proud of. Let's recap from the prologue. A Raven, dealing
with the Indies, gets his just desserts when he's ambushed and killed by an
AC piloted by a mysterious femal. Sounds fun. Try tying the prologue to
this chapter. I bet it'll make your head but try a few chapter's later and
I bit it'll feel real nice
Anyways AC is owned by From software. They own the core's I own the characters and with out further a due. A story
Deck One: Deadline
"Alright we're giving him just five more minutes." An uneasy Lieutenant Chaltu yelled to his subordinates around him. The lieutenant along with his small military force of light walker assault MT's from the Neo Isaac bureau waited anxiously near a small manufacturing plant on the edge of the massive city. A terrorist group had taken over the building just five hours ago, asking for release of one of their main leaders, Edwin Paulson. Negotiations have slowly deteriorated and in the previous hour the group stated they would kill one of their hostages every hour. By Chaltu's account. There were only about ten minutes until they would kill the first. The air in that part of the city had become very still and a deaf silence had begun to set in along the area.
"Hold on you got to give the raven some more time, maybe he's just making sure he's chosen the right plan of action." One of his veteran female sergeants pleaded.
"Side tracked my foot if that bastard, what's his name?" The lieutenant started.
"Edge, sir" the sergeant replied
"Right, Edge is probably smoking a god-damned cigarette again. McHale, Get on his com and tell him to move in now, or he could forget about his thirty- thousand." The lieutenant shrieked.
Sharon McHale, The middle-aged sergeant, snapped to attention and punched in some commands into her MT and was quickly able to establish communications with the mercenary.
"Edge, this Sergeant McHale, do you copy?" she called into her head mounted microphone.
"Edge here, go ahead." A grizzly voice replied back.
"You've been ordered by the lieutenant to move in immediately, the terrorists will execute a hostage in just a few minutes and there's no way we're giving into their demands. Make short work of the terrorist and try not to kill any of the hostages." McHale ordered. "I think that's simple enough for an old bastard like your self eh, Edge.?
"Let just say this, if I don't clean them out in five minutes I owe you dinner and a movie, if I can, you owe me a new pack of cigs and a forty ounce of beer." Edge said.
"Wait but I lose either way, I hate wimpy dates, and I'd have to give you something I love myself." The sergeant laughed.
"Fine, equal spoils for the lady then" Edge said, sounding somewhat surprised
"Hop to it, I like Unired regulars." Sharon ordered in a cocky manner
"God damn it, if you two don't stop flirting this instant, I'm putting a damn contract out on you Edge, and Mchale you'll get court–marshaled no matter how good your freaking record is." The lieutenant shrieked, hurting both of the pilots' ears.
"Ok, Edge you heard the man, wreak havoc or it'll be both our Asses" Mchale said seriously.
***
Edge, regrettably putting out his cigarette against the backing of his core, did a final weapons check before sprinting his AC "Scion Blade" towards the occupied warehouse. Edge had done this sort of mission many times before, so many times before that he could almost predict exactly where terrorists would place most of their forces in an industrial building, like this manufacturing warehouse, and exploit it. It was something he prided himself on but seldom bragged about. His current employer, the earth government, knew of his abilities as well.
These particular terrorists known as the Indies, from what he experienced in the past, had managed to gain decent fairly modern MT's at an alarming rate, but from what he knew from previous encounters with them, they gained inexperienced pilots along with them. Their goal: to overthrow the corrupt earth government no matter the costs. A noble goal, considering it was common knowledge that the government was largely corrupts, but a very impossible one. It had been rumored that the Indies were funded by a very wealthy corporation and Edge had been in the game long enough to know it had to be Zio Matrix, Balena, or Emerade, the three largest corporations in the all of human civilization. From his deep ranged radar, he could tell that they had at least a dozen units with them but experience told him to be on his guard for possibly more. He would have to move in now with his Scion Blade if he was going to meet his self-created, five-minute deadline.
His unit, a balanced mixture of efficient Emerade and sporty Zio Matrix parts, easily began to electronically hack through one of the warehouse side entry doors. Lucky for him he had opted for the a newer ZHD-8008/S model head with it's fifth level hacking system, otherwise the mission could have ended for him right there. As the procedure began, his sensors had already picked up on three units waiting by the double thick steel doors. "As usual they underestimate AC's, damn radicals." Edge hummed in his thoughts.
He switched over to his old trusty missile launcher and his core promptly began locking missiles on to each one of the indies' mecha. After a few automated commands transferred from his AC to the door, his computer chimed and the door opened. As the first hallway became revealed to the pilot, Edge fired a volley of missiles at his unsuspecting targets. One after another the three units crumbled from the deadly missiles and their parts lay scorched and scattered across the hallway. The pilot took his unit quickly through the hallway. Assisted by the blade's strong boosters, he leapt over the broken units and shot ahead towards the plants second door. According to his computer, this one only had a level two lock, and Edge could get through it with relative ease. After electronically opening the door, Edge walked the Scion blade onto the lift in front of him and promptly activated the lift's system to get him moving towards the bottom
"This lift should take you down into plants very own boiling rooms where all of the alloys are produced to make civilian machinery parts. Mchale lectured
"Sounds great, but don't you mean alloys for Military Armor" Edge roughly corrected.
"I can't entirely acknowledge that." She laughed
"Figures, Well, anyways I shouldn't encounter too much resistance in this area considering their cheap mecha don't have the radiating equipment or high heat thresholds to hold position here for too long" Edge stated.
"Hey you're the expert just remember, over five minutes and you're buying your own drink. You're at under four minutes left now, and counting." Mchale yelled.
Mchale was definitely right about that. There was less then four minutes left and Edge had only taken down three of the twelve terrorist units. Edge almost began to think he wouldn't make it. The lift neared its stop just a few hundred meters down. Moments from reaching his stop, the tempered solider felt something was not quite right with this operation, but he couldn't quite pinpoint what was wrong. His system diagnostics had come out entirely green, but Edge still felt that there was something very wrong. As he approached the lift's destination the air became more and more distorted from the heat in the environment. Mchale suddenly interrupted edge on the radio.
"Edge, something's up, I think the Indies might be setting up a trap, be on your guard. Sensors are known to be in areas of extreme heat." The pilot yelled with a hint of fear in her voice.
Just then the elevator stopped, it's double steel doors opening to reveal at least four walker MTs standing just a few meters from the exit point, every unit well distanced yet still creating a choke point for their target, their guns all trained directly on the scion blade.
"Shit" yelled Edge, unable to find a better word to describe his situation.
The seasoned pilot sprung into action and a shot ahead, dodging back and forth has he attacked that right most target. The weaker enemy mech pilot was a good shot, managing to tag the blade with every machine gun round his unit's rotating barrel fired. Sadly, the riddling bullets hitting his core's armored chest didn't daunt Edge much, and he continued to press on until he came within blade range of his prey. Edge quickly charged up the external blade from his unit's left arm and swung the beam through the center of the enemy cockpit. The walker exploded, shooting fire a twisted metal into air.
Not taking any time to really revel in his kill, Edge boosted backwards away from the lifeless mech, and it's still shooting comrades, to retreat further into the room. He found refuge behind one of the facilities four large boilers. Meanwhile The units turned and walked in chase of the AC. Taking advantage of the MT's slow turning ability, Edge maneuvered his Scion Blade as speedily as he could around the large boiling tank. Edge fired some shots from his unit's green semi-automatic rifle at the closer of the two center targets. The solid rounds slammed into boxy MT core, and upon connecting to the unit's power source, exploded the terrorist unit in a brilliant fire, in front of his comrade. Edge, not afraid of dueling MTs up close, flew ahead towards the center target, while remaining cautious of oncoming fire from the other walker in the room. Edge's prey, obviously disturbed from the two lost comrades near him, fired furiously. His shots, misdirected and unfocused, flew just meters above the oncoming AC. Quickly, that pilot's life ended too, as fast as Edge sliced his MT's core open with his yellow plasma blade. The core laid split like a hair, its two sides still burning fresh along it's formerly joined middle.
The last unit remaining in the room, with all of it's comrades dead, ran as fast as it's reverse jointed legs would carry it towards the back of the room. Edge quickly spun his AC around towards the retreating and still firing mech. Escape was very futile for his target, yet he admired the man's resilience to live. Sadly, he couldn't let him. Edge promptly locked his rifle on the retreating target, and fired. Four shots to the MT's core were enough to pierce through the light armor, explode the generator, and effectively silence the walker.
A few sweat drops, seeping from Edge's forehead, trickled down his face onto the pilot's padded black flight suit. He wouldn't want to admit it, but that engagement had spooked him. As he whipped some of the sweat from his drenched eyebrows, he received a friendly call, from the sergeant.
"Edge, you ok, you seem to be sweating, the kitchen too much for you, or the deadline." Sharon asked warmly
"I'm fine, That's just the environment getting to me. I don't need you baby- sitting me" He replied, sensing that the government pilot was mocking him.
"Good to know I don't have a baby to sit. You should be glad to know you have two minutes and forty-three seconds to dispatch the terrorists before I win our little bet." Sharon hummed.
"Ya, mind giving me a push?" Edge asked annoyed.
"That's what I get paid for. Um, The remaining terrorists should be five floors above your current position. Satellite shows them to be holed up in the assembly area. The lift you need should be to the east. Don't let me down." Sharon replied.
After a moment's rest, the pilot once again took control of Scion Blade, and boosted the AC along the large space between the boiling tanks, towards the east wall of the room. Scanning along the wall with his eyes, he spotted the lift Sharon mentioned near the tank in the far right of the room. He quickly set his AC onto the large lift and engaged it, setting the platform for the assembly level. The lift hummed as it ascended the facility.
"Not much time left." Edge thought safely within his sweat soaked pilot seat.
"Ok, well those four mt's, plus the three in the hallway mean I've taken out seven. The last five, which probably include the leader, are in the assembly area. That doesn't account for personnel, but this shouldn't be two hard." He continued thinking.
From a quick scan of radar, Edge noticed that his scanner showed all of the units, five has he figured, to be on the same floor. His radar though wasn't reading their relative distances from each other. Edge however, trusted his experience over technology and decided to figure it out for himself.
"Now if I were them I would probably have the personnel in the room guard the hostage with assistance from one MT while everyone else guards the entry points. That means there are two guarding each door, but since they know I'm coming this way…"
Caught directly in the middle of his thoughts, Edge found himself seconds from another enemy encounter. The pilot dropped his thoughts for a moment and sprung into action. Quickly, he deployed missile decoys from his core's inside compartment and distanced himself away from the floating objects. Sadly though he knew he probably wouldn't get away from this encounter has the door sprung open, revealing three slightly large MT's but still of the walker variety with green disc shaped core's. The fourth core was nowhere in plain sight, but that was the furthest thing from his mind has six missiles launched toward him.
(Flashy opening music in back ground) Voice Actress of Sharon- Things look bad for the AC tactical specialist, Edge. Will he be able to walk away from this encounter unscathed. And better yet will he win his bet with Sharon with just a minute left. Better yet, will the fic author be able to come out with another update in a week or be two month's late as usual. All of these questions and more will be answered when we see: A high stakes game Deck Two: Broken Dreams from a Long forgotten soul (working title)
In an region where the ground is constantly shifting and sand is always concealing what is before you, dark individuals can easily do their business. This is where people like terrorist, criminals, and wanderers thrive to
Anyways AC is owned by From software. They own the core's I own the characters and with out further a due. A story
Deck One: Deadline
"Alright we're giving him just five more minutes." An uneasy Lieutenant Chaltu yelled to his subordinates around him. The lieutenant along with his small military force of light walker assault MT's from the Neo Isaac bureau waited anxiously near a small manufacturing plant on the edge of the massive city. A terrorist group had taken over the building just five hours ago, asking for release of one of their main leaders, Edwin Paulson. Negotiations have slowly deteriorated and in the previous hour the group stated they would kill one of their hostages every hour. By Chaltu's account. There were only about ten minutes until they would kill the first. The air in that part of the city had become very still and a deaf silence had begun to set in along the area.
"Hold on you got to give the raven some more time, maybe he's just making sure he's chosen the right plan of action." One of his veteran female sergeants pleaded.
"Side tracked my foot if that bastard, what's his name?" The lieutenant started.
"Edge, sir" the sergeant replied
"Right, Edge is probably smoking a god-damned cigarette again. McHale, Get on his com and tell him to move in now, or he could forget about his thirty- thousand." The lieutenant shrieked.
Sharon McHale, The middle-aged sergeant, snapped to attention and punched in some commands into her MT and was quickly able to establish communications with the mercenary.
"Edge, this Sergeant McHale, do you copy?" she called into her head mounted microphone.
"Edge here, go ahead." A grizzly voice replied back.
"You've been ordered by the lieutenant to move in immediately, the terrorists will execute a hostage in just a few minutes and there's no way we're giving into their demands. Make short work of the terrorist and try not to kill any of the hostages." McHale ordered. "I think that's simple enough for an old bastard like your self eh, Edge.?
"Let just say this, if I don't clean them out in five minutes I owe you dinner and a movie, if I can, you owe me a new pack of cigs and a forty ounce of beer." Edge said.
"Wait but I lose either way, I hate wimpy dates, and I'd have to give you something I love myself." The sergeant laughed.
"Fine, equal spoils for the lady then" Edge said, sounding somewhat surprised
"Hop to it, I like Unired regulars." Sharon ordered in a cocky manner
"God damn it, if you two don't stop flirting this instant, I'm putting a damn contract out on you Edge, and Mchale you'll get court–marshaled no matter how good your freaking record is." The lieutenant shrieked, hurting both of the pilots' ears.
"Ok, Edge you heard the man, wreak havoc or it'll be both our Asses" Mchale said seriously.
***
Edge, regrettably putting out his cigarette against the backing of his core, did a final weapons check before sprinting his AC "Scion Blade" towards the occupied warehouse. Edge had done this sort of mission many times before, so many times before that he could almost predict exactly where terrorists would place most of their forces in an industrial building, like this manufacturing warehouse, and exploit it. It was something he prided himself on but seldom bragged about. His current employer, the earth government, knew of his abilities as well.
These particular terrorists known as the Indies, from what he experienced in the past, had managed to gain decent fairly modern MT's at an alarming rate, but from what he knew from previous encounters with them, they gained inexperienced pilots along with them. Their goal: to overthrow the corrupt earth government no matter the costs. A noble goal, considering it was common knowledge that the government was largely corrupts, but a very impossible one. It had been rumored that the Indies were funded by a very wealthy corporation and Edge had been in the game long enough to know it had to be Zio Matrix, Balena, or Emerade, the three largest corporations in the all of human civilization. From his deep ranged radar, he could tell that they had at least a dozen units with them but experience told him to be on his guard for possibly more. He would have to move in now with his Scion Blade if he was going to meet his self-created, five-minute deadline.
His unit, a balanced mixture of efficient Emerade and sporty Zio Matrix parts, easily began to electronically hack through one of the warehouse side entry doors. Lucky for him he had opted for the a newer ZHD-8008/S model head with it's fifth level hacking system, otherwise the mission could have ended for him right there. As the procedure began, his sensors had already picked up on three units waiting by the double thick steel doors. "As usual they underestimate AC's, damn radicals." Edge hummed in his thoughts.
He switched over to his old trusty missile launcher and his core promptly began locking missiles on to each one of the indies' mecha. After a few automated commands transferred from his AC to the door, his computer chimed and the door opened. As the first hallway became revealed to the pilot, Edge fired a volley of missiles at his unsuspecting targets. One after another the three units crumbled from the deadly missiles and their parts lay scorched and scattered across the hallway. The pilot took his unit quickly through the hallway. Assisted by the blade's strong boosters, he leapt over the broken units and shot ahead towards the plants second door. According to his computer, this one only had a level two lock, and Edge could get through it with relative ease. After electronically opening the door, Edge walked the Scion blade onto the lift in front of him and promptly activated the lift's system to get him moving towards the bottom
"This lift should take you down into plants very own boiling rooms where all of the alloys are produced to make civilian machinery parts. Mchale lectured
"Sounds great, but don't you mean alloys for Military Armor" Edge roughly corrected.
"I can't entirely acknowledge that." She laughed
"Figures, Well, anyways I shouldn't encounter too much resistance in this area considering their cheap mecha don't have the radiating equipment or high heat thresholds to hold position here for too long" Edge stated.
"Hey you're the expert just remember, over five minutes and you're buying your own drink. You're at under four minutes left now, and counting." Mchale yelled.
Mchale was definitely right about that. There was less then four minutes left and Edge had only taken down three of the twelve terrorist units. Edge almost began to think he wouldn't make it. The lift neared its stop just a few hundred meters down. Moments from reaching his stop, the tempered solider felt something was not quite right with this operation, but he couldn't quite pinpoint what was wrong. His system diagnostics had come out entirely green, but Edge still felt that there was something very wrong. As he approached the lift's destination the air became more and more distorted from the heat in the environment. Mchale suddenly interrupted edge on the radio.
"Edge, something's up, I think the Indies might be setting up a trap, be on your guard. Sensors are known to be in areas of extreme heat." The pilot yelled with a hint of fear in her voice.
Just then the elevator stopped, it's double steel doors opening to reveal at least four walker MTs standing just a few meters from the exit point, every unit well distanced yet still creating a choke point for their target, their guns all trained directly on the scion blade.
"Shit" yelled Edge, unable to find a better word to describe his situation.
The seasoned pilot sprung into action and a shot ahead, dodging back and forth has he attacked that right most target. The weaker enemy mech pilot was a good shot, managing to tag the blade with every machine gun round his unit's rotating barrel fired. Sadly, the riddling bullets hitting his core's armored chest didn't daunt Edge much, and he continued to press on until he came within blade range of his prey. Edge quickly charged up the external blade from his unit's left arm and swung the beam through the center of the enemy cockpit. The walker exploded, shooting fire a twisted metal into air.
Not taking any time to really revel in his kill, Edge boosted backwards away from the lifeless mech, and it's still shooting comrades, to retreat further into the room. He found refuge behind one of the facilities four large boilers. Meanwhile The units turned and walked in chase of the AC. Taking advantage of the MT's slow turning ability, Edge maneuvered his Scion Blade as speedily as he could around the large boiling tank. Edge fired some shots from his unit's green semi-automatic rifle at the closer of the two center targets. The solid rounds slammed into boxy MT core, and upon connecting to the unit's power source, exploded the terrorist unit in a brilliant fire, in front of his comrade. Edge, not afraid of dueling MTs up close, flew ahead towards the center target, while remaining cautious of oncoming fire from the other walker in the room. Edge's prey, obviously disturbed from the two lost comrades near him, fired furiously. His shots, misdirected and unfocused, flew just meters above the oncoming AC. Quickly, that pilot's life ended too, as fast as Edge sliced his MT's core open with his yellow plasma blade. The core laid split like a hair, its two sides still burning fresh along it's formerly joined middle.
The last unit remaining in the room, with all of it's comrades dead, ran as fast as it's reverse jointed legs would carry it towards the back of the room. Edge quickly spun his AC around towards the retreating and still firing mech. Escape was very futile for his target, yet he admired the man's resilience to live. Sadly, he couldn't let him. Edge promptly locked his rifle on the retreating target, and fired. Four shots to the MT's core were enough to pierce through the light armor, explode the generator, and effectively silence the walker.
A few sweat drops, seeping from Edge's forehead, trickled down his face onto the pilot's padded black flight suit. He wouldn't want to admit it, but that engagement had spooked him. As he whipped some of the sweat from his drenched eyebrows, he received a friendly call, from the sergeant.
"Edge, you ok, you seem to be sweating, the kitchen too much for you, or the deadline." Sharon asked warmly
"I'm fine, That's just the environment getting to me. I don't need you baby- sitting me" He replied, sensing that the government pilot was mocking him.
"Good to know I don't have a baby to sit. You should be glad to know you have two minutes and forty-three seconds to dispatch the terrorists before I win our little bet." Sharon hummed.
"Ya, mind giving me a push?" Edge asked annoyed.
"That's what I get paid for. Um, The remaining terrorists should be five floors above your current position. Satellite shows them to be holed up in the assembly area. The lift you need should be to the east. Don't let me down." Sharon replied.
After a moment's rest, the pilot once again took control of Scion Blade, and boosted the AC along the large space between the boiling tanks, towards the east wall of the room. Scanning along the wall with his eyes, he spotted the lift Sharon mentioned near the tank in the far right of the room. He quickly set his AC onto the large lift and engaged it, setting the platform for the assembly level. The lift hummed as it ascended the facility.
"Not much time left." Edge thought safely within his sweat soaked pilot seat.
"Ok, well those four mt's, plus the three in the hallway mean I've taken out seven. The last five, which probably include the leader, are in the assembly area. That doesn't account for personnel, but this shouldn't be two hard." He continued thinking.
From a quick scan of radar, Edge noticed that his scanner showed all of the units, five has he figured, to be on the same floor. His radar though wasn't reading their relative distances from each other. Edge however, trusted his experience over technology and decided to figure it out for himself.
"Now if I were them I would probably have the personnel in the room guard the hostage with assistance from one MT while everyone else guards the entry points. That means there are two guarding each door, but since they know I'm coming this way…"
Caught directly in the middle of his thoughts, Edge found himself seconds from another enemy encounter. The pilot dropped his thoughts for a moment and sprung into action. Quickly, he deployed missile decoys from his core's inside compartment and distanced himself away from the floating objects. Sadly though he knew he probably wouldn't get away from this encounter has the door sprung open, revealing three slightly large MT's but still of the walker variety with green disc shaped core's. The fourth core was nowhere in plain sight, but that was the furthest thing from his mind has six missiles launched toward him.
(Flashy opening music in back ground) Voice Actress of Sharon- Things look bad for the AC tactical specialist, Edge. Will he be able to walk away from this encounter unscathed. And better yet will he win his bet with Sharon with just a minute left. Better yet, will the fic author be able to come out with another update in a week or be two month's late as usual. All of these questions and more will be answered when we see: A high stakes game Deck Two: Broken Dreams from a Long forgotten soul (working title)
In an region where the ground is constantly shifting and sand is always concealing what is before you, dark individuals can easily do their business. This is where people like terrorist, criminals, and wanderers thrive to