Location - Alabaster 3 - A few miles from the ore mines.
February 19th - 3049
The ground quivered beneath the weighty footsteps of the Atlas, moving forward with deliberate and controlled strides. On his left, the Catapult plodded along, its head swaying methodically, scanning for potential threats. At his twelve, Fox and Samurai, piloting their Commandos, skillfully scouted the path ahead.
Rhyan's gaze fixated on the tactical display, revealing the canyon leading to the ore mining facility. It was an ideal spot for an ambush. He keyed his comms.
"Fox, this is Raptor. Report on your position. Over."
"Raptor, this is Fox. Currently at grid 327, heading northeast. Closing on the canyon. No visual on pirate activity yet. Over."
"Copy, Fox. Stay vigilant. We don't want any surprises. Keep me posted. Over."
"Raptor, this is Fox. Will do. Moving deeper into the sector. Fox out."
The radio fell silent as Rhyan focused on the mission. He manually adjusted the targeting scanner, aiming it at the canyon entrance ahead.
"Contact bearing 234. I count a lance worth of mechs, using jumpjets to move through the forest and canyon ahead."
Fox's report, swiftly confirmed by Samurai, appeared on Rhyan's radar display seconds before the computer identified the four enemy mechs.
"All elements, confirm targeting of enemy lance, sector 3, 5, 6, and 9," Rhyan commanded over the microphone. An Enforcer, a Blackjack, a Warhammer, and a Wolfhound— one heavy, three mediums.
"Fox, confirm."
"Samurai, confirm."
"Ace, confirm, request permission to open fire."
"All elements hold fire; we proceed until we know they are ho—"
Rhyan's transmission was abruptly cut short as the Blackjack unleashed its autocannons towards Samurai. The Pirate pilot's inexperience was evident in the distance and speed of 'Samurai,' prompting Rhyan to shake his head in disbelief.
"All Elements, fire at will. Bring them down."
The Atlas lumbered forth, its colossal presence causing intermittent panic among the pirates who sporadically fired their weapons in a futile attempt against its massive armored frame. To Rhyan's right, Fox and Samurai engaged in a dynamic dance of evasion with the Enforcer, a game of duck and cover where the pirates had the upper hand in terms of range.
Meanwhile, Ace maintained her deliberate pace, methodically covering Rhyan's rear. Her dual particle projection cannons unleashed controlled bursts with each step, gradually accumulating excess heat.
"Ace, I'm leaving you to go hunting... Watch your six. I have no bearing on the Wolfhound."
"Go on, sugar, I've got this,"
Ace replied with confidence, her voice steady and composed amidst the battle. Rhyan acknowledged her assurance, trusting in her skills as he pivoted the Atlas towards the ongoing skirmish, determined to close the gap and tip the scales in favor of the Raptors.
Rhyan's focus honed in on the Warhammer, wedged between the mountain walls just ahead, positioned perfectly at the edge of its armory. The sly grin on Rhyan's face betrayed his anticipation.
"Try to hide, Pirate," Rhyan muttered, his voice laced with a mix of challenge and amusement. He deftly flicked a switch on his controls, cycling through his array of weapons.
'Long-range missiles activated,' the computerized voice resonated in his ears, and Samurai swiftly confirmed the lock, acting as a vigilant spotter from her strategic vantage point.
In the echoes of ancient Terra, a saying lingered in Rhyan's thoughts: 'When the arrows number such it blocks the sun, then we fight in the shade.' He pondered whether the pirate piloting the Warhammer harbored similar sentiments just as he initiated the launch sequence.
The air darkened as plumes of smoke streaked from the missile ramps, tearing through the sky in a awesome display. A myriad of explosions erupted, a spectacle that painted the heavens. Some missiles missed their mark, but others found their mark against the armor of the Warhammer, which hastily sought refuge in the protective cover of the canyon.
Fox always found herself at ease in the cockpit of her Commando. Throughout most of her career as a MechWarrior, she had sat in the familiar confines of this agile machine. The Commando relied on speed more than armor, offering agility and a decent punch that matched its efficient heatsinks, ensuring that temperature rarely became overwhelming.
As she navigated the controls, Fox directed Samurai to the left of the two canyons ahead while she ventured into the right one. Somewhere within the labyrinthine canyons, the Enforcer lurked, and Fox knew she would have to rely on her speed and piloting skills. Outgunned and outweighed, she embraced the challenge with the confidence of a seasoned MechWarrior
The tactical display revealed the Enforcer just ahead, positioned beyond the next bend in the canyon. The blip of the Enforcer flickered intermittently on the display, either due to a glitch or the fact that its engines were momentarily idle. Fox rocked back and forth in her cockpit, feeling the tremors as the mech tore up the ground beneath it while advancing.
She toggled her guns, cycling through them with a quick and practiced hand. Checking the green lights, Fox activated the self-loading mechanism for her twin short-range missile systems. Prepared and focused, she braced herself for the impending confrontation with the Enforcer, determined to make every shot count in the uneven match-up.
'Drek!' Fox cursed as the engine of the Enforcer flared up just as she passed the bend. Plumes of dust marked its leap into the air with its jump packs. The canyon was too tight for her to execute a full one-eighty, and she berated herself as the Enforcer locked onto her mech, sailing above and beyond her. In less than a second, she went from being the hunter to the prey.
Smacking her head against the sides of the cockpit, Fox slammed her mech into the canyon wall, bouncing from side to side in an attempt to create debris and evade the incoming salvo of lasers. Just one more bend, and she would be in a small clearing of woods. On her tactical read, she saw Samurai dashing forth in the adjacent canyon, heading towards the same clearing, but she was not close enough to help at the moment.
Laser beams struck Fox in the back, melting armor and short-fusing some electrical components, causing sparks to fly in the cockpit. She tore at her controls as if the violent actions could make the mech move faster or become even more agile. More lasers melted armor in her back region, and then the boom of a heavy autocannon discharge reached her just before the explosion tore off her right arm.
The explosion jostled the whole mech, making Fox writhe like a ragdoll inside the cockpit, the violent repercussions of the enemy's assault evident in the chaos unfolding around her.
Blood filled her mouth, and the left side of her vision turned into a reddish blur as the helmet proved unable to protect her from all the damage inflicted upon her. The taste of iron lingered in her mouth, and the impaired vision added an additional layer of disorientation to the already chaotic situation within the cockpit.
"Raptor, this is Fox! I'm in trouble! I've lost my right arm, and my armor's stripped! I need immediate assistance! Over."
"Fox, hold on! I'm on my way. Samurai, converge on Fox's position. We've got to cover her. Over.
"Roger, Raptor. Moving to assist Fox."
The urgency in Fox's voice echoed through the radio, setting a swift and focused response into motion. Rhyan's Atlas shifted in her direction, charging forth to handle the Warhammer before it too could target his wife
"Fox, give me your exact coordinates. Samurai is coming for you. Over."
"Raptor, this is Fox. Coordinates are 245 by 189. Hurry! They're closing in! Over."
"She's almost there, Fox. Hold tight. Ace, keep an eye on our six. Samurai, prepare for a firefight. Fox, we're coming. Over."
The radio transmission ended with a determined promise, the Raptors of Thrakad mobilizing to rescue their comrade while the battle continued.
Rhyan once again unleashed a barrage of long-range missiles against the Warhammer, witnessing explosions erupt from the enemy combatant. Despite the satisfaction of striking a significant blow, the pull to aid his wife compelled him to activate the radio broadcasting on all channels as well as the external speakers.
"Warhammer Pilot, My word as bond, you are free to retreat, and doing so in a peaceful fashion will halt my fire against you."
Rhyan, a veteran of the fourth succession war and a staunch adherent to the code of honor in warfare, made this declaration. He steered his Atlas towards his wife's coordinates, the exterior speakers projecting his message across the battlefield.
In the tactical display, he observed Carol weaving and bobbing between the trees in the canyon, evading her relentless enemy. Samurai engaged from the left flank, providing support, but the Enforcer loomed large, boasting heavier firepower than both Commandos combined. Rhyan's sense of duty and honor guided him forward, ready to protect his comrades and, most importantly, his beloved wife.
As Rhyan ascended the mountainside, a searing particle beam sliced through the sky just past his shoulder, striking a tree by the canyon wall where Fox had stood only moments ago. The trees smoldered, and for a brief second, uncertainty hung in the air – the fate of Fox unknown.
Anger surged within Rhyan, fueled not only by the breach of the code of conduct but also by the audacity of the pirate to target Fox, who was attempting to retreat into the safety of the woods. The distant rage simmered within him, transforming into a relentless determination as he continued to advance, vowing to bring justice to those who dared to defy the rules of honorable warfare.
Fox's signal reappeared on Rhyan's tactical read, and without hesitation, he swirled his Atlas, the massive form lumbering in the direction of the Warhammer once more. The heatsinks of his mech hissed, struggling to dissipate the intense heat generated as Rhyan continuously pressed the firing solution in the direction of the Warhammer. Each shot was a manifestation of his determination to avenge the unwarranted attack on his wife and uphold the principles of honor on the battlefield. The relentless barrage of firepower sought to bring an end to the pirate's defiance and protect the Raptors of Thrakad. The warhammer seemed to realise it's end was closing and took flight.
The heat in the cockpit reached near-critical levels, and beads of sweat dripped into Rhyan's eyes as he unleashed a final volley against the Warhammer's retreating form. The comm channels buzzed with urgency, both Samurai and Fox frantic in their efforts to coordinate against the relentless enemy.
On the tactical display, Rhyan observed Ace's predicament as she skillfully maneuvered her heavy mech, trying to avoid showing her vulnerable back to the smaller, circling adversary. A critical decision loomed, and in that decisive moment, Rhyan chose to prioritize the safety of Fox and Samurai, trusting that Ace, true to her callsign, could handle her own.
The Atlas, though battling the encroaching heat and the strain on its systems, altered its course. Rhyan set a determined course towards the beleaguered comrades, ready to intervene and alter the tide of the battle in favor of the Raptors. The battlefield echoed with the din of metal and the urgency of a mercenary in the crucible of combat.
In Rhyan's tactical display, the unfolding battlefield drama played out before him. Fox, running through the dense woods, was pursued by the relentless Enforcer. As the nimble commando maneuvered through the trees, Samurai executed a flanking maneuver, circling around a rocky outcrop to position herself strategically.
Meanwhile, Rhyan's towering Atlas moved with purpose, closing in on the unfolding skirmish. The cacophony of the dense forest and the clashing sounds of metal created a chaotic symphony around him. Each of the Raptors, playing a crucial role, were a synchronized force, their movements coordinated to outmaneuver and overcome their adversaries.
Fox knew she was in trouble; electrical sparks bled out from the socket where her mech's right arm had been attached. One of the missile pods, one of the lasers, and the flamer blinked angrily red on her tactical HUD, displaying the error code 'offline' in bold letters beside each of the weapons. More than half of her weapons were destroyed, leaving her mech a vulnerable husk dashing forth between the trees. Luck had ensured that each of the laser beams failed to strike the same place more than once, providing a small respite amid the chaos. Yet a small respite it was, for another hit and she knew she would not see another sunrise, and never embrace her husband again.
She felt the tremors of the larger mech dashing behind her; true, it was not as fast, but it had jump jets and could maneuver in a way she couldn't. Fear started to grip hold of her, but she bit back the tears, offering thanks to her diligence. She knew Ulrika would deliver the letter she had prepared if the worst came to be, ensuring that Rhyan would know he was with her in the end.
Another massive autocannon projectile tore up the landscape behind her, and her cockpit blackened out for a second as a particle beam sliced right past her. She activated her radio, only to hear static, prompting her to study her internal instruments once more. Another few lines of red blinked on the screen, including her marker and radio systems. The odds were stacked against her, but the fighting spirit within Fox refused to waver, she was a member of the Raptors.
Suddenly, a massive shadow covered her cockpit as she weaved between the trees. In an instant, a wall appeared before her, but where granite was supposed to be, a dark blue duralex heavy special alloy stood. She tilted her cockpit upwards along the massive bulk of an Atlas just as it fired its 203-millimeter diameter autocannon. The force of the cannon made her smaller mech reel backward as much as her quick action of slamming the reverse to avoid a full-on collision.
The Atlas, Rhyan's imposing machine, loomed protectively over Fox, shielding her from the firepower of their common adversary. There was no synchronized dance of the mechs in the confined space of the canyon; instead, the Atlas let out a roaring trumpet horn as smoke rose from the barrel of its autocannon.
Fox circled around, only to find the Enforcer standing still, in near-perfect condition save for a smoldering hole where the cockpit had once been located. A red rooster was emblazoned upon the Enforcer's left chest plate, and a grinning skull adorned its right.
"All Elements, this is Ace..Enemy forces in wild retreat, we stand victorious."
"This is Raptor, belay that, we press on and we press through!"