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Banished

 
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borgrel
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Joined: 20 Aug 2008
Posts: 879

PostPosted: Sun Jun 20, 2010 9:58 am    Post subject: Banished Reply with quote

As the dust cleared after his arrival, he looked around at the dead, brown vista and up at the striated purple clouds to make sure he was on the right planet. Satisfied, he wiggled the limbs of his mek and visually inspected the mess of cables surrounding him to ensure none of them had been knocked lose by the bumpy deployment.

One of these monsters normally had five controllers seated in the cockpit but technically only two were needed for piloting and shooting, the other three operated special control boards that had various useful purposes, like optimizing the shield regeneration. He had jerry-rigged the controls from the nav-term to the tac-term so that he could do both tasks himself.

Looking at his tactical terminal's radar display, he glanced out the porthole at the other vehicle he had brought along - a Hermes crewed by a trained team he had borrowed from a friend. Just a few more weeks, he prayed silently to himself. It had become his personal mantra since he got kicked out by the administrator, for trade violations no less. Him! Violating trade regulations... Ludicrous! This time, however, he actually believed himself.

After spending his entire fortune as well as three years of permanent pain and nausea, he had just returned with a new face, a new bio-sig, new finger prints and a new retinal pattern. He had had to forge the DNA papers but that had been simple enough. Now he would remake his fortune and laugh at the unknowing administrator while he did it.

The plan was simple: collect a enough 'large refineries' from the bandits here and then he'll have his own mining base and a way back into the market. Then it would just be a case of applying his genius.

He took off in search of a bandit base with a large refinery he could pinch. His Katana sped off, shielding the Hermes that followed close, from the score of bandits they ran past in their search. Eventually finding such a base he popped all the defenders because the Hermes is really fragile and moved in to kill the buildings.

There was an alarm from his terminal and he looked down to see six extremely fast, hostile Claymores charging straight at him on the radar. He sent out an IFF squawk and got a reply that slammed his stomach into his knees - Space Monkeys - 'but Frizz doesn't deploy!' he thought stupidly.

The Claymores came to a stop in a line ahead of him and launched a full bevy of missiles, he closed his eyes as the angry red streaks of missile flight paths converged on his and cringed as he heard the screams of the Hermes crew as their mek exploded. The Katana shuddered under the assault of multiple explosions, his hands moving to keep the vehicle upright of their own accord.

He opened his eyes in the ensuing silence to see what death looked like and frown at the cockpit around him, still blue tinted from the encircling statically charged shield. Confused he looked at the combat report on the tac-term he saw that the missiles where only applying 3 kilo kineto-tonnes of force to the shields. 'Claymore missiles should be doing about four times that much...', he wondered aloud as he read the report more thoroughly. He finally understood, energy web missiles.

Even though he couldn't understand how someone like Frizz could make such a stupid error, he wouldn't let the fact that he was still alive pass him by, even at such low levels of damage 10 Claymores could still chew him up rather neatly so he jerked the Katana into motion, based on the speed they approached at he couldn't outrun them but he didn't need to. He just needed to buy some time, he showed his teeth to the pursuing Claymores as he removed the safety cover from the switch for the emergency evacuation transponder.

Click. Beep. Error, unable to initiate.
He squinted at the message in confusion, he'd never seen that before. It wasn't in the manuals and he had never heard of anyone getting that message before.
Click. Beep. Error, unable to initiate.
He ground his teeth.

Click. Click. Click.
Beee-eeeeeep.
Error, unable to initiate.
Error, unable to initiate.
Error, unable to initiate.

He screamed in frustration and pounded the terminal angrily. He sucked in a wrenching breath, with his fist raised for another smash, as realization hit him. Not ordinary energy web missiles then. Well he finally understood why such seemingly useless weapons were available, they were the stripped down version of something far more lethal.

If he couldn't flee he would have to fight, it would be rather tough but he was sure he could destroy them. Turning the mek around with one hand he designated one of them as a target with the other. As the computer analyzed the target in greater detail, he hopped up and stumbled to another terminal as another volley of missiles shook the frame of his poor Katana. Tapping a few keys from the wrong side of the terminal he fed additional reactor power into the shields, temporarily replenishing them. He flicked another few switches to harden the shields for a short while. In normal circumstances such an option was useless but with the energy web missiles doing applying so little harmful force it would buy him a great deal of time.

He slid back into his seat as he pushed the fire button, and swore as his weapons' fire missed by miles. The energy webs were preventing his stabilizing gyros from allowing accurate fire while moving. He swore not because they missed but because he knew they would and if he wasn't trying to operate 3 terminals solo he wouldn't have made that mistake.

Standing still he watched he anxiously watched the weapon capacitors charge up as the Claymores he wasn't targeting moved to encircle him. The green bolts of thunder flashed out and danced around the Claymore for a moment, turning everything beautifully sky-blue for a moment as the shields crackled under the onslaught. Looking at the report he estimated 2 more hits kill his target, by then his shield hardening would be wearing out, so he'd have to ply chicken for a little while till the reactor built up enough extra charge to let him repeat it. This was going to be a long drawn out fight, he thought; hoping the Claymores would run out of missiles.

The thunder from his energy cannons flashed out and his Katana's frame shuddered under the missile impacts, he smiled seeing the black scorch marks where his weapons hit the unit. One more shot and that Claymore is toast he thought as an alarm sounded - 'teleport aperture detected' He gulped as his Katana was suddenly in shade. There were two units that could teleport in battle conditions but only one of them was that insanely huge. He stared over his shoulder into the gaping maw of an energy cannon bigger than his entire unit, Spellbreakers are rather imposing. He could distantly hear himself screaming as he watched the firing sequence trigger in the back of the weapon.

He watched power arcs dance hypnotically as the glow inside the cannon grew brighter and brighter. The firing sequence which takes less than a second lasted for years and he just sat there staring. Frizz had completely out maneuvered him, there was nothing he COULD do.

The well aimed blasts ripped the legs and weapons off the Katana but left the cockpit mostly intact. He lay on the floor; bruised, bleeding and squinting his eyes at the auditory storm currently assaulting his delicate throbbing skull. The worst siren of all for any mek pilot was playing a merry ta-too behind his eyes and that was the 'cabin pressure loss' claxxon.

He wondered as he lay there: "what would kill him first?", he couldn't decide between poisoning from inhalation of unfriendly atmosphere, the bends from the rapidly dropping pressure or plain and simple asphyxiation since he was running out of oxygen.

As his vision narrowed and darkened he heard from the Spellbreaker's loud speaker: "You are not welcome in this system" It was almost a benediction.
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