Breaking Point

[Krayzikk]

IC:

 

"I don't think the list needs my help."

[shadow pridak money gang]

IC:

 

"No, but it could use a crown jewel!"

 

-Tyler

Edited May 9, 2016 by Key and

[Krayzikk]

IC:

"You're such a flatterer." Ayane admonished, though the faint smile on her face really undercut the severity of it. She squeezed the Horizon pilot's shoulder tightly, turning her attention back to the Munequita. "So how's she handle, flatterer?"

[shadow pridak money gang]

IC:

 

"Mmmmm. Like a dream." Nadia sounded contented as ever and wrapped her neck around the slim neck of her Japanese quasi-girlfriend's. "Faster than any Warrior and more responsive than any Scout, don't let nobody tell you different for a second. She's a good girl. Always listens to her mama."

 

-Tyler

[Krayzikk]

IC:

"How're the weapons?"

[shadow pridak money gang]

IC:

 

"They work. I wish I had something with a little more oomph than Sidewinders, and there aren't enough AMRAAMs to make up for a missile that's over a century old. But I wouldn't be happy unless I had as many missiles as most Gunners, so take that with a grain of salt." She grinned impishly. "Heat-powered axes, though. They fold up into the wings during the transformation sequence. So frickin' cool."

 

-Tyler

[Krayzikk]

IC:

"Not quite enough firepower for my tastes." The Japanese pilot said thoughtfully, eyeing the modified FAW-22 in front of her and circling it deliberately. "Familiar with the specs, though. Love the speed bump. Maneuverability too. If it could carry a few more weapons it'd pretty much be perfect."

 

"That's coming from the tin can pilot, though. You could cut out the transformation entirely, slap on the Ronin's weapons and I'd call it a success."

[shadow pridak money gang]

IC:

 

"Sounds like you should requisition a Scout and put some meat on its bones, then," Nadia suggested playfully. "Babydoll, you've never wanted to be a pilot. I sat through enough heated family dinners to know that much. And you don't aren't suicidal or reckless enough to be a Raptor pilot, remember?"

 

-Tyler

[Krayzikk]

IC:

"I never wanted to be a fighter pilot." Ayane corrected, raising up a finger in objection. "Haven't got the clout or resources to requisition a Scout. One wouldn't do the job, either. A Scout is fundamentally a Warrior, just scaled down and slapped with a dozen more thrusters. Faster, yes, but incrementally. And that speed comes at the cost of armor and the ability to handle anything with a decent amount of firepower. Read some fascinating papers on proposed uses of the Raptor frame, it's much better suited to a next-gen assault Walker."

 

A pause.

 

"I did a lot of reading while you were gone. Warrior just didn't seem to cut it anymore."

[shadow pridak money gang]

IC: 

 

"Yeah, well...you might not be too far off."

 

Nadia reached up and grabbed one of the wings of Munequita with a sudden lack of enthusiasm.

 

"I don't think the proof-of-concept proved very much."

 

-Tyler

[Krayzikk]

IC:

"I'd say it proved quite a bit. You had a bad case of Raptor on Raptor violence, but they performed pretty well."

[shadow pridak money gang]

IC:

 

"Against rebels. I don't wanna fight rebels."

 

-Tyler

[Krayzikk]

IC:

"Opponents are opponents. You beat the rebels. Pretty handily, too. And then you took losses against the Union." Ayane held up a finger again, this time to cut off any objections or interruptions. "Which everyone did. Raptors got hit hard, but that's because they were a tactical edge. You guys didn't lose more than anyone else, by the numbers, there were just fewer of you to begin with."

"Buck up."

[shadow pridak money gang]

IC:

 

Nadia stared long and hard at the Far East Brigade veteran.

 

And then poked her in the nose irritably.

 

"Fine. But when they mothball the Raptors in a few months and I'm stuck as chief of Ronin's pit crew again, your side of the bed will be distinctly cuddle-less."

 

-Tyler

Edited May 10, 2016 by Key and

[NorikSigma]

IC: Hassan

 

Leaving Brightbridge and Maigo to continue with their conversation, the pilot turned to walk back to the mess hall.

Edited May 10, 2016 by Norik Apple Juice

[Krayzikk]

IC:

"That'd just be normal, after the past few years."

[shadow pridak money gang]

IC:

 

"No mas, mi puta."

 

-Tyler

[Krayzikk]

IC:

"I suspected you'd say something like that."

[shadow pridak money gang]

IC:

 

"Me llamo es El Niño. I am as predictable as I am unexpected, and I bring hotness wherever I land."

 

-Tyler

Edited May 16, 2016 by Key and

[25K Now!]

IC: October M. Brightbridge

 

"Do you not notice the feet?"

 

Extending out, her arm, gesturing upon the mighty limbs of the grand titan with refined vigour.

[Krayzikk]

IC:

"Looks like you've picked up a few more eccentricities, too."

Edited May 17, 2016 by Peele

[shadow pridak money gang]

IC:

 

"Oh, you don't even know! They drive on a different side of the road here - well, for you, anyway, for me it was kind of like riding a bike again, except...with a...car...you know what? I probably can't explain all the cool stuff about Horizon. You just have to watch and absorb."

 

-Tyler

[Krayzikk]

IC:

"There is only one proper side of the road. Anyone failing to follow it shall be forced to move."

[shadow pridak money gang]

IC:

 

Nadia giggled and led her counterpart away from Horizon's last, most voluptuous Raptor. They could go back to the mess hall, and the Somali-Canadian jockey still had a suspicion that the Japanese harpy beside her still planned on making her lie down in the med bay again if she had the chance, but she wasn't quite sure if now was the time to be leaving the base.

 

As much as she would love to just get to the balcony of her apartment and crash...

 

"There's not as much takeout as there is in Tokyo, though."

 

-Tyler

Edited May 20, 2016 by Key and

[Krayzikk]

IC:

"Well, yeah. Tokyo was a large city." Ayane pointed out, taking hold of her Horizon counterpart's hand and giving it a quick squeeze. "Large and dense. Lots of places for takeout establishments to thrive. Horizon's not so dense. More touristy."

[NorikSigma]

IC: Natalie - Canteen

 

The Frenchwoman sat in the canteen eating a burrito.

 

IC: Hassan - Hallways of the Horizon Garrison

 

Having left the two women to their conversation, Hassan headed towards the bunks to catch some shut-eye.

 

OOC: Natalie and Hassan open for interaction.

Edited May 20, 2016 by Norik Apple Juice

[Krayzikk]

OOC: This post officially moves us ahead one week.

 

GM IC:

 

Quite a few dates have lived in infamy since the 40s. And the colonies’ thirtieth anniversary was going to be right up there. Six simultaneous attacks. Six attacks, one for each city with a Mass Driver. And to make matters worse, four of them were successful. The Ark Union had taken over four of the most strategically important sites in one blitzkrieg. The driver in Cape Canaveral stayed out of Union hands, but only because the commander of the local Federation forces chose to destroy it rather than allow it to be captured. A strategic move, at the time. Knowing what the Federation brass knew now… All it served to do was make one less facility the Federation had any chance of retaking. The local forces were routed soon after, forced out of the city and further into the continental United States.

Which made Horizon the only driver left under Federation control. The Union could land their ships with impunity and send them back into space as needed, while the Federation couldn’t afford to divert any ships to Earth from their forces in orbit. There was no guarantee they would be able to return. Things weren’t quite so clean cut in practice; the Union fleets couldn’t move in undetected like their vanguard did, so the Federation intercepted them just past the Moon. The fighting was still going, but some reinforcements had already slipped through to bolster the Union forces already on the Earth. The Federation was on the back foot. Big time. Logistically, the Federation had numbers; the Union simply couldn’t field the same amount of men and materiel the Federation could. Not with the same ease. The Union’s brass were more than a month’s travel away, which meant reinforcements from their core territory couldn’t arrive quickly. The Federation, on the other hand, could mobilize anything anywhere within their territory inside of days.

 

In theory. With only one Mass Driver, they were hamstrung. And Alayna Enfield couldn’t see any way that was ending any time soon.

It wasn’t all bad news, but finding the good was ###### hard. Without the drivers, the Federation brass were leery of committing forces already in space to bolster their presence on Earth. And they couldn’t afford to send reinforcements to space. They were fighting a war on two fronts, and not particularly well. The good news was that in the week since the first attack, Horizon had gotten plenty of support.

 

Newly installed air defenses lined the city, concentrated at the driver facility and the Federation base, and all available resources were being diverted to bolster their defenses. Additional munitions, spare parts for repairs, additional Walker units, and additional pilots to make up for the ones that had been lost. And then some. They weren’t aces, in fact a lot of them were as green as can be, but they were still pilots. Sorely needed ones. R&D was having a field day, too; the remains of the two Union Walkers taken down had been dragged inside for reverse engineering. On top of that, the brass had shipped some of their experimental toys to Horizon. Not to mention how much their budget swelled under wartime conditions. And by ‘swelled’, Alayna meant ‘virtually unlimited’. Their little eggheads practically burst in excitement.

The command structure, though… There were a lot of changes going on. Olympic’s pilots had, for the moment, been folded into the Horizon division. All the new pilots, though, meant a lot more organization was needed. And the division still didn’t have a commander. Not officially. Lt. Noah had been overseeing the Walker division for the past week, and doing incredibly well. She wouldn’t admit it. “Just keeping it warm for the old man”, she said when the Colonel spoke to her about it. The Lieutenant would be keeping it warm for longer than she wanted to admit. Major Mckinley was stable, but…

 

The Colonel shook her head. It didn’t do any good to dwell on it. Better to think about what she could do, and what she needed to do. And what she needed to do was see to getting her house in order. First things first, the Walker division needed an official head for the foreseeable future. And then she needed to give the rookies some examples to follow. That would have to be a conversation with Noah. But first she needed to locate the Lieutenant.

Shaking her head a little, bracing for the oncoming clamor, Alayna made her way down into the hangar. It had always been the noisiest part of the base, but with the new support it had become downright cacophonous. New pilots and support staff were arriving by the hour, though that had slowed down a little since the start of the week, and new equipment was arriving only a little less frequently. The sound of people, machinery, and vehicles was deafening. And in the center of all the chaos, as expected, was Lieutenant Noah. She hadn’t really left. Either the hangar or the ops center. Aside from the three hours her colleagues forced her to sleep, she’d been spending every hour in one or the other. The Colonel had to devote her time to handling everything on a large scale, how Horizon (now the single most important Federation base on the planet, barring their headquarters) fit into the war, what actions to take, what General she needed to speak with next, and without Noah she would have been swamped. McKinley had taught his deputy how to step up to the plate like a champion. Alayna would have been swamped without her.

 

“Noah!” The Colonel raised her voice to get her attention, and still had to repeat her name a few times. When the LT finally looked over her shoulder, Alayna beckoned her back towards the hall. The hangar was too loud (and too public) for this conversation. It only took a minute to find a secluded conference room, usually for briefings, to speak in.

“What can I do for you, ma’am?” Noah asked, tucking a clipboard under her arm and brushing a few stray hairs out of her eyes. “And, all due respect, but can we keep this quick? We’ve got a shipment of Warrior parts coming in, and if I don’t keep an eye on it Davis’ll put it somewhere stupid again.”

 

“I won’t keep you long.” Alayna reassured her. The Colonel crossed her arms, taking a deep breath while she thought about how to broach the subject. “Lieutenant, you’ve been handling Major McKinley’s job very well.”

 

“Just keeping his seat warm, ma’am.”

 

“You mentioned.” Another deep breath, and her voice softened.. “Noah, Patrick is my friend too. I’ve known that son of a ###### a long time, and I don’t doubt for a second that he’s going to pull through this. But… But he’s going to be down for the count a while. Someone needs to fill his shoes until then. I want you to do it. I don’t think he would want anyone else to do it.”

“...” Noah was quiet, quiet for several very long moments. Her breathing quickened, almost like she was going to cry. But McKinley wouldn’t cry. He would smile. Laugh. Shake it off. She would too. “... Yes, ma’am.”

 

“Good.” Alayna squeezed her shoulder, giving as reassuring a smile as she could. “You’ll do fine. I want you to post a notice about the additional simulators they sent us, encourage pilots to use them. They need practice. And then get some rest, Major Noah. Once you do see to promoting some of your pilots. The rookies will need people to look up to.”

 

“Yes, ma’am. I will.”

Edited June 29, 2016 by Peele

[Void Emissary]

IC:

 

Burrowed deep into the wiring of the machine as she was, Gwen and the Walker appeared as one.

 

It was a routine inspection, one that came with every new mech that had made its way into the hangers of Horizon, a simple look around to make sure that there wasn't any circuit or servo liable to send a pilot into near-Earth orbit before they were meant to ... or, as some pilots with either too little knowledge of the situation or too much would say, before the Union jockeys had a chance to do it.

 

Everything, though, seemed to be fine with this particular beauty, so Gwen crawled out of the tangle of cords and wires, pushing her goggles up off of her face.

 

OOC: Open for interaction.

 

-Void

[shadow pridak money gang]

IC:

 

When you looked at Nadia White and Inoue Ayane, it was hard to imagine them as anything but the playful couple, attached at the hip and unbreakable in their devotion. The truth is, that level of chemistry had developed entirely on accident - back in the days when Nadia Lorena was a plucky flygirl on her first Federation posting, forced to room with the achingly polite hometown girl who eschewed all of the military roles that her roommate excelled in. For four months, the two had spoken only cordially, and hardly often; Lauren only seemed to want to drag Ayane out to find things to drink that didn't exist in Canada, while Ayane was honing her talents as a Walker pilot - another source of friction between the two, and one that had taken years to properly surmount. Things only seemed to get more bleak as the two climbed ranks and Lauren assumed more and more responsibility in Tokyo. Only a night out drinking, painstakingly cajoled out of Ayane by Nadia, had managed to nip any rifts between the two in the bud. To the couple, it was known as the "Hot Sake Affair" - nine hours of small talk-turned-nightclub crawling-turned body shots, culminating in Lauren sweet talking her innocent, responsible roommate into taking her on a drunken joyride in Ayane's Ronin that violated every reg in the book.

 

The point was, Lauren was hardly good at being responsible herself.

 

But sometimes the reward was worth it.

 

...But Ayane was a girl, and as much as she loved to suggest that FAW-022 Raptors were within the purview of lesbianism, the transformable mechs were still just that - mechs. Only as sexy as the pilots inside the harness. And that was where the problems started.

 

As Horizon's last Raptor pilot (or rather, pilot of the last functional Raptor; Rick Dennehy, Dingo Two, had miraculously landed off the coast of Horizon, but his Walker had been lost and he was going to be laid up in the hospital for at least another few weeks) she had been kept in meetings for most of the night after the attack, and early in the morning after that. She'd hardly had time to move Ayane's stuff into the apartment. That, at least, had been a bright spot in her week for a while. But even the presence of Ayane at all times didn't mean much if Nadia was hardly ever at the apartment. She'd been sleeping in rec rooms (credit to Ayane, who would often occupy the same couches Lauren did out of stubbornness) thanks to the continued insistence on drills, airspace patrols, and maneuver practice.

 

Which wouldn't be so bad usually. Lauren loved to fly as much as any gal, and the increased time in a cockpit would have been like heaven for her in most other circumstances. It was something she'd lobbied McKinley for all the time. The problem was that these pilots weren't Dingo Squad - and they sure as ###### weren't Lauren White. About half of them had come off Olympic, which meant they had to be at least good enough to earn a chance at some space drills. But the other half of the city's new Raptor wing was green as leprechaun jizz. Apparently the majority of the Federation's Raptor contingents - at least, the ones that were manning mass driver locations - had fared even worse than Horizon had, and in an effort to retain safe airspace the brass had sent what remaining Walkers were fresh off the line, along with pilots who were either barely over or barely under the Raptor Program's qualifying line over the course of the last two years. If that weren't bad enough, the newbies weren't even sure they'd have a job in a few months - scuttlebutt around the base was that the Federation, aghast at all the R&D money that the Ark Union had wiped its colonist, capitalist ###### with, was strongly considering phasing out the Raptors and taking another few years to work out a "safer, more sustainable" use for a transformable frame and the manpower it took to run one. The combination of new blood getting in her way and the threat of having Munequita taken from her proved to be too much.

 

Finally, when Lauren, beer in hand, had complained to Lieutenant Noah that she could scrounge together a better flight wing herself, "with blackjack and hookers," the poor, overworked analyst had looked the jockey dead in the face and said, "Fine."

 

Long story short, she was now Lance Corporal Nadia White. Flight lead of Blackjack Squadron.

 

Sassy ######.

 

"Would you rather be the Hookers?"

 

S a s s y.

 

One of the many responsibilities of being Horizon's fight leader - a position that had few, if any, actual benefits - was assembling her squad every morning (a time period usually reserved for a grumpy, sleepy Ayane) and giving them the ol' VIP escort around the local airspace. When half of the pilots under your command were still learning the ropes of their brand spanking new Walkers, it took some of the buzz out of it, but all things considered it was still as good a way as any (or almost any) to start the day off. That, Nadia mused as she stepped down from Munequita and wiped her nose with a flourish, really was the saving grace of this whole cluster######.

 

She pulled off her helmet and changed out of her flight suit while still in the cockpit - changing instead into a more casual Federation uniform, with her trademark jacket slung on and left unzipped. Only then did the new leader of Blackjack Squadron clamber out of her Raptor and fix her helmet hair with one hand. She took a test breath and found, to her mild pleasure, that her nostrils weren't stopped up with blood this morning. That was good. Ayane had started using different shampoos in an attempt to figure out when Lauren could actually smell and when she was just covering up the symptoms of Raptor sickness. She was too clever by half, that little Imperial brat.

 

poof

 

Lauren blew on her last strand of helmet hair and then tucked it into place...looking as presentable as she ever did, and ready for another day at the office.

 

-Tyler

Edited June 5, 2016 by Key and

[NorikSigma]

IC: Gwen

IC: Hassan

 

"Hey Gwen!"

 

The Levantine pilot jogged towards the engineer, her face now covered in soot.

 

"Could you give the Jinn a once-over? I don't trust the other mechanics. The one that patched 'im up forgot to wire some, or all, of the servos. He's not walking right and big scary red screens are lighting up all over the cockpit," he shrugged helplessly.

Edited June 7, 2016 by Norik Apple Juice

[Krayzikk]

IC:

Too slow.

 

For the thousandth time in less than seven days, the Japanese pilot (formerly) of the Far East Brigade stared at a simulation and scowled. It was easily the twentieth tweak that she had attempted, altering factors in the Ronin's software or hardware to try and coax some more performance out of the first generation Warrior. It wasn't happening. Nothing she seemed to do could eke out more than a percentage point or two more in reaction time, and those generally involved alterations that would significantly increase the wear and tear the Ronin suffered during operation.

 

Which was already significant. It seemed to need more maintenance every time she sortied. The Ronin had served her well, and put up with more demands than any other Walker its age, but it was showing its age. More than a decade of service by now. It just wasn't mechanically capable of keeping up with what she needed it to. The old girl kept up with her pilot's maneuvering, miraculously, but...

 

McKinley was a much better pilot. And that Walker had taken him apart. The gray model of unknown type and unknown armament, with the sword that went through steel like butter. She needed an edge. She could (and did, whenever Lauren wasn't looking) train endlessly, but her performance was capped by how well her Walker could perform. She needed to find an edge and she couldn't figure out where it was. Where she could squeeze just a little more out of her machine, or out of her own performance. Nothing seemed to be doing the trick.

 

Ayane sighed, and switched off the monitor. Lauren would be getting back soon, and she wasn't going to bother her. The Raptor pilot was having her own problems, and she'd only try to cheer her up. Which isn't really what Ayane needed. Being in good spirits wouldn't fix her problem.

 

But it would make her feel better, so she slid down the ladder from the Ronin's cockpit and walked over to wait near the Raptor storage bays.

[Void Emissary]

IC:

 

"What? Huh?" asked Gwen, her four hours of sleep a night revealing itself. "Who... oh, hey, Gwen, it's Hassan! Hi Hassan--"

 

She blinked.

 

"Uh ... maybe we can ignore me talking to myself in third person and, y'know focus on...."

 

She scratched at the back of her head.

 

"So! The Jinn, huh! Just, uh ... just lead the way!"

 

-Void

[NorikSigma]

IC: Hassan

 

"Have you been getting enough sleep? You look more... Frazzled than usual."

 

Hassan wondered if a kebab would help things.

 

Of course it will! It's just a matter of what type it is.

[Void Emissary]

IC:

 

"I'm fiiiiiiiiiine," Gwen assured Hassan, airily waving her hand. "Sleep is for wusses, anyway. Fixing mechs is where it's at now! So, lead the way, my bro!"

 

-Void

[sunflower]

IC: Marcus [Hanger]

 

"...Are you sure that thing will even start up?"

 

Luna stared towards the mass of armor and machinery currently occupying the back corner of the hanger as she addressed the technician. Whoever had moved the Arsenal Walker from storage hadn't even bothered to completely remove the tarp that covered half of the Walker's frame. What was visible though wasn't that promising.

 

"Well, no, it's not going to start up at all, actually," The tech replied, glancing over at the pilot just in time to catch her pained expression. "Sorry, a joke." He indicated the Walker's torso, which was cracked open like a metal shellfish to reveal the internals, "It'll run perfectly fine, once it gets a reactor installed. It'll be well within nominal operating parameters, even the ones from before the brass wanted them lowered."

 

"Lowered?" Luna felt a cold sense of dread in her gut, though the tech didn't seem to notice the distress in her voice. She broke her gaze away from the partially disassembled machine to look at the technician.

 

"Just means we've skipped the fresh coat of paint in favor of making sure that the weapons actually fire," he explained.

 

"Right, makes sense."

 

Great.

 

"Here, this'll have the specification on it; I dug up all that I could on it." He handed her a pad, before turning to leave.

 

Luna couldn't shake the feeling that sticking her with the machine that had enough dust covering its frame to be visible fifty feet away was some sort of punishment for losing the Aronnax (which was honestly the gentle way of putting the melted hulk that she'd been ejected from). She stopped herself from going further, frowning at the thought. No, command wasn't petty like that, she reasoned to herself. It's just how things worked, Horizon wasn't exactly bursting with new machines, and more qualified pilots would naturally have precedent over her. She was lucky to have even got a new Walker on such short notice, without question because of the state of extreme emergency that the whole Federation must have been in at the moment.

 

Still, they did realize that her last machine was a Gunner, right? A gigantic one, at that. Even partly put together, this one couldn't be much more than half the Aronnax's size. It wasn't quite a Scout, but it might as well be.

 

It was still a few hours before she would be able to even get inside the cockpit, let alone pilot the Walker, there was little more for her to do than familiarize herself with the systems some more.

 

She'd spent the past week or so either holed up in the simulators or sleeping; the moment she stopped doing something the realization of what exactly had just happened started to creep in. It wasn't a pleasant experience. Everyone had been busy, so she tried to help out where she could and stay out of the way where she couldn't.

 

With a last look towards her new mechanical construct of war, Luna started away from the corner of the hanger.

 

OOC: Marcus open for interaction.

[shadow pridak money gang]

IC:

 

At least flight leads got the best deals on hot coffee.

 

With one hand planted on her chin and cracking her neck from all possible angles, Nadia began drifting down the hallway in search of somewhere to enjoy her hearty breakfast of candy bars, pastries and fresh-ish caffeine. She hadn't been expecting to be dining with company, but found - pleasantly - that someone had left some perfectly good Japanese food sitting out in the hallway.

 

Heeee.

 

When she was closer to her target, Lauren waved at the Warrior pilot vigorously with the hand holding her food.

 

"Heeeey you. You're not supposed to be on duty this morning, sim fiend." An imperious bop of a candy bar landed on Inoue Ayane's nose. "Sup babe."

 

-Tyler

Edited June 12, 2016 by Key and

[NorikSigma]

IC:

 

"I'm fiiiiiiiiiine," Gwen assured Hassan, airily waving her hand. "Sleep is for wusses, anyway. Fixing mechs is where it's at now! So, lead the way, my bro!"

 

-Void

IC: Hassan - Hangar

 

Hassan smiled a little, glad to see the hyperactive pilot remain enthusiastic in spite of all that had happened.

 

He led Gwen to the Jinn. The visor-like face stared out from the dim lights in this section of the hangar. The maintenance ladder was still open and leaning against the machine, clearly indicating the previous mechanic's sloppiness.

 

"Well, here we are."

Edited June 12, 2016 by Norik Apple Juice

[Void Emissary]

IC:

 

"Well," said Gwen, popping her knuckles, "let's get going here."

 

What followed could be described as a controlled chaos as the mechanic burrowed herself into the side of the Jinn like a worm into an apple, with bits of wiring and metal doo-dahs being flung out behind her.

 

"What did you say the last mechanic was working on?" came a call from within.

 

-Void

[NorikSigma]

IC: Hassan

 

Dodging the flying components, he answered, "Mostly the joints in the limbs, like the servos, as well as the wires that were running from it to the main computer."

 

As he didged another projectile, Hassan hoped Gwen didn't toss anything too vital out.

Edited June 12, 2016 by Norik Apple Juice

[Constructelf]

OOC: almost been a year...

 

IC: Susan

Eyes opened, and Lance Corporal Dreary looked around the room.

 

Where am I?

 

... Right, that happened.

 

I should have been better. I could have pushed it a little farther before bailing...

 

She couldn't remember the exact number of days it had been since she was shot down. It would come to her shortly, but for now, she was too drowsy to work her brain. All that she knew was that she was in no condition to fight for at least a few more days. As well, now she was down to one more ejection max before she would lose flight clearance in the Federation Forces and be transferred behind the front lines.

 

It made her angry.