The three pulse lasers spat across the enemy's left leg. The Gauss slug shattered armor off the
Vanquisher's left arm. His short range missiles struck hardest, smashing with a wall of fire and
completely hiding the Mech's torso from view for several moments. As soon as Devon could
begin to see the Mech's midsection again, the familiar flash of lasers stabbed back at him from
the rising smoke.
Double hits on the right leg. Fortunately they hadn't converged on the left or he might have
been on the ground. Before Devon could brace himself for further damage, the Vanquisher fired
both of its light Gauss rifles towards him. One missed wide and the other sped right between the
Direwolf's legs. The enemy's aim had obviously suffered from minimum range targeting systems.
My turn.
Devon fired back with all his weapons. The Gauss rifle smashed into the center of the large
Mech, barely budging the massive machine but no doubt doing considerable damage. His pulse
lasers were not so kind. The three pulsing beams splashing light across the Vanquisher's
mid-section, adding insult to the Gauss slug's injury. Devon's short range missiles failed to
launch, no doubt because they'd not had enough time to reload from their previous launch. He
backed off of the trigger on his controls, throttling up into a slow run while awaiting his enemy's
response.
Devon couldn't believe his eyes when the Vanquisher stopped moving. The machine seemed to
have had a massive myomer musculature failure. He knew this was unlikely but nothing else
could explain the Blakist's stillness. Devon knew he could not trust his foe however. Some sort
of trap could have just been laid. Switching to his pulse lasers, he slowed down his Mech and
stopped completely himself. He focused the weapons carefully on the cockpit area of the
Vanquisher and fired all three pulse lasers.
The 100-ton Mech's only response was a gentle fall to the ground. Apparently the pilot had
been killed or the circuits and machinery destroyed. Regardless, the Vanquisher was now only
another defeated enemy. Its pilot had cost Devon's Direwolf precious leg armor, but that
mattered little considering what he'd reduced the assault Mech to.
Andrew rolled onto his stomach. Though he knew he'd been hit, he was afraid to look down.
He couldn't bring himself to do it. He felt new pain in his legs, then realized his body was shaking
violently as his vision began to blur. Before he could focus on anything, his eyes rolled
backwards, betraying him. He could only hear things now. But that wasn't to last either. A
piercing screech faded in slowly, seemingly taking away what remained of his senses. After the
sound peaked he felt something like an insect's sting. And then there was silence. Peace.
Ryan Allen's shouts to Andrew hadn't helped any. Though it was obvious his teammate was
wounded, he'd prayed aloud that the young man would get up. But the Purifier had made sure
that Andrew wouldn't. After the Mechwarrior had been shot across his upper back, the machine
finished the job with a blast of gunfire into his crippled body.
Ryan's anger at his enemy was overwhelming. He could barely focus his eyesight before the
Purifier turned its body to face its only remaining foe. Realizing his teammate was already gone,
Ryan elected to use the last weapon in his arsenal. He raised the gyrojet rifle and fired the
one-shot explosive shell built into its side, a prototype of Samuel Stark's. The shell shattered in a
brilliant flash of light just as it passed over the Purifier's form.
The shell's blast sent sparkling fireballs across the area, each bursting into smaller bits of flame
and light. The overall effect was stunning to say the least. Ryan had forgotten about the shell's
specifics, but he knew various parts of the weapon were intended to temporarily scramble
electronic sensors with an overwhelming amount of feedback. He wasted no time in seeking the
cover of the nearest barracks building.
Rounding the corner of the building, Ryan was shocked to see a Mech just in front of him. The
20-ton Hornet was moving fast and nearly stepped into him as its massive leg zoomed past. It
was Tony Hopkins. That was a wave of relief. The perfect Mech for taking out battle armor.
Crouching behind the wall in a position that allowed him to view the battle, Ryan watched as
Hopkins' Mech spat out at the Purifier with medium lasers. The Purifier staggered backwards,
its electrical circuits no longer the source of its main problem. One laser reduced the right leg
actuators in the Purifier to liquid, a sudden setback to its otherwise amazing maneuverability.
Ryan watched as the Mech trudged forward, immediately taking advantage of its small foe's
disability. The Hornet's pilot wasted no time, smashing its enemy with one of its legs in a lightning
fast attack that sent the Purifier careening through the side of another barracks building 20 meters
away. Tony must know how desperate our situation is tonight. Nothing else could explain
the violence Ryan had just witnessed. Past his breaking point.
Before Ryan could signal the smaller Mech with body language, bright light flashed out overhead.
The particle projection cannon hit its mark, blowing one of the Hornet's legs off entirely. Ryan
turned around to face the enemy, but it was no use. The sudden attack had come from hundreds
of meters off, its source hidden in the shadows of the night. As he began to make his way
toward the Hornet, he could only watch in horror as additional PPC shots tore the fallen Mech
to bits. Understanding the futility in helping his friend, Ryan ran back towards the wreckage of
the Spider and Nexus battle. God help me find cover there.
Samuel and Xandar were moving fast. Though they'd fallen down almost as many stairs as
they'd descended, the two had yet to evade the commandos following them. Gunfire crackled, a
deafening thunder within the confines of the emergency stairwell. Ricochets sang high pitched
shrieks as the bullets rushed by. One fell silent, find its way into Xandar's left ankle.
As Xandar yelped out in pain, he realized he'd lost most of the feeling in his foot. He couldn't
place his foot, missing the step before him and bringing himself into a fall that ended at the
stairwell's concrete wall. The smack opened a wound on his left eye and broke his nose, causing
a concussion while the surprise and force dropping him to the ground like a doll. He tried to
speak out but could only manage incoherent mumbles. Where are you Samuel?
Xandar flipped himself over, feeling a shot of pain across his right shoulder. His slow focus
adjusted on a masked soldier at the top of the stairs. Xandar fired his own weapon desperately,
though he'd not even aimed the TK rifle. The concussion retarded his usual reflexes, resulting in
the rifle firing into the nearby wall. As the blasts from the gun caught his clothes afire, the
masked attacker fired his own rifle. Xandar fell still, his leg ablaze in a slow-spreading heat.
Vanquisher's left arm. His short range missiles struck hardest, smashing with a wall of fire and
completely hiding the Mech's torso from view for several moments. As soon as Devon could
begin to see the Mech's midsection again, the familiar flash of lasers stabbed back at him from
the rising smoke.
Double hits on the right leg. Fortunately they hadn't converged on the left or he might have
been on the ground. Before Devon could brace himself for further damage, the Vanquisher fired
both of its light Gauss rifles towards him. One missed wide and the other sped right between the
Direwolf's legs. The enemy's aim had obviously suffered from minimum range targeting systems.
My turn.
Devon fired back with all his weapons. The Gauss rifle smashed into the center of the large
Mech, barely budging the massive machine but no doubt doing considerable damage. His pulse
lasers were not so kind. The three pulsing beams splashing light across the Vanquisher's
mid-section, adding insult to the Gauss slug's injury. Devon's short range missiles failed to
launch, no doubt because they'd not had enough time to reload from their previous launch. He
backed off of the trigger on his controls, throttling up into a slow run while awaiting his enemy's
response.
Devon couldn't believe his eyes when the Vanquisher stopped moving. The machine seemed to
have had a massive myomer musculature failure. He knew this was unlikely but nothing else
could explain the Blakist's stillness. Devon knew he could not trust his foe however. Some sort
of trap could have just been laid. Switching to his pulse lasers, he slowed down his Mech and
stopped completely himself. He focused the weapons carefully on the cockpit area of the
Vanquisher and fired all three pulse lasers.
The 100-ton Mech's only response was a gentle fall to the ground. Apparently the pilot had
been killed or the circuits and machinery destroyed. Regardless, the Vanquisher was now only
another defeated enemy. Its pilot had cost Devon's Direwolf precious leg armor, but that
mattered little considering what he'd reduced the assault Mech to.
Andrew rolled onto his stomach. Though he knew he'd been hit, he was afraid to look down.
He couldn't bring himself to do it. He felt new pain in his legs, then realized his body was shaking
violently as his vision began to blur. Before he could focus on anything, his eyes rolled
backwards, betraying him. He could only hear things now. But that wasn't to last either. A
piercing screech faded in slowly, seemingly taking away what remained of his senses. After the
sound peaked he felt something like an insect's sting. And then there was silence. Peace.
Ryan Allen's shouts to Andrew hadn't helped any. Though it was obvious his teammate was
wounded, he'd prayed aloud that the young man would get up. But the Purifier had made sure
that Andrew wouldn't. After the Mechwarrior had been shot across his upper back, the machine
finished the job with a blast of gunfire into his crippled body.
Ryan's anger at his enemy was overwhelming. He could barely focus his eyesight before the
Purifier turned its body to face its only remaining foe. Realizing his teammate was already gone,
Ryan elected to use the last weapon in his arsenal. He raised the gyrojet rifle and fired the
one-shot explosive shell built into its side, a prototype of Samuel Stark's. The shell shattered in a
brilliant flash of light just as it passed over the Purifier's form.
The shell's blast sent sparkling fireballs across the area, each bursting into smaller bits of flame
and light. The overall effect was stunning to say the least. Ryan had forgotten about the shell's
specifics, but he knew various parts of the weapon were intended to temporarily scramble
electronic sensors with an overwhelming amount of feedback. He wasted no time in seeking the
cover of the nearest barracks building.
Rounding the corner of the building, Ryan was shocked to see a Mech just in front of him. The
20-ton Hornet was moving fast and nearly stepped into him as its massive leg zoomed past. It
was Tony Hopkins. That was a wave of relief. The perfect Mech for taking out battle armor.
Crouching behind the wall in a position that allowed him to view the battle, Ryan watched as
Hopkins' Mech spat out at the Purifier with medium lasers. The Purifier staggered backwards,
its electrical circuits no longer the source of its main problem. One laser reduced the right leg
actuators in the Purifier to liquid, a sudden setback to its otherwise amazing maneuverability.
Ryan watched as the Mech trudged forward, immediately taking advantage of its small foe's
disability. The Hornet's pilot wasted no time, smashing its enemy with one of its legs in a lightning
fast attack that sent the Purifier careening through the side of another barracks building 20 meters
away. Tony must know how desperate our situation is tonight. Nothing else could explain
the violence Ryan had just witnessed. Past his breaking point.
Before Ryan could signal the smaller Mech with body language, bright light flashed out overhead.
The particle projection cannon hit its mark, blowing one of the Hornet's legs off entirely. Ryan
turned around to face the enemy, but it was no use. The sudden attack had come from hundreds
of meters off, its source hidden in the shadows of the night. As he began to make his way
toward the Hornet, he could only watch in horror as additional PPC shots tore the fallen Mech
to bits. Understanding the futility in helping his friend, Ryan ran back towards the wreckage of
the Spider and Nexus battle. God help me find cover there.
Samuel and Xandar were moving fast. Though they'd fallen down almost as many stairs as
they'd descended, the two had yet to evade the commandos following them. Gunfire crackled, a
deafening thunder within the confines of the emergency stairwell. Ricochets sang high pitched
shrieks as the bullets rushed by. One fell silent, find its way into Xandar's left ankle.
As Xandar yelped out in pain, he realized he'd lost most of the feeling in his foot. He couldn't
place his foot, missing the step before him and bringing himself into a fall that ended at the
stairwell's concrete wall. The smack opened a wound on his left eye and broke his nose, causing
a concussion while the surprise and force dropping him to the ground like a doll. He tried to
speak out but could only manage incoherent mumbles. Where are you Samuel?
Xandar flipped himself over, feeling a shot of pain across his right shoulder. His slow focus
adjusted on a masked soldier at the top of the stairs. Xandar fired his own weapon desperately,
though he'd not even aimed the TK rifle. The concussion retarded his usual reflexes, resulting in
the rifle firing into the nearby wall. As the blasts from the gun caught his clothes afire, the
masked attacker fired his own rifle. Xandar fell still, his leg ablaze in a slow-spreading heat.
| Undone (3)... |
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