Space Mecha Mauveshirt Quest (2024)

[X] Plan: Face to Face (v3)
-[X] Operation Brother's Keeper: War seemed so simple then. The glorious and honorable Redrosians, and the treachery of the Collar. Only it turned out that not everything was so clearcut, that some of Redrosia's own were plotting against each other. And when Halfpenny thought she had found the root of the rot, she wound up slaughtering her own unknowing allies. (Perhaps it was a mercy in the end, given what was left to the survivors in the Collar. But that was no relief.)
-[X] And Redblade unlatched her helmet, revealing a Sword perfect face, with dark skin, short dark hair, and for a brief moment you thought you saw bright eyes. She smiled at you before leaving. (You really needed to ask Aegis what she'd said to Redblade.)
-[X] See To Your Mech: It may be a sportpiece and its weapons are simulated, but the engines and hullframe of this Stardawn Angel Elite are no joke! Ignore the calls of impropriety and get your hands on them so you could get something to take back home!
-[X] You could feel it. This wasn't sugar, it was quicksand. A battle of the wills with the world itself. And battle was a chance to improve yourself, wasn't it?
-[X] Write-in: "BAH GAWD, THAT'S THE VALKYRIE'S MUSIC!" Can't be a Bravo 1-1 without her.

-[X] Operation Brother's Keeper: War seemed so simple then. The glorious and honorable Redrosians, and the treachery of the Collar. Only it turned out that not everything was so clearcut, that some of Redrosia's own were plotting against each other. And when Halfpenny thought she had found the root of the rot, she wound up slaughtering her own unknowing allies. (Perhaps it was a mercy in the end, given what was left to the survivors in the Collar. But that was no relief.)

Iron Collar Front
Annaburo Theatre
D+497 of the CIF War
D+98 of Redrosian deployment in Theatre
Objective: Secure Annaburo Northern Polar megafactory and orbital elevator complex.
Casualty Levels: 58% (Withdrawal point: 75%- Mission priority: VERMILLION)

The co*ckpit felt frigid despite the fusion reactor powering her mech. Hull patches and armor sealants to patch battle damage proved to be imperfect for keeping out the cold of a planet that blotted out the light of its sun. And fixing heating elements in her seat and patched-upon-patched suit were far down the repair queue when there were entire mechs that were barely being kitbashed back into operation before being shoveled out again.

Ninety-eight days on this accursed planet. Why did it feel like ninety years? The only thing keeping accurate track of time was her persocomp, the only computer in the entire mech that hadn't been smashed and rebuilt out of spare parts amidst hellish levels of electronic warfare that was ubiquitous as the storm in the sky. Her mind was not trustworthy, one day of patrols bleeding into the next long past the point of her endurance mods and cognitive rotation implants should possibly have sustained. She understood how the cultists could lose themselves into blind belief that their metal gods of war were the only constant in this mad world. She didn't dare leave her mech for the past…month now?

Despite those rambling and random thoughts, she much preferred to dwell on those questions than on what her eyes and remaining sensors witnessed as she lumbered towards the objective. Averting her memory from having to absorb more fields of wreckage and carnage, she was still far too backlogged to accept more.

She did however notice the absence of corpses. Half-burned out wrecks, dismantled scrap of scrap, half-collapsed trenches and broken bunkers aplenty, but almost no corpses. Which meant the gravedigger shift was in play here. She readied her mech rifle, taken from the Iron Collar for sake of being able to scavenge more ammo from her foes. And when it was spent, she still had gauntlet blades for melee.

From trenches she crossed into ruins that were once a factory-city complex. What wasn't destroyed was rebuilt by the blind architecture of construction robots that outlived their controllers. But beneath this place, amidst miles-deep tunnels and utility levels was one of the autofactory complexes that made Annaburo a world that could not be bypassed. Even in this world's state as a perpetual warzone, there were entire systems less productive than a single of the autofactory complexes, and not a single one could be allowed to operate in the Federation's rear as it advanced upon the Iron Collar. At least, that was the plan.

That was the plan when this urban assault was meant to be a joint operation by FedArmy and Redrosian mechs. She was alone now, ordered to keep pressing onward while the enemy had no mechs left in the field.

That was the plan when there were Federal mobile infantry that were suited for this kind of urban jungle and the inevitable tunnel war to come. She didn't even have the war-cultists underfoot, not after black phosphorus burned and strangled every soldier in the field that was not elevated by a mech's legs and protected by a noble's filter-lungs.

That was the plan when she had comrades she could count upon to watch her back. And that was why she was so doggedly continuing this death-march, chasing after those who left her for dead by choice after they shot her in the back. But they failed to confirm the kill.

So she marched on half-power. No working comms that could get through the shroud of Dark Storm above besides a few last flare rounds. But she had her orders and her duty. To find the traitors, to make them pay.

A pingback on her sensors. A heat signature, near one of the utility shafts that would lead into the depths of the city. A natural place for them to go, and for her to begin her hunt.

The lack of resistance bothered her. No rampant robots. No stray mechs. The autofactory must be between cycles, which meant it was working on something big for a cycle before returning to massed cannon fodder. She had to make the most of this window before a Behemoth or a Stomper came out of the depths. So she didn't try stealth, she pushed her mech into a lumbering run to reach them before an elevator or another group of rebels could link up with them. They weren't moving at the sound of a mech charging, so they must be waiting for someone and betting to hold out for aid to come their way.

She raised her rifle. Sensors picked up three hulks of mechs, cold and cooling, recently shutdown. That clinched it, they had to believe they were in friendly ground. She had to kill them before they went below. And if she did, then she could take the shaft down, blow up the autofactory's core assembly lines, and finally make a damn difference on this plan-

"Thunder! Thund-" A brief squawk on the radio right when she pulled the trigger. A moment too late to stop a round from going downrange and straight at the rising utility lift. Too late to recognize a verification code before a high explosive erupts among them.

You walk toward the burning remains. Most was destroyed outright. Two bodies had been flung out and into a wall. One was Redrosian, a pilot that scavenged infantry rig from somewhere. The other was Federal, special forces perhaps? It was hard to tell when…

When you killed your own allies.

You learned later the traitors in your unit had fled out to the wastes, not the city. You were lauded a hero for finishing the mission and destroying the hub of the autofactory when no infantry were left to claim the objective. You were told to be silent about the truth, it wouldn't comfort the families of the dead. You understood all these things.

But it was just the latest in a series of failures to tell friend from foe. And it was not the last…

[Brother's Killer: Halfpenny has insights into the dissent amongst the nobility and who could be notable actors of it. But she was also the cause of some of it in her blind actions on the Iron Collar front.]

You are Brennan Shaw, and you metaphorically slam the door down that path of memory lane. You got your work cut out for Halfpenny, but before now all you can do is leave her be.

You have a patrol to prepare for, and Aegis seems to be…

somewhere else

-[X] See To Your Mech: It may be a sportpiece and its weapons are simulated, but the engines and hullframe of this Stardawn Angel Elite are no joke! Ignore the calls of impropriety and get your hands on them so you could get something to take back home!

You looked at your

teammates. Not everyone was here, duties being what they were, but maybe that was for the best.

You Knew Who was prone to complaining if you got in the way when the usual team was working on mechs, so this was an opportunity.

"Well, if you won't tell anyone… I have wanted to look inside my Angel Elite again. Some of those specs are almost Royal grade!"

Uster shook his head.

"Someone won't approve, milady. After all, letting you fiddle with that delicately tuned equipment always leaves a cranky lead mechanic."

Argo chuckled.

"You mean someone won't admit to being worried that our dear little Sword will get hurt when working with high power parts. Not that all of us are in a position to judge."

(Somehow, the little rankled like it was fresh. You'd always been the pip-squeak around here, hadn't you?)

Victus shook her head.

"I'll take responsibility, if no-one else will. I think our mistress here takes enough risks in the arena already that she can take a few more with a wrench. Especially after how you got here in the first place!"

Yes. You…

didn't need to go into that story again.

"Thank you, Victus."

"But I think you should look at my Angel, to be safe. …After I clean out the co*ckpit a little. After all, we don't want anyone seeing anything wrong with your machine."

You shook your head. No matter how much you warned her, Victus let cruft build up, a trash pile unsuited to the Guard. Some would say it was a cute contrast with her usual personality. (though you were a mite concerned at the sight of so many candy bars) Obviously, those were people who had never had to help her clean. But as the pile built up (including, you noticed, one of your posters. Several of your posters.) she eventually called for you to take a look inside.

"It should be safe enough to go to the back panels. Standard pilot access, nothing that needs specialized experience, but you should get a nice look."

"Thank you, Victus."

"Think nothing of it, my lady."

You sighed. That distance between you and Victus, that distance between all of your retainers and you… you wondered if you could ever breach it. The physical affection just made the emotional distance all the more acute.

But that was for later. Mech work was for now.

The details were exciting, new ideas around every corner and new ways to use basic parts. It would be a chore to make them last without specialized mechanic work, and standard combat utility was several iterations away (

) but there was a lot to love about this mech, a lot to love like your whole world here. All your friends.

might come along at any time, too, and then…

Wait. Something was wrong.

Was that a Polymer Ringer Fluid system? And was it not actively on fire? Polymer ring fluid couldn't be trusted to last five minutes without exploding under combat stress! It was something for the spec sheets, not a real mech! Any sane designer would have shot anyone trying to include this, and Victus survived for multiple fights with it running?

You didn't believe in this world any more.

And it all came rushing back. Brennan waiting for you outside. The duties of Redrosia. How you were a biosynth, not, well, this. And how there was a class of students who really needed a good teacher if they weren't going to get themselves killed.

And suddenly all the sugar couldn't hold onto you. Just like the frost, there were things you wouldn't allow to get a grip on your soul. You needed to get back. You needed out of this fantasy made of sugar and frosting and sweet things that were less and less of substance the more you dug beneath the surface.

You'd still have something you'd take out, of course, (if nothing else, you were going to take these mech specs for future reference.) but you wouldn't be defined by it. Some professionalism, some nobility mattered too much to accept it being gone.

"Is something wrong, Adrianna?"

"Plenty. But for now we can stick with the coolant flow. I can get five percent better without needing a full overhaul, with pretty much no harm except needing to replace the paint a bit more often. Pass these notes to the head mechanic whenever the current lead gets back, will you?"

You weren't going to stay long enough for a full parts breakdown here. It wasn't safe. But you could at least get a little for the Angel on the way out.

(Select one)
[ ] It wasn't designed for long term conflict, but the engine had some real heft. Maybe that could be salvaged, even with the explosive risk? (Add engine upgrades as options for the Angel)

[ ] The Armor here was pretty impressive. Difficult to use for anything away from a major repair facility, but impressive. (Add armor upgrades as options for the Angel.)

[ ] Most mechs outside the zone were utilitarian, and even Redrosia had its limits when it came to making its machines look good. Here, though? Here you had some ideas. (Unlock new personalization options for your Angel's appearance, boosting its Narrative relevance.)

You smiled. It wasn't quite a perfect machine for a knight, but you'd find compromises where you needed and have something good enough would more than do. You were still smiling when you heard the music.

It killed your smile. Brennan said he heard it from time to time, that he recognized some pilots by a kind of sound outside of them. This one, you'd never heard before, but you knew what he meant now.

It could only be the Valkyrie. And your old instincts roused themselves through the sugar. Old fear and old anger and old heroism, shoving you out of the mech and…

And into the waiting arms of Bridgette, catching you in something that looked suspiciously like a bridal carry. Five minutes ago, it would have seemed like the most natural thing in the world that she was eight or nine feet of dragon-synth, her wings as pretty as her smile. Now… well, it still suited her, but you could at least remember it wasn't the default. (Why was everyone here so huggy!?)

"I'm sorry about this, Lady Aegis. But we have someone here to meet you."

Bridgette lost her smile, too.

"Ana." She paused, to make sure you understood. "The Valkyrie."

And then the young woman who walked in to meet you picked up the smile as if it was hers by right. She was a little taller than you, a fellow human with light mechanical augmentations that did very little to hurt her poster-perfect looks. Then again, you never got to see here face-to-face in the realm of the real, so you didn't have a reliable metric to judge against.

"Aww, really, Bridgette? Are you still sore about last time?"

"I had the key shootdown, in a team match, and you stole it!"

Ana shrugged, apologetic.

"I can hardly be blamed. It's the whole point of the games to score."

She turned towards you.

"But she's right, you know. She was very good. Would your people be willing to trade Bridgette? I think she really could be a benefit, and we'd pay more than enough to secure a replacement. Just imagine how much simpler planning would be without her charging in to disrupt all your complicated plans!"

You scratched your chin.

"Hmm. We would still be able to meet in our off hours. And Bridgette was talking about wanting a pay raise…"

"You wouldn't, Aegis!"

You smiled.

"Well, not right now, at any rate. What are you really here for, Ana, other than to tease our mutual friend Bridgette?"

Ana smiled wider.

"I heard that you were going to face down the Hecate Union. Now, in theory we're in the same alliance, and I would never undermine their positions. But these alliances are so flexible that I can't even keep track of them half the time. And I thought that I could give a friendly warning to my favorite rivals, if only so that the CIF league remembers why it needs me and the Roost so much."

Bridgette pulled closer to you, your tiny form a shield for the massive dragon against the tiny intimidation from Ana. It was all the funnier for how seriously she took it.

"Aegis, I don't think we need her that much right now."

"I think we should at least be good hosts, Bridgette. What do you want to tell us about?"

She didn't look like the Valkyrie on the posters, but she felt the same, to the extent a stupid human nose worked she even smelled the same. Brennan had gotten almost everything he had to start with from her in one bullet. (what did he end up taking in the beginning? He said he didn't begin from much.)

You weren't going to turn down her giving you something for free.

(Pick one)

[ ] You could use technical schematics on the Hecate Union mechs. They wouldn't be one for one with the real thing, but they'd tell you enough.

[ ] Standard Hecate Union small unit tactics were academy standard, but their elites were different. Know a bit about them, and you might be better equipped to win against their aces.

[ ] Mercenary schematics. Outfitting specs for mercenary high-spec, low-volume custom gear. The trademarks of established companies, and a heads up on the manufacturers that didn't care who pulled the trigger as long as they got paid.

[ ] A Hint of Things to Come: Some things are behind because there isn't actually a war. Others are well ahead. But you definitely feel the same tech tree is in play, this is a taste of what the future really holds.

And somehow, you had something more than information coming out of this little bargain.

Ethos Evolution: Pick one step towards a ethos

[ ] Being human wasn't a dream come true, but it was… different. And maybe a little flexibility would help you figure out how to adjust in a crisis. ( initial ethos focuses on adjustment)

[ ] Brennan had always focused on what he could do for himself, fighting the will of the universe. You had to admit, it had some use in a place like this. (Initial ethos growth focuses on self-determination)

[ ] This wasn't Redrosia, really, wasn't home. And you could feel home even here. (Initial ethos builds on Redrosian themes)

[ ] Something else of your choice? (Write-in. No telling the real outcome, but the choice will truly be yours.)

But something was different here. Every word you said to the Valkyrie was something that didn't quite fit with the world, something you forced into it. And as the world strained, it started pushing you back where you came from.

Right into the co*ckpit of a mech.

In the middle of a fight.

Times like this, it was easy to remember why you had issues with the Zone.

(Aegis gains +15 Sugar CP, +15 Grandeur CP, +1 Standard CP)

---------------------------------------------

Earlier

You are Brennan Shaw, and you were having a very bad day. The worst day you'd had since the Stark Crossroads, if you had to judge, even if Annaburo kept things competitive.

It all started well enough. Walking the class through the standards of a patrol flight, giving some basic instructions on how to check for pirate activity, the basics. Aegis wasn't quite here (you could feel a bit of the zone about the whole thing, but she'd be fine. You hoped) but her echo was still able to go through the routines. It had been a while since you had a differing "awake" moment than another in your party, but so far autopilot Aegis was the very model of a diligent follower.

"Alright class. Let's go through the basics, one more time. The convoy is just a phantom on your radar made of spoof drones at the moment, but you can treat it like it's real, because any pirates will too. We're the decoy this time."

Redblade sighed.

"A fake convoy for students faking the role of soldiers. I understand that we aren't…"

You wished Aegis was up to commenting, but you didn't need a canned Royal Guard line, so you responded on your own.

"You are, Redblade. We're on decoy duty, not just a patrol, and that means anyone looking to capture a supply convoy is looking for us. Which means slacking off might get you killed when pirates attack."

Blackthumb's voice crackled onto your radio.

"And if we don't get pirates, then Halfpenny will make us wish we were dead, eh sir?"

"I won't make promises for nobles who outrank me. I'll let your memories do that."

"Yes, sir! Alright, squad. Standard formations. Let's stay alert and stay alive."

The real convoy sent you signals of its safe progress. Your students kept the chatter to what was required.

You were starting to wonder if it was the right flashback.

Then the fleet showed up. Not yours, either. Five frigates, led by the Heavy Frigate Ashanti. Hecate Union Fleet heavy frigate Ashanti that is. Host to one of the Hecate Union's elite hunter killer teams, and escorted by four frigates of mercenaries.

Redrosian Carrier | Captain
What the hell are CIF doing back here?! Action stations! Action stations! Launch all mechs!​

You'd trained your students well. If this was a pirate group, you might even be able to sit back and let them work. Here, it was all you could do to try to keep them alive.

No. It was what you could do to keep yourself alive. Your Carrier was keeping the mercs from getting comfortable, your students and Halfpenny were keeping alive against the grunts…

Redblade piloting: 1d12 base (6)+1d6 piloting (4)=10, Mercenary rookie base 1d6(4)+piloting 1d4(1)=5: Redblade wins.

You'd even seen Redblade draw first blood at the edge of your sensor stream, before e-Haze cut you off. They at least had a chance.

But you? You had decided to draw the Hunter Killers away from your students. And now four of the Hecate Union's finest were trying to carve you up.

A woman's voice echoed in your co*ckpit, the stock sound of an empty narrative beat.

Hecate HK Pilot
"Don't take it too personally in the underworld, Gardener. This is just business."​

Hecate HK Pilot
"Yeah! You made the hitlist, and now you get hit!"​

You were good. Good enough to stay alive, at least, but you were playing by someone else's rules, and that meant you weren't at your best. Worse, Aegis was gone, throwing off all those habits you'd built up.

"Haven't been tagged yet."

Not really, at least. But it was close. You were feeling your plot shields ache in advance. Everything ached in advance. You were embarrassed to die here, even if you weren't sure it could keep you down. Scared for your students as well, but embarrassed. A routine patrol, and you provoked an enemy well out of your league for just a little power.

But then you heard something.

Was that… theme music?

CIF battle base roll: 2d6(3,4)+Pilot Skill 1d10(3)+Aegis Support 1d20(20!)+Aegis Pilot Skill 1d10(9!)+Coordination 1d6(1)=40

[2 Hunter Killers very, very, very disabled.]

And the Angel smashed into the battlefield, knocking one of the Hunter Killers flying. With a spiraling maneuver Aegis fell in behind your lumbering heavy mech, right where you wanted her to be.

"Sorry, Brennan. I had to play the hero for a bit. I'm back."

"Sounds like some of it stuck."

Aegis sighed over what had to be her song as it faded out.

"I just hope it wasn't too much."

It was amazing how much one move could turn the tide, but with Aegis here, you weren't just holding on. You weren't struggling to survive. It was time to turn the tide. If you didn't know any better, you might think you were winning, except this time it wasn't being measured simply in driving the enemy off. It gave you a free hand (metaphorically, you were using your MMI) to search for your class's radio channels amidst the resets E-haze inflicted on battlenets.

Blackthumb's voice came through clearest. Of course.

"That's a Hecate Union heavy frigate. What's even happening?"

Aegis's voice was textbook smooth, even if it sounded a bit more sugar sweet than usual.

"The CIF employs the Hecate Union…"

"As diplomats! Defensive specialists! The clean workers. They love touting how they hold a colossal moral highground over everyone else! Now they're hiring mercs and trying to kill cadets on anti-pirate patrols! That's not standard! And these mercs! These guys should be evading hard contact scenarios, not diving straight at a light carrier's full complement and escorts! These guys are nuts!"

You expected Aegis to cut it off. To tell him to get back to work. But then you realized you were expecting Aegis to do your job, and that you could do it a bit better now. He wanted to provide exposition, then you'd let him talk… at the right times.

"Keep an eye open, then, but keep yourself alive first, Blackthumb. If we can take anyone alive, we learn more, but I don't want to lose any of you in the process."

"What's the plan, Sir?"

"We…"

You currently have your instructor lance (You, Halfpenny, Aegis) and three cadet lances under command. Three cadet lances are out of command range or organization, you can't give them direct orders. (This appears to be sharply correlated to not having notables among them)

Your enemies currently consist of a half strength Hecate Union hunter-killer lance, and four lances of mercenary medium mechs entangled with your students. Nominally they are outnumbered, but it's clear they are experienced mercenaries with a will to earn their blood money. Thankfully Aegis' swift intervention has freed you up to act before you lost any cadets, but they are in tin-can mechs against enemies with live ammo and headhunter quotas to meet.

• Instructor Lance
• A Lance (Redblade, Blackthumb)
• B Lance (Wisp, Rent, Null)
• C Lance (Clown, Feint, Tumbler)

Deployment Orders, where are you allocating your lances? Your instructor lance is made of your best, but what can your cadets do?

[ ] Keep the HKs focused on the instructors. Redblade and Halfpenny would be enough to prevent the mercs from making headway, but the aces of the Hecate Union were too dangerous for the class to take on. (Leverage heavily on your personal skill to keep remaining hunter-killers and ambitious mercs on you, but also higher risk)

[ ] Relieve and Rally! Task a lance to come to the aid of other scattered cadets. You may not be able to kill all the mercs, but throwing them off and avoiding kills on your pilots may depend upon who you send to help.

[ ] Protect the Carrier! The carrier and its two frigate escort are holding back, but if those merc frigates see an opportunity with torpedoes, your ride home could take a hit. And you know mechs do point-defense far better than ship guns.

[ ] Attack enemy ships. Frigates are fragile, and Brennan brought a heavy weapon. An attack on their carriers is the last thing they expect, but there's no time to rearm any cadets with anti-ship weaponry. Though they can help cut down turrets and external turrets.

[ ] Write-in. You were Brennan Shaw, teacher and veteran. You could come up with something clever on the fly, couldn't you? Did you really want to let Aegis overshadow you at the finish line?

"Phoenix, Control. Carrier fire support available. Call packages."

Right now the warships are at standoff distances. Your home carrier with two frigate escorts was holding back, hesitant to directly engage given you were not just outnumbered in ships but also outgunned in a direct fight as the enemy heavy frigate had coilguns that could hammer the carrier.

For their part, neither the mercs or the Heacte heavy frigate were inclined to dive into the scrum deeply themselves. If the mech skirmish went their way that may change, but with half of the hunter-killers down already, it would be more likely they'd retreat before taking any risk of damage.

(Select two)
[ ] Anti-Ship Salvo: Launch a wave of anti-ship missiles. These need handholding by a mech for guidance and target lock in E-haze conditions, but are one way for light mechs to hammer warships.

[ ] Anti-Mech Salvo: Launch a wave of anti-mech swarm missiles. Inaccurate and requires target marking by friendly mechs to operate. Useful mainly for denying areas of battlespace to enemy mechs than destroying them.

[ ] Emergency Shuttle: Deploy S&R shuttle to a zone to recover ejected pilots in the middle of combat.

[ ] Launch Armament Package: Deploy resupply drones loaded with guns, ammo, and spare battle shields.

[ ] Hold fire: Conserve warship munitions for later use or when the enemy mech screen is reduced.

OOC: 24 hour discussion period before voting by plan. Time to put your cadets to the test!