2010-12-26 - Trainstopper

Like all days, and even the nights, in domed cities, the atmosphere is melancholoy and beige, the beige is more a result of choice in architectural materials, but it's a somewhat monochromatic and enthusiasm sapping ambience. Vascila County glitters non descriptly within the basin of a martian 'sea' long since devoid of liquid, the location is never entirely quiet, rumbling with muffled industrial and military noise, as high tech humanity metes out survival in hostile climes.

A cargo train, one of many that travels the long and circuitous run of tunnels between the domes, is today carrying a particularly valuable load, prototype technology, weapons, robot parts, even new terraforming technology is being moved in for installation and the first dry runs of testing. Information that of course was wanted to be kept secret, which resulted in larger patrols, visible above ground near vulnerable access points, and even in the tunnels themselves, resulting in information passed through many layers of the command structure and room for leaks. Perhaps this was the true nature of military action, to justify it's existence.

Moving with a practiced normalcy in the dark echoing confines of the tunnel, a few hundred miles from Vascallis now, the train shoots out from beneath an un covered length of run in a narrow gully. As two of a group of three, winged purple robots explode sending bursts of concussive force into the soldier on point, who manages a surprised squawk of surprise before he turns to point his weapon at the assailant.

"Didn't you get the memo? This is mine now." Comes the voice of Hustler-ONE over the Nineballs PA as the long black barrel of the mortar like grenade launcher on his ACs shoulder discharges another arcing projectile with a quiet *chuff* of atmosphere. The mercenary laughs unsympathetically as he lands heavily on the train, his AC shaking unevenly before his momentum equalizes and he regains proper footing.

He thinks back to the map logistics they gave him back at the briefing, multiple patrols all along the train, the carge being held in the front two cars, with the train being 40 cars long or more, various access points where additional security can drop in to harry him at any point. That was why he'd started at the back, he didn't want any surprised coming in after him. He lights a cigarette and rubbed the back of his hand, smiling, considering the requisite thoroughness, then with a subdued blast of boosters his Core's big boot drag noisesomely over the trains car as he moves to get the jump on the next group.

When a company like BAHRAM ships such highly valuable items, one can expect there to be a sizable escort. The purple units, old Phantoma LEVs pilotted by rookies, are merely a small part of the team on board. Much further ahead, near the engine of the car, stands a single red unit, glowing dully, containing an equally dull-feeling pilot - or as an Orbital Frame pilot is called; Runner. However, when a series of units blow up in the distance behind him, "ETR reaction gone - three units of the patrol are no longer responding." Duat, his trusty A.I. dutifully comments on the going ons. "So someone did come." The framerunner, a man named Ascian Luddite, comments, turning his eyes slowly, shifting his gaze towards the little vid-window that displayed an explosion in the air above one of the far-away cars. The time to arrival was quite a while away at the moment - indicated nicely on a red glowing clock in front of him.

"Let's see if they can get further. Or if it is just one of those lousy EFA recon units." He mutters and turns his attention to the car to which the enemy's Armored Core jumped. There, the cabin suddenly begins to open up at the top, showing a threesome of large beam-guns aimed at the back of the car... towards their 'target'. The yellow fronts begin to glow - alerting anyone that they are about to fire. Who ever thought of these slow-firing lasers anyhow? It didn't matter really. "Guess I best shout out a warning of some kind, shouldn't I?" Ascian mutters to his A.I. in the meanwhile, looking rather bored. "Sir, that would seem be to the appropiate response to this situation." The somewhat 'sexy', yet emotionless, female voice replies.

"What type is it?" - "It appears to be of the Armored Core type, sir." - "Alright then." The framerunner's hand goes to his controls, and with a single thought he sends through the broadcastnig speakers; "Your approach has been detected, Armored Core unit. I suggest you leave this convoy alone right this instant... that is, if you can survive your departure. To all BAHRAM troops - engage the enemy." Since when did he get a raise in rank? He didn't. But he was still higher up than some of the rookies on board who are now popping up from cars that have their roofs open - revealing more of the slow Phantoma units.

Going to Mars was always a treat. There were people all across the Red Planet that Samuel knew from what he might refer to as a "previous life," wandering from merc base to merc base and doing whatever mechanical work people needed. He was good at it, too; he wouldn't have had the cash he did if he wasn't, or the Raven friends. Of course, that means that sometimes old friends ask him for a favor...

It isn't a sensor sweep that catches the incoming mobile weapon, but rather the weaponsfire. Automatic fire shoots in a bright streak up from behind at the Armored Core on the train, controlled and shooting from below to hit air rather than the train itself when whatever it is gets closer.

The thing is recognizable as an Armored Core NEXT from the blinding speed of the Overboosted approach, a reverse-jointed model with a good deal of fins and angles on the bronze-and-gunmetal-colored chassis. It's head's sensors are hidden behind an emerald green visor, and it packs a folded cannon behind one shoulder and some kind of boxy launcher behind the other. The short machine gun it fires with is grasped by it's left hand, the shape of a laser blade attached to the left forearm.

"Evening, Raven," the pilot greets. He's a young man; American, by the accent. "I'm gonna have to ask you to pull over."

There's something else lurking on the red planet, Earth's a mess, Delaz fleet had moved out to mars now that is posseses several jump drives thanks to some of their successor state allies. The Zeon fleet had picked up that their allies on mars were under attack. One would pick up a lone drop pod, it blows apart as a machine is dropping, it's not a raven but a DOM. Not an old DOM but one of the ZAFT models, but it's runing an DC IFF.

The thrusters kick in as it starts to drop down.

The voice of the pilot is booming, it's a bit harsh and clearly is someone over 25 in age from the sounds of it.

"So Hustler I see your busy as ever. As you heard my comrade I suggest you do. But if you wish to be the target of a training exercise...."

 Samuel Flynn transmits, "Woah, is that a DOM Trooper?"

 Duat claims, over the radio, "Confirmed: Model - XX09T Dom Trooper."

 Norris Packard transmits, "Correct, Liberated personally from Katharon. Norris Packard, test pilot for the GOUF series suit."

 Ascian Luddite transmits, "Duat, don't take over my Radio without my permission."

 Samuel Flynn transmits, "/Awesome/.

 Samuel Flynn transmits, "--wait, did you say Norris Packard? Oh man, we've got this in the /bag/!"

 Samuel Flynn transmits, "Sam Flynn, sir; it's a pleasure. And this is my baby. I call her Insolent."

 Ascian Luddite is heard holding back a chuckle over the radio - which makes it become more of a snort.

 Samuel Flynn transmits, "What's so funny?"

 Ascian Luddite transmits, "Nothing - sir."

 Samuel Flynn, skeptically, "Uh huh."

 Norris Packard transmits, "Watch it though. This is one of the Raven's nest's founders. He's been a merc since before the One year's war and is still alive."

 Samuel Flynn transmits, "That AC /does/ look pretty familiar..."

 Samuel Flynn transmits, "I think I've seen it in the Tartarus Arena before."

 Norris Packard transmits, "You'd know Hustler prehaps as 9ball."

The Nineball is well into turning the next patrol of Phantomas into puffy orange clouds of debris, but he noticed they already seemed alerted to his approach the heavy AC charges foreward, feet clomping noisemely until it crouches down behind a raised portion in the middle of the car, turning to doublecheck his backside he is just in time to have the upper torso of the Nineball blasted to pieces by the inaugural fire coming at him from the Insolent. Artillery barrage tears gaping holes out of the bulky unit as Rebel kicks his boosters in and jumps up to the next level making a gutsy play and trusting his sensors to evade the bright lasers he sees shooting over and past him, as he attempts to gain locks on both defenders behind him. He pays more attention to the booming threat and accompanying heavy laser fire his ACs sensor suite is picking up, than the friendly warning from the amicable acquaintance of his, Norman Packard.

Rebel can tell by listening to the sound of the train running along it's track that they're rapidly approaching re-entry into the tunnel system, which would take away the sky as terrain, and make things more interesting, he hoped, for the artillery piece, but no walk in the park for any of them, really, he figured. Running backwards along the raised portion of one of the rearmost cars, he occassionally adds boost to the equation as he makes his way to the next car before they enter the tunnel.

The nineball jumps up one last time, sending a short message over the local shortwave. "Everybody's gotta do what they gotta do. No hard feelings." and snigger and it's over... the Nineball hangs like a target in the air, dropping back towards the top of the train as the martian mountainside approachs like a rampaging leviathan, consuming all in it's path.

Rebel 316 confirms his last missile lock and depresses a button on his joystick, causing 6 missiles to spray out at variated angles and directions, which wind twisty paths past one another before three seem to lock on each Samuel and Norman and zip in for the kill. the Nineball can be heard to land on the train as the tunnel sucks up the sky.

 Norris Packard transmits, "He Lios, and R founded the Ravens more or less."

<Radio: B - DC Tactical> Samuel Flynn transmits, "...oh. /Oh/."

<Radio: B - DC Tactical> Samuel Flynn transmits, "Okay, maybe not so easy."

Ascian listens patiently to the radio chatter, as it becomes clear that Duat had sent out an alert across DC bands to alert other parties to the presence of a threat to this particular train. "Did you really have to?" Ascian mutters at the machine, staring dryly at the four letters at the way front of the cockpit which glowed dimly, indicating that Duat was online. "I appologize, sir. But for the most efficient combat to take place, having a large sum of allies in the case of an unknown enemy leads to the most favorable outcome." The female voice replies dutily. "I guess so. Besides..." Radio chatter continues, as Norris Packard and Samuel Flynn speak. "... it seems we are receiving a celebrity of sorts."

He turns his head towards the vid-window again, showing the missiles which clearly were not aimed for him. "It would only be right if we put out the red carpet now, wouldn't it?" - "Red carpet, sir?" - "Look it up." Ascian replies in an annoyed fashion and has the Amenthes turn around as they finally enter a new tunnelsystem, and the train begins to jerk fiercely left and right. This of course, does little to annoy Ascian, since the Amenthes floats - using its verniers to stay perfectly in place, as if the train were the center of the earth. Duat was magnificent in adjust for such things. "So how will we say hello?" - "May I suggest the homing beams, sir? The area is rather cramped due to the low and thin tunnel. And with their guidance abilities, we are least likely to do any permanent harm to the surrounding structure."

Accepting this advice, Ascian now puts both hands on the half-orb controls of his unit and closes his eyes, pushing his head further against the back of the comfort of the cockpit's seat. The Orbital Frame, in response, begins to glow a fiercer red, the light gliding down the vein-like bioluminescent lines; a mechanical yet life-like whine joins this as the unit's wings spread for a moment, then seperate into a dozen little bit-like units which remain close to the unit itself. Each is shaped similarly to a weapon of sorts, that together can form the shape of feathers on a wing. But now - they are just what the show to the world. Weapons, as red dots appear at their tips - the homing beam array charging up shortly - then sends out a dozen of red laserbeams that quickly disappear besides the train by defying gravity -- moving around as if little invisible mirrors were in the air -- gliding along to their target, before jumping up, aimed at his weaponry; hopefully surprising him!

In the meanwhile, a set of Phantomas have jumped onto the top of the train and are slowly moving towards the '9-ball', aiming their heavy and cumbersome beam rifles towards his position and fire a series of thick blue beams that rip through the skies. Hardly any aim to them though. Cannonfodder, in Ascian's opinion.

Sam trades some choice words with his two allies, and tries to place where he's seen that Armored Core before. He remembers watching a particularly brutal fight in the Tartarus Arena, something sort of like that one in the midst of a pile of someone else's scrap... and then Norris drops the name Hustler and 9-Ball.

Oh.

The middleweight NEXT keeps low, and Sam's finger gently brushes the button on one of the joysticks in the cockpit, a brief flicker of a side-mounted thruster coming to life visible, propelling him close to the side of the train. The missiles detonate above and behind him as he passes beneath them, the concussive force rattling him in the cockpit and causing the green-white field of Primal Armor to flash into sight for a moment. He gets bounced against the wall of the tunnel, throwing sparks and then ricocheting back towards the train--

Insolent boosts upward and gets above it, firing a burst downward at the Armored Core before landing on top of the train. The reverse-joint legs make it awkward, but it turns and hops up and back, landing on the other side of the closest roof access. He turns his sensors on overdrive, the ECM suite paired with the radar system giving him a map of the tunnel. "Lets see... gotta find a place I can take off. But first--" Sam flicks a switch in the cockpit, changing a system setting in a hurry.

Can't forget about Hustler. The launcher drops a round shape out of the side of it and off the side of the train, the ball vanishing from sight. It pops back up alongside 9-Ball, propelled by it's own power, a blue laser suddenly lancing out of a port on the side of it and swept across it like a cutting beam. Whatever this NEXT is, it's got remotes!

Norris Packard is now locked in combat and he says. "Nothing ever is personal for you is it Raven. That's how you surived so long as a mercnary haven't you?"

The DOM takes a hit as they get locked in close range combat Norris does seem fired up. "I'm sorry but your not collecting your pay check today Raven!"

Packard now makes use of the full out lance that the machine has and lunges after the armored core.

"Come let me show you something you not seen before!"

Rebel 316 continues to back the Nineball up as the shuffling massive supper struts and panels of the tunnel ribbon overhead. The laser fire being sent his way by Ascian up at the front is erratic, cut off occassionally, though less frequently as Rebel continues to approach rapidly for the front, he's nearing the midpoint allready. He can see them as green incoming fire indicated on his HUD, though as they swoop to meet him as he dodges the big energy blasts is new, he remains cool and calm, occassionally even managing to bring a pursuing flock of phantoms into their ends as he continually evades his.

He turns again, running backwards as the NEXT and the DOM make rapid pursuit. "You NEXTs and your 'hot shit' new toys. That's what they are, I like that, I'd probably like you, but them's the breaks." The Nineball sprays plasma rifle fire as Samuel manuevers defensively, failing to score any hits, but though taken by surprise as the remote unit pops up next to him, Hustler immediately boosts up, the top of his CORE's head sparks off the roof as he angles it back and comes down on the next car. The grenade launcher unfolds as he focuses on the other Core, it seems Crazy as Norris seems free to charge in on the breakaway.

He seems to find the NEXT a salvo of grenades launched in short order arc low over the rushing train at Samuel, as the DOM takes the Nineballs flank and destroys it. In fact pieces of it fly way that seem entirely too large and floppy, as limbs bounce angrily off of Norris' machine, sparking, ansd occasionally exploding. Half of the nineball just standing there, amidst a repeating blossom of orange novas.

A spray of plasma fire comes from above suddenly, blasting the wrecked remote 8-Ball drone into further smithereens, and the Nineball drops from a service access hatch as they pass beneath, ahead of Norris and Samuel by at least half a car. At this point timed explosive charges set in the tunnel go off, near the engine, rocking the entire train jarringly, the intent being to cause damage to the controls, or rather, to put the train out of control. "I know it's your house guys, but I like to play by my rules!" He offers challengingly, still a moving blip on all sensors tracing him.

"ETR reaction remains equal. No damage done, sir." This surprises Ascian. "You're telling me he dodged the homing beams?" He asks Duat. "Sir, it would appear so." The Ender lets out a sigh and hangs his head a bit - a bit annoyed. "Stop calling me sir, Duat." Why did he suddenly not care for that title? "I'm not that important." Although he liked to claim otherwise sometimes, he knew he was just another soldier. "Just don't use any honorific." - "No can do, sir." - "Tsssk. What other options do you have programmed?" - "Many, sir." - "List." - "Teacher, Master, Uncle, Father, Son, Ma'am, Sir, Daughter, Mother" - "Stop stop. Never mind. Tssk, Next you'll be calling me master, like that Ernula girl." - "Master selected." - "Huh?". Voice recognition has advanced over the years. But some kinks clearly are still to be worked out over time.

"Whatever." He doesn't care to mess with these things right now. They were in combat. Heck - why had he even bothered to try and fix Amenthes' honorifics to begin with? The Ender shakes his head. "Stupid A.I. worthless piece of..." - "Master?" - "Never mind." He continues to watch as explosions continue to unfold ahead of him and the Armored Core... then suddenly spins Amenthes around as explosions go off at the front of the engine car. "What the!?" A blast in one of the walls sensds shards into the main engine, dislodging it from the main track and setting off a chain-reaction as the cars that follow begin to shake and be forced off of the tracks as well. The metal touching the side of the walls of the tunnel begin to erect huge sparks - flames soon following. "Shit! Duat!" - "We are approaching a inhabited area soon, Master! We must stop this car!" - "SHIT!"

Ascian turns his attention onto the offender further along the back of the train and raises one of Amenthes' arms up into the air, which shimmers for a moment as metal warps and wraps and moves until finally it has formed a sort of 'rifle'. "Get me a lock-on!" - "Locked on, Master!" Duat reports, as a neat reticule appears over the vid-window of the Nine-ball. "No, the little bits he has with him." - "Done!" The reticule shifts, and the rifle arm at the front shifts again, changing into the form of something much like a shotgun. "FIRE!" And as he calls this out, a rush of red energy flows through the unit once more and pushes out a burst of plasma-like lasers that launch straight for the enemy's eight-balls. Meanwhile, he maneuvers the unit further into the air so he doesn't get caught up in the engine's tumble of death. "Please let it stop on its own..." But it isn't. It's simply going out of control.

<Radio: B - DC Tactical> Ascian Luddite transmits, "Shit. The train is going out of control, and we're 1 minute away from hitting a civilian dome!"

<Radio: B - DC Tactical> Duat reports, "Train hits next civilian station in ETA 73 seconds."

<Radio: B - DC Tactical> Norris Packard transmits, "You two deal with the Train, I'll deal with the Raven."

<Radio: B - DC Tactical> Samuel Flynn mutters to himself. "--lock speed one-point-three-five, distance nine hundred, structural weaknesses at--"

<Radio: B - DC Tactical> Samuel Flynn transmits, "--uh, sorry, seventy-three seconds, right, on it!"

<Radio: B - DC Tactical> Ascian Luddite grumbles. "Leave this to me. I... think Amenthes could maybe..."

Sam controls the remote weapon, well, remotely. He switches control modes from joysticks to a keyboard, and every time he does it, he has to laugh a little at a private joke. He inputs trajectories as he crunches numbers, the remote barely connected to him through the Allegorical Manipulation System. He rolls his hand like he was spinning a ball in it to turn it over, flipping it around 9-Ball and sending it shooting back towards him, weaving around plasma rifle fire as he advances--

Insolent explodes into a train-rattling fireball. The grenade barrage tears the roof off the train, hammering the car down nearly to the track. Shrapnel scatters through the tunnel, whatever was inside thoroughly blasted and then shredded as bits of tarps and crates join the shower spinning away back the way they came. Smoke pours out, billowing, inky blackness leaving an easy trail to follow the fight.

The NEXT suddenly blitzes out of the cloud. It's visor is cracked and it's right arm along with the machine gun are just /gone/. Primal Armor makes it look like a green-white comet rushing at 9-Ball, closing the distance he gained in an instant as the Armored Core skates across the roof of the cars. It's laser blade ignites in a short dark blue blade, the edges glowing a fierce white. The Dragonslayer swipes at 9-Ball--but it catches air, and the NEXT continues forward, deactivating it's Overboost to skid to a halt on the rooftop.

"I like Normals, don't get me wrong," Sam says, closing the static-filled remote monitor. It's gone. He's starting to get a headache from the AMS. He watches 9-Ball, looking, watching, listening... he hears them, the whispers--ventilation for heat, lower back and sides, grenade launcher, missile launcher, long range, lock speed one-point-three-five, distance nine hundred, structural weaknesses at upper leg joints, upper arm, spinal assembly--

Samuel shakes his head. It's a handful of seconds later. He tunes out the noise, fingers shaking a little. Was he talking to himself? He reinputs calculations, trajectories, arc of fire. The NEXT just smokes, it's cracked sensor visor gleaming. "But NEXTs are more my style," he finishes. "Nothing personal, Nine Ball."

Insolent turns and charges forward, towards the front of the train and away from 9-Ball. Two more remotes deploy, one high and one low. They move quickly, darting every which way and then coming down below the train. The blue beams shoot upward through the walls and ceiling of the train, the cutting lasers slicing through the roof and coming for the other Armored Core. They go for the thighs and the waist, aiming for joints, looking to systematically disassemble it--or do enough damage that the weight of the thing does it /for/ them.

He's got a few tricks up his sleeve yet.

<Radio: B - DC Tactical> Norris Packard transmits, "Both of you handle it I'll make sure this type of mission's never proftiable for the Raven again."

Things are looking bad, as he relaises what that the Raven had in mind to likely distract them. He's going to get a lot of colonists killed. Well when he thinks about it Rebel is an EArthnoid, some things never change. He's on the flank of the other machine as he gets a hit in, but the AC is fast an d flips away. The machine picks up speed and packard abuses the planet's lower gravity to give chase after Rebel.

The machine leaps and the beam saber launches into a flurry of attacks, very much like one late Zeon ace, prehaps Norris has incoperate some other fallen zeon soliders moves into his style? Who knows, but it seems he's trying to go after the AC's connection points which could be an issue either locking limbs or triggering their detachment if he got lucky.

Rebel 316 is good, and it shows as the train begins to rock wildly within the confines of the tunnel, all remaining defenders are converging on him by now as he makes his way along the serpentine path. As more fire comes at him from the men holding position at the head of the beast, he manages to retain tight control and evade the incoming fire, his plasma rifle barks off return fire, a tight spray that fails to hit anything as he boosts up and over the next gap between cars, and takes careful aim, attempting to bank a shot off the top of the train itself and back at the artiller piece.

He's agitated and displeased at his inability to shake Samuel off, the NEXT just will not relent. The Nineball backs off, like a duelist pacing the arena with his opponent before the NEXT attempts to hack the oldschool AC to pieces. With a desperate blast of boost, Rebel 316 manges to get out of the way, for the most part, but the outer armor casing on his left boot sparks, then falls off with a hollow bang as they eat the remains of Sam's attack as the Nineball receeds. Again Norris comes in aggressively, beam weapons coming in on Rebel's undefended flank before the Raven seems even aware of his presence there.

Explosions ring out and the big yellow mech falls back, dropping to one knee, in fact, almost as if beaten, still surrounded in smoke which gouts from damage panels and craters on the heavyweight machine. But the smoke clears after a moment, the DOM still tearing into the Core with reckless abandon. And now it is plain for anyone to see Hustler One is braced, and the pilot sighs, not at all convinced of easy victory now, as he lights a cigarette and depresses the trigger. Activating the ninebreaker missile which fires point blank and dumbfired out the barrel of his shoulder mounted mortar. The nineball is slow to rise to it's feet afterwards, be that as it may.

When Duat once again confirms the lack of a hit, Ascian simply doesn't care. Instead, he is well on his way to the front of the engine car. "Amenthes, can we engage the locking system of the original Vector Cannon?" - "We cannot engage those without engaging the Vector Cannon mode properly. This is highly suggested against, Master." - "Then we'll do this the hard way. Let's quickly give a parting shot!" The wings, still in parts - the bits hanging gently in the air around the Orbital Frame, show their red dots again. "Do we still have the kinetic canceler active?" - "Of course! Master." - "Redirect the energy output into the homing beam array." - "Master?" - "We're using it to attack him, and at the same time to reduce the kinetic force of this train!" He flies to the front of the train car, which is still coming at high speed. "ETA to civilian dome is hit: fiftythree seconds." - "Hurry!" He places the both hands of the Amenthes on the train and begins to lower his frame towards the ground.

The cockpit immediately begins to rattle. "Disengaging the kinetic cancelers for the Amentes may do severe structural damage to the unit. And... you may die, Master." - "Doesn't matter. I gotta save these civilians!" - "Roger that, master. Transfering power and settings." A little 'blip' confirms this and a transfer bar appears. "Let's do this!" And with that he presses the pointy feet of the Amenthes into the ground beneath, immediately sending sparks across and dust begins to blast into the air. The red light of the Amenthes slowly begins to turn purple as the kinetic force of the train's momentum begins to flow into the machine, rocking the device without its protection and beginning to corrode its armor due to the incredible power that is excerting upon the unit.

"Shit, she wasn't kidding." Ascian mutters as his body begins to tremble at the rhythm of the machine, almost throwing him around in the cockpit, were it not for the two belts that cross along his chest. He has to press his mouth firmly together to stop himself from biting his tongue. His head was not so lucky in general however, as the back of his head hits the top of the seat and a sharp pain suddenly shoots through the young man's body. He sharply inhales. .oO(Stop! You damn thing!)Oo. The train is beginning to slow down. Whilst at the same time the kinetic force finally reaches a level where the homing beam array has gathered so much energy that it must unload. And the target has been selected. Rebel was still alive after all! So, much like before, lasers blast off - from several directions, whilst the train begins to slow down.

The GREMLIN remotes streak back to the NEXT as it tries to outpace 9-Ball. It can do that easily enough, but it doesn't have much time. Samuel calls up a timer in the corner of his display, watching it tick down in angry red as they approach the civilian dome. The two recharging ports report that they've caught the remote weapons, and he switches the suit back into it's normal operating mode before his head gets any worse.

"Okay... you're as good as they say you are," he says, suddenly out of breath. Sam takes a literal breather, guiding the NEXT with a little effort and relaxing otherwise. The headache from the psychic stress starts to fade--and that's all he wants. The shoulder cannon assembly swings forward over his shoulder, a split-barrel weapon pointed at the 9-Ball. Green-white particles of the same sort that makes up his Primal Armor swirl down the section between the half-cylindrical 'rails,' gathering at a brilliant white pinprick at the front of the weapon. It gives off a green radiance, illuminating the tunnel even as they shoot it to hell.

"Thirty percent... it'll have to do," Sam mutters. He lines up his shot while 9-Ball is "down" and pulls the trigger. The weapon pulses, striking the gathering charge. The bright white and green flashes through the air, trailing particles of the same color that fade quickly behind the particle weapon's shot. Wherever it connects, it bursts into a suddenly immense concentration of Kojima particles, the corrosive and toxic things vaporizing anything in it's blast radius and contaminating and slowly degrading anything nearby.

Geiger counters go fucking /crazy/.

Rebel 316 grits his teeth as he makes nis next moves, his wont is to remain, for all appearances, calm and completely unconcerned, but he definitely is losing track of both those ideals. He keeps the Nineball moving, running, boosting and jump from car to car, taking out the occassional phantoma with plasma rifle fire, while weaving a serpentine pattern between the surreal weaving homing lasers being launched at him from the enginecar.

Fighting for control as the heaving train causes his AC to fly from it's footing, requiring expert use of booster control to avoid being thrown free, Rebel tires another shot at the artillery piece that has fired on him, though unsuccessfully, since the beginning, he lands deftly in the center of a car, only one back from a car flagged as containing cargo, drops pylons and fires a salvo.

With a hideous squeal of metal joints as Rebel uses his attunement to his machine, a side effect of the humanPLUS project, and is able to squeeze a little more, than should be possible, out of his baby. One leg kicks up, and then kicks out, spinning the Nineball around 180 degrees to regain a firing solution on Samuel. He's unsure of where the Gremlins are, or if that's what he's firing at, but he smiles and flicks an ash into the ventilation fan as he depresses the thumbswitch and fires a second burst of grenades.

Rebel 316 is lit up like a christmas tree, while maintaining the position, having skipped over an important detail, of having all of his yellow paint peeled off by a radioactive death beam that grazes his unit, as a result of his timely crouching to use the pylons he normally eschews using. He curses NEXTs under his breath, sucking anxiously on his butt.

The laser continue to fire at the enemy who is so skillfully maneuvering around, dodging not one, not two, but three opponents at the same time. .oO(This guy is good)Oo. Ascian thinks to himself, staring at the trembling vid link. He can barely keep his eyes open at this point, and he can feel that he is getting sick - and a wet liquid is slowly trickling down the back of his head. He knew that the lightheadedness probably had to do with this. The train continues to screeel its metalic sound loudly as it continues to reduce velocity. "ETA: Ten seconds, Master." Duat announces the status again. "At this rate, we're not going to make it." How could he tell Duat what to say? His teeth are clattering, if he opened his mouth now, it would not end well.

So instead, he pushes all of his will into Amenthes. .oO(Please, Amenthes. Heed my call.)Oo. And as if it heard him, its wings which had continued to fire their lasers at Rebel so far, and let fly their last shot which had wrapped and warped around the bottom of the train - cutting off its wheels - to stab THROUGH the metal of the machine to reach him now... finally return to their wing-like shape. Immediately, metatron crystals purse out from between the folds. More and more of it, like some kind of unnatural reaction, growing the shining red transparent and irregular shapes. They emit a sickly red glow as it turns on the engines. "GOOOOO!" He couldn't hold himself, and shouts out at his machine.

The entire cockpit suddenly flushes with a red haze, and the world of the outside suddenly seems to disappear to the man inside. No more outside noises. No more trembling of his body. A gentle nothingness, in which a female body floats around him, like flames, carrying wings. He'd begun to know her as being Amenthes. She smiled at him. "[ansi(m,Finally protecting the innocent, my Ascian, dear? I knew there was good in you.)]" - then reaches in, puts her hands to his cheeks and kisses him on the forehead.

In the meanwhile, outside, the train is stopping! Red flares of energy dart through the machine - as if creating a new Orbital Frame; crushing electronics on the way. The tunnel suddenly ends, and they appear within the civilian dome, large buildings appearing on the horizon, and an industrial park on the forefront with many small houses riddled around the small trainstation. But the train was stopping! It truly was coming to a full stop. Some of the Phantoma LEVs end up falling off due to the sudden reduction in speed, getting crushed by the enormouse wagons that follow as the Orbital Frame in front of the Engine somehow manages to use its incredibly performance and energy to /halt/ this monsterous hulk of a transportation vessel.

And then finally... it is still. In front of it, the Amenthes too is motionless. Red energy staggeringly flowing through its body. Within... an unconcious and bleeding man, hands to the sides of his body, off of the controls.

<Radio: B - DC Tactical> Duat dutily reports; "Train has been halted. Status of framerunner: Unconcious. Requesting medical attention."

Insolent disappears in a cascade of fire again. This time, the NEXT reappears faster than it did before, the blazing Primal Armor-clad machine diving sideways out of the hail of death. The Armored Core crashes against the side of the tunnel and grinds away the bronze and grey color in sparks and smoke, throwing itself back the way it came. There's a flash of blue, and it goes in one side of the train... and comes out the other?

The Dragonslayer cleaves a hole in the car for him. By the time it grinds towards a stop, he's back on the roof with 9-Ball, the Kojima Cannon regaining it's charge with a growing, swirling ball of Kojima particles glowing in front of the deployed weapon. Insolent flies into the webwork holding up the tunnel and tries to get above the other AC, ready to fire.

The Gremlins fire from /below/, shooting up through the roof of the car from inside of it, carving into the roof and trying to disable the battered Armored Core. He must've dropped them when he disappeared inside of it!

Rebel 316 drops out of sight for a moment, into a crater blasted in the front car, he's not gone for long, definitely not having time to secure much if any cargo, an experimental new weapon model of some sort. The Nineball, a twisted horror of a machine now, hops back out, right into the cross fire from Ascian's batteries. The first hit for the piece, blasts the Armored Core almost to nothing, as Hustler One activates his boosts, just as the train comes to a grinding halt before it vaults out onto the city, he's struck by the geyser from below, the Nineball kicks it's already damaged foot hard, through the attack, causing it to seperate and fall into the blast, protecting the Nineball like an awkward shield as it zips out and away, seeking rendezvous with a nearby stealth transport. He makes a mental note to do better research on some of the personel encountered and lights up a smoke.

<Radio: B - DC Tactical> Samuel Flynn transmits, "Ngh... Duat, what's the status of the frame and the runner?"

<Radio: B - DC Tactical> Duat responds, "It appears that the runner, Master Ascian Luddite, is bleeding externally, and is unconcious. There may be internal bleeding too, due to the high resonance rate with the kinetic force of the Orbital Frame's shaking - caused by the friction with the ground and the massive momentum of the transport train." It first comments on the runner, then proceeds to speak of Amenthes. "The Orbital Frame itself has lost a severe amount of armor plating near the leg units, and is running low on power - though the latter will be generated over time due to the effects of the Metatron exoskeleton. Its energy patterns are however out of synch. I suggest transport to a nearby N.U.T. Facility for a proper diagnosis."

<Radio: B - DC Tactical> Samuel Flynn sighs. "Right. I'll get on that."

<Radio: B - DC Tactical> Duat transmits, "I appologize for the trouble. Master tends to make unreasonable demands - which lead up to things like this."

<Radio: B - DC Tactical> Samuel Flynn transmits, "It's alright, I gotta find a place to do some refits before I head back anyhow. And hey, long as he doesn't kill himself, should be alright."

<Radio: B - DC Tactical> Duat reports, "There was a 21.33% chance this action would have lead to his death."

<Radio: B - DC Tactical> Duat claims, "I am... unnerved by this behavior. I am tasked with protecting my runner, as well as the unit. He jeopardizes both. And I feel I would be..." It doesn't finish that sentence. Its programming doesn't quite allow for it to express such things. Since when do A.I.s 'feel' anything anyhow?

<Radio: B - DC Tactical> Samuel Flynn transmits, "Conflicted, lost, alone, something along those lines?"

<Radio: B - DC Tactical> Samuel Flynn transmits, "Better leave it for something to ponder while you're getting some repairs done. I'll make sure he gets medical attention when we get there."

<Radio: B - DC Tactical> Ascian Luddite transmits, "Duat hesitantly claims, "There is a 80% chance one of those words would be an adequate word for what I cannot describe.""

<Radio: B - DC Tactical> Samuel Flynn transmits, "Yeah, figured."

<Radio: B - DC Tactical> Samuel Flynn transmits, "Alright, I'm gonna need you to give the frame a little thrust; I'll guide it to the facility. Do you have the power to do that?"

<Radio: B - DC Tactical> Samuel Flynn transmits, "I don't want to open it up unless we've got medics on-hand."

<Radio: B - DC Tactical> Ascian Luddite transmits, "I will engage the wing and leg verniers."

<Radio: B - DC Tactical> Samuel Flynn transmits, "Thanks."

The NEXT's Gremlin remotes return to the docking station, reattaching with a soft chime. "Disable combat mode," Sam gasps, clutching his head again, this time his hands over his ears, trying to drown out... something, maybe just a sound he hears. Lights dim in the cockpit, and a soothing feminine voice plays from his center control console. "Objectives complete. Disengaging AMS. Combat mode disabled--entering standby mode."

The pressure lets up. Sam slowly opens his eyes. He can hear his heart pounding in his skull, a whump-whump-whump of noise that reaches his ears and slowly fades. His entire body aches from the sudden accelerations and being hit by explosives like that. He feels like he's got a bruise all over. And maybe like he's gotta throw up, but that he can't so much explain.

Samuel takes the manual controls, murmuring into his radio. He guides the reverse-jointed NEXT over to the Orbital Frame, the shorter machine jumping up and hooking it's arm around the Frame's midsection. He relies on his powerful boosters and equally potent powerplant along with the Frame's AI's cooperation to get airborne, taking off into the sky.

Or maybe just the skyline, Sam thinks. The two mobile weapons turn towards the navigation point on Insolent's map and get moving. Ascian's probably hurt pretty bad. He's unconscious in there..

Sam kind of wishes he were unconscious.

Norris Packard machine finally comes back online, he's suffered a bad hit, and it had been unable to move. While Rebel had got the item he was after the rest of the cargo and the station had been saved. The DOM gets back on line and he readios "Good work, I'll help with Ascain's machine. There's a reason you should never discount even Trailer Mercenaries. If they have lasted a time it means they can back up their mouth."