Mech Wars: New Age of War
 

Sign ups and dicussion go here

A Shinobi model arrises out of the shadows. It signals the others to move into position. They quickly make to each of there locations. They draw their blades and in unison cut homes into the walls of the enemy structures and quickly toss in explosives. Immediately the sirens sounded and the compound sprung to life. The shinobi quickly jumped back into the shadows as the enemies remaining mechs emmerge to lauch a counter-strike.

Algernon climbed into his mech's cockpit. His hands slipped on the controls and his knees were shaking. A thousand thoughts crashed together in his head.
Why am I a pilot; I wanted to be an engineer? How much different will it be destroying mechs with human pilots? Did I remember to eat dinner tonight?
One thought in particular kept repeating, worrying him more than anything else, even the fire he was entering: Where is Commander Kirasawa?
Al was clear of the ruined base. He thought he saw a shadow coming towards him. He directed a volley of machine gun fire at it and kept moving toward the rondevous point. Maybe his commander--his only hope of surviving his first real combat--would be there.
I hope that smell means someone washed this thing with ammonia...

Elsewhere in the world, yet not so far away, another city slept soundly, at least for a few more minutes.

Without a warning, a ghostly grey mech appeared at the edge of the city, along the eastern road. Adjusting the aim of the laser rifle minutely, the vanisher magnified the view on the scope and pulled the trigger.

For those with the odd luck of being there at that moment forever seemed to come and go as a beam of light shot forth from the mech's weapon with a deafening silence. The laser pierced through the corners of several buildings until it finally hit it's target; a large "hidden" weapon factory, and though the resulting explosion was small it was enough to send people into a panic.

For a moment, the Vanisher stood still, as if the pilot was in a daze, but then the sirens went off and it was forced to retreat. Inside the cockpit, the man clenched his fist and silently thought, The signal has been given. In but mere seconds, this city would also erupt in chaos.

"Damnit-damnit-shit-shit-shit!" Megumi Kirasawa said through clenched teeth as she fiddled with her bra. "As of yet unidentified mechs WOULD have to attack on MY day off, wouldn't they?!"

It took a full five minutes to finish changing, which was roughly two minutes more than she had hoped, and in less than ten more, she was already seated in the cockpit of the Gundam. "Which otaku's idea was it to make mechs that looked like Gundams, anyways? I'd like a four-legged Armored Core myself, but whatever. I need to get out there." She set up her freguency as she fastened the seat harness and neurohelmet to her head. "Algernon, how's it going out there? Damnit, I can't believe this shit is happening on my day off. Would you believe I had to cancel my date with Yusuke at the mall and movies?! I sure hope he understands. I'll be out there in less than five, if these operatives can hurry things the hell up, over."

Japan was a good country to live in. It had some of the top research and developing teams on the planet, a steadilly growing economy, and most of all (in Deryl's mind) the top exporter of games in the world. Unfortunately, it was also a strategic location to mount assaults on China and the Pacific Islands, as well as America to an extent.

This is why, when word of an American plan to take over Japan reached Germany, his leaders made haste to be sure they secured the country first. May you rest in peace, you unknowing souls of my victims.

The city Deryl had struck at was along the coastline, yet not apparently important enough for the Japanese government to defend properly, and with only confused Gundam models rushing to the defence, the German Vanishers had no trouble in taking down the counterstrike.

Beams fired all around him, and his expertly trained unit buried the enemy mechs with barrage and debris. Within fifteen minutes the area was secure, and the naval fleet was signalled to dock.

Still, it seemed too easy. Later on, he would find out that at the same time America had launched an assault at the same time they had, at a much higher profile district. For now though, he would nervously wait as ships unloaded their cargo in preparation for an invasion.

The Shinobi hid in the shadows. Their leader poked his head over the rocks to see. "So a few wanna fight. Ok then lets give them a fight." He leeps out silently from the rocks. Drawing his blade he cut clean through a gundam. As the severed mech fell to his feet he looked around. "Next" he says this single word as he continues his attack

a British insertion sub slowly advanced on the Italian coast.

unlike the clunky, cigar-shaped submarines of yore, the BNIS class sub was shaped like a giant Manta ray, only narrower. matte navy blue, loaded with every kind of stealth that was workeable, it was specifically designed to quickly move British mechs into position before the enemy could react. it could carry up to 30 BMD-R (British Mech Division - Ray) units.

however, the BNIS-422-A, christened the Suicidal Insanity, was not carrying Rays.

assigned to the patchwork squad knicknamed "mish-mash" in the mess-rooms, it was carrying a mech unit comprised almost entirely of reconstructed Mechs salvaged from former battles, all of foreign Design. Shinobis, Glorys, Gundams, a vanisher or two, three kalamari, and One Apocalypse, the squad had been formed when the British Mech-yards simply couldn't keep up with the demand.

however, before the spysats had been blown out the week before, shots showed what appeared to be a mech yard in lower Italy. the British decided to take the yard to step up their production.

hence, Mish-mash squadron was prepping in the ocean somewhere south of Martina Franca, still getting used to the foreign designs.

Jack Donhees let out a curse under his breath, trying to figure out which switch did what.

the week before, he'd recieved a notice from his superior officer, telling him he'd been reassigned to pilot a captured Russian Apocalypse. he'd had misgivings, but agreed in the end. now he wished he hadn't; in typical russian Fashion, they'd opted to make as many of the damned things as quickly as possible rather than make it easy to use.

complete piloting difference between a manta-ray like megajetsub and a mobile weapon platform on legs notwithstanding, there was the fact that all the labels were in russian. some tech had taken the time to stick post-it-notes to the panels and write out the english translation in black sharpie, true, but the damn things kept coming off. also, whereas a Ray's control panel was designed for efficiency in mind, the russian designers of the Apocalypse had stuck levers and switches everywhere. and in sharp contrast to the polished lines and smooth tooling of a ray, the apocalypse was incredibly crudely designed.

ah, well. he'd just transfer out first chance he got. his brooding was interrupted, however, as the earpiece connecting him to the other pilots crackled.

"Mix-four, you ready?"

stifling another curse, jack tapped the button on his headset. "I will be in a minute. the ruskies need to lay off the hookah when they design their bloody mech cockpits, this thing looks like a tin forest made by an abstract artist on goofballs."

"yeah, hurry up, five minutes to deploy point."

Jack muttered something unintelligible, sliding on a Pilot helmet. the VR goggles and HUD lense slid down and activated. now, in addition to seeing through the optical sensors mounted on the "head" of the Apocalypse, there was an armor integrity readout, fuel readout, and ammo count in easy view.

"Just like a game . . ." he shook his head and buckled the restraints.

after a second, the squad sounded off. afterwards, there was a slight shudder as the elevator lifted the Apocalypse to the top of the sub, where it could move onto the beach.

the movement stopped. the goggles now showed the top of the sub, where twenty-four other foreign mechs stood.

"Alright, Mix squad," said the commander, "you know your mission. destroy the defenses of the Mech yard discovered at Martina Franca and take it over. if that is impossible, destroy the yard by any means possible. Frankly, Britain needs more Mechs; but if we can not get them, we need to slow the production of any more. May the Queen's Blessing be with you."

Jack leaned the locomotion levers forward. he, and the other heavy-hitters, had a simple mission; destroy any obvious defenses. the rest could take out anything else. thankfully, the italians had not built up huge defenses.

this would be fun.

Suddenly, two lines of vulcan cannon rounds appear vertically along the Shinobi's frame, knocking the mech back. A Gundam rushes toward it. "You're mine, ass!" Megumi's voice was loud and clear as her energy swords slashed at the confused mech at a cross-cut fashion. The Shinobi was fast, but reacted too late and lost its left arm, then tripped over its leg and slammed into the ground. One stabbing of an energy blade through the cockpit later, and the offender wasn't getting back up.

"Bring it up, Algernon Unit. Their lines are stretched a little too thin. I need some cover to survey the terrain a bit and get my tactics together. Priority is given to holding this area so the non-combatants can escape. I repeat, our goal is not the destruction of all enemy units. We must secure and sustain a route for the non-combatants to escape through. Depending on the number of enemy units here, the commander will decide if we try to mount and offensive or evacuated and self-destruct the base."

Megumi surveyed the team. Misono, one of the two Kalamari pilots, was the first to rise up against the attacks...and the first to die by the strike. Megumi hated Shinobi models. Unlike the American and German mechs, the Japanese didn't particularly have any mechs capable of crossing the border undetected, or crossing the border at such a fast speed that detection is simply too late to avoid major damage. Like Russia's industry for the war machines, both the Gundam and Kalamari models were designed for battle. Megumi sighed and figured that Japan was so restricted to battle mechs because the JDF still held true to its nature of being a purely defensive military force. Megumi thought that was really fuckin' stupid, especially since America was no longer their ally. Shit, the Shinobi model she just put down proved that much on its own. Megumi sighed inwardly and keyed up the transmitter.

"Kirisawa Unit Commander to Transport Team Alpha. Zone is clear. I repeat, zone is clear. Move your asses, drivers, 'cause I don't know how long it'll stay that way, over."

"This is Transport Team Alpha to Kirisawa Unit Commander. We copy. We should be to minimum safe distance in five minutes, over."

"This is Kirisawa Unit Commander. Roger that. Over and out."

Megumi's Gundam put away her energy swords and took out her energy rifle, keying up her squad. "Look alive, boys. I want all hostiles that get too close to regret it, big time."

OOC: "Kirisawa's unit is composed of her Gundam, Ashernon-san's Gundam, one more Gundam, and two Kalamari mechs. One of those Kalamari's is dead, thanks to Aerozord's strike."

Barely out of the base, Al's mech stood behind a row of fleeing transports. If anyone asks, I was guarding the transports. Of course, it wasn't true. Soon after reaching the rondevous point, he had seen Misono torn to pieces by the blades of an enemy. I'm. A. Mechanic! Why am I out here? He had fled to the base and hid. Megumi was radioing him. He radioed the other Gundam pilot. Why didn't I learn his name... "Uh... Gundam three, you heard her. Move up and defend those transports." He's had more combat experience than me, why am I ordering him?
The transports had moved too far down the road for Al to say that he was guarding them. Now he had to move if he didn't want to be seen as a coward, or worse, a traitor. Reluctantly, he started his mech foward. He couldn't see any enemy units, but he knew that was no indication that the weren't there. In English, he muttered to himself, "Shinobi, shadow; why'd they use our words for their mechs? Stupid things could be called "Shadows" or "Stealths" or something like that..."
The battle seemed to have moved farther from the base from the distant explosions. Al worried about his commander and the other pilots: were they safer or in more danger than the transports he was "guarding?" He saw the third Gundam on the road ahead. "Anything happen up here?"
"Yes sir. Two Shinobi attacked this route since you last radioed. I fought them off and disabled one. I'm not sure of their battle plan."
"Good work. Umm, I'll t-take p-point. You stay h-here and guard the rear."
"Yes sir!"
Al glided to the front of the line. Great, now I'm on the front line and I'm gonna die. I hope that the other pilot doesn't remember me as a stutterin coward. Assuming he'll survive. I need to radio Kirasawa.
He put the radio to his mouth and called. "Ma'am, I'm moving to the front of the convoy of fleeing transport trucks. May I know your coordinates and how goes the battle?"

Deryl gripped his accelerator and started his machine forward. Stage two had started, and now an advance force of five Vanishers, designated "Fading Star". Deryl had been chosen as one of the pilots to be in the scout unit, placed as the point. To save energy, cloaks were turned off, and weapons were set on standby. Radio silence was to maintained.

The loud sound of manmade machines could be heard for miles away; he assumed that anyone left in this area had been evacuated, and that enemy units laid in ambush. Nervously, a hand wavered constantly over the cloak control, ready to burst into action at all times.

Deryl was an experienced gamer. He knew that at any time opponents could find you and attack from any direction. It was a situation he had had to deal with many times, only this time there was no such thing as respawning.

Every movement had to be carefully made, and everything had to be monitered carefully. That was the duty of the Fading Star advance scout unit.

Travelling along a paved road, he knew quite well that they could and would be easily spotted. He just didn't know when a strke would be made against them. Five minutes later, as a wave of missiles were detected on the sonar, flying from all around the Fading Stars.