Chapter Text
“The bandit’s vanguard has begun moving into the forest, begin the ambush at my mark.”
“I’ll take the rear, mind taking the front Ishmael?”
“Heh, the same thing we always do then Blake, you snipe, Meursault leads, and I cut them to ribbons.”
“Just make sure that you keep some of their parts relatively intact, I want to see what I can salvage from them.”
“Cease unneeded radio chatter, enemy has begun to approach our location, we will not have long before reinforcements arrive.”
Three mechs stood concealed behind a large outcropping of rock near a forest. One wielding a collection of various swords, daggers, and other melee focused weaponry in its arms, and being painted orange and black. The second was painted a muddy green, having a heavy machine gun in its only hand, replacing its other arm with a blade, and bearing a mortar on its back. The final mech was a dust colored walker that wielded a heavy sniper rifle and several missile pods.
Slowly emerging from more dense flora came the bandits vanguard, a multitude of bandits wielding assault rifles and wearing whatever armor they could find beginning to stream forth in groups, while a mostly scrap mech emerged, painted white and only bearing a worn down assault rifle.
“Ishmael, begin the assault, target the enemy squads in front of the enemy mech.” Spoke Meursault in his green walker.
“With glee!” Spoke the orange haired man, rushing from behind cover with a sudden kick from his mechs jets. “You can’t stop me!” He yelled through his mechs speakers as he leapt upon the surprised bandit rabble, tearing the first few into ribbons with but a stray stab as they panicked.
“Shit! Where the fuck did he come from!” Screamed a bandit.
“Shoot him damn you! None of you have even a child's spine!” Yelled the man in the scrap mech as Ishmael continued to tear through the enemy forces. Even as their commanders yell however, the bandits were only able to rally enough to do pitiful damage at most.
“Might have wanted to take cover instead eh big guy?” Whispered Blake as he stepped out from the rock and began to backpedal, taking a shot at the enemy mech while he did so. Fortunately for the bandit (or unfortunately for Blake) the shot barely missed, whistling barely over the mech's head.
“Damn fools! Move forward with me!” Beginning to move past the whirlwind of blood that was where Ishmael was fighting, he attempted to use his worn rifle to fire at him, only for the bullets to go wildly off course. Following him was a small collection of bandits that he had managed to rally to him. But before they could truly rally, a single mortar shell screaming down impacted the center of the squad, with shrapnel or simply the blast itself quickly rendering the entire squad a pile of corpses. “Whoever fired that, ill kill you!” The pilot shouted in anger.
“Unlikely, given your incompetence.” Said Meursault as he also began to clear from cover. “Your chances of seeing the sunrise of tomorrow are simply nil.”
“Let me try sir, I want to use the machine gun!” An excited young voice came from one of the speakers inside the cockpit.
“Let me burn him! Let me show him my power!” Another voice came from another speaker, this one more brash but still young.
“Current operation is a training opportunity for the two of you, continue observation for now, and I will assist you later.” Meursault said to the two NHP’s he had onboard, taking aim for the few bandit rabble left that were attempting to escape Ishmael with his machine gun. But even as he mowed them down, Ishmael had already begun to move again.
“You can't escape me! Not with a mech that can't even shoot straight!” Quickly catching up the scrap mech, the enemy pilot barely had time to panic before he was rapidly cleaved in two as Ishmaels sword carved through the mech, causing it to fall over as it was separated from its waist.
“The rest of the enemy force approaches, Ishmael, cull the weak amongst them, Blake, set up your cover, then use your missile pods for an initial bombardment.” Spoke Meursault as he began to head towards Blakes position.
“Got it boss man, covers going up.” Reaching into a back compartment, Blake tossed out two pieces of cover that rapidly extended upwards, prepared to defend him from any enemy fire.
“Main enemy force should be arriving now.” Just as Meursault spoke, a new group of enemies walked out from the forest. Yet more bandit infantry walked out, along with a single man in power armor, with entirely different, and of higher quality insignia. The most worrying however, was the much larger mecha, with a missile rack replacing its left arm, and a heavy machine gun on its right arm.
“So your the cause of the racket I heard, im the boss here, now -” He was never able to finish his sentence before missiles roared down upon him and the forces he had brought with him, leaving only him alive
“Amend those orders, Ishmael, cripple his legs, Blake, aim to kill.” Spoke Meursault, as he began to fire his heavy machine gun again, ripping through several parts of the enemy mech, though its armor kept some damage at bay.
“Best actually hit this shot.” Spoke Blake, having reloaded his rifle. The shot itself echoed around the area as its crack was followed by a small internal magazine detonation. It had scored a direct hit on the rocket pods. “Now that's a good one!”
“Got your legs!” Came another shout as Ishmael slid by the much larger mech with his blade, cleaving off the mech's legs from their knee joint down.
“Dammit!” Came a quick shout from the still reaction mech pilot, firing a wildly inaccurate salvo from his gun that struck nothing. “I’ll have your heads!”
“Nope.” A finishing statement came from Blake, who put a bullet directly through the head of the larger mech, painting some of the forest behind him with red and gray.
“Enemies have perished. Battle recording completed. We have succeeded, well done.” A quick rattling off of statements were said by Meursault, as if he simply said them out of obligation even if the other two knew he meant well by it. “Blake, salvage what you can. Please do not break anything he deems salvage Ishmael, those parts look useful.”
Blake rapidly went over to the larger mech, disregarding the heavily destroyed scrap mech and the small equipment of the infantry. Tearing it open with his tools, he rooted through its internals, before managing to find the origin points of its autoloaders. Disconnecting what he could through the damage caused by the internal detonation, he ripped them out for later use, but not before finding something interesting. A tablet slightly below the now pasted head of the enemy pilot. Cracking its password easily with his mech's support, he quickly began to flip through its information, before his eyes widened. “Hey boss, you might wanna take a peek at this!”
“Allow me to see.” Meursault walked over swiftly before looking at the tablet in Blake’s extended hand. On it were 3 main things of note. A shipping manifest, one of the shipments that these bandits had stolen. The only truly noteworthy thing about it was that it came from after the colony of Dagoth had increased its security. The second was a location, that of the bandits base. The third was the most anomalous however, a bunch of code that constantly shifted. Deleting and recording itself constantly, as if alive.
“We should focus on reporting our success, and moving on to terminate the bandit base. As strange as the code is, it is currently harmless.” Said Meursault, before his mech turned north towards the colonial capital. “Follow quickly, we may yet still keep the element of surprise.” As he began to move north, the other two fell behind him, and together they quickly moved towards the capital.
Hours later, they had arrived to little fanfare, the people in the capital city mostly either at work or at home, and they had made little announcement of their arrival. Heading to the capitol buildings, they went into the primary administrative building after temporarily dismounting their mechs.
“Mission has been completed. Bandit boss and cohort ambushed in forest and eliminated.” Spoke Meursault to the current administrative worker, a blond haired woman who looked pressured due to the presence of 3 lancers.
“That's good to hear! They shouldn't be bothering us again!.” She said with tenuous excitement stifled by an inkling of fear.
“Now Missy, we found some interesting stuff for you to see. A shipping manifest that they stole, and the location of their base.” Said Blake as he showed her the tablet.
“I- um.’ She stuttered. “I'm sorry but I'll have to call my boss, this is too advanced for me.”
It took another while as she glanced between them and the phone, occasionally stuttering as she explained the situation to her. It was another minute or so before an elevator nearby dinged, as another woman entered the room.
“So they have a base out there eh? Well, consider this you lot, I'll pay you half of the total payment again to take it out, shouldn't be hard with their boss dead should it?” She spoke, gesturing as she did.
“Now hold on there, we don't know what things they've got in there. Mechs? Tanks? Explosives? We ain't going in without a full payment again to take it out.” Blake drawled out as he met the administrator's eyes.
“Deal. Now I expect them dead, so don’t disappoint me.”
“We repair and move at dawn, ready for an interior battle, based on the depictions of this map.” Meursault said to the other lancers.
“Got it boss./Alright then!” Said Blade and Ishmael in Unison.