Shadows of Corneria IC

[Makori]

Clyde huffed at Bohdan's words, but otherwise didn't say anything, simply striding out after the party once he broke his glare at Nerano.  Down below, the bar had emptied out after Don Torres had left, and Gustav watched them carefully from the bar, a hand clutched around a slug pistol under the counter.  Clyde didn't shoot the bear a single glance.

Outside, he clambered up into his own Howler recon car, an old army vehicle retired after the end of the Lylat Wars.  Though replaced by the superior Rovmaster hover buggy, Clyde preferred a vehicle that you didn't need a pilot's license to use, and the four tires on the ground meant that if it suddenly lost power it wouldn't careen out of control.

He glanced up, rolling down the window as he called out to the others "Y'all got a ride?  Got room."  Indeed, Clyde's Howler had three more seats, four if one counted the turret seat and two more hotseats in the bed.

[Shmibli7]

Nerano heard Clyde's words as he approached his hoverbike. He paused, thinking to himself. 

If I get in with him, I can find his ticks. He pondered. He quickly threw a device manufactured by the CDF which shrunk the bike into a small box which he put in his pocket.

"I think I'll take you up on your offer." The fat-tailed gecko said, coming his way.

[Arminius H O Fiddywinks]

The four man team left the bar, back in the intense sun. Sandor saw the assassin shrink his motorbike to the size of a toy, and put it in his pocket.

"Now, that's just god-modding," he said.

"Alex, who are you talking to?" asked Elizabeth, who noticed Sandor speaking to nobody in particular.

"Nobody that concerns you, Erzsebet," replied Sandor. Elizabeth scoffed, and entered the front passenger seat o the team's jeep. Korben followed suit, going inside and mounting the heavy blaster. Sandor went in as well, taking the wheel. Bohdan sat in the back passenger seat. Sandor turned on the vehicle, and away they went.

[Clearwater]

The morning mist of the jungle that had formed a few hours ago slowly began to dissipate as Sal and Spector made a steady pace to wherever the beacon they were picking up was coming from. After yesterday's encounter, Sal didn't exactly fancy showing off and freerunning through the trees. Instead, he followed the directions in which Spector went, keeping his twitching wings at the ready should something or someone try and ambush them.

''It's coming from this way,'' Spector remarked, and turned a sudden ninety degrees. Sal huffed, growing impatient. He couldn't wait until he was safe to get back up into the trees and have no fear of being someone's target.

Another half an hour passed of suddenly switching directions and to some extent, backtracking.

''Are you sure you can trust that thing?'' Sal asked, growing bored again.

''Would do if it get a proper fix.'' Spector replied, deciding to bash the side of the reciever in a little bit. Bad choice. It started to spazz out.

''Merda!'' Spector cursed in his native language, before huffing. ''Well, there goes that... Last I saw, it was still picking it up west of here. Good thing there's not far to go now, I think one or two more kilometres... before...''

Spector trailed off. Sal wondered why, before noticing that there was a battle taking place up ahead. Spector craned his beck to try and see.

''No, no! Get down!'' Sal hissed. Spector did as commanded. The two macaws hid behind a small ridge where they were well in cover, and tried to see what was going on. All they could make out was mechs of some kind that were completely wiping out a ground team of troops.

''Should we help?'' Spector asked. Sal thought for a little while on this question. If they did help out, chances are that they'd get blown off their feet. And not in a good way.

''Probably not. We don't know who're the good guys and the bad guys, and plus, if whoever's left by the time we step in decide they don't like us, then we'll be in deep crud. Let's skirt around this place.''

Spector followed Salto as he led the way. But just over halfway from making it out of this area unseen, there was a loud yell from someone. Sal looked up, to see that someone had spotted them, and was signalling.

''Oh maldito.'' Spector grunted. ''Run. RUN!!''

Dodging the shots that were being fired at them, the macaws legged it as quickly as they could out of there. Spector flew up into the air, while Sal got back into the freerunning habit and launched himself from tree to tree. The higher he went, the less chance he had of being seen.

[Makori]

Clyde’s Howler groaned as he pulled at the gearshift, pulling out onto the main road.  While his driving in combat conditions could be considered acceptable, his lack of experience driving a ground car in peacetime was definitely not, and several other vehicles honked at them as he steered haphazardly around them.  Up top, the gatling gun mounted to the top bobbed back and forth. 

One might wonder why a single mercenary with a surplus outdated combat vehicle might be allowed a heavy repeater, until one remembered that there were mercenary groups running around with fighters and cruisers, and thus put the whole thing out of mind.

“Spaceport’s just on the other side of town,” Clyde said as he peeled around another elbow, pedal almost to the floor.  “If we’re lucky, we can get there –without- stumbling into a gang war.”

Several vehicles back, a trio of grav-bikes slowly began to close in, all three bearing the insignia of none other than the Road Hawgs.

 

*****************************

Fortuna

“Get ‘em!” yelled Sergeant Harker, firing his Armsman up into the trees.  Around him, four other Rangers had their weapons trained into the canopy as well, though only the riflemen were actually firing, the one with his missile launcher holding until he could get a clear target…

“Cease fire!  Cease fire!” yelled Captain Bronson, reaching up and shoving Harker’s rifle aside.  The Dalmation scanned the treeline again, his helmet’s HUD picking out shapes from the foliage.  “Shit, are you out of your gourd, Sergeant?  Do those look like Rebs to you?”

Harker, a bulldog, shrugged in reply.  Bronson sighed, calling up to the trees.  “This is Captain Eugene Bronson, Cornerian Army Rangers!  We’re not here to hurt you, but this has become an active combat zone!  If you’re not willing to show yourself, I urge you to please get out of here!  Return to your homes!”

As if to underline his words, the Mule attached to Bronson’s squad let loose with its heavy weapons, cutting into the underbrush with streams of energy fire.

[Shmibli7]

Nerano glanced back at the bikes. "Might have a problem on our hands." He said. 

"Now, Mr. Busch. I hope that the minigun is loaded." 

He knew what he said wouldn't sit well with Busch but he wanted to se his reaction.

[Makori]

Clay adjusted the rearview mirror, biting back a curse as he spotted the grav-bikes.

"Guess these guys are serious about turf.  Yeah, you're weapons free, Scaly!"  With the flick of a thumb, he armed the gatling, listening to the energy flow to the heavy weapon.  "Hang on!"

With that, the quarter-horse twisted the combat car, slamming a commercial hauler off the road as he steered down a side road.  At the same time, he armed another system on the car, flipping up the cover on the panel before firing it off.  From under the Howler's rear bumper, a pair of mines emerged, slipping onto the road briefly before their magnetic locks slammed onto the grav-bikes, which had also sped up to chase them.  After a few seconds, both discs detonated, sending bolts of raw energy out into the vehicles and frying the riders.  The bikes shorted out before careening into the ground, turning end over end in the alley.

Clay laughed.  "Loved that move in the war!  Can't believe the damn army ever got rid of these things!"

Abruptly, however, a chorus of slugs and plasma striking the armored door drew his attention over, and he sped up again as another trio of bikes cut around the corner.

[Shmibli7]

Nerano chuckled as the display of destruction continued. He Unholsters his revolver and aims down sights and lines up a shot. When he was sure of himself, he took it. A magnum round lands in a biker's skull, causing him to fall off of his bike. He then turned to another and began aiming.

[Arminius H O Fiddywinks]

The blaster fire and gunshots echoed throughout the settlement. Bohdan turned around to see what was going on, but this effort was futile. Clyde and Nerano were nowhere to be found. He assumed that they took another turn to avoid whoever was shooting at them. "Stay on your guard," Bohdan ordered. An orchestral cocking and whirring of blasters could be heard in the vehicle then and there. Elizabeth slowed down as she approached a checkpoint of Nutrian (otters) soldiers, their army green uniforms and green Brodie helmets blending in with the vegetation. Their blaster rifles appeared elongated, yet light: one of them was holding it with one hand, the barrel raised towards the sky. When Elizabeth stopped the vehicle in front of the checkpoint, this soldier approached her window. His diminutive 5"7' stature was exaggerated by the proportions of his blaster. The straps of his Brodie helmet hung lazily by the sides of his head.

"Hello, hello," he said with a thick Tagalog accent. Foreigners, Selachii (sharks), and Aves (birds) native to Zoness, who along with the Nutrians lived on the other side of the world, called the Nutrians "Tags". "Identification, please," he asked. The polite soldier wiped his nose with his left index finger. Another Nutrian soldier was mounted on the heavy blaster hidden in the sentry box. He sat on a stool, and was reading a Cornerian Sciences magazine, specifically the research into the cure for Zengina's Disease (ALS), for which his cousin suffered from. Another two soldiers were walking up and down the electronically controlled barrier, which could be raised and collapsed in the street. They talked about how they could efficiently spread their paychecks out over the course of the month. As they reached one end of the barrier, they turned around and walked to the other end. As it was a rather small avenue, this happened multiple times over the course of a few minutes.

Elizabeth took the identification cards and papers of all present in the vehicle: Bohdan's, her's, Sandor's and Korben's. It listed them under different names, and as private military contractors working for the Aves government of Prime Minister Gianna Bassani. Bassani's parliament was full of opposition MPs, MPs who would do anything to get her out of the office of Prime Minister, even hiring trained killers. So, in turn, Bassani herself hired other killers to dispose of the killers hired by the opposition. Capitalizing on this deadly game, Elizabeth forged Bassani's signature on their papers, identifying them as part of her private army, although those exact words, "private army", were nowhere to be found on the papers. Instead, the team was listed as part of her "protection detail". But in all honesty, it was quite possible that Bohdan, Elizabeth, Korben, and Sandor did not even need the papers, and instead could have paid these soldiers to let them through. However, they were in no mood to waste money for a toll.

After a few moments of brief checking, the Nutrian soldier gave the papers and cards back. "Okay, you're clear Miss," he said. Elizabeth nodded. The barrier was lowered via button that was pushed by the magazine-reading soldier, and down the road they continued. The barrier was raised once more.

[Clearwater]

Spector leapt out of the way just before one of the energy bolts cut him in half.

"Not here to hurt me, my ass!" He exclaimed to Sal up above him. "What'd we do?!"

"Trespass on someone's war, it seems." Sal replied, leaping up to a branch and hiding behind the trunk of the tree, waiting to see if the shooting would die down any time soon. It didn't. Sal took another moment to think things through. The beacon they were receiving wasn't too far from here now, but Sal and Spector still had no idea if it was a trap or not. Maybe if he could 'persuade' these guys to let them go...

"Hold your goddamn fire!'' Sal suddenly yelled, much to the bewilderment of Spector. " If you want us to come out, then let us come out instead of trying to disintegrate us!"

Spector mounted to Sal: What are you doing?!

Let me handle it, Sal mouted back, jumping down from the tree and landing next to Spector. He then emerged from cover, his wings raised to prove he meant no harm. Spector followed, having no idea what they were trying to do.

Sal slowly took his knife out and tossed it to the ground in front of him to prove he wasn't going to surprise attack them at any point.

"You wanted us to come out, here we are," Sal said in a fairly accented English. "My name's Salto Gelado, and this here's Spector. Me and him served on the Retribution's Thunder a few months ago, but that's not the reason we're here. Now, who is your leader?"