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Aged
That's MISTER Lag Monkey to you.
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 Posted - Nov 25 2002 : 10:47:45
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Aged's transport had begun its docking sequence with the orbital base. He had been "summoned" by Arcane to come inspect Arcane's latest project. Despite all of Aged's objections, Arcane had insisted that Aged come in person - he'd even sprung for the transport fare.
As Aged waited for the planetary lift, he checked his message pad - yep, he was still broke. What had happened? That question still haunted him - how had he managed to blow every C-bill he had? Aged stepped onto the lift car and began the descent planetside. What was so important that Arcane had sent for him?
Planetside, Arcane greeted him and the two old friends boarded a ground shuttle. They chatted idly for a bit, Arcane trying to be supportive of Aged's financial woes, but he refused to reveal the purpose of this visit - for now. The shuttle crested a hill and a huge factory began to come into view. Aged gave Arcane a quizzical look and Arcane nodded.
Once inside the factory, Arcane led Aged into a huge hangar and there it was - a beautiful new dropship, with the name "Geriatica II" emblazened on it's side.
"Nice! Does it have magnetic gyro bearings?"
Arcane nodded, smiling...
"Does this mean you plan to get us back in business?"
"Yes it does."
"Cool, but we'll need some mechs too. Where do you plan to get them?"
"Oh, I've already managed to acquire a few. Come see. I've got one in particular I want you to see."
They left the hangar and headed down a long hallway until they came to a door labled "Mechbay 1".
"Mechbay 1?"
Arcane smiled, "Yes, I've got 3 of them. One for lights, mediums and heavies. One for assaults. And one for experimentals and weapons system testing. This is the one for experimentals and weapons system testing."
They entered Mechbay 1 and there before them, stood a Bushwhacker in giraffe camo with Aged's coat of arms on the legs and Aged's "special friend" painted on the nose.
"What's this?"
Arcane, smiled and handed Aged a neuro-helmet, "Hop in and give her a try. There's a surprise for you in there that I think you'll like a lot."
Aged, still shocked at what he saw, grabbed the neuro-helmet and climbed the scaffold to the Bushwhacker's cockpit. He paused a moment to give "Dawn" a pat as he always did. He told people it was for luck, but actually he just liked getting a nice close up view. Once inside, he fired up the engine as a huge door opened to one side of Mechbay 1.
Arcane came over the coms channel. "Take her out to the practice field and give her a weapons test."
Aged shoved the throttle full forward and guided the Bushwhacker out the door at full speed. Arcane just shock his head. Old habbits die hard, he thought.
As the Bushwhacker entered the practice field and came into the sunlight, the canopy darkened a bit and Aged noticed some target drones far off in the distance.
"Target those drones with weapons system 1 and fire away!"
Aged swung the nose of the Bushwhacker around and brought one of the drones under the targetting reticle. As it went red, he squeezed trigger 1 and the Bushwhacker quivered with the recoil of the guns. A loud sound came through the neuro-helmet like that of a huge buzzsaw and Aged felt a tingling sensation between his legs.
"Ooooh baby!!!!!! I like that!!! What the heck did I just fire?"
"You like that?"
"Oh yeah"
"I thought you would. That's a new RAC gun. Nice, huh?"
"Wow! I think I'm in love."
"Check out your target."
"What target?"
"Exactly."
Aged swung the nose of the Bushwhacker around to target the nest drone and gave the trigger a good hard squeeze. The tingly sensation between his legs was wonderful and Aged just couldn't let go. After a few seconds the guns jammed.
"Hey!"
"Oh you can't keep it full on for very long or it jams."
"Couldn't you just fit a liquid nitrogen system on it?"
"Sorry, there wasn't enough room - unless we took out the extra ammo slots, and I didn't think you'd want that."
"No, you're right. So, you just have to kind of baby it a little, huh?"
"Yeah, just give it a burst and wait a second or two. It cools down again pretty quickly. The air coolers aren't bad, actually."
"I could get to like this, but I can't afford it, I'm sure."
"Well, maybe you could earn it. I didn't build that dropship just for show, you know."
"Huh?"
"I'm trying to get the OMO back in business again. You interested?"
"Sure. That gun is enough to get me to give up women and drinking."
Aged had found a new love...
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PacemakerOMO
The Florida Racer!
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Posted - Nov 25 2002 : 13:28:27
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The shock waves of Ageds meeting with Arcane spread through the Older ranks of the OMO, was it really possible? A reamergence of the OMO?Pacemaker;s heart started jumping with the anticipation of possiblities, he stumbled over to over to a cabinet in his office and pulled out a pair old earthen styled cowboy boots, still charred from the last time his mech went down in flames.
Tired of all the redtape and bureacratic wrangling from his last start up enterprise, Pacemaker sat down on the floor lost in his memories and recollections of a time of comadership with his fellow OMO's, yeah he thought ,I remember that time on Widowmaker,s Ridge we were pinned down by..............
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ButtcraxOMO
Administrator
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Posted - Nov 27 2002 : 11:02:43
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Oh!....And Buttcrax was there doing some stuff....
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I am Lancelot of Borg, Resistance is Feudal |
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Petrified-OMO
Taxing Patience
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 Posted - Nov 27 2002 : 12:52:47
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Meanwhile, in deep space...
Petrified pulled the throttle out more on his TransScoup. The small ship jittered and shook as another shock wave bathed it in the orange glow of nuclear flames.
"That was close. Too Close, their aim is improving" thought Petrified as he looked for more ways of pulling every last ounce of power from the scoup.
The Time Pirates were after Petrified with a renewed vengence. His forrays into their coveted trans-space were more than they could bear and they were after him. These readers of the fears of men were well known to any that survived an encounter: they were formless in the vast void that was trans-space; that time-space region almost forgotten and whose necessity was replaced by warp drives, formless until they needed to communicate. Their subsiquent form and shape would be that of those closest to you - a projection of emotion and feeling twisted by their own hatered for being disturbed.
Petrified knew better than to stray into trans-space, but he often found he had to. The effort to keep up on his business dealings was more pressing and the time saved by using trans-space was often worth the fear and terror engendered by the Time Pirates. He had a mission to fulfill and they seemed to know it too.
The part of the codex for the new interface the OMO planned to use in their future forrays was still hot in the drive memory of Petrified's Purrel-Comp. He just hoped that the risk was worth it.
"What the heck is that!?" thought Petrified as another Trans-Pirate craft coalessed from the deep black of trans-space.
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Petrified-OMO
Taxing Patience
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Posted - Dec 01 2002 : 19:30:29
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Made topic sticky
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Arcane
Administrator
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Posted - Dec 01 2002 : 22:18:56
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Uh... Petri... that is just DISGUSTING and a little MORE than I wanted to know!!!! 
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Novus Ordo Seclorum
Knowledge is power... has been since time eternal. Arcane knowledge is thereby ultimate power and can
therefore lead to ultimate corruption. Wisdom (and the experience that comes with age) is a serum for corruption.
Perhaps that is why there are so many Old Men with Arcane knowledge and so few young ones...
Arcane OMO - Circa 2001
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Dementia-OMO
Freak of Internet Gaming
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Posted - Dec 03 2002 : 09:38:11
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Dementia forgot where he was ... again..
but brought enough Beef Jerky for everyone!
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do i play this game too much???HELL YES! |
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Country: Antigua and Barbuda
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Festus-OMO
spoon
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Posted - Dec 03 2002 : 20:01:38
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"Just hold still a minute you frikin' baby!", Festus growled as he leaned over and held the mans head tightly between his right arma nd his torso.
"Mwaaaa, gurgle...." was all he heard as he concentrated at the task ot hand. The damn tooth had looked loose enough when he started, but it must have had hooked roots. Fes continued rocking it back and forth, adding a slight twist as his forceps held the crown of the tooth tightly.
"Goddammit", he muttered under his breath as the mans legs began to flail wildly, and his arms began to reach up to grab for Festus' own.
Suddenly and with a subtle "Snick", the tooth shot out of the socket. Fes brought it out and looked at it carefully as the man momentarily sagged back in the chair.
A moment later the patient started to rise up to leave when Festus straight armed him back into the chair, "Sorry Pal, I don't think we are done yet. Theres a root tip left behind".
Deftly wriggling free the man rolled off onto the floor and sprung to his feet. "Nuh poblem, leef it dere", he choked out as he reached into his pocket and threw a wad of c-bills in Festus' general direction.
"Gauze, you're gonna need some gauze, not to mention your face is a mess, come back here" Festus began, but his erstwhile patient wasted no time in putting distance between himself and the "doctor". Soon after he was out the door and the waitng room was empty.
Festus shrugged his shoulders, and turned back to the operatory. He carefully wiped all the surfaces down, cleaned and bagged his instruments and loaded them into the gamma sterilizer.
Normally his assistant would do this, but he had none. The last one had quit a few days ago.
She had objected to his habit of keeping instruments on her chest while he worked.
The room clean, instrumetns taken care off there was just one more surface for him to take care of. He jumped into a chair, tipped it back and reached for the remote with one hand and the Whiskey bottle with the other.
Casually he uncorked it with his teeth, and took a long slow draw on the bottle. It was good to unwind, sitting back in the chair and checking the Sports scores, stock market (too painful), and finally the news.
He logged onto COMSTAR and checked the newsgroups. Every once in awhile he caught an article on a Mercenary Action that mentioned one of his buddies.
He would see the names of several of the old group, Ginko, Batty, Aged, to name a few. EAch of them free-lancing. Picking up work with various outfits, making a living as an Independent Merc-for-hire.
Festus had turned his back on the whole business, sworn off the lifestyle, the reckless gamesmanship, and above all, the politics.
For the past year he had set up shop in this backwater, frontier world. He had dusted off the old Diploma, purchased second hand equipment, and hung out a Shingle, "Dr. F Smith, Oral Surgeon".
Behind his desk, he kept framed copies of his Degree program and his various Diplomas. No one here ever looked closely, at least not close enough to see that they were a collection of old Swimming Certificates and Ginsu Knive Lifetime Warrantys.
He flicked off the newsgroups, didn't recognize anyones name today, and accessed his messages.
Not that he needed to, no one had left him a message in over a year, and he wasn't expecting any, it was just a habit.
Fes' eyes opened a bit wider, he looked intently at the screen as he took another chug from the bottle. Goddam if there wasn't a message. His finger twitched and the messaged opened.
A vid screen opened and Festus was staring at a familiar face. "Took me long enough to find you, you dumb Canuck", chuckled talking head. "I have something you might be interested in, something I don't think you will want to miss.
It was Arcane.
"Just to tweak your imagination, have a look".
Arcnaes face faded and a scene came up, one showing a long hallway, very broad with extremely high ceilings. The left wall was of clear plasteel panes, and though it he caught a glimpse of a flat plain, a semi-arid landscape, and as the camera view panned left Fes thought he caught a glimpse of what he thought was a landing strut.
The view continued to Pan Left, until he could see the right wall. The Hallway appeared to continue at least 300-400 meters, broken on ocassion by doors. Big doors. With numbers on them. 1, 2, 3, he saw for sure, but couldn't tell if there were more or not.
Door 1, the closest, was 2/3s open. The sides had slid back from the center, and from the looks of it, the entrance (once the doors were fully open) appeared to be about 15 meters wide and at least as many high.
He saw a shadow moving in there, and heard a voice, a familiar one, speaking, " A bushy! Jumpin its beautiful!" Was that Aged?
"Good thing for the rest of you that I'm a crook, but YOUR crook", Arcanes voice played out during the scene. "Everyone thought we were broke, but for the last 5 years I was, ummmm, tucking money away in a safe spot".
"Come see what it bought, theres an open ticket waitng for you.....", and the scene faded away to be replace with intructions.
"Sumbitch", Festus stared as the message, replayed it, several times actually.
Dentistry was fun, but this.....this looked downright exhilarating. It took him all of 20 minutes to stuff a bag full of essentials. Another minute to hang a "Closed til Further Notice" Sign on the door, and Festus walked out.
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Work like you don't need the money. Love like you've never been hurt. Dance like nobody's watching.
-- Satchel Paige
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Edited by - Festus-OMO on Dec 03 2002 20:37:35 |
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Petrified-OMO
Taxing Patience
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Posted - Dec 03 2002 : 21:28:40
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Arcane's messege never truely made sense, and often Petrified wondered if Arcane were somehow confusing him with Aged.
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Petrified-OMO
Taxing Patience
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Posted - Dec 03 2002 : 21:43:20
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Suddenly Pertified realized the Time-Pirates were messing with his mind again. As the newer ship appeared before him he saw what looked like the Drop Ship Geriatrica. Pulling back on the controls the scoup shot down under the newest threat.
More than once he saw the Meson Beams ripple in space past the wildly gyrating scoup. 'Never, Never, Never again...' repeated Petrified under his breath.
The proposition Arcane had made with him was becoming more and more tantalizing. For that matter, it was quickly striking Pet as the safer profession: 'At least Mech's have escape pods...'
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CMOpatrick
frequent visitor
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Posted - Jan 22 2003 : 16:35:09
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nice, gentlemen...
though it is about a month old, i hope it reflects a return to mech space...
you never know who you might bump into...
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Aged
That's MISTER Lag Monkey to you.
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Posted - May 06 2003 : 16:41:37
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"What are you doing in this birdcage?!?!?", asked Arcane.
Aged slumped in his seat, suddenly aware of Arcane's presence. Not much had happened since the day the two had met in Arcane's facility months ago. Eventually the waiting had become to much for some. Festus had signed on for some mercenary work with the Chikens, but otherwise the OMO had quietly gone on about their business as Aracne did some freelance work in the periphery worlds.
Aged had tried his hand at racing for awhile, but between the structured nature and his lack of success, he'd decided to don his neuro-helmet again. Besides, racers didn't carry guns.
Racing had gotten under Aged's skin, though, and now he was addicted to speed. Often times these days, Aged would be at the controls of a light mech - an Uller or a Raven mostly. The speed and agility was a blast - even if he did get a few more rides shot out from under him than before. The rush of adrenalin and the absolute sweetness of taking down a land pig was like a drug. Aged's old standby Thor seemed horribly sluggish now.
Releasing the stick and clicking the comms Aged answered Arcane's question (sort of), "Uh, when did you get here?"
"I've been here a few minutes. How do you expect to kill anything in that little piece of junk?"
"It's a zen sort of thing. When I'm in the zone, it all just sort of takes care of itself."
"The zone, huh? ... a zen thing? ... yeah right. Dude we need fire power out there. This ain't no frickin' game!"
"Uhh, actually it is in this case since I'm just in the simulator."
Arcane winced. "Festus just called, seems there's some trouble. Some guy's been badmouthing a potential recruit and Festus has taken it upon himself to, uh, right the wrong so to speak."
"What happened?", asked Aged, as he hung up his neuro-helmet.
"I think it was on Solaris, the promotor kept bitching about this new guy driving one of those little roaches instead of a real mech. Kept talking about how it was unfair or dishonorable or some such nonsense. Eventually, the guy dropped him from the card. Funny thing is this guy is a clanner and always puffing out his chest about honor and stuff. Seems a bit hypocritical, doesn't it?"
"So, what's Festus doing?"
"Well, you know Festus. He's making sure he can rub that guy's nose in his own filth in the most public manner available."
A smile began to emerge on Aged's face. "He really is a spoon, isn't he? Remember how he talked about that Gladbag driver? I still laugh thinking about one of those things having no legs. ... You know, I've got an idea. Since we're not really a unit again yet, why don't we grab a handful of roaches and pay this guy on Solaris a visit? I mean, roaches are cheap and since we'd be badly outgunned we should get our heads handed to us anyways, right? We've got nothing to lose! We go there, we stir up some trouble, we leave! What's not to like?"
Arcane started to smile as well. "But that wouldn't be the mature thing to do."
"Ok, so when are you calling Festus back?"
The two headed off to the coms center, laughing...
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DerangedLunaTech
regular visitor
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Posted - May 06 2003 : 18:32:29
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Deranged stood silently at the desk of Budget Rent-A-Mech, his heart filled with envy - wishing he could dump this dead-end job of cleaning out the cockpits of returned mechs, and go where the action was - like those dashingly handsome, hard-drinkin' warriors...
Sighing, he went out to clean the latest return...Well, at least the didn't mess this one up too bad - just about 2 cases worth of empty beer cans rolling around on the floor, and ...what was that?? Oh gees - female undergarments hanging from the throttle....
(sorry - had to put in my 2 cents worth)
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Have I ever mentioned that I hate poptarts? |
Edited by - DerangedLunaTech on May 06 2003 18:34:24 |
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Festus-OMO
spoon
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Posted - May 06 2003 : 21:19:42
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Word had spread, and if you dug dig enough into the pile of manure that was growing you could almost always find Festus at the bottom of it.
Over time lots of people had had less than flattering things to say about Festus, but today that quote seemed to fit nicely.
There had been an adhoc plan devised, and Festus was planning for the nights action. At least he thought he was planning, or thought it was his plan, he could never be sure. It seemed that every time he talked with Aged, he came away with this "great" idea. Unfortunately when the idea blew up in everyones face it ended up sticking to Festus while Aged smelled like roses. No matter....he was sure it would work this time (yes, Festus is an unrepentant optimist).
Appears there was this Corporation, WOLVERINE SOLUTIONS, some sort of minor league think tank, that had a "pay as you go" Merc training site that they operated on the side. It was about the only thing on this dirtball of a backwater planet that Fes had found to shake off the cobwebs, so he had paid his c-bills, and hooked himself up to one of the rental mechs.
Now, you couldn't go around training on expensive mechs and blowing them to pieces, so WS had equipped the mechs in their stable with slightly dated, but perfectly operable, UWPEMS or Universal Weapons Platform EMulators. You simply climbed in, told the onboard AI what weapons you wanted to be carrying, and the system provided them.
The weapons were non-existant, of course, mere holograms and low power laser reproductions so the mechs did not get damaged. They did respond to "hits" just like the real thing. Systems could be destroyed, ammo could explode, rocking your mech and decreasing its effectiveness.
Anyhow, he had hopped into a Victor chasis and had been trundling around, working the kinks out of his system. The training area was virtually full tonight, and Fes was doing OK, not up to par in his opinion, but starting to find his groove.
Surprisingly enough he noticed a fella he had heard of recently, DerangedLunaTech was his handle. The nick was a bit long, but the guy had potential and had been messaging OMO about his interest in a work-study program, with the possibility of filling an open roster slot in the future.
Festus continued to work on his angles, reaction time and aim, keeping an eye on the rookie when he came across him. Everything seemed copasthetic at the time. He had dropped a music cube into the player on his ride and was singing along to "Born to be Wild" by Steppenwolf;
Keep your motor running
head out on the highway
lookin' for adventure
in whatever comes our way
here and god are gonna' make it happen
take the world in a love embrace
fire all of your guns at once and
explode into space
I like smoke and lightning
heavy metal thunder
racin' with the wind
and the feeling that that I'm under
like a true nature's child
we were born, born to be wild
we can climb so high
I never want to die
Grooving to the pounding rythm of the song Festus was just cresting a ridge when the music cut out, overridden by the WS priority comm line. At the same time a large, bright yellow supervisors mech went blasting past him, heading straight for LunaTech.
"YOU!! Stop right there you $%^U@ worthless, mech hacking $%)+@!?+!!" boomed everyones speakers. "What in the hell do you think you are doing?"
Fes had stopped and torso twisted to see wht all the hubbub was about and he could see the name of the supervisor in big letters across the back of the mech. WS-Badger_Breen.
Breen had overridden LunaTechs mech and was using his override to make the mech buck and thrash violently. All the while he was cursing and swearing a blue streak about "abuse of equipment and overloading the system".
Fes tapped at his personal scanner, velcro-ed to the dash in front of him (never did trust other peoples stuff)and could see nothing wrong.
All the things this idiot supervisor was saying about LunaTech were patently wrong, and this butthead was giving him a very rough ride inside that cockpit.
"Hey Punk", Festus called over the comm, "I don't see a problem here, lots of others are running similar equipement and your not on their case, so ease off the throttle will ya?"
"Mind your own business Old Man" Breen barked back, and he continued to hurl foul language while hurling his target around in the cockpit.
Well, Fes was never a shrinking violet, so he did the only thing he knew. He knew these older model AIs, and their subroutines that operated the UWPEMS. He also knew that they could be temporarily overriden with the right command codes.
While Fes did not have the WS command codes he did know, dug up a long time ago,the "backdoor" commands of this system. It would work for long, at least if this Breen fella had any brains it wouldn't, but it would work for at least a few seconds.
A few minor adjustments on his board, and Fes fired a low power laser at the rear armour sensor of the supervisors mech. The beam flickered in binary code, faster than the eye could ever hope to see, and Fes smiled as the green "go" acknowledgement light lit up on his board.
LunaTechs mech stopped shaking, but at the same time the supervisors mech began to dance. Not shake, but dance.
All mechs on the field stopped and pivoted, watching this bright yellow mech gyrating, pivoting, attempting manuveres it was never designed for, moving in rythm (quite violently, since the mech was trying to do movements it was not capable of) as music poured over the comm channel. Music that was coming from Festus's music cube;
You put your right hand in,
You put your right hand out,
You put your right hand in,
And you shake it all about,
You do the hokey pokey
and you turn yourself around
That what it's all about.
You put your left hand....
Abviously Breen was not too clever, as the mech continued to dance for sometime, people were howling with laughter over the comm channel, and it actually made it to verse 6;
you put your butt in,
you put your butt out,
you put your butt in,
and you shake it all about,
before he finally overrode the backdoor commands and caused both Festus and LunaTechs mech to eject their cockpits, sending them sailing out of the field.
Tonight OMO was going back to vist the WS Facility and show them that it was not nice to pick on Old Men..........
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Work like you don't need the money. Love like you've never been hurt. Dance like nobody's watching.
-- Satchel Paige
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Edited by - Festus-OMO on May 06 2003 21:24:08 |
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Country: Canada
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SmellyFart
Administrator
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Posted - May 07 2003 : 05:37:42
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Fes.... you know even for a Canadian, you more twisted then most...
Smelly
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Country: Canada
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Confused-OMO
regular visitor
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Posted - May 07 2003 : 14:38:12
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I'm Just Confused I cried, Then rolled over and fell deeper into the arms of the cherubs that usually hold the edge of my Kilt with their toes, while they flutter around my waist muttering all the secrets that naughty Pixies tell them about what their Queen the Grand Traffic light Controller has done with the Green Walking people that never appear when you want to cross the road (they fight with the red standing people). there is a war on between them thats why when your not looking they all hiding behind the clouds that appear when you have a bath early in the morning, evening baths do not appeal to them so much as the clouds contain to much treacle.
Jay Walk Screams in that hidden part of crutch Jay Walk I still hear the echoes. then I made another cup of Tea and settled down to a nice night in front of the telly
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Aged
That's MISTER Lag Monkey to you.
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Posted - May 08 2003 : 16:39:36
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Aged ordered another beer as Confused left the bar.
"I guess I understand where he got his nick.", he thought to himself. 
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Arcane
Administrator
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Posted - May 08 2003 : 18:38:56
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Arcane takes a long drink of a triple venti Caramel Macchiato* and stares of into the distance.
After a moment of deep thought he looks over at Aged, "You know my friend, I think I'm more confused than he is after that diatribe. And NO it doesn't help to try to reason it out"
(a foamed milk drink marked with espresso, vanilla and real caramel)
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Novus Ordo Seclorum
Knowledge is power... has been since time eternal. Arcane knowledge is thereby ultimate power and can
therefore lead to ultimate corruption. Wisdom (and the experience that comes with age) is a serum for corruption.
Perhaps that is why there are so many Old Men with Arcane knowledge and so few young ones...
Arcane OMO - Circa 2001
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PacemakerOMO
The Florida Racer!
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Posted - May 08 2003 : 19:22:30
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Pacemaker sitting ina corner watching everyone in the bar could only shake his head in wonder at the concotion that Arcane called a drink (triple venti Caramel Macchiato) muttered to his self ,, ""freakin college boys and their ideas of what a good drink is!! "Sh######T !!! it'll be a wonder his hair dont fall out of his chest the first time his mech takes a Alpha Strike CT , now ill have to make sure his ejection system is up to par""
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DerangedLunaTech
regular visitor
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Posted - May 12 2003 : 07:54:10
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DLT figured that he had just hit his head hard while that @#$%^&* Breen had been shaking him around, but he could have sworn he recognized that voice...
The commercially available battleroms had most of the voices overridden by commentary - but DLT had managed to procure some underground copies - without the commentary (what did they think these battles were, Solaris or something??) so that he could actually hear the communication between the pilots - and he could have sworn that was the voice of Festus yelling at Breen.
Now, dusting himself off after the involuntary ejection, he looked...and indeed it was - Festus, in the flesh (well - kinda - he did have clothes on, so it wasn't truely "in the flesh" like some of the other pirated ROMS he had)
"Woah...it's you...sir...." studdered Deranged.
"Shaddup, kid, and guive me a hand..." With popping joints and many groans, Festus rose to his feet, and shook his head, as if to clear it. "Meeting me in person ain't no big deal - well, except that I'm partially sober today, which is a bit of a change from the norm. Is that what you guys call 'fun' around this dive?"
"Well, unfortunately - on this dirtball - WS is about the only thing that's going. Everyone knows they are totally bush league - everyone, but WS, that is," said Deranged. "And they have the monopoly on trainers, so they are the only way here that you can actually pick up a licence."
"Meh - we'll see about that, eh" grumbled Festus. "I'm thinking that maybe we might just have to set them up a bit of competition..." Festus trailed off, muttering to himself about things that Deranged couldn't udnerstand, but it sounded like he was putting together an idea....something about Arcane, and "dedicated" and "2000." "Anyway, kid listen - we gotta do something about this Breen fella. I have an idea, but I think we're gonna need your help. How much do you know about these UWPEMS?"
As they began to discuss Festus' plan, Deranged knew that the OMO's didn't really *need* his help, but Festus was inviting him along to take part in the payback. Well, whatever it took....
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Have I ever mentioned that I hate poptarts? |
Edited by - DerangedLunaTech on May 12 2003 07:57:30 |
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Aged
That's MISTER Lag Monkey to you.
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Posted - May 12 2003 : 11:14:22
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SHWOOSH!!!
Aged heard a sound like a knife stabbing into a bucket of gravel - the unmistakeable sound of a large laser burning off precious armor. But, where did it come from? A quick check of the Thor's monitors revealed damage to the right side.
Glancing toward the mountains to the right, Aged noticed a faint outline of a Victor's head.
SHWOOSH!!!
"Time to teach that poptart a lesson.", thought Aged.
Off in the distance, the familiar buzzsaw sound of banks of RAC2 could be heard, tracers arcing their way toward the Victor.
DLT's voice came over the coms, "Damn poptart! I hate 'em! Die scumbag!"
The Victor retreated back behind the mountain a bit. "Cool", thought Aged, "he's occupied."
Aged swung his Thor wide to the left as he arc'ed toward the, now cowering, Victor, thinking it might pull him back out into the RAC fire. Even if it didn't Aged had an even nicer surprise in store in the form of twin CLBX20's. What a sweet song those guys could sing. Aged loved "Thumper", a jump jet equiped, shot gun toting Thor. "Thumper" had always been good to him.
Now within range, a quick tap of the jump jets and "Thumper" was airborn. Looking down on the Victor, Aged fired both barrels of the CLBX20's.
"Ooooh baby!!! Aw! You weren't planning to use that arm were ya?"
A quick shot from the ERLL and "Thumper" settled back to the ground, now in range and without any obstacles in line with the Victor. Ka-chunk! The CLBX20's reloaded and with a quick pull of the trigger it was over.
"Man I hate poptarts!", DLT said over the coms.
SHWOOSH! SHWOOSH!
"Hey! ... No time for that, I've got a chainfiring Thanny on me now."
"Oh him.", said DLT reassuringly.
Aged swung "Thumper" back around in a wide left arc and headed toward the Thanny. RAC fire continued without a stop.
"Dammit, I'm always jamming these things!", yelled DLT.
By now, the Thanny was in shotgun range but behind a hill. "Thumper" took to the sky again. Aged looked down but the Thanny was too far underneath him to get a shot off. Back on the ground, Aged twisted "Thumper" hard left as the Thanny hit its jump jets. SHWOOSH! Oops, where'd that Sunder come from? Aged continued to line up the CLBLX20's as the Thanny floated back down ... right on top of the Sunder!!! LOL
SHWOOSH! SHWOOSH! SHWOOSH!
Aged ejected.
"Hey Capn nice DFA!!", Aged said, taunting his killer.
The Thanny pilot responded, "Really? Was it good?"
"Just ask your team mate. But, from where I was it looked good to me.", laughed Aged.
"Oh ... figures."
"Hey, DLT, where are you?"
"Uhh, I thought I'd go up here through the ravine and see if I can find me another poptart to kill. ... I hate those guys! ... Uhh, I thought I might try a stealthier approach, but I think I'm lost. Anyways, if I can't find a poptart, it'll be worth it. ... Did I mention that I hate those guys?"
"I think you might have."
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Geriatrica II
