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You are Captain Anode, and all of your friends are angry.
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Right now it's India's turn. She's almost trembling with murderous rage, clenching and unclenching her fingers, sucking deep breaths through her teeth and exhaling, low and venomous... and staring at you pointedly, waiting for your answer.
"I'll try, okay?" You offer placatingly, hands up. "I have no idea what will or won't be useful for a jet."
After a moment, she nods, and her tense, brimming fury relaxes just a hair. "I'll handle that. And I'll make it worth your while."
"Endo for everyone!" Foxfire calls. Loudly.
You facepalm as half the bar turns, and India seems to regard her for the first time. "Way ahead of you, sweetheart."
"I'm just going to step in here to prevent this rapport from reaching critical mass," you grumble. "Foxfire, tonight my CO is stepping down. He just watched everyone he knows die or go maverick, again, and if you ruin this, I really am going to kill you."
Foxfire raises an eyebrow and sits back, not so much intimidated as... impressed? India's body language is a near-mirror. Christ, this is the worst possible friendship, sent to you by the mecha-devil atop his pile of burning cars on Fuck Mountain.
"Not to worry," Foxfire offers. "I won't be here. Self-preservation comes first and always."
"Right, I'm lost," Em declares, standing up again with a wobble. "I'mma just go dry out and take care of some shit before tonight. Tell Max to call me if he needs me."
He stumble-trudges off--snatching his datapad off the table an instant before Foxfire and India make a grab for it--and heads for the exit.
India has retreated into another grouchy silence, interspersed with occasional swigs from whatever booze she can get ahold of, while Foxfire taps away on her arm terminal, humming to herself with self-satisfaction. A ping in your comms from Em tells you he sent you "your part of Frog's party."
You're still a ways off, and you don't exactly have anything to prepare.
>Wat do?
And good morning, all. Another relaxed-pace thread today--I should have plenty to do and write, but work has been doing its level best to drive me insane and leave me no spare brain to develop with. I think that's going to be changing sooner rather than later, but for now, it makes running extra tough.
Fuck it, train with the Bravely Broken.
Not so much to be productive, but because hanging out with them is going to be less stressful than this, and maybe the training will bore Foxfire enough to leave.
Ayy, good morning. Gonna go with this.
Check what 'our part of the party' entails.
Yay, Maverick Hunter Quest!
Voting for
First time here for a live thread, and I'll be backing this vote.
Might be a good idea to train them with Spider. Get a good variety of experience with them and in a way, training them helps us train as well.
Welcome to the fourth.
Oh, we should probably apologize to Max for bringing our own booze in like an asshole.
Glad to be here, sir!
Okay, back and getting into gear now, had to take care of some weekend essentials/exercise/laundry/kill me it hurts to live.
Combat sims time. I say we fight Tanker Tigershark's data so we can enact vengeance when we eventually cross paths.
Let's see if we can get the sims combined so it's us vs X vs Sigma.
No. We have to go deeper. Us vs Em vs X vs Zero vs Tanker vs Vile vs Nicholz vs Rhodes vs Schwarz vs Frog vs Sev vs Sigma.
Backing every one of these training ideas. Anode vs Bravely Broken vs Spider vs X vs Sigma BATTLE ROYALE THIS WEEK ON RRRAAAAWWWWWWW
Vs Saetos vs Wren vs Max.
I smell an underground simulated fights betting pool in the making...
Hey! Money source for Indy's plane! Nothing can possibly go wrong.
Oh man, I COMPLETELY forgot about them. I approve.
2nd Recon has a special Large Scale Simulator that lets them project a massive combat zone to train within.
Ideas like this are why they don't allow everyone to use it.
“Right, I declare banana shenanigans on all of you,” you say, standing up yourself. “I’m gonna go train with my squad.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be keeping me under custody?” Foxfire points out, fluttering her eyes menacingly.
“Oh, right. India! She’s your problem.” That ought to at least force a power dynamic conflict. You can’t stop the friendship train barreling towards the station, but you can at least slow it down.
India waves you off. “Yeah, yeah, boy scout.”
The range is fairly empty again--with the exception of your team. Flak is carrying that Blackout Flare launcher you ordered, sighting it downrange--the dense, compact design of the Beret chassis makes the rocket tube look cumbersome and awkward, but he shoulders it aptly. Your OPAL reminds you that it exists by giving a faint warning tone in your ear, an overlaid from the end of the rocket showing you its projected flight path. As you approach, Flak lowers the weapon, raises it, sights, and mock-fires, all without firing a shot.
Beside him, Susan is taking notes of some kind--he pops off a salute when he sees you. “Good to see you up and about again, sir.”
“Still kicking,” you reply, returning the gesture. “How’s it going?”
“Calibrating sensors, nothing to write home about.”
“Good to see you, sir!” Flak chimes in, raising the weapon and safing it.
“Likewise. Susan tell you about our plans?”
“I’m not going to say no to more upgrades,” he replies excitedly. “Already thinking of how we could use them.”
You nod. “That’s part of what brings me down here. Other part being distraction and escape.”
Susan gives you a bemused look, but says nothing. Flak just beams, bouncy enthusiasm unshaken. “What’s the plan, boss?”
>Some coordinated fireteam exercises--if I’m going to lead you guys, we may as well practice fighting together.
>General drill--get all the basics out of the way, and we won’t have to worry the stupid stuff in a fight.
>I was going to hunt for someone to get some more input from again. (Specify)
>Other?
>Some coordinated fireteam exercises--if I’m going to lead you guys, we may as well practice fighting together.
>Some coordinated fireteam exercises
We've seriously barely worked with these guys since we formed this squad up, and the basics are better suited to regular training. If we're pulling the team in, we should focus on the team.
>Some coordinated fireteam exercises--if I’m going to lead you guys, we may as well practice fighting together.
toooo many solo missions
>>Some coordinated fireteam exercises--if I’m going to lead you guys, we may as well practice fighting together.
It's a shame we don't have
>Fireteam exercises
Practice with the chaff launcher and setting up anti air fire with it. Aerial combat is one of our greatest weaknesses that a squad could help mitigate.
*It's a shame we don't have someone on hand with experience with that sort of thing.
>>>Some coordinated fireteam exercises--if I’m going to lead you guys, we may as well practice fighting together.
By God, this is something we should have done ages ago.
>We're all going for team-bonding ice cream. Yay!
So we've got a ready-made area and equipment for it, too? Perfect. We'll cut 2nd in on the profit, win-win.
Can we casually ask how it's going with all the infantry? Considering how pissed off most of them are with humans, I'm concerned about a mass defection/quitting. The range being empty again isn't a great sign.
>>Some coordinated fireteam exercises--if I’m going to lead you guys, we may as well practice fighting together.
Take 'em on an A rank sim, it'll be educational
Where's Grach?
Got transferred over to 10th to train the shit out of people.
Don't worry. We have a brand new enemy capture-turned-base-fixture who is clearly just as disciplined and helpful.
And is probably already shitposting the infantry private forums.
As expected of a maverick sleeper agent.
>>Some coordinated fireteam exercises--if I’m going to lead you guys, we may as well practice fighting together.
“How do you guys feel about some squad-level training?” You ask. “Myself included. I haven’t fought directly alongside you since we put the team together.”
“I noticed,” Susan replies wryly. “And sure, I was going to suggest we do something eventually anyway.”
Susan places a few comms to call the rest of the team, giving you a couple minutes to pass getting things set up.
“So, before we start,” you say conversationally. “What’s the team’s specialty anyway?”
Susan side-eyes Flak. “Elevator pitch?”
Flak nods. “Elevator pitch.”
With that, Susan turns back to you, standing up straight and clearing his throat for effect. “The Steel Beret series of production infantry solutions is a showcase in affordable durability, with a rugged and dependable chassis that is easy to upgrade, backed by a flexible tactical mind. Steel Berets are easy to train, personable, considerate of their environment, and exhibit patience that the preceding generations of Lanceteamers lack. They retain the cohesive team-mindedness and coordination while remaining flexible and approachable for commanders or civilians alike.”
“That sounded scripted,” you observe.
“It was. Pamphlet description of our line,” Susan explains. “However, it has been noted in real-world battlefield operations that Steel Berets have somewhat lackluster mobility and firepower. While patient, they also lack aggression, and have only middling reaction speeds when sending fire downrange. In practical applications, their lack of integrated weaponry can occasionally cause performance to degrade if caught out.”
“Hhhhuh. Does it… bother you, knowing people write shit about you like that?”
“Not really,” Flak says with a shrug.
“All the time,” Susan replies.
Right.
Finally, two more Berets--the more elusive Marx and Derby/Derb Y/Y showing up together. The latter is, in fact, wearing the relevant hat. It’s a little tough to get a read on them, but they certainly seem up for things--both wearing the modular armor kits over their base plating and looking ready to go.
Your training winds up involving clearing the targets from the range and setting up there--one of you trading off by turns as a hostile attacker from varying positions, and the team coordinating in response. You haven’t seen Looey, but you can’t shake the feeling he’s watching your every move. After an hour or two, you think you have a better idea of what your Berets are capable of.
Sure enough, their mobility is pretty weak--they can run at a decent clip, but you can outjump and, of course, outdash them, making outflanking their cover almost trivial. You didn’t trade live fire, but based on combat projections, they can take a pretty solid beating apiece--Susan mentions offhandedly that the Beret is the sturdiest C-rank model yet created. What’s more, that battlefield coordination really shines--Susan in particular is on the aggressors constantly, hampering their movements and covering the team. Flak, unsurprisingly, is a great shot, able to catch several targets on the move, in the air, or behind cover. Their offense and defense is only going to be improved by the weapons and armor you’re providing, and you don’t doubt that with time to train, those hand-held shields are going to be a great investment. Once or twice, you catch yourself genuinely surprised at their skill, and you can immediately see why those expensive dash upgrades could really pay off. It’s going to solve one of their biggest vulnerabilities, and you could absolutely see any of them becoming officer material with relevant improvements.
By the end, you’ve worked out a few tactics to try with the team, working together around what you--and they--can do. It feels pretty positive. By the end, even Susan is almost smiling. Almost.
“So, what do you think? You still want to buy that gear you were talking about?”
“Almost definitely. I’d probably have ordered them already, but… well, I think our next target is a bad fit. At least not until you’ve had time to train with the gear.” You outline what little you know of Sabomole, and Susan nods.
“I mean, it’s a specialty tool we’d need training with, but we could still buy them and get them ready--and maybe take them along anyway. Confined tunnels would be a good place to use those shields.”
>Order the gear you squirreled money away for now. It’ll open up a world of tactical options.
>Scrap the shield plan--that’ll get you that much closer to other upgrades, for them or for you.
>Other?
>Order the gear you squirreled money away for now. It’ll open up a world of tactical options.
>Order the gear.
We were in a tunnel once against a Rabbit ride armor. A shield would've come in handy then.
>Order the gear you squirreled money away for now. It’ll open up a world of tactical options.
Get em prepped and ready for action. We're fighting a war here and our squad needs equipment to reflect that.
>Order the gear you squirreled money away for now. It’ll open up a world of tactical options.
P rank beret soon.
>Order the gear you squirreled money away for now.
Rather have and not need, etc.
Also, we should get off-base maybe? Go shopping Get Frog a thoughtful going away present. The old man has done incredibly well by us.
>Order the gear you squirreled money away for now. It’ll open up a world of tactical options.
Shields now, dash later.
>Also, we should get off-base maybe? Go shopping Get Frog a thoughtful going away present. The old man has done incredibly well by us.
Sounds good to me. Call Em or Max for ideas?
Order the gear and get a gift for Frog. Even if it's a nice radio so he can listen to something while he does what he does.
M.C. Hammer album.
“Done deal,” you say. “I’m ordering them right now. Two heavy shields, one Lockon rifle. That’s yours, by the way.”
Susan blinks. “Not Flak’s?”
“Already got the rocket launcher. He can supervise, if you think you need the help.”
Susan shrugs. “Noted. Thanks, I guess. I’ll try not to waste it.”
“The better shot’s supposed to be the spotter anyway,” Flak offers. “Besides, you’ll do fine. You’ve got better situational awareness than me, any day. You’ll put it to good use.”
Susan looks a little out-of-sorts at the praise. “Thanks.”
You’re about to give him a good-natured ribbing when your comms ping.
“Yoooohoooooo~” comes an annoyingly familiar voice, drawing a facepalm and a groan.
“Foxfire, who gave y--never mind, I know who. What.”
“Hold on, how do you turn this o--there we go, Shelby Cobras for everyone.” With a burst of static, a video feed opens, revealing a very upside-down Foxfire, reclining back over an armature you recognize.
“Nice ride armor,” Foxfire observes, splayed across the top and looking up at the camera. “Your friend told me what happened.”
The alarm bells immediately start ringing. It’s not like India to talk about her failures. “If I find any fur in what’s left of the Crossmore, I swear I’ll--”
“Butter your britches, Candyman, I’m about to do you a favor.”
“...What does that even--”
“So, I know you’re a busy sort, but I imagine it would help someone somewhere if this thing were back up and running.”
That gives you pause. “Yeah?”
“So, here. A sign of good faith. While I’m in Halcyon’s big stupid secret materials lab, I’ve got access to parts no one else does. Plenty of stuff could go into repairing this heap. Nothing that’s even seeing any use. No strings attached.”
>All right, fine, I’m not going to turn down something like this. What’s your angle, Foxfire?
>Save it. Whatever your game is, I want no part of it. Better to let the Crossmore rust.
>Other?
>All right, fine, I’m not going to turn down something like this. What’s your angle, Foxfire?
>All right, fine, I’m not going to turn down something like this. What’s your angle, Foxfire?
Is she going be be our junk repair expert? radical.
Can't wait for her to get us all killed
>All right, fine, I’m not going to turn down something like this. What’s your angle, Foxfire?
>>All right, fine, I’m not going to turn down something like this. What’s your angle, Foxfire?
If it involves calling command dildos, then thats more India's thing though.
>All right, fine, I’m not going to turn down something like this. What’s your angle, Foxfire?
The next time we see the Crossmore it's solid pink.
>All right, fine, I’m not going to turn down something like this. What’s your angle, Foxfire?
though i do have my doubts, fixing it as part of an elaborate practical joke is still fixing it
>All right, fine, I’m not going to turn down something like this. What’s your angle, Foxfire?
And the speakers blare shitty jpop whenever you turn it on.
>All right, fine, I’m not going to turn down something like this. What’s your angle, Foxfire?
>>All right, fine, I’m not going to turn down something like this. What’s your angle, Foxfire?
So Dvas mech?
You have no idea how tempted I was to have Foxfire chewing bubblegum when she commed you.
>All right, fine, I’m not going to turn down something like this. What’s your angle, Foxfire?
"Please don't make our lives any harder if you can help it."
> If you turn it into Unit-05 I *will* kill you.
slightly related
aberrantkenosis.bandcamp.com
Suppose it's time for me to make my customary appearance. Burning cars for the car throne.
But I don't have a car Cain Labs.
Anyone's car will do. If they're inside, even better.
Hi Cain Labs, any chance of a continuation of the events of X2? Or are you just here for fun (i.e. murdering Anode and/or characters we care about)?
“... All right, fine. Wouldn’t be the dumbest offer I ever accepted,” you grudgingly admit.
Foxfire pauses. “...What WOULD be the dumbest--”
“Alf keychain for novelty electromagnet.”
“Ah.”
“What’s your game, Foxfire?” you ask warily.
She snickers. “I doubt you’ll understand, but you thinking I’m up to something when I’m not is all I need. It means I’ve got people guessing.”
“Noted,” you reply coolly.
“No, I’m serious,” she replies. “In my line of work? That’s important. Anyway, no game.“
“Uh huh. Just promise me it’s not going to have an ejector seat or shoot confetti instead of plasma in combat.”
“You probably shouldn’t give me any ideas.”
“Lovely. Anode out.”
Susan eyes you as you sigh and look skyward. “Should I ask?”
“Probably not, no.”
“Right. So… what now?”
“I guess I need to start getting ready for Frog’s party tonight,” you reply. “It’s not a formal thing, if you’d care to come along?”
“Enh, no thanks,” Susan says. “I liked the guy and all, but Berets are pretty new. I’d feel out of place with all the officers and Lanceteamers and whatnot. Give him our regards?”
“Sure thing.”
Susan salutes again as you head off--he’s gotten a lot less cranky as time’s worn on. That’s a good thing, you hope, though maybe it’s just because he’s taking stock of who’s left after Doppler’s rebellion.
You might be getting a bit more Susan-like yourself, you realize, checking the thought as you leave.
>Go and get something for Frog. (Specify?)
>Head straight to the party.
>Go and get something for Frog. (Specify?
Call Em/Max/crankshaft for ideas.
>Go and get something for Frog. (Specify?)
Well, it's hard to get him something when we really don't know what he likes, so why not a radio? Something he can listen to while he works so he can make the drudgery more enjoyable. With a recording of all the songs we sing tonight?
>Go and get something for Frog. (Specify?)
seconding
>>Go and get something for Frog. (Specify?)
Our favorite movie (whatever that is, my votes for Brave Little Toaster) on whatever super format exists now. Tell him he has to tell us what he thinks after watching.
I feel like it's more meaningful if we don't ask others for advice this time
>Go and get something for Frog. (Specify?)
Old movies, as though it would be anything else.
I'm thinking lighthearted military comedy.
Oh, oh, we should get him Sgt. Bilko.
Oh that's right, I didn't finish that. Where did I leave off?
I thought we liked Frog?
That's not how you spell Stripes.
Last update I see is Flame Stag
Get him a classic british tv show, reconstructed by archaeologists and cinematographers from incomplete fragments in the ruined film archives.
I am referring, of course, to Blackadder's Bizarre Adventure, the generational story of the blackadder clan, and their continued attempts to take over the world with unique supernatural powers only to be thwarted time and again.
Let's get him some whiskey like crown-royal.
>Go and get something for Frog.
A good bottle, a something personal to remember the crew by, and an official-looking letter pronouncing him 'Too Old For This Command Shit.'
Stand by, dinner followed by almost guaranteed foodcoma.
'World's Best Ex-Commander' mug.
curse you meat bag body functions!
We need to make a decision or HC will stay dead.
Then I guess a movie would fit us. Why not the untouchables or a movie in chicago?
This is a pretty good idea, really.
Chicago! Battlescarred veterans love musicals, right?
Not Chicago the musical. But yeah, untouchables, maybe police academy to remember us by as well.
Seconding (thirding?) Untouchables.
Jackie Chan greatest hits.
You opt to take a two-tined approach on your gifting, mostly for lack of any concrete ideas. You’re good for two things, you figure--movies and alcohol. For the former, you put together a collection of your favorite cop flicks from an online catalog--comedies, serious, whatever. After some consideration, you throw the M*A*S*H collection into the mix--whatever he’s in the market for, it ought to have it. That turns into a segue into military flicks, and in two minutes, you’ve racked up a good Z200. You ping Max, real quick, and sure enough, he can sell you a bottle of some of his top-shelf stuff. You figure whiskey will be Frog’s speed, and Max helps you pick out a good one.
By the time you make it back to the bar, it looks like everything is ready to go, and everyone is at least one drink deep. The place is abuzz, humming with more life and activity than it has since before the attack. Enlisted pack the place--like Susan said, a lot of the older crowd, types you don’t normally see in here. Including--
“Come on, Yu, don’t do this to me, I’m beggin’ ya,” Crankshaft pleads.
His daughter gives him a sympathetic pat on the arm… before upending her glass and draining the contents, lowering the now-empty liquor glass with a sunny smile.
“You’re killing me here, Yuzuki,” he glowers, and she giggles at his stormy pout. “Fine, fine, have it your way. Maybe a hangover will teach you right.”
She waits for him to finish politely before pointing you out, and the grizzled old Gomeister turns to regard you with that weatherbeaten faceplate of his. “Well! The new kid. Good to see you again.”
You nod--you haven’t heard anything from him since that hurried comm message during the attack. “Good to see you too, Cranky. What’s up?”
“Just trying to impress upon the youth the lessons of experience,” he grumbles. “We’ll be up bright and early, you hear? Bright and early!”
“You can’t get a hangover,” Yuzuki replies, cheeks pink from the combination of liquor and laughter. “Hardly the lessons of experience.”
“Bahhhhh.”
“Glad you both made it,” you interject before the next round can start. “I’m sure Frog will be grateful.”
“Wouldn’t have missed this for anything,” Crankshaft replies. “I still remember his first day like it was yesterday. Never been happier to see someone go.”
You snort. “I bet.”
“Plenty of faces in here,” Crankshaft observes, looking around, argument with his daughter forgotten. “Frog’s made a lot of friends outside the 4th in his time.”
>Go look for some. Best foot forward, right?
>Stay and chew the fat. It’s been a spell.
>Other?
>Stay and chew the fat. It’s been a spell.
>Go look for some. Best foot forward, right?
after Cain has killed off so many named characters we need to replenish the stock.