Mecha Space Pirate Quest XLIX

Welcome back yet again, to the forty-ninth installment of Mecha Space Pirate Quest. I'm your host, Wong, and as when we left off you are Amos Wedge, a Corporal in the UJCIDF and Caesar's upperclassman friend.

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When we last left off, your squad had been ambushed by a quintet of Avalonian Knights and your squad's ostensible leader had his Warmouth's right leg shot into nonfunctionality. You and Simon both sling an arm under the arms of Garret's Warmouth and fire your thrusters on maximum. He helps, using his remaining leg and torso's thrusters to steer as the three of you streak away across the treetops.

Rockets fall from the sky like burning rain. Fifteen of them streak past, but only one is shot dead-center and explodes against the Warmouth's back. Fortunately, its armor protects it, although the other two's shields aren't looking so pretty after they have to block a few. You casually swerve around the rockets and set an example for your juniors.

There's a steady stream of profanity over the line from the other two. Simon in particular sounds rattled. You're a little surprised by how calm you are, but then again, nothing has managed to touch you yet. You calmly sip some grape juice out of a climate-controlled thermos and concentrate on your flying. After all, you're Jovian, you're #1. No point in panicking. Yet.

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youtube.com/watch?v=iUuvHPr4BGk
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Damn it Wedge you are invoking so many warning signs!

The first thing I'm going to need from you guys is a metric shitton of 1d10+13s. Not just one per person, but keep doing it for a while. A tsunami of dicerolls!

Check my prodigious ability to roll nat 1s.

Rolled 10 + 13 (1d10 + 13)

..you worry me so much Wong. Here's the first from me.

Rolled 6 + 13 (1d10 + 13)

Stand back nerds, I got this.

Rolled 4 + 13 (1d10 + 13)

Or not roll at all, apparently. Fucking auto-capitalization.

Rolled 5 + 13 (1d10 + 13)

Rolled 3 + 13 (1d10 + 13)

Ok, going for the second one now.

Rolled 6 + 13 (1d10 + 13)

You need two dozen or something?

Rolled 4, 5 = 9 (2d10)

A little math tells me that the rocketeers can get one more round in on you. +12

Rolled 8 + 13 (1d10 + 13)

Wonder what this is going to lead too

Rolled 3, 5, 10, 8 = 26 (4d10)

Rocket salvos taken care of!

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

Rolled 2 + 12 (1d10 + 12)

Bang!

Keep rolling, by the way.

THEY'RE IN THE TREES MAN! THEY'RE IN THE TREES!

Rolled 9, 7, 2, 2 = 20 (4d10)

Hows this?

Rolled 8 + 13 (1d10 + 13)

How many of them are there? Seems like they are going all out with their sniper cannons, firing willy nilly.

Rolled 1 + 13 (1d10 + 13)

Rolled 6 (1d10)

roll

Rolled 5 + 13 (1d10 + 13)

We really ain't some fortunate sons today

Rolled 4 + 13 (1d10 + 13)

ignore that my bad

>First time we meet Garma
>He dies

The irony is palpable

We're space green berets fighting in space veitnam. Our last name is Wedge, our friend's last name is Biggs, and we are guarding Garma.

The fact we are somehow surviving long enough TO run away is a miracle.

Rolled 90 + 13 (1d100 + 13)

I wonder if Wedge is gonna end up with a cat girl?

The Knight that dropped the sniper cannon drops the rocket launcher too and picks the cannon back up. It's a huge, ominous black rifle, a mass driver of some sort with a crown of four graceful, spiralling prongs at the tip. Lightning crackles between them.

The headless Knight scurries behind the sniper, and the one that Garret and Simon dis-armed switches its lance into its left hand. Along with the other two rocketeers, it pursues you.

They're in range long enough to fire another ten rockets total at you, but you dodge those with ease. Even encumbered, even with them taking advantage of the river valley's short-cropped vegetation to speed along behind you overland raising plumes of dust in their wake, your space-built mecha are faster than theirs, and slowly you pull out of the effective range of their weapons.

The sniper, however, opens up on you. Magnetically accelerated shells start to whiz around your Pumpkinseed's head, and suddenly you realize something chilling. This one is focusing on you.

So you give them the fig with your free hand.

[Continued]

Pretend I rolled a d10 and count this as a 9 please.

Just wait until we hook up with our transport Matilda

Rolled 6, 1, 9, 4, 5, 8, 2, 8 = 43 (8d10)

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

Rolled 7 + 13 (1d10 + 13)

so roll more dice?

Rolled 9 + 13 (1d10 + 13)

Rolled 3 + 13 (1d10 + 13)

guess i'll roll

That's enough rolling, let's see how bad the damage is.

Rolled 5, 6 = 11 (2d10)

And these last two.

I am so happy we have active shields. Unless he's getting 4 shots a round, it looks like we've been able to parry the worst of the hits.

Rolled 6, 6, 1, 8 = 21 (4d10)

Two parries, three hits, one crit.

Rollin' for location. Because the shooter is directly behind you, normally you wouldn't be able to parry them, but in this case I figured your active shield could at least automatically parry the first attack each round the way it's supposed to.

Missed a cockpit hit thankfully.

Yes, but the Pumpkinseed II is definitely extremely damaged.

Yeah.. this certainly isn't going well. Pure fleeing may be a bad idea. Still, we are going to need some repairs less we face catgirl infested land.

I think this is relevant.
youtube.com/watch?v=iUuvHPr4BGk

This turns out to be something of a mistake. You're able to stay out of the sniper's sight some of the time, but each (9K) hit tears through your armor.

You manage to block two of them (reducing shield SP to 7, left arm SP to 3) but they leave deep craters in your shield. Despite your best efforts, two more shots take off your mech's right arm (although you're able to save the beam rapier), another cleanly severs your Pumpkinseed's head, and the final one damages your HMIS input somehow, making the controls more clumsy (-2 MV, SP reduced to 4). You can still fly, but you're now relying on the damaged Simon and Garret as much as they are on you by the time you put enough hills between you and your pursuers to talk again.

"Can we still make it to Innsmouth before dark?" You glance up at the sky through your suit's secondary sensor core in the chest.

"I don't think so. Either we push on through the night in this state, or we find a hamlet and try to hide out until daybreak. I can't believe it, what were they doing so far north? That wasn't just some amateur ambush, they knew what they were doing. Simon?" Garret interrupts your other friend's mumbling.

"I don't want to die I don't want to die I don't want to die I don't want to die..." You can hear Simon's teeth chattering.

"Great." Garret sighs, "So what do you think, Amos?"

>[Push on through the night]
>[Find a hamlet and bunk down]

>>[Push on through the night]
Well Shinji was going to break down sooner or later

>>[Push on through the night]
If we find a hamlet we could get killed in our sleep. If we keep on moving we may find allied patrols.

>[Push on through the night]

They knew we were coming with enough time to camouflage their mechs. Anywhere outside of Jovian territory should be considered hostile, and Jovian territory right now is that ship.

>[Push on through the night]
Speed is the one thing we have on these fuckers and we arent in much state to fight them if they catch up with us.

>[Push on through the night]

>[Find a hamlet and bunk down]
We are in no shape for a night ambush, especially with Simon's state. We need to get some food, rest, and do some repairs to at least make it to base.

And how exactly are we going to repair our multi-ton, fiendishly complicated war machines? And with what, more particularly?

I like how you can immediately spot the 40k folks

Do any of us even have the ability to repair our mechs if we had the required materials?

>Ambush has occurred on nominally secured ground
>The enemy not only was aware of our route, but had enough forewarning to position a squad larger than our own within terrain features
>Wanting to get back to our rendezvous, which we know absolutely is Jovian, is 40kid
>Instead of DRIVE ME CLOSER, I WANT TO HIT THEM WITH MY SWORD

You have some odd, odd notions about 40k.

Highly doubtful. And even if we could patch the physical damage, our HMIS got fucked up. That's not something you can knock on with a wrench.

I was actually agreeing, because clearly the risk of the locals being heretics is a very, very real one.

Ironically, THAT is a DC 15 TA+Mecha Tech roll, meaning Amos could do it with some luck.

Fucking cat people.

havent we lost like an arm and a leg in the fight? i don't think we can fix those up in one night

That's actually pretty hilarious, if only because the looks on everyone else's face when they see us taking one long look at delicate neural circuitry and decided to opt for the time-honored military field repair technique know as "beating the shit out of it."

"We can't stop." You confirm what you're already hearing in Garret's grim voice. Despite the difference in your social positions, you're friends for a reason, "We're in no state to fight, and they knew we were coming, they had enough advance warning to plant five mecha in ambush for us. Do you really trust the locals right now?"

"Not a bit." He replies.

"Exactly. We just have to push on and be grateful that our rations include wake-me-up pills." You sigh and settle in for a long, bumpy, uncomfortable flight. The monotony of it is made all the worse by your expectation that something else is going to jump out at you any minute now.

The sky overhead turns a dark, sulky grey, tall cumulonimbus clouds like anvils pregnant with lightning rolling in on the wind. Fat droplets of rain patter off the armor of your battered mecha. You've spent too long in space, the sound of water on metal almost makes you think you're being hit by enemy small-arms fire until you realize what it is and try to relax a little. Eventually, the sound is almost hypnotic.

Lightning flashes, and Simon nearly drops Garret as he swerves for the trees, and only a bit of quick piloting on your end saves the three of you from going down, "Enemy fire confirmed at ten-o-clock!" He gasps over the comms.

"It's just lightning, Simon. We were briefed about it, remember?" You reassure him. Personally, you're starting to think this planet is a little less pretty now that the sky is spitting electron beams at you.

You don't see the sun set through the storm, as you pass over little fishing villages along the river's course, slowly making your way towards the ocean and the port city of Innsmouth. It just gets darker, and darker, the trees turning black beneath you and whipping with the wind like a sharp-edged sea. The sky swirls above you, the trees swirl below you, as if you were the only still point in an endless sea of chaos.

[Continued]

Jove bless Jupiter.

Query, Glorious Wong! Is jack shit going on on Pluto or its moons? Would that be a half-decent place to put the now-extinct corp that made my character on?

Also, obligatory "Where the hell is Coop and what the hell is he doing that surviving a fight against him is a mark of skill for Avalonians?"

What ever he wants I guess.

fuckin spacenoids can't deal with a little rain? No wonder the cosplayers are holding out.

throwing infinite missles at the smallest annoyance

You know, Wong never specified WHICH Coop it was.

could be Evil Coop for all we know.

Somehow, it's more unsettling than empty space.

As the main body of the storm rolls past you, the rain continues. You feel almost asleep, mentally, but your body is alive with nervous energy, manipulating the thrusters for optimum performance on instinct alone. As the sky turns black, you can see a faint glow up ahead through your backup sensors.

"We're almost there." Garret promises, "We've got city lights."

"Praise Minerva. What are you going to do first?" You stretch in your cockpit chair, popping your back and shifting around to get comfortable after hours of this nonstop flight.

"Put my feet up, have a smoke, get my feet rubbed by a girl who isn't wearing enough to be concealing a weapon, and take a long, hot bath." He groans suddenly, his happy dreams shattered by cruel reality, "I'm going to be up all night filing my report, aren't I?"

"Ayup. I'll be thinking of you while I'm enjoying a thick, Jovian-style cheeseburger and a milkshake and doing some serious recon on the best local fishing spots. You know, commoner things." You joke, your stomach rumbling at the thought of crispy pickles and a warm bun, of real grilled beef and bacon crackling between your teeth.

"La la~ Lalalalala~" A soft, female voice croons across the comms, "Lalalala~ lala~"

>[Drop below the treeline and hide]
>[Book it for the city as fast as you can]

Na thats saved for the evil multiverse were going to see in the four season where we have to fight everys evil bearded clones

>Lalalala
>[Book it for the city as fast as you can]
Oh god watch out for lasers to start firing from every direction

>[Book it for the city as fast as you can]
Run bitch run!

>>[Drop below the treeline and hide]
We are not going to outrace another sniper or aerial unit. Get low, get to cover, and rely on Garma's eyes to point a way for us.

An absolute disregard for collateral damage.

>[Drop below the treeline and hide]

But it's nighttime.

>>[Book it for the city as fast as you can]

Then why the hell would you want us to be flying in the open air when we are hella crippled? We are not going to make any dodges and our shields are crapped. The only one who is in good shape is Biggs and he's freaking out!

the might should, would have infrared and stuff like that. it's better to not risk it.

>>Lalalala
What's this a reference to?

You're right.
Mr Wong have deleted and changed my vote from running to
>>[Drop below the treeline and hide]

And we shoot great gouts of flame whenever we move anywhere. Unless you want to try dragging garma's mech on foot?
More time we stay still the more time they have to find us and shoot us, at least if we are moving we will be harder to hit.

Because they might be in the forest and I want to get away as quick as possible

In gundam when one person is fighting everyone hears this noise over the comms then beams shoot out from everywhere

Shouldn't we be in radio contact at this point? Call for backup

That's not the newtype chime sound.

No its lalah's when shes using the Elmet

Who said anything about staying still? We can move and hide you know. As is, we need cover and if any of us take a heavy hit we are toast.

We are in no way shape or form capable of risking the fastest option. If they fire at us, we are toast and their sniper cannons have proven quite well what they can do to something in the open sky. Cut off their line of sight, don't let them get a solid bead, use fake outs with missiles, just don't blindly flee!

Oh god, its cat eared Hanoi Hannah

The only thing I can think of that would make me freak out from someone going 'Lalala' is from Drakengard.

And that's only if it's done with a deep manly voice.

They move faster than us on the ground before garma's mech had its leg shot off, you really think we can out run them or that trees will provide much protection from mech weaponry?

FATIMA IS HERE!?

Thank God, we're safe with the Tarrasque around.

>mfw it's always a tie

When in doubt run away. Its what Jojo would have done.

Thats if we don't hover. If there is a huge group there already, us being in the sky will end us anyways. Likewise, we could use that huge emergency missile to blow up far away from us and draw their attention. We do not want them to see us. We do not want to chase us. Because if that is a Ace or Paladin, we will die in the open field.

>>[Drop below the treeline and hide]

>dont want them to see us
>suggests firing a huge missile
Putting aside that they might just see us firing the giant missile, whats to stop them following the trails back to where we shot it from?
How do you plan to sneak in a god damn mecha anyway? The motherfuckers could just follow the sounds of our giant machines moving through a forest.

this gave me an idea.
could we use the missiles to propel ouselves?
like an emergency boost of sorts?

I dont think a rocket made to carry 0.5 tons will help us much.

First off, it's raining and the middle of the night. So long as we're smart and time it, the thing they'd see first is the explosion, not the smoke trail. If we do it just before entering the trees, the angle could make it look like a crash. As for noise, rain, ambience, and not being stupid with our movements would help lessen the volume.

You momentarily freeze up, "We need to get out of here." You state plainly, "Simon, Garret, you guys ready? Into the trees! GO GO GO FUCKING GO GO AND DON'T STOP GO!"

Simon may be freaking out, but he complies, the three of you dropping down into the wet mass of leaves and branches and trying very hard to stay inconspicuous. The rain is coming to a stop, and the clouds part.

Something glittering white is silhouetted against the moon, between you and the city. Something about the feet reminds you of high-heeled shoes, while two impractically curving wing-like structures hang down on either side of the body.

"Lalalala lalala~ Where are you, warriors?" The mech's head turns from side to side as it descends like some eldritch angel to hover above the treetops.

>[Come out]
>[Stay hidden]

>>[Stay hidden]
It might be a good idea to ditch the suits.

>>[Stay hidden]

>>[Stay hidden]
Jesus christ

>>[Stay hidden]

Oh my god it's so

fucking ugly and gaudy holy shit who the fuck lets anyone color a machine like that I think I'm going to vomit.

I am not a tracker or anything but I thinks mechs generally suck shit at being stealthy unless they are actually made for it. Three 40ish ton mechs which have to move awkwardly and clumsily because they have to support each other are going to make a shit ton of noise moving through undergrowth. Never mind someone could just take a quick jump and spot the trail of broken trees.