http://taharqa.org/FlamingDevilMonkeys/index.php http://taharqa.org/FlamingDevilMonkeys/index.php?action=news&log=22&first=0 Jesus couldn't take all the credit for the score. Jimmy Cutter, one of the Monkey's newest techs, had played him a beautiful through ball. Playboy, who was defending him, clearly had not anticipated the pass, and Cruz blew past him to get on the ball. The only man left to beat now was Meatball who was playing goalkeeper. Despite his heavy frame, Garibaldi was surprisingly nimble on his feet and had a pretty good sense of the game (he said it was "part of his heritage," whatever that meant). But speed kills, as they say. It didn't hurt that Meatball was still suffering the aftereffects of the dual ammo explosions he suffered on Tomans. Cruz softly lobbed the ball directly over his head, as Garibaldi charged toward him. Then he turned on the afterburners and raced around Meatball to softly tap the ball into the corner of the goal. After exchanging high-fives with Jimmy and Juice, Jesus couldn't help rubbing it in a little bit. "Better luck next time, cabrone." He shouted at Ishmael. Then he smacked Meatball, who was bent over clutching his thighs, on the butt. "You ran like 2 meters, Meatball. You need to get in shape." "Why don't you try scoring a kill like that on the real battlefield next time?" Ishmael responded. Cruz waved him off, but inwardly he grimaced. Cruz had scored a kill on his very first mission more than a year ago, but since that time hadn't been very successful. To top it off, in the Monkeys first engagement with the One-Eyed Jacks on Giausar, he had gotten his nightsky shot to hell. He had escaped unscathed, but the mech was beyond repair. Luckily, Ford had just finished fixing up one of the Jade Falcon light mechs, a Hellion, that the Monkeys had salvaged from Tomans. Still, it was the second mech that Cruz had been shot out of in the last year and a half of action. Score it 1-2, Cruz thought without humor. "We going to keep playing or what?" said Kati Wilhelm impatiently as she held onto the ball. "Yes, lets go. I need to show Cruz how to really play," said Taharqa, as he rustled Jesus's hair familiarly. He was a bit of a nut for the game of football. Apparently it had been a popular pastime within his former Clan, the Fire Mandrills. It provided one of the only ways for the various warring kindraa to set aside their differences. It also served the purpose in all military organizations of helping to briefly erase the differences of rank and privilege. Football was also a bit of national obsession on the Trinity worlds where Cruz originated. He was certainly happy that Taharqa insisted on this game, rather than something like lacrosse, or even worse, that abomination known as "American football." "Sorry, but the game is going to have to wait." Monk slowly approached the middle of the field, wearing his field uniform instead of athletic wear. "We just heard from the Marik Militia HQ. It looks like the Jacks are on the move again. They are making a beeline straight for the warehouse district. The Knights are nowhere to be found so we are going to have to hold the line here without any backup." "Whatya mean the Knights are nowhere to be found," Cruz asked. The Knights of the Inner Sphere were spearheading this counterattack operation on Giausar. Without them, facing the heavy and assault units of the One-Eyed Jacks was a lot less of an attractive proposition. "Your guess is as good as mine, DJ. They seem to have lifted off, but the situation is still unclear." Monk never lost his cool. "What I can tell you is that our position appears to be at the center of the Jacks advance, so we all need to suit up ASAP, and get ready for some serious action." Despite the tension of the battlefield, Taharqa's voice came through clearly in DJ's ear. "Gorillas and Baboons, we will hold position here. Use that elevated freeway as cover and let the Jacks come to us. Spider Monkeys, get into the rear and create some chaos, but pick your targets carefully. You don't have the weight to go toe-to-toe with those big boys." Roger that, DJ thought as he goosed the speed on his new Hellion mech. The One-Eyed Jacks were well known for their heavy emphasis on heavy and assault mechs. Even with the clan-tech weaponry on his ride, Jesus knew that he needed to keep his distance from the bad boys and use his greater maneuverability to his advantage. Speed kills, he thought. As he passed into the intersection between the giant looming warehouses of the spaceport district, he caught movement to his left and saw a Warhammer mech lumbering down the street toward him. He lifted his ER medium laser and snapped off a shot that went wide. Then he gunned his mech to top speed and passed through the intersection before the other mech could get a shot off. If he was fast enough, he could loop around the block quickly and hit that mech in the rear as it tried to follow him. He briefly hesitated and then engaged the myomer acceleration equipment on his Hellion mech. He felt his body being pushed back into the command couch as his mech rapidly accelerated to roughly 140 kph. Shit, this is fast! he thought as he rapidly approached a t-intersection. He jerked his mech to the left. Too fast! The right foot of his mech skidded out from underneath him and then his stomach lurched into the air as the entire mech went horizontal and spun out of control toward the concrete slab of another warehouse. The impact rattled his bones and left him momentarily stunned. The Hellion mech had blasted through the concrete wall and lay in a pile of rubble and lay face up looking at the new hole he had ripped in the wall and ceiling. He could feel blood trickle down his lips and mouth from his nose, but he couldn't move his body. out of the corner of his eye, he could see systems reports of armor and some internal damage, but nothing looked redlined. He began to feel the thudding vibrations at the same time that his seismic sensors picked up a red dot approaching his position. The warhammer was coming to investigate. Cruz knew what would happen once it got here. It wouldn't even need to use its weapons. It could just take one of its giant metal boots directly to his cockpit and that we be all she wrote for Jesus "DJ" Cruz. He had to get up! He tried to move his body. The pain was agony, but he gritted his teeth and moved his arms to the controls. The shooting pain brought an involuntary scream from his lips and his vision swam. Dimly, he thought he heard someone on the line yelling his name (Hawkeye? Juice?). The Warhammer was getting closer. Slowly, Cruz brought the Hellion into a crouching position. His left shoulder was damaged, but luckily his legs and his jump jets were fully intact. As the Warhammer strove into view and brought up its PPCs to finish off its quarry, Cruz fired all seven of his jump jets and rocketed skyward. The Hellion caught part of the remaining ceiling on the way up, but DJ was able to maintain an arc that moved him up and backwards, out of harm's way. His arc gave him a bird's eye view of the battlefield. The Monkeys and the Jacks were facing off over an empty patch of dirt in between the looming warehouses. Neither side dared to brave the open no-mans' land and so they traded potshots from behind cover. As the Hellion reached the apogee of its flight, DJ noticed a Templar omnimech in the center of the Jack's line. Despite the stars in his eyes, he was able to recall an important fact from the intelligence briefing that the Monkeys had recieved on the Jacks. As he came down for a landing, DJ opened up his frequency. "Ramrod is here! Templar omnimech in the center of the Jack's line. Its the Jack's commander!" "Roger that, DJ." came Hawkeye's voice. "You ok? That looked like a rough fall." "I'm fine." DJ responded quickly. Now he just needed to figure out how to sneak up on that damn Warhammer... In the end, DJ still didn't get a kill. The Monkeys were able to put down Ramrod's mech, however, and Cruz liked to think he deserved some credit for that. After their commander went down, the fight went out of the Jacks and they quickly withdrew. Cruz was now being debriefed by Monk. "You are a talented pilot, DJ, but you need to exercise a little better judgement in the future." Monk explained calmly. "Remember, speed can kill." http://taharqa.org/FlamingDevilMonkeys/index.php?action=news&log=26&first=0 "What do you mean you cannot engage?" Lee was shouting into the intercom, partly because of the noise of the Karnov's rotors above, but more out of sheer frustration. "You need to keep those turrets occupied or my birds are going to be big fat targets when we come in. You have an assignment, soldier!" "We are having enough trouble with these tanks. I am not getting in range of those turrets!" The voice on the other end paused and then added, "and we don't take orders from a bunch of ground pounders, anyway." Lee held back his rising rage. It would do little good now. "Get Halberd Actual on the horn now!" Silence. "Now!" Nothing. He slammed down the radio in frustration and surveyed the manufacturing facility fast approaching through the windows of the Karnov's cockpit. What to do? The Monkeys attacking from the west were depending on his team getting inside that control center. Without it, they would have no way to gain entry to the facility, not to mention the turrets. Hal's Heinous Halberds had dropped the ball on his team, and if he backed out, then he would drop the ball on the Monkeys. Too many moving parts and too little coordination between all of these mercenaries. The Halberds may be no better than a bunch of pirates, but Vlad's Volunteers were professionals. "Corporal, you need to bring us in as fast as you can if we are going to beat the heat. Evasive maneuvers when you get into range of those turrets." He said. "Yes, sir" came the strained response. He could see the concern on the pilot's face. He turned and made his way back into the Karnov's hold where his platoon waited for him. he keyed the frequency to patch his message into the other Karnov carrying Bravo platoon. "OK, listen up lads. We are going to have to come in hotter than expected. Squads will jump at short intervals, starting with my squad. We are going to be scattered, but re-group around squad leaders. I will land squads A and B on the roof of the facility and we will attack from its rear entrance. The rest of you should assault from the front. You all have the skill to do this, just keep your head in the game. lets go, Volunteers!" He saw the looks on their faces, but they all gave him their best grunts. "Brace for evasive maneuvers," called the pilot. Lee grabbed his handle as the Karnov swayed from one side to the next. The clamshell armor of his troops banged off the metal sides of the Karnov, making for an interesting symphony that was punctuated by the sounds of large-scale weapon fire sizzling past the Karnov. The rear platform of the Karnov began to open like the maw of some great beast, revealing a parched desert zooming by below and the Karnov carrying Bravo back and to the right. Soldiers moved into position as he moved into an egress position, his squad mates directly behind him. Suddenly a streak of something slammed into the other Karnov's left wing, completely destroying its left-hand rotor. It spiraled out of control and crashed to the ground in a fiery explosion. Jesus, what could have survived that? Behind him heard groans of despair from his troops. He turned to them with a steely gaze that he did not feel. "We will mourn the dead later. We jump on my mark. 10..9..8...7..6...5...4..3...2...1...Jump!" He was out the door and in free fall, sensing his troopers falling behind him. They were directly over the control center within the walls of the facility, but their speed was going to carry them over. He made some slight course corrections with his rocket packet and then as the ground rushed up, he lit a plasma column that lowered him slowly to the roof of the control center, as light as a feather. He sprang up from a slight crouch with his assault rifle in hand, scanning for enemies. His men were scattered to hell and back by the speed of the insertion. Heavy machine gun fire sounded from below. He looked around at his men. Less than a squad had landed on target. "Turner get a grenade into that MG nest. Jenkins and Thompson, get down and blast a hole through that rear entrance. We need to occupy their attention and give the platoon a chance to regroup." Turner inched his way on his belly toward the roof's edge, hunting for the location of the MG, while Jenkins and Thompson lit their jet packs and jumped over the opposite edge. Then a shot cracked in the air just above Lee's head. Sniper! Guessing at the direction, he threw himself into cover behind some radar equipment. Another shot ricocheted off the steel dish above his head. Making some mental calculations, he relayed the sniper's probable position to the rest of the platoon, hoping someone would have a better shot. Then he heard the sound of detonation below, followed by automatic weapons fire and strangled grunt. Felix ran to the roof's edge and saw Jenkins lying in a pool of his own blood, shot through the neck and bleeding out. Thompson was lying behind the cover of a nearby rock with a nasty looking wound through his leg. Wild and inaccurate automatic weapons fire sprayed the rock and terrain in front of him. He looked up at Lee expectantly. Lee made hand motions and then uncorked a smoke grenade and threw it into the hole opened by the Jenkins's detonation. Thompson simultaneously threw a frag grenade. Lee waited for the explosion and then he was over the edge, noting with satisfaction the screams that followed it. As he hit the ground, he let off a shot with his underslung grenade launcher into the smoky haze. It was a risky maneuver in such tight space, and shards from the blast belted him and cut his face in several places. No one returned fire, however. He now moved more cautiously into the smoke-filled building, assault rifle held in front of him menacingly. Thompson followed slowly with a noticeable limp. There was nothing they could do for Jenkins. An explosion from the front of the building reminded Lee of Turner's orders. "Turner get down here via the back," he voiced into his intercom. He caught movement coming out of the smoke and dropped a wild-eyed man in a technician's uniform with a three-round burst to the chest. He felt, before he heard, bullets fly over his head and ricochet against the wall to his left, followed by a short concentrated burst from behind him. "Got him" said Thompson. Lee nodded his thanks. Through the heavy smoke, he could make out the main exit from the entry room they were now in and signaled Thompson to slowly move toward it. However, before Thompson could move, two men in military uniforms burst through another door to the right which had been partially obscured by the heavy smoke still in the room. They were so close that Lee could see the sweat beading up on their foreheads. Luckily, they were as surprised as he and Jenkins. Lee swiveled, firing from the hip. One of the soldiers clutched his leg and went down, but the other one emptied his clip into Thompson, who groaned and slid to the floor. Then Lee returned the favor and the unarmored soldier disintegrated into a mass of blood and flesh. Lee scrambled to his feet and turned to check on Thompson, only to notice at the last second the tech creeping up on him with a shotgun held at the ready. The tech unleashed a blast directly to his torso. Lee flew back a meter and landed in a heap, his body sliding across the blood-slicked floor. He couldn't breathe or move. The pain in his chest was unbearable. He looked up in time to see the tech's head explode in a shower of gore and then everything went black... Lee lay propped up against the side of the building, as a medtech attended to his wound. The tech's aim had been poor and because the blast had crossed his armor at an oblique angle, he had luckily escaped major injury. Nonetheless, the raw impact of the shotgun shell against his body had broken several ribs. His breathing was labored and painful but the shock of the Volunteer's losses was such that he barely noticed the pain. The butcher's bill had been high today. 20 troopers from Bravo dead, and 5 more from his Able, with plenty more wounded besides. But even their casualties were nothing compared to what had happened to the rest of Vlad's Volunteers. Vlad Rostov himself had led the other five platoons on another target here on Gienah, but they had been abandoned at the last second by their allied mech support, an outfit by the name of the "Shady Ladies." Rostov's troops had fought well, but they had died to a man. His best friend and mentor was dead as were the Volunteers, for all intents and purposes. Lee almost wished that he had died from that shotgun blast as well, to save him the pain of this loss. The crunch of boots across the rubble alerted him to the presence of two large men, still clothed in their mechwarrior cooling suits. Taharqa Bane and Tsepo Mbeki, the CO and XO, respectively, of the Flaming Devil Monkeys. He had gotten to know them during the joint planning sessions for the raid. Given the circus freak nature of the Monkeys, he hadn't expected them to be the ones to hold it together during the fight, but they had certainly pulled what was left of the Volunteers out of the fire. They had secured the area around the Karnov crash and retrieved survivors and in the end they had engaged those turrets themselves in order to give the Volunteers a fighting chance. "Captain Lee, we were sorry to hear about your losses today." Mbeki began. "Your men fought well, Captain" added Bane. "Thank you both." Lee responded through clenched teeth. It still hurt to breathe, much less talk. Mbeki glanced at Bane and then continued, "Captain, we have a proposition for you. You don't have enough resources to continue as a separate unit. The Monkeys are in need of infantry personnel to bolster our forces. We would like to offer you and your men the chance to join us." Lee winced. By "resources," Mbeki meant his men. "Sorry, but I don't think I am going to be continuing in this line of work. I think it might be time that I retire to something a little less .. eventful." Mbeki smiled. "We are not interested in a frontline infantry unit. We have a shortage of security personnel to guard our assets. For the most part, we cobbled together a mix of bouncers and thugs when we left Solaris. We need someone to mold that into a professional security force that we can rely upon. How does that sound?" Lee looked out at the heavy smoke still rising from the crashed Karnov in the distance. Light security duty and a home for his remaining soldiers? That might not be so bad. Not bad at all. "Okay, Mr. Mbeki. I will discuss this with my men tonight and let you know." Mbeki nodded and Bane jumped in. "You might also like to know that the Monkey's first order of business will be securing a ride off of this planet. It seems that our transport has been hijacked by one of the mercenary groups. A group known as the 'Shady Ladies.'" Bane looked Lee in the eye. "Are you interested in some payback, Captain?" http://taharqa.org/FlamingDevilMonkeys/index.php?action=news&log=25&first=0 "What do you mean you cannot engage?" Lee was shouting into the intercom, partly because of the noise of the Karnov's rotors above, but more out of sheer frustration. "You need to keep those turrets occupied or my birds are going to be big fat targets when we come in. You have an assignment, soldier!" "We are having enough trouble with these tanks. I am not getting in range of those turrets!" The voice on the other end paused and then added, "and we don't take orders from a bunch of ground pounders, anyway." Lee held back his rising rage. It would do little good now. "Get Halberd Actual on the horn now!" Silence. "Now!" Nothing. He slammed down the radio in frustration and surveyed the manufacturing facility fast approaching through the windows of the Karnov's cockpit. What to do? The Monkeys attacking from the west were depending on his team getting inside that control center. Without it, they would have no way to gain entry to the facility, not to mention the turrets. Hal's Heinous Halberds had dropped the ball on his team, and if he backed out, then he would drop the ball on the Monkeys. Too many moving parts and too little coordination between all of these mercenaries. The Halberds may be no better than a bunch of pirates, but Vlad's Volunteers were professionals. "Corporal, you need to bring us in as fast as you can if we are going to beat the heat. Evasive maneuvers when you get into range of those turrets." He said. "Yes, sir" came the strained response. He could see the concern on the pilot's face. He turned and made his way back into the Karnov's hold where his platoon waited for him. he keyed the frequency to patch his message into the other Karnov carrying Bravo platoon. "OK, listen up lads. We are going to have to come in hotter than expected. Squads will jump at short intervals, starting with my squad. We are going to be scattered, but re-group around squad leaders. I will land squads A and B on the roof of the facility and we will attack from its rear entrance. The rest of you should assault from the front. You all have the skill to do this, just keep your head in the game. lets go, Volunteers!" He saw the looks on their faces, but they all gave him their best grunts. "Brace for evasive maneuvers," called the pilot. Lee grabbed his handle as the Karnov swayed from one side to the next. The clamshell armor of his troops banged off the metal sides of the Karnov, making for an interesting symphony that was punctuated by the sounds of large-scale weapon fire sizzling past the Karnov. The rear platform of the Karnov began to open like the maw of some great beast, revealing a parched desert zooming by below and the Karnov carrying Bravo back and to the right. Soldiers moved into position as he moved into an egress position, his squad mates directly behind him. Suddenly a streak of something slammed into the other Karnov's left wing, completely destroying its left-hand rotor. It spiraled out of control and crashed to the ground in a fiery explosion. Jesus, what could have survived that? Behind him heard groans of despair from his troops. He turned to them with a steely gaze that he did not feel. "We will mourn the dead later. We jump on my mark. 10..9..8...7..6...5...4..3...2...1...Jump!" He was out the door and in free fall, sensing his troopers falling behind him. They were directly over the control center within the walls of the facility, but their speed was going to carry them over. He made some slight course corrections with his rocket packet and then as the ground rushed up, he lit a plasma column that lowered him slowly to the roof of the control center, as light as a feather. He sprang up from a slight crouch with his assault rifle in hand, scanning for enemies. His men were scattered to hell and back by the speed of the insertion. Heavy machine gun fire sounded from below. He looked around at his men. Less than a squad had landed on target. "Turner get a grenade into that MG nest. Jenkins and Thompson, get down and blast a hole through that rear entrance. We need to occupy their attention and give the platoon a chance to regroup." Turner inched his way on his belly toward the roof's edge, hunting for the location of the MG, while Jenkins and Thompson lit their jet packs and jumped over the opposite edge. Then a shot cracked in the air just above Lee's head. Sniper! Guessing at the direction, he threw himself into cover behind some radar equipment. Another shot ricocheted off the steel dish above his head. Making some mental calculations, he relayed the sniper's probable position to the rest of the platoon, hoping someone would have a better shot. Then he heard the sound of detonation below, followed by automatic weapons fire and strangled grunt. Felix ran to the roof's edge and saw Jenkins lying in a pool of his own blood, shot through the neck and bleeding out. Thompson was lying behind the cover of a nearby rock with a nasty looking wound through his leg. Wild and inaccurate automatic weapons fire sprayed the rock and terrain in front of him. He looked up at Lee expectantly. Lee made hand motions and then uncorked a smoke grenade and threw it into the hole opened by the Jenkins's detonation. Thompson simultaneously threw a frag grenade. Lee waited for the explosion and then he was over the edge, noting with satisfaction the screams that followed it. As he hit the ground, he let off a shot with his underslung grenade launcher into the smoky haze. It was a risky maneuver in such tight space, and shards from the blast belted him and cut his face in several places. No one returned fire, however. He now moved more cautiously into the smoke-filled building, assault rifle held in front of him menacingly. Thompson followed slowly with a noticeable limp. There was nothing they could do for Jenkins. An explosion from the front of the building reminded Lee of Turner's orders. "Turner get down here via the back," he voiced into his intercom. He caught movement coming out of the smoke and dropped a wild-eyed man in a technician's uniform with a three-round burst to the chest. He felt, before he heard, bullets fly over his head and ricochet against the wall to his left, followed by a short concentrated burst from behind him. "Got him" said Thompson. Lee nodded his thanks. Through the heavy smoke, he could make out the main exit from the entry room they were now in and signaled Thompson to slowly move toward it. However, before Thompson could move, two men in military uniforms burst through another door to the right which had been partially obscured by the heavy smoke still in the room. They were so close that Lee could see the sweat beading up on their foreheads. Luckily, they were as surprised as he and Jenkins. Lee swiveled, firing from the hip. One of the soldiers clutched his leg and went down, but the other one emptied his clip into Thompson, who groaned and slid to the floor. Then Lee returned the favor and the unarmored soldier disintegrated into a mass of blood and flesh. Lee scrambled to his feet and turned to check on Thompson, only to notice at the last second the tech creeping up on him with a shotgun held at the ready. The tech unleashed a blast directly to his torso. Lee flew back a meter and landed in a heap, his body sliding across the blood-slicked floor. He couldn't breathe or move. The pain in his chest was unbearable. He looked up in time to see the tech's head explode in a shower of gore and then everything went black... Lee lay propped up against the side of the building, as a medtech attended to his wound. The tech's aim had been poor and because the blast had crossed his armor at an oblique angle, he had luckily escaped major injury. Nonetheless, the raw impact of the shotgun shell against his body had broken several ribs. His breathing was labored and painful but the shock of the Volunteer's losses was such that he barely noticed the pain. The butcher's bill had been high today. 20 troopers from Bravo dead, and 5 more from his Able, with plenty more wounded besides. But even their casualties were nothing compared to what had happened to the rest of Vlad's Volunteers. Vlad Rostov himself had led the other five platoons on another target here on Gienah, but they had been abandoned at the last second by their allied mech support, an outfit by the name of the "Shady Ladies." Rostov's troops had fought well, but they had died to a man. His best friend and mentor was dead as were the Volunteers, for all intents and purposes. Lee almost wished that he had died from that shotgun blast as well, to save him the pain of this loss. The crunch of boots across the rubble alerted him to the presence of two large men, still clothed in their mechwarrior cooling suits. Taharqa Bane and Tsepo Mbeki, the CO and XO, respectively, of the Flaming Devil Monkeys. He had gotten to know them during the joint planning sessions for the raid. Given the circus freak nature of the Monkeys, he hadn't expected them to be the ones to hold it together during the fight, but they had certainly pulled what was left of the Volunteers out of the fire. They had secured the area around the Karnov crash and retrieved survivors and in the end they had engaged those turrets themselves in order to give the Volunteers a fighting chance. "Captain Lee, we were sorry to hear about your losses today." Mbeki began. "Your men fought well, Captain" added Bane. "Thank you both." Lee responded through clenched teeth. It still hurt to breathe, much less talk. Mbeki glanced at Bane and then continued, "Captain, we have a proposition for you. You don't have enough resources to continue as a separate unit. The Monkeys are in need of infantry personnel to bolster our forces. We would like to offer you and your men the chance to join us." Lee winced. By "resources," Mbeki meant his men. "Sorry, but I don't think I am going to be continuing in this line of work. I think it might be time that I retire to something a little less .. eventful." Mbeki smiled. "We are not interested in a frontline infantry unit. We have a shortage of security personnel to guard our assets. For the most part, we cobbled together a mix of bouncers and thugs when we left Solaris. We need someone to mold that into a professional security force that we can rely upon. How does that sound?" Lee looked out at the heavy smoke still rising from the crashed Karnov in the distance. Light security duty and a home for his remaining soldiers? That might not be so bad. Not bad at all. "Okay, Mr. Mbeki. I will discuss this with my men tonight and let you know." Mbeki nodded and Bane jumped in. "You might also like to know that the Monkey's first order of business will be securing a ride off of this planet. It seems that our transport has been hijacked by one of the mercenary groups. A group known as the 'Shady Ladies.'" Bane looked Lee in the eye. "Are you interested in some payback, Captain?" http://taharqa.org/FlamingDevilMonkeys/index.php?action=news&log=24&first=0 To: Major Derek Hanson, acting CO of the One-Eyed Jacks From: Mercenary Review and Bonding Commission Re: Bond for the recovery of Colonel Darrel Duke This notification serves as a receipt that the 2,000,000 C-bill bond for the recovery of Colonel Darrel "Ramrod" Duke has been received by the MRBC and will be processed shortly. Once Colonel Duke is again in your custody, the bond will be paid out to the mercenary unit known as the Flaming Devil Monkeys. The commander of that unit wished to forward the following message to you: "Here is Ramrod back. He is recovering nicely. Just be glad that it was us who picked him up and not the Mariks." http://taharqa.org/FlamingDevilMonkeys/index.php?action=news&log=23&first=0 Bob Schultz Memorial Field, Warehouse District Glen Hall, Giausar, Lyran Alliance 5 September 3068 Jesus couldn't take all the credit for the score. Jimmy Cutter, one of the Monkey's newest techs, had played him a beautiful through ball. Playboy, who was defending him, clearly had not anticipated the pass, and Cruz blew past him to get on the ball. The only man left to beat now was Meatball who was playing goalkeeper. Despite his heavy frame, Garibaldi was surprisingly nimble on his feet and had a pretty good sense of the game (he said it was "part of his heritage," whatever that meant). But speed kills, as they say. It didn't hurt that Meatball was still suffering the aftereffects of the dual ammo explosions he suffered on Tomans. Cruz softly lobbed the ball directly over his head, as Garibaldi charged toward him. Then he turned on the afterburners and raced around Meatball to softly tap the ball into the corner of the goal. After exchanging high-fives with Jimmy and Juice, Jesus couldn't help rubbing it in a little bit. "Better luck next time, cabrone." He shouted at Ishmael. Then he smacked Meatball, who was bent over sucking in air, on the butt. "You ran like 2 meters, Meatball. You need to get in shape." "Why don't you try scoring a kill like that on the real battlefield next time?" Ishmael responded. Cruz waved him off, but inwardly he grimaced. Cruz had scored a kill on his very first mission more than a year ago, but since that time things had not gone well. To top it off, in the Monkeys first engagement with the One-Eyed Jacks here on Giausar, he had gotten his Nightsky shot to hell. He had escaped unscathed, but the mech was beyond repair. Luckily, Ford had just finished fixing up one of the Jade Falcon light mechs that the Monkeys had salvaged from Tomans. Still, it was the second mech that Cruz had been shot out of in the last year and a half of action. Score it 1-2, Cruz thought without humor. "We going to keep playing or what?" said Kati Wilhelm impatiently as she held onto the ball. "Yes, lets go. I need to show Cruz how to really play," said Taharqa, as he rustled Jesus's hair familiarly. Taharqa was a bit of a nut for the game of football. Apparently it had been a popular pastime within his former Clan, the Fire Mandrills. It provided one of the only ways for the various warring kindraa to set aside their differences. It also served the purpose in all military organizations of helping to briefly erase the differences of rank and privilege. Football was also a bit of national obsession on the Trinity worlds where Cruz originated. He was certainly happy that Taharqa insisted on his people playing this game, rather than something like lacrosse, or even worse, that abomination known as "American football." "Sorry, but the game is going to have to wait." Monk slowly approached the middle of the field, wearing his field uniform instead of athletic wear. "We just heard from the Marik Militia HQ. It looks like the Jacks are on the move again. They are making a beeline straight for the warehouse district. The Knights are nowhere to be found so we are going to have to hold the line here without any backup." "Whatya mean the Knights are nowhere to be found?" Cruz asked. The Knights of the Inner Sphere were spearheading this FWL counterattack operation on Giausar. Without them, facing the heavy and assault units of the One-Eyed Jacks was a lot less of an attractive proposition. "Your guess is as good as mine, DJ. They seem to have lifted off, but the situation is still unclear." Monk never lost his cool. "What I can tell you is that our position appears to be at the center of the Jacks advance, so we all need to suit up ASAP, and get ready for some serious action." Despite the tension of the battlefield, Taharqa's voice came through clearly in DJ's ear. "Gorillas and Baboons, we will hold position here. Use that elevated freeway as cover and let the Jacks come to us. Spider Monkeys, get into the rear and create some chaos, but pick your targets carefully. You don't have the weight to go toe-to-toe with those big boys." Roger that, DJ thought as he goosed the speed on his new Hellion mech. The One-Eyed Jacks were well known for their emphasis on heavy and assault mechs. Even with the clan-tech weaponry on his ride, Jesus knew that he needed to keep his distance from the bad boys and use his greater maneuverability to his advantage. Speed kills, he thought. As he passed into the intersection between the giant looming warehouses of the spaceport district, he caught movement to his left and saw a Warhammer mech lumbering down the street toward him. He lifted his ER medium laser and snapped off a shot that went wide. Then he gunned his mech to top speed and passed through the intersection before the other mech could get a shot off. If he was fast enough, he could loop around the block quickly and hit that mech in the rear as it tried to follow him. He briefly hesitated and then engaged the myomer acceleration equipment on his Hellion mech. He felt his body being pushed back into the command couch as his mech rapidly accelerated to roughly 140 kph. Shit, this is fast! he thought as he rapidly approached a T-intersection. He jerked his mech to the left. Too fast! The right foot of his mech skidded out from underneath him and then his stomach lurched into the air as the entire mech went horizontal and spun out of control toward the concrete slab of another warehouse. The impact rattled his bones and left him momentarily stunned. The Hellion mech had blasted through the concrete wall and lay in a pile of rubble. It lay face up looking at the new hole he had ripped in the wall and ceiling. He could feel blood trickle down his lips and mouth from his nose, but he couldn't move his body. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see systems reports of armor loss and some internal damage, but nothing looked redlined. He began to feel the thudding vibrations at the same time that his seismic sensors picked up a red dot approaching his position. The warhammer was coming to investigate. Cruz knew what would happen once it got here. It wouldn't even need to use its weapons. It could just take one of its giant metal boots directly to his cockpit and that we be all she wrote for Jesus "DJ" Cruz. He had to get up! He tried to move his body. It was agony, but he gritted his teeth and moved his arms to the controls. The shooting pain brought an involuntary scream from his lips and his vision swam. Dimly he thought he heard someone on the line yelling his name (Hawkeye? Juice?). The Warhammer was getting closer. Slowly, Cruz brought the Hellion into a crouching position. His left shoulder was damaged, but luckily his legs and jump jets were fully intact. As the Warhammer strove into view and brought up its PPCs to finish off its quarry, Cruz fired all seven of his jump jets and rocketed skyward. The Hellion caught part of the remaining ceiling on the way up, but DJ was able to maintain an arc that moved him up and backwards, out of harm's way. His arc gave him a bird's eye view of the battlefield. The Monkeys and the Jacks were facing off over an empty patch of dirt in between the looming warehouses. Neither side dared to brave the open no-mans' land and so they traded potshots from behind cover. As the Hellion reached the apogee of its flight, DJ noticed a Templar omnimech in the center of the Jack's line. Despite his general fuzziness, he was able to recall an important fact from the intelligence briefing that the Monkeys had recieved on the Jacks. As he came down for a landing, DJ opened up his frequency. "Ramrod is here! Templar omnimech in the center of the Jack's line. Its the Jack's commander!" "Roger that, DJ." came Hawkeye's voice. "You ok? That looked like a rough fall." "I'm fine." DJ responded quickly. Now he just needed to figure out how to sneak up on that damn Warhammer... In the end, DJ still didn't get a kill. The Monkeys were able to put down Ramrod's mech, however, and Cruz liked to think he deserved some credit for that. After their commander went down, the fight went out of the Jacks and they quickly withdrew. Cruz was now being debriefed by Monk. "You are a talented pilot, DJ, but you need to exercise a little better judgement in the future." Monk explained calmly. "Remember, speed can kill." http://taharqa.org/FlamingDevilMonkeys/index.php?action=news&log=21&first=0 It was the quivering of the trees that gave her the first hint that the guests had arrived. Moments later, she caught reflections of metal and then the huge behemoths suddenly appeared in the clearing ahead, as if the forest had spit them out. "Contact! I have two lances of heavies and assaults. Definitely the Jacks." She shouted into her radio. "Roger, Juice. Now pull back." Monk's voice was as steady as if Jasmina had just announced she was going fishing. Her jump jets were already flaring when Monk responded and her mech rocketed into the sky and backward as she sought the cover of the forest. Her jump brought her to the attention of the One-Eyed Jacks. A few PPC shots attempted to pick her out, but merely sizzled the air behind her Stealth's arc. "OK, listen up people." Taharqa shouted over the com. "We have a lance moving to our left, and two lances moving to our right flank. Baboons. You will intercept the right flankers and hold them, while the rest of us take care of the remaining lance. Then we will swing around and hit the remaining two lances hard. Spider Monkeys, get forward and harass those bastards. Gorillas, stay with me on this hill and provide fire support." "You want us to engage two lances of assault mechs?" Corndog's voice sounded incredulous over the com. "Thats what he said, Corndog!" Playboy responded. "Our job is to hold them. Keep at a distance and slow them down until the cavalry arrives." Jasmina smiled. It was good to see Playboy beginning to act like a leader. He had come a long way. She re-engaged her jump jets, clearing the tree line. Before her arc took her back down into the forest, she ID'd a Gunslinger standing in cover on the rise ahead. http://taharqa.org/FlamingDevilMonkeys/index.php?action=news&log=20&first=0 Task Force Gauntlet, Inbound vector TT-4 Giausar, Bolan Province Lyran Alliance IE didn’t renew your contract when it ended a week ago. Looking for quick work and pulling in some favors from a few Free Worlds League government types, the CO signed you up to assist in a major push to seize Giausar from the Lyrans. Why doesn’t matter—it’s work, and with good pay at that. The downside? Serving under the arrogant Knights of the Inner Sphere. Of course, they do lead from the front, so they’re either really good at what they do or they’re out to seize all the glory. Either way, they’re your employer, so you do as they tell you. It’s all about the money, after all. Note: This is the first part of a two-part track. In the initial track, the Flaming Devil Monkeys must hold the line against a flanking attempt by the One-Eyed Jacks. Attacker: One-Eyed Jacks (one mech company) Defender: Flaming Devil Monkeys Objectives: Hold the line Optional Bonuses: Heavy winds http://taharqa.org/FlamingDevilMonkeys/index.php?action=news&log=19&first=0 To: Star Colonel Lee Newclay From: Star Commander Petar Subject: Tomans Raid Date: 2 August 3068 The Tomans raid was disastrous for our trinary. After landing in Nuevo Roma, we moved to engage a local mercenary garrison force named the Flaming Devil Monkeys. What we did not realize was that the Flaming Devil Monkeys were already engaged in a battle with the dezgra pirates known as the Green Ghosts. The treacherous mercenaries led us directly into the midst of the Green Ghosts and then circled around and hit us from behind. Despite being outnumbered our forces performed well, downing several of the Green Ghost mechs even as the treacherous Monkeys hit us from behind. Star Captain Oskar Pryde was killed by a shot to the head, placing me in command. It was at that time that the commander of the Monkeys made contact in order to offer me hegira. Imagine my shock to learn that their commanding officer was none other than Mechwarrior Taharqa, a bondsman from the Fire Mandrills that we made a warrior. He was lost in the Coventry campaign and assumed dead. He was my starmate in the Coventry campaign as well. Normally, I would not have accepted hegira from dezgra mercenaries, but at that point we only had three functional mechs and a few battle armor points left. Given Taharqa's background, I relented. I agreed that I would accept hegira after we collectively dealt with the Green Ghosts, which we did in short order. I understand that my protocol may have been inappropriate and I seek surkai in this matter. http://taharqa.org/FlamingDevilMonkeys/index.php?action=news&log=18&first=0 (Excerpted from Dawn of the Jihad, pg. 156-57) Grant’s Station Tango, Nuevo Roma Tomans, Lyran Alliance A standard downtime clause in your contract with IE allows roughly two months rest every year. When you ended up close enough to IE’s main research complex on Tomans—a sprawling university with its own mini-DropPort, seconds from a decent beach—your CO decided now was a good time to invoke that clause. Officially, you’re under a garrison contract, though IE recognizes the need for R&R. With the Falcons not too far away, it made sense to stay on guard. Only half your people were on leave when the Green Ghosts dropped in without calling first. People like that rarely get invited back. Attacker: Green Ghosts (two lances) and 4th Falcons Dragoons (two stars of mechs and one star of Elementals) Defender: Flaming Devil Monkeys Objectives: Protect research facility Optional Bonuses: Rainfall, Dusk/Dawn http://taharqa.org/FlamingDevilMonkeys/index.php?action=news&log=17&first=0 Grant’s Station Tango, Nuevo Roma Tomans, Lyran Alliance The tacos looked fabulous. Garibaldi leaned down to put his nose just above them and inhaled deeply. The smell of garlic, ginger, soy, and chile mixed with the powerful scent of succulent meat to make his mouth water. No longer able to corral his anticipation, Vincenzo greedily scooped up the first taco and took a bite. Pure bliss. His sources were clearly correct. This was the best bulgogi taco truck in town, and with a beautiful view of the beach. Vincenzo's love of purely Italian food was legendary, but never let it be said that he was a culinary elitist. As he settled in to his work, Garibaldi thought to himself, mercenary work doesn't seem so bad. A nice gig like this was a welcome change from the hounding press on Solaris VII. "You stuffing your face again, Meatball?" Vincenzo turned to see DJ's smiling face. He was clothed only in a bathing suit, muscles glistening beneath sand and sweat. Garibaldi would have given a sharp response, except for the fact that his mouth at that particular moment was indeed stuffed. By the time he finally washed down the taco with a cold beer, he had decided to shift tact and educate the poor uncultured young man. "This, my good friend, is a bulgogi taco, a unique food item blending the culinary traditions of several different peoples into an absolutely sublime-" "Shit, man. I know what a taco is. I am from Cerillos, remember?" DJ interrupted. "But what is all that stuff inside it? Thats not the way they make 'em back home." Seeing the futility of his mission, Garibaldi simply waved a dismissive hand and returned to his original project, delicately scooping up taco numero dos. Cruz continued on, undaunted. "Pretty sweet assignment, huh? Supposed to be garrison duty, but it sure feels like R&R." Just at that moment, the PDAs of both mechwarriors crackled on as if to correct Cruz. Monk's voice could be heard loud and clear. "Its the real thing this time folks. We have Green Ghosts inbound. I need all personnel back to HQ immediately. Prepare to mount up." Cruz and Garibaldi looked at each other for a second and then Cruz bolted into action. "Come on, Meatball. I'll give you ride on my hoverbike." Garibaldi looked down with longing at this final taco. Then he stuffed it into his mouth in one bite and ran after Cruz. "Locust on your rear, Meatball!" Instantly, Garibaldi turned and swiveled his Onslaught in an attempt to bring his harrasser under his guns. But it was to no avail, the more maneuverable Locust continued to circle around to his vulnerable rear. Suddenly a wave of blue fire hit the Locust followed by a Gauss shell that tore through its center torso. The Locust dropped to the pavement and slid haphazardly into the side of a building. It did not get up. "Thanks, Playboy." Garibaldi voiced over the comm. He looked down at the Locust. Locust IIC, he corrected himself. Most importantly, it wasn't a Green Ghost. Just as the Monkeys had moved to intercept the Green Ghosts, two stars of Jade Falcon mechs had combat dropped into Nuevo Roma, apparently looking to pick a fight with anyone and everyone. Vincenzo was more than happy to show them the way to the Green Ghosts, except the problem was that the Monkeys were caught right in the middle. Garibaldi felt sweat dripping down the back of his cooling vest. Things did not look good. "We are getting sandwiched here, people. I think it is time we make introductions." Apparently Taharqa had the same idea as Vincenzo. "On three, I want everyone to move at full speed into the southern end of the Green Ghost line. Push past the line, and lead the birds in behind you. 1 … 2 … 3!" Garibaldi pushed his 75-ton mech forward at full throttle, maintaining control as he took a sharp left. As he entered an intersection, a Green Ghost Griffin came into view. He raised the LBX autocannon on his arm and prepared to fire. "Meatball! On your right!" Vincenzo looked at this 360 display just in time to see a Falcon Summoner at nearly point blank range. Then blue lightning bathed his mech. Warning lights went off everywhere. Ammunition explosion, he thought. Then sudden horrible pain in his head, and blackness. it was the bass that brought him back. He was having a wonderful dream about a loverly opera performance, Verdi's La Traviata, he thought although such details are always murky in dreams. Then the bass started, completely jarring and ruining a lovely solo. He opened his eyes slowly to adjust to the light. Everything seemed a little out of focus. He was lying in a bed and seated next to him was DJ (or possibly two DJs), listening intently to something on his headphones, the bass all that was perceptible to Vincenzo. He groaned. DJ looked up. "You are awake! How you feeling? You took some shot there! Everything alright? You missed one hell of a fight!" Garibaldi finally found his voice. "DJ, slow the frak down." "Oh, sorry. That Summoner that blindsided you managed to cook off a couple of your ammo bins. Put you out of the action. Don't worry though, Hawkeye took care of him. Taharqa's plan worked brilliantly. We led the Birds right into the Ghosts and they ripped each other apart. We just picked apart the stragglers. Taharqa offered hegira to the remaining Falcons. You believe that shit? Hegira! Oh, hey, they were concerned about your eyesight from all of the feedback. How many fingers am I holding up?" Vincenzo's stomach growled loudly. He brushed DJ's hand away (two fingers? four fingers?). "Forget all that. I am starving. You remember that taco truck we visited…"