Hostile Witness charges forward, firing off a quick burst from its assault rifle, while the anti-materiel rifle's autoloader chambers another round.
Hostile Witness puts a well-aimed shot into the vulture harassing God-Bearer, drawing a pained piping cry from it. Behind the fight, a cluster of smaller vultures emerge from their nests, their smaller forms struggling against the howling winter winds.
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Sonya grins wolfishly as the creature hits the ground, its wings and body perforated by numerous autocannon rounds. Her victory is short-lived however, as The Way She Goes rocks forward from an unseen blow.
New warnings pop into her HUD and Duncan tells her of a proximity alert — one of the other beasts had closed the distance and hit her from behind. With a curse, Sonya turns her mech to face the fresh threat, dropping her chaingun. At this range, it would be near useless anyways. A plume of steam bursts from below, the heat from her cannon's rotary barrels sublimating the snow into gas. Through the haze, she engages her sensors and draws her mech's sidearms: a pistol and knife both longer than she was tall.
"New bogies, Cobalt!" she warns, before tackling into the vulture, using her mech's superior weight to try and push the beast away.
Seeing the vulture bounce away and onto the ground, Sonya's grin returns. She opens fire with her pistol, hurling the knife for good measure.
Free from the vulture throwing off her shot, Sonya turns back to its nest and the young crawling from it. Pushing her reactor past its safety parameter, she has Duncan run the telemetry data and fires a shell from the mortar mounted on her mech's right shoulder.
Slamming into the vulture that rushed her, Sonya spins around The Way She Goes and unleashes strikes with pistol and blade, injuring the creature. Her turret swivels, unleashing a burst of supporting fire that injures it further. The creature writhes in the snow, piping in outraged pain and digging the knife out of its flank.
Following this up with a mortar shot, Duncan's aim is spot-on as the nest and both vulture younglings are blown apart by the high explosive shell.
Meanwhile, the vulture locked in combat with God-Bearer thrashes at the mech, clawing away armor plates to reach the more vulnerable parts beneath. Sparks fly and warning lights start flashing on Baywulf's monitors as the vulture succeeds in ripping free a leg-plate!
6 Kinetic damage
Baywulf’s blade misses the ice vulture next to him, but he follows it up with quick strikes from his pistol and survival knife.
Baywulf's brutal melee continues--while the vulture ducks a blow from God-Bearer's massive blade, the mech's follow-up attacks land, dealing still more injuries to the already wounded creature. It staggers and pipes angrily, but doesn't fall.
Thrashing back to its feet, the vulture knocked down by The Way She Goes retaliates with another stream of acidic spittle.
3 Energy damage
Ignoring the alarms warning her of the ice creeping up Hostile Witness's chassis, Cascade deploys a set of stabilizing anchors, before firing both primary weapons. A burst of rounds from her assault rifle cuts down the vulture threatening God-Bearer, while a massive round from the anti-material rifle sails through the air past Onward's shoulder and slams into the vulture attacking Cobalt Leader.
"Not bad, she says with a nod, as the ice warnings grow ever more insistent.
The vulture menacing God-Bearer is finally put out of its misery by a burst of fire from Hostile Witness' rifle, but more of Malloree's attention is give to her AMR. She puts the shot cleanly through the vulture's torso, drawing little more than a surprised squeak from it as it staggers, all but slain outright!
With a shrill cry, one of the vulture younglings glide-crawls forward, pausing by the cooling body of one of the adults as it spits a glob of acid at Cascade's chassis. The globule falls short though, sizzling
An IFF ping lights up on your HUD--your frames are being swept by a mounted chassis' sensors! The signal is efficient, military-grade, and does not include an identification marker.
Wrench Witch attempts to quickly analyzes the scan.
After the scan, a couple of quick shots finish the green vulture off.
Metaphorically pouncing on the strange sensor sweep, Melodee's shamanic training pays off as she rapidly parses the signal. Sparri linguistic and coding markers--no surprises there--but whoever it is, they're running dark. Melodee can determine that the signal is originating from the north-west and is comparatively close, but the storm and ongoing battle prevents any deeper analysis. Certainly no visual confirmation can be had.
Having gotten what she can from the this newcomer's signal, she turns Onward's rifle on the remaining adult vulture; the burst isn't well aimed but the caliber is large enough to put it out of its misery.
Piping shrilly, the vulture young swoop in, spitting yet another stream of acid at God-Bearer. The already battered chassis suffers further indignity as the acid spills into the gaps between rent and buckled armor plates, eating into the more vital parts underneath.
Baywulf swaps to his rifle, firing off a shot with it at the young vulture nearest to him before firing his pistol at the other remaining enemy.
Baywulf brings his mech's rifle to bear on the vulture youngling menacing him; the first burst misses but the second catches in the side, sending it spinning away to bleed out into the snow. Turning towards the oncoming final vulture, God Bearer's pistol roars but the blinding storm and its strange glide-lope stride throw off his aim.
At first it seems the vulture intends to charge past God Bearer, but at the last second it jukes right and slams into the mech, its wing-claws puncturing Baywulf's cockpit--not enough to reach him, but it's alarming all the same.
Sonya bends her mech low to pick up the autocannon, its ammo feed magnetically snapping back into place. She lets the barrel spin up while emptying the clip of her pistol at the final vulture. Discarding the pistol. Finally, she lowers the autocannon for a burst of heavy rounds, in case the creature still lives.
Sonya's barrage is more than sufficient to put down the final vulture youngling, and no more of the creatures emerge from the nests--your chassis' motion sensors don't pick up any additional movement, either. Though the storm still rages, the worst of the danger is past.
"Well," Mallory adds after a few seconds of relative quiet, "at least it's not boring out here all the time."
"I would say so." Melodee replies. "Does anyone need a hand with repairs?"
"No damage to report on my end, just a bit of ice buildup I need to sort out."
Melodee laughs. "The ice always gets into everything. Anyone else?"
"Beasts of the driving snow chewed upon me. God-Bearer is damaged, and Leita urges caution."
"Let's take shelter in that treeline and make any necessary repairs." Sonya says, while having Duncan scan the area for further danger. "Don't get comfortable though, Archer is depending on us."
She scans the damage report for The Way She Goes. Nothing critically damaged, but the beasts had come close. She would use the time to patch up any holes and try to reach Command.
God-Bearer was dinged up, and bad. The treeline kept the worst of the blizzard at bay, and Baywulf's Sparri nano-weave parka kept the rest of the cold away.
He sets to work on repairing, patching the holes in it's plating and welding the gashes left by the ice vultures.
While the others work, Mallory keeps watch over the entrance from within the warmth and relative safety of Hostile Witness's cockpit.
"Anyone expend any ammo they need replaced?" Melodee asks. "I can do that at a cost, otherwise, I beleive we need to investigate that signal."
The copse doesn't completely block out the cutting wind and blinding snow, but it reduces it enough that repairs can get underway--handheld printers and canisters of greywash repair nanites re-splicing damaged cables and sealing up rent or punctured armor plates.
The work proceeds quickly but tensely with the awareness that there is another mech out there in the storm, watching you. Not long after Baywulf emerges from the cockpit the targeted scans start up: every 10-15 minutes, a focused sensor sweep locks on to each of your mechs, doubtless pulling weapon & system specs--if they're good, they might even have your pilot profiles. The undamaged Everest chassis post up at the treeline as pickets, but no attacks comes, nor any hails, just waves of sensor scans.
Clambering back into her cockpit and sealing it up again, Sonya attempts to raise DRC Command on the comms, but the storm's interference is relentless. The storm's leading edge may have even reached Ynn by now.
Cursing after her latest failure to raise DRC Command, Sonya opens up her squad's channel. "Alright, Cobalt. I'm sick of this voyeur. If repairs are finalized, let's get a move on."
"Agreed, Garuda. Someone ought to teach them it's rude to stare."
"While this isn't a *great* suggestion, we could spread out a bit and try some triangulation." Melodee suggests with some reluctance.
Taking a moment to weigh the relative pros and cons, Cascade gives her answer.
"Negative, Wrench Witch. Too many unknowns, lots of risks, few benefits."
"Cascade is right. Unless we know they're a threat, let's stay in formation."
Sonya switches her comms to general broadcast and delivers a warning to whoever was watching, letting Duncan translate her words into the planet's native tongue.
"This is Garuda, commanding officer of Cobalt Team of the Disaster Relief Corps. To the unknown mech scanning my team, be advised that we are here on a lawful search and rescue mission. We are not hostile, but we will retaliate if fired upon. If you are friendly, please respond. Over."
Sonya pushes a breath out from between pursed lips, waiting for a response. If none come, she will gather the team and continue pushing towards the last know location of Argent.
At first Sonya's challenge is met by only silence, but after several minutes the short-range comms channel lights up.
"This area is under th*skrrk*tection of the Blackhorn clan, your team has not been gra*skrrk*ermission to operate here. Turn back or we will turn you back, djöflaþrælar."
This message is disconcerting--the Blackhorn clan is large and comparatively powerful, but unless you've gone very far off-course this isn't their territory. The term djöflaþrælar, 'demon-slaves', has gained popularity with anti-NHP communities in the last year or so and is a insult saturated with contempt.
"How odd, the Blackhorn shouldn't be this farout...at least we are far, far more off course than expected."
Baywulf sneers, broadcasting on the inter-squad frequency, "Foes of the gods. I should strike the bastard down for his insults to the spirits."
He comms to the new mech, "These are not Blackhorn lands! The wilds of Sparr have no masters, of that you must be aware in your ignorance of the world."
Cascade's lips press into a thin line of irritation at the threat. Bad enough to threaten to kill us, but of course it's laced with human-chauvinism. She runs another check of her frame's weapon systems.
There is a burst of garbled noise over the comms that might have been a contemptuous laugh. "The world is changing, fool. The righteous sons and daughters of Sparr are rising up and *skrrk*laiming what's rightfully theirs. Your next skrk*rning will be kinetic."
The connection ends.
.
"Keep trying to get a location on that signal, Witch," Sonya says, re-opening the frequency the Blackhorn speaker used.
"Blackhorn representative, this is Garuda. We are not your enemies and we have no desire for conflict with you or your people. Unfortunately, we are currently lost in this blizzard. We can turn back if we are provided a navigable route."
A bluff—a weak one—but perhaps this Blackhorn was arrogant enough to believe that her team was nothing but a helpless group of off-worlders.
Sonya's olive branch goes unanswered--if the Blackhorn scout even heart the overture they do not acknowledge. When it becomes clear that no answers are forthcoming, there's nothing more to do than press on towards the last known location of Argent Team.
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Mallory takes the lead this time around, relying on her internal compass more than her eyes or their faulty sensors.
Cascade's sense of direction serves Cobalt Team well as the chassis march back into the storm--keeping the foothills on the team's right, she's able to guide the unit closer and closer to the distress signal's last known location.
You never see the Blackhorn scout, but you know they followed you for the first several hours from the passive scans that occasionally sweep your unit. Four hours after you set out, the scans cease and don't reoccur. Perhaps they've gone to report your presence--certainly you weren't returning to Ynn.
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Baywulf does his best to guide the party through the blizzard, relying on his sense of the lands of Sparr and guidance from Leita the Seeker.
Cobalt Team presses on, and to your relief the storm appears to be finally blowing itself out--eight days of blizzard is not joke! There's still enough wind and new flurries that visibility isn't ideal, and after several futile attempts to raise HQ on comms you surmise that Ynn must still be deep in the blizzard.
The distress beacon's signal is clearer now, luckily, and you have a hunch about where it will lead you: the ruins of Musterishelli, the stronghold of a large and powerful Sparri clan driven extinct by the invasion of SecCom when Sparr was forcibly integrated in Union shortly after 4,000u--a
literal millennium ago. As a demonstration of their might, SecCom heavily mined the halls and caverns of the clanhold, making it all but uninhabitable without enormous expenditures of resources--the ruined hold has lain quiet and empty since then.
Your musings and discussions are cut short by a chilling roar--a gutteral rumble that rises in pitch and volume...the territorial challenge of a glacial mauler, easily the most feared creature on Sparr. Even the semi-mythological Vast are second in the Sparri mythos, for the Vast have never matched the violence of the maulers; there are confirmed reports of caravans and small clanholds destroyed by hungry maulers, and the enormous beasts have tangled with armored chassis fireteams and held their own. Given the lack of inhabitation in this area, a mauler must have claimed it as its territory...and now you've stumbled in, a challenge it would never ignore.
"Hell," Mallory mutters, "now we've really stepped in it."
"This has been such a fun mission so far." Melodee says, "If we survive this it will make an interesting epic...assuming we survive it."
"We must fight! To take down a glacial mauler...gods, what a battle that would be."
A second voice comes across the comms, from the same channel as Baywulf,
He grumbles, "Hmph, Leita knows well what I do not, at times. Perhaps evasion is a better tactic than forthright assault."
"Steady, Cobalt," Sonya replies. "This isn't a fight we need, not if we can avoid it."
She pulls up an overview of their recent path towards Musterishelli. "Remember those quadropeds about a click back? Let's fall back and see if the mauler wants to be fed. If not, maybe you get your wish, Thunder Walker."
She turns The Way She Goes around and begins moving hastily away from the source of the roar. "Form up on me, Cobalt, and keep your eyes open."
"At least the meat won't be wasted." Melodee forms up on Garuda. "And maybe I won't have to patch more holes in our Frames."
"Ah, yes, snjórnaut, ah, snow ox to offworlders. Good eating."