15 March 2292, Earth Orbit, Damocles Space Station

In a private corner of the station, the vast vista of Earth, with its rolling blue and green skin and tattered cloak of clouds broken only by the scar of the elevator wreckage, stood in quiet resignation through a viewing screen, a shadow of its former beauty. Seated at an elaborately crafted wooden table beside the screen, two gentlemen, one slightly on in his years with his neatly trimmed silver strands and beard, while the other was the spitting image of a man in his prime, a cleanly shaven blonde, silently sipped and swirled bubbling glasses of sparkling champagne.

"Beautiful. That gaping wasteland...A testament to our achievements, isn't it? Filthy Terrans and all, eh?" The older broke the silence, a look of pride creased on his face. It steeped for a moment before the younger answered back.

"Are you sure everything is going according to plan? The men are starting to get nervous." The younger man was direct, stern. He'd barely touched his drink, watching the Earth's slow revolution with simmering anxiety. An intercom rang, answered by the elder of the pair.

"Yes?"

"Your shuttle is ready, sir."

"Alright, we'll be there shortly." As the feed cut out, he turned to his companion, a grin on his face as he held out his arms as if to say 'see?'. Returning to his seat, he reached over to give the other man a hearty pat on the back before sipping from his drink again.

"My boy, the pieces are set, and the game is about to continue. Remember..."

Their eyes locked on Earth yet again, the scar starting to fade behind a veil of white.

"The battle was won, but the war isn't over, oh-h-h-h no. The fall of the State of Terra was just the beginning. Tell the men Earth will soon be the one to be known as the Red Planet."

16 March 2292, 11:58 AM, Earth Surface, Equatorial Africa, Raven Coalition FOB Beach Landing

The midday sun was already sweltering hot at the coast, even as uniformed staff scurried around like ants between the brutal, pragmatic buildings that dotted the base, hauling weapons and supplies, checking inventories and preparing for the day ahead. Further inland, far from the sand, VTOL aircraft went through pre-flight checkups as they prepared for fueling. In the massive hangars, Mechanized Troopers, tanks and other armored vehicles were only just beginning to be hauled in, only just having arrived via boat. Some were plain, mass-produced and assigned to pilots. Others, however, stood out with their vibrant appearances, from paint schemes to silhouette and shape, decorated not with the crest of any nation or party, but those of mercenary companies and the personal effects of other guns-for-hire.

The Angels of Charon were among those contracted out, and had only just arrived on a freighter from across the sea following their rendezvous on Earth. As the mechs were settled into their maintenance stations, the technicians and mechanics swarmed.

"Hey, mercs! Get outta there so we can do our jobs!" One of the head technicians, whose jumpsuit seemed to stand out just a little bit more amongst the rest of their grease-covered co-workers, called out in frustration over the radios. Outside of the pilots' cockpits, they would see little more than wild, annoyed gesturing from the mechanics.

Once all the shutdown procedures were done, the leader of the Angels of Charon clambered down to the ground in his black, red-lined armored pilot suit, taking his helmet off, straightening out his short amber-gold locks. Marius was a merc, but he understood the delicacies of business and being presentable. He waved over his other employees to leave the hangar, away from the noise to the oven of the open sunlight. There was a shine in his verdant eyes as he addressed them, a professional smile on his face.

"Alright, today officially marks your first day out in the field as an Angel of Charon. Familiarize yourself with the Ravens' place, relax, but don't get too comfortable. We're not going to be here long. Keep your comms open while I go find out what the job for today is. You have ten minutes after I call to arrive at the main building for your briefing, over there." He pointed off into the distance, nearer to the aircraft landing pads, at one of the few buildings that seemed to have been here longer than the others judging from the weathered look about it. And with a curt nod at his comrades, he made his way, along with the rest of the grizzled mercenary captains, catching up with them and quickly falling into chatter with them.

Well, that was that. There was still some time before the mission began. More than enough time for the pilots to mingle amongst themselves and catch some rest after the long trip, but going back to the hangars seemed to be out of the question. The other mercenary company members broke off into their own little groups, either getting to know each other or catching up with old friends and/or rivals.

It would probably be a good idea to get out of the sun anyways.

Andy Murdoch

A skinny merc with dirty blond hair and ripped clothing stepped away from his bulky, dark green mech, wrapping some gauze around his left hand.

"You better not mess up this bad boy!" he shouted to the head technician. "I will notice!"

Andy then turned to the rest of the mercs after Captain Marius gave his instructions. "So, y'all ready to do this?" he asked with a devilish grin.

Tark Wikstrom

Upon descending from their machine, the dark armored pilot allows their fingers to linger on the smooth metal, upon which a scorched emblem once displayed golden twin sabers crossed atop a crimson spiral galaxy.

Now, only a blackened husk remained.

“I leave Haven in your care…pray, mind the emblem. I’ll not have it changed.”

Thus do they begin a steady, measured walk to the remaining mercenaries.

“It has been some time since work has brought me to this sector. The air is just as heavy ever.”

Their voice sounds like it’s heavily filtered by the speaker of their helmet, but not garbled. Their tone is neutral, but with a hint of nostalgia.

They soon stop and fall into a relaxed stance, arms crossed along their midsection, “Readiness is a question to be answered when our orders are given. Until such a point, I shall remain at attention.”

Of note, they’ve made no move to remove any part of their pilot suit or their helmet, despite the scorching heat.

Edited by Skyzerk on Oct 23rd 2023 at 4:36:42 AM

Alexander

Alexander was slightly unsteady on his feet as he dismounted and joined the others outside - the twice-strong gravity of earth was undisruptive in the comfortable seat of his machine, but on his own two feet, it was admittedly a little nauseating. His old boss had warned him, of course, and he'd trained in centrifugal 1g to make sure he would know what it felt like, but the real thing was never quite the same.

As Andy called to the other mercs, his enthusiasm brought a little half-cocked smile to Alexander's face. "Y-yeah, ready as I'll ever be!" he responded, trying to match at least some of the guy's enthusiasm. It was only a half-truth - he'd trained, and fought, but not with these people, in this place, there were many unknowns for him. He wasn't huge on unknowns, really.

Brandon Erickson

Brandon climbs down from his Kreuzritter, readjusting his cap as he does so. As he steps onto the ground, he gives a nod to the mechanics getting ready to service the Mech that belonged to the Terran Merc.

As he steps up to the others, he overhears Tark's comment about the air being heavy. Sure, Brandon may be used to it, but he does agree that it's annoying. Which makes him wonder, with that heavy get-up of theirs...

"Eh, you get used to it. Africa does get rather warm this time of year. Then again, it also gets pretty cold at night. One extreme to the other..."

"Anyways. I'm about as ready as any of you guys."

Vittorio

A blonde-haired merc steps out of his mech, shaking off the ever-unnatural feeling of being on a planet with gravity half that of your own as he walks.

"Hey, watch the chassis, okay?" he calls to the maintenence team, pointing a finger gun in their direction before turning around to meet the other mercs.

After removing his helmet and taking a deep breath of Earthen air, Vittorio responds to Andy's question with "Me? I was born ready."

Edited by TheGoldLeaf on Oct 24th 2023 at 10:41:54 AM

Scarlet

In the back of the hanger, the red demon stood still. Compared to the other mechs, they were little more than a corpse. Lean and gaunt, worn and withered, almost a hollow shell. How much of it's crimson coating was made of paint or the fuel from its victims engines was hard to say. It was difficult to make the distinction. It was cheaper than a full paint job, but their owner couldn't care less.

After a long wait, the cockpit opened. They didn't take the stairs. They dropped down, scarlet hair floating in the breeze, landing with a thud. They rose back up, staring dully ahead, every bit as cold and stiff as their machines.

They didn't listen to the others. They reached for their toolkit, pulling out a small electric rod, rusted and bent. They weren't interested in conversation. Every second she spent making small talk was a second wasted. If they didn't understand that, that was their fault. She sat down, fingers twitching in irritation, moving the rod over her wrist with cold efficiency.

Andy Murdoch

"Yeah! That's what I'm talkin' about!" Andy exclaimed with a laugh as the others answered his question, giving his arms a stretch. Then he glanced at the silent Scarlet. "Well, most of you anyway. Hey! You gonna say something or what?!"

Karina

"Okay, okay, I'm moving already!" A female voice called back at the mechanics as they were prompted to disembark so the mechanics could get on with their jobs, a sentiment Karina could sympathize with but that didn't make the procedures go any faster.

With their new boss was off to a meeting with their employer or whatever it was they did when it came to setting up missions, Karina took the opportunity to just listen to her new teammate's musings for a few moments before shrugging "Well, ready or not there's no point standing here in the heat like a statue. Who's up for taking a look around in the meantime?"
A teasing glance pointed the statue comment toward the more stoic members of the group before the girl turned to look out at the base for a few moments.