Armored Core 4A fanfic Stab.
Posted: 2009-05-30 08:39pm
I post this in hope of finding idea's and feedback from people who have more Armored Core 4A info them myself. I appologise of any errors as they most likely arise from this being copied from the Microsoft Word page I have been working off of.
[b]A lynx's tale.[/b]
At the start of this mission, I had expected this to be a pain in the ass, but this was how TORUS wanted to play it then fine. I would baby-sit these ‘trainees’ for as long as it took for them to get themselves killed. Then I would be up one large paycheque and lose some dead weight, sounds harsh but that was how it was, they joined up and were jinxed enough to have middling AMS aptitude. Enough to avoid struggling through the slurry at the bottom of the tank and were inducted straight into Collard’s ranks as new Lynx. It was only a twist of fate that saved these two from having to learn everything from scratch, and that was a partnership-sponsorship program that was being tested out by select companies-only the ones who needed or wanted large groups of semi-skilled pilots who would quite happily die for money. And according to one solitary bean counter in the depths of Collard it was slightly quicker if you stick rookies with an experianced pilot to leech what they could off of them before moving on. But enough of this, memoirs come second so I will wrap this up with a small note, my name is M.P and I am a Lynx.
Flashback locked on!
Several facts alerted me to the fact today would be uniquely crappy one, the first being I stubbed my toe on a piece of…I don’t even know what I have scattered around here anymore. One of the side effects of the new AMS system updates I had installed recently, it made the system better at planning long term battle strategies for the likes of ammo conservation, but with the downer of “slight short term memory loss” as the warning had said in tiny script. Fat lotta good that did me now, since I can’t remember what I did last night, only without the inevitable hangover that would normally make getting up so fun. Second was that after having dragged myself out of range of anything that would try and sabotage me, the next order of business was to find some clothes and something to eat. Not as easy as it would appear considering I only came back here to sleep and keep my clothes in. And usually spent my time down in the main Rec rooms eating whatever was cheapest at the time and napping in whatever chairs are available at the time, a lot harder then it appeared. Considering everybody had his or her own preferences as to how ‘their’ own chair was arranged. Otsdarva was a strange one, ‘his’ seat always ended up in a corner that was backed by two large cases filled with old style books, you know, the ones with paper and card covering it. Don’t know why he doesn’t move on like the rest of us and use his PDA to read what ever he wants off the computer files, but being a genius like he is you are allowed some eccentricities. Another of the eccentrics that have survived long enough to ‘earn’ a chair is the wonderful Wynne D Fanchon, also known as “Mrs-Boot-to-Face”. All because I was just taking a quiet dose when the next thing I feel is the standard issue Lynx boot being firmly pressed into my face, then being rudely rolled out of my new bed and onto the floor and seeing stars. After the twinkling had stopped I began to give vent to my suddenly damaged ego with the good old staring line “What the hell was that for. Bitch!” only to discover I was being completely ignored by my erstwhile attacker “Hey! I am talking to you!”
“That is very interesting, but get away from me.”
Its at times like this that I really curse my short term memory loss, otherwise I would have remembered just how hard she kicked and would have applied this to my currant situation, but, not in this case.
“If that’s how you are going to be then I will have to move you!”
Easier said then done as in the next five minutes I discovered one thing, gravity only applies when it wants to, otherwise I wouldn’t have been sent over five feet by someone who was actually shorter then me. It was only after this whole incident that I discovered that I had actually been picking a fight with a top ranked Lynx when I had only been doing this for a few months at best, or so I could remember. It was after this that I found out that I had attempted to manhandle was GA’s disaster, the famous “Brass Maiden” who was respected the world over for her abilities on the field of battle, and her unbending devotion to those around her. After I had been notified as to my (no, not my mistake, her mistake) problem by a distinctly older gentleman who went by the callsign Roadie as to the problem. I forgot any problem and found a partner to spend a few friendly hours talking to as to what it was like being a veteran of the first wars to have engulfed the corporations. During this time I discovered a few new things, Lynx pilots like myself had it very easy. Compared to what the original Normal pilots had to deal with, like no direct mental link with your machine to speed up your machine and no great deal of corporate sponsorship to help you acquire your first set of training wheels. Another thing Roadie and me seemed to share was a love for a slice of heaven in a bowl called Ramen.
Over all the years that me and Roadie would know each other after we had retired to spend our time instructing newcomers to the business of killing for profit, many things have happened because of our shared love of Ramen. But this day was one of the first that something negative came from our mutual friendship, or more accurately, news of something negative, today was the first trial of the Partnership system and only some of the most senior Lynx were made aware of the results beforehand. Luckily for me Roadie was not only one of the top Ten, but gets a little loose lipped when he doses on account of his old age. It was then, just after Lilium Wolcott had decided that it was time fore the ‘princess’ to retire for the night, and Gerald Gendlin had finished trying to get over the fact that he could not finish this months riddle-board. Then I heard Roadie trying to communicate from the depths of a Ramen induced haze. “Hehe, if only he knew what was coming…” now, to anyone this would be seen as ominous, but with all the time I had spent with the old coot, it only meant trouble.
After I had dosed off again and was awoken by the dinging of my PDA, it seemed that there was a mission for good little me, ‘bout time too. It had been too long since I had been able to take my NEXT, Tech Arms out for a spin, but that was reminiscing for another time. Now I could see what goodies the companies had decided to throw me…oh, shit, anything but this, ‘Partnerships with newbies’ was considered more of a punishment then a reward for something done in a past life. This had to be a mistake, sure, I was good at what I did, being ranked number 30 in the Collard rankings had really helped my credibility when some of the other pilots had one too many and decided to see if I really was that good. Helps to be in good shape when you pilot machines that can go up to a couple dozen gee’s when you pull a QB turn within its own length (my sympathies go out to tank-based Pilots, you poor bastards). As it turned out, this is what I had heard from Roadie muttering in his sleep, if I was a lesser man I would have skipped out on going to meet these newbies. But I was a little strapped for cash at the moment and needed every scrap of cash I could lay my hands on. That was the only reason I found myself sitting in a dull grey room in the administration area of the Collared main…place. I don’t even remember a time when I was not here (I should probably have a doctor take a look at my memory to see if it’s getting any worse). After a few minutes of sitting all on my own I heard the sound of feet coming down the corridor. After a few seconds I could hear a pair of voices echoing down the corridor. “I don’t’ see why we have to come all the way down here” said the first, Hmm sounded a bit annoyed, good.
“True, but you also must remember that were are pretty new around here and need all the help we can get”. This one sounded more reasonable but a bit more naïve.
“Pfft, screw that, you know I could pilot circles around half the idiots around here and you know it”
“Bet you wouldn’t say that to their faces”
“Alright you get Otsdarva down here and I will” cocksure this one, took me a few days just to be able to look him in the eye.
“Would you pipe down a little, that heavy tank type can barely move under all those grenade cannon you have on it”
“Says the guy with almost no armour and barely enough weapons to count with one hand". This was getting ridiculous, it sounded like these two wouldn’t even make it to see me before they killed each other. I could do the responsible thing and get off my ass and stop them, or listen as they started to tear each other to pieces, and by the sound of it they had both stopped to continue this little lovers quarrel.yipee.
“Hey, if weren’t for me you wouldn’t even be here so a bit more gratitude would be appreciated!”
“Bite me, you should be thanking me for dragging you out of that pit you had dug for yourself, now come on, we are all ready late as is”. About time these two put that behind them and decided to come visit poor little me. It was only a matter of minutes before I heard a light tapping at the door to which I answered with a polite little “enter”. Sounds strange, but when you are in the business of killing for money, it pays to be nice to the fresh meat so as to not scare it too easily, and thus lose any protective powers they would have given you. Thus, manners-the better to lure them in-“if you could take a seat and I will start this interview”. It was here things started to get a little noisy. ”What! We are already Lynx! Why the hell is this an interview, when you have no choice but to accept us!” aha, so this was the source of the loudmouthed bragging I had heard, time to bring him down a notch. “That was only a formal acceptance so that you could be trained up to standard required to avoid dying on your first solo assignment, the pair of yours fates now hang solely in my hands.” This made them both start, up to now they had both assumed their membership was a done deal and that nothing could be done to alter it. Now someone was stepping to change all of that, the only challenge was how to handle the inevitable torrent of emotions that would begin soon. “Well, it seems we have got off to a bad start, so lets try again shall we? If you would give me your names and we will move on from there”. It is at times like this that a person true traits start to shine through, and the first was that the loudmouth was not as confident as he would have liked to appear. “But you can’t do that!” he said with a small note of panic in his rolling voice, good, he was realising that this was not a game, I could end his future if I wanted, but I am not quite that vindictive, at least outside the cockpit. “Your names please. So we can move on” this jolted both out of their stupor and started the ball rolling.
[b]A lynx's tale.[/b]
At the start of this mission, I had expected this to be a pain in the ass, but this was how TORUS wanted to play it then fine. I would baby-sit these ‘trainees’ for as long as it took for them to get themselves killed. Then I would be up one large paycheque and lose some dead weight, sounds harsh but that was how it was, they joined up and were jinxed enough to have middling AMS aptitude. Enough to avoid struggling through the slurry at the bottom of the tank and were inducted straight into Collard’s ranks as new Lynx. It was only a twist of fate that saved these two from having to learn everything from scratch, and that was a partnership-sponsorship program that was being tested out by select companies-only the ones who needed or wanted large groups of semi-skilled pilots who would quite happily die for money. And according to one solitary bean counter in the depths of Collard it was slightly quicker if you stick rookies with an experianced pilot to leech what they could off of them before moving on. But enough of this, memoirs come second so I will wrap this up with a small note, my name is M.P and I am a Lynx.
Flashback locked on!
Several facts alerted me to the fact today would be uniquely crappy one, the first being I stubbed my toe on a piece of…I don’t even know what I have scattered around here anymore. One of the side effects of the new AMS system updates I had installed recently, it made the system better at planning long term battle strategies for the likes of ammo conservation, but with the downer of “slight short term memory loss” as the warning had said in tiny script. Fat lotta good that did me now, since I can’t remember what I did last night, only without the inevitable hangover that would normally make getting up so fun. Second was that after having dragged myself out of range of anything that would try and sabotage me, the next order of business was to find some clothes and something to eat. Not as easy as it would appear considering I only came back here to sleep and keep my clothes in. And usually spent my time down in the main Rec rooms eating whatever was cheapest at the time and napping in whatever chairs are available at the time, a lot harder then it appeared. Considering everybody had his or her own preferences as to how ‘their’ own chair was arranged. Otsdarva was a strange one, ‘his’ seat always ended up in a corner that was backed by two large cases filled with old style books, you know, the ones with paper and card covering it. Don’t know why he doesn’t move on like the rest of us and use his PDA to read what ever he wants off the computer files, but being a genius like he is you are allowed some eccentricities. Another of the eccentrics that have survived long enough to ‘earn’ a chair is the wonderful Wynne D Fanchon, also known as “Mrs-Boot-to-Face”. All because I was just taking a quiet dose when the next thing I feel is the standard issue Lynx boot being firmly pressed into my face, then being rudely rolled out of my new bed and onto the floor and seeing stars. After the twinkling had stopped I began to give vent to my suddenly damaged ego with the good old staring line “What the hell was that for. Bitch!” only to discover I was being completely ignored by my erstwhile attacker “Hey! I am talking to you!”
“That is very interesting, but get away from me.”
Its at times like this that I really curse my short term memory loss, otherwise I would have remembered just how hard she kicked and would have applied this to my currant situation, but, not in this case.
“If that’s how you are going to be then I will have to move you!”
Easier said then done as in the next five minutes I discovered one thing, gravity only applies when it wants to, otherwise I wouldn’t have been sent over five feet by someone who was actually shorter then me. It was only after this whole incident that I discovered that I had actually been picking a fight with a top ranked Lynx when I had only been doing this for a few months at best, or so I could remember. It was after this that I found out that I had attempted to manhandle was GA’s disaster, the famous “Brass Maiden” who was respected the world over for her abilities on the field of battle, and her unbending devotion to those around her. After I had been notified as to my (no, not my mistake, her mistake) problem by a distinctly older gentleman who went by the callsign Roadie as to the problem. I forgot any problem and found a partner to spend a few friendly hours talking to as to what it was like being a veteran of the first wars to have engulfed the corporations. During this time I discovered a few new things, Lynx pilots like myself had it very easy. Compared to what the original Normal pilots had to deal with, like no direct mental link with your machine to speed up your machine and no great deal of corporate sponsorship to help you acquire your first set of training wheels. Another thing Roadie and me seemed to share was a love for a slice of heaven in a bowl called Ramen.
Over all the years that me and Roadie would know each other after we had retired to spend our time instructing newcomers to the business of killing for profit, many things have happened because of our shared love of Ramen. But this day was one of the first that something negative came from our mutual friendship, or more accurately, news of something negative, today was the first trial of the Partnership system and only some of the most senior Lynx were made aware of the results beforehand. Luckily for me Roadie was not only one of the top Ten, but gets a little loose lipped when he doses on account of his old age. It was then, just after Lilium Wolcott had decided that it was time fore the ‘princess’ to retire for the night, and Gerald Gendlin had finished trying to get over the fact that he could not finish this months riddle-board. Then I heard Roadie trying to communicate from the depths of a Ramen induced haze. “Hehe, if only he knew what was coming…” now, to anyone this would be seen as ominous, but with all the time I had spent with the old coot, it only meant trouble.
After I had dosed off again and was awoken by the dinging of my PDA, it seemed that there was a mission for good little me, ‘bout time too. It had been too long since I had been able to take my NEXT, Tech Arms out for a spin, but that was reminiscing for another time. Now I could see what goodies the companies had decided to throw me…oh, shit, anything but this, ‘Partnerships with newbies’ was considered more of a punishment then a reward for something done in a past life. This had to be a mistake, sure, I was good at what I did, being ranked number 30 in the Collard rankings had really helped my credibility when some of the other pilots had one too many and decided to see if I really was that good. Helps to be in good shape when you pilot machines that can go up to a couple dozen gee’s when you pull a QB turn within its own length (my sympathies go out to tank-based Pilots, you poor bastards). As it turned out, this is what I had heard from Roadie muttering in his sleep, if I was a lesser man I would have skipped out on going to meet these newbies. But I was a little strapped for cash at the moment and needed every scrap of cash I could lay my hands on. That was the only reason I found myself sitting in a dull grey room in the administration area of the Collared main…place. I don’t even remember a time when I was not here (I should probably have a doctor take a look at my memory to see if it’s getting any worse). After a few minutes of sitting all on my own I heard the sound of feet coming down the corridor. After a few seconds I could hear a pair of voices echoing down the corridor. “I don’t’ see why we have to come all the way down here” said the first, Hmm sounded a bit annoyed, good.
“True, but you also must remember that were are pretty new around here and need all the help we can get”. This one sounded more reasonable but a bit more naïve.
“Pfft, screw that, you know I could pilot circles around half the idiots around here and you know it”
“Bet you wouldn’t say that to their faces”
“Alright you get Otsdarva down here and I will” cocksure this one, took me a few days just to be able to look him in the eye.
“Would you pipe down a little, that heavy tank type can barely move under all those grenade cannon you have on it”
“Says the guy with almost no armour and barely enough weapons to count with one hand". This was getting ridiculous, it sounded like these two wouldn’t even make it to see me before they killed each other. I could do the responsible thing and get off my ass and stop them, or listen as they started to tear each other to pieces, and by the sound of it they had both stopped to continue this little lovers quarrel.yipee.
“Hey, if weren’t for me you wouldn’t even be here so a bit more gratitude would be appreciated!”
“Bite me, you should be thanking me for dragging you out of that pit you had dug for yourself, now come on, we are all ready late as is”. About time these two put that behind them and decided to come visit poor little me. It was only a matter of minutes before I heard a light tapping at the door to which I answered with a polite little “enter”. Sounds strange, but when you are in the business of killing for money, it pays to be nice to the fresh meat so as to not scare it too easily, and thus lose any protective powers they would have given you. Thus, manners-the better to lure them in-“if you could take a seat and I will start this interview”. It was here things started to get a little noisy. ”What! We are already Lynx! Why the hell is this an interview, when you have no choice but to accept us!” aha, so this was the source of the loudmouthed bragging I had heard, time to bring him down a notch. “That was only a formal acceptance so that you could be trained up to standard required to avoid dying on your first solo assignment, the pair of yours fates now hang solely in my hands.” This made them both start, up to now they had both assumed their membership was a done deal and that nothing could be done to alter it. Now someone was stepping to change all of that, the only challenge was how to handle the inevitable torrent of emotions that would begin soon. “Well, it seems we have got off to a bad start, so lets try again shall we? If you would give me your names and we will move on from there”. It is at times like this that a person true traits start to shine through, and the first was that the loudmouth was not as confident as he would have liked to appear. “But you can’t do that!” he said with a small note of panic in his rolling voice, good, he was realising that this was not a game, I could end his future if I wanted, but I am not quite that vindictive, at least outside the cockpit. “Your names please. So we can move on” this jolted both out of their stupor and started the ball rolling.