Thread: The Rebellion (Pazzo x Xana)

Wheels down in thirty... Came the pilots announcement over the intercom... Caleb brushed his dark hair away from his face with his gloved left hand. His deep brown eyes scanned the LCD panel in his hands, as he listened to a reporter drone on about the Imperial Legions and their increasing aggression towards minor nobilities... Anything for a power grab... He grumbled low and deep in his chest... He could almost be considered rugged and handsome, if not for the dour, serious expression plastered across his face... His 6' 3 build was lean and muscular, and he moved with a confident, fluid grace... He grumbled, and slid his finger across the screen to the right, banishing the annoying broadcast... Conflict was good for business, but working for another noble house? Caleb tossed his hair and grunted, absently touching his left arm at the shoulder... His entire left arm was artificial, The Souvineer as he called it. Seven months ago his company had worked for House Heinrich, right along the southern border between their colony worlds and the Imperial fleet yards... Caleb and his partner Ivan were out doing what they did best, piloting their seventy ton behemoths of war around the Henrich Capital of Allheind... Without warning or provocation, the Imerial Forces dropped two battlegroups in secret. Outnumbered five to one, They moved into position to defend the city from the assailants, and they held their own, making the Imperials pay dearly in blood for every inch they advanced... Five to one, and they still made it out alive... Ivan's Mech had suffered critical damage from sustained autocannon fire, losing both of his legs as the depleted uranium slugs tore through his Ajax's Armor plating. Ivan had always preferred thick and heavy armor, with heavy weapons... Slow but steady, not surprising since Ivan is very much rotund... Caleb preferred a big engine and light armor, for better mobility, while keeping the heavy armament... But it wasn't enough... One of those heavy 2 autocannon rounds had torn through Caleb's cockpit, and went right through the ball and socket joint of his left shoulder, taking it completely off... If not for his mechs automatic drug dispensing system he would have passed out from the shock. In a rage, he repeatedly blast the enemy mech with his particle cannons, making short work of the bastard... Once the smoke had cleared, all 10 of the enemy units were destroyed, with Caleb's 70-ton Archnova barely hanging on, also missing its left arm, and odd coincidence... He was able to extract Ivan, stabilize him, and get him back to base, only to find out that House Henrich had decided to throw their lot in with the Imperials, and systematically tried to slaughter the 227th White Fangs to avoid a costly payday... Caleb and Ivan were able to survive for two days, until they were able to sneak in and commandeer a drop ship... They were just to stubborn to roll over and die... Almost half the company personnel deployed were lost... many of them his good friends... Including his faithful Archnova... That machine had always been there for him, and he was forced to leave it behind... But he also left a nasty little surprise for the imperials and or any house Heinrich forces that might try to salvage that machine, to the tune of seven hundred pounds of jury rigged thermite ammunition... Caleb promised himself he would not work for another private Noble house ever again... And yet here he was, ever being the good soldier, and doing what he was told, he could not say no to his captain... Jhon was like his adopted father... Caleb's family was killed by the imperials when he was very young, around the age of 6years... He remembered big robots with guns, their barrels belching fire at each other... slabs of armor exploding... And then he passed out in the arms of his dead mother, crying in rage... The next thing he remembered was that he was carried by a man wearing a Wolf-Head patch insignia on his pilot suit, with the numbers 227th emblazoned under it... Lt. John H Redfield... A mech pilot back then, and for whatever reason decided to take Caleb under his wing. He grew up as a mercenary brat, and spent most of his time in the hangars, helping the technicians by handing them wrenches of fetching the odd component... He became a very good technician, and as soon as he was old enough he applied for Mecha Pilot, and excelled on all of his exams... He had fought countless battles over the next 25 years for them, on foot and in a cockpit. Its what he was good at, arguably one of the best. This was all he ever knew... And this was also why House Drake had extended their hand and offered them a contract... Garrison duty, as well as extended bonuses for training the House military... A gentleman in his early sixties, wearing captain's bars on his collar sat next to him, with the nametag J. H. Redfield over his left breast pocket. The Captain looked over at Caleb as he touched his arm, and grimaced... Cpt Redfield leaned over and murmured to him... Relax kid, House Drake will not roll over on us... They are good honest people, and they are offering us a premium to baby sit them for a full year... Possibly longer if need be. He Grimaced when he saw Caleb grumble, and touch his arm through the clothing he tried to conceal it with... I don't get it, you designed that arm yourself, frankly the doc thinks you need to retire from this and go into engineering... Caleb arched an eyebrow, and glared at his Captain. Cpt Redfield chuckled and shook his head. Yeah yeah, I get it Caleb... Its in your blood, and you're not going to go anywhere. Both of them felt the shuttle landing struts hit the ground gently, and heard the hydraulic systems kick into action... The two men unbuckled their straps, and walked to the back loading ramp... A small group of 6 elite guards from the 227th ground battalion stood waiting for them in full power armor, holding automatic rifles... The Captain's personal Guard. Hyperion was likely a safe place, but it was always good to keep up appearances... A cool blast of air washed over Caleb's rugged face, and he had to smile... At least the weather was pleasant here on Hyperion, not an endless desert like Heinrich IV was.... The loading ramp extended fully, and Capt. Redfield began to walk down the gangplank, flanked by Caleb and the six special forces operatives... Calem was impressed, that mech hangar was huge, with many of the newer Model Ares, Tauri, and Cancer type chassis in abundance... Very few technicians though, not to mention everything was shiny and brand new... Hyperion had been a peaceful interior colony until its neighbor, Dhalforth III had come under the crosshairs of the Imperial assault... By treaty Hyperion would provide assistance... And that's where we come in. Boilster their defenses and help train their military... Caleb thought to himself... He had been given a Dossier of the Ruling noble that resided here, but he just cast it aside, not being interested... Lady Aura or something as such... Probably some fat lazy old spoiled useless rich girl that spent all of her time watching TV, and was shitting bricks now that the war was close... He followed the captain to meet with... A gorgeous young woman, impeccably dressed in a flattering military style uniform that hugged her curves conservatively, and with perfect posture... Shit... Caleb mumbled to himself... He had showered but didn't bother to shave, His gray uniform was pressed but not impeccable... Despite running one of the most sought after PMC's in the quadrant, John Redfield was a gentleman, and smiled at the young girl, bowing low. A few seconds later, Caleb did the same... Lady Aurelia, Thank you for requesting us, and we are honored to be in your presence... He stood back up and offered the girl a handshake, his hand perfectly perpendicular to the floor... Not palm down signifying dominance, not palm up signifying submissiveness, but equals, A sign of universal respect.... I am Captain Redfield of the 227th, but you may call me John...