Omega Complex

[Otra]

[History Lesson -- 2152 AD]

There are three types of main production models of mobile battle suits (MB suits). The first are squat and low to the ground, heavily armored and difficult to manuveer. These "gauche" suits are designed for defensive posts and as shields. The second type have minimal full body armor and weapons, but compensate with manuveerability. A low grade AI system and a specially designed polymer layer allow it to blend in with its surroundings. These "stinger" suits are best used for sniper work and messenger missions. The third, and final, type seems to be a median between the "gauche" and the "stinger." Its armor is light and can withstand a barrage of hits as long as they aren't all direct. It comes equipped with an arm cannon, light sabers, and rapid fire machine gun. The "dual" models are used to their fullest potential during in close range combat situations.

While most countries either produce or purchase these production type models, several countries are in the running to make custom models. The United States, Japan, and Germany are all competting to produce these next wave of custom models. The kingdom of Antol, however, already has four custom models on the battle field. Custom suits, as their name would imply, are open to a range of possibilities. Their AI systems are generally made to the specifications of one pilot and can be build to handle any number of battle situations.

With this said and four MB suits currently in use by the Antol army, it's only a wonder that they weren't attacked much sooner. But, the turmoil has come from within the kingdom and the countries of the world are all lining up to help decide a winner. Just to name a few, the United States, United Kingdom, Japan, and Israel have all united on the side of the monarchy of Antol. Russia, North Korea, and Pakistan are all in support of the rebels. Obviously not a definitive list, it gives a clear understanding of what has happened. A small civil war has slowly grown to encompass much of the globe.

[Story]

Ayame Lisette Froud-Miyagi derive her heritage from two very different countries, but the German-Japanese girl has lived all her life in Antol. Her mother, a German physicist, spent a great deal of her life's work helping to develop functional custom MB suits for the kingdom. Her father was one of the first to pilot a beta design that would later be the first gauche suit. All her life, all she's wanted to be was a pilot like her father and, the moment she turned 18, she signed her life over to the Army. At 25, she's on her way to gaining a golden reputation if only her pride and reckless behavior don't get her killed first.

As the war enters its fifth year, the kingdom finds itself without its MB captain. Several stand-ins are called from different countries, but its obvious that a true replacement needs to be made. When Aya Miyagi leads her forces at Terrasun to victory, she's placed on the short list. Six months later, with the worlds fifth custom suit at hand, she makes history as the youngest captain of the Army's MB division. Her squad is less than thrilled. The rebels see it as a prime opportunity.

[The Players]

We're obviously going to need people to play the other four custom MB pilots. You can also command the gauche, stinger, and dual models, but remember to stay true to type. Gauche pilots will not be zipping all over the place and stingers can't handle a heavy barage of fire. Members of Aya's new squad will include custom and production model pilots alike. There is also a need for a tech support team, mechanics, political figures, and, of course, pilots from other countries. There will be fight scenes, so, don't godmod. Everyone has strengths and weaknesses, even pilots with custom suits.

As far as this being heavy plot wise for an SRP, sorry. But, I think that only makes the relationship dynamic more fun. It's a war situation, heavy stress and close quarters, chemistry is bound to set off sparks. Have fun with it.

[Profile]

Name: Ayame (Aya) Lisette Froud-Miyagi
Kingdom/Country: Antol
Alliance: The Monarchy
Age: 25
Gender: Female
Orientation: Bisexual
Role: Captain of the MB division of Antol's army.
Personality: Aya is neither a hot shot maverick nor does she play very nicely with others. A very dominate personality, she likes things done her way and rarely takes no for an answer. She expect loyality from her squad and becomes very frustated when her authority is undermined. On an emotional level, she's actually very fragile. Aya misses her deceased father dearly and worries her mother's work puts her in danger. During battle she has a way of blocking out her personal life that makes her unholy dangerous to her opponents. She will put herself in harms way if she sees it as the best course of action. Would die for her team even though she considers them mostly ungrateful bastards.
Appearance: (After all this typing, I got lazy) http://img1.yoxio.com/img/182923.png
-- Hair Color: White Blonde
-- Eye Color: Green Grey
Pilot Suit: http://img1.yoxio.com/img/182927.png
Suit Type: Custom
Suit Name: Rynne (rye-nuh)
Suit Specs: Standing at a medium height (between the stinger and dual models), the Rynne is lithe and flexible. The jointed armor allows for optium movement while not giving up much in protection; the black color and grey trim allow it to blend in the shadows while giving it a striking presence on the battlefield. The AI system works almost flawlessly with the pilots brain with an almost unnoticible delay time. Armed with a reflector shield, twin laser cannons, machine gun, and adjustable hand held laser weapon, it's one of the more heavily armed units. Although it is weak to unnormally high speeds and extreme temperatures, it's most fatal weakness is its pilot.

---

Aya prowled the halls of the Terra Une military base, a small smile playing on her lips. It felt good to be home. Stretching her arms over her hand, wondering if she should have changed into her casual uniform for the meeting, she decided that the black slacks and untucked white button up would do fine. Just an introductory meeting afterall. If she had her way, the meeting would have been during training exercises that morning, but, her commanding officers had failed to see it her way. In the end, she'd been forced to shut up and watch. The squad had behaved horribly.

So, after a quick shower and some nosing around to see if she could get any of the techs on her side before the Rynne was unveiled, Aya found herself walking down the bright cooridors to Room 001, or the Omega Room. Central command liked to hold meetings there; she would have rather chewed the squad out earlier than later. There was no way someone like herself was going to put up with that kind of performance. Especially since they were supposed to be the best of the best.

Custom units should not be behaving like gauche fighters. Unaccepatable.

The last three years had been somewhat chaotic. Explosive battles in Africa and India had pulled her away from the home front and she'd returned a different solider. Not just in rank and MB unit, but personality-wise as well. Much more apt to bark out orders than make friends, everyone seemed to want to put there two cents in. Well, as far as she was concerned, it was far easier that way. Plenty of people wanted to sleep with her, that wasn't an issue. What was the use in having someone around all the time?

Plenty, was the thought, but she pushed it out of the way at the same time she strode though the doors of the Omega Room. Today could either be full of promise or extremely long and Aya was sure, with her luck, it would be the later.

 

[Amy (Roleplay)]

Name: Aku Shakatshu
Kingdom/Country: Munty
Alliance: The Monarchy
Age: 22
Gender: Female
Orientation: Bisexual
Role: Captain of the FP Team.
Personality:
Aku is captain of the FP team a team of 3 Pilots who provide air support for the MB team.
She is loyal to her country and when in battle takes it very seriously but out of battle she is cheerful and quite casual.
Appearance:
Hair Color: White
Hair Length: Long, down to shoulders.
Eye Color: Brown
Pilot Suit:
A Grey Tight Pilot Suit with a White branded Helmet.
Aircraft:

http://www.dfrc.nasa.gov/Gallery/Photo/Fleet/Medium/EC95-42939-8.jpg​

---

Aku was sitting down in the military helicopter which was transferring her to the Terra Une Base where her Aircraft was already waiting for her, it had been transferred the day she had been told she would be transferring the next day, the other members of her team would be along soon, they weren't coming over yet because of a incident in Africa.

She looked down out of the windows as the Helicopter lowered itself onto the landing pad, she hopped off and was greeted by a man which she guessed was the head of the base, they greeted and she shook his hand as he said

"Welcome, Aku, I have heard great things about your flying i'm sure our MB team will be pleased with your presence, the captain has been presurring me for air support for ages."

She nodded and said

"Yes sir it is a pleasure to be providing Air support for the MB team"

The man turned and she followed him, not talking they hopped into a small green truck and sped off to the building to the right of them when they reached there they hopped out and walked down a corridor, approaching a door with "Omega Room" written over it, The commander opened the door and she entered...

 

[Starsailor2804]

[Profile]

Name: Steven Jacobson
Kingdom/Country: Antol
Alliance: The Monarchy
Age: 27
Gender: Male
Orientation: Heterosexual
Role: Squad Member of the MB division of Antol's army.
Personality: Steven was born and raised in America, but moved to Antol following a disagreement between his own desires and that of his country. However, despite all that he was still quite patriotic to his home country and at times it raises concern among the Antol army staff. But, his skills are what keeps him on the team. He is strong willed, and quite determined to fight the forces that stand against his home country, Antol, a kingdom he has come to love, and he has a strong sense of comraderie and would put his life in danger to save those he loves and those who fight by his side. He can be hard-headed at times, but Aya seems to have a ability to get through to him better than anyone else.
Appearance: At roughly six feet tall, 175lbs, he is also quite physically fit and although being in the MB division he can hold his own on the battlefield fist to fist. He is very proficient in many different forms of martial arts as well and thus quite strong, fit, and everything a military man of his age should be. What he also succeeds in is in his good looks. With short, military style dark brown hair, dark blue eyes, and a handsome face he is often the targetted of many young and older women.
-- Hair Color: Dark Brown
-- Eye Color: Dark Blue
Pilot Suit: http://www.animevisions.net/Pictures/gundams/09.jpg
Suit Type: Custom
Suit Name: Nighthawk
Suit Specs: Standing at a medium height (between the stinger and dual models), the Nighthawk is quick, agile, and has the ability to take a punch as well as deal a much more brutal one. Unlike the custom counterparts the Nighthawk has the ability to alter its colors in order to camoflague itself with its surroundings. The AI system, at Steve's request, works almost flawlessly with the pilots brain with an almost unnoticible delay time, but is able to go into strict manual mode in which the controls can be used solely by his own hands. Armed with a laser rifle that has a sniper addition when needed, a small reflector shield, a twin laser sword, and booster rockets it lacks in an arsenal of weapons to allow for more speed and stealth.

[Story]

The son, of a son, of a son of a military man Steve has the blood of a warrior deep inside of him. He has the heart of a warrior, a mind of a warrior, and better yet the soul of one. Raised in a small town in the United States it was inevitable for him to join the military when he came of age. After serving in the U.S. Mobile Unit for six years in the most hostile regions of the planet he had been asked to eliminate a target deep within Russia. However, when he found out that that meant killing civilians as well he couldn't, was disciplined for his incompetance, and sent to Antol to serve in their services. It is no secret of the close relationship that Antol and the United States have, but any alliances are never openly confirmed.

[Introduction post]

Steve wanted to be here as much as he wanted to be anywhere but here. Exactly, that made no sense whatsoever, but it really wasn't suppose to. He was just as confused as he was happy to be starting over. He had just be assigned a new suit, one that was suppose to be to his liking in such significant ways, and for that he was only more excited to see just what they meant. He had been a pilot all of his life, all of his life that mattered, and not only was he an exceptional one, but it was what he lived for.

Walking down the corridors after he had thrown his bag in his new room and changed into his military uniform, Steve could only wonder how this was going to go. He couldn't wait to be introduced to his new suit, and he couldn't wait to see these new people he would be serving with. Surely few knew where he came from or his story, only those in command, and so he expected many questions from them.

Stepping into the room they were set to meet at he made sure his attire was appropriate before taking his place among the others for whoever was going to speak to them, surely the new CO.

 

[Otra]

Aya had somehow managed to slip into the cool, dimly lit room before the others started filtering in. She had been sent a file containing photos and information about the members of her new squad and she had managed to glance over it on the flight from Egypt. The young woman was seated at the front of the room, thankfully they had a place with her name, and her light eyes were glazed over in boredom.

Not only was she being introduced as the new captain of the MB unit, but, the new fighter pilot team was being introduced as well. An FP unit, it actually struck her as a good idea. Finally they'd have a little air support. They'd needed that in India; they'd needed that in Terrasun. Sighing, she flipped through the thin paper program, clicking off the names that she recognized. It was then that a woman walk through the doors and the motion activated lights came on. Aya cursed softly and rolled her eyes.

Aku Shakatshu. Captain of the new FP squad. Cute enough, Aya figured, but their hair color was too similar. She touched the headband she'd slipped in at the last moment and wondered if it had been the right touch. Before she could muse any further on the fighter pilot who would almost be on par with her, a young man walked through the doors. It was offical, the lights would be staying on.

It took a moment, but, Aya recognized his face eventually. Steven Jacobson. What a misplaced American, but, she really wasn't one to talk. He was going to be in her squad and his stats were promising. Still, if he had anything to do with the poor showing that morning, she was still going to have his head. Shifting in her seat, Aya waited for Ms. Shakatshu to take a seat next to her and Jacobson to take a seat in what would be the audience. Hopefully the Omega Room would fill up and the commanding officer would enter. The sooner, the better.

 

[Suave Intent]

Name: Jonathan Alexander
Kingdom/Country: Antol
Alliance: The Monarchy
Age: 27
Gender: Male
Orientation: Heterosexual
Role: Lieutenant of the MB division of Antol's army.
Personality: Cocky, arrogant, stuck up, conceited...but with the skills to back it up, Jonathan is the squad's quittesential hot-shot. The first one to engage in battle (even when it isn't necessary), he has been reprimanded and demoted countless times...but his skill with an MB suit is undenialbe, and that was why he was handed one of the four custom models that the Kingdom of Antol had produced.
Appearance: 6'1 and just over 180 lbs, Jonathan cuts quite the striking figure that only adds to his already expansive ego. Years spent in the military have sculpted his body, but the most appealing attributes that he has are his eyes. A sharp grey, they seem to be able to penetrate into anyone he looks at...an alertness that has had more than one person speculating on why he was so good in a suit.
-- Hair Color: Dark Brown
-- Eye Color: Grey
Pilot Suit: All black with no distinct insignias.
Suit Type: Custom
Suit Name: Tiamat
Suit Specs: Like all the custom models that the Kingdom has produced, this model is sleek and dangerously fast...Unlike the other models that are actually made for long-range combat as well as infiltration, the Tiamat was produced strictly for suit-to-suit combat, and as such, is equipped for the part. Dual lightsabers rest at the hips of his machine while each hand is equipped with a close-combat laser beam meant to incenerate anything he gets his "grip" on. A particle shield is also fixated to his right arm (something that he had the developers of the machine alter after he was assigned to it, as it had originally been fixated to the left) so that he can deflect any shots that he cannot avoid with his speed and so that the machine can get close enough for combat.

...

Sweat was pouring profusely across his brow as his hands trembled with the weight of his machine...he had known that the machine he was assigned was deadly, but even his cocky and brazen nature would have never prepared him for the adrenaline rush that it had given him. Pushing a few buttons nimbly with his left hand, the cockpit was soon opened and the light of day came pouring into the cramp space he had occupied just a few moments ago. In front of him lay the remnants of several suits...all of which were now completely destroyed by the Tiamat just a few moments ago. Breathing in deep...a slight smile crept its away across his lips at the exploits he had just done.

"I think I can get used to this..."

And just a split second after that statement was made, the intercom in his machine went off and a rather strict voice was soon heard. "Damnit Jonathan, get your cocky ass back to base...you're late!"

Ahhh yes, the meeting! Jonathan had been wondering what tight-ass commander had been given command of the most elite squad that his Kingdom had produced, and he couldn't wait to meet up with him. Hell, if things went well, he'd even take him out to the bar to pick up the local girls (Boy is he in for a surprise!)

 

[Tvayumat]

Name: Carl "Shade" Allen
Kingdom/Country: United States of America
Alliance: United States Government
Age: 32
Gender: Male
Hair: Dirty Blonde
Eyes: Hazel
Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual
Role: Lieutenant in the US MB Suit division sent to lend aid to the Antol military
Personality: In peacetime he was a family man, a loving caring husband and father of two, his MB suit piloting skills were a result of the intense passion he put into every moment behind the controls. After the rebels attacked and destroyed his home in the U.S., all that changed. His skills advanced to a new level, not as a result of blinding passion, but a complete and total emotional detachment he put into his killing. Carl became known as "Shade", people told him it was because of his maneuvering abilities in his suit, but he knew the real reason, because he simply was not there. When people see him fight, they see an emotionless murderous machine, calmly going about his bloody task. After five years of constant battle, his cold mask has still yet to waver. In battle he is a deadly wraith, accurate and maneuverable, he cares little for the lives of his teammates except as far as they affect him, all of his actions are calculated and logical. While his anti-social behavior turned many pilots off to him, his government noted his kill ratios and accuracy ratings with increasing excitement, and so he was assigned to Antol, both as a protective measure, and to see how well he performed next to these new "Custom Suits" the Antol monarchy had put into action. His pilot records are the basis for the AI system going into the nearly-complete "Shadowdancer" Custom MB Suit.
Pilot Suit: White trimmed in black
Suit Type: Stinger
Suit Specs: His stinger suit is matte black in color, the only truly distinguishing mark is the right shoulder-plate, which is emblazoned with the stars and stripes of his home country. His suit commonly loads out a long-range laser rifle and short-range thermite cannon.




Carl calmly stepped down from the helicopter. The wind from the rotors tossed his mid-length dirty blonde hair around wildly. He quickly retrieved his black briefcase and green duffel, straightening out his forest green US Army uniform, he set off across the space between the pad and the door to the Terra Une military base.

Carl "Shade" Allen had no real feelings regarding the assignment to the monarchy of Antol, he was to be the American representative in their new Custom MB Suit squad, piloting his old Stinger until such time as the AI for the Shadowdancer was completed.

He stopped at the metal reception desk, dropping his duffel on the ground. "Lieutenant Carl Allen, United States Army, transferring to Terra Une." The man at the desk looked him up and down and began typing something at his terminal, after a moment a sheet of paper was printed out of a nearby slot. "Alright, here is all the info you'll need plus a map, someone will take your baggage to your quarters, you need to make your way to Room 001 for briefing."

Carl quickly picked up his briefcase, and, following the printed map, made his way to the door of the "Omega Room". He calmly straightened his hair and uniform and stepped into the room, glancing around at the faces of the pilots he would be working with, casting his cold gaze around the room, he found a seat and took it, placing his briefcase on the desk in front of him. He retreived a pad of paper and several pens, along with his briefing file, and set the briefcase next to him.

He hated working with foreigners, their discipline always came across as sub-par, and their uniforms tended to be downright silly. He settled into his seat and began leafing through the personnel files for the pilots he would be working with.

 

[Otra]

OOC: We have two of the custom suit pilots (Starsailor and Sauve Intent), a Stinger waiting on his custom suit (Tvayumat), and the leader of the FP squad (Amy). So, we need two more custom suit pilots and two more FP pilots. With this said, I'm going to kick this off with a generic "commander" type and we'll pretend that the characters that we need as of now (which isn't to say we don't need techs, politics, etc.) are already in the Omega Room.

---

Aya fought to stay awake, not wanting to appear lax now that there were actually people to look up at her from around the room. Straighting herself up in her chair, her grey blue eyes focused intently on the commander at the podium. He was an older man, greying at the temples, but still managed the body that came with the military.

"...and I would like to welcome our new fighter pilot squad, led by Ms Aku Shakatshu. They will be providing much needed air support for our mobile suit squad. Last week it was announced that our MB had just finished work on its newest custom suit, the Rynne..."

It was hard for Aya to maintain the calm and cold facade when all she could think of was being introduced next. Sitting up as straight as she could managed, she ignored her itching nose and crossed her ankles.

"Piloting this suit is the newest captain of our MB squad. This young pilot has managed extraordinary feats on the battlefield in spite of a such a relatively new career. Having just defeated the rebels at a sweeping victory at Terrasun, please welcome Captain Ayame Froud-Miyagi."

She stood then, somehow managing a straight face as she took the offered position at the podium. Resting her hands on either side of the flat surface, Aya flashed a wirey grin and nodded her head in the direction of the audience.

"It feels good to be home, to be in Antol and on the Terra Une base once again. I started my career here and I've been away far too long. I look forward to meeting my new team and starting training exercises..."

And, if Aya had any say about it, they would be an entirely different team in less than six months. Even if her age and gender were glaring red flags cast doubt on her leadership, she would prove herself to them. Even if she had to beat them into a bloody pulp, and, quite frankly, she wasn't adverse to that idea.

 

[Suave Intent]

Jonathon

And just as Captain Aya was in the middle of her introductory speech, the metallic doors to the room were abruptly opened and her words were quickly cut off. Not the best first impression that the Lieutenant could make, but definitely one that stuck, one couldn't help but notice his relaxed posture and easy smile as he came strolling into the command room. Not unfamiliar with the integrity or respect that was required for Officers of Antol, Jonathan really just didn't give a shit, and it became all the more evident as he took Aya's now vacant Captain's seat and allowed for his helmet to fall onto the center table in a loud crash.

Still dressed in his flight suit, Jonathan hadn't even taken the time or courtesy to clean himself up after the vigorous workout that he and Tiamat had enjoyed only a half hour prior. His dark brown hair was matted to his forehead which gave him somewhat of a rugged appeal, if anyone were even interested in that look, that is. However, the most distinct feature that highlighted Jonathan's face was the alertness of his eyes...A distinct grey unmarred by any other colors, they had a rather piercing effect as he turned his attentive gaze towards where the Captain was now standing. Every other part of his body was relaxed except for the aforementioned, and so it was always a chore trying to figure out just what was on his mind (which at this time was a bit of surprise, to be honest...this had to be the CO of the Squadron, cause if this was his captain...there was gonna be Hell to pay).

"Click, Click, Click..."

The visor of his helmet went up and down making the distinct "clicking" noise as he focussed his attention towards the younger female standing at attention. If she had done her homework on him, he was every bit as audacious as the reports said.

 

[Tvayumat]

Carl noted with cold care the posture and demeanor of each individual in the room, noting a certain seasoned appeal to the woman who was apparently assigned as Captain. It was stated in his orders that while he was not officially under this woman's command, he was to treat her as a superior as long as doing so did not interfere with the wishes of the United States Army, he noted this and filed it away in his mind for future reference. He listened calmly to the introduction. Ayame... a name he would not forget.

The woman took the podium to begin her introduction, and as her opening words began the door opened. Carl calmly turned his head to observe the brash young pilot who entered, still wearing his flight suit, entering late, unwashed, no courtesy. Everything about this man screamed of inexperience.

'My god' He thought to himself, 'Children, they've assigned me with children, I doubt if this boy has ever looked into the eyes of a man whose life he took...'

Carl shook his head in disgust, making some less than complementary marks next to the entry Lieutenant Jonathan Alexander in his personnell log. Perhaps these Antollian suits were good, but the pilots themselves seemed lacking, it shouldn't take him long to gather the necessary reaction time and combat data on these pilots and suits to complete the Shadowdancer AI.

 

[Goblynn]

Solo

Name: Sara "Solo" Leyland
Country: Antol
Alliance: Monarchy
Age: 28
Gender: Female
Orientation: Heterosexual
Role: Pilot of FP team
Personality: Relaxed but often quiet when dealing with others, Sara prefers the company of her machines and is often found with the mechanics or working on her jet alone. Though skilled with several years of combat and training, she is still fairly young at her work but is fiercely protective of her teammates and makes an excellent defensive pilot.
She was once married to another fighter pilot who was shot down and killed by enemy forces nearly two years ago. This event embittered the young woman and when pressed in combat, is usually merciless and coldly detached.
Appearance: 5'8 Short blonde wavy hair that is generally hidden under a smudged baseball hat once belonging to her husband. Tanned and lithe body under either pilot suit or mechanic overalls. Rarely in makeup, the tomboy has startling light green eyes and high cheekbones that compliment her oval face.
Pilot Suit: Similar grey suit as her Captain's and a solid blue helmut
Aircraft: F-16A (see picture in above post)

Intro Post:
Sara, or Solo to those who knew the pilot well, got up from her crouched position underneath her new jet. After a thorough examination of it, she lightly ran her fingers along the cool metal of it's paneling. 'Can't wait to see what you're like,' the pilot thought affectionately, stroking the jet. She firmly believed that her machines had personalities and definite quirks and was always eager to discover what they were.
Having just been transferred to the Terra Une base a day earlier, she spent most of the hours reading the intel about the newly formed squad members and chatting with the onduty mechanics.
Pulling back her overall sleeve, she glanced at the multipurpose watch that braced her left wrist. She looked back up at the large machine.
"I'll see you later, tough guy." she spoke to him, as she had decided it was in fact, a male. "Duty calls."
She quickly left the hangar, jogging lightly through the empty halls to her room to change into her pilots suit. She threw off her hat onto the cot and slipped out of the greasy workcovers. Now donning her crisp pilot uniform, she ran a hand through sunlighted locks for some semblance of order. Satisfied, Solo left for the Omega Room, punctual as always and found a seat.
The group surrounding her at the table was impressive but already she could see the trouble spots. Her eyes worked over each in attendance with a thoughtful expression, half hearing the droning voice of the Commander. When her new Captain was introduced, she nodded in polite recognition of her though her thoughts were troubled by the age. The skill was there, she had read Aku's file along with the other pilots but wondered if her experience was complimentary to the raw talent. As the older man who was now just introducing the Captain for the MB squadron, Solo's attention was drawn to the other young woman. Another talented Captain with a rising career. Her voice was strong, confident. As her speech was interrupted by the abrupt entrance of a one Lt. Jonathan Alexander, Solo smiled slighty. She had read his file with interest, an obvious impetuous pilot with little or no regard for formalities. There was one in every group. Her eyes slid over to watch this group's reactions to such a man. Some revealed nothing but disdain, Carl Allen's moreso than anyone. The hardened man sat across from her, his cold eyes and strict face rose a certain curiosity in Solo's mind. Closing her thoughts on that, she focused back onto the young face of the MB captain and wondered how she would handle such a display from a lieutenant.

 

[Otra]

The back of Aya's calf was twitching, the muscle rippling under the skin. She was grateful it was doubley hidden, both by the podium and by her pressed slacks. Her posture relaxed almost immediately as it had tensed, her steely gaze following the rude, unwashed Lieutenant. And although her knuckles were no longer white and her body had ceased being poker straight, the thin muscle in her forehead continued to twitch. Thankfully, none in the audience were familiar with her particular posturing or tics.

"Lieutenant Alexander, everyone."

Her warm voice lacked any forced edge. That simple task alone was only able to be achieved from years of working with idiot commanding officers. Smiling and motioing towards the arrogant young man, she waited until he'd stopped clicking his helmet to continue. Had she been given this position had eighteen, her response would have been wholly more violent. Her restraint surprised even Aya, but, she had to remind herself that she was setting the example now. Twenty five and more maturity than the man who was now seated in her spot. He didn't even belong on the front level.

"Words cannot describe how much I look forward to work with each and everyone of you. To our new FP captain, my thanks and welcome. The skill, expertise, and helping hand you lend to our army is much appreciated. To my new squad, I promise to try my hardest to live up to the precendents set by our late commander. To command and the King, thank you for the opportunity to lead my country to victory. We will crush the rebels and put an end to this ungodly idiotic war. We will put an end to this. God bless Antol and God save the King."

Aya could have easily rushed to Lieutenant Alexander's chair, her chair, and dumped him out in front of the assembled. Instead, she took a step to the side of the podium and stood at attention. Saluting the crowd, she knew that this would be the test. Those equal to her rank and out ranking her would salute out of mutual respect. Those who she would be commanding and who she out ranked would salute or they wouldn't. Those that didn't would be carefully cataloged and remembered.

All she wanted to do was change into her pilot's suit and check on Rynne. After that, Aya was intent on checking with the mechanics and technicians. Then, she wanted to speak with her unit and set up a training schedule; the current one simply wouldn't do. Perhaps, if she had time, she'd speak to Ms Shakatshu. But, first things first, she waited for the commander to dismiss those gathered in the Omega Room.

 

[Suave Intent]

The subtle twitching on the Captain’s forehead hadn’t gone unnoticed like she would have preferred, but the incessant “clicking” of his visor did come to an abrupt halt as she continued on with her speech. Jonathan had heard this type of crap a thousand times over, and soon enough, his eyes started to wander from person to person to see their reaction to the customary introductory bullshit. Aside from the Commanding Officer, there was only one other male in the room and he could tell that the American (at least from the looks of it) didn’t much care for him. A slight grin crept up along his lips at the thought as he gave the male a curt nod of his head. It wasn’t outlandishly rude or arrogant like his previous actions, but it easily bordered and could just as easily be misconstrued as such.

Shifting his attention towards the fairer of the sex, he was more than a bit surprised that he was outnumbered in this regard. Although he knew that some of Antol’s greatest pilots were female, most of his squads consisted of primarily males. Not that he was sexist, but Jonathan noted everything, and that meant every single minor detail. Catching Sara’s eyes as the Captain droned on about “wanting to work with each and everyone,” he couldn’t help but offer a rather playful wink as he caught her in mid-stare. None of these actions were lost on the Captain, if anything, he made them blatant enough to show her that he was purposefully ignoring her words.

After all was said and done and Aya arose to salute them all, Jonathan immediately stood up and went right towards the commanding officer. Powerful strides carried his tall frame to within whispering distance of the elderly man as a few clandestine words were shared. A deep sigh was offered by the older gentleman as first Jonathan, then the Commander, stepped in private to have a few brief words.

Their speech was anything but clandestine or subdued.

“I want out, Commander Locke. It’s a great privilege to be chosen, I feel honored, yada yada yada…but this squad isn’t for me, and you know it.”

Taking his time and hearing the young Lieutenant express himself, Commander Locke couldn’t suppress a grin as he poured the MS pilot a glass of water. Lieutenant Alexander…was somewhat of an enigma. Top marks in the academy and graduating with Honors in almost every aspect, everyone expected great things from Jonathan, and he had definitely reciprocated. However…that had all changed during his seventh mission as Captain, a classified mission that occurred several years ago and one that had indefinitely altered Jonathan for better or worse. He was never the same, and many people had noted it…especially those who sat in seats of power.

“I understand your sentiments, Lieutenant, but your Stinger squadron has already been reassigned to various units throughout the Empire. Hell…one of you is bad enough, a whole squadron of you had the higher-ups scared shitless. So…how did you like it?”

Those grey eyes were definitely one of Jonathan’s most intimidating traits, and as they bored into the officer in front of him…there was no question why they had let him remain a Captain for as long as he had before finally demoting him and reassigning him to this squadron. The water that had been offered by the commander was quickly taken as he allowed for the clear fluid to quench his parched throat…the shocked expression still hadn’t been removed from his face.

“You…what?! First you demote me and put me under this amateur captain, next you tell me you/ve disbanded my squadron?! This is absolute bullshit and I demand to know what the Fuck is going on!”

“You didn’t answer my question, Jonathan…How did you like it?” He was measuring Jonathan like he always did…Hell, he was only one of few who could actually put the Lieutenant in his place.

Jonathan was by no means a stupid man, and he knew that he wasn’t going to get anything out of the commander until he answered the proposed question.

“The Tiamat…The response time is definitely faster than any Stinger I’ve been in, even the modified units that had been assigned to my squadron. But something didn’t feel right…I felt WAY too comfortable in there. Hell…it’s like I had been flying in that thing my whole life.”

“EXACTLY!!!” came the excited reply from the older man in front of him. “You haven’t been made privy to this information yet, and most members of the squadron will probably remain ignorant to this fact…but I’m going to let you in on a lil’ secret. There’s a reason why you were demoted and reassigned, Lieutenant, and that’s because this unit has been custom-made for you, as well as the other members of your squadron. Data was taken from your’s and your squadron’s previous MS’, and that’s how we developed these prototypes. You’re a good Captain, although many would disagree, but the things you do in a Stinger…is scary. You’re wreckless, and that’s why we don’t want you making any rash decisions…Captain Aya…is a little bit more thoughtful. Where you go in sword drawn, she’ll wait things out and look at all the angles. And…” putting his hand up to stop the Lieutenant from interrupting…“I know this is why you’re talking to me, you don’t want to work underneath someone younger and less experienced than you. I fought long and hard to get you into this position, Jonathan…the Council wanted to have you court-martialed for that stunt you pulled at Talstarine…and I got you into one of the most advanced units we’ve developed. You owe me…” The commander’s eyes were now locked onto Jonathan’s, but anyone could tell that the Lieutenant was anything but pleased…

 

[Tvayumat]

Carl kept his eyes focused forward, he heard the introductory speech, but didn't truly listen. He paid more attention to the woman's balance, her mannerism, how she carried herself. He had to know these people's every detail, every thought, he had a job to do, after all.

After the speech the woman stepped alongside the podium and snapped a salute, while noting that such an action, in his military, would be unthinkable while uncovered inside, he quickly pulled his combo cover over his head and snapped a return salute.

The brash young pilot quickly stood and strode across the room, engaging in a conversation with the commanding officer to the side. These Antollians made him sick, their military seemed little more than a conglomeration of JROTC cadets parading as military men and women.

 

[Otra]

Aya grit her teeth as Lieutenant Alexander strode up to Commander Locke and the two exited the Omega Room. Her first impulse was to race down the hall after them, grab the asshole by his ear, and slam his face against the wall. But, after a few deep breaths and a 'look' from the few COs that had sway over her behavior, that impulse was cooled.

Lieutenant Alexander was a dead man. It took her a moment to realize, but, Aya realized she was going to enough breaking him down. She was a good commander, that had been proved in Africa, India, and in Terrasun. That tiny municipality of Antol had more than proved that she could handle herself and her team. They looked at her like she was a child; a grave misunderestimation. And tomorrow, during training, she was going to show them exactly why Ayame Miyagi was feared and respected on the battefield.

It took her only a moment to find her room and begin changing out of her clothes. The slim, form fitting black suit was much more comfortable. At times it felt like she lived in the breathable material. Slipping into her tall black boots, Aya was out once again and starting towards the hanger. Although petite, her dark suit, pale complexion, and white hair cut an impressive figure. Grinning like mad when she caught end of Rynne at the end of the hanger, she rushed towards the suit like she was a child in a candy store. Whipping around quickly to make sure no one had seen her display, Aya began tracing her fingers lightly along the black paint.

"You and me, kid, we're going places. Absolutely beautiful...we'll show these idiots a thing or two."

She'd been away far too long. If someone like Lieutenant Alexander could become a captain to be demoted, then things had deteriorated. She might be young and a woman, but, she would have never behaved like that during a meeting.

"Bang."

 

[Tvayumat]

"So the system actually PREDICTS the future?" The man's brows furrowed in confusion. The two men paced slowly around a series of metal catwalks in the darkened hangar, the white-colored metal of the MB suit they examined shined brightly even in the little light there was. "In a way... yes. You see, it's system uses multiple differentiated Artificial Intelligences to calculate each and every possibility in a given situation, then, the calculations are narrowed down and the system creates a movement pattern that will move the suit to avoid the maximum number of possible reasonable threats as well as maximizing the possible kill zone of the weapons systems." They both wore green US Army uniforms, the insignia of a five-star general sparkled on each of their lapels "But the pilot executes the action himself?" "Yes, you see the computer has access to the pilots higher brain functions during combat, allowing for all of these calculations to be done and acted upon immediately and naturally, I understand your concerns, but the system is nearly flawless, the suit is virtually impossible to actually land a blow on" The first man stopped, his eyes widening "His higher brain functions? You are putting a human's mind at the mercy of a machine?" The second man turned to face the tall, gleaming white suit "I assure you, there are many safety protocols in place to ensure that the pilot's mind is never at risk of being dominated by the machines, and without it the system would be too slow to be effective" The first general now stood beside him, his eyes tracing the sleek lines of the machine "So.... tell me about the weapon systems" "Well, when designing the weapon system for the suit, we looked to the teachings of Muhammad." "The Prophet?" "The boxer, 'Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee', well, two articulate vernier engines combined with our latest fuel compression technology can keep it floating, even in space, for a good year without one refuel, though they can be somewhat rough on the pilot." He raised his finger to point to the large engines mounted to either shoulder. "And the sting?" "I think a large supply of tactical nuclear weapons is quite a bee sting, don't you?" His finger moved to point to the launch tube on the back. "My god, nuclear weapons, space faring, independently operating, and a machine that has direct access to the pilot's brain? What in god's name are you thinking, you can't put all this power in the hands of one man." The second general scoffed some at this "Don't worry so much, this suit is designed for one man alone, and I assure you, Lieutenant Allen is the most stable pilot we have, our psych probes made damn sure of that." They resumed their pacing walk around the catwalk "So, when will it be ready to go then?" "Well, Lieutenant Allen is retreiving the last pieces we need to complete the AI system as we speak, in the meantime we are outfitting it for more practical combat application as well at his request, beam sword, vulcan cannons, thermite cannon, beam rifle, and a heavy anti-armor cannon, the Shadowdancer will be quite the presence on the battlefield, the most advanced suit ever created." "I pray, for all our sakes, that you are right about this man." "You don't have to pray, it's scientific fact."

OOC:
Here are a few pics I used for inspiration, taken from the coolest MS in history, the Tallgeese

General Look
Vernier Engines
Coolest Head Ever

 

[Goblynn]

Solo

After the brief meeting in the Omega Room, Solo returned to her sparse bunk on the north end of the compound and turned on her laptap. The small computer sitting on her desk blinked into life and began it's startup programs, clicking and whirring. The pilot unzipped her suit and shrugged out of it casually, watching the screen for new messages from superiors or even fellow comrades. She kept in touch with a few friends she had made on previous bases and enjoyed hearing about their coded adventures or tricky gossip.
She thought perhaps they were all currently on missions as the laptop gave her nothing new to see or hear.
"Display Custom MB suits."
The spoken command engaged the computer to instantly display the four current MB suits in production. Solo, now wearing military shorts and a tanktop bearing the Antollian flag, sat down on her chair and took a harder look at what she was going to be flying with tomorrow.
Her mouth dropped open slightly as she viewed the statistics in disbelief. Solo scrolled down the screen, appreciating the aesthetic beauty of the suits as a large picture of the Rynne appeared. The pilot leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms, the intimidating 'face' of the machine staring at her.
"Good thing you're on my side."

A growing hunger in Solo's belly suggested a visit to the mess hall. The tall woman strode the halls with an easy stride, a pullover hoodie keeping away the chill from the halls. Her customary hat rode low on her head, her eyes nearly invisible from view. Her thoughts drifted from the rising anxiousness for battle to her new family. An uneasy tension was already forming and Solo wondered how well they could possibly fly as a team. Flying required a separate state of mind and she hoped that the mixture of people brought together here could find a mutual one. She pushed through the large doors concealing the mess hall and the smell of warm food made her stomach growl. The room was deserted and the cooks banging around in the kitchen were busy preparing for mealtime. She foraged around finding little to eat except a nameless leftover sandwich in a cooler. After a suspicious sniff of the food, she shrugged and sat down at one of the extended tables. While eating, the pilot gazed unseeingly, her mind well entrenched in memory.

 

[Amy (Roleplay)]

(Hey i was wondering maybe we could have someone (not one of the main characters) saboutage the FP team Aircraft or the MB's Suits

After the meeting in the Omega Room, Aku exited the building and caught a lift with a passing soldier carrier to the docking bay, where her teams jets were, she jogged over to her F-16XL and ran her hands over the sides checking for any bumps on dents, she had never trusted carriers, she would have rather have flown it over by herself but her former commander wouldn't allow it.

She heard the sound of the Soldier carrier returning and a Male soldier shout "Hey Cap'in, Mess Halls throwin up some grub" she nodded her hea dand went back over to the Soldier carrier hopping in, it drove off to the mess hall.

Aku entered the mess hall and grabbed herself a tray of food and, looked around, spotting Solo, she said to herself

"Oh well, Time to build Morale"

She picked her drink up and walked over to where Solo was sitting, sitting down opposite her, waiting for one of them to speak.

 

[Goblynn]

At the motion of someone drawing near, Solo's eyes focused back to the present and she lifted up the brim of her hat to see who approached.
"Hello, Ma'am," she acknowledged politely. The young captain seemed open and willing to dine with lower ranking officers. Nice.
Solo eyed the warm food tray that her captain was currently picking through. The sandwich had long been eaten and it satisfied the blonde only in the fact that it quieted her hunger. The steaming plate of dinner food however looked much more appetizing. Next time, she thought.
"Can I ask what you think of the custom suits that we're tagging along with tomorrow? I mean, it seems unlikely they need our help with much of anything considering their abilities."

 

[Tvayumat]

The Rynne. Truly an impressive MB suit, sleek lines and jointed armor, a striking coloration, it struck an imposing figure. Carl calmly observed Captain Aya from the second story catwalk, closer to the pilot's entry hatch, he stood back away from the normal lighting, now clad in his night fatigues, the black breathable cloth making his movements smooth and easy. Aya seemed to have a certain.... affection, for her MB suit, a feeling he did not share for his nearly stock Stinger, and he certainly felt no comradery toward the bestial Shadowdancer, that engine of massacre. But he had orders to follow, and his personal feelings were of no consequence.

"Impressive piece of equipment"

He stood now in full view above Aya, the sleeves of his fatigues casually rolled up to his elbows.

 

[Otra]

It was odd for any MB pilot to find him or herself behind more than one model, but, Aya had managed to try out all three before the Rynne was developed. She had started with a Gauche suit, but, it was obvious it wasn't a good fit. The young woman was far to willing to act like a human shield and cost far too much money in repairs. Her Stinger had been a better fit, in that she'd racked up an impressive amount of sniper kills, but the fact was that Aya didn't like to sit still for too long. Which, in the end, had lead to her piloting a Dual -- a most successful partnership.

But, in the end, she absolutely adored the piece of machinary in front of her. It had only taken a few test runs to confirm that the AI system was integrated properly. Flawless. The machine couldn't think, per say, but it had an uncanny connection with its pilot; something that most couldn't explain. Dr. Froud-Miyagi liked to think it was the family connection, but that was just wishful thinking. While it most likely had to do with neurons snapping and electrical pulses, the fact was, when Aya was on the field with Rynne, it was a rather wonderful sight.

"Impressive piece of equipment"

"My baby. I know we're not supposed to get attatched, just a machine and everything, but it's hard considering it's built specifically for its pilot. Lieutenant Allen?"

Aya's head snapped up and took in the view of the man who was a part of her unit but not truly under her command. It was a little unsettling, having been briefed that while the US had sent suits to help, their pilots weren't there to take orders from foreigners. Fair enough, she supposed, but Aya liked control and that certainly took some control away.

"What do you think of Antol? The Terra Une base? I've been half way around the world but I haven't been to America yet, pity."

Her hand was still touching her MB suit, an almost protective gesture, but she allowed for a small smile to creep across her face. It wasn't unprecedented that she could be social outside training and battle situations. However, when it came down to such things, she was as hard and unyielding as the rumors said.

 

[Suave Intent]

Hours had passed since Jonathan and Commander Locke had last spoken, yet the other’s words still rang fresh in his mind. “…this unit has been custom-made for you, as well as the other members of your squadron. Data was taken from yours and your squadron’s previous MS’, and that’s how we developed these prototypes…” It was no secret that each MB had logs, but to actually customize units according to those logs…was something that was unheard of. Taking a moment to collect his thoughts, Jonathan slowly rolled out of his bed and shifted into a sitting position. A deep breath escaped the prison of his mouth as his body flexed in response, torso muscles tightening then relaxing as a few more deep breaths were taken to compose himself. Even though the situation presented some rather startling information, nothing was going to be solved by sitting in his room. He needed a walk.

Grabbing a black wifebeater and throwing it over his shoulders, Jonathan quickly vacated his room and headed towards the hangar. Although he had already piloted Tiamat several hours prior, there were a few adjustments that he thought were necessary if were to fully utilize the unique operating system that the machine enabled. Truth be told, he was rather excited at the prospect of just how far he could push this suit. In the past, Jonathan had always been frustrated with the speed, or lack of, that typical Stingers possess. Hell, even when his unit had been assigned advanced and specialized Stingers, it hadn’t nearly been enough to appease him. This…this might be different.

Entering the hanger, Jonathan made a quick note of Carl and Aya’s presence before immediately moving opposite their direction and to the station where the Tiamat stood prone and waiting. Although somewhat transfixed in the attention he gave to his unit, Jonathan couldn’t help but admire the craftsmanship and dedication that was evident in the other 4 suit’s design. Each unique and apparently tailored to the pilots who they were assigned, he couldn’t help but notice some distinct features in the other suits. Where the Tiamat was designed specifically for suit-to-suit combat, the other units were entirely different. The Rynne, as was evident from the weapons it boasted and its design, was made specifically to be the commanding unit of the squadron. Not bulky like the Gauche units or as frail and agile as Stingers, it was a perfectly balanced unit that looked capable of above-average performances in all aspects of MS capabilities. From what he could tell, the Nighthawk was pretty much in the same division as the Rynne. The other two units weren’t there at the moment, something which Jonathan noted in the back of his mind…but he had already made certain assumptions based off the pilots they currently had and the units he had seen. More likely than not, one unit was to be molded after the Gauche suits, heavily armored and meant to take a beating. The other unit…was probably going to be the most heavily armed of the 5, boasting an array of weapons that Jonathan didn’t even want to imagine.

Shaking his head at the digression in thoughts, grey eyes slowly scanned every inch of the machine that now stood in front of him. Although he didn’t look the part in the black wifebeater and army slacks, the technicians immediately recognized the Lieutenant and came to an abrupt salute. A casual grin spread across his lips at their reaction to his presence before a nonchalant salute of his own was returned. A few words were shared, some technical, some friendly, before the crew and pilot parted ways with the latter going directly towards the cockpit. The space was cramped, as were all suits, but Jonathan couldn’t have been more at home in the “spacious” (note the sarcasm) quarters. Flickering lights and data displays came to life as he initiated the suit’s onboard computer…the glow of the lights casting a rather intimidating shadow across the tanned skin of his face. Agile fingers played expertly over the controls of the suit as he started reconfiguring the OS settings (something that not all the logs in all the previous MS suits he had piloted could have gotten right) to those that he desired. The machine may have been constructed with his piloting capabilities and skills intended, but no one could ever replace the human touch that made the pilots stand out from the suit.

 

[Tvayumat]

"Too bad you've never been, it's truly amazing. Antol is.... impressive, your MB suits are unrivaled as of yet..."

Carl placed one hand on the hull of the suit, admiring it's craftsmanship and feel.

"I admit, my interest in coming here was to see the suit, I don't suppose you'd like to show me the inside?"

He nodded solemnly toward the cockpit hatch, putting as amiable a face on as he could. This woman might not be the type, but he had to find a way into that cockpit, if only for a moment.

 

[Otra]

Aya simply nodded, having nothing to add to the Lieutenant's statement. When his hand reached out and touched the hull of the Rynne, her eyes narrowed a bit but she kept her mouth shut. No sense in ruffling feathers if he was simply admiring her suit. Wouldn't do to piss off the one person she had very little control over.

"I'm a afraid she's a little...well, how can I put this?"

She was attempting diplomacy all the while a knot was forming in her stomach. While it was true that her ship was very selective about who could enter; Aya was the only one who could do so without a pass code and there were three techs on staff who had passcodes so they could work on the ship if need be. However, truth be told, she didn't want someone else in the cockpit. Aya was extremely possessive of her suit, even having only known it for such a short period of time, and she liked the idea that the suit was fit to her and her only.

"The Rynne's a bit...private. AI, I know, but, I'm deranged enough to think of her as having a personality."

 

[Tvayumat]

Carl smiled a bit to himself, despite his cool demeanor, a challenge was always welcome. He stroked the metal once, admiring it, then turned and looked down at Aya.

"It's alright, I understand. Don't suppose you care to get a drink? I don't really know my way around very well"

A lie, he knew his way around perfectly well already, part of his job. But he needed this woman to feel more comfortable around him. He recognized that his very presence posed a challenge to her leadership, so he needed her to think of him not as an adversary, but a partner.

 

[Otra]

"I suppose that would be allowed. It would be nice to learn more about those in my command. Two more custom suits have been cleared to dock, so, the last two pilots should be arriving soon. There was an attack in Pakistan this morning, they might have been drawn in."

Aya smiled politely, hoping to draw any and all attention away from her suit. She didn't want Lieutenant Allen touching it, but, that was personal preference. He was wholly more enjoyable company than Lieutenant Alexander appeared to be. So, she accepted the invitation and made a motion to exit the hanger.

"They've done some changes since I was last here, but, Terra Une will probably always stay the same for the most part. The Officer's Wing is a couple floors up, but, we can side step the Mess and catch a drink there."

She'd been looking forward to taking her suit out for a pointless exercise. Tomorrow she wouldn't get much time to enjoy Rynne, she'd be watching how her squad performed. Then there was a meeting with the leader of the FP squad. Then, if she wasn't completely pissed by that point, combat training and perhaps a little field test.