trans_9 | Battle of Lobnas Sord [Open]

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Battle of Lobnas Sord [Open]

Spaurh had found the sensoriums. At first she'd merely been curious, recreating a few places from memory, trying out the zero-gravity simulation. She'd even dabbled in the piloting program (and found that she was almost as good as she had been out of training). And then she'd recreated her flagship. It had been perfect - almost too perfect. The crew acted like the real crew. Her Chief-of-Staff was so real that she'd almost thought he'd materialized next to her. Of course, that's when that worming little thought had burrowed into her head - what if? Could the battle at the Sord have gone differently? Could she have saved more of her men, her ships?

Despite her rather smug exterior, she honestly had cared for those under her command, even if in some abstract way. And even though she'd achieved a "victory" of sorts at Lobnas, the defeat had still stung. She was supposed to be rebuilding her squadron. Instead she was here. So, at a loss, she'd replayed the battle in the Sensoriums. And then again. And then again. She lost less ships, she lost more ships. But every time the losses had been crippling to her little fleet. And now she was doing it again. The ship rocked from a nearby explosion, "Looks like the enemy is stupid..."

She had made it this far into the fight - the retreat from the Sord, breaking enemy contact. But just as the first time, they were following her. Her crew, her wonderfully trained crew were giving it there all. Reports continued to stream in from the fleet. Another ship had exploded. and then-

"Mine! Incoming!"

"Evasive-"

The ship shuddered for a moment from an impact and a frantic bridge officer begin yelling as information scrolled across his screen, "Impact! Our engines are disabled! Another-"

The ship shuddered underneath her again and then the deck plating seemed to rise to meet her as the entire room turned into blinding white light. It faded out a few moments later, leaving Spaurh standing on an empty bridge. The words "Ship destroyed" burned across the viewscreen. Spaurh bit back a curse and stalked back to her command chair and slumped, sulking. There had to be some way to get a better result out of the fight....

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"That's true. There's no real substitute for actual combat. Simulations can only prepare you so much before you have to experience the real thing," Spaurh leans her chin in her hand idly, the other making a few sweeping gestures, "Death is a powerful motivator."

"The other thing is, without Colo to work with, it's just not the same." She slouches in her chair. "Engels are unique, all of them. There's no way to really simulate how it feels to pilot one." She sounds kind of like someone with a lost lover--or a forcibly-prevented addiction. "There's a thrill to it you can't get with a normal system."

"Well, I'm not quite sure if I can relate to that."

Spaurh drops her free hand to tap against the armrest, murmuring something. A moment later she's back in her uniform.

"I mean, it's not as if we have anything like your systems to relate it to."

"We barely have anything to relate it to... Engels are a pretty big leap from even our normal main battle mechs." Luly weaves her fingers together. "I... eh, I could set up a Broadsword or something if you'd kind of want to get a feel for it," she offers. "Old-gen by now, but they're sturdy as hell and twice as reliable. And you don't need a couple years of specialist training to handle the interface."

Spaurh shrugs, "May as well. We've nothing else to do at the moment."

Luly nods, and focuses, and snaps her fingers again—

They're suddenly in a broad, open, Earthlike grassy plain, stretching to the horizon—simply an abstracted-out environment, probably. But not alone... no, they're both sitting on top of an inert thirty-eight-foot-tall war machine (http://www.cthulhutech.com/media/art/claymore.jpg).

"This is a Claymore," Luly says, rapping the blocky 'head' affectionately. "They're kind of... the closest you can get to an Engel without actually being in one.

Spaurh shifts slightly, still trying to adjust to the gravity. She peers down at her Claymore with a degree of amusement and interest. Almost like a child examining a new toy.

She glances over at Luly and shrugs, "How does one operate this?"

"Well, first you get in the cockpit." Luly raps on the 'head' again, in shave-and-a-haircut pattern.

The chest plates shift, move, and slide open under them, revealing access to a rather cramped-looking interior. Hard but not impossible to get into down from where the two women are.

"Looks cramped," she murmurs, then slips inside after a few moments of contortions and wriggling. Cramped isn't too bad - she's not claustrophobic. Might get uncomfortable though.

There's a single, tight fit of a seat, with a full five-point harness involved.

"Strap yourself in and I'll start it up," Luly says from up top, then raps on the outside again. Slowly, the chest section starts to seal inwards again.

Spaurh glances over the controls as she straps herself in, then glances up as the cockpit starts to seal up. She fights down a brief flare of panic - being stuck inside this thing can't be any worse than being in a ship in space. At least here if something goes horribly, drastically wrong, there's oxygen and gravity outside.

"Ready."

As the mech seals shut, the controls slide back into place from their semi-recessed positions. Foot pedals, a pair of joysticks with a small array of buttons on some kind of articulated arm-things, and... that's it? Seems kind of minimal...

And then, blinding out the dim glow of various status lights, the wraparound screens light up. The seams of the panels are obvious, but they still go about 270 degrees around, above, and even a bit below, ending well past the hand controls. For about ten seconds it's just all startup displays and status readouts on a neutral tiled-NEG-logo background, but then the clusters die away, revealing a picture-perfect view of that same grass outside—

—and the Side Effect kicks in. Spaurh may get a sudden case of vertigo at the very convincing, brain-mushing feeling of being forty feet tall with chicken-legs.

She pokes the controls experimentally while she waits, settling her feet over the pedals and shifting until she manages to get comfortable. Her fingers wrap around the joysticks and she laughs to herself. It seems rather... primitive, especially when compared to the interfaces on an Abh starship. Still, she supposes that it will have to do.

The screens light up and she waits patiently, watching and reading the displays and readouts as they pop up and scroll past. A distraction, at best.

And then suddenly she feels like she's just stood up far too fast and everything is just a bit dizzy. She resists the urge to throw her arms out to steady herself as she suddenly feels like she's the mech. She blinks, trying to clear her head, trying to adjust.

"...I... well, that was... unexpected."

"Careful!" Luly says, clinging to her position atop the mech. Filtered through the external mikes, it sounds a little bit mechanical, though the spatial positioning of the noise inside the cockpit is spot-on.

As the initial overload-rush fades into continued sensation, Spaurh might realize she can feel Luly there, sitting on her—well, not her, but in the slow thrum of the D-Engine that powers the war machine, her brain doesn't want to make that distinction...

Spaurh turns her head, trying to see what's on her shoulder. It takes her a moment to realize that it's Luly, standing on the metal surface of the machine. This is strange. It's similar to when she hooks into a ship, but different at the same time. She swivels her head back to the screens and tries to dispel the vague feeling that she's having an out-of-body experience.

"Well, this is certainly different."

"Try and move around some," Luly says, readjusting her perch. "Take it slow, this rig can move pretty fast for its size."

Spaurh will find that trying to walk just... works. With the altered prioperception the machine gives her, working her own feet against the pedals to make the machine match feels entirely natural, somehow, and in fact there's a degree of precision to it the physical controls shouldn't actually be allowing...

"Understood."

She breathes in, breathes out and then just... walks. It's almost as easy as it normally is. She can feel every step, she knows how to balance on instinct. It's almost unnerving how easy it is.

She's probably getting an idea now of why D-Engine-powered mecha are so popular on Luly's world.

"What do you think?"

"It's different. In a good way."

Indeed she is. She doesn't think she could stand spending a long stretch of time down here on this planet, but the interface is certainly fascinating.

Luly pats the 'head' of the mecha lightly. Spaurh can feel it, through the weird sensory-translation. "Part of the funny thing is, main battle mech shells don't even have pressure sensors. Everything you're feeling is through the Side Effect synchronizing you with the machine."

"That's... interesting. Although I'm not sure I want to find out what happens when I get shot at."

She slowly brings the mech to a stop and turns her head from side to side, glancing around. Nothing but grass, but she still can't shake how eerie this all feels.

"It's not as bad as you'd think, actually," Luly says, leaning forward a little farther into Spaurh's field of view. "You feel the impact, but the pain doesn't really cross over. Sort of a best of both worlds... you know where the damage is, but it doesn't actually get in the way of your thinking. Hey, why don't you try holding an arm out..." she says.

"I still would not like to find out first-hand," she pauses, glances up, and then extends her arm out, gears shifting as the mech responds to her movements.

"I think I'm getting the hang of it."

Luly carefully climbs down, out onto the arm and settles onto the hand. "Don't drop me," she cautions, though she doesn't seem especially afraid of the height. "An Engel... It's the same kind of thing as this, except that when you really get focused, there's no separation at all between you and it."

Spaurh keeps the arm extended, watching Luly carefully. She's not going to drop her, but she has to question the other's idea of safety (well, she's already seen that first-hand...). She shudders slightly, the frame of the mech shaking in tandem.

"I'm not sure I'd like that. It seems too... Hmm."

Battle of Lobnas Sord [Open]

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