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Choice of Games - Mecha Ace

Silmaril

Silmaril

Location
Britain
After getting this and playing the hell out of it a dozen times over and then seeing lots of other playthroughs of choice of games on here I thought I may as well put this out there. So I welcome you to Mecha ace. Where you choose the adventure.
(Please note that I have taken the randomising genders for NPCs option that is recommended for first playthroughts.)



Episode 1:
A struggle amidst the stars. The battle for Vedria Prime.

Orbit over Vedria Prime, Vedria System
419 Interstellar Era

You pull back on the throttles as the battered Imperial combat armature in your sights begins to glow with the tell-tale light of a core breach. You shift your weight in your seat, your skin-tight pilot suit stretching as your own mecha's controls register your movement. Your multi-ton war machine halts just meters in front of the stricken enemy machine at the commands of your flesh and blood body inside the cockpit.

With a twist of your legs, your control interface sends the twelve metric tons of your combat armature's leg crashing into the disintegrating enemy machine, sending it careening off into the middle of the enemy formation. With a brilliant, self-annihilating flash, the crippled machine's matter-antimatter core goes critical, taking two other hostiles with it.

Around you, more enemy machines die as allied mecha pour supporting fire into them, exploiting the hole torn in the enemy formation by your attack. Command had been wise to choose you to lead the attack, for you were an elite ace with sixty kills.

Now you have sixty-three.

Their formation shattered, the enemy advance guard flees for the safety of their distant support vessels. Behind you, the main body of the fleet moves up to press the attack, allowing you and your fellow pilots in the advance guard to regroup.

You scan your tactical display, hoping to find and rendezvous with your unit. Instead, you find three, dim energy readings heading away from you, each with the tell-tale signatures of escape pods.

What do you do?

[ ]Killing helpless foes would be dishonorable. I let them go.

[ ] I'm a soldier, not a murderer. I don't want to kill anyone I don't have to.

[ ] Killing them would waste ammunition I could need later. I let them go.

[ ] I cannot afford to let three experienced enemy pilots live.

[ ] Why should I let those impie bastards live? I kill them all!
 
[x] I'm a soldier, not a murderer. I don't want to kill anyone I don't have to.

Too bad there's no "take prisoners" option.
 
[X] I'm a soldier, not a murderer. I don't want to kill anyone I don't have to.
No need to be murderhappy.
 
[X] Why should I let those impie bastards live? I kill them all!

In the absence of normative ethics orders find something and kill it
 
[X]Killing helpless foes would be dishonorable. I let them go.

If we do this right we can be absolutely fucking nuts; doing crazy things for crazy reasons
 
You push the throttle forward with one hand as you designate the enemy escape pods as targets with the other, a familiar sequence of movements made second nature by five years of fighting against the oppression of Old Earth. You position your combat armature behind the trio of tiny, egg-like craft as they fly for the safety of the Imperial fleet's defensive fire.

You close into point-blank range and you raise your mecha's weapon, opening fire at a distance which almost guarantees direct hits.

You squeeze the trigger three times and the star-studded sky is filled with three dying blooms of pale fire and shattered metal.

You can almost imagine the despairing wails of the Imperial pilots as their fragile escape pods disintegrate around them and their bodies are painfully immolated.

The thought almost brings a smile to your lips.

A voice brings you out of your pensive mood and into the here and now. "Nice shooting, boss. Glad to see we're not pulling any punches today."

The window on your commscreen displays the image of a black-haired young woman with full, cherry lips, a snub nose, and skin the color of milk tea, her smile made up of equal parts approval and admiration: Ensign Fatima Asadi, your wingman, possessed of undoubted talent, healthy aggression, and a killer instinct which has made her a valued asset thus far.

You smile back, answering your wingman's youthful enthusiasm with a hunter's grin of your own.

"We're warriors Asadi; our job is to kill the enemy. We wouldn't be very good warriors if we didn't do our jobs, right?"

Asadi's grin redoubles.

"That makes all the sense in the galaxy to me

[ ] "...sir."

[ ] "...ma'am."
 
You nod your head.

"Glad I've made myself clear, Asadi," you say, as you look over your main display, beyond your wingman's face and at the battle still raging before you, high above Vedria Prime's surface.

Half a decade of war has honed your ability to pick out friend from foe to a razor's edge. Within seconds, you are able to pick out the friendly warships and combat armature units of the fleet as they open up against the main body of the hated enemy.

They, like you, fight for the Coalition of Democratic Extrasolar Colonies, an alliance of human colonies fighting for independence from the growing tyranny of Old Earth's Empire of Humanity Ascendant.

The rebellion itself had been centuries in the making. While the human species had needed strong, central authority to govern it during the first uncertain decades of interstellar colonization, the organization that would become the Empire did not adapt to changing realities as Earth's colonies grew into powers in their own right.

Ultimately, the result had been a government who claimed to speak for all of humanity, but one which concentrated all power in the one-seventh of the human race that lived within humanity's home system. Instead of delegating power to the ascendant colonies, Old Earth had sought to rein in its growing children with increasingly restrictive policies. When the outer colonies protested, the Empress and her court responded by stripping entire worlds of their charters and ruling by decree.

After that, open rebellion had only been a matter of time.


In the early days of the rebellion, the forces of Earth's rebelling colonies had been poorly organized and armed with nothing more than improvised weapons, warships, and combat armatures. You had been one of the first volunteers. The moment the concept of colonial revolution became something more concrete, you joined up with the newborn rebellion's rag-tag armed forces.

You had only one thing on your mind that day, and you joined CoDEC's military as a combat armature pilot for one reason:


[ ] Revenge for what the Empire had done to my family.

[ ] To support the cause of freedom from the tyranny of Old Earth.

[ ] To shield those dear to me from the destruction of war.

[ ] A chance for power, fame, maybe even high office at the end of the war.

[ ] To kill people with official backing.

[ ] My homeworld had joined the rebellion. It's my duty to defend her.
 
[X] To kill people with official backing.
 
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