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Super Robot Quest G

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    • Does anyone think we need some more names for the Steed? The way I see it, we have at least 3 models: the original model that transforms between motorcycle and power armor, the modified model that serves as a cockpit and ejector module for larger robots, and the pilotless model that Iris is using for a chassis, that basically just transforms between motorcycle and robot. Do you think these models are unique enough to deserve different names, and if so, what?

    Then again, the Phalanx chassis has both piloted and unpiloted modes (Hoplites/Perseus vs Charlie), and there isn't a need for a new name for the unpiloted chassis…
     
    storysmith112358 said:
    Does anyone think we need some more names for the Steed? The way I see it, we have at least 3 models: the original model that transforms between motorcycle and power armor, the modified model that serves as a cockpit and ejector module for larger robots, and the pilotless model that Iris is using for a chassis, that basically just transforms between motorcycle and robot. Do you think these models are unique enough to deserve different names, and if so, what?
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    Not particularly. We haven't been informed of Iris having any notable differences from a stock Steed (visually, at least) aside from being autonomous, so she doesn't need anything different; just calling her Iris is plenty to differentiate. And the cockpit ones, at most, would need some subdesignation (i.e. "Pilot Type") instead of a completely new name.
     
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    Since the Steel cockpit armor is meant for pilot's, Why not call that armor, the Pilot Hawk, Named after the armor that Rhiannon Bruce the Protagonist of Heir Of The Bruce, Battletech Dynasty Quest. a Battletech quest on SB wears when she goes flying. It is currently on it's fourth thread and is over 1.8 million words not including side stories and so on
     
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    I feel no particular kinship with that quest or it's protagonist. Not even with Battletech, despite the fact that Battletech as a setting does look kind of nice on the surface, which I barely scratched.

    I would prefer, if it's really neccessary, to call it one of: "Neo-Steed", "Steed-C" (for "cockpit"), "Alt-Steed" or "Steed Kai". Or the "original" a "Steed Zero".
     
    Not in Person said:
    I feel no particular kinship with that quest or it's protagonist. Not even with Battletech, despite the fact that Battletech as a setting does look kind of nice on the surface, which I barely scratched.

    I would prefer, if it's really neccessary, to call it one of: "Neo-Steed", "Steed-C" (for "cockpit"), "Alt-Steed" or "Steed Kai". Or the "original" a "Steed Zero".
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    That's fine. BT isn't for everyone. I was actually referring more to the name of the Steed Pilot Suit. We could call that the Pilot Hawk suit, The Cyclone Power Armor from Robotech, There's a lot of good PA names out there that can be used for this situation. The Cyclone PA from Robotech might just be a better name since I think the team in Robotech wears the Power Armor while piloting their Veritech fighters.
     
    Not in Person said:
    "Steed-C" (for "cockpit")
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    If anything, I'd go with this. They are, for all practical purposes, still Steeds, so we have no reason to not call them Steeds. As I said, the most we'd need to do is give them a subdesignation to indicate that they're a variant intended to serve as cockpits for larger machines.

    I mean, why would we need 20 different names for what's basically the same thing?
     
    I can get behind the Steed-C variants for cockpit models.

    I was just pondering because it seems like while there'd be a minuscule difference between piloted/unpiloted Phalanxes or Jackals, the difference between piloted/unpiloted Steed models would be more noticeable, like comparing an Iron Man suit to a Hammer drone. Then again, the Iron Man suits can be completely autonomous...

    Interesting how we designed the Steed as a mere part of a package deal with the IS, almost off-handedly, and yet it's become almost ubiquitous as our first and currently only person-sized mecha, used in everything from combat to everyday engineering maintenance (If the engineering models have most of the transforming functions removed and are basically power loader exoskeletons, I'm calling that variant Steed-L).

    Note to self: arrange training scene between C-Crystal-empowered K-Suit and Steed armor.
     
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    A New Armsrace
  • Sidestory
    • This takes place in parallel with January - Year Four's Defense Force results.

    1200, 15 January A.D. 2073
    McChord Air Force Base

    To anyone who's lived in the Pacific Northwest of the North American District, they typically bear their regional weather stereotype with good grace - that it's always raining in some shape or form all of the time. It's not entirely true - the summers can actually be quite lovely, or even brutally hot - but the stereotype of constant rain always has a kernel of truth to it. It might not be classical downpours, but constant drizzles and overcast skies unsuited for flying was always a constant concern.

    Today was one of those days. And George Armistead just sighed wistfully as he stared up at the gray overcast from his office, watching some of the ungainly Stork-class dropships cutting their way through the skies regardless of the crappy weather. A small part of him itched to just say 'screw it,' throw on a flight jacket and just go. It'd been years since he'd been allowed into the canopy and to tear hell through the skies, giving shit to Bobby Lee, Viktor, Pierre and so many other names that have almost begun to fade into memory.

    And he'd never hear the end of it from his staff if he tried. He could still hear Haruko admonishing him, in her polite way, about being reckless. He supposed she was doing quite well with Devin's operation now.

    It was at that thought of his former aide that he tilted his head slightly - and something in the reflection of the window caught a figure standing in front of his desk that wasn't there before. "Here to check on me, are you?" he asked conversationally. Rolling his eyes at the silent treatment, his foot kicked off at one of the wheels of the plush leather chair and spun around to meet his new guest. "Please tell me you at least didn't leave a mess this time," George grumbled, "there's only so many times I can calm the provosts down."

    The man looked painfully nondescript. A sharp business suit and red tie, with an equally bland face that could have fit in just about anywhere in a suburban bus or urban metro. A gunmetal gray briefcase was in his right hand, carrying god only knew what this time. "I might have knocked a few unconscious," the man said. His voice was deep, yet quiet. "They'll live."

    George just sighed, knowing that was about as generous as Koenig's agent was as likely to get. "Drink?" he offered, even knowing it was going to be refused. When he was inevitably turned down, George grabbed a glass, placed a few ice cubes inside, and poured some scotch inside. "So." He sipped at the glass - good scotch was meant to be respectfully sampled, after all - and stared at the agent as he sat down. "What do I owe the pleasure of your visit this time?"

    "Not the usual complaints," came the surprising answer. "Not this time." The man opened his briefcase, and withdrew a few plain folders. "Our benefactor is aware that there are...changes coming around the corner. And he's asking for your insight."

    George translated the 'request' into plain speak as he opened the folders, and it was painfully clear what the new focus was on. The pictures painted it all out for him.

    Mercury V. Valiant. Beowulf - his lips curled up into a slight self-deprecating smirk. Even a very, very grainy and low-resolution picture of what appeared to be one of the Kausen.

    And one more picture, of an almost skeletal robot being given metal flesh.


    "One more step." Lenora Jenkins nodded in grim satisfaction as she saw the giant monstrosity move.

    Giving truth to her words, the robot took another tentative step. A large section of the base had been sectioned off, a former artillery park being reshaped into a slight imitation of Devin's Proving Grounds. Large enough to move around in a giant sandbox, tough enough to take the occasional explosion, and remote enough to ensure no one got hurt (physically anyway) if something went wrong.

    "Leg joints're holdin' steady," Neer reported out from his end. Tilting his helmet back into place, the man's face broke into a wide grin at what he was seeing. "Phil, you seein' this!?" A jubilant muffled sound, followed by a hand raising a thumbs up served as the response. "Anti-Grav's workin' like a beaut. Al? Victor?"

    "It walks." The self-satisfaction from the engineer could have been felt all the way back from his homeland. "It walks. It runs. It crouches." Schemming was rubbing his hands together in glee, a certain glint in his eye gleaming even as some parts of the joints were reading amber rather than green. "The nanites are forming around them perfectly!"

    Forge was not saying anything - he and Zhang were quietly conversing as they studied the Fulgur Generator's output ratios. Yet despite the intense energy demands of the nanites, the Fulgur Particles were not only capable of supplying that demand, there was even surplus if Lenora was reading those screens right - especially now that it wasn't being tasked with overcommitting power due to weight considerations.

    "This is Weller." The pilot's voice sounded steady, even with the pressure of direct exposure to the Fulgur Particles. "Rodenko and Smythe had an idea. Permission to engage the Fulgur Generator?"

    Lenora glanced over at Zhang, the quiet question of 'is it relatively safe?' passing through her gaze. Zhang's head nodded back - because of course it did. "Permission granted, Weller," she replied. "But keep it small scale. Baby steps."

    "Roger that!" She was already starting to regret her choice, given the slightly...manic undertone Weller's reply carried. Yet before she could countermand it -

    - blood red light emerged violently from the robot, its hand reaching outwards and upwards towards the sun as Polymorph Nanites swirled around its cylindrical forearms like a tornado. The hand itself seemed to disappear, joining the swirling nanites as they reformed into -

    "- Fulgur-One. I said baby steps. A giant drill isn't a baby step!"

    Fulgur-One's new forearm simply screeched to life in response, mingling perfectly with the almost cackling trio of laughter she could hear over the radio.


    Pak raised an eyebrow at the latest...monstrosity taking shape before him.

    "Look at it," a giggling voice cried out. "Look at it!"

    "I very much am, Yuan, thank you for repeating yourself," Pak replied sardonically. "...but what is it?"

    "Proof." The old monster's face was lit up with so much glee that Pak was slightly concerned that he might just walk off a catwalk without noticing. "Proof that the slumps are finished. So much...inspiration."

    Gone were the ramshackle, improvised parts of before. The latest creation in Yuan's workshop was a solid humanoid mass, easily towering over the standard suburban house. Regularized - no, standardized even - armor plating adorned its figure. Finger joints spread out, before clenching together back into a fist. Wheels beneath its feet spinned to life, before coming back to rest. And a single, boxy camera 'eye' glanced over at them, before staring back forward as if they were nothing of interest.

    "We will have so many of my children to spread my genius," Yuan said. A now serene - if momentary smile - crossed his wrinkled face. "The Union will know. They will know. You'll make sure, won't you?"

    "Oh, trust me." Pak's face held a matching smile, even as his eyes beneath his glasses were imagining the credits. "I know plenty of people who will make it known."


    "Has it ever occurred to you that you all have an overreach problem?" George asked conversationally as he held the Fulgur's photograph in his hand. Tapping it against his desk, he added, "You have all this coverage, all of these agents - me included, for what it's worth - and for what? The Union was going to build these sooner or later, and it looks like you're struggling to keep up now."

    "Yet you sponsored them." The agent didn't rise to George's bait - but he did riposte rather neatly.

    "So I did," he admitted readily. "And if I hadn't, I'd have no visibility over it and you'd be talking to someone else." And leaving me alone, he added sourly, even if he knew that wouldn't be entirely true. Taking the man's slight nod as his cue to keep going, he pressed on. "They're known, and they're consolidated. A lot of combat power, but with enough of a strike, you could theoretically take them all down in one go."

    The agent remained silent for a moment - perhaps it wasn't the best idea to remind them of what cost Koenig Warlord, however indirectly.

    "It's not going to end either." As the agent's eyes narrowed slightly, George's hand was already spreading out the Valiant and Mercury's photos onto the desk. "They'd already gotten started years ago - the DFRI is just validation to them now."


    "You sure about this, Doc?" Daichi asked.

    Rin nodded. "I am." The blueprints set between them were ambitious, to be sure. But... "We have more funding from the Union now - and especially more from the Japanese government. Sheol won't be content to keep to his usual templates, he will bring something new to destroy Mercury. We have to be ready for it, and now is the best time - the only time - we have."

    He would refuse to admit to anyone that his discussions with Sam had anything to do with this. But despite the fact that K-Class on its own was relatively harmless to the user...he could not bring himself to use anything made of George Sheol's creations. He wouldn't begrudge Diana's comrades for using them - but they were not his tools. The Aeon Particles, Tritonium alloy, Hiroki's solid fighting style - they would be what this new foundation would be built on.

    His father had envisioned a 'Grand' Mercury once, but the technology simply wasn't there. Mercury V was Rin's own attempt to match up to that design, and it fell short despite Hiroki's successes. Now Grand Mercury would be in reach.

    And even if Mercury V struggled, he knew - they all did - that they weren't alone anymore.


    "Took your bloody time with it, didn't you, Dinym?" Charles Mander looked over the design blueprints the eccentric scientist presented to him.

    "I did, Charlie." The man's voice matched his appearance - slow, ponderous, and deliberate. Dr. Marcus Dinym was a thin, almost lanky man who looked as if a stiff breeze would knock him over onto his arse, and his gray beard would just be a sail that carried him further down the road. Yet behind those industrial strength bifocals was the sharpest tool in Charles' shed, one who had come up with the expensive design that had made Valiant possible. And now here he was coming up with something new. "I need those parts. Nothing else will do."

    "...Marcus, dear boy." Charles' eyes widened fractionally at - how many zeroes was that? "I'm not normally made of stone, but this is a bit much out of the kitty, isn't it?"

    "If you want Valiant to be more effective, nothing is."

    "...point." Yet as he looked over the design - and the invoice - a random thought crossed his mind. "...suppose I put you in touch with the boffins over across the pond," he wondered.


    "What you have here is a new armsrace now." George set aside his now empty glass as he stared at Koenig's hatchet man. "You're going to see more of this now that there's enough proof that some of this weird Mad Science stuff works-"

    For some reason, both he and the agent paused, cocking their heads slightly as if they heard someone screaming something in some other part of the world. Weird.

    "-that it's not going to stop. Hell, I don't doubt your own guys are coming up with something." Reaching into his desk and unlocking it via biometrics, he pulled out various pictures of his own, showing the new configurating walkers other Defense Forces units were seeing. "You already are for God's sake!"

    "We need access." The agent brushed past all of George's words, even if he had no doubt they were being filed for future reference on whatever case file they had on him. "Your efforts to stymie them politically have failed."

    "I barely have visibility over the Fulgur project, and I've made myself enough of a public asshole to give Devin PTSD over even thinking about me so I'm not exactly welcomed at the DFRI either." And he'd been amused to see that his little trick giving the young man that drive had been greeted with all the paranoia it deserved. Glaring openly at the agent, George sighed. "Look. If Burr is coming up with some plan of attack, I have enough stupid and rich idiots transferred here that would love to 'die for the cause.'" His voice could have painted the quotation marks onto a typecaster. "You need disposable assets? Have him cut me in on it for manpower."

    "We will take that into consideration." The man nodded in grim satisfaction, giving George no doubt that he'd be hearing from this group again. "Thank you, General. We will be in touch."

    "Don't let the door hit you on the way out."

    George turned around to stare back at the sky - only to be greeted with dark storm clouds blackening the sky. A bolt of lightning crossed the sky, a momentary jagged line tearing through before the crackling thunder echoed from the heavenly display. There would be no more flying today.

    A damned shame, George thought. After that meeting, he was all but considering making a break for it anyway. Even one of those V-33s, weird ass construction as it was...
     
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  • Sidestory
    • well now that's interesting. I wonder just how deep that bastard is now. And just how badly he wants out of it. well we at least suspect that Koenig is a member of the Westphalians group.
     
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