Quick disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters. This is meant to simply be an homage to the fabulous people who create and put on Death From Above every week. Be sure to check out twitch.tv/hyperrpg on Fridays at 6PM PST to see more.
He hated ejecting. Not so much the violence of the action, the rush of air and G-force as the pod rocketed out of the Dragon, but the insult of it. The fact that he had to watch as several missiles slammed into the center torso of the Dragon, his Dragon, from high above where he couldn’t do anything about it made Talon fume.
As the pod came to earth and the door popped open, Talon fairly launched himself out and onto the ground before him. Drawing his blade, he turned and scanned his surroundings for the enemy forces. He could still see the Marauders, Coryphee, Val, and Sokolov, giving as good as they got, and not too far off in the distance he could see the shadow of what remained of the Awesome Dragon. The last original piece, the engine, now destroyed and with it the remnants of his ancestral heritage. The Dragon still lived but its heart was gone.
“Your capture orders are no longer valid, Coryphee.” he muttered to himself as he took off at a run across the field. He hadn’t gone very far when the enemy Highlander landed in front of him. The external comms whined into activation and calling out over the battlefield, Talon heard the words “What is your teammate’s life worth to you, Coryphee?”
The implication was clear and to be honest, Talon was insulted. That this ponce of a mercenary actually thought that he was a token, a trophy, something to be bartered over, and the fact that he thought that Coryphee was the sort of mech warrior to take him up on the offer. Who the actual hell did this guy think Talon was?
Oh, please. Please. Just give me the chance to introduce myself properly, Talon thought as he brought his sword to bear in front of him.
“Talon, what do you want?” he heard Coryphee asking him. What did he want? He wanted his goddamned mech back. He wanted this mercenary to go back to wherever it was that he came from so they could all get back to the larger issues at hand. He wanted his lance to be left intact. He wanted this unbelievably frustrating and constraining political intrigue to cease so that they could go back to solving their problems with actions and not words that meant nothing. He wanted to be a warrior. He wanted to honor the dragon.
Now it was clear and there was nothing more to say. No fear, no second guessing, only the path set before him. And if this was the end, if death was ready for him at last, it would be a good death. A most honorable death, as Valravn would say, and what more could any Kuritan ask for?
“Talon?” Coryphee’s voice again.
“A Highlander on foot? I’ve been waiting for this.” Talon raised his blade and looked straight ahead, “Coryphee do not move your position, at all.”
He would not look away, he would not flinch. He would stand like the dragon he was and face what was coming. The Highlander powered up the lasers and aimed at him. From the comms he heard the words, “Forgive me.”
The lasers fired and came slamming into the ground on either side of him. Talon took off running, blade out. He reached the leg and leapt straight up, grabbing on and beginning to climb. The mech moved, seemingly to try and throw him off but it was no good. Gritting his teeth, Talon reached up and pulled himself closer and closer to the cockpit doors. He had always wanted to take a Highlander in battle.