Walter was checking the most vital parts of his 'Mech before getting ready to walk out. The joints in the legs, the jump jets and the extra durable feet actuators and hardened exo-steel surrounding them. There was a certain pride to be had in maintaining the lower half of a Highlander. The thighs of his particular one were marked all over with small white lightning bolts. Death from above, Highlander Burials, whatever you called them, he had never met an enemy who expected the 90 ton monster to come flying through the air and planting its feet firmly through their cockpits. MacLeod had squashed enough bugs in its days. Some of the marks had been faded but present when he inherited the thing. He turned to Maho as she approached and nodded a greeting before he got back to checking the legs, listening all the while to what she had to say.<br/><br/>"I wasn't a morning person back in the days either. But after you get your first lancemate killed because you weren't cautious enough in an urban environment, you start to appreciate the early evenings." He said it half joking, half seriously. He hadn't gotten anyone killed, just seriously wounded. Being swarmed by a full lance of Centurions in the tight alleys of a mega-city was on the bottom list of his achievements. Perhaps he could have seen it coming had he not screwed one of the shapely mechanics the night before. He sure as hell didn't pre-op-screw anymore after that. At least not until 0300 in the morning.<br/><br/>"It does sound like the plan if my ears don't deceive me. I'd rather have you on the building than over it though. You are a piloting a 'Mech, not a high-precision bomber. Jump up on it, find some vent to drop it down and blast off from there. Once that is done and the turrets are down, regroup with us and help check the hangars."<br/><br/>He climbed up on the head of his Highlander without a word, marking that as the end of the discussion. He sat in the hatch and undressed, letting the thinner jumpsuit slide down the hatch. He took a few deep breaths of the cool mountain air in his nude before he brought up his MechWarrior-tux. It was an old thing, probably as old as the Highlander itself. There was a faded SLDF patch on the left sleeve and an equally faded name-patch with T.DUNCAN printed on it. It was heavily padded in a diamond pattern, which would have been unbearable if not for the excellent cooling-vest that came with it. The Star League had certainly known their things back in the days. It was like having a personal double heat-sink. Once in the suit he slid down into the cockpit and closed the hatch, pulling the neurohelmet out of its slot behind his seat and planting it firmly ove his head and shoulders. It was a bit unwieldy, but the tech inside was superb. It made the 'Mech an extension of himself, his balance such that he had once run across a slim aqueduct in hard wind without even wobbling a little. As he clasped the helmet to his suit he could hear the soft humming of the 'Mech's spirit coursing through him. He looked left and right, shook the legs of the 'Mech a bit and tried a little jump on the spot. As he landed again a voice echoed through his mind.<br/><br/>"<span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: impact;">Authorization required.</span>"<br/><br/>"Just quit bitchin', Betty..."<br/><br/>"<span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: impact;">Authorization acquired. Warning, shutting down voiced feedback systems.</span>"<br/><br/>Walter sighed in relief. The synthesized voice was just a nuisance to him. It usually delivered its reports a second or two after he had already noticed whatever was wrong. He wasn't sure if it was the helmet or some sort of system in the 'Mech itself, but he had a sort of sixth sense once he got plugged in. Which was why he had opted to program the Betty to shut down as soon as authorization was over with. He opened all channels and sent a ping signal before switching to the Lance-channel.<br/><br/>"Time to go ladies, he are heading for the coordinates I'm sending you right now. Fan out and keep your eyes peeled."<br/><br/>He changed channels again and sent a ping to Bastion as well. He got a bit surprised as he got a response.<br/><br/>"<em>About time you reported in, Walter.</em>"<br/><br/>"That's my line, Bastion. Where did you go to?"<br/><br/>There was a bit of silence before he got the answer and it didn't calm him down one bit.<br/><br/>"<em>The whole planet has been jammed, Walt. There seems to be some kind of invasion going on. Perhaps the Kritas made their move and the FRR or House Steiner is responding in kind. At any rate I reckon we can finish the mission anyway and claim mute and deaf to get our reward anyway. Might as well help the war-effort, right?</em>"<br/><br/>The Highlander bounced through the terrain in long strides, slowed a bit by the thoughts racing through Walter's mind. He had never heard of a whole planet coming under comm-lock during an invasion. It was not technically possible to cover all the angles, all the channels. Unless they had uncovered some new Lostech to achieve it. Even so, this gave them a clear advantage over the garrison at the base.<br/><br/>"Very well. We continue as planned. I'll call you in as soon as we are done. MacLeod out."<br/><br/>Once again he switched channels, this time to the Lance-leaders.<br/><br/>"Mission is clear, Bastion just called in. Seems the Steiners got tired of waiting, they have launched an invasion and shadowed the whole planet's comms. I'd say we got a couple of hours before they wise up to it. We take that base out and we'll have saved the invasion a bombing-run or two."