Whackbot

Mech Pilot who sighs as they realize that the Kobolds are probably going to be the best workshop to fix this.

Mech Pilot who never takes the helmet off for pictures.

"...Okay, the paparrazi I get, but do you HAVE to come into the showers with that thing on?"

"Being one of Mars' Finest means I gotta keep a low profile. Who knows what kind of freaks are waiting to blackmail me?"

"Joey, you look like an asshole wearing that thing! Ain't it gunna rust or something?"

Joey Mars taps his helmet.

"Nah. This baby's meant to keep me going for a full hour in deep space. A little water's not gunna hurt me."

"Well, seeing you naked's hurting me."

"Can't be that bad - your mom seems to like the 'Helmet only' look!"

"This fuckin' guy..."

Mech Pilot who found something bigger, faster, and more slobbery to work with.

Mech Pilot who sends you a short wave message before retreat: “this ain’t over -”

Captain Gene Sullivan always wanted to a take a vacation on Mars. A Planet in mid Terra-formation was like a butterfly freeing itself from its chrysalis, at least to him. One day, he would be hoping to take a trip to the Olympus Mons, and take a look at the stars. To his credit, he got to see it much earlier. Sadly, instead of an appreciative landmark, it was the backdrop to an unpleasant evening.

"Red Rider," Announced Gene from his Unmarked Mech. "I've alerted my squad, and they're on the way! Come quietly!!"

Sullivan knew from basic training to 'Speak from your chest' - it always made you loud and sound convincing. He was praying that it made his bluff convincing. An off duty patrol led to a sudden dogfight when the Red Rider was spotted in Mars' atmosphere. Whatever he was carrying was valuable enough for Rider to retaliate when called out. Thus, the senior Captain was praying that Rider took the bait.

The Icarus was a model meant for reconnaissance and scouting, so its combat ability was not as robust as a Federation Mech. Such a fact didn't seem to faze the pilot of the Red Machine; His mech had suffered noticeable damages, while Sullivan was getting warning signs about Hull breaches, as well as a full arm missing. The only leverage he truly had was that his Antimatter Rifle was still in his hand, and it was protectively curled over a curious black box that the Red Rider previously had.

It was foolish for Sullivan to run into this skirmish on his own. He didn't have any intel on this guy, and wasn't sure if the Pilot was even human. Despite the reprimanding he was sure to suffer in the near future, something within Sullivan ordered him to take the plunge, and make an attempt to stop this rogue. No one else would.

A sudden notification on his comms appeared: A text message from an unknown source. Broken out of his sense of Justice, The Captain looked between the notification, and the Red Rider standing idly before him. The sweat on his face became colder as he had a good idea who it was. He opens it up to see what it said.

"Pretty bold, Old man. Enjoy your reward. Don't worry, though; This game of tag ain't over yet."

The proximity alarms blared, making Sullivan minimize the message. A line of Pipebombs were floating toward his way. With his engines at risk from damage, a proper defensive maneuver would put him in the red. He brought up his rifle, and fired, bracing from the explosive kickback. Expletives added to the shower of explosions that bounced Sullivan off the surface of Olympus Mons. The tumbling continued until hitting an abrupt stop after hitting a flat plateau of the large Mountain. Now, lying on the ground of Mars, Sullivan looks up at the red sky, with the Rider nowhere to be seen.

The scent and taste of blood kept the Captain conscious as he held up the Black Box to inspect it. Surprisingly, it was only slightly scuffed compared to his machine...Figures. Sullivan groans, mentally preparing for that vacation. He had a feeling the Federation would make a strong argument for a momentary leave.