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The Haunted Titan

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About

WIP I’m tired.

Welcome to the Interstellar Manufacturing Corporation database! Please select a file.

History

Deployments

Personnel Records

[ Titan Database ]

Weapons RnD

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The Haunted Titan-[BIC]Welcome to the Interstellar Manufacturing Corporation database! Please select a file.

[I]  History
Modified Northstar Chassis

Titan Information

Serial Number

- OS-4550

Nickname

- The Haunted Titan

Titan Chassis

- Northstar

Pilot

- Deadeye

Titan Loadout

Primary

The Haunted Titan-[BIC]Welcome to the Interstellar Manufacturing Corporation database! Please select a file.

[I]  History
Modified Plasma Railgun

Utility

- Sonar Lock

- VTOL Hover

Defensive

- Vortex Shield

Titan Core

- Flight Core

Kit 1

- Counter Ready

Kit 2

- Survival of the Fittest

- Piercing Shot

- Threat Optics

Titanfall Kit

- Warp Fall

Modifications

- Enhanced stabilizing thrusters for efficient take off and steady hovering capabilities.

- Parts and utilities borrowed from other titans to allow for a more versatile combat scenarios

Titan Backstory

OS-4550 was manufactured by a hand selected group of Titan engineers from Hammond Robotics. Details and other aspects, including add-ons and swapped parts were built in at the guidance and critiques of none other than Pilots from the Scout Specialist regiment themselves. With scout Pilots generally operating on foot to minimize detection, OS-4550 is equipped with an enhanced version of the already perfected Vanguard Class Militia Titan AI. This gave it its nickname, for not truly needing a pilot to operate. Similar to a reaper, but more sentient.

Titan Personally

OS-4550 is intended to operate with pathological tendencies, taught by Deadeye to pick and choose targets for an enhanced tactical fear factor. Especially when engaging areas with multiple threats. OS-4550 has also learned to toy with its prey by…

”…Developing a fucking humor?”

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History

Deployments

[ Personnel Records ]

Titan Database

Weapons RnD

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Personnel Records: Pilot Deadeye, OS-4550, heads up display simulation

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ing data analysis…

April 16th, 2735…

Planet: Estoveria, Capitol City

Fireworks burst in the air, decorating the dark-purple sky with vibrant reds, greens, yellows, and blues. The cityscape was brimming with lights. Glowing a gleeful aura as word of peace spread about the ongoing Frontier Militia-IMC war.

In the shadows loomed a black figure perched at the top of a tall skyscraper, peering down at the night life of Capitol City. As a firework shot into the air, a big flash of turquoise brightened the area for a just a moment, revealing a crouched pilot. Black boots fixed with a dark forest green accent. A matching set of military grade tactical gear dressing the rest of the pilots torso. A glowing blue visor illuminating the black helmet, surveying the terrain.

”OS. See anything?” The pilots voice muttered over comms, trying to keep quiet, despite the loud fireworks already masking his tone.

”Affirmative, pilot Deadeye. 16 confirmed armed personnel on the level above. Militia Ambassador confirmed.” The robotic, deep, and raspy voice. OS-4550 was about 722 meters from the City, hovering in the air — over water, and remaining almost completely stationary. Aiming down sights and pointing its rifle at the very building Deadeye was perched on top of.

”How you figure.”

”More targets, more guards protecting primary target.” OS-4550 justifies.

”Time to get to work.” Deadeye had said as he slowly stood up, wrapping his hand around the handle of his Mozambique and drawing it. His other hand reached for his utility belt, grabbing an arc grenade.

Deadeye turned his head, looking over his shoulder to catch a power box in his field of view. Flicking the grande back towards him, Deadeye extended his arm to give the ball like object an elbow bump before catching it, pulling the pin with his thumb, and chucking it at the power box. The power goes out.

”Pilot. Four bogies moving to pursuit.” OS-4550 informed.

”Heard.”

Deadeye, heard thumping come from the stairs that connected the open area he was located at — to the floor above. Immediately he’d unsheathed a pulse blade from his hip and throw it at the first figure that came within eyeshot.

A body dropped and a wave of yellow light emitted from the blade, highlighting the other three guards on his heads up display.

Bang! Bang!

Two bullets rang and two more bodies collapsed. Deadeye slid to the guard he took out with his pulse blade, yanking it out and stabbing the last guard in the achilles.

The guard fell to one knee, yelling in pain before being silenced with a slice to the neck. Blood gargling in his mouth before drowning in it. Back against the floor.

”Status?” Deadeye called

”Up the stairs and to the left are five more target.” A firework blew in the distance, but just as the rocket exploded into a colorful bash of glowing hues, a round from OS-4550’s railgun blasted through the giant living room window, taking out two perfectly lined up targets, “Three.” OS-4550 called out, having masked his gunfire with the fireworks on display.

Deadeye was already up the stairs, and in a gunfight with the other three guards. To no one’s surprise but their own, two bodies added to the number of casualties.

“Hmph…” Deadeye grunted as he watched the last one in the room groveling on the floor and reaching to grab at his ankles.

The flashes of lighted outside the shattered windows illuminated the room for a brief moment, showing the streak of blood the guard dragged along from behind a couch. In an act of pity, Deadeye raised his Mozambique at the guard, ready to pull the trigger.

Suddenly a firework bursted just outside, and a massive high caliber round wizzed through the air, and the already shattered window, striking the injured guard in the body. The man’s upper half vanishing, leaving behind a misty spray of blood.

”OS.” Deadeye said in an irritated tone, wiping blood from his visor.

”Mm, mm, mm…” OS-4550 let out a very android attempt at a laugh.

”Wh-…” Deadeye was rightfully taken aback, shaking his head, “Are you developing a fucking humor? Sick fuck.” He retorted before pressing onwards.

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Template made by Pilot John . If you delete this, you will stub your toe in the middle of the night.

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