Author Topic: Ghosts of the Dead (a Ngo/BTSD AU-story by blacktigeractual and Cannonshop)  (Read 2825 times)

Trace Coburn

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[[Posted by Cannonshop, 11-06-2010, 21:34:50]]


3 KM southeast of Brigham Young Village....

Sgt. Moshe Dayyan watched the Regency Militia fall for a stunt that he, Scott, and even Kat thought they had to be too smart to fall for.

"Wait for it...are they stupid?" he muttered, and then, he got his answer- the lead 'mech stopped right on top of the buried silo doors.

"Open it up." he said.

The 'mechwarrior's sensors alerted him or her to the movement-a hair slow.  The Rampage dropped down the hole in an instant, as the first pass by fighters slashed overhead.

"Hey, Leutenant, did we order up an airstrike?" Moshe asked over the unit comms.

"Um...no, I don't think so, Sargeant."  Scott's response sounded puzzled and slightly alarmed, as a flight of six SB-27 Sabres wagon-wheeled almost directly on top of the Regency's mechanized formations, slashing down with lasers and iron bombs.

"Well...who the ****** ordered it?" He inquired, "I sure as hell didn't-"

"Tiger Thirteen Ace, this is Coast Guard Four-One-Alpha, requesting entry into the net, Authentication Victor Zulu India, Over." the accent was crisp-school trained english.

"Coast guard Four One Alpha, this is Tiger One Three Ace Actual, Authenticate Zulu Echo Delta."  Lt. McKenzie's voice over the common channel intoned.

"Tiger One Three Ace, this is Coast Guard Four One Alpha, I Authenticate Bravo Charlie Sierra to your Zulu Echo Delta."

"Welcome to the net, Four ONe, what is your chop, over?"  the Lt.'s voice asked.

"I make Five K North northeast of your current position, we ordered a Pizza by air, those are our birds, One Three Ace, Over."




Quote from: cklammer, 11-06-2010, 23:51:12
Ah, I just love it when everybody's comms are setup to work together. I love it more when everybody has the newest, current codes. I love it when everybody has the same codes ... :)

Quote from: Cannonshop, 12-06-2010, 08:56:29
  Remember that the Coast Guard was the first point of contact for the Tigers on arrival, and they're probably using SLDF standard crib-sheets...

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[[Posted by blacktigeractual, 20-06-2010, 14:15:09]]


…Arc-Royal, same day.

Justine Sinclair popped another kroppkakor dumpling in her mouth, munching on the pork filled potato dumpling she went over the PADD’s data.  The restaurant in Arc Royal’s newly invigorated Rasalhauge district, which had been dwindling since the formation of the FRR, but had begun to get bigger with that states gradual dissolution under the Clan Invasion.  Justine liked the food and the atmosphere so did many of the Kell Hounds and a fair number of the Tigers.  Bruce’s report of the coming offensive against the Regent on Kowloon was delivered with his usual brevity.

…so we’re gonna play bait and switch, then waste the Regent’s machines as quickly as possible.  Should be done in a week.  Data follows.

Sam agreed with his Gunslinger’s battle plan, but the Colonel believed in hedging his bets.  Thus Justine and her Hungry Tigers would take ship for Kowloon along with a company of the New York National Guard Mechanized Infantry, the destroyer Warspite and Gold Squadron’s Hammerheads.  Jackson Davion had been surprised at the level of the response.
But the Tigers take care of their own.  In this case their own was a certain psychotic little duchess.  To boot Sam wanted the matter on Kowloon done.  If the Tigers were going to pull off this Trial bullshit they’d need their Gunslinger and his merry little elves along with Liz Hazen.  The plan was based on the insight given to Justine by Katya and the other bondsman from Tamar and it was politics.

And that is my arena.

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[[Posted by blacktigeractual, 20-06-2010, 15:48:46]]


“This table taken?”  A pleasant contralto interrupted her thoughts.

“Baroness, of course, please sit down.”  The slender red haired woman sat across from her and nodded to the waitress.  Sandra Gilmour-Davion looked over her own PADD for a moment, then looked over at Justine.

“So you’ve signed off on this Trial of Possession business.”

“Pretty much…We’ll ship out for Kowloon and settle this business with the Regency, then go hit the Wolfies up for some meds.”

Sandra shook her head in amazement.  “Just like that?” She said wonderingly.

Justine swallowed another dumpling and nodded.  “Just like that.”

“I want in.”  Sandra said suddenly.

“With all due respect Baroness, while your record shows you’re a fine pilot…let me be candid…we are short on spare ‘mechs and your Colonial tech machine…”

“I own a MAD-2Rb-H Marauder, a Terran machine.”  She handed over her PADD.

“I’ve never heard of…”  LBX class 100mm autocannon, paired Extended Range 8cm’s riding side car over 5cm’s…  “A different design philosophy than ours, we’re really not in Kansas anymore.  How does she run.”

“Not bad for being in mothballs for a couple hundred years.  Misha Vinson’s checking Hussy out now.”

“Hussy?”

Sandra grinned.

[[Link MAD-2Rb:  [[Link broken during forum migration(s), and accordingly deleted by re-poster.  :(]] ]]

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[[Posted by blacktigeractual, 20-06-2010, 16:26:57]]


Kowloon…

A spray of autocannon fire spat down the boulevard narrowly missing Hussy’s left side heat exchanger.  I sent a whip of a charged particle fire across the Regent’s machine.  Condit ducked down the street, but not before I saw the damage.  No more mister bang-bang.  The trail of 120mm shells in their cassettes showed me Condit knew it to.

Gonna be a little hot there Jimbo, no ack-ack to back your PPC’s up.

Switching to the private channel I had with Truk, I sent a burst of 6cm laser pulses to chase a squad of SRM toting infantry back under cover.  I really didn’t want to hit any of them, but damn it Hue was crawling with the little bastards; Truk’s marines had taken a shitload of them from behind.  The key was our own teams had worked into a position to ambush Jim Condit’s heat hog of a machine.

“T, Jimbo’s on his way ETA thirty seconds, and he’s running hot and Winchester ammo, shut his ass down.”

“We still taking him alive?”

“Yep, need his punk ass.”

Truk’s cursing brought a smile to my face as I stalked Hussy after my prey.




Quote from: Hadrian, 02-07-2010, 11:49:03
I really don't like the Lyrans.

Kowloon would have been much better as a member of the FWL.

Quote from: Jimmyray73, 02-07-2010, 16:48:59
As if the FWL doesn't have enough issues...

Quote from: Hadrian, 02-07-2010, 20:56:26
The Ngo's are important and powerful industrialists with their own personal and VERY loyal "personnel".  They're important to the Lyrans who aren't exactly weak or poor and this is with a level of mismanagement bordering on "removing your nose to spite your face".

The level of freedom allowed them in the FWL would make them MUCH more effective and practically a mainstay of the FWL.

Quote from: Jimmyray73, 03-07-2010, 14:51:12
And thus much less tragic, and less of a story...

Quote from: Cannonshop, 03-07-2010, 22:43:25
Honestly, the Ngos wouldn't work in a setting more attuned to their style of operation, the stories wouldn't be as exciting or interesting to write. (Dunno about reading...)

It's "Pink monkey effect"-without the clash of values, there's no real story there...

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[[Posted by blacktigeractual, 26-07-2010, 01:32:53]]


I staggered Hussy out of the rubble and flames.  Sweat stung in my eyes as the heat edged down from the red zone.  Stupid, stupid I thought.  Condit had just tried doing to me what I had Truk trying to do to him.  Get me all heated up then plaster me with infernos.

He'd added one simple refinement, he done dropped a building on me.

Red lights glared at me from Hussy's secondary screen.  A full third of my armor gone, right arm limp at my side the weapons in it useless.  Hussy's emotionless but oddly sexy voice sounded in the cockpit.

"B, I'm hurt, B, my arm…"

"I know girl, I know…just a little bit longer, I promise."

Great, now I'm hallucinating and my own 'Mech is talking to me…  Hussy's superior heat exchangers coped with the small patches of burning gel still coating her and soon the heat level dropped into the green.

Thank heaven for small favors, the rubble scraped most of that shit off.

A particle whip slashed at my ass and I spun to face Jim Condit's own battered machine.  Pulling on my triggers I sent both a gauss slug and a cyan lightning bolt down range.

His second shot was thrown off as the silvery streak of the railgun caught his left arm snapping it out to slam into the building. My own particle fire punched into his Marauder's oval torso snapping off one of his sensor arms.  Condit staggered back but snapped another bolt into my right leg, ripping off the last of the armor.  The dull chunk of another gauss slug being chambered was almost lost in the din, so deafening through the cockpit that if I hadn't been wearing a neurohelmet I'd have been deafened.

My slug punched clean through the heat exchanger above his right shoulder to tear it and the useless autocannon clean off.  It didn't prevent him from lashing both of his particle cannons at once over Hussy's much abused torso.  The explosion of green smoke and fluid signaled the death of a heat sink and a sudden shudder and high pitched whine spoke of damage to my gyro.  The whoosh of a half dozen rockets from the building above me made my heart skip.

Sorry kiddo, I guess I go before you.  I willed a silent apology to Liz Ngo.

The rockets however were aimed at Condit.  They split open just before impact spreading burning gel all over the other 'Mech.  A "Mech already in the red.  With at least five heat sinks shot away and dealing with the alpha strike there at the end, Jim Condit's battered "Mech gave up the ghost.  As it toppled forward he ejected, the cockpit's panels blowing his path clear of the firey goop.  As his chute sailed overhead in the direction of the park, I loped Hussy after him.

Truk's voice came over the TACNET then.

"Hey B?"

"Yeah?"

"Didn't your momma tell you not to let people drop buildings on your head?"

"Truk?"

"Yeah B?"

"Bite me."

Why the hell is it I get all the smartasses.

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[[Posted by Cannonshop, 26-07-2010, 18:58:51]]


Peace Park, Hue City...

Forty degrees Celsuis, and it felt icy and bracing after the incredible heat of the cockpit.

Not that Jim cared much-ejection hurts.

So does landing afterward, and he wasn't the young man he'd been in '28. 


"Good afternoon, Mister Condit."  the asian face looking over the sights was wrapped in an SLDF field uniform, and the Mauser 960 was no relic.  "I'd stay right there until Major Gilmour comes to collect your happy ass."




Quote from: Comedian, 28-07-2010, 10:08:50
Quote from: Cannonshop, 26-07-2010, 18:58:51
Peace Park, Hue City...

Forty degrees Celsuis, and it felt icy and bracing after the incredible heat of the cockpit.

Thats 104 °F. . If it was hotter in the Cockpit the Pilot has been cooked.

Quote from: Ajax_Wolf, 28-07-2010, 12:45:38
The human body without a cooling vest can handle temperatures as high as 130 F. Above that temperature, sweat evaporates so fast that it doesn't provide any cooling effect.

So I figure with the 'mech running in the red, plus the Infernos, Jimmy Boy's cockpit had to be atleast 160-170F. After being in the environment, 104 F would feel chilly.

Quote from: Steve Ronin, 01-08-2010, 17:33:05
just suffered thru several 100f+ days here in central VA.

110F is bearable, but miserable.
Staying hydrated is a must.

Gatorade must still be in business in 3025  :)

Quote from: Comedian, 01-08-2010, 20:19:31
You are correct. I had that disturbing pleasure a couple of times in Namibia and South Africa.
It is not really fun. Especially if you are trying to get work done.
Which is what a Pilot has to do.

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[[Posted by blacktigeractual, 30-08-2010, 17:17:43]]


Hussy, Truk reflected looked like a child’s toy that had won a fight with a trash compactor.  As Kei and Yuri rumbled up and took position to cover the small group of people in the clearing, the big battered Marauder, smoking from rents in its armor crouched on its back canted legs, bringing the machine’s cockpit closer to the ground.  The clamshell armor over the cockpit opened and Major Gilmour popped out like an unlikely elf.

“Well Jimbo, seems you’re in a bit of a bind here.  Keep this up and a lot of folks’ll get killed, or at least a lot more then already have anyway.”

“You want me to surrender then?”

“Yeah, pretty much I mean, you could continue to fight, hell you might even win against us. But what you’ve got left ain’t gonna be worth a can of beans…”  The younger man looked at him curiously a small smile on his face.

“You can’t tell me you wanted this to happen, I’ve got a read on you, a pretty good one, an honorable career for the most part, service to the state…hell they made you regent of a whole world, man.”

Jim Condit looked around; he couldn’t concentrate on the Terran’s face.  A squad of Tiger infantry slipped into view herding a group of fifteen or twenty of Condit’s milz.  A young infantry man caught his eye…Peter McKinney, just turned nineteen.

Turning back to the Major he asked, already knowing the answer; “What happens to my men?”

Following Condit’s gaze, Major Gilmour nodded.  “The ones who weren’t involved in any atrocities will probably end up reassigned.”  He shrugged.  “The rest?”  The Tigers’ Gunslinger spread his hands.

The Regent of Kowloon reached for the offered comlink and performed his last act for the Archon.

Chapter 4 Cleaning up the shit
…all units Kowloon Planetary Militia, this is Regent James Condit.  Stand down, I repeat, stand down.  All units hold in place and fire in self defense only until relived by elements of the 90th Heavy Assault Regiment.  We have surrendered…It’s over.”
Broadband surrender transmission, Kowloon

Justine Sinclair looked around in annoyance.  I stifled a grin. All dressed up and nowhere to go, eh Sin.  The Hungry Tigers commander had come expecting a hot drop and a stiff fight.  She didn’t get one and now she was grousing about it.

Talk about fightus interruptus.

Jim Condit had been the one to end most of it peacefully, although some of the partisans had tested the limits of the Milz definition of self defense.  He was in the brig aboard the Cat’s Eye.  It was the only place we could keep him safety.  Lizzie Ngo wanted him shot, but I convinced her of a trial a real one first.

I really wanted John Zazula’s engineering wizards here, but Sasha Vinson had them crawling all over the Kell’s factory on Arc-Royal.  Still using Sin’s troopers and Josh Harding’s New York Guards we were making progress with the reconstruction efforts.  Also having a battalion of heavy ‘mechs around really went a long way towards keeping everybody playing nice.

That and having Liz Hazen around worked out pretty good.  Her experience with being a partisan herself worked well with Justine’s spin doctoring.

Likewise having a destroyer in orbit wrecked the plans of the bandits Condit was sponsoring from escaping.

“Still haven’t heard from the Lyran’s?”  I asked.  Justine shook her head.

“Nope other than that they are sending someone, and to have the Duchess and Baroness Mosovich there when he arrives.  That and a personal request from the Archon to hold off on the trial until her representative gets here.”
I snorted.  “How’d Little Bit take it?”  I asked referring to Elizabeth Ngo.

“About like you’d expect, she just smiled but damn it Bruce that smile could cut glass, then she put putted out of there with that walk she has.”

“So have you met your great, great granddaughter yet?”

I groaned as Sin smiled devilishly.

Pat…pat…pat…pat

Gracie Liu closed her eyes and prayed for patience.  Bruce’s little surrogate Synthia could stress out the creator himself.  Pulling guard duty for the little nut job was supposed to be easy duty while her broken arm healed, helped by the nanites in her blood stream.  At least she mused this one wasn’t psychic like Bruce’s adopted daughter was.

It doesn’t help that Sandy Gilmour looks like a mix of Sarah, Bruce and Synthia.

Pat…pat…pat…silence.

“Gracie?”

“Yes your grace?”

“Is something wrong?”

“No your grace.”

“Just checking.”

Pat…pat…pat…pat.

Gods just shoot me now.

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[[Posted by blacktigeractual, 07-09-2010, 17:37:27]]


The AFFC DropShip landed on the tarmac.  The overpressure rattled the ferroglass of the shelter we stood in.  Didi and Truk took up position at the head of Liz Ngo’s honor guard. As the tarmac cooled, a tube extended and locked to the ship’s airlock.  A slender blonde man in an immaculate suit exited at the head of a team of faceless types that screamed spook from their suits to their sunglasses.

The group arrived at the head of the access way and the leader bowed formally to both the Duchess and Baroness Evvie Mosovich.

“Your Grace, I am Antonin Valery, special envoy of Archon Melissa Steiner, my bonafides.”  Valery handed an ident card to Didi Moran.

Slipping the card into her pocket comp she nodded at the verification.

The man introduced his aides and exchanged pleasantries with the noblewomen.  When the round of introductions got around to me, I got an uneasy feeling in my gut.  It wasn’t till later as we sat down to hammer out the induction of Evvie Mosovich as Regent and coordinate Lyran relief aid to Kowloon that it hit me.

The man was affable, pleasant even, but behind his eyes was an emptiness as if he was nothing more than a husk of a man.  He felt my gaze and returned it coolly.  I'm not a person who spooks easily.

Something was up, and I didn’t like being in the dark.


James Condit sat on the couch in his “cell” listening to the crowds hailing the end of his Regency.  Major Gilmour had kept him under house arrest in an apartment within the government complex.  It was better than he deserved.  It also gave him ample time to reflect.  In some ways it was worse than a jail cell.  His failure here meant somewhere down the line a debt would have to be paid.  Jim wondered if it was going to be in front of a Kowloonese firing squad or…

A bland looking man in a black suit stepped out from the kitchen.  Condit jumped up from his seat, opening his mouth to call the guards.  His voice died in his throat as the intruder shook his head and smiled.

Of course, the debt must be paid.

James Condit former regent of Kowloon in the name of the Federated Commonwealth nodded his understanding and sat back down on the couch.  Outside the celebrations went on into the night.




Quote from: Aceraptor, 07-09-2010, 22:03:56
Well there goes the chance to interrogate Condit.  #P

Quote from: Muttley, 08-09-2010, 03:53:35
Loki strikes again...

Quote from: lowrolling71, 09-09-2010, 19:59:34
Well wouldn't want any truth to come out now would we?

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[[Posted by Cannonshop, 10-09-2010, 22:29:45]]


"...do realize, Mister Valeri, that this has been going on for years?" Elizabeth piped up.  She met the man's dead eyes with her own.

she smelled cinammon, and the headache was getting worse.  keep a straight face-don't let them see...

"The damage from the extremely necessary actions taken to remove the Regent is only the tip of a fairly big iceberg." She added, "My father would have a lot to answer for what he let Jim Condit and his cronies do here-and there is a fair amount of culpability among the Federated Commonwealth as well-aren't Regencies supposed to have oversight?"

Didi could see something was wrong-for one thing, Liz was starting to...list, like a ship-like a drunk, when she'd clearly had nothing to drink.

"There must be an accounting." Elizabeth said, "I owe it, and so do YOU."

hold it together...

"Liz, um..."  Dee said quietly, catching her by the arm.

The girl was taut as a guitar string.

"yeah...long day, bid you good-day sir." Elizabeth said, "Not feeling well right now.."

They made it out of the meeting with the girl upright, down the corridor, and into a side room...

and then, she was shaking. 

the 'fit' was mild, but it was a definite precursor...




Quote from: Muttley, 11-09-2010, 02:05:18
That'll be in his report...

Quote from: lowrolling71, 15-09-2010, 21:45:32
Only if he doesn't have a terrible "accident" while crossing the street first.

Quote from: Mike DF, 24-09-2010, 04:18:43
Yeah...they won't be suspicious about a thing like that in any shape of form.  We all know how reasonable and forgiving Loki is.

Quote from: Taron Storm, 24-09-2010, 09:16:51
Wouldn't matter what Loki thinks, if something happens.  Do they really want to piss off the Tigers?

Quote from: Headshot, 25-09-2010, 10:53:32
Wouldn't be the first to make that mistake... 8)

Quote from: Taron Storm, 25-09-2010, 15:49:54
That old yarn about grabbing a tiger by the tail just popped into my head.  I don't think Loki realizes that this tiger is a hell of a lot smarter than they give them credit for.

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[[Posted by blacktigeractual, 17-10-2010, 18:36:55]]


Didi Moran handed me the report in silence.  I understood her anger, but there was nothing to be done.  The damage to Jim Condit’s nerve system was massive, no trace of the toxin would be found.  Even I could tell you half a dozen poisons that would dissolve into nothing after use.

Of course we know who was responsible…but even if we had proof…

I shook my head and blew out a breath.

The rapid pat, pat, pat of her footsteps heralded the arrival of Elizabeth Ngo.  I knew what was coming.

“Who killed him?” She spat.

“You know who, Liz, and you know why.  Pisses you off I know, you wanted a trial.”  I smiled bitterly.  “But that ain't gonna happen and you know that too.”

Whatever she was about to say never made it out of her mouth as she jerked as if slapped.  And just like that a wave of cool serene calm washed over her face.

“Pick my battles huh?”  She said.

“Yep.”  You don’t wanna mess with the Archon on this, she seems all sugar and spice and everything nice, but she’s still a house lord.  God knows I’ve got experience to burn in that area.

“Sooo…what’s with the confab?”

‘Rat answered from where he was lounging on my office’s couch.

“We’ve refitted and rested up; kid only one thing left to do…”

Simple words, hell kiddo knew we were gonna take a shot at the puppies, but her face fell just the same.

“So you’re just gonna go…”  She started.

I gave her my pirate smile and came around to lean my hip on the front of the desk.

“Justine and her battalion’ll be here.  She’s really good at the whole diplomacy thing, plus she can be a mean ass bitch when someone ****** with her…”  That at least got me a wan smile.  “And we’ll only be gone for a couple of months.”  I nodded to the rest of my crew and they filed out, Didi and ‘Rat giving me knowing looks.

“So,” I asked when the doorway closed, “what’s really wrong?”  I fixed her with a steady stare.

She was quiet for a long time, but raising Synthia had taught me loads of patience.  Finally she looked up at me with a wry grin.

“I guess I just got used to having you around…”

Reaching behind my desk I pulled out a bottle of Jameson and two glasses.  Pouring two fingers of whiskey in each I handed her one.  None of the meds she was on reacted badly with alcohol.

“You know you’re committing a crime right now.”  She said, looking at me like I had two heads.

I shrugged.  “Fine so if we find a cure with the Wolfies you can throw me in jail, but as it stands now…”

Liz laughed.  “As it stands right now I guess I’m middle aged.”  She raised her glass and clinked it against mine.

Taking a respectable slug she gasped out.  ******…how do you drink this shit?”

I raised an eyebrow; “Language young lady…language.”

Hey, you gotta have some rules!




Quote from: Hadrian, 18-10-2010, 11:32:31
If I was the Archon, I'd probably invade clan space myself and take the equipment then give it free of charge to the tigers.

Why you may ask!!! ???

The Tigers main problem is that though they can take on and beat practically any equal force in the inner sphere because of both their advanced tech and serious abilities, they are VASTLY outnumbered.

The clans have both advanced tech and superiour abilities.  They also have a tradition of "bondsman".

Would you give a unit like the Tigers access to a massive supply of advanced tech and troops that would come pre-trained and totally loyal to the Tigers (I've not seen any signs that clan bondsmen betray their captors).

That's a scary thought - The Black Tigers Clan - The best defence against them is NO defence since they won't attack civilians, the best attack is someone channelling Ghandi.  Be their ally and they WILL come to your aid at any cost but be their enemy and - well - since your obviously from the shallow end of the gene pool!, your imminent extiction improves the human race no end so carry on (but don't come to me for help, I'm a civilian now, didn't you know Wink.

Can you imagine sharing a border with them - you wouldn't need to defend it since you couldn't stop them even if they did attack which they wouldn't.  All these extra troops just became free to use on other fronts (just make sure it's a target that wont cause the tigers to look at you funny).

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[[Posted by blacktigeractual, 18-10-2010, 14:57:06]]

Chapter 5: The Setup
He either fears his fate too much,
Or his desserts are small,
Who dares not put it to the touch,
To win or lose it all.

James Graham, 5th Earl of Montrose
Sometimes you’ve just got to go all in.
Jackson Davion, Marshal AFFC

Hey Al, wuzzup?

So Isokoru got here today, he’s gonna set up a professional training program here on Kowloon.  Got a surprising turn out from the ex-AFFC milz boys and girls we caught.  Ernie Williams, that Hatchetman (Stupid ****** design.) pilot who tried to take my head off during the final push, explained it.

“We signed on to defend the Commonwealth, it’s time to actually do it.”

On the home front, Lizzie Ngo seems to work well with Justine, the two feed off of each other.  Justine’s diplomatic training and leadership experience balancing Elizabeth’s raw intellect and fervor.  Looks like we might just have a stable place to settle.  Not that the Kells’ haven’t been great hosts, but between us and the 26th Lyrans we were straining the Arc-Royal economy.  Misha’s team is gonna stay on for a bit to fix ‘em up to produce freezers.  Range and efficiency of their weapons aside, the biggest problem facing the FedComs is their lack of efficient heat exchangers, and that we can fix.

We’ll have to if we want resupply ourselves.

I’m putting together the team for the Wolf raid.  Seems the fuzzballs are setting up Tamar as their headquarters in the Inner Sphere, we’ve got reports of a massive build up of infrastructure and logistics. (Sigh) Still hate that we had to retreat from there…at least the Wolfies don’t abuse the civilian population.

Geoff Winger came in with, Isokoru; he’s the Hauptmann (Kommandant now.) who held the line with us when we first got here.  Marshal Corelli gave him leave to come join us.  Sam figures it’ll be good if we make this a united effort.  Between Katya, Geoff, and Garfield’s Elementals (What the Clanners call their Armored Infantry, he’s a big guy talks real slow…thinks really, really fast.) we’ve got what Katya calls a “Nova” of ‘Mechs and armored infantry plus two Stars of five ‘mechs each.

I’d wondered about the size of the unit, the fields of the war against Amaris were home to massed divisions and here we were going to challenge the Big Bad Wolf with a reinforced company.  Katya just smiled and told me that Natasha Kerensky, the Wolf Clan field commander we would be facing would be honor bound to match our forces.  This was after all an affair of honor, not total war.

It puzzles me at how Katya, Garfield and the rest of the former Clanfolk adhere to such strange rules of war, yet so readily adapt to life among the Tigers.

And then there is the matter of Sandy.  My great, great granddaughter is the final member of my team.  Great pilot, but damn annoying at times.  So confident of her invincibility, not even her field experience against the Capellans and Jade Falcons shook her.  And the mouth on her…

‘Rat and Didi had a good laugh about that, apparently she reminds them of me back before Acamar.  Shit, I was never that bad was I?

Nah, they just messin’ with me.

At least Jackson, who I think is my…cousin (?) keeps her in line.  He wants to go too but the High Command overruled him.  Anywhoo more training today, we’ve got to get used to having Armored Infantry riding on handholds we’ve rigged on our ‘Mechs.  (Yeah, I know right?)

Catch ya on the flip side, bro’

Bruce

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[[Posted by blacktigeractual, 18-10-2010, 15:45:50]]


“We should be destroying them in space!” Conal Ward snarled.  “Not treating them as equals in an honor duel, Natasha you go too far.”  The Crusader warrior turned to the assembled trueborns his face red.

“What care we holders of Kerensky’s vision if some spheroid, a Ngo to boot has some disease!  Cursed Kowloon should be dealt with as we deal with bandits, not coddled.”

A few of the assembled muttered darkly, but most seemed amused.  When the Terrans had issued their challenge, most to the Wolf commanders had issued challenges to Natasha’s troops for the right to face the 90th Heavy Assault’s Gunslinger.  Oddly Conal was the only one who took offense at the object of Terran’s challenge.  Doctors, medical and gene sequencing equipment and researchers.

The members of the scientist cast she’d spoken to had educated her on Cholman’s Syndrome.  Several of them seemed almost keen to be part of the isorla the Tigers would, if they won, receive.  But while several had what they considered promising theories, there was no magic bullet cure.

Natasha had told neither the Terrans, nor Conal.  Her troops had defeated all comers, and would be representing the Wolves.  Deception yes, but Natasha knew she had to be the one to meet the Tigers.  Not for any notions of glory or honor, but for something far more important.

Ulric and she had discussed the opportunity the Tigers provided the Warden cause.  The risk the loss of some medical resources represented was insignificant.  The rewards however…

Natasha just smiled and let Conal Ward drone on.




Quote from: Muttley, 18-10-2010, 17:17:24
Somebody loan Bruce a black marker for Conal....

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[[Posted by blacktigeractual, 26-10-2010, 16:50:01]]


A big bad battlecruiser traveling at .99c
Elliptical Orbit, New Dallas System
Present Day.


“Steve, we just got conformation on the data from Lyran space.”   The lean scar faced man in the crisp blue and grey of a dead empire collapsed in the chair across from his boss.

The muscular Eurasian man behind the cherry wood desk stretched and shook his long black hair out of its pony tail.  Reaching behind him he grabbed a bottle of Terran bourbon and a pair of glasses, pouring out two fingers in each glass.  As they both sipped at their drinks, the man called Steve went over the file.

His sudden laughter startled the other man; let’s just call him Greg.  Ohh crap, what is it now.  He thought, not that he regretted following his oldest friend on his epic, if mad quest…but sometimes the man could be annoying as hell.

“Malcolm’s boy, you remember Mal?”

Greg started to shake his head then paused.

“Shit, Mal Gilmour’s boy…but he died during the Second Succession War, only lasted that long ‘cause he had the same little bitty nanobots in his blood we do.”

Steve grinned, say what you want about the Terries but their medtech meant at eighty (real time, not the three hundred or so relativistic years) he looked in his early forties.

“Hmm, our friend on Mars is trying to involve the Gilmour kid and his pals…”

“What are you thinking?”

“The assets we have in place in the Sphere are too ideologically bound to appeal to the Black Tigers, or to anyone of Mal’s family.”

Steve called up the file marked Apollyon on his desktop.  Typing on the touch sensitive hologram he saved his alterations and hit send.

“Syn is done with her assignment in the Free Worlds League; let’s see what she can do.”

“You’re sending your daughter’s clone…”  That Steve’s daughter had been left behind on Terra had always bothered him, but the clone…in the twenty subjective years the plan had taken thus far, the clone had become her creator’s pride and joy.

Stefan Amaris smiled warmly.  Whatever these Terran’s story was, Mal’s son had raised Synthia Amaris as his own.  The Lord of a dead empire and master of a new one figured he owed the kid something.

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[[Posted by blacktigeractual, 26-10-2010, 17:22:02]]


Grand Hilton Arms Apartments
Atreus, Free Worlds League
A week later.

Synthia Amaris (Okay 2.0, but still…) stretched out on the silk sheets as she sipped her mimosa.  God, I hope I’ve earned some down time, the Plan is one thing, but is a little luxury too much to ask?

As if in response her PADD chimed from the night table and she blew out an exasperated sigh.  Reaching out she took the damnable machine and resisted the urge to toss it across the room.  After decoding the seemingly meaningless missive she chuckled.

It seems Leena Calloway; darling of the Free Worlds’ Solaris circuit is going on a trip to Kowloon.

Shrugging into a short robe she called Daniel Mainez, her personal assistant to set up the trip, then settled back to read the rest of the file.  Humming to herself, she smiled as she read about her target.

Now this should be fun…




Quote from: Muttley, 27-10-2010, 15:28:29
There are many copies, and they have a plan!

Quote from: Ajax_Wolf, 27-10-2010, 15:44:51
Quote from: blacktigeractual, 26-10-2010, 16:50:01
A big bad battlecruiser traveling at .99c
Elliptical Orbit, New Dallas System
Present Day.

That has gotta be one very interesting orbital path.

Quote from: Nikas_Zekeval, 27-10-2010, 17:36:13
And how viscous will the bidding and Trials be for the Clan and Warrior to have the honor of throwing the 'kitty litter of DOOM!' in front of it? >:D

Quote from: Cannonshop, 27-10-2010, 19:59:55
Could get sticky...damn sticky.  Looks like Synthia 2.0 is an assassination model, since there's only a couple people on Kowloon worth assassination...

Quote from: lowrolling71, 28-10-2010, 16:08:11
Well at least Loki is finally going to be educated on the art of killing.



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