Author Topic: Fragged (Ongoing Writings and an Index of Sigil's Works)  (Read 56610 times)

snakespinner

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Re: Fragged (Collected Short Stories and Orphaned Writings)
« Reply #60 on: 06 November 2015, 22:21:24 »
Even Sigil's ghost has a way with women. :D
I knew you couldn't resist the temptation. [cheers]
I wish I could get a good grip on reality, then I would choke it.
Growing old is inevitable,
Growing up is optional.
Watching TrueToaster create evil genius, priceless...everything else is just sub-par.

Shadow_Wraith

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Re: Fragged (Collected Short Stories and Orphaned Writings)
« Reply #61 on: 06 November 2015, 22:55:43 »
 [drool]  More!

Sigil

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Through a Mirror Dimly - Chapter 2
« Reply #62 on: 07 November 2015, 07:43:28 »
Chapter 2

Warrant Officer Raquel Stroud slowly opened her eyes.  The ‘Mech Hangar was slowly coming alive as various technicians and support personnel began the work of the day.  All around her the multitude of monitors ringing the command couch quietly displayed the status of the various sub-systems of the Clint that was wrapped around her. 

Disoriented, she glanced at the clock projected on the viewport.  The last thing she remembered was climbing into the cockpit.  She shuddered involuntarily as she recalled how the Clint had come alive under her and then trapped her into its cockpit.
That had been 23 minutes ago.

Shaking off her growing sense of unease, she reached towards the throttle.  Easing it up, the Clint moved easily out of its berth and in seconds she’d cleared the hangar.  Early morning sunlight filtered in through the polarized canopy as she took stock of the extensive control surfaces.  She was surprised to find both their placement and purpose intuitive. 

Before she could think about it, the words were out her mouth.  “Rose, raise Training Ground Command.”

Rose?  Who the hell was Rose?

Confused by her own actions, she had little time to think about them before a new voice entered the cockpit, a woman’s voice.  “Course plotted.  Communications established with Training Ground Command.  Opening the frequency now.”

“This is Leutnant Hillsack at Training Ground Command.  Please identify.  Over.”

Unconsciously, she adjusted the course of the Clint to follow the projected path towards the training grounds.  “This is Warrant Officer First Class Raquel Stroud.  Request permission to enter Training Ground Three for a full combat systems check.  Over.”

There was a long pause.  “We don’t have you on the schedule, Warrant Officer Stroud.  Please transmit your authorization.  Over.”

Again without thinking, she reached over to the communications console, watching in amazement as her own fingers typed in a series of commands that were both alien and yet familiar at the same time.

The surprised voice of Ground Command came back at her.  “Authorization confirmed, Warrant Officer Stroud.  You’re cleared to proceed to Training Ground Three for a full Class Five combat simulation.  It’s the Gauntlet.  Good luck.  I haven’t seen someone even come close to finishing that course in five years.  Out.”

Words issued from her mouth, seemingly without her permission.  “Proceeding there now.  Out.”

---

Captain Wihlem Vought watched as the Clint sped towards the entrance of the training ground.  Something was amiss.  A Class Five combat simulation?   He should have known about something like that days in advance.  Sure it was still a low-power simulation, but only their best cadets ever ran that. Most of their faculty, even those with combat experience, rarely tried it for fear of looking bad in front of the cadet core.  It was a headhunting simulation.  Identify and locate the enemy commander’s ‘Mech, disable or destroy it, and return to where you entered the field from. 
 
“Hillsack.  Pull up Warrant Officer Raquel Stroud’s profile.”

A few seconds later, Stroud’s dossier appeared on the primary display. 

Warrant Officer First Class Raquel Stroud

Born 3028. 

Two years MechWarrior training at the War College of Buena before transferring to the technical program.  Graduated with honors in 3050.  Immediately took a commission as a Sergeant with the 17th Donegal Guards under Leutnant-General Quitman Brown.  Shipped out to Jabuka.  Assigned commander of a BattleMech field repair team.  In December 3051, fought Clan Steel Viper’s Alpha Galaxy alongside the 19th Lyran Guards.  The 17th Donegal Guard took heavy losses but managed to withdraw from Jabuka.  The 19th Lyran Guards were destroyed.  Served four years.  Chose not to re-enlist.  Applied to Sanglamore Academy as a Full BattleMech Technician in 3055 and was hired as a Warrant Officer.  Promoted to Warrant Officer First Class in 3056.  Assigned command of Technical Support Team Three.

No violations.

Pay Band 4.


She wasn’t even a qualified MechWarrior.  “This is Captain Vought to Warrant Officer Stroud.  State the intent of this training run.  Over.”

An explanation sprung unbidden to her mind.  “This BattleMech is scheduled to be auctioned off, Captain.  This training run is to establish the condition of the unit prior to the sale.  Over.”

Captain Vought shook his head but the authorization was in the system.  Highly irregular, but everything appeared in order.
 
“You are cleared to proceed.  Please establish a simulation circuit and confirm all weapon systems are operating at low power.  Over.”

She punched a few buttons before answering, “Simulation circuit established.  Confirm weapons on low power.  Over and out.”

Captain Vought stared at the primary display, addressing no one in particular.  “This ought to be the shortest training run in history.”

---
« Last Edit: 09 November 2015, 16:08:48 by Sigil »

snakespinner

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Re: Fragged (Collected Short Stories and Orphaned Writings)
« Reply #63 on: 07 November 2015, 18:24:50 »
If only Captain Vought knew the truth.
I wonder what happens to Stroud when she beats the combat simulation with the highest score ever recorded. >:D :D O0
I wish I could get a good grip on reality, then I would choke it.
Growing old is inevitable,
Growing up is optional.
Watching TrueToaster create evil genius, priceless...everything else is just sub-par.

Taron Storm

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Re: Fragged (Collected Short Stories and Orphaned Writings)
« Reply #64 on: 07 November 2015, 19:24:01 »
rose needed a techwarrior to be used, not just a MechWarrior  :P

ckosacranoid

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Re: Fragged (Collected Short Stories and Orphaned Writings)
« Reply #65 on: 08 November 2015, 02:55:14 »
sigil is back and haunting a new young lady...the poor girl. but this is going to amsuing.....are we looking at a new story based on this new young lady and her new toy rose...she will have to learn the back story of rose and how rose ended up where she is for sure......please....please do more of this......

Sigil

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Through a Mirror Dimly - Chapter 3
« Reply #66 on: 08 November 2015, 12:55:11 »
Chapter 3

In the cockpit of the Clint, Warrant Officer First Class Raquel Stroud cinched the six-point harness as tight as it would go.  As she approached the entrance proper, she stopped fighting herself and just relaxed her mind.  She’d piloted hundreds of ‘Mechs.  As a technician, she routinely piloted machines, mostly damaged ones, in and out of repair facilities as well as out onto the field to evaluate operational status and to confirm repairs.

But none had ever felt like this Clint.  It seemed almost an extension of herself, anticipating her moves instead of responding to her commands.  She couldn’t shake the feeling of “rightness.”  As if she was meant to pilot this ‘Mech, as if the ‘Mech wanted her to pilot it.

“Rose.  Engage automatic target prioritization, target assist, and configure volley fire. Commence full spectrum scanning with the active probe.”

A smooth computer generated feminine voice responded immediately.  “Battle Computer online.  Active probe scanning.”

The training grounds were delineated by both a chain link fence topped with razor wire and a series of strobing radio, infrared, and light beacons making the boundaries unmistakable regardless of the situation.

No sooner had she entered the training grounds than her tactical map lit up with a series of contacts, a line of light pickets about 1.5 km out.  Rose informed her of the details.  “Wasp detected.  Spider detected.  Locust detected.  Jenner detected.”

They were spaced about 200 meters apart in a rough line spanning almost a kilometer.  The terrain was mostly clear with a few scattered hills and clusters of trees.

Pushing the throttle up, she accelerated to just under 120 kph.  The responsiveness and sheer power of the 40-ton ‘Mech was nothing short of amazing.  Angling off to her right, she watched on her tactical as the four light ‘Mechs began shifting their own positions in an attempt to intersect her.  The Locust was the closest of the four and her equal in speed, although the gangly bird-like ‘Mech lacked any jump capacity.

“Rose.  Extrapolate target’s course and speed and overlay on tactical.”  A series of gently curving red lines appeared, starting out narrow on the enemy ‘Mechs current position and then fanning out as the deviations were factored in.   It was obvious she could prevent them from bringing their full firepower to bear on her simultaneously by swinging out towards the eastern boundary of the grounds.

It suddenly occurred to her then, that she had no idea what the goal of the training run actually was.  “Rose.  What’s the primary objective?”

“The primary objective is to identify and destroy or disable the enemy commander’s BattleMech.  There is 3% probability any of the current four targets is the primary objective.”

Well, that changes things.  If she avoided the lance of light ‘Mechs they would almost certainly circle around her at the first opportunity.  Obviously there was at least one, if not more ‘Mechs, still out in the field, likely at least another lance.  The Locust and Spider were making good time, leaving the Wasp and the Jenner, which was the furthest away, to play catchup.

Spying a small hill some 300 meters ahead, she tweaked her course to put it between her and the two approaching light ‘Mechs.  They were coming straight in, intent on engaging her.  “Rose.  Overlay weapons ranges on all targets and display my effective range.”

Bingo.  She’d have time to snap off a shot at the lead Locust before breaking line of sight behind the hill.  As she screamed towards the hill, she rotated her torso to the left, the Locust and Spider now visible through the viewscreen.  Unbidden, the Locust suddenly expanded on the HUD as some type of optical or electronic magnification was applied, her targeting reticle expanding along with it.  Around the Locust everything remained the same size.  The reticle itself seemed drawn to her intended target and reflexively she unleashed her extended range large laser for the first time.

The cerulean beam connected against the Locust’s left leg, burning straight through its light armor and briefly into the supporting structure underneath before it was obscured by the hill.  Pulling back on the control sticks, she brought the Clint skidding to a stop behind the hill. 

The Spider lit up its jump jets, launching itself high into the air, vaulting over the mountain with a single massive bound.  But it was exactly what Rose had predicted the ‘Mech would do and as it crested the mountain, she had her reticle waiting for it, sending her full trio of lasers against it.  The heavy laser all but tore off the Spider’s left arm while the two mediums grouped perfectly against the right side of its chest, burning deep into it.  Deep enough that it fused one the jump jet ports closed causing the Spider to falter mid-air, forcing it down prematurely.  Equipped with only a pair of medium pulse lasers, it was only effective within a paltry 180 meters.

Yanking her throttle back, she shifted the nimble Clint into full reverse, opening up the distance between her and the Spider even as the Locust made the turn around the hill.  Leveling her heavy laser at the Locust once more she fired, this time breaching the right torso of the 20-ton ‘Mech. 

As the Spider recovered and began sprinting towards her backpedaling ‘Mech, the Locust hungrily bore in finally closing to within range for its own weapons.  Her reticle already on the Locust, she exchanged volleys with it.  The Locust made its shot count, hitting her Clint center mass, but her heavy laser melted what remained of its left leg even as her mediums ripped into its right arm and chest.  With one leg gone, the ‘Mech crashed to the ground, ripping a long furrow in the dirt, rolling over twice before finally coming to a stop, a tangled and smoking mess.

“Locust disabled.  Spider is primary.  Jenner and Wasp will be within in range in 20 seconds.”

As if to announce its arrival, a pulse laser stitched a line just past her right leg as a second stream worked across her right torso.  With one of the Spider’s arms already heavily damaged, Stroud abruptly changed directions, bulling into the light ‘Mech even as her lasers recycled.

Unleashing a vicious kick, she buckled in the armor plates protecting the Spider’s right leg, sending a shower of sparks cascading to the ground as she mangled one of the actuators.  Stomping the jump jet pedals, she sent Rose rocketing into the air, leaping easily atop the hill where she caught sight of the rapidly approaching Jenner and Wasp.

“Jenner is primary.  Panther detected.  Phoenix Hawk detected.  Crab detected.  Hunchback detected.”  A quick glance at her tactical showed the medium lance was still a good klick away.  She still had some time.  Her heavy laser struck the 35-ton Jenner square in the chest, melting away a half ton of armor in the process, but it wasn’t enough to breach it.  Heavily armed, though lightly armored, the Jenner was by far the biggest threat.  At least for now.

Hitting the jump jets again, she leapt back off the hill, putting it between her and approaching light ‘Mechs.  Pivoting mid-air, her sudden change of direction sent the twin streams of pulse lasers just past her as she brought the Clint down less than a 100 meters from the damaged Spider she had left in her rear.

Sending her bevy of lasers straight into the Spider, they grouped almost perfectly, burning deep into its chest and on into the delicate gyro assembly.  The Spider stiffened suddenly, toppling to the ground unable to move.

“Spider disabled.”

Even as she whipped her Clint back around towards the hill, the Jenner crested it atop its own pillars of flames, the Wasp right on its heels.  Instinctively, she jammed the throttle wide open, activating the supercharger.  Thrust back into the command couch, the ‘Mech tore straight ahead, accelerating to over 150 kph in just a matter of seconds.  Behind her, streams of laser fire speared the ground as short range missiles threw up geysers of dirt and rock.  For a few scant seconds, it was all she could do to hold onto the charging ‘Mech as it raced blindly ahead.

“Containment field 90%.”

She careened the ‘Mech around to her left, finding it difficult to control the rampaging war machine.  Finally, she managed to pull back on the throttle, slowing it down, although it was still traveling incredibly fast.

“Supercharger disengaged.”

Inadvertently, she’d managed to open the distance back up between her and the other two light ‘Mechs.  Taking advantage of it, she sent another blast from her extended range large laser at the Jenner who was just beginning to run down the hill towards her.  Again it struck center mass, the automated targeting assist seeming to all but guide her shots for her.

“On your current course, you will enter the range of the Phoenix Hawk in 28 seconds.  Recommend heading 125.”

She didn’t care, she simply altered her course to 125.  The Jenner and Wasp began doggedly pursuing, but the Wasp simply wasn’t fast enough to keep up with her fleet ‘Mech.  To the west, the lance of medium ‘Mechs was altering their own course in an attempt to cut her off.  Rose’s projections showed the Phoenix Hawk would make intercept, but the other three were just too slow.  Still, the Jenner, now in her rear, rear worried her.

Bracing herself she went from racing ahead at 120 kph to leaping backwards almost as fast, turning a full 180 degrees in the process.  Even before she came down, she’d lined up the heavy laser and snapped off another shot at the Jenner, this one drifting off to hit the stubby left arm.  Then she threw it into full reverse as she waited for her lasers to recycle.  Just as they did, the Jenner closed to within 250 meters sending its full complement of four medium lasers crisscrossing past her own three lasers. 

A pair of the Jenner’s medium lasers sent the last of the protection on her right torso streaming down her leg, the other two narrowly missing.  Her aim continued to be true however, as both her heavy laser, along with one of the mediums struck the Jenner’s right leg, blowing off its foot as the third passed just over top the stumbling bug-like ‘Mech.  The Jenner’s right leg began to buckle as it tried to remain upright, another shower of sparks marking the death of second actuator, and it went down hard. 

“Right Torso:  Breached.  Right Torso Integrity:  70%.  Jenner disabled.” 

As quick glance at the wire diagram of the Clint projected on the HUD confirmed Roses’ damage assessment.  Then the Wasp demanded her attention, announcing its presence with a volley of short-range missiles, one exploded directly against her chest, as its pulse laser landed short, chewing up the ground in front of her.

Briefly firing only the right side jump jets, Stroud sideslipped the Clint, swiveling her torso to the right as she did so to line up her shot.  Her heavy laser bisected the Wasp’s right arm cutting its firepower in half as her two mediums denuded one of its legs and left the right side of its chest exposed.  As she circled to the left, the Wasp slowed, turning sharply to track her swift ‘Mech and once more unleashing its twin SRM rack.  Another thick short-range missile exploded against her right arm as she returned fire.  The heavy laser simply refused to miss, drilling straight through the right side of the Wasp even as her mediums lasers cut one of its legs out from underneath it.  The Wasp spun around, collapsing to the ground.

“Wasp disabled.  Phoenix Hawk is primary.”

A large flashing red arrow alerted her to the direction from which the Phoenix Hawk was approaching.  It’s lancemates were struggling to keep up with the fast ‘Mech and were strung out in a rough line behind it.

Putting her back to the Phoenix Hawk, she once again shoved the throttle to the maximum, angling away from the Hawk and back towards where she’d entered the training grounds.  The Clint’s acceleration took her breath away as the 40-ton ‘Mech sprinted off.

“Containment field 89%.”

The tactical revealed the Phoenix Hawk was every bit her equal in range and almost as fast.  The Beagle’s active scan gave her the rest of the bad news.  Armed with a pair of extended range laser lasers as well as pair of medium pulse lasers, it had twice the firepower she carried, and more armor to boot.  It’s lancemates she could easily out maneuver, but this one she would be hard pressed to escape.

Cresting at 151 kph, Rose was managing to keep its distance from the Hawk, even at the unfavorable angle, and the projections showed she ought to able to reach the central area of the training grounds without getting into range of the other three ‘Mechs.

“Containment field 74%.  Recommend disengaging the supercharger.”

She hated to do it.  Reluctantly she pulled back on the throttle.

“Supercharger disengaged.”

Her mind raced, searching for some, any, possible advantage over the 45-ton Hawk.  Something to even the odds, to give her a chance at least.  For its part, the Hawk seemed unconcerned that it was leaving its lancemates behind.  If she could draw the chase out, she might be able to pull it far enough away that she could engage it without it having the support of its fellows.  At least for 20 seconds, maybe more if she was lucky.  Even one-on-one she was dangerously outmatched, but against a full medium lance her chances were basically nil.

She pushed the throttle back up, desperate for the additional speed.

“Containment field 80%.”

She grit her teeth.

“Containment field 69%.  Recommend disengaging.”

Stroud screamed in the cockpit as the Clint continued hurtling across the field. “Rose! Just a few more seconds!  Come on!”

“Containment field 55%.  Warning!  Field unstable.  Warning!  Radiation leak detected.  Recommend immediate disengagement.”

She pulled the throttle back down, one eye glued on the tactical.  She’d managed to keep her distance from the Hawk and now she had a clear field ahead, forcing them to turn and try to chase her down.  “Rose!  How long until the field stabilizes?”

“Approximately 40 seconds.”

She growled, “Now where the hell is that command ‘Mech?”

She’d reached the rough center of the training grounds now.  Off to the northwest she saw a series of tree covered rolling hills.  Dead ahead was mostly clear, while off to her right the land slopped gently down towards a river.

She plowed ahead unsure of which direction to go as the Phoenix Hawk continued its pursuit.  Behind it the other three ‘Mechs began fanning out.

“ECM field detected.  Heading 325.  Approximately two kilometers away.  57% probability it is concealing the location of the primary objective.”

Glancing at her tactical, she switched her heading, angling towards the tree-covered hills from where the ECM field was being generated.  She was quickly running out time to try and deal with the Hawk and the ECM field was now beginning to move slowly in her direction. 

The net had been cast and it was slowly closing in around her.  Seeing a copse of trees off to the right some two hundred meters away, a plan materialized in her mind.  “Rose!  Engage broadband jamming!”

She stomped the jump jet petals as the air around her filled with electronic interference from the Guardian ECM.  Jerking her ‘Mech hard to the east, she all but flew through the air as she brought her ‘Mech down just inside the stand of trees.

“Rose!  Low power standby!  Turn off the Guardian last!”

The Clint became ominously quiet in seconds as she intently stared out of the viewport with bated breath.  She should have just suddenly disappeared from tracking systems of the ‘Mechs hunting her.

She willed herself into perfect stillness as if her own physical movement might give away her location.  Just as blind as those who sought to find her, the seconds ticked by, each one seeming an hour.

Then the Phoenix Hawk appeared, moving swiftly as it continued to follow her original course.  Perfect.  Still she waited.  She had only one chance as this.  A protracted fight would allows it comrades to enter the fray all but ending any hope she had of locating the enemy commander’s ‘Mech.

It’s torso swiveled back and forth as it sought to find any evidence of where the Clint had gone.  The use of her jump jets had eliminated the tell tale foot prints of her 40-ton machine, making it seem as if she had, in fact, suddenly disappeared without a trace.

As it approached to just over 200 meters away from her, still oblivious to her location, she made her move.


“Rose!  Full power!  Now!”

In a fraction of a second, the Clint was fully operational once more.  She unleashed her trio of lasers even as she lifted off from the trees, arcing gracefully towards the unsuspecting Phoenix Hawk.  Laser fire stabbed all along the right side of the Phoenix Hawk as it twisted its torso to meet her.  One of the Hawk’s heavy lasers flew wildly off, but the twin streams of deadly accurate pulse lasers traced a path across the air and into her right arm.

“Right Arm Armor:  7%.  Critical.  Right Torso Integrity 55%.”

She brought herself down adjacent to the Hawk’s damaged right side, discharging her recycled lasers as she landed.  Kilojoules of energy poured once more into its right torso opening a ragged hole.  Pulling her left arm back, she sent a lethal punch directly into the exposed engine compartment, grasping ‘Mech innards with her hand actuator as she ripped out hunks of bulky extra light engine shielding.

Overwhelmed by the ferocity of the attack, the Hawk stumbled, then fell.

“Enemy ‘Mechs approaching effective combat range.”  Its lance mates were racing to its aid, and she was out of time.  Hitting the LFT-10s once more, she sent herself rocketing back and away from the approaching Crab.  Blissfully, the Crab carried only standard heavy lasers and not the extended model both her and the Hawk enjoyed, it’s twin spears landing impotently short.

As she flew away from the downed Hawk, she sent a final volley of laser fire into it as it struggled to regain its feet.  Already shifting her attention ahead, she angled her flight to put her back inline with the slowly moving ECM field.

“Phoenix Hawk disabled.”

The second she hit the ground, she slammed the throttle to the wall.  “Rose!  Switch the Guardian to ECCM mode!”

“ECCM mode engaged.  Containment field 87%.”

Alternating between running, and leaping, the Clint raced into the hills, leaving the other three ‘Mechs to continue their stolid advance, trapping her between them and whatever lay within the ECM field.

---

« Last Edit: 09 November 2015, 16:07:36 by Sigil »

ckosacranoid

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Re: Fragged (Collected Short Stories and Orphaned Writings)
« Reply #67 on: 08 November 2015, 15:01:43 »
very cool. nice to see her getting the way rose works. she seems to be more level headed then sigil at least. but this is getting very cool and thanks sigil for writting this.

DOC_Agren

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Re: Fragged (Collected Short Stories and Orphaned Writings)
« Reply #68 on: 08 November 2015, 22:49:40 »
WOW

Very interesting.. Rose is back and that Clint Head they managed to get all his electronics back working after Sigil fried them and himself
"For the Angel of Death spread his wings on the blast, And breathed in the face of the foe as he passed:And the eyes of the sleepers waxed deadly and chill, And their hearts but once heaved, and for ever grew still!"

snakespinner

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Re: Fragged (Collected Short Stories and Orphaned Writings)
« Reply #69 on: 09 November 2015, 00:57:32 »
I wonder if Rose repaired herself or convinced a tech to repair her. >:D
I wish I could get a good grip on reality, then I would choke it.
Growing old is inevitable,
Growing up is optional.
Watching TrueToaster create evil genius, priceless...everything else is just sub-par.

Sigil

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Through a Mirror Dimly - Chapter 4
« Reply #70 on: 09 November 2015, 16:06:46 »
Chapter 4

In the Training Ground command center, Captain Wihlem Vought watched in mixed admiration and disbelief as the Clint sprinted off to the north after laying waste to the Phoenix Hawk.  Few cadets, or faculty for that matter, had managed to successfully penetrate the second defensive belt. 

And in any case, Class Five simulations were a rare event in of themselves, primarily because of the actual physical wear and tear it inflicted upon the Academy’s BattleMechs.  While the “enemies” were sophisticated holographic projections and the damage was all simulated, slips and falls, any physical contact really, along with the strain of pushing a high performance war machine to its maximum, all took a real, and potentially expensive, toll on a BattleMech.  For that reason alone, Class Five simulations were restricted to senior cadets only, to say nothing of the high probability the cadet would likely emerge with at least a concussion.  There had even been a few deaths over the past decade he’d been in command of the Training Grounds.

Most of their fourth year cadets when faced with the Gauntlet choose to pilot an assault class BattleMech, in the Academy’s case that meant either a 100-ton Atlas or an 80-ton Zeus, both courtesy of their close relationship with nearby Defiance Industries.  Heavily armed and just as heavily protected, cadets invariably valued firepower and armor over speed and mobility. 

It was still the Lyran way after all, although the creation of the Federated Commonwealth Regimental Combat Teams and the integration of Davion tactics that had come along with the formation of the AFFC had finally begun to change that.  Of course, technically, they were members of the Lyran Alliance now, so who knew what the future would hold, especially with everything rimward quickly falling into total chaos as CCAF and FWLM forces streamed into the area surrounding Terra, snapping up planets left and right.

But, it wasn’t the fact that Warrant Officer Raquel Stroud had racked up 5 kills that surprised him.  Many cadets had achieved that many kills, in some cases even more, but they all eventually fell to the massed firepower of the remaining enemy ‘Mechs as they were inevitably mobbed in their slow and cumbersome machines.  There was simply no way to destroy them fast enough.  He knew this.  He’d seen countless cadets try it and they had all failed.     

No, what shocked him was the fact that she’d managed to get past the medium attack lance.  The Panther, Crab, and Hunchback were all behind her and unable to catch up.  In fact, they were actually losing ground to her Clint.  Likely, they would lose even more ground as she entered the hills and forest that dominated the northwestern quadrant of the grounds.

In front him at one of the control consoles, Leutnant Hillsack whistled.  “You seeing this, Captain?  I clocked that Clint at over 150 and with a jump capacity of over 200 meters!  She’s making a real run at this thing!  I haven’t seen a run this good since Captain Weddle took his T-bolt out there and that was five years ago!”

Hauptman Jochen Weddle, Professor of Tactics and Strategy, had indeed taken his heavily modified Thunderbolt into the Gauntlet shortly after his arrival to take the teaching position here at his alma mater.  A former MechWarrior from the Third Lyran Guard during the War of 3039, he’d joined a mercenary outfit after the fighting had ended, going onto to briefly found a mercenary command of his own.  Caught in the first wave of the Clan Invasion, he’d fought against both Clan Ghost Bear and Clan Wolf in a string of defeats that had driven his unit almost all the way back to Skye.

But he had survived.  He’d fought the Clans a dozen times and lived to tell the tale.  And he’d brought his T-Bolt with him to the Academy.  A legendary machine, it had top speed of over 85 kph, a jump capacity of a full 150 meters, and carried a full complement of salvaged Clan-tech weapons.  He’d tied the school record of 10 kills with it, although even he had ultimately failed to destroy the enemy command ‘Mech and escape.  Nonetheless, it secured his position at the Academy and added to his already near mythical reputation as a MechWarrior.

And now this tech from Support Team Three was out there kicking ass and taking names like nobody’s business. 

“Hillsack.  You recording this?”

The leutnant nodded vigorously.  “You bet your ass I am, Captain!”

---

The wire diagram on the HUD told the story.  The Clint’s right arm was all but breached, the right torso structure was heavily damaged, and almost half the armor covering her chest was now a memory as well.  A single hit to her right torso with anything larger than a medium laser would put her down for good from engine damage.

She hit the LFT-10s as she reached the first of the hills, easily vaulting over it in a single bound.  Again she was forced to marvel at the ‘Mechs performance followed by the mystery of how it was she was even able to pilot it.  It was as if she’d been born to pilot this particular BattleMech.  Like love at first sight, they had been destined for each other and were now inextricably linked together.

Sailing high over the next tree-covered hill, she braced herself as she drew ever closer to the ECM field.

“Rose!  How long until you can cancel out that ECM field!?”

“32 seconds at current course and speed.  68% probability the primary objective is within the ECM field.”

The combination of dense trees and elevation changes made jumping the only way to make good time towards her destination.  Any ‘Mech lacking jump jets would be at a severe disadvantage in terrain like this, but it suited her ‘Mech perfectly.  The tactical showed the remainder of the Phoenix Hawk’s lance now just beginning to struggle their way up the hills and into the woods.  Only the Panther was able to make decent time, and its jump capacity was limited to only 120 meters.  Effectively, they were out of the game, at least for now.

Suddenly, her cockpit was bathed in a bloody red light.  Without even thinking about it, she abruptly shifted the direction of the leaping Clint using the directional nozzles on the LFT-10s.  Rose explained a split second later.

“Hidden unit detected.  Assault class.  Hidden unit detected.  Heavy class.  Recommend immediate evasive action.”

Even as her Clint skewed off to the right in mid-flight, a massive volley of long and short range missiles erupted from within the forest off to her left filling the sky with deadly warheads.  Her abrupt change of direction was enough to throw off the hidden ‘Mech’s immense volley of missile fire, but it also had the effect of bringing her closer to the second one.  To her right, an enormous silver slug streaked towards her followed by laser fire and another bevy of short range missiles. 

And she was heading directly towards it.

Rose urgently informed her of just exactly what she now faced.  “Crusader detected.  Victor detected.  Recommend immediate withdraw.”

She took the Gauss slug straight to the chest as laser fire ripped into her right arm and warheads detonated all along her left side.  Alarm klaxons shrieked as the Clint faltered in mid-air and she knew she was going down early and hard.

A strangely concerned sounding Rose tallied the damage as she fought to control her fall.

“Center Torso:  Breached.  Critical.  Engine shielding.  Center Torso Integrity:  52%.  Right Arm:  Breached.  Right Arm Integrity:  43%.  Recommend immediate withdraw.”

It was all Stroud could do to bring the Clint down on its relatively intact left side.  She hit the ground hard shedding even more armor in the process, her head whipsawing forward then back again, leaving her disoriented and confused.

An urgent wailing filled her cockpit as if Rose was desperately calling to her for help.  “Victor approaching.  Crusader approaching.  Take immediate action.  Victor primary.  Actively jamming primary target.”

In a daze, she rolled the Clint onto its front, the viewscreen filling with dirt, rock, and splintered chucks of wood.  Levering herself back to her feet, she tried to block out the deafening roar of the alarms even as the Missile Lock Indicator began shrilling, adding to the overwhelming cacophony.

No sooner had she gotten her feet back under her than she slapped the throttle wide open.  The Clint shot forward like a rocket, trees exploding against it as she tore blindly though the forest.  Behind her, where she had been just seconds ago, another awe inspiring salvo of missiles eviscerated the forest ground.

A new alarm blared to life.  “Collision imminent.  Brace for impact.”

The 80-ton Victor suddenly descended directly in front of her, flames pouring from it back as it readied its weapons.  She didn’t even try to fire, didn’t have time to fire, simply shifted right and bored straight in. 

Lasers, missiles and the deadly Gauss rifle all discharged from the angry Victor as she clipped the assault ‘Mech’s right side, but she was already in too close for the Gauss rifle to hit her, and the slug flew harmlessly wide.  The dual medium pulse lasers and the SRM-4, were a different story entirely.  Streams of laser fire stripped armor from her legs as a trio of short range missiles exploded against her vulnerable chest.

“Critical.  Engine Shielding.  Right Arm:  Destroyed.  Right Torso Integrity:  10%.  Overall Structural Integrity:  41%.  Left Arm Armor:  12%.  Right Leg Armor:  15%.  Left Leg Armor:  34%.”

She gasped as she managed to pass by the Victor.  The damage she’d done to it was only superficial, but she was past!

In jubilation, she fired the Clint’s jump jets, soaring into the sky once more, springing away from the two deadly BattleMechs.

Quickly reorienting herself to the overall tactical situation, she saw she was barely more than 600 meters away from the ECM field.  One more leap was all she needed.  Behind her, the two big ‘Mechs were firing their own jump jets in pursuit of her, but the hills were blocking their line of sight.  Rose’s ability was leap was just simply too great for them to maintain contact in the dense terrain.

Stroud screamed, “ROSE!  ECCM MODE!  BRING DOWN THAT FIELD!  NOW!”

No sooner had she landed from her next leap than the ECM field shattered, revealing what could only be the final two BattleMechs.  And she found herself standing just inside a dangerously clear valley.

“Archer detected.  Charger detected.  88% probability Archer is the primary objective.  Recommend use of Target Acquisition Gear.  Aerospace sortie and Arrow IV batteries standing by.”

Aerospace sortie?  Arrow IV Battery?  What the hell was Rose talking about?

The Lock On Indicator screamed to life once more even as the Archer’s chest mounted Doombud LRM-20’s flipped opened promising to make good on their name.

She shoved the throttle wide open, engaging the Supercharger and sending the Clint dashing towards the two ‘Mechs.  The Charger unleashed its own LRM-20 just as she dropped the reticle over the 70-ton Archer and pulled the trigger.

But there were simply too many LRMs in the air for them all to miss, and to make matters worse with the Guardian Suite operating in ECCM mode, she was unable to disrupt the Artemis IV Fire Control System which help guide them.

Her cockpit darkened ominously as the massive cloud of LRMs blocked out the sun as they began their deadly decent.  Her two feeble medium lasers, all that remained of her weaponry, crisscrossed a pair of their counterparts from the Archer even as the Charger added a quartet of medium pulses.

“Target Solution Acquired.  Transmitting now.”

Then her ‘Mech shut down, plowing face first into the valley floor as “BattleMech Destroyed.  Mission Over.” flashed across her HUD in giant blocky red letters.

As her Clint lay prone on the ground, Stroud was left gasping in her now silent cockpit.  She lay there recovering her breath and her senses, utterly exhausted by the trial.  Hanging limply against her six-point harness, she was surprised to hear Roses’ voice.

“Enemy command ‘Mech identified.  Enemy command ‘Mech destroyed.”

Glancing out of the viewport, she caught the contrails from a pair of 90-ton Chippewa aerospace fighters winging away even as the last of the Arrow IV homing missiles finished disemboweled the Archer.

A new voice broke her out of her trance, a masculine voice.  “This is Captain Vought of Training Command.  Return to base for a full debriefing.”

---

The Training Command Center was in an absolute uproar.  Captain Vought shook his head in utter disbelief.  It was the closest anyone had ever come to successfully running the Gauntlet.  Ever.  “Hillsack.  Get me Hauptman-General Stockard.  And have Warrant Officer Stroud meet us in the de-briefing room as soon as she’s back.  And pull ALL of her files.  I want her complete dossier in my hand before the General arrives.”

“Yes, sir.  I’m on it!”

---

Warrant Officer Raquel Stroud slowly brought Rose back to her feet.  Now that the training circuit had been terminated, her ‘Mech returned to normal operation.  The wire diagram showed where she’d given her a few good scratches, but nothing serious.  All around her the training grounds were quiet, although the radio strobes that marked the boundaries remained visible on her tactical.  There were no other ‘Mechs, no evidence of the desperate battle she’d just fought, just a line of shattered trees and a few long furrows in the dirt.

It was enough to make her wonder if she’d dreamed the whole thing.  Enough to make her wonder if she was still, in fact, dreaming. 

Roses’ voice purred back to life.  “All systems nominal.”

Stroud shook her head.  Rose actually sounded pleased.  And earlier, hadn’t she sounded concerned? Hadn’t Rose screamed for her help when the Victor had brought them down?  And since when had she been a MechWarrior, anyway?  She was a technician by training!

Her thoughts drifted back to the first time she’d climbed into the Clint’s cockpit as she began carefully navigating her way out of the training grounds.  That had been, what, just two hours ago, maybe?  She’d blacked out in the cockpit.

No, that wasn’t quite right.  The Clint had trapped her inside.  The neural feedback.  Suddenly, she couldn’t wait to get out of this thing.  She throttled Rose up, swiftly passing through the training grounds. 

She was supposed to deliver this ‘Mech to The Barn.  Wasn’t that what had started this entire bizarre train of events?

Less than a half an hour later, Stroud clambered out of the Clint, which she left standing sentinel over various mounds of junk and burned out vehicles in The Barn.  She couldn’t shake the sensation that it was watching her as she walked away and hopped into a jeep that had been dispatched to take her back to the training center.  It was all she could do not to turn around and look as the Corporal drove her off.

That and how the hell was she going to explain all of this…

 ---

ckosacranoid

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Re: Fragged (Collected Short Stories and Orphaned Writings)
« Reply #71 on: 10 November 2015, 01:54:40 »
Damn you sigil, you just had to bring back part of the 69th. Neddless to say the coolest part of the unit really. Now we are going to end up badgering to do more of this and do the history of what happened to rose in the missing years.

snakespinner

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Re: Fragged (Collected Short Stories and Orphaned Writings)
« Reply #72 on: 10 November 2015, 01:56:07 »
A Clint named Rose will be appearing in your dreams and nightmares until you write more. :D O0
I wish I could get a good grip on reality, then I would choke it.
Growing old is inevitable,
Growing up is optional.
Watching TrueToaster create evil genius, priceless...everything else is just sub-par.

MechRat

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Re: Fragged (Collected Short Stories and Orphaned Writings)
« Reply #73 on: 10 November 2015, 08:26:48 »
Excellent writing as always!  O0 More, more!

Sigil

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Re: Fragged (Collected Short Stories and Orphaned Writings)
« Reply #74 on: 10 November 2015, 08:32:53 »
I want you all to know, it's the encouragement and comments that  I receive from all of you that drives me to continue to write  :)
That, and perhaps an odd little obsession with a certain 40-ton BattleMech...  :))
Please drop a quick note if your reading this series, it give me some insight into what people enjoy reading.

The Clint as currently configured is attached just for fun :)
« Last Edit: 10 November 2015, 08:54:05 by Sigil »

Shadow_Wraith

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Re: Fragged (Collected Short Stories and Orphaned Writings)
« Reply #75 on: 10 November 2015, 09:38:01 »
Hopefully you have a nice adventure for the Mech and the WO Stroud!

Cidwm

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Re: Fragged (Collected Short Stories and Orphaned Writings)
« Reply #76 on: 10 November 2015, 15:57:13 »
Would love to see this continue as new story.

Sigil

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Through a Mirror Dimly - Chapter 5
« Reply #77 on: 10 November 2015, 16:45:07 »
Chapter 5

Hauptman-General Vin Stockard watched silently as the recording of Warrant Officer First Class Raquel Stroud’s run through the Gauntlet played on the monitor wall in the main de-briefing room of the training command center.  Next to him, Captain Wihlem Vought poured through the Warrant Officer’s full unabridged dossier.

A pair of strafing runs from two 90-ton Chippewa aerospace fighters, followed by a series of homing missiles strikes from an Arrow IV battery reduced the OpFor commander’s Archer to burning rubble even as the Warrant Officer’s Clint was destroyed by a combined volley of 60 LRMs from the doomed Archer and its untouched comrade, an 80-ton Charger.

As the holovid ended, General Stockard turning a questioning gaze to the Captain.

Vought was already shaking his head as he tossed the datapad with Stroud’s dossier onto the table.  “No, General, I can’t explain it.  The more I watch it, the more questions I come up with.”

Stockard frowned.  “How many people have seen this and where is Warrant Officer Stroud now?”

Vought responded, “Everyone in the command center saw the run and the video is already circulating among the cadet core.  How it got out so quickly, I have no idea, but I can assure you I will be conducting a full investigation of the leak.  There are only a handful of people who could have done it and I will have answers in short order, sir.  As for the Warrant Officer, she is waiting for us in one of the adjacent briefing rooms.  I took the liberty of posting a guard outside her door as well.”

Stockard looked less than pleased.  “What do you know, Captain?”

Again Vought shook his head.  “Not much at this point, sir.  She was born on Enders Cluster in 3028, which was part of the Rim Worlds Republic until we conquered it way back in 2774.  It’s literally as far out in the middle of nowhere as you can get and still be considered in the Commonwealth, pardon me sir, the Alliance I mean.  Her father operated a mining ‘Mech for a subsidiary of Zettle Metals located there and her mother was a part-time waitress as far as I can tell.”

He continued on, “She was flagged as part of the standard neurological testing conducted in secondary schools.  Her neural network and synaptic response times indicated a strong probability of compatibility with the processes used in neurohelmets.  She was sent to Buena, some 60 light years away, for a full assessment.  The War College of Buena conducted a full battery of tests on her and determined she was a suitable candidate for MechWarrior training and she was given a full state-sponsored ride.  In fact, her neural elasticity put her in the top 1% of all candidates.”

“She completed two years of MechWarrior training at the War College before washing out due to poor gunnery scores.  Her piloting was only marginally better at that time.  After failing as a MechWarrior, she transferred to the technical side of the College where she excelled.  She graduated with honors two years later as a Full Technician, specializing in electronics and sensor systems.  That was in 3050, just as the Clan Invasion began.”

“As a condition of her scholarship, she was required to take a commission with the LCAF.  The 17th Donegal Guards accepted her as a Sergeant and she was given command of a BattleMech support team.  The 17th Donegal was sent to Jabuka where they fought against the Alpha Galaxy of Clan Steel Viper alongside the 19th Lyran Guards.  The 19th was wiped out, but the Donegal Guards managed to withdraw with heavy losses.  No longer a combat effective unit, the 17th was rotated off the frontlines to be rebuilt and wouldn’t see any more action during the Clan Invasion.  After serving four full years, Stroud opted not to re-enlist in 3054.  However, the CO of the 17th, Leutnant-General Quitman Brown, noted in her personnel file that Stroud was an exceptionally talented, and brave, Technician, nominating her for a McKennsy Ground-Pounder's Medal due to her repeated service repairing and reloading the unit’s BattleMechs while under direct enemy fire.”

“In 3055, she applied as a Full Technician here at Sanglamore and was hired as a Warrant Officer.  She was promoted to Warrant Officer First Class last year and given command of Support Team Three.  Her time here has been unremarkable, at least until now, and there are no violations or notes of any kind in her personnel file from her time here.  She is in Pay Band 4.”

General Stockard rubbed his chin.  “As the Officer-in-Charge of the training grounds this morning, just how did a Technician end up running a Class Five combat simulation, Captain?  Certainly you know the answer to that.”

Vought look surprised.  “She wasn’t on the schedule, sir, but when Leutnant Hillsack asked her to transmit the appropriate authorization, she did so.  It was under your name, sir.”

Vought picked up the datapad from the table, flicking through to the authorization code, and handed it to the General.

“This is your authorization code, isn’t it, sir?”

General Stockard stared at the datapad for a long moment in astonishment, his surprise changing quickly over to anger.  “How the hell did she get this?  I didn’t authorize this!  This is one helluva serious breach of security!”  He chucked the datapad back on the table in disgust.  “Get I.T. on this NOW!”

Growling, Stockard continued, “And what the hell were those aerospace fighters and arty doing in that simulation anyway?!  I’ve never heard of nor seen them before and we’ve be running cadets through that build of the Gauntlet for over 10 years!  I think its past time we have a little talk with Warrant Officer Stroud.”

Vought nodded in agreement.  “If you will follow me, sir, I will take you to her immediately.”

---

Warrant Officer First Class Raquel Stroud shifted uncomfortably in one of the upholstered rolling chairs that surrounded the oval table that dominated the center of the briefing room.  One wall of the sterile conference room was dominated by a huge monitor wall, while the table itself doubled as a holographic display surface.  She hadn’t been in a room like this since her time with the Donegal Guards, and those weren’t exactly happy memories.  Not with the losses her team, and the entire unit, had taken at the hands of the Steel Vipers.

She kept replaying the past few hours over and over in her head trying to make some kind of sense out of it all, but it simply refused to make any sense.  She wasn’t a MechWarrior.  She’d never really been a MechWarrior.  She was a trained BattleMech technician for Kerensky’s sake! 

How she’d ended up on the training grounds was beyond a mystery to her.  Sure, her mouth had spoken the words, but, as crazy as it sounded, they hadn’t been her words!  It was almost as if someone else had been speaking through her. 

And the ‘Mech controls!  It had been as if someone had removed a blindfold from her and suddenly she could see!  The function of the myriad control surfaces had seemed obvious, and her manipulation of them intuitive. 

It was enough to make her wonder if she was losing her mind. 

Or, if perhaps the Clint had somehow altered it.

But that was crazy talk!

Her rambling train of thought was cut off as the door to the briefing room opened.  She shot to her feet snapping off a hasty salute as she recognized Hauptman-General Vin Stockard.  Behind him came another man, a Captain judging from his insignia, his nametape proclaiming “Vought.”

The General gave her a long hard look and then the two men sat down across the table from her.  “At ease, solider.  Sit down.”

The General looked clearly agitated.  “I’m going to cut straight through the bullshit, Officer Stroud.  How did you get my personal authorization code?”

Stroud paled immediately.  “Your personal authorization code, sir?”

The Captain spoke up.  “You transmitted the General’s authorization code in order to gain clearance to run the Gauntlet.  The transmission originated from your ‘Mech.  You provided the code.  Now, answer the General’s question, Warrant Officer.”

Stroud paled even further, as if hoping she could simply just fade away right then and there.  “I… I… don’t know, sir.  I mean, I transmitted the authorization but I had no idea it was the General’s code, sir.”

The Captain’s eyes bored into hers.  “Where did you get the code!”

“It… It was the ‘Mech, sir.  It already had the code.  The ‘Mech gave it to me, sir.”

The Captain snorted.  “And I suppose the ‘Mech just piloted itself through the Gauntlet as well, Officer Stroud?”

Stroud nodded.  “Yes, sir, kind of, sir.  I… I… can’t really explain it.  It was if the ‘Mech wanted me to pilot it, sir.  It, I mean we, well, it was kinda like we were one, sir.  I don’t know how to…”

The General looked pissed.  “The ‘Mech gave it to you!  The ‘Mech wanted you to pilot it!  If you think for a second I’m buying any of this cockamamy bullshit, you better think again, Warrant Officer!  I’ve heard the stories about that Clint, if you think you can explain this whole situation away based on some mumbo jumbo supernatural fairy tales, you better think again.  This isn’t some kind of joke.  You’re in serious trouble, and we can do this the hard way, or you can just tell us what the hell you’re up to.  Now, where did you get my code from!  Answer me!”

Stroud took one look at the raging General and knew she was in deep, deep trouble.

The Captain leaned across the table.  “We know you specialized in electronics and computer systems at the War College of Buena.  How did you break into the SGL_Sec network?  You hacked the Gauntlet training program too while you were in there, didn’t you?”

Stroud froze.  The accusations were flying and getting more serious by the second and she had the sinking realization she might end this very day in a holding cell.

She stiffened her lip and straightened herself up.  “I’ve done nothing wrong, sir.  I did not steal any authorization codes, nor have I accessed or altered any information without the property authority.  My actions will have to speak for themselves as I have no way of explaining them, sir.”

The two men across from her glared in silence.  Finally, the Captain spoke up.  “In the very least, you are in clear violation of the policy governing Class 5 combat simulations.  Class 5 simulations are restricted to senior cadets and faculty.  I am hereby relieving you of your duties and placing you on administrative leave until such time as the investigation is complete.  During that time, you are confined to your quarters are not at liberty to discuss this incident with anyone without my personal written consent.  You will be assigned an advocate from the JAG office to represent you and will be aescourted at all times by a member of the Military Police.  Is that clear Warrant Officer Stroud?”

Giving a curt nod, she answered.  “Yes, sir.  Perfectly clear, sir.”

“Good.  I can assure you we will get to the bottom of this as quickly as possible.  I will have Staff Sergeant Goddard escort you to your quarters now where you are to remain until summoned. You are Dismissed.”

---


Dave Talley

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Re: Fragged (Collected Short Stories and Orphaned Writings)
« Reply #78 on: 10 November 2015, 16:57:34 »
somebady better tell Weddle, thats his mech isnt it, as salvage from his
unit that is
Resident Smartass since 1998
“Toe jam in training”

Because while the other Great Houses of the Star League thought they were playing chess, House Cameron was playing Paradox-Billiards-Vostroyan-Roulette-Fourth Dimensional-Hypercube-Chess-Strip Poker the entire time.
JA Baker

DOC_Agren

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Re: Fragged (Collected Short Stories and Orphaned Writings)
« Reply #79 on: 10 November 2015, 23:04:01 »
Well when he hears and then sees the video he will have a clue what going on
"For the Angel of Death spread his wings on the blast, And breathed in the face of the foe as he passed:And the eyes of the sleepers waxed deadly and chill, And their hearts but once heaved, and for ever grew still!"

snakespinner

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Re: Fragged (Collected Short Stories and Orphaned Writings)
« Reply #80 on: 11 November 2015, 02:25:54 »
Must be Steiner space. Anybody doing something brilliant is treated as a criminal.
If she had been a noble she would be promoted and commanding an RCT. :D O0
I wish I could get a good grip on reality, then I would choke it.
Growing old is inevitable,
Growing up is optional.
Watching TrueToaster create evil genius, priceless...everything else is just sub-par.

Sigil

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Re: Fragged (Collected Short Stories and Orphaned Writings)
« Reply #81 on: 11 November 2015, 09:20:47 »
Must be Steiner space. Anybody doing something brilliant is treated as a criminal.
If she had been a noble she would be promoted and commanding an RCT. :D O0

 ;D That is so true!  I should really work harder at breaking out of these House stereotypes!  But it's so fun!

Sigil

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Through a Mirror Dimly - Chapter 6
« Reply #82 on: 11 November 2015, 09:59:50 »
Chapter 6

Demi-Precentor VII-Rho Ballard Kundrin stepped onto the ‘Mech lift and with practiced ease raised it level with the head of the Clint.  The canopy was wide open to allow interested parties to easily inspect the cockpit.  It was immediately obvious this was not your typical Clint and had been heavily modified.  The profusion of custom Dalban HiRez displays was a dead giveaway.  He clambered into the cockpit to check the serial number of the chassis.  He found it bolted to the floor under the main instrumentation panel, tucked into the corner. 

CLNT 2-3T Clint
Serial # 10023024
Andoran Industries
Bell, Capellan Confederation
8-July-2691


ComStar been looking for this ‘Mech for eight years.  Since before the sundering of the Federated Commonwealth, before the Battle of Tukayyid, even before the entire Clan Invasion itself.  It’d been one hell of a decade, and it wasn’t even over yet, leaving him to wonder what else could possibly be left in store.  Even as he thought it, his mind turned to the schism that had all too recently occurred within his own organization. 

The so-called Word of Blake was busy establishing themselves on Gibson under the leadership of former Precentor Atreus Demona Aziz and with considerable help from Thomas Marik, the Captain-General of the Free Worlds League, and himself a former ComStar Acolyte.  Already the Word of Blake was running all of the Hyperpulse Generators in League space and undoubtedly making considerable money from it to further their own corrupt interpretation of the Blessed Founder, Jerome Blake’s, words. 

Just the thought of it appalled him.  Primus Sharilar Mori, along with Precentor Martial Anastasius Focht, had it made it clear that ComStar would be a neutral organization, a benevolent guardian of human civilization and the technologies it relied upon.  They, ComStar, were the true followers of Jerome Blake.  The Word of Blake were, in truth, nothing more than devotees of Conrad Toyama, Blake’s successor, who had twisted his mentor’s words and introduced the quasi-religious trappings that had dominated the Order for centuries. 

Crazed religious zealots are what they were.

He shook his head, returning his thoughts to the matter at hand.  Why exactly ComStar was interested in this particular Clint he didn’t know.  All he knew what that this unit had belonged to a mercenary company that had been blacklisted by the Mercenary Review Board for the murder of ComStar personnel and the destruction of ComStar property.  It had reappeared a few years later in connection with the annihilation of an entire ComGuard Level II on Galatea, in Galatea City, which would have certainly been a massive interstellar incident had it not been for the arrival of the Clans later that same year.

It was a pretty sure bet it was still an advanced piece of tech, and perhaps in 3049 it could even have been considered lostech.  But not anymore.  Compared to the Clan OmniMechs he’d seen and even some of the new designs rolling of the rejuvenated assembly lines of the Inner Sphere, this thing was finally beginning to show its age.  Still, orders were orders.  Precentor Skye wanted this ‘Mech and in the end that was all that mattered.

---

Cormack Raswell maneuvered the lift around to the front of Clint and up to the engine housing.  It didn’t take him long to confirm it was an Extralight Vox 280 model.  An early one at that, judging from the way the bulky engine shielding had been formed.  Definitely Capellan manufacture, the writing on the housing was all in Chinese.

Shifting the lift over and raising it higher, he began examining the extensive electronics blisters.  A Beagle Active Probe and a Guardian ECM suite.  Again, early models, both of Capellan manufacture.  He’d seen similar units on the early runs of the RVN-3L Raven.  After jockeying around for a few minutes, he finally located the serial number on the Guardian.  He had no trouble reading the Chinese. 

Guardian ECM Suite
Serial # 00000765
Hellespont Industrials
Sian, Capellan Confederation
Manufactured:  15-August-3048


A dead match.  Next he checked the active probe.  He wasn’t a bit surprised to find that it too matched on of the serial numbers he’d been sent to find.  This was the ‘Mech.  He had suspected it would be, after all the Clint hadn’t been made in almost 250 years and very few had managed to survive for that long.   Less than thirty in all probability remained across the entirety of the Inner Sphere at this point.
Not that it was a particularly good design.  In fact, it was generally held in poor regard.  A maintenance nightmare, it was well known parts were all but impossible to find, and to make matters worse Andoran Industries hadn’t even built them well to begin with.

Not that it mattered to him.  Fangh Li had been quite explicit, and remarkably generous, when he’d sent him here from Galatea.  If the numbers matched, acquire the ‘Mech and bring it to him.  Apparently he had a history with the ‘Mech, although he wasn’t willing to share the details.

But Fangh Li was a notoriously tight-lipped man.  Better he not know anything, it might end up getting him killed later anyway. 

---

Annalisa Bitters cast a critical eye on the 40-ton relic.  Recently arrived from the game world, Solaris VII, her stablemaster had dispatched her here to evaluate a Clint that had been put up for auction by Sanglamore Academy.

Of course the Clint itself was a piece of crap, even though this particular one was in surprisingly good shape for such an ancient war machine.  It wasn’t the ‘Mech she was interested in, rather it was the Sloane 220 Lockover System, reputed to be among the finest Targeting and Tracking systems ever made. 

It had come as a shocking revelation that the Clans still used, and presumably manufactured, the Sloane 220 Lockover System for use in their 40-ton frontline OmniMech, the Dragonfly.  Interestingly enough, the Dragonfly weighed the same as the Clint, and was also an incredibly fast and jump capable machine.  Whatever the case, if the Clans used it that was all she really needed to know. 

The datasheet Sanglamore had provided showed the ‘Mech still retained its original electronics.  Not only that, the sensors had been fully upgraded, including target acquisition gear, electronic countermeasures, and even satellite communications. 

As she brought the lift up looking into the cockpit, she sucked her breath in.  The last time she’d seen so many control surfaces and monitors in one place was in the control center of the Boreal Reach, the Class 6 arena in the Black Hills of Solaris City, famous for its extensive holographic terrain and sophisticated environmental controls.

She let her eyes slowly drift across the plethora of switches, gauges, throttles, levers, buttons, registers, petals, and finally the control sticks themselves.  She was a trained technician, hell, she’d even seen and worked on some Clan tech, but this setup was mind-boggling.  It seemed all but impossible that a single individual could even manage the vast array of controls that surrounded the command couch.

Clearly, the Sloane 220 Lockover must be a serious piece of tech if it could handle all the additional systems that had been installed on this rig.  While the Clint was known to be a technician’s nightmare, it was just as equally well known to have been one of the most accurate.  And looking at this, she was inclined to believe it.

Armed with an extended-range heavy laser, along with two mediums, the ‘Mech had excellent reach, close to 600 meters, almost on par with that of long range missiles.  Far enough to make her wonder about just who had modified this ‘Mech, who had piloted it, and just what had happened to them.

Whatever it was, it sure wasn’t a training academy ‘Mech, that much was for damn sure, leaving her wondering just how Sanglamore Academy had ended up with it in the first place.

---

Captain Angus Barclay, Second Kearny Highlanders, Ret., entered the cavernous warehouse referred to as “The Barn.”  He was serving as an independent consultant at the behest of Duncan Wallace, the CEO of Bulldog Enterprises on Northwind.  Wallace had asked him to travel here to Skye to purchase a Clint BattleMech that was scheduled to be auctioned off by Sanglamore Academy.

He had little trouble locating the machine in question as it was the only BattleMech there.  The vast majority of the equipment being auctioned off consisted of outdated datapads, retired computer systems, a collection of heavily used service vehicles and military hardware, including a few old Manticore heavy tanks, ironically built by Bulldog, along with a myriad of damaged holo-displays and old projection equipment.  There was also office and classroom furnishing aplenty.

As he approached the Clint, he saw a young woman lowering the lift having just finished her own inspection of the BattleMech.  He gave a wry grin.  Young meaning anyone under 50 to his old eyes.  One look at the 40-ton Clint told him everything he need to know.  Wallace had given him a picture of the exact Clint he was looking for and to make matters even easier, one of the members of his old unit, who now taught at Sanglamore, had alerted him to the impending sale.
It had once belonged to another member of Wallace’s old unit, the 69th Virginia Expeditionary Force.  A kid by the name of Sigil.  Wallace credited him with saving the entire command when they’d unexpectedly run into Clan Ghost Bear on Damian just as the Clan Invasion was unfolding.  Of course the stories from that encounter had since become the stuff of legend on Northwind.

By the time Wallace returned, he was married with a wife in tow, the father of a bright eyed little baby girl named Varukka and had adopted a half-Capellan teenaged boy.  But that’s not what had started the legend.  It began when Wallace, and what was left of his ancestral Castle Airth Guard, had landed on Northwind in a gleaming Clan Union-C class DropShip with its belly stuffed full of salvaged Clan OmniMechs, including a vaunted 100-ton Daishi.  And that had been in 3051.  It was the first Clan tech Northwind had seen and the Bulldog Enterprise’s Research and Development division had a field day with it.

Shortly afterwards, his father Lachlan had retired, leaving Bulldog Enterprises in Wallace’s hands.  After that, Bulldog had gone into full production of their 80-ton Schiltron fire support vehicle along with an upgraded version of their Tokugawa.  And after that, they’d entered into a partnership with Cosara Weaponries.  Already Cosara was producing the Schiltron under license, and work rebuilding their ‘Mech production facility, rumored to contain a least three different assembly lines, was well underway.  It was assumed Cosara would bring their 50-ton Crab, and possibly even their 100-ton King Crab, back into production.

In fact, from his old contacts within the Highlanders, there had been talk of Cosara designing an entirely new BattleMech for use by the Royal Black Watch Regiment of the Second Star League.  Of course, rumors about anything and everything had been flying around Northwind recently.  The most interesting of which was talk about succeeding from the now sundered Federated Commonwealth and declaring Northwind an independent planet.

Regardless, here he was and just why exactly Wallace was so interested in this old relic was still something of a mystery to him.  Must be sentimental attachment.  If there was one thing the Highlanders clung to, it was tradition, and that included honoring the fallen.  Wallace had said he owed his life to the deceased young man and that he had been among the best MechWarriors he had ever seen, and coming from a man who lived on Northwind, that was quite a claim. 

Climbing into the lift and circling the ‘Mech, he noted it was in surprisingly good shape for such an old machine.  It matched the pictures exactly, most notably the fins on the back, the custom cockpit, and heavy electronics.  He paused a moment looking at the picture once more, except instead of focusing on the ‘Mech, he zoomed into the young man with a huge grin plastered across his face.

He must have been in his twenties, but he certainly looked younger.  A mop of unruly sandy brown hair sat atop a fresh, open, and mischievous face.  His eyes twinkled from within the picture as if he’d just played some fantastic joke on someone.  He wore mechanics overalls heavily stained with coolant, grease, lubricants, and what looked suspiciously like ketchup, along with who knew what else.  An impressive array of tools hung from hooks and cinches and he looked like a cross between an awkward teenager and mad scientist and not at all like the MechWarrior he allegedly had been.

Turning to look at the Clint again he couldn’t help notice all the disparate parts that had gone into the thing.  It would have made Dr. Frankenstein proud.

---

Amp Rogers methodically made his way through the various piles of equipment that would be auctioned off later that afternoon making various notations on his datapad as he went.

He could turn a few Kroners on some of the surplus datapads, a few more if he could get the holo-vid projectors cheap enough and manage to get a few of them working again.  The displays and computers were mostly junk, worth a handful of Kroners to a recycler at best.

The only real money to be made would be, predictably, off the military equipment.  He made his way over to a line of ragged out service vehicles.  To his surprise, a couple of them were 4x4 Avanti GeoLanders.  Sticking his head under the hood it was clear they’d seen decades of abuse, undoubtedly at the hands of students.  Still, the GeoLander was a tough little utility vehicle and parts were plentiful.  The tires were shot, the suspension was little better and body might as well have seen combat, but the frame still looked solid enough and the engine appeared salvageable.  For the right price, they would be worth the time and trouble.

Next came a trio of tracked armored personnel carriers.  A quick look in the cab revealed they were Drago LT-25s.  Real pieces of crap and the machine guns had all been stripped off.  After poking around for a few minutes, he could see the drivetrain was shot on one, and across all three the sprockets were mostly stripped and the tracks themselves bore the evidence of countless patches.  The bodies had so many welds on them, they looked as if they had been used for target practice.  He thought for moment.  In fact, maybe they had been.  The only value left in them was mostly the weight of the metal.  A lot of hassle for little payoff.

The last vehicles were a pair of tracked 60-ton weapon carriers, another product of Drago, one of the local defense companies.  Slow, poorly armored, and lacking a turret, like the LT-25s, it was designed for militias on a budget.  Whatever weapons had once been installed had been removed, though the armor plating was still largely intact.  By the book it had about 20 tons of space available for weapons, power amplifiers, and heat sinks.  The variants of it were almost endless, dual AC/5s or a single AC/20 being the most common, backed up with heavy machine guns.

Looking into the engine compartment of the first, he could tell instantly it had caught fire.  Peeking into the crew compartment he saw evidence of fire there as well.  This one was junk.  Moving over to examine the second one, the gas turbine looked well-worn and there wasn’t any obvious damage.  At least not until he looked under the hull.  The torsion bar suspension had been all but ripped out and it looked as if the weapon carrier had been driven up onto a rock and then been forcible dragged off it, bending the frame, no less, in the process.  No easy money here.

Finally, he made his way over to the only real prize in The Barn, the Clint.  He’d been coming to The Barn for years to buy up surplus equipment and resell it on the local market, and even occasionally to the Lyran market at large if the profit margin was high enough.  But it was unusual for the Academy to be selling an intact BattleMech, in fact, he couldn’t recall the last time they’d sold one.  Or even if they’d ever sold one.  But one thing was true.  Nothing, absolutely nothing, was more profitable than BattleMechs.  If he could score this thing, he could probably set himself up for life.

An older man clad in tartan was walking away from it as he came up.  Hopping into the lift, the first thing he noticed were the weapons were all intact.  Driving the lift over to the right arm he was shocked to see the exposed innards of a heavy laser.  A real military grade heavy laser.  Poking around, he located the identification plate.

Model:  ERHL-600
Serial #:  10057865
Firmir Weaponry
Betelgeuse, Capellan Confederation
7-May-3047


He whistled.  Damn.  This was the real deal.  Looking down at his datapad, he saw where the Clint was also reported to have two medium class lasers as well.  Normally the datasheets the Academy provided were based off some ancient database of fixed assets that hadn’t been updated for decades.  The LT-25’s had shown they carried heavy machine guns which, naturally, were no longer there.

Maneuvering the lift over to the chest he began looking around.  Sure enough, a medium class laser.  It seemed to be contained in some kind of sophisticated shock mount that including a three-axis gimbal.  A little investigation revealed it was an Abderdovey Mk. II out of Tematagi in the Free Worlds League.  He located a second, identical one, a few minutes later.

Leaning back against the handrail of the lift, he brought up a vidlink to his partner.  “Yo, Ozzie!  I got the real deal down here at The Barn.  I’m looking at a fully armed 40-ton Clint BattleMech.  I’ve just started checking it over, but I can tell you already this thing is a freaking prize.  If we manage to get our hands on this thing, we’ll make more money than even you know what to do with.  Check all of our accounts.  I want to know exactly how much cash we can pull together to throw at this thing.  Hit me back as soon as you can, this things goes on the block in about three hours!”

---

Balthazar Lyons surreptitiously cataloged all of the goings on around the 40-ton Clint that dominated the warehouse as he examined the numerous piles of surplus scrap with feigned interest, waiting for the auction to begin.  Five different individuals had given it a thorough inspection.  Two of which were local, the other three being offworlders. 

Of the two locals, the local junk dealer was unimportant, but the fact that Ballard Kundrin was here told him everything he needed to know.  Kundrin was an undercover ComStar ROM agent and the fact that he had stuck around after checking out the Clint all but confirmed his own suspicions.  This was the Clint he was looking for.

One of the offworlders was almost certainly a member of the Northwind Highlanders judging from both his dress and accent.  One was a Free Trader, undoubtedly acting as an agent for some other organization, and the last, a woman, was an unknown.

Seeing the Clint unoccupied, he made he made his way over to the lift next to it.  With a few deft motions, he stood looking into the cockpit.  Climbing in, he verified the serial number, and withdrawing a small unremarkable black plastic rectangle from his pocket, he fixed it underneath the main instrumentation cluster.

If he couldn’t have this Clint, no one would.

May Blake be praised.

---

snakespinner

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Re: Fragged (Collected Short Stories and Orphaned Writings)
« Reply #83 on: 11 November 2015, 10:36:36 »
Comstar, like a spoiled brat, if I can't have it no one will. :D
I wish I could get a good grip on reality, then I would choke it.
Growing old is inevitable,
Growing up is optional.
Watching TrueToaster create evil genius, priceless...everything else is just sub-par.

ckosacranoid

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Re: Fragged (Collected Short Stories and Orphaned Writings)
« Reply #84 on: 11 November 2015, 20:00:26 »
Talk about the bidding war that is going to go on with this and T least someone from comstar not going to play nice at all.....

DOC_Agren

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Re: Fragged (Collected Short Stories and Orphaned Writings)
« Reply #85 on: 12 November 2015, 14:39:02 »
Fixed this
ComstarWOB, like a spoiled brat, if I can't have it no one will. :D
"For the Angel of Death spread his wings on the blast, And breathed in the face of the foe as he passed:And the eyes of the sleepers waxed deadly and chill, And their hearts but once heaved, and for ever grew still!"

Sigil

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Re: Fragged (Collected Short Stories and Orphaned Writings)
« Reply #86 on: 12 November 2015, 17:03:57 »
Fixed this

I was hoping someone was going to pick up on the Wobbie :)  Thx Doc!

Sigil

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Through a Mirror Dimly - Chapter 7
« Reply #87 on: 13 November 2015, 15:24:41 »
Chapter 7

Warrant Officer First Class Raquel Stroud paced tight circles in her cramped room.  Sergeant Goddard was stationed just outside her door, enforcing the Captain’s orders that she be confined to quarters.  Her mind was racing as she continued to struggle not with what happened but why.

She shouldn’t have even been the one piloting the Clint to The Barn in the first place!  She’d assigned that duty to one of the technicians in her team! 

But try as she might, she couldn’t vanquish the rush of her short time in the cockpit.  The speed, the pure acceleration, the thrill of enemies defeated and the feeling of invulnerability that only comes with 40-tons of military hardware strapped around you.  She’d forgotten those feelings.  Had pushed them out of her memory.  She hadn’t been in a ‘Mech combat simulation for almost 10 years, since she’d been transferred out of the MechWarrior program at the War College of Buena.

She was surprised to discover she suddenly craved more.  She wanted more.  She needed more.  It was like a shot of heroin.  Having tried it once, all she could think about was getting back into that ride.  But not just any ride, that ride.  It had to be Rose.

Lingering at the edge of her consciousness, just out of sight, was the nagging feeling that Rose needed her somehow.  That Rose needed to her to do something.  That there was a purpose, a design, behind everything that had happened, and even though it was outside of her understanding, it didn’t change that fact that it was there.  Rose needed her just as much as she needed Rose.

Her time at Sanglamore was effectively over.  Even if she was cleared of all charges, she would never be fully trusted again.  Pushed to the side, assigned menial, unimportant tasks, she’d reached the end of the line here.

What she needed were answers.  And there was only one place she was going to find them.

In the cockpit of Rose.

She hated to do it.  Part of her was shocked that she would even consider it.  But, in truth, she had the training for it.  She was fair in hand-to-hand combat and had sharpened those skills during her time with the 17th Donegal Guards.  Forward deployed to support the regiment’s BattleMech as they fought against Clan Steel Viper, the Vipers had surprised everyone by launching a massive artillery strike against their position then flooded them with Toads.  She’d come face to face with Clan Battle Armor.  Lost soldiers in her support group to their vicious mini-guns.

She shook her head.  She hated remembering.  There was nothing to be gained by looking back, it was the future she must be focused on now.

It would only take a handful of seconds.  One, maybe two, well placed strikes were all she needed.

Part of her continued to scream that this was madness but it was ultimately drowned out by the strange sense of urgency she felt. 

Steeling herself, she flung the door to her room open, sending an open-palm strike into the Sergeant Goddard’s solar plexus.  Her left hand followed with a vicious uppercut to his chin leaving the Sergeant out cold. 

Quickly dragging him back into her room, she bound and gagged his unconscious form then headed quickly down the hallway to her rendezvous with destiny.

---

Balthazar Lyons watched as the auction progressed.  The assorted detritus had gone quickly, without much bidding, one lot after another.  The local junk dealer had snapped up anything with even the possibility of residual value for next to nothing.  A metal recycler had taken most everything else, Sanglamore seeming more interested in simply getting rid of the stuff than actually making any money.

Predictably, the last item on the block was the Clint.  Out of the five people he’d been watching only one, the junk dealer, had bid on anything up to this point.  They were all waiting for the same thing.

The auctioneer opened the bidding at 2.5 million Kroners, which was roughly equivalent to 5 million C-bills.  The junk dealer and the woman were first into the fray, running it up to 4 million before the dealer bowed out.  The Highlander jumped in next , dueling with the woman as the price to rose 5.5 million Kroners, at which point she dropped out of the bidding as well.

The Free Trader stepped in next, sending the bidding up to 7 million Kroners as the Highlander refused to back down.  The list value for the BattleMech was only about 5.75 million Kroners, and the fact that it had exceeded that just added to his certainty that this Clint was indeed far more than it appeared.

A three-way battle began as the Kundrin, the ComStar agent, finally joined the bidding.  8 million.  9 million, as it crested 10 million Kroners, even the auctioneer began looking shaken as the small crowd of people gathered for the auction began to murmur.

For his own part, he’d already decided the wisest course of action would be to destroy the thing, rather than try and buy it for an exorbitant amount of money.  And if Kundrin won the bidding, he’d literally get to kill two birds with one stone.

Blake was smiling upon him.

---

Gunnery Instructor Jeff Hamilton rolled into his longtime friend Professor Weddle’s office.  “Hey man, you seen this yet?”  Weddle looked up from his terminal just in time to catch the datapad Hamilton had chucked his way.  “All the cadets are talking about it.  Some crazy technician chick took Sigil’s old Clint out and ran it through the Gauntlet.  She kicked some serious ass.” 

Hamilton whistled as he shook his head.  “Just watch it dude, it’s like seeing a ghost.”  Standing there smirking, he gesticulated to the datapad.

Weddle activated it, the video starting shortly thereafter.  He watched as Sigil’s old Clint sprinted, leapt, spun, and juked, all the while laying down a deadly field of fire.  BattleMech after BattleMech fell to its combination of mobility and accuracy. 

The speeds it reached were phenomenal, the metrics showing it topping out at 151.2 kph.  But the ambushing of the Phoenix Hawk is what really caught his attention.  As a Professor of Tactics and Strategy and a veteran of the Gauntlet himself, it was one of the ballsiest and most unexpected plays he’d ever seen.

It was an incredible run, but he was all too familiar with the ambush that lay in wait for the Clint next.  It was what had brought his own T-bolt down when he’d attempted the run.  The combination of heavy missile fire from the Crusader and Gauss rifle slugs from the Victor had finally overwhelmed his Thunderbolt within sight of the objective.  He had no doubt they would eviscerate the thin-skinned Clint.

Which is why he was amazed when the Clint shifted in mid-air a split second before the hidden units unleashed their apocalyptic fusillade, managing to avoid the worst of the damage.  But his jaw dropped when the Clint powered ahead, and past, the heavy and assault class ‘Mechs to make it into the final valley. 

Then the impossible happened.  A pair of aerospace fighters accompanied by homing Arrow IV missiles obliterated the enemy commander’s Archer even as the Clint was finally destroyed by a massive volley of LRMs and heavy laser fire.

He looked up in shock at Hamilton, who was still standing there grinning like a schoolboy. 

Hamilton chirped up, “Ya, that’s right.  She freakin’ BEAT the Gauntlet!  The last time I saw a ‘Mech move like that was on Damian, when Sigil was driving that thing.”

Weddle nodded now looking shaken.  “If I hadn’t seen his dead body myself, I would have sworn the pilot in there was him.  Who would have guessed TAG was the secret?  I bet no one else has ever tried TAG on that run!  Genius!  Did you say that pilot was a technician?”

Hamilton chuckled, “Ya, Warrant Officer Raquel Stroud.  She’s a BattleTech technician.  No one really seems to know much about her.  She was a hired a couple years ago, really no stories about her out there.  Rumor is she’s under house arrest and confined to quarters now, though.”

Then Hamilton looked a little queer as he dropped his voice.  “You know what’s REALLY weird?  She looks just like Julianna Rose, that ComStar Adept who almost killed us all on back on Talisker.  Got the red hair, same frame and everything, just looks a little bit older.”

---

Warrant Officer Stroud moved quickly and efficiently out of the barracks, commandeering a 4x4 conveniently parked just outside as she emerged.  Hopping in, she headed straight for The Barn, fighting the urge to stomp on the accelerator.  It was only a matter of time before her escape would be discovered, and when it was, she wanted 40-ton tons of steel around her.

Heart racing, she approached The Barn, relieved to see the auction was still ongoing.  Behind the auctioneer, the Clint stood exactly where she’d left her.  A few scattered Sanglamore security officers were present as well, keeping an eye on the proceedings.  Pulling the jeep up behind The Barn, she leapt up on the loading dock at the rear of the large building.  While the massive bay doors were closed, there was a smaller personnel entrance adjacent to it.

Finding it unlocked, she slipped quietly into the back of The Barn.  Using the various piles of surplus gear and the chassis of the APCs and weapon carriers to help cover her movements, she made her way towards the back of the Clint. 

As a technician, she had climbed up the outside of a plethora of BattleMechs unassisted.  Some actually had handholds built onto them, but most did not and the Clint was one of those.  And even of those that did, they were usually located on the front, not the back of the ‘Mech.  There was also a  lift next to it, and for a second she considered using it, but quickly discarded the idea.  The lift would give her away instantly.  With a bit of luck, climbing up the rear would conceal her presence for a few previous moments.  Hopefully long enough for her to reach the cockpit.

Taking a deep breath, she broke from behind one of the LT-25s, grappling the back of the Clint’s right leg and beginning to climb.  All of her previous experience served her well, as her hands and feet found purchase on flanges, vents, the junctions of armor plates, joints, and access hatches, propelling her quickly towards the head.

Half way up Rose’s back, she was only mildly surprised to feel the BattleMech rumble to life under her and hear the hissing of the canopy hydraulics.

She smiled. 

So Rose had been expecting her after all.

---

ckosacranoid

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Re: Fragged (Collected Short Stories and Orphaned Writings)
« Reply #88 on: 13 November 2015, 19:35:57 »
Talk about things are going to really hit the fan after this chapter. This is going to intresting.

snakespinner

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Re: Fragged (Collected Short Stories and Orphaned Writings)
« Reply #89 on: 13 November 2015, 19:48:13 »
Well that really stuffs up a good auction if someone steals the mech. :D
I wonder if Rose will mention the explosives or will WO Stroud think she's sitting on a overinflated whoopee cushion. >:D
I wish I could get a good grip on reality, then I would choke it.
Growing old is inevitable,
Growing up is optional.
Watching TrueToaster create evil genius, priceless...everything else is just sub-par.

 

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