BattleTech - The Board Game of Armored Combat
BattleTech Player Boards => Non-Canon Units => Topic started by: Deadborder on 28 January 2021, 07:13:47
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This is a little concept I've been mashing around now, but has only recently come to the forefront. So here you go.
Long-time readers may see a few familiar faces.
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Irisz Magyari
Position/Rank: Major
Affiliation/Unit: Mercenary/Magyari’s Irregulars
Birth Year: 3110
In many ways, Irisz Magyari was born to be a mercenary and a MechWarrior. Her family had led the same unit for four generations before her, and in each case, they had done so from the cockpit of a BattleMech. Irisz was no exception, and was raised with the expectation that she would follow in her family’s footsteps. And while she was raised in a time of peace, she wholeheartedly embraced her destiny and did her best to prepare for it.
Through her family’s contacts, was enrolled at the Lyons School of Combat Preparedness. While there, she displayed an aptitude for BattleMech combat and operations, as well as a degree of tactical flexibility and adaption that often surprised not only her fellow cadets but also her instructors. One of her key traits was a willingness to listen to her subordinates, follow their advice and, where needed, give them the freedom to act on their own initiative. These traits saw her score a number of victories through exercises through rapid reactions and responses, as well as being willing to change her plan on the fly.
Just as importantly, she also began to develop a network of contacts and allies that she would build on over the decades to come. Once she joined her family’s unit, she began to further exploit the skills she had developed, finding allies among the mercenary trade, and then beyond that into the industries that supported it. This network would come to serve her well in a variety of ways, from gathering intelligence to supporting her unit.
Her early career was marked by the HPG Blackout and the subsequent rise in conflict across the Inner Sphere. At that point, Irisz was a lieutenant in the family unit, a position that was intended to be used to train her up so that she could one day take over its command. She quickly gained practical experience as the unit took on various contracts, especially in the rapidly escalating conflicts within the Republic of the Sphere. At the same time, the skills she had developed during her academy days proved to be a success on the battlefield. The most notable example came on Basalt in 3134 where she wound up saving Bors Magyari, her father and the unit’s commander, from a Steel Wolf ambush that nearly cost him his life.
While the expectation was that she would take command of the unit eventually, that day ended up coming a lot sooner than expected. In 3135, Bors took a leave of absence to deal with what he called ‘personal matters’. Irisz was named interim commander, with the expectation that she would hand back control of the unit after his return. Instead, Bors was apparently trapped behind the walls of Fortress Republic, unable to escape. With no recourse, she took control of the unit full time.
However, she discovered that thanks to her father’s less than spectacular management, the unit was actually deeply in debt. This forced her to engage in a vicious cost-cutting which saw the unit shrink as she trimmed off under-performing units. Along the way, she also removed several of her fathers’ allies who had largely been there based on personal friendships rather than actual skill. In their place she elevated her own allies, including her cousin, Nikola Kardos, who was both a capable MechWarrior and a skilled scout and investigator.
The early 3140s would prove to be a busy time for the unit as they took on a number of high-profile contracts. While risky, a combination of good planning and Irisz’ willingness to let her subordinates act on their own initiative saw the unit achieve a number of victories. These were enabled by often unconventional tactics and the use of covert operations by her men to weaken or disrupt their enemies before anyone fired a shot.
A frequent target of these contracts was the Wolf Empire. Over the course of several years, the Irregulars disrupted production on several worlds, destroyed a prototype OmniMech and helped to ferment rebellions on several of their worlds, all while escaping with relatively light damage. Their actions became so galling that the Empire sent a unit after the Irregulars to hunt them down. Instead, the result was a one-sided defeat of the Wolf forces.
On a more personal level, Irisz also became embroiled with the multi-generational, one-sided feud between her unit and Raymond’s Roughnecks. Another family-owned mercenary unit, the Raymond clan had grievances with her own family that went back over a century. Irisz’ attempts to avoid them ultimately failed, drawing her unit into conflict with the Roughnecks. This cumulated in the battle of Hindmarsh in 3148, which saw the Roughnecks functionally destroyed, albeit at the cost of bloodying the Irregulars.
In the two years since then, Irisz has again rebuilt her unit and continued to take contracts to support them. These have included a number of attacks on the Wolf Empire, which have been driven by the unit’s past successes against the Clan and its holdings. Behind the scenes, she has also begun building a network of allies among the mercenary trade, but to what end remains unknown.
Mad Cat Mk IV Invisible Space Fairy
Mass: 75 tons
Chassis: Type W4 Endo Steel
Powerplant: Model 49B 375 XXL
Cruising Speed: 54 kph
Maximum Speed: 86 kph
Jump Jets: None
Jump Capacity: None
Armour: Composite Alpha-V1 Ferro-Lamellor
Armament:
2 Type 22 Extended-Range PPCs
4 Smartshot Mk.IV Streak SRM-6
Comm System: Khan Series (Type 6C)
T&T System: Series XIV OPT
Like all the commanders of the Irregulars, Irisz Mgyari has lead from the front of the unit in the cockpit of a BattleMech. When she became the interim commander of the unit, she also took control of her father’s MAD-9M2 Marauder. While powerful, this BattleMech would only last her three years until an incident on Alexandria where it was destroyed in conflict with an unknown force. Information recovered from the wreckage, as well as Irisz’ own accounts, described a colossal, three-legged ‘Mech that towered over hers, one that has since been identified as a Republic Ares.
In order to replace her lost BattleMech, Irisz leaned on her contacts to find something suitable. This lead to her acquiring a brand new Mad Cat Mk IV from the Sea Foxes; while the ‘Mech was expensive, Irisz used her BattleROMs of the unknown giant ‘Mech to sweeten the deal. The only dissenter against the purchase was her chief technician, Cecelia Stanley, who simply didn’t want to have work with Sea Fox proprietary parts while being dependent on them for supplies.
Complaints aside, the combination of her own skills and her willingness to push the machine to its limits proved to be a successful one. Her Mad Cat Mk IV would often be the front and center of attacks, with its advanced armour allowing it to shrug off damage that should have crippled it. On a few occasions she would get into the middle of a fight and unleash swarms of Streak SRMs on enemies all around her, seemingly effortlessly engaging multiple opponents.
Aside from her successes as a part of a larger engagement, she has also used the BattleMech in more focused engagements. On Ashburton, she defeated Wolf Empire ristar Lucius Radrik, easily matching and overcoming his Warwolf in single combat. On Hindmarsh she bought a definitive end to the long-standing family feud through her defeat of Connie Raymond and the destruction of her Falconer. Knowing who she was up against, Irisz swapped her Extended Range PPCs for Large Pulse Lasers, allowing her to offset her more mobile opponent.
For reasons known only to herself, she named the ‘Mech Invisible Space Fairy. While some might find the title odd, few could question her effectiveness with it.
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Antonin Rybak
Position/Rank: Ghost Knight
Affiliation/Unit: Republic of the Sphere
Birth Year: 3101
Antonin Rybak is a case where while it is clear who he is working for, but what he is intending is another matter. He may be engaged in some larger plan at the behest of his leaders, or he may have abandoned that path to serve his own aims. Or it is possible that he was entirely acting on his own all along.
Much of his past is, for the moment, unclear, hidden behind layers of secrecy and, of course, the walls of Fortress Republic. As best as can be determined, Antonin was born on Archenar in the Republic of the Sphere to a resettled family of Free Worlds origins. He enrolled with he Republic Armed Forces in order to earn his citizenship, where testing showed that he had the potential to become a skilled MechWarrior. However, that did not quite come to be.
Instead, he was recruited into the shadowy world of the Republic’s intelligence services. His record becomes unclear after that, but several instances stand out. In 3127, he was involved in the destruction of a kuroryu-kai cell on Quentin who were aiming to funnel BattleMech parts from Independence weaponry. Likewise in 3130, he was integral to the elimination of the Stolz Manner, a pro-Lyran terror group on Glengarry that likely had Loki backing.
However, after the Blackout in August 3132, his actions become somewhat more questionable. He travelled to a number of worlds in the Republic including Imbross III, Van Diemen IV, Mara and Fletcher, where he apparently recruited his own freelance operatives for reasons that can only be guessed at. Several of these agents would go ‘live’ in the next two years, where they were involved in the disruption of operations by the various splinter factions that had emerged. Some of them were trained MechWarriors, however it is unclear if these were pre-existing skills or if he trained them himself.
Following the declaration of Fortress Republic, Antonin was left outside the walls. Once again, it is uncertain if this was an oversight, a deliberate act or his own personal choice. For the next five years, he would work with his remaining operatives as the Republic Territories continued to shrink. In some cases, they would be working against the invading forces looking to reclaim the Republic’s worlds, but in others, they seemed to be following other agendas. In many cases, his movements were disguised through his posing as a mercenary ‘gunslinger’ MechWarrior, operating under several aliases.
By 3140, most of his personal operatives had gone dark, either dead or simply dropping out of sight. Antonin himself continued to be active, usually working on his own either covertly or more openly by continuing his mercenary MechWarrior guise. During this time he was never once seen in the Republic Remnant nor cooperating with its forces, fueling speculation that he may have gone rogue. For several years his operations seemed to focus on the Wolf Empire before he simply vanished altogether in late 3145.
While presumed dead, the truth was more complicated. For the last five years, he apparently was working within Galatea’s underworld, building a network of contacts across all levels of the mercenary trade, looking for those with experience fighting the Clans or working with the Republic, while deliberately avoiding his few remaining operatives. What remains unclear is his overall goal; if he is working towards affecting an inevitable conflict, or planning for what comes after it.
Phoenix Hawk IIC 4 Grace
Mass: 80 tons
Chassis: DSAM 4
Powerplant: Type 79 40 XL
Cruising Speed: 54 kph
Maximum Speed: 86 kph
Jump Jets: Grandthrust Mk 5
Jump Capacity: 150 meters
Armour: Forging AM15 Ferro Fiberous
Armament:
4 Type 9 Series Advanced Tactical Missile Systems
Comm System: MegaBand System 21
T&T System: DTrack Suite 4
Much like the man who pilots it, there are a lot of gaps in the history of Antonin Ryback’s Phoenix Hawk IIC. Originally it belonged to Shigeru Kodo, a Solaris VII gladiator and scion of a wealthy New Kyoto family before his downfall and barring from the Games World in 3128. The Republic confiscated the BattleMech when he tried to flee back to his homeworld, presumably to be turned over to the RAF or simply destroyed.
Instead it disappeared into the system, seemingly vanishing from sight. During that time it was apparently repurposed by Republic intelligence and assigned to Antonin Rybak for his own use. He would take the BattleMech with him, using the organization’s assets to arrange its transport, when he began his apparently personal operation following the Blackout.
It would not resurface until 3134 on Van Diemen IV, where it was used in a battle with pirate forces and being controlled by Ryback. Over the next six years it would be seen a number of times across the former Republic, in each case being used by him under one of his aliases. During this time, the BattleMech would also be redecorated numerous times, and equipped with false serial numbers and other tags to further confuse its identity and origins.
While primarily an intelligence agent, Rybak is still a trained and capable MechWarrior and has proven to be willing to take to the field in order to support his own agendas. When he does take to the field, he prefers to take advantage of the ‘Mech’s mobility, rarely engaging in stand-up fights.
The BattleMech’s original owner nicknamed it Grace, a designation that Rybak has continued to use. However, his various aliases have also renamed the BattleMech as well to further confuse its origins.
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Guest character courtesy of Rantinan
Tony Jaros
Position/Rank: None
Affiliation/Unit: Mercenary/None
Birth Year: 3110
Depending on one’s point of view, Tony Jaros is a good (or bad) case of rising from nothing and reaping what you sow. Tony was born on Kawich to a working-class family that barely existed above the poverty line. Despite his circumstances, he was unwilling to do what was needed to become a Republic citizen, having developed a deep-seated distrust of authority at an early age. Instead, he existed on the fringes of society, getting by as a delivery boy in Pahute, an industrial city noted for its high crime rates.
Almost inevitably he fell into a life of crime. Tony joined the Santos, a local street gang, in his teenage years. He rose quickly thanks to a combination of physical skills, charisma and determination that saw him engage in acts of violence with an almost gleeful relish. A list of his alleged crimes included assault, intimidation, car theft, drive-by shootings, smuggling, drug dealing and taking part in underground IndustrialMech fights.
The Blackout saw an immediate spike in crime within the city as the Republic’s economy collapsed. Gang violence rapidly escalated as the Santos went to war with its rivals for control of the city’s underworld, with Tony in the frontlines of this conflict. By the middle of 3133, he had managed to drive his rivals out of the city, after leaving a trail of destruction in his wake. Along the way, had not only been responsible for the death of Mayor Alexander Kurgan, but had executed the leader of the Santos and taken control of the gang itself.
This campaign of violence did not go unnoticed. Through Mastrovika agents planted on-world, the Capellan Confederation became aware of Tony Jaros and his activities, and saw them as a way to aid their own cause. After making contact with him through Bannson Universal, the Confederation arranged for Jaros and his gang to receive shipments of weapons and supplies, including BattleMechs. Their aim was to use Jaros to tie up the Republic forces on-world and pave the way for its eventual conquest by the Confederation.
Tony agreed to this deal; while he had no love for the Confederation, he instead saw it as a fast route to his own personal power and wealth. Now armed with millitary-grade equipment and transformed into something that more resembled a pirate band then a street gang, the Santos began a campaign of armed insurgence against the RAF garrison and local authorities. Already on the back foot, the RAF were forced to functionally abandon the city after suffering severe losses to Tony’s band. After the formation of Fortress Republic, the isolated remnants of the RAF simply chose to consolidate their remaining forces and abandon any hope of reclaiming the city.
This suited Tony fine. For the next three years, he and his band controlled Pahute, turning it into their own private city state. Under their control, crime and vice thrived, with a slice of everything going directly into Tony’s pockets. Any who refused to yield could expect to face anything from armed thugs to having a BattleMech step on their house. Tony himself indulged his own success, living a high life of alcohol and drugs while seemingly sporting a new boyfriend each week.
Everything changed n 3138 when the Capellan Confederation came conquer the world. At first, the Santos and the CCAF worked together to defeat the remaining RAF holdouts and claim control of the world. However, the Capellan occupying forces quickly found that a leaving half the planet in the hands of a band of celebrity criminals did not sit well with their ideals for an orderly society.
Tensions arose between the two groups as the Capellans tried to put a brake on Tony and the Santos. Not willing to give up his power, and with his gang backing him, Tony pushed back, determined to retain control of his territory and its assets. As a way to assert control, the CCAF requested that the Santos hand over their loaned weapons, which naturally they refused. The Capellans then tried to force the issue, which led to armed conflict between the two groups.
While at first the Santos had the advantage of home ground, the Capellans were simply better-equipped, better trained and, above all else, outnumbered their opponents. Tony’s gang were pushed back, leading to a number of casualties among their ranks. Following the death of his longtime second, Jenny Zhen, Tony realized that he was not going to win this fight. Rather, he chose to flee, with his remaining forces stealing a dropship from Pahute spaceport and then using it to hijack a jumpship out of system.
For the next three years they would blaze a trail of destruction across the Confederation, raiding worlds as an act of vengeance for their betrayal. Eventually, what was left of his group arrived on Galatea, where they chose to break up and join the mercenary trade as individuals. Tony would serve as a freelance ‘gunslinger’, bringing his own expertise to whatever unit would take him.
MNL-3L Mangonel (Modified) Penetrator
Mass: 70 tons
Chassis: AR-7b Endo Steel
Powerplant: Magna 350 Light
Cruising Speed: 54 kph
Maximum Speed: 86 kph
Jump Jets: None
Jump Capacity: None
Armour: Royal-7 Ferro-Fiberous
Armament:
2 Corean Light Gauss Rifles
4 Diverse Optics Extended-Range Medium Lasers
Comm System: K9 Comms System
T&T System: Type V Bloodhound
Tony’s Mangonel has something of a colourful past, which is oddly suitable given its pilot.
The BattleMech was purchased new from Arc-Royal MechWorks in 3085 for the nascent RAF as a part of its rearmament. For the next three decades, it would serve in the Republic’s forces, before being disabled and abandoned during the Capellan Crusades. While the CCAF were able to salvage it, they chose not to return it to service or simply scrap it for parts. Rather, they rebuilt the ‘Mech, equipping it with an XL gyro to add much needed ammunition and armour, and assigned it to their hidden reserves against future use.
When the Capellans chose to arm the Santos, the rebuilt Mangonel was one of the machines chosen to be a part of the deal. Unwanted by the CCAF (who didn’t otherwise use the design) and not immediately traceable to them, it was seen as both being expendable while also impressive enough to demonstrate their good faith to their prospective partners. As the heaviest ‘Mech in the weapons lot, it was claimed by Tony Jaros as his own.
In his hands, Penetrator (as he dubbed the machine) became an instrument of terror in his war for control of Pahute. More than capable of dealing with police forces and MilitaMechs, it also gave a good accounting against the RAF planetary guard’s equipment. Tony’s own skills as a marksman made the most of its long-range capabilities, allowing him to land shots long before his enemies were able to respond. Following his successful takeover of the city, he used Penetrator as a way to get around; the sight of the huge BattleMech outside a casino or nightclub was far from uncommon.
Penetrator survived the near-destruction of the Santos at the hands of the CCAF and their subsequent flight and campaign of vengeance. Since arriving on Galatea, Tony has continued to use the BattleMech in his mercenary career.
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Tag!
( Yeah, a new adventure! )
TT
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Interesting. At least one familiar face.
Very interesting...
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Tag.
Remember Irisz from your previous story. :thumbsup:
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Terry McKinnon
Position/Rank: Lieutenant
Affiliation/Unit: Mercenary/McKinnon’s Marauders
Birth Year: 3115
The McKinnon family have been mercenaries since before the fall of the Star League, with the family tradition unlikely to change so as long as the trade exists. Since the Third Succession War, they have commanded a family unit, McKinnon’s Marauders; while it has been nearly destroyed several times, it has managed to come back from the brink each time.
Terry McKinnon is a potential heir to that tradition, albeit in an unplanned manner. While serving a garrison contract on Irurzun, Thomas McKinnon had an affair with Mary Garr, a local researcher who was assigned to one of the sites the Marauders were protecting. Unknown to him, she had a son, Terry, who was born after the Marauders had left the world. Mary and her husband, Warren, raised him, with the truth of his parentage known only to her.
At sixteen, Terry Garr, joined the DCMS, where he showed an aptitude for BattleMech combat. Following the HPG blackout he was assigned to a recon lance in the 17th Benjamin Regulars, who had rotated into the Draconis Reach. The constant fighting in the region had escalated following the Blackout, with both states seeking to full claim control of the region for their own as a prelude to a broader campaign.
Here he would have his first taste of real combat. On Wapakoneta, his recon lance were ambushed by Sandoval-backed mercenaries outside the city of Green Bay. After his Chu-i was killed in the first strike, Terry took command of the lance and rallied the survivors. Using his Panther’s mobility, he harried and distracted the attackers, keeping them pinned down and unable to either eliminate the rest of his lance or disengage. This bought the 17th enough time to send reinforcements and destroy the enemy force, pushing them back from the Green Bay region.
Warren Garr was killed in 3139, an accidental victim of gang violence who was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. The subsequent investigation revealed that Terry was not his son. Shocked by this revelation, Terry confronted his mother and learned the truth about his parentage. Armed with this knowledge, he resigned his commission from the DCMS, and set off to find his father. His actions were driven by no small degree of anger, both at his father’s seeming abandonment and his mother’s concealment.
In 3141 he arrived on Galatea, and made contact with McKinnon’s Marauders. While he was able to provide Thomas McKinnon with proof of his identity, the situation was made more awkward when Thomas revealed that he not only was married, but also had a legitimate son, Damien, born in 3108. None the less, Thomas felt a degree of responsibility, and hired Terry as a member of the unit while agreeing to make amends towards his mother.
Despite being hired due to his parentage, Terry proved himself to be a capable MechWarrior in his own right. This won him support within the unit, but also no small degree of enmity from his half-brother who felt somewhat embarrassed and even threatened by his existence. A part of the problem was that Damien had been named as Thomas’ heir, and was at the time believed to be his only child. As such, he saw him as a potential rival for his position.
Despite this problem, Terry proved to be not only a skilled MechWarrior, but also loyal to the unit and the family’s legacy. While his name granted him a position as an officer, he worked hard to prove he was worthy of the position on his own merits. Following Thomas McKinnon’s retirement in 3148, Damien took control of the unit. This led to something of an easing of the tension between the two as it became clear that Terry had no ambitions to take Damien’s place.
Recently, Terry has been involved with Irisz Magyari’s growing alliance of mercenaries, operating on his own rather than as a representative of his unit as a whole. The two are also rumored to be romantically linked, although if this is out of mutual attraction or some plan for a mercenary dynastic union is unclear.
PXH-9 Phoenix Hawk Shadow
Mass: 45 tons
Chassis: Earthworks PXH II Endo Steel
Powerplant: Hermes 270 XL
Cruising Speed: 64 kph
Maximum Speed: 96 kph
Jump Jets: 45i Improved Jump jets
Jump Capacity: 240 meters
Armour: Durallex Light with CASE II
Armament:
Diverse Optics Type 35PX Large X-Pulse Laser
2 Harmon Medium Lasers
2 Sperry/Browning Machine Guns
Comm System: Tek Battlecomm
T&T System: Tek Tru-Track
Arriving on Galatea with no BattleMech of his own put Terry McKinnon at an immediate disadvantage. While his father did embrace him, there was also only so much that he could do to support his son. He was provided with a decades-old PXH-3M Phoenix Hawk that they had salvaged during a prior contract. Terry was none the less grateful for the BattleMech, which allowed him to capitalize on his prior experience with lighter ‘Mechs.
Terry used the BattleMech for his first few years with the Marauders, often pushing it to the limits of its mobility while aggressively riding its heat curve. Despite his skills, the BattleMech was destroyed in 3145 fighting against the CCAF on Haappajarvi while he was attempting to slow their advance and cover the Marauders’ retreat.
Following this loss, the ‘Mech was replaced with a new PXH-9 model, with Terry preferring the greater mobility of the design. He quickly learned to take advantage of these traits to flank and harry enemy forces while making himself an elusive target. These maneuvers allowed him to pin enemy forces into place and in turn make them easy targets for the rest of his lance.
With the Marauders’ recent involvement in Fontaine Marik’s war on the Marian Hegemony, Terry had ample opportunity to prove his skills. During the invasion of Illyria, his ‘Mech proved to be a lethal force in the Cadmus megaforests, leaping and harrying opponents who were hampered by the dense terrain. His mobility allowed him to claim a number of kills on heavier ‘Mechs, including a Marian Goliath piloted by a senior I Legio officer.
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Ivar Grodenko
Position/Rank: MechWarrior
Affiliation/Unit: Federated Suns/Unknown Unit
Birth Year: 3108
Ivar Grodenko is an interesting case of the twists that a man’s life can carry him through. While his family on Buchalu were outwardly poor, working class laborers, his father was in fact a lieutenant within one of the world’s organized crime syndicates. Ivar was raised with a mixture of deprivation, brutality and the promise of a better life following in his father’s footsteps. Rather, when his father was killed in 3130 during a bout of intercede fighting, Ivar seemingly disappeared.
He resurfaced in 3133 as Ivar Wolf, now a member of the Steel Wolves on Fletcher. Why he had chosen to embrace the Clan lifestyle is unclear, but it might have been as much about protection from his enemies as anything else. Ivar’s combination of drive and brutality saw him win a place as a MechWarrior within the Wolf Lancers cluster. Initially his future with the Steel Wolves looked promising, with Ivar taking part in several battles during their early campaigns.
Despite this lead, he was instead left as a part of the Steel Wolves’ skeletal garrison forces left behind to defend their holdings while Anastasia Kerensky sought greater glory. When the bulk of the Steel Wolves instead fled to Prefecture IX following her failed effort to attack Terra, Ivar and his cohorts held their ground, confident that their leader would one day return. The declaration of Fortress Republic in late 3135 saw them dig in even further, confident that their day would come.
Instead much of the surrounding region was quietly and peacefully absorbed by the Federated Suns, while the Steel Wolves showed no signs of returning to protect their holdings. After being forced to disarm, the remaining Steel Wolves on Fletcher began to break up, either abandoning their posts or seeking other opportunities. For his part, Ivar fell back on his roots, integrating himself into the planet’s underworld, specifically its underground BattleMech duelling circuit.
The Capellan conquest if the world saw crackdown on such activities, leaving Ivar Wolf isolated and frustrated at his circumstances. Things would change for him with the arrival of Magyari’ Irregulars on-world in 3145 as a part of a raiding contract, aimed at destabilizing the CCAF presence there. Looking to exploit local assets, the mercenaries made contact with Ivar, who in turn aided them in the destruction of several Capellan stockpiles. They gave him two things in return; the first was a chance to pilot a BattleMech again, and the second was a ticket off-world.
Ivar Wolf returned to Galatea with the unit, but what happened to him after that is somewhat unclear. He was actively searching for employment on the mercenary market for a short period, but then seemingly dropped out of sight before ever signing on to a unit.
He would not be seen again until late 3147 in the Federated Suns. Having reclaimed his family name, Ivar was a part of a small group operating in AFFS colours but not identified with any unit. Highly mobile, this command has been roaming worlds occupied by both the Capellan Confederation and Draconis Combine, striking at supply depots, command centers and other resources. While initially presumed to be the remnants of a destroyed command, such as those lost on Palmyra, several of the seemingly brand-new BattleMechs within their ranks suggests that they may have Sea Fox backing. However, why and what the mercantile Clan would be getting out of the deal is a mystery.
Likewise, it is unclear why Ivar is fighting for the Federated Suns, a nation that he has no connection to at all. Given his past, It is possible that his benefactors have simply offered him the one thing he was denied for so long; the chance to fight and die gloriously.
Sun Cobra 2 Rabid
Mass: 55 tons
Chassis: IX Endo Steel
Powerplant: Vox 330 XL
Cruising Speed: 64 kph
Maximum Speed: 96 kph
Jump Jets: None
Jump Capacity: None
Armour: Advanced/3
Armament:
2 Type DDS Kingston Extended-Range PPCs
Comm System: Build 1685 Tacticomm
T&T System: Build 2 Cat TTS with Targeting Computer
During his time with the Steel Wolves, Ivar Wolf piloted a Ghost that had been previously a part of the Fletcher Planetary Guard. As a freeborn adoptee, even being given that much honour was an achievement that Ivar had to fight hard for. He proved that he was worthy of it in clashes against the Sprit Cats and Swordsworn, where he demonstrated a combination of skill and ferocity that earned him several kills.
Ivar’s Ghost was confiscated by the AFFS during the annexation of Fletcher; it was subsequently disabled and captured by the CCAF, leaving him dispossessed. Aside from a few short periods during his involvement with illegal BattleMech fights, it would be nearly a decade before he would ride into battle again. This time it was at the controls of a salvaged Hatchetman, which would be destroyed by Warrior House Ijori forces.
His third BattleMech appears to be brand new. A Sea Fox-built Sun Cobra 2, the BattleMech has been his consistent ride since he resurfaced in 3147. Where he got it from is unclear, although the popularity of the design with the AFFS would not rule out it being taken from their supplies or salvage. Regardless of its origins, Ivar Grodenko has proven to be adept at its controls, taking advantage of its Targeting Computer to land precise, deadly hits on opponents.
So far, Rabid (as he has dubbed the ‘Mech) has proven to be a threat out of all proportion to its size. Ivar has claimed kills on a number of heavy and even assault BattleMechs through his precise shooting and seeming lack of regard for his own life. And while the Sun Cobra has been badly damaged several times, whoever provided it seems to also have no lack of supplies to keep the BattleMech running.
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Lanie King
Position/Rank: Major
Affiliation/Unit: Mercenary/King’s Tigers
Birth Year: 3105
While it is commonly accepted that every Mercenary unit that fought for the Word of Blake was destroyed during the Jihad, the truth is much more complicated. King’s Tigers was one of those commands that survived the conflict, albeit only after suffering considerable losses. Fleeing to the Taurian Concordat, the unit survived by trading advanced Word-supplied equipment to the TDF as a part of a long-term contract.
For the better part of half a century, the Tigers would slowly rot away in the Concordat, alternating between long-term garrison assignments and employment in often futile raids against the Federated Suns. The latter did little for them beyond costing them men and equipment, further whittling away what little they had left and leaving many in fear for the unit’s viability. The coup that placed Kaff Doru in power bought the Tigers some time as the new government sought to de-escalate the tension with its neighbours.
Lanie King was only 24 when she inherited control of the unit in 3129 after her father’s sudden death. Having lived her life entirely in the Concordat while watching her family unit die around her, she embarked on a radical course of action. In 3130 she opted not to renew the Tigers’ contract with the TDF, instead taking the unit halfway across the Inner Sphere to Galatea in what could only be described as a substantial gamble. Her goal was simple; either reestablish the Tigers as a viable force, or see it break up but at least allow its members a chance at controlling their own destinies.
Her first challenge would ultimately be a legal one, as there were outstanding bounties on the unit and several of its officers. The subsequent case, King’s Tigers versus MRBC, set a legal precedent as it established that there were no surviving members of the unit from that time, and that as such, the MRBC-authorized bounty on the unit was no longer valid. With that obstacle out of the way, Lanie King fully registered the reborn Tigers with the commission.
Many expected them to simply fold, but fate was strangely fortunate to the command. The HPG blackout saw a sudden rise in tensions across the Inner Sphere, and a sudden need for mercenaries. King’s Tigers would win several contracts in the next three years that saw them gain critical experience and skill, helping to turn them from a collection of struggling survivors into a viable fighting force. Lanie King quickly matured as a commander during this period, proving to be a capable leader despite her inexperience.
By 3135, King’s Tigers had actually begun to grow as a unit, recruiting from the rapidly ballooning mercenary market. An extended contract with the Capellan Confederation netted the unit crucial experience and salvage as it faced forces in the former Republic and along the Federated Suns border. The sudden termination of their contract in 3138 left the Tigers high and dry, but Lanie King was able to use what she had to get them quickly back on the market.
For the next seven years, the Tigers would see further action across the Inner Sphere, serving with every other Successor state to some degree. From early 3146 onwards they focused on the crumbling Lyran Commonwealth, engaging in pirate hunting operations across the realm’s exposed flank, while choosing to avoid the Clan front. The only exception came in 3148, when the Tigers were among several other mercenary units that aided in the putting down of Diego Wildermar’s Buena Collective.
If Lanie King can be said to have a weakness, it is her dedication to her job. She spares little time for anything but the Tigers to the point where she is literally married to them; her wife, Miho Miazuchi, is also the unit’s chief technician, and their oldest daughter is also an apprentice MechWarrior. In recent months, Lanie King has been seen with Irisz Magyari and other members of her growing mercenary alliance.
CTF-3LL Cataphract
Mass: 70 tons
Chassis: Earthworks CTF
Powerplant: VOX 280 XL
Cruising Speed: 43 kph
Maximum Speed: 64 kph (88 kph w/MASC)
Jump Jets: None
Jump Capacity: None
Armour: Kallon Royalstar
Armament:
1 Imperator Code Red LB 10-X Autocannon
1 Ceres Arms Crushed Plasma Rifle
4 Ceres Arms Extended Range Medium Lasers
Comm System: CommuTech Multi-Channel 10
T&T System: Blazefire SightLock
In its own strange way, Lanie King’s Cataphract is a symbol of the Tiger’s resilience and determination to keep going. The BattleMech was salvaged from the Capellans during the Jihad and pressed into the Tiger’s service during that conflict. It survived their flight to the Taurian Concordat, where it remained a part of their roster for the next five decades. While other more advanced units either were destroyed or traded to the Taurians, it continued to serve, passed from one MechWarrior to another.
When Lanie King took control of it in 3127 it was less out of any family tradition of operating that particular ‘Mech, as it was the first functional machine available to her. None the less, she felt a certain degree of pride in operating it, given that it was tied to her unit’s history to such a degree. Over the years she has mastered the ‘Mech, including learning to carefully time and control the use of the MASC system to minimize the risk of damage.
On the battlefield, she is something of a pragmatist. Rather than seeking heroic duels with rival BattleMechs, King instead prefers to take an opportunistic approach, and often focuses on taking out enemy tanks or Battle Armour that are more vulnerable to her Plasma and LBX weapons. This is not to say that she is a coward by any means, and she has shown a willingness to engage more powerful foes if needs be.
Despite several opportunities to do such, Lanie has no desire to upgrade to a heavier or more powerful BattleMech, preferring to continue using her familiar Cataphract. However, despite her odd affection for the ‘Mech, she also has not given it a nickname.
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Loving these bios and very intrigued on where it’s all going...
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Guest character courtesy of KayEmm
Kari Moreno
Position/Rank: Mercenary
Affiliation/Unit: Mercenary/Dark Suns
Birth Year: 3118
With her brightly-coloured hair and tattoo-covered arms, not to mention her relative youth, Kari Moreno des not look the part of a mercenary commander. And yet, she has thrown herself into the position with a degree of drive and determination that belies her lack of experience. Initially wary, she has matured into her role in the last five years.
The Dark Suns were a family owned mercenary unit, formed out of the remnants of several other shattered commands in the wake of the Jihad. It had always been lead by the Moreno family, who themselves had a history of mercenary service going back generations. That tradition almost ended in 3143 on Wrocaiw, when faulty intelligence on the part of the LCAF put the Dark Suns right in the path of a Jade Falcon assault. The Dark Suns were badly mauled and forced to retreat off-world; among the dead was Carlos Moreno, the unit’s then commander and Kari’s father.
In the face of such severe losses, most units would have simply folded. Instead, Kari Moreno was determined to honour her family’s legacy and rebuild her command. While essentially emptying their financial reserves, she was able to recruit enough men to put together a passably functional fighting force. Much of this was her own sheer drive to succeed more than any conventional wisdom; none the less, she made sure to build an effective force, rather than simply taking whatever she could.
Several low-risk contracts helped to bring the unit together and give it some measure of financial stability, but their true breakthrough came with a devastating raid against the Alliance Aerospace facilities on Bass. The unit were able to slip past the Canopian defenses and raid the planetside facilities, devastating the local militia forces to only minimal loss. The unit was further buoyed when it successfully repelled a Marian raid on Kendall. These successes were as much due to the Dark Suns’ abilities as it was Kari’s leadership and tactical skills.
Her skills would be put to the test in 3148 when Kari was approached by agents working for Kommandant Stephan Kurtz, an officer in the 2nd Donegal Guard. Kurtz had information pinpointing the specific Jade Falcon unit and even officer that had been responsible for the near destruction of the unit and the death of her father, identifying the culprits as the 13th Falcon Dragoons, stationed on Arcturus. He made an offer of employment for her for a raid in force on the world, aimed at disrupting the Falcon forces, stealing supplies and striking the Arcturan Arms factory.
Once the Dark Suns arrived planetside, however, the situation changed drastically. Rather than the raid in force that he had intended, Kurtz’s goal was to boost his own career and political standing by reclaiming the Commonwealth’s original capitol. He deliberately fed the Dark Suns to the Falcons, aiming to use them as bait while preserving his own forces. Quick thinking by Kari allowed her to extricate her unit and escape the trap that he had set for her.
In the aftermath of the debacle, Kari was able to present enough evidence of Kurtz’s wrongdoing to clear her unit of any misconduct. While the Dark Suns returned to Galatea to again rebuild, Kurtz was stripped of his rank and dishonorably discharged from the LCAF for his unauthorized actions.
Kari’s current situation could only be described as contradictory. In the last five years, she has grown considerably as a commander, forced to take on the role far earlier than she had ever planned to. However, on a personal level, she is remarkably insecure and suffers from a combination of self-doubt and low self-esteem that is seemingly at odds with her colourful appearance. In many ways, she also feels pressured to carry her family’s legacy forwards, even if it may not fit with her own personal plans.
Most recently, Kari has been associated with Irisz Magyari and her growing coalition of mercenaries.
BL-18-KNT Black Knight Black Sun
Mass: 75 tons
Chassis: Technicron Revised NT Endo-Composite
Powerplant: Vlar 300 Light
Cruising Speed: 43 kph
Maximum Speed: 64 kph
Jump Jets: None
Jump Capacity: None
Armour: Valliant Lamellor
Armament:
1 Type DDS Kingston Extended Range PPC
2 Series 7NC Extended Range Large Lasers
4 Series 2NC Extended Range Medium Lasers
1 Series 4 Small Pulse Laser
Comm System: Transcomm Alpha
T&T System: Transcomm Beta with Beagle Active Probe and Targeting Computer
Kari Moreno’s Black Knight has been in her family for generations, even before the formation of the Dark Suns. The BattleMech reportedly dates back to the Star League, having passed through numerous hands even before passing into the Moreno’s ownership. Traditionally, the BattleMech has been piloted by the senior member of the family, although there have been exceptions (such as on Wrocaiw, where Kari was piloting the ‘Mech, while Carlos was piloting a BattleMaster).
Along the way, the ‘Mech has been near destroyed and rebuilt numerous times. During the depths of the Succession Wars, it had was stripped of most of its advanced technology in order to keep it running. The recovery of technology in the years prior to the Clan Invasion saw it rebuilt again back to its prior SLDF standards. Despite several close calls, it also has become something of a lucky charm for the Moreno family; none of its members have ever died behind the controls of the BattleMech, despite numerous close calls.
When she inherited control of the Dark Suns, Kari also took over the family’s BattleMech, making it a symbol of her resilience and determination to rebuild. Its rugged design served her well over the following years, allowing her to lead her unit from the front during their operations. The BattleMech was again badly damaged in the fighting on Arcturus. In the aftermath, Kari had it rebuilt again to modern BL-18-KNT standards, complete with Clan-spec weaponry.
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Some of these are allies. Some a threats. Some may be both.
Marcus Kessels
Position/Rank: Bandit King
Affiliation/Unit: Pirate/Ghost Flames
Birth Year: 3113 (estimated)
The Ghost Flames are a pirate band that have reaped the benefits of the HPG Blackout and subsequent chaos. First emerging from the ruins of the Circrinus Federation in the early 32nd century, they remained little more than a nuance for much of their existence. However, following Grey Monday, they stepped up their attacks to take advantage of distracted enemies, quickly growing in power and reach.
Marcus Kessels is the current leader of the Ghost Flames. Little is known about his past; according to him, he was born on a supposedly dead or abandoned former Rim Worlds colony, but this cannot be verified. His early life was, by all accounts, one of deprivation, growing up poor in a scavenger society that was punctuated by bouts of violence and gang warfare. By the age of sixteen he had joined the Ghost Flames, supposedly because he saw the opportunity that the group represented (but just as likely he was press-ganged by the unit).
Regardless of how he joined, Kessels took naturally to the life of a pirate. Determined to make a better life for himself regardless of what it took, he readily used violence to achieve his aims. He claimed a spot as a MechWarrior within the Ghost Flames by the age of eighteen, likely killing another member of the band for the position. He quickly rose through the ranks of the organisation through a series of successful raids that yielded considerable plunder while leaving destruction in their wake.
When the Lyran Commonwealth began their invasion of the former Free Worlds League in 3137, Kessels chose to take advantage off the situation. He led a series of raids against the distracted LCAF, striking deeper than they had gone before. While risky, these raids paid off, bolstering his position within the pirate band. In 3141, backed by a large number of the Ghost Flames, he challenged then-leader Jonny Black for the leadership of the band. Following a short but bloody fight, Black was dead and Kessels was their new, unquestioned leader.
After a short period of consolidation (that largely involved purging any remaining loyalists) Kessels began a new campaign of violence aimed at the Lyran Commonwealth. His assaults were determined and aggressive, and only grew in boldness as the Commonwealth’s situation deteriorated. Under his control, the Ghost Flames prowled a stretch of the anti-Spinward border of the realm, treating it as their own territory.
With the LCAF best upon by all sides, they could rarely spare any forces to deal with the Ghost Flames. If anything, the formation of the breakaway Beuna Collective seemed to embolden the pirates, driving them to push further into the realm. By 3148 they were readily raiding a stretch of worlds that they collectively referred to as the Ghost Flame’s wake, preying on whatever targets they could find. Increasingly they faced mercenary units, hired by planetary leaders, local nobles or even corporations to protect what the Lyran Government could not.
This success has solidified Marcus Kessles’ position as the leader of the band; as long as the loot keeps flowing and their raids remain successful, it is unlikely that he will be challenged anytime soon. Recent rumors have it that he has set up a base of operations within the Lyran Commonwealth itself, possibly on an otherwise dead or abandoned world, or alternatively being sheltered by a planetary noble in exchange for protection.
Outside of the Ghost Flames, Marcus Kessels has no allies but has made plenty of enemies. However, for the moment he seems confident in his position, convinced that the fractured Commonwealth will remain too focused on other matters to bring him to heel.
COR-BR Corsair Dieselnurdler
Mass: 95 tons
Chassis: Hollis Mk II (modified)
Powerplant: Pitban 285 XL
Cruising Speed: 32 kph
Maximum Speed: 54 kph
Jump Jets: None
Jump Capacity: None
Armour: Patchwork
Armament:
2 Zeus Slingshot Gauss Rifles
2 Magna Mk III Large Lasers
3 TharHes SRM-4s
Comm System: Dalban Commline
T&T System: Dalban HiRez
A product of equal parts ingenuity and desperation, the first Corsairs emerged from the workshops of the Oberon Confederacy in the late Third Succession War. Essentially cobbled together from whatever parts came to hand and built to only the crudest of standards, each Corsair was functionally a unique BattleMech. The design spread across the near periphery, with hand-crafted examples cropping up in the hands of pirates and independent Periphery militaries.
This example was first sighted in 3120, being piloted by the then leader of the Ghost Flames, Jonny Black and was the only assault ‘Mech in the unit. After his death, Marcus Kessles claimed it for his own, a move that was as much about securing a symbol of his authority as it was his unwillingness to let anyone else possess such a powerful machine. Marcus would have the ‘Mech rebuilt again to suit his own purposes, including a pair of powerful Gauss Rifles as the centerpiece of its arsenal.
Marcus Kessels prefers to lead his band from the front; this is as much about making the most of his powerful BattleMech as it is the need to reinforce his powerbase by proving his skill and bravery. The result is that the misshapen, ungainly but powerful BattleMech has become a feared sight across the worlds that the Ghost Flames target.
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Cameron Clarke
Position/Rank: Star Captain
Affiliation/Unit: Clan Sea Fox/Spina Khanate
Birth Year: 3110
A Sea Fox warrior-merchant, Cameron Clarke presents something of an odd contradiction in his nature. While outwardly he possesses the traits that are key to the clan, being a shrewd negotiator and being able to recognize the value of an item while also knowing when to back off from a bad deal, he also seems to lack ambition. The result is that it seems that his career has stalled; however, on closer examination, it becomes apparent that he has much more at play that it would seem.
Cameron showed considerable skills during his Sibko years, both as a warrior and a merchant. His trainers faith in him paid off when he graduated at the top of his Sibko, earning a place in the Spina Khanate’s forces. His first real test came in 3133 on Sterling; a sale to the planetary guard was disrupted by a pirate attack, with the raiders seeking to seize the weapons for themselves. Cameron lead the defense of his trade mission, handily defeating the attackers. In doing so, he also impressed the clients so much that they increased their order. In 3136 he successfully competed for the Clarke Bloodname, after being sponsored by a senior member of the Khanate.
His first real setback would come in 3137 when a trade deal within the Falcon’s Reach backfired, leaving him trading several new OmniMechs for a load of Inner Sphere salvage, essentially trading at a loss. While Cameron was chastised for the loss, he reaped other benefits from the deal, such as making contacts outside of Spina Khanate’s usual sphere of influence. Like the test of the Khanate, he became involved in the reunification of the Free Worlds League, including taking part In operation HOMECOMING.
By 3140, however, his career had appeared to stall. For the last five years, Cameron had maintained the rank of Star Captain and run a small but profitable trade mission, but he had also shown no apparent interest in further advancement. Instead, his mission rotated between the mercenary market on Galatea, and the remaining independent worlds in League space. As these operations continued to remain profitable, few seemed to be concerned with his lack of profile. If anything, Cameron’s middling performance and lack of ambition was dismissed by his fellow Sea Foxes who simply didn’t see him as a threat. His strange interest in performing covers of folk ballards only added to the image of him as largely harmless.
The truth was far more complicated. By remaining low profile and focusing on low-level but profitable trading, Cameron Clarke had been building his own personal brand within his target markets. A part of his dealing was acting as an information broker, trading in intelligence as much as he did in weapons and supplies. For example, in 3138, he sold a brand new Mad Cat Mk IV to Irisz Magyari, a mercenary who had lost her BattleMech in combat with an unknown, gigantic, three-legged BattleMech. As a part of the payment for her new OmniMech, she provided him with BattleROM footage of the encounter, which he would later sell onwards.
Such deals became his stock in trade, allowing Cameron to build up a considerable network of contacts and allies within the mercenary trade and beyond. The result is that he has become a powerful information broker on Galatea, serving the Mercenary trade well. He trades in knowledge as much as he does parts, BattleMechs or weaponry, giving him degree of a reach and influence within the trade that goes well beyond where other Sea Foxes would normally reach. It is believed that this network has the quiet backing of his Aimag, if not the entire Khanate, as a way to drum up sales and bolster their influence.
Grendel (Mongrel) D Death Fish II
Mass: 45 tons
Chassis: Process 12 Endo Steel
Powerplant: Consolidated 315 XL
Cruising Speed: 76 kph
Maximum Speed: 119 kph
Jump Jets: Clan Standard 14X
Jump Capacity: 210 meters
Armour: Arcadia Compound Delta VII Ferro-Fiberous
Armament:
1 Type DDS Kingston Extended Range PPC
1 Series 2NC Extended Range Medium Laser
1 Series 2d Medium Pulse Laser
1 Series 4 Small Pulse Laser
1 Mk III Type 22 SRM-6
Comm System: KP-3 “Screamer”
T&T System: Version Gamma-V TTS
While the popular image of the Sea Fox Clan is one of merchants, many overlook that it still maintains a formidable and well-equipped military; more to the point, that the same merchants that many deal with are also Clan Warriors. Cameron Clarke is a good example of the type; while outwardly a trader, he can and will take up arms to protect his dealings or to enforce his Khanate’s goals.
Cameron Clarke’s first BattleMech, once he graduated from his Sibko training, was a brand-new Grendel built at the Clan’s Channeline Isles facilities. He would nickname the ‘Mech Death Fish, a play on the Clan’s totems as well as possibly an early attempt to appear harmless through such a joking title. Those that dismissed his capabilities would soon learn to regret their mistakes, as he proved to be a skilled a MechWarrior as he was a trader, taking up arms to defend his operations.
In addition to its role in protecting his operations, Cameron Clarke often used Death Fish as a way to bolster sales through demonstrating the OmniMech’s capabilities. Even if it was priced beyond what many of his clients could afford, the simple presence of the ‘Mech and a display of what it could do often encouraged clients to expand their purchases and allowed Cameron to upsell them on items that they might not have otherwise purchased.
Cameron’s BattleMech was destroyed in combat with Regulan forces in 3148. It was replaced with a new Grendel, which he imaginatively titled Death Fish II.
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Anrynn Pryde
Position/Rank: Star Captain
Affiliation/Unit: Clan Jade Falcon/Delta Galaxy
Birth Year: 3118
Star Captain Anrynn Pryde is a strange contradiction. While a trueborn Clan warrior, a dedicated Crusader and unquestionably loyal to both her Clan and the Mongol ideal of total warfare, she is also remarkably pleasant and friendly to a degree that seems almost disturbing.
Even when faced with the frequent trials that are a key part of Clan life, she remains remarkably, possibly even frighteningly, pleasant. When challenged, she will not back down, but at the same time will not try to harm an opponent more than needed. She is gracious in her victories and humble in her defeats, choosing instead to move on and focus on what needs to be done. During her Bloodname Trials she did not kill a single opponent (Although two were badly injured) instead incapacitating them.
However, when behind the controls of her BattleMech and facing an enemy of her Clan, Anrynn Pryde is a completely different person.
Beyond just the simple needs of defeating an enemy, she takes on a vicious, aggressive persona that strives to see them utterly destroyed. She will ruthlessly destroy her opponents, not heeding any please for mercy or restraint. She has shown no qualms about attacking non-combatants, and has gone so far as to use them to lure out an enemy. And while many among the Jade Falcons have embraced melee combat, she seems to actively relish the idea, engaging in physical attacks with her enemy wherever possible. This Anrynn is a blood-soaked killer, one who lives only for the destruction of her enemy.
Among Inner Sphere societies, such behavior would be considered to be worrying at the least, and downright disturbing by most. However, among the Clans, such behavior is often encouraged; after all, a warrior lives only to fight, and success is measured in victories and enemies defeated. Few acknowledge the seeming split in her personality, and those among her comrades that do seem to prefer her more vicious warrior nature.
It is not clear if Anrynn’s pleasant persona is just an act that she has built up in order to appear disarming and nonthreatening. Alternatively, it is possible that her vicious warrior nature is a shell she has constructed in order to better fit in with the conformist nature of Clan society, and that she really is that nice underneath it all. Or, most disturbingly, that the two separate personas exist and that she switches between the two given the situation.
Regardless of the hows and whys of her situation, there is no arguing her effectiveness. Coming of age following the Falcon rending and the rise of the golden ordun, she has been on the frontlines of the Clan’s advance towards Terra. Her career so far has been marked by constant battles, an environment in which she has so far thrived. Her bloodthirsty side has served her well, allowing her to carve a path of destruction through her Clan’s enemies.
Jade Hawk (Modified) Twilight
Mass: 75 tons
Chassis: Dynamic F14 Endo Steel
Powerplant: Starfire 375 XL
Cruising Speed: 54 kph (65 kph w/TSM)
Maximum Speed: 86 kph (97 kph w/TSM)
Jump Jets: Grandthrust Mk 5 with Partial Wing
Jump Capacity: 180 meters
Armour: Jolassa 325
Armament:
4 Type I SRM-6s
2 Series 2b ER Medium Lasers
2 Series 1g ER Small Lasers
Comm System: Raptor X-T Type III
T&T System: Goshawk E-Series with Light Active Probe
The Jade Hawk has the dubious distinction of entering service with two opposing groups at the same time. Orginally intended as a Jade Falcon totem ‘Mech, industrial espionage saw the design stolen and copied for the mercenary market. The result has been two separate streams of development, taking the BattleMech in different directions.
Anrynn Pryde’s Jade Hawk, Twilight, is a merging of the two different families. In a rare clash, her ‘Mech faced and defeated a mercenary JHK-03 Jade Hawk. While outwardly disgusted at the ‘abomination’ she faced, Anrynn was also impressed with its capabilities; so much so that she ordered her technicians to salvage components from the downed machine. From this she was able to integrate its Triple Strength Myomer into her own BattleMech, bolstering its capabilities. Rather than incorporating its claws, however, she chose a more Falcon touch to the design, equipping it with talons.
The result is a terror of a BattleMech that is ideally suited to her ferocious combat style. Anrynn prefers to use her mobility and jump jets to close with an enemy, before engaging them at point blank range with both her weapons and vicious kicks. She prefers to aggressively ride her ‘Mech’s heat curve, keeping its enhanced myomers active as much as possible.
While risky, this approach has so far worked well for her. On Thorin, she was able to wreak terrible havoc on both the RAF and Wolf forces that opposed the Falcon invasion, closing in and eviscerating heavier BattleMechs. On Rigel Kentarus she faced off with a brand new Wolf Thresher II and literally shattered the ‘Mech with a single kick.
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Leonid Stanislav
Position/Rank: Major
Affiliation/Unit: Mercenary/Stainsalv’s Hammers
Birth Year: 3099 (assumed)
Leonid Stanislav is not just a mystery, but he is in his own way carrying on a tradition that has seemingly run through his family for generations.
The few records of his family go back to the late 30th century with Yulri Stanislav, a mercenary MechWarrior who was active in the rimward region of the Near Periphery. What made him unusual was his point of origin; it appears that Yulri immigrated inwards from somewhere deeper in the Periphery. However, efforts to find his exact point of origin have so far come to nothing. He took control of a small mercenary unit, renaming it Stanislav’s Hammers. This unit would take part in several conflicts during the early 31st century including the Aurigan civil war.
Following the end of the Fourth Succession War, the unit simply vanished. It would not resurface again until 3037, now headed up by Vladim Stanislav, Yulri’s son. This iteration of the Hammers would be far-roaming in the contracts that they took, and remained active for the next decade and a half. They would again disappear in 3052; however, it was simply assumed that thee unit had become another victim of the Clan invasion.
Rather, the Hammers would again re-emerge in 3057, now under the command of Nikolas Stanislav, the son of Vladim. This iteration of the Hammers would remain active for over two decades, working for a wide variety of employers across the Inner Sphere. The unit would take part in everything from the small conflicts of the Chaos March to fighting on both sides of the FedCom civil war under various contracts. Late in the Jihad, they would become involved with the drive into the Word of Blake Protectorate. However, they would again vanish in 3079 during the confused final days of the conflict. Given all else that happened at the time, the disappearance of a small mercenary command barely rated a mention.
The unit would not re-merge until 3132, appearing on Herotitus a month after the HPG Blackout. This incarnation of the Hammers was lead by Leonid Stanislav, who claimed to be a descendant of the family line. While DNA testing was able to verify this, he also rebuffed all efforts to explain where he had come from or where his unit had been for the last five decades. All he would offer was a cryptic statement saying that it was a place that he could no longer return to, and that there was no need to say more.
Leonid took advantage of the escalating conflicts within the Inner Sphere to build up the Hammers, a number of successful contracts allowing him to rapidly expand their strength and capabilities. B y 3137 he had relocated his unit to Galatea, abandoning the Periphery market for the more lucrative, and risky, opportunities that the Inner Sphere presented. This move paid off, with the Hammers reaping the benefits over the next decade.
Aside from the unanswered questions over his past, Leonid Stanislav presents an interesting figure. Outwardly he appears surly and argumentative, with a short temper and the occasional explosive outburst. However, this does appear to be an act; rather, his is a rather cunning individual who deliberately downplays himself while carefully exploiting his opponents and looking for their weaknesses. This approach not only dominates his personal interactions, but also his battlefield tactics, where Leonid has shown considerable skill in baiting enemies and luring them into making fatal mistakes.
He has also shown a deep hatred for the Clans, one that does appear to be genuine and is not just a part of his act. The reasons for this hatred are unclear, and may be tied to his mysterious past and the home that he supposedly cannot return to.
MAD-11D Marauder Molot
Mass: 75 tons
Chassis: GM MAD Endo-Composite
Powerplant: GM 300 XL
Cruising Speed: 43 kph
Maximum Speed: 64 kph
Jump Jets: None
Jump Capacity: None
Armour: Valliant Lamellor
Armament:
2 Exostar Pinnacle Extended Range PPCs
2 Exostar Medium X-Pulse Lasers
1 Poland Main Model X Silver Bullet Gauss Rifle
Comm System: Dalban Micronics
T&T System: Dalban HiRez
When he first appeared in 3132, Leonid Stanislav led the Hammers from a battered MAD-2R Marauder of unknown providence. Deliberate obfuscation on his part made it unclear if the ‘Mech was of recent construction, or alternatively a vintage SLDF model. Regardless of its past, it proved to be a potent weapon in his hands, scoring a number of victories against a variety of opponents. Where possible, Leonid would try to underplay its capabilities in order to trick opponents into underestimating him and his ‘Mech.
Despite his skill, his Marauder was destroyed by Capellan forces on Tigress in 3143. While the ‘mech was salvaged, it was only good for scrap. Furthermore, Leonid seemed to deliberately scrub the wreckage of anything that could be used to identify the ‘Mech’s point of origin.
Not staying dispossessed for long, Leonid used the opportunity to upgrade to a new MAD-11D model. Behind the controls of this ‘Mech, dubbed Molot, he became much more direct and straightforward. No longer trying to hide its abilities, he instead prefers to use them to their fullest to overpower enemies in combat. This has not made him arrogant or overconfident by any means; rather it simply gives him a tool to use alongside his other deceptive tactics. This combination has been a success for Leonid, with Molot serving him and his unit well.
His previous MAD-2R has also continued in its service as well, with parts from its wreck used to repair damage to his current ride.
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Gillian Blackrock
Position/Rank: None
Affiliation/Unit: None
Birth Year: 3102
Gillian Blackrock (almost certainly an alias) has so far been through considerable changes in her life and survived a number of unexpected twists. Along the way, she has shown a remarkable ability to not only reinvent herself, but to always come out on top.
As best as can be determined, she was born on Tybalt in 3102. She was university educated and earned her Republic citizenship through low-profile community service or charitable work. In her mid-twenties, she earned a job at Bannson Universal, where she displayed a combination of skill, drive and ruthlessness that had her transferred to the company’s ‘special projects’ division. Key among her tasks there was the recruitment of personnel for what would eventually become Bannson’s Raiders.
This role would give her the unenviable task of finding usable recruits from among the mass of killers, criminals, adventurers, failed mercenaries, dropouts and so on that the Raiders discovered and moulding them into a semblance of a cohesive fighting force. While her exact role is unclear, it is suspected that Blackrock was a part of the sorting of the Raiders into their three constituent units, while also isolating those that were useful enough to become MechWarriors as well as those that were unfit for service, even by the Raiders’ questionable standards.
At some point she underwent combat training, including marksmanship and sniper instruction. By late 3133, she was apparently attached to the Scourge full-time, acting as a scout for the unit while also engaging in other actions to support the unit’s goals. In addition to gathering intelligence, Blackrock may have been responsible for a number of assassinations in support of their operations, all undertaken through precision sniper shots.
Following the Scourge coup against Jacob Bannson, she simply vanished from sight. During this time, it is believed that she travelled under a variety of alias, taking advantage of the vacuum created by Fortress Republic. Over the next three years there was a series of high-profile assassinations of Capellans, both military and civilian, across former Republic space that she may have been responsible for or at least involved with, but no tangible proof exists to confirm this claim.
In 3140, Blackrock resurfaced on Galatea. She quickly took advantage of her skills and training to earn a position as a freelance broker on the Mercenary’s Star. While she served in both contract negotiations and staff recruitment, her primary focus became the gathering and selling of information. This role allowed her to build up a considerable circle of allies from her clients, ones who were useful to her own goals.
Gillian Blackrock could be best described as an opportunist, but is by no means greedy or short-sighted. She has shown a remarkable ability to plan for the future and react to whatever twists that it throws in her way, but also an understanding of when to abandon her plans and move on. Her goal seems to be more about ensuring her own protection and continual survival; the wealth she has built up along the way is more of a comfort than an necessity, and serves as a useful tool to get what she wants. Above all else, she is discrete in her actions and the influence she wields. For example, while she was instrumental in the battle of Hindmarsh in 3148, her actions also ensured that neither the FWLM nor the RSMC became involved in the situation and escalated it further.
Recently she seems to have entered some sort of an alliance with renegade Republic agent Antonin Rybak. Despite their seemingly opposing goals, the two do appear to trust each other enough to support each other’s operations and share intelligence.
HVC-P6 Havoc
Mass: 35 tons
Chassis: X-H54 Endo Steel
Powerplant: Hermes 280 XL
Cruising Speed: 89 kph
Maximum Speed: 130 kph
Jump Jets: Chilton 360
Jump Capacity: 150 meters
Armour: Jolassa 328 Ferro-Fiberous
Armament:
4 Diverse Optics Extended Range Medium Lasers
1 Hovertec Quad SRM 4
Comm System: Datacom 70
T&T System: Octagon Tatrac System E
At some stage in her past, likely during her time with the Scourge, Gillian Blackrock trained as a MechWarrior. Her goal was likely to simply expand her options and add to her already considerable repertoire of skills, rather than transition to the battlefield full time.
Much like it’s owner, Gillian’s Havoc has lead an interesting life. Serial XX651-098/NC was built in 3115 and sold straight to the Mercenary market. After passing through three owners, it simply dropped out of sight in 3130. It would resurface in 3133 as a part of the Scourge, indicating that it’s disappearance was likely due to its being acquired by Bannson Universal. For the next two years it was piloted by Jarvis March, a disgraced mercenary in the Scourge’s employ, before his sudden death in 3135. The BattleMech disappeared again, and would not be seen until recently.
It now appears that Blackrock may have kept the BattleMech as an insurance policy, as much about protecting herself as anything else. It is not known if she has ever faced live combat, but so far in the few exercises she has taken part in, she has only shown herself to be a mediocre MechWarrior at best. Of course, why Blackrock has chosen to reveal this facet of herself now is another mystery.
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Interesting lots of commanders of various units
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Tagged for more info
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I am really enjoying these. (Although I might just be a bit biased there)
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Ronnie Raymond Jr.
Position/Rank: MechWarrior
Affiliation/Unit: Mercenary/McKinnon’s Marauders
Birth Year: 3123
Ronnie Raymond is a striking example of the difference a few years can make to a man’s life.
Born in 3123, Ronnie was the son of Connie Raymond, the commander of Raymond’s Roughnecks, and her second husband, Ron McDougal. Both mercenary commanders, the pair married to form a dynastic union between their two units. Ronnie’s treatment from his parents while growing up was one of stark contrast. His mother clearly favoured his older half-sister, Jessie, ensuring that she had the best of everything that they could afford. Conversely, Ron doted on his son, and would indulge the boy with whatever he could. The result was that Ronnie developed a mixture of entitlement and resentment, feeling he deserved more than what he had.
Growing up as a part of a family-owned mercenary unit, it was expected that Ronnie would one day join their ranks. From a young age, he showed a fascination with BattleMechs and a desire to become a MechWarrior like his mother. And while his father was a Tanker and had hoped that his son would follow in his footsteps, he also chose to support his son’s choices, regardless. Unfortunately, Ronnie turned out to be only a mediocre MechWarrior, and again overshadowed by his sister.
Ronnie was given command of a recon lance in his family unit, a position that was more about his parentage than any personal skill on his part. Service alongside his sister would see a rise in the tensions between the two as each tried to out-do the other, while Ronnie wanted to secure himself a heavier BattleMech as well. That Jessie was also clearly his mother’s preferred heir did not help Ronnie’s situation any.
When Jessie left the unit in late 3145, Ronnie saw his opportunity. His mother somewhat reluctantly accepted him as a heir, giving him his sister’s former spot in the unit and a new BattleMech. Ronnie used the opportunity to then recruit a group of MechWarriors to the unit that would be loyal to him personally, while flushing out anyone who had supported Jessie. For the next three years he loyally followed his mother’s orders, regardless of what they were, dreaming of the day that he would inherit the unit.
Those dreams came crashing down in the 3148 battle of Hindmarsh. Confronted with his mother’s full toxicity and obsessive need for revenge at the cost of her own family, Ronnie deserted the Roughnecks in the middle of the battle. After making peace with both his father and half-sister, he sought to strike out on his own and do what he could to rebuild his life. In this effort he was aided by Irisz Magyari, who used her own contacts to land him a position within McKinnon’s Marauders to help him get restarted.
Compared to where he was previously, Ronnie mellowed considerably in his attitudes and ego. He willingly accepted a demotion, knowing instead that he would now need to earn his rank based on his abilities rather than simply cruising by and assuming that his parents would get him everything that he wanted. This self-realization has led to an increase in his skills as a MechWarrior as he has endeavored to improve himself in his own right. His situation has also been aided by his friendship with his commander, Terry McKinnon, who has done a lot to encourage him. For the moment, Ronnie’s plan seems to be to work his way up the ranks based on his own merits and skills.
Outside of his unit, he remains in contact with several other former Roughnecks, including his now-retired father and his sister. He has shown no interest in locating his mother, clearly feeling that he is better off without her. Despite their family histories, he seems to have won Irisz Magyari’s confidence, enough for her to include him in her inner circle.
GRF-2N Griffin
Mass: 55 tons
Chassis: Earthworks GRF Endo Steel
Powerplant: 275 Core Tek
Cruising Speed: 54 kph
Maximum Speed: 86 kph
Jump Jets: Rawlings 55
Jump Capacity: 150 meters
Armour: Valliant Chainmail
Armament:
1 Fusigon Longtooth Extended Range PPC
2 Holly SRM-6s
Comm System: Neil 6000
T&T System: Octagon Tartrac with Guardian ECM
When Ronnie Raymond became an active member of the Roughnecks, he was ‘rewarded’ with a factory-fresh Cadaver as his personal BattleMech. This of course only served to fuel his resentment, as he felt that he deserved a heavier and more powerful machine. Ronnie would pilot the ‘Mech for several years, showing only competent skills with it. Ambushed by Wolf Empire forces on Ashburton, Ronnie would lose his BattleMech and nearly his life before he was rescued.
The destruction of his Cadaver and subsequent desertion of Jessie Raymond from the family unit would turn out to be a blessing for him. He used his position as the last remaining family heir to justify his need for a heavier BattleMech, especially as he was now taking his sister’s position within the unit. Connie Raymond agreed (albeit reluctantly), purchasing an ex-AMSC Griffin for his use. Ronnie would continue to use the ‘Mech for the rest of his career with the Roughnecks, and took it with him when he deserted.
No longer able to coast by on his family alone, Ronnie has shown considerable growth in his skills in the last two years. The combination of mobility and ruggedness of his Griffin have served him well, both keeping him alive and giving him a potent weapon to hone his skills. He has become an adept skirmisher, proving to be unpredictable and flexible in his actions. He prefers to avoid stand-up fights, instead opting for hit-and-run attacks or flanking moves. In many ways, he seems to be tempering his own ego, focusing on what gets the job done over getting kills or making flashy moves.
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Isabella de Luca
Position/Rank: Kommander
Affiliation/Unit: Mercenary/Krymzon Guard
Birth Year: 3112
The original Krymzon Guard were formed from what could only be described as a series of bad choices. Its founder, Scarlett de Luca, was the oldest child of an Aurigan noble family. Rather than continue her responsibilities, she chose to run away from home, taking her family BattleMech with her, and instead became a pirate. She rose to lead her own band, which she named the Krymzon Guard, apparently intending to mock the Arano Royal Guards. Instead, ultimately, her band would fight for the Arano Restoration, working as surprisingly reliable mercenaries.
Despite their less than auspicious origins, the Krymzon Guard would continue to operate through the next century and a half. Their record was far from exemplary, with the unit showing a propensity to honour the letter of a contract rather than the spirit of it. For example, while serving with the newly-formed Free Rasalhague Republic, it took no actions to prevent or stop ronin attacks, as they were not contracted to do such. However, for whatever reason, be it good publicity, careful contract brokers or just plain luck, the Krymzon Guard managed to always come out ahead of their own failings, managing to maintain a positive reputation.
While always remaining in control of the de Luca family (who had become fully estranged from their Arano cousins), the Krymzon Guard would grow and shrink numerous times across the decades. On three occasions, it was functionally destroyed, and yet it always seemed to be able to bounce back. The two decades since the HPG blackout proved to be fruitful ones, as the Krymzon Guard grew in numbers and saw constant action.
Isabella de Luca is the current commander of the unit, having taken over following her father’s abrupt retirement in 3145 (that said retirement came up after an incident with a noble’s son, a tub of banana pudding and a truck full of poultry has been omitted from the unit’s history). Her background gave little indication that she had much in the way of qualification for the role besides her name, having shown little talent during training and no head for numbers at all. As a junior officer she seemed somewhat flippant, paying bonuses to her lancemates for kills and showing up to a battlefield while drunk on one occasion.
As expected, her own attitude is somewhat relaxed for a mercenary officer, showing a remarkably casual approach to managing her command. Outwardly, she seems to absolve herself of responsibility, leaving much of the day-to-day management of the command to her small team of administrators and lawyers, and instead focuses on promoting her own image and enjoying herself. She tends to make decisions based on emotion and what seems right to her rather than what might be sensible.
And yet, for all this, she so far has proven to be a resourceful and cunning battlefield commander. Isabella has shown a remarkable ability to think on the fly and adapt as needed, keeping her enemies off-balance and trying to keep up with her. She has shown a remarkable ability to come back, turning around seemingly lost battles, or at the very least, minimizing losses in the advent of a defeat. Among the unit, she has become known for what she calls ‘technical victories’, where the Krymzon Guard come out ahead, no matter what.
If anything, her outwardly flippant attitude seems to be a ruse to get her enemies to underestimate her while exposing themselves. Or it could simply be that she is incredibly lucky and that things simply go her way by chance.
Curiously, the de Luca family have a long-standing alliance with the Stanislavs and their unit, the Hammers. This goes back to when the two units fought alongside each other during the Arano civil war, and has been maintained despite the latter’s propensity to disappear for decades at a time. This connection saw both units bought into the fold of Irisz Magyari’s growing alliance.
As can be expected, Isabella’s personal life is just as loud as everything else she does. Married and divorced twice, she has two daughters, both of whom are apparently a lot more reserved then she is.
WHM-8R Warhammer Immortal
Mass: 70 tons
Chassis: Kell Reinforced 270 Endo Steel
Powerplant: Magna280
Cruising Speed: 43 kph
Maximum Speed: 64 kph
Jump Jets: None
Jump Capacity: None
Armour: Durallex Heavy
Armament:
2 Fusigon Longtooth Extended Range PPCs
2 Magna Mk IV Extended Range Medium Lasers
2 Magna Mk VI Extended Range Small Lasers
2 LFN Linblad Machine Guns
1 Shannon SH-67 Streak SRM-6 Launcher
Comm System: Barret Party Line-200
T&T System: Wasat Watchdog W100
Unlike some families that have long-lasted heirloom BattleMechs, The de Luca family have had a long string of different machines over the course of generations of mercenary life. Their founder, Scarlett de Luca, piloted several different BattleMechs during the course of her career, starting with her stolen heirloom Blackjack, and ending with a rebuilt ancient Highlander. The family’s BattleMechs are seemingly as liable to be destroyed as they are to be traded off for something else.
In an apparent break from that history, Isabella has so far piloted only a single BattleMech in her career, training ‘Mechs aside. Her Warhammer was essentially given to her when she entered active service with the Krymzon Guard, a gift from her father. From the very outset, Isabella showed a propensity for pushing the BattleMech to its limits, aggressively riding its heat curve while trying to squeeze every ounce of performance out of it that she could.
As can be imagined, her BattleMech has been nearly destroyed several times, with its CASE II system proving to be the difference on more than one occasion. A legacy of repairs and rebuilds has left it looking more like a battle-scarred Succession Wars unit rather than one that is relatively new, a look that plays well to Isabella’s tactics of getting her opponent to underestimate her. More than one opponent has seen her as being an easy kill, only to be rudely surprised by her skills and its capabilities.
Isabella has nicknamed the ‘Mech Immortal; whether this is due to its seemingly indestructible nature or some other private joke of hers is another matter.
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Tobiasz Posavatz
Position/Rank: Star Captain
Affiliation/Unit: Escorpion Imperio/Seeker Galaxy
Birth Year: 3113
There has been little to no contact with the Clan Homeworlds since the Jihad. While rumours persist of an apocalyptic civil war, the simple fact is that the Council of Six clans refuse to discuss or even acknowledge what happened or why they are now cut off from their origins.
The Escoprion Imperio attack on Solaris VII in 3145 was an unexpected reminder that the Homeworld Clans still exist and may yet pose a threat. The Second Seeker Cluster staged a Trial of Possession for the contents of the Solaris BattleMech museum, which included a number of priceless artefacts. The Wolf Empire’s 9th Wolf Cavalry faced off against the invaders in battle on the outskirts of Solaris City, but proved to be no match for the unexpected invaders. After defeating the Wolves, the Scorpions took what they wanted and then left the world as quickly as they had appeared.
One of the Escorpion seekers leading the attack was Star Captain Tobiasz Posavatz. Decanted in 3113, he was deemed a ristar from the outset due to his exceptional skills and keen eye for detail. He also showed a keen interest in the history and lore not only of the Clan, but also the Castillians and Umayyads that it had absorbed. While he only scored a single kill in his Trial of Position (and was seconds away from a second), his potential was clear.
Tobiasz was assigned to Seeker Galaxy, where he underwent further training. In 3136, Following an extensive investigation, he led his star on an expedition to an unnamed system two jumps anti-spinward of Navarre, which was found to have a single habitable world. More intriguingly, that world was home to a long-abandoned and yet otherwise unknown Rim Worlds facility. Following a brief battle with a pirate band that was using the planet as a base of operations, Tobiasz claimed the facility for the Imperio.
His success saw him nominated for the Posavatz Bloodname in 3137. Tobiasz was able to successfully defeat his enemies, facing most of them in unaugmented combat. His final victory came through an intense sword duel that he won through precise and careful moves that wounded his opponent and forced them to yield. Following his success he would be promoted to Star Captain, taking up a position in the 2nd Seeker Cluster.
Along with the rest of the Seeker Galaxy, he took part in the Hanseatic Crusade. Tobiasz Posavatz's first actions in the campaign would have mixed results. In the initial invasion of Lubeck, his trinary faced off with the Lubeck Landsknechts, a corporate mercenary unit that was augmenting the militia forces. Posavatz claimed multiple kills among the mercenary forces, including their leader. However, like the rest of the Seeker Galaxy, he was forced into retreat by the arrival of RDF 1 to the world. He would later take part in the final invasion of Bremen, where he was able to avenge himself on the RDF.
The Seeker attack on Solaris served to further demonstrate his prowess. Tobiasz’ trinary faced off with a force from the 9th Wolf Cavalry that included both trueborn Wolves and Marik-Stewart adoptees. He challenged the Wolf Star Captain to a personal duel, easily defeating him in one-on-one combat. Following the trail, he and the rest of the Escorpion Imperio force jumped out of system, presumably returning to their homeworlds.
Tobiasz Posavatz is focused, even by Clan standards. He tends to fixate on a goal and drive towards it at the expense of all else. This process has yielded fantastic results for him so far, both in terms of his archaeological discoveries and his battlefield prowess. He prefers to fight in one-on-one duels where possible, and has no issues with fighting unaugmented if needs be. Both in his BattleMech and on foot, he prefers clean, precise strikes, focusing on exploiting an enemy’s weaknesses.
Sun Spider B Pallas
Mass: 70 tons
Chassis: PGI Type 2
Powerplant: Redline 350 XL
Cruising Speed: 54 kph
Maximum Speed: 86 kph
Jump Jets: None
Jump Capacity: None
Armour: J63-3E Ferro Fiberous
Armament:
1 Omega 12-Coil Gauss Rifle
1 Series 7 Extended Range Large Laser
2 Series 2b Extended Range Medium Lasers
2 Pattern J6 Streak SRM-6
Comm System: Model J-D 067
T&T System: Hawkeye 58
An early Goliath Scorpion OmniMech, the Sun Spider has never been a common design, even within the ranks of that Clan. While potent, it would languish in disfavour for generations due to its questionable origins. It is believed that none exist in the Inner Sphere today, among the Council of Six Clans or elsewhere, but its status within Escorpion Imperio remains unclear.
The appearance of a single example among the Seeker Galaxy raid on Solaris VII was an additional surprise on top of everything else. None of the Wolf warriors that faced the Seekers had ever seen or heard of the design, leaving them unaware of its abilities and wary of its presence. Tobiasz Posavatz gave them good reason to be concerned, as the combination of his skills and his OmniMech’s abilities allowed him to easily defeat Star Captain Woden’s Blood Reaper. Tobiasz would defeat two other Wolf BattleMechs during the trial, demonstrating its capabilities to the fullest.
Recovered data from the battle suggested that this Sun Spider, nicknamed Pallas, was a vintage example dating back to Operation REVIVAL, if not earlier. The presence of just such a relic would be suited to the Seeker Galaxy, which includes not only vintage SLDF BattleMechs, but other rare and otherwise extinct designs.
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Alexis Fairchild
Position/Rank: Commander
Affiliation/Unit: Mercenary/Fairchild’s Ravagers
Birth Year: 3117
Thomas Fairchild was a mercenary and pirate (and allegedly a former Loki agent) who worked for the Word of Blake during the Jihad. During the course of that conflict, he and his command (the self-titled Fairchild’s Ravagers) would commit numerous heinous acts for his employers, never once showing a hint of reservation at their actions. Fairchild would amass a considerable bounty, but it would never be paid out, as he vanished following the liberation of Terra. Save for one false sighting, apparently arranged by Fairchild to throw pursuers off his track, no trace of him would ever be found.
In truth, he had simply gone underground. Fairchild continued to work for a Blakist remnant group for years after the Jihad, allowing them to fulfill their own agendas for years after the end of the Jihad. His acts also intentionally tied his unit and later his family to the Blakists, forming a symbiotic relationship. He provided them with a weapon, and they shielded him from those hunting for him. His legacy would prove so toxic that it would taint his family for generations to come. His son, Michael, would essentially end up forced into the same role, unable to leave without risking exposure. Following his sudden death in 3127, that family curse would be passed on to his daughter Alexis.
The Blackout drove the Blakist group, now into its third generation, to speed up their own plans. As soon as she was old enough to take to the field, Alexis was put into service to take up her family legacy. A combination of carefully managed threats and promises kept her seemingly compliant, allowing the cabal to flex their muscles and pursue their agendas. Starting from 3137, Alexis lead a series of attacks across the former Free Worlds League and the near Periphery that were aimed at destroying their enemies.
What her backers failed to understand was that Alexis was far less compliant than they had expected. She detested her role, and quickly understood that the promises of freedom they had dangled in front of her were little more than an illusion, designed to string her along and keep her loyal. Behind the scenes she was quietly building loyalty within the Ravagers to her personally, while figuring out which of her men she could actually trust.
Her chance came in 3145 when the cabal sent her on a far-ranging operation to recover several Jihad-era data cores that had survived the decades since that conflict. Using the extended reach of the mission as cover, Fairchild quietly purged her unit of those that were more loyal to the cabal than her. In December of that year, the Ravagers struck at the Al Jubaylah headquarters of the cabal, eliminating their leadership in one fell swoop.
For the next two years the Ravagers would engage in a quiet ‘clean up’ operation that saw them take out the remnants of the cabal on several independent worlds in Free Worlds League space. They disappeared again, only to re-emerge in several raids into the Wolf Empire, hitting at both former League and Lyran Commonwealth worlds. Her reason for these attacks would remain unknown outside of the Ravagers, but they saw the unit engage and defeat Wolf forces on several occasions.
In early 3149 the battered remnants of the Ravagers arrived on Galatea. She came into contact with Antonin Rybak, a seemingly rouge Republic agent who helped broker a deal with the Galatean Defense League to clear her family’s name and allow her and her unit to operate legally. This would also bring her into contact with Irisz Magyari and her growing alliance of mercenaries.
Alexis’ goals are straightforward; to live as honest a life as she can with the hand that she has been dealt. She holds no illusions as to her grandfather’s actions, but also feels that she should have a chance to make her own way in the world. She is fiercely protective of her men, and has shown a short temper and propensity to lash out when angered or they are threatened.
Mad Cat (Timber Wolf) Thirteen
Mass: 75 tons
Chassis: Type W3 Endo Steel
Powerplant: Starfire 375 XL
Cruising Speed: 54 kph
Maximum Speed: 86 kph
Jump Jets: JF Standard
Jump Capacity: 120 meters
Armour: Composite A-2 Ferro-Fibrous
Armament:
2 Series 6b Extended Range Large Lasers
2 Series 2b Extended Range Medium Lasers
1 Series 1 Extended Range Small Laser
2 Type XX “Great Bow” LRM-20 Launchers
Comm System: Khan Series (Type 2c)
T&T System: Series III OPT
Among Thomas Fairchild’s numerous exploits was a raid on the Wolf Occupation Zone that wound up netting him an additional prize on top of his objectives; specifically he was able to capture a mostly intact Mad Cat OmniMech. This machine would become his signature for the rest of his career, and would be a factor in his success. Like Thomas, the Mad Cat, which he nicknamed Thirteen for some unknown reason, disappeared at the end of the Jihad, and remained unaccounted for in its aftermath.
It would not appear again until 3137 when it was ‘gifted’ to Alexis by her supposed benefactors. She would use the OmniMech in a number of operations on their behalf, making full use of its capabilities. As her grandfather had before her, she left a trail of destruction in her wake; a trail that would eventually return to Al Jubaylah and those same benefactors once she turned on them. She continued to use the ‘Mech in the aftermath of her liberation, having apparently arranged a steady supply of parts and support for the ‘Mech. Given that she has operated in the Free Worlds League, this would likely come from Spina Khanate, although what the Clan agents are getting in return is unclear.
Alexis has proven particularly adept at using the OmniMech against Wolf Empire forces. The sight of a Mad Cat in the hands of a freeborn mercenary has proven to be enraging to many Trueborn warriors, a fact that she has readily taken advantage of. On Alchiba she was able to defeat Star Captain Lucius Radick through this method, luring him into a duel on her terms.
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Noburo Tomino
Position/Rank: Chu-sa
Affiliation/Unit: Draconis Combine/1st Genyosha
Birth Year: 3109
Noburo Tomino was the first son of a Benjamin noble family who had a history of service to the Dragon going back centuries. It was expected that he would continue that tradition; certainly if Noburo had any issues with doing such he did not let them show and instead accepted his duty like a loyal Combine citizen.
While his status would have granted him no small advantage within the DCMS, Noburo proved that he was more than capable of succeeding on his own merit. His family’s connections and his own skills saw him earn a place at the Sun Zhang academy, where he immediately displayed considerable skill as both a MechWarrior and an officer. During wargames his forces were consistently successful, with Noburo racking up a considerable string of victories. While many of these often included heavy losses by his own forces, he was able to justify these as necessary sacrifices to bring about greater success for the Dragon.
During his education, Noburo showed a particular interest in anti-Clan tactics, a necessity given his likely assignment to one of the Benjamin District regiments that would be on the frontlines against the Rasalhague Dominion. This training focused not only on the issues of fighting a foe equipped with superior technology, but how to conduct a battle in an honourable manner suitable of a true Samurai without sacrificing victory. He would go on to author a term paper that suggested that while the Federated Suns may be the oldest enemy of the Dragon, the Bear was its greatest threat, using the losses suffered in the two Combine-Dominion wars as justification for his arguments.
Following his cadre period, Noburo Tomino was awarded a billet in the prestigious 2nd Benjamin Regulars. The regiment was a part of the forces marshaled for the invasion of the Republic of the Sphere following the Blackout, seeking to reclaim ‘lost’ Combine worlds. In his first actual battles, Noburo proved to be both an adept MechWarrior and leader, scoring a string of victories against the remnant forces found in the former Republic. These would leave him somewhat dissatisfied, however, feeling that the depleted planetary guard units, ad-hoc militias and mercenary forces that he faced were not ‘worthy’ opponents.
Things changed as he Combine pushed deeper into the former Republic, driving towards Dieron and the walls of Fortress Republic. In this effort they were supported by the forces of Clan Nova Cat, with Noburo’s company assigned to work alongside a mixed Trinary from the Clan. At first, he was somewhat wary of his counterpart, Star Captain Milo Nostra, due to their background. This distance would evolve into a serious rivalry as each sought to out-perform the other, driven both by their own honour to succeed, and at a deeper level, a distrust of the other.
The net result was that Noburo’s drive to succeed bought him to attention of his superiors. In 3140, he was transferred to the elite 1st Genyosha regiment, positioned at the heart of the thrust towards the heart of the Republic, and rewarded with a new BattleMech. The unit would then become the key to the Combine’s putting down of the Nova Cat uprising, facing the Clan on a number of worlds. Noburo would face Clan forces on several planets, including his homeworld of Benjamin. This was followed by their assault on Irece where they would end the Nova Cats. During the battle, Tomino faced Milo Nostra, killing the Clan warrior in a duel.
Tomino was promoted in the aftermath of the assault, remaining with the Genyosha. After the success of the opening wave of Operation TIAMAT, his unit is positioned on the cusp of Terra. And while the Combine is expecting to face the Republic in the future, some feel that an office who is skilled in facing Clan opponents could become a necessity.
While a dedicated samurai of the Combine, Tomino has also written several novels that were published under aliases.
SH-2P Shiro Shiroi Akuma
Mass: 75 tons
Chassis: Luthien Class 74-77 Endo Steel
Powerplant: Ford 375 XL
Cruising Speed: 54 kph
Maximum Speed: 86 kph
Jump Jets: None
Jump Capacity: None
Armour: Durallex Ballistic-Reinforced
Armament:
1 Type DDS Kingston Extended-Range PPC
4 Shigunga C Type LRM-10s
Comm System: Cipher ComSys 4 with Guardian ECM Suite
T&T System: Neko Megane 7
While the Tomino clan had generations of service to the Dragon, they had not possessed a family BattleMech since their last one was destroyed during the Jihad. This had left them at the mercy of the Dragon’s generosity for several generations; however, the Combine did not forget their faithful service. Noburo’s performance during his academy years, as well as his family’s connections, saw him assigned a Hatamoto-Suna during his time with the 2nd Benjamin. As a true samurai, he accepted the BattleMech without reservation.
On his transfer to the 1st Genyosha, Tomino was gifted with a new SH-2P Shiro as a reward for his service. Tomino immediately took a shine to the new BattleMech, seeing it as an embodiment of the Combine’s superiority. Outside of simple training and drilling, he would spend hours on perfecting his skills with the BattleMech’s sword.
His skills at its controls served him well in the annihilation of the Nova Cats, where he personally defeated a number of opponents. The BattleMech soon earned the nickname Shiroi Akuma from those that faced it, due to the skill and ferocity of its pilot. The last and most significant of its Nova Cat victims was old rival, Milo Nostra, the two facing off during the last days of the conflict. During their first and last battle, Tomino was able to defeat Nostra’s Sphinx after a fierce and bloody clash.
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Wild bin Ottoman
Position/Rank: None
Affiliation/Unit: Mercenary/None
Birth Year: 3104
The dream of the Republic of the Sphere was that any citizen could elevate themselves through hard work and service to others. However, there were also plenty who sought to rise themselves up by other means, and saw different paths to power.
Wild bin Ottoman was one such individual. Born into a laborer family on Small World, he would come to desire wealth and power, but at his own terms. Wild fell in with the Red Jackals, a powerful gang who had their hands in a number of different operations including protection rackets, narcotics, gambling and inter-Prefecture smuggling. Initially starting out as a courier, his combination of physical strength and skill for violence saw him rise quickly through their ranks. Not held back by any sense of restraint or remorse for his actions, he soon became a powerful and respected figure among their number.
Following the ‘accidental’ death of one of the gang’s inner circle in 3130, Wild ascended to his place. Now given a position of authority, he pushed the Red Jackals to step up their activities. For the next two years they would wage a war across the planet’s underworld as they aggressively moved on other syndicates, caving into their rivals’ territories and operations. While one of the leaders of this push, Wild also fought on the proverbial frontlines, a move that was as much about using his skills as it was building support within the group.
The HPG Blackout of August 3132 barely registered in the ongoing gang war, but it did seem to give him thought. As if he knew what would be coming, Wild cut and run from the gang, escaping with a supply of hard currency and other valuables to enact his future. As a way of covering his tracks, he also left a series of tip-offs to the authorities that exposed the leadership and major operations of the Red Jackals.
Believing that power would now come through force of arms, Wild bin Ottoman used his resources and skills to find a place in Bannson’s Raiders. By March of 3133 he was a member of the Band of Five, a group that suited his propensity for violence and remorseless nature. He had managed to win himself a then-rare position as a MechWarrior, having presumably been trained by the Raiders. He was able to maintain his position through a series of battles that included several confirmed BattleMech kills, with his brutal skills having transferred well to his new position.
Ottoman was one of the few members of the Band of Five who were outside of Fortress Republic when the walls went up. Like the other remnants, he was folded into the Scourge, although kept on a distinct ‘outsider’ status due to internal unit politics. Following the coup that deposed Jacob Bannson, he fell out of favour, likely due to his past affiliations. This resulted in him apparently deserting from his post, managing to take his BattleMech with him.
Wild would spend several years working as an independent mercenary in the diminishing former Republic, but found that his past employment counted heavily against him. He would eventually resurface on Herotitus in 3141, where he became a part of the Periphery mercenary market. Given its lack of regulations and ‘no questions asked’ approach to employment, he found far greater success then he had in the Inner Sphere.
Age has somewhat tempered Wild bin Ottoman away from the brutal, violent man that he was in his youth. However, he still remains an aggressive edge that has served him well both on the battlefield and in seeking employment. For the moment, he has remained independent rather than signing on with any one unit, apparently preferring the personal power that comes from picking and choosing jobs.
HCT-5D Hatchetman Cellat
Mass: 45 tons
Chassis: Dorwinion HCT Standard
Powerplant: GM 180 XL
Cruising Speed: 43 kph
Maximum Speed: 64 kph
Jump Jets: Rawlings 80
Jump Capacity: 120 meters
Armour: Durallex Medium
Armament:
1 Imperator Automatic Ultra-10 Autocannon
1 Defiance B3M Extended-Range Medium Laser
Comm System: TharHes Thalia HM-22
T&T System: TharHes Ares 8A with Targeting Computer
Much like it’s MechWarrior, Wild bin Ottoman’s Hatchetman has had numerous twists in its life. The ‘Mech was built in 3064 and immediately pressed into service during the FedCom civil war. It would ultimately end up fighting on both sides of the conflict, after being captured and put back into the field. It would then fight in the Jihad, eventually becoming a part of the fledgling Republic Armed forces. It would fight against the Capellan Confederation on Tikonov during the dawn of the Republic, and again during the Capellan Crusades.
The BattleMech was apparently stolen from the Tybalt planetary guard in the chaos after the Blackout, presumably at the behest of Jacob Bannson. It was assigned to Wild bin Ottoman, who showed a considerable interest in the ‘Mech’s hatchet and the possibilities that it presented. His ferocity proved to adapt well to the battlefield, where he came to specialize in melee combat. In one notable example on Basalt, he defeated a Steel Wolf Shockwave with a sudden, frenzied hatchet attack after his Ultra autocannon failed.
Wild has continued to use the ‘Mech, which he nicknamed Cellat since, making it the only BattleMech he has used in his entire career. He has so far shown no interest in upgrading to a heavier design, although that is less about any attachment to the BattleMech as it is the realities of being an independent mercenary in the Periphery.
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Zaki Toto
Position/Rank: Commander
Affiliation/Unit: Mercenary/Toto’s Bushrangers
Birth Year: 3102
Zaki Toto was born on Gant, a world left to wither following the secession of the Calderon Protectorate. His early life was one of deprivation, spent scavenging in the ruins of the failed colony and managing a subsistence existence. Added to the hazards that the world presented was the threat of pirate attacks that would swoop down and take what little that the populace had.
Ironically, these attacks would prove to be responsible for the break Toto needed. In 3119, Barret’s Bushrangers dropped onto the world in order to clear out a pirate band that had been attacking nearby systems. Seeing an opportunity, he stowed away on one of their DropShips, and would not be discovered until they were docking with their JumpShip. Connie Barret, the young commander of the unit, was impressed with his skills and resourcefulness in what he had done, but also the sheer guts needed to try and pull it off. She offered him a place in the unit, even if it was simply as a scout and scrounger, putting his skills to work. Zaki was glad to accept the offer, seeing it as a pathway to better things.
His skills served the Bushrangers well, keeping him in Barett’s favour. In addition to expanding his scouting skills, Toto undertook informal MechWarrior training as a way to expand his options. This would pay off well for him, as following the unit’s losses on Misery, he was promoted to a MechWarrior position in order to make up for casualties. The subsequent unit merger and reforming as Raymond’s Roughnecks (with Connie Raymond reclaiming her family name) served to cement his place within its revised structure.
Connie Raymond kept him close as the unit grew, as much for his skills as ensuring that she would have somebody personally loyal to her. Embracing the prestige of being a MechWarrior at the time, he seemed to be unconcerned about her own plans and agenda, either blind to her obsession with revenge or simply ignoring it for his own benefit. She in turn rewarded that loyalty, promoting him several times; by 3137 he was the overall third-in-command of the unit. His responsibilities would eventually grow to include managing Connie’s two children as they took up active positions within the unit.
The Ashburton debacle caused the first cracks in his loyalty as Connie tried using her own children as bargaining chips against a Wolf Empire force. While he was opposed to the idea on moral grounds, he also saw the logic in her actions. His doubts would only grow with the alliances she formed over the next two years, seeing her actions as being potentially risky and driven by her own desire for revenge; however, he would remain loyal regardless, possibly not wanting to compromise his position.
That loyalty would reach breaking point during the battle of Hindmarsh. Seeing first-hand the way that Connie Raymond was willing to sacrifice her own men for her revenge, he chose to retreat from the battlefield and leave her to her fate. The survivors rallied around him, seeing him as being the highest ranking officer who was not connected to Raymond’s madness. In the aftermath of the battle, he acted as a spokesman for the surviving Roughnecks, offering their surrender.
Seeking to make a fresh start, and feeling that his men would no longer be welcome on Galatea, Zaki Toto left to Herotitus, taking a number of the surviving Roughnecks with him. Seeking to break with their tainted history, Toto renamed the unit, reclaiming the Bushrangers name. So far, his fledgling unit has begun to grow, although thus far many of the recruits have been from among the dregs of the market who have little to lose by signing on to a unit in such dire state.
Presently, the Bushrangers are in a position where they could just as easily thrive as they could collapse or fall to piracy. While he does not have much to work with, Toto has demonstrated that he is resourceful and adaptable, and is no longer bound by loyalty to somebody ruled by their obsessions. In many ways, his life has come full circle, once again driven by the simple goal to survive; something he excels at.
TNS-4S Thanatos (modified)
Mass: 75 tons
Chassis: StarFrame Heavy Endo Steel
Powerplant: Plasmastar 375 XL
Cruising Speed: 54 kph
Maximum Speed: 86 kph
Jump Jets: Audi-Fokker Mark IV
Jump Capacity: 150 meters
Armour: Durallex Heavy
Armament:
1 Parti-Kill Snub-Nosed PPC
2 Defiance Model XII Extended Range Medium Lasers
1 RAMTech 600P Medium Pulse Laser
1 Spencer Selectable MML-9
Comm System: Garret T60 FastScan with Guardian ECM Suite
T&T System: Garret F22C
Zaki Toto’s first BattleMech was an elderly, battered Stinger that was simply all the Roughnecks had to spare. Despite its small size and limited capabilities, the ‘Mech would serve him well for several years, allowing him to gain key experience on the battlefield. After five years he had upgraded to a Shadow Hawk, which well suited his preference for mobile fighting. During the early years after the Blackout, Toto’s ‘Mech would see considerable action as Connie Raymond sought to aggressively expand her unit.
After being promoted to third-in-command of the unit, Connie bought him a heavier BattleMech to better suit his new role. This Thanatos was an old example of the design that had fought in various conflicts going all the way back to the FedCom civil war. At one point it had been rebuilt into a custom configuration, one that Zaki quickly adapted to. Aside from acting as a mobile striker and cavalry unit, he also used the ‘Mech to serve as a close-range compliment to Raymond’s Falconer.
The ‘Mech was badly damaged on Hindmarsh, but survived long enough to retreat from the lost battlefield. While Toto had it rebuilt, he chose to retain its unique configuration out of familiarity. As the leader of the reformed Bushrangers, Toto leads the unit from the front, a move that is as much about his commitment as it is about the necessities of their situation.
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Lucius Radick
Position/Rank: Star Captain
Affiliation/Unit: Wolf Empire/Beta Galaxy
Birth Year: 3115
Being identified as a ristar within the Clans is a double-edged sword. On one side, it can be a fast track to success, power and prestige in their society. On the other, a ristar who fails to live up to expectations can find themselves falling hard and fast. Lucius Radick is one such case where a promising rise appears to have stalled, potentially leaving him on the precipice.
Decanted in 3115 on Tamar, Lucius showed considerable skill from his earliest aptitude tests. His successes in his sibko were as much about his own abilities as they were playing his sibkin off against each other, exposing their weaknesses and quietly inflaming their personal feuds to his benefit. He quickly earned the favour of his instructors and keen interest from members of the Radick Bloodhouse who saw potential in him.
Lucius graduated through his Trial of Position with two kills (and coming close to his third) as a Star Commander. Assigned to Beta Galaxy’s 13th Wolf Guards Battle Cluster, he first saw action in the Clan’s incursion into Prefecture IX. During that campaign, he scored a number of easy victories against the mercenary and ad-hoc militia forces that he faced. It was during the invasion of the Marik-Stewart Commonwealth that he would truly shine, achieving a number of kills against AMSC opponents.
In 3140 he competed for and won his Bloodname, and was promoted to Star Captain, in addition to being assigned a new Warwolf OmniMech. His Trinary would see considerable action during the invasion of the Lyran Commonwealth, each time Lucius proving the faith that his superiors had put in him was not misplaced. In one key action, his Trinary was responsible for cutting off vital Lyran reinforcements, resulting in the destruction of the 10th Lyran Guards. He would see action on a number of other worlds, including the battle for Tharkad.
By 3145 his success seemed assured; driven, determined, ruthless and a skilled warrior and politician, he had the favour of powerful figures within the Radick Bloodhouse. Many had tipped him to replace Star Colonel Don Cooper as the leader of the 13th in the near future. Instead, a series of events would put his position in jeopardy.
Early in the year, the Trinary was on Keystone to collect new supplies and equipment when the world was raided by Magyari’s Irregulars. Motivated as much by the desire to defend the Clan’s resources as a desire to bolster his image, Lucius moved his unit to intercept the raiders, seeking to trap them between his BattleMechs and the vehicles of the 5th Wolf Garrison Cluster. Instead, the mercenaries were able to outmaneuver and fight through his force, escaping easily with only light damage. Lucius was angered by this defeat, and sought a way to avenge himself.
That chance would come later in the year, when he led a raid on Ashburton where the Irregulars were currently engaged in a pirate-hunting contract. After easily defeating a pirate lance, Lucius turned his attention to the Irregulars. His plan was to face them in a straight-up battle where they could not simply cut and run, and where his forces would prove superior. Instead, the mercenaries defeated his Trinary, forcing them into retreat. Adding to his humiliation was his defeat in a one-on-one duel with Irisz Magyari, a battle that should have been on his terms.
He would spend the next two years fighting off challenges to his position while trying to retain some of his honour and prestige. A third blow would come in 3148 when he faced off with a raid by Fairchild’s Ravagers on Alchiba, aimed at destroying Wolf Empire supplies. Enraged by the sight of a freebirth piloting a Mad Cat, he challenged Alexis Fairchild to a duel, only to again be defeated and forced to retreat.
Lucius Radick is presently walking a knife edge. It is clear that he has lost the favour of his superiors through his defeats, and is no longer considered to be the ristar he once was. However, his tenacity and determination, as well as his skills in playing his opponents against each other, have helped maintain his position. With the Wolf Empire poised on the cusp of Terra, it remains to be seen if he will yet find some way to reclaim his past glory.
Warwolf Prime Black Fang
Mass: 75 tons
Chassis: WW-1 Heavy Endo Steel
Powerplant: Starfire 375 XL
Cruising Speed: 54 kph
Maximum Speed: 86 kph
Jump Jets: BMP Series XV
Jump Capacity: 90 meters
Armour: Forging BL2 Reactive
Armament:
1 Series II Gauss Rifle
2 Type X “Short Bow” LRM-10 Launchers
1 Beamsplitter Laser Anti-Missile System
Comm System: Garrett T11-b
T&T System: Sync Tracker (39-04271) with Targeting Computer
The Warwolf was developed by the Wolf Clan, but the depleted infrastructure of their old Occupation Zone prevented it from seeing mass production until the creation of the Wolf Empire. Even then, supply issues would see it only reach limited production. As a result, the Warwolf is usually only issued to ristars and prominent officers.
Lucius Radick’s Warwolf was assigned to him straight off the production line, a gift from his backers in the Radick Bloodhouse. The OmniMech suited his duelling style, using the Primary configuration’s combination of gauss rifle and targeting computer to great effect. Where possible, he would take precise shots to disable opponents by focusing on weak spots or damaged components. Of course, these actions were as much about tactical expediency as they were for the benefit of his codex. Despite his skills, Lucius would suffer a trio of defeats at the hands of freeborn opponents; two of which would be in one-on-one duels.
Even with these reversals, Lucius has been able to retain control of his Warwolf, albeit not without facing several Trials of Possession for it. That his opponents have seen the OmniMech as being desirable despite the losses he has suffered behind its controls makes it clear that the issue is seen as being with him and not any flaws on its part.
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Guest character courtesy of KayEmm
Atino
Position/Rank: Captain
Affiliation/Unit: Pirate/Steel Tygers
Birth Year: 3123 (approximately)
The collapse of the Free Worlds League left numerous worlds orphaned, independent of the states that emerged in its wake. These worlds would effectively be left to their own fates, including seeing to their own defense. As can be imagined, these worlds were fertile prey for pirate bands who took advantage of the lack of authority and protection across the region.
The Steel Tygers were one such band. Emerging around 3125, they preyed on the rift of independent worlds that lay in the anti-spinward region. Despite several skirmishes with the Marik Protectors, as well as other mercenaries hired by the independent worlds, they would continue to operate with relative impunity for years. The period between the Blackout and commencement of Operation HAMMERFALL were their golden years as they fed off the chaos around them, with the inability of worlds to quickly communicate with each other helping their cause.
This success would not last, however. The reformation of the Free Worlds League would include the absorption of a number of independent worlds under its umbrella, reducing the range of targets available to them. Further expansion, as well as predation from Regulus and Andurien, would only serve to further diminish their territories. Clashes with federal forces, as well as mercenaries, saw the band suffer considerable losses. By 3147, the Steel Tygers had been forced to abandon their base of operations and push further into the rimward region simply to stay alive.
An unexpected event saw their fortunes change considerably in early 3148. A group led by a man identifying himself as Atino forced their way into the pirate band. After a short, bloody internal purge, Atino took command of the group, silencing anyone who would dare oppose him. Soon he had the loyalty of the band, and set about using it to its fullest.
Despite his relative youth, being only twenty-four at the time, he quickly proved to be a capable leader, helping to turn around the Steel Tygers’ failing fortunes. Using a combination of surprisingly accurate intelligence, careful planning and, when needed, swift and violent assaults, he was able to score a number of decisive victories for the pirate band. While backing away from the reformed Free Worlds League, he instead focused on the remaining independent worlds, as well as preying on Canopian targets, taking advantage of the latter’s preoccupation with the Capellan front.
While Atino refused to say anything about his background (to the point of threatening those that asked), it became abundantly clear that he had prior military training. While their numbers may have been reduced, under his leadership the Steel Tygers became faster and more mobile, adept at sudden strikes against poorly protected targets, while also ensuring that they faced minimal resistance. Likewise, their forces became better disciplined and more coordinated, a step above most other pirates.
Investigation into his past revealed a familial DNA link to Tuwile Ngroma, an officer in the 50th Shadow Division who remained unaccounted for at the end of the Jihad. This has in turn led to speculation that he may have been involved with a Blakist remnant group, such as the (now destroyed) Al Jubaylah cabal. The timing of his emergence coincides with the destruction of that group, suggesting that he may have escaped its fate.
Regardless of his background, Atino remains a threat as long as he remains in command of the Steel Tygers. Presently his position within the unit is secure, and unless the pirate band suffers some severe setback or loss, that is unlikely to change. Conversely, he could also represent a potential goldmine of information to anyone able to extract him.
SHD-7H Shadow Hawk Tarnished Angel
Mass: 55 tons
Chassis: Earthworks SHD II Endo Steel
Powerplant: Hermes 275 Light
Cruising Speed: 54 kph
Maximum Speed: 86 kph
Jump Jets: Chilton 360
Jump Capacity: 150 meters
Armour: Maximillian 43
Armament:
1 Imperator Code Red LB 10-X Autocannon
1 Diverse Optics Extended Range Medium Laser
1 Holly Enhanced LRM-5 Launcher
1 Holly SRM-2 Launcher
Comm System: Neil 9000
T&T System: RCA Instatrac Mark XII
Unlike its pilot, Atino’s Shadow Hawk has a known history. The BattleMech was captured from the Rim Commonality Guards during a raid in 3143 by the Steel Tygers, and was claimed by the pirate band’s previous leader, Tommy Nguyen. Even as the pirate band’s territories continued to shrink, the BattleMech would become a familiar sight to their victims and Nguyen continued to aggressively lead their attacks.
He would continue to use the BattleMech for the next five years, until Atino arrived and challenged him for leadership. The pair of them fought a brief duel which resulted in Nguyen’s death and Atino unquestionably in command of the Steel Tygers. The new leader would claim the BattleMech as his own, a move that was as much about its capabilities as it was a symbolic gesture aimed at solidifying his place at the head of the pirate band.
While the Shadow Hawk is one of the heaviest ‘Mechs in the Tygers’ arsenal, Atino is well aware that it is also not the most powerful. In the field, his moves are more tactical in nature, focusing on eliminating weakened opponents or vehicles that are more vulnerable to his autocannon and missile armament. When he does engage another BattleMech head on, he does his utmost to ensure that he is in a superior position.
Atino renamed the Shadow Hawk as Tarnished Angel. Whether this is a nod of the head towards his origins or something else is unclear.
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Zebadiah Craine
Position/Rank: Princeps
Affiliation/Unit: Marian Hegemony/III Legio
Birth Year: 3116
Born into a patrician family on Stafford, Zebadiah Craine lived a life of entitlement from an early age. Wealthy by Marian standards, his family ensured that, as their first son, he had the best that there was to offer. This gave him a taste for luxury, one that would come to colour his career going forward. While it was expected that he would undertake millitary service, his family’s wealth and connections ensured that he would again have the best that the MHAF had to offer.
Zebadiah Craine graduated from the Collegium Bellorum Imperium with high marks, the result of both his own skill and his family’s influence. The two in combination saw him assigned a place as a Centurion within III Legio Limetanei’s Tertia Cohors, given command of a heavy BattleMech Century. He immediately found the differences on the worlds the Legio were assigned to garrison to be stark; Hazelton, Huntingdon and Landfall had all been part of the Free Worlds League until its dissolution, and as such, were far better developed than the rest of the Hegemony. This would serve to feed his need for luxuries and sense of entitlement, which would influence his further career.
He gladly supported III Legio’s raids into the reformed Free Worlds League for several reasons. First and foremost was a way of furthering his own career by bringing glory to himself through military victories. But on top of that was the frequent secondary objectives of the Legio’s raids. Not only did they capture military supplies and equipment, but they also would pillage their target worlds of luxury goods, hard currency and other wealth, most of which would end up in the hands of officers like him.
After several years of success, this campaign of raiding would come undone. In 3145 the Tertia Cohors targeted Kendall in the hope of acquiring military supplies from its factories. However, as with other attacks, the secondary goal was to line the pockets of the legion’s officers. The attackers went in expecting an easy victory, confident that they would be able to pick off their targets at leisure. However, fate had different plans in store.
Unknown to the Marians, the Kendall government had hired the Dark Suns mercenary company against such an occurrence. As a result, what was intended as a fast raid instead bogged down as the Marians were forced to fight against an experienced force that matched their capabilities. After several clashes, the Terita Cohors were forced to retreat off-world.
However, this disaster also proved to be a blessing in disguise for Zebadiah; in the aftermath of the debacle, he formed an alliance with his commander, Legatus Jamaal Steen, to shield him from repercussions for his failure. The pair of them manufactured evidence to shift blame to Princeps Troy Traviss, who conveniently had died in the final retreat. In return for his protection, Legatus Steen promoted Craine to take Traviss’ place.
With his position secure, Craine saw the invasion of the Free Worlds League as an opportunity for greater glory. He participated in a number of III Legio’s initial strikes, scoring key victories against the Free Worlds forces, proving his skills while continuing to raise his profile in the eyes of his superiors. The conquest of Gibraltar would turn that around; anticipating lining his own pockets with plunder, he would instead find himself caught up in a protracted guerrilla war that left the Legio unable to capitalize on their conquests.
For Craine, relief would come after a fashion when the Cohort was redeployed to Illyria to try and repel the FWLM’s assault. While ultimately unsuccessful, he would see one indirect benefit in the death of Prefect Mohammed Kilgore. With the loss of the Legion’s commander, Craine saw the opportunity for a further promotion as the unit was forced to rebuild.
HGN-740 Highlander Rex Aureum
Mass: 90 tons
Chassis: Star League XT
Powerplant: GM 270
Cruising Speed: 32 kph
Maximum Speed: 54 kph
Jump Jets: HildCo Model 10
Jump Capacity: 90 meters
Armour: Grumman-4 Light Ferro-Fibrous
Armament:
1 Johnston High-Speed Extended Range PPC with Capacitor
2 Defiance Model XII Extended Range Medium Lasers
1 Holly LRM-20 Launcher
1 Harpoon-6S Streak SRM-6 Launcher
4 TacShot M-Pods
Comm System: Hector VII
T&T System: Starlight LX-1 with Artemis IV FCS
Like everything else in his life, Zebidiah Craine’s BattleMech represents his demand for wealth and comforts. Initially he was assigned to an elderly Cataphract that had been in service with the MHAF for decades. Never satisfied with the ‘Mech, he constantly sought an opportunity for something better. None the less, he showed that he was a capable MechWarrior even if he was dissatisfied with his ride. During the Kendall debacle, his skills allowed him to score several kills against both mercenary and militia forces before being forced to retreat off-world.
He would get his chance at an upgrade a year later when III Legio captured a shipment of brand new BattleMechs from Starcorps on Son Hoa. The heaviest of them was a Highlander which Craine immediately claimed for himself, citing his rank as justification. He immediately took a liking to the new machine, appreciating it as much for its capabilities as the sheer prestige of piloting such a well-known and well-renowned design.
Dubbed Rex Aureum, the Highlander would serve him well in the Hegemony’s drive into the reformed Free Worlds League. Craine would rack up a number of kills during the campaign, while the ‘Mech’s rugged design would protect him throughout. He was less successful during the counter-attack on Illyria, however, where the Free Worlds forces and their mercenary allies held the upper hand. Nonetheless, both he and his BattleMech were able to survive the failed relief of the world.
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Tribute character for Stoatbo, inspired by several of his characters
Taphault van Nurdlehammer
Position/Rank: Lieutenant
Affiliation/Unit: Mercenary/Krymzon Guard
Birth Year: 3107
Taphault van Nurdlehammer’s career as a MechWarrior is a case of unexpected circumstances and making the best of a bad situation.
Nothing in his early life would have suggested that such an outcome was likely, however. He was born into a middle-class family on Carsphairn, and showed an interest in technology and its applications from an early age. Taphault earned his Republic citizenship through volunteer work, helping to rehabilitate and rebuild the city of Sutton’s ancient and failing water system. Undertaking further education, he graduated university with a master’s degree in engineering.
After several early jobs, he was headhunted by Kali Yama Industries to a role in their Kalidasa factory shortly before the Blackout. As military production ramped up and the situation in the Republic deteriorated, his skills were ever-increasingly needed by the company, earning him a series of rapid promotions. By 3137, he had become coordinator for total quality management throughput processes, a role that was tied to numerous functions throughout the facility.
His career took an unexpected twist when Wolf Clan forces attacked the world, seeking to add it to their growing empire. At that point, due to Kalidasa’s effective abandonment by the Republic, the factory was being protected by the Krymzon Guards mercenary battalion. During the initial strike, van Nurdlehammer was engaged in a team-building exercise at Camp Eekirik, a facility owned by the company that the Krymzon Guards were also using as a billet. He and the others there were cut off by the Wolf invasion, and unable to return to the company proper. These circumstances would work in their favour when they would be taken offworld by the retreating mercenaries.
Recognizing his skills, the Krymzon Guards initially hired him as a technician, putting him straight to work. While retraining to work on BattleMechs, van Nurdlehammer showed an unexpected degree of skill as an actual MechWarrior, despite having never even undertaking IndustrialMech training previously. Impressed by this development, Isabella de Luca offered him a place in her lance, sweetening the deal with the lure of a heavy, Clantech BattleMech (that the pilot of said ‘Mech had recently been killed while at its controls was omitted at the time).
Seeing an opportunity, and more than a little bit curious as to what this would entail, Taphault agreed to her offer. After undergoing more complete (albeit rushed) training, he was essentially thrown straight onto the battlefield as a part of her unit. Despite his inexperience, Taphault would not only survive the experience, but demonstrate no small degree of skill. His extensive knowledge of engineering, machinery and buzzwords translated surprisingly well to the battlefield, giving him an impressive ability to micromanage his BattleMech and react to changing circumstances.
In addition to his role on the battlefield, Taphault also is a part of the Krymzon Guards’ technical staff. While he does a lot of repair work himself, especially on his own BattleMech, he often serves in a supervisory role, allocating work as needed. The Krymzon Guards’ propensity towards ‘technical victories’ means that he is often kept incredibly busy in simply keeping the unit functioning. Their leader’s often casual attitude towards managing her unit does not help his situation any.
For the moment, despite the constant frustration it seems to bring him, Taphault van Nurdlehammer seems to be content with his situation and position. Or, alternatively, he may have realised that he is simply too far in to go back to anything else.
Orion IIC (modified) Bathsalts
Mass: 75 tons
Chassis: ype W-2 Endo Steel
Powerplant: Type I 300 XL
Cruising Speed: 43 kph
Maximum Speed: 64 kph
Jump Jets: None
Jump Capacity: None
Armour: Composite A-4 Ferro-Fibrous
Armament:
1 Devastator Ultra AC/20
2 Kolibri Delta Series Large Pulse Lasers
2 Type XV “Crossbow” LRM-15 launchers
Comm System: Khan Series (Type 1)
T&T System: Series III OPT
Due to their propensity towards questionable victories and dubious conduct, the Krymzon Guards have a high turnover rate for their BattleMech roster. However, there are a few examples that have been with the unit for some time. Possibly the most unusual of which is a single Orion IIC, inexplicably known as Bathsalts.
The BattleMech was captured during a raid on the Wolf Occupation Zone in 3055, and claimed by Casual Stoatbo, one of the unit’s officers. After (expensive) repairs, it was pressed back into service with the Guards, and see action with them for years to come. It saw heavy usage during the battles for Grim Plopsus in the Chaos March, where Stoatbo would find equal parts success and defeat with the ‘Mech during a seemingly circular conflict.
Heavy damage suffered during the campaign and others would see it rebuilt several times with whatever Clan-spec weaponry and components the Guard were able to acquire. This would result in its configuration changing numerous times as weapons were destroyed and replaced with whatever came to hand. About the only thing that didn’t change was the nickname and eye-catching colour scheme that made it stand out, even as a BattleMech that was not usually seen outside of one Clan.
Dung its long life with the unit, Bathsalts has passed through the hands of a number of different MechWarriors. What few have mentioned, however, is the number of those that have died behind the controls of the BattleMech. It remains to be seen if Taphault van Nurdlehammer can avoid becoming another footnote in its history.
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Guest character courtesy of KayEmm
Kerrah Vozka
Position/Rank: Star Captain
Affiliation/Unit: Free Worlds League/Purifiers
Birth Year: 3110
Like her fellow Spirit Cats, Kerrah Vozka is a survivor, one whose life has undergone a series of unexpected twists over the last two decades. A fierce warrior, her intensity and loyalty is evident in every aspect of her nature, from her battlefield performance to the ritual tattoos that cover her body.
Kerrah was decanted in a Nova Cat enclave in Prefecture III, the trueborn descendant of Nova Cat warriors who had joined the Republic at its founding. Like her fellows, she was raised in both the cosmopolitan culture of the Republic and the traditions of the Nova Cat Clan. The latter clearly piqued her interest as she grew, with Kerrah immersing herself in the traditions of the Clan, especially its more mystic side. This would lead her towards Senator Kev Rosse and his Spirit Cat movement, a direction that would shape the rest of her life.
She successfully passed her Trial of Position, winning a place as a MechWarrior in one of the Prefecture III Clan Militia Clusters. In service she formed alliances with other warriors of Nova Cat descent who shared her interests, with this small group engaging in a variety of vision quests and other rituals. These were as much for guidance and exploration of their heritage as it was a way to improve their abilities; while she was living in an age of peace, Kerrah, like many others, felt that some great change was on the wind.
The HPG blackout and subsequent discord within the Republic would seem to have proved her correct in her fears. Like the other Spirit Cats, she chose to follow Kev Rosse in his visions and plans to build a new future for his people. Kerrah’s spiritual side and penchant for ritual and visions saw her win a place in the newly-formed Purifiers Cluster, where she joined her fellow mystics. The end of 3132 was spent in training, honing both battlefield skills and mystical abilities, as well as efforts to blend the two.
This training seemed to be successful. Kerrah was a part of the Spirit Cat force first deployed in 3133 on Ozawa, where they faced a Bannson’s Raiders contingent. During her first true battle, she displayed considerable skill as well as an uncanny ability to ‘read’ her opponent and predict their moves. This ability would continue to manifest itself in subsequent clashes, where she would prove to be extremely skilled in duels with enemy BattleMechs.
Kerrah was among the Spirit Cat force that sought to claim the world of Marik for their own; while she had wanted to join with Kev Rosse in reunifying with the Nova Cats, she knew that their leader would have been guided by his own visions and chose not to question his choices. Her success in the battle saw her win a chance at a Bloodname (even if through an abbreviated trial due to current circumstances). Kerrah fought all of her battles augmented, and never once killed an opponent, instead disabling their BattleMechs without harming the warriors inside.
Her promotion to Star Captain has given her some leeway to act on her own visions. Like the other members of the Purifier Cluster, she has a hatred for the Wolf Empire that has driven her to take action against the Clan. Kerrah Voska has lead a number of Trials of Possession against Wolf forces, each one precisely targeted. And while she makes no illusions of her hatred for the Clan, she also shows their warriors the utmost respect, following zellbrigen wherever possible.
In addition to the ongoing conflicts with the Wolves, for the last three years, Kerrah has been calling for action against the Draconis Combine, driven as much by the need to avenge the destruction of the Nova Cats as her own personal visions. While for the moment the Clan Protectorate has no plans for such a move, Kerrah has a growing body of support from her warriors.
Wendigo B Tilikabang
Mass: 50 tons
Chassis: Mynx Type Medium Endo Steel
Powerplant: Consolidated 300 XL
Cruising Speed: 64 kph
Maximum Speed: 96 kph
Jump Jets: Northrup Starlifter M50 Improved
Jump Capacity: 240 meters
Armour: Gamma Special Reflective
Armament:
4 Series 2NC Extended Range Medium Lasers
6 Series 1g ER Small Lasers
Comm System: Sipher CommCon SCU-9 with Guardian ECM
T&T System: Build 5 CAT TTS
For most of her career, Kerrah Voska piloted a Black Hawk 3 that had originally belonged to a RAF Militia Cluster. The BattleMech suited her style well; she appreciated its mobility, and the all-energy armament gave her the precision she needed for her dueling style of combat. The Black Hawk would see her through a number of battles for a decade and a half before it was finally destroyed by Regulan forces during the 3147 deep strike on the Protectorate.
Due to her rank and status, Kerrah would not remain Dispossessed for long. She received a brand-new, Sea Fox-supplied Wendigo as a replacement, and immediately took a shine to the OmniMech. She showed a marked preference for the B configuration, due to its all-energy loadout and array of improved jump jets that gave it a mobility that far exceeded her old Black Hawk. Quickly adapting to the new ‘Mech’s quirks, she was able to resume her highly-focused style of combat.
Kerrah tries to take full advantage of the Wendigo’s capabilities. Where possible, she uses her mobility to isolate and single out enemy ‘Mechs with energy-based loadouts, knowing that her reflective armour will limit their effectiveness. She also often serves as a high-speed delivery platform for Elemental Points, using her jump jets to get them into strategic locations on the battlefield. So far, these tactics have served her well against her Wolf Empire opponents; however, she also yearns for the day when she can unleash Tilikabang (as she has christened the ‘Mech) against the Combine.
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Guest character by KayEmm
Damien Hawkins
Position/Rank: Captain
Affiliation/Unit: Mercenary/Dark Suns
Birth Year: 3101
A lifelong mercenary, Damien Hawkins is rare in that he has spent almost all of his career with the same mercenary unit. The effective second-in-command of the Dark Suns, he has been instrumental in the unit’s reconstruction.
Hawkins’ family originally came from the Free Worlds League, where they were displaced by the collapse of the state (and rumoured Blakist ties). Despite the withering of the mercenary trade at the time, Damien would become the third generation of the family to take up the profession. Trained by his parents as a MechWarrior, he also showed a surprising head for the financial and administrative tasks that were vital to a command’s functioning.
After several short-term roles, Damien was hired in 3127 by Carlos Moreno of the Dark Suns. While initially hired simply to fill a slot in the unit’s structure, Damien quickly put his other skills to work in helping to run the Suns. These skills made him invaluable to Carlos, and the two developed a strong friendship (Carlos would frequently joke that Damien must have actually been a Sea Fox due to his head for numbers). Damien would quickly rise through the unit’s ranks, based as much on his battlefield skills as his financial acumen.
In addition to his other roles, Damien would be invaluable in helping to train Carlos’ daughter, Kari Moreno, for what was seen as her inevitable role as the commander of the Dark Suns. Even though Carlos had no plans to retire in the immediate future, he felt that it would be important for her to be prepared to one day take up his position. That day would come sooner then expected.
The near-destruction of the Dark Suns, as well as the death of Carlos Moreno, on Wrocław would have a profound effect on Damien. Outwardly he remained stoic, accepting that what had happened was an inevitable risk of the mercenary profession. Inwardly he was devastated at the death of his good friend, wracked by survivor’s guilt. In many ways he blamed himself, feeling that he could have saved Carlos’ life or even taken the hit that killed him in his place.
However, rather than being consumed by his guilt, Damien instead threw himself into rebuilding the Dark Suns. Kari Moreno had vowed to go on despite the losses that they had suffered, as much out of honouring the dead as her own determination. Damien supported her every step of the way, seeing the rebirth of the Suns as a way to pay tribute to the dead. His financial and administrative skills would be vital in rebuilding the unit; staunching losses, managing their remaining assets, hiring new personnel and so on. On a more personal level he helped to support Kari, keeping her going and helping to keep her spirits up.
Once reconstituted, Damien became the Dark Suns’ second-in-command after Kari. He would often serve as a key advisor, both on the battlefield and in contract negotiations and in dealing with employers. However, he also was careful not to let Kari become dependent on him, and to help her grow into a position that she had inherited far earlier than expected.
His loyalty to the Moreno family was used against him, when he and Kari were given the opportunity to avenge themselves against the Jade Falcon unit responsible for Carlos’ death. He wholeheartedly supported the plan, unaware that it was in fact a bid by Stephan Kurtz, a LCAF officer, to bolster his own career by using the mercenaries as cannon fodder. While the Dark Suns were able to extract themselves from the debacle, Damien felt guilty over letting his emotions cloud his judgment. While he offered his resignation to Kari, she refused, pointing out that she had also been taken in by the same ploy.
Damien’s dedication has had one downside. Once married, he is now divorced, the result of his spending too much time focused on his work. He has two children that he rarely sees due to the realities of mercenary life and interstellar travel, but at least tries to maintain contact with.
ARC-4M Archer
Mass: 70 tons
Chassis: Earthwerks Archer II Endo Steel
Powerplant: VOX 280
Cruising Speed: 43 kph
Maximum Speed: 64 kph
Jump Jets: None
Jump Capacity: None
Armour: Maximilian 100
Armament:
2 Doombud LRM-20 Launchers
4 Diverse Optics Medium Lasers
Comm System: Neil 9000
T&T System: RCA Instatrac Mark XII with Artemis IV FCS
One of the most common heavy BattleMechs ever built, the Archer has been a mainstay of battlefields since before the formation of the Star League. At nearly a century old, Damien Hawkins’ Archer has had a long career, like many of its kind. Despite being disabled and rebuilt several times, it has managed to remain in more or less continual operation for that time. Originally built to fight the Clan invasion, the ‘Mech passed through numerous hands before coming into his possession.
Damien has piloted the Archer for much of his career. While this particular model is seen as being old by modern standards, he favours its solid, rugged design and reliable performance. He has demonstrated exceptional skill with its LRM launchers, raining down effective long-range fire on enemies while supporting the other Dark Suns. He often pairs himself with Kari Moreno’s Black Knight, providing missile support as she closes in with enemies.
While the ‘Mech is far from the cutting edge and has picked up a few quirks over the years, Damien has no desire to replace it. While he claims that he’s simply well-practiced with the ‘Mech and that upgrading it would be an expense that could be better spent elsewhere, the truth is much more personal. To Damien, this Archer is a link to his past and better times.
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Jie-Le Feng
Position/Rank: Sang-wei
Affiliation/Unit: Capellan Confederation/First Liao Guards
Birth Year: 3119
A dedicated Capellan soldier, Jie-Le Feng is one of a new generation of janshi who have been raised with an expectation of inevitable victory.
The second child of a wealthy mercantile family, Jie-Le was subtly steered towards a military career from an early age. Her family saw such as an opportunity to further their own standing within Capellan society. Well-educated, her teaching emphasized Capellan ideals of loyalty and service to the state, as well as the constant reminders of the losses that the nation had suffered at the hands of their enemies. Jie-Le immersed herself in these beliefs, feeling that she had a duty to her state and her people.
This push increased after the Blackout, as Capellan society became more militant, feeding on the idea of an inevitable vengeance against the Republic. Jie-Le enlisted with the CCAF, with a combination of her own aptitude testing and her family’s influence earning her a spot at the Sarna Martial Academy. Immersion into its own culture served to only heighten her enthusiasm and drive. Constant high marks and impressive performances during simulated exercises showed that she had the skill and discipline to back up her enthusiasm.
She would first see action with the Sarna Martial Academy Cadre as it was deployed to support CCAF forces in operation GREAT FLOOD. During these actions, Jie-Le would demonstrate that her skills were not limited to just the classroom or exercises. As an acting Sao-wei, she showed considerable skill in dealing with Republic forces, as well as militia and other irregular units across the Capellan advance.
One of her first major actions would come on Algot, where her lance were a part of a force tasked with eliminating remnant Republican forces. Expecting insurgents armed with modified IndustrialMechs, the Capellan force was instead surprised by a Swordsworn raid that included BattleMechs. After the death of her commander, Jie-Le was able to rally her forces and turn the tables against their attackers. She then repaid the initial attack in kind, by killing the Swordsworn commander with a well-placed shot.
By 3142 she had received a permanent billet within the reformed First Liao Guards, a unit that was leading the advance into the former Republic. This campaign would bring her into conflict with the Federated Suns, the hated ancestral enemy of the Capellan Confederation. Eager to avenge her nation’s past injustices, Jie-Le would find herself somewhat let down that most of the enemies she faced were instead ad-hoc militias that often offered very little resistance. The defeat of the Guards by the First Federated Suns Armoured Cavalry on Rio would only add to her frustration. While the regiment successfully returned to the world, that they took it effectively unopposed did little to improve her situation.
Her chance for vengeance would come with the launch of Operation TIAMAT, where the First Liao Guards were a spearhead of the Confederation’s drive into the heart of the Republic. On Epsilon Indi, her company played a key role in the destruction of the XIII Hastati Sentinels, with Feng personally dispatching several BattleMechs with accurate, long-ranged fire. Any sense of triumph would be dashed by the subsequent attacks of the Guard’s equipment and stockpiles that left them functionally marooned and unable to continue the campaign and drive towards a seemingly inevitable victory.
Her frustrations have only grow following the debacle on Northwind, but also served to give her a new target. Jie-Le Feng has begun to call for action against the Combine in retaliation for their seeming betrayal, feeling that the Dragon needs to be halted so that the Confederation alone can claim victory. So far, while her cause has found some support among her men, she is yet to receive any official recognition.
TNZ-N3 Tian-zong Thunder King
Mass: 75 tons
Chassis: Hellespont Type TZ Endo-Composite
Powerplant: Rawlings Type 300 XL
Cruising Speed: 43 kph
Maximum Speed: 64 kph
Jump Jets: None
Jump Capacity: None
Armour: Hellespont Lite II Stealth
Armament:
2 Ceres Arms Striker Light PPCs
2 Mydron Concussor Gauss Rifles
Comm System: Ceres Metals Model 777 with Angel ECM System
T&T System: Radcom TXXII
Early in her MechWarrior training, Jie-Le Feng demonstrated exceptional marksmanship skills, laying down precise and accurate long-range fire. Her first BattleMech was a Huron Warrior, assigned to her to allow her to best use those skills. Her feelings about the ‘Mech could be best described as mixed. While she was grateful to the Confederation for giving her the opportunity, she also felt that its name and Native American warrior styling did not suit the image of the modern Capellan people. Of course, the fact that she was piloting a pre-Jihad vintage design may have simply been seen as a quiet insult.
Her transfer to the First Liao Guards and subsequent promotion saw her assigned to a brand-new Tian-zong, a BattleMech chosen as much for the degree that it suited her abilities and its role as a command platform as it was for its prestige. She took an immediate liking to it and adapted her tactics accordingly, preferring to stay at range with her stealth armour active while laying down highly- accurate Gauss fire on her enemies.
At the controls of Thunder King, as she calls the ‘Mech, jie-Le has accrued a number of kills against the enemies of the Capellan people. On Epsilon Indi, she was responsible for the deaths of several Republic officers, all picked off with accurate, long-range fire. Feng’s command lance is presently equipped entirely with stealth-equipped BattleMechs, which like hers are configured for long-range combat, allowing them to control large areas of the battlefield.
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Guest character by Zogster
Lana Kotovski
Position/Rank: Ugala
Affiliation/Unit: Mercenary/Star of Sumer
Birth Year: 3112
Lana Kotovski’s life has been defined by change, and moving in very much unexpected directions. She was born into a Republic noble family on Addicks, themselves the descendants of a Federated Suns family with long ties to the world. Despite her social rank, like every other person in the Republic, Lana needed to earn her Citizenship, a goal that was as much about her own personal drive as the necessities of inheriting her family’s lands and title.
During her training, Lana demonstrated an aptitude for BattleMech operations that was shared with many of her predecessors. On graduation, she was assigned a place as a MechWarrior in the Addicks Planetary Guard. Expecting a quiet tour of duty with very little in the way of real action, Lana was still in the middle of her service during the HPG Blackout, with her unit being vital to maintaining order in the first months afterwards.
She would see her first action in November of that year when Dragon’s Fury troops attacked the world to seize its oil fields. Working alongside ad-hoc Highlanders units, the Addicks Planetary Guard were able to fend off the Combine-aligned attackers. While more than a few members of the Guard chose to join the Highlanders, Lana opted to stay on-world to defend her family and world should the fighting intensify.
Her decision would be justified a few months later when the Spirit Cats came to the world, seeking the same oil fields. This time the Highlanders were unsuccessful in their defense, and chose to retreat off-world. Lana’s unit also pulled back from the Sparro continent, lacking the manpower to displace the Clan force. The battered Guard would hold their station, even as members were headhunted by the Highlanders and Swordsworn into their ranks.
The formation of Fortress Republic, and the subsequent abandonment of Addicks struck a lethal blow to the Guard, with much of its membership simply abandoning their posts. Lana would suffer a further setback in 3137 when the DCMS raided the world. The ad-hoc force under her command managed to turn back the attackers, but not before they put the Kotovski family holdings to the torch as a way of covering their escape.
Not too long afterwards, another force arrived on-world. The Star of Sumer were a mercenary battalion that had been formed by a branch of the Kotovski family over a century prior. They had come looking for resources and support from the Addicks branch of the family, but found that they had nothing to offer. What they did come away with was Lana and several other members of her unit who joined the mercenaries, having realized that they had little reason to stay at their posts otherwise.
Lana’s prior skills and history with the RAF translated well to the mercenary life. Despite the weight that her family’s name carried within the unit, she applied herself and sought to advance on her own merits. Her knowledge of the Republic proved to be particularly useful as the fighting within the former realm intensified, offering the unit opportunities and resources that would be vital to its continued operation. She would be promoted several times, winning the support of the men she led along the way.
In 3147, the Star’s commander, Calvin Morrison, was killed in action. Having risen to second in command of the unit, Lana Kotovski took his place as their leader. Under her control, the Star of Sumer has taken on a somewhat more altruistic approach, preferring to take garrison and support contracts over raids and assaults, and often working for local forces or planetary governments rather than Successor State militaries.
BLR-6G BattleMaster Gilgamesh
Mass: 85 tons
Chassis: Hollis Mark X Endo Steel
Powerplant: GM 340 Light
Cruising Speed: 43 kph
Maximum Speed: 64 kph
Jump Jets: None
Jump Capacity: None
Armour: Starshield Special Heavy
Armament:
1 Magna Hellfire Heavy PPC
4 Magna Starbolt Light PPCs
2 Martell-X Small X-Pulse Lasers
2 Martell Extended-Range Small Lasers
1 Holly Streak SRM-6
Comm System: Sony MSF-31
T&T System: Federated Stalker
The BattleMaster known as Gilgamesh has been with the Star of Sumer since shortly after their founding. The BattleMech was captured by Larissa Kotovski, the unit’s founder and first commander after she killed its MechWarrior in combat. She claimed it as her own and gave it the name that would remain with it for generations to come. During her career, the ‘Mech would serve her well; however, she would be injured numerous times while behind its controls. Following her retirement after being nearly killed, Larissa opted to pass the ‘Mech along to the unit’s next commander.
Gilgamesh survived with the Star of Sumer for over a century, usually serving as the commander’s BattleMech. While it proved to be reliable and resilient, the ‘Mech also developed something of a reputation among the unit due to the surprising number of head hits it took, and the number of times that its pilots would be injured. More than one commander would be killed at the controls of the ‘Mech, earning it a reputation of being cursed, and leading to the joke that the Star of Sumer was led as much from the front as it was from a sickbay bed. Despite this, the BattleMaster would be upgraded several times during its life to keep pace with current technologies, and remains something of a symbol of the unit.
Lana Kotovski inherited Gilgamesh when she joined the unit, even though she was not its commander at the time. She uses the extended reach of its current weapons load to pick her fights and engage her enemies at a range that best suits her and the circumstances of the battle. And, like the previous pilots of the ‘Mech, she has been injured several times while behind the controls.
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Viggo Akerstrom
Position/Rank: Lieutenant
Affiliation/Unit: Mercenary/Magyari’s Irregulars
Birth Year: 3122
Viggo Akerstrom traces his ancestry back to rebels who fought for Rasalhagian independence from the Draconis Combine. Following the formation of the Free Rasalhague Republic, members of his family would join its newly raised military. This freedom would be short-lived, as the Republic would soon be invaded and largely crushed by the Clans. Members of the family would flee the conflict, eventually settling among the Rasalhagian enclaves on Arc-Royal, while others would remain within the occupied Republic.
According to official records, Viggo was born on Balsta in 3122. His family apparently left the world in 3126, resurfacing on Arc-Royal later in that year and finding a place with their distant relatives on-world. Within a year of their arrival, his mother found work as a mercenary, demonstrating that she had MechWarrior training, despite having never served in the KungsArme. As they traveled, the family collected a large number of contacts within the mercenary trade, as well as worlds within the Lyran Commonwealth.
Their son would be raised with the family as they moved from unit to unit. As he matured, he would receive MechWarrior training from his mother, as well as members of the units that they were with at the time. Rather than remaining with his parents, Viggo chose to find his own way, traveling to Galatea to join the mercenary trade there. He spent several years with various small units, demonstrating considerable skills on the battlefield behind the controls of his ‘Mech.
Viggo’s big break would come in 3146 when he was hired by Irisz Magyari as a part of the expansion of her unit. His first contract with the unit would almost prove to be disastrous; originally hired to help support the Second Avalon Hussars on Ingress, the unit would instead be caught up in a full-blown invasion by DCMS forces, supported by mercenary allies. Cut off from their transports, the Irregulars went to ground, waging a guerrilla war against the Combine forces.
During this time, Viggo Akerstrom demonstrated a range of skills that went well beyond his BattleMech training. He proved to be a skilled infiltrator and saboteur, and especially proficient with explosives. Through his actions, the Irregulars were able to deny the mercenary forces access to key supplies, as well as liberate a number of valuable prisoners from their control. The Combine forces would eventually be driven off the world through a number of factors, with effective sabotage of their assets being key among them.
These skills would be demonstrated further on Hindmarsh, where he used his skills to infiltrate the enemy encampments. While there he gathered vital intelligence on their numbers and disposition, while also sabotaging their supplies and sewing discord among their ranks. The Irregulars would capitalize on his successes on the battlefield, driving off or destroying the occupying forces.
Viggo has made no illusions about his dislike for the Clans, and seems to carry a particular hatred for the Ghost Bears. This attitude, combined with his range of skills and several irregularities in both his and his parents backgrounds, suggests that he may be connected to Motstånd or one of the other Rasalhaguan independence groups that seek freedom from Clan control. Furthermore, he has apparently been in contact with groups within the Dominion during his time as a mercenary, likely feeding them information.
While Irisz Magyari is clearly aware of this situation, so far she has chosen not to act on it. Whether this is because she respects his skills and contributions to the unit, because she has her own uses for his contacts and resources is unclear.
MGL-T1 Mongrel Kaparen
Mass: 50 tons
Chassis: Beowulf 5C
Powerplant: Manga-C 350
Cruising Speed: 76 kph
Maximum Speed: 119 kph
Jump Jets: None
Jump Capacity: None
Armour: Royal-7R Reactive
Armament:
1 GM Whirlwind Class-5 Autocannon
3 Series 2f Extended Range Medium Lasers
Comm System: OP COM-22/H47
T&T System: Digital Scanlock 347
Despite its ungainly appearance, the Mongrel is a well-regarded design both for its rugged nature and ease of operations. Co-developed by the Rasalhague Dominion and Exiled Wolves, the design has spread considerably and found favour among mercenary forces. Viggo Akerstrom’s Mongrel was purchased new through his family’s contacts, and so far has been the only BattleMech that he has used during his mercenary career.
This familiarity is demonstrated in his employment of its capabilities on the battlefield. Where possible, he will try to deliberately draw the attention of missile-armed opponents, knowing that their weapons are less effective against its armour. However, his preferred weapon seems to be its retractable blade. He has managed to cripple or disable several otherwise lightly-damaged opponents through careful and precise strikes, using the Mongrel’s speed to close in with them before delivering the critical blow.
Despite his anti-Clan biases, Viggo seems to have no issue with using a Clan-built BattleMech. Instead, his attitude is somewhat more pragmatic, feeling that the ‘Mech’s performance and capabilities are all that matter, regardless of its origin. So far, he has shown no interest in replacing his ‘Mech, which he has nicknamed Kaparen.
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Adeola Tshanti
Position/Rank: Captain
Affiliation/Unit: Federated Suns/Dawn Guards
Birth Year: 3116
Adeola Tshanti’s family had a long and decorated history of service, both to the Republic of the Sphere and to the Federated Suns for generations before that. Her grandmother fought for the AFFS during the Jihad, choosing to resettle in the Republic in the years afterwards. Both of her parents served in the RAF; in fact, they met during their service and waited until their terms of service were over before marrying. It was seen as natural that their children would follow in their footsteps.
As their first child, Adeola had no objections to this plan. Not only did she see millitary service as her path to Republic citizenship, but she also felt proud to uphold her family’s traditions. Her timing was against her, however. She enlisted with the RAF days after her sixteenth birthday in July of 3132. Less than a month later, the HPG Blackout would strike, sending the Republic, and the rest of the Inner Sphere, into chaos.
While Adeola and her family were located in Prefecture X at the heart of the Republic, she still felt the effects of the escalating situation. After aptitude tests showed that she would make a capable MechWarrior, her training was accelerated so that the Republic would be able to replenish the losses it was suffering through both combat and defections to the various splinter groups that had sprung up since the Blackout. Despite the intense pressure she was under, or maybe because of it, Adeola excelled during her training, consistently performing well in exercises.
While in theory the raising of the walls of Fortress Republic guaranteed the safety of the worlds within it, the truth would not be so simple. Adeola would first see action in 3136 as a part of the Republic’s ‘housecleaning’ actions against the remaining splinter factions and other groups operating within the Republic. This included being a part of the operation that put down the so-called Outreach Revival, resulting in the RAF absorbing a number of mercenary units.
Midway through the year, her cadet unit was on Caph engaged in low-level cleanup activities when the world was unexpectedly attacked by a detachment from the Band of Five. Driven by no clear motivation beyond inflicting damage for the sake of it, the Raiders made for an industrial town. While outnumbered and with other forces on the way, Adeola chose to delay the Raiders to allow reinforcements to arrive rather than risking the attackers getting to a heavily populated region. Quick thinking and use of the terrain allowed her force to get the drop on the attackers and stall their advance, while preventing the Raiders from taking advantage of their greater numbers. Once further RAF units arrived, the Raiders chose to fight to the death rather than retreat or surrender; Adeola wound up killing their commander herself with a hit to his BattleMech’s cockpit.
She would see action in subsequent operations, including DAMNATIO, before a new opportunity presented itself for her to serve the Republic. Due to her Federated Suns ancestry and past service, she was recommended for the Dawn Guards. Despite the fact that this would mean leaving the Republic, Adeola felt that it was her duty to join the unit; through aiding the Federated Suns, she would also be aiding the Republic.
As one of the first Republic soldiers to see action outside the wall, Adeola would acquit herself well in the Guards’ early battles against the Capellan Confederation. Her combination of skills and battlefield experience saw her promoted, eventually given command of a striker company. This unit would form a key part of several victories, not the least of which was the crushing defeat of Wolf's Dragoons’ Wolfsbane battalion on O’Fallon.
Despite the presently imperiled state of the Republic and the very real risk that she may never see her home or family again, Adeola remains steadfastly loyal to her unit and its mission. She sees herself less as fighting for the Republic, but fighting for a better future for whatever comes next.
CN11-O Centurion (modified) Torchbearer
Mass: 50 tons
Chassis: Corean Model OM77 Endo Steel
Powerplant: Magna 250 XL
Cruising Speed: 54 kph
Maximum Speed: 86 kph
Jump Jets: McCloud Specials
Jump Capacity: 150 meters
Armour: StarGuard III
Armament:
1 ChisComp 12000 Plasma Rifle
2 Exostar Pinnacle Extended-Range Medium Lasers
1 Type XV “Crossbow” LRM-15 launcher
Comm System: Corean Transband J-9 with Guardian ECM
T&T System: Corean FlexTech
Adeola Tshanti was assigned a veteran Centurion OmniMech as a part of her first operational deployment. While inexperienced at the time, she took a liking to the ‘Mech for its rugged design and ease of use. Her faith in its capabilities would be rewarded during her very first field operation, where through use of its mobility and plasma rifle she was able to harry and hinder the Band of Five force, overheating their ‘Mechs and crippling their vehicles.
The Centurion would remain as her BattleMech for the next decade as she fought to protect the Republic from the enemies that remained inside the wall. Following her assignment to the Dawn Guards, she was offered a heavier or more advanced ‘Mech; however, she turned it down, claiming that she preferred the Centurion and that a heavier design would be better used by being assigned to someone else. She took the opportunity to formally name the ‘Mech that she had been using for a decade, christening it Torchbearer in recognition of the Dawn Guards’ mission.
While Adeola has used a variety of different configurations during her career, the C model has remained her favourite due to its capabilities. Despite this familiarity, she has made some compromises regarding her ‘Mech of choice. Following the victory on O’Fallon, she upgraded the Centurion with Clan-tech weapon pods salvaged from the defeated Dragoons, creating a unique hybrid configuration. This in turn makes Torchbearer far more dangerous and less predictable for an opponent.
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Leeandra Connors
Position/Rank: Star Captain
Affiliation/Unit: Clan Wolf/Beta Galaxy
Birth Year: 3116
While a member of Clan Wolf’s most prestigious Galaxy, Leeandra Connors’ origins do not lie with that Clan. Rather, she was born to a Wolf-in-Exile sibko on Arc-Royal. During her training, she became very outspoken among her peers, criticizing the Exiles' seeming dependence on -- and subservience to -- the Lyran nation. While this made her unpopular with her trainers, their resulting pushback only served to drive her to excel and succeed. Despite the obstacles thrown in her way, she succeeded in her Trial of Position as a MechWarrior.
A year later, she took a chance during the meetings between the Wolves and Exiles regarding their alliance with the Lyran Commonwealth. While the Exiles’ leaders refused an offer of reunification, there were individual warriors that took the opportunity for themselves. Leeandra was one such case, leaping at the opportunity to become what she saw as a ‘real’ Clan warrior. She was quickly accepted by her new Clan, and managed to win a place in the Wolves’ prestigious Beta Galaxy; albeit with the assignment being as much about he own skill as the simple fact that she had defected with an OmniMech.
Leeandra proved that she was worthy of the honour bestowed upon her, distinguishing herself in the Wolf incursion into the former Republic. Her performance during the invasion of the Marik-Stewart Commonwealth earned her the favour of Lucius Radick, a ristar in the same Cluster as her. He saw in her both her potential as a warrior as well as an opportunity to lure more Exiles to the Clan, and arranged to have her assigned to his Star. Her performance showed that his faith was not misplaced; when Lucius was promoted to Star Captain, he arranged for her to become a Star Commander in his own Trinary. Her prestige was further bolstered with her winning her Bloodname in 3141.
When the Wolves turned on the Lyran Commonwealth, Leeandra gladly joined the fighting against what she saw as the Exiles’ masters. As much as she relished the chance to strike back at them, she also saw the Wolves’ offensive as a way to lure more of her former Clan to their side. As Lucius’ prestige grew, so did hers as she rode the wake of his success. She became one of his key supporters as he pushed for command of the Cluster, knowing that she would be promoted as a result.
Her rise would be threatened not by any external force, but rather by her own allies. In early 3145, her Star was part of a force attempting to stop a mercenary raid on Keystone. One of her Star was duped into chasing one of the attackers, which created an opening for the raiders to escape with a considerable haul of stolen material. While he took the blame for their failure, the loss still reflected on her.
Even more severe was her participation in Lucius Radick’s retaliatory strike on Ashburton against the same mercenaries. While the Wolf forces would again be defeated in battle, Leeandra managed to come out of the battle better than most. Her ‘Mech would only be lightly damaged, while she managed to inflict substantial damage in return. In the aftermath of the debacle, she began to distance herself from her ally, feeling that he had been tainted by the affair.
In recent years, their relationship has become more mutually antagonistic as her own star has risen. Promoted to Star Captain, Leeandra is now on equal footing with her former commander, and has done her best to earn Star Colonel Don Cooper’s favour. So far, her performance has proven that she was not just rising on the combination of her connections and the novelty of her background.
Leeandra has no connections left to her prior Clan, and rarely makes any mention of it. The fall of Arc-Royal to the Jade Falcons and the severe losses suffered by the Exiles seem to have had little effect on her. If anything, she feels that those events have justified her beliefs.
Arctic Wolf II A Bloodseeker
Mass: 40 tons
Chassis: AR1 Endo Steel
Powerplant: Light Force 280 XL
Cruising Speed: 76 kph
Maximum Speed: 119 kph
Jump Jets: Grandthrust Mk 4
Jump Capacity: 210 meters
Armour: Royal-7a Ferro Fibrous
Armament:
4 Pattern J4 Streak SRM-4
2 Series 4 Small Pulse Lasers
Comm System: HWLR Designation ComSys with ECM Suite
T&T System: Hunter (7) Dedicated TTS with Active Probe
From the outset, Leeandra’s views meant that she was at odds with her superiors within the Exiled Wolves. As a consequence, her first assignment was an ancient, worn Great Wyrm, a choice that she found to be an insult. Rather than accept it, she challenged a fellow for their Arctic Wolf II, and readily defeated them in unarmed combat (and, in doing so, only fueled her beliefs). Naming the ‘Mech Bloodseeker, she would violently defend it through several more challenges.
When she joined the Wolves, Leeandra bought her OmniMech with her. While nearly unique among the Wolf forces, she quickly adapted to their tactics and equipment, integrating well with their existing forces. Leeandra prefers mobility in a battle, and will use her OmniMech’s performance to its fullest. She typically uses the A configuration, as much for its potent short-range punch as its advanced electronics and value as a scout.
She scored multiple kills against AMSC opponents during the invasion, helping to bolster her reputation and standing. Her speed and mobility proved especially useful against Lyran opponents, allowing her to outmaneuver heavier ‘Mechs, or herd them into the guns of Wolf forces. So far, she has shown no interest in a heavier ‘Mech; if anything, she seems to be proud of piloting an Exile ‘Mech into battle against that Clan’s allies.
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Valerio Esquivel
Position/Rank: Chieftain
Affiliation/Unit: Pirate/Vulture’s Feast
Birth Year: 3115
In other circumstances, Valerio Esquivel’s rise would be considered as a heroic triumph. Coming from nothing and rising through adversity, he has become a feared pirate leader, responsible for countless crimes.
Valerio was born to a poor farming community on Argos, one of the worlds abandoned in the effective collapse of the Taurian Concordat. When he was fourteen, he was a part of a group of captives taken by the Vulture’s Feast, a pirate band that preyed on the worlds in the region. While the pirates usually pressed their captives into service, either as workers to support their forces or expendable cannon-fodder infantry, he instead took the initiative and stepped forward to offer his services to the pirates.
Equal parts impressed by his boldness and amused by his youth, one of them took him up on his offer. Darla Hethir was an ambitious, up-and-coming member of the gang who was looking for ways to advance her own position. She saw in him a potential opportunity, figuring that if he worked out it could be useful to her; and if not, he was ultimately expendable. She put him to work as a scout, figuring that the combination of his small size and seemingly innocuous nature would be useful as a way to infiltrate enemy territory and gather information on their targets. As an incentive, she promised him wealth and power for his success.
Her gamble paid off spectacularly. Esquivel proved to be an adept scout and infiltrator, showing considerable talent in the role. His efforts netted her a number of victories, with her force coming away with considerable loot and salvage. Her success was in turn noted, and she was promoted to replace a less successful senior member of the band. She did not forget her promises, however, and was sure to keep Valerio rewarded and well looked after for his efforts.
As he grew, it became clear to both Valerio and Darla that his innocuous nature would not last forever. Seeing him as still being a useful asset, she arranged for him to train as a MechWarrior so that he could serve the band on the battlefield. He proved to be just as adept behind the controls of a BattleMech as he was as a scout, scoring his first kill during his first-ever live engagement. Confident that her investment had paid off, Darla would continue to reward him as she rose to power.
In 3139, Darla engineered a coup that saw her take control of the Vulture’s Feast, with Valerio being a vital supporter. She rewarded him by making him her second, and assigning him to a heavy BattleMech, despite his relative youth. The few critics of this move quickly found themselves silenced, either intimidated into towing the line or quietly eliminated by the pair to shore up their position. Valerio would remain her loyal right hand for the next five years, continuing to aid her in the band’s attacks.
His next big break would not be planned, however. During a raid on Portland in 3143, Darla was killed by a fluke shot to her BattleMech’s cockpit. As the Vultures collapsed into disarray, Valerio was able to rally their forces and turn what had been a chaotic rout into an orderly retreat. While the pirate band had been forced to abandon their prizes, they had still managed to escape with comparatively light losses. In the aftermath of the operation, Valerio claimed the vacant leadership; nobody chose to challenge him for it.
For the last six years he has remained secure in his control of the Vulture’s Feast. Knowing how he came to the position, Valerio has chosen not to rest on his laurels and has instead continued to lead the organization from the front, demonstrating his capabilities. Furthermore, he has built a network of scouts and informants who help to keep him as informed as possible on future targets or anyone moving against him.
RGH-RV Roughneck Ripsaw
Mass: 65 tons
Chassis: Achernar LK III Endo Steel
Powerplant: Magna 260 XL
Cruising Speed: 43 kph
Maximum Speed: 64 kph
Jump Jets: None
Jump Capacity: None
Armour: StarGuard III
Armament:
2 General Motors Nova-5 Ultra AC/5
2 ChisComp 43 Special Large Lasers
2 ChisComp 39 Medium Lasers
1 Death Blossom Rocket Launcher-15
Comm System: Achernar Electronics HICS-11
T&T System: Federated Hunter
The Roughneck was developed by Achernar BattleMechs prior to the Clan Invasion as a low-cost design marketed to mercenary, militia and Periphery customers. Despite initial misgivings, the design was a success due to its rugged design and low cost. In the wake of the invasion and subsequent arms race, Archernar developed more advanced models containing more recovered technology.
The example piloted by Valerio Esquivel has been with the Vulture’s Feast for nearly twenty years now, captured from a destitute mercenary unit. Before that, it had a long career, passing between various owners across the Inner Sphere and near Periphery. At some point in its past, the ‘Mech was modified, with a rocket launcher and additional armour replacing the centerline Streak SRM. Likewise, one of its prior owners christened the ‘Mech Ripsaw, a name that has stuck.
When Darla Hethir took command of the Vulture’s Feast, she rewarded him with the ‘Mech for supporting her. After her death, he has continued to operate it, not least because it is the heaviest ‘Mech remaining in their arsenal. Due to its size and abilities, Ripsaw is at the front and center of the pirates’ attacks. So far, its combination of firepower and resilience, not to mention the skill of its pilot, has proven to be more than a match for any who have tried to stand in their way.
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Jessie Packard
Position/Rank: Mercenary
Affiliation/Unit: Mercenary/Magyari’s Irregulars
Birth Year: 3120
Much of Jessie Packard’s life was dominated by a long-standing family feud that started a century before she was born and that she had no choice over her being drawn into.
Supposedly the only child of Connie Raymond and her first husband, Shane Packard, Jessie Raymond (as she was christened) lost her father before she was even a year old. This loss kept her close to her mother as she grew, even after Connie Raymond remarried and had a second child. As she grew, a rivalry developed between her and her half-brother, Ronnie, one that was fueled by each parent clearly favouring one of them.
Connie would half-encourage and half-push her into becoming a MechWarrior, a move that was as much about ensuring that her family unit would continue as it was about her personal plans. Jessie proved to be a capable MechWarrior, a skill that was aided by her sibling rivalry with each seeking to out-perform the other. Connie also rewarded her with command of a BattleMech lance, a position that was supposedly about preparing her for the future. In this capacity she proved to be somewhat less capable, due to her lack of social skills and somewhat introverted nature.
Her life would be changed forever during the Ashburton debacle. During an engagement with a lance from Magyari’s Irregulars, Jessie’s force was surprised by a Wolf Empire assault. Thinking quickly, she was able to withdraw, providing the Irregulars with an avenue to escape. However, Ronnie’s ‘Mech would be disabled during the battle, and he was captured. Connie Raymond had intended to trade the Irregulars to the Wolves in exchange for their prisoners. Jessie, feeling that such was unfair, instead opted to release them and helped them to get Ronnie back.
In the aftermath of the affair, Connie berated Jessie for her actions. Conversely, the Irregulars extended her an olive branch as a way of thanking her for her aid. Jessie took the opportunity to leave Raymond’s Roughnecks for the Irregulars, joining the unit as Irisz Magyari was actively engaged in expanding its ranks. In doing such she effectively accepted a demotion back to MechWarrior, a move she had little to no issue with. Unfortunately, this would only serve to fuel Connie Raymond’s anger and stoke the ongoing feud.
For the next three years, Jessie Packard (having taken her father’s name) would serve as a member of the Irregulars, while deliberately avoiding any contact with her former unit and the rest of her family. That gap was bought to a close with the battle of Hindmarsh in 3148, where the Irregulars would clash with Raymond’s Roughnecks. During the battle, Jessie was willing to engage her former unit, but deliberately avoided firing on her mother, stepfather or half-brother. Despite this, she would aid the Irregulars’ cause and contribute to their eventual victory.
The battle was still difficult for her beyond the normal stresses of the battlefield coupled with firing on people that she used to know. It was further accentuated when she realized the true depths of her mother’s insanity after the revelation of her actual parentage. Despite that, she chose to keep the Packard name out of respect for the man that she would have called her father.
In the aftermath of the battle, Jessie chose to remain with the Irregulars. If anything, she has taken to seeing the unit and its members as her real family now. Recently she has managed a degree of rapprochement with her half-brother Ronnie and stepfather, Ron McDougal, both of which were unaware of exactly what was going on and how they were both being used. Conversely, she has shown a strong degree of loyalty towards Irisz Magyari, enough so that her commander has chosen to bring her into her circle of allies.
Warhammer IIC
Mass: 80 tons
Chassis: SJR-80 Endo
Powerplant: Type 10 320 Fusion
Cruising Speed: 43 kph
Maximum Speed: 64 kph
Jump Jets: None
Jump Capacity: None
Armour: Forging ZM15 Ferro-Fibrous
Armament:
2 Type DDS Kingston Extended-Range PPCs
5 14a Medium Pulse Lasers
2 Pattern J7 Streak SRM-6
Comm System: TDWS-37 Mk 2.2
T&T System: “Hades” CT-44
While the Sea Foxes have allowed the Warhammer IIC to proliferate far and wide in search of profits, the ‘Mech still remains a capable and sought after design. Examples can be found across the Inner Sphere in the hands of the Clans, House militaries and even mercenary forces.
Despite being neither a wealthy nor well-equipped unit, Connie Raymond chose to reward her daughter with a used Warhammer IIC that she had bought on the mercenary market. Outwardly, this move was about giving Jessie Packard a ‘Mech that would allow her to develop the skills and experiences that she would eventually need when she inevitably inherited control of the unit. However, it was also about Connie protecting her investment, so that Jessie would be able to prove herself as a MechWarrior while also living long enough to fulfill her plans.
Following her defection, Jessie continued to use the BattleMech, having taken it with her. As her skills have matured through considerable battlefield experience, she has proven to be a capable MechWarrior in her own right without having somebody pushing her into the role. She tends to push her ‘Mech hard, riding its heat curve to an almost dangerous degree while relying on its rugged design and thick armour to keep her alive; a plan that has thus far worked. Despite having piloted the ‘Mech for nearly her entire career, Jessie has not chosen to name it.
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Guest character by KayEmm
Alain Rowe
Position/Rank: Hauptmann
Affiliation/Unit: Lyran Commonwealth/Second Bolan Guards
Birth Year: 3120
Born in the Lyran Commonwealth during the last days of the Republic era, Alain Rowe joined the LCAF during the age of uncertainty and growing chaos that enveloped the entire Inner Sphere. Managing to win a place at the Melissa Steiner Martial Academy on Bolan despite his commoner status, Alain’s training was marked by two major elements.
The first would be his quick reflexes and thinking, traits that saw him excel at both theoretical exercises and wargames. While showing a preference for medium BattleMechs, Alain’s skill as a MechWarrior and field commander delivered him a number of victories against his fellow students. That many of them not only preferred heavier ‘Mechs but also came from wealthier backgrounds did not go unnoticed, which in turn created tension with those students.
However, any problems that might have been caused by that success was drowned out by a growing sense of triumph within the Lyran forces. As reports came in of their continued successes against the Marik-Stewart Commonwealth and Duchy of Tamarind-Abbey, many, Alain included, became caught up in the moment. There was a growing feeling that the Commonwealth’s victory over its ancient enemies was inevitable, with many, Alain included, eager to take up arms and help bring about their nation’s destiny.
On graduation, Alain was assigned to the Second Bolan Guards who were on the frontlines of the advance into the Duchy. However, instead of the victories that he was expecting, Alain’s first campaign would be derailed as the Wolf Clan turned on their supposed allies and invaded the Commonwealth. Instead the regiment became part of a rearguard action, trying to hold off resurgent Free Worlds forces and to cling on to their conquests as the rest of the LCAF pulled back to deal with the new threat.
Ironically his first offensive action would be in 3142 as the unit was assigned to liberate Bolan from the Wolf Empire. During the invasion, Alain put his skills to work in conducting hit and fade attacks against the invaders at the head of a highly-mobile strike lance. Following the liberation and Colonel Colt’s purging of disloyal elements from the unit, Rowe was assigned to a newly formed fast strike company under the command of Hauptmann Erik Elroy. A fervent Lyran nationalist, Bolan native and the son of a wealthy family, Elroy had become incensed in the wake of the Wolves’ betrayal of the nation. His command style reflected this situation, as he became very demanding of his men. Rowe quickly proved himself to be up to his demanding situation, becoming the second in command of his company.
The biggest test of both his loyalty and his skills would come in April of 3146 when Bolan was again invaded, this time by the First Tamarind Regulars. Elroy was enraged at the attack, and drove his men hard to push back the invaders. Rowe’s skills and knowledge became essential to their counterattack, with him leading a number of successful attacks that pushed back the League invaders. The arrival of elements of the Eighth Free Worlds Guards, supported by mercenaries (including the Dark Suns), again reversed the situation in favour of the invaders.
As the situation deteriorated, Elroy became even more enraged. He felt deeply insulted that the League used a mercenary unit, and one lead by a common-born woman at that, to try to take his homeworld. Even as the Guards were ordered into a retreat, he launched an attack against the Dark Suns, aimed at crippling them and eliminating their leader. Seeing that this was a futile action, Rowe sidestepped his authority and pulled back his forces in order to preserve them. While Elroy would be captured by the mercenaries, the rest of his company would pull back and survive to retreat off-world.
As the regiment again reorganised, Rowe was promoted to take Elroy’s place. While he has remained loyal to the LCAF, the combination of the Commonwealth’s deteriorating situation and the knowledge that his lack of social standing will likely hamper his future career has seen him begin to consider his options.
GST-10 Ghost Ivey
Mass: 50 tons
Chassis: Enran TSX2A Standard
Powerplant: GM 300 XL
Cruising Speed: 64 kph
Maximum Speed: 96 kph
Jump Jets: None
Jump Capacity: None
Armour: Starshield Ultra-tech Stealth
Armament:
2 Defiance 1002 Light PPCs
1 Defiance Model XII Extended-Range Medium Laser
2 Helga Series Multiple Missile Launcher 3-Packs
Comm System: Nashan Comm-I U-284 with Guardian ECM
T&T System: Nashan Trac v-102 with Beagle Active Probe
On his assignment to the Second Bolan Guars, Alain Rowe was assigned to a factory-fresh Ghost that had been supplied to the unit to make up losses. While having never used the BattleMech before, Rowe took an immediate liking to the machine due to its combination of mobility, advanced electronics and stealth armour, all of which suited his skills and preferred tactics.
This familiarity would serve him well during his career. In the rearguard action that the Bolan Guards fought against the Tamarind forces, Rowe would use careful long-range fire to harry and delay enemies while avoiding their retaliation. During the liberation of Bolan, his stealth armour helped him to offset their range advantage, while its advanced electronics make him adept at flushing out hidden forces. During the liberation of MSMA, he used his familiarity with the terrain to approach unseen before conducting a surprise flanking attack.
While he was less successful during the League’s invasion of Bolan, that failure was less due to any deficit in his own skills and more about circumstances. The combination of the FWLM forces having superior numbers, the arrival of reinforcements and his own commander’s increasingly unhinged behavior proved to be considerable obstacles. None the less, the fact that Rowe was able to pull out the bulk of his company from the disaster that their commander unleashed demonstrated his abilities in full.
Despite being promoted, Rowe has continued to use the Ghost. He has dubbed the ‘Mech Ivey, but is quiet on the origins and reasoning behind the name.
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Back to it, now with some supporting characters
Isaak Wolf
Position/Rank: None
Affiliation/Unit: None
Birth Year: 3122
Isaak Wolf was a trueborn Wolf Clan warrior. While still in training during the invasion of the Marik-Stewart Commonwealth, he showed considerable skill; enough to win a place in the prestigious Beta Galaxy. Isaak bloodied himself during the invasion of the Lyran Commonwealth, scoring multiple kills against LCAF units and their allies. By 3145, he was a part of Lucius Radick’s trinary, positioned at the bleeding edge of the Wolf forces lurking outside Fortress Republic.
His career would be sidetracked during a mercenary raid on Keystone later in that year. The raiders had hit the Earthworks-FWL facility and had made off with a considerable haul of supplies while disrupting production. Isaak was positioned to cut off their escape, but instead was duped into a duel with one of the mercenaries. As a result, while he ineffectually chased his opponent, the mercenaries were able to escape.
Isaak would get his chance for revenge later in that year, taking part in Lucius Radick’s retaliatory raid on Ashburton. During the battle, Isaak again focused on the one opponent to the detriment of the rest of his Star. This miscalculation would instead cost the Wolf forces their victory after Isaak was easily disabled by his opponent.
In an effort to preserve himself, Lucius Radick shifted blame to Isaak, a move supported by Star Commander Leeandra Connors. As a result, Isaak was transferred to Mu Galaxy and ‘promoted’ to Star Commander in the process, given command of a Star of adoptees. After two years in his new role dealing with inept warriors, thefts and infighting, he deserted from his post.
While his present whereabouts are unknown, in the last year there have been reports of a pirate operating in Free Worlds space that reasonably matches Isaak’s description.
Guest character by KayEmm
Stephan Kurtz
Position/Rank: None
Affiliation/Unit: Lyran Commonwealth/None
Birth Year: 3110
Born to a wealthy noble family on Donegal, Stephan Kurtz was raised in a life of privilege that wanted for nothing. His enrolment in the LCAF was seen as an opportunity to further his social standing and position while building contacts and alliances. His standing saw him graduate from officer school as a hauptmann, and win a place in the prestigious Second Donegal Guards. Given the relatively peaceful situation that existed at the time, Kurtz assumed that he would see out his tour of duty with little to no action and instead spend his time at officer’s balls and the like.
Instead, the HPG Blackout and subsequent spread of open warfare across the Inner Sphere derailed his plan. Kurtz was forced into combat, a situation that was equal parts threat and opportunity for him. While only a mediocre MechWarrior and commander, he saw an opportunity to further his position. By 3145 he had reached the rank of kommandant, an advancement that was as much about his social skills as it was replacing losses due to attrition.
However, that was not enough for him. Kurtz sought to further his career and position, and concocted a plan to position himself as a hero of the Commonwealth. He hired the Dark Suns, a mercenary unit, ostensibly for a raid on the Falcon-held world of Arcturus, once the capitol of the Commonwealth. To further his case, he manufactured evidence to suggest that the Falcon force on-world were the same as those that had killed the father of the Dark Suns’ leader, Kari Moreno.
His actual plan was to retake the world by essentially sacrificing the Dark Suns as bait. Rather than being destroyed as expected while pinning the Falcons in place, Moreno quickly realized what was going on and extracted her forces. Kurtz was forced to retreat after his battalion suffered considerable casualties. In the aftermath of the debacle, Moreno presented the LCAF with evidence of Kurtz’s plan, revealing that the whole operation was unauthorized, essentially throwing away Lyran lives for one officer’s glory.
Stephan Kurtz was stripped of his rank and dishonorably discharged from the LCAF as a result of his actions. However, due to his family’s position, he still retains a degree of influence.
Ash Wednesday
Position/Rank: None
Affiliation/Unit: Unknown
Birth Year: Unknown
Unfortunately, very little can be said about the man known as Ash Wednesday; it is not even clear if that is his real name. As near as can be told, he was hired by Connie Raymond as a scout during her restructuring of Raymond’s Roughnecks in 3133 as a part of her aggressive expansion of the unit. Outwardly, Wednesday would operate as a loyal agent, gathering intelligence and supporting the Roughnecks’ operations. He also helped to train Jessie Raymond with the skills she would need as the eventual commander of the unit.
Despite his position, Wednesday was apparently not aware of the depths of Connie Raymond’s obsession and plans. Even as his misgivings about her grew, he remained loyal to the unit and its commander for his own personal reasons. Information recovered from Hindmarsh, as well as interviews with members of the Roughnecks, make it clear that he was reporting on the Roughnecks, including their activities and personnel. However, there is no evidence towards who he was reporting to, nor why he was doing such.
While it is not clear who trained him, it can be said that Ash Wednesday was a capable scout and operative. During his time with the Roughnecks, he gathered key intelligence that supported their operations, all without ever compromising himself or his point of origins. It also needs to be said that he had built his own internal dossier on the Roughnecks and its members (Including deducing Jessie Packard’s parentage) behind their backs.
Ash Wednesday disappeared during the battle of Hindmarsh when it became clear that the Roughnecks were about to be defeated. His present whereabouts are unknown.
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Bors Magyari
Position/Rank: Unknown
Affiliation/Unit: Unknown
Birth Year: 3085
The youngest child of Annika Magyari, Bors was the only one of her children who showed any interest in continuing the family tradition and inheriting command of their mercenary command. He took control of the unit following his mother’s retirement in 3115, proving to be an entirely adequate commander during the slow years of the mercenary trade at the height of the Republic. While clearly devoted to the unit, he also managed to find the time to have a series of affairs.
Following the HPG Blackout and the subsequent rise in tensions across the Inner Sphere, Bors actively pushed the unit forward in taking contracts from the emergent factions within the crumbling Republic. He also sought to expand the Irregulars’ capabilities, but often ended up recruiting dubious assets that were there more to bloat out numbers rather than for their actual effectiveness. He also proved to be only an adequate battlefield commander, being outperformed by his daughter and heir, Irisz Magyari.
In mid-3135, Bors took a temporary leave of absence from the unit to deal with personal matters. When last seen, he was in Prefecture X when the walls of Fortress Republic went up, remaining trapped behind them. He has had no contact with the outside world since.
Given the fate of other mercenaries who were caught inside the Fortress, it is likely that Bors was pressed into RAF service. However, given his age, it is also possible that he was placed into a training or reserve role.
Nate Walker
Position/Rank: Scout
Affiliation/Unit: Mercenary/Fairchild’s Ravagers
Birth Year: 3112
Allegedly, Nate Walker (the name is possibly an alias) serves as a scout and agent for Alexis Fairchild and her unit. Like the rest of her group, he was effectively born and raised under the control of a Word of Blake remnant group, who trained him to serve their needs. Like the rest of the unit, he spent years on various operations aimed at fulfilling their agenda, including assassinations, sabotage and the targeted elimination of certain groups.
All the while, just like Fairchild, Nate was quietly building up the unit’s independence while using their operations to gather information on their would-be masters. When Fairchild turned on them, Nate would be a vital part of her forcible separation from the Blakist group. Nate would put his skills to work, infiltrating and killing several members of the group while also recovering information from them and covering the Ravagers’ tracks.
Nate has displayed a wide range of skills as a scout, agent, infiltrator and saboteur. While he does conceal them and never discusses them, both of Nate’s arms are bionic replacements. Given who he worked for in past, it is entirely possible that they have capabilities that go beyond functional replacements.
He is clearly dedicated to Fairchild beyond his loyalty as a member of the unit and their shared past. While they are not open or public about it, there are indications that the two are romantically involved.
Joseph Pietre
Position/Rank: Major
Affiliation/Unit: Federated Suns
Birth Year: 3109
Joseph Pietre was born into a middle-class Crucis Mach family that had a history of service with the AFFS. While he enlisted into the service as expected of him, his poor eyesight disqualified him from a combat position. However, his career was saved by his keen head for numbers and ability to think fast, which saw him win a position within the AFFS’ Quartermaster Command.
As the military ramped up towards what was seen as an inevitable conflict in the aftermath of the Blackout, Pietre was a part of trying to help energize its somewhat moribund supply system. He became concerned about the military’s supply situation, especially after Caleb Davion took the throne. In his eyes, there were severe issues within the supply chain that were being exacerbated by the new First Prince’s desire for centralised command and clear playing of favourites. While he spoke out against these issues, he was ultimately censured by Caleb’s loyalists.
In many ways, the Palmyra disaster was inevitable to his eyes; he felt that the concentration of so much strength and considerable resources into one place was inviting disaster. In the aftermath of the massacre, he became a key part of trying to salvage the AFFS’ situation, including redirecting supplies that were now going towards destroyed regiments.
In order to better effect a recovery, Pietre was moved closer to the frontlines to reduce communications delay. He took advantage of the situation by identifying key CCAF and DCMS supply depots near the front lines, especially in the Terran corridor. Working with mercenary units, he coordinated a number of raids that were aimed as much at acquiring supplies for the desperately overstretched AFFS as they were denying them to their enemies.
While not a combatant, Pietre has become no stranger to the battlefield. He has taken to working with combat engineering and salvage crews in order to quickly identify and recover useful supplies, both from enemy stockpiles and battlefield recovery. Along the way he has developed contacts with a number of mercenary units, arranging contracts with them that have built long-term loyalty to the Federated Suns.
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Isiah al-Prassad
Position/Rank: Captain
Affiliation/Unit: Republic of the Sphere
Birth Year: 3113
Descended from an Azami family that was incorporated into the Republic of the Sphere, Isiah al-Prassad was a strong believer in the Republic and its promise of peace. He was raised on Addicks, a historically Federated Suns world, but saw his loyalty as being first and foremost to Devlin Stone’s dream. In order to earn his citizenship, he enlisted in the RAF, earning a spot in the planetary guard as a battle armour trooper.
While Isiah had expected his tour of duty to be peaceful, reality proved otherwise. The collapse of the HPG network saw him thrown into combat, not against foreign invaders as expected, but instead facing other Republic citizens. Facing both the Dragons’ Fury and the Spirit Cats was disheartening, seeing the way that both groups had turned on the Republic. Nonetheless he remained resolute in his loyalty, even going so far as to turn down the offer of a spot in the Highlanders to remain with his unit.
Rapidly promoted to make up for losses and defections, Isiah chose to remain on-station after the formation of Fortress Republic and effective abandonment of Addicks. After the Federated Suns effectively annexed the world, he threw his support behind their leadership, citing the historical ties between the two states. None the less, Isiah made it clear that this was only a temporary situation, and that he still saw himself as a member of the RAF.
Isiah and members of his unit fought against the DCMS when they invaded the world; despite their determination, they were not able to hold back the invading force. Following the conquest of the world, he and his surviving men went to ground, forming a resistance movement aimed at weakening the Combine’s hold. While his ancestors may have been Combine citizens, if anything, that knowledge seems to have only driven him further to oppose them.
Guest character by KayEmm
Kat Stavia
Position/Rank: Captain
Affiliation/Unit: Mercenary/Dark Suns
Birth Year: 3114
Kat Stavia was born and raised in the Republic of the Sphere. At the time off the Blackout, she was a cadet in the Algorab Planetary Guard, training in the use of hover vehicles. The early years of her service would be filled with uncertainty, as the Republic fractured under the weight of both internal disruptions and invasions from external powers. While Algorab was not in the path of the Jade Falcon desant onto Skye, Kat saw it as a sign that the Republic might not survive.
It was the formation of Fortress Republic that finally shattered her loyalty to her home. Stavia felt that she had been abandoned, and realized that the nation that she had dedicated herself to was not going to return. She chose to abandon her post, choosing instead to travel to Galatea and become a mercenary. That way, she figured, she would never owe her loyalty to a nation that would abandon her again.
After several years of floating between commands, Kat was hired by the Dark Suns in 3140. Her skill, determination and experience saw her rise quickly, taking command of a hovertank recon lance. Her unit was instrumental to the Dark Suns’ escape from their near-destruction on Wrocaiw, helping to map out escape routes and bypass the Falcon forces. Despite the losses that the Suns had suffered, she chose to remain with the unit and help it rebuild.
Stavia proved to be indispensable to Kari Moreno in her efforts to get her unit back on its feet, and contributed greatly towards the reborn unit’s early successes. As the Dark Suns grew again, she was promoted to captain, becoming the effective third-in-command of the unit. Despite this, she still prefers fast hovertanks, building on her personal experiences.
Despite the cynicism that initially drove her, Kat has become a loyal member of the Dark Suns; she is a personal friend of Kari Moreno’s, and is involved with Jack Hennessey, one of her fellow mercs. While Stavia has no love for the Republic (or the Lyran Commonwealth, whom she sees as being little more than opportunists), she has a strong hatred for all things Clan.
Lucinda Estevez
Position/Rank: Captain
Affiliation/Unit: Independent
Birth Year: 3084
The Estevez family have been spacers for generations, running a small fleet of independent merchant vessels since the early Succession Wars. Despite the losses the family suffered during the Jihad, they were determined to continue that tradition in its aftermath. Lucinda Estevez was raised with the idea that she would one day control their enterprise, an ideal she wholeheartedly embraced. Growing up, she learned everything there was to know about JumpShips, inside and out.
In 3108 she met Bors Magyari, a young mercenary officer while providing transport for his unit. The two quickly struck up a relationship that well beyond a professional partnership, and married the next year. In 3110, their first and only child, Irisz Magyari was born. Despite this, their marriage would not last. Not only did Lucinda feel the pull of her own family to maintain their independence, but she also discovered that her husband had had a string of affairs while they were together. Despite the separation, Lucinda would retain a strong relationship with her daughter, with the two communicating as best they could given the circumstances.
Taking advantage of her role as an independent merchant captain, Lucinda would build relationships and networks of contacts across the Inner Sphere and beyond in her travels. These would become vital after the HPG blackout as JumpShips suddenly became the only way to spread news and information. Through her informal network, Lucinda would act as an information broker, gathering and reselling intelligence as she traveled.
While the situation in the Inner Sphere has continued to spiral out of control, Lucinda has remained determined to maintain her independence and avoid getting caught up in other people’s conflicts. This has not prevented her from taking mercenary contracts by any means; if anything, the explosive growth of the mercenary trade has been immensely profitable for her. At this point, the biggest threat that she faces is ensuring that her ancient vessel remains functional, while avoiding those groups who are unlikely to respect the neutrality of her profession.
Ironically, in this capacity, she has provided transport for her daughter’s unit on several occasions.
-
And after much preamble, we actually begin
Renegades Prelude: Fragments
Audio Log 010650-A
Antonin Rybak: Thank you for meeting me.
Irisz Magyari: I have to admit that your invitation was fascinating in and of itself. After that, I had to come.
Rybak: Can I ask what it was that fascinated you so much about it?
Magyari: You’ve got something of a reputation going. Not a public one, mind you. More low-key, halfway between rumour and urban legend. And that was enough to get my attention.
Rybak: So then what have you heard?
Magyari: You’re some sort of spook, possibly a Republic agent or Ghost Knight or whatever else. You’ve been running your own operations across Republic space since the Blackout; building networks of agents out of normal people. And all of this in the name of some agenda that I can only guess at.
Rybak: And if that was true?
Magyari: It tells me that you’ve got some sort of agenda that you’ve been running for ages. One that you’re determined to stick to despite the fact that the universe has gone entirely insane since you started.
Rybak: And that’s why you’re here.
Magyari: Call it fascination. I want to know what you’re planning; what you’re up to and most importantly, what it has to do with me.
Rybak: Interesting. Before I go further, what do think it is I am doing?
Magyari: A good question. And I admit that I’ve been thinking about it myself and came up with something.
Rybak: Do tell.
Magyari: So assuming you’re a Republic agent as the theory suggests. You were putting things in motion even before the walls went up. Based on the timeline I’ve been able to put together, you had to have been working on this since not too long after the Blackout. Maybe even before it, really. You had some op going and then you repurposed it when everything went down. And now that we’re reaching a tipping point, a key moment where everything could change, you’re making your play.
Rybak: You’re remarkably well-informed.
Magyari: I keep me eye open and my ears to the ground. Of course, it doesn’t hurt that I have good people working for me. And I am guessing that’s a part of why you approached me.
Rybak: It is, yes. Not to sound like I’m trying to flatter you, but you and your family have a good reputation. Five generations as mercenaries and yet you’ve got a history of honest dealings and keeping things clean, which is rare in and of itself. And I know that you’ve got your own network of contacts and alliances that you’ve quietly built up over the years, some of them building on that past.
Magyari: I see that I’m not the only one who has done their homework. So then what do you want from me?
Rybak: I would like to utilise what you have to build up an alliance of sorts. A collection of reliable mercenary units that can depend on each other and whose loyalty goes beyond simply a paycheck. They gather and share information, aid and support each other, share resources, cross-train and build up their strength. And, when needed, will directly work together.
Magyari: Your own little AMC, huh? And why would I support that?
Rybak: You can see where things are going well enough to know how things look at the moment. The Falcons and Wolves are on the verge of Terra. The Capellans and Combine are not too far behind. Do you really want a future controlled by any of them?
Magyari: So you’re preparing for what happens when the last walls come down.
Rybak: No. I’m preparing for what comes next.
Magyari: I see. (pause) You are right about one thing, ponytail. At the end of the day, I am a mercenary, and you are going to have to offer me more than just a promise to get me onboard.
Rybak: Of course, and I wouldn’t expect otherwise.
Magyari: So what’s your offer? What convinces me to sign on the dotted line?
Rybak: Your grandmother’s journals, specifically those she wrote during the Jihad, were censored and redacted, and with good reason.
Magyari: I know this. And?
Rybak: I can give you the full versions.
Magyari: I… I need to think about this. Thank you.
-
Krymzon Dawn
De Luca Estate
Outside Cordia City
Comorodir VI, Aurigan Coalition
7 July 3020
Scarlett de Luca paused a moment outside the study door, taking a deep breath. Then, with the slightest of hesitation, she knocked, while wincing as if expecting the door to explode at the touch.
“Enter,” came the woman’s voice from inside.
She stepped into the room, giving the slightest nod towards the room’s single occupant. A middle-aged woman, she carried herself with an air of strength that showed through even when sitting at her desk. The presence of several small scars on her face and forehead, as well as her shaved temples, made her warrior past clear even in this setting. “You wanted to see me, mother?” Scarlett asked.
“Please, sit,” she replied, her tone clear. As soon as her daughter was seated, she continued. “Scarlett, you are our first child. And, as of a few days ago, you are a grown woman.”
Scarlett nodded warily. Her twenty-first birthday celebration had been a carefully managed affair, one which had been as much about her parents rubbing shoulders with other figures in the nobility and military as it was about her. “Yes, mother.”
“It is time for you to consider fulfilling your duties, both to your family and to your nation,” she continued. “To that effect, it is time for us to find you a husband. I have already found several promising candidates for you.”
“That’s… that’s very thoughtful of you, mother.” Scarlett managed as her eyes darted around the room, desperate to look at anything but its only other occupant. “I… could not agree more.”
“Of course.”
“I, uh….” She paused as she quickly considered matters. “I was thinking that in order to impress my would-be suitor, I should, ah, work on my MechWarrior skills some. You know, warrior-nobility and all that.” Her family had risen to power through their battlefield performance in the service of the Coalition. Scarlett’s own education had included training in the operation of the family’s Blackjack.
“That would be a suitable idea,” her mother agreed.
“Great, so…” Scarlett fidgeted with her hands. “I was thinking that I should take the family ‘Mech out for a run right now so that I can get started. No time like the present and all.” She managed a weak smile. “Um, just out of curiosity, how high would you say the wall is at the back of the estate? Less than twenty-five meters, maybe?”
-
Ok! This jumped in an interesting direction
-
Guest chapter by KayEmm
Book of the New Sun
Galatea City
Galatea, Prefecture VII
Republic of the Sphere
20 February 3082
Elisa Moreno sat alone at her table at the bar, half looking around as she did. There were familiar faces here and there, people who she didn’t know by name but still recognised immediately. Once again, as had been the pattern for the last couple of months, there were fewer and fewer of them. She knew why.
She took another swig of her drink. Ginger ale, same as it had been for years now. Something that gave her the impression of drinking without actually doing such. She knew why the crowd was thinning and would continue to do such.
The Jihad was over, ending in a final act of nuclear fury unleashed on the Word of Blake’s so-called Master. And while there were still small conflicts burning across the Inner Sphere, there was a growing acceptance that the war was over, and that things were going to change.
A new future was dawning for everyone. They could either embrace it, or try to hold back the tide.
With a small sigh, Elisa picked up her glass again, catching a sight of her reflection for a moment. At first glance she seemed younger than she was, still very much fit and active-looking. Only the lines around her eyes and the streaks of grey in her auburn hair betrayed her near six decades of life. Certainly, however, she could feel that age bearing down on her.
Another figure caught her eye as they approached her table. Elisa took a sip from her glass, then nodded to the newcomer as they sat. In her mid-thirties, the woman was slim and athletic, with an attractive face framed by long red hair. For all that, her attire and the way she carried herself made it clear that she belonged here; another professional mercenary.
“Sorry to keep you,” she began.
“I wasn’t waiting long, Annika,” Elisa replied. Which was a lie; she’d been here a while even before she’d been expecting Magyari to arrive. Much of it had been spent collecting her thoughts about this very meeting and how it was going to go down. “How are you doing?”
“Pretty good, all things being equal,” Annika nodded. “At this point I don’t think we’re going to have any more retirements and that numbers have stabilised.”
“Peace, huh?” Elisa snorted. “Who’d have thought that people would want to stop fighting after such a bloody war?”
That bought a wry chuckle from Annika. “And yourself?”
“Better than I have any right to be,” she offered. “Like yourself, I think we’re getting to something approaching stable.”
“Good,” Anika nodded. “I mean, you know, that’s why we’re here.”
“I know,” Elisa noted. “Might as well get on with it, I suppose.”
“So have you thought about my offer?”
“I have,” Elisa replied. “I mean, it’s tempting. It’s so very tempting.” She sighed, and then picked up her glass again, gently swishing it. “I mean, I never wanted to actually lead this bunch. But circumstances said otherwise, and somebody had to step up and take command after their last leader got himself killed.” She finished off her glass. “I’d like to think I was a good leader, Annika. But maybe I was just the best they had at the time.”
“I understand how you feel,” she nodded. Elisa knew what Annika was talking about; Magyari had inherited control of her family’s unit far earlier than expected after her father’s sudden death. Despite her age, she’d managed to keep them alive during the Jihad when so many others had fallen. “And I think you’ve done an amazing job.”
“Eh,” Elisa shrugged.
“So what are your thoughts?”
“I have good reasons to go along with it,” she admitted. “But at the end of the day, I’m going to say no.” There was a wry smile. “I’m sure that right now, folding what I have into your unit would be the sensible thing to do, and there’s a big part of me that would be all for that.”
“But you’re not.”
“No,” she nodded. “What I have now is basically the sum total legacy of a half-dozen shattered commands, maybe more,” Elisa explained. “I kept them alive and going through all that. And more than just surviving, I gave them a sense of pride in themselves, and they don’t want to surrender that, even if it might be the sensible thing to do.”
“I understand,” Annika responded. “In many ways, I feel the same. A part of me doesn’t want to stand down my family’s unit either, regardless of how things are changing.”
“Don’t get me wrong here,” Elisa added. “I’m not getting all romantic for some nonsense lost cause or the like. There is a part of me that would love to just give it all up now.” She glanced away from Annika for a moment, before continuing. “This job, this life, it took so much from me. It took my parents, it took my husband, it took my best friend, and other things too,” she knocked on one of her thighs, producing an ever so slightly audible clunk, “but to give up now, no, that would be a betrayal of all that.”
Annika simply nodded, an understanding look on her face.
“My son wants to continue this life, despite all that,” she continued, absentmindedly rubbing the tattoo on the back of her hand. A picture of a solar eclipse, a black circle surrounded in a halo of flame, it was faded with age. “My family have been mercenaries for longer than we remember, Annika. I don’t think we could do anything else. He will be the Black Sun after me.” It was the name for their family BattleMech, but also a title of sorts. Like so many other things, its origins were lost to the mists of time. “Maybe he’ll even be their leader. Who can say?”
“Thank you no less, Elisa,” Annika nodded. “I understand and respect your decision, and I can’t say that I wouldn’t have done the same in your position”
“If we were sensible and made smart decisions, then none of us would be here,” Elisa finished.
“Figured out what you’re going to call yourselves?” Annika asked.
“We’re working on it,” Elisa shrugged. “Got other things on our minds right now.”
“True.” Annika stood. “I’ll talk with my people and get things sorted out.” She gave a genuinely warm smile. “Take care of yourself, Elisa, and your family. I really do wish you all the best with this.”
“You too,” Elisa replied, and then paused. “And do one thing for me.”
“Anything.”
“Make sure your children have a choice,” she finished. “If they want to continue your legacy, then that’s fine. But if they don’t then embrace that, and support them in whatever they want to do.”
“I will,” Annika finished, her tone making it clear that this was no empty platitude. And in response, Elisa couldn’t help but smile.
-
Dangerous Acquaintances
Ruins of Port Emerson
Rocky, Prefecture X
Republic of the Sphere
24 April 3085
“See anything yet, Raven Three?”
“Only more snow, Raven Actual.”
Inside the cockpit of his Warhammer, Amand Beziz sighed to himself. The front viewscreen matched the report, showing what amounted to a white blur, punctuated by the occasional, somewhat indistinct, grey blob. It was the same thing that he and the rest of his company had been seeing for hours now, and it ever-increasingly felt like they’d continue to see it for the rest of eternity.
“Remind me why we’re here,” another voice cut into the command circuit.
“You know why, Raven Four,” he replied, his tone harsh.
“Fine. Then why the hell is our target here?”
That he couldn’t answer, which annoyed him to no end. “Well, when we find him, we’ll be sure to ask,” he finally added.
That was the part that bothered him, which Amand couldn’t help but consider as his BattleMech slowly advanced through the snow. He slowed to manoeuvre around a building, half of which was buried under centuries of snow and ice before collecting his thoughts. The Black Ravens had come to this buried city on a dead world for one very specific reason; to hunt one man.
“Still nothing,” Three continued. “Between the blizzard and the magscan interference from the buildings, I might as well be blind. They could be right next to me and I wouldn’t see a thing.”
It was taking a lot for Amand not to snap in frustration, instead focusing on the job and his duty. Since its formation, the Republic had been chasing up ‘loose ends’ from the Jihad, doing their best to see them resolved, one way or another.
Their target, Thomas Fairchild, was one such loose end. A mercenary who had worked for the Word during the Jihad, he had committed numerous heinous acts for the fanatics that clearly went beyond regular mercenary service. The Republic wanted him alive to pry the secrets from him; to learn who was giving him his orders and why.
Fairchild had proven to be an elusive target, going to ground after the Jihad and making every effort to evade his pursuers. He had good reason to as well; besides the Republic, Loki were also after him, looking to reclaim their wayward son. And if that happened, whatever secrets he possessed would likely die with him. Loki were many things, but forgiving was not one of those. So the Republic’s goal was not just to bring him in, but to make sure that nobody got to him first.
Not that Fairchild was going to make it easy on them.
The crunching of snow underfoot and the howl of the wind outside was persistent and annoying. The conditions were perfect for their prey to hide in, or even provide cover for him to escape under. Maybe that’s why he’s here, Amand considered. Not only would nobody think to look for him on this snowball, but once they got there he could easily get away. It did fit with their experiences on the chase so far, much to his frustration.
“Raven Two here,” another voice crackled into the channel. “Think I have something.”
“Roger that,” Amand confirmed. “All units, stand by.” This could be it: the moment he’d been waiting for.
Their last stop had been on Thorin, where they had apparently missed Fairchild by a matter of days. He and his men had abandoned their refuge in a hurry, leaving behind enough evidence to indicate where they were going: a dead world that had long since fallen off the map. On the way out they had hijacked a merchantman to take them to their destination in an act that likely was both spontaneous and well-executed.
Raven Company had found the merchant ship after they’d jumped in-system. The crew had put up no resistance when boarded and had gladly cooperated with Amand. They confirmed that the target had left on a DropShip, heading to the once-inhabited planet.
“Negative on that,” Two’s voice cut in again. “It was just a construction crane.”
Damn it. “Understood. Continue search.”
Fairchild being here did make some sense. Throughout the Jihad, the Word had made use of supposedly dead or abandoned worlds as bases of operations, waystations, supply depots and whatever else. A place this close to Terra would have been perfect for them.
The irony was not lost on Amand. Generations ago, his own family had come from some world that had since fallen victim to the Succession Wars.
They knew that Fairchild had made planetfall. A bit of detective work through combing logs and overflights had given the rough location where he’d put down, a fact process helped by the fact that the planet was otherwise quiet. In many ways, this final step, actually bringing him in, was proving to be the hardest part of it.
“I have something,” Three spoke up. “I’m getting some EM noise; not natural, and definitely deliberate. Looks like a Guardian ECM system.”
“Roger that,” Amand nodded. “Keep tracking it. That’s our lead.”
“Did the target have an ECM?” Four butted in.
“He’s piloting a Mad Cat,” Armand reminded him. “Right now he could be carrying anything.” Which was a factor that worked both for and against them. Fairchild’s was hard to predict for a number of reasons, but the fact that he was in an OmniMech was key among them. On the other hand, a Mad Cat was going to stand out, no matter what.
“Signal’s increasing,” Three continued. “I think we have him.”
“All units, converge on Three’s location,” Amand ordered, wheeling his Warhammer around to rendezvous with his lancemate. “Eyes open, weapons hot. Be ready for anything.”
“Taking fire!” Three called out, a crackle of interference filling his voice. “Getting laser fire coming at me... stray missiles too.” The situation would work as much in their favour as against it, with the combination of the blizzard and ruined buildings cutting down ranges.
“Keep eyes on the target,” he ordered. “On my way.” He pushed open the throttle, his Warhammer breaking into a run through the dead city. His tactical display showed the other members of his unit joining him, converging on Three’s location.
A single red icon appeared, its presence flickering on and off as his sensors tried to burn through the interference. Moments later it appeared on his heads-up display, a red square bracketing an unknown hostile target. Not wanting to take the chance, Amand opened fire, his twin particle cannons spitting blue lightning into the fog towards the target. Heat washed over him from the discharge, the cockpit suddenly blistering hot despite the chill outside.
More fire lit up the desolate landscape as the battle was joined. As his forces closed in, more red icons appeared on the display as Fairchild’s forces rallied to defend their fallback. He’s choosing to fight, Amand considered as he fired again, the freezing air outside helping to cool his ‘Mech. If he’s doing that, he must be out of options.
He pressed forwards, continuing his advance on that first target. A pair of lasers shot out from it, one scoring armour from the Warhammer’s side. A moment later, a flight of missiles surged towards him, their trajectory scattered by the winds, resulting in only a few making their mark. Large lasers and long-range missiles, he considered. Could be...
Amand pushed forwards, keeping his sights on the indistinct shape ahead. Switching to thermal he could vaguely make out its shape; bird legs, a hunched-forward torso and splayed-out arms, crowned with boxy missile launchers. Got him. He fired again, this time seeing a flare of blue energy in the distance as his shot made its mark. “All units, I have him. Focus fire on my target.”
In response, several more shots leapt out, blasting into the enemy ‘Mech. While hampered by the storm and cover, it clearly took a few hits, including one that caused it to stagger for a moment. That’s got his attention, he considered as he pushed forwards. Now let’s end this chase.
Fairchild’s men weren’t holding back either, quickly responding to the threat to their leader. A Firestarter pushed forwards towards him, possibly trying to interpose between Amand and his target. It loosed a pair of large laser shots, one slicing armour from the Warhammer’s side.
Before it could close in, the Firestarter was rocked by a massive hit to its side that sent it sprawling. Raven Two’s Osprey closed in on the enemy BattleMech, following through with a pair of lasers. “I got this,” he called out. “Get Fairchild.”
“Thanks,” Amand managed, turning his attention back to his target. Even though its shape was still little more than a blob in the snow, there was no mistaking it. Closing up the distance, he again opened fire with his PPCs, both shots smashing into the enemy ‘Mech’s flank. His wounded opponent twisted around, trying to backpeadal towards cover while continuing to fire its large lasers and missiles.
More hits struck the Warhammer, shaking the seventy-ton BattleMech. A quick glance at the damage display told Amand that his armour was holding for the moment, making him confident to keep pushing forward on his target. If anything, Fairchild’s men seemed to be ill-prepared, caught on the back foot by the attack. I guess they didn’t expect us to come after them here, he considered.
His opponent wasn’t about to go down easily, however. Pushing forwards, Amand walked into a wall of fire coming from the other ‘Mech. A quartet of lasers was accompanied by a flight of missiles pummelled the Warhammer, staggering it backwards. Doing his best to keep the huge machine under control, he replied in kind.
Both PPCs were joined by a pair of medium lasers, as well as a flight of Streak SRMs. The heat hit Amand with hammer force in the cockpit, but the enemy ‘Mech fared even worse. The thermal image of the machine was already bright from its own volley, but flared even brighter as his shots struck home. Must have cracked the engine shielding, Amand considered to himself, even as sweat trickled down his brow. Even in this cold he must be roasting in there.
As if to conform his suspicions, the target tried to pull back again, its movements suddenly slow and clumsy. It opened fire again, this time a half-volley that was more aimed at worrying its target than stopping it. None the less, alarms went off as one of those shots tore through the Warhammer’s side, slagging one of the lasers.
Amand wasn’t going to let that stop him. He replied with the PPCs again, topped off with his Streak SRM launcher. The volley slammed into the enemy ‘Mech, blasting through armour and tearing into its ravaged structure. The machine flared a brilliant white for a moment before its heat signature went dark; moments later, its shape crumpled and collapsed to the ground. “Primary is down,” he called out, the triumph creeping into his voice.
Around him, the remaining enemy ‘Mechs were clearly being pushed back, having been isolated form each other and left unable to provide support. Seeing an opening, he took an opportunistic shot at the back of an enemy Buccaneer, his PPC fire eating through it’s armour and staggering the ‘Mech. A moment later, Two added to its distress with a gauss rifle shot smashing through a leg.
“Get Fairchild,” Two called out. “We’ll mop up here.”
He stepped forward, approaching the downed BattleMech. As he did, he could make out more details of his target, his triumph quickly fading as he did. The shapes were there; the bird-like legs, hunched-over torso and boxy missile launchers, but the details were off. The torso too boxy and angular, legs too thick, exposed weapon barrels on the arms instead of the hexagonal housings. Immediately he recognised the wreck for what it was.
A Rakshasa, a BattleMech deliberately designed to mimic the Mad Cat. And between the blizzard and the cover, its shape and weapon load had been enough to fool Amand.
“Raven Actual?” Two’s voice came into the channel. “What’s our status?”
Damn him, Amand thought to himself. All of a sudden a lot of things were becoming clear. “Target has escaped,” he managed. “Mop up the remaining hostiles and bring in who you can.” He was never here, was he? He considered. This was an elaborate false trail, one we’ve been following for months. He thought about the trail of evidence that bought him here. Years, maybe.
So where the hell are you?
-
Guest chapter by KayEmm
Book of the New Sun
This one was good to write for a number of reasons; key among them was that Elisa Moreno was my first Battletech 'character' so to speak. So this was her retirement.
I'm loving this all, but I am biased
-
Take on Me
New Madrid, Barcelona
Poznan, Prefecture V
Republic of the Sphere
26 June 3132
As far as Juanita knew, there was a Tharonja's restaurant on just about every planet in the Republic. It was a chain of restaurants that offered entirely serviceable food; not brilliant but far from terrible at the same time. Certainly, nobody important or interesting ever went to a Tharonja's, which made it a great place for a wanted criminal to meet someone and know that they weren't likely to be seen by anyone whom they didn't want to be seen by.
That suited her perfectly.
She strolled in, looking confident and casual, acting like she owned the place. Plopping down at a booth, she made an act of studying the menu for whole seconds before the waitress turned up.
"I'll have the Tharonja's Deluxe Double Bacon Burger with a side of fries," she all but demanded, not bothering to look at the waitress. "And a Novos-Soda."
Ignoring the waitress' reply, she instead scanned the room. Two days ago, someone had called her, which was a surprise in and of itself. Her number was something she rarely gave out, and she knew who had it. This voice on the other end had not been one of those, which both intrigued and concerned her. He'd arranged to meet her, and let her pick the time and place. She'd said here because of its relative anonymity. That and the burgers were good.
What concerned her more was that he'd stated that he had a proposition for her, a potential line of employment. Given what her current job was and what other people might hire her for, she found that most intriguing. Curiosity had overcome caution, and she'd decided to make the meet. Even then, she'd taken precautions.
The waitress arrived with her drink, Juanita all but looking past her to study the rest of the room. A figure caught her attention; a man who had just stepped in, conspicuous in his inconspicuous approach. Dressed in what could be described as 'business casual', he had a slender face and long black hair tied into a loose ponytail. To top it all off, he was wearing sunglasses indoors.
That's got to be him. She tensed up, ready to take off if needed.
He sat down, nodding to her. "Juanita Kwan, correct?"
"Yeah, and who wants to know?" She shot him a critical glance.
He took off his sunglasses, revealing narrow brown eyes. "My name is Antonin Rybak," he began. "I've been following your work for some time."
"Yeah, and how'd you get this number?" she countered. "It's not something I casually throw about."
"Money talks," he offered. "I'm sure that in your line of work you'd know that already."
"My line of work." She snorted derisively. "What do you know about it?"
"Chicken BLT, please," he casually dropped at a passing waitress, before turning back to Juanita. "Quite a lot, actually. Like I said, I've been following your work for some time. That's what bought you to my attention. You have skills that I would find useful."
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Oh, I'm sure you do, Ms Kwan," he countered. "You and I both know that your current line of work is far from legal and that it's attracted a lot of attention that I'm sure you don't really want."
"Like what?"
"Like your little escapade the other day," he explained. "The one that made front-page across the whole city. That sort of attention."
She nodded slowly. "Well, since I have no idea what you're talking about, you'll have to enlighten me." Fake innocence was obvious in her speech.
"I'm referring to your last joyride, Juanita," he began.
"What joyride?"
"You stole a Carbine ConstructionMech-"
"Borrowed," she countered. "I was going to bring it back."
"-and went on a joyride through the city, doing thousands of C-Bills in damage," he continued, not missing a beat.
"I was checking its gyro calibration. Good thing too, it was way off."
"Did that require stepping on the Mayor's limo?"
"That was an accident."
"You could be heard laughing from the ground."
"I heard something funny on the radio." It was more of an admission of surrender then an attempt at defence in weight of the evidence.
"Let's not mess around, Ms 'Zoom-Zoom' Kwan." His tone was factual, but not forceful, but the use of her nickname suggested that he knew more then he'd let on so far. "You already have a preexisting juvenile criminal record. You also have numerous other minor and petty convictions, and we both know that the authorities are just looking for a way to make it all stick."
She glanced away from him, the guilt obvious. Regardless, he continued. "You dropped out of high school and even then, you were a chronic underperformer. You have no formal training and no qualifications. Your career choices are largely limited to a life of future crime or a long stay in prison – and the two are far from mutually exclusive."
Again she said nothing, letting the words sink in. "Despite this, Juanita Kwan, you are clearly skilled, resourceful and intelligent. While you have no formal accreditation, you are a skilled IndustrialMech operator, and you know enough to successfully break into one, override its safety systems and then get it moving."
"And if that wasn't enough, you've made a career out of it." He stated. "You steal IndustrialMechs. Most of the time you seem to be in the pay of others; stealing Industrials and dropping them off for money. Other times, like the aforesaid moment, you seem to be a joyrider; you steal an Industrial for the simple sake of it, do some damage and leave it abandoned."
"You've kept ahead of the law, yes, but as I said, that cannot last forever. Nor have you left many options open for yourself. Have you, at any point, considered what you would do with your life otherwise?"
There was a long silence, punctuated only by a loud slurping from Juanita as she finished off the last of her soda. "Not... not really," she admitted. Looking out the window, and avoiding his gaze, she stared at the traffic instead.
"Now given that, as said, you're a lot smarter then you act, I'm also sure that you're aware of this fact. You just simply chose to ignore it. In fact, some less generous individuals might suggest that you were trying to get yourself killed rather than face up to your lack of options."
"Well..." she began, but again trailed off.
"Now I'm sure you have some justifying argument," he stated. "I'll admit that I've looked into your background, but not too far. I am sure that you have some motivation – real or imagined – in there. However, I am not going to judge you on that. In fact, I really don't care about your past."
She turned to look at him, an angry glare in her eyes. "So what the hell do you want, ponytail?" Her voice was rising, her temper fraying. Whether it was at his frank assessment and how much the truth of it hurt, or if it was at his dismissal of her reasoning, was up for debate. Either way, she didn't like it.
"Simply put, I want you for your skills and knowledge. I want to employ you."
She flopped back in her seat. "So hang on here." Juanita started. "You first point out that what I'm doing is wrong and bad, and then state that I have no future in continuing to do it. Then you tell me you want me to do more of it." She cocked her head. "You're sending out mixed signals here, ponytail."
"If I may explain more thoroughly?"
"Go for it." She shot back. "This should be good."
"You steal Industrials for a living. And yet, have you never once wondered who's buying all of them or why?"
"Should I?" She shrugged. "They pay me. That's all I care."
"How about this," he offered. "I can offer you a full-time job with a salary. In return for that, you will serve as an investigator of sorts, helping me trace back every last IndustrialMech you've stolen. From there, if that works out, I'll keep you on for other such investigations and, where needed, to use your particular skills."
"Sounds good, but I'm gonna need more." She leaned in close, studying his face. "You're asking me to squeal on people who have been good to me so far. And I'm not going to do that for nothing."
"Entirely fair," the man acknowledged. "So I have another incentive for you, Juanita Kwan. Work for me and I'll make you more than just an IndustrialMech thief. I'll make you a full MechWarrior – with all that it entails."
She blinked at his reply, at a loss for words. Under Stone's disarmament programs, 'Mech armies had been massively downsized, with many 'Mechs simply scrapped. Real MechWarriors, ones who piloted real BattleMechs, were a rare and privileged elite. The prestige and power in their position alone was incentive enough to drive anyone to aspire to be amongst their ranks.
And his words suggested more. A real BattleMech; not just a modified Industrial. To have such wealth, such power... it was something she had never dreamed of. And he was offering it to her.
"Tell me more," she finally spoke up, a hungry, excited tone in her voice.
-
This is interesting
-
MRBC Internal Report 403/91K
To: Harold Manago
From: Zane Wu
Subject: Stanislav’s Hammers
Date: 06 July 3138
You asked me to look into the origin of Stanislav’s Hammers and their commander in particular to see what I could find. The answer is ‘not a lot’.
To be fair, it’s not like I had much to work with beforehand. Nobody ever tracked down the origin of the first iteration of the unit, and not for a lack of effort. They emerged in the rimward near-Periphery in the early 31st century; the lack of record-keeping on the part of the Periphery mercenary trade of the time means that we can’t even nail down the first year they appeared. Given the number of abandoned and dead worlds, lost colonies, unmarked worlds and so on in the region, they could have come from nearly anywhere.
The unit fought during the Aurigan Civil War on the side of the Arano Restoration. During that time they worked alongside the Krymzon Guard; events that occurred during the campaign saw an alliance form between the two units that was strong enough to last over a century. And before you ask, yes, I approached members of the de Luca family (EDITOR’S NOTE: the family who have lead the Krymzon Guard since their formation) regarding Stanislav and his unit. They politely but firmly refused to comment.
The current iteration of the Hammers appeared in 3132, appearing on Herotitus a month after the HPG Blackout. They gave no indication as to their point of origin, and politely but firmly rebuffed any efforts at probing into heir past. However, given the often ‘no questions asked’ approach of the Periphery mercenary market, few had any actual issue with that. When asked, the only information that Stanislav would offer was a cryptic statement that it was a place that he could no longer return to, and that there was no need to say more.
Seriously, he would say that all the time.
While this iteration of the Hammers was initially made up entirely of those who had arrived on Herotitus, they showed no hesitation about hiring outsiders. The unit grew over the next five years before it relocated here to Galatea. Stanislav immediately was able to rekindle his alliance with the de Luca family despite the fact that there had (apparently) been no contact between the two groups in nearly six decades.
Leonid himself offers very few clues to his origins, and definitely refuses any efforts to learn more. He speaks what seems to be Tikonov Russian as his primary language, and is fluent in Arabic as well. Conversely, his English is broken and heavily accented; however he’s had the occasional moment that suggests his grasp of the language might be better than he is letting on. Likewise, while he normally is prone to explosive outbursts and a short temper, his performance in simulated battles shows that he is far more cunning on the battlefield. All of this suggests that his persona is an act, but to what end is unclear.
His ’Mech isn’t that much of a help either. Leonid pilots a Marauder which I’ve managed to identify as a MAD-2R model. Externally it appears to be battered and worn, but in fact it is fully functional. However, I’m yet to determine its age or point of origin. It could be a SLDF relic, a new-build Taurian model or even a 3R that’s been refitted.
One thing that is clearly honest about him is his hatred of the Clans. While he won’t hold back in expressing his feelings towards them, he also will refuse any explanation as to why.
I did turn up one curiosity. His second-in-command, Zeke Isaacs, is one of those who simply appeared with the rest of the unit in 3132. It turns out that Isaacs is related to a current serving DCMS officer. The last point of connection between the two is a mercenary officer who fought for the Combine in the Second Succession War.
-
Think Like a Gun
Dhruma
Al Jubaylah
Former Free Worlds League
12 December 3144
The dusty courtyard of the café offered very little respite from the hot, dry air, something that annoyed Alexis to no end as she sat and waited there, idly sipping from her iced water as she did. Taking an ice cube from the glass to wipe over her brow bought a small amount of respite, a minimal relief but still better than none.
She stood out, no doubt about it. Tall and athletic, her shoulder-length red hair framed a face that would have been attractive if not for her prominent chin. A smattering of freckles across the cheeks softened that to a degree, almost a contrast to the rest of her features. Clad in a sweatshirt and running shorts, she looked like she’d just come in from a jog, something that was not out of place even if a little odd given the heat.
Drumming her fingers on the table in frustration, she glanced around the courtyard again. Alexis knew why she was here, but she didn’t have to like it. Combining that with the heat meant that she was in a foul mood, and was doing her best to keep a lid on it. Brushing off a waiter didn’t help any, especially as his tone was more than a little insistent that she either order something or move along.
Finally, after a short eternity, she spied another figure entering the courtyard and headed towards her. He couldn’t have been much more different from her; short and more than a little overweight, he was clad in a lightweight white suit and hat, but still was sweating profusely regardless. “I’m sorry to have kept you,” he began, his tone friendly and pleasant as he sat. “Beastly heat, isn’t it?”
Holding back what she wanted to say, Alexis simply nodded a small agreement. “Yeah, I have no idea why I’d be out here,” she managed, the closest she’d come to openly questioning him, knowing full well that she couldn’t go too much further.
“And thank you for agreeing to meet me, Alexis,” he continued. “I think that you’ll be quite interested in what I have to say.”
“Somehow I doubt that,” she muttered.
“On the contrary.” He shook his head. “Since we have known each other, you have made your distress at your family’s situation more then clear to me,” he explained. “And I understand why you would be upset. I only want what’s best for you, which is why I asked for this meeting.”
Like that isn’t a loaded statement that could be taken a dozen different ways, she told herself, managing to keep her mouth shut. “I’m still paying for my grandfather’s decisions.”
“Which is why I am here.” The man managed with a fake-looking smile as they waved to a waiter. “I have a job for you, Alexis. One that will, hopefully, redress this wrong that was done to your family.”
Alexis didn’t catch what he ordered as her mind raced through the possibilities. “What do you mean?” she finally spluttered, not sure if she would like the answer but also needing to know regardless.
“The time has come for you to finalise your grandfather’s debt, Alexis.” He simply stated as he passed her a datapad. “One last job, and then you will be free.”
She swallowed loudly as she took the pad. It can’t be that simple, can it? Her mind was racing with the possibilities. Freedom after all these years… but whatever it is, the price will be horrific. One last job seems almost too easy, too little a price.
“All the details are in there, Alexis,” he explained. “You’ll recognise the target, I’m sure.”
She stopped as she found the attached file, recognising the image that was with it. “You’re going after this?”
He shrugged. “It was not my first choice,” the man admitted. “However, the other one is unavailable due to a circumstance that was well beyond my control, and yet I should have seen coming.” There was a hint of regret in his voice, but Alexis’ past encounters with this man told her that it was unlikely to be even remotely genuine. “By the time I realised what I was after, it was much too late to act.”
“Whatever. I don’t care about your screw-up. Just as long as you live up to your end of the bargain, fat man.” However, she wasn’t focused, her mind instead racing with the possibilities of what he had said.
“Just make sure you do what we need,” he finished with a smile. “And leave nothing out.”
Her eyes scanned through the document again, taking in the details of what she needed to do, what he was asking of her in exchange for giving her everything that she had ever wanted. It seemed like a small price, but she had long ago learned that there was a lot more going on then even she could imagine.
And then she reached the end of the document, two simple words, ones that told her everything she needed to know. “You’ll have your objective, fat man,” Alexis stated as she stood. “You’ll have what you want, and then so will I.”
-
Price of Hate
Torrens River Flats
Hindmarsh
27 June 3148
It was all Connie Raymond could do not to scream in frustration.
Her Falconer pushed forwards as she ignored all that as going on around it, instead keeping her eyes focused on the one target in front of her. Around her, the men of her unit were fighting and dying, their cohesion falling apart along with everything else. Even her own BattleMech was reflecting the situation, with one side torn open and two of its lasers already destroyed. The enemy had not only been relentless, but they had also been ready for everything she had to throw at them. All her plans had come undone, leaving her on the back foot and struggling to catch up.
That her own daughter had been among them had only added to her anger.
Despite all that had happened, she also knew that she still had a chance here to end this on her own terms. That was the single thought that guided her as she drove her ‘Mech forward, right at the heart of the enemy formation. In her sights was a single ‘Mech, a blue Mad Cat Mk IV, the focus of all her anger. She knew who was at the controls of the machine.
Irisz Magyari. Her enemy.
A feud that had lasted a century would end here.
She squeezed the trigger on her main weapons, with her PPC and gauss rifle both spitting fire at her opponent. The Mad Cat was briefly washed with a ball of blue energy, but kept going despite the hellish energies unleashed on it. A moment later it replied in kind, its arm-mounted lasers spitting a stream of green darts back at the Falconer. The impacts rocked the ‘Mech, but it was not enough to slow Connie down.
Firing her jump jets, she cleared over a ditch before twisting the controls, looking for some sort of cover. A crumbled warehouse, half lost in the overgrowth came close enough, giving her a moment to open fire on her target again. This time both weapons struck home, drilling into the Mad Cat’s side.
Despite her movement, the enemy ‘Mech was able to track her and respond in kind, its lasers again lashing out at her. One of them shredded armour off her arm, while the other shattered the fallen wall in front of her. Not wanting to make herself a target, she broke into a run, continuing to keep her eyes on the target as her weapons recharged.
Toto’s Thanatos backed past her cockpit; its left-side launcher was little more than burning wreckage, which added to the grievous sight of the hole ripped through its flank. The scar traced across the canopy only seemed to underscore the point. The blocky BattleMech dropped out of sight, clearly pulling back from the engagement.
“Roughneck Lead to Roughneck Zero-Three,” Connie opened up as she pushed her own Falconer forwards, making a dash for a low-lying ridge while trying to shield her damaged side. “What the hell are you doing pulling back?”
“The battle’s lost, Lead,” Toto replied, strain evident in his voice. “We can pull back now and preserve what’s left of our force.” As if to underscore his point, her target fired again, spitting darts of green energy in her direction. One shot seared armour off her Falconer’s flank, slicing into the already thinned protection. The other spent its energies on the ridgeline.
“Negative,” she spat. “Get back in there, Zero-Three. That is an order.” She twisted her ‘Mech around, bringing her own weapons to bear in response. While the PPC shredded armour off the target’s leg, the gauss rifle went wide, only serving to add to her frustration. “That is an order. Do you read me?” Her tone made it clear that Connie was expecting a ‘yes’.
Toto’s only response was to continue pulling back.
Connie swallowed what she was going to say, continuing to focus on the matter at hand. Firing her jump jets, she leaped over the ridgeline and opened up again on her target. This time, both weapons struck home, slamming into the Mad Cat’s shoulder and side. The sleek OmniMech wavered on its feet as it advanced, but that wasn’t enough to throw its pilot off.
Its two pulse lasers again reached out, the beams making their mark despite her own movement. Warning lights went off as they devoured the armour over her arm and leg, but Connie pushed them aside. A last-second flare of the jump jets bought her down in an awkward crouch; not perfect, but far better than it could have been.
As she turned her Falconer to again bring her weapons to bear, something else caught her eye. There was another BattleMech behind the Mad Cat, one that she immediately recognized. Snapping off a pair of shots, she opened a link to the other ‘Mech. “Roughneck Three-One, assist me,” she demanded as her attacks went wide of the target, a quiet curse sneaking in under her breath. “Do you read me?” It was less a request as it was a demand.
“But Dad’s in trouble,” Ronnie’s voice came back, his usual bravado replaced with an uncharacteristic hesitation.
“Negative, three-one,” she snarled as another burst of fire lashed the Falconer’s side. Glancing at the damage display for a moment, Connie did her best to keep shielding the damaged flank while keeping her sights on the Mad Cat. “I need you now.”
“But he could be hurt or-“
“****** it, Ronnie!” She shouted into the channel, her frustration exploding outwards. “For once in your worthless life don’t be a useless sack of crap and actually do something!”
Her only reply was a click as the channel closed. Moments later, his Griffin turned, running away from the pair of them.
She wanted to scream at him, to let out her frustrations and anger at him for joining the long list of people who had failed her. Instead, choking it back, she turned her rage around, focusing it on her target. Closing down the distance, she opened up with all her remaining weapons.
Her aggression was immediately rewarded, with the gauss rifle slamming into the Mad Cat’s left arm. The hypervelocity slug tore through the weapon, ripping it apart in a shower of debris while sending the ‘Mech reeling back. The PPC and remaining lasers added to the carnage, boring into its side and burning through the already depleted armour.
She had only a moment to savor the victory before her opponent’s strike hit home. Laser fire melted through what little protection was left on her side, followed by a hail of Streak SRMs that rained down on her ‘Mech. One of them found her exposed gauss rifle, detonating the array of capacitors and magnets, unleashing the energies stored within. Connie had a second to register what was happening before the weapon tore itself apart, sending a wave of feedback through her neurohelmet.
The world erupted into a screech of pain, her vision going white.
-
Raymond’s Roughnecks: The Lost Years
Irisz,
This is the best that I have been able to put together regarding the history of Raymond’s Roughnecks, where they went to and how they were able to return. It also delves somewhat into Connie Raymond’s personal history and why she was so determined to reignite a century-old feud to the point that she used her own children as weapons.
Unfortunately, this report is not entirely complete and contains some reasonable speculation on my part. There are a variety of reasons for this. First and foremost is the redaction and censoring of your grandmother’s journals, including those portions relating to the Roughnecks during the Jihad. The HPG Blackout and effective collapse of the MRBC have not helped either. Finally, it has to be said that the Periphery mercenary trade does have the best record-keeping, something many units have taken advantage of.
Both Jessie Packard and Ronnie Raymond Jr. were invaluable in the research needed to produce this report. Despite their pasts, I feel that we can trust both of them, especially in light of what happened on Hindmarsh.
NK
The chain of events that leads us to where we are now starts during the Jihad. Raymond’s Roughnecks were employed by the Word of Blake during that conflict, initially through proxy groups and then later directly by the Word themselves. At that point, the unit was led by Nina Raymond; her two adult children, Colin and Bruce served as officers.
Knowing about the history of our units, the Word used the Roughnecks to assassinate Jelek Magyari [EDITOR’S NOTE: then-commander of Magyari’s Irregulars and Irisz’s great-grandfather] on Goth Kakhar in early 3068. This was a part of a campaign of raids aimed at triggering a broader conflict between the Marian Hegemony and the Rim Commonality. Following Jelek’s death, the Roughneck’s raided the world, expecting to face a weak and demoralized unit. Instead, Annika [EDITOR’S NOTE: Anika Magyari, Jelek’s daughter] was able to rally the unit and repel the attack.
The two units would clash again in mid-3075 on Emris IV. The Roughnecks raided the world, ostensibly in the name of disrupting factory production but also deliberately targeting the Irregulars, who were present at the time. While many of the details of what occurred have been redacted, we can verify a few things. During the battle of Port Rouge, Nina Raymond was killed in battle with Annika Magyari. Furthermore, Colin Raymond was captured. The surviving Roughnecks, now under the command of Bruce Raymond, retreated off-world and fled to the Protectorate. While it is assumed that Nina Raymond died of injuries sustained during the battle, her autopsy was also redacted. Colin would ultimately remain a prisoner of the Coalition and later the Republic.
Damaged but still operational, the Roughnecks would continue working for the Word for the next three years. During Operation SCOUR they chose to desert the Word and fled to the rimward Periphery. In order to cover his tracks, Bruce Raymond changed his name and that of his unit, becoming Bruce Barrett, commander of Barrett’s Bushrangers. The Bushrangers quietly integrated themselves into the Periphery mercenary trade, taking full advantage of the poor record-keeping and no-questions-asked approach that it favoured to remain hidden.
Bruce Barrett stepped down from command of the unit circa 3090 due to injuries, handing control of the unit over to his son, Kevin. The early years of his command were marked by a growth in their size and the development of their pirate-hunting skills. A notable moment came in 3093 when the Bushrangers were responsible for the destruction of Andrea’s Furies, a pirate band who were also once mercenaries employed by the Word.
On the personal side of things, Kevin married twice. He had two sons by his first wife, and a single daughter, Connie (b. 3095) by his second. In 3107, his wife died to a rare disease found on the Periphery world where they were serving. Devastated by this loss, Connie Barrett would form a bond with her grandfather, Bruce. He filled her head with stories of life in the Inner Sphere and the unit’s past, including their feud. This would come to shape her life, as she blamed her mother’s death on their circumstances; if they hadn’t fled to the Periphery, then she would not have suffered the death that she did.
All three of Kevin’s children trained as MechWarriors with the expectation that they would continue the unit’s legacy. However, Connie Barrett had other plans. In 3117, she formed an alliance with several of the Bushrangers’ officers, most notably Shane Packard, a young lieutenant, and staged a coup. This not only put her in command of the Bushrangers, but also pushed her two half-brothers out of the unit. Connie Barrett married Shane Packard afterward as a part of her play to cement control of the unit.
By 3119, the unit had relocated to Galatea, developing something of a double life. Outwardly the unit operated as Barrett’s Bushrangers from the Mercenary’s Star. However, internally, Connie Barrett had reclaimed the Raymond name, and had taken to calling the unit Raymond’s Roughnecks. This was aided by its often off-the-books contracts that it took at the time. In 3120, Jessie Raymond (née Jessie Packard) was born, the daughter of Connie and, allegedly, Shane Packard. Shortly afterwards, Shane Packard was killed in battle with AMSC forces.
In early 3122 the Roughnecks entered into an alliance with McDougall's Iron Horse, an armour and infantry unit that had recently lost its commander and a not-inconsiderable portion of its strength while fighting in the Draconis Reach. Connie Raymond and Ronald McDougall, the last heir to the family-run command, chose to merge their units, an alliance sealed with the marriage of the two and cemented with the birth of their child, Ronnie Raymond Jr., in 3123. Oddly enough, even though the Roughnecks were the smaller of the two commands (and technically the newer) the combined unit maintained the Roughneck name, insignia and even colour schemes, with no concessions to the Iron Horse.
Over the next decade, the Roughnecks grew, eventually stabilising as a rough combined-arms battalion. The unit would often rotate between the Galatea and Herotitus hiring halls, varying their base of operations depending on the prevailing winds in the mercenary trade and the opportunities available to them. The result was one of the few units that was actually well positioned to take advantage of the HPG blackout and the events that followed.
By early 3133, the Roughnecks were seeing action in the Republic, openly working for the various splinter factions that had risen up. The unit had also relocated again, this time being based on Outreach as a part of the strange revival of the mercenary trade that had sprung up on the devastated world. It was largely by luck that the Roughnecks were not caught up in the formation of Fortress Republic, being off Outreach on a contract when the walls went up.
Their next significant action occurred in 3138, when the Roughnecks were hired by the Komephoros government in an effort to clean up the disaster that their mercenary civil war had become. Over the course of the next few months, Connie Raymond lead her unit in hunting down and eliminating a number of the fragmented commands that had plagued the planet for the last year. Along the way, the Roughnecks netted valuable salvage, allowing them to not only bring the unit up to full strength but also upgrade or replace some of their older equipment. During this time, Raymond began investigating Magyari’s Irregulars, eyeing opportunities to end the long-running feud on their terms.
In 3142, Jessie Raymond was given a place in the unit’s roster, allegedly in order to prepare her to eventually inherit command of the unit. While she proved to be less than capable as an officer, her parentage ensured that her place would not be challenged. Ronnie Raymond Jr. would join her a year later, and prove to be equally as mediocre an officer. Regardless, Connie Raymond continued to press the pair of them, Jessie particularly, as potential heirs.
Contact between our two units would not occur until 3145, when we met on Ashburton while serving on opposite sides of the same contract. Matters were further complicated by the arrival of a Wolf Empire force, resulting in the destruction of a Roughnecks’ lance and the capture of Ronnie Raymond Jr by the Wolves. Connie Raymond had planned to trade captured members of the Irregulars to the Wolves in trade for her son. Instead, Jessie Raymond worked with her captives to free Ronnie. Instead of being glad to have her son back, Connie turned on Jessie and blamed her for a lost opportunity. This would lead to Jessie defecting to the Irregulars, a move that would only further fuel Connie Raymond’s resentment.
Now fully driven by her own need for revenge and her growing resentment, Connie Raymond would join Eckhart Stein’s effort at empire building. This would culminate in the 3148 battle of Hindmarsh, where the Roughnecks would face us again. The battle resulted not only in the unravelling of Stein’s plans, but also the effective destruction of Raymond’s Roughnecks. After the Roughnecks suffered severe losses (including Ron McDougall being disabled), both Ronnie Raymond and Connie’s third, Zaki Toto, abandoned her on the field in order to preserve what was left of the unit.
In the aftermath of the conflict, Toto took what was left of the Rougnecks (without Raymond or McDougall) and left for the Periphery. In doing such, Toto retired the Roughnecks name, renaming what was left to Toto’s Bushrangers.
At this point, the Roughnecks are no more. Both Jessie Packard and Ronnie Raymond have effectively disavowed their mother and her legacy, and both have shown no interest in continuing a pointless feud. With Ron McDougall retired and Toto deliberately avoiding any connection to his previous commander, there is nothing left of the unit. The sole exception is Connie Raymond’s agent, Ash Wednesday, who remains missing following Hindmarsh. However, based on recovered information, he not only had no interest in the feud itself, but also was becoming actively afraid of Connie Raymond and her obsession.
-
Audio Log 080650-H
Antonin Rybak: Irisz, it’s good to see you again.
Irisz Magyari: At this point it was inevitable, one way or the other.
Rybak: Fully understandable. After all, this is a big decision.
Magyari: To say the least. I spent the whole week thinking about what you said and your offer and just how tempting it was.
Rybak: I sense a ‘but’ coming on here.
Magyari: You would be right there. [Pause] I had to think about why I was doing this and why I was making the choice I did.
Rybak: And what conclusion did you reach?
Magyari: I admit that you baited the hook well, ponytail. The offer of Annika’s complete and uncensored journals is a very strong one. My family have kept their journals ever since they got into the business over a century ago. Save for those omissions it’s a basically unbroken line.
Rybak: That’s quite an impressive feat.
Magyari: Oh, it is. I learned a lot from them along the way. Looking at my great-great-grandmother Sel’s journals, for example, was enlightening. Even though she was more than a little vain and self-centered, she had a lot of interesting insights and thoughts. My father, as…flighty as he was still took the time to continue that tradition. Hell, he still could be doing it now, wherever he is.
Rybak: And you do the same, of course.
Magyari: Naturally. I’m doing it for myself, and for any children I may have or… other reasons.
Rybak: Hence your interest in your grandmother’s journals.
Magyari: That’s what I thought at first; after all, it would plug a few gaps and doubtless explain a few things. I strongly expect to learn more about what happened to Nina Raymond, for example, given that her death is among the redacted sections. I especially think that’d be helpful to Jessie to explain a few things to her.
Rybak: And now is when that ‘but’ rears its ugly head.
Magyari: You would be right there. I thought about it, and realised that putting my allies and friends on the line for your personal agenda, whatever it was, just for the sake of my own unanswered questions was ultimately selfish.
Rybak: I see.
Magyari: However, I also had to agree with what you said. I don’t want a future ruled by the Wolves or the Falcons. One run by the Capellans or Dracs wouldn’t be too much better. If that future is inevitable, we need to plan for it and be ready for when it comes.
Magyari: I am. And here comes that ‘but’.
Rybak: Go on.
Magyari: I get to decide who’s in the inner circle of this little conspiracy. I pick my people, but I also let them pick their own people on top of that; allies of allies and so forth. If one of them says ‘no’ and chooses to walk away, then that’s their choice and you won’t try to turn it around or pull them back in. Likewise, they’re free to commit as much as they want to this. [Pause] Oh, and I also get my grandmother’s journals, of course.
Rybak: All entirely fair, and I wouldn’t have expected any less.
Magyari: Or in short, exactly as you had planned.
Rybak: Maybe.
Magyari: Of course. That’s why I came to this meeting with the list of people I want in on this.
Rybak: Honestly, I would have been surprised if you hadn’t. So lay it on me.
Magyari: I’ll assume that you know who all these people are. By this point, I think I’d be more surprised if you didn’t.
Rybak: I’ll take that as a compliment
Magyari: First of all, Kari Moreno. Our families have history, and I wouldn’t be surprised if some of that history is hidden in those journals. On top of that, she has a drive and determination that means she won’t back down from a challenge. And I feel like we’ll need that sort of determination.
Rybak: Agreed there. Solid choice.
Magyari: Next, Isabella de Luca. Again, shared family history. Plus she’s got her own network of allies that she can call on which could be very useful to us. And even then, her history of… creative solutions could be very helpful going into an uncertain future.
Rybak: Odd choice and not one I would have made, but I understand your logic there.
Magyari: Glad we agree then. Third is Terry McKinnon.
Rybak: Interesting. Any reason why him and not Damien? I’d have picked him given that he is the leader of the Marauders.
Magyari: Several, actually. First of all, I have a more… personal connection with Terry, which means that I can rely on him as a part of this. Conversely, my relationship with Damien is more professional. Second is that he did me a massive favour a couple of years ago, and I owe him big time for it. And third is that Damien McKinnon is a jerk.
Rybak: Fair enough then. I defer to your reasoning there.
Magyari: Besides, Terry gives us an in with his unit no less. That brings me to number four; Lanie King. She’s a friend of mine and I feel that I can trust her on that alone, but there’s more than just that. Lanie’s drive to rebuild her unit’s name and reputation means that’s she’s brutally honest and upfront with people. At the same time, her determination to keep her nose clean means that I trust her to tell me when I’m stepping over the line.
Rybak: You want her as your conscience.
Magyari: I have no illusions about our getting our hands dirty. I just also want to know when to stop.
Rybak: Fully understandable.
Magyari: Was that a hint of regret there?
Rybak: So who was your next pick?
Magyari: One last one and I know you’re not going to like them, but Gillian Blackrock.
Rybak: That would be a fair assessment. I assume you know abut her past?
Magyari: Some, and I have no doubt that you could fill me in on more of it. But I have my reasons.
Rybak: And those would be what?
Magyari: She’s a fantastically connected information broker in her own right, and can massively extend our reach on her own. She’s been invaluable to my unit in past. And, frankly, if we start this little plot of ours then sooner or later she’ll find out about it anyway. So we might as well have her in on the ground floor of this to begin with.
Rybak: I can’t argue with your logic there, as much as I want to. She’s in. Was there anyone else?
Magyari: That was it.
Rybak: Good. I admit now that I had an asset of my own to bring in on this as well.
Magyari: Why am I not surprised at this? Or for that matter that you’d wait until I played all my cards before you played this one?
Rybak: They’re in a similar position to your other choices; they’re a mercenary MechWarrior and, yes, have a bit of a colourful past. But I will vouch for them and I know I can rely on them.
Magyari: Guess I don’t have a choice in the matter, huh?
Rybak: You have your people, I have mine.
Magyari: Fair. [Pause] I’ll contact my people and set up a meeting. Can’t say who will actually be on board for this, but it’s worth a shot.
Rybak: Thank you for this. Oh, and here you go.
Magyari: A data chip, huh? What’s this.
Rybak: The journals. They’re yours.
Magyari: Thank you. I mean it.
-
Guest character courtesy of KayEmm
Ariel Lamcheck
Position/Rank: Gladiator
Affiliation/Unit: Independent/Solaris
Birth Year: 3114
Ariel Lamcheck’s life is one that has taken several unexpected turns; when they have tried to seize control of their destiny, it has instead continued to throw obstacles in their path. Rather than resigning themselves to their fate, however, they have chosen to make the most of their situation.
They were born in the Marik-Stewart Commonwealth during the comparatively peaceful years of the Pax Republica. Despite this, they chose to enlist in the Armed Forces of the Marik-Stewart Commonwealth out of a combination of patriotism and no small degree of family tradition. By the time they had graduated through their training, however, everything had changed. The collapse of the HPG network and the Republic’s falling into chaos had created an uncertain new world.
Ariel would first see action during the Commonwealth’s probing attacks into the Republic, ones that were aimed at testing the waters for the reclamation of traditionally Marik worlds. While taking part in several raids, the combination of the defeat on Stewart and subsequent loss of Marik to a combined Sea Fox and Spirit Cat force put those plans on hold. When the Lyran Commonwealth moved to take Tamarind-Abbey, Ariel, like the rest of the AMSC, were prepared for the worst.
Even then, few were ready for the full-scale invasion of the Commonwealth by Clan Wolf. Ariel faced the Clan invaders on several worlds, but each time was forced into retreat. While lucky to be alive, they were angered by the Wolves’ destruction of their nation, especially as reports of the Wolves killing surrendering forces circled. At the same time, they also grew frustrated at the Commonwealth’s leadership, who seemed to be unable to pull themselves together to mount an effective defense.
Finally, rather than continuing to fight a hopeless battle, Ariel chose to defect their post. Making their way through the frontlines, they arrived on the Game World of Solaris VII, looking to make a new life for themselves. Their timing was fortuitous, as the Game World was in the midst of a revival after a decades-long slump, and recruiters were eagerly looking for talent. Ariel’s military experience allowed them to win a place in a minor stable, and they quickly showed that their sponsors’ faith was not misplaced with several victories.
Their rising gladiatorial career would take another twist in 3142 when the Wolf Empire invaded Solaris. While the Clan’s conquest of the world was nearly bloodless, there was considerable fear that they would put a stop to the games, given the Clans’ distaste for such matters. Instead, to the surprise of all involved, the Wolves allowed the games to continue, but only after introducing their own condition: Wolf warriors would be allowed to challenge Solaris gladiators to matches in order to prove their superiority.
Ariel would not be immune to this new order by any means. In mid-3143, they were challenged by a Wolf warrior who was incensed over their choice of BattleMech. While many expected a one-sided battle, Ariel proved the odds wrong and handily defeated their opponent. This proved to be an opportunity for them to let out the frustration that had been building for years, as they chose to publicly humiliate their opponent’s lack of skill and arrogance and, by extension, blacken the eye of the Empire as a whole.
For the last seven years Ariel has continued their career, facing both other Solaris contenders as well as challenges from the Wolves. In each case, they have defeated their Clan opponent, and made a show of it in the process. This has seen Ariel become something of a lightning rod for anti-Clan sentiment among the planet’s population. Rumours persist that they have contacts with anti-Clan resistance movements.
WVR-10R Wolverine Skinner
Mass: 55 tons
Chassis: Crucis-IIb WVR Deluxe Endo Steel
Powerplant: VOX 330 XL
Cruising Speed: 64 kph
Maximum Speed: 96 kph (129 kph w/MASC)
Jump Jets: Northrup 1200
Jump Capacity: 180 meters
Armour: Kallon FWL Special Light Ferro-Fibrous
Armament:
1 Fusigon Smarttooth Snub-Nosed PPC
1 Magna Mk VI Extended Range Medium Laser
1 Holly Streak Streak SRM-6
Comm System: Garrett T11-B
T&T System: Sync Tracker (39-42071) with Targeting Computer
The Wolverine was long a standard BattleMech of the Marik-Stewart Commonwealth, and the Free Worlds League before them. During their time with the AMSC, Ariel piloted a Wolverine before its destruction in combat with Wolf forces. Arriving on Solaris Dispossessed, Ariel had to rely on their skills both to find a place and secure a BattleMech to compete in.
By a happy coincidence, the stable that they ended up signing with also had a Wolverine in its inventory. While they had never used this particular model, Ariel’s familiarity with the design proved to be an asset, allowing them to quickly master the new variant and prove their capabilities in the arena. They raked up a string of victories over their opponents, including a few that were piloting what would have been considered superior BattleMechs.
The ‘Mech’s true fame would come after Ariel’s first victory over a Wolf warrior; while their skill was key to the win, it was the symbolic value of the win that really caught audience attention. A former AMSC warrior piloting a ‘Mech long associated with the nation that also drew ire from Wolf warriors played well to those parts of the Solaris population who were not happy about the new order. Ariel in turn chose to roll with this, naming the Wolverine ‘Skinner’ as a deliberate insult. More recently, they have taken to painting at least part of it Marik purple when facing Clan opponents.
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Andre Darmont
Position/Rank: Sergeant
Affiliation/Unit: Federated Suns/Unknown Unit
Birth Year: 3105
Andre Darmont should, by all rights, be dead. Instead, he has become a part of an irregular unit that is currently operating independently within the Federated Suns against the occupying Draconis Combine forces. However, how he came to be there is a mystery, leaving several years of his life unaccounted for.
For the most part, Darmont’s life and career were not exceptional before that point. Born and raised during the years of the Pax Republica, he grew up in a working-class family in the Draconis March; close enough to the Combine border to be aware of the threat that the Dragon represented, but not so close that it was immediate. Despite this being an era of peace, he enlisted in the AFFS as many members of his family had done before him. The skills and tactical abilities he demonstrated during his training saw him win a place as a MechWarrior, despite the comparatively limited billets available in the military at the time. Behind the controls of a ‘Mech he showed a flair for strike and hit-and-run operations that would serve him well in the years to come.
His first assignment would be to the reconstituted Second Federated Suns Armoured Cavalry, assigned to the Draconis border. The unit would take part in several skirmishes in the Draconis Reach in which Andre would prove his capabilities and gain experience in actual combat. During one battle on Udibi, he was able to cut off the commanders of a Combine-backed mercenary unit, and force them to surrender. This move saw the Federated Suns solidify their hold on the world with minimal effort.
After the Second returned to friendly territory, Andre’s next few years of service would be relatively quiet. He had considered resigning rather than reenlisting at several points, but the Blackout changed everything. Faced with a new age of uncertainty, he chose to stay with the AFFS, feeling that there would be a need for MechWarriors sooner rather than later. His instincts proved to be correct, and he would soon become a part of the military’s hasty rebuilding and rearming, helping to train up the flood of new recruits and better integrate them into existing forces. This training and preparation would go on for the next half-decade, with Andre again choosing to extend his service.
Growing aggression from both the Draconis Combine and the Capellan Confederation, as well as the effective abandonment of much of the Republic, meant that those preparations would soon become a necessity. While the Federated Suns was still on the back foot at this point, it made its own efforts to secure parts of the former Republic. Andre took part in a number of raids and pacification efforts in Republic space during this time, seeing action against insurgents, mercenaries and even Capellan forces that were operating in the region. In many cases, he was also helping to give new recruits experience in field operations that they otherwise lacked, a worryingly common state of affairs across the AFFS.
Despite these preparations, nobody expected what would happen next. The Second Federated Suns Armoured Cavalry was a part of the force assembled by Caleb Davion on Palmyra as a part of his planned strike on the Draconis Combine. Instead, the force would be destroyed in a cleverly staged Combine assault, with a combination of aerospace strikes and then ground troops devastating the assembled troops. Andre was among those supposedly confirmed dead, as footage of his BattleMech being destroyed was among the materials recovered from the debacle.
Instead he would resurface in 3147 as a part of a small group operating on Combine-occupied worlds in the Federated Suns. While not identified with any one unit, these irregulars were sporting Federated Suns insignia and openly operating against the Combine occupational forces. However, this also left a gap where he had some four years unaccounted for, which included how he had survived his apparent death, how he had come to be a part of this command and where he had acquired a new BattleMech from.
OTL-8E3 Ostsol
Mass: 60 tons
Chassis: Kell/H
Powerplant: GM 300 XL
Cruising Speed: 54 kph (64 kph w/TSM)
Maximum Speed: 86 kph (96 kph w/TSM)
Jump Jets: None
Jump Capacity: None
Armour: StarGuard Ferro-Fibrous
Armament:
2 ExoStar Large X-Pulse Lasers
2 ExoStar Medium X-Pulse Lasers
2 Diverse Optics Extended Range Small Lasers
Comm System: Barrett 509p
T&T System: TRSS.2L3
For most of his career, Andre Darmont piloted an Argus. While not given to talking at length about the ‘Mech (or most things, for that matter), he clearly was skilled in employing its combination of mobility and firepower, and was adept at careful maneuvering to make the most of it while avoiding getting bogged down in standing firefights. His BattleMech was known to have been destroyed on Palmyra along with the rest of his unit, leading to him being listed among the dead.
When Andre returned, he was at the controls of a brand-new Ostsol. How he had come into the ‘Mech is unclear, but it was possibly salvaged from a Combine unit or even taken from captured supplies. While having the same mass and speed as his old Argus, the Ostsol proved to be quite change, given an entirely different loadout, focusing on lasers rather than ballistic weapons and missiles, as well as running considerably hotter. Despite this, Andre seemed to have few issues with the new BattleMech and quickly adapted to it.
These changes proved to be advantageous; its exclusive use of energy weapons has been well suited to the guerrilla campaign that Andre has found himself a part of. Likewise, he has learned to use its triple-strength myomers to give him a burst of speed to either outflank an enemy or alternatively to beat a hasty retreat once the group have achieved their objective.
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Guest character courtesy of Zogster
Steph Martini
Position/Rank: Lieutenant
Affiliation/Unit: Free Worlds League/Regulan Hussars
Birth Year: 3115
The scion of a wealthy Regulan family, Steph Martini was raised in the lap of luxury and wanted for little save for actual excitement. Bored with her life, she found that she was discontent with coasting as a socialite and was looking for direction by her early twenties. Seeking adventure, she chose to enlist with the Regulan Strategic Military Command. Her timing proved apt as she was caught up in both the expansion of the RSMC following the Blackout as well as an air of growing patriotism. Many saw this as a chance for Regulus to reclaim its destiny as the true heir to the Free Worlds League, with Steph being among them.
While her family’s wealth would have afforded her no small degree of advantage, Steph proved to be a capable MechWarrior on her own merits during her training. She showed a particular flair for melee combat during exercises, both in her execution of such attacks and her willingness to take risks in order to get the opportunity to do such. On graduation she was assigned to a spot in the Fourth Regulan Hussars, who were in the process of rebuilding and rearming against the possibility of future aggression.
That opportunity would come with the 3140 invasion of Aitutaki, with the unit returning to a world where they had been previously defeated. While she had not been a part of that attack, like the rest of the unit she was caught up in a strong desire to avenge their past on the new Free Worlds League. Instead the unit was severely damaged by the FWLM, with Steph very nearly being among the casualties. Forced to eject from her ‘Mech, she was able to escape along with the other survivors of the unit.
As the unit again rebuilt, Steph was assigned a Sarath as a replacement ‘Mech. While normally a sign of disfavor, she chose to roll with the blow and instead make the most of it. If anything, her patriotic fervor grew in the aftermath as she sought a chance to strike back at the reborn League and avenge the loss her unit had suffered. In 3146 her unit took part in operation TRIUMVIR, a plan intended to cripple the League. Eager for action, Steph would instead be frustrated as the Fourth bogged down on Kyeinnisan before eventually retreating with little to show for it.
She would not see action again until 3147 in the Regulan counterassault on Marik. If anything, Steph proved to be even more eager than before, both for the very real chance at decapitating the Spirit Cat forces and the symbolic value of attacking the world. This enthusiasm and her skill saw her score several kills in the push on the Winter Palace, taking every chance she could to strike down what she saw as Clan invaders. For Steph, this was her moment.
It was not to last. As the Spirit Cats counterattacked, she and the rest of the Fourth were pushed back, suffering heinous losses at the hands of the enraged Clanners. While at first she tried to resist their onslaught, Steph found that she was overwhelmed by the ferocity of the assault. After several days of running battles she was left ragged with a ‘Mech that was only half functional among the battered remnants of her unit. And as much as she wanted to continue the battle when the unit were offered the chance to withdraw, she also saw the reality of the situation. Swallowing her pride, she joined in the retreat, hoping for another chance.
With the Fourth once again rebuilding, they were not in any position to offer any resistance to the League’s invasion of Regulus. In the aftermath of their surrender, Steph was among those who were forcibly re-integrated into the FWLM and reassigned to the Lyran border. While she has so far been able to take out her frustrations in small-scale raiding, she remains a Regulan patriot. Recently she has come into contact with other former RSMC members who feel the same way, forming alliances among those who share her sentiments.
SRTH-OB Sarath Sharvara
Mass: 50 tons
Chassis: RI-17p Vijaya
Powerplant: Magna 250 XL
Cruising Speed: 54 kph (64 kph with TSM)
Maximum Speed: 86 kph (96 kph with TSM)
Jump Jets: None
Jump Capacity: None
Armour: Durallex Heavy
Armament:
1 FlameTech Inferno Plasma Rifle
2 Magna Mk VI Extended Range Medium Lasers
1 Magna Mk IV Extended Range Small Laser
4 FlameTech K-213 Extended Range Flamers
Comm System: Barret Party Line-200
T&T System: Wasat Argent with OmniLink
On her assignment to the Fourth Regulan Hussars, Steph’s first BattleMech was a Nightsky, which well suited her capabilities. Despite this match, the ‘Mech was destroyed on Aitutaki by FWLM forces. As a replacement, she was assigned a Sarath, an OmniMech usually seen as a sign of disfavor. Rather than protest this decision as many would have expected, she instead took an instant liking to its unusual form. Within short order, she had become quite adept at exploiting its abilities, and had demonstrated a marked preference for the B configuration with its talons.
While focusing on close combat, Steph will use its mobility to good effect, engaging in lateral shifts or sudden changes of direction to confuse an opponent. Likewise, she will take advantage of her OmniMech’s turret to hit enemies while on the move or surprise those who are trying to flank her. Wherever possible she will run the ‘Mech hot to activate her triple-strength myomers, both for the extra speed offered as well as increasing its physical attack capabilities. At her hands, Sharvana often takes on a bestial demeanor, making it a fearsome sight.
Her skills were proven on Marik where she was able to defeat several Spirit Cat ‘Mechs and vehicles through vicious close-quarters attacks. The unit’s defeat was no reflection on her skill; if anything, it is a testament to her capabilities that she was able to escape with a functioning ‘Mech at all. Since her reassignment, Steph has continued to use her Sarath, and shown the same degree of ferocity against Lyran opponents as she has in past to the League; a recent battle saw her eviscerate a Starslayer with a single swipe.
-
Renegades Chapter I: Outside, looking in
Origin Story
I was there for the first meeting of the Renegades. I suppose in many ways I should have foreseen how it would all end.
Irisz Mayari had put out feelers and pulled in her first picks; Kari Moreno, Isabella de Luca, Lanie King and Terry McKinnon. Those four had been easy enough to pull in. They were all friends, having met through the trade or past generations who were also in the trade; family alliances had always made for a big part of the industry, even if it was rarely acknowledged. Certainly there was an air of expectation among them, a feeling that this was something big. De Luca acknowledged as much with her joke that this was more than just another attempt to start a book club.
Conversely, Blackrock’s arrival did not sit well with them. Everybody in the room knew who she was and had likely used her services in past, but I don’t think anyone actually trusted her, especially not King. Magyari made her case for why she had bought Blackrock in, citing both her connections and influence, as well as the fact that she would have stumbled into this sooner or later anyway. While everyone agreed, I could see that they were not entirely happy with the deal.
Ryback’s arrival then threw them off even more. He outlined who he was and what he was doing (while still being vague about the specifics) and his involvement with all this. He also was very clear about what he wanted and was trying to do. Magyari then gave everyone the chance to back out. Nobody took the opportunity. The idea of a future ruled by the Falcons or Wolves clearly had their attention.
Having made his case, Ryback then introduced his own ally, Alexis Fairchild. That got people’s attention, one way or another. There was more than a little concern as to who she was and her connection to him, not the least of which was that it amounted to an outsider joining what was otherwise a circle of friends on the recommendation of another outsider. De Luca put it bluntly when she asked Fairchild what she would be bringing to the table beyond her looks.
(Looking back at it, I have to wonder if this is one of the reasons why Magyari wanted de Luca onboard. She speaks her mind, for good or for ill, and doesn’t hold back.)
To her credit, Fairchild was abundantly clear in her response, saying that she had spent the last five years fighting both cells of a terror network as well as the Wolf Empire. When King asked what sort of terrorists they were, Fairchild’s response was blunt. “Blakists.” That definitely got everyone’s attention. Blackrock certainly looked surprised at that revelation, and perhaps annoyed that somebody had managed to hide it from her. I admit that I didn’t see that coming either.
With introductions done, Magyari and Ryback moved to the next order of business: building their alliance. The pair of them called for nominations of other potential members of this group, as well as those allies that could be helpful in supporting their future plans. Magyari went first, nominating Viggo Ackestorm, one of the members of her unit. She cited his connection to anti-Clan groups in the Dominion as a clear asset to the group, and his dislike of the Clans in general as a reason to trust him.
Moreno spoke up next, suggesting her second in command, Damien Hawkins. She pointed out his financial and administrative skills, which could be useful to any future sharing of resources, moving of assets and so on. She also said that she knew his loyalty would be beyond reproach, giving the group another person they could trust.
Citing Hawkins, Magyari then suggested one of her own allies, Cameron Clarke. Both Ryback and Fairchild expressed concern at the idea of bringing a Clan warrior into the mix, but Magyari offered fair reasoning. First of all, he would only be an ally and not a member of the inner circle, and certainly not privy to what was going on, which did seem to ease their concerns. Secondly, she cited his own considerable network of information and willingness to deal in it as being a useful asset, as well as giving them a reliable supplier.
(Naturally this made me curious as to what Fairchild’s specific problem with the Clans was.)
This prompted de Luca to put forward her own nomination in the form of Leonid Stanislav. She pointed out that he was the commander of his own unit, which would give them another ally and a considerable expansion to the group’s numbers and reach. She added with a caveat that Stanislav needed to be a member of their inner circle, saying that he wouldn’t be happy with being on the outside. Ryback definitely needed to think it through before he offered his approval.
King spoke up next, suggesting Lana Kostov as an ally or possibly another inner circle member. She cited both Kostov’s commanding a long-lasted mercenary unit and her connections with former RAF members and familiarity with their operations and procedures as good reasons why, which both Magyari and Ryback approved of. Personally I suspected King wanted Kostov there to be another member of this group who would keep things above board and clean.
De Luca then added another suggestion; Taphault van Nurdlehammer, a member of her unit who possessed both considerable technical skills as well as good organizational ones. She threw out the idea of having him work with Hawkins to create a supply network across units to aid in the sharing of resources and the like. Moreno was completely on board with the idea.
Having remained largely silent until that point, Blackrock then put forward her own suggestion, Tony Jaros. This was not well received, with those present pointing out that he was a criminal, a thug, a former Capellan ally and anything but subtle. Blackrock agreed to all of these points, but then countered to point out that not only did Jaros have considerable contacts across the former Republic’s underworld, but that he also had a strong hatred of the Capellans. Surprisingly, Ryback agreed with her, something that nobody saw coming. I suspect that Blackrock was among them.
With that out of the way, McKinnon put forward his own suggestion, being Ronnie Raymond Jr. At that point, all Magyari could do was glare back at him. To his credit, McKinnon put up a good case, citing the degree that Raymond had changed over the last two years, and how he considered him to be a friend as well as a member of his unit. Ryback agreed, and Magyari had to concede the point, even if there was clearly some understandable reluctance on her part.
We were now in the first stages of building an army. I don’t think that anyone could have predicted where it would go from there.
-
Guest chapter by KayEmm
Bacon Plans
When Lanie King had suggested that she, Kari Moreno and Isabella de Luca should meet to quietly discuss a few things, she’d hoped for something discrete and low-key. Which made her wonder what had gone wrong as the three of them sat in the middle of Tharonjas’ in the middle of a busy lunchtime.
“So do I want bacon, bacon, bacon or bacon?” Isabella asked as she looked over the menu.
“I think the question is how do you want your bacon?” Kari replied, similarly deep in thought.
Lanie sighed and looked around again, taking in the ‘tiki party crashed into a Mesoamerican temple and exploded’ decor, before turning back to her menu. The problem wasn’t that this had happened, the problem was that this sort of thing always happened when Isabella was involved. It made her really wonder why Irisz had chosen to bring her onboard in the first case.
You know Irisz can trust her, Lanie reminded herself. And you know that you can trust her as well, despite how she may act. She shot a small smile at Isabella. “So what are you looking at?”
“I was thinking of Zin’rokk the Steak Destroyer,” Isabella offered. “A steak wrapped in bacon, wrapped in cheese, wrapped in bacon. It sounds fantastic.”
“Nice,” Kari smiled in approval.
“I can hear your arteries hardening,” Lanie added.
“I’m a mercenary MechWarrior,” Isabella shot back. “I chose a life where I got shot at for money. Death by bacon is one of the better ways to go in this line of work.”
She shook her head and picked up her own menu, pretending to study it. “So death by bacon aside, how do we feel about this?”
“Well the décor is a bit gaudy, but I do like the food,” Kari replied.
“I can’t tell if you’re being serious or stupid,” Isabella smirked. “Nice.”
“I meant about this whole… thing,” she continued. “Irisz putting together her own little army at the behest of some shady employer.”
“I can imagine you have some concerns,” Isabella admitted. “Given your family’s past with dubious employers.”
“That’s a fair way to put it,” Lanie sighed. “I trust Irisz, bit not him.”
“Which is fair,” Kari said. “He’s clearly running his own agenda that we’re not a part of, and chose Irisz to be a part of it. At the same time, he also allowed her to make a first pick of who would be in it, which tells me a lot.”
“How so?” she asked.
“Irisz has a reputation for being a straight shooter,” Kari explained. “So look at the people she chose to start with. You, me, Isabella, Terry McKinnon and Blackrock. Like her, we’re all on the ethical, honest side of the mercenary trade; fair dealings, being upfront, vetting our recruits to weed out the bad apples and so on.”
“Kari, that’s about the nicest thing anyone’s ever said about me,” Isabella smirked. “And that includes my two exes.”
“You have a point there. I mean, I’m happy with Terry McKinnon being a part of this,”
Lanie continued. “Like you said, he’s a good guy by the standards of our trade.”
“Yeah, he’s a good pick,” Isabella agreed. “Even if Irisz is a little biased there.”
“Are those two ever going to make it official?” Kari asked. “It’s been... a while.”
“Years,” Lanie nodded. “But I’d imagine that it gets complicated when you get to the issue of children and inheritance and all.”
“I suppose so,” Kari nodded. “Irisz has no children as yet and Terry isn’t heir to the Marauders.”
“But it’s a dangerous line of work and all,” Lanie replied. “Damien’s kids are a long way from inheriting command, and if anything happened to him would the unit then go to Terry?”
“Difficult,” Isabella noted. “Not that I’m privy to the McKinnon line of inheritance, but I can see the issue there.” She paused. “Still, the pair of them can’t keep putting it off forever. And I’m not just saying that because I know I’d be one of her first picks for bridesmaid and that Kari would be another.”
“You think?”
“Really, Kari,” Isabella rolled her eyes. “Though you’d be a super challenge as you’d need a dress that covers all your tats.”
“You’d think that Irisz would be all for it,” Lanie continued. “What with her father being MIA for... how long now?”
“Since just before Fortress Republic, which was...” Isabella paused. “Christ, how long ago?”
“Yeah,” Kari nodded. “That being said, did you see the look she gave Terry when he suggested bringing in Raymond?”
“Ooh, the one-eyed death stare,” Isabella put a hand over one eye, narrowing the other. “Sends shivers up my spine.”
“I’m sure he had a good reason,” Lanie considered. “He’s been in Terry’s lance for what, a year and a half now? Maybe he’s changed a lot since then.”
“It’s a long time in this line of work,” Kari agreed. “During that time he and Terry have had to work together and rely on each other on the battlefield. That can tell you a lot about a person.”
“True, true,” Isabella nodded. “For all we know, Raymond could have changed immensely since then.”
“Not having his mother looming over him would make a world of difference,” Lanie noted. “I don’t want to pass judgement, but after all I heard about Connie Raymond, I couldn’t help but feel a bit sorry for Ronnie.”
“Oh yeah, she was nuts,” Isabella agreed. “Like, wow, nuts.”
“Speaking of, how’s Jessie doing?” Kari asked.
“Well, she makes you seem like the most outward person in the universe, Kari,” Isabella shot back. “But seriously, that girl’s doing a lot better for herself now that she’s not in such a batcrap insane environment.”
“Which brings me back to Ronnie,” Lanie noted. “If Jessie can improve then so can he. And maybe that’s why Terry put him forward, a way to help him grow further.”
“Makes sense to me,” Kari nodded.
“Agreed. So then what do you think about Fairchild?" Lanie asked.
“I know what you think about her,” Isabella replied as she took a sip of her drink.
“What do you mean by that?”
“You were so obviously gawping at her,” Isabella explained.
“I was not.”
“You totally were,” Isabella continued. “What would your wife think?”
“I didn’t see the big deal,” Kari offered.
“Yeah, well you’re weird, Kari,” Isabella shot back. “No offence.”
Lanie took a deep breath before continuing, trying to figure ways to steer things back on-track. “I mean, what do you think about her as a member of this group? She was bought in by Ryback and we don’t exactly have a lot to go on.”
“Well, she hates Blakists and Clanners, so that’s a good start,” Isabella noted.
“I have to wonder about that,” Kari admitted. “I mean, as much as we like the idea that she’s been fighting secret Blakists, it does seem to be a bit of a reach. It’s been seventy years since the Jihad, after all.”
“I want to agree,” Lanie nodded. “And yet, we still don’t know who caused the Blackout.”
“Secret Blakists,” Isabella nodded. “Makes perfect sense.”
“She didn’t speak much, though,” Lanie continued. “Mostly she seemed to be sizing us all up, as if she was trying to figure out what was going on with us and what were our stakes in all this.”
“Or she could have just been feeling overwhelmed being a stranger in a room full of strangers,” Kari offered.
“Speaking from experience?” Isabella asked.
“A bit,” Kari admitted. “She’s quiet, she’s pretty intense and she uses her words carefully. I feel that she’s being honest with us though. I mean, really, what would she have to gain from coming to us with such a claim otherwise?”
“This is true,” Lanie nodded. “I suppose ‘fighting secret Blakists’ is a story that’s just so out there that it has to be true. You wouldn’t try to use it as a cover after all.”
“I just want to know what she’s bringing,” Kari continued. “Ryback trusts her and she’s clearly got battlefield experience, but I want to know more about her if I’m going to be working or fighting alongside her.”
“She supposedly commands her own small unit,” Isabella suggested. “I’ll lean on some of my people and see what they come up with.”
“Tell you what though,” Kari added, “even Blackrock seemed to be surprised to see her.”
“Ugh,” Lanie managed. “Speaking of people I have questions about.”
“Lanie King doesn’t like the stodgy infobroker with a questionable past,” Isabella laughed.
“In other breaking news, fire is hot.”
“I mean it, though,” Lanie explained. “Blackrock is not the most... forward of people. You know what I mean.”
“You don’t like her being here,” Kari noted.
“I do not,” Lanie nodded. “I’m not saying that she has her own agenda here, but at the same time, I just don’t like the idea of putting our trust in her.”
“Pfft, everyone in this group has their own agenda,” Isabella replied dismissively.
“Blackrock is just more open about it.”
“She knows things you don’t and wants you to know it,” Kari added.
Lanie sighed. “I just don’t trust her, that’s all,” she admitted. “I see the logic behind bringing her in for her resources and contacts and the like, but that doesn’t mean that I want to work with her any more than we have to.”
“Maybe that’s your job,” Kari offered. “You tell us when we’re doing the wrong thing.”
“Didn’t think of that,” Isabella admitted.
“I... I suppose so,” Lanie considered. “I’ve been trying to rescue the Tigers from the mistakes that my forebears made. I just don’t want to then charge straight back down that path.”
“Which means you’re going to have second thoughts about things that most of us would leap at,” Isabella said.
“And a voice of reason like that would definitely helped me,” Kari added with a warm smile. “So thank you.”
“Thanks,” Lanie sighed.
Isabella leaned back in her seat. “We can work with Blackrock, but don’t trust her one inch. And if she asks us for a favour or the like, then we sure as hell say no to her. Which you know I’ll have no problem with.”
“Speaking of the people who we don’t trust and don’t know about,” Kari continued.
“Ryback. He’s at least half of the reason why this group came together.”
“Obvious spy,” Lanie replied.
“Agreed there,” Isabella nodded. “He’s not even trying to hide it, which then makes me wonder why.”
“I was thinking about that as well,” Kari nodded. “I think he might be working for the Republic.”
“What makes you say that?” Lanie asked.
“It's...” she absent-mindedly drew a circle on the table with her finger. “It’s hard to say, really, but two things come to mind.”
“Shoot,” Isabella nodded.
“First, the timing is right,” she explained. “The walls have come down and everything is up in the air. If he is with the Republic, then this is the time for him to act.”
“This is true,” Lanie agreed.
“And who knows what’s been going on behind the walls for... however long it’s been,” Isabella continued. “He probably has plenty of reasons to be acting now of all times.”
“Which brings me to my second reason,” Kari continued. “Assume he was Republic and was stuck outside the walls for all these years. He’d have been living off whatever assets he could scrounge up or find, and that would include essentially hiring mercs to do his work for him.”
“Point two to Kari,” Isabella agreed.
“If he was LIC or whatever else, he wouldn’t need to be so obvious,” Lanie noted. “He could hide behind fronts or other assets and we'd never need to see him. But like this, at this time? He might be out of options.”
“Which makes me wonder what it took to get Irisz on board,” Kari continued. “She wouldn’t have gone into this lightly.”
“Well, between us...” Isabella leaned in. “Kari might know this but anyway here we go.”
Kari nodded as Lanie glanced between the pair of them. “What are you saying here?”
“Magyari’s unit worked for the Coalition during the Jihad,” Kari explained.
“And some of that is still kind of not in the unit’s records,” Isabella added. “Makes you wonder.”
“Oh, right,” Lanie noted. “I can see why you wouldn’t talk about that.”
“I didn’t want to make it awkward for you,” Kari admitted. “Given your family history and all.”
“It's fine,” Lanie nodded. “I understand fully.”
“So with that being said,” Isabella leaned back, resuming her more casual stance. “I’m not saying anything for certain, but maybe he knows something about what happened back then.”
“It would explain a lot.”
“Besides, it fits with Fairchild, who remember was his pick,” she continued. “After all, killing secret Blakists is what the Republic does.”
“At least he has nice hair,” Kari spoke up.
“Well that’s a weird thing for you to say,” Isabella shook her head. “Then again, it’s you, Kari. I should expect that.”
“It was just something I noticed, that’s all,” she shrugged. “Maybe it’s a point of vanity on his side, but he clearly looks after his hair.”
“I suppose it fits,” Isabella admitted. “Two gorgeous redheads means that our little conspiracy has a high standard for hair care. Three if you count the fake redhead.”
“You’re too kind,” Kari blushed a little.
“You gotta stop selling yourself so short, Kari,” Isabella nagged. “Seriously.”
“Changing the topic, I wonder what ‘Mech Alexis pilots,” Kari considered.
“No, good question,” Isabella nodded. “You can tell a lot about a person by their ‘Mech.”
“What do you mean?” Lanie asked.
“Well, look at Kari,” Isabella noted. “She pilots a Black Knight, which is famous for taking a lot of damage and keeping on going. And Kari, you decided to keep your family unit going after most people would have given up. Determination and not dying and all that.”
“You have me there,” Kari admitted, absent-mindedly rubbing the black sun tattoo on the back of her wrist.
“Now Lanie, you pilot a Cataphract,” Isabella continued. “It gets the job done and is reliable, if unexciting and far from flashy. Which is a good way to describe how you operate.”
“Thanks, I think,” Lanie managed. “So what does your Warhammer mean?”
“I pilot a heavy ‘Mech made in the Inner Sphere,” she shrugged. “Doesn’t work all the time.”
“So how about an Archer?” Kari continued.
“Hm...” Isabella smirked. “You’re reliable but not flashy. You do one thing but you do it well and you’ve been at it forever.”
“An entirely accurate description of Damien, my second,” Kari admitted.
“So what about a Phoenix Hawk?” Lanie continued. “Since Terry pilots one.”
“Flashy, maybe a bit show-offy, good at what you do, probably also stodgy as all hell,” Isabella laughed. “So a fair match for Terry.”
“There’s a P-Hawk pilot in the Suns who matches that description as well,” Kari added.
“See?” She laughed. “I’m always right.”
“What does Leonid pilot?” Kari asked. “Since you wanted him in the team and all.”
“Marauder,” she replied. “Which means that not only is he the boss, but he’s either a big hero or the obvious bad guy.”
“Does either fit?”
“Potentially both,” she shrugged.
“And you wanted him in this group,” Lanie noted.
“He’s a character,” Isabella admitted.
“Now I wonder what Ryback pilots,” Kari continued.
“You think he’s a MechWarrior?” Isabella asked.
“He clearly is,” Lanie nodded. “You can tell these things. He was a spook in a room full of MechWarriors, and yet fit in perfectly there. There was a certain ease and comfort to him while he was talking and interacting.”
“That’s because he’s a spy, Lanie,” Isabella noted.
“It felt... natural,” she countered. “Like he was this comfortable with us not because he was pulling some sort of act, but because he was among other MechWarriors. I’m not saying that it’s his primary focus or where he was trained first, but more that it’s a part of his life.”
“I spose that makes sense,” Isabella admitted. “What about Blackrock?”
“No idea,” Lanie shook her head. “If she is a MechWarrior she doesn’t let it show.”
“If she is one, she totally stole her ‘Mech,” Isabella added.
“Agreed there,” Kari nodded.
“You mentioned Leonid being either the hero or the villain,” Lanie interjected. “I don’t know him that well; we’ve really only interacted at that ‘friend of a friend’ level.”
“So you’re asking me to qualify my answer a bit,” Isabella continued.
“Thanks,” Lanie nodded.
“Well this is going to be a total shock coming from me,” Isabella chortled, “but he’s a real character.”
“I’d never have guessed,” Lanie dryly replied.
“I know, right?” Isabella laughed. “Okay, honestly, it’s as I pitched. His family unit and mine have history that goes back as far as the Arano civil war. The first Krymzon Guards and the first Hammers fought alongside each other”
“I sense a ‘but’ coming,” Kari continued.
Isabella took a deep breath, an uncharacteristic hesitation in her voice. “Our family history is… complicated. Call it decades of mutual favours owed and paid, deals done and whatever else. And no, before you ask, I couldn’t tell you where he’s from.” From her tone, it wasn’t clear if that was because of some pact between them, or simply because she didn’t know.
“But despite that you trust him,” Kari finished.
“With my life,” she nodded.
“So then what’s he like as a person?”
Isabella let out an exasperated sigh. “Loud. Boisterous. Speaks big. Acts tough. Maybe brags a bit too much. And then behind that, he’s as sharp as anything. If you buy into what he’s saying, then you’re basically letting him win.”
“I see what you mean about him being either the hero or the villain,” Lanie agreed. “But do you think he can work with our group beyond just you?”
“I think so,” Isabella managed. “And yes, before you ask, a part of the reason why I wanted him in on this was because I knew that it would be better to have him on the inside than out.”
“You sound a touch reluctant there,” Lanie observed.
“Our relationship is complicated,” Isabella admitted.
“All your relationships are complicated,” Kari noted. “That’s why you’ve been divorced twice.”
“Touché, Kari,” she managed. “But yes, I’d trust him with my life.”
“Which we need more of in this,” Lanie agreed. “Open honesty would be nice, but at the very least somebody who you know you can rely on is good.”
“It is an odd balance of things,” Lanie sighed. “Not optimal, but it will do.”
“I’ll take majority that we can trust,” Isabella finished. “So to summarise, Ryback is a spook and a MechWarrior, but he has nice hair. Blackrock shouldn’t be trusted at all but is still super useful. And Fairchild is super-intense, has been killing secret Blakists and has big boobs.”
Lanie sighed. “Thanks for that, Isabella.”
“Anytime,” she nodded. “So are we ordering or what?”
-
Meanwhile
The instant Alexis was back in her motel room, she audibly sighed, slumping against the closed door. So close, she considered, and yet so very far away. She felt like yelling out in frustration, or at the very least, kicking the rubbish bin across the room in a petty act of release. Instead, she stayed calm, measuring up her options, considering where to go from here. No matter which way I look at it, there is no good solution, she considered. Rather it's a matter of deciding what's the least worst option.
A knock at the door grabbed her attention, Alexis spinning around to peer through the tiny peep-hole at whatever might lie on the other side. What she saw was a tall, almost imposing man in a coat and dark glasses, one that she instantly recognised and knew well, but at the same time, was not going to trust until she was sure all was clear.
“Bad day on the moon?” a voice came from the other side. His voice, the one she knew so clearly.
The passphrase matched to the one she'd arranged in advance. All clear, I've come as you asked. Anything else and she would have been ready for trouble. As it was, this was one of the few people in the galaxy she could actually trust. Stepping back, Alexis opened the door and let him in.
Up close, there was no mistaking the man; short dark hair and a handsome face that had become prematurely lined and worn, clearly accustomed to a permanent scowl. Hands in his pockets at all times, save for the briefest moment to remove his glasses, showing the dark eyes beneath. "So how bad is it, Alexis?" He asked as soon as the door was shut.
This was Nate, her second in command, confident and more than a few other things, and one of the few that she knew she could trust completely. "Well," she offered, “Ryback’s leaning entirely on his allies, which include a dubious broker and a Sea Fox merchant.” There was a clear hint of anger in her voice at that last part. “And his plan amounts to ‘run from the future’.”
“And here’s the ‘but’ coming,” Nate simply stated, his voice calm.
“But he’s right,” she admitted, slumping as she did. “He’s planning for what happens next, and he needs these people to do it. And that’s what we signed on for.”
Nate nodded. “Because he gave us what we needed.”
“He did,” she admitted. “Which allowed us to be here and not still toiling away for the Fat Man, or...”
"It's a poser," Note nodded. "Damned if we do, damned if we don't.”
"I know," she sighed, "But I don't want this to be like Estrella Mortis, where I made what I thought was the right decisions for all the wrong reasons, and ended up doing exactly what he wanted." She looked Nate in the eye. "I want to do this for us, Nate. Not him."
Exasperated, she turned around, trying not to let the conflict show on her face. Instead, she felt Nate's hands on her shoulders. Cold, dead and artificial, they should have been disquieting at least. Instead, she found them warm and supportive, as she had so many times in past.
"I know you made the right decision, Alexis," he simply finished. "And I will support you, no matter what happens."
-
From the personal journal of Gillian Blackrock
I should have seen some of this coming. Ryback had been on my radar for some time now, and I had my suspicions about him that did eventually prove to be correct. That being said, I had never been able to pull everything together into one nice, neat package before now.
Even then, I did not see this next step coming. While I know that he had been working with various mercenaries, clearly using them for his own ends, I had not expected him to do something so big as to build an alliance. However, in a strange way, his choice of ally plays well to my own needs.
Irisz Magyari’s men have used my services in past, which has in turn allowed me to gather intel on them. This relationship reached its peak with the Hindmarsh incident. Both Magyari and I had reasons to want Stein’s little plan to come to an end, and so we supported each other to those ends. I provided her with the information she needed to bring down Stein’s forces, and she in turn opened the way for me to take care of him personally. We have a good working relationship; her unit provides me with work and I in turn harvest information, one way or another.
When Magyari invited me to a meeting, I assumed that she was looking for information regarding a forthcoming contract or threat. What I didn’t expect was to walk in on several of her mercenary allies, nor did I expect Ryback to be there. His presence put me in an uncomfortable situation, one that I was not ready for, which is rare enough in and of itself. It was one where I genuinely had no control over the situation and did not know what to expect.
But yet, as the situation unfolded, I could see this turn into an opportunity. This alliance represents the chance to expand my network of allies, proving them with what they need while also gaining what I want from them. I have no illusion that both Ryback and Magyari are fully aware of my, shall I say, less than fully honourable intent and, as such, are going to be careful to limit how much access they give me. This is a limitation I understand and can live with, but at the same time, I know they brought me in for a reason.
Of course, I also have to now wonder how much Ryback knows about my past. While I don’t expect it to be too much of an issue (unless Jacob Bannson suddenly comes back from wherever he’s been hiding for the last decade and a half) I also feel the need for caution around him no less.
The other reactions were as I expected. McKinnon and de Luca were accepting of my presence, even with some apprehension on the former’s part, given that both have used my services in past. King clearly did not like my being there, a bias clearly born of her own desire to keep a clean nose while avoiding the mistakes that her forbears made.
On the other hand, Fairchild annoys me. I know nothing at all about her or her unit, nor do I know the exact nature of her connection to Ryback. The few things she spilled about her past were intriguing in and of themselves, almost as if they were being used as bait. I want to find out more, but at the same time, I’m concerned that doing such might draw unwanted attention from Ryback or whatever assets she might have in play. And being honest here, anyone who goes around hunting secret Blakists clearly has to have some way of locating their hidden prey.
Each of the members of this little group put forward their own suggestions for allies. I’ll have to look into each of them, but I feel that there are a lot of interesting leads in among them, although again I will need to be careful around looking into Cameron Clarke. In his case, the term ‘shark’ is more than just a reference to his Clan’s old name.
Finally, there is the matter of Tony Jaros. I was legitimate in my claim that he could be useful to the group as a whole, but at the same time, having somebody who is loyal to me personally rather than the group as a whole could be very useful. I don’t expect the others to trust him at all, but I do expect that they will find uses for him.
All in all, this is going to be a very interesting and rewarding experience.
-
Audio Log File #76701-Rho
Irisz Magyari: Well, say it.
Terry McKinnon: Say what?
Magyari: We’ve been together for six or so years now and known each other longer than that. I can tell you want to say something.
McKinnon: Me? What would I have to say about your insane plan?
Magyari: Aha, I knew it.
McKinnon: Let’s see, at the behest of a spook who works for a doomed cause you built an alliance consisting of your boyfriend, your three best friends and an infobroker who nobody trusts or even vaguely likes.
Magyari: Well when you put it like that, it sounds like there’s something about it that bothers you.
McKinnon: Why would you ever think that?
Magyari: [laughs] See, there’s the man I love speaking.
McKinnon: Okay, you have me there.
Magyari: And I appreciate the candor.
McKinnon: I would be lying if I said that I didn’t have my reservations about all of this. But at the same time, I see your reasoning here and why you chose to do what you did. If I was in your place, I probably would have done the same thing as well.
Magyari: We live in uncertain times. I want to be ready for what comes next.
McKinnon: I’ll say now that I kind of knew about Ryback, but I still didn’t know exactly what he was up to.
Magyari: Dare I ask?
McKinnon: Hoo boy, where to start.
Magyari: Try me.
McKinnon: My family’s unit has some suspect holes in its history that I haven’t been made privilege to so far. Perils of being a love-child and all that. But they involve ComStar, so I figure it’s a fair bet that the Republic knows what they are anyway.
Magyari: So you think Damien knows what happened there?
McKinnon: Maybe. Or maybe he’s just in the dark as I am, but won’t admit it. Either way, the family line of mercenary McKinnons goes back to the First Succession War, so there’s bound to be a pile of skeletons in the closet. And I’m far from the first bastard in the line. And a guy like Ryback circling around that is to be expected.
Magyari: Better him then Blackrock, I suppose.
McKinnon: Oh yeah. I mean, I don’t like her, but I understand why you bought her in.
Magyari: Speaking of…
McKinnon: Yeah, I figured you’d be annoyed about me bringing in Ronnie. I had reasons, trust me.
Magyari: Go on.
McKinnon: He’s been my second for two years now. In that time he’s matured and grown a lot as a person. Trust me, he’s not the man you knew before.
Magyari: In short, you want to give him a chance.
McKinnon: And I think you should too. After all, you gave Jessie a shot and that worked out for both of you.
Magyari: Different circumstances and you know it. Jessie made her own choice to leave. Ronnie had to wait until his mother’s insanity up and slapped him in the face.
McKinnon: And trust me, he regrets it.
Magyari: Fair. Consider my own personal biases being at play here.
McKinnon: Entirely fair and understandable. I was born in the Combine, after all. That sort of thing is baked into the culture.
Magyari: [laughs] And yet you still haven’t committed ritual suicide even once in your life. You’re the worst Combine citizen ever.
McKinnon: I’ll try harder next time.
Magyari: Fair. But for now, no more business. This is supposed to be a dinner date, after all.
McKinnon: Are you attempting to be romantic or simply dodging the issue?
Magyari: Why not both?
-
From the personal journal of Irisz Magyari
Somebody once told me that the only way to truly know somebody is to fight them. So in order to get to know my newfound legion of renegades, I thought I’d do the next best thing.
The truth is, I don’t know what lot of them are capable of at all. Sure, I know them as friends, or allies and fellow mercenaries, but I haven’t seen a lot of them in action in the field. This is especially true in two cases. Blackrock had only just outed herself as a trained MechWarrior, something that I had no idea about at all, and so I wanted to see what she was capable of. And Fairchild is a complete mystery to me. She’s not been abundantly forthcoming about her past, but then again, Rybak hasn’t exactly been willing to volunteer information about her otherwise.
So I decided to get a slightly more hands-on approach to measuring their skills. You can read all the reports and summaries that you can, but nothing compares to actual battlefield experience for seeing what somebody is truly capable of. With that in mind, I set up a simulator battle with twelve of us acting as a makeshift company. This was both aimed at seeing what each of us could do as well as seeing how we’d gel as a group if needs be. After all, most of us haven’t ever fought alongside each other before.
The OpFor I created was based on Lucius Radick’s Binary that we faced on Keystone and Ashburton. I chose it both because I felt it would provide a challenge, as well as because I figured we might as well practice fighting the Wolves as I suspect that will be happening a lot in our future. This provided me with my first surprise; Fairchild also recognised the force we were up against. Of course, now I need to figure out how.
It went well for us. We won the day, with the Wolf force retreating after half their force were crippled or destroyed. And while we’d had our own losses, if the battle had persisted it would have likely continued to favour us as we had the advantage of numbers. With that being said, there was more than a little bit of luck on our side. In the first exchange of fire, Kari managed to effectively knock ‘Lucius’ out of the battle when she destroyed the Warwolf’s gauss rifle, leaving their leader without his biggest weapon. There were a few other cases of fluke hits that favoured us, something I’d be reluctant to rely on.
So for the sake of completion, here’s my thoughts on how everyone did. I’m just going down the list of how they were ordered in my ad-hoc company here; no favouritism involved.
Me: Well, it’s me. I know how I perform. I used this battle as a trial run for a new loadout for my Mad Cat Mk IV that did pretty well for me on the battlefield. While yes, I took a lot of damage, I also managed to give back far better than I got.
Alexis Fairchild: The biggest unknown in the battle, I put her in my lance as much for complementary BattleMech abilities as to see what she was capable of. The result? I could best describe her as being relentless. She poured fire on her opponents, and didn’t stop until they were wreckage. And while she took plenty of it in return, that didn’t seem to bother her. While her Mad Cat was operational at the end of the battle, it also was badly damaged. Oh, and it jumps. Didn’t see that coming.
Kari Moreno: Clantech energy weapons and a targeting computer are a powerful combination, but Kari is also clearly a skilled marksman in her own right. She laid down a constant barrage of accurate long-range fire at the enemy that whittled them down while seemingly shrugging off whatever she took in return. At the end of the day her Black Knight was badly battered, but was still moving under its own power. I gather that happens to her a lot.
Damien Hawkins: Kari’s second was largely unknown to me; I’d only met him in passing previously. I could best describe Damien’s performance as ‘workmanlike’; a constant barrage of LRMs that relentlessly hammered his targets. While he often focused fire with Kari, he also lay down some very accurate indirect fire that doubtless surprised the enemy. He spent much of the battle in in formation with her, both covering her rear while supporting her attack, something that is apparently SOP for the pair of them.
Lana Kotovski: Lana clearly knew how to pick her fights. Piloting the heaviest ‘Mech on the field, she drew a lot of fire. However, for the most part, she rolled with it, using cover and careful bracket fire to manage her heat and keep going despite all that was thrown at her. She also kept a cool head throughout, even though her ‘Mech suffered several headshots during the battle. Her performance may not have been as spectacular as some, but she also walked away with more of a ‘Mech than a few others.
Isabella de Luca: This simulator battle was a terrible assessment of her skills. Rather than fighting like she realistically would, Isabella chose to deliberately glory-hog and make herself a target so she could score more ‘points’. So when her Warhammer was destroyed, I really wasn’t that surprised. On the other hand, she did a great job of distracting the enemy, so I should give her that, I guess.
Leonid Stanislav: I had no idea what to expect from Leonid, but even then he managed to surprise me. Early in the battle he managed to breach the reactor shielding on an otherwise fresh Lobo with a sliver from his Silver Bullet Gauss. This would set the standard for the rest of the engagement; him standing back, quietly laying down an accurate barrage of murderous long-range fire that seemed to have an uncanny ability to find the weak spots on enemy ‘Mechs. When I asked him about it after the battle he simply laughed it off.
Lanie King: I feel a bit bad for Lanie. Her performance wasn’t bad, just very mediocre compared to everyone else. She did a great job of flanking the enemy, easily cutting through the broken terrain on their side before coming in while they were distracted. And her plasma fire did a great job of worrying an enemy force that were carefully juggling their heat. However, she also was disabled once the enemy got tired of her antics and chose to deal with the annoyance.
Terry McKinnon: Terry decided that he was going to be the world’s most annoying thing. He used his Phoenix Hawk’s jump jets to get into the rear of their formation and break it up early on, causing the OpFor’s advance to fragment as a number of them decided to chase him instead of deal with the threat in front of them. He didn’t do much actual damage, but at the same time was key to our winning the day.
Viggo Ackerstrom: One of my own, so I expected how he would perform. He didn’t disappoint either, helping to support King in her flanking attack and engaging in mobile harassment of the enemy. His golden moment came when he managed to shiv a Blood Reaper that she’d already overheated, cracking open its shielding and forcing a shutdown. Unfortunately, he didn’t last too much longer than King once the Wolves got sick of him.
Ronnie Raymond Jr.: Handing out a ‘most improved’ award almost seems childish, but I feel that Ronnie deserved it. The last two years he’s spent under Terry’s guidance have clearly done him a lot of good in terms of both his piloting skills and his approach. Moving with Lanie and Viggo, he helped them flank the enemy while making sensible use of his Griffin’s mobility and cover. Several Wolf ‘Mechs ended up with backs full of SRMs thanks to him, but he also was careful not to push his luck; when his partners went down, he pulled back and regrouped. And while his ‘Mech was badly damaged, it also was still operational at the end of the battle.
Gillian Blackrock: Early in the battle her Havoc suffered severe reactor shielding damage, forcing her to withdraw. And that’s about it, really. She didn’t contribute much to the battle, so it’s really hard to get a measure on her skill. And while she’d readily admitted that she wasn’t an experienced MechWarrior, I feel like I still expected more from her.
So there you have it. I got a fair assessment of everyone except Isabella and Blackrock. In the former case, I know she can do better, both from first-hand experience and the simple fact that she’s still alive. In the latter, I have to wonder if she was as bad as claimed, was under-representing her abilities or was just unlucky. On a similar note, I’m not sure how I feel about Leonid; were all those hits of his just flukes or are his marksman skills really that good?
I want to do some more cross-training to see how our various units perform, but I also don’t want to push things too far too fast. Regardless, this was a very interesting introduction.
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Pirates Raid Obrenovac
Dateline Obrenovac, INN
Many assumed that the return of Obrenovac to the Magistracy's control after decades of independence would bring peace and stability to the world. In this last month, those assumptions were proven to be dangerously wrong.
The world was targeted by a pirate band identifying themselves as the Steel Tygers. After a daring landing on the 3rd of June, the attackers quickly disembarked from their ships to strike at their objectives. Based on their movements, Planetary Guard Colonel Zlato Hirstov deduced that they were likely headed for Split, a frequent target of prior pirate attacks, and moved his forces to intercept.
Unfortunately for Colonel Hirstov, this proved to be a feint on the part of the Steel Tygers. The band instead bypassed the guard and hit a number of targets in the Sarajevo district. Over the course of their five-day rampage, the Tygers stole vital water purification equipment, mining equipment, processed ore, food and other goods. They then moved to occupy the resort town of Tirana, using the population as human shields while engaging in a looting spree.
While aware of the situation, Hirstov’s ability to respond to the crisis was hampered by the Planetary Guard’s lack of mobility, preventing the rapid redeployment of forces. While several small skirmishes did occur between guard scouts and the attackers, the Steel Tygers were able to retreat off-world without significant losses.
“While regrettable, we must face certain realities,” Colonel Hirstov said in a prepared statement. “The Tygers have proven to be more adaptable than expected, and our own ability to respond is limited by the resources that we have at hand. Their escape is not due to any fault on the part of my men, but rather the lack of mobility that has handicapped our forces for years, a fact that our leaders have been aware of, but refused to address.”
“When we signed away our freedom to the Canopians, we expected to get something in return,” said parliamentary opposition leader Edvard Zock. “They were supposed to protect us from precisely this sort of thing happening. Instead we gave up our independence and got nothing in return.”
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From the personal journal of Zaki Toto
Back in the Periphery. I started here, but I’m still not sure how I feel about coming back here after all these years. I really don’t like the reasons why we’re here either. Even without Connie Raymond, our reputation is toxic thanks to her.
I just got the final handover with the employer. These colonists are genuine and certainly mean well enough, and who knows; they might actually be able to make it. Even if they did have to dig deep into their reserves to pay us.
The contract was simple enough. MMM (EDITOR’S NOTE: Majesty Metals and Manufacturing) had jumped their claim and driven them off a very promising site, taking it for their own. The colonists naturally wanted it back as they’d already put a lot of work and their own money into it, which is where we came in. And to be honest, I thought that it would be a good way to test the Bushrangers on a live opponent.
Fortunately, MMM hadn’t hired any mercs of their own to bolster their defences. A lance of Quasits supported by light armour and some infantry wasn’t going to match up to a lance of real ‘Mechs, let alone my mixed company. After taking several losses for no gain, the MMM force quickly decided that they weren’t getting paid enough for this and chose to abandon the site. Their commander negotiated a surrender by communicator and we let them go.
Even allowing for the quality of the opponents we were facing, I feel that the Bushrangers did well. We were coordinated and effective, picking out priority targets and quickly eliminating them with focused fire. No glory hounding, no stepping on each other’s toes or anything like that. Plus I don’t think any of those guys were ready to face Battle Armour; they’re still rare enough out here, which should work well for us. It definitely helps that most of the unit have been working together for years before now. This was our first real outing as a force in this new name and form, and it was definitely successful.
In many ways this contract also dispelled some of my lingering fears. I picked what would become the Bushrangers out of the wreckage of the Roughnecks, taking most of the survivors with me. I wanted to be sure that there would be no lingering loyalty left to Connie Raymond, which was why I left both Big Ron and Ronnie behind. At the time I was surprised when nobody disagreed with me on that call, but the more I think about it, the more sense it made that everyone would be with me. When I look back at it, I can’t help but feel a little blind to just how insane that witch was. Or maybe she just hid it well.
(That being said, it’s been a year and I still don’t know who the father of Gonzalez’s kid is. She won’t say, and I’m worried that my best guess will turn out to be right. In which case, this could all bite me in the arse).
We’ll take a look at how the final balance of things come out, but I think that we could even have an eye to expansion in future. The local market is one where there’s plenty to pick from but the real issue is finding the actual quality hires in among the rest of the mess. The other big issue will be transport, of course; out here it’s even harder to find a ship, which is kind of ironic given that I offloaded one of the ones I inherited. On the other hand, I feel bad for whoever bought that rustbucket, so maybe it all works out.
Regardless, the Bushrangers are back in business. It feels good.
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After Action Report: St Robert
To: Tai-sa Godo Suzuhara, 651st New Samarkand Tank Regiment
From: Tai-i Chester Wilton
Subject: Supply Depot A371 Raid
Tai-sa,
As requested, here is my summary of the 16th July raid on Supply Depot A371. I will attempt to describe the events as best I can.
First movement was detected at 0432 hours with the tripping of a perimeter alarm. The attackers had apparently used the Danforth River to shield their movements and avoid most of our sensor network. The spearhead of the assault consisted of a single lance of BattleMechs, a Black Knight, Ostsol, Sun Cobra and a fourth design that we were not able to positively identify. These were supported by a squad of Sea Fox battle Armour, further supporting my theory on their approach.
The attackers wasted no time in closing with the supply depot, doing their best to use the facility itself as cover. While I rallied my men to defend it, I was reluctant to engage as the enemy BattleMechs had taken to shielding themselves with the supplies; as such, I was concerned that not only would a stray shot rob the Dragon’s arm of valuable material, but there was also the risk of triggering an explosion with catastrophic results.
Conversely, the enemy had no such concerns and used their weapons freely to push back against my unit. None the less, they employed precise fire, disabling or eliminating a number of vehicles including my Bulldog. Their initial tactic proved to be more of a delay than anything else, as they were soon joined by conventional hover units, Battle Armour and infantry who assisted them in forcing my unit back. Despite their valiant efforts, especially that of gunsho Kim Hyuang who attempted to ram one of the BattleMechs with their Scimitar Mk II hovertank, we were forced to retreat.
As soon as the attackers had secured the site, they began loading our supplies into a series of hover transports. This was no indiscriminate looting, however; rather they were deliberately targeting certain items. Once they had loaded as much as they could, the enemy put what was left to the torch and retreated.
While I had opportunities to observe them, I regret that I was unable to identify the unit that these raiders had come from. They all wore standard camouflage and carried no markings save for the hated sword and sunburst of the Federated Suns.
In my actions, I have failed you, the regiment and the Dragon. I await your orders and an opportunity to atone for my failures.
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Guest character by Zogster
Wynter DeVires
Position/Rank: Kommandant
Affiliation/Unit: Lyran Commonwealth/Twenty-sixth Arcturan Guards
Birth Year: 3108
The DeVires family had long held a position of rank and power in Arcturan society; even as the world’s population and significance had dwindled over time, the simple prestige of a noble family hailing from the Lyran Commonwealth’s original capitol had given them considerable influence. Members of the family had served with the Lyran Commonwealth Armed Forces across centuries of conflict, usually serving in command positions bought about through their standing. Many of their members had been a part of the Arcturan Guards due to the brigade’s long-standing connection to their homeworld.
Wynter DeVires was no exception to the family’s traditions. The oldest child of their line, it was expected that she would continue their history of service, an ideal that she gladly embraced. While her family’s standing within Lyran society would be enough to ensure her success, she proved to be a capable MechWarrior in her own right during her training at the Nagelring. At the same time, she also fully embraced the more social side of the academy’s culture, building her own network of allies and contacts.
Her first assignment would almost prove to be her last. Her heritage and connections saw her win a place as a junior officer within the Arcturan Guards, stationed on their homeworld. In 3128, she would be thrown into combat when the world was invaded by Clan Wolf. The invaders proved to be too much for the defenders, and Wynter was among those forced to retreat from the world. The loss of both her homeworld, as well as the seeming humiliation of being driven from the Commonwealth’s original capitol, caused her to develop a hatred of all things Clan.
In the aftermath of the defeat, Wynter was reassigned to a billet in the prestigious Twentieth Arcturan Guards on Tharkad. There she immersed herself in the more social side of the LCAF, building up a network of allies among Tharkan society. In among them, Wynter was able to find more than a few nobles and others of power or influence who also stung over the loss of Arcturus, and sought to reclaim the world. Her hatred of the Clans also won her some allies, including more than a few who were wary of the Lyran’s supposed allies, Clan Wolf-in-Exile. Many felt that the Exiles had too much independence, and that the state needed to reign them in.
Wynter would see action during the next decade as the Twentieth was sporadically rotated to the front lines, engaging in border skirmishes and raids against the Jade Falcons. In each case, she demonstrated her abilities, proving to be a capable officer in her own right rather than simply resting on her social standing to get by. However, she was caught short by Archon Melissa Steiner II’s alliance with the Wolf Clan, seeing such as being inviting disaster to the Commonwealth’s door. The successes of operation HAMMERFALL, as well as Arcturus being reclaimed by the Commonwealth did little to ease her concerns.
She would next see action following the Wolves’ betrayal, but not against them. Rather, her unit would face the Jade Falcons following their surge in the early 3140s, taking part in several clashes before withdrawing to Tharkad. Once there, the unit faced the unthinkable, a direct invasion of the capitol by the forces of two Clans. During the battle, Wynter acquitted herself well, scoring several kills against Clan Wolf forces before her own ‘Mech was disabled. At the end of the day, she was one of the few survivors of the Twentieth, and among those that were folded into the Twenty-sixth Arcturan Guards.
Since then she and the rest of her unit have been on station on the Clan frontier, trying to hold back the seeming inevitable tide of the Falcon forces. While she has seen plenty of action in her own regard, she has been pushing for the unit to take a more direct approach to dealing with the Clan ‘problem’. At the same time, she has shown increasing suspicion of the Exiles, despite the losses they have suffered, feeling that there is something amiss with their supposed allies.
DNF-3S Defiance Faust
Mass: 75 tons
Chassis: Defiant V Endo Steel
Powerplant: Edasich 300 Light Fusion Engine
Cruising Speed: 43 kph (54 kph with TSM)
Maximum Speed: 64 kph (86 kph with TSM)
Jump Jets: None
Jump Capacity: None
Armour: Durallex Heavy Standard
Armament:
2 Defiance 1001 Extended Range Particle Projector Cannons
1 Defiance Disintegrator LB 10-X
2 Diverse Optics Extended Range Medium Lasers
2 Diverse Optics Extended Range Small Lasers
1 Coventry 90mm SRM-6
1 Trellshire MiniGun
Comm System: Angst Discom
T&T System: Angst Accuracy
Following a protracted development process that fell afoul of politics and civil war, the Defiance emerged as a successful heavy BattleMech that would go on to become a signature of the Lyran Commonwealth. Inspired by the classic Warhammer, the ‘Mech boasts considerable firepower, although at the cost of an aggressive heat curve.
Wynter DeVires was assigned her current Defiance on her reassignment to the Twenty-sixth Arcturan Guards as a replacement for the BattleMech she lost on Tharkad. As befitting both her rank and social standing, she was given a high priority for a replacement, and received the ‘Mech virtually straight from the factory. Theoretically, it was assigned to her as a command platform that would allow her to stay alive in the thick of battle while commanding her forces.
Despite this intent, on the battlefield, Wynter takes a very aggressive approach, seeking to take the battle to the Commonwealth’s enemies. She pushes her ‘Mech hard, riding its heat curve and usually fighting with its triple-strength myomers active. While risky, especially for a ranking officer, so far this approach has been successful for her.
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Guest character by KayEmm
Kia Malthus
Position/Rank: Star Captain
Affiliation/Unit: Clan Jade Falcon/Delta Galaxy
Birth Year: 3118
Outwardly, Kia Malthus represents a stereotypical Clan Warrior. Her path was typical; decanted in 3118 to a trueborn sibko, she would be one of the few among them to reach full warrior status. During her training she displayed an exceptional ferocity by Falcon standards, not hesitating to put down any who she saw as a rival by any means needed. Even before her trials, she had faced her fellows in combat, and been responsible for the death of one of them in a duel.
Despite this front, she also developed an oddly close bond with Amera, one of her sibkin. The two were opposites in many ways; Kia being stronger and blunt, while she was small, fast and quick-witted. Outwardly, the pair had each other’s backs and would aid each other against their would-be rivals, ensuring each other’s success. They also would disappear for periods of time, slipping away from their Falconers and not letting anyone in on their secrets.
For Kia, these moments turned into a release valve. Though undiagnosed, she was in the early stages of severe depression. However, showing signs of such in front of her sibkin or trainers would be a weakness that could be used against her. Rather, she chose to hide this side of herself so that she could succeed. Amera was the only person who knew the full story, and acted as a comfort to her sibkin.
The pair of them graduated through their trials as Star Commanders, but would end up being assigned to different units. The early years of their service was in the reconstruction of the Falcons following the Rending, and then the surge into the Lyran Commonwealth. Both Kia and Amera would see actions on numerous worlds, facing opponents from both the LCAF and Clan Wolf-in-Exile. During this stage of her life, she used her aggression and drive as a focus, ensuring that her personal issues did not simply have the opportunity to arise. The peak of this drive came when Delta Galaxy invaded Tharkad; while ultimately unsuccessful in their conquest, Kia scored multiple kills against the Lyran defenders during the battle.
Any feeling of triumph that she might have gained from the battle was cut short with the news that Amera had been killed in action. While as a Clan warrior she was not supposed to mourn and instead celebrate her sibkin’s glory, internally Kia was devastated by what had happened. However, to show her feelings would be seen as a weakness, so instead she kept it buried and feigned the ardent drive shared by her fellows. So convincing was her performance that she was sponsored for a Bloodname, winning it through a series of decisive and one-sided clashes.
The combination of her Bloodname and a promotion ensured that Kia remained at the forefront of the Falcon drive into the Lyran Commonwealth. Her life is one of constant battle, a situation that any Clan warrior would normally revel in, but instead is slowly wearing her down. She maintains a front of the ferocious warrior that she is expected to be no less; if anything, she comes off as arrogant and bragging even by Clan standards, complete with an air of superiority that includes reveling in the failures of others. She has been a strong advocate for direct engagement with the Wolf Empire, even if it is impossible to tell from the outside if that is about her own desire for victory for her Clan, or finding some new enemy to deflect her own issues on to.
As an aside, or possibly even a way to distract herself from her own issues and to give herself a focus, Kia has developed an interest in swordsmanship, both in terms of swordfighting techniques as well as blacksmithing and related areas of forging and crafting a weapon.
Jade Phoenix The Sun Eater
Mass: 85 tons
Chassis: JF 8 Light Endo-Composite
Powerplant: General Systems 340 XL
Cruising Speed: 43 kph
Maximum Speed: 64 kph
Jump Jets: Grandthrust Mk 5 with Partial Wing
Jump Capacity: 150 meters
Armour: Compound JF Ferro-Fibrous
Armament:
2 Type DDS “Kingston” Extended Range Particle Projector Cannons
1 Type 0 Hyper-Velocity Assault Gun 30
Comm System: JF Integrated
T&T System: Goshawk E-Series
A new design, the Jade Phoenix is a more traditional OmniMech design, as opposed to the more radical Jade Falcon BattleMechs such as the Shrike. While heavily armoured, its most notable feature is its partial wing design that gives it exceptional mobility for its weight. Combined with its ample pod space, the Jade Phoenix is a potent weapon.
Kia Malthus initially piloted a Night Gyr, preferring the OmniMech’s primary configuration; in her hands, it was a lethal weapon, scoring numerous kills against Lyran and Wolf opponents. After her promotion, she was assigned a new Jade Phoenix, choosing the primary configuration for the similarity to her previous configuration. She chose to title the ‘Mech the Sun Eater, a deliberately overly dramatic name that suited her persona.
Typically, Kia will take full advantage of her ‘Mech’s superb mobility to outmaneuver and flank her opponents, be it to strike at a weakness in their forces or to isolate an opponent. This tactic has worked especially well against slower Lyran opponents, and has seen some success against Wolf opponents as well. However, where possible she will try to fight honourably; preferring one-on-one duels and choosing heavier opponents that are a better match for her own ‘Mech.
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Zeke Isaacs
Position/Rank: Captain
Affiliation/Unit: Mercenary/Stanislav’s Hammers
Birth Year: 3105 (presumed)
Like many of the members of Stanislav’s Hammers, Zeke Isaacs is an enigma. His origins are unknown, both in terms of his homeworld as well as his connection to the rest of the unit, or even where he trained as a MechWarrior. To make matters even more confusing, the one thing that has been discovered about his past has only raised more questions.
Zeke Isaacs has a distant relative; an officer in the DCMS’ Tenth Pesht Regulars. What makes this more confusing is that their last common ancestor is a mercenary warrior who served with the Draconis Combine during the Second Succession War. However, while a genetic link has been found between the two, that fails to explain the actual lineage connecting one to the other. While it does not seem that Zeke himself is aware of this link, it is also likely that he would not divulge any information about it even if he did. Rather, like the rest of his unit’s leadership, there seems to be an unspoken pledge never to explain their past.
One of the current generation of Stanislav’s Hammers, Zeke Isaacs was among those that were with the unit when it reemerged in the Periphery in 3132. At that point he was a junior officer that was noted for his consistent, if unspectacular performance, both as a member of staff and on the battlefield. While he had gained a degree of success in combat with Periphery pirates, militias and other local forces, at the time it was hard to say if that was due to his own abilities or the simple lack of technology and organization often found among his opponents.
When the Hammers relocated to Galatea in 3137 he demonstrated that his victories were legitimately earned as the unit faced off with better equipped and trained opponents. Zeke proved that he was a capable commander in his own right, performing well against the opponents the Hammers faced in the former Republic and other growing conflicts of the time. In 3140 he was promoted to second in command of the unit after the death of his predecessor in combat, a position that he has held since. With the expansion of the Hammers in recent years, including the recruitment of new members who have no connection to the unit’s hidden past, Zeke Isaacs has become vital to the integration of those new recruits into their culture.
Compared to the oft bombastic and seemingly unpredictable Leonid Stanislav, Zeke Isaacs is far more levelheaded and calm, seeming to be the voice of reason compared to his commander. Zeke carries himself with a cool demeanor and measured patience that implies a more sophisticated background. However, as with Leonid’s own behavior, it is not clear how much of this is genuine and how much of it is an act that the pair of them have carefully practiced over the years to fool both enemies and potential employers (and, if such is the case, then why they do it).
Outside of his role as a battlefield commander, Zeke serves an administrative role within the unit, and has begun to take over responsibility for training of new recruits. This includes not only new hires, but also the children of existing members; a factor that is considered important given that the unit and its hereditary members cannot apparently return to their point of origin. As such, maintaining a continuity of culture and tradition is clearly important.
Despite clearly being in step with Leonid Stanislav, Zeke has made it clear that he does not like their ally, Isabella de Luca of the Krymzon Guard. While the relationship between the two units is a long-standing one, this is one case where he feels that they should not be bound by tradition or history. This is less about the alliance however and more that he simply does not like her as a person, probably due to her oft-grating personality. For the moment, however, he remains loyal to the Hammers as a whole and defers to Stanislav’s decisions on the matter.
TDR-10SE Thunderbolt Bad Day
Mass: 65 tons
Chassis: Earthworks TDR IIa Endo Steel
Powerplant: 260 Magna
Cruising Speed: 43 kph
Maximum Speed: 64 kph (86 kph w/MASC)
Jump Jets: Chilton 466
Jump Capacity: 120 meters
Armour: StarShield A
Armament:
1 Fusigon Longtooth Extended Range Particle Projector Cannon
3 Diverse optics Sunfire Extended Range Medium Lasers
1 Doombud LRM-10
Comm System: Neil 8000 w/Guardian ECM
T&T System: RCA Instatrac Mark X w/Targeting Computer
Compared to the still unknown origins of Stanislav’s Hammers, the Thunderbolt piloted by Zeke Isaacs has a known, if complicated origin. Built on Tikonov in the last days of the Civil War, it was pressed into service with the CCAF during the Jihad. The ‘Mech would survive that conflict before later falling in battle during the Victoria War. From there, it would pass through several further owners before being salvaged by the Hammers, and given to Isaacs as a part of his promotion.
Zeke quickly took a shine to the new BattleMech and has proven to be adept at its controls. Wherever possible he will take advantage of its surprising mobility for a heavy ‘Mech, such as jumping into an opponent’s flank. Likewise, he is not afraid to push its MASC system to gain an advantage or to throw off an opponent. So far, these tactics have worked well for him, both on his own and at the head of his lance.
For the moment, Zeke seems to be content with his BattleMech. While the Hammers have been able to acquire some newer or more advanced designs, he has shown no interest in upgrading from his Thunderbolt. He has nicknamed the ‘Mech Bad Day for some reason; while his reasoning might seem unclear, compared to the other mysteries circling around him and the rest of his unit, such an oddity is comparatively inconsequential.
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Ron McDougall
Position/Rank: Instructor
Affiliation/Unit: Galatean Defense League
Birth Year: 3090
Ron McDougall inherited the shattered remains of his family’s mercenary unit following the death of his father. Realising the realities of the situation, he formed an alliance with Connie Raymond that saw the merger of their two commands, culminating in their marriage and the birth of their son, Ronnie Raymond Jr. For the next two and a half decades, Ron would remain a loyal second to Raymond, never suspecting the depths of her obsessions or the lengths that she would eventually go to in order to settle a long-standing feud.
Their relationship fell apart during the battle of Hindmarsh. Realizing that the Roughnecks’ situation had become untenable, Ron ordered a withdrawal, only to have it countermanded by Connie Raymond. Ron was nearly killed when his tank was disabled on the battlefield, with only the timely intervention of his son saving his life. Ironically, Ronnie’s actions had come at the cost of his choosing to abandon his mother instead. Ron survived the battle, a fate not shared with much of the rest of the unit.
Following the effective destruction of Raymond’s Roughnecks, Ron McDougall was deliberately excluded from Zaki Toto’s reformation of the unit due to his past connections to its former leader. Fully accepting the decision and understanding the reasoning, Ron chose to retire from the mercenary life. This would not be a long break, however, as he was soon recruited by the Galatean Defense League to act as an instructor for teaching vehicle crews. While he enjoys this new job and has been quite successful at it, he also holds no illusions about ever returning to action.
Ron’s relationship with his son has strengthened somewhat since the destruction of the Roughnecks and the realization of Connie Raymond’s toxicity. At the same time, he has somewhat reconciled with Jessie Packard, his stepdaughter; while their relationship is still distant, it is far less strained then it was in past.
Banh Khanh Phi
Position/Rank: Sao-wei
Affiliation/Unit: Capellan Confederation/First Liao Guards
Birth Year: 3120
Born into a working-class family, Banh Khanh Phi joined the CCAF as a way to both serve his nation and improve his circumstances. His background made it easy to ‘lose’ him in the system, while his loyalty was quietly confirmed by the Maskirovka, making him a candidate for the Hidden Lion program. Training as a battle armour trooper, he showed a lot of promise both for his strength and skill, as well as his willingness to accept the risks involved with the role.
While not a part of the initial forces deployed during Operation GREAT FLOOD, he would instead be rotated into the First Liao Guards to make up losses as they stabilized the reclaimed worlds in the former Republic. During Operation CELESTIAL REWARD, he saw action against Federated Suns opponents on a number of worlds. His quick thinking saw him claim several victories against enemy armour and BattleMechs, even though he risked injury or even death along the way.
While a firm believer in the idea that the Confederation should conquer Terra and claim its destiny as the rightful leaders of all humanity, he has expressed reservations about the approach being taken towards that goal. Recently, he has become a vocal opponent of the Unity alliance with the Draconis Combine, feeling that the Confederation does not need their help while also expressing a strong distrust towards their own goals and motives.
While outwardly his loyalty to the Confederation would seem unquestioned, there are a few irregularities in his past that have so far gone seemingly unnoticed. While the most likely answer is that he is in fact a Maskirovka plant intended to keep an eye on the unit, there is also the possibility that he might be working for someone else.
Guest character by Zogster
Deep Zimmerman
Position/Rank: Adept
Affiliation/Unit: ComStar
Birth Year: 3105 (estimated)
Even as ComStar’s light rapidly fades, there are still those that remain loyal to the organization for whatever reason. Many do such because they have nothing else in their lives, while others hold out some hope that a miracle may yet occur that will see the restoration of the HPG network.
Deep Zimmerman seems to fall into none of these categories, despite his apparent background. Like many within the order, his family had served with ComStar for generations, and it was clear that he would follow in their footsteps. While technologically literate, his focus was more on business and administrative matters, which saw him take on an administrative role in one of the Order’s Lyran Commonwealth stations. Never overly ambitious or skilled, he quickly settled into a functional middle management role where his only notable achievement was helping with administrative matters that came from the Lyran Commonwealth’s 3137 bailout of the organization.
It is only at deeper analysis that a number of holes begin to appear in his story. Records about his past were purportedly lost as a result of collateral damage from a core meltdown during Grey Monday; an event that, while entirely plausible, is also very convenient. As a result, everything that is known about his background is, in fact, something that he has said himself and has to be taken at face value. As a result, Deep Zimmerman could very well be an agent for someone else and pushing some unknowable agenda. Or he could simply be exactly what he seems to be; a middling bureaucrat of no consequence.
-
Guest chapter by Zogster
Pilot Hit
The massive bay doors ground open, exposing the 'Mech bay to the elements beyond. A cold gust of wind blasted into the cavernous interior of Ur, the Star of Sumer’s Union-class DropShip. Almost immediately, the ponderous tread of BattleMechs rang out as a quartet of the massive creations thudded onboard.
Katarina Morrison impatiently pressed herself to the railing of an upper-level catwalk. They had just broken radio silence upon recovering their command lance, and she looked out to confirm what she had heard. There in the lead was Gilgamesh, the commander’s BattleMaster. Its canopy was frosted over from the howling blizzard outside, but that only served to throw the jagged hole at its centre into sharp relief.
“Archon’s beard,” she muttered to herself as her ward joined her.
“Is she…” began Jakub Day at her side, before nervously falling silent.
Katarina shook her head. “No. She’d have to be okay to pilot it in manually, but…” She laid a hand on the young man’s shoulder, before falling silent.
A piercing call of “Medic!” rang out over the hubbub of the ‘Mech bay. The BattleMaster had maneuvered into position, and was now slowly opening its shattered canopy. Katarina surged forward to assess what had happened.
Lana Kotovski sat in the cockpit, shivering despite the ‘Mech’s heated interior. Her face was ashen, but Katarina and Jakub found their eyes drawn to the jagged shard jutting out of her thigh. One of Lana’s hands fell from the controls to clutch at the wound, where her pilot suit was already stained red.
Katarina’s eyes darted from Lana’s face to her wound, silent for long seconds. It was all she could do to blurt out, “What happened?”
The younger woman smiled back at her, seemingly unconcerned by the injury. “We did good. Intercepted the enemy force and drove them back. Sealed the pass, too.” She nodded to Jakub as he joined Katarina at her side. “They’re going to have to loop around the long way. Should give the locals at least a day to evacuate.”
Jakub took her hand gently, as much for his own relief as hers, and softly said “You’re going to be okay.”
Before anyone could respond, there was a loud call of “Coming through!” The pair separated and let their diminutive doctor push past to see Lana. They stepped back onto the catwalk, joining the Star of Sumer’s chief technician by the BattleMaster’s shoulder.
“What happened?” Jakub asked, more than a note of fear in his voice.
“Autocannon shell burst against the cockpit,” he bluntly replied. “Canopy took the brunt of it, should have held.” He shook his head as assessed the damage.
“It’s not supposed to shatter like that,” Jakub stated.
The technician merely shrugged. “Could have been anything. Incomplete repair job, structural defect that went unnoticed…”
Or just that accursed ‘Mech, Katarina thought. Somehow, she imagined the others were echoing her sentiment.
At that point the unit’s chief medical officer stepped out of the cockpit. She wiped her hands on her pant legs, staining them red. “Well, there’s good news and bad news,” she started, looking over the small assembly before her. “Cockpit shard’s punctured through her femoral artery and nailed her right to the command couch. Where it is, it’s keeping her from bleeding out.”
“And that’s the bad news,” Katarina asked hopefully.
“No, that’s the good news. The actual bad news is that we can’t get her out of the ‘Mech without pulling it, and then we’ll lose her before we get her to the med bay.” She chewed on her bottom lip, the worry evident in her voice.
Katarina and Jakub looked at each other nervously. Both of them somehow knew this day would come, but at the same time they were desperately hoping not to see it. Katarina turned to the medic and asked “There must be something you can do.”
“Not in these cramped conditions,” she said. A quick glance up at the towering mechanic’s grim face confirmed her worst fears.
“Take out the command couch,” Jakub said suddenly, drawing everyone’s attention.
Katarina blinked at him in surprise, even as the idea germinated in her head. “Right.” She glanced up at the technician. “Disable the ejection system, remove the canopy and extract the command couch and… and carry her to the med bay on that!”
The technician pondered for an agonising second, before nodding. With a gesture he summoned a couple of assistants and got to work on the towering ‘Mech’s shattered canopy.
“You people are crazy,” the doctor said as they stepped away to let the others work. She turned away and started down a hall, bellowing out, “Clear the med bay!”
Jakub and Katarina stepped back, letting the professionals go to work. Once again, she laid a reassuring hand on the young man’s shoulder, telling him “She’s going to be okay.”
“I know, it’s just…” He halted, looking at the impassive form of the towering BattleMaster. Somewhat quietly, he finished by saying “I lost my dad in that ‘Mech.”
“Me too.” Katarina wrapped him up in a brief, if warm hug, before he went on his way. Lost to her own thoughts, she turned back to the ‘Mech, seemingly staring it down.
“She is the best thing that has happened to this unit,” Katarina said under her breath. “And you are not taking her away from us.”
-
Audio Log #76705-Rho
Terry McKinnon: Hey Ron. Good day out?
Ronnie Raymond: More or less. You know, stuff on my mind and all.
McKinnon: Something bothering you? And don’t pretend there isn’t; if one of my lance has something wrong, I should know about it before we get killed or whatever else.
Raymond: I wanted to thank you again for bringing me on with all this. It took a lot for you to trust me given my past and all.
McKinnon: You’ve earned it, Ron. The last two years you’ve shown me that you’re not only a good MechWarrior but that you’re actually a decent guy.
Raymond: You wouldn’t have said that if you’d known me before.
McKinnon: Hey, I was an obnoxious snot myself when I was younger, so it’s no big deal. We all make mistakes. Besides, I know what it’s like to have an awkward relationship with a half-sibling, so there’s that.
Raymond: Hey, Jessie and I kind of talk these days.
McKinnon: Which means you’ve got one up on me and Damien.
Raymond: Yeah, I guess.
McKinnon: It’s like I said; you’ve done well for yourself so far, and I wouldn’t have bought you in if I didn’t think you could handle it, or that you wouldn’t have anything to bring to the table.
Raymond: Still, I figure Irisz must have loved you over that call.
McKinnon: Let’s just say that I was sleeping on the couch that night and leave it at that. [Laughs]
Raymond: That good, huh?
McKinnon: I’m going to call it a calculated risk on my part and leave it at that.
Raymond: Speaking of, I think I have something that might be of interest to you and the group.
McKinnon: Oh? What’s that?
Raymond: Went to have lunch with dad earlier.
McKinnon: How’s he doing?
Raymond: The GDF gig’s keeping him very busy. His having four decades of experience in a tank has made him a hell of an instructor, which has gotten him a lot of work. And he mentioned something interesting that came up on the job.
McKinnon: So what did he find?
Raymond: It’s the Roughriders. They’ve gone.
McKinnon: Well they could have taken a contract or something.
Raymond: That’s the thing; if they did, they didn’t even tell anyone in the GDF about it. Instead they’ve up and vanished without saying where they were going, who had hired them or anything else. Dad said that they cleaned out a lot of their supply stores and reserves too, and were just leaving the Force with enough to keep operating for the moment.
McKinnon: So a top-tier merc unit up and vanishes while leaving the private army they’d built up behind.
Raymond: Yep. Told you it was interesting.
McKinnon: Thanks for that, Ronnie. I think that there are people who should know about this. [Pause] Oh, and can you do me a favour?
Raymond: What’s up?
McKinnon: Try talking to Jessie every now and then. Probably would do the pair of you a world of good.
-
Wanted: The Crow Brothers Gang
Greene, Timbuktu
Let it be known that the government of the Timbuktu Collective has placed a reward for the capture or deaths of the notorious Crow Brothers Gang. This band of pirates have been responsible for attacks throughout the Timbuktu Collective, and are guilty of Piracy, Murder, Assault, Theft, Destruction of Property, Kidnapping, Extortion, Arson and numerous other crimes.
The Crow Brothers are known to be armed and dangerous. The gang is in possession of at least one lance of BattleMechs, as well as at least a company of combat vehicles and two aerospace fighters. Furthermore, they are also known to use conscript infantry in their forces. The Crow Brothers possess at least one DropShip and have access to a JumpShip to enable their raids. At present, the Crow Brothers are believed to have a base of operations on Haggard, although this information is unverified and should be taken with some caution.
Bounties will be paid on confirmation of the destruction of the gang or the elimination of their ability to threaten other worlds. Proof of such destruction, including prisoners, bodies or battleROMs should be presented to the nearest convenient office of the Collective Armed Guards. Payment will be presented on verification of evidence.
Furthermore, individual bounties will be paid on the heads of the leaders of the Crow Brothers; Luke Crow, Jimmy Crow, Zebadiah Crow and Daisy Crow. These four are responsible for the gang’s operations and their elimination is considered to be a priority. All four of them are known to be MechWarriors and should be considered to be extremely dangerous.
-
Guest chapter by Zogster
From the personal journal of Lana Kotovski
When Lanie King approached me with her offer of alliance, I was somewhat dubious regarding the idea. While I do trust her and appreciate her honesty, and the idea of forming an alliance of friendly units had merit, it was the reasoning behind it that bothered me. Working at the behest of an intelligence agent, regardless of his origin, was still a questionable choice. And while I might still believe in the dream of the Republic, there are certain realities that one cannot ignore.
But despite these misgivings, this alliance might work. My first impressions are positive. I’ve seen the mercenary business from both sides, and know enough that not all units or their commanders are the upstanding examples we strive to be. That the people chosen all have positive reputations speak well of the intent behind this idea.
I had been looking into a pirate hunting contract on offer from the Timbuktu Collective. Specifically, they were looking to eliminate the Crow Brothers Gang, a particularly dangerous band that had been menacing their worlds (and the Rim Collection before that) for some years now. By all reports, they are brutal, ruthless and unforgiving, and have gone well beyond the bounds of desperation and necessity that often characterises such groups and are verging into actual cruelty. This I cannot ignore.
While the terms seemed good and I feel that the Star would be capable of handling the pirate force, I still had issues with the contract. The location given for the Crow Brothers was an abandoned system on the fringes of the Collective, but even then that was only a reported location without verification. What little details I could find on the world were desperately out of date. That could lead to months of searching to find their muster point, which in turn made me dubious as to the offer. As much of a threat as the Crow Brothers represented to the people they targeted, we could end up chasing shadows and accomplishing nothing.
I put this problem to Lanie, and she was understanding of my situation. Clearly she had also passed along my concerns, as I soon was contacted with a resolution to the matter. Antonin Ryback, the instigator of this alliance, provided me with a file loaded with information about the Crow Brothers; their history, their strengths, their tactics and so on. This alone was better than the information that the Collective had offered, but the real prize was in the detail. The file confirmed that they were indeed based on Haggard and came complete with a relatively recent dossier on the world, while also highlighting some likely locations for their base of operations. In short, it was everything I could have asked for.
I do have to wonder just how he came across all this, given just how poorly documented the region is. Certainly, given his past I have no reason to doubt the veracity of the information provided. I earnestly believe that he wants these marauders shut down before they can hurt anyone else. After careful consideration, I returned to the Collective to accept their contract. I even managed to work out a more favourable deal thanks to the intel I had in hand.
I suppose this will be the ultimate test of this alliance. Let us see how this works out.
-
Haggard
Star Type (Recharge Time): G2V (183 hours)
Position in system: 2 of 8
Time to Jump Point: 9.12 days
Number of Satellites: 2 (Cissor, de la Abbicia)
Surface Gravity: 1.01 g
Atmospheric Pressure: Standard (Breathable)
Equatorial Temperature: 41 C (Arid)
Surface Water: 43%
Highest Native Life: Insects
Recharge Point: None
HPG Class: None
Population: 1,024,000
Socio-Industrial Levels: F-D-C-F-D
Landmasses (Capitol City): Abbey, Co Carlow, Flan, Leinster
The first surveys of Haggard suggested that the world had very little to offer potential colonists. While it did have a breathable atmosphere, that was about the limit of its desirable traits. Nonetheless, the world would be settled and incorporated into the Rim Worlds Republic, managing to even survive the fall of that nation. And while it is no longer represented on most maps, the system is still inhabited by a tenacious lot who stubbornly cling to life.
Haggard II is an arid world, the result of several factors, not the least of which is a minimal axial tilt that results in very little seasonal variation. Its four major continents are separated by shallow, briny seas, while actual fresh surface water is quite rare. Much of the world’s land area is dominated by dry, semi-arid regions that are punctuated by jagged mountain ranges, a result of the world’s last major spike of geological activity.
The world’s native life proved to be just as unpleasant as its environment. Plant life was limited mostly to grasses and fungi, some of which could reach impressive proportions. The animal life, on the other hand, was chiefly dominated by all manner of insects. While much of that amounted to parallels to native Terran species, there also were a number of impressively sized, hard-shelled creatures filling the spaces in the ecosystems usually dominated by ‘higher’ lifeforms on both land and in the oceans.
As a result of this combination of traits, the Rim Worlds Republic were initially disinterested in Haggard. While the world was surveyed and catalogued, there was no real effort made to actually set up any sort of permanent colony for over a century. The planet had little to offer, and the expense of importing water and food was considered to be too great for such a little reward. There was some discussion of setting up a penal colony on the world, but little came of it. Nonetheless, there were persistent rumours of persons being ‘disappeared’ only to be dumped on the world.
No serious consideration was given to actual colonisation until the 27th century, when two different factors came together to make the world more attractive to the Rim Worlds Republic. The first was the development of advanced water purification technologies that would enable the world to support a more significant population. The second was the discovery of considerable reserves of rare radioactives in the central Flan continent, which the Republic was eager to exploit.
By the end of the century, the planet’s population was booming as the Republic set up mining colonies across its surface. These were further bolstered by waves of civilian settlers that were ‘encouraged’ to move to the planet to set up supporting industries, such as agriculture. However, much of the colonisation effort was underwritten by Republican mining companies that wanted to keep a stranglehold over the planet’s population and economy. Consequently, most of the industries set up were under their control, resulting in a company-store-based economy.
Mining efforts stepped up after the ascension of Stephan Amaris to the Rim Worlds presidency as the materials being extracted were used to help fuel his private armies. With little oversight and no real need to restrain themselves, the rampant mining operations on Flan contaminated much of the centre of the continent with toxic and even radioactive runoff. Likewise, working conditions deteriorated as miners were essentially forced into working in dangerous conditions to support both Amaris’ needs and their corporate overlords.
This approach would backfire following the Amaris coup and subsequent invasion of the Republic by Kerensky’s loyalists. The planetary garrison had been stripped of much of its manpower and equipment to support APOTHEOSIS and the related build-up, leaving behind only a skeletal force. When the first SLDF forces touched down on Haggard, Amaris loyalists within the garrison urged their massively outnumbered and outmatched forces to engage the invaders. Instead, those forces turned on their own leaders, quickly deposing the planetary government. In the end, most of the shots fired during the invasion were by the local forces at their own former leadership. When the SLDF entered the capitol city of Nenagh, they were greeted as saviours by the people.
The SLDF set up a provisional government with the aid of those factions that had supported them, but then largely left it to its own devices once they departed for the Hegemony. As the Rim Worlds Republic tore itself apart, that leadership did their best to try and hold the planet together, but suffered several setbacks. Key among them was that its economy had been set up to support mining companies that no longer existed through transport infrastructure that was no longer there. This lead to an economic meltdown, resulting in mass unemployment.
To make matters worse, the Lyran invasion of the Rim Worlds Republic served to further destabilise the region. While Haggard was not directly targeted, the LCAF still raided the world on several occasions, pillaging mineral reserves while further weakening the already struggling government. Left orphaned in the wake of the Rim Worlds collapse, it was all that Haggard’s leaders could do to try and simply keep their world alive. However, their problems were only just beginning.
Compared to many other worlds of the region, Haggard was more amenable to human life. Many of those other worlds sought ways to prevent their own demise, and that included turning on their fellows. Haggard would be raided several times by other former Rim Worlds powers, targeting their water purification technologies and food reserves. The anaemic planetary guard could do little to stop these attacks, serving to at best slow them down; rather the policy became to simply try and limit the damage.
Things would change in 2817 with the arrival of Manos Geredies, a mercenary leader who himself was of Rim Worlds descent. His unit had broken contract with the Lyran Commonwealth in the face of Combine forces, and were now on the run. Seeking a haven, Geredies dropped on Haggard with the remnants of his force, effortlessly steamrolling the planetary guard. Rather than simply taking what he wanted, he instead marched on the capitol and declared himself the Emperor of Haggard at gunpoint. The few who complained were quickly cut down by his BattleMechs.
Only two months later, a raiding force made landfall on Haggard. Rather than the weak defences they expected, they instead faced Geredies and his men, who shattered both their forces and their resolve in a single, bloody battle. Their raid quickly turned into a rout, with many of the raiders simply surrendering after their leaders were killed. Enraged at the idea that anyone else would try to intrude on his ‘empire’, Geredies rounded up those captives that he had taken and had them publicly executed.
As a ruler, he was an unrestrained tyrant, ruling through a combination of terror and brute force. Those that opposed him or spoke out in any way would usually be rounded up and subject to public execution. He gladly indulged in his own excesses, taking what he wanted from the planet and its people while rewarding his own henchmen. He turned the planet’s capitol building into a palace filled with his stolen riches, while also converting its stadium into a gladiatorial arena.
On the other side, his presence provided a degree of protection for the world. Those raiders who tried to strike the world faced stiff resistance from his forces; any survivors from such attacks would be rounded up and given the choice of execution or being press-ganged into his army. As his strength grew, he would even launch raids to other worlds for their resources, or out of retaliation.
His reign would come to a sudden end in 2856 when Geredies, who by that point had become morbidly obese, suffered a heart attack during his birthday banquet. With no clear successor, his henchmen began to fight among themselves for his throne. These powerplays quickly escalated into a full-blown civil war between the claimants, which achieved little but to deplete their forces. After two years, the largest of the factions seized control of their DropShips and simply fled the planet, their ultimate destination unknown. Those remaining continued to fight among themselves, with the conflict eventually burning out due to a simple lack of forces to fight with.
An uneasy peace resulted in the rise of a new planetary government in 2867, building itself from all the remaining factions. Their first task was to take stock of what they had to work with and what assets the world still possessed. The combination of neglect, raiding and the damage wrought by the civil war had damaged much of the world’s water purification capabilities, while the first census taken in decades revealed a substantial population decline. Efforts were taken to rationalise what was left and consolidate resources, a move aimed at preserving life as best as possible.
Ultimately, these moves would do little beyond postponing the inevitable. The last of the large-scale water purification facilities failed at the end of the century, a crisis that lead to the collapse of an ever increasingly weak and ineffectual government. As access to clean water dwindled, crops failed and mass starvation took hold over the world. The population collapsed within a generation, leaving little behind. A cursory ComStar survey in 2950 found empty cities and few signs of human activity, leading to their simply marking the world as ‘dead’ and removing it from maps.
Despite this, Haggard remains inhabited. A small population survives, having been mostly reduced to subsistence farming in isolated homesteads scattered across the more temperate regions of three of the world’s four continents. Very little in the way of actual government exists, although there are some regional councils made up of farmer groups that have come together for mutual protection and aid. Technology has regressed to pre-spaceflight levels, and is largely focused on keeping old machinery, chiefly localised water purification, operational.
The collapse of the planet’s population left its cities largely intact but abandoned as they were no longer viable. Occasionally groups of scavengers will move into them to pick over whatever might be left, but they also serve as havens for bandits and drifters. Conversely, much of Flan is no longer inhabitable, having been contaminated by the toxic and radioactive runoff from the mines.
-
Maskirovka Recording Log 67435-76
Sang-wei Jie-Le Feng: You requested to see me, Sang-shao?
Sang-shao Elliot Liao-Subramanya: Thank you for reporting so promptly, Sang-wei. Please be seated.
Feng: May I ask what this is about?
Liao-Subramanya: As you are doubtless aware, we are at a critical juncture for the future of the Confederation, and indeed the Inner Sphere as a whole. We are poised on the verge of Terra, and we are one of those units at the tip of that spear.
Feng: We stand ready to do enact the Chancellor’s will.
Liao-Subramanya: As is our duty. And it is not our place to question His Celestial Wisdom, is it, Sang-wei?
Feng: [Pause] Of course not, Sang-Shao.
Liao-Subramanya: Key to that future is the Unity alliance with the Draconis Combine. Their drive into the Republic has aided our own.
Feng: We share a common enemy in the Republic.
Liao-Subramanya: Indeed we do. And yet, Sang-wei, I have heard disquieting reports regarding you.
Feng: I- I have no idea what you are talking about, Sang-shao. I remain a loyal daughter of the Confederation.
Liao-Subramanya: And yet, you have been questioning our alliance with the Combine. You have said that they cannot be trusted, and that they will turn on us when they feel we are no longer useful to their goals, or to claim Terra for their own.
Feng: Sang-shao, if you would let me explain-
Liao-Subramanya: The formation of this Alliance was the Chancellor’s decision, Sang-wei. Are you questioning the Celestial Wisdom’s guidance?
Feng: Of course not, Sang-shao. However, if I could be allowed to explain myself.
Liao-Subramanya: Go on.
Feng: While the Capellan people and the Draconis Combine share common enemies in both the Republic and the Davions, we also must not allow ourselves to be blinded by this fact. While I do not question the Chancellor’s formation of this alliance, I do worry that the Combine will turn on us the moment they feel they can gain any advantage.
Liao-Subramanya: I see, Sang-wei.
Feng: My only concern is for the safety of the Confederation and protecting ourselves against such treachery.
Liao-Subramanya: Of course. Given all of that, I have a special duty for you, Sang-wei.
Feng: What is it, Sang-shao?
Liao-Subramanya: The Chancellor has seen that such a risk is possible, and feels that we should be prepared for such a betrayal.
Feng: Of course the Celestial Wisdom has. I should not have questioned his decisions.
Liao-Subramanya: Since you have shown such... passion for the subject, I want you to put together a series of training exercises for the regiment that will prepare it to face the Combine’s forces. Specifically, I want you to focus on those units that are presently active in the region, operating against the Republic. Ensure that our janshi are ready for their equipment, their tactics and anything else.
Feng: Yes, Sang-shao. I will do so immediately.
-
From the personal journal of Zeke Isaacs
It is said that the past is another country. In our case, that is very literal.
Today, my oldest son is now a man. He has lived most of his life away from a home that he only barely remembers, one that his own children will never see. While I have done my best to ensure that he, and my other children, will know our history and our traditions, he will never experience it in person. And as time goes on, the risks of the life we have chosen will ensure that there are less and less of us and more of the alghuraba among our ranks.
When we left our homes nearly twenty years ago, we all accepted that we could not go back. That home, after all, no longer existed, and to return would mean death for all of us. Instead, we put our faith in Leonid Stanislav to ensure our safety. His family have guided ours for generations, both at home and in our interactions with the people of the Inner Sphere. His predecessor opened the way to us, and then others in his family ensured that we would have a way back each time.
The destruction wreaked by the Word and their so-called Jihad was enough to call an end to our experiment. It showed us that further interaction would only invite death. Many feared that sooner or later, somebody would find their way back to our homes, bringing their wars with them. When we took in the almutajawilun a half-decade later, it was a risk, but also a reminder of the threats we faced. And nearly five decades later, that threat would come home to us. And so we left, to live among the people of the Inner Sphere.
I would be lying if I said that I have never once questioned Leonid Stanislav and his decisions, but this most recent incident may have been the worst so far. I know that blood and loyalty are important, and that the relationship between the Stanislav and de Luca families has lasted for generations. I have read the records of the first expedition, and know how Scarlett de Luca and her Krymzon Guards were vital to its success. And I can see how the debt of honour has not only persisted, but also grown over time.
But such a debt should also be measured by one’s worth to honour it, and I would be remiss if I considered Isabella de Luca to be dhu qima by any means. But she is not even remotely worthy of that title. Yes, she has the strength of her predecessors, but that is all. Instead, she is impulsive, hot headed and irresponsible, driven more by her own desires rather than any reason. Leonid seems to have given her his trust, despite the fact that she has not yet done anything to earn it beyond the simple dint of her ancestry. And if that was all, then I would have reason to be upset.
Instead, that relationship has been weaponised by her. She entered into an alliance, one created by an agent of the Republic of the Sphere. Then she chose to bring Leonid into it, a move that he readily accepted. To say that is concerning would be an understatement. We do not know this Republic; it did not exist when we were last in the Inner Sphere, and all we heard from it were second and third hand tales. And by the time we returned, it was gone; hidden behind hisn ghayr maryiyin. Now it seems to be teetering on the edge of collapse. And yet, this is the future that we are being tied to.
Perhaps I am being overly dramatic here, simply seeing the worst possible outcome. I still owe Leonid Stanislav my loyalty, and I do trust him to make the right choices for us; after all, there could simply be something here that I am not seeing.
Regardless, this is meant to be a joyous day. I should focus on that and celebrate the moment rather then dwell on something that might never happen.
-
Friendship, Loyalty, Honesty
There were a number of reasons why this particular bar was one of Gillian Blackrock’s favourite places to do business. Its owners had gone heavily on what was colloquially known as an ‘old world’ aesthetic for the interior fit out, with dark hardwood panels and quiet booths along the walls, accompanied by deliberately dim lighting. This meant that as a whole, it was a good place to do business. Discrete, quiet and easy to hide yourself from prying eyes.
Unfortunately, the person who she was meeting today was the opposite of all those things.
While Blackrock sat up straight in her functional dark suit, quietly nursing a coffee, Isabella de Luca was all but slouched opposite her, wearing a bright red jacket and with a large mug of ale in front of her. If she was doing this purely by chance, then it would have annoyed Blackrock. And if de Luca was doing it on purpose, then she was making an excellent show of being as obnoxious as possible.
“I’ll assume that by now you know about where I’m headed,” she commented, only half looking at Blackrock as she spoke.
“I do, yes,” she replied, keeping her tone nicely neutral and discrete. “Tigress; a world right at the convergence point of the Capellan Confederation, Draconis Combine and Federated Suns, with a Sea Fox enclave right next to that. Historically the home of Laurel’s Legion and also, more recently, the capitol of the Steel Wolves during their effort at empire building.” She listed off the facts like she was reading from a tourist brochure.
“And right on the doorstep of your old stomping grounds.”
That resulted in a pause and the very slightest of twitches on her part. “Please, GB, don’t think I don’t know who your ex-employer was,” Isabella continued, an ever-so-slight smirk creeping into her expression. “And that you know all about the former Prefecture, top to bottom.”
Blackrock was about to speak again, but de Luca raised a finger as if to cut her off. “And no, since I know you’re going to ask, Ponytail didn’t give you up. Nor did Irisz. This is something I found out on my own.”
There was a short sigh. “I admit that you’re better at this then I gave you credit for,” Blackrock finally spoke. “So I can presume you’re after information on your target.”
“Whatever you can give me,” she nodded. “For starters, I know that Laurel's Legion is no longer on-world, having been moved deeper towards Terra.” de Luca tilted her head for a moment in thought. “Last I heard was New Home, but with the speed intel moves at these days that could mean anything. That’s not to discount some sort of planetary guard or the like, and I suspect that the Legion helped whip whatever’s there into shape.”
“I’ll assume that this is some sort of focused objective raid,” Blackrock commented, adjusting her glasses. “If you could give me a list of your targets then that would help a lot.”
“Could do, but I’m sure you can do more than that.” Isabella leaned forward, one hand propping up her chin, an almost eager grin on her face. “Given how much you know.”
Her response was an almost visible flinch of distaste, but at the same time, it sparked something else. “I think I can do better than that.”
“Oh?” Isabella raised a curious brow.
“My associate, Tony Jaros, was also active in the region,” she explained, “and has more than just knowledge. In his time, he built a considerable network of contacts across the worlds of the Prefecture.”
“So I should go to him for help?”
“No,” she shook her head. “Bring him with you. Get him on the ground with your force and he will be more than just another MechWarrior. He can use what – and who - he knows to your advantage.”
“Interesting,” Isabella nodded. “I can see the bennies of that arrangement right now. He knows people, he hates Cappies and he brings another ‘Mech to the party.” She squinted sideways at Blackrock. “Of course, this also wouldn’t just be a way for you to get out of helping me out here.”
“No,” she bluntly responded. “I’m happy to provide whatever information you need for this operation. But Jaros can give you more than just that. He can allow you to use it to your best advantage.”
“Which means that I’m putting my faith in a criminal who was recommended to me by a dodgy infobroker who could be just trying to cover her tracks and offload a problem.” Isabella grinned. “Sounds like my kind of party.”
-
Guest chapter by KayEmm
Don’t Tell Me the Numbers
Galatea City
Galatea
Galatean League
4 July 3150
Kari Moreno looked over the contract, carefully studying each and every word in it. She had seen plenty of them before in the seven years since she had taken control of the Dark Suns - far earlier than she had ever wanted to - and each time she felt the need to be thorough in what she did. But this time was different.
Now this wasn’t just about her unit or her family’s legacy.
When she had agreed to Irisz Magyari’s alliance, it had seemed like a logical suggestion. Share information and resources while preparing for a future that seemed worryingly possible. And while she appreciated the support, there was also a part of her that felt like whatever she was doing would have long-reaching consequences for not just her or her unit, but for that alliance as a whole.
She took a deep breath, and looked at it again.
“So your read on it?” Damien spoke up from his seat next to her. She wanted him to look at this before anyone else did so that he could pick over the fine text in detail. Kari knew that as soon as he did, the gears would be spinning in his head, running numbers, projecting outcomes and looking at how things could work out for them. It was something he had done numerous times before, both for her and then her father before her.
That last thought bought a slight shudder. Unconsciously she rubbed the black sun tattoo on the back of her hand before continuing. “While this is a raid, the generous salvage rights make it clear that this is less about stealing supplies than it is stopping the Dracs from having them,” she assessed. “Given that the depots in question are being used to support top-tier DCMS units who are on the front of the conflict, those are also going to be top-tier, high-priority parts.” She paid a moment before she continued. “Probably including a lot of Clantech.”
Her eyes darted over the rest of the document. “The Second New Samarkand Regulars are known to be on-world. While they are only a regular regiment, they’re also the favorites of the Warlord, and get the best supplies. They took substantial losses when they took Tsamma, but have had some time to rebuild. This does mean that any salvage we take from them will again be heavy on the high-end parts and tech.”
“It’s the employer that bothers me,” she finally admitted.
“The Federated Suns,” Damien confirmed.
“Who have not exactly been on a winning streak of late,” Kari continued. “And have had plenty of problems with mercenaries recently as well.”
“Both valid concerns,” Damien noted.
“And while we worked for the Federated Suns a few years ago, a lot of things have changed since then,” she continued.
“Which does bring me to one point,” Damien offered. “Our liaison.”
She looked down at the page again. “Joseph Pietre,” Kari considered. “Wasn’t he our liaison last time?”
“He was,” Damien confirmed. “And he did an excellent job of looking after our payment, distributing salvage and expediting the process. He has an excellent head for numbers and efficient processes.”
“Which coming from you is one hell of a compliment,” Kari smiled. “Okay, now this is looking a lot better.”
-
Damien McKinnon
Position/Rank: Colonel
Affiliation/Unit: Mercenary/McKinnon’s Marauders
Birth Year: 3108
The McKinnon family have been mercenaries for generations, serving in various units going back to the dawn of the Succession Wars. McKinnon’s Marauders, the family unit, has existed for over a century, fighting through a variety of conflicts. Despite numerous setbacks, including being nearly destroyed several times, the unit has persisted and continued to fight. Throughout the years, it has been led by members of the McKinnon family, who have typically commanded the unit from the front, be it by choice or necessity.
Thomas McKinnon commanded the unit through the transition from the peace of the Republic era to the chaos of the Dark Age. Despite the challenges that represented, he proved to be a steady hand and decisive leader, and helped his unit grow over the years. Among his responsibilities was to continue the unit; while there were other members of the McKinnon family, it was expected that his own child would become the unit’s next commander.
His son, Damien, was born in 3108. Even from a young age he not only understood the responsibility that was expected of him, but willingly embraced it. He drove himself hard to become the best that he could be, both as a MechWarrior and an officer, becoming very competitive in his attitude. He wanted to prove that he was worthy of the position not solely because of his birth, but because he was the best leader that the Marauders would have. This attitude served him well during his academy years, where he would consistently be at the top of his classes.
All this experience would become vital when he took to the field as a part of the Marauders. While his training had been undertaken during the pax republica, by the time he had graduated the HPG blackout had already seen that peace evaporate. His early years would be filled with combat as the Marauders availed themselves of the sudden wealth of contracts available to them. He quickly gained considerable experience in the field, proving that he was every bit as capable as expected.
One incident on Nirasaki in 3136 would prove that his family’s faith in him had been justified. The unit had been hired by the now-independent planetary government to help bolster their defenses against the very real threat of the Draconis Combine. A surprise Combine strike hit the world, aimed both at measuring their defenses while also laying the groundwork for a future invasion. Damien’s company were separated during the initial strike, having been on maneuvers at the time. Keeping a cool head, he used this separation to his advantage, flanking the body of the Combine force to harry them and threaten their supplies. With their operations threatened, the DCMS unit chose to withdraw from the world.
While Damien’s actions proved his ability to lead the unit, those plans would still be disrupted by an unexpected development. 3141 saw a newcomer join the unit; Damien’s previously unknown, illegitimate half-brother, Terry. While Thomas made it clear that Damien was still his heir and that Terry would serve on his own merits, Damien came to see his half-sibling as something of a rival. These feelings only increased as Terry proved to be both a capable MechWarrior and junior officer in his own right.
After Thomas McKinnon stepped down as commander in 3148, Damien took the position that he had been training for all his life. Thus far, his command has been marked by a growth in the unit’s size and capabilities as they prepare for a very uncertain future. His relationship with his half-brother remains somewhat tense, however. While Damien is married and has two children of his own, both of them are still only young teenagers. As such, there are some within the unit who have suggested that Terry should be named as an heir as a precaution against disaster, an idea that Damien is so far opposed to.
AS7-D2 Atlas III Demon’s Head
Mass: 100 tons
Chassis: Foundation 12X Endo Steel
Powerplant: Vlar 300
Cruising Speed: 32 kph
Maximum Speed: 54 kph
Jump Jets: None
Jump Capacity: None
Armour: Starshield Special Heavy
Armament:
1 Type 0 HAG/30
2 Martell-X Medium Pulse Lasers
1 StarTek 20 Tube Long Range Streak Launcher
1 Type IV Streak SRM-6 Launcher
Comm System: Rander Comm-Marshal with Angel ECM Suite
T&T System: Dalban HiRez V with Targeting Computer
Traditionally members of the McKinnon family have lead the Marauders from the frontlines, and Damien, like his father is no exception. In 3120, Thomas McKinnon took an Atlas III as a part of payment for a contract with the Federated Suns, choosing it as his new personal BattleMech. The combination of its firepower, rugged design and electronics made it a solid choice for him to use to lead the unit, and he would continue to operate it for the rest of his career. While the ‘Mech was often in the thick of fighting, it never once failed him.
When he inherited command of the unit, Damien also received his father’s BattleMech to use for himself. While the move was based entirely on practicality (after all, Thomas had no use for an assault BattleMech in a non-combatant advisory role), Damien took it as a further sign of his family’s faith in him and his ‘worthiness’ to command. In many ways, this choice became somewhat validating to him, especially as his half-brother Terry showed no interest in heavier BattleMechs.
While Damien is confident in his abilities and his BattleMech, he also is realistic about both the threats that a battlefield represents as well as the need for his own survival. He will usually be found at the center of a formation, supporting the rest of his unit with accurate fire as well as its extensive electronic warfare capabilities. However, he also will not hesitate to mix it up in close combat if needs be, an option supported by the BattleMech’s sheer weight and thick armour.
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Guest character by Zogster
Jakub Day
Position/Rank: aga’ush
Affiliation/Unit: Mercenary/Star of Sumer
Birth Year: 3130
The Star of Sumer was born at the end of the Jihad from the merger of three battered mercenary commands. Rather than establishing a traditional mercenary dynasty, the three families that commanded the constituent units chose to create an alliance where they would choose the unit’s leaders from among them. While in theory this allowed for a better sharing of power while avoiding the risk of the sudden loss of an entire family line, it also created a surprisingly complicated political structure within the unit.
Jakub Day is the only child of Gerhardt Day, a former commander of the Star of Sumer. Like the rest of his family, he was essentially born into the unit’s structure, and trained with the aim of one day becoming not only a MechWarrior within its ranks, but also potentially its leader. Unfortunately, Gerhardt would be killed in a catastrophic defeat in 3138 while piloting the unit’s hereditary BattleMaster.
As the unit withdrew into the former Republic to rebuild and reorganize, Jakub would be informally adopted by Katarina Morrison, the daughter of the Star’s new leader. She would help to mentor him, and teach him the skills that he would one day need. As he grew, Jakub’s life would be dominated by change, both internally and externally. Not only did he see the peace of the Republic era vanish into a new age of escalating warfare, but he also watched as the Star of Sumer changed and restructured around him.
The most radical of these changes would come when the unit took in members from the Republican branch of the Kotovski family, the third of its founders. While many were cautious about the presence of newcomers, Jakub was among those who welcomed the new arrivals into the unit. He saw them as a chance for the Star to modernize and reform himself, and soon became a supporter of that group. His support became even more vocal when Lana Kotovski, herself Republican born, became the new commander of the Star of Sumer in 3147 at Katarina’s suggestion.
Due to his being a part of the Day family, Jakub was offered a position as the commander of the Star’s Comet Company, a position that his forefathers had traditionally held. Instead, he turned it down, citing his own lack of experience and a desire to earn his position on his own merits. As a compromise, Jakub was given command of a strike lance within the company, putting him in the decidedly non-traditional position of a MechWarrior answering to a tanker.
While inexperienced, Jakub has so far shown considerable growth in his skills. Quick-witted and tactically minded, he focuses more on supporting his unit as a whole on the field, rather than focusing on personal glory or scoring kills for himself. So far, this approach has served the Star Company, and the unit as a whole, well.
In his very first combat assignment on Romita, Jakub’s strike lance proved to be vital to the Star’s success. The unit was taking part in what was intended to be a routine garrison contract when the world was raided by forces from the Marian Hegemony. Careful maneuvering and quick thinking allowed Jakub’s unit to outflank and outmaneuver a larger Marian force, forcing them to halt their advance to deal with the distraction. This bought time for the rest of the Star to form up and then strike the Marians, inflicting severe losses on their force.
While Jakub knows that he will likely eventually lead the Star of Sumer, he is determined that he will be worthy of the position in his own right. As such, he spends much of his time practicing and learning the skills that he will need for such a position when the day comes. So far, he also has been content to earn that privilege rather than simply accept it as being inevitable.
SHD-7H Shadow Hawk Princess
Mass: 55 tons
Chassis: Earthworks SHD II Endo Steel
Powerplant: Hermes 275 Light
Cruising Speed: 54 kph
Maximum Speed: 86 kph
Jump Jets: Chilton 360
Jump Capacity: 150 meters
Armour: Maximillian 43
Armament:
1 Imperator Code Red LB 10-X Autocannon
1 Diverse Optics Extended Range Medium Laser
1 Holly Enhanced LRM-5 launcher
1 Holly SRM-2 launcher
Comm System: Neil 9000
T&T System: RCA Instatrac Mark XII
The Shadow Hawk known as Princess has been a part of the Star of Sumer’s roster for as long as anyone can remember. Even the origins of the name are unclear; as near as anyone can tell, the BattleMech has always been called that. While the ‘Mech has passed through a number of different owners and positions within the unit, it has had a constant place. When the unit suffered severe losses in 3138, the ‘Mech was put aside for a major rebuild, which saw it upgraded to the modern 7H standard.
For the next decade, the ‘Mech primarily served in a training role for new members of the unit. Jakub Day was among those that trained on it, and he developed something of a liking for the ‘Mech. On his graduation to full-fledged member of the unit, he was offered a heavier or more advanced BattleMech. Rather, he chose to stay with Princess, as he found that it suited the way he fought and operated.
At present, Jakub commands a medium strike lance in Comet Company. As the company is headed up by a heavy tank lance, he usually acts as a mobile support element, helping to protect the flanks of their advances while screening for enemies. In this role the versatility of his ‘Mech comes into its own, especially with the use of such ordinance as smoke missiles. So far, this approach has worked well for both him and his unit.
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Guest character by KayEmm
Kirsten Ravenwater
Position/Rank: Star Captain
Affiliation/Unit: Hell's Horses/Alpha Galaxy
Birth Year: 3125
After long being dismissed as a second-rate power that was largely isolated from the rest of the Inner Sphere, the last decade has seen Clan Hell’s Horses grow in both power and influence. While initially this came through their Golden Ordun alliance with the Jade Falcons, the Clan has since begun to forge its own path. Kirsten Ravenwater is among a new generation of Hell's Horses warriors who will be at the forefront of the Clan’s future, whatever it may be.
While she was decanted in 3125, Kirsten would grow up in the years following the Blackout and the escalating fighting that came along with it. Even in her sibko days, Kirsten was seen as being a ristar by her peers for a variety of reasons. First and foremost was her performance in training exercises, which were not only at the top of her sibko, but also considered to be exceptional overall. Highly competitive and driven, she repeatedly and consistently used her skills to outperform her fellows and earn her Wranglers’ respect during training exercises.
On top of that, Kirsten became something of an outspoken Crusader within her sibko, feeling that for too long the Clan had been isolationist and avoiding conflict. With the Inner Sphere degenerating into war, she felt that the Horses should step forward and claim their destiny. However, her beliefs did not include the Jade Falcons’ perversion of the Mongol doctrine; instead, she felt that such total warfare was abhorrent to the way of the Clans. While still too young to take part in the fighting, she was elated when her Clan surged into the former Wolf Occupation Zone, seeing the move as proof of her convictions.
Her ristar status would be born out following her Trial of Position. Kirsten easily defeated two opponents to reach the rank of Star Commander, and came within a hair’s breadth of taking down a third before her own BattleMech was disabled. None the less, the combination of her performance and her talents had won her no small degree of interest from others within the Clan. She was assigned to a position in the Horses’ prestigious Alpha Galaxy, a clear mark of respect for her abilities.
While she would take part in raids and trials over the next two years, her first major action would come in 3147 when Alpha Galaxy targeted the industrial world of New Oslo. Eager for battle with the Rasalhauge Dominion, Kirsten would acquit herself well on the battlefield. While the warriors of the Fifty-fourth Provisional Garrison Cluster proved to be lacking in skill, their sheer determination made them dangerous. Nonetheless, she was able to destroy or disable a number of enemy ‘Mechs during the battle, while her own came out relatively unscathed. The highlight came in a duel with a Ghost Bear Bruin, where she used a series of carefully-aimed shots to cripple the heavier BattleMech.
In 3148 Kirsten was nominated for the Ravenwater Bloodname, sponsored by a senior member of the Bloodhouse. Despite that backing, every step of the competition was a challenge as she faced older and more experienced opponents. The final round saw her competing against Star Captain Taris, who not only was a veteran of the fighting with the Lyran Commonwealth, but also was far stronger than she was. Taris had fought and won all of his battles unarmed, and won the right to do such in the final round. Reaslising what she was up against, Kirsten chose to fight him in a dense jungle swamp which would limit his mobility and vision. After hours of patiently stalking him, she ambushed him by dropping out of a tree, latching onto him and choking him out while he violently tried to dislodge her. Despite his efforts, she emerged battered, bruised and ultimately victorious.
Now that the Horses have disentangled themselves from their alliance, Kirsten has become among those voices calling for more dramatic action. She still feels that the Horses, as Crusaders, should reach out and strike at Terra and claim their destiny. And if that involves going through their former allies then she welcomes the chance for further combat.
Cauldron Born (Ebon Jaguar) F Firebrand
Mass: 65 tons
Chassis: CSJ Type 65.43 Endo
Powerplant: Consolidated 325 XL Fusion
Cruising Speed: 54 kph
Maximum Speed: 86 kph
Jump Jets: None
Jump Capacity: None
Armour: Composite A-4 Ferro-Fibrous
Armament:
2 Type 22 Extended Range PPCs
2 Type 6 Series Advanced Tactical Missile Systems
Comm System: Hector CC-22E
T&T System: Integrated Bravo-7 with Targeting Computer
Created by the long-extinct Clan Smoke Jaguar, the Ebon Jaguar (known as the Cauldron Born in the Inner Sphere) would long outlive its creators. In the aftermath of the Clan’s destruction, the BattleMech would continue to serve with both Clan and Inner Sphere forces. While rare, it was prized for its combination of mobility, firepower and durability. The recent reintroduction of the OmniMech into production by Clan Sea Fox has helped to further proliferate the design.
While she would pilot a variety of different BattleMechs during her training and trial, Kirsten was assigned a new Ebon Jaguar on her graduation to frontline service. She took an immediate liking to the ‘Mech which suited her overly aggressive approach to combat. It would serve her well, both in trials against her fellow Horses and combat against their enemies. Taking advantage of its OmniMech capabilities, she prefers to use the F configuration for dueling or when facing BattleMech-focused forces, but will switch to others (such as the multi-role E configuration) as needed.
Kirsten drives her BattleMech (which she has nicknamed Firebrand) hard, often aggressively riding its heat curve or pushing its mobility to its limits. So far, this approach has worked well for her. While her ‘Mech has taken punishing damage in battle due to her naked aggression, so far it has never once failed her so far. Whether this success will continue remains to be seen.
-
Tigress Home Guard
Overview
The current Tigress Home Guard is the result of two decades of developments bought on by the HPG Blackout and formation of Fortress Republic. The original Tigress Standing Guard was effectively dismantled when the Steel Wolves took control of the world and made it their capitol in late 3132. The Wolves seized all of the Home Guard’s equipment for their own forces. Those members of the Home Guard that did not support the Wolves (which was the majority of them) were stood down.
When Anastasia Kerensky launched the Steel Wolves campaigns to take Northwind and Terra, she stripped their holdings of almost all their defences to provide troops. Tigress was left effectively undefended, which would be a factor in the world’s choice to be annexed by the Federated Suns in 3135.
In order to protect their holdings, the AFFS attempted to raise a new planetary militia. This force was composed of a mixture of new recruits and members of the Standing Guard who had been effectively dispossessed by the Wolves three years prior. The force was armed with whatever material that could come to hand, leading to an ad-hoc and poorly supported force. Nonetheless, its members remained loyal to their world, with many still hoping for a return of the Republic.
This unit would face its first real challenge in 3145 when the world was invaded by Laurel’s Legion, who were set on reclaiming their ancestral homeworld. Despite the support of Narhal’s Raiders, the planetary militia was defeated by the Capellan force, with the unit suffering substantial losses. The remainder of the force surrendered after their mercenary allies withdrew from the world, unwilling to fight for a lost cause against the energised invaders.
Having reclaimed the world, the Capellan Confederation effectively dismantled the remnants of the planetary militia. The survivors of the force were considered to be politically suspect due to their prior ties to both the Republic and the Federated Suns, and would be detained. Likewise, very little of their remaining equipment was deemed usable, having been built out of whatever was available at the time.
Instead, the Capellans built the new Tigress Home Guard from the ground up. The unit was staffed with citizens of Capellan descent who were deemed to be ‘acceptable’ through Maskirovka screening, and led by an officer corps made up of Capellan officers. The plan was to combine local knowledge and planetary loyalty with experienced officers that would be able to provide direction while also ensuring loyalty to the state. The unit was still forming when Tigress was raided by the Dawn Guard in August of 3146, and as such played very little role in the battle.
Training for the unit was bolstered by the presence of Laurel’s Legion, who would act as both instructors and opposing force for exercises. While beneficial, this cooperation would prove to be a double-edged sword. Laurel’s Legion took to using the Tigress Home Guard as a feeder unit, farming it for replacement personnel and equipment. This would cost the unit several talented officers, hampering its growth.
In 3149, Laurel’s Legion was moved off-world as a part of Operation TIAMAT, leaving the Home Guard as Tigress’ sole defenders. With the world presently at the intersection of the Confederation, the Draconis Combine and the Federated Suns, as well as having a Sea Fox enclave nearby, the Home Guard’s leadership have assumed that their would could be attacked at any time, and have moved it up to an advanced stage of readiness.
Organisation and Equipment
Despite having been built from the ground up in the last five years, the Home Guard have been able to form a cohesive force through their aggressive recruitment. At present, the unit consists of one regiment of armour and two of infantry, augmented by additional forces.
The First Tigress Armoured Regiment forms the core of the Home Guards’ forces. The bulk of the unit is made up of older Capellan designs that can be easily maintained and supported by local industry, such as the Po and Sheriff. Artillery support largely comes in the form of battlefield units such as LRM carriers. Due to the simplicity of the designs it employs, the unit has managed to maintain a high degree of readiness.
The two infantry regiments are mostly made up of conventional foot infantry units, mostly armed with locally built small arms. These are augmented by a smattering of specialty units such as recon teams or minesweepers, and a small number of jump infantry platoons. Furthermore, the force has a detachment of battle armour, again mostly made up of older designs such as the Inner Sphere Standard and Theseus. The regiments each possess a small number of APCs to aid in mobility, and a company of field guns.
While the plan for the unit called for a battalion of BattleMechs to work with conventional forces, supply to frontline forces took priority. As a result, the unit has so far received only a company of BattleMechs, mostly Calliopes and Guns. In order to make up for this shortfall, the unit has recently received a company of Firebee MilitiaMechs.
Likewise, the needs of supplying frontline forces has so far prevented the Home Guard from acquiring any aerospace fighters. Rather, it has been equipped with a full wing of conventional fighters. Training for the unit has so far been lacklustre, with many of the pilots having only minimal flight time. What experience they have has been largely focused on supporting ground forces.
Colours and Insignia
The Tigress Home Guard do not have a standard parade scheme and instead use appropriate local camouflage. The unit’s insignia depicts the Tigress Planetary Crest rendered in Liao green and black.
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Audio Log #76709-Rho
Irisz Magyari: You have something for me?
Antonin Rybak: A job, actually.
Magyari: With you employing us directly, I suppose.
Rybak: That would be correct. Consider this our first ‘live’ outing.
Magyari: Interesting. Given that, I would assume that our target is related to the Republic, the Wolves, or both.
Rybak: You would be correct there. There are… assets on Castor that would be useful to us, and we need to extract them. Of course, Castor is right at the point where the Wolf Empire is presently focusing its forces, which makes what we’re planning to do dangerous to say the least.
Magyari: How dangerous are you talking about here?
Rybak: The Wolves hit the world with three clusters from Alpha Galaxy, including the Golden Keshik. And while they have since moved those clusters on, given the world’s location and the force they used to take it, I can only imagine that they are not going to be slack in their defences.
Magyari: The perils of trying to gather intel on a fast-moving situation in an age of no HPGs.
Rybak: Pretty much that. Based on known unit dispositions and recent movements, it’s likely that a Theta Galaxy cluster has been moved to hold the world in the interim while ensuring that their frontline units are still free for whatever they are planning to do next.
Magyari: So Marik-Stewart adoptees equipped with AMSC salvage? That tracks. We’ve faced a Theta Galaxy cluster before.
Rybak: Kalidassa, if I recall; the so-called Ryochicken incident.
Magyari: You’ve done your homework.
Ryback: Let’s just say that one was of particular interest and leave it at that.
Magyari: Fair. So we’d still be looking at a considerable force on-world. Plus we have to consider that the Wolves might be aware of these assets.
Rybak: Which brings me to the plan. We go in with two units; yours and Fairchild’s.
Magyari: Interesting. I’m going to take the worst case scenario and assume that I’m the bait while Fairchild does the dirty work?
Rybak: Well if you want to put it like that…
Magyari: No, I understand fully. My job is to make this look like a spoiling raid or the like to distract from the true objective. I’ve played this game before.
Rybak: If it helps any, I will be there with her force.
Magyari: So clearly this is important enough that you’re willing to stick your own neck out for it. Okay, now I’m convinced.
-
Missed Connection I
Irisz,
We just landed a new contract after you departed on yours. Given the lack of HPGs and all the other issues of operational security and such, I figured that the best thing would be to leave you a letter for when you get back here.
I can’t say where we’re going, of course; operational security again. I will say that it is going to be a while, and that it is a high-risk assignment. It's the realities that come with our chosen occupation and all, but even then this is a big risk. You can take what you want from what I said. I can’t make any promises but I will try to bring myself back alive.
And as if that wasn’t enough, apparently Damien negotiated this deal through one of the family’s long list of contacts, so take that how you will. They approached him and he was eager enough to comply, maybe because it was a good deal or simply to show that he’s the boss. I don’t think this is a bad deal, but I also feel a touch concerned that Damien is trying a bit too hard, and could be getting us in over our heads. Or I could be reading too much into all this.
The worst sibling rivalry is when you only just find you have a sibling and they have years of rivalry to catch up on.
(Speaking of, Ronnie’s doing well. Still trying to get him and Jessie to actually talk)
Good news is that our little network was able to cough up some additional intel on who we’re likely to be facing. I would have liked to talk to Kari on the subject, since she’s faced them personally, but what do you know, I missed her too. Timing, right? I shared all that back with Damien, and he took it all on board as well as the intel he got from the employer. I figure that could work out well for us.
I also gathered that you were leaving with Ponytail and friends attached to your force. I’d be very interested to hear how all that goes. Sim battles are one thing, but they are no match for the real thing.
There are a few things I want to tell you, but they are matters best dealt with face to face. So until then, take care of yourself and try to stay alive.
Terry
-
Guest chapter by KayEmm
The People You Meet
Fort Preah
Tsamma, New Samarkand Military District
Draconis Combine
21 September 3150
By design Kari’s Black Knight normally ran hot. Its loadout of entirely Clantech energy weapons created immense amounts of heat when fired, which meant that she had to be very careful when in combat to prevent overheating. At the moment, she was roasting inside the cockpit of her BattleMech as it continued to advance towards the enemy line.
The situation was not helped by the environment around her: Tsamma was a world of humid jungles, which served to further tax her ‘Mech’s cooling system. However, that situation had also been useful to her. She had used the combination of tree cover, humidity and rain to cover the Dark Suns’ approach to their target. The Combine forces hadn’t seen them coming until they were upon them.
That didn’t mean they weren’t going to put up a fight by any means. The Combine forces were well dug-in around their objective, a supply depot that was packed with vital war material, and were not about to give up by any means.
Kari let loose another volley of fire at a Combine Maelstrom, aiming to take out the fast-moving heavy ‘Mech. Two of her lasers clipped its flank, slicing off armor but doing little to actually stop it. As she did, another wave of heat flooded into the cockpit, hitting her with almost physical force.
A moment later, the Maelstrom added to the assault in a more literal sense as it opened up with its own weapons. A PPC smashed into the Black Knight’s flank, while a burst of laser fire seared armor off a leg. Her BattleMech staggered under the sudden loss of two tons of armor, shuddering as she fought it for control. A combination of skill and determination kept the massive machine on its feet, Kari quickly pushing it forward again.
The Maelstrom turned to come around again, clearly intent on bringing down its target. Before it could, the froglike ‘Mech was hammered by two score missiles that sent it sliding across the muddy ground. As it fell, more missiles hammered into it as Damien’s Archer coordinated fire with a pair of Hawk Moth gunships swooping down from above.
Other members of the Dark Suns joined her in her advance, bursting out of the jungle and charging towards the enemy line. On her flank, Komatsu’s Hunchback pushed forwards, the MechWarrior inside barrelling ahead with seemingly little concern for his own safety. “Careful, Sun Three,” she called out. “Stay in formation.”
As if to underscore her point, a laser shot lashed the Hunchback, followed by a flight of missiles that peppered its torso. The source of the assault, a Joust tank, advanced forwards, its treads tearing into the soggy ground. Despite the damage, Komatsu’s BattleMech retained its footing, seemingly unconcerned by the attack.
“I’ve got this, lead,” he called back as he continued his advance. To prove the point, he opened fire with his Hunchback’s autocannon, the weapon unleashing a cloud of shot towards the offending tank. Submunitions peppered its hull with explosions, shaking the vehicle and kicking up a cloud of dirt and debris. The Joust swerved and halted in its advance, if not disabled then clearly wounded in the assault.
Out of the corner of her eye Kari saw the Maelstrom rise again, and quickly spun her Black Knight’s torso to respond. As she did, the Combine ‘Mech spat fire again, but the fall had clearly thrown its aim off. Both of its shots went wide, still searing close enough for Kari to almost feel them.
Her response was a little more blunt, however, with her targeting computer effortlessly compensating for her movement and torso swing. Brilliant laser beams sliced through the rain-filled air before searing armor off the enemy ‘Mech’s torso and side. To the credit of the MechWarrior inside, the Maelstrom managed to remain standing despite the assault that she had unleashed, with nary a shudder in its step. Another pair of missile flights slammed into it, but it continued to advance despite the damage.
A Griffin IIC burst forward to support its ally, launching a pair of missiles back towards Damien’s Archer. The shots struck the blocky BattleMech in the side, rocking it but failing to puncture its thick armour. A moment later, Jack’s Phoenix Hawk leapt overhead, its lasers spitting green darts into the Griffin’s back, causing it to stumble forward. Something inside seemed to have ruptured under the fire, as a cloud of black smoke erupted from its side.
Confident that the situation was under control, Kari turned her attention back to the objective. Before she could go any further, a stream of brilliant blue flames washed over her BattleMech, accompanied by a massive surge of heat. A moment later alarms went off inside the cockpit as the Black Knight’s heat spiked to dangerous levels. Grunting against the oppressive heat, she spun around to face her attacker.
A Rifleman IIC had turned to face her, the ‘Mech’s quartet of weapons levelled at her BattleMech. A quick glance at the range indicator told Kari that she was beyond the effective reach of its heavy lasers, but those weren’t what she was worried about. Its twin plasma weapons could simply disable her ‘Mech by overheating it and forcing it to shut down.
Cursing the heat, Kari stepped backwards while bringing her weapons to bear. Trying to keep her heat under control, she fired only her particle projector cannon, hoping to at least discourage her opponent. The brilliant blue beam leapt out, and slammed straight into the Rifleman’s head. For a moment, the decapitated Kuritan ‘Mech simply stood there before toppling backwards.
Lucky break, she considered. Can’t rely on that going forwards.
As the Rifleman fell, a second heavy ‘Mech stepped forwards. Humanoid in shape, it resembled nothing as much as an outsized suit of samurai armor, complete with massive banners flying from its back and a sword in one hand. She immediately recognised it as a Shiro, an advanced design usually reserved for senior officers. “I think I have eyes on their leader,” she spoke over the command channel.
“I see them,” Komatsu replied as he pushed his Hunchback forwards, stepping over the husk of the wrecked Joust. “I got this.” As he spoke, he opened fire with his autocannon again, the weapon spitting a stream of shells at the Combine BattleMech. The shot hit it square in the side, which should have been a devastating blow.
Instead the Shiro seemingly shrugged it off as if it was nothing. In reply, it let loose a flight of missiles that slammed hard into the Hunchback, enveloping it in flames and debris. The impacts stopped the ‘Mech in its charge, sending it crashing down hard to the ground. Fortunately it was still moving, showing that Komatsu was still alive and that the ‘Mech was still functional if nothing else.
With her Black Knight’s heat beginning to get back under control, Kari turned her attention towards the heavy Combine ‘Mech. With a squeeze of the trigger she was hammered by another wave of heat as her weapons unleashed a searingly bright wave of energy. Shots sliced into the Shiro’s side and arm, but like the Hunchback’s cannon fire, her attacks had surprisingly little effect.
“New contacts,” Kat Stavia’s voice cut into the command channel. “Four approaching from bearing oh-ninety. No IDs.” There was a note of urgency in her tone. “They’re not ours.”
“Which means they’re probably Combine,” Kari concluded. “See if you can confirm them before we engage.”
“Roger that,” Kat concluded.
Keeping one eye on the Shiro, she switched channels. “All units; new targets inbound from oh-ninety. Pivot west and do not fire on newcomers until we have a positive ID.” At the very least, she was going to put the rest of the Combine force between her and the new arrivals to shield her forces.
She bought around the Black Knight, the huge BattleMech lumbering forward as its torso pivoted to continue tracking her opponent as her weapons recharged. As soon as they were ready, she opened fire again, letting loose another volley of lasers at the Shiro. At the same time, it unleashed its own volley of missiles back at her, with her beams disappearing into the exhaust smoke.
Kari’s ‘Mech was rocked under the hammer blow of multiple impacts as nearly two score missiles slammed into it. Warning lights went off across the board as several made their mark on internal systems. Giving the status board only a cursory glance, she continued to wheel the ‘Mech around.
To her side, she could see Komatsu’s Hunchback make it to its feet, only to be pummelled by missile fire from a Combine Avalanche. This time the shots clearly hit something important as the boxy ‘Mech immediately flopped back down into the mud, this time landing a lot harder. “Sun Three, report!” She called out over the command channel.
“Not good,” Komatsu grunted back. “Looks like actuator damage. Not sure if I can get this thing back on its feet.”
Not good at all, Kari told herself. The Shiro was still standing, its armour savaged but far from defeated. Next to it, the Avalanche turned to track her ‘Mech as it cycled its weapons.
Instead, a pair of brilliant blue waves slammed into the Avalanche’s back, toppling the ‘Mech forward. The Shiro’s pilot fired again, but seemed to have been thrown off by the surprise of what happened. This time less than half its missiles hit home, scattering across the Black Knight’s hull.
Kari’s return fire was somewhat more effective, with her lasers focusing on the side that Komatsu had previously assaulted. This time the Shiro shuddered under the assault as her weapons tore through one of its missile launchers as well as the frame of its flank. The Combine ‘Mech stumbled, an act made even more dramatic by its elaborate, armoured design.
And as it wavered, she could see three more ‘Mechs approaching from the flank. A Sun Cobra led them, followed by an Ostsol and another Black Knight. All three of them were in drab green, but wore no apparent markings.
Somehow, Kari suspected they were on her side.
-----
The arrival of the newcomers had taken the fight out of the Combine forces. Wary of their losses, and aware that they were caught between two forces, they had begun to pull back, firing to cover their own retreat. Kari’s last sight of the Shiro had the wounded ‘Mech retreating, its flank savaged by fire. A couple of other Combine ‘Mechs had moved to shield it, confirming her theory that it was the commander.
The Dark Suns had taken advantage of the situation to push onto the base, securing it for their own. As they had done so, the trio of newcomers had also moved in, but had not made any effort to identify themselves so far. As they approached, they were joined by an assortment of battle-armored troopers and several civilian hovertrucks. The Sun Cobra remained at the head of the force, its weapons levelled in a way that suggested wariness and readiness, but not immediate hostile intent.
As they closed she could make out more details. The ‘Mechs looked worn and beaten; functional, but running under field repairs and whatever supplies they could acquire. And while they all wore the same functional drab green scheme, she could make out a common marking; the Federated Suns’ sword and sunburst, picked out in a flat black on their hulls.
She turned her Black Knight to face them, raising its arms. “I am Kari Moreno, leader of the Dark Suns,” she called out over her ‘Mech’s loudspeakers. “We are here on behalf of the Federated Suns. Whoever you are, we share a common enemy and have no quarrel.” She waited nervously for the response.
“Moreno,” the pilot of the Sun Cobra replied. “Let us talk, face to face.”
The last thing I wanted to hear, she considered before dipping over to the command channel. “Options?”
“I don’t like it, Major,” Damien immediately replied, the concern evident in his voice. She could understand why. “But it is our only way to find out who they are and what they want.”
“Agreed,” Kari sighed. “Senstrom, Hawkins, cover me. Kaustev, sweep the area to make sure the Combine troops aren’t trying to loop around and come back.”
A chorus of affirmatives reached her ears. Behind her, Damien’s Archer and a squad of battle armor approached her ‘Mech, while overhead, VTOLs fanned out to begin their search. With that in mind, Kari began disconnecting herself from her BattleMech’s systems, grabbing a flak vest and sidearm as she went.
As soon as the cockpit hatch was opened, she was greeted with the warm, humid air outside, something that was still a relief from the slowly cooling sauna that the cockpit had become. Keeping a wary eye on the other group of ‘Mechs, she began the long climb down to the ground. Senstrom’s battle armor squad had already formed up around the feet, while Damien’s Archer was lurking nearby.
Well here we go, she told herself.
She walked towards the Sun Cobra, her pace steady but focused. She could see what she presumed to be her opposite number approaching; a rough-looking man with an expression that wasn’t so much angry as it was just perpetually annoyed. Like her, he had come from his BattleMech’s cockpit, taking the same degree of preparation.
Kari stopped just short of him. “Thank you for your assistance,” she began. “Our briefing said there weren’t any other Federated Suns forces on-world.”
“Officially there aren’t,” he replied, his tone factual. “Think of us as an irregular command.”
She nodded. “None the less, your timing was perfect.” Kari had no illusions that their move had been anything other than opportunistic, but she was determined to stay on their good side.
“We seemed to have the same objective,” he explained. “Only you had the numbers to actually make it happen.”
“Then we share both the same goals and objectives,” she offered, a small smile creeping onto her face. “Maybe we would be better cooperating, mister…”
“Ivar Grodenko,” he simply replied.
“Are you the leader of this group?”
“Just their spokesman,” he shook his head. “But I think I can arrange something that would work for both of us.”
Kari nodded back. “Good. Then let’s talk.”
-
Guest character by Zogster
Katarina Morrison
Position/Rank: nu Banda
Affiliation/Unit: Mercenary/Star of Sumer
Birth Year: 3110
The merging of three different units allowed the Star of Sumer to survive the Jihad and the age of peace that came after it. At the same time, it also bought with it a complicated web of family politics that has become a part of the unit’s culture, for good or for ill.
Katarina Morrison is the daughter of Calvin Morrison, the previous commander of the Star of Sumer and heir to one of the three families that have led the unit. Like many in her family before her she was raised with the expectation that she would become a MechWarrior and eventually an officer or even commander of the unit, despite the age of the Pax Republica in which she grew up. She willingly embraced this plan, proving to be a dutiful student and eager learner.
On graduation from their semi-formal training program she was assigned command of a lance in the unit’s Eye company, a role that was seen as a stepping stone to eventual command. With the waning of the Kotovski family, one of the Star’s three founders, it was seen as being more and more likely that she would one day take control of the unit. Those in charge of the unit predicted that they would remain in an age of low-level skirmishes and relative stability, which would give her time to grow into the role.
Instead, the HPG Blackout upended all of those plans. As war quickly spread across the Republic and then the rest of the Inner Sphere, mercenary units were suddenly in demand to a degree not seen in five decades. Katarina’s first practical experiences would come at the side of her father as she took part in numerous battles in this new age of conflict. She quickly learned the realities of battlefield command, and showed an ability to adapt to rapidly changing situations.
These lessons would be invaluable following the Star of Sumer’s catastrophic defeat in 3138. Gerhardt Day, the commander of the unit, was killed in action, along with the last member of the Kotovski family. Calvin stepped up to commander of the unit, a move that also placed Katarina on the path to one day taking his place with her promotion to the commander of Eye company. Despite their losses, her father had promised to rebuild the unit, and she chose to help in her own way.
Her most important move was to take Jakub Day, Gerhardt’s son, under her wing. While still young, she helped both to train him as a MechWarrior and to teach him the skills that he would one day need, both as an officer and eventually as the leader of the unit. In many ways, she would become something of a surrogate parent to him, helping him to cope with the loss of his father. Under her tutelage, he would develop into a capable junior officer in his own right.
At the same time, she helped to integrate the members of the Addicks Planetary Guard that the Star had recruited into the unit. Key among them was Lana Kotovski, who in addition to being related (albeit distantly) to one of the Star’s founding families, was also a capable officer in her own right. The two did a lot to help rebuilt the unit, as well as to streamline its structure and deal with the complex morass of family politics that had dominated the unit.
In 3147, Calvin Morrison was killed in action. Rather than take control of the unit as expected, Katarina instead offered the position to Lana Kotovski, feeling that the unit needed her ideas and direction more. Lana accepted the position, but kept Katarina as her second. Aside from serving as the commander of Eye company, Katarina has continued to work with both Lana and Jakub, helping to bring the three families closer into alignment then they have been for years
WHM-8R Warhammer Enkidu
Mass: 70 tons
Chassis: Kell Reinforced 270 Endo Steel
Powerplant: Magna 280
Cruising Speed: 43 kph
Maximum Speed: 64 kph
Jump Jets: None
Jump Capacity: None
Armour: Durallex Heavy
Armament:
2 Fusigon Longtooth Extended Range PPCs
2 Magna Mk IV Extended Range Medium Lasers
2 Magna Mk VI Extended Range Small Lasers
2 LFN Linblad Machine Guns
1 Shannon SH-67 Streak SRM-6 Launcher
Comm System: Barret Party Line-200
T&T System: Wasat Watchdog W100
Katarina Morrison had piloted heavy BattleMechs for most of her career, moving between several different units based on what the unit had at hand at the time. Her current BattleMech, a WHM-8R Warhammer, was purchased near-new during the reorganisation of the unit. Katarina was immediately impressed by its combination of versatility, firepower and durability, and claimed the ‘Mech as her own.
While a company commander within the Star, Katarina prefers to lead her command from the front lines. On the battlefield, she has been known to take withering amounts of enemy fire and yet seemingly shrug it off and bring her BattleMech (and herself) back intact. While it has been severely damaged several times, so far the Warhammer has served her well and kept her alive on the battlefield, becoming a key part of the Star’s forces.
When she turned down the position of unit commander, Katarina also turned down the opportunity to pilot Gilgamesh, the Star’s hereditary BattleMaster. Instead she chose to keep her Warhammer, which she then named Enkidu as a nod of the head towards the commander’s machine. Some within the unit felt that she was tempting fate with the choice of name. Katarina privately agreed with their assessments, but at the same time, refused to reveal the reason for her choice of name.
-
Guest character by KayEmm
Jack Hennessey
Position/Rank: Lieutenant
Affiliation/Unit: Mercenary/Dark Suns
Birth Year: 3118
A gambler, adventurer, scoundrel and likely frequent liar, Jack Hennessey has managed to get by and indeed even succeed as much on skill and ability as simple luck.
Much of his past is questionable, and has to be taken on his claims rather than any solid evidence. He claims to have been born in the Marik-Stewart Commonwealth, but that most of the records of his background were lost or destroyed in the downfall of that nation. Supposedly of humble origins, he claims that he worked his way upwards on the back of his hard work. However, it is just as likely that his successes came simply by lying and cheating his way though life.
Jack claims to have trained at the Hero Training Institute, itself already a dubious organisation that focuses more on quantity of graduates and how much they pay for their education than any actual quality. If such was indeed the case then it would be a good match for Jack’s background and skills. Regardless of where he learned his trade, he proved to be a capable MechWarrior in his own right, showing not only skill with fast-moving and agile BattleMechs, but also considerable creativity in his battlefield tactics.
Having somehow escaped the fall of the Commonwealth, Hennessey managed to acquire a BattleMech through dubious and possibly illegal means. He found employment with several minor mercenary units, usually staying with them for a single contract before moving on. In several cases, his departure came under dubious circumstances, with Jack managing to only just stay ahead of his former employers. Despite this, he managed to remain confident and unshaken, continuing to play the part of the charming rogue.
His biggest break came in 3143 when he was hired by the Dark Suns. At that point the unit was rebuilding from its near-destruction, and its commander, Kari Moreno, could ill-afford to be picky in her recruits. While she was initially dubious of Jack as a person, he quickly proved his skills on the battlefield as a member of the unit’s restructured strike lance. In his first engagement with the unit on Bass, Jack managed to tie up a lance of Canopian heavy tanks that were more focused on him with his fast-moving, hit and fade attacks. This move created an opening for the Dark Suns’ heavier ‘Mechs to isolate and destroy the lance with little effort before hitting their objective.
Such tactics would serve him well in other battles as well, so much so that in 3145 Jack was promoted to take command of the unit’s Recon lance after a reshuffle of their roster. This move was both a recognition of his skills as well as a move by Kari Moreno to curb some of his more dubious personality traits by giving him added responsibilities. Surprisingly, Jack took well to the new role, maturing as both an officer and a person.
While his skills on the battlefield have been key to the Dark Suns’ successes, he has also aided the unit in a number of other ways. Jack has become infamous for his ‘scouting’ missions, which often involve him sneaking off for opportunities to gamble and carouse, bit also have proven to be an invaluable source of information for the unit. For example, on Kendall, one of these ‘missions’ created an opening for the Dark Suns to extract hostages and then remove a Marian force from the town that they were occupying.
Despite hiss freewheeling nature, Jack also knows when to restrain himself. While he does find Kari Moreno attractive, he has also chosen to restrain himself around her, figuring that flirting with his commander would not work out well. Recently he has begun a relationship with Kat Stavia, one of the Suns’ other officers, with Jack so far proving to be oddly sincere towards her.
PXH-9 Phoenix Hawk Venom II
Mass: 45 tons
Chassis: Earthworks PXH II Endo Steel
Powerplant: Hermes 270 XL
Cruising Speed: 64 kph
Maximum Speed: 96 kph
Jump Jets: 45i Improved Jump jets
Jump Capacity: 240 meters
Armour: Durallex Light with CASE II
Armament:
Diverse Optics Type 35PX Large X-Pulse Laser
2 Harmon Medium Lasers
2 Sperry/Browning Machine Guns
Comm System: Tek Battlecomm
T&T System: Tek Tru-Track
When Jack Hennessey joined the Dark Suns, he bought with him a PHX-3D Phoenix Hawk that he had nicknamed Venom. Much like its pilot, there were a number of questions hanging over the BattleMech’s head. While Jack claimed that he had won the ‘Mech in a card game, suspicions arose first that he had cheated and then that he might not have even acquired it that way at all. And while Venom’s serial number did match to a known ‘Mech, that unit also had holes in its service history, including the years before Jack supposedly won it.
Regardless of these questions, there was little doubt as to Jack’s skills with the BattleMech. In his hands, Venom was a fast-moving, agile and responsive platform, with Jack using its mobility to flank and harass enemies. He was particularly skilled with its jump jets, able to maintain accurate fire while in motion while also avoiding hiss opponents. Jack’s own risky habits would, for the most part, pay off, allowing him to pull off moves that others would have balked at.
Despite his skill, Venom was destroyed by Jade Falcon forces during the Arcturus debacle. Not wanting to see him remain dispossessed, Kari Moreno acquired a new PXH-9 as a replacement. While having less firepower than the prior version, Jack appreciated the new model for its expanded mobility and the devastating accuracy of its pulse lasers. As a nod of the head towards his prior machine, he dubbed the new ‘Mech Venom II.
-
Shamus Flannigan
Position/Rank: Centurion
Affiliation/Unit: Marian Hegemony/III Legio
Birth Year: 3122
From the moment of his birth, Shamus Flannigan was fighting to advance himself against his circumstances. Born to a poor farming family on Algenib, he had few opportunities for advancement in the highly stratified Marian society. Rather than spending his life working the land for a marginal existence, he chose to enlist with the MHAF, seeing it as being his only real option to get ahead in life.
His plan would bear almost immediate fruit. Rather than becoming an infantryman or tank crew as expected, Shamus showed skills as a MechWarrior that saw him recommended for further training. With the recent reformation of the Free Worlds League, the Hegemony was looking to expand the readiness of its forces and could ill-afford to overlook such opportunities, regardless of the social standing of such recruits. Consequentially, Shamus would graduate as a MechWarrior and be assigned to a position within III Legio Limitanei.
This would prove to be a boon to Shamus, as the unit was one of the most active within the Hegemony’s ranks. III Legio was engaged in constant raids targeted at the Free Worlds League, ones that were supposedly aimed at gathering resources and supplies for the Hegemony while gathering information on their enemies. In practice, however, the unit would engage in unrestrained looting of their targets for whatever luxury goods they could carry off. For Shamus, these raids proved to be a boon, with him using his position to line his pockets. When not deployed and despite being in military service, he soon found that he was living a far more comfortable life than he had at home.
The combination of Shamus’ skills as a MechWarrior as well as his obvious greed bought him to the attention of his immediate commander, Principes Zebidiah Craine. The two of them quickly formed an alliance of mutual convenience; Shamus would provide Craine with information and rumours from among the rank and file members of the Legion. In turn, Craine would ensure that Shamus would be well rewarded, and would do his best to aid his career. While his advancement was limited due to plebian background, Shamus quickly found himself promoted to the rank of centurion as a result of his efforts.
This alliance would pay off for the pair of them during the debacle on Kendall, where III Legio’s forces were defeated by the Dark Suns mercenary force. After the Legion retreated off-world with considerable casualties and little to show for it, Shamus helped manufacture evidence to redirect blame for the failure. With his aid, Zebidiah Craine and Legatus Jamaal Sleen were able to frame the conveniently deceased Principes Troy Traviss for the loss while protecting their own positions. Shamus was further rewarded by Craine, receiving a not-inconsiderable payout from what bounty they were able to take.
Despite this boon, Shamus found that his career had stalled in the aftermath. Lacking the social standing or title to advance further, he realised that he was effectively stranded at the rank of Centurion. As such, he enthusiastically supported the Hegemony’s invasion of the Free Worlds League, seeing an opportunity to line his own pockets from the expected plunder, if nothing else.
On Gibraltar, Shamus would prove his worth on the battlefield, using his Firestarter to wreak havoc on the militia forces that the Legion faced. However, once the world was supposedly secured, he found that his dreams of wealth fell far short of reality as he and the rest of the Legion were first caught in a protracted guerrilla war against insurgents, and then cut off and isolated from the rest of the Hegemony. As a result, for the moment, he remains in the field, hoping for the day that the Legion’s situation improves.
FS9-M2 Firestarter
Mass: 35 tons
Chassis: Foundation Ultralight Endo Steel
Powerplant: GM 210
Cruising Speed: 64 kph
Maximum Speed: 97 kph
Jump Jets: Luxor Load Lifters
Jump Capacity: 180 meters
Armour: Durallex Nova
Armament:
6 Hotshot Flamers
1 Defiance Model XII ER Medium Laser
Comm System: Cyclops 14
T&T System: Cyclops 9
The Firestarter was initially developed as a specialised incendiary warfare ‘Mech, employed in both scorched-earth and anti-infantry roles. While a number of variations exist, almost all of them retain the BattleMech’s distinctive flamer armament. The FS9-M2 variant, developed for the mercenary and Periphery markets, takes this choice to its logical extreme, mounting half a dozen flamers at the expense of almost all of its other weapons.
The example piloted by Shamus Flannigan had been purchased new, and had since passed through several MechWarriors before he was assigned to it. While disappointed at being issued a light BattleMech, and such a specialised one at that, Shamus was determined to make the most of his situation. He practiced hard with his BattleMech in order to master its abilities in the hope that he would be promoted or rewarded with a heavier machine. In particular he became adept at using its flamers to maximum effect against both their intended targets and other BattleMechs.
During the Kendall debacle, these skills proved to be invaluable not only for him, but for the entire cohort. On several occasions he started massive grass fires, both to distract enemies and to create cover for the Marians’ movements, especially during their forced retreat. In his most daring move, he crippled and very nearly disabled Kari Moreno’s Black Knight by consonantly bathing the heavy BattleMech in flames, pushing it towards shutdown. The move nearly cost him his own BattleMech and his life, but helped to slow the Dark Suns and buy time for his cohort to escape.
-
Guest chapter by KayEmm
Seeing a Man about a Dog
Montenegro District, Solaris City
Solaris VII
Wolf Empire
3 September 3150
It was raining in Solaris City. It always rained in Solaris City.
The brilliant neons of the buildings and adverts reflected on the drenched streets, creating a vibrant kaleidoscope that contrasted with the stark greys of the buildings. Advertisements of all kinds blurred together, covering everything from soft drinks to military weapons. However, in among all that color, one symbol stood out.
An orange wolf’s head.
It was a symbol that Ariel Lamicheck was very much aware of as they quietly made their way along the street. Head down, hands in their pockets, they didn’t stand out, which was exactly what they wanted right now. Rather than being a somewhat infamous contender, for the moment they were simply another nighttime pedestrian making their way home in the rain.
This part of Montenegro was better than others, which was a statement that amounted to damning with faint praise. It largely consisted of same-y, grey blocks, built cheaply with an eye to functionality rather than any aesthetic appeal. The buildings were drab, worn and grimy, with little to distinguish them beyond their blinking neons. Those people on the street very rarely paid any attention to their fellows, instead keeping their heads down and making their way to their destinations.
Ariel headed into one building, again with only a sign to make it stand out from all the others around it. Inside was a bar that was every bit as drab and functional as its surroundings. Dimly lit, its furniture and fittings were functional. The few patrons didn’t pay them any heed as they entered, instead remaining fixed on their drinks. Above all else, it was quiet, with only the most minimal of muted conversations.
After a perfunctory engagement to get a drink from the bar, Ariel took a place in one of the side booths. Only a few minutes later, a man sat down opposite them. Rough featured with close-cropped dark hair, his face was pockmarked and accentuated by a ragged, half-missing ear. “Ariel Lamicheck,” he began. “Glad you could make it.”
“I had nothing better to do with my time,” they replied, their tone cautiously neutral.
“You made quite a splash with that last match of yours,” he continued. “I gather that Star Captain Jerund was not thrilled with you before it, and even less thrilled afterwards.”
Ariel shrugged. “I don’t know if they took offence at my words, my choice of ‘Mech or my fashion. Either way, they picked a fight.”
“Now why would he be upset about a jacket with a wolf-fur collar,” he chuckled. “Either way, you dealt him a humiliating defeat.”
“He had it coming.”
“As did the other Wolves that you have also defeated recently, I assume.”
Ariel gave a nonchalant shrug. “They feel like they can challenge anyone at any time. I just took them up on that offer.”
“And in doing so you made a few enemies.”
“If they can’t take a loss, they shouldn’t have challenged me in the first place,” Ariel simply replied.
“Aren’t you worried that this could backfire on you?”
“My concern is dealing with my real opponents. The Wolves are just a distraction.”
“And yet, you seem to put a lot of time into deliberately annoying our beloved protectors,” he continued with another rueful challenge. “Someone might think you didn’t enjoy their benevolent guidance.”
“Do you have a point here?” Ariel asked, a hint of impatience coloring their tone.
The man glanced around for a moment before leaning inwards. “You are not the only person who isn’t thrilled with the state of affairs here.”
“So I had gathered,” Ariel noted.
“I have… friends who could be helpful to you,” he continued. “And in turn you could be helpful to them.”
“What sort of help are we talking about?”
“Parts, supplies and tech that the Wolves have tried to cut off the flow of,” he explained. “Everything you need to get an edge over your opponents.”
“And in return?”
“Your position as a rising star gives you access to people and places,” the man suggested. “Especially with the upcoming Tharonja’s Bacon Cup.”
“I see what you’re saying here,” Ariel nodded. “I think that we might have similar goals here. And I would like to hear more.”
-
Putting on a Show
Dhruma
Al Jubalyah
15 September 3150
As she sat in the cockpit of her Cataphract, Lanie King couldn’t help but give a quiet sigh. There are some traditions of the trade that I could do without, she quietly considered as she examined her surroundings. I understand why I'm here, but I’d still rather be anywhere else.
Not that her BattleMech showed even the slightest hint of that reluctance. Instead, the towering war machine proceeded on its way, slowly walking through the city streets. Around her she could see the low-rise buildings that typified Dhruma, along with the plethora of tent-like awnings that stretched out over its footpaths. And while she couldn’t see them from up here, she knew that under those awnings there would be crowds of people, watching her and cheering her on.
Not just me, Lanie reminded herself. The rest of King’s Tigers were formed up behind her, parading through the streets in a slow pace. Her Cataphract headed up the other BattleMechs of Lion Company, with the tanks of Jaguar Company behind them. Following those were the mixture of light APCs and battle armour that made up Wildcat Company, including a quartet of VTOLs that were buzzing overhead.
There was no doubting that they made for an impressive sight. The Tigers’ units had all been fresh painted for the parade, sporting an appropriate desert tan camouflage scheme that was broken up only by the tiger-stripe splashes on their flanks. And that was, of course the entire point of this display.
Her unit had been hired for a garrison and training contract by the planetary government, there both to help protect from pirate attacks and other forms of depredation while also helping to prepare the planetary guard to better do the same. As a part of that deal, the Al Jubalyah government had requested that her unit take part in a parade through the capitol on their arrival. Lanie could fully understand why; such a high-visibility act sent a clear message. To the people, it said ‘these forces are here to protect you’, a move aimed at building confidence and loyalty. And to prospective enemies, it said ‘these forces are here to stop you. Come after us at your on risk.'
But just because she understood it didn’t mean she had to like it. Pomp and ceremony was one thing, but she preferred the practical, tangible side of her job.
At least it wasn’t physically uncomfortable. Compared to the normal heat of a BattleMech cockpit in the middle of a battle, right now her Cataphract was largely cool. Walking at a slow pace without any weapons fire meant that the reactor was only needing a fraction of its output. In all likelihood, it was hotter outside then in.
Something I’m about to test firsthand.
Her Cataphract reached a pre-designated point, with Lanie slowing it to a halt. Behind her, the rest of the Tigers similarly stopped their machines, forming an impressive row of military hardware. With practiced ease, Laine switched her BattleMech over to standby mode, before removing her neurohelmet. The rest of the Tigers would still be on standby, their ‘Mechs ready to go in a second. And while it was incredibly unlikely that such a contingency would be needed, it paid to be ready.
Wouldn’t be the first time that we’d needed such a plan either, she noted. Getting up from the command couch, Lanie quickly donned a functional field jumpsuit, itself a dull olive drab save for the unit insignia and rank badges. Then, taking one last breath, she opened the ‘Mech’s canopy.
Ahead of her lay the governmental palace, an elaborate, sprawling and yet graceful building, made up of a series of white domes surrounded by more tent-like awnings. The building practically gleamed in the sun, to the point that she had to shield her eyes as she looked over it. But that was not what held her attention; rather it was the quartet of soldiers at the base of the ‘Mech, each one clad in a colourful dress uniform.
She climbed down to meet them, exchanging crisp salutes as she did. They formed a square around her, marching her towards a canopy-covered podium at the front of the palace, where a group of men were waiting. Some of them were clad in clearly well-made, custom tailored robes, while others wore crisp military uniforms. To their credit, not a single one of them showed any signs of discomfort in the noonday sun.
One of them came over to her as she joined them. In his late fifties, his handsome face was still lined from years of living in such a climate, as well as showing signs of actual combat experience. “Mullah Khairi el-Matar,” she began, giving a crisp salute while using his title. A theocracy was not the most common of governmental models, but she showed no discomfort at the unfamiliarity. “It is an honour to meet you.”
He returned it in kind, a smile on his face as he did. “The honour is mine, Major King.”
She was guided to her place at the podium, looking down at the crowd before her. The front rows were dominated by a combination of military uniforms and those in civilian clothes, but again, more wealthy styles predominated. She took a deep breath before she spoke.
“The people of Al Jubalyah have always valued their independence,” she began, her tone crisp and clear. “Once a part of the Principality of Regulus, you fought for your freedom from that state. From there you were determined to plot your own course, one that you would maintain as an independent power for the next five centuries. While you were a part of the Free Worlds League, you were also free to control your own affairs.”
“With the collapse of the League, your people chose to remain independent of the new states that emerged. Despite the depredations of the Regulans and other powers, you would maintain that independence for generations, forging your own identity and controlling your own destiny. And even after the reformation of the League, you chose to continue that path, staying independent rather than being forced under another’s control.”
“Yours is a proud tradition, and that is why we are here. King’s Tigers will help to protect that independence, and ensure that nobody will take it from you. Not the League, not the Magistracy or anyone else. Your homes, your families, your lives will remain safe and your futures will remain your own. It is our honour to protect your traditions, and we will strive to ensure that your freedom will continue.”
There was a pause, and then a brief, polite round of applause. Lanie gave the slightest of nods to the crowd, before heading back to her seat. The Mullah gave her a nod, congratulating her on an effective speech before he took his place where she had been.
Compared to her short and punchy speech, his was long and rambling. And she knew that it would only be the start. After this would be a formal reception at the palace for her and her officers, one that would doubtless see them meet a veritable parade of nobles, religious figures, dignitaries, military officers and so on, each trying to press on her their particular case, tell her how she should best protect their assets or how to deploy her forces or whatever other issue they felt she should be addressing.
Right now, Miho would be doing the actual hard work in setting up their encampment; moving supplies and equipment, getting their crews settled in, preparing work schedules and so on. Lanie couldn’t help but feel a little envious of her wife, knowing full well that she’d rather be there with her than here.
-
Guest chapter by Zogster
From the personal journal of Lana Kotovski
Our campaign has come to a conclusion, and I can confidently say we have routed the Crow Brothers Gang. The unit fought well and I’m proud of everyone’s performance. More than that, the intelligence that Antonin Rybak offered proved invaluable in tracking them down. I had my doubts about his motives, but I’m willing to put them aside. He’s proven his intentions for this alliance, and I for one am happy to back it.
Our unit landed on Haggard and immediately set about tracking down the Crow Brothers to their home base. They held a loose control of the world through the populace’s fear, which made it easy to win the locals’ assistance by committing to rid them of the gang. This in turn led us swiftly to their home base.
The Crow Brothers had hunkered down in an old city, dating back to the Star League. It was only barely populated, and most of the buildings were crumbling and in decay. Given the hazardous nature of the battlefield, I deployed Eye company, backed up by my own command lance. Their combination of heavy tanks, battle armour and mobile BattleMechs would be able to make the best use of the terrain. Of course, it was impossible to mask the approach of such a force, so it wasn’t long before we made contact.
The pace of the battle was quickly set when the enemy’s VTOL support descended upon us. No doubt intending to soften us up, they all but flew into a wall of flak that took out two of them straight away. In spectacular fashion, Jakub’s second Wen used his Nightsky’s hatchet to swat one of the VTOLs straight out of the air. The unit as a whole has been cheering about this amazing display since. I can hear them replaying the battleROM as I write this.
Jakub’s lance in particular distinguished themselves. Jakub himself intercepted a flanking manoeuvre from Daisy Crow’s Cronus, driving her off after she had sown havoc among Comet Command’s tanks. She tried to lead him back to their own armour units, but he turned the tables with his own lance following him. They worked together magnificently, scattering the armour and crippling Daisy’s own 'Mech. Even when Jimmy Crow’s Hunchback joined the fray, it was quickly destroyed.
I’m proud of Jakub’s performance. I feel he really showed what he’s capable of as a leader today, and I can only hope his commander agrees.
That is of course not to put paid to our other members’ accomplishments. Despite Daisy’s interference, Comet Command rallied and bore down on the Crow’s tanks. Already scattered from their previous encounter, they came under withering fire that wiped out all but a few lighter vehicles. Watching our Hanse melting one of their Vedettes right into the pavement must have been demoralising.
What came as a particular surprise was seeing their heaviest vehicle, a Demolisher, destroyed by precision fire from one of our battle armour units. Although I’m sad to report they did suffer casualties, I think their performance has put to rest doubts about their inclusion in our roster. The Star needs to modernise, and expanding our battle armour division is an important step forward.
My own lance fared well. While I positioned us mostly in a support role, we did see direct combat when Zebediah’s Bandersnatch engaged us, no doubt hoping to disable our command element. Instead, Payton’s Gallowgas and I concentrated our fire and swiftly eliminated him. That’s not to say everything went well; Andreas’ Crusader suffered severe damage while he was struggling with his leg-mounted missiles, and a few of Zebediah’s own shots came dangerously close to Gilgamesh’s cockpit. My head’s still reeling a bit from those.
But overall, I can call this battle a rousing success. Although Zebediah was killed in action, we were able to capture the rest of the Crow brothers – even if it meant digging Luke’s Firestarter out from under a collapsed building. And while a few of their light tanks and infantry fled, I can confidently say that their threat is at an end. The people of the Timbuktu Collective will not suffer their deprivations any longer.
Beyond that, I can say that this was a roaring success for the Star of Sumer, and not just on the battlefield. Despite the recent transition, I feel that we’ve come together stronger than we were before. There’s still a way to go, as I intend to continue updating and expanding the unit. But I feel our victory here has shown we’re on the right path.
The Crow Brothers had built themselves their own little empire on Haggard, one I’m happy to see put to an end. They even had their own mock palace in the city hall. Although we found a little more beyond what was evident as we went through the place. What little they had documented suggested a connection to the Ghost Flames, a pirate band that has been growing all the more dangerous in the current chaos. Of course, given the way they operate, that alliance may not have been entirely voluntary. I’ll certainly be interested to know what Rybak makes of this information.
Still, all is done for now. We’re heading home to repair and regroup. The Star are in good spirits, and I’m not going to waste the evening cooped up in my cabin. Besides, Katarina salvaged an excellent bottle of spirits, and we have a lot to celebrate.
-
Start the Violence
Caledonian Highlands
Castor
Wolf Empire
23 September, 3150
There was a lot that Alexis Fairchild didn’t like about the situation.
She took a sideways glance out of the cockpit of her Mad Cat, noting the ‘Mech walking besides it. Like her machine, and the rest of her unit, Antonin Rybak’s Phoenix Hawk IIC had been painted in the blue scheme of Magyari’s Irregulars, a unit that was supposedly their ally, as well as being on the world as the same time. Her technicians had even gone so far as to duplicate the scheme of Irisz’ Invisible Space Fairy as best as they could on her own Thirteen. She understood the logic of what they were doing, but there was still something about doing it to their own allies that was distasteful.
But that was not all that bothered her right now. “Confirmed,” the voice of Ravager Five crackled over the channel. “Have IDs on light and medium armour; no BattleMechs, no signs of battle armour either. Wolf markings, doesn’t seem to match to a known unit.”
All of which was wrong to her. Here, on the very edge of the Wolf Empire’s thrust to Terra, there should be something more. A BattleMech force, even if it was a garrison unit made from salvage would make sense, but this didn’t fit that profile at all.
None the less, she had a job to do.
“Ravager Lead to all units,” Alexis Fairchild began, her tone blunt. “Fire at will.”
She opened up the throttle on her Mad Cat, the seventy-five ton OmniMech surging forwards. Ahead lay their objective; a supply depot notable only for a series of low-lying bunkers, nestled in among the hills. Already her recon elements were engaged with the Wolf forces, with flashes of weapon fire in the distance. Her display was lighting up with contacts that matched her recon reports.
The ‘Mechs of her unit took point, supported by a swarm of hovercraft that were loaded with troops. Her sensors tagged several units, with a Wolf Ares being the closest. With only a moment’s consideration she lined up a shot, sending a pair of brilliant beams from her large lasers reaching out towards the medium tank. The shots struck home, slicing armour from the vehicle’s side and turret.
A second Ares joined it, its own laser lashing out with a poorly-aimed shot that went well wide of her. A second later, the tank was pummelled by a swarm of missiles from Rybak’s Phoenix Hawk. As the fire and smoke cleared, the vehicle was left battered, with one of its treads torn apart.
Realising their situation, the tanks’ crew tried to backpedal, trying to compensate for their reduced mobility. That retreat lasted only a moment before the vehicle was seared by a stream of superheated plasma fire that cut through its remaining armour. Something within the vehicle touched off as gouts of flame erupted from the far side of the tank, leaving it dead on its tracks.
Alexis gave the vaguest of nods towards Ravager Five’s Firestarter before it jetted away, leaving her to concentrate on the situation at hand. Her Mad Cat exchanged another volley of fire with the first Ares, with two beams for its one. While the Ares managed to slice some armour from her side, her response was more dramatic, as beams tore through the tank’s side. With the target disabled, she pushed forwards onto the site proper.
An incoming message caught her attention for a moment. “We’re in.” She instantly recognised Nate’s voice, and knew what he meant. “No resistance so far. Proceeding to objective.” Which meant that her plan had worked. As the Wolf tanks clashed with her force, they would have been drawn away from her true objective.
“Understood. We will buy you time.” She fired her jump jets, clearing a row of low warehouses as she moved deeper into the facility. Immediately her Mad Cat was greeted by cannon fire, with shell fragments scraping into its hull. The culprit revealed itself as an ungainly Ishtar tank, the front-heavy vehicle lurking half around a corner.
Breaking into a run as soon as she was down, Alexis dropped her sights onto the Wolf vehicle. She ripple-fired her main weapons, feeling a wave of heat wash over her. Two large lasers seared into the tank’s hull before flights of missiles pummelled into its side. The Ishtar weathered the assault but not gracefully, with one of its almost comically oversized wheels clearly blasted out of alignment.
Nonetheless, the heavy tank held its ground, turning as best it could to bring its weapons to bear. The twin main cannons spat fire, with shots slamming into the Mad Cat’s armour. A flight of missiles joined them, the majority flying past Alexis’ OmniMech to little effect.
As she wheeled around, a second contact grabbed her attention. A Vedette had moved up to join the Ishtar, adding its autocannon to the hail of incoming fire. The shots tore through the concrete by her side, more distracting then dangerous. Giving an angry grunt, she chose to ignore the smaller tank for the moment, concentrating on its more dangerous counterpart.
Moving to take advantage of its reduced mobility, she kept to the tank’s side to limit its usable firepower. The Ishtar’s turret tracked her, its twin cannons again unleashing their deadly loads; however, between her mobility and the clear inexperience of the crew, only a few fragmentary shots slammed into her armour.
Alexis’ response was more solid in its effect. Swapping out her weapons, she instead unleashed a quartet of lasers at the Ishtar. Brilliant beams sliced through the already damaged flank, tearing off the drive wheel and then burrowing into the tank’s side. The rear of the tank erupted into flame as its ammunition detonated, blowing out armour and leaving it shaking. Seeing what had happened to its larger counterpart, the Vedette quickly began to backpedal to avoid destruction.
Instead it had only a moment’s respite as the Phoenix Hawk IIC landed behind it, unleashing a swift kick to the back of the tank. The force of the blow lifted the Vedette up for a moment as its rear was caved in, shattering armour and the vital systems within. It then came down with a crash, clearly disabled.
“We have the objective,” Nate’s voice again cut into the channel.
“Understood,” Alexis nodded as she spoke. “Witnesses?”
“None left.”
That was another thing she didn’t like, but also understood the necessity of. “Good. Pickup will be waiting for you.”
With a pile of destroyed vehicles, dead crews and pillaged supplies, the Wolves hopefully wouldn’t notice the very specific deaths of the personnel in the bunkers. Nor would they notice the data that had been stolen from their systems.
One less thing for Alexis to worry about.
-
From the personal journal of Irisz Magyari
When I started the Renegades alliance, I knew that we would be fighting the Wolf Empire. It doesn’t take a genius to realise that Rybak sees them as the biggest threat before us, both to the Republic in specific and the rest of the Inner Sphere as a whole. I know that one of the reasons he approached me was for my prior experience with fighting them. What we achieved on Thermopolis, Kalidasa, Shasta and even Ashburton may be small victories, but they are more than many can speak of.
So when he organised the raid on Castor, I was not surprised. Nor was a surprised by the reason why we were targeting that specific world. Beyond the extraction of his ‘assets’, the world had changed hands multiple times in quick succession; claimed by the Wolves, then retaken by the Republic, then once more recaptured by the Wolves. His ‘assets’ would have a wealth of intel to offer that would be invaluable to what is to come.
Even then, I was surprised by how it unfolded and perhaps somewhat worried. Not because it went badly, but rather, because it went too well.
We split into two groups for our assault. My unit was acting as the distraction to draw the Wolves’ attention, while Fairchild and Rybak went after his real objectives. To make it worth our while, he had given us several legitimate objectives in the form of parts and supplies storage depots that the Wolves would need for whatever they were planning next. On top of that, he had advised that the Wolves had netted a considerable supply of RAF salvage that could include experimental technology. Recovering it would then be valuable to both of us.
I should have known that something was amiss during our insertion. While the expected force was a cluster from the Wolves' Theta Galaxy, one made up of former AMSC men and materials, we saw no signs of that on approach. Instead we were not intercepted until we were on final approach, when we were bounced by several flights of conventional fighters. Our own aerospace forces drove them off with little effort, allowing us to make it down unharmed.
I led the unit on a strike on a large supply depot, one that had been previously used by the RAF. We made contact with Wolf forces, but it wasn’t Theta or any other known unit. Instead what we faced was a trinary made up entirely of vehicles, supported by conventional infantry. And these weren’t even top-tier vehicles, instead being a mix of AMSC salvage, older Clan designs and even some SLDF units.
To their credit, the Wolves fought bravely, but their skills were lacking. They were poorly coordinated, and their tactics were little more than trying to swarm us with weight of numbers. Many of them lost control on the tarmac around the facility, and I think they did more damage to the warehouses by accident then we did deliberately. They retreated when they lost three-quarters of their force, including leaving a number of disabled tanks on the field and yielding the warehouses to us.
Our losses? Two BattleMechs disabled but all repairable. Two VTOLs down, but their crews rescued. And one of Maria’s troopers was injured when a skidding tank crashed into his suit.
Wary of reinforcements, we rounded up the surviving Wolf crews for questioning while salvaging our equipment and stripping the facility for anything of worth. Far from the massive stockpiles we were expecting, we instead found that it largely had a functional supply intended to keep a conventional armoured force going. Likewise, there was no trace of any RAF material.
Questioning of the prisoners revealed that they were a part of a solahma garrison unit that had been left behind when Alpha Galaxy lifted off, and that they were the only force on the planet. No other unit had been rotated in, and they were not expecting to see any other forces in the immediate future. When questioned as to where the rest of the Wolves were, the prisoners could not answer. They were as much in the dark as we were.
We received a confirmation from Rybak that he had secured his objectives and lifted off. While we still made a ‘profit’ off our haul, it’s a lot less than I had hoped for, and we’re going to have to do a lot of careful horse-trading to get what we need out of it. More worrying to me, however, is the missing Wolves. Those units had to have gone somewhere. The question is, where?
-
Guest chapter by KayEmm
The Smith
Karlshof
Westerstede
Jade Falcon Occupation Zone
15 October 3150
When the Jade Falcons had occupied Westerstede, there had been a thorough accounting of its resources. Most of what it had to offer was quickly claimed and repurposed by the Clan for their own use in future conquests as was the natural order of things; eventually, everything served the Warrior Caste and their needs. Those resources that were not immediately useful were simply left as is, with the people of the world left to go about their lives as best they could.
One thing in the list of resources had caught Kia Malthus’ eye; something that had been passed over because it had no use at all to the Clan. She’d tracked it down to a small town located outside of the planet’s capitol; a place that had little value otherwise with an economy that was based around crafts and niche handcrafted goods. None of that had any real value to the Clan, and its people were clearly aware of it.
Which meant that they were, to a man, shocked when Kia’s Star had simply walked into the town. Many had feared the worst, but yet, instead of flattening the town or anything else, Kia had instead simply asked to talk to a few people. After a short, tense meeting, she had come to an agreement with them regarding one of those seemingly useless resources.
The next day she had arrived on her own, travelling in a requisitioned truck rather than her OmniMech. Once there, she headed into the town’s forge; a traditional setup that had been used for a variety of craft projects. All she had asked for was the peace to work undisturbed, in return, she wouldn’t bother anyone else.
That had of course come with the caveat that if she failed to report in, her Trinary would come and wipe the village from the map.
She came in, spent some time working at the forge, and then left. Nobody had bothered her; nobody had even spoken to her. Her only real contact had been to speak to one of the people in charge of the forge to thank them for their time, and to say that she would be back.
True to her word, she returned again a week later, and then a third time a week after that. Each time she simply went to the forge to work for a few hours and then departed. She didn’t interact with anyone, and in turn, nobody bothered her. Instead, she simply worked.
While Kia enjoyed what she was doing, that wasn’t the only reason why she did what she did. Working at the forge like this helped her to clear her mind and achieve a calm that her usual situation didn’t permit.
She was taking a breather when something caught her eye; a flicker of movement. In an instant she turned, one hand on the pistol at her side. Her eyes fixed on the target; a boy, scruffy-haired and likely no more than twelve years old. Every instinct told Kia that he was no threat, but there was still that nagging doubt in her mind.
Would it really be below freebirths to use a child as a suicide bomber? If something happened to her, then everyone here would be killed in response. And the sort of people who would try something that dishonorable would likely not care for the consequences.
“What are you doing here?” she demanded.
“I-” the boy stammered. “I left some of my stuff here,” he finally offered. “This is where my dad works.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Did your father not tell you to stay away from here?”
“Yeah but,” the child stammered. “I wanted to see what you were doing here.”
Kia relaxed a little. “I was making a sword.”
“Cool,” the child managed. “My dad makes stuff, but nothing cool like that.”
She couldn’t help but smile a little in response, even if it twisted her scars a little. “It is a hobby of mine.”
“You’re a Clan MechWarrior, right?” The child continued. “Does your ‘Mech have a sword?”
“It does not,” Kia admitted. Unlike many of her fellow Falcons, she had little interest in BattleMech melee combat. And while in theory she could have talons fitted to her Jade Phoenix, she had never really considered the idea.
“If I was a MechWarrior, I would have a sword on my ‘Mech.”
“I suppose so,” she shrugged.
The child was quiet a moment, even as she kept a wary eye on him. “My dad says that Clan people come out of tubes. Is that true?”
That should have sounded insulting, but she couldn’t help but chortle instead. “Sort of,” Kia explained. “It is complicated.”
“Does that mean you don’t have parents?”
There was a part of her that was wincing at the child’s terminology. The idea of parents was both familiar and alien at the same time. After all, only freebirths had parents. As a trueborn, she was the product of combined DNA samples mixed in the iron womb, long after both her genetic parents were dead.
But that would all likely go over the child’s head. “I do have parents. I was made from their genetic material in… a tube.” That almost sounded comical.
“Was your dad a MechWarrior too?”
Both of Kia’s geneparents had been male, which made that question hard to manage. “Yes,” was the best she could offer.
“Do you have any brothers or sisters?”
She had to pause for breath at his question. Of course she had literally dozens of sibkin, but one of them always stuck in her mind. Amera. The only person in the universe that Kia could actually talk to, and the only one who would let her actually be herself.
And whose death had been a devastating blow.
“Lots of them,” Kia finally finished.
“Are any of them around here?”
“No.” That was about as uncomplicated and honest an answer as she could give.
“Oh,” the child seemed almost disappointed as he looked around. “I probably should go before my dad finds me.” He shot a nervous glance at her. “Um, could you please not tell him I was here?”
That produced an audible chortle, something she did not expect. “I will not say a thing.” Her tone was almost playful now. The idea of this shared secret between the two of them was odd, but she enjoyed the idea. While she and this child were in no way equals, it reminded her so much of her and Ame’s shared, quiet moments. Which was really the reason she was here: to recapture that calm.
“Of course,” she finished.
The child gave a final nod. “Thanks.” He finished before he ducked out of the door.
Kia gave a quiet sigh to herself before turning back to her work. As much of a distraction as the child had been, there had been something enjoyable about the whole process. And, in a strange way, she looked forward to the idea that he might come back the next time she was here.
The beeping of her communicator took her attention. “Aff?" she began as she answered.
“Star Captain,” the voice of her commander was clear, their tone making it clear that whatever this was would be important. “Return to your unit and prepare for departure immediately.”
Kia glanced around the room. Wherever we are going, I may never see this place again. Taking a breath, she replied. “Immediately, Star Colonel.”
-
Audio Log #76714-Rho
Irisz Magyari: You wanted to talk?
Antonin Rybak: It’s something I found in the data we recovered from Castor, actually. I thought it would be useful to you.
Magyari: I could use some good news.
Rybak: Did something come up? Some unexpected problem from Castor?
Magyari: The salvage we pulled from the supply depot was a lot less than expected. It’s still profitable, but not fantastically such.
Rybak: I see. I’m afraid to say that what I have for you is very mixed as well.
Magyari: I should have guessed. Lay it on me then.
Rybak: Actually, it’s about your father. We found some information as to where he’s been for the last fifteen years.
[pause]
Magyari: I [pause] did not expect that.
Rybak: And I admit that it’s not fantastic either.
Magyari: Honestly, I’ve been expecting the worst for some time now. As much as I wanted to think that he was alive, I also have had to face certain realities.
Rybak: I’m sorry. If this is a bad time, it can wait.
Magyari: Might as well lay it on me.
Rybak: Bors Magyari was captured by the RAF when they shut down the Outreach Revival after the walls went up. After being interned, he was then drafted into the newly formed Twelfth Triarii Protectors, where he served as both a MechWarrior and an instructor.
Magyari: I see. That... that makes a lot of sense, really. Even if he would be on the… older side of the unit. I mean, it’s been fifteen years now.
Rybak: Unfortunately, there’s more.
Magyari: I suspected as such. This is not going to end well, is it?
Rybak: No, uh, [pause] the Twelfth Triarii were on Gacrux in April when the unit was attacked by at least four Wolf clusters. It was reported that the Wolves deliberately killed the unit to the last man.
[pause]
Rybak: I’m sorry.
Magyari: I really don’t know what I expected. I mean, with all that has happened and all… I guess I just held out the hope that he might still be alive somehow.
Rybak: I wish I could give you more.
Magyari: Honestly, it’s more than I had hoped for. Thank you for that.
Rybak: It’s the least I could do. This datachip has everything on it that I was able to find.
Magyari: Thanks. I, uh [pause] I need to talk to some people. It might be a while.
Rybak: Take all the time you need, Irisz.
-
Mercenary Book Club
Dropship Arkham Bridge
Inbound, Illyria
Illyrian Province, Marian Hegemony
15 November 3150
“Hey Ronnie,” Terry McKinnon spoke up. “You ever read any Joseph Stefaniou?”
“I’m from the Periphery. I can barely read as it is,” Ronnie Raymond replied.
“They’re only some of the greatest works of post-Free Worlds League literature.”
“What is this, a book club?” Ronnie snorted. “Besides, I didn’t take you for the heavy literature type.”
“I’m not,” Terry admitted. “I found some of his novels stashed in a locker on the ship once. Gave me something to do during a long transit.”
“Should have figured,” Ronnie couldn’t help but chuckle.
“Thing is, there’s a connection to the unit in those books.”
“There is?”
“Oh yeah,” Terry nodded. “Stefaniou was a member of the Marauders during the thirty-fifties. He wrote early drafts of his books while on contracts.”
“Get out.”
“I’m serious,” he continued. “It's unit history and everything. Apparently he based chunks of his novels on people who were in the unit at the time and things they did.”
“Huh.”
“And get this. During his time with the unit, he lead a recon-strike lance,” Terry finished. “So I’m basically sitting in his proverbial seat.”
“Clear channel,” Damien McKinnon’s voice cut in to the conversation. While it was a broad command, it was also clear who the order was directed to.
Carefully avoiding saying what was on his mind, Terry McKinnon instead sat back in his command couch before glancing over his Phoenix Hawk’s cockpit one last time. Right now he had nothing left to do but wait as the Arkham Bridge burned in, its precious cargo of men and BattleMechs all packaged up and ready to go. In many ways, this was the part of the operation that he hated the most, one where he was completely powerless to do a thing about it.
I could really use a good book right now.
The sound of alarms grabbed his attention, followed by a crackling announcement from across the ship’s internal communications. “All units, prepare for combat drop.” This was why he was here, sealed in the cockpit of his BattleMech which was, in turn, sealed inside a drop capsule. For the last few hours, he’d had nothing to do but wait for this moment.
There was a juddering lurch as his capsule was moved into position, ending in a thud as it reached its spot at one of the doors. “Dropping in three,” the voice continued. “Two, one.”
Terry’s heart leapt up to the top of his chest as his ‘Mech simply plummeted out of the bay. Inertia pressed him hard up against the back of his seat as his machine fell through space, propelled solely by the gravitational pull of the world below. For the next few minutes all he could do was ride it out and hope that everything worked as intended, and none of the millions of things that could go wrong did.
The free fall quickly became rougher as his capsule hit the atmosphere, buffered now by the resistance of the air. Even with the added layers of protection, the cockpit began to heat up in response to the friction of re-entry. Keeping his hands firmly on the controls, Terry did his best to simply hold on and ride it out.
Through all of that, his eyes remained fixed on his displays; speed and altitude were king, measuring the ‘Mech’s fall through the atmosphere. Another had come up, counting down the time to capsule separation.
After what seemed like ages the temperature began to drop, while the buffeting decreased. The countdown timer reached the inevitable zero, followed by a warning alarm. Moments later the Phoenix Hawk shuddered again as the capsule broke away, leaving the BattleMech now in free-fall towards its destination.
A glimpse at his displays told Terry that everything was functioning as expected. The main viewscreen showed blue skies that were rushing past him, while one of the auxiliary displays painted a picture of the vivid green landscape below, one that was rapidly getting closer. As he had practiced numerous times, Terry fired his Jump Jets, a short burn that served to slow the inevitable descent.
In many ways, this was the trickiest part of the operation, juggling speed, altitude and burn time to bring the BattleMech to a controlled fall and landing. Mis-timing the balance could lead to a hard landing or catastrophic crash.
Slowly, inexorably, that speed began to bleed off in response to his actions. Every second brought him closer and closer to the ground as the Hawk continued its battle with gravity and momentum. Finally he slammed the jets hard, a full burn in the last dozens of meters before landing.
The Phoenix Hawk touched down with as much grace as forty-five tons of war machine could manage; its legs flexing just a bit to cushion the impact, with Terry feeling enough of it to register and produce a soft grunt. No sooner was he down then he activated the command channel. “Dagger Lead to all units. I am down clean. Report status.”
“Dagger Two all green,” Ronnie replied a moment later. The other two members of the lance also chimed in with their own affirmatives.
“Clear LZ and form up on me,” he ordered as he pushed the Phoenix Hawk into motion, the BattleMech stepping forward. The rest of the company from the Arkham Bridge would be coming down behind him, so it was up to Terry and his lance to clear the way for them.
The area around the quartet of BattleMechs was pleasant enough at first glance; green rolling hills and lightly scattered clumps of trees that showed little signs of human habitation. Not that I’m here for sightseeing, Terry reminded himself. “There should be a road about five kilometers north of us,” he ordered. “Head for that and keep your eyes open for enemy contacts. The Marians know we’re here and I doubt that they’ll be happy to see us.”
His lance replied with a chorus of affirmatives as they followed his lead, pushing towards the objective. They had been the first to land due to their role, and tasked with sweeping the area for signs of enemy forces before the Marauders hit their first objective.
“This is Marauder Actual,” Damien’s voice cut into the command channel. “All units are down safe.”
“Roger that,” Terry replied. “Dagger Lance is heading to first objective now.”
“Understood,” Damien finished, before adding. “And good luck out there.”
Was that a hint of concern? Terry asked himself. “You heard the man. We have a job to do.”
-
Barbarians at the Gates (pt 1)
In order to prosecute his private war against the Marian Hegemony, Duke Fontaine Marik turned to his mercenary allies to bolster his forces. Aside from Camacho's Caballeros, who had long historical ties to the region, he also hired a number of other units to quickly boost his numbers. Among those were McKinnon’s Marauders, who had worked for the Duchy in past and, as such, were known as a reliable force.
While the Tamarind regiments and Caballeros were taking the lead in the invasion of Illyria, the Marauders were among the units tasked with secondary objectives that, while perhaps less glamorous, were also key to the conquest of that world. As a regional capitol, and the site of one of the Hegemony’s few military manufacturers, it was expected that the MHAF would not let the world fall without a fight. Consequentially, Duke Marik hoped that he would force the Hegemony to split their forces while dealing with multiple assaults.
McKinnon’s Marauders were first tasked with securing supply and transport lines to Dalmatia, the planetary capitol. Landing on the southern fringes of the Cadmus Megaforest, they pushed north towards the town of Byllis as their first objective. While not a large population center in and of itself, it sat at a conjunction of vital rail, road and water routes to the capitol.
Within hours of landing the Marauders made contact with elements from I Legio’s Tertia Cohors as well as supporting forces. While the Marians had a better knowledge of the area, the mercenaries had a number of other advantages; their forces were equipped with far more advanced technology, and were more mobile to boot.
By using their jump-jet-equipped recon and striker lances in the heavily forested terrain, the Marauders were able to harry the Marian troops. With the tanks and MilitiaMechs of their supporting forces hampered by the terrain, the I Legio troops found themselves cut up into isolated pockets where the heavier Marauders units could focus their fire. After suffering several early losses, the Marians pulled back towards Byllis.
This move bought them only temporary relief. The Marauders used the same tactics to flank the Marian defenders, tying up and dividing their forces while the main body of the assault arrived. Marian losses quickly mounted, especially as the Marauders’ battle armour units moved through the town, conducting precise hit-and-run attacks on key assets. Realising that the situation was untenable, the Marians choose to abandon their position and preserve their forces.
After claiming Byllis, the Marauders found very little actual opposition to their presence among the locals. Despite having spent nearly a century under the Hegemony’s control, few had any real love for their rulers. Conversely, there were those that had been encouraged by the Lothians’ success in finding their own independence to try and do likewise. Damien McKinnon saw the potential in this dissident to gather information about the local area and the Hegemony’s forces that would be useful in the campaign to come.
- From Mercenary Conflicts of the 32nd Century, Galatean Free Press
-
Play to Win
Gillian Blackrock gave a discrete sigh as Isabella de Luca flopped down in the booth opposite her. Just like at their last meeting, the mercenary commander was being loud and obvious to the point of obnoxiousness. And just like their last meeting, Gillian was doing her best to keep a straight face and not rise to her.
“So,” de Luca began. “I gotta give it to you, GB. You were right on the money.”
“I’m glad that the information I provided was useful,” she replied, her tone still neutral. “Given your presence here and reaction, I will assume that everything went well.”
“You mean the fact that I’m not trying to kill you?” de Luca nodded. “Yeah, it worked out well for us.”
The worst part was that Blackrock wasn’t sure if she was joking. Normally she’d say that de Luca wasn’t the type given to that sort of revenge, but on the other hand, the woman was known to be hot-headed and impulsive. “That’s good to know,” she managed. “My role in this arrangement is to support everyone else, after all. I’d like to think that I'm doing a good job of it.”
“Well yeah,” de Luca nodded. “Plus I gotta add, you really put me on to a winner with Tony Jaros. Guy paid off for us big time.”
“Oh really?” Blackrock asked, now genuinely curious. “I would like to know what happened,” she continued as she leaned in. “After all, he’s one of my assets. It’s useful to know how if he’s living up to the effort invested in him.”
De Luca grinned. “So when we hit the ground on Tigress he volunteered to go do some groundwork for us. I figured that he wasn’t going to run off on us, given that we still had his ‘Mech and all. Turns out I shouldn’t have worried.”
“So what happened?”
“Within a day there were riots across several cities,” she explained. “Civil disobedience, looting, bomb threats to government buildings and a whole heap of other things. And when Tony came back to us, he had the smuggest grin you have ever seen on his face. He didn’t need to tell me he was responsible for what was happening, given that his swagger said it all.”
Their drinks arrived, with de Luca immediately taking a generous swig from hers. “When we got our own arses in gear, the Tigress Home Guard were being driven to distraction by the mess that he’d started. They were slow to react to us, and when we did clash they were clearly out of their depth. So we got our targets, got our loot and then got the hell out of there.”
She took another hit from her drink. “And turns out that Tony’s just as good with that ‘Mech as he is with burning a planet down. I mean, damn, he’s got to be the best shot I’ve ever seen.”
“Excellent,” Blackrock nodded. “I’m glad that things worked out.”
“If he hadn’t made it clear that he’s a free agent, I would have hired him on the spot,” de Luca noted. “Just a pity I’m not his type. Ah well.”
“Well then,” Blackrock nodded. “If there is nothing else?”
“There was one thing,” de Luca noted. “See, as much as you wanted to get your asset out there, this was kinda a test for you as well.”
“How so?”
“It’s as I said when we set this up, GB,” she explained. “I know who you used to work for and no, don’t ask how I came into that information. Point is that you’re not the queen of popularity among our little band of renegades.”
“That much was abundantly clear,” Blackrock admitted, doing her best to keep her cool.
“And it turns out that so far, you're on the level,” she continued. “Your help worked out great for me and my men. That gives me reason enough to trust you, even if I don’t like you.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment, then.”
“It was meant to be, GB,” she finished. “And I do look forward to working with you in future.” She emptied her glass, and moved to stand, but then paused. “Though there is one more thing.”
“Which is?”
“You do anything to hurt my people or any of the rest of us, and I will make sure that everyone on Galatea knows who you used to work for and what you did for him.” She shrugged. “Just something to think about.”
-
The Right Kind of Crazy
Theo’s Tavern, Fundament
Herotitus
Fronc Reaches
28 November, 3150
Wild bin Ottoman barely looked up from his drink as the newcomer took their place at the table. “Toto,” he simply began.
“Wild bin Ottoman,” Zaki Toto replied, his tone surprisingly enthusiastic.
“I have heard that you have been making some moves,” he continued, still paying little attention to his companion.
“That is true,” Toto nodded in confirmation. “I just signed the good parts of Pellot’s Zealots over to the Bushrangers.”
He gave a derisive snort. “The good parts is a relative term,” Wild simply stated. “And how does Major Pellot feel about this?”
“I’m sure he’ll be angry when he finds out,” Toto dismissively replied.
“And so I assume then that you have come here to hire me.”
“You would be right there.”
“I should ask why.”
“Because you are a very capable and experienced MechWarrior,” Toto confirmed. “Better than a lot of the others on this rock by any stretch.”
“But that is not all, is it?”
“No,” Toto admitted. “It’s because I have worked with you in past, and you are a known quantity.”
“And better the devil you know then the washed-up no-hoper you don’t,” Wild finished.
“If you want to put it like that…” Zaki trailed off.
Which was Wild’s way of confirming that he agreed with that assessment. After all, the Periphery was not normally home to successful mercenaries, but rather those that had no real options. “While I should feel flattered, my answer is no.”
If Zaki was disappointed, then he did a good job of hiding it. “Can I ask why?”
Wild considered the matter for a moment. “Out of respect for our past, I will explain,” he finally spoke, “And I will give you two reasons.”
“Go on.”
“The first is that, as a free agent, I can make more money then I could as a member of your unit or any other,” he held up a finger, as if to indicate he knew what was coming. “And yes, I am aware of the risks involved as well, but I also understand the rewards.”
“Fine,” Toto admitted. “And the second?”
“We worked together in past, as you said,” Wild continued. “I met Connie Raymond, and I have no desire to deal with that sort of insanity again.”
“Connie Raymond is…out of the picture,” Toto replied, a clear frustration in his tone.
“And yet, the man who supported her for decades and turned a blind eye to her madness is still here and still calling the shots.”
Toto winced. “And that is coming from somebody who was a part of the Band of Five.”
“This is true,” Wild admitted as he finished his drink. “However, as said, better the devil you know.” He stood, giving Toto a nod. “I wish you all the best with your future. Just be sure to leave me out of it.”
-
Vox Populi
San Filipe
Gibraltar
Marian Hegemony
3 December 3150
Zebadiah Craine really liked Gibraltar.
Before it had been conquered by the Hegemony, the planet had been a part of the Free Worlds League for centuries. During that time, it had largely remained an internal world, one that was relatively untouched by the ravages of the Succession Wars and everything else that had followed. That in turn meant that it was a well-developed world, with relatively advanced technologies and, more to the point, the means to support them.
He considered this all as he looked out the window of his office, admiring the view over the afternoon city. Previously it had been the domain of some political official, one who had done their best to make it as comfortable for themselves as possible. Everything about the room, and the building it was in, spoke of luxury and wealth.
It was a stark contrast to his own background. While he had grown up as a member of the privileged patrician class, Zebadiah held no illusions as to how little that wealth actually meant outside of its neat little bottle. The worlds of the Marian Hegemony, his home, were still under-developed backwaters compared to those of the Inner Sphere.
“How I do envy you,” he considered to himself. During III Legio’s raids, he’d seen enough to know how the average person in the Inner Sphere lived. On Kendall, the average plebeian experienced a level of sophistication in their lives that most Marians couldn’t dream of. During those raids, the Legion had filled their ships’ holds with parts, supplies, material and slaves; however, Zebidiah had been sure to take along enough personal goods and such to line his own pockets.
And now that he was here, on a sophisticated, advanced, luxurious world, he was determined to enjoy it.
A chime from the door interrupted his thoughts. “Enter,” he simply commanded as he turned back to the desk.
The visitor was who he expected. Centurion Shamus Flannigan, one of his subordinates. Dutiful, loyal and a credit to his plebeian status, even if he could never rise further in the Legion’s ranks because of it. His uniform was crisp and fresh, which was a blunt contrast to his own haggard features. “Ave Caesar,” he still managed, snapping off a crisp salute.
“Ave Caesar,” Zebadiah replied. “Please, sit.” Shamus did as indicated, taking his place in front of the expansive desk. Zebadiah did the same on his side, even if his chair was far larger and more comfortable. “How fare you out there?”
Shamus gave an audible sigh before placing a tablet on the desk. “My century had another run-in with the rebels,” he explained, the weariness evident in his voice. “They disabled one of the Galleons from the Auxillia with an improvised explosive, then faded away when we gave chase. Despite our efforts, we were not able to locate them,” he finished. “It is all there in my report.”
“I see,” Zebadiah gave a small nod. “And the mood of the troops?”
“They remain tired,” Shamus admitted. “Stressed and worn out from fighting an invisible enemy with no real signs of relief. Many are concerned that we are now surrounded by the League; rumours fly that they are coming for us in force, or that they are simply trying to starve us out.”
“I am sure that Prefect Kilgore will find this all useful,” Zebadiah nodded. “Dissent should not be tolerated.”
“No, sir,” Shamus agreed.
“And on a more personal matter?”
Shamus paused to gather his thoughts before continuing. “Centurion Meng has been... airing concerns about your leadership. He feels that you should be more directly engaged with the enemy; leading from the front and the like.”
“Is he accusing me of cowardice?”
“Not as such but, ah,” Shamus seemed to be searching for the right words. “He does seem to think that we have a leadership problem and that there would be... better options.”
Meng is a patrician, Zebadiah considered, which means that he could be a threat. Craine nodded. “If there were... rumours spread among his men that Meng had been irresponsible with his assets, or less than loyal to Caesar, then it would be very helpful.”
“I am sure that could be arranged,” Shamus nodded.
“You are a good man, Centurion Flannigan,” he continued as he opened a draw in his desk. “And you have done me a great service, and continue to be valuable to me.” As he spoke, Zebadiah could not help but think back to Kendall, and that Black Knight that had him dead to rights. “And you will be rewarded for your efforts.” He placed a manila envelope on the desk, pushing it towards his subordinate.
“I live to serve Caesar,” Flannigan simply replied as he took the envelope.
“As do we all,” he finished. “Dismissed.”
Shamus stood, concealing the envelope in his jacket before leaving. Once he was gone, Zebadiah sighed to himself. Meng will learn his place, he considered. It would do him well to find some humility. He was confident enough that Shamus would be able to do what was asked of him and ensure the message got across. It was a plan that had worked so well for him on Kendall, after all. Evidence ‘discovered’ by Flannigan had helped place all the blame for the debacle on the conveniently dead Legate Traviss, allowing Craine and his fellows to walk away with their careers unharmed.
A signal from his communicator interrupted his thoughts. “This is Prefect Killgore,” the harsh, demanding voice from the other end of the communicator began. “All Legates are to report to me immediately.” His tone made it clear that there was no room to negotiate.
With a sigh, Zebediah stood. Whatever this is, it shouldn’t be too bad, he considered as he glanced around the office again. I’m not quite ready to give up all of this quite yet.
-
A Guide to Awkward Conversations
Isfjell Hall, Byllis
Illyria
Illyrian Province, Marian Hegemony
19 December 3150
Ronnie Raymond sat nursing his drink, glancing around the tavern as he did. The Isfjell Hall was far from the best place he had ever been in, but at the same time was a long way from the worst. Of course, since it also was the only tavern in Byllis, it wasn’t like they really had a choice of venues.
The Marauders had taken the town early in their invasion of the world and turned it into their base of operations and the tavern as their makeshift commissary. The local populace had been, for the most part, somewhere between indifferent to the change of leadership and openly supportive of it.
“Hey,” Ronnie nodded as Terry McKinnon approached the table. “How’d it go?”
“Eighth Tamarind had another skirmish with the Marians,” Terry explained as he took his seat. “They lost three ‘Mechs to another hit-and-run attack, but still haven’t seen hide nor hair of the governor.”
“I sense a pattern forming here,” Ronnie shook his head. Two and a half weeks ago, the Tamarind forces had taken the planetary capitol of Dalmatia after destroying one of the Marian cohorts that had been defending it. However, the governor had escaped under Marian protection, with their forces going to ground. Since then there had been numerous skirmishes with the remaining defenders, but no actual progress. The Marauders had been a part of those forces hunting for the fugitive units.
“It’s a bit like that,” Terry agreed. “I heard that Colonel Camacho is running his scouts ragged trying to find the guy.”
“If anyone could, it’s them,” Ronnie nodded. “They got a reputation for that sort of thing, after all.”
“Here’s hoping,” Tarry shrugged. “Anything happening here?”
Ronnie looked around the diner that had become their makeshift commissary. “Pretty quiet so far,” he admitted. The Marauders had taken Byllis early on in the campaign due to its vital transport links, and made it their base of operations. So far the locals had been somewhere between largely indifferent and openly supportive of their presence.
“You could be reading Sharpell instead,” Terry laughed.
“Please no,” Ronnie rolled his eyes.
“I’m sure there’s a copy around here somewhere.”
“Yeah, in the trash,” Ronnie shot back. Sharpell was the official magazine of the MHAF, with the Marauders finding a large shipment of the latest issue among the goods passing through town. Those that had read it had a low opinion of its contents, to the point where using it as toilet paper was considered to be an insult to toilet paper.
“Fine then,” Terry continued. “What about you and Leah? How are things going there?”
Ronnie shrugged. “We’re in a warzone on active duty. So I’ve barely had time to talk to her. On the other hand, it gives her a good excuse to get out of a second date.”
“Sorry man.”
“Eh, it can’t be any worse then what happened with Zera,” he shook his head. “Her breakup involved her running off to the Periphery to get away from me.”
“There were extenuating circumstances.”
“Eh, I was a total piece of crap back then,” he explained.
“You gotta stop putting yourself down like that,” Terry offered.
“Just because it’s true?”
“Is this why you never talk to Jessie?”
Ronnie raised a disbelieving brow. “Are we having this conversation now?”
Terry shrugged. “Better now then in the middle of a firefight. Besides, I’m the expert on awkward relationships with half-siblings.”
“I cannot argue with that logic,” Ronnie admitted. “The thing is... yeah, look, I’ll be honest here. Jessie and I treated each other like total crap for most of our lives.”
“Isn’t that being a bit harsh?”
“It’s true,” Ronnie admitted. “Jessie was mom’s favourite from day one. Maybe it was because she was the oldest or because she was the only child of her dead first husband or whatever else, but yeah. She was the heir-designate and given everything. Never mind that Jessie really didn’t want it and she was a terrible pick for the job.”
“But?”
“But Jessie also was never gonna stand up to mom to tell her that,” Ronnie explained. “I think she was just too afraid of her to say a thing.”
“And you?"
Ronnie flopped his head back to look at the ceiling as he tried to find his words. “Me, I was the unfavourite second child who I think mom didn’t really want but had for the sake of her marriage.”
“Harsh.”
“You learn to read between the lines,” Ronnie admitted. “Now, I wanted everything Jessie had, but no way was I getting it. So I turned into a whiny little snot who was a total jerk to her. And then she was a jerk back to me because it was her way of dealing with it.”
“Well you don’t have to worry about your mother anymore,” Terry noted. “So why not actually, you know, talk to her?”
“Because two decades of mutual antagonism are hard to get over,” Ronnie replied.
“You should give it a try.”
“Fine,” Ronnie sat up. “So then why haven’t you and Irisz made it official yet? I mean, like, everyone in the universe knows by now.”
“Hey, no changing the subject.”
“I mean come on,” Ronnie laughed. “There are worlds out in the deep Periphery that have gone all the way back to the Stone Age and think they’re descended from sky gods or something. And they’re asking why you two haven’t tied the knot yet.”
Terry gave an exasperated sigh. “It’s complicated.”
“So’s my relationship with Jessie.”
“Different sort of complicated.”
“Yeah yeah, we all believe you,” Ronnie continued.
“See-“
“Listen up everybody,” As one, all eyes turned to the tavern’s upper deck, where Damien McKinnon was leaning on the railing. “I’ve just been informed that command has detected multiple JumpShip emergences in-system. Given the situation, it is assumed that these are Marian reinforcements come to relieve their forces and try to maintain their hold on the system. I want everyone ready for action immediately.”
Ronnie glanced over at Terry. “Way to get out of an awkward conversation there.”
-
Tiger, Tyger
Outside Su’aydan
Al Jubaylah
21 December 3150
Lanie King’s autocannon sprayed shot out at the Stygian hovertank, peppering its side with explosive pellets. The shots tore through the armour and shredded the skirt, causing the craft to spin out across the desert floor, kicking up a cloud of dust as it went. The craft bottomed out, skidding to a halt, immobile but otherwise largely intact.
No sooner had it stopped moving then its missile launcher opened fire at her. A dozen warheads struck her Cataphract’s upper body, rocking the BattleMech but not penetrating the armour. Sensible pirates would have bailed out as soon as they could, Lanie considered as she again turned to face the downed tank. Then again, I suppose if they were sensible then they wouldn’t be pirates.
She opened up on the downed tank, knowing full well that she couldn’t simply ignore it now. Her lasers and autocannon tore through its hull, shattering the components within. However, it was her plasma rifle that did the most damage; the searing flames washed over the tank, cutting through whatever protection was left before turning their attention to what lay inside. A moment later, black smoke began to billow up from inside the tank.
Lanie couldn’t help but wince at the sight. Pirates or not, nobody deserved to go out like that.
She only had a moment to consider it before her sensors warned her of more incoming missiles. Unlike those launched from the Stygian, these ones didn’t rain down on her BattleMech. Instead, they burst in the air, releasing clouds of thick, black smoke over the battlefield. “What the hell are you up to?” she asked herself as she pushed her ‘Mech forward, eyes open for whatever might happen next.
The last week was best summed up as confusing. A pirate band had made landfall on Al Jubaylah, but had made little effort to strike any targets of value. Instead they had spent their time harassing outlying homesteads, while getting both King’s Tigers and the planetary guard to chase them across the desert. Neither Lanie nor any of her officers or her liaisons could figure out what they were actually after or what they were getting out of all of this.
“Jaguar Lead here,” Pennington’s voice cut into the command channel. “Pirate forces are attempting to flank us at grid tango-three-four.” There was a brief, muffed whumph as his tank’s cannon fired in the background. “Looks like a mix of hovertanks and BattleMechs.”
“Roger that,” Lanie replied. “All units, rotate to heading two-seven-zero and head off enemy force.” If we can trap some of them, that might force them to call off... whatever it is they’re doing. As she bought her Cataphract around, more smoke missiles detonated, only serving to further obscure the battlefield. “And somebody try to silence those launchers.” The rocky desert offered very little in the way of actual cover, so the pirates seemed to be determined to make their own. And whatever they’re up to, they must be burning through a fortune in smoke LRMs, she added.
Cannon fire slammed into the side of her BattleMech, shaking it. Quickly wheeling around, Lanie sighted her attacker; a Shadow Hawk wearing a grey-and-black tiger stripe pattern. The ‘Mech immediately pulled back, trying to use the smoke as cover.
No you don’t, she mentally scolded as she returned fire on it. Her autocannon sent fragments of shot scattering across the ‘Mech, gouging into its armour, while the plasma rifle burned through its side. Neither attack seemed to concern it, with the Shadow Hawk instead replying as it continued to pull back. More autocannon fragments peppered the Cataphract, while a handful of missiles did little more than pit the armour on her leg.
“Tiger Actual to all units,” Lanie called out. “I have one-“ she paused as an ungainly Chimera leapt out of the smoke, landing by the Shadow Hawk. “-correction, two enemy BattleMechs at my location.”
The Chimera opened fire with its missile launcher, its payload scattering well wide of Lanie’s ‘Mech. Mindful of their location, she opened up the Cataphract’s throttle, heading towards Pennington’s reported location. With the smoke clouds limiting her visibility, she had to go off what her sensors and tactical map were telling her.
A quick burst of speed from her MASC system allowed her to bring the Cataphract around, ensuring that she wasn’t between the two pirates. As she did, she opened up again on the Shadow Hawk, steady hands keeping her sights firmly on the target as it also moved to track her. This time her autocannon went wide, shots tearing just past the enemy BattleMech’s side. Her lasers and plasma rifle found their marks, however, scouring armour from its legs and side.
The Shadow Hawk responded in kind, its pilot keeping a steady aim despite the movement of the two ‘Mechs. Its autocannon cut into her left arm, shredding the last of the armour there before tearing into the actuators. The missiles and laser scattered some more damage across her side, but nothing too worrying for the moment.
And despite the damage she had taken in the exchange, Lanie couldn’t help but give a small smile as she glanced at her tactical display.
A Pegasus hovertank sped out of the smoke, barrelling past the two pirate ‘Mechs. As it went, it twisted its turret and loosed a volley of missiles at the Chimera. Warheads struck the BattleMech’s legs and side, doing little actual damage, but clearly drawing its attention. As the Pegasus sped away, the Chimera turned to fire after it, sending out a barrage of missiles that scattered across the desert without doing any real damage.
Moments later, a Havoc emerged and joined in the assault, its lasers spreading patterns of molten metal across the Chimera’s side. The pirate ‘Mech turned to face the newcomer, its MechWarrior clearly unsure of what to do next.
“Not so cocky when we use your own tricks against you, are you?” Lanie asked. Leaving the Shadow Hawk for the moment, she focused her fire on the more badly damaged Chimera. Her autocannon ripped into its armour, before the lasers cut through the holes that its assault had left. However, it was the plasma rifle that again left its mark, burning into the thick drum of the missile launcher before slagging its contents. The warheads within the weapon detonated, the explosion staggering the Chimera, nearly driving it to its knees.
Perhaps aware of its situation, the Shadow Hawk let loose a final volley of fire, but this time not directing it at Lanie. Rather, its autocannon and lasers smashed into the Havoc, catching the light ‘Mech in the leg as it ran. The humanoid ‘Mech crashed down hard to the desert floor, giving the pirate Shadow Hawk the chance it needed. Firing its jump jets, it simply leapt backwards into the black smoke, vanishing from sight. Moments later, the wounded Chimera joined it, clearly not wanting to stay in the fight.
“You okay, Three-Three?” Lanie asked over her command channel as she pushed her Cataphract forwards. She was wary of wandering into the smoke, lest there be more of them waiting on the other side. At the same time, she didn’t want to let them go.
“A little shaken up, but I’ll live,” the pilot replied. “Thanks.”
Another voice joined the channel before she could add anything. “This is Wildcat Two-One,” they called out. “Pirate forces seem to be making a break for it. Do we pursue?”
Lanie weighed her options. A part of her really wanted to chase them down, but that was likely to draw the whole affair out even longer or, even worse, lead her men into some sort of elaborate trap. That was the one thing that kept bothering her more than anything else, and the only explanation she could come up with for their behaviour.
“Negative,” she finally spoke. “Keep eyes on them, but do not engage.” Sighing, she quickly changed channels. “All units, this is Tiger Actual. Enemy force is withdrawing. Regroup on me.”
I have no idea what you were after, she admitted to herself. But at least we stopped you from getting it. I suppose I should be thankful for that much.
-
The Sensible Option
Saxony
Kamenz, Duchy of Tamarind-Abbey
Free Worlds League
23 December 3150
Major Frank Stanton did his best to act calm and collected as he looked over the table to those standing on the other side. It was not an easy task, to say the least.
“That’s my position,” he stated, his tone blunt and level. “Ultimately, my unit has a contract to fulfill, and we are not going to be dissuaded. I thank you for your offer, Major Stanislav, but I am going to have to refuse.” Internally he took a breath. “We are both mercenaries here, after all, and at the end of the day, we both have a job to do.”
All of which was true. Three days ago, his unit had made landfall on Kamenz while under contract to the Lyran Commonwealth. After several skirmishes with an unidentified mercenary command who were on the world, they received an offer to meet and talk things out. Stanton knew this for what it was, a tradition of sorts within the mercenary trade. Two opposing commanders would meet to see how much their respective contracts were worth to the pair of them, and figure out how they wanted to handle the situation from there.
Stanton hadn’t expected the offer, but he would have been a fool not to take it up. Now that he was here in a tent with members of his unit, facing off with his opposite number, he was trying to figure what he was going to do next.
The situation wasn’t helped by the man he was dealing with. Major Leonid Stanislav was an imposing enough figure to start with; tall and heavyset, his features were largely hidden behind a thick, black beard which made him hard to read. Between it and the heavy fur coat he was wearing, the man looked like some cross between a MechWarrior and a holovid barbarian warlord.
“Hm,” Stanislav spoke after a long pause, one that had seemed to drag on forever. “You are making a good point. We both are professionals. We both are having jobs to do. Neither of us is being paid otherwise.” His sentences were short and clipped, and his words heavily accented. “And I am thinking, he is here as a courtesy, nothing else. He is being very professional, after all.”
Stanton nodded in acknowledgement of his words. “Thank you.”
There was a brief sigh. “And so we could fight. Your mans, they could outmanoeuvre mine. You could be reaching your objectives and then getting away.”
One of Stanislav’s men leaned in to quietly whisper something to him. Tall, thin and clean-shaven, he was the opposite of his commander in many ways. Stanislav quietly nodded, and then turned back to Stanton.
“Or, we fight,” he continued, “and my mans, they are beating yours. We have more of them, and we are better equipped as well,” that last point was spoken with a hint of pride. “And perhaps you are defeated, and you are paying ransom to escape from us, which is leavings you with even less than you started with.”
“Or,” there was the hint of a smile there. “Or maybe we are defeating your unit. Your mans, they surrender to us, and we are bringing them into our ranks. Your unit, well, it is gone there is nothing left and you are having nothing either.”
“Or maybe even we crush you,” he stated, his tone abruptly shifting to something that was far darker. “your mans, dead, your ‘Mechs destroyed. It is defeat so complete that it is like your unit is never existing. And my mans, they will sing of this victory for generations to come.”
He shrugged. “Who can say what will happen.”
There was an awkward pause. “Can we...” Stanton finally spoke. “Can we have a minute?”
-----
Leonid Stanislav stepped outside, taking a deep breath as he did. The evening air was still warm, and would likely stay such for some time. Vast grasslands stretched out around him, punctuated by little more than the vaguest hint of mountains in the distance. What seemed to be a few rocks, but were actually the last remnants of a centuries-gone building only added to the air of emptiness.
In many ways, the bright orange, purple and teal form of his Marauder, as well as the other BattleMechs that had accompanied it seemed even more out of place with their surroundings.
“What do you think?” Zeke Isaacs asked as he stepped out to join him. “Will Stanton go for it?”
“I think he will,” Leonid nodded, looking off into the distance. “You saw his ‘Mechs. Old models, and it’s clear that they are hurting.”
“Agreed. A fresh coat of paint can’t hide all the clear jury-rigging going on there,” Zeke assessed. “They need the money for this contract, but I don’t think that Stanton really wants a fight.”
“He didn’t expect us to be here. That much is clear.”
“No. And now he is looking for a way out,” Leonid noted. “He takes it and leaves with his unit intact. The Commonwealth won’t like it, but likely they will keep him employed.”
“A meeting of the desperate,” Zeke assessed. “A state that is on the edge of collapse cannot afford to be choosy about who it hires.”
“They cannot,” Leonid nodded. “All this, it is too complicated. But I do what I must.”
“Even our allies?”
That produced a chortle. “They are interesting. Yes, I am convinced that Rybak is following some plan and we are merely along for the ride. He is from the other side of hisn ghayr maryiyin, after all. Why should I trust that?”
“And yet you do.”
“Because we are men without homes, Zeke,” he admitted. “And we need that help if we are to survive.”
“Even de Luca?”
Leonid laughed. “You will not let that go, my friend,” he shook his head. “Yes, even her. I trust her, I trust her family. She puts up as much of an act as I do, after all.”
Zeke nodded silently, looking up at the sky. “It reminds me of home.”
“Pah,” Leonid spat. “The grass, it is the wrong colour. The sun, it is also the wrong colour,” he laughed. “Do not get me started.”
Zeke chucked in reply. “Do you think Major Stanton has had enough time.”
“I do,” Leonid replied as he turned back to the tent. “Now let us see if he has made the right choice.”
-
Guest chapter by KayEmm
Eye to Eye
Kari Moreno gave an ever-so-small smile as Irisz Magyari approached the table, her feelings decidedly mixed. It was one thing to be happy to see her friend, but another altogether given the circumstances. Nonetheless, she was glad to see it replied in kind as Irisz took her place at the table.
“It’s good to see you,” she immediately began, perhaps deliberately aiming to head off anything that Kari might have said; seizing the initiative in her own way. Given the circumstances, she couldn’t exactly fault her for taking that approach.
“You too,” Kari replied, a warm tone in her voice. “Pretty much straight off the DropShip, really.”
“Good to see you made it back intact,” Irisz nodded. “How did things go?”
Kari paused in consideration, glancing around the room. It was one of her preferred places in the city; quiet, personal and relatively anonymous. A place to do business, yes, but also to simply escape and unwind from her responsibilities and pressures for a moment. “Pretty well, all things being equal. I’ll give you and… our friend a full accounting of it later, but we hit the target, got to the objective and inflicted considerable damage on the enemy. Definitely a lot better than we gave.” There was a lot more that she wasn’t saying, but she felt that was for another time. Certainly not for a public venue. “Yourself?”
“Better and worse than expected,” Irisz replied. “The enemy were not what we expected, and put up a lot less of a fight then we had planned for. So we took less damage yes, but also walked off with a lot less salvage than I had hoped for.”
“I see what you mean,” Kari nodded. “Definitely a strange situation.”
“No questions there,” Irisz shrugged.
That led to a short, awkward pause, punctuated only by a waiter. The pair of them ordered drinks, but once he was gone, it returned in force.
“I, ah,” Kari finally spoke up. “I heard the news. I’m sorry.”
“Thank you,” Irisz replied with a nod. “It’s… yeah.”
“Are you doing okay?” Kari asked, offering a hand.
Irisz took it, giving a small, clearly awkward smile. “It’s kind of strange,” she admitted, the edges of her good eye clearly moistening. “I, well, I had resigned myself to that a long time ago. It has been fifteen years after all, and he was behind the Wall and everything. In many ways, I think that I had accepted that he was gone when that happened.”
“But now you know, I suppose.”
“Yeah,” she continued. “And even though I had assumed him dead for so long, there was always that ever-so-small chance that he could be alive after all. I mean, I had no idea what was going on behind the Wall, after all. For all I knew, he could have been hiding out on some tropical island somewhere.” She gave a brief chortle, even if it was clear she was holding back.
“I’m so sorry, Irisz.”
“Thank you,” there was another nod. “I mean, when he left, I really had no idea how long it would be. He named me interim commander and, well, that ended up becoming permanent. A couple of years later I stopped pretending and took full control of things.” Irisz chewed her lip a moment in consideration.
“I think that’s when I really accepted that he wasn’t coming back ever. But I didn’t let it control my life; instead I got on with my job. Too busy with running a unit, which, well, I guess gave me a focus. I couldn’t worry about where he was or how he was doing or if he was alive or whatever else.”
“Had you planned on him coming back to the unit?”
“Honestly, no,” Irisz admitted. “I mean, by that point I’d taken over and made it my own unit rather than what he left me with. Cleaning out the mess and all that. I really had no plan for if he had returned. I guess it doesn’t matter now.”
“I guess not.”
“Funny thing is that it was so abrupt,” she continued. “Like, he basically just told me that he had some personal business to attend to on Outreach and that was it. The Wall went up two months after that, and, well, that was all there was to say.”
“Did he ever say what it was he was doing?”
“No,” Irisz sighed. “And that was it, really. I… will probably never know. And really, that might be the bit that gets me the most. It’s…” she shook her head, taking a deep sigh. “I really wonder why he never told me what it was, or why he had to go.”
Kari gave her hand a comforting squeeze. “I didn’t realise.”
“I… I haven’t really told anyone outside of the unit this,” Kari admitted. “At this point, I really don’t think it matters any more to anyone save for me.”
“Did he have any family?” Kari asked. “Besides you.”
“Well, obviously there’s mom,” Irisz admitted. “And I have no idea how long it will take to get the news to her. I mean, I barely know where she is at this point.”
Kari nodded. “The life of a free trader.”
“Apart from me and mom, dad had a brother and sister; Lorand and Bianka.” Irisz took a deep breath. “He… didn’t get along with them and, well, even before the Blackout didn’t really speak with them that much.”
“Was there a reason for that?”
Irisz glanced up at the ceiling for a moment in contemplation. “I mean, when most of this happened, I was still very young. I didn’t see the pair of them that much, and that was over twenty years ago. Dad was the youngest of the three, and the only one that really had any interest in continuing the family unit after they passed on it.”
“Lorand didn’t want to have anything to do with the military or mercenaries or anything like that. He became an architect, and, from what I gathered, a pretty good one at that. Bianka, on the other hand, joined the RAF and eventually became a Knight. Both of them wanted to, I guess, change and adapt to the new shape of the universe,” Irisz added. “They wanted something more than being a mercenary or fighting or whatever else. And given the times and all, I can understand that. And, well, dad was kind of the black sheep of the family for sticking to his guns despite all that.”
“Do you think they had any contact with him behind the Wall?” Kari asked.
“I really can’t say,” Irisz admitted. “Who knows? Maybe dad’s business had something to do with either or both of them. Or maybe it was something else that had nothing to do with them at all.”
“Like you said, we’ll likely never know.” Kari noted.
“Yeah,” she simply shrugged it off. “It’s… it's really in the past now. He had his secrets, and I really can’t say beyond that. Especially with…” She trailed off.
“Irisz?” Kari asked.
“Never mind,” she shook her head. “It’s fine. I guess, in many ways I should thank our friend for this. Otherwise I probably wouldn’t ever know.”
Kari nodded. “Strange how that works.”
“I know,” Irisz agreed. “I guess that he did me a favor after a fashion.”
Kari looked thoughtful for a moment. “His reasons for going behind the Wall aside, was there anything else you think he never told you?”
“Honestly? Probably not,” Irisz simply replied. “For all his faults, my father was a very simple and straightforward man. His long string of affairs, well...” She paused again.
“Something up? It feels like there’s something more here.”
“It’s nothing,” Irisz shook her head. “After a while they were really an open secret. I knew what was going on, and just accepted it. It wasn’t like it was affecting his ability to run the unit or make command decisions or the like, so that wasn’t an issue. I admit that yes, I didn’t like it, but at the same time, I couldn’t stop him.”
“I think I get what you’re saying,” Kari said.
“I guess the thing that’s getting me is that I’ll never really have that chance to say goodbye,” Irisz finally admitted. “Our last conversation was fifteen years ago, and I had no way to contact him after that. And from what I’ve gathered, there’s little to no chance of his body ever being recovered or anything like that either.”
Kari gave an understanding nod. “I… know how some of that feels.”
“With how your father died?”
“Yeah,” she admitted, “he was killed by the Falcons while we were trying to retreat off-world. There was no way to recover him or anything like that. I… yeah.” Kari looked thoughtful for a moment. “I suppose that both of us also knew and understood the risks he was taking, however. And not to sound fatalistic, but whenever he took to the field, I understood that anything could happen out there.”
“I guess in a way you got to say goodbye,” Irisz suggested. “Even if you didn’t know it was goodbye.”
“I suppose so,” Kari agreed. “Every time was potentially the last time. But you didn’t get that chance.” She offered a comforting smile.
“I didn’t, no.” Irisz finally admitted. “And I think that’s the one thing that bothers me more than anything else. Maybe if I’d know that I would never see him again then I would have said or done things differently or the like.”
“But you couldn’t have known,” Kari countered. “Not that it would be fifteen years or that the Wall would go up or anything else.”
“I mean, when you put it like that…” Irisz nodded. “Nobody could have seen that coming.”
“My point exactly,” Kari finished. “I’m not putting words in your mouth, but it feels like you just want some sort of closure. But you also know that’s never going to happen.”
Irisz gave a slow nod, her good eye closed. “You are right. And I know that there is nothing I can do about it, and that I can’t dwell on it.”
Kari gave her hand another gentle squeeze. “It’s what we do. Ours is a profession where death and loss is inevitable. And sometimes, it will be personal and it will hurt.”
“It is.”
Kari gave another smile, this one warm. “How are you doing otherwise?”
“Well, Terry and I missed each other again,” she shrugged. “The Marauders are on a long-term contract, so I guess that will be a while before we get to talk again.”
“Really,” Kari nodded. “Or are you just making excuses now?”
Irisz rolled her eye and laughed. “You too, huh Kari?”
Now she laughed. “What can I say? Me, Angela, Isabella and everyone else are still wondering why you two haven’t made it official yet.”
“No, Angela wants all her friends to be married with kids,” Irisz countered. “Isabella just wants to go to weddings that have open bars.”
“You’re dodging the question,” Kari needled.
“It’s complicated, Kari.”
“You say that but I think that’s your excuse not to say a thing.”
“Fine,” Irisz shook her head. “It’s to do with Terry and Damien and all.”
“Do tell.”
She took a deep breath before continuing. “Terry is in theory not a legitimate heir to the Marauders. Theoretically, that would be one of Damien’s children.”
“Theoretically.”
“Right,” Irisz nodded. “But that raises questions that are all about the realities of our trade. Damien’s kids are still too young to even pilot a BattleMech. So there’s questions of who would take command if something happened to him.”
“And people would see Terry as a potential option,” Kari nodded.
“Right,” Irisz agreed. “But then consider this. What if Terry and I were married? What if we had kids? Can you imagine how complicated and messy it would all be?”
“Admit it, you’re just making excuses,” Kari needled.
Irisz raised an almost exaggerated brow. “Like you can talk, Kari.”
“What do you mean?”
“Let’s see,” Irisz held up her hand and began counting off fingers. “You’re young, you’re frankly gorgeous, and you’re the commander of a family unit. Not only are you super eligible, but you should have people tripping over themselves for you.”
“Cheap deflection, Irisz.”
“You bought it up,” she laughed. “Shouldn’t have done it if you didn’t want me to hit back.”
Kari shook her head. “Fair enough then. And, well, thank you for that much.” She toyed with a strand of colored red hair in thought. “You make a valid point, and it is a bit complicated.”
There was clear understanding in Irisz’ nod. “I guess it is hard to find the right man, given the circumstances. Sorry.”
“No, I get what you mean. The dating scene for the single asexual is… not the best.”
“I sense a ‘but’ forming here.”
“There’s that part of me that would love to have a husband and kids,” Kari admitted. “It’s just the sex part of it that I would rather do without, which is where it all falls down.”
“And finding a man who can live without sex is like finding, I don’t know,” Irisz shrugged. “Something that Interstellar Expeditions would be chasing after, I suppose.”
That bought out a small chuckle. “I suppose so.”
“And that's not the end of the 'but', is it?” Irisz continued.
Kari nodded. “My father had the expectation that I would get married and have… a lot of kids,” she explained. “I never really told him the awkward truth of the situation. And then it was too late.”
“I’m sorry.”
Kari shrugged it off. “It was years ago, and I have come to accept the truth of it. And while yes, I still would like to have children, I guess I need to figure out my options to skip the middle bit.”
“Have you considered adopting?”
Kari shot Irisz a disbelieving glance. “Generations of family history wouldn’t let me.”
“Fully understandable,” Irisz noted. “Powerful legacies and all that.”
“On the other hand, I suppose that I managed to miss that awkward conversation,” Kari shrugged. “So you know, small mercies.”
“Dark.”
Kari chuckled a little. “Sometimes you have to find your laughs where you can.”
“You have a point there.”
“Do you think your father would have liked Terry as a son-in-law?”
Irisz looked thoughtful for a moment, then chuckled. “He would have seen that Terry was the potential heir to a well-renowned, large unit and been entirely for it. Anything after that, such as what he was like as a person, would have been secondary.” She laughed.
“Thought so.” Kari smiled warmly.
“And your father, what would he have asked for in a son-in-law?”
“Besides giving him lots of grandchildren?” Kari looked thoughtful for a moment.
“Somebody who would honor and respect me and understand my role as a leader.” She paused. “As well as the understanding that if he didn’t do any of that then my father would hunt him to the ends of the universe.” She chuckled at the last point.
Irisz laughed again. “Entirely reasonable.”
“Carlos Moreno was a loving father and a good leader, but by god you did not want to cross him.”
“And Bors Magyari was a terrible leader, a decent father and the most stupidly casual man you have ever met,” Irisz replied. “Almost to the point where you wonder how he got anything done at all.”
“Skilled subordinates?”
Irisz looked thoughtful for a moment. “Definitely.”
“You gonna be okay?”
Irisz gave a small nod, and a growing smile. “I am. And thank you for this. It means a lot.”
“It’s what friends do,” Kari finished. “And that’s what I’m here for. Not as an ally, not as a member of our secret club, but an actual friend.”
“And I couldn’t ask for more,” Kari nodded as she finished. “Thank you.”
-
People Called Marians, They Go to the House
Cadmus Megaforest
Illyria, Illyrian Province
Marian Hegemony
29 December 3150
“Hey Terry?” Ronnie Raymond asked.
“Yeah?”
“Shouldn’t you be starting some inane conversation about now?”
“Bit busy, Dagger Two,” Terry McKinnon replied as he fired his Phoenix Hawk’s jump jets. The fourty-five ton BattleMech leaped into the air, clearing the treeline and giving him a view of the field below, if only for a moment.
As it came down, he hammered his command channel. “Dagger Lead; have another five light ‘Mechs approaching from three-oh-five degrees.”
“Roger that,” Damien McKinnon’s voice filtered over the channel. “Probably more Threes trying to flank us. Need you to waylay.”
“Roger that,” Terry nodded. The ‘Threes’ were elements of the Hegemony’s III Legio who had made planetfall two weeks ago in order to relieve their beleaguered forces on the world. While they had managed to hook up with the remnants of II Legio, the situation had continued to remain volatile. “Dagger Lance, with me. Let’s give them a warm Marauders welcome.”
Terry pushed forwards, bearing down on the Marian force. A Javelin was the nearest ‘Mech to him, offering an immediate target. Dropping his sights onto the boxy light ‘Mech, he squeezed off a shot with his pulse laser. A stream of brilliant green energy darts stitched a trail of melted metal across the Javelin’s flank, staggering the smaller ‘Mech.
As it stepped back, another pair stepped out of the woods to support it. Standing almost side-by-side, a Clint and Storm Raider both opened fire with their autocannons, sending streams of shells flying at Terry’s ‘Mech. Shots rattled into the Phoenix Hawk’s left arm, worrying the armour but not penetrating it yet. “I think they know we’re here,” Terry commented. “On me, Dagger Lance.”
A trio of affirmatives came across the command channel. Moments later, Ronnie’s Griffin landed next to him, opening fire with its rifle-like PPC. The weapon spat a stream of brilliant blue lighting that slammed into the Clint’s chest, flaying armour off its hull.
“That’s three,” Ronnie observed. “Other two are going to be close.”
“I have one of them,” Dagger Four’s voice cut into the channel. “Twenty-five tons; likely a Commando.”
“Roger that,” Terry confirmed as his Phoenix Hawk advanced on the trio of Marians. “Keep close and do not let them isolate you.” Individually the Marian ‘Mechs were weaker then his, but given a chance to focus their fire, they could be dangerous. Especially as there was a fifth still unaccounted for.
Perhaps seeing that they were outmatched, the two Marian BattleMechs joined the Javelin in backpedalling away from his position. “Don’t let them go,” Terry ordered. “They may be trying to flank around our main force.”
He fired his jump jets again, quickly catching up with the trio of opponents. As he jumped, the three of them opened fire, with most of their shots going wide of the Phoenix Hawk’s arc. Coming down on the other side, Terry targeted the Storm Raider, the closest of the three. His lasers seared into the light BattleMechs’s arm and side, melting through the armour and eating into the structure. While the heat from the weapons battered Terry in the cockpit, the results were hard to argue with.
A second later, Ronnie’s Griffin joined him, letting fly with its particle projector cannon. The results were dramatic, as the brilliant burst of energy slammed into the Storm Raider’s damaged limb, tearing it and the autocannon it mounted apart. The Marian BattleMech staggered back, clearly unbalanced by the damage it had suffered.
“Keep the pressure on, Daggers,” he ordered. “Make sure they don’t-“
An alarm cut him off, with Teerry glancing around to spot the source of the warning, A moment later, a wave of heat hit him with almost physical force as flames washed over his Phoenix Hawk, spiking the cockpit temperature. More overheat alarms sounded, with Terry reflexively slamming the override button on the reactor shutdown controls.
With his ‘Mech suddenly gone from nimble to sluggish, he none the less managed to bring it around enough to spot the source of the attack. A Firestarter had joined the fray, its half-dozen flamers all smoking from their assault. “I found our fifth,” he called out over the command channel as the enemy BattleMech advanced towards him.
The rest of the Marian force were similarly emboldened by the sudden turnaround. Despite the loss of its arm, the Storm Raider charged forwards, its mace raised to strike. It was all Terry could do to open fire with the Phoenix Hawk’s machine guns, the two weapons spitting fire as he tried to pull back from the inevitable.
Whether unbalanced from the loss of its arm or simply the result of a suddenly overconfident MechWarrior, the Storm Raider’s swing went well wide of its mark. As a result, the BattleMech swung around almost drunkenly as the pilot sought to keep their balance.
Not that it discouraged the rest of the Marian unit. The Clint and Javelin both focused their fire on Terry’s ‘Mech, sending autocannon rounds and lasers towards him. Shots struck the Phoenix Hawk’s flank, worrying the armour and rattling the cockpit.
Any success that the Clint’s pilot may have felt was cut short a moment later as Ronnie retaliated with an assault of his own. The PPC struck its already damaged side, smashing through the armour and eating into the frame underneath. Short-ranged missiles joined the assault, smashing into its hull and forcing it back. While not out of the picture yet, it was clear that the BattleMech was withering under the blows.
However, the Firestarter remained a threat. It opened up again with its array of flamers, but rather than targeting either his or Ronnie’s BattleMechs, it had other plans. The flames washed over the trees around them, instantly igniting them. In moments, the forest around them had been transformed into a raging inferno. And as hot as the cockpit of his Phoenix Hawk already was, Terry could see the temperature continuing to climb.
“Okay,” he considered. “Not off to a good start.”
-----
As Zebidiah Craine’s Highlander pulled up next to Legate Kevin Denning’s Goliath, he couldn’t help but appreciate the differences between the two BattleMechs. It wasn’t just that Denning’s machine looked like nothing as much as a tank propped up on a quartet of elephantine legs, but just how worn and battered it looked. Even at this range he could see the mass of field repairs that marred its hull, a stark contrast to his own, pristine-looking BattleMech.
“I appreciate your aid, Legate Craine,” Denning offered over the command channel. “These barbarians have been running us ragged for weeks.”
“Of course, Legate Denning,” he simply replied. “We are all but humble subjects of Caesar, after all.”
III Legio had arrived on Illyria two weeks ago with the aim of reliving its defenders. What they had found was that II Legio was on the run, having lost the planetary capitol to the invaders. To make matters worse, the planet’s governor had been captured by the Tamarind forces, leaving its defenders even further on the back foot.
In order to reverse the situation, Prefect Mohammed Killgore had planned an assault aimed at recapturing the governor and pushing back the invaders. Craine was a part of ensuring that it worked, by tying up the mercenaries that had aided in the invasion.
Should the plan work, III Legio would be the heroes of Illyria and the whole Hegemony. It was an idea that Craine liked.
“We have contact with enemy forces,” Denning reported. “Sending you the information now.” The battered II Legio troops had a clear role in the fight; they were to act as decoys, tying up the enemy to keep them busy while III Legio’s fresher units moved in for the kill.
“Understood,” Craine confirmed before switching channels. “Ballistae Century, fire on enemy locations.”
A moment later a flight of Arrow artillery missiles soared overhead before crashing down among the forest, their impacts marked by clear explosions. While the density of the trees would make it hard to measure the results, he had no doubt that the enemy force had felt the impacts. Meng does have his uses after all, he considered. Especially now that he knows his place.
“All units, advance,” Denning ordered, his Goliath breaking into a stride. Craine followed, his Highlander falling in just behind his fellow’s machine. Reports began to filter in of contact with the enemy forces, followed by the first exchanges of fire.
Another flight of Arrow missiles rained down, this time having a more visible effect. In addition to shredding trees, Craine could see enemy BattleMechs being caught up in the blasts. Marian troops began to close in on their positions, with weapons fire flying back and forth as the two forces began to merge.
“Adjust fire further south,” Craine ordered. “Keep the pressure on their second ranks.” His Highlander continued its advance, closing in on the enemy frontline. Ahead of him he could make out a mercenary Shockwave, already engaged with the II Legio forces. Giving an almost derisive snort, he dropped his sights onto the enemy BattleMech, waiting a moment for a missile lock tone. As soon as it arrived, he opened fire, sending PPC and LRM fire at the enemy ‘Mech. Shots peppered its blocky shoulders, rocking it where it stood.
Seeing a chance, a battered II Legio Lineholder closed in, adding its own laser and missile fire to the assault. Damaged but far from out of the fight, the Shockwave replied with its own weapons, its rotary autocannon spitting fire at its opponent. The Lineholder staggered under the assault, with black smoke erupting from a wound in its side.
II Legio must have been worse off then we thought, Craine considered. Still, as long as they can still draw fire, they will suffice.
He continued his advance, ensuring that his Highlander was well-shielded by the rest of his unit. Another volley slammed into the Shockwave, pummelling the mercenary BattleMech even further. Damaged, it began to stagger backwards to form up with the rest of its lance. Around it, the two forces were beginning to merge, their lines blurring as they exchanged fire.
“This is Spatha One,” Shamus Flannigan’s voice came over the command channel. “I have an enemy lance trying to break through at grid victor-seven-six,” he reported over the command channel. “Possible vanguard of a flanking action. I am creating firebreaks to slow their advance.”
“Understood,” came the reply, Zebidiah Craine’s voice carefully neutral. “Keep the pressure on them, Centurion.” There was a brief pause before he continued, his tone quieter. “I will see that you are well rewarded for your valour.”
“Affirmative,” Flannigan finished as he closed the link. Confident that his subordinate had the situation in hand, he turned back to the battlefield.
A moment later, the Hunchback just ahead of him was pummelled with a flight of long-range missiles. As the boxy ‘Mech tried to maintain its footing, a cloud of metal fragments tore through its right side, shredding weaponry and components. The Hunchback reeled, barely keeping its footing under the assault.
Ahead Craine could see the source of the attack; an Atlas III in the centre of the enemy force. And that will be their leader, he assessed. He turned his ‘Mech to face the attacker as his weapons cycled around. And killing him would be a massive benefit to our cause and my career.
-----
Shamus Flannigan could feel the sweat dripping off his brow as he sweltered in his Firestarter’s cockpit, but he continued his assault regardless. While the heat from his flamers was combining with the forest fire he was creating to produce a hellish inferno, he also knew that his opponents would have it even worse.
“Affirmative,” Shamus finished, well aware of the implication of those last words. He and Craine’s arrangement had been a profitable one so far. The risks of his present situation would certainly be worth whatever rewards were on offer.
“Two and four, maintain fire on present target,” he ordered over his Century’s command channel. “Five, loop back towards my location.” He didn’t have any orders for Torquay, preferring to let him continue to flail away. In its present state, his Storm Raider was little more than a distraction.
Shamus had bigger fish to fry, literally and figuratively.
The area around them was ablaze, sending both the ambient temperature as well as the heat of all the BattleMechs soaring. He knew that the Griffin’s pilot had to be feeling the heat and measuring his options. Staying here would spike his temperature, but using his jump jets to get away would push it even further, forcing him to make a difficult choice.
For all that, however, he knew that the Phoenix Hawk would have it worse. Even among the flames, it stood out on his thermal due to the punishing heat coming off of it. The pilot would be roasting inside the cockpit, and struggling to stop the ‘Mech from shutting down. All of which was a situation he could exploit.
Torquay made another wild swing at the enemy ‘Mech, his mace going well wide of it. As he did, Shamus snapped off another burst of fire from his flamers. Ignoring the heat that washed over him as he did, he instead couldn’t help but smile as the flames battered their target. As expected, the Hawk’s thermals spiked again. Escape or fight crippled, Shamus considered. Your choice.
Behind him the Griffin had chosen to stand with its college, continuing to clash with its two opponents. While the Clint was clearly getting the worst of it, much like the Phoenix Hawk, the Griffin’s heat was rising quickly and far from under control.
“Five, pull back and form up on us,” Shamus repeated over the command channel. So far, the last member of his Century had failed to do as ordered. “Do you read me, over?”
Moments later, as if in response, Five’s icon on his tactical display went dark. “Oh. Hell.”
To confirm his suspicions, another pair of BattleMechs leaped in to join the fray, a Jackalope and Spider. The former was missing an arm and had battered armour across its side, but it was abundantly clear that it had gotten off better for whatever had occurred.
“All units, form up on me,” he ordered. “Concentrate on hit and fade actions; do not stand and fight.” Despite the literal and figurative heat that two of the enemy were facing, Shamus was well aware that the remainder of his Century were outmassed and outgunned. He immediately began to pull back from the Phoenix Hawk, using his flamers to ignite the scrub between them in order to create some cover.
While Torquay’s Storm Raider remained engaged with its opponent, Muller’s Clint pulled up next to him, continuing to fire its autocannon. The response was a hail of laser fire from the newcomers that tore into the BattleMech’s damaged flank, ripping through its structure and vital systems. The Clint reeled, then crashed to the forest floor, hitting hard and going limp. Shamus didn’t need to check the tactical display to know it was out of action.
Time to go. His position was compromised and he was outnumbered. Hopefully he had bought some time for the rest of his Cohort. Firing his jump jets, he vaulted the Firestarter back towards the as yet unburned forest while keeping a close eye on its heat gage. Nearly there... he considered as the ‘Mech came down just short of its goal.
As it did, it suddenly lurched hard to the right, throwing Shamus around in the cockpit. Alarms went off as he fought the controls, desperately stopping the Firestarter from falling. On the damage display, his right leg was lit up an angry red, with multiple actuators reporting damaged or destroyed. And a glance around revealed the source of the attack; the mercenary Griffin, the ‘Mech steaming from all its heat buildup.
Oh hell, he considered as a second ‘Mech entered the picture. The Phoenix Hawk was blackened and clearly limping under the burden of the heat placed on its systems, but as it stepped through the flames towards him, it took on an almost vengeful look.
-----
Zebidiah Craine twisted his Highlander to the right, keeping the blocky assault ‘Mech moving as best it could. As soon as his weapons had cycled, he opened fire on the Atlas III ahead of him, unleashing on the enemy commander. His PPC flayed armour from its leg, while missiles peppered its torso. One of his lasers had the most noticeable effect, stitching a line of fire across its skull-like visage.
If the shot had worried the Atlas pilot, it didn’t show in their retaliation. Their gauss weapon unleashed a hail of metal shards that shredded armour off the Highlander’s chest. Follow-through missiles and lasers further peppered the ‘Mech, rocking it and setting off warning alarms. A glance at his display told him that his armour was ragged across his front, while two of his heat sinks had been destroyed in the assault.
This is not going as I had planned, he grimaced. The Atlas III seemed to be simply shrugging off everything he threw at it, and was giving back far better than it took. The situation was mirrored in the rest of the engagement, with the mercenaries managing to maintain the advantage. The only real consolidation he could take was that Denning’s already damaged forces were doing far worse then his were.
A flight of enemy aerospace fighters passed over the head of Craine’s Highlander, vanishing from his sight. A moment later, loud explosions erupted behind his lines. Swearing under his breath, Craine opened a command channel. “Ballistae Century, report,” he ordered. “Centurion Meng, do you hear me?”
There was no reply, save for the retreating fighters passing back to their own line. I suppose that problem’s dealt with, Craine considered. Just at a very inopportune moment.
He backpedalled his Highlander, stepping over the hulk of a fallen Ostroc. As he did, he opened fire again, feeling the spike of heat as his BattleMech’s degraded cooling system fought the waste that the weapons generated. Shots again slammed into the Atlas, but the monolithic BattleMech seemed unfazed by the damage.
Its reply continued to worry his degraded armour, tearing into the Highlander’s arms and flank. More alarms went off as the armour continued to fail, red lights beginning to fill the cockpit. Not good at all, he realised. Far from defeating the enemy leader, he seemed to have only annoyed them.
Firing his jump jets, Craine pulled further back, hoping to put some of his men between him and his opponent. “Spatha Lead, where are you?’ He demanded.
The Hercules at his side staggered back, reeling under a volley of fire from a mercenary Marauder. As it did, a flight of long-range missiles rained down onto it, enveloping the ‘Mech in a corona of explosions. The Hercules crashed backwards onto the forest floor, its upper half blackened and torn. A quick glance told him that the other BattleMechs around him were little better off.
“Prefect Craine,” Shamus’ urgent voice crackled over the command channel. “My ‘Mech is damaged and I am surrounded. Request immediate support.”
Zebidiah glanced at his tactical display, noting the location of his subordinate’s unit compared to the rest of their forces. “Caesar will remember your valiant sacrifice, Centurion Flannigan,” he simply replied before closing the link.
-----
The armour on Terry’s Phoenix Hawk was blackened and scorched, but he was very much still in the fight. If anything, the drop in the cockpit temperature was relieving simply fro coming down from the raging inferno that it had been. “Okay, Dagger Lance,” he ordered. “Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, let’s get back to the real work.”
He fired his jump jets again, the Phoenix Hawk again vaulting forwards and upwards, clearing the forest canopy. The rest of his lance followed behind him; like his own ‘Mech, they were all blackened and worse for wear, but all of them had reported that they were still operational. Right now, he’d take that.
“Contact with enemy forces,” Dagger Four reported. “Putting it through now.”
Terry’s tactical display lit up with new information, highlighting the positions of both the Marauders and the Marian forces they were engaged with. “Thanks for that, Three,” he replied. “Okay, everyone. Let’s give these guys a little surprise.”
As he cleared the next row of trees, a group of Marian BattleMechs came into view. A four-legged Goliath stood out from others due to both its size and shape, looming over all around it. “Mark your targets, men,” Terry ordered. “Hit and run, but don’t turn this into a slugging match.”
He opened fire on the first ‘Mech along the group, a blocky Apollo that was sending off flights of long-range missiles. The Marian MechWarrior must have noticed the new arrivals as they turned at the last moment to face him. Not that it made much of a difference; Terry’s lasers stitched brilliant streams across its chest, damaging the enemy BattleMech. A moment later a PPC shot slammed into its leg, causing it to stumble.
“Looks like we stumbled into a fire support Century,” Three commented. “Probably with someone important running it too.”
“Roger that,” Terry confirmed as he fired his jets again, leaping away from the Apollo as it tried to follow him, a pair of laser shots ineffectually passing through were he had been. “Two, with me. Let’s introduce ourselves to that Goliath.”
His ‘Mech landed in a crouch on the flank of the massive quad, Terry quickly bringing his weapons to bear. Laser fire scoured its side as the huge machine tried to turn to face him, but didn’t seem to penetrate its thick armour. The Goliath replied with a shot from its particle cannon, the shot going well wide of Terry’s fast-moving BattleMech.
A moment later, Ronnie’s Griffin landed on the other side, lashing it with his PPC and missiles. That had a slightly more appreciable effect, the assault quad staggering a moment, but remaining upright.
“Stephaniou shuffle,” Terry called out as he fired his jets again, ignoring the spiking heat in the cockpit for the moment. His Phoenix Hawk took to the air, twisting in flight as it did to keep the Goliath in his sights before coming down on the other side of the quad ‘Mech. At the same time, Ronnie mirrored the move, his Griffin landing on the other side of its opponent.
Determined to keep the pressure on, Terry opened fire again. His lasers poured fire onto the wounds that Ronnie’s attack had already opened, searing away armour while worrying the structure. At the same time, Ronnie’s assault tore fresh holes in the Goliath’s front and side, shredding the already depleted armour.
That was not enough to stop the enemy BattleMech by any means, however. Despite its LRM targeting being degraded by the close range of its opponents, it was far from harmless. The machine guns mounted in is bow spat fire at Ronnie’s Griffin, whittling armour from its chest. The PPC had a more appreciable affect, however, unleashing a hellish blast of energy that slammed into the BattleMech’s left arm. The limb simply disintegrated under the blast, leaving behind little more then a blackened stump.
“I’m okay,” Ronnie called out as he fired his jets again, once more repositioning to continue the assault. Terry did likewise, even as the Goliath continued to try and track the pair of them.
As soon as he was down, he opened fire on the assault BattleMech, ignoring the heat washing into the cockpit as he did. The shots tore through the already damaged armour, exposing the myomers on one of its forelegs while also opening fresh holes on its flank. And while he couldn’t see what Ronnie’s attack had managed, it was clear that whatever he did had definitely made its mark.
But it also wasn’t enough.
Remaining on its feet during the assault, the Goliath seemed determined to repay the indignity. Its heavy PPC blasted straight into the Phoenix Hawk’s leg, smashing through what little armour remained there. Inside the cockpit, Terry was thrown forward as the BattleMech threatened to topple. A quick twist of the controls allowed him to shift the weight off the damaged leg, but that only served to set off more alarms as the BattleMech stumbled.
Multiple actuators gone at once, leg structure shot to hell. Can barely walk, and jumping is going to be a risk. Terry considered. All kinds of not good.
It was clear that the Goliath’s MechWarrior was aware of what had happened, as he turned the quad to face its downed opponent. “Yeah, really not good,” Terry added as he tried to bring the Phoenix Hawk to its feet, looking up at the mammoth BattleMech looming over him.
Instead it lurched forwards as more shots slammed into its back. For a moment, the Goliath seemed to pause, before suddenly its right side erupted into a massive fireball. It staggered sideways as flames and smoke billowed out from its hull before collapsing sideways onto the ground with a resounding crash.
“You okay there?” Ronnie asked, his one-armed Griffin standing behind the fallen BattleMech.
“Been better,” Terry grunted. “But thanks.” He carefully bought the Phoenix Hawk to its feet, wincing at the sounds that the damaged leg was making as he did. Glancing around, he could see the Apollo that they had engaged earlier pulling back, one side of the ‘Mech reduced to twisted wreckage. A battered Trebuchet was joining it, while still trying to fend off the marauding Spider and Jackalope.
“This is Marauder Actual,” Damien’s voice cut into the command channel. “Whatever you did up there worked. The Marians are pulling back.” There was a brief pause. “Good work, Dagger Lead.”
“Huh,” Ronnie considered. “That almost sounded like a compliment.”
-
Barbarians at the Gates (Part 2)
The arrival of four cohorts of III Legio on Illyria to relieve the beleaguered defenders did somewhat change the situation. By that stage, the Tamarind forces had captured the governor from the remnants of II Legio, giving them the upper hand. However, both the Tamarind and Marian forces on-world were also spent from weeks of fighting. Conversely, while the new arrivals from III Legio had been worn down facing constant opposition in the Gibraltar Salient, they were still fresher then the attackers.
Prefect Mohammed Killgore, the commander of III Legio, made rescuing the governor his top priority. Part of that plan involved ensuring that the Tamarind forces were suitably distracted and divided so that they could not focus their attention on the real objective. To that end, he turned to Legate Kevin Denning from II Legio.
For two weeks, Denning's forces had been skirmishing with McKinnon's Marauders, largely keeping them busy and trying to pin them in place around Bylls. Prefect Killgore partnered his forces with a detachment from III Legio under the command of Legatus Zebidiah Craine, with the goal being to force a conflict so that the mercenaries would be unable to support the rest of the Tamarind forces.
Acting in Prefect Killgore’s authority, Legate Craine took control of the operation. He deliberately deployed Denning’s more depleted II Legio units as a vanguard, essentially using them as expendable troops to wear down the mercenaries before his own forces engaged them. In addition, he deployed light BattleMech centuries to flank the enemy while preventing the mercenaries from doing the same to him.
Despite his planning, Legate Craine was not prepared for what actually happened. The Marauders proved to be more resilient then expected, and held their positions in the face of the combined assault. While his flankers did encounter enemy forces, they did little beyond starting several forest fires before being eliminated.
Now free to act, the Marauders sent a light BattleMech lance to harass the Marians’ rear echelons. They came across Legate Denning’s BattleMech and, after a brief battle, destroyed it and killed him. Deprived of their commander, Denning’s remaining forces chose to withdraw, leaving Craine’s units exposed and facing the mercenaries as well. In short order they also fell back, having failed to inflict significant damage on the enemy. In the aftermath, Legate Craine absorbed the remnants of Denning’s forces into his own, while ensuring that the blame for the debacle fell on the deceased officer.
While the assault did achieve its objective of preventing the Marauders from interfering in Prefect Killgore’s operation, the point was rather moot anyway. Not only did the rescue operation fail, and but Killgore was killed in the process. By the end of December, the last Marian forces had withdrawn from the world, their morale shattered.
- From Mercenary Conflicts of the 32nd Century, Galatean Free Press
-
Knocking on Heaven’s Door
DropShip WCS Aardwolf, Zenith Jump Point
Lipton
Wolf Empire
30 December 3150
Lucius Radick couldn’t help but sneer a little in distaste as he approached the Star Colonel’s room, simply for the other figure who was also there. It did help his feelings a little that Leeandra Connors had the same reaction to him. Nonetheless, he quickly regained his composure as he asked a simple question. “What are you doing here?”
“The Star Colonel wanted to see me,” she responded. “That is also why you are here, quiaff?”
“Aff," he nodded. Not that he had any real idea as to what was actually going on beyond that. Without any further ado, and possibly to simply deny her even the slightest hint of importance, he pushed the button on the door communicator. “Star Captains Lucius Radick and Leeandra Connors, reporting as ordered.”
Leenadra shot him an angry glare simply for him announcing her. That helped ever so much.
The pair of them could not have looked more different if they tried. Lucius had short, slicked hair that was accompanied by a sharp, neatly trimmed goatee beard. Conversely, Leeandra had shaved off half her hair, while the rest was worn long, loose and presently a bright shade of coral pink. That they were both in their uniforms with the same unit and rank insignia only served to emphasise the differences between them.
“Enter, both of you.”
They stepped inside, greeted by the sight of Star Colonel Don Cooper looming over his desk. Heavyset, with thick limbs and broad features behind a neatly trimmed beard, he had a imposing presence despite the clear signs of age creeping up on him. Some had joked that he looked a lot like his Savage Coyote, but only where they were sure they couldn’t hear him.
“I will not mince my words here,” he began. “I have been given orders directly from the Khan as to our next assignment. It is one that is of vital importance to the entire Clan.”
Lucius was about to say something, but was cut off. “Which is why I have called you two here. The pair of you are both Star Captains, and probably the two best MechWarriors that I have. And individually your trinaries have both excelled.”
He slammed a pair of meaty hands down on his desk. “But that does not excuse any of your behaviour,” he continued, the anger clear in his voice. “You two and your stupid rivalry. Ashburton, Skye, wherever else, you are determined to out-do each other. You both make looking good more important than actually achieving your goals.”
The pair of them almost seemed to wilt under his glare, like naughty sibkids caught out by an angry instructor. “Your codexes are full of victories, but so many of them are in Trials brought against you. If the pair of you were not so good and would fight me even if I did try, I would have you both sent to a solahma cluster so you would be somebody else’s problem.”
“I did not watch good warriors die face down in the muck so that you two could have your little pissing match,” he snarled. “And whatever problem you two have with each other, you will put it aside and work together like a pair of actual Bloodnamed warriors, and not a pair of jumped-up ice hellions. Do I make myself clear, quiaff?”
“Aff,” they both snapped off.
“Good,” he finished. “I want all units ready to go immediately, complete with readiness reports on my desk. Dismissed.”
“Star Colonel,” Lucius spoke up. “What is our next assignment?”
There was a tense pause in which Lucius could swear that Leeandra was slowly backing away from him. “When we get there, you will understand why it is so important,” was all the Star Colonel offered in reply.
-
Interlude
From the personal journal of Annika Magyari (redacted)
Sometimes when you should feel relieved, things manage to somehow get worse.
After Nina Raymond’s death, I thought things would settle down some. While we are still in the middle of the Word’s holy war, not having to deal with her personal crusade against us should have taken some of the pressure off. We dealt her unit a severe blow, inflicting considerable losses and capturing one of her sons while forcing the rest of them off-world. And even if her other son takes control of the Roughnecks, he probably doesn’t have the strength to come after us again.
Instead, things only got more complicated. As we were collecting salvage and rounding up the prisoners, I was approached by a group of agents, working on behalf of Alys (Rousset-Marik), our supposed employer. They used their authority to take possession of Nina Raymond’s body, as well as her BattleMech, but didn’t really give me any sort of explanation as to why. And while they did arrange payment for her BattleMech, they didn’t explain what was so important about it.
Their tone made it clear that I was supposed to just agree with them, take my compensation and not ask too many questions. So of course I had to look into it further.
I managed to get some answers, and I wasn’t sure if I liked them. Nina’s body had been confiscated because she had been fitted with bionic implants of the same type found on the Word’s Manei Domini creations. Key among them was a device that allowed her to directly connect her mind to her BattleMech, akin to the enhanced imaging technology used by the Clans, but apparently more advanced and less invasive. Likewise, her BattleMech was modified to allow her to interface with it though this link.
Of course, this then begs one question: why? From all we know about the MDs, there’s some strange religious overtones to their ‘upgrades’ that’s tied to their whole mythology and the mysterious Master (whoever they are). Nina Raymond wasn’t a MD; she wasn’t even a member of the Word at all, just a mercenary in their employ like so many others.
However, there are some other matters that I have to consider. The interrogation of Colin Raymond revealed that Nina had been in the late stages of a rare, fatal and, above all else, incurable medical condition. Furthermore, the Word had known about it, and offered ‘medical assistance’ as a part of their contract. Coming after me was her last play, an attempt to end a long-running feud on her terms before her own death.
Which makes me think. Nina Raymond was likely not acting entirely rationally given all that was going on with her. That would create a set of conditions that the Word could easily use to their advantage. Offering her ‘upgrades’ like that could help secure her loyalty in the guise of enhancing her combat abilities and the like. God alone knows she had me dead to rights there.
Or there could be more going on that I’m not aware of. With the Word, that always seems to be the case.
-
Audio Log #76719-Rho
Gillian Blackrock: Irisz. Thank you for making time to see me.
Irisz Magyari: Always. Whatever it is, I know this will be important.
Blackrock: It’s good to be appreciated.
Magyari: It’s why I bought you on-board. You have a skill for finding things that other people don’t, or would rather you didn’t.
Blackrock: It’s what I do, even if some of your allies don’t fully appreciate it.
Magyari: So what is this about?
Blackrock: I was following up on the intel you passed on from McKinnon, about Hansen’s Roughriders disappearing.
Magyari: Actually that information came from Ronnie Raymond.
Blackrock: Raymond did something useful? I am actually surprised.
Magyari: What did you find?
Blackrock: Two things. The first is that the Roughriders have actually been doing a discreet, staged withdrawal from Galatea for at least a year now. They were quietly moving assets and personnel a little bit at a time so as not to draw too much attention.
Magyari: Given that they were the de facto leaders of the Galatean merc trade, I can see why they’d be discreet about it.
Blackrock: Exactly. However, the really important thing is that nobody knows where they have gone to or why they left. They were very careful to cover their tracks and keep things discreet. And, most importantly, there is no indication that they’ve taken a new contract either. As near as I or anyone else can tell, they just up and left.
Magyari: Very odd.
Blackrock: Which brings me to the next point. I did some research into similar matters and found that over a dozen other mercenary units have also vanished in the last two years. In each case they activated escape clauses in their contracts and simply vanished, taking with them everything they had. And in each case, once again, nobody knows where they have gone.
Magyari: Very odd, but I assume that there’s more to it then simply vanishing units.
Blackrock: Correct. All of these units had several things in common. They were all smaller commands; they all had solid reputations for good conduct and honest dealings, some going back over a century. And above all else, all of them either had ties to the Roughriders, or had worked for the Republic or even Stone’s Coalition in the past.
Magyari: Why didn’t I know about this?
Blackrock: Numerous factors. The current speed at which information travels is the biggest of them, but there’s also issues of scale and notability here. Taken individually, few would notice the pattern. But when you frame this with a context, the connections become clear. I don’t want to sound like a delusional conspiracy theorist here, Irisz, but there clearly is something going on.
Magyari: No, I understand what you mean. I can immediately think of one other unit that ticks all of those boxes; small, good standing and past ties to the Republic to the point where elements of its own history have been redacted.
Blackrock: That was exactly my thought as well.
Magyari: I should go and check my messages again, and see if there isn’t something I have overlooked. Thank you for this.
-
Guest character by Zogster
Jean
Position/Rank: Star Commander
Affiliation/Unit: Clan Wolf/Iota Galaxy
Birth Year: 3120
Bred from a prestigious Ward bloodline that had a long history of producing stellar warriors, Jean had every advantage from the moment he was decanted. He quickly rose above the rest of his sibko, managing to keep them at arm's length and ensuring that they would be focused on each other rather than him. His performance impressed both his instructors and members of the Ward Bloodhouse, which saw him marked as a ristar.
His Trial of Position confirmed their faith in him, with Jean easily defeating two opponents and coming remarkably close to besting his third before he was defeated. Due to his performance, as well as the favour he had earned from members of the Ward Bloodhouse, he was given a position in Alpha Galaxy, rather than being sent to Zeta like many other fresh sibko graduates. As further reward for his performance, and as an indicator of the potential many saw in him, he was assigned a brand new Warwolf.
And after all that, his first real battle would be a complete disaster.
An unknown force, armed with advanced and in some cases entirely unrecognized BattleMechs struck the world where Jean’s unit was assigned. Confident in his abilities, Jean led the defense, only to have everything go horribly wrong. His skills seemingly failed him, with Jean unable to land a single shot throughout the engagement. The rest of his Star fared little better, being quickly outmaneuvered and torn apart by the raider force. Jean’s OmniMech was destroyed, forcing him to eject, but also leaving him as the sole survivor of his Star. The raiders ran rampant, destroying key supplies before escaping.
In the aftermath Jean’s poor performance and place as the only survivor saw him shoulder the blame for the debacle. Not only did he lose the favor of his Bloodhouse, but he was subjected to a sting of Trials against him. By the time thee dust had settled, Jean had managed to maintain his rank, but nonetheless been reassigned to a secondline unit in Iota Galaxy and been given a BattleMech that nobody else wanted.
His fall from grace became even more evident when a position opened up for a Ward Bloodname. Jean was unable to find any sponsors, and instead entered the competition through the Grand Melee. Despite all odds, he was able to triumph and be the last standing. This seemed to earn him the ire of some of his former backers who possibly saw him as an embarrassment due to his past defeat. As a result, in the first round he was placed up against a far more experienced warrior who handily defeated him in single combat.
Despite this, he was assigned to lead a Star of other ‘failing’ trueborn warriors. Collectively unblooded, they all had suffered past failures that had seen them deemed as write-offs and leftovers, and had been deemed not worthy of promotion or reassignment to frontline units. Mindful of his own failure and seeing an opportunity, Jean used his feelings of collective abandonment to help bring the members of the Star together and rebuild them into a cohesive fighting force. While still languishing in a secondline unit with little opportunity to prove themselves, the members of the Star none the less are driven and determined. And, despite his own failures, Jean remains a skilled warrior in his own right, simply needing an opportunity to prove himself.
Tundra Wolf 4 Pudding
Mass: 75 tons
Chassis: TW-2 Endo Steel
Powerplant: Starfire 300 XL
Cruising Speed: 43 kph
Maximum Speed: 64 kph (86 kph w/MASC)
Jump Jets: BMP Series XV
Jump Capacity: 120 Meters
Armour: Beta Compound (Standard)
Armament:
2 Delta-Series Large Pulse Lasers
2 Series 2b Extended Range Medium Lasers
1 Type 9 Series Advanced Tactical Missile System
2 Tau-II Anti-Personnel Gauss Rifles
Comm System: Khan Series (Type 3a) w/Guardian ECM
T&T System: Build 4 MadCat TTS
Any Clan warrior will say that they are completely above petty superstitions and do not believe in curses, jinxes or the like. The Tundra Wolf piloted by Star Commander Jean seems to exist solely to disprove that point.
One of the first examples of the type to walk off the assembly lines, the BattleMech has bounced around the Wolf tourman since its first deployment. Those that have piloted the ‘Mech have been plagued by misfortune, with seemingly nothing going right for them, be it behind the controls or elsewhere. None of them ever accomplished anything in their careers, and more than one died at its controls while leaving the ‘Mech itself relatively undamaged. At some point in its past, its pilot was described as ‘fighting like a pudding’, resulting in the BattleMech developing the nickname Pudding; a name that has stuck ever since.
On his reassignment to Iota Galaxy, Jean as assigned the BattleMech in what many saw as being a natural fit. This lead to other warriors in the Cluster nicknaming him ‘Pudding Wolf’, a name that quickly stuck. Many took to quietly wondering how long he would survive the curse of that one ‘Mech. Instead, despite its bad reputation, so far Jean has performed better with it then he did in his previous Warwolf.
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Bianka Messier
Position/Rank: Knight
Affiliation/Unit: Republic of the Sphere
Birth Year: 3082
The years after the Jihad represented a new age for the Inner Sphere as a whole. After centuries of near-constant warfare, it embraced an era of peace. Many would take this change as an opportunity to break with traditions and forge new directions for their lives.
Born into this age, Bianka Magyari was the first child of Annika Magyari, and as such should have been the heir to their family’s mercenary command. However, in her early twenties, she chose to break with tradition and, with her parents’ blessing, instead emigrated to the Republic of the Sphere. As a way to earn her citizenship, as well as to use the skills that she had picked up so far, she enlisted in the Republic Armed Forces.
Her prior training with her family’s unit served her well, with Bianka earning a billet as a MechWarrior. During exercises, she proved to be not only a capable pilot but also an adept tactician, which saw her promoted and gain an officer’s commission. A firm believer in Devlin Stone’s vision for the Inner Sphere, she also felt that it was necessary to prepare for war in order to preserve peace. As a consequence, her unit remained well-prepared for the possibility of armed conflict.
During this time she met her future husband, Jacques Messier, a Republic supply clerk. After they married, she chose to take his name as a further break with her family’s past.
Her defining moment came in 3109 on Algol. An industrial accident, caused by poorly-maintained and aged equipment, started a chemical fire that threatened to quickly spread and consume a major city. Thinking quickly, Bianka deployed her unit to contain the fire in order to prevent catastrophe, using their ‘Mechs and tanks to create firebreaks, move equipment and aid firefighting crews. Bianka put her own life on the line when she drove her ‘Mech into the blaze to rescue personnel that were trapped inside and could not otherwise be extracted.
Her quick thinking and bravery earned her a commendation from the planetary governor, as well as recognition from the RAF command. At their recommendation, Bianka was promoted to the rank of Knight-Errant in 3110, effectively moving her into the upper echelons of the Republic’s military machine. This move served to only enhance her faith in the Republic and its goals, as well as the necessity of her position within in.
As a newly-minted Knight-Errant, she saw action during the Capellan Crusades, fighting CCAF invaders on several worlds. This included being a part of the incursion into Capellan space and the assault on Sarna, where she faced off against some of the best that the enemy had to offer. Bianka was credited with multiple kills during the campaign, and was further recognized for her actions. She would be later promoted to full Knight, a position she maintained for the rest of her career.
Following two decades of relatively peaceful service, she chose not to renew her commission and retire from the RAF in early 3132. While intending to focus on more peaceful endeavors, her plans were disrupted by the Blackout and the subsequent chaos that enveloped the Republic of the Sphere. With the formation of Fortress Republic, she chose to reenlist with the RAF. Recognition of prior service saw her returned to her previous rank, even if she still needed to requalify.
Bianka took part in the Republic’s ‘clean-up’ operations behind the Wall, and has remained on active duty since. Her prior experience has made her a part of training new RAF personnel and preparing them for action against the Capellan Confederation, but she feels that there are other, greater threats that need to be addressed.
For the moment, Bianka’s husband and children are safe behind the walls on Terra. She maintains a warm relationship with her younger brother, Lorand. Like her, he chose to emigrate to the Republic, but chose to follow an entirely non-military career. Conversely, even before the Blackout, she had little contact with Bors Magyari, who she saw as being something of a regressive due to his decision to continue the family mercenary command.
DLR-O Doloire
Mass: 80 tons
Chassis: Titan Special-DAA Endo-Composite
Powerplant: Light Force 320 XL
Cruising Speed: 43 kph
Maximum Speed: 64 kph
Jump Jets: None
Jump Capacity: None
Armour: ArcShield VII Mk 7
Armament:
2 Series 2f Extended Range Medium Lasers
2 Delta-Series Large Pulse Lasers
1 EMRG “Galaxy” Series Gauss Rifle
Comm System: Telestar Model XTD 131 with Angel ECM Suite
T&T System: Starlight Adjustable LX-8
During her career with the Republic Armed Forces, Bianka Messier piloted a number of different BattleMechs. Possibly the most important of those would be the Thunderbolt that she used on Algol, and later during the Capellan Crusades. After her retirement, that ‘Mech would be reassigned to other MechWarriors, and see further action in other engagements.
On her reenlistment and requalification, Bianka was assigned a factory-fresh Doloire OmniMech as a mark of respect to her prior experience, as well as the new role that the Knights were expected to play in the reformed RAF. While not a design that she had used before, she quickly adapted to it and proved to be as capable as she had been in past. While aware of the options that an OmniMech represented, she prefers the Prime configuration for both its long-range firepower as well as the phenomenal accuracy of its lasers.
So far, the ‘Mech has served her well in various engagements inside the Wall, as well as exercises to prepare for what may come next. She has proven to be especially adept at precise, long-range fire, hitting targets that many would normally consider to be out of reach. Perhaps recognising that the OmniMech belongs to the nation, rather than her specifically, Bianka has chosen not to give it a name.
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Keyhan Beziz
Position/Rank: Knight
Affiliation/Unit: Republic of the Sphere
Birth Year: 3103
While they had been mercenaries for generations, the Beziz family transferred their loyalty to the Republic of the Sphere after its creation. Members of the family would serve it in a number of different roles across the decades, including after the walls of Fortress Republic went up.
Keyhan was born in the Republic, and grew up during a period of relative stability for the Republic and the Inner Sphere as a whole. Both as a way to secure his Republic citizenship and in recognition of his family’s past, he enlisted in the Republic Armed Forces. Graduating as a MechWarrior, he was assigned to in Prefecture IV in a Republic line unit. Taking advantage of what was seen as an era of relative peace, he planned to serve for a decade before retiring and moving on to other endeavors.
Fate would have other plans. The HPG Blackout threw the Republic into chaos, with Prefectures III and IV being the most immediately disrupted. Keyhan would end up facing enemies from within, both in the rise of the various splinter factions within the Republic, as well as defections from the RAF and Standing Guard units.
Over the first two years of the Blackout, far from the peaceful retirement he had expected, he saw combat on numerous occasions. In one notable example on Algot, he waylaid a force from the notorious Band of Five, helping to heard the raider forces and direct them away from civilians while waiting for reinforcements to arrive. While he was injured in action, Keyhan’s quick thinking saved countless lives.
The situation would only escalate with the Liao Incursion into the Republic. Soon he was facing off against not only splinter factions and insurgents, but frontline CCAF troops. While the RAF did the best that they could to contain the situation, even going so far as to work alongside members of those splinter factions that opposed the Capellans, the situation quickly became untenable. By the middle of 3135, his unit had withdrawn to Prefecture X. They remained there when the walls of Fortress Republic went up.
Both as a recognition of his efforts, as well as a part of the reoganisation of the RAF inside Fortress Republic, Keyhan was promoted to the rank of Knight-Errant. His first actions as a Knight were a part of the Republic’s housecleaning efforts within the Republic, that saw him face of with and put down various splinter groups and terrorists within the walls. Key among them was the elimination of the last remnants of the Senate rebellion on Liberty, where Keyhan faced off with and defeated rebellious elements of the world’s Standing Guard.
His efforts to aid the Republic were further rewarded in 3140 with a promotion to full Knight. Much of the last decade has been spent on training new recruits and helping them to prepare for what will come next. While he fully expected to be a part of those Republic forces sent beyond the Wall, he instead would find himself reassigned to Terra as a part of the RAF’s fortification of humanity’s homeworld. In many ways, this proved to be a sobering moment for Keyhan, as he realised the enormity of the situation.
Keyhan’s husband and two children were on Asta when it fell to the Draconis Combine; their present whereabouts are unknown. He has other relatives who were outside the walls of the Fortress when they went up that he has not heard from since. There is one oddity to Keyhan’s family past, however. His family have long claimed to be descended from nobles from the world of Tangerz. However, no records of that world have so far been located. Furthermore, efforts within the Republic to follow up on the matter usually result in obvious, deliberate dead ends.
LMT-2R Lament Redline
Mass: 65 tons
Chassis: Skobel Template 10 Endo Steel
Powerplant: VOX 325 XL
Cruising Speed: 54 kph
Maximum Speed: 86 kph
Jump Jets: None
Jump Capacity: None
Armour: Krupp 205 Light Ferro-Fibrous
Armament:
2 Magna Supernova Heavy Particle Projector Cannons
3 Diverse Optics Sunfire Extended Range Medium Lasers
Comm System: Skobel Wave VII Comm
T&T System: Falcon 15 Watcher
The various BattleMechs that Keyhan Beziz had piloted across the years all had two things in common. The first was that they all were primarily armed with energy weapons. The second is that he would constantly push them hard, aggressively riding their heat curves and pushing them to the limit. While risky, this behavior had served him well in his battle against the Republic’s enemies during the early days of the Blackout.
As a part of his promotion and the reorganisation of the RAF, Keyhan was assigned a relatively new Lament. The BattleMech seemed ideally suited to him, with the combination of its heavy energy loadout and radical heat sink system that allowed him to push its heat as far as he could. If anything, the configuration has served only to further encourage him to take risks on the battlefield, an approach that has so far worked well for him.
So far, the pairing has been a success, with Keyhan performing well in his ‘Mech, which he rather appropriately nicknamed Redline, performing well in both live combat and training exercises. So far the only downside seems to be coming from the new recruits he is training, who seem to be picking up bad habits under his instruction.
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Guest Character by KayEmm
Tariku Noab Adani
Position/Rank: Knight
Affiliation/Unit: Republic of the Sphere
Birth Year: 3101
Despite humanity’s spread across thousands of worlds, there are those who have remained close to their ancestral home. Tariku Noab Adani’s family have lived on Terra, proudly racing back their lineage to before the era of spaceflight, and have had a long history of service to their world. Members of the family have served with both the SLDF and ComStar in past. Likewise, they have fought against those who sought to occupy their world, be it Amaris, the Word of Blake or anyone else.
With the formation of the Republic, they pledged their loyalty to the new nation and its founder, Devlin Stone. Members of the family have served with the Republic Armed Forces since their inception, with many of them being career soldiers. Tariku was among them, proudly volunteering to protect not only his homeworld but also the Republic as a whole.
Graduating as a MechWarrior, Tariku was assigned to a Republic line unit far from Terra, on the borders of Prefecture VII. While this was still an era of peace, the tensions between the Republic and the nations of the former Free Worlds League meant that his unit were constantly on the watch for cross-border incursions or the like.
The biggest threat that he would face came not from any of those states, but rather another, unexpected quarter. In 3130, while on Holt, his unit came under attack by a terrorist group piloting several decrepit BattleMechs adorned with Blakist imagery. While their goals were unclear, the terrorists were unquestionably hostile in their intent. Using his speed and mobility, he headed off the attackers and disabled their forces, but was injured in the process.
His actions bought him to the attention to the Council of Paladins, who promoted him to the rank of Knight-Errant for his bravery and tactical skill. The early years of his knighthood would be spent fighting against the Republic’s internal enemies following the Blackout, trying to restore order in a rapidly deteriorating situation. While he made his contempt for those that had betrayed the Republic clear, Tariku saw Bannson's Raiders as the worst of them, being driven by simple greed rather than any ideology.
In 3134 he was involved in fighting against the Jade Falcons during their desant into Prefecture IX. While he would score several kills in battle against the Clan invaders, his forces were ultimately unable to hold them back. Retreating back to Prefecture X, he fully expected to be redeployed. Instead, he was surprised by the formation of Fortress Republic, a move that left him torn. On one side, Terra was now safe from predation. On the other, the Republic was seemingly abandoning its people.
After some soul-searching, Tariku came to understand the logic of the choice, as distasteful as it may have been. If Terra could stand, then the Republic and all that it stood for could be reborn. Promoted to full Knight status, he became a part of the restructuring of the RAF and the raising of a new generation of soldiers to defend humanity’s home.
As preparations have begun to protect Terra itself from invasion, he has a feeling of history repeating itself, recalling his ancestors who also fought to defend their homeworld. His only hope is that he won’t have to do such as a guerrilla like his forbears did.
Pack Hunter II Ashtar
Mass: 30 tons
Chassis: Type AR1 Endo Steel
Powerplant: Light Force 210 Extra Light
Cruising Speed: 76 kph
Maximum Speed: 118 kph
Jump Jets: Leaper Model L5
Jump Capacity: 210 meters
Armour: Royal-7a Ferro-Fibrous
Armament:
1 Ripper A1 Series Extended Range Particle Projector Cannon
2 Series 2b Extended Range Medium Lasers
Comm System: Trueborn Ultra 945B
T&T System: Hunter 5 Dedicated TTS
While most Republic MechWarriors will go through multiple BattleMechs during their career, Tariku Noab Adani has spent almost all of his in the same one. During his first tour of duty, he was assigned to a Pack Hunter II that had been purchased by the Republic decades ago. He took an immediate liking to the ‘Mech, appreciating its speed and mobility, which, in combination with its long-ranged weapon, allowed him to pick his battles. The combination would serve him well during the Holt crisis, where he was able to run rings around the terrorist BattleMechs and pick them apart.
After his promotion to Knight-Errant, Tariku was offered a heavier BattleMech, but he turned down the opportunity. Instead, he felt that his skills would be better suited to Ashtar, as he had dubbed the ‘Mech, while somebody else would get better use out of a heavier design. His performance against the Republic’s enemies following the Blackout validated his stance, as he scored numerous kills in various battles.
Tariku prefers to remain mobile during battles, and will try to encircle his enemies to strike them from their flanks or rear where possible. He also serves to drive them into larger forces, living up to the BattleMech’s name. Recently, he has also served a new role as an OpFor trainer, emulating the tactics used by Jade Falcon and Wolf forces in preparation for what many see as being inevitable.
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Erzhan Fletcher
Position/Rank: Knight
Affiliation/Unit: Republic of the Sphere
Birth Year: 3105
With his bright tattoos, flamboyant hairstyles and looming presence, Erzhan Fletcher does not look like the image one associates with a Republic Knight. None the less, he is one of the most dedicated and loyal believers in the Republic of the Sphere, despite the perilous circumstances that it finds itself in.
A trueborn from a MechWarrior line, Erzhan was decanted into the Hell's Horses enclave on the Republic world of Ruchbah. One of the strongest and most capable members of his sibko, he proved to be a promising warrior in his training exercises. Furthermore, he also proved to be a natural leader in his own right, serving as the impromptu leader of his sibko and helping them to improve their performance. Erzhan easily passed through his Trial of Position, earning him an officer’s billet in the Republic Armed Forces.
Even though he was entering service in an age of peace, he also understood the necessities of preparing for war. To his troops, Erzhan was a demanding taskmaster, but also a fair one. He pushed his men hard in drills and training exercises, but also helped to support them and ensure that they were well looked after, seeing their morale and well-being as just as important as their combat skills. He especially favoured combined-arms exercises, working with as many unit types in the field as possible.
His preparations would prove vital in an incident on Algol in 3129. A terrorist group ambushed the Governor’s motorcade, using stolen battle armour and IndustrialMechs to isolate them on a bridge. Erzhan’s unit had been undertaking exercises in the area, giving them a thorough knowledge of the terrain. Using that to his advantage, he led a rescue operation on foot that disabled several of the terrorist units and allowed the governor to escape. This created an opening that allowed the Algol Planetary Guard to move in and deal with the hostiles.
For his actions, Erzhan was recommended for a knighthood, as well as sponsored for the Fletcher Bloodname. Traveling to the Hell's Horses OZ to compete proved to be enlightening for him, illustrating the stark differences between life in the Republic and the treatment of civilians under Clan rule. This, combined with his victory in the Bloodname contest, made him even more dedicated to the Republic and its ideals. Upon his return, he accepted the nomination.
His next action would come in 3133 following the Blackout. A Steel Wolf force attempted to seize the Ruchbah enclave, looking to bolster their strength with ‘pure’ Clan warriors. Erzhan rallied both the Enclave’s militia force and the depleted Planetary Guard to hold off the Wolf attack, turning what they had hoped would be a quick strike into a drawn-out campaign. After Erzhan killed the Wolf leader in one-on-one combat, the rest of the attacking force chose to withdraw rather than risk further losses.
Erzhan Fletcher was with the Republic when it activated the Fortress Protocols, collapsing its territory in towards Terra. While he hated the idea of abandoning its people and its worlds, including his home, he also understood the necessity of the situation. Instead, he dedicated himself to helping the RAF to prepare for whatever would come next through training its troops. His intimate knowledge of Clan tactics has proven to be especially helpful, given the threats that emerged.
While he is a trueborn from a Clan background, Erzhan feels no loyalty towards those Clans that are presently threatening the Republic. Instead, he sees himself as a Republic citizen above all else.
Jupiter 2 Brumby
Mass: 100 tons
Chassis: Olivetti Stage 9
Powerplant: Gorvachs 300 XL
Cruising Speed: 32 kph
Maximum Speed: 54 kph
Jump Jets: Grandthrust Mk V
Jump Capacity: 90 meters
Armour: Raydiant Series 5
Armament:
2 Type 9 Ultra AC/10
2 Type XX Extended Range PPCs
2 Series IV LRM-15
Comm System: Raptor X-T Series III
T&T System: Goshawk E-Series
While hard to believe given the current state of war, the Republic of the Sphere used to have good relations with Clan Jade Falcon. During the early years of the nation, the Falcons sold them weapons, including BattleMechs, to help build up their forces. The Jupiter presently piloted by Erzhan Fletcher was one such example, having served with the Republic Armed Forces for its entire active career.
Having shown a preference for heavier BattleMechs during his career, Erzhan Fletcher was assigned to the Jupiter following his promotion to Knight. The two proved to be a good match, the BattleMech’s firepower and thick armour suiting his aggressive style, while its jump jets gave it a degree of mobility that few expected from its size. This combination served him well on Ruchbah, where he defeated Star Captain Syd Vickers Mad Cat Mk II in a duel.
Having piloted the same BattleMech in war and peace for two decades, Erzhan has a strong understanding of its capabilities and limitations. He also is aware that its own capabilities can only carry him so far, and true success comes from working a part of a unit, a fact that he drills into his subordinates. While not strictly ‘his’ BattleMech, few would deny him the right to use it as he sees fit.
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Jarrie Scire
Position/Rank: Captain
Affiliation/Unit: Mercenary/Hansen’s Roughriders
Birth Year: 3117
While there are many families that have been mercenaries for generations, relatively few have been tied to a specific unit over time. The Scire family are one of those rare cases, with members of the family having served with Hansesn’s Roughriders since that unit’s formation. Distantly related to the Hansen family, members of the Scire family have seen action as a part of the unit form their heights in the Fourth Succession War to the brutality of the Jihad. Even during the age of peace when numerous mercenary units, the Roughriders included, reduced their forces, the Scire family remained a part of the active roster.
Jarrie Scire was the only child of Darius Scire, a veteran officer. A stern and demanding man, Darius expected that his child would follow in his footsteps, and pressed on them the importance of their family’s history and legacy at every stage. If Jarrie had any objections to his father’s plan, they never voiced them, and instead followed along with it. Whether that was out of loyalty to that legacy or just not being willing to defy his father was another matter.
At first, Jarrie proved to only be a mediocre MechWarrior; not bad by any degree, but at the same time, far from exceptional. In an era where MechWarriors were still rare, they nonetheless failed to stand out on his own. Guaranteed a billet with Hansen’s Roughriders due to their background, they wound up as a mere MechWarrior in a heavy lance, blending into the background among their more prominent and skilled lancemates.
Darius Scire’s death on the battlefield in 3139 came as a shock to Jarrie, but also served to be something of a catalyst. If they had any hesitation about their dedication to the unit and their role within it, it was quickly dispelled. Instead, they became far more driven in their actions, demonstrating both a level of skill and determination that they had never shown before. Within a year, Jarrie had turned into a terror on the battlefield, relentless and unforgiving. This change bought them to the attention of the Roughriders’ leadership, and saw them quickly promoted to command their own lance.
Following the defection of Captain Casey Duncan and her own renegade company, Jarrie was promoted again to the rank of captain. They were given the broad authority to reform the remnants of Duncan’s command as they saw fit, a task they took to with ease. In short order, Jarrie had proven to be every bit as much a harsh taskmaster as their father had been, demanding much of their charges in terms of both skill and loyalty. While there would be numerous washouts as a result of Jarrie’s relentless approach, the result was a remarkably tight-knit and resilient command.
The reborn unit proved itself in 3144 during the invasion of Galatea by Jade Falcon forces. Jarrie led the company from the front, both driving on their troops while contributing to the battle proper. While their BattleMech was destroyed during the battle, their company were still victorious, driving back their opponents. Jarrie was commended for their actions, as well as the discipline and determination that they had instilled into their charges.
As a part of the Galatean Defense League, Jarrie has served as a trainer for both their own forces and other allied mercenaries. They have proven to be every but as harsh and demanding with these charges as they have with those within the Roughriders, but again the results have been effective no less. They have also been just as effective on the battlefield against a variety of opponents, both individually and as a commander.
AWS-11H Awesome Roadblock
Mass: 80 tons
Chassis: Technicron Type G Endo Steel Special
Powerplant: Pitban 240 Fusion
Cruising Speed: 32 kph
Maximum Speed: 54 kph
Jump Jets: None
Jump Capacity: None
Armour: Durallex Heavy
Armament:
3 Fusigon Heavytooth Heavy Particle Projector Cannons
1 Diverse Optics Extended Range Small Laser
Comm System: Garett T19-G
T&T System: Dynatec 2780
Hansen’s Roughriders have always preferred heavier BattleMechs and tanks, and members of the Scire family have been no exception. Darius Scire piloted an Awesome that had been salvaged from the battlefields of the Jihad and remained in the unit since. Following his death, the BattleMech was passed to Jarrie, who quickly adapted to its bulk and lack of mobility, but also developed an obvious liking for its brutal, unrelenting firepower.
After Jarrie’s BattleMech was destroyed on Galatea, the unit replaced it with a brand-new 11H model Awesome. This ‘Mech proved to be well suited to their relentless approach, allowing them to simply stand and deliver, unleashing volleys of heavy PPC fire. The BattleMech has proven to be a terror, both to its opponents as well as those charges that Jarrie is training.
Jarrie prefers to lead their company from the front, but at the same time, they remain tactically astute and understand how best use its abilities. They fight effectively as a part of a team, using other units to compensate for their lack of mobility. Because of its resilience, as well as their own determination while at it controls, Jarrie has nicknamed the BattleMech Roadblock.
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Guest character by Zogster
Tammy McLandsborough
Position/Rank: Knight
Affiliation/Unit: Republic of the Sphere
Birth Year: 3101
Born and raised on Skye during the height of the Republic, Tammy McLandsborough grew up in an age of peace and prosperity. While she was proud of her Skye heritage, she considered herself to be a citizen of the Republic first and foremost, and wholeheartedly embraced the nation as her own. While acutely aware of Skye’s long history of rebellion against the Lyran state, she felt that under the Republic, the world and its people were better represented and had a much greater say in their own destiny.
Tammy joined the Republic Armed Forces not just in order to earn her citizenship, but also out of a genuine desire to serve the people of Skye and the Republic as a whole. Not only did she qualify as a MechWarrior, an increasingly rare privilege during that period, but she also showed considerable aptitude as both a tactician and a leader. Her natural charisma and willingness to work with others earned her an officer’s billet in a Republic line regiment, a position she proved to be well suited for.
While she could have retired after her first tour of duty, Tammy instead chose to stay with the RAF. In the years before the Republic, she was among those who were tracking the Lyran Commonwealth’s increasing belligerence, and devised a number of scenarios for dealing with an active incursion by that nation. Instead, her first real challenge would come from a completely unexpected direction.
The HPG Blackout threw the Republic into chaos, its multicultural population erupting into ethnic violence and armed conflict in several prefectures. While initially Prefecture IX was spared such disruptions, Tammy worked hard to ensure that its worlds would be protected from any threats, both without and within. She helped to rally local forces, and prepare for the possibility of war. However, she would be disappointed by the formation of the Stormhammers, which not only drew their forces from the ranks of the RAF, but also were seemingly driven by the sort of Lyran nationalism that she saw as a threat.
Tammy’s forces would clash with the Stormhammers and other belligerents, but it was the Jade Falcon desant into the Republic that would prove to be the greatest threat. Tammy fought in both the first successful defense of Skye, then the second unsuccessful one, acquitting herself well in both situations. While she rankled at fighting alongside the Stormhammers and Steel Wolves, she also saw the necessity of the situation to defend against the greater danger to the Republic and its people.
Her unit was among those that were recalled to Prefecture X before the creation of Fortress Republic. During the reorganisation of the RAF, she was promoted to the rank of Knight in recognition of her efforts, and tasked with helping to integrate those remaining forces from Prefecture IX. Among other matters, she was tasked with devising options for retaking Skye, an idea she quietly relished. Not only did she want to reclaim the world from the Republic, but also she wished to free its people from the horrors they were doubtless suffering under Falcon rule.
The failure of Operation SHOFAR saw those plans pushed aside, as the Republic was now forced to fight for its very survival. While she still hopes to one day free her homeworld, Tammy instead is focused on the task ahead of her, knowing that it is far more important; protecting Terra, the future of the Republic, and that of all mankind.
Vulture Mk III (Mad Dog Mk III) Prime
Mass: 60 tons
Chassis: Bergan Version 8.3 Endo Steel
Powerplant: Vlar 300 XL
Cruising Speed: 54 kph
Maximum Speed: 86 kph
Jump Jets: None
Jump Capacity: None
Armour: Compound 24B2 FF
Armament:
4 Type XX “Great Bow” LRM-20 launchers
6 Series 7Ja Extended Range Medium Lasers
Comm System: Dash-2 Optima
T&T System: Hakkon-Morris LAP
An update to a classic OmniMech design, the Vulture Mk III is focused primarily on missile-based fire support configurations. Developed by the Rasalhague Dominion, a number of examples were sold to the Republic of the Sphere during the years of the Pax Republica. The example piloted by Tammy McLandsborough was assigned to her in the years before the Blackout and has remained her BattleMech of choice ever since.
A tactician and leader first and foremost, Tammy does not seek out personal glory on the battlefield. Instead, she works with others to support their actions, focusing on what will get the job done. She prefers to fight from the middle ranks of a formation, raining down deadly accurate, withering long range missile fire on her opponents. Tammy is especially proficient at indirect fire attacks, often catching her targets unawares.
While she has piloted the BattleMech for nearly two decades, Tammy still sees it as belonging to the Republic first and foremost. As such, she has chosen not to give it a name.
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Guest character by Zogster
Luke Vasili
Position/Rank: Knight
Affiliation/Unit: Republic of the Sphere
Birth Year: 3112
Luke Vasili has had a strange path to Knighthood, especially given that he was functionally cut off from the rest of the Republic for many years. Regardless of circumstances, he is clearly loyal to his nation and a resourceful MechWarrior.
Born in Prefecture VII, Luke came from a Free Worlds League background. During his education, he became acutely aware of the League’s history and how it had been weakened by internal divisions and regional politics, to the point where the Word of Blake were able to effectively take over the nation. This background made him an ardent supporter of the Republic, and the ideals of unity and peace that it stood for.
Luke enlisted with the Republic Armed Forces, a move that was as much out of dedication to the state as it was his desire to earn his citizenship. Qualifying as a MechWarrior, he earned a place in a line unit that was tasked with defending the Republic from external threats.
Instead, the opponents that he wound up facing would come from within. The HPG Blackout led to chaos within the Republic as it erupted into violence. At first, Luke was dealing with pro-League separatists and rebels, but as the Blackout continued those groups became more organised and better equipped. Groups like the Free Eagles and White Hand were one thing, but soon he was fighting the Spirit Cats and members of Bannson’s Raiders, as well as probing attacks from the former Free Worlds states.
However, the greatest challenge would come from the highest reaches of the Republic’s leadership. The Senate Rebellion saw Luke facing off against members of the Republic government, leading Republic troops against their fellows. Despite these threats, he was able to maintain a small, ragtag unit that held their loyalty to the Republic. Rapidly gaining experience on the battlefield, Luke became highly adept at small-unit operations, engaging in skirmishes and hit-and-run operations against larger enemy forces.
Outwardly, Luke and the remnants of his unit were trapped outside of the walls of Fortress Republic when they went up. For the next decade, they would make sporadic appearances across what had formerly been Prefectures VI, VII and VIII, engaged in raids and strikes on a variety of opponents. At first they faced mainly the Marik-Stewart Commonwealth and Spirit Cats, striking both as they fought over several worlds. However, during HAMMERFALL, Luke’s attention switched to Lyran and Wolf forces. In its aftermath, he would again refocus on the Wolf Empire.
Beyond simply attacking what opponents he found, Luke also aided the isolated remnants of Republic forces, or even those who simply still supported the nation. He provided them with weapons, equipment and intelligence, much of which seemed to go well beyond simply what he had come into over the course of his operations. Those forces would in turn engage in actions against the forces occupying their worlds, with Luke often seemingly appearing out of nowhere to support them.
Unfortunately, many of these groups were lost during the disaster of Operation SHOFAR. Luke himself would disappear, only to emerge on Terra where he was promoted to the rank of Knight in recognition of his efforts. However, given some of his past actions, it is entirely possible that this recognition is merely a public face for a completely different position.
Goshawk (Vapor Eagle) 7
Mass: 55 tons
Chassis: GS-1E Endo Steel
Powerplant: Fusion 330 Extralight
Cruising Speed: 64 kph
Maximum Speed: 96 kph (130 kph w/MASC, 162 kph w/MASC and Supercharger)
Jump Jets: None
Jump Capacity: None
Armour: Raven Comp B Ferro-Fiberous
Armament:
1 Type DDS “Kingston” Extended Range Particle Projector Cannon
1 Zeta Series-X Plasma Cannon
10 Series 3c Micro Pulse Lasers
Comm System: GBX Series Integrated
T&T System: Type 13e with Targeting Computer
During the course of his RAF service and his later guerilla actions, Luke Vasili piloted a variety of BattleMechs. Initially assigned a Legionnaire, he would later apparently use whatever he had at hand, from a decrepit Wolfhound to a salvaged Wolf Empire Fenris. In each case, he preferred fast-moving BattleMechs that suited his aggressive, hit-and-run combat style.
On several occasions, however, he was sighted piloting a Goshawk 7. An eccentric variant of an already eccentric BattleMech, the origin of the variant is not entirely clear as it matches to no known production model. It was first sighted after the implementation of Fortress Republic, and used in attacks against the various forces occupying that nation’s former worlds, such as those Vasili engaged in.
Following his return to Terra and promotion to Knight, Luke was rewarded with a brand-new Goshawk 7. The BattleMech, which trades its signature jump jets for MASC and a heavier weapons load, suits his aggressive, fast-moving style of combat. While he aggressively pushes the ‘Mech to its limits, it is also clear that he well understands its capabilities and how to best employ them.
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Guest character by KayEmm
Jayce Walkinshaw
Position/Rank: Captain
Affiliation/Unit: Mercenary/Red Right Hand
Birth Year: 3115
On the outside, the Red Right Hand seem like any other small mercenary unit. Functional if not spectacular, they are mostly notable for keeping their noses clean and maintaining a good reputation, while managing to survive for over a century through the highest and lowest points of the mercenary trade. Otherwise its most notable engagements came during the Jihad, when the unit worked for the Coalition in fighting the Word of Blake. Likewise, in its aftermath, it saw employment by the fledgling Republic of the Sphere.
Under the surface, the truth is that the unit are much more than they seem. They are adept at unconventional warfare, guerrilla actions, ambushes and other dirty tricks, and perhaps most importantly, covering their tracks. Many members of the unit are trained in a variety of disciplines, allowing them to quickly adapt to changing circumstances.
Jayce Walkinshaw, the current leader of the unit, reflects its dual nature. Outwardly, he is an almost stereotypical ‘cowboy’ mercenary, a swaggering braggart with little love for authority and a habit of self-promotion. Flamboyant and with a long history of affairs behind him, Jayce seems more concerned with his own luxuries than running the unit.
However, under that is an entirely different story. Jayce has carefully crafted an image to present to the world to ensure that he is underestimated and dismissed. In truth, he is a canny commander with a strong ability to read a situation and adapt appropriately, while best using those assets at his disposal. That is not to say that everything he does is an act; he enjoys his pleasures and takes those opportunities when they present themselves. It is more that he knows when to moderate them and when to focus on the real matters at hand.
His path to this position came about largely by accident. Jayce was a war orphan, picked up by the Red Right Hand during a Periphery contract after he was caught sneaking into their encampment to steal supplies. Impressed by his courage and how far he had managed to get through their defenses before being picked up, the members of the unit took him under their wing. Starting out as more of a mascot than anything else, Jayce quickly showed that he had picked up a broad range of skills, while also proving eager to learn more.
Starting out as a scout, Jayce managed to impress the right people with his tenacity and resourcefulness. Like many members of the unit, he cross-trained in a variety of other skills, and proved to have an aptitude for BattleMech combat. This saw him offered a place as a MechWarrior, an opportunity that he jumped at without a moment’s hesitation. Success on the battlefield saw him promoted and bought him to the eyes of the unit’s leadership. He also demonstrated a willingness to do whatever was needed in order to achieve a desired outcome, an element that was key to the unit’s culture.
In 3144, Jin Matsuraga, the then-leader of the unit, was badly injured in combat, and chose to step down from the position. He nominated Jayce as his replacement, citing his rapid growth and adaptability, as well as his clear commitment to continuing their operations and practices. Jayce accepted the responsibility, and was given the clear support of the unit’s other officers.
Under Jayce’s leadership, the Red Right Hand have accepted numerous contracts that have focused on anti-Clan operations. While they have so far been successful, Jayce has been careful to look into his employers, and has begun to find evidence that not all of them were in fact who they claimed to be. Rather, it was possible that they represented another power operating through proxies.
KSC-5X Koschei The Claw
Mass: 65 tons
Chassis: Earthworks KSC II Endo Steel
Powerplant: VOX 325 XL
Cruising Speed: 54 kph
Maximum Speed: 86 kph
Jump Jets: Swingline X-1200
Jump Capacity: 150 Meters
Armour: Maximillian 40
Armament:
1 Diverse Optics Large Pulse Laser
1 Diverse Optics Medium Pulse Laser
2 BlazeFire Longshot Extended Range Medium Lasers
Comm System: Neil 2000 with Guardian ECM
T&T System: RCA Instatrac Mark IV
An eccentric variant of an already unusual BattleMech, the KSC-5X Koschei abandons the design’s usual focus on heavy ballistic weaponry. Instead, it is focused on melee combat, being armed with a pair of heavy duty claws. While employing these weapons is risky, due to the necessity of closing in to point-blank range with an opponent to use them, the potential damage from them makes it worth it to an adventurous MechWarrior.
The example piloted by Jayce Walkinshaw was captured from Canopian forces during a contract in the former Free Worlds League. The BattleMech would be passed between several MechWarriors over the years, before Jayce chose to take it for his own. He saw the unusual design as being a potential asset, favoring a style of combat that many opponents would not be ready for.
Where possible, Jayce makes use of the unit’s specialties to choose his battlefield and the likely courses of action that the enemy will take. This enables him to ambush his opponents, striking them at point-blank range when they do not expect it. So far, the tactic has been successful for himself and The Claw, his nickname for the BattleMech.
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Renegades Chapter II: All Good Things
Tell Me Lies
Identity Withheld: Ultimately, the Wolves were the victors. And as victors are wont to do, they write the history. In the case of the Terran campaign, they have constructed a very specific heroic narrative that doesn’t reflect the actual truth of the situation. Not for the Republic, not for the Falcons and especially not for themselves.
Interviewer: And you dispute that story.
IW: I do. After all, I was there. I fought for the Republic and stayed until the bitter end. I saw things that don’t fit with the nice, neat ‘official’ version of the story.
Interviewer: Could you elaborate on that?
IW: Let me start with one of the stories that the Wolves like to howl about the most. They bring up those RAF soldiers who chose to side with them to fight the Falcons a lot, talking about how they were heroes who fought for Terra, to save innocents and so on.
Interviewer: But you don’t agree with that, do you?
IW: I do not.
Interviewer: And how would you characterise the situation?
IW: The Wolves lionised a handful of traitors, putting them on pedestals and treating them as shining beacons that all should aspire to. At the same time, they’ve also been quietly marginalising and denigrating those that chose to stay loyal to the end, painting them as cowards who gave up the will to fight and were willing to risk letting the Falcons win. And again, they’ve selected a handful of cases to highlight in order to paint a very specific picture.
Interviewer: And you don’t agree with that stance, do you?
IW: Don’t get me wrong. I’m not here to mythologise some lost cause or the like. We lost and the Republic fell, that much is unquestioned. What I am here to do is tell the truth of that situation, the story that the Wolves have decided they don’t want people to hear.
Interviewer: A truth that is not palatable to the victors.
IW: Exactly. And even then, there were plenty of occasions where the Wolves didn’t take prisoners or deliberately executed those they did. But that doesn’t suit their narrative as much as ‘heroic traitors’ do. I suspect it’s also something that those former Republicans who fought for them are either unaware of or just simply won’t admit to as it would undercut their own self-reassurance that they fought for the ‘good’ cause. Especially given how Damien Redburn died.
Interviewer: I take it that the Wolves’ official story there doesn’t match the reality of the situation.
IW: It does not, like so many other things.
Interviewer: Can you give me any other examples?
IW: Another part of the popular narrative is how the Wolves fought a ‘clean’ and ‘honourable’ campaign when again, the truth was anything but.
Interviewer: Such as?
IW: Saturation artillery bombardment of Hong Kong. Putting hundreds of kilometres of Vietnamese jungle to torch. Poisoning rivers in Mongolia. Or their actions in their invasion of the Republic, like on Shiloh where they left RAF soldiers to die of exposure, or Keid where they deliberately killed the defenders down to the last man. The list goes on. And that doesn’t mention another one of the Wolves’ dirty secrets that they won’t talk about.
Interviewer: Which is?
IW: Do you know why the Wolves never faced any resistance in the areas they took? They used the same method as the Falcons that they claimed to be ‘better’ than and held civilian populations hostage. They wiped out the town of Atitjere in Australia, which was as much an act of retaliation as it was about cowing any possible resistance.
Interviewer: Compliance through terror.
IW: Exactly. It’s easy to claim that there’s no resistance when you’re holding guns to people’s heads. Don’t get me wrong. The Falcons were complete monsters, but the Wolves were no better. They just did a better job of covering their sins.
Interviewer: And you suspect there were other such situations that you never heard about?
IW: Absolutely. Discovering the full truth of what happened on Terra would require a level of investigation comparable to what happened after the fall of the Amaris Empire or the end of the Jihad. But given Terra’s new masters, and what they’ve done since they claimed victory, that’s not going to happen.
Interviewer: What do you mean by that?
IW: Consider this. Both Devlin Stone and Malvina Hazen died of ‘medical complications’ within days of the Wolves’ victory and before the official ceremonies. A mite convenient, wouldn’t you say?
-
Tripwire
Outside Sydney, Australia
Terra
Republic of the Sphere
1 January 3151
From the cockpit of their Awesome, Jarrie Scire watched as the platoon of Kinnol tanks advanced across the field, their olive-and-red-painted hulls visible in the long grass. The platoon split as they went around a derelict farmhouse before continuing their advance, turrets sweeping left to right as crews watched for any signs of an enemy force.
“OpFor has passed the initial,” they commented over their command channel. “You are clear to engage.”
A quartet of heavy tanks, painted light blue and grey with the horned, fanged skull of Hansen’s Roughriders visible on their hulls, emerged from a nearby stand of trees. The force advanced on their opponents, puffs of blue smoke going off on the hulls of the Kinnols or around them to simulate weapons fire. To their credit, the Kinnol tanks held their ground, grouping up to protect themselves and concentrate fire.
“Good move,” Jarrie muttered. “But not good enough.”
A quartet of Angerona battle armour suits emerged from the farmhouse, ducking to one side of it before opening fire on one of the Kinnols. Several blue splashes decorated its hull before the crew realised what was going on. Once they did, the tank tried backpedalling, while spinning is turret to face the newcomers. In response, the Angeronas moved to keep themselves between the farmhouse and the Kinnol, limiting the amount of fire that could be directed at them.
As the others reacted to the threat, the Roughriders tanks continued to close in. Weapons fire erupted between the two forces, with more red and blue puffs decorating the battlefield. Seeing their situation, the Kinnols were doing their best to regroup and deal with the ambush, while pulling back. None of it was doing anything to slow the Roughriders’ advance.
“Unless...” Jarrie considered, looking over the situation.
As if to confirm their thoughts, a pair of Scapha hovertanks came out of seemingly nowhere, the vehicles moving with blinding speed. They cut around the Roughriders’ advance, simulated weapons fire peppering the rear of the tanks.
Jarrie was about to say something, but they were cut off by a signal from the communications system, one coming in on a priority band. Confident that the battle could handle itself for the moment, they responded to the message. “Captain Scire here.”
“Captain Scire,” the voice came on the other end of the line. A woman’s, its tone was blunt and to the point, one he immediately recognised.
“Knight Messier,” Jarrie replied. “What is it?”
“The tripwire,” she replied. “Hostile vessels have entered the Terran system. We have to assume the worst.”
“That’s what I’m here for,” came the grim-faced reply.
“Recall your units to the Redoubt,” Messier stated. “And be ready to repel invaders.”
“Do we know who it is?”
“Provisional IDs suggest that it is indeed the Wolves.” If she was surprised or disappointed by this turn, she didn’t let it show.
“Thought so,” Scire added. “I want more time with the First NSW, but I suppose that won’t happen now.”
“That is a luxury that none of us have,” Messier finished.
“Understood,” they commented before switching over to the command channel. “All units, this is Hellfire Actual. Exercises are cancelled; repeat, exercises are cancelled. Pull back to Fallback Point PH2756 and await further orders.”
A chorus of affirmatives filled the channel, both from the other Roughriders and the RAF units. “Now’s when we earn our paycheque for real,” Jarrie muttered, shooting a glance at the sky.
-
From the personal journal of Bianka Messier
So it has come to this. We have confirmation of Wolf Empire ships in the Terran system. As yet, there is no clue as to how they have penetrated the Fortress Republic walls, but at this point, it is academic. Our goal is to protect Terra from their predation. We can worry about the hows and whys of what brought us to this later.
I am not so arrogant to believe that we will win this. Yes, we have been preparing for this eventuality for fifteen years now. We have built up the Terran system’s defences. We have built fortifications and redoubts across Terra itself. We have raised new units, and brought in mercenaries to help train and prepare them. We have run simulations and wargames and so much more.
However, these are not the same Wolves that invaded the Inner Sphere a century ago. They’re not even the shriveled husk of a Clan that clutched to their occupation zone before the Blackout. They are aggressive, resourceful and adaptable, willing to change and do what is needed for victory, not what might seem good or honourable. Their success in turning the people they conquered into their willing soldiers demonstrates that.
The failure of Operation SHOFAR proves all of that.
I have made my own preparations, found my own allies. Keyhan and I have worked together in past, and as much of a risk-taker as he seems, there is no denying his skills. Tariku is an expert at anti-Clan tactics and using their strengths against them. Conversely, Erzhan is as Clan as somebody could be while still being a Republic Citizen, and understands them intimately. Tammy is a charismatic leader and is driven; she won’t admit it, but her hatred for the Falcons, and now the Wolves, is a potent weapon. Finally Luke brings a lot of unconventional skills to the table.
There is one other asset I have to play. I pray that I will not have to use it.
I have ensured that Jacques is safe, as are Yvette and Peter. Likewise, Lorand and his family have been moved for their protection. I wish I could have done more for Bors, but doing such would have been a compromise to my own position and authority; the Republic comes before all else. I also feel that he wouldn’t have accepted my help even if it was offered.
I wonder how his daughter is doing. It’s been over twenty years now since I saw her.
For now, all we can do is prepare. Pray for the best, expect the worst.
-
Guest chapter by KayEmm
Focus on the Job
Krakow, Poland
Terra
Republic of the Sphere
3 January 3151
Jayce Walkinshaw took a long drag from his cigarette as he leaned on the rooftop ledge. Exhaling, he looked up at the night sky, as if he was searching for something up there.
“You know those things will kill you,” came a voice from behind him.
Jayce looked back to see his second, Tan Yo-Han approach him. “Right now I think I have bigger concerns then lung cancer,” he smirked. “You know, with a Clan force coming down on us any day now and all that.”
“Is that what’s on your mind,” Yo-Han asked. “You usually only light up like this when something’s bothering you.”
“You’d know,” Jayce chuckled. “Naw, I was thinking about other stuff.”
“Like what?” Tan looked around at their compound. “Our men are about as ready to go as they’ll ever be. We’ve been drilling hard with the locals to train them up so that they’ll have some chance against what’s coming. We’ve done recon of the terrain and know where we’re fighting and all that. Between old-growth forests and dense urban areas we’ll have plenty of opportunities to ensure the battles are on our terms.” He shrugged. “Really, at this point I can’t think of anything we might have missed. So if there’s something up, boss, I need to know.”
“It’s not that,” Jayce shook his head. “Just thinking about a girl I used to know and went out with for a while.”
“You’re hopeless, you know that?” Yo-Han chuckled.
“Seriously,” Jayce grinned. “She was hot as all hell. Covered in tattoos too. Nice girl, though.”
“Sounds too good for a creep like you.”
“Probably,” he chuckled. “Didn’t work out between us, though.”
“Likely because you’re you.”
“Naw, we wanted... different things out of the relationship,” he admitted. “Plus I was terrified that her dad was going to kill me if I even looked at her funny.”
“Bad?”
“He was the leader of their family unit,” Jayce admitted, his lit cigarette hanging from his hand. “You know how much of a mess that can be.”
“So in short,” Yo-Han nodded. “We’re about to be in the fight of our lives and you’re still hung up on a girl.”
“Yeah.”
Yo-han threw his hands up in mock despair. “That’s why we broke up, you know.”
“What, and not the complex politics of two senior officers in the same small unit knocking boots?”
“That’s-“ he paused. “Now you’ve got me doing it too.”
Jayce chuckled. “Maybe that was my point, man. I mean, god alone knows I should be crapping my pants with fear here. But if I think about the good stuff instead, then I’m a lot less afraid.”
“So you think about your exes.”
“Yeah.”
Yo-Han grinned. “Well that’ll keep you busy for days. Weeks even.”
“You ass. I should fire you for that. Or at least demote you.”
“If I’m alive when we get through this, sure,” Yo-Han shook his head. “But right now you know you need me.”
“Probably,” Jayce nodded. “Tell you what though, could you imagine it if this works out?” He grinned. “Jayce Walkinshaw, hero of the Republic.”
“Except we never get in the history books,” Yo-Han reminded him. “Something the Red Right Hand prides itself on.”
“I know,” he nodded. “But consider this. The Republic is going to owe us big time.”
“So we collect our pay and head off into the night as rich men,” Yo-Han finished.
“It’s a plan,” Jayce admitted. “And besides, as you said, it’s what we’ve always done.”
“Okay, I’ll give you that,” Yo-Han came over and leaned on the ledge, joining him. “Did you have any idea what you were getting yourself in for when you signed that deal?”
“I was just honouring past traditions,” Jayce admitted. “The secret journals kept by the previous leaders of the Red Right Hand and all that. We have a long history with the Republic. Hell, we have history with them even before they were the Republic.”
“And now here we are.”
“Yeah,” Jayce nodded. “Strange how life works out. Still, I think I’ve got this figured. One way or another, there’s gonna be a lot of need for our services after this is done.”
“So you got a plan?”
“Hell yeah.”
“Care to let us in on it?”
“Well, for starters, I’m gonna ask that girl for a second chance.”
“You really are stupid, you know that?” Yo-Han sighed.
“I guess that’s why you gave me the job,” he simply grinned back in reply.
-
From the campaign journal of Star Colonel Don Cooper
If you had marched up to my sibko on Czezstreg and told me that one day I would be leading an assault on Terra, I would have likely laughed in your face. While it has always been the dream of every Clan warrior to do such, I do not think anyone ever thought that it would happen. And yet, here we are.
The Thirteenth (EDITOR’S NOTE: Thirteenth Wolf Guards Battle Cluster) made landfall outside of Perth on the Australian continent. As the Galaxy as a whole advanced on the city, we were tasked with securing a number of Republic forward operating bases across the area. These facilities were home to supplies that would be useful to us as well as RAF detachments that would need to be neutralised before our assault could continue.
I assigned Star Captains Lucius Radrick and Leeandra Connors to the task. This was a test of sorts, given their past history of antagonism towards each other to see if the little talking-to that I had given them had sank in. Better that any residual issues surface now than when we are deep into enemy territory and I no longer have the luxury of dealing with the issue.
To make things worse, the force that they faced was one unknown to us; a RAF formation identified as the Redburn Guards. Not only were they one we had no intelligence on, but they were also clearly well-trained, well-equipped and, given the name, well-led.
Apparently, Lucius and Leeandra simply considered this to be an extra challenge, as the pair of them acquitted themselves well. Rather than fighting over objectives, they cooperated to best deal with the situation. The Black Fangs (EDITOR’S NOTE: Trinary Alpha, led by Lucius Radick) led the way, smashing headlong into the Redburn Guards while the Bloodseekers (EDITOR’S NOTE: Trinary Bravo, led by Leeandra Connors) looped around to strike at the enemy flank and cut off their retreat.
The plan worked fantastically. While the Black Fangs dealt with the enemy BattleMech force, the Bloodseekers wreaked havoc on their heavy tanks and other support elements. Leeandra personally accounted for three tank kills and several more immobilised, but the crowning moment had to go to Lucuis who defeated the Republic commander in a duel. While their Trinaries suffered several BattleMechs damaged or disabled, their losses were far less than the RAF units who fell back in disarray. Even then, the Bloodseekers further harried them to wear down their numbers.
So far, it would seem that the pair of them have learned their lesson.
-
The Battle of Windsor
While the Wolves ultimately took Sydney, the outcome of the battle was far less clear than the one for Perth. There were several times when the Wolves were caught on the back foot or even repulsed by the combination of the unexpected defenses of the Redoubt, as well as the forces that were protecting the city itself.
The Battle of Windsor was a good example. A Trinary from the Fourth Wolf Guards Cluster (Alpha Galaxy) sought to capture the town of Windsor as a part of their moves on the city proper. The move was aimed at isolating the forward base at RAF Richmond, while also severing Republic supply lines. Furthermore, there was supposedly a site of historical significance within the town that the Wolves sought to capture.
Led by Star Captain Douglas Carns, the Wolf force, supported by Elementals, made contact with what were believed to be elements from the First New South Wales Militia. Confident in their superiority, the Wolves advanced towards the Redoubt’s fortifications, only to come under heavy fire. Now they were faced with a combined-arms force from Hansens’s Roughriders, led by Captain Jarrie Scire. Combining accurate long-range fire, artillery and the cover afforded to them by the redoubt’s defenses, the Roughriders repulsed the initial Wolf attack.
Pulling back and taking cover in the bushland, Carns attempted to bait the Roughriders out of cover using long-range fire. This only resulted in a heavy artillery barrage, while light BattleMechs and hovercraft harried their flanks with hit-and-run attacks. The body of the Roughriders force held their ground inside the fortifications and continued their fire.
After Star Commander Roberto was killed by an artillery hit to his Stormwolf’s cockpit, Carns completely changed tack. Ignoring the flanking elements, he pushed his forces into a furious, if not completely reckless, head-on charge into the Roughriders’ forces. While the mercenaries were temporarily taken back by the ferocity of the attack, they quickly rallied and held their ground while recalling their strikers for support.
Only a handful of Wolf BattleMechs reached the Roughriders’ lines, with Carns at their head. This did him little good as he was killed in combat with Scire’s Awesome, robbing the Wolves of their leader. Realising the full depth of their situation, Star Commander Kyle Jones ordered a retreat to preserve his remaining forces.
While the Battle of Windsor was a victory for the Republic, it ultimately did little more than slow the Wolves’ advance on the city. However, it also bought the defenders precious time, while helping to secure supply lines that would be useful in the battle ahead.
- From Untold tales of Terra, Galatea Free Press
-
From the campaign journal of Star Colonel Don Cooper
Vietnam. Stravag Vietnam and the stravag Republicans.
We had little idea of what to expect, especially given that Ho Chi Minh City had fallen without much of a fight; we had faced little more than light resistance from militia forces that had scattered in the face of Beta Galaxy’s massed forces. When the Thirteenth was given the task of leading the Clan’s advance through Vietnam, it was an honour. I had no idea how it would turn out.
Lucius and Leeandra went in to the situation convinced that the RAF militia they were facing were a bunch of amateurs; they were not going to be able to inflict any significant harm or even be able to do anything. Instead, they looked at the bottom line. They were trueborn warriors, Bloodnamed and each leading a Trinary of the best their Clan had to offer. What were the defenders going to do? They were a bunch of surats trying to find reverse on old Blakist tanks. They were not a worthy adversary.
The instant the first BattleMech hit a mine and took fire from the jungle, they were off. The pair of them led their Trinaries in pursuit of the Republic forces, despite my explicit orders not to. And not one member of their units disagreed; if anything, they seemed to be eager to prove themselves, all but racing each other to get the first kill. And the rest of my stravag Cluster chased after them, caught up in the excitement.
Instead they led their forces into a textbook ambush. The Republicans had littered the area with mines, pitfalls, traps and other such hazards. And as my warriors struggled to extract themselves, the Republicans came at them from all sides, taking them down with dezgra attacks when they could not defend themselves.
In the end, my men had to be rescued by Delta Galaxy’s forces. The best of the tourman bailed out by a bunch of sibkids piloting Lyran castoffs. Humiliating does not begin to cover it.
None of my officers want to talk about what happened; they are stonewalling me with their silence. I should demote the lot of them for their idiocy and letting good warriors die face down in the muck for their glory, but I cannot afford either to lose their experience or the Trials that would inevitably occur. Instead, I have called up reserves from Iota to make up numbers.
This stravag country can go to hell.
-
Rush Hour
Outside Hong Kong, China District, Asia
Terra
Republic of the Sphere
T+8
When he first graduated from his sibko, Jean had been convinced that one day he would fight on Terra for the glory of his Clan. As a ristar assigned to a prestigious unit and a brand new OmniMech, it had seemed inevitable to him that not only would he be a part of the campaign, but that he would lead the charge against the defenders.
And after that had all fallen apart, he had been more focused on surviving then anything else. Simply keeping his head above water had become a challenge. Dreams of conquest were just that.
But yet, here he was, walking on the soil of sacred Terra as the Wolves fought for the future of all mankind. So far, Iota Galaxy had been a reserve unit that had not seen action, but nonetheless, Jean was excited at the prospect of fighting for glory, both his own and for his Clan as a whole. When they had been assigned to the assault of Redoubt Hong Kong, he was thrilled at the prospect of seeing battle at last.
His Tundra Wolf marched at the head of his Star, the five BattleMechs keeping a steady pace as they approached the fortified city. While so far, they had no contact with the Republican forces, there was no doubt that they would be well dug in to the city itself. The fortifications discovered around Sydney and other cities had given the Wolves a good idea of what to expect, but even then, the Wolves were wary for more tricks.
“Status report?” He called out over his command channel as he bought his ‘Mech to a halt at the rally point. A chorus of replies came back, each one professional and calm.
“Good,” he finished, a hint of pride in his tone. This command might not have been the one he had expected when he first entered service with the touman, but they were his nonetheless. Switching over to the command channel, he reported in. “Charlie Battle is in position, Star Captain. Awaiting orders.”
“Understood,” the gravelly voice of Star Captain Pietro replied. “My Star will take the lead. Follow in formation.”
He paused a moment. “Star Captain, should Charlie Scout take the lead? We are headed into unknown hostile territory and-“
“You have your orders, Star Commander,” came the growling reply. “I expect you to follow them.”
“Star Captain, all I am saying is-“
“Know your place, Pudding Wolf,” Pietro snapped. “You have my orders. I expect you to follow them, quiaff?”
“Aff,” he replied with a degree of reluctant acceptance.
“What a tool,” one of his Star quietly muttered. Jean let it stand for the moment, even if he did agree. Pietro had only been promoted to Star Captain to replace another officer who had been transferred to Alpha Galaxy. The knowledge that he was the replacement for somebody better then him had not gone over well, leading to him taking out his frustrations on everyone around him while looking for ways to find his own glory.
Nobody liked Pietro, which was fine because he didn’t like anybody.
The Trinary began their advance, with Pietro’s Night Wolf at the head of the force. Ahead of them, through the hilly terrain, lay a series of bunkers and walls similar to those discovered around Sydney, likely packed full of Republican units.
Conformation came with the first long-range missile fire. Several shots peppered the upper body of Pietro’s Night Wolf, the assault ‘Mech shrugging them off. That was soon joined by heavy cannon fire as the Republican tanks tried to focus on bringing the Wolf attackers down or at least slowing their assault. Pietro’s Star opened up in reply, their shots hitting the enemy tanks as much as they did the fortifications they were using for shelter.
“Maintain formation and mark targets,” Jean called out to his Star. Several missiles hit his ‘Mech, with his sensors quickly identifying the source of the attack. A Marksman tank, most of its body concealed behind a sloped concrete barricade. He replied with his own pulse lasers and missiles, the shots hitting both armour and the fortifications protecting it, doing little actual damage.
Pietro’s BattleMech continued its advance, pushing deeper towards the Republican fortifications. “These freeborn whelps lack the courage for a real fight,” he yelled. “Crush them.”
A gauss rifle hit rocked Jean’s BattleMech, staggering it as it advanced. Keeping his footing, he continued to pour fire on the Marksman tank, his lasers slashing more armour from its turret. The Marksman’s crew simply continued to fire, another volley of missiles arcing out and striking at his ‘Mech.
Despite the fevered exchange of fire, something else caught his eyes. A series of small, fast-moving vehicles, darting out from the Republican defenses and weaving in among the ‘Mechs of Pietro’s Command Star. “Star Captain,” he called out over the command channel. “Hoverbikes in your flanks.”
“Shut up, Pudding Wolf,” Pietro snapped. “I can fight my own battles.” His ‘Mech continued to advance, the Hoverbikes scattering as it did. “See what I mean? These cowards cannot-“
He was cut off as the first artillery missile slammed into his BattleMech, tearing huge chunks out of its torso. A second hit even harder, sending it crashing to the ground. Clearly seeing an opportunity, the Republic tanks focused fire onto the downed BattleMech. Within moments, it had been reduced to smoking wreckage under the concentrated assault.
“Pull back!” Jean ordered, figuring that Pietro was either dead or disabled. He squeezed off another volley of fire, the Marksman tank continuing to soak it up as a sign of its own defiance. Not a good start, Jean admitted to himself as his BattleMech backpedaled, the rest of his Star falling into formation with him.
Victory would come, of that he was certain. It was just going to take a lot more work.
-
Guest chapter by KayEmm
Unit Digest: Red Right Hand
Tariku,
I’m attaching the profile for one of the small units we have working for us in the European theatre. They focus on covert actions, targeted strikes and elimination of valuable targets, and have been invaluable in helping to prepare our forces. I feel that they would complement Sunstorm well in the field, especially given the unfolding situation. And despite how their leader may act, I know that we can rely on them.
- Bianka
History
The Red Right Hand came into existence following the formation of the Chaos March. While their exact origins are unclear (and were likely deliberately obscured up by its founders to cover their tracks) the unit’s founders possibly included members of a FedCom recon team who were abandoned in the region. The unit spend its early years working out of the Fletcher hiring hall (itself notorious for its poor record-keeping) for various powers across the region. Many of their operations focused on precise raiding aimed at extracting or eliminating specific targets, including false-flag operations.
While many of the mercenaries operating in the Chaos March were destroyed or captured by the Word of Blake, or came under their control, the Red Right Hand were able to remain free agents. During the early years of the Jihad, the unit were still focused on small-scale operations, but later came under control of Chandrasekhar Kurita through one of the many StarCorps subsidiaries. During this period, they were redirected towards specific focused targets in the Word of Blake Protectorate, as well as the Word’s allies. Furthermore, the unit were also involved in key intelligence gathering that would be used during Operation SCOUR.
Following the Jihad, the unit were contracted by the Republic and used in a number of discrete actions, including the capture or elimination of wanted war criminals and other Word allies. They also were involved in actions against the Capellan Confederation and former Free Worlds states aimed at slowing their ability to rearm and wage war. While the Republic stopped utilising the Red Right Hand by the end of the century, a discrete understanding was established to ensure that the unit would be available to renew that relationship should it be needed.
Much of that experience would be lost in 3103 when the unit was badly mauled by Jade Falcon forces on Great X (although it has to be said that inept Lyran leadership was ultimately to blame). The Red Right Hand rebuilt as a more conventional force, but would suffer, as many other units did, through the withering of the mercenary trade in the early 32nd century. It was not until after Gray Monday and a change of leadership that it would come to resemble its earlier self.
The rebuilt Red Right Hand saw action in the crumbling Republic, which brought it to our attention. Through successful negotiations we were able to resume our alliance with the unit, aided by the promise of advanced technology and intelligence. After the creation of Fortress Republic, the Red Right Hand were employed through our intermediaries. Some of their actions included the elimination of threats and assets within the former Republic’s territories in order to prevent them from being captured or used by other parties. These efforts were later refocused towards our enemies in order to disrupt their activities.
Composition
The paper strength of the Red Right Hand does not appear to be overly impressive at first. The unit boasts two lances of BattleMechs, supported by a lance of light vehicles, a battle armor platoon and several small infantry units. What is more important is the way that they are utilised; rather than direct engagements, the Red Right Hand focus more on targeted attacks and ambushes, preferring to avoid stand-up fights. To aid in this, their conventional infantry forces are usually deployed in special use squads, intended for scouting, infiltration, sabotage and the like. The unit’s strength is rounded out by a pair of light aerospace fighters that are tasked with recon and support operations.
Support
The Red Right Hand’s small size has allowed it to maintain a dedicated technical support corps that more than covers their needs. Their support crews include dedicated salvage experts who are skilled both at recovering materials and, where needs be, ensuring that no evidence is left behind. Over the years, the unit has built up a considerable reserve of parts and equipment, both as insurance against repair needs and to use as currency.
The unit possesses two DropShips; the Union-class Aces High and Gazelle-class Two Pair. Both ships are modern and well-maintained; furthermore, both have several sets of fake transponder codes ready if needed.
Colours and Insignia
The insignia of the Red Right Hand depicts a quartet of playing cards, all Aces. The unit has no standard parade scheme, but will paint the upper arms and lower legs of their ‘Mechs and battle armor in alternating red and black. However, the unit will rarely employ any sort of scheme or insignia in the field, and have also been known to disguise themselves as other units to create confusion and cover their tracks.
-
Interlude - From the Operational Journal of Ash Wednesday
January 7 3146
I feel that I have grossly underestimated Connie Raymond.
When I was given this assignment, the brief was simple. We have past connections to Raymond’s Roughnecks, and we can use them to fulfil our needs. On the surface, it was an open and shut case. Connie Raymond seemed easy enough to manipulate to our ends. Angry, bitter and dwelling on a feud that had been going on for over a century, her emotional state was easy to prod and direct as we needed. And in my role as her scout and broker, I was in the perfect position to do such.
Of course, it was not that easy. As a part of my role I was to help train her kids as officers and potential heirs. Anyone who has read my report will know that I instantly didn’t like them, and that position has not changed at all over the twelve years that I have been on this assignment.
Outwardly, the problem came down to one key fact. Neither of them were ever going to be suitable leaders for the unit, albeit for different reasons. Added to that was the fact that they couldn’t stand each other, the result of their mother’s playing favourites and the resulting deeply competitive rift between them, which amounted to a race to the bottom.
Jessie as never going to be any good as a leader. In fact, she was struggling in her position as a junior officer. Shy, socially awkward and anxious, she was utterly lacking in any leadership ability whatsoever. And while she was a skilled enough MechWarrior in her own right, that didn’t translate into any ability to make decisions on the battlefield.
Ronnie was also never going to be any good as a leader, but for completely different reasons. Self-important, whiny and entitled, he expected to have everything handed to him on a silver platter. While again a capable MechWarrior he lacked the charisma to make anyone want to follow him. He might have actually been a better leader then Jessie, but that’s a case of low bars to clear.
And yet, Connie pushed Jessie to the moon. She was named as heir to the family unit before she ever set foot in a BattleMech. She was given a Clantech assault ‘Mech and command of a lance as soon as she was old enough to pilot it. Naturally, Jessie didn’t get a say in any of this – but I suspect that even if she’d been against the idea, she would have been too timid to oppose her mother in any way.
Ronnie, on the other hand, got a light ‘Mech and command of a recon lance, and that was it. The clear unfavourite of the two, Connie Raymond all but spelled it out to him how little regard she had for him. And while Ron McDougall supported Ronnie in every way he could, that really amounted to very little in Ronnie’s eyes.
So Ronnie became entitled and demanded more. He’d treat Jessie like crap, complaining to her at every opportunity about how unfair things were between the pair of them (but never to his mother, of course). Jessie basically used the only defence mechanism she had which was to lord that favouritism over him; after all, their mother picked her for a reason. As can be imagined, that only made things worse between the pair of them.
I often wondered why Connie was so divisive in the treatment of her children. I think anyone could have seen that Jessie was horribly ill-suited to the position and didn’t really want it, but yet Connie pushed her no less. I had my own theories as to why. Jessie was, after all, the first-born child. On top of that, she was (supposedly) the only child Connie had with her dead first husband, Shane Packard. Conversely, Ronnie seemed to largely exist as a part of the alliance made between her an Ron McDougall when they combined their two units to give him a child and heir, with Connie treating him as a mild inconvenience after that.
But now I am not so sure.
When Jessie left the unit, Connie was livid. After all, her daughter and heir had just walked out on her and taken with her an expensive BattleMech. That would have been betrayal enough, but there was more to it than just that. She was angry because Jessie had in leaving the unit thrown some spanner in the works, done something to derail some plan that she had which went well beyond just pushing her daughter to take her place one day.
It became more obvious when she named Ronnie as her new heir. To be fair, the kid hadn’t done himself many favours with his approach; a combination of pandering to her with pledges of loyalty while putting down Jessie at every opportunity. But Connie’s reaction was full of begrudging acceptance. She didn’t want Ronnie as heir because he never was meant to be there, and putting him there went against whatever plans she had.
(Not that Ronnie would have noticed any of this, mind you)
Which got me to thinking what was so important about Jessie in particular. My first thought was that it went back to Shane Packard; presumably the pair had planned to have more kids before fate intervened. But then that made me look at a few other things.
For context, it needs to be said that Ronnie and Jessie don’t look much like each other, even allowing for the half-siblings thing. Ronnie has his mother’s looks; dark hair, dark eyes and some of her features. Jessie, on the other hand, has fairer skin, blue eyes and red hair. Now that doesn’t match at all to Connie or her family history. And, to be blunt, it doesn’t really match to the few pictures there are of Shane Packard either.
I had long had doubts about Jessie’s parentage. I had never voiced them as there was no need for me to do such, and I would have nothing to gain from doing such. But after Connie’s reaction, a lot of things became clear to me.
I already have my suspicions as to the identity of Jessie’s actual father. They have features that would match and a family history that would likely give a child those looks. And most importantly, Connie would have a lot to gain from having a child with them. I need to run a DNA test to be sure, but I feel confident of the result already.
Jessie, without knowing it, had ruined everything her mother had planned for her, down to the very reason why she existed in the first place.
(It also makes Shane Packard’s death very convenient to the point that I have to wonder)
-
Interlude - Fight and Flight
Lanie King couldn’t help but feel a little intimidated, even if she was making sure not to show it. On the surface, there was no reason to feel that way. After all, she was having a private meeting with one of her allies inside the rented office space that was their shared space. There should have been nothing to worry about at all.
On the other side of it, there was the simple fact that Alexis Fairchild was rather intimidating in and of herself. Large and muscular, she simply looked it in her own right. It did not help that she had a certain energy to her, one that suggested she was about to explode at any moment and was only barely holding herself back. Finally there was the fact that, simply put, Lanie knew next to nothing about her. All she had was the unsubstantiated claims that Alexis and Ryback had made.
Claims that were very hard to back up.
“So tell me what happened on Al Jubalyah,” Alexis simply asked. There was no hint of anger or malice, just a simple question.
“A group of pirates landed on the world only about a week out from when my unit was due to depart,” Lanie answered, sitting up straight and keeping her tone clam and level throughout. “We later found out that they called themselves the Steel Tygers.”
“And what did they want?”
“That was the confusing part of it,” Lanie admitted. “They didn’t go after any targets that would have any real value to them at all. Rather, they roamed the countryside, picking on low-key targets like farms and communications relays.”
“What was the government’s response?”
Lanie considered the answer carefully. “The Council of Mullahs wanted them driven off the planet before they did any real damage. The Tigers were sent after them in support of the planetary guard.”
“Did that provoke a response?”
“Yes,” Lanie began, but immediately countered herself. “Sort of.”
“What do you mean?”
She sighed. “The Steel Tygers didn’t stand and fight, but nor did they simply try to escape as you would have expected from pirates. Rather, they spent days stringing out my men in a series of pointless running battles. All this did was cost them a couple of hovertanks and some damaged BattleMechs, while also seeing them burn off a fortune in smoke missiles before they finally retreated off-world.”
Alexis seemed to be considering something for a moment before she spoke again. “Did they hit any targets besides those you mentioned?”
“Only one, and it didn’t really make any sense to me.”
“How so?”
“I only found out about it after they had left the world,” Lanie admitted. “While we were tied up with then, a small pirate infantry force hit an abandoned homestead in the middle of nowhere. They put the place to the torch and then left.”
“Where was that homestead? This is very important.”
Lanie paused as she tried to remember. “Northwest of Medina.” Alexis looked aside for a moment, clearly concerned. “Is something wrong?”
The other woman took a deep breath before she continued. “Tell nobody about what I am about to say. Not in your unit, not any of our allies or anyone else.”
Now Lanie really was concerned. “What is it?”
“That homestead was used as a base of operations for one of the Blakist cells that I destroyed,” she explained. “There should have been nothing left.”
“But?”
“But if the Steel Tygers knew about it and went back to it, that means two things,” Alexis assessed. “The first is that there was something there worth hitting the world and getting in a fight with your unit for. And the second is that they knew it was there.”
“Which means that the Steel Tygers must have a connection to your Blakists.”
“Exactly.”
All of a sudden she could understand Alexis’ concerns.
-
Interlude - Playdate
A flight of long-range missiles flew past the Shadow Hawk as it advanced, scattering across the landscape. In response, the blocky BattleMech opened up with its autocannon, loosing a stream of shells at the Goblin tank that had been responsible for the attack. Shots chewed through its armour, fouling the tank’s treads.
Seconds later, a Chameleon joined it, opening fire with its rifle-like large laser. The shot seared through the already damaged armour, eating into the tank’s exposed structure. A moment later, its rear erupted into flames as its missile magazine cooked off, before a second, larger explosion tore the tank apart from within.
“Nice shooting there, Blue Two,” Lanie King commented as she watched the battle unfold on a series of displays. A large holographic table was presently zoomed in on the lance of ‘Mechs, while other monitors showed different views around the battlefield. While everything was simulated, Lanie was still impressed with the level of detail in the virtual environment and the combatants in it.
“Angela’s got a good eye there,” Katarina Morrison added, nodding to the image of the Chameleon. “And some good fire discipline as well.”
“It helps that she’s got a good leader. Jakub really seems to have taken well to this,” Lanie observed as the virtual BattleMechs continued their advance. “I heard about what he did on Haggard.”
“Definitely,” Katarina nodded. “He’s showing a lot of skill already, and a great ability to think on the fly. And probably the most-“ she paused. “On your left, Blue Lead.” On the screen, the Shadow Hawk pivoted and broke into a run just as a stream of tracers streaked past it. “As I was saying, he’s good at supporting others and not just looking out for his own glory.”
“Good traits for a leader,” Lanie added as she watched the simulated Chameleon follow the Shadow Hawk’s lead. The dome-headed BattleMech took a shot with its large laser, singeing armour from a Vedette.
“How’s Angela doing?”
“She’s still learning, and definitely at that stage where she’s excited just to be piloting a ‘Mech,” Lanie admitted. “But I think she’s doing well.” The Chameleon fired its jump jets, vaulting over a line of rubble to take cover behind a ridge. “But I can tell this is what she really wants.”
“But?”
“Well you know how it goes,” Lanie admitted as the lance of BattleMechs continued to move across the simulated landscape, maintaining a close formation. “it’s what she wants, and that’s what counts.”
“Miho’s still not happy about Angela’s choice of profession, is she?” Katarina asked.
Lanie nodded, perhaps a bit reluctantly. “She claims that she will support Angela no matter what she does, but I’ve been married to her long enough to read between the lines. She would have much preferred that Angela was a technician like her, or at the very least, in some other non-combatant position.”
“I can understand her reasoning,” Katarina admitted. “What about Keiko?”
“Oh, Keiko wants to be a technician,” Lanie replied. “Or, at least she does today. Yesterday she wanted to be a MechWarror. Tomorrow she’ll probably want to be a ballerina or something.”
Katarina chuckled. “Kids, right?”
“All things being equal, though, Jakub really seems to be happy with the idea,” Lanie noted. “At least of being MechWarrior.”
“MechWarrior and eventual leader,” Katarina agreed. “It’s a lot of weight on his shoulders, but I think he’s behind the idea. And I’m happy to let him lean into it and take things as they come to make sure he’s ready for the role when the day comes.”
“Which hopefully-“ Lanie stopped, “Good work there, two.” On the screen, the Chameleon stepped back, continuing to use the terrain as cover. “You know what? Jakub’s doing a pretty good job on this exercise so far.”
“Thanks,” Katarina nodded, with no small sense of pride. “He’s a smart kid.”
“Must have had a good teacher then.”
Katarina gave a small smile back. “Angela’s not doing too bad either, given that she’s still learning.”
“She has talent,” Lanie agreed. “And while yes, I know she’s one day going to take my place, I want her to be as ready as possible for that moment.”
“Which hopefully will not be for a long time to come.”
“Gods no,” Lanie chuckled.
On screen the simulated lance continued to move, running and jumping through the broken terrain to make the most of the cover available to them. “Of course, there’s other things you need to think about for a potential leader,” Katarina noted. “So far, Jakub seems to be confident in the role, even if inexperienced.”
“The social part of it,” Lanie nodded. “I know exactly what you mean. They need to be confident as a leader, and be able to get others to follow them.”
“Mm-hm,” Katarina agreed. “I’ve been trying to keep Jakub socialised, both with members of the unit and others his age. The hope is that he’ll be the sort of leader that people want to follow, rather than feel they need to.”
“I know that feeling. I’ve been trying to do the same for Angela,” Lanie noted, indicating at the screen. “And I think this is a great idea, getting the pair of them to work together like this.”
“Definitely,” Katarina smiled. “I think we should do it more often.”
“Getting them to train together, of course,” Lanie smirked. “And to know each other better, because it would be good for both of them, of course.”
“Naturally. Get to know other people their ages, work together, build those important friendships and alliances and the like.”
“And you’re thinking of this from a purely professional point of view,” She continued. “Because anyone would think you were trying to set the pair of them up.” On the displays, Jakub’s simulated Shadow Hawk had loosed a flight of smoke missiles to provide cover for the rest of the lance.
“Never,” Katarina chuckled. “But I am saying that I wouldn’t be entirely against the idea either.”
“Well, when you put it like that,” Lanie admitted. “I think it’d be a good idea for the pair of them to spend more time around each other. And not just in training, of course.”
“Thought so,” Katarina smiled.
“Obviously we’d need to work around our unit deployments and the like, but-“ Lanie cut herself off. “On your left, Blue Two!”
On the screen, Angela’s Chameleon turned, but not quickly enough. A pair of brilliant azure lightning bolts struck the ‘Mech, spearing into its chest, tearing through armour before destroying the delicate systems within. The BattleMech crashed to the ground, while its damage display made it clear that it was out of action.
“Ouch,” was all that Katarina could add as the bulky form of a Warhammer IIC stepped forward, approaching the downed BattleMech.
“Nice shooting there, Jessie,” Irisz Magyari added as she watched the display, before turning back to Lanie. “Sorry.”
-
Raf Esquarra
Position/Rank: Captain
Affiliation/Unit: Republic of the Sphere
Birth Year: 3109
A Terran native, Raf Esquarra grew up with every advantage that the Republic’s Golden Age had to offer. Growing up in a well-to-do family, he had an excellent education where he excelled in mathematics and computer sciences. Despite the opportunities available to him, Raf chose to earn his citizenship through military service in the RAF. There he served as a communications technician, operating in both field and rear-echelon roles.
Following his time in service, Raf went to a prestigious Terran university where he put his skills to work. He developed a keen interest in the use of applied mathematics in encryption and coding, publishing several papers on the subject. Following the Blackout and the formation of Fortress Republic, Raf was approached by the Republic government, offering him the opportunity to work on a number of high-level projects. He eagerly agreed, driven as much by curiosity as his own desire to put his skills to work.
Much of his work went into decrypting encoded data recovered from outside the walls of Fortress Republic, helping the RAF to gain key insights into their enemies. He also worked in decoding data recovered from the destruction of the ComGuards, helping to uncover some of the secrets they had been hiding from the Republic. With the threat of invasion of Terra itself becoming a distinct possibility, he has begun his own pet projects to secure his own work and other materials against falling into hostile hands.
While he has had basic field training, Raf is no soldier and he knows it. While he has engaged in field operations in past, they were usually with heavy escorts and away from the actual fighting.
Guest character by KayEmm
Pierce Icaza
Position/Rank: Star Captain
Affiliation/Unit: Clan Jade Falcon/Delta Galaxy
Birth Year: 3125
Created from a mix of a long-standing Icaza bloodline and a captured Cobb one, Pierce Icaza lived up to expectations from the moment he was decanted. One of the largest and strongest member of his Sibko, he excelled in his training, proving to be both adept and resilient in the face of his often harsh and demanding training. He graduated through his trial of position as a Star Commander, a position born as much from his capabilities as his careful planning.
Pierce saw his first combat during the Falcons’ surge into the Lyran Commonwealth. Fighting on numerous worlds, he and his Elemental point would be key to a number of victories over their various enemies. Far from being reckless, he specialised in careful attacks on key targets and staging ambushes from cover. One of his preferred tactics was to pick out slow-moving Lyran assault ‘Mechs and target them for anti-‘Mech or swarm attacks to further isolate them.
Due to his successes, he was nominated for his Bloodname, winning it after a series of battles where he was careful not to kill or excessively harm his opponents. While understanding the central place of BattleMechs in the Jade Falcon tourman, Pierce has been a strong advocate for expanding combined-arms tactics and better integration of conventional units. While the alliance with the Hells’ Horses may be over, he feels that there are lessons to be learned from that Clan.
While the leaders of different trinaries, he often works closely with Star Captain Kia Malthus, with the two supporting each other in the field. He also has developed an interest in swordsmanship from working with her, and has become a regular sparring partner.
Griff Heller
Position/Rank: Star Commander
Affiliation/Unit: Clan Wolf/Beta Galaxy
Birth Year: 3123
The Heller Bloodhouse is only a minor one, with only a handful of Bloodnamed warriors among the Clans. That it is split between the Wolves and the Hells’ Horses only serves to further diminish its standing and prestige. Despite these setbacks, Griff Heller is determined to not only excel as a warrior, but to expand the influence of his House.
Decanted in the old Wolf Occupation Zone, Griff was too young to see action during the operation HAMMERFALL invasion of the Marik-Stewart commonwealth. Instead, he would be pressed into service during the invasion of the Lyran Commonwealth, following the formation of the Wolf Empire. While still inexperienced, Griff quickly proved himself in battle against the Lyran forces. Not only was he promoted for his actions, he also was transferred into the prestigious Beta Galaxy despite his relative youth.
In 3147, Griff was nominated for the Heller Bloodname. His success in the competition was as much due to his own skills and training as it was the simple lack of opponents. While he was successful, he also was disappointed to see just how diminished the Heller Bloodhouse had become in terms of numbers and influence. That he was then passed over for promotion in favour of a Bloodnamed warrior from a more prominent Bloodhouse only served to underscore the point.
While Griff is fanatically loyal to the Clan, he also feels frustrated by the complex politics of the Bloodnamed around him. He feels that he is unlikely to go any further due to his Bloodname, which has given him the drive to outperform his rivals on the battlefield. While he drives his Elemental star hard, he also has so far achieved excellent results.
-
Guest character by KayEmm
Tan Yo-Han
Position/Rank: Lieutenant
Affiliation/Unit: Mercenary/Red Right Hand
Birth Year: 3113
Born in the Capellan Confederation, Tan Yo-Han enlisted in the armed forces out of a sense of patriotic duty. Enrolled in the Sarna Martial Academy just before the Blackout, he was a promising student that had been directed towards Battle Armour training due to both his physical prowess and tactical acumen. Many had expected him to go far, but he was not ready for an unexpected twist.
Tan’s father was arrested for having Republic sympathies, casting suspicion over the rest of his family. Fearing for his life, Tan fled the academy and the Confederation as a whole, using the chaos of the Blackout to cover his escape. Initially having no real plan, he eventually settled on choosing to become a mercenary, feeling that it would be the only good way to employ his skills. Making his way to Galatea, Tan worked for several different units as both a conventional infantryman and then later a Battle Armour trooper before being headhunted by the Red Right Hand.
As a member of the unit, Tan’s role is equal parts scout, infiltrator, ambusher and headhunter. His team are often employed to take out certain objectives in discrete operations, often swaying the course of a battle before it has even started. When employed directly against enemy forces, he will try to locate and eliminate key enemy commanders or other high-value assets.
Tan holds no loyalty to the nation of his birth, and has so far displayed no reluctance to act against Capellan targets. He does, however, find it amusingly ironic that he is using a Battle Armour built in the Federated Suns.
Guest character by KayEmm
Naja Beniko
Position/Rank: Lieutenant
Affiliation/Unit: Republic of the Sphere
Birth Year: 3113
With her slight build, Naja Beniko does not fit the image usually associated with Battle Armor troopers; in fact, she only barely reached the minimums for a training program. Despite that, she is a capable and canny warrior who’s determination is only matched by her loyalty to the Republic.
Like many, Naja enlisted in the RAF as a way to earn her citizenship. At first, her plan was to simply serve a single tour of duty before turning her interests elsewhere, but fate had other ideas in store. Naja’s training was interrupted by the HPG Blackout, and the subsequent rise of factionalism and infighting within the Republic. As soon as she had graduated, she was fighting to help preserve her home nation from its enemies, both without and within.
Her unit fought in the first and second Jade Falcon invasions of Skye, facing off against the full force of an invading Clan. Seeing the battle from the ground not only made Naja even more determined in her loyalty to her homeland, but also gave her a deep hatred for the Clans. Not only was this aimed at the Jade Falcons for their merciless assault, but also at the Steel Wolves who, despite their assistance, she saw as little more then opportunists who had turned their back on the Republic.
Naja’s unit was among those that were within the Republic when the Fortress walls went up. Understanding the logic of the move, she instead focused herself on training and preparing for what would come next. Her experience and talent saw her selected by Knight Tariku Noab Adani to be a part of a special unit, codenamed Sunstorm, that was trained in anti-Clan tactics.
-
Guest chapter by Zogster
Interlude - The Epic of Gilgamesh
The darkened ‘Mech bay of the DropShip Ur was eerily silent. While the white noise of the ship’s engines droned on in the background, there was no movement to be heard. All was prepared for tomorrow’s drop, and the crew and MechWarriors were getting their much-needed rest before the frantic activity that it promised.
The stillness was broken by Lana Kotovski, making her way along one of the upper catwalks, dressed only in her brief bed wear. She came to a stop alongside her second-in-command Katarina Morrison, looking strangely out of place in the ship’s industrial hold wearing a plush dressing gown and holding a steaming mug.
“Couldn’t sleep either?” Lana asked.
It took a few moments for Katarina to respond. Eventually she nodded and turned to Lana, a wry smile across her face. “Nerves?”
“Eagerness,” Lana replied. “We’ve got a good plan, a solid estimation of their forces and, if all goes well, the element of surprise.” She shook her head and added, “No, this one’s in the bag.”
Katarina gave a brief chuckle and nodded to her commander. “Sometimes I wish I had your confidence.”
Lana leaned back against a railing, rolling her shoulders and groaning with the stretch. “Hey, second guessing keeps us on our toes. Just don’t let it take over.”
Katarina nodded once more, and they stood in silence for a second. She couldn’t help but let her eyes wander over her commander, settling on the jagged pale scar that marked the woman’s thigh.
“It’s not real, you know,” Lana said, as if reading her thoughts.
“Sorry?” Katarina started, briefly startled.
Lana cocked her head up to the looming form of the BattleMaster behind her. Looking up, Katarina couldn’t help but feel that Gilgamesh was gazing down at her. Watching her. Judging her.
“This curse,” Lana pressed on. “Really, it’s statistics. This ‘Mech has been with the unit longer than any other. It’s also the commander’s ‘Mech, and the heaviest one we field.” She turned around to look up at its impassive cockpit. “All that means it’s going to be targeted more than any other ‘Mech, and with its service record, well, of course it will have gone through more pilots.” She turned once more back to Katarina, favouring her with a smile. “So there’s nothing to worry about.”
Katarina shook her head slightly. “I wish I had your confidence.”
“You’re just paranoid because you’re tired,” Lana told her. “Get some sleep already.”
She chuckled in reply. “Sure thing, boss.” She finished up her drink and stepped past Lana. “I’m sure I’ll feel better in the morning.”
-----
Katarina could feel the perspiration dripping down her face under her neurohelmet. It wasn’t enough that they were in a running firefight, but the terrain had to be hot, wet and humid too. Loose stones crunched under Enkidu’s feet as it stomped through ankle-deep water. The shallows were on the edge of a steamy jungle, peppered with BattleMech-sized boulders that provided excellent cover. For the moment, elements of her own lance and the Star’s command lance were paused in amongst the boulders, readying their attack.
“Report in,” Lana’s voice came over the comms.
“Comet One,” Jakub spoke up. “We’ve got their skirmishers contained. You won’t have any interference.”
“Eye Command, this is Eye Two,” her second reported. “We’ve got them dislodged and retreating. Headed your way.”
“On it,” Katarina replied. She briefly glanced aside to see Lana’s BattleMaster waiting with her. The ‘Mech moved almost imperceptibly, as if nodding its agreement. Tension rose between the two as they saw movement in the trees, then sprang into action.
The enemy’s commander burst from the trees, his Hercules twisting as it advanced. Alongside it, an older Battleaxe strode backwards, still firing into the trees as it went. The BattleMaster and Warhammer stepped out as one, a barrage of blazing blue particle fire springing from their ‘Mechs and scoring across the Hercules’ torso. Even as she felt the heat surge in her cockpit, Katarina knew that the Hercules was suffering, seeing the secondary blue shocks coursing across its body. Beside it, the Battleaxe was punctured from behind by a volley of autocannon and missile fire, collapsing forwards even as its torso fell back in on itself. The ‘Mech was not getting up again.
“All points, concentrate fire!” Lana ordered. Not one to give up, the enemy commander returned fire. Katarina stepped forward, absorbing the brunt of its varied weapons. Numerous impacts rocked her ‘Mech, and she struggled to keep it upright. As one, the arrayed units concentrated their return fire on the Hercules. Short and long range missiles, autocannon and laser fire seared and smashed across the ‘Mech before the BattleMaster and Warhammer let loose another concentrated volley of particle fire, slamming into the Hercules’ torso. It teetered briefly, then crashed backwards into the shallow water, utterly lifeless.
“You alright there?” Lana asked.
“Yeah,” Katarina said between panting breaths. “Okay. More hot than anything.”
The BattleMaster stepped forwards and peered down at the Hercules’ inert form. “I know what you-“
“Star Command, we’ve got a squirrel!” Jakub’s voice broke in over the comms.
“Headed your way.”
Before anyone could respond, the runaway ‘Mech was on them. A Hellspawn burst out of nowhere, with Lana’s BattleMaster almost directly in its path. Without hesitating, it disgorged a swarm of missiles at almost point-blank range. Before she could react, Lana was caught head-on, Gilgamesh’s torso vanishing in a cloud of explosions.
Even as the BattleMaster teetered on the spot, the other assembled ‘Mechs were on it. Missiles, cannon and particle fire flew left and right, some tagging the squirrely machine. Wen’s Nightsky appeared out of nowhere, driving a hatchet into its hip and sending the Hellspawn ploughing side-on into the surf.
A second later, Gilgamesh pitched backwards, crashing unceremoniously into the shallows. Katarina turned, desperately calling over her communicator. “Boss, what happened? Are you there?” Without a reply, she desperately yelled out “Lana?”
-----
“Heatstroke.”
“Heatstroke?” Katarina repeated incredulously.
The Star’s diminutive chief medical officer nodded and repeated “Heatstroke.” She stood in the door to the medical bay, somehow blocking the passage despite her small size. Katarina tried to peer around her, but could only catch a glimpse of her commander stretched out on the medical bay.
“How does that even…” Katarina trailed off, bemused.
“Fluke hit,” the doctor said with a shrug. “Apparently one of the missiles knocked out her ‘Mech’s life support. Of course, it was already running hot from sustained PPC fire, and the sweatbox outside didn’t help.”
“Unbelievable.” Katarina shook her head in dismay. “A hit like that –“
“Was damn lucky,” the doctor replied. “A nudge over, and we would have had a breach like last time. And with her already passed out in the cockpit, she could have easily drowned.”
“Can I –“
“No,” came the blunt answer. “She needs rest. And you need something else to occupy your mind.” Katarina looked at the doctor oddly, who pressed on as if she could read the captain’s thoughts. “I know what you people say about that damned ‘Mech. And it’s rubbish. Just find a way to get over it.”
“Right, you’re right.” Katarina nodded. “Rational heads. I know what to do.”
-----
Jakub and Angela leaned over the holographic display, examining the BattleMechs projected on the table. Angela shuffled around to one side to find where Jakub’s Shadow Hawk stood amongst its lance, opposite a quartet of enemy ‘Mechs picked out in red. The MegaMek tactical simulation had loaded up his last battle, and Angela watched as it generated the rocky seashore from his unit’s collected BattleROMs.
Angela looked up to see him poring over the field, uncharacteristically serious. Unnoticed, she leaned up and poked him in the shoulder. He started briefly, then looked over at her, uttering “What?”
“You really like this, don’t you?” Angela asked.
“Well yeah,” he replied, gesturing to a Warhammer at the jungle’s edge. “It’s the only time I get to push mum around.”
“Mum?” Angela asked with a chuckle.
“Uh…” Jakub flushed red, and gritted his teeth in embarrassment. “Uh, I meant Katarina. Captain Morrison.”
“Sure, let’s go with that,” Angela needled him. She scooched over closer to him to look at the fight on the seashore. “So everything looks good here. Staged a solid ambush, took down the command element. Won the day right here.”
“That’s not the problem.” Jakub tapped a few keys and the ‘Mechs on the board rapidly repositioned. Now his lance was spread in a crescent, flanking the units they were previously facing. “I didn’t box them in enough, and we had a runner. That’s how…” They watched as the battle progressed, and a holographic Hellspawn ran straight into the command element.
“Right. So!” Angela all but grabbed the controls away from him. As Jakub watched, the battle rewound to the point where the two medium lances confronted each other. She keyed in more commands, and as the battle progressed, Jakub’s lance leapt into position, fully encircling the enemy unit. “There you go. Got them boxed in, so no runners.”
“Almost,” came a voice from the darkness of the chamber. Lanie King stepped over to the young pair. “Problem is, they have no escape so they have to make one. Concentrate fire on one of your ‘Mechs, and then punch through to the battle.”
“So what do we do?” Jakub asked the seasoned commander.
“Give them an out,” she replied. She repositioned the ‘Mechs on the board into a crescent formation once more, but this time with an opening heading out away from the battle. “But make it the way you want them to go. Best case they retreat, worst case they take time circling around to the main furball, and you can chase them down.”
“But we don’t take them out,” Angela replied.
“But you take them out of the fight. Remember, you’re not here to make kills, you’re here to win the battle.”
Angela nodded her understanding. “Less conflict, less repairs, everyone goes home safe.”
“And this way Auntie doesn’t get hurt,” Jakub said, half to himself. He was broken out of his reverie by Angela’s raucous laughter. Blinking in surprise, he looked between the two of them and asked “What?”
“Word of advice, don’t let your commanding officer hear you call her ‘Auntie,’” Lanie said, grinning ear to ear.
“Especially where the troops can hear you,” Katarina said, striding into the chamber.
Lanie stepped forward and greeted her with a warm hug. “Hey, what brings you here? Checking on the kids?”
“Nah, needed some advice,” she said.
“Alright,” Lanie nodded. “You two keep at it,” she said to Angela and Jakub, before guiding Katarina out of the room. “So what’s got you?”
“It’s a weird one,” Katarina admitted once they were out of earshot. “I wanted to look up the service history of a BattleMech, before it came into our unit’s possession.”
“This is about that BattleMaster, isn’t it?” Lanie said straight out.
“You know?” Katarina asked, puzzled.
Lanie frowned for a moment, as if trying to figure out just what to say. Eventually she sighed and said “Look, whatever helps you sleep at night.”
Unsure how to take that, Katarina instead pressed on ahead. “I’m thinking there must have been some kind of records, but with the Blackout…”
“I suppose the question is, if there’s any backups,” Lanie replied. “You’d need a lot of storage, and someone really fussy to save what’s frankly, some pretty trivial records.”
The pair looked at each other for a moment, before simultaneously realisation dawned on both their faces.
“Oh no,” Katarina said, visibly sagging. “Not –“
-----
“How can ComStar help you today?” Deep Zimmerman said with unchecked enthusiasm. Katarina was almost taken aback by his forceful cheer. The eeriness of the setting didn’t help.
The ComStar station on Galatea was, back in the day, a massive hub of activity to service the mercenary trade. Of course, nearly twenty years after the HPG blackout, the place had gone from a source of planet-wide frustration to a symbol of lost power, before being all but forgotten by the populace. From the looks of the place, it was all but forgotten by ComStar as well. So far, Katarina had not seen a single soul in the cavernous chambers of the station. Except, of course, for the overly cheerful man who had greeted.
“Hey. Deep,” she began uneasily. Everyone seemed to know Deep, and worryingly enough Deep seemed to know everyone. Opinions ranged from ‘harmless’ to ‘one-man-conspiracy,’ but nobody could deny that he was friendly, helpful and eager to please. How much of that was real was the eternal question.
She realised that Deep was still waiting for her answer, and quickly composed herself. “Yeah. I know it’s a long shot, but I was hoping you had kept archives of BattleMech service records –“
“Of course!” came the enthusiastic reply.
“Wait, you have?” Katarina asked. Honestly, she thought this would be much harder.
“Well, for all BattleMechs in service to MRBC-registered mercenary units that operate out of Galatea, that is,” Deep said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the Inner Sphere. “Can’t have everything.”
“No, that’s… good,” she replied, uncertain if she wanted to go further.
“So what was it you needed?”
“Wanted to have a look at the service history of a particular ‘Mech from our command,” Katarina replied. And convince myself I’m imagining things.
“Ah, Gilgamesh,” Deep said with unbridled enthusiasm. “Let me show you to our archives. Normally I wouldn’t want to leave the front desk unattended, but…” He peered past her at the vast empty chamber. “I’m sure it’ll be fine for today.”
The archives turned out to be a long walk down a vast corridor under great, vaulted ceilings. No doubt in the day they were meant to impress upon visitors the great power and vast reach of ComStar; now it only emphasised just how empty the place was.
Soon enough they came to the archives. It was an odd combination of styles; tables with discrete terminals evoking and old-fashioned reading room, but the long rows of books here were instead towering banks of data storage. Deep swept up to the front desk and started tapping merrily away, mirroring his results on a customer-facing screen.
Okay, this is it, Katarina thought to herself. There’s going to be nothing there. It’s just statistics like Lana said. It’s all in my mind.
“Ah yes, Headcase Larry.” Deep said, smiling broadly.
“Sorry, come again?”
“The band your unit took it from called the BattleMech ‘Headcase Larry.’ After its first pilot, presumably named Larry.”
“Who was a headcase?” Katarina asked, confused.
“No, that was from the habit of having its head shot off.” Deep busied himself going through the files. “Looked like it happened quite a bit.” He perked up once more, beaming at Katarina. “That’s how your unit came across it, right?”
“Right,” she said, weakly. “How about before that?”
“Well, that group found it at the bottom of a thirty meter ravine, after the bridge it was crossing gave out. Freak structural failure I gather. Says here that was its first outing for those owners.”
From then, the facts and stories seemed to blend together. On one occasion, the BattleMaster was known as The Coffin because only dead men got in it; another group called it The Widower for distressingly similar reason. A Lyran noble line who had owned the BattleMech eventually called it The Family Curse after it claimed a dozen eligible pilots within three decades.
“And these aren’t just stories?” Katarina asked, somewhat hopefully.
“Oh, no,” Deep replied. “All in the archives. Set in stone.” He beamed at her once more. “Was there something else?”
-----
What else was there to do? Katarina leaned back on the 'Mechbay’s railing, once again staring into Gilgamesh’s impassive domed cockpit. She could sell it, but then would it just go on killing other pilots. Scrap it? No, it was a perfectly good BattleMech, suspicions be damned. The unit’s first commander, Larissa, had retired from injuries sustained piloting this thing, but at least she made it out alive. If there’s a chance –
“I’m still alive,” came Lana’s cheerful voice from her side, drawing her out of her gloom. “You’ve got nothing to worry about.”
“Sorry, it’s…” Katarina sighed. “I don’t know what’s been going through my head.”
“Lanie was worried about you,” her commander said. “Said you were obsessing again?”
“It’s…” Katarina paused. She glanced up at the BattleMaster once more, then turned to her friend. “No, you’re right. I’m making way too big a deal about it.”
Lana stepped up and threw an arm around her shoulder, gently guiding her away from the ‘Mech bay. “Nothing’s going to happen. I’m going to retire when I want to, not when some silly curse decides my time is up.” Katarina looked up at her in surprise, and she just smiled.
“Besides. Gilgamesh is immortal.”
-
Guest chapter by KayEmm
Interlude - On the Grill
Contrary to popular belief, it did not always rain in Solaris City. There were those days that were just plain dull and overcast, and those rare few that were actually bright and sunny. On those days, the city would explode with activity as its residents took advantage of the opportunity to get outside. The foot traffic on the streets was considerable on those days, offering plentiful opportunities for those who wanted to get lost in a crowd.
Ariel Lamicheck had taken advantage of the opportunity to make their way towards their next meeting. It was a nice change of pace to be able to simply get out and stroll without being soaked to the bone. The evening air, while chilly, was also not entirely unpleasant. As they strolled down the Kobe street, they took in the smells wafting from a row of restaurants, many taking advantage of the opportunity to open their windows and lure in passers-by with the tantalising scents of their offerings.
They picked out one place, a yakitori-ya with streetside dining. Taking their place at one of the outdoor tables, Ariel looked over the menu before ordering an appetising selection for two.
Not to long after they had ordered, Ariel was joined by another figure, a man they did not recognise. Heavyset, their features were dominated by a large nose that managed to be both pockmarked and scarred at the same time. Whatever attributes they bought to this enterprise, Ariel noted, good looks were not one of them. On the other side, they were still casual in their approach, doing nothing to draw attention to themselves as they approached and sat.
“Ariel Lamicheck,” he began.
“I am,” they nodded back in reply. “And you?”
“A friend of a friend of yours,” he replied, scratching his right ear. To most people this would seem a casual, absent-minded gesture. However, it also suggested another person that Ariel had met, one who was missing a portion of their right ear.
“Pleasure to meet you,” Ariel replied as they put several skewers onto the grill. “I went ahead and ordered in advance.”
“Kind of you,” the man replied, his tone suggesting this was a rare pleasantry.
“So what do you have?” Ariel asked.
“A proposition,” he replied. “We share the same feelings regarding our beloved protectors. And your recent efforts have made my own friends very happy.”
“So I’ve gathered,” Ariel commented as they took a bit of octopus. The bite of the wasabi was obvious, adding to the flavor.
“I have the means to help you with your little crusade of defiance,” he continued.
“How so?”
“Supplies,” he grunted as he took a look at some of the side dishes. “Things that are not as common any more as we would like.”
“I see,” Ariel nodded. While the Wolves had allowed the Solaris games to continue, they had also severely restricted the trade in ‘Mech parts and equipment as a way to ensure their control. It also meant that their warriors had as many advantages as possible when they chose to ‘prove’ themselves in the Solaris arenas.
“Here’s something I put together,” he commented as he put a datapad onto the table, then took a scoop of octopus for himself. “mm, that does bite. Tell me what you think.”
Ariel picked up the datapad and looked over it. “You know that with this loadout Skinner will run hotter than the devil’s ******,” they mused.
“That’s one way to put it,” the contact admitted.
“But I do like it,” they continued. “Should I even ask where you got all this from?”
“I know a couple of guys from one of the Free Guilds,” the contact grunted as they turned over one of their skewers. “They racked up considerable debts betting on matches, which gave me some leverage.”
“Mmhmm,” Ariel nodded as they took a bite from one of their skewers.
“Their loss is your gain,” he finished.
Ariel smirked. “I’m in. I’ll take delivery whenever you can, though I think I’ll run stock for my next match regardless. I’ll save this as a surprise for the next Wolf who wants a shot at me.”
“You think that will happen?” the man asked.
That bought a chuckle. “I’m betting on it.”
-
Interlude - Father’s Day
From above, the ‘Mech bay was a hive of activity. Technical crews crawled over the titanic war machines, working on them as they made them ready for travel. Others were busy packing up parts and other supplies for transport, or engaged in other related activities.
For all that, there was one thing that had caught Irisz Magyari’s eye and brought her up here to the catwalks over the bay. She’d spotted Jessie Packard sitting there, looking down at everything that was going on, which was enough to draw her away from her work.
“Something on your mind?” Irisz asked as she sat down next to her. She knew enough to know that this was where Jessie came when there was something bothering her. It happened a lot.
“Naw,” Jessie managed, leaning on her crossed arms. Her short sleeves made for an odd contrast; the elaborate and colourful tattoos on her right arm clashed with the mess of burn scars on her left.
“Mm-hm,” Irisz nodded. “Not concerned about the contract or the like?”
“Naw,” Jessie repeated. “I spent my entire life being dragged from one planet to the next. This ain’t too much different.”
“Sure,” Irisz managed. She had her own concerns about the contract, largely because it seemed that her unit was flying into a world of unknowns. However, she suspected that wasn’t what was really on Jessie’s mind right now.
“Jus’ thinkin',” Jessie finally admitted after a long pause. “Y’alls been good to me, you know that. Especially given my past and all.”
Irisz shrugged. “You came to me. I wasn’t going to turn you down because of your past or your family or the like.”
“Yeah, I mean like...” Jessie sighed. “What with my mom being who she was.”
“If I got hung up on family, then I wouldn’t be here now,” Irisz simply admitted. “Honestly, until I met your mother, I had no idea that anyone was continuing to push that family feud. And I don’t blame you at all for being caught up in it. You didn’t get a say in it, after all.”
“Yeah, I mean, my mom was batcrap insane and all that,” Jessie frankly stated.
Irisz didn’t say a thing, but did nod and offer a small smile. “And you don’t need to worry about her any more.”
“I know,” Jessie admitted. “Jus’ hard to push out of my mind sometimes.”
“You really should talk to Ronnie more often,” Irisz suggested. In many ways, he’d been just as much a victim of their mother’s insanity, even if in different ways from his sister. Yet the pair of them still were reluctant to approach the issue, or anything else.
“Probably,” Jessie sighed, then shot a glance at Irisz. “Hey, can I ask you a question?”
“Sure,” Irisz smiled.
“What was you dad like?”
That gave Irisz a pause, as she considered the matter. Jessie had never known the man who she thought was her father; he had died when she was only a few months old. On top of that, her relationship with her stepfather had not been the easiest either.
“Bors Magyari was a complicated man,” she finally managed.
“How so?”
“Well, he was really dedicated to the family name and unit,” Irisz explained. “He was the youngest of three, and neither his brother or sister wanted to be mercenaries or inherit the unit or anything else. My grandmother told him that he could do anything else with his life if he wanted to, but instead he wanted to lead the Irregulars. And it wasn’t just out of some obligation to her or the like; it genuinely was what he wanted.”
Jessie nodded as Irisz continued. “Now, I’m not going to say he was the best commander he could have been. His tactical skills were... lacking, and he filled the unit with a lot of dead wood for the simple sake of bulking out numbers. But it was still his passion, and what he really wanted to do with his life. And he genuinely cared for his people.”
Now it was her turn to sigh. “He wasn’t the best father either, and I long ago accepted that. He had a lot of... lady friends, I think is the best way to put it. And after a while, it wasn’t hard for me to figure out what was going on. That was a big part of why he and my mother split up, even if it wasn’t the only one.”
Jessie nodded. “And yer gonna say ‘but’ next,” she added.
“I am,” Irisz confirmed. “Despite his many flaws, he was still a good man. He was honest and forthright in a trade that often fills up with the dishonest and slipshod. And above all else, I know that he genuinely loved me as his daughter, and not just because I was his heir. He extended the same choice to me as his mother did to him; I could inherit the unit, but only if I wanted to.”
“And when I said yes, he did everything he could to support me.”
“That’s good,” Jessie nodded. “My mom didn’t exactly give me a choice in the matter.”
“I know,” Irisz agreed. Everything she’d learned about Connie Raymond made it clear just how little regard she had for her children as people. “And I am so sorry for what happened to you.”
“Not yer fault,” Jessie shrugged. There was another pause before she spoke again. “So, um, what happened to him?”
Irisz considered the question for a moment. Her father’s death was now a known factor among the unit, but even then Irisz still didn’t have all the details and probably never would. “You mean when he left?”
“Yeah.”
“Well,” Irisz took a deep breath before she continued. “It was very sudden. June of ’35, he told me that he had to go to Outreach on personal business. The next thing I knew he’d packed his bags and made me provisional commander of the Irregulars until he returned. Less than a week later he was on a DropShip offworld, with no indication of when he was coming back.”
“And he didn’t,” Jessie concluded.
“He did not,” she confirmed. “The walls of Fortress Republic went up, and Outreach was inside of them. He simply vanished into a black hole, along with everything else behind it. That was the last I heard of him until now”
“I’m sorry.”
“Its okay,” Irisz admitted. “I think that deep down I had long ago accepted that I would never see him again, one way or another. When I got the news, it was less of a shock and more of a confirmation of the inevitable.”
Jessie nodded, then paused again. “Did he say what it was? His business, I mean.”
“No,” Irisz shook her head. “I guess I’ll never know.”
Jessie looked like she was about to say something, then cut herself off. “What about your mom?” She finally asked.
“Oh she’s awesome,” Irisz replied with a chuckle. “I’ll have to introduce you sometime.”
“I’d like that,” Jessie finally smiled.
-
Interlude - Roman Holiday
Outside of Zadar
Illyria
Free Worlds League
15 January 3151
A stream of missiles leapt from the battered Crusader’s arms, streaking towards Ronnie Raymond’s Griffin. Despite his best efforts, the medium BattleMech took a number of hits across its torso and arms, wavering under the impacts but remaining standing.
Not wasting any time, he shot back with his own PPC, the rifle-like weapon spitting out a stream of brilliant artificial lightning. The bolt speared into the enemy BattleMech’s barrel chest, flaying armour from its torso. Not waiting around to see how badly he had wounded his target, Ronnie fired his jump jets, vaulting back into a stand of trees to gain some cover from his heavier opponent.
The damaged BattleMech pushed forwards, closing in on Ronnie’s BattleMech, despite the damage it had already taken. As it advanced, a shape emerged from around its flank, another ‘Mech leaping into the air on jets of plasma flame. Realising what had just happened, the Crusader turned to face the newcomer, not fully aware of what it was up against.
Terry McKinnon’s Phoenix Hawk leapt over the Crusader, coming down on its far side even as it tried to react to his presence. Taking advantage of the opening, Ronnie opened up on it with his PPC and missiles. The particle cannon again stabbed into the heavier BattleMech, piercing its side and slicing into the fragile systems within. A half-dozen missiles added to the assault, battering the ‘Mech as they sought out gaps in its already-depleted armour.
As it wavered, Terry opened up with his own lasers. Brilliant red beams tore into its flank, eating their way through the armour. As they did, its back blew apart, brilliant flames leaping out from within the BattleMech’s body before the side was torn apart. A moment later, the top of the head blasted open, with the ejector seat sending the MechWarrior soaring away from their doomed machine.
Deprived of control and with its reactor either damaged or shut down, the husk of the Crusader crashed to the ground.
“Dagger lead to control,” Terry called out over the command network. “Target down. Ejection at our location; send in a recovery crew.”
As he received the conformation, he took a moment to glance around at the situation. Several vehicles were strewn across the battlefield, either burning or otherwise disabled. A Stinger and Dervish were jetting away in the distance, both clearly damaged and under fire. “We have a pair of runners,” he added. "Going to try to chase them down.”
Even though the Marian forces had abandoned Illyria in the new year, by accident or design there were still some of their troops left on-world. Those last holdouts were still causing trouble for the Free Worlds forces and their allies, although their numbers were rapidly being worn down.
Terry fired his jump jets again, leaping after the two fleeing BattleMechs. The Dervish had likely seen him coming and let loose two flights of long-range missiles towards his ‘Mech. None of them made their mark, instead cratering the area around him. With none of his own weapons in range, there was little that he could do other than bear with it as he attempted to close. A glance at his display told him that Ronnie was further back, with little chance of catching either ‘Mech.
Abruptly, a trio of beams speared through the Stinger’s torso. The light BattleMech simply ceased to be as its upper half disintegrated in a ball of fusion flame. Glancing around, Terry spotted a sleek aerospace fighter pulling away. “Check that, command. Only one of them is still loose.”
He quickly switched over to a private channel. “Speaking of, how are things going with Leah?”
“Dude, not the time,” Ronnie simply replied.
“That good, huh?”
The Dervish vanished into a copse of trees, the thick growths quickly concealing the BattleMech. “Lost him,” Terry sighed. “See if we can track him from the air or some of our friends can give us a lead.” While not universal by any means, there had been more than a few Illyrians who had stepped forwards to aid the Free Worlds forces during and after the invasion. Terry felt that it was less about any love for the League or its people, and more a dislike for the Hegemony. It was something he could deal with no less.
He flipped open a command channel. “Dagger lead to command,” Terry reported. “Enemy forces have disengaged. One BattleMech still unaccounted for.”
“Roger that,” the voice on the other end reported. “Secure the site. Salvage teams are inbound.”
“Confirmed,” Terry glanced at his status boards, including the members of his lance. Save for some ammunition and armour damage, they had come out of the skirmish more or less unharmed. They’d clearly done a lot better than the Marians out of the engagement. “All units, hold ground for the moment. Oh, and thanks for the assist there, Knife Flight.”
“Not a problem,” Leah’s voice crackled over the communicator. “Oh, and remind Dagger Two about tomorrow night, will you? He’s not going to use this skirmish as an excuse.”
“Will do,” Terry chuckled.
-----
17 January 3151
“You know what’s the single constant of warfare in the thirty-second century?” Terry asked as he and Ronnie walked through the encampment.
“I can think of a number of answers,” Ronnie replied, “but all of them are serious which means that none of them suit you.”
“You got that right.”
“So what is it then?”
Terry gestured around them. “No matter where you go, a Sea Fox will be there.”
“Can’t argue there,” Ronnie admitted. A Sea Fox JumpShip had arrived in-system a week ago, appearing suspiciously soon after the launch of the campaign to take the world. Terry had been privy to some of the discussions between his half-brother (and commander) and some of the other leaders of the League forces, who had tried to figure out the situation. The best they could come up with was that the Clan merchants had somehow gotten wind of Duke Marik’s plan, and had reasoned that regardless of who won, whatever forces were holding the world would need supplies.
Judging from the activity in the encampment, their logic appeared sound. A trio of DropShips acted as the points of a triangle, with numerous tents, stands and displays set up between them. Those were in turn home to a variety of wares, ranging from ration packs and small arms to BattleMechs. In among the crowds, Terry could see members of the Tamarind Regulars they had fought alongside, as well as the occasional soldier or technician from the Caballeros and the Marauders.
“So what are we here for?” Ronnie asked as he looked around. “No offence, but I think your brother would kill you if you made any major purchases without clearing it with him first.”
“No, that’s entirely fair,” Terry admitted. “Mostly I’m here to browse, but it’s also a handy way to gather information and a few other things.”
“What sort of other things?”
“This,” Terry indicated towards a stand in front of them, one that was a lot smaller than the others and, more interestingly, did not seem to be selling weapons.
“Taco Shark?” Ronnie squinted.
“You’ll love it, trust me,” Terry grinned as he approached the counter. “Two Beef IICs with extra chili sauce,” he ordered.
“Seriously?”
“Trust me on this,” he confidently continued as he handed a massively over-stuffed taco to Ronnie.
He eyed it up before taking a bite. “Okay, that’s good,” Ronnie finally admitted.
“Told you,” he nodded as the pair of them slowly walked through the camp, tacos in hand. “So how’d things go with Leah?”
“Um, alright?” Ronnie managed, somewhat noncommittally.
Terry glanced at him. “Seriously? What is it now?”
Ronnie munched on his taco for a moment, clearly lost in thought. “I mean, I dunno. I think she might be too good for me.”
“What do you mean?”
“I look at my family history,” Ronnie explained. “And, uh, it’s not fantastic. I mean, my mum was screaming insane and all.”
“Okay, so it’s not that bad,” Terry noted. “Besides, it’s not like she’s going to mess up your dates or something.”
“It’s not just that,” Ronnie continued between bites. “I met my grandfather a couple of times. He basically spent his whole life stewing in resentment, especially after being usurped by his daughter.” He held up a finger between bites. “His dad was a fall-down drunk. And then his mum was so obsessed with vengeance that she sold her unit to the Word and nearly got them all killed.”
“Okay, well...” Terry paused a moment. “What about your father’s side of the family? Your dad seems pretty okay.”
“Yeah, but he also married to my mum for twenty-five years and didn’t realise just how insane she was,” Ronnie countered.
“Yeah, but consider this,” Terry noted. “You recognise all this, and acknowledge it. That makes you better then them.”
“Really?”
“Trust me,” Terry continued. “Look, my relationship with my half-brother and father isn’t plain sailing either. But I don’t let it get to me.”
“I suppose so,” Ronnie considered. “Damn, but this is a good taco.”
Terry laughed. “Told you.” The pair of them ambled towards one of the DropShips, only for Terry to pause. “Son of a...”
“What now?”
Terry indicated a Sea Fox officer standing by one of the booths, looking trim and immaculate among the crowds. His response was to nod to the pair of them in recognition. “You can’t go anywhere,” Terry considered as he approached the Clan warrior. “Star Captain Cameron Clarke. What brings you out here?”
“Good to see you, Terry McKinnon,” Cameron replied. “And the answer is profit. What else could it be?”
“Well yeah,” he nodded. “This is Ronnie Raymond, my second. Ronnie, this is Cameron Clarke, a pure shark.”
“You flatter me,” Cameron replied. “How have things been here on Illyria?”
“Well, Cameron,” Terry considered, “that depends on how much it’s worth to you.”
Clarke laughed. “And that is what I want to hear. So, let us talk...”
-
Guest Chapter by Zogster
Burning Bright
From the journal of Luke Vasily
(T+0, 1st January 3151)
Coming to Terra has been a strange experience. In many ways it is my home; the seat of Republic government, the cradle of humanity and above all else, the distant world I’ve been fighting for since the Blackout began. And yet, until very recently, I had never actually set foot on it. I can understand the need for the recall, and the forces being marshalled here are truly impressive. I was able to make my way back here with a not-inconsiderable number of additional units I scrounged up over my numerous campaigns across Republic worlds.
Former Republic worlds.
It’s hard to imagine the loss of such a great cause. Historically, the Republic has existed for less than a century, but the ideal it represents is a great one. I can only hope that we hold strong; repel this invasion and keep, if nothing else, the seat of the Republic alive and intact. I’ve leant my expertise already, training up others in the fast strike and hit-and-fade tactics that have served me well these past decades. But now I’m being assigned a sector. With my new position of Knight, I’m to assist a unit named the Thai Tigers. Their homeland seems perfectly suited to my method of fighting, and I’m sure they can learn from my experience.
(T+7, 8th January 3151)
I’ve made my career on fast strike attacks, moving with the terrain and eliminating high value targets. Speed and situational awareness has always allowed me to escape before facing a counterattack. I honestly thought I could teach the Thai Tigers a thing or two about jungle warfare.
They’ve taught me a great deal about savagery.
The jungles of their homeland are not just cover, not just protection to them. They are a weapon, to be used relentlessly. They’ve been freely burning the terrain, using the fires to trap Wolf Epsilon forces and then the smoke to escape. They’ve struck with a suddenness and brutality that has caught me off-guard as much as the enemy we’ve been facing. They’ve been able to cut off and eliminate prominent targets, from enemy commanders to supply depots, even down to communication infrastructure that they eliminate to further sow panic and disarray amongst the Wolves.
Rather than teaching them, my experience has let me keep up.
It disturbs me, to be honest. This is their home. They know every centimeter of the jungle, given how expertly they use it to evade pursuit and outmaneuver their attackers. And yet, they are ready and willing to destroy it, to burn it down around them to fight the Wolf forces. I’ve fought for years, but I’ve never experienced this sort of intensity before.
(T+10, 11th January, 3151)
Wolf forces are getting serious about Thailand. Previously, our main opposition was their Epsilon Galaxy, made up as much from Lyran salvage as it is Clan-native equipment. That changed today. Elements from other Galaxies have appeared in the area, bringing a higher grade of equipment with them. Worse yet, they’ve attacked from all around. While more of the Epsilon units have been circling around us, a front of more experienced and better equipped Clan forces have come in from behind. Our operational area is shrinking, and it looks more and more like our time is limited. I feel a decisive victory is no longer in our grasp.
There has been no talk of defeat.
I’m impressed by my hosts’ resolve. Even with the greater numbers in play, they’ve kept up their campaign of targeted harassment. A particular play today lead a heavy element into an ambush involving a refitted Word Fafnir. While we lost the assault ‘Mech, the Wolves paid a heavy price for taking it out of play. Still, I see the jungles burn and I wonder, how can it be worth fighting for their home by destroying it?
(T+11, 12th January, 3151)
It’s over, and I understand now.
I’ve spent the better part of two decades bouncing from world to world, going where I was needed. Striking, evading, and fading. I’ve known a lost battle when I saw one, and understood the value of giving ground and retreating when needed. But the most important difference between my other campaigns and Thailand is that I was never fighting for my home.
Thailand is the Tigers’ home, and they would never give it up.
Earth was never my home. Important though it was, it was still another target, another operation, another mission; win or lose. I never had the determination the Tigers did to hold onto it. For them, defeat was to lose their home. Better to destroy it themselves than to surrender it to the Wolves.
We have fought our last battle. With the lines closing in, the Tigers mounted an assault on the Wolves’ Gamma Galaxy forces. I have never witnessed such determination in battle as they punched through enemy lines, giving twice as hard as they received. But I think it was never a battle that could be won. The Wolves’ other divisions closed in on us, and crushed the Tigers even as they fought their way through the remnants of Gamma. While I escaped the field, the vast majority of our forces were destroyed and the rest surrendered. The Wolves have won the field, but were made to pay dearly for every meter of it.
And what now? It’s a long haul to meet up with the nearest Republic command, even if I can evade capture in the meantime. I will certainly take the lessons I’ve learned alongside the Tigers to heart. Earth may not be my home, but I will fight for it with everything I have.
-
Rush Hour II
Hong Kong, China District, Asia
Terra
Republic of the Sphere
T+10
Leeandra Connors had never seen the battlefields of the Jihad or the Succession Wars, but as her Trinary picked their way though the streets of Hong Kong, she had to imagine that this was what they had looked like. When Beta Galaxy had begun their assault on the city, it was a gleaming, bustling metropolis that spoke of the wealth and power of humanity’s cradle. If anything, the fortifications and bunkers that surrounded it only made it seem even more amazing by demonstrating just how valuable it was.
Now her Binary were picking their way through streets that were choked with rubble that had fallen from the shattered towers that loomed above them. Many of those had been reduced to broken husks, with their broken forms reaching into the sky. Two days of saturation artillery bombardment and air strikes had been needed to break through those defenses. While they had opened the way for the Wolf forces, they had also had devastated much of the city.
The Wolves had surged into the city, only to run into ambushes from the heavy tanks of the Republican defenders. While the first wave from Iota Galaxy had suffered the worst losses, they had been enough to turn the Wolves’ eager rush into a cautious march. While her Binary was supposed to be a fast strike unit, they were now moving with uncharacteristic caution lest they run headlong into another ambush.
“Dogmeat has found something,” MechWarrior Ed cut into the channel, his Ice Ferret at the head of their formation. Quietly Leendra clenched the controls in irritation at his flippancy. Not only had Ed decided to give his BattleMech a stupid name, but he had then decided to be stupid about it. And yet, he had also managed to survive the hell of Vietnam when better warriors had not.
“What is it?” She demanded.
“Looks like heavy tanks shel-“ he began, but was cut off by a sudden roar of gunfire. A hail of shells slammed into Ed’s BattleMech, streaming out from a half-collapsed tower and tearing into its armour. Part of the burst sawed through the right leg at the knee, sending the Ice Ferret toppling backwards to the street.
Leeandra could see the source of the attack; a Schmitt tank that was half concealed in the entrance of an underground carpark. Moments later, the glass front of a building shattered as a Marksman tank opened fire with its Gauss rifle, the shot slamming into the arm of Edward’s Adder. The squat BattleMech recoiled from the hit, stumbling but maintaining its footing for the moment.
“Spread out and do not let them focus on you,” she called out as she fired her jump jets, the Arctic Wolf II taking to the air. Her goal was less about getting away as it was simply making herself less of a target. A Kinnol emerged from cover, its autocannon spitting shells into the air in a desperate effort to track her.
As she came down, Leeandra locked her sights onto the half-hidden Schmitt tank. A clear tone came from the targeting system as she squeezed the trigger, unleashing a torrent of Streak SRMs at the target. The area around the carpark entrance was covered in a hail of explosions, but it was hard to tell how much actual damage she was doing to the tank and how much fire was simply being absorbed by the structure around it.
“Bloodseeker lead to all units,” she called out over the command channel. “I have multiple heavy tanks at my location.” The other Star of her Binary was nearby, but the sheer density of the city, as well as the damage done to it, was going to slow them down.
Edward backed up his Adder, using the combination of the rubble and the downed Ice Ferret as cover before firing his remaining functional PPC back at his attacker. A moment later, a trio of PPC shots slammed into it, the light BattleMech lost in a maelstrom of blue fire. Battered, it wavered but managed to retain its footing despite the ferocity of the assault.
Leeandra caught a glimpse of the attacker as she moved, a Morgan tank lurking inside a shattered foyer. A moment later, Frank Wallace’s Stormwolf vaulted into view, its plasma cannon sending a burning stream of superheated flame into the building. She added another flight of Streak SRMs to the assault, the missiles pummeling both the tank and the building it was using as shelter.
She had only a moment’s warning before the first missiles came arcing out of the sky. Their fire was scattered and inaccurate, but still enough to have Frank and Ed’s anti-missile systems (the latter miraculously still functional) attempt to swat them out of the sky. “They must have spotters in the buildings,” she yelled out. “We need to find them and shut them down.”
Autocannon fire from the Schmitt peppered her Arctic Wolf’s side, rattling it and her but not doing any damage beyond gnawing at the armour. She opened up on it again, her missiles producing the same mixed results, much to her frustration. We have the mobility to simply disengage from them, she considered as she jetted away again, but that would leave them able to attack our forces from behind.
Edward’s BattleMech staggered again under the Kinnol’s fire, its left side now little more than wreckage. Any victory its crew might have felt, however, was short-lived as a Point of Rache suits vaulted into view before just as quickly bounding into the rubble it was using as shelter. At such close ranges, that cover would work against it, leaving the tank unable to escape the battle-armoured troops swarming it.
“We have this,” a voice came over the command channel. Between the background noise and the weapons fire, she could just make it out as Star Commander Griff Heller.
“Concentrate on knocking out those spotters,” Leenadra replied as she fired her jets again, looking over the situation. Her systems gave her a clean lock on the Morgan, letting her loose another volley of Streak SRMs. The combination of them and the fire from Frank’s plasma rifle sent a sizable chunk of the building crashing down on top of the tank, kicking up clouds of dust as it did.
Any questions of whether it was still active were answered when more PPC fire emerged from the rubble. This time their brilliant fire washed over the Stormwolf, dissipating against its armour.
Leeandra didn’t have time to consider the situation before a shot slammed into her BattleMech’s side, rocking it while setting off alarms inside the cockpit. Moments later, a volley of missiles added to the damage, setting off even more alarms. Wheeling around, she saw the hulking form of the Marksman tank advancing on her, its turret facing in her direction.
“Neg,” she simply said to herself, again taking to the air. As she lifted off, she could see battle armour suits leaping from building to building, gunfights breaking out wherever they landed. But her main focus was the Marksman tank as it continued to try and track her. She unleashed another hail of missiles, the shots slamming into the vehicle’s hull and turret in a furious storm of destruction.
As her Arctic Wolf II landed it suddenly lurched, another alarm going off in the cockpit. Glancing at her status board, Leeandra could see a red light on one of her leg actuators; already damaged, it had been overstressed by the impact of the landing. And as she wrestled with the controls, another threat presented itself; the battered but decidedly still functional form of the Marksman.
Its turret violently twisted as a Gauss slug slammed into it, smashing through the already-ravaged armour. Moments later, a flight of missiles followed through, finding the holes that she had already opened and exploited them to the fullest. Armoured panels blew out as something inside the tank detonated, rocking the massive vehicle.
“Do not worry about this,” Lucius Radick’s voice came over the command channel, full of smug self-congratulation. “I have the situation well in hand.”
“Great,” Leeandra simply muttered to herself. “Would have rather had more Republicans.”
-
Guest Chapter by Zogster
Rain of Fire
Karnataka, India
Terra
Republic of the Sphere
T+12
From the cockpit of her Vulture Mk III, Tammy McLandsborough surveyed her battlefield. She had hand-picked a lance for the engagement who were spread out alongside her, standing on a rise above a densely wooded field. The advancing Wolf forces would have to punch their way through her position to reach the Republic Militia’s forward command base. It would not happen. Tammy had played through the battle a thousand times already, and knew every step to victory.
“Skye Three and Four, lock location and fire at will.” To her right, a Stalker and Crusader let loose with long-range missiles, her own Vulture quickly following suit. Their flights arced far over the terrain before diving down and vanishing amongst the trees. The three ‘Mechs adjusted and fired, again and again, saturating the distant ground with their munitions. Tammy watched her own ammunition counter as it dipped with alarming speed. She loved her machine’s artillery configuration for its straightforward nature which gave it surprising versatility, but its lack of ammunition could be a problem. Today, however, she needn’t worry.
“Gone dry,” Skye Three reported, his Stalker lowering its bulbous nose from the heavens. Moments later, the Crusader reported in the same. Tammy nodded and fired off her last flight of missiles. She glanced over at her situation map to see two vehicles trundling up to the lance.
“Skye additional, you’re up.” At her command, the ordinance transport and field support units got to work. Elaborate, spindly arms reached out of the field support vehicle, plucking missiles off the back of the transport with speed and precision. Bay doors opened at the rear of her Vulture Mk III, allowing access to the freshly emptied missile racks. Once their job was done, the pair trundled over to the awaiting Stalker, its own flanks opened and awaiting rearmament.
A new voice crackled into Tammy’s ear. “Skye Command, this is Skye Auxiliary.” The squad of Purifiers reported from far ahead in the forest, well out of sight of her lance. “Read incoming Wolf forces. Looks like a full Trinary moving together, although we do have an assault-class straggler.”
Bang on schedule, Tammy thought to herself. Coolly she replied “Affirmative, Skye Auxiliary. Fall back to Position Bravo and get ready to light them up.”
“Roger that,” came the Purifier’s curt response. Tammy glanced to her side, seeing that the Crusader had knelt to grant access to its massive missile drums. Reloading should be completed well within time. She checked to her left, confirming her final lancemate was moving his Galahad back from the ridge line.
“How’s it looking, Skye Two?” Tammy asked.
“Radar confirms Skye Auxiliary’s reports. No chance we’ll get visual on them for a long time,” Skye Two added.
“Or them on us,” Tammy said with a smile. “All units, prepare to fire on my mark.”
And they waited. The Purifiers reported themselves in position, concealed within the heavy forests. Soon enough they saw the spearhead of the Wolf forces poking through the trees. They waited, nerves shared with the rest of Tammy’s special detachment, for the perfect moment.
And it struck. A Mad Cat Mk IV picked its way through the trees at the head of the formation. Its clawed foot stomped into the underbrush and was met with a sudden detonation. Even as it staggered, the Purifiers painted it with their targeting lasers. “We have contact,” the squad commander eagerly reported.
“Skye Lance, bring the rain!” Tammy enthusiastically called out. Three BattleMechs immediately opened fire, darkening the sky with countless long-range missiles. They arced up and soared over the battlefield, adjusting their descents and converging on the staggered Mad Cat Mk IV. To its credit, the 'Mech’s advanced armour stood up well to the smothering flight of missiles, but it still collapsed as detonation after detonation rocked across its frame.
The Trinary following fell into disarray. A Linebacker backed away from the conflagration, only to find its feet falling on a cluster of pre-seeded munitions. Soon enough, another torrent of missiles rained on it from above. The ‘Mech did not fare as well as its commander, as secondary explosions tore up from within its frame, leaving it smoking and inert on the forest floor.
“Wolf formation is breaking up,” Skye Two reported. Watching the view from his radar, Tammy could see the blips spreading among the trees in a haphazard manner. She smiled in satisfaction as she saw more distant explosions, signalling enemy ‘Mechs blundering into more of the Thunder munitions they’d seeded amongst the trees. It would take them a while to realise just how trapped they were.
“All units, pick your targets and fire at will. Don’t go overboard,” she added, eyeing the support vehicles that were returning to her Vulture Mk III. “Don’t want to overwork our heroes.”
And so it went. The Purifiers danced amongst the trees, staying out of sight and painting their choice of targets, usually some unfortunate who had discovered another minefield. Skye Lance would fire on designated targets in turn, wearing them down while making sure their ammunition reserves stayed high. And of course, their support team was waiting to top them off and keep the battle going. A couple of times the Wolves tried to make a break for it, but found out that the minefield went deeper than expected and that the treetops were covered by Skye Two’s precision long-range fire. There was some return fire, but it was wild and blind, spraying missiles in their vague direction. Nothing came close.
Tammy allowed herself a small smile. It had taken her a while to recover from the disaster on Skye. She had played the battles over and over in her mind, wondering what had gone wrong, what she had failed to account for. But unlike those, this was going perfectly. The Wolf forces had moved exactly as she had planned. The minefield was running out, but it did its work perfectly in keeping them boxed in where the Purifiers could find them. As long as they could keep the missiles falling, victory was assured.
As the battle wore on, Tammy kept her eyes on the feed from Skye Two’s radar. Soon enough she saw the Wolf forces pulling together in the center of the danger zone, halting their costly explorations. She switched her comm line over to the Purifiers and asked, “Skye Auxiliary, what’s happening down there?”
“Not sure,” came the report. “They may be staging for a retreat, or-“
“Airborne incoming!” Skye Two’s alarmed shout cut in over their radios. Within seconds the sky was cut by the roar of engines. A pair of OmniFighters streaked overhead, moving at breakneck speed. The Galahad tried to track them, but simply could not turn fast enough to get a bead on them. Within moments they were gone, passed as if they had never been.
“What was that?” Skye Three muttered. Tammy furrowed her brow in concentration. What was the flight for, if not to attack them. Reconnaissance? Targeting? But the Wolf force didn’t have the armaments to take advantage of it from their position. Unless there was something she’d missed. Something from earlier reports. One of the enemy ‘Mechs…
“Scatter!” she yelled out, immediately kicking her Vulture Mk III into gear. Around her she could see the other BattleMechs of her lance spreading out. But the fire did not come for them. A pair of Arrow artillery missiles streaked down from above and impacted directly with the ordinance transport. The sky briefly burned orange as the transport and the massive pile of munitions it carried vanished into a titanic fireball.
“Report,” Tammy said, almost on automatic. She didn’t need to hear her lance’s confirmations, how low their munitions were, to know that the battle was over. In one strike, her ability to keep the enemy at bay had been lost. And while it would take them time to pick through the trees, they would inevitably overrun her.
“A Naga,” she heard, coming from the Purifiers. “That straggler was a Naga.”
Something she could never predict. “All forces, fall back. We’ve lost this one.”
-
Thick Brown Soup
Kaifeng, China District, Asia
Terra
Republic of the Sphere
T+24
For what seemed like the hundredth time in the last five days, Keyhan Beziz sat behind the controls of his Lament as the heavy BattleMech advanced along the reinforced road. Around him were other BattleMechs and vehicles, decked out in the distinctive black and gold colours of the Hastati Sentinels. On one side lay the thick, silt-laden waters of the Yellow River; in the distance on the other were low-lying residential and light industrial buildings, laid out on uniform square grids: a product of centuries of careful urban planning and management punctuated by short bursts of devastating warfare and reconstruction.
It was a cycle that he hoped would end today.
“Contact,” one of his scouts reported over the tactical network. “Looks like the same Beta Galaxy forces we’ve been skirmishing with for the last few days.”
“Understood,” Keyhan confirmed. “Good work. Pull back to us and we will engage.”
For the last four days, the two regiments of Task Force BLUE HERON had been skirmishing with two Wolf Galaxies around Kaifeng. Following the defeats they had suffered in the previous week, the Wolves had been unwilling to commit to a stand-up battle, and instead had engaged in probing attacks. Thus far, their efforts had yielded little more than whittling down their own numbers and wasting time.
Now it seemed that the Wolves were getting more aggressive. That suited Keyhan and the rest of BLUE HERON just fine; it simply meant that their enemy were now fighting on their terms.
A few minutes later the first hostile icons appeared on his tactical display; as expected, they were coming from the east in considerable numbers. “Alright men,” he simply ordered as his own forces closed in. “By the numbers. You know what to do.”
He dropped his sights onto the first Wolf ‘Mech to come into range; an aggressive-looking new heavy design that Republic intel had designated as Dominator. The assessment was that it was a mess of design flaws thrown together by somebody who had no idea what they were doing, but nonetheless it was still a potentially lethal weapon.
Not that he would give this one a chance to prove it.
Pushing his Lament forwards, Keyhan opened fire with the twin heavy particle projector cannons built into its arms. A wave of heat washed into the cockpit as the two weapons unleashed streams of hellish energies onto their target. The shots bore into the Dominator’s torso, slagging armour and sending the Wolf BattleMech staggering back a step.
Around him, members of the XIV Hastati Sentinels opened up on their own targets, acting with a combination of skill, discipline and coordination that would have even impressed the Clan warriors they were facing. BattleMechs and tanks sent volleys of long-range fire downrange into the enemy lines, many of them making their marks even at this range.
For their part, the Dominator pilot managed their best through the assault, squeezing off their own shots back at him in retaliation. A PPC went just wide of his ‘Mech, the shot instead obliterating a warehouse. A large laser had more luck, scoring armour off the Lament’s hip. The other Wolves joined in the fray, trading fire with their Republican counterparts.
Keyhan couldn’t help but see the difference between the two forces as he triggered another volley, ignoring the heat for the moment. Compared to the Hastati, the Wolves seemed to be far less disciplined in their approach, almost to the point of being rushed. While not reckless, they still were far more driven and less cautious then they had been for the last few days.
The Dominator staggered under another pair or blows, its right side opening up under the assault. Behind it, a Mad Cat crashed to the ground under a punishing volley of missile fire, while a Crossbow had lost an arm to the assault.
Nonetheless, they were determined to continue their attack. As wounded as it was, the Dominator fired again, this time both of its weapons making their mark. Keyhan’s Lament rocked under the assault, but remained standing.
If anything, that seemed to only encourage his enemy. The Dominator broke into a sprint, barreling towards him at a speed far faster than its size would have suggested that it was capable of. Keyhan could understand what the enemy pilot was doing, but he wasn’t going to let it happen.
Holding down the trigger, he unleashed his BattleMech’s entire arsenal on his opponent. The two heavy PPCs were joined by a trio of medium lasers, creating a tidal wave of heat that washed into the cockpit, battering him. The results were dramatic no less as the shots tore into the Dominator, shredding the BattleMech’s damaged right side, tearing its arm free from its body. His radical heat sink system kicked in, pushing a torrent of coolant through the Lament’s systems. Just as quickly as it had surged, the heat in the cockpit plummeted back to something resembling normality.
The Dominator’s counterstrike had been far less effective; while both its PPC and large laser had made their marks before being destroyed, they had still only scored fresh armour. And yet, for all that, the Wolf BattleMech had retained its footing.
It broke into a disjointed, lopsided run, off-balance due to the loss of the arm and most of its weaponry. A flight of short-range missiles flew from its side, several of which hit the Lament to almost no effect. Once again, Keyhan let fly with his entire arsenal in response, ignoring the heat warnings from his systems. PPC and laser fire slammed into the enemy BattleMech, sending it staggering back and then crashing to the ground, a burning hole torn straight though its chest.
It was all he could do to not cheer out.
Instead, as the Dominator went down, he flipped over to a special command circuit. “This is Knight Beziz,” he reported, more than a little eagerness in his voice.
“Status?” Bianka Messier replied, her own wariness a contrast to his expression.
“We have them on the ropes,” he continued. “They’re not going to escape-“ An incoming message signal caught his attention. “One moment.”
As soon as he switched over, he recognised the voice on the line. “This is Paladin Drummond to all forces,” she stated, her tone controlled and calm despite her message. “Pull back. Now.”
-----
If not for the chronometer on his Warwolf’s console, Lucius Radick would have no idea what time it was at all. For the last four days he and the rest of his unit had been slowly trudging through the Yellow River. Their movements had been agonizingly slow, as much for the hazards of what they were doing as the risks of revealing their presence.
That second factor had been the most important in determining their actions. Navigation was being handled through passive sensors alone – which, given how hard it was to see though the thick, brown soup of the river, made progress painfully slow. Communication was limited to short range, short burst, one-way transmissions that had a low chance of being intercepted while also reducing response times to a crawl.
The whole affair had been riddled with danger. More than one ‘Mech had been lost and deemed unrecoverable due to the combination of hazards. Sleep had been done in short shifts in order to keep warriors fresh for what was ahead. The cockpit of Lucius’ Warwolf had become a cramped, humid, dark cave, lit only by the illumination from its instruments, and he knew that he had it better off than most.
A short message from Star Colonel Don Cooper cut into the silence. “In position. Breach and engage.” That was the moment that he had been expecting for these last four days, but he remained patient no less. Instead, he quickly relayed the order to the rest of his Binary in a one-way burst that didn’t allow for acknowledgment. He simply had to rely on their discipline from here on out.
A twist on the controls saw the Warwolf change course, its movements still sluggish in the deep water. As it stepped forwards, the brown water of the river lightened, then gave way to the brilliance of the blue sky, a sight that seemed almost alien after four days in the depths.
And ahead of him lay the Republic forces.
Don Cooper’s Savage Coyote took the lead, the blocky BattleMech unleashing a hail of laser fire on its target. Lucius picked out his own man; a bright red Lament that stood out from the crowd. In one fluid movement, he dropped his sights onto the enemy ‘Mech, and opened fire.
Despite having been underwater for the last four days, his weapons responded perfectly. The Gauss rifle slammed into the Lament’s arm, smashing through its shoulder and crushing its weapons. A flight of long-range missiles scattered around its torso, further whittling away at what was clearly already damaged armour.
The Republican pilot managed to keep their footing under the assault and respond in kind, firing their remaining PPC. The shot flayed armour from the Warwolf’s left arm, a hit that made Lucius almost scoff in response.
Around him other Wolf ‘Mechs emerged from the water, a flood of grey, tan and white bearing down on the unsuspecting Republican forces. They unleashed a torrent of fire, shots scything into the enemy ranks. BattleMechs that had been already damaged by their engagement with the decoy forces withered under the assault, but managed to maintain their focus despite all that was being thrown at them.
Lucius continued to push forward, his Warwolf slowly advancing through the waist-deep water. Another Gauss rifle shot smashed into the Lament’s blocky torso, causing the ‘Mech to shudder but maintain its footing no less. However, rather than closing in to bring its remaining weapons to bear, the Lament began to backpedal, firing off its remaining PPC again. This time the shot tore into the Warwolf’s flank, shredding armour but not penetrating through it.
“They are retreating,” Don Cooper called out. “All units, press the attack.”
Lucius continued to push his Warwolf forwards, the BattleMech still slowed by the water around it. Giving of the slightest snarl of frustration, he fired again at the Lament while the ‘Mech continued its withdrawal. His Gauss rifle clipped its remaining arm, but did little damage, while his missiles scattered around its chest. Its return fire went wide, the PPC shot instead kicking up a cloud of steam as it struck the water.
Even then there was no mistaking the feeling underlying his frustration. The Republicans were on the run. This was a victory.
-
Log #25
Bianka Messier: Two Paladins dead, two of our best units shattered and the Wolves now advancing into central China. This is nothing short of unmitigated disaster.
Keyhan Beziz: I am sorry. I should have done more.
Messier: This is not your fault. There was nothing you could have done, given the circumstances.
Beziz: If Paladin Drummond hadn’t given us the order to retreat when she did…
Messier: I know.
Beziz: I don’t know how she saw that coming.
Erhan Fletcher: She was, after all, a Nova Cat at heart.
Messier: Nobody could have expected that the Wolves would try something that daring on such a large scale. Moving most of a Galaxy up the river like that could have gone wrong in so many different ways.
Beziz: But that’s the thing, isn’t it? The Wolves have so far been very good at pulling off risky and unexpected moves. And yet it works right for them every time.
Fletcher: Their leadership is decidedly un-Clanlike in their approach. If Alaric Ward was any less successful, he would have been branded dezgra long ago.
Beziz: If Thaddeus Marik had done the job on New Olympia then we wouldn’t be dealing with Alaric now.
Messier: If Thaddeus Marik hadn’t betrayed the Republic in the first place, then we probably wouldn’t be in this situation to begin with.
Fletcher: We cannot dwell on the past.
Messier: No, we can’t. Instead, we need to deal with this now. I’m open to analysis here.
Fletcher: The Wolves are pushing their men hard, even by their standards. While every Clan warrior prides themselves on their readiness and willingness to fight, their front-line Galaxies have been in action non-stop for the last four weeks now. That will be taking a toll on them, no matter what.
Beziz: And as effective as those front-line Galaxies have been, they are still suffering losses. They can replenish their ‘Mechs from repairs and salvage, but there’s only so much they can do for personnel losses.
Fletcher: So far, Iota Galaxy has seen very little action. Paladin Lakewood’s intelligence said that the Wolves were using it as a reserve unit for their front-line Galaxies, while keeping their abtahka separate.
Messier: That does seem to bear out from what we’ve seen and why Alpha and Beta especially seem to be constantly fresh. This is going to be hurting unit coherence, while the pressure they’re under is going to wear them down.
Beziz: Maybe we could use that. Focus on attrition warfare, keep grinding down the front-line units and deplete their reserves
Messier: I could send that to Vasilli and see what he thinks, but I feel that it’s sound.
Fletcher: Unfortunately, while he is still a Warrior, I doubt that Alaric would be willing to risk himself and his entire campaign in an honour duel.
Beziz: As nice an outcome as that would be, I agree. He’s not going to stake everything on a one-on-one fight.
Messier: He still does lead from the field. That does present opportunities no less.
Beziz: Vasilli again?
Messier: It’s an option that – [pause] – hold on, I’m getting a priority message from Geneva.
[pause]
Messier: The Jade Falcons have just made planetfall in Europe.
-
Raf Esquarra
Position/Rank: Captain
Affiliation/Unit: Republic of the Sphere
Birth Year: 3109
A Terran native, Raf Esquarra grew up with every advantage that the Republic’s Golden Age had to offer. Growing up in a well-to-do family, he had an excellent education where he excelled in mathematics and computer sciences. Despite the opportunities available to him, Raf chose to earn his citizenship through military service in the RAF. There he served as a communications technician, operating in both field and rear-echelon roles.
Following his time in service, Raf went to a prestigious Terran university where he put his skills to work. He developed a keen interest in the use of applied mathematics in encryption and coding, publishing several papers on the subject. Following the Blackout and the formation of Fortress Republic, Raf was approached by the Republic government, offering him the opportunity to work on a number of high-level projects. He eagerly agreed, driven as much by curiosity as his own desire to put his skills to work.
Much of his work went into decrypting encoded data recovered from outside the walls of Fortress Republic, helping the RAF to gain key insights into their enemies. He also worked in decoding data recovered from the destruction of the ComGuards, helping to uncover some of the secrets they had been hiding from the Republic. With the threat of invasion of Terra itself becoming a distinct possibility, he has begun his own pet projects to secure his own work and other materials against falling into hostile hands.
While he has had basic field training, Raf is no soldier and he knows it. While he has engaged in field operations in past, they were usually with heavy escorts and away from the actual fighting.
Guest character by KayEmm
Pierce Icaza
Position/Rank: Star Captain
Affiliation/Unit: Clan Jade Falcon/Delta Galaxy
Birth Year: 3125
Created from a mix of a long-standing Icaza bloodline and a captured Cobb one, Pierce Icaza lived up to expectations from the moment he was decanted. One of the largest and strongest member of his Sibko, he excelled in his training, proving to be both adept and resilient in the face of his often harsh and demanding training. He graduated through his trial of position as a Star Commander, a position born as much from his capabilities as his careful planning.
Pierce saw his first combat during the Falcons’ surge into the Lyran Commonwealth. Fighting on numerous worlds, he and his Elemental point would be key to a number of victories over their various enemies. Far from being reckless, he specialised in careful attacks on key targets and staging ambushes from cover. One of his preferred tactics was to pick out slow-moving Lyran assault ‘Mechs and target them for anti-‘Mech or swarm attacks to further isolate them.
Due to his successes, he was nominated for his Bloodname, winning it after a series of battles where he was careful not to kill or excessively harm his opponents. While understanding the central place of BattleMechs in the Jade Falcon tourman, Pierce has been a strong advocate for expanding combined-arms tactics and better integration of conventional units. While the alliance with the Hells’ Horses may be over, he feels that there are lessons to be learned from that Clan.
While the leaders of different trinaries, he often works closely with Star Captain Kia Malthus, with the two supporting each other in the field. He also has developed an interest in swordsmanship from working with her, and has become a regular sparring partner.
Griff Heller
Position/Rank: Star Commander
Affiliation/Unit: Clan Wolf/Beta Galaxy
Birth Year: 3123
The Heller Bloodhouse is only a minor one, with only a handful of Bloodnamed warriors among the Clans. That it is split between the Wolves and the Hells’ Horses only serves to further diminish its standing and prestige. Despite these setbacks, Griff Heller is determined to not only excel as a warrior, but to expand the influence of his House.
Decanted in the old Wolf Occupation Zone, Griff was too young to see action during the operation HAMMERFALL invasion of the Marik-Stewart commonwealth. Instead, he would be pressed into service during the invasion of the Lyran Commonwealth, following the formation of the Wolf Empire. While still inexperienced, Griff quickly proved himself in battle against the Lyran forces. Not only was he promoted for his actions, he also was transferred into the prestigious Beta Galaxy despite his relative youth.
In 3147, Griff was nominated for the Heller Bloodname. His success in the competition was as much due to his own skills and training as it was the simple lack of opponents. While he was successful, he also was disappointed to see just how diminished the Heller Bloodhouse had become in terms of numbers and influence. That he was then passed over for promotion in favour of a Bloodnamed warrior from a more prominent Bloodhouse only served to underscore the point.
While Griff is fanatically loyal to the Clan, he also feels frustrated by the complex politics of the Bloodnamed around him. He feels that he is unlikely to go any further due to his Bloodname, which has given him the drive to outperform his rivals on the battlefield. While he drives his Elemental star hard, he also has so far achieved excellent results.
-
Guest character by KayEmm
Tan Yo-Han
Position/Rank: Lieutenant
Affiliation/Unit: Mercenary/Red Right Hand
Birth Year: 3113
Born in the Capellan Confederation, Tan Yo-Han enlisted in the armed forces out of a sense of patriotic duty. Enrolled in the Sarna Martial Academy just before the Blackout, he was a promising student that had been directed towards Battle Armour training due to both his physical prowess and tactical acumen. Many had expected him to go far, but he was not ready for an unexpected twist.
Tan’s father was arrested for having Republic sympathies, casting suspicion over the rest of his family. Fearing for his life, Tan fled the academy and the Confederation as a whole, using the chaos of the Blackout to cover his escape. Initially having no real plan, he eventually settled on choosing to become a mercenary, feeling that it would be the only good way to employ his skills. Making his way to Galatea, Tan worked for several different units as both a conventional infantryman and then later a Battle Armour trooper before being headhunted by the Red Right Hand.
As a member of the unit, Tan’s role is equal parts scout, infiltrator, ambusher and headhunter. His team are often employed to take out certain objectives in discrete operations, often swaying the course of a battle before it has even started. When employed directly against enemy forces, he will try to locate and eliminate key enemy commanders or other high-value assets.
Tan holds no loyalty to the nation of his birth, and has so far displayed no reluctance to act against Capellan targets. He does, however, find it amusingly ironic that he is using a Battle Armour built in the Federated Suns.
Guest character by KayEmm
Naja Beniko
Position/Rank: Lieutenant
Affiliation/Unit: Republic of the Sphere
Birth Year: 3113
With her slight build, Naja Beniko does not fit the image usually associated with Battle Armor troopers; in fact, she only barely reached the minimums for a training program. Despite that, she is a capable and canny warrior who’s determination is only matched by her loyalty to the Republic.
Like many, Naja enlisted in the RAF as a way to earn her citizenship. At first, her plan was to simply serve a single tour of duty before turning her interests elsewhere, but fate had other ideas in store. Naja’s training was interrupted by the HPG Blackout, and the subsequent rise of factionalism and infighting within the Republic. As soon as she had graduated, she was fighting to help preserve her home nation from its enemies, both without and within.
Her unit fought in the first and second Jade Falcon invasions of Skye, facing off against the full force of an invading Clan. Seeing the battle from the ground not only made Naja even more determined in her loyalty to her homeland, but also gave her a deep hatred for the Clans. Not only was this aimed at the Jade Falcons for their merciless assault, but also at the Steel Wolves who, despite their assistance, she saw as little more then opportunists who had turned their back on the Republic.
Naja’s unit was among those that were within the Republic when the Fortress walls went up. Understanding the logic of the move, she instead focused herself on training and preparing for what would come next. Her experience and talent saw her selected by Knight Tariku Noab Adani to be a part of a special unit, codenamed Sunstorm, that was trained in anti-Clan tactics.
-
Guest Chapter by KayEmm
Deep Breaths
T+25
DropShip CJF Emerald Eclipse
Inbound, Europe
Terra
Republic of the Sphere
Breathe.
That was all Kia Malthus could think as the DropShip plummeted through the atmosphere. Strapped into her BattleMech, which was in turn secured in place, there was little else that she could do right now.
Any number of things could happen. They could land in a minefield, or the middle of an RAF ambush, with armies of superheavy tripods waiting to tear apart whatever force came down. Or the Wolves could go back on their word and attack the Falcon force as they landed. Or the Republic could resort to the same tactics that the Usurper and the Blakists used to defend humanity’s home and throw nuclear missiles at all involved. Or whatever mechanisms that had made Fortress Republic possible could backfire, causing all of space to collapse in on itself in one superdense singularity. Or-
No.
She pushed such thoughts out of her mind. I am Jade Falcon. I fear nothing. This is our destiny, to claim Terra and become the ilClan. Nobody can stop us; not the Wolves nor the Republic.
This is the pinnacle of all I have fought for. All that I am. My entire existence has been for this moment.
Another unbidden thought entered her mind. I wish you could have been here, Ame. And then just as quickly, it was gone in a hail of warning klaxons. Moments later, there was a jarring thud as the ship touched down, its legs sinking into the soil of sacred Terra.
The bay doors opened, with glorious sunlight streaming into the cavernous interior – but nothing else. No hail of weapons fire, no nuclear apocalypse or anything else. Instead, there was a loud hiss and clank as her BattleMech was freed from its moorings, accompanied by an all-clear warning from the bay technicians.
Kia opened her throttle, moving her Jade Phoenix into a careful walk down the bay ramp. One final step saw it place its feet on the ground, stepping onto that same sacred soil. Around her was a pleasant vista; green fields, rolling hills and distant forests, punctuated only by the massive forms of the Jade Falcon DropShips gathered on the plains.
A clutch of green eggs, hatching deadly birds.
“Star Captain Kia Malthus to all units,” she called out over her command channel, her voice crisp and clear. “For up on me and await orders.” A chorus of affirmative replies confirmed that her Trinary were all present, ready and eager to go.
There was a small clunk as an Elemental jumped up on her BattleMech’s shoulder. She didn’t even need to look to know who it was.
“Your thoughts?” Pierce Icaza asked.
“It is beautiful,” she simply replied.
“It is ours,” he returned.
That bought a chuckle to her lips, dispersing any lingering concerns. “Then let us make it so.”
-
Capitol City
Interviewer: You were a part of the force that attacked Geneva, correct?
Asrynn Pryde: Aff. I was a part of Epsilon Galaxy, who led the charge into the city.
Interviewer: How did you find the battle?
Pryde: It was a challenge, to say the least. The Republic forces were heavily dug in, and were using the fortifications of the redoubt to protect themselves from our advance. And, of course, they were fighting for their world, their nation and their lives. They had everything to lose, and they knew it.
Interviewer: How did you fare in those early days?
Pryde: My Trinary used their mobility to counter those advantages. We would leap over walls, strike at the Republic forces and then keep moving before they could bog us down. The Republic were of course doing everything to stop us.
Interviewer: And were they successful?
Pryde: (laughs) Well I am alive, aff? Do not get me wrong, they did slow our advance. I had to push my Jade Hawk hard for each kill. I burned through missiles at a prodigious rate, and made ample use of physical attacks to finish off my foes. It was a challenge, but I relished it.
Interviewer: There are those that say that Geneva was a trap, and that the Falcons wasted time against the city.
Pryde: It was well defended, aye, and it took far longer to fall than expected. However, I would hardly call it a waste of time. After all, it was the capitol of Terra and the Republic. It was a vital strategic target, one that either of our Clans would have had to take either way. We simply chose to take it first.
Interviewer: But it did take weeks to fall, and cost your Clan in terms of men and material.
Pryde: Aff, and again I would not argue that point. After all, it was the most heavily defended and fortified city on the planet. And we would not be the first Clan to have struggled with fortified defenses.
Interviewer: And what about your Clan’s use of orbital bombardment against Geneva?
Pryde: What about it?
Interviewer: Many would consider it to be dishonourable.
Pryde: Is it any more so than the Wolves using saturation artillery or aerospace strikes against other cities?
Interviewer: Well-
Pryde: Or is it simply a case of where if the Wolves do something, it is a cunning tactic, yet if the Falcons did it, it’s an atrocity, quiaff?
Interviewer: The Mongol doctrine advocated for total warfare, regardless of casualties.
Pryde: Aff. And it worked.
Interviewer: Surely the Jade Falcons’ defeat would have suggested otherwise.
Pryde: Ah, yes, the reductive view. The Mongol doctrine failed. Anyone who followed it was bad, wrong and stupid. That is what you mean, aff?
Interviewer: Well, no, but-
Pryde: I am not so blind as to be unable to read between the lines, freebirth.
Interviewer: That as not the intent-
Pryde: Consider this, freebirth. Under the Mongol doctrine, our Clan expanded swiftly. In the space of only a few years, Malvina Hazen conquered more worlds than any other Clan leader had before her, building an occupation zone that stretched from the Periphery to the gates of Terra, and stabbed into the heart of the Commonwealth. The Mongol doctrine carried those successes forward.
Interviewer: And yet you were defeated.
Pryde: Aff. But that was not due to any failure of the Mongol doctrine. It was simply because the Wolves were so cowardly as to bring in dezgra mercenaries to fight their battles for them.
-
Guest Chapter by KayEmm
After-Action Report: Geneva
Lady Messier,
I know that things have not gone as intended. The arrival of the Jade Falcons was unexpected; likewise, the fact that they and the Wolves are maintaining a ceasefire and instead focusing their combined efforts on our forces was also not a scenario that we had considered. My discussions with Knight Fletcher suggested that it would be the last thing that both Clans would do, especially given the enmity between their leaders.
Nonetheless, we have adapted as best we can. The Falcon assault on Redoubt Geneva shoes that, despite the situation, they are acting in a manner consistent with their past behaviours. Given the sheer numbers committed to the assault, I predict that the city will fall; however, I also know that we can make that victory as costly for them as possible.
While I have submitted a full report on my actions to RAF Command, I felt that you would appreciate a summary. You will be pleased to know that Sunstorm Company performed better than I had possibly hoped for during our engagements with the Jade Falcon forces. Years of training in Clan tactics and how to counter them, as well as knowing the mindset of our enemies, served us well. Again, I must thank Knight Fletcher for his insight.
We focused most of our efforts on Gamma Galaxy, engaging in fast hit and fade actions against the Falcon forces. While the abundance of jump-capable BattleMechs within their forces did make disengagements harder than we had hoped for, we still managed to break away on each occasion rather than become bogged down or allow the Falcons to regroup. And while we have suffered losses, so far we have managed to keep the balance in our favor.
I must commend Lieutenant Naja Beniko on her actions, as her platoon have been vital to our success. Their excellent use of guerrilla tactics, scouting and anti-'Mech attacks have been invaluable to our operations, and made our force seem to be far more of a threat than they are.
I must draw your attention to one incident, however; the closest we have come to defeat so far. Sunstorm was probing Delta Galaxy’s forces to try to ascertain their disposition. As yet, the Galaxy has only been employed in probing actions and not yet been committed to the assault , leaving me concerned as to what their intent was. What we found was found was a fresh formation that were clearly ready to fight but had not yet been given the opportunity.
Unfortunately, they proved to be far more canny than expected. We launched an initial probe that faced only light resistance. Seeing an opening, I pushed further to exploit the situation. However, this proved to be a trap; Sunstorm was drawn into an engagement wit a heavier Falcon Trinary that made their best efforts to flank us and cut us off. Sadly, we suffered several losses before we were able to disengage, aided by a timely artillery barrage from the 122nd.
While this attack as a failure, it was not without benefit. We gathered considerable field intel on the state of the Falcon forces around Geneva and their deployments, which showed a notable gap in their employment of Delta Galaxy. I feel that there may be a division within their ranks that we can exploit.
And, if nothing else, I have first-hand footage of the Jade Phoenix in action. Given how little we have seen of this OmniMech so far, I know that it will prove useful.
For the Republic
Knight Tariku Noab Adani
-
Northern Exposure
T+35
DropShip WCS Aardwulf
Over the Bering Strait
Terra
Republic of the Sphere
The first indication that Leeandra Connors had that anything was going wrong was the alarms ringing throughout the ship. The second was the entire ship rocking under some impact.
Strapped into her BattleMech which was, in turn, strapped into its loading cradle, there was little she could do about any of these matters beyond wait for further instruction. She didn’t have long to wait either; a moment later, the captain’s voice crackled over the communicator. “All units, prepare for emergency drop.” She couldn’t help but tense at the sound, noting the urgency in his tone.
That was all she had time for as well; a moment later, her Arctic Wolf II shuddered as it was moved to the launch bay. And then, with only the slightest of warnings, it was released, plummeting from the ship towards the earth below.
Once she was outside she had no more idea of what was going on than before. She fell into a night sky, with gusts of snow around her BattleMech serving to only further confuse the situation. Through all of that, she could make out bits and pieces; the flare of DropShip engines, the flash of weapons and the odd distant explosion.
Sensors told her about her position and those of the rest of her Star, but that was about it. The communications were a mess, with numerous voices calling out for orders or to simply ask what was going on. That is not going to help, she grunted to herself as she closed the channel, simply focusing on what was going on around her and trying to keep her Binary together.
She fired her jump jets, slowing her BattleMech as it approached the surface, fighting both gravity and the wind. The Arctic Wolf came down less gracefully than she would have liked, scrambling for purchase on snow-covered rock. Fighting her machine every step of the way, Leeandra managed to keep it upright and functional against everything else before gaining its footing. “All units, report in,” she shouted, doing her best to stay calm in the face of an unknown situation.
A series of replies came in from her star; two reports of minor damage from the drop, but otherwise all clear. After that, however, was silence. “Star Commander Cliff Wallace, report,” she snapped, but again got nothing.
“We lost contact with him coming down,” a voice replied back.
Freebirth, she mentally snapped. “All units, form up on me. We need to find the other survivors.”
-----
From the cockpit of their Awesome, Jarrie Scire watched the situation unfold. The Wolf DropShips had flown straight into the Roughriders’ anti-air defenses, and were now paying the price for their brazen move. Several ships had already gone down, while others were hit and being forced to jettison their payloads across the Alaskan wilderness. Those Wolves that had made it down were scattered, disorganised and ripe for the taking.
“All units, on me,” they ordered, pushing their BattleMech forward. The lumbering machine trudged through the snow, its sheer bulk enough to simply ignore the weather and conditions around it. Other BattleMechs and tanks formed up around them, advancing in a grim march. You bastards killed a lot of good people in Australia, Jarrie considered. Time to even the score.
Sensors identified several enemy BattleMechs ahead, moving slowly and likely still disorganized after their chaotic drop. Jarrie was not going to give them a chance either as they continued their advance. Lining up a Mad Cat in their sights, they let loose a volley of fire at the Wolf machine. For an instant, night turned into day as the Awesome’s three heavy PPCs let loose terrific energies, slamming into their target. A wave of heat rolled into the cockpit, Jarrie simply shrugging it off as the Awesome’s cooling system, as well as the freezing air around them quickly dissipated it.
Before the Mad Cat could do anything else, other members of Jarrie’s unit added their own fire to the mix. The Wolf OmniMech simply collapsed under the fire, while the other ‘Mechs around it did their best to rally. A Crossbow replied first, sending a scattering of long-range missiles at the Awesome. Jarrie all but shrugged off the impacts, continuing to advance on the Wolf force.
The Crossbow reeled as a Catapult and Challenger tank assaulted it with Gauss and missile fire, pummeling the heavy OmniMech. As it stumbled, a Man O’ War stepped up to respond with autocannon fire, shots striking the Awesome’s side. The shots did little more than lightly worry the armour, Jarrie all but ignoring it as they continued to push forwards.
They opened fire, letting another volley of PPCs loose on the barrel-chested OmniMech. The shots slammed into its hull, tearing away three tons of armour in a single assault. While wounded, the Wolf OmniMech managed to retain its footing, as if in defiance of their advance. More autocannon and laser fire came back in reply, scoring into the Awesome’s hull, shaking the ‘Mech, but not doing enough to stop its advance.
A Gauss rifle round slammed into the Catapult, smashing apart one of its boxy missile launchers. Other shots tore into the Roughriders’ lines, punishing their ranks but doing little to stop them. “Keep pushing,” Jarrie simply ordered. “Run these bastards down.”
Another triple PPC volley bored into the Man O’ War, tearing through the last of its torso armour before devouring the components within. As it staggered back, the Clan ‘Mech replied with a desperate volley of fire, its shots tearing into the Awesome’s hull. Jarrie spared the damage display only the slightest of glances before continuing their advance.
The Man O’ War was not so lucky, being speared through its ruined chest by another volley of fire. Reeling from the attack, it managed a half-step before collapsing back into the snow.
As it went down, a Warwolf stepped up, opening fire on Jarrie’s advancing BattleMech. A Gauss rifle shot slammed into the Awesome’s side, smashing through the last of the armour before shattering a heat sink inside. Jarrie’s response was to simply continue their advance, rippling off another volley of PPC fire at the next available target.
Doesn’t matter if we live or die, they considered. Just how many of those freaks we take down with us.
-----
About the only good sign Leenadra had seen since her Binary touched down was finding Star Commander Griff Heller. His Elementals had been scattered in the emergency drop, but he had managed to pull together two Points of troops so far. Now his Rache suits were riding on her OmniMechs as they advanced through the snowy night.
“I have something,” Ed called out over the command channel, his usual flippancy replaced with a certain urgency. “Fragmentary Wolf signals, bearing three-three-zero.”
“Better than nothing,” she replied. “Lead the way.” She had no idea where the rest of the Cluster were, let alone the rest of Beta Galaxy after their emergency drop. Supposedly, the rest of Theta Galaxy were also out there, but she had no found no trace of them either.
Their advance was slower than she liked. As capable as BattleMechs were, the combination of the broken, rocky terrain and the lack of visibility was still enough to hamper their advance, especially given how few of her Binary were equipped with jump jets. As tempting as it was for her to take those that were jump capable and push ahead, the risk of further separating their units was too great.
After what felt like ages, Ed reported contacts ahead. A moment later, her display began to light up with contacts, both friendlies and unknown. And whoever they are, they need our help, she immediately assessed.
“Bloodseekers!” she called out over her command channel. “Run these freebirths down!”
Putting caution aside, she pushed her Arctic Wolf II forwards towards the ongoing battle, the rest of her Binary in her wake. Their targets, while aware of her presence, were also still engaged, making them slow to respond. Members of her unit opened up around her, their shots tearing into the enemy lines.
She locked a Challenger tank into the center of her sights, waiting only a moment before getting a lock-on tone. Squeezing the trigger, she sent four flights of Streak SRMs flying at the enemy tank. The missiles peppered its hull, shattering armour as well as pummeling its treads.
Damaged but by no means disabled, the Challenger bought around its turret to track her. Leenadra violently jinked her ‘Mech to the right as it opened up, desperate to avoid the tank’s devastating fire. A Gauss rifle round went wide, while a cluster of smaller shots peppered her Arctic Wolf’s hull. Seeing only minimal damage, she pushed onward.
As soon has her missiles had recycled, she unleashed a second volley at the damaged Challenger. This flight captalised on the first, tearing into the already damaged armour and slamming into its structure. As she continued to move, the tank didn’t turn its turret to follow her, suggesting that it had been damaged. Lucky break. Between the damaged turret and treads, it wouldn’t be going anywhere, leaving her free to seek other prey.
She fired her jump jets, vaulting over the enemy line while getting a better look at the situation. A group of BattleMechs and heavy tanks were bearing down on a Wolf force, pushing them hard. Two of the Wolf ‘Mechs were already down, while the others were not faring well under the assault. Time to even things up a little.
No sooner had she landed then Leeandra had broken into a run, looking for her next target. A damaged Catapult provided that opportunity, its wounded flank open to her. Another volley of missiles took advantage of its wounds, sending it staggering and wavering on its bird-like legs.
Leenadra had little time to celebrate her success, as her Arctic Wolf was rocked by a series of hits that reverberated through the cockpit. Glancing around she saw the source of the assault, a Mantuffel tank that was tracking her with its turret-mounted autocannon. Not willing to give it a second shot, she took off again, putting the Catapult between it and her.
Another pair of BattleMechs came into her sights. One was a blocky Awesome, the lumbering machine standing over the husk of a downed Gargoyle. The second was the slender form of a Warwolf, battered but still standing. Is that…
“So good of you to join us, Star Captain,” crackled a voice over her communicator. She immediately knew who it was. Lucius Radick, she all but spat. Acting like he had the situation in hand as well. Would not even spare a thank you if his life depended on it.
She said nothing in reply, instead focusing her attention on the Awesome, her goal as much about saving her fellow officer as it was proving that she was the better warrior. A flight of SRMs battered the assault BattleMech’s side and rear, but seemed to do little other then lightly annoy it.
In response, the Awesome turned to face her, opening fire with its trio of particle cannons. One of them hit home, all but vaporising the Arctic Wolf’s right arm. Thrown by the sudden loss of mass, Leeandra had to fight the controls to keep her BattleMech upright.
Lucius took the opportunity to open up on the Awesome, a combination of Gauss rifle and missiles hitting the assault ‘Mech. However, that only seemed to further annoy it.
Pushing her BattleMech, Leeandra moved to loop around her opponent and keep them on the back foot. Instead an alarm interrupted her focus for a moment followed by the impacts of a flight of missiles. Glancing back, she could see the Catapult behind her, the damaged but still standing.
Do these guys ever give up? she asked as she turned around to unleash another volley on it in reply. Only half of her missiles achieved locks, doing little more than peppering its undamaged side. Glancing around she could see members of both binaries tangled up in the enemy forces; from what she could gather, whoever these enemies were did not seem concerned about the damage they were taking, only what they could dish out.
“This is Star Colonel Don Cooper to all units,” the voice crackled over the command channel; clearly authoritative despite all the interference. “Disengage and pull back to grid Echo-Five.”
“Star Colonel,” Leeandra shot back. “We are engaged with enemy forces. We can take them.” There was an anger to her tone, born both of the frustration of what had happened and her eagerness to release it.
“Neg, Star Captain,” he growled. “We must regroup. The Khan is missing.”
Anything she would have said back to that died in her throat. The best she could manage was a weak “Aff.”
-
T+36
Rally Point Beta, outside of Anchorage, Alaska
Terra
Republic of the Sphere
The rally point had turned out to be little more than an old warehouse complex where the Cluster had managed to come together with some degree of coherence. As she approached, Leandra was getting a good idea of the losses that the Cluster had suffered so far. While her Binary had lost a single ‘Mech, so far there had been no trace of Star Commander Cliff Wallace and he had to be assumed dead. Every other ‘Mech, her own included, had some degree of damage.
Even then, she knew that they had gotten off better then others. The Nineteenth Wolf Striker had suffered severe losses already to the point that it might no longer be combat effective. The Eleventh were simply missing.
“This is Star Colonel Don Cooper,” the voice of their commander cut over the command channel. “I need status reports of your units immediately.”
Without even thinking, Leeandra collected what she could from her Binary and sent off a summary. Save for the missing Star Commander Cliff Wallace, most of it was armour damage and ammunition expenditure. Her own missing arm was about the worst of it. And then all she could do was wait.
She took the chance to breathe for a moment. We really did not need this right now, she considered as she rubbed her face tiredly before taking a swing from her water bottle. Beta Galaxy had been leading the Wolf assault since the moment they had touched down, scoring an impressive string of victories over the Republic. But all that pressure was taking a toll.
Leeandra could not begin to think when was the last time she got a full night’s sleep. Her unit were constantly on the move and constantly engaged. Even if they had not been forced into this confrontation, she imagined that they would have been fighting as soon as they touched down anyway.
The shaved side of her head itched. She wanted to scratch it, but her neurohelmet was in the way. I have not even had a chance to shave it recently, she considered. It is probably a scruffy mess by now.
Then she chortled. At least I saved Lucius’ posterior this time. Maybe that will shut him up. It felt petty, but right now she would take that. Given the present situation, she did no have much else.
A signal from her communicator snapped her out of her train of thoughts. Answering the message, her heads-up display lit up with the faces of Don Cooper, Lucius Radick and the Thirteenth’s other Star Captains. Leeandra couldn’t help but notice the absence of Ken Fetladral, and that Griff Heller was taking his place. Another sign of just how bad their losses were.
“As of this moment, Khan Alaric Ward is missing,” the Star Colonel began. “We do not know if he is dead, but so far, none of us have been able to raise him. As such, we must assume the worst.” He paused, letting the words sink in.
“But this is not the end of our campaign,” he continued, an angry note in his voice. “The Khan would not want us to give up. He would not want us to roll over to a bunch of dezgra mercenaries, not when the stakes are so high. He would want us to continue to fight to claim Terra for the Clan, so that we, the children of Kerensky, could claim our destiny as the ilClan.”
“If our Khan is dead, then let not his death be in vain. We will avenge his loss, as we avenged those of us who fell on the battlefields of Vietnam. We shall find those who sought to stop us, and visit our own vengeance upon them.” He paused a moment.
“Are you with me, quiaff?”
The enthusiastic round of affs in reply said more than anything else could.
-----
After their earlier withdrawal, the Wolves had regrouped and then surged with a renewed ferocity. The Roughriders had their backs quite literally to the wall. And yet, Jarrie Scire did not care. They stood their ground, their Awesome seemingly immobile in the face of the oncoming force. Despite their scope being filled with hostile contacts, they were not afraid.
They hammered the trigger, unleashing a trio of PPC shots at an incoming target. Three brilliant blue bolts slammed into an oncoming Vulture, sending the bird-like BattleMech reeling. As it staggered back, a flight of LRMs further pummeled it, sending it crashing down into the snow.
No sooner had it collapsed then a Warwolf took its place, the lupine BattleMech pushing forwards. Missiles slammed into the Awesome’s hull, followed by a shot from a Gauss rifle that slammed into the arm. Despite the punishment, the Battlemech remained standing.
After sparing only the briefest glance to the damage display, they responded with a volley of their own, giving back better then they got. While one of the PPCs went wide, the other two slammed into the Wolf BattleMech. More missiles sailed towards it as well, only to be swatted out of the sky by its laser anti-missile system.
Around them, other Roughriders were engaged with the Wolf forces. A Warhammer savaged a Puma with PPC fire. A Savage Coyote carved up a Mantueffel with its lasers. Battle Armour ran around the conflict on both sides, seeking opportunities to exploit. While the Roughriders were still standing, there was no misunderstanding the situation. They were being pushed back, and had nowhere to run.
Explosions wreathed the Mad Cat III next to them as it was savaged by a swarm of missiles. One of them must have struck its ammunition, as a moment later, a larger explosion tore through its side, sending one weapon arm flying off into the night while the rest of the BattleMech crashed to the ground.
Nearby, Jarrie could see the likely attacker, a one-armed Arctic Wolf II. Gotta be the same one I met earlier, they considered. Can’t be too many of those with the Wolves, and even less with one arm. They took a half-step backwards, pivoting the Awesome as the Arctic Wolf advanced, at the same time keeping an eye on the Warwolf. So let’s see what you got.
As expected, the Arctic Wolf charged forwards, bounding towards the Awesome. A warning tone told Jarrie of a weapons lock, moments before a swarm of missiles pummeled into their armour. The assault ‘Mech rocked under the impacts, with Jarrie gritting their teeth as they did their best to ride out the attack.
A moment later, the Awesome shook again as a Gauss rifle shot slammed into its knee. “Guess your honour only goes so far,” they grunted as they glanced at the Warwolf. “Or maybe I just don’t deserve it.”
The Arctic Wolf tried to duck to one side, its MechWarrior looking for an opening in the Roughriders’ lines that they could better exploit. “No you don’t,” Jarrie snapped, taking as quick a sidestep with the Awesome as it could manage. Realising what they were doing, the Arctic Wolf locked them up for another volley in order to clear the roadblock that it presented.
More missiles slammed into the Awesome, eating into its already degraded armour. Several red lights went off on the system board, but Jarrie simply ignored then as they returned fire. The trio of heavy PPCs lashed out at the Clan BattleMech with dramatic effect. Two of them smashed into one leg, all but destroying the limb. The third slammed into its side, helping to drive it down.
A shot from the Warwolf rocked the Awesome, smashing through the left arm and snapping the metal bones within. Missiles followed through, further eroding already depleted armor. Ignoring the damage, Jarrie twisted to face their attacker as their ‘Mech continued to advance, heading towards the downed Artic Wolf.
Another trio of PPCs lit up the night as they lashed out at the offending Warwolf. Two of them struck home, scorching its armour but failing to slow it down. The return fire punctured through the Awesome’s side, setting off more warning alarms, but Jarrie continued to ignore them. Not like I have anywhere to go now anyway. A glance at their tactical display showed the situation being repeated across the members of their company that were still active. They were damaged, and were literally backed into a wall.
The Warwolf readied itself for another volley, only to be instead struck from the side by a burst of laser fire. Around it, other Wolf ‘Mechs were coming under attack from the flanks, splitting their attention between the Roughriders and this new force emerging from the darkness. A group of camouflaged BattleMechs and other units were only barely visible as they emerged from the darkness, sowing confusion among the Wolf ranks.
Using the chance, Jarrie again pummeled the Warwolf with the Awesome’s arsenal. The slender Wolf ‘Mech wilted, one of its missile launchers evaporating under the fire. Despite the confusion, its pilot managed to give back as good as they gave, with a Gauss shot penetrating the Awesome’s side, crushing one of its PPCs.
“Command to all units,” the Colonel’s gruff voice came over the command channel. “We have an opening. Pull back now.”
“Roger that,” Jarrie scowled as they managed to wheel around their damaged BattleMech, while signaling for the rest of their force to do the same. Pulling back, they stepped past the hulks of several BattleMechs, both Wolf and Roughrider alike. However, one was enough to give them pause; the Arctic Wolf that they had disabled earlier.
Stopping a moment, Jarrie twisted the controls, the Awesome smashing its blocky foot into the downed BattleMech’s side. What was left of its flank collapsed as the impact drove through the already damaged structure. “And that’s for the good men you bastards killed in Sydney,” Jarrie simply added as they turned away.
-
Log #37
Bianka Messier: I suppose that was about as good as we could have hoped for, all things considered.
Erzhan Fletcher: One of Beta’s Clusters was destroyed, the others were bled.
Messier: Don’t get me wrong; we are wearing them down. Beta must be running on empty by now, and they have to be deep into reserves. But at the same time, the loss rate is still favouring them.
Keyhan Beziz: And their leadership is still functional.
Messier: Damned Alaric Ward. The man has more lives then a cat.
Fletcher: He is Clan; he did not get to where he is today without having the skills to fight for and take it, after all.
Beziz: He’s easily the most effective Wolf leader since Ulric Kerensky. Low bar to clear, I know, but it has to be said.
Messier: Oh, I do agree, and I hate him for it. But at the same time…
Fletcher: Yes?
Messier: It reminds me, of all things, of my great-grandmother. I read her journals, and one thing stood out about them. She should have been dead many, many times over.
Beziz: So what are you saying?
Messier: Dumb luck is always going to be a factor, one that we can never account for.
Fletcher: Aff. What do we do now?
Messier: Now we need to consider our options.
[pause]
Beziz: Out of curiosity, what happened to your great-grandmother?
Messier: She retired and lived to be ninety-five.
-
Dancing on the Grave
T+35
Unity City, North America
Terra
Republic of the Sphere
Lucius Radick took a deep breath as he looked around him. Massive towers soared overhead, many of them still battered from damage suffered nearly four centuries ago. Others were wholly or partially collapsed, left where they had fallen with no effort to restore them or clean them up. And all of them were empty, little more than shells of a long-lost past.
Despite all that, he could not help but feel humbled.
“Think about it,” he spoke out loud. “We are here, on sacred Terra, standing at the heart of the Star League. For generations, Clan warriors have dreamed of this moment. But we have made this happen.”
“Aff,” Leeandra Connors replied with a nod. She had managed to escape the brutal destruction of her Arctic Wolf surprisingly unharmed, almost frustratingly so. Save for a few field dressings, she looked no worse for the wear. “It is impressive. And I did not ever think I would see this.”
And even then, he did not feel the need to hold that over her as a way to score cheap points in their ongoing rivalry. This moment, he had realised, was far bigger than the pair of them.
“Just think,” he continued, “had you not chosen to join us, you would not be here for this moment in this sacred place.”
“Aff,” she repeated. “I would still be a Lyran lap-dog living off table scraps.” The distaste crawled into her voice as she spoke. “No, this was the best decision I ever made.”
“But now here you are,” he continued. “On the precipice of the greatest moment in the history of our Clan. Of all Clans, if not all humanity. Soon Terra will be ours, and all this-” he gestured to the ruins about them, “-we will rebuild this, and restore it to its true purpose. Not an empty tomb, but the seat of power for a reborn Star League.”
Leeandra looked around some more, taking in her surroundings, thoughts clearly running through her head. “Aff,” she finally managed.
“Something on your mind?” Lucius enquired.
“Just what you said,” Leeandra responded. “You are right. I am here because I chose to leave my Clan and take a risk on my future. But-“
“But?”
She took a deep breath before continuing. “I cannot forget that when I did that, there was a ristar who was eager to support me. They ensured that I would not only have a place in the Clan touman, but in a prestigious unit in their best Galaxy.”
“I saw the potential that you had, and all that you could bring to our Clan.”
“And yet you remind me of it now, of all times,” she continued, “now that we are both of equal rank and in a situation where either one of us could have to take command of the Cluster in an emergency.”
“Which you must admit is a very real possibility,” Lucius noted. “Not that I want any harm to come to our Star Colonel, but there is every chance he could be incapacitated or killed in action. That has happened a lot so far.”
“Aff,” she noted. “So then what do you want?”
“I have no idea what you mean,” Lucius responded with all the sincerity he could muster.
“Well, should such happen, the choices would be myself, you, Alvin Ward, Griff Heller and Gary,” she commented as she held up her hand. “Assuming no further losses, of course.”
“Of course,” he agreed.
“Gary is a replacement plucked from Iota with no Bloodname and only an outside shot at one at best,” she continued, counting off her fingers. “Griff is already a field promotion, and furthermore is from a minor Bloodhouse that nobody cares about.” She sighed before she continued. “So hypothetically that would leave yourself, me and Alvin.”
“Now I know I have marks against me,” she admitted. “I am a former Exile which means that I’m not as much a part of the system. The other members of the Connors Bloodhouse acknowledge my existence, but that is about it. Plus I recently lost my ‘Mech, which does not look good. Conversely, the pair of you are a Radick and a Ward, respectively; the two most powerful Bloodhouses within the Clan, both of which would be glad to see one of theirs became the leader of a prestigious frontline Cluster.”
“I suppose you could see it that way,” Lucius finally admitted.
“Now the Ward Bloodhouse is presently ascendant,” she added, “largely on the back of our Khan and his bringing us to this point. Which means that there would be more than a little push to put Alvin in command.”
“A logical connection.”
“So then,” Leeandra continued, “It would be beneficial to you to have my support should such a promotion be required. And in turn, doing so would be beneficial towards me.”
“I did not say that at all.”
“You did not need to,” she finished. “But I do understand what you are saying.”
“I thought you would,” Lucius finished.
“Aff,” she nodded as she looked around the ruined city once again.
-
Guest Chapter by KayEmm
Greenwall
T+38
Outside Frankfurt, Germany
Terra
Republic of the Sphere
After two weeks, the sheer magic of being on Terra was beginning to wear off.
As much as Kia Malthus had at first embraced the moment, she was now feeling a lot less excited. That exhilaration of setting foot on sacred Terra’s soil (both metaphorically when her Jade Phoenix had stepped out of the DropShip and then literally later) had been replaced with the grinding realities of war. The ongoing battles around Geneva, Paris and Normandy made it clear that Terra was not going to fall easily.
Not that Delta Galaxy were going to see either. Instead, the unit had been largely held in reserve, before being dispatched to Germany to deal with pockets of Republic troops in the region. To Kia’s mind, the idea felt more like punishment than any chance to gain glory in battle. Although that is probably just me, she mentally added. This is important. Do not lose focus.
“Trinary command to all units,” she announced over the command channel, using an update as a way to clear her mind. “Status?”
The result was a cascade of negatives. “I have not seen any yellow Pack Hunters yet,” Star Commander Max Klien added, a joking tone in his voice.
“Watch it,” Vic Roshak shot back, his snarl clearly aggravated.
“Just keep your eyes open, all of you,” Kia simply finished, shooting down what would have probably become another argument, even if she did agree with Klein. The yellow Pack Hunter had bedevilled her Trinary outside Geneva, proving to be remarkably effective at hit-and-run attacks while facing a far superior force. Even more irritatingly, it had escaped with much of its force due to a well-timed artillery barrage.
A sidewards glance told her little else beyond the feeling that Vic’s Turkina somehow managed to look as discontent as he was.
“Contact,” a voice called out over the channel. “Bearing oh-three-five. Appears to be heavy armor.”
“Aff,” Kia replied, just a hint of eagerness in her voice at the thought of a real battle. “All units, rotate to oh-three-five and prepare for contact.” The OmniMechs around her began to turn, but for the moment kept formation with her heavy Star.
“Probe Star, take the lead,” she ordered. “Be our eyes.” Five of those ‘Mechs peeled away, advancing towards the enemy line. Within moments, a flood of data came back to her Jade Phoenix, identifying enemy units. Manticore, Puma, Demolisher, Burke... older models. But still dangerous.
But we are Jade Falcon.
“All units, engage!” She shouted out as she opened up her throttle, advancing towards the enemy line. Around her, members of her Trinary opened up with long-range weapons, shots flying at the Republican lines. They responded in kind, their fire perhaps less focused or accurate, but no less deadly for it.
She picked one tank out of the enemy line; a hulking Demolisher II in the centre of a formation. The massive tank was capable of devastating fire at close ranges. However, she was not going to give it the chance.
Kia opened up with all her weapons on the enemy tank while remaining well out of its own reach. Her particle cannons lashed out with a pair of searing blue beams, flaying armor from its hull. More dramatic was her Gauss rifle as it unleashed a storm of metal shards that shredded through its flank, including one of its treads.
While she may have been beyond the Demolisher’s reach, there were others who were capable of responding. A Burke tank opened fire with its own trio of PPCs; one of which went wide, while the other two took armor from her leg and side. The Jade Phoenix rocked under the impacts, but it was scarcely enough to slow her down.
A moment later, the Burke was speared with a quartet of beams from Vic’s Turkina. The shots melted through its turret armor before slagging one of the particle cannons. At the same time, Steyr’s Flamberge leaped past her, unleashing a torrent of missiles onto a Republican Manticore.
Ahead of her, the Demolisher II was trying to close, only to be hampered by its damaged treads. Kia wasn’t going to give it a chance to do more, carefully keeping herself outside the range of its cannons as she unleashed another volley. PPC and Gauss fire that drilled through the damaged armor and then ate away at its interior; moments later, black smoke began to billow forth from its wounds.
With the tank either disabled or grievously wounded, she turned her attention to other prey. A Patton tank pushed towards her, cranking around its turret. Firing her jump jets in response, Kia took to the air as a Gauss rifle shot from the Patton few through the space she had occupied a moment before. Keeping her sights on the enemy tank, she unloaded on it in reply, with shots pummelling its armour.
As he landed, Kia saw Max’s Hierofalcon leap overhead, its laser tearing into the enemy lines. As it began to descend, a single PPC shot struck the ‘Mech on its side, causing it to twist in the air against the impact.
Glancing around, Kia could immediately see the source of the attack. A group of BattleMechs approaching from the flank, having likely waited until her Trinary were committed before engaging. And at their head was a bright yellow Pack Hunter.
In spite of herself, Kia couldn’t help but smile a little. Terra had suddenly become a lot more interesting.
-----
From the cockpit of his Pack Hunter II, Tariku Noab Adani had watched the battle unfold entirely as expected. The Falcons had committed to their assault on the 110th, pushing hard against the wall of heavy tanks. Now it was his turn to strike back.
The shot at the Hierofalcon had been a dramatic announcement of his presence, but it was not the only one. In moments, the rest of Sunstorm surged onto the battlefield, lead by a wedge of BattleMechs. Hovercraft followed in their wake, using the presence of those ‘Mechs to mask their own approaches as they sought gaps in the enemy line that they could exploit.
He found his first target, a Falcon Black Hawk that had been on the edge of their formation. Pushing towards the slower, heavier ‘Mech, he snapped off a series of quick shots at it. His PPC struck home, spearing into it’s side, while his medium lasers added their own scars to its limbs. Moments later, Santos’ Legionnaire added its own PPC fire to the assault, further threatening the enemy ‘Mech.
Damaged but still standing, the Falcon OmniMech did its best to retaliate by unleashing a volley of laser fire in his direction. Most of the volley went wide, with only a single laser scoring armor from his Pack Hunter’s side. Tariku was already in motion, putting distance between him and his target as it tried to give chase.
Which was exactly what he wanted.
A squad of Simian battle armor troopers leaped at the Black Hawk, securing themselves onto its hull. Tariku knew what was coming next as the troopers went to work, placing satchel charges into its exposed actuators. “Thanks for the opening,” Naja Beniko called out over the communicator, her voice clear over the noise of her suit and the ‘Mech it was attached to. “We got this.”
Pushing past the burning hulk of a Puma tank, Tariku sought out his next opponent. The wounded Hierofalcon came into sight, again in flight; while already damaged, he also knew that chasing it would be difficult at best due to its extreme mobility. Even then, the fire being directed at it made it abundantly clear that the Falcon MechWarrior had plenty to deal with already.
Taking a glance at his tactical display, he could see how the situation was unfolding. Sunstorm’s units were now in among both the 110th and the Falcon forces, bolstering the former and disrupting the latter. Seeing an opening, he pushed the throttle open all the way, sprinting in a broad arc around the Falcon forces as he eyed a particular group of icons on his display. Along the way, he took opportunity shots at whatever targets presented themselves, aiming as much to do damage as to spread confusion among their ranks.
Taking a sharp turn, he bought his sights to bear on a new target, a Falcon Night Gyr that was presently engaged with friendly tanks. Using its distraction to his advantage, he fired a shot into the heavy ‘Mech’s flank, one that clearly punched through its armour and hit something within. It staggered, only to be further battered by a wave of missile fire from his allies. Despite the assault, the Falcon ‘Mech remained standing, but he could tell that the MechWarrior within was threatened by his arrival.
As if to confirm his suspicion, the Night Gyr fired its jump jets, doing its best to break out of his line of fire. Rather than turn its weapons on him, it continued its assault on the tanks it was already facing. A traditionalist sticking to zellbrigen, Tariku asked himself as he spun his ‘Mech around to follow. Or something else…
The answer came when a pair of PPC shots flew past his BattleMech, both coming perilously close to striking home. Their source became clear a moment later as a massive shape landed in front of him; the half-bird, half-humanoid form of a Jade Phoenix.
“Republic Knight,” a woman’s voice called out. “We fought once before outside Geneva. Let us pick up where we left off.”
Tariku didn’t bother with a reply. Instead, he broke into a run, trying to put as much distance between him and his opponent as possible. It weighs three times as much as I do, and carries three times the firepower, he grimly noted. There is no way I can take it alone.
But I am not alone.
He took a run back towards his own forces, looking around for other members of Sunstorm. That has to be their commander. If I can take her out, then that will go a long way towards-
He violently swerved the controls, twisting at the last moment as the Jade Phoenix landed in his path. Where did it come from? He had not expected something so large to be that mobile, a miscalculation that he now worried he might not live to regret.
-----
Kia was excited. There was no other word for it.
While she would never doubt the idea that the Clans produced the greatest warriors in the Inner Sphere, there were still those that were considered to be genuine challenges. Among them were the Republic’s Knights; a warrior order that represented the very pinnacle of their armed forces. Every Knight was an elite warrior, the best of the best.
And now she was fighting one.
The Knight in the Pack Hunter was grossly outmatched, and it was clear that they knew it. Her Jade Phoenix weighed nearly three times as much a it did, and had a corresponding imbalance of firepower as well. However, to their credit, they were doing their best to use what few advantages they had. They were trying to evade her or even flank, her, a process made harder by the mobility of her own OmniMech.
The Pack Hunter jumped away again, the light BattleMech glowing red hot on her thermal display. It lashed out with its PPC, the shot searing armor from her leg, damaging it but doing little to slow her down. At the same time, its heat spiked even further, the result of constant movement and weapons fire. She replied with her own weapons, both PPCs leaping out to strike at the swift moving enemy. One went wide, while the second struck its left arm, all but obliterating the limb.
At the same time, a Manticore tank opened fire at her, its PPC smashing armor off her Jade Phoenix’s hull. Without a second thought she opened upon it with her HAG, the weapon unleashing a storm of metal on the enemy tank. Shots tore though its hull, finding gaps in the armor before eating into the components within. She must have hit something inside it, as flames leaped from the tank’s rear.
Taking advantage of her distraction, the Pack Hunter tried to leap around her and into her side. She responded in kind, using her jump jets to vault past several ruined tanks, twisting to follow the smaller ‘Mech. More fire leaped between the pair of them, with both combatants going wide of the mark.
And yet, as she came down, Kia couldn’t help but smile.
A flight of Cardinal transports buzzed overhead, looping around to the rear of the Republic lines. As they swooped down, they disgorged their payload of Elementals behind the enemy forces. “Engaging, Star Captain,” Pierce Icaza reported, the sounds of battle clear over the communicator. “We have them.”
Which leaves just one thing to deal with. Kia charged forwards, twisting to follow the Pack Hunter as it tried to pull back towards its own lines. She opened fire with both of her PPCs, one of the weapons striking a near fatal blow. The weapon tore into the Pack Hunter’s side, tearing apart the PPC while sending the right arm spinning way. Unbalanced by the damage, the enemy ‘Mech staggered but managed to remain standing.
“You fought well,” Kia announced. “But the battle is lost. Withdraw from the battlefield and preserve the lives of your men.” The enemy Knight must have known the extent of the situation. His ‘Mech was disarmed, both literally and figuratively, while the rest of his force were now caught between her Trinary and Pierce’s Elementals.
And then the Pack Hunter leaped away, its flight unbalanced by the damage it had suffered, yet the MechWarrior managed it well.
Kia gave a small smile before returning her command channel. “All units,” she ordered. “Finish them.”
-
Guest Chapter by KayEmm
Interlude - Archive 001 – 07/06/3075
Jackson King: Nina, Jackson. Good to see you both.
Morgan Blackstone: You’re looking well.
Nina Raymond: I’m going to be charitable and assume that wasn’t directed to me.
Blackstone: Uh, yeah.
King: So take it that we’re all here for a reason and that this isn’t just a social chat.
Raymond: You know what this is about.
Blackstone: It is. I was thinking about how to handle our little find.
King: Beyond the fact that it’s not going to divide easily, you mean.
Raymond: And that right now is not a good time to be flaunting such matters.
Blackstone: Right. Between the hunters and our beloved employers, we all have a lot on our plates without drawing more attention to ourselves.
Raymond: Speak for yourself, Morgan. Leave me out of whatever issues you have with them. They’ve been pretty damned good to me, all things considered.
King: Likewise.
Blackstone: My mistake. But regardless, I suspect we all feel that this is something we’d be better off with them not knowing about.
King: You would be right there.
Raymond: I suppose so.
King: So what are you suggesting?
Blackstone: We hide it in a place that we can all agree on. Then, when all this is over, whoever among us is still standing can claim it.
Raymond: Sure, that’s a real generous offer to make to the woman with a terminal disease. Go to hell, Blackstone.
King: She has a point. What if none of us make it out of this alive? This is a dangerous profession and we live in dangerous times. We could all die tomorrow, and then what?
Blackstone: Fine. How about this then; we all have heirs, seconds and people we can trust. We keep them in the loop, and them alone.
Raymond: Enough people to know, not enough people to leak.
Blackstone: Exactly.
King: That does seem like a reasonable compromise to me.
Raymond: I suppose so. If nothing else, it means my boys and their families will be looked after.
Blackstone: So it’s agreed then.
King: I guess so. See you when this is all over.
Raymond: Or in hell, whichever comes first.
-
Guest Chapter by KayEmm
Interlude - Living in the Shed
“So gals,” Jessie Raymond commented as she adjusted her guitar for the dozenth time, “are we ready to give this all a try?”
“Um, are you sure we should be doing this?” Mia Chen asked, looking up from her own instrument.
“What do you mean?” Jessie replied.
“I mean...” Mia nervously fidgeted. “Aren’t you supposed to be training or something?”
“It’ll be fine,” Jessie managed, even if her own tone was less then convincing.
“Yeah, but,” Kura Natna continued, not even looking at her drums, “what if someone hears us?”
Jessie looked around. “This here storage is designed to hold ammo and fuel and junk like that,” she explained. “It’s meant to protect against accidents and fire and whatever else. Nobody’s gonna hear us.”
“Uh, but,” Mia stammered, “what if your mom, um, I mean, Major Raymond finds out?”
Jessie all but groaned in frustration. “She ain’t gonna find out. Nobody knows about this.”
“You sure?” Kura asked.
“Positive,” she nodded. “Nobody, remember? We bought all the instruments ourselves with our money. We moved them in ourselves on our time. Nobody knows about this.” There was a hint of frustration creeping into her voice. “And there ain’t a single band that got famous by worrying if their mom was going to find out.”
“Well I guess,” Mia admitted.
“Come on, gals, this is us,” Jessie continued. “We’re gonna be awesome at this.”
She turned around, as much about her determination to get started as to cut off anything Mia or Kura might have said. Instead, she adjusted her microphone to get ready.
The clatter of the door opening cut her off before she could start. A single figure was standing there, glaring at her.
Connie Raymond. Her mother and commanding officer.
“Jessica Raymond,” Connie snarled. “What the hell do you think you are doing?”
Anything that Jessie might have said died in her throat.
Connie simply marched into the room, grabbing her by the wrist. “I have told you about this,” she continued as she dragged Jessie away. Behind her, both Mia and Kura seemed to shrink back, hoping that they would be able to escape Connie’s wrath. “You are supposed to be training right now. Not wasting your life on this crap.”
Jessie wanted to say something, but she couldn’t. As she was dragged off, she couldn’t help but notice a single figure present, the only witness to what had happened outside of her band. Her brother Ronnie, wearing the most satisfied smirk that she had ever seen.
-
Guest Chapter by KayEmm
Interlude - Gathering Intel
Maroo
Gillfillan’s Gold
Rim Territories
3 March, 3149
Like seemingly everything else on Gillfillan’s Gold, the Maroo spaceport could be best described as ‘functional’. Its most prominent feature was the seemingly endless sea of reinforced ferrocrete that ships took off from and landed on, but that was not the sum total of its existence. It was, in turn, surrounded by a shoal of bland, pre-fabricated building that served as everything from control facilities and hangars to warehouses and offices.
The section that served as the Iron Knights’ compound was outwardly no different from the others, save for its proximity to their pair of DropShips. Save for the temporary signs with their insignia and having their own patrols supporting dropport security, there was little to indicate that they were there. Unless someone happened to be present when they were loading a BattleMech or the like, they could go on unnoticed.
Kaitlyn Farris knocked on the door of an office block, one that was outside of the numbers on the side, identical to every other one around it. There was a pause before a simple “enter” came in reply. There was no request for her to identify herself, nor any hesitation in letting her in.
The interior of the office had started out as plain as its exterior, but its sole inhabitant had redecorated it to suit their purposes. A tattered, ancient map of the Inner Sphere covered one wall, while around it were all manner of other charts depicting constellations, phases of various configurations of moons, orbital diagrams as well as a number of other ones that she couldn’t begin to figure out. The room’s small kitchen and sink area was cluttered with all manner of vials and bottles, each one of them hand-labelled. Another shelf held a collection of candles, as if to simply prove a point.
But what caught Kait’s eye the most was the table in the middle of the room. While it was just a simple, flat-pack piece that had come with the office, its top was now adorned with print-outs from the intelligence they’d received from their employer, depicting battleROM stills of the force they would be facing. What took her was the way the papers were laid out; arranged into five points, as if to form a pentagon or a star. That they had a small talisman weighing each down suggested the latter.
“What are you doing?” Kait asked.
“Getting to know our enemy,” Iulia Dragan replied as she casually looked over a bottle from her collection, swishing around the dark liquid within.
Kait simply nodded. The information they had on the White Death pirate band painted a familiar story, one that hit close to home for her. Once mercenaries, they had fallen hard and resorted to piracy, and now were raiding worlds across the Rim Territories. The intelligence they’d been provided painted as good a picture of them as possible, but Kait knew that was not what Iulia had meant. “Anything so far?”
“Death is not just a name for them,” Iulia offered as she walked over to the table. “They act to embrace it. They paint their faces with skulls, and paint their ‘Mechs its color. But most of all, they are living on a world that is going to kill them as surely as our weapons would.”
“What do you know about their world?” Kait asked. According to their employer, the White Death operated out of Wingzar, a world that was simply marked as ‘dead’ on most charts.
Iulia nodded, heading across the room to pick up a weighty, leather-bound tome. Kait had seen this book before, and knew it to be some relic that was prized by her friend. It had proven to be an invaluable source of information, but only to Iulia herself. Nobody else, not even Kait, had been permitted to even look inside it.
She opened the book and flipped through several pages, before settling on one she was after. “Wingzar, the poisoned world,” she began, reading each word carefully.
“Wingzar is poisoned. The air is poisoned. The land is poisoned. The water is poisoned. The plants, the animals, all life there is poisoned.”
“White death blankets the world. The bones of trees grasp at a dead sky. The waters are brown with sickness. Those creatures that still dwell there both thrive on and die of the poison; they absorb from all they eat and touch, letting it devour them from within, the sickness evident in the rot on their skins. Those that survive are strong, and pass on that strength to their progeny so that they too may thrive, then wither and die.”
“Man has not been so lucky. He first came to the world before the time of the Star League, and found it to be both rich and poor. Much wealth abounded in the form of valuable minerals, but the water and all life there was tainted with poison. It was only with the aid of machines that they were able to tame the world, using them to give them clean water to drink and to grow their crops.”
“But once he tamed the world, man became greedy. His machines pulled its wealth from its heart, but poisoned the earth, the water and the sky. Man did not care, for he became rich off its bounty, and his machines meant that he could continue to live in the hell that he had made. For centuries, man continued, building more and more machines to sustain him.”
“But it could not last forever. After the Shark died and the Rim Worlds fell, Wingzar was left alone. Man had his wealth, but when the ships stopped coming, nobody could buy it. He had poisoned the land so it would not give him food, and he could not eat the pretty rocks he pulled from the earth. One by one, the machines spluttered and died, slowly choking life from the world. The poisons that had always been there mixed with the ones man had unleashed, killing him. We know not when the last man died, only that he was gone a century before we ever set foot there.”
“Today it is an empty place. Man’s past remains; the empty cities and factories, the mines and machines still litter the world, but nothing dwells there. The world offers nothing for anyone save for a lingering death.”
Kait paused a moment in consideration. “Sounds... lovely,” she managed, and then paused as something else from the text sank in. “Wait, the shark?”
“The name ‘Amaris’ is not used anywhere within Cartea Morților,” Iulia explained. Kait suspected there was a good reason why, but she also knew she would never get an answer.
“Do you think we can handle the White Death?” she continued.
“As said, they have tried to make death their own,” Iulia considered. “And their leader it’s lord. But, they do not command it. It is a power too strong for them to command.”
“That sounds like a positive assessment to me,” Kait nodded.
Iulia closed her tome, carefully putting it down before she spoke again. “So then what is bothering you?”
“What do you mean?”
“You would not be coming to me while I was working otherwise,” Iulia stated. “You would wait until I was done like you always have.”
“I, uh, I dreamed about the mountain again last night,” she finally admitted, fidgeting with the end of her scarf as she did.
“I see.”
“It was... vivid,” she continued. “It felt so real, like I was there again. The sights, the sounds, the blood, all of it.” She paused as more thoughts ran through her mind. “I mean, it was a pretty... intense experience after all, and I nearly died and...”
Iulia furrowed her brow in thought. “It was a key point where the universe turned,” she finally spoke. “Ripples from that moment will continue to spread.”
“So what do you think?”
“Hm,” she went over to her collection of bottles, picking one out from the rack, before handing it to Kait. “Drink a sip of this before bed,” she offered. “And maybe consider finding a good psychiatrist.”
“That... is not the answer I expected from you,” she admitted, with an ever so slight chuckle.
“I’m just a regular space witch,” Iulia replied. “Even I do not know everything.”
-
Guest Chapter by Zogster
Interlude - Living Large
Outside Andressa
Thraxa
Anti-Spinward Periphery
23 March 3149
The Red Reavers’ command lance strode across the empty tarmac of a massive spaceport. It was unoccupied, save for their own DropShip and the crews busy loading it. Peering out through the cockpit of her hulking Gunslinger, Violetta Vujic spotted the motorcade rolling out to meet them. She smirked behind her neurohelmet and opened up a line to the DropShip.
“How’s loading going, boys?” she said, the eagerness evident in her voice.
“We’ll be done by the time you get our pay,” came the gruff reply followed by a low chuckle.
“Copy that,” Violetta replied. She thumbed her communicator over to her lance’s channel. “Alright boys, time to give them a show.” She received a chorus of confirmations in reply.
The Gunslinger came to a halt as the motorcade pulled to a stop. The BattleMech’s bulk towered over the official cars, casting a long shadow over them. Down on the tarmac, an ageing man nervously stepped out and craned his neck to look up at Violetta.
“Is it done?” he asked into a communicator, mustering as much courage as the situation allowed.
Violetta switched over to the Gunslinger’s external speakers, letting her voice boom out over the spaceport. “Done. We hunted down the bandits to a man. Didn’t let a single one get away. Your people are safe from them.”
The man on the tarmac visibly sagged in relief. “Thank you, thank you…” He muttered half to himself. “They had been preying on our planet for years.”
“All in a day’s work,” Violetta replied. “So let’s talk about our payment.”
“Ah…” He paused, swallowing hard and steeling himself as he faced down the towering ‘Mech. “First… we know the bandits had been raiding our stores for a long time. They must have had plenty of our supplies still…”
“Shame that,” Violetta replied, all too casually. “Seems like they knew we were coming. Must have panicked or something, ‘cause by the time we got there the storehouses were up in flames.” She almost wish her Gunslinger could shrug nonchalantly, but she made do.
“But without their stores…” the man faltered. “We were relying on them to make up your unit’s payment.”
“Not my problem.”
“But without those stores –“
“Here’s what’s going to happen,” she said, cutting him off. “You’re going to pay us what we agreed. Or.” She paused for effect as the other three BattleMechs shifted forwards, casting long shadows over the motorcade. “We head off world and we tell everyone how your world welches on its contracts. And the next time a group of bandits, raiders, pirates or whatever descends on your puny little planet, nobody is going to come and save you.” She let her words sink in for a moment before adding “And we take what we’re owed.”
Silence rang out over the field, loud and oppressive. The man on the ground looked up, trying to see into the cockpit, trying to make out just who this was making demands, demands that he simply could not refuse.
“So. Where’s our money?”
-----
With the DropShip’s doors sealed, Violetta clambered out of her Gunslinger’s cockpit. She pulled off her neurohelmet and tossed out her hair before handing it to a scrawny man with a scratchy beard waiting for her. “How’d loading go, Karloff?” she asked him.
“Everything’s packed and ready to go,” he replied, adding a low chuckle. “We got all the supplies the bandits, uh, torched.” His eyes glinted as he glanced over at the Calliope already strapped into position for takeoff.
“Good work,” she said, clapping him on the shoulder. “Prep the ship for departure. I want to be out of here before anyone on the ground gets suspicious.”
“Look what I found,” boomed out a deep voice from the DropShip bay’s floor. Violetta left Karloff and rapidly shimmied her way down a ladder to see what the commotion was. Jackson, her staunchest supporter, towered over the gathering crowd. Violetta pushed through just as he hoisted up a scruffy teenager.
“Little brat was digging around in our supplies. Our ‘reclaimed’ supplies,” Jackson explained.
The kid kicked at the air, his feet well off the ground, as he struggled to get out of Jackson’s iron grip. “Let me go! You’ll be sorry when I tell everyone what you’ve done.”
“Then we don’t let you tell anyone,” Violetta said, smirking at the boy. “Throw him in the brig,” she told Jackson, before turning to the room. “And get this boat in the air.”
“No! You can’t do this!” the boy called out from Jackson’s grip.
Violetta leaned in, smiling broadly. “Just did. Welcome to the Reavers, kid. You’re going to have an adventure.”
-
Guest chapter by Zogster
God of War
Redoubt Volga, Russia, Asia
Terra
Republic of the Sphere
T+42
It may have been considered treason, but Jean was beginning to dislike Terra.
There was no doubt of its beauty, both natural and man-made. As the fighting has spread across the world, he’d had the opportunity to see many of humanity’s great works on their ancestral home – and seen them be ravaged by battle. The world should be a museum, he mused to himself, not a battleground. Was this the fault of the Republic for making it the richest target in the galaxy, or the Clans for taking the bait?
But he needed to put such thoughts out of his head. His Tundra Wolf’s massive feet crushed snow and ice beneath them as he pushed through the wooded terrain. His Trinary – no, Star Captain Katja’s Trinary – advanced on the retreating 32nd Republic Militia. The Militia had crashed across the Volga river and struck Alpha Galaxy hard, before falling back. Katja’s command had joined the pursuit, which Jean was becoming convinced was a trap. The place had been seeded with land mines, and carefully picking through them had slowed them to the point that enemy artillery was becoming worryingly accurate. Star Commander Sloane had already fallen back due to severe damage, leaving Katja in direct command of two Stars.
As he pushed on through the terrain, he carefully eyed the Star Captain’s Night Wolf alongside him. It had belonged to his previous commander, Star Captain Pietro. He had watched as it was gutted by enemy fire outside of Hong Kong. Even the light dusting of snow across its torso couldn’t hide the numerous scars where it had been patched up. The Mech had been recoverable; Pietro less so.
“Focus, Star Commander,” Katja said, somehow sensing his distraction. Katja was young, eager, and had been field promoted into this position. Over me, he couldn’t help but think. She had also been there when Pietro met his fate; he could only hope she had learned something from the episode.
“Sensor readings ahead,” came a voice over the communicator. His Starmate’s Blood Reaper linked its sensor findings to the Trinary. While many of the pings were unclear, possible ghost images from the trees or units effectively hidden by the aforesaid, two of them stood out clearly. From the readings both were too large to hide, regardless of the terrain.
“What in Kerensky’s name is that?” came another voice over the communicator. Jean magnified his screen, trying to get a good look at the reading. He double-checked the readings to be sure; it had to be half again as tall as the largest BattleMech, with a squat torso atop four – he corrected himself as its lower half rotated, shuffling the monstrosity aside while keeping it facing directly at them – three bowed legs.
Jean did not like the look of that. “Star Captain, suggest we hold back.”
“Neg, Star Commander. It is one ‘Mech,” Katja replied sternly.
“One very large ‘Mech,” Jean replied. He knew he was pushing his luck. Talking back to his commanding officer was frowned upon at the best of times. Right now, he didn’t want to consider the consequences. “We do not know what it is.”
“We know what it is.” Katja accelerated the throttle on her Night Wolf. “It is their Folly.”
Jean gritted his teeth in frustration. Katja had not learned.
The Star Captain’s ‘Mech strode forwards. Encouraged by her words, and accompanied by a few throaty chuckles, her and Sloane’s Stars advanced with her. “We bear down on-“
Whatever she might have wanted to say was cut off. It was not simply that her Night Wolf’s head was removed, but that a deep furrow had been carved in its upper torso. A second later, the sonic boom from the tripod’s massive arm-mounted gauss cannon rang out over the battlefield. The Night Wolf seemed for a moment like it would simply stop in its tracks, but instead it slowly teetered over and fell unceremoniously on its front.
The advance stopped dead. A muttering of confusion was interrupted by further gauss fire, crashing through the trees and making solid, although less devastating impacts among the reduced Trinary.
Jean reacted before anyone else could. “All units, spread out. Keep at range and maneuver around the target. Use what cover you can.” There was a moment of confusion, half the unit wondering if there even was still a chain of command before realising it fell to an overlooked Star Commander.
Jean kicked his Tundra Wolf’s MASC into gear, twisting his ‘Mech’s torso to circle around their giant adversary while keeping it in his sights. Reports were coming in from the rest of the Trinary as they seemingly blundered right into smaller, lighter vehicles hidden amongst the terrain. The enemy seemed content to harass, taking a few shots and falling back towards the tripod. Luring them into the kill zone.
Jean would have none of it. “Do not pursue. Spread out and circle around the target. Keep at range. It can’t take on all of us at once.”
But he was wrong. Standing tall in the center of the battlefield, the colossal ‘Mech spun on its axis, taking worryingly accurate shots in all directions. Jean took advantage of its distraction as it focused on the far side of the battlefield. He fired off his own pulse lasers and a flight of ATMs at the thing’s rear. While he scored searing cuts across its torso, the missiles were shot down by a blizzard of fire moments before impact. Worse still, he managed to draw its attention. The massive gauss rifle arm swivelled on its shoulder, flipping over its back and firing straight at him. The slug caught his Tundra Wolf in the leg with such force that he was knocked clean off his feet before he knew what was happening.
Jean shook his head against the sudden pain as he brought his ‘Mech to its feet. He felt a wet smudge pressing against his neurohelmet but did his best to ignore it. He was done with guessing at its capabilities. They needed more intel.
A quick check of his available troops showed what he needed. With a few quick orders, he began to arrange the units he needed. His own Star, Charlie Battle, collapsed on his location and they began to move as one, circling around the target. Volleys of long-range ATMs soared across the battlefield, while laser, PPC and gauss fire seared through the trees. Between the cover and the distance, they scored few hits, and what few missiles reached the target were cut down by murderously efficient gunfire. Still, for better or for worse they achieved their objective and drew its undivided attention.
-----
Mechwarrior Priyanka ran for her life. Her Locust IIC pelted through the trees, kicking up clouds of powered snow as she went. The terrain whipped past her as she pushed her BattleMech to its limits, bearing down on her objective. Within seconds she burst out of the treeline into a hastily cleared redoubt. It seemed like the majority of the enemy forces had assembled here; the light tanks that had harassed their Trinary had fallen back here to support the massive tripod. Weaving and running, firing off her own lasers at whatever she came past, she quickly took stock of the situation.
The superheavy BattleMech towered over her own, seismic sensors indicating with each thundering step that it weighed 135 tons. Aside from its massive gauss rifle, the ‘Mech was bristling with secondary weapons, pointed in all directions. Accompanying it was a titanic slab of a tank resembling a Demolisher, the massive furrows in its wake indicating its own superheavy nature. Two similarly huge gauss rifles protruded from its front, aimed at Charlie Battle in the distance. Finally, a squadron of what appeared to be Angerona battle armour squatted between the pillar-like legs of the tripod, although their fire was directed at incoming flights of missiles, cutting them down with ease.
Even as it brought its weapons to bear on Charlie Battle, the tripod blossomed with fire. Even at her top speed, Priyanka’s Locust IIC was scored by its laser weapons. Only her ‘Mech’s advanced armour, deflecting away much of the incoming heat and energy, kept her alive. Fearing for her life and hoping that her intel would be enough, she turned tail and made for the trees.
-----
Leading his Star in its circular pattern, Jean listened intently to Priyanka’s report. Although they clearly outnumbered the Republic forces, the firepower their superheavy units provided was insurmountable. The battle armour kept them from dueling efficiently at long range, and the mines and light tanks waiting in the center made an advance all but suicidal. He was glad she had made it out alive, but faltered, trying to decide what to do next.
In a way, the decision was made for him. Another hypersonic slug from the superheavy tank clipped his Starmate’s Sun Cobra across its lower arm. A second later, the ‘Mech’s own compromised gauss rifle ripped itself apart from within, tearing the arm’s structure to shreds. Even at this range their fire was too accurate, and the armour on both units was too heavy for them to whittle down. No, there was only one solution.
“All units, disengage and fall back.” Jean expected at least some dissent, if only from Katja’s Star. But the remnants of the Trinary seemed to be in agreement. They dispersed, fading into the woods and picking their way back to the relative safety of their approach path. The Republic forces seemed content to let them withdraw, firing a few parting shots but otherwise not pursuing.
Charlie Trinary reassembled, and Jean took stock of his forces. They had fared better than he expected. After Katja’s Night Wolf, they had not suffered any casualties, although many of their ‘Mechs had lost limbs or bore exposed components. Had the battle gone on any longer, he knew that casualties would have started piling up.
But he had done it. He had engaged the enemy and, while it had been a retreat, he had kept his men alive. All else aside, he could be proud of that accomplishment.
His reverie was interrupted by a low and gruff voice over the comms. “This is Star Colonel Don Cooper, Thirteenth Wolf Guard Battle Cluster. Star Captain Katja, report.”
Jean picked up the line. “Star Captain Katja is dead. This is Star Commander Jean, representing Charlie Trinary.”
There was a pause on the other end. Soon enough, the response came. “Star Commander Sloane, report.”
Jean was taken aback for a moment, long enough for the imposing bulk of Don Cooper’s Savage Coyote to come into view. The gleaming fresh 'Mech was accompanied by a full Trinary of OmniMechs, all equally fresh and ready for action.
Eventually Jean found his voice. “Star Commander Sloane has withdrawn from the battlefield. This is Star Commander Jean, representing Charlie Trinary.”
A lone “hrmph” was all that came back for a moment. At length, Don Cooper replied “Well then report, Star Commander.”
“Enemy is dug in with two superheavy units, alongside supporting light tanks and battle armour,” he began, before being cut off.
“Excellent. Charlie Trinary can fall back. We will take care of this,” Don Cooper replied.
“These are not regular units, sir,” Jean told him.
“Beta Galaxy will handle this, Star Commander,” Don Cooper told him, his voice raising over the communicator. “Where Iota could not.”
“But Star Colonel –“
“Shut it, Pudding Wolf!” Don Cooper snapped at him. “You are out of your element!”
Jean stood, stunned, as the Beta Galaxy trinary advanced past them. All he’d been through and that was the response? For a moment he just stood still, watching as the last of Don Cooper’s fade into the trees ahead of them.
In time, the silence was broken by a question from the comms. “What do we do now, sir?”
“We fall back,” Jean replied almost automatically. He took one look at the disappearing ‘Mechs ahead of him, then turned his Tundra Wolf around. “You heard the man. Let them take care of it.”
It was official. Jean hated Terra. And he knew just why.
-
Bad Blood
Leeandra Connors quickly glanced over the controls of her Coyotl as she got ready to launch from the DropShip. The OmniMech had been salvaged from the Republic forces and offered to her as a replacement for her Arctic Wolf II. While its performance and loadout was similar to her previous ‘Mech, she found the small differences in how it handled and its cockpit layout to be more than a little frustrating.
She’d taken to calling the ‘Mech Manky Yote, a quiet way to make her displeasure known.
Not that she had any time to deal with that right now. Below them, Alpha and Iota Galaxies were being hammered by the Republic forces, trapped between them, their fortifications and the Volga river. Comms traffic indicated the desperation of the situation, including reports of superheavy ‘Mechs among the Republic forces.
There was a thud as the DropShip landed, warning sirens going off as the bay doors opened up ahead of them. “Bloodseekers, go!” Leeandra shouted as she lead her Binary out of the DropShip, charging towards the Republic lines. She pushed Manky Yote ahead, taking the lead over the rest of her force. Rearranging their forces after Alaska had given her a full Binary again, but even that had its holes. She’d begun the invasion with two Star Commanders following her lead. Both of them had died along the way.
Shots flew around the Coyotl as she pushed forward towards the Republic lines, who were in turn already pivoting to face the newcomers. She surged past a battered Iota Galaxy Tundra Wolf and the rest of its Star, seeking her own prey in among the enemy forces.
A damaged Republican Marauder was her first target. One of its arms was little more than limp strands of metal and myomer, while its body was also heavily battered. She opened up with her large pulse laser as she closed in, the weapon scattering brilliant energy darts across its side. Aware of the assault, the Marauder sent a combination of PPC and laser fire back at her, both shots going wide of the fast-moving OmniMech.
So maybe this thing isn’t entirely awful, she admitted to herself.
She fired her jump jets, vaulting over the terrain while throwing off the Marauder’s aim. Closing down the range, Leeandra opened up again, with her Streak SRMs joining the pulse laser. While only carrying half as many as her Arctic Wolf II had, the results were still satisfactory, as missiles slammed into the Marauder, eclipsing its upper half.
As she came down, a laser shot sliced through the armour on her leg. Sparing only a glance at the damage display while ignoring the heat flooding the cockpit, she continued to move, circling around her opponent. As soon as her weapons were ready, Leeandra opened fire again, unleashing another volley of laser and missile fire towards the Marauder.
This time the results were dramatic. The pulse laser struck at its heart, drilling through the already depleted armour before savaging the systems within. Her SRMs followed through, seeking out the rents in its armour to feast on the BattleMech’s vital systems. The Marauder staggered under the barrage, before crashing to the ground, smoke billowing from its broken form.
Leeandra had no time to celebrate, as an alarm warned her of another approaching enemy. She spun the Coyotl around to face her new opponent; the looming, bestial form of a Barghest.
It would have to be a Lyran ‘Mech, she dryly considered. The fierce-looking quad was a genuine threat, sporting a massive heavy gauss rifle that could crush the limbs of her ‘Mech in a single shot. Of course, first she had to let it hit her.
She shifted sideways, skipping her ‘Mech in a move that the Barghest pilot likely didn’t expect, before pushing towards it in a wide arc. Keep to its left side where it can’t bring the gun to bear, she told herself. A quad ‘Mech was a great platform for a weapon like that, but it also came with a number of limitations that she could exploit.
Her pulse laser lashed out at the Barghest, flaying armour off its foreleg. Its own lasers came back in reply, spearing into the Coyotl’s side. However, that was not what caught her attention.
Instead, it was an insignia that was visible for a moment on the quad’s side. A fanged, horned skull on a blue shield.
Hansen’s Roughriders. The same mercenaries they had fought in Alaska.
“All units,” she called out over the command channel. “Target the group of BattleMechs at my location and take them down, hard.” The appearance of the Roughriders had changed everything for her. It was no longer about defeating the Republic or rescuing her fellow Wolves.
This was about revenge.
-
Guest chapter by KayEmm
Dead Man’s Hand
Krakow, Poland
Terra
Republic of the Sphere
T+49
“Jayce?”
Jayce Wakinshaw looked over from the holotable to see Tan Yo-Han enter the situation room. “You’re calling me by name, not rank,” he observed. “Clearly something’s on your mind.”
“No hiding it from you,” he nodded.
“So what’s up?”
“We’re all kinds of screwed, aren’t we?”
“Well...” Jayce looked again at his strategic map of the European theatre. Much of it was now either Falcon green or Wolf orange, leaving only islands of friendly territory. Markers indicated the locations of friendly and enemy units, with the former becoming ever increasingly scarce. “It’s not looking the best, no,” he admitted.
“And we’re stuck here,” Yo-Han continued.
“There is a bit of that,” Jayce nodded. “Really, I’m not sure if running through the gauntlet of Clan aerospace would be that much of a better option.”
“And here comes the inevitable ‘but’.”
Jayce gave a wry chuckle. “We have a contract. The Republic has already made good on the advance, and you know how much is coming at the end of it.”
“You’re assuming we’ll live to get paid, or that the Republic will exist to pay us.”
“I gotta stay positive, man,” Jayce countered. “I’m well aware of the situation and how it looks.”
“And now comes your counter ‘but’.”
Jayce laughed. “Devlin Stone is the sort of dodgy son of a bitch who has a plan ready.”
“And you’re saying this as the same sort of dodgy son of a bitch,” Yo-Han shot back.
“Takes one to know one,” he agreed. “Call it wary optimism, but I have a feeling that this is far from over. Besides, the Red Right Hand never fails to deliver.”
“Significant historical defeats aside,” Yo-Han simply stated.
“Details,” Jayce waved him off. “We’ve been doing well so far.”
“Those have been small-scale skirmishes. We’re yet to commit to a big battle”
Jayce sighed again. “See? This is why we broke up. You can’t give me a moment’s slack.”
“I don’t know if you’re joking or deadly serious.”
Jayce grinned. “And that’s the man you fell in love with. Admit it.”
Now it was Yo-Han’s turn to chuckle. “You have me-“ He paused as a message light flashed on the holotable.
Quickly wiping the grin from his face, Jayce answered the message. The familiar face of Knight Tariku Noab Adani materialised over the table, looking professional and controlled. Can’t imagine what the poor bastard is going through, Jayce considered. Watching everything he believes in coming crashing down around him. “Knight,” Jayce nodded.
“Commander Wakinshaw,” he replied. “We have Wolf units heading towards your location. It appears to be headed by elements of Beta Galaxy.” As he spoke, the display table lit up with new icons, representing the force coming in from the east.
Damn, that’s a lot faster then I had expected, Jayce realised. Between the Wolves advances in Russia, Greece and Germany, we’re about to run out of room. “Understood. What are your orders?”
“We have a chance to strike a serious blow,” the Knight simply replied.
Jayce couldn’t help but grin a little. “Now I’m interested,” he nodded, sparing a glance to Yo-Han. “Tell me more.”
-----
Outside Krakow, Poland
Terra
Republic of the Sphere
T+50
The ruins of an old factory, the relic of some long-ago conflict, served as a perfect shelter for Jayce’s Koschei. Concealed by a combination of the existing rubble and overgrowth, as well as camo netting, the sixty-five ton BattleMech seemed almost invisible to the outside world. Other members of the Red Right Hand were situated nearby, concealed by a variety of means.
“They’re coming.” A brief message from one of the scouts, delivered by a hardline communication. Every precaution had been taken to prevent accidental discovery through intercepted message or other such giveaways. This was what they were good at, moves they had pulled off so many times before.
But never once like this, with the odds so heavily stacked against them.
Limited only to passive sensors, he had at best a loose idea of what was coming. As if that was not enough, there was still every chance that the Wolves could discover what was going on before the time was right. They could find a hardline, or a loose bit of camo netting or simply stumbling into one of his units. Good thing I’m a gambling man, Jayce wryly reminded himself as he glanced at his display screen.
Target markers approached, little more than indistinct blobs that had little clue to their identity. This is it, he told himself as he tensed up, fingers posed over switches. Any moment... now!
He hammered a toggle in his cockpit as he called out over his command channel. “All units, we are go!” As he shouted, his Koschei lumbered to life, rubble and debris falling away from the BattleMech as it emerged from its crypt.
A Woodsman had passed right by him moments ago, giving him a perfect first target. Before the blocky BattleMech knew what was going on, he had lashed it with its lasers, carving armor from its rear in vicious swathes. As it staggered from the attack, he struck out again, this time using his BattleMech’s massive claws to cleave into its wounded hide to devastating effect. One of the claws came away trailing a string of components with it; moments later, the Woodsman simply collapsed to the ground like an abandoned puppet.
Around him, other members of the Red Right Hand, both BattleMechs and battle armor, emerged from hiding and opened fire on their opponents. They were not alone, as more battle armor units and a bright yellow Pack Hunter joined them, tearing into the Wolf flank.
As the Woodsman collapsed, a Ryoken turned to face its killer. Shots from the hunchbacked ‘Mech seared into his side, worrying the armor but not yet penetrating it. His reply did about the same, slicing protection away from its body but not yet worrying the internals. During the exchange, the Clan warrior had turned and begun to back off, clearly wary of what had happened to their counterpart.
But not wary enough.
Yo-Han’s Infiltrator Mk II squad leaped out of the rubble, quickly latching on to the Ryoken’s legs before they knew what was going in. There was an explosion, with the Ryoken suddenly lurching to the right as the squad disabled several of its actuators.
Jayce took advantage of the opening, firing his jump jets and leaping at the damaged Wolf ‘Mech. It fired its lasers again in an effort to ward him off, but they mostly tracked below the Koschei’s arc. Shots sliced armor from its legs and lower torso, but did little to stop what was coming. Jayce’s own lasers danced across the Ryoken’s torso, further scoring the armour.
As he came down, Jayce again struck out with his claws at his opponent. One of them cleaved into the shoulder, but the second had a more immediate effect. The weapon smashed through the Ryoken’s canopy, shattering it and the MechWarrior within in a gruesome display.
More shots hit the Koschei as the Wolves continued to pull around and refocus their attention. Jayce quickly saw his damage display light up in a cautionary yellow, pulling back to try to minimise his own exposure. “They’re regrouping,” he called out over his command channel. “Don’t give them a chance.”
Stomping on his jump jets again, Jayce vaulted behind the ruined building that had previously been his shelter. Several shots intended for him tore into the building, doing little more than rearranging the rubble. Taking the chance, Jayce returned fire, splashing a Fenris with laser fire. A moment later, the Wolf ‘Mech lurched forward, reeling from a particle cannon shot to the back.
“Thanks for the assist,” he called out, giving a nod to the Knight’s Pack Hunter before both ‘Mechs broke off into runs. The Red Hands’ BattleMechs continued to engage their enemies, while battle armor suits, both Red Hand and Republican, did their best to take advantage of the situation. However, far from being thrown by the situation, the Wolves seemed to be quickly adapting and turning it around.
“They’re stalling,” Yo-Han called out over his command channel, the crackle of weapons fire audible in the background.
“For what?” Jayce asked as he continued to run, firing at the damaged Fenris as he did. While wounded, the Clan ‘Mech was also remaining mobile and clearly trying to avoid his deadly claws. A squad of Simian suits opened up on the Fenris, their recoilless rifle shots smashing into its damaged armor, distracting it for a moment.
He shifted forwards, using the opening to get close to his opponent, exchanging more fire with it. More hits further worried his armor, with yellow warnings turning an angry red. The Fenris fared little better, the shots scoring deep scars into its flank while leaving it open for further attack. Before it could go any further, a PPC shot tore through its side, sending the boxy ‘Mech crashing to the ground.
“Nice,” Jayce commented, his Koschei giving a thumbs-up to the Republic Pack Hunter. However, he couldn’t help but feel that there was something else going on here.
-----
By all rights, Tariku should have been encouraged by the success of the attack. His forces and the mercenaries had caught the Wolves by surprise, and thrown their rear ranks into disarray. Comm reports confirmed that other areas of their flank were now being engaged with other mercenaries and militia forces, leaving them unable to manoeuvre. And while he had no illusions about destroying the Wolf Galaxy, he also knew that their objective was to wear them down and keep them busy, both of which they were successfully doing.
But so far the Wolves had shown themselves to be adaptable and able to respond to whatever the Republic had thrown at them. It was a truth that made him worry what was going to happen next.
He sprinted away from the downed Fenris, his Pack Hunter surging across the battlefield as he sought a new target. A Blood Reaper presented itself, the heavy Wolf BattleMech already damaged by several other strikes. He lashed out at it with his particle cannon, the shot stabbing into its side and blasting through the already damaged armour. His lasers followed through, further savaging its flank.
Staggered but not out of action, the Blood Reaper turned to fire, responding with both of its particle cannons and a pair of heavy lasers. Only one of the cannons hit home, but it was enough to incinerate the Pack Hunter’s left arm. The force of the blow twisted his ‘Mech, with Tariku fighting the controls every step of the way to keep himself up.
Before the Wolf MechWarrior could follow up, a squad of Republic battle armor emerged from the rubble behind it, opening up with their SRM launchers. Before they hit it, however, they erupted, covering the Blood Reaper in a thick gel that immediately burst into flames. The Reaper staggered forwards, its systems overloading under the combined heart from its weapons fire and the inferno gel. Tariku couldn’t help but wince at how the MechWarrior inside would be feeling under the heat.
Not that he had any time for sympathy. Ignoring his own heat for a moment, he opened fire again with his remaining weapons. The particle cannon and laser further assaulted the Blood Reaper, drilling through its weakened armour, shredding what little protection remained on its side. Its reply was a barrage of particle cannon and laser fire that smashed hard into Tariku’s Pack Hunter, eating away at the armor over its chest and side. Grunting, he twisted with the impacts, doing his best to keep his damaged BattleMech moving.
Any victory the Wolf MechWarrior may have felt was short-lived. Moments later, the right side of the Blood Reaper erupted into a ball of flame as it was torn apart from within, sending shards of metal and debris flying. Ammunition explosion, he figured. Between the infernos and his weapons fire that was going to happen.
Sprinting away from the disabled ‘Mech, he took a moment to assess the situation. “Sunstorm, report in,” he announced over the command channel as he looked around for his next target. There was still something not right, and he needed to know.
“Two-one here,” Naja’s voice crackled out over the channel. “Mobility kill on a Vulture.” Most of the other reports were similar; his troops were holding their own, but the Wolves were refusing to back down for whatever reason.
That clarification came a moment later. “This is three-seven,” one of the Aeron pilots reported. “Fresh contacts; Clan ‘Mechs coming from the south.”
That was it, he realised. “All units, this is Sunstorm Lead. Disengage, now!”
-----
“Do what now?” Jayce called out as his Koschei leaped past a battered Tundra Wolf. Shots from its arm weapons sliced into his own ‘Mech, stabbing through the already weakened armour. “We have them.”
“Negative,” Tariku’s reply was succinct and clear. “We have additional Wolf units inbound. We must disengage now or we will be caught between them.”
“Damn it,” he snapped. “Not now.”
“We have no choice,” Tariku simply stated. “If we stay we will be destroyed.”
“I-“ he was cut off as a gauss round slammed into his ‘Mech, shattering the right arm. Glancing over the battlefield, he could see a near-fresh Warwolf advancing towards him, a blunt reminder of the situation. And it’s only going to get worse. “Understood,” he finally replied as he fired his jump jets, hoping to break contact with the two Clan ‘Mechs.
“This is Red Hand Lead to all units,” he called out over the unit’s command network. “Break contact now.”
“But we had a winning hand,” Yo-Han replied, the frustration in his voice audible over the sound of weapons fire around that.”
“Negative,” Jayce admitted. “We were bluffing, and they called us.”
-
Guest chapter by KayEmm
Wild Horses
Outside Redoubt São Paulo, South America
Terra
Republic of the Sphere
T+54
Max Klien’s Hierofalcon vaulted over the jungle canopy, its weapons spitting energy beams at a Republican Wolfhound. The shots drove through the BattleMech’s chest, eagerly devouring the sensitive components within. Mortally wounded, the ‘Mech staggered before its head launched away, the pilot making their escape.
“Good kill,” Kia Malthus commented as her own Jade Phoenix soared over the greenery below, before coming down in among the trees. Her Trinary, and their support elements, had been chasing the Republican forces into the jungles following their attempts at a flanking attack. As frustrating as such a chase should have been, she instead found to be exhilarating. The Republicans were proving to be a canny foe, giving her the challenge that she so craved.
A pair of Skadi VTOLs passed overhead, searching for their prey. In the distance, she could see Vic Roshak’s Turkina pushing through the jungle along with other members of her own Star. The heavier BattleMechs were hampered in pursuit of their lighter foes by the thick foliage, even allowing for their jump jets.
Her attention was caught as a new icon winked to life on Kia’s display; moments later it resolved itself with the identity of the newcomer. A Jupiter, a 100-ton BattleMech, was approaching her position, having apparently broken off from the rest of the Republic force. That it was a Jade Falcon design was an irony not lost on her.
“Whoever you are, you are clearly not a part of Primero Regimento,” she called out over the loudspeaker. Zooming in her display, she could see that the Jupiter was sporting a dramatic orange and black scheme. “In fact, I would say that you are something different altogether.”
“Aff,” the pilot called back. “I am Knight Erzhan Fletcher.”
“Fletcher, eh,” Kia considered. “I would wager then that you are from the Republic's Hell’s Horses enclave, quiaff?”
“Aff.”
“Hm, I did not think that there were any of you left.”
“Then perhaps I am the last,” Erzhan admitted. “But I will not let that prevent me from stopping you.”
If Kia’s Jade Phoenix had hands, then then would have been flexing in response to Kia’s anticipation. “Bargained well and done, Knight Erzhan Fletcher.”
A message came in from Vic Roshak. “Do you want us to handle this, Star Captain?” he asked.
She glanced at the display, noting the positions of the rest of her Star. “Neg. Continue your pursuit. I have this.”
The two massive BattleMechs faced off with each other for a moment, their MechWarriors clearly sizing each other up. He is heavier than me, and has more armor and firepower, Kia assessed, but I have mobility. That was what would make all the difference to the fight.
She charged towards him, firing her jump jets just as she heard the warning tones from the missile lock. His weapon fire tore through the space her Jade Phoenix had occupied, missiles and particle cannons tearing into the jungle behind her. As she reached the peak of her arc, Kia returned fire with her own PPCs, the twin blue bolts stabbing at the Jupiter. One of them speared into its shoulder, but the other went wide.
The Jade Phoenix landed and immediately broke into a run, twisting to one side of the heavier Republican ‘Mech. Erzhan pushed forward in response, twisting to face her before unleashing another torrent of fire. This one was somewhat more effective, with shots hitting her on the flank and leg as she ran. Rocked by the impacts, Kia simply rode them out before she responded.
This time she opened up with her entire arsenal, the twin PPCs slamming into the Jupiter’s side. They were followed up by her HAG, the weapon unleashing a furious storm of metal at the enemy ‘Mech, further eating away at its depleted armor. She didn’t hang around to see the full effects of her assault, however, once more firing her jump jets and twisting the Jade Phoenix away from its opponent.
Not to be caught flat-footed, the Jupiter broke into a lumbering run, closing the distance between the pair of them as best it could. It opened up again, this time substituting its autocannons for the long-range missiles. Streams of fire lashed out at her ‘Mech as he expertly compensated for both her movement and his. This time they had dramatic effect, peeling armour away from her BattleMech’s flank. A warning alarm told her that he’d breached the armor, threatening its systems.
Good, but not enough, she simply considered as she kept the BattleMech upright through the punishment that it was taking. She rippled off her own response, letting loose her entire arsenal on the Jupiter. Both PPCs struck home, mirroring the damage it had inflicted on her by obliterating the last of the armor on its side. The HAG followed up, eating into its remaining protection. She didn’t hang around to measure the results, leaping away once more, twisting the Jade Phoenix in the air with a grace that belied its mass.
The pair of them opened up again, but the Jupiter’s volley was somewhat less spectacular than before. It only fired one of its PPCs, suggesting that the other one had been taken out by her attack. That did not make it any less dangerous, as shots stripped more of the already depleted armour from the Jade Phoenix’s hull. More warning lights went off, Kia ignoring them as she bought her ‘Mech down in the Jupiter’s flank.
Her response was more dramatic, her fire focused on the Jupiter’s already damaged side. The two particle cannons tore into its damaged structure, eagerly devouring what they found within. As it stumbled, the HAG shredded through what was left, hitting something sensitive within. An explosion tore through its side, sending its arm flying away while driving the huge BattleMech to its knees.
“You fought well, Knight Erzhan Fletcher,” Kia commented as she landed, her weapons pointed at the damaged Jupiter. “But you are defeated. Withdraw now, and I will spare your life.”
“Not what I had expected from a Falcon,” Fletcher admitted, “I thought you had no mercy to offer, quiaff?”
“Neg,” she simply admitted, even if her weapons were still trained on him.
“Very well,” The Jupiter managed something that could be considered a bow. “Bargained well and done, Kia Malthus.”
As the wounded assault ‘Mech backed off, Kia couldn’t help let out a sigh of relief. That went better than I could have hoped for, she admitted to herself before opening up her command channel. “Star Captain to all units. Disable those you can, but if they run then let them,” she ordered. “Repay honor with honor.”
-
Log #55
Bianka Messier: This is an unexpected development.
Erzhan Fletcher: Aff. I had expected her to finish me off there and then.
Messier: And while I am glad that she did not, I am also surprised by her restraint.
Fletcher: If it helps, the same level of restraint was shown by many of the others in Delta Galaxy. They let many of the 31st escape into the jungles rather than kill them or take them prisoner.
Messier: Which would have amounted to the same thing.
Fletcher: Aff. And I am not sure this was an entirely top-down thing either, but rather something that many of their officers were doing individually.
Messier: Interesting.
Tariku Noab Adani: If I may, this corresponds with the behavior I saw from Delta in Germany.
Messier: Which then goes back to the intel we had on Delta Galaxy to begin with. And even now that the stakes are this high, they are willing to defy their Khan.
Noab Adani: You think we can use this?
Messier: Definitely, especially given what’s next.
Luke Vasili: You’ve been over Redburn’s plan?
Messier: I have.
Vasili: Your thoughts?
Messier: It covers a lot of the ground that we’ve been discussing regarding the leadership of both Clans.
Fletcher: Aff. Neither will admit it, but both are cults of personality. It is one thing for a Clan to follow a strong leader, but both Malvina Hazen and Alaric Ward have taken it to another level. And it shows.
Messier: Your analysis on likely outcomes?
Noab Adani: Even if we do not spark a conflict, if we are successful we will hurt both Clans at a level beyond just removing their leadership.
Fletcher: Much of the savagery we’ve seen from the Falcons comes from Hazen. Without her, we could see someone more moderate take control and reign in their excesses. Look at Knight Noab Adani and my own experiences fighting Delta Galaxy.
Vasili: And with the Wolves I think we could hurt them even more. Starting as early as Sydney, we’ve seen them smash their heads into our defenses in futile attacks time and time again before one of their ‘brain trust’ shows up and offers an elementary-level plan. Honestly, it feels like the Wolves’ individual commanders can’t think for themselves and rely on Alaric and his lackeys to do that for them.
Messier: It does.
Fletcher: And I have worked with you long enough to hear a ‘but’ coming, quiaff.
Messier: Indeed. This could go wrong in a number of ways, and no matter what, it is going to get a lot of good people killed.
Vasili: That is the risk all of us take for the Republic.
Messier: I know. And all I can do is wish you all the best.
-
Guest chapter by KayEmm
From the personal correspondence of Tariku Noab Adani
Naja,
I am writing this to you not as a superior or a fellow Republic officer, but as a friend. We have served together for many years now, and it has been a pleasure to work alongside you during that time. Even if our meeting was born of a time of crisis, I have enjoyed our time together. You are a good soldier and a fine leader, but above all else, you are a good person. Your dedication and compassion has been inspiring; your care for your soldiers exemplary. We could not have achieved all that we did without you. And I can think of nobody who I would rather have fighting alongside me, or at my back.
I have volunteered for a special mission, one that will hopefully save the Republic from the dire situation we find ourselves in. By the time you receive this, it will have been launched; I have put it on a time delay for operational security. Regardless of the outcome, I am expecting that casualties will be high, and there is the very real possibility that I will be among the dead. While I know that is the risk we all take when we go into battle, this time around the stakes are far higher.
None the less, even knowing this, I gladly volunteered for this mission. My life is insignificant before the survival of the Republic, and the dream of one day restoring the peace that it created. For centuries, my family have defended their homes against invaders and tyrants, be they the fascists, Amaris or the Word. Now it is my turn to stop the Clans. I can only hope that I succeed.
I have given you command of Sunstorm for the time being. I know that you will prove to be a capable leader, and that you will do the best for them. You have always been willing to speak your mind and not afraid to let your thoughts be known, traits that have helped us so much in the past. While we have suffered losses, I feel that we can still be a useful asset in the battles yet to come.
Even then, I also know the risks. Should the worst come, seek out Knight Bianka Messier. She has made preparations against certain contingencies, ones that I hope we will never need. Should that happen, she will know what to do.
Hopefully we will meet again.
Knight Tariku Noab Adani
-
Old Regret
“Two minutes to drop,” the voice crackled over the Jupiter’s communications system.
“Roger that,” Erzhan Fletcher replied. “All units standing by.”
For the last time, he checked over his BattleMech, confirming that all systems were operational. With Brumby still undergoing repairs after his battle in Brazil, Erzhan had been issued a different Jupiter for this assignment. While of the same specifications as the BattleMech that he had piloted for years, it simply felt different to him. Its reactions were slightly different, the weight of its steps ever so slightly off, the feel of the controls in his hands so infinitesimally and yet noticeably different.
But the difference that most stuck out to him was the colours. It was painted in the green and black of the Jade Falcon’s Raptor Keshik, complete with the insignia of both the Keshik and the Clan. The same scheme was replicated across the rest of his Star, a perfect replica of the infamous Falcon command.
The rest of his unit were similarly dressed. A Shrike was in the bay next to him; he hadn’t been able to ascertain if the ‘Mech had been salvaged recently, or was a relic from Skye or elsewhere. Not that it really mattered, beyond it being perfectly suited for the role. A Thor II, Gladiator and Night Gyr rounded out the ‘Star’, each chosen as much for their capabilities as their being designs that would have been found in a Jade Falcon force.
Each one of their MechWarriors was one that he had known or worked with in past, but never like this. They had been a part of his training programs in Clan tactics and thinking, ones that had given key insights into their enemies. Now those skills were going to be used not only against the Clans, but also to emulate them.
Erzhan’s own background considered what he was doing to be dishonourable. But his loyalty to the Republic was more important.
“We are in position,” the DropShip commander called out. “T-minus ten to drop.”
The bay doors opened, Erzhan getting the briefest glimpse of the rocky terrain passing below the ship, leading towards a mountain city. Then came the sudden shudder of the DropShip releasing his BattleMech, followed by the freefall as it plummeted towards the earth below. He immediately fired his jump jets, slowing his fall as the ground rushed up towards him.
As he dropped, he could see movement ahead of him. A Star of BattleMechs, all wearing Clan Wolf colours and insignia. Perfect.
There was a bone-jarring thud the hundred-ton BattleMech landed, Erzhan immediately shaking it off. “Status?” he called out, getting a string of immediate all-clears from his unit. “On me,” he finished as he pushed the Jupiter forward, the huge machine taking thundering footsteps towards its targets. The others fell into place around him, an intimidating wall of metal.
As expected, the Wolf Star advanced, moving cautiously. The Warwolf at its head approached, its weapon arm raised as it to indicate that it had no hostile intent. “Jade Falcon forces,” the voice of its MechWarrior called out. “This territory is claimed by the Wolves through our treaty. Leave this area immediately.”
Heaviest ‘Mech of the Star, and a design usually handed out to ristars, Erzhan considered. Perfect.
“I have a message from our Khan,” Erzhan shouted back. Before the Wolf warrior could add anything else, he thumbed his trigger, the Jupiter unleashing a volley of PPC and autocannon fire on the Wolf ‘Mech. Caught unawares, it reeled under the devastating impact struggling to stay on its feet. Not that it mattered, as the rest of the Star also targeted it, tearing the Wolf BattleMech apart.
“Our treaty is over, stravag curs!” Erzhan called out as the wreckage of the Warwolf crashed to the ground. He pushed forwards, advancing on the rest of the Wolf Star. Several shots struck his Jupiter, the thick armour holding under the assault. In reply, he opened up on the next available target, ignoring the heat build-up as he went. Shots hammered into the enemy BattleMech as it tried to pull back. Wounded, it tried to return fire, its own weapons scarring the Jupiter’s thick armour but not penetrating it.
“They’re aware we’re here,” Erzhan commented over his command channel, the crackle of particle cannon fire in the background. “Continue our advance, and do not let up.”
The surviving ‘Mechs of the Wolf Star were in full retreat now, heading towards the Star. Already Erzhan could see other markers appearing on his tactical display, indicating other Republic units engaged with Wolf forces. He pushed the Jupiter forwards, continuing to chance the surviving Wolves. While there was no way that they could keep up with the faster enemy units, it didn’t matter at this point. The Wolves had no doubt identified them as a Falcon force, and were going to be reporting this unprovoked violation of their treaty.
Ahead of them, the Wolf forces were doing their best to use the buildings for cover against his troops. Behind them, clouds of smoke were emerging from the city, indicating the fighting that was already taking place. More shots leaped out to strike at the members of his Star, only to be met and responded to with a far heavier barrage. Some of the shots tore into the buildings, while others smashed into their targets.
Erzhan fired his jump jets, the Jupiter taking to the air to push uphill towards the objective. As he leaped, he opened up again with his weapons, shots smashing into the broad back of a Linebacker. The Wolf ‘Mech shuddered under the attack, but managed to retain its footing despite the broad rents torn in its armour.
He came down close to their front lines, the other ‘Mechs of his Star joining him. Charging ahead, he opened up again on the Linebacker as it tried to respond, the two ‘Mechs engaging in a vastly unequal exchange. One of the shots tore through the Jupiter’s side, setting off warning alarms as it shattered a heat sink. In response, Erzhan’s volley shattered the Linebacker’s leg, sending the blocky OmniMech crashing to the ground.
Before it could rise, he charged towards the fallen Linebacker. A twist of the controls bought its blocky foot down on the downed BattleMech’s cockpit, crushing it with a sickening screech of twisting metal. Forgive me, Erzhan told himself, sparing the sight only the shortest glance to confirm its destruction.
“All units,” he ordered. “We’ve opened a path. Take the target.” For the Republic, he quietly added.
-
Guest chapter by KayEmm
Sunset
Tariku Noab Adani knew that his death was close.
There was no hiding from the fact. Even as it continued to move, his Pack Hunter’s cockpit was filled with warning alarms as system after system failed. He wasn’t doing much better; the sweat from the burning heat of the cockpit was combining with the blood coming from the cut to his forehead, and that was the least of it. His breaths were coming hard and heavy, his fractured ribs pressing against his side.
And yet, he knew that he could not give up.
His BattleMech continued to run, despite the heat coming from its cracked reactor shielding. Ignoring the warnings, he opened fire with his PPC, the last functioning weapon he had. The shot speared into the side of an already wounded Jade Hawk, tearing through the open rents in its armour. The birdlike ‘Mech reeled, then crashed down to the ground with a shuddering thud.
Not that he had any time to celebrate his success. More fire came back at him and the survivors of his star. A PPC shot tore through Saker’s Wulfen, shredding its entire right side. The wolf-headed BattleMech staggered for a moment, then abruptly erupted into brilliant flames as its damaged reactor went critical. There was a brief, blinding flash as what was left of the ‘Mech, as well as the man inside it, simply disintegrated.
Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the source of the attack. The damaged but still imposing form a Shrike, towering over the carnage around it as if defying everyone coming at it. He immediately knew who it was it was. Black Rose, the personal BattleMech of Malvina Hazen, the leader of the Jade Falcons. And their primary target.
Putting aside any concerns, he charged at the huge war machine. His PPC fired again, another spike of heat tearing through the cockpit as the Pack Hunter’s damaged systems struggled with the massive energies. The shot stabbed into the Shrike’s chest, tearing through damaged armour and consuming the structure within.
And yet, the Shrike remained standing.
Tariku slammed what was left of his jump jets, desperate to get away from the inevitable retaliation. The Pack Hunter took to the air as the Shrike turned to face him before unleashing its pair of PPCs in response. Both shots struck home, smashing the Pack Hunter out of the air. As the BattleMech hit the ground, Tariku was smashed against the cockpit, a short, sharp shock running through his body.
His vision swam as he tried to get to the controls, but his arms didn’t want to respond. Glancing around the cockpit, he could hear the warning sirens and see the damage lights, but none of them seemed to make sense any more. It was a blur of light and sound that was immediate, and yet seemed so distant and remote.
The only thing he could make out was the Shrike, the looming form of the ‘Mech towering over him, its malicious intent obvious. He tried to fight with the controls and get his Pack Hunter upright, but his limbs were like lead; heavy and lifeless, with every move feeling like he was swimming in mud.
There was a crack. A gauss shot hit the Shrike in its birdlike head, snapping it hard to one side. The massive ‘Mech stood there for a moment, as if stunned, then simply collapsed backwards.
Tariku slumped back in the cockpit as darkness crept into the edges of his vision. We did it, he told himself, a smile managing to make its way to his face as he faded.
-
Terra Incognito
Northern Italy
Europe, Terra
Republic of the Sphere
T+56
It’s been a long time since I did this, Bianka Messier considered as she checked over the systems of her Doloire one last time. And I wish I did not need to do it again.
Her BattleMech was waiting in an underground bunker alongside other Republic units, assembled in the Swiss Alps for this moment. The huge machines loomed in the darkness, their shapes lost in the shadows despite their size. They had been moved here on standby, awaiting the right time to leap into action. All that was needed was the order to go.
It was that last point that bothered her the most, as Bianka knew what they were waiting on. Right now, there were forces already in play, fighting and dying to deliver a crippling blow to their opponents. It was that thought that occupied her mind; not just that it was her fellow Knights, but that the force included two of her friends, both of which had gone into their missions fully knowing the odds of their survival.
It was a duty they had both willingly chosen. For the Republic. For the dream.
“All units,” a voice came over the command channel, its tone clear and concise. “Move out.”
Without a moment’s hesitation, she powered up her Doloire, the automated systems quickly running through the checklist. As soon as she had a green light, she stepped forward, heading up the ramp towards the surface. Another ‘Mech emerged besides her, the blocky form of Keyhan Beziz’ brightly-coloured Lament, striding forwards with the same purpose.
Other ‘Mechs were emerging from their own shelters, forming up into their units as they advanced. Many of them were decorated in a mismatched collection of schemes, the remnants of various units that had fallen so far in the defence of Terra. But in among them were ones wearing a far more distinctive scheme; black, decorated with charred skeletons.
Stone’s Revenants. One of the strongest, most storied regiments in the Republic Armed Forces.
We have only a small window to act, she grimly reminded herself as her BattleMech pushed forwards across the rocky terrain. We have to make their sacrifice count.
Reports came in of contact with Wolf forces; little more than drips and drabs who were seemingly unprepared and off-balance. Good, she told herself. We have them. As enemy indicators began to fill her tactical display she pushed her throttle open, the Doloire advancing to its full speed to close in on the enemy. Keyhan’s Lament remained in step at her side, ready for whatever lay ahead.
She dropped her reticle onto the first target that presented itself, a hunchbacked Ryoken that was in the centre of a group of enemy BattleMechs. Her reticule flashed gold to indicate her target was in range, with Bianka thumbing the trigger a moment later. Her two large pulse lasers let fly with pulses of brilliant ruby light that sliced armour from her target’s hull, leaving it staggering. A moment later, her gauss rifle added to the assault, slamming into its side.
The Ryoken staggered under the impacts, but managed to retain its footing, although this proved to be only a temporary situation. The brilliant flares of a pair of particle cannon shots smashed into the Wolf ‘Mech, blasting through what little armour was left over its side before tearing an arm away from the body. Unbalanced by the combination of the force of the blows and the loss of the limb, the Wolf ‘Mech crashed down hard to the ground.
That seemed to be enough to snap the Wolves around it out of their confusion and into action. Laser, cannon and missile fire flew back at the attackers, but even then it was more opportunistic and lacking in focus. Several shots found their mark on Bianka’s BattleMech, doing little more than scoring armour. She did not let the hits distract her, instead continuing to push forward.
As they collected their wits, the Wolves responded in kind, with several of their ‘Mechs running towards the Republic lines. More fire flew between the two forces as they closed in, but with a marked difference in its quality. Bianka, and those around her, were focused and directed, putting shots onto those targets that mattered the most. On the other side, the Wolves were confused, simply lashing out at whatever they could reach.
A Fenris charged towards her, its MechWarrior seemingly unconcerned that her ‘Mech weighed nearly twice as much as theirs. Its PPC stabbed into her leg, ripping through the armour but not penetrating it. Sparing barely a glance at her damage display, Bianka sent back her own reply; while her gauss rifle went wide of the target, her two pulse lasers carved armour off its front. Despite the assault, the Clan ‘Mech managed to keep its footing and continue its charge.
Not that it got a chance to do anything else. A PPC blast tore through its arm, destroying the weapons within. The Wolf BattleMech reeled under the attack before quickly reversing course and sprinting back towards its lines. Sparing a quick glance to Keyhan, Bianka gave a silent nod of appreciation for his assistance before continuing her advance.
The Fenris was not the only one pulling back either. Other Wolf BattleMechs were in retreat, heading towards a nearby village, either to regroup or simply find some cover. As they did, the Republic forces continued to press them, taking shots at whatever came into range. More than one Wolf fell on the rocky hills as they tried to make a break for it, cut down by the fire of the Republic forces.
“Do not give them a chance to regroup,” Bianka simply ordered over her command channel, her tone clear and level. There was a part of her that simply wanted to charge forwards and cut down every Wolf she saw as retribution for all they had done, but that was kept in check. Erzhan and Tariku’s memories would not be served by my dying here to avenge them, she admitted to herself. Or Bors’.
A warning alarm grabbed her focus a moment before two flights of missiles crashed down onto her BattleMech. The Doloire rocked under the impact, but maintained its footing. Armour holding, she considered as she looked over the damage display. Seems like one of them wants to make a stand.
Her tactical display couldn’t immediately identify the source of the attack, showing only the contracting cluster of Wolf target icons. None the less, she continued her advance along with the rest of the Republic force, wary for her would-be attacker. She did not have long to wait either; another flight of missiles hammered her BattleMech, continuing to worry her armour.
But as damaging as the attack had been, it also gave away its source. A Wolf BattleMech in among the buildings. At first she took it for a Mad Cat Mk II, but its shape was sharper and sleeker. More importantly, it was not registering on her sensors.
I know you. Intelligence had identified a new OmniMech among the invading forces, an assault machine clad in decidedly un-Clanlike stealth armour tagged as Alpha Wolf.
“Clear me a path,” she ordered. That is almost certainly their commander, she considered. And as long as they have range and cover, we cannot touch it. She pushed her Doloire forwards, opening fire on her opponent as she did. While her gauss rifle went wide, her large lasers made their mark, chewing armour off its side.
The Wolf responded with another flight of missiles, then added in bursts from its arm-mounted autocannons. Impacts rocked the Doloire, smashing into its already damaged armour and leaving the already-battered BattleMech on its back foot. Alarms sounded inside the cockpit, warning Bianka of depleted armour and the risk of structural or systems damage. She knew her opponent possessed all the advantages in this battle, but that would not stop her. I cannot give up, she grimly accepted. The Republic must survive.
She closed down the distance, doing her best to reduce the advantages offered by the Alpha Wolf’s stealth armour while also finding cover of her own. Ignoring the heat for the moment, she opened up with an alpha strike on the enemy ‘Mech. This one was more successful, with all four lasers finding their mark, searing armour off the Clan OmniMech’s side. The gauss rifle added to the damage, all but obliterating the armour over its flank.
Not that she had a chance to savior the victory. The Alpha Wolf’s missiles and autocannon fire smashed into the side of her BattleMech, tearing into the left arm. The limb disintegrated under the assault, with shells further chewing into the protection remaining on the torso. More alarms went off in the cockpit as her BattleMech stumbled, with Bianka doing her best to keep it upright under the assault.
The Wolf BattleMech turned to face her, leveling its weapons at her BattleMech.
And then it lurched forwards as a pair of particle cannon blasts smashed into its flank, tearing through the remaining armour. Keyhan’s Lament circled around the Clan ‘Mech, weapons leveled at it.
“Hey Wolf,” he spat over his loudspeaker. “This one’s for Tyra Drummond.” He fired again, this time unleashing the Lament’s full arsenal. More shots smashed into its side, shredding an arm in retribution for the one Bianka had lost. Its lasers followed through, slicing into exposed systems and further wounding it.
It retaliated with its remaining weapons, keeping its attention on Bianka for the moment. Shells and missiles spattered against her depleted armour, wearing down the damaged protection but not piercing through it for the moment. Without flinching, she retaliated, her lasers chewing through the armour over its side and leg.
And then her gauss rifle simply smashed into the cockpit, pulverizing it and the pilot inside. Deprived of its control, the Alpha Wolf simply crashed to the ground.
“Thank you for the assist,” Bianka finally breathed.
“Least I could do,” he simply replied.
She took a moment to look over her tactical display. The Republic’s forces were continuing to advance, while the Wolves were pulling back. “We have them,” she finally managed. “Come on, we have more work to do.”
-
From the campaign journal of Star Colonel Don Cooper
I knew that the Falcons had become unhinged, but I did not expect the dezgra to stoop this low.
After dealing with the scattered forces in Poland and Germany, we had regrouped to organise ourselves to further advance into Western Europe. By this point, our conquests were bordering on those made by the Falcons, which was a potential risk. However, we had faith that the Falcons would honour our arrangement and not engage our own. And while there were reports of Falcon movements near our forces, we simply assumed that it was them preparing for their own next moves.
That was our mistake.
Reports came in that Falcon forces were engaging our own command elements in both Germany and Italy. Next thing we knew, the Khan, saKhan and General Chance Vickers were all reported as dead or incapacitated by their honourless strike. And while the dezgra Falcons had all been killed, they had struck a savage blow.
Before we could regroup, we were under attack. However, this time it was not the Falcons, but rather the Republic. Much like in Vietnam, they crawled out of the woodwork to hit us when we were at our most vulnerable; a cunning move, even if it was an opportunistic one. While we were trying to focus and redirect, we came under attack by no less than Stone’s Revenants, one of the most elite forces of the Republic army. This was no collection of half-wit surats taking advantage of our loss. This was war.
We were forced to give ground against them. Much like in Vietnam, we left too many good people behind. Star Captain Alvin Ward was killed in action along with many other warriors; each one of them as brave and capable as a Wolf could be. It made the Falcon’s betrayal hurt even worse. They killed the best of our Clan, but it was the Republicans who inflicted the real losses.
As we pulled back, we came under attack from other forces, ones that we couldn’t immediately identify. Their job was to keep us unbalanced and unable to react, and it worked. We had to keep going and keep pulling back, not pausing for anything. It took us hours before we were finally able to regroup.
This is what will happen when you fight a stranger in the Alps.
The Thirteenth is still in fighting shape. I divided what was left of Star Captain Alvin Ward’s Trinary among the rest of the survivors, bringing them up to strength. We are going to need it, because I am going to kill every single dezgra Falcon I see.
-
Turnabout
Interviewer: Operation Nighthawk was the Republic’s effort to turn the Jade Falcons and the Wolves against each other. Where were you during the attack?
Anrynn Pryde: Ah yes, Nighthawk. In many ways it should have been a sign of what was to come.
Interviewer: How so?
Pryde: The Republic were clearly on the back foot at this point. We had taken Geneva, and advanced in South America and Africa, while the Wolves had also made significant advances across Terra. While the Republic’s forces had fought bravely, their efforts had ultimately been futile. In many ways, a move like this should have been expected.
Interviewer: An attempt to shatter the cease-fire between your two Clans.
Pryde: Do not get me wrong, I can understand the Republic’s position. Most anyone would have expected our two Clans to fight each other from the moment we set foot on Terra. It is our way, after all.
Interviewer: And yet, that cease-fire had held.
Pryde: Aff. Both of our Clans had been fighting in different territories against different forces so far. It was only in Europe that our advances had begun to close in on each other. Even then, we had been careful not to stray to close to each other’s forces.
Interviewer: Would you say that there were tensions between the two Clans?
Pryde: Of course there were. Our Clans had been enemies ever since their founding. It would be fair to say that each of us only tolerated the other’s presence. And while we were both fighting the Republic, we both knew that the real battle would be against each other.
Interviewer: So when it appeared that Wolf forces had attacked your leadership, it was not a surprise.
Pryde: Aff. There were many of us that had expected the Wolves to make such a move, especially as the campaign had reached such a critical moment.
Interviewer: But wouldn’t such a move be seen as dishonorable?
Pryde: Aff, but at the same time, consider that the Wolves have had a long history of making questionably honorable moves in the name of expediency. And Khan Alaric Ward had a reputation for doing such things, and had continued to do such during the Terran campaign.
Interviewer: So to bring it back, what was the situation like within the Falcon forces immediately after Nighthawk?
Pryde: Despite the incapacitation of both our Khan and saKhan, we were ready to fight. We had warning of the Republic’s treachery, and were not caught unaware like the Wolves were. Even then, the Republic threw their best at us, knowing that was what it would take to destroy us.
Interviewer: Stone’s Lament and Defenders.
Pryde: As well as an ad-hoc regiment made from what little was left of the forces that had faced us so far. In many ways, they were the most fierce, fighting to avenge their fallen comrades. The Republic’s forces pushed heavily into Alpha and Vau Galaxies, pressing hard against their efforts to hold.
Interviewer: What happened then?
Pryde: Epsilon soared in, swooping down like Falcons upon our prey. The Republic’s forces were thrown by our arrival, and could not hope to hold against us. Or attacks were ruthless and driven, determined to not only avenge our fallen leaders and save our fellow warriors, but to visit our wrath upon the Republic for their honourless actions. And for all their resolve, all their fury and all their desperation, the Republic’s forces could not hold. They fell back, their efforts ultimately rendered futile.
[Pause]
Pryde: Of course, the whole thing is strangely ironic when you think about it.
Interviewer: How so?
Pryde: Alaric Ward made a big show of denouncing the Republic for its honourless actions. When you think about the way things ended, you have to ask if he had any more honour than they did.
-
Guest chapter by KayEmm
From the Personal Journal of Jayce Wakinshaw
You know, I gotta give Devlin Stone this much. For a man who was so into the idea of peace, he really has balls.
Dressing up Republic forces as Falcons as Wolves to start a fight between the two Clans was a gutsy move. We’ve been hired to do similar jobs in past with false-flag operations, but never something that direct and bold. And, from the sounds of it, he almost succeeded to. We’re still getting scraps of information out, but it seems like a number of the leaders on both sides were killed or knocked out of action, and the two very nearly came to blows. And we wouldn’t have known about it if Alaric and Malvina didn’t broadcast the details on captured media.
But sadly, close is not enough in this game.
We regrouped with Sunstorm and other RAF forces around Paris. I noticed that Captain [Naja] Beniko was in charge of Sunstorm rather than Knight Noab Adani, who was nowhere to be seen. While Beniko didn’t say where he was or what had happened to him, you don’t have to be a genius to put it together. The poor bastard probably died trying to take down some high-ranking Clanner all while pretending to be one.
I hope he took a pile of those vat freaks with him.
We were placed under the command of Knight [Janella] Lakewood with a force that were definitely a mixed bag. On one side, we had Stone’s Revenants, Lament and Defenders, some of the best units in the entire damn Republic, bristling with all the best tech they had to offer. On the other were the First and Second Terran Irregulars, a pair of ad-hoc units made from the remnants of other destroyed Republic commands. It made for a pretty chilling statement of their losses so far.
Underscoring the point, I couldn’t find any of the other merc units we were fighting alongside in Poland and Germany. I guess we were the lucky ones.
As prepared as we were, I don’t think anyone expected what came next. We’d figured that the Falcons to attack the city as a part of their ongoing campaign against the region. But alongside their two Galaxies were four Galaxies of Wolves pushing in from the south. We could have held against one or the other, but not both. And while they were by no means coordinated, they also were out for blood.
Both Clans were ferocious and relentless in their approach. Neither was engaged in any sort of ‘honorable’ behaviour, instead massing fire at whatever targets they came across, or pounding our positions with artillery. Neither paid any attention to civilian casualties either, and while we had expected that from the Falcons, now it was the Wolves’ turn to show their ugly side.
We fought hard, but it wasn’t enough. The Red Right Hand were preying on the flanks of [Clan Wolf’s] Zeta Galaxy, doing our best to hit and fade in among the buildings and whittle down their numbers. We’d been doing a decent job of it too, but we found that somebody else had the same idea. Elements from Beta Galaxy managed to flank around us and tear into us as we were caught up with the Zetas.
I tried to pull us back, but those damn Wolves were relentless. There was one Coyotl that was out for my damn blood and wouldn’t let go of me. He managed to tear a huge chunk off of my ‘Mech including one of my arms, and there was nothing I could do to shake him. Best I managed was getting lucky when a squad of battle armor got a shot in and took out one of the Coyotl’s knees, which bought me an opening to pull back and get as much of my unit out as I could.
We didn’t get much of a break, unfortunately. We’d gotten to the Seine, only to get hit by the Falcons on our flank. No idea how they’d managed to flank us or get in so deep, but my focus was more on staying alive than anything else. This time around, fortune was on our side. A bunch of Wolves had broken through and, for whatever reason, started firing on the Falcons. That bought us a chance to pull out and get the hell away from Paris.
Our Droppers managed to get an opening to get us out of there and shuttle us over to North America. Not that it was much of a break; by the time we were done, the Hand were nearly spent. We have a lance of ‘Mechs left, all of which need a lot of work to get operational again. I’ve also been able to put together a full platoon of battle armor. Thank god, Yo-Han is among the survivors. Finally, both our fighters are still in the air for what its worth.
I have no idea what we’re going to do next. But one thing’s for sure; I’m not going to give up now.
-
Log #64
Bianka Messier: I do not know what is worse. That Alaric Ward thought that his stupid plan would work, or that Tara Campbell walked right into it.
Keyhan Beziz: And cost us our last redoubt in Europe, along with our last organised resistance.
Messier: I’d hoped that we’d be able to draw things out and slowly choke the Falcons and Wolves on Normandy, but that won’t happen now. Instead we lost the continent on a purely symbolic battle over a meaningless diversion.
Beziz: We still have active forces in Africa and South America.
Messier: Those are sideshows. We know it and the invaders know it as well. At best we’re tying up troops, but that’s it.
Beziz: So North America it is.
Messier: Aye.
Beziz: It almost feels like it was always going to come to this.
Messier: When you look at the historical precedents, it does. North America served as the headquarters for both Amaris and the Word, and was the last to fall in both cases.
Beziz: Not exactly a good omen, given how those conflicts ended.
Messier: It is not.
-
Coauthored with KayEmm
Last Rites
Los Angeles, North America
Terra
Republic of the Sphere
T+65
Irisz,
We have not spoken in far too long. I cannot blame the Blackout and all that came with it either; this was my choice. For too long I let my disapproval of Bors, his actions and his choice of career dominate my decisions, while forgetting that he was family. It was only after his death that I realised the depth of my mistake.
I cannot change the past, but I can prepare for the future.
The Republic is doomed. Of this I have no doubt. We have lost too much, and are now backed into a corner. Neither of our enemies will accept any sort of surrender or compromise; they want nothing less than conquest. And I know that they will then fight each other for Terra once we are done. I do not expect that I will live to see this happen either.
This package contains data that was harvested from the battle for Terra. BattleROMS, audio logs, reports and whatever else that I could get my hands on. Regardless of what comes next, the truth must be known before whoever comes next writes their own history. We made mistakes, but hopefully somebody can learn from them. Use this knowledge wisely.
I offer you both my wishes and my condolences, both of which are long overdue.
- Bianka Messier
Bianka finished the letter, saving it to the datapad. A few extra commands saw it verigraph locked, configured that only a single person would be able to access it. That person was one that she had not spoken to in two decades, and not seen face to face for even longer.
Handing off the datapad to a communications officer, she proceeded to the locker room to get changed. Emerging a few minutes later, she had traded her formal dress uniform for an advanced cooling suit, built from the best technology that the Republic had to offer. A neurohelmet was tucked firmly under her arm, ready to be connected to her BattleMech.
This was a moment she had hoped would never come, but that she was prepared for no less on a number of different levels.
She stepped out into the 'Mech bay, dwarfed by the armoured titans around her. For the moment, they were not her focus, with that instead lying on the people that had gathered there. She’d asked for each of them personally in order to address what was coming.
A Jade Falcon Galaxy was presently advancing towards Los Angeles, intent on conquest. If that was not enough, at their head was the Raptor Keshik, the personal unit of the Falcon Khan. That alone was a clear symbol not only of their determination, but of the bloodbath that was to come.
She stopped at the first group, a team of Republic soldiers in field fatigues. Many of them looked worn, and some showed clear injuries that had been treated with an eye for expediency and quickly returning them to the field. However, to a man, their eyes also burned with a fierce determination, one that made it clear that they would not simply lay down and die.
Bianka saluted their leader, a slight, blonde woman. They responded in kind, their salute crisp despite the clear strain she was under.
“Naja Beniko,” she nodded to the armoured trooper. “I can only offer my deepest condolences over the loss of Knight Tariku Noab Adani. I know that you served with him for the longest time, and that you two were friends beyond that.”
“Thank you,” Naja replied, a hint of uncertainty in her otherwise defiant tone. “Tariku believed in the Republic. He fought to preserve it, and would not have wanted anything else. He was a good man, and I was proud to serve with him.”
“As was I,” Bianka agreed. “You and your unit have all given exemplary service so far.”
“With all due respect, we are his unit,” Naja countered. “He created Sunstorm, and chose each one of us for it. We all agreed that we would be fighting not only for the Republic, but to honour his memory.” Any previous hesitation drained away, replaced with an iron determination.
“And I could not ask for more,” Bianka finished. With a small nod, she moved on.
The next group stood out from the others. Rather than Republic field uniforms, they were dressed in a ragtag collection of different kits. However, they shared the same combination of clear wear and angry determination that she had seen in the eyes of Beniko and her men. Bianka turned to their leader, a scruffy man who’s face was dominated by a prematurely graying beard.
“Captain Wakinshaw,” she nodded to the mercenary. “At this point, I have nothing left to offer you. We both know that there is only one way that this can end. You and your men have far exceeded all that we could have asked of you.” She paused a moment and took a breath. “I am releasing your unit from your responsibilities to your contract and to the Republic. You still have a window to escape the city before the Falcons close in.” Bianka took another breath. “All I can do now is thank you for your service and your efforts so far.”
“With respect, Lady Messier,” Jayce replied. “I talked about this with my men. We don’t care about the pay any more. All we want to do is take as many of those vat-bred bastards with us as we can.”
Bianka offered a grim smile. “Thank you,” she simply finished. “In that case, I wish you luck.” She extended her hand, Wakinshaw taking it and offering a firm shake in reply.
“I didn’t know what to expect when we were let though the Wall and bought here to Terra,” Jayce admitted, “but there was a part of me that couldn’t say no, regardless. Do I regret it? Probably. But I think I would have regretted it more if I’d simply said no.”
He glanced at the large man by his side. “We’re in this until the end, one way or another.”
Bianka offered a quick salute before moving on.
Near the end of the bay was a lone man, who like her was decked out in his cooling vest and other MechWarrior apparel. And like her, he wore the rank of Knight on his apparel. “Keyhan,” she offered as she approached, a friendlier tone in her voice. “As strange as this may sound, I am glad that you are here now.”
“I understand,” he replied. “But I know how you feel, and if it helps, I feel the same.”
“Thank you.”
Keyhan nodded. “You sponsored me, and supported me every step of the way. I would not be here now if not for you and your help, and I cannot thank you enough for that.”
“I merely did what I could,” she countered. “It was your hard work, your determination and your loyalty to the Republic that did it.”
“The dream,” he suggested.
“Of course.”
“And I would not have it any other way,” he continued. “Things may not have ended how I had hoped, but I could not have asked for anything else.”
“And I thank you for your devotion to that dream.”
He chuckled a moment. “It’s funny in a way. Here we are, two Knights at what will be the end of our careers, one way or another. I don’t think either of us have any illusions, but neither of us will give up.”
“We have more than that,” she added. “We’re both fighting for our families and their future.”
“We both have partners we will likely never see again,” he admitted.
“A sad truth.”
“And we both have relatives that are mercenaries that we never talk about,” he noted.
At that, Bianka had to chuckle. “When you put it like that, I suppose so.”
“Take care of yourself.”
“I’ll be fine,” he casually replied. “It’s the Falcons you need to worry about.”
She could see the strain behind his banter, but also knew better than to argue. Instead, Bianka gave him a crisp salute, which he replied to in kind.
Taking a breath, she moved on, headed towards the looming Doloire at the end of the bay. It was decked out in the black and silver that was iconic of the Knights, but otherwise lacked any adornment or distinctive markings.
Bianka stopped short of her BattleMech, turning to a Republic technician standing by it: the same man who she had handed the datapad off to earlier. “Captain Esquarra,” Bianka stated, snapping off a crisp salute.
“Knight Messier,” he replied, saluting in kind.
“At ease,” she nodded. “Did you get all of that?”
“Every last word.”
“Good,” she finished. “You have your duty. Dismissed.”
Esquarra gave another salute before turning and leaving. Within moments he was gone, blending into the crowd just as she had ordered him to. And, in accordance with his orders, he would not be at his station during the battle to come. Rather, he would be making his way out of the city with the information she had given him.
“It is all on you now,” she added to herself before turning back to face her BattleMech.
-
Burn, Hollywood, Burn
(With the anniversary of the Battle of Los Angeles coming up, I did some digging on the people involved with it. To my surprise, I found a few files that had somehow fallen from the cracks along the way. They’re minor matters, but they help us paint a more complete picture of the events that unfolded)
(I’ve presented the files as I found then, but also added my own commentary – RB)
Beniko, Naja
Captain, Republic Armed Forces
Killed in Action
Naja Beniko lead a small Republic Armed Forces unit identified in our records as ‘Sunstorm’ that had already seen action in Europe. During the Battle of Los Angeles, she worked with Knight Bianka Messier under her direct command. Between T+66 and T+70, Sunstorm made several probing attacks in an effort to locate and eliminate Jade Falcon artillery units in order to reduce the pressure on the city. While these efforts were unsuccessful, they did pave the way for subsequent moves.
Sunstorm was a part of the breakout from Redoubt Los Angeles on T+71, moving in a deliberate effort to flank the Jade Falcon forces. On T+72, Sunstorm launched an attack on Vau Galaxy’s command elements in an effort to eliminate them. The attack was ultimately unsuccessful, with Sunstorm’s forces completely destroyed. During the battle, Beniko was apparently killed when a building collapsed on top of her battle armour suit.
(Beniko’s death was never confirmed, but simply assumed. Given the circumstances the Jade Falcons had more important priorities than digging up a collapsed building in order to verify the death of one Republic soldier - RB)
Beziz, Keyhan
Knight
Killed in Action
Having been a part of previous fighting against Clan Wolf forces in China and Europe, Keyhan Beziz was a part of the Republic Forces within Redoubt Los Angeles. He led a group of XIV Triarii in their attempted breakout on T+71. His force managed to penetrate Vau Galaxy’s lines and advance into the San Gabriel mountains in pursuit of the Falcon forces. However, his detachment was caught in the counterattack by the Raptor Keshik and forced to fall back under enemy fire.
On T+72, Beziz was caught outside of the city limits by a larger Jade Falcon force. He elected to stand and fight in order to buy time for the rest of his unit to withdraw. His Lament engaged in a running battle with Vau Galaxy elements while unleashing a constant stream of fire on his targets. However, he suffered a catastrophic failure of his radical heat sink system as a result of overuse. Rather than withdraw, Knight Beziz continued to fight until his BattleMech’s fusion reactor underwent a containment breach that completely destroyed it.
Knight Keyhan Beziz was killed with the destruction of his BattleMech.
(Based on this information, I have found some historical footage of what I believe to be Beziz and his BattleMech. Forwarded to you for consideration – RB)
Tan, Yo-Han
Lieutenant, unidentified mercenary unit
Missing in Action
A battle armor officer, Yo-Han Tan was a part of an as-yet unidentified mercenary unit that was within Los Angeles during the battle. His battle armor unit was a part of a covert effort to eliminate Jade Falcon artillery units in order to relieve pressure on the Redoubt. While unsuccessful, these efforts helped determine the Falcon positions that aided the breakout effort on T+71.
Tan’s unit were a part of the running battles with Vau Galaxy before being ambushed by the Raptor Keshik. Over the course of the next two days his unit made several efforts at breaking out of the Jade Falcon encirclement, none of which succeeded. However, no records exist to verify the destruction of his unit or his death, leading to his status of missing in action.
(Yo-Han Tan is believed to have been a part of the same mercenary unit as Jayce Wakinshaw, but we don’t have enough evidence to verify that claim – RB)
Wakinshaw, Jayce
Captain, unidentified mercenary unit
Missing in Action
Jayce Wakinshaw was the leader of one of the unidentified mercenary units involved with in the Battle of Los Angeles. His unit suffered several losses during the bombardment of the Redoubt from T+66 to T+70, but it managed to retain coherency throughout. What was left of the unit took part in the breakout on T+71 and engaged in running battles with elements of the Jade Falcons’ Vau Galaxy over the course of the next two days.
By T+73, Wakinshaw’s unit had been whittled down to only a small number of survivors; his own BattleMech had been damaged in skirmishes with Jade Falcon forces. The unit made a final breakout attempt in an effort to escape to the south-east, but it was ultimately unsuccessful. Wakinshaw’s BattleMech was the last of the unit to be destroyed, but he was able to eject from it. His final fate is unknown.
(We don’t know what unit Jayce Wakinshaw was a part of; the Republic seems to have deliberately destroyed any record of it. Some sources have conflated it with Sunstorm, suggesting that Wakinshaw was a part of that unit, but that is likely a result of the two working alongside each other - RB)
-
Guest Chapter by Zogster
Dog Days
St Lawrence River, Canada, North America
Terra
Republic of the Sphere
T+74
All around Jean was chaos.
He had come to understand, early in the campaign for Terra and well before many others, that nothing would be simple. Any illusions he’d had of conventional, structured warfare had been shattered outside of Hong Kong. Further encounters with Republican forces had just reinforced one singular message – that this war was anything but conventional, and that the enemy would do anything to win.
Even if they had not directly engaged the disguised Republic forces, Operation NIGHTHAWK had sown confusion and disarray amongst his unit. The Republic counterattack had caught them off guard, further whittling down their numbers and aggravating the damage they had already endured. But now the remnants of Charlie, reduced to an undersized Binary, were scattered to the four winds under a devastating surprise attack.
Iota Galaxy had been advancing down the St. Lawrence River, advancing on Montreal. They were working alongside Beta Galaxy to locate the Republic command center and hopefully crush their resistance once and for all. However, mere moments before, Republic militia forces had sprung an ambush, leaving much of Iota flat-footed.
But not Jean. He had seen enough of the fighting to be ready, almost anticipating such a disaster. As soon as the first lasers and cannon fire broke out, he was in action, trying to rally Charlie who had already taken the brunt of the fire.
They were sitting ducks, and he knew it. There was clear terrain on either side of the river, but beyond that was scattered woodlands which made perfect cover for such an attack. And while he could make out the distant silhouettes of BattleMechs on both sides, most of the fire seemed to be coming from low to the ground. Tanks, most likely dug in and concealed, which would be a nightmare to extract.
Even as he accelerated his Tundra Wolf towards the treeline, a massed volley of long-range missiles struck out towards him. He turned and ran along the riverbank, hoping to evade. Instead, the flight fragmented, each missile separating into a cloud of micro-munitions that scattered themselves amongst his troops. Damage reports came in from all around him, accentuated by further weapons fire streaking out from both sides.
“Charlie all units, disperse! Do not give them mass targets!” Swarm munitions were rarely used, but this was the perfect situation for them. Hey keyed his own ‘Mech’s ECM, filling the airwaves with noise. He fired his own lasers into the distance, trying to track the source of the fire. The next volley that shot from the trees flew straight, peppering his side with impacts but stopping there. A small victory.
To his left he saw a pair of burning gold beams searing out into the trees, accompanied by the intense crackle of particle cannon fire. Beside him, his Starmate’s Blood Reaper came to a rest in the river, steam already billowing around its waist from the excess heat. Jean cursed under his breath and thumbed his comm to the Blood Reaper’s channel.
“Battle Two, get out of the water!” he yelled out.
“I can take them!” came the desperate response.
“You are a sitting –“
Whatever Jean was going to say was cut off by gauss fire, ironically proving him right. Paired shots slammed into the Blood Reaper’s torso, accompanied by more flights of missiles. The pilot struggled to keep his ‘Mech upright, but it almost inevitably teetered over, crashing onto its side and vanishing under the surface.
Jean looked again to the trees. Risking drawing more fire, he angled his own Tundra Wolf away from the river banks. He engaged the ‘Mech’s MASC, its burst of speed barely keeping him ahead of returning fire. Now he could make out their opposition. The silhouettes resolved into a Galahad and Crusader, supporting the militia tanks with their long-range fire. Their position was solid, but not insurmountable.
“Charlie all units, fire on my targets!” He was taking a chance here. Charlie had not been assigned a new Star Captain, but everyone knew Sloane was the favoured of the pair of them. Time seemed to stretch out as the two enemy ‘Mechs angled their fire towards him. He kicked in the jump jets, rocketing just past the Galahad’s gauss fire but suffering more missile detonations across his body. Red lights flashed on his damage display but he ignored them, focusing on bringing a targeting lock on the Crusader. He fired as he landed, the shock from impact throwing off his aim. Missiles streaked wide, but his lasers painted searing marks across its body and arm. It wasn’t enough, and he knew it.
But there was more to come. Weapons fire emerged from all around him; from the remaining Lobos in his Star, from remnants of Charlie Command and Recon, and even from Sloane’s Conjurer. Much went wide or impacted into the trees, but plenty still seared across the Crusader’s form. Jean took the brunt of its return fire, but it seemed more interested in keeping him at bay than taking him down. Already, the enemy heavy ‘Mech was withdrawing, fading back into the woods.
He turned his attention to the Galahad, only to find it already withdrawing. He keyed his missiles to their long-range payload and fired, backing them up with his pulse lasers. Laser fire seared across its leg, melting armour off to which the missiles seemed to reply, striking a vital actuator. The Galahad staggered but did not fall, although both Jean and its pilot could tell the ‘Mech’s mobility was severely reduced. Before he could press the advantage, a sudden burst from the back of its head signalled the pilot’s ejection.
Something wasn’t right. “Hold pursuit,” Jean warily said. The remnants of Charlie assembled around him. Sloane’s Hellhound pulled up alongside his ‘Mech, eyeing the retreating Crusader.
“We are letting them escape,” the other Star Commander said.
“They are not our objective,” Jean replied. “We are still meant to be heading to Montreal. Besides…” Something did not seem right. The enemy on this bank had collapsed too quickly. Where were the tanks that had opened the battle? Why was the other side so quiet all of a sudden? What were they waiting for?
By the time he realised what was happening, it was almost too late. “Charlie all units, into the trees!” He surged his Tundra Wolf forward, pushing the MASC once more to desperately find cover. All around him, Charlie had followed his lead without question, taking whatever shelter they could find. Within moments they were under fire. Missiles rained down around them, while particle and laser beams seared into the forest. Damage reports choked the comm channel, but he knew with heavy fire coming down on their exposed rears, it could have been so much worse.
Finally, he turned to take stock of the situation. Two more Battlemechs had emerged from the trees on the other side of the river, flanked by tanks. The imposing form of a Stalker took second place to a Mad Dog Mk III, painted in what he recognised as Skye tartan. What stood out most was the distinctive banner of a Republic Knight, no doubt the author of this ambush. The tanks with them were simple, but loaded down with long-range weapons. And between them was the river, cutting off their advance.
He recognised the handiwork. Too much of this felt like the situation in Volga. Lured into a trap by an enemy relying on long-range firepower. Had this Knight been behind that too? Even if not there physically, had they arranged the situation for Charlie Trinary to fall into? Somehow, deep in his gut, he knew it was so.
“What do we do?” came Sloane’s desperate question, as their ‘Mechs took shelter from the opponents’ fire.
To Jean, there was only one answer. They could retreat into the woods, following the Crusader and its support, but then they would never reach Montreal.
Likewise, trying to circle past the ambushers would take too long, and they could easily be followed from the other bank. For all they had given to the mission so far, they could not abandon it. He quickly took stock of their remaining ‘Mechs and equipment, and announced his conclusion.
“We strike. Jump-capable ‘Mechs are with me. We cross the river and get in under their minimums. All other units provide covering fire for our advance from here. I’ll take point.” He knew his Tundra Wolf’s armour was ragged in places, but it was still the heaviest of their units. If someone had to take the fire, he was the best choice.
“Move!” As he gave the order, he surged out of the treeline. His missiles and lasers shot across the river, searing into a bulky LRM carrier on the other side. More weapons fire from around him sent the enemy units scattering, breaking up their own return fire. The Tundra Wolf’s myomers whined in protest as he pushed them yet again, surging towards the river bank before taking flight. Alongside him, he saw the Hellhound leap into the air, with another pair of ‘Mechs behind them. From the corner of his eye, he spotted Priyanka’s Locust IIC fording the river with not inconsiderable speed.
Even in mid-air, he kept pouring fire down on his opponents. He keyed his missiles to their high-explosive payload and fired on the LRM carrier. The missiles’ detonations were rewarded with a massive secondary explosion deep in the bowels of the artillery vehicle, tearing it apart. A satisfied grimace was all he could spare as he angled his ‘Mech for landing.
The Mad Dog Mk III stepped up and fired, unloading all four of its massive missile bays into the incoming Tundra Wolf. Warheads detonated all across the airborne ‘Mech, blasting chunks off armour from its body. A stray pair found the Tundra Wolf’s arm, already stripped bare and impacted into one of the small-scale gauss rifles mounted there. The result was immediate as the magnetic coils tore themselves apart. Jean yelled out in pain as the feedback tore through his neurohelmet, throwing off his balance. He stumbled as the Tundra Wolf came down, losing his balance and sending it crashing to the pebbly shore. He felt his body snap against the cockpit’s restraints, a sharp stab of pain puncturing into his side.
For a moment, there was nothing he could do. He could barely make out the control panel in front of him, and all he could hear was a high-toned whine. Blackness crept in at the edges of his vision. It would be so easy to give in, to just lay there for a while and let everything else sort itself out. But annoying sounds kept creeping into the edge of hearing. The searing burst of laser fire. The roaring of missiles. The crackling of particle projectors. Detonations. Explosions. Screaming.
His men were out there. Fighting. For their mission, for their Clan. He had to be with them. He had to fight with them. Struggling through the pain, he took stock of the situation. The Mad Dog had abandoned him and was trading fire with the distant Lobos. Next to him, Sloane’s Hellhound caught the brunt of the Stalker’s laser fire, torrents of armour melting off its chest. And Priyanka’s Locust IIC cut through the smoke and circled a Schrek PPC carrier up close, harrying it with laser fire.
He pulled his Tundra Wolf to its feet, and angled it toward the Mad Dog. Advancing, opened fire with his lasers, cutting into the enemy ‘Mech’s side. Undeterred, the Knight backpedaled, keeping long-range fire on the distant Lobos. Their persistence was rewarded, as one was sent crashing to the ground. He was briefly distracted by another detonation nearby as the Schrek’s engine went critical, vaporising much of it in a brilliant blue burst.
Priyanka’s Locust accelerated away from the wrecked tank, but was abruptly intercepted. Laser fire from the lumbering Stalker cut into its leg, searing away even the reflective armour and snapping it like a twig. The Locust tumbled forwards, rolling head over heels before coming to a halt, its remaining leg twisted under its body. Jean watched in horror as the assault ‘Mech bore down on the toppled Locust, abandoning the gutted wreckage of Sloane’s Conjurer.
“No more!” Jean yelled out over his ‘Mech’s speakers. He punctuated his declaration with a volley of fire, high-explosive ATMs slamming into the Stalker’s broad flank. It stopped in place, rocking against the detonations, then swivelled to face him. He could see one side of the ‘Mech was relatively fresh, while the other bore scars not only from his missiles, but from Sloane’s laser fire.
“You are not taking any more of my people!” Jean declared. He punched the Tundra Wolf into top speed, straining the ‘Mech’s myomers to their limits once more. His Battlemech tore in close, circling around to the Stalker’s exposed flank faster than the assault ‘Mech could turn to face him. Jean kept a constant stream of fire on it, lasers and missiles tearing into the wounded side even as the Stalker’s own lasers cut into his ‘Mech’s shredded armour. One such struck into his missile launcher moments after he had loosed a volley, slagging several of the tubes and fouling the whole weapon. Desperate, he struck out with the Tundra Wolf’s other arm, firing the remaining anti-personnel gauss rifle into its wounded side. Against all chance, the metal flechettes struck something vital as moments later the Stalker was rocked by a powerful detonation from within. The ‘Mech crashed down on its side, belching smoke from its gaping wound.
“Priyanka, are you there?” he asked.
Any reply was blocked out by a transmission coming over all channels. “All Iota Galaxy units, this is Star Colonel Don Cooper, Thirteenth Wolf Guard Battle Cluster.” He groaned to himself, recognising the all-too-familiar voice.
“Beta Galaxy has swept through Montreal and crushed all resistance. Iota Galaxy is to fall back.” Jean could almost picture the smug satisfaction on the man’s face as he continued. “You are no longer needed.”
Jean stood rock still, stunned into silence. Carnage lay all around him; fallen ‘Mechs lying be the wreckage of destroyed vehicles. The only other standing unit he could see was the Mad Dog Mk III, although its stunned silence suggested to Jean that the Knight piloting it had received similar news.
I could run, Jean thought to himself. He had the advantage of speed, and Mad Dog had to be low on ammunition by now, if not already dry. He could make a clean getaway and regroup with the rest of Iota. But that thought was dismissed as soon as it occurred. No, that would mean abandoning the battlefield, leaving Priyanka, Sloane and all the others in Republic hands. Even if the battle had been rendered meaningless, he still would not give up on his men.
So he gambled. The Tundra Wolf broke into a run, surging rapidly to its top speed. He fired his remaining lasers as he barrelled straight at the Republic Knight. He was met in reply by searing laser fire from the Mad Dog’s secondary weapons. But as he had hoped, the missile bays were dry. Both ‘Mechs cut into each other, slagging armour off their chassis at a considerable rate. Although heavier and better armoured, the sheer weight of damage it had already suffered left the Tundra Wolf on the worse end of the exchange.
Pushing his MASC once more, Jean felt something break. A wrenching sound tore up the leg and into the cockpit, telling him as surely as the damage reports that his gamble had failed. The Tundra Wolf stumbled as it lashed out, catching the Mad Dog bodily and bringing both ‘Mechs crashing to the ground. Here he could leverage his greater weight, pinning his bird-like opponent and pounding on it. He raised the left arm again and again, each time bringing it crashing down on his opponent’s torso.
“You are not taking them!” he called out as he reared up one more time. The centerline lasers on the Mad Dog fired, cutting into the arm’s exposed actuators and searing it off at the elbow. He reared up with the other arm and swung broadly, crashing the massive barrel-like missile launcher across the Mad Dog’s diminutive cockpit. The impact separated the two, with the Tundra Wolf rolling aside and coming to a halt on its back.
Jean checked his systems. Damage reports went off around him, and it seemed like everything on his board was red. He strained the ‘Mech’s remaining systems to bring it up, but that only seemed to do more damage. Finally, it settled down in the churned-up earth, determined not to move again. With a last gasp, the Tundra Wolf shut down, plunging Jean into darkness.
He lay still for long moments. It seemed at last that he could feel the battle catching up on him. Pain seared into his side, probably broken ribs from the bad landing. His head stung from the neurohelmet feedback. He was sweaty and exhausted, but somehow satisfied. If this was it, he didn’t mind. He’d done everything he could.
Light suddenly flooded into his cockpit as the hatch was popped open from the outside. It took a moment for him to make out the shape that had opened it. MechWarrior Priyanka leaned in, her face grimy and her hair matted with blood. Jean smiled to himself, imagining that he must look just as good.
“Star Commander?” she asked. “Are you there?”
“Reporting, MechWarrior,” he said wearily. Relief flushed over her face. With a bit of fumbling and a gasp of pain, they managed to extract him from the cockpit restraints. With Priyanka’s help, he clambered slowly out of the cockpit.
Carnage lay all around them, but there was movement. He could make out Sloane resting against the side of his Conjurer, pouring a water bottle over his head. One of the Lobos emerged from the forest on the other side. And all around, reports were coming in from Charlie Trinary.
“We made it,” he said, as much to himself as anyone else. One arm over Priyanka’s shoulder, they clambered down the side of the inert Tundra Wolf. He eyed the battered form of the Knight’s Mad Dog. The ‘Mech was still, with the cockpit hatch wide open and no sign of the pilot. Still, that didn’t matter. When everyone had given up on them, they had made it through.
-
From the Campaign Journal of Don Cooper
The end of the Republic is near. You do not need to be a Loremaster or Khan to see that; it is obvious to everyone. Their forces on Terra are reduced to just those in North America, and even those are failing. Our Clan has taken everything they have thrown in our path and brushed it aside. And if what I have heard about the Jade Falcons defeating this so-called ‘Old Guard’ are true, it seems that the Republic has played its final hand and lost.
Not that the Republic seems to want to admit that. They are determined to fight to the end, it seems, an ideal that is conflicting. On one side, it is wasteful and gains them nothing at the cost of lives and machinery. On the other, I can appreciate their honor at not wanting to simply roll over and surrender.
Our last engagement proved that point. The first we knew of what was happening occurred when a pair of Republic units, one of which was new to us (EDITOR’S NOTE: The Fifth Fides Defenders and the Callison Rangers) smashed through Lambda Galaxy. While they may have been Wolves, Lambda proved to be little more than the ex-Lyran surats I have always known they were, and folded under the pressure. We (EDITOR’S NOTE: Beta Galaxy) were bought in to save their miserable rear ends, and bore down on the Republicans.
Despite the fact that they were facing our best, the Republicans did their best to hold the line. They used the terrain to their advantage, sticking to the forests north of Toronto and using the cover that they provided. I was not about to charge in there; the last thing I wanted was another Vietnam on my hands. Instead, I ordered my Cluster to use their mobility to hit and fade and prevent the Republicans from massing their strength.
And unlike in Vietnam, my warriors listened to me. Both Lucius Radick and Leedanra Connors were ordered and disciplined in the management of their Trinaries. They resisted the urge to charge headlong into the woods and instead focused on containing our enemies and keeping them bottled up.
Good thing they did too. Stray shots ignited a forest fire that quickly raged out of control. As bad as it was for Lambda, it was far worse for the Republicans who were in the heart of the inferno. Their own plan was turned against them, with much of their armor and infantry being lost to the flames. That was the opening we needed, with us and Lambda able to surround and crush their damaged forces as they tried to extract themselves.
Turns out that bunch of freeborn surats can do something right.
With this defeat, the Republic’s forces in Western Canada are essentially destroyed. Victory will come soon.
-
Grim Rain
Forward Operational Base Galahad, Kentucky
North America
Terra
Republic of the Sphere
T+86
“Something on your mind, chief?”
Jarrie Scire lingered a moment, looking over their Awesome. The blocky assault ‘Mech was presently swarming with technicians who were doing their best to get it back into some semblance of fighting shape. With the smallest grunt of acknowledgement, they turned back to face Kev Traynor, their second. “Besides our imminent deaths, you mean?”
“Yeah, no offence, chief, but I can tell when something’s bothering you,” Traynor shrugged.
Jarrie nodded. Kev looked like he had barely slept in the last week. It was a fair assessment, since Jarrie knew they hadn’t either. “You got me there,” they finally admitted. “You know what it is? Cacey and her bunch of rogues are probably gonna be the last Roughriders alive.”
“Huh,” Kev nodded. “Duncan was your LT, wasn’t she?”
“Yeah,” Jarrie admitted. “When she went rogue, she took the rest of her lance with her, save for me. I was the only one who stayed loyal to the unit.”
“And the old man was good with that?”
“Hell if I know,” Jarrie scratched their chin. “Maybe it was a family loyalty thing. Maybe he didn’t want to throw me away because of Duncan’s screw up.” There was a brief chuckle. “Maybe he was just glad to see Edington’s back. I know I was.” That brought on a sigh. “Guy was nothing but trouble, I tell ya.”
“I didn’t know him before he went.”
“Didn’t miss a thing,” Jarrie managed. “So how are we doing?”
“The ‘Mechs are being held together with spit and tape, we’ve burned all our ammo reserves and everyone’s dead on their feet,” Kev admitted.
“Situation normal then.”
“Yeah,” he nodded. “I guess the old man’s plan is to take down as many of those vat-bred bastards with us as we can.”
“Not a bad plan either.” That bought a wry smile to Jarrie’s face.
-----
Bianka Messier took another look over the datapad in her hands. Despite her exhaustion, the figures were clear enough; perhaps too clear, given what they were telling her. There is no other conclusion, she told herself. We cannot hold. Sighing to herself, she signed off on the report and closed the file. No sense in delaying this any further. We have only a few short hours to go.
She stepped past the field base where here Doloire was being serviced. The OmniMech had managed to get her out of the hell that was Los Angeles, but only just. By this point, its clean lines and shiny black finish had been turned into a mess of patches, field repairs and spare plating, giving it a rough and uneven look. And even then, that was doing a lot better than most of the BattleMechs around it. The next bay over held a Peacekeeper, painted in the distinctive black and skeleton design of Stone’s Lament, the first unit of what eventually became the Republic Armed Forces.
And probably the last, she grimly noted.
She stepped into a field office where a single figure was waiting. “Any news?” she asked, her tone ever so slightly optimistic.
“None at all,” Luke Vasili admitted. “Not from on-world or off.”
“It is what I figured,” she sighed. “But I was hoping for... anything, I suppose.”
“As were we all.”
“And the other matter I asked about?”
“Nothing there either,” he continued. “Knight McLandsborough is still missing in action in eastern Canada. I have no confirmation of her death, but that doesn’t rule out her being captured either.”
“At this stage we must assume the worst,” she concluded. “Damn, I was really hoping that she would make it.” Which means that they’re all gone now, she admitted to herself. Erzhan and Tariku in NIGHTHAWK, Keyhan in Los Angeles and now Tammy somewhere. Her small cadre had been more than just fellow Knights; they had been friends. And now that, along with everything else, was at an end.
“What’s the play?”
“A heroic, but ultimately doomed last stand,” Bianka simply stated. “We try to weaken the Falcons and possibly cripple their leadership. That way, when they and the Wolves inevitably turn on each other, the fighting will be as bloody as possible. Then once they have destroyed each other...” she shrugged. “Really, this is all blue sky stuff at this point.”
“But?”
She paused. “The Republic was built on a dream, of changing the Inner Sphere for the better. Of breaking the endless cycles of war. I do not want that to end, Luke. I know what the realities of the situation are, but there is that part of me that still wants that better future for all humanity.” She glanced out the window of the office. “One that does not involve being ruled by a small elite who’s entire authority is based on how they were born.”
“Understandable.”
“Tell me, Luke,” she considered, “what was it like, spending all that time outside the Republic, effectively operating on your own? You were out there for over a decade, after all. What kept you going?”
“The same thing as you,” he nodded. “The dream.”
She smiled ever so slightly before handing him the datapad. “You have your orders, Knight Vasili. I will probably never see you again, but it has been an honour to know you, even in these trying times.” She gave him a crisp salute, one that was picture-perfect despite her exhaustion.
“And you too, Lady Messier,” he replied in kind.
-----
Two flights of long-range missiles soared from Traynor’s Catapult. Moments later, his voice crackled over the communicator, with a grim report. “LRMs are dry.”
“Roger that,” Jarrie managed. “Give ‘em whatever you have left.” They managed a brief glance at their status board, the display showing that their own Awesome’s armour was more memory than present. At least all three of their heavy PPCs were still working for the moment. Traynor wasn’t doing much better, but was ahead of Wallach, whose Warhammer was basically a stumbling wreck that should have withdrawn, but was standing its ground. Whether that was out of determination or there simply being nowhere left to go was another matter.
Paul Dobson, the fourth member of their lance, had been killed in action two days ago.
Around them, the remaining Roughriders, as well as the Republic forces they were fighting alongside, were in a similar state. Three days of non-stop, relentless battles had seen them constantly pushed back by the Jade Falcons, all the while suffering horrific casualties. And yet, for all that, they hadn’t given up. There would be no retreat or surrender, not that they expected that the Falcons would have any mercy regardless.
A Jade Falcon Black Hawk leaped forwards, unleashing a pair of PPCs as it did. The two shots struck Jarrie’s Awesome, smashing into its already depleted armour. More warning lights went off, but Jarrie simply chose to ignore them for the moment, instead returning fire.
A wave of heat surged into the cockpit as they triggered all three of their own PPCs in reply. The trio of shots smashed into the Black Hawk, tearing through its side and smashing the medium OmniMech to the ground. That should have been enough to either finish it off or, at the least, give the Falcon warrior reason to withdraw. Instead, they picked themselves up, the wounded OmniMech lurching forwards.
Bastards are as determined as we are.
Jarrie unleashed another volley at the Black Hawk, this one being enough to finish it off. Not that it went down easy; its last PPC shot tore into the Awesome’s right arm, coming all too close to the weapon contained within it. Jarrie spared that one a moment’s notice, if only to confirm that it was still operational.
And yet, ahead of them was still an oncoming wall of brilliant green BattleMechs and Elementals. And, as if to make them seem just that little bit more imposing, the sky behind them was leaden black, dark seemingly accompanying their force.
More shots flew towards the Roughriders’ line. Jarrie’s Awesome rocked under several impacts, but remained standing through the punishment. A shot took off Traynor’s arm; that he was out of missiles meant that he was spared the risk of an ammunition explosion. Several more pummelled Wallach’s Warhammer, shattering the already wounded ‘Mech. There was no way to tell if he was still alive; not that Jarrie had any time to dwell on it.
Rain began to pour down from the skies as more Falcon ‘Mechs advanced. A Gyrfalcon and Jade Hawk leaped forwards, the two bird-like BattleMechs unleashing fire as they went. Jarrie replied, but two of their shots went wide as they jumped. The third smashed into the Jade Hawk, wounding its armour but doing little to stop it.
Heat continued to batter them as they fired again, ignoring the warnings coming from the Awesome’s systems as they did. This volley found more success, with two smashing into the Hawk’s side and arm. That did not seem to stop them, however, as they continued their advance, leaping again.
At the peak of their flight, the Falcon unleashed a hail of missiles, the weapons raining down onto the battered assault ‘Mech. The right arm PPC vanished in a cloud of shrapnel, while other warheads peppered its torso. A pair of lasers joined them, setting off even more alarms as they did. Jarrie’s only response was a strained grunt, even as sweat poured off them with the ‘Mech staggering under the impacts.
Traynor’s icon on the tactical display winked out.
The Falcon jumped again, as much to get the best use from their weapons as to get under the minimum range of Jarrie’s guns. Jarrie managed to pull the Awesome around, twisting its torso to track the Jade Hawk as best they could.
There was another exchange of fire at near point-blank range. Only one of the remaining PPCs hit home, but it made its mark, with the Jade Hawk’s arm simply vanishing into a mass of torn metal. However, the rain of missiles that came in reply shredded what little was left of the Awesome’s armour before assaulting its systems. One of the PPCs shattered, along with heat sinks. A blow to the cockpit capped it all off, Jarrie flinching under the impact.
And yet, they kept coming.
“Just you and me, Falcon,” Jarrie snarled as they thumbed the trigger for their remaining weapon. “Let’s see who’s left standing.”
-
End of the Dream
Interviewer: You were there at the final battles in Kentucky and Ohio. How would you describe them?
Anrynn Pryde: In a word? Glorious.
Interviewer: Can you elaborate on that?
Pryde: Certainly. One word is not sufficient to encapsulate such a momentous occasion, and would only do it an injustice. This was, after all, the largest single battle of both Clan’s campaigns up until that point. And what a battle it was.
Interviewer: There were five Jade Falcon Galaxies facing off against at least six Republican regiments, as well as supporting mercenary units.
Pryde: Aff. And while three of those regiments were composite units made of survivors of the fallen, they were still fierce and determined opponents. After all, they had their backs to the wall and everything to lose at this point. If they fell, then the Republic fell with them. Even then, they were led by three of Stone’s units (EDITOR’S NOTE: Stone’s Lament, Liberators and Pride), the best the Republic had to offer.
Interviewer: So what was the Jade Falcon plan?
Pryde: To kill every last one of them (Laughs). To be serious, however, this was a force that needed to be defeated if we were to claim Terra. There would be no victory until then. And furthermore, destroying this force would bring much honour and prestige to our Clan; we would have done what the Wolves could not and end this war.
Interviewer: But there was a more personal angle to it as well.
Pryde: Aff. At this point, nobody knew where Devlin Stone was. Capturing or eliminating him would be key to ending the Republic’s resistance. When we made contact with a force lead by Stone’s Lament, there were many who felt that he would be leading them himself.
Interviewer: Don’t you find that to be unlikely?
Pryde: Neg, and for two reasons. First is an earnest admission; it is the mindset of a Clan warrior. You do not lead from a command post or bunker, but from your BattleMech. The second is a historical reality; Stone would not have been the first Spheroid warlord to command his army from the front by any means.
Interviewer: And how did that inform your strategy?
Pryde: Our Khan wanted him dead, and we were glad to oblige. She had promised glory and honour to whatever warrior bought him down. Who could refuse that?
Interviewer: So to focus in on matters, what part did you play in the battle?
Pryde: Ah, now there was a battle. By fate or fortune, Epsilon Galaxy had made contact with Stone’s Lament and engaged them. We threw ourselves at them, eager to strike them down, and not just because they may have been led by Stone himself. This was the heart of the Republic, the seed from which it had grown after all. And, I admit, there was one other reason.
Interviewer: Which was?
Pryde: (chuckles) Stone’s Lament had dealt the Wolves severe blows in Europe. By defeating them, we proved our superiority.
Interviewer: Even though Devlin Stone was not present during the battle, the Lament still fought bravely.
Pryde: Aye, they sold themselves dearly and made us pay for every millimeter of ground that we claimed. I killed three of them myself during the battle, and lost track of how many more I wounded or damaged. I fought until my Jade Hawk’s missile bays were empty, and my jump jets screamed warnings every time I used them. And then…
Interviewer: Yes?
Pryde: It was late on the last day of the battle. My Trinary was engaged with elements of Stone’s Lament, although I should have been out of the fight. As I said, I was out of missiles, limiting my options. I had just taken out an Awesome, but my second, Star Commander Mohammar Isha, had my side when he was taken out by a Republican Doloire.
Interviewer: What happened then?
Pryde: I should have used my mobility and disengaged, but that was not our way. We were both battered, but I knew that with their mostly energy load and weight, they were holding the advantage in the fight. Instead, I pushed forwards, jumping as much as I could to keep them off balance, my jets screaming every step of the way. As I did, they fired everything they had left at me. A laser missed my cockpit by a hair’s breadth. Another struck my engine, cracking the casing.
[Pause]
Pryde: I landed and lashed out with what I had left; a kick. It was a masterful move, shattering the Doloire’s leg. As it fell, my lasers went through the BattleMech’s cockpit. And for that, I still had to salute them for their bravery.
-
Co-Authored with KayEmm and Zogster
The Bid to End All Bids
Leeandra Connors (Star Captain, Clan Wolf): I had long ago avowed any ties to my Clan of origin, and yet, during the batchall I could not help but think about the Exiles. The Falcons had invaded Arc-Royal and not only savaged them and taken their home, but tried to destroy them utterly. They had slaughtered their sibkos, killing children in an act of annihilation. In that moment, I realised that I did not want victory. I wanted vengeance.
Don Cooper (Star Colonel, Clan Wolf): When you think about it, this was the actual reason why we were here. The fight against the Republic had been the warm up, but this now was the real competition, fighting the Jade Falcons for control of Terra and the future of all humanity. Do not get me wrong, I knew that this would be a tough fight. Our enemies were determined and ruthless, and would stop at nothing to win. Say what you like about the tenets of the Mongol Doctrine, but at least it is an ethos.
Griff Heller (Star Captain, Clan Wolf): As selfish as it may seem, I was thinking of my own future during the batchall. My Bloodhouse is a minor one, and my future would be stifled by its lack of prestige. In the battle to come, I saw the chance not only to bring glory to my Clan, but a chance to make my own mark and establish my future.
Pierce Icaza (Star Captain, Clan Jade Falcon): I knew that the Wolves would be a dangerous and cunning opponent. Their campaign here on Terra had been marked by trickery and deception, but at the same time, they were fighting Spheroid opponents; such dishonour was to be expected. However, this was different. A battle against their equals for the future of all humanity. The last thing that I had expected was that the Wolves would stoop so low to claim victory.
Kia Malthus (Star Captain, Clan Jade Falcon): I do not think that I had ever expected this moment to come in my lifetime, but yet, here I was, about to fight for Terra. I was confident, not just in my Clan, but in the warriors that had fought alongside me every step of the way. In many ways, I was fighting for them; those of my Clan who had come so far and achieved so much, and those of us that had fallen along the way. And if I fell in that battle, I knew that such would be the greatest moment that any warrior could ask for.
Anrynn Pryde (Star Captain, Clan Jade Falcon): There was only one thing on my mind; the battle to come. This was the ultimate conflict, the one that all things Clan had been building towards for three centuries. It was always inevitable that would come to this, our two Clans fighting for Terra. Win or lose, live or die, it would be glorious.
Lucius Radick (Star Captain, Clan Wolf): I was confident that we would win from the moment our Khan made his bid. There was no doubt in my mind that he had a plan that would ensure our victory. Nonetheless, I also was aware that such would not happen without every one of us fighting to the best of their ability. Those of us who truly exceeded during the battle would be memorialised for all time, hailed as heroes not only of their Clan but of all Clans. And I intended to be among them.
Jean (Star Commander, Clan Wolf): I remember thinking that the worst had passed. That the tactics the Republic deployed were borne of necessity and desperation. More than just their capital or the homeworld of humanity, they were fighting for their very home. I could not blame them for the way they fought. But I imagined that the Jade Falcons would be different. That for all our animosity, we were still Clan and could fight as such. I do not think I have ever been so wrong.
-
Guest chapter by Zogster
Ring of Fire
Canada, North America
Terra
Trial Day 2
Jean was on edge.
The combined Wolf forces of Iota, Theta and Upsilon Galaxies were strung out, and he knew it. A new feeling of enthusiasm had gripped their warriors since the Republic’s surrender; as much it seemed from the end of the conflict being in sight as the opportunity to fight the Jade Falcons. They had been the Wolves’ rivals for as long as both Clans had existed. And even though the Falcon attacks on Wolf forces during the invasion had turned out to be false, they still didn’t help the animosity that had festered for so long between them. Still, it bought an eagerness to their forces’ flagging morale, an injection that was desperately needed.
Except that it led to this. While the remains of Charlie, little more than an oversized Star at this point, had stayed together, the rest of the Wolf forces were spread out through kilometres of dense Canadian forest, all in pursuit of Falcon units who had struck and faded and struck again. The Wolves had gladly followed, surging through the thick terrain and buoyed by their occasional contact with retreating Falcon ‘Mechs. But Jean had seen too much recently to let his hopes get up. There was more to this, and he knew it. While his own Tundra Wolf was no slouch, the Jade Falcons’ preference for jump jets gave them every advantage in this terrain. No, the Falcons had more coming, and he was dreading to know what.
A report from a Jenner IIC – one of Sloane’s remaining warriors – broke through his grim thoughts. “Charlie Five to Charlie, all units. Have incoming airborne. Looks like Falcon OmniFighters.”
OmniFighters? Jean cast a glance around his unit. The thick pine forest gave them plenty of cover from the air, and their units were too spread out for indiscriminate bombing. No, the Falcons had something else planned. “All units, move to cover. Let us see what they’re up to.”
The remaining ‘Mechs of Charlie spread out, moving further into the thickest groves of trees. Soon they could hear the roar of engines overhead. He turned his Tundra Wolf to watch for the incoming fighters, and saw the five other BattleMechs with him doing the same. Within moments they saw flights of Visigoth OmniFighters streaking overhead, spread out in a broad formation. One came perilously close to their location, releasing one of its multitudinous bombs near their Star. The projectile plunged towards the ground, before splitting open and dispersing a broad spray in the air.
And the sky lit on fire.
Blazing incendiary gel spread across a broad swathe of forest, the edge of which splattered down over Charlie. Trees ignited in an instant, and the ground level foliage was set ablaze. The last remnant of Charlie Command, a Mad Cat Mk II, was covered in the burning fluid, catching itself alight. In a panic, the pilot keyed his jump jets to leap out of the inferno, only to come crashing down into a fresh section of forest, setting it on fire.
“Get clear of the trees!” Jean ordered, feeling the irony of his previous command. He cast around for an opening as they moved, but found none. Already more fires were igniting all around him, and the chaotic noise from multiple comm channels told him they were not alone. All three Galaxies were lost in the burning forest, scattered and alone.
“What do we do?” Star Commander Sloane asked over the comm, an edge of panic evident in his voice.
“We stick together.” Jean studied his map. Red patches were blotting out much of the terrain, stretching out for hundreds of kilometres around them. Already he could feel the heat rising in his cockpit. They weren’t in the fire for now, but they were still far from safe. “We move as a unit and we try and find a way out.”
A string of confirmations rang out across his comm. Jean picked a direction and started out. The remnants of Charlie formed up behind him. One way or another, they would find a way out of this.
-----
The sky was blackened with smoke. Day had turned to night. As they picked their way through the choking cinders, Charlie was surrounded by fire. The firebombing had an immediate effect, but the fire had spread, seemingly blanketing the entire area. Someone on the comm had called it the Cauldron, and the name stuck. The heat pressed in around them, leaving Jean sweating in his cockpit. While the Mad Cat Mk II on his flank was blackened from the blaze, their other ‘Mechs otherwise intact.
“Contacts!” came Priyanka’s sudden call. Her Locust IIC and the Jenner IIC turned tail from their forward position and angled back towards the rest of the unit. With his moment’s warning, Jean formed up alongside the Mad Cat and Lobo. And within seconds, the Jade Falcons were upon them.
An entire Star of green and white ‘Mechs crested the trees and fired down from above. Laser and autocannon fire rained down from above, the Falcon ‘Mechs already illuminated in the sky by the brilliant emissions of their heat sinks. Jean keyed his own weapons even as he was rocked by impacts, restraining his fire against the mounting heat toll. Jumping further and faster than seemed reasonable, the Falcons were in amongst them in a moment. Next to him the Mad Cat backpedaled and fired, all four of its massive lasers burning brilliant beams against the blackened terrain around them.
“Watch your heat!” Jean called out to the assault ‘Mech pilot. The winged Flamberge he had engaged leapt aside and fired, sending blue-white plasma jets searing into the Mad Cat. Jean’s thermal display showed the ‘Mech’s heat spike before it slumped lifelessly forward. Jean fired his lasers at the Flamberge, brilliant pulses driving the enemy ‘Mech away from his shut down ally. He surged his Tundra Wolf to the side, trying to evade the same plasma fire but being caught with a glancing blow. A wave of heat flooded the cockpit as he fought with the console to keep his 'Mech active, and to give the Mad Cat a chance to recover.
It never came. The hulking, hunched-over form of a Turkina jetted out of the darkness, arcing through the air and coming crashing down on the Mad Cat’s still form. Massive talons on the ‘Mech’s feet dug into the Mad Cat’s back, tearing through armour and delicate components as if they were nothing. The Mad Cat simply collapsed under the assault, with the Turkina riding it to the ground, ending up perched on the ‘Mech’s shattered remains like a hunter claiming its trophy.
“Fall back,” Jean commanded, warily eyeing the Mad Cat’s wreckage. They couldn’t fight the Jade Falcon forces like this.
“Where do we go?” replied the Lobo's pilot, panic overtaking their voice.
“Into the fire,” Jean ordered, his voice set. Continuing to fire, he backed his Tundra Wolf towards a thicker clump of burning trees. Within moments he was among them, his ‘Mech engulfed by the flame. Heat battered him from all sides, pushing in on the edges of consciousness. His own screen was obscured by flame and smoke, although he could see on his radar the flickering signals of his Star as they followed his command.
Beyond, the Falcons took to the air again. Jean turned and accelerated his ‘Mech forward, weaving throughout the trees. Laser, plasma and missile fire rained down from above, interlacing between the ‘Mechs of his Star but finding little purchase. Targeting would be all but impossible in this conflagration. All they had to do was ride out the heat.
And soon enough it was over. The barrage of fire ceased, and intermittent pings showed the Falcon ‘Mechs departing, no doubt looking for easier prey. Jean waited for long, agonizing moments. The warning klaxons in his cockpit seemed to synchronise with the pounding in his head. Eventually, he gave the all-clear. He manoeuvred his Tundra Wolf out of the thick copse of trees while taking a pull from his ever-diminishing water reservoir. He could feel the ‘Mech’s heat sinks struggle against the environment; a struggle that they were slowly winning, for now.
“They are not pursuing?” Sloane asked. His Conjurer emerged from the treeline, steam rising from its overworked heat sinks. As he stepped out, Jean could see the rest of Charlie emerging as well. Each was pockmarked by weapons fire, but none had suffered severe damage yet.
“They don’t have to,” Jean replied. He gazed around at the fire, looking for the escape that he knew was not there. “They just have to wait and wear us down.”
-----
Of course, the Falcons were not content to just wait. Along with the blazing inferno around them, the Wolf forces had to contend with constant bombardment from Jade Falcon artillery missiles. While inaccurate, it was still highly dangerous and served to limit their movement. It seemed like they had been stuck in the Cauldron for hours, and made little to no progress. Jean knew they were boxed in. The only way out would be one that they made themselves.
What he was not prepared for was assistance. His Star’s Jenner IIC reported incoming signals – friendlies, for a change. Jean formed up the Star and diverted them to an intercept course. Soon enough, picking through the trees, came the low form of a Firestorm, followed by a Wyvern IIC, Phoenix Hawk and Bloodhound. The two Stars came to a halt facing each other.
“This is Star Commander Hugo, Theta Galaxy… elements,” the Firestorm pilot said uncertainly.
“Star Commanders Jean and Sloane, remnants of Charlie Trinary, Iota Galaxy,” Jean replied. He tried to project more confidence, as much for his own men as for the rag-tag Star they had just met.
“Theta’s – Theta is assembling Wolf units left in the Cauldron.” Jean politely ignored the man’s gaffe. Theta Galaxy had been raised from Marik-Stewart warriors and equipment, and incorporated into Wolf Empire forces. Right now, protocol was the least of their worries.
“Give me the details as we move. We should get going before –“
Almost as if summoned, disaster struck. An Arrow IV missile descended from above, impacting directly into the Jenner IIC’s side. Much of the ‘Mech simply vanished into the fiery explosion, but the remainder of its side ripped itself to shreds at the Jenner’s ammunition detonated from within. The light ‘Mech was thrown aside like a discarded doll.
“MOVE!” Jean yelled out. Both Stars scattered, separating out their ‘Mech’s and spreading in all directions. He eyed the Jenner IIC as it slowly staggered to its feet, damaged components dangerously exposed all down its side.
“Multiple contacts,” the Bloodhound’s pilot reported. Jean checked his own readout, showing five units moving in from their flank.
“Form up and keep moving,” Jean replied. “They will not shell us with their own units in contact.” He got a round of confirmations from his own Star. On the same channel, Star Commander Hugo gave orders to the same effect.
And soon, the Jade Falcons were upon them. A flight of lighter, faster ‘Mechs than they had encountered before announced their presence by falling upon the combined troops’ rear. Jean turned in horror to see a Hierofalcon target the wounded Jenner. Laser fire bit into the ‘Mech’s damaged side, slagging parts of the fusion engine. The Jenner went crashing to the ground once more. This time, it would not get up.
Before he had time to respond, a green and white Gyrfalcon popped above the treeline and fired down on him. Searing extended-range lasers bit into his Tundra Wolf’s arm and side. He returned fire with a spray of pulse lasers, trying to at least tag the fast-moving ‘Mech, but to no avail. All it seemed to manage was to spike his own ‘Mech’s heat.
Reports came in from all around him. The Jade Falcon Star was relatively light, but highly mobile. Here to harass, not destroy. Jean figured that a few good hits would drive them off, but between the smoke-filled air, the Falcon’s mobility and their own overheating ‘Mechs, that would be close to impossible. A quick scan of the enemy ‘Mechs’ profiles revealed that the Gyrfalcon was their heaviest, and probably their commander. That would be his target.
He moved into action. “Sloane, you and Charlie three stick with Theta elements. Close ranks and keep them off you.” At his word he saw the Conjurer and Lobo move to accompany Hugo’s Star. “Priyanka, get me a bead on that Gyrfalcon.”
He angled his Tundra Wolf to the left as he saw Priyanka’s Locust IIC break off to the right. As he moved, the Gyrfalcon emerged from the trees on burning blue jet plumes. Jean surged his MASC into action, trying to keep ahead of the incoming laser and autocannon fire. Once again it slipped out of sight, the smoke and flames obscuring it from his screen.
“I have his location,” Priyanka reported. Her Locust hunkered down in a hollow, watching the Gyrfalcon from behind. Jean afforded himself a smile as it appeared on his screen, getting ready to strike once more. This time he angled his ‘Mech directly towards it, pushing the myomers once more past their safe limits. He had to close, fast, and be ready for when it moved.
He was. Priyanka’s feed showed it launching from the trees. Simultaneously, Jean punched his own jump jets, soaring into the air. The two Battlemechs emerged from the trees at the same time, drastically closer than the Jade Falcon pilot was expecting. He unloaded directly into its face, volleying lasers and high-explosive missiles, heat be damned. Caught unprepared, the Gyrfalcon was hit full-on by Jean’s weapons. It landed unstably in the same clearing it launched from, the boxy bulk of the Tundra Wolf coming down right in front of it.
Before either could make a move, Priyanka fired. A barrage of small lasers burned into the Jade Falcon ‘Mech’s back, slicing armour off. Her main weapon cut into its arm joint, already damaged by Jean’s fire and searing it off at the shoulder. The Gyrfalcon’s sleek cannons crashed to the ground, almost immediately lost in the blazing inferno.
Jean staggered to keep his Tundra Wolf upright. Heat surged through the cockpit, both from his reckless weapons fire and the burning terrain he had landed in. His problems were quickly alleviated when the Gyrfalcon launched into the air, this time arcing up and away from the pair of them. He sent a volley of ATMs at its back, not daring to fire any more and push his ‘Mech too far.
“Are you alright, Star Commander?” Priyanka’s voice came over the comm.
“Aff, Mechwarrior,” Jean said. He paused for a moment, catching his breath against the heat and added, “Good work there.”
“Sloane here,” came another report. “The Falcons are withdrawing.”
As expected, Jean thought to himself. He accelerated his ‘Mech, turning it back towards the assembled units he had left behind. “Status?”
“Some damage, but nothing critical.”
“We lost Alphonse,” came Hugo’s voice over the channel. Jean stepped up to the assembled forces to see the battered wreckage of a Wyvern IIC. The slow ‘Mech had been punctured all over by weapons fire, with a gaping hole in the back of its head telling the story of its fall.
“I am sorry, Star Commander,” Jean replied.
“It’ll be worse if we do not get out of here.”
“I assume there was a plan?” Jean asked. Hugo had mentioned assembling their forces, but that was before the Jade Falcon strike.
“Aff, Star Commander,” Hugo replied. “But you were right. We should get moving first.”
-----
There was indeed a plan. As they advanced, more and more scattered units had come together. Theta Galaxy had assembled stragglers from Iota and Upsilon Galaxies to prepare for a push out of the Cauldron. At the same time, there were reports that Theta forces had destroyed a Jade Falcon artillery battery. While the news was good, the better result was the uplifting feeling amongst the ranks; that they could turn this around, that they could make an escape.
And then the rain came.
It was light, but it was there. Cold droplets scattering throughout the forest, pouring across their battered ‘Mechs and washing away the dirt and ash of the conflict. But most importantly, it began to douse the fires. All around them, the blackened husks of trees steamed rather than smoked, the flames no longer dancing among their branches and choking the air with smoke. The rain cleared the air, replacing the thick black clouds with soft grey ones, bringing a gentler, cooler air to the battlefield.
And that made it their time to move. Charlie moved with a group of mixed units from all three Galaxies, almost two dozen strong. They moved together, making a beeline for the western edge of the Cauldron, picking their way around the diminishing blazes. The Bloodhound and Locust IIC scouted ahead, sweeping for enemy units.
Jean remained on edge. Up until now, everything had gone to the Jade Falcon’s plans. They had evaded and fought off pursuers, but they were at a disadvantage and they knew it however, the rain changed everything. If the Falcons were going to claim a decisive victory, this would be their last chance. Had had little time to get his warriors – no, not just his warriors, the assembled Wolf Clan stragglers – out of the Cauldron and out of danger once and for all.
And all at once, the Falcons were upon them. The trees on their left flank erupted with movements, multiple ‘Mechs bursting out across the ground and into the air at the ragged column. An almost solid wall of weapons fire crashed into the unsuspecting BattleMechs, and Jean saw more than one form fall immediately.
But he was ready. Jean spun his Tundra Wolf towards the incoming Jade Falcon force. He targeted a Grand Summoner and snapped off all his weapons, catching it by surprise. Heat surged through his cockpit – not nearly as bad as it was, he ruefully thought – but the effect on the enemy was worse. He watched it stagger ad followed up, pressing his fire. At the same time he opened up his communications and barked out orders.
“Theta and Upsilon units, form up on Star Commander Hugo. Cut north and try to outrun them.” The remainders of the other Galaxies were generally in lighter and faster ‘Mechs. They had the better chance of escaping, and he knew it.
“Charlie Three, with me,” Jean ordered. The Lobo peeled out of the column and joined him, volleying its last remaining missiles at the Grand Summoner. The Falcon heavy ‘Mech returned fire with its massive autocannon, tearing the Lobo’s arm to shreds.
“What are you doing?” came Star Commander Hugo’s voice over the comm.
“Covering you,” Jean shot back. He poured fire on the Grand Summoner, his lasers cutting deep channels into its leg and flank. Jean thumbed ATM trigger, but all he got was a warning. Empty.
“Aff, Star Commander. Good hunting.” Jean thumbed his comm over to the Charlie’s channel. “Sloane, stick with them. Keep them safe if anything breaks through.”
“You know, nobody actually promoted you,” came Sloane’s reply.
“Sloane-“
“Aff, Star Commander,” Sloane replied. Jean couldn’t help but smirk as he turned back to his controls. Checking his radar, Jean could see the mass of friendly units peeling off together. While there were Falcons in pursuit, many of them seemed to be held at bay. An Iota Galaxy Glass Spider separated out from the group and advanced on the Falcons, both arms firing hypervelocity shreds of metal in a constant stream, raking up and down the Falcon lines.
Beside him, the Lobo focused its intense laser fire on the Grand Summoner’s torso. Staggered but still standing, it unloaded with its own weaponry. The ‘Mech’s powerful autocannon bit into the Lobo’s torso, setting off something inside. A quick check on his infra-red showed that his Starmate was suddenly running hot, no doubt hampered by cracked engine shielding.
Jean cut loose with his lasers once more, angling fire downwards. Intense beams and brilliant pulses cut into the Grand Summoner’s damaged leg. As it stepped backwards out of the field of fire, something gave within its structure and the leg twisted, almost coming apart. The ‘Mech pitched backwards, managing to catch itself against a pair of towering trees and stopping its fall. Jean cast his weapons briefly over it, but the Jade Falcon pilot seemed to have no desire to continue the fight.
He turned back to survey the damage to his ally. Much of the armour on the Lobo’s left side had simply been melted away, leaving its structure dangerously exposed. Fortunately, its legs seemed to be mostly intact.
“Charlie Three, fall back.” The Lobo was fast, and had a good chance of outpacing the Falcons. “You’ve done enough.”
“Aff, Star Commander.” He saw the Lobo briefly turn before it was suddenly enveloped in a barrage of missile fire. Detonations went off across its body, and he could see shreds of the ‘Mech’s structure tear of and scatter across the battlefield. A sudden shriek came over his communicator, but was cut off as quickly as it started. The remainder of the Lobo teetered and collapsed in on itself, leaving a mangled and lifeless husk on the blackened forest floor.
Jean turned in horror to see two more Jade Falcon ‘Mechs approaching, detailed in green and white. The hulking form of a Turkina came crashing through the forest, wickedly taloned feet tearing up the ground in its wake. Alongside came a winged of a Flamberge, plasma cannons already trained on him.
“Aaah,” came a languid, almost bored voice from the Turkina’s pilot. “The Pudding Wolf. I had hoped for some sport.”
Jean sat stock still in his command couch, stunned for a brief moment. He didn’t know whether to be impressed that a Jade Falcon commander had heard of him, or dismayed at the way his reputation had spread. After a moment, he simply shook the thought out of his head. The longer they stayed here, the better chance his allies had of escaping. He needed to hold them. And for that, he could play to their pride.
He straightened up in his seat, feeling more confident than he had in weeks. Facing front, he spoke out loud for all the battlefield to hear. “I am Star Commander Jean of Clan Wolf. What forces oppose me?”
“You do not deserve my name,” the Turkina pilot spat out, her voice dripping with venom. To the side, the Flamberge shot gracefully into the air, angling to the north. Jean acted on instinct, snap-firing his lasers at its side. A lucky shot fouled one of the ‘Mech’s jump jets, sending it unceremoniously crashing to the forest floor.
“I am your opponent!” the Turkina pilot bellowed. The assault ‘Mech surged forwards, with a grace unexpected from its massive bulk. Hordes of missiles sprang forth from its shoulder mounts, accompanied by a dazzling barrage of pulse lasers. Jean punched his Tundra Wolf into action, once again pushing the ‘Mech’s myomers beyond their safe limits. He circled around the Turkina, trying to keep ahead of the weapons fire. He pulsed his lasers, shooting intermittently between the trees, concentrating more on staying alive than trying to inflict damage. The pair exchanged stray shots, gouging into each others’ armour for a moment. Jean knew it was a duel that he could not win. The Turkina had every advantage – even if he wasn’t already damaged, it was far more durable than his Tundra Wolf.
But still, Jean had other priorities. The Flamberge clambered to its feet. Drawing a bead on it, Jean was surprised to see the heavy ‘Mech turn away from him. In a moment he saw the source of the distraction. Priyanka’s Locust IIC streaked in from between the trees, darting left and right at high speed as it bore down on the Flamberge. She fired her full array of lasers, cutting rivulets of fire across the Flamberge’s body. Jean took advantage of the distraction and surged forwards, advancing on its exposed rear. Lasers bit into the BattleMech’s back, tearing through the weak armour and shattering its fragile gyroscope.
However, it was not done. Even as it fell it snap-fired its weapons at point-blank range. The Locust IIC was enveloped in brilliant laser fire, and the trees around it spontaneously ignited. The Locust’s fragile frame vanished into the blaze, even as the Flamberge crashed face-first to the ground.
“Priyanka!” Jean yelled out over the comm, desperate for a response.
Before any could come, a shadow fell over his Tundra Wolf. A mighty taloned kick lashed out of nowhere, tearing into his ‘Mech’s knee. Warning klaxons sounded throughout the cockpit as he turned, struggling to keep upright. The Turkina loomed large, all but blotting out his monitor.
“I told you!” the Falcon pilot bellowed out, lashing out with the ‘Mech’s lasers. Fire cut into the Tundra Wolf’s boxy torso, sounding of more alarms. “I am your opponent!”
“Move!” Jean shouted at his Battlemech, quickly triggered his jump jets. It arced up and back, trying to get some distance from the Turkina’s hulking form. It angled upwards, and the pair exchanged laser fire. Jean cut deep gashes across the assault ‘Mech’s back but did little more. He came crashing down to the Earth, struggling to remain upright as his ‘Mech’s actuators whined in protest. Almost immediately he leapt again, trying to stay ahead of the Turkina’s fire to little avail.
“I will end you,” the Jade Falcon commander declared, her cool confidence returning. “I will end those you are protecting. I will end your Clan.” It seemed less a boast as a statement of fact. Try as he might, Jean could barely keep ahead of its weapons fire. While the ‘Mech’s missiles had trouble tracking his leaping Tundra Wolf, the Turkina’s laser fire was just too accurate. They cut into his rapidly weakening arm, freezing the actuators in place and throwing off his aim. Then, just as he came down, another focused barrage tore into his damaged leg. It buckled under the weight of landing and collapsed, bringing his BattleMech crashing to the forest floor.
“Come on, get up!” Jean hissed through gritted teeth as he struggled to bring his Tundra Wolf up to its feet. The damaged arm and leg whined in protest, and the Turkina responded by blasting into him once more, searing the damaged leg off once and for all. Jean’s ‘Mech collapsed to the ground once more. He struggled with the controls, trying to bring it upright.
“Move, you stupid pudding!” he bellowed out, but to no avail. He looked up at the monitor to see the Jade Falcon assault 'Mech approaching slowly, almost languidly. Taking its time. Savouring the kill.
The pilot gave a simple disdainful “Hmph,” before bringing her ‘Mech to a rest right in front of him. “More of a struggle than I expected. Still…” She trailed off, raising the Turkina’s leg and aiming its taloned foot at his cockpit.
Before she could strike, the Falcon commander was struck in turn. An array of light but intense laser fire struck out from her side, tracking along the ‘Mech’s sloping torso. A final shot bored into the side of the cockpit, rocking the ‘Mech in place. It stumbled back, bringing its poised foot down on the ground, centimetres from the Tundra Wolf’s head.
Both Jean and the Falcon commander looked in awe at what had emerged. Priyanka’s Locust IIC stood before them, still steaming from its stay in the inferno. Much of its armour had simply melted away, and what little remained was cooled and fused in an unrecognisable pattern. But its weapons remained, and as it kicked into gear once more it readied to fire.
The Turkina turned, its pilot boiling over with rage. “How dare you! You insignificant speck! You are nothing! I am Jade Falcon! I am –“
What she claimed to be was never heard. Jean propped the Tundra Wolf up on its distressed arms and fired the torso-mounted lasers. Darts of light traced their way along the Turkina’s broad body, terminating in its head. A final pulse struck through the cockpit, flashing out the other side. The assault ‘Mech simply came to a halt, standing stock still.
Jean sagged against his restraints and tore off his neurohelmet. Warnings and damage reports sounded all around him, but he didn’t care. He unbuckled himself and clambered out of the cockpit, just in time for the bizarre form of Priyanka’s Locust IIC to come to a rest in front of him.
“What are you doing here?” Jean asked. The Locust lowered its body and opened the cockpit hatch.
“I could not abandon the last of my Trinary,” Priyanka replied solemnly.
“Sloane?” Jean asked. Her only reply was a brief shake of her head.
“What about the others?” Jean slowly clambered up the side of the Locust’s body. It was still hot to the touch, and his body ached from the constant battle. Still, he made the climb and squeezed himself into the cramped cockpit.
“Hugo led most of the group out of the region. The Jade Falcons quickly gave up pursuit.”
Jean nodded to himself, and Priyanka pulled the canopy shut. The Locust rose from its crouch, and she angled it north and west. “Hold on,” she said over her shoulder. “We will be out of here in no time.”
“Aff, MechWarrior,” Jean said, and leaned back. Out of the corner of his eye, he spied the shattered remains of his Tundra Wolf where it lay amongst the trees. It was a good ‘Mech. It did not deserve the reputation that it had been given, and he only hoped after all this that the same could be said of him.
But that was for later. For now, they were away. The pair sat in silence, listening to the rhythmic pounding of the Locust’s footfalls. He didn’t care about glory right now, about his reputation, about the defeat they had suffered or the losses that had come with it. He only cared that they had survived and, for now at least, it was over. Finally, it seemed, he could rest.
-
This Aggression Will Not Stand, Man
A Jade Falcon Gyrfalcon leaped towards Leandra’s BattleMech, lashing out with its weapons as it did. One of the large lasers hit home, tearing the last of the armour from her side, setting off more warning lights as it did.
Not willing to give the Falcon MechWarrior even the slightest hint of victory, she retaliated in kind, opening fire with her Coyotl’s weapons. The result was less spectacular than she might have hoped; her laser fire seemed to simply scatter across the Gyrfalcon’s armour, while her Streak SRMs gave an angry growl to indicate a lack of target lock.
As soon as they were ready, Leeandra fired her jump jets, leaping back towards the treeline. The Gyrfalcon followed, the Falcon warrior sure to keep up their distance, a situation that clearly favoured them. “Come over here, you surat!” she snapped, frustration welling up inside of her. “At least have the decency to die!” She was angry, she was tired and she had barely slept in the last fourty-eight hours. And yet, she was not going to give up.
“Any signs of Kappa Galaxy?” Star Colonel Don Cooper’s voice cut into the command channel. The sounds of weapons fire in the background made it clear that he was under as much duress as she was.
“Neg,” she all but spat. Their Cluster had pushed north to try and support the other Wolf unit, which had come under heavy assault from the Jade Falcon’s Gamma Galaxy. So far, all they had seen was Falcons, a situation that was not boding well.
Another pair of laser shots lashed out at her BattleMech, one of them destroying what little was left of the protection over her left arm. More warning lights flashed on, with Leeandra ignoring them for the moment. The limb was little more than decoration on her ‘Mech, and she had other things to worry about.
This time her retaliation had more effect; while her laser still did little damage, her Streak missiles managed to whittle armour away from the Gyrfalcon’s chest and side. The bird-like BattleMech took a step backwards under the assault, unstable but still on its feet for the moment.
“We have our orders from the Khan himself,” Lucius Radick simply stated as his Warwolf advanced, with the Star Colonel’s Savage Coyote behind it. “This Falcon rabble are not a threat.”
As he spoke, he opened fire with his Gauss rifle on a Jade Falcon Mad Dog. The shot tore though the heavy BattleMech’s side, shredding armour and structure while sending one of its arms crashing to the forest floor. Swaying, it staggered backwards, grievously wounded.
Any sense of victory he may have had would have dissipated a moment later as a Hel stepped forwards to take its place. The heavy BattleMech returned fire, sending two Gauss rifle shots in response to his one. The Warwolf rocked under the impacts, one of which tore apart its left side LRM launcher. Nonetheless, Lucius stood his ground, with Leandra unable to decide if it was admirable or frustrating right now.
The same situation was playing out across the battlefield, with the Falcons continuing their relentless advance. Edward’s Adder was down, smoke pouring from the wrecked BattleMech. He was not answering his communicator, and she suspected the worst. Ed and Frank Wallace were engaged in their own battles, but it was clear that the pair of them were only just holding their own. Griff Heller’s Rabid suits were caught in a battle with a Grand Summoner, peppering the heavy ‘Mech with missiles.
The Falcon BattleMech responded, one of its large lasers simply erasing a Wolf Elemental from existence.
Not that she had any time to dwell on the situation. The Gyrfalcon continued to harry her, its lasers and autocannons taking their toll. A shot vaporised what was left of the left arm, the Coyotl staggering under the sudden shift in its weight. Its counterpart spiked through her ragged torso armour, spearing the engine shielding. Almost instantly she was hit with a wave of heat, Leeandra simply accepting it with a grunt.
She won some small measure of victory from her retaliation, but not enough. Her missiles pummeled into the Gyrfalcon, one of them smashing into an autocannon, tearing the weapon apart. Despite the damage, the Falcon warrior continued to hold their ground.
Looking for an opening, she fired her jump jets again while doing her best to ignore the wave of heat that buffeted her in the cockpit. The Gyrfalcon pilot did the same, either not concerned about the loss of his weapon or simply too focused on killing her. At the peak of her arc, she could see more of the situation unfolding, with the wave of Falcon-green ‘Mechs slowly enveloping the Wolf line.
As she came down, she could see the Gyrfalcon land some distance back, perhaps trying to keep her completely out of range. Between them was Ed’s Ice Ferret, the boxy BattleMech doing its best to stay mobile on the chaotic battlefield. As it attempted to run, a stream of autocannon fire smashed into it, tearing through its torso, leaving only a shattered husk to crash to the ground.
Next to the Gyrfalcon, a Stormcrow surged forwards, its MechWarrior clearly eager for more prey. Forgoing any attempts to stand and fight, Leeandra leaped back again. “Bloodseeker Trinary, form up on me,” she ordered, doing her best to regain control of the situation. Both Falcon ‘Mechs continued their advance, hungry for blood.
One of them never got the chance to sate that desire. A series of searing beams sliced into the Stormcrow, impaling the Jade Falcon BattleMech. “Do not let them draw you in,” Don Cooper ordered over the command channel as his Savage Coyote advanced. “Think about what happened in Vietnam, where-“
“With all due respect, Star Colonel,” Leeandra interrupted, the combination of frustration and exhaustion overwhelming any sense of decorum, “shut up.”
“What-“
“Not everything is about Vietnam!” she snapped. “We are here in the greatest battle of all history, and it is all you can talk about. You need to get over it already!”
“As soon as we are done here, Star Captain, I will-“ he began, an ominous tone in his voice. Not that he got to follow through on whatever was on his mind.
A Night Gyr unleashed a pair of searing blue PPC beams, both of which struck his Savage Coyote square in the chest. As the blocky BattleMech staggered under the impacts, brilliant flames began to pour fourth from the gaping hole in its armour. Moments later, the head cracked open as the ejection seat sailed into the air, just before the entire BattleMech was torn apart form within by the catastrophic failure of its fusion reactor.
For a moment, there was a stunned silence.
“All units, this is Star Captain Lucius Radick.” He was the first to speak, pushing into the command channel. “Gamma and Epsilon Galaxies have our back. Withdraw to their position.”
Leeandra wanted to argue with him for any number of reasons, not the least of which was the sheer arrogance of his taking command of the Cluster. And yet, she could see the logic in his words. “Aff,” she simply confirmed, firing her Coyotl’s jump jets to break contact with her Jade Falcon enemy. The move made sense, and was necessary in the face of the situation. That did not mean she had to like it, however.
I just hope the Khan knows what he is doing.
-
The Killing Stroke
Interviewer: So tell me about the final day of the trial.
Anrynn Pryde: Hm, now that is a contentious question. But also, a fair one.
Interviewer: Of course. If you do not want to discuss it-
Pryde: Neg. There is no point in trying to change history. And do not get me wrong, freebirth, I was glad to have fought there on that day.
Interviewer: What part did you play in those events?
Pryde: The Khan launched her Ripping Beak offensive; the greatest single formation of warriors in the history of the Clans. Our goal was simple; to win at any cost. While yes, we had suffered setbacks, we also knew that the Wolves had fared far worse in the battle thus far. This was the moment that we would end them.
Interviewer: Where were you in the attack?
Pryde: We were a part of the true point of the spear. We and Gamma slashed into Kappa Galaxy first, shredding the Wolf warriors that we faced. I was one of the leaders of that strike, my Trinary soaring into battle and wreaking havoc among their lines. We were faster and more mobile than they were, and they could do little to stop us. I scored my first kill of the day there; a Glass Spider who might as well have been standing still next to me.
Interviewer: And then what happened?
Pryde: As they pulled back, elements of the Wolves’ Beta attempted to save them, but it was a largely futile effort. Both Wolf units retreated, with Kappa all but out of the fight. And yet, that was just the start of the day.
Interviewer: How did the battle progress from there?
Pryde: As the Wolves pulled back, we continued our advance. They were weakened and we knew it; now was the time to finish them off, the killing stroke if you will. Epsilon Galaxy took the lead, continuing our relentless surge across their lines as they did their best to regroup. It was not enough.
Interviewer: You pressed the attack.
Pryde: Aff. What else was there to do? We had the advantage and we would have been fools not to exploit it for all it was worth. As we advanced, we ran headlong into Alpha Galaxy, the Wolves’ strongest force. [pause] There was a battle.
Interviewer: Could you tell me more about it?
Pryde: They were determined, and would not yield, no matter what. But we were fierce, relentless and our will to win was stronger than their will to live. We smashed into their forces, like a tsunami upon the rocks. Do not get me wrong; they fought hard. I watched good warriors die around me, but I knew that in my heat, each sacrifice was a worthy one. They could not be allowed to win, no matter what.
Interviewer: Do you think they could have?
Pryde: With what we knew then? Neg.
Interviewer: Why would you say that?
Pryde: Despite their determination, their lines were collapsing. They were pulling back, doing their best to buy time and simply survive. We were not going to let up either, and continued to push them as hard as we could, until…
Interviewer: Until?
Pryde: I had just killed a Timber Wolf, and watched as the rest of their Trinary had pulled back before us. I had but a moment to bask in the victory before it all changed.
-
Guest Chapter by KayEmm
The Edge of the Blade
A trio of Gauss shots flew through the air around Kia’s Jade Phoenix as the massive OmniMech landed from its jump. No sooner was it down than she unleashed her own retaliation on her would-be attacker, a battered Wolf Crucible. Her two particle projector cannons lashed out, flaying through the blocky BattleMech’s already depleted armour, eating into its vulnerable innards.
However, it was her Gauss rifle that did the most damage. A swarm of metal shards tore through the holes exposed by the earlier fire, eagerly seeking what lay within. One of them found their mark, the Crucible’s entire right side tearing itself apart as one of its Gauss rifles exploded in a shower of debris, sending its arm flying away. Mortally wounded, the Wolf ‘Mech staggered, then simply collapsed onto its side.
Looking over her status board, Kia noted that her armour was holding, but her Gauss magazine was empty. She quickly powered down the weapon, lest it detonate like her opponent’s just had. “All units, report in,” she called out over her command channel as she glanced around, trying to take in the situation.
Krys and Shakir were in the same state as her, their armour battered and their ammunition depleted. Steyr was doing slightly better, with some reserves in his magazines. Only Vic Roshak was still fully armed due to his all-energy configuration. Even then, his Turkina’s armour was more wishful thinking than actual protection.
She took a moment for a breather before she spoke again. “Press the assault,” she called out, her voice defiant and full of energy. “We have them!” Right now, she was running on pure adrenaline alone; she’d barely slept in the last two days since the trial began, and had been fighting almost non-stop since sunup. And yet, she would not have stopped for anything.
The Jade Falcons were on the cusp of victory, and she knew it. There were no nagging doubts, no quiet anxieties, no insane worst-case scenarios. The Republic had not hit them with nuclear weapons or unleashed any other one of the hundreds of possible doomsday scenarios upon them. Instead, it had fallen, crushed under the Falcons’ might.
And now the Wolves would meet the same fate.
Her particle cannons lashed out again, spearing into a damaged Blood Reaper. The Wolf BattleMech did its best to weather the blows, but she could see its heat spiking on her display as its engine shielding gave way. Its return fire tore into the depleted armour on her legs and side, but did little to stop her.
A Glass Spider stepped forwards to support its colleague, its armor already deeply scarred. Before it could open fire, it was instead impaled by a quartet of searing emerald beams that all but cut its torso in half. Glancing to one side, Kia could see the squat form of Vic’s Turkina advancing next to her. The others of her Star were with him, making her the tip of the sword.
Like one of her own blades, poised to strike.
Another volley of fire drove the Blood Reaper to its knees, fire belching out from the rents in its hull. The BattleMech’s canopy blew off, followed by the ejector seat rocketing away. She paid the escaping Wolf MechWarrior little heed, instead focusing on what needed to be done. Around her were the wrecks of Wolf BattleMechs, while other damaged machines struggled to escape. A Point of Elementals, tagged on her HUD as Pierce’s, leaped forwards, firing their weapons into a battered Wolf tank as it tried to join its colleagues. Smoke began to billow forth from it as the crew tried to bail out.
“This is Alpha Probe One,” Max Klein’s voice cut into the command channel. “I have hostile forces moving in from the north. ID unknown, but we are taking fire!”
Freebirth! She spat. It should have been impossible; the Wolves simply had nothing left at all to fight with. All of their forces were committed to the battle, with every unit in their tourman tagged and accounted for.
“All units, adjust north,” she ordered over the command channel. “Alpha Probe, try to ID units and then pull back to my position.”
“Neg, Star Captain!” Max called out. “There are too many of them. We cannot-“
There was a short, sharp burst of static and the channel closed. At the same time, his icon winked red on her command display.
Kia knew full well what had just happened, but she had no time to mourn, only act. “All units, come about!” she quickly snapped as she turned her own BattleMech to face the attackers. Whoever these new Wolves are, they have to be a last desperate rally, she figured. They have nothing left to throw in our way.
Shots tore through the woods, slamming into the ‘Mechs of her Star as they pivoted to face the new threat. Several hits rocked her Jade Phoenix, worrying what was left of her damaged armor. Gritting her teeth for the moment, Kia simply stood her ground, ready for what emerged.
The first of those enemies came into view, and just for an instant her resolve faltered at what she saw.
The BattleMechs advancing on her force were no mere collection of stragglers or some desperate last charge. They were a veritable horde, made up of fresh BattleMechs, far more than she could have possibly seen coming. Her sensors were tagging them as a motley mix of designs; not Wolf ‘Mechs or the salvaged Free Worlds and Lyran designs they had used to bulk out their ranks, but instead a wide range that included a few very specific models. Shogun. Annihilator. Hoplite. The symbols they wore only underscored the point. A black wolf’s head on a red disc.
Wolf’s Dragoons.
She wanted to scream at the sheer dishonour of it all, the idea that mercenaries would be bought in to fight in this most sacred of moments, but that was not her priority. Survival was.
“All units,” she shouted out as she fired her jump jets. “We are surrounded! Keep moving and do not let them take you!” It was the best she could manage, given the situation. They were worn, their armor battered and their weapons depleted. And this new force was entirely fresh.
She came down in a stand of trees, trying her best to find some cover. Her PPCs lashed out at a Shogun, blasting armor from its side. The Dragoon BattleMech turned to face her, unleashing a devastating volley of fire in reply. While missiles shredded the trees around her, enough of them along with its particle cannon still smashed into her ‘Mech, tearing into what little armor remained. More fire joined it, further wounding her machine.
Warning lights went off across Kia’s status board as systems failed under fire. In among them, she noticed another going off, with Shakir’s transponder no longer registering. She had no time to mourn her Starmate, however, being instead focused on simply staying alive. Keep moving. Make it as hard as possible on them, she told herself as she fired her jump jets again, trying to flank the mercenary advance.
In many ways, her move only made things worse. Form the air, she could get a better idea of the sheer numbers of the Dragoons advance, watching as they slammed into Delta Galaxy as some unstoppable force. Her fellow Falcons were fighting and dying all along the line, doing whatever they could to hold back their opponents in what seemed a futile gesture. One caught her eye, Steyr’s Flamberge in her focus for an instant before it erupted into a massive fireball.
She came down, opening up on the offending Shogun again. Her shots further pummelled the BattleMech, smashing through its damaged armor, but doing nothing to slow it down. The return fire from it and its colleagues gave back far better than it got, as particle cannon fire shredded the Jade Phoenix’s left arm and shoulder. Grunting under the blow, Kia did her best to keep her footing as the ‘Mech shifted from losing so much mass all at once.
The jump was not easy, with Kia fighting the controls for every moment while compensating for the damage her ‘Mech had suffered. Seeing Krys’ transponder go dark mid-flight barely registered, with Kia more focused on not joining her Starmates. As she came down, she continued her assault on the Shogun, smashing it again with her two PPCs. Both of them struck home, staggering the Dragoon ‘Mech.
But not stopping it.
The return fire was ferocious, hammering her BattleMech. A sudden spike of heat told her that her reactor shielding had been compromised, while both of her PPCs vanished under enemy fire. It was all she could do to keep the Jade Phoenix upright, let alone fight back.
Not that those around her had a chance either. Shots hammered into Vic Roshak’s Turkina, driving the huge BattleMech to its knees. As it fell, another went through its cockpit, leaving no illusions as to the survival of the MechWarrior inside. A lone Elemental leaped over it, defiantly sending shots into a Dragoon Annihilator before being swatted aside. Kia had no way to confirm it, but somehow she knew that was Pierce.
Which left her, alone and unarmed.
For just an instant, all she could see was death. This was a chance to embrace her despair, and simply escape whatever future lay ahead of her.
Instead, she stomped down on the jump jets, leaping into the air one last time. I will not be defeated, she told herself. I will not give up.
Shots smashed into the Jade Phoenix, tearing into what was left of its armour. More warnings came on, but she ignored them all. Instead, she focused entirely on the Shogun as its MechWarrior realised what was happening, and was beyond the point they could stop it.
I am Jade Falcon.
She saw the Jade Phoenix’s foot slam into the Shogun’s cockpit, a horrible tearing of metal filling the air as the two titanic BattleMechs collided. The world span as gravity took over, the pair of them crashing hard to the ground.
As the world went ark around her, Kia’s last thoughts were not of the battle or anything else; instead they were of her sibkin. I am sorry, Ame.
-
Co-authored with KayEmm and Zogster
ilClan
Despite all that had happened, Lucius Radick had still managed to make himself look impeccable for the ceremony. His beard was neatly trimmed and he did not have a single hair out of place. He looked like he had just come back from a holiday at a luxury resort, not fighting for the future of all humanity.
That only served to annoy Leeandra Connors even further. Around him were wounded Wolf warriors, and those who had given their all in the battle. Griff Heller was still heavily bandaged, having only just survived the destruction of his suit. Conversely, Lucius seemed to have casually walked off everything that had happened to him while others had bled and died on the field.
And that bothered her. Here she was standing in Unity City on sacred Terra at the declaration of a new Star League. She was a warrior of the ilClan, the dream that had been held by every Clan warrior since their foundation. She should be in awe, basking in the glory and celebrating this moment. Instead, she felt wrong for some reason she could not put her finger on.
“Celebrate the moment,” Lucuius Radick commented, sparing her a sideways glance. “This will not happen again.”
“I should but…”
“Are you not happy?” Lucius asked. “Is this not what you wanted? We are the ilClan. There could not be a greater honour.”
“This is true.”
“And it happened because you got what you wanted,” he continued. “Did you not want to see the Exiles bought back into the fold, quiaff?”
“Aff,” Leeandra replied. “But neg.”
“What do you mean?”
She brushed her hand through the shaved half of her head in thought; days of living out of her BattleMech’s cockpit had seen personal care go by the wayside, leaving it to grow out into a layer of short fluff. “I wanted them to realise the error of their ways and come back of their own will, to join us in realising our destiny. Instead, being harvested like this feels…” she shrugged. “They came because somebody made them give up being Lyran lapdogs, rather than it being because they wanted to.”
“So you want them all to have made the same decision you did, quiaff?”
“Aff,” she agreed. “It should not have had to come to this.”
“Ultimately, it did not matter,” Lucius beamed. “We won. Sacred Terra is ours. We are the ilClan.”
“Did we? Did we really?”
“What do you mean?”
Leeandra sighed. “We did not win because we were better warriors or more honourable or stronger or whatever else. We won because we bought a bunch of dezgra mercenaries in to fight our battles for us. Are we really worthy of this honour if we had to stoop so low?”
“It was a cunning move.”
Leeandra gave a derisive snort as her only reply. “We should not have needed to.”
“Would you have rather risked the Falcons winning instead, quineg?”
She snarled a little, not able to think of a comeback. Instead, she looked out over the assembled crowd of Omega Provisional Galaxy warriors. The former Exiles, the Clan she had been born to and grown up in.
“Something on your mind?” Lucius asked.
“I am going to find one of them with a working Arctic Wolf II,” Leeandra finally spoke. “And I am going to beat them up and take it from them.”
-----
When the rescue crew had pried Kia Malthus from the wreckage of her BattleMech, she already knew what had happened. The trial was over. The Jade Falcons had lost. The Wolves were the ilClan now and forever.
She should have felt angry at this defeat, especially after the Wolves had been so dishonourable. Rage, fury, humiliation and so much more should have been welling up inside of her, ready to explode. But instead, there was nothing; a simple acceptance of reality. She had taken all of that, and let go of it. She was alive, and there was nothing more that she could have asked for. That simple fact had struck home as she realised how few of her fellow Falcons could claim that.
None of her Trinary were among them.
“Your thoughts?” Pierce Icaza asked. He was propped up on crutches, his left leg simply gone below the knee. His Elemental suit had been crushed during the battle, and like Kia, he had been nearly killed.
“We are alive,” she simply stated. “At this point, could we ask for more?”
“Neg,” he agreed. “Do you think we are still Star Captains?”
“With less than a Cluster of Falcons active?” Kia shrugged. “I have no idea.” She paused. “Is that all you can think about?”
“It is going to be a while until I can get back into a suit,” Pierce admitted.
“True,” she nodded. “I should try teaching you some smithing, then. It is a good way to occupy the mind.”
“Think it is something I can do on one leg?”
Kia glanced at him. “I have no idea. Consider it a challenge.”
“What are you two going on about?”
Kia glanced at the speaker; a woman standing next to her, a Gyrfalcon Galaxy patch on her uniform. It marked the pair of them as among the handful of survivors of the same unit. Shorter and slimmer then Kia, her right eye was covered by bandages. Her right arm was also in a sling, but Kia couldn’t help but notice that the cast was too short to contain the entire limb.
“Star Captain Kia Malthus,” she simply began.
“Star Commander Nadi,” the other woman quickly replied. “Viola Bloodhouse. Um, I think I might be the last one of them, actually.”
“Well met,” Kia nodded back.
“What do you think happens now?” Nadi asked.
“I do not know,” she finally admitted. “This is completely new, not only to us, but to everyone. And all we can do is go forward and face whatever the future brings”
“Aff,” she agreed.
“If I do retain my rank,” Kia added, “I will need an entirely new Trinary,” Kia considered. “I will give you a place in it.”
“You have not even looked at my codex.”
“Neg,” Kia admitted. “But you fought in the trial and you survived. Those are qualifications enough.”
“I guess so.”
-----
“So,” Anrynn Pryde considered out loud. “What do we actually know about our glorious new Khan?”
“Uh,” Star Commander Mohammar Isha stumbled. She was willing to give him a moment, given that he was the only other surviving member of her Trinary. “She opposed the Mongol Doctrine,” he finally finished.
“I know that,” she sighed, “I meant as a person.”
“She likes knives?” He offered.
“I thought so.”
-----
Jean leaned back against the catwalk’s railing, surveying the cavernous ‘Mech bay before him. Mere days ago it had been at the heart of RAF operations; now like everything else it belonged to the ilClan. And there was plenty to be done here. Many of its repair bays were occupied by Wolf BattleMechs in various states of disrepair. It seemed as many were being torn down for parts as were being patched back up.
And odd pair occupied adjacent bays. The first, a boxy Tundra Wolf was held upright by the bay’s armatures as it was missing most of one of its legs. Armour was sheared and blasted off all over it, and one of the arms was mangled and twisted the wrong way. It towered over its companion, a spindly Locust IIC. The light 'Mech was a mess in its own way, technically fully intact, but with armour reduced to molten slag all across its body.
“I think she needs a name,” came the voice beside him. He glanced to his left to see MechWarrior Priyanka approaching, two steaming cups of coffee in hand. She handed one over to him and added “You do not go through all of that without earning a name.”
He glanced up briefly to the long pale scar across her forehead. Like so much else, it would likely never fully heal.
“All this time and they are only just getting to recovery and repair,” Jean mused, half to himself.
“There has been a lot else to do, quiaff?”
“Aff,” Jean replied with a chuckle. He glanced back at their BattleMechs, the only two left of the Trinary that had landed on Terra. “I think that one needs a new name too.”
“I am surprised to find you here,” she said, turning to face him. “You should be celebrating, not lurking in a dingy hangar.”
“Somehow, I do not feel like celebrating.”
Priyanka turned back to look over their BattleMechs. In a way, they were emblematic of the state of their Clan. Battered, half in ruins and almost unrecognisable, but somehow still standing. Even if they stood almost alone.
“Aff,” she replied solemnly.
The two stood in companionable silence for a long moment. Eventually, Priyanka quietly asked “What happens now?”
“I do not know,” was all Jean could say. After a moment, Priyanka gently leaned against his side. He slowly reached out and wrapped an arm around his shoulder. And so they stayed for a while longer.
-
Guest chapter by Zogster
Interlude - In Transit
A scowl on her face, Violetta jetted down through the Torquemada’s cluttered ‘Mech bay. The Union-class DropShip was on its way to a JumpShip rendezvous after another successful campaign. Having completed its initial burn, the ship was coasting, leaving the crew in microgravity. Violetta liked the freedom it presented, opening up far more space in the old and patched-up machine that had been her home for her whole life. Right now, however, the sound of an argument booming throughout the hold were souring her mood. Best to get this sorted, fast.
She caught hold of a rail and used it to swing down to the floor, angling towards Maeve and Jackson. The two couldn’t have been a more striking contrast. Small and wiry, Maeve’s short-cropped black hair framed a pale face that looked like it hadn’t seen sunlight in months. Jackson, by comparison, was tall, dark and muscular, looming over the pair of them. His shaved head only seemed to make him more intimidating.
Whatever they were spitting at each other came to an immediate halt as she stopped between the two. Violetta gave Maeve a stern look, having heard her loud voice from the upper levels. “So what’s the noise all about?” she demanded.
“Your pet got loose again,” Maeve spat at her. The bad blood between them went back decades, but both knew they needed to get along to make this unit work. Still, this sort of outburst was far from unknown.
“Yasir,” Jackson clarified with his typical brevity. Violetta nodded her understanding. Yasir was a young man who’d stowed away on the Torquemada after a previous campaign. Violetta had decided that rather than return him to his home – and let him expose their thievery – that he could come with them and join their unit. Of course, Yasir’s opinion on the matter was irrelevant.
“He’s got free reign of the ship,” Violetta said with a shrug, her nonchalance worsening Maeve’s mood.
“Not the whole ship,” Maeve responded. She pointed up to a vent above them which had been unscrewed, and was casually floating by a narrow, exposed air duct.
“And you were meant to stop him,” Violetta reminded her.
“He freaking bit me!” Maeve blurted out, shoving her hand in Violetta’s face. The commander smirked as she could clearly make out the reddened tooth marks against Maeve’s ashen palm.
“Poor baby,” Violetta said. She quickly stripped off her jacket, leaving her in a sleek jumpsuit that she found useful for shipboard operations. With a casual flick, she tossed the jacket at Maeve’s face. The shorter woman snatched it out of the air. She snarled back and seemed ready to lunge at her commander, but a scowl from Jackson put her in her place.
“I’ll fix it,” Violetta said with a theatrical sigh. She crouched briefly then kicked off from the floor, tucking in her shoulders to glide effortlessly into the exposed duct. She slid between the narrow walls, pushing off with either hand to guide her and easily twisting her body to wind around the duct’s tight corners.
Soon enough all other sounds began to fade. Maeve sharp voice and Jackson’s low rumble were replaced with the soothing background hum of the ship. Generators, ventilation, hydraulics and a thousand other systems working in harmony to tell her in one united voice: All is well.
She strained her ears to make out details in the noise. There it was, faintly echoing from all around her. The fast, excited breathing of her fugitive, slowly calming down but still desperate from his flight. Violetta glanced between several different ducts, trying to make out the source.
“I grew up in these, you know,” she said, seemingly to nobody. Here words rang around the ventilation, coming back to her from different paths. “Little Vi, hiding from her daddy’s moods.”
A sharp inhalation of surprise came from her left. Unseen, she smiled and slowly started to drift in that direction. “What, you thought I had it easy? Some kind of BattleMech Princess, reigning over everything in the lap of luxury?” She paused, keeping her ears open, catching the faint scuffle of cloth on leather. She altered her trajectory, angling upwards and away from the noise.
“This ain’t that sort of unit, kid.” As she spoke, she twisted around, slithering through a tight junction like a snake. She turned feet-first and began to impel herself backwards along the duct. She projected her voice behind her, letting it echo the way she came. “We’ve struggled for everything we have. What you saw, well, that’s our way of keeping ahead of the game.”
Stretching her palms out to either side of the duct, she gently brought herself to a halt. Beneath her, down another narrow passage, she could make out the shadowed form of Yasir, the youth almost invisible in the darkness. Violetta lowered her voice to a stage whisper, letting it carry throughout the crawlspace in all directions. “And you think I’ll let a little nobody like you stop us?”
She could see Yasir starting to panic, his breathing quickening as he glanced around in all directions but up, trying to find where the voice came from. Violetta silently slid the sole grating between them out of the way and launched herself down at her prey.
At the last possible second Yasir glanced up, seeing her descend on him, arms outstretched. In a blur of motion he surged back up at her. There was a sudden flurry of movement, a searing fast lunge and a painful snatch, and before either could account for what happened it was over. Grasping his wrist tightly, Violetta slammed his hand against a bolt in the wall. He gasped in pain, letting slip the screwdriver from his grasp.
Violetta smiled at the tool as it floated past, feeling where it had scraped by her neck in his desperate lunge. She twisted her grip, using the momentum to bring them both face to face, centimetres apart.
“You know what?” she said with a twisted grin. “I think you’ll fit in great here.”
-
Guest chapter by KayEmm
Interlude - Desolation
Wingzar
Periphery, Anti-Spinward of the Lyran Commonwealth
6 May 3149
“Where are you?”
Kaitlyn Farris looked out over the desolate landscape before her, taking in the vision of barren hell it presented. Everything about this place spoke of decay and abandonment, from the stark, bare trees that reached into the skies, to the muddy puddles of brown water, to the patches of grass and shrubs that seemed to be half wilted and barely alive. That everything was a pale, deathly white only added to the image, to the point where the sky itself was a washed-out shade.
The only motion came on the wind, as it would sporadically kick up clouds of white, ashy powder, sending it wafting across the landscape to settle on whatever it found. She had no idea where it came from or why it coated everything, only that it was a part of what had killed this planet.
When she had asked Iulia about Wingzar, her second had described it as a poisoned world, a sentiment that she couldn’t help but agree with after seeing it up close. The white powder that coated everything was no natural phenomenon, but rather the result of both rampant industrialisation and then failed terraforming centuries ago. There was no denying the impact man had on the world, given the numerous ruins that dotted its surface. As she looked over the landscape again, she couldn’t help but be drawn to the odd remnant of civilisation that clawed its way out of the ash. Structures, either abandoned or fallen into ruin, the impressions of roads in the ash, even lines of transmission towers that marched on to oblivion, their purpose long lost.
Kaitlyn was standing on top of what had once been an office building that was in turn on the outskirts of a long-abandoned town. While the structures in town were still relatively intact, they were also so very much empty. Nobody had lived in the town for centuries, not that anyone could given the poisoned water, soil and sky around them.
The Iron Knights had made the town their forward operational base in their hunt for the White Death pirate band, a name that she couldn’t help but feel appropriate given the world where they laired. Their DropShips were parked nearby on the ruins of a highway, the pair of massive forms looming over everything around them. The town held little actual value beyond simply being a handy point of reference as they sought their targets.
Said targets had so far proved to be elusive, however. While their intelligence had put the White Death on this world and narrowed down the continent and region, that still left a lot of ground to cover.
“Anything to report?” Iulia interrupted her thoughts. Kaitlyn turned around to nod to her second in command as she approached. She cut a distinctive figure regardless of where she was, with long black hair accentuated by elaborate tattoos that covered much of her body, bits of which were peeking out from her usual, hard-wearing leathers. Iulia’s only concession to the situation was the bandanna that she was wearing over her nose and mouth, which was oddly practical compared to everything else.
“Nothing so far,” Kaitlyn replied. By comparison, she seemed somewhat subdued, with scruffy brown hair tied up into a long ponytail and light blue eyes. She was wearing her usual fatigues, with her ever-present scarf now wrapped around her face. “This world’s every bit as dead as you said it would be.”
Iulia nodded as she took her place next to Kaitlyn, looking out over the ruins. “The White Death hide here because they know nobody will look for them,” she considered. “I wonder how much of its poison is now seeping its way into their bodies.”
“Always with the rosy outlook,” Kaitlyn nodded. The pair of them had agreed that wherever the White Death were hiding would need several traits; a place for them to shelter from the elements and the ash in the air and a place to park their DropShips would be key among them, which meant they were likely using one of the abandoned, but still standing industrial sites. And while the presence of two DropShips should have stood out, the presence of so much abandoned industrial infrastructure meant that they had plenty of cover.
On the first day on-world, their aerospace fighters had spotted what they thought were the DropShips from the air. When the Iron Knights had approached the site, they had found a pair of massive gas tanks that had been painted to resemble DropShips from the sky. The White Death did not want to be found.
“Yamashita will find them,” Iulia simply commented.
“You sure?” Kaitlyn asked. “I have ‘Mechs, hovertanks, VTOLs and fighters out there looking for them.”
“I know,” she nodded. “But he has never failed me before.”
“You’re pretty confident in his abilities,” Kaitlyn noted. “You’re not worried that all of this might be a danger to him?” She waived her hands in the air to indicate the polluted land and skies.
Iulia shrugged. “He is Oamani de Deal. His people lived for centuries on a world that was determined to kill them. If he could not survive this, then he would not have lived this long.”
Kaitlyn shook her head. Iulia had answered her question without actually explaining a thing, something she did a lot. Not that I can talk, she mentally added.
The pair of them fell into silence as they continued to look over the landscape for any signs of their targets. The closest that Kaitlyn saw was one of the local creatures, a stag-like creature whose white skin was dotted with lesions and growths. It didn’t take much to imagine how it had gotten that way.
“I was thinking,” Iulia spoke up, “about your responsibilities to your men and your family line.”
Kait did her best not to rise to her comment. “And as always you bring this up at the least appropriate time.”
“It is an important matter. One you should address.”
Her response was a resigned sigh. “We’ve been over this, Iulia.”
“I know,” Iulia nodded. “But I was thinking about it. I could carry your child for you.”
“That’s... very generous of you,” Kaitlyn admitted before immediately bouncing back. “Of course, if that child was a girl she would then be the heir to your kingdom and get you out of your mother’s bad books.”
“Well yes,” Iulia admitted, her tone full of feigned innocence. “But I was just saying, that’s all.”
“Sure,” Kaitlyn responded with a small chortle before going back to scanning the horizon.
Maybe a minute passed before Iulia’s communicator beeped, her second turning to answer the call. After a few exchanges, she turned back to Kaitlyn. “That was Yamashita.”
“And?”
“He’s found them,” Iulia replied, an ever so slight hint of smugness in her voice.
-
Guest chapter by Zogster
Interlude - Night Shift
Nestled snugly in the cockpit of her Panther, Audrey Yamashita couldn’t help but think how soothing night recon was. She felt invisible in the darkness, a brief chance to be alone with her thoughts. Seemingly the only thing she could trust these days.
Her lance was meant to be on the lookout for mercenary forces, aiding the Federated Suns ‘occupiers’ of the planet. Occupiers of a planet that they had inhabited for centuries, but still, that wasn’t how her sho-sa saw it. While most of the mercenary forces were accounted for, her lance was meant to take a broad sweep to confirm and rejoin the main force.
The dark stillness of the night was interrupted by a distant glow. Out over the sweeping, undulating planes, kilometres away, her sensors picked up a bright and blazing fire. It must be huge, she thought, quickly checking her map. A chill went down her spine as her worst fears were confirmed. Right in that direction lay the region’s agricultural hub, centre of its massive automated farming industry and support for its workers and their families.
And it was all burning.
She opened up her long-range comms, calling back to her unit’s commander. “Sho-sa, this is Chu-I Yashima. I have a settlement nearby that is alight. Request permission to divert and offer aid.”
“Negative, Chu-I,” came the surprisingly gentle voice on the other end. “Stick to patrol schedule.”
“Sir, we can’t abandon them. The settlement is populated.”
“By Davions.” Her commander’s words hit her hard. Was she to abandon the people because of their nationality?
“Stick to the mission, Audrey,” the commander gently reminded her.
Mission. Right. A desperate thought popped into her head. She turned her Panther towards the blaze and throttled up, pushing it to its maximum speed. “Sir, I think I see BattleMechs on site. Moving to engage.”
“Very well, Chu-I,” the commander replied. Audrey’s lance fell in step, keeping pace with her Panther.
Her comms briefly crackled to life, as her second-in-command chimed in. “Not to question you, Chu-I, but I don’t see anything on the screen.”
“Most likely interference from the blaze,” Audrey said. She glanced back at her own tactical map. As before, no sign of hostiles. “But I’ve got them on my scope.”
“Understood,” her 2IC responded.
They were on the settlement in minutes, and Audrey took quick stock of the situation. Much of the agricultural equipment was already alight, as were several public buildings and homes. Conspicuously, the massive granaries were untouched, and she could see a small convoy of trucks in the distance making their way to the community.
“This is a raid,” she said, as much to herself as her unit. Who would do this? “Black Lance, stay sharp. Enemies could be anywhere.”
As soon as she said that, everything seemed to happen at once. A spindly IndustrialMech staggered into sight, weighted down by the massive tank on its back. It opened up a sprayer on one arm and immediately began dousing the mass of burning industrial equipment. Almost as soon as it appeared, a Calliope emerged from within the blaze. It let forth a volley of missiles and close range. Audrey watched in horror as they bust before the IndustrialMech, splattering it and the ground around it with viciously burning gel.
“Black Three and Four, protect the firefighter!” Audrey sprang into action, issuing orders without even thinking. “Black Two, with me.” Audrey’s Panther surged forwards, her 2IC’s Jenner moving alongside her. Both leapt directly in front of the Calliope, catching it by surprise and volleying it with short range missiles.
The enemy 'Mech stumbled back, twisting as it moved to try and gain range and cover from its attackers. It returned fire, its arm-mounted cannon firing an intense jet of blue flame. The Panther and Jenner split up, circling it in opposite directions.
“Black Two, keep him from the settlement,” Audrey barked out as she circled the Calliope, concentrating her own plasma cannon on it.
“Hai, Chu-I,” came her second’s reply. As soon as the mercenary ‘Mech was focused on Audrey, the Jenner surged forwards once more, pounding its rear with a further volley of missiles. It tried to manoeuvre away from the pair, swinging its plasma rifle around to track the Jenner even while trying to find cover from Audrey’s blistering fire.
Audrey was poised to close in when her sensors rang out, warning her of another incoming foe. Before she could even react, a tall storehouse burst apart as the distinctive figure of a Hunchback crashed through it. More on instinct than anything, she thumbed her jump jets, expecting a hail of autocannon fire.
Instead, a pair of blue flames lanced out from its bulky shoulder mount, tracing after her into the sky. She tracked down with her own cannon, the streams of superhot plasma intermingling, washing across both ‘Mechs.
Audrey felt the flood of heat in her cockpit as much as she saw her BattleMech’s temperature gauge shoot up. She angled her jets, desperately seeking cover. The mangled, burning wreckage of the settlement’s agricultural machinery was the best she could find, and she landed behind them for a brief respite.
I get it now, Audrey thought, understanding the Hunchback’s odd configuration. They’re set up for resource raids. Burn down soft targets while the trucks take off with everything. Before she could respond however, she heard a new roaring sound over the burning structure behind her. The Hunchback roared through the air overhead, spinning in flight to bring its plasma weapons into line once more. Audrey kicked her Panther into gear, barely avoiding the paired superhot lances that shot down at her. She kept her own cannon trained on the Hunchback, washing it with plasma fire even as she scattered missiles across its upper body.
The two duelled for a moment, Audrey using her advanced jump jets to mostly keep ahead of the heavier ‘Mech, but still feeling the heat rise as its plasma rifles licked across her Panther, dangerously weakening its armour. Her map showed Black Two tangling with the enemy’s Calliope, while Three and Four were engaging further unknown units.
I can’t keep this up forever, Audrey thought. I don’t have the firepower to drive this thing off, and as long as they’re on mission –
That was it! Slugging it out with her wasn’t their mission at all. She took a desperate boost with her jets away from the Hunchback towards the isolated granaries. She could see the trucks closing in, almost ready to load up and steal the locals’ produce. She turned her weapons on the road, setting a line of fire across their path. The vehicles ground to a halt as one, then began frantically backing up and steering away from the fire.
“You’re gonna pay for that, mate,” came a booming voice from behind her. The Hunchback came barrelling out of the industrial wreckage, lasers and plasma rifles blazing at her. She jetted directly backwards, rear exposed to the enemy as she arced overhead, bringing her own plasma rifle down on its distinctively hunched shoulder. At close range, the blue flame sliced through what little armour it had left, cutting clean through one of the Hunchback's plasma rifles from behind.
Before either could react, a series of explosions echoed to their side. Audrey turned to see the Calliope running frantically from the slagged industrial wreckage, its armour virtually blasted away by endless missile impacts. Behind it, sections of the industrial equipment erupted in spectacular but fortunately harmless explosions. Seemingly knowing their presence was futile, the Hunchback joined the Calliope in retreating from the settlement.
“Do we pursue?” Black two asked her.
“Negative,” Audrey responded. “They’re beat. We do what we can to help out the people here.”
As her lance formed up, Audrey switched over her comms. “Sho-sa, this is Chu-I Yamashita. Engaged and drove off raider forces. Currently engaged in damage control.”
“Well done, Chu-I,” came the response. “Your instincts served you well.”
“I am happy to serve,” Audrey said, almost automatically. The heat was draining from her cockpit, and she was finally able to take full stock of the situation.
“Be proud of your victory,” came the commander’s voice. “For the Dragon.”
“Yeah,” she said almost to herself, surveying the burning wreckage of the unarmed settlement. Again, she repeated automatically, her voice hollow, “For the Dragon.”
-
Guest Chapter by KayEmm
Interlude - The Career Tourist
Thun, Bali
Kandersteg
Arc-Royal Theatre
Lyran Commonwealth
5 January 3151
Kaitlyn Farris took another sip from her drink, savoring the flavor of the cool, fresh juice. Putting her glass down, she took another look out over the view, taking it in. From the cafe where she was sitting, she was looking down at a broad sweep over the planetary capital of Thun, the city stretching out before reaching an impossibly blue ocean.
“You know, in the five years that I’ve known you, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so relaxed,” Leon Mackinaw commented as he approached her table.
“Does it show?”
“Just a little,” he admitted as he sat down next to her.
“I guess so,” she considered.
“So how does it feel?” Leon asked. “Being here, I mean.”
“Different,” Kait admitted as she looked out over the view to the ocean below. “In many ways, this world is unlike any I’ve ever been to.”
“How so?”
“Hm...” she considered. “I guess my Periphery roots are showing, but it’s just so much more... everything, really.”
“Well that narrows it down,” he smirked.
She looked contemplative for a moment before continuing. “I was born and raised on Erdvynn. That world’s mostly empty desert and mountains, with the population concentrated into slowly dying cities. The worlds I saw after that were ones in the near Periphery or the edge of the Commonwealth; they were all thinly populated, low technology, regressed and often only just scraping by.”
“Gillfillan's Gold was a step up, I admit,” she continued, “capitol world of a small nation and all that. But more importantly, it was growing. It had a future and a direction, instead of just getting by. And while yes, it was clawing its way back up from the ruins of the past, it was still more than the worlds where I had been before.”
“You hired me and half your unit there,” Leon noted. “So it must have had something going for it.”
“Definitely,” Kait agreed. “But yet this...” she glanced out over the view, as if to encompass the city below. “This is so much more.”
“I’m curious as to how you see Kandersteg,” Leon noted. “I guess it’s an outsider perspective. No offence.”
“None taken. I mean, I was born and raised on a world most people have forgotten existed.”
“It sounds like I haven’t missed a thing in not seeing it.”
“You have not,” she chuckled. “But I think the thing that strikes me the most here is that this world is, well, alive.”
“That’s an interesting way to put it.”
“I don’t just mean in the fact that it’s got a temperate climate and lots of water,” she explained. “More of the whole feel of it. This is a high-tech world. The standard of living here is amazing compared to what I’m used to. The people here take for granted things I’d have never thought of. They have advanced industry, a functional economy, readily available clean water, medical care... you name it.”
“I guess what I’m trying to say is that the people here are living, or even thriving,” she finished. “Instead of just struggling to survive.”
“Interesting,” he considered.
“What?”
“I guess I never saw it like that,” Leon explained. “Being born and raised in the Commonwealth, and the core at that, I took a lot of this for granted. I really didn’t see a lot of the difference until I washed up on Gillfillan's Gold, and then it struck me hard.”
“And that was a step up from where I was born.”
“Harsh.”
“Which is actually one of the reasons I wanted to talk to you,” she admitted.
“And why we’re meeting here rather than, say, in our rental office.”
“Exactly,” she nodded. “Because I have come to realise that I definitely will need your help going forward.”
“How so?”
Kait leaned back, glancing out at the view again. “In the past I’ve been able to get by with both my own knowledge and experiences, as well as some help from those around me. Dealing with Periphery people, you tend to be blunt, honest and direct. Nobody wants to mess around or waste time, and getting a result is more important than how you look.”
“I think I see where this is going.”
“Probably,” she nodded. “Previously I’ve been able to lean on Iulia for support and intel. She’s had... insights, ones that were useful in past. But that was in the Periphery. Her knowledge doesn’t extend that far into the Inner Sphere, and I can’t use that now.”
“But since I was born and raised in the Commonwealth, and was a member of the LCAF, I can help you out there,” he concluded.
“Exactly,” she smiled. “You can offer me insights and advice. Not just on tactics or equipment or the like, but how people act and think and what they want. Help me with how to deal with them and the like, and how not to appear like such a wide-eyed Periphery rube.”
He laughed at that last comment. “You’re not that bad.”
“I’m gawping in awe at a city that doesn’t look like a shantytown,” she shot back. “While being amazed that everyone here has a car and that there’s a planetary computer network you can access from a personal communicator.”
“Okay, so maybe you have a bit to learn.”
“See?” She admitted. “That’s why I need your help.”
“Trust me, I have plenty of experience with being screwed over by Lyran nobles.” He wiggled his right hand to prove the point.
“Sorry.”
“It’s fine,” Leon smiled. “Really, I understand your situation and I’m glad to help. If we are going to make this work, then it makes sense for you to use every asset you have at your disposal.”
“Thank you,” she nodded. “I admit that it’s not going to be a promotion; that’d take a lot of restructuring and make things more of a mess then they are already. But, uh, I’d see you get a staff bonus in your pay for your work.” She paused. “And putting up with Iulia. She’s a lot to deal with.”
“Five years and I still haven’t figured her out,” Leon admitted. “I think she likes it that way.”
“About right.”
“It sounds good to me, though,” he agreed. “And I’m happy to help. Although I know that Captain Snegwort is not going to like my being given a place at your side.”
“Buster doesn’t like anything.”
“Well, true.”
Kait sat back in her chair. “Thank you, Leon.”
“You gave a washed up, Dispossessed, maimed veteran a chance. Least I can do in return.” He glanced out at the view. “So here’s your first lesson.”
“Go on.”
“Kandersteg has a population of about 115 million,” he explained.
She blinked. “Wow, that’s like... Erdvynn, Calvados, Tatopani, Milvano and a couple of other worlds I’ve been to mashed together and then multiplied.”
“Right,” he nodded. “Thing is, this is a low population world for the region. Most of the worlds around here have populations in the hundreds of millions, if not billions.”
“That’s...” she paused as if running things through her mind. “That is a lot.”
-
Interlude - Counter-Counterpoint
Galatea City
Galatea
Galatean League
23 Febuary 3151
Isabella de Luca drank in the aromas of the coffee lounge as she sat, waiting for her meeting. The combination of different, exotic blends from across the Inner Sphere created a delightful atmosphere, hinting at distant places and far-flung worlds. She’d taken her time picking out her order, enjoying the wide variety of options presented to her. Unlike her meetings with Blackrock, she actually was willing to take her time with this one, blend in and not make a scene.
Besides which, she knew that the man she was meeting would do that for her.
Due to his sheer size alone, Leonid Stanislav would have attracted attention regardless as he entered. His thick beard and glowering eyes made him stand out even more, giving him a fierce presence that was impossible to ignore. And she knew full well that not only was he aware of it, but that he actively cultivated.
“Lovely to see you,” she beamed.
“I suppose,” Leonid dismissively replied as he sat down opposite her.
“The menu here is extensive,” she offered.
“Bah,” He snorted. “They will not have my favourite brew. It was the drink of my father and his father before him, the one that I grew up with. The brew that I will never drink again, for it comes only from that home that is lost to me.”
“You have to make a big production out of everything,” Isabella chortled. “And it impresses almost everyone.”
He gave a dismissive snort. “Does anything impress you?”
“Look at my two marriages and ask me that again.”
“Hah,” he simply shot back.
“So how did you go?” Isabella asked.
“Did you not read my report?” Leonid gruffly replied.
“I mean, of course I did,” she shrugged. “The whole information sharing thing and all that. I’m not that lazy. What I meant was, how did things feel out there?”
“Hm,” he rumbled. “The mercenaries that the Lyrans sent as us were... weak,” he finally spoke. “They chose to stand down and negotiate a surrender rather than fight us.”
“Naturally you took all that in an entirely calm and stoic manner, and did not laugh in their faces or threaten to, I dunno, murder their families for the next three generations.”
That produced a loud laugh, before Leonid continued. “Ah, you know me too well.”
“I am somewhat surprised that you faced any opposition at all,” she continued. “I was betting that the Lyrans wouldn’t even want to risk the garbage-tier mercs that they could hire at this point.”
“One would think so,” Leonid admitted. “And yet, we did face forces they sent after us. We skirmished, and then they chose to surrender once they knew they were outmatched.”
“And then you engaged in some performative menacing and cursing.”
“A little,” Leonid admitted.
“So to loop back to where I was, how did it feel out there?”
“So on the one side, it feels like the Lyrans are scared. They have watched the Falcons and the Wolves devour their realm, and now they see the Eagle coming as well. On top of that they have pirates and breakaway states and a stray, would-be Archon. So they run and hide, and they send garbage mercenaries to do their work because they cannot even manage that.”
“However, this is you, so there is always a ‘but’.”
Leonid nodded. “They still sent mercenaries out to probe the Eagle’s reach. That tells me that they are scared, yes, but at the same time, they are not defeated. No, I think they are waiting and biding their time.”
“They need a breather.”
“Indeed,” Leonid nodded. “And how did you fare?”
“Well, you know what they say,” Isabella nodded. “Killing Cappies is its own reward.”
That bought on a chortle. “Hm, how are the Capellans feeling?”
Isabella looked thoughtful for a moment as she considered her recent experiences. “In a strange way, I think it was the opposite of how things were going with the Lyrans. Right now, they’re on top of the world. They’ve crippled the Suns and pushed deep into the Republic. They’ve reclaimed worlds that they haven’t held in centuries, and have been racking up victory after victory. They’re one jump from Terra by now. And even after they lost New Sytris, they’re still coming out ahead.”
“And yet?”
“And yet, it’s like they’re afraid of something,” she explained. “Like they’re expecting some horrible twist that only they can see coming. I have no idea what it is, though.” She paused a moment in thought. “Or maybe it’s just that Cappies aren’t used to winning and have no idea what to do now that it’s happening.”
“Hm.” He nodded. “The universe pauses.”
“I guess,” she shrugged. “How are things otherwise?”
“What is there to say?” Leonid considered. “The information that our friend provided has been most useful, as has the support. Your man, van Nurdlehammer has also helped.”
“Does Zeke still curse my name and spit on the ground when I’m mentioned?”
“All the time,” he chortled.
She glanced around a moment, before leaning in. “Do you trust our friend? Be honest here.”
“Hm,” Leonid considered. “On one hand, I am not sure how I feel about him. It is clear that he has his own agenda, and he is clearly using us for his own ends.”
“And again, the inevitable ‘but’ is coming.”
“He hates the Clans,” Leonid nodded. “And that is all I need.”
-
Guest Chapter by Zogster
Interlude - Homecoming
Malcheema, Arcturus
July 3151
Kommandant Wynter DeVires stepped into the former administrator’s office in the Malcheema capitol building and snapped a crisp salute. Before her, behind an ornate dark wood desk sat Hauptmann General Sarah Regis, her commanding officer and fellow traitor.
Sarah stood and returned the salute. The plush office spoke of familiar comforts. Rich dark wooded cabinets lined the wall behind the desk, cluttered with expensive books, trinkets and mementos. A well-stocked bar sat off to the side, the refrigerator concealed in a similarly aged wooden cabinet. But the other wall was dominated by a broad window, giving a clear view of Malcheema, capital city of Arcturus, and the people starving below.
“Hauptmann General,” Wynter said, dropping her hand to her side.
“At ease, Kommandant,” Sarah responded. “I think we’re beyond that.”
Wynter nodded, although she did not visibly relax. Instead, she passed a tablet to Sarah, with a report ready and open on the screen. Rather than read it, Sarah put it aside and instead moved to the bar. She fussed with a pair of glasses for a moment before turning back to Wynter. “Scotch?”
“Neat,” Wynter replied, finally relaxing. She stepped forward and took the glass from her commanding officer. The pair pulled on their drinks for a moment, each reminiscing.
Wynter had known Sarah Regis from decades past, back on Arcturus. They were more in the same social circle than truly friends, but it was one of the reasons why Wynter had joined this odd crusade. Sarah had a well-deserved reputation for letting her actions speak for her, not her position or her family name. And so when Wynter had been assigned to the 26th Arcturan Guards under Sarah’s command, she knew the unit would go on to do great things.
Of course, she could never have imagined just what they would be.
“How bad is it?” Sarah eventually asked.
“Bad,” Wynter began. The pair moved to the window, looking out over the classical architecture of Malcheema that had stood for centuries. “The proxy government installed by the LCAF seemed to do little to repair the damage inflicted by Wolf occupation. Then the Falcons all but stripped the world to feed their forces. When they left, they didn’t need to ransack the planet; it was pretty much all in their hands already.”
“The people?” Sarah asked.
“Not good. We’ve got food shortages across the world.”
Sarah nodded thoughtfully. “Alright. Tap into the supplies we brought with us. It’s not much, but it should help out while we get infrastructure up and running.”
“Already on it,” Wynter replied. Sarah cocked an eyebrow at her, to which Wynter only gestured at the report sitting unread on her desk. “I figured you wouldn’t be one for waiting on protocol.”
Sarah cracked a smile, and with an amused chuckle finally picked up the tablet. She scrolled through the report until a particular name caught her eye.
“Civilian consultant Oakley DeVires.” She looked up at her subordinate whose face was carefully neutral. “Your husband came with you?”
“Yes ma’am,” Wynter replied, taking up a more formal posture.
Sarah studied her for a moment, before cracking a smile. “And why is he in charge down there?” she asked, more amused than reproachful.
“He’s a civil engineer by training. Large-scale disaster relief is his specialty.”
Wynter watched Sarah’s amusement grow, and allowed herself to relax. “When we got the first reconnaissance reports, he was eager to come along and lend a hand. Honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him happier.” She smiled as she remembered Oak’s enthusiasm, and how eager he was to help the people of Malcheema.
“And the boys?” Sarah asked out of nowhere.
Wynter was taken aback for a moment. In truth it had been a while since she had seen either of her sons. And with the state of interstellar communications, she had barely a chance to let them know what she was doing let alone wait for a reply.
Wynter was a soldier. Her family knew that, knew that each time she left she may never return. But this was different. While the battlefield risks were still present, the simple fact was that she had committed treason. She may never see them again.
“They’re doing well,” she eventually replied. That at least she could admit to. “Oscar is following in my footsteps, and has just been admitted to the Nagelring.”
“You must be proud,” Sarah said.
“Very.” Wynter allowed herself a smile. “I think he’ll make a fine officer.”
“And Theodore?”
“Theodore’s… going through a patch. He’s a teenager. He doesn’t know what he wants to do with his life, only that he doesn’t want to be part of the ‘oppressors,’ whatever that means.” She sighed. “He’s smart, he’ll grow out of it.”
“Did you think of bringing them with you?”
Wynter slowly shook her head. “They never knew Arcturus. Both of them were born on Tharkad. This isn’t their home, and it really isn’t their fight.”
“You must miss them.”
She nodded. “It’s weird. I’ve been on longer deployments away from my family, and we only just got here, but already…”
“The magnitude of what we’ve done is sinking in,” Sarah spoke up, perfectly completing her thought.
“Exactly.”
Sarah Regis turned once more to the window, looking out over the streets of Malcheema. There was movement below them, with elements of the 26th Arcturan Guard already spreading out and setting up relief and aid stations.
“This is going to be so much more than just one world. You see the state that our home has been left in, and you can feel that there is so much more to do. Arcturus is not alone in having suffered under Clan occupation.”
Wynter felt it too. While she had fought against the Clans for decades, at the same time she felt like she was sitting on the sidelines. Their occupation zones had been allowed to remain, the Lyran citizens left to languish under their rule. And even when Arcturus had been retaken, the Commonwealth had done little to nothing to aid its people.
“Hauptmann General?” Wynter said, turning to her commanding officer. Sarah straightened up and faced her, looking her straight in the eye. “I want you to know that I’m committed. Whatever needs to be done. For Arcturus and beyond.” She snapped a sharp salute, which Sarah immediately returned.
“Thank you, Kommandant,” she replied. Sternly, earnestly and with utter faith, Sarah Regis said, “I know you’ll do your homeworld proud.”
-
Moring News
Terry McKinnon quietly slipped out of bed as not to disturb the woman sleeping next to him, quickly putting on a dressing gown as he went. The room was still only half light, with hints of sunrise creeping in through the blinds.
At least that’s how it looked. The room really had no windows, being deep underground to escape the scorching Galatean heat. The combination of the decor and the lifelike holographic wall panels created the illusion of a tropical retreat, even if the building more resembled a concrete bunker. The result was convincing as long as you didn’t think about it too much.
Not that Terry had. There were other things on his mind.
He returned to the bedroom to find the lights on, his partner sitting up, even if she was still covered by the sheets. “Good morning to you, Terry McKinnon,” she began, beaming.
“And good morning to you too, Irisz Magyari,” he smiled back as he sat down next to her, giving her a brief kiss. “How are you doing this wonderful morning?”
Wearing only the sheets and her eyepatch, she leaned on his shoulder. “Wonderfully relaxed,” she admitted. “Its so good to see you.”
“And its great to see you too,” Terry replied, kissing her on the cheek to the slightest giggle of a reply. “I missed you so much while we were away.”
“I’ll bet,” she continued. “And trust me, the feeling was mutual.”
“Well we’re here now,” Terry considered. “And in no rush to go anywhere.”
As if on cue, a beeping noise cut into the conversation. “My communicator,” Irisz sighed.
“Don’t answer it.”
“It might be important,” she countered.
“It can wait,” Terry suggested. “Just enjoy the moment, okay?”
She sighed. “I know,” a smile creeping back onto her face. “Whatever it is, I’m sure it can wait.” A moment later, the communicator stopped. “See?”
“Now where were-“ Terry began, only to be cut off as his own began beeping. “Son of a...”
“Okay, either that’s terrible timing or somebody’s trying to reach both of us,” Irisz considered.
“Yeah,” Terry glanced at the device, then back at her. “I should answer that.”
“Probably,” she admitted as she collected herself.
Shaking his head, Terry picked up the device. “McKinnon speaking.”
“This is Ryback,” the voice on the other end replied. “I need to speak to you and Irisz urgently.” Despite that, his tone was remarkably calm.
Terry glanced at Irisz, who simply sighed. “We’re on our way.”
-----
On the outside, the former Bannson Universal office that had become their meeting room looked much the same as the hotel; a brutalist concrete block, low to the ground and with little to distinguish it from everything around it. The interior was a different story; stripped of all its furniture years ago, it now sported little more than plain grey carpets and bare walls.
The pair of them headed inside to one of the few rooms that showed signs of occupation, a meeting room that had been redecorated with a simple, functional and above all else, cheap table and chairs. Five others were waiting there in the room when the pair arrived, with Kari Moreno immediately approaching the pair of them. “It’s good to see you both,” she began, her tone warm, even if there was just that slightest hint of apprehension.
“And you too,” Irisz replied, then looked around the room “All of you. “Do any of you know what’s going on?”
“None of us do,” Lana Kotovski admitted. “But I have to assume that this is either so important or sensitive that it needs to be covered in person.”
“And right now,” Leonid Stanislav added, giving Irisz only the faintest nod of acknowledgement. “I am thinking that it is two things. The first is that it is indeed very important. The second is that it is not good at all.” His tone was gruff, but also wary, like he was genuinely expecting the worst.
“Well there goes my morning,” Terry spoke up. Irisz simply shook her head, but Kari managed a nervous smile.
The other two present hadn’t spoken so far. Alexis Fairchild was leaning up against one wall, her arms crossed as she glowered at the room with her usual quiet intensity. If she knew what was going on, or had any concerns at all, she didn’t let it show.
On the other hand, Gillian Blackrock was doing her best to act clam, but Irisz couldn’t help but notice the way that she was occasionally glancing at the door. It was a trait she’d never seen in the infobroker before, one that suggested something was amiss. Whatever is going on is not something she knows about, Irisz considered. And she doesn’t like being out of the loop.
Neither Isabella de Luca nor Lanie King were present, both being off-world on contracts with their units. Which also means that whatever is going on is too important to wait, she considered.
An opening door was enough to get everyone’s attention, moreso as Ryback stepped in. “Thank you all for coming on such short notice,” he began, his voice not betraying any emotion even as he joined them. “I only just got this information myself.”
He paused a moment, looking around the room before continuing. “At the start of the year, both the Jade Falcons and the Wolf Empire were somehow able to breach the final walls around Terra. Both Clans invaded the world. The Republic... has fallen.” As much as he was attempting to remain impassive, there was a clear pause there, as if he was struggling to say it. Irisz immediately glanced over to Lana, who visibly winced at the news.
“The two Clans then fought a trial for control of the world,” he continued. “At the end of that trial, the Wolves were victorious and the Jade Falcon forces nearly completely destroyed. Alaric Ward has declared the Wolves to be the ilClan, and himself the ilKhan.”
There was a tense silence in the air as those present struggled to digest the news. Irisz said nothing, but took a deep breath, digesting the news and the enormity of all it represented. Terry shot her a nervous glance in reply, clearly doing his best to keep things under control. Lana drew in a shaky breath, carefully not looking at anyone. Kari was visibly shaken, one hand twitching as she was clearly running things through her mind to figure what was going on. Fairchild and Leonid were both understated, but with a lot of emotion hidden no less. She was quietly clenching her fists, while he narrowed his eyes, glowering.
“Can you verify this?” The silence was broken as Blackrock spoke up.
“There were certain phrases and codes hidden within the information,” he replied. “Their presence is enough for me to confirm all of it.”
“So what do we do now?” Lana asked.
Ryback looked around the room. “Our mission has not changed,” he simply explained. “This was a possibility I had to consider when I put all this together.” He leaned down, his hands on the table. “We fight.”
-
Guest character by KayEmm
Kaitlyn Farris
Position/Rank: Major
Affiliation/Unit: Mercenary/Farris’ Iron Knights
Birth Year: 3117 (estimated)
Blackstone’s Iron Knights were one of the many mercenary units that worked for the Word of Blake during the Jihad. Like the other units that did such, it was charged with war crimes by the MRBC, with bounties placed on the heads of its officers. The unit remained loyal to the Word, largely due to being backed into a corner and unable to go anywhere else. During the collapse of the Word of Blake Protectorate in the last days of that conflict, the unit finally broke and fled, with its depleted force heading towards the anti-spinward Periphery.
For the next six decades, there were no recorded sightings of the unit in the Inner Sphere or near Periphery. The MRBC simply assumed that the unit had been destroyed or fallen to piracy, and wrote it off like the majority of the other units that had worked for the Word of Blake. Blackstone’s Iron Knights simply became another footnote in the annals of the Successor States, destined to be forgotten outside of their minor contributions to that conflict.
In 3144, a battered JumpShip arrived in the Gillfillan’s Gold system, its crew signalling that they had no hostile intent. In a series of back and forward communiques, they identified themselves as Farris’ Iron Knights, a mercenary command that was seeking to land to acquire supplies and look for employment. Their commander introduced herself as Kaitlyn Farris, a descendent of Patrick Farris, the unit’s last known executive officer. She offered no explanations as to where the unit came from or the like, simply stating that her unit had no hostile intent.
Avoiding answering any questions about her past, Kaitlyn set about building up her command. While she had a small core of personnel and a collection of combat-worthy ’Mechs and vehicles, she knew that she would need to expand in order to survive. Her crew hires focused not only on experience, bit also knowledge of the region and especially the Lyran Commonwealth, a move that was clearly aimed at ensuring that she knew what her command was getting in to. These hires and purchases were paid for with a combination of rare minerals and gemstones, raising further questions as to where her unit had came from.
Fortunately, she found that there was no shortage of work for her unit. Over the next five years, the Iron Knights spent much of their time fighting the pirates that were a common threat to the worlds of the region. While initially working for employers in the Rim Collection (and its successor, the Timbuktu Collective), she also began taking contracts from employers within the Lyran Commonwealth as that state’s situation continued to decline.
Regardless of her past, Kaitlyn Farris is still a capable officer. She has worked well with what she has, forging a rather disparate and mismatched group into an effective fighting force. Like many other periphery mercenary commands, the Iron Knights face the constant risk of collapse, insolvency or simply degenerating into pirates. However, those that follow her seem to do such out of a sense of loyalty and respect, rather than the desperation and lack of better options that are so common in the trade. A part of that comes from her respect for the privacy of her men; she does not pry into their pasts, and expects them to do the same for her.
For the moment, Kaitlyn refuses to be drawn on the issue of where her unit came from or where it has been for the last five decades, instead focusing on the here and now. She also is rather elusive about the fate of the Blackstone family, and why they are no longer leading the unit, simply stating that they are no longer in the picture.
Warhammer IIC (Modified)
Mass: 80 tons
Chassis: SJR-80 Endo
Powerplant: Type 10 320 Fusion
Cruising Speed: 43 kph
Maximum Speed: 64 kph
Jump Jets: Grandthrust Mk 5
Jump Capacity: 120 meters
Armour: Forging ZM15 Ferro-Fibrous
Armament:
2 Type DDS Kingston Extended-Range PPCs
2 Series 14a Medium Pulse Lasers
1 Series 4 Small Pulse Laser
1 Mk III Type 22 SRM-6
Comm System: TDWS-37 Mk 2.2
T&T System: “Hades” CT-44
One of the many oddities surrounding the Iron Knights is the BattleMech used by its commander. Kaitlyn Farris pilots a Warhammer IIC, which is not only the heaviest ‘Mech in the unit, but also the only Clan-built one on their roster. What makes it unusual is that she already possessed the ’Mech when she arrived in the Inner Sphere. Furthermore, the ’Mech is in a unique configuration that includes jump jets.
Kaitlyn uses these two elements to her advantage on the battlefield. Where possible, she will try to get her opponents to underestimate her, and not realise what she is capable of until it is too late. Where possible, this will include refraining from using her jump jets until after engaging an opponent in order to surprise them. However, given the low-tech opponents she often faces, a simple brute-force approach also works well.
As with so many other things about the unit, Kaitlyn refuses to discuss where her BattleMech came from, commenting only that she ‘got it for Christmas’. Whether this is a joke on her part of if she is entirely sincere is another matter.
-
Guest character by Zogster
Violetta Vujic
Position/Rank: Major
Affiliation/Unit: Mercenary/Red Reavers
Birth Year: 3112
In many ways, Violetta Vujic is the product of the environment and circumstances that she was raised in. Her father was Kazmir Vujic, the leader of the Red Rangers, a small mercenary command that worked primarily in the former Free Worlds League. The Rangers were neither a large nor wealthy group, and survived by taking contracts from independent worlds that could not afford anything better.
Kazmir Vujic was at best a distant father, who was focused on keeping his unit running while also descending into alcoholism. While it was fully expected that Violetta would take his place at the head of the unit, he did little to prepare her for the role. Instead, much of her youth was spent with Jackson, another of the unit’s dependents who was close to her age. Jackson helped to educate her in how the unit was run at the ground level, showing her the nuts and bolts of its day-to-day operation. In return, she pushed for him to be trained as a MechWarrior, using her family name as leverage.
The Red Rangers did not handle the Blackout and subsequent surge of conflict well. The unit took a series of bad contracts that saw it suffer both physical and financial losses, ones that pushed it to the brink. Violetta blamed these failures entirely on her father, using his condition as proof of his being unfit to command. With the aid of Jackson and several other officers, she deposed him in 3136, taking command of the unit herself. Abandoning Kazmir on a minor independent world, she set out to rebuild the unit in her own image.
Her first act was to rebrand the unit as the Red Reavers, a move that was as much about putting her own stamp on it as it was distancing them from their past. While continuing to be employed as mercenaries, she took advantage of the chaos and communications disruptions caused by the HPG blackouts to supplement the unit’s fortunes through piracy. The chaos caused by Operation HAMMERFALL and the destruction of the Marik-Stewart Commonwealth provided her with plenty of opportunities, but it was not to last.
Following the reunification of the Free Worlds League, Violetta relocated the unit to Galatea in order to further expand its prospects. She found that the functional collapse of the MRBC had provided fruitful ground from which to recruit and find contracts that she could exploit to her benefit. At the same time, she cemented her control of the unit by hiring new crews who would be loyal to her and have no qualms about engaging in dubious acts. Often she chose to take contracts from lesser powers or more remote worlds so that she could continue to engage in acts of piracy, theft and outright raiding. Rather than simply taking whatever she could, she instead focused on those acts that her unit could get away with or provide a degree of plausible deniability.
Violetta is a driven and determined woman who is ruthless in her aim to get what she wants. She has made it her goal to see that the Red Reavers (and by extension, her) continue to survive and thrive, regardless of the cost to others. In order to secure her position, she has surrounded herself with a cadre of loyal followers who she knows can be relied on to follow orders and operate efficiently and without revealing the truth of her unit and its activities.
GUN-1ERD Gunslinger Legbreaker
Mass: 85 tons
Chassis: Star League XT
Powerplant: VOX 225 XL
Cruising Speed: 32 kph
Maximum Speed: 54 kph
Jump Jets: HildCo Model 12
Jump Capacity: 60 meters
Armour: Kevlar 5000
Armament:
2 Poland Main Model A Gauss Rifles
2 Defiance P5M Medium Pulse Lasers
4 Defiance B3M Medium Lasers
1 Defiance A5L Small Laser
Comm System: Nashan Quartet ComSys with Guardian ECM
T&T System: Nashan Diana Mark II
Despite being the daughter of the unit’s commander, Violetta Vujic was shown very little preferential treatment in her upbringing. She was moved between different positions in the unit as needed, and piloted whatever BattleMech came to hand. She would not acquire a permanent BattleMech assignment until after she took control of the unit when the Red Reapers captured a Gunslinger from a supply convoy. Violetta claimed the BattleMech as her own, using her position to ensure that there were no challengers to her claim.
The Gunslinger suited her in a number of ways. Besides being the heaviest BattleMech in the unit’s roster, it allowed her to lead them in the field without needing to be in the thick of combat due to its long-range firepower. Instead she usually hangs back and engages in highly accurate fire while protected by the rest of her command lance. While she also gets ample use out of its secondary weapons, she finds its leg-mounted lasers to be disproportionately frustrating.
A skilled MechWarrior and marksman in her own right, Violetta is adept at shooting to cripple enemy BattleMechs rather than destroying them outright in order to claim them as salvage. Her habit of shattering the legs of her targets lead to its nickname, Legbreaker. Many within the unit have joked that the name is also a commentary on their unofficial side business.
-
Guest character by Zogster
Coulter Murphy
Position/Rank: Star Captain
Affiliation/Unit: Clan Hell’s Horses/Fire Horse Galaxy
Birth Year: 3132
A trueborn Clan warrior, Coulter Murphy’s career has been driven by his own aggression, but also held in check by circumstances beyond his control.
Coming from a middling Bloodline, Coulter had the odds stacked against him from the outset. As a whole, his sibko performed poorly, with many of its members washing out before they even reached warrior training. The Wranglers offered a harsh assessment that they simply expected very little from the cadets as a whole. However, rather than accepting this, Coulter became even more determined to survive and succeed, and pushed himself hard to ensure that he would become a warrior.
Those estimations proved to be true; Coulter was the only one of his sibko to pass their primary Trial of Position. After a bloody battle, he graduated as a Star Commander, having come close to his third kill. However, fate proved to be on his side as the Hell's Horses were gearing up for their invasion of the Lyran Commonwealth alongside their Jade Falcon allies, which guaranteed Coulter a spot in a frontline unit.
Fighting alongside the Jade Falcons gave Coulter not only valuable experience, but served to further develop his aggression and determination. He became enamored of the Falcon interpretation of the Mongol doctrine, and pushed his own men hard. This drive yielded results, with his unit achieving a number of victories over their Lyran opponents, but also often came at the cost of considerable friendly casualties. A field promotion to Star Captain seemed to only further his aggression, as he drove his men even harder to get results.
He was somewhat disappointed when Fire Horse Galaxy were effectively sidelined from the invasion of Tharkad, leaving them to garrison several captured Lyran worlds. While Coulter served well in dealing with mercenary raids on their garrisons, he would have rather been engaged in continued assaults into the Commonwealth.
Nonetheless, he was recognized for that success by both his superiors and the Bloodnamed warriors of the Murphy Bloodhouse. He was sponsored for his Bloodname, and fought his way through his trials in a series of battles that left his opponents dead more often then not. Following his success, he expected that he would be promoted again, and lead a new wave of invasions.
Instead he was surprised to find that the Hell's Horses had ended their alliance with the Jade Falcons and withdrawn their forces from the front lines. He was slightly mollified when Fire Horse Galaxy was positioned for a possible strike on the heart of their former allies’ occupation zone, an idea that promised considerable glory in battle against a superior foe. As much as he had been enraptured by the Mongol doctrine, he also savored the idea of proving the superiority of the Horses’ original interpretation of it.
That chance never came, however. Instead, Fire Horse Galaxy would remain largely on-station for the next five years without actually launching the promised assault. For Coulter Murphy, the situation became frustrating as he saw his career stalling in the face of indecisive leadership. This lead to him trialing for promotions wherever possible, which has seen him censured within the Grand Council for the sheer number of fights he has gotten into.
The recent mobilisation of the Clan has served as a new outlet for his energies. Seeing a renewed opportunity for battle, Coulter has firmly swung his support behind the Khan and their plans to expand the Horses’ OZ.
Doom Courser Prime
Mass: 70 tons
Chassis: Csesztreg Quad 70.1 Endo Steel
Powerplant: Clan Standard 280 Series
Cruising Speed: 43 kph
Maximum Speed: 64 kph
Jump Jets: None
Jump Capacity: None
Armour: Compound H17 Ferro Fiberous
Armament:
1 Ripper Series A1 Extended Range Particle Projector Cannon
1 Thunderstroke Series 2B Gauss Rifle
1 Type XX “Long Bow” LRM-20
Comm System: CH3V Series Integrated
T&T System: Version Kappa-III TTS
Coulter Murphy has piloted heavy OmniMechs for his entire career. Initially assigned to a Hel, he developed considerable skill at long range fire with heavy weapons. On seeing the design for the first time, he was impressed by the Doom Courser for its ruggedness and firepower, but also for the elements that were symbolic of the Hell's Horses Clan. As soon as he could, he challenged a fellow officer for the ’Mech, claiming it after a vicious fight in which he broke his opponent’s arm.
While adept in all its configurations, Coulter prefers the Prime for its heavy firepower. While an aggressive warrior, he also understands the capabilities and limits of his BattleMech. He prefers to deliver punishing long-range fire to his opponents while taking advantage of the quad BattleMech’s design to protect himself. He likes his opponents to know that he is there, and is willing to suffer whatever return fire he takes in order to secure a kill, a trait aided by the Doom Courser’s durability.
To date, the only real brake on his performance has been his lack of what he considers to be a ‘real’ opponent to test himself against. He eagerly seeks to correct this oversight.
-
Guest character by KayEmm
Iulia Dragan
Position/Rank: Princess
Affiliation/Unit: Mercenary/Farris’ Iron Knights
Birth Year: Unknown
As with many of the core members of Farris’ Iron Knights, the background of Iulia Dragan, the unit’s executive officer is unknown. What makes her particularly unusual is that she seems to hail from a different culture and background to the rest of the unit, one that is, if anything, even more mysterious.
While both a capable MechWarrior and officer in her own right, Iulia Dragan claims to be a princess who is the heir to the throne of an unknown Periphery world. However, she has never once provided any evidence to support that claim, or identified which world it is that she hails from. Nonetheless, her claims are apparently taken entirely seriously by Kaitlyn Farris, who treats her title as being legitimate, despite how strange it may seem. However, she also has done nothing to verify Iulia’s claims, simply stating that it is her business and her choice to reveal what she wants.
The result is that while Iulia cuts a distinctive feature in a number of ways (such as her elaborate full-body tattoos or her language which is sprinkled with seemingly random Romanian words), it is impossible to tell how much of that is due to her claimed background and how much is simply for show. Furthermore, none of these traits are shared with any other members of the Iron Knights which underlies the idea that she is from a separate group and joined the unit at some later point.
Aside from her skills as a MechWarrior and officer, Iulia seems to be very knowledgeable of the worlds in the anti-spinward Periphery region, including their peoples, groups and factions. Given that this includes a number of isolated populations and worlds that are seen as ‘dead’ by most, it is possible that she hails from the region and has travelled in it extensively. This knowledge became a key part of the unit’s early successes after its emergence, aiding it in the pirate-hunting contracts that served as its initial bread and butter. She also works with the unit’s Inner Sphere-born officers to compile knowledge and plan their operations.
On Wingzar, Iulia’s knowledge helped to root out and eliminate the White Death pirate band. Having spent years raiding nearby worlds, the White Death had evaded capture and destruction through taking shelter on a world that had long been marked as ‘dead’ on most maps. The White Death knew that even any would-be hunters tracked them to the world, the planet’s many industrial ruins gave them ample shelter in which to hide. Despite this, Iulia lead the Iron Knights straight to the White Death’s stronghold, allowing them to defeat the pirate band.
In addition to her battlefield and command roles, she also seems to act as some sort of lore-keeper for the unit, recording events, battles and so on. However, rather than doing such in an electronic journal as most people would, she scribes to an ancient-looking tome she refers to as Cartea Morților that also serves as her primary reference.
For all her oddities, Iulia Dragan is clearly loyal to the Iron Knights, and Kaitlyn Farris in specific, on a personal level. She is a skilled MechWarrior and an excellent marksman, while also being a competent field officer and tactician. Her execution of such tasks suggests that she was trained for this role, rather than falling into is as often happens in the Periphery. Those that have served under her have been willing to accept her various eccentricities as the price of success. That the Iron Knights have so far managed to keep their heads above water in the razor-thin margins of the Periphery mercenary market suggests that faith is not misplaced.
MAD-2T Marauder Fantoma Rosie
Mass: 75 tons
Chassis: GM Marauder
Powerplant: 300 Vlar
Cruising Speed: 43 kph
Maximum Speed: 64 kph
Jump Jets: None
Jump Capacity: None
Armour: Valiant Lamellor
Armament:
2 Magna Firestar Extended Range Particle Projector Cannons
2 Magna Mk VI Extended Range Medium Lasers
1 Mydron Excel 5SG LB 5-X Autocannon
Comm System: Dalban Micronics
T&T System: Dalban Hi-Rez
Much like her own background, little is known about the Marauder piloted by Iulia Dragan. While the BattleMech appeared with the rest of the Iron Knights, it was unclear if it had come from the same source or elsewhere. While it is a modern MAD-2T model, by all appearances it is a much older BattleMech that has been refitted, possibly more than once.
Regardless of where they came from, the combination of MechWarrior and BattleMech has proven to be an effective one. Iulia is a skilled marksman, and prefers to fight at long ranges where possible. Perhaps more important then her marksmanship is her uncanny ability to identify enemy commanders on the battlefield, even when they are not in the most obvious target, and then eliminate them. The most dramatic example of this ability came on Wingzar, when she ended the threat of the White Death pirate band by putting a PPC shot through the cockpit of their leader’s Emperor.
Iulia has refused opportunities to upgrade to a more advanced BattleMech, claiming that the Marauder is a family heirloom. She has named the ‘Mech Fantoma Rosie (Red Ghost), a rather fitting title given her lack of past.
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Connor Carson
Position/Rank: Major
Affiliation/Unit: Mercenary/Carson’s Carnivores
Birth Year: 3105
The Carson family had been mercenaries for generations, but they more fell into the position of command that they occupy today. At the end of the Jihad, Claude Carson found himself in command of a battered mercenary unit, one that he rebuilt and led through the years of peace that followed. The unit, renamed Carson’s Carnivores, would remain in his family and continue to operate following the HPG Blackout, taking advantage of the growing chaos that consumed the Inner Sphere.
Connor Carson was raised within the unit with the expectation that he would lead it one day. While he was professionally schooled at an academy (rather then going through the usual route of training within the unit) he showed a flair for dramatic, high-risk maneuvers and leading his forces from the front. While this would often work for him, especially against unprepared opponents, there were those times that such moves would backfire horribly. Despite this, many expected that he would mature into a more measured and sensible commander when the time came.
Following his graduation and actual field duties, he took command of the unit in 3134 after its then leader, his mother Claire, was badly injured in the field. He used the opportunity to somewhat reform the unit, both expanding its numbers and more focusing it on his own style of lighting-fast attacks and close-range fighting. After six months of work, the unit that emerged was both larger and more focused on its newfound specialty.
With the formation of Fortress Republic, the new Carnivores found themselves with no shortage of work. While their high-speed, close-range tactics worked well, their success only served to embolden Carson himself. Far from taking a more responsible approach, he instead chose to lead his unit from the front of the battlefield in the most literal sense, with his BattleMech being in the middle of their attacks. While risky on both a personal and tactical level, these moves worked out well for him and the unit. That Connor was a skilled MechWarrior in his own right, and especially capable with physical attacks, aided in that success.
Ultimately, fate would catch up with him on Kamenz in mid-3145. The combination of superior opponents, a rapidly shifting situation and unreliable allies saw the Carnivores suffer substantial losses on the battlefield. Furthermore, Connor himself was badly injured in combat, the result of his own dedication to being in the thick of the fighting. The Carnivores were forced to retreat off-world; their only consolation is that they did such with the remnants of two other mercenary commands that they had been working with.
In the aftermath, Connor rebuilt the unit through incorporating the survivors of his allied units. This forced a degree of retraining, as the new Carnivores were no longer as focused on rapid attacks, and boasted a broader range of equipment and training. Perhaps in recognition of his own near-death experience, Connor began to take a less risky approach for himself and his command of the unit by not immediately running in to the frontlines of the battle.
This maturing of him as a leader has helped the Carnivores in the years since. The unit has continued to largely operate in the Lyran theatre, taking advantage of the many woes that have befallen the nation in the last decade to provide them with a steady source of work. Connor has continued to update their tactics and diversify their capabilities to give them a better ability to respond to their situation and opponents.
While he does not intend to step down from command any time soon, Connor’s two children, Claudia and Cameron, are both training as MechWarriors and officers to potentially take his place in future.
OTL-8M Ostsol (Modified) Crusher
Mass: 60 tons
Chassis: Kell/H Endo Steel
Powerplant: Hermes 360 XL
Cruising Speed: 64 kph (76 kph with TSM)
Maximum Speed: 96 kph (118 kph with TSM; 130 kph with Supercharger)
Jump Jets: None
Jump Capacity: None
Armour: Riese-475
Armament:
2 Lord’s Light 5 Snub-Nose PPCs
2 Manga 400P Medium Pulse Lasers
1 Magna Mk VI Extended-Range Medium Laser
1 Magna Mk IV Extended-Range Small Laser
Comm System: Barret 500p
T&T System: TRSS.2L3
While he piloted several BattleMechs over the course of his training and early career, Connor Carson showed a distinct preference for two things; speed and close-combat capabilities. When he took command of the Carnivores, rather than upgrade to a heavier ’Mech, Connor chose to embrace his areas of expertise. He acquired a Jihad-era OTL-8M Ostsol, a BattleMech that was both fast for its weight and, through use of its triple-strength myomer, possessed the physical attack capabilities of an assault ’Mech.
In the field, Connor took to pushing his ’Mech as hard as he could in order to squeeze as much performance out of it as possible. He would usually put himself at the forefront of any assault, using its speed to close with enemies while keeping its triple-strength myomer active so he could deliver devastating physical attacks. While risky, this tactic worked well for him for many years.
Following his defeat on Kamenz, Connor had the BattleMech rebuilt and further modified to make it even faster. However, the evolution of his tactics and use of a more cautious approach meant that he now was less inclined to charge into the middle of the battle. However, he still prefers to lead his unit from the cockpit of his BattleMech, which he has nicknamed Crusher due to its capabilities, and will still engage in front line combat when needed.
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Guest character by KayEmm
Dimitri Mandragov
Position/Rank: Warlord
Affiliation/Unit: Independent
Birth Year: 3107
Dimitri Mandragov’s rise to power is the result of adversity and circumstance as much as anything else. Originally an officer in the LCAF, Dimitri's unit was on Esteros when the Jade Falcons launched their invasion of the Commonwealth in 3140, and was one of the first to be caught in the surge. Unprepared for the ferocity of the assault, the Lyran forces were overwhelmed and destroyed by the Clan invaders.
As much by chance as by planning, Mandragov was one of the few survivors. After ejecting from his crippled BattleMech, he managed to evade capture and go underground, eventually joining up with a group of other survivors. At first their goal was to simply lie low until either the Falcons moved on or the Lyrans came to reclaim the world, they came to realise that neither was happening. However, rather than accepting their fate, they instead chose to fight.
Drawing together survivors from his unit, along with those that had been a part of the Esteros noble forces and civilian partisans, Mandragov formed a resistance movement. With their arsenal limited mostly to small arms and industrial equipment, the group were aware that they were not going to be able to drive the Jade Falcons off-world with what they had. Instead, they were instead focused on disrupting the Clan’s mining and resource extraction operations across the continent. They also began preparations against any possible Lyran moves to reclaim the world by gathering intelligence and hoarding weapons.
While not trained for it, Mandragov proved to be an effective but ruthless guerrilla leader. Over the course of the next decade, his group struck repeatedly at Clan operations, focusing on ‘soft’ targets like transport links or workers. That those attacks usually killed more Esteros natives than Clan supervisors was acknowledged, but Mandragov successfully spun those losses as being for the greater good.
At the start of 3151, he learned that the Jade Falcons had pulled their forces entirely from the world, leaving behind only a token paramilitary force. Seizing the opportunity, he launched an attack that took control of their administrative center and armories, before executing every Falcon administrator he could find. Now operating openly, his army swelled with volunteers, and within a month they had taken control of three more cities.
In April, the Esteros Assembly contacted Mandragov, offering him an invitation to join them. Publicly, he rebuffed their offer, claiming that Esteros and its people would no longer be beholden to a band of parasitic nobles. He used this rhetoric to rally more to his cause, urging them to rise up against their former leaders who had abandoned them to the Clans a decade ago. Now armed with heavy weapons, vehicles and IndustrialMechs, his forces began conquering more and more territory. In short order, he was the leader of the single largest military force on Esteros; however, he was surrounded by rivals that, while individually less powerful, could be a threat if they acted together.
A ruthless and driven man, Dimitri Mandragov has proven to be very adaptable to his changing circumstances. While the public face of the cause may be about putting power into the hands of the common people, the truth is that he is a warlord who is driven by his own personal power. His loyal followers are seen as assets to be used and expended as needed. For now, the only real constraint on his power is his lack of mobility; he has no way to move his army across continents en masse, let alone off-world.
TI-1Aj Titan
Mass: 100 tons
Chassis: Kressly TIA-Infused
Powerplant: Vlar 300
Cruising Speed: 32 kph
Maximum Speed: 54 kph
Jump Jets: Lexington Ltd. Lifters
Jump Capacity: 90 meters
Armour: Kressly Stoneskin 50
Armament:
2 Blankenburg 200 Extended Range Particle Projector Cannons
6 Intek Medium Lasers
5 Hovertec SRM-4s
Comm System: Kressly-Lantern Allet C500
T&T System: Kressly-Lantern Allet T101
The Titan piloted by Dimitri Mandragov has had a somewhat mysterious career. The BattleMech was built by Kressly Warworks in 3133, but was neither acquired by the Republic Armed Forces or offered for sale on the mercenary market. Instead, it simply vanished, dropping out of sight for the next two decades. The BattleMech did not resurface until early 3151, when it was a part of a shipment delivered to Mandragov’s forces, and sold to them in exchange for raw materials and future concessions. Who sold it was unknown, but the warlord was clearly not about to refuse the offer of such weapons, especially when they could just as easily end up in the hands of his enemies.
Regardless of its source, the BattleMech has proven to be an effective weapon so far. Mandragov has employed it both as a command platform and as a true assault BattleMech, using it to simply brute forces his way through enemy units. As one of the few assault ’Mechs on the world, and facing enemy forces that are primarily made up of medium tanks and IndustrialMechs, it proved to be nearly unstoppable in its own right.
While he is well aware of the power of his ’Mech, Mandragov also knows that he is not indestructible by any means. He will not hesitate to pull back should things turn against him and throw his followers in the line of fire to protect himself. He often will hold back on using his jump jets, preferring to keep them to surprise an enemy, or to make a quick escape if needed.
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Guest character by KayEmm
Leon Mackinaw
Position/Rank: Lieutenant
Affiliation/Unit: Mercenary/Farris Iron Knights
Birth Year: 3117
Born in the Lyran Commonwealth, Leon Mackinaw’s career and life took a number of unexpected twists, the result of circumstances beyond his control. Rather than accept it, Leon has instead chosen to make the most of his situation and succeed on his own merits despite all that has been thrown in his way.
Originally coming from a poor, rural family, Leon enlisted in the LCAF as a way to improve both his own prospects and those of his family. During his training he showed an aptitude for BattleMech operations, coming from a combination of his own natural reflexes as well as a history of operating AgroMechs. Moved into a BattleMech program, he showed further skill through both his tactical skills and ability to think on the fly and adapt to changing circumstances.
After graduation, Leon was rewarded with a place in a Lyran line regiment. Originally a mere MechWarrior, his skills saw him quickly promoted to lieutenant. However, it also became clear to him that he would not be able to progress too much further. His poor rural background and lack of social standing meant that he was looked down on by his superiors and poorly regarded by them. And while he demonstrated considerable initiative, he would often be hobbled by orders from those same officers who disliked being shown up.
This conflict came to a head during the Jade Falcon invasion of the Lyran Commonwealth. Leon’s unit was caught in the line of the invasion, and found themselves outmatched by a superior Clan force. Surrounded, Leon attempted to extract his unit, only to be ordered to remain in place by his superior. Not wanting to see his men killed for no reason, Leon chose to disobey orders and led a breakout. Ultimately his efforts were successful, saving the lives of his unit, but not without a price. Leon was badly injured during the battle, with his right arm being amputated and replaced with a prosthetic.
Despite his success, he was subsequently court-martialed for disobeying orders, a move that was as much about enforcing discipline as it was soothing the ego of his noble commander. Found guilty, Leon was dishonorably discharged from the LCAF.
His career over and reputation ruined, dispirited and disenfranchised, Leon drifted for the next few years. Eventually he wound up on Gillfillan’s Gold, the capital of the Rim Collection. Seeking employment, he signed on with Farris Iron Knights, a mercenary unit that was looking for new blood to fill out their ranks. Despite his checkered past and lack of BattleMech, the Iron Knights readily accepted his application.
Given a second chance, Leon was eager to prove his worth. His experience earned him the command of a recon lance on a provisional basis, but Leon quickly demonstrated his capabilities to his employers. His quick thinking proved to be exceptionally useful against the often disorganized forces that the Iron Knights faced in the Periphery; not only in a scout role, but often engaged in flanking and strike actions to harry or distract enemies.
With the Iron Knights’ relocation to the Inner Sphere, Leon has been given another role within the unit. As its leaders came from isolated worlds in the Periphery, they lacked experience with the more developed and complicated societies of the Great Houses. Given his own background and life, Leon has served as an advisor of sorts, helping their leadership to better understand the people and situations that they are working with.
PXH-1c Phoenix Hawk
Mass: 45 tons
Chassis: Earthworks PXH II Endo Steel
Powerplant: Hermes 270 XL
Cruising Speed: 64 kph
Maximum Speed: 96 kph
Jump Jets: Rawlings 45
Jump Capacity: 180 meters
Armour: Durallex Light
Armament:
1 Fusigon Smarttooth Snub-Nosed PPC
1 Diverse Optics Sunbeam Extended Range Large Laser
2 Harmon Medium Lasers
2 Sperry-Browning Machine Guns
Comm System: Tek Battlecom
T&T System: Tek Tru-Track
Originally developed for the Star League, the PXH-1c “Special” quickly fell to extinction during the succession wars. Revived during the Word of Blake Jihad, the design would see use by a number of different forces on both sides of the conflict. The Phoenix Hawk currently piloted by Leon Mackinaw was originally provided to the Iron Knights during the Jihad by their employers. The ’Mech served with the unit during that conflict, and was among those that disappeared along with the rest of the unit.
It resurfaced along with the rest of the unit in 3145, having apparently survived whatever had happened to the Iron Knights over the last six decades. At that point, it was piloted by Lukas Wotzel, a senior officer in the unit. After their death in action, the ’Mech was left vacant for a short period before being reassigned to Leon Mackinaw.
While not a design that he had used before, Leon quickly adapted to the new BattleMech. In the field, he took advantage of its mobility to outflank and harass enemy forces, as much to distract them or to heard them towards the Iron Knights’ forces. Likewise, its ECM unit has proven to be invaluable in disrupting the often fragile chains of command found within periphery forces.
Perhaps because he knows the ’Mech is a hand-me-down and has had a number of different users, Leon has chosen not to name it.
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Luis Caesar
Position/Rank: Major
Affiliation/Unit: Mercenary/Caesar’s Cannons
Birth Year: 3105
Aristocratic and with an air of refined sophistication, Luis Caesar gives the impression that he would be more at home at an embassy ball or other social soiree than on the battlefield. Nonetheless, he is both a capable MechWarrior and commander.
The Caesar family were once Lyran nobles, before they lost their lands and holdings to the ravages of the Jihad. Displaced (and having fallen out of political favour) the survivors of the family refused to lose their grasp on power and the position that they had become accustomed to. Instead, they used their remaining wealth and leverage to essentially take control of a mercenary command, ensuring that they would have their own powerbase and supporters, no matter what.
Fortunately for them, the family had a past history of military service and experience to fall back on that helped them to adapt to their new lifestyle. Despite their seeming fish-out-of-water background and the downturn of the mercenary trade in the aftermath of the Jihad, they proved to be remarkably successful in their new role. Under their command, the renamed Caesar’s Cannons managed to grow and function in an era when many other mercenary units withered and died.
Luis was born in 3105, one of the new generations of the family who had never known their previous rank and position. Nonetheless, he was raised with many of the trappings of their previous wealth and power, including whatever luxuries that their situation could afford. He was educated at a prestigious private school, and trained at a formal military academy. In both cases, Luis learned to use his supposed wealth and societal standing to his advantage by building networks of allies and supporters that he could call on to support him as needed.
In the field he proved to be capable in his own right, showing ample talent as a MechWarrior and a junior officer. His lance consistently performed well due to his own leadership and ability to read a situation and respond to it appropriately. However, it was off the battlefield that he would truly shine, as Luis demonstrated a gift for social engagement and protocol that did much to win the confidence of employers and allies alike. Besides supporting the unit as a whole, these efforts were also focused on improving his own standing within its ranks.
In 3139, Luis’ father, Emilio Caesar, was badly injured in battle. Citing both his age and injuries, he chose to step down from the position of commander of the unit. The combination of Luis’ battlefield experience, as well as his own social skills, saw him named as his father’s replacement as commander. The only other contender for the position was his uncle, Rodrigo; however, a scandal saw him sidelined and fall from favour. While some whispered that Luis had engineered his downfall, these rumours would quickly disperse once he was firmly positioned at the head of the unit.
For the last decade, Luis Caesar has proved to be an effective leader in his own right, and has ensured the unit’s ongoing successes in the face of a variety of opponents. Much of this has come from his skills as a negotiator that ensures he gets the best from a contract, as well as his willingness to engage with a client. When on defensive contracts, Luis takes advantage of the situation to integrate himself with the local society scene in order to create a better image of the unit.
While he has seen considerable success, Luis is secretly dissatisfied with his current social standing. He knows full well that his unit could suffer unexpected or catastrophic losses at any time, and that such could wipe out his powerbase in a moment. His true goal is to reestablish himself as a noble in his own right, where he would have far more control over his fate and wield the power and prestige that his family lost so long ago.
FLC-9R Falconer Cazador
Mass: 75 tons
Chassis: McLarren-75B Endo Steel
Powerplant: GM 375 XL
Cruising Speed: 54 kph
Maximum Speed: 86 kph
Jump Jets: Devil A7
Jump Capacity: 150 meters
Armour: Valiant Chainmail
Armament:
1 Magna Hellfire Heavy Particle Projector Cannon
1 Mydron Excel LB-10X Autocannon
4 Defiance B3M Medium Lasers
Comm System: TharHes Calliope ZE-2
T&T System: TharHes Ares-7i
Originally developed to fight the Clan invasion, the Falconer proved to be a powerful BattleMech in its own right. Very mobile for its weight, the ’Mech emphasized long-range firepower as a way of evening the odds against the invaders. The later 9R model reduced that reach to a degree, but traded it for greater versatility.
The Falconer used by Luis Caesar was built before the Jihad, and passed through various hands before ending up in the family’s ownership. It has, in turn, been used by members of the family in their role as mercenaries, with Luis having had considerable experience at its controls. While many expected him to trade up to something heavier once he took control of the unit, the truth was that Luis was somewhat fond of the BattleMech due to its combination of mobility and firepower.
In the field, Luis uses its reach to his advantage, allowing him to lead his unit while not putting himself in the front lines of a battle. Over the years he has honed his marksmanship to allow him to provide highly accurate long-range fire, even while moving or in the middle of a raging battle. He ensures that the ’Mech, which he has nicknamed Cazador, is well looked after, both because of its battlefield use and so he can use it to impress his allies and employers.
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Guest character by KayEmm
Lewis Guise
Position/Rank: Captain
Affiliation/Unit: Mercenary/Screaming Demons
Birth Year: 3115
A mercenary officer, Lewis Guise has risen mostly through chance and opportunism than any talent of his own. Quick to adapt, he has a knack of figuring out the best way out of a situation for himself, if not those around him.
Born to a poor community on an Outback world in the Federated Suns, Lewis Guise had a lot stacked against him to start with. His poor performance in school did not help matters, but instead saw him develop a lifelong habit of deflecting blame and not taking responsibility for his own failings. To his eyes, his poor academic results were because his teachers were biased against him for whatever reasons, and not his fault at all.
Seeing few other opportunities while also yearning for something bigger, Guise chose to enlist in the AFFS. With the Blackout and the nations’ rush to rearm, he saw an opportunity, and was rewarded for his gamble. During training, Guise demonstrated an aptitude for BattleMech combat and was trained accordingly, a development that served to bolster him and give him an outsized feeling of self-importance. Guise became caught up in his own ego, becoming convinced that he was destined to be a legendary MechWarrior and hero of the Suns.
Expecting a slot in a prestigious frontline command, he found his posting to the Hortense Periphery March Militia to be a disappointment. Piloting an elderly Dervish in a unit that rarely saw any sort of meaningful action and was as far as possible from the front lines of a potential conflict was far from the career that he had dreamed of. In the field, Guise proved to be only a mediocre MechWarrior. Furthermore, he tended to question every order he was given, or offer completely unwanted ‘suggestions’ or ‘alternatives’ that favored him.
He made multiple requests to transfer to another unit, only to have them all rebuffed. Likewise, his applications to officer training school were also rejected. In each case, he felt that this was the result of others being biased against him due to his background, lack of social standing or any other factor that he could think of, rather than any shortcoming of his own. Finally, in 3142, he resigned his commission, frustrated at a military that he felt was squandering his obvious talents.
Using his savings from his military career, Guise traveled to Galatea, figuring that there would be somebody in the burgeoning mercenary market that would better appreciate his talents. By chance, he fell in with Milo Russel’s newly-formed Screaming Demons. The former Republic officer was far from discriminating with those that he hired, and immediately respected Guise for having actual military experience. Furthermore, Russel proved to be somewhat sympathetic towards Guise’s claims, due to his own less than stellar career (of course, that Russel’s career had ended in dishonorable discharge was quietly omitted).
While only a passable officer, Guise did his best to ingratiate himself to Russel and support him as a way of winning his favor. Rather than questioning everything laid before him as he had done in past, he took to wholeheartedly supporting his commander while in turn expecting unquestioning obedience from those he leads. At the same time, he has taken careful steps to ensure that his immediate subordinates are loyal to him first. Now the effective second in command of the Screaming Demons, he still dreams of something bigger, and awaits the day when he will command the unit himself.
ARC-8M Archer Rebel
Mass: 70 tons
Chassis: Earthworks Archer II Endo Steel
Powerplant: 280 VOX
Cruising Speed: 43 kph
Maximum Speed: 64 kph
Jump Jets: None
Jump Capacity: None
Armour: Maximillian 100
Armament:
2 Delta Dart LRM 15 Racks
1 Diverse Optics Sunbeam Extended Range Large Laser
3 Diverse Optics Sunfire Extended Range Medium Lasers
Comm System: Neil 6000
T&T System: RCA Instatrac Mk XII
One of the most common heavy ’Mechs, the Archer has been a part of the battlefield for centuries. Found across the Inner Sphere and beyond in a wide variety of variants, the ’Mech has a long-standing reputation for reliability and service.
The Archer piloted by Lewis Guise has had something of an involved career. Originally built for the Word of Blake, it served with them during the Jihad before falling during the liberation of Terra. Salvaged by one of the mercenary units involved in that climatic conflict, it was pressed back into service in order to make up losses. Over the next half-century, it passed between various other owners before finally being purchased by the Screaming Demons.
Lewis Guise makes the most of its capabilities as a support BattleMech, usually hanging back behind the other Screaming Demons while pummeling his targets with long-range missile fire. He rarely gets close to his enemies, a move born as much from recognition of the limitations of his ‘Mech as well as a reluctance to put himself directly in the line of fire. This means that he is often found alongside Major Russel’s Zeus, a move that helps project his image as the loyal second.
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Guest character by Zogster
Cecilia Mars
Position/Rank: Chief Medical Officer
Affiliation/Unit: Mercenary/Star of Sumer
Birth Year: 3115
Cecilia Mars was born on Addicks to a commoner family during the height of the Republic. She aimed to achieve her citizenship through public service, a drive that saw her focus on medical training. Despite the Blackout, she still attended medical school and continued her service, working against the idea that order would eventually be restored. Instead, she found herself engaged in relief efforts, aiding those that had been caught up in the fighting. Unfortunately, her home would end up among the losses suffered during the fighting.
When the Star of Sumer came to Addicks seeking refuge and to rebuild themselves, Cecilia was among those who offered the mercenaries aid. After they absorbed members of the Addicks Planetary Guard, Ceclia chose to join them. Her move was one born of realism, due to both the diminishing chances of completing her education and admission of the Republic’s collapse. She joined the unit as a junior medic, eventually completing her training elsewhere. Her service to the unit was recognised in 3147 when she was promoted to chief medical officer.
Cecilia has a reputation for being a no-nonsense, hard-nosed doctor who fully expects that her medical orders will be followed without any compromise. Among many of the Star’s combat personnel, the joke has become that she can simply bully somebody back to health. In addition to her role as the unit’s chief medic, she also serves as the personal doctor to it’s commander, Lana Kotovski, and has dealt with the numerous injuries she has suffered on the battlefield.
Despite some of the mythology that has built up around the Star of Sumer over the years, Cecelia sees herself as being a rationalist. She feels that the supposed ‘curse’ on the Gilgamesh, the commander’s BattleMaster, is nothing more than superstition, and that perpetuating the story actively harms morale.
Guest character by Zogster
Isaías Molina
Position/Rank: nu Banda
Affiliation/Unit: Mercenary/Star of Sumer
Birth Year: 3100
Members of the Molina family have been in the Star of Sumer for generations. Isaías is no exception, born into the unit, and raised in its traditions. Not being from one of the three hereditary families that run the unit, he wasn’t laboured with expectations and was free to chose his own direction. Aspiring to a combat position, he trained as a tank commander. Despite the relative peace of the Republic era, he saw action from an early age in the various small conflicts of the era.
Isaías quickly proved himself under fire, demonstrating considerable skills both behind the wheel and as a tank commander. He worked his way up the ranks through hard work and determination, becoming a lieutenant before the Blackout. Respected by his men and his superiors, he had become a solid anchor within the unit. However, despite his skill, he found that his career in the Star effectively had stalled, due both to his not being from one of the families as well as his not being a MechWarrior. Nonetheless, he served alongside both Gerhadt Day and Calvin Morrison as an advisor and aide, and was well respected by both.
His position meant that he was shaken badly by the losses suffered by the Star in the 3130s. The unit’s bringing in members of the Addicks Planetary Guard served as another big change for him, leading to an influx of new recruits from outside the Star’s traditional families. The restructuring of the unit in 3147 created a paradoxical situation for him; he received an actual promotion, but the appointment of a new commander led to a reduction of his overall influence within the unit. His present role makes him the superior to the unit’s theoretical heir, a situation that does not sit entirely well with him.
Despite all this, Isaías remains a capable tank commander and leader, but also in a situation where he is adapting poorly to change. He is an expert in the use of combined arms warfare, especially with the integration of tanks and battle armour. He has commanded assault tanks for most of his career, and in many ways remains at his most comfortable in the command seat of his Challenger X MBT.
Guest character by KayEmm
Zara Grimheald
Position/Rank: Star Commander
Affiliation/Unit: Clan Hell's Horses/Alpha Galaxy
Birth Year: 3123
While decanted before the Blackout, Zara Grimheald was raised in the period of chaos and uncertainty that followed after it. A part of a promising ProtoMech sibko, she proved to be a very aggressive and driven cadet; one who in equal parts impressed her Wranglers with her skill, but also frustrated them with her propensity to run off or act on her own. Fortunately, the shared bond she developed with her sibkin through their ProtoMechs and EI implants served to curb her overly rebellious and aggressive tendencies through the emotional support of her peers.
Nonetheless, she initially favored the Clan’s alliance with the Jade Falcons, seeing it as a chance for her to win glory in battle and recognition from her peers. While still only fresh from the sibko, she performed well in the field, with her combination of aggression and willingness to work with her Starmates delivering considerable success against her adversaries. Her Point became very adept at using pack tactics to harry, isolate and surround opponents, a trait that was only underscored by the bestial nature of their Procyon ProtoMechs.
However, as the alliance began to sour, Zara became more and more aware of the full extent of the Falcon Mongol doctrine and all that came with it. This helped to curb her aggression, while politically swinging her away from the more extreme elements within her own Clan. Due to both her skills on the battlefield and a recognition of her stance, she was nominated for the Grimheald Bloodname when an opening became available. Zara handily defeated all her opponents through both augmented and unaugmented combat, showing that she could work alone as well as she could in a group.
While no longer the aggressive firebrand she was in her youth, Zara still yearns for glory and action in combat. Her present assignment to Alpha Galaxy has become something of a double-edged sword; while now a part of her Clan’s most prestigious formation, their current assignment to guard the core of the OZ means they see little opportunity for action.
-
Guest character by KayEmm
Anton Yamashita
Position/Rank: Scout
Affiliation/Unit: Mercenary/Farris Iron Knights
Birth Year: 3120 (estimated)
Like many of the Iron Knights, the background of Anton Yamashita is a mystery. Appearing along with the rest of the unit, he nonetheless seemed to be detached from it. Most of his interactions with the rest of the unit go through Iulia Dragan, suggesting that the pair of them have some common background. However, even then there is little connection between the two to the point that they do not seem to share the same culture or language beyond the common use of Star League English; while she speaks Romanian, his language is peppered with fragments of pre-Combine Japanese. Judging from his equipment and interactions, whatever background he comes from is technologically regressed.
Anton serves the unit as a field scout. Wherever possible, he acts on his own to get the lay of the land where the Iron Knights will be operating, and to get a closer look at their enemies. Rugged and a skilled survivalist, he is seemingly at home regardless of the terrain or conditions, and is an expert at living off the land. The only weapons he uses are simple ones, with nothing more advanced then a bolt-action hunting rifle in his inventory.
Regardless of his background, Anton’s actions have been successful for the Iron Knights and a key part of many of their operations. Even though she seems to have little contact with him. Kaitlyn Farris also seems to trust him completely to support her operations and gather vital intelligence. So far, he has proven that trust to be well founded.
Guest character by KayEmm
Leonhard Kayserling
Position/Rank: Graf
Affiliation/Unit: Esteros Planetary Assembly
Birth Year: 3081
The Kayserling family have been the noble rulers of Esteros since the time of the Star League, a fact that Leonhard Kayserling is very well aware of. The current head of the family, and thus the world, he has made it his duty to ensure the continuity of his world and its people, even if that has forced him to make a number of difficult decisions over the years.
When the Jade Falcons conquered Esteros in 3140, Leonhard was forced to accept their terms. Under their rule, the Esteros planetary assembly was allowed to continue to exist, but it’s reach and authority was effectively limited to a single continent. The Falcons in turn were given free reign to use the planet as they saw fit. While he did not like the situation, Leonhard also understood the truth of the situation. His personal forces lacked the numbers and capability to drive the Falcons off-world, and any attempt to move in force against them would simply bring the Clan’s wrath down on the people. While many publicly decried his inaction, as stories of Falcon atrocities on other worlds spread, those opinions began to soften.
Ideally, Leonhard would like to see his world freed from Clan occupation, but he also knows that such is unlikely to happen for the foreseeable future without outside aid. In recent years, he has faced increasing opposition from Baroness Giana Sigonella, the second most powerful remaining noble on Esteros, who has publicly accused him of weakness and inaction.
Leonhard has three children. His oldest two, including his designated heir, are off-world and he has had little contact with them in the last decade. His youngest son, Johan, is a MechWarrior who leads the sole BattleMech lance in his personal forces.
Guest character by KayEmm
Giana Sigonella
Position/Rank: Baroness
Affiliation/Unit: Esteros Planetary Assembly
Birth Year: 3075
One of the more prominent noble families of Esteros, the Sigonellas have held positions of power within the planet’s society and leadership for generations. Giana Sigonella, the current leader of the family, has leveraged that history and power to make a play for leadership of the world.
Giana was born with the expectation that she would one day lead the family and inherit their titles. While she had this power handed to her, she also was willing to work to prove her credentials. She enlisted in the LCAF as a MechWarrior during the early 32nd century, with her social standing ensuring an officer rank. However, she never once saw active service before resigning and returning to her homeworld.
Unfortunately, her husband was on a business trip to Esteros’ Alwaid continent during the Jade Falcon invasion, and was either captured or killed. This loss energized her, making her a lighting rod for those that were opposed to Graf Kayserling’s leadership of Esteros. During the years of the Falcon occupation she built a network of allies that supported her stance, while publicly criticizing him for his inaction and seeming capitulation to the Clan invaders. She made the fact that the majority of the world’s population were living under Clan rule and the decimation of the Esteros assembly a constant talking point, ensuring that the issue would remain in the public eye for the next decade.
A canny planner with an eye for the long term, Giana is rumored to have made contacts within the Jade Falcon merchant caste or the Free Guilds during the occupation. She has ensured that her children are also ready to take her place and continue her cause if needs be; while the oldest is off-world (and she has not had any contact with them during the occupation) her younger two children have become key agents for her cause.
-
Guest character by Zogster
Demos
Position/Rank: Mercenary Liaison
Affiliation/Unit: Malthus Confederation
Birth Year: 3121
Born into poverty in the Lyran Commonwealth, Demos Andretzis was dealt a bad hand from the very start. At a young age he fell into a life of petty crime to support himself. Starting with pickpocketing and other basic crimes, he worked his way up the ladder as he showed a talent for various criminal activities. This flair bought him to the attention of a local organised crime syndicate; Demos managed to wheedle his way into their ranks with his quick thinking and fast talking. As a member of the syndicate, he showed a lot of promise, and was considered an up-and-comer within their ranks.
The Jade Falcon invasion bought a halt to those plans. Originally conscripted into the merchant caste, Demos was picked out by members of the Free Guilds with ties to the old Malthus Syndicate as having promise. He was quickly shuffled sideways into their ranks, where he found that he was essentially doing the same work as he was before, just under new management. Over the next decade, he used his broad know-how and savvy to work his way into a position of authority within the unofficial syndicate, with his own goals being to accumulate what wealth and power he could.
The functional abandonment of the Jade Falcon Occupation Zone by the Clan presented an even greater opportunity or Demos to realize those dreams. He effectively stepped into the newly-formed Malthus Confederation as if he had always been there. Seeing a world of opportunities and the Confederation’s need to seize them if needs be, Demos turned his skills towards serving as a negotiator with external parties; be they traders, planetary authorities or, eventually, mercenaries. The latter has proven to be a useful asset as the Confederation has looked to protect its assets and expand its unofficial reach.
Fully aware that he is as criminal, Demos is proud of who he is and what he does for a living. He remains loyal to the Confederation, seeing it as a way for him to advance himself and get what he wants without having to stick his neck out. And while he has been quietly accumulating wealth and influence on his own, he has so far done his best to hide it and keep things low-key.
Guest character by KayEmm
Johan van der Kreil
Position/Rank: Captain
Affiliation/Unit: Mercenary/Independent
Birth Year: 3112
Born on the Lyran world of New Capetown, Johan van der Kriel was raised in a culture that held an extreme hatred of all things Clan. As soon as he was able to, he enlisted in the New Capetown Militia, eager to protect his homeworld should the Clan invaders ever come. While initially driven by sheer enthusiasm, he proved to be a capable commander, but also a demanding one who held high expectations of the men he led.
Unfortunately, when the Jade Falcon invasion of the world came, the combination of drive and hatred that fueled the militia and its soldiers proved to be insufficient to hold back the attackers. The militia were shattered, with Johan being one of the few survivors who were evacuated off world. As news spread of the invasion, it became clear that the Lyran Commonwealth was incapable of reclaiming his homeworld, let along holding back the ongoing Falcon surge.
Rather than accepting the situation, Johan turned to mercenary work. While he was seeking a way to liberate his homeworld, he would gladly take any job that gave him an opportunity to fight Clan opponents. As a mercenary, his already harsh and demanding nature was turned to one of utter ruthlessness, where he was willing to take whatever means necessary to ensure victory. Furthermore, he expected the same of the men he commanded, and would openly deride any signs of ‘weakness’ in his subordinates. His actions bought him success, but also saw him clash with both commanders and employers on numerous occasions.
Johan is a very hands-on commander, usually leading his men from the front in his Patton tank. Fully aware of his aggressive style of command, he expects to be respected, but not liked. While a career tanker who holds no small contempt for MechWarriors, he is well aware of the limitations and weaknesses of his vehicle, and is adapt at working with them.
Jarvis Northington
Position/Rank: Captain
Affiliation/Unit: Mercenary/Caesar’s Cannons
Birth Year: 3107
Much of the strong reputation of Caesar’s Cannons is based on its dedicated artillery company. Originally, the core of the previous iteration of the unit, they were retained following the unit’s effective takeover by the Caesar family. While the new leadership did build up the unit’s BattleMech assets, they also were careful to ensure that its other successful elements were maintained and would continue to work for them.
The key to that success lay in the leadership of the company. Jarvis Northington is the latest in a line of skilled artillery officers that have worked for the unit, and has spent much of his career in their employ. Precise, measured, and disciplined, he makes it his job to have a complete understanding of every weapon system in his employ and their full capabilities. On the battlefield, he uses this knowledge to provide precise, accurate and timely support fire exactly where it is needed.
Off the battlefield, Jarvis supports the unit in other ways. His position gives him considerable influence over the unit’s logistics, giving him a lot of weight in purchasing and supply decisions. He also serves as a training officer, aiding in the integration of new recruits and helping to bring them up to his own high standards. Finally, he often can be found alongside Major Luis Caesar in his interactions with employers, a symbol of the professionalism and skill of his unit.
Very much a stereotypical ‘spit and polish’ style of officer, Jarvis expects a lot from his men to the point that some consider him to be obsessive. And while he can be demanding, he also respects the value of individual initiative and is willing to listen to suggestions; however, he is also not afraid to put an individual in their place if needs be.
-
Guest chapter by Zogster
Show Pony
It was the perfect location. A wide, flat plain, stretching out for miles nestled in between gentle hills. The plain was carpeted with short green grass, and the occasional isolated tree kept it from feeling lonely. A few clouds and a light breeze gave a refreshing feel to the otherwise warm afternoon. All in all, Coulter Murphy had decided it was the perfect place to stop his Star’s caravan for a game of soccer.
He dashed down the impromptu field, loosely defined by their support vehicles. Technicians and laborers sat on the vehicles’ roofs, drinking and cheering for the mix of warriors and lower castes that tangled up on the field. Even as he ran, keeping the ball close by his feet, he found the burly form of Hamset, a hard worker and good friend, blocking his path. The man towered over him, bearing down to capture the ball, by force if needed. Coulter’s games tended to be a bit rougher than usual.
Coulter broke to the left. Seeing his move, Hamset lunged to intercept – as anticipated. With a complicated flick of his ankles, Coulter sent the ball soaring off to his right, away from his mountainous obstacle. It tracked over to the middle of the scrum, where clothed and bare-chested figures intermingled. One shot out of the pack, leaping above the others with the grace of a jumping dolphin. Coulter grinned as Yener, his favourite technician, intercepted the ball with his forehead and sent it streaking for the goal. It shot between the legs of Coulter’s Hel, straight past the goalkeeper.
Coulter let out a guttural roar. The field was in chaos. He dashed over to the pack and seized Yener, tucking the man’s head under his arm and vigorously rubbing his short, bristly hair. The pair cheered, accompanied by both sides of the match. It had been a good game.
Their sounds of victory were drowned out by a low thudding sound, ringing across the plains. There was only one thing it could be – BattleMech footsteps. The crowd on the field broke up, with many wandering back to their vehicles. Coulter strolled down the field, eyeing the approaching 'Mechs.
They were a Star of heavy frames, all decked out in the colours of Fire Horse Galaxy, as were his own. Their leader caught his eye, and he grinned from ear to ear. It was a Doom Courser, a relatively new and well-regarded quad OmniMech. The design was considered totemic for the Hell’s Horses and brought its pilots great prestige.
He had to have it.
The incoming 'Mechs came to a halt just beyond the loose array of Coulter’s units. Within moments, the pilots had disembarked. The Doom Courser pilot, naturally their leader, approached Coulter with a hand raised.
“Star Captain Lance Hawker,” he simply said.
“Star Captain Coulter Murphy,” came the equally straightforward reply. He seized Lance’s hand and pulled him in, wrapping his arm around the other man’s back. Lance replied in kind, and the pair held each other in a firm embrace for a moment.
They pulled back, and Coulter took a moment to look over his opposite number. They were a study in contrasts. Couter was stripped to his waist, the top half of his pilot suit tied off and hanging behind him. His bare chest showed his wiry frame, highlighted with prominent scars. A scratchy red beard and short mohawk topped off his look.
Lance meanwhile towered over him, the very model of a Clan officer. His pilot suit was neat and clean, despite what was no doubt a long hike, and he filled it out well. His dark hair was cut very short, and his face was perfectly clean shaven. He was fresh. Crisp. Spit and polished.
Lance broke the silence. “My Star and I are on manual redeployment. We will use your camp for the night.”
“It is a good 'Mech,” Coulter said, completely ignoring the man and looking past him to the towering Doom Courser.
Lance turned to follow his gaze. Likewise admiring the quad, he said with pride “Yes it is.”
Coulter nodded. “I will take good care of it.”
Lance turned back to him, one eyebrow cocked in confusion. “You are not a technician, quineg?”
“Neg,” Coulter said with a chuckle. “When I ride it into battle. I will bring it much glory.”
Lance couldn’t help but reply with his own chuckle. The other members of his Star were approaching, as well as a gaggle of lookers-on from Coulter’s company. Lance glanced around to take in their audience, then turned back to Coulter. “You seem to misunderstand. The Doom Courser is mine. The prestige is mine.” He emphasised his words by pointing to his own chest.
“Then I will take it from you,” Coulter stated, less a challenge than a matter of fact.
“I think not,” Lance reply, his prideful smile fading.
“I challenge you for possession of this OmniMech.” Coulter rattled off. A hush fell over the crowd, as they waited with baited breath for Lance’s response.
The Star Captain glanced around him, taking in the eager looks on Coulter’s crew and his own MechWarriors’ apprehension. Finally, he turned back to his opposite number and simply said “No.”
With blinding speed, Coulter struck out, smashing his forehead into the larger man’s nose. Lance staggered back, clutching his face even as blood streamed out from between his fingers. Coulter lunged forwards once more, bellowing out “Fight me!” mere centimeters from the man’s face.
One of his Star surged forwards, but Lance waved her back with his free hand. Instead, not taking his eyes of Coulter, he declared, “Draw the circle.”
Cheers went up throughout the crowd. Coulter backed off, bouncing on his heels as he raised his hands, ready to fight. Lance wiped his bloodied face with his sleeve, succeeding only in leaving a red smear across his jaw. The two squared off as a technician scratched a furrow in the grass around him. Lance nodded to his Starmate, who stood aside, equidistant from the competitors.
Long moments passed. The crowd work themselves up to a fever pitch, pushing at the edges of the nearly complete circled. Lance’s Starmate glanced between the pair, neither of which took their eyes off the other. After what seemed like ages the circle was complete and the technician backed into the crowd. Feeling the malice emanating off the two men, the adjudicator simply raised her hand and called out “Begin!”
Lance immediately sprang into action, lashing out with lightning-fast punches. Coulter weaved backwards and to the side, barely avoiding his blows. He ducked a wider hook and surged in, dealing a couple of rapid blows to Lance’s chest. The larger man was barely phased, instead bringing a hard elbow down on Coulter’s back. A stiff knee to his chest sent Coulter staggering out of the clinch, and Lance followed up with a straight blow to his jaw.
Coulter cackled as his head snapped back. He came back with blinding speed, hooking his fist into Lance’s face. The other man was sent staggering back, and barely managed to bring his hands up to ward off Coulter’s follow-up blows. Lance shoved forward, breaking the attack and opening up his guard, ready to strike. Coulter evaded a strike and shot forwards, wrapping his lean arms around the man’s thick neck. Seeming unfazed, Lance wrapped his own arms around Coulter’s body and used his superior size and strength to haul him into the air and dump him bodily on the ground. He followed up with a swift kick to the smaller man’s ribs. Coulter quickly rolled out of the way of a follow-up, and sprang to his feet.
Lance let out a sudden shout and charged forwards, barrelling his impressive shoulders at Coulter. The smaller man stepped back, before quickly realising just where he was. The edge of the circle was centimeters from his foot; Lance’s charge could easily knock him out of the ring, immediately ending this match. At the same time, he figured he could use the man’s momentum against him, casting Lance out of the ring and securing a quick and easy victory.
Coulter didn’t do easy. He wanted this win to mean something, to leave no doubt in anyone’s mind that he deserved the victory, that he deserved the prestige, that he deserved to pilot the Doom Courser. No, if he was to win this fight, he would have to do it the hard way. Instead he leapt, crashing himself bodily into Lance and blunting the man’s charge. The two warriors went sprawling across the grass, back towards the middle of the circle.
Lance was the first to recover, rolling over and mounting Coulter’s prone form, pinning him to the ground. Coulter barely had time to bring his hands up over his face to ward off a series of withering blows. Changing tack, Lance used his superior strength to simply seize Coulter’s arms and wrench his guard open. To his surprise, Coulter lunged upwards and chomped down on his ruined nose. Lance let out a blood-curdling cry as he pulled back, stumbling off Coulter’s body while clutching his face.
The pair watched each other warily as they got to their feet. Lance flinched when he saw the look in Coulter’s eyes, a burning intensity with seemingly nothing behind it but malice and bloodlust. The crowd was whipped into a frenzy, with cheers and catcalls surrounding them. He eyed his Starmate, keeping a safe distance from the fighters, but she only shook her head. This fight would end on their terms, not hers.
Lance turned back to Coulter, and the manic gleam in his eyes. “You madman!” he called out, only to be met with a bellowing laugh. Taken aback, Lance left himself momentarily open. Coulter seized the opportunity and sprung into action, leaping forward with an overhead punch that caught him across the face. Lance staggered back, catching more rapid blows across his chest. He swung back clumsily, but Coulter caught his fist. The wiry man leapt up, wrapping his legs around Lance’s trunk-like arm and hauling down.
Momentarily overbalanced, Lance caught himself and pulled upwards once more. They made for a strange tableau, Lance once more bodily hauling Coulter into the air who strained to wrench his sturdy arm. Lance wound back and pitched forwards, trying to hurl Coulter. The man stayed attached and kicked out, catching Lance with a vicious blow in the shoulder. “Get off!” Lance bellowed and changed tack, lunging downward and slamming Coulter into the ground. He hauled back and delivered a massive punch straight to the man’s face. Coulter finally surrendered his grip and kicked away, catching Lance in the shoulder once more as he tumbled back and sprung to his feet.
Lance staggered back, favouring his shoulder. Across from him, Coulter smiled a bloody smile. His teeth were stained red, and his face was bruised and battered. Before Lance could move, Coulter let out a sudden sharp shout. Foamy red flecks splattered across Lance’s face, sending him recoiling in shock. Before her could react, Coulter had hurled himself forward, foot arcing overhead and connecting with his injured shoulder. Something gave beneath the blow and Lance cried out in pain, collapsing to his knees.
Coulter was on him in an instant, bearing him to the ground and mounting the man’s broad chest. He reared back, fist raised, ready to bring it down like a hammer on Lance’s face.
“I yield!” Lance called out. The pair froze in place. Looking up, Lance could still see the same murderous intent fixed in Coulter’s eyes. Battered and smeared with blood, the bearded face of his adversary looked down on him, fist still raised and ready to strike. “I yield!” he repeated, hoping against hope that this would fend off his attacker.
The blow never came. Instead, Coulter’s men rushed into the circle, hauling him off his downed foe. He blinked for a moment, seemingly unaware of what was going on before raising his hands in victory. His bellowing cheer was matched by those around him as they swarmed their commander, grabbing and holding him in celebration. The crowd quickly departed, leaving Lance laying on his back to be tended by his warriors.
Coulter couldn’t help but smile his bloody smile. He lead his people to where his new OmniMech stood. The Doom Courser towered over them. It had been a good day and a great fight, but most importantly, it was his. He turned back to his people and let out a roar of celebration. They would be toasting this victory, together, long into the night.
-
Army Building
Ryback,
For the last five days I’ve been tracking a group of recruiters here on Galatea. They caught my attention because of who they claimed to represent. Specifically, they claimed to be acting on behalf of “Governor” Sarah Regis, the leader of the newly-independent Arcturus. To say that they have been aggressive in their approach would be an understatement. They’ve already scooped up a number of units -- including the Twenty-first Centauri Lancers, who were about to sign on with the Combine.
I managed to eavesdrop on one of these recruitments, and thought you might be interested in what they covered. Please forgive any holes in the recording, as they were doing their best not to be heard. Based on this, it’s clear that Regis has expansionist aims, and has set her signs on the former Falcon OZ. I’d also imagine that she’s getting ready in case Tharkad decides to reclaim its lost worlds.
- Blackrock
Begin Audio Log
William Schmitt: Thank you for taking the time to meet me, Major Carson. I trust you received the details of my offer.
Connor Carson: I did, yes. I do have some questions regarding it, however.
Schmitt: Of course.
Carson: Why did you pick my unit out of those available? Our particular focus is not well-suited to garrison duties.
Schmitt: Well yes, and I agree entirely with you there. Major Carson, we chose your unit precisely because of those traits. Your expertise in fast strikes and mobile warfare is well known, and would be a useful addition to our forces.
Carson: Which tells me that you are planning offensive operations.
Schmitt: Admittedly, that would be the best way to employ your unit.
Carson: And with your little empire presently jutting into the Jade Falcon OZ, I can see where such would be aimed. Which would be a rather risky venture.
Schmitt: Of course. And as such, my employer would be willing to offer you generous terms for your employment?
Carson: What sort of terms?
Schmitt: Flexible command rights, for starters. We will give you the freedom to fight your battles as you see them, rather than micromanaging you at every step.
Carson: Is that move being made out of generosity, or because your forces are that limited?
Schmitt: [chuckles] Believe me, Major Carson, we want to get the most out of our mercenary assets.
Carson: Fine then. What about pay? How will that be handled, given that you’re acting on behalf of a microstate that didn’t even exist last year? How do I know that the money you’re offering me will be worth anything at all?
Schmitt: You’ve definitely done your homework, Major Carson.
Carson: Last time I worked for a Lyran upstart warlord it did not end well. I’ve learned to be cautious.
Schmitt: Let me first say that I respect and understand your concerns. However, given that we’re-
[static]
Schmitt: -with first refusal on what is on offer.
Carson: Those are... generous terms. Especially the offers on Clantech. And they also tell me a lot.
Schmitt: Major Carson, I would not be making this offer if I did not think we could fulfil it.
Carson: And I think it’s fair to say that you’ll be making your move soon.
Schmitt: Indeed. Thus I suggest that you make your decision soon, Major.
Carson: No pressure at all, of course. I’ll let you know within the next day.
Schmitt: I appreciate it, Major. Things are moving quickly, and nobody wants to be left behind.
-
Guest chapter by KayEmm
Allies, Enemies and Opportunities
Tirana, Alwaid
Esteros
15 June 3151
Clad in his fatigues and a locally made headscarf, Dimitri Mandragov looked down from the balcony of the Tirana city hall to the assembled crowd below. They had come from across the city and all walks of life, gathered here today to see him.
Their liberator and new leader.
“People of Tirana,” he began, his tone clear enough even before the microphones and loudspeakers picked it up. “Today, you are free.”
He paused a moment before continuing. “For the last ten years, you have toiled away under the cruel yoke of the alien aggressors who took your homes from you. For ten years, they drained your planet dry, taking what they wanted and giving only suffering in return.”
“And all this time, while you suffered, what did the Esteros Assembly do to protect you? Nothing.” He let that last point sink in. “For ten years, they were willing to stand back and let the invaders do whatever they wished, too afraid to lift a finger to help.” Which was only partially true, and he knew it.
“Your freedom has come, not from their efforts, but from the hard work, sweat and blood of the people. Those among you who were not willing to simply surrender, or to follow the cowardly orders of distant rulers. Those who were brave enough to rise up and to take the fight to their enemies.” For the moment, he was going to leave out the fact that he had been an LCAF officer who wasn’t even born on Esteros. No need to upset the narrative.
“But we will not stop here,” he continued. “We will not rest until every city and every life on Esteros has been freed. Not only from the clutches of the invaders, but also from those nobles who have, for too long, lorded over its people. No longer will you toil away for a small band of parasites who take everything and give nothing in return, who hid in luxury while you struggled under the cruel hand of the invader. Their unjust rule, which has been allowed to fester for centuries, ends now.”
“And you will make it happen.” The crowd roared in approval, caught up in his words. While all he had said was true, he’d twisted it enough to suit his needs, while omitting a few small but vital details. “We will sweep away the old order, and build a newer, better Esteros,” he called out. “One ruled by the people, one where all are equal.” Another roar of approval.
“All I ask for is your support,” he finished. “It will take time to build our strength, along with hard work and, yes, sacrifices. But if we all work together we can build a better future; not for a small band of nobles, but for everyone.”
“For all Esteros.”
The crowd cheered again as he finished. Sparing them a few quick waves, he turned and headed inside the city hall, not even looking back. He sighed with relief as soon as he felt the cooled air wash over him, wasting no time in undoing his headscarf.
His shoulder twinged again as he did. Some pains would never go away.
“Very well done,” Tansel Sayyid commented as she approached him. One of his most loyal followers, she had been with him for years during the Falcon occupation, fighting alongside him. “I think they bought it.”
“Of course they did,” Dimitri nodded. “After ten years under the Falcons they’ll take anything. Some simple rhetoric playing into that feeling of abandonment was motivation enough.”
“Speaking of which,” she continued, “I’ve made arrangements for the show trial.”
“Very good. Tirana’s previous leaders will make excellent scapegoats.” He was well aware that they had cooperated with the Jade Falcons under duress, but that did not fit the narrative he was trying to sell.
“Also, our guest is still waiting,” she finished.
That bought a scowl to his face. “Very well then,” Dimitri finally managed, “I suppose I should get this over and done with.”
The pair of them headed through the building, making their way to a richly appointed office deep within. Waiting there was a rather unassuming man; middle-aged with neatly cut hair and otherwise forgettable features, he was wearing a suit cut to current Lyran fashions, but nothing that actually identified who he was or who he was working for. While he had been lounging in a high-backed chair, he stood as soon as Dimitri and Tansel entered.
“Very well done with your speech there, General Mandragov,” he offered, his tone friendly. “You sounded almost sincere.”
“Get to the point,” Mandragov replied. “What do you want.” It was a statement, not a question.
“All business. A man after my own heart,” he said as he sat. Dimitri and Tansel joined him, the pair staring back at him. “First of all, I have to say that it is very impressive what you’ve achieved so far. You’ve taken three cities and a not inconsiderable amount of countryside, all with a hastily thrown together army of modified IndustrialMechs and infantry armed with whatever they can lay their hands on. Jacob Bannson would be proud.”
“I know all this,” he snarled.
“And while your advances are impressive, we both know that there is only so much that you can do with what you have at hand,” the man continued.
“Furthermore, we both know that you’re not alone here. There is a power vacuum on Esteros, and there are plenty of others looking to exploit it.”
That much was true. He had so far received intelligence reports confirming several other warlords were taking advantage of the situation much like he had, building their own private armies and taking whatever they could. It was only a matter of time before open conflict broke out between them.
“So what do you propose then?”
“I am willing to arm your private army,” he explained. “I can offer you real BattleMechs, tanks and more, as well as ammunition, supplies and other material that you will need to support them.”
That got his attention. He glanced at Tansel, who gave a small nod back in reply. “It would be a massive expansion of our capabilities,” she quietly commented. “We could do so much more.”
“I know,” he agreed, all the while not taking his eyes off their guest. “And I know that it will cost us.” He sat back in his chair. “And what would you want in exchange for these materials?”
“A share of the output of your captured mines,” the man replied. “Both those you control now, and any you might gain in future. In addition, I would ask for a not inconsiderable favour to be collected at a future point.”
“One that you will not specify now, but will hold against me when the time comes.”
“Correct,” he nodded.
“And if I refuse?”
“That is your choice,” the man nodded. “However, as said, there are other warlords like you, all competing for the same space. I am sure that one of them would prove to be willing to make a deal.”
“Of course,” Mandragov finished.
“Take your time,” he nodded. “This is a big decision, after all. But I would not wait too long.”
-
Guest chapter by Zogster
Counterpoint
Kanda
Dustball
Malthus Conferation
The Grand Galactic casino was a place built to impress. From the glimmering glass foyer and its towering statues to the cavernous gaming floor, everything was designed to impress on the fortunate visitor just how much wealth flowed through the establishment. The walls practically glittered with lush decorations, and even he massive floor was cluttered with gaming tables, poker machines and the like. Despite its size, one wall was still dominated by an extensive bar, promising every kind of drink that could be imagined.
The fact that it was all but deserted somewhat undermined the grandeur.
Violetta Vujic swept through the empty realm, picking her way between the tables. Many seemed to be still set up and ready, as if just waiting for hundreds of gamblers to appear at any moment. Maeve and Jackson followed in her wake, the former scowling at the opulence on display while the latter kept his gaze fixed on their destination.
They arrived at the grand bar where they found a man waiting for them. A portly fellow with a shaved head and thick dark beard, he seemed the very image of a professional in his simple suit. As they approached, he finished shaking a flask in his hands, then poured the smoky grey liquor out into four waiting martini glasses.
“The Dustball Martini,” he announced, proffering a pair of glasses to the newcomers. “Specialty of the house.”
Violetta matched his smile and delicately took a glass from his hand. Jackson stepped up and claimed the other, cradling the delicate glass in his meaty hand. The man raised a third to Maeve, who raised a hand in refusal.
“Not while I’m working,” she said.
“Oh, live a little,” Violetta shot back, still smiling. “Cheers,” she offered, turning back to their contact.
“Yamas,” he replied. The pair sipped their drinks, while Jackson shot his back in a single gulp. Violetta licked her lips at the surprisingly sweet taste.
“I assume you’re not just the bartender of this fine establishment,” she said, an eyebrow raised in amusement.
“Oh, no.” He stepped forwards, swapping his glass to his other hand. He offered his free hand, and they shook. “Demos. In the flesh, at last.”
“Good to finally meet you,” Violetta said, matching his firm grip.
“Pardon the mess,” he said casually, indicating to the gaming floor. Despite how long it would have been abandoned, the chamber was in immaculate condition.
“Not at all, I like what you’ve done with the place.”
“It’s cozy,” Demos replied with a smirk. Behind them, Jackson plucked the spare drink from the counter and dropped himself down at a card table. He drew out a deck of cards from under the table, shuffled, and began to lay them out.
“Can we get on with it?” Maeve said, frowning as she surveyed the place.
“Relax, people come here to have fun,” Violetta said, leaning casually against the bar. “Come on. Jackson’s having fun.” On cue, Jackson glanced up from his game of solitaire, grunted, and returned to the cards.
Violetta gave a theatrical sigh and turned her attention back to Demos. “Although yes, fun as this is we should get to discussing the actual job.”
“Of course,” Demos replied with a theatrical bow. “Your destination is the planet Esteros. We had some operations the Alwaid continent that have fallen under a cloud since our benefactors have departed.”
“Those benefactors being the Jade Falcon occupation?” Maeve asked.
“Of course. We had an understanding with the Jade Falcon forces where they would allow us to act with impunity when such was mutually profitable.”
Violetta paused for a moment, in which Jackson angrily swept his cards aside, before setting up again. “Weren’t you with the Jade Falcons?” she asked at length.
“Free Guilds, in fact,” Demos said. “We performed a variety of useful functions separate from the individual Clans.”
“They’re criminals,” Maeve stated flatly.
Demos paused, his smile never leaving his face. “Not exclusively, but in this case… Yes.”
“Opposition?” Maeve curtly asked.
“Esteros has fallen to local warlords, one of which we believe has taken control of our operation. They should have mostly conventional armour, but also seem to have a supply of BattleMechs from an unknown source.”
“Smash the warlord and re-establish supply from your local operation,” Violetta said, gaining a nod from Demos.
“Straightforward enough,” Maeve said.
“So then your operations are?” Violetta asked.
“Mostly mineral extraction. But we also did a sideline in human resources,” Demos replied simply.
“I don’t like this,” Maeve said, folding her arms.
Violetta turned to her subordinate. “Oh, but I think this is a grand opportunity.”
“You don’t know anything about these people,” Maeve replied, holding her ground as the commander advanced.
“I know their sort.” She gestured to the empty casino. “And he wants us to know. Look at this place. ‘Anything goes,’ it says to me. Get the job done, and they won’t care about our ‘extracurricular activities.’”
Maeve leaned closer, lowering her voice. “So you think they’ll just turn a blind eye while you plunder Esteros for everything you want.”
“I always get what I want,” Violetta said with a smirk, their faces mere centimetres apart.
A tense silence hung over the chamber. The pair locked gazes, neither giving an inch. Jackson’s hands were away from the cards, conspicuously hidden beneath the table.
“Fun though this is, perhaps we should finalise matters?” Demos offered. The tension broken, Maeve backed away. Violetta shot her one last smirk, then turned to the portly man.
“The Red Reavers accept,” she said, extending her hand.
“Bargained well and done,” Demos replied, shaking it firmly. “Or so they say.”
The two separated. Behind them, Jackson swept up the cards and tucked them into his pocket. Demos reached behind the bar to retrieve a satchel which he then slung over his shoulder. “We can talk about remuneration and such along the way.”
“Along the way?” Maeve asked. “You’re coming with us?”
Demos held up his hands defensively. “Oh don’t worry, I’m not going to micromanage anything. Leave the 'Mech business to the professionals, I say.” He shrugged expansively. “Just think of me as a proxy, along to observe and report back to the bigwigs.”
The quartet set out, footsteps muffled by the dense carpet. Jackson placed himself between Maeve and Violetta. If he noticed the former’s scowl, he gave no indication. The commander walked alongside her newfound ally ahead of the other pair.
“And just what are you going to report back?” Violetta asked of him.
“Whatever you like.”
-
Esteros
Star Type (Recharge Time): M7V (208 hours)
Position in system: 1 of 8
Time to Jump Point: 2.2 days
Number of Satellites: 3 (Alpha, Proxima, Laguna)
Surface Gravity: 0.95 g
Atmospheric Pressure: Normal (Breathable)
Equatorial Temperature: 42 C (Arid)
Surface Water: 65%
Highest Native Life: Reptile
Recharge Point: Zenith
HPG Class: B (Nonfunctional)
Population: 750,275,000
Socio-Industrial Levels: B-B-A-B-C
Landmasses (Capitol City): Alkahera (Bern), Alwaid, Cephei, Pavonis
While Esteros was first surveyed during the early years of human exploration, the system was not considered to be an outstanding prospect for colonisation. The only potentially habitable world in the system was closest to its red dwarf sun, which resulted in a climate that was suited for human habitation, but not without its complication. The sun, which loomed prominently in the sky as a baleful white disc, gave of ample ultraviolet radiation that would serve as a complication for any Terran-native life.
Local life forms were adapted for these conditions, but that only served to create further complications. The native vegetation evolved purplish foliage to better absorb the output from the system’s primary, which also resulted in them being entirely incompatible with Terran biology. That adaptation extended to every other life form on the world, creating an ecology that, while as complicated as any other world, was inherently hostile to Terran life. Furthermore, the combination of a weak ozone layer and proximity to its small star, the world was generally hot and dry, with vast stretches of desert. Frequent dust storms would plague even its more temperate regions, especially during the dry season where they could last for weeks on time.
On the positive side, surveys indicated ample mineral resources scattered across the world’s four continents, including rare ores and radioactives. Consequently, the Lyran Commonwealth planted a flag on the world in the 24th century, but made few efforts at large-scale colonisation for the next two hundred years. Other worlds offered similar resources, but without the added expense of bulk importing of food.
It was not until the early 27th century that the Commonwealth chose to more fully exploit the world. The development of new strains of genetically engineered plants and livestock allowed for development of a local agricultural sector that, in turn, spurred on development of the world. Large scale mining operations grew up almost overnight, with various companies eager to exploit the resources that the world had to offer. By the fall of the Star League, the world was supplying industries across the Commonwealth, while its material exports had even found their way into Star League industries and projects.
The fall of the Star League and the Succession Wars proved to be a mixed bag for Esteros. On one side, the world remained secure in the middle of the Lyran Commonwealth, far away from the reach of the Draconis Combine. On the other side, the collapse of interstellar trade crippled the world’s economy as its export markets dried up and the ability to ship goods offworld declined. Having risen during the height of the League, there was a simple assumption that those markets would always exist. The collapse of several large mining companies saw their assets acquired by the world’s noble families, who used the combination of their growing influence and economic chaos to strengthen their own power while stripping it away from the planetary assembly. During the Third Succession War, Esteros recovered somewhat as it became a key exporter to many Lyran industries, taking over from worlds that had been lost to conquest or the ravages of war.
BY 3030, the world was ruled by the Kayserling family, who were in turn supported by alliances with other, lesser nobles. The planetary assembly served largely as a rubber-stamp for policy and to confirm succession, while also handling most administrative matters. The next two decades proved to be good for the world, as the reconstruction and technological boom in the aftermath of the Fourth Succession War spurred on trade and demand for raw resources.
That brief moment of peace came crashing down with the Clan Invasion. After centuries of security, Esteros was now on the frontline, a mere jump from the Jade Falcon border. The world would be raided numerous times, its mineral resources proving to be tempting targets for the invaders. While the Federated Commonwealth (and later Lyran Alliance) stationed frontline troops on the world, the noble houses began crash build-ups of their own private armies in the name of protecting their world from predation. Those forces, however, proved to be more directly loyal to the families backing them than the world as a whole.
Esteros became a part of the Arc-Royal Defence Cordon, a situation that did not sit well with many of its nobles or the population. Many were wary of any alliance with Clan forces, especially given that the ARDC saw itself as independent of the Lyran Alliance. This uneasiness boiled over during the Civil War, when Barons Stavros and Eisling chose to openly support Katherine Steiner-Davion. The pair of them used their personal forces to size control of the Alwaid continent, but a lack of airpower and mobility for those forces meant that they had little ability to project that power. By the end of the civil war, both chose to stand down and recognise Graf Kayserling’s authority.
The world managed to escape the worst of the Jihad, avoiding major attacks outside of a few Jade Falcon raids. However, the disruptions caused by the conflict resulted in a shortage of commercial shipping, hampering ore exports. Esteros’ economy slumped, and did not really recover until the end of the century. At the same time, the nobles were forced to downsize their personal forces (which had ballooned over the last few decades) as a part of the Republic’s disarmament programs. Several attempts were made to unify the planetary forces into a single command, but they were hampered by the vested interests of the nobles.
In 3142, the world was invaded by Clan Jade Falcon. The disparate noble forces offered little resistance, and were forced to surrender after several one-sided clashes. Rather than occupy the whole world, the Falcons focused their efforts on the Alwaid and Cephei continents, exploiting their mineral resources to feed military industries in the Occupation Zone. The nobles on those continents were stripped of their ranks and holdings, and given the choice of either serving the Falcons or being executed. The planetary government on Alkahera was effectively sidelined; while the nobles retained their positions, they had no ability to fight the occupation.
Esteros’ surface is dominated by four major continents, as well as several large islands. Located in the northern hemisphere, Alkahera boasts a temperate climate and has become the most densely populated and the seat of political power, including both the planetary assembly and the holdings of Graf Kayserling. Alwaid, located in the southern hemisphere, is the largest of the four, and boasts ample mineral resources. The continent has become the focus for the mining industry, and was directly controlled by the Falcons during their occupation. Cephei straddles the equator, with much of its interior consisting of scorching deserts. Settlement was largely limited to coastal communities (including aquaculture using genetically-adapted sea life) with some mining in the interior. Finally, Pavonis lies largely within the south polar region, and is mostly uninhabited.
Due to the world’s thin ozone layer and climate, local fashions emphasise head-to-toe protection from the sun. While most people prefer simple and hard-wearing clothing and protection, elaborately designed headscarves have become a signature of the wealthy and nobility. Even then, skin cancer rates remain high, although the technological recovery of the mid-31st century helped alleviate those risks to some degree. Structures and cities are built around the combined needs of staying cool while being protected from the sun. Open spaces within the cities will feature ample shelter, including native trees.
On paper, Esteros is ruled by a planetary assembly that represents the people, with Graf Kayserling serving as a head of state. In practice, the assembly is effectively controlled by the nobles, and lacks any real power of its own. Representatives to the assembly are appointed by the noble houses and are expected to serve their interests, while the political parties are more alliances of noble groups. Since the Falcon occupation, the Assembly has really only represented Alkahera, while the Clan administration simply ignored it and ran their holdings as they saw fit.
-
From the campaign journal of Connor Carson
Well, here we are on Arcturus. Place is a right mess.
Don’t get me wrong, Sarah Regis and her people are very big on ambition, and their hearts are in the right place (or as right a place as you can get for Lyran nobles). Arcturus was basically abandoned by the Commonwealth, and left hanging on the line. Their unofficial reclamation of the world was about helping its people, but you can’t help but wonder how much of it is about a personal power grab and empire building as much as it is helping to save those abandoned worlds.
Case in point is the fact that we’re not the only mercs sitting here on Arcturus right now. They snapped up the Twenty-first Centauri Lancers and a couple of other commands in the same hiring spree that they got us in. It’s clear that they’re not hiring all these people to just sit on Arcturus and ‘stabilise’ nearby worlds. No, they’re going to be going after the other worlds in the former Falcon OZ. That suits me fine, given the contract we signed and especially the salvage deal that was a part of it. All I have to do is hope that their ambition doesn’t go too far.
I’m still not sure if it’s what they should be doing, mind you. Arcturus is still recovering from a major famine, local politics are basically a bomb that’s about to go off in their faces and the handful of other worlds they’ve ‘liberated’ are even worse. There’s also the question of what they’re going to do if Tharkad comes knocking and politely asks them to return to the fold. On the other side, given how paralytic the Lyran leadership seems to be right now, that might not ever happen. Still, maybe an RCT going rogue and setting up a private empire in their backyard could be the kick up the bum that the Lyrans needed.
Our immediate liaison is Kommandant Wynter de Vries of the newly-minted Tamar Jaegers. She was an experienced LCAF officer before she went rogue with the rest of her unit. More importantly, she comes off as having actually achieved her rank through at least some of her own efforts rather than being lifted up by her family name. We’ve had some planning meetings so far about how to integrate our forces and tactical planning, and she’s shown that she’s actually willing to listen to me, give me the freedom to use my men as I see fit and not just over-ride me for the sake if it. I’m genuinely shocked.
Or maybe she just recognises how dubious their situation is and doesn’t want to risk the only allies they have. Gotta look at all the options.
-
Guest chapter by KayEmm
Holding Pattern
Jerangle Forrest
Domain
Hell's Horses Occupation Zone
4 July 3151
The silence of the woods was broken by the sound of crashing branches and flittering wildlife, heralding the approach of something far larger and more threatening than the few birds that fled the canopy. A moment later, that threat made itself known, with the bounding feline form of a tabiranth emerging from within the woods, the creature charging forwards with a fierce determination.
It was driven on not by its own predatory instincts, however, but by the figure seated on its back. Riding in its saddle, her long hair flowing behind her, Kirsten Ravenwater urged her mount onwards as the pair of them raced through the forest. Together, the pair of them charged forwards, the agile creature weaving between trees and over obstacles while maintaining its aggressive pace.
Kirsten reached for a weapon attached to its flank, one that was both advanced and primitive at the same time. While the compound bow was made from the latest materials to exacting specifications, it still was a straightforward weapon that could trace its linage back millennia. Taking the bow, she quickly nocked an arrow and drew, holding the weapon steady.
The tabiranth burst out into a clearing, Kirsten quickly drawing a bead on one of several targets scattered around it. She let fly, but didn’t stop to see if the arrow made its mark. Instead, she drew another and fired again, this time at a second target, and then a third. As she did, the tabiranth circled around the clearing, keeping its speed up. Several shots flew out, each one hitting their target with a dull thud.
“Whoa, girl,” Kirsten spoke as she pulled back on the reigns, the tabiranth slowing and then coming to a stop in the centre of the clearing. Leaning forward, she patted the giant feline creature on the back of its neck, rubbing the fur. “Good work.”
Sitting up, Kirsten looked around at the clearing. Each one of the targets had an arrow stuck into it, with the shots usually closer to the centre than away from it. “Not bad,” she commented as she put her bow away, a crooked smirk forming on her face.
The tabiranth gave a low growl. Kirsten at first thought it was a response to her own comment, but then changed her mind as more sounds reached her ears. A crashing of branches and undergrowth, the same as what she’s heard during her own ride. However, there was more to go with it, the sounds of footfalls suggesting a far larger creature was approaching. Drawing her bow, she wheeled the tabiranth around, ready to strike at whatever emerged.
The form that emerged from the woods also resembled an outsized animal, but that was where the resemblance ended. Clearly mechanical in nature, it looked like nothing as much as an outsized coyote, with mechanical fangs bared in a fierce snarl. The red and grey color of its body only added to its menacing demeanour, while a pair of cannons rode high on its back.
The creature looked around, taking in Kirsten and her mount, and then the collection of targets around her. “Not bad at all,” a voice echoed from it; female, but heavily synthesized to the point of sounding mechanical.
“You should warn me first, Zara,” Kirsten shot back as she dismounted from her tabiranth, walking towards the mechanical canine.
“My apologies, Star Captain,” she replied. “But well done no less.”
“I have had plenty of time to practice,” Kirsten ruefully replied.
“Aff,” Zara agreed; to Kirsten’s ears it almost sounded like a bark, although that could have simply been her projecting onto the Procyon’s canine form. “How long have we been sitting here?”
“Too long,” Kirsten simply replied as she walked around, collecting her arrows. Her Cluster had taken the world back in February after a pitifully one-sided battle with Jade Falcon paramilitary forces. The intent was that the assault would be the first stage in a far larger campaign. Instead, it had stalled immediately, with the Horses simply waiting around.
“You seem to have occupied yourself well,” Zara noted.
Kirsten shrugged. “You should give horsemanship a try,” she replied. “There is nothing like the bond between rider and beast.”
“I prefer my own approach,” Zara admitted.
“Aye, I see what you mean,” Kirsten nodded. Even after years of fighting alongside ProtoMechs, she still did not fully understand the bond between the warrior and machine. More intimate and entangled than anything she could think of, the ProtoMech essentially became a part of its pilot, an extension of their own body. While Kirsten and her tabiranth, or her BattleMech for that matter, remained separate entities with one commanding the other, Zara and her Procyon were, for all extents and purposes, one and the same.
She gave her reigns a quick flick, directing the tabiranth back towards their staging grounds in a slow trot. Sara’s Procyon fell in beside her, the mechanical beast towering over the pair of them. “Look on the bright side of it, Kirsten,” Zara offered. “At least we are not those poor surats in Kappa, chasing pirates all over the barrens.”
“Aff, but at least they have something to chase,” Kirsten replied. “And as dezgra as bandits may be, at least they put up more of a fight than archery targets.”
-
Guest chapter by KayEmm
From the personal journal of Kaitlyn Farris
We made planetfall on Esteros. As I expected, it’s even more of a mess than our employer had lead us to believe.
When the Falcons conquered the world back in 3140, they left most of the local power structures intact, but made sure that there would be people for them to answer to. When they pulled out, they left behind a token solahma garrison and police force. While the former apparently was relocated offworld and the latter was dealt with, the planetary authorities didn’t go back to business as usual.
Instead, a lot of long-simmering issues exploded to the forefront. The Kayserling family had been the planet’s ruling family for centuries, which had created a long-standing rivalry with the Sigonella family, probably the second most powerful nobles on the world. As soon as they’d dealt with the last Falcons, Baroness Giana Sigonella made a play for power, accusing Graf Leonhard Kayserling of being collaborators. This split the planetary assembly, leading to a civil war between the two claimants.
While they are the legitimate rulers, Kayserling’s forces are lacking in their ability to project that authority. So far, the most that they can claim control of is part of one continent. As such, we were hired by them to put an end to things and restore order. While on paper both sides had managed to build up their own not inconsiderable armies, they consisted mostly of light vehicles and regular infantry.
Seems simple, right?
Two weeks ago, another merc unit made planetfall, having been hired by Sigonella for more or less the same reason. That amounted to a significant sudden shift in the balance of power, but it’s also something I had expected would happen. I already have Leon, Iulia and Anton working to find out as much as they can about our enemies.
Unfortunately, we can’t really rely on our employers for any backup. The newly-raised First Kayserling Armoured Guards are little more than reservists lead by noble aspirants who are more concerned with social standing than combat effectiveness. They are armed with whatever militia salvage the Falcons didn’t carry off, and have no real air power or mobility. The only real upside is that Sigonella’s forces aren’t any better off, mercenaries aside.
Even when we do deal with the mercs, that won’t fix everything. Despite the attempts to claim otherwise, the Falcons’ departure created a power vacuum. The nobles are fighting over the Alkahera continent, the other inhabited ones have collapsed into factional fighting and warlords. We have reports of pirates, armed militias and even rumors of Falcon holdouts to deal with.
But right now I need to deal with our first challenge. Kayserling is holding a reception in our honor.
-
Guest chapter by KayEmm
Acting the Part
Kaitlyn Farris looked at herself in the dress mirror and sighed. She was wearing a full military dress uniform, one that was mostly mid-grey with some flat red accents; a more muted version of the colors of her unit, who’s badge was on its shoulder. Functional, if a touch generic, it served the purpose of making her seem both professional and presentable. The outfit had been designed for her, and yet she still didn’t feel right in it. Even adding a small scarf, a signature part of her wardrobe, to it didn’t make her feel any better.
She glanced sideways at her friend and second, Iulia Dragan, and gave her a shrug. Unlike Kaitlyn, Iulia had made no effort to dress herself up, instead still wearing he usual rugged leathers. “What is wrong now?” Iulia asked.
“Do I look okay?”
“You look fine,” Iulia offered a resigned reply, knowing full well that she was going to keep repeating this same point. “Stop worrying about it.”
Kait looked at herself again. Her usually scruffy hair had been neatened up and pulled back into a functional, neat bun. A touch of makeup had helped to soften her features and conceal the small scars she’d accumulated over the years. “I don’t know,” she shrugged. “Maybe it’s my ‘middle of nowhere in the Periphery’ upbringing, but I really can’t handle being around nobles.”
“You met my mother,” Iulia pointed out.
“And that was a situation that was super uncomfortable on so many levels,” Kait simply replied.
“Well yes.”
“Also she is insane.”
“Fine, that too,” Iulia admitted.
A knock on the door interrupted the pair of them. “Come in,” Kait managed with a hint of resignation. A moment later, Leon stepped into the room. Like her, he was dressed in a uniform that they had bought especially for the occasion. He’d done a lot to clean himself up, being freshly shaven and his normally scruffy hair having been trimmed and neatened up.
“You look good there, Commander,” Leon admitted. He’d accessorised with a glove over his right hand and lacked the scarf, but otherwise, his uniform matched hers.
Kait blushed just a moment, which was accompanied by a sigh from Iulia. “And you too,” she replied. “Thank you for volunteering to be my plus one here.”
“Least I could do,” he admitted. “I have some experience with Lyran nobles, so I thought it would be a good idea to have your back here.”
“Better you then me,” Iulia added.
“Shush you,” Kait joked back to her, before turning to Leon. “I guess serving in the LCAF does that for you.”
“Nothing like being talked down to by your betters and being reminded that you’re too poor to be promoted,” Leon commented, his tone more joking than anything else. “Trust me, as much as they’ll be grateful that you’re here to protect them, they’ll all be muttering about how poor and dirty you are behind your back.”
“Charming people,” Kait sighed.
“So here’s my suggestions,” Leon offered. “Number one, mention how long-lived your family unit is and how there’s been a Farris in it for generations. They’ll respect tradition, and it gives you and air of...” he waved his good hand a moment in thought. “breeding, I guess. Like you’re a noble.”
“Should I not mention that it used to be the Blackstones in charge?”
“Gods no,” Leon shook his head. “None of them will know a thing about your family or unit history anyway, so you can embellish the truth a little to help yourself out there.”
“And what if one of them is a hobby genealogist or military historian?”
“Fake it,” Leon simply replied.
“Thanks,” she nodded. “Next?”
“If any of them offer to introduce you to their son, feign politeness but don’t get too engaged,” he offered. “Odds are they’re trying to buy your loyalty, marry off an otherwise worthless kid or both.”
“Understood,” she nodded. “Last thing I want to do is get tied down to one world or family, especially given how volatile the situation is.”
“You’re dealing with nations that didn’t exist a year ago,” Leon agreed. “And don’t bet on any of them being around a year from now.”
“What next?’
“Be wary around any military commanders, be they militia officers or noble house guards or whatever else,” he suggested. “Many of them are going to have completely jumped-up opinions of themselves and their forces, and very little actual combat experience.”
“So be ready for a lot of ‘advice’ from them,” she considered.
“Exactly,” he confirmed. “Each and every one of them is a self-professed expert who got to their position through wealth or family connections, not actual qualifications.”
“The same applies to me,” she noted. “I’m the commander of the unit because of who my parents were.”
“Yes, but you still work for the position,” Leon countered. “And you listen to your officers and your men. That makes a world of difference.” That bought out a chuckle. “After all, you’re taking my advice here.”
“Well, when you put it like that,” Kait admitted. “Anything else?”
“I think we’re mostly good,” Leon finished. “Just remember to smile and nod at all times and you’ll be fine.”
-
Noble Goals
[recording begins]
“The contract with our employer had made it clear that we were to liberate Pangkalan and restore the Duke’s rule over the world, while ensuring that they would have his loyalty. The actual situation we found, however, was a lot more complicated.”
“The world had been captured by the Jade Falcons a decade ago. By all reports, they had faced relatively little resistance to their assault, facing only militia units. The intelligence from our employer put the Seventh Mixed Cluster on the world, but noted that information was out of date and that there was every possibility that the Falcons were no longer present.”
“The hope was that we would simply land on the planet, perhaps deal with some remnant paramilitary units and then plant a flag. While not the most glamourous of assignments, fulfilling such a contract would, of course, be richly rewarding.”
“We were correct in that the Jade Falcons had largely departed the world, leaving behind their paramilitary forces. Armed with only light armour and conventional infantry, they were no match whatsoever for my men and their capabilities. They made an ultimately futile last stand in the capitol city before we dispatched them. In retrospect, that proved to be the easy part of the assignment.”
“Note to self, try to make this sound a little more dramatic. Although I’m not sure how much I can do with our dispatching a bunch of poorly-armed rabble.”
“However, that did not fulfil our obligations, which proved to be far harder than anticipated. After we had dispatched the rabble, we discovered that the Duke had died unexpectedly only a week after the Falcons had departed. His two sons, Santoso and Siem Latupapura had both claimed his title, and as yet neither had been ratified by the planetary council. It turned out that the leadership of the Clan administration had simply sidestepped the pair of them in order to keep the planet running, an outcome that was obviously no longer possible.”
“This now made our unit, and myself in particular, the kingmaker.”
“Santoso immediately made his case to me. He hosted a celebration in my honour at the family estate, hailing myself and my men as the heroes of Pangkalan, delivering them from their oppressors. His treatment of us was nothing short of magnanimous, ensuring that we had whatever that we needed within the limits of what he could provide. He knew how to act the part of a true gentleman, one befitting of his station.”
“On the other side, Siem tried to impress on us his plans for the world. He sought to rebuild its economy, which had been stagnant before the occupation and the pillaging that the Falcons had subjected it to. Likewise, he sought to reform the leadership to prevent the centralisation of power that had caused this deadlock and that the Falcons had exploited.”
“Hm, I probably should re-word that.”
“Anyway, the issue was resolved for us three weeks after our victory. A rather brutish group of mercenaries, calling themselves Stark’s Sharks, dropped onto the world. They claimed that they were here for the same reason as us; to liberate the world. Unfortunately, they now saw us as an obstacle to that goal, and chose to attack us.”
“Fortunately, for all their ferocity, they were also very much lacking in skill and refinement. We dealt them a savage blow, which was enough to bring their leader to an offer to parlay. As a part of his ransom, he revealed that he had been hired by Siem Latupapura through some rather unsavoury contacts. The simple lag time with no working HPGs meant that by the time they arrived, we were already in place.”
“I took this evidence to the council, who quickly acted on it. Santoso was ratified as the Duke of Pangkalan and assumed his position as its leader. On the other side, Siem was arrested on crimes of treason, although his position ensured that he was exiled rather than being incarcerated or executed like a commoner. As soon as the matter was resolved, with approached Santoso with our message from our employer; given all that had happened, he gladly accepted it and pledged his fealty.”
“And with that, we had fulfilled our contract. I had no doubt that Duke Brewer would be satisfied with the outcome.”
- Luis Caesar, unpublished notes
-
Guest Chapter by Zogster
Opportunity Knocks
Galatea City
Galatea
Galatean League
12 November 3151
As he was lead into the cavernous lobby of the former Bannson Universal office on Galatea, Jakub Day couldn’t help but gawk a little. He had travelled throughout the Inner Sphere with the Star of Sumer and seen all manner of sights, but this one was just a little special.
The fact that it had been abandoned for years might have something to do with it.
Even in its dilapidated state, he could see its former glory. It was definitely built to impress, a use of space that was precious on a planet like Galatea. However, its features were long shut down, with holographic emitters and glittering displays removed long ago. Even the walls showed large discoloured spots, shaped suspiciously like the old Bannson Universal symbol.
“Impressive, huh?” Katarina Morrison asked him.
Jakub just nodded his response. Instead, he fell into step behind Katarina and the unit’s commander, Lana Kotovski. The three of them headed past the dilapidated reception desk and down a corridor lined with long-inactive elevators. At the end, a door led into a conference room where someone was waiting for them.
The room stood in contrast to the rest of the building. While it was only minimally furnished, the lights were on and the faint hum of an air conditioner could be heard. But the room was dominated by a sophisticated meeting table with a glowing holographic emitter embedded under the surface. Jakub, however, was drawn to the man awaiting them. He was handsome, smartly dressed and immaculately groomed, but also somehow immediately forgettable. Jakub had a feeling that he wouldn’t be able to pick the man out in a lineup, which was probably intentional.
The man stepped forward, nodded to the group. “Kotovski, Morrison… Day,” he said, with only the slightest pause conveying his surprise at seeing Jakub here. Jakub nodded and extended his hand, which the man shook in turn.
“Jakub, this is Antonin Ryback. He works with us on gathering information,” Lana said. Jakub nodded, understanding that there was a lot more than was being said. He also figured it was best not to press the matter.
“Good to see you again,” Antonin said to Lana.
“And under better circumstances than last time, I hope,” she replied.
“With better news, definitely. But first…” He glanced over to Jakub, before returning his gaze to Lana, eyebrow cocked questioningly.
Instead, Katarina spoke up. “We thought it best that Jakub be more involved in the unit. At all levels.”
Jakub spoke up at that point. “If it is inconvenient sir, I can leave.”
“No, no.” Antonin raised his hand. “It’s a fair point. And I suppose if he’s to be more involved, then he should get a say in what’s happening here.”
“And I assume that has to do with the recent arrivals?” Lana asked as the quartet took their seats.
Antonin nodded. “The newcomers to Galatea are representatives of a group calling the Alyina Mercantile League. Essentially they’re remnants of the Jade Falcon Occupation Zone that was abandoned during the Clan’s push to Terra.”
Antonin keyed a few commands on the conference table and it projected a holographic star map of the former Occupation Zone. Now it was left an empty grey, bordered by the orange of the Hells Horses and blue of the Lyran Commonwealth, as well as a pair of small patches representing the emergent Tamar Pact and Vesper Marches.
“What do we know about them?” Katarina asked.
“Not much,” Antonin freely admitted. “As the name suggests, they’re apparently under the control of the former Falcons’ merchant caste.”
“So it’s a… post-Clan society?” Jakub put forward.
“Not quite,” Antonin replied. “We think they still follow a Clan structure, just without a warrior caste in charge.”
“Hardly seems like a Clan structure,” Katarina commented, confusion showing on her face.
“And they need mercenaries,” Lana cut in. “Between the Falcons’ move on Terra and their own structure, I imagine they’re lacking for armed forces.”
“And that’s where you come in,” Antonin said. “They’ve got a lot of contracts going and I want someone in our… group,” he said, briefly eyeing Jakub, “On the ground over there.”
“You have an ulterior motive,” Katarina said. Not asked, Jakub noted. He began to imagine that ulterior motives were commonplace when dealing with Antonin.
For his part, Antonin shrugged. “Simply put, we know nothing about them. Are they throwing of the shackles of Clan occupation, or are they simply seeking to put someone else in charge? We need someone there to answer these questions.”
“And make allies,” Jakub blurted out. The others turned to him, each waiting for him to continue. “Alynia was a Jade Falcon factory world. And if the merchant caste is in charge, they’re surely going to be open to trade. It could be good to make friends there.”
“That too,” Antonin admitted. Katarina turned and nodded to Jakub, pride showing on her face.
“It sounds promising,” Lana admitted. “And if Jakub’s right, it could be a good opportunity to refresh and expand our equipment.” She glanced at Katarina, who gave her a slight nod. “We’ll confer and get back to you, but it’s looking good.”
With that they stood. Antonin shook each of their hands in turn. “Don’t take too long,” he reminded them. “While they are offering a lot of contracts, they will dry up quickly.”
“Rest assured, you’ll know soon enough,” Lana replied. With that, the trio departed.
Back out on the street beyond, Katarina quietly asked Lana, “You’re not going to take it?”
“Oh, I am,” Lana replied. “I just like to see him sweat now and then.” Despite herself, a small smile crept across her face.
“And it’s a great opportunity to learn,” said a voice behind them.
The trio turned as one. Lana started back, her surprise clear. Katarina furrowed her brow and asked “When did you get here?”
Jakub, on the other hand, called out “Deep!” He seized the ComStar adept’s hand, and the two of them conducted an elaborate handshake which ended in them bumping their shoulders against each other.
“Think about it,” Deep Zimmerman said with an eager smile. “You could be on the ground floor to one of the greatest changes in Clan society. The chance to see it happen, or maybe even change the course.” He sighed dramatically. “What I wouldn’t give to come with you. But I’ve got work to do here.”
“Don’t worry, Deep,” Jakub said. “I’ll be sure to tell you all about it.”
They said their goodbyes and the adept departed. Almost immediately, Katarina pulled in close to Jakub and said “You have some explaining to do, young man.”
-
Guest chapter by Zogster
In Limbo
Limbo Badlands
Pandora
Jade Falcon Occupation Zone
25 December 3151
It was a hot day in the middle of nowhere, which suited Wynter DeVires just fine. The reorganised Tamar Jaegers had arrived on Pandora to liberate the former Lyran world from its Jade Falcon rulers. In the wake of the Falcons’ evacuation of their former occupation zone, the newly formed Tamar Pact had moved to drive out the remaining garrisons from a number of nearby worlds, bringing them into the fold. As a major factory world, Pandora was an important step.
They had issued a formal challenge to the planet’s occupiers, which they believed to be a disorganised solahma force. The challenge set the site of their battle out in the middle of nowhere, away from settlements and important infrastructure. This suited Wynter perfectly; the further they were from harming civilians, the better.
Her company of BattleMechs from the Third Tamar Jaegers deployed at the edge of the badlands, where grassy plains gave way to broken ground and rocky passages. On her order they advanced, heading to flush out the Jade Falcon forces and hopefully end things swiftly. They had been set upon immediately. The rocky passes disgorged a swarm of light tanks and hovercraft that came barrelling at her company. A smattering of smaller vehicles held back, peppering them with long-range autocannon fire.
“Form up and spread fire. Break their charge!” Wynter ordered. Her lance clustered by her side, and as one they opened fire on the charging vehicles. She focused on an incoming hovercraft, fouling its lift skirts with her particle cannons. The vehicle ploughed into a rocky outcropping and came to a halt, but kept firing its autocannon at her. She switched her focus to a light tank that was bearing down on her. It was slowed by the broken terrain, making it an easy target. Her autocannon and missiles ripped into the tank’s hull. Even so it pressed on, peppering her 'Mech with its own light autocannons and rapid-fire Gauss weapons.
That’s a Sokar, she thought to herself, recognising the light tank as it continued its charge. The vehicle was designed for softer targets, not the wall of BattleMechs it was coming up against. She strode her Defiance forward to meet it. The tank opened up with its primary weapon, a pair of heavy flamers that licked across her 'Mech’s torso. Wynter smiled to herself as the heat rose in her cockpit. She could feel a surge of power running through the Defiance as its triple-strength myomers kicked into gear. Her 'Mech took a mighty step forward and brought its broad foot down on the Sokar’s front, crushing it utterly and impacting it into the ground.
She paused a moment to take stock of the situation. The Scourge and Götterdämmerung at her flanks were making quick work of the fire-support vehicles, while the four-legged Ursa that completed her lance was in amongst the vehicles, spraying fire left and right. She turned her attention back to the crashed hovercraft and detonated it with a pair of precise particle cannon shots.
“Not the best we’ve fought,” came the Götterdämmerung’s gravelly-voiced pilot.
“They’re desperate,” Wynter replied. She looked over at the array of destroyed vehicles before her. “That makes them dangerous. Be on your guard.”
“Copy that,” came the reply.
To a man, her unit turned back to face the rocky passes ahead of them. “The bulk of their forces should be through there. We press on,” Wynter said. Without waiting for a reply, she accelerated her Defiance forward. Her unit fell in step around her.
A quick report of heightened winds was all the warning she had before the dust storms blew in. They scoured across the dusty badlands, picking up monstrous clouds of dirt and sand. Soon enough they had blown right into the Tamar Jaegers, obscuring the battlefield and fouling sensors and radar alike.
Wynter didn’t like it. She wasn’t fond of surprises, especially on the battlefield, and felt she’d had enough of them for one day. “Keep close, and watch out for ambushes.”
“They’re probably as blind as we are,” the Ursa’s pilot replied.
“Don’t count on it,” came Wynter’s warning.
The minutes dragged on as they picked their way through the broken terrain. Between the unsure footing and the limited visibility, their advance was painfully slow. Wynter remained on edge, trying to pick out any sign of movement from the blowing dust around her, or any sound other than the wind’s incessant howl.
“Contacts!” came the call over the radio mere moments before they were beset with laser fire. Searing bright beams shot out from the darkness, scattering amongst her forces. Few seemed to find their marks, and even fewer inflicted serious damage. Nonetheless, the fire continued to cut through the murk.
They’re firing blind. “Spread out and keep moving. Don’t give them consistent targets.” Wynter watched her board as her troops followed her orders, splitting themselves up to avoid drawing fire. Another spread of laser fire struck out blindly in amongst them. Her lance returned fire as one. Missiles, particle cannons, Gauss and autocannon fire concentrated on the point of origin. They were met with a satisfying series of secondary detonations.
Then the main force came crashing down upon them. A mismatched spread of BattleMechs charged out of the blowing dust, colliding with her forces. They sported a wide variety of designs, both Clan 'Mechs and refitted Inner Sphere models. Already spread out, her men picked their targets and fired.
A pair of deafening reports broke out at her side. Wynter found her 'Mech rocked by a spread of shot from two massive autocannons. The bent form of a Hunchback IIC came at her, firing clusters of shot again and again from its shoulders. She returned fire with her own autocannon and particle cannons, scouring armour off the smaller 'Mech. Seemingly undeterred by her return fire, the Hunchback charged forwards, blazing away relentlessly.
Up close she could make out its shiny, factory fresh finish. It was barely marked, beyond a Jade Falcon symbol emblazoned on its chest. They’re using 'Mechs straight off the assembly line, Wynter thought. How desperate are they? She refocused and fired, her cannons striking low and cutting into the 'Mech’s legs. Shocked by the sudden barrage of fire, the Hunchback tumbled forwards and crashed flat on its face. It would almost be comical if it wasn’t trying to kill me.
Fire from above drew her attention. Within the swirling vortex of dust, she could make out a flight of Skadi attack VTOLs joining the battle. The aircraft struggled to maintain position while firing down on the Jaegers with their powerful autocannons. Checking briefly to see that the Hunchback remained still, Wynter backed her Defiance into cover behind a rocky outcropping. Rather than pursue, the Skadi switched targets, angling towards her lancemate’s Ursa. Occupied by an enemy Crossbow, the Ursa was blindsided by the VTOL’s fire, with explosive shells raking across its forelegs.
“Take out their air support,” Wynter commanded. She stepped around the other side of the outcropping and fired up, her autocannon’s pellets raking across the Skadi’s body. A moment later a volley of missiles from the Götterdämmerung struck it as well. Explosions tore across its body, one ripping a section out of its lift fans. The Skadi spiraled out of control, dropping from the sky. At the last moment it seemed to right itself, surging forwards and plunging into the Götterdämmerung’s chest. A massive explosion lit up the dusty sky, enveloping the stocky BattleMech.
“I’m… fine…” grunted the Götterdämmerung’s pilot. It emerged from the blaze, its chest blackened and pitted but still seemingly intact. Wynter turned her attention to her lancemate’s Ursa. The quad 'Mech was struggling, as an intense laser beam from the Crossbow’s barrel arm struck its damaged leg. The leg buckled, sending the Ursa lurching forwards; still upright but crippled. Even as the Crossbow strode forwards, Wynter did likewise, opening up with all her weapons at once and letting the heat flow over her. Lasers, missiles, autocannon and particle fire all cut into the Crossbow. The Ursa raised its body and fired as well, raking the Clan 'Mech with pulse laser fire. Another brilliant explosion lit up the dust clouds as the Crossbow’s heavy laser detonated from within, tearing its barrel-like arm apart.
Before she could press further, a proximity alarm sounded, warning her of as sudden attack from behind. She swiftly turned, her 'Mech’s myomers surging with power, to find the battered form of the Hunchback IIC bearing down on her from above. It fired its autocannons, scouring armour across her 'Mech’s body and sending up warning lights across the board. Rather than retreat, she stepped into its leap, swinging her 'Mech’s bulky right arm up and catching in in the abdomen with an enhanced punch. It hung for a moment, suspended on the end of her arm before she triggered her PPC at point-blank range. Crackling blue lightning cut through the Hunchback’s sensitive internals and shot out the other side. The 'Mech dropped lifeless to the ground once more.
She turned her attention back to the crippled Ursa. Even as it poured fire on the rapidly disintegrating Crossbow, a Point of battle armour closed in on it. Wynter quickly checked her unit’s positions and ordered the Scourge to back him up. Her lancemate complied, closing on the skirmish and tearing into the battle armour with accurate laser fire. Even with the loss of their fellows, two of the remaining point savaged the Ursa’s ankle. The quad ‘Mech lurched forwards once more, its maimed legs collapsing under its weight and sending it crashing to the ground. Wynter and the Götterdämmerung quickly joined the fray, pouring fire onto the Crossbow. Even as it was torn apart, it advanced on the downed Ursa, but its frame gave way and it collapsed before it could capitalise on the ‘Mech’s state. The Scourge, meanwhile, finished off the battle armour Point as they made a beeline for its own legs.
“Those were Constables,” he said, as they paused a moment to take stock of the battlefield.
Wynter nodded her understanding. The Constable battle armour was used by Clan Watch and paramilitary police forces, not on a battlefield. Unless they were this desperate.
“Status,” she barked out, and got a quick round of replied. All were battered, but still functional save for the Ursa. The relentless enemy had taken their toll. At the same time, the chaotic battlefield and driving dust storm had separated out the Tamar Jaegers, leaving nobody in sight beyond the four of them. And for now, the battlefield was quiet. Reports were coming in from other sectors that the enemy was holding fast. Her unit was to regroup and flank the core of their forces. Wynter acknowledged.
It shouldn’t have been this hard, she thought to herself. “They just would not give in,” she mused, as much to herself as anyone else.
“Why would they?” came the reply from the Götterdämmerung’s pilot. “We pushed them into a corner. Where would they go?”
“Fair,” Wynter replied. “Alright, let’s regroup with-“
Her order was cut off by a stream of hypervelocity metal shreds emerging from the billowing darkness. They tore across her Defiance’s side and arm, shredding the damaged limb and ripping it from the torso. Wynter recoiled and surged back, trying to find cover. At the same time her lance spread out, taking positions of their own to bear down on the origin point of their attacker.
Within moments their target appeared. A lone BattleMaster lurched out of the dust, its factory sheen scarred and marked with innumerable weapon impacts. Its right arm was raised as it swept a hyper-assault Gauss rifle across the battlefield, looking for targets. Wynter sent out a call on open channels, saying “You’re outnumbered. Surrender.” The only response was a hail of metal slugs tearing into her cover.
“He wants to die by the sword,” the Scourge pilot said.
“Let him,” came Wynter’s response.
As one, the unit stepped out of cover. The BattleMaster concentrated on Wynter, opening fire with a barrage of lasers. Armour melted off her ‘Mech’s body, sending up more warnings across her board. The return was devastating. Laser fire from the three standing 'Mechs cut into the BattleMaster, searing armour off it. The Scourge’s Gauss rifle punched a hole in its side, while Wynter and the Götterdämmerung rained particle fire across its left arm and leg. Rocked by impacts, it tried to bring its guns to bear on Wynter once more, only to have the Götterdämmerung interpose itself between them and take the brunt of its withering fire.
Wynter stepped from behind her impromptu cover and opened fire, impacting hard on its right torso. The 'Mech’s side collapsed, leaving the arm to drop unceremoniously off its frame. Still it pressed on, firing its few remaining lasers at Wynter. She took the hits, the armour wearing dangerously thin over her 'Mech’s reactor. But before it could capitalise, the BattleMaster was shaken by another devastating volley of fire. Missiles rained across its left side, before a final Gauss slug shattered its structure. The 'Mech’s remaining arm flew off, sliced from it at the shoulder. The towering assault 'Mech finally shut down, collapsing to its knees.
“Is it over?” the Ursa’s pilot asked.
“For now,” Wynter replied, surveying the carnage. Distant sounds of battle echoed throughout the chaotic field, but they were clear for the moment. Her lance picked their way through the badlands, angling to regroup with the rest of her unit. Shattered BattleMechs lay around them, both the unpainted remnants of the solahma forces and the recently rebranded Tamar Jaegers. She could see more of her command, and they were to a man battered and damaged.
“It was always going to end like this,” she mused, looking at the carnage. “They wouldn’t let it happen any other way.”
-
Guest chapter by KayEmm
Screaming Demons
Kait –
I managed to dig up an old MRBC profile on the Screaming Demons, the unit Sigonella hired. While it is five years old at this point, it still has a lot of useful information about them. While they are in theory a bigger unit than we are, I feel that we’ve got the edge in terms of experience, tactics and leadership. And I’m confident that they won’t be ready for some of the tricks we can pull.
Leon
History
The Screaming Demons first appeared on Galatea in 3136 as a hodgepodge mix of BattleMechs, IndustrialMechs, light tanks and conventional infantry. The group was lead by Captain Milo Russel, who used his experience as a RAF officer to help attract new recruits and sell his unit. The fact that he had been dishonorably discharged was conveniently omitted from his recruitment pitches. Regardless of the truth, he was able to take advantage of the growing instability across the Inner Sphere to help build up his unit.
As the Republic of the Sphere continued to crumble, Russel found no shortage of work. The unit saw considerable action over the next three years in the territories of the former Republic, working for everyone from Successor State armies to Republican holdouts and even several short-lived local warlords and minor powers. The unit found enough success to continue to grow during this period, with Russel showing himself to be a competent, if unspectacular leader.
Russel managed to leverage this experience to land a plum contract as a support unit for the LCAF during Operation HAMMERFALL. While not a part of the initial invasion forces, the Screaming Demons were used in mop-up and counterinsurgency operations on former Republic worlds that the Lyrans or their Wolf allies had conquered. At first, this went well for them, with the unit acquiring valuable salvage while suffering very few losses. Even after the reformation of the Free Worlds League as a response, Russel was confident enough to extend his contract with the Commonwealth.
This decision would come back to haunt him when the Wolves turned on their Lyran allies. The Screaming Demons deserted their posts in the face of the Wolf forces, commandeering a JumpShip and fleeing back towards Commonwealth space. Even this proved to be no safe haven, as the unit was again caught out as the Wolves pushed further into the Commonwealth. Managing to reach Galatea, the unit survived, only to end up with a black mark on their career due to their seeming desertion.
After rebuilding, the unit managed to land what was seen as a safe contract in the center of the Commonwealth, away from the Wolf advance. Instead, they found themselves caught in the Falcon surge across the nation. Outnumbered and facing destruction, the Screaming Demons fled again, this time heading towards the anti-spinward reaches of the state.
While they survived, the unit was charged with desertion and piracy in absentia. And even with the MRBC being nearly powerless to enforce such charges, the unit’s reputation has suffered no less. For the last three years it has been operating out of the Rim Collective, taking advantage of the relative lack of competition in the market to slowly rebuild.
Composition
The Screaming Demons presently stand at a combined-arms battalion in strength. The centrepiece of the unit is Hellfire Company, which is commanded by Major Russel himself, and consists entirely of BattleMechs. Brimstone Company consists of a mixture of light vehicles and VTOLs, and is chiefly tasked with supporting Hellfire. Damnation Company is made up of conventional infantry and are usually relegated to support and security roles; many of its members are DisPossessed MechWarriors looking for a chance to regain their status. Finally, Hellbat Lance consists of a pair of aerospace fighters.
(From what I’ve gathered, they have expanded their numbers since this report. Either that, or they’re good at making themselves seem bigger than they are. Either way, I’d be careful – Leon)
Most of the unit’s strength is made up of older designs, with many dating back to the Jihad or earlier, and it lacks Clan technology. Their infantry forces are particularly poorly equipped, and are lacking in terms of both equipment and effectiveness. Where possible, the unit likes to use flame or heat based weapons, such as flamers, plasma rifles or inferno missiles.
Support
Presently, the Screaming Demons are only just making ends meet with regards to their technical support needs. While adequate in their skills and experience, their technical support teams lack in equipment and do not have deep reserves to draw from. On the other hand, many among their crews are masters of scavenging, jury rigging and acquiring supplies by dubious means, which helps to cover their shortfalls. The current state of the unit’s financials are such that the requests for new equipment are likely to go unanswered for the time being.
(If anything, their financial situation has gotten worse over time. One big loss could be all it takes to knock them out – Leon)
The unit possesses two DropShips. The majority of its assets are handled by the Inferno, a Triumph-class DropShip. While its interior has been rearranged to suit the unit’s needs, this has served to only exacerbate the unloading problems endemic to the class. On the other side, the small BattleMech force is carried onboard the Terror, a Trojan-class DropShip. Both vessels are believed to be in a poor state of repair. The unit does not have access to a JumpShip.
Colours and Insignia
The unit insignia depicts a winged, demonic figure, its mouth open in an angry shout. In theory the unit uses a fiery red, yellow and orange scheme, however many of its 'Mechs and vehicles either sport camouflage patters or patchworks based on whatever is available to them.
-
Guest chapter by KayEmm
From the personal journal of Lewis Guise
I thought the Esteros contract looked too good to be true. Turns out I was right.
Major Russel saw an opportunity and leapt at it, and I don’t blame him at all. All we had to do was intervene in a local civil war and make sure the ‘right’ side won. It seemed simple enough; stomp on a poorly-armed noble guard and call it a day. Our employer, Baroness Giana Sigonella, was willing to give Major Russel the leeway to do whatever he wanted to win the day, although she was pretty specific in ensuring that we limited collateral damage and didn’t engage in any sort of ‘extracurricular’ activities. Of course, that just meant ‘make sure the old hag doesn’t find out’.
No sooner had we landed then she’d put us on duty. We made great strides in pushing forwards, quickly breaking the stalemate that had been ongoing for the last couple of months while making inroads into the Fulda Badlands. We were right in our estimate of the enemy forces too. Graf Kayserling’s militia were little more than medium tanks and infantry, and didn’t even try to fight us. Instead they ran as soon as they saw us coming,
Old lady Sigonella was concerned that he was stalling for time or the like, but Major Russel simply figured that they were cowards who didn’t want to get into a fight they couldn’t possibly win. Turns out she was right, for once.
Another merc unit, the Iron Knights, just made planetfall five days ago. There’s no question who they’re working for either, as Graf Kayserling hosted them with a parade through the centre of the freaking capitol city to show them off. After that they’ve dropped off the radar, having presumably been sent into the field to hunt us down. It makes sense, since we’re the biggest threat to Kayserling’s forces.
Yes it’s a setback, but its also not the end of the world. We need to hit them hard and inflict a few losses and show them that they don’t stand a chance against us. That way we can bring their leader to the negotiating table and make him realise that he’s better off sitting this one out. Russel’s smart, and he has me at his back. We’ve got this.
-
From the campaign journal of Connor Carson
At first I was somewhat disappointed to have been left out of the invasion of Pandora. After all, a big part of the Pact’s sales pitch was the opportunity for Clan salvage, and we weren’t going to get that from sitting around on our bums on Arcturus. However, after I read the reports that came back from Pandora, I’m beginning to think we got a better deal by missing out on it. Furthermore, as conniving as it sounds, the losses suffered by the Tamar Jaegers are to our advantage; they are going to have to lean more heavily on their mercenaries to get the job done.
While we’ve been helping to train the newly-raised Tamar Pact Militia and keep the peace, I know that we’re going to be seeing more action soon. Regis is clearly looking to expand and build her own little empire based around the historical Tamar Pact. I wish her a lot of luck with that, given that the heart of the Pact is still in the middle of the Horses’ OZ, and I know that she doesn’t have the forces for that. Still, nothing wrong with dreaming big. Her followers seem to be in on that idea as well; the Pandora debrief headed up by Kommandant DeVires was very informative in that regard. Despite the losses her unit had suffered, she was eager to get back out there.
When it happens, we’re well positioned for any further advances into the (former?) Falcon OZ. We’re still at full strength and basically itching to go. And unlike the recent mess with the Burnt Offering, we’ve remained entirely in the Pact’s good books with no marks against us. I’ve been using our training exercises to help get the unit ready for the forces we’re likely to face. On the other hand, if what I’ve gathered is true, there may not be anything for us to face. So fewer opportunities for that valuable salvage but on the other hand, less chance of losses.
Depending on how things go, I feel that an expansion of the unit could be on the books. We’re back up to where we were five years ago, and the guys we absorbed along the way are well integrated into the unit’s structure. And while I know there’s still a few bad eggs among them, I also figure that if they were going to try and pull anything they would have done it by now.
As strange as it may seem, things are looking up for us. With where they are now and the modicum of stability that they’ve achieved thus far, I don’t see the Tamar Pact going away any time soon. And as long as they’re willing to keep paying, I’m all for that.
-
Guest chapter by KayEmm
Firewalkers
Outside New Hampshire City
Orkney
Jade Falcon Occupation Zone
17 November 3151
Ordinarily, Kirsten Ravenwater would have been impressed by the scenery around her BattleMech as it advanced. It was unlike anything she’d seen before, with rugged mountains punctuated by 'Mech-sized crystal formations, as well as giant, cactus like trees that created a truly alien landscape. Instead, she was tense, not with fear, but the anticipation of what was to come.
And as the first red indicators appeared on her tactical display, she couldn’t help but feel the slightest surge of excitement. A moment later, the voice of Star Commander Orson cracked over the command channel, confirming their presence. “Enemies sighted. Appears to be a mix of medium BattleMechs and vehicles.”
“Aff,” she confirmed, her Ebon Jaguar slowly accelerating towards the targets before she gave her orders. “All units, you are free to engage.”
This was the moment she’d been waiting for since the start of the year; the long-postponed invasion of the Jade Falcon Occupation Zone. A chance for the Hell's Horses to flex their muscles and extend the Clan’s reach, while also offering a chance at glorious combat.
It was the latter that she was most excited for.
Her BattleMech forces charged forwards, with supporting vehicles around them as a veritable stampede of metal, bearing down on their foes. From the side of her cockpit, she could see Zara’s Procyon Point in among their forces, looking more like a pack of gigantic hunting dogs than the machines they were. She quickly flipped open a private channel to her friend. “And good hunting.”
“You too,” Zara’s voice came back over the channel, colored by an almost machine-like twinge that Kirsten had come to accept as normal from the ProtoMech warrior. She never could fully understand the bond between warrior and machine that Zara often spoke of, but she also was not going to doubt its effectiveness.
Ahead she could see the already unfolding battle, with their recon elements already engaged with the Falcon forces. Orson’s Epona was literally running rings around a hapless Ku tank, pouring fire into it from its lasers. The boxy vehicle shuddered and lurched as one of its wheels collapsed, sending weapons fire spraying in every direction save for at the attacking hovercraft. As it collapsed, its rear hatch swung open with conventional infantry pouring out.
Not Elementals, she noted.
Weaving in among the crystal pillars that dotted the battlefield, Kirsten sought her own prey. Her systems locked onto a possible target, a boxy Pinion that did not appear to be engaged so far. It was one of a Star of 'Mechs, all of which were reading as medium or light designs. So are they holding back or buying time for reinforcements, she considered as her 'Mech closed the distance. Because they have to know that they are outmatched by now.
Any other concerns were put aside by the tone from her targeting system, indicating a missile lock. Thumbing the trigger, Kirsten sent two flights of missiles at the Pinion, watching as the missiles streaked towards their target. Only a few of them made their mark, denting the enemy BattleMech’s armour and undoubtedly drawing the attention of the warrior within.
Only lightly damaged, the Pinion pushed forwards along with the rest of its Star. Other long range weapons began to hit the Falcon 'Mechs as they advanced, doing little more than scraping armor. For their part, the enemy MechWarriors seemed to be undeterred by the obviously superior foes that they were facing.
This should have concerned Kirsten, but instead she was eager for the fight. Her Ebon Jaguar surged forwards, closing the distance to its prey. Switching weapons, she instead let fly with its twin particle cannons, unleashing a pair of searing blue bolts of artificial lightning on the enemy 'Mech, with the wave of waste heat immediately reminding her of just how powerful the weapons were. Both of them struck home, spearing into the Pinion’s left side. The boxy 'Mech reeled, but managed to remain standing under the assault.
Keeping up its own advance, the Pinion returned fire, the searing beam of its heavy laser going well wide of her 'Mech. “Brave, but not terribly good,” she snorted as she and her opponent continued to close the distance. They have to know that they are completely outmatched, she considered. But they do not want to admit it.
She closed down the distance with the Pinion, again opening fire with her particle cannons. One of them finished off the work of the first volley, shredding the Jade Falcon BattleMech’s arm. The second speared into its chest, this time causing it to stagger but not fall in in spite of all the damage it had suffered. Instead, it fired back with its heavy laser in an act of stubborn defiance. This time the shot struck home, melting through the armour on Kirsten’s arm.
A quick glance at her damage display told her that the limb had held under the assault, while the rest of her 'Mech was pristine. Status boards told her similar information about the rest of her unit; they had some armor damage, but that was it. A glance around the battlefield told her that the Falcons were faring far worse, and yet they also seemed to be refusing to give up.
The Black Hawk next to the Pinion was speared by laser fire, staggering before continuing its advance. A battered Cizin charged towards the Horse lines, trailing black smoke from tear in its side. A Sokar tank was torn apart by an internal explosion, but its Pointmate continued as if nothing had happened. Zara’s Procyons literally hounded a Jaguar, surrounding the quad 'Mech and pouring weapons fire into it while doing their best to evade its response.
We need to end this, she considered. Throwing caution to the wind, she opened fire with her Ebon Jaguar’s entire arsenal, ignoring the heat as it battered her in the cockpit. The two PPCs struck home, smashing through the Pinion’s depleted torso armor, staggering the 'Mech where it stood. Moments later, two flights of missiles finished what they had started, slamming into the enemy BattleMech, exploiting the openings her cannons had made. The Pinion withered under the assault, wavering a moment before crashing to the ground, thick black smoke billowing out of it.
Around her, Kirsten could see the last dying embers of the battle, as her forces snuffed out the remaining Falcon defenders. The battlefield was littered with the wreckage of 'Mechs and combat vehicles, all of which belonged to their fallen foes. It had been less a battle, and more a massacre.
A beep from her communicator caught her attention, indicating an incoming signal from an unidentified source. “This is Star Captain Kirsten Ravenwater, Alpha Galaxy, Clan Hell's Horses,” she all but snapped. “Who is this and what do you want?”
“Th-this is Chief Administrator Angus of New Hampshire City,” the voice on the other end replied, clearly fearful. “We wish to offer our surrender.”
“Surrender after one battle? What are you playing at, freebirth?”
“You have destroyed all our defenders,” he managed. “We want to surrender to prevent any further violence.”
“Then I claim your city for my Clan,” she triumphantly replied.
“You do not understand, Star Captain,” Angus continued, his tone almost apologetic. “We are surrendering the entire world. We have nothing left to defend ourselves with at all.”
So that is why they fought so hard despite being so outmatched, she realized. They were all the Falcons had on the world. She again glanced around the battlefield, seeing the wreckage of the fallen defenders. We won, and yet, I had hoped for more.
-
Guest chapter by Zogster
Wild Horses
Hadfield
Benfled
Jade Falcon Occupation Zone
November, 3151
“This is what they have?” Coulter Murphy asked nobody in particular. His Star advanced down the broad streets of Hadfield, the planetary capital of Benfled, a world in the Jade Falcon Occupation Zone. Down the far end of the boulevard was an open circle, ringed by classical buildings and dominated by the statue of a local figure. But the ordinarily bustling plaza was occupied by an array of light tanks and IFVs, dug in with sandbags and waiting for their advance.
“What were you expecting?” came the reply. A low, gravelly voice originated from one of the Elementals clinging to his Doom Courser’s flank.
“Some sport at least,” he growled. This was Coulter’s first real outing since winning the Doom Courser, his first chance to open it up and see what it was capable of. While he preferred to fight at a distance, he had configured it for the close-in brawling that was all too common in urban battles.
“What are they waiting for?” came the voice of Koji, his second who flanked him in an Ebon Jaguar.
Their answer came soon enough. Buildings all around them burst with automatic weapons fire, as infantry opened fire from concealed positions within. At the same time the distant tanks erupted, sending autocannon shells and missiles streaking at the advancing Clan 'Mechs. They weathered it with ease, only minor damage reports coming from the Star.
“We shall handle this,” the Elemental commander said. His Point dropped off Coulter’s Doom Courser, as did others from the rest of his Star. The battle armour spread out to the surrounding buildings, easily forcing their way inside. Coulter would not have to worry about the infantry any more.
Instead, he focused on the tanks ahead. Letting out a bellowing “Charge!” he pushed his OmniMech’s throttle to its limits. The quad strode ahead, flanked by the other four 'Mechs of the Star. As one they opened fire.
The effects were devastating. His own autocannon rent the side of one tank, leaving it barely functional. Koji’s HAG tore through sandbags as if they were nothing, eroding the hull of a tank that was squatting behind them. The Grand Summoner and Timber Wolf spread missiles and laser fire amongst the vehicles, sowing chaos and destruction. The Mad Dog Mk IV clipped the towering statue with its autocannon fire, sending it toppling down onto a dug-in tank.
“Ugly thing,” Coulter remarked, eliciting a round of chuckles from his Star.
They pressed forward, weathering the much thinner fire. Coulter focused on a Sokar IFV that was rapidly backpedalling from its ruined fortifications. The tank sprayed his imposing OmniMech with light Gauss fire before firing its paired autocannons. The shots went wide as Coulter pressed his advance. He fired a burst from his gargantuan autocannon, sending clusters of shot across the light vehicle and into the columned facade of the building it had backed up against. The sandstone columns shattered, dropping the overhanging roof onto the back of the tank.
“This place was settled in the Age of War,” remarked Delilah as her Mad Dog finished off the Sokar.
“So?” Coulter asked.
“So that building could have been five hundred years old.”
“Then it was due for renovations.”
Another round of chuckles came up from the Star. Coulter paused to assess the carnage around them. The paramilitary forces had been wiped out, with little left but the broken hulls of tanks scattered around them. His own troops had suffered minimal damage despite charging headlong into their fire.
It was good to get out and stretch his legs, metaphorically speaking. For too long the Hell’s Horses had been stagnant, sitting and waiting. And while it wasn’t the greatest of battles, it had whetted his appetite for more.
“Contacts,” came the report from Delilah, bringing him back to the battlefield.
“Report,” he snapped.
“We have a group assembling on the next block,” Koji replied.
“Then we go to them,” Coulter declared. “Scott, Zhang, with me.”
Coulter fired up the Doom Courser’s jump jets, while the Grand Summoner and Timber Wolf alongside him did the same. As his bulky OmniMech soared above the streets, he tucked its legs in under its body to clear a gleaming glass tower. The three 'Mechs descended rapidly into the steel canyon beyond. A handful of light tanks were caught by surprise, with foot soldiers scattering around them. His Starmates opened fire as they descended, tearing up the street with missile and laser fire and scattering the bodies of infantrymen to the winds.
Coulter let his quad 'Mech land right in front of a light tank before shredding it utterly with a blast from his titanic autocannon.
“More rabble,” Zhang reported as her Timber Wolf bore down on a Vedette tank. It rapidly backpedalled away from her laser fire, which only served to tear up the street some more.
Coulter only grunted in return. Agile as his 'Mech was, the close quarters limited his manoeuvrability. To his side, a Point of infantry opened up from the upper levels of a residential tower. He could see them poking out from the greenery that wound around the building, armed with nothing but simple rifles. Their small arms fire pinged ineffectually off his OmniMech’s thick armour. For now, he could ignore them.
With his two Starmates behind him, Coulter advanced down the city street. A boxy Ku IFV trundled up to his 'Mech with unwarranted bravery, with more infantry firing from cover behind it. It fired the full force of its weaponry, sending laser pulses and hypervelocity metal shreds into the front of his 'Mech. Coulter laughed out loud in reply. “Bold! I like it!” he declared to the busy street over his 'Mech’s speakers. His eager grin turned to a snarl as he returned fire, lasers tearing across shredding the oversized wheels on one side. The other side ground ineffectively against the street as it desperately tried to reverse. Coulter advanced his Doom Courser, looming over the crippled vehicle. “Where is your bravery now?” he asked over the loudspeakers. In lieu of an answer he opened fire, tearing into the vehicle’s front and leaving it as smoking wreckage.
He took a moment to check behind him. Scott’s Grand Summoner brought down a buzzing VTOL with deadly accurate laser fire, while Zhang laid into the foot troopers around them with machine gun fire. Satisfied, Coulter turned back to the scattered forces ahead of him. “And now you,” he said, thumbing the firing stud for his lasers. Brilliant pulses scattered across the assembled troops in front of him, sowing chaos and disarray more than inflicting harm.
The infantry, however, did not last long. More fire came from the sides of the street, as Elementals emerged from the buildings on either side. They advanced firing anti-personnel gauss rifles, sweeping the street with supersonic metal slugs. The infantry were cut down left and right, falling to a man.
“Glad you left some for us, Star Captain,” came the low growl from the Elementals' commander.
“Try and keep up next time,” Coulter replied with a chuckle.
Time to deal with the annoyances. Coulter easily maneuvered his Doom Courser through the broken streets, its four legs navigating the strewn rubble with ease despite its massive bulk. Small arms fire continued to splash across its flank as he backed up to the green-garnished tower. He kicked up with his 'Mech’s hind legs, rearing the gargantuan machine forwards before lashing out backwards. Both hind legs smashed through the building’s structure. He trotted forwards, watching with relish as the tower collapsed in on itself. It rapidly disappeared into a growing cloud of dust and debris, burying his attackers.
“Impressive,” came the Elemental’s low voice.
“And it opens up new avenues for us.” He turned his Doom Courser around to stride through the rubble. “Come. Let’s see if there’s anything left to fight. I’m not ready to stop now.”
-
Guest chapter by Zogster
From the personal journal of Lana Kotovski
I write this as the Ur is speeding away from our brief but very informative visit to Alyina. The situation had changed while our newfound employers were on their way to Galatea, and by the time we had arrived in system there was a contract waiting for us. We set down just long enough to refuel and negotiate our contract before heading off again.
Our objective is the planet Esteros, up until recently a part of the Jade Falcon Occupation Zone. The Falcons had mining operations there, extracting resources to use in their BattleMech manufacturing, but once they departed the planet, those operations were overrun by local warlords. The AML is relying heavily on its BattleMech manufacturing for trade. And the rare earths and radioactives provided by the mine on Esteros are a vital part of this manufacturing process.
It’s a simple assignment to retake the mine and re-establish supply.
Our limited time on Alyina was enlightening. Antonin’s initial assessment was correct, but it goes far beyond what he expected. The Alyina Mercantile League still incorporates a number of former Jade Falcon worlds. We’re already pouring over the maps we were provided to figure out just how much they encompass.
They operate under Clan structures, but with the merchant caste calling the shots. That is I imagine as much to do with the prior power held by the Jade Falcon’s merchants as the complete abandonment of their warrior class. It’s a huge change for such a rigid society, and I imagine it will only change further over time. The last thing I imagine a newly empowered merchant caste will want is to cede power to a resurgent warrior caste, so they are likely to rely on mercenaries rather than raising their own armies for a while. At the same time, I it is possible that this will lead to further power sharing with the other civilian castes, and a more egalitarian society overall.
Well, I’m getting ahead of myself. But I can hope.
Jakub was right as well, but more than we could have hoped for. Alinya is a massive BattleMech manufacturing centre producing a wide range modern Clan-spec OmniMechs. They seem to have maintained their entire manufacturing capabilities despite the change in leadership. It seems the Falcons’ haste to leave was to our gain.
As part of our contract, we were able to negotiate for newly manufactured materiel as part of our payment, as well as options to purchase more. I’m already drawing up plans for upgrades and expansions to the unit once the campaign is completed. I know not to count my chickens, but I have a good feeling about this.
While we don’t have solid numbers on opposition, we believe they’re not as well equipped as the Star. We have maps of the mine and the surrounding areas, and are already drawing up plans for deployment. At the same time, our units are being repainted in local camouflage based on the purple plant life. We’re ready for this.
I find these times to be the most peaceful. When I know what’s ahead and have a good plan in place. It won’t be long before we’re in orbit over Esteros, ready to drop. But now’s the time to sit back and look to the future. I like what I see.
-
Guest chapter by KayEmm
Red Hills
Surviving the reception ball had been just the start for Kaitlyn Farris. Now the real battle was about to begin.
Meeting with Graf Kayserling and his officers had made it clear that the mercenaries hired by their rivals were the main threat. While representing only a small portion of their overall forces, the mercenaries were still better equipped, more mobile and more experienced than the conventional forces fielded by either side. Eliminating them would remove a significant portion of the enemy’s capability.
In the three weeks since their arrival, the mercenaries, identified as the Screaming Demons, had been ranging across the Fulda Badlands, raiding a variety of targets. The suspicion was that they were probing Kayserling defences, testing their strength and looking or an avenue or a larger assault. She also had no doubt that the Demons would be aware of her arrival, given how much of a show it had become.
From the intelligence she’d been provided from their employers, Kaitlyn Farris had reached the conclusion that the Fulda Badlands were a good place for an enemy force to hide out. The region was already a natural battleground, with rough hills, rocky outcroppings and ample valleys giving a unit plenty of cover. Centuries of human settlement had only added to that, with the region turning into a mass of mines, both active and played out, as well as supporting settlements and infrastructure. Beyond just the visual cover, the combination of minerals in the ground and mining equipment meant that MAD scans would be useless. No doubt the mercenaries also would have patrols or pickets to warn them of any scouts trying to hunt them down.
However, Kaitlyn had other resources at her disposal.
She had been introduced to Anton Yamashita through Iulia, who had sold her on his skills as a scout. Forgoing any advanced equipment, he usually travelled with nothing more than his supplies, an old hunting rifle and a communicator. So far, he had surpassed her expectations. This time proved to be no exception.
Anton had tracked the mercenaries down to a ghost town in the badlands. It made a lot of sense; the town gave them cover and a place to store their supplies, and was in a nicely defensible location. However, Anton had managed to find them a path that would cover their approach and leave the mercenaries with little warning of what was to come. An overnight dust storm had played well to their advantage, helping to further conceal them from detection.
Seated in the cockpit of her BattleMech, Kait checked over her tactical map, showing the positions of her unit in their approach to the ghost town. They had advanced overnight, so far apparently remaining undetected in their approach. Everyone’s in place, she considered. Time to go. She opened a command channel. “Knight Lead to Knight Flight. You are go.”
A minute later, the predawn silence was broken as a pair of aerospace fighters roared overhead. Releasing their payloads, they pulled away before two brilliant fireballs erupted from in among the town.
Got them, she considered. “All units, this is Knight Lead. Go!”
She pushed her Warhammer IIC forwards, advancing on the town and the enemy forces waiting within it. Other BattleMechs moved with her, both on foot and soaring through the air on their jump jets. Below, her display showed thermal blooms as reactors came on-line, the mercenaries reacting to the attack. Even as they did, shots rained down from the Iron Knights onto their forces.
One of them was already on the move; her system tagging it as a light SRM carrier. Without a moment’s hesitation, she lined it up in her crosshairs, the reticule flashing gold to indicate it was in range. She squeezed the trigger, a pair of brilliant blue bolts leaping out from the PPCs before smashing into the vehicle’s side.
The two shots rocked the vehicle, smashing through its side armour. Then, a moment later, the vehicle exploded, a brilliant fireball lighting up the darkness around it. That’s a lot bigger than it should be, she considered. “Enemy forces could be packing infernos,” she quickly concluded, calling out over the tactical network. That was a big risk, both to her men and the enemy, especially in among a collection of old, dry, wooden buildings.
While they had been caught flat-footed, the enemy were quickly regaining their composition. A flight of long-range missiles peppered Kait’s Warhammer IIC, battering the armour but doing little actual real damage. More shots went off around her, the enemy fire more opportunistic and hurried than anything coordinated as they tried to respond to the unexpected assault.
Leon’s Phoenix Hawk soared past her, returning fire at a mercenary Exhumer as it did. Shots scarred the broad BattleMech, staggering it but not taking it down. Several other 'Mechs joined it, followed by a lance of hovercraft pushing down from the hills. Long-range missiles backed them up, soaring over the ridge to pummel enemy targets.
Not that the enemy force were all just standing there and taking fire, however. One of the enemy 'Mechs pushed forward towards her, spitting PPC and autocannon shells as it did. Her 'Mech rocked as several shells slammed into the torso, failing to penetrate the thick armour. A second flight of long-range missiles joined them, most of which simply scattered around her to little effect.
She spotted the source of the attack; a dome-headed Koschei in among the buildings. She quickly pushed the Warhammer forwards, turning and opening fire on the mercenary 'Mech. A wave of heat washed into the cockpit as both PPCs fired again, unleashing twin bolts of artificial lightning. One of them smashed into its side, staggering it but not yet dropping it. The other went wide, reducing one of the buildings to splinters.
The enemy 'Mech followed her, its weapons again opening up on her as it turned to keep her in its sights. A PPC shot scored more armour off her side, while more autocannon shots rocked the Warhammer. Moments later, another flight of LRMs, followed by a PPC shot peppered her armour. Kait took a glance at the tac display, trying to find the Koschei’s ally. A Zeus briefly flashed up on her display, the 'Mech hanging back from the rest of the battle.
Don’t want to get bracketed in here.
She opened fire again, this time adding her pulse lasers to the mix while ignoring the heat rushing into the cockpit. Once again, one of the PPCs went wide, while the other made its mark on the enemy BattleMech’s barrel-like arm. Before it could retaliate, she fired her jump jets, taking to the air, twisting to keep the enemy 'Mech in her sights as she did.
The Koschei’s MechWarrior clearly wasn’t ready for this and was left flat-footed by her move. The Zeus was likewise caught out, not moving from its dug in-position. As she came down, Kait fired again, quickly swapping her weapons around as she fought with the heat that continued to batter her.
Only one of her PPCs fired this time, but it clearly made its mark. As the enemy 'Mech staggered under the impact, her lasers followed through, slicing into the exposed flank and the vulnerable equipment within. Her short-range missiles added to the damage, detonating within its body. They must have struck something, as the barrel-like arm tore itself apart, along with the autocannon contained within. Direfully wounded, the Koschei staggered drunkenly, only just managing to keep its footing.
Kait had no time to celebrate, as a warning alarm filled her ears. She twisted the Warhammer around to face the Zeus as it levelled its weapons at her. However, before the enemy 'Mech could act, a brilliant PPC bolt went straight through the cockpit of the Zeus. Decapitated, the assault 'Mech stood there, as if stunned. Then, deprived of control from its human pilot, it simply collapsed.
“Enemy commander down,” Iulia’s voice crackled over the communicator.
“Nice shooting,” Kait replied.
The wounded Koschei staggered back, trying to keep its gutted flank out of Kait’s line of fire. Around it, other BattleMechs were joining it, trying to pull away from the Iron Knights’ advance. They were still firing at her forces, but their shots were more about covering themselves and discouraging pursuit. As they pulled back, a flight of long range missiles scattered around the town, creating clouds of thick smoke to cover their withdrawal.
“Should we pursue?” Leon’s voice came over the communicator.
“Shadow them, but don’t engage unless they do,” Kait suggested. “Make sure they’re not just trying to fake us out.” She glanced around the town, noting several disabled 'Mechs and wrecked vehicles. “But I think they’re done.”
-
Guest chapter by KayEmm
From the personal journal of Kaitlyn Farris
Our first clash with the Screaming Demons worked out well for us. We ambushed them at their staging ground, catching them flat-footed before they were even aware of what had happened. By the time they had pulled themselves together, we were already all over them. After a brief battle, they decided to pull back after Iulia killed their commander (as she does).
Once they were clear we secured the site. Overall, three of our 'Mechs were disabled, but they can all be easily be repaired and put back into the field. We also lost four hovers that were crippled, but again they are all repairable. Our personnel losses were limited largely to light injuries to crews, all of which will be back in action soon enough. Really, the biggest problem was Buster [EDITOR'S NOTE: Captain Buster Snegwort] complaining about the damage his vehicles took, which is pretty normal for him anyway.
The Screaming Demons came off a lot worse for it. They lost six 'Mechs and seven vehicles, and abandoned all of them on the field when they withdrew. They left behind a considerable amount of supplies and ammunition as well; curiously enough, our techs have been going over what they found, and a lot of it was apparently brand new material, imported from off-world. It could be worth finding out where the Demons were getting their supplies from.
Finally, even though we killed their leader, we still took several prisoners who were left behind during the retreat. From what we got out of them, we rather effectively decapitated the Demons and left them with no clear line of succession. Between the losses they suffered and the lack of leadership, the Demons seem to be spent as a force. We’re assuming they’re going to try and hook up with the rest of Sigonella’s forces, so it’ll probably be a case of watch and wait.
Speaking of, we reported our success to Graf Kayserling. To say that he’s delighted with the result is an understatement. Now they’re pushing for a major assault into Sigonella’s holdings now that they’ve lost their most powerful force. And, just as Leon predicted, he’s suggesting that I should work closely with Captain Johan Kayserling, who in addition to being an officer in their forces just happens to be one of his sons who also just happens to be unmarried so far.
Strange how that works.
-
Guest chapter by KayEmm
Kayserling forces continue advance
Dateline Viencia
The offensive by forces loyal to Graf Leonhard Kayserling continued, making significant advances. In the last seventy two hours, the towns of Viencia, Wien and Dieppe were liberated from rebel control, falling in the face of their daring counteroffensive led by Captain Johan Kayserling.
The loyalist forces crossed the Po river and launched swift attacks against the rebel forces. The daring action was spearheaded by Captain Kayserling, who lead the offensive from his BattleMech. His lance used their mobility to cross the river and outflank their enemies, sowing chaos among the rebel formation. This created an opening for the First Kayserling Armoured Guards to seize several key river crossings and launch their main offensive.
Surprised by the swift action, and unable to mount an effective defence, the rebel forces withdrew, retreating back to the town of Viencia in an effort to regroup. Despite this effort, they were soundly defeated and driven into a rout, abandoning the town. As the loyalist forces advanced, they pushed token garrisons out of Wien and Dieppe, recapturing both towns. While full figures are not yet available, it is apparent that the rebel forces have suffered substantial losses in their retreat.
In a statement, Graf Kayserling praised the valiant actions of the loyalist forces, while expressing regret at the lives lost on both sides of the conflict. He implored Baroness Sigonella to stand down her forces to prevent further needless loss of life. “We are, after all, one world,” he stated. “And while we fight among ourselves, the Jade Falcons and other threats are still looming around us. We cannot protect our world against them while we remain divided.”
-
Guest chapter by KayEmm
From the personal journal of Lewis Guise
Just when I thought I’d gotten everything under control, it got worse.
While the Sigonella job looked like a plum contract, we were blindsided when Kayserling hired his own mercs. When they arrived, we figured they’d be sent after us first, since we were her best asset. And yet, that moron Russel still managed to be caught flat-footed by them somehow. We were ambushed and suffered severe losses, including Russel himself. I can still his headless Zeus lying there on the ground next to me. His mistakes cost us nearly everything.
I was able to pull together what was left and organize a tactical withdrawal. Marko and Greene both recognized my skills and got behind me, and supported my taking control of the unit. We pulled back to Sigonella’s heartland to reorganize and take stock. The Baroness was furious at us for abandoning her front line and wanted to send us straight back down there, but I sat her down and explained the situation to her. Eventually she saw reason.
That bought us a few days to get things organised, but next thing I knew the old harpy was screaming at us again. Her forces were falling back after losing several towns and a vital river crossing, and it’s clear that she’s losing bad. This big push is being led by the same mercenaries that crushed us, and they’re doing a real number on her forces.
She wants us to go stop them, but I know how that’s going to end up for us. We’re now outnumbered, and I figure those mercs are not going to give us any mercy. I’m open to negotiating, but their commander has to know how badly he has us by now. If I was him, I’d demand whatever I wanted from us as condition of our surrender, and know that we were willing to pay it rather than risk being wiped out.
So I’m going to get us out of here. Our JumpShip’s not due back for another couple of months, but fortunately we’ve got options. We can withdraw back to Alwaid and take ourselves out of the conflict. We could hire ourselves out to one of the local warlords to bolster their forces. Or we could even find our own slice of paradise and set ourselves up. Either way, it’s going to be a better option than following Sigonella’s orders.
I worked hard to get to the top of this unit. I’m not going to throw it all away now.
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Guest chapter by KayEmm
Counteroffer
Baroness Giana Sigonella: Major Farris, it is good of you to meet with me on such short notice.
Major Kaitlyn Farris: You contacted me with an offer to parlay. As such, I am here on behalf of both my employer and my unit.
Sigonella: Your employer, of course.
Farris: What was it you wanted then?
Sigonella: I will be blunt and honest with you, Major Farris. I am well aware of how the situation has developed, and will not attempt to hide it. Your employer has made several key breakthroughs, and my forces are in retreat. Furthermore, your own unit has dealt my mercenaries such a severe blow that they simply deserted rather than attempting to retreat. My only surprise there is that it took them this long to run off.
Farris: So you want to open negotiations for a cease-fire or surrender then.
Sigonella: You misunderstand me, Major. I did not get to where I am today by surrendering at the first sign of trouble.
Farris: So what did you want then?
Sigonella: It’s no secret that your unit has been key to Graf Kayserling’s success, despite his efforts to put his idiot son front and centre of their propaganda. I’ve met the man; he can barely walk a BattleMech in a straight line let alone lead a force into battle. I am well aware that your unit led the Po River offensive while Kayserling’s men took all the glory.
Farris: Did you ask me here just to flatter me?
Sigonella: Simply put, I want to hire you.
Farris: I see.
Sigonella: I will gladly pay you above whatever Graf Kayserling offered you. Furthermore, I will also give you the payment and supplies I had intended for Major Russel’s band. Combined with the salvage that you took from them already, you would be effectively double-dipping at my expense.
Farris: In short, you want me to betray my employer.
Sigonella: It would be beneficial to you, after all. You’d already have whatever advance my rival has offered you on top of what I am offering. Furthermore, since you have worked with them so far, you would have insider information about their forces that would aid you in your operations against them.
Farris: With all due respect, Baroness Sigonella, I am going to refuse your offer. I don’t know what sort of mercenaries you were used to dealing with in past, but I am not going to turn on an employer who has treated my unit fairly and with respect just because you wave more money at me.
Sigonella: [sighs] I suspected that would be your answer, but I had to try no less. You are a sight more professional than Major Russel was, and I both respect and rue that dedication.
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Guest chapter by KayEmm
From the personal journal of Kaitlyn Farris
It’s over. Well, at least this phase of our contract is.
Under our lead, the First Kayserling had advanced deep into Sigonella’s territory. With the Screaming Demons out of the picture, her forces were not able to mount any sort of offensive action, and were substantially outmatched by the Iron Knights. They’ve been on the retreat for the last week, only just stopping short of turning it into a full panicked rout. Not only have they abandoned territory, but they’ve also given up supplies and ammunition in their hurry to withdraw.
We’d reached the outskirts of Palmero, a major city that was also the seat of Sigonella’s power when she contacted us again. This time, rather than trying to buy me off, she was looking to open negotiations with Graf Kayserling using me as a relatively neutral third party. It worked, because he was very much willing to talk. Honestly, while Sigonella’s rebellion was an affront to his authority, it does feel like he was more concerned about loss of life and Esteros as a whole than his own personal power.
Its early days yet, but so far we have a cease-fire that is holding. What it looks like will be the likely outcome is that both Kayserling and Sigonella will merge their personal forces into a unified planetary defence force, something that Esteros has so far lacked (though Sigonella gets to keep control of a lance of family heirloom BattleMechs, of course). For her part, Sigonella is unlikely to get more than a token slap on the wrist and retain her title and position.
Kayserling will no doubt make some statement about restoring unity, healing and so on, while trying to focus attention on external threats.
Which will be the next part of our contract. While we’ve ended the civil war on Alkahera, we now have Alwaid to deal with. That’s far more of a mess; the Falcons’ departure left behind a power vacuum and now there’s no central authority at all. The biggest threat is one warlord who’s been making a lot of progress while everyone’s been more focused on the fighting over here, but that’s not all we’ll need to deal with.
Added to that, we have another loose end to tie up. Baroness Sigonella made it clear that the Screaming Demons had deserted her forces after we defeated them, but so far they’re unaccounted for. We know they haven’t jumped out of the system, which means that they are still somewhere on-world.
Finally, on a more personal front, I have another issue to deal with. We worked with Johan Kayserling, the Graf’s youngest son during the campaign (the oldest is an LCAF officer, and the second is a corporate bigshot on Donegal). He’s an officer in the Graf’s forces due to his position rather than any skill; likewise, he’s a MechWarrior, piloting a BattleMech that has been in the family for a couple of centuries. Unfortunately, he’s only mediocre at best, the result of being surrounded by yes-men and getting by on his noble rank.
Leon and I did our best to try to help him and teach him a few things, and to his credit, he did seem to be willing to listen to us. However, it seems that as a by-product of that education he’s now somewhat smitten with me, which is going to make things awkward to say the least. And the worst part is that I feel like his parents are actively encouraging him.
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Guest chapter by KayEmm
Dimitri Mandragov, the Warlord of Esteros
Dimitri Mandragov’s rise to power had an inauspicious start. In 3142, he was an officer in the LCAF and a part of the forces assigned to protect Esteros and its mineral assets. The unit was functionally destroyed during the Jade Falcon invasion of the world, leaving an injured Anton Mandragov as one of the few survivors. Having managed to conspicuously escape the fate of his colleagues, he went underground, both metaphorically and literally.
Operating out of a series of abandoned mines across the world’s Alwaid continent, Mandragov formed a resistance cell from a combination of survivors from the local noble forces and civilians opposed to Jade Falcon rule. For the next eight years they engaged in terrorist operations across the continent, chiefly bombings and sabotage, which usually ended up killing more civilians than members of the Jade Falcon paramilitary forces or administration. Nonetheless, he was able to attract a core of loyal followers to his side who also wanted to bring an end to the Jade Falcon rule.
Mandragov’s greatest break would not be of his own making; rather, in late 3150, the Jade Falcons simply pulled all their forces from the world, leaving behind a small police and administrative force. While not knowing the reasons for this move, he none the less saw the opportunity and took it. After two months of quietly building up his forces, he launched an attack on Tirana, the regional capitol in April of 3151. Caught off-guard and overwhelmed, the Falcon authorities were captured and subsequently executed by Mandragov’s forces.
Having seized the city, his army quickly swelled with eager followers. They seized the Falcon armouries, equipping themselves with an assortment of weapons and equipment that had been, in turn, taken from the planetary house guards during the invasion. No longer needing to operate covertly, Mandragov’s army moved openly against other Clan-held targets, taking three cities within the next two months. Along the way, he continued to expand his army through a combination of popular recruitment and conscription.
In June of 3151, Mandragov was formally contacted by the Esteros Assembly, who offered him an opportunity to join with them and reunify the planet. He flatly refused their request, claiming that he was not going to be beholden to a ‘band of parasitic nobles’. Seeing an opportunity, Mandragov turned this moment into a propaganda coup, painting himself as standing up for average people and freeing them from the nobles that had controlled their lives for centuries. This played well to much of the populace, who had spent years under Falcon control while their supposedly rightful rulers had done nothing to help them.
At the end of the month, Mandragov made contact with the Mikros Collective, an alliance of mining settlements that had also freed themselves from Falcon control. The Collective flatly rejected his offer of an alliance, claiming that they would rather stand on their own. Mandragov’s response was to mobilise his own forces and take the Collective’s territories, using superior numbers and equipment to quickly crush the local defenders. The Collective’s surviving leaders were quickly rounded up and executed.
The next two months would see a similar pattern as Mandragov’s forces moved to extend his control over the centre of the continent. As he did, his forces continued to grow, and not just through salvage and conscription. Mandragov had begun his campaign with a mixture of light and medium tanks, conventional infantry and a few converted IndustrialMechs; by the middle of the year, his forces had expanded and now included BattleMechs and VTOLs that had clearly been supplied from off-world. While the source of these weapons was unclear, they greatly expanded the capabilities of his forces, allowing him to further accelerate his campaign.
By the end of the year, Mandragov controlled most of the central part of Alwaid. After he crushed two other would-be warlords and forcibly incorporated their forces into his own, the other groups chose to keep away from his territories and give him a free reign to do what he pleased. With the planetary government distracted by its own civil war, and no other force on Alwaid able to stand up to him, Mandragov appeared to be unstoppable. However, that was all about to change.
- From Warlords of the 32nd Century, Galatea Free Press
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Guest chapter by KayEmm
The Battle of Port Alouis
Before the Jade Falcon invasion of Esteros, Port Alouis had been the major shipping port on Alwaid and served as a hub for vessels travelling to the rest of the planet. This made it largely redundant to the Falcons’ needs, as the Clan simply focused their effort on the one continent to extract the resources they sought. As a result, the port was effectively shut down. Any vessels docked at the time were impounded, while the majority of the workforce were relocated to other industries. The Clan paramilitary force present was largely focused on stopping smuggling and ensuring that no vessels went in or out; however, some evidence suggested that there was also collusion between the Port Alouis authorities and elements within the Free Guilds.
Following the withdrawal of the Jade Falcon forces in late 3150, the Paramilitary forces simply stayed in place while awaiting further orders. As news spread of Dimitri Mandragov’s uprising, the remaining residents and workers of Port Alouis made plans to take advantage of the situation. With their leadership missing, the Paramilitary force was thrown into disarray and were swiftly removed by the locals, who had armed themselves with cached weapons. Port Alouis was declared a free city, under the control of the Port Alouis Workers Party, led by Horace Henderson.
As a part of the plan to reunify Esteros, Port Alouis was seen as a key objective. Not only would capturing it serve as a useful beachhead given both its docks and landing facilities, but it would also enable the reopening of trade. Major Kaitlyn Farris made it her first objective, landing her forces on the highway outside of the city and marching on it. They were met by members of the Workers Party, who sought to open negotiations. Given that they were equipped only with small arms, light APCs and a few IndustrialMechs, the Workers Party knew that they stood no chance against a mercenary battalion.
While openly friendly, Henderson had private reservations about the situation. While his chief concern was that his holdings would lose their autonomy, there were other factors at play. For years he had been running a smuggling operations, trading weapons for narcotics and other contraband. While he had been able to keep this a secret from the Falcon paramilitary forces, he now feared that reunification would bring his activities to light.
Henderson invited Major Farris and her command staff to meet him in order to negotiate terms. Secretly, he had forces loyal to him personally positioned to take them hostage. Confident that he had the upper hand, he ordered his men to attack. Instead, Major Farris proved to be ready for him, and Henderson found his forces surrounded by the Iron Knights’ battle armor units. Realizing that he was outmatched, he chose to quietly surrender.
Following the failed attack, Henderson was arrested, with Amira Chen becoming the new leader of the Workers Party. Rather than further escalate the situation, she chose to peacefully negotiate with Major Farris on behalf of the Workers Party.
- From Esteros Burning, Galatea Free Press
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Guest chapter by KayEmm
LIC Surveillance Log 546-214A
Major Kaitlyn Farris: So tell me what we’re dealing with here. Is Mandragov’s army as big as it looks?
Lieutenant Leon Mackinaw: Yes and no. The bad news is that his army is indeed that big, and nobody seems to know how it got that way.
Farris: What do you mean?
Mackinaw: Simply put, the amount of equipment he has far exceeds the amount that should have been available to him. Between the Falcon invasion, the occupation and everything else, he should have one, maybe two battalions of light and medium tanks and some Industrial MODs at best.
Farris: But that’s not what he has, is it?
Mackinaw: No. Current estimates are the he fields over a regiment of tanks and at least a battalion of BattleMechs, many of which are recent designs. On top of that, he has an estimated three regiments of conventional infantry. Finally, he’s been scraping together ‘auxiliary’ forces made up of MilitaMechs and even modified Industrials.
Farris: I see what you mean. Any ideas where any of that came from? There shouldn’t be any BattleMechs at all here save for us.
Mackinaw: No, and that’s the worrying part. It seems that his army underwent an explosive growth around the middle of last year.
Captain Iulia Dragan: I could try to seek their origin. Maybe something will reveal itself.
Farris: Please. [pause] So Leon, you said yes and no. Please tell me there’s some good in this.
Mackinaw: Mandragov’s got no real long-range mobility for his forces; no DropShips or bulk air transport or the like. He can relocate elements, but that’s about it. The result of which is that he can’t mass his army in one place.
Farris: So he’s divided it to try to cover as much as he can.
Mackinaw: Exactly. He has three major operational groups; each one consists of a battalion of tanks and a company of ’Mechs, plus infantry support. Individually, those forces are still more than a match for any of the other warlords, but would be closer to an even footing for us.
Farris: So if we could take them down piecemeal, then we can wear him down.
Mackinaw: Assuming that he doesn’t try to consolidate his forces, yes. Plus there’s also issues of the quality of his forces he has to deal with.
Farris: I’ll take anything good here.
Mackinaw: Despite the size of his army, he’s deficient in the quality of his troops. Most of his MechWarriors and tank crews don’t have any professional training, and usually rely on weight of numbers against largely inferior opponents. They also lack individual initiative, with his forces having a very top-down structure. That doesn’t discount the possibility that he may have some mercenary officers in among his ranks, however.
Farris: Very useful to know.
Mackinaw: His infantry forces are also relatively weak. Many of them are poorly trained conscripts with little mobility, and their equipment is more of whatever they can get their hands on. Finally, he doesn’t have any aerospace fighters or battle armor, which will help us a lot.
Farris: Definitely.
Mackinaw: That being said, he also has a personal guard unit made up of a company of ’Mechs with some tanks and infantry in support. They’re the best trained and best equipped of them, and they’re mostly loyal to him personally.
Farris: Of course. But it’s a start. [pause] Iulia, do you have any thoughts?
Dragan: Hm... [sound of shuffling paper] He is a survivor. He lived when many others died. But... I think that is not a strength, but more him throwing others in his way. He feeds off their strength, their deaths sustain him.
Farris: Can you use that?
Dragan: He has chosen a dangerous path. If I am right, then it will be his downfall.
Farris: I’ll take that as a yes.
-
Guest chapter by KayEmm
Preah Khan
While Dimitri Mandragov was the most infamous of the Esteros warlords, he was not the only one by any stretch. The combination of a power vacuum and a sudden influx of weaponry saw a number of others rise to take whatever power they could.
Preah Khan was one such example. A mining shift supervisor before the invasion, he was effectively pressed into Jade Falcon service after their conquest of the world. For nearly a decade he worked for the Clan, operating MiningMechs in various locations across the continent. During that time, he used his charisma and position as a shift supervisor to build up a number of allies, both within the mining teams he worked for as well as more criminal elements.
The sudden collapse of Clan authority across the continent gave him an opportunity. Arming his men with weapons provided by his contacts in Port Alouis, he sized control of the Mont Sazabo mine complex. His forces captured and executed the remaining Clan administrators while facing little actual resistance. This gave him a base from which he expanded his forces, arming them with modified IndustrialMechs and other mining vehicles.
With reports reaching him of a growing power vacuum across the continent, Khan chose to expand his reach. His forces moved south and entered the city of Metz, quickly defeating the remaining paramilitary forces. The city’s people hailed him as a hero, but that adoration quickly turned to fear when he announced that he was seizing it for himself. With no forces left to resist him, the city’s leaders were forced to surrender. Khan's forces imposed their own brand of order, engaging in widespread looting while executing anyone who tried to oppose them.
Emboldened by his success, Khan continued his advance. After conscripting new recruits from Metz into what he was now calling the Killer Khans, he took control of a number of smaller settlements in the region, extending his reach all the way to Port Alouis. However, he chose not to attack the port city due to the role it was playing in supplying both his own forces and his personal vices; any such attack risked disrupting that flow.
Instead, he swung west and pushed towards the city of Narborne. Along the way, the Killer Khans encountered only sporadic resistance from ad hoc militias and local police units that did little to slow his forces. Narbourne offered only limited resistance as well. While the populace had stockpiled weapons, they still had little chance of slowing down a force spearheaded by armed IndustrialMechs. The city fell, and was subjected to the same heavy-handed rule as Metz.
While he had now controlled a rough triangle of territory, Khan quickly found that he was out of room to expand. To the west he was limited by the coast, but it was to the east that he found his greatest obstacle. Any moves to extend his reach would bring him into conflict with Dimitri Mandragov’s army, a force that massively outnumbered his. Instead, Preah Khan chose to consolidate his control over his existing territories while also looking for other ways to extend his reach.
- From Warlords of the 32nd Century, Galatea Free Press
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Guest chapter by KayEmm
Living the High Life
Clambering down the access ladder from her BattleMech, Kaitlyn Farris couldn’t help but take in the view before her. The manor had once been grand, no doubt lavished on by generations of nobles as a way of demonstrating their wealth and power. What she saw as she approached was little more than a shell of that grandeur. The gardens were the first indicator of what had happened, being overgrown and strewn with garbage and debris, some of which had been converted into makeshift barricades. Several derelict vehicles were scattered around them, only adding to the air of desolation.
That air extended to the manor building itself. Its exterior had not only been neglected, being covered in grime and overgrowth from the garden, but actively defaced. Graffiti was splashed across the walls, a variety of colorful designs at odds with the stately home underneath. Many of the windows were smashed, while others were boarded up.
But it was the apparent militarisation of the site that struck her the most. A Griffin stood by the manor, clad in an ugly, patchy brown and tan scheme. A Winterhawk APC lay nearby tangled in among the overgrowth, its side torn open by weapons fire. Several ATV Quads were parked nearby, ready for use by soldiers that had never gotten the chance. Two watch posts had been built on the roof of the manor, while others were scattered around the grounds, while fresh bullet holes had been blasted out of the walls.
And that was before the bodies that were scattered around the manor’s exterior. While they had been covered with sheets, it was impossible for her not to notice them as she approached.
Groups of Iron Knights infantry were engaged in securing and cleaning up the area; some of them were in the process of marching away with groups of enemy soldiers. At a glance, their captives seemed to be as dirty and unkempt as their surroundings.
She entered the building proper, an Iron Knight trooper saluting as she did. The interior of the manor was as she’d expected it to be, dirty and decaying from a decade of neglect. Any furnishings, art or anything else of value had likely been stripped years ago. What remained was makeshift beds, bare mattresses and other crude furniture, alongside graffiti-covered walls and other, less identifiable stains. More of her infantry were in there, engaged in the same sort of clean-up procedures.
One figure dominated the room, a trooper in battle armor that towered over all around it. From the markings on the suit, she could instantly identify who it was. “Captain Khasyanov,” she began with a salute.
“Major Farris,” he replied in kind, his clawed manipulator making for an odd salute.
“At ease,” she nodded. “How did it go?”
The suit looked around before replying. “Flawlessly. Yamashita led us right up to the manor proper without them even knowing we were here. By the time they spotted us, we were on them. There was a short fight and we had to put down the Hover, but that was it.”
“Very good,” she nodded. “And the ’Mech?”
“Didn’t even move,” Khasyanova nodded. “The MechWarrior wasn’t even awake.”
“I’d have thought they would have had someone on standby at least,” she considered. “So what do we have?”
“Besides the captives and a captured Griffin, there’s a stash of small arms and ammunition,” he noted. “And a drug lab in the east wing.”
“Interesting use of an outpost,” she nodded.
“This is no outpost,” Khasyanova countered. “You’re standing in the command headquarters of Preah Khan’s raiders,” he explained.
“It is?” she looked a little confused. “The guy controls two cities. Why would he be hanging out in a dump in the middle of nowhere?”
“You can ask him yourself,” he finished, indicating to another room, one with a soldier standing outside of it. “I was as surprised as you were.”
She stepped into the room in question, finding a single figure waiting. Seated at an old table, his hands cuffed, he did match the intelligence photos of Preah Khan she had been provided with; or at least, he once had. The man seated in the room was wild-eyed, his long hair and thick beard filthy and matted, and was clad in a ragged dressing gown. She didn’t want to know what was underneath that.
“Preah Khan, I presume,” she began as she sat opposite him, the trooper from outside standing behind her.
“Very much so,” he eagerly nodded. “Um, whoever you are.”
“Major Kaitlyn Farris,” she explained. “Commander, Farris Iron Knights. We’re here on behalf of the Esteros Assembly.”
“Well thank god for that,” he all but shouted out. “I humbly surrender to you.”
She frowned a moment. “You seem to be awfully ready to throw yourself on my mercy.”
“Well, you know, you captured me and all that,” he nodded. “So I suppose you’ll ship me back to the capitol for a show trial and stuff.”
“You seem to be very eager.”
“Well, you know,” he glanced nervously around the room. “Jig is up. Game over. I fold. Cash in my chips and go home for the night. Being a warlord was fun and all, but I think I’m ready for a change of career.”
She was beginning to wonder how much of the product from his drug lab had gone straight to him. “I need some information.”
“If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather just save it for the trial,” he grinned. “You know, look good, make it all compelling for the holos. Daring warlord gives up all his secrets and gets a nice, cozy luxury cell for the deal.”
Kaitlyn paused a moment in thought. “I’d love for that to happen, but I can’t guarantee a thing,” she simply stated. “Preah Khan, I am here to bring order to Esteros by any means necessary. And there are parties within the assembly that would see your getting your show trial and prison cell as being... inconvenient.”
“You what?” He blinked.
“Consider this,” she continued. “This facility is under the control of my unit, It would be very easy for us to dispose of an unwanted figure and simply lose the body. With all the losses your troops suffered, what difference would one more make?”
“You wouldn’t...” he trailed off as he nervously looked around.
“But if you were to give up some useful information, I could convince my employers that it would be beneficial to keep you alive,” she explained.
“Well, you know...” Preah Khan nervously jiggled his leg as his eyes continued to dart around. “Yeah, well here’s the thing.”
“Go on.”
“So about a month ago, one of my agents was caught dealing to some of Mandragov’s men,” he explained. “Now Boss Mandragov and I had an arrangement, where my people are free to operate in his turf if I don’t sell to his men. Like, you know, it’s not my fault if he conscripts junkies, right?”
“And Mandragov did not take this well,” Kaitlyn nodded. What little she knew about the warlord suggested that he ruled over his territories and army with an iron fist.
“That would be fair to say,” Khan nodded. “Like, he had my man killed and sent his head back to me, and told me that he was going to gut me and hang me by my own intestines.”
“I see.”
“So you know, I decided that I was going to, you know, run off,” he admitted. “Retreated to this fallback location to lie low and hope that Mandragov didn’t find me.” He glanced nervously over her. “You’re not working for him, are you?”
“You’re alive, so no.”
“No, no, entirely fair,” he held his hands up in front of him.
“So then if you’re here, where’s rest of your army?”
“No idea,” he shrugged. “I kind of took off without really telling them what was going on. Didn’t want to risk security in case they ratted me out to Mandragov.”
“You ruled two cities,” she noted. “Who’s in charge of Narbourne and Metz now?”
“Could be my guys,” he admitted. “Could be Mandragov. Could be anyone, really.”
“I see,” Kaitlyn nodded. “One other question. Where did you get your BattleMechs from?”
“Yeah, well, funny story that,” he admitted.
“I’m listening.”
“A guy rocked up with a DropShip and basically asked me if I wanted to buy some ’Mechs and some other gear,” he explained. “I paid him off in loot from the territories I run. Minerals, gems, stuff I’d stolen from the cities... drugs. Lots of drugs. He seemed happy with that.”
“Did they identify themselves?” She asked. “Were they Clan or Lyrans or what?”
“No idea,” Preah Khan admitted. “But I wasn’t going to ask too hard either. I figured that if I didn’t buy them, then he’d sell them or Mandragov or someone else. So you know, get some ’Mechs or be crushed by them. It was the smart move.”
“I see,” she finished. “Thank you for that. I’ll make arrangements for you.”
“No, thank you,” he nodded. “Thank you for your kindness and generosity and everything. And, if you could please, please, please let your employers know how useful I was, that’d also be great.” The nerves were clear in his voice as he finished, a forced smile on his face.
Kaitlyn stood, heading back outside with the trooper to join Khasyanova. “How did you find him?”
“He was passed out in the master bedroom,” the armored trooper confirmed.
“Surrendered when we pointed our guns at him. The neurohelmet was under the bed. I guess he didn’t want to risk anyone else taking his ’Mech.”
“And your thoughts?” She asked, turning to the soldier who had been with her in the room.
She took of her helmet, shaking out her long, dark hair. “He is genuinely afraid,” Iulia Dragan confirmed. “But he also is telling the truth. I can see it in his heart.”
“So we have an unknown party arming these warlords,” Kaitlyn finished. “This just got a lot more complicated.”
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Guest chapter by KayEmm
From the personal journal of Kaitlyn Farris
After our unexpected capture of Preah Khan, the Iron Knights had continued to push east, advancing through what had previously been his territory. Without their leader, his small army had splintered, with most of them going to ground. His troops in Narbourne had emptied the city’s treasury and fled, their current location unknown. On the other hand, the small group of holdouts in Metz had no idea what was going on or where their leader was, and surrendered after only a short battle.
The main issue both cities are facing is establishing who is in charge now. Preah Khan removed anyone who was even loosely associated with the Falcons, which created something of a power vacuum once his own people were out of the picture. Making matters worse, nobody wants to put their trust in anyone who held any sort of office during the Falcon occupation, which means that anyone with any real experience in running a city is going to be out of the question. I’ve passed all this along to Graf Kayserling, so he’s aware of the situation that he’s going to inherit and, hopefully, can do something about it.
After a week of silence, we made first contact with Mandragov’s army. Leon’s recon lance made contact with an advance scout force of hovercraft and wheeled vehicles, ironically likely sent to find us. There was a brief skirmish and, while Leon’s lance was outnumbered, they came off the better for it. As expected, the enemy force were poorly coordinated and lacked in practical experience; by his assessment, he suspected that they had never faced actual BattleMechs before.
There was a brief skirmish before the enemy recon force chose to disengage. Leon’s lance suffered only light damage in the engagement. On the other side, the enemy force lost three vehicles that were either disabled or crippled in the field. Unfortunately, by the time we could get a recovery team there, the surviving enemy crews had already either fled or gone to ground, which meant we couldn’t get any intel out of them. However, we learned a lot no less.
Our own recon, as well as the information we’ve gathered, tells us that Mandragov’s forces are holding the city of Baret to the east. They have a substantial force there, roughly equal in terms of numbers to our own. And while they are likely less experienced and cohesive than we are, they also are going to be able to use the city and the terrain to bolster their numbers. I’ll put Iulia and Anton to work to give us whatever advantages we can get.
-
Guest chapter by Zogster
Albatross
Low Orbit
Esteros
Deep within the bowels of the Union-X class DropShip Eridu, nestled in a drop cocoon, Lana Kotovski leaned back into her BattleMech’s command couch. She exhaled slowly and let a small smile creep across her face. We’re ready for this, she thought. They knew their objective, had a good estimation of enemy forces, had a layout of the battlefield and had been able to position their transports directly above the OZ without opposition. While the battle was ahead, in her mind the hard part was over.
“Prepare for drop,” came the voice of Ur’s mission controller. Eridu’s sister ship, the venerable Union had served as the Star of Sumer’s command ship for generations and was outfitted for command and control. Lana reached out and danced her hands over the controls, performing her thousandth last-minute check. All systems were green, as they had been for hours. Confirmations rang out from the unit’s BattleMech and battle armour commanders, before Lana added her own.
“We’re on schedule. Beginning countdown. Drop in ten.” As the mission controller counted down the seconds to launch, all was quiet over communications. She knew it wasn’t nerves, but professionalism. Her people were keeping the channels clear for updates or any sudden emergencies. Not that there would be any.
As the seconds counted down, she watched the bay doors open on her monitor. Soon the glittering planet Esteros was spread out beneath her. She forced her hands from the controls and leaned back in the command couch once more. Soon there would be more than enough requiring her attention but for now, all she could do was sit back and enjoy the ride.
“Drop.” The mechanical arms released Lana’s drop cocoon. Already caught in Esteros’ gravity well, the result was immediate. The cocoon plummeted from Eridu’s safety, the multi-thousand ton spacecraft vanishing from sight within seconds. Around her she could see the faint sights of her unit’s ‘Mechs and battle armour, plummeting from both ships towards the planet with her.
Soon enough, the cockpit began to shake. The temperature rose rapidly, and her external view was obscured by the searing red burn. Her drop cocoon had hit the atmosphere and was burning away as she plunged directly through it. Lana had lost count long ago of how many combat drops she had made. It was almost peaceful at this point, satisfied with the knowledge that her fate was outside her hands.
Within moments the heat shields were expended. The cocoon cracked open and ejected from her ’Mech. She watched as the components billowed out and away, lost above her as her ’Mech dropped like a stone. The radio was now full of chatter as different units checked in, each saying the same. Ejection successful, no damage or malfunction to report. She added her own confirmation.
The formation had tightened up as they fell. Looking around, she could make out other familiar sights. Her own lance, clustered close by. Katarina’s Warhammer, Enkidu; companion to her own ’Mech. Jakub’s Shadow Hawk, Princess, surrounded by his own lance. And the numerous other ’Mechs and battle armour that made up her assault force.
They were rapidly approaching the target. She could make out the contours of the mine, nestled atop an ocean-side cliff. It was nearly unassailable from the ground, but a ripe and open target for airborne assault. As she reached for the controls, she could see the Star’s fighter wing already swooping in from afar, softening up the defences.
Now was the time to act. She had picked out her landing site and was on target. In a few moments she would activate the braking thrusters attached to her ’Mech’s back. She gripped the joystick in one hand and held the other over the thruster control, keeping one eye on the landing zone and the other on her countdown. Seconds ticked away until the moment came to fire.
Which is when it all fell apart. She felt more than heard a detonation from her ’Mech’s rear, just as she hit the controls. The BattleMaster was flung off-course, pitching wildly to one side. A quick glance at her monitor showed that one of her thrusters had failed, leaving her plummeting off-course and far too fast towards the broken landscape below.
“Star Actual to all units. Have booster failure. Attempting to land,” Lana managed to call out over the comms as she angled towards a relatively flat target. Her BattleMaster struck hard, one leg coming down on a ledge and slipping, crumbling the rock face beneath it. The 85-ton BattleMech pitched over, tumbling to its side and down the embankment. She desperately flung its arms up to shield the cockpit before it crashed face-down into the mine below.
The cockpit shook with the impact. She bounced almost out of her command couch, snapping into the restraints. He left leg slipped off the foot pedals and crashed into the underside of the console. She felt something give, and a violent jolt of pain shot through her. The restraints snapped back, holding her against the command couch, as the BattleMaster finally came to a standstill.
Fighting through the pain, she slowly came back to her senses. The radio was abuzz with chatter, as much concerned with the battle raging around her as her own condition. She picked out Katarina’s voice in amongst the crowd. “Eye Command to Star Actual. Status. Lana, are you there?”
“I’m here,” she said at length through gritted teeth. She glanced at the map and her status board.
“Damage is minor but I’m isolated.” Her hands flew over the controls and the BattleMaster started to right itself. A grinding noise filled the cockpit as she encountered resistance, her ’Mech struggling to come to its feet. A check on her external monitors identified the problem. “I’m pinned by rubble. Trying to extract myself.”
Proximity sensors rang out, and Lana glanced up at her monitor. A pair of Vedette tanks were picking over the broken terrain towards her. She returned her attention towards the ’Mech’s legs, trying to shift the rubble off them. She cursed inwardly as the tanks drew ever closer, tracking their guns on her ’Mech’s prone form. Before they could fire, a quintet of missiles burst in the air between them, rapidly obscuring their view with thick black smoke.
“Thanks Jakub,” Lana said over the comm. She pressed down hard on the foot pedals, crying out as another spike of pain shot up her leg. She felt something shift on top of the ’Mech, and it swiftly righted itself, pulling itself to its feet. A moment later the two tanks burst through the smoke cloud, firing wildly. Shots went either side of her imposing BattleMech. She returned fire, concentrating everything on the first tank. Particle cannons and missiles slammed into its front, punching through its armour and detonating something from within. The tank vanished into a brilliant fireball.
“Star Actual, this is Comet Recon lead,” Jakub’s voice called out. Lana listened in as she pursued the second Vedette which was backpedalling desperately into the smoke cloud. “Heading for your position.”
“Copy,” she said curtly. The Vedette’s autocannon shells detonated against her BattleMaster’s thick armour, making little difference. She fired another volley, disregarding the massive heat spike. Shots burned across the medium tank, searing strips of armour from its hull. Its shredded treads ground against the broken rocks as it retreated further into the smoke.
Lana pushed through only to be suddenly intercepted. A modified mining ’Mech surged into view as the smoke cloud dissipated. Already at point-blank range, it lunged with a massive diamond-tipped drill. Already caught by surprise, it was all Lana could do to angle her ’Mech’s torso away from the blow, catching it on the already battered arm. However, the industrial ’Mech’s follow-up was more devastating, spraying the BattleMaster from two fluid guns. The caustic spray quickly ignited, sending her assault ’Mech up in flames. The cockpit rang out with heat warnings, and she could feel her ’Mech becoming sluggish and unresponsive.
Forgoing weapons, she swung back with the BattleMaster’s bludgeoning fists. Two mighty blows pounded into the industrial ’Mech’s torso, sending it staggering back a step. She followed up with a volley of short-ranged missiles, detonating almost the moment they left the launcher. Explosions rocked the mining ’Mech’s torso, briefly obscuring it from view. Another spray from its fluid guns washed over her ’Mech, keeping its heat dangerously high.
Before she could respond, another pair of attackers emerged. To her left, the remaining Vedette tank returned to the fore, bringing its autocannon to bear on her once more. At the same time, the boxy form of a Raider BattleMech emerged from behind the mining ’Mech. Both fired at once, slamming her BattleMech with unguided missiles and autocannon fire raining across its bulky form. She struggled against the sluggish controls but found her ’Mech pitching backwards, crashing to the ground and tumbling over onto its side.
Shaken in her cockpit, Lana fought against the pain. It took her a moment to come to her senses and take stock of the situation around her. The BattleMaster had rolled over as it fell, leaving its back to the enemy. It was facing one of the mine’s rock walls, which had a few small shacks set up against it. She could see workers huddled in fear within, with her own ’Mech in a direct line between the enemy’s fire and their minimal shelter.
The trio bore down upon her. She pushed the BattleMaster up on one arm, interposing it directly in the way of the shacks. Alarms rang out as more impacts struck against the ’Mech’s exposed rear. She gritted her teeth and struggled with the controls, trying to keep the ‘Mech steady and the workers’ shacks from harm. The fire abated for a second, and she took a moment to see why.
Two new forms had entered the fray. Jakub’s Shadow Hawk descended from above, scattering more smoke missiles over Lana’s position while simultaneously firing down on the Vedette. His autocannon scattered shot across the already damaged tank, perforating it all over its body. The vehicle seemed to sag in place, leaking fluid across the mine’s floor.
At the same time, Wen’s Nightsky lunged into view, bringing its weighty hatchet down on the mining ‘Mech’s shoulder. The blow ruptured its bulky fuel cannister, which instantly burst into flames. The industrial recoiled, burning all over and tumbling to the ground.
The Raider turned, suddenly outnumbered. It fired its paired missile racks at the Shadow Hawk which almost immediately leapt out of the way. At the same time the Nightsky moved in from its flank, cutting into the ’Mech’s form with an array of lasers. Staggering from the impacts, it tried to maintain its footing while bringing its weapons to bear on its new attacker.
All this allowed Lana to catch it by surprise. She emerged from the smoke cloud foot first, crashing the BattleMaster’s weighty treads right into the ’Mech’s hip. The raider spun with the impact, barely able to turn to face her before catching a full volley of particle cannons in the chest. Artificial lightning impacted on its chest, blowing back and coursing harmlessly across the BattleMaster. The Raider was blown off its feet, crashing down on its back and scattering rocks and debris around it. A final shot from Jakub’s autocannon tore into its exposed structure, puncturing engine and fuel tanks alike. The Raider ground to a halt and lay still.
“You alright?” Jakub said, his voice soft with concern.
Wincing against the pain in her leg, sweating at the steadily decreasing heat in her cockpit and at the same time feeling a righteous fury rising in her, Lana nodded. “All good.” She took a steadying breath, and scanned the terrain. Finding no immediate threats, she turned to the radio.
“Star Actual to all units. What’s our status?”
“Situation is contained,” Katarina’s voice returned. “There’s only minimal resistance left, and they’ve got nowhere to retreat to.”
“Copy that.” Reports from other units came in, confirming Katarina’s statement. As Lana had hoped, the battle had been a straightforward affair. In fact, the only major damage had been suffered by her BattleMaster. ”Give them a chance to surrender. They’re done here and they know it.”
Confirmations rang out. She nodded to Jakub and Wen, who quickly jetted away to join the rest of the battle. Alone for the moment, Lana turned her attention back to the shacks behind her. Despite the masses of weapon fire they remained undamaged, with the occupants seemingly unharmed. She sighed in relief, but cast her eye again over their conditions. While things had settled for the moment, there was more going on here than their employer knew.
-
Guest chapter by Zogster
Night Lights
Chort
Alwaid Continent
Esteros
If Alwaid had a wealthy region, it would have been the city of Chort. Sprawling across coastal hills, its combination of luxurious beaches and perpetual sunshine had attracted only the wealthiest of buyers. And while the beaches were barely used due to Esteros’ punishing ultraviolet radiation, the glittering ocean beyond made for perfect views for the mansions and elaborate estates that had quickly lined the coast. Anyone rich and influential on Alwaid – and many from Esteros beyond – had their own beach house on Chort.
Of course, when everything fell apart, this same wealth had attracted the worst of Esteros. And so it was that Bashiban Olegi, Warlord of Esteros had marshalled his troops to one of the wealthiest cities on the planet and taken up residence by force.
That it was close to a handy chokepoint for transportation from nearby mines didn’t hurt either.
Bashiban leaned back in the luxurious waterbed left by its former occupant. The man had apparently become famous for his reinterpretations of epic Star League poetry into ultra-violent thrillers. Bashiban wasn’t much for cinema, but he would admit the man had great taste in homes. From here, he could see out over the long white beach and to the ocean beyond, reflecting only the pale light of Esteros’ three moons.
He smiled to himself. Things had been good since he set up here. Oh, he was minor league as warlords went, but he knew it and was happy with that position. All he’d had to do was convince Mandragov it was cheaper to pay for access to the mines than to wipe him out, and he was set. That his forces were guarding the pass certainly helped. He didn’t much like Mandragov and his rhetoric, but had to admit he was a shrewd businessman.
Not that it had been particularly hard to move in. The place had been all but emptied out by the Jade Falcon occupiers, then abandoned once again when they left. Someone called the Free Guilds had apparently maintained it for whatever reason, but all that meant was that wealth luxury had awaited him and his men with no resistance.
Of course, in these uncertain times, he had provided security. As well as the forces securing passage to the mines, he had units scattered throughout the hills around Chort. Nobody would be able to approach undetected. He glanced out at his pride and joy parked on the manor’s lawn. His personal BattleMech, an Avatar that had been supplied by his backers. While he’d had little chance to use it yet, he just loved the feeling of power that came from its dual heavy particle cannons. It felt like nothing on Esteros could stand up to him. Now he could just lean back and revel in his comfort. What more was there to do?
His brows furrowed, suddenly unsettled. Had he seen something out there in the dead of night? He sat up and peered out onto his beach. The waves were crashing lazily on the glittering sand as always. He could see an encampment of soldiers out on the beach, lounging long into the night. And yet something else was…
The moment it struck him, it was too late. The ocean erupted, with a quartet of massive forms emerging from the depths. It took him a moment to take stock of exactly what he was seeing. Two of them, a Longbow and Bandersnatch opened up with a myriad of long-range missiles, arcing up and over his manor, lighting up the night sky. He felt as much as heard the impacts from around his estate. A Helios let loose with flights of short-range missiles which burst in mid-air, scattering flaming gel across his troops. He watched in horror as his men vanished in the ensuing inferno.
Finally at their lead a towering Gunslinger paused and took deliberate aim. Bashiban leapt from the bed, his silken robe flapping around him as he ran for the patio door, desperate to escape. He flung open the sliding glass door just as the ‘Mech fired. Even from this distance, the sonic boom of the twin gauss rifles was deafening. They struck with terrifying precision, punching through the Avatar’s recessed cockpit, carving it clean out of the torso. The heavy BattleMech collapsed backwards, crushing a wing of the manor under it.
The ground shook with the impact. Bashiban stumbled as he ran, tripping over a plush recliner and collapsing to his hands and knees. He scurried forwards for a moment before picking himself up. But suddenly there was nowhere to run. The four BattleMechs loomed over him. From all around, he heard the sounds of chaos. Yelling. Explosions. Fires crackled in the distance, bringing burning smells to his nose. He stopped dead in his tracks, staring up at the barrel-like form of the Gunslinger.
A woman’s voice boomed from the BattleMech, seemingly more amused than anything else. “Former warlord of Esteros,” she announced. “Surrender.”
What more was there to do?
-
Guest chapter by KayEmm
Uninvited Guests
DropShip Red Son
Alakaid, Esteros
The Iron Knights had no real field uniforms as such. Usually members of the unit wore whatever they had which was rugged and functional enough for field use, accented with the unit’s badge for the simple sake of identification. Despite that, Kaitlyn couldn’t help but feel self-conscious about her rough fatigues as the image of Graf Kayserling flickered to life on the situation room’s holotable. If Iulia and Leon, who were also present, had any concerns however, they did not show it.
“Graf Kayserling,” Kaitlyn began with a polite nod. “It is a pleasure to speak to you again.”
“As it is for me too,” He replied. “However, I wish it were under better circumstances.”
The immediately tensed up, as if bracing herself for action. “What has happened?”
“Two days ago a JumpShip entered the system,” he explained. “It used a pirate jump point to get as close to the world as possible.”
She nodded as she considered the development. “Which means that they probably were not here for anything legitimate. I assume they deployed ships?”
“They did,” he confirmed, the holographic image nodding in confirmation. “Two vessels, however they used the moons to conceal their approach for as long as possible.”
“We’re looking at some reasonably skilled crews here,” Leon suggested. “Between the pirate point and the run around the moons, I would wager that they’re experienced raiders and used to getting into a system where they’re not wanted.”
“Unfortunately, our lack of aerospace assets meant we couldn’t intercept them,” Kayserling admitted. “We lost track of them as they descended over eastern Alakaid.”
“Which means our own fighters probably wouldn’t have been able to get to them either,” Kait admitted as she bought up a map of the continent. “I assume they made no attempt to identify themselves.”
“They did not,” Kayserling confirmed.
“I see,” she tapped her chin in thought. “Thank you for that, Graf Kayserling.”
“Of course. If we learn anything else, we will let you know.” He finished. “Until then, farewell and good luck.” He gave a sharp salute, which she promptly responded to before the image flickered out.
“Pretty nice of the Graf to personally deliver the bad news,” Leon commented.
“Maybe he’s concerned about his employees,” she offered. “Especially given that we’re the ones who are trying to pull the planet back together.”
“And it’s nothing to do with the fact that he’s trying to marry his son off to you, of course,” Leon added. Behind him, Iulia chuckled.
It was all Kait could do not to roll her eyes and instead focus on the situation. “Any thoughts as to who they are?”
“Well if it helps, I don’t think it’s the Falcons returning for their world,” Leon suggested. “They would have announced who they were and what they were doing.”
“I’ll take your word on that,” she admitted. While she had done a lot of study on Clan tactics and combat, it was all theoretical for the moment. It was one of the areas where Leon had far more experience than she did. Still, the idea that the Jade Falcons, or some other Clan, could attack at any time was lurking in her thoughts. Putting that aside, she considered other options. “I don’t think it’s Madragov’s mysterious suppliers either.”
“What makes you say that?”
She pulled up an image of Esteros and its three moons. “It sounds like an awfully risky manoeuvre to pull with cargo DropShips,” Kait offered. “I can’t imagine that many merchantmen would want to run their engines that hard either.”
“Probably not,” Leon agreed. “Besides which, if they were supplying Mandragov, you’d think they’d make a run for the middle of his territory, not the end.”
“This is also true,” she agreed as she zoomed the map in on the Alakaid continent. “Mandragov’s forces hold the centre, but we’re not sure how far into the east he’s extended his reach.”
“There are mines out there,” Iulia noted.
“There are mines everywhere on this continent,” Leon added.
“This is true, but there are more,” she continued as she poked a part of the display, her finger passing through the image. “This area along the coast is built up; it has the second largest city on the continent. Or at least it was before. It also is conveniently cut off,” the traced an arc around the eastern peninsula. “The mountains here are rugged and volcanic. It would be a good place to hide something.”
“And how are the ley lines?” Leon joked.
Iulia shrugged. “I have not read them yet.” Her tone was cool, to the point that it was hard to tell if she was joking or sincere.
“So what do you think?” Kait asked. “Pirates?”
“It sounds like what we used to do,” Iulia spoke up. “Jump in close to a system and use whatever cover we could to shield us.” She glanced between the pair of them. “Balance the risks of navigational hazards against being intercepted.”
“I assume that this is before you were with the Iron Knights,” Leon noted.
“It was,” she agreed with a finality that suggested that nothing more was coming.
Leon looked over the map. “It’s basically a pirate’s dream. An isolated, mineral rich area on a world with no central authority and no chance of response from a nearby system.”
“But we can’t assume that they’re just going to stay holed up in their little corner,” Kait added.
“We can’t, no,” Leon agreed.
She glanced over the map. “And the Screaming Demons still aren’t accounted for,” she added. “All we know is that they haven’t left the planet, which means that they could be anywhere.”
“Which gives us two renegade forces to deal with,” Leon offered. “Because, you know, this wasn’t a complete mess already.”
“Fantastic,” Kaitlyn finished as she looked over the map again. “I suppose the odds are that, if nothing else, they’re going to be hostile to Mandragov.”
“I’d take that,” Leon nodded. “So what’s the plan?”
“We still have a contract,” Kaitlyn stated. “And for the moment, this force, whoever they are, still are half a continent away from us. We proceed with caution and do what we can to find out who these newcomers are and what they want.” She nodded to herself. “And who knows? They may be inclined to just leave us alone.”
“Do you really think that?” Leon asked.
“Well no,” she admitted. “But I can hope.”
-
Guest chapter by KayEmm
Emergence
Tirana, Alwaid
Esteros
In the few months since he had acquired it from his mysterious benefactors, Dimitri Mandragov had become rather fond of his Titan BattleMech. It was not just that it felt good to be back in the cockpit after a decade, but also the acknowledgement of the sheer power the ’Mech represented. At the moment, he was the most powerful man on the continent, but the BattleMech served as a physical manifestation of that power; a hundred tons of machinery that could be used to impose his will.
Officially, he took the ’Mech out for regular practice runs to help familiarise himself with it while also ensuring that his skills had not slipped too far after a decade of no being used. In reality, he simply did it because it felt good.
He had been getting ready for another one of his practice runs when he had been interrupted by an urgent message from Tansel Sayyid, the closest thing he had to a second. He knew that whatever it was would be important, which angered him for two reasons. The first was that his own private empire was under threat from mercenaries sent specifically to eliminate him, and this was likely some new development of that ongoing situation. The second was that he had been denied a chance to go out in his BattleMech.
He marched into his situation room and glared at the two officers present. “What is it now?” Mandragov asked, his tone one of barely contained frustration.
“A pair of DropShips,” Tansel Sayyid confirmed. “They came down over Ludow and executed a combat drop on our mine there.”
“Hm, that was Captain Zhu’s assignment,” he considered as he looked over a holographic map of the continent. “What is his status?”
“We don’t know, sir,” Sayyid admitted.
“What do you mean?” His eyes narrowed.
“Contact was lost after the initial combat drop, but the reports we got indicated at least a company of BattleMechs,” she explained. “Given that there was a second DropShip behind it, we can only assume they had armor support.”
“I see,” he considered.
“After that at best we got were fragments,” she continued. “Our forces at the mine were outnumbered and under fire from what appears to be a well-coordinated force. They moved quickly to eliminate our command elements and secure the site”
“So probably not pirates then,” he nodded. “This sounds far too professional for that.”
“That was my assessment as well,” she agreed.
“And our forces?”
“They appear to have lost cohesion and fled,” Sayyid noted. “We’re still trying to regain contact with them and assess their losses, but we can take it as a reasonable assumption that the attackers have chosen to hold the mine complex.” There as a pause. “At this point we have to assume that Zhu is either dead or otherwise incapacitated,” she added.
“Hopefully they killed him,” Mandragov considered. “Far less of an intelligence risk that way.”
“Agreed,” Sayyid nodded.
“Can you tell me anything else about them?”
“They weren’t sent by the Esteros Assembly,” Gordan Romic spoke up. During the Clan occupation, he had been a part of the underground black market, giving him considerable connections across the world. Now he was the closest thing Mandragov had to a spymaster “My sources tell me that they have not hired more mercenaries, and that they were as surprised by this arrival as the last one.”
“Which means that they may not be allied with any of our other intruders,” he considered.
“This is true, but they also share a common enemy in us,” Romic added.
He looked over the map again. “So this now makes three hostile forces on Alwaid.” One icon was hovering over the city of Baret; a sword over a black and red shield. “The mercenaries sent by the assembly,” he considered. “What is their status?”
“They are still engaged with Captain van der Kriel’s forces in Baret,” Sayyid explained. “His last report indicated that he had fallen back to the district capitol.”
Mandragov gave a very quiet, barley audible growl before continuing, fully aware of the implication in the report. “And this group here,” he looked at the second icon in the far east. “Their status?”
“After they seized Chort they have been relatively quiet. They have made some probing attacks on our holdings but nothing beyond that,” Romic noted.
“However, that does seem to be in advance of a more aggressive action. They have clearly made themselves at home, and look like they intend to expand their holdings.”
“That was Olegi’s territory,” Mandragov considered. “Do we have any idea what happened to his forces?”
“From what we can tell, they folded with very little effort,” Romic stated. “These newcomers probably folded them in to their own forces.”
“I would not imagine that worm would put up much of a fight,” Mandragov muttered. Olegi had largely remained untouched because of the distance to his holdings and the geographical barriers in the way. “And the renegade mercenaries?”
“We have had limited contact with them,” Romic admitted. “They have been largely operating in the unclaimed territory to the south, but are avoiding contact with our forces.” The icon representing them was faded, indicating a last known location. “So far they have not taken any hostile actions against us.”
He looked over the map. “So far, all three forces are isolated from each other. We outnumber any one of them,” Mandragov noted, “but our forces are scattered over a wide area. They can pick us off piecemeal and wear us down.”
“The extent of our holdings works against us,” Sayyid noted.
“Exactly,” He agreed, looking over the map. “Order van der Kriel to abandon Baret and pull back. I do not want to lose men now to adventurism and pointless battles.” He glanced up at those assembled. “Romic, I want you to get me as much information as we can on these other two forces. If we can concentrate our army and eliminate one of them, that will improve the situation.”
“Understood.”
Mandragov looked over the map. “See if you can reach out to those rogues as well. Maybe we can buy them off.”
“Good idea,” he nodded. “Any restrictions on what I should offer them?”
“Whatever it takes,” Mandragov considered. “Preferably gems or minerals, however. I would rather not give up any of our ammunition and supplies when we need them the most.”
“Understood.”
Mandragov looked over the map again. “This is my world. I am not going to give it up now.”
-
Guest chapter by Zogster
Rest Stop
DropShip Ur
Alwaid
Esteros
“An albatross?” Katarina asked incredulously.
Cecilia Mars, the Star of Sumer’s diminutive medical chief shrugged at her. “Well, local large seabird equivalent,” she added.
Katarina sighed and glanced around. Just beyond them, Lana Kotovski, sat up in a bed on the Ur’s medical bay. Her lower left leg was in a protective casing and suspended above her. And, no doubt against the doctor’s orders, she was going over numerous reports on a datapad.
“So let me get this right.” Katarina pinched the bridge of her nose as she repeated the technician’s report. “On descent, at the precise moment she fired up her braking thrusters, a large seabird just happened to be flying over the mine and got caught in the rocket, destroying it.”
“Yes. Million to one chance.” They looked at each other each no doubt thinking the exact same thing. “Don’t say it,” Cecilia cut in before Katarina could comment, somehow glaring down at her despite their height difference.
Katarina raised her hands in surrender. “Just… glad it wasn’t worse.”
“That’s what I thought,” Cecilia replied, folding her arms across her chest.
“So how bad is it?” Katarina asked, glancing at Lana’s leg.
“Could be worse, really. Clean break, low down. She keeps off her leg, gets plenty of rest and it’ll heal up fine in no time.”
“If she keeps off it…” Katarina repeated, cautiously.
“That’s your job,” Cecilia said. “Because she thinks she’s going right back into action.”
“No,” Katarina simply stated. “Not happening.”
“Yeah, good luck with that,” Ceclia muttered and stepped past her. Katarina shook her head and strolled up to the bed where Lana lay.
“How you holding up?” she gently asked her commander.
Lana gave a wry smile and gestured at the casing. “Fine, considering,” she said. “I’ve been through worse.”
Yeah, all while piloting that… Katarina refused to finish the thought, instead focusing on her friend. “Cecilia says you should be fine if you stay off that leg.”
“I’d like to,” Lana replied, “But we may not have the chance.”
Katarina furrowed her brow in confusion. “We’ve done the major part of the contract. All we’ve got to do is hold down the fort for a while and get paid.”
Lana shook her head, her smile fading. “No, it’s bigger than that.” She put aside the datapad and looked up at Katarina. “I’ve been getting situational reports from across the continent. Apparently this mine is just one holding of a major warlord who’s got forces everywhere.”
“Then we’ve got to hold him off for a while,” Katarina replied. “Intel says there’s no major transport assets on world and we definitely have air superiority. This mine could be a fortress.”
“But they’ll just retake it when we’re gone. If we don’t do something about this warlord, then our employer will lose the mine again it this job will all have been for nothing.”
“That’s… the employer’s problem.” Katarina shrugged. “Okay, so the situation’s not quite what we thought it was, but that doesn’t change the scope of our contract. We’re not getting paid to go any further than this.”
“Pay shouldn’t be a problem.” Lana glanced briefly at the datapad. “According to this, we made a killing in salvage, and with what we know of their forces our damage should be minimal. We outweigh and outclass most everything on the planet.”
“Assuming our intel’s correct and everything goes right.” Katarina couldn’t help but glance at the casing on Lana’s leg once more. “Besides, we’ve got a set duration here, and who knows how long such a campaign could take.”
“Well we can make an impact on his forces in that time, at least.” Lana replied. “Strike his supply bases, loosen his grip on this continent. Give the locals more of a fighting chance.”
“And stretch ourselves out,” Katarina said. “You’d be splitting up the unit, probably leaving no more than a skeleton force here. That could leave us vulnerable, and cost us a lot in a counterattack.”
“I’m drawing up plans for our deployment. I figure if-“
“Look, I’m sorry, but no.” Katarina held up her hands. “I know you’re the commander, but as your XO I can’t agree with this and I can guarantee Isaías will be with me.” She gave Lana a soft smile, and gently reached out to take her hand. “I know you want to help. But it’s beyond us. Really.” Katarina sighed and shook her head. “Think of this as a chance to get some rest and heal up, okay? Because you really don’t do that enough.” When Lana didn’t reply, Katarina nodded and turned for the door.
“They had slaves,” Lana said softly behind her. “They’re being shipped off-world.”
Deflating, Katarina knew she’d lost. She couldn’t argue any further, and if she was being honest, she wouldn't want to. She turned back to see her friend’s hopeful smile beaming from the medical bed. Katarina took a moment to find her words, eventually just saying “Alright. Fine. But you’re staying here.”
“Yes ma’am,” Lana replied, smiling from ear to ear.
“I mean it,” Katarina said, and turned to leave once more. She shook her head in dismay, partly for agreeing to this nonsense and partly at her commander’s earnest reply. Lana cared too much. And somehow, Katarina knew it would get her killed.
-
Guest chapter by KayEmm
Downtown
Baret, Alwaid
Esteros
In many ways, Johan van der Kriel had been relieved when his commander had been killed.
Three days ago, their forces had made contact with a mercenary unit that had apparently been hired to bring Warlord Madragov to heel. Major Georgio Fumetti had led his troops in a straight-up charge on the enemy line, hoping to overwhelm them with the sheer weight of numbers. That charge had ended with his Verfolger taking a PPC hit straight through its cockpit.
Johan had immediately taken control of the situation and done his best to salvage it. Realizing just how outclassed his forces were and how poorly they were managing without their commander, he’d ordered them to pull back into Baret proper and consolidate. Few had been willing to argue with his taking over the force, given what had just happened.
It didn’t hurt that in the short time that he’d known Fumetti, Johan had come to dislike the man on a number of levels. He had been one of Madragov’s loyalists, promoted because the warlord trusted him and not because of any ability. And since somebody had seen fit to assign the man a BattleMech, he’d taken to lording over everyone around him like he was some demigod. Quietly, Johan had wondered if his plan hadn’t been based on delusions of grandeur more than any tactical reasoning.
“Status?” He called out over the command channel from the cupola of his Patton tank. It was sitting in the middle of a patch of scrubby purple parkland outside the brutalist concrete block that was Baret’s administrative capitol, in among the other tanks and BattleMechs of what was now his force.
The reply was a chorus of all-clear reports, which concerned him. He knew that the enemy were aiming to liberate Baret, and would have to come after him sooner or later in order to achieve that objective. In order to prepare for that eventuality, he’d set booby traps and mines along the most likely approaches to the city centre, as well as set up pickets to report on enemy movements. While he didn’t expect those traps to stop the enemy, he figured that they would at least slow them and give him time to respond.
But all of that depended on the enemy actually appearing, which so far they had not done.
“Contact!” a voice called out over the command network. “Multiple enemy BattleMechs in grid Echo-Nine.”
“What?” he all but snapped as he glanced down at his display. By that report, the enemy force were coming from the north, having picked their way through the city’s dense industrial district. He had discounted the approach simply because it was so cluttered and overbuilt that it would be difficult at best for the enemy force to make their way through it. Not only would they have to deal with the terrain, but they would become strung out and be forced to advance in narrow files rather than a broad front.
Either their commander is insane or they have some skilled pathfinders, he considered as several red indicators appeared on the display. “All units, enemy forces approaching from the north!” he called out. The Patton’s driver was already responding, turning the tank to face the oncoming enemy force. “Prepare to engage!”
A pair of enemy BattleMechs leapt over a row of buildings, taking long-range shots at his forces. A moment later, flights of long-ranged missiles arced overhead before crashing down among his lines. “Fire!” he called out over the tank’s internal network, with the response coming a moment later from the roar of the Patton’s artillery cannon. The shot sailed towards one of the two ’Mechs, only narrowly missing it and instead impacting into a nearby building.
More of the enemy were now emerging, with a force of BattleMechs either jumping or simply walking in from the north. They were accompanied by a flight of VTOLs skimming over the roofs of the nearby buildings, while hovertanks came at their flanks. His own forces wheeled around to engage, having been prepared for their enemy taking an entirely different approach.
Long-range weapons fire flew between the two forces. An enemy Griffin lashed out with its PPC and missiles, tearing into a Vedette tank by Johan’s side. His artillery cannon scored a measure of vengeance, smashing into the Griffin’s side, staggering the ’Mech but not knocking it down.
A Starslayer stepped forward to aid him, only to be blasted by a pair of PPC shots that tore into its chest. As the BattleMech tried to rise, another pair of shots followed up, ripping its weapon arm apart. Johan could immediately see the source of the attacks; a Warhammer IIC and Marauder emerging from cover, advancing on his lines, the latter of which was clad in a distinct red and black scheme.
“One of those has to be their commander!” He called out. “Concentrate fire!”
A Marsden tank rolled forwards, only to be immediately pummelled by two flights of missiles from a Catapult. The damaged tank had no chance to recover, instead being torn apart by a Hunchback’s autocannon. To one side, he saw a Schildkrote try to bring its guns to bear on a pair of fast-moving Pegasus hovertanks, its shots instead going wide as the enemy vehicles peppered it with missiles.
“Bunch of bloody amateurs,” he muttered. “Target the Warhammer and take it out!”
The artillery cannon struck home, the shell smashing into the assault BattleMech’s leg; the follow-up Thunderbolt smashed into one arm, but neither shot seemed to stop it. The Warhammer’s response was to open fire again on the damaged Starslayer, its twin PPCs tearing its right side apart. The Starslayer crashed down hard to the pavement, its flank little more than burning wreckage.
At its side, the Marauder turned its attention towards his tank. Its twin PPCs led the assault, smashing armor from the front and side of the Patton’s hull. A cloud of pellets from its autocannon further rattled the tank, an alarm going off inside the cockpit. “What the bloody hell is going on?”
“Main gun is out of action.” The Gunner reported. “Trying to fix it now.”
Johan looked over the battlefield, seeing the Marauder continuing to advance. “Back up!” He called out, the driver immediately responding. The Patton lurched backwards, another shot from its Thunderbolt launcher covering it as it went. He felt the lurch as the tank ground its way up the stairs to the city hall. “Keep going!”
“But-“ the driver objected.
“Just bloody well do it!” He snapped. Moments later there was a small impact as the tank backed through the front of the city hall, taking shelter inside its oversized lobby.
“Main gun is green!” The Gunner yelled.
“Good. Keep firing!”
The artillery cannon roared again, the shot landing between the Warhammer and Marauder, splashing both with debris. His Thunderbolt and lasers found more success, smashing into the Warhammer’s upper torso, but doing little to stop the heavy machine.
Clearly aware of what had happened, the Marauder turned to face him, its twin PPCs unleashing a storm of artificial lightning. As he had hoped, the building caught the brunt of the assault, leaving his Patton’s armor scorched but not breached. For its part, the Warhammer seemed to be focusing its attention elsewhere. It was a small relief, but he would take it.
“Keep backing up!” He ordered. The Patton lurched backwards, continuing to smash its way through the building in its backwards manoeuvring. He could feel every knock against its hull as it hit and then crushed whatever it found on the way before smashing out through the back side of the building. It was one of those advantages he was going to take; while his tank had left a trail of destruction behind it, it would be nothing compared to what the Marauder would need to do in order to chase him.
“Do we have a firing solution on anything?” He called out.
“Uh... confirmed,” the gunner replied.
“High-arc ballistic shot,” he ordered. Moments later, both the cannon and Thunderbolt launcher pivoted upwards, their shots arcing over the building. He had no idea if they had hit anything on the other side, but he’d take it if they had.
An incoming message indicator grabbed his attention. “This is van der Kriel,” he replied, shouting over the sound of the battle around him.
“This is Major Sayyid,” the voice on the other end of the line began, audible despite the crackle of enemy jamming. “You are to abandon Baret immediately.”
“That,” he considered, “is the best bloody news I've heard all day.”
-
Guest chapter by Zogster
After Market
Chort, Alwaid
Esteros
As the blazing sun rose above the horizon, Violetta Vujic gave a languid, feline stretch. It had been a long night, but very profitable. She looked out over the burnt and shattered remains of Chort, less a functional city as it was a play-pen for the rich and powerful. Well, at least it was before the Jade Falcons showed up. She took a small amount of comfort imagining the wealthy elite being dragged away by Clan oppressors.
Peering out onto the horizon, beyond the renovations they’d made with their BattleMech’s weapons, she could spot two new additions to the landscape. The first was the Toquemada, their old Union DropShip now parked on a freeway nearby. The second was an ever-growing plume of thick black smoke growing out in the distance. She thumbed her communicator over to a particular channel and raised it to her lips.
“Rickie, is that your handiwork I see in the distance?”
The reply came immediately, accompanied by a chuckle. “That is what’s left of Olegi’s roadside guards. Your little pet located them for us, so me and the boys decided to have a cook-off.”
“Nice work. Any problems?” she asked.
“I mean, Karloff’s concerned by the long-term environmental impact of…” he trailed off into a deep, resounding guffaw. “Aw, I can’t even finish that.”
“I’ll take that as a no,” Violetta said with a smile. “Head on in, boys. There’s plenty to divvy up.”
“Ooh yeah. Leave some for me.”
With that, Violetta cut off the line. She paused a while, seeing a luxurious hovercar approaching. As it came towards her, she took a while to survey their success. Her troops had spread out from the DropShip and were busy pulling everything that wasn’t nailed down from the opulent homes amongst the hills. By now, she was sure nobody would miss it.
The hovercar pulled up alongside her at the entrance to the former warlord’s estate. She could see the portly face of their employer’s representative, Demos through the tinted window. Violetta leaned down and tapped on the window, which Demos immediately lowered.
“Found yourself a new ride?” she asked.
“Just sitting untouched in someone’s garage. Took a bit of tweaking to get going, but I’ve had some experience boosting autos back home,” he replied.
Violetta nodded her approval. “Nice ride?”
High sighed, grasped the steering wheel, seemed to compose his thoughts for a second and said “I’ve had better.”
Violetta couldn’t help but chuckle. “Sun’s up. Better get inside,” she said, gesturing to the scarf she’d wrapped around his head.
“With you there.” Demos raised the door and all but bounded out of the car, making a beeline for the manor’s entryway. He held his satchel over his head all the way, while Violetta slowly followed behind. Soon enough they were inside, behind the polarised windows. Violetta took a moment to unwind her head scarf and leave it by the door.
“So, I imagine our employer will be pleased?” she asked as the pair started through the hallways. While the city had been opened up for her troops to plunder as they pleased, Violetta had rightly assumed that Bashiban Olegi had already acquired the best it had to offer for himself. And so his former manor was now left for her command staff to take from as they would.
“Well…no.” Violetta cocked an eyebrow at the shorter man. “I had a chat with our former warlord, and it turns out he wasn’t the one we’re after.”
“But he was holding those mines,” Violetta replied as she snatched a bottle off a side-table in passing.
“Just those mines,” Demos said as they rounded a corner into the master bedroom. Jackson was standing by a large painting, lost in thought as he examined it while Maeve stood half-in the cavernous wardrobe, rifling through its compartments.
“Turns out the man was allied with a bigger fish named Dimitri Mandragov. He’s the guy who holds all the power on Alwaid.”
Violetta scowled at him for a moment. She wasn’t a big fan of surprises, especially when they meant more risk for her unit. Before she could reply however, Jackson called out “Safe” and lifted the large painting before him off the wall. As he’d reported, it exposed a grey metal safe built into the wall.
“Ah, the classics!” Demos said, rubbing his hands with enthusiasm. Before anyone else could respond, he scooted up to the safe. Jackson stood aside, letting him examine the mechanism. “Now this is old, old school. Purely mechanical I’ll bet. Got some advantages in keeping it hidden, but that also means that an expert can crack it easily.”
“Never a safecracking expert around when you need one,” Maeve said, stepping up alongside Violetta. Rather than reply, Demos took a bow then pressed his ear up against the metal.
“He’s not serious, is he?” Maeve looked over at her commander, noting her sour expression. “What’s wrong?”
“Job’s bigger than we thought,” Violetta replied. “This guy was just small fry.”
“Oh dear. You’ll have to get your hands dirty,” Maeve replied, her voice dripping sarcasm.
Without even looking at her, Violetta handed off the bottle she’d found. Maeve glanced down at it and cooed “Ooh, nice,” before wandering off.
“I don’t like it when contracts change,” Violetta said to Demos.
He held up a finger even as he delicately worked the safe’s tumbler. “It hasn’t changed, we’re just working off newer intel. Besides, as it expands I’m sure you’ll find more…” He trailed off, before a satisfied smirk crossed his face. With a flourish, he flicked down the handle and pulled the door open. A wealth of jewellery all but spilled out before them.
“...opportunities,” he finished with a bow.
Violetta rolled her eyes. She glanced over at Maeve who met her gaze with a smug look. “Shut up,” she said back at her company commander, before turning back to Demos.
“Fine. But this had better pay off,” Violetta said.
The former safecracker and carjacker nodded to her and, flashing a smile, said “Trust me.”
-
Guest chapter by KayEmm
Enemies Abound
By the start of 3152, the situation had completely changed for Dimitri Mandragov. A scant month ago, he had been in near complete control of Alwaid, with no force being able to oppose him. Now he was dealing with three different mercenary units, each of which had ample reasons to want to completely remove him as a threat, and each of which were capable of standing up against his own armies of BattleMechs and tanks. Furthermore, while he had to spread his forces out to maintain control of his conquered territories, they could simply focus their aggression and dismantle his army piecemeal.
Mandragov had no reason to believe that the invading forces would cooperate, but at the same time, he could not risk their choosing to form an alliance. He knew that regardless of their actual goals, all three of them had a common enemy in the form of him and his army, and that alone would give them ample reason to cooperate. Reinforcing that point, his intelligence told him that Farris’ Iron Knights were directly aiming to remove him from power, which would give them reason to want to form an alliance.
The biggest threat was on the western front. At that point, while the Star of Sumer and Iron Knights were not directly working together, they were also operating in the same theatre and as such were the most likely to link up with each other. Eliminating one of them would greatly reduce that risk.
Based on what he knew, Mandragov chose the Star of Sumer as the more vulnerable of the two. While they were a larger force, he also knew that the Iron Knights were being backed by the Esteros assembly, and as such, had more resources that they could immediately call on. Conversely, the Star had only recently dropped onto the world, and had no allies to speak of that they could get aid from. As such, he reasoned that they were more likely to retreat in the face of losses.
While he had a lot of ambition, Mandragov’s plans were also hampered by his logistical realities. As such, his task force was a composite affair, made up of those units that had survived the retreat from Baret and supplemented by what other units he could quickly assemble and dispatch. The resultant unit was headed by a reinforced BattleMech company, augmented by a small collection of modified IndustrialMechs. The bulk of it consisted of a medium tank battalion, supported by conscript infantry and a small artillery detachment. Well aware that his forces were still technologically and qualitatively inferior to their opponents, Mandragov aimed to bridge that gap through sheer weight of numbers. The unit was headed up by Major Gustav Daintz, a Mandragov loyalist, and supported by Captain Johan van der Kriel, a veteran mercenary.
Ironically, the task force would end up having the opposite effect of the one he sought.
- From Warlords of the 32nd Century, Galatea Free Press
-
Guest chapter by KayEmm and Zogster
Crossfire
Outside Abbeville, Alwaid
Esteros
“We’re at Nav Alpha, Captain. Awaiting orders.”
Johan van der Kriel blinked a moment, snapping back to reality. He was in the command cupola of his Patton tank, which was in the middle of an advancing force.
“Captain?” The driver repeated.
“Nav Alpha, yes,” he nodded, quickly bringing up his display and running over the information it presented. “Maintain speed and continue to Nav Bravo.”
He glanced over the display again. All units in his makeshift battalion were accounted for and, despite his own misgivings, the rabble that comprised it were doing a decent job of maintaining formation and coherence. Major Daintz’ BattleMech company had the lead, which meant that should worst come to worst, they would be the first to engage and have the most tactical mobility. Not only that, but they were also shielded by the mass of light vehicles, many of which were actually civilian transports, that were carrying the formation’s infantry forces. Should they make contact with an unexpected enemy force, his unit would be the best protected.
While he had no love for his employer, van der Kriel also fully understood the logic of Mandragov’s plan: isolate one of the enemy units and eliminate it before it could become too great a threat was sound strategy. His target, one of the ones that had come from offworld also made sense, given that they would be further removed from their backers than the unit he had been fighting in Baret, and thus more likely to retreat in the face of losses. And while they didn’t have as much information on this unit as they did on that unit he had previously faced, what they knew suggested that his force could overwhelm it with sheer weight of numbers alone.
And even though he didn’t want to admit it, there was another reason why he would rather be facing this unknown force than the one he had faced in Baret. One part of that battle had weighed on him. He knew that he was lucky to have escaped it alive, and not just because he had been in the thick of the fighting in a heavy tank that would logically draw a lot of fire. Rather, it was one of the enemy BattleMechs in particular that had been on his mind.
As strange as it sounded, it seemed like the Marauder he had faced was coming after him personally. Not because the flow of the battle had given it an opening to come after him. Not because he was in a heavy tank that had been using its artillery cannon to break up the enemy formation. No, it had felt like that ’Mech was out for his blood, like it was targeting him personally.
He’d tried to tell himself that he was overthinking the situation and that he was imagining it. Then he had gone over the battleROMs in order to analyse the situation and gather as much information on the attackers as possible. One part of it had stuck out to him: the opening of the first day of the battle, when Major Fumetti’s ’Mech had been taken out early on, killing him. At first, he had simply put it down to chance, combined with Fumetti’s decision to make himself a target. However, on closer analysis, there was something else that had struck him about what had happened.
The shot that had killed Fumetti had been fired by that same red and black Marauder.
And to his mind, that could not have been just a coincidence.
He flipped open the command channel. “All units, this is van der Kriel,” he announced, his tone clear. “Keep your eyes peeled and open for any signs of trouble. Do not get sloppy; if you see something – anything – then report it immediately.” It felt like he shouldn’t need to remind them of such basic advice, but the fact of the matter was that he did not have much faith in the rabble that passed for Mandragov’s army.
Johan knew that the warlord had leveraged his experience as a guerrilla as a part of this operation. Mandragov had scouts and local assets that were familiar with the terrain keeping eyes on the enemy formation, and ensured that Daintz (and thus he) was kept up to date. They had a good assessment of the enemy’s capabilities, and were confident that weight of numbers and local knowledge would offset their enemy’s technological advantages. And yet, for all that, he couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that there was something that he was missing.
He looked over the tactical display again. His Patton was firmly in the centre of the formation, while Daintz remained in the front. And if that’s where he wants to be, then that’s his choice, he told himself. And better that Marauder goes after him than me.
-----
With the arrival of the newcomers, Kaitlyn Farris had chosen to sit tight for the moment to see what they would do. While her forces were now engaged with Mandragov’s, she was reluctant to commit to any new operations while there was an unknown force in her operational area. While she knew that this unknown force was hostile towards Mandragov’s army, she had no idea how they would react to her own unit. Given the degree that she was outnumbered by the warlord’s army, the last thing she wanted to do was start a fight with another enemy.
They had not yet made any efforts to contact her unit, but there was also the distinct possibility that they were not aware of the Iron Knights’ presence on the world. With the speed that information travel at due to the lack of functional HPGs and the rapidly changing situation, it was entirely likely that the newcomers had an image of Esteros that was six months old.
She’d sat tight for several days as the unknown force had done the same, likely repairing, gathering salvage and consolidating their forces. However, rather than departing, they had apparently gone on the move, suggesting that this was not a raiding party, or that they had designs that went beyond their initial landing site. After some discussion with her fellow officers, she decided to put her unit on the move, marching towards the other force in order to make contact with them and assess if they were a threat. If they were not, then she would have over-planned; but if they were, at the very least she would be ready.
While her units were advancing at a fair speed, she was not being entirely careless in her approach. VTOLs and hovertanks were moving ahead of the rest of the unit, sweeping for any signs of hostile forces, be they be the newcomers, Mandragov’s army or anything else. And they were not the only assets that she had in play.
“Knight Zero-Two here,” Iulia’s voice came over the command channel. Kait would have instantly recognised her friend’s voice, but she also appreciated the professional conduct. “Yamashita has found an unknown force.” Anton Yamashita was one of those assets, riding ahead of the rest of their formation with a dirt bike and only minimal equipment, and reporting only to Iulia. Kaitlyn was not going to question his methods or his approach, given how effective he was. “Grid ref Bravo-Three; heading northwest just south of Abbeville.”
“Understood,” she replied as she looked over her own map display, with the location of her unit highlighted. That’s still south of our last reported location of the newcomers, while heading towards their location. Based on their location, the unknown unit was advancing over relatively open plains, but was headed towards a more rugged, badlands region. “Has he been able to identify them?”
“Not yet,” Iulia admitted.
“Understood.” She updated the map with a new marker for the unidentified force. “Get him to continue to follow them, but be careful.” The last point was more her own concern than anything else. So far, he’d demonstrated an amazing ability to remain unobserved while operating.
She spared the map another glance before continuing. “This is Knight Lead to all units. Change course for heading zero-three-zero and maintain current speed. Recon elements sweep towards grid Bravo-Three.” A chorus of affirmatives followed as the Iron Knights pivoted towards the new heading. By her figuring, she would be approaching from the flank of this unknown force. Too many unknowns, she told herself. And yet I’m marching towards them.
It was the better part of an hour before the next report came in. “Yamashita has them,” Iulia stated. “They are Mandragov’s men; maybe a battalion of tanks, with some ’Mechs as well. They are moving at maybe half our own speed.”
Which means that they’re hostile, Kait assessed. And, based on their position and heading, they’re moving to intercept the newcomers. So if nothing else, we have a common enemy. “This is Knight Lead to all units; prepare to engage.”
-----
Katarina cursed to herself as fire rained down around them.
The Star of Sumer’s advance had been caught in a textbook ambush. She had led their forces into a wide gully, and even as her Warhammer set foot in the shallow river at its base, the enemy had appeared at the treeline on the far side. She had little time to assess the situation before they were under fire. Acting on instinct more than anything, she shifted her massive BattleMech into reverse.
“Eye Command to all units. Break for cover!” Even as she said that, she knew it was futile. The gully was mostly open and clear, save for a scattering of boulders and a few lonely violet trees – all of which were on the enemy’s side of the terrain. She joined up with Peyton’s Gallowglas, leading the Star’s command lance in Lana’s absence, as it drew a bead on the ridge opposite.
“What do we have?” Katarina asked, switching over to a private channel.
“Sensors are going wild,” came the pilot’s calm response. A brief grunt signalled a smattering of missiles raking across the Gallowglas’ torso. Peyton continued unabated. “Too many to make out, all clustered together and coming at us.”
Katarina nodded to herself. She fired her particle cannons up at the ridge line, less at any given target as much to keep the force at bay. A quick glance across her lines showed the situation was dire. Isaías’ tank forces were stuck out in the open, his own heavy lance in the middle of the river. They were sitting ducks for incoming enemy fire.
Another spray of missiles swept down on them. Katarina recoiled from the impacts and fired back once more, hoping for more than expecting a hit. Got to respond better than this, she thought to herself.
“Eye Striker and Pursuit. Advance and protect the tanks. Comet Recon, see if you can get a look at the enemy formation.”
A round of acknowledgements came through her comms. Already she saw her own company’s medium and light ‘Mechs breaking ahead to shield the vulnerable tanks. Isaías’ heavy lance opened fire on the ridge. She watched as return fire mangled a Von Luckner’s treads, leaving it stuck in the middle of the river. At the same time a quartet of BattleMechs jetted into the air, arcing up and ahead to survey the battlefield ahead.
The response was immediate. An overwhelming barrage of flak burst up from over the ridge, darkening the pale blue sky. The quartet of ’Mechs took were rattled with impacts, and rapidly descended below the line of fire. While three landed safely, the Firefly amongst them crashed to the ground, its side smoking.
“Jakub!” Katarina called out in alarm.
“We’re alright,” came the reply.
Katarina allowed herself a brief sigh of relief. “Report.”
“At least a company of BattleMechs, and what looks like a full battalion of vehicles plus emplaced infantry providing fire support.”
“A full…” Katarina trailed off. Estimates of the local warlord’s forces and transportation assets had her expecting to fight equal numbers of inferior, poorly trained forces. Instead, it seemed he pulled out all the stops and mustered a huge portion of his armed forces for one battle. No doubt hoping to take out the Star in a single hit.
Maybe Lana was the lucky one, she thought ruefully.
There were not many options. It was further back now than forward, and a prolonged retreat over open terrain would give the enemy plenty of time to pick them off one at a time. They were shooting wildly, but the sheer volume of incoming fire would wear them down soon enough.
Before she could make the call, the ridge erupted with movement. A dozen BattleMechs crested it and stormed down into the gully, either barrelling down the side or jetting overhead. At the same time, a line of combat vehicles reached the edge, aiming their various cannons and missiles down into the kill box. At their centre she could see a Patton tank, safely ensconced among its escorts, commanding the field.
“Orders?” Peyton asked.
Retreat was no longer an option. In the centre of the BattleMech wave she saw a Hunchback charging at her. As one, she and Peyton swivelled and brought their cannons to bear. Even as it opened up with a blinding array of lasers, they fired back, carving into its legs and torso. Briefly happy that she came off better for the exchange, her Warhammer was rocked with cannon fire. Peyton broke off to deal with the Hunchback, while she fought with the controls to stay upright.
Her gaze fell once more on the Patton tank. Its whole lance had taken an interest in her, and from here there was little she could do. No, there were no options left.
“All points advance! Bring down their BattleMech forces, then take that ridge.” She didn’t need to tell anyone the futility of the order; they likely knew just how bad the situation was.
She surged her Warhammer forwards and opened fire. Her particle cannons slipped just past a wily Blitzkrieg, even as she took more impacts from the tanks above. Katarina knew that only luck would get her out of this.
She also knew that luck had never been on her side.
-----
-
“Fire!” Johan ordered, the Patton tank rocking as its Long Tom cannon let loose another round. The shot arced down over the ridge before slamming into an enemy Glory fire support tank, detonating against its armor in a ball of flame and shrapnel. A moment later, a Thunderbolt missile followed through, slamming into its side with another explosion. While damaged by the assault, the enemy tank was also clearly still operational and capable of returning fire. However, it also was limited in its options, with few places to go.
It was a microcosm of the battle as a whole. Daintz’ force had caught the newcomers as they advanced through a canyon, and had taken advantage of the opportunity to attack from the high ground. While their enemies clearly were better equipped, the plan was to simply overwhelm them with sheer weight of numbers from a superior position. And so far, it was working. While the enemy force were holding their ground better than expected, they could not last forever.
A PPC blast smashed into the Manticore next to his tank, flaying armor from its turret. A secondary explosion took out the missile launcher on the side, but regardless, it returned fire. Glancing around, he could see the source of the attack, a Warhammer in the middle of the enemy formation, shielded by other ‘Mechs around it. “That’s got to be their commander,” he considered. “Gunner, line it up.”
Might as well make sure, he told himself as he opened a command channel. “This is van der Kreil to artillery lead. I want a direct strike on my target. All guns.”
He’d only just gotten the affirmative before closing the connection, focusing again on the situation. A core of heavy and assault ’Mechs had formed up, backed by a ring of heavy tanks. It was a sound plan, attempting to neutralise his advantages by focusing fire and forcing any advance to smash hard into their defences. However, Johan was happy to simply batter them down with waves of opponents, using the weight of numbers to his advantage.
Explosions blossomed across the valley as artillery rounds hit home, none of them coming even close to the Warhammer, or even each other. “Bunch of bloody amateurs,” he muttered to himself at the inaccurate fire. His own cannon barked again, the shell finding its mark on its target.
“Don’t let up!” Daintz shouted as his Bandersnatch stepped forwards, its autocannons blazing away, scoring hits on the enemy Warhammer. “We have them!” The Warhammer returned fire, a pair of PPC hits staggering his ’Mech as they blasted armor from its front. The Bandersnatch managed to keep its footing, but slowed its advance.
Serves him right, van der Kriel thought as his crew fired again, sending another shell and Thunderbolt towards the enemy force. Moments later, another barrage of artillery fire rained down, with shots scattering across the valley, including up towards his line. “Watch fire!” He shouted over the command channel. “Do you bloody morons even have any idea what you’re doing?”
“We...” the reply started before degenerating into static.
“Say again?” He demanded.
“-are under at-“ it continued, managing to squeeze some words out between bursts of noise. “-hover-“
He quickly glanced at his tactical display, only to find a new mass of hostile red icons advancing into the rear of his force. Tags began to pop up, labelling them as hovercraft and VTOLs, their icons moving quickly as they ate into his force. “All units, we are under attack form rear flank! Come around!”
“What’s going on?” Daintz demanded.
“We’ve been stabbed in the back!” he yelled back as the Patton’s turret spun around to face the newcomers and assess the situation.
Already a group of hovercraft were tearing along the rear of his formation, spreading missile and laser fire into whatever targets presented themselves. Several VTOLs were supporting them, adding their own missiles to the assault while weaving in among return fire.
An LRM carrier erupted into flames as its ammunition detonated, tearing the vehicle apart from within. Moments later, a Phoenix Hawk leapt past the burning wreck, its PPC stabbing into the side of a Vedette tank. A Spider and Wasp joined it, spreading laser fire to whatever targets presented themselves as they jumped. He knew that the two light ‘Mechs couldn’t do much damage, but their mobility alone would make them hard to pin down.
“Who are they?” Daintz demanded.
“Give me a bloody moment,” he shot back as more contacts appeared on the screen. A row of medium and heavy BattleMechs were advancing from the south, taking advantage of the chaos caused by their vanguard. As he zoomed in, he could see that they were all wearing appropriate camouflage, save for one of them.
A distinctive red and black Marauder.
“Bloody hell...” he whispered, his throat dry.
“Your orders?” His gunner spoke up.
“Wipe them off the face of Esteros,” he managed. “Do it!”
There was a quick affirmative before the Patton rocked under the recoil of its weapons. The Long Tom shell landed near a Pegasus, sending the hovercraft into a spin before it crashed into a rocky outcropping. It was a small victory, but he’d take it. More fire joined his, even if it was scattered and uneven. He could see that many of his men were still engaged with their original targets, and were torn between his orders and their actual objective.
Daintz wheeled his Bandersnatch around, the broad-bodied BattleMech turning its attention towards the new arrivals. His autocannons scattered shot across the Marauder’s body, while a flight of missiles added to the damage. The Marauder seemed to simply shrug it off, before it returned fire.
Johan could almost see what was about to happen.
One of its two PPC bolts went wide. The second speared straight into the Bandersnatch’s head, drilling through the cockpit before the last of its energies spilled out the back.
-----
Kaitlyn Farris didn’t have any advance intelligence on the Mandragov force that the Iron Knights had just engaged, but she already knew that their leader was in the Bandersnatch that Iulia had just decapitated. Her friend and second had an uncanny ability to identify the commander of an enemy force and then eliminate them.
She had no doubt that the enemy force would be reeling from the loss of their commander, and she fully intended to take advantage of the situation. “All units, push hard!” she called out over the command channel. “Do not let up!” Her ’Mech stomped forwards, its heavy footfalls reverberating as it bore down on the enemy lines.
Ahead of her, the opposing force were doing their best to pull themselves together. Her advance force had already taken out their artillery, and had cut into their rear support elements before they could respond. Now they were caught between her force and their original targets, and likely were still trying to figure out their next move. Her job was to not give them that opportunity.
She opened fire with her Warhammer IIC’s twin PPCs, a wave of heat hitting her as the two weapons unleashed their hellish energies. A pair of artificial lighting bolts smashed into the side of an already damaged Manticore, devouring armour before incinerating the structure and vital systems within. On her sensors she could see a sudden spike of heat from its reactor before it shut down, taking the vehicle offline.
That’s one.
Her actions drew the attention of the enemy, with fire coming back in her direction. Autocannon shells and long-range missiles peppered her armor, rocking the Warhammer but not penetrating its thick hide. She shrugged it off, continuing her advance alongside the other ’Mechs of her unit. Behind her, Wotzel’s Catapult unleashed a rain of long-range missiles on the enemy force, while Vallaki’s Thunderbolt contributed its own weapons fire to the assault.
And Iulia’s Marauder simply followed them, contributing its own frighteningly accurate, long-range fire. Unlike all the other ’Mechs in the Iron Knights’ force that were wearing local camouflage, Iulia had kept it in its standard, red and black-striped scheme. She knew that her friend had reasons why she had made that choice, and Kait was not about to question them.
A Zhukov tank was pummelled by their attacks, its crew bailing out as black smoke began to pour from the vehicle. Behind it, a Schildkrote weathered an assault, even as its main gun was clearly knocked out of action. Several enemy BattleMechs, mostly medium models, began to stagger out of the canyon to face her unit, presumably aiming to combine fire and try to slow her force down.
One of them, a Lineholder, focused its fire on her, hoping to take advantage of the damage already done by its colleagues and the numbers she was facing. Missiles scattered damage across the Warhammer’s hull, while lasers further worried the armor. A Vedette and Demon chose to join in, adding their own lasers and autocannon fire to the mix. Kaitlyn was rocked in the cockpit as her ’Mech staggered under the impacts, but she weathered the storm.
She returned fire on the Lineholder, giving back far better than she got, even as she was again battered by the heat from her weapons. The twin PPCs smashed armor off the Lineholder’s dome-like body, while a pair of medium pulse lasers lashed it with brilliant green energy darts. The enemy BattleMech reeled under the assault, having just had nearly three tons of armor smashed away from it in seconds.
Seeing a chance, and ignoring the warnings from her own systems, Kaitlyn fired her jump jets. The Warhammer took to the air, twisting to keep the Lineholder within its sights while putting it between herself and the two tanks. The Demon immediately cut around to follow her, only to be hammered by fire from Iulia’s Marauder. One PPC tore into its side, smashing one of its wheels clean off its body and sending the medium tank into a spin.
Confident that she no longer had that to worry about, Kait opened fire again on the Lineholder. Her PPCs bored deep into its body and tore apart its boxy missile launcher, while the lasers lashed its body. Her missiles capitalised on the damage, tearing through the holes in the armor to strike at the vital systems within. To their credit, the Lineholder’s pilot managed to keep the ‘Mech on its feet through the assault, even if it was clear that it was struggling.
A warning from her BattleMech’s system grabbed Kaitlyn’s attention moments before two flights of missiles smashed into it. Several more alarms went off as the weapons penetrated her depleted armor, shattering several heat sinks. A glance around showed her the source of the attack, a Cobra that had managed to keep itself away from the battle. Seeing an opening, the battered Lineholder opened fire with its remaining weapons, the lasers carving more armor from the Warhammer’s front.
Before the Cobra could fire again, a PPC bolt tore through its back. A moment later, the entire side blew apart as its ammunition detonated, sending its arm flying off while the rest of the ‘Mech staggered. Badly damaged, the Cobra began to back off while behind it, Leon’s Phoenix Hawk gave her a brief nod.
With that threat removed, Kait turned her attention back towards the Lineholder. She opened up again, feeling the sweat beading on her brow as she unleashed her BattleMech’s arsenal on it. The strain was worth it, with the two PPCs smashing into the Lineholder’s chest, eagerly devouring the structure and the sensitive systems within. The BattleMech staggered for a moment before its dome-like head split open, the MechWarrior rocketing away on their ejection seat. Deprived of control, the Lineholder crashed backwards, its reactor shutting down.
Ahead of her, a battered Roughneck was pummelled by a volley of PPC fire that tore into its side, destroying its cannon. Next to it, a shot took the leg off a Burrower MiningMech MOD at the knee, knocking it down. Led by a battered but defiant Warhammer, a group of BattleMechs advanced out of the canyon, opening fire on the remaining Mandragov forces with a vengeful fury.
Now being pressured from both sides, the remaining forces began to break and run. A motley collection of BattleMechs and combat vehicles pulled away, firing less to kill and more to discourage any pursuit. “Give them an opening,” Kait ordered as she continued to fire while being careful not to advance too far. It wasn’t just that she didn’t want to corner the enemy forces or prolong the battle, but also because she still wasn’t sure what the other force was going to do. There was every chance that she had just ended one battle before starting another one.
Here we go, she told herself, taking a deep breath. “I am Major Kaitlyn Farris, commander of the Iron Knights,” she called out over her Warhammer’s speakers. "I have no desire to fight you. I think that we are, in fact, on the same side here.”
-----
In her Warhammer’s steaming hot cockpit, Katarina tried to catch her breath. She took a few seconds as the Clan-designed ’Mech alongside her turned and addressed her own. It was like Enkidu’s big brother; larger and more imposing, but very familiar in design. Was that a good omen? she thought.
“Orders?” Peyton asked, calm as ever.
“Drive them off. Don’t pursue,” she said curtly between pants. She loosened the collar on her flightsuit, glad for the instant relief. Still, she had left their saviours waiting long enough already.
“nu Banda Katarina Morrison, 2IC, Star of Sumer,” she finally said over her ‘Mech’s loudspeakers.
The was the briefest of pauses before the reply came. “nu Banda?”
“Captain,” Katarina said immediately, cursing inwardly. She had already ruined this. She could tell.
“Captain,” the Iron Knights’ commander replied.
Katarina finally calmed her breathing. She took another moment to compose herself, recalling what Kaitlyn had said. “And I believe you’re right. We’re tasked with liberating Alwaid from its warlord.”
“Dimitri Mandragov,” Farris replied. Her own Warhammer nodded in acknowledgement.
She was momentarily interrupted by a report from Peyton. Mandragov’s forces were in full retreat, and they had broken off pursuit as ordered. The clear distraction from the Iron Knights’ commander indicate that she was receiving the same news.
“Looks like the field is won,” Farris said. “Although I don’t think this has to be our last collaboration.”
“Agreed,” Katarina said, finally cracking a smile. “I’ll get you in touch with our commander. There’s a lot to sort out.”
-
Guest chapter by KayEmm and Zogster
Meet and Greet
Well here goes nothing. Kaitlyn Farris climbed out of the cockpit of her Warhammer IIC, clambering down the boarding ladder before reaching the ground. It was dry and parched rock, punctuated by patches of purple scrub, which served to complement the pale blue sky. Reminds me a lot of home, she considered.
She had done her best to look presentable under the circumstances, changing her cooling vest for a functional field jumpsuit. Her signature scarf was now wrapped around her head, helping to protect her against both the heat and the lack of ozone. Leon joined her, similarly attired, with Iulia just behind him. Her friend and second was looking decidedly sulky, dressed in a simple sleeveless shirt and fatigue pants topped with a jacket and a headscarf rather than her signature black leathers. It was a rare concession to practicality.
“You know we’re potentially letting them decapitate us in one go,” Leon commented. “I mean, I’d be fine with that if not for the fact that it leaves Buster next in the chain.”
“We need to do this,” she confidently replied. “They are potential allies. And, if nothing else, we just rescued them and they wanted to talk. That tells me a lot.”
“Besides, they feel honest,” Iulia added.
“Getting a vibe off of them?” Leon asked. “Or did your divination tell you that?”
“The latter,” she simply finished.
The DropShip before them had one of its doors open, the boarding ramp extended. Kaitlyn took the lead, heading up the ramp and inside to the ship’s cavernous ’Mech bay. Already their hosts were in the process of repairing their damaged machines. She slid her scarf back down to its usual spot around her neck as she looked around, her two colleagues doing the same. “Their DropShip looks a lot nicer than ours,” she considered.
“Low bar to clear,” Leon added.
While the signs of age around Ur’s cavernous BattleMech bays were clear to see, so was the care and attention to detail placed in its maintenance. Kaitlyn immediately spotted the battered Warhammer she had met on the field, alongside a BattleMaster that was further along in repairs, most likely from an earlier conflict.
A trio waited to greet them just inside the ’Mech bay. Each wore a crisp white uniform, no doubt intending to make a good first impression, while certainly proving a direct contrast to the Iron Knights’ mismatched, functional jumpsuits. The short-haired woman in the middle stood out however, both for her earnest smile and the heavy cast on her lower left leg. She hobbled forwards, leaning on a crutch and stated, “Welcome aboard.”
“Thank you for being willing to talk,” she simply acknowledged. “I am Major Kaitlyn Farris, commander of Farris’ Iron Knights. This is my second, Princess Iulia Dragan, and my aide, Lieutenant Leon Mackinaw.”
“And thank you for your assistance.” She extended a hand to shake, before gesturing to her companions. “Ugala Lana Kotovski, commander of the Star of Sumer. My second in command, nu Banda Katarina Morrison and aga’ush Jakub Day, recon lance commander.”
“We’ve met,” Katarina said, offering her own hand.
Kaitlyn took her hand and shook it, and then followed through with Katarina, a smile on her face. “I wish it could have been under better circumstances,” she admitted. “No less, thank you for being willing to talk and negotiate.” The ranks sounded odd to her, but Katarina had already explained her own. It didn’t take too much imagination to figure out what the other two titles meant.
“I can see why nu Banda Morrison was in charge of operations there,” Leon added.
“Oh…” Lana glanced down at the cast. “Don’t mind that. Braking thruster failure on a combat drop. It looks worse than it is.”
“We were hired by the Esteros Assembly, the legitimate ruling body of the world,” Kaitlyn explained. “Our mission was to restore order to the world after it descended into chaos following the Jade Falcon’s abandoning it. What we found was a continent full of warlords with their own surprisingly large private armies.”
“While we were loosely aware of your unit’s presence, we had no idea of where exactly you were or what you were doing here,” she continued. “But the fact that we have a common enemy tells us a lot.”
The Star’s commander nodded her understanding. “Accurate intel has been hard to come by with these emerging states. We came across a similar situation.” She gestured towards a nearby elevator. “I’ve set up a briefing in our command center, where I hope we can share our findings. Shall we?”
“Thank you,” Kaitlyn replied with a polite nod. “Lead on.”
With that, Lana turned and led the proceedings. The visitors drew few reactions from the workers as they passed by the towering BattleMaster. Off to one side, Kaitlyn saw the junior officer lean over to Katarina and whisper, “Is she really a princess?”
She also couldn’t help but notice that Iulia smiled for a moment before pausing in her step, looking up at one of the BattleMechs. “Is something wrong?” She asked.
“Maybe,” Iulia replied, staring at the BattleMaster. “I do not know.”
The short walk and elevator ride told Kaitlyn a few things, most of which amounted to confirming that the Ur was in far better shape than their own Union-class ship, the Red Son. And, if it wasn’t a newer ship, then at the very least it had been upgraded and overhauled relatively recently.
While Lana’s designation of her command center may have been overly generous, the converted meeting room they found themselves in was at least functional, and, Kaitlyn considered, again in better shape than its counterpart on her ship. A holotable dominated the room, while a bank of monitors overlooked the proceedings. The six of them assembled around the central table, with the two units’ representatives facing each other.
“Our unit was hired by the Alynia Mercantile League to restore trade from Esteros.” She tapped a few buttons on the holotable, bringing up a starmap of the surrounding systems. “They rely on supplies from this region to continue manufacturing, but everything’s been thrown into chaos in the vacuum created by the Jade Falcon departure. When we learned about the situation, we decided to break the warlords’ hold to prevent future disruptions.” If she caught the look of concern from her second in command, Lana didn’t show it.
Kait connected a datachip to the holotable before changing the display. An image of the continent floated over the table’s surface, its landmass a patchwork of different colors. “This is us here,” she explained as she indicated towards a red segment headed in from the western coast. “These territories are the ones we have reclaimed from the warlords. They’re now being secured by peacekeeping troops sent by the Esteros Assembly from Alkahera.”
Lana stepped in to tap a couple of controls, highlighting the northwestern point of the continent. “Our unit made landing here, which is where we also got an update of the situation.”
Kaitlyn returned to the controls. Another touch of the button covered much of the continent’s center in orange. “This is the territory that we know is controlled by Dimitri Mandragov, the warlord who’s forces we just faced. He has his capitol here in Tirana, right in the middle of it.” She indicated to one of the cities. “He styles himself as a liberator and fighting for the people, but from what we’ve seen, he’s little more than a petty tyrant.”
“From what you said, it’s likely that it was his forces that you faced when you landed,” she continued. A brief nod from Lana confirmed her suspicions. “Which is the big problem. From what we can tell, Mandragov has at least a battalion of BattleMechs, and a regiment of tanks and other armored vehicles. On top of that, he has support forces made up of conventional infantry, IndustrialMechs and other units.”
“The ones we faced at the mine seemed to be more of a reserve force,” Katarina added. “Mostly industrial mods and security ’Mechs. That’s more of what we expected to face than the forces we saw today.”
“Between what we faced in Baret and what was here today, we figure that we’ve destroyed or disabled about a company of ’Mechs,” Leon noted. “But that doesn’t solve our big two problems. Number one is, of course, the numerical disparity. They were probably trying to kill you with the sheer weight of numbers there.”
“Number two is something even more worrying,” he continued. “As you probably figured, there shouldn’t be that many ’Mechs on Esteros at all, and you’d be right. From what we’ve been able to tell through questioning PoWs, including a former warlord who was very willing to give up everything, they have been supplied by an unknown offworld party for reasons that we can only guess at.” He offered a shrug. “Wish I could tell you more, but that’s what I have.”
Lana nodded her understanding. “I wouldn’t be surprised if the forces at the mine were set aside after this influx of new supplies.”
“The upside of it is that Mandragov doesn’t have any aerospace assets, nor any way to move his forces en-masse like DropShips or the like,” Leon noted. “The downside is that between our two units, we’re probably now his top priorities to kill.”
“The rest of the continent is divided up between other, smaller warlords,” Kait added. “Most of them have much smaller armies than Mandragov’s and largely have survived by staying out of his way. On top of that, there’s issues with bandits and the like, as well as a rogue mercenary unit that is still unaccounted for. All that we know is that it’s somewhere in the eastern half of the continent.”
Lana took a long moment to look at the map in silence, before giving a solemn nod. “Thank you for everything you’ve shared. That's filled a lot of holes in the situation. And there’s definitely more going on here than we first thought.”
She looked up, directly at Kaitlyn. “But mostly I want to thank you for coming to our aid. You put your unit on the line for the sake of strangers, and for that I’m in your debt.”
Kaitlyn offered a small smile back. “We had a common enemy, and I was not going to simply hang your people out to dry,” she admitted. “Ironically, your presence had helped us by pulling Mandragov’s forces away from us. So I guess that we were repaying the favor.”
“The question then is how to proceed,” Lana began. “It seems we have a shared objective, and a common enemy in our way. From what you’ve gathered of his forces, Mandragov likely has more under his command than either of us could handle separately. So I propose an alliance. Our two units work together to bring peace to Esteros. The Star of Sumer is ready to stand by your side.”
Iulia leaned in to Kaitlyn. “They speak true,” she quietly whispered into her ear. “Their words are honest, and their hearts match.”
“Good to know,” Kaitlyn gave a small nod back, before returning to the trio. “I agree with you entirely, Ugala Kotovski,” she spoke. “We consolidate our forces and work together towards removing Mandragov as a threat, while sharing intelligence, pooling supplies and the like”
“I’m sure we can work out some deal regarding salvage and the like,” Leon added. “We were getting a lot of our pay in that form. But on the other side, we’ve had a lot more salvage to collect than we’d expected, so there is that.”
Kaitlyn glanced down over the map before pointing out several locations. “Based on what we know, the survivors of that force likely pulled back towards Abbeville here. However, I wouldn’t be surprised if they withdrew further in order to link up with other forces. I think that it should be our first target; maybe we’ll have a fight, maybe we’ll simply be securing it.”
“I have a man who can help us,” Iulia offered. “A scout, of sorts. I can send him ahead to assess the situation. He is, after all, how we found you.”
“Maybe we can move up our own ships,” Leon offered. “Create a mutual forward base and the like.”
Lana nodded to Leon. “Agreed. I feel our mobility will be our greatest asset. I don’t have the same recon forces that you do, but what we have is at your disposal.”
She returned her attention to Kaitlyn. “I think we’ve got a solid foundation to work from. It’ll take us a bit to get back to strength after this scrap, but that’s time we can use to plan ahead and prepare.” Lana straightened up, and extended her hand across the table. “I’m looking forward to working with you, Major Farris.”
-
Kaitlyn stood on a catwalk, overlooking Ur’s massive repair bay. The Star of Sumer’s BattleMechs stood spread out beneath her, all showing signs of their recent conflicts. Her presence here was as much about gathering information as collecting her thoughts and figuring what she and her unit would be doing from here. Allies will help, she told herself. But we are still up against a lot.
Both Leon and Iulia were engaged in their own work, trying to gather information in their own way. She knew that Leon would be more at home with these mercenaries, simply because he had more connection to their pasts and backgrounds that she did; the everyman versus the island. Conversely, she knew that whatever Iulia was doing - and she wasn’t going to think too hard about it - would also be helpful.
A noise behind her drew her attention. The Star’s second in command approached, with a pair of bottles between her fingers and holding two glasses in her other hand. “Major Farris,” she said. “I never got a chance to properly thank you for helping me out on the field. Care for a drink?”
Kaitlyn turned to her and nodded. “nu Banda Morrison,” she managed with a smile. “I’d like that, thank you.”
“Gin from a distillery on Sudeten. Not the easiest to get a hold of, but well worth it.” She indicated further down the catwalks with a nod of her head. “I’ve got a spot, if you’d like.”
“Lana sends her regards. I’m sure she’d join us,” Katarina paused for a moment and raised her voice. “If she wasn’t determined to work herself to death.”
The faint response of “Love you too,” echoed down the corridors. Katarina gave a solitary chuckle. Kaitlyn couldn’t help but smile too.
Her spot turned out to be an out-of-the-way overlook, well above the work and noise but still with a grand view of the ’Mech bay below. Curiously enough, a pair of old armchairs had been maneuvered into position and bolted to the floor. Kaitlyn could only imagine it was easier to accomplish in microgravity as she looked around, noting the differences between the layout of the Ur and her own ship. The two ships may have been both Unions, but both had lived very different lives.
It was a pattern that she was seeing a lot of.
Katarina dropped into position and poured into both glasses. She offered one to Kaitlyn, then raised her own. “To new alliances.”
Kait sat and took the glass. “To the unexpected,” she replied with a similar gesture, before taking a sip.
“I was impressed by your people at the briefing, and in the field.” Katarina said. “That says a lot about their commander.”
Kaitlyn smiled a little in reply. “Your people are equally as capable,” she simply replied. After a thoughtful pause, added. “I have to say, it seems a bit weird that you had a junior officer at your command meeting.”
“Jakub?” Katarina asked. When Kait nodded, she said “That’s… a bit of a story, actually.”
“We’ve got time,” Kaitlyn replied, lifting her drink.
“Alright. So what you’ve got to understand is that this is sort of three different mercenary commands. The Star of Sumer, the Comets and the Evil Eye all worked together in the latter stages of the Jihad and, as happens, all got pretty savaged in the fighting. So by the end of it, they decide to unite under one command.”
“The Star was the largest component and had most of its infrastructure intact - like our old DropShip - but the others still brought their commanders and their own family traditions. So they set up a sort of power sharing thing where the unit’s overall commander would be from one of those three families. The idea was that each company in the unit was run by the heads of those families, and they would all be MechWarriors to someday take over the unit.”
“So you, Jakub and Lana are the current heads of those families?” Kait asked.
Katarina weighed her words for a moment. “Basically. Traditionally, Jakub would have taken company command as soon as he became a MechWarrior.”
“But saner heads prevailed,” Kaitlyn offered.
“Mostly Jakub’s. Lana and I understand he’s going to be the unit’s next commander, but he wants to earn it, you know?” Katarina leaned back and cast her gaze to the DropShip’s ceiling. “I figure most family mercenary commands have their silly traditions, but I kind of hope others don’t have it as bad as us.”
Kait sat back on her seat, considering what to say for a moment before finally opening up. “I know what you mean,” she spoke as she fidgeted with her glass. “Blackstone’s Iron Knights were always led by a member of the Blackstone family. Their second was always a member of the Farris family. From what I know, it’s an arrangement that goes back to their pre-mercenary origins over two centuries ago. Blackstone was the head of a noble house, and Farris was the leader of their personal guard”
“The Iron Knights worked for the Word during the Jihad,” she continued. Katarina’s face was carefully impassive at that news. “Morgan Blackstone, their leader at the time, stayed loyal until the last days of the Protectorate. Then, probably realizing that he had no other way out, he chose to run and took the unit to the Periphery out by the ruins of the old Rim Worlds Republic.”
“They survived for the next...” Kait trailed off as she tried to figure it out in her head, “Well let’s just say it was a long time as low-rent mercs and sometimes pirates. The unit remained under the command of a Blackstone aided by a Farris all along, something that helped maintain stability and stopped it from falling apart altogether.”
“My family were very much aware of their place in the unit and the idea of continuity. I was raised with the intent that I would continue that role and my family line. My parents even arranged a marriage for me that would bring the unit a powerful ally. That, uh, did not quite work out.” Her tone suggested that there was a lot more that she wasn’t saying, but was still trying to be circumspect about it. Katarina nodded her understanding.
Kait offered a weak smile. “And then things fell apart,” she admitted. “There aren’t any Blackstones left and, well, I’m the last Farris. I, uh, had to take control of the unit after things went bad in a really, really messy way. People rallied behind me and saw me as the best chance to keep the unit going, even though I was not at a good place myself. I wound up falling into command because of my family name and past.”
“And, uh, that’s how I ended up here,” she finished. “I mean, I kind of grew into the role, and I like to think that I’m doing a decent job of it. But it’s not like I really had that much of a choice in the matter.” She shrugged. “But I can’t just abandon that responsibility either.”
“And I suppose everyone expects you to continue that family, right?” Katarina asked, understanding clear in her voice.
Kait sighed before continuing. “Unfortunately, I can’t have children of my own for… various reasons,” she explained. “It’s something I long ago accepted and chose to live with. And while Lady Dragan - Iulia - has offered to act as a surrogate for me, she’s also got her own reasons. Trust me, it’s a huge mess.”
“I’m sorry, I..” Katarina trailed off, her face flushed with embarrassment. “I probably shouldn’t have asked.” She avoided Kaitlyn’s gaze for a moment, instead sipping on her drink. “That can’t be easy, what with all the expectations on you.”
Kaitlyn shrugged it off. “It’s fine. You don’t need to apologize.” She paused a moment. “There’s… things going on that are beyond my control, and I have, uh, considered options. I think that’s the best way to put it.” She took another sip from the gin, enjoying the flavor.
“How about yourself, if you don’t mind my asking?” She asked. “I can imagine that complicated family politics has put a lot of pressure on you there. Although, you mentioned that you and Lana were the heads of your families. I suppose that also has a little more flexibility than being the last of it.” She took another sip from her drink. “This is good, by the way. You have great taste.”
“Thanks,” Katarina said, raising her own glass. “No, it’s…” She chewed on her lip for a moment, trying to find the words. “I feel kinda selfish in saying that I don’t really want to have kids of my own. The kind of expectations around these traditions make family feel more like an obligation than anything, and it really shouldn’t. I practically raised Jakub after he lost his dad, and it almost feels like I’ve done my part for that, you now?”
She spared Kaitlyn a sheepish glance. “Probably not what you wanted to hear. I just… Sometimes I wonder just who we’re following these traditions for. Everyone expects these things from us, and I get that it keeps people happy, but at some point you’ve just got to be a bit selfish and do what’s right for you.” She gave it a moment’s thought and added “So I’m happy letting things stop at me. Uh.. I know that’s not what people want, but well, tough.”
“So what makes you happy?”
Kaitlyn blinked a moment before she spoke again. “So this is going to sound weird, but the truth is that I kind of like, well, learning about the Inner Sphere and its people.” She gave another sigh before continuing. “I grew up on a dying world out in the Periphery. It had a small population and was isolated, with little interstellar traffic or trade. There wasn’t an HPG either, even before the Blackout. And on top of that, I was raised in an isolated community on that world. So you know, a remote part of a remote place.”
“I knew that the Inner Sphere existed, and that it had hundreds of worlds,” she explained. “But at the same time, I really didn’t know much about it. When we arrived on Kandersteg, I was amazed by just how advanced the world was, and how heavily populated it was. And then I got told that its hundred-million population was low by Inner Sphere standards.”
“So that’s what I do,” she finished. “I try to learn what I can so I’m less of an obvious fish out of water.”
Katarina raised her glass with a smirk. “And you might as well get paid to do it.”
“Might as well,” Kaitlyn smiled back.
Katarina took a long pull and settled back into her armchair. She looked over at the woman sitting next to her, and couldn’t help but smile. There was a strength to Kaitlyn Farris, one that Katarina felt would not buckle no matter how much she bore on her shoulders. It would have been too easy to abandon the Star in the field, letting Mandragov’s forces crash against them until both were shattered. Instead the Major had gambled on Katarina’s forces, and it seemed they had both won.
“To allies,” she said in the end, raising her glass once more.
-
Iulia was quietly whispering to herself, repeating a chant over and over again as she worked. Slowly and carefully she was walking around the BattleMaster, doing her best to keep it at a distance from her as she walked backwards in a crouch, tracing a circle around the BattleMech in chalk.
Jakub watched nervously from a distance. For as long as he could remember, rumours had circled around Gilgamesh. Members of the Star had all kinds of ideas about it; that it was cursed, that it wanted vengeance for its capture or that it extracted a toll for its victories. Jakub had never known quite what to believe, but to see this newcomer respond in such a way unsettled him.
Which was when he realised that he was being watched. Without stopping in her movement or her chant, Iulia glanced up at the young MechWarrior. Their eyes locked for a moment before Jakub looked away. Unperturbed, the witch returned her focus to her work.
He cautiously approached as she finished up, closing the circle. Standing, she looked up at the BattleMech, her eyes narrowed. “That will hold you for now,” she simply finished, before glancing towards Jakub.
“Hey…” He said nervously, glancing between Iulia and the circle she had completed. “Jakub Day. We - I was in the meeting.”
“Captain Iulia Dragan,” she simply replied, turning back from the BattleMaster.
“I’ve never seen anyone do something like that before. It’s… Well, can I ask what that was?”
“There is a curse on this BattleMech,” she explained. “I am drawing a protective circle to contain it.”
She carefully watched his reaction, gauging his feelings. Of everything that passed across his face, surprise was not amongst them. He took a moment before he said “That… makes sense.” Iulia gave him a moment to continue. “People have always said there was something about Gilgamesh.”
“Tell me.”
“It’s been with the unit forever, but people always seem to get hurt piloting it. Lana’s been hurt a lot.”
His voice turned quiet for a moment, but he pressed on. “Our last two commanders were killed piloting it as well.”
“Interesting,” she nodded. “And yet, it makes sense. That is what it felt like to me.” She paused, with something else on her mind. She tilted her head for a moment as she looked at Jakub.
“Lots of people with the Star say it’s cursed. But how did you know?”
“I am a witch,” she simply replied.
Jakub blinked in surprise. “Wow, that’s…that’s cool,” he said, with genuine enthusiasm. “Have you seen something like this before?”
“Sort of,” she considered. “Not a BattleMech. I did once travel to a cursed world. That place was… not good at all. I am glad we did not linger there.”
“I don’t think I’ve met a witch before,” Jakub said. “I mean, not that I know.”
“My mother was a witch,” she explained. “As was her mother before her, and her mother before that. She trained me in her arts.”
Jakub nodded. “But Kaitlyn introduced you as ‘Princess.’ So are you a princess as well?”
“My mother is the queen of our world,” Iulia stated, factually.
“A witch queen?” Jakub asked. All manner of images from bad fantasy holos flashed through his head, but he shook them away. “I mean…I don’t want to presume, but wouldn’t you have, um, princess duties? How come you’re out here?”
“I am the favored of my mother’s daughters,” she explained. “Not only was I the first, but I also had the strongest magic.” That last part was said with more than a little satisfaction. Iulia smiled a little. “It is…complicated. But my place is with the Iron Knights.”
“Wow.” He paused, taking in what was before him. Out of nowhere, one of their new allies had stepped forward to help with a long-standing problem within the unit. And while what she was saying was almost unbelievable, he had no reason to doubt her intentions.
“How do I help?” he asked.
She looked thoughtful for a moment. “Much of my magic is helped by knowledge.”
Jakub looked down for a moment. “I admit, I don’t know anything about magic. And I know that this is a dangerous profession. People are going to get hurt and killed.” He looked up once more, meeting Iulia’s gaze. “But if there’s anything I can do to stop that, however small it is, I want to.”
Iulia smiled warmly. “Whatever knowledge you can share helps,” she explained. “Like this BattleMech. It was not on the battlefield, but also neither was your commander due to her injury. I then assume this is her ’Mech.”
Jakub nodded. “It is. It usually goes to the commander. It’s our biggest ’Mech, but it’s also sort of a tradition.”
“Can you tell me more about it? Does it have…” she considered her words. “A history?”
He looked up at the towering war machine, pondering his words for a moment. “I guess you could say that.” He returned his attention to Iulia with a nod. “It’s been with the Star for about as long as the unit’s been around. Way I heard it, our first commander Larissa shot the BattleMaster’s head off and captured it. She called it Gilgamesh. The unit had this theme around Sumerian mythology; it was a big thing of hers.”
“I had noticed,” Iulia nodded.
“It’s passed through a number of hands, but it’s always at the forefront of our battles. And uh…well, there’s a lot of records of pilots getting hurt and killed in it. Lana thinks it’s just statistics, but Katarina’s worried it’s going to kill her some day.” He looked away, uncertain.
“And what do you believe?” Iulia asked, examining the young man closely,
“I don’t really know,” Jakub replied. “I never really thought about magic before… Um, no offense,” he added sheepishly.
“No, it is understandable. Everyone has their own beliefs,” she stated. “And mine are… not common, yes.”
“I want to believe that Lana’s right, that it’s just a target for being our biggest ’Mech. But it feels like it’s something more. Like, right down in my gut.” He shrugged. “Mostly I just…I want to be able to do something. I want to try and help, do whatever I can to keep, uh…” He trailed off, his courage seemingly failing.
“Keep the people you love safe.”
Jakub blinked in surprise. Iulia’s words had cut straight to his heart, saying exactly what he had felt. He nodded wordlessly.
“Come. There may be something you can do.”
-----
It was a crude thing nestled in Jakub’s hands, but one that had been assembled with great care. Iulia had guided him to collect its materials, both throughout Ur and in the surrounding wilderness.
“The bird that had injured Lana was much like an albatross,” Iulia had explained as they gathered parts for their construction. “It was an omen for travelers back on Earth. Though the worlds are different and the forms do change, the nature of things that leads a witch to them remains the same throughout space.”
And so they had collected what they needed. Small twigs from a particular tree, a polished stone from the bottom of stream and a purplish leaf with a curious, serrated edge. But there were more personal things too; a wad of Isaías’ gum, a plastic strand from a medical bracelet and one of Katarina’s hair ties. They had even dug up Archie, the plush toy Archer that Jakub hadn’t seen in years to incorporate a piece of his loose stuffing.
And so he held the results in his hands, a small, roughly assembled figure. With its broad chest and smooth stone for a face, he couldn’t help but think it resembled a BattleMaster.
“What now?”
“You should place it in the cockpit.” Iulia nodded to Gilgamesh’s impassive dome ahead of them. “Somewhere secure, but visible.”
And so he did. It was a simple matter to open up the cockpit and clamber inside. Iulia watched from out on the catwalk, being careful not to step within a particular radius of the ’Mech.
By the time he was done, Major Farris had found her second. Jakub emerged to see the pair of them talking quietly. He straightened up as he approached and shot Kaitlyn a salute.
“Major.”
“aga’ush,” she replied, returning the salute. She turned back to Iulia and said “We should be going.”
Jakub and Iulia both nodded their own responses. Jakub added “Of course. Pleasure to meet you.” He turned to Iulia and said, in a far less formal manner, “And…thanks.”
Kaitlyn watched the young man retreat before turning back to her friend. “What have you been up to?” She asked, her tone more curious than accusing.
“We were making a totem,” she stated, matter-of-factly.
Kaitlyn nodded her understanding. “That doesn’t seem quite like you.”
“No,” the witch pondered for a moment. “But I think giving is his magic.”
-
Guest chapter by KayEmm
From the personal journal of Lewis Guise
I don’t want to sound like I’m congratulating myself, but things have worked out pretty well for us so far. I’ve done a lot to dig us out of the hole that Russel put us in thanks to a little bit of creative planning and adapting to a changing situation.
We set ourselves up in southern Alwaid where there was nobody else operating. Our scouts were able to get a good lay of the land and what was going on, which helped me to plan our operations. A few attacks and some impressive shows of force later, and we had established ourselves as a power to be reckoned with. The towns around Svboda were bought under our protection, in exchange for which they paid us tribute. Simple. We’ve clashed a few times with bandits or other small time groups, but all they have is Industrial MODs or light tanks. Hell, I managed to convince a few to join us to pad out our ranks; I guess they just know good leadership when they see it.
I’d developed a contingency plan against if Mandrogov ever got wind of what we were doing and decided to come after us. It was simple; we load up the dropships and leave. He doesn’t have any aerospace at all (that hag Sigonella’s intel was good for something after all) so it’s not like he can chase after us or the like. Then we just land somewhere else and start over. Simple. And if all else fails, we still have our pre-booked Jumpship coming.
Not that I think Mandragov is interested in coming after us right now. Greene’s been intercepting communications that make it clear that he’s got problems of his own to deal with, in the form of the same mercs that we fought earlier. I’m happy to leave them to it; just means more opportunities for us while everyone is fighting, and if they killed each other then I wouldn’t shed a single tear.
There is something that I am concerned about though. We haven’t had any contact with Olegi’s forces in a week. Normally we kept our distance and let each other be, with the mountains serving as a handy barrier. Now I’m wondering if something hasn’t happened to him. And while that would be good for us by removing a rival, it also could be a threat.
And I’m not ready to give up what I have quite yet.
-
The Byelestok War
While most histories of the Esteros civil war focus on Dimitri Mandragov, he was far from the only warlord involved in the factitious battles for Alwaid. Nor was every battle centred around him, either in his conquests or those efforts aimed at removing him from power. Ruhi Panja and Christoforo Salera were two of the ‘lesser’ warlords of Esteros who fought their own wars and had their own impact on the planet’s history. And while it is tempting to simply dismiss them as a sideshow to the main campaign, both still had their own impacts on the overall situation.
Before the Jade Falcon invasion, Ruhi Panja had been a middle manager overseeing mining operations. Her skill won her a place in the Clans’ resource extraction operations in a supervisor role, effectively conscripted into the Merchant Caste. Despite a decade of loyal and efficient service, she was left behind when the Clan abandoned the world. Fearing that she would become a target for recrimination due to her collaboration, she and a group of fellow administrators banded together for protection. Her combination of charisma and management skill allowed her to soon build a small army and carve out territory around the city of Luknow in northern Alwaid.
Conversely, Christoforo Salera had been a member of the Markov family’s noble guard. Having survived the invasion, he went to ground rather than risk capture and execution. While he claimed that he led a resistance movement during the occupation, no evidence has yet been found to verify this. Following the Clan’s departure from the world, he emerged and attempted to reclaim the Markov family holdings, despite the functional extinction of the line. By playing to nostalgia and old loyalties, he was able to recruit his own followers, and soon controlled territories centred on the city of Borgovia.
Both Panja and Salera’s armies were initially made up of infantry with some converted civilian vehicles and IndustrailMechs for support. However, both would soon receive ‘donations’ from the same source that had been arming Mandragov and the other warlords. Now equipped with combat vehicles and even a few BattleMechs, both became emboldened and began to expand their territories.
Their forces inevitably met outside of the town of Byelestok, with Panja claiming it by the simple expedient of reaching it first. Not content with letting this situation stand, and confident in his own augmented forces, Salera ordered an assault to seize the town. Panja’s forces were unprepared and, after a short battle, chose to abandon the town and withdraw back further into her territory. Emboldened, Salera drove his forces onwards, claiming several smaller towns while driving Panja further back.
Biding her time, Panja did her best to consolidate her own forces before launching a counter-offensive of her own. With Salera’s forces over-extended and spread out, she was able to push back most of his gains with relatively low losses. She then launched her own attack on Byelestok, taking the town despite determined resistance, effectively pushing back Salera’s forces to where they had been to start with. However, she was not content with this outcome. Having seized the initiative, she pushed further into Salera’s holdings.
As Salera was reorganising his forces and trying to plan what amounted to a counter-counter offensive, a new threat emerged. Mandragov chose to take advantage of the situation, and struck at his holdings, capturing the towns of Gurav and Malar. Not only did this move cost Salera a considerable portion of his already depleted forces, but it also opened his capitol at Borgovia to attack. Realising just how exposed he was, Salera negotiated a hasty cease-fire with Panja, one that essentially recognized all her successes and succeeded the captured territory, Beyelestok included, to her.
While doubtless tempted to finish off Salera, Panja no doubt recognised the full extent of the situation. She agreed to the ceasefire, essentially allowing her former enemy to survive as a buffer state between her holdings and Mandragov’s own advance. This move gave her time to consolidate her forces and her conquests, and prepare for what she saw as an inevitable invasion from the more powerful Warlord’s army. Ironically, by essentially using Salera as a shield, she instead ensured his survival.
- From Esteros Burning, Galatea Free Press
-
Guest chapter by KayEmm and Zogster
Reapers and Demons
DropShip Inferno
Outside Sbvoda, Alwaid
Esteros
One of the many things that annoyed Lewis Guise was the two DropShips that he had at his disposal. The Terror carried their BattleMechs and, as such, was the ship he normally travelled in and operated from. However, as a Trojan-class blockade runner it lacked the sophisticated command facilities of their troop carrier, the Triumph-class Inferno. So while his BattleMech was being serviced on one ship, he had to hold conference on-board the other.
Right now he was in the Inferno’s command centre, itself a feature that only added to his dislike of the ship. Like everything else on the Inferno, it was worn and battered, with the systems running on patches, bypasses and jury-rigging that had lasted well past the point where they should have been replaced. With him were his senior officers, several of which had reached that position by simply surviving the Fulda debacle. “So what did you find?” he asked, his tone wary.
“Olegi’s been removed from the picture,” Lieutenant Greene replied. Lanky to the point of gaunt, the right side of his face was dominated by blotchy, discolored patches of skin and missing hair, the result of a long-ago coolant accident. He’d hastily thrown a jumpsuit on over his MechWarrior shorts before arriving. “With another force taking his place and looting his holdings.”
He pressed several buttons on the holotable. After a moment, images resolved themselves, depicting BattleMechs and armored vehicles in among a coastal city. “I counted a company of ’Mechs, at least two of which were assaults, along with supporting vehicles.” The display cycled between different images of the unknown force.
“Your thoughts?” Guise asked.
“I don’t think these are the same mercenaries we fought in Fulda,” Marko responded. Tall and heavyset, prominent scars decorated his shaved head. Between those lost at Fulda through death, capture or Dispossession, he had effectively become Guise’s second in command. “The composition is different. I do not see the Warhammer or Marauder, for example.”
“Exactly my thoughts,” Guise nodded. “Besides, aren’t they engaged with Mandragov’s forces on the other side of the continent?”
“They could have relocated,” Greene noted. “But it seems unlikely.”
“You’re right there,” Guise nodded. “Could be pirates.”
“If so, they are taking their time with the situation rather than just leaving,” Marko offered. “I think that they are mercenaries, here as a part of a contract. What we are seeing is their consolidating their landing position before continuing their advance.”
“Hm, that does make sense,” Guise nodded as he looked over the map of the continent. What had been Olegi’s territories were presently highlighted, with the Demons’ position being just outside of that area. “Do you think they are aware of us?”
“I don’t think so, sir,” Greene replied. “While I think they were in the process of consolidating, I don’t think they’re planning to move against us. Rather, I’d imagine that their objectives are the mines at Skpo or something else in that region.”
“Which will bring them into conflict with Mandragov,” Guise noted, rubbing his chin in consideration.
“That would be the most likely outcome, yes,” Greene nodded.
“So do you know what I see here?” Guise asked before answering his own question. “An opportunity.”
“How so?” Marko narrowed his thick brows.
Guise circled around the map. “Despite the problems that Mandragov’s having in the west, these newcomers are still going to be outnumbered," he noted. "And they’re going to be advancing into unfamiliar territory.” He looked up and grinned. “So we offer our aid to them. Give them a boost to their forces and local expertise, in exchange for a cut of what they’re getting.”
There was a pause before Marko finally spoke. “An interesting idea. Do you think they will go for it?”
“They’d have to,” Guise nodded. “They’d be fools not to.”
“I agree entirely,” Greene added.
“So here’s the plan,” Guise had announced to his command staff. “We mount up and approach this unknown force to introduce ourselves.”
There had been an awkward silence from his officers before Marko had finally spoken. “Do you not think that is a risk?” He asked. “What if they are ready for us?”
“If they’re smart, they will be willing to listen to us and talk,” He explained. “Picking a fight with us is going to be a battle they don’t want or need, one that will cost them resources that they probably don’t want to spend. They also know that we have a common enemy, and that they’d get nothing from fighting us.” He smiled. “Besides which, Greene said they weren’t aware of us.”
Greene shuffled, realising that he was suddenly in the spotlight. “That’s correct,” he nodded. “Their forces are spread out around Chort, and they aren’t mustering for an attack. If they wanted to attack us, well, then we would see it.”
Guise nodded, glad that he’d shifted the attention to Greene and off of himself. His recon lance commander had done a good job of both defusing the tension and reinforcing Guise’s own position. “I suppose so,” Marko grumbled.
“We have the advantages here,” Guise continued. “We can play our local knowledge and make ourselves invaluable to them. And they’re going to have to play along.” He smiled. “Play our cards right and we could win over a few of them to us, especially if they’ve got an unpopular commander or are stuck in a dud contract.”
He smiled to himself. We have this.
—
Even from the crest of the hill through her binoculars, Violetta could only make out the blurry top of the distant DropShip. The Trojan’s tip poked out from between the far-off ridges, hiding as best as three thousand tons of ship could. Clicking her tongue in frustration, she lowered her binoculars and turned from the vantage point, starting down the hill.
The situation seemed to keep getting worse. First Demos had broadened the scope of their contract, then they had all but blundered across another unit in their way. While Chort had been good to them, pickings were otherwise slim on this backwater continent of a backwater world. And now it seemed like another needless battle was ahead of them.
She picked her way through the lavender scrub back to the road where her unit’s mobile HQ was parked. Maeve stood by the vehicle’s rear entrance, fanning herself. Her company commander was unusually quiet, and Violetta thought she saw a furrow of concern under Maeve’s head wrap. Violetta caught her gaze and held it for a moment. For now at least, they shared their worries.
“Yasir just returned,” Maeve said simply. She gestured to the quad ATV stopped by the front of the MHQ. “He’s inside with Jackson.”
“Much as I hate to break up such good friends,” Violetta started. She smirked as she saw Maeve roll her eyes at her commander. That was more like it. “But we should probably find out what we’re dealing with.”
“After you,” Maeve said, gesturing towards the door with a sweeping bow. Violetta strode up the ramp past her, and opened the hatch for the pair of them to enter. Jackson straightened up as Violetta stepped inside, towering over the young man seated beside him. For his part, Yasir didn’t so much as stand. Violetta couldn’t help but smile at his disrespect.
With an exaggerated gasp of relief, Maeve unwrapped her headdress and ran her hands through her short hair. Violetta followed suit, taking her time to remove the stuffy garment. Another thing she was growing to dislike about this planet.
She spared a glance to Demos, lounging in the background of the MHQ’s command center, feigning disinterest. He’d taken to sitting in on briefings, just to keep himself in the loop. So far, Violetta didn’t mind, as long as he didn’t make himself an obstruction. Instead she turned to the young man who’d once stowed away on the Torquemada. He’d proven himself an adaptable scout, especially since Violetta hadn’t given him much choice in the matter.
“So what have we got?” She asked.
Yasir finally stood and saluted. “As per initial reports, the encampment centers around two DropShips, a Triumph and a Trojan. Units had disembarked. We counted two lances of BattleMechs and two lances of combat vehicles.”
“Disembarked?” Maeve asked.
“They know we’re nearby,” Yasir responded.
“Mandragov doesn’t have DropShips,” Demos said from his back corner. When Violetta shot him a glance, he raised his hands defensively. “Just an observation.”
“He’s right,” Jackson added, to which their commander nodded.
“So who are they?” Maeve asked of Yasir.
The young man looked around nervously. “We… can’t confirm. But we did spot a consistent insignia on their units, a roaring demon.”
“Sounds like more mercenaries. Since Esteros doesn’t have enough of them yet,” Maeve observed dryly.
“Question is, what are they doing here?” Violetta asked of nobody in particular.
“Not a lot,” came Maeve’s response. “We first observed them raiding nearby towns for supplies. Not the kind of thing you bring an armed force to a former Jade Falcon world for.”
“So something’s definitely gone wrong there,” Violetta said. She pondered for a moment, then asked Yasir, “Were you spotted?”
“No, ma’am. It looks like they were preparing equipment but not marshaling for battle.”
“Taking a defensive posture?” Maeve suggested. “Probably expect us to attack them.”
Violetta shook her head. “With their transport assets, they could be long gone before we get there. And even if they wanted a fight, they wouldn’t risk their DropShips. No, this is a fight they don’t need. And even if we outnumber them, it’s a fight we don’t need either.”
“Doesn’t have to be one,” Demos butted in once more. This time all eyes turned to the portly man. He ambled up to the meeting table to join the others. “See, no part of this report says to me ‘we love Mandragov.’ And of course, being the enemy of our enemy…”
“He’s got a point,” Maeve said before Violetta could even respond. “The situation’s a lot bigger than we thought, and we could use the help. Even you’ve got to admit that,” she finished with a smirk.
Violetta took a moment to fix Maeve with a blistering glare, but even that didn’t wipe the smile from her company commander’s face. Instead she addressed the table as a whole. “Alright. It sounds like they’ll be open to discussion. At best, we get new allies with a better feel for the situation, and at worst we get a good idea of just who we’re dealing with. Nice work, kid.”
Violetta reached over and ruffled Yasir’s hair. The young scout immediately lashed out, knocking her hand away. The whole room froze in a tableau, with the two staring each other down. It took Yasir a moment to realise Jackson was ready to pounce. He forced himself to back down, watching the room relax around him.
Violetta addressed the room, keeping her eyes fixed on Yasir. “Alright. If they want to talk, we can talk. Get the troops together. Let’s show them we’re one big happy family.”
-----
-
Major Lewis Guise had quickly mustered the Screaming Demons and put them on the march towards Chort. He’d mobilized their entire force, save for a small security detachment of infantry and a couple of ‘requisitioned’ IndustrialMechs that were still guarding the DropShips. And, should things turn bad, his aerospace fighters were on standby as well, ready to go as soon as he needed them.
Sitting in the cockpit of his Archer, Guise couldn’t help but feel pleased with himself over his plan. The whole Esteros contract had been a disaster from the start, with the late, unlamented Major Russel having gotten them in way over their heads. He’d done a great job of turning it all around, taking advantage of the situation to turn to piracy to line their own coffers.
And it’s not like our reputation could get any worse, he considered. Russel tried to turn us around and get us back on the straight and narrow. His plan didn’t work, but mine has. He smiled to himself. Things are falling nicely into place, all thanks to me.
The unit advanced across the hills in a deliberately arranged formation. After the losses they’d suffered at Fulda, he’d reorganized the Screaming Demons, rationalizing their remaining forces. Now, Greene’s reconstituted recon lance had the lead, scouting the path ahead of their forces. Their surviving vehicle forces were arrayed on the flanks, protecting the middle of the formation. That center was Guise’s command lance, with his Archer at the back, as much for protection as to take advantage of its fire support capabilities. That Marko’s Koschei was in front of him and would likely draw the most fire was just a bonus.
“This is Recon Lead,” Greene called out. “We have contact.”
“Likely a picket or scout,” Guise replied. “Keep watch for-“
“More contacts!” Greene cut him off. “Registering multiple BattleMechs and vehicles ahead.”
Guise glanced down at his display, watching as a string of red icons popped into existence ahead of him. Wait, were they ready for us? As more reports came in, he could see their formation take shape. They were! They knew they were coming. “All units, hold!” He commanded, doing his best to remain calm as he toggled to a command channel. “Hellbat Lance, standby.”
“Your orders?” Marko asked, his tone leaden with suppressed anger.
“I’ve got this,” he replied, before switching to an open frequency. “My name is Major Lewis Guise, commander of the Screaming Demons,” he began, doing a good job of selling his confidence. “We have a common enemy in Warlord Mandragov and his army. My men have been engaged with his forces for the last month, so we know his capabilities, his strengths and his holdings.” Which was not entirely true, but it was a strong selling point.
“We both want the same thing. There’s no reason for us to fight, but we can help each other.” He finished. And there’s the hook. Time to reel them in.
—
Matters had progressed swiftly from there. The Reapers’ MHQ had been dispatched and was now parked between the two lines of BattleMechs. The pilots of the Gunslinger and Longbow had disembarked to meet Lewis and his command staff in the rear of the vehicle. The fierce-looking woman and her towering second were joined by a portly man, waiting for them in the briefing room.
“Good to finally meet you,” Violetta began after putting down her neurohelmet. “We became aware of your activities in the last couple of days.”
“Major Lewis Guise,” he introduced himself, his tone clear and confident. “My aides, Captain Gregor Marko and Lieutenant Ben Greene.”
“Major Violetta Vujic,” his counterpart replied curtly. “My aide, Jackson and our employer, Demos.” While Jackson gave no response, Demos beamed broadly at the trio.
“Representing the Malthus Confederation,” he said with a bow. “The Red Reapers were contracted to secure our assets on Esteros.”
Violetta nodded. “While Chort fell easily, the situation turned out to be more complicated than we first anticipated.”
“Most of the continent is controlled by Dimitri Mandragov,” Lewis explained. “He’s a warlord who emerged after the Falcons abandoned the world, having previously been a resistance leader.” Much of this information had been provided by Baroness Sigonella while they had been working for her, a part of her overall briefing about the world and its situation. He’d presumed that after she won the civil war, she’d have sent the Screaming Demons after Mandragov. Even after they’d deserted her, she was still getting her way. Damn that bitch, he considered before he continued.
“The heart of Mandragov’s power is here in the middle of the continent,” Guise continued. “He has at least a regiment of tanks, and maybe a battalion of BattleMechs. Nobody knows where they’re coming from. He’s effectively got a complete stranglehold over the center of the continent, with there being no other force that’s big enough to stand up to him.” He indicated over the map, pointing out a single dot near the middle of it. “His capitol is here in Tirana, so it’s not like he’s exposed or anything.”
Guise paused a moment before continuing. “While there are some other warlords active around the fringes, most of them are just staying out of his way and occupying their own territories rather than seeking fights with him.”
“Then I anticipate they’ll be little trouble overall,” Violetta added. “No, Mandragov is the main objective. Not only does he control our objectives, but the power he represents is an ongoing threat to operations here.” She glanced at Demos who nodded, and a smirk crossed her face. “On the other hand, that gives us a clear and obvious objective.” Her smile broadened as she leaned over the table to Guise. “Crush him.”
“The good news is that he has had to spread out his forces,” Guise explained. “He has a lot of territory to cover with what he has. Furthermore, his western front has recently come under attack by a group of mercenaries hired by the Esteros government.” That much gave him pause. While it was probably not the most professional thing, the idea of getting a measure of revenge on that unit for the losses he had suffered was appealing. Maybe we can make that happen through this alliance, he considered.
“More mercenaries?” Violetta asked. She cocked an eyebrow and glanced at Demos once more.
Lewis couldn’t help but notice the subtle looks of concern that passed between his opposite numbers. Got them! he exclaimed to himself, being careful not to let his victory show. Once again, he’d turned Russel’s failure into his own success. The fool’s blundering had at least bought him intel that he could use to buy his way into the Reapers’ good graces.
She turned her attention back to Lewis. “This could work to our advantage. With this distraction on his western front, a further diversion could leave his central forces dangerously exposed. I think we could accomplish something along those lines… between us.” She let her last statement hanging, its potential obvious.
“Agreed,” Lewis replied with a curt nod. “We can talk unit strengths and compositions later.”
“This does sound promising.” Violetta glanced at the men on either side of her. “I’ll have to confer with my command staff, and I imagine you’ll want some time to do the same.” She gestured towards the door. “We shall reconvene shortly.”
—
After leaving the MHQ, Guise had led his men back to their own little encampment where their ’Mechs were waiting. It was only once he was there among their own that he spoke up. “I think we have them convinced of our usefulness,” he finally said.
“It does seem like this is working,” Marko noted.
“Oh yes,” Guise nodded, his tone becoming more confident. “Don’t get me wrong, Vujic’s pretty smart for a woman, but she needs us and she knows it.”
“Of course,” he replied, a hint of weariness in his voice.
“She probably inherited control of the unit,” he considered. “Didn’t actually have to work for the position, unlike me.”
“You’re probably right.” He paused. “What about their employer?”
“Demos?” Guise shrugged. “I think he’s pretty smart and that he could be useful to us. If he hired the Reapers, then he’s probably not going to get too picky about who else he hires. A guy like that could help me get us out of the hole Russel dug us into.”
“You think he’d hire us?” Greene asked.
“Absolutely,” he nodded. “We’ve picked ourselves up pretty well so far, but this Esteros thing can only last us so long. We have to plan for the future, and I think he’s going to be a great opportunity for us.” He smiled confidently. “You can tell that he’s not going to ask too many questions or be too picky. After all, he hired Vujic.”
“And Jackson?” Greene continued.
Lewis gave a dismissive shake of the head. “Obvious muscle there to intimidate us. Nothing we need to worry about.”
—
In the MHQ’s briefing room, Violetta looked up to one of the monitors mounted on the wall. “Maeve, what’s our status?”
The screen flickered to life, bringing up an image of her company commander in her BattleMech’s cockpit. “No change out here. They’re just staring us down, waiting for something to happen.”
“It won’t,” Jackson said curtly.
“No, they need this alliance,” Violetta mused. “Thoughts?”
“I like them,” Demos said. This drew a surprised look from Jackson of all people, to which Demos shrugged. “They reek of desperation, and desperate men are predictable. But they’re also going to be looking out for themselves first, which is worth remembering.”
“Honestly, I think Guise’s intel is worth more than he is,” Violetta mused. “But it’s more warm bodies to put between us and Mandragov, and right now we need that.”
“Are we really getting in bed with these people?” Maeve asked from her cockpit.
“No. But we’ll use them for as long as they have value.” Jackson nodded his agreement, while Maeve only frowned. At last she turned to Demos.
“Make the pitch.”
—
Guise’s discussion was interrupted by Demos approach to their makeshift camp. “Gentlemen,” he said as he approached. “Sorry for the brusque nature of affairs.” He reached into his satchel and proffered a selection of small bottles of spirits.
Guise took one of the bottles and smiled as he looked over it. “It’s understandable,” he replied. “And thank you.”
“Perks of the trade, as I’m sure you well understand.” His warm smile faded somewhat. “But to the unpleasant business of business.”
“I’ll be blunt. My current employees have found themselves unequal to the task at hand -- at least alone. Whether they want to admit it or not, they can’t stand up to Mandragov’s forces. At least, not without assistance.”
Lewis nodded as he listened. “I understand. Mandragov’s army is a lot bigger than anyone had expected. Fortunately, while we are also outnumbered, we know a lot about his forces, their deployments, capabilities and the like.” He spoke confidently, as if he was a clear authority on the matter. “So what did you have in mind then?”
“Given the scope of the situation, I can definitely stretch the budget to cover you and your men. Of course, payment will have to be deferred until we’re all off-planet, but that shouldn’t be too much of a problem.”
“Off-planet you say?” Lewis glanced at Marko and Greene. “I assume then that you have a JumpShip chartered or otherwise on standby?” His mind was racing with the possibilities, with Demos suddenly opening up a world of opportunities. A steady employer with transport and few scruples would be ideal.
“Chartered, with a scheduled pick-up,” Demos replied. “Of course that’s still a while away, as we had a timeline for the operation. That’s been a mite… skewed?” His face crinkled up as he pondered the particular verbage, before shrugging it off. “But I think between us, we can get things back on track.”
“I think it would be for the best if our two units worked together, but were still treated as equals,” he continued. “After all, Major Vujic and I hold the same rank.” He wasn’t going to mention that the Reapers outnumbered the Demons almost two to one, nor the fact that his rank was self-appointed following Russel’s death. “Naturally, we’d consider you an impartial arbiter in the advent of any disputes.”
Violetta’s not going to like that one, Demos thought behind his plastered-on smile. “Naturally, and I feel that’s more than fair. You’ll find I’m a nicely hands-off employer. Honestly, I wouldn’t know a cooling vest from a command couch. I’ll leave the details of the operations to my two commanders.
“So,” Demos said, spreading his arms and smiling broadly. “Do we have a deal?”
“We do indeed,” Guise replied with a confident smile.
-
Conquest within walking distance
While the Esteros Warlords fielded considerable armies of BattleMechs and combat vehicles, all apparently provided from an unknown source, there was more to their forces than just that. The bulk of the warlords’ armies were made up of infantry, usually conscripts from their conquered territories. And, like so many other small armies that sprang up after the Blackout, they made use of modified IndustrailMechs to supplement their forces. However, what few sources have touched upon is those elements that were absent from their militaries.
The most obvious capability gaps are their aerospace forces, with their armies having not been supplied with either Aerospace fighters or even conventional craft. Even VTOLs were comparatively rare among their forces. While it is possible that their suppliers did not have access to such craft, that seems unlikely given the breadth of sources they pulled from. For example, they were able to supply BattleMechs sourced form Bowie Industries on Carlisle, but not aerospace craft from the same factory.
The lack of aerospace forces meant that the warlords lacked the ability to project their power. It meant that they were limited in their reach to whatever objectives could be reached through purely ground-based travel, although that also did not preclude them from using ocean-going vessels. That no warlord tried to extend their reach beyond Alwaid is more due to the fact that they were still fighting each other than any lack of motivation; given all that we know about Dimitri Mandragov, it is entirely reasonable to assume that he wanted to conquer the entirety of Esteros.
Furthermore, there were other assets that would have been useful in allowing Mandragov and the other warlords to extend their reach that they simply did not have. Their forces lacked any sort of support vehicles that would have been useful in supporting mobile campaigns; no dedicated ordinance transports, no field repair vehicles, no MASH units and so on. Instead, they were entirely dependent on whatever assets they could requestion and repurpose.
While transporting ammunition and supplies using civilian vehicles was an adequate solution, supporting BattleMech forces without dedicated repair bays or the like proved to be an entirely more complicated problem. Where possible, the warlords used existing IndustrialMech workshops for their repair facilities, but these were, by their nature, still limited in what they could do. In the field, they had to make do with whatever they could improvise, which led to a wide range of creative solutions.
Civilian construction and service vehicles were often pressed into service for these roles to varying degrees of effectiveness. Cranes to lift components, cherry-pickers as makeshift repair platforms and so on. One infamous image of the conflict depicts a pair of tractors being used to lift a Starslayer’s arm into position using winches and cables strung over pulleys suspended from a gantry at a mine. These shortcomings were only further exacerbated by the lack of experienced technical crews among the Warlords’ forces, which slowed turnaround times and led to extended periods of inactivity to repair and refit forces.
The question is, why did these gaps exist? One popular theory is that the warlords’ mysterious backers were seeking to hobble their capabilities in order to prevent them from expanding their reach too far. They kept the warlords fighting among themselves, but stopped any one power from being able to claim complete dominance over the others by hobbling their capabilities. Of course, what purpose this served is another matter.
- From Esteros Burning, Galatea Free Press
-
Guest chapter by Zogster and KayEmm
Knight Star
DropShip Ur
Outside Abbeville,
Alwaid, Esteros
As she stepped into the room, Kaitlyn Farris couldn’t help but feel an odd mix of apprehension and excitement at the situation before her. Present were the leaders of the Star of Sumer, a mercenary unit that she had allied herself with through the combination of happenstance and shared objectives. This was her first time as the commander of the Iron Knights that she was working alongside another mercenary command, her peers. While she was eager to see how this would unfold, she also couldn’t help but feel a little nervous, concerned that her relative inexperience and outsider status would work against her.
It didn’t help that there was a marked contrast between her people and those that she was meeting. The Star’s leadership were in crisp, white uniforms that had been purpose made for the role. On the other side, herself, Iulia and Leon were all wearing mismatching, rugged fatigues that had all seen a lot of wear already.
Alongside Lana and Katarina was a solidly built man with a neatly trimmed dark beard. He stepped forward and extended a hand to Kaitlyn.
“Isaías Molina, nu Banda Comet Company,” he said. “Never got the chance to properly thank you for pulling our fat out of the fire.”
Kailtyn nodded in reply. “Glad to help,” she simply replied. “Major Kaitlyn Farris, and my aides, Captain Iulia Dragan and Lieutenant Leon Mackinaw.” She had considered bringing Captain Buster Snegwort to the meeting, an idea that came back to her with the introduction to Molina. On the other hand, she wondered if he would actually contribute anything to the discussion.
Lana stepped forward to address everyone present. “We have a new target. The Iron Knights’ reconnaissance units have been invaluable in locating the enemy’s forces. We believe we have a chance to deal them a decisive blow.”
Lana ceded the floor to Kaitlyn, returning to Isaías and Katarina’s sides. At the same time, Katarina shot Kaitlyn an encouraging wink.
“Our scout has located an enemy force, identified as belonging to Warlord Mandrogov,” she explained. Once again, Iulia’s agent, Anton Yamashita, had done excellent work in locating the enemy and getting the lay of them, escaping without even tipping them off to his presence. She tapped a button on the console, bringing up a holographic map of the area. As she worked the controls, it again was clear just how better maintained and equipped the Star’s DropShip was, which had been the chief reason they had chosen it for this briefing.
Now you’re getting self-conscious about everything, she told herself. Focus.
“They have taken up station outside a mine complex,” she explained. “Based on what he reported, this seems to be the remnants of the forces we faced at Baret and Abbeville. By his estimate, there’s less than a company of BattleMechs, and no more than two companies of tanks. But they also have a not inconsiderable infantry force, as well as a number of modified IndustrialMechs to support them.”
“However, there is another factor that is working in our favor,” she noted. “From all that we’ve seen and learned, Mandragov lacks any sort of mobile field base or other such vehicles, which is going to make it hard to service his ’Mechs in the field. While it’s likely that they chose the mine as much for its value as they could for using its facility to affect repairs, they are still going to be limited in what they are able to do. According to the report, a lot of the ’Mechs were still damaged.”
“Taking out this force will do a lot for us beyond simply reducing the enemy’s numbers,” she explained. “By eliminating them, we’re opening the way to Mandragov’s heartland.” Kait zoomed out the map, adding indicators that pointed out both their location, as well as the location of the city of Tirana. “While there still is a lot of distance to cover, we’re going to leave his western front virtually defenseless. From what we know, most of what he has left in the region is local infantry and paramilitary forces, which pose little risk to us”
Several more points lit up, indicating towns under Mandragov’s control.
“It’s also going to cut off Mandragov’s authority in these parts,” Isaías observed. “You said you’d already eliminated their force commanders, so control over the region is probably tenuous at best.” He turned to ask Kaitlyn directly, “I assume your employers will be moving in peacekeeping forces or the like in your wake?”
“They are, yes,” Kaitlyn confirmed. “The Esteros Assembly is ferrying forces in to garrison those areas we’ve liberated.” Of course, they were limited by the Assembly’s lack of transport assets, and she knew that they’d have a lot to deal with. She didn’t envy those forces for what they’d need to deal with in the slightest, but she also understood that it was better than the alternative.
Lana leaned over the map of the mine. “It seems inelegant, but we can probably crush them with brute force. We outnumber and outweigh them, plus our forces are in better condition. I imagine their morale is pretty shot as well.” She leaned down over the map, indicating to the flat terrain spread out around the mine itself. “We’ve got a clear approach on three sides. If we can quickly blow through their initial defenders, hopefully the rest will break and abandon their posts.”
“That’s a fair assessment,” Leon agreed. “We have the advantage of numbers and sheer weight. I’ll agree with your assessment of their morale as well; they’ve lost two battles and two leaders-“ Kait could swear that Iulia smiled ever so slightly at that last point. “-and have nothing to show for it. At a guess, I’d say the only reason they haven’t run further is that they’re as afraid of their own leaders as they are of us.”
Everything that she’d learned about Dimitri Mandragov so far seemed to support that last point. “Mandragov still has forces in the east of the continent,” she added as she zoomed out the map. “However, it’s going to take them time to redeploy to face us, given his lack of transport assets. If we move fast, we can close in on his heartlands before they can make it to the front.”
Isaías scratched his chin as he examined the map. “I imagine that Mandragov will know the status of his forces by now. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s already written off this region. I doubt he thinks the remnants here can hold against our combined units.”
“You think he knows we’ve joined forces?” Katarina asked.
Isaías gave a nonchalant shrug. “It’s pretty much the worst-case scenario for him, so I imagine he’d be planning for it. Probably moving to consolidate forces around his capital.”
“Which will still take him time,” Lana put forward. “If we can put this to bed quickly, then we’ve got a chance to beat him to the punch. Our forces have mobility he lacks.” A smile pulled at the corners of her mouth as she looked around her, taking in the assembled pilots.
“We have them outnumbered and outgunned. They’ll break quickly. We present a wall and move in to crush them.” She straightened up, favoring the room with an eager smile. “We’ve got this one.”
-----
Like everything else the Iron Knights owned, the field canopy as well as the furniture set up under it was battered and patched, but it still did what they needed it to. At present, it was occupied by a pair of figures; Iulia Dragan, her fatigues and headscarf all but covering her pale skin and a man who’s features were almost completely hidden by his rugged clothes and wrap, leaving only his eyes visible. The pair of them exchanged a few words, the man nodding before turning to leave.
Jakub Day waited a moment before stepping forward. Out in the glaring sun, he’d accessorised his white uniform with an off-grey headscarf. As was local fashion he’d customised it somewhat, in this case with a number of different badges. “Sorry,” he said as he aproached Iulia. “I didn’t want to interrupt.”
“That was Anton Yamashita, our scout,” she explained. “He is Oamani de Deal, from my homeworld. They live off of the land in the hills.” She smiled a little. “His life has taught him to be rugged and resourceful.”
Jakub watched him leave for a moment. “He certainly looks capable,” he said, turning to Iulia. “Is he also, um… a practitioner?” he asked, cautiously.
“No. I am the only one to use magic in the Iron Knights,” she replied, her pride evident in the statement.
Iulia had spread out a number of pictures on the table, laid over a map of the region. Some of them looked to have been taken through a camera, while others were screenshots from BattleROMs. As Jakub watched, she began to re-arrange them to some pattern known only to her. He tried to make out details from the pictures, recognising some of the units from their briefing, and others from the prior battle. Precisely what Iulia was looking for eluded him.
“Hm,” she gave another thoughtful look over the pictures, before rearranging them again, putting one at the centre of the others. “This Patton tank.” Her accent rendered it more as Pattern, but the intent was clear from the photo she was looking at. “It was present at both Baret and Abbeville. Yes, there were others at both, but this one stood out.”
Jakub nodded slowly. “It is a distinctive model, but there’s more to it than that.” He looked up at Iulia and asked “Isn’t there?”
“Patterns,” she explained. “At Baret, when I killed the leader of the enemy forces, this tank remained in the middle of their force. It held its ground for as long as it could, as if its commander was trying to anchor the rest of the force to it.” She nodded in recollection. “I fought it there and it managed to escape from me.”
“Then it was there again at Abbeville,” she considered. “The same pattern unfolded; I killed their leader, but this tank remained in the middle of all things, as if it was the pivot around which their forces moved. They did not retreat until it retreated.”
“Third time’s the charm,” Jakub said offhandedly. He blinked under Iulia’s curious gaze. “Sorry, just… You know, things happen in threes and all that.
Iulia smiled a little at the comment. “I think that whoever is commanding that tank is a powerful person,” she assessed. “If they are not the leader of the remnant forces, then they are able to exert control over them. Maybe they think they should be in command, but the soldiers around them follow them no less.”
“Someone who can rise to the occasion,” Jakub said. He seemed to ponder the picture of the tank for a moment. “Working under Isaías has taught me that tank commanders are often overlooked. Maybe he’s been the real threat all along.”
“A good point, yes,” she considered as she slowly walked around the table, eyes on the pictures. “Maybe he is feeling the same. Their last two commanders, they were in BattleMechs. And yet, it was this tank and the man inside it that was most important to them.” She smiled.
Jakub frowned for a moment. “Weirdly enough, the losses they’ve had will have solidified his position. He’ll be the clear leader now.”
“Then we need to eliminate it and its crew,” she finished. “If he does not escape, then his force will crumble without his will to hold it together.”
Jakub nodded. “I know Lana’s plan was to crush them, but if we target the tank we can hopefully get them to surrender without too many casualties.”
“Now we have figured out what we want, we need to make it happen,” Iulia explained. “In my... tradition, I make an offering to a spirit, who in turn helps me. It directs me to my target and guides my hand and eye.” She nodded. “Would you like to aid me with this?”
Jakub nodded. “If I can. I don’t want to get in the way, but…” He chewed his lip for a moment, trying to find the right words. “I’d like to learn more.”
“Well then, let us begin.” Iulia opened up a noteputer and tapped on the keys a few times. “Season... phases of the moons... hm, yes.” She nodded towards Jakub. “See that tool box over there, the old red one? Can you bring it to me?” As he did, she cleared off the table, while setting up a plain, worn old ceramic bowl on it.
Jakub handed her the box, with Iulia opening it up. Inside were several spice jars on a rack, as well as collections of dried leaves in small bags. “Are some of these from here?” He asked. “The purple color and all.”
“Yes,” she nodded. “And other worlds as well.” She took out several leaves, checking each one of them before adding them into the bowl. “We chose the proper elements, ones that tie to both us and that which we seek.” She paused. “What world do you come from?”
“Um…” Jakub seemed to ponder his answer for a moment. “Galatea, sort of?” He met another one of Iulia’s inquisitive looks. “We were returning to Galatea after a contract and dad said I couldn’t wait. So… I was actually born on the Ur. I guess that doesn’t really help.”
“DropShip. Interesting” she pulled out a spice jar. “We will add something until you can find a better connection. But because you helped me with this, no matter what, there will be some of you in it.” That last comment was made with a smile as she added in several different leaves. “Pick something that you think fits you,” she added as she turned the box to him.
After he had done so, she continued to work. At each point, she ensured that Jakub could clearly see what she was doing. “Then we add just a dash of this...” she poured a small amount of liquid over the collection of herbs and dried leaves. “And now we go outside.” She stepped out into the sun, kneeling and placing the bowl on the ground, gesturing to Jakub to join her.
Taking a breath, she kneeled, leaving a place for Jakub next to her. Iulia whispered a few words in a language he didn’t understand before taking a match, striking it, and dropping it in the bowl. The contents quickly ignited, giving off a thick, pungent odor that she breathed in deeply. Jakub followed suit, closing his eyes and inhaling the vapour while trying not to choke or gag on the strong aroma.
The pair sat in silence for a moment, breathing deeply of the concoction. A variety of thoughts swirled through Jakub’s head, battling for his attention. Of all the things he’d expected on this contract, the last was to meet such a unique person, with a worldview he’d never imagined before. And while magic was not something he would have considered before coming here, he didn’t find the thought of it as strange as he would have expected.
Images came to him of the people he fought alongside. Members of the Star of Sumer, and now of the Iron Knights. Another impression emerged, of Angela King. She must have graduated by now, he realised, and a smile crossed his face thinking of how happy she must be. Finally an image came of his father, a heavyset, bearded man. Jakub was following in the old man’s footsteps, but knew that he was making his own path, and doing it his own way.
At length, the feelings faded, leaving him satisfied and confident. His eyes fluttered open, and he glanced aside to Iulia, reading her reaction.
Iulia took a deep breath. “Yes, it is all clear to me now,” she commented, looking off into the distance at nothing in particular. She turned to Jakub and smiled warmly. “Thank you for helping me with this.”
“No, I…thanks. That was really something special.” He pulled himself slowly to his feet. “I feel calmer, I guess. Like, you know that feeling when you’re going into battle and you don’t know if you’ve done enough to prepare and you feel like there’s a thousand more things you could do?”
“No,” Iulia replied simply.
Jakub smiled. “No. I guess not.” He paused a moment to brush off his uniform pants. “I need to get ready, but…thank you for sharing this with me.”
------
-
Standing in the shade of their DropShip, Kaitlyn Farris and Leon Mackinaw had casually watched the whole process unfold. “Is she teaching the kid magic?” Leon finally asked.
“I guess so,” Kait replied, her tone not entirely certain.
“Huh,” he considered. “Wonder why she never offered to teach any of us?”
“Maybe if you stopped quipping at her every time she bought it up you might find out,” Kait replied with a chuckle.
-----
Lana emerged from the locker room, fastening the last of her MechWarrior jumpsuit. As they had done countless times, Katarina quickly fell in step with her. The two women glanced at each other, their look sharing more than their accumulated experience fighting side by side.
“Ready?” Lana asked off-hand.
“More than,” Katarina said. “I’ve seen the Iron Knights in the field. They’re good at what they do.”
Lana nodded her understanding. The two stepped into an open lift, which quickly chugged its way up Ur's catwalks. “You and Kaitlyn seem to be getting along well,” Lana added after a moment.
Katarina frowned, as she was want to do. “I worry about her, honestly. She’s a good leader and a good MechWarrior, just…I don’t know if her heart’s in it.”
“It wouldn’t be you if you didn’t worry,” Lana shot back with an easy smile.
Katarina couldn’t help but ease off on the frown, her commander’s confidence catching up with her. “Speaking of-”
Lana raised a hand to gently stop her. “I know what you’re going to say, but I’m fine. We both know I’ve been through worse in this job.”
“Not helping,” Katarina replied.
However Lana was planning to respond, it had to wait. Jakub jogged up to the pair of them, clearly in a hurry. “Ugala, nu Banda,” he said, cutting a crisp salute.
“aga’ush,” Lana replied, as the pair saluted in kind. Whatever had brought Jakub here had to be serious if he was relying on such formality.
“Captain Dragan believes she has identified the enemy commander,” he reported. “Piloting a Patton tank.”
Katarina nodded her agreement. “I recall there was one at our previous engagement. Good work, aga’ush.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” Jakub replied. He gave another salute and quickly departed, headed for his Shadow Hawk.
“See?” Lana said with an easy smile. “Another step in our favour.” She gave Katarina a gentle pat on the shoulder. “It’s all going to turn out fine.”
-----
As she settled into her BattleMech’s command couch, Lana couldn’t help but feel confident. Between the Star of Sumer and the Iron Knights, they outnumbered and outgunned Mandragov’s forces. Even if they were depleted, they still held highly defensible ground. But more than anything else, she had a good feeling about her newfound allies.
Added to that, her cast was off. Her leg was still a little tender, but with Cecilia’s reluctant approval she was back in the cockpit. She never felt right asking her people to risk their lives without being in the field with them. That and it would be a poor showing if she wasn’t fighting alongside the Iron Knights’ commander.
Working through her pre-launch check, she noticed a new addition to the cockpit. Hanging from a corner in the left-hand side was a crude figurine, apparently made from bundled sticks and reeds. She paused for a moment to examine it. The smooth stone on the figure’s head reminded her of something, but she couldn’t place it for the moment. She gave it an idle tap and watched it swing back and forth for a few seconds. “Where did you come from?” She muttered to herself.
The radio crackled to life as other members of the Star began to check in. Lana turned her attention back where it was needed, the curious charm momentarily forgotten.
-----
The mine was at least half a day from where the Star and Iron Knights had put their DropShips down. A sub-orbital hop for such a short distance was impractical, not to mention a waste of fuel. Instead, the two units had simply marched overland towards their objective. From the cockpit of her Warhammer IIC, Kaitlyn had to admit that the two units on the move were an impressive sight, a larger force than any she had ever been a part of before.
And a good way to show just how backwater I am, she noted.
Despite the short amount of time they’d had to prepare, the Star of Sumer and Iron Knights had come together well. Their formation was relatively simple and straightforward, with their heaviest elements in the center and more mobile ones on the flanks. Recon elements such as hovercraft and VTOLs, as well as more unconventional ones such as Iulia’s scout, were moving ahead of their force, both checking the path and searching for any signs of the enemy; so far, they were yet to encounter any resistance.
For whatever reason, her ’Mech had ended up marching next to Katarina Morrison’s own Warhammer, making for a striking comparison. Iulia’s Marauder was on her side, its red scheme in stark contrast to the practical camouflage the other ’Mechs were wearing. On the other side, Lana Kotovski’s BattleMaster towered over all around it, a commanding presence on the field.
The Star really know what they’re doing, she considered. So far, she’d been impressed with just how tight and professional their allies had been.
“Knight Two here,” Iulia’s voice crackled over the communicator, interrupting her thoughts. “Things are just as Yamashita reported,”
“Understood,” Kaitlyn replied before switching channels. “Tripwire Team, you are go.”
Yamashita’s report had indicated that there were dug-in infantry forces ahead of the mine, a simple way to slow an incoming force and potentially bog them down. While only an inconvenience to most BattleMechs, such preparations could seriously hamper heavy tanks, such as those that the Star employed. Between them, the leaders of the Iron Knights and the Star of Sumer had worked out their own counter, one that would draw on both units and their capabilities.
On Kaitlyn’s orders, hovercraft and VTOLs from both the Knights and the Star were racing ahead of their formation, disgorging loads of battle-armored infantry upon those defenses before breaking off. Those forces would create holes through which their two units could advance unimpeded before linking up with them for the main assault. All the while, the main bodies of the two forces advanced, closing in on the enemy line.
After maybe a minute, Khasyanov’s voice crackled over the communicator. “We have an opening, grid Echo-Three.”
“Roger that,” she replied. “All units, advance. Push through Echo-Three and then let them have it.”
Kaitlyn opened up her throttle, the Warhammer IIC pushing forwards towards the enemy lines. Around her, other BattleMechs responded in kind. Leon’s Phoenix Hawk surged ahead, leading his recon lance, while other more mobile Star BattleMechs followed suit. Already she was getting sensor pings from the enemy force, with red icons winking to life on her tactical display.
She opened fire on the first available target, her PPCs unleashing twin bolts of artificial lighting on a squat Bulldog tank. One of them struck home, smashing armor off its front end, while the other went wide. Lacking the reach to reply and likely aware that they were outmatched, the Bulldog tank backed off, ducking behind a shed.
In its place, a battered Roughneck and one-armed Cobra stepped forwards, both opening fire. A scattering of autocannon shells and long-range missiles peppered her Warhammer’s hull, but did little more than worry its thick armor. Around them, a motley collection of ’Mechs and tanks were beginning to form up, doing their best to reply to the oncoming force.
She dropped her targeting reticule onto the Roughneck and opened fire again, immediately feeling the heat from the PPC barrage. The results made it well worth the price, as the shots smashed into the blocky enemy BattleMech, flaying armor off its chest and side. As it staggered under the assault, another pair of PPC bolts smashed into it, one of them tearing apart its autocannon. Behind it, the Cobra’s MechWarrior was already backpedaling and reconsidering their options.
“Thanks for the assist,” she commented over the communicator.
“Least I can do,” Katarina replied. “But we’re not even yet.”
Kaitlyn nodded to herself as she continued to advance, bearing down on the damaged Roughneck. We have this, she told herself. Just need to keep it all together.
-----
Combined with the BattleMech’s height, the domed cockpit of the BattleMaster gave Lana a commanding view of the battlefield. Weapons fire was already cutting back and forth across the field, as their combined forces advanced on the mine. Panning across the field, her eyes settled on a rise to her right. An excellent spot to survey the battlefield, she thought. Or to command it from.
“Peyton, with me,” she said. The Gallowglas at her side peeled off with her BattleMaster as they advanced towards the rise. Their movement was met with an immediate response, as a particle cannon shot down from amongst the rocks, impacting into the Gallowglas’ side. Peyton’s return fire impacted into the cover, the hypervelocity gauss slug sending up a burst of rock fragments. As the cloud cleared, they could make out the boxy form of a Myrmidon tank already repositioning itself.
Lana angled her weapons towards the tank, but was caught off-guard. A modified mining ’Mech came barrelling down the hill at her, disgorging a volley of short-range missiles. Impacts scattered across her ’Mech, and she grappled with the controls to keep it steady. Even as she brought her ’Mech to bear on the Industrial MOD, it was upon her. It raked a broad-bladed rock cutter across the BattleMaster’s side, scuffing the armour but doing little more substantial than that.
Lana retaliated in force. She lashed out with a one-two punch, pounding the IndustrialMech with her BattleMaster’s massive fists. The second blow ruptured something on the squat industrial’s side, and she could see a thin spray of fluid gushing out at high pressure. In an instant she angled her ’Mech’s torso and fired the short-range missile launcher. Detonations scattered across the IndustrialMech, with two of them striking the impacted side. A gout of flame was followed by a bellow of thick black smoke. Suddenly limp, the mining ’Mech teetered to one side and collapsed.
Freed from her distraction, Lana turned her attention back to the Myrmidon tank, only to find it was already dealt with. Twin searing lasers cut into its turret, melting away armour and exposing the particle cannon within. A precise slug from Peyton’s gauss rifle snapped the cannon off at the base, sending the barrel flying away from the tank before clattering down the slopes behind it. The response was immediate, with the crew rapidly abandoning the tank. The two BattleMechs shared a glance, then continued their advance.
Lana only noticed the Patton tank an instant before it fired. On instinct as much as anything, she pulled Gilgamesh’s throttle to a halt and yanked back on the control stick. Her BattleMaster came to a sudden stop, an instant before impact. She watched as a Thunderbolt missile from the Patton soared just to the left of her cockpit, close enough to read the text on the missile's side. She caught a glimpse of the primitive charm dangling in a corner of the BattleMaster’s cabin before the missile detonated harmlessly behind her.
She snapped her attention back to the target before her. The BattleMaster twisted to track the tank which was already on the move. Lana snap-fired a fusillade of particle cannons which splashed against the mine’s barren ground. The Patton tank was already out of sight, having retreated behind a rock wall.
”Star Actual to all points,” Lana said as she eased the throttle forward. “Enemy commander sighted.”
—--
-
From the command couch of his Patton, Johan van der Kriel was doing his best to keep his force and his own tank together.
They were outnumbered and outclassed, and he knew it. One of the mercenary units on its own would have probably been enough to finish off the dregs that he had been able to pull together on its own. The pair of them were an overpowering force, a sledgehammer against eggshells. He’d hoped that his efforts would have at least slowed them, but instead they seemed to be simply unstoppable.
The roar of the Patton’s cannon cut off his thoughts for a moment as it sent another shell flying over the rock ridge he had retreated behind. Refocusing himself, he took a quick glance at his tactical display, noting the overabundance of red icons and the way they had surrounded his blue ones on three sides. I can’t win this battle, he assessed. But I can do the best to win the next one.
“All units, pull back,” he ordered. “Withdraw towards grid Foxtrot-Nine.” His goal was to keep his men together in an orderly retreat, one that would limit the enemy’s ability to follow while preserving what he could. That way they could hook up with other friendly forces and reinforce the frontline, rather than simply scattering and allow the enemy to pick them off at their leisure.
And if we can hurt them, all the better, he added. “Focus fire on their heaviest units. Destroy what you can.” It made sense that the heaviest ’Mechs in the enemy force were going to be their commanders. Eliminating them would go a long way towards helping their cause.
Especially you. He couldn’t help but remember that one Marauder that had come after him at both Baret and Abbeville. I know you’re out to get me.
The enemy force continued to advance as his own withdrew, trying their best to contain his movement and destroy what they could. A Phoenix Hawk leaped past him, its weapons lashing a Demon tank and slicing through the vehicle’s already depleted armor. A Vulcan stepped forward to face the attacker, only to be caught flat-footed by a Nightsky that was following in its wake. The attacking ’Mech bought its hatchet down on the Vulcan, severing its right arm with a crushing blow.
Ahead of him, a pair of Warhammers were pushing towards the middle of his force, unleashing a storm of PPC fire on whatever got in their way. “Take them out!” he ordered, the turret pivoting towards the pair. The cannon roared again, its shell landing between the pair and showering them in debris. If the impact bothered either MechWarrior, they didn’t let it show.
Where are you? He asked himself as he glanced around. He got his answer a moment later as the Patton was rocked by a pair of heavy impacts, its electronic displays crackling with interference for a moment. “There!” he called out, sighting the source of the attack; an all-too-familiar red Marauder striding towards him. “Rotate to three-one-five,” he called out as he locked it up on his control system. “Hit my target!”
A stream of affirmatives came moments before the Patton rocked under the recoil from its weapons. The main gun struck home, slamming into the Marauder’s side and sending it staggering back. Its Thunderbolt missile and lasers followed through, blasting more armor from the enemy BattleMech’s flank. “Got you, you bastard!” he cried out, a feeling of victory reaching him despite the situation around him. “Again!”
Damaged but not out of the fight by any means, the Marauder returned fire. Its two PPCs unleashed a hail of hellish energies that again struck the tank, shaking it but not penetrating its thick hull. Fragments from its LBX cannon pinged off the hull, doing little more than making noise. “Is that all you have?” he cried out, an eager tone in his voice. “Fire!”
The Patton returned with better than it got, its shots smashing into the enemy ’Mech. One of its blocky lower arms was torn apart by the cannon shell, destroying the weapons contained within and sending the Marauder staggering back. “I’ve got you now,” he grinned as he focused on the enemy ’Mech. “Take that you bloody bastard.”
He was about to order another volley when the Patton was rocked by a series of impacts, punctuated by the sounds of tearing metal. Moments later, the wail of alarms filled his ears. “What the bloody hell is going on?” he demanded.
“Multiple systems failures,” the technician called back from his station. “Fire control is out; engine is damaged… we have a breach in the reactor housing!” His tone turned urgent. “We need to get out now!”
For a moment, Johan hesitated, not wanting to let his enemy get away before sense and experience took over. There was no reason to stay in his tank, itself a helpless target, and die. “Abandon tank!” He called out as he hastily unbuckled his harness before opening the top hatch. “Now!”
As he clambered out of the tank, Johan couldn’t help but notice the BattleMech that had been responsible for its destruction. It wasn’t the Marauder, nor either of the Warhammers or the BattleMaster that he had tagged as their commanders. Rather, it was just a simple Shadow Hawk.
-
More peas!!1!
TT
-
Guest Chapter by KayEmm
LIC Surveillance Log 546-239A
Graf Leonhard Kayserling: Baroness Sigonella, thank you for meeting me at such short notice.
Baroness Giana Sigonella: You can dispense with the pleasantries, Graf Kayserling. You are the legitimate ruler of Esteros and you made it abundantly clear that I retained my position and title at your sufferance. What do you want?
Kayserling: Very well then. I thought that I would ask this discreetly, rather than bringing it up in the briefing so as not to make things inconvenient for you.
Sigonella: Whatever this is, I do appreciate the discretion.
Kayserling: This is regarding Major Farris’ last report. I wanted to know if the mercenaries that she has allied herself with were hired by you. After all, you did hire Major Russel’s unit much like I hired Farris’.
Sigonella: They were not, and I admit that troubles me. While I would very much like to reintegrate Esteros into a larger economy, I am wary of some unknown power having designs on our world.
Kayserling: Likewise. Unfortunately, this means that we are dealing with an external factor here, one that is beyond our control.
Sigonella: And while I do appreciate Farris’ decision to ally with them to deal with the Alwaid situation, I have concerns for what will come after that.
Kayserling: We get Esteros back only to lose it.
Sigonella: Exactly. However, I do want to present an option; unofficially, of course.
Kayserling: Of course. Do go on.
Sigonella: I propose that we send a representative to meet these mercenaries and, through them, their employer. They may have their own agents on world, or they may be expecting their mercenaries to report back to them. This way, we can gather intelligence on whoever sent them, and see what threats or opportunities they present to us.
Kayserling: I agree with your idea. I assume that you have somebody in mind.
Sigonella: Indeed. I will forward you the details, but I do suggest we dispatch them as soon as possible. Ideally, I would like to see some form of interstellar trade re-established, but failing that it would be beneficial to know what we are facing.
Kayserling: And what preparations we will need to take for it.
Sigonella: Such as a strengthening of your newly formed Esteros Army, of course.
Kayserling: It is an option we have to consider, of course.
Sigonella: Of course. I will forward you the details on my agent.
Kayserling: Thank you for that.
Sigonella: This is important, and I understand your desire to act outside of the normal mechanisms of the assembly in this case. I would have done the same had things gone differently.
Kayserling: Very well then. If there is nothing else, I will await your information.
Sigonella: Actually, there is one other thing.
Kayserling: Go on.
Sigonella: I have a granddaughter who is of age and currently unmarried. I think that it would be mutually beneficial for me to introduce her to your son.
Kayserling: I understand the idea, but are you sure that is the best plan?
Sigonella: Graf Kayserling, I will be blunt here. We both know you’ve been trying to offload Johan for years. Any idiot could see your intentions with how you had him working alongside Major Farris at every step of the way. And while I appreciate your intent, I feel that this move would be better for both of us in the long run.
Kayserling: I see. Well, I will take it under consideration.
-
Guest chapter by KayEmm and Zogster
She Keeps no Secrets From Me
“Hi Angela! Just got a bit of downtime between operations, and I thought I’d send you an update. Don’t know when this video’s going to reach you, though. I’ll send it out to the JumpShip with our next update. Of course, interstellar communications being what they are, who knows how long it’ll take. Maybe I’ll see you before this does. Heh, maybe we’re watching it together now. In that case, hi me!
We’re on Esteros, out in the old Jade Falcon Occupation Zone. Obviously I can’t fill you in on all the details via video, but I’ll tell you when we meet up. Really looking forward to that.
Anyway, sorry. Esteros is a really beautiful place. Between the star and the atmosphere, there’s a lot of UV light, so we’ve all got to cover up while we’re outside. The locals wear these neat headscarves, and a lot of the unit have adopted them too. It’s sort of fashion around here to decorate them, and some I’ve seen look really cool. I’ve taken to putting some badges on mine. See, there’s the unit badge you gave me. Thanks for that. Other people have been doing that too, coming up with their own designs and features. Andreas actually added some feathers from a local bird to his. It looks really wild. I’m definitely going to have to keep mine afterwards.
The other thing is that it means all the plants and such have got purple foliage, to properly photosynthesise the light. The forests here are really dramatic. C’mon, here. You can see it out past the camp. Of course, that means a lot of the native animals are camouflaged in similar colours.
Oh, wow, that reminds me. There was this great moment just after we got here. We were setting up around our first objective and this… I don’t recall what the local name is, but it was sort of like this big chunky rat thing came out of the scrub. I guess I’d been looking at it for a while, but hadn’t really seen it, you know? It kind of waddled out past me and gave me this look, like it figured I wasn’t a threat and vanished back into the undergrowth. But it was sort of a dark, faded violet along its back, except for these two really bright stripes. You wouldn’t think it normally, but in its own environment, it blends in really well.
The thing is, it reminded me again just how wonderfully diverse the Inner Sphere is. I mean, we keep thinking that it’s all these human worlds spread out everywhere, but they were their own places, evolving in their own ways long before we came along. Mum – er, Katarina was talking to Kaitlyn, and Kaitlyn said that’s what she really loves about being a mercenary. Getting to see all these different new worlds.
Oh! Jeez, how’d I forget! I didn’t even tell you about that. Kaitlyn, who I mentioned, is actually the leader of another mercenary unit who’s working on Esteros. We ran into them when, well more like they ran into us. We got ambushed and it was a whole mess, and suddenly they appeared out of nowhere to save us! Turns out there’s a lot more going on with Esteros than we thought. They said there was another another mercenary unit here too, but they’d broken away when they lost their commander. Hopefully they’re out of the picture so we can concentrate on our objective.
Anyways, the Iron Knights – that’s Kaitlyn’s unit – and us have got the same objective, so we’re teaming up. It’s been really great to work so closely with another unit, just to see how people do things differently. I’m learning a lot from them already.
Oh, and I met a witch! She’s really cool. Kind of a bit strange, but in a good way? She told me that Gilgamesh was cursed, but I didn’t want to mention it to Katarina because she already worries too much. We were um…it’s kind of hard to explain. She showed me how to do some of her magic and it felt…well, I don’t know. I don’t know if it’s like magic magic, or if magic is a real thing, but it felt good to sort of focus on something and work through it before we went into battle. I guess she uses it for relaxation and the like. I feel like…I want to keep trying it. It’s definitely new and different, but that doesn’t mean it’s wrong. It works, because she’s got to be one of the best pilots I’ve ever seen. Don’t tell Wen I said that, though.
And I haven’t even asked about you! How are you doing? I can’t imagine where King’s Tigers are right now. Of course, you’ll probably be in a whole different system by the time you see this. Also, congratulations! You’ll be a full-fledged MechWarrior by now. I can’t wait to hear all about it. Um.. Because of the whole unit families and everything I got made an officer straight away, but I don’t know what Lanie’s going to do. I’ve been trying to figure what ‘Mech you’ll be assigned, but I really don’t know your unit’s equipment that well. I know you kept running rings around me in that trainer Chameleon.
Oh, I can’t wait to see you again. I wish we could talk more, face to face. It’s so weird. I mean, so many people talk about the HPGs and what it was like back then, but I guess this is just what’s normal for us. I keep thinking about what it would be like for us to keep in touch on different planets. Maybe someday?
Anyway, I’m rambling, and this thing’s just getting huge. Say a big hi to your sis for me. I can’t wait to hear about your new ‘Mech and your first missions and everything. Gosh, I’m so excited for you. Can’t wait to catch up. I really miss you.”
-----
Jakub paused for a moment, holding the camera at arms’ length. In the bustle of the shared mercenary units’ encampment, there was a moment of quiet, of stillness. There was one more thing to say, one little thing to mention. But not like this. Probably best to say it when they actually met. With a broad smile, his eyes slightly damp, he added a quick “Bye!” and stopped the recording.
It was then that he noticed Iulia Dragan, patiently watching him, peering out from under her own headwrap that left only her eyes uncovered. “What are you doing?” she asked, her tone more curious than anything else.
“Oh! Jakub beamed. “I’m recording a video for my, uh, friend Angela King.”
Iulia blinked. “King?”
“Um, yes,” he continued. “She’s the daughter of Lanie King, who commands another mercenary unit, King’s Tigers. We’ve known each other for some time; Lanie is friends with Lana and all.”
“King’s... Tigers,” Iulia trailed off, before whispering to herself in her own language. “Nothing is chance. Everything happens for a reason. There is a pattern to all things.”
“Is something wrong?” Jakub asked.
“No, is nothing,” Iulia finished with an unseen smile. “And have fun with your video.”
—--
Kaitlyn Farris had always known that the Red Son was old, poorly maintained and being held together by jury-rigging and prayers as much as anything else. Meeting the Star of Sumer and seeing their DropShips had only reinforced that point. However, as she made her way through the ship right now, that difference was the last thing on her mind.
Iulia Dragan, her friend and second in command had wanted to speak to her, with a tone suggesting that it was important. That she wanted to meet here in the ship’s bunkrooms rather than out in the open made it clear that this was something that needed to be handled discretely and hidden from their newfound allies for whatever reason. That made her all the more wary of what it might be.
Has she discovered something about them that the Star want to hide? That seemed unlikely from her interactions so far. Lana Kotovski had come off as one of the most straitlaced and honest people she had ever met, one who carried herself with a code of conduct that she expected her people to follow. Katarina Morrison was friendly and honest, but again seemed to be willing to put everything out in the open. And it’s not like I’ve been entirely forthcoming either, she admitted to herself.
She stepped into the bunkroom where Iulia was waiting, alone. The first thing that struck her was that her friend had an unusually concerned look on her face. “What’s this about?” Kaitlyn asked, not wanting to waste time.
“it is something that I overheard from one of the Star’s people,” Iulia explained. “He is in contact with a member of another mercenary command; King’s Tigers.”
Kaitlyn blinked in surprise as the words registered. “King’s Tigers,” she repeated. “They still exist.”
“Yes,” Iulia nodded.
“Which means...” Kaitlyn opened up her locker, fishing through it before she pulled out a notebook, and opened to a specific page.
“This King might know something, yes,” Iulia agreed.
Kaitlyn found the page she was looking for; taped to it was a photograph of three people. A heavy-set man with a thick black beard, an almost skeletal woman with short-cropped white hair and a man in a stylish purple suit. Their names were written below the photo.
Morgan Blackstone. Nina Raymond. Jackson King.
She nodded nervously. “This...this was the last thing my father told me before m- before Blackstone abducted him,” she finally spoke up. “He never even got to explain it. Whatever secret these three had, it was enough for Blackstone to go to great lengths to try and keep for himself.”
“We assumed that King and Raymond were dead,” Iulia considered. “And that the secret, whatever it was, died with them.”
“That was always the story my father told me,” she agreed. “We survived the Jihad when they didn’t, by running and hiding. But if King is out there...”
“There is no such thing as a coincidence,” Iulia stated. “Everything happens for a reason.”
Kaitlyn nodded. “We need to find out what we can about them. But at the same time...” she glanced around the room. “The mission comes first. The Star are our allies, and I do not want to risk that over my own family.”
“Of course.”
She managed a weak smile. “And thank you for telling me this. It... it’s not what I expected at all.”
“The universe moves in mysterious ways,” Iulia replied. “But we can move with it.”
-
Guest chapter by KayEmm and Zogster
First Date
Outside Lublin
Alwaid
Esteros
Yasir Malik was conflicted. Lying on his belly on the moist earth, nestled in amongst the lilac-coloured scrub, he was all but invisible. He surveyed the area before him through his binoculars. A crude supply depot sat at the bottom of the rise. It looked like it had been an old factory out in an overgrown field, probably shut down long before Mandragov’s forces came along. Now it was bustling with activity.
He quietly counted out the forces arrayed around. A pair of converted industrial ‘Mechs stood watch, heavy weapons crudely bolted to their frames. Two Winterhawk APCs sat idle by the factory, with a smattering of armed infantry spread out among the grounds. But what concerned him the most was the civilians.
He could see a number of workers moving in and out of the former factory, hauling crates and supplies. They were loading up a collection of smaller trucks, no doubt civilian vehicles pressed into service by the Warlord’s men. Even from here, Yasir could see the nervous looks they gave the armed soldiers surrounding them.
A pang of sympathy tugged at his heart. Yasir had been pressed into service with the Red Reapers, much like these civilians. While his role as a scout had afforded him a great deal of autonomy, he still feared running from the unit. And from what they’d seen of Mandragov’s people, escaping to their mercy would be no improvement. No, for now he would stay at Violetta’s command. But the moment an opportunity presented itself…
Yasir’s radio crackled to life. “Report,” came the voice of his commanding officer over the other end.
Shifting slightly, Yasir reached up and tapped his earpiece. “Located the depot, just as Guise reported.”
“His intel was on the money,” Violetta mused on the other end.
“Surprised?” came Maeve’s voice over the channel. “Or are you going to have to admit he’s useful for something?”
“Clear the channel,” Violetta spat back.
There was silence for an overly long moment before Yasir spoke up once more. “I make two industrial mods, two APCs and approximately two platoons of infantry.”
“Easy pickings.” There was a brief crackle on the radio as another channel was added. “Demon command, this is Reaper command. We have located the supply depot, exactly where you said.”
“Of course,” Lewis Guise’s voice crackled into the channel, more than a hint of confidence in his tone. “My recon forces have extensively mapped the area. There’s nothing we’re not ready for.”
“My raiding force will be there in five. We’ll be ready to move when Mandragov’s forces respond.”
“Understood. The Screaming Demons are also ready and will be with you,” Guise added.
“This is going to be a very profitable partnership,” Violetta finished, before cutting Guise out of the channel. Yasir couldn’t help but notice how much sweeter she sounded when talking to him.
He slowly pulled himself to his feet, and cleared the branches concealing his quad ATV. He needed to be ready to move. Violetta would be sending her ‘miscellaneous detachment,’ an off-the-books lance of BattleMechs set up for raiding and terror operations. The garrison forces Mandragov had here wouldn’t stand a chance. Neither would the civilians.
The minutes dragged by as he waited. Down below, the workers kept loading up their trucks, unaware of what was about to happen. Without warning, a swarm of short-range missiles erupted from the treeline. They spread across the open field before bursting in mid-air, raining burning gel down on the infantry below. Yasir winced as he heard them scream.
The defending forces immediately responded. Both hovercraft kicked into gear, weaving among the burning patches of ground. The IndustrialMechs, a Crosscut and Buster, lumbered into action, turning their backs on the factory. From the treeline emerged a trio of Battlemechs. Yasir saw the distinctive modified Hunchback, accompanied by a Caliope and Koshi.
The battle was joined. The two Winterhawk APCs sped towards the emerging ‘Mechs, concentrating their fire on the Hunchback. Short-range missiles peppered across its legs. It returned fire with a pair of plasma cannons from its bulky shoulder housing, but the hovercraft were too fast for its pilot.
The two industrial ‘Mechs strode forwards, firing downrange. A barrage of autocannon shells impacted on the Calliope’s chest, rocking it back. The ‘Mech returned fire with its plasma cannon. A searing blue lance cut straight through the Crosscut’s upper arm, neatly severing it and dropping the dual chainsaws to the ground.
Yasir panned his binoculars back over to the factory. The infantry had abandoned their positions, and the civilian workers were following suit. They scattered out into the fields beyond, fleeing from the oncoming BattleMechs. A sigh of relief escaped his lips. They would be relatively safe from the carnage.
As the IndustrialMechs closed, the fourth member of the miscellaneous detachment emerged. A Firestarter OmniMech jetted overhead, twisting in mid-air to land behind them. It fired a pair of brilliant blue lasers that punched through the rear of the Buster, staggering the ‘Mech. A quartet of Battle Armour troopers dismounted the Firestarter before launching on their own jump jets towards the factory.
The Hunchback twisted in place, trying to track one of the speeding hovercraft. It raked the BattleMech’s legs with machine gun fire, staying just ahead of its plasma cannons. The Koshi strode forward and fired, disgorging a swarm of short-range missiles directly in the Winterhawk’s path. They burst right in front of it, engulfing the vehicle with incendiary gel. The burning hovercraft spun out of control and slammed violently into a rock outcropping before detonating in a massive explosion.
“Nice,” growled Rickie, the Hunchback pilot. He turned his attention to the Crosscut, just as it opened fire. The autocannon slammed into the Hunchback’s weakened leg. Yasir watched as the bulky ‘Mech staggered and fell to one knee. “You’ll burn for that!” Rickie bellowed over the comm, making Yasir wince. The Hunchback returned fire, its dual plasma cannons joined by a third from the Calliope. Their fire raked over its body, reducing its minimal armour to slag. The Crosscut rapidly overheated under their assault, and shut down.
“Don’t kill them too fast,” Violetta’s voice came over the comm. “We want to stir up the hornet’s nest, not knock it down.”
“Then give me better targets,” Rickied replied. The Hunchback got to its feet and limped forwards. It gave the Crosscut an unceremonious shove, tipping it over.
Seeing movement by the factory, Yasir turned his attention in that direction. The Battle Armour squad was rapidly moving between the remaining infantry forces. Rifle fire deflected harmlessly off their armoured bodies while they cut the soldiers down. Outside, one of the workers clambered into a truck’s cabin.
“Come on… Get out of there,” Yasir hissed under his breath. He watched helplessly as the Battle Armour squad turned their attention to the truck. Just as it started moving, they lit up their flamers. The ammunition loaded on the back ignited in an instant, and the truck vanished in the ensuing fireball.
Yasir cursed under his breath and looked away. Fire washed across the fields, lapping closer to the treeline. The remaining defenders were crumbling under the assault. For all that, the factory and its stores were mostly untouched.
“What’s our status?” Violetta asked over the comm.
“Mission success,” Yasir bitterly replied.
—--
Lewis Guise had assessed Violetta’s plan and found it to be to his liking. At the most basic level, she was sending a small force to raid behind Mandragov’s front lines and cause havoc, which would then distract their frontline forces. Then, the Screaming Demons and Red Reapers would begin their own attack. It wasn’t the most sophisticated plan, but it would definitely suffice given the forces that they were up against. Watching from the situation room on board the Inferno, he was carefully studying the map of the region.
“It seems they actually know what they’re doing,” he considered to himself.
“You sound surprised,” Marko replied with some wariness.
“Not surprised, no,” he responded. “More of reassured. Don’t get me wrong, I saw the opportunity in our alliance, but I admit I had my own concerns about our would-be allies.”
“And what do you mean by that?”
“It’s clear that Major Vujic and Captain Cullen have some… issues,” he explained. “I mean, it makes sense. They’re both women, so they’re going to get all emotional about everything instead of thinking it all through. They both know what they’re doing, however, and I think we can rely on them. Even if I have to nudge them in the right direction,” he smiled to himself.
“Of course,” Marko nodded, his tone carefully neutral.
Anything that he would have added was cut off by an incoming message. “Major Guise here,” Lewis responded with clear confidence.
“This is Lieutenant Greene,” the voice of his recon commander crackled over the system. “I’m picking up comms traffic within Mandragov’s forces. It looks like the raiders got their attention.
“Excellent,” he smiled. “Ready the troops. We’ve got a war to win”
—--
-
Barandov, Alwaid
Esteros
The command centre in Barandov had served a number of purposes in its life. Originally it had housed forces belonging to the house guards of one of Alwaid’s now-extinct noble families. Then, after the invasion, it had been taken over by the Jade Falcons for their garrison and paramilitary forces. Now it was acting as the regional command for Dimitri Mandragov’s forces, cementing their control over the eastern expanse of his empire.
Major Geena da Silva, the regional commander, was doing the same thing she had been doing for the last two days; glaring over the large holotable in the middle of the room that was projecting a map of the area around Barandov. Several angry red marks were scattered across the western side of the map, the sites of attacks by an unidentified raider force. For the last three days they had been bedeviling her forces, hitting whatever targets that they found before slipping away into the wilderness.
You can’t run forever, she considered. She had sent forces to hunt them down and bring an end to their operations, but so far that had turned into a wild goose chase. The raiders, whoever they were, had proven to be remarkably good at evading their pursuers. “Any updates?” She called out, not looking up from the map.
“None as yet,” a technician simply replied.
Damn. “And are we any closer to confirming their identity?”
“The current theory is that they’re the renegade mercenaries who were operating around Svboda,” Somebody else suggested. “Possibly moving up from the south to avoid our frontier.”
“Which means this is a good chunk of their force,” she nodded. “It could almost be worth sending more after them.”
Before anyone else could comment, the communications technician cut in. “Report coming in of a large force on the move,” he stated. “Presently west-south-west of here, but moving towards Barandov.”
“Wait, what?” She snapped as a new icon was placed onto the map, on the opposite side of the city to where the raiders had been operating. “Who are they?”
“Unclear,” the technician commented.
Can’t be Olegi, unless he’s gotten way too cocky. “Any estimate on their forces?”
“Uh...” there was a pause. “Estimated at least twenty BattleMechs, plus supporting units.”
“Twenty?” She spat. She had only a company of BattleMechs, but more in tanks, infantry and other forces. Of course, half of her unit were scattered across the countryside, “Issue recall orders and get everything back here immediately!”
“Understood,” the technician quickly went back to work as she returned to the map, looking at the position of her units relative to the enemy force. Already she was seeing that her people wouldn’t get back to the city before the main body of the enemy force were on her.
Damn them, she snarled to herself as she glowered at the map.
-----
Outside Barandov, Alwaid
Esteros
As the first hostile red indicators appeared on his tactical display, Lewis Guise couldn’t help but feel pleased with himself. The enemy force appeared to be spread out and disorganized, while the terrain around them (largely open with scattered low-level buildings) wouldn’t offer them any real advantages. They fell for our plan, he told himself, a smile creeping onto his features. This is all thanks to me and the information I was able to feed our friends.
“Engaging with enemy forces,” Greene’s voice crackled over the communicator. “Looks like two lances of medium BattleMechs and at least two companies of tanks.”
Again, exactly as planned, Lewis nodded to himself. “Understood. Pin them in place. We are right behind you.” He flipped over to a broad command channel before Greene had any chance to respond. “This is Demon Actual to all units. Fire at will.”
He pushed the throttle on his Archer forward, the heavy ‘Mech accelerating as it moved towards the enemy line. The rest of his lance were arrayed around him in a diamond formation, with him at the back to provide support. On either side, the Screaming Demons’ conventional forces also sped up; tanks maintaining formation with his lance, while faster hovercraft sped ahead. A glance at his display told him that the Red Reapers were following suit.
He opened a private channel. “Everything’s going according to plan, Major Vujic,” he commented. “My plan and your men made for an excellent combination.”
“We mop these forces up, and the rest will have nowhere to go,” his opposite number responded.
Ahead of him, several missiles struck Markov’s Koschei, worrying armor but doing little else. The dome-headed BattleMech merely weathered the barrage and continued to advance as shots went off around it. Lewis quickly located the source of the attack, a Maxim hover transport that was dashing for cover. He quickly centred his sights on the enemy vehicle and, as soon as he got a positive tone, unleashed two flights of long-range missiles from the Archer’s shoulder pods.
Maybe two-thirds of the missiles hit home, smashing into the enemy vehicle. Rocked by the impacts, it span and then skidded to a halt in the middle of a road, its air skirt shredded by his hits. As Lewis cheered to himself, he could see infantry troops bailing out of the crippled vehicle and dashing for cover. Good start.
Markov and the board-shouldered Exhumer next to him opened fire on the enemy line, cannon and laser fire lashing a Patton tank. Lewis joined them, adding another flight of missiles as well as his Large Laser to the assault, the weapons gouging huge chunks from the tank’s armor. Its return fire was scattered, with autocannon rounds hitting the Exhumer while doing little to slow their advance. A Brutus tank moved up to support its damaged colleague, only to be subject to more punishing fire.
An alarm in his cockpit got his attention as moments later a flight of missiles smashed into the Archer’s upper body. Grunting, Lewis was shaken inside the cockpit, but otherwise unharmed. “Who was...” he considered as he quickly checked his display, noting that both the Patton and Brutus were now focusing their fire on his lancemates. Instead another pair of icons caught his attention, with a pair of BattleMechs further back from the front line having focused their attention on him.
Makes sense. I am the biggest threat here.
Undeterred, he pushed the Archer forwards towards the pair of them. A Crusader was using one of the low-lying buildings for what little cover it could get, while a smaller Cobra was lurking nearby. He targeted the medium BattleMech, unleashing another hail of fire onto it. A little over half the missiles struck home, peppering the enemy BattleMech and causing it to stagger, but not fall.
As the Cobra readied for another attack, it was struck by a bolt of laser fire that sliced into one of its weapon arms. Greene’s Chameleon leaped towards it, causing the enemy MechWarrior to spin around and snap off a pair of missile volleys at the newcomer. This time they went well wide as Greene kept moving, cutting around the flank of the enemy ‘Mech.
You make a good distraction, Lewis considered as he focused on the Crusader. Continuing to close down the distance, he opened fire again with his missiles and large laser. Ignoring the heat in the cockpit from his attack, he was more focused on the results. The laser stitched an angry scar across the Crusader’s blocky chest, while the missiles whittled away its armor.
Damaged but not out by any means, the Crusader replied with its own missiles, scattering damage across the Archer’s hull. A quick glance at his damage display as he waited for his weapons to cycle told Lewis that it had done little more than pockmark his armor. Not a problem, he told himself as he opened fire again, while flipping open his command channel. “This is Demon Lead to Reaper Lead. I have eyes on probable enemy commander.”
-----
“Copy, Demon Lead,” Violetta replied from her Gunslinger’s spacious cockpit. The battle was laid out before her exactly as they had planned. The Screaming Demons had engaged the front line of Mandragov’s forces, while her own unit had moved in from the flank. Maeve’s cavalry lance was moving ahead, bounding between the low-lying buildings and mostly keeping out of their fire. Her own electronic warfare suite had managed to keep her command lance off the radar until they had reached their range.
“Cut them down,” she said eagerly. The response was immediate. The Longbow and Bandersnatch at her sides opened up with flights of long-ranged missiles, raining down among Mandragov’s tanks. The missiles slammed into the low-lying buildings as much as the armoured vehicles, collapsing many of them and leaving the enemy forces exposed. She opened up with her Gunslinger’s gauss rifles. The Helios’ fire joined her own smashing into a Behemoth tank. The massive vehicle absorbed their shots, and slowly rotated towards them.
Already the battle was shifting. Caught in a pincer, the enemy’s formation was crumbling, allowing Guise’s forces to advance. At the same time, a large division of heavy tanks emerged from cover, trundling towards her advancing lance.
-----
“Enemy armour is heavier than anticipated,” Maeve reported from the cockpit of her Scourge. She landed in a run, catching shells along her flank from a Demolisher. She paused behind a blocky fire station as it tracked it with its turret, autocannons pounding out a constant barrage of fire. Shells impacted against the brickwork, but the old station held. Maeve’s Scourge poked out of cover to fire off a slug from its Gauss rifle. The shot pinged off the tank’s armoured hide, leaving it largely undamaged. Ballistic reinforced armour, Maeve thought to herself.
-----
-
“Can you advance?” Violetta asked as she zeroed in on Maeve’s position.
“Negative,” came the reply. “Tell Guise he’ll have to deal with the ‘Mechs himself.”
Violetta cursed loudly. The last thing she wanted was to lose face before Lewis Guise. Not that she valued his opinion; rather that she didn’t want to give him more leverage in their partnership.
“Reaper Lead to Demon Lead,” Violetta began through clenched teeth. “Encountering heavy resistance. Will not be able to reinforce.”
—--
“Understood,” Guise replied, with just the slightest hint of smug self-assurance in his voice. The battle was going exactly as he had expected it would, with the Screaming Demons proving to be quite effective against the Warlord’s forces. Looking at his tactical display, he could see how his forces had pushed deeply into their position, while the Reapers were still somewhat further back.
Violetta probably didn’t think this through at all, he told himself. Which means that it’s up to me to pull us through.
Ahead of him, the Crusader let loose another volley of missile fire at Marko’s Koschei. A score of long-range missiles peppered the broad torso of the ‘Mech, but did little to slow it down. In reply, his lieutenant let loose with a burst of autocannon fire that smashed into the Crusader’s upper body, staggering it before a PPC blast speared into its blocky chest.
Seeing an opportunity, Guise added his own fire to the conflagration. Two flights of missiles smashed into the Crusader, rocking the heavy BattleMech as it struggled to stand under the impact. His Large Laser followed through, eagerly devouring the structure of its right arm before severing the limb at the elbow. The Crusader’s pilot managed to keep their footing under the assault by leaning on a warehouse for support, the building crumpling under the weight.
“Greene,” he called out over his command channel. “Take your lance and head to grid Echo-Niner to support our allies. It looks like they could use our help.”
“Roger that,” Greene replied. To his side he could see his Chameleon and the rest of his lance in motion, quickly darting around the edge of the battlefield.
He quickly changed channels again. “Don’t worry, Major Vujic,” Lewis announced, sounding pleased with himself. “Help is on the way.”
—--
Violetta gritted her teeth. The last thing she wanted was to admit failure in front of the Screaming Demons' commander, but the situation had not turned out as planned. “Confirm,” she briefly replied. “Reinforce cavalry lance.” Her command lance could hold for the moment, but Maeve couldn’t do much while pinned down.
She had to advance. She didn’t doubt Maeve’s capabilities as a pilot or a commander, but knew that she was in a bad situation. And a knot in her gut said that she wanted to be the one to help out her captain, as much to keep her unit’s reputation intact as…
Instead she faced her own adversaries. A Behemoth and Ontos advanced on her position, the Behemoth keeping her pinned down with a constant barrage of autocannon fire. She warily eyed the Ontos, knowing the kind of firepower it could unleash at close range. She needed to break them up.
“Command three, break left and advance. Draw their fire,” she said. There was a moment’s hesitation before the Helios pilot acknowledged. The Batllemech Launched into the air, firing down on the Behemoth tank and peppering its body with short-range missiles. The Behemoth rotated its turret, trying to track the jumping ‘Mech.
With the pressure off, Violetta broke to the right, circling around the tank. A pair of precise shots from her gauss rifles crashed into the side of its turret, shattering one of the sizable autocannons. Wounded, the Behemoth retreated across an old used car park, grinding civilian vehicles under its treads. It took shelter behind an office block. “Too late,” Violetta said to herself. Her Gunslinger’s Beagle Probe had been tracking the vehicle, and showed its location clearly. She put another two slugs straight through the office building, which punched into the Behemoth’s turret, ripping it asunder. The massive tank came to a grinding halt.
A brilliant flare of light to her right caught Violetta’s attention. The Ontos tank had brought its full firepower on her lancemate’s Helios. Eight lasers burned their way up the BattleMech’s flank, cutting their way into its leg and torso. Rivers of molten slag washed off the Helios’ body, exposing delicate components within. As the blinding flare faded, the heavy ‘Mech took a tenuous step forwards, but something gave way in its leg and it came crashing to the pavement.
It was worth it for the distraction, she thought to herself, eyeing the crippled Helios. She gritted her teeth and swung around to fire on the Ontos. A pair of gauss shots went wide as the tank turned to bring its weaponry to bare on her. Before it could fire, two flights of long-range missiles streaked in from behind. They peppered across the tank, tearing into its tracks and stopping it dead. A quick glance revealed their source - Lewis Guise’s Archer had freed itself from its own engagement.
“Their commander’s out of action,” Guise commented over the command channel, his tone making it clear that he was the one responsible for putting them down. “I have this.”
“Jackson!” Violetta yelled out. Her second in command spun the Longbow’s torso and fired. An endless swarm of missiles disgorged from the massive BattleMech, raining down on the tank. The Ontos simply vanished under the sheer volume of detonations. Violetta smirked in her cockpit and said to herself “Mine’s bigger.”
—--
While the situation had changed, Maeve was still bogged down. Reports were coming in of the Screaming Demons' medium lance harrying the rear of the enemy’s armour. Her lance’s Griffin and Lynx had broken cover to join in the assault. But for now, she had her own problems.
The Demolisher’s heavy autocannons were keeping her at bay, and its ballistic armour made her gauss rifle less than effective. While her Scourge’s lasers could cut through it with ease, she hadn’t been able to close to get an accurate shot. Furthermore, the enemy’s dug-in infantry forces had been taking potshots at her. As much as she hated the miscellaneous detachment, she could see their use right about now.
“Cavalry two, come in. Could do with some help,” she called out as she maneuvered between buildings. The Demolisher was nicely entrenched in a train station, giving it cover from its sides. Maeve knew she couldn’t take it out on her own.
“Cavalry two. I have a Musketeer on my tail, close to your position,” came the report from the Verfolger’s pilot.
An idea came to mind. “Cut in, Cavalry two. Let’s change dance partners.”
“Copy that,” was the reply. Maeve could almost see the smile on his face. Quickly turning the Scourge, she cut back the way she came. Soon she could see the Verfolger sprinting down the road towards her with a heavy hovertank trailing close behind her. Her lancemate cut in his jump jets, soaring into the air and giving her a clear shot at the advancing hovertank. Her gauss rifle cut into its front, while the lasers seared along its side, shredding the lift skirt to ribbons. The Musketeer careened out of control, spinning frantically down the road at her. Avancing, she aimed a solid kick at the out of control hovercraft. Her Scourge’s heavy foot crashed into the hovercraft’s side, lifting it up and flipping it onto its back.
At the same time the Verfolger soared into the sky. Briefly confused, the Demolisher raised its autocannons, trying to track the airborne ‘Mech. Rapid-fire shells streaked past the Verfolger as it arced overhead. It fired its lasers and particle cannon down on the ensconced tank. They cut into its ballistic armour as if it wasn’t there, opening up a gaping hole in the tank’s front. The Verfolger landed on the train tracks, straight ahead of the damaged tank. With nowhere to move, it tracked its autocannons back down, raining impacts across the heavy BattleMech’s body. Unphased, the Verfolger fired again, its barrage cutting straight down the line and boring into the damaged tank. The Demolisher’s massive autocannons abruptly cut out, signaling the end of the vehicle.
“Nice work, Cavalry two,” Maeve said, seeing his handiwork.
“Right back at you, boss,” he replied.
Maeve flicked over the comm channels on her dashboard. “Cavalry one to Reaper lead. We’re in the clear.” She smirked from her cockpit and added “Do you need me to hold your hand?”
Violetta scoffed to herself. “Negative. Reinforce the Demons, as planned.”
“Copy,” came Maeve’s reply.
—--
Violetta watched the cavalry lance move out on her tactical display, and smiled despite herself. In a way, Maeve’s acerbic quips were reassuring. It meant the pressure was off, and things were finally going to plan.
-----
-
Lewis Guise could see that the tide of the battle had well and truly turned in their favor. His flanking action had been a success, with Greene taking a lot of pressure off the Reavers’ forces. Already he could see the Mandragov forces collapsing back, doing their best to consolidate what they had left while trying to extract themselves from a losing battle.
And it’s all thanks to me, he told himself with a smile. My intel, my plan, my saving the day.
He let loose a volley of missile fire directed at a retreating Bulldog tank. The warheads smashed into the vehicle, savaging its already depleted armor across the side and turret. The searing blue beam of his large laser added to the assault, slicing through the depleted protection and piercing through into the tank’s interior. A moment later he saw the top hatch open, the crew clambering out as black smoke began to pour from the rents in its hull.
Ahead of him, Marko’s Kosheci continued to pour fire into the enemy lines, punishing those that were unable to get away from him. A quick glance at the display told him that his lieutenant had suffered some damage, but was definitely still in the fight. The Exhumer next to him had lost one of its arms, but that didn’t seem to have bothered the MechWarrior as they continued to press their own assault.
Lewis took a moment to glance at his own tactical display. He’d so far suffered only light armor damage, with his Archer being otherwise unharmed. His biggest concern at this point was running out of missiles.
On the other side, it was clear that Madragov’s forces were in full retreat. They’d already suffered punishing losses, ones that would be made worse by the amount of salvage that they would be leaving behind. Perfect, he told himself as he continued his advance. Everything has worked out just as I had hoped.
-----
After ejecting from her Crusader, Geena de Silva had done little more than run. She’d tried her best to find cover, eventually taking refuge behind a building that had not yet been caught up in the fighting.
In many ways, the experience was humbling for her. In her short time as a MechWarrior, she had become used to seeing the battlefield from up on high, protected by thick armor and with an arsenal of powerful weapons at her disposal. Now that she was trying to flee the battle on foot, she’d come to realize just how terrifying a BattleMech looked from the point of view of someone on the ground, and just how insignificant she was. She may have been the commander of this force, but right now she barely warranted any attention.
Taking a moment to catch her breath, she activated her communicator. “This is actual to all forces. I need a pick-up ASAP.”
There was a pause before a reply came over, crackling with static. “What is your location, actual?”
She wanted to call out a map grid location out of habit, but didn’t even have that at her disposal. Instead, she desperately searched around. “Behind a building, a block back from the wreckage of my Crusader.” It was the only landmark she could think of, even if it pained her to mention it.
“Roger that. On our way,” the voice replied.
She glanced around again, doing her best to take in the situation. While she didn’t have all her command and tactical systems at hand, it was clear that her forces were withering under the assault from these invaders. Whoever they are, Mandragov needs to know, she told herself.
-----
The dust had settled over Barandov. Conflict had scarred the city as far as could be seen. Violetta Vujic drew her Gunslinger up to face Lewis Guise’s Archer, where the late afternoon’s sun cast its long shadow over the fallen Crusader.
“A good clean victory,” she said to her opposite number. “We’ve routed Mandragov’s forces from the region.”
“After the Demons came to your aid,” Lewis replied. Unseen in her cockpit, Violetta scowled at the man. She knew he would hold this over her for as long as he could. For now, she ignored him.
“We’ll be able to move on Tirana unopposed. It’ll be good to finish this off.”
“After we have re-armed,” Lewis interjected. “Naturally, I’ll be claiming this Crusader as salvage.”
“Of course,” Violetta all but spat her reply. Sadly with the outcome of the battle, she wasn’t in a position to argue. Instead, she turned her BattleMech away to form up with her unit. She stood by what she had said; it would be good to be done with this contract once and for all. Especially to be rid of Lewis Guise.
-
LIC Surveillance Log 553-271D
Baroness Giana Sigonella: This is an unexpected pleasure. I had not expected to ever hear from any of you, let alone two of you at once.
Ruhi Panja: I think you for your time, Baroness Sigonella, as well as your willingness to listen to us.
Christoforo Salera: Given the current fluidity of the situation, I appreciate the opportunity.
Sigonella: And by that, you two both mean the soon to be end of Mandragov and his empire. A moment that I suspect you both are entirely in favour of, while at the same time, fearing what comes next.
Salera: That would be a fair assessment, yes.
Sigonella: I can understand your sentiment. So far, the Assembly’s efforts have been entirely focused on his empire. After all, he had the biggest army and held the most territory of all of you. In fact, more than most of the rest of you put together.
Panja: This... is true. We both feel that as soon as Mandragov is put down then the assembly will come after us.
Sigonella: I can see where this is going. Neither of you have any desire to lose what little power you have, or to face justice for what you’ve done.
Panja: I mean, we could both try to dress it up as what was needed in the wake of the power vacuum created by the Falcons’ withdrawal, but you are correct.
Salera: We know that the Assembly would like to see us both hang.
Sigonella: So then you would like me to persuade the Assembly to... what? Not send their mercenaries after you?
Panja: We were thinking a cease-fire. We would effectively renounce all claim on Mandragov’s former holdings and let the Assembly resume control of them. In return, the Assembly will leave us be to continue running our current holdings.
Salera: We would also stop fighting each other as a sign of good faith, to prove that we are a viable alternative.
Sigonella: Interesting. I suppose I could sell this to the Assembly with some effort. I know that there are those that would be willing to listen if it meant they wouldn’t have to hire mercenaries and continue funding this little war.
Panja: Do you think that would work?
Sigonella: Right now, reunification is a popular cause, but there are those who don’t like having to pay for it. And while Major Farris has proven to be a popular figure with the media, we cannot guarantee that the same would happen with anyone else we hire. I can definitely see avenues for making this work. [Pause] I do have one question, however.
Panja: What is it?
Sigonella: Why come to me to arrange a deal rather than going to Graf Kayserling directly?
Salera: To be honest, Baroness Sigonella, we all know that Graf Kayserling has been... ambitious in his pursuit of reunification, and as such, would be less likely to negotiate with us. However, we both felt that you would have more to gain through this.
Panja: And in addition, should this work out, we would both be very grateful to you and willing to aid you in... whatever matters may occur in future.
Sigonella: Very well then. Give me some time and I will see what I can arrange. But I feel that this could be beneficial to all of us.
-
Guest chapter by KayEmm and Zogster
Titanfall
Tirana, Alwaid
Esteros
Dimitri Mandragov looked over the map, fully aware of what it represented. A few months ago, he effectively controlled Alwaid. From its heart, he ruled a string of cities that stretched across its length and breadth, their loyalty ensured by his army. The Esteros Assembly, the planet’s legitimate rulers, were divided against themselves, and lacked the ability to enforce their rule over the continent. Those other warlords around him had been cowed by his strength, and had chosen to let him be rather than risk being destroyed.
And then it had all fallen apart. The Assembly had hired mercenaries to restore their vision of order to the continent, which meant bringing down his empire. Two other mercenary groups had joined in the campaign; while he did not know what their objectives were or even who had hired them, it was clear that their goals included the destruction of his empire. In the course of only a few weeks, his Empire had been dismantled and the bulk of his armies destroyed.
He heard the footsteps entering the room. Without even turning, he knew who they were and likely what they had to say. “Report?” he asked, more a formality than anything else.
“Our scouts have confirmed that the mercenaries are holding position in the western hills,” Tansel Sayyid reported.
“As expected,” he grunted. “And the eastern front?”
“For the moment they are still east of the Georges River,” she added.
He glanced at the map, figuring their locations. The eastern front was still several days away at best, and there were still remnant forces between them and Tirana. On the other side, the western front was basically upon him, with nothing left between them and the city. “I see.” He considered. “I suppose there is no sign of our supplier.”
“None,” she admitted.
He nodded. Their mysterious supplier had been the element that had made him, supplying him with BattleMechs and tanks in exchange for minerals and some service to be rendered in the future. However, they had not been seen since the arrival of the mercenaries on the world, making him wonder if the two had not been unconnected. At this point, a shipment of fresh ‘Mechs would have done little more than given him more warm bodies to throw at the enemy, but it would have still been better than nothing.
“And the other warlords?”
“None of them have made any moves,” she replied. “Most likely they are trying to shore up their own holdings.”
“Of course,” he nodded. He had neither sought out or expected any aid from the other Warlords, knowing that they would be more concerned about their own survival than anything else.
There was an awkward pause. “What are your orders, sir?”
He continued to glare at the map, as if he could will a better solution out of it. “We have no choice,” he considered. “Surrender is not an option. The Assembly will want to bring us down as a sign to the other warlords that they are reasserting their power. I expect that they will have us executed to send a message.” He tapped the map.
“Could we go to ground?”
“We spent ten years hiding from the Falcons,” he considered, which Sayyid quietly nodded to. “I do not think either of us want to do that again.” Even at the thought, old memories began to bubble back to the surface, ones that he thought that he had kept well buried.
“No,” she admitted. Sayyid had been one of his first followers and had fought alongside him for years.
“So we fight,” he simply replied. “We either drive them back, or we die trying. Either way, this will be our last battle.”
-----
Outside Tirana, Alwaid
Esteros
From her vantage point in the rocky foothills beyond Tirana, Lana Kotovski surveyed the city. It was spread out across the flat hollow before her, stretching from the base of the foothills to the great lake beyond. Much of it seemed to be industrial plants churning away to bring the warlord Mandragov his wealth, but in the distance she could make out the capitol building, seated on a rise above the rest of the city.
She passed the binoculars to Kaitlyn Farris, pointing out the encampments far into the city. “Looks like Mandragov’s had plenty of time to dig in and reinforce. Layout gives us almost no cover on approach.” She indicated then to the sweeping docks on the far side from their approach. “Harbourside is probably the least defended, but we can’t make much use of it. Anyway you look at it, this is going to be a grind.”
“I have to agree there,” Kaitlyn replied as she looked over the view of the city. It seemed oddly familiar to her, even if she had never seen this particular view before, a reminder of places past. “I’m still worried by how fast his army folded against us. Either there were less of them than we were lead to believe, or he has managed to consolidate a bigger force than we have planned for.”
She paused. “I would like to think that it’s the former rather than the latter. Even then, I’m worried that there might be something else going on that has led to this collapse.”
“Given his efforts to delay us, I’m going to assume the latter,” Lana replied. She paused a moment, placing a hand over her earpiece as she took in reports from her unit. After a moment, she nodded and returned her attention to Kaitlynn.
“We’re probably even on raw numbers. Our combined units have got more BattleMechs, but his armour is going to be entrenched and make us pay for every block.” She indicated to a quartet of tanks on the rise up to the capitol. “Worst part is, he’s got a lance of Partisans up by his headquarters which is going to make air support dicey.”
“Dug in tanks are going to lack mobility,” Kaitlyn considered. “Especially in a city. What if we start with some of our faster elements, like jump-capable BattleMechs, to try and break them up a bit?” Leon Mackinaw’s recon lance was immediately coming to mind, as well as one of the Star’s lances, led by Jakub Day. “That could force them out of cover or distract them before we move heavier elements in.”
Another thought crossed her mind. “I could have Captain Snegwort rush his units in and drop off my Battle Armor teams as well.” In a densely packed urban environment, Battle Armor could use the cover to their advantage and wreak havoc on tanks. “It is risky, but I think that could help us a lot.”
She handed the binoculars back to Lana and then adjusted her scarf. “Maybe have him come down from the hills through the lighter outer suburban area, then drop off the Battle Armor and pull back before engaging with the tanks.”
Lana nodded in earnest. “This sort of environment definitely favours Battle Armour, and we’be got reason to believe the enemy doesn’t have any of their own. Even if they don’t do significant damage to Mandragov’s armour, they can disrupt and confuse them.” She looked out over the city to where Kaitlynn indicated. “I can deploy my Battle Armour forces alongside yours, then spread them out from there.”
“That makes sense to me,” Kait nodded. “I only have a single platoon of my own, but I think this will work.”
“Once we’ve broken up their armour, we should get a clear shot to that Partisan lance. Take them out, and we can bring in our fighters.” While Mandragov’s supplier had bulked out his BattleMech and conventional armour forces, they had seen little sign of air superiority from the warlord. Lana had been itching to make use of their units’ combined aerospace assets, but so far the degree that Mandragov had scattered his forces made that impractical.
“Agreed. I can roll in my own fighters as well and break up whatever Mandragov has in reserve near the capitol. We’re going to need it too, since that’s going to probably have his heaviest hitters.”
By the time Kaitlyn had finished, Lana was grinning from ear to ear. “I like it. Let’s run it by our officers and map it out. Pick out your strike team. I have a good idea of who I’m using.”
—--
It had become their ritual. Jakub was surprised to find himself using the word so easily, but there was no other way to describe it. He sat next to Iulia Dragan, eyes closed in silent contemplation, as the aroma of Iulia’s mixture wafted over the pair of them. He was never sure if it was something in the plants she burned, the time spent in forced relaxation or just the act itself, but at least some part of this ritual calmed his nerves before a battle.
And he knew that today he would need it.
His eyes fluttered open, and he looked over to his friend. Iulia peered at him in her own unique way, understanding without judgment.
“You are nervous,” she stated more than asked.
“Not really,” he found himself saying, quite to his surprise. “I’ve got a big role to play today, but I’m pretty sure my lance can handle it. I’m really eager to work with the Iron Knights’ strike team, though.”
“I am sure you will do well,” she replied as she took a deep breath. “You are a capable MechWarrior. I have seen that already.”
“I’m more concerned about everyone else,” Jakub replied. About you, he added, but not out loud. “The main forces are going to be taking the brunt of the firepower for us to pull this off. It’s… I know there’s going to be casualties.”
“It is always a risk, and a part of what we do,” she nodded. “We have to accept it, but we can also do what we can to prepare ourselves.” She indicated to the burning mixture. “A part of this is an offering to my own spirit, so that it will guide my hand and eye, but also protect me in return.”
“Keep her safe,” Jakub said quietly to himself.
As the pair peeled off, Jakub spotted Iulia’s Marauder in amongst the Iron Knights’ BattleMechs. While both mercenary units had repainted their equipment in camouflage appropriate to the terrain, the Marauder stood out in its distinctive red and black scheme.
“Sorry to pry, but… I’ve heard some of your staff calling your ‘Mech by its own name. Fantoma Rosie?“ He looked at Iulia. “I was wondering why you call it that.”
“Red Ghost,” she replied. “Because that is what my mother called it, and her mother before her.”
“There’s a few ‘Mechs around the unit with their own name. Mine’s called Princess, for some reason.”
“Princess...” Iulia mused, and then smiled a little. “Interesting”
Jakub gave an awkward shrug. “I don’t really know why it’s called that, but is had the name for as long as its been with the unit. Maybe longer.”
“Your ‘Mech bears that name, and yet it is also my title,” she explained. “You and I, we work together on this to prepare ourselves and our friends for this battle. Maybe it was not chance, then that we came together like this. Yes, I think that this was deliberate, an act of fate.” She nodded. “The universe moves in mysterious ways, and everything happens for a reason. Like...” She cut herself off. “But I think that yes, we are meant to work together.”
“You don’t…” Jakub faltered, nervous. Iulia watched him for a moment, silent but somehow encouraging. “It’s just that, well you said Gilgamesh was cursed but… Is there an opposite?”
Iulia nodded. “Definitely,” she replied without a moment’s hesitation.
—--
In a quiet corner of the forward field base, Kaitlyn had just gotten up from her own prayers when she heard the footsteps behind her. Sighing, she turned around to see the figure there that she had expected, her second and friend, Iulia Dragan. However, the look on Iulia’s face immediately told her that something was amiss. “What is it?” she asked, getting straight to the point.
Iulia stepped closer, her voice low. “I did not want to tell Day or any of the others, but there is something you need to know about Mandragov.”
Kaitlyn immediately glanced around, making sure the pair of them were alone. “Go on.”
“I was reading into his past,” she continued. “How he survived for so long against the Falcons, and how that may influence what is to come.”
“And what did you find?” Kait had every reason to trust her friend’s insights, so if she seemed concerned then her reasoning was likely sound.
“I think that he is using death magic.”
Kaitlyn blinked for a moment as she tried to process the assessment. “And I will assume that based on the name alone that is a bad thing.”
“Yes,” she nodded. “Death magic makes its user powerful by drawing on the sacrifices of others. Mandragov has survived for so long because he has had other people to die for him; their deaths sate the spirit he has bargained with, who then gives him the power he needs.”
“I see,” Kait considered. “And this will make him hard to defeat.”
“Yes. Death magic is powerful, but it comes with a terrible price. Mandragov will be a deadly opponent, but ultimately, he will fall.”
“He’ll fight to the death and try to take as many of us down with him as he can.”
“Well that sounds bad.” The pair of them turned to see Leon Mackinaw standing nearby. “Didn’t mean to snoop, Major, but I couldn’t help but overhear the rosy news.”
“Well that should not bother you,” Iulia replied, her eyes narrowing.
“Look, I admit that I have been… less then entirely respectful,” he spoke up. “And I apologize if I offended you. It’s, well, it’s my background and personal experiences speaking here.”
Kaitlyn gave a small nod, remembering when Iulia had first tried to explain how her magic worked. “It is a lot to take in.”
“It is and, well,” he took a deep breath. “The truth is, I actually deeply appreciate your insights, Lady Dragan. I might not be the best at expressing it, but I do mean it.”
“I… understand,” Iulia nodded. “And I can tell you are sincere too.”
“So,” he nodded. “Death magic. How do you fight that?”
-----
“Everyone ready?” Lana called out as she strode between her unit’s BattleMech’s. Asa and Peyton quickly fell into step behind her. Off to one side, she noticed Andreas and Rochelle sharing a quick kiss before the Battle Armour commander peeled off to her own unit. Lana couldn’t help but smile as Andreas rejoined the command lance.
“I think we’re ready,” Katarina said, pulling up alongside her as they headed out. “We’ve got a solid plan, a good estimate of the enemy and reliable allies.”
“Go on,” Lana said with a smirk.
“Go on what?” Katarina asked.
“Admit this has worked out.”
Katarina gave a theatrical sigh. “You sent us running blind into a dangerous situation beyond the scope of our contract that has only worked out because we happened to run into a friendly mercenary unit that shared our goals.”
“But you just said it worked out,” Lana replied.
The pair of them stopped at the foot of Gilgamesh, Lana’s Battlemaster. Katarina gave a quick glance up at the towering assault ‘Mech before looking back to her commander. “Fine, yes. Given all that… It’s worked out.”
Lana’s only response was to smile at her friend, and Katarina shook her head in dismay. “One more battle and we’re done,” Lana finally said.
A thousand possible retorts came to Katarina’s mind. Instead she looked at her commander’s earnest face and simply saluted. Lana returned the same snappy salute, and the pair turned to their own BattleMechs.
—--
-
Leon Mackinaw’s Phoenix Hawk soared over the maze of pipes and industrial buildings below him as shots went off around him. Landing the forty-five ton machine as gracefully as he could, he quickly squeezed off a trio of shots at a Vedette tank that was trying to bring its turret to bear on him. His PPC smashed through its armor, with the two medium lasers adding to the carnage as they sliced into its tracks.
The damaged tank tried its best to wheel around, even as it became clear that its mobility had been compromised. A burst from its autocannon clipped the Phoenix Hawk’s leg, shaking him but doing little to actually hurt him. Before it could fire again, he took off once more, moving around the facility to break line of sight and force the enemy tanks to chase him.
He could see that the rest of his lance were doing the same, vaulting between buildings while making hit and run attacks on the enemy armor. They were massively out-gunned by the tanks they were up against, but the point was not to stand and fight. Rather, they were doing their best to confuse and disrupt their opponents and break up their formation. The ECM suite carried by his Phoenix Hawk was only adding to that effort by jamming the enemy communications, reducing their ability to effectively communicate and coordinate.
Another burst of autocannon fire went past his ‘Mech, grabbing his attention. Leon came down in a courtyard, pivoting towards the source of the attack as he did. A Patton tank lumbered forwards out of cover, bringing its turret around to bear on him again. He didn’t give it the chance, ducking to one side as he opened up on the heavy vehicle with his own weapons.
The PPC and lasers lashed into the turret, smashing through the armor, sending debris flying. Something must have fouled the rotator, as the turret abruptly stopped moving, locking into place. The Patton’s crew clearly were aware of the problem as they tried their best to move the lumbering tank to face him. However, just as abruptly, they stopped.
A glance at his tactical display told him why. “Daggers three and four, look out!” He shouted over the command channel.
Sterling Bogerman’s Spider and Bob Wash’s Wasp both leaped over a building towards the courtyard, and right into the Patton’s line of fire. At the last minute, the Spider twisted in mid-air, jinking out of the line of fire. The Wasp was less fortunate, with a stream of autocannon shells tearing its left leg in half. Deprived of control, the Wasp crashed into the wall of a building before slamming into the concrete.
“Bob!” Sterling called out over the command channel, a note of urgency in his voice.
The Patton turned again to face the downed Wasp, with Leon quickly adjusting to track it. Both he and Sterling opened fire, their weapons slamming into the rear of the tank and hungrily eating through its armor. There was a momentary pause before an explosion tore through the tank, flames pouring out of the rents in its armor.
“I’m okay,” Bob’s voice came over the command channel. “Hurt like hell, but I’m okay.” He had bought his Wasp to a sitting position, propped up on the stump of its leg.
“You sure, buddy?” Sterling asked.
“I’ll be fine,” he managed. “You guys get going. You have a battle to win.”
—--
Andreas didn’t like this part of the plan. It wasn’t that the command lance was serving as a glorified distraction that bothered him. It’s that the plan called for close in urban fighting, which his Crusader was direfully ill-equipped for. For the moment, the Star’s command lance was picking their way along the massive container docks at Tirana’s far edge. Lana had made sure the enemy had spotted her Battlemaster early on, to better draw them away.
For now it seemed to be working. While they had kept ahead of the enemy forces, he also knew that wouldn’t last. Even as the thought crossed his mind, his radar pinged with sudden contacts. A pair of Galleon light tanks sped out from between massive warehouses, bisecting the command lance. The pair split up, one wheeling at Andreas and Asa’s Marauder. Both tried to track the light tank as it scurried between containers, but neither was able to get a solid lock. The Galleon rounded a corner at point-blank range with the Asa’s ‘Mech. Its front blossomed open and it disgorged a swarm of rockets into the Marauder’s underside. Andreas could swear he saw the heavy ‘Mech lift into the air from the countless detonations before it pitched backwards and vanished into the lake.
Andreas swore and opened fire. Lasers and machine guns from his Crusader’s arms traced across the Galleon as it shifted into reverse. Spent, the light lank beat a hasty retreat, only to be replaced by a much bigger threat. A Bulldog tank trundled into view, angling its turret at him. Andreas broke off his pursuit, rapidly backpedaling away. Before he could find cover, the tank opened fire. A crackling burst of blue lightning spat from the turret, rocking his ‘Mech with the impact. It followed up with its missile launchers, peppering impacts all across the Crusader's body.
He struggled to return fire. The Bulldog was just too close for his long-range missiles to be effective, and the streak launchers at his hips refused to find a targeting solution. His lasers and machine guns found their mark, but they barely scored the Bulldog’s dense armour. They exchanged fire as he circled around it, trying to gain range on the tank. The massive cranes around the dock absorbed much of the Bulldog’s missiles, but it’s particle cannon struck home again, staggering Andreas in place.
Suddenly the water behind the Bulldog erupted in a massive spray. The pockmarked form of Asa’s Marauder emerged from the harbour. Still standing waist-deep, it brought its heavy particle cannons to bear on the tank’s rear. Blinding blue lances of energy struck out, cutting deep into the Bulldog’s poorly protected back. At the same time, Andreas finally scored a lock from his streak missiles. He opened fire, sending impacts all across the Bulldog’s front. Two flights of missiles from Asa’s Marauder also tore into its back. A massive detonation blew out of the tank’s shattered rear, and the thing went still.
“You alright?” Andreas asked, looking over the battered Marauder.
“Yeah…” Asa replied, between gasps for breath. “I really hate city fighting.”
“Tell me about it,” came Andreas’ response, before the two turned to rejoin their lance.
—--
Rochelle’s Battle Armour squad jetted from rooftop to rooftop, bounding between the array of pipes, scaffolding and walkways that dominated Tirana’s skyline. All around them, the squad could see the Iron Knights’ various Battle Armours dispersing throughout the city. Rochelle had been working closely with her opposite number from the other mercenary unit. In particular, they’d pored over maps of the city together before the assault, looking for vulnerabilities.
Her squad rapidly approached their target. A Myrmidon tank and a Sheriff IFV had parked themselves at the top on an incline, between two towering industrial blocks giving them a commanding view down the broad approaching road. Rochelle’s squad came to a rest atop one of the plants, effectively hidden amongst the industrial equipment that jutted out of the building. From their vantage point, they could see a pair of Eye company’s BattleMechs, a Griffin and a Dervish moving to advance on their position.
What the ‘Mechs couldn’t see was Mandragov’s armour forces repositioning. A collection of medium and heavy tanks were maneuvering behind the industrial blocks, and would soon be able to bring withering fire down on anyone approaching.
“What’s the play, boss?” her second asked.
Rochelle paused a moment as she checked the situation. A heavy walkway stretched between the upper floors of the two plants. “Arm your satchel charges and set them on the supports,” she ordered her squad. It took a moment for them to fill in the details of the plan, but she was soon met with a round of confirmations.
The squad jetted into action, splitting up either side of the walkway. Rochelle headed for the far end, and clamped onto the support struts underneath it. Below her, the Myrmidon and Sheriff were firing downrange at the approaching BattleMechs. Volleys of long-range missiles roared their way uphill in response. They roared beneath the walkway, impacting the two tanks. Rochelle could feel the force of the explosions from above, and tightened her grip on the supports.
The Sheriff trundled backwards in response to the returning fire. Its change in perspective must have let it spot the squad, as its turret mounted autocannons angled upwards. Rochelle reached for the satchel charge and armed it. The autocannons on the Sheriff barked, spraying munitions across the walkway. She recoiled in pain as shells impacted across her back and the satchel charge slipped from her grasp. Her Battle Armour suit lunged down and barely caught it by a trailing strap.
Her squad responded with a spray of machinegun fire down at the Sheriff. “Dont’ worry about me. Get those charges set!” Rochelle slung the satchel upwards, tangling it in the walkway’s supports. Around her, she saw jet plumes from her squadmates as they launched away from the walkway. Rochelle detached her magnetic clamps and boosted away, keeping ahead of the Sheriff’s fire.
She triggered the charges. A quartet of well-placed explosions removed the walkway’s supports. There was a groan of twisting metal and tearing structure as its own weight did the remaining work. The Myrmidon must have realised what was happening at the last minute, since it began to roll backwards. However it was too late. The walkway tore itself loose and toppled down between the buildings, tearing into their sides. The mangled arc of metal slammed into the road, blocking it off and trapping the Myrmidon beneath it.
Rochelle’s squad landed on the far roof. She could see the results of their handiwork already. The approaching tanks ground to a halt, then began to shuffle among themselves, trying to sort out new paths and approaches. The Dervish and Griffin easily jetted over the obstruction and made short work of the remaining Sheriff. Aside from her own suit, the squad remained undamaged.
“Nice work,” she said. “But we’ve got a lot more ahead of us.”
—--
The Battlemaster was designed for this duty. Data from all over the battle, both from the Star of Sumer and Iron Knights’ units was being fed into its advanced battle computer and presented on a tactical display. Lana Kotovski could see Mandragov’s forces repositioning throughout the city, being slowed and harrassed by the combined mercenary units. Their diversions had worked perfectly.
She double-checked the monitor to confirm. Strikes on their flanks had drawn out much of the heavy armour within the center of Tirana. The way through was now vulnerable.
Lana keyed over her comm system to reach all members of their combined forces. “The enemy forces are broken up. Our plan proceeds.”
—--
“Strike teams, path is clear. Take out those Partisans.” Lana’s voice rang out clearly in Jakub’s cockpit. This was the move they’d been waiting for.
“Comet recon, up the middle!” He ordered. He hit the Shadow Hawk’s jump jets and rocketed above the cluttered industrial buildings around them. He could see the three other ‘Mechs of his lance shooting into the air around him. They arced towards the center of Tirana, where a broad road led up to the capitol district. The four BattleMechs hit the road running, bearing straight through the middle of the city.
Here and there the road was pockmarked with makeshift emplacements, signs of the defenders who had been called away to assault on other parts of the city. Kaitlyn and Lana’s plan had worked, giving them a clean run at the air defenses. Or at least, mostly clean. Missiles arced down from a nearby rooftop where infantry lay in wait. They scored across the side of Jakub’s ‘Mech, staggering him as he ran. He adjusted the controls and kept the Shadow Hawk on its feet, barely missing a step.
Before he could respond, a brilliant laser lanced through the air, searing into the infantry’s emplacement. Leon Mackinaw’s Pheonix Hawk jetted into view, bringing more fire to bear on the rooftop. His own lance followed swiftly behind, adding their own fire to the dug-in defenses. Even though it was clear that they were missing a ‘Mech, the rest of the lance were moving quickly and efficiently, doing what they could to suppress their opponents and clear the way.
Soon the Partisan tanks were in range. The assembled ‘Mechs fired as they ran, sending laser, particle, autocannon and missile fire straight ahead into the stationary tanks. They Partisans returned fire, spraying the advancing BattleMechs with clusters from their powerful autocannons. As they closed, Jakub fired a volley from his Shadow Hawk’s shoulder-mounted missile launcher. The missiles burst in front of the Partisan tanks, filling the air with thick black smoke and obscuring the two lances from view.
As one, his lance jetted into the air. They came down, spread amongst the emplaced heavy tanks. A smattering of fire from infantry on the ground greeted them, but Rowan’s Firestarter quickly silenced them. The ‘Mechs under his command struck out at point-blank range, eating into the vulnerable air-defense tanks. Mackinaw’s lance followed suit, and Jakub saw a dazzling array of laser fire cut through the Partisans. Leon discharged his particle cannon into one of the tanks’ turrets at point-blank range, consuming it in a dazzling discharge of blue-white lightning.
In moments, it was over. The quartet of Partisan tanks were scattered around them, destroyed or disabled. Already Mandragov’s forces were rallying to the square. The Shadow Hawk turned to Mackinaw’s Phoenix Hawk, almost as if it were the two BattleMechs acknowledging each other’s work rather than the pilots. In one motion, the two lances took to the sky, jetting away from the scene. “Skies are clear,” Jakub reported, but smiled when he was proven wrong. Already, he could see their combined air wings soaring in for the kill.
—--
-
When Dimitri Mandragov had received his first shipment of BattleMechs from his mysterious backer, he had handed them out to those that had been with him the longest. Many of those, such as Sayyid, had been resistance fighters during the Clan occupation of the world. He chose them not because they were the most skilled or experienced, but because they were people that he knew he could trust, and who would not let their own ambitions over-ride their loyalty.
As his army had expanded, he had maintained that core group, transforming it into a personal guard unit. Their position was as much a reward as anything else, ensuring that they would have the power and prestige that came with being MechWarriors, while for the most part not risking themselves in actual combat. On those occasions where they had engaged with enemy forces, they had been an overwhelming force that crushed their enemies.
And that was what Mandragov was hoping they would be today.
He sat in the cockpit of his Titan, watching the battle unfold on his tactical display. “Enemy forces have broken through the hills district blockade,” a voice came over the communicator, crackling with static. “We’re trying to regroup.”
A look at the map told him all that he needed to know. The mercenaries would be headed for the central district, aiming to eliminate him and his followers and end his reign, just a he had expected. The forces he had put in their way might have slowed them, but had not stopped them or inflicted enough losses to give them pause.
He glanced to one side at Sayyid’s War Dog for a moment. It was gathered there with the other BattleMechs of his personal unit, some of the heaviest and most powerful that his backers had supplied him with. A smattering of tanks and infantry rounded out their force. And even if we defeat them, there is still the other force coming from the east, he considered. But we do not have any choice.
“All units, this is Mandragov,” he ordered over the command channel. “Move out.”
-----
Lieutenant Washington had given a report of the enemy forces in the center of Tirana as she’d come off her strike. While she could have done more, the damage to her fighter was enough for Kaitlyn to over-ride her and order her to break off the attack. The information that she’d provided had been helpful no less, painting a very clear picture of what Mandragov had left in reserve.
It was just what they had expected; a block of heavy BattleMechs with accompanying tanks, holding the center of the city. Perhaps Mandragov was hoping to defeat the forces thrown against him, buying time before the Esteros Assembly could throw more mercenaries at him. Or perhaps, as Iulia had suggested, he was making a last stand, determined to take as many of his enemies with him as possible as a part of an elaborate death ritual.
Either way, she knew that they had to stop him here.
Having used their lighter elements to open a hole in the enemy perimeter, the next stage of the plan was simple. The Iron Knights and Star of Sumer would simply advance with their heaviest assets and bring the sheer wall of firepower available to them to bear. Mandragov’s remaining forces included his most powerful BattleMechs, but she was confident that they had enough to defeat him through sheer brute force if nothing else.
Her tactical display began lighting up with contacts as she advanced into the city. Ahead she could see the central district, its buildings already scarred with weapons fire, and now crawling with enemy forces. “This is Knight Lead to all units,” she called out over her command channel, her voice crisp and clear. “Pick targets and engage at will.”
As she spoke, she dropped her sights onto an enemy Griffin that had been leading an advance. As soon as her reticle flashed in range, she thumbed the trigger to unleash her dual Extended Range PPCs. The heat from the weapons washed into the cockpit as they unleashed their hellish energies, sending twin bolts of searing blue lighting towards the enemy ‘Mech. The shots slammed into the torso, sending it staggering back, its LRM launcher already reduced to wreckage.
Around her the other Iron Knights did the same, a hail of laser, PPC and autocannon fire reaching out to find their targets, while long-range missiles soared overhead. Their opponents did the same, with the wounded Griffin managing to snap off a shot with its own PPC that hit the Warhammer’s left leg. The shot failed to penetrate the thick armor, and did little more than give her a moment’s pause.
Perhaps realizing just how out-matched it was, the Griffin leaped backwards away from her, seeking its own cover. Even as it did, a Thanatos pushed forwards to take its place, its PPC unleashing a storm of energy. The shot smashed into the side of a building, blasting it apart and sending chunks of concrete flying. As the enemy ‘Mech readjusted for another shot, it was hit by a pair of PPC blasts from Iulia’s Marauder, searing armor from its broad chest.
A quick glance at her display told Kaitlyn that her forces were already enmeshed with the enemy. “Keep going!” She called out as she twisted her torso to track the Thanatos. “And do not let up!”
—--
It had been a long winding path, but Lana had led her command lance into the forefront of the battle. The capitol district lay open to them, and with it came Mandragov’s staunchest defenders. The battle had already been joined by the time she arrived. to her left, she could see Kaitlyn’s own command elements engaging Mandragov’s BattleMechs. Before she could turn to assist, her own unit came under fire.
The quadrupedal form of a Barghest advanced on her lance. Its massive autocannon erupted with fire, targeting the Marauder at her side. Asa’s ‘Mech was slammed by a hail of shells and stumbled, collapsing forward. A moment later she saw the cockpit blow open and her lancemate eject, soaring into the sky just before the Barghest’s particle cannon ate further into her downed ‘Mech.
“Asa, report!” Lana barked out as her lance angled to fire on the Quad ‘Mech. Her own particle cannons joined Peyton’s gauss rifle, but the Barghest was too well ensconced among the capitol’s towers. Andreas’ missiles fared better, raining detonations across its body.
A crackling confirmation came from her ejected pilot, injured but alive and most importantly safe from the batte. Before Lana could respond, the nimble form of a Starslayer jetted in amongst them. It fired its oversized particle cannon as it descended, splashing artificial lightning across the Gallowglas’s chest. As soon as it touched down, it aimed a vicious kick at the Crusader, leaving the heavier ‘Mech staggering backwards.
The command lance seemed to balk at the intruder among them as they turned to bring their weapons to bear. “Stick together, don’t let him-” Lana began, but was interrupted by the Barghest’s fire. She yanked her stick to the side, angling the ‘Mech’s torso to take the brunt of the fire on its left side. The autocannon raked down the Battlemaster’s arm, mangling it but leaving her ‘Mech otherwise intact.
A pair of particle cannons shot out of nowhere to impact into the Barghest’s side. Lana glanced aside to see Katarina’s Warhammer striding purposefully onto the field, trailed by her own lance. The Barghest began to withdraw, but Lana brought her own weapons to bare on it as well.
“Sorry I’m late,” Katarina said.
“I’d say you were right on time,” Lana replied. She triggered a full fusilade of Gilgamesh’s particle cannons. Heat flooded her cockpit but she shook it off, satisfied to see one of the Barghest’s legs buckle under the assault.
To her side, the Starslayer seemed to think better of its interference run. It swiftly launched into the air, bounding above a barrage of retaliatory fire. Andreas’ Crusader locked on to the rapidly departing ‘Mech and fired a volley of streak missiles from its hips. They arced upwards and drove into the retreating BattleMech’s rear. Impacts shook across its body, tossing the Starslayer around in midair. The BattleMech’s graceful arc turned into a face-first plummet, and it crashed out of sight.
As one, the two lances turned to bring their fire onto the limping Barghest. Its cannons barked out one last time, cutting into a Rifleman at Katarina’s side. A torrent of cannon, missile, laser and particle fire all crashed down upon quad ‘Mech, which quickly collapsed under the sheer weight of the assault.
“Alright,” Lana began, panting slightly from the pressing heat in her cockpit. “We link up with Faris’ command element. Cover each other as we advance. We win this thing together.”
—--
On his display, Mandragov could already see how the battle was going to end. His forces were doing the best to hold the center of Tirana, but the attackers were proving to be far more determined and capable than they had hoped for. Persistence, aggression and sheer firepower had done more for them than his forces could resist. One by one, the icons representing his own forces were winking out, while those of the enemy seemed to be endless.
But he was not about to give up the fight that easily.
His Titan pushed forwards, the massive war machine striding through the rubble-choked streets that had once been the center of the city. His city. Other members of his command force were with him, forming a wall of fire that aimed to push back the oncoming tide, if only by sheer force of will. Surrender was not an option; he had no doubt of what the Esteros Assembly had planned for him. They might dress it up as justice or a move aimed at reunifying the planet, but he knew that they needed to make an example of him.
And so they would fight until the end. And, if nothing else, he was going to ensure that he would make them pay for every inch they advanced in blood.
An enemy Griffin bounded forwards, trying to sneak past his force and strike at their flank. Its PPC and missiles lashed out, striking at the Crossbow on his side. The shots caused the heavy ‘Mech to miss a beat before replying with its own laser and missile fire, scoring hits on the Griffin’s flank. While the enemy ‘Mech was damaged, it continued to move, trying its best to make its way around the edge of the formation and continue to press its attack.
Without a word, Madragov pivoted the Titan’s torso to track the enemy BattleMech, keeping it firmly within his sights. He opened up with its twin particle cannons, ignoring for the moment the wave of heat that washed into the cockpit as he did. The shots had a measured effect, smashing into the Griffin’s side, sending chunks of armor and structure flying and leaving the enemy BattleMech reeling. It staggered and began to backpedal; not out of the fight, but it’s MechWarrior clearly reconsidering their plan.
A rain of long-range missiles scattered among his formation, with the Crossbow taking the worst of it. The barrel-armed ‘Mech staggered back, one of its arms knocked askew and a clear crack across its canopy. As it tried to regain its footing, a Thunderbolt pushed forward, taking advantage of the distraction caused by the combination of the missile fire and the Griffin’s attack. Its weapons fire raked the already-damaged Crossbow, tearing through its depleted armor to strike at the systems within. The ‘Mech collapsed under the assault, crashing to the pavement.
Mandragov didn’t spare the fallen a second thought, instead bearing down on the Thunderbolt as it tried to duck back. He didn’t give it a chance, instead opening up with the Titan’s secondary arsenal in a vicious assault of lasers and short-ranged missiles that shrouded the blocky BattleMech in a halo of explosions. With one arm destroyed and much of its flank reduced to smoking wreckage, the Thunderbolt staggered back in an effort to break out of the line of fire and avoid another assault.
More missiles came in, mostly hitting Sayyid’s War Dog. His sensors spotted the source of the attack, a Catapult that was backing up the Thunderbolt. The pair of them replied to it, with his PPC fire joining her Gauss Rifle to strike at the heavy BattleMech. The armless heavy ‘Mech reeled under the attack, but remained standing for the moment, having managed to weather the assault. None the less it pulled back along with its compatriot, clearly not wanting to risk another volley.
“They’re baiting us,” Sayyid commented.
“Agreed,” he replied. “Don’t let them lure you in. Stand your ground, make them come to us,” he ordered, his tone leaden. “They are mercenaries; they will cut and run when this gets too expensive for them.”
Deep down he was wondering about that last part. Even though it was what he would have expected, there was something about these mercenaries that bothered him. The two separate forces had been willing to work together, to share salvage and coordinate to destroy his forces. They seemed to have been driven by a desire to complete a thorough job, not just to simply do what was expedient and would fulfil their contract. It was especially concerning given that according to his sources, one of those units had been hired by an off-world power.
It was something that he would have to look into if he survived today.
Shots from the Griffin hit the side of Sayyid’s ‘Mech, bothering its thick armor but not stopping it by any means. She turned to reply, unleashing her own weapons in reply. While the Gauss rifle went wide, darts of green laser fire danced across the Griffin’s chest and did enough to stop the pilot from becoming too confident in their continued attack. A smattering of missiles and laser fire joined the attack, as the Crossbow’s MechWarrior bought their machine back to its feet.
He snapped off a pair of PPC shots at the Catapult that smashed into the BattleMech’s leg, causing it to stumble under the assault. The wounded Thunderbolt stepped forward to protect its college, opening up with its weapons. More shots scored into Sayyid’s armor, scoring into it, but leaving it still standing. That was enough to make him glance at his own damage display, a quick inspection telling him that he was still nearly pristine despite all the fighting around him.
As the wounded Griffin leaped away, more contacts appeared on his display, all in a glaring red that made it clear that they were hostile. A part of him knew that his plan had worked; he was luring out the enemy to face him and what remained of his force directly. And the other part knew that he was now facing their biggest guns, the ones that could bring the most firepower to bear.
One of them made that much apparent as it stepped forward. A blocky Warhammer IIC opened fire with its twin particle cannons, unleashing a storm of artificial lightning towards his force. The two shots slammed into the damaged Crossbow, drilling through the depleted armor in its chest. The beams tore through its body, excess energies leaking out the back of its ruined structure before the heavy BattleMech simply crashed to the ground. Even though he couldn’t see its damage display, Madragov already knew that this time it would not get up.
Emboldened by the hit, the other enemy BattleMechs pushed forwards, despite the damage they had taken. The Thunderbolt and Catapult contributed their own missile and laser fire, lashing those ‘Mechs around his own. He responded in kind, PPC and laser fire streaking back towards the enemy machines, his determination to end their threat more than enough to allow him to ignore the heat washing into the cockpit. This time his shots made their mark, one of the PPCs burning through the Catapult’s wounded leg and snapping it in half. The enemy ‘Mech crashed backwards into the rubble, the Thunderbolt moving to cover it.
For its efforts, the Thunderbolt received a shot to the chest from Sayyid’s Gauss Rifle that crushed most of the remaining armor. It staggered back, but remained standing over its downed colleague as it returned fire, its depleted arsenal not doing much to stop her. Behind it, a Marauder stepped forward to support the pair of them. Unlike the other ‘Mechs who were wearing a functional camouflage scheme, the newcomer sported a distinctive red and black striped pattern.
The Marauder opened fire with its own twin PPCs, the weapons lashing out. One of them narrowly failed to make its mark. The other went straight into the cockpit of Sayyid’s War Dog, drilling through it and killing its pilot in an instant. Deprived of control, the heavy BattleMech crashed to the ground at his feet.
That gave him pause. Not for the death of his loyal second who’d had his back for a decade. Rather it was the realization that had the shot gone a little higher, it would have gone into his cockpit instead.
More fire from the Warhammer IIC grabbed his attention. One of its PPCs smashed into the arm of his Titan and the other into a leg, smashing into the thick armor but not penetrating it. The impact shook the massive assault ‘Mech, but he barely felt it. Instead, he turned to focus on his attacker. Clan-made assault ‘Mech, he considered, recognising the design as one that had been deployed by the Falcons during the occupation of the world. That has to be one of their leaders. Eliminate them and I weaken their resolve.
He opened up the throttle, the Titan bearing down on the enemy assault ‘Mech. Then, at the last moment, he fired its jump jets. The cockpit shook as a hundred tons of BattleMech took to the air on pillars of flame, leaping over a half-collapsed building to move into the Warhammer’s flank. It was a risky move, but he figured that the enemy wouldn’t expect it, giving him a chance to close down the range and bring his arsenal to bear.
And as he dropped his sights onto the Warhammer and opened fire, it replied in kind. The ‘Mech leaped backwards, his missiles tearing though the space that it had occupied a moment before. At the same time, he became abundantly, painfully aware of the ring of red icons around him on the display.
—--
-
Years of experience had taught Kaitlyn to respect Iulia’s insights; even if they did seem strange at times. But even then she had been surprised by just how her assessment of Mandragov had proved correct. The PPC shot that had felled the War Dog should have, by all rights, gone through the cockpit of his Titan instead.
That was why she had put herself on the line, using herself as bait. She figured that he would see her as being important due to the ‘Mech that she was piloting, and come after her. She had also hoped that he would not know about her own jump jets, and not been ready for what she was going to do next.
As the Warhammer IIC came down from its jump, she opened fire on his Titan. Her particle cannons led the assault, smashing into the monolithic BattleMech’s armor, actually forcing it to take a step backwards. Two pulse lasers followed up, stitching lines across its body. On her display, Kaitlyn could see that the Titan was already burning hot, the result of its prior unsuccessful assault. Hopefully that would limit his response.
Instead he opened up with a barrage of lasers, following through with missiles. Shots scored armor from the Warhammer’s hull, while impacts rocked the eighty-ton machine. As she was shaken in the cockpit, Kaitlyn kept one eye on her damage display, seeing that her own armor had held under the assault. Gritting her teeth, she thumbed the trigger again, opening fire in reply as she tried to ignore the combination of damage and the heat in the cockpit.
One of her PPCs smashed into the already damaged arm, blasting it off at the elbow, while the other hammered into the Titan’s side, failing to penetrate the armor. Her pulse lasers added more damage to the assault, but nothing nearly as dramatic. Despite the assault, the Titan remained standing; even as it was burning hot on her tactical display, it seemed to be continuing to fight on regardless of the damage and heat it was struggling under.
Once again Iulia’s words came to mind. A bargain with death. He’s sacrificed literally everything to it. She glanced at her display as she backed her Warhammer up, trying to use what range she could get. But I have my own allies.
They both fired again. Even struggling against his own heat and damage, Mandragov continued to push his ‘Mech as far as he could. More shots rocked the Warhammer IIC, smashing armor and rocking the BattleMech. Red lights came on across Kaitlyn’s status board as several systems failed under the assault, heat sinks among them. At the same time, she let fly with her own weapons, the PPCs lashing the Titan, while pulse lasers followed through to further savage the armor. A flight of short-range missiles added to the carnage, but yet the Titan remained standing.
Another pair of PPCs smashed into the Titan, one of them burrowing through the side of its chest to incinerate the missile launcher within. A cluster of autocannon pellets added to the damage, further worrying its systems. Glancing to her side, Kaitlyn could see Iulia’s Marauder advancing on her flank, its weapons directed at the Titan.
“Surrender!” She called out over her loudspeakers, her tone blunt. “We don’t need to end it like this!”
His reply was to open up again with what was left of his weaponry, even if the combination of the damage he had suffered and the massive heat burden that his ‘Mech was struggling under hampered its effectiveness. None the less, shots battered Kaitlyn’s Warhammer, eating though the already depleted armor to threaten its systems. Fighting against the controls, she managed to keep the BattleMech standing and pointed towards her opponent. That’s how it's going to be, she admitted to herself. He doesn’t want to surrender, just die. She glanced at the Marauder at her side before turning back to her opponent. You were right again.
Doing her best to manage her own heat, she replied with another volley of fire. This one had a dramatic effect as one of the PPCs ripped into the damaged side of the Titan, apparently setting off some of the remaining ammunition inside it. The flank of the ‘Mech erupted in flames, sending debris flying and staggering the huge war machine, and yet it managed to somehow remain standing through the assault. Iulia added her own fire, her PPCs and autocannon adding to the assault. And yet, it remained standing as if to defy her.
More PPC fire struck the Titan’s hulk, brilliant blue energies lashing the ‘Mech, bathing it in their power. Shots shredded what was left of the armor, then tore into its structure to devour whatever they could find, with weapons, heat sinks and even the remaining arm being destroyed in the barrage. Glancing around, Kaitlyn could see the source of the attacks; Lana’s BattleMaster and Katerina’s Warhammer, both advancing to join her.
In the center of her display stood the Titan, or at least what had once been it. The monolithic BattleMech had been reduced to a burning hulk, its shape barely recognisable, crowned with a mangled stump of a head. For a moment, it stood there, as if somehow defying them. Then it simply surrendered to the inevitable, crashing to the ground with an earth-shaking crash.
Kaitlyn let out a breath she didn’t even know that she was holding. “It’s over,” she managed, weariness coloring her tone. “Thanks.”
-
Guest chapter by Zogster
LIC Surveillance Log 546-267A
Captain Maeve Cullen: What are you doing up here? You should be celebrating.
Major Violetta Vujic: Celebrating what, exactly?
Cullen: How about our unbroken string of victories?
Vujic: Hmph. Yeah, sure.
Cullen: C-Bill for your thoughts.
Vujic: I’m worth more than that.
Cullen: Forget it.
[Silence]
Vujic: Sorry.
Cullen: Wow, she does have feelings.
Vujic: Don't push it.
Cullen: Okay, what’s really eating you? And don’t say it’s the contract, because lately its been a pushover.
Vujic: That’s just the problem, though. Demos sold this whole “Warlord Mandragov” exercise on the salvage. But all we’ve had lately are just minor skirmishes. We’re barely making back the ammo.
Cullen: What about the battle at Barandov?
Vujic: Well that’s the thing, isn’t it? Bloody Guise came out of that looking like the hero, so he jumps on all the salvage. Meanwhile we get bogged down with a bunch of heavy tanks and have nothing to show for it. I’ve barely got enough actuators left to get Jurgen’s Helios back up and running.
Cullen: That was just bad intel.
Vujic: Was it though? Because if you wanted to make the Reapers look bad, you couldn’t have done better.
Cullen: Okay, now you’re being paranoid. Besides, who would benefit from making us look bad in front of the Screaming Demons? Wait, no...
Vujic: Come on, even if it wasn’t intentional, he’s definitely taking advantage of it. You’ve seen how he’s been smooching up to Guise. He’s basically got that sleazebag convinced he’s in charge of the whole operation.
Cullen: Yeah, but that also means that Lewis is walking the Demons straight into enemy forces. At best, he’s going to take the brunt of it when the hammer falls.
Vujic: And at worst, he’s going to get all the glory and salvage.
Cullen: [Sigh] Well then, we’ve just got to show him what we’re really about. I’ve known you a while, but you’ve never been one to let some trumped up little weasel get the better of you.
Vujic: Are you talking about Lewis or Demos?
Cullen: Take your pick. So when we track down Mandragov’s forces, we take the lead and show everybody just what we’re made of.
[Pause]
Vujic: You give me so much s***, Maeve.
Cullen: It’s what I’m good at.
Vujic: But you’re right. We’ve got no reason to play second fiddle to Guise, Demos be damned.
Cullen: That’s the spirit.
Mechwarrior Jackson: Sorry to interrupt, Major –
Cullen: Aaah! Blake’s hairy tits, Jackson, don’t do that!
Jackson: - but Demos wants to see you.
Vujic: I’ll be down in a minute.
Cullen: You go. Give him what for.
Vujic: Yeah. Yeah I will. C’mere, you.
-
Guest chapter by KayEmm and Zogster
Fission Mucking Accomplished
Vadani Forest, Alwaid
Esteros
With the path clear to Tirana, the idea had been for the Red Reapers and Screaming Demons to advance overland to the capitol. While the going was slow, the vast Vadani forest provided cover, especially from a force that lacked aerospace support. After their victory in Barandov, they had faced only minor resistance on the road to Tirana. If all went well, they would assault Mandragov’s capitol with the element of surprise.
What they had not expected was to encounter a ragged column of troops fleeing from the capitol. Greene’s scout lance had come across a motley collection of battered tanks and tired soldiers. Rather than engage, Greene had let them blunder into the main column where almost two companies of BattleMechs were waiting for them. The remnant forces had quickly surrendered.
And so it was that Jackson stepped out of the back of the Reapers' mobile headquarters, where the impromptu leader of the warlord’s leftovers was being housed. Violetta Vujic and Lewis Guise both waited to hear what he had discovered. Jackson wiped his hands on a rag which came away red as he approached the pair. He came up short and saluted the pair.
“Mandragov is dead,” he declared bluntly. “Mercenaries hit Tirana and crushed his forces.”
Violetta felt the delight growing in her. She’d gotten tired of this world, tired of this campaign and its ever-growing scope, tired of the weasley man she’d been made to work with. But now it was all over. She felt like cheering, like laughing in someone’s face - maybe Guise, maybe Demos, their employer - but kept it in for now.
“Dispatch Yasir to confirm,” Violetta said. Without another word, Jackson turned and departed. She glanced to her now former partner Lewis. By now, she couldn’t contain her smile. “Quite the turn-up, huh?”
“It is a bit,” Lewis Guise replied, a confident look on his face. “I dare say that whoever these mercenaries are have done our job for us. And, you know, better that they suffer the casualties that come with it then we do,” he added, his confidence only growing. Even then, there was an ever so slight edge to his voice, like there was something else going on that he wasn’t talking about.
“What matters is it’s done,” Violetta said. “We were tasked to take out the warlord, and he’s dead. And if we didn’t have to expend our own men, then all the better.”
“That’s exactly my thought,” he agreed. “Major Vujvic, I have to admit that this has been a most profitable alliance, one that has benefitted both of us. And I think that we would both do well by continuing this alliance afterwards.”
“You mean keep working for the Malthus Confederation?” Violetta shot back, her smile turning into a knowing smirk. She watched Guise’s face for a moment gauging his response. “Oh, don’t be coy. I know you’ve been getting into Demos’ good books. I can respect that,” she finished with a nonchalant shrug, adding internally At least.
“Well, you know how it goes,” Guise replied, his tone clearly stumbling a little as if he had not expected to be called out on his ambitions. “We’re mercenaries, and we need to find paying work. If he’s going to potentially provide that, why shouldn’t I be friendly with him?” He was sounding a little defensive, but more importantly, it felt like he was trying not to reveal just how badly off his unit actually was. “After all, we have worked well together. This partnership has been good for both of us, and I see no reason why it shouldn’t continue.”
“It’s… not been what I expected.” She looked Guise up and down, as if appraising him for the first time. What she found however, she kept to herself. “Still, I won’t argue with the result. Now all we have to do is wait around for the jumpship.”
Viloetta spared him a crooked grin. “This deserves a celebration.”
—--
The news had spread through both units like wildfire, and it did indeed seem like a celebration was in order. An abandoned truck stop had been declared the site of the party, once it had been thoroughly looted for its remaining supplies. By the time night had fallen, a scattering of the two units’ BattleMechs stood in the truck lot, surrounding a bonfire. Some enterprising soldiers had strung up a banner declaring “Mission Accomplished” between the Gunslinger and the Archer.
Morale was higher than Maeve had seen in a long time. The ample supplies of junk food and alcohol they’d liberated certainly didn’t help. More than anything she noticed as she strolled among the revelers was that members of the two units were finally mingling. They’d kept their distance both on and off the field, but now she could see them partying together. She passed the two separate infantry commanders, each trying to outdrink the other; both somehow having somehow lost their shirts. Kavya, her Griffin pilot was carousing loudly with one of the Demons MechWarriors. Even Demos was getting into it, roasting some kind of aromatic concoction over the bonfire.
And then there was Karloff, the Miscellaneous Detachment’s Calliope pilot. Maeve pulled up short when she saw the scruffy man standing rock still, staring into the bonfire. “Someone’s got to be responsible,” she muttered to herself. She took Karloff by the shoulders and gently steered him away.
—--
If there was one person who didn’t seem to be feeling celebratory, it was Marko. He’d spent most of the party simply looming at its edge, slowly nursing a drink while watching everything unfold. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust the Red Reapers (well, maybe not as a whole, but definitely some of their members deserved a second look) but simply that he didn’t like them at all.
“What’s bugging you?” Greene interrupted his train of thought. The scarred recon lance commander was clearly already tipsy as he approached, a bottle in hand. “We won, right?”
“Sure,” Marko grunted out.
“So lighten up man,” he continued. “Enjoy the damn party. This has been a total turn around for us.”
“Yeah,” he took another sip of his drink.
“And I know things didn’t work out with Siggy, but look at how things have gone for us since,” he continued. “We’ve made off like bandits on the salvage already. And that Demos guy clearly likes us.”
“I suppose he does…” He continued, again not exactly committing to the idea.
A pair sauntered up to them. Jackson was immediately recognisable as Vujic’s eternal shadow. And while he stood straight and alert, the fair-haired man with him was all but draped on his side. Against all expectation, Jackson smiled and presented a deck of cards. “Care for a game?”
“Sure,” Greene beamed as he glanced around. Marko could see that there was an old barrel and several stools nearby that would serve as a table, and he’d definitely played cards in worse places.
“Why not?” Marko added as he joined them. Jackson was one of the people he didn’t like, but that was largely because he’d barely engaged with the man. Now he was seeing an opportunity.
“Jurgen,” the blond man said unprompted, leaning in to greet them. The smell of alcohol was clear on his breath. He glanced back to the towering man at his side, and indicated to him. “Jackson,” he added. A thought occurred to him and he said “Jackson and Jurgen,” running a finger between the pair. “Only our mother can tell us apart,” he added, before breaking out into a fit of laughter.
“Figures,” Marko grumbled. “Four-Card Drax?”
“Good choice,” Jackson said, his voice deep and smooth.
It took them a moment to set up around the barrel. Jackson shuffled the cards like a pro, sliding them between his hands with dizzying speed. Soon enough, they were all seated with their initial hands laid out before them. The sounds of celebration faded into the background as they focused on their cards.
“It’s… dunno,” Jurgen said, staring at his hand. “I mean, she gets results, right? The Major?’ Jackson nodded cautiously in response, eyeing Jurgen. “But back in Barandov, she just kind of fed me to that Ontos tank. I’m not saying it was a bad call, I mean it worked out but, y’know…” He grimaced at the thought of what could have happened. “And I’m thinking like, was that for the mission or was it just to save her hide?”
“I know what you mean,” Greene commented as he intently studied his cards. “They get all high and mighty over the fact that they’re in command and all, but what do they actually know, right?”
Marko just gave the slightest grunt of acknowledgement as he looked over his own hand. It wasn’t fantastic, but he suspected he was holding better then either Greene or Jurgen judging by how they were playing. Jackson was another matter.
“Now I don’t know if you know, but Major Guise weren’t our commander when we got here,” Greene continued.
“Seriously?” Jurgen asked, recoiling in surprise. “Honestly, you wouldn’t know it the way he struts around the place.” He waggled his shoulders for emphasis, then cackled at his own performance.
“That was Major Russel. ‘cept he bought it in our first major battle on the planet. So then you know, Guise steps up and is all ‘I’m the boss now because I was his executive before’,” Greene added, pausing only to take another round from his drink. “Now Guise will claim he got that job because he had actual military experience, but you know how he actually did it? He kissed Russel’s ass every step of the way. Didn’t even wait till the man’s corpse was cold before he declared he was the leader either.” He took another card and stared at it awkwardly in a way that made Marko wonder if he was trying to figure what to do with it or just too drunk to read it.
“Real piece of work,” Jurgen replied before taking a long pull from his beer. “Now I’m not going to say the Major doesn’t play favourites…” He trailed off for a moment. While the drunken MechWarrior may not have noticed Jackson’s stern gaze, Marko certainly did. “I dunno. You two seem like the level headed guys around here. How come you’re not running the show?”
“Because Guise was a better ass-kisser,” Greene replied, all while squinting at his cards. “By the time that Russel was killed he’d basically made sure that everyone in the unit was on his side. And when he declared he was the boss, nobody was gonna say no to him.” He took another swig from his drink. “And then he made sure all the people who’d backed him were rewarded.”
Marko was keenly aware that Greene was also one of those people, but he said nothing and simply focused on the game.
“I bet that’s how it goes with you guys too,” Greene continued. “Whoever kisses the major’s ass the most gets the best stuff.”
“Look, you know what it’s like. Some people get special treatment, you know? Or they can get away with stuff, you know?” Jurgen went to pull from his beer bottle before realising it was empty. Instead, he tossed it over his shoulder. “Like take Rickie. Guy gets his own custom ‘Mech, gets his own lance, gets to run off and do whatever he wants.”
Jurgen turned and clapped a hand on Jackson’s shoulder. “Or the big guy here. He’s just a MechWarrior like me, same lance, same rank, but everyone knows he’s the boss’s favourite. Heck, guy’s basically the second in command.” He finally looked up at Jackson’s disapproving gaze, and quickly added “No offence, man.”
“What’s the deal there?” Greene asked, maybe a touch too loudly.
“Her father wasn’t around. I was,” Jackson replied in a tone that brooked no further discussion.
Marko found that last point interesting, but Greene was again letting his mouth run wild. “Like, I get mercenary families and all that, but there is a lot to be said for actual experience.” He was all but waving his cards around as he spoke. “Major Russel was an actual RAF officer before he was a merc. Guy needed to actually work to get where he was, not just be lucky enough to have had his parents be the right people.”
Marko knew that major Russel had also been dishonorably discharged from the RAF and that his rank was largely self-appointed, but he didn’t feel the need to add that point either. Instead he just remained focused on the game and his opponents, Jackson specifically. It was clear that the man was close to Major Vujic, and that meant he was worth keeping and eye on.
Jackson caught his eye. There was a subtle movement, as the taller man glanced at one of his cards, then the top of the deck. Marko narrowed his eyes and looked over at the other two. Both Jurgen and Greene were getting into it with each other, airing petty grievances instead of paying attention to the cards. Marko gave a slight nod of understanding, and the two men returned to their cards.
“Raise,” Marko said, bringing the others back to the game. A shadow of a smile flickered over Jackson’s face as he matched Marko’s bet. Maybe this would turn out after all.
-----
-
If asked, it was doubtful that anyone in either of the mercenary units could say where the couch came from. And yet, there it was, commanding pride of place in front of the bonfire. Naturally, Lewis Guise had claimed it for himself. He’d been having a good time, simply enjoying the party and letting himself relax for a moment after a hard-fought campaign. Somebody else defeating their enemy for them was only making it that much better.
He let his eyes wander over the party and take it in. The Screaming Demons and Red Reapers were freely mingling with each other and clearly enjoying themselves, something he was all for. It kept morale up and it meant that their alliance could only grow stronger. And there were, of course, other benefits that he could exploit as well.
His eyes fell on one of the Reapers MechWarriors who was dancing with one of his own. Not too bad looking, he considered as he looked over her. Maybe I can convince her to join me on some joint maneuvers. He chortled to himself as he looked around, noting Cullen, the Reapers’ second having some sort of altercation with one of their other pilots. Though she’s not bad either, and higher ranking too. Pity she’s such an uppity bitch.
“Major,” came a voice at his side. Violetta Vujic had appeared, looking down on him with a surprisingly friendly smile. In one hand she carried a bottle of brandy; the other held a couple of delicate tumblers.
“Major,” he replied with an appreciative smile. “Good to see you. Looks like things have worked out so very well for all of us.” Of course, she’d be the real prize, he considered. And looking good is her best talent.
She wandered around the front of the couch and dropped down beside him. The major offered Guise one of the tumblers, then poured a measure of the brandy. “Pulled this one out of a private stash in Chort,” she said amiably. “Of course, I imagine you’ve pulled off any number of trophies yourself while you were here.”
“Absolutely,” he beamed. “This little escapade has been good for myself and my men. We have done fantastically off the salvage we pulled from Barandov and even better from this last lot.” Rebuilding his unit had been his top priority, and this had turned into a golden opportunity. Even accounting for the damage his men had suffered at Barandov, they were coming out well ahead.
He’d quietly tasked Marko with vetting the prisoners they’d pulled to see who they could recruit to fill out holes in their ranks. Of course, he was also going to make sure he got the best people first.
“Some people should be concerned with how fast Madragov’s army seems to have collapsed. But you know what I think, major?” He continued. “I think we should take this as a blessing. We’ve gotten what we came for and we didn’t need to work for it nearly as hard as we should have.” He grinned. “Never look a gift Raxx in the mouth.” He spared a glance at Violetta’s own lips as he spoke.
“To opportunists,” she said, offering her glass. They clinked them together before drinking.
“You know, I’ve heard tell from some of the warlord’s people that they fought a witch.” Violetta paused, her face incredulous. “They say there’s a witch with one of the mercenary units. Can you believe it?”
For a moment he froze, caught in a memory. The red Marauder, and the shot through the face of Russel’s Zeus. Then he shook it off. “Yeah, sure she is,” he replied with a snort. “Probably some crazy woman who thinks that she can do magic or the like because she bought some crystals and a self-help book. You know, probably only got the job because she’s the commander’s girlfriend or whatever.” He gave a derisive snort. “Not like the types who actually have to work for a living, am I right major?”
“Exactly,” she replied. “I had to wrest control of this unit from its old commander.” Her gaze turned hard and her smile faded as old memories came to the surface. “He was leading it to ruin, and I turned it around. We’ve been rebuilding ever since.”
There was a momentary pause, before the stern look departed. “I hear you have a similar story. Picked back up after losing your old commander?” She cocked an eyebrow at Lewis, eager to hear his own take on his story.
“Well there’s not much to say,” he bean, his tone swimming in false modesty. “We were put in a bad situation largely due to Major Russel’s ineptitude. He was killed, and I had to step up and keep the unit together. Realizing the situation we were in, I was forced to retreat rather than keep fighting a losing battle.” He gave an exasperated sigh, one that was more for effect than any real emotion.
“Afterwards I stepped forward to take command of the unit. Those around me knew that I was the best choice for the position for a number of reasons.” He gave her a small smile. “I was the major’s second, was a big part of it, of course, but it was also because I had real military experience, and I was clearly the best man for the job.”
“So you and me,” he indicated between himself and Violetta as he leaned closer, one arm draped on the back of the sofa, clearly headed to her shoulder. “We’re smart. We keep our eyes on the proverbial prize. We don’t let silly superstitions or other things get in our way. I mean, you’re-” he paused a moment, as if he was quickly rethinking his words. “-professional, just like me. And we both know that you don’t beat an enemy with magic spells or that sort of thing. Facts and logic, that’s what matters.”
She snorted in amusement. “The life of a mercenary is hard enough without wasting time on stupid superstitions. We have to be hard. Uncompromising.” The shadow from before flickered momentarily across her face. “Do what we must and take what we can.”
“Exactly,” he nodded. “And that’s why I think this alliance is a good opportunity for both of us. We can take what we want and nobody can stop us.” He smirked. “In fact, I think it’d be even better if we pursued a… closer alliance.”
Violetta turned her attention back to Lewis just as his arm brushed her shoulder. She flinched for a moment, glancing down at it before fixing him with her gaze. Her nose wrinkled in disgust, as if she was seeing through him for the first time.
She abruptly stood, looking down on him. “You…” she began, but for once couldn’t find the words. Instead she sneered at the man and snatched the bottle of brandy from the couch. “You’ve had enough,” she spat, before turning on her heel and leaving.
“Bitch,” Guise simply replied to empty air before shrugging it off. “Her loss,” he then added before turning back to watching the rest of the party.
—--
The Scourge’s foot made for a decent perch, half because of its gentle angle and half because it was parked away from the rest of the party. Violetta leaned up against it and took a swig right from the brandy bottle. She stared out into the bonfire, at the people cheering and cavorting around it, and realised just how much she hated them.
Her dark mood was broken by an approaching figure. Maeve strolled towards her, isolated from the rest of the party. She had a pair of skewers in her hand, and was chewing on the meat from one of them. Seeing the scowl on her commander’s face, Maeve offered her the other.
Violetta took it, and stared at it for a moment. “What is it?” she eventually asked.
“Something local,” Maeve replied. “Demos was cooking them up.” She turned and leaned against the Scourge’s foot while Violetta took a bite, and the pair chewed for a moment in companionable silence.
“So, what is it already?” Maeve asked abruptly, annoyance clear in her tone. When Violetta cocked an inquisitive eyebrow at her, she added “How come you’re not out there celebrating?”
“Guise made a pass at me,” Violetta said, her tone carefully neutral. When Maeve didn’t respond, she looked over at her company commander. The woman’’s face was unreadable. Was it concern? Sympathy? Or worst of all, pity? Whatever it was, Violetta hated it. Instead, she broke the tension by asking “Are you jealous?”
Maeve’s raucous laughter turned to spluttering coughs as she all but choked on her meal. Violetta sat by for a moment, letting Maeve sort herself out. Eventually, once she had calmed down, Violetta wordlessly handed her the brandy bottle. Maeve took a long pull and gulped it down, before gasping for breath.
“Sometimes I just want to strangle that guy,” Violetta said as much to herself as to Maeve.
“Just sometimes?” Maeve asked, only half joking. Violetta’s response was just a long sigh. Maeve leaned over and gave her commander a gentle pat on the back. “Well, think of it this way. Soon we’ll be bundled into our own dropships and heading offworld, and you’ll never have to look at his disgusting face again.”
Before Violetta could respond, another figure came into view. Demos slowly strolled over to the pair, a platter in hand. “Major, Captain,” he said to each in turn, nodding to the pair. “Enjoying the party?”
“It’s had its moments,” Violetta replied, glancing momentarily at Maeve.
If Demos noticed the look, he didn’t respond to it. “Glad I could be of service,” he said instead and offered the platter to the pair. They both declined, and instead he balanced it on the Scourge’s foot.
“You must be happy that it’s all sorted,” Maeve said. Demos’ lack of response spoke volumes. Maeve furrowed her brow and asked “It is over, isn’t it?”
“Well…” He said at length, before trailing off.
“Mandragov’s dead,” Violetta said flatly. “That’s what you wanted, right?”
“Well…” Demos said again, and sighed. “Mandragov was an obstacle. Restoring our operations was what I wanted. And unfortunately, a group of mercenaries working for the Esteros Assembly represent exactly the kind of regional stability that prevents that.” He gave an expansive shrug. “So, until they’re dealt with…”
“You bastard,” Violetta growled as she stood.
“It’s the terms of the contract,” Demos replied, surprisingly holding his ground. “Okay, so I’ll admit the scope is a bit bigger than we expected. Again. But, it is what you agreed to.”
“No,” Violetta said flatly. It was clear that was her only response.
Demos gave a theatrical sigh. “That’s a shame. Given all that you’ve done so far will come to nothing. Still,” he perked up, with an entirely inappropriate smile. “I’m sure Major Guise will be happy to comply. Especially if your cut is also on the table.”
Violetta took a step forward, but was stopped by a hand on her arm. She turned to see Maeve at her side. This time the concern was clear in her eyes. “Don’t,” was all she said.
Violetta watched her captain for a moment. There was something more there that reached her, let her compose herself before she returned her attention to Demos. “Alright,” she said. “But you and me are having a long talk after this is over.”
Demos raised his hands in supplication. “Fair enough,” he said. “I’ll go find the other Major and tell him the good news. In the meantime…” He gestured towards the platter he’d left behind.
The pair of them watched him depart, before settling back against the Scourge’s foot. They leaned together in silence for a while, each one lost in their own thoughts. Eventually, Maeve had to admit “He’s right, you know.”
“I hate you,” Violetta replied without commitment.
“Yeah, I know.” Maeve sighed then smiled back at her. Content for now, the pair leaned back and watched the party progress, now uncertain of what lay ahead of them.
-
Guest chapter by Zogster and KayEmm
Spy Versus Spy
Outside Tirana, Alwaid
Esteros
Yasir lay still on his belly, ignoring the cold. He was nestled on top of a small ridge, largely hidden in the broken rise by scattered trees spread along the rock face. Behind him, a much gentler slope was dotted with the same trees, their knife-shaped deep lilac leaves speckling the ground with shade. It was the perfect hiding place. He’d made up a couple of sheets of netting to match the local flora once he’d arrived on Esteros. One was draped over his back, helping him blend into the leaf litter scattered across the forest floor.
But it was the view ahead of him that was his objective. Beyond the broken slopes lay Tirana, capital of the Alwaid continent. And up until recently, the stronghold of Dimitri Mandragov. The Red Reapers and Screaming Demons were gearing up to assault Tirana and depose the warlord. Only it seemed someone had beat them to it.
Yasir scanned the city with a pair of rangefinder binoculars, the most valuable item his commander had trusted him with. To say there was no love lost between them would be an understatement; Yasir had been all but abducted from his homeworld when he threatened to expose the Reaper’s piracy. Since then he’d been pressed into service as a scout, a role he found he’d adapted to well.
He focused on the capitol district. Like Mandragov before him, Tirana’s conquerors seemed to have set up their base there. While he couldn’t make out personnel from this range, the assembled BattleMechs caught his eye.
He thumbed the small recorder that hung from his neck, and spoke in a low voice. Even out here, there was no point in drawing attention to himself.
“Numerous BattleMechs in the upper city. All in appropriate camouflage schemes, but I can see two distinctive patterns being used. ‘Mechs seemed to be separated out…” He trailed off as he scanned the rangefinders across the assembled war machines. “Possibly different units? Hold on.” He focused his attention on one BattleMech with a distinct colour scheme. “There you are. Members of the Demons mentioned a Marauder that killed their commander. Could this be-”
He cut off upon hearing a noise. A quick glance to his left confirmed it was just the native wildlife. A gangly quadruped stood by, fixing him with a cross-eyed stare. It was an odd-looking creature to him, short-statured but with long legs, leading to a thin body. A tiny tuft of a tail flicked with what he could only presume was annoyance. Short lavender fur ran across its body, save for a thick ridge of deep purple up its back that lead to its head. It had a short snout and a pair of comically large ears right by the matte black barrel-
Yasir moved, rolling on instinct more than anything else. Within a split second the ground erupted where he had lain as the peace was interrupted by the crack of a rifle. He flung his netting aside and ran, hoping to confuse his unseen attacker. A second shot tore bark off a tree centimeters in front of his face. Yasir dropped to the forest floor, nestling behind a rocky outcrop that would give him a modicum of cover and a moment to think.
He desperately scanned the forest. The animal had darted away, no doubt escaping at the first shot. He should be so lucky. His ATV was close at hand, hidden under his netting. Yasir cursed that his submachine gun was safely nestled on the vehicle’s back. And finally the shape of his assailant resolved itself. A figure in a simple hat and coat, nestled between a bush and tree trunk and expertly hidden by them. A pair of dark eyes looked out over the barrel of an old-fashioned rifle. Meeting the man’s gaze, Yasir flattened himself against the ground. He had to escape.
—--
While everyone had been engaged in the cleanup in Tirana, Anton Yamashita had been given another task. Lady Dragan felt that there were still more threats to be dealt with, a concern that was born out by the information they had recovered from Mandragov’s men. There was a threat growing in the east, one that had bought down much of the warlord’s army and sped up the fall of his empire. While it had made the Iron Knights and Star of Sumer’s efforts that much easier, it also meant that there was still an unknown force that needed to be accounted for.
He had been dispatched to the east of the ruined city, armed with only his hunting rifle and dirt bike to find that force. His features almost entirely hidden behind a cloth facemask, he betrayed no hint of his identity or where he had come from. He carried a pair of binoculars and a simple communicator, and nothing else. It was how he operated, and had done so on so many worlds in past. And even then, most of those accouterments were things he had picked up along the way; luxuries that made his job easier but that he could live without. He had started out with just a rifle, after all.
After hours in the field he had made contact with an unknown enemy; a lone rider that had come from somewhere to the east and had been spying on their forces. As such, he had two objectives; stop this scout from getting back to his forces, and capture them to find who they worked for. The arrival of one of the native creatures had served as a handy distraction, diverting the scout’s attention as he lined up a shot.
And then, at the last possible moment, they moved. His shot tore into the bark of a tree where the scout had been just a second before. He quickly slid the bolt and fired again, this second shot again passing precipitously close to the target.
His opponent was clearly keen-eyed and aware of his surroundings, darting off into the purple bushes in effort to lose him. Sharp eyed and fast, Anton told himself. An excellent scout. He took off after them, barging through the undergrowth as he chased after his opponent. He ducked and weaved around several more trees, keeping his eyes on his target as best he could. As much as he wanted to, his target was doing their best to prevent him from being able to get off a good shot. Cunning.
He got off another shot, this one again passing so very close to his opponent, instead sensing tufts of purple leaves flying. The enemy scout rolled out of the way, disappearing behind a bush. A moment later there was a whine of an electric motor, followed by another explosion of foliage as the enemy scout took off on the back of an ATV. Their plan was obvious; try and escape and get back to their own forces.
However, he wasn’t going to let them. He instantly turned around, darting back to his own bike. It took precious seconds of sucking and weaving his way through the undergrowth to get back to it, time that meant that the enemy scout was doubtless getting away. That was a risk he was going to have to take in order to chase them down regardless; there was no way that he would catch them on foot, but on his bike was another matter.
Anton leaped onto the bike, kickstarting the motor and immediately taking off. The bike darted forwards, easily weaving between the trees at what would be a precipitous speed to anyone else. He vaulted off a rock, coming down with a jarring thud without losing any momentum and immediately continuing to barrel along at high speed. Ahead he could see his target, driving their ATV at high speed to try and get away.
Not that Anton was going to let him.
-----
Yasir didn’t like to count on luck, but it felt like that was the only reason he’d made it this far. It was pure chance that the animal had revealed the enemy scout to him. He could immediately tell that his opponent was experienced and precise. He felt fortunate to have even gotten to his ATV, and was finally putting ground between them. However, he was quite literally not out of the woods yet.
The high-pitched whirring of an engine alerted him. In is rear-view mirror he saw a rugged dirt bike burst from between the trees, bounding down to land in the scrub and continue unabated after him. He kept an eye on the bike as it gained on him, even as he weaved his thick-bodied vehicle through the trees.
Yasir cursed the very luck that had saved him. The other scout’s dirt bike was far better suited to this, able to wind its way between the trunks with ease. And the rider’s skill and confidence let him do so at breakneck speed, rapidly closing the distance between them. On the other hand, Yasir had to gauge his speed carefully, picking a path in the foliage that his ATV could fit through while trying to keep ahead of his pursuer.
He focused on the path ahead of him. Yasir knew the trees would soon thin out, giving way to rocky hills. His own vehicle would have the advantage there, even though the long lines of sight would make it hard to escape. And while it would be better than picking through the thick foliage, first he had to make it there.
Gripping the handlebars with one hand, Yasir reached down to the saddle holster with the other. He drew out his submachinegun, grateful that he had a compact model. Without even bothering to aim, he sprayed fire wildly behind him. Just.. Stay back! he almost yelled out as the gun bucked in his hand.
—--
The bullets flew through the air around Anton as his bike crashed forwards. His opponent was taking a risk, firing over their shoulder as they drove, but it was also a good way to keep him back. Their compact weapon was one they could fire, even if ineffectually while on the move; something that he couldn’t do with his rifle.
He weaved around behind the quad bike, keeping in the deadzone where the rider couldn’t fire at him, at least not without turning all the way around. That of course would mean not paying attention to where they were going, forcing them to chose between trying to stop him and trying to escape. Of course, at the same time, that still meant Anton had no way to actually stop him. But that did not mean that he was going to let his opponent escape by any means. Not only did they have information on their forces, but they also could be a potentially source of information about this new threat.
He kept the pressure up on his target, riding as close to them as possible while remaining in their deadzone as long as he could. Hopefully that would be enough to pressure them into making a mistake or losing their focus while Anton looked around for an opportunity. To their credit, the other driver was skilled, and was doing their best to shake him.
And then he abruptly broke off from his pursuit, swerving off to one side and disappearing into the undergrowth. The bike’s engine roared as he surged up a rise, taking a path parallel to that of his opponent while keeping them in his sight. Finally he came to the end of the rise, pulling up the bike in a cloud of dirt.
He quickly took out his rifle, drawing a bead on the quadbike as it continued to speed along in their efforts to escape. He shifted his aim ever so slightly towards the engine of the bike, before firing.
—--
Things were not going as Yasir had hoped. He had doubted that he’d be able to hit his pursuer, but had at least hoped to earn some distance with his gunfire. Instead, the other scout had slipped in behind him, where Yasir dared not turn to fire. Still, it meant Yasir knew where he was. He shot off another burst of fire, as much to keep him in place as anything, as he headed for the treeline.
Yasir wound around a thick copse of trees, struggling to keep the ATV under control. It took a moment’s concentration away from his pursuer, but when he checked back the dirt bike was gone. He didn’t dare turn around to scan behind him, instead glancing at the mirror. There were too many places to hide in the receding forest, and Yasir had to assume he was still being followed.
He gunned the engine, taking a risk. The trees were already thinning out, letting him pick up the pace. Soon he would be clear of the forest and his pursuer, wherever they’d gotten to, would have a hard time keeping up. He kept one eye on his mirrors, trying to find some sign of the enemy scout. Nothing. Yasir knew better than to think that he’d eluded what was clearly a skilled opponent. Instead, all he could hope was to outrun him.
A loud crack echoed out over the hills. Before he could register what was happening, the ATV lost power beneath him. He struggled to maintain control, but was thrown from the vehicle as it hit a rise and rolled over. Yasir hit the ground hard, gasping as the wind was driven from him. He managed to bring his arms up over his face, battering them but saving him from the worst of the impact. Still, it felt like every part of him was bruised, scraped and battered. To his side, the ATV bounded past, tumbling down the hill out of sight.
Panic set in. He couldn’t be captured, not again. It was enough that he was pressed into service by the Reapers, but to be brought in by a hostile force he’d been spying on… Despite his plethora of aches, he willed himself to move. Yasir dragged himself to his feet and set off, his stumbling quickly turning to a run. He knew the other scout was somewhere at his back, but his only chance was to -
Another shot rang out, followed immediately by the whizzing of a bullet right by his ear. Yasir froze in place. The enemy had disabled his vehicle moving at high speed over uneven terrain with a single shot. There was no way such a marksman could miss a man on foot stumbling over the rocks… Unintentionally.
This was it then. Yasir raised his hands and placed them behind his head. He slowly crouched down, bringing himself to his knees. And he waited. Staring down at the ground before him, dreading what was to come. Soon enough he heard the crunching sound of boots over the scattered stones and leaves growing louder with every step. Then, silence. The footfalls had stopped right behind him, and he didn’t need to turn his head to know the rifle was leveled at it.
Yasir closed his eyes and waited for the inevitable.
—--
Much like the warlord before them, the mercenaries occupying Tirana had turned the city’s central police precinct into a makeshift brig. Not that there was much need for it until now - the casualties on Mandragov’s side had been near complete among his MechWarriors and many of his conventional forces had simply fled. But now Iulia’s scout had brought in an interesting prisoner.
Katarina watched the boy - no, the enemy scout - through the two-way mirror. He sat rock still behind a table in the interrogation room, head bowed and shoulders raised. Patient but tense. He looks so young, was the thought rattling around in her head, wondering just how he’d wound up in this position and who would use him this way.
Off to the side, Anton finished his report to Iulia, the pair of them speaking in low voices in a language she couldn’t understand. Anton departed, while Iulia joined her at the window, looking in on their prisoner. The women stood in silence, each lost in their own thoughts as they studied him.
“Normal questioning will not work,” Iulia said out of nowhere. Despite herself, Katarina nodded in agreement.
“He’s waiting to be hit,” Katarina realised, telling herself as much as her comrade.
This time, Iulia nodded her agreement. “He does not need an interrogator. He needs a friend.”
-
Guest Chapter by Zogster
Note: This chapter takes place between Knight Star and Titanfall
Summer Camp
Ahmer forests, Alwain
Esteros
“What have we got?” Jakub asked, eyeing the structure on the distant rise. Comet company’s recon lance followed him through the dense purple forest, pushing deeper into Mandragov’s territory. Thus far it had been quiet. Quiet enough to make him worry.
Rowan focused her Firestarter’s Beagle Probe on the hill, examining it for a brief moment. “Looks like a group of light wooden building under a broad shade. There’s a few smaller structures, but I can’t discern their purpose. Also got a watchtower just a bit removed. It’s not military though.” They could hear the confusion in her voice. “Kinda of outdoorsy, but not too much.”
“Scout camp,” Darsh said from his Firefly’s cockpit. “I used to go every summer back on Cajamarca. I bet they’ve got a climbing wall.”
“Huh. That checks out,” Rowan said.
“Sounds real cute,” Wen added from the Nighsky’s helm. “What do you think boss, do we investigate?”
Jakub’s answer was supplied for him. Before he could respond, a flight of missiles shot from the top of the watch tower, streaking towards his lance. “Scatter!” he called out over the comms. They all simultaneously activated their jump jets, launching in different directions. The missiles arced upwards and slammed into his Shadow Hawk’s legs, peppering them with impacts. He shifted the BattleMech’s weight in mid-air, bringing it to a controlled landing and almost immediately launched from the ground again.
The four ‘Mechs in the recon lance bounded over the trees, closing in on the formerly innocuous scout camp. Machine gun fire opened up from the lower buildings, raking across the approaching BattleMechs. At the same time, a truck pulled out from behind the camp, making its way down a dirt road through the forest.
The battle was swiftly joined. Jakub and Darsh closed in on the camp’s low-lying buildings, raking them with laser fire. Jakub sent a short-range missile streaking into a barracks’ open door, which blew out the windows with a satisfying explosion. Rowan bounded towards the watchtower, licking its wooden supports with her OmniMech’s flamers. Surrounded by the fire, a couple of troopers ditched their missile launchers and jumped. Wen dashed past the compound and took to the dirt road, baring down on the fleeing truck. Its back opened up revealing a squad of infantrymen who opened fire on the approaching Nightsky.
For all their efforts, the infantry’s resistance was short-lived. The Nightsky surged ahead, pulling alongside the truck. A mighty blow from its hatchet separated the cab from the trailer. The trailer tipped over, sending the infantry sprawling across the ground even as the cab veered off and slammed headlong into a tree. Back at the camp, the Shadow Hawk and Firefly’s lasers seared across the light wooden buildings, stripping the men inside of cover. Once the Firestarter turned its attention to the camp, the infantry quickly laid down their weapons in surrender.
“All units check in. What’s your status?” Jakub requested. He got a round of confirmations from his lance. Nobody had suffered anything beyond light armour damage, due as much to the speed of their response as the light opposition they faced.
Rowan scanned the remaining buildings with her OmniMech’s Beagle Probe. “Nothing to be found,” she declared after a moment. “No supplies, no munitions, nothing.”
“What do you reckon they were doing?” Darsh asked, eyeing the assembled infantry at their BattleMech’s feet.
“Delaying us,” Jakub replied. As short as the battle was, it would take them much longer to secure the infantry and scour the countryside in case of other surprises. “And it worked. Let’s hope that’s all they’ve still got out here.”
-
Guest Chapter by Zogster
Note: This chapter takes place between Knight Star and Titanfall
By The River
Kamir, Alwain
Esteros
According to the Star’s intel, the town of Kamir was an important waypoint for Mandragov’s forces. Straddling the river Yorel, the warlord had moved much of his troops and materiel across its three historic stone bridges to the western expanse of Alwain. As such, once Van der Kriel’s forces had been broken, it was vital to hold Kamir to prevent further reinforcement of the region.
The situation was not what they expected.
Determined to make and impression on the no doubt battered defenders as well as bring her biggest guns to bear, Lana had strode into town with her command lance. Isaías’ heavy tanks came up the rear, followed by a squad of Battle Armour. And yet, for such a vital position, the streets were empty. No tanks were dug in awaiting their arrival; no infantry were encamped in the low brick buildings. The citizens had cleared the streets, no doubt fearful of getting caught in any ensuing conflict. But it seemed there was none to be had.
“What happened here?” Lana mused, as much to herself as to her forces.
“Could be they bugged out,” Isaías replied. “We hit them pretty hard at Abbeville. May be there wasn’t much left to reform.”
“I don’t know... We don’t wipe them out. A lot of troops just up and fled from both battles. This would be a natural rallying point.”
“We’ll keep our eyes open,” Isaías replied.
They fell silent as they advanced through the streets. Lana surveyed the town as they passed. It was a curiously old-fashioned place, all rustic brick and stonework. Even the wind turbines on a nearby hill had a quaint charm to them. As her Battlemaster passed through the town, she caught glimpses of curious onlookers poking their heads out of the buildings.
“Heat signature,” Peyton suddenly reported. The signal registered on Lana’s monitor, equating to a heavy BattleMech. It was coming from the town’s center, just this side of the river, and the most built-up part of Kamir.
“Command lance, with me. Isaías, take your tanks to the river and circle around.” An idea was forming in her head, both about the situation in the town and its last defender.
The BattleMech’s under her command picked up their pace. As they approached Kamir’s center, they fanned out, ready to box in their prey. No doubt seeing them coming, the sole enemy BattleMech revealed itself, stepping from behind the town hall to advance on Lana.
It was an Axman, or at least what was left of one. While still clearly functional, it was heavily damaged. The BattleMech’s left arm was missing, and much of its left side was torn apart. Thermal sensors showed excess heat leaking from its reactor. Lana couldn’t help but notice mush of the head’s armour had be slagged by laser fire, including melting off one of the BattleMech’s distinctive head fins.
Lana cut in her Battlemaster’s external speakers. “I am Ugala Lana Kotovski of the Star of Sumer. You are outnumbered and outgunned. Surrender.”
The only response the enemy ‘Mech gave was to brandish its hatchet. Peyton’ s Gallowglas brought its gauss rifle to bear on the damaged ‘Mech. “Do we fire?’
“No,” Lana replied over the radio. She turned back to the speakers to address the Axman. “This isn’t a fight you can win. Stand down.”
“Mandragov charged me with the defense of Kamir,” came a voice over the Axman’s speakers.
He sounds so young... Lana thought. “Where did you come from?” She said.
“I was in the battle near Abbeville, by the river,” came the reply. “We had you pinned.”
Before the Iron Knights intervened and routed your forces, Lana thought. “Before that. Where are you from?” She said. Her Battlemaster lowered its massive particle cannon, and after a moment’s hesitation the Gallowglas did the same.
“I’m from Kamir,” the Axman’s pilot admitted after a moment.
“It’s a lovely town,” Lana said, as much to her foe as to the crowd of onlookers that was beginning to gather. “All a battle is going to do is damage it. Neither of us wants that.”
As they were talking, Isaías’ tanks rolled into position. His own Challenger MBT parked itself in the Axman’s rear, angling its cannons up at the ‘Mech.
A quiet message from Isaías pinged on Lana’s console. She glanced at it, and nodded to herself. Just as I thought.
“I have to hold the line for Mandragov’s forces to return,” The Axman’s pilot said.
“That won’t happen,” Lana replied. “I saw what he did here. You’re cut off. He’s already abandoned Kamir and he’s abandoned you.” She gave it a moment to sink in, then added “You’ve got nothing to fight for.”
There was a long, tense silnece before the Axman moved. The heat signature faded as the ‘Mech powered down. Its remaining arm lowered, leaving the hatchet to droop to its side. Lana breathed a sigh of relief.
The Battle Armour squad moved forward, intercepting the Axman’s pilot as he clambered down from his BattleMech. The locals however crowded around the town hall, eager to get inside. In her cockpit, Lana glanced down once more at Isaías’ message. Footage from his tank’s battleroms clearly showed where Kamir’s three bridges had been destroyed, their rubble choking the Yorel river.
Lana sighed. This was going to be a considerable delay. But at least nobody was hurt.
-
Guest chapter by Zogster
Playing with Fire
Jakub couldn’t recall when he’d last been to Ur’s machine shop. It was a miracle of miniaturization, with a comprehensive array of equipment tucked away in a tiny corner of the ‘Mech bay. What’s more, it could be easily compacted away for when the dropship was under microgravity, everything packed up to the point that it was almost unnoticeable.
But for now, it was busy. Repairs were underway after the battle for Tirana, and numerous ‘Mechs, Tanks and Battle Armours needed servicing. Faraji, the Star’s chief technician was leaning over one of the instruments. The only downside of the machine shop’s effiecient construction was that it always seemed too small for their towering mechanic. Still, he ground away at the vital parts needed to keep the unit running.
Faraji straigtened up for a moment, wiping his brow. A brief glance aside brought Jakub to his attention. He snapped off a salute to the young officer, which Jakub immediately returned. “Need an update?” he asked.
“No, nothing like that,” Jaub replied. He smiled nervously, trying to compose his words. “Rather, I’ve got an odd request.”
“A special order?” Faraji asked, his curiosity piqued. “We’ve got all our orders in, so if you need anything for the Princess, it’ll be in queue.”
Jakub shook his head. “It’s not for my BattleMech. It’s for a friend.”
“Something I can make for you?” Faraji asked.
Jakub pondered for a second, then said “I think it’s something I should make myself.”
—
“Do you know what I hate about this planet?” Rickie David asked nobody in particular. Nestled in the cockpit of Flammenwhurfer, his custom Hunchback, he could see little more than the lush purple foliage that surrounded them.
No answer was forthcoming. Truth be told, his Miscellaneous Detachment was far from the deepest of thinkers. But they were all reliable MechWarriors, and more importantly they were not too discerning about the kind of mission they took on.
“It’s the bloody colour,” Rickie answered himself. The Hunchback swatted at a tree ahead of it, splintering the trunk and sending its top half scattering into the forest. He gave a satisfied grunt and pushed on ahead.
“It’s dry,” came Karloff’s voice from the Calliope behind him. “Lights easier.”
Inwardly, Rickie braced himself. Karloff was perhaps the exception to his lance’s reliability, due to his inordinate love of setting things alight. And he was just as likely to remain silent as he was to launch into one of his oddly poetic recitations on the nature of fire.
Fortunately, he seemed to settle on the former. After a moment’s silence, Rickie let out a sigh of relief. He needed to focus, and Karloff was a distraction he didn’t need.
Soon enough the forest thinned out and gave way to the outskirts of Tirana. Towering blocky industrial plants spread out around them, making for excellent cover as they entered the city. The region was quiet, industry being shut down after years of neglect and isolation. Rickie lead his lance through the twisting maze of passages under the shadow of the industrial wasteland, masking their approach.
Already, their objective loomed large in the distance. Beyond the blocky structures that engulfed them, the conical forms of the enemy mercenaries’ dropships towered above the city. Violetta’s little pup may have gone silent, but before that he had reported their foes had moved into Tirana. And while the dropships were parked in the city’s massive drop port, the usual civilian camps had sprung up around them.
Technicians. Workers. Families and friends. The soft underbelly of any mercenary unit, usually dragged along from planet to planet but kept safely away from the conflict. It was an unspoken rule that they were left alone, and any student of mercenary history could point to the disastrous consequences of breaking this rule.
Rickie knew his history. He also knew leverage when he saw it.
“We’re almost there. Remember, we get into position, weapons armed, but we don’t open fire unless I say so.” Rickie thought a moment and added “That means you, Karloff.”
Ay reply the Calliope’s pilot could make was cut off by a sudden shout. Daria called out from her Firestarter’s cockpit “I’ve got interference on my probe. It’s ECM.”
“Where?” Rickie replied. His Hunchback cast about, scanning the terrain around him. Just as the industrial blocks hid his lance, they could easily conceal any number of attackers.
Panic clear in her voice, Daria called out “It’s on top of us!”
—
Faraji looked down at the tangled mess that Jakub was standing over. He’d heard the story of how the Iron Knights’ scout had brought in an enemy scout, disabling his vehicle with a single well-placed shot. Even if the motor was replaced, the ATV would never run again. It had tumbled down a hill, smashing itself on the rocks and beating its body well out of shape.
“So why do you want to use this? It’s junk,” Faraji said.
“It’s, uh…”” Jakub paused, chewing on his words. He was still working through a lot of new ideas, things he’d learned recently from Iulia Dragan. But this was one of his own. It was hard to explain, especially with the skepticism he expected to face. Yet he had to try.
“This is something that was forced onto him,”’ Jakub said, looking down at the mangled wreckage of the ATV. “Something from the worst part of his life. But I feel if I can make something… Well, good from it, then I can turn that fortune around.” He looked up at Faraji, his eager expression meeting the technician’s gaze.
Faraji didn’t know what to make of it. MechWarriors tended to be a superstitious lot, and mercenaries doubly so. He’d seen his share of different types come and go, and their little ways and rituals seemed harmless enough. But this?
He studied Jakub for a moment. He’d know the youth for most of his life, and had never found him other than decent, straightforward and honest. And now there was nothing but an earnest desire to help on his face, as weird as it may seem.
“Alright,” Faraji said eventually. “What are you making?”
—
“We’ve been made!” came the call from Rowan’s Firestarter.
Jakub responded by kicking his jump jets into action. “All units, spring the trap!” He called out. It was telling that his lance moved as one, engaging their jets when he did without waiting for the command. The four BattleMechs of Comet Recon soared into the air, arcing over the cluttered industrial blocks that had shielded them and rained fire down on the enemy lance.
The Firefly’s froglike form squatted atop a tower, its lasers burning into the back of the Koshi. Darsh grinned in his cockpit as he saw heat blossom in the enemy ‘Mech’s reactor. The Koshi spun and fired, short-range missiles tracking their way up the tower as it raised its arms. They impacted across the structure, causing the tower to collapse under the assault. But the Firefly was already airborne, leaping as much as gliding to a new perch.
Wen’s Nightsky came in from above, tracing fire down on the Hunchback. Solid beams and burning darts of light seared across the Hunchback’s body. Wen raised the Nightsky’s hatchet and brought it down in a massive swing as he landed. The Hunchback barely evaded, swaying back from the blow and coming back around with one of its own, driving a blocky fist into the Nightsky’s side.
“I’ve scrapped with better than you!” the Hunchback’s pilot yelled out over his speakers. The Nightsky leapt into the air, but he followed, engaging his own jump jets. They exchanged fire as they climbed, laser pulses digging into the Hunchback’s chest even as a pair of plasma cannons belched fire. White-hot plasma cut into the Nightsky’s body like a scalpel. Wen lost control and his ‘Mech went crashing into the upper floor of a former factory, disappearing under the rubble.
“Amateur,” The pilot spat and turned to look for more prey.
“Wen! Report!” Jakub yelled from Princess’ cockpit as he twisted above the battlefield. His autocannon and missiles peppered impacts across the Calliope’s body, staggering the ‘Mech and drawing its attention.
“I’m… okay,” they replied with a pained grunt that suggested anything but.
Momentarily relieved, Jakub returned his attention to the battle just in time to see the Calliope return fire. Princess twisted in mid-air, letting the searing lance of plasma slip past it. A swarm of missiles burst around him, coating the Shadow Hawk in burning hot gel. Jakub grimaced as the cockpit flushed with heat, and warnings lit up across his board. He brought his ‘Mech down to the ground, in clear sight of the Calliope. Even as it turned to track him, Jakub thumbed the fire selector and sent a solid stream of shells from his autocannon crashing into the enemy ‘Mech’s kneecap. It was enough to throw off the Calliope’s aim, the ‘Mech spraying more inferno missiles downrange but fortunately not near him. Jakub stepped aside behind the cover of a cargo elevator to let his ‘Mech cool off.
The Firefly arced above him, leaping from rooftop to rooftop with the Koshi hot on its tail, spraying missiles wildly from its arms. They impacted across the uneven industrial rooftops, weakening the structure under the Firefly’s feet. Darsh nimbly leapt ahead, soaring the Firefly to its next perch. As he jumped, he twisted his ‘Mech around and fired. Lasers and missiles tore into the rooftop he had just left, even as the Koshi came to land on it. The rooftop crumbled beneath its feet. The Koshi’s plot tried to fire its jets to escape, but it was too late. Darsh watched as the enemy’s BattleMech plunged into the building which rapidly collapsed around it.
Jakub eyed his heat gauge. The inferno gel had burned itself out and his BattleMech’s heat sinks had kicked in, bringing things back under control. He could feel the change in the cockpit already. A quick check on his battle map showed that the Calliope was otherwise engaged, and he was free to move. “Comet Recon, check in. What’s your status?”
“I could do with a hand,” Rowan reported. Her Firestarter fed his ‘Mech a position for the enemy’s Firestarter, moving in amongst a field of long-empty oil tanks. Jakub spotted Rowan’s location amongst the tanks and he smiled. “On my way, Recon Three.”
He turned and accelerated the Shadow Hawk in their direction. His screens flickered briefly as he entered the familiar field of Rowan’s ECM before his ‘Mech was correctly excluded from its effects. Rowan’s active probe kept him updated on the enemy’s position, while her ECM blanked out their own.
Closing in, Jakub kept an eye on the enemy Firestarter’s movements. Just as it stepped into a path between the oil tanks, Jakub accelerated Princess to meet it. He snapped off his weapons, peppering the Firestarter’s flank with missiles and autocannon shells. The Firestarter rocked under the impact and twisted to face him. Its lasers seared bright blue furrows into the Shadow Hawk’s arm, while the mech’s flamers fell just short of reaching him.
“Now!” Jakub snapped out. Rowan’s own Firestarter popped out from cover behind the enemy. Brilliant darts of energy leapt from her ‘Mech into the enemy’s back. Reacting on instinct, the enemy pilot pulled their Firestarter around to face Rowan’s, raking laser fire across the oil tanks before bringing them to bare on her opposite number. Jakub took the opportunity to send a solid stream of shells into her back, even as Rowan retreated from her fire.
“Forget this,” The enemy pilot said out loud, her comment somehow coming over an open channel. She kicked the Firestarter’s jump jets into gear, shooting straight out of the trap into another one. Darsh’s Firefly opened fire from its perch as soon as she cleared the oil tanks, tracing laser fire straight down her ‘Mech’s torso. She returned fire even as she struggled to keep stable mid-air, managing to tag him with one of the large lasers before he launched from his perch.
A pair of searing white beams cut up from the ground, cutting clean through the Firefly’s body as if it wasn’t there. Jakub watched in horror as Darsh’s telemetry vanished from his screens. The squat ‘Mech rolled forwards as it fell, coming crashing down to street level on its back.
“Two down,” The Hunchback pilot announced as his ‘mech strode past the Firefly’s downed form. It leaned forward and fired, plasma cannons cutting into the oil tank right by Jakub’s cockpit. “I don’t know why I brought the rest of you bludgers,” he growled as the Calliope and Firestarter formed up on his flanks. “I can do this all myself.”
Jakub didn’t wait for them to join the fire. He pushed Princess’ throttle, surging it into cover behind a solid brick tower. Missile and laser fire impacted into the building, while some caught his Battlemech’s trailing arm. Warning lights flicked on across his board, but instead he focused on his map. Seeing where his lancemates were, he smiled.
He surged out of cover, bringing his weapons to bear on the Firestarter. Even as the enemy ‘Mech fired, he leapt away. One laser traced up and bit into his leg, but the other went wild. Instead, focused as she was on Jakub, Daria didn’t see Rowan’s own Firestarter emerge behind her. An array of laser, machinegun and flamer fire drilled into the BattleMech’s already weakened rear from point-blank range. The enemy Firestarter spun drunkenly, trying to draw a bead on Rowan’s ‘Mech before it simply collapsed backwards against a building.
A stream of laser fire cut through the gloom behind the remaining ‘Mechs, tracing across the Hunchback’s arms and legs. The battered form of Wen’s Nightsky jetted down from one of the industrial stacks, coming to a land on the street. “Deal with it!” The Hunchback pilot spat at the Calliope as he tracked the fleeing Firestarter, sending searing plasma streams after it.
The Callipe’s MechWarrior spun on the spot. His MML fired straight down the street, spreading inferno gel all across the Nightsky’s body. It momentarily vanished in the firestorm before emerging, covered head to toe in the burning gel. Karloff stood transfixed for a moment as the Nightsky advanced, watching the flames dance across the ‘Mech’s body as it strode towards him.
Then it accelerated. The Nightsky’s myomers kicked into high gear, giving it a surge of power. It dashed down the street, faster than ever before, drawing back its hatchet arm. Only too late did the Calliope’s MechWarrior react, enthralled as he was by the sight. He tried to turn away, but it was too late.
Wen swung. The axe, still coated in burning gel, bit hard into the Calliope’s flank. It cleaved through armour, coming to a halt just beneath the BattleMech’s missile launcher. The massive force of the impact tipped the Calliope over even as the burning axe ignited the inferno missiles stored in its hull. The Calliope vanished in a titanic fireball, vapourised from the inside out.
-
----
Rickie twisted his Hunchback’s body away from the blinding fireball. He cursed out loud, seeing the last of his lance go up in flames. To his side, the enemy’s Firestarter came to a land. It opened fire, licking his ‘Mech with lasers and flamers. Rickie gritted his teeth as heat flooded the cockpit, only intensified by his own return fire. A blazing spear of plasma cut into the Firestarter’s leg. He saw it stagger and sway, barely managing to remain upright despite the leg locking in place. More laser fire cut into his side, tracing up the torso and searing into the Hunchback’s arm. It cut off above the elbow, dropping the useless limb to the ground. He saw the Nightsky advancing slowly, its body blackened from the inferno and its laser emitters still glowing.
“I don’t care! I’ll bring you all down!” he hollered. He locked onto the Shadow Hawk even as it turned to face him. His plasma cannons spat fire, even as its own autocannon barked out, smashing into the Hunchback’s weakened shoulder. The delicate cannons were ripped apart, shells detonating within its structure and tearing open the Hunchback’s distinctive weapon housing. A thick gout of black smoke poured out and the Hunchback staggered, off-balance, before crashing down to the ground.
“It’s over, Rickie,” the Shadow Hawk’s pilot said over his speakers. “You have to surrender.”
Suspended in his command couch’s restraining straps, Rickie David spat and cursed. He’d been bested, lost his men and his beloved Flammenwhurfer was severely damaged. Three enemy ‘Mechs were poised over him, ready to cut him down if he made the wrong move. No, as much as it galled him, there was only one option.
“I give,” he said. The Hunchback seemed to slump in place, as if the ‘Mech itself knew it was defeated. The enemy commander’s orders washed over him unheard, as one small matter nagged at him.
“Now how’d you know my name?”
—
“Yasir!” Jakub called out as he strode across the camp outside their dropships. The young man looked up to see the mercenary pilot approaching and snapped to his feet. He was amazed just how forgiving and even accommodating his captors had been. He’d essentially been released, and given free reign of their unit And in exchange…
“How did it go?” Yasir asked nervously as Jakub stepped up to him.
“Your intel was spot on,” Jakub replied. “Numbers, composition, even their likely approach. We were able to intercept and eliminate them before they got here.”
Yasir gave a sigh of relief. He felt nothing for having betrayed his unit, the people who had abducted him and pressed him into service. If anything, he was grateful that the Miscellaneous Detachment had likely met its end. They would not hurt anyone anymore.
“There’s something else,” Jakub said. He fished around in the pouches of his pilot suit, before he drew out a small bare metal badge. It was teardrop shaped, with two chevrons and a star engraved in it. The Star of Sumer’s unit insignia.
He handed it to Yasir who turned it over in his hands. “Wait, is this…” he trailed off, trying to understand the implications.
“It’s nothing official,” Jakub said. He paused, trying to figure out just how to explain it. It didn’t feel right to call it magic or a charm, especially since it was something he’d made up himself. Instead he said “It’s for luck. To remember us when you get home.”
Out of nowhere, Yasir lunged forward. Before Jakub could react, the youth had wrapped his arms around him and buried his head in the pilot’s shoulder. “Thank you! Thank you…” Was all he could hear. Coming out of his momentary stupor, Jakub gently returned the embrace and patted Yasir on the back. Now, more than ever before, he felt like he was doing good.
-
Guest chapter by KayEmm
Greene Room
Outside Tirana
Alwaid
Esteros
In many ways, Greene was glad to be in the field at the controls of his Chameleon. Out here in the field it was just him and his lance and nothing else, which was a position that he was glad to be in. Here he didn’t have to play politics within the unit or, for that matter, deal with their supposed allies.
The situation within the combined Screaming Demons/Red Reapers camp was one that he found distinctly uncomfortable. There was no way around it; he simply didn’t like the Red Reapers at all, not as a unit or as individuals. He saw them as opportunistic thugs, ones who were more like pirates who had given themselves a veneerer of legitimacy than anything else. Some of them even seemed to be revelling in that point.
A good example was the lance that he was supposed to be working with. Rickie’s ‘independent operations’ unit were supposed to be a dedicated raiding lance that could operate behind enemy lines. What he actually had seen of them was a bunch of bandits who had been given carte blanche to do whatever they wanted by their commander. They were the sorts who would engage in wanton attacks on civilians and rampant looting. The sort of mercenaries that sullied the reputation of everyone else.
On the upside, Major Guise had been good to him as a reward for his efforts. The salvage they’d taken from Mandragov’s forces had allowed the Demons to make good some of the losses they had suffered earlier on. Right now, his own Recon Lance was back to being an actual Recon Lance, and no longer was dragging around the deadweight of a Violator that they’d been lumbered with. And Greene would much rather have had his lance at his back than the mixture of leftovers that he’d been commanding for the last couple of months. And he knew that no matter what, Major Guise would have his back and not leave him in the lurch, unlike their so-called allies.
His lance was moving through the hills around Tirana, aiming to learn more about the new threat that Demios had steered them towards. Here it was just the four of them, no unit politics, no dubious allies or anything else. Right now they were moving through the fringes of the purple woodlands on the city’s north-east side, the skyline of central district visible in the distance. Even this far off, he could see signs of the recent fighting that made it clear that that there had been recent fighting within the city.
That had been one of his objectives; find out the full strength of the forces that had taken Tirana and to see how badly damaged they were. He remembered their first engagement months ago, and the forces that they had been up against back then. He wasn’t sure if that unit would have been enough to defeat Mandragov’s forces given what the Demons and Reapers had faced so far, which was concerning to say the least.
“Contact!” Leminoke called out over the communications network. He had lost his original ‘Mech at Red hills, and replaced it with a Stiletto was that had been salvaged from Mandragov’s forces. As an advantage, it now had the best electronics of all the lance. “Looks like an enemy lance headed in our direction.”
“It’s what we’re here for,” he replied. “Let’s try to get a better look at it.”
He opened the Chameleon’s throttle, his ‘Mech charging forwards through the undergrowth, scattering purple foliage as he went. The rest of his lance joined in formation around him, pushing forwards. A quartet of red icons appeared in his display, indicating the enemy units. However, as he closed, the symbols on the screen began to shift and distort. “Enemy jamming!” He called out. “Keep your eyes open!”
----
“Okay team, you know the plan,” Leon Mackinaw spoke over his command channel as his lance advanced towards the enemy. “Keep them out of the city and stop them from getting away.” The first part was to simply reduce the amount of information the enemy could gather and report back on about their forces. The second objective, however, was twofold. If the enemy got into Tirana, it would make them a lot harder to track down and eliminate. At the same time, he had no desire to inflict any more damage on the already war-torn city.
Leon opened fire with his Large Laser at the edge of its range, more snapping off a shot than aiming to do any damage. If nothing else, it would give them something to think about and possibly throw off their own plan. Beside him, Chai's Wolfhound let fly with a blast from its Extended-Range PPC, adding its own searing blue beam to the mix. “Looks like we've got a bunch of light ‘Mechs and maybe a medium,” he added as the icons continued to update on his display.
Leon knew that his lance was the lightest of the Iron Knights' BattleMech company and was the least capable in a fight. However, this battle was not going to be about firepower as much as it was mobility, with outmanoeuvring his enemy being the key to victory. “Try to keep them penned in,” he continued as enemy missile fire scattered around him. “Don't let them use their own speed.” A Large Laser shot scored some armor off the Phoenix Hawk's side without penetrating.
He fired his jump jets, twisting the Phoenix Hawk in the air to keep it trained on the enemy force. At the centre of their formation was a Chameleon, a ‘Mech that was usually used as a trainer and was a close match for the abilities of his own. “That's probably their commander. I'm gonna try and keep him pinned down.”
Leon landed in a run, firing his PPC as he went. The weapon flared at the muzzle before unleashing a bold of brilliant blue energies that slammed into the Chameleon’s side, peeling through armour. The enemy ‘Mech did its best to return fire, another large laser blast flying just past the Phoenix Hawk. “Come on, get closer. I dare you,” Leon commented as he continued to close down the distance between the pair of them, adding his medium lasers to the fray.
The rest of his lance were also closing in, with Sterling and Wash's BattleMechs bounding over the landscape on pillars of fusion fire. The pair fired as they moved but had little chance of hitting; their shots were more aimed to distract than damage. Lacking jump jets of its own, Chai's Wolfhound was at the back of the pack, adding its own fire in support as she continued to push forwards.
For their part, the enemy force was doing their best to react to his aggressive approach, something they probably were not expecting from another scout lance. Aside from the Chameleon, a Stiletto and Firestarter were also charging forwards, the former spraying long-range missiles at whatever it could find. A Wasp (a different model to Bob's, Leon noted) hung back, trying to act more as a light sniper than anything else. “Wasp's yours, Dagger two,” he called out. “I've got their lead.”
He pushed forwards towards the Chameleon at ninety kilometres per hour, quickly eating up the distance between the two ‘Mechs. As soon as he could, he unleashed another volley of weapons fire, acutely aware of the heat washing into the cockpit as he did. His PPC smashed into the side of the enemy ‘Mech, while lasers further scored into its armor; not penetrating, but at the same time clearly worrying it. The Chameleon replied in kind, its Large Laser going wide as it tried to keep him in his sights.
Behind him, Bogerman and Wash were taking advantage of their mobility to get around the Firestarter and Stiletto, harassing the enemy ‘Mechs with laser fire. While they weren’t doing much actual damage, they were keeping the enemy MechWarriors occupied and unable to focus on a single target. Chai was following up with her own long-range firepower, but her lack of jump jet was slowing her advance compared to the rest of the lance.
Another burst from his own jets allowed Leon to pivot around the Chameleon, keeping it separated from the rest of its lance. As soon as he was down he broke into a run, opening up again on the enemy ‘Mech. Once again, his PPC flared brightly before smashing into the enemy machine, flaying more armor from its flank. The enemy MechWarrior responded with their own lasers, the large further drilling into the side of the Phoenix Hawk's chest.
Before Leon could respond, a PPC shot hit the Hawk, further shaking the ‘Mech. A smattering of missiles went wide of him, making their intended target clear. Glancing to his side, Leon could see the Wasp pivoting around, keeping its weapons tracked on him. Didn't see that coming, he scolded himself as he reconsidered his options.
That problem was solved for him as Chai's PPC smashed into the Wasp's torso, tearing apart the missile launcher built into it and leaving its arm bent awkwardly to one side. That seemed to have made the MechWarrior inside reconsider their options as they fired their jump jets, vaulting backwards into the trees in an effort to disengage.
“Nice shooting Dagger Two,” Leon commented. “Now let's see about the rest.”
-----
Green was gritting his teeth as he continued to run and fire his Chameleon's weapons, trying to figure a way out of the current situation. The enemy lance was doing a good job of keeping his hemmed in and locked down, especially now that Mizrabekyan had decided to make a break for it rather thank keep fighting in a badly-damaged BattleMech. It didn’t help that the enemy ECM was doing a good job of cluttering his display with noise, making it hard for him to get an accurate read on the situation.
He fired his lasers again, managing to score some more armor off the Phoenix Hawk that he'd been duelling with. In response, it struck back with its PPC, blasting into his side. Greene could see the damage display turn a very angry red as the armor on his flank all but vanished under the assault. Leminoke and van Vilet weren't doing too much better, the enemy Wasp and Spider having done a good job of keeping them pinned down while dancing around their weapons. It was all van Vilet could do to simply flail away with his flamers at the edge of their useful range and hope he hit something.
To make matters worse, a PPC shot struck the Stiletto's side, the enemy Wolfhound having decided to join in the fray as it closed in on the pair of them. However, that also gave him an idea, one that could yet get them out of this mess. “All units, target Bravo Wolfhound,” he called out over the command channel as he pivoted his own ‘Mech, opening up on the enemy with his lasers. Shots scored into its armor, clearly grabbing the MechWarrior's attention.
A PPC hit from the Phoenix Hawk tore into the armor on his leg, but Greene ignored it for the moment. Instead he fired his own jets, leaping away from the medium enemy ‘Mech. “Form up on me and focus fire,” he ordered, with the other two members of his lance doing their best to comply. Several missiles pockmarked the Wolfhound's armor, followed by a single laser from the Firestarter, both of which at least managed to stagger their target.
He fired again, this time having an appreciable effect. His large laser hit the Wolfhound’s leg, causing the light ‘Mech to stagger and then stumble. Several more shots from his lancemates had the desired effect, knocking the enemy ‘Mech to the ground and creating a hole, if only temporary, in the enemy formation. It wasn't much, but he'd take it. “All units, fall back through arid Echo-Six. Engage targets of opportunity but maintain formation.” Getting his men back alive with the information he'd gathered took priority over everything else.
He jumped backwards towards the treeline, with van Vielet's Firestarter joining him. Lacking jump jets of its own, Leminoke's Stiletto was left to run after them, the birdlike ‘Mech making up the distance with its impressive speed. “Recon Two; as soon as we're inside the treeline start burning us a break. The smoke will give us cover and give them something to focus on.”
“Roger that,” van Vilet confirmed, probably eager to actually contribute to the battle.
Several shots flew at his lance as they pulled back, most of them flying past them or hitting with little damage. But just as they came down at the treeline, a shot from the Phoenix Hawk's PPC smashed into the back of Leminoke's Stiletto as it was running. The shot blew through the armor, causing the ‘Mech to tip forwards, its front end ploughing into the ground, kicking up dirt and purple undergrowth as it went.
“Status?” Greene called out.
“I think my gyro's blown,” Leminoke replied, fear obvious in his voice. “I can't get it to stand or even move.”
“Damn it,” Green spat as he considered his options. Only he and Mizrabekyan had hands, and the latter had already taken off. “Sit tight and-"
His order was cut off as a flight of missiles peppered the Chameleon’s chest. Glancing up, Greene could see a pair of Calvary VTOLs heading towards his location; the enemy pilots having likely used the combination of the ECM and terrain to mask their approach.
“What are we going to do, boss?” van Vilet asked.
Green quickly glanced over the situation. “Fall back,” he reluctantly ordered.
-----
“I'm sorry I let them get away, Major,” Leon admitted as he stood in the Iron Knights field headquarters.
“Why?” Kailtyn Farris replied, her tome more curious than anything else.
“Because now they know where we are,” he admitted. “And I could have done more to stop their forces.”
She shook her head. “What's important is that you kept them out of the city and stopped them from doing any damage to our strength or the people,” she explained. “Yes, they are aware of our location, but I suspect they knew that already. This was likely more of a probe than anything else.”
“I guess so,” he admitted.
“And you bought back your entire lance alive with only light damage,” she continued, an encouraging smile on her face. “While they lost one with nothing to gain from it. We salvaged a mostly intact ‘Mech and we now have a prisoner.”
Leon paused. “You're going to set Iulia on him.”
She shook her head and held up a finger. “I'm going to get her to ask him some questions, that's all.”
“Sure,” Leon nodded, figuring it was best if he didn't think about it too much. “And thanks.”
“For what?” She asked, a curious tone in her voice.
“For having realistic expectations of me and my lance, I guess,” he shrugged. “And not, I don't know, micromanaging us at every level.”
Kaitlyn smiled and nodded. “You're good at what you do,” she explained. “And I'm not going to tell you how to do your job.”
Leon chuckled. “Now that's a pleasant change from my past experiences.”
-
LIC Surveillance Log 553-29F
Baroness Giana Sigonella: Thank you for accepting my invitation to this meeting. While I was hoping that it would be face to face, this will have to do.
Merchant Deneel: And thank you for being willing to listen to us, Baroness Sigonella.
Sigonella: So I will get to the point, Merchant Deneel. What is your Clan's interest in Esteros? If you'll forgive my blunt approach, but so far you have not been acting in a Clan-like manner.
Deneel: Clan Jade Falcon is dead, Baroness. I am here on the behalf of the Alynia Mercantile League.
Sigonella: I see.
Deneel: Do not mistake us for the fallen Clan. We are not here to conquer, merely to secure what we want. And unlike Warriors, we are open to negotiations.
Sigonella; And I presume then that what you want is the mines on Alwaid?
Deneel: That would be correct. They possess mineral resources that we need for our own purposes.
Sigonella: And that's why you sent mercenaries to secure it.
Deneel: Correct.
Sigonella: Hm. And your... League has no designs on the rest of the world?
Deneel: We do not. The primary value of Esteros to us lies in this one facility.
Sigonella: I see. Now I will be honest here, Merchant Deneel. As you are doubtless aware through your mercenaries, the Esteros Assembly is set on ‘reclaiming' the entire world from the mess the Falcons left us with. And to many in the assembly, having an enclave of a foreign power sitting on one of our continents will not sit well.
Deneel: Then what are you suggesting? Further military action would be wasteful to both of us.
Sigonella: I agree entirely. That is why I am proposing that the AML leases the mine from the Esteros Assembly.
Deneel: Interesting. You guarantee us autonomy to run the mine as we see fit and extract and export the minerals we want, and we would be more than willing to provide financial compensation in return. It is a lot less... complicated than the other options.
Sigonella: With options for renewal or even expansion as you needed, of course.
Deneel: Of course. Countess Sigonella, I feel that we can come to some form of mutually beneficial agreement here.
Sigonella: Naturally. I just want to make sure we both get what we want.
-
Guest Chapter by Zogster and KayEmm
Reap the Whirlwind
Dropship Red Son
Outside Tirana
Alwaid, Esteros
It was cold, dark and raining. She was hiding in a hollow, behind a rock, gripping a pistol for dear life. She was cold, tired and afraid, knowing full well what was at stake. Around her, she could hear voices shouting, calling out to each other in a language that she didn’t understand. However, she also knew what they were saying. They were hunting for her.
Kaitlyn Farris blinked awake, taking in her surroundings. She was in her bunkroom on board the Red Son, which was still in its ‘night’ cycle. A glance at her chrono told her that it was still the small hours of the morning, but yet she was wide awake. Sighing to herself, Kait quietly climbed out of her bunk as not to wake anyone else in the room, heading out to the small bathroom located between the three bunkrooms.
Not even bothering to turn on the light, she activated the tap and splashed some water on her face. Then she took a handful to drink just to clear her mind. The water was stale, a flavor she had become accustomed to from the ship’s decrepit systems. Still, it was enough.
She turned around, only to see Iulia standing in the hallway behind her. She took a deep breath before she got started, knowing exactly where the conversation was going anyway. “I dreamed about the mountain again.”
“It is expected,” Iulia simply replied. “It was an important moment, one where the world turned. It was what made you who you are today.”
“I know.” She shook her head. “ I just…” she sighed. “Given that we’re now engaged with another new opponent, it feels somewhat ominous.”
“It could be,” Iulia nodded. “But think of it this way. It is also a moment when you faced a great threat and were able to triumph. You came out stronger for all you had been through.”
“And you think that applies here?”
Iulia nodded. “Yes.”
“Right.” Kaitlyn nodded. “So what do you suggest?”
There was a pause. “Use that moment,” Iulia suggested. “Do not dwell on the hardships, but what you gained from it. Yes, it was a hardship, but think of all that you gained from it.” She nodded. “And one other thing.”
“What?”
“Get some sleep,” Iulia finished.
Kaitlyn chuckled a little. “Thank you for that.”
“Besides, we have a lead,” Iulia continued. “We know who these opponents are and we have faced them before.”
“That does help,” she admitted. “What do you think you can make of it?”
“A lot,” she finished confidently. “But that will come later.”
—--
“No,” Jakub said firmly.
“You need me out there,” Wen replied. They sat up in the med bay bed, ready to stand. Jakub gently put a hand on their arm, his eyes flicking from the MechWarrior’s face to the bandage around their head.
“What I need is for you to get better,” Jakub replied. “Besides, Axe Gang is still being refitted after the last battle. We don’t have anything for you to pilot.”
A flood of emotions crossed Wen’s face, their mouth scrunching up. After a long moment, they replied “Fine. It’s just without Darsh and I…”
They trailed off, seeing Jakub wince at the mention of their lost pilot. It can’t have been easy, Wen thought, realising that Darsh was the first MechWarrior to die under Jakub’s command.
“No, we talked about it,” Jakub said, his voice stuttering almost imperceptibly. “Rowan and I are being seconded to Mackinaw’s recon lance for the time being.”
Wen nodded their understanding. The lanky MechWarrior could only imagine it would be a relief for Jakub to step back after the harrowing fight with the Red Reaper’s Miscellaneous Detachment. “I’m still gonna worry about you, you know,” they added eventually.
“Hey, I’m your commanding officer,” Jakub replied. “It’s my job to worry about you.”
“You’re pulling rank on me here?” Wen said, the mock offense obvious in their tone.
“Yeah, and I’m ordering you to get some rest,” came Jakub’s final command.
Wen gave an expansive shrug. “Well, if you put it like that…” They leaned back into the bed, wincing a little as their head hit the pillow.
The two said their goodbyes and Jakub turned to leave. Katarina was waiting outside the med bay, although he couldn’t tell just how long she had been there.
The two assessed each other for a moment. Katarina wore a look of concern that Jakub knew all too well, whereas Jakub realised that his own worries must have been painted all over his face.
“Does it get easier?” Jakub asked out of the blue.
“Hey, you did better than I usually do trying to keep Lana in bed,” Katarina replied. A nervous smile crossed Jakub’s face, which Katarina matched. She threw an arm around his shoulders and guided him towards the ‘Mech Bay. “The hard part’s over. Now all you’ve got to do is fight the enemy in your giant robot.”
“Oh yeah, easy,” Jakub replied, his smile becoming genuine. With that, the pair headed out.
—
Dropship Inferno
Alwaid, Esteros
As he looked over the map of the region, Lewis Guise couldn’t help but feel a little bit pleased with himself. The map was displaying the known locations of the identified enemy forces, along with their dispositions. What made this important to him was that this information had been bought back by his men through his efforts.
It had been hard not to be openly pleased when he’d heard the full report of what had happened. Greene’s recon lance had made contact with the enemy and skirmished with an opposing BattleMech lance before withdrawing. While they had lost a single ‘Mech (albeit one that they had salvaged from Madragov’s forces) they had gathered considerable information while also damaging one of the enemy ‘Mechs.
Conversely, the Red Reapers had sent out their special operations lance, a group that Major Vujvic seemed to be considerably invested in. That force had failed to return at all, with all four of its ‘Mechs either lost or, even worse, salvaged by the enemy. Furthermore, the members of that lance would have been able to provide a wealth of information to the enemy while costing Vujvic one of her major supporters.
In short, he had come out of it all looking good while she had taken a few major blows. And after she’d rejected him at their victory celebration, he couldn’t help but feel that she’d been put in her place by this latest development. Whatever was going to happen next, he would be the one calling the shots.
The best part of it was that Demios was also aware of how everything had panned out and had made it clear that he was a lot happier with how the Screaming Demons had fared. The agent had come to them and made it clear that the next step would be the elimination of the mercenary forces that were presently occupying Tirana. That would in turn leave the entire Alwaid continent unstable and without any central authority, which would suit Demios’ plans.
And Lewis Guise and the Screaming Demons would be the ones to do it.
He had called the Screaming Demons command staff to a briefing to plan his next move. “Thanks to Lieutenant Greene’s efforts, we now have an open path to the enemy. Furthermore, we’ve got a good measure of their forces and have been able to verify that one of the two mercenary units present in Tirana is the same ones we faced at Red Hills.”
“The same ones that defeated us,” Markov noted. “And left us where we are now.”
Lewis shot him a glare, angry as much for the reminder of what had happened as he was for Markov throwing off his good feelings. “Different circumstances,” Lewis shot back. “They surprised us thanks to Major Russel’s tactical failings, and we knew nothing about them at the time. This time we’re on the offensive, have better intel and have better leadership.”
Markov’s only response was a small grunt. Dismissing that, he looked over the map again. “Our armour units will stretch of woods that Greene’s lance burned, which will give them a clear path through to the city. That will grab their attention while our ‘Mechs use the woods as cover for their advance, which will allow us to take them by surprise.”
He looked over his command staff, ignoring the look Captain Grana was giving him at being assigned the role of ‘distraction’. “Recon lance will take the lead and flank the enemy once they’re engaged. That will then allow our main force to move in and take them.” He smiled to himself. “At the same time, the Reapers will move in from the other side and we will have them.” He was confident that Major Vujuvic would be receptive to his plan, especially now that she was on the back foot after her recent defeat.
“With a bit of work, we’ll be in Tirana by tomorrow night.” He finished.
“Assuming everything goes to plan,” Markov noted.
“Of course it will,” he finished. And as confident as he felt, there was a lingering feeling of doubt in the back of his mind, one little thing that he couldn’t put aside. The red Marauder that had killed Major Russel.
And then he shook it off. “There’s nothing for us to worry about.”
-----
Lewis and Violetta had met half-way, at a temporary camp where their ‘Mechs were staged. He had explained the plan as he saw it, watching for her response. The other commander was carefully neutral. Her hair was already bundled up to go with her neurohelmet at hand, giving her a stern aspect. She had listened impassively to his briefing, waiting until he was done.
“You’ll be taking the lead, of course,” Violetta said.
“Of course,” Lewis agreed, his tone more than a little self-important.
“You have direct experience against this unit,” she stated simply. “You know better what we’re up against. And, well…”
Inside Violetta seethed. The thought of prostrating herself before this worm was almost too much to bear. But she bit down. She needed this to go well, and she needed Lewis to play his part. She had no illusions that he would be victorious, but at least he could do some damage.
“Your unit has had the best track record so far.” She could almost see the overstuffed peacock swelling before her.
“No, it all makes perfect sense,” he agreed, his tone condescending in its air of superiority. “And I have devised a plan that will allow us to make the most of the information that my men gathered.” His emphasis of the last part was intended to be a clear reminder of the comparative losses their units had suffered in the last skirmish. “Just follow my lead, and we have this.”
“Very well, Major.” Violetta held onto her last shreds of self control just long enough to snap a salute to her opposite number. Without giving him a chance to reply, she turned on her heel and headed to her Gunslinger.
----
Between the battle at Barandov and rounding up stragglers from Mandragov’s forces, the Screaming Demons had been able to rebuild to a full BattleMech company. Lewis Guise had done well from this arrangement, having restructured his command lance to a proper fire lance rather than the combined grab-bag he’d been left with. With two other fire ‘Mechs, his lance could stand back and control the battlefield with more focus than he’d had before.
As Greene and Markov’s lances had engaged the enemy, he’d kept his lance at the back of the formation, providing support to their advance. His Archer was in the midst of their formation, the foundation stone on which not only his lance but the entire unit depended. With the woods serving as cover, he was reasonably shielded from enemy fire. And the data coming from the other Demons gave him ample targeting information.
“Target alpha, Thunderbolt,” he called out over the command channel as he locked up the target BattleMech. A moment later, he triggered his Archer’s missile launchers, sending two flights of long-range missiles towards the enemy ‘Mech. Missiles peppered its shoulders and torso, clearly making their mark. Moments later, the other members of his lance followed through, sending a rain of missiles towards the target. That was enough to stagger the Thunderbolt, keeping it off-balance.
So far, things were going well. The Screaming Demons had been able to break through to Tirana using the route that he’d picked out. Their forces had been able to drag out the mercenaries according to his plan, allowing him to get the opening that he needed. All that they had to do now was simply eliminate them.
Glancing at his tactical display, he could see the way that the battlefield was unfolding. His forces had pushed deeply into their lines and had established a firm beachhead that would be hard to dislodge. All he needed to do was to capitalize on that initial success. “Demon Lead to all units,” he called out over the command channel. “Keep pushing and do not hold back!”
He triggered another volley of missile fire, targeting a Catapult that had been trying to position itself for its own counter-battery assault. Missiles peppered the enemy ‘Mech, forcing it to step back in to find shelter. We have this, he confidently told himself.
—--
Kaitlyn did her best to ignore the shaking of her BattleMech as a flight of missiles impacted into the body. Her armor was only lightly damaged so far, giving her little to worry about. Rather, her focus was on the battle as a whole and how it was unfolding.
They had identified the enemy unit as the Screaming Demons, the same ones they had fought months ago. The enemy had come in through the stretch of burnt forest that they'd left in their wake after the last skirmish. They'd headed up with their light armor units before committing their BattleMechs, doing their best to tie up her forces. And now they had a trio of missile-armed ‘Mechs lurking in the woods at the back of the field, laying down a rain of long-range missile fire.
All of which was going exactly how Iulia had predicted it would.
Her second had been allowed to talk to the prisoners they had taken from their previous skirmishes, using what she had learned from them to form a portrait of the leadership of the two enemy forces they were facing, with the information she'd gathered on the Screaming Demons leader being very useful. He thinks that he is a genius, she had noted. And that nobody recognizes him for it. If you make him think that he has won, then you have defeated him. She had also noted that there was a rift between the two forces. They work together, but they are separate. Two halves, not a whole.
If there was one thing that Kaitlyn had learned over the years, it was to trust the insights of her second, as they had proven to be uncannily accurate. And right now she could see how those predictions were unfolding. Her forces had been holding back, letting the Screaming Demons over-extend their own advance while their leader had been deliberately staying at the back of the field, limiting his own effectiveness. And now was the time to strike.
“Knight Lead to all units,” she ordered over the command channel. “Close the noose.”
Her Warhammer IIC pushed forwards along with the rest of the Iron Knights, advancing on the flanks of the Screaming Demons formation. As she advanced, Kaitlyn dropped her sights onto the first available target, a Goblin Infantry Tank that was cutting across her path, turning its turret towards her. She fired first, her Extended Range Particle Cannons unleashing a pair of hellish blasts that smashed into the Goblin's side.
The tank spun under the impact, leaving a trail of parts and slagged armor in its wake before stopping dead by a rock. A moment later, the top and back hatches opened as both the crew and the infantry inside bailed out of the doomed tank.
She didn't waste any further time on it, instead continuing her advance and seeking out her next target. A Demons Exhumer was in among the rocks, the BattleMech spitting missiles from its broad chest as it advanced. She wasted no time in firing off another pair of shots, the heat from her weapons fire washing into the cockpit as the PPCs again unleashed their assault. One of them went wide of the mark, but the other smashed into the Exhumer's side, staggering it a moment under the impact.
The enemy MechWarrior recovered quickly and snapped off his own fire. One of the lasers scored armor from her leg, while the missiles scattered damage across the Warhammer IIC's body. A quick glance at her display told Kait that her thick armor was holding, and that she had little to worry about for the moment. Confident, she pressed forwards, continuing her assault.
More heat hit her as she unleashed another assault on the Exhumer. Both of her PPCs struck home, smashing into the board torso and arms of the ‘Mech, causing it to falter for a moment. One of her lasers did the most, however, slicing through the exposed bones of the Exhumer's arm, sawing it in half at the elbow. Unbalanced by the assault, the enemy BattleMech's return fire went wide, spraying the area around her with missile fire.
An alarm gave Kait a moment's warning before a volley of autocannon fire struck her ‘Mech, rocking the eighty-ton machine under the impacts. Glancing at one corner of her screen, she could see the source of the attack; a dome-headed Koschei that was advancing on her flank with a surprising speed for a heavy ‘Mech. A glance at her display told her what they were trying to do by attempting to bracket her between them and the wounded Exhumer.
In response she fired her jump jets, the massive Warhammer IIC leaping backwards and around a rock formation, landing in the midst of a collection of purple scrub. That had clearly thrown her opponents off as the Koschei wheeled around to try and keep its weapons trained on her. Behind it, the one-armed Exhumer tried its best to follow her.
She and the Koschei opened fire on each other at the same time, but it was very much an uneven exchange. Her PPCs smashed into the enemy ‘Mech's arm and side, tearing huge chunks out of its armor. Her pulse lasers followed up, slicing armor off and digging into the exposed wounds. In return, she was battered by a volley of autocannon fire and an accompanying PPC strike, but they did little to penetrate her protection; even then, however she couldn't help but spare a glance at her display.
Further back, the Exhumer tied to bring its weapons to bear, but instead found itself under attack from an unexpected direction. Leon's Phoenix Hawk sprinted past the ‘Mech, unleashing a volley of PPC and laser fire into its already damaged flank. Clearly he hit something as the Exhumer staggered forwards, black smoke pouring from its rear.
Glancing at her display, Kait could see how the battle was unfolding. “Knight Lead to Knight Two,” she began over a closed channel. “We're closing the noose. You know what to do.”
—--
“Waiting is bad,” Maeve muttered to herself. She’d read it somewhere, or had it quoted at her by a million people that thought they were better commanders than her. There was truth to it at least, as if nothing else, waiting led to frustration.
Her cavalry lance waited in the wings, accompanied by the Red Reapers' strike vehicles, ready to engage. Violetta had graciously let Lewis take the lead, with the aim of drawing in the enemy’s forces. Once they were directly engaged with the Demons’ forces, the Reapers would pounce, descending on their flanks.
Only… They hadn’t. So Maeve had waited here. Waited while the enemy mercenaries had held off the Demons’ skirmishers. Waited while Lewis had let his forces get strung out. And waited while their opportunity to strike slipped away.
She could commit. Throw away the plan and reinforce the Screaming Demons. She’d have to angle around to face the enemy mercenaries head-on, or lose even more valuable time creeping around the fringes of the battlefield to come in on their flank. And who knew what state the Demons would be in by then.
Her fingers drummed on the Scourge’s console. Neither were good options. She had to hope that Lewis could turn this around and play his role. And so she waited.
-----
From his vantage point, Lewis Guise could see how the battle was unfolding, watching his tactical display with ever-increasing concern. As planned, the Screaming Demons had advanced towards the enemy and formed a salient within their lines. However, the enemy had apparently planned for that, and had instead manoeuvred around them and were now encapsulating his forces. How did they know my plan? He asked himself. It’s like they were ready for it.
“This is Demon Zero Two,” the voice of his lancemate came over the command channel. Glancing to his side, Lewis could see the salvaged Crusader standing in the purple woods next to his own Archer. “I'm at the edge of effective range for my missiles. Should we advance?”
He glanced again at his display. The battle had moved away from his command lance, substantially reducing the effectiveness of their missile support. However, they were already on the edge of the forest cover, and to get closer they would need to move out into the open where they would be vulnerable to enemy fire. “Negative, Demon Zero Two. Maintain position.”
He launched another pair of missile volleys, the warheads scattering among the enemy forces with little indication of actual hits. “Keep firing!” He ordered, with the Crusader and Cobra at his side contributing to the attacks.
“New contacts!” Came another voice over his command channel. “Incoming VTOLs!”
Looking up, Lewis could see a pair of Cavalry attack helicopters barrelling towards his position, coming in fast and low. The front ends of both craft erupted with smoke as they fired off their own missiles before peeling away. However, the weapons weren't aimed at him or his men. Rather, they exploded in mid-air, spraying gel all over the woods around him.
“Infernos!”
In an instant, the woods were ablaze, flames eagerly devouring the trees and enveloping Lewis' lance. He could feel his heat spiking as the temperature around him soared, while black smoke obscured his view of the battlefield. Without even thinking, he pushed his Archer forwards, desperate to escape the blazing heat and all that came with it.
As his forward view cleared, he took in the situation. He was now out on the rocky plains that separated the now-burning forest from the rest of the battle, leaving a fair distance between him and the rest of the battlefield. Even then, he noticed a single red marker popping up on his display as an enemy ‘Mech stepped around from behind a rocky bluff.
The red Marauder.
Wasting no time he dropped his sights onto it, but the enemy MechWarrior was faster. They lashed out with their twin particle cannons, one of which slammed straight into the Archer's cockpit.
-----
-
In the cockpit of his Koschei, Markov's priorities were rapidly shifting. He was no longer concerned with bringing down the Warhammer IIC that he was convinced was the enemy commander. Nor was he concerned with even winning the battle that he was in the middle of. Right now, his priority was to simply stay alive.
His autocannon roared as it let out another stream of shells, with Markov momentarily ignoring the overheat warnings coming from the weapon, as well as the heat wafting into the cockpit. As soon as he let up on the trigger he stepped back, twisting his torso to the left as the Warhammer's return fire came in. PPC hits smashed into his left arm and flank, all but destroying the already depleted armor and setting off even more warnings.
“Demon Lead is down!” A panicked voice came over the command channel. “Repeat, Demon Lead is down.”
Markov wasted no time at all as he pushed the throttle into full reverse. “This is Demon Two-One to all units. Pull back, repeat, pull back.”
As his BattleMech stepped backwards, a single thought made its way to Markov's mind, one that he realized he did not regret at all. Lewis Guise's death might just have been the best thing that could have happened to us.
-----
Lana let out a loud sigh as the Battlemaster’s cockpit cooled. The retreating enemy ‘Mechs were well beyond her particle cannons’ effective ranges, and she doubted her fire had done little more than annoy them. Still, it was working. The Iron Knights had broken the enemy’s advance, and her own units had at least managed to harass them on the way out.
She ordered her unit to form up and set the massive BattleMech into motion. A moment later she opened a channel to Kaitlyn Faris, commander of the Iron Knights. “Excellent work,” she began. “They moved just as you predicted.”
Kaitlyn's voice was a little weary, but still confident. “Prior experience with them, really,” she explained. “We had a good idea of what they would do after our last two engagements.”
“Although their forces seemed lighter than expected,” Lana mused. “Do you think the two units might have been operating separately?”
“I think so,” Kait agreed. “They really don't seem to be cooperating to the same degree that we are. But now that the Demons' leader is dead, that could change.”
“Well keep on their heels while you rearm. If all goes well, they’ll still be on the back foot when you catch up.” Lana smiled to herself. If all went well, she and Kaitlyn would be able to put an end to this campaign today.
—--
The Iron Knights had pulled back to their dropships to rearm for what Kaitlyn saw as being the inevitable next battle. While they had come out of the skirmish with no operational losses, many of their ‘Mechs were battered and had burned through their ammunition supplies. Her Warhammer IIC was foremost among them; being the largest ‘Mech in the Iron Knights' forces, it had drawn a lot of attention from the enemy. However, she could tell that others had seen their share of damage. Valliki’s Thunderbolt had a blackened and battered upper body, having been subject to several volleys of long-range missile fire, and others had drawn their own share of the attention.
As soon as her ‘Mech was stopped, Kait clambered out of the cockpit and headed over to their field headquarters. Leon met her along the way, looking about the same as she was feeling. “Well I don't know what happened there, but it really feels like the Demons and Reapers weren't exactly getting on.”
“Agreed,” Kait nodded. “Which worries me”
“Because they let us win?” Leon asked.
“Exactly,” she nodded. “I'm just concerned that there might be some bigger play here,” she admitted. “Like the Reapers wanted us to be overconfident or that they have more in reserve waiting for us.”
“Possibly,” Leon considered. “But can I offer you an alternative based on my own experience?"
“And what's that?”
“Sometimes seemingly incompetent leadership is just that,” he shrugged. “Just because we and the Star are getting along doesn't mean that they are. For all we know, they could hate each other's guts.”
“Which would fit with what we learned from their scout,” She nodded.
“Lady Dragan comes through again,” Leon smiled. “So that aside, how are you doing?”
“I, uh…” Kait paused and then smiled. “Tired, but okay, I guess. Give me a few and then I'll be back in it.”
Leon nodded, with the arrival of Iulia cutting off anything else he might have said. Kait's second had wrapped her head entirely in a scarf, leaving only her eyes visible, a look that only added to her intensity. “It is done,” she simply stated.
“Nice shot,” Leon nodded.
“Your read of them worked,” Kaitlyn added. She'd deployed her forces based on Iulia's assessment of the Demons’ leadership and likely tactics. “So how did you figure out what Major Guise was going to do?”
Iulia nodded in thought a moment. “I could tell from what the prisoners had said that he had made a bargain with a spirit, one that he thought would help him.”
Kaitlyn looked thoughtful for a moment as she considered her friend’s words. She had long accepted that this was how Iulia read people, possibly due to her own upbringing or possibly as a part of who she was, or even both. None the less, she had also learned to not only take those assessments at face value, but also that they could be incredibly accurate. “Like how Mandragov had bargained with death.”
“Yes,” she nodded. “But his spirit was different. This was some form of trickster.”
“What makes you say that?”
Iulia smiled knowingly. “Trickster seems to be a powerful spirit. It will give you all that you want, and make you feel powerful. In Guises' case, it made him feel like he was a genius leader, who had the respect of his men.”
“But I imagine there's a downside,” Kaitlyn noted. “There always seems to be one with these things.”
“Yes,” Iulia agreed. “Trickster will build you up, but he will also let you down at the moment that he thinks it is the most amusing.”
“Hm,” Kait considered. “And so when Guise thought he was winning and that he would come out of this battle looking like a hero, that's when his spirit turned on him.”
“Yes,” she nodded. “Trickster always has to have the last laugh, no matter what.”
Kait paused in thought. “So if I can ask, and if it's not too personal, how do you keep your own spirit from turning on you? Death demanded a price, and Trickster was always going to fail Guise because of its nature. It’s just that these things sound... dangerous?”
“They are,” she agreed. “And there is always a price. When I ask... hunter for its aid, I do such knowing that what it wants. When we do battle, I sate hunter's need for prey. Every opponent I defeat is not for me, but for it.”
“I think I understand,” Kaitlyn considered. “When you eliminate an enemy commander, you're claiming a trophy for hunter.”
“Exactly,” she nodded. “But as much as hunter aids me, I am careful not to depend on it for everything. I know the price hunter can demand.”
A thought crossed her mind. “So what can happen if you lean into it too much?”
“There is a story of a powerful hunter spirit, one the lurks in the depths of space between the stars. A creature of darkness, it gives great power to those that pledge themselves to it. But at the same time, it demands much of them, including that they constantly supply it with prey. And, eventually, it devours those that serve it.”
—--
“How bad was it?” Maeve asked from the cockpit of her Scourge. The Red Reapers had fallen back from the forest and were regrouping among the rocky outcroppings of the broken badlands beyond. She quietly surveyed the assembling units. Much like her own ‘Mech, there was a scattering of light damage from long-range fire, suffered as they had beat a hasty retreat. But at least there were no casualties amongst their own unit.
“The Demons didn’t do as much damage as I’d hoped,” Violetta replied. Her own command lance was in position for the second part of the battle, atop a wooded ridge that afforded a commanding view of the likely upcoming battlefield. Undamaged, she couldn’t help but note. “Still, there’s plenty of them left, and we can use that.”
“Lewis bought it,” Maeve added flatly. There was a pause in which she could vividly imagine a malicious smile creeping across her commander’s face. “Markov took charge and got the remaining units out.”
“Then he’s already a better leader,” Violetta replied. There was a clear note of amusement in her voice, one Maeve hadn’t heard since their strike on Chort. Although given how well the two commanders had gotten on, she wasn’t entirely surprised.
“Speak of the demon,” Maeve said. Her Scourge turned to take in the sight of Markov’s battered Koschei making its way through the badlands. A trail of other BattleMechs followed after it, the Screaming Demons apparently having accepted their temporary commander already.
“Cute,” Violetta replied with a snort of amusement. She strode her Gunslinger out of cover, standing at the edge of the ridge. From here, the barrel-chested BattleMech towered over the field, and most importantly over the remnants of the screaming demons.
She switched over to a private channel, speaking directly into the cockpit of the Koschei. “Markov. Glad to see you made it.”
“Things did not go to plan,” Markov simply replied. There was a clear anger in his voice, with some of that obviously directed at Violetta. He knew what had happened, but he didn’t want to press it. “We suffered… losses, as you can clearly tell.”
Violetta couldn’t help but smirk at the outcome. “Let’s be fair. Lewis was no great loss. But we’ve still got a battle to win here. And the Red Reapers could still use your support.”
“He was not,” Markov agreed without a moment’s hesitation. “But I managed to keep the rest of the Demons alive. And I know they will follow me.”
Violetta nodded to herself. If there was talent to be had in the Screaming Demons, Markov was it. And while she wouldn’t exactly be devastated by his loss, she was glad that if anyone had survived, it was him. She could afford to give him some leeway here.
“Then I’d be happy to bring you onboard,” she told him. “If your men agree.”
“So here’s what I want, Major,” he continued. “I want a company command in your unit. I don’t need to be second; I don’t care what you and Captain Cullen have going on. In return I’ll make sure the Demons are loyal to you and your unit. They won’t hang you out to dry.” The implication in that last part was clear.
“Very well, Captain,” Violetta replied. “Demon Company is yours to command.” She took a moment to lay out her revised battle plans, whereupon the former Screaming Demons spread out to take their positions. As Violetta returned her Gunslinger to its former position, another channel opened up in her cockpit.
“You were planning for that, weren’t you?” Maeve said sharply. “Hoping they’d take out Guise.”
Violetta frowned at the accusatory tone. “Let’s say I considered it a strong possibility.”
“Okay, so he was filth, but he was our ally,” Maeve continued, her voice still sharp.
Whatever response Violetta may have given was cut off by another report. She quickly glanced at her monitor to confirm, then returned her attention to Maeve. “The enemy’s arrived. Get to position.”
The Scourge looked up at the towering Gunslinger, looming over the battlefield. The heavy ‘Mech paused a moment, their pilots’ gazes meeting. Then it turned, and headed for the rocky field beyond.
—--
The reformed Demon Company was a pure BattleMech affair, a situation that suited Markov fine. The Screaming Demons’ remaining vehicle and infantry assets, as weak as they were, had been unloaded onto the Red Reapers’ officers to deal with. He’d been left with just the former Demon BattleMech company, now reorganized and under his command. And even though they were now down a pair of ‘Mechs due to past losses, it was still enough for him.
He was fine to let Violetta take control of the combined unit, and not just because she was the ranking officer. He knew that she had enough loyalists within the Reapers that would make any attempts by him to take control pointless and drastically shorten his lifespan. Getting this position, a company commander with a promotion to Captain was exactly what he wanted, especially given that he had subordinates that he knew he could rely on.
They still needed to win the battle, of course. However, Markov was more confident about their situation now that Guise was out of the way and Major Vujic was given to complete (and unopposed) command of the battlefield.
“Demon Recon,” he ordered, “Flank the enemy force and look for weaknesses. Demon Strike, you are with me.” Both Greene and Goric gave brief affirmatives in reply.
“Oh, and if I order you to fall back, do it,” he added. “Don’t wait for Major Vujic or one of the other Reapers to make the call.” Because I won’t forget how I got here, he mentally added.
—--
The Iron Knights had not had nearly as much time to turn around their units as Kaitlyn Farris had wanted. At best they had been able to restock some ammunition and repair some armor, but she was well aware that they were going into the battle at a lot less than full strength. They had born the brunt of the fighting during the last engagement, with Kait suspecting the Screaming Demons had targeted them directly for two reasons. The first was that their commander was more familiar with her unit after their last two engagements. The second had been to get some measure of revenge against her unit for their prior defeats.
That latter choice had cost him heavily, thanks to Iulia's intervention.
Fortunately, there had been one other upside to the situation. The Star Of Sumer were still comparatively fresh, with far less damage and less crew fatigue. However, it was also clear that the Red Reapers had also held back from the last battle, letting the Screaming Demons absorb the brunt of the damage. That last part concerned her, as to her mind it seemed wasteful to hold back completely while your allies were whittled down. “Do we have eyes on the Reapers' commander?” She asked over the command channel.
“She has eluded my sight for the moment,” Iulia replied. “But I am still seeking her.”
“Contact!” Leon called out over the channel, interrupting Kait's thoughts. “Large body of ‘Mechs and armor moving through grids Echo-Foxtrot-Eight.” There was a crackle of static form weapons fire in the background, making her wince with concern. “They're definitely aware of us.”
“Roger that. Pull back and reform with us,” she replied as her ‘Mech advanced across the rocky ground, closing the distance to the enemy force. Ahead the red icons on her display took form as hostile ‘Mechs, their forces moving to close in with hers. “All units, fire at will.”
A pair of BattleMechs among the enemy force drew her attention. One of them was a Koschei, which judging from the battered state of its armor, was the same one that she had fought in the previous battle. The other was a Hound that seemed to be a lot fresher. Zooming in her display, Kait took a quick note of the two BattleMechs. While they both wore the same sandy yellow and purple colors, they had different patterns to their camouflage. Furthermore, the two were clearly split; not just separate lances, but something else.
“Looks like two different units,” she considered as she fired, the static from the PPCs discharge crackling over the communications channel. One of the shots smashed into the Hound’s side, battering the enemy ‘Mech but not stopping it by any means. The Hound replied with its own PPCs and autocannons which did little beyond chipping away at her armor. The Warhammer all but shrugged off the attack as it continued its advance.
“Agreed,” Iulia replied as her Marauder advanced at Kait’s side, firing as it did. “The Demons and the Reapers as we expected.” The captured scout had proven to be an invaluable source of information, and had clearly been glad to turn on his former employers. She recalled Iulia's assessment of him, and how Jakub Day had helped the young man to open up by simply being nice to him.
Other members of her lance also opened up on the enemy force, a scattering of long-range missiles and other weapons flying at the enemy ‘Mechs. The enemy replied in kind, their shots less about killing and more about whittling down armor and slowing their advance. “So like we are, but I suspect that there’s a lot less trust,” she considered as she fired again, the Warhammer’s cooling system keeping the heat from the PPC discharge under control for the moment. “Especially given how reluctant the Reapers seemed to be to engage last time.”
“Something we can use,” Iulia agreed.
Kait nodded then switched over to her command channel. “Knight Lead to Shield Lead. Move through Golf-Nine and engage.” In the distance she could see the clouds of dirt and sand being kicked up by the hovercraft of Shield Company as they wheeled around the flank of the enemy advance. Scattered missile fire fell among the enemy force, helping to distract them and keep them off-balance. With how they’d planned the battle, Shield Company would then make a break to deploy Khasyanov’s Battle Armour forces to further throw off the enemy.
Returning her attention to the situation at hand, Kait quickly pivoted her Warhammer’s torso as she selected a new target. She opened fire again, aware of the heat of the weapons as they lashed out at the Koschei. One of them went wide, but the other drilled into the BattleMech’s claw-like left arm. Staggering for only a moment, it replied with a shot from its own PPC that did little more than score armor from her leg.
On her tactical display, Kaitlyn could see the battle quickly shifting as the two forces came together. The Demons were doing their best to respond to the attack on their flank, trying to keep their formation together while not exposing their backs to either force. However, she could also see that what she presumed was the Reapers were still advancing, but doing such while remaining distinctly separate from their allies. “It would seem you were right,” she noted over the command channel before the sound of her PPCs drowned out her voice. The shots smashed into an Argus, stripping armor from its side as it tried to dart past her. Immediately thinking better of it, the pilot ducked their birdlike ‘Mech back out of her line of fire.
“Aren't I always?” Iulia replied in a factual tone.
Kait gave a small chuckle in response before the rattle of autocannon fire from the Koschei cut her off. Turning her attention back to the domed ‘Mech, she pushed towards it as her weapons recharged.
—--
Katarina didn’t much care for their new battleground. There was too much cover, too many tight spaces. The remaining enemy mercenaries had ample time to set up and use the broken ground to their advantage. She advanced cautiously, leading her lance among rocky ravines.
It was the Star’s turn to take point. After the Iron Knights had held off the enemy’s first wave, her own unit was taking the lead, pushing into the opponent’s territory. Despite the terrain disadvantage, she knew she was well covered. The Iron Knights would be following on the flanks, navigating around the worst of the region to lend their support.
There was little warning that they were under attack. Alarms sounded moments before a flight of long-range missiles descended, scattering across her BattleMech. Katarina stepped back a moment before a particle cannon struck, leaving it to impact against the cliff face next to her. She swept her sensors upwards, following a pair of jet trails that lead to a Lynx and a Griffin, already repositioning to strike again.
They’re too light, was Katarina’s first thought. She advanced through the ravine, trying to draw a bead on the pair of medium ‘Mechs. “Stay on your toes, people. There’s more to this,” she said to her lance.
And she was right. Just as her lancemate’s Rifleman drew up alongside her, more fire rained down from above. A concentrated stream of lasers lashed across her Warhammer’s torso, followed by a gauss rifle slug that smashed into the BattleMech’s shoulder. Caught unawares, Katarina stumbled, managing only to twist in place so the Warhammer fell back against the ravine wall. She looked to see the Rifleman take a similar beating, with a dazzling array of laser and particle cannon fire spreading across its body. At the same time the Lynx and Griffin took advantage of their distraction, hitting home with their own long-range fire.
It took her a moment to take stock of the situation, but by then it was already getting away from her. A Verfolger and Scourge were perched on the top of the ravine, firing down on them from either side. At the same time, they kept ahead of Katarina's lance, effectively using her lead ‘Mechs as cover against the trailing pair. Even as Katarina struggled to right her Warhammer, the two heavy ‘Mechs were repositioning themselves, finding a new angle on her.
Katarina quickly barked out her orders. “Eye two, Eye three, topside. Eye four, cover them.” The Rifleman responded immediately, spraying both sides of the ravine with cluster fire from its autocannons. Behind it, her lance’s Thunderbolt engaged its jump jets, rocketing up to the top level of the ravine to join their attackers. Their final member, a Caesar, used the distraction to clamber up the cliff face, hauling its ungainly body over the rim.
The Scourge and Verfolger opened fire, smashing into the vulnerable Caesar. Their shots all hit home as it clambered to its feet, but its hardened armour seemed to barely be affected by the onslaught. The Thunderbolt landed to the side, unloading its full arsenal into the Verfolger’s flank. Katarina angled her weapons upwards, trying to get a bead on the enemy ‘Mechs. She snapped a pair of particle cannon shots at the Scourge, but only caught the lip of the ravine.
It was frustrating. She knew she should be doing more. She weaved her Warhammer through the ravine, trying to track the fireight going on above. The Rifleman maneuvered around her, taking shots at the two medium ‘Mechs and keeping them at bay.
—-
-
Once the battle was joined, the value of a Scout lance changed completely. With the enemy located, there was little need to try and find the enemy. Rather, now their value came in their use of harassers and flankers, helping to both contain the enemy’s movement and keep their forces distracted. It was a duty that Leon had taken on himself, while also making sure that the enemy didn’t try to do the same.
As Captain Morrison’s lance had engaged an enemy force, Leon had noted the presence of an enemy force moving on their flank to support them. They were trying to do the same thing that he was, and as he closed in it became obvious that they were dealing with the same force that he had encountered before. And while his lance was down a ‘Mech, with Chai’s Wolfhound still undergoing repairs for its savaged leg, he knew that they were similarly impaired.
His Phoenix Hawk took the lead, vaulting over the rocky ground and purple shrubs with its jump jets as it closed in on the enemy lance. He lashed out with his Large Laser as he did; not expecting to score a hit, but glad when it still managed to score some armor off the Chameleon’s side. Bogerman and Wash followed after him, their smaller ‘Mechs using their greater jump capacity to try and close down the distance.
Not too worried by the hit, the Chameleon continued to advance with the two other members of its lance at its side. Its own laser fire came close to the Phoenix Hawk, but not close enough. A PPC shot from the Wasp had a little more effect, singing armor but not penetrating by any means.
“Break them up and don’t let them get close to anyone else,” Leon ordered as his ‘Mech landed and immediately broke into a run. “The Firestarter can’t reach out too far,” he added. While the enemy ‘Mech could unleash a devastating firestorm at point-blank range, its weaponry beyond that was very limited. However, for the moment, Leon’s focus was on the largest of the three enemy ‘Mechs, the one that was almost certainly their leader.
A pair of affirmatives came from Bogerman and Wash as their ‘Mechs took off, leaping across the battlefield. As they did, Leon ran towards the Chameleon, opening up with his PPC and Medium Lasers on it, acutely aware of the surge in heat as he did. The heat was worth it, with the shots smashing into the Chameleon’s flank, tearing into the armor. Its return fire consisted of a single laser hit that seared most of the protection from his left arm.
With little option but to accept the hit, Leon twisted the Hawk to one side, making sure that it was running between the Chameleon and the rest of the battle. His plan seemed to have worked, with the enemy ‘Mech turning to follow him, clearly intent on keeping him in his sights. Passing between a couple of rocky outcroppings, he opened up again, again keeping up the volley of laser and PPC fire on his opponent. The PPC was the only weapon that made its mark, but definitely had an impact; the beam boring through the Chameleon’s wounded side.
Despite the hits it had taken, the Chameleon continued to follow him, replying with a volley of laser fire. Several hits lashed the Phoenix Hawk, one of which cut through what was left of the armor on the left arm before slicing into the bones below. Leon’s ‘Mech lurched as the lower arm, complete with its weapons, was torn away by the enemy laser fire.
Gotta keep moving. Losing the arm was a blow, but Leon could not afford to let up. Instead, he quickly changed direction, ducking back to a stand of trees as he took in the situation around him. The enemy Firestarter was being harassed by Bogerman and Wash, their ‘Mechs dancing around just outside of its weapons range, stabbing at it with their own lasers. Behind them, the enemy Wasp was keeping up its distance, trying to snipe at the battle with its PPC and missiles.
Ignoring the heat spike for the moment, Leon triggered both his Large Laser and PPC, targeting the enemy Wasp while it was trying to draw a bead. His weapons fire worked out better than expected, with the PPC smashing into the smaller BattleMech’s side. The shot tore through its right side, destroying the missile launcher while sending its right arm crashing to the ground. The light ‘Mech staggered under the blow, only barely keeping its feet. The return fire from the Chameleon sliced armor from the Hawk’s leg, but it was very much an unequal trade.
The Wasp’s MechWarrior managed to recover quickly enough and was obviously aware that their ‘Mech was now disarmed. Firing their jump jets, they vaulted away from the battle, leaving their two comrades behind.
Clearly the enemy commander was thrown by this development as they seemed to second-guess themselves, the medium ‘Mech stopping and stepping back from its pursuit of Leon. It lashed out again with its lasers, with the Large slicing into the Phoenix Hawk’s leg and further worrying the armor. Taking advantage of the confusion, Leon stepped around to keep himself in the Chameleon’s damaged side before lashing out with his PPC and remaining medium laser.
Both weapons hit the ‘Mech, burrowing through the damaged side before tearing onto the structure and systems within. The Chameleon staggered and then suddenly crumpled up as its gyro failed, robbing the ‘Mech of any sense of balance. The fifty ton BattleMech crashed face-down on the ground, kicking up a cloud of dirt as it did.
Further back, the Firestarter’s MechWarrior was clearly aware of what had just happened and had realized just how bad their situation was. They fired their own jets, leaping back in the direction that the Wasp had gone.
”Should we pursue?” Sterling Bogerman’s voice crackled over the command channel.
“Negative,” Leon replied as he glanced at his display. “We’ve got other things to deal with, and I suspect those two have had enough.”
—--
The Warhammer was not the most agile of BattleMechs, and Katarina’s opponents knew it. The enemy Scourge and Verfolger had managed to keep ahead of her and her lancemate’s Rifleman, keeping the fight on the ridges above. Try as she might, she had been unable to draw a bead on either of them. At the same time, enemy’s Lynx and Griffin had been annoyingly elusive.
She snapped off a pair of PPC shots at the Griffin just as it ducked back into cover. The rock formation it was hiding behind exploded into a shower of dust and fragments moments before the Griffin launched into the air. She tracked it as the particle cannons recharged, only to have the Mech land behind a waist-high rise. She fired as soon as she could, one shot hitting the BattleMech’s lower body while the other cut into the rock beneath. Its own flight of missiles scattered around her ‘Mech, while a shot from the Lynx’s own particle cannon tagged her Warhammer’s arm.
At the same time, she kept an eye on the battle above. Her lance’s Thunderbolt was keeping pace with the enemy’s heavy ‘Mechs, who had dealt with the seemingly indestructible Caesar by simply leaving it behind in the broken terrain. She was losing, ever so slowly, but needed something to change.
And then her saviour arrived. “Eye command, this is Dagger Lead. Need an assist?”
Backup. And Katarina knew just how to use them. “Sending you targets on a Lynx and a Griffin. Can you get them off our backs?”
“Roger that,” Leon replied, his tone confident. “You heard her, Dagger Lance. Mark targets and don't hold back”
Even as the Griffin was getting ready to reposition, a lance of light speared out from behind it, cutting into the BattleMech’s rear. Leon Mackinaw’s Phoenix Hawk jetted into view, following up with a blast from its particle cannon. The Griffin seemed to panicking, launching into the air and twisting to face the newcomer, seemingly forgetting about Katarina’s lance. At the same time, a Spider and Wasp seemed to appear out of nowhere, catching the Lynx between them.
“Eye four, with me.” Katarina pushed up the Warhammer’s throttle, bringing it out into open terrain. With the Rifleman alongside her, she turned and angled her weapons up to the top of the ravine. Even though the Lynx and Griffin were at their backs, she was confident in their allies to keep them occupied.
Above them, the Verfolger was closing in on her Thunderbolt’s flank while it faced down the Scourge. They opened fire on the Verfolger, particle beams and autocannon shells slamming into its side. The ungainly ‘Mech was blown off its feet, crashing onto its side and barely avoiding dropping down the ravine. The Scourge responded immediately, turning to face her Warhammer while breaking into a run along the top of the ridge.
“Oh no you don’t,” Katarina declared. She kicked her Warhammer into gear and ran parallel to the Scourge, their torsos angled to face each other. They both opened fire, exchanging shots with little regard for safety. The Scourge raked laser fire across her torso and legs, melting rivers of armour off her ‘Mech. A gauss slug smashed into her damaged arm, sending warning lights across the board. At the same time her particle cannons smashed into the Scourge’s body, nearly causing it to stumble. She followed up with a flight of missiles and her lasers, not caring about the heat flooding her cockpit.
Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the enemy’s situation deteriorating. Her own Rifleman and Thunderbolt had turned the tables on the Verfolger, driving it back and further isolating the Scourge. Katarina cycled her weapons again and fired, feeling a new flush of heat soaking into her. Fire shot between the two ‘Mechs, neither faring better for the exchange.
The Scourge’s lasers tore into her damaged arm, severing it below the shoulder a moment after she fired. The gauss slug caught her in the chest, knocking her off balance and sending her massive BattleMech crashing to the ground. At the same time, her own lasers scored across the enemy’s upper body, while the particle cannons struck at the BattleMech’s hip and leg. Finally, her flight of missiles peppered across its body, the last one crashing into the damaged hip. Something gave in the Scourge’s leg, and the ‘Mech careened forwards, tumbling down the ridge and coming to a stop in an undignified heap at the bottom.
All was quiet for a moment. Katarina could hear little more than her own heavy breathing as the Warhammer’s heat sinks kicked into gear. It would be easy enough to just lie here for a while. But no, there was work to do. She could almost feel her BattleMech’s myomers strain in process as she righted it, noting that across from her the Scourge was staggering to its feet as well. While the damage to its leg was expected, what surprised her was seeing the arm carrying the Scourge’s massive gauss rifle was bent out of shape.
Reports came in from around her. Leon had driven off the two medium ‘Mechs, and the Verfolger hadn’t survived. If their duel continued, there was no doubt in Katarina’s mind who would emerge victorious. The enemy pilot seemed to agree. The Scouorge flicked its stubby left arm up over by its cockpit for a moment before jetting off, putting another rise between their BattleMechs. Katarina stood confused for a moment at the enemy pilot’s gesture - almost like a salute.
“Did they just…” She muttered, then shook herself out of it. “Eye command, reform and advance. We’ve got a battle to win.”
—--
Violetta looked out over the brawl below her. A diverse array of BattleMechs were tangled up with each other, although by this late stage both sides were beginning to thin out. As many ‘Mechs had fallen as had retreated from the field, giving her room to pick out her targets.
Her eyes fell on the towering form of a Battlemaster, flanked by a battered Gallowglas and Crusader. Not only was it the heaviest enemy ‘Mech on the field, but the way the others positioned themselves suggested that it was their commander. It would not be an easy target while it was shielded by its lancemates.
“Go,” she said simply, indicating to the Battlemaster on her display. Beside her, Jurgen’s Helios kicked into flight, soaring from their wooded rise. It arced over the river separating them from the rest of the battlefield. Jurgen fired as he descended, his gauss rifle and lasers slamming into the side of the Gallowglas. Jackson’s Longbow unleashed a tide of missiles which arced overhead, raining down on the same ‘Mech.
Violetta waited a moment for the Crusader to turn in response, exposing its side to her position. She tracked her gauss rifles down and fired, twin slugs punching through the BattleMech’s thigh with deadly precision. The Crusader tumbled as it turned, careening off the injured leg and crashing down onto its back.
She watched the Gallowglas tangle with Jurgen’s ‘Mech as her gauss rifles cycled back up. The Battlemaster was already backpedalling, disengaging from the battle. Jackson targeted it with another hail of missiles, only to be caught in return with a fusilade of particle cannon fire. The boxy Longbow staggered in place, but managed to remain standing. Jackson wisely backed away from the onslaught, retreating to better cover.
Her rifles charged, Violetta returned her attention to the Crusader. Despite its severe damage, it had struggled back to its feet and was aiming its long-range missile launchers up at her. She fired again, sending another pair of hypervelocity slugs through the same damaged leg. It snapped off underneath the Crusader’s weight even as it fired. Missiles scattered across her Gunslinger’s body, doing little more than annoying her.
She hovered her reticule over the fallen Crusader for a moment, but it seemed content not to fight back. Satisfied, Violetta turned her attention to the rest of the command lance. She was annoyed to see the Battlemaster had dropped out of sight, although the Gallowglas was still visible, trading fire with Jurgen’s Helios as it fell back.
“Find that Battlemaster,” Violetta ordered. “I want its head.”
—
“Good as dead,” Jurgen replied as he kicked in the Helios’ jump jets. It soared up and over the enemy Gallowglas, raining laser and short-range missile fire down on the enemy ‘Mech. Jurgen was pumped. This was his time. He’d engaged the enemy commander’s bodyguard, the mirror to his own position. The Battlemaster was retreating, but he’d catch it in time. For now, he was dueling with his counterpart. His alter ego.
His nemesis.
The Gallowglas’ return fire came precise and measured. It delayed until he landed, utilising the brief pause before he started moving again to land accurate fire on his BattleMech’s torso. A brief glance at his readouts showed that his armour wasn’t threatened yet. Instead, Jurgen was more excited than afraid. He circled the Gallowglas, raining fire across its body. The two of them were evenly matched. His missiles gave him an advantage in firepower, while the Gallowglas’ armour was heavier. The enemy pilot seemed to be relying on that fact, maneuvering only to keep tracking him and letting him run around.
“I’ve been waiting for a fight like this,” Jurgen called out over his BattleMech’s speakers. The only response from the Gallowglas was a stony silence. He snarled in frustration in his cockpit and pressed in closer, raining fire across the enemy’s body. His counterpart staggered and began angling back, putting a solid gauss slug and precise laser fire into his torso as they retreated.
“Come on!” Jurgen yelled over his speakers. “Come back and fight me!” He kicked in the jump jets, soaring over their battlefield. He angled the Helios’ body down and fired again. The lasers opened up a gash in the Gallowglas’ arm above its gauss rifle, while the missiles came perilously close to detonating the volatile weapon. Jurgen came to land in the enemy BattleMech’s path, cutting off its retreat.
“Yeah!” He called out. “Got you!”
Before the Challenger X and Hanse tanks, lying in wait, opened fire.
—
“Peyton?” Lana asked from her Battlemaster’s cockpit.
“Armour’s depleted, no critical damage,” came the calm response from the Gallowglas’ pilot. They both spared a moment to watch the blasted wreckage of the Helios collapse to the ground.
“How’d it go?” Isaías asked as his Challenger X advanced.
“Not well,” Lana admitted. “We drew off her bodyguard, but her position is too solid. It’s well covered from a conventional assault, and she’s got an easy line of retreat. Worse still, Andreas is out of the fight.”
“And he was our best counter-battery fire,” Peyton added.
“What now?” Isaías asked. “We can’t just give them free reign of the battlefield. That Longbow’s just too heavily armed.”
Lana scanned her tactical map for a moment. Her troops were tied up, and sending more against the Red Reapers' commander would just weaken their position. She spotted an icon on the map, on its own off to one side of the battle, and smiled. Of course, she had more than her own troops to call on.
“Get back to the battle. Isaías, we need you in there. Peyton, make yourself scarce. If they think I’m with you, all the better.” She received a round of confirmations from her troop.
Lana scanned the battlefield again, double-checking the terrain. She could use their positioning to her advantage. She just needed one more factor in her favour.
She eyed the lone ‘Mech on her map and switched over to a private channel. “Captain Dragan, this is Ugala Kotovski. I require your assistance.”
—
“You lost it?” Violetta hollered over the radio. “It’s a Battlemaster, how do you lose it?”
Before anyone could reply, Jackson cut in. “Incoming missiles,” he said. Violetta checked her scope even as she backpedalled her Gunslinger into the woods. Several flights of missiles were coming from the far end of the battlefield, well beyond their effective range. Even without their cover, there was very little danger from the missiles. So why…
Her musings were answered when the missiles arced downwards and detonated across the battlefield. Thick black smoke spread out before them, obscuring her view. Violetta immediately switched over to her active probe, peering through the smoke clouds as if they weren’t there.
“Jackson, tie targeting to my ‘Mech. They’re going to use the cover to advance on us.” Jackson grunted his acknowledgment. The pair peered through the thick clouds, waiting for the inevitable.
Nothing came.
Violetta frowned at her monitor. Her gauss rifles were ready to fire, set to impale whoever thought they were hidden from her sight. But there was no sign of the enemy. Soon enough, the smoke was dissipating and yet still, nothing was in sight.
Something was very wrong. If they weren’t using the smoke as cover, then it must have been….
Before she could finish the thought, a barrage of particle cannon fire struck the rear of her ‘Mech. The enemy commander’s Battlemaster emerged from the river behind her, steam pouring off its body from the massive heat of its volley. Warnings lit up across her board. She struggled to keep the ‘Mech from teetering over under the massive impact.
Before Jackson could respond, he was struck from the side. A pair of particle cannon beams arced across the battlefield from extreme range. He swiveled the Longbow’s torso to track the attacker, only to catch a glimpse of a black and red Marauder fading into cover.
Violetta righted her Gunslinger and fired. A pair of snap-shots from the gauss rifles crashed into the Battlemaster’s body, shattering armour but leaving the ‘Mech intact. Before it could fire upon her, Jackson dutifully interposed his bulky ‘Mech between them.
The Battlemaster rushed him. Caught by surprise, Jackson unloaded his missile bays straight at the enemy’s commander. Without time to lock on, the missiles scattered wildly with only a handful of them pepperring across the Battlemaster’s body.
It returned fire, splashing particle fire across the Longbow’s body at point-blank range. Before he knew it, the Battlemaster was upon him, lashing out with its blocky fists. Brutal body blows battered the barrel chest of the Longbow, rocking it back and forth under the impacts. He struck out with an awkward kick, going wide as the Battlemaster stepped in. A right hook from the command ‘Mech caught the Longbow in its small head turret. Jackson let out a gasp of alarm as the impact threw him around the cockpit. His head connected with something and he blacked out. Unguided and off-balance, the Longbow toppled over with a mighty crash.
—--
The sound of his autocannon was still ringing in Markov’s ears even after he had eased up on the Koschei’s trigger. The weapon’s ammunition supply was nearly empty, while his armor was reduced to shreds and the BattleMech’s cockpit felt like an oven from all his weapons fire. And yet, for all that effort, his opponents were still standing.
A glance at his tactical display told him that Demon Company were still going, but only in the most technical sense of it. Greene was down, and the rest of his lance were scattered. All the BattleMechs in his and Goric’s lances were still standing, but he could tell that it was only a matter of time before something gave. Given the condition they were in, he suspected that they’d all start falling at once, the dreaded combat loss grouping that commanders feared so much.
He pulled the Koschei back behind a row of rocks before triggering the autocannon again. Several shots smashed into the side of a Thunderbolt, staggering the boxy BattleMech before the roar of the cannon quickly turned into an empty whirr. As the weapon wound down, the Thunderbolt seemed to shake off the attack before replying with a volley of laser fire that savaged his already depleted armor. Several red lights went off on his damage display, only adding to Markov’s irritation.
Acutely aware of his situation, he kept moving, looking for some cover. A snap-shot PPC went wide of the Thunderbolt, doing little to deter the heavy BattleMech’s approach. Taking the chance, he spared the display another glance, noting the positions of the Reapers’ forces. His unit and the rest of their company were caught up in battle with the defenders, but Violetta’s command lance were still well back. They’d been hanging there all the way through the battle while Demon company were in the frontlines.
And now there was a single hostile red marker among them, further disrupting whatever it was that Major Vujic thought she was doing.
A pair of PPC blasts smashed into the Crusader near him, tearing the BattleMech’s right arm off before eating into the flank. The barrel-chested ‘Mech staggered and all but toppled forwards before retaining its balance. Even then, he could tell that it was badly damaged beyond the loss of the arm even without any more information from the pilot within. And even worse, he could see the source of the attack.
Despite its armor being pitted and scored from the damage it had taken, he immediately recognized it as the same Warhammer IIC he had fought before. And in the state we’re in, it could take us down easily. A volley of missile fire smashing into a Cobra served to emphasis the point. And it’s not alone.
“Demon company, pull back,” he ordered as he yanked on the throttle, throwing the Koschei into full reverse. A shot from his PPC smashed into the Thunderbolt’s arm, but it seemed to only bother the enemy ‘Mech, as if to make his frustrations manifest.
Whatever you’re planning, major Vujic, you had better make it work.
—
“Surrender,” Lana called out over Gilgamesh’s speakers. The Battlemaster stepped back from the fallen Longbow, bringing its massive arm cannon to bear on he Gunslinger. The enemy commander fired first, lasers burning across the Battlemaster’s torso even as the massive gauss slugs smashed into its arm. Something broke under the fire, and the heavy particle cannon skewed to one side, its shot going wide.
“It’s over,” Lana said, pressing her attack. She circled around to the right, keeping her damaged arm away from direct fire while opening up with her light particle cannons and missiles. “Your scout turned on you. You’ve lost your protectors. There’s nobody left.”
“I don’t need anybody!” The Gunslinger hollered back as it pressed in on the side, weathering the weapons fire. Another pair of gauss slugs punched into the Battlemaster’s flank, impacting the armour. Lana’s cockpit filled with alarms as systems failed across the board. The damage readout showed structural loss dangerously close to her ammo bays.
“I’ve fought for everything I have, on my own,” the enemy pilot spat out over her speakers. Lana pressed her fire, crashing the chest-mounted particle cannons into the Gunslinger’s boxy torso. She tried to bring the heavy cannon to bear, but the damaged arm would not respond.
“I pity you,” she said over the speakers. This elicited a strangled roar from the other pilot who strode forwards and lashed out with a heavy kick. Caught off-balance, Lana couldn’t keep her ‘Mech upright. It pitched backwards, crashing down on its damaged side. More warnings sounded through the cockpit, and she felt a spike of heat wash over her as the reactor took the brunt of the fall.
Lana looked up to see the massive assault ‘Mech towering over her. Battered as it was, it still brought its gauss rifles to bear on her fallen ‘Mech. Out of the corner of her eye, Lana spied movement in her cockpit. It was the odd little figure, shaken loose from the many impacts she’d suffered, but still hanging on strong.
Lana smiled up at it. “And I’m never alone,” she announced.
—
Violetta stopped for a brief second, but that was all the distraction that was needed. A pair of particle cannons smashed into the Gunslinger from extreme range, eating away at the last shreds of armour on her torso. She turned suddenly, raising the gauss rifles. That Marauder! she thought. The enemy sniper had finally exposed itself, and she could make out its distinctive red and black paint scheme. She vaguely remembered Guise mentioning something about this ‘Mech, but dismissed it as she took aim.
The Marauder fired its top-mounted gun, sending a spray of ballistic pellets across the distance at her. Violetta could almost see them as they went wide, scattering to all sides of her Gunslinger. All but one. It entered her sight, for a moment barreling straight at her before she realised it wasn’t going for the cockpit. Even as the gauss rifle’s charge peaked, the pellet flew unerringly down the rifle’s barrel, impacting into the delicate coils. Violetta felt as much as she saw the gauss rifle tear itself apart from the inside. She cried out as the feedback coursed through her neurohelmet, her ‘Mech staggering as much from the impacts as from her own lack of control.
The Battlemaster fired. The fallen BattleMech’s free arm had reached over and propped up the other, letting it aim the massive particle cannon. The impact punched into her damaged torso. Still reeling from the gauss rifle’s detonation, Violetta was nearly overwhelmed by the rush of heat from her fractured engine.
The Marauder was tracking her. The Battlemaster was clambering to its feet. She had no option left. Cursing loudly, Violetta kicked in her jump jets and soared off the ridge, landing in the dense trees below.
-
Guest Chapter by Zogster
Face To Face
Violetta stepped out of the back of the APC and immediately shielded her eyes from the glare. Ahead of her, the Star of Sumer, one of the mercenary units she had recently fought, had set up camp. A temporary pavillion had been established, providing shade to the numerous people assembled inside, all standing and waiting for her. Behind it, the unit’s Battlemaster and Warhammer towered over the proceedings. They had been repainted into a gleaming white and blue parade scheme, no doubt to impress her.
These meetings were a regular part of life as a mercenary commander. Mercenary units rarely fought to the death, preferring a negotiated surrender when it was obvious who would prevail. And as much as it galled her to admit, Violetta could not keep fighting this campaign. She had contacted the Star to arrange the final details; a return of prisoners, surrender of salvage and other compensation, and finally safe passage off the planet.
She was not in a good position. Their direct confrontation with the two opposing forces had been just short of a disaster. In other campaigns, they came to a cease-fire during a battle and were able to reclaim men and machines that had fallen. But in this case her forces had fled the battlefield, and had nothing to show for it.
Violetta stepped up to the pavilion with Maeve at her side. Once under its shade, the pair of them unwound their headscarves and stepped up to face their opposite numbers. A quartet was arranged before them; two women, both around her age, a grizzled bearded man and a younger one, barely over twenty.
Behind them was a lineup of familiar faces, flanked by guards. Jackson stood tall over the other prisoners, his eyes downcast in shame. Kavya, one of Maeve’s pilots, cast a nervous glance at her company commander, which was met with a reassuring nod. And Rickie, former leader of her miscellaneous detachment seemed to be one big scowl. She couldn’t help but notice absences among the remaining prisoners; her lancemate Jurgen in particular seemed not to have survived. She couldn’t say she was entirely sore about his loss.
And then there was Greene. She realised that she’d barely met the scarred MechWarrior standing in amongst the Red Reapers’ personnel. He was one of Lewis’ - No, Markov’s lieutenants now, and under her command thanks to the deal she’d brokered on the battlefield. Annoyingly enough, due to the depleted state of her own forces she was more reliant on Markov’s goodwill than she ever was on Guise’s. It galled her that she’d have to prioritise him over her own men.
Violetta eyed her opposite numbers warily. The officers before her wore crisp white uniforms, somehow impossibly clean despite the rigours of the campaign. Her eyes fixed on their commander who stood ahead of the others. She was shorter than Violetta, but somehow her bearing brought them eye to eye. She was at attention. Upright. Refined. Poised. Immaculate. Noble, even.
“BattleMech princess,” Violetta growled through her scowl.
“Behave,” Maeve muttered beside her.
Introductions were quickly handled, but when their commander offered a hand, Violetta refused to shake. Instead she silently locked her gaze with the woman. There was a tense moment before the other commander, Lana, lowered her hand and stepped back. She caught a quiet question pass between the young man and the other woman, but after that was silence.
“Business then,” Kotovski said. Her face was set, clearly disappointed in the response she’d received. “We are here to accept the formal surrender of the Red Reapers and Screaming Demons and negotiate terms for the return of prisoners.”
“The Screaming Demons no longer exist,” Violetta replied, a small amount of satisfaction in her voice. “Their remnants have been incorporated into the Red Reapers; as such I am the only one you will be negotiating with.”
“That makes it easier,” Kotovski said.
Violetta knew the drill by now. The victor had the upper hand, and was able to set terms for the return of prisoners and safe passage from the field of conflict. This usually meant extracting a price from the loser, often in C-Bills or battlefield salvage, although the former was used far less these days. And while the Red Reapers had been on the losing end of the salvage race with the Screaming Demons, Guise’s demise and Markov’s new allegiance had brought the campaign’s spoils into her possession. Of course, she was now likely to trade it all away.
She cast her eye across the prisoners once more. There was no question that she would be getting Jackson back, even if she had to strip the unit bare. Greene had to be brought back to placate Markov, lest she lose the only reward this disastrous campaign had netted her. He would be worth more in salvage due to his rank, but it was a price she’d have to pay. There were a bevvy of other useful MechWarriors there as well, and she could only imagine the cost to reclaim them all. But Rickie… She had to admit, the Miscellaneous Detachment would be difficult to replace, and while a capable pilot, Rickie was too much of a loose cannon to fit into a regular command. Perhaps it was best if he was left behind.
“I’m sure we can come to a fair arrangement for my regular MechWarriors and Lieutenant Greene,” she began. “But unfortunately there’s no place in the reorganised unit for Lieutenant David. I presume there will be concessions if he’s not included?”
It seemed everyone had a different reaction to her offer. Across from her, Lana Kotovski seemed taken aback. Could she not believe that someone would abandon a precious officer? Her second, Morrison, was studying Violetta closely. Possibly the cannier of the pair. Behind them, Jackson caught her eye, shaking his head ever so slightly in warning. Whereas Rickie started forwards only to be restrained by the Star’s soldiers.
“You could-hearted bitch,” Maeve muttered beside her. Violetta couldn’t tell if the note in her voice was approval or not.
Kotovski found her voice soon enough. “That’s not an option,” she said. “You don’t get to pick and choose who you take with you.”
“It’s just that he no longer has a place in my unit, and I should not be penalised for taking back someone I cannot use,” Violetta responded.
“That’s your problem,” Morrison flatly replied.
“We’re not going to put aside the resources to take care of one of your MechWarriors, and we’re not abandoning him on this planet,” Kotovski stated.
“You’ll be taking them all,” Morrison confirmed.
Violetta frowned, and caught Rickie’s glare from behind the assembled officers. Her opponents were adamant, and as much as she hated to back down, she needed to keep them happy. A breakdown in negotiations could easily lead to more fighting, something her unit was ill prepared for. Without his unit, Rickie was dead weight that would cost her salvage. But it was a hit she had to take.
Still, if that was how they wanted to play it…
“Very well. I’ll take him.” She paused, and looked Kotovski straight in the eye. “And my scout,” Violetta added.
“No,” Lana immediately replied.
Violetta cocked her head and smiled. It was a small victory, but still a chance to get one over her infuriatingly perfect opposition. “All or nothing, you said. He’s one of my soldiers. And I do miss him so.”
And yet, this was the point that managed to rile up her opposition. “Yasir Malik has requested asylum with our unit. And after hearing how he was recruited-” And Lana seemed to struggle to keep her calm at that word, “-we will be granting him shelter.” The shorter woman locked her gaze with Violetta’s, and she swore she could see the ghost of a smile cross Lana’s face. “Before we return him home.”
Realisation flooded over her. How they knew her forces so well, how they were able to predict her moves. The perfectly executed ambush that cost her the Miscellaneous Detachment and the opportunity to force a surrender before the battle even started. Yasir had flipped on her. She could imagine the boy begging for sanctuary, spilling her unit’s secrets in return for protection from her.
She had to admit, she was impressed.
Violetta nodded, struggling to keep her face neutral. “If that’s what you want, I suppose I have to accept it.” Clearly not how her opposite number would have phrased it, but they agreed nonetheless.
And then it came to the minutiae of assigning salvage. As she had suspected, much of the reserve the Screaming Demons had accumulated went to placating the victors. She struggled to secure the return of Jackson’s Longbow, as it had been captured mostly undamaged. Jurgen’s Helios would have been a prize in the negotiations, if only there were more left of it.
It was arduous, and served as a painful reminder of just how much this campaign had cost her. While her unit had expanded by claiming the Screaming Demons’ assets, by the end of this exchange she would have very little to support them with. She would need work again, fast, and had a feeling that after this disaster, Demos would be less than willing to provide.
Eventually, it was settled. She’d had to yield much to her opponents, but had at least managed to reclaim the Longbow. With the matter settled, Kotovski extended her hand once more to seal the deal. This time, Violetta wordlessly accepted.
“Very well,” Lana said. She nodded to one of the soldiers standing alongside the prisoners, who in turn nodded to Jackson. He stepped forward, passing around the Star’s officers and marching slowly towards Violetta. Around him, the other prisoners stepped out, winding around the assembly and making their way towards the Red Reaper’s camp.
Violetta caught a glimpse of Kayva muttering something to Maeve, before Maeve patted her on the shoulder and sent her on her way. Greene carefully avoided either officer’s gaze and made a beeline for the APC. Meanwhile Rickie cast Violetta a searing glare, but she ignored it. Instead she faced Jackson as he stood before her, eyes downcast, not quite catching her gaze.
“Sorry boss,” he said in a low voice. “No excuse.”
Emotion welled up inside her. Looking up at Jackson, she remembered all the older man had done for her; sheltering her as they grew up together and backing her as she made a play for the unit’s command. And for all that he’d asked for nothing, preferring to stay by her side. She wanted to reach out to him, to reassure him. To let him know that she understood, that the failure was hers alone, and that she held him blameless for what had happened.
That she needed him.
But the world was watching. The last thing she could do was appear weak in front of these other mercenaries. She caught a glimpse of Kotovski’s curious gaze, then turned her full attention back to Jackson. Her words caught in her throat for a moment, so she simply indicated over her shoulder. “Get back to base, soldier,” was all she could find to say.
“Major,” Jackson said. He shot a sharp salute then passed by her, out of sight.
Rickie stepped up after him. He took a moment to hiss “We’re not done,” in her ear before joining the others at the APC.
Silence returned to the gathering. Violetta cast a glance over the Star’s officers once more, before returning her attention to her opposite number.
“That’s everyone,” she said.
“As agreed,” Lana replied. “We will expect you and your forces to vacate the planet with all possible speed.”
So formal. So proper. So insufferably correct. “Of course. My men are packing up as we speak. We should be able to depart shortly.”
“Very well, Major.” Kotovski said. She snapped a salute to Violetta who returned it. “I hope when we next meet, it will be under better circumstances.”
“Couldn’t be worse,” Violetta said, and turned to stalk off.
-
Guest Chapter by KayEmm
LIC Surveillance Log 553-31D
Major Kaitlyn Farris: Baroness Sigonella. Thank you for your time, even if I had not expected to hear from you.
Baroness Giana Sigonella: No, thank you for your service, Major Farris. Right now, Graf Kayserling is focused on other matters, and has delegated matters of the Alwaid reclamation to me.
Farris: I see. I assume that you have been bought up to speed on the current situation.
Sigonella: I have, and I wish to commend you and your unexpected allies on your work. Your efforts against Mandragov and the other warlords, not to mention our unexpected off-world raiders, have allowed us to effectively secure a path across the entire continent. We have reclaimed a proverbial path from sea to sea.
Farris: Thank you, Baroness Sigonella. We are currently engaged in refitting and repairing, but we are getting ready to make our next move. Once we're done, we'll be turning towards warlord Christoforo Salera, who’s holdings border on the former Mandragov territories.
Sigonella: While I do commend you on your dedication to duty, Major Farris, that will not be necessary.
Farris: May I ask why?
Sigonella: The Esteros Assembly has chosen not to extend your contract, Major. As such, it will expire at the end of the month. Furthermore, we will not be providing support for further operations against Salera, Panja or any of the other warlords at this time.
[Pause]
Farris: I see. And is there a reason for this?
Sigonella: Your efforts have significantly cowed the remaining warlords to the point that they were willing to negotiate a settlement rather than continue to fight. As such, your unit is no longer needed. We will be bringing in other mercenary commands that will be better suited to policing and garrison duties while we build up our own forces, but for now, your work here is done.
Farris: Of course.
Sigonella: There will be a formal hand-over in the capitol, complete with a reception for you and your unit. After all, you are the heroes of Esteros and you have helped to deliver us from threats from both without and within. Your efforts have greatly aided in the rebuilding of our world, and we cannot thank you enough for that. However, the situation has changed in ways that we could not have predicted at the time we hired you.
Farris: If I may, Baroness Sigonella?
Sigonella: By all means.
Farris: Is this because I declined your offer to switch sides and support you earlier?
Sigonella: My dear, if anything I should thank you for your loyalty. My losing our little civil war allowed me to be bought back into the fold as a matter of political expediency. If anything, I have done better than I would have as the actual Margrave of Esteros.
Farris: I see.
Sigonella: However, Major Farris, you are a hero to our world. Enjoy your victory. I will send you the details for the hand-over, and I look forward to seeing you in the capitol. Until then.
Farris: And likewise.
[Pause]
Lieutenant Leon Mackinaw: Let me guess, screwed over by the nobles?
Farris: Not us personally, but the assembly seems to have opted for an ‘expedient' option.
Mackinaw: Of course. But as long as we get paid, right?
Farris: I suppose so.
-
Guest chapter by Zogster and KayEmm
Departure
And at long last, it was time to leave.
The expansive Tirana drop port was a hive of activity. The tent city that had sprung up around the two mercenary companies’ drop ships was being rapidly disassembled and packed away. It was an efficient and practiced process, a habit instilled into the two groups’ workers and families over countless deployments.
Walking through the Iron Knights’ rapidly vanishing settlement, Lana Kotovski watched the work with a thoughtful smile. Alongside her, Katarina Morrison glanced at her commander, then followed her gaze. A technician with the Star’s badge on his jumpsuit was helping a couple of the Iron Knights’ support crew break down a temporary shelter and pack it away into a much more portable form.
“Okay, what’s on your mind?” Katarina eventually asked.
“Just thinking. For our different origins and histories, when you dig down, our units are more alike than anything else.”
Katarina shrugged. “I mean, it’s part of the business, right? You’ve got to pack up and leave sometime.”
“Still,” Lana said. “I’m just glad we could find common ground and work together.”
“Just wish it hadn’t taken my rookie mistake to make it happen,” Katarina replied.
“Quit beating yourself up about that,” Lana told her. “It worked out.”
Katarina had come to rue that phrase. There was something almost naive in her commander’s optimism, especially in the cut-throat profession they both worked in. The dirty tactics employed by their most recent adversaries had thrown that into sharp relief for her, and yet as Lana said… Things had worked out.
They strolled in companionable silence for a while. There was a positive air in the work around them, knowing that this was the conclusion of a successful campaign. Everyone here had contributed in some way, and they would all benefit from the spoils. Even Katarina had to admit it was uplifting.
Eventually, they felt reality catching up with them. As the blazing sun rose higher into the sky, the pair turned back towards their own drop ship. Katarina was the first to speak up.
“Fun though this has been-”
“No, you’re right,” Lana cut in, seemingly reading her subordinate’s thoughts. “Plenty to do before lift-off.”
“‘Mechs to load, supplies to secure…”
“And seeing off our new allies,” Lana added.
“True.” Katarina thought of a pricy bottle of gin she’d acquired in Tirana. “Lots of catching up to do.”
They paused on the field and turned to face each other. Lana and Katarina gave each other a crisp salute.
“See you back on board,” Lana told her second.
“Take your time,” Katarina replied. The pair nodded to each other, then turned to go their separate ways.
—--
It had taken Jakub Day a while to approach Kaitlynn Faris, for a wide number of reasons. As a lieutenant of course he had his own duties, organising his men and preparing them for departure. Added to that of course was that Major Faris had plenty to deal with herself, especially this close to departure, And as much as he didn’t want to admit it, the final point was simply working up the courage to consult a superior officer for what he felt was such a small matter.
But finally he steeled himself for the task. After a while of searching, he’d found the Major on the floor of Red Son’s BattleMech bay, overseeing their units as they were secured for departure. He hovered for a moment, telling himself he didn’t want to interfere, before finally finding a chance to approach.
“Major Farris?” he said, stepping up. He came to attention and offered her a crisp salute.
“Lieutenant Day,” she replied with a smile. “And please, call me Kaitlyn or Kait. We're not on the clock here.” There was an easy familiarity to her voice, her tone a lot more relaxed than it had been for the last few weeks.
Jakub dropped the salute, but his posture seemed no more relaxed. “I had a request Major - uh, Kaitlynn. Um…” His words caught in his mouth for a moment, before he found them. “It’s not a formal request, rather something of a personal matter.”
Kait looked thoughtful for a moment, as if there was something on her mind, but she clearly shook it off, returning to that same friendly tone she had adopted before. “By all means. What is it?”
The young man chewed his lip for a moment as he found the words. “Iulia - Captain Dragan has been a great help to me during this campaign. Her advice and guidance were invaluable. So I wanted to make her something as a way of saying thanks.” He paused for a moment, his confidence faltering. “Thing is, I’m not sure what would be appropriate. And as you’re her friend, I thought that… um…” Jakub trailed off, his doubt plain to see.
That seemed to take her by surprise, but again she quickly returned to her same familiar, friendly tone. “That's very kind of you Jakub.” Kaitlyn looked thoughtful, clearly considering the matter carefully. “Honestly, I think it's more if it was something that came from you that she would appreciate the most. But what I think she really would like is a history of your unit. She likes to read and learn.” That bought a smile to her face. “It wouldn't need to be the most detailed account, but something that would teach her more about your people and their background and culture.”
Jakub nodded slowly in response. “I think…” he began, before trailing off. He took a moment to ponder, before snapping his attention back to Kaitlynn. “I think I’ve got something like that. Yeah.” He smiled broadly and shot Kaitlynn another salute. “Thank you, Major. Um, Kaitlynn.”
“No, thank you,” she nodded. “It's very kind of you.”
“I need to see if I can dig this up. Excuse me.” With that, Jakub turned and all but dashed away.
—--
When Katarina Morrison had asked to meet with Kaitlyn, she wasn't sure what to make of the offer. Realizing that it was meant to be an end-cap to their first meeting in the Ur had made it clear that this was an informal affair, which had helped to clear the air. That had left Kait with the issue that the Red Son really had nothing like Ur’s improvised lounge, due to its being a much older and less well maintained vessel. So instead she improvised.
“Not bad, huh?” She asked with a smile. The pair of them were on deck chairs at the front of one of Red Son's fighter bays, the bulky form of a Gotha squatting behind them. With the bay door open, it offered a great view out over the landscape to the horizon, as if they were looking back on all that they had accomplished. A small table and a pair of glasses just added to the atmosphere.
“Okay, wow,” Katarina said, looking out at the purple-tinged view. “This beats my musty lounge chairs any day. I’ve got to step up my drinking game. Speaking of…”
Katarina proffered the bottle. “It’s called New Dawn gin, from a local distillery. Picked it up here in Tirana. Of course, that means local ingredients, so I’ve got no idea what it’s going to be like. Or I’ve got the bottle from Sudeten on hand in case you want to play it safe.”
“Let's try the New Dawn then,” Kait replied with a smile. “Given that it's local, it feels more like we earned it.”
“I like it,” Katarina replied. “Plus it means I’ve got someone to test it on.” She poured a measure from the bottle into each of their glasses, before handing one to Kaitlynn. “Cheers,” she said, raising her own.
“To unexpected allies,” she suggested before taking a sip. The gin was nice, leading to Kait imagining that it was meant to be a premium brand for the planet's nobles. Regardless, it felt good more because if was a shared experience than its actual flavor.
“You know, I was against this,” Katarina mused. “We could have just parked ourselves in the mine we landed at and sat out the conflict. Of course, there’s no telling how that would have turned out.”
“Well I'm glad you didn't,” Kait replied. “And I'm not just saying that because it meant we could win a military victory against Mandragov's army and then the Red Reapers a lot faster than we would have alone,” she explained. “But for two other reasons.”
“First of all was the alliance we formed,” she explained with a small smile. “Which means a lot to me, really. My unit are… strangers in a strange land, is the best way to put it. We spent years rotting away in the Periphery before I took the chance and uprooted us into the Inner Sphere, but it was a big risk. Making allies is going to help us a lot, especially given that you're a part of something bigger.”
“The second is that it was the right thing to do,” she explained. “And I appreciate it a lot. Ours is a somewhat cynical profession where people often think in terms of pure bottom line above all else. That you were willing to stick your necks out to do what was the right thing rather than the expedient one spoke volumes about the people that you are. So thank you.”
“No, thank you,” Katarina said, raising her glass to Kaitlynn. “It’s not what I expected, running into another mercenary unit out here, and to be honest I’m not entirely sure I would have taken that risk. Fortunately, Lana was making that call. But given how things… worked out, I guess, I’m beginning to understand her way of doing things more.”
Kait took another sip, enjoying the flavor, even if thoughts were running through her head. It seemed to be a bit cynical to try to get something personal for herself now after talking about selflessness, but at the same time, there was a burning question in my mind. “Now speaking of, I am curious about one thing. I admit it's a bit of my prying into other people's business, and if it's not my place then I apologize.”
“Ask away. I’m an open book here.
“Jakub mentioned another mercenary unit called King's Tigers,” she considered. “He was making a video for one of their members. I'm guessing your units have a bit of a relationship there.”
Katarina paused. Truth was they were closer to King’s Tigers than anyone realised, since joining up with Maygari’s Renegades coalition. But of course, that wasn’t the kind of thing she should be sharing with an outsider, no matter how much she thought Kaitlynn would be a good fit for the group. Instead, she decided to stick with the facts.
“King’s Tigers hauled out of arse-nowhere in the Taurian Concordat about fifteen years ago. Way I hear it they’d been basically rotting there since the Jihad ended.” Her mouth dipped into a frown as she pressed on. “As I understand, they worked for the Word right up until the fall of the protectorate. So you know, not the most popular of people.”
That definitely resonated with Kaitlyn on a number of levels. “I can relate to that experience,” she admitted.
“Their commander, Lanie, is a good, honest person. She really tries hard to keep everything straight and above board. We worked with them a bit, and it really impressed me how much she takes care of her people.” She gave Kaitlynn a wink and added “She’s one of the good ones. You’d like her.”
She gave a genuine smile, even if she was not being entirely clear in her motivations. “It sounds it.”
“Lanie took a huge risk getting her unit to Galatea. I mean, she could have just sat around with a safe contract to do nothing forever. But she wanted to do better by her people.”
“Plus, Jakub gets along well with her daughter, Angela.” She swished the liquid in her glass as her mouth stretched into a grin. “Which I might have encouraged. A lot.”
That bought on a chuckle. “I can imagine. It sounded like he really likes her.”
“How do I put it?” Katarina pondered for a moment. “It’s like, they’re both going to inherit mercenary units - hopefully not any time soon, mind you. And if, say, the Star’s leader is married to another mercenary commander then all that dynastic bullshit I mentioned is going to matter a whole lot less around here. Plus, they are really cute together,” she added with a shrug.
Kait smiled broadly. “Well that just makes it perfect.” She raised her glass. “To Jakub and Angela.”
—--
Feet pounded on the pavement as Jakub ran across Tirana’s drop port, clutching a thick folder in his arms. The curved form of the Red Son towered over him, its landing ramps still down for now. The grounds were clear, and a last few officers and crew were milling around, completing their final preparations for departure.
Jakub slowed his pace as he scanned the crowd. He quickly picked out Iulia’s distinctive figure in amongst them. Coming to a halt, he called out “Captain Dragan?”
“Lieutenant Day,” Iulia replied with a smile as she turned. “It is a pleasure to see you one last time"
“I wanted to grab you before you left,” he said, still catching his breath. There was a lot to do, and it took me a while to make this and…” He trailed off, glancing down at the folder. “Sorry, let me start again.”
“I wanted to say thank you,” Jakub said. “You’ve taught me a lot while we were here, and really opened my eyes.” He paused, picking his words carefully. “There’s a whole lot more to the Inner Sphere than I ever imagined.”
She nodded ever so slightly in response. “You helped me so much as well. You taught me about your people, their history and their culture. I learned so much from you in our short time working together.”
He brought the folder up between them and patted its cover. From here, Iulia could tell that it was crammed with a variety of papers, and what looked to be notebooks and photographs. She clearly looked thoughtful as she was studying it, as if pondering what exactly it might be. “Mary-Rose Day founded the Comets mercenary unit in 3010, and became its first commander. By all accounts she was a bit um… Flighty?” He shrugged slightly, unsure of the correct term. “Anyway, she wasn’t so good on keeping records, but preferred to, well… Scrapbook.”
Jakub patted the bulging folder. “Her son made it into a unit tradition, and that passed down through the Comets’ commanders. When they joined the Star of Sumer in 3085, it became more of a family tradition, but also expanded to cover the reformed unit as a whole.”
He continued, his voice a touch quieter. “Dad gave it to me just before I lost him and I’ve been keeping it up to date ever since. So I spent all night making copies of everything in there. Kaitlynn said you’re interested in histories and things like that, so I thought you’d like to have it.” He opened the folder to the most recent entry, which included a photo of the Star and Iron Knights’ officers side by side. “After all, you’re a part of it too.”
Iulia gently took the offered folder, looking over a few of its pages, turning them with a slowness that bordered on reverence. “Thank you, Jakub,” she finally spoke. “This is… beautiful. I will treasure it.”
“There’s like… official records and dry histories in our archives and things like that, but this really felt more…” He paused, looking at her with an earnest smile. “Well, more you.”
—--
And finally, it was time to leave.
The Tirana drop port stood quiet and empty, save for the monolithic forms of the waiting drop ships. The former hive of activity had vanished, leaving no trace of the makeshift villages that had sprung up around the massive space craft. BattleMechs and combat vehicles were packed away, personnel were loaded on board, and all was ready for departure.
Save for two figures on the tarmac. They were dwarfed by the titanic ships, yet stood out for the emptiness that surrounded them. Lana Kotovski in her crisp white uniform stepped up to Kaitlynn Faris and saluted.
“Major Farris,” she began.
“Major Kotovski", Kaitlyn replied with her own salute.
“I think it’s fair to say this has been a roaring success. Our mission turned out to be much larger than we had anticipated, but with your unit’s assistance we came away victorious.”
“I have to agree,” Kaitlyn nodded. “All of this was far more than we expected. We could not have achieved as much as we had without you, and I cannot thank you enough for your aid.”
“I’m glad you found us. A lot of other commanders would have stayed out of that fight, or just let both sides exhaust each other. But you came to our aid, and I’m grateful.”
“Your people needed help,” she simply explained. “It was not even that you were fighting our then opponents that mattered. I wasn't going to leave you hanging out to dry because it was convenient to me.” Her tone made it clear that this was something important to her, beyond just simple battlefield expediency.
“There’s another thing.” Lana’s characteristic smile vanished. “My unit is part of an alliance of different mercenary commands operating out of Galatea. It’s not a formal matter or unified command, rather a group that shares information and other resources and works for mutual support.”
That seemed to take Kaitlyn by surprise, but she nodded on reply. “Go on.”
“I’ve been impressed by the way you’ve handled yourself, the way you’ve managed your troops and conducted your campaign. But more than that… It’s clear how much you care for those under your command. I think our group would benefit greatly to have you with us.”
“I see,” she continued. “We were operating out of Kadersteg when we got this contract, but…” as she trailed off, it was clear that she was considering all the implications of what Lana was saying.
“We’re called the Renegades.” She paused a moment, studying Kaitlynn for a reaction. “Find Irisz Maygari, of Maygari’s irregulars. This whole thing was her idea. Of course, with interstellar communication being what it is, she may not be on world at any given time, or it could be hard to get a message through to her. There’s other member units who can help you out; The Dark Suns, King’s Tigers or the Krymzon Guard in particular. I’ll reach out to them when I can.”
“King,” she mouthed, ever so slightly audible before she continued. “I greatly appreciate this, Major Kotovski. My unit are… outsiders would be the best way to put it, although you probably figured that out by this point. An alliance like this would help us a lot.”
“Mercenary commands are solitary by nature,” Lana replied. “I feel too much of the job requires us to be competitors. Suport beyond our own units is hard to come by.” Her genuine smile returned, beaming at Kaitlynn. “I just hope we can support you going forwards.”
-
Guest chapter by KayEmm
The Last Dance
The day had started with a formal memorial service for those who had fallen during the battles on Esteros. As the leader of the Iron Knights, Kaitlyn Farris had led the service, reading out the names of those who had died while doing her best to talk up all they had accomplished. She knew that if they had kept fighting there would have been more losses, and that the Assembly's negotiated peace had spared her and her unit that pain. However, deep down, there was that feeling that she could have done more, the desire to not leave a job unfinished.
As she looked over the assembled ranks of the Iron Knights, she couldn't help but notice how few of the original unit remained. A decade ago she had rescued them from their own exile and lead them out of darkness, but time and the realities of the mercenary life had also taken its toll. Not only did those that they had hired in the years since outnumber the originals, but there had also been a degree of generational change as well, with the children of some older members taking their parents' places.
This was something she'd done before at other times on other worlds. It never got easier, but this time it felt different. She couldn't help but consider all that Lana Kotovski had told her and the opportunities that it represented. We are not alone, she reminded herself. We have allies. When she had bought the Iron Knights back into the Inner Sphere after generations in exile, she had still felt like an outsider, an alien in a strange land. But now that had changed.
And yet, she couldn't help but think of something else that had come up. My family's curse. Still, there was an opportunity there, one that she had not known of before. The King family, allies of her predecessors, had also survived. And in learning this, Kaitlyn saw an opportunity to find the truth of her past and why those that had come before her had made their choices.
In the aftermath she'd taken a little time to herself to collect her thoughts, retreating into the Red Son's bunkroom while everyone else was engaged with other matters. Sitting on one of the bunks, she was interrupted by the slightest of coughs. Looking up, she saw Iulia entering the room. “Have a seat,” Kait offered, shuffling over a little to offer her a place.
Iulia nodded and sat next to her. “How are you?”
“Tired?” Kait managed. “I've done this before, and you've been there. Different worlds and places, but it never seems to get any easier”
“That is good,” Iulia replied. “When it stops affecting you, that is when it is a problem.”
“I suppose so,” she shrugged. “But it just feels a little strange in many ways. This was my dream after all. You know, working in the Inner Sphere, not just going after scraps in the Periphery. And yet...”
“You're not happy with how it ended.”
“I am not,” she agreed. “But I also know that its a part of the job. We're ultimately at the mercy of our employers.”
“That is true,” Iulia nodded. “And what they want may not be the same as what is best for you.” She was looking off into the distance as she spoke, despite the small room.
“hm, now I can tell there's something on your mind.”
“Thinking,” Iulia admitted.
“About anything in particular?” Kaitlyn asked.
"How we got to this.” She shrugged. “The man I was betrothed to.”
“Ah,” Kait managed as she considered the full implications. “Do you, you know, regret how that all worked out?”
“No,” her friend shook her head. “Had things gone differently, I would have done my duty to my family, and so would have he. But I know that the pair of us would have been deeply miserable with the whole arrangement and over time would have grown to hate each other.”
“I suppose so.”
“In fact, the only person who might have been happy with it all would have been my mother,” Iulia added. “As I would have served my primary role of giving her the heir she so desired, my misery be damned.”
“And your mother is, of course, deeply insane.”
“Well yes,” Iulia agreed without the slightest hesitation.
“Still, it could have been worse,” Kait continued. “You could have been betrothed to my cousin.”
Iulia made a disgusted looking face. “No, absolutely not. I would have sooner married a pig”
That caused Kait to laugh a little. “I mean, things didn't really work out like any of us had expected. But at the same time, I'm kind of glad they did.” She took a deep breath. “I miss my parents deeply. But at the same time, if they were still alive and everything else, then we'd still be rotting away on that rock.”
“The universe moves in mysterious ways,” Iulia stated. “What happened to your parents was a tragedy, but it let you take control of your life.”
“I would not have any of this,” Kait agreed. “Or my best friend.” She put her arm around Iula's shoulder, giving the other woman a gentle hug.
“This is true,” Iulia nodded. “And I could not have forseen any of this.”
“And I know you mean that sincerely,” Kait added.
“Well...”
“I should get myself ready,” Kait finished with a sigh. “I have one last duty to attend to.” She stood and headed for the door, only to stop and turn back to her friend. “One other thing. Was Major Kotovski's Battlemaster really cursed?”
“Yes,” Iulia nodded. “Absolutely.”
-----
Much like when the Iron Knights had first arrived on Esteros, their departure was accompanied by a formal reception at Graf Kayserling's estate. She had been there as the commander of the unit, with Leon there as her aide and partner for the evening. Once again they'd donned their dress uniforms, doing their best to appear presentable. None the less, Kait still felt under-dressed and underwhelming compared to the ostentatious apparel of the nobility.
There were a number of notable differences to that first reception, however. The most notable of them was the presence of Baroness Giana Sigonella among the honored guests, having apparently been completely forgiven for her role in the planet's civil war. In a further sign of her apparent redemption, Sigonella's granddaughter had been seated next to Graf Kayserling's son at the formal dinner. Given that the Margrave had been trying to impress that son onto her earlier, Kait could only imagine that plan had changed.
There was one other thing she noticed; a new face in the crowd who stood out due to his apparel. A sharp-looking man, he wore a comparatively simple dark blue suit with a green trim and a pin on his lapel that she did not recognize. She could only assume that he was there from the mysterious Alynia Mercantile League that had employed the Star of Sumer, suggesting that the Esteros Assembly had come to some sort of accommodation with them already. Or, at the very least, Baroness Sigonella had.
Of course there had been speeches from several of those involved. Kaitlyn had been among them, with hers being comparatively short and perfunctory; a reminder that Esteros' current peace had been bought with lives lost and that those involved should not rest on their laurels. She was pretty sure that Baroness Sigonella was side-eyeing her throughout it.
Finally, there had been the ball, a chance for those present to mingle with each other and engage in discrete conversations. Kaitlyn had no doubt that the future of Esteros was being decided on the dance floor, and that dozens of different agendas would be in play by the end of the night. Her response was to play it safe and stick with Leon, knowing that she was now on the outside of whatever future might be forged out of the night's machinations.
“So is this going to happen often?” Kait asked.
“What, noble balls?” Leon replied with a chuckle.
“I meant more of the employer having their own agenda,” Kait explained. “One that doesn't agree with your own operational goals.”
“Well, maybe a bit,” Leon considered. “Or a lot. Or, you know, all the time.”
“You're really an optimist, you know that,” she replied, a smile on her lips.
“Practical experience,” he simply replied. “But no, it won't always be like this. What happened here was a rapidly changing situation and leadership that were struggling to keep up with it. The situation now is completely different to where it was a year ago, and even more so than where it was a year before that. And who knows where it will be a year from now.”
She glanced over again at the man in the suit. “I suppose so.”
“I think the best way to put it is to hope for the best and expect the worst,” Leon admitted. “For every selfish, greedy or cowardly employer there will be one that honest and forward with you. The secret is to try and figure out which way your employer is going to go before they swerve you.”
“True. But still, I couldn't have done this without you,” she admitted. “And not just because of all you did on the battlefield. Your advice on handling the nobles and all that they had going on was invaluable.”
“You took me in, gave me a chance and a BattleMech,” he explained. “Not many people would do that. My looking out for you is the least I can do in return”
“Clearly I did well for that investment,” she nodded. “Which is why I am going to make you another offer.”
“Go on,” he nodded.
“We're going to be dealing with many other employers in future, as well as Lana's... allies,” the last part she kept quiet, even if it seemed pointless to do such. “I'd like you to be at the forefront of my team, helping me to understand our employers and allies, and aiding in our dealings with them"
“Why would you punish me like this?” Leon chuckled. “But you know, I would be glad to.”
“Thank you,” she smiled.
“And if nothing else, I can tell Iulia which ones to curse,” he added.
It was all she could do not to burst out laughing. “Stop it,” Kait finally managed.
“mm, maybe.”
She smiled. “I'll take that.”
-
Guest chapter by Zogster
Counting Costs
“It’s over. You lost. Let it go.”
Violetta Vujic exhaled. Repeating the line to herself in her cramped office onboard Torquemada, the unit’s Union dropship didn’t do much to calm her mood. The microgravity of transit usually helped her relax, but today it just added to her annoyances. Even knowing they were leaving Esteros behind once and for all didn’t help her mood. And as much as she hated what the screen before her showed, she knew worse was yet to come.
The office door slid open and Maeve appeared, floating in mid-air. She was hanging onto the doorframe with one hand and holding a tablet in the other. “Here comes the bad news,” she said and propelled herself into the office.
“Sure. I need more of that,” Violetta replied. She leaned back into her chair and took a hold of the armrests to keep herself from floating away. Maeve took hold of the desk to stop her momentum and righted herself. To an observer, they could almost have been under gravity.
“It’s not all bad news,” Maeve said. She caught Violetta’s fierce gaze and amended her statement. “I mean, it is all bad news, but you can take some of it as good news. Sort of.”
“Just…” For once, she was not in the mood for her BattleMech commander’s banter. Violetta let a groan slip through her teeth, then started again. “Give me the report.”
Maeve nodded, uncharacteristically silent. She handed over the tablet and waited a moment as the unit’s leader scrolled through it.
In time, she spoke up. “Technically we’re up on BattleMechs.” She spent a moment studying Violetta’s face for a reaction but found none. “Adding the remnants of the Screaming Demons more than compensated for our losses, even if they’re down a couple after the final conflict. Problem is, that makes our new Demon Company the most complete of our BattleMech forces.”
“And we can’t reassign anyone from them to bolster your company,” Violetta replied.
Maeve nodded her agreement. “I mean, we can. Sort of. You gave Markov control over the company, but with the agreement we hashed out, he gets to veto any troop movements for former Demons MechWarriors. So… No, basically.”
At this, Violetta glanced up at Maeve. The agreement had worked at the time, and while it hadn’t won them the final battle against the opposing mercenary forces, she knew that their losses would have been much worse without the former Demons’ support.
Of course, Markov and the remainder of his company were handily tucked away on their own dropship and spared from her scowl.
“Good news is that most of our individual lances are intact, just missing a ‘Mech or two. Well, apart from…” Maeve trailed off, watching Violetta’s reaction closely.
Violetta didn’t need Maeve to identify the particular unit in question. Her Miscellaneous Detachment had been wiped out when their own raid on the opponents’ civilians had been ambushed. It had been a devastating blow; not only had she lost four BattleMechs outright, but also the means to carry out the piracy that had provided so much support to her unit.
Maeve had made her feelings on that particular unit clear. If nothing else, Violetta had to admire her restraint in not rubbing the loss in her face.
“Conventional forces were savaged,” Maeve pressed on, as much to break the silence as to get the report over and done with. “Putting the fragmentary remnants of the Demons’ armour and infantry with our own still won’t bring us up to full strength.”
“But Markov was only worried about his ‘Mechs,” Violetta replied.
“Exactly. So we can mostly rebuild that way. The flipside is that by inheriting their dropships, we’ve now got too many transport assets.”
Violetta nodded. The Screaming Demons had not been the best equipped of mercenary units, and it showed in their dropships. Their Triumph was an old but capable design, while the Trojan was nothing more than a simple cargo transport. Woefully inadequate for their needs.
“I’ve been thinking about that,” Violetta replied. “At this point, the Trojan’s just a waste of fuel. We can flog it and refit the Triumph to carry BattleMechs.”
“The refit will be pricy,” Maeve replied. “And ridiculous as it sounds, we probably won’t get much for the Trojan. It’s common as muck, old and in bad shape.”
“Great,” Violetta groaned. “Plus we got stiffed on salvage.”
Maeve nodded. “If there’s an upside, it’s that a lot of the salvage that Guise took from us was already pressed into service, so it’s ours anyway. Well, Markov’s,” she added with a shrug. “Downside is that we got basically nothing out of that to restock our parts and supplies. We could have gotten away with a lot more if you didn’t insist on reclaiming the Longbow.”
“Jackson’s Longbow,” Violetta said, meeting Meave’s gaze. “And I was not going to leave it behind.”
“Okay,” Maeve said with a shrug and looked away. Her commander’s affection for her lancemate seemed completely at odds with her usual callous nature. Maeve was aware they had some kind of history but was careful not to prod it.
“So we move the Demons’ conventional assets onto our own, refit the Triumph and set Markov up on that, sell the Trojan and use what we get from that to re-arm. Assuming your predictions of a crap price for the dropship, where will that leave us?”
“Yay, accountancy,” Maeve said as she took the tablet back from Violetta. “That’s why I wanted to be a MechWarrior.” She glanced up from it momentarily to take in her commander’s frown, then returned to work. She spent a moment tallying up numbers and feeding in a few more. Eventually, she set it aside and looked Violetta square in the eye.
“In desperate need of work,” she replied.
“It’s over. You lost. Let it go.”
Maeve furrowed her brow. She had barely heard her commander muttering to herself and was unable to make out what she said. She gave Violetta a few seconds, but she seemed in no hurry to repeat herself.
For her part, Violetta glanced aside to her desk. A bottle of brandy sat in the top drawer and had done for a long while. The temptation was to just pull it out right now and let it do its thing. But that wouldn’t help anyone. That wasn’t the answer.
“So what happened?” Maeve eventually asked.
“Yasir turned on us,” Violetta said. “Fed them intel on our units and made it easy to predict what we were doing. That’s how they got Rickie, and that’s how they could bait Guise.”
“Imagine that,” Maeve replied. “You kidnap a guy, press him into service and her turns on you. Who could have expected that?”
“He was supposed to be afraid,” Violetta replied. “He shouldn’t have trusted them. I don’t know how they got to him.”
Maeve gave a casual shrug. “Hey, you can’t control everything.”
She started in place when Violetta slammed her fist on the desk. Silence rung out for a moment, and Maeve took the opportunity to study her commander’s face. Violetta’s lips were pulled back, her brows furrowed and her teeth clenched. Her breath whistled through her teeth as she purposefully calmed herself. The best thing Maeve could do was to give her a moment.
“Is that all?” Violetta quietly asked after a while.
“Sadly no,” Maeve replied. “Your favourite person was asking for you. He’s down in the ‘Mech bay.”
Violetta rolled her eyes. She didn’t even need to check who Maeve meant. She pressed her hands against the table and slid out of her chair. “We need to come up with a new name for the Triumph,” she said, before propelling herself past Maeve and out the office door.
“You’re welcome,” Maeve said to herself once Violetta was gone.
-----
“It’s over. You lost. Let it go,” Violetta muttered to herself as she coasted across Torquemada’s BattleMech bay. Microgravity opened up the cavernous space, giving her so much room to move. She enjoyed the feeling of freedom, floating wherever she wanted in her dropship. But responsibility weighed her down even now as she approached her destination.
Demos hung onto one of the upper railings, bobbing awkwardly just off the ground. His satchel jutted out sideways, as if it felt gravity pulling itself in an altogether different direction. She smirked as she saw him fumbling his way through the air, eventually bouncing off the airlock behind him. That at least was a victory for her.
“There you are,” he said, seeing her approach. She reached out and grasped the railing as she approached and used her handhold to gracefully flip over it and bring herself to a halt in front of him. He nodded in approval of her acrobatics and commented, “Yet to get my space legs again.”
“I thought we were done,” she said flatly, staring him down.
“Well, mostly. Obviously, you failed in the contract,” he began as casually as he could. “You weren’t able to secure the continent from Mandragov, so we weren’t able to reestablish our supply lines.”
“Neither did Guise, no matter how much you egged him on,” she countered.
Demos waved a hand in dismissal. “Guise was disposable, you knew that.”
“And?” She said, arms folded. She certainly didn’t need to be reminded of this.
“And so there will be no further renumeration beyond the advance your unit already received.”
“You,” she said, jabbing him in the chest with a finger “Extended the scope of the contract and you,” she added with another jab “Failed to anticipate the level of resistance present.”
“The situation changed while I was in transit,” he said. “I hired a unit that I thought was capable and adaptable.” Beyond that, the slight shrug he gave was all he needed to say.
“So you called me down here to gloat?” she asked.
“I called you down here to say that I still need to make a recommendation to my people on whether to hire you again. Obviously, this failure looks bad, but if we can both agree that there were extenuating circumstances, then maybe I can convince them to overlook this failure.”
“For the right consideration,” Violetta replied, knowing exactly what he could have said.
Demos merely shrugged.
A quick shove from the railing and she would be on him, pressing against the airlock door. The control was easily in reach. She was more experienced in microgravity, and despite his bizarre array of skills she would wager she was the better fighter. He would be in the airlock with the door closed before he could respond. Then… Oh, then…
“It’s over. You lost. Let it go,” she told herself.
“Come again?” Demos asked, confused.
“We’ll get you home,” Violetta replied. “And I think that’ll be enough.”
She turned and kicked off from the catwalk, soaring back the way she came. Demos blinked in confusion but could do no more than watch her slip away.
-
Chapter co-authored with KayEmm
Worthy Adversaries
Redfern House
Newtown Square
28 February, 3152
“To the return of civilization!”
Luis Caesar raised his champagne flute as he looked over the assembled crowd before him. Comprised of the other officers of his unit, Caesar's Cannons, they were gathered in what had once, decades ago, been a grand estate. And while it had dressed up for the occasion, including being adorned with banners depicting the Cannons' crest, there was no disguising the way the building had been stripped of all its finery before this event.
None the less, the assembled crowd replied in kind, raising their own glasses before drinking a toast in reply. In the background, the catering staff stood by to ensure that more dinks and canapés were on standby for when they were needed. To Luis it seemed only fitting that this hall was used for this event. Before the world had fallen to the Jade Falcons, it had been a noble estate belonging to one of the world's ruling families. The Falcons had in their typical brutish way removed them from power while also stripping away any signs of their past legitimacy, and then used the building as a meeting hall for their merchants.
Caesar's Cannons had landed on Newtown Square a week ago to claim the world for the Vesper Marches. They had encountered only a token opposition from a grossly outmatched Jade Falcon garrison force of light tanks and infantry, most of which had been effortlessly crushed in a single battle. If anything, the biggest challenge they were going to face would be restoring a functioning government to the world and undoing decades of Clan indoctrination of the populace. However, that was a concern for the Vesper Marches and duke Brewer, not Luis himself.
He stepped down from his podium to mingle with the rest of his officers. Like him, they were all in their finest dress uniforms, a move that was aimed to impress the people of the world they had just liberated. This was the image he sought to present; his soldiers may be mercenaries, but they were more than just hired guns. Rather, like him, they aspired to be something greater. And in presenting that image, he sought to remind the people of Newtown Square of their noble past so that they may restore the proper governance that they had lost.
Luis sighted Jarvis Northington, his artillery commander and one of the Cannons' senior officers. “Congratulations are in order, Major,” Northington commented, raising his flute. “To a job well done.”
“Thank you,” He replied with a small sip of his own. “And to you and yours as well, for their own superb performance.” It was no exaggeration on his part. The artillery barrage provided by Northington's unit had savaged the defenders before they'd even had a chance to open fore.
“Here's to hoping that the peace is as easy as the war,” Northington commented. “I don't envy Duke Brewer for the work he's going to need to put into this world.”
“It is a disgraceful situation,” Luis agreed. “What it needs is the restoration of proper leadership. The people ruled by their betters, rather than simply elevating commoners.”
“I could not agree more, sir,” Northington nodded. “Maybe Duke Brewer could find some way to reward you for all the work you've done for him.”
Luis smiled ever so slightly. “I am sure that the Duke will be most generous in the treatment of his employees,” he simply stated. Deep down, of course, the idea held a lot of appeal, and Newtown Square would be the perfect place for such an arrangement. After all, the world needed proper leadership and he had already demonstrated his diplomatic skills while acting on behalf of the Vesper Marches. “And maybe we can come to some sort of an-"
“Excuse me, sir,” a breathless voice came from behind.
Ever so slightly irritated, Luis turned to find a junior enlisted soldier present, one who was simply wearing his field uniform and clearly not meant to be there. “What is it, soldier?” He asked, making it clear that his patience was limited.
“Multiple jumpships arrived in-system,” he explained. “I thought you needed to know right away.”
Luis narrowed his eyes. “Reinforcements from the Duke already?”
“If so, they’ve come very quickly,” Northington added.
“No, sir,” the courier admitted, “They're Clan ships. The Hells Horses.”
-----
Alexandria Plains
Newtown Square
5 March 3152
When the Hells Horses had jumped into the Newtown Square system, they had been fully expecting to face a remnant Falcon solhama garrison that would offer little to no resistance. Instead they had been surprised to find that the world had been instead claimed by a mercenary unit in the name of some state they had never heard of, identifying itself as the Vesper Marches. What had been anticipated to be a quick and easy contest had now turned into a real fight.
Which was exactly what Kirsten Ravenwater wanted.
After easily batting aside the few aerospace fighters that the mercenaries could muster, the entire Cluster had made planetfall. While she lead a heavy battle Trinary, Kirsten had been aggressively pushing to locate the enemy and engage them. She could not help but be excited for the opportunity either; after a year of waiting and months of fighting helpless opponents, this was a chance for a real battle. And while their opponents may be dezgra mercenaries, they were still something far more substantial than anything she had faced in the last year and a half.
Her own Ebon Jaguar had been a part of those efforts, leading aggressive sweeps by the rest of the trinary in search of their opponents. While still only middle of the road in terms of mobility, it was also far faster and more agile than many comparable Spheroid machines, while the rest of her star were able to match it at the least. However, her style was less about locating the enemy as it was force recon, finding them while carrying enough firepower to destroy whatever they discovered. It was not a matter of if they were going to engage the enemy, but merely when.
And she was eager to fight.
“Alpha Scout Lead to Alpha Command,” the voice of Star Commander Yushiro crackled over the communicator. “We have contact with hostile forces, grid Golf-Seven.”
Kirsten quickly glanced at her tactical map, noting the relative positions of her unit and the contact. “Understood. Pull back and do not engage for now. We are on our way,” she replied, only barely concealing the eagerness in her voice. Changing channels, she quickly snapped off orders to the rest of her Trinary. “All units, form on me!” She ordered as she bought her BattleMech around. “We have the enemy!”
Around her, other ‘Mechs formed up, while combat vehicles and ProtoMechs from other Trinaries joined them, falling into formation. As she pushed forwards, Kirsten had one eye on her tactical display, eagerly looking forward to the moment when the battle would begin in earnest.
-----
When Luis Caesar had received word of the immanent Clan attack, he had been forced to consider his options. The effortless reclamation of Newtown Square had suddenly become a lot more complicated, and far riskier. While it would have been easy enough to simply abandon the world outright in the face of the Clan assault, that would not have fulfilled his mission and, just as importantly, looked bad in the eyes of the employer that he had worked so hard to impress.
Instead, he had formed up his unit and prepared them to fight back against the invasion. While he knew that his men would be challenged to fight off a clan assault, he also was not willing to give up the world without a fight. Luis was still quietly confident in his men and their capabilities, after all. He knew that they had skilled leaders, ones that were able to draw out their best. Leaders like him.
He'd formed up the Cannons outside of the planet's capitol, a wide open plain stretched out before them. It was a risk, given the range advantage held by many Clan weapons, but he knew that he had ways to offset that. Besides which, it wasn't like he had many options anyway. Much of the surrounding countryside was wide, sweeping plains that offered little in the way of cover, which meant that he had to make the best of a bad situation.
His scout forces had reported contact with Hells Horses' BattleMechs before pulling back, but they'd given him useful information no less. They'd confirmed the location of the enemy, and that they were following the approach that he had expected towards the planetary capitol, exactly as he had expected. Sitting in the command couch of his Falconer, he spared the briefest of glances at his display before opening a channel to his second.
“Captain Northington,” he simply stated. “The enemy is approaching as expected. You may open fire.”
Luis had set up his artillery company on a bluff overlooking the battlefield. The guns opened up, sending a rain of shells arcing across the plains towards the enemy formation.
-----
Kirsten was unsurprised as the first shells rained down around her trinary, explosions kicking up clumps of dirt while rocking the ‘Mechs of her force as they advanced. It was what she had expected the mercenaries to do in order to best use the terrain and to their advantage and offset their obvious weaknesses (being Spheroid mercenaries the most notable of them). In response she had volunteered her Trinary to take the lead and absorb the brunt of the enemy fire, rather than it hitting the more vulnerable and easily damaged tanks following in her wake.
Of course, that also meant that she would be among the first to face the enemy.
She gritted her teeth as a shot hit her Ebon Jaguar, rocking the heavy BattleMech but not slowing it by any means. “Star Commander Skarn, do you have them yet?” She shouted over the tactical net, making sure she was heard clearly over the noise around her.
“Aff,” came the crackling reply. “Firing"
Behind her Trinary, a star of Hadur hovercraft opened fire as one, sending a flight of Arrow artillery missiles soaring overhead and towards the enemy line. Rather than raining down on their frontline forces, however, they instead flew over them and crashed down on the bluff where their artillery was situated. The plan was to suppress the enemy guns at least, although destroying outright them would have been preferable. Either way, it could only help their cause.
“Mark targets!” she called out as she opened up her OmniMech's throttle, less concerned with maintaining formation now what the battle was joined. “Let us show these dezgra mercenaries what real warriors are capable of!” Around her, faster BattleMechs began to push forwards, with Epona and Hephaestus hovertanks advancing on their flanks. Banners depicting the horse-head crest of the clan and the insignia of Alpha Galaxy streamed out behind them, a visible symbol of their eagerness to fight.
Kirsten tagged a heavy BattleMech on her sensors, getting a lock on it even before her targeting system had been able to properly identify it. As soon as she got a lock, she sent two flights of missiles flying towards it, the shots less aimed at killing her opponent as they were about declaring it to be hers. Others in her star followed suit, their weapons seeking out targets among the enemy forces.
The mercenaries responded in kind, scattered long-range missile and cannon fire reaching out to strike some of her ‘Mechs. At the same time, another barrage of artillery shells hit home, this one thinner and far less focused than before.
Behind her, the Hadur star responded in kind, continuing to keep the enemy artillery suppressed.
She closed on her opponent, a Falconer who's form somewhat resembled that of her own Ebon Jaguar. As she closed in, Kirsten changed weapons, lashing out with her twin particle cannons. Heat hit her as the two weapons spat bolts of brilliant artificial lighting at the enemy, spearing into its armor at range. Shrugging it off, she continued to push forwards.
The Falconer replied in kind, its weapons lashing her Ebon Jaguar as it also advanced. A PPC shot blasted armor from her leg, while an LBX autocannon peppered her with shell fragments. However, the attack did little to slow her down, with Kirsten continuing to close in on the enemy ‘Mech.
An alarm got her attention moments before a Gauss Rifle shot flew past her cockpit, having narrowly missed her ‘Mech. Glancing around, she saw the source of the attack, as a Cestus tried to move in on her flank. Should have expected that from a dezgra mercenary, she told herself as she turned the Ebon Jaguar, trying to put some distance between it and the Cestus while keeping the Falconer in her sights.
Her opponent could tell what was going on and tried his best to keep the pressure on. The Falconer surged forwards, doing its best to trap her between it and the Cestus. As it did, its MechWarrior fired again, the same combination of particle cannon and autocannon rocking her ‘Mech. Kirsten ignored the damage for the moment and instead fired back, her twin PPCs giving better than she got as they flayed armor from the enemy BattleMech's side.
The Cestus moved to fire again, only suddenly stagger as a barrage of fire struck it from behind. Kirsten could see the source of the attack as Zara's Procyon point wheeled around the heavy BattleMech, focusing fire on its flank. While their weapons did not do much individual damage, together they represented a barrage that it could not afford to ignore. Turning, the Cestus opened fire on one of the swift, dog-like ProtoMechs, its shots narrowly missing the fast-moving target.
“Surat should not have interfered in your duel,” Zara called over the command channel. “We will deal with him.”
“Appreciated,” Kirsten replied as she returned her attention to the Falconer, the two BattleMechs opening fire on each other again. Having closed the distance, the Falconer added its medium lasers to the mix, the barrage slicing armor from the Ebon Jaguar's armor. A warning alarm went off in Kirsten's ear as one of the LBX shells penetrated her OmniMech's hull, destroying one of the heat sinks.
She ignored it as she closed in, firing her PPCs as well as her missiles. The shots slammed into the Falconer, sending it reeling back under the assault. At the same time, a wave of heat from the weapons fire washed into the cockpit, made all the wore from the loss of the heat sink. Kirsten ignored that too as she continued to push forwards, eager to defeat her opponent.
The pair of them opened up on each other again, shutdown warnings going off in Kirsten's cockpit before she quickly slammed the over-ride. The enemy weapons fire added to the cacophony, with more warnings going off as another shot made it through her armor.
In turn, she gave back far better than she took; the PPCs lashed into the Falconer, flaying at its already damaged armor, tearing open holes in its protection. Her missiles followed through, exploiting the gaps she had opened to assault the fragile systems within. Her opponent staggered back as their right side was obliterated under the assault, the wreckage of the arm crashing to the ground.
-----
Luis Cesar fought to keep his damaged BattleMech under control as it reeled from the enemy attack. Warning alarms filled the cockpit as systems failed, with a sudden spike in the internal heat from a crack in the reactor shielding only adding to the urgency. A glance at his damage diagram showed that the right arm was simply gone, while the right side of his ‘Mech was barely there. And while damaged, his opponent was clearly still standing and ready for more.
He fired his jump jets, tyring to get some distance from the Cauldron Born. A glance at the enemy ‘Mech told him that it was damaged and running hot, but it had still come off far better from that last exchange than he had.
As he leaped, Luis could see that similar scenes were unfolding across the battlefield. An Enyo tank struck at the flank of a heavier Mantuffel, peppering it with laser and missile fire. An Enfield was forced to its knees as a swarm of Elementals tore at its actuators, hobbling the ‘Mech. A team of Minotaur ProtoMechs pushed across the battlefield, almost daring anyone to come at them. And while the Hells Horses had suffered their own losses, they were far fewer than he had hoped for, and far outnumbered by his own.
Clearly things had not gone to plan. And as much as he hated to admit it, the battle was lost.
“Northington, this is Cannon Lead,” he called out over his command channel as the Falconer landed. “Execute barrage sierra-three, on my location."
“Understood, sir,” came the voice of his second, harried but still remaining his cool. They were traits that Luis had admired in the officer, ones that had proven themselves time and time again. Hopefully they would now.
Moments later the first shell arrived, bursting in the air in a cloud of thick black smoke. Others did the same, quickly spreading across the battlefield. He saw the Cauldron Born vanish from sight behind the cloud, giving him a moment’s respite.
“This is Cannon Lead to all units,” he called out over the tactical network, the words all but choking in his throat. “Fall back.”
-----
For all the options that she had considered, the smoke artillery barrage was one that had still caught Kirsten by surprise. When the enemy had covered the field in smoke, she had imagined that it was a prelude to some sort of counterattack or flanking manoeuvre, aimed at trying to regain the initiative. Instead, the dezgra mercenaries had taken the opportunity to run, conceding the battlefield to the Hells Horses. And while this had only been their first battle, some had suspected that it would also be the last, with the lucre-warriors abandoning the world because they saw no profit in continuing to fight.
It was a thought that Kirsten had decidedly mixed feelings about.
Right now, she was leaning back on the leg of her BattleMech, sipping from a water bottle. Her hair was plastered down to the left side of her head, while the right side was still beaded with sweat. She had pushed her ‘Mech hard during the battle, aggressively riding its heat to the limit, but it had definitely been worth it for the victory, or at least that was what she told herself.
Around her, technicians worked to recover damaged ‘Mechs and tanks and get them into working shape. While the battle had been an unquestioned victory for the clan, they had still taken their own losses on the field. However, now it was the responsibility of the Technician caste to ensure that the Clan's forces were ready to do battle again.
She nodded at an approaching figure, one she instantly recognized. With her shaved head decorated with brilliant, tattoo-like circuit patterns, Star Commander Zara Grimheld was a distinctive sight, one who would have stood out even if she wasn't Kirsten's friend. “Good fight?” The ProtoMech pilot asked as she approached. “Specifically, the one you have been itching for this last, what, two years?”
“Aff,” Kirsten replied, even if her tone was a touch hesitant. “How are you?”
“Tinavo was injured during the battle,” Zara said. “The others of my point are looking after him now. I would be with them, but I wanted to see how you had fared too.”
Kirsten nodded in understanding, even if it was something she had never fully grasped. The interplay between a ProtoWarrior and their ProtoMech was a complicated one, but it was made more so by the way that the members of a point interacted with each other. From what Zara had tried to explain to her, the members of a Proto point less worked together as they shared one mind between them. “I am...” she shrugged. “It was a good battle.”
“And I can feel a ‘but' coming on, quiaff?” Zara smirked.
“Aff,” Kirsten admitted. “I mean, we won; we defeated our enemies and claimed this battlefield, if not the whole world for the Clan. I just wish there had been more to it.”
Zara nodded. “And that is not just because you know that Fire Horse are attacking Sudeten, quiaff” she added.
“Well,” Kirsten shrugged. The truth was there; the onetime Jade Falcon capitol with its abundant resources and massive factory complexes represented a far more valuable target than an agricultural world in the edge of the periphery. And even though it was still likely only defended by a solhama force, she imagined that they would put up much more of a fight than these mercenaries had. “I suppose so.”
“Do not worry,” Zara finished. “There will be plenty of opportunities for us to win honor to come"
“This is true,” Kirsten nodded before she raised her water bottle. “To the battles to come.”
“To the battles to come,” Zara replied. “And a glorious future for the Clan.”