Sorry, Makinus, the file archive should have the proper file this time.
Here's the fluff from my first Star League mission for those interested:
Date: April 15, 3040
Planet: Vixen, Magistracy of Canopus
Time: 9:00 a.m. local time
Tyler Jackson was bored. Bored, bored, bored, bored, BOREDboredboredboredbored. He hated this kind of babysitting duty, watching over a bunch of technicians as they scrambled over an underground building site that none of the local corporations had on their maps. Tyler didn't care; he was just bored. He wasn't much interested in technical things beyond what was necessary to maintain and drive his 'Mech. He figured they would just find a bunch of old, discarded power tools and confirm that this was mostly a complete waste of time.
"Hoooooo-wee! We got something here, boys!" Tyler's external microphones picked up the sound as the Zendrin Industries foreman overseeing the recovery project hollered to his coworkers.
Tyler sighed heavily as the foreman, one Nathaniel Hawthorne, looked up at him pointedly.
"Hey, Pilot, can you give us a hand down here? There's a large door down here that got stuck about halfway up, but the area's big enough for your 'Mech to fit down here!"
Suddenly, this mission wasn't looking so boring. Tyler walked his Griffin down into the darkness, to see what he could see.
Inside the underground tunnel, a door wide and tall enough to fit a Leopard-class Dropship gaped halfway open. Detaching his PPC and using both his 'Mech's hands, Tyler's Griffin strained for just a moment, and then the door suddenly slid free of its obstacle and fully opened along its tracks.
Inside stood a pristine Sentinel, with old Star League unit markings, as far as anyone in this group could tell.
"Katarina! You're up!" A short but leggy redhead stepped towards the Sentinel and looked up. Katarina Faimon was Zendrin Industries' foremost lostech technician, though she had only ever read about it, never actually handled it, in the many tech manuals she had managed to find over the years. She had a bright gleam in her eyes as she silently began the climb up the gantry the technician team rolled up next to the Sentinel.
Suddenly, a light went off on Tyler's console, indicating a zipsqueal from one of the local guides that doubled as lookouts for the salvage team. "Hotshot, this is Lookout (Tyler took to calling himself Hotshot on these solo missions, a moniker he didn't dare try to introduce to the rest of the unit yet). We've got incoming! I count three Mechs, medium weight. One looks like a Centurion. The other two I don't recognize, but they sure are goofy-looking 'Mechs."
"Lookout, this is Hotshot. I read you. Keep your head down and don't give them anything to shoot at. I'm on my way."
Looking at the tech teams, Tyler commanded, "Do what you can to get that Sentinel running, people! I don't like odds like these!"
"Already with you, Commander," came the cool, sweet voice from his neurohelmet. "This thing started up on the first try. Must have been an uninitiated security system. It's been a while, but I think I can handle it..."
"That's great, Techwarrior. Get your butt upstairs with me and show them what that thing's got under the hood!" Tyler turned his Griffin, picked up his disengaged PPC, and scrambled towards the ramp leading out into the light, and the thrill of combat...
AFTER-ACTION REPORT
"Now get moving, Mechwarrior, before I change my mind!"
The Centurion pilot didn't hesitate to pick up his comrade's Vulcan and help the legged Mech limp home. Tyler watched them go, keeping his PPC trained on them as they went. The temptation to shoot anyway was almost overwhelming, but Tyler kept himself in check until the Marian 'Mechs disappeared through a thicket of trees. He relished a fight but knew better than to risk a prize like this any more than was necessary.
On top of that, while the Techwarrior (as he already was fond of calling her, since he'd come up with that phrase all by himself on the spur of the moment) had given a good accounting of herself, he could hear through his neurohelmet speakers her after-battle jitters: The sounds of retching reached his ears. She had held her nerves together just long enough to get the Marians to surrender, but she wasn't really trained for battle.
"Just let it all out, sister." It would be the Canopians' job to clean up the cockpit, anyway.
Tyler was feeling pretty good about himself. He just might tell everyone to start calling him "Hotshot" after all...