September 18, 3018 (Terran Calendar)
Vorolev Dam complex
Independent world of Horizon, in the near Periphery
The unnatural stench of burning Mechs, burning tanks, and burning flesh polluted the crisp late-summer air around the reservoir. At the ruined armored gatehouse atop Vorolev Dam a handful of vehicles and industrialmechs were loading cargo as they wrapped up their work. Meanwhile, on the tourist observation deck just uphill from dam, several rough, heavily armed thugs kept watch as two dozen bound hostages knelt before them in abject silence. Some of the captives were wounded and others wept openly, but none said a word, although one or two glared at their guards with murderous intent.
Off to the side of this group a tall, lanky, and handsome mechwarrior stood, his wavy, sandy blonde hair styled in a fauxhawk fade. He grimaced as he worked out a kink in his shoulder. It had been a hard morning's work. As he stretched, the mechwarrior's cold, gray eyes were drawn to a glint of sunlight flashing off metal far up in the sky.
"Raguel," asked the mechwarrior in a mellifluous voice, "What do you suppose that is? Are we being watched?"
A second man, even taller, heavily tattooed, and endowed with grossly enhanced slabs of muscle shifted the weight of his heavy gyrojet gun as he looked upward. His massive neck and shoulders strained against the attempt. "Well Boss, my wager is on a Royal Army
Boomerang." The big man paused as he gathered his thoughts. "Oh. By the way, Boss. Speakin' of them Royal Army types, we got a call in from Brandon. There's about a brigade of mechanized grunts comin' up Highway 19 right now, and even more behind them. Our guys up front are gettin' kinda concerned."
"A Boomerang, is that so?" The MechWarrior responded as he continued to look upward. He gave no sign that his underling had just informed him that their position was about to be swamped. "Well, I do love an audience. Let's put on a show they'll remember." The MechWarrior gestured for his man to follow as he approached to within speaking distance of the group of captives.
Coming jauntily to a stop in front of the prisoners, the mechwarrior offered a friendly wave and a brilliant, boyish smile. Or, at least, a good imitation of one. He always tried, but his smiles never quite reached his eyes.
"Hi there! I'm Ryan. But I suppose you already knew that. Listen, I'm really sorry about all this," the mechwarrior gestured vaguely to the scenes of destruction around them, "But it's time for us to leave. Before we do, I just need one of you to relay a message to the great leaders of Horizon. So who's willing? You?" The captive under his attention quickly looked away. "Ok, maybe not. How about you then? No? Disappointing."
As Ryan paced in front of the captives they each quailed before him. At last he stopped in front of a man who was also garbed in the attire of a mechwarrior. Blood oozed freely from a deep gash above the man's right eye, but instead of looking away he stared back at Ryan with unflinching hate. Ryan regarded him with a friendly grin.
"Hey, do I know you?" asked Ryan.
"Doubt it," the other man contemptuously. "I've never talked to human sewage before."
The butt of Raguel's gyrojet rifle snapped like a snake as he struck the mechwarrior in the sternum. The man doubled over on his side in a groaning heap.
"Woah, woah, woah. Raguel, buddy, let's ease up on him, ok? He's had a rough day."
"But Boss," said Raguel, "That there is the guy that took out Chocks."
Ryan feigned a surprised look. "Really?
This guy? Well, get him back up! I owed Chocks a fifty. I should practically thank him!" Raguel lifted the mechwarrior back to a kneeling position. Ryan crouched in front of him so that they were nearly at eye level, then gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder. "There you go." As the man found his breath in ragged gasps he continued to glare at Ryan with hate. Ryan ignored this as he looked at the rank and nametag stitched on the man's cooling vest.
"So... Captain Sanderson, is it? Sanderson. Huh. Are you sure you're from around here, Captain?" Ryan poked the nametag. "Usually all the folks we meet from Horizon have last names that sound like somebody just threw a bunch of consonants in a bag, shook 'em up, and then pulled them back out at random. Isn't that right, Raguel?"
Raguel shrugged.
Sanderson said nothing, but still he held Ryan's gaze.
"Oh well. Captain, this has been fun, but like I said, I'm running on a tight schedule. My message is simple. Tell them that this happened because Horizon still refuses to pay tribute. And also, tell them this." As Raguel continued to hold Sanderson in an iron grip, Ryan leaned forward and whispered in Sanderson's ear. Sanderson paled, but only for a moment, as his face flooded anew with red and the veins stood out on his forehead.
Ryan calmly stood up, still smiling. Teeth bared in fury, Sanderson hawked a glob of bloody spittle at him.
"You mother ******!" Sanderson bellowed. He struggled mightily against the giant holding him down, and if he had been free he might have indeed ripped Ryan's throat out then and there. Sadly, Raguel's vicelike grip held him fast. "We'll come for you! All of us! We'll burn you out of every hole you hide in until we cut off your head and stick it on top of a pike!"
Ryan removed a clean white handkerchief from his cooling vest and calmly wiped his cheek. "Well, maybe so, Captain. But that will certainly not happen today." Calmly stowing the handkerchief he drew a cigar and an ornate lighter from a pouch in a smooth motion. Flipping on the lighter to fire up the expensive stogie, Ryan savored the taste of the first few puffs. As he did so he quietly regarded the raging Sanderson through wisps of aromatic smoke.
"Raguel," Ryan said after a moment, blowing out a long puff as he flipped the lighter shut with a
click.
"Boss?"
"Have your men pick whoever they fancy from this group. Then throw the rest off the edge. Out of respect for Chocks, make sure Captain Sanderson here sees everything. When you're done, cut this hero's eyes out. I don't like the way he's looking at me. But don't kill him. Leave him right here."
"Sure, Boss." Raguel drew his Bowie knife with evident relish.
Nearby, the other pirate thugs began to jostle for the best captives. Even as they continued to bicker and bargain with each other they laughed boisterously as the first civilian was thrown screaming over the edge of the observation deck into the river far below. Ryan looked up and waved, smiling happily at the distant HRA Boomerang that was recording everything.
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Twenty minutes later, the Overlord-class dropship
Desert Queen lifted off with the entire Butte Hold raiding contingent and their bounty, down one mechwarrior. As the Overlord pulled into the stratosphere, the lead elements of Horizon's 24th Mechanized Infantry Regiment arrived at the dam. Their engineers were just entering the complex when a series of well-timed blasting charges compromised key internal bracings. The entire center of the dam collapsed, and Zorinsky Reservoir emptied as over three trillion gallons of water roared forward in a deafening, unstoppable torrent.
Captain Sanderson was discovered on top of the observation deck some time later, unconscious but still alive.