Blood and Profit (Battletech)

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Imperial Overlord
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Blood and Profit (Battletech)

Post by Imperial Overlord »

"Johansson!" The shout rang across the 'mech bay, causing the astech to look up from the weapon pod he was inspecting. Star Captain Aldon Showers was walking across the bay towards him. Showers was tall, almost as tall as Johansson, and lean. His short dark hair was messy and there was something wrong about his eyes.

"Star Captain," Johansson replied warily. He was a big man and most of his bulk was muscle. Asian blood gave his skin an amber cast, but the rest was stereotypical Scandinavian with blue eyes and blond hair. A fairly normal result of the thirty-first century's mixed gene pool and common as dirt in the Rasalhague Republic and parts of the Draconis Combine. Showers, on the other hand, was darker with skin in the mid brown range, gray eyes, and black hair; a product of two centuries of selective breeding and genetic engineering to create the ultimate 'mechwarrior. The jury was still out on the effectiveness of the program although early reports are cautiously optimistic.

Johansson had known Showers for years and there was something off about him. The Smoke Jaguar was volatile and dangerous when his mood ran sour. "You are done for the day," said Showers. "Go get some of the white lightning I know you've got stashed away and bring two cups."

"Sir, I-"

"Do it."

"Yes sir."

Johansson left the 'mechbay and the its distinctive tang of oil mixed with sweat and cordite and came back in a few minutes to find Showers sitting on a crate and using another one for a table. The entire bay was trying not to pay attention to their eccentric commander. "Sir," said Johansson as put down a bottle and a pair of cups on the crate.

"Take a seat and pour," said Showers. Johansson did.

"What are we drinking to?" Johansson asked cautiously.

"The end of the world Hikaru," said Showers as he raised the cup. "I just got word: Huntress has fallen. Clan Smoke Jaguar is dead. Bottoms up." He took a long drink which ended in a coughing fit. "Kerensky's blood, that is rough."

"You wanted smooth you shouldn't have asked for the product of a miner's still," said the astech. He took a sip. It had quite the kick. "What now?"

"Now?" said Showers. "Now we wait for someone to snap us up. A shitty little garrison on a shitty little rock with a shitty unbreathable atmosphere at the edge of the fucking cluster to small and out of the way to be worth sending a ship to retrieve when fighting for the very life of our clan. We get to live with the shame of the defeat until someone else, probably our Jade Falcon neighbors, remembers we exist and we guard something worth taking. Then they will challenge us for it."

Showers took another drink and then refilled the cup. "And then what?" Hikaru prompted.

"And then we either fight to the death, which is easy enough to do on this shitty rock, so we do not have to live with the shame of our defeat or to impress the Falcons with the warrior prowess of a second line garrison unit of warriors who are dezgra, two steps from being sohalma, or both. Or we offer token resistance in the hopes that our black mark riddled records and over the hill status do not make us so disgusting that the Falcons who need every warrior they can get their talons allow us to join their Touman. The Falcons will then take this mining facility to provide raw material for their war machine. The Falcons use freebirths so its possible you may once again become a 'mechwarrior and join those of who survive in some equally wretched assignment as we count down the days remaining to us." Showers took another drink. "Perhaps a miracle will happen and we will actually get assigned to a unit that will see combat. But I do not believe in miracles."

"Sounds like you've given this some thought."

"I've had a little time. Enough to tell my warriors and then decide to get drunk." He took another drink. "Don't worry. I will write myself up tomorrow. Drunk on duty. Very bad. Good thing I am in charge of a fucking useless garrison assignment that even bandits won't bother with."

"Sounds like a good idea. You might want to change to a higher class of booze."

"Why in the name of all the non existent gods would I do that? My bitch of a clan doesn't deserve better."

"You know you use more contractions when drunk, right?"

"Report me to the fucking loremaster," Showers replied. "Fuck this shit." He took another drink. "Fuck the Inner Sphere and their patched together joke of a Star League. And fuck Clan Smoke Jaguar for being too fucking stupid to learn that war needs more than just ferocious warriors. Fuck the khans, fuck the galaxy commanders, fuck the star colonels, fuck them all. Fuck them all dead or in chains."

"That I will definitely drink to," said Johansson. Both men lifted them cups and drank.

"They say I was born into the wrong clan," said Showers. "I should have been a Wolf. Wolves like nonconformist thinkers. Or Ghost Bear. Or Steel Viper. I was a ristar once, but a ristar who was too dumb not to keep his mouth fucking shut when he had nothing to say that his superiors wanted to hear because he though that his ability to drop bodies was all that mattered. And why shouldn't I have believed it, Clan Smoke Jaguar had spent my entire life telling me that but what they should really have dumped the invincible warrior crap and only taught 'know your place. Don't question the way things are or what we do. Just do your fucking job.' Look how well that served us? Maybe I shouldn't complain. Even if I was a star colonel in a front line cluster I would probably just have died in a burning cockpit or be sitting in a Kurita internment camp."

"True," said Johansson.

"What I wanted to say, I guess I'm not doing this right, is that you won. Your people won. We thought we were going to swoop in and reestablish the Star League at gun point, not that we had any idea on how to do that. Remake you all in our image I guess. But we didn't. Your people did. You paid the price for it, but you won. I wanted you to hear it from me. It wasn't in vain."

"Thank you," said Hikaru. "We're funny kind of friends, aren't we Star Captain."

"A dezgra, over the hill, washed up ristar and a failed Swedish Samurai? Sounds about right."

"More Norwegian than Swedish technically. And I'm only still alive because your Clan doctors are better at their jobs than the fuck ups you call warriors."

"And why didn't you kill yourself later?"

"There's only so far you can take this samurai shit before it becomes bullshit. And your contractions are showing."

"I'm drinking with freebirth mongrel, it doesn't matter."

A tall woman with skin so dark it was almost black walked into the 'mechbay. "Star Captain!" she shouted.

"Over here Arianne," Showers called out. "Join us. There's plenty to go around, as long as you don't mind drinking with freebirths."

She walked towards them. "No thank you, sir. Sir, the Falcon merchant is here again. Asking for you."

"I'm drinking with a freebirth Spheroid technician. This situation can't get more disgraceful without adding the Dark Caste. The fucking Falcon banker can join us."

"Sir, in your state-"

"Yes," he said interrupting, "I do think that that is wise. I just won't sign anything until I sober up. Quiaff?"

"Aff Star Captain," Arianne said resignedly. A pale man with dark hair half a head shorter than her but with features that were equally aquiline walked in a minute later. He wore a dark green suit with brass cuff links and shoulder boards shaped to resemble stylized talons.

"Star Captain," he said, bowing respectfully.

"Mahlon," said Aldon Showers. "Pull up a crate. Join us."

"Perhaps this can wait until you are sober."

"I'm not that drunk. Hikaru, tell him I'm not that drunk."

"He's not drunk enough to forget that he's in charge or not to be good at killing people. Pull up a crate."

"If you insist," said Mahlon.

"So are you here to make sure you recoup the cost of investing in this facility?" asked Showers. "Raw resources are good as for the Falcon war machine as interest payments are, right?"

"Not exactly," said Mahlon. "The news has reached you, quiaff?"

"Aff. Rest in peace Clan Smoke Jaguar." Showers took a drink. "Someone get that Falcon a cup!" he yelled out.

"Not necessary," said Mahlon. A ceramic mug was placed on the crate by a short female tech despite his protestations. Johansson filled it up.

"Drink," said Showers.

Mahlon took a sip. "Nice kick," he said.

"But a little rough," said Johansson.

"A little," said Mahlon.

"So what did you want to talk about, little bird?" asked Showers.

"Have you given any thought towards the future?" Mahlon asked.

"You mean whether or not to go out in a blaze of never remembered glory or try to find a place in the warrior caste of, say Jade Falcon. The demand for dezgra non conformists over thirty must be rather high. There's a spot in the Falcon Guards waiting for me, I sure."

"Well, no," said Mahlon. "There is another option."

"Suicide?" asked Showers. "I'm open to considering it. It has the virtue of saving time and getting straight to the end of my life by skipping all the boring and degrading assignments between then and now."

"There is a place where an proven and experienced warrior of your age with a battlemech like the one you possess is in high demand. Honour, glory, and riches can still be yours."

"What the hell are you saying?" Showers asked.

"He's talking about the Inner Sphere," said Johansson. "And he's right. You could practically write your own ticket there. If you could magically part time and space and get there."

"That's where I step in," said Mahlon. "That and the financing. Interested?"
The Excellent Prismatic Spray. For when you absolutely, positively must kill a motherfucker. Accept no substitutions. Contact a magician of the later Aeons for details. Some conditions may apply.
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drakensis
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Re: Blood and Profit (Battletech)

Post by drakensis »

Nice character piece. Not sure what the merchant is up to but Jade Falcon bankers are just as predatory as the warriors so Showers really should remember not to sign anything until he's sober.

(Also the Steel Vipers may be wardens but in treatment of the civilians they're very nearly as dismissive as the Smoke Jaguars so you might want to pick another Clan for that one mention)
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Re: Blood and Profit (Battletech)

Post by Imperial Overlord »

drakensis wrote:
(Also the Steel Vipers may be wardens but in treatment of the civilians they're very nearly as dismissive as the Smoke Jaguars so you might want to pick another Clan for that one mention)
I most certainly do want the Steel Vipers in that quote. Showers isn't complaining about his clan being excessively dickish, he's complaining about their rigidity. That's why he mentioned the Wolves and the Ghost Bears. Kindness to civilians is one of the traits the Wolves and Ghost Bears have, another (and far more important to Showers) is greater battlefield flexibility than rigidly conservative clans. Steel Viper is, tactically, very nonconformist. They have invented and freely use tactics involving concentration of fire and swarming.
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Re: Blood and Profit (Battletech)

Post by Grimnosh »

Imperial Overlord wrote:
drakensis wrote:
(Also the Steel Vipers may be wardens but in treatment of the civilians they're very nearly as dismissive as the Smoke Jaguars so you might want to pick another Clan for that one mention)
I most certainly do want the Steel Vipers in that quote. Showers isn't complaining about his clan being excessively dickish, he's complaining about their rigidity. That's why he mentioned the Wolves and the Ghost Bears. Kindness to civilians is one of the traits the Wolves and Ghost Bears have, another (and far more important to Showers) is greater battlefield flexibility than rigidly conservative clans. Steel Viper is, tactically, very nonconformist. They have invented and freely use tactics involving concentration of fire and swarming.
Those who are able to adapt to the battlefield the best are inevitably the ones who are most likely to survive it.
You know, its remarkably easy to feed an undead army if all you have are just enemies....
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Re: Blood and Profit (Battletech)

Post by drakensis »

Okay, misinterpreted that then.
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Re: Blood and Profit (Battletech)

Post by Imperial Overlord »

"Let me get this straight," said Showers, swaying slightly. "You're going to transport us to the Inner Sphere so we can work as mercenaries."

"Yes," said Mahlon. "There you will be elite 'mechwarriors with state of the art war machines and not garrison trash. You get honor, wealth, respect, and fame. All things in short supply if you remain here."

"Say I go for this," said Aldon. "How does it work? What do you get out of it?"

"It's fairly straightforward. We contract to take you to the Inner Sphere and stake you start up capital. You pay the loan back with the money you earn. For us a simple piece of merchant caste business. For you, a honorable future. Win-win."

"A fledgling mercenary company isn't exactly the safest investment," said Johansson suspiciously.

"No, it is not," Mahlon agreed. "It is a risk but a risk with a huge potential pay off. Well worth it for us. It is the angles that make it really good."

He leaned forward. "You are still legally a Clan right? So there is nothing illegal about our dealing with you, but you will have access to the Inner Sphere markets. Markets that are technically illegal for us to deal with directly but since you'll have to deal with them, you won't forbid your merchants access. Everyone knows it, but no one is saying it, that Diamond Shark and Nova Cat are making a killing out there. This is our way in."

"What will your warriors say?" asked Shower.

"They won't even notice," said Mahlon. "They do not care what we do as long as we obey their directives and keep the resources flowing in. Which this deal will do. We have gone to war with two Clans since the peace of Tukayyid. We need to build up for the next round of war."

"What if they do notice?"

"It's not likely," said Mahlon. "You have no idea what-well, not everyone keeps their under castes on such a tight leash as the Smoke Jaguars. It will not be labelled 'secret Jaguar deal' in the accounting books. And it is legal. Even if they find out and they command us to stop, there's ways around it."

"Really?"

"The Diamond Sharks and the Nova Cats to name just two would probably be willing to work as in betweens if our warriors didn't like it. Again, perfectly legal."

"Kerensky's blood, what do you get up to? The warrior caste doesn't watch you and you skirt around clan law like it's nothing."

"Jaguar, the warrior caste may fight the Clan's wars but we're the ones that fuel them. Did you think it was a coincidence that the four Invading Clans were among the richest? A Clans Touman is supported by a Clan's wealth. Jade Falcon merchants know our duty and that is to win the next war before our warriors wage it!"

"I can kill you for speaking to me like that," said Showers. "Even drunk as I am, you would already be dead. I like to kill Falcon and I'm good at it. Very good at it. But I like you and there are more than enough fools who deserve my fury. That was, what is the word, hmm, honest. Yes, honest. Pride, but every Falcon has pride. Pride and duty. And I never liked rules much anyway. So how do we work this?"

"We take you to the Inner Sphere along with the ocean's of war material we send to the Zone. Instead of dropping you in the Zone, your jumpship takes you to Outreach, the heart of the Inner Sphere mercenary market. Once there you will be able to sell your services for a premium. There will be plenty of data on contracts available so you won't be taken advantage of and if there is one thing a Jaguar merchant can do it is read a contract carefully. If necessary we can assist you with that, although I don't think that will be necessary. Then there will be regular meetings to pay off what you owe and possibly for resupply and we both benefit."

"Wait, you're willing to supply us with war material?"

"If you are worth it Showers," said Mahlon. "We do not want C-Bills and the Inner Sphere does not want Kerenskies but we both want what each other have and that can be worth more to Clan Jade Falcon than some armour patches and a few crates of LRM ammo. If our arrangement works."

"There's something you're not telling me."

"There is a lot I'm not telling you and that's because its merchant caste business that is very necessary to the well being of my clan but that you would find tedious. You have never struck me as a man it is safe to bore."

"You have that much right. And you will be with me the whole way."

"Well, I guess I could-"

"Good," said Showers, clapping his hand on the merchant's shoulder. "Now I need to sober up for a few hours before addressing my warriors. If I'm still alive tomorrow, we have a deal."

"Still alive?" asked Mahlon. "Really?"

"Tell him Johansson," said Showers as he walked away.

"Really," said Johansson. "This isn't exactly the approved Smoke Jaguar way and they are so very fierce and so very touchy about their honor. No telling how they'll take this."

"Great."

"You think you have it tough, try being one of their bondsmen. I have a borderline psychopath as a drinking partner whether I want him or not and that's the good part of this deal. It's also why he wants you around."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, so he can reward you if you come on through for him or kill you if you betray him. You might want to drink up now."


-----

Sullen and angry warriors in grey and black began to file into auditorium. Thick windows of shaded glass showed the dismal surface of the planet with its dark red rock and soil beneath the swollen orb of a blue-giant sun. The atmosphere wasn't much thicker than the void and the wrong composition for humans to breath anyway. Only the world's mineral wealth attracted settlement.

Most were of 'Mechwarrior phenotype and were indistinguishable from ordinary humans but there was a substantial minority of giant Elementals and a handful of short, slim Pilots. Showers waited until the last trickled in. Blaine, Jus, and Sanders came in at the last. Just in time. Barely. Well, part of the lackadaisical attitude toward discipline and the rules was his fault so fuck complaining about it.

Sanders, the never was who though he had somehow been robbed of a ristar's life was glowering at him. Sander's puny brain was still trying to make his bones, having never figured out that everyone else saw all of his "almosts" as failures. He was a perpetual discipline case. No, he wasn't going to start anything now. He was just falling in.

"My warriors," Aldon bellowed. Smoke Jaguar leadership consisted of a lot of bellowing. "Our clan has fallen, but we remain standing. What now, that is the question. The Clan Way has answers. Suicide is one. We can die with our clan. We can wait until another clan takes us, but what will they be taking? A Second line unit of disgraced, over aged, under achievers. They will read our codexes, laugh, and send us back to this rock or to one even more worthless. They can take us as bondsmen and we will serve their clan as members of the lower castes. Do these choices please you?!" he roared.

"No," the crowd grumbled back.

"Did you say something?" he asked. "I can't tell!"

"No!" the crowd shouted back.

"There is one other choice the Way of the Clans allows us," he said. "We are undefeated warriors of Clan Smoke Jaguar. We go where the Glory Road takes us! To the one place where we can be treated as warriors still. The one place where we can vent our fury and have our war!

"For us there are no more bloodlines, no blood heritages, no Trials of Bloodright, no Bloodnames, no place in the breeding program. No place in the Smoke Jaguar Remembrance. There will be no one left to sing it. But there is still something for us. Immortal glory. So what if no Smoke Jaguar remains to sing it?

"I will write my name into history in the blood of the fallen! The Wolves will remember me and the Falcons too! The Ghost Bears will tremble when they hear my name! I will take my place in their Remembrance! With every fallen leader, with every slain hero I will mark them and their history with my fury! Glorious careers will die stillborn when they meet me. I will be a grave of their futures! Will you join with me? WILL YOU WAR WITH ME?"

"SEYLAH!" they shouted back. "SEYLAH!"

"Then there is only one choice! We take passage to the Inner Sphere and we let no one forget that WE ARE SMOKE JAGUARS!"

"Seylah!" the crowd roared back.

"You have this night," he said. "Make your farewells, mourn the clan as you would. Tomorrow we begin the hegira. Dismissed."

The warriors, his warriors, began to trickle out. Showers smiled. "I guess there is more to leadership than pointing and shooting," he said softly. "Who would have thought?"

He began to walk back towards his quarters. "Star Captain," said Arianne behind him.

He turned around. "Star Commander?"

She came close. "Let's fuck," she said, the crudity almost shocking.

"I thought you weren't interested in me. At all."

"I'm not," she replied and took his hand. She thrust it into her pants, under her panties. "But I really like killing."
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Re: Blood and Profit (Battletech)

Post by Imperial Overlord »

Aldon grabbed a towel as he stepped out of the shower. He quickly dried himself off and put the towel back on the rack before stepping out of the small bathroom. He bent down to pick up his clothes and started to get dressed.

"Leaving so soon?" asked Arianne. Her long, dark body was sprawled out over her bed, sweat slowly cooling on her skin. Her bed took up one side of the room. Above her the room's only light streamed in from the bloated blue giant on the other side of the tinted armorplast.

"I have to meet with the lower castes," said Aldon.

"Just give them their orders when you want them to hear them," she said dismissively.

"It's not that simple anymore," said Aldon. "In the Inner Sphere they can leave. There's no point in taking them with us if they don't want to go." He shrugged. "So they must be given the choice."

She rolled her eyes. "Barbarians." She paused for a moment. "You know you were better than I thought you would be. I am open to doing this again."

"After what, two years?" he chuckled. "Although I can hardly complain about you getting excited by the prospect of bloodshed."

"Well," she said, "you seemed too vicious and self involved to make a good partner."

"Huh," he replied. Aldon shrugged and pulled on his jacket. "Probably half-right about that. I'll keep it in mind."

-----

They were all old. More specifically they were older than most warriors, most of them with faces marked by lines or wrinkles and hair with grey and silver. A Trueborn warrior should be Solahma or dead by that age. That was the Way of the Clans. And yet Natasha Kerensky had died at that age, still feared and deadly, defeated by a warrior not much younger than her. Takashi Kurita had been older when he had fought and killed Smoke Jaguars in Front Line Clusters defending Luthien at the head of a whole regiment of ferocious warriors who should have been dead and buried.

Aldon Showers pushed those thoughts away and tried to focus on the whine of one of the senior Technicians. One of the Merchants interjected. Kerensky's blood he hated having to deal with the nattering of the lower castes. Thankfully they mostly ran themselves. You told them what to deliver and slapped them down when they tried to leave their place, which was rare, and that was it for ninety percent of the time. Unfortunately, that couldn't be it for this conversation.

"-in the time frame that you are asking us to make this decision," said a Merchant caste administrator with grey shot through her short blond hair. "It simply-"

"Enough," barked Showers. The meeting room fell silent. "This is the way that it is. Our clan has fallen. There is a limited window of opportunity in which we can take the offer of Merchant Caste transport. I could command you, but you will have the opportunity to leave at the other end so commanding you against your will is pointless. Those of you who wish to join us are needed, but although we will remain Smoke Jaguar our lives will change. Those who are left behind will be absorbed into another clan, probably Jade Falcon. If you cannot decide to leave with us in short order or you feel you cannot leave swiftly, then you have effectively chosen to stay. There will be no punishment for this.

"Our clan is dead and there is only one future for us that offers anything other than bitterness. You, on the other hand, are not warriors. You did not fail your clan in war and your existence was not so inconsequential as to be forgotten when your clan was fighting for its life. Fighting and losing." He paused to gather himself. "You did not fail, your bloodlines did not fail. You can continue your lives in a new clan without shame. With many good years ahead. You have served your clan well. We do not share such a position.

"So choose. Choose to join us in the Inner Sphere and remain Smoke Jaguars for as long as we can or stay here and join whatever clan takes you. This choice is yours and yours alone. Now go and tell your people."

"Star Captain-" began another Technician as the lower castes stood.

"Go," said Showers. "Go now. This may be the last order I give, but it's an order."


-----

Johansson was waiting in Aldon's quarters with another bottle of rotgut. Besides the bed, the chair and tables were the only major items of furniture. A grey and black striped tabby cat was grooming herself next to the bottle. Hikaru reached out to rub the cat's cheeks. "How is it that a badass, bloodthirsty Smoke Jaguar psychopath like you has a lovable pet like her?"

"She's my spiritual twin," Aldon answered. "Beautiful, low maintenance, and deadly. Also you cannot fucking tame or domesticate a real smoke jaguar because they will rip your goddamn balls off. Have you started?"

"Without you? Don't be -"

"Star Captain," said a voice behind him. Aldon turned around and looked up into Mechwarrior Sander's steely glare. The younger warrior had five years, ten centimeters, and twenty kilos on Aldon. "What is it Sanders?" Aldon asked. Inside he was almost giddy with anticipation. Was he really going to do it?

"Star Captain, what you have asked of us is dishonorable. You would have us abandon the Clan Way and live as Inner Sphere barbarians."

A huge grin split Aldon Showers' face. "Are you challenging me to the Circle of Equals Sanders?" he say low and dangerously. He was almost purring. "Are you telling me that I get to cap this day where I've already gotten hope for the future, drunk, and laid by killing your dumb, freeborn ass? That I can get all my needs taken care of in one day? Sanders, I could almost kiss you."

Sanders snarled. "You are a disgrace that should be Solahma."

"I've never lost a battle I've commanded or a duel I've fought and I've spent a decade fighting. You're a slightly above average graduate of a mediocre sibko who consistently bites off more than he can chew because you're too fucking stupid to realize that you're a mediocrity not the next Aidan Pryde."

"Yes," Sanders almost screamed. "Yes, I will see you in the Circle of Equals!"

"Cafeteria is the closest open space. We don't have the supply line for augmented anymore. Blades or hands Sanders?"

The other Mechwarrior blinked. "What do you mean we can't fight augmented?"

"We need all of our 'mechs so as commander augmented is out. Blades or hands?"

Sanders wasn't such an idiot that he failed to recognize that he was bigger than Showers. "Hands."

"Johansson, clear a space on the cafeteria floor and draw a Circle."

"He isn't a warrior," Sanders objected.

"That's right," Aldon said. "He isn't. Bondsman, consider yourself promoted to the Warrior Caste. Sander's Warhammer is your ride, once I'm done killing him."

"He's a freebirth!" Sanders screamed.

"So was Alexander Kerensky," replied Aldon. "Kerensky's blood, even the Steel Vipers accept freebirths in the Touman's now. If you had any chance of living through this, I would say you can take up a Trial of Refusal with my successor, but there's the little detail that I'm about to kill you."
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Re: Blood and Profit (Battletech)

Post by drakensis »

Aldon is surprisingly likeable for a burned out psychopath.
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Re: Blood and Profit (Battletech)

Post by Imperial Overlord »

drakensis wrote:Aldon is surprisingly likeable for a burned out psychopath.
Thank you. That's almost exactly the line I'm trying to hit.
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Re: Blood and Profit (Battletech)

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The air filled with screeches as tables were hastily pushed to the walls by Laborers, clearing out the center of the room. Johansson nodded. "Good enough," he said. He crouched down and drew a curved line on the floor with a piece of red chalk. He continued around the room, forming a rough circle around ten meters in diameter.

"The left side is deformed," said Tamara.

Johansson looked over at the stocky blond cook and said, "Yes, but it'll do."

"Language bondsman."

"First of all Technicians outrank Laborers because our glorious Warrior class like to have their guns in working order, second as of two minutes ago I'm now a Warrior, and third fuck that pretentious bullshit."

"The bit about being a Warrior was a little too much," said Tamara with a smile. She reached out and flicked the bond cord around his wrist.

"Right," said Johansson and pulled a multitool out of his pants pocket. He opened out the blade, slipped it in between his wrist and the bond cord, and cut the cord. Tamara's eyes bulged.

"Relax Tamara. It takes years for the Warrior caste to produce a Smoke Jaguar grade asshole. Us Drac Samurai are much more spiritually balanced. We've got zen and all the really good shit to keep our wa in shape. It allows us to do something other than scream and leap. Stuff like strategy and tactics, you know, the things that killed this clan stone dead."

"How does he not kill you?" she asked as people began filing in to the room. The kept to the edges, leaving space for the Circle of Equals. All castes were represented in their numbers.

"Same reason this asshole is dead meat and Aldon's ass was banished to this rock," Hikaru replied. "In his eyes blind stupidity is the only thing victory can't excuse."

Sanders and Aldon walked into the room. Aldon stopped at one end of the Circle. Sanders growled as he paced over to the other side. "A little small," said Aldon.

"Sorry," said Johansson.

"You know I'm giving up at least ten kilos to this asshole and he's not very slack about his conditioning. You could have left me with more room to move."

"Do you need it?"

"No, but it does mean I can't play with him," Aldon replied. He stripped off his shirt, jacket, and undershirt. The Star Captain's lean, muscular torso was almost unmarked by scars. Sanders stripped off his upper layers on the other side of the Circle of Equals, revealing a beefier torso marked by a half dozen puckered holes and blade marks as well as burned patch of skin on his right shoulder.

"He isn't as pretty as you," said Johansson.

"Nobody is as pretty as I am," said Aldon. He turned to Sanders. "There's no point in standing on ceremony. We have a Circle, we both want to kill each other. Let's get it on."

"Have you no shame at all?" Sanders snarled.

"I could explain it to you," said Aldon, "but you still wouldn't get it. Besides, waste of time explaining myself to a man who is going to be dead in a minute." He crossed over into the Circle.

"Yes," said Sanders. "Nothing about you will matter at all." He stepped into the Circle.

Aldon closed in flurry of rapid hand strike. Sanders raised arms to block, taking the blows on his forearms and then lashing out with his left and then his right. Aldon dodged, counter attacked, blocked, and slipped a blow through onto Sander's lower ribs. The bigger man grunted, stepped back, and lashed out. Then it happened almost too fast to follow.

Showers caught his wrist, jerked Sanders toward him and off balance while stepping forward himself and twisting. Aldon kicked Sanders in the side of the knee and the bigger man fell with curse. Aldon kicked him twice in the ribs. Sanders rolled free and Aldon kicked him twice more. Sanders blocked a kick and rose shakily to his feet.

Aldon was on him in an instant, feinting high and then landing blows low in. Sanders staggered, blocked a knee to the groin, and had his leg hooked out from under him. Sanders fell near the edge of the Circle. Aldon mounted Sanders, hammering the downed man with blows. He rained down his fury for nearly a minute, strike home again and again, smashing through Sanders' crumbling defenses to bruise and batter flesh.

Panting the Smoke Jaguar rose above his battered victim. He grabbed Sanders by the leg and dragged him back to the center of the Circle. He bent down and seized the other man's head and broke Sanders neck.

"Ahh," said Aldon, "that was good. You," he said pointing at Hikaru, "need to get me a drink. It's been a good day. Someone recycle his worthless carcass. I owe Arianne five Kerenskies."

"Why?" asked Hikaru.

"That's how much I bet her that Sanders was going to get someone else killed. Best money I every lost."
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Re: Blood and Profit (Battletech)

Post by drakensis »

I think the last paragraph needs to be split - it looks like it's all being said by Hikaru but from context the last sentence seems more like Aldon speaking
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Re: Blood and Profit (Battletech)

Post by Imperial Overlord »

drakensis wrote:I think the last paragraph needs to be split - it looks like it's all being said by Hikaru but from context the last sentence seems more like Aldon speaking
Yes it does need to be split, but the board's not letting me edit it.
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Re: Blood and Profit (Battletech)

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Imperial Overlord wrote:
drakensis wrote:I think the last paragraph needs to be split - it looks like it's all being said by Hikaru but from context the last sentence seems more like Aldon speaking
Yes it does need to be split, but the board's not letting me edit it.
FIXED!
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Re: Blood and Profit (Battletech)

Post by Imperial Overlord »

Hikaru slowly chewed a mouthful pork chop and cut off another piece. Footsteps on the floor announced the imminent arrival of someone at his table, probably another trueborn warrior on a mission to eyeball fuck him. He glanced up and saw Aldon Showers walking across the cafeteria floor. The Smoke Jaguar had a folder in his hand.

"You know," Hikaru said, "for an elite ruling class that rest the entire clan exists to service, you guys eat like shit. I mean the best meal I've seen any of you eat would get two stars on a decent planet, tops. And joining the elite ruling class hasn't improved my opinion of the cuisine."

Showers sat down across from him. "I suppose the Inner Sphere does it better?"

"God, you have no idea."

"You will have an opportunity to educate me, if all goes well." Showers pushed the folder across the table. "Take a look at this and tell me what you think?"

"Aff," said Hikaru amiably. He stopped eating and turned the folder around before opening it. "A contract?"

"Yes."

"Shouldn't you have a merchant looking at this?"

"I did. Now I want the opinion of a Spheroid."

"Alright," said Johansson. "It's pretty skinny for a contract." He began reading, flipping the page. "Pretty blunt and to the point."

"We do not seem to possess the Spheroid love of red tape."

"I guess razing society to the ground two hundred years ago and building a new one where duels trump court rulings did a number on legal boiler plate." He continued reading. "You read this bit about the retainer clause?"

"Aff. The Falcons are first in line for our services as long as they hold our debt."

"Right. Now why would-oh fuck." He stopped, his eyes going wide. "This is what they want," Hikaru said excitedly. "This is what they're really after. Not some investment, not a pipe line to Inner Sphere goods; although they'll want that too. Muscle."

"But why would they need warriors? They have the might of Jade Falcon's Touman-oh."

"Yes. Because the might of Jade Falcon Touman is staffed and commanded by warriors. Which means it must definitely not be involved in anything that the noble trueborn warriors of Clan Jade Falcon might not approve of. Like the ambitious schemes of over reaching merchants. Small scale, muscle is easy."

"Really?"

"You don't even think about it do you?" said Johannsson. "It never crosses your fucking mind. Okay, lets lay this out. Sibkos range from twenty to one hundred baby warriors. Four or five graduating from a company of twenty is pretty normal and higher wash out rates are common. That's a seventy-five percent fail rate at the minimum, a few of which are fatalities. What happens to the rest?"

"Reassigned to other castes," said Aldon. "Sometimes after a Second Trial of Position for second line warriors."

"Right. Some of the flush rate become second line warriors and cops, the rest join other castes. Including the merchant caste, since bargaining is a skill a warrior is expected to hone. Thousands upon thousands of them. Every year. Including the caste that handles almost all the logistics and money. Which essentially means they can shuffle around, call up, and pay off all the wash outs in the labor, technician, and merchant castes who were good at killing, but didn't quite make the cut."

"Which means they already have their private army," said Aldon with a frown.

"Yeah, but its one they can't let anyone know about," said Johansson. "If they need to hit a place with a company of 'mechs and things go sideways, they're blown. Heads will roll. But if a bunch of mercenary, half-dark caste Smoke Jaguars hit a place-"

"No one will ever think to ask questions. And none of this is in the contract."

"Or anywhere else."

"And if we talk? Or the lower castes?" Aldon swept the room with a gesture.

"Who is going to ask? It's all conjecture anyway. No proof of any kind. And accidents happen. You have no fucking idea of how much sub rosa business happens among the lower castes. Making trouble for a merchant caste big shot is a good way to have a suit accident. Nothing will get said."

"What you're saying-"

"-is dishonorable. Yeah, I get that. I'm a Drac remember? I know that song and dance. We do a far better job of policing that shit than you do and we still have the Yakuza, the semi-legitimate kings of the underworld as long as they do their bit for the Dragon and keep their shit tidy. Everybody has these guys, to a greater or lesser extent but because they guys with the power to chop head, that is to say you-"

"Us," interjected Aldon.

"Right, us, don't even notice them, they're pretty damn strong. It doesn't hurt that mainstream clan society is absolutely shitty at producing consumer goods, especially entertainment."

"This is a lot to take in."

"Is it? This place pretty much runs itself and you've been fine with that. Sorry, correction, the lower castes run this place. How many rule bends and infractions have you looked the other way for because they make life easier on everyone? How many are you responsible for? And this is just a small, semi-independent outpost at the edge of cluster."

There was a long moment of silence. "Fuck it," said Aldon. "Not my problem anymore."

"That's one way to deal with it," said Hikaru. "Anyway, interest rate is high, but as a high risk venture with fuck all in the way of security because the Jade Falcon Merchant Caste can't exactly bring us to court; not unreasonable. Manageable repayment, if things go well. So yeah, not a bad contract all things considered."

"That's your opinion?"

"Yes."

"If you were me, would you sign it?"

"I would sign anything to get back to the Inner Sphere and worry about the consequences later. But for you, what else is there? For me home is there, but for you home is gone. Honor and glory lay in one direction and that's the Sphere. Yeah, I think you should sign it but I'm biased."

"You're still right."

There was another awkward moment of silence. "So what now?" asked Johansson.

"I sign this and send over the list of all the people and cargo the Falcons will be transporting. They ship us to the Sphere."

"How many people are going for it?" Johansson asked.

"All the warriors. A few of the other castes."

"Mostly Inner Sphere bondsmen and failed warriors?"

"Neg. A third are bondsmen or tested down warriors."

"Then two-thirds of them are smart."

"The Remembrance does call the worlds of the Inner Sphere paradise."

"An overstatement, well maybe not after this rock. I guess I should start packing."

"Aff." Showers got up to leave.

"Aldon."

"What?"

"I'm sincere when I think this is the best shot for you and the rest of your warriors, but it's not like that for me. It's-"

"I know," said Aldon Showers. "This place is a prison for every warrior here. The lower castes, they're doing work that matters. The rest of us are rotting. I do not know what it is like to have a family or a home, but I do know what it is like to be severed from your roots. There is only one direction that offers any hope. I will fight for-"

A shrill alarm cut off Aldon's Showers' words.

"We're under attack?" Johansson asked. "By who? Dark Caste?''

"I don't know," said Showers. "But if they are bandits we can take them and if they are clan their batchall will tell us all we need to know. Get to your machine warrior."

"Aff Star Captain."
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Re: Blood and Profit (Battletech)

Post by drakensis »

That does raise the amusing possibility of the Society trying their secret army schtick and getting crushed underfoot by the Merchant's own covert armed forces.
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Re: Blood and Profit (Battletech)

Post by Imperial Overlord »

Aldon walked into the control room for air/space traffic control, which also served as the mining colony's long distance communication center and space tracking system. The technicians pretended not to be phased by being joined by the volatile warrior joining them and mostly pulled it off. "What do we have?"

Senior Technician Enora came to attention before the Smoke Jaguar Warrior. Behind Showers were Star Commanders Arianne, Larissa, and Leon. "A batchall Star Captain. Recorded and waiting for you."

"Play it over the speakers," Showers ordered.

"This is Star Colonel Jason Carns of the Eleventh Wolf Guards. The Wolves of Kerensky have claimed the warriors of this world as their own. What tame dogs defend them?"

"Wolves," rumbled Leon. The Elemental weighed almost as much as the other three warriors combined. "That is a surprise."

"Aff," said Larissa. The diminutive Aerospace Pilot fingered her dagger star necklace. "I thought the Falcons would pounce first."

"Only if they remembered we exist," said Arianne.

"The Wolves did," said Aldon. "And they made their plan to come here when it was clear Huntress was going to fall, but before it fell so they would get the jump on the Falcons. They want to harvest us to reinforce their second-line clusters." He paused for a moment. "Give me a mike."

Enora passed him a headset with a microphone. Aldon put it on and hit the transmit button. "Warriors of Clan Wolf, I Star Captain Aldon Showers will defend my warriors in my Executioner. I will meet your warriors in the Broken Pillars Crater and I grant them safcon to reach it. To match the value of my warriors I expect your clan to offer up a Timber Wolf Omnimech and the Right of Hegira. How do you reply?"

There was a pause of several minutes. "Bargained well and done Star Captain Aldon Showers. We will meet you in battle at Broken Pillars Crater."

Arianne raised an eyebrow. "Single combat Star Captain?"

"They have numbers so any defenders will be outnumbered," replied Aldon. "They want minimal casualties so they agreed to grant hegira in order to keep it that way. They only other thing of value we have to offer them is the glory of defeating a bloodnamed warrior."

"Which is to say you," said Arianne.

"Aff."

"Which means you will get those clever Wolves to bid hard against each other," said Larissa. "Perhaps too hard."

"Pushing them below cutdown," rumbled Leon.

"We're not that lucky," said Aldon. "Fortunately, I am that good. Enemy assessment?"

"Commanders will be trueborn ristars," said Arianne. "Not bloodnamed. The bloodnamed will not get much glory out of it, but those who are potential contenders for bloodnames will want it badly to secure nomination and sponsorship in the Trial of Bloodright. Probably in the second 'mech. Three 'mechs. Two heavy-assaults and one medium-heavy."

"Cutdown could push it to two heavy-assault," said Larissa.

"No," said Arianne. "Not against a bloodnamed Star Captain. Takes out one early with a lucky shot, beats the other in a gunfight. Could easily happen. You want the third-"

"The Star Colonel wants the third," Leon interjected. "You do not care because you are dead."

"The Star Colonel wants the third because he doesn't want the embarrassment of telling the Galaxy Commander that his first line trueborn warriors failed to overcome a single second line warrior and secure valuable resources for the clan," said Aldon.

"Bidding pressure maybe gets us down to two heavies and a medium," said Arianne. "It will be fierce. Anything better than that is a gift."

"Aff," said Larissa. Leon nodded.

"Best case scenario, outnumbered three to one, out massed two to one, and facing the trickery of the oh so clever Wolves," said Aldon. "Not odds I would choose, but victory is not beyond reach."

"Don't choose a configuration that's low on ammunition," said Arianne.

"Noted," said Aldon. "Anything else?"

"Remind them that they should fear us," replied Larissa. "Remind them that we are still Smoke Jaguars." The rest nodded in savage unison.
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Re: Blood and Profit (Battletech)

Post by LadyTevar »

Even a wolf pack should fear the cornered cat.
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Re: Blood and Profit (Battletech)

Post by LaCroix »

Like it.
A minute's thought suggests that the very idea of this is stupid. A more detailed examination raises the possibility that it might be an answer to the question "how could the Germans win the war after the US gets involved?" - Captain Seafort, in a thread proposing a 1942 'D-Day' in Quiberon Bay

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Re: Blood and Profit (Battletech)

Post by Imperial Overlord »

Dust was kicked up by the mottled grey-black Executioner and then caught by the howling wind. Behind Aldon's 'mech, drawn out in a line abreast, were the rest of the 'mechs of his star, painted in mottled grey-black camouflage. Johansson's Warhammer IIC paced just behind him and on his left and beside him was Jennifer's Zeus. On the right were Brand's Kingfisher, a blocky and tough older design whose sheer toughness, decent speed, and relative affordability kept it in use. Next to Brand's 'mech was an even older design, an Orion IIC, piloted by the unit's oldest Mechwarrior, Kennison. Pacing behind them, her 'mech a host to a point of Elementals, was Arianne in her Stormcrow.

Above them a swollen blue sun rose slowly in the sky, heating the air and driving it before it. Only the thinness of the atmosphere prevented the winds from being more than an irritant, but the outside temperature rose under the hammer of the sun's rays. Fighting in the hot, thin atmosphere would serious impede a 'mech's ability to dissipate heat, a key consideration for any 'mech in combat. It was a consideration that any sensible 'mechwarrior would take into account when configuring an Omnimech for combat.

While "sensible" was not a description many would use when describing Aldon Showers, no one had ever accused him of incompetence when it came to Battlemech combat. His Executioner packed a massive gauss rifle in it's left arm and an up and down pairing of two extended range particle projector cannons along with the tall mech's distinctive and intimidating scowling face head design. The PPCs would be hard on the heat load, but the gauss rifle generated almost none at all. All three weapons were noted for their long effective combat range and their murderous punch. "Murderous" was a word many would use to describe Aldon Showers. He was inclined to take that as a compliment.

Aldon slowed his 'mech down from a run to almost a full stop as he reached the lip of the crater. The landscape here was as bleak and barren as the rest of the planet, an expanse of red-black sand and rock under a void-black sky and a hostile, bloated sun. Air that was too thin and the wrong composition to breath but hot enough to cook a man alive no form of life and allowed far too much radiation from the blue-giant to bombard the surface. Even the mineralogical value of the planet was minimal, making mining attractive only by the resource poor standards of the Kerensky Cluster and then languishing into nearly forgotten backwaters when Clan Smoke Jaguar and Clan Jade Falcon had seized far richer prizes in the Inner Sphere. Deprived of anything to do but rot, Aldon Showers had turned the crater into an arena.

The three kilometer diameter crater had originally only a single spire of rock and dirt as a noticeable feature. Several depressions had been added by earth moving equipment that had then pushed boulders and earth around to form six new truncated towers large enough for a 'mech to use as cover. Some of the smaller debris was left lying around so that infantry and smaller vehicles could use it as cover and then the pit had been used for training and, on two occasions, Trials of Grievance. The battleground held no secrets, but familiarity conveyed an advantage even when it was a place as simple as this.

On the other side of the crater a star of Wolves lopped into position near a well beaten path that ran down the slope. They were painted dark grey with thick red-brown stripes and their clan insignia. They were a Timber Wolf, a Nova, a Linebacker, an Ice Ferret, and a Pouncer. "Linebackers," sneered Arianne. "Leave it to the Warden Wolves to decide that the Timber Wolf should be replaced and the design a 'mech to do it that is inferior to the Stormcrow in every way but weight and cost."

Aldon laughed. "We Smoke Jaguars are a generous clan and allow our brother and sister clans access to our rich stores of stupidity with open hands and open hearts. Do not hate our brother Wolves for availing themselves from our bounty."

"Star Captain," Arianne said, "you are the strangest warrior I have ever served with."

"Thank you," replied Aldon Showers.

"Aldon Showers," came a voice across radio open channels. "I am Star Commander Andrew of the Wolves of Kerensky. I am prepared to fight you for possession of your warriors."

"They never tire of reminding people about that, do they," Arianne muttered.

"Star Commander Andrew," replied Aldon, "enter the crater and the protection of safcon expires and you will face the fury of the Jaguar." With that Showers stepped over the lip of the crater and triggered his jump jets. Blue-white flames shot from the 'mech's legs, slowing it's descent to the crater floor. Aldon shook with the impact and rode the 'mech through it, fighting the tendency for it to bounce in the lower than Earth normal gravity. He kicked the 'mech into a fast walk. "At your convenience Star Commander, but I would appreciate sooner rather than later."

"You are not what I expected in a Smoke Jaguar," replied Andrew. "I do hope you survive this Star Captain, you are an interesting man."

"In the Combine they say the business of a warrior is death," said Aldon. "My Clan is proof that there is virtue in that belief."

The Nova walked forward over the lip of the crater and descended on a its jump jets while the hunchbacked, low slung bullet shaped body of the Linebacker advanced down the slope. The Nova was packing a heavy energy weapon in its right arm pod and a cluster of missile launchers in the left, along with a pair of torso mounted small weapons. The Linebacker appeared to be in primary configuration, with PPC armpods backed up by torso mounted light missile launcher and an extended range small laser. The Nova broke to Aldon's left and began advancing and the Linebacker broke right.

Aldon shifted course slightly, his mind racing. This was not behavior to be expected according to the honor code that governed the Clans zellbrigen, not that Aldon was zealous in his adherence to it. One should be hanging back while the other other engaged, but that was clearly not happening. Of course, he was the only legal target and zellbrigen did allow for lesser units to combine against stronger foes. It wasn't usually followed for 'mech on 'mech, but Clan Ice Hellion did use it and Clan Steel Viper was willing to turn duels into mass combats. Then there was the small matter of the Inner Sphere not following it at all and his opponents being oh so tricky Wolves. Aldon turned ten degree to the left and kicked in the Myomar Acceleration Signal Circuitry and drove the Executioner towards one of the pillars of earth and rock at one hundred twenty percent of the 'mech's normal maximum speed.

After eight seconds he turned off the MASC and turned his 'mechs torso to the right, bringing the gauss rifle in his left arm and the PPCs in his right to bear on Linebacker. The Omnimech was loping towards him, closing into extreme effective end of Aldon's weaponry. He adjusted his aim and fired. Bolts of blue-white light flared from the gun muzzles in his 'mech's right arm and blasted chunks of red hot armour from the Linebacker's left leg and torso. The gauss slug skimmed off the torso armour and smashed into the crater wall behind it. Battlemech armour worked primarily by ablation, but it could manage to absorb or deflect attacks, especially at long range.

PPC flares from the Linebacker and Nova struck a glancing blow on his 'mech's left arm and two near misses. The Linebackerswitched direction, turning it's unwounded side toward Aldon and running full speed towards one of the pillars. "Too late," Showers said softly as the pillar of rock and earth in front of him now blocked the Nova's line of fire. He slowed the 'mech down to almost nothing and aligned the weapon cross hairs onto the Linebacker. He fired.

Both PPC bolts struck the Linebacker in the right torso, blasting out white-hot chunks of armor and detonating the ammunition stored within. The celluaral ammunition storage system channeled the explosion out the back of the Linebacker, saving the 'mech at the cost of ruining the right side. The 'mech's right arm fell limp and its internal temperature spiked as the engine shielding was breached. It's own PPC shot went wide as the 'mech shuddered with the devastating impact. Then the gauss slug struck it just above the cockpit and sent the 'mech sprawling.


-----

Star Commander Andrew pushed his 'mech to a full out run, nearly a hundred kilometers an hour under local gravity. He needed an angle worth firing at. He saw Jase's Linebacker fall. "Freebirth!" he screamed to an uncaring world. He wasn't going to get the shot in time. Not enough of one to matter against an Executioner's armour.

How had it gone wrong so fast? His plan had been brilliant. Bidding himself, Jase, and Alison initially and then bidding away Alison had secured the right to face the only enemy worth fighting this rock possessed. All three of them had graduated easily from the same sibko, easily establishing themselves in their Trials of Position and then going from victory to victory in the Harvest Trial. Jase was one of the better 'Mechwarriors in the cluster Andrew was even better. Two on one was skirting the edges of zellbrigen, but there was still plenty of glory in it and between the two of them they could tear down an assault 'mech. Now it was turning to ash.

He called out on his unit frequency. "Alison, I am breaking my bid. Come down here and put this Smoke Jaguar down fast." Bidding away Alison and her Timber Wolf had allowed him to win the bidding, but it had almost given Star Colonel Jason Carns fits. He had almost invalidating the bidding until Andrew had pointed out what he was planning and the fact that he retained the option of breaking his bid and bringing in one of the most fearsome gunfighters in the Cluster.

"Aff Star Commander," Alison drawled. Her 'mech heaved into motion, accelerating into a bouncy run as she didn't bother compensating for the lower grav and pushed her 'mech all out. The Timber Wolf looked a lot like the Linebacker's bigger, more elegant brother. A bullet headed body was mounted on backwards bending chicken walker legs and augmented with boxy missile launchers and low slung arms ending in over-under heavy and medium extended range lasers. The 'mech was a design exclusively produced by Clan Wolf and gifts to other Clans of part of their production runs of this potent 'mech were as powerful an asset in its own right as direct deployment of the Omnimech to the battlefield.

-----

Aldon glanced at his weapon's display, noting that they were almost through their recharge cycle. "Star Captain!" Arianne called over the radio. "Timber Wolf incoming!"

"I see it," said Showers as he altered course slightly and accelerated. The Linebacker was struggling to it's feet, the pilot overcompensating for the 'mech's mass and the dead weight of its unresponsive arm due to the lighter gravity. In a few moments he would be racing again, with half of his arsenal intact, a manageable heat load, and two allies. But that would never happen because Shower's weapons had finished recharging.

The gauss slug missed by centimeters but the PPCs ripped into the Linebacker's ruined side and blew apart more engine shielding in a flare of blue-white light and molten fragments. The reactor crash-failed and the Linebacker became a powerless coffin, falling helpless to the rocky ground. The heat from the PPCs had turned the Executioner's cockpit into a sauna, but Aldon managed to push on, driving the Executioner to full speed in order to circle the pillar and take cover from the Nova while giving the Omnimech's formidable heat sink array the time to dump the heat from killing the Linebacker.

He almost made it. Andrew's 'mech cleared the pillar and managed a snap shot with his PPC before Aldon made it into cover. He should have missed. Instead Andrew blasted chunks of armour on Aldon's left leg to slag. The Executioner staggered for a step, but it's momentum helped keep it moving forward and into cover just before the Streak Short Range Missile's in the Nova's other arm managed to lock on.

The Nova abruptly skidded to a halt and reversed direction, moving to meet Showers as the Executioner circled the pillar, forcing the 'mech to meet one of them head on while the other flanked him. Showers chose the Nova without any hesitation. The Executioner rounded the pillar and met Andrew head on.

Andrew's PPC blew armour off the Executioner's right side and then the Streak launcher's locked on. A storm of missiles smashed into the Executioner's upper torso and ravaged the 'mech's armour, leaving the right side almost bare. Shower's PPCs tore open the armour on the Nova's right arm and side while the gauss rifle blasted apart ablative plates on the mech's main body in a flash of white light. Andrew fought to control the Nova after the heavy impacts, a problem that Shower's easily managed due to his Executioner's greater mass and his familiarity with the low grav environment. It took a few moments for Andrew to regain his aim. Moments that Shower's used well.

The Smoke Jaguar slowed his 'mech and moved sideways, placing the artificial tower of earth and rock at his 'mech's back while turning it so that the left side angled toward the Nova. The Nova stepped to his right and Andrew shifted his aim to fire on the weakened side armour but those moments cost him. Aldon's weapons came back on line just before Andrew opened fire.

The Nova's main body was cored as the gauss slug and PPC blasts struck almost simoultaneously. White-hot fragments were blown from the hole in the middle of the 'mech's main body. Andrew screamed wordlessly as his 'mech slowly toppled face first into the dirt. The Executioner stood there, weapons cooling, as the Nova lay there and the Timber Wolf closed. Then Shower's turned and walked around pillar.

The Timber Wolf had eaten up much to the distance between them. By the time Aldon peaked out to face her, he was well within the range of Alison's lasers and long range missiles. The LRMs were a very effective weapon, but they weren't Alison's weapon of choice. Guns were what she did bests. Lasers, gauss rifles, PPCs, and autocannons were her primary killing tools and she was very good at it. Shower's was half turned away from her, protecting his wounded side but that wouldn't save him. A volley of laser fire or two would burn holes in the rest of his armour and then she would either shoot through those holes or the LRM swarms would eat his 'mech's guts. She hoped they would get to keep him and not waste him sending him to a provisional garrison cluster. He would make a good addition to their star.

Her lasers carved burning wounds on the Executioner's chest and right leg. Shower's return fire from his PPCs was enough to stagger her 'mech, but the Timber Wolf was a larger and more robust design than either the Linebacker or the Nova. A leg and a torso hit wasn't enough to down her or compromise her armour badly enough that she could be easily finished off. Alison steadied the 'mech and saw the gauss rifle pointing straight at her 'mech. From within the gun barrel there was a flash of discharging capacitors and then nothing at all. Forever.

Showers watched the Timber Wolf fall to the ground. "Clan Wolf, your warriors are defeated. We will be leaving this system soon and I remind you of your obligations to honour hegira and to present us with an intact Timber Wolf as issorla. Have your merchants contact ours if you wants your warriors back, but tell them to bid high, many Clans are rebuilding their Toumans and I am sure I can get good offers from the Ice Hellions and the Jade Falcons."
The Excellent Prismatic Spray. For when you absolutely, positively must kill a motherfucker. Accept no substitutions. Contact a magician of the later Aeons for details. Some conditions may apply.
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LaCroix
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Re: Blood and Profit (Battletech)

Post by LaCroix »

Gauss to the cockpit? That warrior can only be returned in a bucket.
A minute's thought suggests that the very idea of this is stupid. A more detailed examination raises the possibility that it might be an answer to the question "how could the Germans win the war after the US gets involved?" - Captain Seafort, in a thread proposing a 1942 'D-Day' in Quiberon Bay

I do archery skeet. With a Trebuchet.
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drakensis
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Re: Blood and Profit (Battletech)

Post by drakensis »

An Orion IIC? No wonder the Wolves are the Clan that turned up. They'd want that back in their possession.
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Grimnosh
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Re: Blood and Profit (Battletech)

Post by Grimnosh »

LaCroix wrote:Gauss to the cockpit? That warrior can only be returned in a bucket.
You'd need a sponge and some water to do that
You know, its remarkably easy to feed an undead army if all you have are just enemies....
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LaCroix
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Re: Blood and Profit (Battletech)

Post by LaCroix »

Grimnosh wrote:
LaCroix wrote:Gauss to the cockpit? That warrior can only be returned in a bucket.
You'd need a sponge and some water to do that
Hence the bucket, aff?
A minute's thought suggests that the very idea of this is stupid. A more detailed examination raises the possibility that it might be an answer to the question "how could the Germans win the war after the US gets involved?" - Captain Seafort, in a thread proposing a 1942 'D-Day' in Quiberon Bay

I do archery skeet. With a Trebuchet.
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