-Heir to the Dugong-

By: The Warriors of the Dropship

Edited by Pyro


Editor's Forerant:

                I hope you enjoy this work, it came from all of us demented minds in the Warriors of the Dropship during a weeks-long session of creativity in a BattleTech fanbase that has been unparalleled since.  In the interests of not having this wonderful work of fan-fiction die out altogether, I have endeavored to collect it from The Dropship's old message board, and edit it into a format that is easy to download and read for all the unfortunate souls who had the displeasure of missing this story on its first run. 

                I have maintained all of the original commentary messages posted by the board's members as well, as these give a significant flavor to the story that it would lack if it was ever compiled into a cleaner format.  The original mispellings have also been maintained, because these add a certain level of character to the story, and because the editor is notoriously lazy.

                I find it relevant to note that this is a work of fiction, and is in no way serious.  It is based on the alternate BattleTech universe created by MacAttack's Tide of Goldfish fanfic.  No ownership of any of the copyrighted properties mentioned herein is implied, and all trademarks and intellectual properties not used are the property of FASA Corporation, Wizkids LLC, Microsoft, The Warriors of the Dropship Secret World Government, or some other greedy money-grubbing corporate enterprise.


-Pyro, contributing author-impersonator and editor.





By David Richards

Since Mac found Stackpole's forthcoming novel and posted it here, I've kept my eyes open. And lo and behold, what have I found: A tatty manuscript which is surely Robert N. Charrette's forthcoming BT novel! I'll be releasing it a chapter at a time. Though inferior to Stackpole's, maybe it'll amuse people until the Clams of Kerensky is released.

By David Richards

Heir to the Dugong


Following the desperate struggle against Stefan Amaris the 7th, the Warriors of the Dropship enjoyed the fruits of victory, famed heroes of the Inner Sphere. They each returned to their own, scattered by success. However, the threats to the Inner Sphere were not ended. The UCS had been spread far and wide. Raids from the Periphery continued. The Inner Sphere grew darker as the shadows loomed...

Chapter One (Editor:  Let the insanity commence.)

Ravezero, smartly arrayed in the dress uniform befitting the Captain of the famed Dropship, walked along the corridor, keeping pace with his companion.
"So, like the new job, Akira?"
Akira laughed.
"I'd never imagined I'd been in the Otomo! It's been a long way since disenfranchisement."
"Don't I know it! Rick's a director of General Motors! Endo's a Field Marshal! And Medron's swanning about with the Captain-General!"
"Do they look alike to you?"
"Who, Medron and the Captain-General? I wouldn't say so."
The honours given by a grateful Inner Sphere were immense. Despite this, it was hard to stay in touch with each other. The Inner Sphere was a big place, and not all had stayed there. Probably bored. And then there was Mac. They had seen him apparently die, only for him to miraculously reappear. And just as mysteriously he disappeared once again. Is he alive?
Ravezero focused his thoughts on the upcoming honour. A tea service with the entire Kurita Clan. Truly a long way from disenfranchisment. His reverie was shattered as weapons fire burst into life. "The Coordinator!" yelled Akira as he dashed through the corridors.
They entered the garden as 'Mechs bounded away, leaving behind the bloddy remnants of the entire Kurita line.

Court officials, servants and bodyguards poured into the garden behind them.
"The Coordinators dead!" A servant screamed the obvious.
Ravezero moved about the garden as the crowd screamed, shouted and argued. As he did he stepped on something. It cracked and squelched beneath his feet. Silence prevailed.
Everyone stared at him as he lifted his foot. Beneath it was a small, very dead yellow bird. Shouting resumed.
"It's an omen!"
"He's to be Coordinator!"
"WHAT!" Ravezero lost all composure.
"It's true." A man spoke as he walked into the garden. "I am Smiling One - not THAT Smiling One!" he interjected as everyone started. "Though the officials wiil take a blood test, you must surely be a blood descendent of Shiro Kurita himself. That is for the future however. First you must prove yourself. You must develop strength, courage, integrity and wisdom. You must develop the ability to communicate in incomprehensible riddles in broken English You must be the pebble in the stream, and let the water flow over you. But foremost you must destroy these raiders and the threat they pose to the comibe. Only then will you be Heir to the Dugong."
Ravezero was taken back by events, but even he could detect something was seriously amiss.
"The Heir to the Dugong?"
The crowd shuffled their feet and even Akira looked embarassed.
"Er... Yes. The last Coordinator believed in the Star League, and believed the Dragon to be too predatory a beast to dwell in it's embrace. So... it was changed." replied Smiling One.
Ravezero noticed the banners for the first time. Instead of a dragon, the banners bore a sea cow.
"To demonstrate my wisdom, I will answer the question on your mind," continued Smiling One. "The answer is yes. The reforms were extended fully into the DCMS. The DCMS is no longer the claws of the Dragon, but rather the flippers of the Dugong."
Rave looked at the banner, and saw instead of a dragon's predatory gleam, the bovine, empty gaze of a sea cow.
"Oh Sh..."

By MacAttack Errr... Things are running beyond my control it would appear...

By CodeRed i just knew someone would do that....Mac, your still the original :)

By Scorpio i think we should just leave the plotline to Mac...

By MacAttack No, it is not a problem... I just have to wonder where it will all end.

By Brainburner With everyone being checked into a cracker factory.

By Joe Shmoe Maybe we could each write a chapter? I mean, just an idea.

By Scorpio yeah, i actually started on a story during study hall at school...managed to work coffee into it ;) but i never posted it. Didnt want to be viewed as a wannabe...but actually thats not a bad idea...

By 188th Barak Brigade You mean Robert N Charade, don't you?

By Owens

Hey, Joe, whaddah yah know? BBjr Lance 4ever!

Chapter Two

Room Bl23576-265g 36sr.
League General Accounting Office Headquarters Atreus
Free Worlds League.

A beautiful blonde dashed down a sandy beach, her tight bathing suit offering a breath taking view of her very curved body. Her arms opened, her lips drawing into a smile. Owens grinned as the woman of his dreams came barreling towards him. He opened his arms, waiting to recieve her. Suddenly, and loud ring smashed the scene.

Owens' eyes burst open as his chair fell backwards, slamming his head against the rear wall of his LGAO office, sending him crashing onto his back. Quickly scrambling to regain posture, he shuffled through the papers on his desk, focusing on the phrase, 'expected deficits.' Narrowing his eyes, he mentally pushed the throbbing pain in his head away long enough to struggle out the words, "Come in!"

The automated doors on the opposite side of the room slid open to reveal a small man drapped in blue robes.
The man began to enter, but stopped in the middle, turning instead to thank the technologically driven doors for opening, and wished them well on many opennings and closings in the future. The Lostech doors, however, were timed to close after 20 seconds, and crashed shut before the man had time to finish his muttering. Struggling out of the vise, the Wobblie began a garbled apology for interrupting Owens' important work.

Wobblies were such a sad group these days, Owens remarked. After Comstar booted them off of Terra, and the failure their subsequent attempted take over of the League, Captain-General Isis suggested that the Word of Blake quit the HPG industry and take up hotdog vending. Most of them agreed at gunpoint. Others however, were reduced to joining small travelling carnivals, were they were reeducated and now opperated rollercoasters with a Blakist furvor. Owens had met Rolie at such an amusement park, and had taken pity upon the man, offering him a job as a messanger boy. Rolie had accepted without a second thought.

"Mr...ah ...Owens, you've got some some visitors."

"Really, send him in." Owens responded dryly. Darn Nerdlinger! Couldn't he take his complaints some where else? 'a Battalion of mechs are missing,' 'Our account is short 100,000,000 c-bills,' The 2n FW Guards haven't recieved their supply of hip actuators.' "Good Lord." Owens sighed.

The sliding doors opened again....

"Hey there, Owens!" The voice was one of the few he would never forget.

BBjr, Joe Shmoe, and Uraikha walked through the door. Owens staggered. "Wow, guys I never thought I'd see you again!"

"Sup." Uraikha's deep voice echoed as he nodded slightly.

Joe Shmoe, nodded with a smirk.

BBjr smiled. "Yeah, well, after winning the Solaris championship for the 7th time in a row, I decided to call it quits. Yeah, there's a lot of money, but all seems the same after a while."

Anyway, after finding out that my dad let me start my own Solaris stable, my mom threw a fit, and kicked him off the planet. I intend to go looking for him. There are 8 other warriors in my stable so far, but if we rejoin the old lance, I'll have a full company to command. Interested?"

Owens quirked an eyebrow, thinking hard about it. On one hand, there was his duty to the League. He hadn't exactly supported Isis during the succession crisis, so another count of going AWOL wouldn't help out his loyalty rating. However, it was the BBjr Lance, so what the hell. And besides, it would really cheeze off Nerdlinger. Owens considered his words carefully, memories of the off the ol' goldfish reminded him of something that Tel Hazen had once said.

"Bargained well and done, BBjr."

By Medron Pryde Chapter 3

6 June, 3087 (I'm guessing on the year here guys)
Capital Building
Free World's League

"Well....looks like we lost Owens again," Medron Pryde says to the Captain-General. She shakes her head slowly.

"What this time?"

"A Warrior asked him to go to Solaris."

Isis sighs resignedly. "BB junior?"


"Looks like we'll have to find a new accountant then," she murmers and Medron nods. "So what is the status on our rebuilding efforts?"

Medron purses his lips and looks at his leader carefully. "Not as well as we had hoped, I'm afraid. The First and Second Knights of the Inner Sphere have been replenished with old-tech 'Mechs. And the Third Knights have finally received their full complement of land-air-Mechs, including some of the old Zero class LAMs. They were never very plentiful though, so we are making do with any LAM we can find. Finally, the Fourth Knights have been fully brought online with old-tech aerospace fighters."

He shuffles his feet uncomfortably. "Outside of the Knights though, I'm afraid that old-tech 'Mechs are still quite rare. Remember that all the major government spent 15 years getting rid of those 'Mechs in exchange for less expensive weaponry. It could take decades to rebuild to the power we had 50 years ago. Let alone 20 years ago. All commanders down to company-sized units have been issued old-tech 'Mechs, but the bulk of our armies are still the newer, less effective, machines."

Isis nods slowly before her frowning as a new thought comes to mind. "Where is Owen's pet Wobblie going?"

"Um...." Medron is caught off guard by the sudden shift in subjects. "I'm not sure."

"Ah....we might want to suggest to Owen that he go to Solaris as well. I can only take getting caught in the elevator because he has to thank it for operating so many times."

Medron laughs softly in agreement. "Yeah....I think we might. So how should I break it to him?"

"Well....we might think about telling the wobblie he's been promoted to a general and ask him to go blow up a power station," she says, grinning wickedly.

"Ah yes....then we could always send 'peacekeepers' to 'defend' Solaris," Medron comments, grinning right back at her.

"Maybe we should have the Third Knights on standby out there," the Captain-General suggests, leaning back in her throne regally.

"I shall make it so, my lady," Medron says, bowing. He turns and leaves the audience chamber, grinning heartily.

By Atticus Longwalker Please note the effort it is taking me not to take Isis and Medron and do soem really evil things to them with this whole relationship thing going. I could really do some interesting things with a transgendered Medron and his/her sister Isis in a "relationship".

By Medron Pryde Well Atticus....I would like to humbly request that you don't. Kids to frequent this board so we really need to keep this clean. (Medron pats himself on the back for finding a logical reason to ask everyone not to do that which he fears most)


By MacAttack A note on time...

Clams of Kerensky kicks in 3084 (in fact if starts somewhere about 2830, but that is another story...)

So HttD would slot in somewhere between CoK and WE...[so if you get into Hatted, your chances of surviving CoK looks good].

And I have to agree with Medron... Insanity is permissible, but profanity is another thing.

By MacAttack Opps spell-checker attack! Should be HttD, not Hatted!

By js I guess that means we'd all better write ourselves in quickly. (Rats, I have too much work to do at the moment to try my hand at fiction. *broad hint*)

By Medron Prydeok...change that year to 3082 then...;-)

It looks like BBjr will only have gotten championship 2 times then...unless he was moonlighting before the last story of course...hehehe

By nicholas_kerensky Nicholas gets out of his 'mech and picks up a blank data pad. He proceeds to the computer...

By David Richards

More chapters continue to be uncovered across the world.

Heir to the Dugong

4th Chapter

8th of June, 3082

Three sat in the small chamber that was the heart of the Combine. Three only. The Warlords had been dismissed since it was discovered that their skills lay in stress counselling, therapy and not much else.
Ravezero, ship captain and possible future coordinator, scowled as he stared at the symbol of the Combine. The fat sea mammal displayed seemed to represent everything that had gone wrong in the past few days.
Akira, now head of the Otomo, was speaking.
"I've sent messages out to the other Warriors, those we could find I mean. But I don't know if many will come. Chrome has sent word though. He's bringing the Dropship." Akira smiled at this piece of good news. "No Xenophobe though."
"Then how is the Dropship getting here?"
"Because it's being carried by one genuine Warship, newlr refitted with the Naval UCS."
Ravezero whistled in appreciation.
"Whose in command?"
Akira smirked. "You are, Admiral. The Star League has provided it and promoted you, in deference to your 'elevated' station."
Admiral Ravezero. It had a nice ring to it. Unlike Coordinator Ravezero. His thoughts turned sour again. The third individual present spoke up.
"Do not fear, Locust. You will prevail. You must be as the branches in the wind, and bend to them." Smiling One had, somehow, established himself as an advisor.
"Locust! I thought it was Grasshopper! And I thought that was Chinese!" Ravezero snorted in disgust. "What I'd give for Mac to be..."
"Speak of the..." Whispered Akira, as from out of the shadows a white-clad figure strode forward.
"Aye, it's me laddies. I'd heard you'd a wee bit of trouble?"
Akira and Ravezero were silent, stunned at Mac's reappearance. Unlike Smiling One.
"Ah, why are you clad in tablecloth?

On the darkened bridge, a shadowy figure watched the Comstar News Service with interest.
Confirmation of the utter extinction of the Kurita line was welcome. But what was this? His old enemy, Ravezero, declared Heir to the Dugong. Ravezero to head out into the cold periphery to wipe out the 'raiders'.
The figure smiled.
Revenge was a dish best served cold.

By js

It seems somebody named Robert N. Charade mailed me this. I’m not quite sure what to make of it. Maybe you guys can figure it out.

(Editor:  Chapter 5)

6 June 3087
Tuna City
Skeptuna, Broken Wheel Combat Region
Federated Suns

js sat idly in the sweltering heat of strip bar where he had been waiting for his contact for the last week. Pirate hunting had gotten quite boring in the past few years since pirates were about the only ones left who did not have the UCS. Oh well, it paid the bills as long as you could find a few pirates to disenfranchise. That was actually the hard part and the reason he was waiting in the bar. Fortunately, pirate hunting could also be quite profitable since pirates still used old-tech ‘Mechs - which could demand a premium price on the market in these days of rearmament.

He wished his contact has chosen a better strip bar. The “Three-breasted Canopian Wonder” had started to lose her third “breast” for the second time this show. It was actually quite amusing to see her trying to hold it in place while she went through her routine. He was actually looking forward to the next act - it was new and he was really bored. It was some women who called themselves Medrona and Isis and claimed to be sisters, although they did not look at all alike on the blurry picture on the poster.

The micro-communicator behind his left ear buzzed softly. js surreptitiously triggered the throat mike and answered the call. It was David Richards, his number 2 in the merc company. “js you’ve got to get back to the ship quickly, we’ve just received an urgent HPG message from RaveZero.”

Oh well, I guess the act with Medrona and Isis was just not meant to be, he thought as he stood up and headed towards the door.

js approached the New York, New York, his Union class DropShip on his skimmer. He still wondered after all these years whose idea it had been to paint it to look like a basketball, and even more, why he had agreed. Strangely, the paint job rarely needed a touch-up and always looked almost like a real basketball with legs and gun turrets.

He sped the skimmer up the ramp past the guard, an elderly former Clan elemental named Evantha, and into the main ‘Mech bay. He skidded to a stop just short of the ladder heading to the upper decks and right next to his heavily modified Falconer. He paused for a moment to admire the majesty of the war machine. After all these years it never ceased to inspire a sense of awe. He also noted that the techs had successfully put the hands back on after they had been damaged in the last battle. The hands had proved to be one of the trickiest of the modifications he had ordered. He silently thanked Rick Raisley for the technical expertise he had smuggled out of GM for the modifications for the hundredth time.

As js entered the tiny briefing room he idly scanned the members of his merc company. A few, like Richards, had been around since the days when the UCS had first been found. Others were newer additions. All in all they were a veteran crew although they did not have anybody of BB jr.’s quality. Oh well, few did, he mused to himself. He was proud of his people, although a bit ashamed of their shabby uniforms. I’ll have to get around to fixing that he reminded himself for the umpteenth time. Maybe we can paint the ‘Mechs while we’re at it, he thought.

“So, David, what’s up with the message from Rave? We haven’t heard from him in years!”

Richards was so eager to respond that js thought he might jump right out of his boots. Wow this must be big news, he thought. “He didn’t say much, but he wants us to hop it over to the Combine asap.”

“Is that all?”

“Umm, yes, actually it is,” Richards said with a bit of embarrassment.

“He didn’t say why or anything?”


He turned to Captain Blaubär, “How soon can we lift off?”

“As soon as I notify ground control,” he replied.

“Right, let’s get going. By the way, where are we headed in the Combine, anyway? Did Rave give us a destination? Do we have an ETA?”

David Richards piped up, “He said he would either rendezvous with us at Tancredi IV or he would leave a message for us if he can’t make it.”

“I thought you said we were heading into the Combine?” js queried. Tancredi IV would put them right on the Combine border. From there they could easily either head into the Combine or out into Outworlds Alliance space.

“We are,” Richards answered, “but he said we should go to Tancredi where he’ll pick us up or…”

“OK, all right already, I got you the first time,” js interrupted.

By Rapier

Chapter 4 (Editor:  Chapter 6)

July 8, 3087
Commander's Quarters, Fort MacAttack
Valexa, Federated Suns

"The 1st Federated Suns Assault RCT is officially operational," said Leftenant Colonel Brett Place. "With the Prince's additional funding, we achieved combat status months earlier than we had hoped. Oh, and Marshal, we just recieved word that Kali Liao has put all her troops on high alert to prepare for our Operation Gladius excercise next month."

Marshal William "Rapier" Kruger nodded his head. "Thank you, Colonel, you are dismissed." Lft. Col. Place nodded his head and turned to leave.

Rapier turned back to the window he had been staring out of before the Colonel had disturbed him. Outside, Able company of the First Battalion was fighting off a simulated attack against the massive Fort MacAttack. Rapier could hear the straining actuators as Captain William Lykens' JM7-F JagerMech sprinted after the retreating Caesar, firing a stream of simulated doorknobs.

"My God," Rapier breathed, "If we had these men during Operation Goldfish, so many of the Warriors of the Dropship would have lived." He thought back to the final assault against Stefan Amaris' New New Republic. Just before his Marauder III burst through the palace gates, Kenny Shaire's Locust had been gutted by enemy fire, killing the pilot. This was but one of the many horrors he had witnessed during that brutal campaign.

Suddenly, a knock rang out against his door. "Come." A commtech entered the room, with a small disk.

"Sir," the tech exclaimed, breathless, "we just got this in from AFFS High Command. It appears that the Coordinator's dead!"

Rapier was seized by a sudden chill, with the Coordinator dead, and no direct heir, he could only guess at the troubles the Draconis Combine would face. He accepted the disk from the tech, dismissed him, and inserted the disk into his holovid player.

It was RaveZero. He held his face in a grim expression. "Komban wa, Warriors of the Dropship. This message is Top Secret at this time, and not to be distributed in any way, under penalty of IP Ban. As you may have heard, the Coordinator of the Draconis Combine was killed last week, leaving behind no known heirs. The deed appeared to have been committed by the Capellan Confederation. We can only guess at Kali Liao's mental stability, so no retaliation has been planned at this time.

"Further, the Kuritans have decided that I am to be the new Coordinator of the Draconis Combine. As such, I am calling together the Warriors of the Dropship, in order to both investigate Kali's actions, and to defend other Successor Lords and the Rasalhague Bears Khans."

"Sayanora, and godspeed"

Rapier closed his eyes and exhaled heavily. Reaching to his intercom, he called for Lft. Colonel Place. "Yes, sir?" asked the officer when he arrived.

"Mobilize the troops, Brett."


"We're shipping out, tomorrow, and the Warriors of the Dropship need our help."

"Yes, sir," replied the still confused Brett Place as he left the quarters.

Rapier turned back to the window. "What ever happens this time, The Warriors of the Dropship will not be outgunned." Marshal Kruger than turned and prpared for departure.

By MacAttack Chapter 4? Again?

I think this is going to be tricky to coordinate...

Still, it is interesting to see what you people come up with while I put some planning into CoK (going to try and do a better job tis time round - though it will take longer to finish...)

Best of luck...

By Rapier Sorry about that, I guess mines Chapter 6 now, I guess Dave and js just beat me to it. Oh, well.

By Atticus Longwalker I hinted at a relationship and eveyone spoke up, the story takes place in part in a strip bar, and no one says a thing. Sheesh, I feel like a republican being covered by the NY Times.

By MacAttack Yes... but this is art.

Seriously, I think Atticus is correct, there are standards here Not many, or very high sometimes, but standards none-the-less.

Don't do something that could get the thread pulled, please.

It's kind of fun watching this being built on the foundation of ToG, whereever it ends up going...

By Owens

(Editor:  Chapter 7)

Victors Spaceport, Black Hills
Solaris VII, Freedom Theatre, Lyran Commonwealth

"Oh, my!" Exclaimed a rather startled Rolie as the holoviewer on the wall relayed the outcome of a battle. A Charger class battlemech doubled over as a UCS/quadruple-strenth myomer equiped Hatchetman slashed at it with a hatchet during a one-hundred kph pass. Cut in two at the waist, both halves of the Charger separated, and detonated in unison tenths of seconds later.
Nearby, a Black Dugong Wolf Trap lurched sideways as a Gauss-powered knob tore through its right elbow, its medium lasers blasting aimlessly into the air. The Hatchetman spun left 135 degrees to face the crippled Wolf Trap. While momentum carried it backwards, the Hatchetman let off a stream of Autocannon shells that drilled into the Kuritan 'mech's chest mounted LRM launcher. The crowd watched as the Combine fanatic vaulted into the air, his path outlined by the contrail of ejection seat exhaust. Holes torn into the hull of the Wolftrap let off an erie glow, followed quickly by a violent explosion that blasted the 'mech to smitherenes.

The Hatchetman stopped all movement, then raised its hatchet into the air, and was greeted by the unanimous cheers of "BBjr! BBjr! BBjr!" Overhead, the announcer proclaimed the victory of BBjr Lance of Burner stables.

"Such an irreverent waste of technology! How barbaric!" Rolie remarked. "Take this lighswitch. No one ever stops to consider its roll in human life, and its faithful service to humanity. Light goes on, light goes off. Forever and ever. This lightswitch has been here longer than many of us have, and will be here long after we are dead. How facinating it truely is...Light goes on, light goes off! Light goes on, light goes off!"

"Rolie?!?" the startling sound of someone calling his name nearly gave the ex-Word of Blake Adept a heart attack.

"Rolie, stop playing with the lightswitch," Owens yelled from across the hallway. "Wait a minute, Rolie, what on Earth are you doing here?"

"Um..well...I ah, was given orders by Captain-General Marik to destroy the powerstation," he began, "It appears I was thanking the dropship too long. By the time I was finished, I had already missed the connection."

"Rolie, until I say otherwize, don't pray anymore, okay?" Owens commanded, using his right arm to steer Rolie in the direction that the Warriors were moving in. "It'll make things easier on the whole lot of us."

BBjr, munching away on a BlakeBurger, nodded in silent agreement.

"Oh, yeah, Owens," he mumbled, having relaxed his manners since his father disappeared, "I'm sorry I exagerated. I've only won 2 Solaris Championships. But from my point of view, I've won so many other matches, it's like I've been here forever."

Owens smirked, "Well, don't worry about it. Exagerating is always fun."

Uraikha, the first one to enter the main arcade corridor of the spaceport, struck a fearsome pose by folding his arms and by contorting his face into a wicked sneer, casted undirected antipathy at the massive crowd of people. BBjr ducked to evade a group of journalists, saying "Great, the reporters. Who could possibly want some?"

Joe Shmoe stopped, being captivated by the sight of the infamous multifloored indoor extravaganza also known as the Solaran Starport Arcade. Shops of all sizes ran along the walls. Lights from hundreds of neon signs and the din of hundreds of conversations assaulted his senses.

He was taking it all in when a large object slammed into him, dead on. Falling onto his rear, Joe coughed, pulling the wind back into his lungs as he tried to spot his assailant. What he found was a young female adult, in as much of a daze from the impact as he was. Her brown-highlighted black hair was drawn towards the back of her head in a ponytail, with strands of her bangs rimming her face. Water beneath her eyes sparkled in the synthetic light of the megamall.

"I'm sorry for being in your way, miss. There's no need to cry." He panted, in a hurry to regain his breath. Crawling back onto his feet, he extended his hand to help her up, but the girl withdrew as if it was a venomous snake.

He couldn't think of anything else than to try again. "Listen, I'm not going to hurt you, please, let me help you up." She gave in after several moments of contemplation.

"Forgive me, I'm sorry," she said. "But they are after me, I must flee quickly."

"Who's after you?" The justice minded Joseph Shmoe couldn't fathom allowing a beautiful young girl be threatened.

"No one. I must go. NOW." She turned and took the first step in a dash, but Joe's hand caught her shoulder.

"Hey, I have a battlemech. And I have a lot of friends who have battlemechs. No matter who it is, I can protect you." Joe was dead serious.

The girl glanced around nervously, then let out a barely audible whisper. Her eyes darkened as they looked straight into his.

"My name is Liao Sumi Yin. Daughter of Kuan Yin Liao. I am the rightful air of the Capellan Confederation. The people after my life are the Thuggee assassins of my Aunt Kali. Are you sure you can protect me?"

Joe gulped, realising he'd just bit off more than he could chew. But he could never break his word.
"I promise I'll do my best."

"Joe, there you are! Look what we got!" The voice of BBjr shot over Sumi's head. Joe looked up, quickly finding his returning compatriot. In back of BBjr stood the two other Warriors, and two quite angry, now disposessed Black Dugong mechjocks.

"Its a summons from RaveZero. Appearently, he's a Coordinator or something, and hes gathering the Warriors. Something big's going down."

Joe looked down at the girl. She was only a few years younger than him, so he hoped she was up for what could very easily turn out to be a very dangerous ride.

By Pyro

Some guy named Robber N. Charade mailed this to me. Forgot what chapter it was, but he thinks it was 6.

(Editor:  Acutally, I was wrong. It is Chapter 8)

First Circuit Compound,
Hilton Head Island, Terra

"Enter", the warrior known as "Pyro" barked as another knock sounded at the door. A young female acolyte fumbled with a stack of computer data pads before reaching the right one.

"Ahh. Erika. Have you received word from the Sciences division about our Inferno LRM's yet? Are they ready for distribution?" She shook her head negative, leaving Pyro even more doubt. "Then what is it?"

"Well, Precentor-Martial, it appears you've received a message from the Draconis Combine... it's marked as eyes only." Pyro stared at the Acolyte some more. "You always read my mail... What does it say?"

The acolyte shifted nervously. "Ah... It was from RaveZero. He's been named Heir to the Dugong, and has requested your presence."

Precentor-Martial "Pyro" leaned back in his chair, trying to contain his emotions. A slim grin broke across his face, followed by outright laughter and a repeated hysterical shouting of the word "Dugong", which he never seemed to find end in the humor of. The fit only ended when his chair unbalanced and dumped him headfirst into a goldfish bowl, killing its occupant (The Almighty Bob). "Crap!"

Wiping the squishy remnants of his pet (formerly his replacement under Amaris the 7th's evil scheme) off of his robe, Pyro stood up. "Alright. Signal the Righteous Fire to hold position, and prepare the Holy Flame for immediate launch. And meet me at the spaceport with a BlakeBurger."

20 minutes later, the Precentor-Martial was standing in the mech bay of the Holy Flame, staring up at his new FLS-9O Flashman Omni while munching on a BlakeBurger. After rediscovering the superiority of the old-style mechs, ComStar had initiated a crash program to retool their factories to produce the new machines, as well as develop several new weapons systems. As Precentor-Martial, Pyro had been awarded the first of the new mechs. Which still, to his dissapointment, lacked one of the experimental Inferno LRM's that he had pushed for through his career as Precentor-Martial.

Acolyte III Erika again snuck up behind the Precentor Martial. "Sir, the Captain respectfully requests that you quit drooling over your new mech and take a seat so we can lift."

Disrupted from his trance, Pyro nodded. "Uh... Right."

The space flight was rather short. The CSW Righteous Fire awaited. Quickly refitted with the KFC drive after the success of the SLS Xenophobe, the Dante Mk. II class ship would have them at Luthien in mere minutes.

By Medron Pryde

Chapter 7 (0r will it be 8 by the time it gets posted?)

(Editor:  Chapter 9, actually.)
June 15, 3082
Capital Building
Free World's League

Medron Pryde sits before his computer station, not seeing the reports running across it. He rubs his eardrum, regenerated by Comstar 5 years ago so he could pilot a 'Mech again, carefully as he thinks about the summons. He can't go though. No matter how much he wants to, he could never ask Isis to let him go too. The League was his home now and he would stay here to defend it. Period.

"Interesting reading?" He jumps at the question voiced right behind him and looks over his shoulder at Isis.

"Ah, yes," he says, trying to get his breath back.

"So what did it say about the 12th Militia again?" He turns to look at the screen now showing information on the 14th Marik Militia and gulps. A hand reachs forward to backstep the information and she grabs it. "That's what I thought," she continues with a smile. "You should go."

"Go?" Medron trys to look confused, doubting it would fool her.

"Take the Third, 'The Knight's Own,' and her escorts," she says softly, shaking her head in amusement. "The rest of the Knights will look out for me and the League. I think I can get your cousin Ben to take your place. He's safely married so you don't have to worry." She rests a hand on Medron's shoulder and he gulps.

"How'd you know," he asks nervously.

"Owens received a summons and you've been acting like you have too. You're not a good enough actor to hide how much you want to go from me," she says in an admonishing tone, waving her finger in front of his eyes. "Now clear up your work and leave in the morning. That's an order."

Medron smiles as he watches her very shapely reflection walk away. Things could be worse he thinks and starts pecking away at the keys.


The next morning he walked out of his quarters to see Benjamin standing on the other side of the corridor. "You're up early," Medron grumps.

"The early eagle catches the fish," Ben quips, so cheerful he makes Medron want to punch him. "The Captain-General asked me to send you her best wishes," his cousin says over another grump. "She's meeting a Liao ambassador this morning and had to get ready. Don't worry, I'll be there," he says quickly as Medron glares at him. Ben raises his hands defensively and continues. "We don't trust the Liao's any more then you do. She's ordered a full security team, though with me there I don't know why she'd need them."

He smiles self-indulgently as Medron glares over at him again. "Don't let her get hurt," the elder Pryde says. "I went to WAY too much trouble saving her shapely butt two years ago to let her get fragged by some friggin' Liao now," he finishes, pointing his finger at Ben's nose.

"Hey man, I got it covered. I ain't gonna let ya down."

"See that you don't," Medron responds. "If she dies, I'll bring you back from the dead just to kill you myself."

Ben snorts at the half-joke. "Good luck, old man," he quips and walks away.

Medron shakes his head again and walks the other way towards the spaceport. It's way too early to be up, he thinks disgustedly.

Twenty hours later, the Thera class supercarrier 'The Knights Own' and her three Eagle class escorts 'Merlin,' 'Kai,' and 'Arthur' engage their KFC drives and leave Atreus behind with Medron, the Third Knights of the Inner Sphere, and other supporting elements.

By Owens

I know the stuff I find is rather below par, compared to the greats like Mac, but it's fun, and I can't sleep. So I hacked into Charade's files... Keep in mind that, as usual, it is pretty long..

(Editor:  Chapter 10)

Uninhabited system XO13285572, Nadir Jump Point
Comstar Control Zone

Joseph Shmoe regretted hopping the first ship out of the Solaris system. Unfortunately for the Junior & Co. Battlemech group, the first jumpship had not been upgraded with a KFC drive, depending instead on a old school Kearny-Fuchida drive. The trip to the Combine capital of Luthien was taking weeks.

But Joe wasn't completely regret full. The more time he spent with Sumi, the better. In fact, he was beginning to feel like he had a crush on the girl. It had all started when the Martiguez born Owens had mentioned that Joe had found 'A good lookin' Mamasita.' Ever since then, Joe had been captivated by her. She didn't speak much, she was all to often huddling herself in the corner staring blankly. So Joe decided once again to try and break the ice.

"So, have any hobbies? Cooking? Collecting miniatures?"

She looked at him, her brown eyes not revealing any warmth what so ever. "Spending most of my life running from the Thuggees and the Mask has taught me many things about death. I know how to kill a man with a pencil..."

"Uhh, that's..interesting..well..um, feel like getting some food from the galley?"

"Sure. I am getting hungry. When do we get to Luthien?"

"Well, it should be in about three..." Warning klaxons suddenly blared. Their ability to fill the room with noise was astonishing, to say the least.

Grabbing his Nakjama pistol out of the holster, Joe ran to the door. It opened to reveal a very fast movie Brainburner Junior running down the hall, telling everyone to get to the mech bay. Following close behind were his ever present bodyguards, Owens and Uraikha. Bobbling along to the rear was Owens' 'pet' Wobblie, Rolie. The 'Seven Brothers and Their One Sister,' the nickname for the warriors of Junior's mech stable, quickly scrambled as well.

Joe and Sumi were the last to arrive in the bay. The Mechs were being unloaded, a process that took what seemed to be hours even under the most relaxed circumstances.

Joe had Sumi by the hand when the large doors through which they had just entered opened once again.

And out poured a large group of men, armed to the teeth with flamer pistols.

Out gunned even for the BBjr Lance, the Company was forced to lower their weapons. The largest member of the new arrivals, with a scruffy beard, an eye patch and crossed bandoliers stepped forwards.

"My name is BlueJak Ruin, the Pirate King of Butt Hold," he began, "Some one is putting up big money to have you guys whacked." Jak pulled a cigarette from a pack from a pocket on his decrepit Lyran field jacket. He then lit it with his personal flammer. Scanning the room, he quickly spotted Sumi.

"That's her," he bellowed as he pointed a stubby finger in her direction. "Nab her and toast the rest." A squad of pirates moved across the room to bring her into custody.

"Ready...." Jak said with a grin

Owens became quite frantic. He had stared death in the face with during the Goldfish campaign with the Warriors, but never before at the hands of a firing squad. "Quick..somebody..swear alot, make a personal attack, bash someone's religion.. discuss politics..get the thread deleted before they..."

"No, I have a better idea," interupted BBjr "Uraikha, lob a screwdriver at that fire extinguisher! If you hit it, the water will prevent their guns from...


Rolie interupted Jak who had interrupted Junior, "No, wait, I have and even better idea.." Rolie the Wobblie began chanting a very fast prayer.

"FIRE!" Screamed Jak, who had a very sadistic grin on his face as he said it.

The guns clicked as if they were unloaded.

"What?!?!" Jak roared.

"Yeah, Rolie, what did you do?" Inquired Owens.

Rolie had a smug grin on his face. "I preemptively thanked the guns for not working!"

A menacing pirate with an 'X' tatooed between his eyebrows stepped forward. He began a slow mantra of his own, his eyes gleaming with unholy light. For a breif second, his opened shirt revealed a large scar above the right side of his chest.

"It's a Thuggee cultist you fools!" proclaimed Sumi, "He'll kill you all with his black magiks!"

"Not if I have anything to say about it!" Screamed Uraikha, "Reality Check! Battletech is REALITY based fiction, not FANTASY based!"

The pirate game him a puzzled stare.

Uriakha then continued, "Reality based SF utilizes known scientific fact. While jumpships might push the limits of acceptable science, the idea is to have the stories be explainable from a scientific standpoint. Your magiks, therefore, can't work, since it isn't explainable that way. Aren't you all glad I keep up with the DS web boards?"

The Thuggee stopped, speaking with an unnerving, yet whinny voice, "But the Wobblie's spell worked, why can't mine??"

No one ever answered the question as Brainburner Junior dropped the Thug with his laser. He had used the duration of the conversation to pick up his trusty sidearm.

An infuriated Jak shouted even louder than before "Get them!!!"

Joe leaped to the defence of Sumi, but was stopped by multiple other pirates that blocked his path.

"NO! SUMI!" He screamed, as if that alone would bring her back.

"Thanks for nothing, Joe!" She shouted back, as the pirates dragged her out of the bay.

Angered by the slight against his unit, BBjr readied himself for a fight.


By archmore

well here my feeble attempt

Chapter ???????

(Editor: Chapter 11)

June 25 3082

"Yo Arch!" Said Bo as he walked into the office (remembering to duck this time). You got a message from some guy in the Draconis Combine."
"Who?" said Archmore as he reached for the disk Bo was holding out.
"Some guy ..Zero or something like that."
"Ok thanks."
After viewing the disk Archmore sat staring at the disk rubbing his left shoulder....after 2 years it still hurt after being mangled. Flipping the intercom on... "Bridge." "Mark issue a recall to all personal and notify the Bowman to prepare to leave the system."
"Sure what's up?"
"As soon as all the Lance commanders get on board have them report to the briefing room .. that means you too."
An hour later Archmore entered the Briefing room where his Lance Commanders were waiting for him.
"All right everyone what's our status?" He asked while sitting down.
Mark Cantu stood up and said "The Guardian is loaded and ready to lift off any time you want. The Bowman is retracting her sail...she has a full charge in her batteries. But I am still worried about the Jump engines,the Xenophobe type engine have never been used on a jumpship before."
"Don't worry they will work just fine. Kelly what's our mechs looking like?"Archmore asked looking at the beautiful mechwarrior sitting next to him, as always his gaze going to her rather large bustline.
Kelly smile noticing the direction of his gaze and said " Well my Marshal and Bo's Longbow have been ready to go for a week now. The final loading of Robin's Viking was completed yesterday. That problem with your Archer's Gyro fixed itself about an hour ago so we are good to go."
Fixed itself? Thought Archmore. About an hour ago? Weird.
"Breama what's our vehicle status?" He asked the short blond sitting across from him.
"We managed to get a Heavy LRM Carrier, a Alacorn, a LRM carrier, and a Savannah Master operational." She said while looking at a notepad.
"Good. Robert what our infantry status?"
The bald man said " Well I got 16 men for the Battle suit but I go 20 suit of Battle Armor. We got a squad of Kanizuchi, a squad of the Grey Death Legions Scout armor, a squad of regular armor ,a squad of Longinus armor, 2 Elemental suits, a Salamander, and a Undine suit, but I have no one that can use the Clan Battle Armor."
"That a lot better then I had hoped for. Richard what's the status on the fighters?"
Richard Wolf the newest member of the Arrows Guard stood up and said " Both my Jagatai and Brians Corsair are fully operational and ready to go."
"Good. I just got a signal from an old buddy of mine asking for some help. I decided to help him out so we are heading for the Draconis Combine. That's all folks. Mark we can lift off as soon as you get permission."
As the others began to leave the briefing room Archmore called Richard Wolf back.
"Richard, with the disappearance of the Dragoons do you think that they might be involved in the attacks in the Periphery? And are you going to be ok with fighting your kin if that is who they are?"
Richard thought for a moment and shook his head "I don't think that this would be something that they would do. But if it is then I will have no problems fighting them."
Archmore looked at Richard for a moment and said "Thank you that will be all."
3 days later the Yankee class dropship docked with the Starwarp class jumpship Bowman.
2 hours later the Bowman made its maiden jump on its way to the Draconis Combine.

there was more that I wanted to add but its late here and I decided to shorten it.

By Medron PrydeDo Fokker and Syphon want to be in the Third Knights? I'm guessing FF wants to go back to his precious Viper Pit....;-)

That way we could keep the LAM team together...hehehe. Anyone else want to fly LAMs? I think we get the Stinger LAMs to fire mini-doorknobs out of the machine guns....hehehe

By nicholas_kerensky Some people are clever... just do not post the chapter number.

By Medron Pryde Yeah....I came to that conclusion too.....;-)

By js There is another solution. Just write it on your word processor, cut it out and paste it in. Then you can make any changes that may be necessary, like a chapter number...

By Eastwood Alexander

Another Mosaic Chapter for the Heir to the Dugong…

(Editor:  The Blessed Order believes that this is Chapter 12)

Capital City, Ineedabayu
May 23, 3082

Eastwood Alexander was throttled to the side in his MBHT (Main Battle Hover Tank) from the multiple explosions ingulfing his vehicle. The enemy had been engaged and mere seconds later he was overwhelmed with the feeling that the battle was already lost.

It had been just under two years since Eastwood moved back to the Periphery at his Home Planet’s request. Like many of the survivors of the “Trials of the Goldfish”TM, he had received some celebrity status as a conquering hero, albeit a minor one. He had felt very lucky to have survived the final battle, even though he was shot out from his mech, for a third time. Unfortunately, all three times resulted due to the destruction of his mech. First was the Star League era, Clint, though it was in dire need of spare parts, hobbled more than cruised, it’s destruction in the early days of the bogus “Star Lord’s” attempt at claiming power over the whole Inner Sphere, was a turning point for the veteran mech pilot. From there he threw his support to the chivalrous Pryde and the enigmatic Scotsman, Mac in their successful attempt at deflecting the “Star Lord’s” violent statement of declaration for power. Running Recon for the Warriors of the Dropship was exhilarating and quite a challenge, but he was also thankful that they had provided him with a mech to do that. He felt that he played strong supporting role, right up to the final battle when his battered and ammo-depleted Valkryie was assaulted into submission. Yes, he felt he was lucky, he survived, but his mech didn’t.

Medron and company offered to replace his mech but Eastwood thought that three strikes against him as a mech pilot was enough (even though he officially did not recognize having a Charger taken out from under him by “long haired midgets with no teeth” using nothing but hemp rope and cut lumber and gravity. Besides, it was a Charger). When the offer came from his Home Planet of Ineedabayu to “coordinate and upgrade” the Planet Defender Guardmans, he felt obliged to try to continue doing the respectful and dare he say it, “righteous” work. Too many years as a mercenary, employed by less than savory companies had soured his outlook on life.

When he arrived to take up his post, he was surprised that it did not include a commission. He wasn’t expecting a land grant or a general-ship when he returned home like some of his fellow “Goldfish” survivors were bragging about, yet neither was he expecting to being referred as a civilian “advisor”, recruiting mainly for the “local boy” celebrity status. Still, he was enlightened when they did take most of his suggestions to heart and concentrate on building vehicles, mainly hover tanks vice the much more expensive Battlemechs. Ineedabayu had a fairly sizable amount of natural resources, just not the commerce to ship them off planet.

To satisfy Capital City’s request of an upgraded defense to repulse all forms of piracy and raids, he suggested to sell to two companies of existing mechs and replace them with the MBHT, RSLHT (Recon/Striker Light Hover Tank) and FSHT (Fire Support Hover Tank), increasing the TOE to three battalions. A company of Yellowjacket Gunships were also procured. The hover tanks could be produced locally on planet, with a large surplus of parts, weapons and stores as well, including the Gauss Rifle and slugs for the MBHT and Yellowjacket.

Though he was not commissioned in with the Guardsmen, he did continually train with them as the official trainer because the one thing he did ask for from the Warriors of the Dropship was the UCS, which were put in the conventional vehicles, enabling them to be operated by a single pilot. Maybe it was no longer having to fear about the “falling, and I can’t get up” syndrome, because Eastwood came to be a terror on the training field. Many young and cocky HT pilots came to dread his presence on the field of fire.

Everything was running mostly smoothly and Eastwood was happy with his life, then that which always caused the most anxiety actually happened. Late the night of the May 15th, a large flotilla of Jumpships and possible “Warships” was detected arriving in system. A week later dropships landed on the main continent of Floydon and the enemy army was marching on to Capital City. All available Guardsman’s were dispatched to intervene for the planets defense. All three Defenders Battalions, the Yellowjacket Support Force, the Demi-Battlalion Training Group as well. Facing an army with the appearance of a true Regimental Combat Team strength. Death was in the air yet, none balked at their duties, some because no one else was running even though they were scared, others because they were to arrogant to recognize reality and some, like Eastwood, because it was their responsibility.

They met at the Bruce Glade Valley in the early afternoon on the 23rd. Eastwood figured that the generals on both side would wait, possibly an hour, maybe to dusk, even to dawn. Not five minutes had passed when the enemy fired it’s first volley. The Defenders had yet to finish maneuvering into position and concentrated fire had destroyed all but one vehicle of the 1st Company of the 1st Battalion. Did they have the UCS? How were they hitting at that range with such a high degree of success? One of the capabilities of the UCS was that it allowed the vehicle pilots to know what was going on with the rest of their brothers in arms. This proved to be a problem with the DBTG (Demi-Battalion Training Group), who quickly began to panic. Eastwood recognized this and promptly gave his only “suggestion” of the battle to the Guardsman Commander, General R. N. Detzel. “Sir, they have engaged and you might want to think about getting a running battle going, most of your forces are HT’s and that is their strength. I am going to take the DBTG and try to flank them. Eastwood out.”
It took precious moments for Eastwood to get most of the DBTG to form up on him, yet from there it was only seconds before they were engaged with the enemy, mostly thanks to the long range of the Gauss Rifle and the speed of the MBHT.
“1st Training Battalion”, who had moved the farthest away from the battle line in their eager exodus, “continue your wide arcing movement, when you get to sector X: 126, Y: 53, you should be able to engage our targets from the flank.”
“Remember to keep your speed up and maintain your distance.”
“2nd Training Battalion, form on me, we are going to cut between the rolling hills of sector X: 123, Y: 52, to engage the right flank of the enemy. Remember, this moving battle, keep your distance and maintain your speed. Lack of speed equals death out here boys and girls. Who wants to die?”
“Once we are engaged, work your way towards sector X: 125, Y: 53, there 1st Training Battalion will engage with us.”

For Eastwood and 2nd TB, things started off just as he had adhoc’d it. Moving through the rolling hills into the Bruce Glade Valley, they were able to acquire multiple targets on the enemies right flank. Mechs of various shapes and sizes, Mechs that his targeting computer could not identify… Arbitrarily, he selected a Heavy Class Mech and fired long range shot at which he thought was the “head” of the mech and containing the cockpit, whether by luck or skill, the gauss slug hit exactly where he was aiming with spectacular effects. The enemy Mech’s head crumpled inward in the front and viciously blew out the back. Yet, the Mech continued to come. Continued to fire… All around him MBHT’s and RSLHT’s were being destroyed, especially those who ventured into what he thought of as “the middle ground” or “no-man’s land”.
“We are almost there, he thought, once we get to sector Y:53 and 1st TB engages we should out number them almost 3 to 1. Surely are combined fire will were them down…”

That same Heavy Mech took a gauss slug to the right leg with negible effect. Seconds later the Heavy was out of his firing arc. He then selected what appeared to be a Light Class Mech. This time he aimed at the Light Mech’s left leg and scored a direct hit, jerking the mech violently while ripping out vital support structures of the leg, making it whip erratically away from the hip of the Light Mech. Yet the Light Mech continued on and did not fall!

”What the Fluck Chuck”? Why didn’t it fall? Damnit, what is going on here?, he thought angrily to himself.

That would be the last coherent thing he would think prior to his death. While he was busy corralling the two Training Battalions, the enemy with their superior numbers and superiors Mechs, were systematically wiping out each company of the Planet Defender Guardsman. 1st Training Battalion had heeded Eastwoods orders and instructions and did start to move towards sector X: 126, Y: 53. They did not continue there for long though, because the UCS showed them what was happening to the fully trained Battalions. They promptly broke again running flank speed towards Capital City. They would survive the longest of all of the Guardsmen.

After blowing off the leg of the Light Mech, Eastwood promptly became “Target-X”. His high speed of movement and constant jinking left, right, to and fro, did nothing to save him from the withering amount of firepower aimed at him. In mere seconds, all traces of him and his MBHT’s existence simply vanished off the face of Ineedabayu, to be replaced by charred metal, popping oxygen and slagged plastics…

1st TB lasted only thirty seven more minutes, on the outskirts of Capital City, a second enemy army, busy ransacking the small peripheral city, almost lackadaisically took notice of them and permanently ceased their running…

(Scribblers notes: I figured somebody needed to die, to help with the cause of the Good Guytm, so I volunteered my own persona. Additionally, I opted for vehicles vice mechs, to reflect the “poorness” of the Periphery and allowed them to be promptly “walked all over” by the enemy and their “superior” mechs. Sorry about the length and lack of humor (to my knowledge I only put in two “yokes”. )

By MacAttack Death is only the beginning...

I know...

Been there...
Done that...
Got the tee-shirt (Good-Guy(TM) of course)

By Yeach To MacAttack on a totally different subject;

Mechcommander2 has this new mechwarrior named Claymore.

Scottish too (well its one of dem strange english dialects)

Hard to understand what he says in battle though.

By Miguel

Next Chapter.

(Editor:  Chapter 13, according to my secretary. *STAMP*  Cut it out!)
1 July 3082
Chancellor´s Summer Palace, Sian.

Miguel shudered when the myomer-augmented Death
Commando opened the door to the Chancellor´s bedroom. He was not a happy man returning home after the ToG affair he had retired to his small state in Hexare fearing the Chancellor´s retribution for helping the Warriors against the Chancellor´s decrees. Nothing happened save for an increase of the Mask surveillance in Hexare.

Then two weeks ago a dropship had landed on top of his favourite cabin, ruining his ´mech miniatures and all the photos of his companions at the WotD, even the one of Medron wearing the CAF helmet. A squad of Fu Man Chu clad troopers descended from it and arrested Miguel in the name of the Chancellor. After two weeks in a small cell inside the dropship a Death Commando entered with his old CAF uniform and told Miguel to dress for his audience with the Chancellor.

As a veteran mechwarrior Miguel didn´t fear death in itself, but under Kali´s reign, Death could come very slowly. "Please let it come quick" he tought "I hope it´s something simple like the traditional stab or the brainmelting machine... everything but the Cartoon!"

The Death Commando ushered Miguel into the chamber, bowed to the persons inside and left the room closingt he door after him.

Miguel took a few seconds to adjust his sight to the dimly lit room, then he walked proudly to the center right in front of the bed. "For all the gods ancient and new! Not a Pijama party again" he whispered scared to the bone because inside the bed were the Chancellor Kali Liao, the Maskirovka Directress and the new Mistress of the Warrior Houses the terrible Ophrah. The three women on the bed left girls magazines they were reading and stared Miguel with hate filled eyes.

"You´ve been called because your former treachery" purred the Chancellor while the other two women noded in an evil way. "But the Godness has sent me an omen. In my dreams I saw you walking over the IS courts awash in the blood of our enemies."

"But Celestial Light, I am but one and our enemies are legion. Also I lost my mech years ago and expelled from the CAF for my sins against you."

"Fear not, my minion because the Godness has given me the ULTIMATE MECH! with my machine of destruction you must sunder the IS. Then House Liao will reign undisputed! BUAHAWHAWHAWHAW!"

Miguel fell to his knees shoked, this was madness unbound, and gazing the three women he saw the same madness.

"The Confederation is lost" he thought "I must bring Sun Tzu back, I must clone him, I´ll get to the Warriors, they´ll help finding Tel Hazen and his Aidanatic Cloning Machine. I´ll help him overthrow his mad sister and then restore the Confederation"

"Rise my champion" screamed Kali "Take your new mech, take the Ubber Urbie Supreme and kill them all in the name of the Liaos!"

After the door close and an ashen faced Miguel was take to his new mech Kali left the bed, walked to the acuarium set on a dark corner of the room and spoke softly to its inhabitant. "Soon my brother you´ll be restored, the pawn has left and opposing me he´ll fulfill our plans, soon we´ll rule over a strong Confederation once more"

Returning to the bed she called her subordinates "I don´t think that Jason Grump must start the Inmortal Warrior CCCXXXIII, he is to skiny don´t you agree with me?"

Inside the acuarium a fighting fish contemplated the world with intelligent and evil eyes.

By Atticus Longwalker I have some requests:

1. If you are going to write the story, please do not use parenthesis. It is a story; tell it as such, even if it seems a bit flowery.

2. If you are going to post a chapter, write it out in your word processor first and DO A SPELL CHECK!

3. If you do not wish to use BattleMech but rather 'Mech, then please spell it that way a ' at the beginning and then a capital M.

Minor things? Maybe, but which is easier and more enjoyable to read, something written correctly or something where you are trying to figure out what word the author was trying to use?

By David Richards

Charade continues to amze us with his scattergun approach to distribution...

Heir to the Dugong

Chapter 14
(Editor: This one is dangerous. Acolyte, call Precentor-ROM.  No, don't type that!)

Luthien orbit,
7th of July, 3082

"Shuttle One, you are cleared to approach."
Ravezero sat back in his seat. After some weeks of inactivity, the Dropship had arrived. And many of the Warriors were making their way to the rendezvous point. But not all had gone to plan...
"Any further news on who tampered with our communications?" he asked Akira.
Akira grimaced "None. We're lucky the 1st Fed Suns Assualt didn't go there and then to smash Sian. Passing the blame onto Kali Liao... someone didn't want us to have assistance. Someone is obviously familiar with our protocols. I just hope that is the last faked message..." Akira broke off as the shuttle banked, revealing the warship.
"Aye, she's a beautie!" Mac whispered.
Warships had been rare before the disenfranchisement. Since then pratically extinct. This was the first of a new breed.
"That she is, Mac, that she is." Ravezero turned to pilot Diranged. "Take us round her before you dock."
"Aye aye sir!"
The shuttle sweeped in across the stern and glided past the port side. It was as they turned around the bow that they made a discovery.
"That is ah unusual name for fighting ship" commented Smiling One.

The shuttle doors opened, admitting them entrance to the vessel. There to greet them were the crew, led by newly promoted Captain Chrome. It was a skeleton crew for a ship this size, and every Warrior who happened to be aboard had to do his part. Ravezero recognized many of the crew, including Slacker, resplendent in the red-shirted uniform of a security guard.
A crewman whistled a salute, the crew saluted and stood at attention. Chrome walked forwards.
"At ease." he ordered before turning his attention to Ravezero and his entourage. "It's nice to see you sir." How quickly everyone was taking to Ravezero's new rank. He returned the 'favour'.
"And you Captain. Tell me, was this warship christened with the name 'Illicit Enterprise'?" he inquired.
"Er... no sir." Chrome reddened, before adding "It's a long story."
"Do I want to know it?"
"Probably not, Sir."
Ravezero sighed. " Very well, let's get on with it."

"Admiral on deck!" bellowed crewman Vano, as Ravezero and his party entered the bridge.
"Are we prepared to leave?" He asked Chrome.
"Absolutely sir. We have a course of jumps to take us to Tancredi already plotted."
"Very well then, let us proceed."
Chrome began barking orders, as crewmen began tapping into their controls. Preparations to jump were made swiftly. Chrome made the final count.
"Jump in 5.. 4.. 3.. 2.. 1.. Jump!"
Nothing happened.
"Either that's the smoothest jump I've ever had the fortune to experience, or we didn't go anywhere!" muttered Mac.
Ravezero looked at Chrome, who looked increasingly flustered.
"It be the drive room again, Sir. They..."
Ravezero cut him off. "Chrome, Akira, Mac, follow me."

They entered the drive room to encounter bedlam. Crewmen were yelling at each other.
"What is going ON!" shouted an exasperated Ravezero.
"Sir, since we're on a skeleton crew, we've been having to use Warriors as crew. And, er... they've been arguing over how the Jump engines work."
They heard a few comments over the raucous engine room.
"When the drive is activated, we go through Hyperspace..."
"Hyperspace! No! We make a Quantum jump..."
"No! We create a small wormhole..."
Mac had enough.
"Shut up you fools!" he shouted. "It doo not matter how it works. You just pull the lever over there." He yelled pointing at the corner, where sure enough was a large red lever.
Ravezero made a decision.
"Mac, you appear to have things under control. You're Chief Engineer."
"Is this sum kind of Cultural Stereotype?" he asked in the drunken dialect often heard in Glasgow.
"No." replied Ravezero, acting innocent as he vainly hoped Mac wouldn't notice the Author's slur.
"Well, OK then," replied Mac. "But I know just who to blame for this..."
A few minutes later, the 'Illicit Enterprise' jumped outsystem.

Meanwhile in the periphery...

The researcher was stunned. How could he do this to her! She began recording a message for transmission.
"Admiral. Ravezero. Why are you taking the Starfish project away from me. You cant do this..."

By Pyro

Chapter 15 (Editor:  Written by me, of course.  Yes, I know it is a shameless plug.)
Miami, Terra
BlakeBurger Corporate HQ

A robed figure entered the long, almost cathedral-like structure, ignoring the armored guards completely as it stalked towards its destination. Taking a left at one wing of the large building, the figure entered the chamber quietly. Very little light shone into the room, except behind the seat at the dais, where a large circular stained-glass window depicting Jerome Blake was located.

A pale, gaunt hand reached out into plain view from the back-turned chair on the dais. "Come, my child." How the Primus always managed to sense the presence of someone at the door with his back turned never ceased to amaze the robed figure.

The Primus looked up from the small camera inbedded in the arm of his chair and grinned evilly. Such simple tech to fool the simple minded. Reaching out, he pressed the small button to rotate his chair. The chair responded, accelerating around in a half circle... and continued moving and accelerating. The chair spun rapidly around several times, forcing a startled "WhoaaaWHOAAHHWhooaah!" out of the Primus before the malfunctioning chair's momemtnum finally catapulted him into one of the fountains adorning his private chambers.

"Crap. Can these idiots never get it right? All I want is a chair that rotates!"

The robed figure turned to the fountain, bowed, and removed her hood. "Primus, our evil schemes are nearing completion. There has been some trouble obtaining enough quantity of the components you desired, but we are quickly approaching the levels we need."

The Primus wrung out his robe as much as he possibly could without pulling back his hood and revealing his (cue dramatic music) secret identity, and nodded. "Everything is going as I have foreseen. With the rising popularity of BlakeBurger, we will, before very much longer, be in the perfect position to further Blake's vision. In very little time indeed, all of humanity will know the glory of a revived Word of BlakeBurger. *Cough* Ehm. Word of Blake!"

The female Precentor smiled, annoying the Primus further.

The Primus turned back towards the window as a sort of hunger started to consume him. "Now go, child. Leave me to my visions. And come back in one hour's time with a dry robe."

The Precentor stalked off dutifully. Impatiently, the Primus waited until she was far out of view before pulling the pipe out of his chair's secret compartment. An herbal smell filled the room as quickly as new visions appeared to the Primus of BlakeBurger.


Tancredi, Zenith Jump Point

Pyro excused the comms officer, sat down, and put on the headset. "Righteous Fire to Illicit Enterprise, this is Pyro, reporting as requested. What's up with this whole *snicker* Heir to the Dugong thing? And why have you requested our presence? Please respond, over."

By Owens Well, thanks Atticus, just go and ruin all the fun. :)

Why is it important to use the Word processor? And what's the deal with the word BattleMech. I mean, you don't capitalize the T in tank, or the H in helicopter gunship, so why in 'Mech?

How does one import word processor pages anyway?

By Owens

Well, until I learn to use computers to their full potential, this will just have to do. Sorry Atti. But if you actually are going to take the time to read it all, I'll try to stick to the other points


(Editor:  Chapter 16)

Uninhabited system XO13285572, Nadir Jump Point
Comstar Control Zone.

The fighting was fierce, but the in the end, the Company won the battle. BlueJak fled the scene with and escort moments after the fighting broke out. Fire support in the form of flying metal objects, be they screwdrivers, crowbars or wrenches rose from the 'Seven Brothers and Their One Sister,' which wore down the cutlass pirates, preventing them from seizing the initiative. The old lance formed up into the Flying Wedge of Doom, a tactic forged in the heat of battle, with BBjr at the front, Owens and Uraikha on the sides and Joe Shmoe in the middle for close range screwdriver pelting.

The pirates, on the other hand, in spite of their superior numbers, never managed to organize properly, relying mostly on their old training by chanting "When in fear or in doubt, run in circles, scream and shout." The furious hand to hand melee stretched into fifteen long minutes. However, after that quarter of an hour, the pirates lay defeated, earrings, peglegs and hook hands torn out or smashed along side them.

The Good Guys charged to the bridge of the converted Confederate Class dropship, meeting the command crew which sat in stunned silence.

The captain was the first one to speak. "You guys survived? We thought you were dead!"

"No one can stop us," BBjr rubbed his knuckles, which had been bruised severely from the fighting. "Where is that dropship going?" Junior pointed to the Leopard dropship that which appeared to become smaller with every passing second.

"Well, it looks like its heading back out to its jumpship," the pilot guessed.

"Follow it. Don't let it escape."

"Right O, chuck," the pilot said as the Confederate Merchant dropship disconnected from the hull of the jumpship.

In the time that followed, the chase seemed to stretch on forever, as the range was too great for effectual weapons fire. Both ships were traveling at the same speed, neither on or losing the other.

The pirate ship slowed to dock with the mother ship, allowing the Companies commandeered dropship time to catch up.

As soon as the leopard was safely stowed, the Kearny-Fuchida drive began to power up.


"Kolodenko, you have to back me on this one..."

In a nutshell, Jak Ruin was furious. Having to call off the ill fated boarding attempt on the Warrior Dropship, not to mention leaving behind some of his most loyal men, finding this bimbo for the Thugs was turning out to be a misadventure. Now Kolodenko, his primary economic in the Comstar Control Zone, was wussing out.

He patted his beard and continued "Yeah, I know that the attack on the Warrior dropship was the Thugs idea, not yours, but still, I have the girl, and that's all we really need to retire like kings. All I need is a little extra armed support. I have nearly a battalion of salvaged mechs left over from the disenfranchisement, but I'm going to need more help.

A messenger entered the room, reporting only that it would be 30 seconds until jump. Returning his gaze to the portable HPG system, he watched as Ivan Kolodenko of Tikonov responded.

"Niet, comrade. I have spent too much Rubbles on zis project already to watch you bring me down. Handle zis yourself."

"Even if I contribute all the forces on Butt Hold I might achieve victory, but the result would bankrupt me. If I get destroyed financially, gods protect me, I'll go to the tabloids with our relationship!"

Kolodenko began to sneer. He did not like having his arm twisted. "Da, comrade. You haggle like American pig. I will deploy de first und second Free Repulican Guards."

"Thank you, Ivan. I knew you cared." Jak's phoney smile dropped as soon as he cut the connection to Tikonov. The up and comer in the race for Tikonov independence wouldn't be let off easy this time.

"Commander, jumping in 10 seconds," the underling said again. Jak relaxed, leaning back against the command chair of the dropship. Jumping always took so much out of him, he needed to ease his body and mind.

Less than 10 seconds later, the swirling energies cascaded through his body as he, the dropship, jumpship and all the crew members were catapulted light years in a single moment.

By Atticus Longwalker BattleMech is a proper name and a registered trademark :-)

As to importing, its called copy (or cut) and paste.

By Medron Pryde

(OOC I'm going to assume that Fokker and Syphon have stayed in the LAM force....if they want out..well....oops...hehehe)

(Editor:  Chapter 17, In accordance with the prophecy.)

9 July, 3082
Nadir Jump point

Medron Pryde stretches out in the observation lounge, looking at a holograph of Hsien and remembering the part it played in his family history. His cousins had spent some time in this area, and though this was Medron's first visit to the system, he almost feels at home. The door opens behind him and he turns to see Fokker and Syphon, his two battalion commanders, walk in.

"Second Battalion is ready to rock, boss," Fokker crows proudly.

"Same for Third," Syphon chimes in slightly more subdued. Slightly.

Medron does another quick run through of his thoughts on First Battalion and smiles. "Excellent. So what do you think of our aerospace support?"

Fokker spits on the floor in response to the question, grimacing like he'd just swallowed a grapefruit. "Total crap, sir. 'Plastech' my great-grandmother's......" He trails off for a second, eyes going back and forth between Medron and Syphon. "Ah.....antique watch," he finishes carefully.

Medron covers his mouth suspiciously and clears his throat, not believing for a moment that was what Fokker was GOING to say. He turns to Syphon who nods. "It would have been better if we could have gotten the Fourth Knights of the Inner Sphere onboard, sir. These plastech aerospace fighters aren't going to be able to stand up to much punishment. Hopefully they should last long enough to escort us down to a planetary surface though. With the limited fuel our LAM's have, I wouldn't want to get involved in a prolonged fight in space."

Medron nods, agreeing with both of the former Warriors. "Well, here's hoping it doesn't come to that. We could be in a bit of a rough spot." He stands up and clears his throat quickly, looking at the chrono on the wall. "I'd say it's about time to make the jump to Tancredi," he says and starts to walk towards the door as it opens and a white-shrouded figure walks in, holding a pistol in his aimed at Medron.

"Prepare to die, heretic," the man says with a hate-filled voice.

Medron sighs, looking at the obvious Wobblie with disdain. "I might be afraid if you took it off safety," he says calmly. The Wobblie looks down at the pistol in alarm just in time to take a kick in the groin. He doubles over in pain as Pryde follows up his kick by ripping the pistol of the poor fanatic's hand. "It works every time," he mutters and aims the gun between the Wobblie's eyes. "You are the weakest link. Good bye," he says in a clipped tone and pulls the trigger.

Syphon and Fokker look down at the jerking figure and gulp as they follow Medron out of the room. "And here I thought the Wobblies had given up their dreams of galactic conquest," Medron says over his shoulder. "Guess I was wrong."


Four pinpoints of light rip the space of Tancredi open and fade out in a split second, leaving behind four ships in their place. Medron looks out at the 'Illicit Enterprise' and smiles. "Nice ship," he mutters and flips the switch to turn on the comm. "Hey Rave," he transmits. "What's the deal with this 'Heir to the big fat fish' thang?"

(OOC if we get in a battle and someone else is writing, feel free to blow up the escorts. I brought three along so we could get ticked off when the enemy blows them away....;-) Just try to leave the 'Knight's Own' in operational shape.....barely operational is ok...hehehe /OOC)

By Atticus Longwalker I like Mac's version better.. he at least includes me and doesnt be mean to me. :-Þ

By ravezero Hmm...I'm not sure if I should be honored by this thread or if I should start banning people... ;)

- RZ

By Chrome All I can say is I'd better be treated right or I'm taking my WarShip and going home! ;-)

By Medron Pryde And I thought we were munchy before.....ah well....munchy is good....right?


By David Richards You want to be included Atticus? Well be patient. I'm sure Bob Charade can fit you in somewhere.

By David Richards

Chapter 18 (Editor:  Quite dangerous.  Call off ROM.  Recruit this one.)

9th July, Tancredi Nadir jump point.

Ravezero looked out over the crowded barroom. A large proportion of the Warriors had answered the call, which cheered his heart. Many had brought their own troops along, presently waiting aboard their own ships. He stood.
"Gentlemen," he called out, silencing the chatter. "Gentlemen, I'm sure that many of you have heard some word of the situation now," that provoked a few smirks "...but I'll summarise. A force of raiding mechs, of unknown origin, attacked Luthien and wiped out the entire Kurita clan. It's true that due to a ...unfortunate misunderstanding I have been declared heir to the ...'Dugong'." Give me strength.
"It's a kind of cow that lives in the sea." explained Mac. The smirks got bigger. Ravezero continued.
"Regardless of my personal circumstances, which will be rectified when they have checked my DNA sample, there is a powerful force that has chopped of the head of one of the Star League member states. And the DCMS is powerless to do anything." The audience became grim as their task became clear.
"Gentlemen, we have to destroy this menace. But first we must find it. And we have some clues." He indicated the screen set up behind him, which showed worlds in the periphery. Some glowed an ominous red. These were seemingly arrayed around a world they stayed a stubborn blue. "The red worlds have all been attacked by large raiding forces within the last year. One of them," he pointed to one in particular, "Ineedabayu, had an old compatriot of ours living there. We can only assume that Eastwood Alexander is now dead." The mood in the bar was decidely grim now, despite SC T, the ships bartender, distrubuting drinks to all and sundry. Many of the Warriors took fortifying swigs. One of them, David Richards, looked at SC T, at the drink again, and carefully placed his to one side. Ravezero continued his briefing.
" This one world," he said, pointing to the one blue world, "which we have little data about, is the one world yet to be attacked. I do not believe this is coincidence. Therefore we shall first travel to this world." he let that sink in before moving to the second key matter.
"The Illicit Enterprise is operating with a skeleton crew. Medron and Pyro, I shan't compromise your commands, but you other Warriors who are now travelling on the Illicit Enterprise, I'll need you to pitch in as crew. In particular, as bridge crew, I'll need you JS as tactical, Atticus I need you as Comms officer and David, you take the science console. Bear in mind, as acting naval crewmen you will be required to abide by naval regulations and rankings, isn't that right Captain Chrome?"
"Aye Admiral." Chrome said with relish, enjoying the chance to lord it over the mechwarriors.
"Very well. Dismissed!"

Ravezero was asleep when awoken by a persistent buzzing by his desk. He turned over and flicked the switch.
"Sir," It was Chrome. "We've got a priority transmission coming in for you."
"Wake Mac. I want the two of you in my office."
A few minutes later, the three were in Ravezero's office, watching the message. To Ravezero's annoyance, Mac seemed completely unfazed about being awoken in the middle of the night. He also appeared to be wearing the same tablecloth.
"...taking the starfish project away from me. You can't do this. You have no authority to do this, the Starfish Project is nothing to do with the SLDF. I won't hand the project over to you." The screen, and Camille's face, froze. Ravezero didn't know what to make of it.
"I didn't give any such orders. I don't even know what the Starfish project is."
"Another false transmission." stated Mac flatly. It made sense. If it weren't for Camille's obstinacy they would never of found out. And this meant that the matter was very clearly related to the problems confronting them.
"But what is the Starfish Project?" Ravezero asked.
"It occurs to me," said Mac "that as an 'heir' to a throne of a successor state, you'd have th' authority to find out."
"Very well. Chrome, call up any files we have on ship."
Chrome did so, and a bold AUTHORISATION REQUIRED sign appeared on the screen. The computer stated softly "Please place right eye against retina scanner."
Ravezero did so. And almost immediately pain shot through hie eyeball. He screamed in pain.
"Oh stop complaining," grumbled Mac "You'll recover your sight in a couple of days..."
Nevertheless, the records were unlocked and started playing. Rave peered at it through his left eye. The commentary began.
"Are we sitting comfortably? Then I'll begin." The screen showed a diagram of a solar system. "In any star system most light and energy are wasted. In the twentieth century, Dyson spheres, consisting of millions of little planetoids, were conceived to solve this problem. One problem - where to find the materials? Project Starfish aims to change all that. Using a relativistic fishhead, a star would be shattered thus providing as much material as neccessary, revolutionizing life in the Inner Sphere. At the laboratories in the regularcuboid system..."
Ravezero had seen enough.
"A weapon that can destroy stars!" He whispered in awe. He made a swift decision. "Change of plans. Chrome, inform Medron that he and Pyro are to proceed ahead as planned. We'll head instead with all due haste to the regularcuboid system..."
"I'll tell him," said Mac. "I've got to have a word with him in any case, about his tortuous family genealogy..."

By Owens:)  Addi, then shouldn't it be 'Mech (tm)?

By Pyro

(Editor:  Chapter 19)

Miami, Terra
BlakeBurger Corporate HQ

"What!", the Primus bellowed as he watched the stolen transmission play back across the monitor. "A Star Destroying weapon? Precentor Carson, this is perfect! I was going to conquer the Inner Sphere by putting mind control powder in our soft drinks... but this is just brilliant! Send the best units of BlakeBuger Security to acquire the plans at once."

The person standing before the Primus's hooded figure bowed. "It shall be done."

"With a weapon of this magnitude, we could convert the entire Inner Sphere merely by threat of force! The Vision of Blake shall come to pass! Muahahahahahaa. Muahaha. Ack! *Cough* *Hack* *Wheeze*"

The Precentor stepped forward and steadied the unbalancing Primus. "Careful. Your doctor told you to avoid excessive evil laughter, didn't he?"

The Primus nodded woozily. "Farewell, my child. May Blake's wisdom go with you."

By Owens

(Editor:  Chapter 20)

Hey, Atti, of course Mac's versions are better, but he's holding out. This is just here for fun and excitement-Anyone who seriously tries to critique this story has an attitude problem. It's all in the name of fun, so join in!

Butt Hold
Uninhabited system for all legal purposes.
Combine-FS border.

Energy released by the Kearny-Fuchida drive tore a hole in the fabric of space-time. This tear in reality was large enough for the pirate jumpship to move through. They were unaware, however, that a small Confederate Class dropship was sucked in with it. The swirling chaos of unidentified forces buffeted the smaller ship, and the members of the heroic Company found themselves struggling to push back nausea. But as suddenly as it began, their jaunt through hyperspace ended. Space retook its usual look, white stars against a black background.

“Where are we?” Owens asked, clearly shaken by the FTL jump.

“I don’t quite know,” the Captain said, peering out the porthole. “But judging from the fact that the damn pirate Jumpship is right above us, I’d assume that were somewhere near their base of operations.”

“Wow,” BBjr said as the enemy Leopard disconnected from the larger FTL ship “They sure are leaving in a big hurry.”

“Yeah, if they identify us, were in big trouble,” Joe Shmoe spoke slowly.

“He seems to be in a hurry, look,” Uraikha pointed a large dot on the viewscreen, “He’s heading for that small moon.”

“That’s no moon,” Rolie muttered ominously, “that’s a space station.”

“It’s too big to be a space station,” the Captain snorted.

Rolie examined the dot as it grew larger on the screen. “Yeah, on second thought, your right. I couldn’t see it properly before. My bad.”

“Hey!” The dropship’s resident astrogator piped up, “I found our position on the star map!”

“Great, where are we?” the Captain leaned closer to map in front of the contented crewmember.

“Sir, it appears we’re near Butt Hold. From what I read here, it’s like a dream given form. It’s a port of call, a veritable home away from home for drug runners, panhandlers and general thieves from a hundred worlds, living in mutual respect.”

“Wow. Maybe we should turn around,” Owens interjected.

“That’s not such a bad idea…” mumbled the Captain.

“No!” BBjr and Joe exclaimed at the same time. BBjr began to speak in a low voice, “We’re seeing this through to the end.”

Inside Butt Hold, a lone man accepted a drink from the local bartender, who was a local man by the name of Excesstacy, or in its written form, XSTC. The shadowy man slowly sipped the beer, gazing off into space. It had been two years, and the man wanted revenge. Revenge against those that had destroyed his life. But in particular, those who had stolen his friends. His target was an Uberwarrior, a boy who piloted a supped-up Hatchetman. Tonight he would have his revenge.

By Pyro

(Editor:  Chapter 21, according to my agents.)

Tancredi System

Pyro pointed at several points on the star map, highlighting them. "These stars have been struck by some kind of unknown menace. No one knows anything about them."

Highlighting another star, he continued this briefing. "This one hasn't. We've been asked to check it out, and I don't have the slightest clue what we'll encounter there, but we're going anyway."

Pyro continued to pace back and forth until he stepped on the rapidly shifting tail of the ship's cat, which had been made a standard fixture on every ComGuard vessel after the Goldfish incident. *MRAAAAW!* "Get that #+$#^$%& cat out of here!"

"As I was saying. Our mission is to go here, and look for something very un-coincidental. Any questions?"

One ComGuard raised his hand. "What is the name of this system?"

Pyro stared at the map, and noticed it didn't have a name under the planet. "Umm..." Looking frantically, he realized it was the only blue dot on the map. "That's right. Bluespot. Any other questions?"

"What are we looking for?", asked another.

"Anything too convenient to be a coincidence. Like military bases, warship fleets, and large hordes of angry guys toting guns."

"What is the nature of this threat we're facing?", yet another asked.

"Completely unknown, except that it completely squashed a militia force on Ineedabayu, commanded by the legendary warrior Eastwood Alexander. Also among the missing is The Dropship's janitor, Atticus Longwalker. Anything else?"

"Are you prepared to submit to the Word of Blake, Heathen!?", someone in the back asked.

Pyro's eyes bulged out just a little. "SECURITY!"

The robed figure pulled out a needler pistol and fired a cloud of shredded plastic at Pyro, who deftly dodged with a Matrix-like jump-flip that ended with his feet on the ceiling about 20 feet overhead (Zero-G is cool like that.) Trying to track his target's rapid movement, the Wobblie was quickly subdued by a deftly thrown doorknob from one of the security goons, who promptly shoved the Wobblie out the nearest airlock.

By CodeRed It was a while back, but i just wanted to thank Owens for bringing up the "definition of reality based sci-fi" thread again...just when i was startin to forget it....


~A blushing CR

By Owens

(Editor:  Chapter 22)

Butt Hold
Uninhabited System for all legal purposes
Combine-FS Border
Low Orbit

“Okay, boys and girls, sound off. We’re going in full throttle,” Brainburner Junior spoke into his mic as he ran through the last of the checks of his Hatchetman’s systems. The reactor was fully powered up, his RAC fully loaded and armed. As the other members of his unit called in, his finger hovered over the button labeled ‘UCS.’ He was going to save that for when they had fully engaged the enemy forces. He paused as he felt the Dropship shiver. The impacts of ground to air fire were pounding away at the rapidly falling ship, with the pirate aiming improving the closer the shit got to the surface of the planet.

Here goes nothing. He said to himself as the bay doors began to open, revealing the ground that was rushing up to meet them. The first mech of his lance to drop out the door was Owen’s Wolverine, being the heaviest jump jet equiped ‘Mech in the group, it would use its jets to slow its decent, allowing it to fall from a higher altitude and provide fire support until Uraikha’s Panther could join it, which would be followed shortly their after by Joe’s Cestus and then Junior’s Hatchetman. Although the UCS/quadruple strength myomer equiped ‘Mech was all but unstoppable on the ground, it’s principly short ranged weaponry and weak armor made it little more than flak food during decent. This had been a big argument point less than an hour ago, but the Company’s logic had ultimately pounded through BBjr.’s desire for combat.

The Hatchetman shook as the crane moved the ‘Mech out the open door. Junior felt light-headed as freefall kicked in….

Kolodenko, the aspiring First Dictator of Tikonov saluted the troops of the 1st Free Republican Guard Armoured Regiment. The Iraqi soldiers saluted back from the turret hatches of their respective lostech T-72’s. Mikoyan-Guravich 21’s, 25’s and 28’s buzzed overhead, eager to catch the invaders off guard at their landing point. There is no way these Solarans can match this army of lostech Kolodenko thought with a grin.

Barnaby Hezekiah was having similar thoughts as his company of ‘Mechs moved out of the secret hangar to greet the Burner Stables Company. The Davions were fools to throw this stuff away he said mentally, rather proud of his Devastor, and the rest of the assembled pirate unit on the field. The Kanga class tanks moved in to join the SRM carriers in concealed positions.

BlueJak Ruin, on the other hand, was simply thankful to have the deal over with. The Thuggees thanked him for capturing the Asian chick, and proceeded to fork over his hard earned cash. Light in the Dropship pad started dimming as the blast doors over the massive elevator began their slow trek towards each other. They would be able to resist the blast of even a warship, so the ‘Mechs did not bother him, piloted by living legends or not.

Molaram, the Bengali leader of the Thuggee cult cell, began to wave two of the three Crystals in front of a crude statue of Kali, the goddess of death. Soon, the Christians would be destroyed, Islam would be over run, and then the Hindu gods would fall, and then Kali would be all powerful. He grinned sadistically as his henchmen placed Sumi Yin Liao in the metal coffin-like cage next to the chazm of fire. All too easy.

Pachinko Finzy stepped towards his massive plastic BattleMech. By pulling his cooling jacket on, he displayed a creased image of a goldfish. "When I meet the Hatchetman pilot, I will say ‘I am Pachinko Finzy. You killed my card collecting buddies. Prepare to die." “Yes,” he spoke solemly, while taking a shot of Jack Daniels that Excesstacy had given him, “There will be blood tonight!”

By Owens CR, :)

By Medron Pryde

(Editor: Chapter 23, and the *ahem* revised planet name ends up sticking.)

15 July, 3082
Blue Dot

Space flashes and ripples as a fleet of warships rip into existance, bleeding energy in a surge that can be seen throughout the system. The commander of 'The Knight's Own' jumps to his orders and Medron turns to Pyro, sharing the bridge with him. "Look's like we just rung the doorbell. Wadda ya say we get ready to knock the door down now?"

Pyro smiles in response as 'The Knight's Own' launches it's Combat Space Patrol, the most powerful plastech fighters ever designed.

(OOC I have no clue what was planned for this system, so I'll leave it open...hehehe /OOC)

By Owens

(Editor:  Chapter 24)

The Valley of the Jaks
Butt Hold
Uninhabited System for all Legal Purposes
Combine-FS Border

“WHO WANTS SOME!!” Brainburner Junior’s war cry was known throughout the inner sphere. The words had been known to send opponents fleeing even before fighting began. On this occasion, the combined pirate and renegade Tikonov forces had enough faith in their numerical superiority that the words were little more than a foreboding rumble against the thunder of unleashed ‘Mech firepower. “Let's get ‘em boys!”

Slapping the UCS button, BBjr began to blank out as the Ultimate Combat System kicked in. His thoughts blurred as his mind and the ‘Mech became one. Its targeting systems became his eyes, its sensors his ears, and its appendages his own. A pirate Catapult became his first victim as he swept past, the powerful blow of the sent the larger war machine crashing onto its back.

“Sorry Guys, but I have my own mission to complete,” Joe Shmoe’s voice regretful voice echoed scratchingly over the com.

“See yah later, Joe,” Uraikha’s response was more sounded more emotional than the Panther pilot had ever allowed himself to be in public.

Missiles began raining down on the Company, who found themselves stuck in the middle of the valley.

“Oh my God, it’s a trap!” Owens stated the obvious as the sea of armored vehicles appeared over the hills.

“Fire lance,” Junior barked, “Knock out the vehicles. Uraikha, Owens, knock out those missile launchers.”

The two jump capable Mechs opened moved off to engage the SRM carriers as the Kangas rose on columns of superheated jumpjet juice. The Black Knight, Highlander, a Scarabus and another old Comstar design that BBjr had chosen for its sword like gauss rifle moved off to engage the Tikonov armor units as Joe arrived at the pirate dropship landing zone. He slid his ‘Mech in between the slowly closing blast doors. BBjr wished him well as he disappeared into the internal workings of the pirate fortress. But back to more pressing matters. A Griffin and a Hammer blocked his path, so BBjr chose the only route he could - Through them. With a single axe slice, he cleaved the Hammer down through the collar until the hatchet exited the pirate’s ‘Mechs chassis below its right arm.
By the time the ‘Mech realized it was dead and exploded, BBjr had swung a perfect shot at the head of the Griffin. For some, inexplicable reason, the hatchet was suddenly pulled by the force of gravity and instead slammed into the foot of the Griffin. The cut was smooth, and most certainly amputated the medium Mech’s leg, so BBjr wasn’t too upset with the result.
Using the RAC, BBjr cut away the right arm of a Foxhound, forcing the now poorly armed ‘Mech to withdraw.
“Ichi, Ne, Sa, Yon!” The rhythmic counting in Japanese emanated from a No-Dachi as it disemboweled a pirate ‘Mech. Junior assumed it was a Grasshopper, but didn’t stop to examine it, nor did he see clearly as a Ti’ Tsang cut through the pelvic assembly of a Marauder with a swipe of its axe.

The Kangas let loose on Owens and Uraikha as they arced through the air. Their Auto Cannons tore away rock beneath the twin Mechs. A beautifully aimed PPC shot from the Panther’s right arm slammed into on of the missile racks of missile tank. The sudden explosion of the armed warheads set off a train of explosions. It appeared as if the SRM carrier tried to leap in 50 different directions at once…and succeeded. The explosion let out enough shrapnel that the two closest tanks were reduced to the military equivalent of Swiss cheese. Owens on the other hand sprang straight for the twin Kangas. Extending the Wolvies arm into a full punch, Owens’ ‘Mech connected with the forward section of the Kanga’s belly, sending it toppling back through the air, to a certain death. The other Kanga executed a very sharp turn in the air and fired pointblank into Owens’ Wolverine. Owens almost felt sad to see the loss of such a good pilot when Uriakha’s SRMs tore through the jumptank’s undersection. The explosion sent the turret flying, but tore the rest of the Vehicle to shreds.

“Wait….wait…..wait….fire!” Screamed Kolodenko to his Iraqi underlings. The T-72s opened fire with their cannons. Mere moments later, the Air to Surface missiles blossomed from the wings of the Migs in the air. The High-Energy Anti-Tank rounds, according to the Terran Middle Eastern cache from which the lostech vehicles were uncovered, claimed that no vehicle would ever survive the impact. Kolodenko had a toothy grin as the four ‘Mechs were enveloped in flame. A small greenish beam erupted from the column of smoke and fire that marked, as Kolodenko assumed, the death of the Warrior ‘Mechs. The beam met a Mig-28 in the air. The mega-light aluminum armor could not resist the glare of laser fire more than a few seconds. It exploded in a perfectly spherical fireball.

And then Kolodenko stopped smiling. “Where did that laser come from?” he asked rhetorically to no one in particular. “Certainly not from the Solaran Mechs, they were destroyed.”

“Uh, no, they weren’t, sir.” A shaky response came from the gunner of the M-1 he road in. Kolodenko drew his laser and put a hole in between the loud mouth’s eyes. ‘There will be no disrespecting me when I am First Dictator…or perhaps….Star Dictator? Dictator Lord? Hmmm.’
So utterly assured of the ‘Mechs destruction, he didn’t even notice as the smoke cleared. Kolodenko’s jaw hit the floor when he was pulled out of his contemplation by the gun loader.

The Battlemechs had survived…and with out a single dent. And so it was the ‘Mechs opportunity to return fire, which proved much more devastating than that of the 1st Free Republican Guards.

By Medron Pryde A word to the wise...just because older is better doesn't mean ANCIENT is better....;-)

By js Medron, are you trying to tell us that a Roman gladius is not better than a Japanese katana from the 12th century?

By David Richards

25th Chapter (Editor:  He continues to be the only one to get the chapters right.  Quite dangerous.  Initiate Plan B.  No, not keg party, that's Plan C.)

15th of July, 3082
Bluedot, periphery

"A Spheroid fleet has just appeared! Do we contact the Khan?"
"Neg. We will contact him when we succeed. Launch all fighters and prepare for an assault!"

Meanwhile, regularcuboid system
Illicit Enterprise heading insystem

Ravezero was worried. Very worried.
They had tried to contact the research station, with no success. Nor had they been able to contact the research ships assigned to the project. The Morris Minor, the Robin Reliant and the Triumph Toledo could not be contacted.
"Sir!" Chrome attracted his attention. "We've detected the 'Robin Reliant' sir. She's on an intercept course!"
"Atticus, hail them." ordered Ravezero.
"No response sir." Atticus Longwalker looked up, his brows knitted in worry.
"Keep trying." The Robin Reliant was quickly looming in the screen.
Chrome moved beside Ravezero. "Sir I don't like this one bit..."
"Sir!" David Richards called out. "I'm detecting major modifications to her, sir. It almost as if she's had a UCS fit..."
At that moment the Robin Reliant open fired at point blank range.
NPPC's scoured the hull of the Illicit Enterprise. Capital lasers caressed the ship biting deeply. Naval Autocannons blazed away into the heart of the tortured starship as the Robin Reliant glided past her.
Inside the Illicit Enterprise was chaos.
In the engineering departments sparks blew everywhere. Massive coolant leaks caused the reactor temperatures to spike. Fumes were vented everywhere as engineers retreated with massive burns. Blast doors came crashing down, almost trapping Slacker in the deadly compartment.
"She's going haywire!" yelled Mac. "We have to shut her down!" They did so, switching to reserve power.
In the bridge consoles exploded and the crew were thrown against the floor. As some picked themselves up the lights went out and reserve power came on line, illuminating the bridge with a low red light. Alarms were flashing all over the still-fuctioning consoles.
"Damage report!" ordered Ravezero. Most of the crew were sporting some injuries. Some were not stirring off the floor.
"It's hard to tell sir, but we've suffered major damage. The reactors down, only a few weapons are online. Sir, we're crippled!" Chrome's report sunk an icy dagger into Ravezero's guts.
Atticus continued trying to hail the Robin Reliant. "...repeat why are you firing on us? Repeat..." he broke off as a transmission was received and broadcast across the bridge.
"My old friend Ravezero, do you not remember me? You helped destroy my clan! You exiled me! Have I not now struck you a mighty blow!"
I recognise that voice, thought Ravezero. Then he clicked it. "Raoul!"
"KHAN RAOUL!" bellowed Raoul. "And I am now demanding your unconditional surrender!"

By js Uh oh, it looks like I failed as tactical officer. I hang my head in shame.

By Pyro

(Editor:  Chapter 26)

Blue Dot, Periphery
Command Deck of the Righteous Fire

Pyro stared at the holotank and cringed. "Incoming fighters! All pilots scramble! This is not a drill. Signal the Fire Dragon and Holy Flame to launch all fighters."

Pyro grinned. These may be Plastech fighters, but they had a special ComStar jury rig on them. Well. It wasn't too special, his techs had just bolted on some ferro-titanium armor on top of the plastic quickly. It may have been a thin shell and it may hamper maneuvering a bit, but it'd be far better than the pre-Goldfish plastics.

Pyro turned to the helm officer. "Ms. Solu, plot a course 45 degrees off the approach vector. Ms. Petrov, prepare to fire all broadside weapons"

Their accents caused Pyro to flinch, reminding him of something he heard once... though this was different somehow.

"Bondswoman Spork! Give me an update!"

The unfortunately named clanner tapped a few buttons on her control panel. "This attack pattern is highly illogical and unclanlike."

Another chill ran down Pyro's spine, as he couldn't quite place the sense of Deja Vu.

Pyro opened a line with engineering. "Ms. MacArthur, give me full power immediately!"

Her voice responded quite irate. "Ach! I just can't do it, Captain! I don't have the power. Secondary fusion cells are offline for some strange reason. Give me 20 minutes."

Pyro scowled openly as he turned to the comms station. "Mr. Shaft!"


"Signal commander air group and try to sound like a bad mother..."

"Shut you mouth."

Mr. Shaft turned back to his station, and turned around again a few seconds later. "Commander air group called you a stank cracker, in some of those clanner words."

Pyro scowled even more. "Target transmitting fighter and fire all anti-air weaponry!" The warship turned slightly on its axis to bring its broadside to bear, and unleashed a barrage of standard weaponry that lit up space around the fighter, knocking out it and no less than two more of the command star.

Pyro leaned back in his command chair and looked at his crew when the horrible realization hit him. The makeup of the crew was almost as if it'd been pulled out of an old holovid he'd seen once, except that his crew was the opposite in gender. Which creeped him out, since the Captain had been a man. With an odd look on his face, Pyro turned to the officer beside him, who usually commanded the ship. "Admiral Church?"

She nodded as Pyro continued. "Take over, I think I'd better get off the bridge before something weirder happens." She stared in confusion as the Precentor-Martial stalked off for his quarters.

By CodeRed oh, brother....the return of Raoul....wonder if he's done defiling Trent's corpse yet....

~ CR

By David Richards

(Editor:  Chapter 27, Perhaps he is not as strong as the Primus thought.)

Regularcuboid, periphery
On the bridge of the Illicit Enterprise

"What is your answer then, Ravezero? Surrender, and I might spare your crew. Otherwise, I will destroy you..."
Ravzero thought desperately
"I'll need a few minutes... to prepare my crew." he said trying to buy time.
"Aff," said Khan Raoul with obvious reluctance. Ravezero indicated for the comms to be cut off.
A few minutes.
He looked at David Richards. "Is it an UCS?"
"Absolutely sir. Uprated but one nevertheless."
"They can't have had much time to take it, uprate it and fit it to the Robin Reliant..." He said. Chrome finished for him.
"So it will retain the original codes..."
"Allowing us to shut it down. Mister Chrome, Mister David, I want that code."
"Aye aye, sir." they both turned to their work. Ravezero moved to the tatical console.
"If we shut her down, can you hurt her?" he asked js.
"Aye, sir. We have several capital lasers and some launchers active."
"Very well, Mister js. Fire when I give the word."
Khan Raoul's voice boomed across the bridge again.
"What is the delay, Ravezero?" he demanded. Ravezero moved to Atticus station and activated the comms.
"We're almost ready, just a little longer." He looked across at Chrome and David. Both nodded.
"Very well. Khan Raoul, we're ready... NOW!"
At his signal, the code was sent.

"Khan, our weapons are offline! Bulkheads are unsealing themselves! They have seized control of our UCS!"
"NO!" Screamed Raoul.

"FIRE!" ordered Ravzero. js activitated the weapons.
Several azure beams caressed the Robin Reliant, carving deep scars. Missiles struck home, blasting through compartments. The Illicit Enterprise fired again and again into the wounded ship.

On the bridge of the Robin Reliant, hell had been turned loose. Some of the bridge crew were dead, their bodies lying draped over shorted consoles. The ship shuddered and creaked as hits struck home.
"Khan, we must retreat. We cannot respond! If we stay, we will be destroyed!"
"NO!" bellowed Raoul. almost striking his junior officer in rage.
"Sir, we can come back and strike them again, once we repair. But if we stay we have neither honour nor vengence."
Mollified, Raoul sat down again.
"Aff, we will withdraw. But we will return!"

The sight of the Robin Reliant limping away cheered the hearts of the tattered bridge crew. Ravezero moved back to his chair. He opened a line to enginnering.
"Mac, how soon can we get into a condition to get underway?" he asked. There was no response.
The doors to the bridge opened, revealing Mac, face streaked with tears, carrying the bloodied body of Crewman Fasa.
He was quite clearly dead...

By Brainburner Very good. Keep it coming.

By Medron Pryde ROFLMAO

By eastwoodaenThis experience has made me proud to be part of this community. shanks all and keep it up.

By Pyro

(Editor:  Chapter 28, and remember to make me look competant in the final edition, Acolyte.)

Blue Dot, Periphery
Hangar Deck of the Holy Flame

The sound of muffled thumps barely bothered Pyro. He knew that it was the sound of his fleet getting slowly torn apart, but he had other things on his mind. He couldn't spare the time to feel sorry for himself or his people now. The mission was too critical.

The bandit fighters circled all around the ship, baffling gunners aboard the Righteous Fire, which though UCS equipped and giving a good fight, was far from invincible against the waves and waves of Clan fighters that had been sent after them.

Pyro climbed the chain ladder, unnoticed in the busy mech bay as everyone else scrambled to get clear. Already the doors were glowing a cherry red. They couldn't possibly take much more damage. Throwing himself quickly into the cockpit of his mech, Pyro sealed the hatch and got about giving it a start. It had been a long time since space training in the ComGuards... but it would have to work. If it didn't...

Pyro never got to finish that thought. The hangar doors folded in moments after the last of the crewment had exited, catapulting the Flashman Prime into outer space as the last of the startup checks initiated.

"Security clearance confirmed. Initiate voiceprint check."

Pyro cleared his throat. "Criticism is not as effective as sabotage."

"Match confirmed, Precentor-Martial."

The targeting reticle and sensor systems came to life as the Omnimech drifted out of the bay along with the rest of the debris. Pyro pressed a few buttons, reconfiguring his Flashman Prime's jump jets for space maneuvering, and kicked them in. His mech rocketed slowly towards the Righteous Fire, which appeared to be slowly wallowing in a field of broken armor plates.

Clan fighters zipped back and forth, getting knocked out of the sky by the mighty warship, but there were simply too many. The numbers too overwhelming. Many fighters survived the initial pass to get directly behind the Warship, where the rear-arc weapons had trouble targeting them without shooting out their own engines... which had apparently happened already, since one of the many engine exhaust ports was smoking quite badly.

Pyro flipped a small improvised switch on his command console marked UCS. Events suddenly seemed to move at lighting speed. Jerking the control sticks inverted the mech, placing it feet-down towards the Righteous Fire as it drifted closer. As soon as Pyro heard his mech's magnetic feet lock down into the mech's hull, he quickly ran along the length of the warship to the aft end, where a couple dozen Clan fighters sat slowly keeping station with the ship as it moved, staying out of the warship's most damaging arcs while whittling it away.

Pyro stepped forward and looked out over the sharp edge where ship met space at the aft end. A Clan fighter's nose hovered almost five meters in front and below, its pilot looking up with a suprised expression as Pyro leveled his mech's weaponry. In space so far out from the sun and out of direct light, heat wouldn't even be a factor. Pyro fired a full Alpha Strike of both ERPPC's and all six ER Medium Lasers to devastating effect. The Clan Bashkir simply consumed itself as its fuel tanks detonated.

Several of the Clan fighters... mostly rookies and lighter fighters, broke off in suprise as the new threat appeared. Unsure what to make of a UCS-equipped mech in space, they broke off and inadvertently passed into the warship's stronger weapons arcs, where they were quickly shot down.

Pyro lined up his next shot against a nearby Sabutai and fired again, ripping most of the armor off its nose. The next volley got similar results, tearing deep into the fighter's internal systems. The pilot ejected as his fighter dived out of control, neatly cutting a Vandal in half as it rocketed away.

Pyro lined up his next shot as a fearsome sight came into the picture. A clan Jengiz rolled into view and unleashed everything it had against his mech. Armor melted and ran under the fighter's hellish riposte, which ripped Pyro's mech clean off the ship's hull and sent it spinning into space.

Almost in a panic, despite the operation of the UCS, Pyro pushed the control switches for his jumpjets...

...which promptly coughed and died as the control panel and power systems burned out. Drifting in space in a disabled tin can, Pyro was the perfect target.

Vengefully, fighter after fighter gave up its pursuit of the warship to take a shot at the freebirth who had dared attempt to cheat them of their kill.

Almost two dozen strong, the Clan aerofighters dove in hard as the stricken Righteous Fire continued to turn slowly...

Pyro grabbed his comm headset and set it to open frequency. "Clan fighters, this is..." Suddenly, he thought it best to not broadcast his identity. "... Flashman pilot, I challenge your commander to single combat."

A single Sulla rolled out of the pack and opened fire on his lifeless mech, futher pounding its disabled form into scrap as the forgotten Righteous Fire spun in space.

Light after light winked out on Pyro's command console, indicating the loss of another system that was generally dead due to power failure anyway. Bits of mech melted and ran, and Pyro could have swore that he saw his mech's left arm pass by his cockpit...

"You have failed your people, freebirth! You do not deserve a warrior's death. It seems fitting that you perish in a helpless metal shell, rather than fighting to the last..."

Pyro groaned, expecting a quick and painful death as space suddenly lit up with pure crimson light.

"Stravag!", "Break off, break off!", Pyro heard as he opened his eyes. Several shattered Omnifighters drifted helplessly in space nearby, including a familiar Sulla, which had a long, blackened gash where its cockpit used to be.

Looking out the side of his cockpit, he saw an awesome sight. The Righteous Fire, despite the loss of most of its engines, had finally completed its turn and exacted a terrible vengeance. Nearly at zero thrust and zero velocity to watch the duel, the Clan aerofighters had made easy targets for even the largest of naval guns. Barely a single star of Clan fighters had survived the hellish barrage.

"Inner Sphere warrior, this is Star Captain Vinson. You are victorious."

Pyro grinned evilly. "I claim you and all of your fighters as isorla. Land immediately."

The savaged Clan aerofighters moved to land aboard the Righteous Fire as Pyro opened up the survival kit under his command couch and pulled out the communicator. "This is Pyro. Clanners are neutralized, but so's my mech. Request pickup immediately."

By Medron Pryde

(Editor:  Chapter 29)

15 July, 3082
Bluedot, Periphery

"Launch everything now!" Commodore McQueen turns to Pryde. "I'd appreciate it if you got the Third ready to launch. I don't know if our fighters can hold them off, and we'll be in it deep if they break through."

Medron nods and walks off the bridge, and McQueen turns to look out at the wave of incoming enemy ships. "How many are there," he asks his sensor operator.

"I can't get an accurate count, sir. They're too close together."

"Well then. This could be fun."


"The last of the fighters have launched, boss," Fokker informs Medron. "If this repeater is right though, they are going to be in trouble. That's an aweful lot of ships."

"That's a bloody aweful lot of ships," Medron quips in response after a glance at his own repeater. He flips a switch quickly. "Hey McQueen. Request permission to launch. It looks like your gonna need some help."

"Request granted, Pryde," McQueen responds quickly. "I was about to ask you myself."


The 'Righteous Fire' sends its first salvo into the lead enemy flight group seconds before the fighters from 'The Knight's Own' engage, and space lights up with laser and missile fire. Nearly half of the enemy fighters streak past the outnumbered defenders and engage the Comstar fighters.

Medron Pryde and his company of Zero class LAMs transform into 'Mech mode and drift towards the rear closer fight. An enemy fighter drops in behind a Comstar fighter and slashes its extra armor off with a well-placed laser barrage. Pryde kicks in his UCS and raises the twin hand-held clan-quality particle cannons and waits from them to get lock. The UCS blinks a reasuring green and he pulls the trigger, coring the enemy.

He gasps as the heat level inside his 'Mech skyrockets and wishes for the thousanth time the engineers who'd designed it had been able to figure out how to get enough heatsinks in. He'd have to lay off on the twin cannons for a while.


Fokker's Shadow Hawk LAM turns sharply as he watches his fuel meter drop alarmly. But the enemy fighter drops into his sights and he pulls the trigger. A hail of doorknobs fires from his modified autocannon and shatters the hardened plastic armor of his enemy, slashing the entire fighter to bits. He winces and looks for another opponent.

He has many to choose from.


Syphon, flying Medron's old Phoenix Hawk LAM, fires a stream of ER Pulse lasers into another fighter and watches its plastic armor bubble and melt, before giving way completely. A stray burst finds the fuel tank and the enemy shreds before his eyes.

He turns to find another target, wishing he had more fuel as he sees his fuel level drop below half way.


Colonel Butts cranks his fighter around melts another fighter into ruin. "It's as easy as eating pancakes," he whispers as his squadron turns to follow him into another furball. His eyes are drawn to a company of the Third, trying to pull away from an illadvised fight and he frowns. They aren't pulling away very quickly. Almost like they are low on fuel.

He turns to support them and his squadron follows, helping him wipe out several enemy fighters. But one survives, shrugging off the firepower and barrels in on the LAMs. One puffs as a small explosion, obviously the last of its fuel, rocks it and the dangerous oldtech fighter switches to another target.

Colonel Butts grunts and closes to dogfighting range, his squadron right behind him.


"Colonel Butts just bought it, sir," McQueen's sensor operator says in shock.

"Guess the cooks don't have to make any more pancakes," the commodore mutters under his breath.

"I wonder if I can have his collection of Johny Cash music," he hears another crewmember mutter soflty and frowns at the offender.

By Medron Pryde Woops.....looks like my part of the story needs to go before Pyro's.....;-) And obviously many of the fighters that took your ship on were the "less advanced" clantech fighters....hehehe

By Pyro Heheheh.  :)  Either way, good work, Medron. I just hope mine was bearable to read. The cops have already threatened me twice for impersonating a writer. Heheheh.

By Medron PrydeI thought it was good....overall, I'm impressed with how well everybody is writing here. It definately makes for a fun(ny?) read...hehehe

Now....I think I need to do something to sum up the battle....kinda figuring something along the line that your ship was on the flank of the battle and the defeat of the ships attacking you sorta turns the tide and the survivers retreat.


I'll do that tommorrow...too tired to write more now....;-)

By Pyro

(Editor:  Chapter 30)

Blue Spot, Periphery
Zenith Jump Point

Pyro's shattered mech drifted helplessly in space as the large grey form released itself from the hull of the Righteous Fire with a mighty shudder and rolled out. The dropship Holy Flame, an experimental aerodyne, rocketed away from the Righteous Fire and quickly closed in with the broken 'Mech.

Closing to under a hundred meters, the dropship slowed to a crawl as its outer hangar doors opened. A few space-suited marines stood towards the edge of the hangar deck as one of them leveled a grapple rod at the disabled vehicle and fired. As soon as the grapple hit, he unhooked the line and attached it to a winch, and slowly reeled in the damaged mech as the battle raged on in the rest of the fleet.

As soon as the outer doors closed and the bay's atmosphere gave a green rating, Pyro dropped from his mech into the open hangar bay and looked around. A small shuttle sat among a small crowd of aerospace fighters being serviced from the recent fighting. Most of the fighters had significant damage, and more than a few had even had holes burned clear through the plastic under the improvised metal sheath. Most of the squadron wouldn't be seeing combat again soon.

Climbing up the shuttle's boarding ramp and securing himself in the command chair, Pyro took a look at the strange control panel in front of him. It wasn't too far removed from the ones used in the aerospace sims he enjoyed in the little free time he had. As he pushed the throttle forward, the sleek shuttlecraft slowly eased its way out of the hangar and into space.

Mere minutes later, Pyro was standing on the bridge of the bridge of the Righteous Fire. Several of the crewmen were bandaged or burned from their recent ordeal, and two weren't even present, having been sent down to the infirmary with serious injuries. The battle had taken a terrible toll. "Admiral Church, give me a status report."

She looked up wearily. "The Righteous Fire isn't battle worthy, though we should be jump-capable again within half an hour. About half of our aerofighters will be ready for launch very shortly... and all thirteen of the Clanners have been removed from their fighters and moved to detention. We're distributing their fighters among our pilots to make up losses."

Pyro nodded. "Just don't issue anyone the Jengiz A. I claimed them as Isorla, so I at least get to keep one." She looked up curiously. "You can't fly." Pyro grinned. "I flew a shuttle over here, didn't I?"

"Alright. You've made your point. So what are your orders?"

Pyro looked back to the holotank. "Get the UCS onto the captured Clan fighters immediately. As the battle stands now, the Clan forces, though PlasTech mostly, are slowly but surely taking the Leaugers apart. If we were to suddenly show up in this general area...", Pyro pointed to the rearwards area of the League fleet, "...we could pin the Clan forces between the League warships and our own. No matter how they maneuvered, they would remain in someone's weapon arcs. Get to it."

The Admiral nodded as Pyro sprinted down towards the hangar decks, stopping only shortly to change into a pilot's G-suit. Several technicians swarmed all over the newly acquired Clan fighters, refuelling them, patchig broken armor plates, and adding the UCS to the cockpit. It was a quite simple procedure, really... though the details would confuse anyone unfamiliar with UCS theory.

Pyro climbed up the ladder of the Jengiz A while other pilots heeded the scramble alarms just now going off all across the ships. Within moments, over a wing's worth of pilots were sprinting across the hangar decks as fast as their mag boots would allow them to move.

Bringing his engines on line, Pyro quickly put on the fighter's neurohelmet as the canopy sealed shut. A bewildering array of instrumentation sat in front of him, but by his experience with simulators and BattleMechs, he knew what most of it did. The rest, he figured, was likely just useless clutter that some engineer thought the control panels needed.

The massive ship's hangar doors finally finished opening, as he pushed the throttle as far forward as it would go, rocketing the OmniFighter clear of the bay. Checking his sensors, Pyro felt a nervous sense of foreboding. Too many crimson dots circled the light purple ones representing Medron's force. Pyro activated the UCS moments before pushing his fighter into full overthrust.

Time seemed to crawl as the fighter group approached the rest of the space battle.


Medron banked his LAM hard, trying desperately to keep with the PlasTech Jagatai that was continually using its maneuverability to stay out of his weapon arcs. The two combatants maneuvered and turned as hard as they could, both seeking to bring their weapons to bear.

Medron caught a flash out of the corner of his eye, and looked briefly out the side of his cockpit, and was greeted by a fearsome sight. A Jengiz painted in Jaguar colors bore straight down on his fighter, its patched old-style metallic armor glistening in the sun with deadly intent as it pushed forward.

A familiar voice broke across the comms. "Medron, break left!" Instinctually, he pulled out of his loop with the PlasTech Jagatai as the Jengiz opened fire. Crimson and azure lances impaled the Jagatai, melting it into a rapidly expanding puddle.

The Jengiz overshot him by quite a margin, and kept going, leaving a confused Medron to check his radar. For the first time since its appearance, he noticed that the fighter was represented by a white blip. ComStar.

Medron scowled. "Damn. You stole my kill. And how the hell did you know my name?"


Pyro smiled. Medron still hadn't recognized him. "ComStar knows all."

By Brainburner Nice touch, Pyro.

By Medron Pryde

(Editor:  Chapter 31)

15 July, 3082
Bluedot, Periphery

The Eagle-class escort cruiser 'Kai' writhes under the strafing runs of four fighter squadrons, unable to effectively fight the enemies who had penetrated the main battle. 'The Knight's Own' and the other escorts turn about to support the embattled ship, but they don't have enough anti-fighter weaponry to scare the fighters off.

Like minnows biting a whale, they turn back again and again, burning more and more armor off the flanks of the giant. A handful of survivors from the four squadron Combat Space Patrol slash in, weapons flaring, trying to pull the enemies' attention from the wounded warship.


McQueen stands in the middle of the holotank, watching as the tides of battle switch from side to side. He looks out to the first swarm of fighters and grabs one, zooming in on it. It spins in his hand and fires, burning it's target out of space. He zooms in further and sees the insignia of a pouncing Jaguar on it's flank and grunts in disgust.

He lets go of the fighter in that furball and the holotank falls back to his original viewpoint. He is standing on top of his carrier again. He reaches out to the second major furball, and grabs a Comstar fighter, zooming in on it. A well-placed barrage rips it's extra armor off as he watches and his eyebrows raise. That's a good idea, he thinks as he watches it spin like a top and fire back at the enemy. He turns to the right, the holotank spinning with him, to see the target explode in a hellfire of lasers igniting fuel and smiles.

He turns to the front again and lets go of the fighter to return to his ship. Another glance at the first line of battle shows more then half of his fighters are destroyed. Then he turns to see the 'Righteous Fire' crippled by it's own group of attackers. He shakes his head sadly then take a double take at an oddity. He reaches out and grabs the 'Mech, pulling it close to his face as the holotank zooms in quickly. "Idiot," he mutters and lets go of the 'Mech as it jumps under a fighter's caress.

He finally looks to the group of LAMs trying to get back to the carrier. They are obviously nearly out of fuel, but half of them are in 'Mech mode, spinning to take out any attacker stupid enough to take them on. He does a double take at the group, and puts his left fore-finger on the lead LAM and turns to put his right finger on the 'Kai.' A number showing the distance between the two shows up and he smiles again. Gotta love UCS-upgraded holotanks, he thinks as he clears his throat.

"Tell the fleet to turn 40 degrees to port and go to full burn," he orders his crew. "I think I've found someone who can itch our back for us."

A few moments pass, and then the holotank spins around him. Sometimes having it locked to the ship's bearing could feel odd, but McQueen enjoyed the thrill of the ride. The smile grew broader as he saw the LAM's directly ahead. He turned to the right to look at the 'Kai' to see more armor fall off the ship. She flared as a fuel tank exploded, but her bulkheads held and funneled the fuel outward, "only" leaving an eighth of the ship burned out. But she kept moving forward, keeping pace with her larger cousin and the other two escorts.

"Open a comm signal to Pryde," McQueen orders and it is quickly done. "Do you think you can scratch our back for us Pryde," he asks quickly. "The minnows have a nasty bite."

"Sure thang, Commodore," Pryde responds. "We don't have much fuel left, but if you keep coming our way, we can hit them hard in.....oh.....20 seconds or so."

"Thanks Pryde. I owe you."

"Nothing a meal at 'The Round Table' won't repay," Medron quips and McQueen thinks he might get out of this with a paycheck. "For the Third," Pryde adds on with a smile and McQueen groans. There goes the paycheck, he thinks.

"Understood," he grumps and Medron laughs.


The 'Kai' convulses as another series of explosions rip her flank apart and she falls off course, her engines silent. Fokker watches the UCS tick down the range with anticipation, his finger caressing the trigger eagerly. The UCS was still trying to generate a lock when a barrage of clan-quality particle cannons slash into the enemy fighters, ripping half of them apart.

Then his own UCS locks onto his target and Fokker pulls the trigger, sending a hail of doorknobs downrange at the enemy. It shreds into a million pieces under the barrage and he grins evily. The surviving fighters attempt to pull out of range of their new enemies, but are a lifetime too late. Syphon's LAM fires ER Pulse lasers into one enemy, melting it badly, and another volley of particle cannons from the Zero class LAMs shreds the last of them, some plastech but many of them oldtech.

He looks down in alarm as nearly all of the Zeros shutdown due to heat and gulps. He eyes the sensor grid and lets out a breath as he realize no other fighters are in range to take advantage of the Zeros' predicament.

"Good job, everyone," he hears McQueen say over the task force frequency. "The back of their assault force has been broken. The survivors are retreating. Surviving fighters, look for any wounded who might have survived. We're slowing down so the Knights can land."


McQueen turns away from the holotank and looks at his comm. officer. "Tell the 'Arthur' and 'Merlin' to grapple onto the 'Kai' and tow it over to the 'Righteous Fire.' We need to consolidate and make repairs.

The crewman nods and turns to his duties as McQueen looks out on open space.


"So who wants to be a millionaire," Medron asks into the comm. "We got old clantech fighters on the slide and the FWL WILL pay royalties to anyone who grapples them in."

He leans back and watches 'The Knight's Own' slow to stop in front of him. Shuttles launch out of the bays and pull away from the supercarrier searching for survivors and salvageable fighters. His Zero drifts under the mamoth ship's nose and he looks up in awe. "She's a big motha," he mutters under his breath, then shakes himself and deftly touches his stick. The LAM drifts to the side on spurts of his remaining fuel and aims up on a hanger door.

He moves his hand up and grabs a lever above his head, pushing forward all the way. The LAM transforms around him to end in fighter mode as his other hand reaches forward to switch the transmission frequency. "This is Knight Three Zero-One to landing control requesting landing instructions."

By Medron Pryde uffda...we did it again......;-)

Chop out the part where McQueen looks at the 'Mech and it will work perfectly in the order they are in.....hehehe

By archmore  hope some one is gonna edit these together.
I am begining to really like thes stories.
(and with everyone adding to this story that means that MacAttack has more time to put into the next story.)

By Medron Pryde When I create my new webpage, I plan on it.

Trust me.

not sure when that will be as I have stuff to add to WolfNet (thanks big Mac), a coming (possible) revamp to the looks of PRI (I'm working on it...that doesn't mean I'll necessarily like it), beta testing two progs, and of course acting as the story coordinator for a new MCG campaign.

Oh yeah....and I work too.


Needless to say, my time is getting sparse. Though I just love writting SOOO much.

By Fokker Thanks boss, I`ve been out of town for a couple of days but I knew I can count on you to get me into the story.

And my favorite Shadow Hawk LAM is here...mmm, what more could a MechWarrior ask for?

By Medron Pryde no prob dude. I like to get more then one character in my stories....especially when the one character is me.....;-) I was hoping you wouldn't mind.

You know....with these two stories, plus my own TF story I want to post, that story site is really beginning to get on my mind....hehehe

By 188th Barak Brigade I must say I really prefer Mac's style. This current novel has so many threads its like Tom Clancy's initial chapters gone wild. Liked the reference to the Death Star & the Trekkies, tho. Hopefully CoK will not be too dependant or restricted by the outcomes of Bob Charade's novel. Mac, perhaps you can treat this novel like the storyline behind "Ghost Bear's Legacy".

By Medron Pryde Hey don't look at me....I'm just coming along for the ride here....;-) In all seriousness, there are pros and cons to both story styles. Of course, MacAttack has everything more centralized, but this way you get more stories. Whether that is a good thing or not, I'll leave to you.

MacAttack also seems to have a better grasp of humor then I do. I'm a bit too much of a "serious" writer and it is hard for me to interject humor. I'm not sure how well I've done so far.

The thing is, I really like how this is going with all the little stories going on. Of course, I also like Tom Clancy novels.....hehehe. In general, we are seeing more of each character and more different stories. Of course, if you aren't a Tom Clancy fan, well....oops....;-)

Overall, I like them both....they are different....hehehe.

Medron Pryde

By David Richards (I liked the references Medron. When are the five-eight coming out to play?
This is never intended to cramp Mac's style. Think of this as a side excursion for the Warriors.
For those interested, I've been saving everyones chapters as we've gone along and we've reached chapter 31. Of course, they are rather short, but we've done this in less than a week.

By MacAttack The science of comedy...

Like the use of weapons, mastery is sometimes an uncertain thing.

ToG worked because the BattleTech universe is a target-rich environment.

For the rest, just put it down to my "Python" period...

Don't worry about CoK. Right now I am working on the key plot elements.

ToG was built on two "gags"; the leaders of the Inner Sphere being replaced by Goldfish (required because of the proposed title from the post that started it all), and the climatic swordfight above the custard vats (drowning in custard has got to be the most degrading death possible). Everything else was just pulled in as necessary to build the plot and fill things out.

The key appears to be identifying one facet of the BattleTech universe and "tweaking" it (Clan Kearny-Fuchida drives were a fortuitous combination of letters and Far Country was an obvious target).

The Star Wars references were inevitable given two universes were covered by the same author (and the Phantom Mech ability raised questions as to which the author was "in" sometimes)

Where I think you all will have trouble is tying everything up at the end. ToG was tricky enough (though as I was doing that on a chapter-by-chapter basis it is no surprise that a lack of planning caused some complications).

So like BT authors before me, I will "deal" with what you do to the universe, provided nobody erases the Clans or something :).

All this makes me wonder if Katherine will possibly survive the novels to come. I may not like her, but she is a "good" villain to have (so if she gets killed off in the mainstream books, just remember that in the BT universe there are a lot of doubles out there, and other people don't always stay dead :)).

Now all I have to do is work out how to put an Elvis sighing into the manuscript...

By David Richards

(Editor:  Chapter 32)

Regularcuboid system,
Illicit Enterprise

The Illicit Enterprise had managed some repairs, and was underway to the research facility on Regularcuboid two. Ravezero was frantically trying to whip the ship into shape, and a landing party was being prepared.
Mac was hard at work in the empty engine room, trying to see what could be possibly repaired next, when he saw a man slip around into the chamber. Keeping a hand on his sword, he called out.
"Who's that?" The figure paused, apparently unsure of himself.
"I'm a tourist form... Earth." The Stranger called out.
"You're kidding! I'm from Earth too! Where do you hail from?"
"Er... Scotland... yeah, that's right Scotland."
"No! I'm from Scotland too! Where are you from?"
"Er... North... Kilt...town..."
"No! I'm from North Kilttown too! Do you know Angus Mcdouglas?" asked Mac.
The figure paused, then replied.
"Wait a minute, there's know Angus Mcdouglas in North Kilttown! You're not from Scotland at all!" he accused.
"No laddie, Iam! I am!" replied Mac. Then certain details triggered a reaction in Mac's mind. The detonator the figure was carrying for one. "Hang on... wut are you doing in the engine room!"
The figure tried to run for it, but Mac ran after him and caved the back of his skull in with his sword. He turned the body over, revealing the uniform of a Blakeburger employee.

The landing party gathered in the cargo hold of the dropship, currently holding the 'Mechs to the landing party. Mac's Claymore, js' Axeman, Akira's Phoenix Hawk and Ravezero's Toyama were being prepared for action. So too was Slacker's rebuil Templar. With it's new paint scheme of a red torso and arms, and black body, Slacker would be providing the security detail for this mission.
The wall intercom beeped. Ravezero activated it.
"We're in a low orbit, sir, and we're about to release the Dropship. Crewman Diranged should pilot you down." reported Chrome. "And good luck, sir."
"Thank you, Captain. Good luck to you too. Try not to mess with the Robin Reliant. Ravezero out."
He turned to the others.
"We've had no contact from the facility, so we're not sure what to expect. Stay cautious and keep your eyes open." Ravezero told them. A slight shudder told them the Dropship had undocked.
They were on their way.

By js Hey, I changed to a highly modified Falconer! (I used the interval between books to good effect.)

By David Richards


(Editor:  Chapter 32 -addtional.)

Orbit, Regularcuboid II

"Affirmative Captain Chrome, I am requesting that one modified falconer be transferred to the dropship. Some joker put the wrong 'Mech aboard..."

By js Whew!

By Pyro


(Editor:  Chapter 33.)

Like me. Firestarter Omni to a newly designed Flashman Omni of my own creation.)

15 July, 3082
Blue Dot, Periphery

Pyro lined his fighter up with the hangar bay and drifted slowly in. Several technicians were scattered across the decks in their space uniform, hauling large pressurized tanks of fire foam towards the internal airlooks.

As soon as his fighter's landing gears had touched the ground, Pyro opened the canopy and stepped out, quickly heading for the airlocks as the techs scrambled around. Several other pilots had landed ahead of him, so Pyro simply followed them to the debriefing room.

The smell of burned electronics and smoke assaulted his senses as soon as he removed the helmet, and some portions of hallway he walked through were thoroughly charred. The Clanners had hit the ship hard... the crewmen only just now beginning to get all of the fires under control.

Pyro stepped into the debriefing room with his helmet tucked under his arm. The Admiral nodded in acknowledgement as he entered and sat down with the pilots. Usually the Commander Air Group would conduct the debriefing, but that officer hadn't survived the initial clash with the Clanner fighters. The Admiral began speaking, and discussed the finer points of the mission. When the debriefing usually would have ended, she continued and discussed the newly received information about the attack of the Robin Reliant and the resurgence of Raoul. Pyro though the debriefing would end there, but she continued further.

"I have nominated you all for the Sinclair Wings Medal. Your piloting today saved not only our fleets, but also that of the Free Worlds League from certain destruction. If either of our forces had not risen above and beyond the call of duty today, every last one of us would have died in space."

The pilots stood and cheered at the announcement, then quickly fell quiet as Pyro cleared his throat and rose from his chair in the back of the room. "And with one exception, as Precentor-Martial, I approve of the motion. I cannot award the medal to myself, for the simple reason that I am an active duty MechWarrior, and this is an Aeropilot's medal."

The Admiral scowled. "I figured you would do that, so I already sent a priority HPG message to Tukayyid and received response from the Primus herself. She agreed that it was not fitting to award you with the Sinclair Wings Medal, but on different grounds. For heroism above and beyond the call of duty, risking your life against incredible odds, and playing a critical role in saving a warship from legions of Clan OmniFighters, the Primus has decided, though this is wholly insufficient, that you are to receive the Focht Star of Honor instead."

The pilots around Pyro again broke into applause, cutting off his objections as they formed. Pyro merely nodded and sat down. The battle had only begun. Awarding medals now seemed incongruous... but the Inner Sphere needed heroes... and those of the FWL and ComStar air wings would proudly take their places among those ranks. And whether he wanted it or not, the stunt with the Flashman would make him famous.

The assembled pilots dispersed as Pyro walked through the halls of the ship. The smoky haze had thinned somewhat... and it thinned further as Pyro approached his quarters. Pyro turned the corner...

...and walked face-first into a closed bulkhead. On the other side was hard vacuum. "No! My cat! Oh wait. That's a blessing. DAMNIT! NO! My music disc collection! KHAAAAAN RAAAAOOOOOUUUUUULLLLL!!!!!

By Owens


(Editor:  Chapter 34)

Valley of the Jaks.
Butt Hold
Uninhabited System for All Legal Purposes
Combine-FS Border

The Cataphract exploded unceremoniously behind the Hatchetman. "Okay, Boys," Barnaby spoke into his helmet, "Get ready for the picket, they're coming in much faster this time."

The damn Solaran Mech Stable had smashed through an entire company, and Barnaby was preparing his for the inevitable.

Barnaby took aim at the marauding Hatchetman over Sternmann's Javelin and waited for the crosshairs to shine green. He took aim and fired.

Twin lasers struck the upper chest of the Javelin, in true Owens style, with one beam shooting through the gap left by another, the Javelin experienced severe problems. It's upper torso disappeared in a flash, blowing its carapace to the breeze of the weak atmosphered planetoid.

BBjr maneuvered his Hatchetman through the smoke and rubble left by the passing of the Javelin. Rotating his torso sideways, he passed in between twin Particle beams and paired gauss shells. Pulling his 'Mech into a pirouette, his vorpal blade scythed through the heads of the Centurion and Crusader that stood nearby. Upon completing his 360 degree turn, he halted and used his remaining momentumm to hurl his hatchet at the small cockpit of the recharging Devestator in front of him.

Kolodenko abandoned his regiment in the face of the overwhelming force of the lance of battlemechs. He simply could not believe that the lostech machines had done no damage what so ever to the Solarans. Lostech was, after all, supposed to be superior to all that was fielded in the current era. As ordered the tank crawled its way to the dropship hanger.

"Sucks to be them," BlueJak Ruin thought to himself as he loaded all he could onto his personal Leopard class dropship, Self-Dependent. Underlings loaded up the riches he had amassed over the years of piracy. For a moment, Jak regretted abandoning the small moon to the incoming forces, but in accordance with all conventional logic, he had to leave. The invaders were simply overpowering his forces, even with the assistance of Koldenkos Republican Guards. "Oh, well. It's been fun," he thought as an M1-a1 and it's T-72 escorts pulled up beside the topside hangar doors.

"Moloram to de rom" Malarom chanted swinging towards the helpless Asian girl in the chain coffin. By the power of Kali, the goddess of death and Chancellor of the Capellan confederation, he would end the threat to the reign of death. Sumi's heart began to pound as the Cult Leader's hand decended towards her chest. "No!" She screamed, turning her head....

By Medron Pryde

(Editor:  Chapter 35)

15 July, 3082
Bluedot, Periphery

Medron, Fokker, and Syphon walk into Commodore McQueen's briefing room, bowing formally towards the fleet commander. He motions for them to sit down on the other side of the table and slides a pad over to Medron who picks it up to glance at the information on its screen. He looks back up with a questioning expression.

"We have three operational fighter squadrons across the fleet right now," McQueen utters calmly. "I haven't received a report from our Comstar friends yet so don't know what they have operational. Salvage teams were able to pull in another three squadrons of fighters that could be brought online. Most of those are clantech or oldtech fighters, though they did find one ancient lostech fighter....an Ahab," the commodore finishs. "But for the immediate future, our offensive projection capability is highly limited."

Medron looks down at the table, pondering the information. "What about the 'Kai?' She looked pretty bad off."

"Unrecoverable." McQueen lets out a slow deep breath. "Her reactor rooms are simply....gone. The engine rooms are shredded. The KFC drive is still operational, so we can feed power to her to get her home, but she is useless in any kind of a fight right now."

"Very well," Pryde says, determinedly. "We have to take out the remaining space and ground forces in this system and get any information on them that we can. As soon as the 'Righteous Fire' is back online, we will escort her closer to the planet. Our fighters and whatever Comstar fighters are back online can plow the road for us. Once we enter orbital range, she can launch her assault forces. The Third will escort them down to the planet, through whatever defenders are left, and then help them break through to the primary base.

"The Third doesn't have the strong offensive punch needed to do that alone after all, so we have to make sure the Comstar forces arrive. We need to keep in between the 'Righteous Fire' and trouble at all times."

McQueen nods at the plan slowly. "I understand. I shall talk to her commander to coordinate our plans."

"Excellent," Medron says, standing up. "We need to return to the Third and finish our reorganization. Our losses were not as heavy as yours, but it wasn't exactly a walk in the park either."

"Understood," McQueen returns as the three Knights leave the room. He retrieves the pad and looks at it for several minutes before laying it back down. He turns the chair to look at the repeater screen showing space. He flips through the inputs until it shows a crew of engineers in space suits working to pull another crippled fighter into the ship. He sighs at the sight of the shattered ruin of the cockpit. Then he sees the pouncing Jaguar on the side of the fighter and smiles darkly.

By Brainburner I think some Smoked Kitties are FUBAR right about now. :)

By Pyro

(Editor: Chapter 36)

15 July, 3082
Blue Dot, Periphery

Quickly, Pyro strode across the hangar bay as technicians frantically worked to get some of the most recent fighters hauled in back to operational status. Espescially the Clan and OldTech ones that had been shot up in the naval barrages. Refusing to give up on the rare LosTech, a small team of technicians was even trying to weld together two halves of a shattered Vandal... and oddly enough, appeared to be succeeding. Pyro pretty much ignored the efforts as he climbed into one of the ship's access tubes and sealed the hatch behind him.

Crawling down the access ladder into the bridge, Pyro dropped the last 3 feet to the deck. With the damage throughout the ship, the most direct routes had been cut off. One of the crewmen looked up. "Precentor-Martial on deck."

Quickly, he walked over to the holotank, where the Admiral stood surveying the position. It flickered as the damaged computer fell behind again, but came back to life just as quickly.

"What's our status?", Pyro asked. Admiral Jeana Church shook her head. "Not good. Aft armor's just gone. Sides and fore are still holding. Engines are back up to 3/5 power. We were a lot worse off than that until 30 minutes ago. There's hull breaches in several decks. I'm sure you noticed, I heard your scream from here."

Pyro scowled as she continued. "Weapons power is hovering at about 90%. Which is good enough since only 85% of our weaponry is still functional, and out of the 100 fighters usually carried by the Righteous Fire and our two dropships, just over 2 wings are still functional... a good chunk of those are the Clanners and Oldtechs that we captured or towed in. The techs swear up and down that they'll have another wing ready in two days time. Overall, we're operational. But I damn sure wouldn't want to see combat in this shape."

Pyro nodded as an idea slowly formed in his head. "What about that plastic armor we pulled off the aerofighters."

The Admiral stared in confusion. "What about it?"

Pyro grinned. "There's several hundred tons of the stuff. It may not be nearly as good as what this ship usually uses, but we could use it to plug up the hull breaches and give us a bit of aft armor."

"Of course! Good thinking, sir." She reached down and pressed the intercom button. "Ms. MacArthur, use all that spare plastic armor we have as a temporary replacement for our aft armor."

A fatigued, "Aye." Came from the speakers, then trailed off with some heavily accented mumbling.

Weary from a hard day's worth of fighting, Pyro started for the door. "If the Leaguers contact us, go ahead and work on the plan. Most of what we have to work with is aero and naval anyway, so you know what you're doing." With that, the tired warrior left to find himself a shower and a bed.

By Medron Pryde quick question.....what DOES the Righteous Fire and her dropships carry as far as ground forces go? I'd assumed your 'Mech wasn't the only one.....;-)

By Pyro

I could annoy you by listing it in ComStar structure, but I won't.

Fire Dragon : Vengeance-class. Typical loadout of aeros.

Righteous Fire : Dante II (Think heavily modified w/ extra aerofighter bays.) 60 aerofighters.

Holy Flame : Experimental prototype aerodyne - 36 battlemechs, 12 aerofighters.

I didn't expect to be doing too much ground combat when I only brought one warship and its escort.

By David Richards

(Editor:  Chapter 37)

15th July 3082,
Regularcuboid II

The five 'Mechs plodded around the research station.
"It looks like noone's home..." Mac turned his Claymore torwards Ravezero.
"It does look deserted." Ravezero twisted his mech from one side to the other. The post was set just south of some rocky hills. South of this was a forest. The station appeared empty and abandoned.
"Should we get out and have a look?" Asked Ravezero.
"I'd advise against that." interrupted Akira. "I am meant to be YOUR bodyguard..."
Ravezero gritted his teeth.
"Sir!" js called out other the comlink. "I've found, well, a set of stones arranged as an arrow. It's pointing east." He had no need to answer the unasked question.
"Let's move."

They had been moving due east for about 12 kilometers. The hills had banked away to the north and they had entered the forest. The trees slowed their progress some but not much.
It was then that they fell into a trap.
Slacker's Templar, leading the five, collapsed as it's leg sank through a trap up to it's knee. Small arms fire ricocheted off it, although a lucky shot managed to pierce the crew compartment and stun Slacker.
They were all about to return fire when Ravezero frantically called out.
"Hold fire! I say again, hold fire!"
One look at the whitecoated researchers awkwardly holding rifles betrayed the lack of any real threat.

Ravezero dropped down to the forest floor, freed from the claustrophobic confines of a 'Mechs cockpit. He walked over to the scientists, accompanied by Mac and Akira. He nodded to js.
"Check Slacker and see if he's alright."
He turned to the scientists, headed by a furious Camille.
"And what do you think you are doing?" she asked him coldly.
"It's a mistake!" He protested "I didn't send that message!"
Confusion crossed her face.
"If you didn't, who did?"
"Perhaps I have the answer to that question!" announced a booming voice. They all turned to see a line of elementals in Smoke Jaguar colours.
"GET DOWN!" Yelled Ravezero as they dived for cover. As small arms fire raged overhead the warriors pulled out their sidearms. Well, all but one warrior. Mac had had enough.
"Fire at me will you, you tube-born bas..." He leapt up, pulling out his sword. With one sweep he cleaved one elemental clean in two.
Ravezero turned to Akira.
"On a count of three we'll run to the 'Mechs." he said. He was interrupted by Camille.
"The Starfish device!" She exclaimed, and ran back into the trees.
"Just run for your 'Mech!" ordered Ravezero, before running after Camille. Akira weighed up the consequences, and ran after him too.
He ran into a clearing before dropping to the floor as lasfire flashed over his head. He found himself next to Camille. A star of elementals were keeping them pinned down.
"They've got the..."
She didn't need to finish. Ravezero could see though the trees another star of elementals dashing off carrying a large bulky, fish shaped object. He also saw a dropship descending in the near distance. Akira dashed into the clearing, and he too was forced to dive for cover.
As the last elementals withdrew, one turned and threw an object back. Ravezero flinched, expecting it to be some form of grenade. Instead it was a playback device. He activated it.
"My old friend Ravezero," it began. It was Khan Raoul. "Thank you for leading me to the Starfish device."
"Couldn't he have just followed the sign?" muttered Akira. Raoul's voice continued.
"As a sign of gratitude, I've decided to spare you. Instead, once I have destroyed the Illicit Enterprise, I'll leave you here to rot!"
Ravezero was overcome by anger. Looking up at the sky he shouted out.

By Medron Pryde ROFLMAO

By CodeRed ditto, Medron...man, i wish Raoul could be here to read this.

On another note, sometime in the future (not now, it could get ugly...) we have to have a debate :) on the theory and definition of the UCS


P.S. - whats the difference between fantasy-based UCS and reality-based UCS??

By Owens

(Editor:  Chapter 38)

Mech Bay Access Tunnels, Butt Hold
Uninhabited System for all Legal Purposes
Combine-FS Border

“They’ve broken through the picket line!” The frantic voice scratched over the comm system, “They’re entering the tunnels!”

Soren Tollmann sat patiently in the cockpit of his Rifleman. He knew that the raider ‘Mechs would soon be heading straight for his position. Sandal K. Frill’s Emperor stomped its way up along side, blocking any enemy movement through them. “Here goes nothing. Sandy, think we can take ‘em?”

“I dunno,” replied his wingman, “I’ve haven’t heard a word from Lion Piestool. I don’t know if they’ve damaged them at all, but if they can continue the way they have….” The man’s voice trailed off, afraid of the possible implications on their projected lifespans.

“RRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!” The scream seemed to fill the confines of the ‘Mech Tunnel leading to Butt city, which lay through the blast doors nearly a kilometer behind them.

A fiery explosion silhouetted a Hatchetman that thundered its way down the long corridor. Soren pulled back on the joystick, and watched as his double-barreled-arm like cannon appendages rose in front of the view screen. The green crosshair symbol drifted over the rampaging raider ‘Mech.

“Okay, Sandy, fill this place with flak. I don’t want any of them getting through.”

“I copy,” His partner responded, and immediately the twin ‘Mechs let loose with a violent barrage of weapon fire. Laser beams seared past the slower moving streams of autocannon fire. Soren watched as hits sparked along the ‘Mech’s armor, but the ‘Mech seemed to dodge the vast, vast majority of hurt tossed in its way. He had hit, but as the Hatchetman careened down the hallway he was worried that it was far too little, far too late.

“Intensify forward firepower!” The Hatchetman was less than 100 meters away, and Soren was now the frantic one.

“Too late!” Soren wasn’t even listening to Frills’ retort as the Hatchetman closed to point blank range. Soren instinctively pulled the triggers on his medium lasers, slashing armor off his attacker’s chest, but could not help but watch in absolute horror as the Hatchetman muscled its way in between the Rifleman’s arms.

The last thing that Soren ever saw was a hatchet blade that quickly filled his screen. The wail of grinding metal blotted out his scream.

Molaram’s hand descended to touch Sumi Liao’s chest. With the psychotic look of total insanity in his eyes, his grubby hands pushed back the folds of her shirt, pressing down into the flesh above her heart. Sumi screamed.

Some people believe in God. Some people believe in Gods. Others don’t believe any of it, while yet others find their god in small inanimate objects. Most, however, simply try to make it through life by any means possible, and hope that if there is a God, that he is an okay guy who believes in limiting excessive punishment. For the sake of not inciting a flame war, this topic won’t be discussed in detail.

But Sumi Liao, self-declared atheist, on that day, became a full-fledged believer.

As if a deity was responding to her final scream, a horrendous rumble filled the cavern. Molaram’s trance was broken as he wondered what was happening. A terrible thunder tore through the room, rubble began to fall, stalactites and boulders crushed cultist worshippers on the opposite side of the fire pit.

A secret passageway, constructed to allow only a single man to pass through, was suddenly and irreversibly expanded nearly five times the size. A Cestus appeared though it in a cloud of dust and debris. Its robotic appendages whined as they flexed, allowing the Battlemech to drop to the cavern floor.

Molaram’s fury grew with every passing moment.

By craigtro_McEvedy oman i just sit back read and shake my head with laughter heh heh heh

By Medron Pryde oh wow......ok guys...expect a new thread and a new part of the story to be smuggled out soon. Cause this is taking a while to dl even on my CABLE connection.....;-)

This could be fun....hehehe

By Owens

(Editor:  Chapter 39)

Cheers, Med, fellow FWLer!

RegularCuboid System

Medron slumped back into his command chair.

"God, that was a tough fight," he mumbled to himself.

500 kilometers forward of the 'Knights Own,' a lone warship suddenly materialized out of hyperspace.

Medron hailed the other ship "Hello, is any body there?"

"Allo!" came the French accent of Jay.

Straightening his outfit, Medron began "I am the commander of the Knights of the Innersphere, I say, I must speak with your captain."

"What do you want?"

"My knights and I are searching for a stardestroying machine. We were wondering if your captain would like to join us in our quest!"

"Uhh," Jay hesitated, "I could tell him, but ahh I don't think he'll be very keen...he's already got one, you see!"

"He's already got one?!?"

"Uh....yeah. Now, go away you silly Inner sphere Kaaanigits!"


"Your mother was a hampster, and your father smelt of elleberries!"

"How rude!" Medron was speechless.

"You Inner sphere Kaaanigits! I fart in your general direction," Jay paused momentarily, "Now, go away or I shall have to taunt you a second time!!"

"Wait a moment, what's your warship doing here?"

"None of your buisness, you silly Inner Sphere person!"

"CHARGE!" screamed Medron.

I haven't seen that movie in ages, but something reminded me of it. :)

"Let us not go to Atreus, tis a silly place."

By Brainburner "bring me a busket"

By Brainburner bucket, its supposed to be bucket. I couldn't spell before the pain-medication  :)

By Pyro

(Editor:  Chapter 40)

Miami, Terra
BlakeBurger Corporate HQ

The Primus stared at the video screen with icy eyes and scowled. Her puppet Primus, a frail old man who was selected merely for the purpose of his mystical idiocy's controlling effect on the others, had finally kicked the bucket, thanks to the efforts of an old contact of hers. She had quickly stepped into the position she had been running from behind the scenes, and with a few carefully placed words, had persuaded the entire Word of Blake to follow.

A face appeared on the screen as the Primus sat and stared. "Your Excellency, one of our agents has acquired a copy of the Starfish Device, but there is a slight problem. He jumped into the Blue Dot system and has entered combat with the Knights of the Inner Sphere!"

The Primus of the WoB's face twisted into a mask of rage. "No! If Medron and his Knights defeat that Frenchman, they might trace their orders back to here!" *The Primus balled her fist and smashed his chair's controls, causing it to spin wildly and eject her face-fist into the view screen. As she peeled herself off the monitor, the Primus scowled. "Bring back a shrubbery when you return, or do not bother to come back."

The man on the other end of the comms fearfully saluted, then closed off the link as the Primus turned to one of her aides. "Prepare the Deliverance, we leave immediately."

The aide's eyes widened in shock. "Ma'am, our KFC drive is still untested. It might not work at all."

The Primus stared evilly. "Go say your repair prayers, and prepare my shuttle! We must have this weapon."

The aide scampered off fearfully as the Primus laughed evilly. It had been so easy to bend these fanatical nitwits to her will... and unlike other would-be conquerors, Primus Katherine "Katrina" Steiner did not need malformed plastics to do her dirty work. Instead, she had an army of adoring religious fanatics and a carefully cultivated veneer of being a model Wobblie.

Katherine paced back and forth, chuckling to herself as she saw the pieces of her plan fit into place. She would rule all of humanity whether they wanted it or not. After all, she reminded herself, she knew better what they wanted than they did.

By Medron Pryde I'm going to assume that was a joke......;-)

By Pyro Medron, need I remind you this whole story is a joke  :)


By archmore

(Editor:  Chapter 41)

July 14, 3082
System 110011 (one jump away from Blue Dot)
Space erupts in a flare of light as the Bowman jumps into the system.
As soon as the systems on the jumpship stabilized, alarms began to ring. "We have a contact 1000 kilometers away!"
"Can you get an ID on her?" asked Captian Cantu.
"Working on it now sir." "Ah sir the IFF from her says that she is the Crossbow,a Starwarp class jumpship."
"What! That's impossible the Bowman is the first one built." said the captain.
"Actually the Bowman is the forth ship built." Archmore said as he entered the bridge. "Please hail the Crossbow, I want to know what she is doing here instead of at the homeworld."

Captain Mark Cantu looked at Archmore with a puzzled look on his face as the call went out to the Crossbow.
"Sir we have a reply." said the communications specialist who was wearing a white dress with her hair braided up into buns on each side of her head.
"On Viewer."
"Crossbow this is the Longbow, Major Archmore commanding. What are you doing so far from the homeworld."
"This is Captain Kevin Williams, The military council sent me to meet up with you and to put myself and the units attached to us under your command." said the officer in the hologram.
"What forces do you have on board?" asked Archmore with a concerned look on his face.
"We have a Vengence class full of Phoenix Hawk LAMs, a Overlord with a full Battalion of mechs from the home world, and a Overlord C under the command of Galaxy Commander Deejay Radick of the Pitwolf Galaxy with a full cluster of old clan Omnimechs."
Archmore stood there for a moment with shock on his face at the news of a Cluster of the Pitwolfs being on board the Crossbow.
As he stood there another person entered the holograms area and said "Well met again Archmore."
Archmore looked at his old friend standing there in a Galaxy Commander uniform of the old Wolf in Exile style. "What the heck are you doing here?" he asked.
"It was decided that it was time for the Inner Sphere to know of our existence and your council decided to do the same. "So here we are, at your command."
"Under my command?" Archmore said in amazement.
"Yes under your command." said Deejay "and we brought some techs and some extra crewmen for the jumpships and the dropships."
"Good we can use the extra personnel. I will have Captian Cantu send you a list of the crew that we need. After we transfer the crew we will jump into Blue Dot to rendezvous with Precentor-Martial Pyro and Medron Pryde."
The next day both ships jumped into the Blue Dot system.

(OOC: As the Precentor-Martial Pyro would know all about the Arrows Guards homeworld which is the home world of the descendents of 2 Star League RCTs that were unable to make it back in time for the Exodus)

By Medron Pryde

(Editor:  Chapter 42)


16 July, 3082
Bluedot, Periphery

The crewmember lines up the club, draws back slowly, and taps the golf ball, sending it rolling into the glass jar at the end of the green carpet. "Yes," he crows and puts a hand in front of his competition, palm up. She frowns, laying a 10 C-Bill in his hand, and walks away shaking her head.

Suddenly an alarm goes off and they both look at the comm panel at originates from. He strides over quickly and looks at the board, then turns up the volume and pales slightly. "Oh sh--" He looks at the only other person on the command deck.

"Call McQueen," she says and he nods, hitting the priority transmission button.


McQueen's eyes wrench open at the annoying buzz and he growls in distaste. A hand reaches up to receive the comm. signal. "If this isn't an insanely beautiful woman, I'm hanging up right now," he says, hand hovering over the disconnect button.

"Hang on, sir," a painfully young voice says. "I think you should hear this." The click of a switching circuit comes through the signal and suddenly he hears the transmission that had them nervous. His eyes open wide and he sits up quickly. Too quickly. His forehead meets the bulkhead and an eye popping speed, and he grunts in pain, bringing a hand up to rub it.

"God da---"


"--piece of sh--" The muttered curses continue for a few seconds as the crewman looks at the comm panel nervously. He shares a glance with his partner, but she just shrugs.


"Nnnnnnhhh....I'll be right there," the commodore grumps.

He walks onto the bridge a few minutes later, holding his forehead gingerly. Walking toward the comm panel, he steps on a golf ball, sending it flying across the room, and nearly falls. "Jeez, what's with the golf balls? You trying to kill me," he asks in annoyance, barely keeping his balance. He finishes limping over to the comm panel, and glares at the hapless crewman. "Now what do you know about it?"

"The distress call is coming from the planet," the woman says, trying to pull the commodore's attention from her partner.

"How long?"

"It started six minutes ago, sir," she responds to his terse question.

"Very well. Looks like it is time to prepare."


"Come on you lunk heads!" Fokker's shout echoes throughout the massive bay that second battalion inhabits. "We don't have time to sit around spanking our monkeys! Move it!"

The Knights look at each other in bewilderment, unsure what he is talking about, but they hurry up, putting their flight suits on as quickly as possible before boarding their gold-striped LAMs.


Medron Pryde's fighter, tinged with red stripes, rolls onto the catapult, and pauses as the spacesuited launch crew, locks it in place. They back up carefully, holding glowsticks up straight in the air. They motion for him power up his engines and he pushes the throttle up to a quarter thrust. His engines begin glowing with heat and he watches the power plant stabilize. He nods to the launch crew and they drop the glowsticks to point forward. Medron leans back into the acceleration seat and the catapult lurches into action, dragging his LAM up to exit speed and hurls him from the super carrier.

He feathers the thrust controls and his Zero matches the velocity of the 'The Knight's Own.' On the sensors, he sees more fighters and LAMs launching from the super carrier and the Comstar ships. It was almost time.


Pyro finishes strapping into his Flashman and checks to make sure all the 'Mechs are properly secured. A high-burn entry was rough at the best of times. During combat, when evading enemy fire, it could be a matter of life and death to anyone not strapped down. He tugs his straps to make sure they are firm, and smiles in anticipation. Anticipation laced with unease.

They hadn't wanted to force the battle now, but no one knew when the distress call would be answered, so they had to move now. A dull vibration reaches him in his cockpit and Pyro knows the 'Holy Fire' has just detached from the warship. It was time.


A regiment of enemy aerospace forces rises to meet the three wings of League and Comstar fighters. This time on an equal footing in numbers, the Inner Sphere forces are able to hold the Clan fighters back. Lasers and autocannon barrels flare, melting and fracturing plastic and heavymetal armor.

Medron watches as the furball engulfs the two forces and winces as fighters on both sides fall silent or explode. This time they were close enough to the planet that any fighters dead in space will fall into the atmosphere. Death by burning was a nasty way to go. He reaches to the side and flips a switch. "'Holy Fire,' begin your run," he commands. The engines of the prototype dropship flame into action and it jumps forward like a bat on the run. "Green group, stay with the dropship. Red group, gold group, all fighters follow me." He finishes, slamming the throttle forward, and his LAM leaps into action on a column of flaming hydrogen.


Syphon, flying his green-striped Phoenix Hawk LAM, slashes past the firefight with the 'Holy Fire.' Only one enemy fighter attempts to turn and fire into the dropship, but Syphon makes the pilot think better of that idea with a quick volley of ER pulse lasers. It turns back into the fight, boiling plastic flowing of the right wing. He reorients his LAM with 10 seconds to spare before the invaders reach the atmosphere.

The dropship's nose glows red as she hits the outer atmosphere at full burn, green group all around her. The other LAMs, further out watch for any last ditch fighter defense. It is not long in coming.

A full regiment of air breathers claw for the sky, firing missiles as fast as they can. Red and gold groups turn to engage them and nearly half of the new fighters fall to the ground. They are followed by a handful of LAMs, damaged by missiles and unable to control their swift decent. The rest break through to green group and the dropship. Missile launchers flare with multiple launches from the hull of the 'Mech transport, accompanied by autocannon and laser barrages. Flak rounds explode amongst the air breathers, shredding another half of them, before green group finds the range. The LAMs bring down most of the others with concentrated laser and missile fire.

In the end, only three fighters made it through green group. They turn sharply, far more sharply then the LAMs could ever think to match, and pull in behind the dropship. They volley fire into its rear, and an engine falls silent, blown away. A rear gun emplacement locks on and brings a fighter down with a concentrated burst of autocannon shells. The two survivors wipe the emplacement out and turn to focus on another engine. Syphon finally finishes turning his LAM around and lashes one of the fighters with his ER pulse lasers. The last fighter, seeing the end of the road, slams the throttle forward and jets forward at maximum speed into the rear of the dropship.


Pyro shakes in his 'Mech as alarms erupt inside the 'Holy Fire.' "All personnel prepare for crash landing," the soft computer voice intones on all frequencies. He watches the repeater showing the transport's descent and gulps slowly. She wasn't slowing down fast enough.


Fokker turns to watch the dropship's descent. Smoke pouring out the rear of the ship, she dives steeply down through the atmosphere, her nose a cherry red. The morning sun glints off her flanks, lighting the smoke with unholy red and white highlights, as she drops deeper into the atmosphere. Dropping through the cloud layer, the dropship and her escorts finally see the surface of the planet they are invading.

Finally the breaking thrusters engage, flaming out in front of the transport, and its speed begins to drop. Flaps raise, her nose begins to rise, and she begins to vibrate with the turbulence of the lower atmosphere's wind patterns. Fokker's eyes go back to the rear of the ship where one of the stabilizers is vibrating more then the rest of ship and he gulps, knowing that could be bad.


"I can't hold her," the pilot says, straining at the controls. "I don't have enough breaking thrust without the engines to control the dive," he continues as the vibration through the ship worsens. He reaches up to send another command to balance the vibration as something at the back of the ship starts to bang up and down loudly, the sound echoing throughout the ship. It gets louder and louder each passing second until it reaches a crescendo. "She's not responding to the controls! Whatever's going on back there is counteracting everything I can do up here!"

The screech of tearing metal rips throughout the dropship, and the banging continues, louder but more infrequent. Then with a tremendous screech, the banging ends.


Syphon sees the stabilizer tear away and flutter upward, away from the dropship. Catching the wind, it flares upward quickly, right into the patch of one of green group's LAMs. Slamming into the stabilizer head on at nearly mach 5, it never had a chance. LAM and stabilizer shred on impact, ripping each other apart and leaving nothing but twisted wreckage to fall to the ground.

"Holy mother of god," Syphon whispers.


"I've got it! Whatever that was, I've got control again," the pilots exclaims. "It's too soft but I think I can bring her in now!" Fingers fly over the controls and 'Holy Fire' finally passes horizontal and begins to bank back for a glide. The speed drops below mach 2 and he begins looking for a new landing zone. The old one was well and truly out of the realm of possibility after all. He finds one on the map, near the fortress, and slowly begins turning the damaged ship towards it.

Fingers fly across the controls and the speed drops below the speed of sound, slamming the ground with a sonic boom powerful enough to shatter armored glass. Multiple sets of landing gear lower and lock in place, the dropship finally on course for the new landing zone. He wishes he had full control, but knows he won't get anything better then he has, so makes the best of what he has.

Speed drops below 200 kph and he finally sees the ground as something less then a blur. He frowns as he realizes it doesn't look like it should. Too wet for a good landing area. Too swampy. Realization hits and his eyes lock on the landing zone itself. It looks like the trees were cleared by a swamp fire, leaving it to look like a perfect clearing on orbital sensors. The dropship drops towards the swamp and the pilot runs his fingers across the controls, knowing he can't do a thing about. It was way to late for a course change.

He braces against the console and the landing gears begins to raise back up and watches the ground get closer. "Oh shiiiiii--"


Medron watches the dropship skip off the top of the swamp, come down and skip again, then slam back down a third time into the muck. Mud and water fly in all directions as the ship rushes through the swamp like a bull on the rampage. It finally slows to a stop, it's nose resting on solid ground, on the edge of the swamp and Medron pulls his LAM around to come back in. He reaches up to the transformation lever and pulls it back halfway. The LAM transforms into Air-Mech mode as the speed drops below that which she could otherwise stay aloft at.

Jets in the legs continue firing, holding LAM up as she slowly drifts down towards the open ground. Thirty meters up, he pulls the level back the rest of the way and the nose comes down to the legs. The wings open wide, the arms swing up, and the jets burn all the way to the ground, depositing the 'Mech softly on the grass. More LAMs come down to a landing as the Zero's head turns to look at the dropship.


Pyro shakes his head as ramp under the nose of the ship slowly opens. He powers up his Flashman and the restraints for his 'Mech fall away. A careful step takes him outside the cubicle and he turns to be the first to walk onto the grass at the end of the ramp. He sees Medron's LAM standing there, a massive particle cannon held in each hand, and the comm frequencies crackle to life. "So dude," Medron comments. "Was that ride as fun as it looked from out here?"

The 'Mechs under Pyro's command slowly march out of the downed dropship as he considers his response.

By Fokker Mmm... nice, very nice. Plus I am a GOLD squadron leader. Thanx boss.

By nicholas_kerensky Nice.

By Medron Pryde Pyro....hope you don't me be knocking up your dropship a bit.....;-)

I would have volunteered a League dropship for the knock up....but.....um....there aren't any.....hehehe

By Medron Pryde Actually Fokker...you and Syphon are battalion leaders.....36 LAMs.....but umm.....there aren't that many LAMs left in each of the three battalions.....;-)

By Atticus Longwalker Medron,
One request.. don't write a story in present tense. It should all be in past tense, otherwise, its like being in a AOL chat room.

"He slowly slides her dress ....."

By Pyro

(Editor: Chapter 43)

16 July, 3082
Blue Dot, Periphery

Pyro stepped his OmniMech out onto the boarding ramp, and surveyed the area. A bleak and blasted swamp greeted him, with some kind of fortress far in the distance. Steam rose from the shallow water that they had landed in, water boiling as the ship's overheated hull came into contact with it. The muck in this area had been mercifully light, the firmer ground less than ten feet below the water's surface able to support the weight of the dropship.

Still dazed, Pyro continued forward. "Damn... I'm glad I didn't eat lunch, cause I'd have lost it there." Realizing he'd accidentally broadcast that sentiment to the whole task force, Pyro continued. "Medron, we're down. Landing zone's quite a way from what we planned for, but we're all in one piece. Please advise, over."

While waiting for a response, Pyro jumped his Flashman into the shallow waters and waded around towards the back of the ship to get a good look. Large gashes in the armor and shattered machinery appeared to be the extent of the damage. Few main structural members showed significant warping, thanks to the relatively soft landing. Most likely recoverable, given adequate repair time.

"I say again, no bad guys. Please advise, over.", Pyro continued as he ran a full sensor sweep on the area...

By David Richards

(Editor:  Chapter 44)

Regularcuboid II orbit

"Where is she?" asked Khan Raoul of his subordinates. He stalked the bridge of the Robin Reliant, ready to explode with fury.
"Sir, perhaps we should return to base. We have the starfish device and we are not fully repaired..."
"NO!" Raoul's eyes blazed with anger. "I am not going to let Ravezero get away!" He turned to the crew as a whole.
"Who rebuilt the clan?"
"Who killed the traitor?"
"Who severed the head of the Dugong?"
"Then do not doubt me now! And do not give me cause to doubt you..." Raoul said, looking at his young subordinate in particular. "Now find the Illicit Enterprise!"

The sun was starting to sink beneath the horizon. The 'Mechs had been repaired as best as they could and Slacker had recovered. The researchers were bickering as night drew in, while Ravzero and the other warriors spoke to Camille.
"So... you are the heir to the 'Dugong'." she stated, acidly. She was still not best pleased with what had happened.
"Quite possibly." added js.
"Almost certainly." added Akira
"Temporarily." answered Ravezero firmly.
There was not much more to be said. They could hear the researchers Warner Doles, Cergoroach and Nadine arguing furiously. It appeared to be over copyright law.
Mac spoke up.
"Well," he said in the well known burr of North Kilt Town. "P'haps it is time to be going."
Camille was confused.
"What's wrong with this camp site?" She asked.
"It's not onboard ship." answered Ravezero, before activating a communicator he had, conveniently, upon his person.
"Captain Chrome, are you listening?"
The communicator crackled into life.
"Yes Admiral. The Dropship should be dropping on your position within a minute."
"How are you hiding from Khan Raoul?"
"We'll you know us, Sir. We're hiding in a warp/hyper/sub/spacetime anomaly."
"Which is it. Chrome. Be specific." asked Ravezero.
"Er... I'm not sure sir. The Science officer is arguing with the engineering crew about it." Chrome paused. "Send Mac up soon."
"Don't worry yourself Captain. He's coming up. We all are..."

Ravezero, Akira and js entered the bridge.
"Admiral on deck!" shouted crewman Vano. Ravezero walked to his chair and looked at Captain Chrome.
"Are we ready yet?"
"Should be sir. The Robin Reliant is just coming up over the horizon, and will see us once we leave the anomaly. Sir, I suggest we head towards the asteroid field between the second and third planets."
"Why, Captain?"
"We've been analysing Raoul's actions, and have come to the conclusion that he's two-dimensional."
"You mean he only thinks of two-dimensional tactics?"
"No sir. That he's a two-dimensional character. He's like a carboard cut-out. We think many three-dimensional objects might just confuse him."
Ravezero took this with a pinch of salt. He opened a channel to engineering
"Mac, how's everything down there?" he asked.
"Ach, it's a wee mess. We've noo working KF drive, though I'm working on it mind you. We've our fusion engines. And tell the science officer to leave off my laddies. They're traumatized."
"Very well Mac." he looked over to the grinning David Richards. "Leave the engineering staff alone." he ordered.
So for the time being they were stuck to this system. Chrome's idea was the only one on the table.
"Very well. Mister Diranged, set course twenty-three degrees..."

"There she is!" yelled Khan Raoul in exultation. "We have her!".
"Sir, she is headed towards the asteroid field."
No, this wasn't right. She wouldn't leave orbit unless...
"NOOO!!" Raoul's fist came in contact with a passing crewman. "Ravezero has escaped thr trap. He's onboard."
"Sir!" His young subordinate attracted his attention. "I'm getting a report from New Huntress. There has been a massive Spheroid attack. They have won in space and are assaulting New Huntress herself!"
Visions of operations Bulldog and Serpent swam before Raoul's eyes. It was like as before. All the dreams and hopes of himself and his clan destroyed. And there was one person to blame for all this...
"Pursue her!"
"Sir, but..."
"But no, you Stravag dog! Pursue her now!"
His crew rushed to follow his orders. Raoul looked at the screen and the Illicit Enterprise.
"I'll chase you round Arcadia's moons, Ravezero. I will hunt you till the ends of the universe itself! I shall have my revenge!"

By Owens

(Editor:  Chapter 45)

Butt City
Butt Hold
Uninhabited System for all Legal Purposes
Combine-FS border

A series of clangs grew closer to Butt City. The city, housing some 250,000 people, lay entirely contained within a massive cavern some 6 kilometers beneath the surface of the planetoid. The clangs could be heard by citizens closest to the Mech access tunnels. Many, including Excesstacy, looked at the door as sizmic tremors became more forceful.

The huge metal doors that provided the last line of defense for the city burst open as two battling battlemechs, a Hatchetman and a Nightsky, broke through them. In a whirring display of hand to hand combat, the 'Mechs slashed and parried their way into the city. Dents from Blade against Blade attacks pitted the once razor sharp club weapons. Of the two, the Nightsky seemed to be getting the worst of the fight, continually put on the defensive by crushing blows by its opponent.

The Nightsky's legs brought down a monorail line at the perimeter of the ciudad, sending the medium 'Mech stumbling backwards. Brainburner Junior took advantage of his enemy's momentary distraction and brought the hatchet down on to the Nightsky's shoulder. Lurching backwards, it sprawled against the a five story concrete apartment complex. Another savage attack connected with the pirate 'Mechs right arm, punching the appendage into the interior of the public housing facility. The Nightsky began to drop wearily to its knees as high explosive rounds from the RAC mounted in the Hatchetman's chest lifted it up and back. A millions of fragments of metal and concrete filled the air around the Nightsky.

"Ha ha!" Proclaimed the triumphant boy Mechwarrior as he rotated his ride's torso to find more targets. Uraihka's Panther flew overhead, spilling missile and PPC fire into a lance of remaining pirate 'Mechs. What BBjr saw next threatened to send chills down his spine.


"Jones?!?!?" Molaram's voice, pushed beyond safety limits by intense aggravation cracked.

"No, buddy," The Cestus pilot's voice boomed back, "The name's Joe."

"KILL HIM!!" At that momement, Molaram lost his tenuous grip on sanity. Upon his head he wore a symbolic headdress that signified his rank in the Thuggee faith. The Horned Spidermonkey was a terrible visage, and all knew to obey him.

Black Robed Thuggee Mystics began mumbling out chants, while Katar armed, red robed Thuggee assassins threw themselves at the Cestus.

Joe's 'Mech moved slowly towards the Thuggee worshiping platform on the far side of the volcanic pit. The Cestus found little resistance in the bodies of the scantily clad Thuggee worshipers that covered the side Joe was on. Bodies crunched with a sickening splat, and cries of pain filled the cavern. One unfortunate worshipper was bulldozed by the foot of the Cestus and was sent flyinging head over heels into the pit.

Thuggee cultists flashed with satanic energies as they loosed the energy of the devil upon the oncoming 'Mech. Magic Missles, Delayed Blast fireballs, Cloud Kills, and Power Words Death were all thrown directly at Joe Shmoe's cockpit.

"I'm such a nice fellow," Joe thought, "Why do they all disapprove of me?"

The good news of the situation for Joe was that Magic created to fight in medieval settings worked very poorly against a Battlemech of the 31st century, and inflicted more damage to the Thuggee adherents than to the Warrior 'Mech.

By Brainburner Curiosier and curiosier.....

By Medron Pryde


(Editor:  Chapter 46)

16 July, 3082
Blue Dot, Periphery

Captain Vansen pulled her fighter around to focus on another Jag fighter. A pull of the trigger sent a series of laser beams into her target's fuel tank and it exploded in a brilliant fireball. "That's for my parents you artificial bastard," she muttered softly and turned to find another target.

It didn't take long.


"Holy frick!" Medron's exclamation poured over the comms before he could cut it off. "We have Jags inbound at high speed! LAMs to the air. We need to support the lead foots." Medron winced at the expression he'd learned from his cousin as he reached up to grab the transformation lever and pushed it forward halfway.

His other hand grabbed the stick and his feet slammed down on the pedals, igniting the jets in his Zero's legs. The LAM folded forward, its nose rotating up, and the jets on its back fired off as it rose off the ground. The wings locked into position, and he brought his right hand down onto the stick to pull it back, causing the LAM to gain altitude on the flames of its jets.

Looking around, he saw the other LAMs following his leed as the last of the Comstar 'Mechs filed out of the dropship to line up for the battle. He looked north, towards the base, and saw the line of approaching Jag 'Mechs over the nearby tree tops. They would be in range of the dropship in four minutes.

"So boys," he said, flipping the comm over to the Third's frequency. "Who wants to go huntin' for lead foots?" This time there was no wincing at the comment. He meant every word of it.


Lieutenant West swooped in behind Vansen, picking a Jag off her tail with a well-placed volley of doorknobs, and shadowed her as she slammed into another formation of enemy fighters trying to hit the Comstar fighters in the flank.

The Jags scattered like mice at a cat convention and West grinned as he brought another down. Another turn showed him 'The Knight's Own' picking off stray Jags with carefully aimed shots as she skirted the edge of the atmosphere by less then 20 klicks. An alarm sounded and West pulled his stick over, feeling the fighter slam over in time to generate a miss. The volley of missiles, caught in the planet's gravity well, fell into the atmosphere and burned up.

He felt more then saw the explosion behind him as his attacker simply ceased to be. "He almost caught you napping, Nathan," a familiar voice said over the comm.

"Thanks Vanessa," he responded and came about to look for Vansen, wondering where she had gone off to now.


Fokker held his Shadow Hawk LAM at tree-top level as his battalion followed him towards the flank of the enemy forces, leaving behind a trail of flaming trees, ignited by the jets holding them aloft. He flew out of the trees at over 150 kph and smiled as the UCS instantly found a target.

A hail of doorknobs left it a smoking ruin, as the Jags turned to fire on him and the other LAMs. Lasers, missiles, mini-doorknobs, and particle beams sliced into the ground bound enemy mere moments before they returned fire. Four LAMs fell to the ground, wings or legs ripped off by lucky hits, before Medron's force arrived.

Coming in from the exact opposite direction, they had perfect back shots on the Jags and used them to effect. Fokker barely saw the beginnings of the results as he flew over the enemy, but he could imagine what those particle cannons would do to their back armor and he couldn't help but smile.

In ten seconds, the first skirmish was over and a trinary of enemy 'Mechs lay dead on the field of battle along with four LAMs.


Pyro marched his Flashman to the front of the line as the Jags boiled out of the treeline into the clearing that showed the extent of the fire that had burned the swamp. Flame-blackened stumps shattered under the step of the 80 tonne titans as they rushed forward at full speed, and a rifleman next Pyro raised its arms, waiting for the enemy to enter firing range.

"Wait for it," Pyro ordered as the thundering horde approached the waiting line of Comstar 'Mechs.


Commodore McQueen watched the battle intently as the last of Jag fighters tried to destroy as many of his fighters as possible. No quarter asked, no quarter given, they always had fought to the end, he thought. Just like on Huntress. He grunted as visions of that hellish fight came to mind and continued watching the battle as it came to a close. The enemy was finished. Just like last time.

Suddenly an energy wave slammed into his ship from behind, running down the length of it from stern to stem, and moved on to fire fight ahead of him. It crashed into the fighters, sending some of them spiralling out of control into the atmosphere. Others bucked under the torrent of energy, but managed to keep flying.

"Holy sh---" The comment cut off as McQueen's sensor operator looked down at his panel in shock. "Sir....two ships just jumped in dead behind us! One on each side of the 'Fire!'"

"That navigator must have balls of steel," McQueens muttered in disbelief. "Helm, come about," he orders after taking a deep breath. "Weapons, lock onto those ships and prepare to fire."

'The Knight's Own' turned hard, clawing for open space, as her two escorts pulled back to interpose themselves between the carrier and the new threats. "I can't get a lock, sir," the weapons officer said after a few seconds of fingering the controls. "There's too much energy radiating off them. They are fouling the acquisition gear."

McQueen grunted in response. That wasn't what he needed to hear. Not at all. "Very well. Tell me when you have lock," he ordered and the weapons officer nodded, continuing to run his fingers across the controls.


Archmore felt the Bowman shudder through the jump and turned to Captain Cantu. "That felt odd," he said and the captain nodded in return. "Any idea what that was?"

"Every jump is different," Cantu responded, shrugging. "I wouldn't worry too much. Not unless an alarm comes up."

"Can we see what is out there?"

"No. Energy is still bleeding off us. We won't be able to get an accurate plot for another minute."

"Very well," Archmore said in response. "Open hailing frequencies. Let's see if anyone is listening."



Pyro's order cut across the comm channels and the Comstar 'Mechs exploded into action, churning the burned and blackened tree stumps into sawdust beneath their size 40 feet. The LAM's came about for another pass, Medron's group from Pyro's right, Fokker's from the left, and Syphon's force from behind the enemy.

For one moment, everything paused for Pyro. He could see every 'Mech and LAM on both sides in position, ready to fire. For a moment, it felt like he was BETWEEN times, and he could see everything. His past, his present, and his future. He would never know precisely what it was. But a moment later, centuries before he could see everything, the moment was over and the first weapons fired.

The first of many in this new battle.

(Archmore......I missed them the first time...so here they are....looks like they had a rough jump and somehow lost a day in transit....hehehe)

By nicholas_kerensky Here we go again. The board should really open another "Battletech Fiction" section called Tales of the Dropship...

By Atticus Longwalker Medron, thanks for doing the past tense thing and not taking offence to the criticism.

By Medron PrydeIt's no skin off my nose...;-) I've seen books written both ways and I can write both ways. I often like to write in the present tense because if done well it really brings the reader into the action better. Of course, it works best with a first person perspective, not a third person or a "God view" as I was using.

As in all things, it depends on what you like. I can go either way, so no skin off my nose....hehehe

By David Richards I see the rest of the 58th are here...

By David Richards

(Editor: Chapter 47)

16th July 3082
Asteroid field,
Between Regularcuboid II and III

"We're entering the asteroid field sir." Diranged reported.
"Very well. Are they still following us?" Ravezero asked.
"Aye sir, they're following us in." reported Vano.
"Sir, the iron in the asteroids is going to interfere with our sensors." interjected David Richards.
"I'm counting on it interfering with their's too." Ravezero replied. He looked about the bridge. The crew were sombre, but not scared. "Mister Diranged, steer twenty-five degrees down by forty-two starboard."
"Aye sir, twenty-five down by forty-two starboard."
The Illicit Enterprise slipped deeper into the asteroid field...

"Follow her in!"
"Yes, My Khan." his subordinate looked up at him "Sir, the asteroids are interfering with our sensors."
Raoul's grip on his chair tightened. Where was she. She could be hiding behind any of these objects. This area of space was too crowded. Still, Ravezero was cornered. He would not escape this time...

The Illicit Enterprise eased beneath the rolling asteroid, just avoiding a collision with several million tons of rock and ore.
Ravezero sat coiled in his chair. The rest of the crew sat, watching their controls for the slightest flicker of activity.
"Sir!" Vano gasped "The Robin Reliant's dead in front of us!"
"Can she see us?"
"No, I don't think so. No wait, she's turning!" yelled Vano.
"Mister js, fire!" ordered Ravezero.

"Khan! The Illicit Enterprise is dead behind us!"
"Hard port! Now!" Yelled Raoul. At that moment the weapons struck.

The capital lasers and NPPCS struck first, crossing the distance between the two ships near instantaneously. The caressed the Robin Reliant and carved deep grooves into her hull. Several warheads struck next, smashing the hull and crushing several compartments. The Robin Reliant continued it's turn as the Illicit Enterprise glided past it.

"Fire!" ordered Raoul.

The Robin Reliant struck out, it's beams stabbing deep into the wounded ship. The lasers played across the surface of the Illicit Enterprise, finding the chinks in the hull.

"I've only just fixed the bl**dy thing!" bellowed Mac as explosions rocked the jump chamber. He looked his geiger counter.
"EVERYBODY OOT!" he yelled. The engineers dashed out and emergency doors shut behind them. The engineering department looked scarcely less hostile, with explosions rocking the deck, coolant leaks, fires and burnt crewmen staggering away. But it lacked the invisible and lethal menace that now inhabited the jump room...

Consoles shorted across the bridge as the lethal fusillade struck home.
"Hard starboard!" ordered Ravezero. "Get some distance between us!"
"Aye sir, hard starboard." responded Diranged.
The Illicit Enterprise banked over the Robin Reliant and continued away from her.

"Sir, we have lost the Illicit Enterprise again!"
Raoul thumped the side of his chair in frustration...

By archmore >Medron
no problem
you just gotta love misjumps

By nicholas_kerensky Landing in the middle of a battle.

By Owens

(Editor:  Chapter 48)

Butt City
Butt Hold
Uninhabited System for all legal purposes
Combine-FS Border

Brain Burner Junior stared in disbelief at what he saw.

Hovering on jump jet plumes 20 meters above the streets of Butt Hold was a large, black battlemech, the likes of which had not been seen in nearly two years.

"It couldn't be...." he murmered

Its Wings extended, revealing a glowing red horizontal stripe on its head. Although anyone with half a brain knew it was a cockpit, BBjr almost found himself believing that it was the single eye of a some cauldron born creation.

"Hallo. My name is Pachinko Finny," The pilot's voice had a rather creepy sound to it, "You killed my card collecting friends. Prepare to die."

With that, the looming plastic 'Mech swung into decent, PPCs blazing with static fury. BBjr swung his Hatchetman to the left, sending it crashing onto its hip and sliding into a nearby building. The Baalrogs PPCs skewered a nearby qwik-e mart, incinerating soda pop and expired milk.

As the Baalrog swooped past his old position, Junior opened fire with his RAC. Autocannon shells perforated the siding of the office building as the Goldfish 'Mech dove by.

By Atticus Longwalker its nice to see qwikemarts survived, I know what stock I am investing in. :-)

By Pyro

(Editor:  Chapter 49)

Pyro cursed to himself as the strange sensation suddenly fled. The Jaguars had seemed to rise from the swampy mists themselves, quickly appearing all across the sensors. Attacking with terrible fury, the mixed force of Goldfish-era PlasTech Mechs and Clan OmniMechs hit hard.

Activating their UCS systems, the ComGuards quickly rushed into the fray, taking an equal toll on the Jaguar forces. Mechs ran back and forth in a flurry of energy darts, missiles, and belches of autocannon fire as Pyro closed with one of the lead mechs... an old-style Mad Cat which turned and fired its LRM-20's as Pyro mashed the controls for both of his ER-PPC's.

One flight of missiles missed entirely, slamming into the dropship far beyond as Pyro's rapidly dodging mech raced closer. The other flight mangled armor all across the torso of the Flashman Omni, but did little damage. The manmade lightning of Pyro's PPC's hammered into the MadCat's centerline and left flank, both boiling off over half a ton of Ferro Fibrous armor, but barely phasing the Clan mech.

The Clanner fired a barrage of laser fire, as Pyro lit off his jump jets. Only one ER Large Laser caught his mech in the leg, causing it to shed over half a ton of armor. The rest of the weapons fire sailed harmlessly underneath, the MadCat's pilot was simply unable to track the sudden third-dimensional motion just like the rest of his Clan. Landing in the muck mere meters from the MadCat, Pryo unleashed a full barrage of all six of his ER Medium lasers, mauling armor across the torso and left arm of the MadCat with multiple hits. Yet even with the damage he had caused, the MadCat still had at least half of its protection left, even on its most damaged spots.

Heat buildup remained at a tolerable level. The ComStar engineers that had designed the Flashman Omni had outdone themselves on the Primary variant. With 16 Double Heatsinks, the mech was able to cool most of the heat from its two ER-PPC's or six-ER Medium Lasers, even with its five jump jets engaged.

Weapons lights lit up again as the Clan mech fired. The Flashman rocked under the brutal pounding, shedding much of its armor protection under the hellish illumination of two ER Large Lasers and several mediums, Pyro didn't flinch. He knew his mech could take that and much more.

Activating his right-arm PPC along with all of the lasers, Pyro fired again. Three emerald streaks bored deep into the chest of the MadCat, flashing more of its armor into nonexistance as the rest danced across fresher armor. Runnels of molten armor dripped off the machine's centerline as the azure streak from the ER-PPC flash-boiled the remaining armor and melted the gyro housing. Succumbing to the force of gravity, the MadCat fell face-forward into the muck as Pyro turned his Flashman into the fray to find another target as the heat in his cockpit spiked high into the lower red zone...

...only to see the backs of several Smoking Jaguar mechs as they fled in abject terror. The all-metal ComGuard force had wisely targeted the PlasTech mechs first, and shredded them entirely. The remaining old-tech Clan mechs quickly found themselves seriously outgunned as Pyro dueled the Commander's mech. With it out of the picture, their morale shattered, causing them to run like scalded dogs for a line of reinforcing mechs approaching in the distance.

"Pyro to Air Command. Jaguars have been driving out of the landing zone, but reinforcements are on their way. Require air support."

By Medron Pryde

(Editor:  Chapter 50)

16 July, 3082
Bluedot, Periphery

Fokker swooped down on the Jaguar 'Mechs, his autocannon firing salvo after salvo of doorknobs into the enemy. One 'Mech staggered, its leg shattered, only to explode when twin particle beams dug into its ammo bins. Another 'Mech fell back, headless, as yet another lost an arm to Fokker's full auto fire. He released the trigger and pulled up and away from the 'Mechs below, the survivors of his gold group following him up on columns of flame, leaving behind another five 'LAMs that would never fly again.

He watched Medron's red group swoop down for another round of fire at the Jags before pulling away so Syphon's green group could continue the attack. More 'Mechs fell beneath the fire of the UCS-equipped LAMs, and as Syphon's group pulled up and away from the fight, the Comstar 'Mechs found the range.

Moving slowly compared to the LAMs, their fire was far more accurate then the Knights and 'Mech after 'Mech fell to their concentrated weapons fire. Fokker finished his turn, looked at his fuel gauge showing only a quarter tank left, and slammed the throttle forward to come in for another run. He lined up his autocannon on a Jag that appeared to be holding the rest together and squeezed the trigger gently, sending a hail of doorknobs towards it.


"I say again, this is Archmore aboard the Arrow's Guard jumpship 'Bowman.' We are here to support the League and Comstar forces in system. Can anyone hear me?" Archmore turned from the comm station to look out the viewport at the mass of energy still pouring off the jumpship. "What's going on," he asked Captain Cantu, turning to look at him. "This should have cleared up by now."

"I don't know, sir. I'm as mystified as you are."

"Captain!" They both turned to look at the sensor operator, caught by the tention in his voice. "I've got a planetary mass dead ahead! Close."

"How close," Cantu asked.

"Very close, sir," came the response. The man ran his fingers across the board. "Less then a hundred klicks to the surface if my instruments are correct."

"Explain it," the captain commanded, turning to his navigator. The young man's face went white and he stammered for a few seconds.

"Ah.....I ca...can't sir. I aimed us to be here a day ahead of the planet in its orbit. It...it shouldn't be here, sir."

Archmore looked out through the fading energy storm surrounding the ships at the planet slowly beginning to take shape in the viewport. "Yeah....well it is," he commented and Cantu's head snapped up to take in the view.

He turned to the manuevering officer with a snap. "Forward thrusters to full power," he ordered. "Try to back us away from the planet." The officer nodded and his fingers ran over the controls. A second later, the ship began vibrating as the thrusters in the nose came up to full burn.


Commodore McQueen turned away from the fading energy storm to look at his sensor operator. "Well?"

The question spoke volumns and the man gulped. "I've got a possible lock, sir. But I can't tell you if it's the 'Fire' or the new ships."

McQueen grunted and turned back to the viewport to watch the energy flooding all spectrums as it slowly faded away.


Pyro wrenched his Flashman around and squeezed the trigger, caressing his target with a full salvo of lasers. It fell like a puppet with its strings cut and he turned to another target, waiting for his lasers to recharge. Oblivious to his intentions, the Jaguar aimed upwards and blew the leg off a strafing LAM, sending it crashing to the ground in a cloud of dust, natural and artificial.

Pyro snarled as his lasers came to life again, playing over the Jaguar 'Mech, leaving it a shattered wreck on the field of battle.


"This is Archmore calling all League or Comstar forces in system. Can anybody read me?"

"Sir!" Archmore twisted quickly to look at the sensor officer. "We've got movement out there sir. It's big, sir."

"Keep transmitting that," Archmore ordered the comm officer and walked forward towards the viewport. He still couldn't see anything out there even though the energy storm was finally beginning to fade.


"I've got a lock on something, sir." McQueen turned to his sensor operator and the man balked at having his superior's undivided attention. "I'm not sure what it is but it isn't the 'Fire.'"

McQueen nodded grimly, feeling his ship finally pull out of the turn to accelerate towards the newcomers, and raised his hand to give the order to fire.

"I'm picking up a transmission, sir!" His hand stayed up, ready to drop, but he turned to look at her. His expression said she better have a good reason for holding up his command.

By Medron Pryde wow...we did it again....but this time it works perfectly.....;-)

By nicholas_kerensky I thought the UCS was only available with goldfish...

T&T System: ... with UCS...???

By Medron Pryde Just realized that last line doesn't track well....here is a mod for it.

"I'm picking up a transmission, sir!" His hand stayed up, ready to drop, but he turned to look at at his comm officer. His expression said she better have a good reason for holding up his command.

Cheers all....hehehe

By 188th Barak Brigade The advent of the Death Star?

By Medron Pryde Umm....no.....;-)

By nicholas_kerensky There goes BOOM!

By David Richards By the way, Medron, has McQueen recieved a promotion? Where's Commodore Ross?

By David Richards

(Monkey:  Chapter 51)


16th of July, 3082
Asteroid field, Regularcuboid system.

Ravezero stalked the deck, gazing at everyones consoles. A low, red light illuminated the bridge and the smell of shorted electronics was in the air.
"Descend three klicks and roll twenty degrees." he ordered.
"Aye sir, descending threw klicks and rolling twenty degrees" acknowledged Diranged.
Where was she? The Illicit Enterprise and the Robin Reliant had been manuevering around each other for a hour now. They had been moving ever so carefully so that the thrusters would not give them away.
It's a knife fight in a pitch dark room, thought Ravezero.
"Ahead now, gently does it." he commanded. His stomach was rolling with tension. One wrong move and...
"Sir!" yelled Vano. "I think I've got her. She's manuevering around the asteroid at 41 by minus 22 degrees. She's gone again."
Ravezero snapped out commands.
"Steer twenty-three degrees down by forty three degrees starboard. Js, bring all our weapons on line and prepare to fire.
The Illicit Enterprise swept towards the asteroid.
As they moved closer, Ravezero moved to the middle of the bridge, waiting. Every sense was primed.
"She's coming around the asteroid sir! She hasn't seen us."

Beams of azure light swept across the hull of the Robin Reliant, piercing the skin. Then the warheads struck. One by one they came crashing in, smashing holes into the beleagured vessel. One struck the bridge.

Raoul was just watching as they cleared the asteroid when the weapons struck home. Computers shorted as the ship was buffeted. The hull shuddered and creaked and explosions sounded aft. Then the warhead struck the bridge.
The celing and walls imploded, crushing some of the bridge crew. Raoul was thrown hard against the wall, and then debris crashed on top of him.
Raoul moved, and fire played along his legs and ribs, indicating broken bones. He coughed and spat blood out on the floor. The scent of fire assailed his senses.
Pushing the debris off him, he crawled along to where his subordinate lay. Booby lay there, in a growing pool of his own blood, bones protuding from his right arm and his neck twisted. He was dead.
Raoul knew he was dying too. It wasn't meant to finish like this. His men, his Clan, his new beginning destroyed. And the man behind it still alive.
Raoul crawled across to a still functioning console. By sheer effort, he pulled himself up and accessed it. He activated the initiation sequence. A panel slid back, revealing a switch.
He opened communictions with the Illicit Enterprise.
"You have me, my dear friend." he spoke before coughing racked his body "You have me, but we shall die in the embrace of death! I will see you in hell!" Raoul pushed the switch...

By Medron Pryde Give me a break Dave. I've only seen parts of two episodes....ever. The one where that chick when android hunting because of what they did to her parents, and the "pancake episode." And I didn't see all of them.....

I've been searching the internet for character profiles, names, and ranks and all that jazz...;-)

And um.....I never saw nothin' about a Commodore Ross......hehehe

By Owens

(Editor:  Chapter 52)

The Love Boat
Low Orbit above Butt Hold
Uninhabited System for all Legal Purposes
Combine-FS Border

BlueJak Ruin swirled his glass of chamagne, lifting it before his partner, then swallowed it in one shot.

Kolodenko, the aspiring First Dictator of the Free Tikonov Republic sat in a chair across the room, sobbing into his hands.

"It doesn't make sense...the T-72s were lostech...how could they...."

Jak chuckled, then tapped the trunk by his feet. "Well, to hell with it. Those Thuggees gave me enough money for capturing that Oriental chick...I think I'll just retire from the pirating business all together and lead a life of luxury."

Kolodenko looked up at him. "What, don't you care about all the 'Mechs you lost?"

Jak grinned like a cheshire cat. "Well, of course, but those were all stolen anyway. Fiscally thinking, I've walked away with all the valuable parts of this adventure," He nudged the trunk with his foot.

"What are you going to do now?" Kolodenko mumbled, trying hard to think of ways to be as cheerful about the situation as Jak.

"I'm going to invest it," he said contemplatively, "There is this Miami based fast food restaurant franchise...in its three years of existance, its profits have multiplied exponentially. I figure its about time to capitalize on the situation."

"What's the name of it?"

"Blakeburger. I've heard that its run by former Blakists."

"Really? How did that happen?"

Jak tried to remember the history of Blakeburger. "Well, if IIRC, the Blakists were basically penniless after losing to both the Comguards and then the Marik fiasco. With their organization in ruins, and their people on the streets chanting prayers to passers-by for extra change, they built a large enterprize out of their many aspiring hotdog vendors."

Anyway, it doesn't really matter. All I know is that it's a stable market, and I intend to get rich, buy a mansion, have some kids and relax for the rest of my days."

Jak poured and then drank another glass of wine. He smiled complacently thinking of his bright future.....

By archmore boy I hope the com channels start working or I'm a dead, fried, smashed into a planet man
I'm all your Medron....you writing better then I am (just don't forget about the Crossbow and its 40 Phoenix Hawk (Mk 2) LAMS)

By Owens

(Editor:  Chapter 52)

The Catacombs
Butt Hold
Uninhabited System for all Legal Purposes
Combine-FS Border

Bigby's Smashing Fist, crackling with Satanic energy, leapt at the cockpit of Joe Shmoe's Cestus. Immediately following the ringing blow of the Fist was a Swarm of Insects. Spilling their muck all over the view screen, Joe shifted to Heat Imaging to regain his view on the situation before him.

Those dedicated to the expansion of Lucifer himself, also known as Thuggee Magic Users, lay in various writhing shapes along the sacrificial ledge. Lasers reduced even more to crumpled, shriveled husks as the water within them evaporated.

Moloram tossed his Spidermonkey headdress on the floor in rage, cursing Joe with every possible slur he could.

Joe, on the other hand, dropped the crosshairs of the Cestus along the immobile warlock, even though the impact of Tenser's Floating Disk threatened to dislodge his target lock.

"Moloram, this Bud's for you." They were the only words Joe could think of that suited his circumstances. He then squeezed the trigger on his joystick.

Shortly thereafter, basketball sized doorknob hit Moloram at Mach 3.

Needless to say, that was pretty much the end of the story for Moloram. What was left of him couldn't be picked off the floor by a spatula

Years later however, excavators would find a few teeth lodged some 15 meters into the hard rock of the cavern. It would always be a mystery as to how they got there.

By Medron Pryde Archmore....if you want me to write about your dudes (more then the minimal amount I have so far) I'll need to know a bit more then I do now...;-)

What is an MK 2 PXH-LAM for instance? And what other units are there. Two jumpships, how many dropships, what ground and space forces...that kind of jazz. I'd rather not frag up your vision if you know what I mean.....

I have included my e-mail above...just klick on my name...that way maybe I can surprise some people here with what all is there...hehehe

woh...this can't be....am I actually PLANNING something for this story?


By Medron Pryde oops....e-mail is HERE.

By David Richards Medron, you really have to see all of SPAB. The first few episodes are Ok, but then it just gets better and better.
Oh and it helps to see it in the right order. Goo old BBC got the order wrong and shoved the episodes at around about 11.15pm, moving about every week.
Why oh why did they cancel it?
Why oh why have they not cancelled Voyager/X-Files etc etc pretty much everything else that's been on?

By Brainburner Dave thats a question many of us want awnsered.

By HackAttack To go back to my programming skill to cover this...

ShowInProduction = True

While (ShowInProduction)


If (AverageViewerIQ > GoldfishIQ) then
ShowInProduction = False
End if


Anybody want to translate for the rest of the group?

- The Programmer often known as MacAttack

"The hand of the genius of mans mind has set foot upon the moon..."

By David Richards

(Editor:  Chapter 53)

16th July 3082,
Asteroid field, Regularcuboid system

"What does he mean?" Ravezero asked Chrome, Raoul's final message ringing in his mind.
"Sir!" David called out. "I getting very unusual energy readings from the Robin Reliant, it's almost..." Chrome's eyes flicked back to Ravezero.
"The Starfish device!"
Ravezero took the hint.
"Fire on her, quickly!" he ordered js.
js tapped the controls...

A new round of firing commenced upon the Robin Reliant. Warheads smashed home and lasers carved deep into the superstructure. The crippled vessel was on the brink of destruction, when an something rapidly broke free of the shattered ship. The Robin Reliant exploded a moment later.

"Sir! We have an extremely fast object moving away from the wreckage of the Robin. My... Sir, it's moving at a relativistic velocity." reported David Richards.
"Where's it headed?" demanded Ravezero.
"Regularcuboid, sir. The star." reported Vano flatly. "It'll be there in 7 minutes."
"Sir, we have to jump!" said an alarmed David Richards. Some of the crew paled. The chances of a misjump, even with a KFC drive, in the middle of an asteroid field didn't bear thinking about.
"He's right, Admiral." counselled Chrome. In fifteen minutes time there wouldn't be an asteroid field to jump from.
Ravezero flicked the intercom to engineering.
"Mac, how's the KFC drive?"
There was no response.
"Mister Diranged, get us away from here, full speed ahead!" ordered Ravezero. He looked around the bridge, hoping some idea would leap out at him.
David Richards had gone from his post.

"What's going on? Where's Mac?" asked David as he walked into engineering. The enginnering department was a wreck. Engineers, led by Deathshadow, were struggling to fight the fires that had torched their way across the deck.
"He's over here!" yelled Saphrite, away from the smoke. Mac lay pale, a bloody gash across his head.
"He got struck by a falling gantry. He'll be alright, he's just unconscious."
"We need to jump. Sometime about now would be really handy."
Saphrite pointed towards the sealed jump room. Radiation warnings flashed over the doorway.
"Ah." said David. "Ell, I have to go in. And I'll need a radiation suit." He looked at Saphrite. "Yours would fit."
"No way! Are you crazy! Besides, you wouldn't last ten minutes even with a radiation suit."
David looked at his watch.
"I don't think that's a problem."

The bridge crew watched the viewscreen, the ship's cameras focused on the receding Regularcuboid.
"Still nothing from engineering, sir" reported Atticus.
"Seven minutes are up." Chrome reported to Ravezero. Despite the tranquil view of the star on screen, by now it would have been struck. The star would explode outwards. By the time the crew of the Illicit Enterprise would see the impact, it would be almost too late.
"Faster, Mister Diranged..." ordered Ravezero, hoping for a miracle.

"Well thats that then," announced David to Saphrite. "Want a drink?" and he offered a bottle.
"Don't mind if I do." replied Saphrite, taking the bottle and sipping it. After all, the Chief Engineer was unconscious. He asked David a question.
"So, I hear you were once a Blakist?"
"Oh yes. A youthful indiscretion."
"Which faction?"
"Sixth of June." David smiled.
Saphrite's eyes swiveled to the bottle. He then fell backwards.
"You bas..." he slurred as he slipped into unconsciousness.
David pulled the suit off Saphrite, and pulled it on over his uniform. He unsealed the hatch into the drive room, stepped inside, and sealed it behind him.

Ravezero looked at the scrren. It showed the object striking the star. It flared and began to convulse.
"SIR!" Chrome practically yelled. "The KFC drive is on-line!"
"JUMP!" ordered Ravezero as the star shattered...
And in a split-second the Illict Enterprise burst into the Bluedot system.

Saphrite was helped to his feet by Deathshadow. Mac was already up, no injury put him down for long.
Saphrite looked through the hatch into the drive room.
"Where is he? Shouldn't there be a body?"
"Haven't yoo heard the tales aboot people being in drive rooms during jumps?" asked Mac.
"You mean..."
"Aye. He could have been scattered to any part of the universe. Or his constituent molecules could be scattered all across the universe. We'll probably never know."
"Well blow this for a game of soldiers!" said Deathshadow. Or at least that's the polite version of what he said. "We've got a fire to fight!" again, suitably edited.
"Aye," agreed Mac. He was trying to remeber something...

By David Richards Frighteningly true Mac. Did you program the TV executives?
Oh, and of course, remeber is remember. I hang my head in shame...

By Medron Pryde Good one Mac....good one.....;-)

By MacAttack Hmmm.. Though I had the monopoly on vanishing...

"With our backs to the wall and nose's to the grindstone we will march boldly forward!"

By David Richards There's a difference Mac. You're dead, and one with the force. I had little choice about where I was going... or at least bits of me.

By David Richards Thought I'd just repeat. Nothing supernatural about me. Good chance I was vapourized. Or marooned in some forsaken part of the universe.
Essay Question:
Consider, if you were randomly placed anywhere in the universe, the odds of finding yourself:
A) On a planet like Earth, with everything you need to survive.
B) On a hell-world like Venus
C) On a jovian gas giant
D) In the middle of a star
E) In a black hole
F) Or just in the vast area of interstellar/intergalatic space.
Oh dear, this doesn't look like a good career move.

By MacAttack It is worse than that...

Option A has several sub-section...

1) At ground level (as opposed to several feet under in solid soil/rock or several hundred feet in the air).

2) Moving at the same speed and direction as the planets orbital and rotaional vectors.

3) Not inside something like a tree.

4) Not above/in a large body of water.

5) Not above a large vat of custard (you would be surprised how often this can happen).

6) Not in the direct path of a train/car/bus/'Mech/pack of rabid dogs.

By Pyro

(Editor:  Chapter 54.  Random insanity by me, again.)


Marooned in some gods-forsaken part of the universe? I can do that!

16 July, 3082
Blue Dot, Periphery

Pyro turned his mech to face the offender. This time, an all-metal Kit Fox stepped forward. Stabbing the secondary weapons controls sent six emerald streaks at the lighter mech, chopping deep into its chest, collapsing the last of its supports. The mech fell in a heap of tangled limbs as the strange feeling returned.

The sky glowed a strange blue color as time seemed to warp. Pyro felt somehow *OUTSIDE* of himself. Not even in his mech. Seeing the future, past, everything ever. The shockwave passed over, leaving a slightly ill Pyro looking at an expanding white vortex. Amid the swirling chaos, flashing light, and whistling winds, Pyro heard an unmistakable echo.

"Craaaaaaaap!, the echo amplified, and resonated across the battlefield, peeling armor off of already damaged mechs and sending some of the combatants to the ground as a single form appeared against the bright white hole... it was small, and falling quickly.

The echoing voice suddenly became more normal, though still amplified by the unnatural energies of the vortex. "Oh.... Fuuuuuu..." *SPLASH!* The object impacted the water with a tremendous splash as the vortex vanished.

Pyro stared for a second. "Whoa.... cool."

The Smoke Jaguar mechs stumbled to their feet as the Comguards prepared to fire again. With UCS systems functional, the ComGuards had been less susceptible to the high winds, and most of them still stood. Smoke Jaguar mechs stumbled in the mud as the ComGuards Level III exacted a terrible vengeance. One by one, they all dropped.

Pyro marched over to where the object had fallen, and saw a highly singed figure in a radiation suit. He pressed the button for external sepakers. "You are in violation of the laws of space, time, pan-dimensia, probability, and probably Murphy's Laws too. Give me one REALLY good reason why I shouldn't skewer you with an ER-PPC."

By Pyro (Damn, Mac. You read my mind... your post wasn't up when I began this. A hundred or so feet in the air over a large body of water. Heheheh.)

By MacAttack So I was right about the rabid dogs?

"If it walks like a duck, and quaks like a duck, it is a fake."

By Jojo Gorgeous the Invisible Love Monkey So, just out of curiosity, who's the one writing all these stories? I've never really gotten around to reading em, just read a small bit, but from what I DID read I must say you're doin a real good job. Keep up the good work!

By Medron PrydeUm...mister Charade is...we are just...um....translating them...yeah...that's it....;-)

By Brainburner...no ..it's inturpertive(sp) dance...teah, yeah ...thats it...no...its a David cake recipe.....

By archmore Medron let me know if you got my email.
added mine to my name.

By Owens

(Editor:  Chapter 55)

Butt City
Butt Hold
Uninhabited System For All Legal Purposes
Combine-FS Border

The Baalrog spiraled back into the air, coming around for a second pass. BBjr pulled his Hatchetman onto its feet, sending a stream of RAC shells at the Goldfish 'Mech. It deftly dodged the lines of tracers, swooping back down.

The PPCs in the Baalrog's arms lit up with intense static driven fury as particle beams seemed to connect it with the ground.

Junior swung his 'Mech's torso 90 degrees to minimize its target profile. The twin Goldfish beams were instead forced to expend their fury vaporizing cars, streetlights, trash cans, mailboxes and concrete on both sides of the Hatchetman.

As the Baalrog soared back into the air, BBjr realized he needed to take the Goldfish on its own terms. Getting airborne was the only way to bring the flying 'Mech down.

As if answering his problem, a pirate Quickdraw presented itself. Looking to make an easy kill of the distracted Flame Painted Hatchetman, it quickly found itself the target.

Junior dashed the Hatchetman down the street, throwing its fist through the cockpit viewport of the quickdraw.

Using his agile 'Mech fingers, he triggered the Quickdraw's jumpjet peddles.

The Quickdraw shivered as its jumpjets roared and flame spat out its feet. Junior wrapped his 'Mechs arms around the pirate warmachine as it vaulted into the air.

The Quickdraw reached its zenith all to quickly, with its jumpjets cutting out, leaving it hanging in the air for a few moments. Shortly before it plumeted back to the ground, BBjr used the quadruple strength myomer bundles in his 'Mechs legs to push off, giving him a little more hang time.

Swinging the Hatchet in his 'Mechs right arm, he connected with one of the ferro-fiber support beams on the roof of the monsterous cavern, leaving him suspended in the air.

BBjr had never looked down on a city from such a height, and he found the veiw breath-taking.

By Owens

(Editor:  Chapter 56)

Butt City
Butt Hold
Uninhabited System for all Legal Purposes
Combine-FS Border

The Goldfish Baalrog swung around for a third run at the suspended Hatchetman. The muzzles of its PPCs almost melted as the plastic was superheated from the continued beam fire.

BBjr could only watch as near misses exploded the rock ceiling above him. The Baalrog was closing in, and there was no time to lose.

Slowly and methodically, he began to swing his 'Mech back and forth to momentum.

Flying on jumpjet power, the Baalrog screamed in, the range shrinking with every passing second. Its razor sharp bat-like wings were stretched out to their fullest extent, hoping to sever the Hatchetman's club arm and send it falling to the surface far below. Only thirty meters away, the outcome seemed to be inevitable.

But BBjr wasn't about to give him the opportunity. Releasing the hatchet's grip on the metal rafter, the Hatchetman sailed through the air above the Plastic Goldfish 'Mech. Torso twisting in a bizarre display of piloting skill, the 'Mechs actions seemed reminiscent of an Olympic gymnast.

Pulling hard on the joysticks with his hands, BBjr scythed the hatchet around, snagging the Baalrog by the neck.

The action must have startled the Goldfish pilot; he lost control of the flight capable PlasticMech. The Baalrog, with the Hatchetman hooked on its back, tumbled out of the air.

"Jeez!" BBjr screamed as the world spun in circles outside the viewscreen. He realized shortly afterwards that it he who was spinning, not the rest of the world.

“Darn it, he’s good!” Pachinko Finnzy shouted. He wanted to think of all the hells he would like to send this Pilot to, but at the present time he had far more pressing problems at hand.

Pachinko pulled up hard less than 30 meters above the ground. Even with the ‘Mech’s torso right up, the feet of both ‘Mechs scrapped along the asphalt road. With the weight of the Hatchetman on the Baalrog’s back, gaining altitude would be darn near impossible.

Pachinko looked around for other options. When he finally had an idea, he grinned wildly.

BBjr clenched his teeth. He saw the metal and glass skyscraper coming, and he knew there was no way to avoid hitting it due to his position on the back of the kamikaze Goldfish. He squeezed into his best approximation of a fetal position as the Goldfish pushed his clinging ‘Mech into the side of the building.

Hitting such an edifice at roughly 200 kph was not the way Junior wanted to spend his afternoon. Junior felt each steel support beams of 3 floors bang off the top of the Hatchetman’s head and shoulders. His communications gear was torn off by one desk or another, and a direct hit from a steel beam put a spider web-like crack in his viewscreen.

“THIS SUCKS!!” He shouted, trying to use the most forceful words he knew as the Hatchetman erupted from the other side of the building…battered beyond comprehension, but miraculously still had a death grip around the Baalrog’s neck.

By Owens

(Editor:  Chapter 57)

Butt City
Butt Hold
Uninhabited System for all Legal Purposes
Combine-FS Border

The remaining debris spilled off the chassis of the beaten Hatchetman. People in the streets looked up in amazement at the 'Mechs as they hurtled through the air. Smoke and light spilled over from fires elsewhere in the city as underpaid and overworked firefighters tried to contain the damage caused by the still running battle.

At that time, however, BBjr had far more things to worry about. His 'Mech was lit up like a Christmas tree, spots of Green, yellow and red dotted his HUD.

Pachinko Finnzy smiled to himself, planning the coup de gras. Spinning his Baalrog then cutting the Jumpjets, he sent his 'Mech into a high-velocity backwards fall towards a ferrocrete warehouse.

BBjr realized that he would be sandwiched between the Baalrog and the building, but also realized that 2 or 3 seconds was not enough time to do anything about it. He simply clenched his teeth and awaited the inevitable.

The inevitable happened, as Junior had guessed, nearly 3 seconds later. As the Hatchetman hit the wall of the building, the ferrocrete strained to resist the force of the impact. And lost.

Coolant containers cracked, armor plates popped off, and computers were thrown out of alignment. Klaxons blared in Junior's ears as his 'Mech threatened to come apart completely.

Pachinko Finnzy's Baalrog had gotten off lightly; While there was damage to the Baalrog, little of it was critical. Extracting himself from the mess of the broken Hatchetman, the Baalrog accended back into the air, leaping onto the gutted ruins of the sky scraper that the Hatchetman had just smashed.

A feeling of vertigo assaulted Finnzy as his neural impulse helmet tried desperately to stabilize the heavy 'Mech on the damaged structure. He then pulled a large steel beam out of the wreckage with his 'Mech's large hands.

"Now for the final touch," he grinned as he turned the Baalrog to face the downed hatchetman.

"Come on, baby," BBjr coughed in the dark, smoke filled cockpit as he tried desperately to bring the Hatchetman to its feet, "One more time!"

The aluminum roof hesitated when the Hatchetman's head slammed against it. Like the wall, it couldn't resist the strength of a 'Mech; ultimately the Battlemech forced a hole through it. The Hatchetman groaned in protest like a student on a Monday morning as its damaged internal structure strained.

Prying his way out of the Warehouse, the Hatchetman stopped to face down the boulevard. Perched on the top of an office building was the Baalrog, grinder in hand.

The loud static over his transmitter broke long enough for Brainburner Junior to make out a line from the Goldfish Pilot. "Mechwarrior: En Guarde!!"

The final confrontation between the last Goldfish and the Solaris champion had begun.

By nicholas_kerensky What's the time Mr. Goldfish?

By Pyro

(Editor:  Chapter 58)

16 July, 3082
Blue Dot, Periphery

The remaining Smoke Jaguar mechs fled in abject terror as the beat-up ComGuards continued to pour fire in their general direction.

Wearily, Pyro reached for his comms button as MedTechs removed the delerious man in the radiation suit. "All forces, check in."

Damage reports came in from all across the ComStar forces, but to his suprise, losses had been very light. Though almost every mech had some form of severe damage on it, only seven machines had been left inoperable. And of those, four would be easily recovered. Several Smoke Jaguar machines also appeared to be in semi-operable order, most notably, a MadCat with a fried gyro, a headless Masakari, and a slightly scraped up Stormcrow whose pilot had been knocked out from the fall caused by the vortex. Not bad, all in all.

Pyro looked to the far distance as the fleeing forms approached the ancient Castle Brian that the Jaguars had made their home. Again, he realized, the battle was only just beginning. It was going to get a lot worse from here.

By Brainburner I'll say this all of your ritin skills are getting darn good.

By Medron Pryde

(Editor:  Chapter 59)

16 July, 3082
Bluedot, Periphery

Medron watched the Jags run and sighed with relief. "This is Pryde to all groups," he transmitted, pulling around to return to the Comstar force. "Break off. I say again, break off. Let the kitties tuck their tail between their legs." He glanced at his fuel level, showing near empty, and grunted as he approached Pyro's Flashman.

He reached up and pulled the transformation level back. The LAM shifted around him, the nose going down, the shoulders coming up, and the back shifting to vertical, and he slowly lowered to the ground on flaming jets. His feet touched and he bent his knees to take the shock, then stood tall again, his head turning back and forth to take in the Comstar force arrayed before him.

He turned to watch the last of the enemy 'Mech disappear into the tree line and chuckled at their stupidity. The last of red group, whittled down to half their original strength, landed around him on tongues of flame, flaming what little grass had regrown since the fire.

"Pryde, I've got someone here who says he knows you." McQueen's voice cut through Medron like a live wire and leaned back against his seat, pulling his hands away from the throttle and joystick. He was human, not the 'Mech. He had to remember that. He shook his head quickly, and thumbed the switch to return McQueen's transmission.

"Ah....who is it?"

"He says he's someone named Archmore."

"Oh really," Medron said, remembering the Archer piloting Warrior from the Goldfish incident. "Tie him in to this circuit so I can talk to him."

"Yes, sir." Medron heard a quick click. "He's on now."

"Hey Archie," Medron said lazily, relaxing into his seat and half closing his eyes. "How's it hangin'?"

"Fast and loose, Pryde," came Archmore's response. "How about you?"

"Oh, things could be better." Medron's mind raced wondering if this really was Archmore. How could he find out? Inspiration hit and he smiled slowly. "Fokker's got my old LAM. How's yer Longbow doin'?"

"Um....Med. I've always piloted an Archer. And why would Fokker give up his Shadow Hawk for your Phoenix Hawk? I would have thought Syphon would have gotten a better trade."

Medron chuckled at the confusion in Archmore's voice. This didn't rule out something sneaky going on, but he'd take his chances. "Of course yer right. Enough of old times though. I hope you brought along some help. The cat has a real nasty scratch and I want to declaw it."


Lieutenant West eyed the three dropships, what appeared to be a heavily modified Union and two Overlords, with distrust as he and his squadron, the last of the Knight's aerospace fighters escorted the supply shuttles down. Helped escort that is. He scowled as one of the newcomer's LAMs edged into view, hull glowing in the heat of atmospheric entry, beside one of the shuttles.

It was West's mission to bring the shuttles and the new reinforcements down to his companions on the ground, but it was the nature of the reinforcements that bothered him. A coursery look at one of the Overlords had shown it to be one of the Clan refits, complete with a modified Clan Wolf symbol. It had taken him years to track down Kylen after the Clans had invaded and seperated them and, more then most citizens of the Inner Sphere, he highly distrusted anyone linked to the invaders.

It made difference that the invasion had been stopped. They would always be the invaders to West. And the enemy. He watched them warily as he guided his fighter into the lower atmosphere, alongside the shuttles.


Pyro watched the dropships slide into their landing patterns, flaming the dead trees into vapor, as they locked in on their landing zone. Balancing on flame, they simply held there for a minute, then slowly dropped to the ground as the LAMs flew overhead. Their engines slowly spooled down to silence and the first of the LAMs came down. Then the shuttles angled in one by one to land in the straight line cleared by the dropships' engines.

He smiled as they bounced to a landing, each in turn until they were all down. Only then did the last of the LAMs drop to earth and the six Knight fighters pull up to return to space.


McQueen looked out at the two jumpships slowy backing away from the planet. Pretty soon now the Arthur and Merlin would help them to enter a stable orbit around the planet, but for now they simply used the multiple tethers joining them and the other two ships to help them open up the distance.

He glanced at the plot to see the six fighters leave the atmosphere behind and slowly close on the carrier. They were the last of his fighters. He shook his head slowly. Out of a full regiment of aircraft, one squadron was all he had left. A quick grunt escaped his control and he looked over at the 'Righteous Fire.'

The energy surge from two jumpships missing it by less then 30 klicks on either side hadn't done the damaged warship any good, but at least it appeared to be manuevering under it's own control. That was a good thing. A very good thing.

By David Richards

(Editor:  Chapter 60)

16th July, 3082
Bluedot, Periphery

The Illicit Enterprise was a shambles.
"Just tell me what IS working?" demanded Ravezero.
"Communications, life support, thats about it." replied Chrome. He gestured around the bridge, full of smashed and shorted consoles, smashed glass, hanging wires, loose gratings and injured crewmen limping away.
"Sir, I can confirm that we're in the Bluedot system." reported Atticus. "I'm in contact with the 'Knights Own'. It appears that the bulk of the Knights and Comguards are fighting with jaguars on the planet." he paused, listening into the comms. "They're winning so far, but there seems to be an awful large amount of Jaguars. The situation could go either way."
Ravezero took all this in.
"It's not like we're in a position to help..." he said flatly, imitating Chrome's sweeping gesture.
"We could send down warriors in the Dropship..." suggested Chrome. This ship may not work, but the dropship still did. Ravezero considered it. The situation on the ground was still grave.
"Ok, do it. Grab as many 'Mechs and mechwarriors as you need." he ordered. Chrome indicated to js and they left the bridge.
Ravezero looked once more around the bridge. Where to begin?

"Where do you need us Medron?" asked Chrome. The controls reverberated as the Dropship descended through the atmosphere. A hold full of mechs, the Dropship under his hands. Just like old times...

The delerious, singed, rad-suited man was carried on a trolley through the field hospital. As his sanity began to more fully reassert itself once again he began to notice the world about him. The trolley, the ladder they passed under, the black cat crossing their path, the Dropship descending...
His memories returned with a jolt. He grinned at the miracle of his survival. No custard vats, no rabid dogs...
"Whoah! I have GOT to do that again..."  :)

By David Richards Nice save, Pyro
I just dread to think whats going to happen to young David in the Clams of Kerensky.

Jojo, Bob Charade wrote all this, and scattered it across the world. If you, Paramount, Glen Morgan or anyone else wants to sue him, go ahead.

By Owens

(Editor:  Chapter 61)

The Catacombs
Butt Hold
Uninhabited System for all Legal Purposes
Combine-FS Border

Joe Shmoe applied the Cestus' mechanical arms to tear off the door to the metal coffin Sumi had been locked in. Thuggees all around him wreathed in agony. Most of those who had survived the one-side slaughter had booked like bats outta Sian.

Joe reached over, opening the cockpit hatch with his left arm as he picked up the girl with his 'Mechs right hand. Lowering her onto his Cestus' shoulder, she quickly crawled into the cockpit. Joe pulled open the visor to the neural-impulse helmet.

"Hi there!"

It was all he could think of. He saw tears begin to glisten as her eyes locked with his.

"Joe, you came back for me....no one ever.." Her face hardened into the mask that he had come to know all too well. "It's about frickin' time. You ABANDONED me, even though you promised..."

He cut her off. Joe didn't feel like getting into a moral flame war with the girl. Instead he felt like getting out of the fiendish hell hole as fast as possible.

"Why don't we worry about that once we get back to the dropship?" He raised his eyes into his best puppy dog look. "Please?"

"Fine." She looked away indignantly, but then glanced back into the 'Mech cockpit,

"Where am I supposed to sit??"

"Umm..." Joe pretended he didn't know the answer to the question. "On my lap?"

Joe chuckled inside. He had always wondered why in 500 years of BattleMech development no one had ever bothered building a more roomy 'Mech cockpit. Now he knew the answer.

"Fine!" She muttered, climbing in. As he felt her weight drop onto his lap, he smirked. Of course, she would never see it through the helmet visor. Joe shoved the throttle into reverse, and exited through the passage way it had made coming in.

By CodeRed Yeah Joe!! lol


By FokkerYou can bet your a$$ that I would never trade my Shadow Hawk, not even for a Medron`s LAM.

By Medron Pryde

(Editor:  Chapter 62)

16 July, 3082
Bluedot, Periphery

McQueen stood in the holotank to get a good look at the 'Illicit Enterprise,' the massive gashes showing even from this distance, and grunted. He glanced over at the 'Fire,' still trying to come back fully online after the jumpships swamped her with the energy surge of their arrival. As for the jumpships. He turned over to them to see the 'Arthur' and 'Merlin' slowy towing them into a stable orbit. And of course their was the 'Kai' still holding one of the highest orbits possible.

Out of a task force of six warships, one ship was battleready. SNAFU didn't begin to cover the situation.

An energy flare rip space apart in the distance and he frowned in concern. He measured the amount of time it would take the ship to arrive at 1g acceleration. Five hours. Out here on the rim he never thought it might be just a jumpship. Only a warship would have any business in this system.

"This just gets better and better," he mumbled and walked out of the holotank.


Fokker sat beside Medron, watching 'The Dropship' land within a hundred meters of the other dropships, and had to second look at her. It had been two years since he'd seen her last and he'd forgetten just how big she was. No wonder there's only one of her, he thought. No one could afford to make two of her. Her engines, each the size of Leapord class dropship, shut down after burning deep into the topsoil, and he let out a deep breath. He shook his head and wondered how many dropships would be showing up in the future. This was turning into a small colony of ships.

"As I was saying, we have about two regiments right now," Medron said, bringing Fokker's mind back to the matter at hand. "About a regiment of those are LAMs," he continued, nodding towards Archmore. "Thanks to your reinforcements there. We have a slightly battered battalion of Comstar forces," he nodded towards Pyro, "a battalion of the Arrow's Guard, and a battalion-equivalent of Pitwolfs. Now 'The Dropship' is bringing in another regiment so we should be sitting pretty good here."

He put his hand on the map showing the fortress and tapped it slowly. "But this is still going to be hard. We have no idea what they have in there, what fortifications they have, or how many 'Mechs they still have available."

"Excuse me," Archmore interupted. "If things are going to be so hard, why don't we just burn the fortress down around them with warship fire?"

Medron nodded slowly. "Because we don't know who else is out here," he said slowly "For all we know, these Jags are simply allied with a bigger force out here. Whether they are not, we have to find out if there is someone else out here. We can't destroy them, only to be attacked by one of their allies in another two years."

The others at the table nod in agreement and Medron continues with the briefing.


"Sir, the contact has accellerated up to two gees," the sensorman said to Commodore McQueen. "She'll be here in less then two and a half hours."

McQueen bowed his head at the news. "Move 'The Knight's Own' out to intercept the contact before it reaches the fleet or the planet," he ordered his helm officer.


Ravezero turned his Toyama into the trees and began marching towards the fortress in the distance. Brute force to break down the enemy's resistance might not be the most interesting way to defeat them, but it worked in a pinch, he thought with a smirk as the Warriors of The Dropship arrayed behind him stepped forward to follow his lead.

He hadn't fought in battle with many of the troops here since the Goldfish incident. And some were new to him. Now it was time for everyone to see if this new group of Warriors was as good as the old one.


"We are in position, sir," the helmsman said.

"Hold position," McQueen ordered and looked over at the time-to-intercept moniter. Two hours to go.


"Here they come!"

Slacker jerked his Templar to the right in response to the nameless voice and aimed his doorknob firing RACs towards the Jaguar 'Mechs rushing out of the fortress. He squeezed the trigger and a burst of doorknobs shattered the plastech 'Mech into spare parts. To his side he saw a JagerMech with a FedSuns logo on it's breast take out another enemy 'Mech and a Berzerker beside it take another Jag out of the picture with one swing of its hatchet.

But the Jags weren't going down alone. The LAMs swooped in to fire on the onrushing horde of Jaguars, then pulled away, leaving behind ten of their number ripped out of the air by autocannon and laser fire. A Rifleman next Slacker exploded as a Jag laser found it's ammunition bay, and a Commando lost its head to a Gauss round. He winced at the losses, but lined up on another target and sent another stream of doorknobs down range. The Masakari fell to the ground, its right leg severed at the hip.

By Medron Pryde ew...forgot to double check that before posting...sorry for the typos... :(

By Medron Pryde

(Editor:  Chapter 63)

16 July, 3082
Bluedot, Periphery

Miguel's Uber Urbie Supreme waddled into range of a Jaguar 'Mech and blew its leg off with a concentrated salvo of doorknobs. Beside him, Barak's Rifleman, "The 188th," fired a salvo of lasers and doorknobs into the hapless enemy and it crashed to the ground, dead for the rest of the fight.

Above the battle, Fokker fired another stream of doorknobs into another 'Mech from his Shadow Hawk LAM as he overflew the battle. His two effective companies of LAMs followed, sending lasers, missiles, and mini-doorknobs into the enemies below. He pulled his stick to the side and his gold-striped LAM turned to the left to fly back over the Warriors as another gold-striped LAM exploded in mid-air.

Pyro's Flashman stepped back to brace itself and fired a particle beam into another Jag 'Mech seconds after it reduced one his men into an expanding ball of nuclear radiation. The oldtech 'Mech weathered his assault, and the laser barrage that followed, to turn and unleash more hellfire on Pyro. He took another step to keep from falling and alpha striked his enemy. The heat level rose high in his 'Mech but he saw the Jaguar 'Mech stagger. One more salvo was it would take.


"We can't hold them much longer, sir. Our troops are taking too much damage out there."

"Unleash the secret weapons then."

"But, sir. The Khan wants them saved for the final assault!"

"If we don't use them now there won't BE a final assault."

"Yes, sir. I shall inform the forces. What level do you wish to use?"

"Level One. For now."

"Yes, sir. I will order Weapons Level One now."


Paladin and Wild Ride stood side by side in their twin Wolfhounds, one painted black, the other blue and yellow, firing lasers into a wounded Mad Cat. It fell to the ground, its engine cored, and they looked around at the slowly advancing Warriors and the LAMs buzzing overhead. It was working. Losses were heavy, but the enemy lines were collapsing.


They jerked at the shouted warning to see artillery rounds fly up out of the fortress and down onto the battlefield. Any 'Mech they hit was slammed into the ground by the force of the heavy projectiles. A Griffen near them spun and fell, then an artillery round slammed into Paladin's cockpit and his 'Mech fell back on impact. He shook his head to clear it and saw his cockpit was cracked and a red substance was leaking through.

Intrigued, he reached up, put his finger into the substance, and brought it to his nose to sniff it. It can't be, he thought and took another sniff. Then he experimentally took a taste of it and shook it off his finger.

"I don't believe this," he muttered. "They're givin

By Medron PrydeDumb fraggin' board wiped out the last line...ugh....here it is again...

"I don't believe this," he muttered. "They're giving us the rasberry!"

By Fokker They`re giving us WHAT!?!?"

By Medron Pryde rasberry pie artillery shells....;-)

By EvilTarq Oh dear... Medron Medron Medron Medron Medron...

How COULD you?

*Picks up a trout and beats Medron with it*

Of all the...


oh well

*Gets back into his chimera and goes to sleep*

By David Richards

(Editor:  Chapter 64)

16th July, 3082
Bluedot, Periphery

Orderlies retreated as the sight of a slightly singed man shouting at the doctor.
"You can't just get u..."
"IS there a 'Mech?" he demanded of the doctor, pulling on a jumpsuit.
"Yes, there's some outside. But we still don't know what happened to you..."
"I'm alive. The rest of the warriors are dying out there. Do you expect me to sit back and rest?"
"N..no.." stuttered the doctor.
David turned on his heel and walked out of the filed hospital. Turning around he caught sight of the 'Mechs. Most were scrap, or damaged. Some, however, were largely intact, the mechwarriors having taken the damage. And there, with barely a scratch, was a Raijin...
David checked himself over once again. His incredible streak of luck seemed to be holding. But what would happen when it turned?

Artillery rounds continued smashing down on the warriors. A red mist was thrown up, a mixture of the deadly cargo and blood.
js pulled his 'Mech company back in the face of the withering fusillade. The forest around them was reduced to splinters as the Jaguars pushed forward once more.
The Falconer twisted, snapping off shots into the advancing enemy. The rest of the company continued to plod past him into the clearing.
A Mad Cat pushed forwards. js beat him back with some las fire, and stepped backwards into the clearing. He noticed, with soma annoyance, that his company had stopped dead. He twisted his 'Mech about.
"What do you apes think you're..." he trailed off as he saw the line of hills about them. Starting from the left, star upon star of Jaguar 'Mechs appeared above the ridge line. js would later swear he could almost here drums. One of his company piped up.
"There's THA-SANDS of them!"

By David Richards HEAR drums!
Sorry, I'm getting sloppy.

By Pyro

(Editor:  Chapter 65)

16 July, 3082
Bluedot, Periphery
ComStar Mobile Command Center

A whistle split the air, followed by the sound of shattering glass, and a sizzling sound as the radar displays conked out. A sticky red substance slid down the screen. The radar operator stared in confusion, then looked up. "Sir, we're being jammed."

Pyro stepped up, put his finger in the red stuff, then sniffed it for a few seconds before tasting it. "Raspberry. There is only one Smoke Jagaur would dare give me the raspberry! Raoul!"

The Comms officer looked back. "Yeah, but the message we just got a few hours ago said Raoul was dead... that he was on board the Robin Reliant when it launched the Starfish Device."

Pyro glared at the dead radar screens for a few seconds, then looked up. "Unless... remember that man in the radiation suit? He babbled about having been in Regularcuboid... if Raoul had climbed into the jump systems of the Robin Reliant, the ship's destruction may have had the side effect of shunting energy into the drive... which may have catapulted him to Bluedot as well."

Several Hours Ago,
Bluedot, Periphery

"STAAAAAVAAAAAG!", the vortex echoed as soon as it appeared over the Castle Brian. A single from dropped form the glowing white hole as it closed. "AAAAGGGGHHHHH!" *CRUNCH!*... the figure fell through the roof of the cafeteria... *SPLORT!*... and into a vat of custard being prepared for dinner.

Khan Raoul hauled himself out of the vat moments before the AutoWhisk would have hit him and dragged him under, its frappe setting would have been his undoing. Raoul wiped the custard off his uniform as the Castle Brian's guard dogs surrounded him... all of them foaming at the mouth.

"Freebirth! This is not my day!"


Several minutes later
Bluedot, Periphery, Castle Brian, Medical Ward

Khan Raoul slowly came to as the machines pumped the transfused blood into him... without those machines, he would have died from canine wounds, and the nasty torn-up area on his chest where the 50 needles consisting of his rabies shots had been poked through. An Elemetnal stood over him and informed him of the day's battles.

Raoul sat bolt upright in the bed, only to be pushed back down by the MedTech. Still glowering with rage, Raoul bellowed. "Aff, I approve. Fire the secret weapons, and give them..." *Cue dramatic music* "... the raspberry."

By Owens

(Editor:  Chapter 66)

Tannenburg Homes Complex
Butt City, Butt Hold
Uninhabited System for all Legal Purposes
Combine-FS Border

Ron Limburger was about to cheat on his wife. His blonde secretary snuggled closer to him as the sounds of ordnance detonations grew closer.

"What's that noise? It sounds like a war out there!" The girl asked, trying to move for the window.

"Uhh...Its just kids playing with firecrackers," he tried to say in a dismissal tone.

"Oh, really?" She asked.

"Uh...I mean yeah!" He hadn't counted on her being that, well, blonde.

The ground shook repeatedly.

"Then what about those then?"

"Probably just a bunch of teenagers pumping the bass on their cars."

"Oh," she said.

Getting her to calm down seemed to be becoming a little more troubling than it was worth.

To reassure her, he went to the window, opened it and leaned out, yelling at the imaginary kids in the street.

"WILL YOU KIDS KNOCK....." His voice trailed off.

An enormous metal object filled filled the view from the window. One of its gigantic feet stomped his brand new Smokin' Jaguar convertible into a pancake.


The gigantic ferro-steel monster opened fire with its autocannons, the thunderous staccato booms blotted out the blonde woman's scream.

"Owens, break left!" Shouted Uraikha. The Panther leapt to the right on its jumpjets, while Owens' Wolverine jumped left. The four bursts of automatic cannon fire sent contrails burning through the air in between them.

The Pirate Jagermech had situated itself at the end of a cul-de-sac. Being able to flee no further, the pirate had cut all movement and planned to fight to the death.

Owens and Uraikha returned fire almost simultaneously, sending SRMs, Laser and Particle beams back at the Jag.

The JagerMech was clouded by the thick black smoke that burst out of its torso when the 46 points of damage dished out by the Warrior 'Mechs struck.

It torso twisted involuntarily, and then toppled backwards into the second story of the house behind it. Its decent was assisted by a flattened Smokin' Jaguar convertible that slid out from under its foot like a banana peel in a cartoon.

To Owens, who had grown up on Martigues, a planet in the Grand Duchy of Oriente, a province of the Free Worlds League, the 'Mech resembled a slouching bar-fly drunk.

To Uraikha, the enigmatic warrior, it looked like a heavily damaged JagerMech.

To Ron Limburger, the mujeriego, well, he was a little beyond caring since the JagerMech was sitting on top of him.

To Suzie Kruger, the secretary, it looked as if an anvil had just fallen on top of her boss. Or was it her boyfriend? Or lover? She was so confused!

To Zippy, the Pirate 'Mechwarrior, it looked like it was turning out to be a really bad day....

By Medron Pryde

(Editor:  Chapter 67)

16 July, 3082
Bluedot, Periphery

"Uh....they're already sending them out, my Kahn," the elemental said slowly, shifting his feet like a nervous child before his leader.

"What?" Raoul's voice could have melted 'Mech armor by itself. "I'm the only one who can authorize their use!"

"They......they thought you were dead," the elemental responded reluctantly.

"Bring them to me. Now."

"Yes, sir!" The elemental saluted and turned to walk out the door, a true spring to his step as he left his slightly unbalanced leader's presence. The door shut behind him and he let out a deep breath. He'd survived another close encounter with Raoul. Things just might be looking up after all.


"The HQ's been jammed, boss," Fokker said as he banked his Shadow Hawk LAM over the vehicle and the damaged Flashman standing beside it. "Literally."

"That must stink," Pryde responded over the comms, his voice partially scrambled by the obvious distortion of both particle cannons firing.

"Actually, boss, I'm betting it smells sweet," Fokker quipped as another shell flew down from the fortress and smashed into one of his LAMs. The sticky substance spread all over the LAM as it fell to the ground. The impact sheared a leg off and the nose crumpled as it slammed into a hillock. Fokker winced and pulled back around to return to the battle proper.


"Intercept in one hour, sir," the sensor officer said to Commodore McQueen.

McQueen nodded as he looked at the enhanced 2-D image on his chair's monitor. The other warship, painted all in white with no identification marks, didn't appear very large, but also didn't look like it had the majority of its weapons space filled with empty hangers where fighters should be. It looked familiar, but he couldn't place it. "What is it," he asked his sensor officer.

The officer shook his head slowly. "I'm not sure," he said as he ran his fingers over the panel and a view of the warship showed up on the panel. "It looks like something from the Star League though. That style is hard to miss. The Houses don't make anything like it and you know how ugly the CLAN models are."

McQueen grunted in agreement and the officer continued. "It looks like its been modified though. That's a KFC drive there that has probably wiped out all of her dropship hardpoints. Except for the one that brought in the Overlord of course."

McQueen swiveled the view over to take in the equally white Overlord next to the warship. His eyes narrowed as he looked at the crown of the ship. "That's a Clan variant isn't it?"

"Yes, sir," the sensor officer responded. "Definately Clan."

"Reinforcements then."

"Yes, sir."



Marshal William "Rapier" Kruger's shout carried across the comm channels as his Berzerker sliced the head of another Jag 'Mech off with his giant axe. The JagerMech that had shadowed him throughout the battle shattered the arm of a Kraken that had lined up Rapier's 'Mech and sent it spinning to the ground with a stream of doorknobs. He looked up at the disconcerting optical illusion on the cliffs above and swallowed before slamming his throttle forward.

The Warriors followed at a run.


Khan Raoul held the neck of the insignificant little surat in his meaty hands, slowly crushing it and enjoying the sensation of each crack. The surat jerked and trembled, its feet dangling above the floor, then finally fell silent. Raoul flung it to side and its body bounced off the wall to fall to the floor. He looked at it coldly and kicked it to make sure it dead.

"Apology accepted," he finally uttered in a pleased tone, then turned to the other surat before him. The mechanical device helping him to breath after the accident clicked and wheezed as he took in the abject terror in the man's eyes. "I hope I make myself clear. Only I order the secret weapons into use!"

The coward before him simply nodded and quaked in response, and Raoul grunted in pleasure. He reached up and flipped a switch on a comm panel in the wall. "What is our situation?"

"The enemy is approaching the line of our second level secret weapons, sir," the voice on the other end responded.

"Activate the second level secret weapons then," Raoul ordered and clicked off the comm panel. He looked at the surat cowering before him in disgust. "Come with me," he ordered and began walking towards the door.


Akira kicked down on the foot pedals and his Phoenix Hawk rose up into the sky on its flaming jets, soaring over the few remaining trees to land in a clearing. He pulled up his ER Large Pulse laser and stitched a salvo of laser bursts into the nearest enemy. Smoke poured out of its torso, and the 'Mech turned sluggishly to deal with its new enemy.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw js's Falconer step up and raise its arms towards his enemy. A single massive doorknob erupted from its right arm and slammed into his enemy's right arm. It spun around, unprepared for the massive impact, and js's follow up particle beam caught it square in the back.

The 'Mech simply disappeared as its fusion plant went into overload and exploded before Akira's eyes. He looked in disbelief for a moment at the impossibility of the occurance then grunted. "Damn Stackpole and his novels!" he shouted into the comm. "That's impossible!"


Soltic's camoflage brown Griffen stepped forward towards the fortress and locked in another Jag 'Mech. He caressed his target with a particle beam before slamming a salvo of missiles into it and smiled in anticipation. He looked around at other Warriors marching forward around him. It wouldn't be long before they had breached the walls. He grimaced as another artillery round jammed one of his companions and stepped forward to fire another volley at his enemy.

Suddenly the ground around him exploded and he lost his balance before falling to the ground. He looked out through his blue-tinged cockpit at the sticky substance covering his 'Mech as he tried to move it. His arm slowly moved for a bit, then stuck in location. Another strain resulted in no movement and he looked at the substance closer.

Suddenly it clicked as he remember what it was and he switched his comm to a blanket frequency. "Look out people! They've got Taffy mines!"

By MacAttack So the Warriors of the Dropship are in a sticky situation.

How will they survive?

By Medron Pryde Oh.....I have plans.........;-)

I hope nobody minds me slapping them in here....hehehe....

Everybody...feel free to post whatever you want as far as stories go...just please don't break through into the fortress....that would make things messier for me....;-)

BTW.....what are those little retangular candies? They are seethrough, multiple colors, multiple flavors. Very small, they usually cost less then 10 cents....you suck on them...watermelon and fire are two major flavors, as well as green apple....and um....they are very, very hard...;-)

Just looking for a name because I can't remember it....hehehe

By EvilTarq Jolly Ranchers?

By David Richards YES! Once more someone else gets what was coming to me!
No rabid dogs, no custard vats. I've never got my comeuppance, and I never will... (sound of fate being audibly tempted).

By David Richards

(Editor:  Chapter 68)

1th July, 3082
Bluedot, Periphery

js tracked the movement of a Vulture with his doorknob cannon. Depressing the trigger he felt the recoil as the massive projectile shot forwards towards the target. It caught the Vulture's knee, snapping the leg in two. The Vulture lost it's balance, falling forwards onto the ground. A Taffy mine exploded, trapping the crippled 'Mech.
"MOVE IT, YOU APES!" he bellowed into his Comm. His company was getting bogged down in the minefield. As they advanced, ever ever so slowly, the Jaguars continued to rain fire upon them.
js' old Axeman, piloted by one of his mercenaries, led the advance, plodding across the shattered landscape. His foot fell forwards, and hit another of the dreaded Taffy mines.
"Sir, my foot's trapped!" yelled the panicking pilot. A Cauldron-Born took it's chance and a gauss rifle smashed the cockpit, reducing the unfortunate mechwarrior to jelly.
His company began to hesitate.
"Keep moving!" ordered js. "if you stop, I'll shoot you myself!"
A Raijin jetted down from above, snapping off a shot from it's ER PPC at the retreating Jaguar 'Mechs.
"Hello js. Nice day to be out, isn't it?" The voice was familiar.
"DAVID!" js was stunned. " But you're dead! Or vapourized, or something!"
"Oh no, I made it. And you know what?" asked David rhetorically, sanity slightly slipping. "I'm INVINCIBLE!"
"Er... right." said js. Whatever David had been through would probably require therapy after this was finished. "Then by all means, lead the way..."

By EvilTarq Therapy involving high voltage, therapy involving a lot of screaming, or therapy involving clubs?

Or, for a limited time, all 3 for the price of one; Screaming people beating you with electrified clubs. FUN!

By Pyro

(Editor:  Chapter 69)

16 July, 3082
CSS Righteous Fire
Command Deck

Admiral Church stared at the data feeds coming in from the Knight's Own, cursing as the holotank flickered occasionally from the massive damage done to the ship's computers. A smaller warship hung in space. Various lines of data scrolled across the screen, displaying mass and tonnage.

It fit the profile of an older Star League design, perhaps destroyer class. But it had modifications to it that suggested KFC. ComStar hadn't refitted any of their older destroyers with KFC...

A nagging feeling of doubt crossed her mind and firmly rooted itself. It couldn't be good. But what was it? It wasn't Clan, it wasn't marked.

"Computer, cross-check databases. Check records for any Star League design, destroyer class ships unaccounted for within the past 25 years."

The computer scrolled through several lines of information before settling on one entry... marked as WoBS Deliverance.

"No... this can't be possible..."

The uneasiness clawed deeper. "All hands, battle stations. Prepare to move to support the Knights' Own, we may be in bad shape, but we still have guns."

The ship slowly turned as the engines roared to life. Though working at four-fifths power, the Righteous Fire still had speed comparable or superior to many other warship classes. Plastic armor had been quickly bolted to cover where the old metal plates had been. It would be better than nothing.

"Comms, signal the Knights' Own, tell them that the target is likely hostile." The comms officer quickly picked up the headset. "Righteous Fire to Knights' Own, target is believed hostile, I say again, target is believed hostile. Advise caution."

The ship surged forward, slowly reeling in the distance to the Knights' Own, but far too slow to arrive in time for the opening shots if the target was indeed the Deliverance.

By Medron Pryde Oh you nasty nasty boy.....I never saw that coming....thanks for idea........;-)

By Owens

(Editor:  Chapter 70)

Rundown Factory District, Butt City
Butt Hold
Uninhabited System for all Legal Purposes
Combine-FS Border

The clan of steel against steel had the attention of everyone who happened to be in the area. Excesstacy tossed popcorn into his mouth as he watched the swirling fight take place. The Baalrog and Hatchetman had tumbled their way out of the CBD, through a Near-SouthWest Suburb, and finally came out in the industrial sector. Excesstacy was one of hundreds who had stopped his car on the Skyway, watching as the titanic warmachines duked it out.

"Five bucks on the big one!" Someone to the rear shouted.

"I think I'll put my money on the little one." Excesstacy said.


"Call it a hunch." Exesstacy said with a shrug as he turned back to watch the fight.

The Hatchetman's hatchet slammed home hard against the grinder in the Baalrog's hand. BBjr struggled hard, putting the Hatchetman's weight into pushing back the larger 'Mech. As the Baalrog staggered back, Brainburner Junior cut in with the RAC five, draining the last of its ammo.

The Baalrog executed a beautiful back flip over the volley of shells, its wings extending, slowing its decent. It fired its two arm-mounted PPCs down toward BBjr, who was nibble enough to leap out of their path. The beams blasted into the siding of a rusty old oil refinery, sending black smoke billowing into the air.

BBjr's weary Hatchetman missed a step, sliding to a halt on the ground.

He glanced at his monitors, discovering a veritable cornucopia of problems with his Battlemech. Actuators not responding. Sensors malfunctioning. Coolant leaks, damaged heatsinks. Gyro damage. "This can't go on for much longer," he thought.

Drunkenly, the Hatchetman rose back to its feet. BBjr turned the 'Mech until the Baalrog was in the center of the view screen.

"Die, 'Mech warrior!" Pachinko Finnzy hissed into his Mic. He had not the foggiest clue if the Hatchetman pilot heard him. It wasn't really important. There was only revenge now. And Pachinko Finnzy would have it. Pushing down on his JJ peddles, the Baalrog rushed towards the Hatchetman

"Come...get...some.." BBjr puffed into his mic, equally unsure if his opponent was receiving him. He pushed the throttle forward while hoisting the Hatchet back. The Hatchetman dashed straight at the Baalrog.

Joe Shmoe had a tough time seeing around Sumi. As small as she was compared to him, she still took up most of the prime viewing space.

"What's that?" They were the first words she had spoken since they evacuated the Catacombs.

Joe killed the Cestus' speed. He then took off the Neuro-helmet and strained for a better look.

Junior's Hatchetman and the flying Baalrog passed by each other in a second that seemed like a minute.

The Baalrog landed on its feet, while Junior's Hatchetman toppled, sliding to a halt on its knees.

"NO! BBJR!" Joe screamed.

A very startled Sumi yelped as his words hit her smack in the left ear. "A FRIEND OF YOURS?" She yelled back as loud as possible.

Joe didn't answer...

Both 'Mechs were motionless for moments that seemed to stretch on for eternity, both in perfect follow-through poises from their dramatic club swings.

Then the Baalrog began to spew bluish bolts of electricity.

"No, no it can't end like this! I..Can't..Lose! Not now! Nooooo...."

The slice wound through the Baalrogs plastic armor spat unbridled energy. The Baalrog disappeared in a perfectly spherical explosion. The explosion threw little bits of collectable plastic bits miles in every direction.

No one had ever bothered to do research on the impact of longterm UCS usage on the minds of boys BBjr's age. With the UCS engaged, BBjr was a swirling avatar of death itself. An Unstoppable War Machine. As the 'Mech shut down, and his connection with the UCS ceased, BBjr was momentarily afraid that he was returning to being a fragile human being. But that sensation passed as he came to the realization that he had won. The last Goldfish had been baked by several millions of degrees worth of fusion energy.

It was over. BBjr's still youthful, over-taxed mind surrendered to fatigue, and he fell fast asleep.

By Medron Pryde Nice Gundam scene there.....;-)

By craigtro_McEvedy great guys. this is wounderful. now with that said ill go back to my me v.s. me battle from my tales of widow book...heh heh heh. (please survive natasha)(gotta love a warhammer) lol

By Medron Pryde

(Editor:  Chapter 71)

16 July, 3082
Bluedot, Periphery

"Arrow's Guard leader to Pryde. We are refueled and incoming on your position. You may fall back and refuel now." Medron glanced down at the fuel gauge showing near empty and flipped the comm switch.

"Roger, dudes. Keep the kitties busy while we're gone." Another tap switched the comm over to the Knight's frequency as his Zero tipped to the side on flaming jets to turn back to the resupply shuttles. "All Knights, fall back and refuel." He grunted at the scattered responses from his men and slammed the throttle forward.

The jets on his LAM's back flared to maximum burn and he fell back in his seat as it accelerated up to nearly 200 kilometers an hour, leaving the battle lines behind in his haste to get more fuel.


"We just got a signal from the 'Fire' sir," McQueen's comm officer exclaimed. "She did a database search and thinks we might be facing a Wobblie."

McQueen relaxed back into chair, watching the warship and her dropship approach the planet on plumes of flame. "Just what we need," he responded. "TWO enemies rising from the dead to fight us."

"The 'Fire' is starting to move," his sensor officer commented. "She's making a course to meet up with us about two minutes after the projected intercept."

"Good. We could use the help." McQueen taps his fingers on the chair's arm, still watching the ship approaching. A glance through the viewport showed him the thrust plumes, but not the ships, and his eyes returned to the screen on his chair. Another glance to the side took in the projected time to intercept.

Fifteen minutes.


Archmore lined up another target and sent the last of his missiles downrange onto the Jaguar 'Mech. It stumbled back into a taffy mine and fell to the ground, unable to move and he turned to slice the leg off a damaged Uller with his twin ER medium lasers, letting a smirk take over his face. The Jags didn't have much left. He could feel it.

Of course the Warriors weren't doing much better. Whittled down to little more then two battalions effective, he knew the battle would be decided in the next few minutes.

No surrender, no retreat. For either side.

He triggered his lasers and scored another Jag seconds before one of the Pit Wolves wiped it off the face of the planet with a double barreled particle beam blast. He winced as the remains of the 'Mech fell back to trigger another taffy mine.


Raoul strode into the 'Mech bay, confident in his ability to turn back the barbarians. He flipped a switch on the wall and spoke into the commlink. "What is the situation up there?"

"The Warriors have nearly breached the mines, sir," came the response from the technicians manning the fortress's defenses.

"What about the jammers?"

"Those LAMs have taken out most of the launchers!"

Raoul smirked at the obvious fear in the lower-casteman's voice. It was their inferiority that gave him the right to rule and he knew it. "Nearly through the mines? So they are within range of the tertiary weapons gride?"

"Ah....yes, sir."

"Then bring it online. I will deal with those who survive it personnally."

He turned off the commlink before the technician could respond and look up at his Dire Wolf with pride. His gaze rested on the hand placed on the OmniMech's right arm and the weapon it held. How fitting it would be to kill the barbarians with their own barbaric weaponry. He for once would enjoy stooping to their level. There was a certain satisfaction to feeling the enemy die after all that a particle beam just couldn't match.


Wild Ride brought his Wolfhound about and blasted another Jag back into a taffy mine and looked at the fotress's gates less then 200 meters away. He slammed the throttle forward as Ravezero's "Charge!" came over the comms. The Warriors following behind him, he approached the gates at full speed.

Then he saw a weapons turret unfold from the top of wall and point a giant barrel at him. He jerked his 'Mech to the side to see Raverzero's Toyama blow a turret away, then his Wolfhound flew off its feet, hit by a massive volley of shells from the turret. Many of the shells shattered on impact, but some of them got through the armor to shred interior electronics and his 'Mech went silent around him.

One last volley shuddered through his 'Mech and he felt something fly past his cheek to imbed itself in the seat behind. With nothing else to do in his dead 'Mech he turned to dig it out with his gloved fingers and gasped at what he found.

"I don't believe it...now they're shooting jolly ranchers at us!" He slowly unwrapped the small candy and took an experimental lick of it. "Mmmmm, watermelon," he muttered to himself and popped the candy in his mouth to start sucking on it.

By EvilTarq I understand now! I see their grand scheme. If they fail to stop you, they'll cause you all to develop tooth decay!

Ooooo... They are SOOOOOO fiendish...

They probably replaced your toothpaste with whipped-cream squeeze dispensers.

that's just wrong!

By Pyro

(Editor:  Chapter 72)

16 July, 3082
Bluedot, Periphery
ComStar Mobile Command Center

A weary Pyro walked up to the man standing behind the holotank. "Precentor Jacobs, I need you to take over down here. I'm needed on the 'Fire. You can pilot my Flashman since David ran off with your Raijin."

The Precentor nodded. "How are you going to get back?" Pyro smiled. "Easy, but if I told you, you would probably have me restrained and drugged."


Hangar deck of the Holy Flame

As badly damaged as the ship was, the hangar decks on the top deck were nearly pristine. It had been a master stroke of design that the hangar bays were placed on the top of the long, narrow ship. It essentially gave the fighters a short airstrip to take off with in the atmosphere. It could launch its fighters squadron where no other ships could.

Pyro climbed up the ladder to his Jengiz and pulled the canopy shut. Placing the helmet on his head, Pyro quickly activated the hangar doors. Slightly bent inwards from the pounding the ship had taken, the doors sqealed and kicked up a cloud of sparks as they retracted.

Once the doors were clear, Pyro pushed the throttle as far forward as it would go, then activated the catapult. The fighter surged forward across the top deck of the crippled ship, then the ground fell out from under it. Ship ended quickly, and the OmniFighter dipped sharply as he attempted to climb. Pyro thought its rear end was going to drag against the swamp, prematurely ending the trip, but the engine thrust finally caught up. A plume of silver fire shot out the back of the OmniFighter, vaporizing swamp water as it pushed the fighter higher into normal flight.

Precentor Jacobs merely stared as the fighter came less than a meter from slamming into the swamp. "Damn. That guy is crazy."


Atmosphere gave way to space as Pyro found himself staring at the grim picture on his radar. The Knights' Own was burning in hard on a new arrival, and the Righteous Fire struggled to catch up. A bizarre patchwork of white metal and blue plastics formed the ship's armor, a change born of desperation and need.

Pyro's fighter grew closer to the ship, and he angled to land on one of the emptier hangar decks as the controllers indicated he had clearance.


Righteous Fire, Command Deck

Pyro stepped onto the bridge, still wearing his flight suit. "Heard there might be some Wobblies around here. Had to see this for myself. Medron already had control of the situation on the ground, so I figured I would be more useful here."

Admiral Church nodded. "We are going to need every fighter we can get when we finally get close enough to launch."

The ship grew closer to the unknown bogie as Pyro paced back and forth. "Hail them."

By David Richards I think I'd better just take a step back and see where you guys are taking this. Meanwhile, I can have a look at epilogues.

By Medron Pryde Hehehe

Don't worry everyone....this won't go on much longer....only two or three chapter's from me should finish this....maybe one long one......no...prolly one long one and then a short one......

then it will be time for epilogues......;-)

By David Richards or epitaphs ;)

By EvilTarq Either way, we're gonna have fun.

By archmore boy my ammo goes fast....:-) so many targets so few missiles
ok where are all those J-27's?

By Owens

(Editor: Chapter 73)

Zyzyggy Hair Salon & Fake ID Vendors
Butt City, Butt Hold
Uninhabited System for all Legal Purposes
Combine-FS Border

"So I says, 'Girl, you best watch yo self, or I'm gunna bust my boot up yo behind!'"

Sumi stared at her reflection in the mirror as the stylist gave her a makeover.

Joe looked on, perfectly content. With the new outfit and looks, she wouldn't be a neon sign for every half witted Maskirovka or Thuggee assassin.

Owens was sitting back, thinking to himself.

Uraikha was poised as usual, staring aggressively at nothing in general.

BBjr. sat alone. The loss of the Hatchetman had hit him like a ton of bricks. Like losing a loved friend. Combined with it though, the search for his father had not even begun already.

Junior sipped slowly on his Myndo-Cola, with a Toyama dog clutched firmly in his hand. Owens felt sorry for the kid. BBjr had been through a lot for a 13 year old kid. Owens, Uraikha and Joe only hoped that they could be guardians worthy of the job.

Rolie, the blue robed Word of Blake adherent sat watching the news. On the tri-vision set above juniors head.

The stylists voice broke the erie silence. "There you go, sweet heart,"

Sumi Liao stood up as Joe looked on.

Her unkempt hair had been edited down to her shoulders, and instead of red highlights she now had green ones. Along with the natural black of her hair, the combination hinted at Capellan nationalism. She wore loose fitting jeans with a Good Guy (TM) tee-shirt that was several sizes too small. Over the top of her head was a Black baseball cap.

"I look horrible!" she complained

"I think you look, kinda..er...hot.." Joe stuttered, blushing all the way.

Her solid frown momentarily broke into a grin, but as usual receded once again.

Just then, a man walked through the door of the Hair Salon.

"Hello gentlemen.." he was cut off.

"Oh, my God!" Owens exclaimed "STC!"

"SC T," Uraikha corrected.

"Wha.." the man quirked an eyebrow before being cut off by a moody Junior.

"Hey, it is STC!"

"SC T," Uraikha repeated.

"Uh..I don't know what you're talking about," STC-looking man began, "My name's Excesstacy. I saw you guys in battle. I made a lot of money yesterday."

The man grinned like a hyena.

"So," he started again, "What's his problem?"

He pointed at BBjr.

"Oh, he lost his 'Mech." Joe said, looking back over his shoulder. "We're trying to cheer him up."

"Yah know what might help.." the man said. He stared up at the ceiling as if looking for words to say. "A while back, I won one of those walking tanks in a poker game with a Pirate. I've never had the time to use it. You can have it if you want."

BBjr.'s ears perked up, then his head rose, and the sullen mood evaporated.


"Yeah, I think it's called a Thunder Axe TDX-02l, but I forget. It's been a while."

"Oh, boy!" exclaimed a newly invigorated BBjr.

Owens sighed. "All's well that ends well. "

"Um, Mr. Owens.." Rolie's voice seemed far closer than it should have been. Owens turned, finding the Wobblie standing smack in front of him. Rolie motioned towards the Tri-vid

"I'm sorry to trouble you, sir, but my brothers have decided to travel down a very foolish path. Only the will of Blake can save us now. I think I will be taking my sick leave as of right now."

"Okay, okay. Have fun Rolie, may Blake protect you and all that."

The smaller man bowed and darted out the door.

Owens smiled as he looked around the room. BBjr. and this Excesstacy guy were going to go looking at the new 'Mech. Joe and Sumi seemed to be hitting it off fairly well. Rolie would be out Owens' hair for a while. And Uraikha was as...well...Uraikhaish as always.

Owens thought about going home. Not to Martigues, but to Atreus. Compared to Maritgues, Atreus was a paradise. The Food and Family were always on Martigues, but for everything else, Atreus couldn't be beat.

Owens smiled introspectively. "I doubt Med will be giving me my job back, but we'll have to see. He's probably just waiting to give me a lecture about dereliction of duty. I wonder what he's doing right now.

Owens thought hard.

Then the smirk fell from his face.

"Oh, my Lordie!!"

The exclaimation made everyone looked in his direction.

"Everyone to the dropships! WE FORGOT ABOUT RAVE!!"

By Brainburner Owens you crack me up. :)

By Owens

(Editor:  Chapter 74)

16 July, 3082
Bluedot, Periphery

The Warriors of BBjr's lance had found themselves in luck. A passing FS Warship, The 'We Despise: Katherine, Cappies, Clanners, Wobblies and Occasionally Dracs and/or Mariks' had been passing through the system.

Upon hearing their story, the Captain of the Ship made a dramatic U-turn, taking them to the periphery at nearly ludicrous speeds with the help of the KFC drive.

As the MechWarriors of the company raced to their waiting 'Mechs, Excesstacy, Hannah Lee, whose real name of Sumi was being concealed, and the dispossesed Black Dugong 'Mechwarrors were rushed to a sound stage in the bowels of the Warship.

"Hurry, there's no time to lose!" Shouted a technician as the reached the stage area.

"What are we doing?" Excesstacy was puzzled.

The tech turned to Excesstacy as another handed Hannah a microphone.

"It can't be a Jap 'Toon unless there is a girl, preferably Asian, singing an up-beat song in the background during a battle!"

"Isn't that...Japanese Cartoon?" Excesstacy asked.

"Japanimation," Hannah corrected him.

"Anime" One of the Black Dugong Warriors corrected her.

"Shhh!" The Tech was insistent on preparing.

A digital clock counted down as the Warrior's Confederate class dropship began to accelerate away from the WD:KCCWODM.

The technicians voice was the only noise on the stage, "And 5, 4, 3..." His voice trailed off for the last two numbers, while his fingers curled back instead

Bridge officers connected their transmitter to all the Jaguar communication lines.

Hannah began to sing from the script.

"Life is only what we choose to make it...let's just take it...let's just be free..."

By Medron Pryde oh boy...........

Oh and Archmore....the battles been going for a couple hours now.....your ammo didn't go fast at all.....;-)

By Ric Owens - love the name of that FS Warship


By EvilTarq you forgot "And Old-School ComStar"

By Pyro . Owens. :)  Nice warship name. (I think I added the and/or Mariks tag to the end of it a while back when it somehow came up during one of our weirder discussions.)

By Owens Pyro-Yes, yes, the Warship's armor seems to have several patches in it that are vaguely Chippewa shaped :)

ET- Old-School Comstar = Wobblies :)

By Atticus Longwalker Owens,
So you would let a 13 year old boy go off with a man claiming to have a BattleMech worth a couple of million credits, that he is giving said young man, and not question his motives?

By Owens Atti- Only if I'm writing the story :)

By EvilTarq hehehe

By Medron Pryde

(Editor:  Chapter 75)

16 July, 3082
Bluedot, Periphery

"Of all the......" Pyro looked over as Admiral Church's voice trailed off.


"Look at that code sir and tell me if it's what I think it is please," the admiral said, motioning at the characters coming across the monitor. Pyro stepped forward and took in the transmission quickly.

"I'd say it's what you think it is," he said slowly.

"How could the wobblies obtain THAT particular code? We only brought it online two days before the jump out here and its never been used."

Pyro shook his head slowly. "They couldn't," he mutters.

"What should we do then?"

"Whatever it says."


Raoul stalked out of the fortress gate in time to see another Warrior 'Mech jammed. One of the unknown but dangerous new LAMs flew overhead, scorching the ground beneath with the flames from its jets, and blew one of his Jaguar's away with a double particle beam blast. A second later, a jolly rancher cannon ripped its right wing off and sent it falling down into a taffy mine.

In the distance, he saw a paired Berzerker and JagerMech blow another of his warriors away and he raised his left arm to aim at the lighter 'Mech. A single salvo from the four particle cannons in that arm blew the 'Mech off its feet and sent it into another taffy mine. He thought for a moment about taking out the Berzerker too, then saw his real prey.

"MacAttack!" he shouted over the open comms. "I challenge you to a circle of equals. Now!"


"I just decoded a message from the intruder, sir," the comm officer said to McQueen and he turned to her.


"Its a level one code, sir. We're being ordered to let them through to the planet."

McQueen tapped his chair as he looked at the ship on his monitor. "Interesting."

"So what do we do?"

"Well," he commented, pausing for a moment. "We do what it says."


MacAttack pulled his Claymore around to dodge the downswing of the massive sword carried in the right hand of Raoul's Dire Wolf and felt it clip his 'Mech's heel. He stumbled forward and turned to hit Raoul with a backswing. His claymore caught the Jag in the left arm and the Khan stepped back to take in the two shattered particle cannons.

"My shwarts is bigger then yours, old man," he shouted over the comms and stepped forward for another mighty swing of his sword, puffs of dust rising from his 'Mech's feet. MacAttack stepped inside the sword's arc, brought his claymore up high, and chopped down and through the Dire Wolf's wrist, sending the sword and hand flying through the air to dig into the ground thirty meters away.

"That's sword ye idiot," he shouted back at the Jaguar Khan, wondering how someone too stupid to pronounce even THAT correctly could ever have led anything more then a schoolyard riot. He brought his claymore up again, grabbed it with both hands, and brought it down on the Dire Wolf's right shoulder.

The claymore passed through and the arm fell to the ground.


The newcomer and its dropship passed 'The Knight's Own' with less then a kilometer to spare, the glimmering white hide showing off the massive barrels of rank upon rank of capital class weaponry capable of leveling a planet. The warship's engines finally fell silent, the mammoth slowed to orbital speed, and her reaction thrusters, each one the size of fighter, came to life and began pushing her into a full fledged orbital path.

Six mid-sized fighters launched from the small fighter bay emplacement on the top of the warship and turned on flaming drives to escort the overlord class dropship as it entered the atmosphere.


MacAttack weathered the twin particle beams slashing deep into his 'Mech's armor and brought his claymore down in another mammoth swing that split the right arm from Raoul's Dire Wolf. He stepped back away from the Jag 'Mech, now weaponless after his earlier hits that silenced the massive autocannons in its torso. "Yield now. You are helpless."

"Nonsense, 'tis nothing but a flesh wound," came the response.

MacAttack stared at his enemy in shock. He was even dumber then he thought. And considering how stupid he'd originally thought Raoul, that was saying a lot. "I cut yer bloody arms off!" he exclaimed seconds before the assault 'Mech began charging at him full speed.

He stepped aside, dodging his enemies charge, and swung the claymore in a massive blow that took off both legs. The torso of the Dire Wolf flipped through the air to land in the ground right-side-up and MacAttack turned to face the fortress gate. "Idiot," he muttered and began walking towards it.

"Hey, get back here! I'll chew yer bloody knees off!"


"Looks like our fearless leader has finally gone bonkers."

"Yes, sir. What do we do now?"

"All we can do. Active the final defense. Now."

"Sending out the command, sir."


Air boiled over the dropship as it fell through the atmosphere at breakneck speed, escorted by six fighters dwarfed by its massive bulk. Flames burned from its massive engines, sending plumes of smoke roiling through the air to obscure the dropship from all visual sightings.

One of the fighter pilots, clothed completely in the outfit still known as the "biker gang" look, glanced at the landing countdown and grunted. Five minutes to go. He pulled his stick to the side and began circling the dropship as it finally began going straight down to the objective.


The last of the Jaguar 'Mechs still alive lined up in a row and started dancing back and forth, shifting from foot to foot and spinning. The Warriors of the Dropship simply looked in shock at the sight of Clanners dancing in 'Mechs. And then the singing began. Rough voices blared over the comms and out through speakers across the battlefield.

"We're men! We're men in 'Mechs! Big 'Mechs! We are the home guard defending the people's rights!"

The signing and dancing continued and the Warriors just stood their, entranced by the absurdness of it. Medron's LAM stumbled to a landing as he lost control and started to laugh. A jolly rancher turret shredded his 'Mech and dropped it to the ground.

Another Warrior, slack-jawed at the horror of dancing Jags never saw the jamming round coming down from the artillery launchers to slam his 'Mech to the ground. Warrior after Warrior fell to the ground, unable to defend themselves against this insidious attack.


Those on the dropship looked down on the battle below as it slowly lowered itself to the ground. "It is worse then I ever could of imagined," one said and the others nodded in response. They looked up at their 'Mechs and nodded to each other.

It was time.


The dropship settled onto the ground, dust and smoked rising around it on all sides, obscuring it from vision. It's massive engines fell silent and the ramps lowered to the ground with a thud as the first mighty 'Mech stepped out of the transport. A Warhawk painted with the colors of the Steel Viper's Triasch Keshik, it slowly made its way down the ramp as 'Mech after 'Mech followed it.

A Turkina painted in the battle colors of Clan Jade Falcon, a Dire Wolf painted gold and black and adorned with a snarling wolf's head laid their feet on the ground in unison. Two Timber Wolves, one painted grey, black, and blue, the other black and gold, and both proudly showing the symbol of Clan Wolf stepped around them to see their enemy.

Star after star of omnimechs filed out of the dropship, at least one from every Clan, and began marching towards the battle before them, dust stirring with each step. The ground rumbled as scores of clawed feet pounded it again and again and the cloud of dust left the dropship once again impossible to see. The Warriors simply stood there, entranced by the danceline of Jaguar 'Mechs, never even seeing the new 'Mechs.

The Warhawk came to a stop and the rest of the omnimechs followed its lead. It raised its arms to point at the enemy and paused. "Die surats!" Freefall's voice ripped through the comm channels, bringing the Warriors out of their trance, as his weapons fired. One Jaguar 'Mech crashed backwards off the fortress walls and fell to the ground beneath, its torso simply gone.

"Kill them all!" Tel Hazen's shout followed Freefall's shout and his Turkina blew away another Jaguar.

"No mercy for the filthy bandits," Abbas Ahsan chimed in as his Dire Wolf reduced another to its component molecules.

The twin Timber Wolves of Legend Slayer and Frank Vickers sent a wave of missiles boiling down on two more hapless enemies moments before the rest of the omnimechs charged the Jaguar line at full speed. There were no challenges. No one-on-one battles. No honor. No mercy.

They were simply exterminating vermin who had long ago shown themselves unworthy of any honor at all.

By Paladin Woohoo........clans killing the jerkwads.
That's what they get for hittin me with rasberry crap (hate that stuff).


By Abbas_Kerensky/Abbas_Ahsan


(Editor:  Chapter 76)

July, 3082
Bluedot, Periphery

"This is your Khan to any and all available units. We have have enemies on-planet. Clan Warriors of thte DropShip. Mostlty using Wolf colors. Time to show our age-old enemy the fury of the Jaguar. Repeat, all units, devor the Wolves!"

Raoul's call sounded through out the three sub-terranean bases. The Jaguars had plenty of forces left, but only enough warriors to command a fraction of them. For the first time in the history of the Smoke Jaguar, technicians, scientists, and even servants began donning the Elemental armor, loading into the Fightercraft, driving the tanks and vehicles above ground, and sitting in thte cockpits of thte massive BattleMechs that had for so long dominated the battlefields of the universe.

A lone, Elite Elemental Binary that had been placed on standby at the temporary underground Alpha Complex, led the small Cluster of non-warrior forces out onto battlefield. To die, or to succeed for a long lost cause.

By Pyro

(Editor:  Chapter 77)

16 July, 3082
Bluedot, Periphery

Raoul crawled out of the cockpit of his downed mech, spitting foul curses as he looked around the field. Near him, a nearly pristine ComGuard Timberwolf lay on its back, face savaged by LB-X cannon fire.

Climbing onto the mech, Raoul threw the cockpit open, pulled the unconscious pilot out, and threw her off the mech into the swamp.

Climbing into the cockpit, Raoul quickly linked his helmet with the computer and stood. It was not over yet.

Running across the battlefield, he ran over to where Medron's LAM had been downed. Laughing, he carefully lifted his mech's foot.

A couple hundred meters away, the dazed pilot grabbed her communicator. "This is Acolyte-III Erika Carson. Someone stop that Mad Cat, I'm not in it."


About 1 kilometer above the battlefield.

Descending rapidly, Pyro caught the transmission and cycled through the targets. Sure enough, a ComStar Mad Cat was quickly approaching Medron's mech.


"You may yet be victorious today, Medron Pryde, but you will not live to see it."

Medron flipped the comms switch on his console. "You're pathetic."

"Heads up jerka..." The rest of the transmission blurred away as a loud rumble crossed the battlefield and harsh white light filled Medron's viewscreen.

Raoul's mech shifted and fell drunkenly on its side as its left flank and arm sheared away completely, its back armor savaged by the unseen assailant. The foot of Raoul's mech lifted up and away from Medron's prone cockpit and accompanied the MadCat in falling with a terrific crash.

A white aerofighter circled overhead as Medron aimed one of his crippled mech's PPC's at the Mad Cat and cut loose. The beam bored deep into the Mad Cat's centerline, burning through the last of the engine shielding. Raoul's mech vanished in a flash of silver fire as the engine within impossibly exploded.

Riding away on an ejection chair, Raoul laughed as he drifted away from the battlefield on the parafoil. He laughed as it continued to carry him away. Suddenly, a gust of wind blew him sideways.

Raoul cursed as the trunk of a large oak filled his field of vision and grew larger. *Ka-TUNK!* Dazed, Raoul peeled himself off of the downed parafoil and laughed giddily. "I AM INVINCIBLE!"

Right about this time, a familiar pack of rabid mutts appeared around him. "Stravag! This is really not my day!"

By Pyro

(Editor:  Chapter 78)

16 July, 3082
Bluedot, Periphery

Pyro gasped as the heat within his Jengiz soared far past operational levels, shutting down its fusion plant to prevent an explosion. Minus its engine power, the fighter continued to fall as Pyro let loose a string of curses.

The full Alpha-Strike from his energy-loaded Jengiz had failed to kill Raoul's mech, leaving Medron at his mercy, and now he was left roasting in a flying oven. A silver flash brightened the sky as the MagScan told a singular tale. Only one of the mechs was still intact. And somehow deep down, he doubted that it was a savaged LAM.

Distraught over seeing what he believed ot be the death of a respected comrade and friend, Pyro lined up his Jengiz against the line of dancing Smoke Jaguar mechs. Though unpowered, the OmniFighter still had plenty of momentum still. The entire line suddenly looked up from their dancing and cut loose with everything they had.

With only a split second to react, the Jaguar warriors fired everything they had into the air. Impressive clouds of energy, autocannon, gauss, PPC, and missile fire sailed past the fighter, few of them actually hitting. Though with the large volume of fire that had been unleashed, relatively few was more than enough to savage the Jengiz, which wobbled and dropped several dark metal objects against the sky.

The Jaguar warriors looked upwards in terror as they continued trying to maintain their dance. The cluster munitions exploded, creating a cloud of smaller metal objects. The doorknobs rained down across the Jaguar mechs, tearing through the plastic armor of many of them and stunning the pilots within. All appearances of dancing and comedy ceased as the frightened Jaguars stumbled, trying to regain their composure and their grip over the laughing Warriors of the Dropship.

The wounded fighter wobbled and spun out of control, smoking and belching flame as it righted itself moments before slamming into the swamp at high speed, skimming off like a stone. The fighter skimmed several more times before coming to a rest against the shore of a small island.

Somewhat dazed from the landing, Pyro breathed in relief as he opeend the fighter's canopy and stepped out onto the squishy ground. In the distance, a smoky haze kicked up by the cluster bombs obscured the main battle, leaving Pyro to wonder whether or not his diversion had actually worked.

By Owens

(Editor:  Chapter 79)

16 July 3082
Tundra area,
Bluedot, The Periphery

A lone Vulture OmniMech dashed across the ice.

"Jag 3 to base...I'm not picking up anything.."

"Keep looking, Jag 3."

Mechwarrior Roth was angry. Being left out of the battle was a dishonor he couldn't stomach. Just to be out here looking for 'Possible Hostiles.' What a waste of a genetically enhanced warrior.

"Neg, base."

"Aff, Jag 3."

Roth pounded on the arm of his command chair. 'Why can't I be fighting!' He thought violently.

As if answering his prayers, his radar lit up.

"What in the name of Kerensky...I've got heat signals all over the place!"

Suddenly, a huge axe-weilding BattleMech erupted from the ice in front of him.

"Base...It's a Thunder Axe!"

Roth fired off his LRM's, watching as the missles exploded, chipping small bits of armor off the enemies pristine hide.

The Thunder Axe retaliated with a PPC shot that ripped off the Vulture's left arm.

"Base I'm going to need reenforcements now!" Roth watched as the 70 ton battlemech rose on pillars of flame..

The Smoke Jaguar could only watch in horror as the shadow of the 'Mech fell over his cockpit


It was the last word Roth ever said.

By Medron Pryde

(Editor:  Chapter 80)

16 July, 3082
Bluedot, Periphery

Medron rolled his LAM over onto its hands and knees slowly, each movement sending shivers through the wounded 'Mech. He looked down at the shattered right particle cannon and disengaged it from his hand actuator to give him better purchase while standing up.

The machine jerked and whined as first one foot, then the other, lifted it up off the ground. It slowly stood tall and he turned from side to side to make sure everything still worked. Warning lights flickered all over the place and the joints ground in place. "That's not good," he muttered as he looked out on the battlefield.

Clan OmniMechs filed past him, one by one, firing on any Jaguar that showed its face while the battered Warriors collected themselves for the final battle. Half of his monitors shattered by the damage, he turned slowly to look for enemies. His heat trackers located a small pack of objects nearby. A quick look showed the Jaguar Khan surrounded by a pack of rabid dogs and he raised his one remaining particle cannon to lock on the target.

"Die you vat-born bastard," he muttered slowly and squeezed the trigger gently. The particle beam left nothing behind. He turned slowly and began limping towards the fortress gate, half of his jets offline and the wings shredded. The right hip ground alarmingly at each step and he winced in response. "Come on baby, hold together," he muttered again, trying not to feel guilt at pulling the trigger.

The dogs didn't really deserve to die after all, did they?


Frank Vicker's Timber Wolf blew away the gates with a sustained blast of twin lasers and Freefall's Warhawk stepped through them into a new warzone. Lasers and particle cannons fired, turning three vehicles into burning tombs, as weapons fire from dozens of vehicles converged on the space his 'Mech inhabited. Luckily for him, the gunners were bad shots and only a handful of the weapons connected.

Tel Hazen's Turkina stepped through after Freefall and burned down two more vehicles. He was followed by Ravezero's Toyama, battered and out of ammo, but still able to fire its lasers. Another vehicle went up in flames.

By Atticus Longwalker OK, most of you probably know about this site, but I felt it funny and am posting my two favorite translations of this thread
Redneck: <http://www.rinkworks.com/dialect/dialectp.cgi?dialect=redneck&url=http%3A%2F%2Fcgi.steelcommand.com%2Fdiscus%2Fmessages%2F26%2F1465.html%3F992064227>
and Jive:

By David Richards LOL!

By EvilTarq new clan omnifighter: Daisygiz

By Medron Pryde

(Editor:  Chapter 81)

16 July, 3082
Bluedot, Periphery

Freefall turned his Warhawk from side to side, looking for a new target amidst the flames that filled the inside of the fortress, Archmore standing beside him, a thin trail of smoke rising from his lasers. The Warriors simply stood there, torsos whiring back and forth. Other Warriors inside the fortress did the same, some walking around, over, or through shattered Jaguar vehicles.

Fokker's Shadow Hawk LAM slowed to a stop overhead, transforming into 'Mech mode, and dropped to the ground, its jets blackening one of the few gray spots left inside the fortress. He let go of the control stick and looked up at his passenger, very glad that Shadow Hawks were made with large and comfy cockpits so HE didn't have to sit on his lap. "Looks like the battle is over," he commented.

"Yeah," Pyro responded. "Now I want to know how they got here. And whether that warship up there is the one I think it is," he continued with a glower over at Pryde's damaged LAM.

"Hey, don't look at me," Fokker protested, waving his hands in the air. "I know nothing, I say nothing."


Medron Pryde opened his cockpit and dropped his emergency rope ladder, watching it uncurl to the ground. There was no way he was going to trust the footholds in the side of his 'Mech after this battle. A careful step out, and a minute of taking each step carefully on the swinging ladder got him down to the ground in one piece and he looked around the wreckage littering the inside of the fortress.

Patrols were searching the rest of the base for further resistance, but for now at least everything seemed quiet. "Pryde!" He turned at the angry shout to see Pyro stomping towards him and Medron sighed in resignation. "Pryde! Is that a Riga up there?"

The question was more of an accusation, but Medron feigned confusion and looked up as six grey and black fighters, with two smoking particle cannons protruding from their noses, flew overhead. "Well," he started innocently. "I really wouldn't know. I haven't exactly had a chance to see it. But I presume you have so would trust your judgement."

"Don't give me that bull, Pryde," Pyro responded angrily. "Is that 'Comstar's Pryde' up there?"

Medron looked at Pyro, then back up as one of the fighters returned, moving at just above stall speed. Suddenly arms folded out from the fuselage, holding the particle cannons in each hand, and the engines folded down to slow its descent as it came down to land next to Medron's LAM. It continued transforming as it dropped, and by the time it landed Pyro saw it was an exact duplicate of Medron's LAM.

He looked accusingly at Pryde as the cockpit opened and the pilot stepped out onto the undamaged footholds to crawl down the leg quickly. "Hey Medron," the pilot said, happily. "Hope you liked the help."

"It was great, Ratboy," Medron responded. Ratboy had been a good friend for a long time. And had been an even more loyal Warrior since the Goldfish's personality overlay had been decoded and wiped. "Do you think you could have brought them in with any more fanfare though? I don't think everybody on this side of Terra knows they are here yet."

Pyro took in Ratboy's black leather combat boots, trousers, jacket, gloves, and helmet and glowered even more. Another glance showed him the chains he'd expected. "Pryde," he growled. "You haven't answered me."

Medron smiled graciously at Pyro and turned back to Ratboy. "So how was the trip out to the Clan Homeworlds?"

"Out was good," he said, smiling at Pyro just as innocently as Medron had been. "The way back was a bit rough though. The Clanners were a bit hard on the bulkhead you see. Too much partying," he finished with a wink.


Medron looked back at Pyro and cleared his throat, continuing to feign innocence. "So how'd Tel take the name of the ship," he asked Ratboy.

"How'd you expect him to take it," Ratboy commented, smiling broadly at Pryo, playing along with Medron all the way. "The whole Pryde thing kinda got him hot under the collar."

"Pryde?" Pyro's eyes had narrowed at Ratboy's choice of words and Medron kept on grinning at them both.

"So you did take 'Comstar's Pryde' then," he asked brightly, truely enjoying this, and the small audience that was collecting to watch the confrontation.

"Oh yes," Ratboy answered just as innocently. "Its not like we have anything ELSE with a KFC drive."

"Pryde!" Ratboy and Medron finally turned to look at Pyro and stopped talking between themselves. "You were ordered to scrap her TEN YEARS ago! You TOLD me you scrapped her! I told my superiors you scrapped her! They told THEIR superiors you scrapped her! You lied to me Pryde!"

Medron lifted one hand and smiled back broadly at Pyro's rant. "Actually, Pyro. If I remember correctly, I told you 'the Pryde's been dealt with.' I never said she was scrapped."

Pyro just stood there, looking at Medron, his mouth hanging open in shock.

"Medron!" The three men turned to watch Tel Hazen shoulder his way through the crowd, bellowing at the top of his lungs. "I need to talk to you about that ship!"

"Get in line," Medron responded with a smile, waving his hand towards Pyro. Tel Hazen and Pyro exchanged a glower, then turn to look at Medron and Ratboy, both smiling back mischievously.

In the growing circle around them, the Warriors of the Dropship starting passing C-Bills around, betting on who would win if it came down to a fist fight.


Medron walked into the underground command post, holding a bruised rib carefully and showing a big black eye to all the world, and turned to face Freefall. Ratboy, Tel Hazen, and Pyro, all sporting similar "battle scars" followed him in carefully, all seeming to favor various limbs.

Freefall looked them over carefully, then turned back to the console he was standing in front of. "I'm sure you heard that the facility has been secured," he commented slowly. "Even with your....recreation." The four battered men nodded only seconds before Ravezero, Archmore, and MacAttack walked in, MacAttack patting a suddenly thick wallet with one hand, a satisfied smile on his face. Ravezero and Archmore didn't look nearly so happy about the situation.

Freefall considered his own depleted wallet and glowered at MacAttack as strongly as the other two did. The scotsman simply returned the three looks with an innocent smile.

"Anyways," Freefall proceeded. "We found this data disk hidden in Raoul's safe. I think you'll recognize the person who recorded it." He pushed a button on the control panel and the display built into the far wall came to life.

Everybody but Freefall gasped as they saw the figure come into focus. "I thought she was dead," Archmore mumbled.

"Whoever you are, I assume the Smoked Jaguars are no more," she said primly. "I just want you to know that they aren't my ONLY assets out here. No where NEAR my only assets. They did have one thing going for them though. They were my dumbest. And they've done a good job of keeping you busy while my TRUE plan has been completed.

"But look on the bright side. One of these days, you'll find out what my plan was. Of course, that will be the day MY wishes come true. The day I will get to see all of the Warriors' heads on a row of pikes and I will stand before each one and wave....just....like....this." As she finished, she lifted her right hand up and wiggled her fingers at the camera wickedly. "Have a nice day."

And with that, Katherine Steiner-Davion disappeared as the screen faded to black.

By Pyro

(Editor:  Chapter 82)

16 July, 3082
Bluedot, Periphery

Pyro stared at the screen coldly as the image of Katherine Steiner-Davion faded away. "I wouldn't worry about her. She isn't the only one with hidden assets, or plans."

The other Warriors looked confused. "Well what are they?"

Pyro shook his head. "I promised an old friend that I wouldn't reveal it. It will become known very quickly after it happens, however."


27 July, 3082
Miami, Terra
BlakeBurger Corporate HQ

Katherine lauged giddily. Her followers had acquired her a copy of the Starfish Device. There was nothing in the universe that would stop her now.

A knock on her chamber's door sounded, and she merely barked. "Enter." A blue-robed man slowly strolled forward. Katherine looked up. "Adept Rolie. It is good to see you again."

Rolie smiled, bowed, and handed her a bouquet of flowers. "I brought you a gift." Katherine giggled "How nice of you.", as Rolie's communicator started beeping. Rolie scowled. "I'd better step outside and answer that."

Rolie quickly exited the room. After a few seconds of waiting, Katherine grew impatient and examined the bouquet. A little note was scrawled on a card attached.

"Dearest Katherine. I hope you experience these flowers the same way our mother experienced the ones you sent her. -Victor"

Katherine gasped and dropped the boquet milliseconds before it blossomed into a ball of golden fire that quickly consumed the Primus's chamber.


Outside of the BlakeBurger Compound, Pyro put down his communicator and grinned evilly as Rolie stepped up, trying to contain his obvious amusement. "That was fun, anything else?"

Pyro shook his head. "Not for today. You've done the Inner Sphere more good than you can possibly imagine, Precentor Rolie. The real Precentor-Martial sends his thanks. We'd better get going before BlakeBurger Security shows up though."

By paladin

(Editor:  Chapter 82 addition by Paladin.)

Paladin walks out from behind the equipment he was using to hide.

"Pyro......you do realize I wanted to kill her and am currently under contract to do the job?"

Paladin leaned against a wall and faked an irritated expression. he then returned to his normal expressionless face. "So what do we do NOW? I have a feeling she didn't do this alone. She's dead now so we can't question her as to any others involved."

By MacAttack I think I like the jive version better.

[MacAttack dumps the half finished manuscript for "Clams of Kerensky" into the trash and goes off to consider his options.]

By Owens

(Editor:  Chapter 83)

16 July, 3082
Miami, Terra
Blakeburger Corporate HQ

Kathrine stumbled through the smoke filled room. The smell of burnt flesh filled her nostrils, and she could feel the soot and grime all penetrating every pore of her body. Pain assaulted her senses in a vain attempt to stall her. But she was a Woman on a mission. "No one can stop the Ice Queen..ever!" A fierce grin of determination appeared on her face.

At the last moment, before the bomb blew, she had dived behind a table. The blast, however, had claimed her left arm, and the left side of her french maid's outfit.

Heedless of her own pain and suffering, Kathrine Steiner-Davion crawled over to were her Versache purse lay.

As she saw the diamond encrusted purse, she allowed herself a moment of relaxation.

Leaning heavily on the wall, she was careful not to spill any blood on her precious purse. It was her dream, really. Historians had claimed she was after power..it wasn't true.

Kathrine, as a child, had seen the purse in a store. However, its cost was astronomical, and her parents wouldn't buy it for her. She had needed the highest office of the Federated Commonwealth simply to purchase it. Now she had it, and would never let it go.

Katherine looked on wearily as the doors on the far side of the room opened. Through the doors steped a young man, one Katie had never seen, inspite of the fact that he wore a Blake Burger uniform.

"Quick, get help!" she screamed with all her remaining strength.

"Uh, I had infiltrated this organization to kill you," Paladin said, "But it seems someone else beat me to it. Do you have any idea how many hours I worked at the register just to get access into this building? Jeeze!"

Katherine didn't know what to make of him "So, you're not going to kill me?"

Paladin thought for a second. "No... I suppose not...."

Katherine smiled mischeviously.

Then Paladin continued "But I am going to splash acid on your face!"

Katherine was terrorized into complete shock as Paladin produced a vial of Acid, and proceeded to spill the contents of it all over her head.

"My face, my gorgeous, youthful, valuable face! It's melting! Melting! What a world, what a world!"

Paladin fled into the night, his insane laughter flooding the Miami skyline.

By Pyro

(Editor:  Chapter 82 Addition- Again.)

Pyro simply shrugged. "Orders are orders, Paladin. It suffices to say that ComStar is never without a plan, though. With her death, her conspirators will do the only logical thing... and send messages to each other trying to coordinate. Need I remind you who controls the HPG networks?"

By Pyro Hmm. Note to self. When AFK for a while, hit refresh before writing a message.

By Owens

(Editor:  Chapter 83)

27 July 3082
Miami, Terra
Maimi Beach

Angelino Rolie walked slowly through the sand of the beach. All around him, citizens of Miami were having some fun in the sun, running, flirting, sunbathing, playing volleyball and swimming.

Rolie stood contemplatively. The heavy robes of his Percentor uniform were perilously warm in the summer, but he had long since gotten used to it.

But something else worried him. Rolie was a firm believer in the sanctity of the Blessed Blake, and His vision. And he had just assisted the agents of Reform against his Brothers.

But his brothers were psychopaths, their vision as much bastardization of Blake's dream as that of the Reformists.

He remembered a conversation he once had, long ago, during his acolyte days, with an adept.

"Blake's vision is one of peace and serenity. Of respect for technology and the power of the human will!"

"Rolie, you are young and naive. The Word of Blake was not created by FASA to be an organization of peaceful, reclusive do-gooders. Nor was anyone ever supposed to like our Ideology. We were created to be a non-ethnic specific group of fanatical religious terrorists, so as not to offend any specific way of life."


"Rolie, please. Spare me the 'Blake told us to be nice to others' routine. Or the, 'The Word of Blake should stand for more than just terrorism' speech. Look at our history. How many times did we try to take over the inner sphere? We were designed to be conspiritorial terrorists who wear Bad Guy (tm) tee-shirts all day long. Period."

Rolie looked up at the sun. His head jerked involutarily as pain peirced his eyes. Rolie then made sure to close his eyes FIRST and THEN turn towards the sun.

"There has to be a middle path," he thought, "The Word of Blake must learn to endure without the nutcase, psychotic elements, or else we are doomed."

"Yes," he said solemly, "This is the task that my life has been waiting for. And with Jerome Blake as my witness, I will accomplish it."

By Pyro (Alright, Katherine isn't dead. But by the time everyone gets their licks, she'll probably be the next Kael Pershaw.)

By EvilTarq I thought the universe could only hold one (barely)...

By paladin I actually WOULD do that to someone if I had a little motivation. (especially with HER track record).

both "The Dark Paladin of Death"
and "The Master of Insanity"

By Medron Pryde

(Editor: Chapter 84)

16 July, 3082
Bluedot, Periphery

Medron listened to Pyro's comment and sighed. "Well, I'm sure things will work themselves out," he commented lightly and patted Pyro on the back.

He hissed in pain and pulled away from Medron. "Hey watch that," he said quickly, taking another step back.

"Ooh...sorry." Medron winced with sympathetic pain from his ribs. "Well dudes, as soon as we get done searching this facility, I suggest we turn it over to Comstar's gentle care. Or we could just bomb it to oblivion from high orbit. Makes no diff to me." Medron shrugged at the last comment. "But for now, I suggest we start figuring out what 'Mechs are salvageable, get Pyro's dropship back online and ready to make like a bat on fire, and all that jazz."

MacAttack nodded slowly, listening to the conversation branch off into a full discussion of the steps to be taken to get back off the planet, and patted his thick to bursting wallet again. To think that no one else had thought they would stop beating each other senseless over a silly name. He clucked quietly and shook his head at the idiocy of some people.


20 July, 3082
Bluedot, Periphery

The engines of the 'Holy Fire' roared to life, belching flame nearly a kilometer behind her and burning what little vegetation had survived her landing. The dropship slowly pulled itself out of the muck and began rolling across the solid ground on the edge of the swamp. She bounced as she sheared off the top of a small hillock and the pilot winced at the sound as he ran his ran hands across the control board.

The engine roar doubled in intensity and the dropship accelerated down the makeshift runway cleared by the other dropships as they'd landed. Finally reaching flight speed, the pilot engaged the thrusters and the dropship pulled up, the thrusters digging deep furrows into the ground and throwing dirt in all directions. The dropship clawed for space with all the grace of a brick with a rocket engine strapped to it, but it still rose.

On the ground, the last of the shuttles slammed their engines to full and exploded forward towards flight speed. They made for air nearly a kilometer before the rips the 'Holy Fire' had made in the ground.

Then the other dropships began reaching for the sky. First, the Overlord Freefall was on exploded into action, main engines sending flaming rocks nearly a kilometer away to clang against the hull of The Dropship. The ground rippled as the behemoth lifted off and flew.

Next went the three dropships belonging to the Arrows Guard and the Pit Wolfs. Leaving behind a shattered landscape, they followed the first two dropships up into high orbit.

And final came The Dropship. Engines the size of the Leopard class dropship roared to life, all but evaporating the ground underneath. Scientists sampling the soil outside the fortress, ten kilometers away, would later wonder how sediments from the swamp had splattered all across the walls.


Medron Pryde stood aboard the bridge of 'The Knight's Own' and watched as the massive carrier began a slow turn to arc it out of planetary orbit. There he saw the two jumpships from the Arrows Guard burning down towards the planet at max acceleration. Their slingshot manuever would put them out to jump range within two days. Not bad for jumpships, he thought in admiration.

As the jumpships rotated out of the viewport, his warship's turn brought the 'Righteous Fire' into view. Still damaged, she had more then enough thrust to burn out to jump range without any trouble. He watched her engines catch and cough, then flame to life and begin pushing her out. Then the 'Illicit Enterprise' came into view, battered engines pushing her away from the planet.

The 'Knight's' turn finally rotated that warship out of the viewport, but replaced her with views of the last four warships in system. The 'Kai,' hovering far above, had finally been able to bring minimal power online and her engines flamed up to one gee as he watched. Then the 'Arthur' and 'Merlin,' only a few klicks off the 'Knight's' bow, engaged their drives to escort her out.

Finally, the white warship, 'Comstar's Pryde,' began to pull away from the planet, her engines sending back 100 kilometer long plumes of flame as she accelerated. Medron shook his head and crossed over to the comm station. "Put me through to the 'Pryde,'" he said to the operator on station and she complied within a minute.

"Hey Ratboy," he said. "Where ya going now?"

"Taking the Clanners back to their homeworlds of course," came the reply. "And now that Comstar knows she's still around, I suppose we can go back home again. Wash up the bulkheads a bit. I can just imagine what the party will be like on the way back." Medron could hear the wink this time.

"Sounds fun," he said with a smirk. "I need to stop off at Atreus. Then I think I'll take a trip home. It's been too long," he finished with a long sigh.

"Trust me," Ratboy responded. "I know exactly how you feel."

Medron laughed at the comment. "Well, seeya dude. Seeya back home."

"Back home." Another smile crossed Medron's face as he cut the connection. He shook his head slowly and walked back to his chair, beside the captain's chair, and sat down carefully as he thought about home.

A day later, every warship in the system jumped. A day after that, the jumpships followed.


30 July, 3082
Atreus, Free World's League

"One battalion?" The question fell out of Isis' lips as she read the report. "One battalion," she repeated in disbelief.

"Yes," was Medron's simple reply. "Though we did salvage enough damaged LAMs to bring another battalion online. It'll just take a while to rebuild everything."

"And it will take a year to rebuild the 'Kai.'"


Isis put the report down and looked into Medron's eyes. "Was it as bad down there as this report looks," she asked carefully.

"Yes," he responded, returning her gaze for a moment. He pulled his eyes away and looked at the floor, taking a deep breath. "I need to go home, Isis. I have a lot to think about." His head rose back up and he met her gaze again, his face betraying no emotion.

"OK," she whispered with a nod. "Just don't stay away to long. I need people here that I can trust."

Medron nodded and stood to walk out. Suddenly his hand came up and he smiled at her with a sadistic glint in his eyes. "You know....I totally forgot to congratulate Ravezero on his new position," he said, his smile growing wider. "I was wondering if you could rectify that serious error on my part," he continued with mock concern.

"Hmmm." Her posture showed the same mock concern as his, and eyes mirrowed his mischevous glint. "And how might such an error be rectified," she asked slowly.

"Well......I was thinking maybe we could ask one of our better sculptures to make a small replica of the new totem animal for his realm....oh...about this size." He finished with his hands seperated by a meter of air and Isis giggled with delight.

By Pyro

(Editor:  Chapter 85)

31 July, 3082
Hilton Head Island, Terra

Pyro leaned back in his chair as his fingers flew across the keyboard.

Mission File: RC2763082X
Outcome: Marginal Failure

The old Precentor-Martial's last order was carried out, but the bomb type specified apparently lacked enough power to neutralize the target. Katherine is confirmed to have survived, though she is horribly disfigured. Our bean counters estimate that the WoB will spend an enormous amount of money on reconstructive surgery for her, which will, perhaps, restore her physical form to some degree. On the up side, we have caused her a great deal of physical and emotional trauma, which will likely add to her revenge complex. With any luck, her rage will blind her better judgement when she moves against us in the future.

Pyro sighed, then tapped a few more keys, adding his name to the report, then shut down the computer.

Victor had said he would return one day... and deep down, Pyro knew that he was going to be really cheesed off at him for screwing this up.

By archmore mmmmm I think I had better head for my home planet...some funny things are going on there.not to mention explaining about all the destroyed mechs........I shouldn't be in too much trouble (I hope ) as my Mom is on the military council......ps if there are any Wolf Clan warriors of the DS they might be wondering abouth the Pitwolf's (have to get them out of here fast.:-) )

By Owens_

(Editor:  Chapter 86)

20 July, 3082
Bluespot, The Periphery

The Condfederate class dropship slowed to dock with the 'Illicit Enterprise.' All 12 memebers of BBjr's Company of Burner 'Mech Stables stumbled their way out of the air lock, and proceeded toward the waiting reception area. All around, people were eating small fingerfoods and sampling assorted ethnic delicacies.

The well known faces of Ravezero, Akira, MacAttack and many other Dropship warriors smiled and cheered as the triumphant Company entered the room.

Owens and Uraikha shared a moment of intense giggling as they saw Ravezero cross over to greet them. The way he looked in his japanese outfit with the black on red sea manatee printed over his heart made him look more comical than they had ever expected.

BBjr. shouted extatically, "Hey! Rave!"

"Junior, Joe, Uraikha, Owens! I'm glad you made it, even if it was at the last moment."

"I would never pass up a fight!" Junior laughed.

An all too familiar voice could be heard over the din "Hey there, Junior.."

BBjr's face twirked in disbelief, but quickly relaxed into joy "DAD!!!!"

BrainBurner spread his arms wide open to recieve his charging son.

"Wow Dad, I really missed you. Mom misses you too. She's not angry anymore. Where'd you disappear off to?"

"Well, the only place I really could." he replied

"Which was?"

"I decided crash over at Rave's. He gave me a couch to sleep on. Then he became Coordinator, and gave me my own room in the palace. It was a really great place."

BBjr hugged his father even tighter "Let's go home."

BB shook his head. "Uh-uh. We still have a party left to attend."

BBjr smiled. Everything was great again.

Joe Shmoe found a convienient place to slouch along the wall of the gravity deck/party lounge. He tossed back his root beer, slamming it onto the table and then requested another.

He could feel the presence of another person, but was too busy feeling the effects of caffine dulling his senses.

"Ahem" came a shy sounding female voice.

Joe turned and found himself face to face with Hannah Lee.

"Hey there," He said, only loud enough that he could be heard over the rest of the conversations, "You made it over from the warship alright?"

She nodded. As impassive as always; her eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses.

"Well, thats good." Joe didn't understand this girl. Maybe she was manic depressive or something, but it seemed like every time he tried flirting she always became angry with him for some reason.

Well, what the hell, he thought, why not try one more time..

"I heard you singing over the radio," He looked back towards her concealed eyes, "You have a beautiful voice...you should sing more often."

Hannah looked down at the ground. "I was..."

Joe quirked an eyebrow in her direction. "Yes?"

Her head shot up, and Joe couldn't tell if she was angry or not. "I was..." tears began to roll down her cheeks from beneath the tinted glasses. Joe gave her the biggest hug he could, and he could immediately feel his shoulders becoming damp from tears.

She lifted her head up and whispered in his ear. "I was singing for YOU Joe..."

Joe's smile could be seen by Owens, Uraikha and Excesstacy clear across the room.

"You da man, Joe." Owens chuckled under his breath.

Uraikha, who was just about the least emotional person Owens had ever seen, was smirking as well.

Owens leaned sideways. "Uraikha, don't smile too much, your face might stay that way."

Uraikha's smile dissapeared for a moment but reappeared shortly thereafter, and then he returned to crowd watching.

"Another day, another dollar." Excesstacy sighed.

"What's a dollar?" Owens asked.

"Don't worry about it. By the way, Owens..."


"Why does that guy look exactly like me?"

Excesstacy was pointing at one of the other Warriors.

"Oh, yeah, STC.."

"SC T." grunted Uraikha.

"I think," Owens said with a wink, "That's a story for a different thread.."

By Pyro

(Editor:  Chapter 87)

Epilogue: Bad Guys (TM) Edition

16 July, 3082
Bluedot, Periphery, Smoking Jaguar Swamps

Nutrient-rich ash fell to the ground, blanketing scorched areas of swamp. Raoul had finally done something productive, though it was posthumous and out of everyone's notice. As fertilizer, he would be responsible for erasing the scars of war from Bluedot.


17 July, 3082
Bluedot, Periphery, Civilian Caste Enclave

The party rolled on into its 23rd hour. Ever since the Star League banner appeared at the top of the Castle Brian, the once-oppressed, from scientist down to laborer, took to the streets in celebration. They had much to be happy for. With the Jaguar warriors removed, peace and calm would finally come to their lives.


17 July, 3082
Bluedot, Periphery

A small group of ComGuard garrison MechWarriors laughed as they enjoyed their newest sport. A Clan Smoke Jaguar giftake canister was crudely duct-taped to the wall. "Your turn, Bill.", one other said.

The shorter warrior stepped up, and threw the dart with all of his might. The dart hit a previously existing dent, rupturing the canister and causing its contents to spill all over the floor.

Bill's teammate gave him a high-five as the other team's leader grudgingly handed over 10 C-bills to pay off the bet.


WoBS Deliverance

White pain flooded into Katherine's body as she awoke with a jolt. Her left arm tingled. Using what little energy she could muster, she looked over towards it. Shiny metal glistened in the low light. Katherine scowled as the doctor entered. "What is this thing?"

"It is your prosthesis, my Primus."

Katherine scowled. "Get this ugly thing off of me! Or at least make a convincing sheath for it. Ugh. And why am I wearing this ugly red wig!?"

The Doctor sighed. "Your hair was burned off either by the explosion or the acid. A man named Rolie recommended red before we lifted."

Katherine snarled at the mention of the man's name. "Rolie. $%#&* He is going to PAY! And those little Warriors too."


BlakeBurger Corporate HQ, Miami, Terra

Precentor-Sanitation Homer Lenny Carlson moved the mop over the floor of the Primus's chamber, trying to sweep the last of the ash off the floor, grumbling as the carbon marks left by the explosive stubbornly clinged to the floor. He had to get the room spotless before BlakeBurger would choose a new Primus. Grumbling, he sat down in the Primus's chair to take a breather, then noticed a little red directional control stick. He pushed it, and the chair accelereated around in a half turn, then continued spinning out of control. The chair ejected him headfirst into his bucket of mopwater. "D'oh!"

By Brainburner The perfect ending, of this chapter of the lives and crimes of; the Warriors of the Dropship.

By EvilTarq Was that trip REALLY necessary?

By Pyro

(Editor:  Chapter 88)

Epilogue: ComStar Edition

31 July, 3082
Hilton Head Island, Terra

Acolyte III Erika Carson stared at the plain white ceiling, barely aware that the door had just opened. Getting hit by several LBX rounds, an SRM, and then dropped out of a 'Mech hadn't done her much good. One of her legs was in a cast and raised, and she was still suffering the effects of a serious concussion.

A familiar white-robed form appeared in the doorway. "Hi Pyro". Pyro nodded. "Brought you a BlakeBurger. I kinda figured you'd be sick of the hospital food by now." Erika grinned. "You're danged straight I am. One more bite of that sludge and I'd seriously consider a hunger strike."

Pyro chuckled as he opened the bag and handed her the food. "Sorry I ate half the fries on the drive here."

"So what brings you here, anyway?", she asked.

Pyro shrugged. "To get away from the paperwork mostly", he said with a grin. "Without you handling most of it, I'm already up to my armpits in it. The temp isn't nearly as good."


31 July, 3082
Hilton Head Island, Precentor-Martial's Office

Former Star Colonel Ryan Furey glowered at the stack of forms as he brandished his rubber stamp. "Stupid Raoul." *STAMP* "I wish *I* had a leader with foresight." *STAMP* "By Kerensky's Ghost! You have to fill out a form to change a lightbulb!?" *STAMP!*


02 August, 3082
Titan Yards

The CSS Righteous Fire coasted in as its engines coughed and died. A small tender vessel pulled it to its proper mooring, and boarding ramps extended. Several crewmen fell to the deck in relief at having returned alive. Others were carted away on stretchers. Within minutes, the enitre ship had emptied.


Chief Tech James Beam looked at the ship through the bubble of his space suit's helmet and let out a low whistle. "I got my work cut out for me."

Jetting around the ship, he noticed a small metal sliver sticking out in between a plastic and a metal armor plate and stared curiously, then pulled it out. As if in response to the seemingly insginificant act, half of the top deck collapsed, crushing the galley and some empty quarters. James cringed. "Ah Crap! The Primus is gonna have my legs broke."

By Medron Pryde hehehe...so MacAttack....how badly did I kill your story.......;-)

By MacAttack Just need to find duct tape to fix things.

Lets just say that two of the three plot threads I was developing are looking somewhat in danger...

By Medron Pryde Well...if it has to do with Ratboy still being a traitor...good....;-)

If it has to to do with everybody's favorite nominee for pikedom...she could have been lying.....hehehe

Those are the only two I can think of that could have been fragged by the last round of posts....;-)

By Fokker I`m REALLY glad that Shadow Hawks do have large and comfy cockpits.

thanx for that one boss, and sorry Pyro you are just not my type :)

By Pyro I don't get that last comment, Fokker?

*Pyro stares in obvious confusion.*

By David Richards

(Editor:  Chapter 89)

3rd August, 3082
Illicit Enterprise, orbiting Luthien

The ship was largely deserted, many of the few remaining crew having ventured down to Luthien during this short stay. The bar too was unoccupied, apart from David Richards, sitting at a table.
He threw ten dice. They all came up ones. He threw again. Again, ten ones.
"I've gotta work off this luck..." he muttered.

3rd August, 3082

Ravezero walked through the doorway, pacing himself as he approached the delegation.
"Ah, Admiral Ravezero." Smiling One addressed him. "The Combine thanks you for your efforts on our behalf. But..." He looked down at his feet. The others of the party did the same. "... our genetic tests have conclusively proved you are no blood descendent of Shiro Kurita. You cannot be the Dugong."
"What a pity. Still, it was nice." inwardly Ravezero was elated, but he knew better than to show it. Even Akira took this seriously.
"We ah, also sorry to inform you that the Star League has demoted you to Captain once more." Smiling One handed him the communique.
D*mn. Ravezero had liked being an Admiral. Still, at least the communique demoted everyone else underneath him. And he still had the Illicit Enterprise. He looked up again at Smiling One.
"We do, however, have information on who should be heir. We have heard on one 'Mishima'. He must be the heir. We know your duties are pressing, but would you er 'keep an eye out' for him?"
Ravezero considered this. It wouldn't hurt just to be observant. Still, he planned to extract as much from this as possible
"Sure, if you'll do me a favour..."

18th August, 3082
Atreus, Free Worlds League

Two suited men stopped Medron as he was leaving the palace.
"Excuse me, sir? Are you Medron Pryde?" asked one.
"Sure, yes." replied Medron.
"I'm Sergeant Friday, this is Sergeant Streebeck." said one, flashing a badge. "Luthien Allied Police Department. We would to ask you a few questions."
"Sure, fire away." replied Medron
Streebeck flashed a book in his face, bearing the title 'Heir to the Dugong'. Friday 'fired away'.
"Did you write chapter three?"
"How many times did you use the word shapely?" asked Streebeck.
"In reference to the Duchess and her Prosterior?" asked Friday.
"Where in the Field Manual: Free Worlds League does it contain any information on Duchess Isis Marik's prosterior?"
"Do you often fanatasize about fictional royal prosteriors?"
"Wha..er.. I mean.." stuttered Medron.
The two officers looked at each other. One raised an eyebrow.
"Would you please accompany us to the station mr Pryde?"

By David Richards Aaarrrggh! 9TH chapter.

By EvilTarq Uh-oh... thrown out on a technicality.

By Abbas_Kerensky

(Editor:  Chapter 90)

18 August 3082
Bluedot, Periphery
Medron Pryde Plains (The blown up place)

An Atlas bearing Clan Wolf colors lifted a large portion of an HPG uplink and loaded it onto a Flatbed truck with its powerful hands. A Phoenix Hawk grabbed a Naval Laser turret in both of its little arms and brought the weapon over to the hundred-tonner 'Mech. The 45-ton Medium 'Mech almost tripped over a BattleMaster's right arm, still left over from the battle a month ago. The Atlas helped the smaller 'Mech back to its feet before both the 'Mech and the weapon could be damaged.

"Hey watch it with that thing, you freebirth stravag!"

Abbas hated to see clumsiness in any form. Most of all, he hated this planet, but he was left as property manager for the Warriors of the DropShip on Bluedot, which included all salvage operations. Because there were still token forces of Jaguar resistance on planet, there was a lot of work to do that had not been finished in a month. The battlefield had been named the Medron Pryde Plains in honor of Medron Pryde, who had not been heard from in some time.

"We need that salvage in pristine condition so we can take it back to the Inner Sphere next week."

A messenger arived, carrying a noteputer and handing it to Abbas. Abbas looked at the image taken from sattlelite scans of the area nearby. Based on the information given, Abbas was able to assume that there was a fairly large BattleMech plant underground, just four kilometers west of his position. According thermal scans, it was still active, and producing heavy to assault class bird-legged chassis', most probably OmniMechs. One way the Jags probably stayed on the battlefield for so long, and continued to harass salvage trucks and lone units.

He made a note to take a Trinary up there tomorrow, capture the facility, dismantle it, and put it on board the DropShips. He frowned. The existence of a BattleMech plant would keep him and his men on planet for another week at the best.

By Owens

(Editor:  Chapter 91)

20 August 3082
LGAO HQ, Atreus
Free Worlds League

Owens adjusted his tie as the elevator moved up to the 11th floor of the office building.

It was good to be back, he thought, as he stepped left the elevator and walked over to his office. His key card opened the door, a sure sign that he hadn't been fired. That, at least, was a good sign.

As he walked into his office and tossed his trench coat on a chair, he reflected on the fact that the building had seemed curiously uninhabited.

Shrugging it off, he walked over to his desk and sat down in the leather chair. He flipped on his computer, and shuffled through the pile of papers that were waiting for him. "That's bureaucracy for yah," he mumbled.

"Hello, Owens! Nice of you to return!"

Owens was startled as the mustached, frizzy haired, glasses wearing face of Nerdlinger, aka Nerd, appeared on the monitor.

"Hey, Nerd, so nice to see you again. Who's that in back of you?" Owens was talking about a rather pudgy man to the rear of Nerd.

"That's Frodo."

"Why is he hitting himself in the head with a trout?"

"None of your business."


"Our first order of business to day is a present from the Captain General. She's showing her gratitude for your loyalty to her."

Owens was suspicious. He had backed Corrine during the succession crisis. "Meaning?"

On cue, the entire building began to rumble. Objects jumped on his desk, pens and paper tumbled to the floor.

"What's going on Nerd?" Owens shouted frantically at his collegue

"Go to the window, Owens." Owens dashed to the window, and looked out.

The city was growing smaller beneath him. The office building was blasting off into space!


"Hee hee!" Nerd laughed excitedly. "Don't worry, we're only putting you in low orbit."

"What? How can you??"

Nerd began to speak very solemnly. "I have been instructed to send you cheezy movies, the worst I can find. You'll have to sit and watch them all, and we'll monitor you mind."

The building, now in orbit, stopped all motion.

Owens was furious.

"Don't worry too much, Owens," Nerd said with a disturbing grin. "Your first movie is a stirring documentary about families torn apart during the War of Andurien Succession..."

"It's an asinine Kurita propaganda film!" Frodo pipped up in the back ground.

Nerd turned to Frodo, "Shut up, imbecile!" He then continued. "Now, Owens, the name of the Film is 'Gausszilla versus the monster from New Avalon'...Enjoy!"

Alarms blared in Owens' office

"Oh, no!" Owens exclaimed, "I've got Movie Sign!!!"

By EvilTarq *Army guy from Monty Python walks on screen*

"Alright. That last piece was a bit too much. We'll have no more of that. Do that again and it kill be KP for you for an entire month!"

By Medron Pryde

(Editor:  Chapter 89 addition.)

"Did you write chapter three?"


"How many times did you use the word shapely?" asked Streebeck.

"None in Chapter Three, though twice in Chapter Nine." (had to look that one up)

"In reference to the Duchess and her Prosterior?" asked Friday.

"I never referred to this Duchess, whoever she is, in anyway."

"Where in the Field Manual: Free Worlds League does it contain any information on Duchess Isis Marik's prosterior?"

"Never, though the Crapolan Field Manual does show a very nice picture of Captain-General Isis Marik. I don't know who this Duchess is that you are talking about though."

"Do you often fanatasize about fictional royal prosteriors?"


By David Richards I'll think you'll find that now 'Captain-General' Isis Marik also happens to be a Duchess.
Case closed.

By Fokker Pyro I thought of driving together in the cockpit of my Shad LAM (waaaay back in thread, Medron`s post-Sunday, June 10, 2001 - 03:03 am). I mean don`t get offended or something, but Joe Shmoe get to ride a chick in his tight, small cockpit.

And thanx to my boss Med I get to drive you. Thank God MacAttack gave me that Shad long time ago, otherwise I`ll have to fly with you in my lap and believe me that wouldn`t be a nice experience for neither of us.

By Medron Pryde Hehehe....yup.....remembering little bits of fluff text (like the Shad haveing a REAL nice and comfy lifesupport system that leaves the pilot well rested for long periods of time....no guys....that DOESN'T mean holos of Lara Croft....or Natasha Kerensky...hehehe) can be a real lifesaver when writing stories.

By Fokker Way to go Med, way to go!

By Pyro Some mechs even have a little foldout passenger seat. Those have been mentioned in a few stories.

By Pyro And naw, I ain't offended. You just confused the hell outta me :)

By Pyro

(Editor:  Chapter 92)

Epilogue: Mysterious Loose Ends Edition

01 August, 3082 (around midnight)
Hilton Head Island, Terra
HPG station

A lone figure sat hunched over the terminal in the darkened room, typing away. A display on the wall slowly showed an (C)HPG array coming online, capable of broadcasting the message far into the deep periphery.

The figure spoke. "General, the mission is nearly accomplished. The Inner Sphere are again returning to the old ways of war. New and old-style metal designs have entered production again. There is a good chance that they will be able to stand up to the coming storm... to the Clams of Kerensky... but it is uncertain."

The shadowy form's hand flew over and hit the send button, then proceeded to go about the normal memory wipes. HPG station memory cores had to be wiped occasionally to keep them functional. No one would notice that there was a wipe mere minutes before the scheduled one... Since no record would exist of it afterwards anyway.


07 August, 3082
WoBS Deliverance

Katherine glowered as she pressed the button to sit her bed in the upright position. Sparks flew from the small fob, and the bed shot forward, leaving her uncomfortably crushed with her chest against her legs. "MedTech Evil!"

The Doctor scowled. "I did not go to WoB Medical College for so many years to be addressed as MedTech. You will refer to me as Doctor Evil."

"I don't care nitwit! Get me out of this death trap."

The Doctor pried the bed open, and Katherine stood beside it. "Good. Now that I am out of that thing, I need you to bring me something. Get me my purse."

Doctor Evil complied, and brought her the purse. Katherine opened it, and produced a little manila envelope marked as Plan B.

She opened it, and read it silently. "Mwahahah! Those Warriors don't stand a chance!"

Katherine reached the intercom button to contact the bridge. "Precentor Ramius, make preparations..." *INSERT DRAMATIC MUSIC* "... and initiate PLAN B."


11 August, 3082

Kali Liao, Chancellor of the Capellan Confederation laughed maniacally as her most evil scheme to date formed in her mind.

Kali looked over to the goldfish bowl and smiled. "It will be a great day for the Confederation."

As if in response, the little fish did a backflip. Kali grinned. With the approval of the wise fish, the plan was sure to work.



(*Though not in this story. C'mon, guys, let Mr. Stakpole write Clams of Kerensky first.)

By archmore ok I got a question for this (and the other thread that I can't find) has anyone edited this story together yet and if so put it on a web site?
am looking for a .doc file for it. thanks.................................. am Gonna keep all the stories that are made here at least for a while.

By Medron Pryde I would like it to for inclusion on the story site I still plan on making...;-)
(Editor:  Chapter 93)

30 September, 3082
Atreus, Free World's League

Medron Pryde stepped off the dropship ramp and unto the pavement of the spaceport. It had been good to go home, but he would be welcomed at his family's estate here on Atreus too. His new black leather boots creaked as he walked towards the administration building, and his eyes tracked another dropship dropping down for a landing a kilometer away. He smiled as he wondered how Paladin was enjoying his trip out to the Clan homeworlds. Hopefully he hadn't partied too hard with the Clanners on the way back, he thought with a laugh.

The doors opened on automatic sliding rails and he walked into the cool, air-conditioned building to step into the line devoted for new arrivals and wait his turn before showing his ID to the clerk. She nodded, had him place his eyes over a scanner, and gave him his baggage claim ticket. With the ticket in hand, he took the five minute walk to the baggage claim area and waited for his luggage to arrive.

This time the luggage handlers were fast and he only had to wait fifteen minutes before he picked up the single duffle bag with Marik eagle emblazoned proudly on its side. A quick walk took him through the crowds to the admin. building exit and he looked around for the ride he assumed would be waiting for him.

Two men came up on either side of him, each wearing black suits and sun glasses. "Mr. Pryde," the one asked and Medron nodded. "Please come with us, sir," the obvious leader said and took Medron's duffle bag. The other man took the carry-on bag off his shoulder and the three of them walked towards a nearby black hoverlimo.

Medron slide into the back seat as the two men placed his bags in the trunk before sitting in the front seat. The leader started the engine and Medron felt the car lift up on a cushion of air before slowly beginning to move forward and out of the spaceport. As they exited it and flew through the city proper, he noted to himself that it was good to be back on Atreus. Home was nice, but he'd truely become a man of Atreus over the last few years.

Home. The word and the visions it brought to mind rang through Medron's head as he watched the rolling metropolis scroll by outside the windows. Teenagers strolled down the streets, laughing as they teased each other while shopping. There a group of suits clicked down the sidewalk purposefully, probably going to a meeting. Across the street, a sidewalk sale had garnered a strong showing of shoppers. He nodded as he considered that life was good here.

The limo finally arrived at the capital building, and came to stop, lowering down onto its skids as the cushion of air leaked away. Medron stepped out of the limo as the security guards at the door watched and he walked towards the building as his escorts unloaded his luggage from the trunk to follow him. He showed his ID and put his eye up to another scanner before the guards let him through and walked into the building, his escorts close behind.

"Mr. Pryde," a voice called and he turned to see a young man hurry up to him in a painfully crisp League uniform. Medron couldn't help but smile at the youth's equally painfully crisp attitude and stance, but returned his salute quickly. "The Captain-General would like your luggage sent to your room," the young man said, partially to Medron and partially to his escorts and they nodded, turning away to take them. They knew where his quarters were. "Now if you could follow me, sir," the eager voice continued. "The Captain-General would like to speak with you."

Medron nodded and followed the young man through the grand halls of the capital, taking them in slowly. He'd walked through the halls many times before, but had never really looked at them. He wondered how many other times he hadn't looked at things but simply seen them and decided it had probably happened far too often. A slow sigh escaped as he walked around a corner to look at the doors that opened into the audience chamber.

Medron walked forward towards the doors, showed the two guards his ID and let them scan his eye again, before they opened the door for him. He walked in, his boots echoing in the chamber with each step, and the doors shut behind him. He looked up to see Captain-General Isis Marik sitting in her throne and swallowed as he walked towards the dias. She stood up as he stopped, and then walked down the double-width steps to his level.

She took in his civilian attire with a practiced gaze before speaking. "So how did you find your trip home," she asked softly.

Medron looked down at the black marble floor, then over at the beautifully carved walls, before turning back to meet her gaze. "I've found that you can only have one home," he said slowly. "One place where you can say 'this is where I belong.' But times change. People change. Homes change. I've changed. Home isn't out there any more." He looked down again, then clicked his heels on the floor and looked back up at Isis. "This is my home now. Atreus. And this is where I will stay."

The Captain-General took in his gaze for a moment before turning around and walking back up the stairs to sit down on her throne. She looked back at him and nodded. "Good."

By EvilTarq Awww... he's getting sentimental.


By Frank Vickers Oi Medron! I have a bone to pick with you! :o)

First, a Timber Wolf? Jeez :o)

Second, a Clanner thug? Jeez :o)

Third, I liked the imagery of me knocking open the gates but couldn't I have had my Apocalypse? (see bone 1) Jeez :o)

Fourth, thanks :o)

By Medron Pryde Sorry dude....I looked at your notes on the Memory Core's painting area, took your favorite 'Mech, gave it the colors of your favorite unit, and went from there. I actually did that for quite a few people.

If your tastes have changed...well...sorry....;-)

By Frank Vickers My favourite Mech in the MemCore is my Apocalypse....and I'm the one with the Black and Gold paint job, not Abbas :o)

Still, I am honoured to have been included even if I was only there to blow away some Smoked Kitties. What more can a Wolf ask for? :o)

By Medron Pryde I said you were in the colors of Golden Keshik...I think...let me check....ok....your 'Mech was black and gold....Abbas' was gold and black...there is a difference...;-)

Note that for both of you, I took what appeared to be your favorite 'Mech based on your notes in the Memcore and looked at your painted minis where applicable....I wanted to have some fun after all.....hehehe

By Frank Vickers Oh, sorry. I thought you had me in a all gold Timber Wolf. Must have mis-read the post :o)

I am not trying to give you a hard time, and I really am thankful to be included, even as a highly skilled thug-like person :o)

You know me too well, especially if you put me on FF's wing :o)

Does this mean I am now one of the 'Warrior of the Dropship' or do I still have tro pass a test of some kind? :o)

By deathshadow Hey Owens, I haven't been reading these threads, but it's nice to see someone likes the TDX-02L.

By Medron Pryde I'd say you are a Warrior...though I suppose the final decision should be made by our tablecloth wearing scotsman....;-)

Hmmm...who wants a toga party?

By Frank Vickers *Dances around the room hopping shouting "TOGA! TOGA! TOGA!"*

By deathshadow Shall we make that BYOB&B. (bring your own booz and bimbos?)

Editor:  So ends the Heir to the Dugong Project.  I hope you have enjoyed this story.  If I had known it would have taken (Editor:  Post ends mysteriously.)


Editor:  And now that you have read this, please read the epic Clams of Kerensky, found in the Fanfic message board of HeavyMetalPro.com!