-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

Prologue

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
Atreus
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?"

"Yep."

"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

Luthien,
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?”

“No.”

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."

"Sir?"

"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
Atreus
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...

"Ai..."

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.

"WHO WANTS SOME!! COME AND GET IT WHILE IT'S HOT"

By archmore

well here my feeble attempt

Chapter ???????

(Editor: Chapter 11)

Outreach
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?"
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
Periphery
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.

*********
Meanwhile
*********

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
Hsien

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
Periphery

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