clarissaexplainsbatchall

[clarissaexplainsbatchall]

Clarissa was not bred to war. She was freeborn, as was her entire star. Five people for whom war was a choice, not an obligation. They were not here to fight.

The purpose of her star was to represent her clan to the new Star League and show a message of support for it, though perhaps a single star of mostly second line Mechs piloted by freeborn was its own kind of message to Alaric Ward. In either case Clarissa's primary goal was the negotiation of trade and supplies to the front line units and to provide profit for Clan Sea Fox.

This did not mean that they were incapable of fighting.

"Tiger 3, Tiger 4, keep their heads down. Tiger 5, get in there and tell us what we're up against; I'm right behind you. Tiger 2, if anything gets brave kill it."

From behind Clarissa's Mad Cat III a swarm of long range missiles flew overhead, arcing up and then down into a carpet of explosions across the entrance to the drop port. A Coyotl raced ahead of her towards the walls and she triggered her MASC to keep up. By now the main assault should have pulled the defenders towards the front of the facility allowing Tiger Star to secure the landing pad with minimal resistance.

Should have.

A Mech, large and angular, painted the stark white of the Word of Blake stepped into view, blocking the entrance to the port. Clarissa didn't wait for identification. Her rotary autocannon roared with the fury of a freight train and she slammed a quarter ton of caseless ammunition into the enemy making it stagger backwards.

The honor code of Clan Warriors demanded that she now face this enemy in one on one combat. Any other star in any other clan might have followed those rules. Instead Tiger's two heavy Mechs hit it with another wave of missiles, coating the Blakist machine in explosions. The Coyotl darted past it as it reeled, pouring laser fire into one of its legs as it slipped inside the drop port.

A sharp crack of a sonic boom and the scream of shearing metal was the sound of Roderick's gauss rifle taking that same leg almost completely off of the enemy machine. It stumbled, tried to put weight on the injured leg, and Clarissa watched as the limb bent, then snapped, sending the Mech falling forward into its stomach.

It tried to rise, and Clarissa pushed her MASC harder. As the enemy machine levered itself up her Mad Cat's foot came down on its back and slammed it back down onto its face. Through her enhanced sensor suite Clarissa could feel the Blakist cockpit shatter as her Mech continued its sprint over its back.

Her stomach lurched, but she swallowed down the bile. It wasn't her first kill, and as much as she hoped otherwise it most likely wouldn't be her last. She triggered comms to Melissa to update her, "Sharks in the kiddie pool. Chomp chomp."

@khanhannahlewis

Operation LATERAL

0430 hours

October 11, 3153 (D+5)

Helios

Star Colonel Astrid Tseng walked her Executioner across the snowy terrain of Helios. Beside her walked her lover, Major Isidora of the Star League Defense Force's 1st Royal Helios BattleMech Regiment. The Archangel assault 'Mech she piloted - if that was the right word for controlling a 'Mech via direct neural interface - had been painted the standard SLDF green, but with a stripe of white and red on the left torso, opposite the Cameron star on the right torso.

The other 'Mechs of her command - all ex-Manei Domini like Isidora - followed behind the pair as they trudged their way through the snowfall of the early morning, the constant aurora in the sky providing a scintillating and almost wondrous backdrop.

In the peripheral vision of her 'Mech's holographic 360-degree display, Astrid could see another column, roughly 500 meters to her right, the 'Mechs white, black, and purple paint marking them as the Clawtake Trinary under Star Colonel Jehan. Elementals in their battle armor were visible riding the 'Mechs like remoras attached to sharks.

Astrid had attempted to have a discussion with Jehan about who between them would have operational command, as both of them held the rank of Star Colonel within the Clans. However, it seemed that Jehan was under the assumption that all the Totem Warriors, including Astrid, were in fact SLDF - and since this was an SLDF operation, SLDF rank took precedence. Astrid had considering telling Jehan that, technically, as a mercenary on detached duty, she held no formal SLDF rank, thus leaving them with the question. But Jehan seemed resolute in thinking of Astrid as being in charge, and she did not want to confuse the younger warrior, who was by now on his -third? fourth? fifth? - concussion of the operation, so she accepted command and let the matter drop.

To her left, keeping pace with the other columns, was Star Commander Clarissa, her star, and detached combat vehicle, battle armor and infantry forces from the Combined Arms Mercenary Group.

In total, 54 'Mechs, several dozen battle armored infantry, a number of combat vehicles, and a few platoons of elite infantry were all pushing toward a manufacturing town and cargo dropport in the mountains northeast of Coen City.

Astrid pitied the Blakists. They did not stand a chance. She hoped they would be smart and surrender without much fight. But she knew better than to hope for that.

@clarissaexplainsbatchall

[clarissaexplainsbatchall]

Not impractical enough.

Got up to 10 tons of cargo you need moved very very fast, through dangerous terrain? Want to make moving it also just dangerous by nature?

Behold, the Courier. Tremble before its...2 ATM-3's yeah it's not good (it can at least use JJ's to cheese WiGE movement rules) also way, way too expensive for a cargo runner. But hey, it's an omni-WiGE! :3

@clarissaexplainsbatchall I believe you may be interested in this...

[clarissaexplainsbatchall]

Ten minutes to estimated contact and Clarissa sent three sharp clicks over comms. Her lance slowed down. They weren't meant to hit first. If they did they'd get annihilated. Julie's ECM came online to cover the advance of their flanking force.

Two more clicks and everything came to a stop while Clarissa checked the satellite images and maps again. Outside snow fell on the ferroglass of her cockpit and melted off instantly. She switched her coms to extremely low power, only capable of reaching a few hundred meters. "Remember our priorities. First we secure the fuel storage and pumps, then any landed dropships, then the cargo."

Roderick's voice came in tinny and full of static as he responded, "And kill anything that tries to stop us, Star Commander."

Clarissa sighed, "Remove threats with as little collateral damage as possible. The less we destroy the more we keep, including enemy 'Mechs and vehicles. This is going to be our best way to get resupply fast, and the more intact the drop port is the better."

Ben's voice came next, "What if they blow the fuel tanks?"

"That's why they're top priority, Ben. Make sure that doesn't happen."

"And if it's a choice between taking a PPC to the cockpit or letting them blow the place?" Roderick asked with a wry lilt to his tone.

"Then I expect you to take one for the team. I will."

@khanhannahlewis

Operation LATERAL

0430 hours

October 11, 3153 (D+5)

Helios

Star Colonel Astrid Tseng walked her Executioner across the snowy terrain of Helios. Beside her walked her lover, Major Isidora of the Star League Defense Force's 1st Royal Helios BattleMech Regiment. The Archangel assault 'Mech she piloted - if that was the right word for controlling a 'Mech via direct neural interface - had been painted the standard SLDF green, but with a stripe of white and red on the left torso, opposite the Cameron star on the right torso.

The other 'Mechs of her command - all ex-Manei Domini like Isidora - followed behind the pair as they trudged their way through the snowfall of the early morning, the constant aurora in the sky providing a scintillating and almost wondrous backdrop.

In the peripheral vision of her 'Mech's holographic 360-degree display, Astrid could see another column, roughly 500 meters to her right, the 'Mechs white, black, and purple paint marking them as the Clawtake Trinary under Star Colonel Jehan. Elementals in their battle armor were visible riding the 'Mechs like remoras attached to sharks.

Astrid had attempted to have a discussion with Jehan about who between them would have operational command, as both of them held the rank of Star Colonel within the Clans. However, it seemed that Jehan was under the assumption that all the Totem Warriors, including Astrid, were in fact SLDF - and since this was an SLDF operation, SLDF rank took precedence. Astrid had considering telling Jehan that, technically, as a mercenary on detached duty, she held no formal SLDF rank, thus leaving them with the question. But Jehan seemed resolute in thinking of Astrid as being in charge, and she did not want to confuse the younger warrior, who was by now on his -third? fourth? fifth? - concussion of the operation, so she accepted command and let the matter drop.

To her left, keeping pace with the other columns, was Star Commander Clarissa, her star, and detached combat vehicle, battle armor and infantry forces from the Combined Arms Mercenary Group.

In total, 54 'Mechs, several dozen battle armored infantry, a number of combat vehicles, and a few platoons of elite infantry were all pushing toward a manufacturing town and cargo dropport in the mountains northeast of Coen City.

Astrid pitied the Blakists. They did not stand a chance. She hoped they would be smart and surrender without much fight. But she knew better than to hope for that.

@clarissaexplainsbatchall

[clarissaexplainsbatchall]

Clarissa's breath came slow and steady as she prepared her mind for the inevitable combat to come. No matter how many fights she was in the tingles crawled up her spine before every one; old animal survival instincts demanding safety. But one did not achieve their goals in safety, especially not in the clans.

Her custom neurohelm transmitted all the information from her 'Mech's sensors directly into her visual cortex giving her a heads up display inside of her own brain. Despite her blindness at the controls of Bikini she could see better than anyone, a full 360 degrees of sight in multiple spectrums at once.

"Disengage weapon safeties," she said on her command channel. One by one the displays of her starmates flashed green and ready. "I want LRM cover as soon as we engage. Target priority is anything targeting the infantry, quiaff?"

"Aff," they said in unison.

She pushed her throttle forward and broke away from the main column, "Star Colonel, this is Sea Fox element. Proceeding to target area. Good hunting."

@the-clawtake

Operation LATERAL

0430 hours

October 11, 3153 (D+5)

Helios

Star Colonel Astrid Tseng walked her Executioner across the snowy terrain of Helios. Beside her walked her lover, Major Isidora of the Star League Defense Force's 1st Royal Helios BattleMech Regiment. The Archangel assault 'Mech she piloted - if that was the right word for controlling a 'Mech via direct neural interface - had been painted the standard SLDF green, but with a stripe of white and red on the left torso, opposite the Cameron star on the right torso.

The other 'Mechs of her command - all ex-Manei Domini like Isidora - followed behind the pair as they trudged their way through the snowfall of the early morning, the constant aurora in the sky providing a scintillating and almost wondrous backdrop.

In the peripheral vision of her 'Mech's holographic 360-degree display, Astrid could see another column, roughly 500 meters to her right, the 'Mechs white, black, and purple paint marking them as the Clawtake Trinary under Star Colonel Jehan. Elementals in their battle armor were visible riding the 'Mechs like remoras attached to sharks.

Astrid had attempted to have a discussion with Jehan about who between them would have operational command, as both of them held the rank of Star Colonel within the Clans. However, it seemed that Jehan was under the assumption that all the Totem Warriors, including Astrid, were in fact SLDF - and since this was an SLDF operation, SLDF rank took precedence. Astrid had considering telling Jehan that, technically, as a mercenary on detached duty, she held no formal SLDF rank, thus leaving them with the question. But Jehan seemed resolute in thinking of Astrid as being in charge, and she did not want to confuse the younger warrior, who was by now on his -third? fourth? fifth? - concussion of the operation, so she accepted command and let the matter drop.

To her left, keeping pace with the other columns, was Star Commander Clarissa, her star, and detached combat vehicle, battle armor and infantry forces from the Combined Arms Mercenary Group.

In total, 54 'Mechs, several dozen battle armored infantry, a number of combat vehicles, and a few platoons of elite infantry were all pushing toward a manufacturing town and cargo dropport in the mountains northeast of Coen City.

Astrid pitied the Blakists. They did not stand a chance. She hoped they would be smart and surrender without much fight. But she knew better than to hope for that.

@clarissaexplainsbatchall

[clarissaexplainsbatchall]

Caln Sea Fox is announcing a sale on surface to orbit weaponry.

And so the so-called Star League shows its true colors. Friends and followers in the galactic community, our beautiful capital city of Chang-an has been razed to the ground by Alaric Ward's allies in Clan Snow Raven. Millions of civilians slaughtered in the pursuit of a military target, and our beloved Chancellor missing. Where is next? Atreus? Luthien? Friends, I call on you to condemn these terrorist acts and end this threat before it strikes more worlds.

Furthermore, Clan Snow Raven must be destroyed.

[clarissaexplainsbatchall]

I would like to remind everyone in this discussion that ComStar is an honored competitor and Clan Sea Fox does not support the degradation of our worthy opponents. Please consider donating to them. They are having a rough time right now and could use the help.

There are comstar agents outside my leopard

[clarissaexplainsbatchall]

The dungeons were... Not. Clarissa had insisted on keeping authority over her prisoner despite not having anywhere to keep him and so he was being held in an empty prefab ammo dump to SLDF had erected before she'd arrived. Guarding the prisoner were a pair of mercs from one of the many commands that were on Helios and she hadn't bothered to pay attention to which when she simply bought all the ammunition and the dump itself, then hired them for security. The ammunition was now safely stored with an SLDF stockpile and the the dump was a Sea Fox prison with very thick walls.

She arrived with a paper bowl of some kind of stew and a gallon of water and nodded to the guards as she arrived. Neither saluted, which was good. It would have made their arrangement even more awkward than it was. When they unlocked the door and slid the heavy steel open she entered what was basically a very quickly built warehouse intended to keep explosions inside from becoming dead people outside. Cheap, flickering flourescent lights lit the place, which was around 200 square meters of cold, dimly lit open space separated from the door by a locked steel barred fence. As a consideration for the prisoner there was a space heater on Clarissa's side of the cage.

Maybe it was more like a dungeon than she'd intended.

The prisoner was a mystery. Adept Colson Hargrader, Word of Blake Militia, Manei Domini. He sat nowhere near the space heater, his legs crossed and shoulders straight. He still wore his MechWarrior cooling suit that he'd been captured in, but skin tight as it was it did nothing to hide the extensive cybernetic enhancements he'd had. Veins of silver and copper crawled up from the neckline of his clothing and swarmed up the side of his bleak face. Each line ended in a metal protrusion of some kind; either a port or an armored bulge under his skin, except the four distinct gold lines of circuitry that abruptly terminated in a glaring red lens where his left eye should have been.

"Star Commander," he said in a way that might have been an attempt at pleasantry but was instead an overtly threatening squeal like a magnet across a speaker deep in his throat. Clarissa winced.

"Adept Hargrader, a pleasure to see you. I've come to speak with you once again." It was not a pleasure to see him, but years of practice as a merchant had made her capable of sincerely smiling at anyone, no matter how vile.

"About peace, I assume." Except for his mouth and eyes the rest of his body was unnaturally still; a statue that could speak. Perhaps it was some kind of side effect of his implants, but Clarissa thought it was more likely one of his religion and aesthetic lifestyle. Either way if he was ever found lifeless and still on the ground the guards outside had orders to check for life with gunfire. "I wonder how the rest of your society would feel if they knew how committed to it you were."

Clarissa ignored the jab. "I still extend to you the offer. You may lay down your arms and live a life after this."

"A very lackluster offer, Star Commander. You are a member of Clan Sea Fox, aren't you? Merchants and bargainers extraordinaire, and yet you keep coming to me with a product I have no interest in. Whatever happened to Bondsmen, hmm?" He tilted his head almost imperceptibly. A joke. "Tie me up with bonds of honor and make me slave for the sake of my enemy until I become them myself. It's such an elegant form of tyranny."

She maintained her pleasant merchant's smile despite the philosophical blade pressed into her breast. Sometimes he spoke words that she herself had never dared to say out loud. His brazen contempt for the clans was not mirrored exactly in her heart, but sometimes she caught glinting reflections which sent ice through her spine. "Manei Domini have never submitted to being bondsmen," she deflected. "I wouldn't insult you with the offer, but neither do I wish to see you held as a prisoner for your entire life. Whatever there is left of it, I mean."

The extensive cybernetic enhancement of the Word of Blake led quickly to neural degeneration, psychosis, and death. Everyone knew it, especially the fanatics themselves. Martyrs for the cause.

"Left of it, Star Commander? Why, there was hardly a life before all this." He finally moved the rest of his body and it was unnerving. Too smooth, too graceful. Every little tensing of muscle underneath his tight cooling suit was nanometer precise. It was as disturbing as seeing a math equation dance. "Tell me. Do you enjoy your enhancements?"

Clarissa unconsciously touched her ear and Hargrader mirrored the gesture exactly in real time. It made her stomach roil uncomfortably. Hidden behind her ear were the implants that connected to her "glasses" and the cameras therein, transmitting the images directly to her visual cortex and allowing her to see despite being born blind. And yes. Yes she enjoyed them. "They're different."

"Unsophisticated," Hargrader said, the red lens of his left eye reflecting her face, which no longer held the merchant's smile. "That is why you crave peace, Star Commander. Because you are unsophisticated."

"I hardly think a desire for peace is unsophisticated," she said, but she could hear the defensiveness in her voice. His squealing half electronic voice was crawling under her skin. She half expected to look down and see those copper and silver circuits spreading across her like a virus.

Hargrader leaned in towards her, "Star Commander. We live in a galaxy defined by two things. Battle, and the technology used to win it. That you don't understand that is why you are unsophisticated. If you knew; if you understood, you would not fear me. You would envy me. You would see yourself as what you are. Weak. Soft. Mere carrion for the scavengers to pick clean when the fires of conflict claim you."

"And yet I beat you," She says, swallowing. In her mind she felt the heat of her 'Mech's cockpit. Heard the shearing sound of metal tearing under the onslaught of the enemy's guns. Her stomach dropped as she recalled the feeling of a damaged gyro sending her senses reeling.

"Did you?" He asked, and his head cocked fully sideways like a curious bird. "I'm still alive. And I do believe that I will be long after you and your talk of peace are gone."

"I doubt that," Clarissa lied. This man was safer here than she would be for this war.

"Oh, I don't," Hargrader said. And now he stood, coming to his full height. She'd only seen him standing once before, and it had been from the cockpit of her 'Mech staring down at him crawling from the ruined corpse of his own. Tiny. Beaten. Now he was neither.

Adept Hargrader towered over her, well over six feet and more than 150kg of muscle and reinforced bone. Clarissa took a step back away from the bars. She told herself that it was simply logical to stay out of his reach, but she knew it was cold fear. "You fear me, Star Commander. You fear what they have made me. But you have seen nothing. I am a child compared to what is coming for you."

That was new. That was actual information and not just verbal sparring. "There's nothing you and your people have that we haven't seen before."

He laughed and the sound made Clarissa cover her ears. Razors cutting into a chalkboard. He leaned in close to the bars and his lens flared, "I am nothing before the storm you will soon face. I have heard it on the wind. In the electrical tickles that slide across my receivers even in this box you have placed me in. We have achieved things you could never imagine. I stand before you little more than a sharpened rock compared to the nuclear weapon on its way to you. It is coming, Star Commander. And when it arrives I hope your screams are loud enough for me to hear."

Contact

Helios

Langogne

0200 Hours

The SLDF hover APC thrummed along what passed for a road this far from civilization, the winter storm buffeting the hovercraft this way and that. 

Lt. Charles Strebeck watched the 3d tac map from his position in the troop section of the multi ton machine. He and his platoon of 25 troopers had been sent to the town of Langogne on orders from command. 

Apparently they had intercepted a high level tightbeam communication from Word of Blake Forces, directed out here. 

Why, they did not know, but that’s what he was supposed to find out. He had 25 men and women, a hover APC, and, thudding along beside them, an SLDF Kit Fox piloted by Corporal Irma Hoyle, serving as the recon group’s heavy punch.

Not that he expected anything needed that much of a punch. Langogne wasn’t so much of a town as it was a village, nestled away in the mountainous forests of Helios, along the River Coen. And yet, this was the location of the message’s endpoint. More specifically, after reckoning the town proper, an abandoned church outside of town. It had taken some doing getting that out of the locals. None of them seemed keen on talking to the armed soldiers about it. Most had remained silent, and those that spoke had crossed themselves in a curious, furtive manner, and even then spoke sparingly. Still, it was enough to key the hunting party to their destination.

“Coming up on the target now, Lt. Strebeck.” said the driver over the comms.

Charles nodded, and addressed the four squads of SLDF infantry.

“Alright boys and girls, ready up. Time to see what the Word thinks is so important way the hell out here that warrants a senior ROM commander level encryption.”

He was greeted by twenty five “Sir yes sir’s!” and all present prepping their kit for a quick deployment.

A grin creased his weathered face. He triggered the comms to their heavy metal escort.

“Hear that mech jock?”

“Roger that, PBI, I’ll try to watch my step.” came the teasing reply. Her voice carried that sultry hint that likely wooed a good number of men.

He liked Hoyle, she was a competent mechwarrior, and a bit of a flirt, if he was honest. The two had worked together more than once in this operation, ferreting out Blakist elements that went to ground in the wake of the invasion. 

“Just make sure we don’t have any unpleasant heavy metal surprises.”

He received the double click of affirmation in response. At the same time, he felt the hovercraft slow, timed perfectly with the message he received from the driver.

“We’re at the target now, Lt. Good hunting.”

Charles grunted in reply and keyed the squad comms as the troop compartment hatches popped open, the green light bathing the interior now an angry red.

“Alright people, let’s move like we got a purpose! Go, go, go!”

The soldiers filed out like a well oiled machine, each squad of five splitting off to cover each other. Charles followed, Mauser 960 to his shoulder, slotting into Delta squad in perfect unison. The target, was a church, stone and local wood, it looked largely abandoned. Even so, there were signs of occupation. For one, the snow had been cleared recently, and he spied several sets of hassle covered footprints being filled with that same snow. 

He’d have to follow those up, but first, secure the area.

“Squad Alpha and Bravo, move up, Charlie and Delta, cover.” he whispered into the comms, receiving the double non verbal click of confirmation. The Alpha and Bravo moved up, Charlie and Delta covering the woods and the entrance and small windows of the church. 

—

In the woods, Cpl. Hoyle took up position, her Kit Fox hunkering down into a crouch to lower its profile, scanning for any possible concealed armor and mechs that may have been left behind as a trap. Her sensors showed all clear, with some interference from the church. She keyed the squad comms.

“Head’s up, can’t see into the church, but the woods are clear.”

“Roger, stay frosty” came the reply from Lt. Strebeck.

Irma resumed her sensor sweeps. Overhead, a full moon peeped through the winter storm clouds, then was gone in an instant. 

She shivered slightly. Not from the cold, the cockpit of her Kit Fox was pleasantly warm, but from… something… something she couldn’t place. Her eyes scanned the woods through the cockpit canopy. She had the niggling feeling that something was out there. Like the feeling you get walking alone in the woods, of unseen eyes watching you from all around. 

She recalled once on her homeworld, she had ventured out into the family farm’s cornfield at night when she was small. It had been a stupid decision, looking back. She could have gotten lost, or, god forbid, one of the local predators could have been using the corn as a place to bed down. An unlikely event but still. Nothing came of the adventure, however. She had run back inside after less than five minutes. Of course, there had been nothing there with her in the corn, just the childish fears of the dark and the unknown.

Still…

Irma checked the sensors again. 

Still nothing.

“Ugh, this place gives me the creeps…” she said to herself, watching the dark woods.

—

They waited with the stillness and patience of the dead.

It had been two hours since they had been activated. By their estimates, based on the weather and the physical records of the personnel stationed at the outpost, the three allies had most likely made it to and possible, across the river by now. With some luck, they would be picked up by loyal forces and shepherded to safety.

They turned their attention back to the enemy contacts. Across the side of their vision, information began to scroll by as they begin to assess the situation, mechanical eyes taking in as much information as possible.

/INITIATE SCAN

/SCANNING

/TARGETS IDENTIFIED

/INFANTRY - 25

/APC - HOVER - 1

/OMIMECH - KIT FOX - PRIME - 1

/INFANTRY KIT SCANNING…

/MINIMAL CYBERNETIC ENHANCEMENTS

/CLAN COPPER BASED BODY ARMOR

/CLANTECH MILITARY COMMUNICATOR, IR GOGGLES, RANGEFINDER, NIGHT VISION, HC MICRO POWER PACK

/MAUSER 960 RIFLE VARIANT - 20

/DISPOSABLE SRM LAUNCHERS - 5

/GRENADE LAUNCHER - 40MM - DRUM MAGAZINE - ANTIPERSONNEL AND HE ROUNDS - 5

/ASSORTED SIDEARMS AND CQC WEAPONS

/ASSESSING OP-FOR THREAT LEVEL

/…

/…

/…

/THREAT LEVEL: MINIMAL

/ENGAGE AT OWN DISCRETION

They had their orders however. They would see them done.

They continued to wait, passive sensors tracking the infantry troops as they closed in on the church.

—

Lt. Strebeck pushed into the building along with Delta and Charlie, the squads sweeping the lifeless pews and alter expertly. The chapel lead off in two ways, one, looking to lead to living quarters fro whatever priest used to manage this place, and the other, down, into what he supposed was a crypt.

He motioned for two squads to search the other rooms, while he took his own and Charlie down below. The air was thick and heavy. It smelled old, with the scents of burnt plastic and metal present as well, growing stronger as they descended.

Above, he knew Alpha and Bravo were sweeping the rooms. If there were any hostiles, they would find them.

The Charlie and Delta defended the stairs, past a heavy duty blast door. Whoever had been here had neglected to close it, likely, because they left in a hurry. The room beyond held a great deal of equipment, most if not all of it wrecked. Extensive fire and thermal damage made it impossible to tell what any of it was at first glance.

“Guessing thermite charges, sir.” said the leader of Charlie, Sgt. Teijo Oda. “Scrap what they couldn’t take with them.”

“Aff, start checking the equipment, see if you can get an idea of what…all this was.” Strebeck said, gesturing to the smoldering equipment.

“Hai, Lt.” Teijo replied, ordering his squad to start checking the wreckage, not just for what it might be, but for any potential boobytraps the Word might have left behind. They’d almost lost good people to IED’s and other more “creative” devices.

Charles toggled the comms for Alpha and Bravo.

“Alpha and Bravo, this is Delta Actual, report-“ he began, wincing slightly at the squeal of static over the comm bead at his ear.

“Alpha Actual-….reading-….interference-….personnel quarters-….comm unit sma-….”

“Say again Alpha Actual, getting significant interference my end.”

Charles toyed with the frequency of his communicator.

“Alpha Actual here, having t-…reading you, getting some inter-…. our end, found personnel quarters, recently aband-….found comms unit smashed-…quick job, in a hurry my g-….” came the voice of Sgt. Justin Navarro. It was better, but still.

“Delta Actual, reading you, regroup in the chapel and secure the area.”

“Roger that.”

He looked around the crypt of ruined equipment. It didn’t look like much of anything. Not enough for any really important equipment that he knew of. But something here was worth a communication directly from Word HQ.

Charles felt a growing unease creep into his gut. Something was wrong. He toggled the platoon wide comms.

—

The squads had broken up, into two groups of two.

Smart, that way each group could cover and support the other, with the Omnimech outside to support if need be.

Not smart enough.

As the two squads searching the personnel quarters returned to the chapel, they at last, moved.

–

Sgt. Justin Navarro lead Alpha into the chapel, followed by Bravo behind them, again, sweeping the room. 

All clear. 

God this place was fucking weird. Since they had entered this damned church, he had felt his skin crawl. The sooner they were outside the better.

As Bravo moved in to secure the entrance to the chapel, and he directed Alpha to watch the way they came from, he paused. 

A noise, soft, barely audible, but it had been there.

It had come from…

Above.

He looked up, swinging his rifle up as he did. 

His eyes grew wide at what he saw.

“CONTACT!” was all he had time to yell before it was on them.

–

Charles’s head snapped around towards the stairs. 

He had heard Sgt. Navarro yell.

He also heard the distinctive whine and pulse of laser fire.

And screaming.

“Charlie and Delta, with me!” he shouted to the two squads he was with. Without question, they formed up and began charging up the stairs.

“Alpha and Bravo squads, report, what is the nature of the contact?!” he yelled over the comms. He only received the sounds of screaming and laser fire in return.

It only took a handful of seconds to mount the stairs back to the chapel. The scene that greeted them was straight out of a nightmare. 

Alpha was down. All of them. Blood, and parts of them, were everywhere. And Bravo was…

Something was killing his men. 

A shape, half shadow half something that flickered between church wall and stained glass, was in the middle of the squad. 

He watched as it effortlessly cut one of the soldiers trying to bring their rifle to bear in half, the distinct whine of a vibro blade audible from where he stood. It was so fast, the trooper didn’t seem to realize anything was wrong immediately until they fell in two. In the time it took for their body to hit the stone floor, the thing had lunged and grabbed another soldier, closing the distance and knocking their grenade launcher away with ease.

There was a crack, and the soldier was tossed aside, bent in half at the waist the wrong way.

Sgt. Lene Dalgaard, leader of Bravo, was firing full auto one handed at the thing as it turned to her. Her other hand was gone, still gripping the combat harness of a now headless soldier at her feet. 

The enemy seemed to flow this way and that, like smoke. If any of the laser pulses made contact it didn’t show.

An arm flicked out, and Lene died. She fell like a puppet with cut strings, a smoking hole in her forehead from the bright red laser pulse that shot from the arm.

The shape of the thing solidified. 

It was robbed in black that seemed to swallow what light there was in the room. And tall. Easily over 2 meters at it straighten up.

Then it turned to look at them.

Twin pinpoints of red light regarded them from the black eye sockets of the leering metal skull of a monstrous wolf. It tilted its head slightly.

‘Fire! Light the bastard up!” Charles forced out.

The men and women under his command obeyed, fingers depressing triggers to send a blizzard of green laser pulses through the air.

The air through where the enemy had just been standing. It had darted out of the way, seemingly at the same time as they had begun firing. It was just a blur now, as it jinked this way and that at inhuman speeds, scaling the walls and support pillars of the chapel as the lasers chased it this way and that.

“Grenades! Before it can close!” Charles shouted, as the thing landed in the middle of the butchered squads, before leaping back to a wall to escape the barrage again. 

It threw something at them before ducking behind a column. 

The upper half of one of Bravo’s soldiers collided with one of Charlie squad, knocking them down. Charles registered dimly that it was one of the soldiers assigned to support weapon duty. Mauser 960 rifle, and a disposable…

SRM

“Scatter! Enemy launcher!” he shouted, just as the thing darted out of cover, the bulky shape of a launcher over its shoulder. 

The cough of the launcher was lost in the roar of the missile impacting between Charlie and Delta, tossing men and woman around like rag dolls and sending stone and fire snickering through the room. 

Charles was knocked several meters through the air, landing heavily in the midst of ruined pews, knocking the air out of him. 

He blacked out. 

When he opened his eyes again, everything was spinning, smoke and fire, and ringing.

“….fuck…” he croaked, forcing himself up on his hands and knees. The Clan Copper of his armor and helmet had saved him from the worst, but he was still in a bad way. 

He felt the broken rib floating in his chest.

Shaking his head to clear it, he reached for his sidearm, his rifle last somewhere in the chaos.

Then he saw it. It was casually walking down the chapel towards him, skeletal face leering at him. It looked like it was grinning at him.

Bastard.

Charlie raised his pistol, intending on going down fighting.

Movement from behind it caught his eye. The stone dust and blood covered shape of Sgt. Oda lunged from the smoke, vibro-katana in hand, swinging the blade to decapitate the monster. Beside him, another soldier, one from Delta, ran at the thing with the vibro-bayonet of his rifle deployed. 

It spun, meeting both blades in a shower of sparks, multi segmented blades like those of some kind of insect deflecting the blows, the howl of vibro blades meeting echoing through the chapel.

“Sir! Get out of here!” shouted Teijo, blade clashing again and again with the thing’s own.

Charles blinked, before forcing his screaming body to its feet. A proper weapon, he needed-

There, he spotted one of the fallen Mauser rifles, and staggered over to it. He knew Tejio and the other soldier wouldn’t last long. Uncoordinated hands grabbed the weapon, checking the battery and grenade launcher load. The battery was gone, the feed mechanism warped, but the grenade…

Would have to do.

He spun in time to see Tejio die. He had been run through by the thing, twin blades piercing through his chest armor with ease. At its feet, the other soldier lay dead, rifle and body split cleanly in two.

Tejio snarled through bloodied teeth, and in a sudden movement, thrust his own blade forward towards the things torso. This last desperate act of defiance, was thwarted with a shower of sparks, as yet another arm lashed out from within the things robes, parrying the blade.

The thing cocked its head to the side, and flung its arms wide, letting the body of Tejio fall in a heap at its feet.

Charlie shouldered the rifle, and fired the underslung grenade launcher.

The grenade detonated at its feet, the resulting explosion kicking up obscuring clouds of smoke and stone dust.

Charles let himself sag slightly to his knees again. 

That was-

The smoke started to clear, a tall, dark shape began to resolve itself…twin points of red light stared out at him, followed by the grinning skull.

Charles sighed, heavily. Of course it wouldn’t be enough.

He switched comm lines, picking up his pistol and unsheathing his combat knife.

“Hoyle, mission is FUBAR…total platoon losses…” he said, calmly, watching the thing as it closed on him leisurely. “Need you to bring down the building”

“Wha-…Come again, you-“ she started

“Just do it Hoyle!” he barked at her.

He pried the helmet off his head, and tossed it away.

“…just…what the fuck are you?” he rasped at the thing that had butchered his people.

It cocked its head, as if considering the response.

Before it could respond, the world exploded in fire and noise.

–

Adept Marie Dufresne turned back the way they had came, pausing as she stepped from the small inflatable raft on the far bank of the River Coen. Acolyte Gilabert noticed her pause.

“Adept, is something wrong?” he asked, looking up at her from where he stood holding the raft in place. Acolyte Nistor sat on the bank, panting heavily. The crossing had not been easy, and they had all had to help man the small inflatable craft. It was lucky they made it at all.

“Listen” she replied.

Over the wind, came the sounds of mech scale weapons fire, back in the direction of Langogne.

–

Irma’s fingers held down the trigger on her controls, sending Autocannon shells, lasers, and SRMs into the building, 

She knew Charles, knew he wouldn’t make that call without good reason.

Still, it was hard to do it, as she watched the church crumble and burn.

“Jesus christ, what the hell Corporal?!” came th driver of the APC.

Something, a shape, darted from the building. Her targeting systems tried to track it, but slid from it, as if it refused to target it.

“What the-“

The shape was already to the APC by the time she opened the comms.

Before she spoke, she heard the driver speak again.

“What, what the- oh JESUS FUC-“ 

The voice devolved into a scream of panic and pain, which abruptly cut off.

What the fuck, what the fuck is going on?!

She turned her mech to face the hover APC, just as something…the thing from before, pulled itself out of the open hatch.

“Oh fuck, what the fuck?!” she blurted, toggling her weapons and swinging the mechs arms to fire. She opened up again, firing everything at the nightmare that had crawled out.

The APC detonated in a rumbling billowing fireball, unable to take the omnimech’s firepower.

Did she get it?

She had to have.

Nothing, not even Battle Armor could withstand that much punishment.

She tried to remember, she had seen it go up with the APC.

Right?

Something clanged against the closed hatch of her mech.

Oh no.

She threw the controls of her mech to the side, hoping to shake…whatever was out there off. She swung the arms of her mech down, trying to swat the thing from her mech before-

The hatch gave way with a shriek of metal.

It started to crawl inside.

She screamed, grabbing for something, anything, to stop the leering thing from getting too her. She grabbed the pistol at her hip, and started to fire.

The rounds sparked and flashed off the things metal skull. It grinned at her.

Her other hand found the ejection lever, as her sidearm clicked empty.

Irma yanked on the lever, the ejection system of her omnimech firing, explosive bolts of her canopy detonating and launching her through the disintegrating canopy.

She was still screaming as she hit the canopy of trees above the small mech, and the world went black.

–

0300 Hours

The villagers hid in their houses.

They had warned the soldiers not to go up to the old church.

They had heard the sounds, the shooting, the explosions.

Now they watched as the battlemech they had seen go with the soldiers, walk back through town, unhurried.

There had been a terrible evil there.

Now, it was free.

The Kit Fox headed off, back the way the soldiers had originally come.

Toward Coen. And the SLDF.

–

0630 Hours

The figure trudged through the snow, one foot infront of the other. 

Beaten and bloody, they walked on, empty pistol in a limp hand. Mechanically, they walked, numb to the cold, the world, to everything. 

One foot in front of the other.

It had taken the figure an hour to reach the outskirts of Langogne, ignoring the handful of villagers that had tried to help them.

All that mattered was one foot in front of the other.

[clarissaexplainsbatchall]

We also sell the "classic" flavor which is preferred by some customers with limited taste buds.

replacing the Merc Company Water Cooler with a tank of Panera Death Lemonade

[clarissaexplainsbatchall]

Clarissa's arms go up over her head in a stretch, then she leans back in her chair apparently quite satisfied with her bird's breakfast of fruit. "Since I will be assaulting the drop port proper with a relatively small force and I have addressed what intel we have on the site the rest of my part is logistics, I believe. I am afraid that if we keep discussing that part of the plan I shall end up with the better part of a Galaxy coming along which defeats the purpose of a scalpel strike to reduce collateral damage."

She gestures vaguely around, her glasses still off and her eyes unfocused and staring blankly at nothing. "By all means allow me to offer insights if you find them useful, but I am just a Star Commander. I doubt there is much I could contribute in such esteemed company."

@the-clawtake

Star Colonel Jehan MacKenzie, reporting for duty, Commanding General. I understand we are still tasked with taking the dropport, in concert with Star Captain Tseng and her bondsmen? Also, I do not suppose I could sit? It has been a long run from Kinship, and my ribs are complaining vociferously.

Certainly, Jehan, please, come in.

[clarissaexplainsbatchall]

It's actually more correct to say The Military Industrial Simple. Someone always wants to buy something made to kill people.

The only true universal currency in the Inner Sphere is alcohol and ammunition.

Aff. And one currency can buy another, in either direction, depending on the planet one is on.

Dear old Adam would have said information was currency as well, since it counts as ammunition and all...

[clarissaexplainsbatchall]

NAME: Clarissa

BLOODNAME: N/A

DECANTED: Freebirth (Born 10/23/3125)

PRIMARY GENETIC CONTRIBUTIONS: Ophelie (Scientist caste), Norris (Scientist caste)

LISTED TRAINING (SOURCE)

- MechWarrior (CLAN SEA FOX)

- Merchant Training (CLAN SEA FOX)

- Expert Fencing (Tharkad Royal Fencing Academy)

- Special Operations (CLAN SEA FOX)

KNOWN PARTICIPATED OPERATIONS

- Operation Touchdown (3153)

- REDACTED (3151)

- Raid on Ponzan (3145)

-Trial of Possession #43216A (3144)

CONFIRMED OPERATIONAL STATS

MECH KILLS - 4 (+2 shared, +1 probable)

CV KILLS - 2 (+0 shared, +0 probable)

BATTLE ARMOR KILLS - 0 (+0 probable)

KNOWN INJURIES

- Mechwarrior typical injuries. Treated

- Radiation Poisoning. Treated

CURRENT OPERATIONAL STATUS

[High Value Asset]

[clarissaexplainsbatchall]

This is why I just prefer to buy ad space.

Rank the Clans.

Oh no, nonono. I'm not getting called to batchall that easily.

Furthermore, Clan Goliath Scorpion is weird or something idk

[clarissaexplainsbatchall]

"I do hope he does not touch my 'Mech. I have everything in it just like I like it, and the sensor suite is extremely customized. It would take several weeks to get it back to its current settings." She takes off her glasses with an audible click behind her ears, and her head shifts slightly, no longer looking at anyone in particular.

"I rely on those sensors rather a lot, you know."

@the-clawtake

Star Colonel Jehan MacKenzie, reporting for duty, Commanding General. I understand we are still tasked with taking the dropport, in concert with Star Captain Tseng and her bondsmen? Also, I do not suppose I could sit? It has been a long run from Kinship, and my ribs are complaining vociferously.

Certainly, Jehan, please, come in.

[clarissaexplainsbatchall]

"I have some rather useful pillows I could sell you, Star Colonel. We could glue them to your neurohelm," Clarissa says with a smile. She's finished off her fruit now and seems satisfied with that for someone who claims not to have eaten all day.

"Though I do fear what the Wolves might say about a soft headed Bear. Crash foam perhaps?"

@the-clawtake

Star Colonel Jehan MacKenzie, reporting for duty, Commanding General. I understand we are still tasked with taking the dropport, in concert with Star Captain Tseng and her bondsmen? Also, I do not suppose I could sit? It has been a long run from Kinship, and my ribs are complaining vociferously.

Certainly, Jehan, please, come in.

[clarissaexplainsbatchall]

Yes, but a soft shutdown is only temporarily useful. Something that could immobilize the myomer or perhaps permanently shut down the fusion reactor, at least enough to require a tech to fix it, is the dream.

I have several questions:

1) What, in your opinion, are the easiest, and the most difficult 'Mechs to sell?

2) The same question for weaponry.

3) What is the oddest piece of 'Mech equipment you have ever encountered?

4) If you could invent a new piece of 'Mech equipment, what would it be?

- STCAP Xerxes Truscott, Clan Star Adder

1) The easiest 'Mechs to sell are industrialmechs. They are inexpensive and always a necessity on every planet. I can sell ten Busters or Powermans for every Battlemech. As for the hardest? It is nearly impossible to sell midgrade Omnimechs. They are too expensive for planetary militias, but not flashy enough for most who can afford them. They fit into a specific niche where nobody wants them for completely opposing reasons.

2) The easiest weapon to sell is a small caliber hunting rifle, easy to maintain, inexpensive, and useful. If you mean at 'Mech scale I would say the medium laser. They are almost never equipped one at a time, they are inexpensive, and anyone with a spare ton or two wants them. The hardest to sell is a shield. It seems that most do it yourself MechTechs believe that they can cobble one together with stray sheets of armor plating and that they will serve as well as the specifically engineered and manufactured ones.

3) The oddest piece of equipment I have ever found was, and I took a particular interest in it considering my own situation, a set of jacks in the cockpit of a Banshee which allowed the right arm to be used with the same neurostimulis apparatus as the MechWarrior's prosthetic arm. He had lost it below the elbow in a MechBay accident. He was quite adept with that Banshee's arm and even offered to pour me tea with it, though I had to decline.

4) If I could create a new piece of 'Mech equipment it would be an improved version of the Word of Blake's TSEMP. A weapon capable of disabling an enemy machine without substantial harm to the crew or the machine itself would provide a multitude of strategic advantages.

[clarissaexplainsbatchall]

I have several questions:

1) What, in your opinion, are the easiest, and the most difficult 'Mechs to sell?

2) The same question for weaponry.

3) What is the oddest piece of 'Mech equipment you have ever encountered?

4) If you could invent a new piece of 'Mech equipment, what would it be?

- STCAP Xerxes Truscott, Clan Star Adder

1) The easiest 'Mechs to sell are industrialmechs. They are inexpensive and always a necessity on every planet. I can sell ten Busters or Powermans for every Battlemech. As for the hardest? It is nearly impossible to sell midgrade Omnimechs. They are too expensive for planetary militias, but not flashy enough for most who can afford them. They fit into a specific niche where nobody wants them for completely opposing reasons.

2) The easiest weapon to sell is a small caliber hunting rifle, easy to maintain, inexpensive, and useful. If you mean at 'Mech scale I would say the medium laser. They are almost never equipped one at a time, they are inexpensive, and anyone with a spare ton or two wants them. The hardest to sell is a shield. It seems that most do it yourself MechTechs believe that they can cobble one together with stray sheets of armor plating and that they will serve as well as the specifically engineered and manufactured ones.

3) The oddest piece of equipment I have ever found was, and I took a particular interest in it considering my own situation, a set of jacks in the cockpit of a Banshee which allowed the right arm to be used with the same neurostimulis apparatus as the MechWarrior's prosthetic arm. He had lost it below the elbow in a MechBay accident. He was quite adept with that Banshee's arm and even offered to pour me tea with it, though I had to decline.

4) If I could create a new piece of 'Mech equipment it would be an improved version of the Word of Blake's TSEMP. A weapon capable of disabling an enemy machine without substantial harm to the crew or the machine itself would provide a multitude of strategic advantages.

[clarissaexplainsbatchall]

What was the most difficult deal, or chain of deals, you have had to close? I am familiar with many merchants who needed to get a piece of equipment for a client, but to do so needed to acquire and sell an other item, to acquire and sell another item, etc, etc, to eventually get access to the item the client wanted in the first place.

- COMGEN Melissa Hazen

@is-the-battlemech-cool-or-not

I was once tasked with aquiring a CLNT-1-2R for a rare Mech collector on Hesperus. As only twenty of these machines were ever made, and none recorded survived to the current day, it proved a substantial challenge. I bartered a rare vintage of Canopian Brandy to Clan Sea Fox's Lorekeeper to see if any had made the trip with General Kerensky's Exodus, which they had, though all known surviving examples of that prototype had ended up with Clan Snow Raven, but all had eventually been upgraded to the Clint IIC, which had subsequently been sold to Clan Blood Spirit.

I had thought that would be the end of my search if not for a chance encounter with a member of Wolf's Dragoons in a bar on Solaris VII. I was there providing spare parts to a gladiator stable. The Dragoon told me that he claimed genetic heritage from Clan Blood Spirit, his great grandfather having been one of the original freeborn volunteers for the unit. I immediately consulted the Loremaster again, costing yet another cask pf brandy, and discovered that there were three members of Clan Blood Spirit who had joined the dragoons.

My good luck continued as I found that one MechWarrior Calhoun, known in the Inner Sphere as Calhoun Pelt, had brought along with him his personal Battlemech, a Clint IIC, which he downgraded back to Inner Sphere level technology to fit with the mission. More searching through historical records and bribes later and a military historian on Luthien found evidence that Calhoun and his 'Mech were lost on Misery in 3028, felled in a duel against Chu-i Watanabe Ichiro, then fallen beneath the ice when the Dragoons collapsed it with charges.

There followed an expedition at no small expense to me along with the purchase of a salvage submersible and a pair of cargo VTOLs. After a month of searching we recovered Calhoun's 'Mech, along with several others, and found something astonishing. The Clint's serial numbers matched that of one of the priginal prototypes, the sixth off the line at the Adoran Industries plant on Bell.

After another month of in transit restoration, made even more expensive by the Clint's notoriously hard to source parts, it was delivered to the client in pristine condition. In exchange I secured a hefty payment more than covering the expenses of the venture, substantial though they were, and a trade deal for the Clan in the client's lucrative toy 'Mech manufacturing business, allowing the Tiburon Khanate to become the sole distributor of Matchbox 'Mechs to the Federated Suns.