the-emmapult

[the-emmapult]

Among the cheering crowd stands a group of battle armor jockeys gathered in a loose circle around a short woman in an oil-stained flightsuit. Mosquito squad are a tight-knit group of relatively new recruits and their Warrior pilot, who most of the crew euphemistically refer to as "spirited." Gemma is almost certain that Laura Boston isn't her real name, but those kinds of questions are for people that aren't unscrupulous mercenaries.

Party Time, Excellent

The mess hall of the Volcano was full of people. Almost all of The Bloody Gash had transferred over to the larger dropship and were crowding the space. Techs, MechWarriors, freed bondsmen, dropship crew, medical staff and Battle Armor jocks all cheering and drinking whatever they had stolen from the stores of the Hell's Horses. Mounted on the central table was a holoprojector showing a life sized image of a slightly overweight man in coveralls chugging a beer. A small shrine had built up around it of beer bottles, pressed flowers, and canned fruit. Jones would be remembered.

Gemma had set up a stage by dragging another table to the wall and was standing atop it decked out in fishnets, torn black fabric, and entirely too much glitter. "So there I was, pinned between the bulkhead and the porcupine, not a prayer to me lips when I hear the little one shout, 'Captain, jump!' So's I push! And I squirm! And I wiggle!" Mimicking all these motions gets a round of applause. "And I leaps away! WOOOSH!"

"Then WHAMBAM! SMASH! Down comes a bloody crane claw like the hand of god hisself, and then FLING! And the porcupine goes flyin' right out into space. Our little thing saved me sure as I'm breathin right here right now. If it weren't for her you'd be starin at me tits in holo instead of the flesh and blood!"

She points out at the little protomech pilot, grinning. "Three cheers for Analise! Three cheers for our girl!" And the crowd roars.

@lifebythemechahorns

[the-emmapult]

It was ten years after Nieuwegein and Sigrid Guntran was fine.

Her colleagues hadn’t noticed. Maybe they thought she just had a case of the Fridays. Maybe the feeling that it was taking seconds to find her words was all in her head. It didn’t matter.

And now she was ‘home’. Her sparse apartment furnished with leftovers from the shop and not much else. She needed to get out of her jumpsuit.

The smell of the shop lingered. Heated metal and oil and grease. The rugged fabric chafed against the uneven surface of her shoulder. In her mind the smells mingled with ozone and gunpowder and panic.

She felt the white-hot pain in her shoulder. In her arm. Through her torso. Ten years to the day, and it still lingered. She wondered if she’d ever be free. Be able to feel again without the fear. It didn’t matter.

She needed to get out of her jumpsuit.

She willed her hand to move. Willed her body to complete the motions. She wasn’t sure how long she could keep going like this. She was fine.

She needed to get out.

It didn’t matter.

She was fine.

--

Art by @casketjones

[the-emmapult]

CPLT-BW-E "EM4" (aka "Creole")

This ‘Mech started off as an unremarkable CPLT-K2, but by the time of its first deployment, was a K2 in name only. Creole was developed in tandem with its pilot as part of the Blackwell Heavy Industries’ experimental Enhanced MechWarrior program, and was the sole such BattleMech developed and deployed, as the revelation of its pilot's existence set in motion events that would resonate beyond Helios, and ultimately help shape the early days of the new Star League... and also ensure the downfall of Blackwell itself.

Creole featured a mixed weapon loadout with answers for threats at any range, and an extensive EWAR suite to back up the well-rounded armament. What set it apart, however, was its unique cockpit configuration. Engineered specifically for use by its pilot EM4, she was as much part of the ‘Mech as the ‘Mech was part of her. A suite of proprietary Blackwell vDNI technology known as the Vehicular Advanced Neural Interface Layered Link Apparatus - or VANILLA - connected her to her pilot at such a deep level that it was hard to determine if the ‘Mech was an extension of the pilot, or the pilot an extension of the ‘Mech. In addition, Creole had cleanroom-grade cockpit filters and an airlock to accommodate its pilot's sensitivity to non-sterile environments.

Though the pair performed extremely well in all simulated environments, Operation TOUCHDOWN was the first time Creole would see an actual combat drop. After being given a clean bill of health by the SLDF MechTechs, the 'Mech would show what Blackwell’s finest - if also most unethical - minds were capable of.

(Creole was designed by yours truly, but belongs to @sapphic-design-is-my-passion / @the-emmapult . Art was done by the ever talented @cromwell300 !)

TRO below the cut:

Catapult CPLT-BW-E 'EM4' (aka 'Creole')

Mass: 65 tons

Chassis: Composite Biped

Power Plant: 260 XL

Cruising Speed: 43.2 kph

Maximum Speed: 64.8 kph

Jump Jets: Standard

Jump Capacity: 60 meters

Armor: Ferro-Fibrous

Armament:

2 Micro Pulse Laser

1 Improved Heavy Large Laser

2 Heavy Machine Gun

1 Heavy Machine Gun Array

1 Snub-Nose PPC

2 Improved ATM 3

Manufacturer: Unknown

Primary Factory: Unknown

Communication System: Unknown

Targeting & Tracking System: Unknown

Introduction Year: 3153

Tech Rating/Availability: F/X-X-X-X

Cost: 17,721,688 C-bills

Type: Catapult

Technology Base: Mixed (Experimental)

Tonnage: 65

Battle Value: 1,919

Equipment Mass

Internal Structure Composite 3.5

Engine 260 XL 7

Walking MP: 4

Running MP: 6

Jumping MP: 2

Double Heat Sink 15 [30] 5

Compact Gyro 4.5

Small Cockpit 2

Armor Factor (Ferro) 211 11

Internal Armor

Structure Value

Head 3 9

Center Torso 21 32

Center Torso (rear) 10

R/L Torso 15 23

R/L Torso (rear) 7

R/L Arm 10 20

R/L Leg 15 30

Right Arm Actuators: Shoulder, Upper Arm

Left Arm Actuators: Shoulder, Upper Arm

Weapons

and Ammo Location Critical Heat Tonnage

2 Heavy Machine Gun CT 2 0 1.0

Heavy Machine Gun Array CT 1 0 0.25

Jump Jet RT 1 - 1.0

CASE RT 0 - 0.0

Extended-Range iATM/3 Ammo (20) RT 1 - 1.0

Standard iATM/3 Ammo (40) RT 2 - 2.0

High-Explosive iATM/3 Ammo (20) RT 1 - 1.0

Micro Pulse Laser RT 1 1 0.5

Improved ATM 3 LA 2 2 1.5

Snub-Nose PPC LA 2 10 6.0

2 Double Heat Sink LA 4 - 2.0

Targeting Computer LT 3 - 3.0

Jump Jet LT 1 - 1.0

Heavy Machine Gun Ammo (300) LT 3 - 3.0

CASE LT 0 - 0.0

Double Heat Sink LT 2 - 1.0

Micro Pulse Laser LT 1 1 0.5

Armored Cowl (Armored) HD 1 - 1.0

Nova Combined Electronic Warfare System HD 1 - 1.5

Direct Neural Interface Cockpit Modification None 0 - 0.0

Improved ATM 3 RA 2 2 1.5

CASE RA 0 - 0.0

2 Double Heat Sink RA 4 - 2.0

Improved Heavy Large Laser RA 3 18 4.0

Features the following design quirks: Battle Computer, Combat Computer, Cowl, Improved Communications, Improved Life Support, Improved Sensors, Multi-Trac, Variable Range Targeting, Cramped Cockpit, Difficult Ejection, Hard to Pilot, No/Minimal Arms, Non-Standard Parts, Prototype

[the-emmapult]

[BHI internal network node 381-Alpha-EM-1]

[display asset record]

[displaying...]

ASSET DESIGNATION: Enhanced MechWarrior 4

DATE OF PRODUCTION: circa 3130

PRIMARY GENETIC CONTRIBUTIONS: Proprietary

LISTED TRAINING (SOURCE):

- MechWarrior (Solo operative; independent from command chain)

- VANILLA systems (implants active)

ASSET DEPLOYMENTS:

- Operation TOUCHDOWN

ASSET QUALITY ASSURANCE COORDINATOR:

- Kimberly Ash (see separate file)

CONFIRMED ASSET RETURNS ON INVESTMENT:

MECH KILLS - 53 (simulated)

CV KILLS - 134 (simulated)

BATTLE ARMOR KILLS - 303 (simulated)

ASSET PERFORMANCE REVIEW:

- Untested. Recent developments in EM systems have rendered asset obsolete.

ASSET CURRENT STATUS:

- Pending Decommission

[the-emmapult]

Em freezes as Katrina speaks, completely unmoving even after the Star Colonel finishes. Once again she's glad for her visor, as she'd lost control of her facial expression shortly after her superior's tone became clear. The only one who seems to notice her change in mood is Kim.

Kim, who fixes Star Colonel Moon with a glare. The same look worn by a mother bear who has decided to warn someone that they're in between her and her cub. The handler silently places a steadying hand on Em's shoulder, bidding her forgive herself for the faux pas.

Make her regret her words. Make an example to others who'd harm Em.

No, not now.

"The briefing room isn't the time for a lecture, star colonel. I can assure you that we're all on the same page. General Hazen, did you receive my comminuque about our background? It might be time to discuss it."

The light of Helios' distant star filters weakly through to the command center as two figures approach amidst a mid-afternoon flurry. One leads, clad in a weathered greatcoat the color of slate and bundled up beneath a dark green scarf. The other figure wears a strange contraption, almost similar to a military hardsuit apart from the wheezing noises emitting from vents in its neck. The first figure holds open the door for the second, ushering them into the bustling headquarters building. The pair makes their way to the large holotank in the center of the building, which serves as a table for briefings.

"Kim Ash and Em Blackwell reporting, General Hazen."

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

[the-emmapult]

i can uhhhh dispose of that for you

Some of the AsTechs have discovered that the brand of sealant I like using has…mildly psychoactive properties.

Really, you guys? You did the inventory sheets, you know how much of that we have. Not enough. Next person I catch doing whippets is scrubbing carbon scoring for the rest of the op.

Blake’s sake…

[the-emmapult]

Em holds up a finger as the acronyms appear on the briefing holo, but her questions are answered immediately by Kim.

"High-explosive anti-tank"

"Dual-purpose improved conventional munitions."

The girl nervously taps the fingers of each hand together.

"Oh. Um."

Her gaze swivels between Katrina and Spirit.

"Aren't Smoke Jaguar the ones who uh, did Turtle Bay?"

Kim tenses, sighs, and pinches the bridge of her nose.

"Em, that was a century ago, you-"

A pause.

"Maybe I've been too lax when it comes to your education. I'm sorry, Colonel Moon, we've been cooped up in that DropShip for too long. Haven't had a chance for a proper lesson plan."

The light of Helios' distant star filters weakly through to the command center as two figures approach amidst a mid-afternoon flurry. One leads, clad in a weathered greatcoat the color of slate and bundled up beneath a dark green scarf. The other figure wears a strange contraption, almost similar to a military hardsuit apart from the wheezing noises emitting from vents in its neck. The first figure holds open the door for the second, ushering them into the bustling headquarters building. The pair makes their way to the large holotank in the center of the building, which serves as a table for briefings.

"Kim Ash and Em Blackwell reporting, General Hazen."

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

[the-emmapult]

Heck, you K'rensky types ain't all the same

"We are clanners, of course we will punch you for using contractions!"

[the-emmapult]

paintober day 4

tiny farcille <3

[the-emmapult]

Em speaks up, voice slightly muffled by her suit.

"Are you an alien?"

A sharp, pleading look from Kim, and she changes the subject.

"I've never been in combat before, but I'll do my best! It's nice to meet you all."

"Indeed," Kim says, "For those unaware, I'm Kimberly Ash and this is Em Blackwell. We'll be joining your force in this theater. Em may be inexperienced, but she is highly skilled."

Kim's expression says 'Don't get her hurt or I will kill you.'

The light of Helios' distant star filters weakly through to the command center as two figures approach amidst a mid-afternoon flurry. One leads, clad in a weathered greatcoat the color of slate and bundled up beneath a dark green scarf. The other figure wears a strange contraption, almost similar to a military hardsuit apart from the wheezing noises emitting from vents in its neck. The first figure holds open the door for the second, ushering them into the bustling headquarters building. The pair makes their way to the large holotank in the center of the building, which serves as a table for briefings.

"Kim Ash and Em Blackwell reporting, General Hazen."

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

[the-emmapult]

The light of Helios' distant star filters weakly through to the command center as two figures approach amidst a mid-afternoon flurry. One leads, clad in a weathered greatcoat the color of slate and bundled up beneath a dark green scarf. The other figure wears a strange contraption, almost similar to a military hardsuit apart from the wheezing noises emitting from vents in its neck. The first figure holds open the door for the second, ushering them into the bustling headquarters building. The pair makes their way to the large holotank in the center of the building, which serves as a table for briefings.

"Kim Ash and Em Blackwell reporting, General Hazen."

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

[the-emmapult]

That's Creole!!

Commission Sketch: Catapult

#battletech

[the-emmapult]

THATS MY RIDE BABYYYY

@neon-knights-mercenary-company I'm back in business!!!!!

THUNDERBACK

Commissioned piece by the awesome @moiderahart

[the-emmapult]

@on-a-mechtechnicality @karriethemechtech

Songs of the 'mech hangar.

(Not sung so often because people need to focus, but when there is boring work that needs doing it is nice to have something to keep the pace to. Also heard when the work is done and the drinks are going around.)

I Have Repaired This 'Mech but now it must Go Off to Battle Once More (it will probably need repairs again when it gets back)

There Was This One Terrible, Awful Custom-Built 'Mech

Let Me Tell You about the Dumb Pilot who was Too Cool to Listen To System Warnings (they blew up)

Sure the Dumb Pilots get a Lot Of Credit but We the Technicians Deserve Some As Well

When I Fix a 'Mech I Think of my Darling

There Was This One Amazing, Gorgeous 'Mech (variants: And I got to Work On It, So There; or, And I Did Not Get To Work On It).

The time I had to hose a squashed infantryman off a 'mech's foot

A Dumb Pilot told me to Make all these Stupid Modifications to a Perfectly Good 'Mech

I Know How to Fix a 'Mech Better Than You Do

When I Hold my Darling I Think of 'Mechs

There Is Grease Just All Over My Everything (variant: And Nothing Would Make Me Prouder)

A 'Mech Is, when you think about it, A Kind of Fair Lady

A Dumb Pilot Dragged this Perfectly Good 'Mech through Every Swamp/Desert/Jungle/Volcano on the Planet

I Hate Working on 'Mechs So So Much (but I get money for it)

Newfangled Advanced 'Mechs Are Dumb And I Hate Them

(Death/a Saint/the Devil/a Buddha/an Angel/etc.) Came Into the Hangar and Needed Their 'Mech Fixed

A 'Mech Is, when you think about it, A Kind of Coffin (and Brother I am the Town Undertaker)

A List of All the Bits in a 'Mech (But with a Catchy Tune)

A Dumb Pilot got this Perfectly Good 'Mech all Shot Up and Overheated and The Cockpit Glass is Broken Too

Never Let those Dumb Pilots Anywhere Near a 'Mech

[the-emmapult]

Grunting, Em fired her jump jets. No time to respond, not with the Shrike so close. A laser penetrated her left leg armor, spot-welding the knee joint and further inhibiting her mobility on the ground. She'd have to get behind it, fire her short-range missiles into the larger machine's rear armor. As the arc of her jump reached its apex, Em considered opening fire with her particle cannon, but decided against it. Her cockpit was already getting hot, and she couldn't afford a forced shutdown if she needed to jump away a second time.

Em willed her missiles to fire as Creole landed heavy on the pavement. Six of them streaked out across the road and slammed into her opponent. She didn't wait for the smoke to clear before jumping a second time, trying to clear the street before Spirit could turn her 'mech around. The Shrike had thirty tons on her, this would barely slow it down.

FAILURE

Shards of glass crunched under *Creole's* feet as Em spurred the BattleMech through the sundered streets. Her sensors picked up nothing, but that didn't slow her hurried, ragged breathing. Her only chance was to get into close quarters, lay an ambush for her opponent. *Creole* emitted smoke as it limped into a narrower thoroughfare, not quite an alley but small enough to conceal her. Too late. Alarm signals flashed on her heads-up display a moment before a missile slammed into her chassis. Em ignored the damage displays as she urged her steed around to face her opponent. She'd have to fight here.

[the-emmapult]

FAILURE

Shards of glass crunched under Creole's feet as Em spurred the BattleMech through the sundered streets. Her sensors picked up nothing, but that didn't slow her hurried, ragged breathing. Her only chance was to get into close quarters, lay an ambush for her opponent. *Creole* emitted smoke as it limped into a narrower thoroughfare, not quite an alley but small enough to conceal her. Too late. Alarm signals flashed on her heads-up display a moment before a missile slammed into her chassis. Em ignored the damage displays as she urged her steed around to face her opponent. She'd have to fight here.

[the-emmapult]

A paper girl, a paper life, a paper heart, a paper soul,

A pale wound upon her birth in starry night as black as coal

A sealed suit, a sealed ship, a sealed steed, a sealed skin

A severed dream upon the precipice of virtue or of sin

A shackled will, a shackled heart, a shackled goal, the shackles gone

A path behind the gilded cage, and one ahead to shining dawn

A crimson love, an ebon guide, a hidden ghost of royal blue

A sunset steed bestride the field, a silver chance to start anew.