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Interludes[]
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Last Stand at Hue[]
09/08/3051 | Outside Hue City, Kowloon, Lyran Commonwealth
“There are too many.”
Kapiten-Liaison Andrew Steiner whispered to himself within his Banshee 7S as he could see the clouds of dust that followed in the wake of Clan Mongoose’s 45th Striker Irregulars. What remained of Green Machine formed up into a defensible perimeter after their flight from HQ with woods on one side and a river on the other. Their ammunition supply was critical and no mech had escaped the powerful weapons of these strange invaders. He had thought they were just pirates, but they had decimated the Regiment, overtaken their defenses, and showed no sign of stopping. If anything, they sped up until they gave the survivors a ‘sporting’ hourlong head start before setting off like track sprinters when time elapsed.
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BNC-7S Banshee Assault BattleTech
What had been identified as a ‘Shadow Cat’ with the MechWarrior’s ‘Batchall’ crested a hill followed by others, tan and icy blue ‘Pack Hunters’ and ‘Arctic Cheetahs’ as they were identified. Each one of the designs were spindly and narrow providing little surface area to target and looked more like Aerospace Fighters than Battlemechs, they moved just the same as well, like a flock of fast birds. ‘Elementals’ detached from their flanks landing gracefully onto the grass. Hover skirts from ‘LTV-14’ tanks bloomed out over the river that he had hoped would shield his flank.
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Shadow Cat Medium OmniMech
“Time is up, Kapiten Steiner.”
“I see you have brought new friends, Star Captain Cage.”
Greta Cage’s voice came over the speaker, their daunting foe had nevertheless given them an hour head start before she would pursue and had handily done so with her blazingly fast machines. “I brought these Warriors at the insistence of my Star Colonel. It should take nothing more than my Binary to finish this. He disagreed and insisted I keep the cutdown.”
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Arctic Cheetah Light OmniMech
Andrew looked around at the damaged machines that formed his last combat units. “By Trial you mean the destruction of my Battalion?”
“If necessary.
You could always surrender and become bondsmen. That would be less wasteful.
Running is after all not an option.”
“I refuse. It is my duty to protect the Lyran Commonwealth from all invaders. I will not run or surrender while I still can fight.”
“Perhaps your men disagree.”
There as a long pause while the Mongoose Clan Warriors waited at the hill, Greta Cage was now broadcast to the whole command. “Green Machine, you have one last choice, power your machine down to surrender and become a bondsman of Clan Mongoose or prepare to fight to the death.
You have five minutes to decide.”
The Horsemen[]
09/12/3051 | Barcelona, Lyran Commonwealth
Star Colonel Solomon ‘Shaker’ Seidman crawled into his Rhino battlesuit with his fellow Elementals as the 333rd Mechanized Strike Cluster approached Barcelona. Though he couldn’t feel it the fuselage below him was warming with the heat of reentry. Beside him was a Star of Conjurers each one primed for a combat drop onto the Hell’s Horses first soon to be conquered territory.
The Broadsword’s Captain linked into the drop bay’s PA. “Triple Three, prepare for drop. Our Fighter Binary has suppressed Seventeenth Skye’s Aerospace. You will be first to clear the way Star Colonel.”
Each of the Elementals clanged their claws and laser onto their breastplates to fill the drop bay with noise as each gave their own war shout within their helmets just as they would haka before a Trial. Solomon felt the energy now and wind rushed into the drop bay as hatches opened beneath them to reveal a great expanse of wasteland from which shattered spires burst forth from the ground like ribs, as if the world itself had been flayed. ‘Mariah’s Pinnacle,’ built by The Usurper's empire was now the Spheroid's last redoubt hoping to halt Beta Galaxy Hell’s Horses impending stampede.
He reached up to release himself and his suit was the first out of the Broadsword as promised, his drogue chute deployed pulling taut but holding his 1.5-ton mass upright so the jump jets could do the rest. Soon he was joined by the rest of his Command Trinary, his fellow Elementals in battlesuits of varying configuration, Conjurer and Shadow Cat Battlemechs all fell amidst the Binaries of Fighters diving down to strafe enemy positions before they could fire upon the dropships on final approach that would provide the main combat strength of saKhan Tanya DeLaurel's Galaxy.
His jump jets flared as his computer determined the optimal deceleration curve that would be survivable to the heavy, tough, and inhumanely strong soldier within. One bred over centuries to be the perfect soldier. He felt the rush of battle fill him as he crashed onto the ground, right in the middle of a Skye Ranger’s fighting position. The men looked up from their recoilless rifle at the sudden appearance of the monstrous gray battlesuit with a fiery horse's head upon its chest.
As the suit stood to its full height Solomon could feel terror building in the hearts of his opponents. One of the men squeaked out something before his suit’s claw, each of its three tines capable of shredding armor plating by itself, lifted him to the visor plate. He desperately tried to escape the Elemental’s grasp as his companions scattered into the ruins. “What are you?”
“A Hell's Horseman”
Change of Management[]
09/04/3051 | Kolovraty, Lyran Commonwealth
A Hanseatic League Beacon dropship drifted on the chill night breeze landing on the runway of the Paxton City Starport with great curls of smoke as its brakes engaged. The lights of the Baxter Metals Foundry that powered the town physically and economically glimmered nearby across the benighted scrubs of this rocky desert steppe. On the ground a small team of Starport staff waved it toward the industrial terminal backed by dozens of large warehouses.
Within the terminal the Beacon shut down, dropped its side ramp, and a small group of men wearing goldenrod uniforms disembarked. Port crews arrived with heavy trucks laden with hydroformed car bodies, I-beams, and rebar rods. Their portly crew chief walked up to the slender, small man with the helmet marked ‘Captain’ who held his hand within his jacket on which was stenciled ‘Leroux, A’ and a pin with a strange foxlike creature. The crew chief paid it little attention. Who knew what the League was into besides guild politics, smuggling, and trafficking.
“You’re late. We expected you weeks ago.”
“There were complications and we needed to swing by Botany Bay first.”
“For what?”
The Captain looked around taking in the functional emptiness of the industrial terminal. “Supplies and a fresh Cargo.”
“We’ve got enough obsidian for our needs, but I know you guys do a circuit. Heading to Sigurd soon?”
Captain Leroux looked around to his people as some more descended the steps. “We were thinking more internal.”
“Make sure all your paperwork is clear, here on the border things are different than in the Core.”
“Of course. We appreciate the warning.”
“Well, you are here now. COMSTAR has been acting kinda weird lately, but you paid Baxter in advance for this cargo so it’s all good. Can you drop the ramp?”
“Certainly.”
As the Beacon’s ramp lowered it revealed columns of soldiers, some equipped with light vehicles and others on foot but all armed. They rushed forward to take control of the drivers so quickly that they had no time to do anything but put their hands up. Captain Leroux held his formerly concealed pistol to the Crew Chief’s head and his nearest companions did the same to those nearby. They immediately dropped their clipboards and computers to raise their hands in surrender.
Their lighter vehicles rode off to the Baron’s Manor and Foundry with great speed, each one of the bikes and skimmers carrying two heavily equipped soldiers. Heavier equipment was being dragged down the ramp by the ship’s crew. Mechs, tanks, and airplanes of the type that they had never seen before but seemed strangely familiar.
“Who are you?
What are you doing?”
“We are Clan Nova Fox, and we are instituting a change in management.”