Union: Prologue

  
Union: Prologue
by Methuselah


Malibu IV
Jade Falcon Invasion Corridor
April 1, 3050

"Command, this is Charlie Company. We have inbound BattleMechs, approximately twenty. They'll be on us in thirty seconds, what do you want us to do?"

"Charlie. Pull back and link up with Baker. We'll hit them from the rear."

"Confirmed Hauptmann, any updates on our reinforcements?"

Logan started his Crockett into a lumbering jog forwards, leading the remnants of Alpha company onwards, deeper still into the weaving network of canyons that his battalion of BattleMechs now fought in.

Vaguely humanoid in shape and carrying a dedicated human pilot, the BattleMech was King on the battlefields of the 31st century. Varying in size from agile, 20 tonne scout 'Mechs through 100 tonne engines of destruction and built around a fusion engine, the construction of the first BattleMech over 300 years past signaled a new era in warfare.

"No update Charlie. Everyone with jump jets, follow me. The rest follow your navigation computers and rendezvous at waypoint Hotel. No Clanners are to get past us. We’re all that’s keeping them from the regiment’s rally point at Scott." With his instructions set in motion, Logan Hickock shoved his feet down hard upon the foot pedals below his seat, activating the jump jets distributed in his 'Mech's legs and torso.

"Command, this is Baker. We're… gag..g t… Clan… now." The communication from Baker Company was broken and distorted, a sure sign that both sides had joined in battle with high-energy weapons. As warfare had advanced and BattleMechs had evolved, so had the weapons they carried. Lasers, weapons utilizing highly focused beams of light, were one of the most common. Coming in three sizes; small, medium and large, each one more potent than the last. Also employed in combat were large caliber "autocannons", a melding of the single-firing guns mounted on tanks before the birth of BattleMechs and the machine guns that revolutionized warfare in the first half of the 20th Century.

Logan's Crockett rose up off the dusty canyon floor upon plumes of plasma released by the jump jets that his 'Mech mounted. To each side of him other BattleMechs rose up, most jumping swifter than he due to their lower weight. In his ears, Logan could hear the frantic messages passing between the members of Charlie and Baker companies. Repeatedly today his battalion had seen action against the invading Jade Falcons, with their OmniMechs and superior technology. In the heat of an earlier battle the unit's commanding officer, Kommandant Sam Danger, had perished along with five other members of Alpha Company.

Malibu IV was a lost planet anyway. The deaths of brave men and women had been in vain. And yet, in the face of defeat each person seemed to shine more brightly and strive more valiantly. In vain their deaths may be, but not their sacrifices. Each hour bought with blood by the planetary militia and 17th Skye Rangers allowed the Inner Sphere another hour to prepare itself against the children of General Kerensky, The Clans.


The jolt of 85 tonnes hitting a sandstone plateau shook Logan's mind back onto the task at hand. With the death of the battalion's Kommandant, it was his task to guide the MechWarriors now under his command to stop the Jade Falcon advance on the planetary spaceport.

"Alpha, this is Charlie. We're getting really chewed up here sir. Request permission to withdraw."

"Negative Charlie. Alpha is one mike away. Hold them." No sooner had the feet of Hauptmann Logan Hickock's Crockett hit solid ground than it was pressed onwards into a run with the slow depression of throttle pedals. The secret behind the capability for such massive and often ponderous machines of war to stay upright during battlefield maneuvers lay in two things. First, the multi tonne gyroscope buried inside the stomach of a BattleMech. Second, the neurohelmet worn by MechWarriors that tied their own innate sense of balance to the gyroscope.

Again, Logan slammed his feet upon the foot pedals responsible for throttle and activation of jump jets. Again his Crockett began to lift up, but carefully controlled bursts meant that he did not fly into the air, rather he coasted gently down to the canyon floor.

"Command. This is Hauptmann Hickock. Request air support at our grid ref."

"Negative Hickock, your air support was reassigned by Colonel Yves for a salvage op. Do what you can, then fall back to the space port."

Logan's Crockett reached a fork in the canyon system. In one direction, what was left of Baker and Charlie companies engaged a pair of Clan Binaries in a life-or-death struggle while to the other direction, a pair of badly damaged but still battle ready Clan 'Mechs limped towards his position.

"Alpha, proceed to assist Baker and Charlie. I'll neutralize this pair."


The dusty confines of the canyon cramped the two Clan OmniMechs together, forcing them to adopt a staggered formation. Logan was thankful for this small mercy. Under normal circumstances, charging a pair of Clan OmniMechs, with their advanced weapons, their heavy armour and their skilled pilots would have been suicidal. Even more so when one considered the venerable age of Logan's CRK-5003-0 Crockett. Thankfully his 'Mech outweighed those of his enemies, tagged by his 'Mech's WarBook as a Loki Prime and a Dragonfly D. It was also in near-pristine condition when compared to their savaged forms.

The other strength of the OmniMech design was the ability to quickly change weapon configurations to suit the battlefield - a 'Mech that one day was involved in urban operations could just as easily provide fire support the next, whereas normal BattleMechs were built for one purpose and one purpose alone. Logan's own BattleMech was built as a training 'Mech to familiarize new pilots with all aspects of BattleMech operation. Carrying weapons from all three main groups, energy; ballistic; and missile, the Crockett also carried thick armour plating to protect the vulnerable internal components as well as jump jets for added versatility.

Logan walked the targeting reticule of his 'Mech over the leading Clan OmniMech, the Loki Prime, and opened fire with both of the Magna Mark III Large Lasers carried by his BattleMech, stabbing sapphire beams of light at his foe. One beam missed, cutting into the canyon wall and leaving a thick carbon scar. The second beam gave much more promising results, hitting the Loki on the left of its chest, piercing the already-weakened armour to wreak havoc on the components inside.

Before his surprised opponents had time to react Logan had already begun his next maneuver, stamping his feet down hard upon the foot pedals and initiating another jump, leapfrogging towards his opponents and avoiding the hastily aimed return fire of his opponents.

"Alpha company is engaging, cavalry's here boys." Had Logan been paying more attention, he would have heard the sounds of battle filter through his comm. system; he however, was more concerned with keeping his 'Mech upright as it hit the ground running.


Aside from the tasks of maneuvering a BattleMech and targeting a battery of weapons upon an opponent and then hitting with them, a MechWarrior also had to be conscious of heat. The fusion reactor at the heart of a BattleMech, the power behind the machine, generated a ferocious amount of heat when in heavy use. Under normal circumstances a 'Mech walking or running generated little heat, an amount easily dissipated by the heat sinks that the 'Mech carried. However, the firing of weapons, the use of jump jets, or any extraneous activity required more power from the fusion reactor, making it work harder and thus generate more heat- often past the capability of the available heat sinks to shed the excess. The buildup of heat not only interfered with onboard computer systems, but gave rise to problems with weapon systems, could force the myomer muscles responsible for moving the 'Mech to slacken, and also turned the cockpit of a 'Mech into a virtual oven. At higher heat levels ammunition could explode, the magnetic bottle of the fusion engine could fail, and the 'Mech could destroy itself.

The heat inside Logan's BattleMech was rising.

"Alpha, push hard on their left flank and try to meet up with Baker." The message came through to Logan's BattleMech in distorted fashion, the after-effect of near miss by on of the Loki Prime's Extended-Range Particle Projection Cannons - weapons which used accelerated ions to inflict telling damage at long range.

Logan made his 'Mech turn in closer to the canyon wall, coming at the Clan OmniMechs at an oblique angle that would prevent the Dragonfly A from getting a clear shot at him. To ensure that he was able to get a clear shot himself, he twisted the torso of his Crockett towards the Clanners and opened fire with another of his 'Mech's weapons, an AC/10.


Autocannons were available in four sizes, each rated on damage capability. AC/2, AC/5, AC/10, and the fearsome AC/20 were all available to the Inner Sphere forces, with the Clans employing more sophisticated models such as the Ultra series and LB-X autocannons. In addition to being lighter than their Inner Sphere counterparts, the Ultra Series and LB-X series weapons had other advantages. The Ultra series provided a MechWarrior with the chance to fire at twice the rate a standard autocannon could, providing extra firepower in dire situations, while the LB-X weapons could fire a virtual shotgun blast of shells, peppering multiple locations in one volley.

Logan braced his BattleMech for the recoil that came with the firing of an autocannon, balancing the need to stay standing with the desire for a clean hit as his autocannon let loose upon the Loki.. The ungainly-looking war machine suffering under multiple impacts. A testament to the engineering invested in Clan BattleMechs, the Loki stayed standing even as over half a tonne of armour was blown into debris in one violent second. That loss now deprived the left side of the OmniMech of all but the merest shred of armour and open for further damage.

This time, the MechWarrior piloting the Loki connected with his riposte, launching a flight of six short-ranged missiles at Logan and his Crockett. In addition, the Clanner made the connection with one ER PPC, it's lighting impact tearing through just over a tonne of armour and throwing the gyro of the Inner Sphere BattleMech out of synch. With some effort, Logan kept his 'Mech running forwards, barely breaking stride even as at six SRM's whittled away armour across the broad chest of his Crockett.

Conscious of the heat that had built up from his firing of both large lasers less than half a minute ago, Logan again fired off a burst from his AC/10. The stream of high-velocity shells shattering carefully placed armour plate across the centre of the Loki's chest. The MechWarrior piloting it was good, Logan concluded, though he had expected nothing less from a Clanner.

So far, the Loki had borne the brunt of his firepower, shielding the more lightly armoured Dragonfly behind it as well as protecting the damage that circumscribed its own right flank.

Feeling the air inside the cockpit cool as heat was purged by pumps inside the cockpit and heat-sinks placed strategically upon the BattleMech, Logan let loose with another large laser. Seemingly in sync with his enemy, they fired at the same time.


His Crockett swayed backwards as another full tonne of armour was flayed from it, this time the Clan Extended Range Particle Projection Cannon connecting with the left-hand side of Logan's mount.

Again in concert with the firing of such an energy-intensive weapon, the heat inside his cockpit swelled up. Even the heat couldn't blunt Logan's feeling of achievement as the Clan Loki pitched forwards shedding smoke from every rent in its armour. To be fair, Logan knew that if the Loki hadn't engaged him in such a damaged state, it probably would have made short work of him. However, with engine damage and armour that was thin at the most dense of places, the MechWarrior piloting the Loki would have been better advised to have returned to his base.

"Alpha Company. One down. One to go."

"Show them how we do it sir."

No sooner had the Loki fallen than did the pilot of the Clan Dragonfly A engage Logan.

This time though, the Dragonfly A held the advantage with it's multiple jump jets and nimble design. On a more open playing field, there would be no reasonable way for the MechWarrior aboard the Dragonfly to prevail. In the tight confines of the canyon, where at its widest two BattleMechs could barely stand side by side, the odds for Logan's defeat rose.


Logan's subconscious recalled the briefing on capabilities of Clan OmniMechs. The Dragonfly was intended to carry out scouting operations in any environment. Light and fast, few BattleMechs could match its speed and none could match its jump capability. If pressed, the pilot of a Dragonfly could jump 240 metres in a single leap. Coming in five different configurations, the Dragonfly was not only a respected scout 'Mech, but a fearsome hunter of scout 'Mechs.

If Logan was incautious, the MechWarrior aboard the Dragonfly would simply jump into his rear arc and deal a fatal blow through his lighter rear armour.

Logan set his counter-move in action as soon as he saw the flares of the Clanner’s igniting jump jets, twisting his own BattleMech so that it’s back pressed to the smooth sandstone canyon wall. Sensing his mistake, the Clan MechWarrior attempted to pirouette upon landing. The Dragonfly had turned half the required angle before it was speared by a large laser beam. The sudden strike and resultant damage unbalanced the light 'Mech's gyroscope, sending it clattering hard into the canyon wall.

As the Clanner attempted to straighten out his OmniMech, Logan let fly with a sextet of short ranged missiles. Two flew wide, gouging at the canyon wall and sending clouds of high-velocity debris spinning outwards. A second pair burrowed into the shoulder of the stricken Dragonfly. The final pair slipped neatly into the ragged hole over the gyroscope and found their way to the softest spot of the war machine. Their explosion ruined the multi-tonne device that kept so many tonnes of 'Mech moving gracefully, sending the Dragonfly down. A blanket of dust rose up to cover the dead OmniMech from sight.


“Sitrep people.” Ordered Logan as he ran his BattleMech towards the combat zone. “Twelve ‘Mechs still functional. Raine, Booker and Phelps are dead, I don’t know about the other ten. We’re hurting the Clanners good, but we keep on having to fall back.” Logan’s staff sergeant’s voice was obscured momentarily by the sound of warning klaxons and the muted firing of autocannons. “Hold on sir, business is picking up. Boomer, flank left, Devon come up on my seven o’clock…”

The transmission cut out abruptly as Logan’s subordinate switched frequencies. Of the 26 BattleMechs under his command, 14 now lay down in the sand, no longer kings of the battlefield, but ruined metal corpses. His Crockett swayed gently as it rounded a sharp turn in the canyons system. In front of him a plume of heavy black smoke wound its way through a shell-riddled hulk. The warbook, the piece of computer equipment that identified combat equipment, tagged it as a Zeus. One of the ‘Mechs under his command. A swell of rage built up inside him as he ran his 85-tonne BattleMech past the smaller machine, noting that a shell from a gauss rifle had crushed the cockpit.


“Sorry about that sir.” The gruff, comforting voice of Staff Sergeant Collins intruded on the thump of heartbeats and footfalls. “We reckon there’s two lances of Omni’s left. But to be honest, we’re not going to be able to hold them back too much longer. What happened to our support?”

“Kappa Company was reassigned along with our aerospace support by order of Colonel Yves. Transmit confirmed locations of OmniMechs to my ‘Mech, Sarge.”

“Sir, you know that’ll give my position away, don’t you?”

“You’ll engage them sooner or later. Now transmit their co-ordinates.”

Upon Logan’s tactical map, a series of red dots sprang up, slowly advancing upon the green dots representing friendly forces. A mere four hundred metres away, three Clan OmniMechs proceeded towards a nexus where they would no doubt be regrouping with their fellows.

He maneuvered his ‘Mech into the canyon that lead to the advancing trio of Clan BattleMechs, this one even more narrow than the one in which he had engaged the Loki and the Dragonfly. His Crockett barely managed to fit between the sand-coloured walls; it’s thick shoulders scraping away sediment from time to time. The screeching inside his cockpit, mercifully, was barely audible.

"Danger Men." Logan addressed the remnants of the battalion over their unit frequency. "Head for the node point now marked as waypoint Pi. No-one slips though."

"Aye sir."

"No problem."

"You got it."

"Okay boys. Let's see what you've got."


In the confines of the canyon, where the gaps between walls of solid rock were routinely less than three metres wide and twice the height of BattleMechs, achieving a clear sensor sweep was rare enough to be denounced as a one-off. As Logan's swiftly moving 'Mech began to close with the Clanners, a spike of unease went through him. It was well founded. As he twisted his mount through another torturously tight turn, he came almost nose-to-nose with a Black Hawk that had been left behind by its comrades to lay in wait for him.

This time, unlike last, his opponent was fresh and was ready for him. It seemed to back away for a moment, like a small dog preparing to leap at its foe. The lurching of Logan's BattleMech told him that it hadn't been backing away, merely compensating for the recoil generated by its gauss rifle. A single Ferro-tungsten slug had gone from the Black Hawk, through the sound barrier, and deep into the armour protecting the stomach of Logan's Crockett.

Refusing to let the Clan MechWarrior carry the initiative Logan opened fire with the two Holly Short Range Missile launchers mounted either side of his cockpit. Even at so close a range, not all of the twelve missiles found their mark. Those that did, with their large high-explosive warheads, took a heavy toll on the armour encasing the left shoulder and head of the OmniMech. Ferro fibrous armour scattered like gravel, leaving behind deep craters that bled white smoke.


"Come on, down you go…" Logan muttered under his breath, adding the light caress of both small lasers that his BattleMech mounted. Continuing to back away, the Clan MechWarrior tried to twist the torso of his OmniMech and spread the hits out over the right side of his mount. The two thin beams stabbed out at the Black Hawk. The first missed, leaving a half-metre long carbon scar on one of the canyon walls, while the second spalled away armour over one of the Clan 'Mech's hips.

With all the swiftness of a snake striking, the Black Hawk flicked it's left arm at Logan's Crockett. Logan was a step ahead though, opening up his jump jets to send his 'Mech jetting upwards and to one side, grinding some armour off of one bulky shoulder to avoid the supersonic gauss rifle shell that blurred past him.

Somewhere behind him it connected with the canyon wall, smashing through centuries of collected sediment, filling the canyon behind him with enough rubble to make a fighting retreat impossible lest his ‘Mech get shot in the back. Logan had made no plans to retreat though, instead letting rip with the wide-bore AC/10 that had earlier brutalized the Clan Loki.

For an instant, the massive AutoCannon’s scream filled the air accompanied by the harsh bark of detonating cordite. The stream of shells had little else to go in the confines of the canyon, except straight into the chest of the low-slung Black Hawk, reducing armour to fragmented ruin and exposing some of the delicate internal structure of the 50-tonne war machine.

“The Sarge is down! Devon, Lake, scorch that Man O War now! Boomer, come up on my left. Anyone left from Alpha company form up on our right, watch for a counter push.”

“This is Chalky, we’re taking some real stick here. Hauptmann Hickock, we could do with you soon. Things are getting real hairy here. The Sarge is dead, Hauptmann Phelps bought it ten minutes ago, and the Clanners are regrouping for another push.”

“Standby.”

The Black Hawk staggered back to it’s feet and lashed out against Logan with the pitifully few weapons it carried for close-in work, opening up with a flurry of laser pulses, followed up by four short-ranged missiles, stuffed with high explosive. Virtually all of the shots connected with Logan and his Crockett, wreathing the head and upper torso in a storm of fire, throwing the Hauptmann about inside his cockpit like a rag doll. Logan’s nose gushed blood for a moment, like that of a boxer after taking a knock-down blow and through his blurred vision, sighted up both of the Magna Mark III Large Lasers that comprised the main armament of his BattleMech.


The first large-laser beam punched deep into the Clanner’s right hip, damaging the actuator with a telltale shower of sparks and leaping electricity. The second hit much higher, taking the Black Hawk C in the cockpit, where the armour had already been sanded away by missile impacts. The armoured construction seemed to implode as it received the mega joule caress of a large laser, killing the flesh and blood MechWarrior in charge of the machine and rendering it just so much scrap.

Logan’s breath was harsh and labored for some moments afterwards as the heat that had spiked through his ‘Mech dissipated. With the back of one hand, he wiped the blood from his mouth and chin the sipped from the nipple of his water pipe. Setting his Crockett back into motion, steadying the ungainly, top-heavy machine as it began the first steps of acceleration he glanced at his Head-Torso-Arm-Leg or HTAL display and winced again. Few sections of his armour were untouched and as a whole, a third of the protection mounted by his ‘Mech had gone with some sections coming close to being breached.

The fight with the Black Hawk had slowed him up some, giving the remaining pair of Clan BattleMechs he was hunting enough time to slip out of the narrow canyon and into the general fray that was taking place between the remnants of Sam Danger’s Battalion, the Danger Men. In less than two minutes, Logan would also be part of that melee.

The Danger Men had been tasked with holding a section of canyons called “Goat’s Passage”, the only way through the Ravager Mountains for a hundred kilometers in either direction. Beyond Goat’s Passage was the city of Scott, where the 17th Skye Rangers were busy evacuating. The wounded had made their way off planet the day before, their passage bought in blood by the remainder of the Regiment’s tank battalion the day before. Now it was the turn of the Danger Men to die gloriously, securing enough time for the rest of the regiment to load up on the DropShips. Should the Clan advance be stopped, all but one of the DropShips would lift off while the remaining one would hold on until the remnants of the Danger Men boarded, then head for high speed to reach the safety of the outbound DropShip convoy, and eventually the JumpShip Fade To Black.

“Danger Men, sound off!” Logan’s voice came through harsh and raw, cutting through the sounds of battle like a saw.

“Devon.”

“Witchunter.”

“Shellshock.”

“Boomer.”

“Lake.”

“Chalky.”

“Any more?”

“We’re all that’s left, sir. The Clanners won’t get past us though sir, we stopped them at Pi. There’s four that we can count. A Thor, a… hold on sir.” The conversation was cut short by the muted wailing of alarm klaxons, cursing and weapons fire. “They’re breaking through sir! Witchunter just bought it! IFF counts four Omni’s. Thor, Dasher, Fenris, and a Mad Cat. Make it quick sir.” 


Logan’s feet slammed down upon the jump pedals of his BattleMech, sending the eighty-five tonne machine floating upwards on plumes of superheated plasma to make contact with a plateau twenty metres above where he had previously been.

In his experience of war, Logan had never seen a scene like the one that had been presented in front of him. Over three-dozen BattleMechs and OmniMechs lay scattered in their death poses across a clearing only two hundred metres at its widest point. Armour lay like gravel upon the sandy floor. Spiraling columns of flame and smoke rose from ruined hulks. Missile craters, laser burns and spent autocannon rounds lay wherever one looked.

Worse still, only a handful of ‘Mechs were missing their cockpits, signifying that the pilot had safely ejected. Most had died in their machines, roasted alive by the heat of their fusion engines, vaporized by energy weapons or torn apart by large caliber rounds.

Through the clearing’s one exit, the thick black smoke of battle hung. Beyond it, in a smaller sub clearing, five BattleMechs fought four OmniMechs. The lightning sparks of PPC fire mixed in amongst a myriad of lasers and muzzle flashes of autocannons. A Hunchback slowly retreated, step by step as it dueled with a Clan Fenris in an attempt to shield a wounded Centurion from a killing blow. Standing side by side, an Awesome and an Orion engaged fire with the Mad Cat and the Thor, while finally the Dasher OmniMech and a Wolfhound BattleMech attempted to stop their opposite number from sneaking behind the three larger ‘Mechs fighting it out.

Logan’s Crockett rushed forwards at an impressive speed for such a large machine, leaping heedlessly off the edge of the plateau judiciously using it’s jump jets again to slow it’s descent.

“Lake is down! Lake is down!” In the rapidly approaching distance, Logan watched the Wolfhound of Lake take a one-two punch of missiles and medium lasers, breaking open the already shattered armour over the lithe ‘Mech’s stomach and tearing into the vulnerable gyroscope underneath. As soon as the head assembly of the Wolfhound shot up into the air on a trail of fire, Logan snapped off a shot with one large laser, missing the Dasher by some metres, but getting it’s attention none-the-less.

Still his Crockett ran towards the firefight, bouncing him around up and down as he tried to maintain some sense of balance while striving to evade any incoming fire. The upside to the bouncing was that the sweat that broke with each weapon firing was quickly shaken away. The downside was the accurately targeting and hitting a target become a much more difficult proposition entirely.


"Let’s see what you’ve got.” For the most part, light ‘Mechs were piloted by two types of MechWarrior. Greenhorns and veterans. Heavier BattleMechs required a certain amount of skill in piloting and gunnery before they could be used to their fullest potential upon the battlefield, whereas lighter BattleMechs made less demands upon their pilot and thus were an excellent choice for training purposes. However, a light BattleMech could make it into places where something heavier might not have the speed to escape or even become noticed before carrying it’s mission out. Therefore, a veteran MechWarrior in a light BattleMech could have as much impact on a battle as he could in something more powerful.

Logan fired his second large laser, mindful of the residual heat from firing the other weapon of that type his BattleMech mounted. Once more though, he missed due more to the efforts of the MechWarrior aboard the Dasher than his own failure to target properly. Squatting down, the Dasher returned fire with a brace of short-ranged missiles that were thwarted handily by Logan’s random stepping, sending at least half of them flying past him and taking the remainder upon his left arm and leg. Two hundred metres away now, Logan held his targeting reticule steady over the light OmniMech and toggled his weapons over to fire both SRM-6 launchers mounted upon his Crockett’s shoulders. As soon as the reticule turned gold, he would unleash a storm of fire onto the lightly armoured OmniMech and take his measure of revenge for the loss of so many of his comrades.

The reticule turned gold. Twelve missiles, crammed with explosives shot forth like spawning salmon towards the Dasher, which prepared itself to turn aside at the last moment. Eight missiles connected with the Clan ‘Mech, stripping over a tonne of armour from all over, reducing one of the stunted arms to slag and exposing bundles of myomer and power linkages underneath. In a more clinical moment, when reviewing the ROM of the battle, Logan would consider his following action overkill, but in the heat of combat it seemed quite reasonable to wash the light OmniMech with fire from his AC/10, smashing into the wounded side, collapsing support structures and puncturing much of the shielding over the relatively fragile fusion engine.

Wisely, the Clansman ejected from his dying machine to fight again.

“Devon just punched out. Chalky’s limping away. And sir, you clipped that…” The communication was distorted momentarily by interference from a PPC firing “…I say again, that SRM burst clipped the Fenris that took Devon down. Take him out sir!”

“Concentrate on that Thor, I’ll wipe out the Fenris and move onto the Mad Cat.”

“Gotcha.”

“Wilco.”


Feathering his jump jets to get more speed, Logan propelled the eighty-five tonne BattleMech towards the medium weight Clan OmniMech at frightening speed. A flash lit his field of vision to the right for an instant, the red light indicating a near miss from one of the Fenris’ secondary weapons. With a mere seventy-five metre gap between the two disproportionably matched ‘Mechs remaining, the MechWarrior aboard the Fenris began a slow loping run to the right of Logan, hoping to cut down the number of weapons that could be fired at any time, while presenting a more inviting, less heavily armoured side.

The maneuver was commonly termed the “Circle of Death”, where a faster BattleMech would run rings around a slower opponent, hoping to eventually force it to present it’s back for a fatal blow. More than once, it had saved the skin of a MechWarrior at the expense of another’s.

Logan lashed out at the Clan OmniMech with both small lasers mounted by his BattleMech, narrowly missing both times as the Fenris began to pick up speed. As he turned his own ‘Mech in and attempted to continue facing his lighter opponent, he found the Fenris slowly slipping past him as it got up to it’s full speed, cornering at well over 90 kilometres an hour. In addition to backpedaling and turning, Logan slowly twisted the torso of his Crockett to keep lined up with the speeding Clanner.

The now-familiar missile lock tone rang in his ears, and Logan depressed the fire button long enough to let both flights spring out at the Omni, trying to lead them a little further ahead of his target than normally necessary.

The tactic worked, with six missiles stripping away armour all across the right hand side of the medium weight war machine, the second six detonating against the canyon walls to blow chunks of sandstone high into the air for hundreds of metres around. To Logan’s amazement, the Fenris continued it’s run, retorting with a pair of missiles that gobbled up the distance between parent and target so fast that they had impacted and exploded before their contrails had even begun to dissipate.

The sudden jar of missiles abrogating armour set off not one, but two warning lights inside the cockpit of the Crockett, with a pop-up schematic indicating that both of the Holly SRM-6 launchers had jammed temporarily, due to the sudden missile impact jarring the reloads from their autoloaders. Biting back a stream of curses, Logan fired off both small lasers once more, missing with the first as the MechWarrior aboard the Fenris executed a deft quickstep that dodge the laser beam. It unfortunately left him in prime position for the follow-up the neatly sliced into the ferro-fibrous armour over the OmniMech’s hip, raising an ugly cloud of black steam that lifted to reveal gleaming metal bone underneath.

Improbably, and again to Logan’s surprise, the Fenris appeared to speed up as it tried to tighten the Circle of Death for a killing blow, the torso of the Crockett having reached the limits of it’s turn, bringing it within moments of achieving a perfect firing solution.

“Not this time.”


Aside from the obvious differences in weight, speed and firepower between an eighty-five tonne BattleMech and a forty-five tonne OmniMech, other less tangible differences existed. For instance, the speed at which a leg could be raised, or an arm extended would be quicker when attempted by a smaller ‘Mech. Similarly, keeping an assault-weight BattleMech balanced during activities more acrobatic than running or turning required an experienced MechWarrior with a good sense of his or her machine’s capabilities.

When reviewing the battle ROM afterwards, Logan’s commander would experience a feeling of amazement similar to that of the Fenris pilot. Logan leant his Crockett forwards, pivoting to the left with one rear leg raised as well as one arm extended to keep balance as the ‘Mech formed something as close to a t-shape as was possible. In addition to keeping balance, amazing enough as it was, Logan also managed to shoot the Fenris in its wounded hip with one of his Crockett’s large lasers, neatly paring the leg from the body of the Fenris, sending it skidding towards one sandstone wall at almost ninety kilometers an hour.

“Boomer just punched out!”

Only a hundred metes away, the cockpit of Boomer’s Orion shot up in the smoky sky, only to be cut out of the air in a flash of lightning by a PPC blast from the Jade Falcon Thor.

“No!” Shellshock’s scream of rage gained neither emotion nor control as it filtered through Logan’s comm. system and mixed with his own.


The mottled green Thor jerked and staggered as Shellshock ignored the Mad Cat and turned his full attention upon the already-damaged machine, unleashing an awesome alpha-strike, triggering all three particle projection cannons in one go, blasting huge glowing holes in the crumpled armour of the OmniMech with three bolts of artificial lightning. Logan added the voice of his Crockett to the cacophony of violence, stabbing out with each of the large lasers his ‘Mech mounted, starting a run towards the stricken Thor.

Armour popped noisily as joule upon joule lanced into it, melting the ferro-fibrous compound in long rivulets that snaked downwards like water. Small lasers sought out weakened spots to hit again with quick strikes that added to the mounting damage, leaving the machine listing to one side dangerously as support structures were reduced to ruin. Finally, from a range of thirty metres, Logan opened fire with the Blankenburg Heavy AC/10 that protruded from the left torso of his BattleMech and spat shells at the dying Thor.

The OmniMech tottered forwards for one step before collapsing like a marionette with its strings cut, raising dust that covered it like a shroud.

Warning klaxons sounded harsh and loud in Logan’s ears as his reactor neared critical; unable to shed heat fast enough to continue powering the BattleMech without risking a catastrophic explosion. Breathing the burning air in short gulps, Logan slammed has hand down on the manual override button, desperate to continue the fight rather than become a sitting duck for fifteen seconds.

“Shell,” Logan gasped through his mouthpiece. “Are you okay?”

As hot as Logan’s Crockett was running, the firing of all three PPCs mounted by Shellshock’s Awesome would create a heat signature so strong as to make his own pale in comparison. As things stood, it was a minor miracle that the BattleMech had not exploded there and then.

“I’m good.” The faintness of his comrade’s reply told him otherwise, although it was a comfort to know he hadn’t passed out from the spike in temperature.


The Clan Mad Cat opened fire upon Shellshock’s battered Awesome with the paired medium lasers and heavy machine guns it carried, hoping for a lucky hit that would finally disable the machine. Fortune smiled on the Clan MechWarrior as a burst of shells slipped in through the cracked and pitted armour across the Awesome’s chest. Thick though the shielding around a BattleMech’s fusion engine was, it was never meant to absorb the type of punishment dealt by ‘Mech grade weapons. “Eject, Shellshock! Eject!”

One of the smaller monitors to Logan’s side intended to display infrared images almost whited out as the containment around his comrade’s engine began to fail.

“I can hold it! I can hold it!”

“Eject MechWarrior! That’s an order!”

Again, the Clan Mad Cat fired at Shellshock, reducing the armour across the Awesome’s chest to the thinness of paper at best, sinking weapon fire deep inside it.

“Ejecting! Ejecting!”

The now-dead Awesome fell backwards as Shellshock left the machine on a plume of actinic flame, arcing into the sky towards the city of Scott. The six-and-a-half million C-bill machine shuddered momentarily as automatic systems tried to quell the nuclear fire that raged inside it, flooding artificial muscles and their actuators with excess energy, making the 80 tonne assault-weight machine spasm uncontrollably.

Violently, it died. Somewhere inside the reaction overtook the machine’s attempts to vent the excess of heat, resulting in a violent shower of ‘Mech debris, heat and light.


“Spheroid. I am Star Colonel Tamara Malthus. The Clans abhor waste, and to kill you would be a waste. Accept your defeat and become a bondsman of Clan Jade Falcon. However sharp your skills are, they are no match for mine. Your life, and your antiquated machine will find a new purpose within our glorious Clan.” The Clan MechWarrior spoke slowly, haughtily in a rich contralto voice that mixed sincerity with a mocking undertone.

“Clanner. You have invaded my home. You have slaughtered my comrades. You dare ask for my surrender. Allow me to show you what this antiquated machine can do.”


The two ‘Mechs began to circle each other, trotting slowly in a circle that hugged the walls of the box canyon. Logan held off firing anything other than his Crockett’s small lasers as he waited for the built-up heat to fade away. Acknowledging her opponent as a skilled duelist, the Star Colonel similarly held off from her most devastating weapons, alternately firing machine guns and medium lasers so as not to unbalance the relative amounts of damage dealt.

While on pure numbers the advantage seemed to be in Logan’s favour, technology was on the side of Star Colonel Tamara Malthus. Her Mad Cat was one of the more fearsome designs ever produced by the Clans, fast, flexible, and with an amount of weapons and armour similar to that carried by an Inner Sphere design ten or fifteen tones heavier.

The first shots by either side bore little effect, striking out on carefully presented armour. A leg hit here, a shoulder hit there, both MechWarriors presented their best side and missed not due to their own inaccuracy, or flaws in their machines but rather because of the best efforts of their opponent. Attack, parry, riposte, and so it continued for five eternal minutes as they tested the skills and strategies of their counterpart.

The Star Colonel made the first breakthrough, opening up armour over the shoulder of Logan’s Crockett, keeping her advantage only until Logan’s next shot that pared enough armour from one of the bird-like legs of the Clan OmniMech to expose metal bone and myomer muscle.

Logan was aware that time stood on the side of the Jade Falcon Star Colonel. With each volley exchanged, he became more vulnerable to her superior weapons and her impeccable gunnery. Thinking on his feet, he started triggering his jump jets a little with each step taken, hoping to dislodge the jammed missiles that blocked him from using the two Holly SRM-6 launchers that comprised one of his most potent alternatives.


“What is wrong, Spheroid? Are you dancing for joy that you will soon join Clan Jade Falcon?”

Upon Logan’s HUD a small schematic opened up, indicating that the missiles had been knocked loose and the jam cleared. A clunking noise and green light on his controls heralded the arrival of new ammunition. “No, Star Colonel. I was thinking that this has gone on long enough. I have other Clanners to kill.”

“So be it.”


The two machines turned to face each other like boxers at alternate corners of a ring, throwing ordnance at each other like punches. For ten seconds the air was rent by laser beams bursting back and forth, by a full forty missiles launching from the boxy shoulders of the Mad Cat in response to a burst of autocannon fire from the Crockett. The steam had not yet begun to clear by the time the concentrated eruption of violence had concluded itself. Both Logan’s BattleMech and Tamara’s OmniMech were still standing, though devoid of all but the barest amount of armour after having been involved in combat since daybreak.

“You still have a chance before my lasers recycle, Spheroid.”

“Go to hell.”

Of the twelve short-ranged missiles Logan fired, all but one made contact with Star Colonel Malthus’ OmniMech, shredding the gyroscope utterly, ripping off the bottom half of the ‘Mech’s jutting head and severing the ammunition feeds for both long-range missile launchers. The Mad Cat stayed ominously still, slowly sinking onto it’s haunches as the Star Colonel powered her ‘Mech down as if to signal defeat.

Logan paused, watching the mighty machine dropping to the ground. Taking a single breath before sending one final communication to his defeated foe, putting all the venom and implied insult he could muster into one final word.

“Clanner.”


Malibu IV
17th Skye Rangers Field Base Scott
April 1, 2112 Hours

“Congratulations Hauptmann! Most excellent work out there today!” The smiling, inane grin of the Colonel Yves was the first thing Logan saw upon exiting his BattleMech. The Colonel of the militia regiment that had crumbled in the face of the Jade Falcons. The Colonel who had willfully reassigned both his air and ground support, leaving exhausted troops to fight to the death against their Clan opponents.

Colonel Francois Yves.


It had taken Logan three hours to get his Crockett to the field base, one that slowly disappeared before his eyes as support personnel packed and stowed everything they could onto the remaining pair of DropShips. All the while, he had listened in as search and rescue teams had made a quick search of the battleground for survivors. His entire battalion had come to Malibu IV to try and stall the Clan advance, and now only a fraction of thirty-six were leaving.

“Hauptmann Hickock! Over here!”

Logan dropped his neurohelmet onto the floor and marched straight up to the Colonel, his eyes brimming with bitter tears. For some seconds, Francois Yves could do nothing but gape, attempting to force words out to say to the bloodstained MechWarrior in front of him.

“A sterling performance from your chaps today. Gave those Clanners a bloody nose and no mistake. Very commendable.” Yves spoke loudly, attempting to draw attention to himself and his congratulation of the battle-hardened Hickock.

“Colonel.” Although compared to the Colonel’s voice, Logan’s was whisper quiet; it carried an unmistakable seam of iron. “Why was my aerospace support, and my ground support reassigned?”

“I needed them for a salvage operation. According to the reports, your chaps had everything well in hand so I thought I’d make use of them, rather than let them go to waste.”

“Colonel, maybe you were not made aware of no less than fourteen separate requests for support. Had our support been in place, perhaps I would be leaving here with more live MechWarriors than dead ones. What was it that you had to salvage, that was so important that good men and women died for it? What did their blood buy you?”

“Steady on I say. Materiel vital to the war and all that. I couldn’t trust them to be retrieved safely so I needed your support to make sure we got them all right.”

“You let my battalion die for a salvage you can’t even name?”

The Colonel gulped as though he were choking, sucking down as much of the dusty evening air as he could easily manage. “Security. You understand. Now I must be off. Things to do and all that.”


Colonel Yves made for the huge bulk of the Monarch DropShip that served as crew quarters for the 17th Skye Rangers support personnel. For his bolthole. For safety, Logan spat in the dirt at his feet in disgust, shooting one last hateful glance at the thin, weak little man before assisting the astechs in loading his Crockett into the second DropShip left by the rest of the regiment, a tall, fat Overlord.

For the most part, he was silent in his task, fending the few questions from the somber support staff with equally somber looks of his own. Despite bloodying the nose of the Jade Falcons that had hit Malibu IV, it was time to fall back in order to fight again. However, leaving a planet and its people in the hands on an enemy was always a task replete with sorrow, the mood of melancholy affecting all but Colonel Yves, or so it would have seemed. Doubtless, the little weasel would try and sneak his name somewhere into the after-action report and see if some of the acclaim for the minor victory couldn’t be made to fall his own way.

Logan wasn’t sorry to see the back of Malibu IV. Some years ago he may even have chosen to holiday here, but now it was forever stained with the blood of his men. His CO, Sam Danger. The best Kommandant he’d known. Staff Sergeant Valeriy Collins, “Sarge” to almost everyone in the entire regiment. Too many friends dead to ever go back to who he used to be, and all because of one man, who wouldn’t even tell him what salvage had cost him so many comrades.


The task of putting the Crockett aboard the Overlord took little over twenty minutes, exaggerated by the need for caution with so badly a damaged BattleMech. It was, fortunately, time in which the distant whirring of rotor blades grew ever nearer, heralding the arrival of the last search and rescue bird.After-action reports would be dealt with later when he had access to all the collected battle ROMs. His gear had been stowed the day before by his batman, a corporal from the field hospital. All that was left to do was greet the men and women of his battalion that the SAR team brought home. Logan wiped his dirty hands on the blue jumpsuit trousers he wore, arranged the sleeves that had been tied around his waist, and finished up by patting his hair down. There was nothing he could realistically do about the smell that hung around him. Blood, sweat and the scent of burnt metal lay upon him like a second layer of clothes, but from a distance he looked almost commanding.

Given an hour and a half, there would be nothing left of the base but discarded machine parts and burnt rings where DropShips had taken off from. After this final search and rescue helicopter landed the final cleanup would begin. Logan strode to the makeshift landing pad with a sense of purpose, of duty. The last of the Danger Men were coming in…


...”Get me a medic out here, this one’s coding!” Logan stood back mutely as the few medical personal that hadn’t evacuated with the rest of the Regiment’s wounded rushed out from the disappearing field hospital in an attempt to deny the Clans one more victim. It was Chester Lang, “Lake”.

“Corporal. Report.” Logan barked his instructions at the corporal in charge of the SAR team, waiting patiently for the man to turn around and talk to him.

“We got nine live ones out. One died en-route. I don’t know how that one’ll hold up, he got hurt pretty badly. Things out there are real messed up. Dead ‘Mechs all over the place. It looks more like a wrecking yard in that canyon than a battlefield.” To the corporal’s side, the green gowned medics ran with the gurney to the remaining MASH tent left on the ground.

“Who’d you retrieve?”

“Lake, Chalky, Devon, Snowball, Wild, Trigger, Easy, we got Witchunter but she bought in on the ride back. Probably for the best if you knew how messed up she was. We also got Shellshock on the ride back, only picked him up after you radioed his co-ords to us. Too many rads must’ve hit his beacon or something.” A second gurney passed the pair, this time a sealed body bag lay upon it rather than a living person.

“Good work Corporal.”

“Thank you sir.” The corporal began to walk off before stopping sharply and turning to face Logan. “You got any smokes on you sir? My nerves are still jangling after looking at that battlefield. Can’t imagine what it must’ve been like fighting there.”

Logan padded his pockets, checking to see if he had any on him, which he hadn’t. “Sorry Corporal. Can’t help you there.”

“I can.” Blaine Wells, Shellshock, walked towards the pair with a small self-satisfied smile on his face and a green hold-all over his shoulder. He held the packet in the general direction of both men, each of whom gratefully accepted. “Almost bought it that time huh? Someone up above must have mistaken me for a cat, all these chances I keep getting.” Logan nodded at the corporal who backed off and went about his business before taking his comrade’s lighter for his own use.

“Reckon Lake’ll make it?”

“I hope so. I’ve seen people survive worse.”

The two paused, glancing at the field hospital.

“Shame about Witchunter. I was really starting to like her.”

“Shame about a lot of good people.” Logan exhaled a long plume of smoke into the evening air. “Too many dead friends for my liking.”

“You reckon that militia Colonel knows what’s coming to him when the brass enquires about our missing support?” Shellshock grinned like a Cheshire cat, contemplating the near future of Colonel Yves.

“I don’t think he has a clue. But if I find out that his salvage op wasn’t the war-winning effort he claimed it was, the enquiry’s going to seem like a pleasant dream when I come knocking on his door.”

“Amen to that.”