|
This is a story of my friend's mercenary unit, Hail's Angels. It's set back when her character, Hail McGregor, was a captain in Stirling's Fusiliers on Wayside V. I'll post the TO&E later, for anyone who's interested.
----------
19 July 3058
Plains of Torment, Wayside V
Deep Periphery
Star Captain Kenneth Howell strode forward at the controls of his Timber Wolf OmniMech, surveying the destruction his Trinary had wrought. Broken BattleMechs donning the insignia of the Northwind Highlanders laid strewn across the desolate landscape of Wayside V, torn apart by the vicious Smoke Jaguar warriors. A savage grin slid across his face as he saw more Highlander troops in the distance, executing a massive retreat. A rout, he thought. And they will be lucky to have even that.
He passed a handful of fallen Clan OmniMechs, and his grin was replaced with a scowl. That any warrior should fall to these worthless sellsword stravags is truly shameful. These damned Highlanders have the gall to spit on the name of the Star League and the Great Father Kerensky himself. For that they shall pay the ultimate price.
A voice crackled over his comm system: his commander, Star Colonel Josef Furey. “The Highlanders are running, Star Captain. They are broken and afraid. Hunt them down and finish them.” He paused for a moment. “Show them no mercy.”
“Aff, Star Colonel. They will not survive.” He switched over to his Trinary’s general channel. “Striker Trinary, form up on me. These pathetic freebirths will pay for their insolence in the face of the greatest of Kerensky’s Clans. We will taste blood!” There was an affirmative roar over the comms, and then a thousand tons of metal began to stride forward as one.
Nothing could stop them. Nothing at all.
The Star Captain quickly pushed his Timber Wolf up to its top speed. Its back-bent legs loped along like its namesake, kicking up huge clouds of dirt that hung momentarily in the slightly reduced gravity of Wayside V. In the distance, at least a kilometer away, he saw missile contrails streak away from the Highlander ‘Mechs. The missiles impacted uselessly against the ground, and Howell snorted. “Idiots,” he muttered.
“Star Captain, this is Star Commander Barlow. I request permission to take my Star and scout ahead. They are freebirths, aff, but dangerous freebirths, sir.”
“Granted, Star Commander. Proceed, and report in upon first contact with the enemy.” He slowed his Timber Wolf to a walk, and watched as his Harasser Star, led by Barlow’s Stormcrow, sped off into the distance. Soon, the grey-painted Jaguar ‘Mechs disappeared, fading into the mute grey hills of Wayside V’s lifeless soil.
After five minutes without contact with Barlow’s Star, Howell began to worry. He keyed his comm. “Star Commander Barlow, report in.”
Static.
“Star Commander Barlow, report in now.”
Static.
“Freebirth!” Howell smashed his fist against the console, sending sparks and his own blood flying. Wiping off his gashed hand across his mouth, he grimaced and keyed his comm again. “Striker Trinary, move forward at best speed. We must ascertain the status of Star Commander Barlow’s unit.” At his command, ten Clan OmniMechs once again began to jog forward.
Howell’s remaining Star Commander found them first.
“Star Captain, this is Star Commander Katya. I have discovered the remains of Barlow’s Star.”
Remains. Howell didn’t like the sound of that word. But as his Timber Wolf crested a large ridge, he saw it was an apt one, nevertheless.
The ‘Mechs of Barlow’s former Star laid scattered across the rough ground like the tortured souls of the damned, twisted and shredded, their armor caved in from massive explosions. Howell saw Barlow’s Stormcrow, sprawled on its back like a puppet with its strings cut. The OmniMech’s cockpit was torn open.
Nothing was left of the Star Commander’s body. Nothing at all.
Star Commander Katya’s voice issued from his cockpit’s speakers. “Star Captain, there appear to be no signs of weapons fire. My only conclusion is that Star Commander Barlow and his unit were killed by—”
As she spoke, Howell watched as Katya’s Mad Dog stepped ponderously forward. One three-toed foot came down on the ground…
…and a massive explosion issued forth, ripping the limb away from the rest of the ‘Mech.
“Minefield!”
Howell didn’t know who said it, but every ‘Mech in the unit immediately began to backpedal. The Star Captain saw, with growing horror, Katya’s ‘Mech topple over. Another explosion engulfed the left side of the Mad Dog, followed by a series of even larger secondary explosions as the ammo bins there cooked off catastrophically, consuming the entire machine in a huge ball of flame. The Star Commander did not eject.
And then all hell broke loose.
A loud, horrible wailing came over his speakers, threatening to overwhelm Howell’s senses. Simultaneously, the voice of one of his warriors came through. “Sir, we have contact on the left flank! It’s the...” And then the voice was replaced with the sound of weapons fire.
Howell spun his Timber Wolf to the left, and saw a wall of Highlander BattleMechs charging toward him. He saw an Adder from his Star catch three gauss slugs flung from a towering Thunder Hawk, flipping the ‘Mech off of its feet and onto its broad back. No ejection. He saw another of his ‘Mechs, a squat Cauldron-born, literally collapse inward from the combined fire of at least five enemy ‘Mechs. No ejection. He saw an ancient Highlander stride forward and plant a gauss slug directly into the cockpit of an equally imposing Kingfisher. No ejection.
He saw all of this, and knew he was going to die.
Nothing would stop the Highlanders now. Nothing at all.
“This is Star Captain Kenneth Howell of 22nd Jaguar Grenadiers, Striker Trinary. I challenge the commander of this Highlander unit to Trial of Possession for these plains.” He paused. “He or she who would meet me in single combat, and face the Jaguar’s fury, speak now.”
One by one, each of the massive metal titans ceased firing. Howell’s remaining ‘Mechs formed a large and loose half-circle. The Highlander ‘Mechs, much to the surprise of the Star Captain, stepped forward to complete the other half, making a ring of ‘Mechs a few hundred meters in diameter. Howell stepped his Timber Wolf forward into the ring. Then, directly across from him, the massive Highlander he had seen earlier also stepped into the ring.
“Freebirth scum,” Howell spat. “I am Star Captain Kenneth Howell of the greatest of Kerensky’s Clans, the Smoke Jaguars. I will crush your ‘Mech, rip out your heart, and feast on your blood.” The blood already smeared across his mouth only completed the image of Howell as a vicious predator.
“I am Cap’n Hail McGregor o’ the Northwind Highlanders,” came a thickly-accented voice over Howell’s speakers. “I, too, hail from the Clans – the great Clans o’ Scotland, on ancient Terra. We were fightin’ in wars a t’ousand years b’fore yer great Kerensky was ever born, lil’ kitty.”
At this insult, Howell roared with rage. He settled his crosshairs over the towering Highlander and opened fire. But McGregor was already on the move. The Highlander leapt into the air on jets of superheated plasma, a fusillade of missiles and laser beams passing through the spot where it had been a moment ago.
McGregor’s ‘Mech landed to his right, and a moment later his ‘Mech was pummeled with both long-range and short-range missiles. A hypersonic, nickel-ferrous slug punched into his right leg, shattering ferro-fibrous armor and sending his Timber Wolf stumbling forward. Although he managed to keep the heavy ‘Mech upright, a warning indicator on one of his many monitors let him know that the shot had destroyed one of the actuators in that leg. My right side is far too vulnerable to damage. I need to keep her to my left. Howell knew that any combat at these ranges would be fast and deadly, and that the superior armor of the Highlander gave it an immense advantage.
Using his superior speed, the Star Captain whipped his ‘Mech around, and then twisted his torso to the left, so that he was facing the Highlander yet again. Twin large lasers lashed out, gouging deep scars in the barrel-chest of the opposing ‘Mech. They were followed by a flight of more than three dozen missiles, which peppered the Highlander with explosions and shook it violently. Waste heat flooded into the Timber Wolf’s cockpit, bathing Howell in sweat. It stung his eyes, and the stink of it flooded his nose.
But Howell was a Clan warrior, bred his entire life for battle. Nothing affected him while he was on the field of war.
Nothing at all.
The two ‘Mechs danced about within the circle, exchanging massive amounts of weapons fire and losing just as massive amounts of armor. Both pilots equally skilled, each side watched their commander with awe, not caring when stray shots hit their own ‘Mechs. For a period of time that felt like hours but was probably only a few minutes, Howell was locked in bitter combat, sure of his eventual victory.
Seeing an opportunity, the Star Captain closed to within only a few dozen meters, and opened fire with everything he had. Missile and lasers pounded at the Highlander, pushing the pilot to the brink of her piloting skill. For a moment, the massive assault ‘Mech teetered; then gravity took hold, and the Highlander toppled onto its back.
Yet another savage grin found its way onto Howell’s face. It was a look of triumph. He keyed the comm yet again.
“Foolish freebirth. I am a trueborn, Bloodnamed warrior of the Clans. Scum like you know nothing of war. This is how a real warrior fights.” And then he lowered his crosshairs over the cockpit of the Highlander, intending to finish off McGregor once and for all
.
Then the Highlander balled its right fist, and cocked its arm back. And Howell realized the grave error he’d just made.
“Lil’ kitty, I dinnae think the Clans taught ye anythin’ o’ real war. This is how a real warrior fights, lad.” And the Highlander’s massive fist smashed into his weak right leg, breaking it in two.
“NO!” Howell roared. But his fury was nothing compared to the force of gravity. The Timber Wolf pirouetted like a giant metal dancer, and then collapsed onto its side. Its right arm, already heavily damaged, snapped off from the impact, and the boxy missile launcher mounted like an ear on the right side of the torso wrenched away and exploded, doing horrific armor damage to the thin rear armor of his ‘Mech. Shrapnel and flame wreaked havoc on the internal components of his ‘Mech, and a monotone voice told him that his gyro was too damaged for him to continue to move his ‘Mech.
In other words, the fight was over.
He sat there in relative silence for a few moments, listening only to the sound of his own panting breath, and watched as the Highlander slowly regained its feet and stood over him. Then he reached over and yet again activated his comm.
“This is Star Captain Kenneth Howell. I have lost, and am shamed in defeat. I ask only that you give me a warrior’s death, for I shall never be bondsman to a freebirth such as yourself.”
The Highlander leveled its gigantic gauss rifle with the Timber Wolf’s bulletlike cockpit. “That, lil’ kitty, is something I kin understand. An’ somethin’ I kin eas’ly oblige.”
There was the thunderclap of the rifle firing.
And then Star Captain Kenneth Howell felt nothing.
Nothing at all.
_________________
"I have vanquished you, lizard slavers. And now, behold the pelvic gyrations of my victory boogie."
- Space Ghost
Last edited by Flagg on Thu Mar 17, 2005 12:20 am, edited 6 times in total.
|
