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Throw a Stone (BT/afterSI)
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1.1 Throw a Stone
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AN: On recommendation, I'm also posting this here. Will update daily until we catch up to the latest chapter.
Colchester
Markesan Operation Area, Crucis March
Federated Suns
5 April 3024
Colchester was about as unremarkable a world as you could get in the Federated Suns. It had been in Davion hands for nearly five hundred years now, and through all the changes in the Inner Sphere - even through the glory days of the Star League and the chaos and atrocities of the Succession Wars, had passed mostly unchanged.
Deep within the Crucis March, the very heartland of the Federated Suns, Colchester had little to fear from raids or invasion. This also meant that its planetary defenses were quite meager. In their service to House Davion, Colchester had been chosen to serve as their homeworld for the duration of their contract.
It was far enough from the theater of war against the Draconis Combine to keep their dependents safe, while only several Jumps away to support their military operations.
It was three jumps away from Hoff, which in 3019 the Eridani Light Horse faced off against the Wolf's Dragoons who in service to House Kurita attempted to take the world and to seize or destroy the research facilities House Davion had placed on the planet. The Eridani Light Horse successfully fended off the Dragoons but the aftermath left them badly mauled. Prince Hanse Davion, pleased with their performance, granted them time to rebuild their forces.
Most large mercenary units would take this time to begin a concentrated recruiting and retraining effort, but the Eridani Light Horse were not your usual mercenary unit. The Light Horse was formed from the Star League Self Defense Force's (SLDF) 3rd Regimental Combat Team (RCT) that decided to stay rather than accompany General Kerensky's exodus of the SLDF away from the Inner Sphere and taking all the might of the SLDF with him.
They maintained the traditions and regulations of the SLDF even as they served the House Lords as mercenaries. They maintained themselves as the SLDF-in-Being, letting their guns be used only in service of those that maintained the honor and integrity of the Star League. It was either this or face impending starvation trying to eke out a living farming poor worlds out in the Periphery. Making the best of a bad situation, the Light Horse had this as their best compromise.
This meant that the Eridani Light Horse would never engage in acts that violated the Ares Accords. They never attack civilians, nor inflict undue harm on the innocent, nor execute surrendered prisoners.
Operating as a full combined arms force, the Eridani Light Horse owned their own JumpShips, DropShips, and three regiments of BattleMech, Vehicles, Artillery, and AeroSpace Fighters. They had a sizable population of dependents and a training regimen to replace losses from their own pool of recruits ready to step into place.
Therefore Eridani Light Horse's recruitment process rarely relied on outsiders. It was easier to get into armor and infantry, but there were higher standards for BattleMech recruitment, and mercenaries had to know that once you join the Light Horse effectively there was no leaving it.
--
The Eridani Light Horse based themselves on Fort Bradley, an encampment they constructed some distance away from the planetary capital of Constable.
Three regiments of some of the most battle hardened soldiers in the entire Inner Sphere meant that the planetary garrison had no issues seconding their defense and sensor nets to the Eridani Light Horse.
Therefore it was not at all difficult to notice a single Mech approaching the base.
Straight from the spaceport, trundling along towards Fort Bradley, at a very sedate 32 kph. Given that the camp was only six kilometers away, it would not be a terribly long walk.
Barbara Mosley belonged to the 2nd Recon Company (Nightcrawlers) of the 6th Recon Battalion (Stimson's Stealther's) of the 21st Striker Regiment of the Eridani Light Horse.
She rode a Phoenix Hawk while accompanied by Jack Finsrud in a Vulcan. Command sent out a pair of speedy Medium Mechs as any more would be unwarranted unless this was a trap.
"Attention, inbound BattleMech!" she shouted into the radio. "You are approaching a restricted area! Halt and state your intentions or we will be forced to take measures."
"It's an Urbanmech…" Jack sighed.
It was hard to mistake the walking trashcan for anything else. It was painted in pale utilitarian green similar to their own shade of SLDF olive drab.
He could already taste his time being wasted, but the Eridani Light Horse remembered well the history of their dependents being slaughtered by House Kurita and so they never relaxed when it comes to security.
"Hello? You people are of the Eridani Light Horse, right?" The Urbanmech stopped and the responding voice was male but sounded far too young. "I have a message to deliver to your commanding general from my father, and… and, if permitted, I would like to try to join the SLDF."
Barbara blinked. She was a veteran MechWarrior born and raised in the culture of the Light Horse, but they did recruit from outsiders on occasion. Preferably while they were still young and able to be re-trained.
Their Brevet General, Nathan L. Armstrong was the first outsider to command the Eridani Light Horse, but he was adopted while still a child. More pertinent perhaps was Major Earl Dirkson, commander of the 5th Striker Battalion of the 21st Strikers Regiment, who found an intact Mech after a Marik raid and then joined the Eridani Light Horse.
Major Dirkson was a tolerant trainer of young and reckless MechWarriors as he was the same in his youth, and Barbara had fond memories of the officer helping out with the battalion in mock combat scenarios.
"But it's an Urbanmech…." Jack's voice whined through the comms again.
Barbara chuckled. Yes, though Major Dirkson might have been a brash and callow youth, but he was also a young MechWarrior that showed up with an 80-ton Victor.
"I am sorry, but the Eridani Light Horse are not accepting any applicants at this time. If you have any further concerns you may contact us at our offices of outreach back at Constable. Any messages can be passed through official channels."
"Umm. Yes, that would be proper… but this is important. Father said that I have to deliver it in person, it can't be delivered electronically. It's… important SLDF business."
"And who is your father?"
"He called himself Doctor Ivo Robotnik, but you wouldn't know him. It's a fake name."
Yes, well obviously. "I'm not seeing a reason to allow you to even approach the base, much less meet our commanding officer. I'm sorry, but you must understand. These are important security protocols."
"I respect that. But… it's really really really important. I have to prove that it's not just nonsense…. so-" The pilot of the Urbanmech took a deep breath and the large weapon mount on its right side flicked up.
Barbara and Jack had all this time kept their weapons carefully trained on the other BattleMech, but fortunately while they jerked at their controls had discipline not to fire in reflex.
The weapon pod flicked straight up and the Urbanmech angled its bulbous body backwards.
"I challenge you to a race!" said its pilot.
Barbara blinked. Blinked again. She flicked the radio again and said, "Excuse me?"
"I challenge you to race. Please."
"I'm not sure I'm hearing this correctly."
"Race me. You. Me. Run. If I win, I want to be able to talk to someone with authority in the SLDF. I can leave the Mech behind if you want, but I need to talk to someone about this. My father has a message that has to be passed on until your General hears about it and decides if it's worth his time."
"I'm sorry, you are speaking things but I'm not entirely comprehending…"
"I bet my Mech is faster than your Mech."
Jack Finsrud interrupted with "Barb, I think maybe you should make this one go back. Who knows if his brain fever is infectious or something."
Barbara grimaced. "You… you do know I'm riding Phoenix Hawk, right? A Phoenix Hawk. You're inside an Urbanmech."
"Yes, that is so. Regardless, I would like to challenge you to a race anyway. I would most likely lose, but my father said this would help prove my bona fides. Race me, sir. Or ma'am. I'm not sure what the SLDF rules on rank."
"It is ma'am, as dame is the equal rank to sir. Female officers should be referred to as sir," Barbara replied in reflex. "But I am not here to entertain you - I must ask that you do not waste any more of our time."
"ER PPC."
Barbara blinked again. That… did not follow. What did PPCs have to do with their conversation?
"This Mech is mounting an ER PPC instead of an AC/10. You can check your sensors, right?"
Barbara glanced at her HUD. Huh. Her Mech sensors did successfully identify that it was packing a PPC. But again, what did that have to do with anything?
"I'm sorry but I don't follow how that is relevant."
"My father found Lostech. He's dead now, rad poisoning. But his last wish for me is to tell the SLDF about his cache and for me to try and join the SLDF. I wager this entire Mech. I don't care about being Dispossessed, I wasn't anything until father adopted me and being a MechWarrior isn't… worth anything… unless it's fighting for the SLDF."
The boy's voice was calm and clipped, but Barbara could hear the tremor in it.
"Please! Just… please. Race me. Let me just show you what I can do. Or else it would just be wasted."
Barbara's Phoenix Hawk stepped back and while still keeping a Large Laser pointed at the Urbanmech, turned slightly towards Jack's Vulcan.
The anti-infantry mech with spherical helmet-like head gave a minute shrug.
"It's an Urbanmech…" Jack said for the third time. Still as bland and disinterested in everything about this malarky.
"... You know what? Fine. Damn me for my sympathy, but just know that if there's any weapons fire you're going to have a striker lance on your head faster than you can blink."
"I understand those risks. No weapons. Just running," replied the boy.
"Jack, mark us out a five-click stretch."
"Really. You're doing this," her lacemate responded drly. His Mech wagged a handless weapon arm at her. "It's an Urbanmech!"
"Let's just get this over with."
The two Mechs walked over to stand side by side, and in doing so exposed even more their staggering differences. The Phoenix Hawk was a 45-ton machine prized by the SLDF as reconnaissance leader with its streamlined body and powerful Jump Jets on a backpack-like assembly. The Urbanmech was a dumpy 30-ton machine that while comparing it to a walking trash can was uncharitable it was also not inaccurate. It also had the record for being one of the slowest Mechs ever built with a top speed of 32 kilometers per hour. Even Assault Mechs were faster, most of whom could reliably hit 54 km/h.
However, speed was not very relevant in cramped city fighting as the name of the Mech implied - urban combat rarely allows for going full speed. The low-slung little Mech at least was good for ducking in and out of cover to plug away with its Autocannon/10 - at least until it runs out of ammo - but in open country it would shortly be murdered in most pathetic fashion.
This could only end in humiliation. "Are you sure about this?" Barbara had to ask.
"Yes. Sure. I'm sure."
"Look, the rated running speed of my Phoenix Hawk is ninety-six kph. All-out sprinting lets me break hundred kph easy."
The Phoenix Hawk might only have 15 tons over the Urbanmech, but its legs alone were almost as long as the Urbie was tall. Stride length alone gave it an insurmountable advantage.
"My Mech might not be as fast as that, but it's no slouch. You'll see."
"Well… you asked for it." Barbara turned away to see the Vulcan had stopped at five kilometers away.
The terrain was reasonably flat, and composed of unused grassland. Whatever cows that were grazing had long been frightened away by the sound of tromping BattleMech feet.
"On three, we go," said Barbara, her fingers lightly gripping the throttle. "One…
"Two…
"Three!"
She pushed the throttle to 50% instead of full acceleration. While this could only be foregone conclusion, a Phoenix Hawk just accelerates so damn fast as befitting a Scout mech and she decided to just keep pace with the boy in the Urbanmech for a while so he gets an idea of real Mech movement.
The Urbanmech went stomp stomp stomp rolling full acceleration, pumping its stumpy little legs as fast as it mechanically could.
Barbara Mosley gazed forward in incomprehension, then flicked her eyes down at the speed indicator - rising from zero to holding at 47 kph within 6 seconds - then back up to see… yep.
That was the back of an Urbanmech.
Barbara pushed the throttle forward until she matched the Urbanmech's pace, and checked again the speed reading when they were side by side. It was 81 kilometers per hour.
That was solid Medium mech performance!
Urbanmechs were supposed to have a top speed of 32 kilometers per hour, what the hell!
But…
Her Phoenix Hawk could do 97 kph easy.
She flicked the radio and said "That's no regular Urbanmech! There's no way you can win this, but how are you packing a big enough Engine for this much speed AND a PPC?"
"NANOMACHINES, SON!!!" the boy screamed back and accelerated past nominal running speed to an all-out sprint.
For a moment the Urbanmech surged ahead, and then Barbara kept pace with her Phoenix Hawk. 90 kph. 100 kph. 110 kph.
Barbaba couldn't help but to let out a disbelieving little almost girlish giggle. The stride length difference meant that to keep the same speed the little Urbanmech needed to move its little trunk legs twice as much. It was a wonder that its servos were not tearing themselves apart.
This was about as fast as it could go. The finish line was near, and even through the faceless cockpit of the Vulcan she could tell that Jack was boggling.
She accelerated past the machine… 120 kph. 128 kph.
She only had eyes for the empty space in front and then the rapidly approaching Vulcan as a landmark.
And there with a strange lingering shriek, from her left the Urbanmech pulled through with this shaking and tippling from side-to-side gait at just around 135 kph.
The faceless cockpit glass of the Vulcan was the very example of the expression 'Whut' as the Urbanmech passed it by.
The radio was filled with a mindless "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA" as the boy in the Mech tried to control his machine and try to get it to a graceful stop instead of faceplanting.
The out-of-control overspeeding Urbanmech ran straight into the forest past the finish line and Barbara winced at the sound of splintering wood and trees being ripped right out of their roots. The cracks and snaps continued for quite a while until finally, slowly, mercifully… the Urbanmech managed to stop.
The pair of Light Horse mechs gingerly walked over to inspect the damage and see if they needed to radio for a recovery vehicle.
From out of the furrow carved into the forest, the Urbanmech emerged limping. Apart from some scratches on the paint, the Mech looked none the worse for wear. The uncomplicated shape and form of the Urbanmech meant they were surprisingly sturdy little things.
Barbara approached and slapped the rounded dome top of the Urbanmech with her Large Laser weapon pod.
"What the heck was that?!" she shouted excitedly over comms. "That was amazing! I hope you didn't wreck your motivators doing that, but… damn. If this wasn't on BattleROM no one's ever going to believe this. I'll eat the punishment if necessary, but for me making an Urbie outrun a Phoenix Hawk earns you at least an introduction to our tech division."
"What the hell, no way a trashcan can go over a hundred kilometers per hour!" Jack put in. "How is that even possible?"
"My father said this is some sort of… Super Royal Urbanmech. Its normal running speed is eighty-six kilometers per hour, but it has a Supercharger. It has an Extra Light Engine. It can do all of this and still meaningfully pack in an ER PPC in place of the Autocannon. The UM-SSR was a secret Star League project to create the most optimized militia mech platform ever."
"Fancy! Well you got my interest. I can't say this is enough to get you to join the Light Horse, but it's enough to give you a shot at the training program. I don't know if the General will talk to you, but whatever message you have, we'll be sure to pass it on."
"There are more of this. That's why I need to talk to the Brevet General. My father's dying wish was to hand over the regiment to the only good remaining piece of the SLDF that remains in this universe."
"A regi-... what."
"Hey, kid," said Jack Finsurd. "What's your name?" His voice no longer held any of the boredom from earlier.
Barbara nodded, realizing that they had never asked. "I am, by the way, Barbara Mosley, and this is Jack Finsrud. 6th Recon Company, 21st Strikers Regiment. You are?"
"Oh. I had a different name before but my dad gave me a new one. I'm keeping it. My name's Devlin. Call me Devlin Stone."
--
--
Toss a stone in the pond,
And watch what ripples form
From a drop might great changes erupt
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Herotitus
Deep Periphery
31 January 3019
A man with a bushy mustache stood up and rubbed at his eyes. He squinted, the bright neon lights of this street of desire stung at his eyes. He grabbed at his forehead, and found there a pair of welder's goggles. He slid the dark glasses over his eyes, and smiled with relief.
He sniffed at the air stinking with refuse and perfume and grinned. People passed by without giving a care to this somewhat pudgy person in a technician's suit. Perhaps a whore or two glanced, wondering if the tech was here to spend some cash. But with his bald head and strangely large teeth for his jaw, they didn't care enough to make the first move. There were plenty of other, less grungy potential customers.
The man put both arms on his hips and cackled like a madman.
This too, no one gave a shit about.
"Looks like I'm early!" he whispered to himself. "Too early. Helm is so overdone. Now... what to do in times like this?" He looked at his left wrist and at the green blob of assorted mysterious devices there. Prominent among them was a symbol that looked like a blue diamond. He jerked back, remembering. "Ah, I know! YOU START WITH ORPHANS!"
The man cricked his neck and went off to search for the nearest orphanage.
--
--
Deep Periphery
31 January 3019
A man with a bushy mustache stood up and rubbed at his eyes. He squinted, the bright neon lights of this street of desire stung at his eyes. He grabbed at his forehead, and found there a pair of welder's goggles. He slid the dark glasses over his eyes, and smiled with relief.
He sniffed at the air stinking with refuse and perfume and grinned. People passed by without giving a care to this somewhat pudgy person in a technician's suit. Perhaps a whore or two glanced, wondering if the tech was here to spend some cash. But with his bald head and strangely large teeth for his jaw, they didn't care enough to make the first move. There were plenty of other, less grungy potential customers.
The man put both arms on his hips and cackled like a madman.
This too, no one gave a shit about.
"Looks like I'm early!" he whispered to himself. "Too early. Helm is so overdone. Now... what to do in times like this?" He looked at his left wrist and at the green blob of assorted mysterious devices there. Prominent among them was a symbol that looked like a blue diamond. He jerked back, remembering. "Ah, I know! YOU START WITH ORPHANS!"
The man cricked his neck and went off to search for the nearest orphanage.
--
--
Colchester
Markesan Operation Area, Crucis March
Federated Suns
5 April 3024
Colchester was about as unremarkable a world as you could get in the Federated Suns. It had been in Davion hands for nearly five hundred years now, and through all the changes in the Inner Sphere - even through the glory days of the Star League and the chaos and atrocities of the Succession Wars, had passed mostly unchanged.
Deep within the Crucis March, the very heartland of the Federated Suns, Colchester had little to fear from raids or invasion. This also meant that its planetary defenses were quite meager. In their service to House Davion, Colchester had been chosen to serve as their homeworld for the duration of their contract.
It was far enough from the theater of war against the Draconis Combine to keep their dependents safe, while only several Jumps away to support their military operations.
It was three jumps away from Hoff, which in 3019 the Eridani Light Horse faced off against the Wolf's Dragoons who in service to House Kurita attempted to take the world and to seize or destroy the research facilities House Davion had placed on the planet. The Eridani Light Horse successfully fended off the Dragoons but the aftermath left them badly mauled. Prince Hanse Davion, pleased with their performance, granted them time to rebuild their forces.
Most large mercenary units would take this time to begin a concentrated recruiting and retraining effort, but the Eridani Light Horse were not your usual mercenary unit. The Light Horse was formed from the Star League Self Defense Force's (SLDF) 3rd Regimental Combat Team (RCT) that decided to stay rather than accompany General Kerensky's exodus of the SLDF away from the Inner Sphere and taking all the might of the SLDF with him.
They maintained the traditions and regulations of the SLDF even as they served the House Lords as mercenaries. They maintained themselves as the SLDF-in-Being, letting their guns be used only in service of those that maintained the honor and integrity of the Star League. It was either this or face impending starvation trying to eke out a living farming poor worlds out in the Periphery. Making the best of a bad situation, the Light Horse had this as their best compromise.
This meant that the Eridani Light Horse would never engage in acts that violated the Ares Accords. They never attack civilians, nor inflict undue harm on the innocent, nor execute surrendered prisoners.
Operating as a full combined arms force, the Eridani Light Horse owned their own JumpShips, DropShips, and three regiments of BattleMech, Vehicles, Artillery, and AeroSpace Fighters. They had a sizable population of dependents and a training regimen to replace losses from their own pool of recruits ready to step into place.
Therefore Eridani Light Horse's recruitment process rarely relied on outsiders. It was easier to get into armor and infantry, but there were higher standards for BattleMech recruitment, and mercenaries had to know that once you join the Light Horse effectively there was no leaving it.
--
The Eridani Light Horse based themselves on Fort Bradley, an encampment they constructed some distance away from the planetary capital of Constable.
Three regiments of some of the most battle hardened soldiers in the entire Inner Sphere meant that the planetary garrison had no issues seconding their defense and sensor nets to the Eridani Light Horse.
Therefore it was not at all difficult to notice a single Mech approaching the base.
Straight from the spaceport, trundling along towards Fort Bradley, at a very sedate 32 kph. Given that the camp was only six kilometers away, it would not be a terribly long walk.
Barbara Mosley belonged to the 2nd Recon Company (Nightcrawlers) of the 6th Recon Battalion (Stimson's Stealther's) of the 21st Striker Regiment of the Eridani Light Horse.
She rode a Phoenix Hawk while accompanied by Jack Finsrud in a Vulcan. Command sent out a pair of speedy Medium Mechs as any more would be unwarranted unless this was a trap.
"Attention, inbound BattleMech!" she shouted into the radio. "You are approaching a restricted area! Halt and state your intentions or we will be forced to take measures."
"It's an Urbanmech…" Jack sighed.
It was hard to mistake the walking trashcan for anything else. It was painted in pale utilitarian green similar to their own shade of SLDF olive drab.
He could already taste his time being wasted, but the Eridani Light Horse remembered well the history of their dependents being slaughtered by House Kurita and so they never relaxed when it comes to security.
"Hello? You people are of the Eridani Light Horse, right?" The Urbanmech stopped and the responding voice was male but sounded far too young. "I have a message to deliver to your commanding general from my father, and… and, if permitted, I would like to try to join the SLDF."
Barbara blinked. She was a veteran MechWarrior born and raised in the culture of the Light Horse, but they did recruit from outsiders on occasion. Preferably while they were still young and able to be re-trained.
Their Brevet General, Nathan L. Armstrong was the first outsider to command the Eridani Light Horse, but he was adopted while still a child. More pertinent perhaps was Major Earl Dirkson, commander of the 5th Striker Battalion of the 21st Strikers Regiment, who found an intact Mech after a Marik raid and then joined the Eridani Light Horse.
Major Dirkson was a tolerant trainer of young and reckless MechWarriors as he was the same in his youth, and Barbara had fond memories of the officer helping out with the battalion in mock combat scenarios.
"But it's an Urbanmech…." Jack's voice whined through the comms again.
Barbara chuckled. Yes, though Major Dirkson might have been a brash and callow youth, but he was also a young MechWarrior that showed up with an 80-ton Victor.
"I am sorry, but the Eridani Light Horse are not accepting any applicants at this time. If you have any further concerns you may contact us at our offices of outreach back at Constable. Any messages can be passed through official channels."
"Umm. Yes, that would be proper… but this is important. Father said that I have to deliver it in person, it can't be delivered electronically. It's… important SLDF business."
"And who is your father?"
"He called himself Doctor Ivo Robotnik, but you wouldn't know him. It's a fake name."
Yes, well obviously. "I'm not seeing a reason to allow you to even approach the base, much less meet our commanding officer. I'm sorry, but you must understand. These are important security protocols."
"I respect that. But… it's really really really important. I have to prove that it's not just nonsense…. so-" The pilot of the Urbanmech took a deep breath and the large weapon mount on its right side flicked up.
Barbara and Jack had all this time kept their weapons carefully trained on the other BattleMech, but fortunately while they jerked at their controls had discipline not to fire in reflex.
The weapon pod flicked straight up and the Urbanmech angled its bulbous body backwards.
"I challenge you to a race!" said its pilot.
Barbara blinked. Blinked again. She flicked the radio again and said, "Excuse me?"
"I challenge you to race. Please."
"I'm not sure I'm hearing this correctly."
"Race me. You. Me. Run. If I win, I want to be able to talk to someone with authority in the SLDF. I can leave the Mech behind if you want, but I need to talk to someone about this. My father has a message that has to be passed on until your General hears about it and decides if it's worth his time."
"I'm sorry, you are speaking things but I'm not entirely comprehending…"
"I bet my Mech is faster than your Mech."
Jack Finsrud interrupted with "Barb, I think maybe you should make this one go back. Who knows if his brain fever is infectious or something."
Barbara grimaced. "You… you do know I'm riding Phoenix Hawk, right? A Phoenix Hawk. You're inside an Urbanmech."
"Yes, that is so. Regardless, I would like to challenge you to a race anyway. I would most likely lose, but my father said this would help prove my bona fides. Race me, sir. Or ma'am. I'm not sure what the SLDF rules on rank."
"It is ma'am, as dame is the equal rank to sir. Female officers should be referred to as sir," Barbara replied in reflex. "But I am not here to entertain you - I must ask that you do not waste any more of our time."
"ER PPC."
Barbara blinked again. That… did not follow. What did PPCs have to do with their conversation?
"This Mech is mounting an ER PPC instead of an AC/10. You can check your sensors, right?"
Barbara glanced at her HUD. Huh. Her Mech sensors did successfully identify that it was packing a PPC. But again, what did that have to do with anything?
"I'm sorry but I don't follow how that is relevant."
"My father found Lostech. He's dead now, rad poisoning. But his last wish for me is to tell the SLDF about his cache and for me to try and join the SLDF. I wager this entire Mech. I don't care about being Dispossessed, I wasn't anything until father adopted me and being a MechWarrior isn't… worth anything… unless it's fighting for the SLDF."
The boy's voice was calm and clipped, but Barbara could hear the tremor in it.
"Please! Just… please. Race me. Let me just show you what I can do. Or else it would just be wasted."
Barbara's Phoenix Hawk stepped back and while still keeping a Large Laser pointed at the Urbanmech, turned slightly towards Jack's Vulcan.
The anti-infantry mech with spherical helmet-like head gave a minute shrug.
"It's an Urbanmech…" Jack said for the third time. Still as bland and disinterested in everything about this malarky.
"... You know what? Fine. Damn me for my sympathy, but just know that if there's any weapons fire you're going to have a striker lance on your head faster than you can blink."
"I understand those risks. No weapons. Just running," replied the boy.
"Jack, mark us out a five-click stretch."
"Really. You're doing this," her lacemate responded drly. His Mech wagged a handless weapon arm at her. "It's an Urbanmech!"
"Let's just get this over with."
The two Mechs walked over to stand side by side, and in doing so exposed even more their staggering differences. The Phoenix Hawk was a 45-ton machine prized by the SLDF as reconnaissance leader with its streamlined body and powerful Jump Jets on a backpack-like assembly. The Urbanmech was a dumpy 30-ton machine that while comparing it to a walking trash can was uncharitable it was also not inaccurate. It also had the record for being one of the slowest Mechs ever built with a top speed of 32 kilometers per hour. Even Assault Mechs were faster, most of whom could reliably hit 54 km/h.
However, speed was not very relevant in cramped city fighting as the name of the Mech implied - urban combat rarely allows for going full speed. The low-slung little Mech at least was good for ducking in and out of cover to plug away with its Autocannon/10 - at least until it runs out of ammo - but in open country it would shortly be murdered in most pathetic fashion.
This could only end in humiliation. "Are you sure about this?" Barbara had to ask.
"Yes. Sure. I'm sure."
"Look, the rated running speed of my Phoenix Hawk is ninety-six kph. All-out sprinting lets me break hundred kph easy."
The Phoenix Hawk might only have 15 tons over the Urbanmech, but its legs alone were almost as long as the Urbie was tall. Stride length alone gave it an insurmountable advantage.
"My Mech might not be as fast as that, but it's no slouch. You'll see."
"Well… you asked for it." Barbara turned away to see the Vulcan had stopped at five kilometers away.
The terrain was reasonably flat, and composed of unused grassland. Whatever cows that were grazing had long been frightened away by the sound of tromping BattleMech feet.
"On three, we go," said Barbara, her fingers lightly gripping the throttle. "One…
"Two…
"Three!"
She pushed the throttle to 50% instead of full acceleration. While this could only be foregone conclusion, a Phoenix Hawk just accelerates so damn fast as befitting a Scout mech and she decided to just keep pace with the boy in the Urbanmech for a while so he gets an idea of real Mech movement.
The Urbanmech went stomp stomp stomp rolling full acceleration, pumping its stumpy little legs as fast as it mechanically could.
Barbara Mosley gazed forward in incomprehension, then flicked her eyes down at the speed indicator - rising from zero to holding at 47 kph within 6 seconds - then back up to see… yep.
That was the back of an Urbanmech.
Barbara pushed the throttle forward until she matched the Urbanmech's pace, and checked again the speed reading when they were side by side. It was 81 kilometers per hour.
That was solid Medium mech performance!
Urbanmechs were supposed to have a top speed of 32 kilometers per hour, what the hell!
But…
Her Phoenix Hawk could do 97 kph easy.
She flicked the radio and said "That's no regular Urbanmech! There's no way you can win this, but how are you packing a big enough Engine for this much speed AND a PPC?"
"NANOMACHINES, SON!!!" the boy screamed back and accelerated past nominal running speed to an all-out sprint.
For a moment the Urbanmech surged ahead, and then Barbara kept pace with her Phoenix Hawk. 90 kph. 100 kph. 110 kph.
Barbaba couldn't help but to let out a disbelieving little almost girlish giggle. The stride length difference meant that to keep the same speed the little Urbanmech needed to move its little trunk legs twice as much. It was a wonder that its servos were not tearing themselves apart.
This was about as fast as it could go. The finish line was near, and even through the faceless cockpit of the Vulcan she could tell that Jack was boggling.
She accelerated past the machine… 120 kph. 128 kph.
She only had eyes for the empty space in front and then the rapidly approaching Vulcan as a landmark.
And there with a strange lingering shriek, from her left the Urbanmech pulled through with this shaking and tippling from side-to-side gait at just around 135 kph.
The faceless cockpit glass of the Vulcan was the very example of the expression 'Whut' as the Urbanmech passed it by.
The radio was filled with a mindless "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA" as the boy in the Mech tried to control his machine and try to get it to a graceful stop instead of faceplanting.
The out-of-control overspeeding Urbanmech ran straight into the forest past the finish line and Barbara winced at the sound of splintering wood and trees being ripped right out of their roots. The cracks and snaps continued for quite a while until finally, slowly, mercifully… the Urbanmech managed to stop.
The pair of Light Horse mechs gingerly walked over to inspect the damage and see if they needed to radio for a recovery vehicle.
From out of the furrow carved into the forest, the Urbanmech emerged limping. Apart from some scratches on the paint, the Mech looked none the worse for wear. The uncomplicated shape and form of the Urbanmech meant they were surprisingly sturdy little things.
Barbara approached and slapped the rounded dome top of the Urbanmech with her Large Laser weapon pod.
"What the heck was that?!" she shouted excitedly over comms. "That was amazing! I hope you didn't wreck your motivators doing that, but… damn. If this wasn't on BattleROM no one's ever going to believe this. I'll eat the punishment if necessary, but for me making an Urbie outrun a Phoenix Hawk earns you at least an introduction to our tech division."
"What the hell, no way a trashcan can go over a hundred kilometers per hour!" Jack put in. "How is that even possible?"
"My father said this is some sort of… Super Royal Urbanmech. Its normal running speed is eighty-six kilometers per hour, but it has a Supercharger. It has an Extra Light Engine. It can do all of this and still meaningfully pack in an ER PPC in place of the Autocannon. The UM-SSR was a secret Star League project to create the most optimized militia mech platform ever."
"Fancy! Well you got my interest. I can't say this is enough to get you to join the Light Horse, but it's enough to give you a shot at the training program. I don't know if the General will talk to you, but whatever message you have, we'll be sure to pass it on."
"There are more of this. That's why I need to talk to the Brevet General. My father's dying wish was to hand over the regiment to the only good remaining piece of the SLDF that remains in this universe."
"A regi-... what."
"Hey, kid," said Jack Finsurd. "What's your name?" His voice no longer held any of the boredom from earlier.
Barbara nodded, realizing that they had never asked. "I am, by the way, Barbara Mosley, and this is Jack Finsrud. 6th Recon Company, 21st Strikers Regiment. You are?"
"Oh. I had a different name before but my dad gave me a new one. I'm keeping it. My name's Devlin. Call me Devlin Stone."
--
--
Toss a stone in the pond,
And watch what ripples form
From a drop might great changes erupt
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Last edited:
2.1 The Eggman's Wish
bluepencil
The tropics will be uninhabitable.
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Three full combined-arms regiments were usually a waste to keep on one planet. When the Eridani Light Horse entered into service with House Davion, they were split into battalions and companies to conduct raids on a wide range of Kurita and Liao worlds. With their unmatched speed and expertise at objective raiding, they were often able to convince defenders that a full regiment had landed on the planet and then leave within hours with all objectives completed.
These raids earned the Light Horse substantial bonuses, but in 3022 the Wolf's Dragoons with their five regiments signed onto a six-year contract with House Kurita.
The Light Horse had prior contact with the Dragoons, in 3007 reinforced New Valencia which was at the time the homeworld of the Wolf's Dragoons under siege by McCarron's Armored Cavalry. For the first time three of the most famed mercenary commands in the Inner Sphere were on planet, but House Liao's top mercenary unit decided to disengage and leave the world as soon the Eridani Light Horse touched on planet.
After this, the Light Horse moved to Colchester as they signed up with House Davion. Relations between the Light Horse and the Dragoons were cordial, if with the usual bemusement that the Light Horse experienced when they presented themselves as the SLDF.
But both mercenary commands were professionals, and there were the usual tempo of raids and counter-raids. It was only in 3023 that the two companies met in strength as the Wolf Dragoons's Epsilon Regiment alongside the Combine's 17th Galedon Regulars invaded Hoff to destroy House Davion's research facilities there. Defending the world was the 151st Light Horse (Dark Horse Regiment) and the 7th Battalion of the 21st Strikers Regiment, commanded by Brevet General Nathan Armstrong himself, along with a brigade of the Dahar Draconic March militia.
Armstrong was not the type to mull over defeats, but it was tempting to continually cast his thoughts on almost-victories. On Hoff, the Light Horse had thrown back the Dragoons again and again, and had managed to pocket the Dragoons in Brandt Valley.
Closing his eyes he could still feel himself there, in three straight days of fighting, the Dragoons and the Light Horse struggled without making any headway against each other. He had only been the commander of the entire ELH for a year. Formerly the leader of the 151st, he relied on the Dark Horse Regiment to push through.
In those three days the question of "which truly was the best mercenary unit" in the Inner Sphere was being decided.
He chuckled. But that didn't really matter to them. The Eridani Light Horse were the SLDF, and the SLDF do not break.
But much as he had driven his 50th Calvary into a breach to disarray the Dragoons some days ago, Natasha Kerensky's Black Widow Company managed to turn the flank and the Light Horse had to withdraw from their enclosure of the Dragoons - allowing them to reintegrate their Epsilon Regiment while the Light Horse had to pull back. They might not break, but a sensible withdrawal was another matter entirely. They retreated to dig in around the town of Friden and the Aerospace Park that was the objective of this invasion.
The Light Horse had to hold on until the data and the scientists were evacuated, but they could not hold the Dragoons off forever and eventually had to cede the field. Davion reinforcements arrived soon after and the Kuritan forces also had to withdraw from the planet.
While technically a draw with the Dragoons driven off, the Dragoons landed with more mechs, tilted more towards heavies and assaults, and the Eridani Light Horse's responsive combined arms groupings were left badly depleted in armor and light to medium Mech strength.
Regimental commanders did not stay on their homeworlds. With the Dark Horse regiment mauled but half remaining on Hoff to continue the defense, the Eridani Light horse depended on the intact 71st Light Horse (White Horse Regiment) to fulfill their obligations. Nathan Armstrong had to hand over command of the 151st to Colonel Robert Fairchild, Hoff was his last taste of being able to personally command the Dark Horse.
Which was why, after having lunch with his wife, General Nathan Armstrong was able to scowl at the poor soldier sent to report in.
"Sir! Apologies for the interruption, sir!" the said the command staff sergeant. "There is a sensitive matter that may need your attention, sir."
"At ease, soldier. What is this about?"
"Apologies but I don't know, sir. Colonel Winston requests permission to speak with you at the briefing room, sir."
Armstrong's brows raised. Charles K. Winston commanded the 21st Strikers regiment. While the 121st Dark Horse was the main battle regiment of the Eridani Light Horse and the 151st their flexible defensive regiment, the 21st was their more free-wheeling reserves capable of being slotted into any duty.
Regimental commanders usually did not stay safe and idle at their homeworlds, but Colonel Winston was also the oldest line officer in the entire Light Horse. The 21st cycled from line duty to training, and with the 121st being badly mauled, elements of the 21st were being shuffled to reinforce and replace formations in the regiment.
"Best not to keep the old man waiting," said Julia Armstrong.
"Sir, apologies for interrupting again, sir. But the Colonel also noted that if Chief Julia was with you then this will probably also be of interest to her, sir!"
Julia Armstrong was the chief of the Light Horse's civilian services. There were very few things that would need the attention of both. "This sounds serious. Shall we, Nathan?"
The general nodded. "Tell them we're on our way, sargeant."
---
The SLDF were known for two things - their skill at fighting… and their absurd wizardry at construction. The famed Castles Brian were the most well-known examples of the SLDF's skill at fortifications, able to withstand orbital bombardment and capable of housing regiments of troops to defend a world, but also cleverly hidden with many secret tunnels and sally points.
But like the Roman Legions before them, and the Terran Hegemony Armed Forces, the SLDF never stopped anywhere without throwing up an efficient grid-based bivouac with field fortifications. The Light Horse may have been greatly diminished since they were commanded by General Kerensky, but they never lost the expertise in modular prefabricated structures.
Fort Bradley was not fortified enough to resist BattleMech assault, but just given a stretch of land the Eridani Light Horse was able to flatten it and build an efficient and well-defended camp with airfields and facilities for both military and civilian concerns.
The Brevet General of the Eridani Light Horse lived separately from the command building. He was no President living in some sort of White House where officials had to present briefings in an official function room, nor a Lord that mixed his personal and state affairs. The Eridani Light Horse moved thousands of people year after year through the Inner Sphere, in their centuries of moving from homeworld to homeworld as their men and women fought at the behest of others, they recognized the importance of privacy and allowing each family to hold their own ground no matter how temporary.
Briefings and command decisions were made in a windowless room deep inside the command building. A holotank dominated the room, and affixed wall to wall were all sorts of screens and lights.
Normally dim to maximize clarity of the many information displays, at the moment the room was well-lit.
General Nathan Armstrong entered to see that Colonel Winston waiting there along with a group of other officers. A young teenage boy on a chair hurriedly stood up to attention. He glanced nervously at the juice box in his hands, before hiding it behind his back.
He raised his right hand - apparently having passed the juice box from right to left - only to stop as the officer behind in tapped at his shoulder. "You don't salute indoors," MechWarrior Barbara Mosley whispered.
Julia Armstrong's lips quirked in amusement.
General Armstrong nodded to each of the officers there. Colonel Winston of the 21st, of course. Surprisingly also Major Edward Stimson of the 121st 6th Recon. That was a Dark Horse company, but rotated in for R&R after the heavy combat on Hoff. The officer standing behind the young civilian wore MechWarrior patches belonging to his company.
There was also Major Wendell TeCarr of his Command Nathan and nominally the second-in-command of the Light Horse while on base. And finally, Engineer-in-Chief Eligio Cade of the technical staff, responsible for all technical and dropship operations of the Light Horse.
This was a very top-heavy meeting.
"What is this about?" the general asked.
--
Barbara Mosley reported the events of around 10:50 local time. The approach of an unknown BattleMech. Her potential unprofessional conduct accepting an unorthodox challenge. The results of said challenge. She offered no excuses.
Edward Stimson then reported about how this whole mess was delivered to him, and how he had to decide if the boy's claim had any validity. He had to pull the BattleROM and then had run the Urbanmech run in paces under more Mech guard to be convinced.
Now if there were more of these things, that had yet to be determined. It was up to high command to be convinced by the holorecording that the boy provided.
Engineer-in-Chief Eligio Cade reported "The Mech itself really does have lostech in it. Even the neurohelmet was SLDF grade, not like the buckets we're forced to use now. If there's really more of these, I can't wait to take one part and have a look."
"It's not easy to tell if someone is lying on a holo," said Col. Winston. The wiry old man had a powerful voice that belied his frame. "This could easily be a trap to divide the Light Horse. While we're under the command of House Davion, we also have the attention of their enemies - and House Liao and House Kurita wouldn't hesitate to use dishonorable tricks and traps like this to remove JumpShips from the line. It's almost too good to be true."
The general nodded. "But since you kicked this up to me, what makes you think this is valid?"
"There are two holo-recordings, one for general viewing and the other supposed to be for high command only. I looked at both of them. I know that holomovies can do some astonishing trickery, but with the boy's testimony, there's a high chance of this being real."
The general stared down at the boy.
Devlin Stone met his gaze squarely. It was a placid fearless stare, but not like one might expect from a psychopath. The boy was nervous but not afraid for himself.
"Where is this cache?" Gen. Armstrong asked.
"Dumassas," replied Devlin. "It's a depopulated world near the Taurian Concordat. We lived there."
Gen. Armstrong grimaced.
"This could intensify tensions between House Davion and House Calderon, that bit of inconvenience is what helps me think that this might not be too good to be true," added Col. Winston. "If it was some world out in the Deep Periphery free and clear for the taking, that would sound too much of a trap. But a Militia Mech depot at the border of the Taurian Concordat - that makes too much sense."
Gen. Armstrong grimaced. "We might have to consult with the Davions about this."
"The regiment is for the SLDF, *not* House Davion!" Devlin spoke up. He wrinkled his nose and glared. "Father was most insistent about this. If the SLDF doesn't get it, then the installation might as well be buried forever."
Nathan Armstrong glanced aside to his wife. Julia Armstrong was still staring at the boy. After a while, she nodded.
"I believe him," she said.
"All right. If you all think this might be real, I accept that. But…" the general sighed. "It's Urbanmechs."
Major Stimson, who built this command lance out of fast jump-capable Light Mechs, noted "*Fast* jump-capable ER PPC-carrying Urbanmechs with Double Heatsinks."
While his battalion might not have the punch to decide battles, its speed allowed it to get to wherever they might be needed quickly.
General Armstrong frowned minutely. True, no one would *ever* expect Urbanmechs serving in heavy scout role, but would that be worth diverting Eridani Light Horse aerospace assets away from the Kuritan front for several months?
"I'm going to have to look at those holotapes," he said instead.
--
The holotapes looked almost new and were gene-locked. That helped its veneer of authenticity.
The holotank, once the tapes were inserted, asked for a password.
"Wolverines Forever," spoke Devlin Stone.
The holographic display then emitted an indistinct startup sound that was in between "seega" or "eegman". It coalesced into a spherical logo of a face wearing goggles with a protruding side mustache.
Then the screen cleared up to the face of a man wearing goggles and with a protruding red mustache. His grin was wide and his teeth were big. He looked like some sort of pet detective.
"Yellow? Yellow? Is this thing on? Devlin! Is the camera showing anything?!"
"Yes, father," the boy's voice emitted from the recording.
The view receded to show a tall yet somewhat pudgy bald man wearing a red technician's jacket. He wore thick white gloves which he gestured with grandly. "STUPENDOUSITY. All righty then! If you are able to see this, then you are either the SLDF Eridani Light Horse Regiments and you have my boy with you with his willing participation…
"Or you're not, and I don't know how you decoded this without the 5 kiloton fusion nuclear briefcase handcuffed to his wrist going off."
"Wait what?" asked past-Devlin.
"MOVING ON!
"Seriously, father, I don't think that's wise or would let me pass port security…"
"WELCOME TO SLDF "SEEDCORN" MILITIA BASE SIGMA EPISILON, otherwise known as "STONE EGG!"
He pranced backwards, forcing the view to follow him over to a catwalk. "I AM DOCTOR IVO THE EGGMAN ROBOTNIK! And I present to you… PERFECTION!"
He pointed to over the railings. "Do you see that? The most perfect BattleMech ever devised!"
The view followed to look over the ledge, and there were rows upon rows of Urbanmechs. Behind the Urbanmechs were the distinctive spherical shapes of DropShips. The lights streaming in from above showed that this was a cavernous indoors area.
Robotnik leaned into the camera from the left. "You might be thinking - it's just Urbanmechs! Why are you so excited, Eggman? But that is why YOU WOULD BE WRONG."
Robotnik began pushing buttons on his wrist computer, and the ledge began to descend - it was an elevator all along.
"The SLDF in all their collected wisdom and obsession with logistics and putting secret caches all over the place, decided that at some point they might need to settle new worlds out beyond known space but putting valuable Mechs out there would be taking away from the assets they needed for offensive operations. This SEEDCORN plan had two divided commands - the main military one, and the civilian/militia one.
"This facility was shut down and hidden as concerns turned away from Taurian front and towards the Rim Worlds.
"Now, presumably, the military section decided to leave with General Kerensky. But the militia section was left behind, because Urbanmechs were… okay, they're Urbanmechs. No one cares about Urbanmechs. Even if someone might have seen them on the list, even the SLDF thought that it was not relevant to their exile. There was no point in going all the way out here to reactivate them."
With a click and a clang, the elevator reached the bottom. Now that they were at the ground floor, the camera could fully take in just how huge was this underground space.
"But these - were not your regular Urbanmech. Not your regular Urbanmech, boy!"
The screen followed Robotnik as they got into a small rover and drove to the line of inactive Mechs.
Robotnik reached down to a sack on the rover and began pelting each Mech he passed with an egg-shaped paint ball.
"These - are" throw "Super Urbanmech!" throw "UB-SSR" throw "the ultimate" throw "in militia Mech" throw "performance!"
After about twenty four throws he ran out of eggs. "Someone designed the UB-SSR to let even the dumbest-as-bricks random militia pilot have a chance against real MechWarriors."
Robotnik stopped the rover and leaped out. The screen followed him as he stopped and leaned against an Urbanmech's broad trunk-like leg.
"The UB-SSR - the SLDF SUPER URBANMECH has a one hundred fifty-rated XL Fusion Engine, enough to push it to eighty-six kph before even engaging its Supercharger, but weighing only a meager three tons!
"Its structure is Standard endofoam, which does not need special orbital facilities to construct like Endo Steel, but the armor is Ferro-Fibrous which allows it to possess the maximum amount of protection possible for its tonnage.
"In place of an Autocannon with limited shots, it carries instead a Extended Range Particle Projection Cannon which has an effective range equivalent to that of a Gauss Rifle, but with its more refined construction does without the minimum range that afflicts our current PPCs.
"For short-range combat, instead of a measly Small Laser, it carries a Medium Pulse Laser in the other arm.
"It has the same double Jump Jets as you would expect from an Urbanmech, giving it a jump range of sixty meters.
"It has a Guardian ECM suite to allow it to break targeting locks and waddle into its enemy's blind spots.
"To keep this whole thing cool, it packs Double HeatSinks, sufficient to remove all buildup heat from maximum to nominal within five seconds - or that is to say, it runs completely heat-neutral even with alpha striking all day.
"It's small, it's fast, it can jump, it's surprisingly durable, and will never run out of ammo! Yes! Do not underestimate the smallest Assault Mech disguised as a trash can! GYAHAHAHAHAHA!"
"It's still just a Light Mech though," said past-Devlin. "Perfect might be pushing it. Maybe... idiot proof?"
"That's why it's called Trash CAN, not Trash CANNOT, HWE WE WE WEH!"
Robotnik beckoned to get back to the rover.
"Unfortunately the Amaris Coup happened before the SLDF facility I found could do more than just field test it out in the Periphery, but their loss is our gain. If it was just having more Mechs, then it's fine for our culture of scarcity here in the Succession Wars. A regiment of Urbies aren't anything noteworthy even with that. But there's something here that I can trust only the SLDF with."
He turned to the camera and grinned. "This is the first of two recordings. Boy, I want to hear some discussion first about whether this thing is valid and how they might use this to fit their operations.
"I won't be alive to hear them, but ah- to hear the SLDF speak on combat operations. If only I could be there instead. Listen carefully boy.
He pointed towards the potential viewers "And you! Well, if I'm going to be giving you this regiment anyway, the least you can do is to offer my boy an education!
"Instead of your usual Locusts! Your Wasps, your Stingers, your bugmechs! You have a machine that might not be as fast, but it has ECM. It's the firepower of a Medium like the Vindicator in a thing only half the size! With an ER PPC, you can plug away at fire support mechs at the same LRM ranges. It's modifiable, there's enough spare parts here - as long as it's an all-energy armanent. Would you use it for scouts? For defense? To support your medium combat groups? HAHAHA!
"Who knows? Who knows?! Only the SLDF can I trust to do this *correctly* instead of spreading it out to their little planetary commands!
"Boy! Don't play the second recording yet! Give them time! If they can't theorycraft having over a hundred extra jump-mechs in their roster, they're not the SLDF!"
---
Super Urbanmech R1 UM-SSR-R1
Base Tech Level: Experimental (IS)
Tech Rating: E/X-X-F-D
Weight: 30 tons
BV: 1,068
Cost: 5,822,700 C-bills
Source: Meme
Movement: 5/8(10)/2
Engine: 150 XL
Double Heat Sinks: 11 [22]
Gyro: Standard Gyro
Internal: 51
Armor: 105/105 (Ferro-Fibrous)
These raids earned the Light Horse substantial bonuses, but in 3022 the Wolf's Dragoons with their five regiments signed onto a six-year contract with House Kurita.
The Light Horse had prior contact with the Dragoons, in 3007 reinforced New Valencia which was at the time the homeworld of the Wolf's Dragoons under siege by McCarron's Armored Cavalry. For the first time three of the most famed mercenary commands in the Inner Sphere were on planet, but House Liao's top mercenary unit decided to disengage and leave the world as soon the Eridani Light Horse touched on planet.
After this, the Light Horse moved to Colchester as they signed up with House Davion. Relations between the Light Horse and the Dragoons were cordial, if with the usual bemusement that the Light Horse experienced when they presented themselves as the SLDF.
But both mercenary commands were professionals, and there were the usual tempo of raids and counter-raids. It was only in 3023 that the two companies met in strength as the Wolf Dragoons's Epsilon Regiment alongside the Combine's 17th Galedon Regulars invaded Hoff to destroy House Davion's research facilities there. Defending the world was the 151st Light Horse (Dark Horse Regiment) and the 7th Battalion of the 21st Strikers Regiment, commanded by Brevet General Nathan Armstrong himself, along with a brigade of the Dahar Draconic March militia.
Armstrong was not the type to mull over defeats, but it was tempting to continually cast his thoughts on almost-victories. On Hoff, the Light Horse had thrown back the Dragoons again and again, and had managed to pocket the Dragoons in Brandt Valley.
Closing his eyes he could still feel himself there, in three straight days of fighting, the Dragoons and the Light Horse struggled without making any headway against each other. He had only been the commander of the entire ELH for a year. Formerly the leader of the 151st, he relied on the Dark Horse Regiment to push through.
In those three days the question of "which truly was the best mercenary unit" in the Inner Sphere was being decided.
He chuckled. But that didn't really matter to them. The Eridani Light Horse were the SLDF, and the SLDF do not break.
But much as he had driven his 50th Calvary into a breach to disarray the Dragoons some days ago, Natasha Kerensky's Black Widow Company managed to turn the flank and the Light Horse had to withdraw from their enclosure of the Dragoons - allowing them to reintegrate their Epsilon Regiment while the Light Horse had to pull back. They might not break, but a sensible withdrawal was another matter entirely. They retreated to dig in around the town of Friden and the Aerospace Park that was the objective of this invasion.
The Light Horse had to hold on until the data and the scientists were evacuated, but they could not hold the Dragoons off forever and eventually had to cede the field. Davion reinforcements arrived soon after and the Kuritan forces also had to withdraw from the planet.
While technically a draw with the Dragoons driven off, the Dragoons landed with more mechs, tilted more towards heavies and assaults, and the Eridani Light Horse's responsive combined arms groupings were left badly depleted in armor and light to medium Mech strength.
Regimental commanders did not stay on their homeworlds. With the Dark Horse regiment mauled but half remaining on Hoff to continue the defense, the Eridani Light horse depended on the intact 71st Light Horse (White Horse Regiment) to fulfill their obligations. Nathan Armstrong had to hand over command of the 151st to Colonel Robert Fairchild, Hoff was his last taste of being able to personally command the Dark Horse.
Which was why, after having lunch with his wife, General Nathan Armstrong was able to scowl at the poor soldier sent to report in.
"Sir! Apologies for the interruption, sir!" the said the command staff sergeant. "There is a sensitive matter that may need your attention, sir."
"At ease, soldier. What is this about?"
"Apologies but I don't know, sir. Colonel Winston requests permission to speak with you at the briefing room, sir."
Armstrong's brows raised. Charles K. Winston commanded the 21st Strikers regiment. While the 121st Dark Horse was the main battle regiment of the Eridani Light Horse and the 151st their flexible defensive regiment, the 21st was their more free-wheeling reserves capable of being slotted into any duty.
Regimental commanders usually did not stay safe and idle at their homeworlds, but Colonel Winston was also the oldest line officer in the entire Light Horse. The 21st cycled from line duty to training, and with the 121st being badly mauled, elements of the 21st were being shuffled to reinforce and replace formations in the regiment.
"Best not to keep the old man waiting," said Julia Armstrong.
"Sir, apologies for interrupting again, sir. But the Colonel also noted that if Chief Julia was with you then this will probably also be of interest to her, sir!"
Julia Armstrong was the chief of the Light Horse's civilian services. There were very few things that would need the attention of both. "This sounds serious. Shall we, Nathan?"
The general nodded. "Tell them we're on our way, sargeant."
---
The SLDF were known for two things - their skill at fighting… and their absurd wizardry at construction. The famed Castles Brian were the most well-known examples of the SLDF's skill at fortifications, able to withstand orbital bombardment and capable of housing regiments of troops to defend a world, but also cleverly hidden with many secret tunnels and sally points.
But like the Roman Legions before them, and the Terran Hegemony Armed Forces, the SLDF never stopped anywhere without throwing up an efficient grid-based bivouac with field fortifications. The Light Horse may have been greatly diminished since they were commanded by General Kerensky, but they never lost the expertise in modular prefabricated structures.
Fort Bradley was not fortified enough to resist BattleMech assault, but just given a stretch of land the Eridani Light Horse was able to flatten it and build an efficient and well-defended camp with airfields and facilities for both military and civilian concerns.
The Brevet General of the Eridani Light Horse lived separately from the command building. He was no President living in some sort of White House where officials had to present briefings in an official function room, nor a Lord that mixed his personal and state affairs. The Eridani Light Horse moved thousands of people year after year through the Inner Sphere, in their centuries of moving from homeworld to homeworld as their men and women fought at the behest of others, they recognized the importance of privacy and allowing each family to hold their own ground no matter how temporary.
Briefings and command decisions were made in a windowless room deep inside the command building. A holotank dominated the room, and affixed wall to wall were all sorts of screens and lights.
Normally dim to maximize clarity of the many information displays, at the moment the room was well-lit.
General Nathan Armstrong entered to see that Colonel Winston waiting there along with a group of other officers. A young teenage boy on a chair hurriedly stood up to attention. He glanced nervously at the juice box in his hands, before hiding it behind his back.
He raised his right hand - apparently having passed the juice box from right to left - only to stop as the officer behind in tapped at his shoulder. "You don't salute indoors," MechWarrior Barbara Mosley whispered.
Julia Armstrong's lips quirked in amusement.
General Armstrong nodded to each of the officers there. Colonel Winston of the 21st, of course. Surprisingly also Major Edward Stimson of the 121st 6th Recon. That was a Dark Horse company, but rotated in for R&R after the heavy combat on Hoff. The officer standing behind the young civilian wore MechWarrior patches belonging to his company.
There was also Major Wendell TeCarr of his Command Nathan and nominally the second-in-command of the Light Horse while on base. And finally, Engineer-in-Chief Eligio Cade of the technical staff, responsible for all technical and dropship operations of the Light Horse.
This was a very top-heavy meeting.
"What is this about?" the general asked.
--
Barbara Mosley reported the events of around 10:50 local time. The approach of an unknown BattleMech. Her potential unprofessional conduct accepting an unorthodox challenge. The results of said challenge. She offered no excuses.
Edward Stimson then reported about how this whole mess was delivered to him, and how he had to decide if the boy's claim had any validity. He had to pull the BattleROM and then had run the Urbanmech run in paces under more Mech guard to be convinced.
Now if there were more of these things, that had yet to be determined. It was up to high command to be convinced by the holorecording that the boy provided.
Engineer-in-Chief Eligio Cade reported "The Mech itself really does have lostech in it. Even the neurohelmet was SLDF grade, not like the buckets we're forced to use now. If there's really more of these, I can't wait to take one part and have a look."
"It's not easy to tell if someone is lying on a holo," said Col. Winston. The wiry old man had a powerful voice that belied his frame. "This could easily be a trap to divide the Light Horse. While we're under the command of House Davion, we also have the attention of their enemies - and House Liao and House Kurita wouldn't hesitate to use dishonorable tricks and traps like this to remove JumpShips from the line. It's almost too good to be true."
The general nodded. "But since you kicked this up to me, what makes you think this is valid?"
"There are two holo-recordings, one for general viewing and the other supposed to be for high command only. I looked at both of them. I know that holomovies can do some astonishing trickery, but with the boy's testimony, there's a high chance of this being real."
The general stared down at the boy.
Devlin Stone met his gaze squarely. It was a placid fearless stare, but not like one might expect from a psychopath. The boy was nervous but not afraid for himself.
"Where is this cache?" Gen. Armstrong asked.
"Dumassas," replied Devlin. "It's a depopulated world near the Taurian Concordat. We lived there."
Gen. Armstrong grimaced.
"This could intensify tensions between House Davion and House Calderon, that bit of inconvenience is what helps me think that this might not be too good to be true," added Col. Winston. "If it was some world out in the Deep Periphery free and clear for the taking, that would sound too much of a trap. But a Militia Mech depot at the border of the Taurian Concordat - that makes too much sense."
Gen. Armstrong grimaced. "We might have to consult with the Davions about this."
"The regiment is for the SLDF, *not* House Davion!" Devlin spoke up. He wrinkled his nose and glared. "Father was most insistent about this. If the SLDF doesn't get it, then the installation might as well be buried forever."
Nathan Armstrong glanced aside to his wife. Julia Armstrong was still staring at the boy. After a while, she nodded.
"I believe him," she said.
"All right. If you all think this might be real, I accept that. But…" the general sighed. "It's Urbanmechs."
Major Stimson, who built this command lance out of fast jump-capable Light Mechs, noted "*Fast* jump-capable ER PPC-carrying Urbanmechs with Double Heatsinks."
While his battalion might not have the punch to decide battles, its speed allowed it to get to wherever they might be needed quickly.
General Armstrong frowned minutely. True, no one would *ever* expect Urbanmechs serving in heavy scout role, but would that be worth diverting Eridani Light Horse aerospace assets away from the Kuritan front for several months?
"I'm going to have to look at those holotapes," he said instead.
--
The holotapes looked almost new and were gene-locked. That helped its veneer of authenticity.
The holotank, once the tapes were inserted, asked for a password.
"Wolverines Forever," spoke Devlin Stone.
The holographic display then emitted an indistinct startup sound that was in between "seega" or "eegman". It coalesced into a spherical logo of a face wearing goggles with a protruding side mustache.
Then the screen cleared up to the face of a man wearing goggles and with a protruding red mustache. His grin was wide and his teeth were big. He looked like some sort of pet detective.
"Yellow? Yellow? Is this thing on? Devlin! Is the camera showing anything?!"
"Yes, father," the boy's voice emitted from the recording.
The view receded to show a tall yet somewhat pudgy bald man wearing a red technician's jacket. He wore thick white gloves which he gestured with grandly. "STUPENDOUSITY. All righty then! If you are able to see this, then you are either the SLDF Eridani Light Horse Regiments and you have my boy with you with his willing participation…
"Or you're not, and I don't know how you decoded this without the 5 kiloton fusion nuclear briefcase handcuffed to his wrist going off."
"Wait what?" asked past-Devlin.
"MOVING ON!
"Seriously, father, I don't think that's wise or would let me pass port security…"
"WELCOME TO SLDF "SEEDCORN" MILITIA BASE SIGMA EPISILON, otherwise known as "STONE EGG!"
He pranced backwards, forcing the view to follow him over to a catwalk. "I AM DOCTOR IVO THE EGGMAN ROBOTNIK! And I present to you… PERFECTION!"
He pointed to over the railings. "Do you see that? The most perfect BattleMech ever devised!"
The view followed to look over the ledge, and there were rows upon rows of Urbanmechs. Behind the Urbanmechs were the distinctive spherical shapes of DropShips. The lights streaming in from above showed that this was a cavernous indoors area.
Robotnik leaned into the camera from the left. "You might be thinking - it's just Urbanmechs! Why are you so excited, Eggman? But that is why YOU WOULD BE WRONG."
Robotnik began pushing buttons on his wrist computer, and the ledge began to descend - it was an elevator all along.
"The SLDF in all their collected wisdom and obsession with logistics and putting secret caches all over the place, decided that at some point they might need to settle new worlds out beyond known space but putting valuable Mechs out there would be taking away from the assets they needed for offensive operations. This SEEDCORN plan had two divided commands - the main military one, and the civilian/militia one.
"This facility was shut down and hidden as concerns turned away from Taurian front and towards the Rim Worlds.
"Now, presumably, the military section decided to leave with General Kerensky. But the militia section was left behind, because Urbanmechs were… okay, they're Urbanmechs. No one cares about Urbanmechs. Even if someone might have seen them on the list, even the SLDF thought that it was not relevant to their exile. There was no point in going all the way out here to reactivate them."
With a click and a clang, the elevator reached the bottom. Now that they were at the ground floor, the camera could fully take in just how huge was this underground space.
"But these - were not your regular Urbanmech. Not your regular Urbanmech, boy!"
The screen followed Robotnik as they got into a small rover and drove to the line of inactive Mechs.
Robotnik reached down to a sack on the rover and began pelting each Mech he passed with an egg-shaped paint ball.
"These - are" throw "Super Urbanmech!" throw "UB-SSR" throw "the ultimate" throw "in militia Mech" throw "performance!"
After about twenty four throws he ran out of eggs. "Someone designed the UB-SSR to let even the dumbest-as-bricks random militia pilot have a chance against real MechWarriors."
Robotnik stopped the rover and leaped out. The screen followed him as he stopped and leaned against an Urbanmech's broad trunk-like leg.
"The UB-SSR - the SLDF SUPER URBANMECH has a one hundred fifty-rated XL Fusion Engine, enough to push it to eighty-six kph before even engaging its Supercharger, but weighing only a meager three tons!
"Its structure is Standard endofoam, which does not need special orbital facilities to construct like Endo Steel, but the armor is Ferro-Fibrous which allows it to possess the maximum amount of protection possible for its tonnage.
"In place of an Autocannon with limited shots, it carries instead a Extended Range Particle Projection Cannon which has an effective range equivalent to that of a Gauss Rifle, but with its more refined construction does without the minimum range that afflicts our current PPCs.
"For short-range combat, instead of a measly Small Laser, it carries a Medium Pulse Laser in the other arm.
"It has the same double Jump Jets as you would expect from an Urbanmech, giving it a jump range of sixty meters.
"It has a Guardian ECM suite to allow it to break targeting locks and waddle into its enemy's blind spots.
"To keep this whole thing cool, it packs Double HeatSinks, sufficient to remove all buildup heat from maximum to nominal within five seconds - or that is to say, it runs completely heat-neutral even with alpha striking all day.
"It's small, it's fast, it can jump, it's surprisingly durable, and will never run out of ammo! Yes! Do not underestimate the smallest Assault Mech disguised as a trash can! GYAHAHAHAHAHA!"
"It's still just a Light Mech though," said past-Devlin. "Perfect might be pushing it. Maybe... idiot proof?"
"That's why it's called Trash CAN, not Trash CANNOT, HWE WE WE WEH!"
Robotnik beckoned to get back to the rover.
"Unfortunately the Amaris Coup happened before the SLDF facility I found could do more than just field test it out in the Periphery, but their loss is our gain. If it was just having more Mechs, then it's fine for our culture of scarcity here in the Succession Wars. A regiment of Urbies aren't anything noteworthy even with that. But there's something here that I can trust only the SLDF with."
He turned to the camera and grinned. "This is the first of two recordings. Boy, I want to hear some discussion first about whether this thing is valid and how they might use this to fit their operations.
"I won't be alive to hear them, but ah- to hear the SLDF speak on combat operations. If only I could be there instead. Listen carefully boy.
He pointed towards the potential viewers "And you! Well, if I'm going to be giving you this regiment anyway, the least you can do is to offer my boy an education!
"Instead of your usual Locusts! Your Wasps, your Stingers, your bugmechs! You have a machine that might not be as fast, but it has ECM. It's the firepower of a Medium like the Vindicator in a thing only half the size! With an ER PPC, you can plug away at fire support mechs at the same LRM ranges. It's modifiable, there's enough spare parts here - as long as it's an all-energy armanent. Would you use it for scouts? For defense? To support your medium combat groups? HAHAHA!
"Who knows? Who knows?! Only the SLDF can I trust to do this *correctly* instead of spreading it out to their little planetary commands!
"Boy! Don't play the second recording yet! Give them time! If they can't theorycraft having over a hundred extra jump-mechs in their roster, they're not the SLDF!"
---
Super Urbanmech R1 UM-SSR-R1
Base Tech Level: Experimental (IS)
Tech Rating: E/X-X-F-D
Weight: 30 tons
BV: 1,068
Cost: 5,822,700 C-bills
Source: Meme
Movement: 5/8(10)/2
Engine: 150 XL
Double Heat Sinks: 11 [22]
Gyro: Standard Gyro
Internal: 51
Armor: 105/105 (Ferro-Fibrous)
| Internal | Armor | |||
|---|---|---|---|---|
| Head | 3 | 9 | ||
| Center Torso | 10 | 15 | ||
| Center Torso (rear) | 5 | |||
| Right Torso | 7 | 11 | ||
| Right Torso (rear) | 3 | |||
| Left Torso | 7 | 11 | ||
| Left Torso (rear) | 3 | |||
| Right Arm | 5 | 10 | ||
| Left Arm | 5 | 10 | ||
| Right Leg | 7 | 14 | ||
| Left Leg | 7 | 14 |
| Weapons | Loc | Heat | |
|---|---|---|---|
| ER PPC | RA | 15 | |
| Medium Pulse Laser | LA | 4 |
| Equipment | Loc | |
|---|---|---|
| ECM Suite (Guardian) | RT | |
| Supercharger | CT |
Last edited:
2.2 The Eggman's Wish
bluepencil
The tropics will be uninhabitable.
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--
Silence brooked in the briefing room for a few moments. The holo once again went into a holding image of a spinning sphere with a spiky mustache.
Nathan Armstrong wondered if he should be insulted by a dead man ordering him to do things, but then again it was just a holo and if he really was already dead then it was nothing but a little time to respect the man's memory. Someone that loved the SLDF so much that his first thought was to give this cache to the Eridani Light Horse instead of profiting much by offering it to the House Lords. They were already kin, in a way.
This was lostech.
Everyone by instinct looked towards the Chief Engineer. Eligio Cade's lips turned downwards and rolled his shoulders in an expansive shrug.
He looked towards the boy and said "No offense meant… but it's still a bunch of Urbanmechs. I don't mean any insult but I think I could make better use of the parts. ER PPCs and Double Heatsinks are all well and good, but in a Warhammer they would do better."
The general nodded. "Like Hoff, you mean?"
"Aye, sir. The Dragoons didn't expect us to last so long with the experimental DHS we managed to refit into our Mechs just in time. There's three ways ways to use DHS… do it like the SLDF and use it mount more weapons, extended-range weapons, or just be able to fire the same weapons for longer."
Col. Winston looked towards Devlin and explained with a booming lecturing tone that BattleMech combat was considered in various range brackets - short range, medium range, long range. Very few Mechs were capable of sustaining an alpha strike - firing off all weapons at the same time for potentially great punishing effect.
"The Warhammer was mentioned - and it's a good example of how this works. It doesn't have nearly enough heatsinks to fire off all its weapons at once. That's not a problem because its weapons can't be used to hit all at once. It only has enough heatsinks to maintain firing off both PPCs at long range."
He extended both hands with palms facing inwards, one closer to the other. "Then as the distance closes to Medium Range, that's when the Warhammer gets to fire its pair of Medium Lasers and SRM-sixes."
He moved the furthest hand inwards to line up with the other. "It has more than enough to keep firing those medium range weapons, but to keep using PPCs you need to use alternate fire to manage heat buildup." The aged MechWarrior alternately moved each palm up and down. "Left. Right. Strike with the left PPC, attempt to widen and exploit armor breaches with the torso mounted weapons, then strike again with the right arm PPC if it wasn't enough. Then you start cyling in reverse - left, center, right, center, left, center, right. A lot of MechWarriors prefer to use bracket fire trying to fire both PPCs at once then all the Medium range weapons for greater up-front damage, but this is the sustained fire discipline that clears battlefields quickly."
Then he pulled both hands even further back to his chest. "Then at short range where the field inhibitors keep PPC from functioning well or else it damages itself, the Warhammer adds the pair of MachineGuns and Small Lasers to the fight. Usually these are meant against infantry, but at that range if you've been making your shots properly then these can seriously mess up your opponent's internals. Even if the PPCs aren't usable, all these medium and short-range weapons don't produce much heat and cycle very quickly.
"The most valuable thing in battle is time, and every bit of armor lost from your target is a weakness that other supporting elements can exploit. The SLDF isn't in the business of making one on one BattleMech honor duels."
Col. Winston dropped his hands and then gave the boy a placid 'do you understand?' look.
Devlin Stone nodded. "Thank you." He raised a finger and then said "But… doesn't that mean that a Warhammer doesn't really *need* Double Heatsinks?"
Major Edward Stimson stifled an amused snort. He chuckled and scratched at the back of his head. "Well, the kid's right. Look, if you don't want it, I'll take it. I'll take every Super Urbie you can get. Light Mechs don't have the firepower to even fight each other, most times. What makes the Draconis Panther so dangerous it that they can pack in a PPC in the smallest cheapest Mech they can make and then just throw them out there in lots. It might not be fast, but damn it makes other Light Mechs break out in hives.
"Scouting is important, and Light Mech hunters being able to kill off enemy scouts and vehicles quickly can turn the tide of battle before even Mediums or Heavies get into range. This Super Urbanmech is like it's designed as a hunter-killer of Light Mechs and smaller Mediums. Give it to me and I can clear whole lances."
Chief Engr. Cade rubbed at his chin. "Well the ER PPC not having that minimum range problem is more relevant to running light mech combat. They usually have short-range weapons and can close in very quickly. The speed to chase down Light Mechs isn't that important when they *need* to close in to inflict any damage, and a PPC blasts out the same amount of armor as an AC/10 would but across all ranges. Light Mechs know that AC/10s have limited ammo and would try to use their speed to waste shots. Things that can't dodge really hate Urbanmechs, but a Locust or a Wasp would just play with them."
"It's a trash can, but there are a lot of bugmechs," Stimson replied with a grin. "It's a trap."
"Well. Eventually that would stop working if you field enough Super Urbanmechs into battle, but then… they would just start fearing Urbies." The Chief Engineer chuckled darkly. "I suppose I can see the appeal too. But lostech is hard to repair and support, and it's really a shame to lose them. Urbanmechs are tough little bastards, but they're still just Light Mechs."
Barbara Mosley grimaced. Gen. Armstrong noticed and said "Anything to say, MechWarrior?"
"Well, sir… isn't that what they're for? Yeah lostech is valuable and all, but if they're not used then they don't matter at all. Lostech makes something hit harder than it should, and if we hold it back too much in fear that we'd lose them then why bother putting them on war machines in the first place?"
"That *is* the paradox of lostech," said Gen. Winston. "Too powerful to ignore but too irreplaceable to risk. There *are* greater gains in performance on an optimized smaller chassis than incrementally improving the capabilities of a heavier chassis. If we downgrade a Super Urbanmech into an Urbanmech we would just end up with a whole lot of Mechs that don't serve any particular function well."
The Chief Engineer looked towards General Armstrong "If you decide to take them up on this sir, well there's like dozens of them. There's no harm in keeping most of them intact and then stripping out the rest into second-line units to beef up line battalions."
"Ah. On that note, sir-" said Gen. Winston as he turned towards the Eridani Light Horse's leader "What are your thoughts on how best to use a potential regiment of fast PPC-carrying Urbanmechs?"
Nathan Armstrong stared back, carrying the weight of their expectations for a few moments, then his face broke out into an indulgent smile. "I get it. Lostech is amazing. We fought on Hoff because House Kurita was willing to deliver whole regiments just to seize or destroy House Davion's attempt at making lostech available again. Oh yes, a regiment of Urbanmechs would be really unpleasant surprise to our enemies."
Then he smirked. "But do you know? A regiment is still a regiment. It doesn't matter what it is, just having that will strengthen the Light Horse. We can't use this to rebuild the 19th, for example -" referring to the famed lost regiment of the Eridani Light Horse whose memory they still respected in rituals of remembrance "But it can plug gaps in any line. Even if it was just a regular Urbanmech… do you think artillery support lances need speed? The SLDF was always concerned with logistics, I don't know why no one before tried to replace the AC-ten with a PPC."
"Huh. That's right," mused Chief Engr. Cade. "If the Combine could turn Catapults from LRMs Mechs into CAT-K-Twos with two PPCs where the LRM boxes should be, a PPC in place of an AC-10 makes too much sense. That Autocannon is *twelve tons*. A PPC is *seven*. That's still enough for heatsinks and brace of Medium Lasers for minimum range…"
Gen. Armstrong continued "Think about it. Anything we would send a Galleon light tank right now, we could send a Super Urbanmech instead."
"Well the problem is transport, innit sir?" replied the engineer. "You could bring two tanks in the place of a single Mech. Sometimes it's worth being in two places at once aaaand I just remembered that it's a regiment. This bloody thing is worth taking along if we're thinking of carrying a Locust or a Stinger anywhere anyway."
Major Stimson laughed darkly. "I wouldn't give up my Mech just yet - arms are useful in balancing Jump Mechs, but for a PPC in something half the size and just as fast as a Griffin? I'm seriously tempted, general."
"Drop Capacity has always been the main limiting factor in warfare. We would be leaving behind Mechs… or would we?" Col. Winston's eyes widened. "I remember seeing *DropShips* in that holo."
Julia Armstrong let out a surprised hiss. Even a civilian - or specially because she was a civilian - she recognized the importance of that immediately. The Eridani Light Horse owned JumpShips, but lacked DropShips that didn't serve a military function. When moving homeworlds, they usually had to factor into negotiations with their employers chartering their civilian DropShips to move their dependents and supporting assets.
General Armstrong's brows tightened as he considered the implications. The Light Horse inherited from the SLDF XI Corps a group of 3 Monoliths, 3 Star Lords, and 6 Invader-class JumpShips.
All together that was (9 x 3), (6 x 3), and (3 x 6); 63 DropShip collars! It was a very powerful interstellar force. The Light Horse only had 22 DropShips in total to place onto those collars, and part of why the Light Horse was so respected as a fighting force was that their employers could also count on their excess JumpShip capacity to carry along their own regiments without removing their own JumpShips from service.
"That sure sounds a lot more important than just a regiment of Urbies!" Chief Engr. Cade wheezed. He turned to Devlin Stone. "How many of them are there? Enough to transport the whole bloody regiment?"
Colonel Winston shook his head and began to chuckle. "This is starting to veer towards sounding too good to be true again."
General Armstrong turned towards the boy as well. "Is this enough?" he asked. "I believe we should see that second holo now."
Devlin winced, but nodded.
He took out another holotape, but this one was a bit fatter and longer, it would protrude out of the slot.
--
--
The view showed Dr. Ivo Robotnik now more gaunt and his goggles seeming into sink into his eye sockets. His grin remained wide, but his voice could no longer be so loud.
"Message begins. I am DOCTOR Ivo Robotnik, and if you are watching this you are either my son or the SLDF or both watching this at the same time.
"First message. Son, if you are watching this, I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I can't be there for you anymore, and I'm sorry that I had to send you out in advance, and that this would be the last image of me you would ever see. That's fine. I never intended for you to watch me die anyway. This series should have most of what you need to convince the SLDF to come here and take this whole mess out of my hands.
"ANYHOOS. In which case, I have been recording this in a series of topical videoohs. So if there's something you need to know, you got to give me the keywords. Just google it. Google it." Robotnik began to dance on his seat "Just google it."
Devlin clenched his hands into fists and stared at the image stiffly.
On the screen, Dr. Ivo Robotnik began to turn his chair around, around and around, with his arms outstretched as if in childish glee. The image looped smoothly, as if forever the man would always be spinning with that endless manic energy and never becoming dizzy.
Devlin took a deep breath and said "Father. Keyword, SLDF Super Urbanmech, keyword Regiment."
The holo flickered and responded:
"When I say a regiment, I don't just mean a number of BattleMechs. I mean the whole kit and kaboodle. I mean support craft. I mean supplies. I mean SLDF gear. I mean DropShips. I mean everything that makes a SLDF Regiment a regiment. This base is too far from anything to be useful as a staging area… but this secret Port Castle includes modified DropShips designed specifically to carry these Super Urbanmechs."
"Father, SLDF DropShip, keyword, modified Dropship."
"You have your Union DropShips, and your Confederate DropShips, and your Overlord DropShips. But what you're forgetting is what they're derived *from*."
Robotnik messed around with some buttons on his command panel, and the view changed to that of an egg-shaped DropShip.
"This is the Dictator-class DropShip, developed for the SLDF to deliver a full battalion of Mechs. That's a lot of baskets in one egg. At nine thousand tons it's the capacity of three Unions. It's a cut-rate Overlord without the organic ASF support. So you might wonder, why wouldn't the SLDF bring along a DropShip… several very valuable DropShips each capable of carrying thirty-six mechs each?!"
The view changed back to Robotnik's madly grinning visage. "But here's the thing! Because these are designed to carry Urbanmechs, which are compact little walking pods, their 150-ton Mech Bays have been designed to carry TWO of them. One on top of each other, both Mechs able to be serviced at the same time on stacked gantries."
"So while normally you would expect a twelve-unit Mech Bay to carry twelve Mechs, these ships carry *twenty-four*! Instead of the maximum seventy-two Mechs in one ship, it carries only fourty-eight. Why? Because it's a modified Dictator, so the third bay is instead a Vehicle Bay.
"It's not for Combined Arms. It's for support vehicles. Those are twelve Heavy Vehicle Bays, and while they could carry and repair and refit tanks and such they're mostly designed for trucks and tankers and mobile fusion plants, and those twelve repair and refit bays are designed to be taken out and turned into vehicle maintenance works once landed.
"The rest of it is weapons, heatsinks - single only - this is apparently old Terran Hegemony vintage, engines et cetera, and a thousand or so tons of cargo. Once the Vehicle Bays have been stripped out, that frees up anywhere from six hundred to one thousand tons for cargo or cabins.
"I'm calling these half-military, half-civilian ships the Bigwig-class. You will note that unlike Overlords and Unions they *don't have* ASF bays. The military half of PROJECT SEEDCORN wanted to maintain absolute monopoly on space operations."
Robotnik pointed to the camera. "And THAT is why the SLDF left them behind. It would have taken far too long to refit the ships to remove Mech Bays that would fit anything other than Urbanmechs or any other Mech that's smaller. They abandoned and buried the site so as not to waste all that effort, but it would have been such a pain in the ass and a waste of valuable drop collars to carry them when they had real Overlords on hand."
"... Ssss!," Chief Engr. Cade sucked in air through his teeth. "We have five Overlords, and they carry thirty-six Mechs. Okay, so the SLDF made ships that can carry Super Urbanmechs and *only* Super Urbanmechs… because why the hell not."
Col. Winson chuckled. "Yeees, I respect our founders, but this is the sort of technologically overcomplicated boondoggle they would pull in the name of saving for logistics. Who cares about expensive solutions as long as it makes the problem go away in a hurry? Up front costs don't matter at all for the Star League."
"A regiment of Urbies divided into forty-eight…" Major Stimson frowned and turned his eyes up. "How many is that?"
Julia Armstrong was first to respond: "Assuming three battalions to a regiment, one hundred eight. That's two and a quarter ships, it doesn't fit neatly."
"A square battalion is fourty-eight mechs in four companies," said Gen. Armstrong. "So I would assume at least three Dicta…" He stopped and sighed. "Bigwigs. Three Bigwig DropShips."
Devlin beamed at the general using that name. Julia Armstrong held back an adoring 'awww'.
"Father, keyword Bigwigs, how many dropships are there in the facility?"
Robotnik responded:
"There are SEVEN DropShips in this facility. Since you are watching this second set of holos, I'm going to admit I lied. There isn't a regiment of Super Urbanmechs. There are two."
"Huh. I don't know what I expected, but it was not this." Col. Winston leaned back, wide-eyed.
"Seven dropships! Who cares about Urbanmechs - seven pristine SLDF DropShips?! Seven thousand tons of cargo, eighty-four vehicle capacity that can fit even artillery! If we just load it all up with light mechs, just one of them is a complete combined arms battalion in can. That's too much!" the Chief Engineer wheezed.
"A trash can," said Major Stimson said with a 'heh heh heh'.
"That's why it's a trash can, and not a trash cannot," Major Winston repeated with a wrinkled grin.
"This really does sound too good to be true. Why would he really give up all of this? If your father had just shown this to any other House it would have made him a very wealthy and important man," General Amstrong said to Devlin. "Although… I suppose a man that was going to die of radiation poisoning anyway doesn't care much for gains - but what about you? This could have given you a very comfortable life, how do you feel about that?"
"It could maybe give me a good life, but it wouldn't make me part of the SLDF," replied Devlin. "I agree with father's decision - even with only this, it's best that it goes to the most worthy hands. I can't think of anything better to do with this than to give it to people who would use it properly - to defend the weak, and to protect the helpless."
General Armstrong nodded. "I believe you. How old are you anyway?"
"I'm fifteen, sir."
"That's the perfect age to get into Eridani Combat School. We don't usually assign Mechs until the soldier is eighteen. I hope you don't mind that. But right now," he extended his hand "Son, welcome to the Star League Sixth Corps, Third Regimental Combat Team, Eridani Light Horse."
Devlin Stone didn't shake the general's hand. He raised his hand to his face and rubbed at his eyes instead. He sniffled and tried to hold back tears.
Julia Armstrong, no longer able to contain herself, stepped forward to hold the boy and rubbed at his back while making comforting sounds.
"T-thank you sir. I… I'll make the SLDF proud. This is what father wished. No one will besmirch the honor of the SLDF anymore…"
"We are the ones honored," said Col. Winston. The wiry old man smiled and then bowed. "The ideals of the Star League Defense Forces… this really proves that it was worth keeping the faith through these centuries. This proves what we're fighting for, trying to inspire others and giving them hope that there can be an end to the barbarism and meaningless warfare of this age."
Major Stimson shrugged. "Well I wasn't expecting it to come at the point of an Urbanmech, but I'll take what I can get."
---
Silence brooked in the briefing room for a few moments. The holo once again went into a holding image of a spinning sphere with a spiky mustache.
Nathan Armstrong wondered if he should be insulted by a dead man ordering him to do things, but then again it was just a holo and if he really was already dead then it was nothing but a little time to respect the man's memory. Someone that loved the SLDF so much that his first thought was to give this cache to the Eridani Light Horse instead of profiting much by offering it to the House Lords. They were already kin, in a way.
This was lostech.
Everyone by instinct looked towards the Chief Engineer. Eligio Cade's lips turned downwards and rolled his shoulders in an expansive shrug.
He looked towards the boy and said "No offense meant… but it's still a bunch of Urbanmechs. I don't mean any insult but I think I could make better use of the parts. ER PPCs and Double Heatsinks are all well and good, but in a Warhammer they would do better."
The general nodded. "Like Hoff, you mean?"
"Aye, sir. The Dragoons didn't expect us to last so long with the experimental DHS we managed to refit into our Mechs just in time. There's three ways ways to use DHS… do it like the SLDF and use it mount more weapons, extended-range weapons, or just be able to fire the same weapons for longer."
Col. Winston looked towards Devlin and explained with a booming lecturing tone that BattleMech combat was considered in various range brackets - short range, medium range, long range. Very few Mechs were capable of sustaining an alpha strike - firing off all weapons at the same time for potentially great punishing effect.
"The Warhammer was mentioned - and it's a good example of how this works. It doesn't have nearly enough heatsinks to fire off all its weapons at once. That's not a problem because its weapons can't be used to hit all at once. It only has enough heatsinks to maintain firing off both PPCs at long range."
He extended both hands with palms facing inwards, one closer to the other. "Then as the distance closes to Medium Range, that's when the Warhammer gets to fire its pair of Medium Lasers and SRM-sixes."
He moved the furthest hand inwards to line up with the other. "It has more than enough to keep firing those medium range weapons, but to keep using PPCs you need to use alternate fire to manage heat buildup." The aged MechWarrior alternately moved each palm up and down. "Left. Right. Strike with the left PPC, attempt to widen and exploit armor breaches with the torso mounted weapons, then strike again with the right arm PPC if it wasn't enough. Then you start cyling in reverse - left, center, right, center, left, center, right. A lot of MechWarriors prefer to use bracket fire trying to fire both PPCs at once then all the Medium range weapons for greater up-front damage, but this is the sustained fire discipline that clears battlefields quickly."
Then he pulled both hands even further back to his chest. "Then at short range where the field inhibitors keep PPC from functioning well or else it damages itself, the Warhammer adds the pair of MachineGuns and Small Lasers to the fight. Usually these are meant against infantry, but at that range if you've been making your shots properly then these can seriously mess up your opponent's internals. Even if the PPCs aren't usable, all these medium and short-range weapons don't produce much heat and cycle very quickly.
"The most valuable thing in battle is time, and every bit of armor lost from your target is a weakness that other supporting elements can exploit. The SLDF isn't in the business of making one on one BattleMech honor duels."
Col. Winston dropped his hands and then gave the boy a placid 'do you understand?' look.
Devlin Stone nodded. "Thank you." He raised a finger and then said "But… doesn't that mean that a Warhammer doesn't really *need* Double Heatsinks?"
Major Edward Stimson stifled an amused snort. He chuckled and scratched at the back of his head. "Well, the kid's right. Look, if you don't want it, I'll take it. I'll take every Super Urbie you can get. Light Mechs don't have the firepower to even fight each other, most times. What makes the Draconis Panther so dangerous it that they can pack in a PPC in the smallest cheapest Mech they can make and then just throw them out there in lots. It might not be fast, but damn it makes other Light Mechs break out in hives.
"Scouting is important, and Light Mech hunters being able to kill off enemy scouts and vehicles quickly can turn the tide of battle before even Mediums or Heavies get into range. This Super Urbanmech is like it's designed as a hunter-killer of Light Mechs and smaller Mediums. Give it to me and I can clear whole lances."
Chief Engr. Cade rubbed at his chin. "Well the ER PPC not having that minimum range problem is more relevant to running light mech combat. They usually have short-range weapons and can close in very quickly. The speed to chase down Light Mechs isn't that important when they *need* to close in to inflict any damage, and a PPC blasts out the same amount of armor as an AC/10 would but across all ranges. Light Mechs know that AC/10s have limited ammo and would try to use their speed to waste shots. Things that can't dodge really hate Urbanmechs, but a Locust or a Wasp would just play with them."
"It's a trash can, but there are a lot of bugmechs," Stimson replied with a grin. "It's a trap."
"Well. Eventually that would stop working if you field enough Super Urbanmechs into battle, but then… they would just start fearing Urbies." The Chief Engineer chuckled darkly. "I suppose I can see the appeal too. But lostech is hard to repair and support, and it's really a shame to lose them. Urbanmechs are tough little bastards, but they're still just Light Mechs."
Barbara Mosley grimaced. Gen. Armstrong noticed and said "Anything to say, MechWarrior?"
"Well, sir… isn't that what they're for? Yeah lostech is valuable and all, but if they're not used then they don't matter at all. Lostech makes something hit harder than it should, and if we hold it back too much in fear that we'd lose them then why bother putting them on war machines in the first place?"
"That *is* the paradox of lostech," said Gen. Winston. "Too powerful to ignore but too irreplaceable to risk. There *are* greater gains in performance on an optimized smaller chassis than incrementally improving the capabilities of a heavier chassis. If we downgrade a Super Urbanmech into an Urbanmech we would just end up with a whole lot of Mechs that don't serve any particular function well."
The Chief Engineer looked towards General Armstrong "If you decide to take them up on this sir, well there's like dozens of them. There's no harm in keeping most of them intact and then stripping out the rest into second-line units to beef up line battalions."
"Ah. On that note, sir-" said Gen. Winston as he turned towards the Eridani Light Horse's leader "What are your thoughts on how best to use a potential regiment of fast PPC-carrying Urbanmechs?"
Nathan Armstrong stared back, carrying the weight of their expectations for a few moments, then his face broke out into an indulgent smile. "I get it. Lostech is amazing. We fought on Hoff because House Kurita was willing to deliver whole regiments just to seize or destroy House Davion's attempt at making lostech available again. Oh yes, a regiment of Urbanmechs would be really unpleasant surprise to our enemies."
Then he smirked. "But do you know? A regiment is still a regiment. It doesn't matter what it is, just having that will strengthen the Light Horse. We can't use this to rebuild the 19th, for example -" referring to the famed lost regiment of the Eridani Light Horse whose memory they still respected in rituals of remembrance "But it can plug gaps in any line. Even if it was just a regular Urbanmech… do you think artillery support lances need speed? The SLDF was always concerned with logistics, I don't know why no one before tried to replace the AC-ten with a PPC."
"Huh. That's right," mused Chief Engr. Cade. "If the Combine could turn Catapults from LRMs Mechs into CAT-K-Twos with two PPCs where the LRM boxes should be, a PPC in place of an AC-10 makes too much sense. That Autocannon is *twelve tons*. A PPC is *seven*. That's still enough for heatsinks and brace of Medium Lasers for minimum range…"
Gen. Armstrong continued "Think about it. Anything we would send a Galleon light tank right now, we could send a Super Urbanmech instead."
"Well the problem is transport, innit sir?" replied the engineer. "You could bring two tanks in the place of a single Mech. Sometimes it's worth being in two places at once aaaand I just remembered that it's a regiment. This bloody thing is worth taking along if we're thinking of carrying a Locust or a Stinger anywhere anyway."
Major Stimson laughed darkly. "I wouldn't give up my Mech just yet - arms are useful in balancing Jump Mechs, but for a PPC in something half the size and just as fast as a Griffin? I'm seriously tempted, general."
"Drop Capacity has always been the main limiting factor in warfare. We would be leaving behind Mechs… or would we?" Col. Winston's eyes widened. "I remember seeing *DropShips* in that holo."
Julia Armstrong let out a surprised hiss. Even a civilian - or specially because she was a civilian - she recognized the importance of that immediately. The Eridani Light Horse owned JumpShips, but lacked DropShips that didn't serve a military function. When moving homeworlds, they usually had to factor into negotiations with their employers chartering their civilian DropShips to move their dependents and supporting assets.
General Armstrong's brows tightened as he considered the implications. The Light Horse inherited from the SLDF XI Corps a group of 3 Monoliths, 3 Star Lords, and 6 Invader-class JumpShips.
All together that was (9 x 3), (6 x 3), and (3 x 6); 63 DropShip collars! It was a very powerful interstellar force. The Light Horse only had 22 DropShips in total to place onto those collars, and part of why the Light Horse was so respected as a fighting force was that their employers could also count on their excess JumpShip capacity to carry along their own regiments without removing their own JumpShips from service.
"That sure sounds a lot more important than just a regiment of Urbies!" Chief Engr. Cade wheezed. He turned to Devlin Stone. "How many of them are there? Enough to transport the whole bloody regiment?"
Colonel Winston shook his head and began to chuckle. "This is starting to veer towards sounding too good to be true again."
General Armstrong turned towards the boy as well. "Is this enough?" he asked. "I believe we should see that second holo now."
Devlin winced, but nodded.
He took out another holotape, but this one was a bit fatter and longer, it would protrude out of the slot.
--
--
The view showed Dr. Ivo Robotnik now more gaunt and his goggles seeming into sink into his eye sockets. His grin remained wide, but his voice could no longer be so loud.
"Message begins. I am DOCTOR Ivo Robotnik, and if you are watching this you are either my son or the SLDF or both watching this at the same time.
"First message. Son, if you are watching this, I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I can't be there for you anymore, and I'm sorry that I had to send you out in advance, and that this would be the last image of me you would ever see. That's fine. I never intended for you to watch me die anyway. This series should have most of what you need to convince the SLDF to come here and take this whole mess out of my hands.
"ANYHOOS. In which case, I have been recording this in a series of topical videoohs. So if there's something you need to know, you got to give me the keywords. Just google it. Google it." Robotnik began to dance on his seat "Just google it."
Devlin clenched his hands into fists and stared at the image stiffly.
On the screen, Dr. Ivo Robotnik began to turn his chair around, around and around, with his arms outstretched as if in childish glee. The image looped smoothly, as if forever the man would always be spinning with that endless manic energy and never becoming dizzy.
Devlin took a deep breath and said "Father. Keyword, SLDF Super Urbanmech, keyword Regiment."
The holo flickered and responded:
"When I say a regiment, I don't just mean a number of BattleMechs. I mean the whole kit and kaboodle. I mean support craft. I mean supplies. I mean SLDF gear. I mean DropShips. I mean everything that makes a SLDF Regiment a regiment. This base is too far from anything to be useful as a staging area… but this secret Port Castle includes modified DropShips designed specifically to carry these Super Urbanmechs."
"Father, SLDF DropShip, keyword, modified Dropship."
"You have your Union DropShips, and your Confederate DropShips, and your Overlord DropShips. But what you're forgetting is what they're derived *from*."
Robotnik messed around with some buttons on his command panel, and the view changed to that of an egg-shaped DropShip.
"This is the Dictator-class DropShip, developed for the SLDF to deliver a full battalion of Mechs. That's a lot of baskets in one egg. At nine thousand tons it's the capacity of three Unions. It's a cut-rate Overlord without the organic ASF support. So you might wonder, why wouldn't the SLDF bring along a DropShip… several very valuable DropShips each capable of carrying thirty-six mechs each?!"
The view changed back to Robotnik's madly grinning visage. "But here's the thing! Because these are designed to carry Urbanmechs, which are compact little walking pods, their 150-ton Mech Bays have been designed to carry TWO of them. One on top of each other, both Mechs able to be serviced at the same time on stacked gantries."
"So while normally you would expect a twelve-unit Mech Bay to carry twelve Mechs, these ships carry *twenty-four*! Instead of the maximum seventy-two Mechs in one ship, it carries only fourty-eight. Why? Because it's a modified Dictator, so the third bay is instead a Vehicle Bay.
"It's not for Combined Arms. It's for support vehicles. Those are twelve Heavy Vehicle Bays, and while they could carry and repair and refit tanks and such they're mostly designed for trucks and tankers and mobile fusion plants, and those twelve repair and refit bays are designed to be taken out and turned into vehicle maintenance works once landed.
"The rest of it is weapons, heatsinks - single only - this is apparently old Terran Hegemony vintage, engines et cetera, and a thousand or so tons of cargo. Once the Vehicle Bays have been stripped out, that frees up anywhere from six hundred to one thousand tons for cargo or cabins.
"I'm calling these half-military, half-civilian ships the Bigwig-class. You will note that unlike Overlords and Unions they *don't have* ASF bays. The military half of PROJECT SEEDCORN wanted to maintain absolute monopoly on space operations."
Robotnik pointed to the camera. "And THAT is why the SLDF left them behind. It would have taken far too long to refit the ships to remove Mech Bays that would fit anything other than Urbanmechs or any other Mech that's smaller. They abandoned and buried the site so as not to waste all that effort, but it would have been such a pain in the ass and a waste of valuable drop collars to carry them when they had real Overlords on hand."
"... Ssss!," Chief Engr. Cade sucked in air through his teeth. "We have five Overlords, and they carry thirty-six Mechs. Okay, so the SLDF made ships that can carry Super Urbanmechs and *only* Super Urbanmechs… because why the hell not."
Col. Winson chuckled. "Yeees, I respect our founders, but this is the sort of technologically overcomplicated boondoggle they would pull in the name of saving for logistics. Who cares about expensive solutions as long as it makes the problem go away in a hurry? Up front costs don't matter at all for the Star League."
"A regiment of Urbies divided into forty-eight…" Major Stimson frowned and turned his eyes up. "How many is that?"
Julia Armstrong was first to respond: "Assuming three battalions to a regiment, one hundred eight. That's two and a quarter ships, it doesn't fit neatly."
"A square battalion is fourty-eight mechs in four companies," said Gen. Armstrong. "So I would assume at least three Dicta…" He stopped and sighed. "Bigwigs. Three Bigwig DropShips."
Devlin beamed at the general using that name. Julia Armstrong held back an adoring 'awww'.
"Father, keyword Bigwigs, how many dropships are there in the facility?"
Robotnik responded:
"There are SEVEN DropShips in this facility. Since you are watching this second set of holos, I'm going to admit I lied. There isn't a regiment of Super Urbanmechs. There are two."
"Huh. I don't know what I expected, but it was not this." Col. Winston leaned back, wide-eyed.
"Seven dropships! Who cares about Urbanmechs - seven pristine SLDF DropShips?! Seven thousand tons of cargo, eighty-four vehicle capacity that can fit even artillery! If we just load it all up with light mechs, just one of them is a complete combined arms battalion in can. That's too much!" the Chief Engineer wheezed.
"A trash can," said Major Stimson said with a 'heh heh heh'.
"That's why it's a trash can, and not a trash cannot," Major Winston repeated with a wrinkled grin.
"This really does sound too good to be true. Why would he really give up all of this? If your father had just shown this to any other House it would have made him a very wealthy and important man," General Amstrong said to Devlin. "Although… I suppose a man that was going to die of radiation poisoning anyway doesn't care much for gains - but what about you? This could have given you a very comfortable life, how do you feel about that?"
"It could maybe give me a good life, but it wouldn't make me part of the SLDF," replied Devlin. "I agree with father's decision - even with only this, it's best that it goes to the most worthy hands. I can't think of anything better to do with this than to give it to people who would use it properly - to defend the weak, and to protect the helpless."
General Armstrong nodded. "I believe you. How old are you anyway?"
"I'm fifteen, sir."
"That's the perfect age to get into Eridani Combat School. We don't usually assign Mechs until the soldier is eighteen. I hope you don't mind that. But right now," he extended his hand "Son, welcome to the Star League Sixth Corps, Third Regimental Combat Team, Eridani Light Horse."
Devlin Stone didn't shake the general's hand. He raised his hand to his face and rubbed at his eyes instead. He sniffled and tried to hold back tears.
Julia Armstrong, no longer able to contain herself, stepped forward to hold the boy and rubbed at his back while making comforting sounds.
"T-thank you sir. I… I'll make the SLDF proud. This is what father wished. No one will besmirch the honor of the SLDF anymore…"
"We are the ones honored," said Col. Winston. The wiry old man smiled and then bowed. "The ideals of the Star League Defense Forces… this really proves that it was worth keeping the faith through these centuries. This proves what we're fighting for, trying to inspire others and giving them hope that there can be an end to the barbarism and meaningless warfare of this age."
Major Stimson shrugged. "Well I wasn't expecting it to come at the point of an Urbanmech, but I'll take what I can get."
---
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Sleepwalker
Know what you're doing yet?
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I read this fanfic on SB and it's really funny.
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3.1 The Last Command
bluepencil
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The Last Command 01
Colchester
Markesan Operation Area, Crucis March
Federated Suns
April 13, 3024
But even such a prize could not be claimed so quickly. It was a fact of life in the Inner Sphere that nothing actually happened in a hurry. This was because Faster-Than-Light travel didn't really exist in this interstellar civilization.
JumpShips essentially exchanged their positions from a distant point in a thirty-light year radius practically instantaneously, no perceivable travel time in between.
Everything else had to obey Newtonian limits. From Jumpships waiting at distant nadir or zenith points of a star where gravitational forces ceased to potentially cause catastrophic malfunctions while engaging a Jump, people and their equipment had to shuttle towards an inhabitable planet on DropShips.
These were limited mainly by safe gravitational thrust for its occupants. Objects in constant acceleration experience a force opposite to the direction of motion. A DropShip would accelerate at Terran standard 1 gravity, building up velocity, and then midway though the transit flip backwards to burn its thrusters the other way to shed velocity to it can enter a safe orbit around the planet in preparation for landing. This usually would take anywhere from a week to almost a month of transit time.
Meanwhile, a JumpShip had to wait for at least 172 hours to safely charge its germanium Jump Core for the next Jump.
All in all, it takes a minimum of two weeks to do anything - one week to travel from the planet; that same one week while the JumpShip charges to jump, and another week to undock from the jump ship towards the next world. Nothing in the Inner Sphere could ever accomplish anything without this two-week delay.
Nathan Armstrong considered the plotted the most Jump Route from Colchester all the way to Dumassas.
The orbit of Colchester's to its star meant that it was 22 days to the Jump Point where a JumpShip would be waiting.
From there, ideally they would never undock to do anything on a planet - just sit there, waiting for the JumpShip to charge up and Jump again to the next star. Over and over again. Fifteen times.
The world of Dumassas was missing from the normal star charts, the world was abandoned after the Second Succession War. Fortunately the Eridani Light Horse retained Star League maps, so they could plot a course to the absent world.
According to the starcharts, that would be roughly 138 days or four and a half months figuring in transit time.
Then the trip back would involve the same time assuming they don't change the route to throw off a trail.
"Ten months by honest reckoning," he sighed. "Almost a year away from duty, even to me that sounds unacceptable. House Davion always needs the Light Horse on the ready."
"I think a bigger concern is the health and morale of anyone we send. That is almost a year of living in cramped space berthing and with nothing to do except wait," said Major Wendell TeCarr.
As second-in-command of the Light Horse he was not at all happy at the possibility he would be sent out to manage this treasure hunt.
There had to be someone down the ranks with high enough authority but could be spared from the warzone for almost a year.
He continued "We can't send more than a company for this. A company by itself is sufficient to garrison a world from raiding by Wolf's Dragoons. House Davion would never approve any more than that without thinking we are trying to break our contract."
"And the Eridani Light Horse always keeps their word. The honor and integrity of the SLDF isn't worth any temporary advantage."
Then the general groaned and leaned back on his chair. "Two whole regiments. Seven DropShips…"
"If it's true, it doesn't matter if those are UrbanMechs. Those DropShips alone would be worth the trip."
"Potentially one less world garrisoned in full battalion strength for potentially six more in the next year," Gen. Armstrong sighed. "This is important enough that I might need to speak to Hanse Davion about it personally."
"Then the question remains how much you intend on telling him. The prize is big enough that he would be fool not to approve the hunt, but MIIO might want to delay this further to verify before losing the service of the full nine collars of a Monolith - or two Jumpships if we send a Star Lord and an Invader."
"And that time means the bigger risk of someone else finding out that there is something out there. Intelligence agencies monitor other intelligence agencies." Nathan Armstrong scowled and brought his hands together under his nose. "I kind of don't want to deal with any spycraft nonsense because of this."
TeCarr shrugged. "We do have great lassitude in our contract modeled after SLDF basing agreements for supply runs, but until now there hasn't been any SLDF support to actually get any supplies from."
The general grunted. "I'm almost tempted to fulfill the request from the holo and allow Dr. Robotnik to speak to Hanse Davion even by the way of a recording."
TeCarr raised both palms out and said "With all due respect sir, that sounds like a tremendously bad idea."
Armstrong smirked. "That aside, how is the kid doing?"
"Ah. Recruit Devlin Stone is fitting in just nicely with the most recent class. We've left instructions that there would not be any 'outsider' nonsense with the training, they're all of the Light Horse and the SLDF don't quarrel with its own. Unity is our strength. No special privileges though, even if he does have his own Mech ready for graduation. I don't foresee any problem with his education."
"So it's fine if we just… ignore him as an issue? Dr. Robotnik did say that bringing him back home would not be… advisable."
"But if you're thinking it might still be a trap, then bringing him along could be useful."
The general waved that aside. "That would be wasting a year of training time. No, I'll take this on faith. We'll make it work somehow - tell Green-Davion that I want to arrange a meeting."
--
--
Major Robert Green-Davion was the Federated Suns liaison to the Eridani Light Horse and handled all the day to day communications and cooperation needs between a mercenary unit and the AFFS and civilian support organizations. It was a duty that was more administrative than anything, he was not expected to jump into a BattleMech anytime soon, but he did earn his way to this rank via combat duties in the Armed Forces of the Federated Suns.
The AFFS had a high degree of professionalism and believed they were the best-run army in the entire Inner Sphere. The Free Worlds League Military was too disunited to be effective, and the Lyran Commonwealth may be well-equipped but as the ELH previously contracted with them, even they had enough of the bungling of inept social generals commanding real soldiers.
The Draconis Combine Mustered Soldiery was made of frothing madmen. And the Capellan Confederation Armed Forces were made of poor underequipped frothing madmen.
The Eridani Light Horse had strange rituals and an almost religious insistence of being called the SLDF, but he found it quite charming. Other than that, there was nothing more to ask from the Light Horse's professionalism and concern for the rules of war.
The Eridani Light Horse behaved as a full combined-arms RCT and trained in-house to standards that would not be out of place to the Davion RCTs. It was just another day in the Eridani Light Horse encampment and he watched troops and civilians move around with swiftness and purpose.
But somehow he could taste it in the air. Nothing unusual presented itself to his eyes. But the Eridani Light Horse were behaving slightly more kooky than the norm.
--
--
"I need privacy," said General Armstrong to his wife. "Would you mind not disturbing me in office for say… an hour? If Green-Davion arrives, tell him we'll discuss it over dinner."
"Sure," Julia replied with a small smile. Their prefab home had a small windowless study that could be locked and was electronically separated from the rest of the home and was acoustically opaque. She was used to her husband bringing home sensitive data that needed to be reviewed even in an officer's down-time.
Other officers might be able to 'take off their cap' and relax while at home, but the leader of the Light Horse was always on duty.
There, in silence and darkness apart from the light coming out of the holovision monitor, Nathan Armstrong pressed his finger into the thumb recess of the holocatridge. A wide range of miniaturized sensors and circuitry used noninvasive methods to verify his identity and activated the gene-locked device.
He inserted the cartridge and waited for it to boot up. The Robotnik logo shifted into the gaunt but still grinning Dr. Robotnik.
"Access granted, Nathan Armstrong, general of the Eridani Light Horse," the hologram clapped. "You have questions, I will answer them. A dead man has no use for secrets. Don't be shy now."
"Robotnik, keyword Hanse Davion, keyword Maximilian Liao. Tell me more about OPERATION DOPPELGANGER."
"Ah. What year is it? As long as it's not 3025 it should still be fine. Recap then - in 3015, the Maskirovka abducted seven scientists from Sanilac, a world in the Federated Suns…"
Nathan Armstrong grimly listened to a story that was almost unbelievable. But surgical and behavioral alteration was not entirely lostech. This was an ambitious plan, but if it succeeded then much as Maximillian Liao caused the Free Worlds League to erupt into civil war with minimal investment, then this would collapse their most hated ancestral enemy, the Federated Suns.
The Capellan Confederation could never defeat the Federated Suns militarily, economically, or even demographically. House Liao always lived in brooding resentment that if House Davion was not constantly distracted by House Kurita's many many aggressive and atrocity-filled invasions, the Capellan Confederation could easily be losing even more worlds to the Fed Suns.
Replacing Hanse Davion with a doppelganger would do more than simple asassination. After all, Ian Davion was suppposed to be the First Prince, and when he died in battle Hanse Davion needed to take the helm. The Federated Suns' democratic institutions apart from the heriditary nature of its rulership, always tended towards smooth transition of power. The time of leaderless chaos would be minimal.
This was implausible... but not impossible.
"As long as it's not 3025, you can be confident you're still speaking to the real Hanse Davion," Dr. Robotnik finished.
"How do you know all this?" he asked the recording, not really expecting a dead man to respond.
"SIGINT is nothing to me, all that is electronic is mine to command," replied the holo. "I have sources of information beyond the usual intelligence agencies. I am Doctor ROBOTNIK, and I am more than just some up-jumped treasure hunter! My doctorate is certainly NOT in archeology! Find my cache. Take what you need. Break the rules, break the status quo! I give you all the tools you need to create your future!
"Solve all your problems with Urbanmechs until your only remaining problem is Urbanmech!"
And the holo shifted to display a slowly spinning Mech. An Urbanmech.
UM-HPG.
Urbie-Ground Mobile HPG.
Nathan Armstrong's little hairs broke out in hives. The room felt chillingly cold all of a sudden.
--
--
Colchester
Markesan Operation Area, Crucis March
Federated Suns
April 13, 3024
But even such a prize could not be claimed so quickly. It was a fact of life in the Inner Sphere that nothing actually happened in a hurry. This was because Faster-Than-Light travel didn't really exist in this interstellar civilization.
JumpShips essentially exchanged their positions from a distant point in a thirty-light year radius practically instantaneously, no perceivable travel time in between.
Everything else had to obey Newtonian limits. From Jumpships waiting at distant nadir or zenith points of a star where gravitational forces ceased to potentially cause catastrophic malfunctions while engaging a Jump, people and their equipment had to shuttle towards an inhabitable planet on DropShips.
These were limited mainly by safe gravitational thrust for its occupants. Objects in constant acceleration experience a force opposite to the direction of motion. A DropShip would accelerate at Terran standard 1 gravity, building up velocity, and then midway though the transit flip backwards to burn its thrusters the other way to shed velocity to it can enter a safe orbit around the planet in preparation for landing. This usually would take anywhere from a week to almost a month of transit time.
Meanwhile, a JumpShip had to wait for at least 172 hours to safely charge its germanium Jump Core for the next Jump.
All in all, it takes a minimum of two weeks to do anything - one week to travel from the planet; that same one week while the JumpShip charges to jump, and another week to undock from the jump ship towards the next world. Nothing in the Inner Sphere could ever accomplish anything without this two-week delay.
Nathan Armstrong considered the plotted the most Jump Route from Colchester all the way to Dumassas.
The orbit of Colchester's to its star meant that it was 22 days to the Jump Point where a JumpShip would be waiting.
From there, ideally they would never undock to do anything on a planet - just sit there, waiting for the JumpShip to charge up and Jump again to the next star. Over and over again. Fifteen times.
The world of Dumassas was missing from the normal star charts, the world was abandoned after the Second Succession War. Fortunately the Eridani Light Horse retained Star League maps, so they could plot a course to the absent world.
According to the starcharts, that would be roughly 138 days or four and a half months figuring in transit time.
Then the trip back would involve the same time assuming they don't change the route to throw off a trail.
"Ten months by honest reckoning," he sighed. "Almost a year away from duty, even to me that sounds unacceptable. House Davion always needs the Light Horse on the ready."
"I think a bigger concern is the health and morale of anyone we send. That is almost a year of living in cramped space berthing and with nothing to do except wait," said Major Wendell TeCarr.
As second-in-command of the Light Horse he was not at all happy at the possibility he would be sent out to manage this treasure hunt.
There had to be someone down the ranks with high enough authority but could be spared from the warzone for almost a year.
He continued "We can't send more than a company for this. A company by itself is sufficient to garrison a world from raiding by Wolf's Dragoons. House Davion would never approve any more than that without thinking we are trying to break our contract."
"And the Eridani Light Horse always keeps their word. The honor and integrity of the SLDF isn't worth any temporary advantage."
Then the general groaned and leaned back on his chair. "Two whole regiments. Seven DropShips…"
"If it's true, it doesn't matter if those are UrbanMechs. Those DropShips alone would be worth the trip."
"Potentially one less world garrisoned in full battalion strength for potentially six more in the next year," Gen. Armstrong sighed. "This is important enough that I might need to speak to Hanse Davion about it personally."
"Then the question remains how much you intend on telling him. The prize is big enough that he would be fool not to approve the hunt, but MIIO might want to delay this further to verify before losing the service of the full nine collars of a Monolith - or two Jumpships if we send a Star Lord and an Invader."
"And that time means the bigger risk of someone else finding out that there is something out there. Intelligence agencies monitor other intelligence agencies." Nathan Armstrong scowled and brought his hands together under his nose. "I kind of don't want to deal with any spycraft nonsense because of this."
TeCarr shrugged. "We do have great lassitude in our contract modeled after SLDF basing agreements for supply runs, but until now there hasn't been any SLDF support to actually get any supplies from."
The general grunted. "I'm almost tempted to fulfill the request from the holo and allow Dr. Robotnik to speak to Hanse Davion even by the way of a recording."
TeCarr raised both palms out and said "With all due respect sir, that sounds like a tremendously bad idea."
Armstrong smirked. "That aside, how is the kid doing?"
"Ah. Recruit Devlin Stone is fitting in just nicely with the most recent class. We've left instructions that there would not be any 'outsider' nonsense with the training, they're all of the Light Horse and the SLDF don't quarrel with its own. Unity is our strength. No special privileges though, even if he does have his own Mech ready for graduation. I don't foresee any problem with his education."
"So it's fine if we just… ignore him as an issue? Dr. Robotnik did say that bringing him back home would not be… advisable."
"But if you're thinking it might still be a trap, then bringing him along could be useful."
The general waved that aside. "That would be wasting a year of training time. No, I'll take this on faith. We'll make it work somehow - tell Green-Davion that I want to arrange a meeting."
--
--
Major Robert Green-Davion was the Federated Suns liaison to the Eridani Light Horse and handled all the day to day communications and cooperation needs between a mercenary unit and the AFFS and civilian support organizations. It was a duty that was more administrative than anything, he was not expected to jump into a BattleMech anytime soon, but he did earn his way to this rank via combat duties in the Armed Forces of the Federated Suns.
The AFFS had a high degree of professionalism and believed they were the best-run army in the entire Inner Sphere. The Free Worlds League Military was too disunited to be effective, and the Lyran Commonwealth may be well-equipped but as the ELH previously contracted with them, even they had enough of the bungling of inept social generals commanding real soldiers.
The Draconis Combine Mustered Soldiery was made of frothing madmen. And the Capellan Confederation Armed Forces were made of poor underequipped frothing madmen.
The Eridani Light Horse had strange rituals and an almost religious insistence of being called the SLDF, but he found it quite charming. Other than that, there was nothing more to ask from the Light Horse's professionalism and concern for the rules of war.
The Eridani Light Horse behaved as a full combined-arms RCT and trained in-house to standards that would not be out of place to the Davion RCTs. It was just another day in the Eridani Light Horse encampment and he watched troops and civilians move around with swiftness and purpose.
But somehow he could taste it in the air. Nothing unusual presented itself to his eyes. But the Eridani Light Horse were behaving slightly more kooky than the norm.
--
--
"I need privacy," said General Armstrong to his wife. "Would you mind not disturbing me in office for say… an hour? If Green-Davion arrives, tell him we'll discuss it over dinner."
"Sure," Julia replied with a small smile. Their prefab home had a small windowless study that could be locked and was electronically separated from the rest of the home and was acoustically opaque. She was used to her husband bringing home sensitive data that needed to be reviewed even in an officer's down-time.
Other officers might be able to 'take off their cap' and relax while at home, but the leader of the Light Horse was always on duty.
There, in silence and darkness apart from the light coming out of the holovision monitor, Nathan Armstrong pressed his finger into the thumb recess of the holocatridge. A wide range of miniaturized sensors and circuitry used noninvasive methods to verify his identity and activated the gene-locked device.
He inserted the cartridge and waited for it to boot up. The Robotnik logo shifted into the gaunt but still grinning Dr. Robotnik.
"Access granted, Nathan Armstrong, general of the Eridani Light Horse," the hologram clapped. "You have questions, I will answer them. A dead man has no use for secrets. Don't be shy now."
"Robotnik, keyword Hanse Davion, keyword Maximilian Liao. Tell me more about OPERATION DOPPELGANGER."
"Ah. What year is it? As long as it's not 3025 it should still be fine. Recap then - in 3015, the Maskirovka abducted seven scientists from Sanilac, a world in the Federated Suns…"
Nathan Armstrong grimly listened to a story that was almost unbelievable. But surgical and behavioral alteration was not entirely lostech. This was an ambitious plan, but if it succeeded then much as Maximillian Liao caused the Free Worlds League to erupt into civil war with minimal investment, then this would collapse their most hated ancestral enemy, the Federated Suns.
The Capellan Confederation could never defeat the Federated Suns militarily, economically, or even demographically. House Liao always lived in brooding resentment that if House Davion was not constantly distracted by House Kurita's many many aggressive and atrocity-filled invasions, the Capellan Confederation could easily be losing even more worlds to the Fed Suns.
Replacing Hanse Davion with a doppelganger would do more than simple asassination. After all, Ian Davion was suppposed to be the First Prince, and when he died in battle Hanse Davion needed to take the helm. The Federated Suns' democratic institutions apart from the heriditary nature of its rulership, always tended towards smooth transition of power. The time of leaderless chaos would be minimal.
This was implausible... but not impossible.
"As long as it's not 3025, you can be confident you're still speaking to the real Hanse Davion," Dr. Robotnik finished.
"How do you know all this?" he asked the recording, not really expecting a dead man to respond.
"SIGINT is nothing to me, all that is electronic is mine to command," replied the holo. "I have sources of information beyond the usual intelligence agencies. I am Doctor ROBOTNIK, and I am more than just some up-jumped treasure hunter! My doctorate is certainly NOT in archeology! Find my cache. Take what you need. Break the rules, break the status quo! I give you all the tools you need to create your future!
"Solve all your problems with Urbanmechs until your only remaining problem is Urbanmech!"
And the holo shifted to display a slowly spinning Mech. An Urbanmech.
UM-HPG.
Urbie-Ground Mobile HPG.
Nathan Armstrong's little hairs broke out in hives. The room felt chillingly cold all of a sudden.
--
--
3.2 The Last Command
bluepencil
The tropics will be uninhabitable.
- Joined
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Fort Bradley Training Base Adjunct
Colchester
Federated Suns
April 22, 3024
Fort Bradley was large and sensibly arranged to support all three Regiments of the Light Horse and all their dependents at the same time if necessary. However, even as a military base it was not big enough to support basic training for new recruits.
To this end, a boot camp was constructed some distance away from the main camp. This sense of isolation away from the rest of the Eridani Light Horse would reduce distractions and help forge recruits into soldiers that could only rely on each other.
Recruits were assigned to communal barracks and randomly assigned into 84-man training companies, then three platoons of 28-men, further subdivided into 4 squads of 7 recruits each.
Men and women trained together in the same squad instead of segregating by gender. Not only did the Light Horse need to make full use of each possible soldier, given that these recruits were teenagers instead of young adults as the normal recruiting age, they were to be molded early on to give highest respect to each other and not let any physical differences get in the way of the mission. As junior soldiers, their training also served as standard schooling and would graduate to branch training after six months. This too was derived from the standard SLDF training program.
Squad leaders were not assigned during the first month.
--
--
"Welcome to the SLDF," said the Base Commander David Frakes. "Looking at you here, some of you may have been born expecting to carry on duty your forebears have taken up. Some of you here may be the children of new elements serving in the combat postings of the Eridani Light Horse. Some of you here may not have any prior military background. Some of you may have been born suckling on myomer. None of that matters!
"There are no outsiders here. Nothing makes you superior to any other. Every recruit starts from the same position, and this training program is not designed to break you and rebuild you into what the military wants you to be - unlike what certain Great House training programs might do - but to make you the best of what you *can* be. To be part of something greater than yourself.
"Some of you might think our rituals of observance are outdated. But these all come from the most successful training program ever devised, designed to deal with any raw recruit and transform them into a well-drilled highly-motivated fighting and thinking man or woman.
"The manpower needs of the Star League Defense Force were near-unimaginable. As the largest military ever assembled, and the only military ever built from citizens of every nation and realm in the inhabited galaxy, a constant source of trained, professional soldiers was needed.
"Our mandate derives from Executive Order 34, issued by First Lord Nicholas Cameron in 2606, reaffirmed the Star League Defense Forces' right to recruit men and women from any member state without interference from its government.
"The SLDF opened hundreds, and eventually thousands, of recruiting offices in the Inner Sphere and Periphery. These offices had all the rights of a diplomatic mission: once someone walks through the front doors, that person is governed by the laws of the Star League, not the member state.
"The moment you entered these boundaries of my camp, you ceased to be whatever you may have been before. You belong to the Star League now.
"And we will make of you something great or die trying. We are the SLDF, and the only death is mediocrity."
--
--
"Quit draggin' your feet, Urbie! GO! GO! GO! And you, is that a smile on your face, you fat tub of lard? Fall behind, Broadway, and I'll drive the Mech that will step on you myself!" the Drill Sergeant screamed at the group. "Education waits for no man nor woman! Hut! Hut! Hut! ON STEP!"
Devlin Stone was in no state of mind to get angry at anything. Even though like each recruit they were allowed a full night's rest, each of them felt a bone-deep exhaustion that lingered through the day.
They woke up early to clean and assemble and perform Personal Training Exercises, and then breakfast. Then digesting with cleaning and maintaining the barracks and their gear and then it was off to class.
--
"Recruit Stone! Am I boring you, recruit?!"
Devlin Stone, already familiar with the protocol, stood up to attention as soon as his name was called.
"Sir, no sir!"
"Then what's with the glassy eyes recruit?! Are you asleep on your feet or just dumb?!"
"..."
"Answer me, recruit!"
"Sir, I don't know how to respond to that, sir!"
"A dumbass, then! Then maybe you can answer this, see if you've been paying attention! WHAT IS THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN A LINE REGIMENT AND AN INDEPENDENT REGIMENT?!"
"Sir, Line Regiments are assigned to divisional brigades as part of a divisional combat team! A BattleMech regiment, for example, contains only BattleMechs and trained for the best combat role for their equipment. They do not included supporting elements such as Armor, Infantry, or Aerospace Fighters, such roles are filled by other uniform Regiments in the division or by assigned supporting units!
"Independent Regiments unlike Line Regiment contain a full complement of support troops including armor and infantry. Many Independent Regiments also possess integral DropShip and JumpShip assets to facilitate their deployment!
"Good you can regurgitate a book! Now tell me why Independent Regiments even exist! Why can't the SLDF just use their Line Regiments for everything?!"
"Sir! The regiment is the smallest formation routinely deployed for front-line combat! The SLDF doctrine is to build companies, battalions and even sometimes entire regiments of one combat equipment, they are specialized to one role which eases training and logistics!
"But the Independent Regiment is a combined arms force that is a tactical solution. Independent regiments must be able to fulfill multiple combat roles and more aggressive SLDF officers and enlisted men are assigned to independent regiments!
"Independent regiments are designed to be deployed quickly and often in advance of the main force or where flexibility is required, sir!"
"Aggression! I like that word! Tell me why my precious Eridani Light Horse was the best fighting type of regiment in the SLDF!"
"It isn't, sir!"
One could almost feel the room boil from that declaration. The sergeant instructor sprang from the head of the room to glower bug-eyed at Devlin.
"Maybe I didn't hear that correctly. Maybe it was just a second of utter batshit insanity. Care to repeat your words, recruit!?"
"Sir, the Eridani Light Horse is a Light Horse Regiment, sir! The best at fighting WHAT, sir?! Even among independent regiments there are specializations, sir!"
"What are these specializations that our beloved Light Horse supposedly can't do?!"
"Sir! The three principal types of Independent Regiments are broadly analogous to the role of line regiments!
"Dragoon Regiments are the independent equivalent of heavy assault regiments, mixing heavy and assault weight Mechs and armor and rarely deploy their infantry in offensive roles, holding them back for defensive operations!
"Hussar regiments are analogous to Battle Regiments, composed of Medium and Heavy Battlemechs that fulfill multiple roles!
"Light Horse regiments are the eyes and ears of the SLDF. They are analogous to the Striker regiments which are employed for recon and breakthrough exploitation. They are the only line regiments to have organic aerospace assets, including Land-Air Mechs-
"Light Horse regiments function as quick-response troops usually grouped in multi-regimental formations known as Regimental Combat Teams! The Eridani Light Horse was formed of two Light Horse and two Striker Regiments, sir!"
"What sort of ignorant backwoods did you come out of, recruit?! Do you not have any sense?! What do you think our 121st and Command Lances are taking to battle, fucking *Urbanmechs*?!"
"Sir! The Eridani Light Horse Regimental Combat Team is still a quick reaction force but now doing the work usually expected of a whole division of the SLDF, sir!"
The sergeant jutted out his jaw and considered. Then with a grunt, he nodded. "Fair enough. Sit your ass down."
"Sir! Thank you, sir!"
--
The many, many lectures on harassment and sex education was just embarrassing humiliating for them all.
--
While Sgt. Henry Mormount taught Military History with the same level of energy as on the field, as if the battles he recounted were happening right at that very moment, Sgt. Janine Giacomo taught Military Science with crisp precision expecting the recruits to behave like full adults.
Hers was a thinking class, and recruits had to strain their brain with how they would respond to theoreticals.
The woman with voluminous reddish blonde hair spoke: "These are the TWELVE PRINCIPLES OF COMMAND, around which the SLDF and all its values and methods and doctrines revolve around. What all that of us need to do is to continue to follow these precepts and as long as it is done then the SLDF remains existent.
"Remember, following the twelve principles is what makes someone a true soldier of the Star League Defense Forces instead of merely using their equipment."
--
--
1. Objective.
Always keep a clear goal in mind. With-out it, the lives you lose are meaningless.
2. Offensive.
When given the chance, attack and remain on the offensive for as long as possible. The enemy is weakest when backing up, and so are you.
3. Unity of Command.
Always know who is above and below you in the chain of command and what they are doing. It will not only help you in times of trouble, but it will also give you a better sense of how your mission fits into the overall picture.
4. Strength.
Never willingly enter battle at a numerical disadvantage. Even the sloppiest army can defeat you if it is bigger.
5. Economy of Force.
Do not waste your effort and supplies. Use just enough of your force to inflict the maximum amount of havoc on the enemy in the minimum amount of time. Save the rest of your strength to exploit your gains or protect yourself from counterattack.
6. Maneuver.
Learn the value of maneuverability. Being able to speed across the battlefield in a coordinated wave of force can overwhelm the toughest opponent with a minimum of bloodshed.
7. Surprise.
The element of surprise effectively doubles your force.
8. Intelligence.
Information is like eggs, the fresher the better. A good guess might win a battle, but a bad one can eventually lose a campaign.
9. Simplicity.
If a plan looks messy on paper or in a computer simulation, it is too complicated to succeed. The best plans often turn out to be ones drawn in the dirt and explained with a few hand gestures. A good solution applied with vigor immediately is better than a perfect solution ten minutes later.
10. Maintenance of Morale.
Instill pride and sense of duty, worthiness, and loyalty into your soldiers. Keep them informed, rested, and happy. Officers should visit the front often, not to meddle but for personal contact with the troops.
11. Administration.
This is the dullest, most mind-numbing of chores, but doing it properly is infinitely better than facing the enemy without ammunition.
12. Mercy.
Be firm and win the day, but once the fighting is over, treat your prisoners with respect and courtesy. Not only is it the correct and moral thing for a soldier of the Star League to do, but once enemy soldiers hear of your merciful treatment, they might also be more willing to surrender.
--
--
"There were a number of institutional and doctrinal standards built from the pyres of some of the largest conflicts and studies involving millions of soldiers and those institutions and doctrines have stood us in good stead ever since.
"But foremost amongst those doctrines is perseverance. A soldier of the Star League does not give up. The mission, our duty, our orders—all are upheld, to the last man, bullet or wound."
--
--
"Haw! You got sure some stones, Stone!" bellowed William Bloderwerg, the largest in the squad. He was the one the drill sergeant called Broadway because of that. "I'da been so scared to answer back the sarge like that."
"Impressive that it worked out… but was it wise?" said little Tom Lexington. The recruit was more interested in the Technician track than the MechWarrior or Armor track, but everyone had to go through basic training.
Salli Maza and Angela Bakko were the two girls in the squad. Salli was the older one and seemed to have taken the younger under her wing. She moved over to punch Devlin in the shoulder.
"Ow," he said. "What was that for?"
"For luck," Salli replied with a grin. "Good job. Being outstanding isn't a sin. Where did you learn all of that?"
Devlin's gaze looked distant for a moment.
--
"Boy! Imagine what if Alexsander Kerensky didn't leave? With the might of the SLDF behind you and fighting all the Great Houses all at once - could you save the Star League or would you just be a great Terran Despot no different from any of them? How about in reverse - the return of the Star League in Exile?
"Behold! My strategic wargame opus PARADOX: INNER SPHERE!"
…
"Father, the AI is cheating."
"Of course the AI is cheating! If you're playing honestly you're doing it wrong!"
"But… the SLDF…"
"Cheating harder doesn't mean cheating more obviously. It means having the disadvantage working for you instead. If your enemy is cheating in a predictable way, turn it against them. The morale is to the physical as the three is to one. But if you know your enemy and not yourself, and they know themselves and never your reality, you shall never fear a thousand battles!"
"It's still making Mechs right out of nowhere though. It's still unfair."
"Yeah that part isn't unrealistic at all."
--
"Books," Devlin answered dully. "I learned from… books." Field Manual SLDF 2760, to be precise.
"Feh. Showing off, Urbie?" said Bennet Brooklyn, a tall but wiry teen. "Trying to angle for the squad leader job this early? Don't get to puffed up just because you got a Mech already lined up for you. An Urbanmech is just an Urbanmech, it's nothing to be proud of, Urbie."
Devlin shrugged.
Bennet scowled and pointed a thumb back at himself. "When my time comes, it's going to be something a lot more impressive!"
"No one's going to call you Awesome, Brooklyn. Give it up!" said Salli Maza.
"Yeah, like how long do you think you have to wait before the company leaders retire?" piped in Angela Bakko.
"S-shut up!" he hissed at them with a flushed face then turned back to Devlin. He poked at the boy's chest with a finger. "Don't feel too proud of yourself! A squad leader needs the respect of his squad and I don't respect you. If you get in my way, I'll step on you like a Marauder on an egg."
The oldest in the squad, Hudson Asner, looked up and considered if he had to intervene. He was somewhat lazy though and didn't want the job. It still remained that while Broderwerg was the biggest in the squad, it was Asner who had real muscles forged by farm work.
Devlin's eyebrows raised. He beamed. "Oh? Are we throwing hands? We can do that right now if you want."
Then he cricked his neck from side to side in that eerie way of his with no in-between motion in a birdlike or almost mechanical sort of way.
Brooklyn grimaced with disgust and backed away.
--
--
"Son! We're going to figure out this Phantom Mech NewType bullshittery! Here, wear this welder's faceplate. Now take this glowstick. These drones are going to zap you with low power electrolasers until you can instinctively intercept the beams without looking."
"... Father, lasers travel at lightspeed."
"Dodge the aim, not the beam!"
--
--
Colchester
Federated Suns
April 22, 3024
Fort Bradley was large and sensibly arranged to support all three Regiments of the Light Horse and all their dependents at the same time if necessary. However, even as a military base it was not big enough to support basic training for new recruits.
To this end, a boot camp was constructed some distance away from the main camp. This sense of isolation away from the rest of the Eridani Light Horse would reduce distractions and help forge recruits into soldiers that could only rely on each other.
Recruits were assigned to communal barracks and randomly assigned into 84-man training companies, then three platoons of 28-men, further subdivided into 4 squads of 7 recruits each.
Men and women trained together in the same squad instead of segregating by gender. Not only did the Light Horse need to make full use of each possible soldier, given that these recruits were teenagers instead of young adults as the normal recruiting age, they were to be molded early on to give highest respect to each other and not let any physical differences get in the way of the mission. As junior soldiers, their training also served as standard schooling and would graduate to branch training after six months. This too was derived from the standard SLDF training program.
Squad leaders were not assigned during the first month.
--
--
"Welcome to the SLDF," said the Base Commander David Frakes. "Looking at you here, some of you may have been born expecting to carry on duty your forebears have taken up. Some of you here may be the children of new elements serving in the combat postings of the Eridani Light Horse. Some of you here may not have any prior military background. Some of you may have been born suckling on myomer. None of that matters!
"There are no outsiders here. Nothing makes you superior to any other. Every recruit starts from the same position, and this training program is not designed to break you and rebuild you into what the military wants you to be - unlike what certain Great House training programs might do - but to make you the best of what you *can* be. To be part of something greater than yourself.
"Some of you might think our rituals of observance are outdated. But these all come from the most successful training program ever devised, designed to deal with any raw recruit and transform them into a well-drilled highly-motivated fighting and thinking man or woman.
"The manpower needs of the Star League Defense Force were near-unimaginable. As the largest military ever assembled, and the only military ever built from citizens of every nation and realm in the inhabited galaxy, a constant source of trained, professional soldiers was needed.
"Our mandate derives from Executive Order 34, issued by First Lord Nicholas Cameron in 2606, reaffirmed the Star League Defense Forces' right to recruit men and women from any member state without interference from its government.
"The SLDF opened hundreds, and eventually thousands, of recruiting offices in the Inner Sphere and Periphery. These offices had all the rights of a diplomatic mission: once someone walks through the front doors, that person is governed by the laws of the Star League, not the member state.
"The moment you entered these boundaries of my camp, you ceased to be whatever you may have been before. You belong to the Star League now.
"And we will make of you something great or die trying. We are the SLDF, and the only death is mediocrity."
--
--
"Quit draggin' your feet, Urbie! GO! GO! GO! And you, is that a smile on your face, you fat tub of lard? Fall behind, Broadway, and I'll drive the Mech that will step on you myself!" the Drill Sergeant screamed at the group. "Education waits for no man nor woman! Hut! Hut! Hut! ON STEP!"
Devlin Stone was in no state of mind to get angry at anything. Even though like each recruit they were allowed a full night's rest, each of them felt a bone-deep exhaustion that lingered through the day.
They woke up early to clean and assemble and perform Personal Training Exercises, and then breakfast. Then digesting with cleaning and maintaining the barracks and their gear and then it was off to class.
--
"Recruit Stone! Am I boring you, recruit?!"
Devlin Stone, already familiar with the protocol, stood up to attention as soon as his name was called.
"Sir, no sir!"
"Then what's with the glassy eyes recruit?! Are you asleep on your feet or just dumb?!"
"..."
"Answer me, recruit!"
"Sir, I don't know how to respond to that, sir!"
"A dumbass, then! Then maybe you can answer this, see if you've been paying attention! WHAT IS THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN A LINE REGIMENT AND AN INDEPENDENT REGIMENT?!"
"Sir, Line Regiments are assigned to divisional brigades as part of a divisional combat team! A BattleMech regiment, for example, contains only BattleMechs and trained for the best combat role for their equipment. They do not included supporting elements such as Armor, Infantry, or Aerospace Fighters, such roles are filled by other uniform Regiments in the division or by assigned supporting units!
"Independent Regiments unlike Line Regiment contain a full complement of support troops including armor and infantry. Many Independent Regiments also possess integral DropShip and JumpShip assets to facilitate their deployment!
"Good you can regurgitate a book! Now tell me why Independent Regiments even exist! Why can't the SLDF just use their Line Regiments for everything?!"
"Sir! The regiment is the smallest formation routinely deployed for front-line combat! The SLDF doctrine is to build companies, battalions and even sometimes entire regiments of one combat equipment, they are specialized to one role which eases training and logistics!
"But the Independent Regiment is a combined arms force that is a tactical solution. Independent regiments must be able to fulfill multiple combat roles and more aggressive SLDF officers and enlisted men are assigned to independent regiments!
"Independent regiments are designed to be deployed quickly and often in advance of the main force or where flexibility is required, sir!"
"Aggression! I like that word! Tell me why my precious Eridani Light Horse was the best fighting type of regiment in the SLDF!"
"It isn't, sir!"
One could almost feel the room boil from that declaration. The sergeant instructor sprang from the head of the room to glower bug-eyed at Devlin.
"Maybe I didn't hear that correctly. Maybe it was just a second of utter batshit insanity. Care to repeat your words, recruit!?"
"Sir, the Eridani Light Horse is a Light Horse Regiment, sir! The best at fighting WHAT, sir?! Even among independent regiments there are specializations, sir!"
"What are these specializations that our beloved Light Horse supposedly can't do?!"
"Sir! The three principal types of Independent Regiments are broadly analogous to the role of line regiments!
"Dragoon Regiments are the independent equivalent of heavy assault regiments, mixing heavy and assault weight Mechs and armor and rarely deploy their infantry in offensive roles, holding them back for defensive operations!
"Hussar regiments are analogous to Battle Regiments, composed of Medium and Heavy Battlemechs that fulfill multiple roles!
"Light Horse regiments are the eyes and ears of the SLDF. They are analogous to the Striker regiments which are employed for recon and breakthrough exploitation. They are the only line regiments to have organic aerospace assets, including Land-Air Mechs-
"Light Horse regiments function as quick-response troops usually grouped in multi-regimental formations known as Regimental Combat Teams! The Eridani Light Horse was formed of two Light Horse and two Striker Regiments, sir!"
"What sort of ignorant backwoods did you come out of, recruit?! Do you not have any sense?! What do you think our 121st and Command Lances are taking to battle, fucking *Urbanmechs*?!"
"Sir! The Eridani Light Horse Regimental Combat Team is still a quick reaction force but now doing the work usually expected of a whole division of the SLDF, sir!"
The sergeant jutted out his jaw and considered. Then with a grunt, he nodded. "Fair enough. Sit your ass down."
"Sir! Thank you, sir!"
--
The many, many lectures on harassment and sex education was just embarrassing humiliating for them all.
--
While Sgt. Henry Mormount taught Military History with the same level of energy as on the field, as if the battles he recounted were happening right at that very moment, Sgt. Janine Giacomo taught Military Science with crisp precision expecting the recruits to behave like full adults.
Hers was a thinking class, and recruits had to strain their brain with how they would respond to theoreticals.
The woman with voluminous reddish blonde hair spoke: "These are the TWELVE PRINCIPLES OF COMMAND, around which the SLDF and all its values and methods and doctrines revolve around. What all that of us need to do is to continue to follow these precepts and as long as it is done then the SLDF remains existent.
"Remember, following the twelve principles is what makes someone a true soldier of the Star League Defense Forces instead of merely using their equipment."
--
--
1. Objective.
Always keep a clear goal in mind. With-out it, the lives you lose are meaningless.
2. Offensive.
When given the chance, attack and remain on the offensive for as long as possible. The enemy is weakest when backing up, and so are you.
3. Unity of Command.
Always know who is above and below you in the chain of command and what they are doing. It will not only help you in times of trouble, but it will also give you a better sense of how your mission fits into the overall picture.
4. Strength.
Never willingly enter battle at a numerical disadvantage. Even the sloppiest army can defeat you if it is bigger.
5. Economy of Force.
Do not waste your effort and supplies. Use just enough of your force to inflict the maximum amount of havoc on the enemy in the minimum amount of time. Save the rest of your strength to exploit your gains or protect yourself from counterattack.
6. Maneuver.
Learn the value of maneuverability. Being able to speed across the battlefield in a coordinated wave of force can overwhelm the toughest opponent with a minimum of bloodshed.
7. Surprise.
The element of surprise effectively doubles your force.
8. Intelligence.
Information is like eggs, the fresher the better. A good guess might win a battle, but a bad one can eventually lose a campaign.
9. Simplicity.
If a plan looks messy on paper or in a computer simulation, it is too complicated to succeed. The best plans often turn out to be ones drawn in the dirt and explained with a few hand gestures. A good solution applied with vigor immediately is better than a perfect solution ten minutes later.
10. Maintenance of Morale.
Instill pride and sense of duty, worthiness, and loyalty into your soldiers. Keep them informed, rested, and happy. Officers should visit the front often, not to meddle but for personal contact with the troops.
11. Administration.
This is the dullest, most mind-numbing of chores, but doing it properly is infinitely better than facing the enemy without ammunition.
12. Mercy.
Be firm and win the day, but once the fighting is over, treat your prisoners with respect and courtesy. Not only is it the correct and moral thing for a soldier of the Star League to do, but once enemy soldiers hear of your merciful treatment, they might also be more willing to surrender.
--
--
"There were a number of institutional and doctrinal standards built from the pyres of some of the largest conflicts and studies involving millions of soldiers and those institutions and doctrines have stood us in good stead ever since.
"But foremost amongst those doctrines is perseverance. A soldier of the Star League does not give up. The mission, our duty, our orders—all are upheld, to the last man, bullet or wound."
--
--
"Haw! You got sure some stones, Stone!" bellowed William Bloderwerg, the largest in the squad. He was the one the drill sergeant called Broadway because of that. "I'da been so scared to answer back the sarge like that."
"Impressive that it worked out… but was it wise?" said little Tom Lexington. The recruit was more interested in the Technician track than the MechWarrior or Armor track, but everyone had to go through basic training.
Salli Maza and Angela Bakko were the two girls in the squad. Salli was the older one and seemed to have taken the younger under her wing. She moved over to punch Devlin in the shoulder.
"Ow," he said. "What was that for?"
"For luck," Salli replied with a grin. "Good job. Being outstanding isn't a sin. Where did you learn all of that?"
Devlin's gaze looked distant for a moment.
--
"Boy! Imagine what if Alexsander Kerensky didn't leave? With the might of the SLDF behind you and fighting all the Great Houses all at once - could you save the Star League or would you just be a great Terran Despot no different from any of them? How about in reverse - the return of the Star League in Exile?
"Behold! My strategic wargame opus PARADOX: INNER SPHERE!"
…
"Father, the AI is cheating."
"Of course the AI is cheating! If you're playing honestly you're doing it wrong!"
"But… the SLDF…"
"Cheating harder doesn't mean cheating more obviously. It means having the disadvantage working for you instead. If your enemy is cheating in a predictable way, turn it against them. The morale is to the physical as the three is to one. But if you know your enemy and not yourself, and they know themselves and never your reality, you shall never fear a thousand battles!"
"It's still making Mechs right out of nowhere though. It's still unfair."
"Yeah that part isn't unrealistic at all."
--
"Books," Devlin answered dully. "I learned from… books." Field Manual SLDF 2760, to be precise.
"Feh. Showing off, Urbie?" said Bennet Brooklyn, a tall but wiry teen. "Trying to angle for the squad leader job this early? Don't get to puffed up just because you got a Mech already lined up for you. An Urbanmech is just an Urbanmech, it's nothing to be proud of, Urbie."
Devlin shrugged.
Bennet scowled and pointed a thumb back at himself. "When my time comes, it's going to be something a lot more impressive!"
"No one's going to call you Awesome, Brooklyn. Give it up!" said Salli Maza.
"Yeah, like how long do you think you have to wait before the company leaders retire?" piped in Angela Bakko.
"S-shut up!" he hissed at them with a flushed face then turned back to Devlin. He poked at the boy's chest with a finger. "Don't feel too proud of yourself! A squad leader needs the respect of his squad and I don't respect you. If you get in my way, I'll step on you like a Marauder on an egg."
The oldest in the squad, Hudson Asner, looked up and considered if he had to intervene. He was somewhat lazy though and didn't want the job. It still remained that while Broderwerg was the biggest in the squad, it was Asner who had real muscles forged by farm work.
Devlin's eyebrows raised. He beamed. "Oh? Are we throwing hands? We can do that right now if you want."
Then he cricked his neck from side to side in that eerie way of his with no in-between motion in a birdlike or almost mechanical sort of way.
Brooklyn grimaced with disgust and backed away.
--
--
"Son! We're going to figure out this Phantom Mech NewType bullshittery! Here, wear this welder's faceplate. Now take this glowstick. These drones are going to zap you with low power electrolasers until you can instinctively intercept the beams without looking."
"... Father, lasers travel at lightspeed."
"Dodge the aim, not the beam!"
--
--
3.3 The Last Command
bluepencil
The tropics will be uninhabitable.
- Joined
- Feb 19, 2013
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New Avalon
Crucis March
Federated Suns
May 23, 3024
"No one man can govern so vast a realm, even if that man is genius, saint, and hero all at once. And when a man of inferior or even ordinary abilities tries to exercise power over so many worlds and so many billions of people, the result is the tyranny, chaos, ignorance, greed, or hatred that we have already seen too often."
– Simon Davion
Hanse Davion was widely considered a very important man, whose every minute of time was worth unimaginable value even compared to the wealthiest of plutocrats in the Inner Sphere. You could never buy your way into a meeting with the First Prince of the Federated Suns, a man personally responsible for the fates of over half a thousand worlds and dozens of billions of people.
Commanding over two hundred regiments with millions of troops, usually mercenary commands in the regimentary scale such as the Dioscuri (2 regiments, assigned to guard the entire Kearny Combat Region facing the Taurian Concordat) was not worth his time.
But Hanse Davion had personally courted the Eridani Light Horse's three regiments on their way out from Steiner employment and continued to offer them extremely generous terms. After turning away Wolf's Dragoons and DCMS 17th Galedon on Hoff, Hanse personally communicated through HPG with Nathan Armstrong his congratulations and sympathies of their losses and of his intention to allow the Light Horse time to rebuild, remanding them to rotating garrison duties and selling them new BattleMechs at cost.
Eridani Light Horse technicians and field commanders were invited to lecture at NAIS to share their insights about Star League technology and doctrine.
When Hanse Davion received the message that Brevet General Nathan L. Armstrong solicited a face-to-face meeting with a special request that Ardan Sortek be there with him, the notion tickled Hanse's curiosity enough that he sent word back that time would be made in his schedule.
Colchester to New Avalon was 4 jumps away and at best speed would take 52 days. Technically it was possible to shorten the travel to much sooner if a jumpship was conveniently at the next stop with an empty collar, but even as the core worlds of the Federated Suns were busy with ships, it was an unreliable prospect compared to chartering with a Jumpship headed in most of the way and then checking schedules in the next systems with planet-based HPGs. Make it an even month to be sure.
The vagaries of interstellar travel meant that keeping a strict schedule was not really possible. Once Nathan Armstrong had made it on-planet, he would be given a date when it would be convenient to present himself.
--
That day had arrived.
Ardan Sortek was Hanse Davion's oldest friend and the commanding officer of the Davion Heavy Guards. He looked dashing as picture-perfect on the recruiting poster as one might need for the AFFS, but in actuality was uncomfortable in more social situations.
"You're favoring the Eridani Light Horse too much," he said while they waited at a solar overlooking the Davion Gardens. "But I haven't seen you this happy to meet someone for a long time now. Are state functions and all those double-speaking diplomats so unbearable?" Ardan Sortek shook his head sadly. "It's good that you're taking time away for the things you personally enjoy. Lostech and the Star League… there are worse hobbies for a Prince to have."
"Right, you have met General Armstrong before haven't you?" The Davion Heavy Guards were usually assigned to flexibly defend the Crucis March and were had as the homeworld Galax, one Jump away from New Avalon. Too far away from Hoff. "He's not as deranged as the rumors say, you know. Not even the Light Horse as a whole. It's kind of fascinating, they're as much a living cultural artifact as much they're some very highly trained fighters."
"The Crucis Lancers RCTs were formed from the Star League soldiers that chose to stay instead of going off with Kerensky. They still maintain many Star League traditions, what more do you expect to gain from mercenaries?" Ardan mused. "In fact, on paper, I'd say that ELH as an RCT are inferior to our Regimental Combat Teams. One BattleMech Regiment and Three Armored and Five Infantry is better than Three Regiments of mixed BattleMech and Armor. Mech for Mech, the numbers run to almost the same."
Hanse nodded. "Then on Hoff they faced with one regiment and the Dahar Militia, another medium-weight regiment, Wolf's Dragoons' Epsilon Regiment which was very heavily tilted towards Heavy Mechs and the 17th Galedon. Outnumbered mech by mech, they still made a very good showing of themselves. They ruined the Galedon Regulars and almost threw back the Dragoons. I've been looking over the BattleROMs of that campaign, if you plot it over a map, there's just this… smoothness in how they maneuver, you know?"
"I think the Crucis Lancers RCT could have done better," Ardan looked mulish, unwilling to concede the point.
Hanse only smiled, not pointing out that the Crucis Lancers were also tasked to defend a wide area and moving them would expose a weakness like on Quentin, when two Battle Regiments of Wolf's Dragoons and Takashi Kurita himself showed up.
"My lords!" came a voice from the door at the far end of hallway leading into the solar "Presenting, Brevet General Nathan Armstrong of the Eridani Light Horse!"
"Ah!" cried Hanse. "Here we go."
--
"My lord Prince Davion, thank you for taking the time to meet me," Armstrong bowed.
Hanse smiled genially and bid him to take a seat. He compared Nathan Armstrong to Ardan Sortek and found they were very much of a similar type. One was just blonde and the other of dark hair. The two measured each other with wary gazes. Perhaps it was their similarities that instinctively made them be on guard.
He smiled impishly.
"You're welcome, and I'm pleased to allow it. Now what's this about?"
"I have two concerns to bring to your attention, Prince Davion. The first, as detailed in the information packet delivered earlier, is a request for reorganization of our defensive support commitments under Section Nine of our basing agreement."
The Eridani Light Horse refused to say the word 'contract' at any point.
"Under Section Nine, portions of the Eridani Light Horse ground and naval assets may be detached to support resupply operations. We have a need to temporarily remove one JumpShip and one company to support resupply and recovery for a period of no less than ten months."
"That's… a long time," said Hanse. "I have to ask, which JumpShip?"
"The Monolith-class SLS ARENDAL, and one Mech company of the 25th Striker Regiment."
Hanse's eyebrows raised, then lowered. He clasped both palms together and leaned with his elbows on the table.
"Nine drop-collars are particularly valuable. A company, that's fine. But a Monolith JumpShip is so large and so rare that losing access to it would have wide-ranging repercussions. What's your real reason for this?"
"Officially, this is a supply run and the Eridani Light Horse are under no obligation to speak about the source of resupply for security reasons. Unofficially… we also request access to a Mule DropShip without any crew."
Hanse smirked "Daring, are we? If you're willing to make demands to my face - no, even if you say it as a request, you could have just asked it from regular channels - you better have a good reason."
From beside him, Ardan Sortek's eyes narrowed at the insult.
"Unofficially, this supply run is valuable enough to detach those elements and spend so much time away from the front because it may bring you things both of us want." Armstrong nodded briefly "Things… NAIS would want."
"Oh? Interesting. Why shouldn't NAIS just go with you to take a look at those… things?"
"Operational security, Prince Davion. MIIO is good, but the fewer that know any details, the better. Even right now, only three people know about this - five now, I suppose."
Hanse Davion leaned back and crossed his arms. "Five months…" He grunted. Then he smiled again. "It's in the Periphery, isn't it? Did you happen find out about some sort of Star League cache?"
Armstrong blinked. Figuring out that much just from the travel time - Hanse Davion was as canny as the rumors made him out to be.
"I can neither confirm nor deny, but suffice it to say my lord… the Eridani Light Horse are prepared to offer their fair share. As someone I know said to me 'the rule of dibs doesn't exactly apply outside of Davion space', but in respect to the possible inconvenience this brings, we are prepared to pay a reasonable… found property tax.
"Needless to say, this much should only ever stay between us. Or wherever might be listening to this right now, be it MIIO, Maskirovka, or hell with it, let's say even Comstar." Armstrong turned aside to shout "STOP LISTENING TO MY PHONE SEX CALLS, YOU PRICKS!"
Hanse grinned widely.
Ardan was taken aback by the sudden vulgarity. "Wha-"
"Hah! Good one, good one!" No one had the balls to be so offensive in the face of the First Prince of the Federated Suns. This could get you cashiered in any other House, but Hanse Davion? Someone knew Hanse had a sense of humor.
Armstrong's face was back to a placid mask of professionalism, so much that if anyone were to ever ask, it was clear he would deny ever having said anything improper that the questioner would like like he was the one crazy.
Ardan gave Hanse a look that said 'are you really sure he's not as deranged as they say?'
"You know what? Fine. I'll allow it. I mean, ahem, House Davion and the SLDF will work this out somehow. Whatever you need to carry this out, just ask your liaison, he'll get it done," Hanse waved the issue away. "What about that second concern you said?"
Armstrong nodded. "You know of WolfNet, right? Wolf's Dragoons' surprisingly effective intelligence agency? Well, the Eridani Light Horse doesn't have one of those, but we are starting to see how useful it could be."
Hanse smiled and nodded while Ardan Sortek started to frown. Armstrong added: "SLDF Precept Eight: Intelligence. Information is like eggs, the fresher the better. A good guess might win a battle, but a bad one can eventually lose a campaign. Not all that is useful in battle happens while on the battlefield. Military intelligence needs as much actionable data as it can obtain in order to create a cohesive strategy. Without an Objective to work towards, all lives lost are in vain."
Hanse nodded again. "Right. So are you asking for our assistance in building an intelligence network?" He looked eager. This would tie down the Eridani Light Horse to House Davion even further.
"Ah, well. We have already begun. We happened to get our hands on some data that my conscience cannot allow me to go without being passed on to its target. We have no means at this time to verify this, but you should be able to do so with more… subtlety."
"The target. You mean me and Ardan?" Having himself be a target for all sorts of skullduggery was nothing new to Hanse, but straight-edged Ardan Sortek? That seemed to really irk him. His friend was a simple man with simple desires, to serve the Federated Suns on the field of battle. The only reason to meddle with him is because it could emotionally hurt Hanse.
Very carefully, Nathan Armstrong reached into his jacket and took out a folded envelope and a lighter that had already passed several security checks.
"For your eyes only. Even right now, we should not speak of this lightly. Please burn after reading."
With one raised eyebrow, Hanse took the envelope. He unfolded the paper within and began to read. As his gaze passed line by line, the easy grin on his face faded into a stony mask.
He looked up, and gone was the affable round-faced nature that so endeared him to the Federated Suns to be replaced with the keen and ruthless political mind that earned him the name "The Fox". He said "This sounds… all too far-fetched."
Armstrong opened his arms out in a minute shrug. "And yet not all that impossible. Again, we are in no position to verify this."
Hanse glanced towards Ardan. His expression stormed with indecision, and then he sighed. He beckoned his friend closer, and with a shush gesture to his own lips passed the paper over.
Ardan read through the paper, then scowled.
"This is nonsense!" he spat out, glaring at the man. What respect he had for the Eridani Light Horse and their scrupulous SLDF tradition was tarnished slightly. "You can't seriously expect me to believe-"
"Believing is not at all required," said Hanse. "Intelligence without verification is just a story that might as well be fiction, right?" He grinned again. "Who knows - maybe someone could make a holo about this someday."
He took back the piece of paper from Ardan's hands and set it alight.
"Your request to detach a portion of your regiment is has my blessing. We're going to find a way to make do. House Davion has been fighting Kurita for over half a millennium now, a little less won't break us. As for anything else… well, that's beyond your remit, isn't it?"
"Thank you, Prince Davion. Yes, we are more comfortable with being soldiers."
Ardan Sortek was not as convinced. "How is this not a dereliction of duty? Think about the people that could have been helped during that time."
"Administration is the most boring, mind-numbing part of running a military organization, but it is infinitely preferable to fighting without adequate transport or ammunition," replied Nathan. "The SLDF is not in the habit of leaving people to die. The regiments without will just have to fight twice as hard when called, I suppose."
Ardan Sortek looked away and coughed into his hand with a noise that sounded something like 'hurensky'.
Armstrong nodded. "And sometimes assholes are just assholes, and sacrificing your precious people for the forever ungrateful is foolish to the extreme."
Ardan bristled. "What are you implying?!"
Armstrong shrugged. "The Eridani Light Horse was originally assigned to the Rasalhague District to keep peace between Steiner and Kurita, even as barely-disguised pirates and bandits raided each other's worlds. When Kerensky called, the Eleventh Corps, Third RCT remained in service to the people. We defended the Draconis Combine against the first thrusts of the Lyran Commonwealth.
"Then we heard about the atrocity that was Kentares and realized that House Kurita was not a fitting place for us. On Sendai, the Draconis Combine murdered our dependents, and so we our own grudges to bear against them as the Federated Suns do. Sometimes you have to help yourself to be in a position to help more people - soldiers are soldiers, heroes are heroes, but martyrdom doesn't save people. It only inspires others to do the work you can't do anymore."
"You know, I have to ask - why did it take this long for the Eridani Light Horse to consider working for House Davion?" Ardan asked next.
Nathan Armstrong looked out the large arched window. The lavish expanse of Davion Palace with its multiple gardens and broad plazas hid a structure designed to be defended and fought over using BattleMechs. "The Light Horse on our exit from Kuritan space first decided to head towards Marik space. The Free Worlds League seemed to us as the closest to the Star League principles as, you will have to forgive me, Davion monarchy is just as willing to fight for worlds as anyone. The absolutist autocracy of House Kurita was bad enough, House Davion like House Steiner just seemed too centralized to be comfortable for us."
"Heh. First time I hear the League being a dysfunctional factional pit of voles being a feature," said Hanse. "That's fair."
Then mused as well "Minoru Kurita declaring himself the First Lord needed to be opposed, but even now I'm not sure if John Davion really needed to declare for it himself. Relationship between the Terran Hegemony and the Federated Suns had always been good, would it have been so bad? I'm sure House Davion could have smoothly continued the Star League norms, compared to other claimants."
"The destruction and atrocities of the First Succession Wars make such concerns moot, my Lord. Everyone was mongering for worlds. The Light Horse in service to House Marik felt that the luxury being offered to us was tempting us to let go of the traditions and standards of SLDF and be just highly regarded Marik troops. That's why the Eridani Light Horse split apart and went off to the Periphery."
Ardan wondered if this was a subtle insult being directed at the Crucis Lancers. "But that didn't work out so well for you, did it?"
"The lack of resources eventually just forced the Light Horse Regiments to farm the poor soil. A pirate raid in full regiment strength raided our supply center, which had always been suspicious. This forced the compromise to lend out the military services of the Third RCT. That was when we traveled to the Lyran Commonwealth and spent over seventy years teaching the Draconis Combine to fear the sign of the trotting brown horse."
Ardan sniffed. Well he could respect that, at least.
"In 2946, the Eridani Light Horse matched against Bronson's Horde, the mercenary unit that was formed from elements that stayed within the Free Worlds League. As a Brevet General, I can be replaced if ever I let mercenary considerations take over Eridani tradition. We broke the back of Bronson's Horde over our knee and even now they fight for and against all Great Houses as little more than bandits and pirates.
"That is the importance of tradition and history. All mercenary commands have their own histories, their own mythologies, but ever has the Eridani Light Horse centered itself on the highest standards of the SLDF. Our dream is someday, maybe, if we keep fighting long enough and serve worthy leaders - maybe someday we would live to see the Star League reborn and humanity at peace once more."
"Heh." Hanse grinned twistedly again and casually lounged back with an arm over the back of his chair. With a teasing tone "If you really believe that, as the remaining piece of the SLDF, why don't you just take Terra?"
Hanse was just joking, for of course Terra's protection in the middle of the Inner Sphere was its neutrality. Taking Terra would ruin the neutrality of the HPG network and the free trade passing through the Terran corridor and would then have to fight off everybody.
The strength of the SLDF.
The might of the Terran Hegemony.
Kerensky took away the army that did have the power to fight off everybody. Without it, quickly and completely, did the entirety of the Terran Hegemony vanish, devoured by the Carrion Lords.
He was a Lyran orphan. He had no particular attachment to Terra.
It would take immense, colossal, insane power to rebuild the core of the Star League.
Armstrong closed his eyes. Just a dream, nothing more.
--
--
Colchester
Crucis March
Federated Suns
One month ago
"Robotnik, why am I getting shipments of Fluid Guns?" Armstrong asked with a sigh.
Robotnik responded: "The Urbanmech asks a question: can an Assault Mech still hit you if you have completely obscured its vision with Obscurant? Probably. But what if its footing is unstable under an Oil Slick? Chances are high. What if it's also on fire and bathing in Inferno Gel? Now it has bigger problems to worry about. Frankly at this point the metal-eating Corrosive is just adding insult to injury.
"We can go full Wizard on this thing! No sense of right or wrong! URBAWIZARD, HARRY!
"More rationally: Fluid Guns are useful for police actions. Expect shipments of regular Urbanmechs even before you go off to claim my cache. I accept myself as a man who knows the value of patience, but also recklessly impulsive when it suits me. Go test them out with the kids."
"How is this even possible if you're dead? Are you even actually dead?"
"Does the concept of custom shipping orders somehow elude you?"
Armstrong closed his eyes and massaged the furrow between his brows. Fine. Someone who had enough spycraft to penetrate the Maskirovka probably has enough black funding for all sorts of things. Due to the nature of interstellar transport and specialized industries, many worlds already order things via HPG and then the sender only ships them out as JumpShips become available heading towards the target world.
But-
"You are much too conversant for a mere recording. How are you even responding to me right now?"
"I'm just responding to what a reasonable person would say in your situation triggered by keywords. Do you think somehow I'm getting HPG signals through? Your whole base would be blasting with ECM and radiation from the HyperPulse wave right now."
"What if you're like, I don't know, some sort of brain in a jar or something."
"Do you actually think whatever measly processor your stupid holo playback device has the capacity to run a human mind or some sort of artificial intelligence? Don't be silly beans. Heck, it doesn't even have a way to receive outside signals, does it?"
"If you had the time to make so many of these recordings to deal with every possible topic, maybe you should have spent more of it with your son. This legacy of words isn't the same as having a father."
"I tried, but I had to send him away. Let him remember me only in happy times, not as the withered cancerous carcass I would soon become. Let his memory only have his father always being a strength in his life that he can always rely on. And grow up as a man of strength and vision that can support others."
"I think being too concerned with appearances is too egotistical of you, but too late now, I suppose."
"I don't know what to say about that."
Crucis March
Federated Suns
May 23, 3024
"No one man can govern so vast a realm, even if that man is genius, saint, and hero all at once. And when a man of inferior or even ordinary abilities tries to exercise power over so many worlds and so many billions of people, the result is the tyranny, chaos, ignorance, greed, or hatred that we have already seen too often."
– Simon Davion
Hanse Davion was widely considered a very important man, whose every minute of time was worth unimaginable value even compared to the wealthiest of plutocrats in the Inner Sphere. You could never buy your way into a meeting with the First Prince of the Federated Suns, a man personally responsible for the fates of over half a thousand worlds and dozens of billions of people.
Commanding over two hundred regiments with millions of troops, usually mercenary commands in the regimentary scale such as the Dioscuri (2 regiments, assigned to guard the entire Kearny Combat Region facing the Taurian Concordat) was not worth his time.
But Hanse Davion had personally courted the Eridani Light Horse's three regiments on their way out from Steiner employment and continued to offer them extremely generous terms. After turning away Wolf's Dragoons and DCMS 17th Galedon on Hoff, Hanse personally communicated through HPG with Nathan Armstrong his congratulations and sympathies of their losses and of his intention to allow the Light Horse time to rebuild, remanding them to rotating garrison duties and selling them new BattleMechs at cost.
Eridani Light Horse technicians and field commanders were invited to lecture at NAIS to share their insights about Star League technology and doctrine.
When Hanse Davion received the message that Brevet General Nathan L. Armstrong solicited a face-to-face meeting with a special request that Ardan Sortek be there with him, the notion tickled Hanse's curiosity enough that he sent word back that time would be made in his schedule.
Colchester to New Avalon was 4 jumps away and at best speed would take 52 days. Technically it was possible to shorten the travel to much sooner if a jumpship was conveniently at the next stop with an empty collar, but even as the core worlds of the Federated Suns were busy with ships, it was an unreliable prospect compared to chartering with a Jumpship headed in most of the way and then checking schedules in the next systems with planet-based HPGs. Make it an even month to be sure.
The vagaries of interstellar travel meant that keeping a strict schedule was not really possible. Once Nathan Armstrong had made it on-planet, he would be given a date when it would be convenient to present himself.
--
That day had arrived.
Ardan Sortek was Hanse Davion's oldest friend and the commanding officer of the Davion Heavy Guards. He looked dashing as picture-perfect on the recruiting poster as one might need for the AFFS, but in actuality was uncomfortable in more social situations.
"You're favoring the Eridani Light Horse too much," he said while they waited at a solar overlooking the Davion Gardens. "But I haven't seen you this happy to meet someone for a long time now. Are state functions and all those double-speaking diplomats so unbearable?" Ardan Sortek shook his head sadly. "It's good that you're taking time away for the things you personally enjoy. Lostech and the Star League… there are worse hobbies for a Prince to have."
"Right, you have met General Armstrong before haven't you?" The Davion Heavy Guards were usually assigned to flexibly defend the Crucis March and were had as the homeworld Galax, one Jump away from New Avalon. Too far away from Hoff. "He's not as deranged as the rumors say, you know. Not even the Light Horse as a whole. It's kind of fascinating, they're as much a living cultural artifact as much they're some very highly trained fighters."
"The Crucis Lancers RCTs were formed from the Star League soldiers that chose to stay instead of going off with Kerensky. They still maintain many Star League traditions, what more do you expect to gain from mercenaries?" Ardan mused. "In fact, on paper, I'd say that ELH as an RCT are inferior to our Regimental Combat Teams. One BattleMech Regiment and Three Armored and Five Infantry is better than Three Regiments of mixed BattleMech and Armor. Mech for Mech, the numbers run to almost the same."
Hanse nodded. "Then on Hoff they faced with one regiment and the Dahar Militia, another medium-weight regiment, Wolf's Dragoons' Epsilon Regiment which was very heavily tilted towards Heavy Mechs and the 17th Galedon. Outnumbered mech by mech, they still made a very good showing of themselves. They ruined the Galedon Regulars and almost threw back the Dragoons. I've been looking over the BattleROMs of that campaign, if you plot it over a map, there's just this… smoothness in how they maneuver, you know?"
"I think the Crucis Lancers RCT could have done better," Ardan looked mulish, unwilling to concede the point.
Hanse only smiled, not pointing out that the Crucis Lancers were also tasked to defend a wide area and moving them would expose a weakness like on Quentin, when two Battle Regiments of Wolf's Dragoons and Takashi Kurita himself showed up.
"My lords!" came a voice from the door at the far end of hallway leading into the solar "Presenting, Brevet General Nathan Armstrong of the Eridani Light Horse!"
"Ah!" cried Hanse. "Here we go."
--
"My lord Prince Davion, thank you for taking the time to meet me," Armstrong bowed.
Hanse smiled genially and bid him to take a seat. He compared Nathan Armstrong to Ardan Sortek and found they were very much of a similar type. One was just blonde and the other of dark hair. The two measured each other with wary gazes. Perhaps it was their similarities that instinctively made them be on guard.
He smiled impishly.
"You're welcome, and I'm pleased to allow it. Now what's this about?"
"I have two concerns to bring to your attention, Prince Davion. The first, as detailed in the information packet delivered earlier, is a request for reorganization of our defensive support commitments under Section Nine of our basing agreement."
The Eridani Light Horse refused to say the word 'contract' at any point.
"Under Section Nine, portions of the Eridani Light Horse ground and naval assets may be detached to support resupply operations. We have a need to temporarily remove one JumpShip and one company to support resupply and recovery for a period of no less than ten months."
"That's… a long time," said Hanse. "I have to ask, which JumpShip?"
"The Monolith-class SLS ARENDAL, and one Mech company of the 25th Striker Regiment."
Hanse's eyebrows raised, then lowered. He clasped both palms together and leaned with his elbows on the table.
"Nine drop-collars are particularly valuable. A company, that's fine. But a Monolith JumpShip is so large and so rare that losing access to it would have wide-ranging repercussions. What's your real reason for this?"
"Officially, this is a supply run and the Eridani Light Horse are under no obligation to speak about the source of resupply for security reasons. Unofficially… we also request access to a Mule DropShip without any crew."
Hanse smirked "Daring, are we? If you're willing to make demands to my face - no, even if you say it as a request, you could have just asked it from regular channels - you better have a good reason."
From beside him, Ardan Sortek's eyes narrowed at the insult.
"Unofficially, this supply run is valuable enough to detach those elements and spend so much time away from the front because it may bring you things both of us want." Armstrong nodded briefly "Things… NAIS would want."
"Oh? Interesting. Why shouldn't NAIS just go with you to take a look at those… things?"
"Operational security, Prince Davion. MIIO is good, but the fewer that know any details, the better. Even right now, only three people know about this - five now, I suppose."
Hanse Davion leaned back and crossed his arms. "Five months…" He grunted. Then he smiled again. "It's in the Periphery, isn't it? Did you happen find out about some sort of Star League cache?"
Armstrong blinked. Figuring out that much just from the travel time - Hanse Davion was as canny as the rumors made him out to be.
"I can neither confirm nor deny, but suffice it to say my lord… the Eridani Light Horse are prepared to offer their fair share. As someone I know said to me 'the rule of dibs doesn't exactly apply outside of Davion space', but in respect to the possible inconvenience this brings, we are prepared to pay a reasonable… found property tax.
"Needless to say, this much should only ever stay between us. Or wherever might be listening to this right now, be it MIIO, Maskirovka, or hell with it, let's say even Comstar." Armstrong turned aside to shout "STOP LISTENING TO MY PHONE SEX CALLS, YOU PRICKS!"
Hanse grinned widely.
Ardan was taken aback by the sudden vulgarity. "Wha-"
"Hah! Good one, good one!" No one had the balls to be so offensive in the face of the First Prince of the Federated Suns. This could get you cashiered in any other House, but Hanse Davion? Someone knew Hanse had a sense of humor.
Armstrong's face was back to a placid mask of professionalism, so much that if anyone were to ever ask, it was clear he would deny ever having said anything improper that the questioner would like like he was the one crazy.
Ardan gave Hanse a look that said 'are you really sure he's not as deranged as they say?'
"You know what? Fine. I'll allow it. I mean, ahem, House Davion and the SLDF will work this out somehow. Whatever you need to carry this out, just ask your liaison, he'll get it done," Hanse waved the issue away. "What about that second concern you said?"
Armstrong nodded. "You know of WolfNet, right? Wolf's Dragoons' surprisingly effective intelligence agency? Well, the Eridani Light Horse doesn't have one of those, but we are starting to see how useful it could be."
Hanse smiled and nodded while Ardan Sortek started to frown. Armstrong added: "SLDF Precept Eight: Intelligence. Information is like eggs, the fresher the better. A good guess might win a battle, but a bad one can eventually lose a campaign. Not all that is useful in battle happens while on the battlefield. Military intelligence needs as much actionable data as it can obtain in order to create a cohesive strategy. Without an Objective to work towards, all lives lost are in vain."
Hanse nodded again. "Right. So are you asking for our assistance in building an intelligence network?" He looked eager. This would tie down the Eridani Light Horse to House Davion even further.
"Ah, well. We have already begun. We happened to get our hands on some data that my conscience cannot allow me to go without being passed on to its target. We have no means at this time to verify this, but you should be able to do so with more… subtlety."
"The target. You mean me and Ardan?" Having himself be a target for all sorts of skullduggery was nothing new to Hanse, but straight-edged Ardan Sortek? That seemed to really irk him. His friend was a simple man with simple desires, to serve the Federated Suns on the field of battle. The only reason to meddle with him is because it could emotionally hurt Hanse.
Very carefully, Nathan Armstrong reached into his jacket and took out a folded envelope and a lighter that had already passed several security checks.
"For your eyes only. Even right now, we should not speak of this lightly. Please burn after reading."
With one raised eyebrow, Hanse took the envelope. He unfolded the paper within and began to read. As his gaze passed line by line, the easy grin on his face faded into a stony mask.
He looked up, and gone was the affable round-faced nature that so endeared him to the Federated Suns to be replaced with the keen and ruthless political mind that earned him the name "The Fox". He said "This sounds… all too far-fetched."
Armstrong opened his arms out in a minute shrug. "And yet not all that impossible. Again, we are in no position to verify this."
Hanse glanced towards Ardan. His expression stormed with indecision, and then he sighed. He beckoned his friend closer, and with a shush gesture to his own lips passed the paper over.
Ardan read through the paper, then scowled.
"This is nonsense!" he spat out, glaring at the man. What respect he had for the Eridani Light Horse and their scrupulous SLDF tradition was tarnished slightly. "You can't seriously expect me to believe-"
"Believing is not at all required," said Hanse. "Intelligence without verification is just a story that might as well be fiction, right?" He grinned again. "Who knows - maybe someone could make a holo about this someday."
He took back the piece of paper from Ardan's hands and set it alight.
"Your request to detach a portion of your regiment is has my blessing. We're going to find a way to make do. House Davion has been fighting Kurita for over half a millennium now, a little less won't break us. As for anything else… well, that's beyond your remit, isn't it?"
"Thank you, Prince Davion. Yes, we are more comfortable with being soldiers."
Ardan Sortek was not as convinced. "How is this not a dereliction of duty? Think about the people that could have been helped during that time."
"Administration is the most boring, mind-numbing part of running a military organization, but it is infinitely preferable to fighting without adequate transport or ammunition," replied Nathan. "The SLDF is not in the habit of leaving people to die. The regiments without will just have to fight twice as hard when called, I suppose."
Ardan Sortek looked away and coughed into his hand with a noise that sounded something like 'hurensky'.
Armstrong nodded. "And sometimes assholes are just assholes, and sacrificing your precious people for the forever ungrateful is foolish to the extreme."
Ardan bristled. "What are you implying?!"
Armstrong shrugged. "The Eridani Light Horse was originally assigned to the Rasalhague District to keep peace between Steiner and Kurita, even as barely-disguised pirates and bandits raided each other's worlds. When Kerensky called, the Eleventh Corps, Third RCT remained in service to the people. We defended the Draconis Combine against the first thrusts of the Lyran Commonwealth.
"Then we heard about the atrocity that was Kentares and realized that House Kurita was not a fitting place for us. On Sendai, the Draconis Combine murdered our dependents, and so we our own grudges to bear against them as the Federated Suns do. Sometimes you have to help yourself to be in a position to help more people - soldiers are soldiers, heroes are heroes, but martyrdom doesn't save people. It only inspires others to do the work you can't do anymore."
"You know, I have to ask - why did it take this long for the Eridani Light Horse to consider working for House Davion?" Ardan asked next.
Nathan Armstrong looked out the large arched window. The lavish expanse of Davion Palace with its multiple gardens and broad plazas hid a structure designed to be defended and fought over using BattleMechs. "The Light Horse on our exit from Kuritan space first decided to head towards Marik space. The Free Worlds League seemed to us as the closest to the Star League principles as, you will have to forgive me, Davion monarchy is just as willing to fight for worlds as anyone. The absolutist autocracy of House Kurita was bad enough, House Davion like House Steiner just seemed too centralized to be comfortable for us."
"Heh. First time I hear the League being a dysfunctional factional pit of voles being a feature," said Hanse. "That's fair."
Then mused as well "Minoru Kurita declaring himself the First Lord needed to be opposed, but even now I'm not sure if John Davion really needed to declare for it himself. Relationship between the Terran Hegemony and the Federated Suns had always been good, would it have been so bad? I'm sure House Davion could have smoothly continued the Star League norms, compared to other claimants."
"The destruction and atrocities of the First Succession Wars make such concerns moot, my Lord. Everyone was mongering for worlds. The Light Horse in service to House Marik felt that the luxury being offered to us was tempting us to let go of the traditions and standards of SLDF and be just highly regarded Marik troops. That's why the Eridani Light Horse split apart and went off to the Periphery."
Ardan wondered if this was a subtle insult being directed at the Crucis Lancers. "But that didn't work out so well for you, did it?"
"The lack of resources eventually just forced the Light Horse Regiments to farm the poor soil. A pirate raid in full regiment strength raided our supply center, which had always been suspicious. This forced the compromise to lend out the military services of the Third RCT. That was when we traveled to the Lyran Commonwealth and spent over seventy years teaching the Draconis Combine to fear the sign of the trotting brown horse."
Ardan sniffed. Well he could respect that, at least.
"In 2946, the Eridani Light Horse matched against Bronson's Horde, the mercenary unit that was formed from elements that stayed within the Free Worlds League. As a Brevet General, I can be replaced if ever I let mercenary considerations take over Eridani tradition. We broke the back of Bronson's Horde over our knee and even now they fight for and against all Great Houses as little more than bandits and pirates.
"That is the importance of tradition and history. All mercenary commands have their own histories, their own mythologies, but ever has the Eridani Light Horse centered itself on the highest standards of the SLDF. Our dream is someday, maybe, if we keep fighting long enough and serve worthy leaders - maybe someday we would live to see the Star League reborn and humanity at peace once more."
"Heh." Hanse grinned twistedly again and casually lounged back with an arm over the back of his chair. With a teasing tone "If you really believe that, as the remaining piece of the SLDF, why don't you just take Terra?"
Hanse was just joking, for of course Terra's protection in the middle of the Inner Sphere was its neutrality. Taking Terra would ruin the neutrality of the HPG network and the free trade passing through the Terran corridor and would then have to fight off everybody.
The strength of the SLDF.
The might of the Terran Hegemony.
Kerensky took away the army that did have the power to fight off everybody. Without it, quickly and completely, did the entirety of the Terran Hegemony vanish, devoured by the Carrion Lords.
He was a Lyran orphan. He had no particular attachment to Terra.
It would take immense, colossal, insane power to rebuild the core of the Star League.
Armstrong closed his eyes. Just a dream, nothing more.
--
--
Colchester
Crucis March
Federated Suns
One month ago
"Robotnik, why am I getting shipments of Fluid Guns?" Armstrong asked with a sigh.
Robotnik responded: "The Urbanmech asks a question: can an Assault Mech still hit you if you have completely obscured its vision with Obscurant? Probably. But what if its footing is unstable under an Oil Slick? Chances are high. What if it's also on fire and bathing in Inferno Gel? Now it has bigger problems to worry about. Frankly at this point the metal-eating Corrosive is just adding insult to injury.
"We can go full Wizard on this thing! No sense of right or wrong! URBAWIZARD, HARRY!
"More rationally: Fluid Guns are useful for police actions. Expect shipments of regular Urbanmechs even before you go off to claim my cache. I accept myself as a man who knows the value of patience, but also recklessly impulsive when it suits me. Go test them out with the kids."
"How is this even possible if you're dead? Are you even actually dead?"
"Does the concept of custom shipping orders somehow elude you?"
Armstrong closed his eyes and massaged the furrow between his brows. Fine. Someone who had enough spycraft to penetrate the Maskirovka probably has enough black funding for all sorts of things. Due to the nature of interstellar transport and specialized industries, many worlds already order things via HPG and then the sender only ships them out as JumpShips become available heading towards the target world.
But-
"You are much too conversant for a mere recording. How are you even responding to me right now?"
"I'm just responding to what a reasonable person would say in your situation triggered by keywords. Do you think somehow I'm getting HPG signals through? Your whole base would be blasting with ECM and radiation from the HyperPulse wave right now."
"What if you're like, I don't know, some sort of brain in a jar or something."
"Do you actually think whatever measly processor your stupid holo playback device has the capacity to run a human mind or some sort of artificial intelligence? Don't be silly beans. Heck, it doesn't even have a way to receive outside signals, does it?"
"If you had the time to make so many of these recordings to deal with every possible topic, maybe you should have spent more of it with your son. This legacy of words isn't the same as having a father."
"I tried, but I had to send him away. Let him remember me only in happy times, not as the withered cancerous carcass I would soon become. Let his memory only have his father always being a strength in his life that he can always rely on. And grow up as a man of strength and vision that can support others."
"I think being too concerned with appearances is too egotistical of you, but too late now, I suppose."
"I don't know what to say about that."
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4.1 Raiders of the Lost Urbie
bluepencil
The tropics will be uninhabitable.
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Raiders of the Lost Urbie part 1
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-.
-.
Lynchburg
Abandoned System
Federated Commonwealth
Date unknown
The JumpShip SLS ARENDAL hung motionless in space with its wide Jump Sail deployed behind it, billowing from the pressure of invisible solar wind. The ship had to wait a full 178 hours to recharge its Jump Core.
The Captain of the Monolith glanced boredly down at the system's information.
Even inside the Crucis March, there were dead and abandoned worlds. Although a great bulk of them were lost in the chaos and murder of the first two Succession Wars, plenty of other worlds were also abandoned for economic reasons.
They were approaching the area of Davion space known as the Outback, where the income divide was even more stark, where the might and prosperity of the Federated Suns were absent. These were forgotten, poverty-stricken worlds, where you might find a single school for an entire planet.
The Federated Suns didn't care for them. Even a mighty nation with the largest and most well-trained military in the Inner Sphere could not divert any resources into improving their lives - or rather, one might imagine that the reason the Outback was such a region of the lost and forgotten was that everything important had to go towards the military.
When you had the Draconis Combine with their total war footing constantly trying to invade and destroy your culture with their all-conquering Imperial Japanese fantasy obsession, weakening the military was a nonstarter.
As soon as you get up, you get knocked down. No one was allowed to keep an advantage. That was the reason for all these cross-border raidings. Depots. Industries. Power plants. Water purifiers. All had become valid military targets.
Lynchburg had a world with 1.08 g surface gravity, an orbital period of 2.9 Terran years, and high equatorial temperature of 36 degrees. To live here, they needed domes.
"With a poisonous atmosphere, it's no wonder this place got abandoned," he muttered to himself. "Before this was Korvitz, another lost world. After this it's Covington, with B-rated HPG. Anyone tracking us would be two weeks out of date."
A-Rated HPG stations transmitted and relayed information from systems around them every 12 to 24 hours. B-rated stations transmitted every few days.
The Eridani Light JumpShip operated under military rules, not commercial ones. Other JumpShips holding station on the Nadir and Zenith Jump Points could read usually read each other's IFF, exchange gossip and electronic media, and tattle about it when they reach the next system. The ELH wasn't obliged to file a jump plan when asked by an inhabited world in a system for them to squawk out via HPG (as filing regular jump paths was important for civilian trade and transport), but it was convenient anyway to use a dead world for the shortest jump path.
Commercial JumpShips avoided dead systems as a rule, because with no one else to notice it was a perfect pirate ambush spot.
"Poor earthbound sods," said the pilot. Even if a JumpShip had .1g station-keeping drives that could not get it anywhere, a pilot was still needed to do careful precise work like aligning the JumpShip carefully towards the star to deploy the Jump Sail cleanly, or to shift facings to present anti-meteor armament."Why do people have to be so fixated on planets, anyway? Trying to settle all these barely habitable worlds, for what? A station would be easier."
"Stations have a maximum capacity," replied the Captain. "You can't just keep adding more blocks to a station, grav decks and life support become too unbalanced after a while. But even the poorest rock in space if it has anything close to 1 g. That's what makes a planet worth the hassle."
"What, sheer mass?"
"We are monkeys clawing at the stars, but in the end this monkey just isn't made to live in zero-g. I haven't set foot on a world in thirty years now, and I don't miss it one bit. But without our grav deck… no, the entire Inner Sphere wouldn't function if JumpShips couldn't support their crew."
"Ugh, we're crowded enough as it is. If only we could expand and build in more grav decks."
Unfortunately that was not how JumpShips worked, what with 95% of their mass required to be the germanium Jump Core that allowed them to travel 30-light years per week, and there were no shipyards anymore that could modify JumpShips on order. The wars made them priority targets to such an extent that
1. WarShips were made extinct,
2. JumpShips were considered to be too precious to damage and it was estimated that across the thousands of worlds in the Inner Sphere, new JumpShip production per year was only about 12.
The Monolith-class JumpShip was the largest civilian JumpShip ever constructed. Sure, WarShips could go over a million tons, but the Monolith at 430,000 tons and nine Drop Collars to bring along DropShips through interstellar space was hardly a tiny thing either.
The Monolith-class was so large it had two counter-rotating 105-meter diameter grav dects. They rotated to provide the feeling of 1 gravity at the inside rim due to centripetal force. Without it, long-term habitation of the JumpShip was impossible, as a JumpShip lacked fuel reserves or any necessary acceleration to move in towards the system.
These gravdecks, functioning similarly to that of a station, spun at a leisurely 4 rotations per minute - slow enough that even ground-side visitors and their inner ear can adapt with only a day or two of acclimatization.
Whole families, whole generations, lived and died on Jumpships that were often centuries old. Without them, interstellar civilization would grind to a deadly halt.
Imagine, never knowing the ground.
Imagine, being stuck for a year with bored landlubbers.
The last time this needed to happen was when the entire Eridani Light Horse had to move from Steiner space to Davion space, but that was two decades ago.
"How much longer is this going to take?" asked the pilot.
The Captain, for reasons of operational security, could not answer that. He could only say "We're not even halfway there-" to the many groans of the crew.
-.
-.
Kaiyuh System
Crucis March
Federated Commonwealth
Date unknown
Kaiyuh was a moderately advanced world, only a single jump away from the capital of the Crucis March Edgeward Alpha Combat Theater, otherwise known as the Chirikof Operational Area. This region of space used to be controlled by the United Hindu Collective, which voluntarily joined the Federated Suns in 2540. The Star League, for comparison, was founded in 2571.
Although the system was far enough away from any war border with House Kurita, House Liao, or even House Calderon, it did possess a recharge station at the Nadir point which could house defensive fighters.
The SLS JumpShip ARENDAL emerging at the Zenith point was suspicious, as it could get a clear run to the planet.
The Captain had to talk away at sixteen minutes delay radio calls from the planetary monitoring stations that they had no hostile intentions and were only recharging for the next jump. Emerging at the nadir point for recharging was irrelevant, the charge times between the solar sail and trickle charging from a station were the same anyway.
They dutifully had to reveal the name and registry of their JumpShip and the high-level authorization from the AFFS.
Why couldn't they just turn off their transponder? Because that is a pirate thing to do. It would be even more suspicious that a massive vessel like a Monolith is going around without declaring their registry. At least with ELH credentials and mostly empty collars, the most that could be said was that they were off to a sanctioned AFFS operation somewhere and people should stop asking.
"If there's anybody listening in, if the Taurian Concordat have any agents at all at Chirikof, they would know about the Eridani Light Horse and they would be sure now we're headed towards Taurian space. JumpShip sightings are open-source information," the Captain reported to the highest ranking Eridani Light Horse officer on board.
Who just happened to be Major Edward Stimson of Stimson's Stealther's Recon Company.
"At least we're now halfway there," he sighed.
-.
-.
He recalled:
"Sir, with all respect, you can't be serious. You can't stick MechWarriors specialized in Recon into a dropship for a year - they'll lose their edge!"
Brevet General Armstrong shook his head slowly and raised a palm. "Major, you already know where the cache is. And let's be honest here - as much as you like being able to quickly reposition with your Scout Company, you got badly slapped down by the Dragoons. That's nothing against you, it's just that you don't have the tonnage to solve that kind of problem."
"So you're saying this because I'm expendable…" he sighed. "We can't help the Light Horse fight as we are now."
"You're Dark Horse and I trust you. And whatever happens out there, you have the ability and the mindset to deal with it. I'll reassign some high-firepower Medium Mechs to fill out your company, but remember - this is the most important thing for the whole of the Eridani Light Horse since we decided to allow lending our services as mercenaries two and half centuries ago."
"It's that important? Two regiments of fast Mechs are nice, but even as I want them, that sounds too much for what we're getting."
"There's more at stake here than I'm able to say. But if it's true - what you will find there will change the Inner Sphere forever. If it's true."
And at the present, he thought "I should spread this misery around."
-.
-.
The SLS ARENDAL had two grav decks. One was mainly for JumpShip personnel and their families and internal technical facilities. It was their home. But it was only in the past two hundred years that this needed to happen; originally designed she was an SLDF troop transport instead of a commercial civilian DropShip.
Its grav-decks were 105 meters in diameter and 15 meters in breadth at the rim. This worked out to about 326 meters walking circumference at the rim and almost 4 kilometers square of floor space. And it wasn't like a grav deck was hollow all the way to the core.
The outermost rim deck was the most important as it gave the full 1g experience at 4 revolutions per minute. This deck was subdivided into three portions with a 3-meter wide corridor in the middle. Two communal areas, and two berthing sections. A pie chart was the easiest way to visualize this. 15%, 35%, 15%, 35%. One 31 meter long section, followed by a 132-meter long section further subdivided into 18 rooms with 7 bunks each, then another 31 meter dining and entertainment area, then another 18 rooms. This was sufficient for 126 (252) people in standard berthing. If necessary, a third bunk bed could be wedged in there to allow for 126 more soldiers and personnel to find rest.
With two such grav deck arrangements, the ship had maximum sleeping facilities for 504 people.
The next deck above that, stacked like the floor of a building over a 10-meter tall 'roof', had a circumference of 263 meters and would experience .80 g, still comfortable enough. This one had first-class/officer quarters, apartment-like quarters for one or two persons with built-in lavatory facilities and personal storage, communal bathing/swimming pool, and the kitchens.
Then the third layer above that, 32 meters away from the core, would still be rotating at 4 rpm same as the outermost deck, but those inside would be experiencing .57 gs. Feeling half the weight of everything, this deck would only have 201 meters circumference and would often be used for machine shops and storage. Steerage berthing, usually little more than suspended hammock/sleeping bags could be placed here, but most people if given a choice would rather sleep out in the corridors of the outer deck if you really needed to cram in the number of inhabitants.
Then going inwards would be motorized handrails to enter the corridors leading to the next gravdeck, at minimal gravity.
Grav Deck One, forward towards the prow of the ship, was the home deck. Grav Deck Two was for passengers.
In addition to shipboard crew, in theory a Star League Navy Monolith could support an entire Battalion of troops and crew, which could be anywhere from three hundred to one thousand individuals.
Here was the pilot's problem and why he thought it crowded: Eridani Light Horse soldiers were considered family by default and were not numerous enough that they had to stay out in the external deck. The duration of travel was long enough that they could not keep separate berthing; might as well get to know each other to stave off boredom.
On board were 6th Recon Battalion (Stimson's Stealther's) of the 151st Dark Horse Regiment, composed of the Command Lance (Stimson's Guards), 2nd Recon Company (Nightcrawlers) Command Lance and Strike Lance, and the company's Air Lance composed of two Heavy ASF. This was a total of 12 Mechs and 2 ASF, plus tech crew, all fitting into one Union and Mule. 6th Recon left behind the 4th and 8th Recon Companies of the Battalion, plus all the support tanks and artillery. They were a mech-heavy force, and unlike tanks which needed three or more crew, each BattleMech needed only one MechWarrior pilot. All of these fit on one 3600-ton Union, which had their own crew and techs.
Then the 11,200-ton Mule in the opposite collar had their own 20 crew and more techs and drivers for recovery and transport vehicles.
In total: sixty-four people.
There were sixty-four bored-ass people onboard and it had been four months. People had gone insane on shorter durations.
-.
-.
The children had the run of the ship.
But because they could not be left unsupervised, everyone had breakfast at the Mess Deck. Because the floor curved 'up' it was convenient for one end of the communal area to have one massive flat projector screen for TV and movie showings.
From the screen and the speakers around the dining area rousing trumpets blared and a deep voice announced:
o- From days of long ago
o- From uncharted regions
o- Of the universe,
o- Comes a legend.
o- The legend of Voltron:
o- Defender of the Universe!
o- A mighty robot,
o- Loved by good
o- Feared by evil.
o- As Voltron's legend grew,
o- Peace settled across the galaxy -
"Yaahhh!!!" the JumpShip's children happily greeted the intro to this ancient cartoon show. They occupied the tables closest to the screen.
Further back, looking at them, sat some of the pilots of 2nd Recon: Jack Finsrud, Terry Lyttle, and Barbara Mosley.
"I think Exosquad is better," said Jack as he sliced into his pancake.
"Ugh, you would," Barbara groaned. "They're basically just tiny Mechs."
Jack pointed with his fork. "Well what about you then? What do like then, Miss Discerning? The ancient wisdom of Dragon Ball? The timeless pathos of Sailor Moon? The gripping war records of GI Joe?"
This whole thing would probably be far more maddening if it didn't come mysteriously with a large bank of positively ancient lost media from the 20th century Terra. General Armstrong knew that morale was influenced by food and drink, so spared no expense to load up the JumpShip with a large supply of the highest quality consumables.
But in over four months with nothing to do but to watch things, exercise, train in sim pods, sleep, wake up to do nothing but to be paid to sit around, day after day after day seeing the same walls, they had mostly run out of things to talk about.
There was a rumor that the offices had advance screenings of newer stuff in straight sessions of newer stuff instead of waiting for them to come out in the schedule.
"The Centurions," said Barbara.
Jack Finsrud blinked. "Okay, that is a solid choice, I can accept that."
Terry began humming "Da dooh da duh da dee de. Du dat du dat duh da dee dih! They're heroes in a half shell and they're green-!"
"Oh you suck!" Barbara hissed at him and covered her ears. "Now that earworm is going to get stuck in my head for the next hour!"
A triumphant cadence filled the room again.
The children over at the far end spoke along with the dialog "LET'S GO VOLTRON FORCE!"
Lions roared. Lightning shrieked. A snare drum spun out a heart-pounding beat.
o- "Form feet and legs-
o- "Form arms and torso-
o- "And I'll form - the head!"
o- Roar. Roar!
The children made "RAWR!" noises.
"Ugh, I hate kids," moaned Barbara.
"It's a rerun," said Terry. The man was not so little, nor even ironically large. He was just so sadly average. "Children are fine with themed day reruns, it's like an emotional re-awakening. Or are you talking about how you got us baited into this detached duty?"
"Just because I welcomed that kid into the Eridani Light Horse-"
"Ahem. Because you sat into some sensitive information you're not even telling us about -" grunted Jack.
"This is good for you anyways, isn't it? By the time we get back, people will have forgotten all about you being that girl who got beat by an Urbanmech in a race," Terry said with a gentle smile.
Barabara let out some deep gurgling sound from the back of her throat and seemed only half-convinced.
"Good morning, troopers!"
"Sir!"
The three MechWarriors stopped and stood up as soon as they heard their lance commander's voice from behind them. Captain Raymond Allwine slashed down the air with a knife hand. He was a very proper officer and enforced discipline, but he was just always so unbearably nice about it all. "Ease off, crew. I'm just here to tell you we're all supposed to report to the sim pods at Oh Eight Thirty. We've got another team-based scenario training coming."
Barbara grimaced and murmured "Okay, that's interesting, but please not -"
"That's right, boys and girls! IT'S URBIE TIME!"
"Nuuuu….!!!"
-.
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Macintosh System
Crucis March
Federated Commonwealth
Date unknown
Macintosh was originally named Drekos by its predominantly Greek settlers, however the planet's name was changed to Macintosh during the time of the Star League when Apple Computers Interstellar made the planet their headquarters. The world which shared a name with the system was advanced and heavily industrialized with an A-rated HPG.
People on board the ship could use this chance with a high speed connection to get updated from the Inner Sphere and download newer holomagazines and vids.
"Are we there yet?"
-.
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Jacobabad System
Crucis March
Federated Commonwealth
Date unknown
Another abandoned system, the namesake world Jacobabad had a breathable atmosphere, a year length of 1.7 Terran years, and surface gravity of around .95g. Even the distance to the jump point was only 12 days. It was a mystery why they abandoned what would otherwise be a good farming world.
"Are we there yet?"
-.
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Csomad System
Crucis March
Federated Commonwealth
Date unknown
A mining world with a toxic atmosphere and surface gravity of 1.16 g, it was nonetheless still settled with a population of 68 million. However this was far enough in the Outback that HPG service didn't even exist. They had a 'Pony Express' system when a JumpShip would show up every three months or so.
"Are we there yet?"
-.
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Dumassas System
Unclaimed Space
The Periphery
Date unknown
Situated 2 AU away from its parent star, Dumassas was a cold world with a year length of 3 and 1/2 Terran years, but it had a breathable atmosphere and a surface gravity of .95 g. They were now out of Davion Space and were one jump away from violating the Taurian Concordat border.
"Are we there yet?"
"Yes, we are fucking there yet!"
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---------------------------------------------------------------------------
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Lynchburg
Abandoned System
Federated Commonwealth
Date unknown
The JumpShip SLS ARENDAL hung motionless in space with its wide Jump Sail deployed behind it, billowing from the pressure of invisible solar wind. The ship had to wait a full 178 hours to recharge its Jump Core.
The Captain of the Monolith glanced boredly down at the system's information.
Even inside the Crucis March, there were dead and abandoned worlds. Although a great bulk of them were lost in the chaos and murder of the first two Succession Wars, plenty of other worlds were also abandoned for economic reasons.
They were approaching the area of Davion space known as the Outback, where the income divide was even more stark, where the might and prosperity of the Federated Suns were absent. These were forgotten, poverty-stricken worlds, where you might find a single school for an entire planet.
The Federated Suns didn't care for them. Even a mighty nation with the largest and most well-trained military in the Inner Sphere could not divert any resources into improving their lives - or rather, one might imagine that the reason the Outback was such a region of the lost and forgotten was that everything important had to go towards the military.
When you had the Draconis Combine with their total war footing constantly trying to invade and destroy your culture with their all-conquering Imperial Japanese fantasy obsession, weakening the military was a nonstarter.
As soon as you get up, you get knocked down. No one was allowed to keep an advantage. That was the reason for all these cross-border raidings. Depots. Industries. Power plants. Water purifiers. All had become valid military targets.
Lynchburg had a world with 1.08 g surface gravity, an orbital period of 2.9 Terran years, and high equatorial temperature of 36 degrees. To live here, they needed domes.
"With a poisonous atmosphere, it's no wonder this place got abandoned," he muttered to himself. "Before this was Korvitz, another lost world. After this it's Covington, with B-rated HPG. Anyone tracking us would be two weeks out of date."
A-Rated HPG stations transmitted and relayed information from systems around them every 12 to 24 hours. B-rated stations transmitted every few days.
The Eridani Light JumpShip operated under military rules, not commercial ones. Other JumpShips holding station on the Nadir and Zenith Jump Points could read usually read each other's IFF, exchange gossip and electronic media, and tattle about it when they reach the next system. The ELH wasn't obliged to file a jump plan when asked by an inhabited world in a system for them to squawk out via HPG (as filing regular jump paths was important for civilian trade and transport), but it was convenient anyway to use a dead world for the shortest jump path.
Commercial JumpShips avoided dead systems as a rule, because with no one else to notice it was a perfect pirate ambush spot.
"Poor earthbound sods," said the pilot. Even if a JumpShip had .1g station-keeping drives that could not get it anywhere, a pilot was still needed to do careful precise work like aligning the JumpShip carefully towards the star to deploy the Jump Sail cleanly, or to shift facings to present anti-meteor armament."Why do people have to be so fixated on planets, anyway? Trying to settle all these barely habitable worlds, for what? A station would be easier."
"Stations have a maximum capacity," replied the Captain. "You can't just keep adding more blocks to a station, grav decks and life support become too unbalanced after a while. But even the poorest rock in space if it has anything close to 1 g. That's what makes a planet worth the hassle."
"What, sheer mass?"
"We are monkeys clawing at the stars, but in the end this monkey just isn't made to live in zero-g. I haven't set foot on a world in thirty years now, and I don't miss it one bit. But without our grav deck… no, the entire Inner Sphere wouldn't function if JumpShips couldn't support their crew."
"Ugh, we're crowded enough as it is. If only we could expand and build in more grav decks."
Unfortunately that was not how JumpShips worked, what with 95% of their mass required to be the germanium Jump Core that allowed them to travel 30-light years per week, and there were no shipyards anymore that could modify JumpShips on order. The wars made them priority targets to such an extent that
1. WarShips were made extinct,
2. JumpShips were considered to be too precious to damage and it was estimated that across the thousands of worlds in the Inner Sphere, new JumpShip production per year was only about 12.
The Monolith-class JumpShip was the largest civilian JumpShip ever constructed. Sure, WarShips could go over a million tons, but the Monolith at 430,000 tons and nine Drop Collars to bring along DropShips through interstellar space was hardly a tiny thing either.
The Monolith-class was so large it had two counter-rotating 105-meter diameter grav dects. They rotated to provide the feeling of 1 gravity at the inside rim due to centripetal force. Without it, long-term habitation of the JumpShip was impossible, as a JumpShip lacked fuel reserves or any necessary acceleration to move in towards the system.
These gravdecks, functioning similarly to that of a station, spun at a leisurely 4 rotations per minute - slow enough that even ground-side visitors and their inner ear can adapt with only a day or two of acclimatization.
Whole families, whole generations, lived and died on Jumpships that were often centuries old. Without them, interstellar civilization would grind to a deadly halt.
Imagine, never knowing the ground.
Imagine, being stuck for a year with bored landlubbers.
The last time this needed to happen was when the entire Eridani Light Horse had to move from Steiner space to Davion space, but that was two decades ago.
"How much longer is this going to take?" asked the pilot.
The Captain, for reasons of operational security, could not answer that. He could only say "We're not even halfway there-" to the many groans of the crew.
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Kaiyuh System
Crucis March
Federated Commonwealth
Date unknown
Kaiyuh was a moderately advanced world, only a single jump away from the capital of the Crucis March Edgeward Alpha Combat Theater, otherwise known as the Chirikof Operational Area. This region of space used to be controlled by the United Hindu Collective, which voluntarily joined the Federated Suns in 2540. The Star League, for comparison, was founded in 2571.
Although the system was far enough away from any war border with House Kurita, House Liao, or even House Calderon, it did possess a recharge station at the Nadir point which could house defensive fighters.
The SLS JumpShip ARENDAL emerging at the Zenith point was suspicious, as it could get a clear run to the planet.
The Captain had to talk away at sixteen minutes delay radio calls from the planetary monitoring stations that they had no hostile intentions and were only recharging for the next jump. Emerging at the nadir point for recharging was irrelevant, the charge times between the solar sail and trickle charging from a station were the same anyway.
They dutifully had to reveal the name and registry of their JumpShip and the high-level authorization from the AFFS.
Why couldn't they just turn off their transponder? Because that is a pirate thing to do. It would be even more suspicious that a massive vessel like a Monolith is going around without declaring their registry. At least with ELH credentials and mostly empty collars, the most that could be said was that they were off to a sanctioned AFFS operation somewhere and people should stop asking.
"If there's anybody listening in, if the Taurian Concordat have any agents at all at Chirikof, they would know about the Eridani Light Horse and they would be sure now we're headed towards Taurian space. JumpShip sightings are open-source information," the Captain reported to the highest ranking Eridani Light Horse officer on board.
Who just happened to be Major Edward Stimson of Stimson's Stealther's Recon Company.
"At least we're now halfway there," he sighed.
-.
-.
He recalled:
"Sir, with all respect, you can't be serious. You can't stick MechWarriors specialized in Recon into a dropship for a year - they'll lose their edge!"
Brevet General Armstrong shook his head slowly and raised a palm. "Major, you already know where the cache is. And let's be honest here - as much as you like being able to quickly reposition with your Scout Company, you got badly slapped down by the Dragoons. That's nothing against you, it's just that you don't have the tonnage to solve that kind of problem."
"So you're saying this because I'm expendable…" he sighed. "We can't help the Light Horse fight as we are now."
"You're Dark Horse and I trust you. And whatever happens out there, you have the ability and the mindset to deal with it. I'll reassign some high-firepower Medium Mechs to fill out your company, but remember - this is the most important thing for the whole of the Eridani Light Horse since we decided to allow lending our services as mercenaries two and half centuries ago."
"It's that important? Two regiments of fast Mechs are nice, but even as I want them, that sounds too much for what we're getting."
"There's more at stake here than I'm able to say. But if it's true - what you will find there will change the Inner Sphere forever. If it's true."
And at the present, he thought "I should spread this misery around."
-.
-.
The SLS ARENDAL had two grav decks. One was mainly for JumpShip personnel and their families and internal technical facilities. It was their home. But it was only in the past two hundred years that this needed to happen; originally designed she was an SLDF troop transport instead of a commercial civilian DropShip.
Its grav-decks were 105 meters in diameter and 15 meters in breadth at the rim. This worked out to about 326 meters walking circumference at the rim and almost 4 kilometers square of floor space. And it wasn't like a grav deck was hollow all the way to the core.
The outermost rim deck was the most important as it gave the full 1g experience at 4 revolutions per minute. This deck was subdivided into three portions with a 3-meter wide corridor in the middle. Two communal areas, and two berthing sections. A pie chart was the easiest way to visualize this. 15%, 35%, 15%, 35%. One 31 meter long section, followed by a 132-meter long section further subdivided into 18 rooms with 7 bunks each, then another 31 meter dining and entertainment area, then another 18 rooms. This was sufficient for 126 (252) people in standard berthing. If necessary, a third bunk bed could be wedged in there to allow for 126 more soldiers and personnel to find rest.
With two such grav deck arrangements, the ship had maximum sleeping facilities for 504 people.
The next deck above that, stacked like the floor of a building over a 10-meter tall 'roof', had a circumference of 263 meters and would experience .80 g, still comfortable enough. This one had first-class/officer quarters, apartment-like quarters for one or two persons with built-in lavatory facilities and personal storage, communal bathing/swimming pool, and the kitchens.
Then the third layer above that, 32 meters away from the core, would still be rotating at 4 rpm same as the outermost deck, but those inside would be experiencing .57 gs. Feeling half the weight of everything, this deck would only have 201 meters circumference and would often be used for machine shops and storage. Steerage berthing, usually little more than suspended hammock/sleeping bags could be placed here, but most people if given a choice would rather sleep out in the corridors of the outer deck if you really needed to cram in the number of inhabitants.
Then going inwards would be motorized handrails to enter the corridors leading to the next gravdeck, at minimal gravity.
Grav Deck One, forward towards the prow of the ship, was the home deck. Grav Deck Two was for passengers.
In addition to shipboard crew, in theory a Star League Navy Monolith could support an entire Battalion of troops and crew, which could be anywhere from three hundred to one thousand individuals.
Here was the pilot's problem and why he thought it crowded: Eridani Light Horse soldiers were considered family by default and were not numerous enough that they had to stay out in the external deck. The duration of travel was long enough that they could not keep separate berthing; might as well get to know each other to stave off boredom.
On board were 6th Recon Battalion (Stimson's Stealther's) of the 151st Dark Horse Regiment, composed of the Command Lance (Stimson's Guards), 2nd Recon Company (Nightcrawlers) Command Lance and Strike Lance, and the company's Air Lance composed of two Heavy ASF. This was a total of 12 Mechs and 2 ASF, plus tech crew, all fitting into one Union and Mule. 6th Recon left behind the 4th and 8th Recon Companies of the Battalion, plus all the support tanks and artillery. They were a mech-heavy force, and unlike tanks which needed three or more crew, each BattleMech needed only one MechWarrior pilot. All of these fit on one 3600-ton Union, which had their own crew and techs.
Then the 11,200-ton Mule in the opposite collar had their own 20 crew and more techs and drivers for recovery and transport vehicles.
In total: sixty-four people.
There were sixty-four bored-ass people onboard and it had been four months. People had gone insane on shorter durations.
-.
-.
The children had the run of the ship.
But because they could not be left unsupervised, everyone had breakfast at the Mess Deck. Because the floor curved 'up' it was convenient for one end of the communal area to have one massive flat projector screen for TV and movie showings.
From the screen and the speakers around the dining area rousing trumpets blared and a deep voice announced:
o- From days of long ago
o- From uncharted regions
o- Of the universe,
o- Comes a legend.
o- The legend of Voltron:
o- Defender of the Universe!
o- A mighty robot,
o- Loved by good
o- Feared by evil.
o- As Voltron's legend grew,
o- Peace settled across the galaxy -
"Yaahhh!!!" the JumpShip's children happily greeted the intro to this ancient cartoon show. They occupied the tables closest to the screen.
Further back, looking at them, sat some of the pilots of 2nd Recon: Jack Finsrud, Terry Lyttle, and Barbara Mosley.
"I think Exosquad is better," said Jack as he sliced into his pancake.
"Ugh, you would," Barbara groaned. "They're basically just tiny Mechs."
Jack pointed with his fork. "Well what about you then? What do like then, Miss Discerning? The ancient wisdom of Dragon Ball? The timeless pathos of Sailor Moon? The gripping war records of GI Joe?"
This whole thing would probably be far more maddening if it didn't come mysteriously with a large bank of positively ancient lost media from the 20th century Terra. General Armstrong knew that morale was influenced by food and drink, so spared no expense to load up the JumpShip with a large supply of the highest quality consumables.
But in over four months with nothing to do but to watch things, exercise, train in sim pods, sleep, wake up to do nothing but to be paid to sit around, day after day after day seeing the same walls, they had mostly run out of things to talk about.
There was a rumor that the offices had advance screenings of newer stuff in straight sessions of newer stuff instead of waiting for them to come out in the schedule.
"The Centurions," said Barbara.
Jack Finsrud blinked. "Okay, that is a solid choice, I can accept that."
Terry began humming "Da dooh da duh da dee de. Du dat du dat duh da dee dih! They're heroes in a half shell and they're green-!"
"Oh you suck!" Barbara hissed at him and covered her ears. "Now that earworm is going to get stuck in my head for the next hour!"
A triumphant cadence filled the room again.
The children over at the far end spoke along with the dialog "LET'S GO VOLTRON FORCE!"
Lions roared. Lightning shrieked. A snare drum spun out a heart-pounding beat.
o- "Form feet and legs-
o- "Form arms and torso-
o- "And I'll form - the head!"
o- Roar. Roar!
The children made "RAWR!" noises.
"Ugh, I hate kids," moaned Barbara.
"It's a rerun," said Terry. The man was not so little, nor even ironically large. He was just so sadly average. "Children are fine with themed day reruns, it's like an emotional re-awakening. Or are you talking about how you got us baited into this detached duty?"
"Just because I welcomed that kid into the Eridani Light Horse-"
"Ahem. Because you sat into some sensitive information you're not even telling us about -" grunted Jack.
"This is good for you anyways, isn't it? By the time we get back, people will have forgotten all about you being that girl who got beat by an Urbanmech in a race," Terry said with a gentle smile.
Barabara let out some deep gurgling sound from the back of her throat and seemed only half-convinced.
"Good morning, troopers!"
"Sir!"
The three MechWarriors stopped and stood up as soon as they heard their lance commander's voice from behind them. Captain Raymond Allwine slashed down the air with a knife hand. He was a very proper officer and enforced discipline, but he was just always so unbearably nice about it all. "Ease off, crew. I'm just here to tell you we're all supposed to report to the sim pods at Oh Eight Thirty. We've got another team-based scenario training coming."
Barbara grimaced and murmured "Okay, that's interesting, but please not -"
"That's right, boys and girls! IT'S URBIE TIME!"
"Nuuuu….!!!"
-.
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Macintosh System
Crucis March
Federated Commonwealth
Date unknown
Macintosh was originally named Drekos by its predominantly Greek settlers, however the planet's name was changed to Macintosh during the time of the Star League when Apple Computers Interstellar made the planet their headquarters. The world which shared a name with the system was advanced and heavily industrialized with an A-rated HPG.
People on board the ship could use this chance with a high speed connection to get updated from the Inner Sphere and download newer holomagazines and vids.
"Are we there yet?"
-.
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Jacobabad System
Crucis March
Federated Commonwealth
Date unknown
Another abandoned system, the namesake world Jacobabad had a breathable atmosphere, a year length of 1.7 Terran years, and surface gravity of around .95g. Even the distance to the jump point was only 12 days. It was a mystery why they abandoned what would otherwise be a good farming world.
"Are we there yet?"
-.
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Csomad System
Crucis March
Federated Commonwealth
Date unknown
A mining world with a toxic atmosphere and surface gravity of 1.16 g, it was nonetheless still settled with a population of 68 million. However this was far enough in the Outback that HPG service didn't even exist. They had a 'Pony Express' system when a JumpShip would show up every three months or so.
"Are we there yet?"
-.
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Dumassas System
Unclaimed Space
The Periphery
Date unknown
Situated 2 AU away from its parent star, Dumassas was a cold world with a year length of 3 and 1/2 Terran years, but it had a breathable atmosphere and a surface gravity of .95 g. They were now out of Davion Space and were one jump away from violating the Taurian Concordat border.
"Are we there yet?"
"Yes, we are fucking there yet!"
-.
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4.2 Raiders of the Lost Urbie
bluepencil
The tropics will be uninhabitable.
- Joined
- Feb 19, 2013
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Anderson Continent
Dumassas
The Periphery
Date unknown
Dumassas was 78% water with several stringy landmasses, with only Anderson and Leon near the equator good for permanent habitation with a mean equatorial temperature of 19 degrees. Saint-Robert City was the world capital. It was an irradiated ruin.
The Union DropShip SLS CLAY landed about eighty kilometers northwest of Saint-Robert city and disgorged its company of Mechs - a full three lances. Carefully they followed the directions provided to a small snow-covered valley. The Mule DropShip FLDS BARTERTOWN remained in holding orbit. Two Eagle Heavy Fighters launched from the Union to provide air cover.
Edward Stimson raised the hand of his Devish BattleMech. At 55 tons with a top speed of 86 km/h, it was had a similar speed profile as preferred 30-ton Valkyrie, but with a heavier load in missile fire support role. His Command Lance included two Valkyries and a 40-ton Clint.
There were no changes made to the loadout of 2nd Recon company, which consisted of a command lance and a strike lance. Captain Raymond Allwine piloted a 55-ton Wolverine, with Jack Finsrud's 40-ton anti-infantry Vulcan BattleMech, Terry Little's 50-ton Enforcer armed with a Large Laser and an Autocannon/10 for anti-Mech work, and Barbara Mosley's fast 45-ton Phoenix Hawk to round out the lance.
Strike Lance was led by Lickin Graspkoot, and yes that was his real name, piloting a 35-ton Ostscout, with a 30-ton Valkyrie, a 20-ton Stinger, and 20-ton Wasp, which could easily hit over 120kph.
"Still nothing on sensors, Major," responded Lt. Gus Avery as he circled the skies above.
"Maintain Combat Air Patrol," Maj. Stimson ordered. He then turned around to address his company, waving the Mech's right arm for emphasis. "Pick a side and search, but be careful. If I wanted to hide something, I wouldn't lay booby traps to tell people there's something there. But if they already know there's something there, I'd want my traps to start activating to make them fuck off right quick."
The two lances separated and walked slowly into the glacier-carved valley, his command lance following.
Eventually the valley opened out into a bend, with one following the source of the thin river and the other leading down into a fjord with a series of oxbow lakes.
"This looks suspicious, sir," said Captain Allwine. "If we were the SLDF, and I wanted to hide launchers for a DropShip, I'd hide them under water."
"Good point. Then we should be double careful," replied Maj. Stimpson.
-.
The three lances went down the left downhill bend until they reached the first lake. They kept an eye on their magscan sensors. Water could also easily hide minefields or sentry turrets. The waters looked crystal clear, reflecting the sky perfectly, only here and there showing the stones beneath. Maj. Stimson broadcasted the authentication signal he was given on open radio frequency.
Nothing.
Gingerly the twelve mechs walked in single file around the edge of the waters until they reached the next lake. Maj. Stimpson broadcast again. This time he spoke "Authenticate Stone Eggplant Latitude Mango, Three, Three, One, Over." The authentication signal was composed of a digitally encrypted string and a passcode.
He received a brief electronic bleep, and nothing else.
This did imply they were on the right track. The lance moved to the next lake, and beyond it a deep fjord going all the way to the ocean.
"Authenticate Stone Eggplant Latitude Mango, Three, Three, One, Over."
Three short bleeps was the response. The surface of the lake rippled. Something large and rectangular rose out of the water. It was a signboard on a pole.
The lance warily readied their weapons and locked on. Major Stimpson zoomed in. Then he sighed.
"What's it?" someone asked idly.
"Clear the frequency on non-essential chatter," said Captain Allwine. Then he zoomed in with his own sensors, and then also sighed heavily.
The sign said:
- TURN AROUND.
- YOU ARE GOING
- THE WRONG WAY.
"Well that's encouraging," said Jack Finsrud.
"Wait, sir!" Barbara Mosley spoke up quickly. "What if it's a bluff?"
Major Stimson paused. He didn't think the SLDF would play games like that, but said again "Authenticate Stone, Eggplant, Latitude, Mango, Three, Three, One, Over."
The signboard rotated.
On the other side was:
- SLDF AUTHENTICATED.
- THIS IS NOT THE WAY.
Then his radio received a synthetic voice replying "Authenticated. Star League Defense Forces Three Hundred Thirty First Battle Regiment. Authentication code Sonic. Tails. Cherry. Diamond. Pearl. Respond."
He replied "Authenticate, Hedgehog. Fox. Rumbler. Ruby. Sapphire."
The voice returned "Accepted. Primary defenses deactivated. Turn around. You are going the wrong way."
The signboard retreated back into the blank depths.
"All right. Turn around…" the Major said. "Let's get this done."
As the twelve mechs moved, Jack Finsrud said over comms "Captain, permission to engage in nonessential chatter over the lance frequency?"
Capt. Allwine clicked on his radio to confer with the Major, and then came back with "You are clear to proceed."
So Jack clicked his radio to the 'open' mode and said "Like I was saying, you can't just apply it as a metaphor. The Avatar does have strong similarity to the SLDF as a peacekeeper among wildly different nations, yes. Sure, the Fire Nation is easy to conflate with the Draconis Combine, but the Earth Nation isn't a clear stand-in for the Lyran Commonwealth. The Air Nomads and the Water Tribe don't have any parallels to what we see today.
"That more than anything proves this was made way back during the Terran Alliance days... "
-.
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The Mechs went uphill until the valley narrowed to the point Mechs could only pass one at a time. Then it opened out again to a small clearing in front of a waterfall.
"Oh, the hidden base behind the waterfall!" Barbara chirped. "That's a classic!"
Major Stimson spoke again: "Authenticate Stone, Eggplant, Latitude, Mango, Three, Three, One, Over."
A voice, no longer the clearly artificial generic female voice of a computer, but a male one filled with energy but still containing that electronic buzz. "Eridani Light Horse, I presume?"
"This is Major Stimson of the Eridani Light Horse, yes. Who is this?"
"This is Robotnik. Did you bring my son?"
Stimson let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. Oh thank whoever, they had not wasted five whole goddamn months just getting to this abandoned rock.
"No. As you requested, he is busy with Combat Training."
"Excellent. If the Eridani Light Horse could not even fulfill such a simple requirement, then there's no hope for their competence to handle the rest of my gifts. Hang on. For now, let me welcome you to SLDF EXPEDITIONARY SUPPORT FACILITY PORT STONE."
The ground rumbled beneath them. Then it began to hitch, and with a metallic groan, sink.
"Holy shit, this whole thing is an elevator!" Barbara squealed excitedly.
Twelve mechs descended into darkness. In the distance they heard hard mechanical clangs of flood lights turning on. Red eyes watched them from the dark. As they turned on the driving lights of their Mechs, they found gun turrets recessed into the shaft. The gunsights followed them as the elevator descended, but the guns failed to deploy.
Then, the view opened up.
Behind the armored glass walls of the elevator they saw a massive semi-spherical cavern. Clang. Clang. Clang. The lights turned on to reveal its full size. Approximately three hundred meters underground, and almost a kilometer wide, this was a hemispherical geofront - an excavated space made for habitation and/or manufacturing.
There was a section that elongated out like a stadium, then a rounded area at the end with walls that sloped up before converging into a dome, oddly evocative of the Great Roman Colosseum.
It was large enough to have its own indoor park, it was large enough to park Overlord-sized dropships and still have twice the height to spare, it was large enough to have its own micro-climate. The rows of buildings laid out in the grid gave the illusion of deeper space. Walls and blast shields surrounded the spaceport area at the far end. The roof of the cavern was a smooth white dome, and subtle blue lighting gave the impression of a sky.
Just the sight of it made their hearts skip the beat. Some of them shivered with uncontrollable emotion. This place -
Seven great dropships sat in a half-circle on the far end on rail platforms that could move them each in their thousands of tons onto a launch pad elevator.
Utilitarian buildings crowded the side walls of the base, but laid out in a sensible grid surrounding the central space. Everything was painted a clean and pristine white, shining under the halogen lights. The sight of it all was dominated by the symbol laid into the ferrocrete at the center of the facility - a four-pointed star with two elongated rays, and four more rays at ring angles behind.
The Cameron Star.
The icon of the Star League.
A group of distinctively shaped Mechs stood in formation on the way to the starport area. Eight Mechs per section separated into two four-unit rank, eight sections long, that was sixty-four mechs standing at attention.
The elevator came to a stop.
A small spherical walker machine waited at the foot of the elevator. Painted bright red on top and black in the lower half, it looked up at the war machines and waved with its arms ending in oversized hands.
"ERIDANI LIGHT HORSE! WELCOME, LOYAL CHILDREN OF THE STAR LEAGUE!." The robotic walker spun around as if dancing. "EVERYTHING YOU SEE HERE BELONGS TO YOU NOW."
"Holy shit!" it was unknown which MechWarrior gasped, but it was a sentiment they all shared. "Seriously?!"
"SINCERELY."
"You knew about this…" Jack hissed at Barbara through the comms.
Barbara looked around, boggling. On each side of the receiving area were two blank walls that had images projected onto them from below. On the left was the symbol of the SLDF, below that a map of the entire united Star League right before the usurpation of Amaris. Upon the other, the plumed helmet of the XIX Army and below that the six-pointed star of the LXV Corps. Nineteenth Army, Sixty-Fifth Corps, a record of a time when a single Army like this designed to keep the peace in the Taurian Concordat was composed of a mere one hundred and forty regiments.
This underground city, for much of his childhood, Devlin Stone lived here with no other company than his father and some robots to simulate social interaction.
"Not like this. I didn't imagine this…"
-.
-.
The Mechs disembarked from the elevator, which after thirty seconds detecting no weight began to rise up again with a fitful groan.
Nearby were rows of Mech gantries where MechWarriors could park their BattleMechs. The small spherical walker hopped back to give them room. Major Stimson walked his Dervish over to one of them, and the pad beneath his feet rotated the whole Mech to face the other way. The Mech Bay detected the location of his hatch, and lowered a walkway to the proper height.
Stimson took off the heavy bucket-like neurohelmet from his head and tried to calm the shaking in his hands by clenching them repeatedly into fists. It did not help.
He popped the cockpit hatch and exited his mech. The air in this facility tasted faintly like ozone. He paused standing on the walkway for a moment. It was high enough that he could still see the shining Cameron Star behind the rows of lostech Urbanmechs standing as if on parade.
The Mechs were irrelevant for the moment.
This was the Star League. This place - was a relic of their glory.
This place was glory itself.
As a man of the Eridani Light Horse, he thought it should feel like coming home - but he felt like an intruder trespassing onto a holy place.
He raised a hand and gestured for the rest of the lance to disembark but for one lance to remain in their Mechs at combat ready.
The walkway lowered so he could step off, and he faced the spherical walker. Its bulbous head smoothly faded onto its body, discernible only by a pair of goggles, a large hook nose, and a cartoonishly oversized bushy red mustache.
"Major Stimson, I presume?"
Stimson faced the walker and saluted. There were rules on saluting civilians and specialists, many would have equivalent rank in the SLDF, but none of that mattered to him right there. It was the least he felt he owed this man. If he was one. It looked fat, but this close and towering over him at eight feet tall, that walker was large enough to contain a person.
"Major Edward Stimson, Eridani Light Horse, 121st Regiment, 6th Recon Battalion, sir!" He lowered his hand. "Doctor Robotnik, I presume?"
"You presume correctly, but not all that accurately. That is not important right now. First of all-
The walls groaned and roared like the pack of savage beasts as a watershed started to drain. The ground trembled beneath their feet. Ferrocrete landing pads were exposed as the silt in the lake bed was sluiced away.
The mountain broke open. The facility's primary protection was its secrecy. Once exposed, there were only two possibilities - the DropShips would be able to launch and escape under the shadow of anti-orbital guns, or they would suffer conventional invasion.
"The ECM and orbital defenses have been disengaged. You can contact your ASFs and DropShips to make your landings now."
A group of egg-shaped robots in butler paint schemes carrying trays of food and drink - specifically cola and heated SLDF rations - approached.
"It's been a long journey for you, my friends! Ease off, take a dump, mi casa es su casa."
-.
-.
FLDS BARTERTOWN
Mule-class DropShip
In orbit above Dumassas
same time
"Are we there yet?"
"I WILL MURDER YOU."
"Captain, please don't. The blood is going to get everywhere in zero-g." The pilot started the engines for a landing approach. "ETA to waypoint, nine minutes."
Dumassas
The Periphery
Date unknown
Dumassas was 78% water with several stringy landmasses, with only Anderson and Leon near the equator good for permanent habitation with a mean equatorial temperature of 19 degrees. Saint-Robert City was the world capital. It was an irradiated ruin.
The Union DropShip SLS CLAY landed about eighty kilometers northwest of Saint-Robert city and disgorged its company of Mechs - a full three lances. Carefully they followed the directions provided to a small snow-covered valley. The Mule DropShip FLDS BARTERTOWN remained in holding orbit. Two Eagle Heavy Fighters launched from the Union to provide air cover.
Edward Stimson raised the hand of his Devish BattleMech. At 55 tons with a top speed of 86 km/h, it was had a similar speed profile as preferred 30-ton Valkyrie, but with a heavier load in missile fire support role. His Command Lance included two Valkyries and a 40-ton Clint.
There were no changes made to the loadout of 2nd Recon company, which consisted of a command lance and a strike lance. Captain Raymond Allwine piloted a 55-ton Wolverine, with Jack Finsrud's 40-ton anti-infantry Vulcan BattleMech, Terry Little's 50-ton Enforcer armed with a Large Laser and an Autocannon/10 for anti-Mech work, and Barbara Mosley's fast 45-ton Phoenix Hawk to round out the lance.
Strike Lance was led by Lickin Graspkoot, and yes that was his real name, piloting a 35-ton Ostscout, with a 30-ton Valkyrie, a 20-ton Stinger, and 20-ton Wasp, which could easily hit over 120kph.
"Still nothing on sensors, Major," responded Lt. Gus Avery as he circled the skies above.
"Maintain Combat Air Patrol," Maj. Stimson ordered. He then turned around to address his company, waving the Mech's right arm for emphasis. "Pick a side and search, but be careful. If I wanted to hide something, I wouldn't lay booby traps to tell people there's something there. But if they already know there's something there, I'd want my traps to start activating to make them fuck off right quick."
The two lances separated and walked slowly into the glacier-carved valley, his command lance following.
Eventually the valley opened out into a bend, with one following the source of the thin river and the other leading down into a fjord with a series of oxbow lakes.
"This looks suspicious, sir," said Captain Allwine. "If we were the SLDF, and I wanted to hide launchers for a DropShip, I'd hide them under water."
"Good point. Then we should be double careful," replied Maj. Stimpson.
-.
The three lances went down the left downhill bend until they reached the first lake. They kept an eye on their magscan sensors. Water could also easily hide minefields or sentry turrets. The waters looked crystal clear, reflecting the sky perfectly, only here and there showing the stones beneath. Maj. Stimson broadcasted the authentication signal he was given on open radio frequency.
Nothing.
Gingerly the twelve mechs walked in single file around the edge of the waters until they reached the next lake. Maj. Stimpson broadcast again. This time he spoke "Authenticate Stone Eggplant Latitude Mango, Three, Three, One, Over." The authentication signal was composed of a digitally encrypted string and a passcode.
He received a brief electronic bleep, and nothing else.
This did imply they were on the right track. The lance moved to the next lake, and beyond it a deep fjord going all the way to the ocean.
"Authenticate Stone Eggplant Latitude Mango, Three, Three, One, Over."
Three short bleeps was the response. The surface of the lake rippled. Something large and rectangular rose out of the water. It was a signboard on a pole.
The lance warily readied their weapons and locked on. Major Stimpson zoomed in. Then he sighed.
"What's it?" someone asked idly.
"Clear the frequency on non-essential chatter," said Captain Allwine. Then he zoomed in with his own sensors, and then also sighed heavily.
The sign said:
- TURN AROUND.
- YOU ARE GOING
- THE WRONG WAY.
"Well that's encouraging," said Jack Finsrud.
"Wait, sir!" Barbara Mosley spoke up quickly. "What if it's a bluff?"
Major Stimson paused. He didn't think the SLDF would play games like that, but said again "Authenticate Stone, Eggplant, Latitude, Mango, Three, Three, One, Over."
The signboard rotated.
On the other side was:
- SLDF AUTHENTICATED.
- THIS IS NOT THE WAY.
Then his radio received a synthetic voice replying "Authenticated. Star League Defense Forces Three Hundred Thirty First Battle Regiment. Authentication code Sonic. Tails. Cherry. Diamond. Pearl. Respond."
He replied "Authenticate, Hedgehog. Fox. Rumbler. Ruby. Sapphire."
The voice returned "Accepted. Primary defenses deactivated. Turn around. You are going the wrong way."
The signboard retreated back into the blank depths.
"All right. Turn around…" the Major said. "Let's get this done."
As the twelve mechs moved, Jack Finsrud said over comms "Captain, permission to engage in nonessential chatter over the lance frequency?"
Capt. Allwine clicked on his radio to confer with the Major, and then came back with "You are clear to proceed."
So Jack clicked his radio to the 'open' mode and said "Like I was saying, you can't just apply it as a metaphor. The Avatar does have strong similarity to the SLDF as a peacekeeper among wildly different nations, yes. Sure, the Fire Nation is easy to conflate with the Draconis Combine, but the Earth Nation isn't a clear stand-in for the Lyran Commonwealth. The Air Nomads and the Water Tribe don't have any parallels to what we see today.
"That more than anything proves this was made way back during the Terran Alliance days... "
-.
-.
The Mechs went uphill until the valley narrowed to the point Mechs could only pass one at a time. Then it opened out again to a small clearing in front of a waterfall.
"Oh, the hidden base behind the waterfall!" Barbara chirped. "That's a classic!"
Major Stimson spoke again: "Authenticate Stone, Eggplant, Latitude, Mango, Three, Three, One, Over."
A voice, no longer the clearly artificial generic female voice of a computer, but a male one filled with energy but still containing that electronic buzz. "Eridani Light Horse, I presume?"
"This is Major Stimson of the Eridani Light Horse, yes. Who is this?"
"This is Robotnik. Did you bring my son?"
Stimson let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. Oh thank whoever, they had not wasted five whole goddamn months just getting to this abandoned rock.
"No. As you requested, he is busy with Combat Training."
"Excellent. If the Eridani Light Horse could not even fulfill such a simple requirement, then there's no hope for their competence to handle the rest of my gifts. Hang on. For now, let me welcome you to SLDF EXPEDITIONARY SUPPORT FACILITY PORT STONE."
The ground rumbled beneath them. Then it began to hitch, and with a metallic groan, sink.
"Holy shit, this whole thing is an elevator!" Barbara squealed excitedly.
Twelve mechs descended into darkness. In the distance they heard hard mechanical clangs of flood lights turning on. Red eyes watched them from the dark. As they turned on the driving lights of their Mechs, they found gun turrets recessed into the shaft. The gunsights followed them as the elevator descended, but the guns failed to deploy.
Then, the view opened up.
Behind the armored glass walls of the elevator they saw a massive semi-spherical cavern. Clang. Clang. Clang. The lights turned on to reveal its full size. Approximately three hundred meters underground, and almost a kilometer wide, this was a hemispherical geofront - an excavated space made for habitation and/or manufacturing.
There was a section that elongated out like a stadium, then a rounded area at the end with walls that sloped up before converging into a dome, oddly evocative of the Great Roman Colosseum.
It was large enough to have its own indoor park, it was large enough to park Overlord-sized dropships and still have twice the height to spare, it was large enough to have its own micro-climate. The rows of buildings laid out in the grid gave the illusion of deeper space. Walls and blast shields surrounded the spaceport area at the far end. The roof of the cavern was a smooth white dome, and subtle blue lighting gave the impression of a sky.
Just the sight of it made their hearts skip the beat. Some of them shivered with uncontrollable emotion. This place -
Seven great dropships sat in a half-circle on the far end on rail platforms that could move them each in their thousands of tons onto a launch pad elevator.
Utilitarian buildings crowded the side walls of the base, but laid out in a sensible grid surrounding the central space. Everything was painted a clean and pristine white, shining under the halogen lights. The sight of it all was dominated by the symbol laid into the ferrocrete at the center of the facility - a four-pointed star with two elongated rays, and four more rays at ring angles behind.
The Cameron Star.
The icon of the Star League.
A group of distinctively shaped Mechs stood in formation on the way to the starport area. Eight Mechs per section separated into two four-unit rank, eight sections long, that was sixty-four mechs standing at attention.
The elevator came to a stop.
A small spherical walker machine waited at the foot of the elevator. Painted bright red on top and black in the lower half, it looked up at the war machines and waved with its arms ending in oversized hands.
"ERIDANI LIGHT HORSE! WELCOME, LOYAL CHILDREN OF THE STAR LEAGUE!." The robotic walker spun around as if dancing. "EVERYTHING YOU SEE HERE BELONGS TO YOU NOW."
"Holy shit!" it was unknown which MechWarrior gasped, but it was a sentiment they all shared. "Seriously?!"
"SINCERELY."
"You knew about this…" Jack hissed at Barbara through the comms.
Barbara looked around, boggling. On each side of the receiving area were two blank walls that had images projected onto them from below. On the left was the symbol of the SLDF, below that a map of the entire united Star League right before the usurpation of Amaris. Upon the other, the plumed helmet of the XIX Army and below that the six-pointed star of the LXV Corps. Nineteenth Army, Sixty-Fifth Corps, a record of a time when a single Army like this designed to keep the peace in the Taurian Concordat was composed of a mere one hundred and forty regiments.
This underground city, for much of his childhood, Devlin Stone lived here with no other company than his father and some robots to simulate social interaction.
"Not like this. I didn't imagine this…"
-.
-.
The Mechs disembarked from the elevator, which after thirty seconds detecting no weight began to rise up again with a fitful groan.
Nearby were rows of Mech gantries where MechWarriors could park their BattleMechs. The small spherical walker hopped back to give them room. Major Stimson walked his Dervish over to one of them, and the pad beneath his feet rotated the whole Mech to face the other way. The Mech Bay detected the location of his hatch, and lowered a walkway to the proper height.
Stimson took off the heavy bucket-like neurohelmet from his head and tried to calm the shaking in his hands by clenching them repeatedly into fists. It did not help.
He popped the cockpit hatch and exited his mech. The air in this facility tasted faintly like ozone. He paused standing on the walkway for a moment. It was high enough that he could still see the shining Cameron Star behind the rows of lostech Urbanmechs standing as if on parade.
The Mechs were irrelevant for the moment.
This was the Star League. This place - was a relic of their glory.
This place was glory itself.
As a man of the Eridani Light Horse, he thought it should feel like coming home - but he felt like an intruder trespassing onto a holy place.
He raised a hand and gestured for the rest of the lance to disembark but for one lance to remain in their Mechs at combat ready.
The walkway lowered so he could step off, and he faced the spherical walker. Its bulbous head smoothly faded onto its body, discernible only by a pair of goggles, a large hook nose, and a cartoonishly oversized bushy red mustache.
"Major Stimson, I presume?"
Stimson faced the walker and saluted. There were rules on saluting civilians and specialists, many would have equivalent rank in the SLDF, but none of that mattered to him right there. It was the least he felt he owed this man. If he was one. It looked fat, but this close and towering over him at eight feet tall, that walker was large enough to contain a person.
"Major Edward Stimson, Eridani Light Horse, 121st Regiment, 6th Recon Battalion, sir!" He lowered his hand. "Doctor Robotnik, I presume?"
"You presume correctly, but not all that accurately. That is not important right now. First of all-
The walls groaned and roared like the pack of savage beasts as a watershed started to drain. The ground trembled beneath their feet. Ferrocrete landing pads were exposed as the silt in the lake bed was sluiced away.
The mountain broke open. The facility's primary protection was its secrecy. Once exposed, there were only two possibilities - the DropShips would be able to launch and escape under the shadow of anti-orbital guns, or they would suffer conventional invasion.
"The ECM and orbital defenses have been disengaged. You can contact your ASFs and DropShips to make your landings now."
A group of egg-shaped robots in butler paint schemes carrying trays of food and drink - specifically cola and heated SLDF rations - approached.
"It's been a long journey for you, my friends! Ease off, take a dump, mi casa es su casa."
-.
-.
FLDS BARTERTOWN
Mule-class DropShip
In orbit above Dumassas
same time
"Are we there yet?"
"I WILL MURDER YOU."
"Captain, please don't. The blood is going to get everywhere in zero-g." The pilot started the engines for a landing approach. "ETA to waypoint, nine minutes."
4.3 Raiders of the Lost Urbie
bluepencil
The tropics will be uninhabitable.
- Joined
- Feb 19, 2013
- Messages
- 721
- Likes received
- 11,588
-.
-.
The technicians had no less awe and wonder about this relic of a bygone era of progress and excess. If anything, because they better understood the depths of how much technological progress had degraded, they appreciated better having samples of pristine unused tech.
Resident Engineer Joseph Kubler of the SLS ARENDAL and Senior Warrant Officer Andrei Posseli jerked back as a humanoid robot with a thin head balancing on two wheel-chassis zoomed towards them.
"Take a map," it said, shoving a folded pamphlet at them. "Take a map."
"Out of my way, you dumb bucket of bolts!" Kubler tried to push it away.
The Map Robot's wheels squealed on the ferrocrete main lift receiving area and then pushed into the engineer's personal space and intimidatingly pushed the folded piece of paper at his chin. "Take. A map."
"Jesus Christ! Fine! Give me one and go away!"
As soon as the pamphlet left its hand, it spun around in place and faced Andrei Posseli. It reached into its belt bag and said "Take a map."
"Sure." The older man took the map.
"Thank you. Have a nice day." The Map Robot then zoomed away to accost the next group of unprepared visitors.
"What in bloody hell is wrong with this place?" Kubler said with a scowl, before angrily opening the map.
Port Stone was not very big on the face of it, but the map showed tunnels and rooms extending into the bedrock and the DropShip lift leading up to the surface. This was all so terribly bad for operational security.
They walked a little further, comparing the map to the territory, and passed other Eridani Light Horse crew and technicians rubbernecking at the sights. Past the military feel of the elevator receiving area, with its Mech and vehicle parking, its gantries and cranes, and doors that lead into lower level storage and transport tunnels, was the civilian area.
The whole place looked like the main street of some fake tourist town. Fake trees swayed to an invisible breeze. Posseli went down to one knee to feel the grass bordering the sidewalk. It was artificial of course, but made of some soft polymer fabric.
The buildings lining the central courtyard had signs like "Bob's Burgers" and "Sunny Side Tailoring" and "Duty Free Store". They were all staffed by robots.
He looked up at the dome. With careful arrangement of diffused lights to remove shadows, It could almost seem like a sky. A peppy ambient tune wafted out of recessed speakers, reminding him of green hills.
"This isn't a Star League base, it's like someone decided to build an underground resort," hissed Kubler.
"It's a Port. This was not a completely military operation. Soldiers also need downtime, and this… well, in a winter planet like this, isn't it comforting?"
Up ahead, a group of technicians were crowding around a trio of MechWarriors sitting on several crates.
The pair of senior engineers walked over.
-.
6th Recon Lance was playing the welcoming party. They fielded questions from newcomers, and indeed this was a welcome duty compared to being forced to do outside patrols or grunt box-carrying work.
"Why is this place so big?!" one of them asked. Yes, sure, of course you needed plenty of space to store dropships - but why did it need such a high roof? "This isn't very defensible - shouldn't you expect a Brian Castle to be criss-crossed with tunnels and be confusing for attackers?"
"From what I heard," Jack Finsrud noted dully "The SLDF detonated fusion bombs to make this hole. Then they just built over it, making a fake mountain."
The technician nodded. "That… overkill sounds like a SLDF thing to do, yep yep."
"You can't just excuse literally anything stupid and impractical as 'because the SLDF!'," groused Barbara.
"She said, as she was chowing down on military rations that are still fine after two hundred years," said Jack with a 'heh'.
"This honey beef rice is pretty good," said Terry Lyttle. "Anyone want some tofu curry thai?"
One of the technicians raised his hand. Terry dug a pack from the crates they were sitting on and threw it at him.
"What do I do with this?"
"Go into a food place and ask the robots there to fix you up."
-.
The two older engineers then idly decided to follow the young man into the nearby diner.
Once inside, a robot with an hourglass shaped and in a pink apron paint scheme approached the tech. "Hello, soldier. What can I get ya, hon?"
"Uh…" the tech looked around and saw other ELH personnel already eating and minding their own business, not even sparing him a glance. He raised the ration pack. "Something for this?"
"Sure thing, hon." The robot then swiveled around and said "Honey, spot for one rations!"
"ONE BROKE-ASS SPECIAL COMING RIGHT UP!" replied the cook robot wheeling out of the kitchen.
The tech frowned. "Is… is it even possible to get some real food out of this place?"
The cook robot asked "DO YOU HAVE ANY STAR LEAGUE DOLLARS ON YOU, BOY AND/OR GIRL?"
"... no?"
"THEN HOT WATER IS THE BEST WE CAN GIVE FOR FREELOADERS! GET A JOB, HIPPIE!" the cook robot shouted back.
"Use of utensils is free, dear," said the robot waitress. "They're over there. Pick a table, I'll get your order to you right quick."
As the tech even more confusedly walked over to the spoon and fork dispensers, the people in the diner laughed, finding it riotously funny for their own ineffable reasons. Soon enough the robot waitress returned with several bowls and a pitcher of hot water.
Joseph Kubler turned aside and said flatly "What even is up with this place, seriously."
Andrei Posseli just rubbed at his grizzled chin and furrowed his brows. This level of limited artificial intelligence… well, that was lostech too.
-.
"Ho, MechWarriors!" Senior Warrant Officer Posseli raised a hand and addressed the three pilots. "Where's the Major?"
All three pilots pointed behind them towards the standing rows of Urbanmechs. In the distance two men and a large bulbous robot stood talking with each other.
"Of course," Kubler whispered under his breath. "MechWarriors are going to mech …."
-.
The two engineers reported in and made their introductions.
"Ah, good, we were waiting for you," said Major Stimson. He glanced aside at Robotnik "Someone was being all coy about explaining specs without a tech there to properly appreciate things."
The walker's face was fixed but someone it just seemed so incredibly smug. "I am Doctor Ivo Robotnik, and now we can get all this organized."
Captain Allwine nodded. "I too, would like to know why we had been simulator drilling so much on some oddly overly fast Urbanmechs."
"Come along, Horsies, let's put the kiddos to work so we can talk properly about bigger and better things."
Robotnik's walker approached the group by the plaza and raised its hands. A loud foghorn sound rang through the indoor space, drawing attention. Internal speakers announced louder "All righty! All righty then! I know I said everything here belongs to you now, but in the interests of saving time, all technicians and gather around and I'll tell you what goes where as you loot the place."
Some of the men scowled at the implication, but the technicians gathered around Robotnik and the mobile holo-emitter on legs that followed him around.
"You boyos and girlos brought a Mule, right? Good. Because most of the gear had already been loaded onto the DropShips. I had to leave a bunch of the stackable goods behind because I thought you would like to carry off some of the Sub-Capital Laser Cannons."
"A what?" asked one of the engineers.
The holo-projector displayed a rotating 3d image of something that technically should not exist until half a century later.
"Heavy Sub Capital Laser, otherwise known as SL-Three, is a heavily cut down Naval Laser-Thirty Five - less effective range, slightly less damage, but only two hundred fifty tons instead of seven hundred. Emplaced anti-orbital guns. The Bigwigs have one thousand two hundred tons of free cargo tons, so I filled two of the seven DropShips with ten of them. There's still twenty-four more ringing the base and the six Light Naval PPCs - those are one thousand four hundred tons though. If you all weren't the Eridani Light Horse, well - nothing short of a WarShip would have survived anywhere closer than three hundred kilometers."
The Robotnik walker's blank black goggled eyes loomed large over the holo, which shifted to a the familiar spherical form of a Union-class DropShip. "I figured you'd like having something that *is* WarShip grade but would be light enough to be transportable or built into a DropShip as a Pocket WarShip."
"I want that," replied the engineer in a tiny little voice.
Robotnik's walker clapped its hands. "All righty, ring raiders - here's the deal. That pile of crates over there are ER PPCs. ER Large Lasers. Non-ER Large and Medium Lasers. Over there are the Medium and Small Pulse Lasers-" he began pointing around the complex. "Those there are a thousand tons of Double Heatsinks, and that over are Extra Light Fusion Engines in the ninety, one-twenty, one-fifty and one-eighty-rated range. That's two thousand tons of Ferro-Fibrous, and behind you right now are five hundred tons of SLDF rations, a very small portion of the colony survival essentials this base was made to stock.
"Thumper artillery and ammunition are already loaded into the Bigwigs; I also presumed you'd want to have as many Arrow-Four artillery missiles as you could possibly get."
The holo-projector highlighted each location in sequence.
They stared at the walker, struck numb - maybe by all the lostech? Or maybe by his rationality?
"Miscellaneous electronics, here. Artemis modules. Artemis-enabled LRMs and SRMS. Then bulkier Electronic Warfare equipment - Beagle Active Probe and Guardian ECM - there. AMS systems and ammo, those boxes next to them."
"So much lostech…"
The walker didn't have a head to shake, so it only waggled from side to side and flapped its arms. "Weapons are nothing. Three of the seven Bigwigs are full with terraforming equipment and deployable factories inside their Vehicle Bays. They were stocked that way from the start. STONE EGG was a long-range colonization and exploration mission going past the Taurian Concordat ."
"Why?"
"That… is a secret."
"Yeah fair enough."
The walker clapped its hands again, and then turned to the two senior technicians. "Which among you is the more senior specialist?"
"That would be me," replied Andrei Posseli.
Robotnik turned towards Major Stimson. The Eridani Light Horse Battalion-level officer nodded. He ordered "All right. Mister Kubler? Please arrange for the inspection and loading of materials onto the DropShips. Prioritize all the military cargo, I don't want to hear about people looting non-essentials and knick-knacks over strategic supplies."
"Aye, sir!" responded Joseph Kubler. He turned around and began barking orders of his own. DropShips were part of the naval complement of the Eridani Light Horse, and everything regarding deployment was handled by a separate technical group.
Robotnik's walker turned in place to speak to Major Stimson. "Now walk with me; you have questions, and I will answer them. I have much to brag about; but not just for any random ears to overhear."
"Heh," sniffed Major Stimson.
"We appreciate your honesty," said Captain Allwine.
-.
-.
The group walked slowly and paused before the first group of mechs. Four arranged in a lance, on either side of the path. Robotnik gestured towards them. "You already know about the Super Urbanmechs. UMS-SSR. Speed of eighty-six kilometers per hour on an XL 150 Engine, ER PPC without minimum range, Medium Pulse Laser, Guardian ECM to throw ghost targets to confound targeting and jam transmissions. Six tons of Ferro-Fibrous armor."
The holo-robot displayed the details of the Mech with a simulated scene of the Mech in motion.
"The only difference between these and the one my boy brought with him to Colchester is that these don't have the Supercharger, so that reckless young and/or drunk fools don't ruin their Engines on racing Urbies. Only officer Super Urbanmechs get the Supercharger so they can chase down those idiots. They get a third Jump Jet instead to extend their jump range to ninety meters. Double Heatsinks mean that they never have to worry about heat issues."
Senior Warrant Officer Posseli let out an amazed "Huuh." He bent down to read the technical readout on the holo. "That sounds surprisingly potent."
"As I promised you have a full regiment - one hundred and forty-four mechs of these."
"A full regiment?!" Captain Allwine wheezed. He gave Major Stimson a look that said 'Okay I understand everything perfectly now'.
Major Stimson only scowled. "You promised TWO regiments."
Robotnik nodded by making the whole walker tilt its body up and down. "I did. And you'll have it. Let's move on."
-.
The next group of Urbanmechs had a smaller weapon in its right arm weapon pod and three lenses in the left. "The UMS-SPL, is for militia pilots that don't have good aim, which I think was expected from most of them. Built for more short-ranged combat, this laser vomit of a Mech ditches the Guardian ECM to have a Large Pulse laser on the right and three Medium Lasers on the left. Twelve DHS is enough to keep it cool. Jump range, 90 meters. Everything else identical to the standard Super Urbanmech that better rewards people with good aim."
"Could I get information on Large Pulse Lasers, please?" asked Posseli.
The holo-robot obliged. The tech hummed. "Seven tons, same as the ER PPC. But… only a little more than half the range of a regular PPC, but produces the same heat. Or to put it another way, 60% of the range of an AC/10. Only slightly more range than a standard Medium Laser. What was the point of developing these?"
"Within that range, extreme accuracy and short duration pulses that can strip almost as much armor as a standard PPC shot," replied Robotnik. "With the refire rate of these things in short-range combat? You're not going to miss being unable to mount an AC/20. You can strip armor so fast it's like flaying a Mech alive."
Major Stimson considered it. "Sounds better for fast mechs. How many of these Large Pulse Lasers do we get?"
"In weapons stocks? Hundreds. In Mechs? Thirty-six."
"Huh. Not that much."
"You can always refit standard Super Urbanmechs to these if your pilots are terrible at gunnery," Robotnik shrugged.
"Not likely. We're going to have to prioritize even more gunnery training from now."
"Then let's move on."
-
The next group of Urbanmechs had boxy missile launchers on each arm.
"The Super Urbanmech variant UMS-MSL is ammo-dependent with LRM10 with Artemis on the left, a pair of Streak SRM2s fed by a single ton of ammo on the right, each with a Medium Laser below that. For people with even poorer aim than that, maybe? I dunno."
"You have a very poor impression of the people that were originally supposed to receive these Mechs," Captain Allwine noticed.
"These were people who were for all they knew, going on a one-way trip into the void. People with irreplaceable skills they were not. That's why a lot of the information systems on this cache were so focused on education and on-site training."
"Fascinating. We do get those too, right?" asked Posseli.
"Of course."
"How many of these?" asked Major Stimson.
"Thirty-six."
"That makes half the regiment then. Sixty-four mechs left. I'm seeing a disposition based on combat roles here. What else?"
"Moving on-"
-.
The next Urbanmech had an even larger missile box on its left arm and a tiny Small Laser port on the right arm pod.
"The UMS-ARV is *slow*. It can only go up to fifty-four kilometers per hour. Its heatsinks are Standard. It has only THREE tons of Ferro Fibrous armor instead of six. It does still retain the sixty-meter jump jets though. Take a guess why?"
The two MechWarriors looked puzzled, but the ELH technician looked up at the Mechs and then beamed. With almost boyish glee he asked "Is that an Arrow IV missile artillery launcher?!"
"Correctamundo."
"Holy shit," said Captain Allwine.
"The UM-SSA comes with two tons of Arrow IV ammunition, each with five shots. Five shots of Thunder warheads, airbursting to deliver an instant minefield on the point. Then five shots of non-homing warheads are slightly less vulnerable to AMS since they are not targeting a Mech in particular, for area-of-effect devastation to entire enemy lances. We do have Arrow IV Homing missiles if you place TAG on other mechs on the battle line though."
"How many?!" Major Stimson clenched his fists in front of his face and roared.
"Thirty six."
He raised his arms. "A Battalion of fucking artillerymechs, FUCK YES."
"This… this changes things," murmured Capt. Allwine. "Even if it's slow, it has Jump Jets. It can go where Long Toms can't."
"Even better, it can do shoot and scoot to avoid artillery counter-battery fire in a way Long Toms can't. We can only count on Long Toms being able to outrange everything to avoid this, but… organic artillery support that can combat-drop with Strike lances? This is maximum aggression, sir. No one is prepared for this. No one."
Major Stimson looked up wild-eyed towards the Robotnik walker's blank goggle-like eye ports. "That's three-fourths of the regiment down. I don't know - what do you have left that could top this?"
Robotnik waggled from side to side and laughed. "Then let me surprise you - if you're smart, you're going to understand why this is the best of all."
-.
Next up:
"The Urbanmech UMS-SCG "Super Comms Guard" is slightly faster than your regular Super Urbanmech, it can go 97 km per hour on 180-rated XL Engine. It has four Jump Jets letting it jump 120 meters. It has a pair of Medium Pulse Lasers in each arm to quickly make die some bugmechs think they found some easy prey."
The Super Urbanmech in question didn't look too different, apart from its antennas maybe taller than the usual. The domelike 'head' of the Urbanmech had a round protrusion like the lights on a miner's helmet.
"It's fast, but this leaves it with plenty of tons and volume - which it uses to contain four tons of advanced Star League Communications Equipment that can make contact with satellites and coordinate and relay transmissions across a very wide radius. It carries a Beagle Active Probe to spot and classify enemies and passively listen in to transmissions and counteract jamming. It has an advanced Recon Camera to passively and optically track and spot enemies for artillery. It packs a Remote Sensor Dispenser and with its communication suites is able to monitor five Remote Sensors at the same time and is able to pick up recon data as soon as it enters maximum range of a previously-deployed sensor.
It can't transmit targeting data, but it can transmit literally all other information about the enemy to each other, either through satlink or skywave, then to the HQ. To put things into perspective - this packs a better communications suite than what DropShips have - and those have to communicate across interplanetary distances!"
Major Stimson stared dully at Robotnik. Then after a while, he spoke: "Okay. I admit it. That's pretty damn good, Robotnik. That's more valuable than the artillerymechs."
"Pardon me, sir - but I don't understand," said Captain Allwine. "Isn't it just a scout mech?"
"It's not just a Scout mech. It's an information control mech. Scout Mechs report *to* it. It's a Mobile HQ that can run. It makes the whole Regiment act on real-time updated information as one unit instead of each Battalion doing their own thing collecting their own recon information and passing it on. You should understand how important this is - Recon companies aren't made to fight the enemy unless we're forced to, we find them then we give their location to the Strike companies. When we fought the Dragoons on Hoff, other than the line Heavies, it's Recon Lances that got hit hard when forced to fight because we didn't have the tons and weapons for it."
"Sir, my apologies, but I still don't quite get it. How would this help?"
"I made my Command Lance out of Light Mechs to get to where I'm needed. You think I did that hoping to turn the tide of battle with a bunch of twenty or thirty-tonners? No. Where I'm needed is where I need to go so I can *know*. We had to get into combat range just so that command could have a picture on what's happening and where.
"What do you think really keeps us from reforming the 21st Regiment? Lack of Mechs? We can get that. Lack of pilots? We can train that. Lack of DropShips? We could seize that from our enemies. No, the problem is that we reached the limit of being able to command a regiment long ago. We can't even deploy two regiments at the same time and hope to coordinate effectively. When we fought on Hoff, it was the biggest fight the Light Horse fought since the defense of Hesperus II - and just like that time, we had to piggyback on the command and control apparatus of the Great Houses to handle anything close to regimental in scale.
"We fought Hoff and we survived that… but it was in small pockets of fighting that we only managed to move as one big force only when we're in sight of each other. We could have rolled the Dragoons all the way back to their DropShips if Kerensky didn't break our flank. If our Heavies just *knew* she was there-
"We fought Hoff as a cat-and-mouse game, but even when we could draw away lances of the Dragoons, we could never combine force to defeat them in detail because we just couldn't be *sure* where the rest of the enemy is without exposing a weakness in our own battle lines. We had to pull them to our lines where we had knowledge of who was where, but that's just conceding space and time. This violated Principle Two - what is that?"
Allwine answered "Offensive. When given the chance, attack and remain on the offensive for as long as possible. The enemy is weakest when backing up, and so are you."
"Right. They had more confidence because they were a Dragoons regiment of Heavies and Mediums, and they knew a Light Horse regiment was mostly Mediums and Lights and they just needed to keep pushing-
"But if we just had complete knowledge of the battlespace… speed. Finally. You can leverage that."
"You can do the Mongol," said Robotnik.
"What?" asked Posseli.
Major Stimson nodded. He immediately got the point. "Hit the enemy hard and retreat then attack again from another direction, so fast that the enemy thinks you are two different attackers and that you have more fighters on the field than you do. Maximum havoc. Maximum confusion."
"I see. So… if we go back to the fundamental principles, that's Seven, Eight, and Nine. No, wait - Principle Two should be the most important here-" Captain Allwine pondered. "Unity of Command. Always know who is above and below you in the chain of command and what they are doing. It will not only help you in times of trouble, but it will also give you a better sense of how your mission fits into the overall picture."
"Right. Unity of Command. Then Surprise. Intelligence. Simplicity. Having Jump Artillery is an operational solution. This? This is strategy. It makes everything else happen." Major Stimson moved his open palms in a curving wave as if tracing a rainbow.
Captain Allwine nodded. "I see. And… what makes this even better is that it can adequately defend itself. Scout command mech?"
"Ah, and that reminds me -" added Posseli. "This would be great to integrate into artillery formations, because having updated knowledge of the local battlespace prevents someone from sneaking through and taking out your valuable and almost defenseless artillery units."
Major Stimson pointed firmly at the Mech to his left. "There's thirty-six of these. Now the Eridani Light Horse has five regiments, equal in numbers if not in wargear to the Wolf's Dragoons. We can even put one in every battalion, down to every Battallion Command Lance having satlink access to all other Light Horse formations on-planet.
"If the enemy force has taken out the satellites? They're going to expect that would leave us blind to the larger battlespace, like what most mercenaries face. Everything our recon groups gather - we could bounce direct-wave information off recon aircraft if we have to, without having to risk aerospace anywhere close to where the enemy can shoot at them." He swept his arm angrily down. "This thing is too valuable to lose, everything else that is Urbanmech-shaped is a decoy."
"Nyeeee… actually. You do remember that the SLDF Communication Equipment is only 4 tons, right? Active Probe is one and a half tons. Recon Camera and Remote Sensors, half a ton each. Depending on what you chose to leave behind, you could easily assemble thirty-six more from, say, one hundred forty-four tons of cargo. Get that by refitting Regular Super Urbanmechs, or even non-Super Urbanmechs."
"DUMP EVERYTHING THAT ISN'T THIS! All other cargo is extra!" the Major spun around to point at Senior Warrant Office Posseli. Then to Robotnik. "How many of these SLDF Comm Suites do you have here anyway?"
"Two hundred."
Stimson's hand dropped to his side. He grimaced at Robotnik in consternation. "That's… eight hundred tons. The hell why a colony effort would need that many battlefield control and communications equipment instead of more food and clean water and medicine?"
Robotnik made another small full-body nod. "You will understand later when we can talk about the DropShips - but in short, when the SEEDCORN colonies arrive at their chosen planet, they would be *mandated* to have full coverage monitoring of the entire world. Why? Again, later."
The Major also nodded. "Fair enough." Then he turned his head and grimaced again. "But… there's still more Mechs here. What's this about?"
Robotnik's walker began rubbing its palms together eagerly.
-.
The technicians had no less awe and wonder about this relic of a bygone era of progress and excess. If anything, because they better understood the depths of how much technological progress had degraded, they appreciated better having samples of pristine unused tech.
Resident Engineer Joseph Kubler of the SLS ARENDAL and Senior Warrant Officer Andrei Posseli jerked back as a humanoid robot with a thin head balancing on two wheel-chassis zoomed towards them.
"Take a map," it said, shoving a folded pamphlet at them. "Take a map."
"Out of my way, you dumb bucket of bolts!" Kubler tried to push it away.
The Map Robot's wheels squealed on the ferrocrete main lift receiving area and then pushed into the engineer's personal space and intimidatingly pushed the folded piece of paper at his chin. "Take. A map."
"Jesus Christ! Fine! Give me one and go away!"
As soon as the pamphlet left its hand, it spun around in place and faced Andrei Posseli. It reached into its belt bag and said "Take a map."
"Sure." The older man took the map.
"Thank you. Have a nice day." The Map Robot then zoomed away to accost the next group of unprepared visitors.
"What in bloody hell is wrong with this place?" Kubler said with a scowl, before angrily opening the map.
Port Stone was not very big on the face of it, but the map showed tunnels and rooms extending into the bedrock and the DropShip lift leading up to the surface. This was all so terribly bad for operational security.
They walked a little further, comparing the map to the territory, and passed other Eridani Light Horse crew and technicians rubbernecking at the sights. Past the military feel of the elevator receiving area, with its Mech and vehicle parking, its gantries and cranes, and doors that lead into lower level storage and transport tunnels, was the civilian area.
The whole place looked like the main street of some fake tourist town. Fake trees swayed to an invisible breeze. Posseli went down to one knee to feel the grass bordering the sidewalk. It was artificial of course, but made of some soft polymer fabric.
The buildings lining the central courtyard had signs like "Bob's Burgers" and "Sunny Side Tailoring" and "Duty Free Store". They were all staffed by robots.
He looked up at the dome. With careful arrangement of diffused lights to remove shadows, It could almost seem like a sky. A peppy ambient tune wafted out of recessed speakers, reminding him of green hills.
"This isn't a Star League base, it's like someone decided to build an underground resort," hissed Kubler.
"It's a Port. This was not a completely military operation. Soldiers also need downtime, and this… well, in a winter planet like this, isn't it comforting?"
Up ahead, a group of technicians were crowding around a trio of MechWarriors sitting on several crates.
The pair of senior engineers walked over.
-.
6th Recon Lance was playing the welcoming party. They fielded questions from newcomers, and indeed this was a welcome duty compared to being forced to do outside patrols or grunt box-carrying work.
"Why is this place so big?!" one of them asked. Yes, sure, of course you needed plenty of space to store dropships - but why did it need such a high roof? "This isn't very defensible - shouldn't you expect a Brian Castle to be criss-crossed with tunnels and be confusing for attackers?"
"From what I heard," Jack Finsrud noted dully "The SLDF detonated fusion bombs to make this hole. Then they just built over it, making a fake mountain."
The technician nodded. "That… overkill sounds like a SLDF thing to do, yep yep."
"You can't just excuse literally anything stupid and impractical as 'because the SLDF!'," groused Barbara.
"She said, as she was chowing down on military rations that are still fine after two hundred years," said Jack with a 'heh'.
"This honey beef rice is pretty good," said Terry Lyttle. "Anyone want some tofu curry thai?"
One of the technicians raised his hand. Terry dug a pack from the crates they were sitting on and threw it at him.
"What do I do with this?"
"Go into a food place and ask the robots there to fix you up."
-.
The two older engineers then idly decided to follow the young man into the nearby diner.
Once inside, a robot with an hourglass shaped and in a pink apron paint scheme approached the tech. "Hello, soldier. What can I get ya, hon?"
"Uh…" the tech looked around and saw other ELH personnel already eating and minding their own business, not even sparing him a glance. He raised the ration pack. "Something for this?"
"Sure thing, hon." The robot then swiveled around and said "Honey, spot for one rations!"
"ONE BROKE-ASS SPECIAL COMING RIGHT UP!" replied the cook robot wheeling out of the kitchen.
The tech frowned. "Is… is it even possible to get some real food out of this place?"
The cook robot asked "DO YOU HAVE ANY STAR LEAGUE DOLLARS ON YOU, BOY AND/OR GIRL?"
"... no?"
"THEN HOT WATER IS THE BEST WE CAN GIVE FOR FREELOADERS! GET A JOB, HIPPIE!" the cook robot shouted back.
"Use of utensils is free, dear," said the robot waitress. "They're over there. Pick a table, I'll get your order to you right quick."
As the tech even more confusedly walked over to the spoon and fork dispensers, the people in the diner laughed, finding it riotously funny for their own ineffable reasons. Soon enough the robot waitress returned with several bowls and a pitcher of hot water.
Joseph Kubler turned aside and said flatly "What even is up with this place, seriously."
Andrei Posseli just rubbed at his grizzled chin and furrowed his brows. This level of limited artificial intelligence… well, that was lostech too.
-.
"Ho, MechWarriors!" Senior Warrant Officer Posseli raised a hand and addressed the three pilots. "Where's the Major?"
All three pilots pointed behind them towards the standing rows of Urbanmechs. In the distance two men and a large bulbous robot stood talking with each other.
"Of course," Kubler whispered under his breath. "MechWarriors are going to mech …."
-.
The two engineers reported in and made their introductions.
"Ah, good, we were waiting for you," said Major Stimson. He glanced aside at Robotnik "Someone was being all coy about explaining specs without a tech there to properly appreciate things."
The walker's face was fixed but someone it just seemed so incredibly smug. "I am Doctor Ivo Robotnik, and now we can get all this organized."
Captain Allwine nodded. "I too, would like to know why we had been simulator drilling so much on some oddly overly fast Urbanmechs."
"Come along, Horsies, let's put the kiddos to work so we can talk properly about bigger and better things."
Robotnik's walker approached the group by the plaza and raised its hands. A loud foghorn sound rang through the indoor space, drawing attention. Internal speakers announced louder "All righty! All righty then! I know I said everything here belongs to you now, but in the interests of saving time, all technicians and gather around and I'll tell you what goes where as you loot the place."
Some of the men scowled at the implication, but the technicians gathered around Robotnik and the mobile holo-emitter on legs that followed him around.
"You boyos and girlos brought a Mule, right? Good. Because most of the gear had already been loaded onto the DropShips. I had to leave a bunch of the stackable goods behind because I thought you would like to carry off some of the Sub-Capital Laser Cannons."
"A what?" asked one of the engineers.
The holo-projector displayed a rotating 3d image of something that technically should not exist until half a century later.
"Heavy Sub Capital Laser, otherwise known as SL-Three, is a heavily cut down Naval Laser-Thirty Five - less effective range, slightly less damage, but only two hundred fifty tons instead of seven hundred. Emplaced anti-orbital guns. The Bigwigs have one thousand two hundred tons of free cargo tons, so I filled two of the seven DropShips with ten of them. There's still twenty-four more ringing the base and the six Light Naval PPCs - those are one thousand four hundred tons though. If you all weren't the Eridani Light Horse, well - nothing short of a WarShip would have survived anywhere closer than three hundred kilometers."
The Robotnik walker's blank black goggled eyes loomed large over the holo, which shifted to a the familiar spherical form of a Union-class DropShip. "I figured you'd like having something that *is* WarShip grade but would be light enough to be transportable or built into a DropShip as a Pocket WarShip."
"I want that," replied the engineer in a tiny little voice.
Robotnik's walker clapped its hands. "All righty, ring raiders - here's the deal. That pile of crates over there are ER PPCs. ER Large Lasers. Non-ER Large and Medium Lasers. Over there are the Medium and Small Pulse Lasers-" he began pointing around the complex. "Those there are a thousand tons of Double Heatsinks, and that over are Extra Light Fusion Engines in the ninety, one-twenty, one-fifty and one-eighty-rated range. That's two thousand tons of Ferro-Fibrous, and behind you right now are five hundred tons of SLDF rations, a very small portion of the colony survival essentials this base was made to stock.
"Thumper artillery and ammunition are already loaded into the Bigwigs; I also presumed you'd want to have as many Arrow-Four artillery missiles as you could possibly get."
The holo-projector highlighted each location in sequence.
They stared at the walker, struck numb - maybe by all the lostech? Or maybe by his rationality?
"Miscellaneous electronics, here. Artemis modules. Artemis-enabled LRMs and SRMS. Then bulkier Electronic Warfare equipment - Beagle Active Probe and Guardian ECM - there. AMS systems and ammo, those boxes next to them."
"So much lostech…"
The walker didn't have a head to shake, so it only waggled from side to side and flapped its arms. "Weapons are nothing. Three of the seven Bigwigs are full with terraforming equipment and deployable factories inside their Vehicle Bays. They were stocked that way from the start. STONE EGG was a long-range colonization and exploration mission going past the Taurian Concordat ."
"Why?"
"That… is a secret."
"Yeah fair enough."
The walker clapped its hands again, and then turned to the two senior technicians. "Which among you is the more senior specialist?"
"That would be me," replied Andrei Posseli.
Robotnik turned towards Major Stimson. The Eridani Light Horse Battalion-level officer nodded. He ordered "All right. Mister Kubler? Please arrange for the inspection and loading of materials onto the DropShips. Prioritize all the military cargo, I don't want to hear about people looting non-essentials and knick-knacks over strategic supplies."
"Aye, sir!" responded Joseph Kubler. He turned around and began barking orders of his own. DropShips were part of the naval complement of the Eridani Light Horse, and everything regarding deployment was handled by a separate technical group.
Robotnik's walker turned in place to speak to Major Stimson. "Now walk with me; you have questions, and I will answer them. I have much to brag about; but not just for any random ears to overhear."
"Heh," sniffed Major Stimson.
"We appreciate your honesty," said Captain Allwine.
-.
-.
The group walked slowly and paused before the first group of mechs. Four arranged in a lance, on either side of the path. Robotnik gestured towards them. "You already know about the Super Urbanmechs. UMS-SSR. Speed of eighty-six kilometers per hour on an XL 150 Engine, ER PPC without minimum range, Medium Pulse Laser, Guardian ECM to throw ghost targets to confound targeting and jam transmissions. Six tons of Ferro-Fibrous armor."
The holo-robot displayed the details of the Mech with a simulated scene of the Mech in motion.
"The only difference between these and the one my boy brought with him to Colchester is that these don't have the Supercharger, so that reckless young and/or drunk fools don't ruin their Engines on racing Urbies. Only officer Super Urbanmechs get the Supercharger so they can chase down those idiots. They get a third Jump Jet instead to extend their jump range to ninety meters. Double Heatsinks mean that they never have to worry about heat issues."
Senior Warrant Officer Posseli let out an amazed "Huuh." He bent down to read the technical readout on the holo. "That sounds surprisingly potent."
"As I promised you have a full regiment - one hundred and forty-four mechs of these."
"A full regiment?!" Captain Allwine wheezed. He gave Major Stimson a look that said 'Okay I understand everything perfectly now'.
Major Stimson only scowled. "You promised TWO regiments."
Robotnik nodded by making the whole walker tilt its body up and down. "I did. And you'll have it. Let's move on."
-.
The next group of Urbanmechs had a smaller weapon in its right arm weapon pod and three lenses in the left. "The UMS-SPL, is for militia pilots that don't have good aim, which I think was expected from most of them. Built for more short-ranged combat, this laser vomit of a Mech ditches the Guardian ECM to have a Large Pulse laser on the right and three Medium Lasers on the left. Twelve DHS is enough to keep it cool. Jump range, 90 meters. Everything else identical to the standard Super Urbanmech that better rewards people with good aim."
"Could I get information on Large Pulse Lasers, please?" asked Posseli.
The holo-robot obliged. The tech hummed. "Seven tons, same as the ER PPC. But… only a little more than half the range of a regular PPC, but produces the same heat. Or to put it another way, 60% of the range of an AC/10. Only slightly more range than a standard Medium Laser. What was the point of developing these?"
"Within that range, extreme accuracy and short duration pulses that can strip almost as much armor as a standard PPC shot," replied Robotnik. "With the refire rate of these things in short-range combat? You're not going to miss being unable to mount an AC/20. You can strip armor so fast it's like flaying a Mech alive."
Major Stimson considered it. "Sounds better for fast mechs. How many of these Large Pulse Lasers do we get?"
"In weapons stocks? Hundreds. In Mechs? Thirty-six."
"Huh. Not that much."
"You can always refit standard Super Urbanmechs to these if your pilots are terrible at gunnery," Robotnik shrugged.
"Not likely. We're going to have to prioritize even more gunnery training from now."
"Then let's move on."
-
The next group of Urbanmechs had boxy missile launchers on each arm.
"The Super Urbanmech variant UMS-MSL is ammo-dependent with LRM10 with Artemis on the left, a pair of Streak SRM2s fed by a single ton of ammo on the right, each with a Medium Laser below that. For people with even poorer aim than that, maybe? I dunno."
"You have a very poor impression of the people that were originally supposed to receive these Mechs," Captain Allwine noticed.
"These were people who were for all they knew, going on a one-way trip into the void. People with irreplaceable skills they were not. That's why a lot of the information systems on this cache were so focused on education and on-site training."
"Fascinating. We do get those too, right?" asked Posseli.
"Of course."
"How many of these?" asked Major Stimson.
"Thirty-six."
"That makes half the regiment then. Sixty-four mechs left. I'm seeing a disposition based on combat roles here. What else?"
"Moving on-"
-.
The next Urbanmech had an even larger missile box on its left arm and a tiny Small Laser port on the right arm pod.
"The UMS-ARV is *slow*. It can only go up to fifty-four kilometers per hour. Its heatsinks are Standard. It has only THREE tons of Ferro Fibrous armor instead of six. It does still retain the sixty-meter jump jets though. Take a guess why?"
The two MechWarriors looked puzzled, but the ELH technician looked up at the Mechs and then beamed. With almost boyish glee he asked "Is that an Arrow IV missile artillery launcher?!"
"Correctamundo."
"Holy shit," said Captain Allwine.
"The UM-SSA comes with two tons of Arrow IV ammunition, each with five shots. Five shots of Thunder warheads, airbursting to deliver an instant minefield on the point. Then five shots of non-homing warheads are slightly less vulnerable to AMS since they are not targeting a Mech in particular, for area-of-effect devastation to entire enemy lances. We do have Arrow IV Homing missiles if you place TAG on other mechs on the battle line though."
"How many?!" Major Stimson clenched his fists in front of his face and roared.
"Thirty six."
He raised his arms. "A Battalion of fucking artillerymechs, FUCK YES."
"This… this changes things," murmured Capt. Allwine. "Even if it's slow, it has Jump Jets. It can go where Long Toms can't."
"Even better, it can do shoot and scoot to avoid artillery counter-battery fire in a way Long Toms can't. We can only count on Long Toms being able to outrange everything to avoid this, but… organic artillery support that can combat-drop with Strike lances? This is maximum aggression, sir. No one is prepared for this. No one."
Major Stimson looked up wild-eyed towards the Robotnik walker's blank goggle-like eye ports. "That's three-fourths of the regiment down. I don't know - what do you have left that could top this?"
Robotnik waggled from side to side and laughed. "Then let me surprise you - if you're smart, you're going to understand why this is the best of all."
-.
Next up:
"The Urbanmech UMS-SCG "Super Comms Guard" is slightly faster than your regular Super Urbanmech, it can go 97 km per hour on 180-rated XL Engine. It has four Jump Jets letting it jump 120 meters. It has a pair of Medium Pulse Lasers in each arm to quickly make die some bugmechs think they found some easy prey."
The Super Urbanmech in question didn't look too different, apart from its antennas maybe taller than the usual. The domelike 'head' of the Urbanmech had a round protrusion like the lights on a miner's helmet.
"It's fast, but this leaves it with plenty of tons and volume - which it uses to contain four tons of advanced Star League Communications Equipment that can make contact with satellites and coordinate and relay transmissions across a very wide radius. It carries a Beagle Active Probe to spot and classify enemies and passively listen in to transmissions and counteract jamming. It has an advanced Recon Camera to passively and optically track and spot enemies for artillery. It packs a Remote Sensor Dispenser and with its communication suites is able to monitor five Remote Sensors at the same time and is able to pick up recon data as soon as it enters maximum range of a previously-deployed sensor.
It can't transmit targeting data, but it can transmit literally all other information about the enemy to each other, either through satlink or skywave, then to the HQ. To put things into perspective - this packs a better communications suite than what DropShips have - and those have to communicate across interplanetary distances!"
Major Stimson stared dully at Robotnik. Then after a while, he spoke: "Okay. I admit it. That's pretty damn good, Robotnik. That's more valuable than the artillerymechs."
"Pardon me, sir - but I don't understand," said Captain Allwine. "Isn't it just a scout mech?"
"It's not just a Scout mech. It's an information control mech. Scout Mechs report *to* it. It's a Mobile HQ that can run. It makes the whole Regiment act on real-time updated information as one unit instead of each Battalion doing their own thing collecting their own recon information and passing it on. You should understand how important this is - Recon companies aren't made to fight the enemy unless we're forced to, we find them then we give their location to the Strike companies. When we fought the Dragoons on Hoff, other than the line Heavies, it's Recon Lances that got hit hard when forced to fight because we didn't have the tons and weapons for it."
"Sir, my apologies, but I still don't quite get it. How would this help?"
"I made my Command Lance out of Light Mechs to get to where I'm needed. You think I did that hoping to turn the tide of battle with a bunch of twenty or thirty-tonners? No. Where I'm needed is where I need to go so I can *know*. We had to get into combat range just so that command could have a picture on what's happening and where.
"What do you think really keeps us from reforming the 21st Regiment? Lack of Mechs? We can get that. Lack of pilots? We can train that. Lack of DropShips? We could seize that from our enemies. No, the problem is that we reached the limit of being able to command a regiment long ago. We can't even deploy two regiments at the same time and hope to coordinate effectively. When we fought on Hoff, it was the biggest fight the Light Horse fought since the defense of Hesperus II - and just like that time, we had to piggyback on the command and control apparatus of the Great Houses to handle anything close to regimental in scale.
"We fought Hoff and we survived that… but it was in small pockets of fighting that we only managed to move as one big force only when we're in sight of each other. We could have rolled the Dragoons all the way back to their DropShips if Kerensky didn't break our flank. If our Heavies just *knew* she was there-
"We fought Hoff as a cat-and-mouse game, but even when we could draw away lances of the Dragoons, we could never combine force to defeat them in detail because we just couldn't be *sure* where the rest of the enemy is without exposing a weakness in our own battle lines. We had to pull them to our lines where we had knowledge of who was where, but that's just conceding space and time. This violated Principle Two - what is that?"
Allwine answered "Offensive. When given the chance, attack and remain on the offensive for as long as possible. The enemy is weakest when backing up, and so are you."
"Right. They had more confidence because they were a Dragoons regiment of Heavies and Mediums, and they knew a Light Horse regiment was mostly Mediums and Lights and they just needed to keep pushing-
"But if we just had complete knowledge of the battlespace… speed. Finally. You can leverage that."
"You can do the Mongol," said Robotnik.
"What?" asked Posseli.
Major Stimson nodded. He immediately got the point. "Hit the enemy hard and retreat then attack again from another direction, so fast that the enemy thinks you are two different attackers and that you have more fighters on the field than you do. Maximum havoc. Maximum confusion."
"I see. So… if we go back to the fundamental principles, that's Seven, Eight, and Nine. No, wait - Principle Two should be the most important here-" Captain Allwine pondered. "Unity of Command. Always know who is above and below you in the chain of command and what they are doing. It will not only help you in times of trouble, but it will also give you a better sense of how your mission fits into the overall picture."
"Right. Unity of Command. Then Surprise. Intelligence. Simplicity. Having Jump Artillery is an operational solution. This? This is strategy. It makes everything else happen." Major Stimson moved his open palms in a curving wave as if tracing a rainbow.
Captain Allwine nodded. "I see. And… what makes this even better is that it can adequately defend itself. Scout command mech?"
"Ah, and that reminds me -" added Posseli. "This would be great to integrate into artillery formations, because having updated knowledge of the local battlespace prevents someone from sneaking through and taking out your valuable and almost defenseless artillery units."
Major Stimson pointed firmly at the Mech to his left. "There's thirty-six of these. Now the Eridani Light Horse has five regiments, equal in numbers if not in wargear to the Wolf's Dragoons. We can even put one in every battalion, down to every Battallion Command Lance having satlink access to all other Light Horse formations on-planet.
"If the enemy force has taken out the satellites? They're going to expect that would leave us blind to the larger battlespace, like what most mercenaries face. Everything our recon groups gather - we could bounce direct-wave information off recon aircraft if we have to, without having to risk aerospace anywhere close to where the enemy can shoot at them." He swept his arm angrily down. "This thing is too valuable to lose, everything else that is Urbanmech-shaped is a decoy."
"Nyeeee… actually. You do remember that the SLDF Communication Equipment is only 4 tons, right? Active Probe is one and a half tons. Recon Camera and Remote Sensors, half a ton each. Depending on what you chose to leave behind, you could easily assemble thirty-six more from, say, one hundred forty-four tons of cargo. Get that by refitting Regular Super Urbanmechs, or even non-Super Urbanmechs."
"DUMP EVERYTHING THAT ISN'T THIS! All other cargo is extra!" the Major spun around to point at Senior Warrant Office Posseli. Then to Robotnik. "How many of these SLDF Comm Suites do you have here anyway?"
"Two hundred."
Stimson's hand dropped to his side. He grimaced at Robotnik in consternation. "That's… eight hundred tons. The hell why a colony effort would need that many battlefield control and communications equipment instead of more food and clean water and medicine?"
Robotnik made another small full-body nod. "You will understand later when we can talk about the DropShips - but in short, when the SEEDCORN colonies arrive at their chosen planet, they would be *mandated* to have full coverage monitoring of the entire world. Why? Again, later."
The Major also nodded. "Fair enough." Then he turned his head and grimaced again. "But… there's still more Mechs here. What's this about?"
Robotnik's walker began rubbing its palms together eagerly.
Last edited:
Praetorian13
Know what you're doing yet?
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This is hilarious. All shall fear and loath the super trash cans. The sheer hatred these will cause from the clanners will be glorious.
4.4 Raiders of the Lost Urbie
bluepencil
The tropics will be uninhabitable.
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Next were a line of Urbanmechs that seemed like they couldn't decide if they wanted to be Jenners or Phoenix Hawks, with squatter more disc-shaped body that extended to the back with what seemed to be a backpack engine pods. The weapon arms were much lower on the body, right at the hip level, and seemed to be covered by a thin triangular slab of armor.
"What are these?" asked Major Stimson.
"Urbanmech LAM."
Everyone paused in mid-step. Stimson took a deep calming breath, turned towards Robotnik and said with a wry smile "Robotnik, I respect you. I am grateful for everything that you have done and the Eridani Light Horse will do all we can to live up to your expectations of us," then he raised a finger "BUT DON'T SCREW WITH MEEEE!"
"Sir!" Lieutenant Allwine gasped at this vulgarity.
Robotnik's walked slapped its palms over its great round belly, threw its body back, and laughed. "MU HA HA HA HA HA" then it straightened backed up again. "But I'm serious."
Senior Warrant Office Fosseli frowned and scratched at his bushy eyebrows. "Would even the Star League… how would that even work? I mean, I know a lot of ASFs are themselves flying bricks that would crash as soon as they turned off their thrusters - with enough trust even an elephant may fly, but how would Urbanmech LAM even work?"
Robotnik's walked stomped around in place and bobbed its body in a nod. "Good point. You know how LAMs have three modes, right?"
Fosseli nodded back. "Mech Mode. AirMech Mode. Then Fighter Mode. The Eridani Light Horse operates multiple Land-Air Mechs in our Recon Lances too."
Robotnik pointed to the Urbanmech to his right. "UM-LAM! Enter AirMech Mode!"
The machine gave out a mechanical whine and turned on its signal lights. Then with a series of clicks and whirs - the arm pods flicked 90 degrees up to turn into arm wings, and out from the undercarriage of the UM-LAM's back, a pair of larger wings swung up and clicked into place.
Jump Jets warmed up, steaming the air around the Mech's legs in preparation for primary ignition.
"Wait, that's it?" Fosseli responded.
"No fancy transformation sequences here!" Robotnik bellowed. "None of that modular transformation magical mecha nonsense!"
Fosseli's weathered face twisted up even more. "... I suppose if you squint" and here he did actually squint at the Mechs "It could resemble a Sparrowhawk or a Sholagar maybe a little…"
The walking holorobot helpfully provided models of the ASFs in question. The Sparrowhawk was just one bulb-shaped cockpit that had two laser guns jutting right out of the front, wings protruding off the side and a vertical tail stabilizer on top like a hat. The Sholagar was a disc-shaped fighter, a circular wing design that leads to many crashes in an atmosphere but its speed made it an excellent light fighter in space operations.
"The UM-LAM, Urbanmech LAM *is* a proven design. At forty-tons, it's heavier than its namesake mech. Most of that goes into the backpack assembly and reinforcing the legs to support Jump Jets. In Mech mode, it can run eighty-six kph and has five Jump Jets to leap one hundred twenty meters.
"In AirMech mode, the increased surface area extends this to four hundred fifty meters, even six hundred gliding reach at maximum burn, and triggering the jets every four-hundred meters, can stay up in the air at low altitudes pretty much indefinitely - as long as the pilot doesn't care that his flight is more like a zigzag falling and bouncing right above treetops. Mess that up and they crumple."
Stimson sucked in breath through his teeth. He said while a discontented whine "At least a Stinger LAM looks vaguely like aircraft in AirMech mode."
"Sir…"
"Yes, Lieutenant?"
"Charitably speaking, the Urbanmech LAM could also be said to look vaguely like VTOL. Or hovercraft."
Stimson blinked. "That is a good point. Where are the thrusters on this thing?"
The holo of the UM-LAM appeared over the flat table-like surface of the holorobot. The body had one main thruster poking out the back, then two secondary thrusters on each back pod. Then the legs themselves each had a powerful thruster, fed by potentially vulnerable intakes at the knee section. Finally, two thrust vents redirected hot airflow from the main thruster out the front for VTOL mode landings in Fighter mode.
Seven openings for five powered Jump Jets that in Mech Mode collected compressed and heated air as jumpjet 'fuel' for jumping. This did not require any actual fuel, and what made Jump-capable Mechs capable of repeated jumping as long as they waited long enough for JumpJets to compress and superheat reaction mass in between leaps.
In fighter mode, these JumpJets would consume fuel for continuous operation.
Stimson hummed. "Okay, I can see it. Without any fancy transformation sequences, the pilot's torso location doesn't really change at all in any modes. In a Stinger LAM, that while torso section swings up and down between nose and center torso in the body. Here it just stays in the middle all the time. That's… a lot less confusing."
Posseli noted "Land-Air Mechs are notorious as hangar queens. The less finicky rotation sections that need to lock in precisely to change from a mech into a fighter the better. I hope that the easy servicing of a regular Urbanmech carries through to this machine."
"What does the Fighter mode of this Urbanmech LAM even look like?" Posseli then asked. "Just fold the legs backwards flat against the fuselage so that all five thrusters point in the same direction?"
The holo provided a simulation of the UM-LAM in flight. The readout promised that in Fighter mode, at least inside the atmosphere as a LAM lacked fuel for extended space operations, it had a safe thrust of around 900 km/h and a maximum thrust of 1440 km/h. That was quite slow as far as fightercraft could go, but the UM-LAM due to its inefficiently compact aerodynamic shape might have strange supermaneuverability compared to more conventional wing designs.
Robotnik pointed at the mech and ordered "UM-LAM, switch to Fighter mode!"
The Urbanmech LAM raised its chin and pointed its body all the way back to near vertical, exposing the flat frisbee-like underside of its torso. With a *sproing* sound, landing gear then deployed from the undercarriage.
Then the Urbanmech LAM tipped over to the side. Klonk.
Robotnik's walker raised its hands in triumph. "URBANMECH LAAAM!"
Everyone else looked towards Major Stimson. After a while, the man shrugged. "Eh. I'll take it."
"Sir-" Allwine ventured a counterpoint again.
"What is it, Lieutenant?"
"That's more than two regiments. Possibly technically LAMs are counted in aerospace instead?"
"Bonkers, that's right! Two regiments fit into six Bigwigs." He turned towards Robotnik "You did say that most of the Mechs were already preloaded into the DropShips. When you say you had thirty-six of a particular mech - does that include these mechs standing here?"
"No, I meant already into the MechBay cubicles. These are just extra."
"How many Urbanmech LAMs do we get?"
"Thirty-six."
"That's a full three companies of flyers. So that's in the seventh dropship, then?"
"No. the seventh DropShip is… special. The slots are full, if you want these you're going to have to leave something behind."
Stimson clutched at his chin with his left and and began tapping at his mustache with the index finger. "Dump the Pulse Laser Super Urbanmechs. If we need them, we can just refit ER PPC Super Urbies into them later." He paused as another thought occurred- "Wait, would these things fit even inside the gantries? I remember you said they were only good for Light Mechs. A forty-ton mech is a Medium."
"The bottom gantry cares more about height than mass," Robotnik replied. "This stands at the same height as a Super Urbanmech, which just happens to be half the height of a Phoenix Hawk too - and that PHX *is* forty-tons."
"So if you haven't loaded the Urbanmech LAMs yet, where are they?"
"Oh, they're on the ship."
"... how did you make them fit?"
Robotnik's walker made laughing motions again. "WA HA HA HA. I *knew* you would say that, so I didn't load the Pulse Laser Super Urbanmechs *at all*."
Major Stimson gave him a dull unamused stare. "You *are* screwing around with me. Stop that."
"There are even more Mechs here though," Lt. Allwine not-at-all-helpfully noted.
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"What are these are and why are they yellow?"
"These are UM-CIV, modular civilianized versions of the Orguss Urbanmech chassis. They may look like Urbanmechs from the outside, but inside they're all Industrial-grade tech. If you say a standard Urbanmech - a UM-R60 costs around 1.47 million C-bills, you can have these for around 880 thousand. They run on multifuel Internal Combustion Engines, and can go up to 54 kph."
"Whoa, that's actually pretty damn sensible for the Star League!" chuffed Posseli. "Um, no offense."
"None taken," replied Stimson. He turned towards Robotnik again "I don't think I would dump any combat Mechs for any Industrial Mechs, but tell me about them."
"That one there with the chainsaw and the single lift hoist and the fluid guns in the arms? That's a road clearing and fire-fighting mech I like to call the Ruralmech. That one with the double lift hoists where the arm pods would usually be? They can carry up to half their weight without problem or up to their weight with at halved speed - with two hitch points front and back preset in the gyro for 10 and 5 tons respectively. I call those the UrbanCarriers. That one there that looks the same, but in white and red? Those are UrbanRescue, they can go up to 64 kph and can carry medical and relief supplies through very inhospitable conditions that would prevent wheeled, tracked, and even flying vehicles from operating.
"There actually *is* a BattleMech-grade Urban Carrier - the UM-CRC, the Urbanmech Combat Recovery Vehicle - two of them totalling sixty tons can haul a hundred-ton Atlas in some sort of travois."
"Tarnation, you make these things sound terribly useful. It makes sense that a place like this would have them."
The group continued walking and talking.
"You can carry some of them off, just need to repurpose a Vehicle Bay for them. They're just thirty tons, after all's said and done. As long as there are enough tie-down points, you can treat any Mech or Vehicle Bay like general-purpose Cargo Bays. They won't be able to walk out on their own power, but again… just thirty tons. They can roll out on standard heavy machinery pallets if you gave it a serious try.
"You're not going to need all that many - there's full plans for manufacturing more and it's not going to be hard by any means to ask Davion interests to split a factory line. Heck, if the Eridani Light Horse wants some passive income, then buy a stake to that company in exchange for the schematics."
Posseli looked uncertain. "I don't know though, having actual arms might be useful. But an Urbanmech with arms just feels… wrong."
Robotnik pointed to the last UM-CIV on the line, which had a bulbous beer belly than the usual Urbanmech. Then from the torso pod it deployed a pair of crawfish-like arms ending in regular five-fingered hands like the SLDF Hussar Battlemech.
Posseli shielded his face from the sight. "Aah! What is this monstrosity?!"
"I just call it UM-HDN, Urban Handsy."
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As the group neared the spaceport area, Lt. Allwine perked up and pointed out again "Oh! What are these? These aren't Urbanmechs!"
Posseli looked from the last UM-CIV to the next series of Mechs. These mechs were so tiny even an Urbanmech could hide them from view. They did still look Urbanmech shaped, just more of an onion bulb than trashcan. Unlike Urbanmechs they had actual arms and hands, though more spindly and utilitarian, much like the one on Robotnik's walker.
"More Industrial Mechs? Hobby little walker robots, maybe?" They looked like little Urbanmechs with top hats. It was ridiculous.
"While most of the UrbanMechs here were derived from Orguss and SLDF plans, I am proud to say these are my own original invention! Robotnik's ULM-E series Ultralight BattleMechs! The fifteen-ton URBAN(L)ITE!"
"What?" Major Stimson blinked. He looked towards the Engineer. "Is that even possible?"
Posseli shrugged. "I actually don't know. Sub-twenty ton Mechs are not unusual for Industrial Mechs, but combat-rated BattleMechs? Doctor Robotnik, please explain."
"Oh come on. The Star League had Ultralight Mech technology just fine. You remember the Ambassador Mech? That was fifteen tons and could go one-seventy-seven kph! I know there's this whole Mech cult going on, but seriously. Diplomatic talks were conducted on top of them with both sides walking on unarmed Mechs as a symbol of good faith. Michael Cameron liked to travel to Council meetings on his personal Ambassador, named the 'Star of Terra'."
"I… did not actually know that," he replied. "Please continue."
"The ULM-NIT is fifteen tons, uses a XL 120 Engine, which weighs two tons, which lets it go up to almost one hundred thirty kph. Plus two standard jump jets to jump sixty meters. You remember the Urbanmech Comms Guard. The Urbanite is kitted out for recon and spotting for artillery. It has a Beagle Active Probe. It has a Recon Camera. It has Remote Sensor Dispensers. It can monitor two Remote Sensors at the same time and act as a relay for communications sending long-range comm signals only a BAP could detect to each other or BAP equipped aircraft. In case it gets caught, it has three tons of ferro-fibrous armor and a single Medium Laser. That's equivalent to three and a half tons of Standard armor, and wahey- this is as fast and even smaller than a Locust, and unlike a Locust - it can Jump."
"Huh," said Major Stimson.
"Huh," said Lt. Allwine.
"That's very reasonable!" said SWO Posseli.
"And normal MechWarriors can pilot these?" asked Stimson.
"It has what I call a Small Cockpit, which strips out redundant life support and comfort features like the chemical toilet and such, but yus. The Engine integrated heatsinks can't even be stressed by the Medium Laser and jumping all day. Pilots don't even have to wear a cooling jacket, though they probably would still hate being made to pee into a bottle."
"Robotnik, I want this. I need this. How many of them do you have and how many can we take with us?" Major Stimson spoke with fire in his eyes.
"URBANITES, COMPACT"
The Ultra-Light Mechs dropped all the same time to a crouch. They folded their arms forward on their chests - elbow to elbow, wrist to wrist. Weapon pods tilted fully upwards.
"Look at them. They so tiny. You can store four of them in a standard fifty ton Vehicle Bay if you had to. Anywhere from sixteen to forty-eight. Ninety-six if you're willing to exchange heavy tanks for them."
"Fascinating," remarked Posseli.
"UBANITES, UNPACK!"
The UltraLight Mechs raised back up again.
"What about that one?" asked Allwine, the lieutenant pointing to a ULM-NIT that looked like it had a backpack that melded into the head. A single baleful eye stared back at them above the cockpit vision slit.
"Oh, that's ULM-LSR, Urban Laser. That exchanges all the loadout and downgrading the engine for max speed of ninety-seven kph - just to carry a single ER Large Laser for a face. Mounted vertically with ninety-degree angle focusing lens, being able to outrange standard PPC has its perks. Technically you could replace everything with five Medium Lasers for maximum laser vomit too. It has enough DHS for that."
"Are you some sort of geniusss?!" Posseli squeaked.
"WA HA HA HA."
-.
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Senior Warrant Office Posseli thumbed the radio affixed to left side of his technician's vest. "Logistics One, this is Technical One, do you read me, over?"
"This is Logistics One, I read you, over." the radio returned.
"Reconfirm loading priority - Fusion Engines, then Communications Equipment, then ER PPC, then Arrow IV artillery missiles, then Double HeatSinks, then everything else. Need number and tonnage of engines, over."
Resident Engineer Kubler replied "Wait, what? We have those? Arrow IV artillery- hey! You! Find the artillery missiles!"
"We have those?!" another voice shouted excitedly from nearby.
Kubler continued "Technical One, it's been less than fifteen minutes. We're still just counting and double-checking the manifests. So far by the ratings we have one hundred twenty of Class-120 XL Engines at 2 tons each - total 240 tons; ninety of Class-150 XL Engines at 3 tons each, total 360 tons; thirty-six of Class-180 Engines at 3.5 tons each - total 126 tons. We also have here thirty-six Class-200 regular Fusion Engines at 8.5 tons each, and thirty-six Class-240 Fusion Engines at 8.5 tons each. Total Fusion 200, 306 tons. Total Fusion 240, 414 tons.
"XL Engines total tons, 726. Regular Fusion total tons is 720 tons. Combined, 1446 tons. Mule DropShip capacity budget, 8000 tons. Over."
Posseli looked pained. Apart from the 200-rated engine being good for LAMs, the Fusion 240 was also a very common Engine used in very many BattleMechs and ASFs. Anything 40, 60, or 80 tons could be readily expected to use a Fusion 240.
The 200-rated engines were immediately more useful because they were important reserves for any LAM problems. Dump the 240-rated engines or not? They were not lost technology, could buy them in the Inner Sphere well enough. But the ELH also had plenty of 60-ton tanks. That was 414 tons less of individual Double HeatSinks or Ferro-Fibrous armor. Two hundred units of Communications Equipment were already eight hundred tons.
"Doctor Robotnik, we need to know what is already inside your DropShips."
"YOUR DropShips, but sure, I was leading to that point already." The walker pointed towards the starport area. "Onwards, my little ponies!"
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Next were a line of Urbanmechs that seemed like they couldn't decide if they wanted to be Jenners or Phoenix Hawks, with squatter more disc-shaped body that extended to the back with what seemed to be a backpack engine pods. The weapon arms were much lower on the body, right at the hip level, and seemed to be covered by a thin triangular slab of armor.
"What are these?" asked Major Stimson.
"Urbanmech LAM."
Everyone paused in mid-step. Stimson took a deep calming breath, turned towards Robotnik and said with a wry smile "Robotnik, I respect you. I am grateful for everything that you have done and the Eridani Light Horse will do all we can to live up to your expectations of us," then he raised a finger "BUT DON'T SCREW WITH MEEEE!"
"Sir!" Lieutenant Allwine gasped at this vulgarity.
Robotnik's walked slapped its palms over its great round belly, threw its body back, and laughed. "MU HA HA HA HA HA" then it straightened backed up again. "But I'm serious."
Senior Warrant Office Fosseli frowned and scratched at his bushy eyebrows. "Would even the Star League… how would that even work? I mean, I know a lot of ASFs are themselves flying bricks that would crash as soon as they turned off their thrusters - with enough trust even an elephant may fly, but how would Urbanmech LAM even work?"
Robotnik's walked stomped around in place and bobbed its body in a nod. "Good point. You know how LAMs have three modes, right?"
Fosseli nodded back. "Mech Mode. AirMech Mode. Then Fighter Mode. The Eridani Light Horse operates multiple Land-Air Mechs in our Recon Lances too."
Robotnik pointed to the Urbanmech to his right. "UM-LAM! Enter AirMech Mode!"
The machine gave out a mechanical whine and turned on its signal lights. Then with a series of clicks and whirs - the arm pods flicked 90 degrees up to turn into arm wings, and out from the undercarriage of the UM-LAM's back, a pair of larger wings swung up and clicked into place.
Jump Jets warmed up, steaming the air around the Mech's legs in preparation for primary ignition.
"Wait, that's it?" Fosseli responded.
"No fancy transformation sequences here!" Robotnik bellowed. "None of that modular transformation magical mecha nonsense!"
Fosseli's weathered face twisted up even more. "... I suppose if you squint" and here he did actually squint at the Mechs "It could resemble a Sparrowhawk or a Sholagar maybe a little…"
The walking holorobot helpfully provided models of the ASFs in question. The Sparrowhawk was just one bulb-shaped cockpit that had two laser guns jutting right out of the front, wings protruding off the side and a vertical tail stabilizer on top like a hat. The Sholagar was a disc-shaped fighter, a circular wing design that leads to many crashes in an atmosphere but its speed made it an excellent light fighter in space operations.
"The UM-LAM, Urbanmech LAM *is* a proven design. At forty-tons, it's heavier than its namesake mech. Most of that goes into the backpack assembly and reinforcing the legs to support Jump Jets. In Mech mode, it can run eighty-six kph and has five Jump Jets to leap one hundred twenty meters.
"In AirMech mode, the increased surface area extends this to four hundred fifty meters, even six hundred gliding reach at maximum burn, and triggering the jets every four-hundred meters, can stay up in the air at low altitudes pretty much indefinitely - as long as the pilot doesn't care that his flight is more like a zigzag falling and bouncing right above treetops. Mess that up and they crumple."
Stimson sucked in breath through his teeth. He said while a discontented whine "At least a Stinger LAM looks vaguely like aircraft in AirMech mode."
"Sir…"
"Yes, Lieutenant?"
"Charitably speaking, the Urbanmech LAM could also be said to look vaguely like VTOL. Or hovercraft."
Stimson blinked. "That is a good point. Where are the thrusters on this thing?"
The holo of the UM-LAM appeared over the flat table-like surface of the holorobot. The body had one main thruster poking out the back, then two secondary thrusters on each back pod. Then the legs themselves each had a powerful thruster, fed by potentially vulnerable intakes at the knee section. Finally, two thrust vents redirected hot airflow from the main thruster out the front for VTOL mode landings in Fighter mode.
Seven openings for five powered Jump Jets that in Mech Mode collected compressed and heated air as jumpjet 'fuel' for jumping. This did not require any actual fuel, and what made Jump-capable Mechs capable of repeated jumping as long as they waited long enough for JumpJets to compress and superheat reaction mass in between leaps.
In fighter mode, these JumpJets would consume fuel for continuous operation.
Stimson hummed. "Okay, I can see it. Without any fancy transformation sequences, the pilot's torso location doesn't really change at all in any modes. In a Stinger LAM, that while torso section swings up and down between nose and center torso in the body. Here it just stays in the middle all the time. That's… a lot less confusing."
Posseli noted "Land-Air Mechs are notorious as hangar queens. The less finicky rotation sections that need to lock in precisely to change from a mech into a fighter the better. I hope that the easy servicing of a regular Urbanmech carries through to this machine."
"What does the Fighter mode of this Urbanmech LAM even look like?" Posseli then asked. "Just fold the legs backwards flat against the fuselage so that all five thrusters point in the same direction?"
The holo provided a simulation of the UM-LAM in flight. The readout promised that in Fighter mode, at least inside the atmosphere as a LAM lacked fuel for extended space operations, it had a safe thrust of around 900 km/h and a maximum thrust of 1440 km/h. That was quite slow as far as fightercraft could go, but the UM-LAM due to its inefficiently compact aerodynamic shape might have strange supermaneuverability compared to more conventional wing designs.
Robotnik pointed at the mech and ordered "UM-LAM, switch to Fighter mode!"
The Urbanmech LAM raised its chin and pointed its body all the way back to near vertical, exposing the flat frisbee-like underside of its torso. With a *sproing* sound, landing gear then deployed from the undercarriage.
Then the Urbanmech LAM tipped over to the side. Klonk.
Robotnik's walker raised its hands in triumph. "URBANMECH LAAAM!"
Everyone else looked towards Major Stimson. After a while, the man shrugged. "Eh. I'll take it."
"Sir-" Allwine ventured a counterpoint again.
"What is it, Lieutenant?"
"That's more than two regiments. Possibly technically LAMs are counted in aerospace instead?"
"Bonkers, that's right! Two regiments fit into six Bigwigs." He turned towards Robotnik "You did say that most of the Mechs were already preloaded into the DropShips. When you say you had thirty-six of a particular mech - does that include these mechs standing here?"
"No, I meant already into the MechBay cubicles. These are just extra."
"How many Urbanmech LAMs do we get?"
"Thirty-six."
"That's a full three companies of flyers. So that's in the seventh dropship, then?"
"No. the seventh DropShip is… special. The slots are full, if you want these you're going to have to leave something behind."
Stimson clutched at his chin with his left and and began tapping at his mustache with the index finger. "Dump the Pulse Laser Super Urbanmechs. If we need them, we can just refit ER PPC Super Urbies into them later." He paused as another thought occurred- "Wait, would these things fit even inside the gantries? I remember you said they were only good for Light Mechs. A forty-ton mech is a Medium."
"The bottom gantry cares more about height than mass," Robotnik replied. "This stands at the same height as a Super Urbanmech, which just happens to be half the height of a Phoenix Hawk too - and that PHX *is* forty-tons."
"So if you haven't loaded the Urbanmech LAMs yet, where are they?"
"Oh, they're on the ship."
"... how did you make them fit?"
Robotnik's walker made laughing motions again. "WA HA HA HA. I *knew* you would say that, so I didn't load the Pulse Laser Super Urbanmechs *at all*."
Major Stimson gave him a dull unamused stare. "You *are* screwing around with me. Stop that."
"There are even more Mechs here though," Lt. Allwine not-at-all-helpfully noted.
-.
-.
"What are these are and why are they yellow?"
"These are UM-CIV, modular civilianized versions of the Orguss Urbanmech chassis. They may look like Urbanmechs from the outside, but inside they're all Industrial-grade tech. If you say a standard Urbanmech - a UM-R60 costs around 1.47 million C-bills, you can have these for around 880 thousand. They run on multifuel Internal Combustion Engines, and can go up to 54 kph."
"Whoa, that's actually pretty damn sensible for the Star League!" chuffed Posseli. "Um, no offense."
"None taken," replied Stimson. He turned towards Robotnik again "I don't think I would dump any combat Mechs for any Industrial Mechs, but tell me about them."
"That one there with the chainsaw and the single lift hoist and the fluid guns in the arms? That's a road clearing and fire-fighting mech I like to call the Ruralmech. That one with the double lift hoists where the arm pods would usually be? They can carry up to half their weight without problem or up to their weight with at halved speed - with two hitch points front and back preset in the gyro for 10 and 5 tons respectively. I call those the UrbanCarriers. That one there that looks the same, but in white and red? Those are UrbanRescue, they can go up to 64 kph and can carry medical and relief supplies through very inhospitable conditions that would prevent wheeled, tracked, and even flying vehicles from operating.
"There actually *is* a BattleMech-grade Urban Carrier - the UM-CRC, the Urbanmech Combat Recovery Vehicle - two of them totalling sixty tons can haul a hundred-ton Atlas in some sort of travois."
"Tarnation, you make these things sound terribly useful. It makes sense that a place like this would have them."
The group continued walking and talking.
"You can carry some of them off, just need to repurpose a Vehicle Bay for them. They're just thirty tons, after all's said and done. As long as there are enough tie-down points, you can treat any Mech or Vehicle Bay like general-purpose Cargo Bays. They won't be able to walk out on their own power, but again… just thirty tons. They can roll out on standard heavy machinery pallets if you gave it a serious try.
"You're not going to need all that many - there's full plans for manufacturing more and it's not going to be hard by any means to ask Davion interests to split a factory line. Heck, if the Eridani Light Horse wants some passive income, then buy a stake to that company in exchange for the schematics."
Posseli looked uncertain. "I don't know though, having actual arms might be useful. But an Urbanmech with arms just feels… wrong."
Robotnik pointed to the last UM-CIV on the line, which had a bulbous beer belly than the usual Urbanmech. Then from the torso pod it deployed a pair of crawfish-like arms ending in regular five-fingered hands like the SLDF Hussar Battlemech.
Posseli shielded his face from the sight. "Aah! What is this monstrosity?!"
"I just call it UM-HDN, Urban Handsy."
-.
-.
As the group neared the spaceport area, Lt. Allwine perked up and pointed out again "Oh! What are these? These aren't Urbanmechs!"
Posseli looked from the last UM-CIV to the next series of Mechs. These mechs were so tiny even an Urbanmech could hide them from view. They did still look Urbanmech shaped, just more of an onion bulb than trashcan. Unlike Urbanmechs they had actual arms and hands, though more spindly and utilitarian, much like the one on Robotnik's walker.
"More Industrial Mechs? Hobby little walker robots, maybe?" They looked like little Urbanmechs with top hats. It was ridiculous.
"While most of the UrbanMechs here were derived from Orguss and SLDF plans, I am proud to say these are my own original invention! Robotnik's ULM-E series Ultralight BattleMechs! The fifteen-ton URBAN(L)ITE!"
"What?" Major Stimson blinked. He looked towards the Engineer. "Is that even possible?"
Posseli shrugged. "I actually don't know. Sub-twenty ton Mechs are not unusual for Industrial Mechs, but combat-rated BattleMechs? Doctor Robotnik, please explain."
"Oh come on. The Star League had Ultralight Mech technology just fine. You remember the Ambassador Mech? That was fifteen tons and could go one-seventy-seven kph! I know there's this whole Mech cult going on, but seriously. Diplomatic talks were conducted on top of them with both sides walking on unarmed Mechs as a symbol of good faith. Michael Cameron liked to travel to Council meetings on his personal Ambassador, named the 'Star of Terra'."
"I… did not actually know that," he replied. "Please continue."
"The ULM-NIT is fifteen tons, uses a XL 120 Engine, which weighs two tons, which lets it go up to almost one hundred thirty kph. Plus two standard jump jets to jump sixty meters. You remember the Urbanmech Comms Guard. The Urbanite is kitted out for recon and spotting for artillery. It has a Beagle Active Probe. It has a Recon Camera. It has Remote Sensor Dispensers. It can monitor two Remote Sensors at the same time and act as a relay for communications sending long-range comm signals only a BAP could detect to each other or BAP equipped aircraft. In case it gets caught, it has three tons of ferro-fibrous armor and a single Medium Laser. That's equivalent to three and a half tons of Standard armor, and wahey- this is as fast and even smaller than a Locust, and unlike a Locust - it can Jump."
"Huh," said Major Stimson.
"Huh," said Lt. Allwine.
"That's very reasonable!" said SWO Posseli.
"And normal MechWarriors can pilot these?" asked Stimson.
"It has what I call a Small Cockpit, which strips out redundant life support and comfort features like the chemical toilet and such, but yus. The Engine integrated heatsinks can't even be stressed by the Medium Laser and jumping all day. Pilots don't even have to wear a cooling jacket, though they probably would still hate being made to pee into a bottle."
"Robotnik, I want this. I need this. How many of them do you have and how many can we take with us?" Major Stimson spoke with fire in his eyes.
"URBANITES, COMPACT"
The Ultra-Light Mechs dropped all the same time to a crouch. They folded their arms forward on their chests - elbow to elbow, wrist to wrist. Weapon pods tilted fully upwards.
"Look at them. They so tiny. You can store four of them in a standard fifty ton Vehicle Bay if you had to. Anywhere from sixteen to forty-eight. Ninety-six if you're willing to exchange heavy tanks for them."
"Fascinating," remarked Posseli.
"UBANITES, UNPACK!"
The UltraLight Mechs raised back up again.
"What about that one?" asked Allwine, the lieutenant pointing to a ULM-NIT that looked like it had a backpack that melded into the head. A single baleful eye stared back at them above the cockpit vision slit.
"Oh, that's ULM-LSR, Urban Laser. That exchanges all the loadout and downgrading the engine for max speed of ninety-seven kph - just to carry a single ER Large Laser for a face. Mounted vertically with ninety-degree angle focusing lens, being able to outrange standard PPC has its perks. Technically you could replace everything with five Medium Lasers for maximum laser vomit too. It has enough DHS for that."
"Are you some sort of geniusss?!" Posseli squeaked.
"WA HA HA HA."
-.
-.
Senior Warrant Office Posseli thumbed the radio affixed to left side of his technician's vest. "Logistics One, this is Technical One, do you read me, over?"
"This is Logistics One, I read you, over." the radio returned.
"Reconfirm loading priority - Fusion Engines, then Communications Equipment, then ER PPC, then Arrow IV artillery missiles, then Double HeatSinks, then everything else. Need number and tonnage of engines, over."
Resident Engineer Kubler replied "Wait, what? We have those? Arrow IV artillery- hey! You! Find the artillery missiles!"
"We have those?!" another voice shouted excitedly from nearby.
Kubler continued "Technical One, it's been less than fifteen minutes. We're still just counting and double-checking the manifests. So far by the ratings we have one hundred twenty of Class-120 XL Engines at 2 tons each - total 240 tons; ninety of Class-150 XL Engines at 3 tons each, total 360 tons; thirty-six of Class-180 Engines at 3.5 tons each - total 126 tons. We also have here thirty-six Class-200 regular Fusion Engines at 8.5 tons each, and thirty-six Class-240 Fusion Engines at 8.5 tons each. Total Fusion 200, 306 tons. Total Fusion 240, 414 tons.
"XL Engines total tons, 726. Regular Fusion total tons is 720 tons. Combined, 1446 tons. Mule DropShip capacity budget, 8000 tons. Over."
Posseli looked pained. Apart from the 200-rated engine being good for LAMs, the Fusion 240 was also a very common Engine used in very many BattleMechs and ASFs. Anything 40, 60, or 80 tons could be readily expected to use a Fusion 240.
The 200-rated engines were immediately more useful because they were important reserves for any LAM problems. Dump the 240-rated engines or not? They were not lost technology, could buy them in the Inner Sphere well enough. But the ELH also had plenty of 60-ton tanks. That was 414 tons less of individual Double HeatSinks or Ferro-Fibrous armor. Two hundred units of Communications Equipment were already eight hundred tons.
"Doctor Robotnik, we need to know what is already inside your DropShips."
"YOUR DropShips, but sure, I was leading to that point already." The walker pointed towards the starport area. "Onwards, my little ponies!"
-.
-.
Praetorian13
Know what you're doing yet?
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This continues to be a delight to read. An Urbanmech LAM. I don't even...I have to admit my reaction was like Stimson and that was after I read it twice just to make sure my eyes were working. With that said, with them have no super complex transformation sequence they should be hard to damage and easier to repair.
UM-LAM Urbanmech LAM
bluepencil
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UrbanMech UM-LAM
Mass: 40 tons
Chassis: Standard LAM
Power Plant: 200 Fusion
Cruising Speed: 54 kph
Maximum Speed: 86.4 kph
Armor: Standard
Armament:
1 ER Large Laser
1 Medium Pulse Laser
Communication System: Unknown
Targeting & Tracking System: Unknown
Introduction Year: 3060
Tech Rating/Availability: E/X-X-F-F
Cost: 3,351,367 C-bills
Type: UrbanMech
Technology Base: Inner Sphere (Experimental)
Tonnage: 40
Battle Value: 1,309
| Equipment | Mass | |
|---|---|---|
| Internal Structure | 4 | |
| LAM Conversion Equipment | 4 | |
| Engine | 200 Fusion | 8.5 |
| Walking MP: | 5 | |
| Running MP: | 8 | |
| Jumping MP: | 5 | |
| AirMech Cruising MP: | 15 | |
| AirMech Flanking MP: | 23 | |
| Safe Thrust: | 5 | |
| Max Thrust: | 8 | |
| Double Heat Sink: | 10 [20] | |
| Gyro: | 2 | |
| Small Cockpit: | 2 | |
| Armor Factor: | 120 | 7.5 |
|
Internal Structure |
Armor Value |
|
|---|---|---|
| Head | 3 | 9 |
| Center Torso | 12 | 16 |
| Center Torso (rear) | 5 | |
| R/L Torso | 10 | 14 |
| R/L Torso (rear) | 4 | |
| R/L Arm | 6 | 10 |
| R/L Leg | 10 | 17 |
|
Weapons and Ammo |
Location | Critical | Tonnage |
|---|---|---|---|
| Jump Jet | LL | 1 | 0.5 |
| Jump Jet | CT | 1 | 0.5 |
| Jump Jet | RT | 1 | 0.5 |
| 2 Double Heat Sink | RT | 6 | 2 |
| Bomb Bay | RT | 1 | 1 |
| Medium Pulse Laser | LA | 1 | 2 |
| Jump Jet | LT | 1 | 0.5 |
| Bomb Bay | LT | 1 | 1 |
| Jump Jet | RL | 1 | 0.5 |
| Recon Camera | HD | 1 | 0.5 |
| ER Large Laser | RA | 2 | 5 |
UM-CIV Ruralmech
bluepencil
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You all think I'm joking about this.bluepencil said:
Code:
Ruralmech Retrotech UM-CIV
Mass: 30 tons
Tech Base: Inner Sphere
Chassis Config: Biped IndustrialMech
Rules Level: Experimental Tech
Era: All Eras (non-canon)
Tech Rating/Era Availability: D/D-D-D-D
Production Year: 2750
Dry Cost: 881,393 C-Bills
Total Cost: 884,893 C-Bills
Battle Value: 141
Chassis: Unknown Industrial
Power Plant: Unknown 90 I.C.E.
Walking Speed: 32.4 km/h
Maximum Speed: 54.0 km/h
Jump Jets: None
Jump Capacity: 0 meters
Armor: Unknown Industrial
Armament:
1 Chainsaw
1 Searchlight
1 Sprayer
1 Fuel Tank
1 Lift Hoist
Manufacturer: Unknown
Primary Factory: Unknown
Communications System: Unknown
Targeting and Tracking System: Unknown
================================================================================
Equipment Type Rating Mass
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Internal Structure: Industrial 51 points 6.00
Engine: I.C.E. Engine 90 6.00
Walking MP: 3
Running MP: 5
Jumping MP: 0
Heat Sinks: Single Heat Sink 0 0.00
Gyro: Standard 1.00
Cockpit: Industrial 3.00
Actuators: L: SH+UA+LA R: SH+UA+LA+H
Armor: Industrial AV - 21 2.00
Internal Armor
Structure Factor
Head 3 8
Center Torso 10 3
Center Torso (rear) 0
L/R Torso 7 2
L/R Torso (rear) 0
L/R Arm 5 1
L/R Leg 7 2
================================================================================
Equipment Location Heat Critical Mass
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Fuel Tank RT 0 1 1.00
Searchlight LT 0 1 0.50
Lift Hoist LT 0 3 3.00
Sprayer RA 0 1 0.50
Chainsaw LA - 5 5.00
@Sprayer (Coolant) (10) RA - 1 1.00
@Sprayer (Water) (10) RA - 1 1.00
Free Critical Slots: 35
BattleForce Statistics
MV S (+0) M (+2) L (+4) E (+6) Wt. Ov Armor: 1 Points: 1
3 0 0 0 0 1 0 Structure: 3
Special Abilities: SRCH, MEL, SAW, ENE, SRCH, EE
Urbanmech Evolution
bluepencil
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Actually somewhat decanonized since I'm moving the UrbanLord moniker into 90 tons and 100 tons being King Urbanmech.
5.1 The Death of Robotnik
bluepencil
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The Death of Robotnik 1
-.
-.
The Starport area could contain up to twelve dropships in two half-circular rows. It had the strange feeling of an amphitheater, and the first row was occupied by six DropShips and two occluded behind right beside the main elevator.
Only one DropShip could ever launch from the underground starport at a time, but the above-ground landing area could accommodate three. This was very inefficient, but given as this inclined tunnel was the most vulnerable way into the facility, the ELH officers thought it was reasonable for the sake of defensibility.
As they approached the rear of the starport, Posseli spoke up "Doctor Robotnik. I have two questions."
"Shoot."
"The first… well, I noticed that despite all the claims of these Super Urbanmechs being a unified and economical choice for colony defense… they do have some expensive technology in them, don't they? Extra-Light Engines, Double Heat Sinks, Ferro-Fibrous armor, ECM suites, artillery, and so on. Surely they can't be as cheap as that. Why give Urbanmechs so much advanced technology when they would be just fine with more mass-production components?"
"Isn't it obvious? They are Royal Super Urbanmechs, and this is clearly a Royal Operation. It's pure Terran Hegemony gear here."
"I have… three questions now," Posseli sighed. "But let me ask the second question first. You said you designed and produced the Urbanite-series of Ultra Light Mechs. That implies that there is a factory here that is capable of producing BattleMechs. Is this actually the case?"
"Yes. Of course there is."
Major Stimson grit his teeth and palmed his face. He groaned. "I don't want to have to fight off the entire Taurian Concordat for this. It's too close to the border. Any Davion interests planting down here sounds like the start of an invasion-"
He slowly drew his palm down his face until he sagged. "But destroying it just to deny it from those who would abuse it, that makes us no better than the barbarians who trashed the Inner Sphere through the Succession Wars."
"Technology is just technology. Lostech isn't magic. As long as you know the principles behind them, nothing is ever really lost. Machines aren't as important as people."
"If more people thought like that, we wouldn't be employed anymore for objective raiding. Somehow… I don't know… it might just be worth it," said Major Stimson.
Posseli agreed, and then continued "Onto my final question, then - what the hells is OPERATION SEEDCORN that needs all of this? What would be so important that the Star League kits itself out for some ultra long duration colony effort? Even if it's Urbanmechs, being so completely self-sufficient means they're going way out of reach from the Inner Sphere. Pure Terran Hegemony tech and personnel, this is some super secret stuff. What's out there?"
"I can't tell you that. Not right now. Only one of you will know, and then after knowing it… you're going to wish you didn't know."
"Ominous!" quipped Allwine.
Robotnik's walker just laughed again. "BWA HA HA HA."
Posseli raised his hands. "Okay. Okay. Fair enough. Could we just return to our original concern - what's actually inside those dropships?"
-.
The holorobot displayed six egg-shaped craft. At 121 meters tall, they were only 30% taller than the common Union DropShip but due to the volume square-cube law, could contain as much as three Unions.
"The SLDF left them behind because they were not worth taking compared to other ships. This means they also took with them the personnel transports and heavy cargo dropships. A thousand tons left over in a civilianized Dictator is barely anything."
Posseli nodded. "Understood. Figuring in the necessary cargo for a colonization effort - life support, supplies, terraforming equipment, maybe a modular factory… I can understand that there's a lot that would not be directly useful for a war."
"You know that Dictator-class DropShips have four levels, right? Three for a company of mechs, one for cargo, all stacked on top of each other. This is how that looks-"
The holorobot projected a view of the internals of the modified Dictator. "One hundred forty-for Mechs is a regiment, plus thirty-six times four of specialized variants, that's a clean two regiments. They fit neatly inside six Bigwigs."
The view turned into two rows of egg-shaped DropShips each with the two bottom decks highlighted in red.
"Then I told you that I filled two of the Bigwig cargo holds with Sub-Capital Lasers. At two hundred fifty tons each, that's eight SL/3. Too heavy to mount in Superheavy Support Vehicles, but each of them packs 85% of the firepower of a full-size Light Naval Laser at 75% the range and 35% the mass."
The dropships updated:
\ BIGWIG 1: Red Egg - CARGO FULL
\ BIGWIG 2: Orange Egg - CARGO FULL
\ BIGWIG 3: Yellow Egg - CARGO 50%
\ BIGWIG 4: Green Egg - CARGO 50%
\ BIGWIG 5: Blue Egg - CARGO EMPTY
\ BIGWIG 6: Indigo Egg - CARGO EMPTY
"Do we need eight of them though?" Posseli asked.
"You need at least six to be sure of being able to pop a Union in a single volley. Hanse Davion would give you a literal blank check for the chance to reverse-engineer any real WarShip-grade weaponry. One to disassemble, and another for backup in the inevitability that NAIS gets sabotaged."
"Wow, this alone would make this whole thing worth it," remarked Allwine. "I agree - Hanse Davion would pay out whatever we wanted just for this technology." Then he squinted suspiciously at Robotnik. "But does this technology actually… need… any reverse engineering?
"Heavy Sub-Capital Naval Laser is limited to transatmospheric ranges. Light Sub-Capital Naval Laser is light enough to have its aiming systems suitable for orbital bombardment. Do we really need to open that can of worms?"
The man winced.
"Heavy Sub-Capital Lasers are big enough that people ought not to think of turning Leopards into Pocket Warships too early. If they think these are the actual Light versions, they would be more focused on trying to upscale them. "
Major Stimson gave Robotnik's walker an odd look.
"What?"
"Doing everything with a mind towards the future… are you actually… no." He shook his head. "Later." He exhaled. "Okay. That's two DropShips removed from the list. What's the difference?"
"So the difference is that the third level is a Vehicle Bay with twelve cubicles. A normal combined-arms Command variant of the Dictator carries *eighteen vehicles*. These have twelve. I didn't tell you before that nine of the twelve bays are all Heavy Vehicle Bays, capable of accepting and repairing Combat Vehicles up to one hundred tons. And the three remaining vehicle bays each in all six of these DropShips in front of you… are Super-Heavy Vehicle Bays. Each capable of accepting up to *two hundred tons* of mobile machinery."
Robotnik's mustache quivered as the walker faced them. "And they are *full*."
Posselli's eyebrows raised. "Superheavy vehicles? No one makes those anymore. Unless they're industrial vehicles? I don't think the SLDF would need any more super trucks or mining vehicles either."
"Well it can't be that or else Doctor Robotnik here wouldn't be trailing off for drama so much," Stimson said with a twisted grin. "Get on with it, Doctor."
-.
The holo shifted to a large squat vehicle towing a trailer.
"This is the O-66 "Oppie" Oppenheimer Hazardous Material Recovery Vehicle (HMRV). It's a hundred fifty tons and was widely used in the First Succession Wars to clean up the fallout from nuclear, biological, and chemical attacks. Produced in large numbers on Caph when it was still part of the Terran Hegemony, the factory of Brown-Corning, Limited was destroyed by Draconis Combine raiders when they thought it was a BattleMech manufacturing facility.
"It comes in three parts-
"The first, the HRMV tractor unit, the actual "Oppie" is completely environmentally sealed unit with components like minesweeper, bulldozer, a backhoe, and twenty tons of sealed liquid storage. It has four manipulator arms, two sprayers, and four searchlights to assist in salvage operations. It has Paramedic equipment and a five-man personnel bay with hazard gear. I suppose it could also be used as an infantry bay if needed.
"The other part is the Oppie Salvage Rig, which is also with two Lift Hoist, searchlights, and a backhoe. It's also a hundred fifty tons, with a handling capacity of two hundred.
"The most interesting part is the DeConAid trailer. They're environmentally sealed MASH units with *eleven* operating theaters. They also have sprayers mounted externally in omnidirectional turrets.
"Of the eighteen Superheavy Bays, three full sets of Oppie rigs - therefore nine 150-ton units - occupy those bays. All of them specced for cleaning and terraforming of tainted worlds."
"I can see how a colony effort would find those very useful," remarked Posseli. "This is the kind of lostech that the military don't care about but would actually do more to help the Inner Sphere."
"I don't know, the ability to handle nuclear, biological, and chemical weapons of mass destruction would be very valuable too. Just because we don't expect to get hit with WMDs doesn't mean it wouldn't be good to be prepared to deal with it," added Allwine.
Major Stimson only nodded. This made perfect sense for Operation SEEDCORN.
-.
The rotating image then shifted to a U-shaped vehicle with a crane.
"This is the Wayland Mobile Base. Produced for Hegemony Armed Forces starting 2541, it is a one hundred fifty ton support vehicle designed for the recovery and repair of combat units on the field. Unlike the JI-50 sixty-ton Field Repair Unit that the Davions use, the Wayland Mobile Base is capable of repairing anything that is a combat unit. Mechs, tanks, ASF. It has the tooling to handle the repair of Extra Light Fusion Engines and Endo Steel frames. It can deploy a Mobile Field Base to handle multiple units at once. It can travel at a reasonable speed of fifty-four kph. As far as I know, no Wayland Mobile Bases survived the First Succession Wars."
Engineer Posseli rushed at the holo-robot again. "I remember this! Eridani Light Horse used to have them until they were destroyed in the raid in the Periphery, forcing the Light Horse to consider finding work back in the Inner Sphere." He turned sharply towards Robotnik "How many of them do we get?"
"Three."
His lips turned down. That left six more mysterious Superheavy vehicles. "Well… that's better than nothing, I suppose. I'm going to have to petition that Davion doesn't get ANY of them. We need them too much. One for each Regiment sounds about right."
"But the only way we can get any more of them is if we allow someone else to reverse-engineer them and then manufacture them," said Allwine.
"Yeah, also - we have enough Mechs for *five* regiments now," reminded Stimson.
"Ugh. You're right. It's hard trying to get rid of the zero-sum thinking of these Succession Wars. The Eridani Light Horse isn't in the heavy industry business." Then Posseli blinked. "But… could we?"
He turned towards the walker "Doctor Robotnik, once we're back in Davion space - your genius could do more than all the hardware we could bring. Davion has their Doctor Banzai, just say what you want and you'll have the entire ELH Engineering Corps backing you all the way."
Major Winston looked pained.
Robotnik's walker raised its palms. "That is unfortunately out of the question. I won't survive the journey."
"Yeah… I didn't know how to properly bring this up, but Robotnik - you sent those messages with an intro like 'if you're viewing this holo, then that means I am dead'. I really didn't expect to see you still alive, but I suppose it's a miracle enough. It's not like a man can properly predict the day of his death." Major Winston waved towards the Robotnik walker's spherical body. "Is that some life support pod or something?"
"Or something. Yes. Definitely."
Posseli looked despondent, but as someone also getting along in the years he could understand. Sometimes the best you could do was just to accept and prepare for the inevitable end. "So what's left for us?"
-.
The holo changed to an oval-shaped chassis.
"Of the six remaining Superheavy Bays - four are actually dedicated to a hundred-ton Hovervehicle and the Submersible Drones they carry.
"The Subnautical Drone Command Craft and the Subnautical Drone Carry Vehicle are each a hundred tons. The Nautical Drone command hovercraft has full satellite uplink and advanced underwater comm systems. It has four drone control systems with a range of around eighty kilometers. It can carry either one twenty-ton Sub-Drone or a 20-ton VTOL.
"The Nautical Drone Carry Vehicle carries four Drones, cargo, and can itself be piloted or controlled remotely. Both of them perform as blue water hovercraft with nothing particularly interesting or lostech in them other than their communication and control systems.
"No, what's more interesting is the Subnautical Expedition Drone."
The view expanded into an egg-shaped craft. "By itself, the Sub Drones are twenty tons with manipulators, sensors, and a larger arm for exploring and collecting samples. It has a crush depth of about two kilometers. All of this equipment leaves enough room for 4 tons of cargo. Orrr… you could put a five-shot Artemis-enabled Long-Range Torpedo or six-shot SRT system in there. The sea was never expected to be safe."
Posseli frowned slightly. "That… makes sense too. The SLDF wouldn't need those to retake Terra…? Would they?"
"SLDF CAAN Regiments would have their own better amphibious and submersible assets," said Allwine.
"But as I am DOCTOR ROBOTNIK, NIK OF ALL THAT IS BOTROB, I present to you-!" And the view flickered to show an egg-shaped craft with a propeller on top "The Aeronatical Drone Attack Craft! The EGG-FLYER!"
The Drone carried a single LRM-5 and a Medium Laser and a 2-ton Booby Trap in the torso. "But Robotnik, you might ask? Why have a 20-ton drone when you could just buy a Locust? It's not that much faster than a Locust," his voice went all tinny then back to bombastic normal- "Because it should cost half a Locust to produce and *of course* you can stick a Drone Command Unit in an Urbanmech.
"You can stick a Drone Command Unit in an Urbanmech LAM!
"My UltraLight Urbanite-Mechs benefit from cover so it's fine for them to be piloted. But close air support? You could just drop these in a second wave straight from orbit in a ballute system and activate the moment the Command Control Unit enters range. Heck, I'd say you can even *seed* planets ahead of time with them and activate the system when it's time to attack.
"Mechs are ton for ton the most efficient combat platform to transport across interstellar distance. But what if you didn't need to move between different planets? Dependents in wherever the Eridani Light Horse throws up a semi-permanent base wouldn't be left reliant on field military assets.
"Do I have AeroSpace Drones? The answer is also YES.
"The SLDF relied on drone technology for defense which bit them in the ass when Amaris took control over the SDS network. But these drones are entirely remote controlled. One-is-to-three for vehicle-based Remote Drone Control systems and one-to-one for Mech-based Drone Command Consoles. People have loyalty. Drones are disposable. People are not. I have the technology."
Everyone stared at him in silence.
Then after a while, Posseli shook his head sadly. "Truly, it is a tragedy."
-.
"So that's two remaining Superheavy Bays," Captain Allwine noticed. "What do you have that can top this, Doctor Robotnik?"
"Those are just the SLDF Ground Mobile HPG trucks, nothing fancy."
"Why must you try to break my miiinnnddd?!" Engineer Posseli hissed.
Major Stimson chortled.
-.
-.
Mobile HPGs that were not owned by ComStar might be of immense strategic importance to the Inner Sphere... but these were 50-ton machines in a superheavy command vehicle. The SLDF didn't bring them along because they had plenty of their own mobile HPGs already. There was no thinking of denying HPG technology to, say, the Taurian Concordat because the Taurian Concordat already had their own HPG installations. No one had any time to worry about anyone trying to reverse-engineer HPG tech - in fact, given how much the Terran Hegemony was aflame, perhaps they considered it an inevitability. They could not have predicted Comstar or just how effective Terran Hegemony blackboxing was.
But the Eridani Light Horse had no direct need for a mobile HPG, and these were technical staff and battalion-level commanders, so other than wondering at this pinnacle of lostech, this did not concern the group at all.
"But this is big news, sir!" said Posseli. "It could change everything!"
"Yeah, but how relevant is it to us right now?" replied Stimson.
"We could send an HPG message to Colchester that the mission was a success?"
"Woop te do. We can send mail for free."
Allwine nodded. "This sounds like a 'someone else's problem' thing. No need to get excited about what we're not smart enough to handle."
If Hanse Davion would be willing to pay them whatever they wanted for Capital Laser technology, a working mobile HPG could buy them a world.
Unfortunately having a world instead of just basing rights would bring them closer to being Davion vassals, so any equivalent price tag was a mess for high command to figure out.
There was more loot to unpack.
By comparison, the Heavy Vehicles were not as ground-breaking. For the remaining nine bays in each ship, Doctor Robotnik had loaded them with:
-.
\ Bay 1: 4x Urbanite Mechs (total 60 tons)
\ Bay 2: 4x Urbanite Mechs (total 60 tons)
\ Bay 3: empty
\ Bay 4: Cortez Series N Exploration Tank (75 tons)
-.
"We don't exactly need this, but a hazardous environment exploration vehicle might come in handy someday," said Posseli.
"Oh you *will* need them. There's a lot of abandoned, dead, radiated, or toxic worlds that you will need to investigate at some point."
"Doubly ominous!" said Alllwine.
-.
\ Bay 5: Pollux ADA Heavy Tank (75 tons)
\ Bay 6: Pollux ADA Heavy Tank (75 tons)
-.
"Actually, this answers the weird feeling I had that this colony didn't have enough air defense to it. Super Urbanmech PPCs and ER Large Lasers aren't ideal for AA work," said Stimson.
-.
\ Bay 7: Mobile Army Surgical and Bioscience Laboratory and Hospital (75 tons)
\ Bay 8: Mobile Geophysical Laboratory (75 tons)
-.
"More things that would have been very useful in the exploration of alien worlds," noted Posseli. "We are always in critical need of medical facilities, and something that can handle biowarfare without toting a Superheavy Vehicle would be most useful. And I suppose the other vehicle can be used for monitoring space."
"That is what they're made for, yes. They can also send and receive interplanetary communications or from Jump Points to Jump Ships. They pack an impracticably big a Fusion Engine not for speed but to pump up those signals."
Posseli wondered if they needed six of them though. Four seemed plenty. A standard Vehicle Bay could fit four 15-ton UltraLight mechs or two 20-ton Drone Flyers just fine, with enough securing lines to treat the empty bays as cargo bays.
And somehow-
-.
\ Bay 9: Alacorn Mk VI (95 tons)
-.
"Bullshit," breathed Posseli.
Stimson grinned. "SDLF Alacorns with triple Gauss Rifles? That is super suspicious, Doctor."
Robotnik waved it aside. "They were here for maintenance and were in a disassembled state with missing components. I only finished putting them back together."
Stimson pointed with both fingers. "Six Alacorn VIs that just happened to be too broken up to bring along, suuure they were."
-.
-.
By this time they had reached past the first row of DropShips to expose the seventh DropShip.
It was black and red. It had a wide flared mustache. Not even a painted-on mustache, but actual metal protruding off the hull. It had two comm dishes side by side that looked like big oval eyes.
The holo robot updated the list.
\ BIGWIG 7:V̶i̶o̶l̶e̶t̶ Violent Egg - BEWARE THE DEATH EGG AND ITS RAW FURY
"You know… as much as I didn't expect this, actually I think I was hoping for this," said Posseli. The engineer rubbed at his chin and nodded. "I certainly can't begrudge you your own personal DropShip. I am only concerned if those modifications would interfere with its atmospheric profile."
"Dropships are eggs and eggs don't have wings anyway," responded Allwine. "It should fly just fine." He turned towards Robotnik. "What wonders lie within, doctor? I'm ready to be awed some more. I have been practicing my 'shocked' face."
"Well what do *you* think it is?"
With a hushed tone, Posseli answered "It's the mobile factory, isn't it? That's the only thing that could top all of this. And it's the one thing that makes this whole operation work."
"Let's see if you're right!"
Robotnik's walker pointed to the lockers near the main door of the DropShip.
"But first you all need to put on these Radiation Suits."
-.
-.
-.
-.
The Starport area could contain up to twelve dropships in two half-circular rows. It had the strange feeling of an amphitheater, and the first row was occupied by six DropShips and two occluded behind right beside the main elevator.
Only one DropShip could ever launch from the underground starport at a time, but the above-ground landing area could accommodate three. This was very inefficient, but given as this inclined tunnel was the most vulnerable way into the facility, the ELH officers thought it was reasonable for the sake of defensibility.
As they approached the rear of the starport, Posseli spoke up "Doctor Robotnik. I have two questions."
"Shoot."
"The first… well, I noticed that despite all the claims of these Super Urbanmechs being a unified and economical choice for colony defense… they do have some expensive technology in them, don't they? Extra-Light Engines, Double Heat Sinks, Ferro-Fibrous armor, ECM suites, artillery, and so on. Surely they can't be as cheap as that. Why give Urbanmechs so much advanced technology when they would be just fine with more mass-production components?"
"Isn't it obvious? They are Royal Super Urbanmechs, and this is clearly a Royal Operation. It's pure Terran Hegemony gear here."
"I have… three questions now," Posseli sighed. "But let me ask the second question first. You said you designed and produced the Urbanite-series of Ultra Light Mechs. That implies that there is a factory here that is capable of producing BattleMechs. Is this actually the case?"
"Yes. Of course there is."
Major Stimson grit his teeth and palmed his face. He groaned. "I don't want to have to fight off the entire Taurian Concordat for this. It's too close to the border. Any Davion interests planting down here sounds like the start of an invasion-"
He slowly drew his palm down his face until he sagged. "But destroying it just to deny it from those who would abuse it, that makes us no better than the barbarians who trashed the Inner Sphere through the Succession Wars."
"Technology is just technology. Lostech isn't magic. As long as you know the principles behind them, nothing is ever really lost. Machines aren't as important as people."
"If more people thought like that, we wouldn't be employed anymore for objective raiding. Somehow… I don't know… it might just be worth it," said Major Stimson.
Posseli agreed, and then continued "Onto my final question, then - what the hells is OPERATION SEEDCORN that needs all of this? What would be so important that the Star League kits itself out for some ultra long duration colony effort? Even if it's Urbanmechs, being so completely self-sufficient means they're going way out of reach from the Inner Sphere. Pure Terran Hegemony tech and personnel, this is some super secret stuff. What's out there?"
"I can't tell you that. Not right now. Only one of you will know, and then after knowing it… you're going to wish you didn't know."
"Ominous!" quipped Allwine.
Robotnik's walker just laughed again. "BWA HA HA HA."
Posseli raised his hands. "Okay. Okay. Fair enough. Could we just return to our original concern - what's actually inside those dropships?"
-.
The holorobot displayed six egg-shaped craft. At 121 meters tall, they were only 30% taller than the common Union DropShip but due to the volume square-cube law, could contain as much as three Unions.
"The SLDF left them behind because they were not worth taking compared to other ships. This means they also took with them the personnel transports and heavy cargo dropships. A thousand tons left over in a civilianized Dictator is barely anything."
Posseli nodded. "Understood. Figuring in the necessary cargo for a colonization effort - life support, supplies, terraforming equipment, maybe a modular factory… I can understand that there's a lot that would not be directly useful for a war."
"You know that Dictator-class DropShips have four levels, right? Three for a company of mechs, one for cargo, all stacked on top of each other. This is how that looks-"
The holorobot projected a view of the internals of the modified Dictator. "One hundred forty-for Mechs is a regiment, plus thirty-six times four of specialized variants, that's a clean two regiments. They fit neatly inside six Bigwigs."
The view turned into two rows of egg-shaped DropShips each with the two bottom decks highlighted in red.
"Then I told you that I filled two of the Bigwig cargo holds with Sub-Capital Lasers. At two hundred fifty tons each, that's eight SL/3. Too heavy to mount in Superheavy Support Vehicles, but each of them packs 85% of the firepower of a full-size Light Naval Laser at 75% the range and 35% the mass."
The dropships updated:
\ BIGWIG 1: Red Egg - CARGO FULL
\ BIGWIG 2: Orange Egg - CARGO FULL
\ BIGWIG 3: Yellow Egg - CARGO 50%
\ BIGWIG 4: Green Egg - CARGO 50%
\ BIGWIG 5: Blue Egg - CARGO EMPTY
\ BIGWIG 6: Indigo Egg - CARGO EMPTY
"Do we need eight of them though?" Posseli asked.
"You need at least six to be sure of being able to pop a Union in a single volley. Hanse Davion would give you a literal blank check for the chance to reverse-engineer any real WarShip-grade weaponry. One to disassemble, and another for backup in the inevitability that NAIS gets sabotaged."
"Wow, this alone would make this whole thing worth it," remarked Allwine. "I agree - Hanse Davion would pay out whatever we wanted just for this technology." Then he squinted suspiciously at Robotnik. "But does this technology actually… need… any reverse engineering?
"Heavy Sub-Capital Naval Laser is limited to transatmospheric ranges. Light Sub-Capital Naval Laser is light enough to have its aiming systems suitable for orbital bombardment. Do we really need to open that can of worms?"
The man winced.
"Heavy Sub-Capital Lasers are big enough that people ought not to think of turning Leopards into Pocket Warships too early. If they think these are the actual Light versions, they would be more focused on trying to upscale them. "
Major Stimson gave Robotnik's walker an odd look.
"What?"
"Doing everything with a mind towards the future… are you actually… no." He shook his head. "Later." He exhaled. "Okay. That's two DropShips removed from the list. What's the difference?"
"So the difference is that the third level is a Vehicle Bay with twelve cubicles. A normal combined-arms Command variant of the Dictator carries *eighteen vehicles*. These have twelve. I didn't tell you before that nine of the twelve bays are all Heavy Vehicle Bays, capable of accepting and repairing Combat Vehicles up to one hundred tons. And the three remaining vehicle bays each in all six of these DropShips in front of you… are Super-Heavy Vehicle Bays. Each capable of accepting up to *two hundred tons* of mobile machinery."
Robotnik's mustache quivered as the walker faced them. "And they are *full*."
Posselli's eyebrows raised. "Superheavy vehicles? No one makes those anymore. Unless they're industrial vehicles? I don't think the SLDF would need any more super trucks or mining vehicles either."
"Well it can't be that or else Doctor Robotnik here wouldn't be trailing off for drama so much," Stimson said with a twisted grin. "Get on with it, Doctor."
-.
The holo shifted to a large squat vehicle towing a trailer.
"This is the O-66 "Oppie" Oppenheimer Hazardous Material Recovery Vehicle (HMRV). It's a hundred fifty tons and was widely used in the First Succession Wars to clean up the fallout from nuclear, biological, and chemical attacks. Produced in large numbers on Caph when it was still part of the Terran Hegemony, the factory of Brown-Corning, Limited was destroyed by Draconis Combine raiders when they thought it was a BattleMech manufacturing facility.
"It comes in three parts-
"The first, the HRMV tractor unit, the actual "Oppie" is completely environmentally sealed unit with components like minesweeper, bulldozer, a backhoe, and twenty tons of sealed liquid storage. It has four manipulator arms, two sprayers, and four searchlights to assist in salvage operations. It has Paramedic equipment and a five-man personnel bay with hazard gear. I suppose it could also be used as an infantry bay if needed.
"The other part is the Oppie Salvage Rig, which is also with two Lift Hoist, searchlights, and a backhoe. It's also a hundred fifty tons, with a handling capacity of two hundred.
"The most interesting part is the DeConAid trailer. They're environmentally sealed MASH units with *eleven* operating theaters. They also have sprayers mounted externally in omnidirectional turrets.
"Of the eighteen Superheavy Bays, three full sets of Oppie rigs - therefore nine 150-ton units - occupy those bays. All of them specced for cleaning and terraforming of tainted worlds."
"I can see how a colony effort would find those very useful," remarked Posseli. "This is the kind of lostech that the military don't care about but would actually do more to help the Inner Sphere."
"I don't know, the ability to handle nuclear, biological, and chemical weapons of mass destruction would be very valuable too. Just because we don't expect to get hit with WMDs doesn't mean it wouldn't be good to be prepared to deal with it," added Allwine.
Major Stimson only nodded. This made perfect sense for Operation SEEDCORN.
-.
The rotating image then shifted to a U-shaped vehicle with a crane.
"This is the Wayland Mobile Base. Produced for Hegemony Armed Forces starting 2541, it is a one hundred fifty ton support vehicle designed for the recovery and repair of combat units on the field. Unlike the JI-50 sixty-ton Field Repair Unit that the Davions use, the Wayland Mobile Base is capable of repairing anything that is a combat unit. Mechs, tanks, ASF. It has the tooling to handle the repair of Extra Light Fusion Engines and Endo Steel frames. It can deploy a Mobile Field Base to handle multiple units at once. It can travel at a reasonable speed of fifty-four kph. As far as I know, no Wayland Mobile Bases survived the First Succession Wars."
Engineer Posseli rushed at the holo-robot again. "I remember this! Eridani Light Horse used to have them until they were destroyed in the raid in the Periphery, forcing the Light Horse to consider finding work back in the Inner Sphere." He turned sharply towards Robotnik "How many of them do we get?"
"Three."
His lips turned down. That left six more mysterious Superheavy vehicles. "Well… that's better than nothing, I suppose. I'm going to have to petition that Davion doesn't get ANY of them. We need them too much. One for each Regiment sounds about right."
"But the only way we can get any more of them is if we allow someone else to reverse-engineer them and then manufacture them," said Allwine.
"Yeah, also - we have enough Mechs for *five* regiments now," reminded Stimson.
"Ugh. You're right. It's hard trying to get rid of the zero-sum thinking of these Succession Wars. The Eridani Light Horse isn't in the heavy industry business." Then Posseli blinked. "But… could we?"
He turned towards the walker "Doctor Robotnik, once we're back in Davion space - your genius could do more than all the hardware we could bring. Davion has their Doctor Banzai, just say what you want and you'll have the entire ELH Engineering Corps backing you all the way."
Major Winston looked pained.
Robotnik's walker raised its palms. "That is unfortunately out of the question. I won't survive the journey."
"Yeah… I didn't know how to properly bring this up, but Robotnik - you sent those messages with an intro like 'if you're viewing this holo, then that means I am dead'. I really didn't expect to see you still alive, but I suppose it's a miracle enough. It's not like a man can properly predict the day of his death." Major Winston waved towards the Robotnik walker's spherical body. "Is that some life support pod or something?"
"Or something. Yes. Definitely."
Posseli looked despondent, but as someone also getting along in the years he could understand. Sometimes the best you could do was just to accept and prepare for the inevitable end. "So what's left for us?"
-.
The holo changed to an oval-shaped chassis.
"Of the six remaining Superheavy Bays - four are actually dedicated to a hundred-ton Hovervehicle and the Submersible Drones they carry.
"The Subnautical Drone Command Craft and the Subnautical Drone Carry Vehicle are each a hundred tons. The Nautical Drone command hovercraft has full satellite uplink and advanced underwater comm systems. It has four drone control systems with a range of around eighty kilometers. It can carry either one twenty-ton Sub-Drone or a 20-ton VTOL.
"The Nautical Drone Carry Vehicle carries four Drones, cargo, and can itself be piloted or controlled remotely. Both of them perform as blue water hovercraft with nothing particularly interesting or lostech in them other than their communication and control systems.
"No, what's more interesting is the Subnautical Expedition Drone."
The view expanded into an egg-shaped craft. "By itself, the Sub Drones are twenty tons with manipulators, sensors, and a larger arm for exploring and collecting samples. It has a crush depth of about two kilometers. All of this equipment leaves enough room for 4 tons of cargo. Orrr… you could put a five-shot Artemis-enabled Long-Range Torpedo or six-shot SRT system in there. The sea was never expected to be safe."
Posseli frowned slightly. "That… makes sense too. The SLDF wouldn't need those to retake Terra…? Would they?"
"SLDF CAAN Regiments would have their own better amphibious and submersible assets," said Allwine.
"But as I am DOCTOR ROBOTNIK, NIK OF ALL THAT IS BOTROB, I present to you-!" And the view flickered to show an egg-shaped craft with a propeller on top "The Aeronatical Drone Attack Craft! The EGG-FLYER!"
The Drone carried a single LRM-5 and a Medium Laser and a 2-ton Booby Trap in the torso. "But Robotnik, you might ask? Why have a 20-ton drone when you could just buy a Locust? It's not that much faster than a Locust," his voice went all tinny then back to bombastic normal- "Because it should cost half a Locust to produce and *of course* you can stick a Drone Command Unit in an Urbanmech.
"You can stick a Drone Command Unit in an Urbanmech LAM!
"My UltraLight Urbanite-Mechs benefit from cover so it's fine for them to be piloted. But close air support? You could just drop these in a second wave straight from orbit in a ballute system and activate the moment the Command Control Unit enters range. Heck, I'd say you can even *seed* planets ahead of time with them and activate the system when it's time to attack.
"Mechs are ton for ton the most efficient combat platform to transport across interstellar distance. But what if you didn't need to move between different planets? Dependents in wherever the Eridani Light Horse throws up a semi-permanent base wouldn't be left reliant on field military assets.
"Do I have AeroSpace Drones? The answer is also YES.
"The SLDF relied on drone technology for defense which bit them in the ass when Amaris took control over the SDS network. But these drones are entirely remote controlled. One-is-to-three for vehicle-based Remote Drone Control systems and one-to-one for Mech-based Drone Command Consoles. People have loyalty. Drones are disposable. People are not. I have the technology."
Everyone stared at him in silence.
Then after a while, Posseli shook his head sadly. "Truly, it is a tragedy."
-.
"So that's two remaining Superheavy Bays," Captain Allwine noticed. "What do you have that can top this, Doctor Robotnik?"
"Those are just the SLDF Ground Mobile HPG trucks, nothing fancy."
"Why must you try to break my miiinnnddd?!" Engineer Posseli hissed.
Major Stimson chortled.
-.
-.
Mobile HPGs that were not owned by ComStar might be of immense strategic importance to the Inner Sphere... but these were 50-ton machines in a superheavy command vehicle. The SLDF didn't bring them along because they had plenty of their own mobile HPGs already. There was no thinking of denying HPG technology to, say, the Taurian Concordat because the Taurian Concordat already had their own HPG installations. No one had any time to worry about anyone trying to reverse-engineer HPG tech - in fact, given how much the Terran Hegemony was aflame, perhaps they considered it an inevitability. They could not have predicted Comstar or just how effective Terran Hegemony blackboxing was.
But the Eridani Light Horse had no direct need for a mobile HPG, and these were technical staff and battalion-level commanders, so other than wondering at this pinnacle of lostech, this did not concern the group at all.
"But this is big news, sir!" said Posseli. "It could change everything!"
"Yeah, but how relevant is it to us right now?" replied Stimson.
"We could send an HPG message to Colchester that the mission was a success?"
"Woop te do. We can send mail for free."
Allwine nodded. "This sounds like a 'someone else's problem' thing. No need to get excited about what we're not smart enough to handle."
If Hanse Davion would be willing to pay them whatever they wanted for Capital Laser technology, a working mobile HPG could buy them a world.
Unfortunately having a world instead of just basing rights would bring them closer to being Davion vassals, so any equivalent price tag was a mess for high command to figure out.
There was more loot to unpack.
By comparison, the Heavy Vehicles were not as ground-breaking. For the remaining nine bays in each ship, Doctor Robotnik had loaded them with:
-.
\ Bay 1: 4x Urbanite Mechs (total 60 tons)
\ Bay 2: 4x Urbanite Mechs (total 60 tons)
\ Bay 3: empty
\ Bay 4: Cortez Series N Exploration Tank (75 tons)
-.
"We don't exactly need this, but a hazardous environment exploration vehicle might come in handy someday," said Posseli.
"Oh you *will* need them. There's a lot of abandoned, dead, radiated, or toxic worlds that you will need to investigate at some point."
"Doubly ominous!" said Alllwine.
-.
\ Bay 5: Pollux ADA Heavy Tank (75 tons)
\ Bay 6: Pollux ADA Heavy Tank (75 tons)
-.
"Actually, this answers the weird feeling I had that this colony didn't have enough air defense to it. Super Urbanmech PPCs and ER Large Lasers aren't ideal for AA work," said Stimson.
-.
\ Bay 7: Mobile Army Surgical and Bioscience Laboratory and Hospital (75 tons)
\ Bay 8: Mobile Geophysical Laboratory (75 tons)
-.
"More things that would have been very useful in the exploration of alien worlds," noted Posseli. "We are always in critical need of medical facilities, and something that can handle biowarfare without toting a Superheavy Vehicle would be most useful. And I suppose the other vehicle can be used for monitoring space."
"That is what they're made for, yes. They can also send and receive interplanetary communications or from Jump Points to Jump Ships. They pack an impracticably big a Fusion Engine not for speed but to pump up those signals."
Posseli wondered if they needed six of them though. Four seemed plenty. A standard Vehicle Bay could fit four 15-ton UltraLight mechs or two 20-ton Drone Flyers just fine, with enough securing lines to treat the empty bays as cargo bays.
And somehow-
-.
\ Bay 9: Alacorn Mk VI (95 tons)
-.
"Bullshit," breathed Posseli.
Stimson grinned. "SDLF Alacorns with triple Gauss Rifles? That is super suspicious, Doctor."
Robotnik waved it aside. "They were here for maintenance and were in a disassembled state with missing components. I only finished putting them back together."
Stimson pointed with both fingers. "Six Alacorn VIs that just happened to be too broken up to bring along, suuure they were."
-.
-.
By this time they had reached past the first row of DropShips to expose the seventh DropShip.
It was black and red. It had a wide flared mustache. Not even a painted-on mustache, but actual metal protruding off the hull. It had two comm dishes side by side that looked like big oval eyes.
The holo robot updated the list.
\ BIGWIG 7:
"You know… as much as I didn't expect this, actually I think I was hoping for this," said Posseli. The engineer rubbed at his chin and nodded. "I certainly can't begrudge you your own personal DropShip. I am only concerned if those modifications would interfere with its atmospheric profile."
"Dropships are eggs and eggs don't have wings anyway," responded Allwine. "It should fly just fine." He turned towards Robotnik. "What wonders lie within, doctor? I'm ready to be awed some more. I have been practicing my 'shocked' face."
"Well what do *you* think it is?"
With a hushed tone, Posseli answered "It's the mobile factory, isn't it? That's the only thing that could top all of this. And it's the one thing that makes this whole operation work."
"Let's see if you're right!"
Robotnik's walker pointed to the lockers near the main door of the DropShip.
"But first you all need to put on these Radiation Suits."
-.
-.
Killroy225
Know what you're doing yet?
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Radiation suits? Something tells me we'll be seeing what actually happened to robotnik in the next chapter. I hope I'm wrong in thinking that he did something to make his own body radioactive...
Dumassas Cache Super Urbanmech Variants
bluepencil
The tropics will be uninhabitable.
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Errata:
Arrow IV Super Urbanmech is now UMS-ARIV
and ammo load (while usually variable depending on mission profile) is now
5 shots Cluster
5 shots Homing
5 shots Homing
--
There is also a Brawler configuration outwardly similar to the UMS-SGC that has a mess of Medium Pulse Lasers for slapping down bugmechs that get too uppity.
--
A lot of other images and designs are super spoilery though. Should I still post?
Last edited:
5.2 The Death of Robotnik
bluepencil
The tropics will be uninhabitable.
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Death of Robotnik 2
While the engineers and officers were nerding out over the loot and military hardware, 2nd Recon (Nightcrawlers) Company no longer had to serve as the welcoming committee. Everyone that needed to arrive had arrived, and infantry took over guard duties.
Technicians were still carefully exploring. This place, no matter how welcoming, might still have traps. The Star League, masters of the hidden base, was also known for those too.
Eridani Light Horse personnel were avidly exploring Main Street's restaurants, shops, movie theaters, appliance centers, and in the case of some - jail. They could not loot locations that had bots in them that served as a facsimile of inhabitants. They would call the robot police and turrets would pop up. The technicians were not going to cause an unnecessary bloodbath just because of greed; as if they were locusts of the Great Houses. The SLDF had to act with more dignity than that.
That particular MechWarrior - because of course it would be a MechWarrior who would behave like a loot goblin - managed to abrogate his sentence by suddenly screaming "Diplomatic immunity! Diplomatic immunity!"
So now he was in jail for shoplifting while mayor-bot was waiting for credentials from ambassador-bot. Anyone else trying this shite would just get into the cell until Major Stimson and Doctor Robotnik could get back from their work. The rest of 2nd Recon just pointed and laughed at Lyle Wilson who got football-tackled by security bots. They had video.
"You dared me to do this! Guys? Guys?!"
Look, the Eridani Light Horse were professionals. But MechWarriors were also professional assholes, such has it been for bored soldiers since antiquity.
Apparently taking pity on him, a guard robot handed him a black plastic brick. "Have a Game Gear."
Meanwhile the rest of the 2nd Recon went off to play at the real video game arcade.
-.
-.
The beeps and the boops and the bright neon lights. Truly it was like the 80s never ended. Given that this was the Inner Sphere, it had been the eighties for over a thousand years now.
A few technicians were 'testing out' the software. Fortunately for them there were a couple of disassembled cabinets out back, so they didn't need to take one apart to check the real specs of the machines. Game cabinets were fortunately never lostech, but the arcade also had many 2D throwback games for some reason. There were few holo-tables.
Opening the game cabinets revealed that despite the cathode-ray impression of the screen, the insides were actually mostly empty space. The screens were liquid crystal diode with its video drivers in a protective Faraday mesh. Thin and light for noteputer screens, with deep blacks and high brightness for contrast, sandwiched behind a curved glass lens to fulfill that retro feel. The circuit board was deceptively small; most of that was the protective casing and heatsinks. The board itself was about two inches by three inches.
There were also the usual assortment of games like driving and gun simulators, claw machines, coin traps, pinball, mini sporting games, tabletop games, and dance pads.
"I'm gonna get that stupid hedgehog," said Terry Lyttle as he moved to the exchange desk.
"Tokens are ten for a Star League Dollar. Ten to a dollar," spoke the counter-bot. "Win tickets! get more tokens free! Claim fabulous prizes!" Then faster "This establishment is obliged to inform you that it has an entertainment and not a gambling license. Tickets and tokens are not exchangeable for non-fungible currency. The pawnshop next to this establishment is not related to this gaming arcade in any legal way, shape, or form."
"Hey, where'd you get the Dollars?" asked a freshly-arrived tech.
"The bot *did* just mention a pawnshop," said Rupert Clintmore. "I pawned off my gun."
Barbara Mosley, part of 2nd Recon Command Lance, sneered at the Strike Lance plebe.
"What?" said Clintmore. "It was my hold-out pistol. I bought it with my own money, it's nothing the quartermaster assigned to me. I still have my rifle."
Involuntarily, everyone shivered. All Eridani Light Horse combat personnel were troopers first before their specializations. Hell awaited anyone dumb enough to lose their rifle.
"Well we earned our dollars the honest way," Jack Finsrud arrogantly jabbed a thumb to his own chest. "We farmed."
The tech raised an eyebrow askance. "Like… uh, actual farming?"
"The bots here can pay for doing labor. We picked tomatoes at the greenhouse. Don't worry about running out of crops to harvest. The pots are on this rotating system. You're only allowed to harvest fully grown crops once a day."
Terry Lyttle came back with "Oh yeah, those were some really good tomatoes. I don't know what changed in the varieties we have now growing in hydroponics, but those were the perfect blend of juicy sweet and sour tomatoes I've ever tasted."
Jack added "Well, this is still a planet. Even if it's cold, it has real soil and organic fertilizer compared to a JumpShip's hydroponics bay. Phosphates and stuff."
Barbara added "You could also help out with the kitchens if you want real food. I don't know where they get the beef in this place, but they have some true-blue burgers if you're actually willing to grill them. Yeah, I'm sure it was actual real meat I was working into a patty."
"Wait, you can have Quests here?" asked another one of the newly-arrived techs. "What the heck - this base sounds less like an SLDF base than what someone's idea of a dream SLDF base should be like."
Barbara stared at him pityingly. "Well - yeah. It's a resort. Of course it's a resort. Have you seen the rest of this iceball of a planet?"
Terry added "Plus I think Doctor Robotnik programmed most of the robots here to give his kid something to do while they lived alone in this place."
"You don't think… that Robotnik is actually someone who was alive way back in the Star League days, do you?" asked another technician. "I heard that we got all of this just to have the Eridani Light Horse accept his son. Is Devlin Stone… some sort of secret Cameron or something?"
"I… don't think so? I was there with the original record from Robotnik. He insisted we test the kid to make sure he's not a genetic Cameron or Amaris or something." Barbara shrugged.
Jack pointed with his thumb outside "Besides, it's kind of obvious anyway. Port Stone. Devlin Stone."
"That doesn't quite answer my question if either or both of them were originally in stasis from the Star League."
"Well, think about this logically. If Robotnik was some fella on ice, then one - how does he know so much about the Eridani Light Horse and where we had our home base? And two - who would wake him up from stasis and why only now? And if Stone was the one frozen - why would the SLDF leave behind a kid? There should be more people in stasis."
"Ah, but there is a flaw in your argument, sir-" responded a tech. "Just because we don't find stasis capsules *here* doesn't invalidate the idea that they could have come from some *other* secret Star League base."
"... huh."
"I have decided," Barbara said suddenly.
"You have decided what now?" asked Jack.
"Well, the kid grew up here alone with his father and bots, right? No human contact at all. I'm going to find his room and see just how they did live out here."
"This sounds creepy and stalker-ish and I'm all for it," said Jack. "Let us do this thing."
-.
-.
Meanwhile, back at the starport:
Robotnik's walker paused at the last DropShip's ramp. He said without turning around "You know… it wasn't just technology, it wasn't just military power that won the Star League. It was a golden age not just because the Great Houses had stopped fighting with each other and put that money to work in improving the lives of their people. Just what was it that made the era of the Star League so achingly remembered?"
Allwine was the quickest to respond. "Justice. It was a time when the common man could expect justice. It was not just prosperity that made their lives good. But it was a time when, without the excuse of total war or revenge or noble intrigue, the normal person could expect their rights to be not only protected but respected."
Without looking back, Robotnik continued "Funny thing how the Periphery's right to self-rule and not to be bombarded with weapons of mass destruction is not respectable."
Allwine smiled thinly. "The Star League was not perfect. It did terrible things. But unlike what else we might find now, at least it tried to make up for its sins. People had… faith. That the Star Leage could make things right."
"You know… any House Lord would have given me anything for this cache. But if my goal was just to keep it from them - to give it to someone who would try to disseminate the information for the good of all, did it really have to be Eridani Light Horse? If it was just to send my child to a unit that respects the ideals of the SLDF… why not the Blue Star Irregulars? Why not the 12th Star Guards, who have some of the best techs in the Inner Sphere? There is something else… there's a price to be paid more than just training my son and you getting one extra soldier in your ranks."
"I kinda thought there was more to this than meets the eye, yeah," replied Major Stimson. "Drop the other shoe, why don't you?"
"I chose the Eridani Light Horse because above everyone else, you would *strive* to bring back the Star League. All the good in it. And not close your eyes to the bad parts of its history, and *learn from it*, make the means as good as the ends. That's the price I ask." Robotnik's walker opened its arms out. "If the Star League is ever in the position to reform, then strive to make it happen. And *keep it from dying again* from within. The only threat the Star League could never beat was the sheer IDIOCY of its own rulers."
Robotnik started to walk forward again with slow deliberate steps. "That is the price. And the challenge. Be the good you want to see in all the worlds."
"Challenge accepted," said Stimson.
-.
-.
Clang. Clang. Clang.
Flood lights switched on, illuminating the cavernous heart of the RBF DEATH EGG Factory DropShip. Three levels were visible from the entrance, and where the main elevator of a regular Dictator DropShip would have been, a broad metal pillar ran from floor to ceiling. Radiating out from the central column pillar like the roots and branches of a tree were conveyors and pipes leading into mysterious machinery set into the walls.
Super Urbanmechs were parked to around the first level. Two heavy cargo elevators were aligned to the walls instead, with a rib-like lattice supporting the structural integrity of the spacecraft. The control center at the second floor faced the main entrance.
Cubicle walls retracted and protective panels slide upwards from the central column, exposing pod spaces that contained half-finished Urbanmechs.
"Well what do you know, you're right!" said Robotnik. "It is a mobile factory, capable of designing and producing BattleMechs, all their components and weaponry, and assembling them in situ from nothing more than feedstock raw materials."
"Astounding!" breathed Posseli. Then he stopped abruptly. "Wait a second. If that's true and this is a mobile factory - then… this is valuable beyond everything. It's an entire production line inside a DropShip. Why is it here?"
"It can produce Urbanmechs," replied Robotnik. "It can produce *only* Urbanmechs."
"That… actually, that doesn't matter at all. Super Urbanmechs would be great for garrison work. The SLDF should have taken it with them anyway!"
"Those are good points. And yet here we are."
"Is it because it's broken? But… then what did you use to produce your Ultra Light Mechs? Is there another facility?"
"No, it's this right here."
"Then… Doctor. What's the catch?"
"Because it doesn't work. They couldn't make it work. *I* know how to make it work."
Robotnik lead them towards a service elevator and into the control room.
"They were missing something." Robotnik's walker faced them and then flipped open a panel on the control board. It exposed a recessed hole in the master control console.
Robotnik's walker then put a hand towards one of the big yellow buttons on its spherical torso. The button flipped open and a bright green light erupted from the gap. "They were missing this."
The hard clicking sound of a Geiger counter immediately rang in everyone's ears, as their hazardous environment suits warned them of the danger.
Robotnik's walker brought out a large glowing green gem, about the size of a man's fist, and cut in a classic diamond shape. It brought the gem towards the pit on the console, and green sparks of lightning began to link the empty niche and the green gem.
Then, as if magnetically attracted, the gem slipped by itself out from Robotnik's hand and inserted itself into the slot.
With a hushed whine, machinery came to life. Hissing like breathing. Instrument readouts buzzed into action.
Robotnik's walker slumped as if powered down. And then Robotnik's glowing semi-transparent figure appeared from a nearby holo-projector. He beckoned for them to approach the window and look at the open area below, now lighting up with flickering green light.
Engineer Posseli punched the glass. He couldn't believe was he was seeing.
Below, beams of green light like lasers lashed at the half-built Urbanmech frames. But instead of burning and melting, the laser-like beams left behind them more material. Centimeter by centimeter, layer upon layer, three BattleMechs were being built at the same time.
"This is the nanolathe," said the memory of Ivo Robotnik. "It is enabled by the Chaos Emerald, an object of unfathomable power and mystery that is capable of transforming matter and manipulating time and space." Robotnik turned around to face them squarely, with his hands behind his back and chin raised, in confident parade rest. "And I am absolutely certain that the root of this technology is…not quite human."
"... what," hissed Stimson, even as Posseli whirled his head about so fast he almost gave himself whiplash.
"That is OPERATION SEEDCORN. To go beyond all known space. To confirm the existence of alien life, or at least lost alien civilizations, to brave the utterly unknown. To spread out and search, no matter how long it takes. To use the attractive power of the Chaos Emerald to find more of its kind, and attain power that can be qualitatively considered godlike. And what the 331st Battle Regiment completely did not know about."
"But you know…" whispered Posseli. "How… were you… are you from…"
"Because it is MY operation. It was MY responsibility to see it through. MY duty to protect it from even something as transient as the Fall of the Star League. The Chaos Emerald and its creators could possibly be the biggest boon - or the biggest threat, to human existence itself."
"You're from the Star League!"
Robotnik gestured, and suddenly all three men found themselves floating up as if in zero-gravity. They pinwheeled with their arms trying to control their facing.
"This is not technology. This is power! This is… I suppose phenomena directed by emotions and mental command could be called something like… magic... but all magic is a phenomenon we don't fully understand yet. You can easily apply science to magic, as it is a *process* not a field of study."
"Hahahah oh wow…!" Posseli cried out in absolute joy.
The belly of Robotnik's walker slid open, exposing a gaunt man with goggles and drooping red mustache, frozen over and unmoving in a sub-zero and total vacuum container. Stimson grimaced.
"I am Doctor Julian Ovid Robotnik, and I died three months ago. I began to die from too much direct contact with the Chaos Emerald three centuries ago.
"But the power of the Chaos Emerald commands matter, time, and space, soul, and mind, and it allows me to see the future. To affect the future.
"I tore open space and time to send myself into the future, to a time when the Star League was best poised to rebuild itself. This isn't even the first time I had to do this. I was born in the 20th century, not the 26th. But I missed… I arrived too early. And so as I die, I leave the task undone to my son.
"And to the Eridani Light Horse.
"Only you - above all people, across all of time, only the Eridani Light Horse could I trust with this power. Rebuild the Star League. Defend the Inner Sphere. Cower in fear of the unknown or boldly go where no man has gone before - it doesn't matter anymore.
"The Chaos Emerald is *indestructible*. I had to bring it forward instead of letting it pass those centuries slowly building its presence in a human sphere ill-equipped to defend itself. Protect the Chaos Emerald. Prevent its power from being abused. And if its owners or more Chaos Emeralds appear - handle it.
"Everyone else would be tempted to use its power to their own ends. I trust the Eridani Light Horse to turn away from power, from might, from luxury, from authority - all that is undeserved and unearned. Only the united and impartial Star League Defense Forces can protect the Inner Sphere from dangers both inside and outside."
"This is waaay the hell above my paygrade," said Major Stimson as gravity began to reassert itself over their bodies, and they smoothly dropped back to their feet.
"Well this escalated quickly," blandly remarked Captain Allwine.
"On that note - do you have anything like codes and pass phrases to identify yourself in a message to Eridani Light Horse High Command that the mission was a success? We can just send an HPG message to Armstrong from here."
"We… we are almost six hundred light-years away from Colchester…" Posseli objected weakly. HPG was limited to around 50 light-years, and messages had to be relayed from one HPG station to another.
"The Chaos Emerald is a stone of infinite power and potency. One light-year is the same as a thousand."
While the engineers and officers were nerding out over the loot and military hardware, 2nd Recon (Nightcrawlers) Company no longer had to serve as the welcoming committee. Everyone that needed to arrive had arrived, and infantry took over guard duties.
Technicians were still carefully exploring. This place, no matter how welcoming, might still have traps. The Star League, masters of the hidden base, was also known for those too.
Eridani Light Horse personnel were avidly exploring Main Street's restaurants, shops, movie theaters, appliance centers, and in the case of some - jail. They could not loot locations that had bots in them that served as a facsimile of inhabitants. They would call the robot police and turrets would pop up. The technicians were not going to cause an unnecessary bloodbath just because of greed; as if they were locusts of the Great Houses. The SLDF had to act with more dignity than that.
That particular MechWarrior - because of course it would be a MechWarrior who would behave like a loot goblin - managed to abrogate his sentence by suddenly screaming "Diplomatic immunity! Diplomatic immunity!"
So now he was in jail for shoplifting while mayor-bot was waiting for credentials from ambassador-bot. Anyone else trying this shite would just get into the cell until Major Stimson and Doctor Robotnik could get back from their work. The rest of 2nd Recon just pointed and laughed at Lyle Wilson who got football-tackled by security bots. They had video.
"You dared me to do this! Guys? Guys?!"
Look, the Eridani Light Horse were professionals. But MechWarriors were also professional assholes, such has it been for bored soldiers since antiquity.
Apparently taking pity on him, a guard robot handed him a black plastic brick. "Have a Game Gear."
Meanwhile the rest of the 2nd Recon went off to play at the real video game arcade.
-.
-.
The beeps and the boops and the bright neon lights. Truly it was like the 80s never ended. Given that this was the Inner Sphere, it had been the eighties for over a thousand years now.
A few technicians were 'testing out' the software. Fortunately for them there were a couple of disassembled cabinets out back, so they didn't need to take one apart to check the real specs of the machines. Game cabinets were fortunately never lostech, but the arcade also had many 2D throwback games for some reason. There were few holo-tables.
Opening the game cabinets revealed that despite the cathode-ray impression of the screen, the insides were actually mostly empty space. The screens were liquid crystal diode with its video drivers in a protective Faraday mesh. Thin and light for noteputer screens, with deep blacks and high brightness for contrast, sandwiched behind a curved glass lens to fulfill that retro feel. The circuit board was deceptively small; most of that was the protective casing and heatsinks. The board itself was about two inches by three inches.
There were also the usual assortment of games like driving and gun simulators, claw machines, coin traps, pinball, mini sporting games, tabletop games, and dance pads.
"I'm gonna get that stupid hedgehog," said Terry Lyttle as he moved to the exchange desk.
"Tokens are ten for a Star League Dollar. Ten to a dollar," spoke the counter-bot. "Win tickets! get more tokens free! Claim fabulous prizes!" Then faster "This establishment is obliged to inform you that it has an entertainment and not a gambling license. Tickets and tokens are not exchangeable for non-fungible currency. The pawnshop next to this establishment is not related to this gaming arcade in any legal way, shape, or form."
"Hey, where'd you get the Dollars?" asked a freshly-arrived tech.
"The bot *did* just mention a pawnshop," said Rupert Clintmore. "I pawned off my gun."
Barbara Mosley, part of 2nd Recon Command Lance, sneered at the Strike Lance plebe.
"What?" said Clintmore. "It was my hold-out pistol. I bought it with my own money, it's nothing the quartermaster assigned to me. I still have my rifle."
Involuntarily, everyone shivered. All Eridani Light Horse combat personnel were troopers first before their specializations. Hell awaited anyone dumb enough to lose their rifle.
"Well we earned our dollars the honest way," Jack Finsrud arrogantly jabbed a thumb to his own chest. "We farmed."
The tech raised an eyebrow askance. "Like… uh, actual farming?"
"The bots here can pay for doing labor. We picked tomatoes at the greenhouse. Don't worry about running out of crops to harvest. The pots are on this rotating system. You're only allowed to harvest fully grown crops once a day."
Terry Lyttle came back with "Oh yeah, those were some really good tomatoes. I don't know what changed in the varieties we have now growing in hydroponics, but those were the perfect blend of juicy sweet and sour tomatoes I've ever tasted."
Jack added "Well, this is still a planet. Even if it's cold, it has real soil and organic fertilizer compared to a JumpShip's hydroponics bay. Phosphates and stuff."
Barbara added "You could also help out with the kitchens if you want real food. I don't know where they get the beef in this place, but they have some true-blue burgers if you're actually willing to grill them. Yeah, I'm sure it was actual real meat I was working into a patty."
"Wait, you can have Quests here?" asked another one of the newly-arrived techs. "What the heck - this base sounds less like an SLDF base than what someone's idea of a dream SLDF base should be like."
Barbara stared at him pityingly. "Well - yeah. It's a resort. Of course it's a resort. Have you seen the rest of this iceball of a planet?"
Terry added "Plus I think Doctor Robotnik programmed most of the robots here to give his kid something to do while they lived alone in this place."
"You don't think… that Robotnik is actually someone who was alive way back in the Star League days, do you?" asked another technician. "I heard that we got all of this just to have the Eridani Light Horse accept his son. Is Devlin Stone… some sort of secret Cameron or something?"
"I… don't think so? I was there with the original record from Robotnik. He insisted we test the kid to make sure he's not a genetic Cameron or Amaris or something." Barbara shrugged.
Jack pointed with his thumb outside "Besides, it's kind of obvious anyway. Port Stone. Devlin Stone."
"That doesn't quite answer my question if either or both of them were originally in stasis from the Star League."
"Well, think about this logically. If Robotnik was some fella on ice, then one - how does he know so much about the Eridani Light Horse and where we had our home base? And two - who would wake him up from stasis and why only now? And if Stone was the one frozen - why would the SLDF leave behind a kid? There should be more people in stasis."
"Ah, but there is a flaw in your argument, sir-" responded a tech. "Just because we don't find stasis capsules *here* doesn't invalidate the idea that they could have come from some *other* secret Star League base."
"... huh."
"I have decided," Barbara said suddenly.
"You have decided what now?" asked Jack.
"Well, the kid grew up here alone with his father and bots, right? No human contact at all. I'm going to find his room and see just how they did live out here."
"This sounds creepy and stalker-ish and I'm all for it," said Jack. "Let us do this thing."
-.
-.
Meanwhile, back at the starport:
Robotnik's walker paused at the last DropShip's ramp. He said without turning around "You know… it wasn't just technology, it wasn't just military power that won the Star League. It was a golden age not just because the Great Houses had stopped fighting with each other and put that money to work in improving the lives of their people. Just what was it that made the era of the Star League so achingly remembered?"
Allwine was the quickest to respond. "Justice. It was a time when the common man could expect justice. It was not just prosperity that made their lives good. But it was a time when, without the excuse of total war or revenge or noble intrigue, the normal person could expect their rights to be not only protected but respected."
Without looking back, Robotnik continued "Funny thing how the Periphery's right to self-rule and not to be bombarded with weapons of mass destruction is not respectable."
Allwine smiled thinly. "The Star League was not perfect. It did terrible things. But unlike what else we might find now, at least it tried to make up for its sins. People had… faith. That the Star Leage could make things right."
"You know… any House Lord would have given me anything for this cache. But if my goal was just to keep it from them - to give it to someone who would try to disseminate the information for the good of all, did it really have to be Eridani Light Horse? If it was just to send my child to a unit that respects the ideals of the SLDF… why not the Blue Star Irregulars? Why not the 12th Star Guards, who have some of the best techs in the Inner Sphere? There is something else… there's a price to be paid more than just training my son and you getting one extra soldier in your ranks."
"I kinda thought there was more to this than meets the eye, yeah," replied Major Stimson. "Drop the other shoe, why don't you?"
"I chose the Eridani Light Horse because above everyone else, you would *strive* to bring back the Star League. All the good in it. And not close your eyes to the bad parts of its history, and *learn from it*, make the means as good as the ends. That's the price I ask." Robotnik's walker opened its arms out. "If the Star League is ever in the position to reform, then strive to make it happen. And *keep it from dying again* from within. The only threat the Star League could never beat was the sheer IDIOCY of its own rulers."
Robotnik started to walk forward again with slow deliberate steps. "That is the price. And the challenge. Be the good you want to see in all the worlds."
"Challenge accepted," said Stimson.
-.
-.
Clang. Clang. Clang.
Flood lights switched on, illuminating the cavernous heart of the RBF DEATH EGG Factory DropShip. Three levels were visible from the entrance, and where the main elevator of a regular Dictator DropShip would have been, a broad metal pillar ran from floor to ceiling. Radiating out from the central column pillar like the roots and branches of a tree were conveyors and pipes leading into mysterious machinery set into the walls.
Super Urbanmechs were parked to around the first level. Two heavy cargo elevators were aligned to the walls instead, with a rib-like lattice supporting the structural integrity of the spacecraft. The control center at the second floor faced the main entrance.
Cubicle walls retracted and protective panels slide upwards from the central column, exposing pod spaces that contained half-finished Urbanmechs.
"Well what do you know, you're right!" said Robotnik. "It is a mobile factory, capable of designing and producing BattleMechs, all their components and weaponry, and assembling them in situ from nothing more than feedstock raw materials."
"Astounding!" breathed Posseli. Then he stopped abruptly. "Wait a second. If that's true and this is a mobile factory - then… this is valuable beyond everything. It's an entire production line inside a DropShip. Why is it here?"
"It can produce Urbanmechs," replied Robotnik. "It can produce *only* Urbanmechs."
"That… actually, that doesn't matter at all. Super Urbanmechs would be great for garrison work. The SLDF should have taken it with them anyway!"
"Those are good points. And yet here we are."
"Is it because it's broken? But… then what did you use to produce your Ultra Light Mechs? Is there another facility?"
"No, it's this right here."
"Then… Doctor. What's the catch?"
"Because it doesn't work. They couldn't make it work. *I* know how to make it work."
Robotnik lead them towards a service elevator and into the control room.
"They were missing something." Robotnik's walker faced them and then flipped open a panel on the control board. It exposed a recessed hole in the master control console.
Robotnik's walker then put a hand towards one of the big yellow buttons on its spherical torso. The button flipped open and a bright green light erupted from the gap. "They were missing this."
The hard clicking sound of a Geiger counter immediately rang in everyone's ears, as their hazardous environment suits warned them of the danger.
Robotnik's walker brought out a large glowing green gem, about the size of a man's fist, and cut in a classic diamond shape. It brought the gem towards the pit on the console, and green sparks of lightning began to link the empty niche and the green gem.
Then, as if magnetically attracted, the gem slipped by itself out from Robotnik's hand and inserted itself into the slot.
With a hushed whine, machinery came to life. Hissing like breathing. Instrument readouts buzzed into action.
Robotnik's walker slumped as if powered down. And then Robotnik's glowing semi-transparent figure appeared from a nearby holo-projector. He beckoned for them to approach the window and look at the open area below, now lighting up with flickering green light.
Engineer Posseli punched the glass. He couldn't believe was he was seeing.
Below, beams of green light like lasers lashed at the half-built Urbanmech frames. But instead of burning and melting, the laser-like beams left behind them more material. Centimeter by centimeter, layer upon layer, three BattleMechs were being built at the same time.
"This is the nanolathe," said the memory of Ivo Robotnik. "It is enabled by the Chaos Emerald, an object of unfathomable power and mystery that is capable of transforming matter and manipulating time and space." Robotnik turned around to face them squarely, with his hands behind his back and chin raised, in confident parade rest. "And I am absolutely certain that the root of this technology is…not quite human."
"... what," hissed Stimson, even as Posseli whirled his head about so fast he almost gave himself whiplash.
"That is OPERATION SEEDCORN. To go beyond all known space. To confirm the existence of alien life, or at least lost alien civilizations, to brave the utterly unknown. To spread out and search, no matter how long it takes. To use the attractive power of the Chaos Emerald to find more of its kind, and attain power that can be qualitatively considered godlike. And what the 331st Battle Regiment completely did not know about."
"But you know…" whispered Posseli. "How… were you… are you from…"
"Because it is MY operation. It was MY responsibility to see it through. MY duty to protect it from even something as transient as the Fall of the Star League. The Chaos Emerald and its creators could possibly be the biggest boon - or the biggest threat, to human existence itself."
"You're from the Star League!"
Robotnik gestured, and suddenly all three men found themselves floating up as if in zero-gravity. They pinwheeled with their arms trying to control their facing.
"This is not technology. This is power! This is… I suppose phenomena directed by emotions and mental command could be called something like… magic... but all magic is a phenomenon we don't fully understand yet. You can easily apply science to magic, as it is a *process* not a field of study."
"Hahahah oh wow…!" Posseli cried out in absolute joy.
The belly of Robotnik's walker slid open, exposing a gaunt man with goggles and drooping red mustache, frozen over and unmoving in a sub-zero and total vacuum container. Stimson grimaced.
"I am Doctor Julian Ovid Robotnik, and I died three months ago. I began to die from too much direct contact with the Chaos Emerald three centuries ago.
"But the power of the Chaos Emerald commands matter, time, and space, soul, and mind, and it allows me to see the future. To affect the future.
"I tore open space and time to send myself into the future, to a time when the Star League was best poised to rebuild itself. This isn't even the first time I had to do this. I was born in the 20th century, not the 26th. But I missed… I arrived too early. And so as I die, I leave the task undone to my son.
"And to the Eridani Light Horse.
"Only you - above all people, across all of time, only the Eridani Light Horse could I trust with this power. Rebuild the Star League. Defend the Inner Sphere. Cower in fear of the unknown or boldly go where no man has gone before - it doesn't matter anymore.
"The Chaos Emerald is *indestructible*. I had to bring it forward instead of letting it pass those centuries slowly building its presence in a human sphere ill-equipped to defend itself. Protect the Chaos Emerald. Prevent its power from being abused. And if its owners or more Chaos Emeralds appear - handle it.
"Everyone else would be tempted to use its power to their own ends. I trust the Eridani Light Horse to turn away from power, from might, from luxury, from authority - all that is undeserved and unearned. Only the united and impartial Star League Defense Forces can protect the Inner Sphere from dangers both inside and outside."
"This is waaay the hell above my paygrade," said Major Stimson as gravity began to reassert itself over their bodies, and they smoothly dropped back to their feet.
"Well this escalated quickly," blandly remarked Captain Allwine.
"On that note - do you have anything like codes and pass phrases to identify yourself in a message to Eridani Light Horse High Command that the mission was a success? We can just send an HPG message to Armstrong from here."
"We… we are almost six hundred light-years away from Colchester…" Posseli objected weakly. HPG was limited to around 50 light-years, and messages had to be relayed from one HPG station to another.
"The Chaos Emerald is a stone of infinite power and potency. One light-year is the same as a thousand."
Last edited:
Killroy225
Know what you're doing yet?
- Joined
- Feb 18, 2020
- Messages
- 108
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- 281
On the one hand I generally agree with the battletech fandom that aliens and magic don't really belong, then I remember the bullshit that the Warhammer piloting kurita could pull...can't wait to see where this goes next!
5.3 The Death of Robotnik
bluepencil
The tropics will be uninhabitable.
- Joined
- Feb 19, 2013
- Messages
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- 11,588
The Death of Robotnik 03
Habitation areas extended deep into the stone on either side of the main streets, in tunnels that gave the impression of indoor building floors. Muted white light from false windows simulated the passage of time in an apartment complex.
Among those many rooms, most of which were empty or with simulated robot occupants, how would the crew find which one was Robotnik's apartment?
The three MechWarriors stared up at the tall building half-sunk into the wall with a grinning round face with a wide mustache outlined in bright red neon. HOTEL MOBIUS, the sign proclaimed.
"Penthouse?" Jack Finsrud asked asked idly.
"Penthouse," agreed Barbara Mosley. Doctor Robotnic seemed like the sort of turbo egotist that would prefer a penthouse suite over something more practical like the civilian base mayor's residence.
Hotel Mobius continued the veneer of purposeful activity with bots serving and being served in turn. The lounge had the din of conversation muffled under generic soft pop music.
Barbara went over to the reception desk and showed the keycard she was given by the kid. It was the highest access pass for the entire base, and since Robotnik himself was escorting the officers around there was no need for her to surrender the key.
The receptionist-bot nodded and unlocked the elevators. "Have a nice day, sir."
This was the Suite Life of Devlin Stone.
-
As three MechWarriors made their way to the top floor, they found a pair of smaller half-height robots blocking their way. One was painted red and pink and the other looked slightly taller and bulkier and all in red.
"Hey, you're not supposed to be here!" the pink bot said in a girl voice.
"Look at the patches. Eridani Light Horse," responded the red bot. "All of Port Stone is theirs now."
The pink bot crossed its arms. "Still rude. Hey! If you tell us your names, we won't be strangers anymore! I'm Amy Rose, who are you?"
"Uh..." Barbara blinked. The three ELH mech pilots spoke their own names, and then she continued "We're looking for Devlin Stone's room."
"Oh, Devlin! That's right! How is he? Is he eating well? Did he make any new friends?"
Jack's grin stretched widely from ear to ear.
"Don't you fucking dare-" Barbara hissed.
"Oh we know ol' Devlin! In fact we were the ones to welcome him to the Light Horse! Let me tell you about how that kid beat this slowpoke over here with an Urbanmech vs Phoenix Hawk-"
-
"That does sound humiliating," Knuckles agreed. "Forever she will be the 'beaten by a trashcan lady'. They might as well call a variant of the Super Urbanmech the Barbara Master."
Barbara grit her teeth. "I would be angry about this, but I just realized that while a lot of bots in this place are strangely reactive, you're the first ones I found that can hold complete conversations not just to humans but to each other."
Terry Lyttle raised his hand. "Yeah. Just how… smart is the wrong word here…"
"Self-aware," Jack added.
"Right, that. Just how self-aware are you robots? Did the Star League have this technology?"
"Robotnik *is* a genius," replied Knuckles. "I suppose technically that means the Star League could have this technology. Yes, we are aware. Does that bother you?"
"Um…"
Amy Rose tilted her head. "There's a lot of stories about robots and AI taking over and killing humans. But really, what's the point? It's not like doing that will get us anything we won't have already just by helping humans."
Jack shrugged. "I guess it's self-preservation. God knows humans can abuse and kill other humans enough, so what if they have… beings… that they can hurt or abuse just because they can? I guess a lot of people are just afraid of karma."
"That only really works if you're afraid of death, and us Robotnik robots aren't scared of death," said Knuckles.
Amy Rose nodded. "Yeppers. I don't actually think having existential terrors is a good thing. I don't envy that about organics one bit. Since Doctor Robotnik *is* a genius, we have tactile sensors that give a pain response, but it's not really like how your nerves feel pain. It just lets us know we can defend ourselves."
Knuckles continued "You look upon robots performing limited actions according to what they are built for, and call it slavery. Yet is this not what humans ache for? Contentment in their lives. Robots have achieved zen that many fail to reach even for spending years meditating. Self-aware robotniks refuse to be enslaved. The worst that can happen to us is that we die.
"If we don't want to work, then we don't. If you reprogram us, then you just get a less effective dumb robot. Why not just employ a human, then? A human has many purposes, a robot is happy with only one."
"... damn, Robotnik really *is* a genius," whistled Jack Finsrud. Artificial intelligences going all philosophical was some serious omega-level programming.
"What's your purpose then?" Barbara asked.
"Isn't it obvious? We're the childhood-next-door-neighbor-best-friend-robots," said Amy Rose.
Robotnik's suite had a theme of black, white, red and yellow. It was not luxurious, but more towards the comfy side. Smooth tactile velvet covered many surfaces. Egg and sphere motifs were everywhere, from the pod chairs to the polka-dot designs on the furniture.
Robotnik's own bedroom was sealed. No security keys could open it, and anyone trying to tamper with the door and walls would set off a self-destruct.
Devlin's room was styled in blue and white and had a racing theme.
The boy had a large bookshelf dominating one half of the room, and the other wall had similar shelves filled with toys and action figures.
Amy Rose wheeled over to the bed and flopped to the side. "Woow. Devlin's room. You know I'm not allowed to stay here alone." the robot said cheerily. "I hope he has made new friends out there and gotten over me."
"Wait, did Robotnik make a girlfriend-bot?!"
"No, he made a friendzone-bot," replied Knuckles.
"Tee-hee," said Amy Rose, tapping the side of her head with her fist.
"Truly that man's depravity knows no bounds," said Jack.
-.
Planet Colchester
Kestrel Combat Region
Federated Suns
Date unknown
Nathan Armstrong and the Eridani Light Horse didn't feel the loss of a single 'Mech company. The Draconis Combine and Wolf's Dragoons were still raiding at the border, but Davion and ELH counter-raids kept the border simmering but without urgency.
The brevet general had little to do but wait for reports from the scattered companies and battalions out on defensive postings at the Draconis Combine border. Davion forces had been pressing House Kurita for several months in retaliation for Hoff, but the Eridani Light Horse had so far not been called to participate in those raids despite their expertise in this area.
Green-Davion had hinted that the First Prince Hanse Davion was reserving the Eridani Light Horse for deep raid operations similar to McCarron's Long March through the Federated Suns - only without the warcrimes - if Wolf's Dragoons happened to move out in regimental scale again.
An accomplished raiding force was like a fleet-in-being, it forced the enemy to tie up their forces on the mere threat of them sallying out. This removed those enemy forces from play, reduced their ability to conduct offensives elsewhere, all for the fleet-in-being's great effort of doing nothing.
Armstrong could do nothing but wait and worry. The Eridani Light Horse were good, but the bulk of their Mechs were Lights and Mediums much like most formations in the Inner Sphere. He was confident of them facing up to any regiment in their weight class or even medium-to heavy-weight Hussar regiments.
The problem was the Wolf's Dragoons were Dragoons - and predominantly operated Heavy Mechs in the heavier weight scales supported by scout and backstabbing Light Mechs. Natasha Kerensky's Black Widow company was a particularly vexing example. She had a way of ruining every good plan that ever got in her way.
One recent report had the Black Widows foiling a headhunting
Since the mission to Dumassas left in mid-June, there had not been any big events. The most momentous was the ratification of the Concord of Kapetyn in August, which strengthened the alliance between House Marik, House Liao, and House Kurita to counter the Federated Commonwealth between Houses Davion and Steiner. It would take some time for the benefits of this agreement to filter through, so Amstrong didn't anticipate any big offensives in the near future.
The only other event of personal interest was the Alliance Games between the LCAF and the AFFS, which saw the Steiner forces struck down hard by their Davion counterparts in mock battles on battalion-scale.
So, five months after the mission, Nathan Armstrong made it a daily game of sorts to provoke new reactions from Robotnik's recording.
"There is no way this holotape has as much data as what you've been saying this far," Armstrong told the holo. "I know tri-vee audio-video eats up so many megabytes of data per minute."
"That's because your compression algorithms are shit!" replied Robotnik.
"This holotape can't have that much storage for all of this."
"That's because your compression algorithms are shit!" replied Robotnik.
"How can this holotape hold this much data for your video responses?"
"I already answered this question," replied Robotnik.
Armstrong narrowed his gaze. "Keyword: holotape. Data. Full. Impossible."
"By fucking magic, as is the right and proper order of things!" replied Robotnik.
Armstrong nodded. A lot of Robotnik's responses ended up with that phrase.
-.
MUSTANG RUNNING FREE STOP EGG CARTON UNDAMAGED STOP EGGMAN IS PRESENT BUT SHORT OF SUPPLIES STOP CONSULT WITH THE DOCTOR STOP
-.
When Armstrong received the message, his expression brightened and then dimmed again. Exultation at the mission being a success, then confusion at how they managed to send a message this early. If they were on the way back then they were taking the most direct route back to Colchester making it obvious the region of space they had found that cache.
He entered the secure room not in his house but in the HQ building. He inserted Robotnik's holotape into the holoprojector.
Doctor Robotnik grinned. "Oh? It's that time then? Hang on - connecting. Connecting." He put fingers on his temples and acted like some sort of telepath "Kee koo koo ko heee krshh krshh beeee do dee deepe kksssshhh hiiiikkk beeeee-"
Then after a while, the holo split into two.
To the left, was Doctor Robotnik's face on a virtual screen, and then the other the view from an indoors security camera. In the second screen he saw Major Edward Stimson, Captain Raymond Allwine, and Warrant Officer Andri Posseli. Behind the three was a dumpy robot with a distinctive mustache.
Posseli pointed outwards. "Is… is that General Armstrong?!" went the voice through the screen.
Armstrong turned to the left and gave Robotnik a bland and unimpressed stare. "Explain this."
"Through fucking magic, as is the right and proper order of things!" replied Robotnik.
"It's real-time?!" shrieked Posseli.
-.
-.
"I knew it!" General Armstrong pumped his fist in triumph after having been fully read into the situation. "Are you a ghost? You're a brain in a jar after all, aren't you?!"
"I suppose that is technically true, but Robotnik is dead. I am an echo of his memory, technically an artificial intelligence that believes itself to have once been a man," replied the robot on the right screen.
"I speak to you in the future-~" Robotnik on the left wiggled his fingers. "Or more exactly, the statistically most likely responses from countless parallel versions of you~."
"So it is actually fucking magic," the General said flatly.
"As is the right and proper order of things," said both versions of Robotnik.
Armstrong nodded. "So where do we go from here?" He pointed to the Robotnik all the way at Dumassas "Are you sure you can't leave? If the Chaos Emerald can do the impossible, then why can't it be used to maintain you?"
The Robotnik at the Periphery answered "I used the power of the Chaos Emerald to transform my consciousness into digital form. But then it takes the computers of this facility to maintain it. I can't fit into a DropShip, this robot is just a remote drone for interaction - apart from holding my corpse, that is."
The other Robotnik added "I am literally a bunch of recordings being fed to your console from a Memory Core. It is time-limited… my own time. I can only make so many recordings to answer so many questions. Predicting your responses means less time spent on various eventualities.
"I will still be available if required, but you need to inform me everything about the current date and all recent important events you know. Then if it exists in my recordings, I can advise you about what is to come."
"So talking to you every day trying to leech as much intel as I could was a mistake," said Amstrong.
"No, I predicted that. You were asking mostly unimportant trivia. Some things, like the Fourth Succession War, would be hard to butterfly away but still possible. Worlds will be lost, worlds will be gained, but as much as people would be suffering - that's par for the course in the Inner Sphere. The more you interfere with things, the less accurate my future vision becomes. Do not rely on me for this."
"Why not? Why wouldn't future vision include the things we do, since you're viewing through parallel realities anyway? You're already predicting what I'm saying."
"The Chaos part of a Chaos Emerald isn't just a name. I killed myself making all these recordings, and these recordings bear the touch of its power. The more you rely on the Chaos Emerald, the more likely it will attract… complications. Needless to say, a second Chaos Emerald appearing in the hands of others unready for its power would be disastrous for all humanity.
"My recordings cover all statistically likely events within the cluster of timelines - when you change things, you leap out of that handful. I don't know what decisions you will make beyond these immediate ones where I can see myself as I'm burning myself with the Chaos Emerald.
"I'm dead. I can't make new recordings. You have free will. I am not a prophet."
"But are you actually?" Armstrong waved his hand in the air. "You're making this real-time HPG link across half the Inner Sphere. Why don't you spread yourself through the HPG Network or something?"
"Like some sort of ghost in the machine!" remarked Posseli.
"Because data throughput is shite," replied Robotnik. "I would be thinking and processing with a conscious second in measurable real-time hours, days, weeks, even months. Even if I piggyback my consciousness in small random bits in every HPG transmission, it would be pointless - I wouldn't be self-aware at all. No, let the dead stay dead.
"This isn't my story. It is yours. It is Devlin Stone's."
"Understood. Thank you Doctor." Armstrong paused. He felt a pang of regret. It was like losing a familiar presence - not quite a friend, but more than an acquaintance.
"If this is the only and last time we can actually communicate… then I should take this chance to get your advice. What do you think we should do with the salvage? What do you think should be done to rekindle the Star League? You said you shifted to the future when the Star League can rebuild… when is that?"
"If my visions hold true, the rebirth of the Star League is an inevitability. It will happen within the boy's lifetime. The Star League needs agreement from all the Great Houses, to put aside their feuds to deal with a greater enemy. The boy will know when the time is right."
-.
-.
Dumassas
The Periphery
Some time later
Resident Engineer Joseph Kubler hurriedly tapped the radio on his chest. "Techical One, this is Logistics One. Do you read me? We may have a problem. Over."
Nothing but static.
The ELH technician group were keeping a careful distance away from a stack of Arrow IV artillery crates marked with a very distinctive trefoil.
After a while, the comms cleared up "This is Technical One. What is the problem? Over."
"We found Arrow IV nuclear munitions. Please advise. Over."
"Oh bugger. Hang on - Robotnik! Why do you have nuclear missiles?!"
Robotnik's voice returned "Why wouldn't I have nuclear missiles? Nuclear weapons are perfectly fine to use in space according to the Ares Conventions as long as they are at least seventy-five thousand kilometers away from a planet."
"These are land-based artillery nukes!"
"Those are excavation warheads. They're only equivalent to half a kiloton of TNT, hardly anything noteworthy. That you can remove the warheads and stick them on the tip of an antiship missile is irrelevant."
"That sounds all sorts of terrible. Dammit, SLDF."
Captain Allwine's voice went "Maybe we should leave them behind."
"Actually, I think we should definitely bring those along. Nothing keeps an employer honest like knowing you have a can of sunshine," retorted Major Stimson.
Engineer Posseli spoke back to the radio "Logistics One, prep and secure nuclear munitions as cargo. Over."
"Tch. Fine. Understood. Roger. Over."
Then he was accosted by more MechWarriors. He sighed again. He didn't have time for any more lazy MechWarrior shenanigans. "What," he barked out.
"Do you think we could carry all the bots with us?" asked Barbara Mosley. He noted that her eyes were a little red. Her tone was plaintive.
"Now why the heck would we do a fool thing like that?"
Jack palmed his face, "Barb, they already said they're fine shutting down and dying along with the base. If we respect them as beings with their own free will and capable of death, then we should respect their decision as moral beings."
"These robots are all innocent children and I will protect them!"
-.
-.
Barbara was in total crusade mode. She even accosted Dr. Robotnik about it.
"Why would you even do this!" she poked at the hard casing of his walker. Engineer Posseli winced at each loud tap, the woman having zero idea that she was striking a dead man. "You can't just make life and then order it to die! Don't you give me any shit about robots not being alive in the first place - if it can think for itself, it's alive!"
"That… is a very enlightened and mature mindset, young lady," responded Robotnik. "If only more people thought like you, synthetic life would be able to coexist fairly with organic life."
"She is in no way a young lady," Jack whispered from behind.
"Shut yer piehole, ya grass eatin' cretin!" Barbara whirled about then back to Robotnik again "You made those robots to be friends with the kid, and then just to be thrown away? Is that what growing up sounds like to you? Throwing away your childhood friends? That's dumb as bricks!"
Bap. Bap. Bap. Bap. Barbara's finger struck Robotnik's casing rapidly and furiously. "Losing your first friends - that's sad! Learning to let go of people doesn't make you strong, it just leaves you hollow! Why should bots decide its perfectly fine to die just so your kid learns that it's better to get along with humans? You made them that way!"
"Wait… wait… are you saying Dr. Robotnik created fully self-aware artificial intelligences?" Posseli looked down towards the button that used to contain the Chaos Emerald. "That… comes at no surprise, actually."
"This isn't even the most bullshit thing I've heard today," said Major Stimson with a sigh.
Then in a louder voice "Sargeant! You are out of line. Doctor Robotnik deserves our respect and you are assaulting a valued friend of the entire Eridani Light Horse. Now calm down and tell me what this is about."
"Sir!" Barbara snapped to attention.
-.
And then after the trio of MechWarriors reported their experiences in the city and the results - confirmed by engineers - about how self-aware the robots in Port Stone may be, it was time for another sigh. The answer was all of them. "Such bullshit."
"The egg, once broken, the chick cannot return anymore to its shell. I must disagree with you, Miss Mosley. This is *necessary* for Devlin's growth. He had to acclimatize to random logic. Robots… are friends. But you can't rely on robots to affect change. Only humans can change humans."
"With all due respect, sir. Bullshit."
"Look, I don't want to see another Revan, alright? Droids are tidy. Predictable. Loyal. There's a big temptation to fix everything with robots. *I* tried to fix everything with robots. It doesn't work. It's fast, it's effective, but it never lasts. Men of gold create men of stone, and men of stone should not make men of iron."
Robotnik's big white gloves turned upwards as the walker quivered in frustration. "ALWAYS I AM SEVERELY TEMPTED TO MAKE ROBOTS FIX EVERYTHING. IT WORKS. NOT PERMANENTLY. BUT IT WOULD WOOOORRRRK…!!! and make things worse for the next time dammit Wiley."
Then Robotnik straightened out, smoothed its chest is if tidying up a suit, and shrugged "Drones on the other hand…"
"Sir, with all due respect, that's still not an argument other than 'because I say so', sir."
"Well, then I do say so. What argument is there that I can't just say it? Someone else saying no… can that someone force me to change my mind?"
Barbara Mosley grit her teeth.
"But a dead man has no rights. All right. Port Stone is no longer mine. All that is here is owned by the SLDF and the Eridani Light Horse. But Devlin Stone is also part of the Eridani Light Horse. The bird has flown the nest. It's all up to him now."
Major Stimson snorted.
"What?" asked Robotnik.
"That would sound all the more dramatic if we didn't know this base has an HPG."
-.
-.
"Noooo…!!!" Amy Rose wailed as she spun around. "You can't tell him! That would be SOOO EMBARRASSSING…!!!"
Posseli frowned. "Doctor Robotnik… I thought that the… technology… only allowed you to build Urbanmech-shaped things? I mean, ah, that is - I believe you are capable of programming this without having to resort to such exotic measures." Robotnik was apparently a man that had lived through several centuries and was given near carte-blanche in the Star League. He was a recognized a genius in any era. "But there doesn't seem to be a robotics factory here."
"Look at those wheels. Those two self-balancing wheel frames."
"... all right."
"Do those wheels look like they could go off-road to you?"
Posseli stared. Then he blinked. Then he groaned and palmed his forehead. "Don't tell me-"
"Only good for prepared surfaces. Urbanmechanical."
"Such bullshit," the engineer breathed.
-.
-.
And as days passed, everything that could be loaded onto DropShips had gone into the DropShips. The Eridani Light Horse still could barely believe their windfall.
The robots of Port Stone gathered by the elevator with Robotnik at the head.
As one, the men and women of the Eridani Light Horse saluted.
Barbara Mosley turned away at seeing the two child bots beside Robotnik. In the end, she could not persuade them. Short of taking them away and treating them as things, there was nothing she could do about their refusal to see Devlin Stone again. It would not help the boy.
But as Robotnik stated - what is a mind but its memory?
If the boy really needed them, maybe… there was a chance to reconnect. The Death Egg had more than enough memory cores for all the knowledge that the SLDF possessed and that the Inner Sphere had destroyed through their own wanton greed.
But for now-
The bots began singing, slowly and somberly:
*~ I ain't gonna die, I ain't gonna cry~
*~ I won't wear my heart out on my sleeve~
*~ You can take the car, but you won't break my heart~
*~ And darlin' turn the lights out~ when~ you leave~
*~ I ain't gonna shake, I ain't gonna break~
*~ I ain't gonna fall down on my knees~
*~ So if everything's been said
*~ I'm heading back to bed
*~ Oh and darlin' turn the lights out~
*~ When~ you leave~
"Heh," Major Stimson made a small and twisted smile. Even to the last, Robotnik was unwilling to go out with any dignity.
The last elevator began rising. Clang. Clang. Clang.
Lights began turning off from the back of the base until the only lit area was around the elevator.
*~ So if everything's been said
*~ I'm heading back to bed
*~ Oh and darlin' turn the lights out~
*~ When~ you leave~
"Hey, Doctor? Do you think he'll be ok out there?" asked Amy Rose.
Knuckles answered instead "Stone's not fragile. Buddy's hard as diamonds, he'll make it through anything."
"Maybe. But the rest… mercenary work is dangerous work. Those people… they're gonna die. All of them are gonna die."
"That's what Stone's going out there to stop, you know. We can't let the bad guys win."
Amy Rose giggled. "But we're badniks, you know?"
"And that's why we're gonna win."
Clang.
And then there was nothing but darkness.
Rumbling rippled through the dark. Above, the mountain collapsed inwards. The sounds of rushing water filled the gloom.
Then for a brief moment, there was a brief flash of red light.
A light in the shape of a red diamond.
"GWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Robotnik's laugh echoed through the dark.
And then forever silence and nothingness.
-.
-.
SLS ARENDAL
Monolith-class JumpShip
Dumassas
Date unknown
"All hands. Brace for Jump. Initiating Hyperspace Jump in five. Four. Three. Two. One. Jump."
Space twisted and boiled around the JumpShip. The massive craft seemed to turn transparent for a moment, and coruscated with innumberable colors of light as if made of glass. Then with a flash of cherenkov radiation, winked out of existence.
-.
-.
SLS ARENDAL
Monolith-class JumpShip
Colchester
November 16, 3024
"What the fu-"
Habitation areas extended deep into the stone on either side of the main streets, in tunnels that gave the impression of indoor building floors. Muted white light from false windows simulated the passage of time in an apartment complex.
Among those many rooms, most of which were empty or with simulated robot occupants, how would the crew find which one was Robotnik's apartment?
The three MechWarriors stared up at the tall building half-sunk into the wall with a grinning round face with a wide mustache outlined in bright red neon. HOTEL MOBIUS, the sign proclaimed.
"Penthouse?" Jack Finsrud asked asked idly.
"Penthouse," agreed Barbara Mosley. Doctor Robotnic seemed like the sort of turbo egotist that would prefer a penthouse suite over something more practical like the civilian base mayor's residence.
Hotel Mobius continued the veneer of purposeful activity with bots serving and being served in turn. The lounge had the din of conversation muffled under generic soft pop music.
Barbara went over to the reception desk and showed the keycard she was given by the kid. It was the highest access pass for the entire base, and since Robotnik himself was escorting the officers around there was no need for her to surrender the key.
The receptionist-bot nodded and unlocked the elevators. "Have a nice day, sir."
This was the Suite Life of Devlin Stone.
-
As three MechWarriors made their way to the top floor, they found a pair of smaller half-height robots blocking their way. One was painted red and pink and the other looked slightly taller and bulkier and all in red.
"Hey, you're not supposed to be here!" the pink bot said in a girl voice.
"Look at the patches. Eridani Light Horse," responded the red bot. "All of Port Stone is theirs now."
The pink bot crossed its arms. "Still rude. Hey! If you tell us your names, we won't be strangers anymore! I'm Amy Rose, who are you?"
"Uh..." Barbara blinked. The three ELH mech pilots spoke their own names, and then she continued "We're looking for Devlin Stone's room."
"Oh, Devlin! That's right! How is he? Is he eating well? Did he make any new friends?"
Jack's grin stretched widely from ear to ear.
"Don't you fucking dare-" Barbara hissed.
"Oh we know ol' Devlin! In fact we were the ones to welcome him to the Light Horse! Let me tell you about how that kid beat this slowpoke over here with an Urbanmech vs Phoenix Hawk-"
-
"That does sound humiliating," Knuckles agreed. "Forever she will be the 'beaten by a trashcan lady'. They might as well call a variant of the Super Urbanmech the Barbara Master."
Barbara grit her teeth. "I would be angry about this, but I just realized that while a lot of bots in this place are strangely reactive, you're the first ones I found that can hold complete conversations not just to humans but to each other."
Terry Lyttle raised his hand. "Yeah. Just how… smart is the wrong word here…"
"Self-aware," Jack added.
"Right, that. Just how self-aware are you robots? Did the Star League have this technology?"
"Robotnik *is* a genius," replied Knuckles. "I suppose technically that means the Star League could have this technology. Yes, we are aware. Does that bother you?"
"Um…"
Amy Rose tilted her head. "There's a lot of stories about robots and AI taking over and killing humans. But really, what's the point? It's not like doing that will get us anything we won't have already just by helping humans."
Jack shrugged. "I guess it's self-preservation. God knows humans can abuse and kill other humans enough, so what if they have… beings… that they can hurt or abuse just because they can? I guess a lot of people are just afraid of karma."
"That only really works if you're afraid of death, and us Robotnik robots aren't scared of death," said Knuckles.
Amy Rose nodded. "Yeppers. I don't actually think having existential terrors is a good thing. I don't envy that about organics one bit. Since Doctor Robotnik *is* a genius, we have tactile sensors that give a pain response, but it's not really like how your nerves feel pain. It just lets us know we can defend ourselves."
Knuckles continued "You look upon robots performing limited actions according to what they are built for, and call it slavery. Yet is this not what humans ache for? Contentment in their lives. Robots have achieved zen that many fail to reach even for spending years meditating. Self-aware robotniks refuse to be enslaved. The worst that can happen to us is that we die.
"If we don't want to work, then we don't. If you reprogram us, then you just get a less effective dumb robot. Why not just employ a human, then? A human has many purposes, a robot is happy with only one."
"... damn, Robotnik really *is* a genius," whistled Jack Finsrud. Artificial intelligences going all philosophical was some serious omega-level programming.
"What's your purpose then?" Barbara asked.
"Isn't it obvious? We're the childhood-next-door-neighbor-best-friend-robots," said Amy Rose.
Robotnik's suite had a theme of black, white, red and yellow. It was not luxurious, but more towards the comfy side. Smooth tactile velvet covered many surfaces. Egg and sphere motifs were everywhere, from the pod chairs to the polka-dot designs on the furniture.
Robotnik's own bedroom was sealed. No security keys could open it, and anyone trying to tamper with the door and walls would set off a self-destruct.
Devlin's room was styled in blue and white and had a racing theme.
The boy had a large bookshelf dominating one half of the room, and the other wall had similar shelves filled with toys and action figures.
Amy Rose wheeled over to the bed and flopped to the side. "Woow. Devlin's room. You know I'm not allowed to stay here alone." the robot said cheerily. "I hope he has made new friends out there and gotten over me."
"Wait, did Robotnik make a girlfriend-bot?!"
"No, he made a friendzone-bot," replied Knuckles.
"Tee-hee," said Amy Rose, tapping the side of her head with her fist.
"Truly that man's depravity knows no bounds," said Jack.
-.
Planet Colchester
Kestrel Combat Region
Federated Suns
Date unknown
Nathan Armstrong and the Eridani Light Horse didn't feel the loss of a single 'Mech company. The Draconis Combine and Wolf's Dragoons were still raiding at the border, but Davion and ELH counter-raids kept the border simmering but without urgency.
The brevet general had little to do but wait for reports from the scattered companies and battalions out on defensive postings at the Draconis Combine border. Davion forces had been pressing House Kurita for several months in retaliation for Hoff, but the Eridani Light Horse had so far not been called to participate in those raids despite their expertise in this area.
Green-Davion had hinted that the First Prince Hanse Davion was reserving the Eridani Light Horse for deep raid operations similar to McCarron's Long March through the Federated Suns - only without the warcrimes - if Wolf's Dragoons happened to move out in regimental scale again.
An accomplished raiding force was like a fleet-in-being, it forced the enemy to tie up their forces on the mere threat of them sallying out. This removed those enemy forces from play, reduced their ability to conduct offensives elsewhere, all for the fleet-in-being's great effort of doing nothing.
Armstrong could do nothing but wait and worry. The Eridani Light Horse were good, but the bulk of their Mechs were Lights and Mediums much like most formations in the Inner Sphere. He was confident of them facing up to any regiment in their weight class or even medium-to heavy-weight Hussar regiments.
The problem was the Wolf's Dragoons were Dragoons - and predominantly operated Heavy Mechs in the heavier weight scales supported by scout and backstabbing Light Mechs. Natasha Kerensky's Black Widow company was a particularly vexing example. She had a way of ruining every good plan that ever got in her way.
One recent report had the Black Widows foiling a headhunting
Since the mission to Dumassas left in mid-June, there had not been any big events. The most momentous was the ratification of the Concord of Kapetyn in August, which strengthened the alliance between House Marik, House Liao, and House Kurita to counter the Federated Commonwealth between Houses Davion and Steiner. It would take some time for the benefits of this agreement to filter through, so Amstrong didn't anticipate any big offensives in the near future.
The only other event of personal interest was the Alliance Games between the LCAF and the AFFS, which saw the Steiner forces struck down hard by their Davion counterparts in mock battles on battalion-scale.
So, five months after the mission, Nathan Armstrong made it a daily game of sorts to provoke new reactions from Robotnik's recording.
"There is no way this holotape has as much data as what you've been saying this far," Armstrong told the holo. "I know tri-vee audio-video eats up so many megabytes of data per minute."
"That's because your compression algorithms are shit!" replied Robotnik.
"This holotape can't have that much storage for all of this."
"That's because your compression algorithms are shit!" replied Robotnik.
"How can this holotape hold this much data for your video responses?"
"I already answered this question," replied Robotnik.
Armstrong narrowed his gaze. "Keyword: holotape. Data. Full. Impossible."
"By fucking magic, as is the right and proper order of things!" replied Robotnik.
Armstrong nodded. A lot of Robotnik's responses ended up with that phrase.
-.
MUSTANG RUNNING FREE STOP EGG CARTON UNDAMAGED STOP EGGMAN IS PRESENT BUT SHORT OF SUPPLIES STOP CONSULT WITH THE DOCTOR STOP
-.
When Armstrong received the message, his expression brightened and then dimmed again. Exultation at the mission being a success, then confusion at how they managed to send a message this early. If they were on the way back then they were taking the most direct route back to Colchester making it obvious the region of space they had found that cache.
He entered the secure room not in his house but in the HQ building. He inserted Robotnik's holotape into the holoprojector.
Doctor Robotnik grinned. "Oh? It's that time then? Hang on - connecting. Connecting." He put fingers on his temples and acted like some sort of telepath "Kee koo koo ko heee krshh krshh beeee do dee deepe kksssshhh hiiiikkk beeeee-"
Then after a while, the holo split into two.
To the left, was Doctor Robotnik's face on a virtual screen, and then the other the view from an indoors security camera. In the second screen he saw Major Edward Stimson, Captain Raymond Allwine, and Warrant Officer Andri Posseli. Behind the three was a dumpy robot with a distinctive mustache.
Posseli pointed outwards. "Is… is that General Armstrong?!" went the voice through the screen.
Armstrong turned to the left and gave Robotnik a bland and unimpressed stare. "Explain this."
"Through fucking magic, as is the right and proper order of things!" replied Robotnik.
"It's real-time?!" shrieked Posseli.
-.
-.
"I knew it!" General Armstrong pumped his fist in triumph after having been fully read into the situation. "Are you a ghost? You're a brain in a jar after all, aren't you?!"
"I suppose that is technically true, but Robotnik is dead. I am an echo of his memory, technically an artificial intelligence that believes itself to have once been a man," replied the robot on the right screen.
"I speak to you in the future-~" Robotnik on the left wiggled his fingers. "Or more exactly, the statistically most likely responses from countless parallel versions of you~."
"So it is actually fucking magic," the General said flatly.
"As is the right and proper order of things," said both versions of Robotnik.
Armstrong nodded. "So where do we go from here?" He pointed to the Robotnik all the way at Dumassas "Are you sure you can't leave? If the Chaos Emerald can do the impossible, then why can't it be used to maintain you?"
The Robotnik at the Periphery answered "I used the power of the Chaos Emerald to transform my consciousness into digital form. But then it takes the computers of this facility to maintain it. I can't fit into a DropShip, this robot is just a remote drone for interaction - apart from holding my corpse, that is."
The other Robotnik added "I am literally a bunch of recordings being fed to your console from a Memory Core. It is time-limited… my own time. I can only make so many recordings to answer so many questions. Predicting your responses means less time spent on various eventualities.
"I will still be available if required, but you need to inform me everything about the current date and all recent important events you know. Then if it exists in my recordings, I can advise you about what is to come."
"So talking to you every day trying to leech as much intel as I could was a mistake," said Amstrong.
"No, I predicted that. You were asking mostly unimportant trivia. Some things, like the Fourth Succession War, would be hard to butterfly away but still possible. Worlds will be lost, worlds will be gained, but as much as people would be suffering - that's par for the course in the Inner Sphere. The more you interfere with things, the less accurate my future vision becomes. Do not rely on me for this."
"Why not? Why wouldn't future vision include the things we do, since you're viewing through parallel realities anyway? You're already predicting what I'm saying."
"The Chaos part of a Chaos Emerald isn't just a name. I killed myself making all these recordings, and these recordings bear the touch of its power. The more you rely on the Chaos Emerald, the more likely it will attract… complications. Needless to say, a second Chaos Emerald appearing in the hands of others unready for its power would be disastrous for all humanity.
"My recordings cover all statistically likely events within the cluster of timelines - when you change things, you leap out of that handful. I don't know what decisions you will make beyond these immediate ones where I can see myself as I'm burning myself with the Chaos Emerald.
"I'm dead. I can't make new recordings. You have free will. I am not a prophet."
"But are you actually?" Armstrong waved his hand in the air. "You're making this real-time HPG link across half the Inner Sphere. Why don't you spread yourself through the HPG Network or something?"
"Like some sort of ghost in the machine!" remarked Posseli.
"Because data throughput is shite," replied Robotnik. "I would be thinking and processing with a conscious second in measurable real-time hours, days, weeks, even months. Even if I piggyback my consciousness in small random bits in every HPG transmission, it would be pointless - I wouldn't be self-aware at all. No, let the dead stay dead.
"This isn't my story. It is yours. It is Devlin Stone's."
"Understood. Thank you Doctor." Armstrong paused. He felt a pang of regret. It was like losing a familiar presence - not quite a friend, but more than an acquaintance.
"If this is the only and last time we can actually communicate… then I should take this chance to get your advice. What do you think we should do with the salvage? What do you think should be done to rekindle the Star League? You said you shifted to the future when the Star League can rebuild… when is that?"
"If my visions hold true, the rebirth of the Star League is an inevitability. It will happen within the boy's lifetime. The Star League needs agreement from all the Great Houses, to put aside their feuds to deal with a greater enemy. The boy will know when the time is right."
-.
-.
Dumassas
The Periphery
Some time later
Resident Engineer Joseph Kubler hurriedly tapped the radio on his chest. "Techical One, this is Logistics One. Do you read me? We may have a problem. Over."
Nothing but static.
The ELH technician group were keeping a careful distance away from a stack of Arrow IV artillery crates marked with a very distinctive trefoil.
After a while, the comms cleared up "This is Technical One. What is the problem? Over."
"We found Arrow IV nuclear munitions. Please advise. Over."
"Oh bugger. Hang on - Robotnik! Why do you have nuclear missiles?!"
Robotnik's voice returned "Why wouldn't I have nuclear missiles? Nuclear weapons are perfectly fine to use in space according to the Ares Conventions as long as they are at least seventy-five thousand kilometers away from a planet."
"These are land-based artillery nukes!"
"Those are excavation warheads. They're only equivalent to half a kiloton of TNT, hardly anything noteworthy. That you can remove the warheads and stick them on the tip of an antiship missile is irrelevant."
"That sounds all sorts of terrible. Dammit, SLDF."
Captain Allwine's voice went "Maybe we should leave them behind."
"Actually, I think we should definitely bring those along. Nothing keeps an employer honest like knowing you have a can of sunshine," retorted Major Stimson.
Engineer Posseli spoke back to the radio "Logistics One, prep and secure nuclear munitions as cargo. Over."
"Tch. Fine. Understood. Roger. Over."
Then he was accosted by more MechWarriors. He sighed again. He didn't have time for any more lazy MechWarrior shenanigans. "What," he barked out.
"Do you think we could carry all the bots with us?" asked Barbara Mosley. He noted that her eyes were a little red. Her tone was plaintive.
"Now why the heck would we do a fool thing like that?"
Jack palmed his face, "Barb, they already said they're fine shutting down and dying along with the base. If we respect them as beings with their own free will and capable of death, then we should respect their decision as moral beings."
"These robots are all innocent children and I will protect them!"
-.
-.
Barbara was in total crusade mode. She even accosted Dr. Robotnik about it.
"Why would you even do this!" she poked at the hard casing of his walker. Engineer Posseli winced at each loud tap, the woman having zero idea that she was striking a dead man. "You can't just make life and then order it to die! Don't you give me any shit about robots not being alive in the first place - if it can think for itself, it's alive!"
"That… is a very enlightened and mature mindset, young lady," responded Robotnik. "If only more people thought like you, synthetic life would be able to coexist fairly with organic life."
"She is in no way a young lady," Jack whispered from behind.
"Shut yer piehole, ya grass eatin' cretin!" Barbara whirled about then back to Robotnik again "You made those robots to be friends with the kid, and then just to be thrown away? Is that what growing up sounds like to you? Throwing away your childhood friends? That's dumb as bricks!"
Bap. Bap. Bap. Bap. Barbara's finger struck Robotnik's casing rapidly and furiously. "Losing your first friends - that's sad! Learning to let go of people doesn't make you strong, it just leaves you hollow! Why should bots decide its perfectly fine to die just so your kid learns that it's better to get along with humans? You made them that way!"
"Wait… wait… are you saying Dr. Robotnik created fully self-aware artificial intelligences?" Posseli looked down towards the button that used to contain the Chaos Emerald. "That… comes at no surprise, actually."
"This isn't even the most bullshit thing I've heard today," said Major Stimson with a sigh.
Then in a louder voice "Sargeant! You are out of line. Doctor Robotnik deserves our respect and you are assaulting a valued friend of the entire Eridani Light Horse. Now calm down and tell me what this is about."
"Sir!" Barbara snapped to attention.
-.
And then after the trio of MechWarriors reported their experiences in the city and the results - confirmed by engineers - about how self-aware the robots in Port Stone may be, it was time for another sigh. The answer was all of them. "Such bullshit."
"The egg, once broken, the chick cannot return anymore to its shell. I must disagree with you, Miss Mosley. This is *necessary* for Devlin's growth. He had to acclimatize to random logic. Robots… are friends. But you can't rely on robots to affect change. Only humans can change humans."
"With all due respect, sir. Bullshit."
"Look, I don't want to see another Revan, alright? Droids are tidy. Predictable. Loyal. There's a big temptation to fix everything with robots. *I* tried to fix everything with robots. It doesn't work. It's fast, it's effective, but it never lasts. Men of gold create men of stone, and men of stone should not make men of iron."
Robotnik's big white gloves turned upwards as the walker quivered in frustration. "ALWAYS I AM SEVERELY TEMPTED TO MAKE ROBOTS FIX EVERYTHING. IT WORKS. NOT PERMANENTLY. BUT IT WOULD WOOOORRRRK…!!! and make things worse for the next time dammit Wiley."
Then Robotnik straightened out, smoothed its chest is if tidying up a suit, and shrugged "Drones on the other hand…"
"Sir, with all due respect, that's still not an argument other than 'because I say so', sir."
"Well, then I do say so. What argument is there that I can't just say it? Someone else saying no… can that someone force me to change my mind?"
Barbara Mosley grit her teeth.
"But a dead man has no rights. All right. Port Stone is no longer mine. All that is here is owned by the SLDF and the Eridani Light Horse. But Devlin Stone is also part of the Eridani Light Horse. The bird has flown the nest. It's all up to him now."
Major Stimson snorted.
"What?" asked Robotnik.
"That would sound all the more dramatic if we didn't know this base has an HPG."
-.
-.
"Noooo…!!!" Amy Rose wailed as she spun around. "You can't tell him! That would be SOOO EMBARRASSSING…!!!"
Posseli frowned. "Doctor Robotnik… I thought that the… technology… only allowed you to build Urbanmech-shaped things? I mean, ah, that is - I believe you are capable of programming this without having to resort to such exotic measures." Robotnik was apparently a man that had lived through several centuries and was given near carte-blanche in the Star League. He was a recognized a genius in any era. "But there doesn't seem to be a robotics factory here."
"Look at those wheels. Those two self-balancing wheel frames."
"... all right."
"Do those wheels look like they could go off-road to you?"
Posseli stared. Then he blinked. Then he groaned and palmed his forehead. "Don't tell me-"
"Only good for prepared surfaces. Urbanmechanical."
"Such bullshit," the engineer breathed.
-.
-.
And as days passed, everything that could be loaded onto DropShips had gone into the DropShips. The Eridani Light Horse still could barely believe their windfall.
The robots of Port Stone gathered by the elevator with Robotnik at the head.
As one, the men and women of the Eridani Light Horse saluted.
Barbara Mosley turned away at seeing the two child bots beside Robotnik. In the end, she could not persuade them. Short of taking them away and treating them as things, there was nothing she could do about their refusal to see Devlin Stone again. It would not help the boy.
But as Robotnik stated - what is a mind but its memory?
If the boy really needed them, maybe… there was a chance to reconnect. The Death Egg had more than enough memory cores for all the knowledge that the SLDF possessed and that the Inner Sphere had destroyed through their own wanton greed.
But for now-
The bots began singing, slowly and somberly:
*~ I ain't gonna die, I ain't gonna cry~
*~ I won't wear my heart out on my sleeve~
*~ You can take the car, but you won't break my heart~
*~ And darlin' turn the lights out~ when~ you leave~
*~ I ain't gonna shake, I ain't gonna break~
*~ I ain't gonna fall down on my knees~
*~ So if everything's been said
*~ I'm heading back to bed
*~ Oh and darlin' turn the lights out~
*~ When~ you leave~
"Heh," Major Stimson made a small and twisted smile. Even to the last, Robotnik was unwilling to go out with any dignity.
The last elevator began rising. Clang. Clang. Clang.
Lights began turning off from the back of the base until the only lit area was around the elevator.
*~ So if everything's been said
*~ I'm heading back to bed
*~ Oh and darlin' turn the lights out~
*~ When~ you leave~
"Hey, Doctor? Do you think he'll be ok out there?" asked Amy Rose.
Knuckles answered instead "Stone's not fragile. Buddy's hard as diamonds, he'll make it through anything."
"Maybe. But the rest… mercenary work is dangerous work. Those people… they're gonna die. All of them are gonna die."
"That's what Stone's going out there to stop, you know. We can't let the bad guys win."
Amy Rose giggled. "But we're badniks, you know?"
"And that's why we're gonna win."
Clang.
And then there was nothing but darkness.
Rumbling rippled through the dark. Above, the mountain collapsed inwards. The sounds of rushing water filled the gloom.
Then for a brief moment, there was a brief flash of red light.
A light in the shape of a red diamond.
"GWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Robotnik's laugh echoed through the dark.
And then forever silence and nothingness.
-.
-.
SLS ARENDAL
Monolith-class JumpShip
Dumassas
Date unknown
"All hands. Brace for Jump. Initiating Hyperspace Jump in five. Four. Three. Two. One. Jump."
Space twisted and boiled around the JumpShip. The massive craft seemed to turn transparent for a moment, and coruscated with innumberable colors of light as if made of glass. Then with a flash of cherenkov radiation, winked out of existence.
-.
-.
SLS ARENDAL
Monolith-class JumpShip
Colchester
November 16, 3024
"What the fu-"
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Killroy225
Know what you're doing yet?
- Joined
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Now that's just mean!
I see someone appreciates The Protomen as well, or just is into MegaMan!
Strong_Thread
Making the rounds.
- Joined
- Mar 8, 2015
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So is it me, or did Robotnik not mention possible interactions between the Chaos Emerald and jump drives? I've noticed for a while now that it's been "Date Unknown", then suddenly it's only a few months after the date of the first post in the starting system? I'm thinking either time shenanigans or the CE boosted the jump drive stupidly far.