The Awakening [R] Book I of the Dark Falcons

Post your Battletech stories and read & rate the tales of others!

Moderators: AVA MANGO TWO, Ravion Hawk, Typhoon, trboturtle

Rayo Azul
BTU Rank
BTU Rank
Posts: 1071
Joined: Thu May 14, 2009 3:31 pm
Location: Madrid, Spain
Contact:

The Awakening [R] Book I of the Dark Falcons

Post by Rayo Azul » Fri May 15, 2009 4:58 am

A hangover normally is associated with pain, but for Jax the morning after promises much more than that. If he had only knew, he would just have stayed in bed.
Last edited by Rayo Azul on Sat Aug 01, 2009 10:04 am, edited 1 time in total.

Rayo Azul
BTU Rank
BTU Rank
Posts: 1071
Joined: Thu May 14, 2009 3:31 pm
Location: Madrid, Spain
Contact:

Post by Rayo Azul » Fri May 15, 2009 5:00 am

Chapter One

Pain. A dull, throbbing torture which twisted Jax’s face, as he squirmed into a better pillow position. Now he pushed his legs out, relieving the pressure on an already overstrained bladder. What had he drunk last night? Nothing strange, he hoped. Truthfully, though, recollection of any physical memory was impossible in his current state.

His football-shaped alarm spewed forth its strident merriment and he savagely smashed it with his fist. It bounced back off the wall straight into his face, all the while cheerily killing him softly. Returning the favour he grabbed the thing, pounding it time and again against the floor, until its squealing turned into a death rattle. Satisfied he let it go, preparing himself for the banging protest he was sure would follow. The old lady below was constantly knocking a broom handle against her ceiling, the most trivial of transgressions rewarded with a sweeping symphony. Surprisingly enough, nothing. Sighing, Jax drifted back into sleep, the booming of his headache fading as he found his pillow’s sweet spot.

*

With a start Jax woke, what time was it? Groaning he realised that his earlier actions had caused him to be late again. This time, there would be no reprieve. He lay spread-eagled for a while, then roused himself, half-falling from the bed in a tangle of sheets. Cursing he kicked his feet from their prison and stumbled to the bathroom. Each and every sound was raised to a decibel level way above local standards and Jax had to rest his head against the cold tiles in front of him, for at least some relief.

Once fortified with painkillers, dry biscuits and coffee strong enough to chew, he felt ready to brave whatever disaster faced the world today. There was no saving his job, so Jax had decided to be sick. The way he felt right now, no-one could accuse him of lying. Remote in hand, biscuit in mouth and coffee close by, he sank once again into his pillow and pressed the red Power button. A three note chime announced the machine’s preparations and he sipped his coffee gingerly, the liquid making his dry biscuit more palatable.

White static wiggled across the flat screen, a roaring of no-noise accompanying it. Channel after channel was the same and no amount of frustrated tuning would cure it. At last Jax gave in, he needed proper food and the Café on the Corner could provide him that, strong liquor and video feed. His resolve strengthened he headed once more for the bathroom and a hot shower.

*

Once rugged up; heavy coat, scarf and balaclava optional, but essential, he was ready to venture out into the cold. Winter had struck early this year and refused to stop punching; its icy grasp clinging tightly to the city. Yesterday, when his vid-screen worked, the weather lady had been less than optimistic; cloud, sleet and snow. Locking the door to his flat behind him, Jax pressed the button to call the lift and waited. He was thankful for the quiet, no screaming children or noisy neighbours, unusual in itself, but welcome all the same.

It was when the lift doors opened onto the foyer that Jax began to notice that something was wrong. Not even that, more different and unexpected. Dave the Doorman was missing, an absolute first which worried him a little. His grumbling stomach helped him to dismiss his anxiety and so objective fixed, he pushed open the front door.

Silence. No railcar, no transports, not even a bird chirping. Absolute absence of noise enveloped him. Swiftly he ran back inside, shouting for Dave, but there was no answer. He banged on the doors to the ground floor flats. Nothing. The com by Dave’s desk gave a dialling tone, but a desperate call to the local switchboard was met only by static. Confused and not a little scared, Jax decided that his first idea was the best, the Café on the Corner would solve everything. With a grunt, he levered himself out of Dave’s chair and tentatively opened the door onto the street.

*

A quick look left and right showed no traffic, zero movement in fact of any sort. At the bottom of the street was the local transport, skewed across the path and semi-ensconced in the baker’s front window. The concertina door was half open, yet when he tentatively poked his head inside there was only empty space. He had seen no human life to date and then it struck him. No life of any kind.

Jax stood in the middle of the road, eyes flickering all around; no pigeons, no dogs, not even the buzzing of a fly. He screamed a desperate hello and his voice never even registered an echo.

His shuffling feet stubbed against a discarded walking stick and he grasped it, relief washing over him. Mock weapon in hand he continued, now and again swishing the wooden staff through the air in warning. It took him longer than normal to reach his favourite Cafe, but that was accounted for by the cautious approach to each corner, dropping to all fours and peering knee-high around the brickwork.

Using the stick’s tip he opened the door, letting it swing back twice before holding it ajar. This time his voice echoed when he called, the answer though remained the same. A search showed he was alone. Angrily he tossed money onto the bar and reaching across grabbed a half-full whisky bottle. Disdaining a glass he poured the raw alcohol down his throat, choking and spluttering. After a time his perseverance was rewarded with spinning walls, vomit and unconsciousness.

*

The singing woke him. It was dark and the unlit interior of the Cafe allowed him a clear view of the street whose automatic lighting was definitely functioning. Nose pressed against the front window he stared, breath misting the surface and momentarily clouding his vision. A quick wipe confirmed what he was seeing; vague, distorted shapes stumbling in and out of the shadows. Their bodies strangely hunched and humped. Step by step they moved in file towards a nearby alleyway, as though drawn by an irresistible siren song. It was then he saw her, screamed in warning and with no thought for his own safety, rushed to her aid, walking stick grasped firmly in his hand.

*

“Do you see her?” The voice was cold, metallic.

“Yes, Star Captain.” And then a pause, “There is no honour in this.”

“Just follow your orders. There’s a lesson here for them all to learn. No-one can escape from the Clans with impunity.”

He saw the woman’s shape, heard her deranged singing and, just for a moment doubted. Then the golden reticule tightened on her, adrenaline surged through his system and he fired.

*

“No-o-o!” Jax screamed as he saw the armour-covered figures and the pulsing, dancing beams of destruction.

The metallic clang of his improvised weapon sounded futile, as was its effects. A huge arm struck him, smashing him off a nearby wall and it was then he heard the heavy sounds of Mechs and knew his worst nightmare was realised. The Clans were here.
Last edited by Rayo Azul on Fri May 15, 2009 2:08 pm, edited 2 times in total.

Flaco
BTU Rank
BTU Rank
Posts: 267
Joined: Tue Jan 20, 2009 7:54 pm

Post by Flaco » Fri May 15, 2009 6:45 am

wow, that is awesome.
Please continue
Life is like playing a card game. Its not whether you get the best hand, its whether or not you play the worst hand well.

Rayo Azul
BTU Rank
BTU Rank
Posts: 1071
Joined: Thu May 14, 2009 3:31 pm
Location: Madrid, Spain
Contact:

Post by Rayo Azul » Fri May 15, 2009 9:11 am

When he woke again, he knew his nightmare was real. Jax was chained to the wall of a dank and ill-smelling cellar. All around him were the smells of fear and despair. Bodies packed close together, his fellow inhabitants of the city moaned and wailed. A noise of marching feet drew his attention and with a protesting screech, the metal doors were opened.

There had been news of what the Clan members looked like, but he was ill-prepared for the reality of the huge man who bent and entered. Bull-necked and arrogant he stared into the semi-darkness. His eyes locked onto those of Jax and he grunted with laughter.

“That one.” He said and Jax was roughly dragged out into the early morning light.

“What…?”

“Quiet, Bondsman,” growled the big man, “you were man enough to face up to us last night, don’t shame either of us now by your mewling.”

The square outside the building in which he had been held was a hive of activity. Men and women in their Clan uniforms hurried to and fro. A group of armoured men, as big as his captor, stalked past. There was an overwhelming hubbub of sound, broken only by the thump and whine of enormous feet. Jax looked on in awe as the semi-human Omnimech entered the area.

Where are our forces? What had happened to the planetary resistance? As if in answer to his question there was a scream of LRM’s and explosions blossomed. He saw the Omnimech’s head turn and then its body shudder as it responded in kind. Then it began to pick up speed, the crash of its movement joined by others of its kind.

“You!” said the Elemental to one of the cowering Techs, “take this one to my quarters. It looks like there are some malcontents still to be subdued.”

“Yes, Star Captain,” came the meek reply.

*

“Eagle One to Eagle Base, over. I repeat, Eagle One to Eagle Base, over!” Nothing, there was zero response. Captain Marius cursed as he pounded his fist against his control panel. He had seen the Base Mechs implode under the vicious enemy barrage, and had heard the frantic transmissions from the Command Centre as the invaders smashed their way through the final defences.

His wing had responded to his call, flying close to the automatic anti-aircraft systems of the dropship hovering overhead, relying on their own friendly identification transponders to protect them. They had flown tip to tip, their autocannons blazing a metallic path of death in front of them. The enemy fighters had been unable to resist, yet the ploy had not been without casualties.

Two of his Wing had been downed on the first pass by enemy missiles, another blown apart by the dropship’s own defences. It was irrelevant now though, they had nowhere to land. The landing strip had been destroyed. Basically there were two choices, die here or try and link up with any remaining ground forces, a slower yet no less certain death based upon the vast superiority of the enemy.

Marius was leaning towards a more glorious and rapid end, here amongst the last remains of his companions. Not because he was the most heroic of men, rather the most practical. Signal strength was minimal and therefore he could not contact anyone on the planet, he had three SRM remaining, his autocannons were less than half-full and his laser was all but useless.

There was no certainty his men would feel the same way, but he had to at least give them the option. Drawing in a deep breath he reached to active his transmitter, but was forestalled by an incoming message.


“This is Colonel Walters calling all surviving Navy personnel. You are to disengage, I repeat, disengage from enemy contact. I am assuming overall control for this mission. You will lock on to the signal which is currently being transmitted from my temporary headquarters. Walters Out!”

Captain Marius looked curiously at his com, he must have subconsciously flicked the switch to transmit after the message had finished. Cautiously he responded, “Marius here, can you verify? Over.”

“Captain, make your choice,“ replied the voice flatly, “accept my invitation unconditionally or die out there. Out!”

This was more than strange, thought Marius, he had never given his rank, or had he?

*

“Do you think they fell for it?” asked one of the armoured men.

“Of course they did. These Freebirth are less than human. Thinking is an impossibility for them,” replied another.

“The Star Captain won’t like it…”

“Well he’s not here and I am. You’ll do what …”

“They’ll do nothing Karl. What dishonour have you concocted this time?”

The group turned to see the large imposing figure of the Star Captain appear, but further discussion was cut short as the fighters roared into view.

shalom itay
BTU Rank
BTU Rank
Posts: 2293
Joined: Sun Sep 07, 2003 4:23 am
Location: Israel

Post by shalom itay » Fri May 15, 2009 11:55 am

It is nice to read something about the Clan invasion.

Flaco
BTU Rank
BTU Rank
Posts: 267
Joined: Tue Jan 20, 2009 7:54 pm

Post by Flaco » Fri May 15, 2009 12:05 pm

I didnt realize the clans thought of the innersphere that way
Life is like playing a card game. Its not whether you get the best hand, its whether or not you play the worst hand well.

Rayo Azul
BTU Rank
BTU Rank
Posts: 1071
Joined: Thu May 14, 2009 3:31 pm
Location: Madrid, Spain
Contact:

Post by Rayo Azul » Fri May 15, 2009 12:47 pm

Thanks guys for the encouragement. I think the original Clan invasion timeline is one of my favourites. I always imagined that at least the Guardians felt that way.

More to come soon.

Cheers

rayo

Rayo Azul
BTU Rank
BTU Rank
Posts: 1071
Joined: Thu May 14, 2009 3:31 pm
Location: Madrid, Spain
Contact:

Post by Rayo Azul » Fri May 15, 2009 2:03 pm

Jax knew something was wrong. It was not the fact that he was forgotten about, although that in itself was annoying. Rather, it was the manic rush, the press of bodies in Clan uniform and his lack of understanding. The cord tied around his wrist hinted of slavery and no-one was willing to explain anything to him. He had been on the receiving end of a really bad last twenty-four hours and his head still thrummed in protest.

Now the dropship seemed to resonate with his own pain and it finally seeped into his numbed senses that the craft was leaving, with him on it. He was kicked to one side, glared at and cursed. Then he was alone. A roaring of engines was transmitted through the hull as the ship clawed itself free from the gravity well of the planet and Jax slumped to the floor, overwhelmed by a futile rage.

*

Star Captain Otho Pershaw squinted as the sun reflected off the silvered wings of the fighters. This was idiocy. He knew that Karl was up to his usual tricks, his jealously had recently become outright rebellion and Otho determined to settle this once and for all when this was over.

“Fire!”

At his order, SRM’s screamed upwards. The first craft flew straight into them, one wing torn away and arcing up. It hung for a moment and then span to follow the rest of the fighter as it ploughed into the earth. More missiles hit their targets and the Wing of fighters split, desperately trying to avoid their impending doom. It was already too late.

He saw two pilots eject clear, the others in the Wing had little chance. The pulse of a laser scorched past him, too close to have been a mistake. There was no apology, but Otho could have sworn he heard a grunt of laughter.

*
Heat rolled over Al Sheehan in a palpable wave. He had seen the missiles streak towards the fighters, they had come from just over the ridge. Whoever had fired was the least of his worries right now. The left foot of his Mech was hanging together by a few threads of miomer and the constant pounding of missiles and laser fire was boiling him alive. He cycled power to his Gauss rifle. It was about the only thing left working.

Stories about the Clans had proven to be woefully inaccurate. Their fire-power was awesome. Before he could close the distance between his Mech and the strangely familiar shapes of the metallic monsters before him, he had been cut apart. It was impossible to know where the rest of his men were. Communication had become useless amid the twisting and turning of battle.

At last he got a green light and aimed for the centre of the chest of the Mech in front of him. Teeth clenched, he fired. The silver mass projectile lanced forward, a deadly blur as it punched through armour. There was a puff of smoke and the enemy staggered. He felt a momentary elation as the thing wobbled and then was amazed as it straightened. It’s torso twisted, its right arm extended and then all hell let loose.

Alarms blared and he saw the danger signal flash for his fusion plant. Without a second sort he punched his ejection button and was slammed back into his seat as explosive bolts did their job. As he flew upwards, he saw the headless remains of his Mech crash to the floor. The force of its destruction buffeted him and he tried his best to control his wayward flight. This did not look good.

*

“What now, Star Captain?”

Otho could hear the sneer in Karl’s voice, but chose to ignore it.

“We move out. Our orders are clear. This is only a small part of our real objective. The recall will be sounded shortly and I for one have no intention of remaining as part of the imposed Garrison. What about you?”

“I am a warrior,” said Karl, “I go where the fighting is.”

“Yes, I see,” said Pershaw, indicating the smouldering remains of the fighters, “like today. I heard your challenge, or rather deception. When we return to the dropship, you will consider yourself under arrest. I have had enough of your cowardice.”

“I think not.”

Pershaw relied too much on the warrior’s code. Karl, on the other hand thought only on the final objective, winning. He raised his hand and the laser pulsed once. The rest of his group joined in and Otho crumpled under the barrage.

“Fallen in battle,” said Karl, looking at each of the rest of the Elementals with him in turn, “right?”

There was a muffled agreement and Karl pointed his laser at Pershaw’s head, the reticule flicked active and he smiled evilly.

*

thatjimboguy
BTU Rank
BTU Rank
Posts: 2078
Joined: Tue Mar 25, 2008 1:01 am
Location: Detroit, MI
Contact:

Post by thatjimboguy » Fri May 15, 2009 8:35 pm

That's some good fanfic. Good job.
"Win if you can. Lose if you must, but always cheat" - Jesse "The Body" Ventura

Rayo Azul
BTU Rank
BTU Rank
Posts: 1071
Joined: Thu May 14, 2009 3:31 pm
Location: Madrid, Spain
Contact:

Post by Rayo Azul » Sun May 17, 2009 9:52 am

Sheehan thought that his day could not get any worse. That was until his retro’s failed, followed by the tearing sound of the canopy above him. His escape trajectory was cut short and he plummeted earthward. A sound blocked out the roaring of the air as it tore past him and he realised that it was his own involuntary scream.

*
Otho stared at the laser pointed into his faceplate and forced down the acrid taste of fear in his mouth. So this was what the Clans had come to. Their internecine war would rip them apart and, not for the first time, he challenged his leaders’ manic determination for victory.

He watched the reflection of his own image stare back at him and his neck muscles tensed. Then all went black.

*
Cracking open the exit port, Sheehan half-stumbled, half-fell out of the now vile smelling cockpit. Their was the sweet smell of vomit, tinged with that of burnt flesh. His own, he was sure. He forced himself to poke his head back into the craft and pulled out the backpack, containing the standard survival kit. As well as this he unclipped the laser pistol from its fixings on the wall and buckled on the belt and holster.

It was only then that he began an investigation of the surrounding area and what he saw brought him up short. It appeared that their had been a battle here, or at least a fight of some sort, which his arrival seemed to have curtailed.

Miraculously the escape pod had ended up in a sparsely tree-lined grove, finally coming to rest against an enormous rock. There were one or two mangled bodies to be seen, obviously the result of his precipitous arrival, but here and there he saw the evidence of a vicious encounter. To one side, an armoured form lay sprawled, thick black liquid bubbling from the cracked ceramic. Nearby was a corpse, covered in the same material, yet crushed and broken. It was like one of the scenes from an old Trivid movie, depicting some historical battle.

Gingerly he stepped round and through the remains of the men and approached the edge of the grove. He heard the muted sound of laser fire receding into the distance. A low moan wafted from beneath a pile of snapped branches and he hastily drew his combat knife. Al poked aside the splintered vegetation and revealed a huge man, dressed in the strange armour he had seen in the grove. Sheehan prodded the man with the end of the blade and was rewarded with a groan.

Jumping backwards, he drew his laser pistol, transferring the knife to his left hand.

“W-w-where am I?” asked the individual in a dazed fashion.

“That’s exactly what I was going to ask you,” replied Sheehan, watching as the man struggled to his feet, holding one hand against the fresh looking wound in his side. He saw him scan the underbrush, probably looking for a weapon of some sort.

“Enough of that!” snapped Sheehan, waving his pistol for effect.

To his surprise, the man seemed more concerned about what might be hidden in the surrounding vegetation than his pistol. The giant shape tensed as though about to attack. Sheehan quickly snapped off a shot, which whistled past the man’s ear, causing him to drop onto one knee and bow his head.

“Forgive me,” he said, “I meant no dishonour.”

“Dishonour?”

“You not only beat my enemy, but have also spared me. You have every right to expect me to accept the role as your Bondsman.”

Sheehan stared at the enormous bulk of the man. Who was he and what the frak was a Bondsman?
Last edited by Rayo Azul on Thu Nov 11, 2010 4:40 pm, edited 2 times in total.

thatjimboguy
BTU Rank
BTU Rank
Posts: 2078
Joined: Tue Mar 25, 2008 1:01 am
Location: Detroit, MI
Contact:

Post by thatjimboguy » Sun May 17, 2009 10:23 am

Not that I'm not enjoying getting the story for free...

But have you thought about submitting some of this stuff to CBT and getting paid for it? It seems to be of publishable quality to me.

Granted, I'm not exactly an editor of a publishing company, but I seem to remember paying for fiction that was lower quality than this.

Just a thought...
"Win if you can. Lose if you must, but always cheat" - Jesse "The Body" Ventura

Rayo Azul
BTU Rank
BTU Rank
Posts: 1071
Joined: Thu May 14, 2009 3:31 pm
Location: Madrid, Spain
Contact:

Post by Rayo Azul » Sun May 17, 2009 10:30 am

How do you do that?

In the meantime, glad to see that you're enjoying it.

Cheers

Rayo

shalom itay
BTU Rank
BTU Rank
Posts: 2293
Joined: Sun Sep 07, 2003 4:23 am
Location: Israel

Post by shalom itay » Sun May 17, 2009 12:22 pm

There are still many questions to be answered...

Rayo Azul
BTU Rank
BTU Rank
Posts: 1071
Joined: Thu May 14, 2009 3:31 pm
Location: Madrid, Spain
Contact:

Post by Rayo Azul » Sun May 17, 2009 12:50 pm

Chapter Two

Jax finally crawled back into reality and the boot planted firmly into his ribs helped.

“Get up, Freebirth!”

He saw the glowering countenance of the Clansman. Another Elemental, yet not his captor.

“You are mine now. The Khan gave me the pick of the Bondsman captured on your pitiful world and I chose you.”

“What about …ugh”

A fist crashed against the side of his face and span him across the room.

“Speak when you are spoken to, not before. The pitiful excuse for a Clansman called Otho Pershaw, lies rotting on the planet below. I am all that is left of his Sibko and for some reason he saw something in you. Together we are going to find out what it was. For now though …”

Once more he was beaten into submission, the powerful blows only stopping when a curt command cut the air. He could not hear what were the murmured words used, his head rang. Whatever was said, he was grateful, the punishing blows had finished.

Something cool was placed against his forehead and hands helped him into a sitting position.

“Don’t try to speak.” The voice was female, yet had a deep mannish quality and a strong arm drew him up.

“I have stopped that surat from administering his form of questioning for now. If Otho thought you worth the effort, then so do I.”

His vision swam. The woman appeared twice his size and the smile on her face looked as though it was unaccustomed to sitting there.

“Where am I?”

“You’re on our dropship. We’re jumping to our next target and we need to get you somewhere safe.”

“Why?”

Strident alarms blared and the grin reappeared.

“No time for that now, we’re about to jump. If you’ve never been off-world you’re not going to like this.”

His stomach heaved and he turned a strange shade of green. For some reason, he did not want to vomit all over his would-be saviour’s boots. The problem was, he had no choice in the matter.

*

The second jump was not quite so bad, the third even better and Jax surprised himself with his own resilience. Elana, the female Elemental had visited him again and he was now installed in what he assumed were her quarters. Everything was oversized, chairs formed to hold her titanic frame and Jax felt like a weak and frightened child.

There had been rumours about the Clans and their incursions. It had all seemed so far away though. Now he was experiencing it first hand and he was unsure how to react. Otho Pershaw had, relatively speaking, been kind to him as had Elana. Gunther, his original tormentor, had been obviously upset with him. Jax still did not know why.

The door whooshed upwards and he stared into the face of an older man, slighter in frame than Elana who had let him enter first. He wore a clean pressed uniform, which sported twin silver emblems on his shirt lapels. Power radiated from him and Jax jumped to his feet.

“Ah,” he said, “this is our guest.”

“Yes, my Khan,” rumbled Elana, “what do you wish me to do with him?”

“Close the door and I will tell you.”

As the barrier dropped down, the Khan stared at Jax. He saw a man of medium height, dwarfed by the surroundings and his own fear. Yes, this one would do very nicely.

*

Sheehan stared over the smoking remains of his lance. The Mechs which had so proudly formed up in defiance of the invaders, were now nothing more than scrap. He heard the heavy footfall of the man behind him and turned.

“Are you happy with what you have done?”

Otho looked puzzled and Sheehan realised that he could see nothing wrong with this destruction.

“All this gone.”

“We broadcasted our arrival and invited you to bid against us. All that we received was silence and so we landed. Minimal force was used.”

“This is minimal force?” Sheehan was astounded.

Otho nodded. Their had been no planetary bombardment, the Kahn had seen to that. What they had not expected was the pitifully prepared Inner Sphere forces and their suicidal tactics.

“That is of no consequence. Where do we go now?”

Al shook off the urge to slap the giant. He was right. It was vital that he get this man and his armour back to Headquarters. If they were to stand any chance against the Clansmen, they needed new weapons, and soon. It was inconceivable to one such as he that what was, to all intents and purposes, a mini-Mech stood before him.

“Follow me.”

Otho watched him trudge away and then followed. If this was his new Clan, they would need his help. Even the youngest of one of the Clan’s sibko’s could have beaten them. For a moment he thought of the Bondsman he had sent to the dropship, then he dismissed any regrets. He too was a prize of war and his objective must be to regain his standing as a warrior and ultimately his rank and privilege. With a grin he marched after Sheehan, at least it would be easier than the last time.

Batminimus
BTU Rank
BTU Rank
Posts: 522
Joined: Mon Jul 03, 2006 9:50 pm
Location: Tasmania, Australia (the sticks)

Post by Batminimus » Sun May 17, 2009 1:14 pm

Wonderfull, just finished printing out chapter one and the start of chapter two has appeared, (a slow night a work just hit 3:15 AM and they are all still asleep, thats the patients. Night shift can but very slow sometimes) more to read, please keep it coming great story so far.
"Eripio sumptus"
English translation
"Rescuing costs "

Rayo Azul
BTU Rank
BTU Rank
Posts: 1071
Joined: Thu May 14, 2009 3:31 pm
Location: Madrid, Spain
Contact:

Post by Rayo Azul » Sun May 17, 2009 1:31 pm

No worries mate. More coming soon. Thanks for the encouragement.

Cheers

Rayo

Rayo Azul
BTU Rank
BTU Rank
Posts: 1071
Joined: Thu May 14, 2009 3:31 pm
Location: Madrid, Spain
Contact:

Post by Rayo Azul » Sun May 17, 2009 2:33 pm

*

“Who are they?”

Sheehan grunted and studied the men below them. They were picking their way through the remains of the Mechs. Every now and then they stopped to study something. A cry would go up and others would run to the scene of interest. He saw a group of them man-handle what looked like a metallic arm and then sounds of excited laughter floated up to him. There was a single shot and a growl began deep in his throat.

“Looters!”

“Who?”

“Scum, who would take advantage of the fallen. They are removing what they can and will sell it to the highest bidder.”

Otho thought for a moment and then anger flashed in his eyes.

“And the shot?”

“They found someone. Witnesses to their acts won’t be left alive.”

Surveying the destruction, Sheehan realised that it was more likely to have been one of his men than a Clansman.

“Come on,” he said, “time to teach them a little respect.”

In spite of his predicament, Otho liked this little man. The numbers were vastly in the looters favour but he had not thought twice about what was right. Perhaps those from the Inner Sphere were not as he had been told at all.

*

Flames lightened the darkness as Sheehan and Otho made their way towards the looters campsite. Anger had been replaced by a cold determination.

“Things would be more even, if only your armour still worked,” said Sheehan in a barely audible whisper.

“Of course it still works.”

Sheehan stopped, his pistol now pointing towards Otho.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“There was no need. I am your Bondsman.” The statement held subtle connotations beyond Sheehan’s understanding and his “of course” made Otho smile.

"Shall we?” asked the big man, activating his targeting reticule.

*

A red beam pulsed from the dark, melting the pot held in one of the looter’s hands. Then, as they scrambled for their weapons, a huge form loomed. Otho fired indiscriminately. None of these men deserved to live. Sheehan had been specific. His enhanced senses heard his companion’s movement and then his covering fire began again. With a sweep of one of his armoured legs, Otho kicked a looter into the fire. His screams added to the nightmare scene and like a huge avenging angel Otho dealt justice.

When it was all over, Otho stood by Sheehan and contemplated the shattered bodies. The tech they had recovered was all Inner Sphere material.

“Looks like your guys got off easy,” said Sheehan in disgust.

“No we didn’t,” said Otho. The huge hand he laid on Sheehan’s shoulder almost knocking him to the floor.

Rayo Azul
BTU Rank
BTU Rank
Posts: 1071
Joined: Thu May 14, 2009 3:31 pm
Location: Madrid, Spain
Contact:

Post by Rayo Azul » Sun May 17, 2009 5:42 pm

More to come soon and I will be posting the story first on here.

Cheers

Rayo

Rayo Azul
BTU Rank
BTU Rank
Posts: 1071
Joined: Thu May 14, 2009 3:31 pm
Location: Madrid, Spain
Contact:

Post by Rayo Azul » Mon May 18, 2009 5:13 am

*

“Wait.”

Sheehan stopped. Otho pulled him back into cover and he strained to see what was the problem. He heard it first. The distinctive sound of a Mech’s tread became louder as it approached. Soon, he could see the bulk of the machine’s legs through the foliage.

“A Summoner, it looks as though the battle is over.”

Al watched it stride majestically past and once he felt safe, moved forward once more. They were on a slight ridge which overlooked the familiar shape of the base. He could see other Mech’s as they patrolled the outskirts of the camp. With Otho’s assisted vision, and the aid of the field glasses in his emergency pack, Sheehan confirmed the Elemental’s original comment.

Groups of men were being herded towards a fenced area by large men in power armour. Vehicles dashed in and out of the Base compound with constant frequency, avoiding the larger Omnimechs as best they could.

“There don’t seem to be many of them,” commented Sheehan as he swept the glasses across the area.

“No,” Otho replied, “the majority of the warriors will have left for the next target. This is merely a garrison, a solhama unit, left to consolidate our victory.”

“Sorry?”, Sheehan was confused. These Mech’s did not seem worthy of the derision in Otho’s force.

“This is not a front-line unit. It shows the contempt in which they hold the forces of this world.”

“Contempt or not, we need more information on them and on who they have detained down there. On our own we will be no match for them. Listen, I have an idea.”

*

The ground car driver was in a hurry. He had been given orders to reach one of the outlying units by his superior officer and had been delayed whilst the man had made sure he understood. Just because he was part of the Tech caste, did not mean he was stupid. That attitude, however, was common amongst the Warrior caste. In order to save more time, he had brought his breakfast with him and he took a swig from his thermos of water.

Afterwards, he would claim that he had only taken his eyes off the road for a moment, but it was enough. An Elemental had appeared in the road and he desperately tried to avoid him. He wrenched the wheel savagely and slammed on the brakes. There was the sound of metal against metal and his vehicle left the road, coming to a halt after it had bounced off a tree trunk.

“Effective, but messy,” commented Sheehan as he emerged from the sparse cover.

A groan from the cabin assured him that the driver was still alive and he worked quickly. One sharp tap from the butt of his pistol made certain that the man was taken care of. Rapidly, he searched both the unconscious figure and the ground car. He stripped the driver of his clothes and had Otho manhandle the vehicle back onto the road. The dent from the impact against the tree was obvious, but Sheehan thought that if they waited for dark, he would at least have a chance of passing un-noticed.

They discussed his plan in detail and although Otho was not in total agreement, he had to admit that he had no better idea. With the driver bound and comfortable, they sat down to wait for nightfall.

Rayo Azul
BTU Rank
BTU Rank
Posts: 1071
Joined: Thu May 14, 2009 3:31 pm
Location: Madrid, Spain
Contact:

Post by Rayo Azul » Mon May 18, 2009 9:34 am

Chapter Three

There was little security in place and the invaders arrogance showed. Sheehan faced a perfunctory questioning and then was allowed free access. He knew that Otho was making his own way inside and he still held some reservation about what the Elemental would do. That though, was the least of his worries.

The car trundled to a stop and he opened the door. His exit was near to the compound and lights illuminated the huddled prisoners. A token guard stood by the chained entrance and he wandered over. At least none of the men in power armour were on show. Now would come the hard part. Al let the weight of his improvised cosh drop the weapon into his hand and sauntered over.

*

Otho used the shadows to his best advantage. He had found the approach too easy and pondered on the difference between real warriors and these Garrison troops. It was certain that their escapade this evening would change the Clansmen’s thinking on security. A grin of anticipation crossed his face and as the first guard passed him, he struck. One meaty arm dropped and the guard fell soundlessly to the floor.

The Elemental entered the compound. He moved away from where he knew Sheehan would be at work, and instead made his way towards the barracks. They needed a little time and a huge amount of luck, if they were to pull this off. Fortune favoured him and he reached his new cover unopposed. To one side was the fuel dump and with a swift decision he changed his plan.

As he heard the alarm raised, he acted. Precise shots from his laser melted the locks to the main doors. He turned and targeted the grouped barrels, the red-hot beam igniting the fuel. Explosions rent the night, but Otho had already moved on. No matter how poor these men were, the Mechs would make a huge difference.

*

Sheehan smashed the metal bar against the guard’s head with little regard for the outcome. As the guard fell, he raced towards the main gate. It was then his luck ran out. He stumbled on a loose piece of rock, the cosh sailing from his hand. It struck with a ringing sound against one of the metal stanchions and there was a cry of challenge. Al recovered his weapon and waited.

There was the sound of running feet and as the curious guard passed him, he delivered a mighty blow. His rifle fell to the floor and discharged. Instantly alarms blared into life. He grasped the rifle, assuring himself of its function and aimed it at the lock in front of him. A short burst shattered the chains and he shouted down the raised voices.

“Move!” he screamed and was rewarded with an avalanche of bodies. He grabbed the first one to pass close by and directed him towards the prone figure of his first victim. It was then that the exploding fuel lit up the night sky.

“So much for a quiet stroll in the night,” he muttered, as the brilliant beams of lasers began to slice through the darkness.

*

Flaco
BTU Rank
BTU Rank
Posts: 267
Joined: Tue Jan 20, 2009 7:54 pm

Post by Flaco » Mon May 18, 2009 10:22 am

Wow, You have to post more,this is the best Invasion-era story I have read
Life is like playing a card game. Its not whether you get the best hand, its whether or not you play the worst hand well.

Batminimus
BTU Rank
BTU Rank
Posts: 522
Joined: Mon Jul 03, 2006 9:50 pm
Location: Tasmania, Australia (the sticks)

Post by Batminimus » Mon May 18, 2009 11:43 am

This is just Great, another night shift and a good story to read, if people stop messing in their beds :x and ringing their call bells, its night time and they should all be a sleep. :shock:

that's better, had a rant, now please continue with your story thank you....
"Eripio sumptus"
English translation
"Rescuing costs "

Rayo Azul
BTU Rank
BTU Rank
Posts: 1071
Joined: Thu May 14, 2009 3:31 pm
Location: Madrid, Spain
Contact:

Post by Rayo Azul » Mon May 18, 2009 2:16 pm

Thanks to all of you 8)

I'll try and keep posting as often as I can. :wink:

Cheers

Rayo

Rayo Azul
BTU Rank
BTU Rank
Posts: 1071
Joined: Thu May 14, 2009 3:31 pm
Location: Madrid, Spain
Contact:

Post by Rayo Azul » Mon May 18, 2009 4:00 pm

Next part up...

*

He could hear the hammer of armour against the doors and knew he had little time. Getting out of the windows would be a problem for them, but they could always create their own exits. Otho strode away, his objective clear. It was not one he had discussed with Sheehan, but it was necessary.

His passing was ignored by the soldiers who were running about the area. Why would they question one dressed as he and with his emblem still proudly displayed on his armour? Rounding a corner, he saw what he wanted and increased his speed. Two swift kicks opened the required door and he saw the objects of his search cowering in one corner.

“Come with me,” he said, not waiting to see if they followed. Their caste was so used to following orders that they scrambled after him. He would need their support and soon. Quickly he sent them to gather what he needed and waited impatiently for their return. It was just as they reappeared, that the barrack wall exploded in a shower of rock and dust.

“Wait here.”

Otho felt the adrenaline kick in and marched across to meet the trio of Elementals who stood ready to burst into action.

*

“Where the frak is he?”

Sheehan expected no answer. The prisoners had disappeared into the lurid glare cast by the now burning fuel. He twitched nervously at every sound and almost emptied a clip of ammunition into the two men who appeared suddenly.

“Who are you and why did you break us out?”

They were clearly military. Their uniforms rent and dishevelled announced their former occupation.

“Captain Al Sheehan, Mechwarrior. I thought you could do with a hand …”

Further conversation was cut short as he saw Otho and then the three Elementals facing him.

“I think that now is not the time for introductions,” he said, as he checked his ammunition, “Make your way to the hills and with a little bit of luck, we’ll see you there.”

Major Harry Bourne watched the self-proclaimed Captain race away. His eyes widened when he saw where he went and with a shake of his head, he turned away. This Sheehan was either extremely brave or just plain stupid. Right now, he thought, he was leaning towards the latter.

*

Otho stopped and began to draw in the earth with his foot. He scraped a rough circle and called one of his appropriated techs to him. The man helped him remove his armour, placing it carefully to one side. The big man stretched his arms wide and drew in a deep breath.

“I am Otho Pershaw,” he said, “ and I challenge each and everyone of you to prove the right of my cause here within this circle.”

Silence greeted him and he heard Sheehan arrive, his breath laboured from his run.

“What do you think you are doing!”

“Making sure we get away.”

“How?” Sheehan almost screamed in exasperation.

“When they fall, none will prevent us. It is our way.”

Al looked back as the three giants began to remove their armour.


“Three of them?”
“You think it not enough? I can ask them to bring some more of their friends.”

Sheehan cursed and Otho laughed.

“Wait over there with the Technicians and make sure they have our things stowed on the groundcar. This won’t take a second.”

*

The moment the first of his opponents entered the circle, Otho leapt into action. His front foot lanced out, smashing into the man’s leading knee. There was a crunch and an audible pop as the joint gave. He followed with a swift kick to the temple and there were only two.

They were wary now. His speed was obvious and he claimed a Bloodname. Otho Pershaw was well known amongst his Clan and especially within the Elementals. Perhaps his own Clan looked down on their huge brothers, but Pershaw had earned his name and his rights in the circle of combat. Underestimation could be a fatal flaw.

Both rushed him at the same time. He flicked out his left foot which caused a moment’s hesitation in one of them, then as soon as it touched the floor, he transferred his weight and delivered a vicious back-kick into the sternum of the other. There was a grunt of pain, but it was still not over.

Spinning he smashed the back of his fist into his first attacker’s face and followed it up with a punch to the throat. The man dropped to the floor, choking. His second attacker had just risen to his feet when Otho slammed his elbow into his unprotected face. Blood spurted and the half-cry was cut short by a crushing blow to the back of the neck below him.

Otho looked around in anticipation. Men had gathered to watch, but the strict code of the Clans held sway.

“Get my things loaded up,” he snarled and the Tech’s rushed to obey.

Al watched him as he stood over his victims. With a disgusted shake of his head he discarded two of them, before he approached the one still gasping for air. He roughly grasped him by the back of his collar and dragged him to the car.

“What are you doing?” he said to the Techs who trembled by the vehicle. “I said get my things in the car and I meant all of them.”

They followed his pointing finger to the discarded armour and rushed to obey. When it was all loaded, he merely raised one eyebrow and they jumped inside too.

“Shall we go?” he asked.

“Sure you don’t want to challenge a Mech?” Sheehan said, tounge-in-cheek.

“Not today …”

Rayo Azul
BTU Rank
BTU Rank
Posts: 1071
Joined: Thu May 14, 2009 3:31 pm
Location: Madrid, Spain
Contact:

Post by Rayo Azul » Tue May 19, 2009 4:16 am

Anybody guessed which Clan it is yet? Or which world and timeline? :lol:

Cheers

Rayo