Outer Coordinate
Labrea System
Third Quarter, 3062
"Are you sure? I am really having my doubts over here." Myomer Tech Ryan Allen said.
"Of course I'm sure! Who do ya think you're talking to here?" shouted Head Tech Rocky Potts.
It had been a long afternoon for the two techs, working as fast as they could to provide a few
short term upgrades to Ryan's 70 ton Infighter BattleMech. So far the only thing they had
accomplished was getting each other angry. Ryan knew that the Mech's freshly replaced
myomer musculature would do nothing in the way of improvements for the left arm's primary
weapon, a melee-class mace. Unfortunately Rocky knew that this was just what his creation had
been lacking, Clan tech myomer upgrades from the Strider's Strikers most recent salvage.
Rocky had designed the Mech, based on a heavily modified Charger chassis, to contain his
crowning achievement. That achievement was the ThunderClap-20. This weapon, containing an
infrasonic cylinder source encased in circular magnetic housing, was what gave the Infighter its
tenacious, close-combat superiority. The magnetic housing propelled the cylinder just above and
below the speed of sound, producing hundreds of infrasonic waves that could vibrate through the
stubbornest armor to harm the internals of any BattleMech. Ryan had volunteered to pilot the
Mech in its test run 2 years ago, falling in love with the ThunderClap's sonic "booms". At the
moment, the ThunderClap-20 was being ignored in hopes of upgrading other weapons the
Infighter carried.
"This is crazy. We know they are coming, why don't we send another damn lance?" Ryan
complained. The commanders had decided that only 6 Mechs would engage the 2 Word of
Blake lances now approaching the Strikers' dropship.
"I don't know, but you betta be ready for them yourself, you hear?" Rocky jabbered. Exhaling
noisly, Ryan opened his mouth to stutter out,
"Yeah, yeah, yeah..."
Two hours later the Infigher was baking inside a metal storage bin, powered down and ready for
a cold start at any moment. Ryan was nervous; he had always hated the anticipation of battle.
The sun had been warming the storage bin for most of the afternoon, and Ryan was not enjoying
the prolonged high temperatures. If he'd had his way, this battle would have been over with by
now. But no, Lance Commander Sasha Breen of Clan Steel Viper (this mission's commander)
was too tactical for that. She had decided the 6 mechs would set a trap for the Word of Blake
lances as they entered the city. Stop it. The enemy would soon be in his reach...
Sulking over the warm sand, Purifier scout Adept Melissa Fox pushed her 25 ton Nexus warily
on in an approach to the city's outer edge. She had been regretting her scouting duty all day,
knowing she would take the first hit when her traitorous teammates were much more deserving
of the initial attack that would soon strike her Mech. But now was not a time for complaining,
the enemy was close and she could feel it in her blood. The only thing left to do now was fight,
die, or surrender. She took a glance at her rear scanners and noticed Adept Duwong's 90 ton
Viking charging forward while Jon Stegron's Atlas seemed to be catching up to her own Mech.
That bastard is probably trying to show off for me again. Melissa shook her head.
Suddenly Melissa could see a 30 ton enemy Spider in front of her. She almost cried out,
noticing it powered down behind the building off to her right. Now she realized it wasn't
powering up, and that she hadn't given warning to any of her teammates yet. Making one of the
biggest decisions of her life, she decided not to warn her lancemates. Though it was possibly
unpiloted and not a threat to her team, she knew it was most likely part of a trap employed by
the enemy, Strider's Strikers. She hated her Purifier position so badly she desperately wanted to
be killed, rescued, or taken prisoner by someone other than the Toyama faction of Word of
Blake. If only she could find Sir Owen whom she had met on Gibson. She was certain he
would help her to get away from all of these Blakist extremists.
Jon Stegron was finally getting used to his new Atlas. A promotion for his command in a
successful invasion of a Wasat city back in Marik space, his BattleMech was 100 tons of
firepower. A large bore autocannon sat just meters below his cockpit, housed in the stomach of
the behemoth. An array of medium class lasers and an SRM 6 provided additional medium to
short range punch, while an LRM 20 rounded off as his only longe range weapon. Dwelling on
this engineering flaw, Jon was shocked when his IR scanner flashed an image directly in front of
him. Looking at his visual screen, Jon halted the Atlas in its tracks as an unknown BattleMech
appeared from the storage bin just meters from his own Atlas. Grinning wide, Jon raised his
Mech's arms to meet the new threat.
Ryan Allen rushed through the soft metal door of the grain silo to come face to face with a 100
ton Atlas assault Mech. His face flushed white with surprise and unexpected fear. Ryan quickly
swung his Mech's mace to meet the threat. Missing just centimeters from the Atlas's right torso,
Ryan quickly struggled for balance to counter the massive mace's momentum. Bringing his
Infighter back into a kick that shuddered the Atlas's right leg under several tons of force, Ryan
managed a laugh as his machine stepped back from the 100 ton monster. The Atlas began
struggling for balance, and raised its arms out to its sides in an effort to keep from falling over.
Then Ryan let loose with his small lasers, throwing in little firepower but adding to the Atlas
pilot's confusion. Flipping his safety off and setting sights on the enemy's silhouette, Ryan
triggered his primary weapon, the ThunderClap-20.
Jon Stegron was cursing aloud inside his cockpit as his Mech fought against gravity. The freak
Mech before him was teeming with physical movements, forcing Jon to dodge its giant
hammer-like mace only to be kicked by its huge leg. Then the enemy became foolish, firing small
harmless lasers and even missing with one of them. Jon smiled as he regained his balance. Now
it was his turn.
Raising his Mech's arms once again, Jon began to tremble inside his cockpit. His visual screen
shattered in front of him, knocking glass to his body and piercing into his bare legs. Wincing, he
let off the weapons joystick and covered his eyes as his cockpit's computers failed and flashed
with sparks. A resounding thump could be felt in his neurohelmet, and then it was all over.
Jon didn't feel the vibrations for long. His autoeject had determined the problem and served him
as best it could by propelling him into the air, just seconds before his entire Mech was engulfed
from the fireball emerging from its left torso. Now he was flying over the wreckage, guiding his
parachute as best he could considering the wounds inflicted on his bare legs. The ammunition
had detonated inside his Mech, Jon finally decided. This would be the last time he would pilot a
Mech without Cellular Ammunition Storage Equipment, or CASE. The protective CASE would
have blown the ammunition harmlessly away from the rest of his Mech, only destroying his left
torso in the explosion. However, his whole Mech had been destroyed instead. Suddenly Jon
realized something as he looked past his throbing legs to the wreckage below.
How the hell did he get through my armor?
