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Trapped In A Wolves' Den

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#1 Aranzor

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Posted 25 February 2015 - 09:56 AM

This is a side story I had that popped up last night. It does rely on getting suggestions from the readers, however, so please feel free to post comments and especially ideas for what might happen next!





Galuzzo, Wolf Occupation Zone
24 February 3052
0:24 Local Time

Searing heat cut against Colton's scalp as he slowly woke, his breathing struggling as his fingertips found his forehead. Hard, jagged edges answered each touch along the ridge over his right eyebrow, his fingers growing wetter by the moment with each piece of ferroglass he pulled away. His eyes at last started to open as his consciousness rose, wincing as the blood dripped in from above. His mind first fled from the realization of what he'd been through, trying to find solace in the momentary happiness that came from discovering that he still had full function of every body part. It did not last long. His left leg by now was shuddering with agony, nerves at last recognizing how tightly they were pinched in against his Dragon's console. His left hand remained clenched tightly about controls, as it had been from before he had passed out. The controls were obviously long dead, but still he could not move release his grip. It was as though he still could not grasp what exactly had happened. Or how quickly had happened. The reserve company that lay around him had been the last remaining forces on the planet.

And they had not even lasted long enough to assist those evacuating.

It had all gone to a horror show too quickly. From the Union-Class Dropship Violet Tempest being obliterated after having taken on civilians, to his lance being unable to even form up properly before being cut down by withering fire from all around. After so many successful ambushes against them, the Wolves had seemed quite eager to try one of their own. Only now was the sickness of realization starting to sink in. There was no going home. No chance to explain to his Major for deserting the Blackthornes Dragoons to fight along the Clan front. No seeing his home of Savannah, or his family he'd left behind in the search for his chance to be a hero.

Some difference he'd made.

His right eye closed now as the wound above it began to drip more freely now that the glass that stemmed the tide had been removed. Giving up that effort in futility, his right hand crossed over to his left to pry it loose. He had to pull up each fingertip individually before his hand would slip free at last. Thankfully, after a more than a few minutes of concerned-flexing, pin needles could be felt spreading from the palm outward. The aching began, but it at least meant he would be able to use both hands for the next steps. Laying back against the command couch, he realized he was still trying to catch his breath from the exertion. It was not a good sign was to feel this weak so easily. He must have lost a lot of blood. More than a simple gash should have allowed. He had been in what had amounted to a head-on collision afterall, since his Dragon had taken a nose dive at full speed as his feet were ripped out from under him. The fact he had not died on impact had to be some sort of miracle.

A miracle...right.

Soon his breathing began to slow controllable levels. Colton prepared him for the next and most difficult step: prying himself free. The left half of the console had taken the worst of the damage. It had caved in completely when the mech struck the ground, listing into that side when the gyro ruptured from deep within, probably in a vain effort compensate for the sudden and severe damage inflicted. With no other support in reach, Colton found his only option was to wrap his arms around the back of his head-rest, growling and seething with pain as he slowly pulled his pinned leg from the wreckage. He succeeded somewhat, much to his surprise. Only his foot remained held tight, its position causing too great a pain to turn to pull the rest of the way. A few more deep breaths. His right leg now poised on the remainder of the dead console above as he worked up the strength and will for the last part. A sharp kick with everything he could muster, followed by an agonized cry that would echo around the quiet about the cockpit. He was free at last.

At least as free as one can be with a broken ankle.

It surprised him how short-lived the pain was before giving over to numbness. Then again, maybe he was still just too overcome to recognize the pain anymore. Rolling over the left-arm control, Colton was again reminded of his condition as he crashed to the ground. He had thought his foot numb before, but hitting it has sent a spike through his spine faster than he'd been prepared, his body seizing up as his eyes widened and he even stopped thinking for a moment. The scream had lumped up in his throat, unable to escape, yet still blocking any chance for more air. Eventually he would muster out the gasp that remained of it, air once more returning to his lungs and even renewing his energy to continue. He would drag himself slowly and carefully toward the rear of the couch, seeking out the med kit secured against it. Hopefully he could find enough to patch himself. A small pair of splints, gauze wrapping and plenty of medication! Something to be thankful for in this hell!

Trapped on a planet with no hope of extraction or support. His head now bandaged and wrapped, he could hear little but the thumping of his heart in his ears resounded methodically as he continued his work to secure his ankle. No, not of his heart. Something far bigger, moving with a steady rhythm nearby and closing in on him. Reaching up, Colton removed the pistol from its holster on the side of the couch. It was likely quite useless against whatever was out there, but it gave him at least some sense of security. His eyes squinted into the darkness as he peered out, straining his eyes to see through the shattered ferroglass and into the night for any sign of what was out there.

Flicking in and about the various bodies lit with fire, like jackals among corpses, two large forms bounded about. They moved methodically from one shattered remains to the next. The first stopped now before a hulk that had once been a Battlemaster, looking down over it as if to consider the destruction wrought. A flash of light illuminated suddenly from its sides and torso, revealing its birdlike, almost fragile frame as it poured every laser it had into the Battlemaster's already lifeless form. This force had wrecked his team before they'd even taken to their positions and now were picking the bones! A part of him knew it was simply a military detail being thorough to prevent surprises, but it still seemed so much the insult to the dead around. He needed to get out before they got to him, either to salvage his mech or finish the job! And yet he held fast behind the couch. His eyes gazed to the pyre now so brightly lit as the birdlike mech sought out its next corpse. All that power, from just one of these monsters!

Just...one...

No sooner had he thought this than he'd realized he had lost track of the other mech. Instincts flashing, sending him scrambling for the hatchway long before he could put the fear into words even within his own mind. Another minor miracle he had neither the time or the thought to appreciate as the door came free without jamming, spilling him out into the dark world about him moments before searing heat licked over his back. The second mech had found the remnants of his beloved Dragon and callously passed its judgement. Flames and heat all about him, Colton searched desperately for some place to escape the rising inferno. He had expended all of his ammunition before he'd fallen, but others were not nearly so lucky. Already he could hear the explosions of ammunition going off all about him, the chaos growing with each font from these two vultures. Forced low to avoid flame and take the pressure off his ankle, he'd half-run/half-stumble from the battlefield as fast as he could manage. His ankle decried its abuse, only to be ignored by his will to survive. His hands and feet soon found nothing beneath them but air, as he'd fall head-over-heels down a steep decline, landing hard enough to knock the wind out from him.

That was all it had taken. Though air soon returned to his lungs, Colton found he could not bring himself to rise further to continue his escape. His hands could flex but his arms were just to heavy to rise. His legs could have easily been replaced with cement lumps for all they were worth. His eyes began to adjust once more back to the darkness as he lay there. Away from the roar and light of the pyres that had been his hell, he now gazed up into starry sky he didn't recognize. A land alien to his home around him. Even the dirt about him felt so different, completely dry and yet it felt like a malleable slush, like hunks of mud or clay. At least it was soft...Soft enough for him to close his eyes once more and let the heaviness of his exhaustion seep further and further in.

Soon only his mind was left to struggle to keep the pace. Reinforcements were coming. The best of the Inner Sphere had mobilized to stem the tide of these invaders. Just when these forces would come, he had no idea, but they had to be on their way. These Wolves would be patrolling soon, trying to pick up any stragglers they could find. Colton hoped desperately that he could find the strength to move before any located him. It would be difficult with his injury to hold out for long in the wild, but he wasn't about to be taken prisoner! He simply...needed...to...

#2 Bill Bullet

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Posted 04 April 2015 - 07:13 AM

This was a great read! Is there any more?

#3 Aranzor

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Posted 28 July 2015 - 08:18 AM

Sorry for never responding! I really do intend to continue this story, but got a bit sidetracked by real life pulling me away from both writing and a lot of my usual game time.

He does survive for certain, though just barely. I have parts of the story written but keep changing it because I can't decide who should find him.

I might just have to go to a flip of the coin!

#4 Aranzor

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Posted 16 September 2015 - 05:25 AM

Seven Months Later....

Urseinova, Emris IV of Free Worlds League
7 September 3052
06:00 Local TIme


Sasha Sidorov immediately noticed the strange silence emanating throughout the building as she entered. Without the constant noise of tourists shuffling about from one exhibit to the next, the entirety of the museum felt foreboding in a away only a tomb could manage. Even something as soft as a sigh from her own lips carried about main entrance way, reverberating from column to column until it found its way into the halls further inside. Even seconds later she could swear she could hear the remnants of the sound as it desperately tried to complete the distance.

Each footfall that she took announced her arrival as she made her way further into the main hall, looking for her employer. Until now he'd taken very little notice of her at all. It was just as well, as she hated the idea of working for a Lyran. Her only orders had been to protect the captain he'd managed to 'procure' from a Free Worlds League 'black site.' This captain, or "Mr. Fisher" as he was now called, had apparently managed to embarrass some official within the government enough for the Mariks to hide him away in one of their prisons that wasn't supposed to exist in such an 'upright' society. He should have been dead within the first week had it not been for her own doing. Still, she had to admit to herself that that was also the only reason why she was free now, granted she still could never return home.

Pulling herself from her own thoughts, she glanced around her from one exhibit to the next, trying to locate just where her employer was hiding. Was he expecting her to find him? This Lyran's constant puzzles and games were truly infuriating! At times he showed the cunning and daring that she'd expect to come from Lyran Intelligence Corps, perhaps even Loki itself. Then there were times like this, where she reminded him more of a child playing pranks on people attempting to do real work...

The thought of his childish antics sent a moment of clarity through her as she stopped just off the center of the hall, looking up into the light that was just beginning to show overhead. Seeing the exhibit above her, she immediately knew where to find her quarry. Taking the nearby steps up to the museum's second level, she'd round the corner to indeed find a him leaning over the railing above where she'd been only a few moments before.

Marcus Nolan. The so-called "Librarian" of the Blackthornes Dragoons.

A few years ago, he'd been hailed as a hero within the Federated Commonwealth for putting an end to some sort of masterful plot intended to start a new war with the Draconis Combine. His face was painted all over the holovids, receiving a medal from a general before he was apparently ushered off and out of a job. Still he'd made as much a name for himself in recent years, oddly enough, as a historical author. Despite his retirement, he was still quite young, likely somewhere in his thirties. There were numerous marks acquired in the line of duty or surgery thereafter that made it difficult to guess more exactly. Instead, she looked to his choices in action and candor. One thing she'd noticed that few seemed to realize was that despite his meticulous attention to physical form, there was one thing he could not change, and it bothered him deeply. His height. While not incredibly short, he was noticeably so compared to most anyone within the Dragoons, including herself. It was one of the few joys she had when near him to stand at her tallest, just because she could see himself stiffen up ever so slightly in a vain attempt to match her.

Today however, he seemed to hardly notice her. He was simply staring out toward the Samurai aerospace fighter held up in midair before them. Her attention shifted from him to the craft as she recalled more about it. If her memory was accurate, it had once piloted by some tragic hero in the Dragoons' history. Marcus had been beside himself when he'd first found the ship in a old storage unit, even going so far as to put up his own money to have it restored to full splendor. Now she could see why. Suspended facing a slightly downward angle by myomer cables to give it an 'in flight' appearance, the deep-purple-and gold-tinged craft loomed just above eye level before them. It really seemed as if-

"Looks like it could cut loose at any moment, doesn't it?"

The question startled her as she now realized he'd turned his head to the side to look at her, missing the change in her own assessment of the craft. The rest of his body hadn't moved, still leaning against the railing, but it was that single pupil of his right eye as he regarded her that sent a chill down her spine. It felt as though she'd been mesmerized by a dancing cobra, and had suddenly become all too aware of its poised strike. Now it was her turn to stiffen.

"Y..yes. I'd imagine it would likely pull this place down with those cables attached so firmly though."

The comment was neither witty nor aggressive, but she felt that if she had simply answered him directly it would have only lengthened the gap between them. She did not like being on unequal footing with anyone, even her superiors. A fact which had caused her betrayal and imprisonment what seemed like a life time ago.

Marcus said nothing in response at first, turning the sole eye away from her at last to return to the object of his fixation. With the gaze departing, Sasha had to bite down on her own lip to prevent any sigh of relief from leaving her. The awkward stillness continued between the two, seconds bleeding into minutes. Could it be another game or test of his? To see how long she could be patient? Sasha steeled herself this time, determined to wait him out and force this infernal man to be the one to break the eerie silence.

More minutes ticked by. Sasha felt as if she could scream in this deafening quiet. Her green eyes glared and bored into the back of the man's head, willing him to speak up. In the end, just as she was about to give in herself, he finally acquiesced.

"The Lost Rook. Have you heard of the story, Sasha?"

Having nearly bitten her own tongue to hold back her words as he'd spoken, she allowed herself a slight smile to have held in so long. Surely he'd never know anyway. "I think you once mentioned he was a pilot that had died in combat?"

"Lost, not dead." He corrected her. "To this day he remains the only person to remain MIA by the Blackthornes Dragoons. While a great many have died before and since, it has become a point of honor for them to go to any length to locate their fallen comrades in his name, to make sure he remains the only blemish on their record. That record is now in jeopardy."

His head turned and motioned, not to her, but to the noteputer on the desk a few feet away. Sasha before had simply mistaken it to belong to the museum. It was not his personal device, as she'd seen him use it often enough to know how carefully he guarded it. "I believe an appropriate password is the name of the prison that did not exist. You may change it later if you wish." That caught a glare from her, as any memory of that place still brought horrible memories of what the FWL guards did to her when their 'high and mighty' Captain-General wasn't looking. She quickly keyed in the code, changing it immediately to remove that hated name from her thoughts.

Three dossiers now displayed on the screen. She hardly noticed the rest,however, once her eyes fell upon the one labeled simply "Sasha."

Scuffing of the marbled tile drew her head up to find he had turned to face her now, his left arm still propped on the railing as he leaned against it. "As you can see, that is for you to keep. The first documents you'll likely notice are your own records, or at least those that the Capellan Confederation will lend us. It was quite difficult to barter. Seems they honor their dead greatly, despite whatever disservices they committed in life." His words, spoken so casually, still managed to hit her in the gut like a shot from and AC/20. Dead? Impossible! And yet in the file, it was so clearly listed. Things suddenly made more and more sense as to why she had been unable to contact friends or family! The man who had betrayed her had reported her dead..or perhaps the military had written her off to avoid the embarrassment of her failure! The other information was indeed her personnel file, some of which even she was never supposed to see. Sasha could only wonder just how he'd gotten this much information on her let alone why he needed it.

And that began to scare her a bit.

Marcus continued, seemingly unaware of the emotional fit she was going through at the time. "I know you intend return to the Confederation. Whether for justice, vengeance, or homesick, I don't really care. I do have a single question for you, however. Just how far would you go to get that second chance?"

Edited by Aranzor, 13 October 2015 - 12:52 PM.


#5 Aranzor

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Posted 13 October 2015 - 05:41 AM

'I know its gotta go like this, I know. Hell will always come before you grow.'


Urseinova, Emris IV of Free Worlds League
7 September 3052
09:23 Local Time

- Passcode Accepted: Personnel folder of Sasha has been erased. Final search of all items for user ID SashaSV have been changed or deleted. UserID SashaSV has been deleted. Event logs from 9:19 to 9:22 have been erased. Bon Voyage.-

She should have known better. Still, Sasha continued to stare at the noteputer's screen. Within twenty minutes of her meeting with Marcus, a new file had appeared on her Noteputer, directing her to a secured storage facility on the far end of town. The idea of retrieving some soldier lost for months on a distant planet was so far-fetched she knew she would have laughed it off had he not first given her the depths of her own situation. Unable to go home, forsaken by her family and country, and stuck in a life made for her by others?! Even as she left the meeting with Marcus, she was convinced she'd rather face his task than live this life.

By the time she arrived at the facility an hour later, she considered the mission nothing more than a scavenger hunt. After all, she wasn't going -into- combat, she was tracking down a missing person! Someone who wasn't trying to hide their tracks, staying close to military movements, and already appeared to have a decisive direction. Surely, she observed, the hardest time she'd have would be once she found whatever planet he'd died on and locating his tags. Not that this would be easy by any means, but still doable, especially with the backing of a unit as large as the Dragoons. Even as she opened the smaller storage unit and found the package within, she still had little idea of what was in store for her. The data drive marked "Bean Nighe" however, seemed full of promise...

Now she sat there, wondering as she glared at the screen, whether it might be easier (and more fun) to go hunt down that imp instead.

A new file appeared on her screen, followed by a video log marked "Play me first!" in a font fit for a child. Against her better judgement, she found herself pressing the play function, all the while starting to open the package before her in some vain hope at redemption from this new nightmare she was quickly finding herself in. As if on cue, that dreaded voice filled the small room, like he was somehow standing over her shoulder.

"Good Morning again, Sasha....I'm sure you're probably not very happy with me right now. There is a story breaking that will likely make both your work and ours that much more difficult going forward if we're found to be associated with one another. I'm sure by the time you leave the planet, you'll be all too aware of just what I mean by this. I had hoped to simply send you out as a scout and point us in the direction for retrieval. That, however, seems to have gone out the window." His serious tone shifted as well as that twisted smile that sent a shiver down her spine. "So we're going to play a new game! Welcome to your new career as a sp...er 'Agent!'" Were the gestures of quotations really necessary, or was he just really bad at hiding his enjoyment over her plight? “Here is the rundown, you’re still going to leave the planet and attempt to track down our dear missing Rook. It’s just not going to be on the Blackthornes’ bill. Not to worry, I have some options prepared for you that you can figure which will work best to get out and about. Hopefully by the time you reach Savannah, I’ll have a better plan for the next few phases of your travels. As I told you earlier, any and all mission information will be uploaded on secure code, so be sure to update your noteputer at the nearest HPG whenever possible. Other than that…I’d try to keep it off any planetary nets.”

At that, Marcus pulled up on video a case duplicate to the one before her that she’d been looking over.

“Now on to kits. These kits are going to be sort of a lifeline. They are few and only located on some planets. The contents of the kit are recorded in your noteputer, though for safety it will only display them once you’ve updated your device at each location. The kit itself does not leave the facility however. It’s the kind of thing securities will notice even in a crowd, so best not to chance it. Again, not to worry, you’re not expected to need all of the items inside. Most of these are really intended only to get you out of emergencies or special situations. Beyond that, I have every confidence you can work out a plan without my interference. If you need a kit though, it might come with a string or two attached. Nothing major, just a few tasks that need to be accomplished to either get to the kit or remove a potential threat. None of these kits will have a duplicate noteputer however, so if you lose that, you’re in a real bind. That’s your biggest asset and your greatest liability. There –is- a spare available but only if absolutely necessary and only 1 chance to recover it. Your password from before given to an account with the code name provided here will signal its delivery.” It was clear by the pause he gave what would happen if she lost the second one.

“Moving on finally to flight plans! There’s only one ship you need to be on, and it leaves tomorrow morning just before daybreak. Given the little amount of prep time, we’re left with only a few options of how to get you on board…”

Edited by Aranzor, 13 October 2015 - 12:53 PM.


#6 Aranzor

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Posted 17 October 2015 - 07:38 AM

-Will be posting the ending for the first 'chapter' of this story a little later on today. I have an idea in mind for what to do on the next chapter but need someone with knowledge of Clan and/or Rasalhague life and lore to review it first. Please message me if you want to help-

#7 Aranzor

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Posted 17 October 2015 - 08:14 PM

"'Cause finding what you've got sometimes means finding it alone."


Dropship Stella’s Cry
10 September 3052
19:25 Local Time

Rumors for the past few months are now being confirmed as many units of the Blackthornes Dragoons are returning to their major facility here on Emris IV. Laio and Steiner officials have pressed allegations to the MRBC and now directly to the Free Worlds League….

Name: Greer, Colton, Age 25, Height: 5'11, Notable Features: Scarring across chin to left cheek, Blackthornes Eagle on right bicep, birthmark-

Claims appear to range from breach of contract and forced combat to creating political instability in the area. Some have even gone as far as to point to a connection between the Duchy of Oriente for a potential strike against…

Growling to herself, Sasha struggled to force her mind back on her work. The data would be deleted after the 48 hour window and she wanted to make sure she had every bit of it memorized beforehand. Afterward, she knew a lot of it would only be reference as vague as possible in order to keep anyone who caught a glance or even dared to break into the device from learning her mission.

Scrolling down, she began once more over the material. Some of it were actual military notes. Others, however, had to have been trainer’s evaluations, perhaps even Marcus’s own notes on seeing the information. Combat Notes: 2200 hours combat simulations, 23 live drills, and 4 live combat missions. Tends toward high medium and low heavy weights for max firepower and maneuverability. Strong reflexes and spatial awareness. Completed courses in evasion and survival, close-quarters-combat, and asymmetrical warfare. With knowledge like this, it was small wonder the kid had run off to fight the invading Clans…

Starcorps Industries, the most recent employer of the Dragoons, continues to proclaim the Dragoons’ innocence of charges, but has agreed to release much of the troop to return home until such time as the hearing. The Dragoons have reached out to friendly-allies to fulfill their remaining contracts on distant worlds in the meantime…

The volume being turned up brought Sasha back to the present, looking at the man she was sharing the cabin with for the next 4 hours, at least until the dropship could dock with the Merchant Jumpship Franklin. Marcus had already come through for her to change dropships mid-flight, which was lucky because she wasn’t sure just how much longer this arms dealer was going to tolerate his bindings and chair, regardless of whether she was nice enough to leave him the remote. Already he was at it again with trying to get her attention for something by muting the holovid and then returning it to blaring loud. She waited until she had his gaze before calmly stating, “Don’t make me take the batteries out…” to which a grit of recognition would come from beneath the heavy gag she'd had to insist on earlier to prevent him from calling this security team. She had nearly decided on cutting them down and hoping to find a way dispose of the bodies before she'd discovered Marcus's other gift within the noteputer, titled 'How to Win Friends and Influence People, Special 299th edition.' Despite its outward appearances, this guide for spy tricks seemed quite helpful. Now not only was she on board without ever showing an ID, but her host's goons were also under the assumption should they dare to interrupt him before the final jump to Irian, they would get to experience said jump from outside the ship's hull. Chuckling to herself, Sasha looked forward to reading more into that book as a reward once she got through the rest of this kid’s background...and safely on board the next dropship.

A familiar face caught her attention, as three men were shown boarding a private dropship with Blackthornes' logo. Two faces were dead serious, but Marcus never lost that slight smirk about him. It was as though he knew some amusement no one else did. Then it hit her that she was likely that amusement. Reaching over to take the remote firmly from the man who's name she still hadn't bother to learn, she herself returned the volume back to its normal level.

"...Major Winston has been seen on Outreach, conducting preparations for an MRBC assessment that was to occur in the next few weeks. Lieutenant Colonel Ray Razor and his party, shown here, left earlier this morning to join the group on Outreach and will likely head up the unit’s defense with the committee to allow the Major to focus on maneuvers should they be permitted. Colonel Falkenhayn has also been called to Atreus to speak with a Parliamentary Committee assembled to review the claims. While it has been stressed that this is not an official trial… "

Try as she might, Sasha found herself smiling a bit for the first time since she'd begun this ordeal. She might be the game to keep Marcus amused, but she'd take the worst he had to offer than be stuck in the landmine that his group had managed to land themselves in! Handing the remote back to the griping, gripping hands of her host, she promptly returned to her work, while he seemed to at last quiet down as the news gave way to a new episode of Immortal Warrior.

Edited by Aranzor, 17 October 2015 - 08:24 PM.


#8 Lincoln Drake

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Posted 21 January 2016 - 03:29 AM

A really amazing story. I'm eager for chapter 2. Quite impressive!





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