24 replies to this topic

[Bill Bullet]

Once again, thanks to all the participates who submitted a story for the event, thanks to our Community Manager Tina for posting this on PGI's social media, and thanks to our judges who helped me tackle the monster this became almost over-night!

SO without further ado, the winners of the first Golden Pen Event are...


1ST PLACE: Chafe

2ND PLACE: Rhaythe

3RD PLACE: Tygerlily

HONORABLE MENTIONS: Gorgo7, Ronyn, and Escef

FAN FAVORITE: XxPUGxX

[Bill Bullet]

This was such fun to organize and judge thanks to so many great entries! The different viewpoints of infantry, civilians, Clanners, and IS pilots told of the glory and horrors of Mech warfare. The letters home, the tales of lost potential, the last stands, the overwhelming victories, the unique looks at the different cultures in the BattleTech Universe...all of it grand, all of it entertaining!

[Soulstrom]

Congratulations goes out to all the winners.

[Scout Derek]

Now can we put this on fan fiction (also sorry I couldn't write one was busy with RL)

[Bill Bullet]

So I will be handing out the prizes throughout the month of August starting with 1st place. If all the winners would like to post their stories in this thread so you can bask in the glow of your victory feel free, ALSO once you receive your prize if you'd be kind enough to post about it here too so people know I actually followed through

[Peiper]

Grats!

[xX PUG Xx]

Congratulations everyone and a huge thank you to Bill for organising the event and his generous prizes.

[Rhaythe]

Bill, you and everyone that participated are awesome. Thank you!

[Stingray Productions]

Yay! Well done winners!

[Chafe]

Maulin' times ahead
When I sat down to pen something for your contest I never imagined it might actually win, especially not with the incredibly high standards set by all the other entrants. Really enjoyed participating though and I think you've rekindled something in me I forgot about a long time ago, I'll almost certainly be contributing to the fanfic section more in future.
Most of all, a huge thankyou to Bill Bullet for his passion for battletech fiction, his vision in organizing this contest and his generosity in putting up the prizes.
I'll try and find the time to reformat the forum version of the story in the next couple of days, in the meantime I leave you with this as tribute to all who entered (and a subtle hint to PGI about a game mode that's sorely overdue )

Solaris

They came from across the Galaxy,
Came to do battle with their weapons of choice,
Some loud and proud,
Others subtle and stealthy.
The crowd cheered as the weapons blazed,
Howling their delight at the spectacle before them,
Each shell a word, each beam a semantic,
The crash of fallen mech's punctuating the end of each tale,
The winner almost an irrelevance here,
As, in Solaris, every pilot is a hero.

Edit: And here's the original piece reformatted for the forums, alternatively you can find it here:
https://docs.google....dit?usp=sharing

Spoiler

Hula Girl

Another Day, another planet, another war, somebody else's battle but "the CBills were good".

It had been a tropical planet before war arrived, dense with lush succulents and almost comically overgrown trees, now... now it looked like everywhere else he could remember, a broken mudscape of craters and broken bodies, both metal and flesh. A landscape dotted with unseen threats, pockets of persistent nerve agent, high rad spots and unexploded munitions. A landscape he was intimately familiar with, partially his creation, partially his child.

The crackled and garbled orders that made it to his headset through the ecm were all too familiar, the voices all too unfamiliar, the war had been hard and the casualties high. No shortage of bright, young hopefuls to replace them though, all too willing to sacrifice their lives for a chance, a cbill, a lie.

"Copy that control, Bravo lance moving to charlie eight". His own voice, distant, an automatic response.

Bravo lance, that was a joke, just him remaining. His lancemates lay dead kilometers behind him. Two rookies, their light mechs smashed apart when they hesitated as a pair of Jaegermech flanked the position, the massed autocannons tearing jagged holes through endosteel stanchions and ripping their legs from under them.

He wished he could remember their screams as the jaeger had moved in to finish the job, the rookies too new to fully realise what kind of war it had been, still expecting mercy or some kind of code of battle. But no, they were lost amongst the chorus of all the others accumulated over the long years, their humanity washed away in a choir that sang to him of his own inhumanity.

The rookies live's had bought he and Mule the time they needed to reposition. Mule had been the last familiar face in the conflict for him veteran of many campaigns and many more drinks together afterwards.

They'd found cover in what would have been a copse of the massive trees, now a cluster of titanic scorched logs, not much, but enough to work with. Mule using his Wolverines speed, had ducked in and out of cover, repositioning subtly and often, the bright blue beams had made the Jaegers armour glow a dull red and filled the air with metallic steam.

They had both known the plan, Mule would distract while he moved around to bring his Cataphract's rotary autocannon to bear. Simple to execute and, with sufficient cover, difficult to predict exactly where the attack will come from. His only consideration was time, sooner or later the Jaegers would pin Mule down, the lone Wolverine would be unable to stand against either of them in a direct confrontation.

Disaster had struck as the he had cut between two halves of a fallen tree, the mech had lurched to the right as a thin covering of mud obscuring a cluster of thinner branches that could not hope to support his mech's 70 ton weight had given way. His mech's right foot had not dropped far, but far enough to wedge his foot under the massive log.

* * *

"Problem Mule, going to be 30 seconds longer"
Servo's howl as he wrestles with reluctant controls.

"Hurry chief, running out of room real fast here"
He twists his mech’s torso to face the trapped foot and the rotary autocannon begins to spin up.

"I mean it man, they’re right on top of me!"
Fat chunks of wood explode off the log as the autocannon chews through it.

"I'm coming Mule!"
The mech lurches backwards as the foot breaks free.

"FUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!"
Red dots converge on blue on his mechs display. His mech rounds the last fallen tree.

"Keep it together Mule, focus fire, Jaeger Alpha"
The first Jaeger comes into view, its firing towards Mules position, the Pilot squeezes the master trigger with desperate hate.

"Can't see for s**t!"
The Cataphract's lasers and autocannon shred fist sized chunks of ceramic's from the Jaeger while Mule's lasers spew wildly in the background, Streak missiles fire seconds later as they lock, punching into the already smoking holes.

"I've got this one Mule, just avoid the other"
He stamps hard on the accelerator pedal, lowers the Cataphracts shoulder and smashes into the beleaguered Jaeger knocking it a full twenty feet backwards. It crashes to the floor belching smoke and wracked with secondary explosions as its ammunition begins to cook off, rapidly becoming a funeral pyre.

"..."
He rounds his mech to the left, feet and torso twisting in unison to finally get sight of Mule and the other enemy mech. Mule's mech ragged and steaming between the Pilot and the Jaeger, just 50 meters between them, the wolverines twisted arms lying on the ground either side of it, shut down. Enemy Jaeger raining shots into its legs.

"...icked a bad place to overheat"
A brief surge of relief and excitement as the Pilot realises Mule's mech is back up and running, the Cataphract finally passes the Wolverine and opens fire on the Jaeger.

"No such thing as a good one buddy"
He can't help but reply to Mule with the counterpoint to one of their favourite combat expressions, it reminds him that they've been in worst spots than this. The same lethal burst of autocannon slugs, high energy lasers and missiles illuminates the enemy mech but it refuses to switch targets, continuing to spit its contempt into the stationary Wolverine’s legs.

"Shiiiiii......"
The debilitating cannonade from the Jaeger finally takes it toll on Mule's mech, it comes apart at the waist in a welter of sparks and screaming metal. He shuts the sight out of his mind and focuses on the target in front of him, aiming just inside its shoulder, where he sees the most damage.

"Hang in there Mule, this fool's about to fail his XL check "
The lasers recycle as the Jaeger begins twisting to engage him. Megajoules of energy focused into white hot beams punch into the Jaegers shoulder erupting from the back in corruscating bursts. Gouts of flame erupt from its shoulder and it grinds shudderingly to a halt.

"Power systems spread all through those things to save weight for the ammo"

"Now THAT really kicked like a Mule"
He laughed, remembering how Mule had got his handle, firing a 185 mil autocannon with a faulty recoil supressor. Glancing down he realises if the arms and legs were still attached he'd almost be in the same position he fell now.

"At least you live up to your name, I think the mech needs a new one"

"Hah! Yeah. Pretty Dancer's not really fitting anymore... Dirty legging bas**rds..."
He looks back to give the Jaegers pilot the coup de grace and his eyes lock on the prominently displayed middle finger pushed against its cockpit.

"This is for the rookies, fu**er
As the pilot glances at his weapon readouts he notices the frantically winking lights on his targeting display, coldly spelling out his rivals vengeance with machine precision.

"MULE! The reactor! Some kind of jury rig...."

Twisting away as he slams the mech into reverse he realises with horrifying clarity that there's nothing he can do to save Mule, his old friend is just too close, the Jaeger still laden with munitions.

The reactor pushes itself to its damaged limits before the small shaped charge on it detonates, air rushes in to fill the plasmas vacuum chamber. In the smoke of combat it gives the mech the appearance of taking a mighty inhalation before the air reaches several thousand degrees in under a second and violently expands.

The resulting overpressure wave shatters the reactor’s containment vessel and sprays plasma throughout the mechs internal structure, detonating shells, capacitors and fuel cells. The forces amplify and redouble until the Jaeger blows apart, becoming the shrapnel for its own retribution.

The blast shatters his mech's right arm, ripping it off below the elbow in the hail of half ton chunks of metal. Another smashing into the side of the cockpit buckling the frame and cracking the cockpit glass, allowing the stench of burnt oil tinged with the odour of cooking pork to drift into the compartment.

He forces himself to go back and check the Pretty Dancer's cockpit despite what he already knows in his heart. There is a brief moment of hope as he see's the cockpit intact but as he gets closer and peers through the glass he is met by Mule's glazed and unseeing eyes. He tries not to notice that the shockwave made him puke out his stomach, tries to keep a memory of his friend in better times.
He almost manages.

* * *

He comes back to his cockpit with a start, instinctively checks his instruments, verifies he is still on course. He ponders for a moment, it is unlike him to reflect like that until long after he leaves a combat zone; it’s one of the reasons he's still alive.

He realises that he's been watching his Hula Girl, a small ornamental figurine of a woman in a grass skirt that shimmies in time with the mechs motion. Pilots get them for all manner of reasons, sentimentality, luck, fashion. His is a reminder, an icon to caution, something he can’t let go of. He tells other people it’s to remind him to take some R&R before shifting the conversation elsewhere.
As he returns his view to the landscape he stops and looks back.

His hula girl just winked at him.

He stares intently at the little ornament, watches it swaying in its eternal dance, it reminds him of the beach he had got it from, back in what seemed like another life. As he gazes at it he almost fancies he can hear the sounds of a distant steel guitar drifting somewhere between audible and inaudible.

He remembers how beautiful the beach had been, mile after mile of fine white sand next to a crystal blue sea, long evenings and warm breezes. A carefree existence that he had wanted to last forever.

"Sure was fine there Sugarpie" A soft lilting accent, full of knowing promise.
He gawks as he realises the hula girl is speaking to him, it fills him with dread.

"I just simply don’t know why you left" Teasing now, almost giggling.

"Yes you do! NO! Wait! Shutup! You're just an ornament!" His voice is wild and full of panic

"I betcha sure would like a cool drink and a nice lie down on your favourite lounger right now sugarpie" Gentle, inviting.

He tries to drag his attention from the doll, but his vision swims, a thousand miles away another part of his brain is screaming at him but its warnings are lost in the fog of his mind. He is too tired, too weary of the constant horror to summon the will to remain in his cockpit, the hula girl appearing more and more lifelike by the second, guitar lullaby filling his mind.

"I can't come back though, I.... I killed you.... They want me dead" His voice the softest whisper now, finally the hulagirl’s face becomes recognisable.

He gasps as her visage brings back the memories, the party weekend after basic training, too many daquiris and way too many tequila chasers. They'd gone racing at midnight, bikes so powerful they were a danger to sober riders. She didn't stand a chance. He'd had to leave in a hurry, a rich girl on holiday from a powerful family, only choice to hide himself in the most dangerous parts of the galaxy with the most disreputable merc companies.

"Hush now sugarpie, everyone’s happy here, not a care in the world" Her voice purrs at him

"I... " Hesitant, unsure what is happening or where he wants to be

"All your friends are here too sugarpie, they simply can’t wait to see you" Mules face flashes across his mind, smiling and whole.

"H... How?..."

"Oh sugarpie, you know how, you just have to come join me...."

* * *

Delta lance closed on the stationary cataphract cautiously, alert for booby traps left by the opposing force. First to approach was the Raven, sleek body bristling with sensors, probing the mech for any signs of life.

"Rabbit here, everything checks out, seems clean, I'm too short to get a look into the cockpit though"

"Copy that Rabbit, coming in for a closer look" Captain Stanislaw Kavinsky guided his Grasshopper towards the battered Cataphract pulling to in a position that allowed him a good view of the pilot’s compartment from the lofty heights of his.
The pilot was supine in his seat, head lolling back, spray of red and gray behind it. His sidearm still in his mouth ballooning one of his cheeks out.

"What happened captain?" Rabbits young voice inquisitive but cautious

"Suicide. Mechs in reasonable shape, cabin cracked though, I'd guess the rumours about that psychotropic nerve agent were right" The captain’s voice deliberately matter of fact, quashing doubt before it arose.

"Psychowhatic Who Agent?"

"Gas, absorbs through your skin, gets into your mind, plays on your fears. They reckon the newest ones can hang around for days"

"Copy that captain" Rabbits voice betrays that he wished he hadn't asked now.

"Decent salvage for us though, and look! The guy had a hula girl! Once it’s cleaned up it looks like you get an ornament after all" Stanislaw smiles to himself as he finds a way to distract Rabbits anxiety, that kid was too worried by half.

"Cool! Thanks Cap'n, those are meant to be lucky!"

Edited by Chafe, 30 July 2015 - 08:06 PM.

[Phlinger]

This was very awesome that you hosted this Bill, very cool.

Congratulations to those that won, very well done.

[Gorgo7]

Thanks Bill!

[Thom Frankfurt]

Great job guys/gals. I still haven't gotten around to reading all the entries. Hopefully I'll get around to that this weekend and maybe doing some posting.

As Bill mentioned, it's always interesting (and freaking awesome!) of seeing perspectives of non mechwarriors. They offer a tinge of... squishiness that I find delightful. And the sheer amount of entries was... mind boggling.

I hope we get to do this again. And soon.

[TygerLily]

Yay, 3rd place! Thanks so much for hosting Bill!

And thanks to everyone who read our stuff!

Spoiler

“He’s a goddamn coward…” spat a weary voice.

My vision of the dank cell floated lazily around as I moved my head. After a moment I understood the man’s words. Pirates. Confinement. Things were clearing up. “Alive” seemed to be the minimum requirement of our captivity. Alive we would soon find a new life of slavery on the Periphery. Dead, well, less profit but these pirates were unconcerned about the loss. Physical abuse was constant but sometimes it culminated with…

That’s what...Boyd...Boyd was talking about:

The Pit.

The cell door opened with a groan. The first man in was unconscious; thrown to the floor with a dull smack. In the dim light I could see reddened skin all covered in burns. His combat suit was in tatters and matched Boyd’s – light grey with purple, green and white insignia: Marik.

Next in was a guard armed with a compact automatic weapon slung at the ready followed by a tall man. The tall man’s uniform was crisp and decorated with a various medals. I only recognized one but the rest featured a mixture of crests from the various Inner Sphere Houses. The uniform itself was a “Kuritan" style officer's dress uniform with a large patch over the side-abdomen. This was the pirate leader, “Red” Johhne Manes. I was remembering more now. Manes was no soldier and this wasn’t his uniform or his medals. It was part of his fantasy.

We’d met him long after we were taken from our firebase. His thugs raided with a small force of Light Mechs that melted our security contingent with lasers and machine guns. Soon after, an APC crashed the perimeter and spilled a couple teams into our compound.

Our main defense, two 20-ton Wasp Mechs, were easily surrounded and forced to shut down. I was stationed there as a comms specialist with a private security company called Evandrus and was in the chow hall when the alarms sounded. A few of us were able to hold out in the base for a while but in the end a flashbang grenade rolled across the floor, followed by a flood of boots, and a crack on the skull. I awoke in this cell...weeks ago? A month? Months?

We’d finally met Manes some time after our arrival. He wouldn’t be found on the field taking captives and loot. He could be found in his Orion. Where do you get a pristine 75-ton machine like that? It was already a classic design to begin with...Manes eked out a profit for his merry band but to further his MechWarrior fantasy a few of his captives were permitted to take the field against him in The Pit. There Manes would let them ‘fight for their freedom’. If any returned, they died of injuries a day or two later.

Manes. He was a goddamn coward.

“Was that you talking?” he said kneeling down and pulling a photo from his jacket. My photo...of my fiance, Lily. He began reading.

“‘Go get’m Tiger. Love, your Tiger Lily.’ Cute girl - I found this next to your ID with your address,” he said. He looked up to his armed lackey and laughed.

“Maybe we should take a little R&R in the core worlds.”

“I...will kill you,” I managed through my fear.

“Yea?“ He stood up and delivered a savage kick. “Brave talk now but how about a trip to The Pit? And then I think I will visit your little Tiger Lily,” he said and threw the photo onto the damp floor.

________________________________________________________________________________

“Aw, it’s easy, see. You have this trigger to fire all your guns. This one will fire them one at a time…”

Atop a rickety scaffolding, some shaved-headed brute was giving me a half-ass tutorial on piloting and gunnery. I gulped water from a steel canteen cup as I looked at the behemoth in front of me. The Mech had a giant right shoulder – which I surmised gave the 50-ton Hunchback it’s name. Various lenses were protruding at slight angles and a couple extra tubular contraptions were bolted on the outside with wires wildly flowing back into the hunch.

The bay was cluttered with seeming piles of junk and smelled like burning ozone. Welding could be heard crackling somewhere in the large hanger. I looked across the bay out into The Pit.

There were several medium size aircraft strewn about as ‘cover’ and I could make out four dropship armor plates leaning together as a big makeshift building in the distance. Just outside to the right of the hangar door, a tall concrete wall ran off into the horizon. It spanned nearly out of view before cutting left, and then left again, to enclose the entire arena.

For a moment I thought I saw a metallic glint in the sky, far, far off….

I was shaken from my observations as a large helmet was dropped over my head. Instinctively, I tried to raise my hands but the iron cuffs stopped me and dug into my wrists. After a moment, the faceplate blinked on and I could hear the muffled voice of my instructor. He was guiding me into the cockpit and plugging things in. He half closed the hatch, propping it with a brick, and leaned in to unlock my cuffs. He wriggled the rest of the way out and closed the hatch.

The cockpit was drowned in cigarette butts and beer cans. Among the trash I located the various toggles and powered up the Hunchback according to my brief tutorial. The fusion engine emitted a low drone that crescendoed from a deep bass to a strangely calming hum.

BattleMechs were truly a marvel of modern warfare; merging machine with man. Every government has sought bigger, better soldiers and this was the final product. Firepower to level a city that wasn't piloted so much as worn like a second skin. I had never used a neurohelmet before but the theory is they connect you to the Mech via your own neural network. You use your body's own natural balancing instincts and the helmet translates that to commands for your Mech.

“Come earn your freedom, ******,” said Manes’ tinny voice in my helmet radio.

I ‘walked’ and the helmet translated that impulse. The Hunchback began lurching forward and I could tell there was something wrong with the leg. The neurohelment was pumping all sorts of information into my mind from diagnostics to weapon statuses. And while it seemed like I was looking at them all for a minute, I found that only seconds had actually passed. Despite having all the sensor and battle info being relayed directly into my brain, the machine itself moved sluggishly. I thought for a moment about the sweltering summers back home and swimming when a kid; trying to move underwater.

I slowly maneuvered toward the hangar door and entered The Pit. I suddenly remembered the photo of Lily in my pocket. I marveled that the neurohelmet automatically understood that I meant to reach with my actual arms in to my pocket and the Mech’s arms stayed steady. I removed the photo and fastened it between the cockpit glass and frame.

________________________________________________________________________________

The concrete wall beside me exploded into shrapnel, bits of refuse ticking and tapping on the cockpit. I barely had time to see Manes across the field before the computer's placid female voice broke into an audible warning, “Incoming missiles.”

A swarm of projectiles streaked toward me leaving wispy trails of smoke. Intuitively, I made a run for the nearest cover. A pile of wrecked rotary aircraft made a hasty shelter as the impacting missiles thundered around me.

“This ammo ain’t cheap but I think this will be worth every penny,” cackled Manes. “Come on out and show me what that Hunchback can do.”

For a moment I had a sensor lock. I fixed the Orion across a large dried riverbed. If I swung right, I could make it to the makeshift building. Manes blinked off my sensors and I stood my Mech up. I kicked in to the highest speed I could. Or rather, I began to run and the Mech followed suit. It felt like a slowly building sprint until I was soaring across the terrain toward the structure. I felt like a marathon runner without a hint of fatigue.

A sudden blast caught my left arm and spun my torso with it. Painlessly, my arm spiraled off and the computer droned calmly, “Left arm: destroyed. Medium laser: destroyed.” It started in on other components and I caught another glimpse of Manes, much closer now. Laserfire raked the walls behind me as I put the structure between us.

I could see why people might become a mercenary and live this way forever.

My back was to the wall and I panicked thinking of my next move. Far, far away, I saw that metallic glint again…

A hulking shadow rounded the corner and two beams of green laserfire burned into my armor. It was time to fire back. Recalling my half-tutorial, I attacked frantically with all my arsenal. The eight beams lanced out converging on the Orion's leg leaving a glowing molten wound. I regained my balance and fired off another emerald volley before Johhne returned fire with a rack of dumbfire missiles. His strike impacted on my left leg and sent me sprawling.

My eyes caught the photo of Lily looking back at me. It was a picture I took at our engagement party. Her dress had slipped off her shoulder a little and her dark curls swirled around it. She was holding a crystal glass with an olive on a toothpick and had flashed a brilliant smile. It was a famous smile and reminded me of how happy we saw our future together.

I might never see that smile again. A dizzying anger stood my warmachine and threw my 50-tons forward into the Orion. A deafening crash sounded and we tumbled back against the concrete perimeter. The top most section slowly began to sway. I attempted to stand the Hunchback again.

Manes arose in the Orion and the wall behind him began to fall in sections.

"You son of a *****!” he screamed across the radio. His fury manifested in a volley of light and munitions that blasted through the remainder of my Mech’s left side...and then his Mech shrugged slowly and blinked off my radar.

The moment almost passed before I realized he had overheated the Mech. The Orion was beginning its restart sequence when I had the epiphany to take aim at the exposed leg. Another full barrage burned through the Orion’s right leg and it buckled. Manes caught himself for a moment before his ammunition exploded up into his torso in a chain reaction that then blasted sideways through his center mass. The triangular cockpit of the Mech flung open and I saw Manes eject. His curses disappeared into static as the Orion’s reactor exploded filling the air with artificial electron belts. The blast shoved me to the ground several meters away.

My heavy breathing echoed in the helmet and the world was silent for a moment. I carefully stood the Hunchback and saw a gaping hole in the perimeter.

________________________________________________________________________________

Klaxons sounded in the distance. I kept stealing glances at Lily as I made my way across the terrain toward a large mountain pass ahead. It didn't take long for the pirates to scramble their forces. Laserfire began flashing past me. At any moment I expected to take a fatal blow to the back from one of the heavy defense turrets that were undoubtedly spooling up. I suddenly had the bright idea that I’d rather lose my right arm than die and began twisting at the waist to present my arm to the oncoming fire.

Suddenly, a blue bolt flashed out from a rocky outcropping several hundred meters to the front. The ground near my feet erupted and the electronics in my helmet crackled and the HUD briefly faded from the near hit. Rocky debris plinked across my cockpit glass.

“...said hold fire! He’s running away from them,” said a voice through static on my radio. “Keep coming MechWarrior. We’ll keep you covered.”

I felt some sort of new connection through my Mech’s sensors. A network added and suddenly a glowing shaft of light appeared on the HUD, positioned several meters behind the stony fortress. Through the rocks ahead I could suddenly see the designations of several Mechs boxed on the HUD with blue. Marik forces.
“Follow that waypoint,” the voice commanded.

As I approached, friendly Mech’s rocketed to the top of the outcrop in front of me and sent another enfilade of blue bolts crackling overhead at targets behind me. As I rounded a pass, I saw a huge transport ship and nearly a dozen massive Mechs standing watch.

I thought of the metallic glint I'd kept seeing earlier...

As I was rushing forward a voice came on the radio.

“Whoa, slow down, slow down. Follow the ground guides in.”

________________________________________________________________________________

In the month that followed, sergeant Razum Korova diagnosed my malnutrition, gave me a regimen of vitamins, and assigned me to corporal Madri Annushka for physical training. We made laps around the base of the company’s Union-class dropship. Annushka runs marathons when he’s not punching 85,000-C-Bill-holes in enemy Mechs with his Hunchback’s autocannon 20. He seemed to approve of the Mech I rode in on.

In the meantime, the Marik strikeforce periodically sent out scouting and raiding missions to corral the pirates in their base while reading and weakening their defenses. Soon the company commander, captain Billens, felt confident in their plan to assault the pirate base and rescue the rest of their men. I was invited along.

As I entered the hangar, I saw the Hunchback standing tall. It still resembled the patchwork project of some maniacal mechanic but it had all its armor and a fresh coat of paint.

________________________________________________________________________________

Our machines thundered out of the dropship in the golden setting sun. We would be moving out to the pirate base, arriving just after night had fallen.

“All right, MechWarriors,” the radio keyed to life with Billens’ muffled voice. “You know the drill. Just like in the mission sims...I want my scouts out to delta-four, sweep echo-four, then head to the right flank. Keep your eyes peeled. They may have a small force but in a swarm they will do some serious damage."

Mic off; mic on.

“We’re all coming back from this.”

The Marik forces began moving forward up the valley and I took my first steps forward with them. The company commander chimed in on my 1-to-1 direct channel…

“Stick close to me, rook. You’ll get your revenge but we run a tight ship here. And what’d did you pick as a callsign again?”

I stole a quick glance at the photo on my cockpit glass. It was obvious.

“Tiger Lily."

[Sir Ludwig]

Congrats to everyone. Thank you to PGI and MWO for this event. I really enjoyed reading the fan fiction.

Regards,
Sir Ludwig

[Bill Bullet]

Alrighty the 1st, 2nd, and 3rd place winners all have their gift codes. I'll be taking care of the honorable mentions and Fan Fav next week!

[Gorgo7]

Thanks Bill!

[Rhaythe]

Bill is very much a man of his word. Thank you very much, sir!

[TygerLily]

Bill has gotten me my prize. Thank you again, sir, for this contest and for being such a great individual!

[Bill Bullet]

Ok, prizes for honorable mentions/fan favorite should be dropping today once I get paid lol. If XxPUGxX you could PM me what Mech you want as your prize I'd appreciate it.