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[Hagan]

**Sort of an experiment. I've not written mechwarrior fiction in a long time. this is to sort of dust off the old skills and get the kinks out. If I can keep it up i'll be updating a few times a week.**

The night gave way to the morning rays reluctantly, the normally vibrant sunlight subdued by the thin layer of cloud cover that cast everything is a dull gray tint. Gadivan III should have been beautifully green and lush at this time of year, but spring had come late and clung on well into the summer months. When it wasn't raining, it was dull and overcast. When it wasn't dull and miserable, the clouds parted to let out the warm air and let the winds chill the air to almost winter temperatures. And whenever that wasn't happening, it was raining again.
Harmen thought it was pretty pitiful weather for an argi-world that prided itself on its tourist industry. As he maneuvered his mech down the forest roads and past rocky outcrops, he switched his helmets vision enhancement to Heat tracking and played his torso back and forth, scanning the tree line for contacts. He knew he should have kept his mouth shut back at the base, but like an inbreed hick his commander thought he was, he'd complained once to often on an open channel how he was bored standing his mech outside the facility doing nothing.
And so, as if by magic an assignment had come up, one that required him to grab a few hours sleep before heading out at two in the morning. That would not have been so bad, had they not given him a different mech assignment, one of the facilities Zeus battlemechs, an immense behemoth designed to hi the enemy hard at all ranges. Its not that he didn't appreciate the extra firepower, but given that the planet had never been raided by a hostile force in its entire history, all he could do was play with the sensors and cycle though his weapons systems to pass the time.
For Harmen, it wasn't so much the duty or the useless firepower, it was the cockpit. All mechwarrors got used to sitting dead center in the mechs 'head', but no other mech, save for maybe the Battlemaster, exposed the pilot to so much window. His commander often referred to a Zeus's cockpit as a 'crystal coffin', in that you could see the deceased quite clearly, right in the middle of the glass canopy. How many pilots had been killed by a carefully placed sniper shot at long range in a Zeus? He didn't know the figure but he bet it was pretty damn high.
Before he could dwell on the oh-so-impressive view the cockpit afforded him, his radio crackled to life, drowning his hearing in a burst of static and feedback before clearing.
"You still awake smart-arse?" spoke the voice of Commander Burr.
"Yes, sir. Just finishing the sweep of sector nine delta."
"Good. The eggheads here have another assignment for you. Your ride is one of the experimental models they've been tinkering with. I see from the operations log you've already been playing with the sensor suite. Report."
It suddenly dawned on Harmen why he'd been assigned this mech rather than his Centurion, they're test pilot had chickened out again, the cowardly son-of-a-
"Sensors are... sensitive. They can pick up and distinguish the heat signatures of animals almost half a mile away, and the independent tracking systems let me keep tabs on a tree rodent that has been stalking me for the last half and hour."
"Ah, I see. Target marker Indigo one, that's your rodent?"
"Yes, sir." he replied, quickly checking all the monitors until he found what he was looking for. Normally this wasn't a problem, all mechs cockpits normally had a standard system layout, but the scientist had been tinkering with this particular chassis and had obviously been playing about with the cockpit design. Nothing was where it was supposed to be, and whoever was normally this mechs pilot was left handed, rather than right handed like he was, further confusing the control layout.
"Good. Okay, we are reseting your targeting system and uploading an assignment directly to your computer. Your task is to survey an old mining pit a klick to the north of your current position. Scan the perimeter of the pit and look for anything out of the ordinary and report back immediately."
"Understood sir. Is this a training exercise or a possible intruder?"
The radio was silent for several seconds as Harmen brought his mech to a full stop and assessed the incoming data.
"Unknown. Security was handed the data a few minutes ago, and there is no indication this is a real situation or a simulated test. Your packing life rounds and your lasers are hot, so consider this situation-one, understood?"
"Understood. Will I get any support?"
"They have a warrior light helicopter heading to the pit now, it'll provide aerial recon and fire support. I'm rousing the troops now, we wont be be able to get there for almost thirty minutes once active, so if this turns bad, RUN. Understood?"
"Yes sir."

Half an hour had passed by the time Harmen arrived at the pit and the weather had turned from morning frost to moderate rain again. This had hampered his speeds when heading downhill, cutting his visibility down considerably, and making the ground underfoot slick and slippery, forcing him to reduce speed on the inclines. Lichen, grass and loose earth clung desperately to the rim of the edge of the pit walls, as if nature was attempting to reclaim the massive void that had been gouged expertly int the earth.
The enhanced sensors told him it was a mile long and almost half a mile at its widest point, going down almost three hundred feet at the far end. After hours of tree's and rocks, the sight of the vast gray wound in the middle of the forest was quite a shock to his senses. Shouldn't exist, the dimensions and sheer scale of the thing physically hurt his brain as he tried to make sense of the sight before him. He knew the sensation, he'd felt it before like all mech pilots did when they are first show a battlemech up close. At first they look like giant statues, impressive to look at when stood still, but in the hands of an experienced pilot, a one hundred ton Atlas could dance. It was hard to imagine, but had his instructor at the academy not done so that first day, he would never have believed it.
At that moment a helicopter flew overhead from behind him and began to lazily circle the pit. He shook of the dazed wonder he had felt a moment before and engaged the targeting computer, bringing up the aircrafts ID signature so he could signal them.
"This is Red Nine to... I'm sorry, is this a joke."
A static hiss washed over the comms channel before the pilot replied.
"Depends on whose laughing Red Nine."
"Your call-sign is Bailout?"
"Well yeah." he replied. Silence washed over the channel for several more seconds before he continued. "Because I bail people out of trouble. See? Air support, Bailout?"
"It just, well... nothing, forget it. Lets continue with the mission." he said, bringing up the map of the area.
"No, go on, I want to know what you where about to say." said Bailout, almost pleading. "I've had this name for seven year now and all the mech test pilots just giggle at it, why? No one will tell me."
Harmen sighed before continuing, wishing he'd never opened his mouth.
"A Bailout is an operational codeword used by mech pilots for a washout who couldn't make it through basic training, to then join the armored cavalry. this happens one of two ways, Bail out of a mech three times during training, or get thrown out for not making the grade. When the cavalry devision picks you up, it bails you out of having to go home in disgrace."
Several more tense minutes passed as he waited for the response, his eye's drawn to the circling aircraft and away from his screens, before he responded.
"Oh, I see. Well I guess that explains a lot. You mech jocks are a weird bunch. Anyway, your objective is to scout nav Epsilon, about five hundred meter south of you. I'll check the perimeter for anything suspect."
"Roger that." replied Harmen, relieved he'd not put his foot in it again.
Moving down the ramp into the pit, he couldn't but notice what a lovely wide and almost panaramic view the huge window afforded him and wondered how many places a sniper could be hiding right now. Although a part of his mind counted forty three overhead, it failed to count the one dead ahead, now four hundred meters away and closing.

*End of part 1*