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[The Smith]

Long story short. This is an origin story for the Outreach Irregulars. We are an upstart merc unit based on Snord's Irregulars. I think people will like it and I hope it's readable.



The Capacitor Lounge Harlech Outreach April 4^th 3049
The Capacitor Lounge wasn’t the kind of place you went to pick up chicks. What it was; was an incredibly cramped, windowless, whole in the wall; on the mostly industrial west side of Harlech. No… not a place to pick up chicks, but the beer was cheap, and Gauge kept um cumin’.
Gauge was an ancient looking Lyran mercenary veteran who’d found himself too old, and too tired, but sitting on just enough C-bills to open a Bar. Smith figured he didn’t really give a damn about the place; it looked like **** and smelled worse, but it was Axel’s place; a place to tell nostalgic stories of his time; his wars gone by, but most importantly it was his place; a place to call his own. Smith wondered weather or not this was just what an old timer did when he ran out of fight and all his friends were dead; or if this was what you did when all your luck had run out, and you knew that next fight was going to be the last one. Most likely it was both. Smith wondered if he would live long enough to have a place of his own; maybe like this, maybe something else… but something. Right now just about anything was a lot more than what Smith had.
The Capacitor Lounge may have been a shithole, but it was Smith’s shithole; at least it had been for about three weeks now, but his bank account was drying up faster than his glass, and that first big payment would be due to Tharkad First Mutual in a week or so. If the last three weeks had taught anything is was that being an out of work mech jock cost way too much money. A month ago Smith had been a Lance Commander in Ronda Snord’s Irregulars, but ten years in hadn’t gotten him much; all he had to show was Sidekick; his highly modified Hunchback HBK-4H, a nice letter of reference, and a little beer money. Soon the beer money would be gone, and he’d have to figure out what to do for work. The Dracs would have called him Ronin. Ronin, ha! He felt more like a bum with Battlemech; nothin’ more. Tomorrow he’d be broke, but that was tomorrow; tonight he was going to party like it was 2999.
“Gauge my good man; beer me up!” Smith yelled, as he saddled up to the bar.
“I’ll be right vit you Herr Schmitt, I ave another patron.” Gauge’s German accent was thick like molasses on a cold day.
“What! Another customer in this **** hole? I’ll believe that when the Dracs role in, and open a ******’ tea house!” Smith shouted.
“Ja… it’s ard to believe, but I am afraid Herr Komiker ear ordered first, and he tips much better than you do… ven you tip at all Herr Shmit.” Gauge gestured to a tall thin man with short dark hair wearing the unmistakable leather jacket of a Mechwarrior.
“’Mr. Comedian’ what the **** kind of name is that?” Smith yelled across the room, to the stranger at the bar.
“It’s Joker, *******, and it’s a call sign,” the stranger said.
“Oh! Well I beg your apologies great Mechwarrior!” replied Smith sarcastically. “I meant no offence.” He said without meaning it. Smith didn’t care for just anybody walking into his watering hole, only to get in his way when he ordered a drink.
“You should show some respect guy. I’ve killed better men than you for less” Joker’s words were cold and sharp, the words of a killer.
“Alright, alright, vent some coolant bro.” “I’m not looking for any fights tonight.” “Names’ Smith… well that’s my call sign anyway.” He walked over to Joker and held out his hand. Smith was the kind of guy who could act like a complete *******, and still make friends. It was a special kind of gift the kind most people wanted but almost none actually had.
“So Joker dude, you some noble man’s lap dog, or do you kill people for money like the rest of us on Outreach?”
“I‘m a… I was a Lance Commander in Snord’s Irregulars; until a few weeks ago anyway.” Joker’s words were heavy with shame; his service with the Irregulars had meant a lot to him.
“No ****! Those ******** just laid me off too; and after ten years of faithful service no less!” Smith’s excitement was almost inappropriate considering Joker’s obvious regret. He knew others had been let go, but he didn’t think he’d run into anybody; most people had families on Clinton to go home to. “So how the heck is it I don’t know you?”
“I was a Lance Commander; third battalion, second company, recon lance” Joker said.
“That’s crazy. I was a Lance Commander also; first battalion, third company, attack lance.” “Wow… it sure was a big regiment wasn’t it?”
“It was.”
“Recon lance eh, what’d you drive?”
“I picked up a Jenner in 39’ I’ve been in it ever since.”
“Vega?”
“Yeah that was my first milk run. I started out in a Spider but it got pretty messed up the night before that big counter assault; a lance of scouts pushed our sector. I managed to drop two of them so command gave me choice of the salvage.”
“Damn Dracs popped my cherry there too; I was just a scarred kid, but I managed to come home with all my fingers and toes.”
“Some didn’t” the inflection in Jokers voice changed just a little.
“You’re tellin’ me; I thought I’d never make it back into that Overlord.”
“I guess Ronda’s first fighting retreat worked out better for some than others.” Joker laughed; it was a strange kind of laugh; not a happy one. Dark humor was a coping mechanism for a lot of vets, but it seemed to power Joker like a fusion reactor.
“Dracs put up a hell of a fight, didn’t they? Everything else seems almost tame after that” Smith said.
“That was a real war; everything after that was just glorified rent-a-cop action.”
“Were you on Callison for that corporate job last November?” Smith asked.
“No; third battalion got left behind on that one. Why, did you go? I heard there were a couple real gun fights.”
“Yeah I was there. Those Marik raiders were third rate, but it was still a good time. I dropped an entire lance when they tried to pull out. The ******* idiots had this tendency to turn and run straight away. Damn those were some easy targets.”
“You’d shoot a man in the back?” Joker chuckled as he said it.
“You wouldn’t?”
“I’m a scout; I’ll put fire anywhere I can before I have to run my ******* of there.”
Gauge interrupted with fresh drinks. The Lyran beer was cold, and the war stories when on for hours. The lack of windows created this strange time machine effect in a place like the Capacitor Lounge.
“So did you take the buyout option when you left?” Joker asked.
“I did. They only wanted two, point five mil for my Hunchy. You can’t just walk away from that… can you?”
“You can’t. But you probably should have” Joker smirked.
“What, you think I can’t make the payments?”
“With work as scarce as it’s been lately I don’t think any of us can make the payments.”
“I’ll worry about work in the morning” said Smith.
“It is morning” Joker responded.
“Well ****; now I’m **** drunk, dead broke, and hungry. Maybe I’ll go down to the spaceport, and just hang out on Sidekicks foot with a cardboard sign that says have battlemech will travel”
“You know Smith; we probably aren’t the only guys in town short on work” Joker said.
“I know! That only complicates the whole getting a job thing.”
“No, no, what I’m saying is; we could find a couple more half rate, out of work pilots, and form our own company.”
“You really think a couple of Irregular has-beens can put together a MRB rated company in a week, while hung over?”
“It worked for the brothers Kell” Joker laughed.
“**** it I’m in. It was that or prostitution anyway.”








Rio Grande Space Port Harlech Outreach April 11^th 3049
Harlech’s spaceport was a seemingly unending field of ferrocrete, gantry cranes, and communications towers. Smith watched through the window as a giant Overlord dropship slowly fell from the purple orange evening sky on a huge plum of golden fusion fire. Below the window, loader mechs worked loading and unloading creates, and stillage’s destined for worlds throughout the Inner Sphere.
The executive lounge above concourse C was a much nicer bar than Smith was used to. Joker had even forced him to buy a tie for the occasion. If things had been different Smith thought; this might have actually been a good place to pick up chicks. Harlech’s spaceport was one of the best places in the city to meet people and people where exactly what Joker and Smith needed right now.
If a guy wanted to create his own job in the mercenary trade he needed a number of things; all of which came back to the people who could provide them. The first thing you would need were other Mercenaries, one and two man armies are great for action holovids, but on the real battlefield you wouldn’t last more than a few minutes without a good group of lance mates. The next thing you needed was equipment; mainly spare parts and ammunition. Sidekick’s class five ultra autocannon wasn’t going to feed itself, and Smith didn’t know any pilots who could get in a fight and come back without any need of repairs. So of course you also needed a support staff to load that ammunition and make those repairs. After that you needed a job to do, but before you could get one you needed to be registered, certified, and rated with Comstar’s Mercenary Review Board or MRB. Without these guys say so you couldn’t get a real job anywhere in the Inner Sphere. There was always illegal or gray market work in the periphery, but that wouldn’t pay the bills nearly as well as a cakewalk guard job for the Federated Commonwealth.
It had been one week since Smith and Joker had first met at the Capacitor Lounge, and they were only now beginning to realize the full scope of their undertaking. They had set up meetings with ten possible Mechwarriors, three potential; corporate investors, and a low level assistant to one of the greatest arms dealers in the Inner Sphere. It had been a long but not very productive day.
“So how exactly are you a qualified battlemech pilot?” Joker asked.
“Well I’ve spent time in the simulators. And I’ve got three years with the active reserve for house Davion” Bowman replied.
“So what was the name of this reserve unit, and what exactly did you do in it?”
“Well… I was in the 13^th logistical support unit, New Avalon Crucis March Militia… reserve. It was the only unit on Victoria where I grew up. I was a… well… a cook actually” Bowman said.
“You know we’re looking for Mechwarriors, not cooks” Smith said.
“I think we’ve heard enough. We’ll let you know when we need a cook” Joker said.
Bowman got up and left.
“That’s the third damned wannabe mech jock in a row!” Smith’s frustration was obvious. “Who would have thought that there were so many ******** on Outreach clamming to be Mechwarriors when the only time they have behind the controls was playing children’s arcade games.”
“Well that first guy wasn’t half bad.”
“His call sign was Bone Collector” Smith said. “Do you really want to work with a guy who calls himself the bone collector?”
“Beggars can’t be choosers’ dude” Joker replied.
“No, Mr. Smith they cannot.” agreement came from a very tall, extremely well-dressed woman with dark brown hair, standing near the entrance. Her white evening gown looked like it cost as much as an Atlas, but was easily twice as intimidating.
“You don’t look like our seven o’clock” Smith said.
“Why? Because I’m not dressed like a Mechwarrior; or because I’m not a man; either way it doesn’t matter, I met your seven o’clock at the door… I turned him away. Believe me, he only would have wasted your time” she said.
“To whom may I ask do we have the pleasure of speaking with?” Joker asked.
“Names are of such little importance in this line of work Mr. Joker.” She looked at her own reflection in the mirror behind the bar. “You can call me Ms. White. I came here to represent a number of interests. To start with, the two of you have quite a lot of individual debt with Tharkad First Mutual, but you happen to be in luck. You see Tharkad First Mutual has been looking for an opportunity to make an investment in the Mercenary market for some time.”
“What does that mean for us?” Smith asked
“Well Mr. Smith what that means is this. Tharkad First Mutual with renegotiate the terms of your loans and compile the two you have into one easy payment. They are also willing to extend a corporate credit line to the two of you at a very competitive rate. In exchange Tharkad First Mutual will be your sole provider of financial services and they will hold a ten percent share of your company’s value. Oh, and by the way they will hold off on your bill until after you have completed your first contract.”
“Ms. White we really appreciate the offer, it sounds like a great deal, but if we can’t find some pilots worth their salt, we won’t have a company for your banker friends to finance.”
Ms. White asked the waiter for three bottles of Terran spring water then sat down at their table. She didn’t ask permission. She didn’t need to. Smith got the impression that if she wanted to she could buy the entire spaceport then close it for her own amusement. Smith had never had Terran anything before; the label on the bottle was Italian. Smith could only make out that the company was established in 1917. He wondered if you could really taste the difference between water from one planet and another. He was sure he couldn’t tell the difference; but it was still really good… for water.
“They used to say that this water had special healing properties; back on Terra, a very long time ago. The town’s people would bathe in it, hoping the magic water would heal their wounds; sometimes it did… I told you that I represent a number of interests.” She paused again to stare into her water.
“You two aren’t the only out of work Mercenaries on Outreach right now” she said. "There are actually many more just like you. Other organizations have let people go too. I don’t know all the where’s, and whys, but I know there was thought behind it, intention even. I believe you were set loose on the Inner Sphere to gain experience. These are peaceful day’s boys, but they won’t last. Peace has a way of disappearing overnight.”
“I thought Snord’s was the only large Merc unit laying people off right now” Smith said.
“I’m afraid not Mr. Smith, the Wolves have also been letting people go.” She responded “I’m keeping my eyes open for others as well”
“Why let people go if you have an interest in keeping talented pilots?” Joker asked
“Maybe these companies have become too large… too big to fail. Maybe they have loyalties to certain political entities. Maybe they want young pilots out there doing the work they can’t. Gaining the experience needed for the next real war. Maybe; just maybe, they know where the next war will be, what it will be.
“So these talented pilots you were speaking of; where exactly can we find them?” Smith asked
“I’ll make sure you find them; that is of course, if we have a deal.”
“What sort of deal?”
“I’m an agent Mr. Smith; I’d like to be your agent.”
“We’re Mechwarriors, not holovid stars Ms. White” Joker smiled.
“And that’s exactly why you need an agent.” She looked around the executive lounge. “This isn’t your world… It’s mine.”
“So what’s an agent in this business cost?” Smith asked
“Nothing right now Mr. Smith. But my fee is fifteen percent off the top on every contract completed.”
“What about contracts not completed” Joker asked
“Well this early on in your carrier failing or breaking a contract would be the end of you; if you’re lucky.”
“And if we’re not?”
“Well then someone will have to travel to take possession of your remains” She said. “I charge extra for that.”
Smith turned to Joker. “I like her. Can we keep her? Can we Joker? Please.”
“Fifteen percent’s a lot of money. Can you guaranty us well paid contracts, and a pass from Comstar’s MRB as well?” Joker asked
“Joker darling let me worry about the details; just head over to the Wolf’s Dragoons club next to the privet mech stables on the other side of town. There are some men there that you need to meet with.”
“I don’t think they’d let us in.” Smith added
“Tell the door man that Catherine sent you.”
“So our agents name is Catherine White?” Joker asked.
“No, it’s Catherine Valencia. I’m sorry but I don’t like to drop names, my own included.”
“Valencia; like the New Valencia, Valencia’s?” Smith asked
“The very same” She said. “See why I don’t like to prematurely drop names.”
“Well I think we’re in capable hands.” Smith added “Joker my good friend we have a Dragoons’ party to crash.”
“I guess we do.” Joker agreed

Wolf’s Den Night Club Harlech Outreach April 11^th 3049
Smith had to give it to them. The Wolf’s Dragoons owned this world, and when they built a place to party they did damn fine job. Lights flashed, and strobed, like lasers in a fire fight. The thud of base was a constant pounding that shock the floor. Catherine was right; the door man let them right in, which was awesome because the Wolf’s Den was most definitely the kind of place you went to pick up chicks. Not the kind of chicks you took home to meet your mother. No these were more like the kind of woman that you would have bragged to your buddies about; if you hadn’t spent every c-bill in your wallet for the privilege. Joker had already remarked that it looked like they had girls in here from every corner of the Inner Sphere, and more than a few from the periphery, but pretty girl’s aside; there was still business to attend to The two men Catherine had sent them to meet where sitting at a large table on the upper level, overlooking the dance floor.
Smith offered a hand and introduced them “Good evening gentlemen I’m Smith; this is my associate Joker. We were told that you two were looking for some work.”
“Might be” said a short bulky man at the head of the table. The tattoos on his head, neck , and arms told the story of a guy that had spent a long time in Wolf’s Dragoons.
“Joker and I got let go form Snord’s Irregulars a few weeks ago. We are looking for pilots to form an independent operation.”
“I’m Bull, this here’s Colt; we were with the Dragoons. Things got slow, they sent us packing.” The large man said.
“We’re in the same boat then” Joker said.
“What makes you think we’ll be able to find any work, on our own?” The young Asian man previously referred to as Colt said. “If big name ‘A’ rated units like Snord’s Irregulars, or the Wolf’s Dragoons can’t get any contracts what makes you think we will.
“We have the same concerns; but after looking into it we’ve found that the big names are so locked into their long term interests serving the house governments that they are actually passing up smaller corporate jobs. Basically they are all waiting for a real war. We just want the cash, and there is still plenty of money to be made out there if you know where to look” Joker answered.
“So you’re telling me that we got **** canned for a lack of work that doesn’t exist?” Bull snapped.
“Yeah, that’s how it is” Smith said.
“Well **** me” Bull added “I’m not ready to be done yet. I’ve got a lot more fight left in me, and the kid here, he’s just getting started.”
“Good; it sounds like we have your attention then. We need pilots or this isn’t going to happen. What sort of pilots are you, and do you have your own mechs?”
Bull responded for the both of them. “I was a Lance commander; Beta Regiment, Charlie Battalion, Third Company, Second Lance. We specialized in indirect fire support. Colt was our rookie. They made us an offer to buy our mechs on the cheap, so I took it, but Colt here didn’t.”
“What’d you ride?” Smith asked “Oh and how much do you owe?
“I’m a Catapult driver. They wanted four point five million for it. I knew I wouldn’t get that kind of deal anywhere else so I took it.”
“We can work with that” Joker said. “Who has your loan?”
“New Avalon Capital Partners” Bull responded.
Joker turned to Smith. “You think we can convince our Lyran banker friends to buy up that loan?”
“I’ve got no idea, but I bet we know someone who does.” Smith replied “So rookie, what’s your story?”
“I was born on Kittery in 3025. When I was eighteen I joined up with the 1st Kittery Training Battalion. They made me a Mechwarrior, after that I did my time in the 1^st Kittery Borderers; after four years in I hadn’t seen any action so I applied with the Dragoons. I thought I’d see some of the real deep ****, but after a year of good training they started letting people go. I guess they didn’t want me anymore. I didn’t take the offer for that Trebuchet because I didn’t think I would be able to make the payments and because… well I really didn’t like the Trebuchet. I was a Cicada pilot on Kittery.”
“Well heck the kids got more brains then any of us ********.” Joker laughed “Can’t make the payments. That cautious instinct will do you well son.”
“We can find a battlemech… I think.” Smith said “Tell me Colt did you miss that gun on the Cicada while you were riding around in that underweight missile boat?” Smith asked
“Yes sir”
“Direct fire, direct action, your my kind of Mechwarrior son” Smith said. “We’ll find you something with a gun don’t worry.”
“I appreciate that sir” said Colt
“Son, I’m not sure this is the kind of unit where you get to call anybody sir” Smith replied
“Sorry sir… I mean Smith”
“Well if that’s all of the business for this meeting, I say we get some drinks.” Joker added “It’s been a very long day, and I’m very thirsty.”
“Joker my good man I couldn’t agree more” Smith answered “You two sticking around for some beers?” Smith gestured to his new lance mates.
“I can’t think of a reason not to” said Bull. He turned to Colt “You in Kid?” Colt nodded. Before long it was morning and the door man was pushing them out into the street.
The sun was just cresting the horizon when they exited the Wolf’s Den. David Cameron Boulevard was still asleep, but within an hour or so the street would be packed with morning commuters. Sleep was a luxury Smith, and Joker could not afford. They were still a bit drunk, but they had work to do.

Wolf’s Dragoons Supply Depot S13
Remus Outback
Outreach
April 12^th 3049
John was a short, balding, middle aged man, of unknown origin, who could be tracked around the galaxy by the unusual cigarette butts he left behind. The bark brown filters could be found on the grounds of bases and supply depots belonging to every military force large or small. Jon was a business man; the kind that traveled the Inner Sphere collecting used arms and ammunition that the House militaries didn’t want anymore. Just a few years ago the Successor Lords would never have sold even a single round of ammunition, but with the recent resurgence of lostech and almost ten years of peace to build their armies the older stocks were being auctioned off to the highest bidder; more often than not, that bidder was John. Today he was loading dropship with surplus long range missiles, at the Wolf’s Dragoons central ammo dump on the Remus continent of Outreach. Smith and Joker had caught an early morning flight to Wolf HQ. The last four hours had done them well. Sobriety went a long way in doing business with arms dealers.
“So you’re looking for a medium battlemech; spare parts for a Catapult, Hunchback, and Jenner, and enough ammo to burn a major city to the ground. Is there anything else I can get for you?” Maybe some command and control vehicles, or a mobile field repair gantry. I also have a contact with access to some of the latest in recovered lostech weapons. You guys like pulse lasers, or gauss rifles, or extended range anything? Anyway you two know who to ask, if you do.” John made a note on his data pad as an industrial exoskeleton loaded another container of long range missiles into a large freight container sitting on a flatbed cargo hauler.
“Well my hunchy already has more than a few tons of lostech inside, but I’ve heard those pulse lasers really kick ***” said Smith
“I’ve already got them on my Jenner. I wouldn’t trade them for anything” Joker added.
“Well I can see you boys know your stuff, and I don’t think you would settle for anything less than the best tech available. According to my trusty note book here I have a good selection of medium mechs available, but I don’t have anything on this rock. I’ll give you a good deal on shipping but it won’t be free.” John handed the data pad to Smith who looked at the list of available chassis before handing it to Joker.
“We should consult our pilot before making a deal” said Joker.
“Well I’m here through the end of the week. After that I’m on Solaris for two weeks, and then I’m on my way out to the Periphery to meet with some less than honorable individuals. I have no idea when I’ll make it back from that one. “
“We’ll give him a call.” Joker said
Smith and Joker walked away leaving John to tend to his loading. The exoskeleton’s servos whined under the weight of the missile containers. John made a note on his data pad; then lit a cigarette.
They didn’t have to go far to find a quiet place to make a phone call. The outback was massive, and between installations there was little more than scrub and some lizards. The phone rang out on speaker… Colt picked up.
“Hello.”
“Hey Colt, its Smith and I’ve got Joker here with me.”
“Oh; hey guys, how’s it going? I was just sleeping off the beers from last night”
“It’s going; we have a lead on some Battlemechs for you.”
“Really, already, that’s awesome! What kind?”
“Well there are a few to choose from. In our price range, we could get an Assassin, Cicada, Hunchback, Centurion, or Crab. Any of those sound good to you?” Smith asked
“Well, I started out as a Cicada pilot, and I really liked it, but I’ve also learned a lot about fire support in the Dragoons… If it’s up to me, I think I’d like the Centurion. I mean, if it’s good enough for Justin Allard then it’s good enough for me.”
“That sounds like a good choice to me” Joker said “Smith, do you have any objections?”
Smith paused for a second, thinking about how well a Catapult, a Hunchback, a Centurion, and a Jenner would work as a lance, then said “I think that will work great, so long as the kid here doesn’t start thinking of himself as the next great Solaris champion.”
“I won’t”
“Good; because we won’t ever want to scrape you out of that cockpit with a spatula and a scrub brush.”
“Alright kid, we’ll come find you as soon as it’s delivered so you can take it out and see how it handles.”
“Thank you, sirs!” Colts excitement was audible.
“Go back to sleep Colt; we’ll talk to you sooner than later.” Smith hung up. He knew there was no more sleep for Colt today. He’d spend the coming days reading everything he could on the Centurion Battlemech. He’d learn about its development and combat uses, about the weapons it carried, and the weapons it could carry with future upgrades. They say you only fall in love once, but for a Mechwarrior every time you’re assigned a new battlemech you fall in love all over again.
The two walked back towards John in silence; they could both remember being in Colt’s shoes. What it was like to pick your own battlemech for the first time. The excitement of real battles to come, but also how that excitement could turn to stark terror in the face of the enemy, and how that terror could get you killed. So many young warriors only fought once. On Vega back in 39; the life expectancy of a rookie pilot was only four minutes. Smith, and Joker had managed to survive those first four minutes; many of their friends had not. The real question was whether or not Colt could do the same; because sooner or later, he’d find himself in the really deep ****.
“So you make up your mind on those chassis?” John called to them as they approached.
“We want that Centurion chassis.” Joker answered
“An excellent choice” John said. “I’ll make arrangements for shipping as soon as I’m off the boat on Solaris. You know that chassis has three wins in the urban arena on the medium circuit” John added.
“That’s interesting, why is it for sale?” Smith asked
“Because it has one lose” John added his voice somber
“You can send the bill to Tharkad First Mutual.” Joker said before they turned to leave, suddenly reminded of the dangers inherent to their profession.
John waved then off; lit a cigarette, and made a note on his data pad; servos whined.

Edited by The Smith, 03 October 2012 - 01:06 PM.

[The Smith]

Financial District
Harlech
Outreach
April 15^th 3049
Catherine’s office was on the one hundred and thirteenth floor of a very tall building in downtown Harlech. Through the large windows Smith could see all the way out to the spaceport. The endless comings and goings of the city were fascinating. Dropships arrived and left every few minutes, the streets where packed with cars, trucks, and every other type of vehicle; the municipal maglev ran right through downtown on its way out to the spaceport and beyond. In the three days that had passed since their meeting with John, almost everything had come together. They had a lance of good pilots, three Battlemechs with another on its way from Solaris, and around a hundred tons of ammunition and spare parts; they still needed logistics and support staff, and more importantly they still needed approval and initial rating with Comstar’s MRB. When they arrived Catherine was on the phone.
“Yes, alright…. I can work on that… Well you’re going to have to up your offer, my people don’t work for free… yes I know they are untested, but they’re all very experience Mechwarriors… Okay I can live with that… Yes you have a nice day also… okay good bye.” She hung up the phone and turned to the two men waiting at the door.
“Smith, Joker, darlings, how are you? Are the preparations going well? How was John? Did he ask about me?” She asked
“I’d say we are holding up alright; the preparations are going well.” Joker answered “John was in good spirits, except the part about getting sent to the Periphery.” He added
“Why would he ask about you?” Smith asked
“We have a long and storied past, Mr. Smith. Anyway I have some great news for the two of you. I’ve secured you a contract with StarCorps Industries on Son Hoa. It seems that pirates from the Circinus Federation have been participating in cross border raids to steal war materials from StarCorps’ Battlemech production line. So far they’ve had very little success but they’ve kept up the pressure and the current mercenary garrison needs all the extra help they can get.”
“Who’s there now?” Smith asked
“A group called ‘Mobil Fire’” Catherine responded. “StarCorps Industries is bringing in as many small merc units as they can right now, and you guys fit their profile perfectly. Your repairs will be covered by StarCorps so you won’t need a support arm until after you get back.”
“So we can leave as soon as that Centurion chassis arrives?” Joker asked
“Well not quite.” Catherine added “We need to discuss an important addition to your staff.”
“Fives an odd number for lance Ms. Valencia” Smith said.
“The new hire isn’t a Mechwarrior… She’s a tactical command and control officer.”
“Look Ms. Valencia, we appreciate everything you’re doing for us; but in a lance with three lance commanders we hardly have use for a tactical over watch.” Smith responded
“And that’s exactly why you need one Mr. Smith. You’re all chiefs and no Indians as they used to say.”
“Joker man, back me up on this one” Smith demanded
“Sorry dude, I’m with her on this one. A tactical officer will help us digest battlefield information, and maintain unit cohesion. As a scout I like to know that the information I gather is going to good use.”
“Well if Joker needs a MechCommander to sleep at night I guess we can have one” Smith relented
“Good; her name is Yoshimi Watanabe, and she just finished her service as a ‘Tai-I’ or Captain with the First Sword of Light DCMS.”
“WHAT!” Smith’s rage was automatic; in his mind Dracs were for killing not talking orders from.
“Mr. Smith I understand your history with the Draconis Combine, but I’m afraid you’ll have to put that aside, for the betterment of this endeavor.”
“My history with the Dracs; you don’t know a ******** thing about my history with the ******* Dracs!”
“Actually Mr. Smith I do. I know everything about you; both of you actually.” She gestured to Joker “I know about Vega. I know what you saw, and did there. I know the names of friends you lost there. I even know about what happened to your father on Deshler. The fact is that I don’t care Mr. Smith. Your hatred of the Draconis Combine is understandable, but you’ll never make it in this industry if you can’t put your past, your politics, and your personal beliefs aside long enough to get paid. What if I had told you that we had a contract to act as House Kurita’s personal guard? Would you refuse it? Learn to hate everyone equally Smith; it pays better!”
“Oh, you know do you? Do you know what it’s like to like to grow up on a ******* ice ball without a father? Do you know what it’s like to be a nine year old at a military funeral? Do you know all about how my mother worked herself to death in a Germanium mine, because you can’t raise three kids on a Fed-Com Pension?” Smith paused; his anger was a white hot ball of fire behind his eyes. “But you don’t know **** because you’re whole life is just a pretty picture of a warm green world with big white castles and expensive hover cars. Have you ever been in a Germanium mine princes? No of course you haven’t.” Smith trailed off, calming he turned and left the room.
“Well that went well.” Catherine said.
“I’ll go talk to him” Joker said as he left the room.
Joker caught up to Smith by the elevators.
“Smith man; wait up!”
Smith stopped and turned around.
“Look dude, I’m not exactly a big fan of Dracs either, but you’ve got to cool down on this one. We need this; we need Catherine, and if she says we need this Yoshimi woman on our team; then we need her on our team. And face it, if the Dracs weren’t so damn good, we wouldn’t have much reason to hate them, now would we.”
Smith was still angry, but Joker was right. If he had to listen to this Drac ***** babble on the radio all day to get paid, well that was just what he would have to do. This was the life he chose, and it was a hell of a lot better than the mines back on Colorado.
“I guess you’re right.” Smith answered
“I’m sorry, about your parents that must’ve been hell”
“It was.”
“You never told me you’re from Colorado.”
“You never asked.”
“I guess you’re right; we still don’t know each other that well. So, you think we can just accept this whole TAC officer thing and just move on to the part where we get to shoot at stuff with our giant robots?”
Smith was calm now, and Joker was right; all he ever wanted to do was wreck **** up in his very own giant killer robot. So long as this ‘Yoshimi’ didn’t try to stop that, things would work out.
“Yeah a guess we can do that.”
“Cool”

Westside Stables
Harlech
Outreach
April 27^st 3049
The west side stables were located just outside the perimeter fence for the space port; four massive hangers which were once home to the local garrison forces, but now served as a place to store Battlemechs brought to the planet by mercenaries looking for work, or training. Smith, Joker, and Bulls mechs filled adjacent bays. A large cargo hauler drove in through the main entrance carrying a primer grey Centurion chassis. Smith, Joker, Bull, Colt, and Yoshimi Watanabe stood at foot of Jokers Jenner; watching as the giant hanger crane picked up the Centurion, and moved it into an empty repair bay next to them. Several technicians quickly set up a series of mechanical locks to hold the mech upright without power. One of the techs walked up to the group of waiting mercenaries.
“Howdy, names Chet” he said holding out his hand.
“I’m Smith, this here’s Joker, Bull, Colt, and Captain Watanabe” Smith said as he took the man’s hand. The rest of the group took turns shaking hands with Chet the tech.
“So; these are your Battlemechs then?” he said gesturing to the four massive combat vehicles.
“They are” Smith said. “That new one there is for my friend Colt here” Smith pointed to the young man who couldn’t take his eyes off the fifty ton killing machine with its pale grey primer finish.
Each of the four mechs was painted differently. Sidekick had been painted in dull grays for its last deployment on Callison’s moon Yngve. Joker’s Jenner was still painted in a khaki tan desert scheme; from a training mission in the outback deserts of Outreach. Bull’s Cat was painted in the distinctive emerald green of Wolf’s Dragoons Beta Regiment. They hardly looked like a unit, but before they left each would be repainted to better suit the environment on Son Hoa.
“Your agent called me yesterday. She said you needed these mechs striped, primed, painted, and MRB inspected before the end of work Friday.”
“We’re booked on a dropship for 0500 Monday morning.” Joker responded
“Well then; we’ll get these machines painted up for you ASAP; what color do you want them, and what’s the name of your lance?” Chet asked
Smith, Joker, and the other members of the team just stared at each other. Somehow this had never come up before. “Um?” was all anyone could say.
“You’ll need a name before the MRB will sign off on you or assign you a rating” Chet said.
“Damn… okay… well; maybe you could paint them up now, and we’ll get back to you with a name in an hour or so” Smith said
“Well we won’t be finished painting your mechs in an hour, but yeah that seems like a decent plan. What color do you want them?” Chet asked.
“I think we’re looking for a good temperate woodland camouflage.” “Is that something that you guys can do?”
“We do a half way decent splinter camo. I like to use use OD, Sage, and Brown. It should work for most temperate environments.”
“Everyone agree with woodland splinter?” Smith asked the group.
“I believe this would be a wise choice” Captain Watanabe’s response came first.
“Whatever keeps me hidden” Joker said.
“My mech’s green already” Bull shrugged
“I don’t care how it’s painted so long as it’s mine” was Colts response.
“Alright Chet my good man, looks like that’ll do; we’re going to find a place to talk this whole name thing over.” Smith said as they all turned towards the small side exit between Sidekick, and Bull’s Cat.
“There’s a pub a couple of blocks from here were we can get some beers” Bull said.
“Sounds like a great way to come up with a name” Joker chuckled.


Westside Brick and Brew
Harlech
Outreach
April 27^th 3049
The pub Bull brought them to was really more of a restaurant, but the food was good, and the atmosphere was great for a brainstorming session; dark, and quite. Everyone had at least some idea for how they thought the unit should be named. Colt started first.
“How about, the Colt Commandos?” he said.
"You want us to name our unit after its most inexperienced pilot?” Joker asked
“No, I want us to name our unit after an ancient sub machine gun I saw in a museum one time.”
“I think we’ll pass on that one” Smith said
“What about the Bulldogs?” came from Bull “Bulldogs are tough; we need a name that makes us sound tough!” he added
Smith, Joker, Colt, and Watanabe all looked at each other before answering in unison.
“NO!”
“What about the Regulators; you know… we regulate any stealing of his property. We damn good at it too. But you can’t be any geek off the street; gotta be handy with the steel if you know what I mean, earn your keep.” Joker said; then hummed a strange beat before he burst out laughing.
No one really knew what to say to that one.
“I’m not sure but I think The Regulators is already a unit” Smith said.
“Unit, more like a G-UNIT!” Joker yelled
“Um yeah… I think we’ll pass on that one”
Miss Watanabe piped up. Slowly, carefully, she said. “We are an Irregular unit… with ties to Snord’s Irregulars… Wolf’s Dragoons, and the world of Outreach.” “What about a name that contains some of that information like the Outreach Irregulars maybe?” she asked
There was a long pause as every member of the team thought about the name and what it meant to them. You could see the unspoken consensus on their faces.
Looking around at everyone Smith said “I think we have a name… Thank you Ms. Watanabe.”
“You honor me Mr. Smith” she responded.
Smith had only known Tai-i Watanabe for two days. She was a small woman with long dark hair, and a scar across her left eye. The eye appeared to be damaged somehow; but Smith wasn’t sure. If she had a problem seeing; she didn’t show it. She had a sort of understated grace, as if the universe moved around her and not the other way around. It was difficult to admit that he didn’t hate her; he really wanted to; he’d been doing his best not to talk to her, but she was intelligent, confident, and most importantly she was utterly competent. She was must have been a real loss to the DCMS and that sort of made Smith feel better about having her around. If they had to have a tactical officer she was clearly the MechCommander to have.
“No, Tai-I Watanabe you honor us” Smith responded
Jokers jaw just about hit the floor on that one. He collected himself before thanking Watanabe for the name.
“He’s right Captain we’re all honored to have you with us, and I think everyone would agree that the Outreach Irregulars owe you their name.”
“Here, here” Bull said as he raised his glass in a toast. “To the Outreach Irregulars; may we live long, and win many battles!”
“Here, here” everyone said as they raised their glasses.
Smith ran back over to the stables to tell Chet, while Joker got on the phone and called Catherine. They had a name now everyone needed to know it. Catherine could finish their paper work with Comstar’s MRB, and Chet could stencil the name on each of the four Battlemechs, along with some kind of battlefield identifier.

[dal10]

just going to say this WALL OF TEXT.....

also good story, and a expected lifetime of 4 minutes... wtf where they doing. also on the 4th to last line, it should be loss not lose. sorry, grammar **** in me was acting up again...

[The Smith]

Rio Grande Space Port
Harlech
Outreach
May 1^st 3049
Everyone arrived at the spaceport early. Smith arrived second to find Captain Watanabe standing alone by the Leopard class dropship that StarCorps Industries had sent to bring them to Son Hoa. It wasn’t the largest dropship in the universe but it was perfect for a single lance. Someone had painted Beautiful Brick just under the cockpit glass. The jagged StarCorps Industries Fed-Com logo was displayed across the main cargo doors. The ships technical crew could be seen moving around under the landing gear removing hoses, cables, and safety flags. Soon they would begin the massive fusion engines warm up sequence; before removing the chalks. Soon they’d be on their way off of Outreach; out into the black. Watanabe had a large olive drab plastic suitcase with DCMS markings in one hand and a small animal in the other. The creature was vaguely dog like; it was very small with the largest ears Smith had ever seen.
“Who’s your little friend?” Smith asked as he walked up behind her.
Watanabe seem startled as she turned to face him. “Mr. Smith, my apology’s I did not hear your approach.”
“That’s okay, I’m sorry I had no intention startle you.”
“This is Inuyasha. He is a fennec fox; a parting gift from my sister before I left the Combine.”
“People don’t normally leave the Combine do they?”
“No, it’s not very common “she answered.
“What convinced you to do it?”
“There was nothing left for me in the DCMS. There was no way for me to gain honor for my family; except to marry, and have children.”
“You were a Tai-I in the First Sword of Light. That’s not enough honor for your family?”
“I was a Mechwarrior with the Fifth Amphigean Light Assault Group before that My entire life up until then had been training. When I was very young I convinced my father that the best way for me to serve the Dragon was as a Mechwarrior; without any sons he embraced the idea that his daughter could serve the Coordinator, but I was defeated in battle on Vega. Afterwards I was no longer able to pilot a Battlemech; so I was reassigned to work as a command and control operator.”
Smith was well beyond shocked. All he could do was listen to her. All those years; and there was the enemy standing right there in front of him; except she wasn’t the enemy anymore. She was something else now, a coworker… a friend even. Smith cursed himself for making friends so easily. How the hell was it that he could actually feel bad for her? The Fifth Amphigean LAG was the enemy on Vega. They had killed so many of the other rookie pilots; so many friends he had trained with; so many older guys he looked up to.
“That’s a tough break” was all he could think to say. “What happened? Why can’t you pilot a mech anymore?” he asked
“I was on a recon raid; we had been dropped into the night by a Leopard much like this one.” She pointed to the beautiful brick. “Except that ours had been totally refit for special operations, and painted in matte black radar absorbent materials; we called it ‘Black Lotus’. We must have been twenty or thirty clicks out beyond the front line… I remember that it dark, so very dark; like the sunny had gone down on the every system in the Inner Sphere. Our assignment was to test the defenses around Cosby Myomer’s R&D facility. I had a Jenner, Locust, and Mongoose out in front of me about five hundred meters. My Dragon was the firepower for that lance. My lance mates crested this big hill and disappeared. I followed; running up the hill full tilt. That’s when Gunjin Sato screamed contact over the radio. I crested the hill; to a surreal landscape of laser light, and muzzle flash. Your Snord’s Irregulars had put out a recon lance to patrol the facility that night. Afterwards; I must have watched that battle ROM a thousand times. I know the engagement only lasted four minutes forty three seconds; but it felt like hours, maybe even days. I watched Gunjin Sato’s Locust go up like a roman candle when something punched his SRM bin. He never punched out; I still hear him screaming sometimes; on dark nights, alone. I was all the way over the hill now. I joined the fight with everything I had. I can still remember my LRM lock blaring in my ears as I dumped round after round out of my autocannon; I connected with a Flea; a light shone brightly in darkness as the little machine came apart at the seams, then dropped to the ground. Looking out from my cockpit I found the night lit by the burning corpses of my friends, and enemies. I watched as a very talented Spider pilot finished off Gunjin Eto’s Mongoose; without pause he turned and put a medium laser right through the cockpit of Gunsho Nakamura’s Jenner. I got a lock on him and fired with everything I had; a mix of long range missiles and autocannon fire hit him. His armor was light; one of his legs came off. I remember the way he fell; tumbling out of control into a stand of trees. I turned towards a Cicada, just in time to watch an autocannon round bounce up off my dragon’s center torso. It exploded with a bright flash as it hit my cockpit glass. It happened so fast; my career was over in an instant. A piece of Ferro-carbonate from my shattered cockpit came back and hit me in the head. I lost the vision in my left eye, and my inner ear was damaged. The loss of depth perception, along with acute vertigo has kept me out of the cockpit ever since.”
Smith didn’t know what to say. He had so many questions; but he didn’t want to pry any further into her personal life. More than anything else he wanted to know if Joker had been that Spider pilot. Just then Joker arrived with Bull, and Colt. He decided to drop the subject for now.
The group watched as loader mechs and cargo haulers moved Battlemechs, spare parts, and ammunition into the Beautiful Brick. The process took almost half an hour; as they finished the five Outreach Irregulars boarded the vessel and made their way to the guest quarters. The Brick came off the ferrocrete of runway one right on time at 0500. After three days at a one G burn they docked with a waiting Starlord jumpship at the Zenith recharge station; then in the blink of an eye the Outreach Irregulars had left Outreach behind.




Beautiful Brick
Zenith Jump Point
Madiun System
Federated Commonwealth
August 3^rd 3049
Smith sat on his bunk in the guest quarters of the Beautiful Brick; waiting. Outside the Jumpship was charging; they’d been in the Madiun system for six days now, but soon they’d make that last jump, and this trip would be behind him. Smith hated space travel. The jumps made him sick to his stomach, and the waiting gave him too much time to think. He’d done his best to put the time to good use; spending the last three months getting to know every member of his team just a little better between jumps.
He’d learned more about Bull’s combat record with the Dragoons. The man was an excellent tactician and they’d worked together in coming up with some future lance strategies. He’d learned about the Kittery Training Academy, and how Justin Allard had saved the first class of cadets from a Capellan attack. He learned how one of those cadets had gone on the teach Colt when he was in training there. He’d even learned that Joker had been that spider pilot on Vega. But he never told Joker or Watanabe what he knew. Maybe something’s were better left unsaid. Mostly he’d learned that he enjoyed spending time with Yoshimi Watanabe. He wasn’t sure what that meant, and he had no idea what to do about it, but he knew it was true.
In the corner an alarm sounded over the loud speaker; a warning that the ship was about to jump. Smith turned to lie down; it was normally easier that way; then, without warning, they jumped, and for just an instant his guts where thirty light years away. Smith threw up. The PA announced arrival in the Son Hoa system. Finally; Smith thought, as he picked himself up and stumbled to the small restroom.

Beautiful Brick
Nadir Jump Point
Son Hoa System
Federated Commonwealth
August 3^rd 3049
Smith took a shower and brushed his teeth before making his way down to the galley. The rest of his team was gathered around a small table next to the door. They still had a five and a half day trip to the surface, but at least they were in system.
“You’re all green in the gills there Smith” Bull said as he approached.
Smith sat down at the table before responding. “So I’m the only one happy to be done with all those jumps?”
“I hate um too man” was Jokers response.
Colt chimed in with “I just don’t understand what people don’t like about it. One second you’re in one place and the next you’re light years away… I think it’s cool.”
Watanabe looked paler then usual but if she was sick she wasn’t going to say anything about it. After a long moment she said
“We are on our way to the current rendezvous point. The customer should be sending orders along to us in route.”
“Straight to business then, alright Captain.” Smith replied “Are we all ready to disembark under combat conditions? For all we know the whole planet’s been overrun by bandits and we have to make an orbital insertion during the night to catch them be surprise.” Colt, and Joker burst out laughing, even Bull had a smirk on his face. Watanabe was less impressed. Smith suddenly remembered her story about the night time insertion behind enemy lines. “I’m so ready to be off this ship; I’d be happy to take Sidekick sky diving from orbit” he said. After more than three months in the Leopard they all needed some fresh air. “I look forward to more information on our upcoming mission Captain; thank you.”
“As I understand, we will be briefed by StarCorps Industries as soon as we make planet fall as to what sort of work we will be doing.”
“Sounds great” Joker said as he poured himself a cup of stale coffee.
They all sat around drinking coffee and playing cards for the next couple hours. Joker told some great stories about life on Kentares. Eventually they all went their separate ways.


StarCorps Industries Assembly Complex B
Son Hoa
Federated Commonwealth
August 9^th 3049 (Local Fall)
When the Outreach Irregulars arrived on Son Hoa, it was raining. Autumn had just started to set in; it rained almost constantly during this time of year on Son Hoa. Meanwhile the days were getting shorter and colder. Soon the Vanishing Sea would be full again and winter storms would batter the coast with freezing rain, and snow.
StarCorps Industries Son Hoa production complex B was a sprawling factory network on the north shore of the Vanishing Sea. Complex B was so large that it had its own small space port; with runways and landing pads for dropships, as well as hangers for aircraft, Battlemechs, and other vehicles. There was also on site housing for a labor force thousands strong. The Irregulars were greeted at the dropship by a well-dressed Lyran man well into middle age.
“Guten tag, my name is Heinrich Decker, and I will be your chief liaison officer to StarCorps Industries. We have set up accommodations for you right here at this facility next to Complex B.” He pointed to a large hanger near the end of the runway. “If there is anything I can do to make your stay more enjoyable please let me know and I will do my best to assist you.”
“Are you going to brief us on objectives?” Joker asked.
“You will be fully briefed on our situation by Sgt. Benson from Mobile Fire.”
As the dropship taxied towards their new home Smith could see multiple loader mechs, and industrial exoskeletons moving across the runway to empty it. The hanger was huge; way more space than they really needed, and a blessing after months trapped in that tiny space brick. There were twenty mech bays on the main floor. With additional space for living quarters, and working spaces located on the second level. Lastly a command and control room was located in a small observation tower that rose over the north eastern corner of the building. With the rest of the complex off to the south west across the ferrocrete runways, and landing pads the hanger felt like a distant castle overlooking an ancient city.
StarCorps employees wasted little time; moving the Irregular’s Battlemechs, ammunition and spares into the hanger with an almost robotic efficiency. The Irregulars found their respective quarters, before meeting up in a large conference room on the second floor. It was a corner room, with large windows that looked out over Son Hoa’s green landscape.
“So; this will be our briefing room then” Smith said as he looked at the other Irregulars around the large conference table.
“Looks like the best place for the job” Joker responded
“Anybody know what it is we are going to be doing here?” Bull asked
“From what we’ve been told this facility has been attacked several times over the last six months or so.” Watanabe answered
“I thought StarCorps had their own security” Colt said.
“They do; plus a whole regiment of Mercs called ‘Mobile Fire’ but they’re stretched pretty thin. As I understand it, there are actually nine separate factory complexes on Son Hoa. It looks like we have Complex B, one the assembly centers.”
“I wonder what they assemble” Smith said.
“I know they make Warhammer, and King Crab Battlemechs here; there are also complexes that make electronics, armor, fusion engines, and all of the other stuff you need to make a giant killer robot work” Joker responded. “I heard they also rebuild Highlanders out of old damaged or destroyed ones.
“Maybe they can give us a discount on another lance” Bull added
Two men entered through the double doors to the conference room. One was medium height and wore a light grey StarCorps Industries jump suit. The other was tall and wore cargo shorts, a t shirt, and a Mechwarriors’ cooling vest. The man in the jump suit spoke first.
“Good evening, I’m managing officer Gonzales with StarCorps Security Services” he said “This is Sgt. Benson from Mobile Fire” he pointed to the man standing next to him.
Watanabe responded for the group.
“I’m Captain Watanabe; this is Smith, Joker, Bull, and Colt. We are the Outreach Irregulars.”
“It’s a pleaser to meet you all.” Gonzales responded “We’ve come to brief you on your assignment; as well as what resources will be made available to your command while you’re here.”
“We have been looking forward to it” Watanabe answered.
“Good” Benson said before continuing. “Welcome to complex B. This is where brand new Warhammer Battlemechs are assembled for the Lyran side of the Federated Commonwealth. Over the last seven months this and other complexes on Son Hoa have been attacked by an as yet unidentified group of pirates’ most likely coming out of the Circinus Federation. They only attack at night; and they normally only drop in lance to company sized groups. I hope you don’t mind the night shift, because that’s when we need you. Every night you will go out on a combat patrol, looking for any suspicious activity; especially any dropship flares. We know that they operate at least one Union type vessel. You will have limited support from StarCorps Security Services; also Mobile Fire has an artillery fire base within range of this AO. If things get really bad we also have a rapid reaction force available. Unfortunately it’s forty clicks out so we may not get to you in time to be much help. I’ll be going out with you guys tonight, to show you the patrol route, after that you’re on your own up here. I think that’s just about everything… oh wait; one more thing. It’s going to get cold up here. I mean really cold. Come winter the vanishing sea is going to magically reappear. Then it’s going to fill with ice water; that means freezing rain, sleet, and snow daily! I trust you’ve all had experience with arctic operations; just thought I’d give you a heads up… Officer Gonzales do you have anything?”
“Yes, thank you. We have a small contingent here to defend the facility. We don’t have Battlemechs, but we do have several armed industrial and security-mechs, as well as some vehicles, and around a company of well-equipped infantry. We’re no match for standup Battlemech combat but we can do some damage if the tactical situation is right. Our security forces work on three shifts and cover all hours of the day. Should the need arise we will wake you if the bandits attack during the day, but thus far this has not been an issue. I have also been instructed to inform you that any salvage collected from downed bandits is yours to keep; also any damages you receive during the night will be repaired the following morning by our skilled technicians; any questions?”
Again Watanabe spoke for the group.
“When should we expect to launch tonight’s patrol?”
“1900 hours, or as soon as it’s dark outside; whichever comes first” Sgt. Benson answered.
“Sounds good; we’ll get some food; then prep our equipment for the run” Smith said.
The rest of the afternoon went by quickly; the Irregulars ate a quick meal in the hanger’s small cafeteria, before going down stairs to prepare their Battlemechs. This turned out to be an easy job with help from the professionals at StarCorps Industries. The technicians worked quickly to recalibrate the DI computers of the Irregular’s Battlemechs to local conditions; before giving each a full diagnostic inspection. After finishing calibration and inspection, the techs loaded each Battlemech with its full complement of ammunition, removing all safety locks, and flags while doing so. The Outreach Irregulars were ready for their first combat operation.
Chet’s paint job was perfect for this climate. Smith almost had trouble seeing Jokers’ Jenner as it darted from tree to tree off in the distance about seven hundred meters. Chet had only added one distinguishing mark to their mechs back on Outreach; each had a Panzer Yellow band on the right upper arm, centered on each arm band was the Greek letter F printed in flat black. Smith liked the impromptu logo. The O crossed with I reminded him of ancient Terran Baseball Cards he had seen in the museum back on Clinton. Sgt. Benson’s Enforcer moved into his field of view on the right. Its blue green paint almost stood out in the moon light. Off to his left was Colt in his newish Centurion. Bull trailed a few hundred meters behind. If Joker spotted anything Bull would be the first to pull the trigger as Smith, Colt and Sgt. Benson moved into firing positions. At five strong they packed a lot of fire power. Smith was itching for a fight, but this wasn’t that kind of job. They’d been out for nearly four hours now. After leaving the complex heading south, they’d reached the vanishing sea; before turning to the west and traveling along the beach for about forty kilometers; they then turning to the north; then east. Soon they would turn towards the south; complete their long patrol loop. The plan was to stop by the complex for a quick break; then they would make the loop again. Two six hour patrols a night, every night; for god only knew how long. This was going to be a fun one.

[The Smith]

Ziang Forest
Son Hoa
Federated Commonwealth
November 6^th 3049
Three months. Smith and the rest of the Outreach Irregulars had been at this for three months; no action; no sign of bandits, just the same trees, fields, and towns night in night out. They were all getting bored, but that was the job. Maybe these Circinus banditos had heard about the extra help StarCorps had brought in. Maybe they had found another world to **** with. Maybe a pirate point jump had gone terribly wrong and sent them off to some strange alien world with bizarre talking bird people. It didn’t matter they weren’t attacking StarCorps, and that pissed Smith off. He was a Mechwarrior not a security guard; he’d been on jobs like this before; months of waiting and patrolling for nothing. Three months…
“Echo lance this is castle actual do you copy?” Watanabe’s accent sounded strange over the radio.
“This is Echo lead; we read you castle” Smith responded.
“We have multiple sightings of an unidentified flying object twenty clicks north, northwest of your current position. The civilian data nets out of Qingdoa are flooded with reports of a possible dropship flare.”
“This isn’t going to be another crazy farmer incident is it castle?” Smith was getting really sick of false drop ship reports from stupid hillbillies convinced that Kerensky’s children had returned, or aliens had come out of the periphery, or some such ********.
“I’m now getting reports of military vehicles and Battlemechs sighted inside the town of Qingdoa. I’m posting this to the local security data net; Mobile Fire and StarCorps Security Services need to see this.”
“Alright people; you heard the lady; we’re moving best speed north, northwest. I want systems and weapons checks from everyone, then call ready op.”
“This is Joker. I’m green across the board; ready op!”
“Bull here; ready op.”
“This is Colt. All systems nominal; ready op”
“Alright people lets go kick some ***.” Smith responded “Castle actual, this is Echo lance. We are moving to intercept unknown forces near Qingdoa; ETA twenty minutes.”
“Roger that Echo Lead.”
Smith’s heart was already pounding in his chest. He knew this was for real. He knew what was coming. For a moment he thought about Colt; how scared he must be. He’d be okay; the kid was a great pilot, with good instincts. And nothing kept people alive in this game like instinct. He checked his tactical map Joker was way out on the edge now; about a thousand meters. At that distance he could get bushwhacked badly before they could catch up, but he still had Bull’s indirect fire if he needed some help. Before he knew it they were half way there and Watanabe was calling out flash traffic over coms.
“Echo lance this is Castle actual I have a visual feed from Qingdoa on the local data net; I’m piping it to you now.”
The video was a grainy lo-rez. In the background a lightweight Commando Battlemech stood over a small utility truck filled with men. The men were dirty, and didn’t wear uniforms. They carried antiquated small arms, and a few man portable SRM launchers. Some of their weapons looked as if they could be hundreds of years old. One of the men jumped out of the truck, and fired a burst from his rusty assault rifle into the air. Then he saw the camera pointed at him. He gestured to one of the men with an SRM launcher. There was a quick flash… the feed died.
“Echo Lance, in light of what we are seeing Mobile Fire has decided to send their rapid reaction force to assist you. They are a long way out; they’ve sent me an ETA of one hour” Watanabe sounded concerned.
“Roger Castle” Smith’s response was ice cold. He didn’t need another lance out here to help him wipe the floor with these ********, but he also didn’t think there would be much of a fight left in an hour. “Make sure they have IFF set to our channel.”
“I will Echo; good hunting.”
Another ten minutes went by; everyone running full tilt. Smith must have checked his boards a million times; then Joker found them; he was a damn good scout.
“This is Joker I have multiple contacts marked at grid location G four, orientation one hundred fifty seven degrees southeast; they’re not moving.”
“Roger that Joker, I’ve got them on my tac-map. What are we looking at, and have they seen you yet?”
“I’ve got two Commandos’, and an Urbie hanging out in a park on the edge of town. They seem to be holding next to a light skinned vehicle possible motorized infantry. They don’t know I’m here.”
“Good, we’re moving to engage. As soon as we have closed to twenty five percent plus weapon range Bull is going to give it to um hard. “
“Roger that” Joker responded.
A few tense seconds passed. Joker watched silently from a stand of trees. The rest of the Irregulars closed on their targets. At six hundred meters Smith gave Bull the signal to fire.
“Bull, send it!” He yelled into his mic.
“On the way” Bull answered.
Thirty long range missiles poured out of Bull’s Catapult; streaking outwards towards an unsuspecting Commando. The dark night was suddenly a lite with small flashes as thirty explosions covered the Commando and surrounding area. The small truck was hit by a stray round; it was thrown over by the force of the explosion, and left a burning hulk. The Commando was hurt bad but it wasn’t out of the fight. Almost instantly the three small mechs sprang to life. The two commandos fired lasers into the darkness as the Urbie backed off into town. Bull fired another volley this time backed up by Colts Centurion. The damaged Commando took a beating as forty more missiles impacted its upper body. Joker took advantage of the situation dating out from the tree line and firing a cluster of small pulse lasers into the damaged mechs’ face. As the cockpit glass melted the mech just stopped; it suddenly pitched to the left as it fell onto a children’s playground. The other Commando turned to face Joker, but he was already gone. Instead he found himself face to face with the rest of the Outreach Irregulars. Smith’s ultra-autocannon spit rounds into the small mechs center torso. A moment later Colt’s class ten autocannon joined in; the combination of rounds rapidly punched through the Commando’s light armor. Bull and Colt fired a barrage of bright amber green lasers into the damaged mechs center. There was a brilliant flash as the fusion core breached containment. The little mech crumpled to the ground.
There was little chatter as each member of the team acted on instinct combined with years of intense training. Bull backed off to six hundred meters outside of town. Joker circled all the way around to the northwest corner of Qingdoa. On the way he spotted another Battlemech, and a hand full of vehicles. The previously identified Urbanmech ducked out from behind a building and fired its massive class twenty autocannon at Colt, who had followed Smith directly into the city. The round impacted the Centurions left arm and detonated sending shrapnel fragments in all directions as it destroyed most of the armor in that location. The two responded with a full volley of autocannon fire then lasers. The Centurions two mediums turned armor into a glowing mass of flowing liquid. Smith’s three small pulse lasers lashed out cutting through armor to damage internal structure. The Urbie fired its massive gun again. This time the round caught Smith’s left torso. Armor exploded off into space like debris from a meteor strike, but Smith had armor to spare. The two mechs opened up again with their automatic cannons; this time one of Smith’s rounds struck the gyro, causing the Urbie to jerk to one side violently. The pilot tried to right himself, but the mech over corrected falling onto its back; smoke pouring from several holes in its armor.
“I’ve got visual on a Merlin just inside the city moving your way” Joker called over the radio.
“Roger that moving to engage.”
With Colt on this left Smith started to push deeper into Qingdoa. He took his time knowing that there were SRM teams wondering around out there. On their way through the city Smith and Colt spotted several more small trucks filled with pirates. Each was easily destroyed by laser fire. Colt fired his long range missiles into a bandit roadblock near the center of town. The missiles threw debris in all directions, clearing the obstacle and the men standing behind it. They kept moving towards the Merlin. Meanwhile Joker was spotting targets for indirect LRM fire from Bull. In just a few minutes the two had killed eight armored vehicles that had worked their way through the town and were trying to exit to the south. Joker circled back around and headed north on the west side of town to where he had spotted the Merlin. Bull turned to head east then north in a flanking maneuver around the town’s eastern side. Smith and Colt met him first.
The Merlin emerged from behind a building two blocks away. It immediately fired its particle cannon and medium lasers. The PPC went wide impacting an office building to Smiths right, but the lasers dragged across his mech’s upper body damaging armor from right to left. Colt fired his LRMs before opening up with this class ten, and medium lasers. The Merlin shrugged it off as it returned fire with its own LRMs. Smith dropped the hammer on his ultra and the rounds poured out of it. The near constant stream of shells caused the mechs right shoulder to recoil back away from the gun. The two medium mechs continued to fire high explosive armor piercing rounds into the Merlin as Bull came into firing range and let loose a full volley of LRMs. At almost the same time Joker appeared as if out of nowhere and started to fire small pulses of angry red light into the Merlin’s back. Moments from death the Merlin fired everything it had directly at Smith’s Hunchy.
The alpha strike hurt; Smith was thrown into his restrains as Sidekick bucked hard. The combination of PPC and Laser hits burnt through the leftover armor of his left torso. His anti-missile system took out all five LRMS but the twenty millimeter rounds from the Merlin’s Sperry Browning machine gun made it through his armor and into the magazine for his main gun. The explosion was deafening as hot gases rapidly vented from cellular ammunition storage equipment; Sidekick was thrown forward and to the right. Smith tried to correct, but he already was too far gone. The ground came up to meet him in a lightning fast blur. Smith blacked out.

Denver
Colorado
Federated Suns
June 15^th 3028
“Paul honey, wake up” his mother called from the kitchen “Paul you have to get ready for the parade! I’m not going to ask you again kiddo; now get ready!” His mother’s voice was shrill; she was stressed about dad leaving. Paul got ready for the day before walking to the kitchen for some breakfast. His mother, brother and sister where already sitting around the table. She was staring at him.
“Paul honey, this is a special occasion. Fix that tie!”
“Mom it’s not a special occasion. Dad’s just leaving again.”
“You know what your father does. You know he has to leave. Fifteen months will be over before you know it, and he’ll be home telling stories over at Finnegan’s.”
“He’s only been home for three years! Now he’s leaving again. Why can’t someone else go? Don’t they know it’s my birthday next month? Don’t they know he’s only been there for two?” Paul burst in to tears. He’d done that a lot lately. At eight years old he barely knew his father at all, but he knew he liked having one more then not having one.
“Honey I know this is hard for you, but your father is a soldier, and a soldier does what he’s ordered to do. I want him here more than anything; but that’s up to the First Prince, not us.”
The parade grounds were cold. Paul was cold; the bleachers were cold, the air was cold… the whole damn planet was cold. Colorado was a world where winters where eternal. It was summer but snowflakes still fell as the full force of the First Chisholm’s Raiders marched across the parade ground. The procession seemed to go on for hours. First the aerospace fighters flew by, many trailing blue smoke as they performed dazzling maneuvers. Next the vertical takeoff and landing forces came over head. Karnov transports followed by Nightshades, and Warriors; afterwards armored vehicles rolled or hovered across the open ground. Dozens of tanks, scout cars, and hovercraft; each group carefully organized by type as they passed. Riding in trucks at the end of the column where the infantry; thousands of men sure to die on a high-tech battlefield where they were under armed and under armored. Lastly came the Battlemechs; kings of the thirty first century battlefield they marched lance after lance; company after company, until only one was left. Marshal Dennis’ Atlas was a giant metal monster; to his left was Paul’s father. His light blue Marauder was the only heavy mech in the command company; the other officers hid behind tons of armor; not Vincent Anderson. From what Paul understood his father was the best duelist in the regiment, and had been assigned to personally protect Marshal Dennis at all times. For just a moment Paul felt that his father was staring right at him. The mechs of the command company turned towards the bleachers and stopped; each raised an arm in salute. Paul could see his father through cockpit glass, the massive old Neurohelmet covered his head and shoulders alike; but not his face; Paul could see his face, just for a moment before they turned away marching on to Denver Spaceport.
“Hey dude wake up!” The voice was a million miles away; ringing, a voice totally unfamiliar to him.
“I mean it man; I’m not ready to bury you yet; we barely know each other *******! Now wake the **** up!” The voice was closer now, louder too; it cut through that horrible ringing sound. What was that? Something or someone was shaking him violently. Then another voice softer than before and much closer, like it was coming from inside his head.
“Echo lead this is Castle actual; do you copy? Echo lead, please respond. Smith, are you still with us?” Watanabe’s voice trembled slightly.
“I’m still kicking Captain.” Smith’s voice was weak; his eyes opened to Joker staring up from underneath him.
“Well good morning sunshine, I thought you were toasted for a second there” he smirked. “Now don’t freak out; your Hunchy is lying flat on its face, and if you undo that harness you’re going to take a little fall, okay?
Smith realized that his arms and legs were hanging out from under him.
“So I’m going to reach up and grab you; okay man? When I’ve got you; release your harness.”
Joker reached up and lifted as much of Smith’s weight as he could. Smith pulled the release on his five point, and felt himself drop. Joker caught him, mostly. With a little help Smith crawled out of his normal access hatch.
The world outside was loud, and bright, and confusing. Smith was standing on a city street; at the other end of which was a burning pile of Merlin. Overhead several helicopters endlessly circled as he turned to survey a world that moments ago had not existed. To the right Colt stood thirty feet tall in his Centurion. To the left was Joker’s shutdown Jenner. On a nearby corner, several triple S officers stood over a group of men bound with plastic restraints; black bags over their heads. The security officers were wearing full battle rattle. One even had a modified industrial exoskeleton armed with machine guns and a single shot SRM pack. Far in the distance the silhouette of a Battlemech passed behind an office building. It wasn’t one of the Irregulars.
“Joker; what happened?”
“We won man” he answered “We took down that Merlin; then Mobile Fire’s Rapid Reaction Force showed up with a **** ton of guys from Triple S.”
“Oh… okay.” Smith wanted to go back to sleep more than he had ever wanted to do anything. He sat down on the side walk.
“There’s a medic on the way over here to check you out. Don’t go back to sleep; okay man?”
“Whatever you say boss man” Smith saluted while laughing like a crazy person.


Outreach Irregulars Hanger
Son Hoa
Federated Commonwealth
November 7^th 3049
Smith’s ears still rang and his head hurt like hell; the fight had been over for ten hours. The debriefing was held in the conference room of their hanger; Decker, Gonzales, and Benson where there, along with several people from the planetary government including Estate General Drexel. Comstar had even patched Catherine through for a few minutes via HPG. The business side of the brief lasted for several hours and bored Smith to death. In short; the good news was that the Irregulars had received a large bonus from Fed-Com, for going out of their way to protect its citizens. They also grabbed a metric **** ton of salvage; every piece of military hardware dropped or destroyed in Qingdoa; including four wrecked Battlemechs, around a dozen vehicles, (mostly the ruins of light trucks) and around a hundred assault rifles, and SRM launchers. Oh, and they were local heroes now too. The bad news was that over a hundred people were killed before they got to Qingdoa, and that the rest of the banditos had gotten away before anyone could pin down the location of their dropship. The Estate General was finishing up so hopefully this meeting would be over soon.
“Son Hoa and its people have always firmly supported StarCorps Industries! As this planets largest employer, anyone threating StarCorps is threatening Son Hoa as a whole! In light of resent events I have ordered the planetary militia to deploy troops in as many nearby towns as possible; if these thugs return we’ll be waiting!” Estate General Drexel wasn’t the hard line military type, but the population would definitely benefit from the local support. The Outreach Irregulars wouldn’t always be around to save civilians from pirates.
“So once again; you have our planets greatest thanks and appreciation for your efforts; if there is every anything that the people of this planet can do for you please let us know.” The Estate General said before shaking their hands; then he and his entourage left the room.
“So, is anyone else wondering why these pirates bothered to drop that far from the complex; only to attack a town filled with civilians?” Joker asked
“That’s what everyone wants to know” Decker answered. “We’ve been attacked before, but civilian areas had been avoided”
“Maybe it was a test” Watanabe said.
“What sort of test?” Gonzales asked
“A test to see how long it would take for anyone to respond; a test to see who or what would come out to fight them.”
“So if that was a test, how long do we have before they attack for real?” Smith asked
“I don’t know but we should change our patrol patterns and up security as much as possible” Watanabe answered.
“Gonzales, can you put triple S on high alert?” Watanabe asked
“I’ll increase weakly overtime, and ask central command for additional staff.” He answered
“Good; we’ll work with the technical crew to get some of that salvage up and running.” Joked added
“If we get any of those mechs running we’ll need some local talent to drive um” Bull said.
“I’ll put out a job posting on the local net for Mechwarriors” Decker responded
“We have a couple of dispossessed pilots from the last major attack over at Complex H” Benson said. “I might be able to lend them to you.”
“Oh yes… one other thing.” Decker added “Corporate wanted me to thank you with two Warhammer WHM-6R Battlemechs fresh off the line; I’ll have them sent over later today.”
The room was silent for what seemed like a long time. This was like a twelve million C-bill bonus on top of the salvage and the cash Fed-Com had given them… A good haul no question.
“Well, we’re really are going to need some more pilots then; aren’t we?” Smith said

Outreach Irregulars Hanger
Son Hoa
Federated Commonwealth
November 14^th 3049
The hanger was alive with activity as StarCorps technicians worked on one side to paint the new Warhammers, while others tried to put the pirate mechs back together on the other. Sparks flew, and the scream of power tools could be heard everywhere. A week ago this place seemed empty with only the four Outreach Irregulars Battlemechs occupying the repair bays closest to the main door. Now there were ten Battlemechs as well as three industrial mechs from StarCorps Security Services. The triple S security mechs were getting some small upgrades so that they might be more useful during an all-out fight on the complex grounds; their less than lethal crowed control munitions were traded for live machine gun ammo and SRM rounds.
“So do you want the go news; or the bad news?” Chief technician Mendez asked as he approached Smith, Joker, and Watanabe who had been watching the work for a few minutes.
“Let’s hear the good news first” Joker said
“Well I can get that Urbanmech up and running no problem; all it needs is a gyro and some fresh armor.” “Armor and Gyros are things we have lots of at this facility. I can also build you a working Commando out of the two wrecks they brought in here.”
“So that’s the good news. What’s the bad news?” Smith asked
“That Merlin would have been the big catch, but it’s done for; engines toasted, gyros shot, there was an ammo explosion in both the LRM and Machinegun ammo bins.”
“Well that’s too bad; can we get anything out of it?”
“It’ll make a good hanger queen; I’ve already had the guys start parting it out.”
“Sounds good; thank you Chief Mendez” Watanabe said.
Mendez returned to his work shouting orders at the men as he did so.
“So the lance grows to a company” Joker said.
“That’s great, but where are we going to get four more pilots?” Smith asked
“I know where you can find one” Watanabe answered
Both men wore a confused expression as neither knew what she was talking about.
“There is a high end cybernetic research laboratory and hospital here on Son Hoa” She said “They can replace my eye, and fix my balance; but it won’t be cheap”
“Not cheap?” Smith asked
“More than a Battlemech” she responded
“That’s a spicy eye ball!” Joker said before laughing some.
“Well we need pilots, and I can’t think of anyone else I’d rather have with us out there” Smith said.
“We spent a bunch of money on Colt, and that’s turned out pretty well so far” Joker said.
“Is Catherine going to make us hire a new tactical officer?” Smith asked
“I don’t think we’ll be able to find one out here.” Watanabe answered
“Okay let’s do this.”


StarCorps Industries Assembly Complex B
Son Hoa
Federated Commonwealth
November 21^st 3049
Yoshimi’s surgery only took three hours, but she was in the hospital for several days. She came in on a Longhaul FB-335 out of Xiang a week after she’d left; walking off the plane holding Inuyasha in her arms; she looking as if she’d just come home from a relaxing vacation. For just a second Smith really thought he saw the world move around her.
If surgery had been painful she didn’t show it, for her it had been nothing more than a short lived inconvenience. They’d cut her hair short on the right side while working on her inner ear. The cybernetic eye was gunmetal grey except for a small central optic. The central glass had an eerie neon blue glow that grabbed the focus of everyone in the room.
“Does it work?” Bull asked first.
“Better than the original” She answered.
“It’s so cool looking!” Colt added
“Thank you Colt”
“Are you ready for duty?” Smith asked
“I think so; StarCorps let me spend some time in one of their simulators over at complex A; they also checked all of my neuron feedback and said it looked normal.”
“Sounds great; so what do we call you out there? Oh, and what kind of mech would you like?” Joker asked “We have more than we know what to do with.”
“I prefer the call sign Oni” she said “I used to be a Dragon pilot so I know a thing or two about heavy mechs; I thought I’d grab one of the Warhammers.”
“Well that’s a start; now we only have three empty command couches to fill” Smith said
“Have we found any local pilots?” Watanabe asked
“Decker and Benson are sending a few potentials over later this afternoon.” Joker said
The door to the cafeteria opened and Officer Gonzales entered.
“Officer Gonzales, how are you?” Watanabe asked
“I’m well; yourself?” he asked
“I am quite well, thank you.”
“I came here to ask you all how the recruiting was going” He said
“We have a couple of people coming by a little later on.” Smith answered
“That’s great; listen I just got another guy over here from HQ with loader mech experience. I now have four pilots from Triple S and only three machines to run. I was hoping you might be able to spare that Urbie, it would give us a lot of firepower inside the complex when combined with our Copper, Peacemaker, and Marco.”
”Well I don’t know; are you sure you guys can handle a real Battlemech?” Joker asked
“I have a lot of experience in an up armed Marco MR-8E, which is almost a Battlemech. Our least experienced operator will be in the Copper; no fusion engine to worry about.”
“I can’t see any problem with this” Bull jumped in “There’s no way that thing could keep up with us on patrol.”
“True, it’s better off inside the fence where it can do some good” Colt said
“Thank you very much” Gonzales said “Also I managed to bring in another company of well-equipped infantry.”
“That should help” Joker said. “If they need extra weapons we have plenty.”
“Am I the only one thinking that we should leave some of those portable SRMs cached around the complex just in case we are over run?” Bull asked
“That’s a good idea; Officer Goldberg is that doable?” Smith asked
“I’ll see to it right away.”
“Sounds like we’re almost ready then” Joker said as the door opened and Benson entered with a tall thin young man and what looked like a small Lyran woman well into middle age.
“Well if it isn’t my favorite group of irregular mercenaries; I managed to find some local talent and brought these two by to meet you. This is Alex Jorgenson also known as Cowboy, and Beatrix Engel call sign Angel. Alex is a rookie scout pilot with a lot of talent who got his Mongoose shot out from under him a month or so before you guys made planet fall. Beatrix is StarCorps Industries’ premier test pilot here on Son Hoa. I think they will both make good additions to your team; of course we will want Cowboy back when your contract is up.”
The Irregulars needed pilots in a bad way, and they weren’t about to refuse these two. Smith looked them up and down. He wasn’t very interested in any pilot who needed a new job because they got their ride shot out from underneath them; not to mention that other one, Angel he called her was just old; no getting around it.
“What’s your preferred ride?” Smith asked Engel
“I’ve run a lot of Battlemechs over the years; I trained on a Chameleon; before starting my carrier in a Griffin, at the end of my time with the LCAF I got rolled into an Atlas; but my favorite was the MAD-3R. I ran one from twenty one, right on through to the end of my career in the merc trade. Since then I have a lot of time spent in the Warhammer and King Crab, as well as a few other mechs that StarCorps has brought to me over the years.”
“Twenty one; so you fought in the third succession war?”
“I did… and the fourth, and again in thirty nine; and after that over on Andurien. There were some less well publicized jobs along the way also.”
“My dad fought in the third succession war. What unit did you serve with?” Smith asked
“I signed up with the LCAF at sixteen; that was in 3016, if you must make a lady feel her age. High command sent me to the nineteenth Lyran guards. I had four years in when I took my leave and joined up with a mercenary unit called the Always Faithful on Alarion; I worked with them right up through the battle for Andurien in 3040; well except for a few months during the war of 3039. The Faithful got left out of that one; so I took some time off and linked up with the Gray Death for their drop on Altais; now that was a crazy time. After Andurien things started really calming down; when StarCorps offered me a test pilot gig I thought it would make for a decent retirement.”
“If your retired, do you really want to join up with us?” Joker asked “Are you still up for full time combat operations?”
“Look kids; I’ve been dropping metal for more years than any of you’ve been alive, and I’m damn good at it too. When I saw the posting for a combat pilot I knew there wasn’t a man or woman on this rock better than me so I came to help out. Over the last nine years I’ve spent almost every day in the cockpit testing new equipment for the Warhammer, and King Crab Battlemechs. And yes that included live fire weapons testing. I’ve been ready for a fight the whole time.”
“I’m sorry; I wasn’t trying to imply that you were too old, I just thought maybe you wanted a quieter life” Joker said.
“Too much quiet is likely to drive an old merc crazy” she said “I think I could use a little action.”
“Well welcome aboard Angel; we really look forward to bringing your experience level into our organization” Watanabe said
“So Cowboy, what’s your story?” Joker asked
“I’m nineteen years old, and I’ve only been doing this for six months. I grew up on Tukayyid; it’s a boring farming system that used to be part of the Draconis Combine; but when I was really young we got our independence with the Free Rasalhague Republic. When I was four there was a battle against Ronin warriors from the DCMS, but aside from that nothing interesting ever really happened there; so as soon as I was old enough I ran Rimward looking to make my fortune as anything but a farm hand.”
“How did you come to be a Mechwarrior?” Smith asked
“Well I was seventeen when I rolled into Outreach broke and starving. I had some experience working on agromechs and fixing other farm equipment. So I managed to get a job as an apprentice technician with an upstart company called Mech Magic Incorporated. Mech Magic preforms repair, and customization services for mercenary groups from all over the inner sphere. I spent the next two years learning the tech trade; until a Mechwarrior from Mobil Fire came in for some work. He was really impressed with my work, and offered me a job that paid a little better; so I took it. I’d only worked as a tech for a couple of months when they put up a posting for Mechwarriors. I applied and passed all the tests, and was still learning the basics when the pirates attacked our patrol near Complex H. It all happened so fast; one second everything was normal then out of nowhere there were four pirate mechs shooting at me and I’m getting hit; alarms where going off, it was crazy. I know I fired my weapons but it didn’t seem to matter; before I knew what was what the auto-eject had thrown me out into the cool night air; for me the fight was over. I watched the moon lit battle field; tracers and laser fire lashed out in the night as the rest of my unit made contact. We got beat up pretty bad, but the rapid reaction force came in and mopped up those bandit ******** right good. So that’s my story, I’ve been in one fight and I got smoked.”
“We can work with that.” Joker said. “I had a Spider shot out from underneath me when I was a rookie; you can’t let one bad mission end your carrier.”
“I had a similar experience once” Watanabe said. “If you don’t get back on that horse now, that night will haunt your dreams forever. “
“I really want a chance to get some pay back on those bandits!” Cowboy added
“You will” Smith said.
There was little time for sleep in the following days as the Irregulars found time to train daily. The rolling hills to the north of the Irregular’s hanger made a great training ground. They’d organized themselves into three groups. Joker, and Cowboy where recon lance; they’d be operating way out on the edge, running sensors quiet, and if all went according to plan they’d see the enemy before the enemy saw them. The rest of the Irregulars formed fire lance; at three hundred tons and five strong, they had the fire power to burn down just about anything short of a full strength Lyran scout lance. Recon lance would find targets. Fire lance would destroy targets; at least that was the plan. Of course if that didn’t work, there was always plan B. The triple S security lance would stay on the complex grounds; patrolling inside the fence. Two companies of triple S guards armed with small arms; SRM packs, and a couple of light weight combat vehicles were the last line of defense. If the Irregulars were unable to keep the fight outside the complex, triple S would have to hold until the rapid reaction force arrived.

Zhu Cho Farm Lands
Son Hoa
Federated Commonwealth
December 23^rd 3049 (Local Winter)
There were only a few months left on the contract with StarCorps. As it was, the Irregulars had been on Son Hoa for over four months and only seen one fight. Smith didn’t think StarCorps would reissue their contract with so little action to speak of.
It was winter now, and cold as Benson had promised it would be. The Irregulars had repainted their Battlemechs in arctic whites and grays. Sidekick’s feet made a crunching sound as they plodded through the ice and snow. Outside his cockpit the world looked like a postcard; trees, fences, and homes covered in a thick white powder. Smith hated the cold, but he loved to fight in the snow; he could run his lasers a lot hotter in the cold air.
Today’s patrol had gone a lot like all of their resent patrols. Joker was running out about a thousand meters ahead; followed by his new apprentice Cowboy. Smith, and Colt were the tip of the spear positioned about three hundred meters out in front of the rest of fire lance. Angel and Oni were the center piece of the unit they had the armor and firepower to burn down anyone dumb enough for a stand up fight. Bull brought up the rear, a constant over watch; always in range to support the lance with LRM fire.
As tense and ready for a fight as they’d been a few weeks back; the Irregulars had relaxed quite a bit. Constant friendly banter had become the norm on coms. Joker would tell jokes… terrible, terrible jokes. Angel would tell the most horrifying war stories that Smith, Joker, Bull, or Oni had ever heard. That woman had seen things, and she loved to scare the rookies. One night Oni even read them some Haikus that she had written since coming to Son Hoa. The company made for a fun night shift and Smith almost didn’t care that they weren’t fighting pirates every day.
“Smith this is Joker you copy?”
“Yeah man; what’s up?”
“I’ve got some strange sensor activity. Everyone go radio silent until I get back to you; okay?”
“Roger that. All units copy?”
One by one, each of the Irregulars sent a coded confirmation signal. In an instant the chatter, jokes, poems, and relaxed attitude were gone. They were a professional fighting force now; ready to deal death to bandit scum bags.
Several tense minutes passed as Joker, and Cowboy checked their sensors, and scanned for contacts. Smith hated to wait. He rapped his knuckles on Sidekicks control panel; he checked, and rechecked his displays; his ammo counts. Everything was green; everything was ready. Joker’s voice came over the radio.
“Fire lance, this is Recon lance, do you copy?”
“Recon lance, this is Fire actual, we’ve got you loud and clear” Oni responded for the lance.
“I’ve got ablative plating from drop pods on the ground here. We need to alert all global defense forces that there are hostiles in the area.”
“Roger that Recon lance; I’m posting to the local defense net as we speak.”
Just as they uploaded the report, the flash traffic came pouring in. Three drop flares, falling fast outside Complex B. They’d have to haul *** to get back there; they were about twenty clicks out, and the dropships would be grounded, and unloading in minutes. Watanabe gave the order but everyone was already turning towards home.
“All units, return to base at best speed. Security lance prepare for imminent contact.”
Every one responded at the same time.
“Roger!”
Every mech in the unit was running at top speed; about half way back they got there first calls from Triple S. There was a full sized battalion of pirate mechs coming out of three grounded dropships. They were in for a real fight. With those numbers everyone in the unit would have to down at least two mechs for them to come out on top. Benson’s voice came over the radio.
“Outreach Irregulars, this is Sgt. Benson I am leading the rapid reaction force to Complex B. We are company strength and ready for a fight; our aerospace and VTOL assets should arrive at the complex momentarily. Just try to hold on until we get there.”
Good smith thought; the help from Mobil Fire would really even up the fight. Maybe they wouldn’t all be going home in body bags after all. Joker’s voice burst in over the radio again.
“Contact!” he yelled.
In the distance Smith could see weapons fire. Machine gun tracers, mixed with red pulses of light. Several trees burst into flames.
“Recon lance what’s going on?” Oni asked.
“We are under attack by a recon element; two Locusts and a Spider.”
“Roger Recon; we’re moving to engage” Oni answered
By this point the Irregulars’ formation had closed up some. It only took a few seconds for fire lance to move into position. Bull was Jonny on the spot with the LRMs letting lose a full barrage on one of the Locusts which had been stupid enough to engage Cowboys Commando in a duel. Cowboy was already winning the fight when the LRMs came in, tearing off most of the armor located on top of the small mech. Cowboy’s machine fired a cluster of SRMs right into the holes, and the tiny mech burst into flames. At the same time Joker took the head right off a Spider with an alpha strike from six small pulse lasers. The rest of fire lance was in range now firing a mix of medium ranged weapons at the remaining locust. Smith got off a lucky shot taking the Locust’s leg off at the reverse knee joint. The small mech hit the ground; struggled; fired off a machine gun burst, then gave up. Smith watched as the pilot opened the hatch waving a long piece of white fabric.
They made their way back to Complex B without further incident. Arriving from the North West the Irregulars could see the Mobile Fire aerospace fighters making attack runs on the grounded dropships; keeping them pinned in place as friendly forces moved to engage. This would be the final battle there was no way these ******** would make it off world again.
“Contacts twelve o’clock; all units go weapons free, engage, engage!” Jokers’ voice was strained as he hurdled across the battlefield at a hundred and thirty kilometers an hour; he must get tossed around in there pretty good, Smith thought.
Smith had visual contacts now; lots of them. In fact, he wasn’t sure he had been in an environment this target rich since Vega. They had the pirate’s attention now, several enemy Battlemechs turned to open fire at once. There must have been four, or five lances of pirate mechs arrayed around the complex fence. Triple S had dug in well; there was a constant stream of machine gun fire and short range missiles coming out of what looked like every window, and door.
The Triple S lance had concealed itself inside the buildings of complex B. Joker had run right down the middle, and was passing through the enemy line; cowboy following close behind. Smith was amazed he could run right by people like that without getting killed. Smith pushed his control stick hard to the left while keeping torso facing the enemy battle line, Colt followed. At the same time, Oni and Angel broke right; while Bull took cover behind a cluster of large rocks.
The firing started all at once. Smith’s autocannon barked out rounds in short staccato bursts. He followed with his pulse lasers. They ate through holes in damaged armor; a lone Cicada was the first to fall. Colt was backing him up with cannon fire and lasers. He turned to fire a cluster of long range missiles at a distant target Recon Lance had selected; Bull joined in, and contrails filled the night sky.
The Cicada was followed by an ancient looking Dervish, then a Thorn. These bandits dropped easy, like shooting fish in a barrel. Smith checked his sensors. They’d done well at getting the drop on these guys, but they were the lighter mechs of the unit, and some of the heavier mechs where about to force their way into the complex.
The fence around Complex B wasn’t really a fence; it was more of a twenty foot high reinforced ferrocrete wall topped with guard posts and constantino wire. Most mechs would have to at least blast their way through it. But a lance of jump jet equipped mechs hoped right over it and immediately opened fire destroying buildings inside the complex as well as the Triple S guards inside.
There was strong response form Triple S as a torrent of short range missiles came from every windows, and door. Men ducked around the corners of buildings, firing machineguns and assault rifles. A Wasp was downed almost immediately; caught in the deadly barrage. A Stinger was caught by surprise as the four pseudo mechs of the Triple S lance came out from behind cover firing machineguns, and adding even more missile fire to the fray. The two light mechs of the lance where already down as a Cataphract, and Shadow Hawk turned towards a barley armored Copper. The small security mech came apart at the seams; unable to stand up to the heavy barrage. As the smoke cleared, only its legs remained standing; the rest of the machine had all but disappeared. The three remaining lance mates opened up with everything they had; concentrating fire on the lighter Shadow Hawk. A large volley of SRMs and machine gun fired was added to by the Marco’s large laser, and the Urbanmech’s heavy autocannon. The Shadow Hawk stumbled, but returned fired burning the thirty five ton Peacemaker to the ground; before igniting jump jets and fleeing the Complex.
Officer Gonzales fired his massive autocannon again; this time targeting the Cataphract bearing down on him at close range. It was a solid hit to the heavy mech’s center torso, barely missing the Ferro-carbonate of the cockpit. The Cataphract returned fired now; lasers chewed through his light armor as two automatic cannons barked out high explosive shells. A cluster round burst right out in front of him throwing its deadly sub munitions across his mechs entire body. There was a blur to Gonzales’ left as Officer Lieu’s Marco came crashing into the Cataphract at full speed. Lieu fired his large laser into the pirate machine’s right arm as the two came crashing to the ground.
“Gonzales, get the hell out of here!” came Lieu’s voice over the radio.
Goldberg didn’t respond, there was nothing left to say; he fired the massive auto cannon one more time; taking off the Cataphract’s damaged right arm; before retreating back into one of the complexes larger assembly centers. Outside the Cataphract got back on its feet and began searching for him; stopping to take out Triple S missile teams as it went.
Oni’s cockpit shook as the flight of long range missiles landed all around her. She got a hard tone in her neurohelmet; short range missiles burst from their launcher, streaking out past her cockpit on their way to a damaged Grasshopper. All six missiles impacted the mech’s head and upper torso; she followed up with particle cannon fire; taking the Grasshoppers head clean off as the long range missile system detonated mid reload.
“Target down” She called out over the radio.
“Roger that” Angel called back. “We’ve got two coming at us from grid location C twelve.”
“Contact” Oni answered as she fired both particle cannons at an approaching Quickdraw. Angel joined in with her own particle cannons. The Quickdraw returned fire with long range missiles. Oni’s Warhammer was already pock marked with craters as the missiles hit home; throwing armor to the winds as they detonated. Angel let loss another stream of charged particles; this time the Quickdraw’s ammo bins went up turning the sixty ton Battlemech into a fireworks display. The victory was short lived; Angel’s Warhammer quaked as a burst of high velocity shells stitched their way from its right leg to left torso. The Quickdraw’s sidekick let loose with everything his Champion had; lasers lashed out making contact with both Angel, and Oni, but the short range missiles flew right between the two missing entirely. Angel returned fire with everything she had; the Champion was right out in front of her now, an easy target for the alpha strike. Oni backed her up with lasers and machineguns; then a moment later with her SRMs. The champion was already badly damaged when it turned to run off; they let him.
“Bull, this is Oni; do you copy?”
“I’ve got you”
“Can you hit my selected target?”
“Roger that; on the way.”
Bull got lock almost as soon as he turned to look in Oni’s direction. He fired a full volley of thirty long range missiles; they arched up high over the battlefield and came down on a fleeing Champion like a sledge hammer. The mech collapsed to the ground, finished. Then he heard Joker’s voice over the radio.
“Bull, this is Joker; I need fire support” his voice was shaky things weren’t going well
Bull scanned his displays looking for joker. “Okay, I’ve got you; where do you want the fire started?” he asked
“If you could find it in our infinite wisdom to put some hurt on the Assassin chasing us down; that would really help me out a lot.”
“For that I’ll need you to get him sighted in; you think you can turn to face him?”
“We’ll try”
Joker was in a bad spot. He needed fire support but to get it he would have to turn and face the larger Assassin that was chasing him. They were also about to run back into the fray, and the fray was no place for scouts.
“Cowboy, on my say so I want you to break right hard and turn into our friend here; we’re going to try to get behind him for a second so that Bull can lock him up.”
“Okay so what if he keeps chasing me?”
“I’m going to break left he can only follow one of us, the other will get behind to lock him up.”
“Okay ready when you are” Cowboy said.
“Good; now break!”
The two light mechs broke off in different directions. The Assassin took the bait; following Cowboy’s smaller Commando. That worked into Jokers hand perfectly, and at the end of his loop he was about two hundred and fifty meters out, running right behind the Assassin who was too distracted following Cowboy’s Commando to realize how ****** he was.
“Bull, I’m right on him; do you have lock?”
“Just got it; missiles are inbound.”
Joker had a front row set as thirty long range missiles covered the Assassin with powerful explosions. It wasn’t enough to drop him, but it must have hurt. The Assassin slowed slightly and that was the sign Joker was looking for. He fired several quick bursts of pulse laser fire into the medium mechs rear end. Confused the pirate mech slowed; turning to face his attacker.
“Cowboy, he’s turning to fight me; put as much hurt on him as you can, then start running circles; got it?”
“Roger”
Cowboy came around lightning fast to see the Assassin’s much weakened rear armor. He fired a full barrage of short range missiles right into the damaged area. The larger mech stumbled and fell forward, but tried to stand using its gun barrel right arm to get off the ground. Cowboy fired again, this time with his medium laser; damaging the Assassins engine. It gave up trying to stand and slumped over.
Smith’s sensors told him that they were doing well; with Colt’s help he had already dropped four enemy mechs, it looked like Oni, and Angel had done the same. Based on his sensor information, there were only ten pirate mechs left standing, and at least two of them were damaged. On the other hand everyone in his unit had taken at least some damage and they were all rapidly running out of ammo; not to mention that fact that almost all of the onsite Triple S staff had been wiped out. It was time for the Outreach Irregulars to call for help.
“Reaper lead do you copy?” Smith called over the radio.
“This is Reaper lead I’ve got you five by five” Benson’s voice was a god sent.
“Reaper lead we’ve busted them up pretty bad, but we are starting to run short on ammo, and armor. Do you have an ETA?”
“We’ll be in weapons range in less than five minutes.”
“Roger, we’re going to make our way back into the complex and hold as long as we can.”
“Sounds good, I’ll divert the fighters to give you some more support.”
“Thanks Reaper lead, I’ll make sure to leave a couple of these ******** standing for you guys to play with.”
“Sounds like fun; Reaper out” and Benson was gone.
Smith checked his damage readings; all in the yellow, but that could be a lot worse. He looked over to his right Colt’s left arm was gone, but other than that he looked okay. In the distance he watched Joker and Cowboy zipping between mechs from the Pirate command lance. That would be the tough nut to crack; four fresh assault mechs. He turned to check on Oni; she was in a duel with a damaged Shadow Hawk.
“This is Smith; all units fall back to the complex, we should have reinforcements in T minus five minutes.”
Again Smith received a series of green indicators; everyone was too busy to talk. He turned to his right, moving to form up with the rest of Fire Lance. Oni had scored a critical hit on the Shadow Hawk’s fusion engine; it burst brighter than the sun in a massive fire ball, small pieces of Battlemech were thrown outwards in long spiraling arcs. Bull fired a volley at a distant Atlas before leaving cover to form up with the rest of the group. Recon Lance had split off from their attack run and made their way out into the woods; they would be taking the long way back to base to avoid drawing in the enemy assault mechs.
As Fire lance moved towards the now totally destroyed gate to Complex B yet another enemy lance came in to block their path. A Marauder, two Wolverines, and a Jagermech stood between the Irregulars and the gate. Everyone opened up at once; lasers, autocannon slugs, and missiles filled the space between the two groups.
A Wolverine’s head exploded and it fell backwards in what looked like slow motion. Colt’s autocannon fired one last burst, as the last bits of armor were blown from his center torso. His auto ejection feature triggered and he went flying up into the night. Smith looked up to see him falling slowly under a parachute. Then something else; a lance of Mobile Fire fighters was diving in to help them, each firing on a separate enemy battlemech. Another Wolverine went down in flames; Bull’s quartet of medium lasers had punched throw an ammo bin. Smith joined Oni; concentrating fire on the Jagermech; as Angel paired off for a duel with the Marauder.
Bull used his jump jets to clear the fence; from inside the complex he fired at the now incoming assault mechs. Smith was careful to only use his pulse laser now; he was running out of ammo very fast and needed to save as much as he could for the pirate command staff. Oni’s particle cannons tore throw the Jagermech’s right arm disabling almost half its fire power. Smith kept up his barrage of laser fire as the temperature in his cockpit rose to unbearable levels. Oni fired a salvo of short range missiles into the mech’s shoulder; it did the trick; the cannon shells bursting in a massive fire ball. Angel and the Marauder were circling each other now; trading steams of charged particles followed by laser fire. The marauder was in better shape but Angel’s gunnery skill was well beyond that of the pirate. After trading only a few salvos, she took out the Marauder’s cockpit killing the pilot; the seventy five ton war machine went limp before dropping to the ground. The three remaining Outreach Irregulars managed their way through the gate as the enemy command lace came into weapons range. Oni and Angel opened up with everything they had; Smith joined them firing his last three cannon bursts. Bull fired the last of his long range missiles.
“I’m Bingo on…” Bull’s radio cut out as a hyper sonic nickel slug the size of a water melon smashed through his cockpit. The Catapult’s legs went out from under it, and the lifeless machine crashed to the ferrocrete tarmac. What had been a good friend was turned into a nothing more than a metal husk in an instant. There wasn’t any reaction from the rest of the team, there wasn’t any time for that now. This fight was almost over.
“Reaper leader, this is Fire lance we are two down and bingo on ammo. We need immediate support; copy?”
“This is reaper lead; we are engaging enemy mechs from the south west.”
Smith looked off to the right where he saw the Rapid Reaction Force attacking the enemy with Recon Lance in tow.
“All units push forward. Let’s finish these stupid *****.”
Oni and Angel charged back out through the gate as the Mobile Fire company distracted the massive enemy machines. An atlas spewed black smoke, and slowly toppled over; while a Cyclops’ ammo bins burst turning the massive war machine into a towering inferno. Oni and Angel paired off to attack a remaining Zeus; while a massive Stalker turned to take on the entire Mobile Fire company; Smith watched on as the ugly battlemech destroyed two mediums in quick succession before falling to the combined fire of twelve other mechs.
That was it; the battle was over, Smith thought as he was suddenly thrown hard into his five point harness. Armor readings for his rear torso went from green to yellow, then red. He threw his control stick as fast and hard as he could; turning side kick to the right. Coming around he found himself face to face with a damaged Cataphract; its remaining weapons lashed out at him again and again. Medium lasers cut through what was left of his torso armor, as the pirate fired a cluster round from an autocannon right into his internal structure. Sidekick shook hard as the lights and displays in his cockpit flickered; then went out. He reached for the ejection handle but nothing happened. He felt his stomach rise as he began to fall; he didn’t black out this time. Sidekick landed on its back with a bone jarring thud. Smith could see the sky; it was almost light out now. Then something blocked out the sky; an arm, a medium laser held right to the glass. There was nothing he could do but wait for it. Smith heard an extremely load popping noise followed by an explosion, then another, and another. The arm lifted away as the Cataphract spun and fell to the ground next to him. He could see the cockpit; well what was left anyway. Someone had blasted their way in one side, and out the other; someone with a really big gun.
Smith opened the hatch to crawl out of his mech for the second time on Son Hoa. The battle was over Officer Gonzales stood over him triumphantly in his Urbanmech; its feet surrounded by empty shell casings. He waved a salute to the damaged but functional machine.
“Pop, pop; watching ************* drop!” Gonzales said over the Urbie’s load speaker.
“******** right” Smith yelled back smiling. “I’m going out to look for Colt; you mind following me out there?”
“No problem; you want a ride?”
“No thanks, I’ll take my chances on the ground” Smith reached back into Sidekick’s cockpit, and grabbed the rusty assault rifle he had kept for these sorts of occasions. He unfolded the stock, and pulled the charging handle until it stopped; the bolt carrier made a metallic sound as it rushed forward.
With a battlefield full of downed mechs there where sure to be some pirates walking around out there. Smith made his way to the main gate house; Goldberg’s Urbie not far behind. He met a small group of Triple S guards who had miraculously survived the bombardment of the the main gate area; they left their post to follow him out into the field. It took some time but Smith found Colt sitting on top of his destroyed Centurion.
“Hey dude you okay?” he asked
“It got a little hairy there for a few minutes but I’m fine” Colt answered.
“Good to hear.”
“Is everyone else okay?” Colt asked
“I got knocked down… and Bull…” Smith sighed “Bull didn’t make it.”
Colt was million miles away; it was like he hadn’t even noticed what Smith had said.
“So that’s it? It’s all over; we’re done?”
“Yeah, that’s it; we’re done here.”
“I just thought there was more to it than that. I thought there would be more fire fights… you know like a war.”
“Sorry kid; this was no war, just some backwater rent-a-cop action.”
“Do you think we’ll ever go to war?”
“If there’s a war anytime soon; we’ll get in on it.”
“Cool.” Colt’s thousand yard stair said a lot for the whole unit. It told you that his days as the rookie kid in this unit where over. He had survived his four minutes; he was a Mechwarrior now. And just like Colt the Outreach Irregulars were a mature unit now. They’d seen combat and they’d survived.

Spirit of Taurus
Zenith Jump Point
Rajkot System
Federated Commonwealth
January 8^th 3050
The ride back to Outreach was as long as the ride into Son Hoa, but it wasn’t boring Smith spent almost every minute in the group dining area with the rest of the Outreach Irregulars. The first seven nights had been spent with each member of the Irregulars telling their story of the battle at Complex B. Oni had gone first, then Angel, followed by Cowboy, Colt, and Smith. Joker’s story was filled with innuendo and terrible dad jokes, but it was by far the funniest. Last night was Gonzales’ turn; as the newest addition to the group the story of Triple S lance was now a story of the Outreach Irregulars as well. Tonight was the last night they would tell war stories. As the surviving Irregulars sat quietly in the dining area; a holo-vid projector silently re-played the Battle Rom from Bull’s Catapult. That flash was unmistakable, so bright, and so fast; the ROM ended. Smith knew that flash waited for all of them, but not on Son Hoa. In a few months they’d be back on Outreach looking for a new assignment, and Son Hoa would be a distant memory; another story for the bar.
The Spirit of Taurus was cramped; all union class dropships where. The Outreach Irregulars had left Son Hoa with three of them; along with the twenty four battlemech carcasses they had created. Including their own mechs, the Irregulars had left StarCorps Industries Production Complex B with thirty two machines in various states of disrepair packed into their three new dropships.
True to their word the StarCorps technicians had worked hard to rebuild as many broken machines as possible, but a few where totally beyond repair. Sadly this list included Sidekick; the fifty ton war machine’s gyro, fusion engine, and DI computer were all toasted, but the cockpit, ultra autocannon, and three small pulse lasers would go to good use in rebuilding that messed up bandit Cataphract. The StarCorps people didn’t have the skill to work with lostech so Smith’s new machine would be finished by Cowboy’s friends at Mech Magic Inc. back on Outreach. Colt would be piloting Angel’s Warhammer; she had a Marauder now. Oni would stay with her Warhammer just as Joker continued to use his Jenner. Cowboy wanted something with a little more power and had laid claim to a pirate Cicada. Gonzales loved that Urbie, but the rest of the Irregulars had convinced him to upgrade to a rebuild Atlas. Once again the Outreach Irregulars had more mechs than people to pilot them; at least that would keep the bankers happy.

Financial District
Harlech
Outreach
March 8^th 3050
Catharine’s office was unusually hot; the air conditioner must have been broken. Smith, Joker, and Oni had been picked up by a Lexan Oceanic at Harlech spaceport, and flown directly to her building. The rest of the Irregulars were busy seeing to their equipment.
“So, what’s so damn important that you had to have us here as soon as we got off the boat?” Smith asked.
“This” Catherine said turning to a large screen on the wall opposite the conference table, activating it with a small remote.
The pretty blond INN reporter stood just inside a chain link fence covered in Comstar signs; most likely an HPG station. Greasy black smoke billowed in the wind as a strange looking Battlemech crossed in the distance. It was large definitely a heavy, maybe an assault; Smith thought it looked like a cross between a Catapult and a Marauder. The banner at the bottom of the screen read Invasion from beyond the Periphery!
“I’ve taken cover inside Comstar’s Toland City HPG station. It’s very dangerous for reporters outside this fence, but as far as we can tell these strange new invaders have stopped short of attacking the HPG tower. They destroyed a unit of the 12^th Star Guards and the local militia in just a few hours of combat, and now have total control of Toland outside the fence you see behind me. When they landed yesterday they did not hesitate to kill anyone with a camera. I am deeply saddened to report that INN has lost camera man Rick Fields. Rick was killed as he tried to film the battle which took place yesterday. I will continue with updates for as long as I am able. Live from Toland this is Katie Octavian signing off”
Catherine cut the feed, turning the screen off. Smith was as confused as he’d ever been; for a moment no one spoke; then everyone had something to say all at once.
“Who are they?” Smith asked
“What kind of mech was that? Joker chimed in
“An entire regiment of the 12^th Star Guards and the militia in a few hours; that’s not possible is it?” Watanabe added
“We have no idea what we’re up against out there but half the Inner Sphere is under attack by a high tech fighting force that’s rolled over everyone who’s tried to get in the way” Catherine responded. “I don’t really know what’s out there but I do know that the Federated Commonwealth is mobilizing everything and everyone they can to stop this invasion. They are offering three times the going rate for Mercenaries willing to jump into harm’s way as soon as possible.”
“We’re desperately under staffed, but you already knew that” Smith said.
“With what we have now we could easily put two full companies into the fight; we just need people.” Joker added
“I’ve set up a few dozen interviews” Catherine answered “You’ll need to select your new people by the end of the week.”
“These interviews include two dropship crews, and a full technical staff?” Watanabe asked
“We’ll make sure we get everyone we need. Now I need you to go back to the spaceport and brief your people. The Outreach Irregulars have a war to fight.”
She was right, the Outreach Irregulars had a war to fight; so did the rest of the Inner Sphere. Colt was going to get his ‘really deep ****’ after all.

[The Smith]

Wow, okay... I didn't realize exactly how long this story was until right now. I tried to post it all in one go but the forum would have none of it.

Edited by The Smith, 30 September 2012 - 10:48 AM.