July 2nd, 3040
Firebase Foxtrot
Delevan
Major Christopher Anderson of the Delevan Guards adjusted the cuffs of his uniform jacket, waiting impatiently for the arrival of the mercenaries. They had been due to land an hour ago, and their tardiness miffed him.
Damnable sellswords. They can’t even land on time, and we’re to trust to their aid in mopping up these pirate scum? He thought darkly to himself. A growing rumble began to shake the ground, and he looked up, seeing the battle-scarred bulk of the Gladius lower itself towards the ground, balanced on a pillar of plasma fire.
He frowned sharply at the disrepair of the ship, tattered plates breaking away here and there under the stresses of landing. They can’t even keep their ship in good repair!
As soon as the DropShip settled itself onto its landing legs, he began striding briskly towards the spheroid vessel, noting how the doors to the Mech bays were already fully open. At least the scum were punctual in one regard. He stared in mounting surprise as mechs began pouring out of the ship, coming to a halt a hundred meters away as several mechs used their jump jets to bound away from the ramps in plasma-assisted leaps and bounds. Ahead, a four-legged Scorpion charged down the ramp, accelerating steadily as it made for the main road out of the base, a Guillotine charging hard after it. A Warhammer followed straight after, and Major Anderson noticed the ‘1’ painted on its shoulder. Assuming it was this ragtag band’s commander, he raised a hand in a symbol to halt, standing in the mech’s path as it began moving at full stride.
Raising his voice, he tried to for clear and firm tones of command. “I say there, halt at once and tell me what you are do-iiiing!” he said, ducking despite himself as the Mech’s right foot swung over his head, the breeze knocking his hat off his head, sending it skittering behind him until it met its unfortunate fate under the broad tread of the heavy Mech. Ignoring the indignity he had suffered, the pilot continued onward, deftly maneuvering on the pavement to take corners at the Mech’s full running speed.”
“If I was any guess, I’d say they’re doing me a favor and making sure my LZ is actually secure. Given the incredible lack of intelligence your Guard has already displayed.” A sharp voice said behind him, amusement buried under icy tones. Straightening, Major Anderson flushed and turned to speak sharply, only to quail under the anger of Captain Shraddha Pasha.
“You said the airspace was secured! What the hell do you call a Leopard and its fighter wing doing blockade work?!” Captain Pasha began, advancing on the Major with righteous fury. His own indignation was lost in the tide of her fury as he began to babble a mixture of apologies, excuses and justifications.
Hundreds of meters away, Han Zoku’s lips skinned back in a sharp smile as he caught the beginning of her tirade, and he wished he had time to listen to all of it. Focusing his attention and the Mech’s sensors back to the general surroundings, he continued to issue orders, sending the Hammerers to patrol the local area out to 20 klicks in a spiraling pattern. The last thing they needed was to find an enemy formation ready to pounce on their base.
July 4th, 3040
Firebase Foxtrot
Delevan
Han piloted his Warhammer deftly back towards the base, the other mechs of the Command Lance arranged behind him in a loose V shape. The patrols of the last two days had been a bust, but had been good for getting the lance some much needed practical experience in coordination outside the confines of the simulators.
As he passed through the gate into the base, his eyes took in the form of the Union-class dropship towering over the nearby field. Ship crewmen were guiding teams of ground crew in the complex task of replacing and shaping armor plates to fit the spheroid DropShip. As if summoned by his gaze, his comm panel pinged.
“Captain? We have a request from Captain Pasha to come see her at the DropShip at your earliest convenience.” One of the base communication technicians relayed.
“Base, Understood. Inform the Captain I’ll be there in half an hour.” Han replied as the Lance slowed to a careful walk to avoid stepping on the people and vehicles scurrying back and forth across their path in the busy base.
A half-hour later, a freshly showered Han Zoku stepped off the back of a small personnel transport by the Gladius, which zipped onward as the driver continued making his rounds picking up and dropping off people. Familiar with the ship and its layout, he made his way onboard and knocked on the door of the Captain’s dayroom.
“Enter!” she called, and he let himself in. “Captain, you wished to see me?” he said politely as he offered a short bow.
Shraddha chuckled and waved him to a chair. “Cut the formality, Captain, this is purely informal.”
Han smiled as he took a seat. “What, no promotion? I’m wounded.”
Shraddha chuckled again and gestured towards the wall, and presumably outside. “We’re on the ground again, and I’m once again one among many. It’ll be different again once my baby can fly, but we’re stuck groundside for about two months, they estimate.”
Han raised an eyebrow “That long? Did you suffer worse hits then it looked like? I would have thought the armor damage would have been done in a week.”
Shraddha nodded and leaned back in her comfortable chair. “Indeed, the repairs are simple enough, but we’re having trouble getting the parts we need to do the job right. The plates need to be shaped to the curve of the DropShip’s hull, and this spaceport has only one cutting system capable of doing the work. We’re also not the only one needing extensive repairs – in fact, we’re pretty far down the list.
The government is keeping it quiet, but I’ll share this anyway – the Triumph-class DropShip the Untouchable proved the folly of naming your ship such things and went in hard after it tangled with the pirate’s Overlord. The Guards moved to secure the site and look for survivors, but…”
Han shook his head. “I’d be surprised if there were many. They quietly removed Carl’s Cannonheads from the Order of Battle. I'm guessing even if anyone did survive, they and their equipment will be quietly folded into the Guards.”
The two shared a bitter smirk at the standard trampling of a House on the rights of any mercenary to have the misfortune to end up with bad luck in their service.
Captain Pasha looked at Han with a slight smile “Well, our bad luck is your good luck. Until we’re ready to run that blockade again, we’re stuck here, and I don’t see a reason why your techs can’t make use of our transport bays for repair work. And perhaps in return, when they have downtime they can help us get armor fitted just a bit faster. Working by hand is hellishly slow, but we’ll be stuck here for months more otherwise.”
Han nodded his agreement and they shook on the deal before he left to see to his unit and Captain Pasha returned to the endless requisition forms the local government was requiring.
July 8th, 3040
Firebase Foxtrot
Delevan
Han leaned back in his chair at the head of the conference table, the rest of the unit lining the conference table in the base building, except for Konrad Lai, who stood next to the presentation screen. “Alright, Konrad, what’s the problem?” Han said by way of calling the meeting to order.
“Problem? Problem is our employers idiots. Problem is ass-covering like desert worlder visiting ice planet. Lieutenant gives Captain pretty story, Captain gives Major prettier story, Major gives Colonel very pretty story, and Colonel give Baron most pretty story. Talk to enlisted, story no longer pretty.” Konrad said, his accent getting worse as he got more agitated.
“Wait, slow down. What story, what are you talking about?” Martin said, looking confused.
Konrad took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down. “Count, he is saying that militia fought pirates, won big battle, now just cleanup like with mop, yes?” A few heads nodded in agreement.
“Not true. Pretty story. Militia, pirates, they fight. Lots of damage to both, that is true. However! Militia run back home, leave behind destroyed equipment, lick wounds. Pirates, they having three months now, duct tape and weld tanks and mechs back together.”
Voices murmured as they pieced together what Konrad meant, and Han leaned forward, eyes intent.
“So what you’re saying is that the militia lost three months ago, and the pirates have had that time and the salvage from both sides to put their forces back together again.”
Konrad nodded firmly. “Yes! Just so. The men I talk with and buy drinks for and am buddy-buddy with, they say pirates even stronger then when they first come. Not as good, too many were foot soldiers, now drive tanks and mechs, but more tanks, more mechs. Militia, regiment only on paper. Reinforced company, maybe two companies.”
“Son of a-“ Han said, cutting himself off. Most of the rest fill in the phrase with profanity in every language spoken in the Inner Sphere. As the outpouring of stunned anger fades, Xidonius raises a hand. “Cap? Does this count as breaking the contract from their end?”
Han shook his head slowly. “No… not yet. Nothing in the contract gives hard numbers for what we were facing, and we’re still hired to support the militia in dealing with them. However, these sorts of failures in intelligence doesn’t give me any great feelings of trust in what they say.”
Jack leaned back, flicking through a deck of cards distractedly. “So we keep on taking the missions they give us, and that’s that?”
Han nodded “We have to honor the contract we signed, and that means taking orders – we’re operating as a guest unit to the Guard, after all, not on our own. But I’m taking this up with Count Cambert - maybe hearing it from outside the command structure will get them looking at the picture honestly rather than trying to cover their own asses all the way up the line.”
Jack put the deck down precisely in front of him and leaned forward, eyes intent. “And if not?”
Han smiled. “We’re one jump away from New Avalon. I attended NAMA, and while I wasn’t any great friends with the faculty there, a summary of what’s going on here sent to the ones I know better will get routed onward to the AFFC…”
Brenner smiled as he finished “And when they figure out what a mess this has become, a RCT will be right over.”
Zhou looked around. “Won’t that piss off the Baron?”
“What a shame.” Han said softly.
Poll
4 (100%)
Author
Topic: Let's Play MegaMek (Against the Bot campaign) (Read 73974 times)