By Silver Eagle
Episode 1: Nightmare's Return"They have come
From beyond the deepest stars
For what, we know little, save this
That the Clans have returned
This, too, we know
We shall be
The instrument of their destruction."
-Wolverine Remembrance, Passage 167, Verse 1, Lines 1-7
February 27, 3049
Nadir Jump Point
Uncharted Star System MGC-103-8982
Rimward of the Caliban Nebula, Deep Periphery
The little drone slumbered (as much as a machine can), continuing its dreary watch over an uninhabited star system. Occasionally, it sent a radar ping into the bleak expanse of space, seeking a reply or an unknown spacecraft. For a time, nothing answered.
Things happened slowly for the processor-driven machine. As it observed, the fabric of space began to rend and tear, quantum forces ripped out of phase. In a flash, ships began appearing at the nadir jump point. Focusing on one at the head of the formation, the drone began to scan it with both visual and radar sensors.
SCAN IFF CODE- RECOGNIZE = TRUE
MATCH CODE = SOVETSKII SOYUZ
MATCH ORIG IFF = SLS34212/KHARKOV
SLDFSHIP = TRUE
SCAN INSIGNIA/LOGO- ACQUIRE TARGET = TRUE
MATCH LOGO- ACCESS DATABASE "INSIGNIA1"
KCLAN = TRUE
MATCH CLAN- ACCESS DATABASE "HELLSPAWN"
MATCH DETECTED
CLAN = WOLF
SAVING ALL DATA
SET SECURITY LEVEL = DEFCON1
SETTING JUMP COORDINATES
PREPARING TO TRANSMIT DATA
JUMP
February 28, 3049
Commanding Officer's Quarters
Fort Hallis
Vigilance
Coreward of the Free Rasalhague Republic, Deep Periphery
The Clan War began neither with a bang nor a whimper, but a thump and a muttered curse amidst warning klaxons.
"Flipping overreacting dogbrained techs…" Vice Admiral Grace Cooper raised herself up from the floor, rubbing the back of her head.
Duty hitches on Vigilance were never easy. The Bouncing Betty surveillance drones Clan Wolverine had installed throughout the Deep Periphery were infamously sensitive. Only once before had the entire system gone off; that had been a partial success, heralding the arrival of Wolf's Dragoons in 3005. Most of the time, Hanseatic League or JarnFolk JumpShips would set off a single drone and put the entire recon base at Fort Hallis on edge for a few hours. Commanders of a unit assigned to Vigilance invariably became very light sleepers.
Which kind of "emergency" it was she would have to find out at Recon Command. Pulling on the uniform of her unit, the First Wolverine Air Guards, she strapped on her gun belt and palmed open the door. Crisp night air rushed in, as well as a louder version of the alarm that had made her fall out of bed. Throwing open the door to the recon command chamber, Cooper caught sight of her executive officer, Commander Toru Kuwata.
"For a bunch of screeching Betties you wake me out of a sound sleep? This better be good." The stocky Hellcat pilot glanced over at the technicians frantically scurrying about behind him.
"I got good news and bad news, bwana. Pick your poison."
"Good news first. I need something to stop me from strangling these jittery bastards."
"Well, we ain't getting Bouncing Betty alerts any more."
Grace blinked, nonplussed. "What did they do, shut down the whole sensor net by accident again?"
"Betties shut themselves down." Toru Kuwata's face was ashen. "DEFCON1. Four separate Betties reported Clan WarShips jumping insystem, on their way toward the Inner Sphere. Chain self-detonations all along the sensor net, and we just got visual and radar data on every identified battle group so far. Techs are reading Clans Wolf, Jade Falcon, Ghost Bear and Smoke Jaguar as the strike force."
She leaned against the wall. "Four Clans out of nineteen? Must have been more infighting than just us, then."
"Does that really matter?"
"I suppose not. We've got bigger things to worry about." Pushing away from the wall, she strolled over to the intercom mounted on the wall. Activating the code for a general broadcast, she began to recite the one message she'd dreaded giving since they'd arrived on Vigilance.
"Air Guards, listen up. This is Admiral Cooper. We are at DEFCON1. I say again, DEFCON1. This is not a flipping drill. All hands prep for evacuation. Those assigned to Base Control, prepare to execute the Jinjiro Protocol. That is all." And may God have mercy on our souls.
March 7, 3049
The Storm's Eye
Black Hills, Solaris City
Solaris VII
Tamarind March, Federated Commonwealth
The lecture hall was quiet, almost deathly silent. For any room full of Wolverine warriors this was a rarity. For Haldane's Hurricanes, the self-labeled "baddest, rowdiest mercenaries in the Inner Sphere," it was a first. But the Hurricanes sat still as General Andrea Haldane stepped up to the podium, holding the HPG message that had precipitated this meeting of the entire unit.
Heir to Cassandra Haldane, the "Scarlet Tornado," Andrea Haldane was one of the most feared soldiers in the Inner Sphere at 37, a legend among her peers. House Haldane's stewardship had built a ragtag group of Inner Sphere Wolverines and Star League Defense Force survivors from a struggling combined-arms regiment into the equivalent of an SLDF division over the course of two centuries. Based on that alone, her expression could not be ignored.
"This is the biggest news any Hurricane commander has ever had to deliver. But I've never held anything back from you, and I ain't starting now.
"Solaris Enclave received a Priority One message this morning. Fort Hallis on Vigilance confirms the Kerensky Clans have returned." The room exploded with incredulous shouts and nervous whispers as the rest of the Hurricanes absorbed the information.
"In accordance with the Lazarus Protocol, we're packing up and heading home to prepare for war. Command circuits are already in place for the first leg to Goshen, in the Capellan March. Then it's just a few steps away from the Homeworlds. For Sphere-born Wolverines, I wish your homecoming was under better circumstances, but duty is duty."
Memories and mention of the Wolverine Homeworlds failed to quiet the nervous buzz in the lecture hall. Slowly, one Hurricane officer rose from the front row and strolled up to the stage. Andrea Haldane glanced at her subordinate for a moment, finally yielding the podium, after a wordless conversation with Colonel Matthias Walker.
Commander of the Hurricanes' Second Regiment, the Storm Chasers, Matthias Walker was the best they had. A descendant of former Khan Joel Walker, Matthias personified the Mustangs within the Clan- Blood Houses that had risen up from the "lower" castes to claim a place in the ranks of the great names in Wolverine history. Lanky, short brown hair shaved at the temples like most MechWarriors, he didn't present much of an imposing figure, but his presence on the battlefield spoke volumes.
"That's enough!" Walker's shout quieted the room.
"Listen to yourselves, all of you. When you chose to take up arms, you knew what we were getting into. For more than forty years we've known the Clans were coming back for certain. But since the Dragoons showed up, we've been content to just sit back and whale on them, never daring to think what might happen if their parents decided to join the party." Walker slammed his fist into the podium, a resounding crash echoing through the hall.
"Uncertainty? Fear? A waste of your time!" He spread his arms wide and laughed, a short humorless bark. "Let them come! The Mission's upon us all, from the youngest child to the oldest retiree! Protect, defend and guard the Inner Sphere! The first who thinks to deny this shall answer to all of us. That is the Way. That is the Law." Wrenching the ceremonial sword from his belt, he raised it in the air.
"The task is ours. WE SHALL NOT FAIL!"
His comrades rose as one, brandishing their own weapons. "SO BE IT!"
Matthias Walker only grinned. "Then what the hell are you waiting for? Let's go home."
March 12, 3049
Deck 3 Canteen
Star Lord-class JumpShip Summer Squall
Zenith Jump Point
Galatea
Skye March, Federated Commonwealth
"You hungry for grub or your fifteen minutes of fame, Walker?" Matthias Walker raised his head and caught sight of a fair-haired Major weaving toward him through the lunch crowd.
"Han, you'd have spouted the same bull if you'd been up there. Easiest way in the world to get ten regiments to shut up and take notice. You might have gotten bumped up a rank or two." Johan Engel and Matthias Walker had grown up together in the Homeworlds and served in the Fourth Deneb Light Cavalry. Their paths had diverged soon after the War of 3039, Matthias going to Haldane's Hurricanes, and Johan to a different Wolverine unit, Pike's Predators.
"Bull or not, it's been making the rounds everywhere. You're making a name for yourself among the ladies with that swashbuckling stuff."
"Keep it down!" Matthias hissed. "If Sprite hears that kind of stuff before I get a chance to explain, I'm a dead man."
Colonel Aeron "Sprite" McKenna was not just the commander of the Second Wolverine Jaegers RCT. She was also Matthias Walker's fiancée, who had made it quite clear before her rotation back to the Homeworlds that her future husband had better keep his eyes and hands to himself while he remained in the Inner Sphere. Just as Matthias was descended from a Khan, Aeron was the great-granddaughter of Khan Matthew McKenna, first of the Snow Raven legacies to lead the Wolverines. Her skills- and temper - were not to be trifled with.
Johan Engel's grin did not waver; he wasn't the one who had to worry about Aeron's temper. "Ah, forget Sprite for a minute. I just want to know if Minx is still in your Command Lance."
Lieutenant Rejean Dumatrait lived up to the name she'd chosen, and then some. Statuesque, with red hair that she emphatically refused to cut short or stuff underneath her neurohelmet, she was as tough in the cockpit of her 'Mech as she was outside of it. Engel had met her in his early days at the War College of Goshen, and apparently had forgotten the experience. Matthias hadn't.
"Rejean kicked the crap out of you the last time you made a pass at her, Han. Sure you want to do it again?"
"It's been almost eleven years since then. I've matured. Learned the rules of the game. This'll be completely different."
"Rejean hangs with Tornado Tommy and Big Ben. If anything, it'll be even worse. You even think about making a pass at Minx, you'll have to go through those two knuckleheads first."
Major Jamal Benhadad wasn't just big. The dark-skinned half-Azami towered over every other Hurricane at over seven feet tall. A running joke among the Storm Chasers' techs was that Benhadad's CGR-AC3 Savage Charger was actually a suit of personal exo-armor, rather than an 80-ton BattleMech. Certainly, it moved like an extension of its pilot, attacking with a ferocity that shocked those who knew Benhadad in a civilian capacity.
Lieutenant Thomas Hesketh looked nothing like his nickname at first sight. Quiet and moody, he preferred to make himself known on the battlefield. Where Benhadad was an elite pilot, Hesketh was a crack shot with everything from a flamer to a Gauss rifle. Working together with his comrades, he made the Storm Chasers' Command Lance very nearly unstoppable.
"I thought Big Ben was married. Why does he care?"
"He is married. But Benny and Rejean grew up together on Paradise, and he looks out for her. Tom Hesketh has a crush on her, even though he never does anything about it." Matthias shrugged. "Tell you what. I gotta meet with the rest of the Storm Chasers after lunch, to get the logistical stuff like TDS medications out of the way before we get to Goshen. Bring your best lance, and I'll take you on in a simulator battle. With Ben and Tom, the best way to get on their good side is to kick their butts."
* * *
Simulator Bay
Overlord-class DropShip Trade Wind
Zenith Jump Point
Galatea
Skye March, Federated Commonwealth
"What do you mean it's not in the database?" The warrant officer in charge of the Storm Chasers' backup simulator pods held up a hand to ward off Tommy Hesketh.
"Sir, your 'Mech is a custom model. We don't load configurations of custom, new-tech or Homeworld machines in our "public" simulators as a matter of security. You know how much the FedCom liaison officers love testing out these new reality pods."
Hesketh ran a hand through his shaggy raven hair, turning to take in the rest of the Command Lance. "How do you expect me to kick Engel's ass without my 'Mech? Big Ben and Minx get to use theirs, even if they are flipping antique hulks."
"That antique has saved your life more than once, Thomas. Rejean has found targets for you just as quickly in her 'hulk.' Is it our fault your mother decided to give you a BattleMech for your birthday?" Jamal Benhadad bounced the flat of his hand off the back of Hesketh's head, shutting his lancemate up. "Not all of us are blessed with a parent on Johnston Industries' Board of Directors. You will simply have to find a line BattleMech similar to your own."
"Think of it this way, Tommy. Rank no longer hath its privileges. Han can't use his Liquidator. My upgraded Black Knight is verboten. Besides, when you're in the Sphere, only battalion commanders and above have ever been able to use custom or new-tech machines. You and Minx have gotten around that rule so long you seem to have forgotten it." Matthias deftly stepped between his two feuding officers, and then glanced at the simulator technician. "What do you have, Chief?"
"I can substitute an H5-series Catapult II for the Captain; that should match his 'Mech's current loadout. As for replacing your Black Knight, you got a few choices. How about an 8C Warhammer, or the upgraded version of the Flashman II? There's even a new-model Guillotine; that's 5 tons lighter."
"Just give me the Flashman, Chief. I can figure it out when we get started."
"Let's roll." The origin of the Wolverines' battlecry had long ago been lost to history. All that could be found in the archives was that it had been the last known words of a Terran hero fighting back against impossible odds. To the exiled SLDF soldiers, that had been enough to recommend it.
* * *
Data scrolled across the HUD as Matthias' simulator pod came alive. Throttling his Flashman up to flank speed, he punched up a list of the combatants.
Attacker- Engel
Johan Engel, WHM-8C Warhammer
Jen Chang, LNC 25-01 Lancelot
Gabriel Winthrop, CRK-5003-1 Crockett
Marian Calder, CLN-6C Ranger Chameleon
Defender- Walker
Matthias Walker, FLS-9XB Flashman II
Jamal Benhadad, CGR-AC3 Savage Charger
Thomas Hesketh, CPLT-H5 Catapult II
Rejean Dumatrait, GRF-7CX Griffin X
"All right, people, this is Renard. Choose your targets, and let's get this party started. I'll take the Crockett. Ben?"
"Engel believes he is a crack shot like our Thomas. Let me see if he can do it with that heat factory he chose." Benhadad's amused rumble was punctuated by the din of his 'Mech's feet pounding along at over 80 kph.
Tommy Hesketh's voice had curled itself into his usual battlefield snarl, easily audible over the electronic chatter. "Give me the Lancelot, then. Let's see if mobility can outmatch accuracy."
"Minx here. Don't think you can just dismiss that flipping popgun Chameleon and leave me out of it. Once I get done with it, I'm jumping into one of your fights. Benny, leave a piece of Engel for me. I want to shut him up for good this time."
The onboard speakers crackled as a beam of manmade lightning flashed across the simulated forest clearing. "Get on a private channel before you consign me to the scrapheap!" The enemy Lancelot flashed past for a brief instant, its PPC flashing out towards Hesketh's Catapult, burning a scorched gash across its stubby nose.
"Hah! Jen's on a roll! So much for accuracy, windbag." Hesketh's 'Mech leaped forward on dual ion trails, as he ignited his jumpjets, and let loose with a flight of 15 LRMs, peppering the heavy enemy machine's arms and legs.
"I know that voice! Jen Chang, you conniving hacker witch! You nearly got me washed out of the NAIS with that La Mancha mod!" The young gunslinger's voice broke up slightly as he passed the treeline, vanishing out of sight. In his own cockpit, Matthias rolled his eyes. So much for military decorum. House Chang was mostly known for tactical prowess and a total lack of respect for formality. Jen Chang was a sterling example; her skill with advance reconnaissance and electronic warfare was matched by the legacy of practical jokes she'd played on superior and fellow officers alike. It had gotten so out of hand at NAIS that mentioning her still sent hardened Wolverines scrambling for safety.
"If you lead like you brag, you'd have matched Kai Allard. I gave him the green recruits and you the regular line troops, and you still got your ass kicked, windbag!"
Screw it. Tommy's a big boy. If he loses control, he's only got himself to blame.
Rolling his eyes, Matthias turned his Flashman around and roared towards the Crockett's last known position. Benhadad and Dumatrait had already left, both jumping into the fray on their own, as they usually did. The Command Lance never stuck together unless the situation absolutely warranted it, such as shoring up a weak defensive line or taking out a big target. Just the way I like it. Must be the Clanner in me.
* * *
Jamal Benhadad grinned wolfishly, the smile spreading across his broad face, as he bore down on his target.
"Your time is up, Engel! Do me a favor and die quickly!" He cut loose with everything he had, PPC and laser beams washing liberally over Engel's Warhammer. The heavy 'Mech staggered as more than two tons of armor melted off its chest and arms.
Johan Engel let loose his Warhammer's secret weapon- jump jets. "Not so flipping fast, Ben! You want heat for that berserker 'Mech? Take it!" Leaping behind the Azami's headlong rush, he unleashed a strike of his own. Twin PPCs framed his enemy's machine in a cage of azure flame, six Streak SRMs corkscrewing from the launcher on his right shoulder.
Yellow coolant fluid bathed the Savage Charger's back for a moment as one of the SRMs exploded a heat sink in its torso. Benhadad whipped around and bracketed the Warhammer with both his extended range medium lasers. The sweat on his brow vanished, evaporating as the temperature within his cockpit soared. A faint thrum beneath him was all Big Ben needed to know that his 'Mech was ready for a finishing stroke.
"Well done, Engel! But you should scout your opponents better before you fire at the wrong spot!" Roaring towards his opponent, he activated his own jump jets in a headlong leap, knocking the enemy 'Mech to the ground with a professional-quality shoulder block. The Savage Charger's triple-strength myomer made all of its physical attacks stronger than normal; a fact many of his opponents had realized far too late to save themselves. Switching one of the HUDs to a schematic of the Warhammer, he found what he needed. Coring out a small section of the heavy 'Mech's center torso armor with his lasers, Benhadad punched downwards into the fallen machine's core, until he encountered resistance. Closing his 'Mech's fist around it, he pulled back, revealing the Warhammer's gyroscope, now simply a mass of crushed, mangled metal.
"Better than last time, but still not good enough. You will simply have to find another way to impress Rejean."
* * *
She'd never liked thinking much in a fight. It wasn't that she was stupid. Minx had her moments. Serving in a lance with the rising star of Clan Wolverine took the pressure off her to come up with original ideas in combat. At the moment, she was regretting her laziness. Marian Calder had disappeared almost as soon as the battle had started, sniping from cover in her Ranger Chameleon. It was more annoying than effective, given the Chameleon's lack of heavy weaponry and her own Griffin X's jump jets. All the same, it was getting on Minx's nerves.
Dialing up the gain on her active probe, she scanned the thick forest in front of her for the umpteenth time. A faint echo on the radar indicated the Chameleon's last known position; hoisting herself aloft on her jump jets, Minx dashed off in the opposite direction. Calder's antics were finally settling into a pattern. The enemy pilot was circling about, trying to confuse her. Obviously doesn't know me very well.
Almost before Minx caught sight of the Chameleon's pointy "ears" and round head, she was firing, leading the racing 'Mech for an open shot. Three medium pulse lasers reached out and opened steaming holes all over the Chameleon's right arm and torso. Calder's luck held true as the Griffin's PPC missed wide, blasting a nearby pine tree into ash.
"Who's the prey and who's the predator now?" The Chameleon's response was a blast from its twin ER large lasers, as it sped off into the distance. Both beams sped past the Griffin as Minx jumped it out of the way, firing her own PPC. She gritted her teeth to suppress a frustrated scream, watching her opponent disappear behind another tree, letting it take the brunt of the attack.
Trees, eh…? It's a good thing this is only a simulation. Hey, wait. Her active probe was practically screaming its head off at her, still tracking the Chameleon's progress through the forest. Marian Calder wasn't much for subtlety anymore, mowing down the trees in her way.
Her mouth curled upwards slowly, a gesture that could have quickened the pulse of Johan Engel, or scared the wits out of her commanding officer. Pushing the obstacles aside, are we? How about some help?
The Griffin leapt forward with its typical agility, covering ground in a blur. Twisting about quickly, Minx swept fire from her pulse lasers across the scenery, a hail of ruby darts spitting forth from her 'Mech's broad chest.
Marian Calder's 'Mech was faster than hers, but speed didn't help much when trees began falling across the Chameleon's path. To her credit, Calder turned and faced her foe, realizing she'd been boxed in. The Chameleon fired both its Streak missile packs, four SRMs impacting high on the Griffin's arm-mounted armor baffles and cracking the ferro-fibrous plate.
A deadly fog of ionized air lit the space between the two 'Mechs, red and green laser beams crisscrossing about, followed by an occasional particle beam. Neither escaped unscathed; angry red gashes traced an ugly scar across the melted metal and transpex of the Chameleon's head and torso. The unhealthy white sheen of myomer showed from more than one chink in the Griffin's arms and legs. Yellows and even a red light or two glowed on Minx's HUD, inducing a wince. Not an even match, but if she keeps scoring with those lasers it will be. Got to find a way to disarm her…
The ground beneath the combatants was littered with craters, the product of over 100 tons of steel and electronics jumping here and there. Now or never. Best finish this while I can still lend a hand somewhere else. As she came down from a jump, Minx sent a thought via her neurohelmet, making the Griffin flex its knees, as though to launch itself skyward again. The Chameleon flinched aside, trying to gauge its opponent's next move. That instant of hesitation doomed Marian Calder. A PPC bolt plowed into the Chameleon's head, blowing the canopy outwards in a spray of glass and flame. The 'Mech crashed to earth, its pilot incinerated.
Never piss me off in a simulator. The legacy of House Dumatrait's female warriors was one of the few things Minx had felt like accepting from her mother when she'd left Paradise. Often overshadowed by their male relatives' scientific successes, even within the Wolverines, Dumatrait women were still feared by many as Les Dames du Mort, the Ladies of Death. That reputation had brought her to Matthias Walker's attention, and into the Storm Chasers. She normally couldn't indulge her inborn bloodlust in most real-life battles, but simulator practice was another story, as fellow Storm Chasers had learned to their chagrin. There was something to be said about the reality pods being a little too realistic.
Watch out, Engel. This is one day that Death won't be taking a holiday…
* * *
Incoherent rage wasn't something you could usually associate with Tommy Hesketh. Sulking, and maybe the occasional tantrum, yes. But never blind fury; he usually left that up to Big Ben. Yet it was his voice Hesketh heard dimly, screaming curses over the radio at Jen Chang.
She didn't understand anything about him. Not many did; perhaps only Colonel Walker knew anything about Tom Hesketh's inner demons, the emotional and physical torment he and his mother had borne to keep the Wolverine secrets from being divulged by his non-Wolverine father. Money didn't mean much to Dad, but having two people completely under his thumb? That bastard enjoyed it. Or at least he had, until an off-duty member of the Ministry of Medicine overheard him blackmailing his family when Tommy was 10. Roger Hesketh's body was found mangled and burnt in the ruins of his hovercar, at the base of a seaside cliff the next morning. MoM took its job of ensuring Wolverine children's safety very seriously.
After that, he'd been free to do what he wanted. Tommy shied away from Wolverine society, resentfully keeping the secrets he'd paid for. Jen Chang wasn't entirely to blame for his near-washout at NAIS; half the time he'd been mired in a jazz bar in Avalon City or an arcade, farting about on a 'Mech simulator. It was easier to forget your troubles when you threw all caution to the wind, caring little for the consequences. His gunnery skills hadn't suffered any for the practice, to which he credited his NAIS degree.
Gunnery wouldn't save him from the Clans if they caught up to him. Tommy had been on edge ever since the announcement on Solaris; Jen's needling wasn't helping. How do you tell the guys that watch your back you don't have the guts to stand on the firing line with them? It just wasn't done. So here he was taking out his frustrations on the nearest target instead. The rage was a problem. His few missile volleys had fallen short, and he preferred not to waste Gauss shots, especially when he wasn't in control of where he was shooting. That left endless, boring rounds of exchanging laser fire with the Lancelot. He'd hit more trees than 'Mech armor, while dodging Jen Chang's heavier energy weapons. If she weren't so annoying, he might actually have appreciated her skills.
There would be no mutual appreciation. Only victory or defeat. At this point Tommy didn't really care which one would happen to him. Jumping sideways, he spread fire from his lasers across the clearing into the stand of trees where the Lancelot lurked. After dashing off to the northwest he swiveled the Catapult's torso about. The recon pilot was only now beginning to track his movement, turning to spit the Catapult on the point of a PPC.
"Laugh at this!" Nothing felt better after a frustrating battle than hearing (and feeling) the enormous recoil of a Gauss rifle. The Gauss slug cored into the Lancelot's right torso, accompanied by a burst of azure energy spewing forth as its PPC exploded. The Lancelot fired an instant later with its remaining weapons, targeting his one weak spot. Tommy's head rang as it bounced off the command couch; the pod rocked from side to side under the force of an ammunition explosion.
Without the special equipment most 'Mechs carried to restrain the force of such explosions, the Catapult staggered, warning klaxons sounding a deafening dirge in his ears. Red lights were liberally painted over the 'Mech's left arm and torso to signify the loss of nearly half his weaponry. Cursing even louder, Tommy wrenched his machine straight and cut loose with his remaining lasers and Gauss rifle. Little tongues of golden flame greeted him as the Gauss slug cored into the PPC's former location and through part of the Lancelot's engine shielding.
His brief moment of celebration came too soon. Jen Chang speared him with her large laser again, smoke pouring out of the new rents in the Catapult's armor. Just not my day. Tying all his weapons into one interlock circuit, he thumbed up the protective cover on his eject button. Tommy pushed the footpedals underneath him and urged the Catapult into the air one last time on unsteady verniers. Lower the boom!
Tommy's last salvo staggered the Lancelot long enough to lock his trajectory in on its upper torso. As his dying 'Mech descended from the sky, he thumbed the eject button. And we leave the rest to chance.
Grudging admiration was his last impulse before the simulator pod lights died around him. Out of the corner of his eye, he'd seen a similar command couch launching from the Lancelot's head. Ties suck, but they're better than having to listen to her crow about a win.
His misgivings would not be as easy to deal with.
* * *
Adrenaline was the ultimate drug, no matter what the old MoM posters had said when he was a kid. That was Matthias Walker's belief. Watching tracers and lasers flying past his viewscreen brought him a singular thrill that few things, other than Aeron McKenna, could match.
At the moment those tracer rounds and energy beams were coming from the Crockett, popping up every now and then behind a cliff face near the forest. Not the chivalrous type. Good for him; we try that against the Clans and we're toast. Me? I don't think so.
The Flashman was far faster, and could jump further, as it was currently doing. Unable to shoot down the flying target, the Crockett contented itself with retreating and firing its autocannons at him again. Flakes of armor crumbled off his 'Mech's torso, the LB-X cluster ammunition spreading out like a shotgun blast. Flesh wound. If he had the balls for it he'd have DFA'ed me with that weight advantage.
Feeling a little sadistic, Matthias trained his weapons on one of the Crockett's arms. The Flashman's sophisticated targeting computer, added to his long years of experience, let him place his shots pretty much anywhere he wanted. Walking fire from his pulse lasers up one arm and down the next, he neutralized one autocannon, then the next. Real fights rarely gave him the chance to take apart his enemies like this.
Methodical destruction fit his mood today. Matthias contemplated a lot of things during battle; action helped his thought processes more than anything else. What weighed on his mind now was something that had confounded the Wolverines since the beginning- the "public face" of the Clan. Or the lack of a public face.
Two hundred years had been kind to them. Hideyoshi Matsuda's expertise, and the backing of Kieran Winthrop, had given their Central Intelligence Department the financial and social support to expand throughout the Inner Sphere. CID agents had spread into every major House intelligence agency, from the DMI to the LIC, ISF, SAFE, the Maskirovka and even the dreaded ROM. Any time a House had become suspicious about new mercenary units or interstellar corporations, the CID had squelched the investigation- as well as the people behind it- immediately. Nothing escaped their attention, from Star League caches being discovered, to the perfidy of a certain March Lord Hasek on Verlo. Clinton's Cutthroats had never been seen again in the Inner Sphere, but their descendants had returned 20 years later with nobody the wiser.
Things were totally different now. Mercenaries they were, but the Hurricanes could not simply go and defend worlds under attack without signing a contract with the House that owned them. Homeworld units had never even been to the Inner Sphere; the 'Mechs and technology they used were far superior to anything Spheroid Wolverines had ever been issued. The mere sight of one of their 'Mechs in battle would make anyone suspicious.
Outing the Wolverines would be like painting a gigantic "Kill Me" on each of their foreheads; Matthias and his friends had no illusions about the Annihilation being forgotten. Few enough realized that now, or cared. By 3000, with few enemies that could not be dealt with, the Wolverines had, almost inevitably, turned on each other. Within a decade factions had become entrenched in the fabric of their society, for better or worse.
House Hallis had led the last stand on Circe, impetuous to the last. Their current leader, Edele Hallis, was now Khan, something many had quietly expressed misgivings about in private. Her allies, the self-professed Avengers, firmly believed in taking the fight to the Clans and destroying them utterly, perhaps even returning to the Kerensky Cluster to finish the job. Avenger rhetoric tolerated the veil of secrecy, but it was grudging at best.
Ever the outsiders, Raven-descended House McKenna had led many of the other Wolverines in proclaiming themselves Guardians. Their mission was much like the one their SLDF forefathers had embraced- to protect the Inner Sphere from threats both internal and external. The Clans would be fought if they arrived, but otherwise Guardians preferred to concentrate on their Inner Sphere charges. Secrecy contributed to their success, and the CID was firmly behind them in that regard.
Many in the Homeworlds no longer cared to think about either the Clans or the Inner Sphere, safe in their distance from Kerensky's children. These Isolationists simply concerned themselves with protecting the Clan from Periphery dangers or going about their lives in peace.
Many families simply refused to take sides, feeling that it demeaned the Clan. Others doled out political favors to any side that asked, trading in a unique form of capital. Whatever their reasons, they remained officially Neutral. That was all anybody really cared to know these days. The fact that House McEvedy, the Founder's House, remained steadfastly Neutral after over two centuries, was enough to convince many to give up on politics altogether.
Not so for one McEvedy, however. Newly appointed head of her House, 22-year-old Tristan McEvedy had picked up the nickname "Retro Girl" for her exhaustive research into old Clan customs and tactics. Critics all over the Clan had howled in protest when she went into the woods of the Homeworld capital, Sarah's Hope, hunted down a wolverine, and came back wearing its pelt as a cape, dredging up long-buried memories of the final Clan Council meeting her ancestor had attended on Strana Mechty. Ever since, Tristan had made it clear that her first action at the front lines would be to challenge any Clanner to a Trial of Grievance, and continue from there. The Guardians, and even many of the Neutrals, had not been pleased. But just as the storm of criticism reached its peak, it stopped as quickly as it had begun. The word of a Khan will do that. Edele Hallis' support of her protégé reduced the criticism to a silent, sullen buzz, but the tension was still there, simmering beneath the surface.
That, and more, faced the Spheroid Wolverines as they made their way back to their supposed home. May as well practice fighting now, people, because the way things are going we might just have a war before the war. Matthias Walker could only hope otherwise.
NOTES: We begin with a look at the 4 factions that make up Wolverine politics…
Political Alliances:
Avengers (12): Hallis, Pike, Taniguchi, Sutherland, Kuwata, DeSouza, Takayama, Zhukov, Brandon, Haldane, Figaro, DraskovicGuardians (14): McKenna, Walker, Cooper, McCorkell, Engel, Eisen, Fife, Chang, Dumatrait, Gunnarson, Sukhanov, Victorine, Matsuda, MacAndrew
Isolationists (6): Rogers, Mulroney, Calder, Liu, Tetarenko, Applegate
Neutral (9): McEvedy, Brodeur, Winthrop, Aiken, Suarez, Chen, Schneider, Gaffney, Gagné
Bonus time! For anyone's who curious about the new designs you saw…
CGR-AC3 Savage Charger
Tech Base: Inner Sphere (Level 2)
Mech Type: Biped
Tonnage: 80
Battle Value: 1,775
Equipment Mass
Internal Structure: Standard w/Triple Strength Myomer 8
(TSM Crits: 2 LA, 1 LT, 1 RT, 2 RA)
Engine: 400 XL 26.5
Walking MP: 5
Running MP: 8
Jumping MP: 4
Heat Sinks: 15(30) 5 tons
Gyro: 4
Cockpit: 3
Targeting: Standard 0
Armor Factor: Ferro-Fibrous 247 14
(FF Loc: 2 LA, 3 LT, 3 RT, 2 RA, 2 LL, 2 RL)
Actuators: L: Sh+UA+LA+H, R: Sh+UA+LA+H
Internal Armor
Structure Value
Head 3 9
Center Torso 25 38
Center Torso(rear) 12
R/L Torso 17 26
R/L Torso(rear) 8
R/L Arm 13 26
R/L Leg 17 34
Weapons and Ammo Location Critical Tonnage
Guardian ECM Suite CT 2 1.5
ER PPC LA 3 7
ER Medium Laser LT 1 1
ER Large Laser RA 2 5
ER Medium Laser RT 1 1
Jump Jet LT 1 1
Jump Jet LT 1 1
Jump Jet RT 1 1
Jump Jet RT 1 1
CPLT-H5 Catapult II
Tech Base: Inner Sphere (Level 2)
Mech Type: Biped
Tonnage: 65
Battle Value: 1,762
Equipment Mass
Internal Structure: Endo Steel 3.5
(ES Loc: 5 LA, 3 LT, 2 CT, 3 RA)
Engine: 260 XL 7
Walking MP: 4
Running MP: 6
Jumping MP: 4
Heat Sinks: 12(24) 2 tons
Gyro: 3
Cockpit: 3
Armor Factor: Standard 211 13.5
Actuators: L: Sh+UA, R: Sh+UA
Internal Armor
Structure Value
Head 3 9
Center Torso 21 32
Center Torso(rear) 10
R/L Torso 15 23
R/L Torso(rear) 7
R/L Arm 10 20
R/L Leg 15 30
Weapons and Ammo Location Critical Tonnage
ER Medium Laser LA 1 1
ER Medium Laser LA 1 1
LRM 15 LT 3 7
LRM 15 Ammo (8) LT 1 1
ER Medium Laser RA 1 1
ER Medium Laser RA 1 1
Gauss Rifle RT 7 15
Gauss Rifle Ammo (16) RT 2 2
Jump Jet LL 1 1
Jump Jet LL 1 1
Jump Jet RL 1 1
Jump Jet RL 1 1
GRF-7CX Griffin X
Tech Base: Inner Sphere (Level 3)
Mech Type: Biped
Tonnage: 55
Battle Value: 1,708
Equipment Mass
Internal Structure: Standard 5.5
Engine: 275 XL 8
Walking MP: 5
Running MP: 8
Jumping MP: 5
Heat Sinks: 14(28) 4 tons
Gyro: 3
Cockpit: 3
Targeting: Variable-Range 0.5
Armor Factor: Ferro-Fibrous 185 10.5
Actuators: L: Sh+UA+LA+H, R: Sh+UA+LA+H
Internal Armor
Structure Value
Head 3 9
Center Torso 18 27
Center Torso(rear) 9
R/L Torso 13 20
R/L Torso(rear) 6
R/L Arm 9 18
R/L Leg 13 26
Weapons and Ammo Location Critical Tonnage
Medium X-Pulse Laser LA 1 2
Medium X-Pulse Laser LA 1 2
Bloodhound Active Probe LT 3 2
Medium X-Pulse Laser LT 1 2
ER PPC RA 3 7
Angel ECM Suite 2 2
Jump Jet LL 1 0.5
Jump Jet LL 1 0.5
Jump Jet RL 1 0.5
Jump Jet RL 1 0.5
Jump Jet CT 1 0.5
LQD-TR1 Liquidator (Major Johan "Han" Engel's Normal 'Mech)
Tech Base: Clan (Level 3)
Mech Type: Biped
Tonnage: 60
Battle Value: 2,046
Equipment Mass
Internal Structure: Endo Steel 3
(ES Crits: 1 LA, 2 LT, 2 RT, 1 CT, 1 RA)
Engine: 240 XL 6
Walking MP: 4
Running MP: 6
Jumping MP: 0
Heat Sinks: 11(22) 1 ton
Gyro: 3
Cockpit: 3
Targeting: Standard 0
Armor Factor: Ferro-Fibrous 201 10.5
(FF Crits: 1 LA, 1 LT, 1 RA, 2 LL, 2 RL)
Actuators: L: Sh+UA+LA+H, R: Sh+UA+LA+H
Internal Armor
Structure Value
Head 3 9
Center Torso 20 30
Center Torso(rear) 10
R/L Torso 14 21
R/L Torso(rear) 7
R/L Arm 10 20
R/L Leg 14 28
Weapons and Ammo Location Critical Tonnage
ER Medium Laser H 1 1
Gauss Rifle LA 6 12
ER Medium Laser LT 1 1
ER Medium Laser LT 1 1
Gauss Rifle Ammo (16) LT 2 2
Gauss Rifle RA 6 12
Angel ECM Suite RT 2 1.5
ER Medium Laser RT 1 1
Gauss Rifle Ammo (16) RT 2 2
CLN-6C Ranger Chameleon
Tech Base: Inner Sphere (Level 2)
Mech Type: Biped
Tonnage: 50
Battle Value: 1,404
Equipment Mass
Internal Structure: Endo Steel w/Triple Strength Myomer 2.5
(ES Crits: 3 LA, 4 LT, 4 RT, 2 CT, 2 RA)
(TSM Crits: 2 LT, 2 RT, 2 RA)
Engine: 300 XL 9.5
Walking MP: 6
Running MP: 9
Jumping MP: 6
Heat Sinks: 13(26) 3 tons
Gyro: 3
Cockpit: 3
Targeting: Standard 0
Armor Factor: Standard 169 11
Actuators: L: Sh+UA+LA+H, R: Sh+UA+LA+H
Internal Armor
Structure Value
Head 3 9
Center Torso 16 24
Center Torso(rear) 8
R/L Torso 12 18
R/L Torso(rear) 6
R/L Arm 8 16
R/L Leg 12 24
Weapons and Ammo Location Critical Tonnage
ER Large Laser LA 2 5
ER Large Laser RA 2 5
Streak SRM 2 LT 1 1.5
Streak SRM 2 Ammo (50) LT 1 1
Streak SRM 2 RT 1 1.5
Streak SRM 2 Ammo (50) RT 1 1
Jump Jet LT 1 0.5
Jump Jet RT 1 0.5
Jump Jet LL 1 0.5
Jump Jet LL 1 0.5
Jump Jet RL 1 0.5
Jump Jet RL 1 0.5
FLS-9XB Flashman II
Tech Base: Inner Sphere (Level 3)
Mech Type: Biped
Tonnage: 75
Battle Value: 1,781
Equipment Mass
Internal Structure: EndoSteel w/Triple Strength Myomer 4
(ES Crits: 3 LA, 2 LT, 2 RT, 3 RA, 2 LL, 2 RL)
(TSM Crits: 1 LA, 1 H, 1 CT, 1 RT, 2 RA)
Engine: 375 XL 19.5
Walking MP: 5
Running MP: 8
Jumping MP: 5
Heat Sinks: 15(30) 5 tons
Gyro: 4
Cockpit: 3
Targeting: Targeting Computer 4
Armor Factor: Standard 231 14.5
Actuators: L: Sh+UA+LA, R: Sh+UA+LA
Internal Armor
Structure Value
Head 3 9
Center Torso 23 35
Center Torso(rear) 11
R/L Torso 16 24
R/L Torso(rear) 8
R/L Arm 12 24
R/L Leg 16 32
Weapons and Ammo Location Critical Tonnage
Large X-Pulse Laser LA 2 7
Large X-Pulse Laser RA 2 7
ER Medium Laser LT 1 1
ER Medium Laser RT 1 1
Targeting Computer LT 4 4
Jump Jet LT 1 1
Jump Jet LT 1 1
Jump Jet RT 1 1
Jump Jet RT 1 1
Jump Jet CT 1 1