Part 409: Combat Theater Vote 14 Results
Combat Theater Vote Results:- Redacted Redacted Redacted wins Redacted Redacted (28 votes)
- Adrian McKenna still has a fair chance in her Trial of Position (21 votes)
- The Kalma-Youngblood Mercenary Company, LLC. (name pending) (16 votes) havent found anyone who meets their high standards
- King of the Pirates (16 votes) gets to stay on the books for a while
- Thomas Hogarth attended a dinner function and missed the Steel Viper delegation by minutes, Theres No Way Ill Lose (10 votes)
- The Widowmakers and Goliath Scorpions havent managed to find each other yet in Maelstrom (4 votes)
- People actually voted to get nuked by the Taurians in Larsha under Seige (4 votes)
- No one wanted to dodge Orbital Strikes in A Falling Hammer (0 votes), or faff about with the Ice Hellions Harmless Rebellion (0 votes)
The briefing auditorium fell silent as the booming footfalls of something huge and unexpected shook the sheetrock walls. Prepared for the show, the old hands in the back just grinned silently to each other as the new inductees in the front rows shifted nervously in their seats. Although shed been in this room three times over the course of her career Sarah still found herself smiling in wicked anticipation along with the others even as the rhythmic noise ceased almost as suddenly as itd started.
Some idiot in the front row coughed.
Without warning, the front wall of the auditorium buckled as something huge and heavy forced its way through the sheet rock. The newbies in the front row practically fell out of their seats in a mad dash to escape while the veterans in the back simply laughed. It was a hazing ritual theyd all gone through themselves, and not one of the veterans had to move an inch when a voice boomed.
Siddown, and shaddup!
The massive suit of olive-drab power armor stood oblivious to the destruction itd wrought on the wall. There were no supports there, no power conduits, and the reason for the high ceilings and bare concrete floors wouldve been brutally obvious even to the thickest of newbies. Those who had either managed to escape or who had spectacularly failed to stay in their seats scrambled for them again as the troopers in the back rows fell to sudden, amused silence.
Ladies, the speakers voice boomed. Sarah extended her right arm in an instant, her middle finger extended towards the man in full power armor. The battlesuit canted forward slightly, as though the speaker were respectfully bowing his head. and Sarah. Welcome or welcome back to the finest combined-arms division in the Rim Worlds Republic, the Minnesota Three-Thirty-First!
Sarahs voice rose with the other veterans in a combined cheer that mightve rivaled a BattleMechs autocannon in volume. Some of the denser newbies joined in a half-second too late and kept cheering a half-second too long, while the smart ones kept their traps shut. The BattleArmor stepped forward, towering over a man-sized podium that barely seemed to pass its knees.
Returning veterans, the speaker drawled, You have no idea how proud and happy I am that youve decided to give us another opportunity to get you all killed. Newbies, you picked a bad time to join us. Normally wed give you six months to get to know us before dropping The Revelation on your fool heads; but we simply dont have the time. What Im about to tell you leaves this room only over your bullet-riddled corpses, so if you feel youre in over your heads or dont think you can keep your traps shut, the power armor twisted, its right arm smashing through still more sheet rock as though pointing at the massive hole the suit had made on entry. Heres the door. Get the fuck out.
Sarah blinked, and leaned forward as their faceless instructor broke the script shed been expecting. None of the newbies moved, they probably thought itd been a joke. Her hand fell to the laser pistol on her hip and the faint click of several dozen holster snaps being freed in unison still wasnt enough to make any of the new meat bug out. The returning members of the 331st had grown deadly serious, anyone they caught talking would be quietly washed out.
Your funeral, the speaker finally said after several minutes silence. He turned back to the assembled audience. The 331st isnt just the most elite military unit in the New Rim Worlds Republic. Were also the last survivors of Clan Wolverine. For those of you who dont pay attention to the news coming from the Inner Sphereand believe me, normally Id be praising your good sense rather than calling you fucking stupidthe Clans are the invaders who are currently laying waste to large sections of the Lyran Commonwealth and Draconis Combine. What you dont know is that theyre what Kerenskys SLDF turned into after spending way too much time alone in deep space. They tried to kill us once, and theyre coming here to try to do it again.
Those of you who are more familiar with the score are probably wondering: If were also the Clans, dont we hate Our Supreme and Glorious Leader, President Amaris? Some of the newbies laughed, the speaker waited until the last awkward vestiges died away.
We do.
The BattleArmor twisted, as though the pilot was taking satisfaction in the shocked expressions on the faces in the front rows. But, he continued theatrically, Amaris wasnt the one who tried to kill every man, woman and child who just happened to be born a member of Clan Wolverine. They will do the same here, to any who just happened to be born under the flag of the New Rim World Republic. This is not news to those few of you who share our ancestry. For those we have just adopted, you have joined a warrior tradition born a thousand light years from the Inner Sphere. By joining us, you must give up your history, your past, and your families to join ours. You dont have a last name anymore and if your name happens to match that of a living soldier? Tough shit, youll have to change it. We dont care who you were. We dont care what youve done, or to who. We only care that you are with us and that you protect those who dont fight for the duration of your service. Once your service with us ends well protect you any your future families with our lives for the rest of yours.
Now, most of you have served with the Republics military already so you know a little about us: were independent, and autonomous, and we choose where we fight, when, and how. When the Clans arrive, we will be fighting them. Theyre the Snow Ravens. Weve got history of the worst kind. Theyll show us no mercy and well show them none in return. No prisoners will be taken under Clan termsand Amaris agreed to this as well. The Clans call their prisoners Bondsmen, but theyre slaves. We arent Clan and were not going to humor them. Were going to kill them.
And this, He raised the BattleArmors right arm, and slammed it bodily into the armor-plated chest. Is just one of the tools we have to do just that. This is Wolverine BattleArmor, the standard variant but weve got others and youll be familiarizing yourselves with all of them. Some of you may have experience with PowerArmor, most of you probably dont. Whether you do or not, you newbies will be learning to pilot one of these from scratch because the Wolverine is like nothing youve experienced before.
You! The speaker roared suddenly, pointing the Wolverines left arm at a young man in the front row. Youre in battle armor, with your squad. How do you silently tell them to advance on an enemy position?
The newcomer turned pale, Uhhand signals? Sir?
Wrong! The man roared loudly enough that his own voice echoed for half a second. For three reasons!
One! The Wolverine crouched, and launched itself in the air with the power of its legs alone. It barely made half a meter, and when it landed it crushed the wooden podium itd been standing behind. The Wolverine isnt fucking silent! You want silent, join the Royal Guard. You want really silent, you join the Blackguards or the Black Watch. You want stuff dead, you want a Wolverine.
Two! As anyone whos been paying attention shouldve seen by now, The Wolverines arms snapped upwards, its clawed thumb first moving up and down, then side to side. The other fingers didnt budge, they were permanently affixed to the Wolverines arm. The Wolverine doesnt do fucking hand signals.
Three! Youve got brains and radios. Use both, or youre not going to last long. This is the only moment of rest youll get from now until the Clans get here. Some of youpossibly all of youare going to die. Yes, were fighting to protect millions because if the Clans win they will bomb every Republic world to a cinder. But were also fighting to protect ourselves, and I would rather die fighting in a Wolverine than eke out an extra six months by cowering in a fallout bunker waiting to get nuked.
The Wolverine clapped its clawed hands together. Now, I hope youre all learn quickly because in three weeks were going to be taking you all up into space to see if you can handle the space-ops version of this monster. If any of you are prone to motion sickness youd better tell me ASAP because the only thing worse than doing S&R for a drifting space trooper is having to hose the vomit out of the armor afterwards. Theres no stigma if you cant cut it, some people just cant handle fighting in null-g and its better to learn that now. Ideally I want every single one of you checked out for space operations, because our training program is going to be very specialized: by the time your trainings finished youll be able to assault a McKenna BattleShip in your sleep.
********************
Their instructors Cicada didnt quite pace, instead walking forward and reversing with such a smooth motion that it wouldve been difficult for a person whod never seen a Cicada before to tell which end was the front. It didnt help that the machines upper torso had twisted as far as the servos would allow, to enable the pilot to stare at the line of six waiting `Mechs assembled before it. It continued its motion in silence for a few minutes, as though waiting to see if anyone was foolish enough to speak or break ranks unprompted. All six machines stood smartly at attention.
Apparently satisfied, it stopped mid-backpedal and twisted on its ankles in a motion that Cadet Silas wouldve thought impossible only months before. The Cicadas torso twisted back and forth one last time, as if checking to see if anyone had relaxed, and then the pilot spoke.
Welcome to your Trial by Fire, Cadets, It was a voice Silas didnt think hed ever heard before; but the electronic distortion used to remove any trace of gender made that impossible to tell. Their instructor had never piloted a Cicada before, and todays training exercise seemed like it was supposed to be something out of the ordinary.
I am The Watcher, their observer continued in clipped, formalized speech. I am Judge and Jury. It is I who decide whether or not you are worthy to join the 331st. There is no shame if you fail. Failure is a learning experience and can be overcome with hard work. You may be allowed to try again. We have watched you, these past six months. We know you can pilot a BattleMech. Your instructor says you are ready to advance to the next stage of training. We have our doubts. We dont know if you can truly fight.
The inhibitors on your `Mechs have been released, Silas swallowed at the implications. At The Watchers words, a secondary monitor that had displayed nothing for so long Silas had grown convinced was malfunctioning sprang to life as his `Mechs battle computer began processing data from five unknown sources. Hovering crosshairs appeared in his peripheral vision, on lines drawn straight into the earth that let Silas see precisely what each of his lancemates was targeting.
Your machines have live ammunition. Todays exercise is be live fire. You will be fighting live opponents. If a `Mech signals surrender it is no longer a valid target. You may chose to surrender at any time, either individually or as a group. You are six in number, your opponents are eight. You are piloting Mk. VIII machines: the most advanced the New Rim World Republic has to offer. Your opponents will have nothing above a Mk. VI. You can survive a single direct hit to the canopy from every weapon in their arsenal save one, in use by the enemy commander. Respect your enemys capabilities and do not get shot in the head. The same cannot be said in return, so do not shoot your opponents in the head on pain of inquest and possible Expulsion. Questions?
Silas thumbed his transmitter, but the red light that showed he wasnt broadcasting didnt even flicker.
The Cicada twisted again. Good. You will be allowed to choose your objective for this mission. Complete this objective and prove to us that you know how to fight.
Trial by Fire Mission Objective Vote:
A) Defeat All Enemy `Mechs
B) Destroy Supply Depot
C) Recover POWs
D) Capture Enemy Commander
E) Smash & Grab Raid
The McKenna Simulation
(This is the mission that may not work, if it doesnt well just scrap it right away)
Trial by Fire
Unit Lists
Mechwarriors
Z the IVth
Great Beer
JT Jag
Paingod556
Saint Celestine
Cloud Potato
Alternates
OptimusShr
Voyager I
Quornes
Tank Boy Ken
apostateCourier
Lord Koth