Part 301: Combat Theater Vote 11 Results

Combat Theater Vote 12 Results

Surprising none, Hogarth’s Heroes may be a huge hit at the box office! Or it may bomb so terribly that showing it to people is a violation of the Ares Convention!
The Taurian Concordat’s grand experiment Operation: Flint may meet with resounding success in the coming months!
The Goliath Scorpions postpone their Death Race on Tukayyid to wait for “more favorable weather conditions.” Also: because it makes the Widowmakers angry.
Major Carlos Marik, son of Captain-General Duncan Marik, has gone missing behind enemy lines. His commanders remain hopeful that The Eagle Soars still.
The Capellan Confederation and the Duchy of New Syrtis have gotten bogged down in an extended Guerilla War.



Not Long Ago…

“Sit down, Uther,” Pedregor Aliz’s voice was smooth and calm. Uther just stared, an angry scowl frozen on his face. If he was impressed by the claims of ‘Anastasius Focht,’ it hardly showed. Uther’s face reddened, and then purpled, and then he grew calm.

Pedregor only smiled. “This man is who he says he is.”

“Even if he is Precentor Martial, he has no business here.” Villius Tejh practically hissed in displeasure.

“The Primus has passed,” Charles Seneca replied. “Two members of the First Circuit are missing. The vote requires five. As the two highest-ranking ComStar Precentors on the planet, that gives us every right to participate in this vote.”

“What of Precentor Pro-Tem Mori?” Tejh persisted, his brow furrowing as his chances of becoming Primus dwindled. The deal he’d struck with Aliz, to keep that furious buffoon Uther from the Primacy was unraveling before his eyes. Demi-Precentor Mori had been his ace in the hole. She too feared a ComStar hostile to her fading realm.

“Arrested,” Seneca replied with an enigmatic smile. “Leave it to Waterley to allow an O5P Adept to rise so highly in our ranks.”

“I don’t believe this!” Tejh threw up his hands. “She was thoroughly vetted! This—”

“She doesn’t matter,” Focht replied.

“We need a new Primus,” Seneca agreed. He raised a white envelope, one bearing the holographic Verigraph of the deceased. “Fortunately, Primus Tiepolo’s will is clear.”

“This is outrageous!” Villius Tejh finished. His eyes flashed with fury as he snatched for the letter in Seneca’s hand. Charles jumped back as Tejh tried to snatch it away, his left hand extended to hold the incensed Precentor at bay.

“Tiepolo was right,” Anastasius Focht began with a cruel laugh. “You are the only member of the first circuit with a spine!”

Tejh’s body jerked involuntarily as a stabbing pain lanced through the back of his neck, a scant centimeter above his collar bone. It took his brain a moment to notice that the crackling-pop he heard was a laser pistol on a low power setting. Tejh’s knees gave way and he tried to raise his hands to cushion his fall. His arms, like today’s events, refused to obey his will.

His forehead bounced from the marble floor, and Precentor Sian simply lay there as though in a daze. The sharp heel-toe procession of military boots assaulted Villius Tejh’s senses. He fought to stand and confront his attacker but his body refused to respond.

“Primus Tejh, unlike your predecessor,” Anastasius Focht’s voice was cruel and without mirth. “I do not appreciate your backbone. Gentlemen! This has been a tragic day for ComStar! Our old Primus is dead, and an Assassin very close to our hearts has gravely wounded his successor. We will, of course, be demanding concessions from the Draconis Suns. I doubt very much Hanse Davion wishes to risk interdiction in the face of the Clans; but the traitorous Sharilar Mori is now his agent. Soon, the whole of the Draconis Suns will be dancing on our strings, precisely as Primus Tiepolo intended.”

There was a shuffle of cloth as someone moved, Tejh’s ears straining to hear everything said. His eyes rolled back and forth, straining for a view his unresponsive neck muscles would no longer provide. “You, Doctor. You are from the Draconis Combine, correct? You are now Precentor Dieron. Please do your best to make sure Primus Tejh survives his injuries. It would shame us greatly if ComStar were to lose a second Primus today.”



* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *



The numerous engines of the “C-1300” transport aircraft hummed with a soothing sound as they spun massive propellers the size of a BattleMech. A military man would’ve been forgiven for noticing the inside of the improbably large transport aircraft looked like the cramped `Mechbay of a Leopard-class Dropship, and that no shots showed the mythical C-1300’s tail. Which was, in fact, the tail end of a Leopard-Class Dropship.

“Alright you lugs, saddle-up!” Thomas Hogarth shouted heroically over the rhythmic thrum of those massive turbines. He struck a heroic pose and the holocams panned away so he could use a lurking cherry-picker to ascend to his `Mech rather than ascending the whole way by hand. Cherry pickers were commonly used equipment, but they weren’t cinematic. Hogarth settled into position, climbing the last meter or so under the careful eye of the holocams, and settled into the massive bulk of his skull-faced Atlas II.

“This is it, the mission we’ve been training for!” He shouted just quietly enough to make sure the microphone hidden in his collar didn’t squeal. “The forces of Skye are holding Duchess Melissa Steiner in the Winter Palace on Summer! She and her husband are being guarded by Red Corsair mercenary forces. We’re the only unit in range to rescue them, and failure isn’t an option! All `Mechwarriors, check in!”

“Major Andrew Steiner here,” the cockpit of Andrew’s awesome flashed unrealistically as the high-watt strobes filled the cockpit with light. It was an old trick, used to show the `Mechwarrior was talking. It was also extremely disconcerting for the pilot, but the neurohelmet should keep Andrew from being blinded or dazzled. “I hope this doesn’t take too long,” he continued without missing a beat, “my home planet needs me!”

“This is,” the third pilot paused momentarily, a trace of disgruntlement creeping into her deep voice. Hogarth made a mental note to add some extra feedback in post, to disguise that. Her Banshee turned slightly to better face his Atlas. “Vasquez. I’m hot and ready to drop, let’s kick Richard Cameron’s ghostly ass back to Terra!”

“Colonel Schultz here,” The Zeus’s cockpit flashed as well, and the three massive heat sinks on its shoulders opened distinctively. “I knew my brothers and sisters in Skye were no traitors!”

“That remains to be seen,” Hogarth replied, “but we’re hopeful. Richard Cameron’s machinations have proven insidious, we never would’ve learned about him if it weren’t for those Heimdall mystics Loki rescued! Our job is to get in, rescue Melissa, and take out Richard Cameron! There’s no way to tell what we’ll encounter on the ground, but I’d estimate no less than two lances: some fast scouts, and another lance holding the Duchess and her husband prisoner.”

Hogarth paused dramatically, his determination evident in his eyes and the heroic set of his jaw. “This is it, heroes! You don’t need any speeches from me, you know what to do. Prepare for drop!”







Hogarth’s Heroes
1) AS7-D-HGB Atlas II – “General” Thomas Hogarth (Malachite_Dragon)
2) AWS-XGB Awesome – Major Andrew Steiner (Helter Skelter)
3) BNC-3S Banshee – Sergeant Marshall “Vasquez” Hobbes (GhostStalker)
4) ZEU-XGB Zeus – Colonel Wilhelm Schultz (Holybat)

Reserve Pilots
Carbolic, Red_October_7000, Tiny, Ferrosol

1st Red Corsairs
Skye Prison Guard Lance
1) BLR-1G Battlemaster – “The Red Corsair”
2) BL-7-KNT-GB Black Knight – “Richard Cameron”
3) DRG-1G Grand Dragon – “Jake Finn”
4) KTO-18 Kintaro – “Peter Watson”

Fast Scout Lance
5) PNT-9R Panther 1 – “Ukabi Smith”
6) JVN-10N Javelin – “Rex Shepard III esq”
7) WFT-1 Wolf Trap – “Pepper Stark”
8) PNT-9R Panther 2 – “Anthony Hawke”



Primary Objectives
Rescue Melissa Steiner and Clovis Holstein (0/2)
Defeat Richard Cameron (0/1)
[Unknown]
[Unknown]

Secondary Objectives
One of Hogarth’s Heroes“dies” dramatically, but no more than one (0/1)
Hogarth kills the ghost with his Ghost-Killer PPC (0/1)
Cross the Streams (0/4)