There is no such thing as total peace. Mankind, so long as the way we run it, will never come together and become one big happy family. We are too spread out, too different. But I guess I just made my argument, "we are too different," It is ideas such as those that keep us 'different' and prevent us from getting along. We don't get along because many of us say that other people should conform to our ways and those other people of course won't. That is what leads to the fighting and the war. War is a part of the human mind; without it, there is no human race. So long as we exist, there will always be war.

Outreach,

Chaos March

An old man was sitting in his lavish office. He was bald on the top of his head but had hair around the back and sides of his head. He wore a blue business suit and had small round spectacles sitting very close to his eyes. He had a gentle appearance, yet there was a look of stress and a slight trace of sadness played across his face.

The view outside his office window was beautiful, especially for times like these. There was a cool breeze rustling the tops of the trees, who's leaves were starting to turn gold as the season changed from summer to fall. The sky was cloudless and blue. The local traffic had quieted, and people were bustling quietly on the sidewalks.

However the man was not interested in the weather, he was staring intently at a drawing of a mech he had just sketched. It of course, was bristling with weapons, and had an overly chunky chassis. It was another one of his fanatical drawings that he would draw to relive pressure and to amuse himself.

He crumpled the paper up and threw it a little hardly at a wastebasket stuffed to the brim with other failed creations. Nothing was reliving the stress he was feeling today. He couldn't have asked for better conditions to brighten his mood, yet nothing seemed to work.

Defeated, he sighed and leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling.

A couple minutes later he was about to doze off into a restful sleep when an angry young woman burst through the door. She was a pretty, brown haired girl with green eyes; her hair flowed around her head and stopped short at her shoulders. She was gorgeous, and indeed a sight to behold, yet the Isaac Kepler did not dare to rest his eyes on his daughter, afraid her stare would reduce him to ashes. The moment she burst through the door the faint creases on his face immediately became much more apparent, and his whole face sagged into a pitiful grimace as she yelled at him.

"How could you do this?" she said incredulously, Isaac remained silent. "Don't think that I wouldn't find out! I told you not to do this!"

"Rachel…I," the old man tried to spit out a defense to the brutal assault of words.

"Oh don't even!" she shouted, "I realize you're doing this for me, but I don't want you making weapons of war, then selling them to the highest bidder! That's not what a man like you should do! You are a genius of this age, you are capable of changing this universe forever, but you are setting it in the wrong direction. You can't keep making these weapons; they will only lead to more destruction and bloodshed!" She was fuming.

Mother is dead because of advanced weapons, surely you can remember that, or are you too old to remember anything?" She said coldly.

Isaac slowly turned his head towards his furious daughter. A look of pure pain and sorrow had overcome his face.

"I remember," he said quietly. "I saw it happen after all."

Rachel's eyes flared, "Then surely you above anyone else should know how painful it is to have lost your loved one to war. What you're doing…" she paused, "You're only fueling the fire, you're only making it easier to spread war and death across the worlds. I can't stand it!

"Your mother was a fighter," he said "she too dealt death among many people. It was her job." He said sadly.

"I never said I was proud of her," Rachel replied. And started towards the door. "Oh!" she stopped short. "I also wanted to ask you something."

The weary old man looked up at her stunned from those last words.

"Why is it that you've approved and hired Matt and Trent?" There was another fire behind her emerald green eyes.

"They seem apt enough to start on their own assignment," he said, quickly looking down again and starting another mech sketch, "they are good men and I have great faith in their skills."

"Good then, you will be satisfied to know that I have joined them." She said icily.

Isaac jumped up at these words, "What? Rachel! Wait!" but she was gone. Disheveled and defeated he slumped back into his chair and continued sketching.

Dropship Independent,

Mech Hold,

High orbit over Outreach,

Chaos March

A man in a white T-shirt and olive drab pants came bounding into the mech hold. He had brown hair and dark green eyes, he was tall and in his late 20's. He was waving three pieces of paper around as if they were batons. He was ecstatic; his face was shining with such radiance and optimism it made the people he passed by make their own smile.

Reaching the other side of the mech bay he stopped in front of a battered Templar. "Trent! Trent!" he yelled.

A blond haired man poked his head out of the Mechs cockpit hatch. He seemed pretty moody in contrast to the other man, he was grumbling as he looked to see who called him. "Yea? What is it Matt?" he grudged.

"You won't believe this! We got an assignment! Christ we got a 'friggin assignment!" Matt was still waving the papers around like he was about to perform some martial arts with them.

The sulky expression immediately disappeared from Trent's face and was replaced by a look of surprise and curiosity. "What? Lemme see that!"

Matt bounced up to him easily in the micro gravity. Trent grabbed the papers eagerly with oily hands. His eyes grew as the moved down the front page. After reading it through he finally said "This is for me, not for you…did you get your separate?"

"Um yea." Matt replied quickly, "Don't worry bud, were on the same contract, and in the same lance."

Trent glanced at the second page. A devilish smile spread across his face, "A license to kill…" he said. "Finally we're getting the respect we deserve."

"I know," said Matt he was beaming, "but what's better, guess who our employer is?"

Trent read through the second half of the paper and the smile vanished from his face. " Kepler Innovative Corp.? Your dad hired us?"

Matt was still smiling, "Yup, so that means that we automatically have a good reputation with his entire company and his affiliates…You know he's allied with the Wolf Dragoons and the Highlanders right?"

Trent was silent for a moment, "Yes I know that, it's your father hiring us that bothers me."

"Huh?" Matt was puzzled, "Oh! This is about Rachel! Don't worry she'll be fine with my dad from now on. Here, read that third paper."

Trent flipped to the final sheet. His eyes grew again as he scanned the black print. "She's been approved for an assignment!" he said quietly.

"Yup," Matt was beaming again, "I'm kinda proud of her, pulling all that pacifist shit then finally deciding to become a merc with us. Uh, she's on a different contract but she's a replacement pilot for our second lance."

Trent wasn't listening he was deep in thought. He's trying to get me away from her as usual, but then she refuses to leave my side and in doing so risks her life. I really don't believe that she's given up her ideals…definitely not. What I don't get is why he's sending Matt, his only son off. Maybe he actually trusts him with me? Or maybe he's trying to get him famous…crap it all doesn't make sense. I need to talk to Rachel.

Matt knocked Trent out of his thought with a pat on the back. "So what are you working on up here?" he asked.

Grateful for a change in conversation, Trent turned back to the Templar and frowned. "Oh that? I'm fixing some the circuitry in the targeting system." He said sullenly, "and not a damn tech in sight, it's not even my mech! Yet I still have to fix it."

Matt laughed, "Duty calls my friend, duty calls." And with that he jumped off the mech and 'flew' away.

Trent laughed softly himself, then put on his grimace again and disappeared into the cockpit.

Kepler Innovative Corporation,

Experimental Weapons Facility #3,

Outreach,

Chaos March

Three Military dressed men approached a man sitting in his office, filling out a report. He was in his mid 40's and had jet-black hair. He had a very satisfied expression on his face and appeared very friendly, unlike the three officers that had stepped into his office.

"Welcome!" he said with a hearty voice and smile, "Welcome to Kepler Innovative, we have been expecting you, I trust your journey here was a safe one?" He offered his hand out to shake.

One of the men cleared his throat and spoke but did not accept the handshake, "Indeed, we've come to inspect the weapons we are interested in before we place a bid. You are Mr. Yuri correct?"

Mr. Yuri smiled and said, "Yes, I am Chief Engineer of this project, pleased to meet you. We will begin our demonstration shortly, please wait in that room over there until the remaining groups to arrive."

The officers exchanged disappointed looks; the leader spoke again, "Ahem, I am Captain Tirone of the Kell Hounds. What did you mean by other groups?"

"Oh! You mustn't worry about them, they are minor mercenary factions and companies, I doubt most of them will place for the starting bid. We have failed in getting the attention of the major houses, so their like is the only kind that will show." Yuri explained.

A small wave of relief came over the Kell Hound officers. "Are there any other major factions that we may need worry about?" The captain asked.

Yuri thought for a moment, "Well we do have two affiliates, the Wolf Dragoons, and the Northwind Highlanders. If you do not wish to bid then you may pledge support instead."

The three officers smiled, thanked him, now with a friendly handshake, and walked into the waiting room.

There were many groups of people in the small lobby, all talking amongst themselves and each group giving each other suspicious looks. There were many formally dressed businessmen, obviously representing some small company. There were groups of young mercs hunched over, sitting backwards in their chairs, each looking thuggish and menacing.

Nothing we should worry about, the Captain thought. The man on his right side leaned over towards his ear, "Merely a bunch of low class Companies and mediocre pilots, they are no threat to us."

"My thoughts exactly major" the captain said, "however if these men lay witness to any of our purchases I do not think we should allow them to leave this place alive. We can't have them rambling on about it; it isn't very smart these days. I'd be worried if the Dragoons or any major legion showed up. Then we would have a problem."

The major nodded solemnly; "Still, I do not believe that these men deserve death for seeking opportunity." He said, "I am aware that we have plans with this new technology, but perhaps if we forced them to be quiet instead, we could avoid suspicion that way."

The Captain's eyes narrowed, "I agree with you Orillion, however we have our orders, and our duties. Our employers wouldn't be too pleased at all if anything went wrong now would they?"

The major shook his head sullenly.

The captain smiled, "Therefore we must take every single precaution there is to make sure that nothing can go wrong, whether it means murder or not."

Then the three officers strode to an empty corner of the lobby and awaited the beginning of the tour.

Mr. Yuri frowned as he turned of the holo-vid of their conversation. He sighed and said, "Ms. Rachel will not be pleased." Returned to filling out his report.

Three hours later every company arrived, and Mr. Yuri walked into the lobby. "Welcome all of you," he said, "I am Chief Engineer Hoshiro Yuri. I apologize for the wait but now that everyone is here we may get underway." He paused before continuing, "First however I want to go over some rules."

The members of his audience exchanged perturbed and impatient looks. The last thing they wanted now was a sermon on why they should keep inside the boundaries or why they should stick together. They weren't here on a school field trip.

"First thing I want to make clear is that nothing you see or hear is to travel beyond these walls or beyond your companies." He said firmly. "Second thing is if you are not able to make the lowest bid on the lowest item, you are to leave immediately."

People exchanged nervous looks, one member of some shady looking mercs piped up, "And what's the lowest price?" he said.

Mr. Yuri smiled, "The starting bid for the designs of the cheapest light class mech is at 30,000,000 C-Bills."

Six entire groups stood up and left without word or question. A few however, like the shady merc, wouldn't go quietly.

"That's INSANE!" he bellowed, "For a light mech? What the hell kind of scheme are you running here?" A few other groups have stood up in agreement.

Mr. Yuri glanced at Captain Tirone, who was making a few notes on a data pad. His eyes met his own. "You shall not harm these people. They haven't seen anything." His eyes seemed to say. The captain smiled and his eyes glimmered in reply, "That is not for me to decide Mr. Yuri, perhaps they will be spared, perhaps they will not."

Mr. Yuri's face sagged slightly before continuing, "Gentlemen, gentlemen, I remind you that this is the newest and most advanced line of technology, there is no scheme. Please leave the room if you cannot compete for the bid."

Reluctantly, the groups left, muttering profane words and phrases as they exited. Major Orillion was surprised at how much it had narrowed down the numbers of competitors. He was pleased.

"Very well then," Mr. Yuri said. "If you will all please follow me we will begin the tour."

Grr, kind of messy isn't it? I've never been very good at these multi thread stories but I thought id try one out. I can only get better if I actually try and practice right? Anyway this is the first chapter of my new story. It is very, very messy. I will try and give the specs on this new tech in later episodes but I doubt it will sound physically possible to all you BT junkies out there. Just tell me if I'm heading in the wrong direction and I'll try to fix it. All of my writing abilities draw more towards the drama (which I'm not to good at either), and if I want to create a good Mech Warrior story then I want to include a bit of the BT that puts it soundly into the category. Keep the reviews coming (or in my case) tips and advice. ^-^

Thanks a bunch,

Shank

Lead…tastes great, less filling.