Disclaimer: You know the drill..Property of Wizkids,microsoft/blahblah whoever owns Battletech and Mechwarrior.
Warnings: None. Mild language, maybe harsher later on.
Authors Notes: Well...Finally got out my first battletech chapter...Sorta drags abit, but I thought it a okay beginning chapter.. The next will take place on the Jumpship, and explain a little about the Unit's history,etc. I will say a couple MAJOR warnings.
#1. I am not hugely in-sync with the Battletech Universe, that is exact planets, and the Civil war battle lines, unit stations,etc/ So for this chapter, I am remaining the planet anonymous ;) It's within 4 jumps of the Marik Border...pick one of your choosing.
#2. This is NOT a crossover...I needed characters (And only characters). Although a number are taken from the Stargate universe, they are not crossovers, but Battletech characters now. Of course the good VS evil is still there...Sheppard, O'neil, Teyla, Ronan,etc good guys VS Kinsey, and his various minions renamed that are nicknamed ancient gods (Ba'al, Ra, Apophis,etc.)..
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Marik Planet: LocationXXXX.
"Mister Prien?" The man in front of him questioned.
Raising his head, Grant looked the man over. Not that he hadn't already seen him make his way across the bar...He was just waiting until now to acknowlage it. Somewhat tall, thin, but mostly muscle. Early thirties and somewhat roguish in appearance, he still had the bearing of a military man, of a commander.
"Yes. And you are Sheppard?"
"That's right," the man stuck out his hand, "John Sheppard, hopefully over your service." He said it as a joke, but it somewhat fell flat considering the circumstances.
Grant Prien took his hand and shook it, "Please, sit down Mister Sheppard. I have been going over the files you sent to me regarding your...situation." Grant gave a quick glance back at his laptop computer in front of him before returning attention to his possible employer, "And I have a few questions."
"Feel free to ask," Sheppard waved at a passing server, "Beer if you please, miss."
"Put it on my tab, Cathy, okay?" Grant spoke up at her. The waitress winked at him and moved off to fill the order, "And my usual." He called after her.
Sheppard turned towards him and seated himself more comfortably, "That's not neccesary..." he began.
Grant waved it off, "It is nothing, and you may be hard-pressed enough to pay me as it is."
John grimaced, "Yeeaaahhh about that..."
"Let me get to my questions first, " Grant gave a final glance at the computer before closing it and setting it aside, "Let me get this straight. You got 3 companies of mechs, and 65 armor vehicles, correct? Plus air assests and mudders?" he finished using his unit's term for infantrymen.
"Yeah. The moment I touched down here, I got a message dad sent. Lost 6 mech's and a dozen tanks up to a week ago. By the time we leave, another 3 or 4 mechs, and by the time we arrive back, probably another half dozen, plus armor lost."
Grant paused as the waitress returned, "Here's your soda," she set an orange pop in front of Grant, "And here's your beer." she set the bottle in front of Sheppard.
"Thanks miss," John picked up the beer and gave her a roguish smile, "Hey, I might want another one in a bit." He winked at her and she had a series of giggles before moving off, and spent the next two minutes stumbling over chairs and tables, glancing back at him.
Taking a sip of his soda Grant chuckled, "How the hell did you manage that? She's been hit on by every guy here, and you manage to crack her up with, "I'll want another one later."
"It's a talent," John took a swig of his beer and gave a bemused look at the mercenary in front of him.
Grant continued, "Okay. So..Count you as having two companies of mechs, assorted lights and mediums, with a odd heavy and assault, plus about a third in various stages of repair, armor in about equivalent shape. Correct?"
John Sheppard grimaced and nodded, "Yeah. Right now the fighting is pretty slow and far between. Neither side has a big enough advantage to push hard, but enough to let stuff be. I am guessing that by the time we can get back there, Kinsey will have a merc company there, and possibly a Lyran unit. It isn't a big or important planet, but a Lyran victory would bring some good morale boosts to their side, and on a weak planet like ours they have a good chance of succeeding."
"And you're pro-Davion then?" Grant asked.
The man opposite him shrugged, "Not so much as pro-Davion, as anti-Steiner." He stopped and didn't continue.
"That's settled...Now..as to..payment."
"Although I am sure not enough for you to be hired on, I brought a down payment of half a million C-Bills."
"And for after my services are concluded?" Grant asked.
"Here is the interesting deal... Here's the offer...We cannot garuntee full payment...If we lose, or the war is a draw, we will be drained, my family that is. The Sheppard family owns the poorer half of the planet, for owning that, we only have a third of the mines, and just barely half of the timber, agriculture, and industrial sections."
Grant mused over this, "I have done some looking...purely research of course...Your family is endebted to the worst loan shark in the Marik league...You know that right?"
John nodded, "Yes. but he is the only one who would loan us the amount needed. We are financially drained. We NEED to take the Kinsey's mines, and industrial sections to repay the loaners...If we don't," he shrugged, "Basically we turn our half of the planet over to debtors."
"One final thing," Grant said as he drained his soda, "You mentioned something in youre report I found especially interesting...The Sheppards own a jumpship?"
John nodded enthusiastically, "Yeah. That is one of the reasons we got a good loan. It is a...eh...pure fluke that we still own a operational one. BUT..It has worked out good. Until the Kinsey's back-stabbed us, they used our jumpship to fly THIER refined metals off-planet, and import weaponry...It allowed us to keep track of them a little. And now, they have to hire another jumpship service."
"And it gives my unit a free-ride to your planet, 2 hops to the Marik Border, and another 4 Jumps into Lyran space if I remember right."
"That too," John glanced around the bar almost uncertainly and then spoke, "What we offer is full salvage for anything you knock down, and you got the right to strip Kinsey bases of everything on them that doesn't relate to intellegance needed by us, such as prisoners and computers. No looting of civilians, or mainstay industrial works, those we still need. But we figure between our offer, the promised payment if we win, and your salvage rights, should be enough. And when this is all over, our jumpship will take you 10 hops away to rendevoue with another one."
Grant leaned back in his chair thoughtfully. He didn't like the deal. There was little promised payment if things went wrong, he could assume the Sheppard mechs and pilots were average backwater planet jocks piloting worn out flea-chasers, and he was trying to keep his own debtors off his back.
Then again...His debtors were hardcore Davionists and had "Suggested" he take only contracts regarding to their cause, lest his debts be called in all at once. This would help keep them happy...And he had a few other things up his sleeve.
"You've got yourself the Rasalhague Raiders Mister Sheppard. My unit can be ready to be off-planet in 72 hours, if you can," Grant held his hand out to the man in front of him.
John took it almost thankfully, "That is good Mister Prien. As much as I don't want to admit this, we need help. And no other mercenary units were wanting to touch this with a two thousand ton battlemech."
"I will speak to you in the morning, You're at the Imperion I assume?" Grant asked, reffering to the spaceport's hotel.
"Yeah. Room 302." Sheppard looked like he was about to ask something, but Grant turned away and placed his laptop on the table again, signalling that he was done.
As the man walked away from the table and out the door, a woman stood from a nieghboring table and seated herself across from Grant.
"Is it a deal?" She asked.
Grant nodded, "Yeah. We're lifting off in 72 hours. Get the techies loading our equipment doubletime, drag the mechjockies out of whatever whorehouses they fell into, and check the local lockup, I'm sure David and Danielle got themselves into trouble this weekend."
He stood from the table and collected his laptop. Not bothering to count exactly, he dropped a small wad of C-bills onto the table, covering his tab, plus a healthy tip. Walking to the door he was joined by the woman.
"I will speed up the loading of the dropships, and start checking the local gutters for the mechwarriors. You will be returning to the Rasalhague, aff?" Reffering to the Overlord class dropship that served as the unit's headquarters.
"Yeah," he replied. At that moment they passed out the front doors of the bar, and into the street. Although a relatively upper-class neighborhood, the usual crowd of toughs was assembled outside the door, long raincoats concealing the usual array of weaponry they carried.
A glance at the pair however, made them turn their heads and pretend to not notice them. Two six foot mechwarriors, both openly wearing sidearms were too tough of a target, at least for tonight.
As they walked off, Grant continued, "Don't take too long, it's still early and the true scum haven't come out yet. You could take them, but I don't want the public attention right now."
Nodding, the woman split away from him, turning into the direction of the red-light district to look over the cat-houses and pull out the required mechwarriors.
As Grant continued towards his dropship, he glanced back in her direction and saw three street-toughs assembling in the shadows and slinking along behind her, their eventual intent obvious. He chuckled as he watched the seemingly oblivious, attractive, Clanswoman march ahead of them. Six feet tall, 180 pounds, all muscle, not one but two handguns, a short katana, concealed beneath her jacket, and strapped to her back...He almost felt sorry for the stupid bastards...almost.