(Continued from previous chapter)
Natalia pinched the bridge of her nose.
"Let's be clear. That entire operation was amateurish. You had no goals going in. No outright aim. You entered what is essentially a new planet, and after a mishap with some locals, instead of speaking with them to seek fair justice, you started killing the indigenous peoples en masse."
"People? Those things weren't people, Major. They were dangerous, wild animals!"
"Creatures that could speak. That could communicate. Creatures that showed at least a basic level of community and organization, ones who defended their own and could explain how their environment works. You should have tried to communicate with them for a better resolution. I understand that those fairies attacked first, resulting in two of your own members dead, but to start a colonization process raises a lot of red flags to me."
"Colonization process? Major, they were a simple expedition team sent in for research!"
"That might have been the original goal, but they immediately changed to the goal of harvesting its resources. Your leader even mentioned staying there for an extended time. I want to be clear that I am not happy with what I saw."
Dr. Burnam's eyes narrowed. Her jaw set. A vein appeared on her head as if she were barely holding back her explosive rage.
"What...is this… from a band of mercenaries? Guns for hire! And don't make assumptions about my organization. What happened with Theresa Cullen doesn't reflect our goals. Besides the point, you don't need to concern yourself with such things. The only concern we should have is getting back that data so we can replicate magic within our dimension. We have no reason for wanting any of our members to stay there!"
Foster spoke up the back.
"The reason you want to gather magic is so you can get superpowers, right?"
Both women turned and stared at him. Foster leaned back as if dodging a blow.
"What? When Cullen touched those magic boxes, her hands started glowing, and she started yelling about power. She's either radioactive now or has gained comic-book style abilities. Hell, probably both."
Natalia sighed and turned back to the pale doctor.
"Let me be clear with you Dr. Burnam. Even during the harshest of conflicts, we Wolf Dragoons do not attack civilians. We do not take part in the colonization of indigenous planets. And we do not under any circumstances condone slavery. What your team did there was amateurish and completely goes against everything the Wolf Dragoons stand for."
Burnam's jaw fell open. Eyes scowling, face twitching as she struggled to solve some perplexing equation.
"Mercenaries... meatheaded thugs… I..."
She scoffed.
"I understand Major. To reiterate, however, your mission is simple. Go in. Retrieve whatever data you can recover from the wreckage. Get out. It should be a quick and easy operation. And if you do not accept my offer … That's fine…. I will simply find another faction up to the task."
Natalia resisted the urge to cave Burnam's face in, then started thinking about what the other factions would do with the money, or with the promise of magically bolstered technology. As strange as it seemed, they needed to be the first ones to discover magic.
The Major stared straight into the eyes of Dr. Burnam. With a voice as hard as iron she said.
"Pay us half now. The other half when the mission is done."
XXXX Tools For The Job
Outside the Icarus, on the surface of planet Vakhen, the sun rose from behind a view of pristine waters. The golden rays touched upon the sky, spread themselves across the ocean waves, chasing away the black-blue of night. The waves themselves never softened. They crashed into the rocky shore in which the Icarus dropship stood. Every wave sent white foam and clear droplets into the air. Intense winds carried those droplets further inland until they splattered onto the Icarus' glass windows.
But those aboard the Icarus ignored the sound of wind and water outside, for inside those reinforced walls were the growls of industrial engines, the airy hiss of welding flames, and the shrill sounds of metal sliding into place. The hangar aboard the Icarus dropship was an environment of grey-black walls. Metal catwalks lined up across the sides and ceiling, where technicians scurried from one task to the next. At the floor were the normal-sized trucks and vehicles that transported people and hardware across the base. The whole dropship was a bustle of activity. A hive in which every soldier and scientist worked tirelessly to transport and install mechanical parts, or activate computers within essential equipment.
And on one docking bay of the hangar, a red Timber Wolf rumbled to life.
The Mechwarrior pushed a button. Grabbed a lever. The Timber Wolf walked forward, moving its massive bulk in precise steps. Its torso pivoted on its waist before the legs turned to walk where it was facing. The trucks and personnel still working in the hangar steered clear of the mech and continued their jobs. Those less experienced with military deployment took a second to admire the mech's intimidating size and shape.
The Timber Wolf heavy-class mech (which was a short range variant of the Mad Cat) remains one of the most expensive pieces of military hardware known across both the Clan worlds and the Inner Sphere. It was, and still is, one of the most versatile and effective mechs that very few had the grace of piloting in combat. The mad cat was an Omnimech. It can be anything. Like legos with weapons, the mad cat was adaptable. Variable. Although normally specialized for quick, short engagements, it could still be given the tools to handle any situation. With its pointed cockpit and three-toed talon feet, those who witnessed the mech likened it to a raptor or some kind of hulking bird of prey. An apex predator of war.
Another pull. Another press of buttons, and the Timber Wolf stepped into the teleportation box. Metal claws extended from the interior of the box to clamp down on its raptor legs and club-like arms. More metal looped around the torso like a harness. Within a few seconds, the multi-story death machine was secured. Immobilized. Caged in a box.
The Mechwarrior leaned back. He glanced out of the cockpit and down to the engineers checking every nook and cranny of the machine. A routine to make sure every bit of it functioned properly before his jump. And he also noted with slight caution that most of those engineers belonged to the scientist faction from earlier.
He peered forward. There at the end of a track of rails was the portal. A massive, circular structure that even towered over the heavy mech itself. A circle lay before him, the center of which shimmered with white, bluish energy. It was strange to see. The hangar bay doors were closed, and so the strange, abstract shapes within the portal made it seem so much more surreal.
A beeping came on to his left. The Mechwarrior pressed a button, and it stopped as a screen opened up on the console. It was Natalia's face. Her auburn-red hair was tight into a tight ponytail. Her outfit was the same as his, a red-grey padded jumpsuit. She smiled, eyes softening at the sight of him.
"Hey there champ, looking good! How does it feel to be the first human to enter a new dimension? Er... Well... The first one to go in after shit hits the fan, anyway. Same as usual."
The pilot took off his slim neurohelmet and smirked at her while raising an eyebrow. His eyes went down, then up back at her face.
"Hah. Why thank you." She laughed. "The engineers and scientists are still checking everything, making sure everything happens as planned."
He nodded. Natalia's face turned glum.
"Hey. I know we already discussed this last night but, are you sure you want to be the first one to go in there? This isn't some normal hyperspace jump, nor is it a normal combat drop. If what Burnam said is true, that means this will be something we've never done before. We might be messing with something that we shouldn't touch. I… have a bad feeling about this."
The Mechwarrior stared at her.
"I know, I know. It's not that I'm worried. It's just that I'm wondering if this mission is worth it. All I'm saying is, it's not too late to turn back. We can abort right here and now. Tell these weirdos to leave. It's a gut feeling I'm having right now. I don't understand why..."
He squinted. This wasn't like Natalia. Once she agreed on a mission, Natalia would throw herself into it wholeheartedly. Wolf Dragoons were bound by honor, and their word was no trivial thing. Hesitancy seldom happened with her. Was there something he should be picking up on? Something he hadn't seen yet?
She shook her head, and her expression returned to the formal, stone-hard face that everyone else on the dropship was used to.
"No. Can't turn back now. We are Wolf Dragoons, and this is simply another mission, right?"
The Mechwarrior put his neurohelmet back on and nodded. He pressed a button with his right hand. A green bulb lit up, and the Timber Wolf was listed as "Ready" across the dropship's systems. Natalia nodded and sighed. She didn't need to say anything else.
Just as the Mechwarrior was about to lean back and relax into the cockpit, his eyes shot open as a man approached the cockpit from the right. He wrapped on the window with his knuckles, the familiar red cap and blonde hair making him immediately recognizable. The Mechwarrior let the glass slide open, and Briefing Boy sat down on the rim.
"I saw your 'ready' ping just now. We're still making preparations, so you can just hang out for now, okay?... That being said, I should go over the mission briefings with you one more time, to be sure of everything."
Natalia chuckled from behind her screen.
"And you wonder why we call him 'Briefing Boy'."
Foster ignored her comment.
"Okay. So. Your mission is simple. Go through the portal. Afterward, wait for us to send you a machine that lets you return home. You'll need it since communications are going to be cut off, and we won't be able to pull you out from our end. After securing your exit strategy, head to the expedition campsite and try to see if their lead scientist is still alive. I have a hunch that the video blackout was too convenient. If not, just recover any data that might still be intact.
Make sure you keep in mind that the portals are powered by vast quantities of nuclear energy. If you don't have that, the portal doesn't work. That also means that the portal machine essentially carries a nuke inside it, so make sure it doesn't get compromised when we send it to you. Since you might have to leave it undefended, that's all the more reason why you should get this mission done quickly."
Someone else stepped into view of the computer screen. It was Dr. Burnam, still with the same appearance and outfit as during the briefing. Natalia turned towards her, before having a conversation that the Mechwarrior couldn't hear.
Foster continued.
"I should also go over your mech and what you'll be equipped with going in. Make sure you know all the tools you've got."
The Mechwarrior stopped paying attention. He already memorized everything that was on his mech because he had directed the weapons installation himself. For this mission, he opted for the primary default Mad Cat configuration. A balanced mix of ass-blasting lasers for short and medium ranges, and Long Range Missiles (LRMs) for anyone trying to act like a sniping asshole, as sniper-mechs typically tend to do. Heat sinks are also installed to manage heat, energy, and resources that the mech might expound during combat. The primary configuration was a basic all-rounder loadout that didn't lack in any particular area ... Though…. out of the literal alphabet of variable Mad Cat weapon loadouts, the Mechwarrior always had the most fun with configuration D, which featured a nearly endless supply of SRMs for constant explosive firepower, and two PPCs as its primary weapons for moments where he needed to say "Fuck YOU in particular!".
"...And that's all the equipment you got. Remember, when we lose communication, your objective is to go in and out fast. With how expensive and maintenance-heavy the Timber wolf is, it isn't suited for endurance-based conflicts."
Foster looked up from his datapad before his gaze focused on one particular item in the cockpit. A photo. He squinted, before realizing that it was of the three of them. The Mechwarrior, Natalia, and Foster standing with their hands on each other's shoulders, all three smiling and leaning sideways as they struggled not to spill the beer in their hands. Briefing Boy raised his eyebrows.
"Hey now. I'd be careful of having that if I were you. You know that old superstition right? Soldiers who talk about their families or friends are the ones guaranteed not to come back alive. Especially ones who keep a photo on them."
The Mechwarrior took the photo and held it up to Foster.
"NOPE! Don't give it to ME! If I have it, then I'M the one who's probably going to get killed! You can keep it if you want. I've got my copy back in the barracks…"
His eyes turned downward.
"So… What do you think of this whole mission? This whole 'magic' thing... I mean if I wanted to give myself pointy ears and dress up like a woodland sprite, I would have figured out a way to get back to Earth. And that's not even mentioning Dr. Burnam's whole spiel of replacing technology with magic. Think about it! No more mechs. No more ships. Damn, I'd be out of a job!... Not to mention the complete breakdown of the entire intergalactic economy, or the chance that there might not be enough magic fairies to share among all the different factions and planets. Sheesh… A war for magic...Uh….I'm talking too much again, aren't I?"
The Mechwarrior stared at him. Foster stood up straight.
"...Right! Anyways! Good luck, man. And good hunting!"
Foster held his fist forward, and the Mechwarrior struck his knuckles against it. With that, the cockpit closed, and Briefing Boy hurried off to his next task.
The Mechwarrior put the photo back on the bottom of the cockpit. There it would be out of vision during combat, but still there in case he ever wanted to look at it again. He didn't care about Foster's superstition. If he were to die in the field of battle… then what would he rather look at? What would he rather see during his final moments? The projectile turning his body into gore? … Or the cherished memory of those he loved and cared about?
As for magic replacing technology...he didn't know. He didn't care. For now, this was simply another mission to get done.
XXXX Murphy's Law
Natalia tapped her fingers across the touchscreen. She watched the bars and readings fill out before her eyes. Around her were others working with the group. A mix of scientists and the soldiers under her command. She pressed a button, and the lights dimmed as power diverted from the rest of the Icarus and into the main hangar bay.
Standing next to her was Dr. Burnam, quietly observing the operation. Her gaze flitted from screen to screen, noting her surroundings in cold calculation.
A low hum emanated from the portal. Natalia and Burnam watched it spark to life. Blue red particles leaping out from the opening at its center. She looked at the screen to her left and said
"You ready, tiger?"
The Mechwarrior gave a thumbs up, and double-tapped the 'ready' button at his side. The red "Ready" bar lit up on Natalia's screen.
"Briefing Boy. Everything set up on the technical side?"
She heard Briefing Boy's voice over the radio.
"That's an aff on our end, Major. Once we divert all of the Icarus into the portal, that'll be the time to send him through. He's going to have to jump inside as soon as it opens up. Once he goes in, we'll have to wait half an hour before we can open it up again."
Burnam tilted her head.
"Aff. That's short for affirmative, correct?"
Natalia nodded, before speaking back into the radio.
"And do we have the backup generators to restore some of the Icarus' power once the portal closes?"
"That's an aff as well."
Dr. Burnam put her arms behind her back and tilted her head.
"Yes. Time is of the essence here. We must hurry to get back our stolen data!"
"...Prepare for launch."
The pilot stretched out his arms and shoulders. His fingers waggled before gripping the controls. Natalia hovered her finger over the console for a second, before pressing down.
Nearly all of the power in the station was routed towards the hangar, funneled into the portal device. Every light within the Icarus dropship shut off. The ventilation system stopped working. The white glow of the fluorescent ceiling bulbs was replaced with the yellow rays of sunlight from the windows, and the shifting headlights of the vehicles that still drove about the hangar bay. But brightest of all was the circular portal, the kaleidoscope shapes and glowing rainbow colors cast over the base, giving everything an almost dream-like quality.
Exactly like in the video, electricity shot out across the hangar, scouring the metal plates like insectile feelers. Red and white electricity jumped between the metal sides, becoming solid lines of collected power. Blueish particles floated up from the source, soon filling the hangar with intangible dots of color. Absolutely everyone there couldn't take their eyes off the swirling mass of color and shape that lay at the center of the device.
A second later, the lights came back on. The hum of the air conditioning returned. And those who could still use their machines got back to work…. Until the alarm began to sound. A rapid beeping filled the control center.
One soldier shouted from his station.
"Ma'am we're picking up unmarked signatures approaching us from off-planet!"
"What!?"
"They're dropping down from orbit on our location. Ma'am! They're mechs! Multiple readings coming in fast!"
Dr. Burnam's eyes bulged. Natalia went straight to the radio and yelled
"All hands, battle stations!"
Then she switched to open channels and broadcasted herself across space.
"Unmarked units, you are landing within our airspace. Identify yourselves immediately or we will open fire!"
...No response. The soldier shouted
"Thirty seconds and closing! Ma'am, they're from the Word of Blake!"
A chill ran up Natalia's spine.
"Impossible. I thought they disbanded after we killed their leader."
"Multiple heavy and medium-class mechs on visual! We're about to be surrounded!"
The doctor let out a choked scream, and her voice shook with panic.
"The Word of Blake? They... They shouldn't be here. We were so careful covering our tracks!"
Natalia grabbed the doctor by her collar and lifted her above her head.
"What do you mean by that?!"
Burnam choked, body twitching, fingers trying to pry herself out of Natalia's grip.
"Did you... think you were the only mercenary group we tried to hire for this mission? The Word of Blake was the first organization we went to... But... They were going to imprison us and force us to give up our research... had we not escaped!"
"You didn't know that they're wanted terrorists!?"
"..."
Natallia threw Burnam to the side and immediately hit the comms.
"Defense positions! We need every gun armed and ready right now!"
Another button press brought her to speak with Briefing Boy.
"Get the Mechwarrior out of there! We need his help if we're going to fight these guys off."
"It's too late! The teleportation process has already started. We can't stop it!"
The portal was widening. Its white light filled the entire hangar bay, shaking the station as though it were in the center of an earthquake. Outside, flaming balls of steel slammed into the ground. Ocean water spraying into the cliff turned into white steam, following the smoke that emanated from each mech.
"The machine still took up all the power in the station! Nothing's working!"
"Goddamnit, we're sitting ducks out here! They caught us with our goddamn pants down!... All mech pilots deploy now! Open the hangar bay, and defend this dropship!"
They could hear the heavy footfalls of mechs approaching the Icarus. The rapid sprint of scout-class mechs grew louder and louder...along with the slow and groaning heave of an assault class.
Just then, a patch of wall on the northern side of the Icarus started to glow red hot. A low sizzle emanated from the steel walls, before melting away. The wall exploded, killing several and sending the rest dashing for cover. From the dust emerged a semi-humanoid figure. A silhouette that looked like a brick with chicken legs. A Carronade. A heavy-class mech specifically designed to wreak havoc within broken enemy lines. It towered several stories high, casting a shadow over the workers scurrying away from its mechanical legs.
The whir of gears and circuitry filled the station, every movement a roar from the mechanical beast. And the cougar swiveled its torso, left and right as though scanning the base, before firing on the crew. Machine-gun rounds, every bullet the size of a full-grown man, punched through the steel beams, shattering the infrastructure into chunks of twisted metal. Laser cannons on the arms of the mech fired, creating solid beams of green light that blasted the defending Icarus pilots before they could get to their mechs. Their screams reached a fever pitch, only to cease abruptly, replaced by the crackle of energy that rang across the dropship.
Another enemy mech filed in through the hole. A Cougar scout-mech. This too opened fire upon the interior of the hangar bay. And through it all were the screams of the soldiers and scientists caught in the crossfire. Broken and burnt limbs flew from the explosions, smearing cracked walls with blood.
XXXX Launch Of The Mechwarrior
The pilot's hands were a blur of motion. He tapped at the controls. Pulled the yoke of the mech, trying his best to force the machine to move. But it was just as the scientists guaranteed. The mech was fixed in place. "Stabilized". Helpless. He strained his body left and right trying to see out of the cockpit. But there was no opening in the pod. The only things he heard were the explosions and the screams. The only thing he saw was on the monitor to his left. On the screen Natalia was barking orders like mad, trying to get defenses up. Trying to salvage what she could. But the dust and the smoke obscured the view. The pilot hit the eject button, only for the system to get an error screen across his helmet. And in sheer frustration, he slammed his fist against the console, as though the pod would open up through sheer brute force.
Outside, more and more mechs came pouring in, firing on all sides as they entered. Centurions and Legionnaires dwarfed the cougar by several meters. These mechs had several more layers of armored plating and enough power to simply erase all resistance on a whim. By now it was obvious that the Icarus dropship was lost...and the Mechwarrior watched the feed on his video screen. The sounds of combat that he couldn't take part in. The screams of his comrades who he couldn't help. The pilot could do nothing but sit in his prison, watching as the place he called home for years was lit up in flames.
An explosion set off directly in the wall of the main control room. Natalia screamed, the whole control room became obscured by smoke and flame, the force of the blast knocking her against the console before she crumpled onto the floor. Dust and debris filled the screen, visibility lowered even more by the cracks across the camera lens. The pilot watched, holding his breath, fearing the worst for Major Natalia Kerensky...
…. Then she groaned and pulled herself up, her face clear on the monitor despite the damage. Blood dripped from her head and face. Her uniform had torn across the shoulders. She grit her teeth in pain, and the Mechwarrior let out a breath in relief that she was still alive.
Natalia turned around. By then the dust had cleared to reveal a hole in the wall that led directly outside. There was another whir of machinery before something peeked in through the hole. A giant human skull shifted before them, its glowing mechanical eye cast the room in a horrifying red glow. Natalia turned to the monitor and smiled.
"Sorry, Tiger. Looks like we can't support you this time around… Don't worry… I'll be waiting for you to get back… Just like always…"
She pressed a button on the console. The pod in the hangar jerked to life, rockets firing off at the back. It burst forward, driving itself on the rails installed on the hangar floor. The Mechwearrior gripped the controls of his mech and braced against the shift in gravity, his entire body being pulled into the chair of his cockpit, groaning as he sped straight into the open portal.
Author's notes:
Hello everyone! Thanks for reading!
With this second chapter done, I am officially finished with this commission. The writing process was absolute hell, but finishing this work was especially satisfying. If anyone finds any mistakes in strategy, lore, or characterization, please let me know!
I'm really happy that it's these two particular universes crossing over. Not only are both series very nostalgic for me, but I find the two universes almost completely opposite of each other in terms of lore.
The BattleTech/Mechwarrior characters are all based in a violent, competitive, technology focused culture. It's a universe that emphasizes tribal factions with huge armies and unique ideologies all fighting for survival. There is no magic in mechwarrior.
Touhou, on the other hand, has no real groups larger than 3 or 4 girls. Everyone is their own individual self, partnered with a select few others. There is barely any real violence, resources are plentiful, and all conflicts are essentially consequence-free. In its current age, the denizens of Gensokyo have never undertaken, nor needed, the massive industrialization and arms race that happened in the mechwarrior universe. As Dr. Cullen saw in chapter 1, Gensokyo might as well be a literal paradise. - Except that paradise has a catch. Any foreigner (those who cross over from the "Outside World"), is free to be killed by youkai. Hence, why I believe that chapter 1 of this story is entirely possible.
And I really NEEDED to make chapter 1 the way I did. I could have very easily made a typical anime-style isekai story, where I shove the mechwarrior into Gensokyo without context or catalyst. But fuck that. I hate Isekai stories. I didn't want an anime story. I didn't want Sword Art Online or Highschool DxD or some other tropey bullshit. I wanted actual genuine horror and action. I wanted the first two movies of the Aliens franchise. I wanted HP Lovecraft's story "The Mountains of Madness", or Joseph Conrad's "Heart of Darkness".
Chapter 2 was mostly a continuation of chapter 1, with both only separated due to my self-imposed time constraints. In chapter 2 I wanted to make it absolutely, 100% clear that the mechwarrior has a real, genuine reason for wanting to go back. The mechwarrior's history, and his relationship to Natalia and Foster needed to be at least touched upon so the audience can understand the reason for actions he might take later on. And that's another thing I hate about isekai characters. None of them seem to have a past. They never acknowledge what they're missing out on in the other world. They always just adapt to the world they're pulled into without regrets. To my knowledge, they never feel homesick or even miss the food or culture or the people they left behind.
Man, isekai anime characters are fucking bullshit to me. Or maybe they all do that and I wasn't paying attention? idk.
Anyways, I hope you all had a good time reading this commission! My next work is going to be an NSFW Touhou piece, so heads up for that. I'll also be working on a new edit as well.
If any of you are interested in following my twitter, you can do so at /inksaw114.
BEWARE of my art edit gallery. Avoid that place if you don't like seeing non-con tentacles.
BIG shoutout to Black Pants Legion on youtube, whose videos drove me into a rabbit hole of Mechwarrior/Battletech lore. If anyone is interested in a some lectures about mechwarrior lore that happened to have HIGH production value, I highly recommend his channel.