DC Heroes: MechWarrior I
By: Christopher W. Blaine
e-mail: darth_yoshi@yahoo.com
DISCLAIMER: Battletech™ , MechWarrior™ and all other related characters and situations are ©2002 by WhizKids Corporation. Batman™ and all other related characters and situations are ©2002 by DC Comics Inc. All previously copyrighted and trademarked materials are used in this story without permission for fan related, non-profit entertainment purposes only. This original story is ©2002 by Christopher W. Blaine and may not be reproduced in any form, in part or as a whole, without the express permission of the author.
Chapter 1 Justice City New GothamGotham Commonwealth
May 12, 3020"Father, when will the throne be mine," Crown Prince Bruce Wayne asked. The Archon of the Gotham Commonwealth, Thomas Wayne, looked down at the eight-year old heir to House Wayne. The dark hair and wide-eyed expression was so much like the boy's mother that he couldn't help but stoop down and give him a hug.
"You worry so much about the responsibility of power that you do not take the time out to have fun," Thomas said as he picked the boy up.
Bruce laughed. "I do have fun, father."
Thomas tickled his son. "And what, pray tell, does a young prince do for fun?"
Bruce gave a high-pitched wail of pleasure and squirmed in his father's grasp. "I play war! I pretend I'm in a BattleMech and bringing down the evil people!"
Thomas stopped tickling Bruce and set him down on the ground. Immediately the boy thought he had done something wrong and his face displayed his sorrow. Thomas sighed and took Bruce's hand, leading him up the grassy hill. "Son, war is not a game and BattleMechs are not toys. There is nothing fun about people dying, even if they are your enemies."
The reached the hilltop and were given a birds eye view of the military compound below them. This was the home of the 1st Gotham Knights, the premier unit in the whole of the Gotham Commonwealth. It was the unit that Thomas Wayne, as Archon, commanded and it was the unit that Bruce would also be expected to lead when he assumed the throne. "BattleMechs are machines of destruction, and nothing good ever came out of destroying. We arm ourselves only to protect our people; that is the ultimate responsibility of House Wayne. That is something you must always remember."
"Then why do you fight if war is bad?" Bruce asked, his young mind struggling with the moral dilemma.
"Because if I don't then who will? The common people cannot hope to stand up to the forces of our enemies." Thomas was silent for a moment and then pulled Bruce as he began to go down the hill. "Come now, your mother will beat us both if we don't get back."
They were racing each other by the time they were halfway down and Thomas let the boy win. Bruce jumped up and down, yelling to the sentries that he was faster than the Archon. The soldiers smiled and laughed until Thomas gave them a stern look. The noncoms immediately went back to attention, but the old Gunnery Sergeant in the guardhouse just smiled and lit up a cigar. Gunnery Sergeant "Slam" Bradley had lived through too many battles to be frightened of an ass-chewing, even if it was by the Archon.
The father and son team were allowed through the gates without further incident and walked along the road that lead to the BattleMech hangers. BattleMechs were the ultimate evolution of the fighting machine, the full expression of man's desire for war and conquest. Standing some ten meters tall and weighing up to 100 tons, bristling with PPC's, missile launchers, autocannons and lasers, they were giants that strode the modern battlefields.
When they reached the hangers for the command lance, the four 'Mech unit that Thomas was assigned to, Bruce was thrilled to see his mother, Martha, standing next to her HNT-4f Huntress, going over the latest maintenance reports. He ran up and hopped into her waiting arms. "Bruce, you smell like a pig! Where did your father take you?"
Bruce began making "oink" sounds and Thomas shrugged. "We went for a run."
"In the middle of a day like today?" she shook her head and put her squealing son down. He jumped up and down and begged to go look at his father's 'mech.
"Don't try climbing into it, do you understand?" Thomas called to the boy, but he was already inside the hanger and out of earshot. "He likes to play war."
She shivered. "God, I hope not. I hope we can leave him an inheritance free of that." She handed over the maintenance report. "I'm still unable to convert to fighter mode."
Thomas scratched his head. The Huntress was one of his own designs, a newer machine to help supplement his already stretched forces. For three hundred years, the five Successor Houses had been battling each other with utter savagery in three separate "Succession Wars". The entire idea was that whoever could defeat the other Houses could assume the throne of the Justice League.
When mankind had left Terra, or Earth as it had been called then, it had been with the intent to extend the dominion of the planetary government. It had worked up until it became apparent that Terra could no longer control all of the planets. The Inner Sphere, those hundreds of worlds that had been colonized, began to form their own governments separate from that of Terra. As such, ruling Houses came to be formed.
House Wayne ruled the Gotham Commonwealth and they were currently emgaged with House Hol of the Thangarian Combine. The war was senseless, but Thomas had no choice but to fight it. If he didn't, he would surrender worlds he had sworn to protect to what he considered to be a fascist dictatorship.
Several centuries before, the Justice League had been formed to bring the different governments together under one banner, to ensure that all disputes and arrangements were carried out equally. It worked for several generations until three hundred years before Thadeus Sivanna had staged a coup and murdered the First Lord. Only through the efforts of General Jonathan Kent was Sivanna overthrown and peace restored.
But only for a short time.
"Well, dear, you do know that these Land-Air 'Mechs are troublesome," he offered as an excuse.
"Fine, you pilot my Huntress and I'll take your Batman." She put her hands on her hips and he noted that even after ten years of marriage, she still looked like headstrong Captain who had beaten him during then annual Gotham Games. She had been piloting an old model Spider, while he had been in an even older Jenner. He should have one except she had cut him off at the end of the obstacle course.
She had won the day and his heart. "Your machine is the wrong color."
She looked up at the black and purple paint scheme. "It matches the bruises you're going to have if you don't get them to fix my 'mech, Mr. Archon with a degree in 'mech design!"
He was about to answer when the attack klaxon began blaring a warning of impending doom. His personal communicator buzzed. He pulled it out, seeing the worried face of his wife. "This is One, go ahead."
"Sir," came a panicked voice. "We've got an unknown 'mech tearing up the armor training command out here in sector 14. My computer cannot indenti…" Static hissed through the speaker.
Thomas pointed to his wife and then to her machine and she nodded, pulling off her coveralls to reveal the cooling vest and shorts that were the common uniform of the professional MechWarrior. Because of the intense heat that the BattleMech's fusion reactor gave off during operation, wearing anything more could mean a quick and painful death from flash cooking or heat exhaustion.
"Three, this is One, Two and I are going to investigate," Thomas yelled as he made his way into the hanger bay.
A man's voice with a distinctly non-Gotham accent answered. "That is not advisable, sir. Four and I are only minutes away."
"Negative. Those trainees can't stand up to even a scout 'mech with those training rounds. We're the closest and already moving," he lied as he grabbed the rope ladder that led to the cockpit of his Batman. He was strapped in and going through a fast start when General Alfred Pennyworth again tried to convince the Archon not to going running off blindly.
"You're breaking up, old man, better get that com gear looked at," Thomas said as worked the foot pedals and pushed the throttle forward. The Batman stepped out of its slip in the hanger bay and walked by the scrambling technicians who were being screamed at by the pilots of the other lances. Thomas could imagine their ire when they found that all of their machines were down for maintenance.
Such a thing should never have happened and he made a mental note to have a talk with the Master Technician about his inefficiencies. The Batman then stepped out into the noonday sun and he saw the Huntress waiting for him. The 55-ton 'mech piloted by his wife looked as impatient as the woman at the controls. "I have the lead," he commanded. She responded and fell into line behind him.
As soon as they cleared the main perimeter fence, both machines broke into a run. The Huntress was twice as fast as the Batman, but did not pack near the punch that Thomas's 90-ton machine did and so it was important for him to go in first as they had no idea what sort of 'mech they would face.
"How in the hell did an unknown 'mech get on planet? We would have surely detected a DropShip burning in, wouldn't we?" Martha asked.
Thomas gritted his teeth and adjusted his HUD. "Unless we have been betrayed," he said coldly. Oracle, the Gotham Commonwealth intelligence agency, had reported that they had information that someone had put a price on Thomas's head. That wasn't so unusual; all of the House Lords were under death warrants on many planets in the Inner Sphere. No, what had been disturbing was the amount of money that had been put up on the contract.
Oracle had suggested that only another House Lord could put up such money and the first person that came to mind was Coordinator Katar Hol. His hatred of Thomas went back to the border skirmishes of the last decade when the 1st Gotham Guards had faced the 15th Thanagarian Wingmen. Katar's mistress, an unidentified MechWarrior, had been killed when Thomas' PPC had exploited a deep chest wound and caused the Thanagarian 'mech to explode. Thanagarians were known to be very protective of their women and Katar had taken it as a personal attack against him.
"Thomas," Martha said, "I have a contact at 900 meters, just behind Hill 112."
He checked his own display as he passed through the warning sign for the training area and interlocked his weapons into his preferred firing configurations. A red dot was moving and that bothered Thomas. There should have been at least four training tanks out here as well.
"Jump the hill," he called out. Both 'mechs began to rise on plasma exhaust as their jumps jets allowed them to rise and sail over the hill. Alarms screamed as Thomas cleared the top; he realized much too late that the enemy 'mech had a target lock on him.
Two large lasers fired and struck Thomas's leg, causing armor to run like blood from a wound down to the ground below. His engine temperature shot up as the jump jet and heat sink in that leg exploded. He cursed. There was no way that hit should have penetrated all of the armor his legs had. He should have been hurt, but not this bad. His schematic showed that nearly all of the armor had been flayed from his 'mech's leg.
As his 'mech fell to the ground, Martha's Huntress let loose with a four-pack of short-range missiles. As her 'mech sailed past the giant enemy machine, she grinned in satisfaction as the exploded near the cockpit. The other 'mech turned slowly, as if annoyed, and fired a single burst from it's twenty-shot autocannon.
The depleted uranium-tipped rounds poked and punctured at Martha's weak rear armor and she heard something rattle loose as she landed several meters away. The enemy 'mech was now turned to fully face her and she gasped as she took it all in. It was almost as tall as Thomas's Batman, but had a broader torso that appeared to hold at least two different types of autocannons. Each arm held a long-range missile launcher and large laser as well. This was a machine built for one thing: destroying other 'mechs.
BattleMechs were often classified based upon their weight class, either being scout (light), medium, heavy or assault and then they would fall into other categories as well. Some machines were meant for fire support, while others were designed along the lines of fire suppression. This angry looking machine was a 'mech killer.
Thomas's Batman slowly stood back up, but he was in serious trouble. Alarms were ringing and his control board looked like a Christmas tree. He cycled for his three small lasers, afraid of what would happen if he tried anything else and was about to fire when he heard a whimper. A cold blanket of horror fell over him. "Bruce? Bruce are you behind me?" He couldn't take his eyes off of the strange 'mech that was bearing down on his wife.
"I'm sorry, father; I just wanted to ride with you," Bruce called from behind the small storage locker. The cockpit of the Batman was barely large enough to hold Thomas and he couldn't imagine how his young son was able to squeeze his way into the ramped storage space.
The small lasers stabbed out at the rear of the other 'mech, but did nothing more than burn away some paint. He wanted to turn around and run, but he couldn't leave Martha alone. If her LAM package were working correctly, she could just fly away. He had to risk something more than tattooing his adversary with the underpowered lasers he was currently using.
"Bruce, son, if you're getting hot you need to pull of your clothes," Thomas said as he selected his autocannon. The heat build-up was already unbearable, thanks to the loss of his heat sinks in his leg. He pulled the trigger, striking the other 'mech right behind the cockpit. "That'll ring his ears!"
The other machine stopped marching towards the Huntress and brought both arms up. Two emerald beams shot out and penetrated the upper arm of the Land-Air Mech, dissolving the shoulder actuator. Internal explosions rocked the smaller machine as SRM ammo cooked off from the heat of the attack. Armor melted away and then was forcibly tossed in chunks as the ammunition exploded.
The right arm of the Huntress disappeared in a fiery blast and the 55-ton 'mech stumbled and nearly fell. Only Martha's superior piloting skills kept the machine from falling down. The victorious 'mech turned to face Thomas. "Nobody takes my wife's arm off," Thomas said grimly as he armed his particle projection cannon. Blue-white lighting erupted from the left torso of the Batman and slammed into the chest of the attacking BattleMech. The heat in Thomas's cockpit spiked sharply and he began to sweat bullets, but he was happy to see several tons of armor melt away from the enemy 'mech's torso. That had definitely gotten his attention.
"Get up off the grating, Bruce," Thomas called as he felt the heat from his fusion engine leach through his boots. He heard the boy grunt and groan then yelp as he touched something that was hot. "Be careful, son," he said as he flipped to his command frequency. "This is One, I have engaged an unknown assault-class bipedal BattleMech. No identifying marks…hold one!" Thomas pressed a button and his HUD zoomed in on the chest of the other 'mech as the two of them circled each other. Their slow dance was moving them farther into the training area and away from the crippled Huntress.
He could just make out an emblem on the right thigh that appeared to have been hastily painted over. "What is that? M? MM? MN?" Autocannon rounds from the other 'mech broke his concentration as they walked down from his chest to his exposed leg. Three rounds found their target, blasting through exposed myomer muscle and splintering titanium bone.
The Batman wavered slightly as Thomas strained with the controls. "Stay up, stay up!" he cried out. Another burst of fire from an Ultra model autocannon finished the job and the Batman's leg was completely severed. The 90-ton BattleMech could no longer fight the effects of gravity and dropped to the ground.
Martha felt the ground shake as her husband's 'mech crashed down. She knew it was impossible as there had been relatively little in the way of weapons exchange. The Batman was a tough 'mech, perhaps one of the toughest in the Gotham arsenal, and here it was down in less than five minutes of fighting.
Martha was no fool; she knew she was horribly outclassed and wounded, fighting a machine that barely had its paint scratched. She brought her own PPC up and aimed for the cockpit of her foe. "This is Two, One is down; I need support now!"
"Roger Two, this is Batwing Five, we are one minute out," came back a reply. Martha's heart soured with the thought of an entire lance of Batwing assault fighters coming to her rescue.
"I copy, Batwing Five," she said as she let loose with her weapon. Her aim was off and the ball of man-made lightning roared past the other 'mech. "Oh, God, no!" she cried as the other 'mech ignored her and raised a giant foot over the fallen Batman.
She pushed her throttles forward and the Huntress streaked across the training field, stepping over the smoldering corpses of the training cadre's 35-ton Bloodhavens. She started firing all of her weapons as fast as they would cycle, but her aim was thrown off by the loss of her arm. She tried to compensate, but it was to no avail.
Short range missiles and a medium laser burned into the right arm of the machine standing over the fallen Batman, but it did nothing to stop it from bringing a foot down on the top of the cockpit. The awful sound of metal tearing and high-grade plastics being reduced to so many pieces of trash was akin to a coffin lid being shut, Martha thought in horror. She screamed into microphone, calling Thomas's name, but received only static in reply.
The murderous MechWarrior then turned to face the rushing Huntress, waiting until the range between them assured a hit no matter what. Martha's life ended as the first part of the Alpha Strike, a tactic in which a BattleMech fired all of its weapons at once, smashed through her armor and cockpit, literally throwing her machine back.
The fusion engine must have been damaged by the strike as bright light could be seen escaping though the cracks in the armor of the Huntress as it tumbled onto its back. There were no longer any safeties to prevent the explosion of the 'mech's power plant and when it went, it sent large pieces of the machine flying high into the sky. One piece caught the lead Batwing as it swept in for a strafing run. The fighter spun away doing cartwheels in the air until it slammed into the unforgiving ground. The other three members of the flight swooped in and laid into the standing enemy 'mech with medium lasers that melted tons of armor from the chest and right arm.
The 'mech made no movement to return fire as the fighters soared off to turn for another run. It remained motionless through another salvo of death as the fighters gave no quarter in their efforts to bring down the enemy. The second run was punctuated with autocannon fire that split open the rear armor and damaged the gyro. The pilot, probably sensing that the 'mech was in no shape to fight now, ejected. A fiery plume shot away from the 'mech even as the fighters returned for a third attack.
"General Pennyworth," the young captain said, saluting his superior.
General Alfred Pennyworth stepped off of the ladder leading down from the cockpit of his BattleMaster and removed his neurohelmet. He ran a hand through his widow-peaked black hair. "Please tell me he's alive?"
The captain looked confused and his eyes moved over to the fallen Batman. Medical and salvage crews were moving all over it, looking like ants devouring a corpse. "Sir, Prince Bruce is hurt, but alive…"
"Prince Bruce?" Alfred gasped. Had the boy once again stowed away? That meant he had seen his father's death.
"Yes, sir; he'll live," the captain responded, very nervous now. The relationship between the General and the Archon was widely known to be a friendship of the strongest sort. Being the person to deliver the devastating news that the leader of the Gotham Commonwealth was dead was not exactly why the captain had joined the military. Still he continued with his report. "Sir, we are still looking for the Archon."
Alfred nodded, knowing that the force of being crushed underfoot probably turned his best friend to liquid. Somehow, it fit Thomas to know he was going to be absorbed into the ground of the planet he had loved so much. "And the Archon-Queen?"
The captain shook his head. "Vaporized when her 'mech exploded, sir."
"Are they okay?" someone called from behind them. Alfred turned to seed a young man carrying a fighter helmet and wearing basically the same outfit as himself walking and asking questions of everyone. The man finally made his way to Alfred, stopped and saluted. "Sir, Lieutenant John Grayson, 14th Aero Wing."
Alfred returned the salute. "You were the one who led the air assault on that unknown 'mech?"
John nodded. "Yes, sir; we were on CAP about two hundred clicks out when we heard about the battle over the box. We lost our flight leader in the first exchange and so I assumed command. Did we save the Archon?"
Alfred put a hand on the other man's shoulder. "No, but you saved the Archon-Prince and therefore have saved the Gotham Commonwealth. You stay right next to me, Grayson, do you understand?"
Tears were falling down John's face. "I didn't save him…"
"You did your duty, son," Alfred turned to the captain. "What about the other 'mech?"
"Uh, we have a tech that has tentatively identified it as a Bane, sir. Not a common design," the captain offered.
"How about the MechWarrior in it?"
The captain turned pale. "He punched out, sir. His Alpha Strike shut his 'mech down, damaged the engine and everything. Lucky he didn't blow up. We haven't found him, sir."
"Keep looking, man; I don't want one soldier to leave this field until we know who did this. As of now, I am declaring martial law in the Commonwealth. Get the Archon-Prince out of here and put him under guard." He turned to Grayson. "You go with him; protect him with your life."
Grayson stood tall, happy to be able to do something. "Yes, sir," he said with a smart salute.
As Grayson turned to run to the fallen Batman, Alfred began to go over the list of enemies that could have done this. It was a long list.
A very long list.