Gaither and Sons Self-Storage

South of Johannesburg, Carlisle

Lyran Alliance

25 March 3067

Liam flexed his bare hands, glancing over the panel in front of him. The soft green of the status displays, calibrated so that it did not hurt his night vision, bathed the cockpit in a soft glow that provided just enough light for him to orient himself in the endo-steel and composite coccoon.

Showing everything at full charge and readiness, he noted with satisfaction. It's a good thing that David's simulator included the start-up sequence with the switches instead of cheaping out – otherwise, I would have been half the night figuring out how to get this thing running.

He reached behind the seat and pulled out a black vest lined with tubes both inside and out. The bulletstop fabric felt coarse against his skin as he pulled it on and secured it. As he finished velcroing the last restraint, his free hand found the activation switch and thumbed it. Liam gasped and shivered as the sensation of a million frozen worms raised goosebumps all over his body. Blake's Blood! I don't see how they stand these things! I mean, how hot can a 'Mech cockpit get, anyway?

Every illustration and holovid that he had ever seen had MechWarriors wearing these blasted things, though, so there must be a reason.

Now, for the final part. Liam reached behind the seat again and fished out a bulky helmet with all manner of trailing wires and leads. Huh. Let's see… if I remember correctly, those patches are for the arms…

Liam hooked himself into the neurohelmet as quickly as he could, finally nodding in satisfaction. He took the final jack in his fingers and plugged it into the corresponding port in the console. Almost immediately, a blinding wave of pain washed over Liam, centering with a throbbing agony in his skull. Desperately, Liam groped from the console plug, but his fingers couldn't find it. His vision was going red around the edges and swam with each new agonizing pulse. Blood thundered in his ears. Almost at random, his hand found a knob up under the console and he twisted it. The pain immediately ebbed and Liam fell forward, gasping in relief. "Well… that wasn't nice…" he commented to the air as he took deep breaths, noting that his voice was hoarse. Liam got the eerie feeling that he had been screaming his head off during the first bit and hadn't had the presence of mind to know it.

There was still a distant ringing in his ears that refused to go away, but the console read a good link with the neurohelmet and he wasn't being assaulted with migraines. That was good enough for Liam.

Now, he mused, time to find a way out of here… Unfortuantely, there was no way to open the doors at the far end of the warehouse from inside the cockpit, and there was no way that Liam was ever going to unhook himself from the neurohelmet, now that it was working. He settled his left hand on the throttle grip and his right hand on the primary joystick control, taking one last moment to check his weapons groupings. Everything was charged, loaded and ready.

Now, the question: was he ready?

I guess I'm going to find out, Liam thought as he took a deep breath and edged the throttle forward.

With an almost-silent whirr, the cold myomer contracted and the Cauldron-Born took a lumbering step forward. The jolt clicked Liam's teeth together, and he closed them together for good to avoid biting his tounge or something equally unpleasant. Another step, and another jolt. Liam figured that if he hadn't fallen yet, the neurohelmet was probably working. He slammed the throttle wide open, aiming straight for the doors at the end of the warehouse.

The Cauldron-Born leaped forward at his command, crushing a crate under its left foot and casually throwing aside a stack of assorted other goods with its upper right leg. Liam squinted in concentration, trying to ignore the jolts as the 'Mech came closer to the doors. Closer still… almost on top of them…

Gaither and Sons had fortunately cheaped out on their bay doors. Designed to withstand nothing more than an eighty-kph wind, they were no match for 65 tons of endo-steel and myomer moving at combat speed. With a scream muted by the Cauldron-Born's enclosed cockpit, the doors tore. Sparks showered around the BattleMech as it broke free of its prison and into the open night air.

Liam took a deep breath as he saw the open spaces around him, realizing that the storage warehouse had instinctively made him claustrophobic. It was insane, of course; the warehouse was a huge building. Liam still couldn't shake the feeling of freedom, and with a grin accepted it.

Now, it was starting to come back to him. He instinctively leaned into the turn as he brought the Cauldron-Born to a heading of 210 degrees. If he remembered correctly, that was the location of the local millitia headquarters. Two of the planet's four 'Mechs – not counting his – as well as a fair few light and medium tanks were sheltered there. Either the Lyran loyalists would strike there or the local forces would be planning a counter-attack. It made as good a destination as any.

Lyran loyalists… With a sinking feeling, Liam realized that his Cauldron-Born was painted rather conspiciously in Lyran blue with the crimson fist of House Steiner splashed all over it. Boy. Just what I need, he thought to himself grimly. They'll probably mistake me for those Steiner nut-jobs and start shooting at me. Another thought occurred to Liam. Wait a bit, those Steiner nut-jobs will assume I'm one of them, too. Hmmm… I sense the potential for a bit of mayhem here.

As the minutes passed, Liam found that all of his time in the simulator was beginning to transfer to the real thing. He no longer even noticed the movement of his hands on the joystick and throttle; he simply guided the 'Mech without really thinking about it. The pounding rhythm of the Cauldron-Born's feet on the packed ground underneath stopped becoming bothersome jolts and became a regular beat, almost like a second heartbeat. Still, Liam knew full well that successfully navigating an open plain was a long way from engaging in actual combat.

His reverie was broken by a cheep from the targeting computer. With a start, Liam realized that he was already nearing the depot… and his guess had been correct. Ahead, he could see the landscape briefly lit by flashes of light from lasers and PPCs. His radar showed a dizzying number of contacts – ten, fifteen, maybe more. Liam's stomach clenched at the thought of having to face all those BattleMechs with only the aid of a few broken-down garrison units to help him.

A moment later, the first target was tagged and Liam drew a breath in relief. Only a Bulldog. Good. A medium tank – or any number of medium tanks – would make a poor match for his Cauldron-Born. If most of the targets were armor or infantry, maybe they could win through after all.

He cycled through the targets, nodding. It looked as though this unit of Lyran loyalists consisted of heavy and medium armor assets, led by a pair of Demolisher II tanks. Liam had faced them in traning and defeated them with ease; he expected little trouble.

"Punisher One," the comm crackled. "This is, ehhh, Hauptmann Burke. We're having trouble with the garrison lance. Where is the rest of your unit?"

Wheels turned in Liam's head as he realized that he'd had a miraculous stroke of good luck. One of the Lyrans had immediately identified him as an ally. Now, if only he could give a satsifactory response…

He cleared his throat and put as much of a growl in his voice as he could as he thumbed the switch. "Hauptmann Burke, the rest of Punisher Lance is dealing with… other targets. These old machines and senile pilots will fall to our combined assault easily enough."

"Uhhh… yes, sir. Orders?"

Yessss, Liam thought to himself as he replied. "Form up on me. I will lead the way. Burke, I want you and the other Demolisher to flank me. We'll take out their Victor and move onto the easier meat."

The tanks shifted and began moving towards him. Liam smiled as he saw a Catapult fire a full volley of SRMs into one of the retreating tanks, blowing it sky-high. A PPC carrier turned to fire on the Victor and took a Gauss slug in the turret. Capacitators discharged in arcs of electricity as the weapons were rendered useless. Liam chuckled to himself, tensing his fingers on the trigger buttons. The two Demolishers were in the lead, just as he'd hoped, coming up the ridge right towards him.

Liam dropped the reticule over the first Demolisher, hit the two firing buttons under his thumb, and prayed to whoever was listening.

The heavy lasers on each arm whined for a brief second as the charge built up in their barrels, then with a scream, unleashed their energy in angry beams of amber light. The large heavy laser missed just high, but the two medium heavy lasers and the medium pulse laser hit right where the turret met the body. The entire body of the tank seemed to swell a moment, then burst outward in sprays of orange fire as the ammunition detonated all at once.

Before Liam could even grin victoriously, the heat hit him like a sucker-punch in the stomach. Liam gasped as the temperature in the cockpit rose to oven intensity in the matter of a tenth of a second. It began cooling almost immediately, but he could still feel sweat forming all over his body. Forcing himself to focus, he twisted the joystick right and bracketed the other Demolisher. He pulled the trigger almost convulsively.

The entire endo-steel skeleton of the 'Mech vibrated as deafening thunderclaps sounded with frightening rapidity. A stream of depleted uranium shells the size of trash cans burst from the Ultra autocannon in the center torso, tearing into the Demolisher. Liam gritted his teeth and forced the joystick downwards, fighting against the recoil of the enormous gun. The stream of shells was a bit high, but effective nonetheless, removing the Demolisher's turret and all of its capability to do damage. It would play no further part in the battle.

Panicked voices sounded over the comm system, but Liam paid them no heed. He slammed the throttle forward, attacking on instinct. Many of the tanks weren't even firing in the confusion, and some were shooting at each other. He destroyed each one in turn, the smile on his face widening after each violent explosion. The heat from the heavy lasers coated him again and again in sweat; he did not notice. The only thing that mattered was the next target… and the next… and the next…

Liam blinked as a Burke PPC carrier exploded into a roiling ball of argent flame, realizing that there were no more targets. Heat alarms cheeped in his cockpit and the canopy was starred from machine-gun fire. Liam unbuckled himself and sagged forward, dry-heaving again and again in the oppressive heat. His entire body was shaking from the aftereffects of the adrenaline overload and his heart hammered like the discharged of the Ultra AC/20.

"…unidentified BattleMech, this is Captain Kristian Landover. State your name and affiliation or we will be forced to destroy you."

With a blink, Liam realized that the comm was for him. Gritting his teeth, he hauled himself upright and clicked the comm switch on.

"Captain, this… this is Liam Jenkins of the First Johannesburg Irregulars. Do not fire… I am on your side."

There was a pregnant silence, then Landover came back on with a note of doubt in his voice. "The First Johannesburg Irregulars? Never heard of 'em. As far as I know, we're the only unit on the planet other than the Dragoons at the spaceport and these Steiner bastards. And where did you get that—"

"Captain," Liam cut in, wearily summoning all the authority into his voice that he could, "you saw my performance and you've seen my 'Mech. If I wanted to, I could destroy you and your lance where you stand. But I don't. I'd really rather help you destroy these Crimson Fists, okay? Now, report."

Liam held his breath, frantically hoping that the captain wouldn't call his bluff. OmniMech or not, simulated experience or not, three opponents at once would cut him to shreds and leave the planet almost totally undefended.

"Okay, MechWarrior… I don't suppose we have much choice but to trust you." Liam released a breath that he didn't realize he'd been holding. "As far as we can tell, the enemy force split into two groups. The first group was headed south to secure the spaceport, while the other group is headed in our direction to take the captial. Our best guess has most of their units consisting of tanks and second-line BattleMechs, but we think they have at least a few of the newer assault models. Overall, that means about twelve 'Mechs and ten lances of armor – now seven lances of armor."

Liam shook his head in despair. There's no way we can protect both objectives at once, especially against so many!

"We do have some good news, sir," one of the other MechWarriors broke in eagerly. "A full company of Wolf's Dragoons happened to be in port, along with two of their DropShips. Even now, they're defending the spaceport. If the governor can push through the contract soon enough, they might even bring their DropShips north before the loyalists can get in the city."

"Yeah," the Catapult's pilot snickered. "Talk about a case of lousy timing."

Captain Landover laughed derisively, cutting off the hope that welled up in Liam's heart. "Don't count on that, people. The Dragoons won't take to the field a moment before they know they're getting paid. And the government around here can't push something like that through in a single night to save its life – literally. We're defending the city on our own."

The situation was becoming more and more clear to Liam as his cockpit returned to normal temperatures. He plotted out what he knew of the area in his head and nodded. It's not gonna be easy, but it's what we have to do.

"Here's how we work this," Liam began tentatively. "We know that the second group will be heading towards the main city gate about fifty klicks north of here. The nearest point for the main road, however, is only ten klicks north-northeast. We find a good spot, shut down, and prepare to unleash hell on them as they go by."

Landover barked a laugh. "They'll be coming up the main road, eh? Right towards the front door? That's the last thing any sane commander would do. We need to spread out and search for them—"

"No," Liam cut in sharply. Everything made sense to him now – well, not everything, but many things. "These Crimson Fists did a combat drop and a whole-world broadcast when it would really have been easier for them to take everything as quitely as possible. They head right towards the two biggest and best-defended targets on the planet. They broadcast on open frequencies. They even choose to drop in here when there is a full company of Wolf's Dragoons on the ground, which they really should have seen from orbit. What does that suggest to you?"

"That they're frickin' idiots?" one of the MechWarriors suggested helpfully.

"That they're running this entire thing like some sort of publicity stunt," Liam countered. "Like they want it to be all over the ComStar HPG News Report. Like they were filming a holovid to capture the interest of a bunch of teenage wannabe MechWarriors instead of fighting a real war." Hey, I know I'd go to see a film like that…

Thick silence prevailed for a long moment. Finally, it was broken by Captain Landover. "All right, Liam whoever-you-are. You've convinced me. We'll do it your way." His voice hardened. "And if you're wrong and they get to the city and start slaughtering innocents, it'll be on your conscience. Let's move out."

Liam shuddered as he throttled up. He remembered vividly the feeling of euphoria that had overwhelmed him as he had burned the tanks. Now, he was implementing a scheme that could end up destroying an entire city – just like Turtle Bay. I really am a Smoke Jaguar, aren't I?

May God have mercy on me.

AUTHOR'S NOTES

The Wobbly Guy: Thanks for the review! Yeah, I could have given him an assault 'Mech, but I don't like assault 'Mechs from a narrative or gameplay perspective for the main character. Too static. Medium mediums to medium heavies are where it's at -- enough firepower to slag something in the story without taking half of forever, but not a walking battleship turret.