PROLOUGE
Aserlitz, Terra Ferma
August 28, 3135When the first thing you see when you wake up from a deep, alcohol induced sleep is a gun pointed right between your eyes, you know you're going to have a bad day.
"Look what we found, a smelly bum." Sneered the punk holding the gun. He looked barely out of his teens, but recent times seemed to have taken their toll. Standing behind him were three other boys, all dressed in ripped clothing and carrying crude weapons. The leader was the only one with a gun, I noted. They must be scavengers; no one out here is a good old-fashioned civilian. The bad and the ugly basically populated the city of Aserlitz. The good mostly avoided it. One of the thugs was going through my vest, when he found my ID.
"Hey this dude used to be in the Dragoons! I bet he's got some shit we can sell, make some serious dough."
He was half right. I was in fact, an ex-Wolf's Dragoons Mechwarrior, I joined up a couple years back, but they just weren't the same legendary mercenaries they used to be, so I left with my 'mech. Doing something for the republic was what I really wanted, so I had been on my way to Terra to join up, but I only had enough money to make it to Terra Ferma. They left me and my 'mech in Freinze, the capital city. Unfortunately, the local officials wanted to commandeer my 'mech for their own agendas, so I bolted and ended up in Aserlitz, which used to be and actual city, but now was more a pile of rubble. Lucky for me, I found a long abandoned underground hangar meant for VTOLs, but being empty it had enough room for my ARC-6S Archer. It was an old 'mech, leftover from the good ol' FedCom civil war, but It had saved my life many times. But that's enough reminiscing. The half that the kid was wrong about was that I had some good shit they could sell. I had some good shit, but they were not going to sell it.
"Ok Mr…" The kid with the gun grabbed my ID from his pal. "Mr. Neill. I know you probably have a 'mech, and if you don't, then at least you have something of value. So if you don't show me where the goods are, I'll shoot you."
"Ok, I just need to wake up some more first…" Then in quick move, I knocked the gun out of his hand, and bent his arm in a way no arm was meant to bend. There was a sickening crunch, and he started screaming like mad. I caught the gun with my other hand and pointed it at him.
"Shit man you broke my fuckin' arm man! Shit, shit! Fuck!" Cradling his broken arm, he ran.
I looked at the rest of his gang. "It would be one of those good life decisions if you followed him."
They did.
The next day, the local law enforcement came and arrested me.
R&R, I like opinions!
This is just the prologue, more will come