Tan's Titans – Batavian Redoubt
Prologue
Presenting A Battletech Series of Short(ish) Stories
By Diondi Tan
Featuring Tan's Titans
2040 Hours, 16 December 3066
"Look, there's their DropShips, mum!" cried out the little boy, tugging on his mother's skirt. The crowd watched, entranced, as the two DropShips descended vertically through the dusk sky, their yellow fusion flames searing themselves into everyone's eyes. As they grew closer, so did the deafening roar the fusion drives produced. People in the crowd began clapping their hands over their ears, trying to reduce the noise to no avail; the bone-rattling roar continued to permeate their bodies.
The two massive vessels settled almost daintily onto their docks, with their doors facing the crowd. An expectant hush fell upon the crowd, and they were satisfied at the double-T logo emblazoned on them began to part, revealing the interior. The cheers fell freely from their mouths as the first 'Mech stepped onto the ramp.
"What 'Mechs do they have, Dad?" yelled the boy over the crowd at his father.
"Looks like… wow, that's a new one, I've never heard or seen one like it," yelled back the dad. "A Men Shen's after that; whoa, a Vulture; an Orion; Linebacker, that's quite rare; Loki; oh boy, a Gargoyle; Victor; a Naga…? All the way out here, that's really odd; wow, a Berserker; amazing, a Turkina; and Jesus on a jalopy, they have a Gladiator!"
"That's so incredible Dad!" exclaimed the boy. "They have so many Clan 'Mechs!"
"Yeah, I wonder how they managed that?" mused the dad. "They have more Clantech than most House units."
The vehicles came down to a slightly less riotous welcome, and the assembled fighting machines formed up into a neat parade position. The MechWarriors and the vehicle crews dismounted and stood at attention in front of their respective vehicles, waiting for inspection.
The Governor of Batavia came forward, inspecting the rows and rows of neatly painted gray-and-green war machines. He came to a halt in front of the Turkina, and extended his hand.
"Welcome home, Major Tan."
-----
A few days later found the Titans settled in quite comfortable at the Cold Lake Military Reservation, one of two bases on Batavia big enough to handle more than a company-strength force. Upon the Governor's insistence, all Tan's Titans personnel were invited to the Annual Winter Solstice Society Gala; hosted by the Halgarths, one of the fifteen most prominent families on Batavia, the event was one of the top three annual social gatherings held on Batavia. The event was stuffed to the gills with A-list attendees, and was a chance for the Grand Families to participate in a public show of one-upmanship. He remembered going to one when he was younger, and it was incredible fun. Each year, the theme was different, and this year's was historical: movies of the 20th century.
This was how Major Diondi Tan found himself sporting a leather jacket and a pompadour, of all things. The back of the jacket was emblazoned with a stylized thunderbird, and the lettering 'T-Birds' underneath that. He was staring at the vehicle in front of him astonished.
"Bryce, where in Blake's name did you find this ancient derelict?" he exclaimed, running a hand over the smooth, blue-painted roof.
"Ancient derelict?" snorted his 2IC, Captain Bryce Robertson. "Don't tell me you don't know what this is."
"Of course I do!" retorted Major Tan. "It's a 1969 Chevrolet Camaro Z28, in mint condition. A car made over thirteen hundred years ago, and one that shouldn't rightfully exist anymore."
"Tell you the story after," said Robertson with a grin, "We're about to be late for the party. I'll let you drive."
-----
The valet and the guests out in the lobby were staring enviously at the blue-and-white Camaro as it rumbled down the avenue behind the other, more modern, traffic. It gave one last rasping roar as it pulled up beside the lobby door, and then coughed quietly as it's motor stopped. The valet nearly dropped the key as it was thrown his way, and nodded dumbly as Major Tan gave instructions.
"-And don't drool on the interior. Got it? Good man," said aforementioned Major, patting the valet before entering the lobby. Catching Bryce's amused gaze, he fought to stifle his own grin and scanned the lobby. It was filled with people dressed in period costumes, and he snorted in amusement as he spotted a few Imperial Stormtroopers and Darth Vaders among the crowd. The male Titans personnel were all wearing the same leather jackets, and the females had silk jackets with 'The Pink Ladies' emblazoned on them. He stopped a passing waiter, and helped himself to several canapés as he continued to scan the crowd. Finding whom he wanted, he disposed of the remnants of the canapés and slowly made his way over. Sneaking up quietly behind her, he poked her in the side and chuckled when she gave a squeak, stiffening in surprise.
"Evening, pretty lady," he said with a smile. He felt his heart skip as she graced him with a sparkling smile, one that included her eyes.
"Evening yourself, you. I thought we agreed to stop the 'pretty lady' thing?" she said. Not waiting for an answer, she continued. "That jacket is far too garish for you. It doesn't suit you, being a bad boy, that is." She maneuvered her hand for a retaliatory poke at him, and Diondi deftly caught it between his side and his forearm, raising an eyebrow in reply.
"On the opposite side of the spectrum, that dress suits you very well," he murmured back, smiling when he saw the pink tingeing her cheeks. He loved it when he made her smile or blush. "You look beautiful, Rachel."
The band struck up a waltz, and he decided to take his chances.
"Would… would you like to dance?" he asked, groaning internally at his stutter. His heart beat faster than it did when he was off facing Smoke Jaguars back on Huntress, and he licked his lips nervously.
"Most definitely," Rachel replied, gracing him with another heart-stopping smile.
As the two moved onto the dance floor, Bryce Robertson turned to his fellow observer. "So, Dawn-Marie, how much longer do you think they will take?"
"Bryce, I don't know!" Dawn-Marie Small exclaimed. She craned her neck back to give the bear of a Scot an exasperated look. "You've been asking me ever since I joined the Titans three months ago! However, I give them no more than a month."
"My thoughts exactly," replied Robertson. His grin was infectious as he offered a hand to the diminutive woman. "Care to dance?"
/End/
