Quest Deep Periphery Quest (Battletech Sandbox Empire Builder)

[ShadowArxxy]

Omake: Deus Ex Machina

Given that the most famous battle of their ancient namesakes had been the siege of the final Jewish stronghold of Masada, the young acting centurion of Legio X Fretensis considered it a bitter irony that what was left of his legion would perish today as the final Roman stronghold against Pugnus Deorum. With the better part of four traitor Legions -- including their own sister units Legio X Equestris and Legio X Gemina -- surrounding their minimally fortified encampment, it was only a matter of time before his men and the handful of civilians they had managed to gather were overwhelmed and butchered.

The honor of the Legio, he reflected grimly, would have to be satisfied with the knowledge that they were the last faithful Legio whose Eagle still stood, and it would not fall while any man and woman here still drew breath. Weeks had dragged into months and all prospect of relief had faded to bitter ashes, but they would stand and fight to the very end.

The endless, infernal repetition of that damned chant abruptly cut into static, and an unencrypted voice transmission in English blasted through in its place. "FIRE SUPPORT, DANGER CLOSE. FIRE SUPPORT, DANGER CLOSE."

The sky exploded with the very wrath of the Gods.

For all that the subcapital weapons on board Task Force Blue Cougar's heavy DropShips were merely little sisters to full-fledged WarShip guns, they were still orders of magnitude beyond anything that conventional artillery could lay down. Descending from orbit but still far beyond the range of any anti-aircraft weapons, the freshly arrived Task Force laid down final protective fire patterns all around the encampment, wiping away the circumvallation with grimly methodical scourges of laser, cannon, and artillery missile fire.


Edit: MUSIC!

 

[Yacovo]

Omake: All your Catnip belongs to us

You are Governor Thompson and you have done well for yourself. Sure it took quite a few bodies and some under the table deals, but you are finally in charge of Tail Point, your own world on the Periphery.

Recovering from the pirate attack that took out the previous governor is going well. The agricultural sector, the main industry of Tail Point, was remarkably unscathed due to the attack focusing on the capital. The pirates only raided the food stores and a few dozen slaves. Although the lack of food stores and tractors will hurt in the short-term, only minor starvation seems to be in the cards rather than a full famine.

Thankfully the tractors converted into adhoc tanks are being refitted back to their intended purpose. The Artisans Guild report the tractor factory, the jewel of Tail Point, did not receive much damage. Unfortunately there will be delays as an engine shipment disappeared in the confusion. They are surprisingly willing to only accept a fifty percent tax cut for Guild Families for five years in exchange for the refitting contract to make up for the inconvenience. They even sent you a new car as an apology to you personally.

Why even trade has increased as a free trading Jumpship came to purchase the battle salvage shortly after the raid. This doubled the treasury after the Merchant Guild took their sixty percent cut as is their birth right. Not like we could maintain or rebuild those battlemechs anyway, especially with the damage the Merchant Guild reported.

You were in such a good mood that when a nervous sensor apprentice came and told you the biggest jumpship he’d ever seen just came into the system, you had high expectations of further trade and profit. Apparently they came from some place called the Griffon Empire, probably some jumped up warlord playing empire. They’d asked for grass of all things as a welcome gift in exchange for wine, the drink of nobility and Guild Councilmen!

Next morning you were waiting at the landing field with an unexpectedly frazzled Merchant Guild Councilman. You were quite frazzled yourself when a rather large dropship came roaring in. You did not realize they got that big. What trumbled out of the dropship sent you up into a proper panic!

It was if that cougar your late Uncle Johnny tried raising grew to the size of a barn, and it looked twice as ready to maul and tear! As you lay on your rump and slowly black out, the beast speaks in a deep and terrifyingly posh accent:

“Greetings, I am ambassador Pawson of the Griffon Empire. We heard Nepeta cataria is the main grass on this planet and would like to open up trade discussions.”

 

[Yacovo]

Omake: The Other Idea

The Eldest lounged on his pillow couch, pondering the latest inane bill a Senator had proposed. Sure the Senate helped with the year-to-year governance, but there were times when wanted to use some of them as a chew toy.

——

The Senator came in looking like he had just solved all catnip shortages.

“Greetings honored Eldest. I hope you are having a fine day today.”

“Yes, Senator Wilbrand. The sun is bright and warming today.”

Senator Joseph Wilbrand nodded as he began to take out some documents and warm up his voice.

“So I have gone over the data with all of our major space battles and have come to a conclusion. Almost every time we have taken massive losses among our capital ships; it was due to being overwhelmed by enemy fire without enough escort ships to stop it.”

The Eldest regarded him in the same manner as a kitten discovering that milk was wet.

“Yes more light ships would have assisted us. Have you discovered a method to increase the number of escorts in our fleet?”

Senator Wilbrand preened as he got into the meat of his pitch.

“Why yes! I looked over our ship production and noticed something startling. Did you know a large quantity of our ship production goes towards trade ships with the barbarians like the Pubbies and the Plebs?”

Resisting the urged to swat the now disliked rather than pitied man out the door, The Eldest waved his paw for him to continue.

“Just think! All that production wasted on inferior foreign goods. Clearly the corporations cannot be trusted to handle such strategic resources as shipyards. I propose we nationalize all Jumpship and Dropship production! That way we can channel these vital resources where they will do the most good. Obviously we will need a new committee to manage the inf-“

——

At least the good Senator made good distance when he was swatted out the door. Really, converting the entrance of his office into a sized up of version of what humans call a “doggie door” had done wonders for his stress. Even if the cost for a padded rug and walls was a bit of an expense. Tyler was such a brilliant man for telling him about the idea all those years ago.

Still, this was only the third time a Senator had proposed nationalizing ship production in the past seven years. At least it was new record, so maybe these Senators were getting a bit smarter. Maybe he will let the next bill Senator Wilbrand proposed go to the floor, just to see what he learned from this rejection, or maybe to just keep Jeremy on his toes. Humans do get complacent if left on their own for too long.

 

[Yacovo]

Omake: The Not Fun Crazy People

The door to the Taraba Kani Biiru swung open. Two men stumbled into the cheap bar smelling of smoke and tear gas. Arata looked to his friend Ryo who was still blinking to see straight. Normally their appearance would draw stares or even a few phone calls, but this was in the Dragon’s Haunt Neighborhood.

This once favored commercial area had seen better days when a stray bomber had to loose their bombs to escape a fighter. No one knew which side was the bomber and which was the fighter, but ever since this area has been a haunt for dissidents and freedom fighters. Any attempt by the occupying army to “clean things up” was met with righteous bombs and buildings rigged with Wyvern’s Breath, a wonderful mix of napalm and chemical gas made from cleaning products and industrial waste. The ecological damage alone kept back the cultural destruction of this historic district.

Arata slumped onto the bar stool after depositing Ryo on the adjacent chair.

“Welp, that’s the end of The Coming Phoenix. What’s that make, the third organization this year?”

Ryo shot up and turned to the blur that he knew was his old friend.

“Shut it, those were brave men and women! They all knew the certainty of the Combine’s glorious resurgence! Their desperate last stand served to invigorate these mewling sheep to rise up and fight for their rightful rulers.”

Arata glanced around during Ryo rant, but barkeep didn’t care to notice, and the patrons were either too drunk or too used to hearing people speaking the “Truth”. Ever since the occupiers passed that free speech ordinance, the patriots had been flocking to the streets to rally the people. Unfortunately, there is a difference to indoctrination from a ruling force and a throng of dirty, drunk vagrants screaming at every passerby on the street. The fact that these patriots were carted off by police only to “miraculously escape” from the drunk tank the next day only served to further delegitimize their cause.

“This last “Veteran’s Association” only lasted a few months. The legal work was so shoddy the occupiers saw through their fronts like a folding screen. Maybe we should law low for a year or so Ryo-san?”

Ryo had the gall to look stunned by Arata’s reasonable suggestion as Arata signaled the barkeep for the bar’s signature Radioactive Stinkers. The beer rose in popularity after the war before falling like a rock after the cleanup efforts started bearing results. The bitter and grimy taste was still a hit for those who wanted to remember The Good Old Days and a faux pax for everyone else.

“Nonsense Arata-san, we need to strike while the iron is hot! If we keep up our efforts, soon the rest of the occupied peoples of the Griffon Empire will rise up! Then the occupiers will be spread too thin to top our efforts! Why, did you hear the Grifters occupied another planet recently?”

“You mean Kaigna? Aren’t they sending relief shipments after a Black Steel attack?”

“You fool! You still believe that Black Steel nonsense? Those are brigands hired by the Grifters and paid in tech and slaves! They attack free worlds so that the Grifters can swoop in and “help” the raided world! Help themselves TO the world more like it! Just like the Grifters did when they paid the brigands to massacre New Eden!”

Ryo’s gesturing had knocked over one of the Stinkers the barkeep was bringing over. Arata shot him an apologetic glance and slipped him a few bills for the inconvenience and a new drink. The patrons were beginning to shoot Ryo glares. Only the real hardliners bought that particular interpretation by the Dragon of the events at New Eden. Especially with the number of former serfs from the planet on Okusawa and how the former Dragon "rewarded" their betrayal.

“I don’t know Ryo-san. Didn’t Black Steel hit a world in the TTP? I think the Emperor lost a lot of family, even his heir. The funeral proceeding lasted for weeks among the collaborators.”

“Obviously this was a false flag attack designed to curtail what little concessions the puppet-shogun received from kotowing to the occupiers. As for the heir, he probably done something to displease the tyrant. The attack let him chop two necks with one chop, all without the blood splashing back at him!”

There was a few “hear, hears” from the patrons as they settled back to their vice of choice. Quite a few patriots did not approve of the puppet-shogun. Seeing the surrender to the Grifters as a betrayal of the Kurita’s destiny to rule humanity. Those that approved of the former Dragon’s pruning of the family tree and expected the same expediency from the Grifters’ leader. Ryo had a gift for pissing off everyone in the room; only to say just the right thing to avoid a beating or a bullet. Arata knew this gift was unintentional.

“I am still having a hard time believing all these naval battles we keep hearing about are all stage and theater.”

“Silly Arata! My contacts have said that the former Empress had disappeared after meeting with the so-called Crimson Steel faction, a false face of the brigands to give the meetings with the Grifters some legitimacy. No doubt the wench has go over to treat with the brigands while waiting to throw off the mask and assume control of the fleets.”

Ryo paused to down a Stinker, gagging after emptying the cup as most do. Ryo’s eyes were only a dull red at this point as his boundless optimism reasserted itself.

“Enough of this sulking Arata-san! While you were moping about and shaking in your boots, I have found the next step in my grand plan.”

Ryo fished around in his pockets before producing a crumpled and badly made flier. No doubt it had been handed to Ryo prior to last raid. Ryo liked to collect as many of these things as possible even while working for another organization. He liked to say it only proved how highly sought after his skills were.

“Are you sure about this Ryo-san? This flier is even worse than the one you had for The Coming Phoenix. Lousy PR often means a lousy organization. I can barely even read what their organization is called with this fake stylized writing.”

“You worry too much Arata-san! This White Dragon Society is going to be the key to liberating the Combine, I just know it! Now come on! Glory, high positions, and high pay awaits us!”

Arata very much doubted Ryo’s promises. All the organizations that the two joined previously only used them for grunt work. Though maybe that is why they always managed to get away when things inevitably went south.

With a flourish that could be interpreted as drunken stumbling, Ryo emerged from the Taraba Kani Biiru. He began strutting through the Dragon’s Haunt towards his next fight for freedom and liberty for the Combine. Arata followed along, continuing to honor his oath to the man who talked him out of his darkest thoughts during the Fall of Okusawa.

 

[Yacovo]

Omake: New Capricon Gold Rush

The birds were chirping in Milk Dish Park as Tom sighed and got out another bag of breadcrumbs. After the latest round of automations at the factory, Tom was unfortunately given a pink slip. Sure, the severance package was nice, and unemployment kept food on the table, but it has been two months and Tom was itching to get his hands working again.

“Hey Tom! You’ve got to look at this!”

Bart stomped through the crowd of birds, scattering them to the skies. They had run into each other literally when Bart was taking a jog through the park about a month ago and they hit it off. Bart had always been more energetic than Tom. However, his spontaneous attitude meant it was harder for him to hold down a job. So, they would meet up and talk about new job opportunities they were pursing. It was more interesting than the birds at least.

“What is it, Bart? Another pyramid scheme for you to invest into?”

Bart had the decency to look bashful.

“That was the one time, and you got me out before I spent too much right?”

Nodding, Tom took the flier that no doubt contained Bart’s latest scheme. It was actually pretty well-made. Of course, Tom had to squint to see past all the blasted bright colors the maker had insisted to splash about.

“Frontier Expansions Recruitment Agency? Sounds like the group that sponsored the initial colonization of Pollux, and the chicanery that followed that mess.”

“No Tom, this is different. They are a group of investors focusing on building up new industry in the colonies. There getting ready for a big drive on Capricorn.”

“But the continent of Capricorn has been colonized for over half a century.”

“No Tom New Capricorn, the planet.”

“That dusty old farming world that got colonized over twenty-three years back? What’s world investing on that dirtball besides dirt tilling and tax evasion?”

“Well now that the pirates are gone and the economic recession on the world is over, capital has been flowing into that world like milk in a Grifftiger’s dish. There’s talk of an economic boom about to go off and FERA needs people to main the new stations. Factories, orbitals, service industries, agriculture, everything is expanding!”

Tom took a moment to consider. Bart was acting like it was sure thing. Which meant it was probably another disaster waiting to happen.

“I don’t know Bart. Sounds like something too good to be true. Who’s to say you are not being taken for a ride again? Or that the money won’t dry up in a few years?”

“Nah Tom, the investments are Endoclad. The government is on this thing like Majeure Electrique on a pyramid and guess what? Rumor has it that FERA’s a shoo-in to be the big winner in the first round of grants.”

It did sound tempting to Tom. The government has been pretty reliable about the programs it sponsors, if only to wash away the stain of The Great Land Scam. Martha has been complaining about the city air getting to her. Maybe a move to the boonies would do her some good. He might even get something like his old job back. Who knows, he might make enough to take that trip to New Port Royal he’s always been wanting to take. Even if things do fall through, land prices would probably be cheap enough to buy a good plot of land to work. Not a bad twilight for a working career.

“Alright Bart, you sold me. I’ll head to this FERA place with you. Just give me some time to convince Marta and settle the paperwork before zooming off into the void without me.”

“Great Tom! I knew I could count on you. I get a bonus for each additional person I can bring with me. See ya!”

And with that ringing endorsement of this FERA place he’s off. Well, it can’t be a complete disaster. Besides, it is not like that many people are going to be heading for New Capricorn anyhow.

 

[Yacovo]

Omake: Better Star League

Protector Calderon entered the debriefing room with just the right amount of haste befitting the current crisis. Every month there are more and more reports of “Star League” fleets of warships, (honest to liberty warships!), visiting more planets in the Concordant’s sphere of influence. Planets seem to split from intense panic, grim spite, or immediate surrender with the fleet’s arrival. The latter happening too often for the Protector’s liking. Every planet that falls is one less for these pretenders to chew through before reaching the Concordant.

Protector Calderon: “So, what is the current summary of these new invaders from the Deep Periphery?”

Admiral Fonn: “According to our agents, these “Better Star League” ships showed up a year ago. They have been visiting worlds and intimidating them into allowing them build installations on their planets and in their orbits. They claim it is to “fix the terraforming and quality of life projects Worse Star League never got around too” To their credit, they are fixing a lot of abandoned terraforming tech around the periphery”.

Protector Calderon: “Typical Star League propaganda for setting up military bases to keep “the uncivilized” in line. Though if they are imitating Star League, why do they call it Worse Star League?”

TMI Director Meyer: “When our agents asked the highest ranked personnel they were able, the officer starting going into an impassioned rant. They claim their star empire was founded by a branch Cameron line who left for the Deep Periphery “to make their own Star League, with a blackjack planet and naked volleyball tournaments.” Given reports the pet dinosaurs and large tigers in power armor, this at least sounds like one of House Cameron’s projects.”

Protector Calderon: “Regardless of whether their leader is of the Cameron Line, we have warships near the border we were not expecting. I am authorizing our peripheryward defenses and nuclear stockpiles to be brought to the level our sphereward defenses are, whatever the cost. The draft might have to be instituted, but with all the Star League paraphernalia this invasion is wearing, it might not be necessary."

Director Grimes: “Sir, that level of build-up might agitate the Inner Sphere powers. The Fedrats might use this as an excuse to step up raids. We cannot afford an invasion from two sides.”

Protector Calderon: “If we get any complaint for the Sphere, send them pictures of the warships. Men, our ancestors already fought off one Star League invasion, and the Concordant will not fall to a second!”

Protector Cameron looked around the room at their grim cabinet. This “Better Star League” thinks it can rampage through the periphery doing whatever it wants? Well they will soon see how stubborn this Bull can be!

 

[Yacovo]

Omake: Corner Flags

Knight second class Jaquet Gillet was primed and ready to stomp on some Noir dogs. Not stomp upon them literally, as stomping other players violated Rule 34-B on page 1846 of the official War Handbook version 23 (abridged, as the unabridged version could not fit in Jaquet’s cockpit and have the cockpit remain regulation legal).

Still, Jaquet was gripping his controls and anticipated the start of the battle. The Ceremonial Artillery Pieces fired their starting flares, signaling the matches beginning. Certain forms of artillery being declared foul under Poor Form Rule 84-C over twenty years ago. Thus, alternative uses had to be found for the newly banned cannons.

Jaquet was making good time running down his designated lane. He did not want to be given a foul for breaching Rule 69-H for Unnecessary Flanking again. That had cost Jaquet his shot at making Knight first class that season.

It took weeks to repair and repaint his mech to rules legal standards after taking the penalty shots given to the Noir tank. Jaquet still thinks that dastard of a tank pilot tuned his lasers past regulation intensity limits.

“Tweeeet!” Rang through the Referee Radio installed in every cockpit and in the hands of every designated radio carrier in the infantry squads. What had happened? Had someone broken Rule 58-G and fired before the Regulation Firefight Period had started? That carried a serve Mandatory Mech Ejection penalty that cost the Noirs the Top Skirmish Cup eight years ago.

“Delay of game. Violation of Warzone Code 49: Corner Flag not in place at the start of battle.” Oh great, that stupid rule. Why the War Regulation Commission insisted in placing corner flags at the corner of every designated battlefield escaped Jaquet. Why couldn’t they do away with such a pointless and unnecessary rule?

 

[ShadowArxxy]

Omake: I'm Certainly Not Fanning the Flames Because I'm Right, Right?

Not too surprisingly, the explosion of socialist and anarchist fanatics in the Skala system is a countless-ways free-for-all, with not only an "all of them" variety of positions but also a full spectrum of sincerity ranging from genuinely-raving ideologues to simple opportunists.

Arguably the most dangerous of the lot are those who are nearly sensible. There's a rapidly growing niche of grassroots leaders who are unambiguously condemning the "unfortunate excess" of violence, but at the same time insisting that harsh punitive measures are justified because of the way the corporation was attacking the fundamental civil rights of the people of Skala. They're portraying the company's actions as an unambiguously malicious attempt to misuse Imperial anti-corruption measures to strip the people of Skala of their very right to democratic self-government and representation, and hold that up as an example of why corporations can never be trusted and why the government should double down on anti-corporate measures.

Specifically, there's growing calls for local systems to be allowed much greater autonomy, but within a framework that explicitly denies local citizenship to "corporate immigrants", citing a surprisingly broad array of historical precedents from pre-space Europe and the United States in support of restricting citizenship and voting rights based on local plebiscites. Taken in context of the current situation, they're not remotely as high-minded as they're making themselves sound, but they're sounding just reasonable enough to garner truly dangerous amounts of support.

((Basically, they want a Swiss-style system where the majority of local residents can effectively vote people off the island in the name of "cultural assimilation" and "maintaining traditional values". And while that can be argued for as a point of principle, they're very clearly doing it to double down on the current mess.))

 

[Yacovo]

Omake: New Boss, just like the Old Boss?

Port Milano, Office of the Quartermaster (Rename pending)

Scurvy Saul took another quaff of his Grog Lite as he waited for his Tack&Meats to heat up. It was time for another boss to take over. Like all the other times it began with a purge of the upper management. This time seemed to be more thorough, however. The ropes of a new regime managed to come worryingly close to his level. He kept his nose and mouth fairly clean so even if anyone came looking into the Underoffice of the Fifth Undersecretary of the Underquartermaster, they probably wouldn’t find anything to hang him over.

The door creaked open and Keelhaul Keith’s stump clackered as he came over to Saul. Why Keith insisted on a wooden stump for his lost leg, Saul will never know. Whenever they argued over it, Keith always said Saul had no appreciation for the “classics”. Saul liked to think Keith did things like that so the bosses would find him too amusing to kill.

“Hey Kieth, What’s the swab on the new bosses? I hear they are a bit populist. Mine and factory workers falling over themselves to ingratiate themselves.” Keith would know. His work with void wharfs means his news was pretty fresh, if not completely accurate.

Keith shook his head. “Nah, give it a year or two and those chumps will be back in their mines and factories. Bosses tend to go soft for a bit until they are forced into some hard choices and then the collars come back. These guys seem to be sporting quite a bit more loot than the previous boss, so at least we won’t have to worry about any lean years for a while.”

Understandable. Any boss that could sweep Starboard Sheryl’s fleet so easily must have some wealth built up. Sheryl always had her head in the stars over the landlubbers. New boss must have other holdings in the area, maybe even a shipyard or two. “So, what about the new boss? Hear she calls herself an empress. We going to have to build up our cupboards because she values a chandelier in her captain’s quarters over keeping the larders full?”

“Dunno, was a lieutenant that came out our way to take over. Boss must have a good enough head or rocking the boat with them to trust them with taking over the Port. Though I saw some of the new crew coming in and I think we might be in for another Blue Moon.”

Oh great, Blue Moon bosses were always a bit touched in the head. They either were relatively harmless or incredibly dangerous if you didn’t acknowledge their flying pink elephant in the room.

“Give it to me mast straight Keith. What are we in for? Am I going to have round up scapegoats like we did for Cannibal Casey? Abyss help us if they are like Jane Doe the Pysc-hoe. Always shot folks who thought he was a lass. Think that’s how he got his jollies.”

“Relax nothing like that. It is just they might like their animal companionship a little too much.”

“Oh, so like Captain Endobeard and his First Mate Peppersnips. Still a better First Mate than some of the schmucks I have seen. Created less hassle for the Quartermaster’s Office at least. What crews do on long voyages it not my concern as long as it doesn’t affect the larders or stores.”

“Worse, remember the Killy Willies that old Laser-Eyed Jack liked to visit back in the day? Apparently, the new bosses are friends of those weirdos too. Saw some of the new crew sporting animal ears, hooves, fur, and even moving tails. Think the new bosses paid the Killies to take things a bit farther than Peppersnips.”

“Okayyy. That is not too bad. I just hope they just don’t expect me to join in. Don’t do silk sheet stuff as a policy. Nothing good ever happens to lower rank folks like us when cloves get hitched.”

Our conversation was interrupted when the door creaked open again to reveal two new faces. One was normal save the cat ears on his hat. No wait, those were coming out of his head. Guess Keith’s news was more accurate than I thought.

The other was a great deal more alarming in the fact that not only did they barely fit through the door, walked on all fours, and was even more cat like than the other one. It was even more alarming when they met me in the eye and began to speak.

“Grrreetings, I am Sheba, the new Fifth Undersecretary for the duration of the transitional government of Port Milano. This is my secretary, Phil. I was told you two are the highest-ranking members of the previous government in this office to not be arrrrrested. I hope you would be up for a meeting to discuss the future administration?”

Alright, so maybe Keith’s sources were underselling how animal-crazed the new crew was. If they are willing to go full quadruped for their jollies, then who knows how far they go. He should probably lay some ground rules.

“Sure thing Boss. Just a few things to know before we get started. People are open-minded so long as it doesn’t affect the larders. Try to keep things from getting too distracting and it will be smooth sailing. If you need to tie some knots, there is the Seaborne Naval Office on the seventh floor that is from the pre-space days that no one goes to. And if you must eat the staff, go for the Mail Department, it has the lowest skill requirement for training.”

The new boss gave me a confused look I hoped didn’t mean she didn’t understand these simple rules to keep an office running. It was always a bad sign when new bosses didn’t understand simple bureaucratic framework and necessities.

“Therrrre might be a bit of a misunderstanding here.”

-----

Even in the dystopian conditions of Battletech pirate havens, human adaptiblity, middle managment, and office gossip persist

 

[Yacovo]

In honor of the season, have a scary Omake

Omake: Dinos and B-Movies. It was eventually going to happen

THIS FALL PLANETARY EQUIVALENT

Backdrop of a commercial Jumpship

COMING STRAIGHT TO VHS 12 PRO

A large shadow looms in a misty corridor

THEY THOUGHT THEY ESCAPED…

Chris Slamfist: “How is it here!? It was supposed to be over!”

Huge purple mass shifting underneath a catwalk

Betty Dupa: “Where do we go?! The Drive is days from recharging!”

A hulking green stomach passes by as Betty hides in a locker

BUT IS NO ESCAPING…

Doctor Leibniz: “It has entered the Exoskeleton Armory!”

THE SQUEEZE!

Large robotic arms drag a fat bearded man off-screen

Jenkins Fadder: “NONONONO AHHHH!”

Cut to a dark loading bay shaking with larg footsteps with a xylophone playing at 0.25x speed

“I love you / You love me / We're a happy family /“

Hapless survivors running through a corridor cuts to a shot of screaming girl

Panna Koniec: “GOOOO!”

KILLING WITH KINDNESS 4: HAPPINESS OUT THE AIRLOCK

Disclaimer: Nodinosuarswereharmedinthemakingofthisfilm.DropDeadStudiosfollowsallethicsboardsguidlinesforthetreatmentofanimalsandassertsallcopyrightstotheBarneyIPuntilsomeoneintheInnerSpherecancomeandstopus.

 

[ShadowArxxy]

More Omake!

The design mimes at Periphery Studies have submitted another unsolicited WarShip design, one that the Navy has very reluctantly flagged for further attention because it's so insane it just might work. The Thunder Child-class "Extremely Armored Cruiser" is an almost comically undergunned heavy cruiser with armament on par with a mere destroyer. . . but it's also got the speed of a corvette and more armor than a battleship. The design notes indicate that it is designed to "aggressively taunt" the enemy while having the speed and protection to actually survive doing so.

However, you strongly suspect that the Naval staff actually sent this to your desk because the proposal is delivered in video format by the very enthusiastic mimes. The enemy forces in the video are represented by a pompously overdressed "stick in the mud" naval officer who clearly also represents Admiral Fisher, and you have to admit it's quite amusing to see the hero mimes holding Thunder Child models dancing around him and repeatedly making him pratfall as he tries to grab the models from them, then has literal steam shoot from his ears after comically failing to smash the super-durable models.

You also get the sense that there's an entire chorus of your Honored Ancestors enthusiastically cheering because it's a gloriously super-fast WarShip and they don't actually have to deal with any of the logistic headaches regarding a hyper-specialized, pseudo-capital unit so fast that most of your escorts can't actually maintain formation. In fact, you are struck by the thought that given your particular Honored Ancestors, this might be a chorus line rather than a chorus.

Annnnnyway. . . .

Thunder Child Extremely Armored Cruiser
Mass: 1,250,000 tons
Technology Base: Mixed (Advanced)
Introduced: 3145
Mass: 1,250,000
Battle Value: 416,204
Tech Rating/Availability: F/X-X-X-F
Cost: 14,128,480,000 C-bills

Fuel: 5,000 tons (12,500)
Safe Thrust: 5
Maximum Thrust: 8
Sail Integrity: 6
KF Drive Integrity: 25
Heat Sinks: 1711 (3422)
Structural Integrity: 180

Armor
    Nose: 1107
    Fore Sides: 909/909
    Aft Sides: 810/810
    Aft: 513

Cargo
    Bay 1:  Small Craft (4)         4 Doors  
    Bay 2:  Cargo (Liquid) (1001.0000000000001 tons)1 Door   
    Bay 3:  Cargo (4959.0 tons)     1 Door   

Ammunition:
    5,760 rounds of Hyper-Assault Gauss Rifle/40 ammunition (12 tons),
    5,760 rounds of LRM 20 (Clan) Artemis-capable ammunition (6 tons),
    1,920 rounds of Rotary AC/5 ammunition (6 tons)

Dropship Capacity: 4
Grav Decks: 3 (95 m, 250 m, 250 m)
Escape Pods: 30
Life Boats: 12
Crew:  81 officers, 220 enlisted/non-rated, 180 gunners, 20 bay personnel, 20 passengers       

Notes: Equipped with
    1 Naval Comm-Scanner Suite (Small)
    4,500 tons of lamellor ferro-carbide armor.

Weapons:                                            Capital Attack Values (Standard)
Arc (Heat)                                      Heat  SRV     MRV     LRV      ERV    Class      
Nose (1,040 Heat)
20 Naval Laser 35                               1040 70(700) 70(700) 70(700)   0(0)   Capital Laser
FRS/FLS (1,118 Heat)
4 Sub-Capital Laser (SCL/3)                     128  12(120) 12(120)  0(0)     0(0)   Sub-Capital Laser
4 Sub-Capital Laser (SCL/3)                     128  12(120) 12(120)  0(0)     0(0)   Sub-Capital Laser
20 HAG/40                                       160  64(640) 48(480) 48(480)   0(0)   AC         
    Hyper-Assault Gauss Rifle/40 Ammo (480 shots)
20 HAG/40                                       160  64(640) 48(480) 48(480)   0(0)   AC         
    Hyper-Assault Gauss Rifle/40 Ammo (480 shots)
20 LRM 20                                       120  24(240) 24(240) 24(240)   0(0)   LRM        
    LRM 20 (Clan) Artemis-capable Ammo (960 shots)
20 ER PPC                                       300  30(300) 30(300) 30(300)   0(0)   PPC        
10 ER Large Laser                               120  10(100) 10(100) 10(100) 10(100)  Laser      
2 Rotary AC/5                                    2   4(40)   4(40)    0(0)     0(0)   AC         
    Rotary AC/5 Ammo (320 shots)
RBS/LBS (1,118 Heat)
4 Sub-Capital Laser (SCL/3)                     128  12(120) 12(120)  0(0)     0(0)   Sub-Capital Laser
4 Sub-Capital Laser (SCL/3)                     128  12(120) 12(120)  0(0)     0(0)   Sub-Capital Laser
20 HAG/40                                       160  64(640) 48(480) 48(480)   0(0)   AC         
    Hyper-Assault Gauss Rifle/40 Ammo (480 shots)
20 HAG/40                                       160  64(640) 48(480) 48(480)   0(0)   AC         
    Hyper-Assault Gauss Rifle/40 Ammo (480 shots)
20 LRM 20                                       120  24(240) 24(240) 24(240)   0(0)   LRM        
    LRM 20 (Clan) Artemis-capable Ammo (960 shots)
20 ER PPC                                       300  30(300) 30(300) 30(300)   0(0)   PPC        
10 ER Large Laser                               120  10(100) 10(100) 10(100) 10(100)  Laser      
2 Rotary AC/5                                    2   4(40)   4(40)    0(0)     0(0)   AC         
    Rotary AC/5 Ammo (320 shots)
ARS/ALS (1,118 Heat)
4 Sub-Capital Laser (SCL/3)                     128  12(120) 12(120)  0(0)     0(0)   Sub-Capital Laser
4 Sub-Capital Laser (SCL/3)                     128  12(120) 12(120)  0(0)     0(0)   Sub-Capital Laser
20 HAG/40                                       160  64(640) 48(480) 48(480)   0(0)   AC         
    Hyper-Assault Gauss Rifle/40 Ammo (480 shots)
20 HAG/40                                       160  64(640) 48(480) 48(480)   0(0)   AC         
    Hyper-Assault Gauss Rifle/40 Ammo (480 shots)
20 LRM 20                                       120  24(240) 24(240) 24(240)   0(0)   LRM        
    LRM 20 (Clan) Artemis-capable Ammo (960 shots)
20 ER PPC                                       300  30(300) 30(300) 30(300)   0(0)   PPC        
10 ER Large Laser                               120  10(100) 10(100) 10(100) 10(100)  Laser      
2 Rotary AC/5                                    2   4(40)   4(40)    0(0)     0(0)   AC         
    Rotary AC/5 Ammo (320 shots)
Aft (1,040 Heat)
20 Naval Laser 35                               1040 70(700) 70(700) 70(700)   0(0)   Capital Laser

 

[ShadowArxxy]

Omake: Special Detective Squad

"We succeeded in tracing all the caches, Your Highness, but that was a ridiculously excessive amount of work." reports a decidedly bedraggled-looking Jane. "The people who were recruited to set up these caches were like, ridiculously paranoid old fossils. Most of them didn't just keep their records offline, they kept them ON PAPER. Where did you even FIND these people!??!?!"

Sergeant Major Ngo smirks and whistles innocently, then demonstrates herself to be smugly immune to Jane's glare.

"Two-thirds of them wouldn't even accept our credentials, and made us go through all sorts of crazy shit to prove ourselves. One person even quoted that stupid line out of the stupid Matrix about not truly knowing someone until you fight them!"

Michelle grins and pats Jane on the head. "Don't mind her, she's just grumpy because she got her ass totally kicked by a 76-year-old Vietnamese lady who looked like she might blow over in a stiff breeze."

"You're the one who took a literal boot to the head." retorts Jane.