Original chapter 3
MarkWarrior
Well-known member
Alternate beginnings 3
Unknown world, 3049
"This is Star Colonel Marthe Pryde of the Jade Falcon Clan, who do you bid for the defense of this world?" A voice broke into my dreams as I stumbled awake.
"Any chance you can repeat that?" I asked after I woke myself up with my last cup of coffee. "I'm afraid you caught me while I was asleep. Thirty-six hour days are killer on a sleep cycle." I yawned.
"This is Star Colonel Marthe Pryde of the Jade Falcon Clan, who do you bid for the defense of this world?"
I started awake as the realization hit me. Even if they were Clanners, real, live people would be here, and soon.
"This is Mark Hull, I bid myself and my Warhammer to defend this world," I finally replied, leaving my cabin and clearing off the new vines that had grown onto the mech while I was in stasis.
The modified 'mech struggled to start at first, the years having been somewhat unkind to it as the weather had beaten it down, but in the end, the fusion engine rumbled to life as I stripped down to my shorts and hooked the neurohelmet and cooling vest into the bipedal war machine.
–
–
A Summoner stepped out of the distant trees, my eyes telling me what 'mech I was facing even if the Warhammer did not.
"This is going to go poorly," I sighed as Ia pair of lasers narrowly missed, carving burn marks into the my overgrown fields and setting small fires among the dried out corn.
With a twist, I snapped off a PPC bolt, the shot going wide and tearing a tree in half as a slightly smaller pair of beams melted off armor, a small group of missiles detonating against my armor.
I moved closer, my SRMs getting plucked from the sky as I alternated fire with my PPCs, the lack of practice obvious in my lack of accuracy.
I finally reached short range, and forgoing any subtlety, I slammed the throttle down, accelerating from my moderate pace to max in a few short seconds, and then tucking down, I slammed my 'mech's right shoulder into the Summoner.
As the Clan 'mech rocked back, I slapped the button that was carefully labeled "do not touch!", all of my weapons carving away armor and revealing the reactor on the other 'mech before a handful of my double heat sinks failed, my mech shutting down from the excess heat as sweat dripped off my bare torso.
"You fight well for a freebirth," Marthe said as she kicked over my unresponsive 'Hammer and pointed her lasers at my cockpit. "I hereby claim you as my bondsman, Freebirth Hull. Surrender your 'mech and this world to us."
"Powering down now," I replied, shutting down the Warhammer before popping the hatch, the cool air washing over me as I pulled a fresh pair of jeans and flannel from my footlocker and onto my body.
"Well," I sighed and pulled out a cigar I had held onto from the Manassas. "Guess this is as good a time as any."
Lighting the cigar, I puffed on it as a handful of dropships began their descent while a pair of Elementals climbed up onto my 'Hammer.
"Come with us, Bondsman," one of them spat.
"One minute," I replied. "I'm just enjoying my last moment of freedom."
After I finished my cigar, the Elementals escorted me back to the Last of Us while a salvage team began working over my 'mech.
"This dropship is ancient," A woman in typical mechwarrior gear said as I was shoved aboard. "As is the signal that we received when we arrived in this system."
She turned to face me. "You are clearly a survivor from the SLS Manassas. The graves nearby indicate that you are the last to remain. So tell me, relic of the past. How have you survived where others did not?"
Unknown world, 3049
"This is Star Colonel Marthe Pryde of the Jade Falcon Clan, who do you bid for the defense of this world?" A voice broke into my dreams as I stumbled awake.
"Any chance you can repeat that?" I asked after I woke myself up with my last cup of coffee. "I'm afraid you caught me while I was asleep. Thirty-six hour days are killer on a sleep cycle." I yawned.
"This is Star Colonel Marthe Pryde of the Jade Falcon Clan, who do you bid for the defense of this world?"
I started awake as the realization hit me. Even if they were Clanners, real, live people would be here, and soon.
"This is Mark Hull, I bid myself and my Warhammer to defend this world," I finally replied, leaving my cabin and clearing off the new vines that had grown onto the mech while I was in stasis.
The modified 'mech struggled to start at first, the years having been somewhat unkind to it as the weather had beaten it down, but in the end, the fusion engine rumbled to life as I stripped down to my shorts and hooked the neurohelmet and cooling vest into the bipedal war machine.
–
–
A Summoner stepped out of the distant trees, my eyes telling me what 'mech I was facing even if the Warhammer did not.
"This is going to go poorly," I sighed as Ia pair of lasers narrowly missed, carving burn marks into the my overgrown fields and setting small fires among the dried out corn.
With a twist, I snapped off a PPC bolt, the shot going wide and tearing a tree in half as a slightly smaller pair of beams melted off armor, a small group of missiles detonating against my armor.
I moved closer, my SRMs getting plucked from the sky as I alternated fire with my PPCs, the lack of practice obvious in my lack of accuracy.
I finally reached short range, and forgoing any subtlety, I slammed the throttle down, accelerating from my moderate pace to max in a few short seconds, and then tucking down, I slammed my 'mech's right shoulder into the Summoner.
As the Clan 'mech rocked back, I slapped the button that was carefully labeled "do not touch!", all of my weapons carving away armor and revealing the reactor on the other 'mech before a handful of my double heat sinks failed, my mech shutting down from the excess heat as sweat dripped off my bare torso.
"You fight well for a freebirth," Marthe said as she kicked over my unresponsive 'Hammer and pointed her lasers at my cockpit. "I hereby claim you as my bondsman, Freebirth Hull. Surrender your 'mech and this world to us."
"Powering down now," I replied, shutting down the Warhammer before popping the hatch, the cool air washing over me as I pulled a fresh pair of jeans and flannel from my footlocker and onto my body.
"Well," I sighed and pulled out a cigar I had held onto from the Manassas. "Guess this is as good a time as any."
Lighting the cigar, I puffed on it as a handful of dropships began their descent while a pair of Elementals climbed up onto my 'Hammer.
"Come with us, Bondsman," one of them spat.
"One minute," I replied. "I'm just enjoying my last moment of freedom."
After I finished my cigar, the Elementals escorted me back to the Last of Us while a salvage team began working over my 'mech.
"This dropship is ancient," A woman in typical mechwarrior gear said as I was shoved aboard. "As is the signal that we received when we arrived in this system."
She turned to face me. "You are clearly a survivor from the SLS Manassas. The graves nearby indicate that you are the last to remain. So tell me, relic of the past. How have you survived where others did not?"