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Defiance Industries posted:His youngest sister likes him, and his brother Peter didn't hate him, he just didn't enjoy Victor's company at all. Katherine hated him and Arthur thought he was a total dumbshit. Sure Yvonne likes him, but what kind of character reference is someone who gets scared almost as soon as big bro is gone and hands over the federated suns to Katrina Goddamned Steiner because people are saying mean things about her and she's afraid she'll screw up?  And yeah, it is revealing that the most eligible bachelor in the inner sphere could never do any better than "A Kurita who will almost never have to be in the same room as him personally" and "Sun-Tzu Liao's Sloppy Seconds". I mean, does he not shower or something? e: also the dude's a loving dwarf, like 5'3 or something absurd
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Mar 25, 2011 21:59
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Mukaikubo posted:And yeah, it is revealing that the most eligible bachelor in the inner sphere could never do any better than "A Kurita who will almost never have to be in the same room as him personally" and "Sun-Tzu Liao's Sloppy Seconds". I mean, does he not shower or something? He perhaps could have done better but he had to have his goony obsession with Omi because she was the one woman he couldn't have And maybe the height combined with the poor hygiene, I don't know Basically gently caress Victor
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Mar 25, 2011 22:02
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That whole goddamn family was a mess. Hanse and Melissa may have been good at leading nations but holy gently caress they were apparently terrible parents. Out of the entire Steiner-Davion family, Peter's probably the one who had it together the most, which isn't saying much. When he became Archon he was like "Well, I don't have a ton of popular support, so I should take people that are considered heroes and make them my advisors, so that the people will associate them with me and then they'll like me, too." You know, REALLY basic poo poo that nobody else thought of. As opposed to Victor, whose principal advisor was his buddy from the 10th Lyran Guard and Katherine, who appointed her college buddy to command the Donegal Guards. And then when the Jihad rolled around he showed how hard he was. The second scenario from JTP: Tharkad is one of my favorites of all time. Peter's jury-rigged Fafnir may not have a lot of staying power but when it cuts loose it hits like a freight train full of bulldozers. Defiance Industries fucked around with this message at 22:05 on Mar 25, 2011 |
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Mar 25, 2011 22:03
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Defiance Industries posted:That whole goddamn family was a mess. Hanse and Melissa may have been good at leading nations but holy gently caress they were apparently terrible parents. Counterpoint: He willingly gave power to Adam Steiner not once but twice. Some things, I can never forgive. 
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Mar 25, 2011 22:06
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We know from stuff in MW:DA that the second time, after the liberation of Tharkad, was the work of the Brotherhood of Cincinattus and not actually Peter's doing. Most likely Peter's original intention was to have Adamn be Regent for his son, Hanse Steiner-Davion. You can imagine how the idea of having an Archon named "Hanse Steiner-Davion" would set off a radical Lyran nationalist group. He probably would have gone to Caesar first, since Caesar was his primary political advisor, but the WoB took him out because they knew he was competent enough to actually hold the Commonwealth together.
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Mar 25, 2011 22:10
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Mukaikubo posted:Counterpoint: He willingly gave power to Adam Steiner not once but twice. You have the ability to change this. You can end the existence of Adam Steiner right now. Open fire on your lancemates. You know deep down that this must be done.
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Mar 25, 2011 22:12
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Look, Adamn's parents are going to die on this rock. Caesar can fix him if given the chance. Caesar Steiner can fix ANYTHING. And that would eliminate the possibility that Adamn's granddaughter loses a third of the Commonwealth like she actually did.
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Mar 25, 2011 22:13
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Mukaikubo posted:Counterpoint: He willingly gave power to Adam Steiner not once but twice. Adam Steiner was, is, and will be a hero of the Inner Sphere and dare I say it human kind. If he hadn't told me about information and its ammunition-like qualities I wouldn't be posting in this thread today - maybe because I never would've developed any interest in Battletech, maybe because I would be dead without his steely military wisdom. Long story short gently caress the haters pilot axe-bots every day.
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Mar 25, 2011 22:24
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^^^^ Mukaikubo posted:Especially since Myndo Waterly instantly and completely accepted this as the clearly most likely situation. I like to think of it as being pretty much the same thing as Jesus rolling past some Ayatollahs and being all "so you were kind of right... I guess". Arquinsiel fucked around with this message at 22:37 on Mar 25, 2011 |
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Mar 25, 2011 22:30
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I just fooled around in megamek, Banshee 3-S versus Battle Cobra. I picked the one with loads of pulses. I played suboptimally for both in terms of cover perhaps, but made sure the clanner didn't aim for the back. The Banshee is slow. loving slow. When overheating he can move like 1 square but even though he lumbered around a lot and hit almost nothing with his weapons he still defated the BC. Barely. I'm going to play a game of Executioner vs Assault Lance.
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Mar 25, 2011 22:32
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PoptartsNinja posted:Contest! Behold the glory that can only be described as Ice Slide Bullet Ballet. I believe it covers pretty much all the gauntlets thrown down. The youtube police may (quite rightly) remove the audio, which would be tragic. Welp, dunno about you guys but I'm looking forwards to bonus content mission 4.  Conclusions: Being able to move so fast the camera breaks is annoying, the Wolverine is a truly terrible 'Mech to play as, and the machine gun is possibly the worst weapon in the whole game for killing enemy 'Mechs (It is however perfect for figure skating). Also, I'm putting far too much effort into this.
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Mar 25, 2011 23:13
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Mastigophoran posted:Well, it took most of the day to get this video done... (also it is two runs spliced together) This is amazing. Well done. Edit: I like to think the clanner you play is just really, really bad at bidding. "I bid my command star for this hazardous, pinpoint assault." "Well I bid myself! In a Wolverene! With only a machinegun! With no neurohelmet!" raverrn fucked around with this message at 23:33 on Mar 25, 2011 |
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Mar 25, 2011 23:21
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That was amazing (I particularly enjoyed watching you let those turrets kill that Wolverine for you), bravo! You've truly earned your prize! Let me know which one you'd like, and I'll fill you in on the details of how to use it. PoptartsNinja fucked around with this message at 23:59 on Mar 25, 2011 |
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Mar 25, 2011 23:28
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Mukaikubo posted:Sure Yvonne likes him, but what kind of character reference is someone who gets scared almost as soon as big bro is gone and hands over the federated suns to Katrina Goddamned Steiner because people are saying mean things about her and she's afraid she'll screw up? It's made worse by her handing it over to Katherine on the basis of false polls that she manipulated. Also even if he is 5'3" I don't think we need to drag height into how much of a fuckup Victor is. Then again maybe I'm biased because I'm only 2 inches away from being that short. EDIT: Though really I agree the biggest problem probably is that Hanse and Melissa really were pretty bad parents when your best candidate is Peter and the rest are incompetent, emotionally distraught, power-mad, or possibly Devlin Stone Angry_Ed fucked around with this message at 23:37 on Mar 25, 2011 |
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Mar 25, 2011 23:34
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Mastigophoran posted:Well, it took most of the day to get this video done... (also it is two runs spliced together) A thing of beauty, indeed.
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Mar 25, 2011 23:38
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Mastigophoran posted:Well, it took most of the day to get this video done... (also it is two runs spliced together) Truly, one of the finest giant-robot ice ballets I've seen all year. 
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Mar 25, 2011 23:43
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Somebody get the name of that ballerina to the New Avalon Ballet team. One of the finest Mech-ballet performances I've seen all year, if not ever.
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Mar 26, 2011 00:00
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Bonus Update 4 You know what's like mission 2, but with a 30 second timer? Let's Play Battletech: Mission 4! Contest! I'm pretty sure this one's impossible in the Genesis version, but may be doable on the SNES version: I would like to see someone successfully run the bomb from one of the other bomb locations, or show everyone that it is indeed impossible. The first person who posts a video will get to pick from one of several prizes: FA) their vote counts for 5 votes next time FB) After turn five, you may make 3 artillery strikes against non-dropship non-player occupied hexes of your choice. The Artillery does scatter slightly, and will arrive one turn after you declare a target hex. FC) Reinforcements! On turn 10, you enter the map as a 2nd Donegal Guards Locust! You do not count towards survival, and you will most likely die a horribly messy death, but you may distract the Clanners for a turn or two.
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Mar 26, 2011 00:27
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The wall thing indeed makes no sense. Two words: Jump Jets.
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Mar 26, 2011 00:50
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Wait what?. How do you get promoted from a Star Colonel back to a Star Commander? Did they ever try to make sense when they made that game?
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Mar 26, 2011 00:51
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KnoxZone posted:Wait what?. How do you get promoted from a Star Colonel back to a Star Commander? Did they ever try to make sense when they made that game? Come to think of it: Fanfiction Challenge: (same rewards as above). Explain (in-character) why using the Fuel-Air Bomb as ordered resulted in our nameless (you can name him or her) 'Mechwarrior got a two-'level' demotion. Must be at least 500 words and follow the Clan language rules. It also must explain why, if the player is unable to deploy the bomb in time, it simply detonates and kills our nameless 'Mechwarrior. This will be graded on awesomeness, not how soon I get it. PoptartsNinja fucked around with this message at 01:21 on Mar 26, 2011 |
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Mar 26, 2011 00:56
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KnoxZone posted:Wait what?. How do you get promoted from a Star Colonel back to a Star Commander? Did they ever try to make sense when they made that game? The people who made the game clearly assumed the only way to become Khan was exactly like Phelan did it.
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Mar 26, 2011 00:58
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KnoxZone posted:Wait what?. How do you get promoted from a Star Colonel back to a Star Commander? Did they ever try to make sense when they made that game? Perhaps they thought the phrase "with Bloodname" carries more prestige. Having played MW 2:GBL, I was under the impression that attaining a Bloodname involved fighting for a place in the trial to fight for a Bloodname slot, should one be open. They aren't handed out just like that. Edit: Here's the proper article: http://www.sarna.net/wiki/Trial_of_Bloodright landcollector fucked around with this message at 01:25 on Mar 26, 2011 |
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Mar 26, 2011 00:59
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landcollector posted:Perhaps they thought the phrase "with Bloodname" carries more prestige. Having played MW 2:GBL, I was under the impression that attaining a Bloodname involved fighting for a place in the trial to fight for a Bloodname slot, should one be open. They aren't handed out just like that. This is true, for the purposes of sanity we'll just assume the bloodname was earned off screen and Ward was merely commenting on it.
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Mar 26, 2011 01:10
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PoptartsNinja posted:Come to think of it: Do you want that in a PM, or in the thread?
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Mar 26, 2011 01:23
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Mastigophoran posted:Behold the glory that can only be described as Ice Slide Bullet Ballet. I believe it covers pretty much all the gauntlets thrown down. This is beautiful indeed. On topic, this thread is going interesting places. My entire knowledge of mechwarrior canon before this came from an old mac version of MW2's text dumps and campaign, so I knew about the old clan invasion, the battle of Tukayid, and the Refusal war. All of these Mary Sues are sort of making my head spin, and yet PTN seems to be steering us well clear of their ilk, so ignorance, I guess, is bliss. The real irony is that while you face a REDACTED in the Mechwarrior 2 campaign, engine limitations make it a fairly worthless foe. I've yet to load any of them up in Megamek, as having not played tabletop, I really don't get what the fuss is about, mechanics wise. As far as combat goes, good luck out there. Given this unit's experience fighting house Kurita, I'm sure they're well within their rights to know how to abuse honor duals to play for time without being too obvious about it. The real question is, would they know just how horribly outmatched they are? I'm sure reports of the clan invasion have been coming in for a while now.
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Mar 26, 2011 01:30
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PoptartsNinja posted:Come to think of it: Fresh off another successful solo operation, Star Colonel Dwigt put on his ceremonial Dwigt had been the talk of Clan Wolf for some time, accomplishing feats of solo combat previously thought impossible, thanks to a piloting technique that turned damage from incoming fire in to engine heat somehow. From the moment he single-handedly destroyed an irreplaceable miracle factory that produced one fully-functional, combat-ready BattleMech every 20 seconds, all eyes were on him, and as a result, he had been awarded a promotion after every combat engagement. The only way his rise could be more sudden and ridiculous was if he was born of two Inner Sphere parents and happened to be taken in by the one Clan who could give him a Bloodname he coincidentally happened to have claim to, and then be taken under the wing of the ilKhan. Peering through the open mouth of his wolf mask, Dwigt opened the door to Galaxy Commander Ward's office as ordered, to report on the Fuel-Air bombing of a Draconis Combine DropShip facility. Ward looked up from the noteputer on his desk with a scowl on his face. All objectives had been completed, yet his expression did not change. Dwigt tried not to think too hard about it; he always looked upset due to the fact that he was one of the few Trueborn who had not had their male pattern baldness corrected. "I understand the facility has been taken out, Dwigt." Galaxy Commander Ward stated. "Excellent work." "I am sure my performance will show on my codex, Galaxy Commander," Dwigt nodded, his voice slightly muffled through the wolf helmet. "You may call me Colonel." Galaxy Commander Ward said. Dwigt tipped his head to the side slightly, confused. "My first name is Colonel. Galaxy Commander Colonel Ward." Dwigt took in a breath. For a Bloodnamed individual to allow someone to address them by their first name and not their rank and Bloodname was a great honor. Galaxy Commander Colonel Ward continued, "You understand, I am speaking to you now not as your commander, but of the business of our Bloodhouse, Ward. As you may know, the leader of our Bloodhouse, Galaxy Commander Catamaran Ward, has taken quite a liking to you. So much so that she was concerned with your ability to complete the mission and took to combat in her Warhawk to assist you." "Galaxy Commander, I did not see our House Leader anywhere on the field of battle. I was locked in solo combat the entire duration of combat. You are going to ask me to seek her out, quiaff?" Dwigt protested, shifting slightly as the skin-tight mech shorts rode up into his business. "Neg, Star Colonel. When your communication equipment was destroyed by the fortieth Thunder mine you stepped on, she attempted to track you down using her MagRes scanners, claiming that you would be unable to control the detonation of the bomb you were tasked to deliver. House Leader Ward refused my advice to pull back." The Galaxy Commander sighed, "As a result, Galaxy Commander Catamaran Ward was killed when you detonated the Fuel-Air Bomb." Dwigt attempted to protest, but Galaxy Commander Ward cut him off. "As you did not attempt to use the emergency radio in your cockpit following the destruction of your primary communications equipment, I am demoting you to the rank of Star Commander, Dwigt." Dwigt slammed both palms down on Galaxy Commander Ward's desk and growled at him through the wolf mask he wore. "I will see you in a Circle of Equals, Galaxy Commander! Our Bloodhouse Leader made her own decisions; her death was of her own doing!" Galaxy Commander Colonel Ward smiled a little bit, or maybe his face just started to crack open. "On the other hand, Dwigt... now that Catamaran is dead, I happen to be the leader of Bloodhouse Ward, and there just so happens to be a Bloodright open. It would look quite inappropriate if I did not punish you for her death, quiaff?" "Aff..." Dwigt agreed warily. "And yet, since I am the new leader of our Bloodhouse and I have you to thank... how does 'Star Commander Dwigt Ward' sound to you?" Defiance Industries fucked around with this message at 01:48 on Mar 26, 2011 |
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Mar 26, 2011 01:33
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PoptartsNinja posted:Come to think of it: What can a loyal star colonel do when his Khan orders him to break zellbrigen so flagrantly? There is a conflict between duty to my Khan and to my own sense of honor- but in the end, duty won out. If I was not one for whom duty was superior to honor, I have no doubt that I would not have been approached. Our forces had bogged down fighting on this pestilential world. Clearly, if some rash action were not taken, we would have fallen behind the other galaxies. Just as clearly, there was no honorable yet sufficiently rash action available; our enemies had entrenched well, with nauseatingly well sited and well layered static defenses. A full cluster of our forces could have battered themselves senseless on those walls to no effect; and some of the bolder star captains had tried. One option remained. Where a large force could not break through the defenses, a lone Mech stood a chance to slip between the cracks and wreak havoc on the exposed innards. That was already an imperfectly honorable assignment, but what made it worse was the choice of weapon chosen to cripple enemy defenses. Second only to nuclear and chemical weapons, the fuel air bomb was a weapon with a feared and reviled history stretching back to the earliest days of spaceflight since before even the time of honored Kerensky. With its wide area of effect, it was impossible to select an individual target; noncombatants not bid into the defenses could easily be gruesomely killed. It was the weapon of a surat. When I was chosen by my Khan to carry it, I was physically nauseous. Yet I knew, and could accept, the political sense of the decision. I, as the only Warden who held the rank of star colonel or higher, was a threat should circumstances change. I had to be neutralized in some way, and so: I would be chosen by a Khan whose request I could and would not deny to carry out an intensely disgraceful act. If I failed, I would be dead. If I succeeded, he would know what I had done, and my shame would remove any threat I may pose. Elegant, if redolent of the disgraceful backbiting of barbarians and pirates. I myself chose to set the timer on the fuel air bomb as a mark of contempt for this mission. One mech, and all the time I needed, I considered far too much firepower to destroy an entire firebase. I thus gave myself a time limit, and bid away my own life should I fail to complete my mission in a time some considered foolishly aggressive. I had to claw back whatever honor I could from this wretched ball of mud. Of the mission itself, there is little to say. No freeborn can match me in single combat, even when aided by the fiendishly clever defenses these Inner Sphere sorts delight in concocting. One after another, I reduced their mechs to charred metal, not even bothering to issue the individual units thrown in my path formal batchalls. That would waste time. We are meant to not waste time- are we not? And so I did not. The sheer number of enemies told on my mech, though I fought doggedly on. I poured every lest dreg of my skill into a mission that would be a disgrace to me, a violation of all I held dear, and the end of any hope I might have to command a galaxy someday- or even to become Khan myself. Despite this, I fought no less strongly, because my honor was to obey. That, I feel, is what the younger crusaders do not and never will understand- why we must hold so strictly to our duty no less than our honor. Or perhaps I am becoming old, and feebleminded in my age. I wonder if they will let someone so disgraced train snot nosed sibkin? Ah yes, the bomb. I reached the point I had identified as the optimal placement for the filthy weapon, and deployed it as planned. The firebase was destroyed. It was a great victory for our people and my clan. And when I emerged from the charred, smoking wreckage of the fortification that had held our warriors at bay for so long... I was hauled in front of a clan council to answer for my crimes. Stripped almost completely of my rank, I did not even bother demanding a trial of refusal- my revenge would come in the trial for a bloodname that happened soon after. To have a disgraced, old mechwarrior- and a warden, no less- grab a precious bloodname over so many ristars favored by the rest of the hierarchy dismayed many, I feel. To my mind, it was simply the just reward for following my orders.
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Mar 26, 2011 01:36
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Gay Abortions posted:Actually, if I can sneak in at the last second, I'll take this bet. Missed it the first time it came up. Awright, you're on! If not one IS mech is standing by round 20, you lose. Please confirm your acceptance by sending a message.
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Mar 26, 2011 01:37
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Mukaikubo posted: That was beautiful.
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Mar 26, 2011 01:45
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PoptartsNinja posted:EC) A 2nd Donegal Guards Aerospace Fighter strafes the Clan 'Mech of your choice (warning: Gamma Star has a defense against this). Also;  The marauder pips the ????? for the fastest 'Mech you *cheat* to play as. I have no idea what planet they were on when they were deciding that the slowest 'Mech should be the fastest... It also pips the Stormcrow for having the silliest legs.
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Mar 26, 2011 02:26
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Angry_Ed posted:EDIT: Though really I agree the biggest problem probably is that Hanse and Melissa really were pretty bad parents when your best candidate is Peter and the rest are incompetent, emotionally distraught, power-mad, or possibly Devlin Stone No way; Victor would have recognized him. (Also, Victor going out like a bitch via heart attack is where I said gently caress it and stopped reading Dark Age poo poo. I don't loving care if he was fighting off assassins at the time, you don't kill of Victor that way  )
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Mar 26, 2011 02:30
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Yeah, Victor should die as he lived: flailing wildly while attempting to avoid another total failure. I'm thinking he should have fallen down the stairs on to a hand grenade which explodes inside his rectal cavity. Dying of poison isn't a grand enough failure. Oh, and the hand grenade should touch off a gas pipeline that destroys an orphanage because Victor ruins everything.
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Mar 26, 2011 02:35
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KaoliniteMilkshake posted:The real irony is that while you face a REDACTED in the Mechwarrior 2 campaign, engine limitations make it a fairly worthless foe. I've yet to load any of them up in Megamek, as having not played tabletop, I really don't get what the fuss is about, mechanics wise. Ahahahahahaha oh you do not understand how absolutely horrifying REDACTED are in the hands of a good player. Or even a competent player. Also - gently caress Victor Steiner-Davion. I can't even begin to put into words my dislike for him. And I'm a drat Davion loyalist.
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Mar 26, 2011 02:37
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If the winner of the next contests are going to choose artillery strikes, that'd probably be best. Drag the Star into an urban killbox, then slam them with artillery. You're generally heavier than them, you should be able to take some danger close pounding. Just get them somewhere where they can't maneuver very well and keep them there. Similarly the Clan have the least advantage in fairly close, assuming they're using the classic 3050 mechs, since those tended to be fast and weakly armored. Alternatively, the classics tended to be undersupplied with ammunition, so it might be worth it trying to fight at maximum range for a bit, shooting as little as possible, hoping to run them out of ammunition (many of the early designs were designed for duels rather than knock-down drag-out battle) As a final alternative, just drop all the artillery on Gamma Star and hope the dropship crews had the strength of mind to activate their weapons systems (and that they can fire on targets while grounded). Gamma are all nicely lined up in the frontal firing arc, and G2/G3/G4 are in the sweet spot where both wing and the nose arc can fire into them IIRC. (yeah, it's not going to end well if it can only take 80 damage, don't take that as a fully serious suggestion.)
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Mar 26, 2011 02:57
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MJ12 posted:If the winner of the next contests are going to choose artillery strikes, that'd probably be best. Drag the Star into an urban killbox, then slam them with artillery. You're generally heavier than them, you should be able to take some danger close pounding. Just get them somewhere where they can't maneuver very well and keep them there. I am seriously considering trying to obliterate G5 if I win and take arty. I am still torn, though, because that would be a Dick Move since zellbrigen would be thoroughly shattered and all hell would break out.
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Mar 26, 2011 03:06
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Mukaikubo posted:I am seriously considering trying to obliterate G5 if I win and take arty. I am still torn, though, because that would be a Dick Move since zellbrigen would be thoroughly shattered and all hell would break out. Is it actually breaking zellbrigen though? I mean it's kind of a third party to the fight, and possibly not under the lance's direct control. Wouldn't it just open up the artillery to reprisal? In any case I guess it isn't the letter of the law, but what the clan fighters feel like doing in either case.
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Mar 26, 2011 03:18
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cafel posted:Is it actually breaking zellbrigen though? I mean it's kind of a third party to the fight, and possibly not under the lance's direct control. Wouldn't it just open up the artillery to reprisal? In any case I guess it isn't the letter of the law, but what the clan fighters feel like doing in either case. Attacking Charlie Star will bring it in to combat. Makes poo poo get crazy.
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Mar 26, 2011 03:19
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Mukaikubo posted:I am seriously considering trying to obliterate G5 if I win and take arty. I am still torn, though, because that would be a Dick Move since zellbrigen would be thoroughly shattered and all hell would break out. "Losing is fun."  Seek wisdom from Dwarf Fortress. There's a greater than even chance you're all going to die anyway; do it on your own terms, and deny the Clanners their glory.
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Mar 26, 2011 03:20
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Since we seem to be putting it all out here... My fanfic explaining why a man goes from Star Colonel to Star Captain With Bloodname. Presented entirely from the prespective of Galaxy Commander Vladimir Ward. Enjoy. Star Colonel Vladimir Ward found himself quite amused. He let out a chuckle, his mind whirling through the permutations of how the events he had set in motion were going to play out. He found the prospects to be delicious, like a hard-earned victory, or the sweat on the brow of a female MechWarrior during a fast, intense coupling, or even the rare occasional indulgence of a captured spoil from the commissaries or offices of the pathetic freeborn soldiers of the Draconis Combine. His chuckle turned into a full-bore, raucous laugh, echoing through the cockpit of his Timber Wolf, and lasted long enough for it to wind down to a slow chuckle as he realized that it might be embarrassing to be overseen laughing so. He looked around in a rare moment of self-consciousness, but a glance above his head at his communications display reassured him that he had not been transmitting. Through the left and right sides of the cockpit windows he glanced into those of his fellow MechWarriors; noting that neither of them seemed to be looking at him; they had not seen his face, had not seen his momentary lack of control. That was good. Such a lapse was unbecoming a Bloodnamed Star Colonel, and it might lead his underlings to question his right to command. While he was quite confident that he would emerge victorious, any challenges to his command could prove costly. The barbarians of the Inner Sphere practiced a form of total warfare that was quite taxing his logistical structure, and he needed every 'Mech under his command, every MechWarrior, in the field, following his orders. It was bad enough dealing with the one who challenged him all the time and did follow his orders. Him. MechWarrior Martin. Vlad squeezed the control grips under his hands tightly just thinking the insufferable name that belonged to the insufferable man. He was quite possibly more annoying than Phelan, but at least Phelan seemed to be merely mortal like every other man Vlad knew. However, this time, he was certain that Martin had met his match. If he had known how much of an irritation and a disruptive element he would be, Vlad would never have accepted him under his command. The man showed no fear, but it went beyond mere fearlessness. He explicitly demanded to receive the hardest, most impossible missions Vlad could assign to him, such that the greater would be his glory. Ward suspected that the Abtakha man owed his origins to the clan Steel Viper, though he had heard rumors that Star Colonel Martin – and just thinking of the man's rank sent a wave of cold disgust through the FreeBorn MechWarrior – was freeborn, even of Spheroid origin. Whatever his origins, he was not Bondsman to any MechWarrior that Vlad had met. He proudly proclaimed that he was a Wolf, and would bring victory and glory to the Clan. That, at least, Vladimir could not deny, though it disgusted him to admit that Martin might possibly be the best – or luckiest - MechWarrior alive. “Star Colonel, is our vigil necessary? Star Colonel Martin has won the bid and shall destroy the complex,” he heard ring in his ear. It brought a snarl to his face, to hear such confidence in the man uttered by the MechWarrior to his left, Zenith. He looked over, into the cockpit of her Mad Dog. She had a soft, pleasant face that was quite attractive; it seemed not the face of a MechWarrior, nor had the expressions on that face seemed befitting to one when he had coupled with her, hard and fast, but he knew she was well-proven and capable. Underestimating her would be a mistake, and alienating a MechWarrior so close to his side would be costly. Still, it felt almost like a betrayal, her expression of a lack of confidence in his plans, even if they were not quite stated. Such a question demanded a response, but not as harsh of a chastisement as he would like to deliver. “MechWarrior Zenith,” he began, stating her full rank and title to place extra emphasis on the disparity in rank between them, “while Martin has demonstrated himself... Quite capable in the past, he has bid himself recklessly below cutdown. Even a MechWarrior of his skill will be powless against the numerous forces the freebirths will allot to guard a DropShip production facility, quiaff?” Placing the burden on her to confirm or deny his words would put her in the place to choose between her loyalty to her command-tested Star Colonel, or the man who was Star Colonel in title only, without the warriors to back up the title. “... Aff,” she responded, after a long, tense moment. “Such a bid would be.... Unwise.” “Of course it is. You would not bid your sole 'mech against the forces we are to deal with, quineg?” “Neg,” she responded, more quickly, and Ward nodded. “Neither did I. My bid was myself and my command star – you and our three fellows. If, as I expect, Martin fails in his bid to destroy the facility, we shall not fail where he has – quiaff?” “Aff!” Her voice was absolutely full of conviction, and rightly it should be. Between them, his Command Lance weighed in at three-hundred and seventy-five tons, worth as many as five of the lone Timber Wolf that Martin was piloting. “Star Colonel, I have one further query.” Though his patience grew thin, Vlad refused to show it. “Speak. Quickly,” he demanded, and received compliance. “As a condition of his winning bid, you promised Martin the right to compete for a Bloodname, quiaff?” “Aff,” he gruffly confirmed, speaking no more. It was a sore topic. He had succeeded in compelling the valorous MechWarrior to bid his customary bid of only himself by obliquely challenging Martin's courage, but in the heat of the bidding process Martin had countered. While he was wise to not demand (yet again) for a promotion in exchange for an impossible victory, the right to compete for a Bloodname had been exacted from Ward instead. Still, Vladimir was unworried, even as the report of weapons fire echoed from the jungle far to the north of their current position. Soon enough it would be silenced again, and the DropShip in orbit would report that Star Colonel Martin had fallen in combat amidst heavy fire, dispatching his foes left and right. Vlad could accept a hero's death for the man, watch his Giftake being extracted, all the while glad he would not have to deal with him again. Such fighting ferocity – or even luck, if such a trait was in fact genetic - could only strengthen his Clan, when tempered with the patience and cunning of a Wolf. After all, was not the strongest steel a poor choice for a blade, but the strongest steel reinforced with steel which could flex the proper way to build a dagger, or a sword? And, if the fool was following the plan as outlined, he would die by his own lack of foresight if not by his enemies' hands. He had vowed to complete the mission the infiltrators had failed to do, which meant he would have to avenge their deaths by reassembling the scattered pieces of the fuel-air explosive they had brought to blast down the metal wall preventing his Timber Wolf from accessing the facility. Unfortunately for Martin, the ammunition handling system in his Timber Wolf's thunder mine bay was... Not sophisticated. The mine would be armed the instant it was reassembled, the Timber Wolf was not a fast 'mech, and the facilities which could hold the pieces of the mines were scattered. Three of them, his scouts had reported, were too far from the gate to allow Martin to drop the mine before they went off. He was being dropped very near to the site which was near to the gate, and knowing the hot-headed, forward-thinking MechWarrior, would recover that part first. No, he would not have to worry about Martin earning a Bloodname. What he did need to concern himself with was the imminent mission he and his Star were preparing for. Vlad clenched his hands together, nodding to himself. “Ready check,” he ordered, and listened to the members of his Star declaring their status. “Good, negcon,” they all relayed, one at a time. It took less than five seconds for the four other warriors in his Star to report. There was nothing left to do but wait. Martin would be dead soon, and then they would sweep in to finish the objective; his 'mechs with Jump Jets would leap over the jungle ridge and annihilate the dezgra forces; the armor and gun emplacements that the savages of the Inner Sphere deployed to attempt to deter the clear victors from claiming their rightful isorla, while the rest of his Star occupied the other forces in the area, as they fought to reclaim the salvage and genetic samples left of Martin and his 'mech. He waited, with his external microphone on, listening to the jungle sounds surrounding him, the sound of battle ahead. It was unceasing, putting him in the mood to compose poetry. Perhaps he himself would contribute Martin's verse in the Remembrance; already presuming Martin for dead put him back in a good mood to sing the praises of the man, who acted at his motivation. The phrase 'indestructible master of war' came to his mind, but it would be inappropriate as Martin would, in fact, have been destroyed. Still, that was the image conjured in his head of the battle taking place where he had pointed his directional pick-up. Jealous was unbecoming a MechWarrior, but Vlad wanted to be there, piloting his own Timber Wolf amidst the sundry barbarians, striking them down with the fury of his twinned ER Large Lasers. He could wait no longer, grinning as he envisioned the battle to be his once Martin had been terminated, and switched his reactor to hot. The 'mech's reactor began to whine behind him. “Star Colonel?” “Our part in this will begin soon. Power up.” His words prompted his underlings to power their own reactors, and he took a deep breath as his OmniMech came to full power, standing from the crouch it was in. It got the blood flowing, a feeling as powerful and intense as thrusting into a coupling-partner. Perhaps he would forgive Zenith her unintentional slight against him afterwards, presuming she survived. If not, he could find another woman. She was hardly the only he could win with his prowess, and not necessarily the most attractive, even. The jungle was rocked by a blast from the north that he would not have needed his microphone to hear. Far in the distance, he could see a distortion warping the air as the incredible force of the nitrous oxide device vaporized the highly energetic compound, then vaporized it all at once, creating a powerful explosion that then became an implosion. Not even a 'mech could survive such an incredible force, and he grinned, pushing his Timber Wolf forward. Now it was time for the cunning Wolf to finish what the berserk warrior had failed. It dawned on him only a split second before he heard the first additional explosions. If the fuel-air bomb had detonated inside of Martin's 'mech, he would not have seen the blast, as the fuel would not have been able to disperse widely enough to reach full power. Enough to set off every ammunition bin in the Timber Wolf at once, and to spike its heat levels to the point where the reactor would either shut down or melt down, but not to do much beyond that. “Star Colonel,” he heard Zenith say. “It appears that Martin fights on!” His teeth grated. “Aff. That appears to be the case.” He could scarcely believe it; he wanted to reject the reality of the situation; if willpower were enough to alter facts, he would substitute his own. His fists clenched the control yokes as he pushed his 'mech forward. “Martin's battle may be near its end. Perhaps the freebirths pump their weapons into his 'mech's hulk in relief. We must move, we will observe the situation for ourselves.” Ominious silence greeted them as he led the full Star of Clan OmniMechs into the battle site. There had been no answer to their radio calls, and the orbiting DropShip had orbited out of view before it could give a definitive answer. Perhaps Martin was dead after all. “Quicon?” “Negcon.” His 'mechs stalked through a field of debris, the hulks of tanks, buildings and 'mechs scattered around, with the occasional husk of a man shredded by heavy weapons fire. MechWarrior Night pushed his Summoner forward, towards the high ridge looking onto the DropShip manufacturing plant, and ignited his jump jets. Brilliant flames forced the 70-ton machine into the sky, its high cockpit giving it a great view at it landed amidst jungle trees. “Friencon,” MechWarrior Night called jubilantly. No. No! He would have howled the word if not for the very real chance that one of his underlings would challenge him on the spot for being so angry that the unreasonably lucky MechWarrior had survived again. Perhaps, by some miracle, some lucky shot had taken Martin out after he had accomplished his objective and slain most of the foes. Ward pushed his Timber Wolf into a full run, around the ridge, through the twisted, warped remains of the metal wall and the crated which evidenced the reason for its absence, to a most unwelcome sight. MechWarrior Martin was climbing out of the side of his Timber Wolf, the young warrior by all evidence unharmed. Vlad pulled his 'mech to a stop. He shut his weapons off, and inclined his head. “Congratulations,” he said. “You have bid far below cutdown, and emerged victorious.” His voice was smooth was and level. He prided himself on that much, at least, despite the burning anger within. His pride as a Wolf MechWarrior would accept no less than that he showed the respect that was the due of a warrior who accomplished so much. He could swear that he could see the smirk on Martin's face as he acknowledged it with a quick “Aff, I have done just that, Star Colonel.” Some time later, Vladimir Ward nodded to the figure on the screen. He was no longer dressed in coolant vest and shorts, but in the furred vest and wolf-head headdress that was his to wear for formal occasions. In this occasion, he was answering a communication from the Clan Council, which had reached a decision on the matter he had been compelled to put before them. The figure in the holotank appearing before him nodded his head. “The Grand Council has reached a decision. The meritorious valor and skill with which MechWarrior Martin has declared have been judged to be exceptional examples of that which our Clans are founded upon. Whatever he was before, Star Colonel Martin is Clan, and he is Wolf. His genes are to be the foundation of his legacy; it is the judgement of the Grand Council that Bloodhouse McFly has been founded, and his genetic legacy is to be conveyed posthaste to all Wolf repositories for immediate inclusion in the next generation of Clan Wolf's warriors. Such has been the judgement of the council, seyla.” “Seyla,” Vlad answered back, nodding to the figure on the screen. “Your will shall be done immediately, saKhan.” The connection was terminated; there was no further need to continue to speak. Vlad stroked his chin; it at least answered one question. Martin was indeed Freeborn, as that would be the only circumstance under which a warrior who had proven himself so capable would found a new Bloodhouse instead of claiming a Bloodname. There could be no contest for him to win, as he was the only eligible member; none other than Martin could claim the Bloodname, yet. Vladimir considered the option of calling for Bloodhouse Ward to initiate an immediate Trial of Reaving against Bloodhouse McFly, but he dismissed the option as a flight of petty vengeance. Let the man keep the Bloodname; he had earned it, and attempting to take it from him would only infuriate his fellows, and win more supporters for Martin. No; he would not be petty. He had no need to be; McFly had proven himself an overwhelmingly powerful single combatant, but it was high time his due had come. His rank was artificially-inflated, won at the name of acomplishing the impossible, instead of participating in a Trial of Position. The field rank had been stripped, and McFly would now be participating in a proper Trial of Position. At least the highest he was likely to score in that contest would be Star Captain. Vlad had ensured that a very competent Point Commander would be taking the Trial alongside Martin. He would destroy his own opponents before the newly-Bloodnamed warrior, and would not surrender a kill. That outcome was... Satisfactory. As he took his headdress off to replace it in its container, he smiled to himself. “Seyla,” he whispered, satisfied that at least Martin was firmly under his control again, and not competing with him for rank. For now, the only thing he had to worry about was Phelan Ward. Though they had both managed to claim the Ward Bloodname, and hence had not had to fight one another for it, Phelan was still a rival. Vlad was a man who could ill-afford too many rivals. Ambition was the heritage of both of them, and neither man would settle for anything less than Khan in the end. That would be problematic. Perhaps he would do well to cultivate the loyalty of the indomitable Martin – or at least, to manipulate Phelan into questioning Martin's courage. The next-best thing to a loyal ally is a predictable enemy, after all. Vladimir sighed, heavily. So many factors to balance. It was a wonder he had any time left to devote any attention to the invasion, but devote it he would. He was a busy man, after all, and there was no time to waste. He had many worlds to conquer if he was going to make an attempt at being Khan.
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Mar 26, 2011 03:36
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