Iron Blooded Warriors: Chapter 1

August 3rd, 3032
Battle of Soret Pass

Missiles screamed across the sky, fire in the air. Their explosion cut through the thick smoke, the red light of hellfire back-lighting three towering figures. Moments after the light died down, Spears of Red and Blue washed out from them. The fog had rolled in despite mankind's insistence on war, and so mankind proceeded regardless. Nature could not restrain the wrath of Earth's Children.

Tanks fired back and forth across the no-man's-land created by the tug of war, ruined fortifications amid coniferous forests aflame. Smoke bled to the sky like an open wound in water and a thunder no god of storms could make rolled through the valley.

It was the march of the ultimate war machines, The BattleMechs.

Laser-light gave no silhouette for the battle, only a bridge for these metal Gods of War to carry their targets to the next life. An explosion, a fuel Depot for the Outpost within the valley detonated, and a skulled machine in the shape of a man leered down, bright white warpaint upon it's six-stories-up face.

Another explosion, this time below it's elbow, the roar of an ancient dragon roused from it's slumber to murderous purpose. The light of the flaming fuel began to die, black smoke choking out vision. It was a terrible day to die, yet die men must before those awesome Titans, their bravery and honor snuffed out before the iron-shod boots of Giants.

This was the world Roric Gustav. Born into the saddle of a BattleMech, he inherited his machine from his father as did his before that, all the way back to the first succession war in 2786. By now, almost three-hundred years later, the methods of war had little changed. Before all warriors, there was the MechWarrior. Before all weapons, there was the BattleMech. One could not exist without the other, and for as long as one was needed, war would continue in such a way; of Giants hurling slings and arrows of fire and light, as the small-folk fought and died around them. Such was life, such was the Inner Sphere.

The crying child was clutched tightly by his mother aboard the DropShip "Forwards Unto Glory", the pains of childbirth fading. Little newborn Roric would never know a life of peace; his father was below, piloting his birthright "Thor", the greatest of BattleMechs his family owned. The battle was a short four Kilometers away, close enough to hear the explosions and battle, far away enough to be safe. His father would not return from this battle.

Dying in the defense of a nation that paid him the bare minimum and offered the most lean of salvage rights, he did so with honor, to topple an Atlas that was attacking a retreating convoy. His honor and nobility in the battle, and across the inner sphere during his long career, earned the Gustav family the return of his body and his Mech, despite the prize a King Crab would be worth. His killer, Lieutenant Hans Steiner-Davion, personally saw the honorable MechWarrior returned.

Some years later, when Roric Gustav was twelve, he would receive a gift from the Lyran Prince, a selection of salvaged parts to help rebuild the King Crab "Thor", with the instruction to ensure the ejection module was well maintained. The two would never meet again. To some, MechWarriors were knights. To others, simple tank jockies with an ego. The example played by the Prince and the reputation of his father made Roric Gustav think of himself as the former, and when he was 17, he took command of his mercenary outfit, now diminished from years of scraping by, re-branded them "Roric's Rangers" and set them on-course for a long campaign of chivalrous contracts and proud service.

3058, Lyran Space
Battle of Eisenvania

Battle damage from more than a hundred years marred Thor's beautiful blue-and-white paint job. Atop the cabin, looking out at the forest of pines from above the treetops, sat the now-mature Roric Gustav. This was his first battle with Thor, she was finally finished, finally repaired. Around him, a pair of Phoenix Hawks painted in Davion Red and Gold lay shattered, their heads cleanly launched from their bodies. It was a civil war, the Federated Commonwealth was sundering under the machinations of Archon Katrina of the so-called "Lyran Alliance". The greatest hope for peace the Inner Sphere had ever known, the bulwark against the terror of the clans, was dead. Roric looked down, leaning over the side of his King Crab, as the two MechWarriors he defeated made their way towards him.

His father's reputation for nobility made the younger Gustav a popular figure, allowing enemies to live was a saintly thing and offering to let them leave and return home, beyond what most would consider. They climbed atop the feet of the King Crab, taking the offer for a ride to the nearest village. There they would be on their own. He had no stake in this conflict; this was his Ranger's last battle, after this they were headed to the Periphery for some R&R and cakewalk assignments.

The payout from this mission was delicious: Thirteen-million C-Bills, 1/6th salvage, and a full arsenal of ammunition for ten battles to secure the planet. His Mercs would be eating well for months, and with a few small jobs, like escorts and outlaw bounties, they could probably sit out the worst of this civil war far from the fighting.

He slid down the hatch, flicking his long-dead cigar away into the forest. His boots hit the deck of the spacious cockpit within the King Crab and he sat himself in the pilot seat. He didn't bother putting on a Neurohelmet, opting instead of a fairly easy strut at a comfortable 30 km/h. The journey to civilization took half an hour, and when he stopped to allow the Federated Suns MechWarriors off, they were too glad of the freedom. A stomping robot was nice, but not if you had to ride up and down on it's feet.

"Command to Leo," chirped the radio. Roric reached for it, keying twice.

"Leo, go ahead command."

"The JumpShip had pulled into Orbit, and the entire company is on board. We are landing at Echo Ten to retrieve you."

"Copy, Echo Ten, en-rout," Roric spun the 100-ton Mech around; E10 on the local map put him five minutes away going at Max speed. He pushed the throttle up to 80%, deciding to enjoy the cool air a little more. Leaving the walk to Thor, he climbed the ladder to the hatch, and propped himself up on the roof again. Without his Neurohelmet on, he could be sitting anywhere on the Mech and it would mind it's footing just as well. The computers programming kept it from taking any risks to itself or it's pilot, unless he told it to. So he closed his eyes, and enjoyed the Alpine air.

His precious few minutes of calm were ended by the roar of the DropShip Forwards Unto Glory, a powerful thousand-ton cargo space ship designed to carry, maintain, and house BattleMechs and their MechWarriors. It was his second home; his first would always be Thor. Slipping down to the control seat once more, he slowed to a stop and waited for the DropShip to touch down. The boxy space ship opened up it's rear door and, after a moment, Roric walked Thor into it's mooring. With practiced ease it's feet clipped into it's anchors and the bay doors sealed.

The process of powering down the BattleMech was long, with a lot of it relegated to technicians and mechanics. Roric simply brought the Reactor to standby, brought all systems offline, and exited his hatch. A gantry had connected to the top of the King Crab, and as it's anchor platform began to move forwards with an alarm, the gantry kept pace. His boots rattled off the metal grating as he left Thor, which began to spin around in place now that he was no longer onboard. He rode the Gantry a little further, before stepping off and making his way to the command center of the DropShip.

"Welcome back, sir," called out Second Officer Alianna Ra as he entered the room from the MechBay. She was his ace MechWarrior and piloted "Reaper", the only BattleMech with a higher total kill count than any other Mech in his crew, except for Thor, combined. Solo, the lifetime of war Thor had experience put it just ahead of the Ace's Mech, but only by three. The Egyptian tart's call-sign was apt, if a bit pretentious. "The deck is yours."

"Thank you, Ra. Skipper, if you please," he called over the intercom at the command desk, a large panel of controls looking out over the MechBay with the impressive Command center behind him, and blue lights began to flash across the ship, "take us up and out."

The DropShip shuddered as the crew rushed to get buckled in for the atmospheric departure, Roric strapping himself into his seat in the command center. It was a large room, a holo-glass window looking out into the MechBay, a central hologlobe detailing geographical details of the operations area, multiple support stations for radio and technical command and control, and a small kitchen with three coffee makers. Only the essentials. Lieutenant Ra was strapped in near one of the support consoles, and a handful of the eighty-man Merc company were in with them as well.

Gravity gave out as Roric surveyed his ship's heart, and the lights flicked back on to full brightness, the alarms dying unceremoniously. He unbuckled himself and kicked off, drifting towards the rear door that lead to the helm. On either side, ladder wells lead to the hanger deck above and the crew quarters below. On top of their six BattleMechs, Roric's Rangers had a wing of six fighters, three Lucifer's and three Lance's, with a single Ahab heavy bomber to their name. The fighters were what gave the Mercenary outfit their independence, they could rely on themselves for support and clear coverage. Space or dirt, Roric's Rangers could handle it.

The door to the helm slid down, and the three pilots for the DropShip barely noticed;
"-for the same reason!"
"That's bullshit and you know it, that match was RIGGED!"
"Get that Capellan bullshit out of here, Stump Grinder lost fair and square-"
"Duncan never lies, he saw the match, he called it. That was a clean sweep."

"Are you being a sore loser again, Skipper?" Called Roric, floating between the lead pilot and his right most engineer he was arguing with.

"No sir, just telling Shi-Lang over there-" he pointed to the man in question with a flip of the bird, "that I'm not falling for his damn lies!"

Angry Chinese filled the helm as the two argued again over the latest Solaris match they decided to bet on. Roric felt like stepping in would be poor judgment, as long as the money stayed on the ship and among the crew, he'd let them gamble away. Still, "I don't need you strangling my Engineer, Qi Seong, cool it down a heat sink."

"Aye aye, Captain," he answered, fuming to himself, "we are approaching the JumpShip now, should be a quiet journey to Canopus."

"Catgirls," howled the otherwise-silent communications specialist, "and fine dining! Oh Captain you do so treat us.

"Don't spend every single C-Bill you earned on lap dances from a mermaid, Bjorneson," cautioned the engineer, laughing.

"JumpShip in sight," interrupted Seong, "preparing for final docking. JumpShip CSS 733, this is DropShip Forwards in Glory requesting permission to dock, over... Correct, payment upon docking... Understood, docking collar Zed-Two-Alpha."

The JumpShip was a spectacular sight. A massive metal sail moved in the solar winds, charging the powerful JumpDrive. It was multiple orbiting rings, each boarded by DropShips of commercial nature. The Great Houses owned their own JumpShips, and could afford to shuttle their own armies. Private JumpShips, or those run by CommStar, handled the rest. Rules of war dictated such targets were off-limits, given replacing JumpShips was impossible, making such neutral shuttling a lucrative, peaceful life.

"Hmm... Skipper, contacts off the starboard... That's... Shit, Clan Warship on the scanners!"

"Continue docking," called Seong, "they're still a ways out, and if we get left behind we are good as dead."

The JumpShip that bore the IFF of the Clans disgorged DropShips laden with fighters and weapons, some even bearing BattleMechs of their own. Anyone present knew what was next; the Tukayyad Accord didn't extend this far west, it only halted the Clans from southward attacks.

"We're docked. Payment is wired, CSS 733, plus a tip."

Roric tossed himself backwards, and grabbed onto a ladder as he passed it, swinging around and yanking himself upwards.

"All Pilots, to stations! We have confirmed Clan presence! If we are getting out of this it's gonna be a close one," Roric paused, his CommBead clicking, "Gustav, go ahead."

"Skipper, the JumpShip refunded our docking fee, in exchange for our fighters running interference. Those tube-kids are coming right for us."

Roric changed channels, "All pilots, this is not a drill, to your stations. Clan fighters inbound, protect the DropShip and the JumpShip."

The flight deck began to screamed with alarms, and Roric pulled himself a deck below. Shortly after, void-suited technicians and Pilots sailed upwards. Fighters were given their final check, crews boarded and pilots were placed into their cockpits. The flight deck sealed with a hatch over each stairwell, and the air was pumped out.

Lieutenant Ra was already at the command consoles, barking orders. Roric floated beside her, stopping himself on her shoulder, "Contacts?"

"They have three stars of heavy bombers inbound, and four wings of 30 to 40 ton interceptors."

Roric grimaced, he hoped the other DropShips on this tub had their own fighter compliments, or this might he more than hairy real quick. Valkyrie and Warrior wings covered Niddhogg 0 as it coasted in for a counter-bombing of the Clan bombers. The hologlobe gave an accurate 3d map of events, and when the seven squares of Ranger's fliers touched the clan's, a flood of damage readouts and hit confirmations overflowed into the control center. Technicians at the two consoles fed positional data and tactically updates to the jockeys in space, while the Comms team relayed the situation to the JumpShip.

Roric's Rangers were alone out there, with significant damage to Valkyrie 2 and 5, and Warrior 1 making a return to the DropShip due to an ammo explosion badly damaging it beyond combat usefulness. Niddhogg 0 ate shots like the death-brick it was, and when the crew announced an alpha strike away, multiple OpFor bombers flashed off the board. Despite that, the Clans came, and the mercenaries were alone.

"Captain! A DropShip has detached and is making a run for the planet!"

The crew watched in horror as a merchant runner tried to escape, but a wing of fighters broke off to pick it apart.

"They made their Gambit," Roric called out, "defend your home and defend this JumpShip. Helm, I want point defense on our dorsal mounts to cover Warrior 1, he's almost home."

"...Aye aye, sir. Covering Warrior 1."

Roric could hear the concentration in Seong, having to prioritize targets for the guns to Target. Were the DropShip free, it's own laser batteries could be brought against the Clan's ships.

"Sir, new fighters on the board," Roric turned, and several blue interceptors and heavy fighters launched from another DropShip, this one clearly a freighter. They joined the green Ranger fighters and helped push the red blocks from closing to the JumpShip, "Sir, message from the JumpShip, we are charged. Once all fighters are onboard, we're out of here."

"Command to Niddhogg, Valkyrie, Warrior, get back on this ship if you want to leave. We are set to depart!"

The blue icons covered the green as Roric's fighters returned to his DropShip, before beating their own retreat. One good turn for their own sacrifices. The Clan fighters were turning themselves, likely to flag any escape pods for collection. Despite the traded blows, only two ships had been taken out completely, a pair of medium bombers.

Roric breathed a sigh of relief, "We made it, ever-" an explosion echoed through the ship. Multiple warnings flashed across the Hologlobe. The JumpShip, mid-launch, was struck by a ship-killer. A torpedo, launched from one of the bombers.

"All hands, brace!" Roric called out as the JumpShip made the Hyperjump with a bleeding jump generator. There was a power surge, lights went out, and gravity slapped everyone square in the stomachs. A high pitched screech filled the DropShip followed by a smell of spiced wine. Then, stillness. Silence.

"Report!" Roared Roric, staggering to his feet despite the impossibility of that in space. His words left his mouth like molasses, as he watched the air in front of him move, actually move. His eyebrow furrowed in confusion as he watched others ripple the air with their speech. Then, gravity vanished, every sound in the room hit him at once, and the spiced wine smell vanished, replaced with grease, coffee, and sweat.

"Sir, did you just..."

Roric looked to the confused engineer, nodding himself.

"Whatever just happened," Alianna quickly shouted, "we are lucky to be alive. One thing at a time."

Roric nodded, and pushed himself to the helm. The power was still out, so the door had to be manually opened. He braced against the frame and tugged on the emergency release. After two good pulls, it gave, and the door snapped open.

"Captain, the Reactor is down. We're getting nothing from up here," called out Shi-Leng, "but we can see lights on the JumpShip still. We think we made it intact."

Before them, out the window to the void, like a cold, small planetoid, ice and rock bare upon it's surface. Beyond, a large orange star.

"I want communications with the JumpShip before we make any moves," Roric ordered, "and I want our Reactor online before we suffocate to death."

It was going to be a while before Roric's Rangers finally got some R&R, the Mercenary Captain thought. A long time indeed.

Repairs and bringing the fusion Reactor back online took only two hours; long enough for temperatures to get high, but not so close that breathing was difficult. When the oxygen returned, practically the entire crew crowded into the crew quarters to enjoy the cool air.

Roric remained on the bridge; the MechWarriors were used to heat like this. Alianna was checking the communications with the JumpShip half-naked while Patrikov, the pilot to "Speed Demon", seemed the most at ease.

"Scratch," called Alianna, earning a sideways glance from the smaller clan-born Merc, "why the shit are you still wearing all of that?"

'Scratch' was the nickname the Clanner had earned from his horrible skill at Pool despite his insistence he was a natural. He didn't refuse it, so it worked well enough.

"Trueborn warriors don't have the same issues with keeping cool you Freebirth do," he answered, "not to be a snob."

"I heard the Clans had a eugenics program," Roric said, looking up from the life support feed, "but you're honestly telling me you were bred specifically to keep cool?"

"Among other things. I was purpose bred to be a perfect MechWarrior," he replied, though after a pause he tossed an eyebrow at his commander, "I thought you already knew all of that?"

"I thought it was just some Marik 'pure blood' bullshit," Roric confessed, "You actually mean they do the whole Darwinian breeding thing?"

"Kerensky no," Scratch swore, using the name of the legendary general in place of a deific figure. Might have been one in the same to the Clanner, "We Truebirth come from steel mothers. Nothing as-"

"Much as I love your commentary on Clan barbarities-" cut in Alianna loudly, "We just got a report back from the JumpShip. Their hyper drive is fried. They're negotiating with the other vessels right now, seems there is a factory DropShip onboard and a mining ship."

"Tell them they have our fighters. We're getting out of this together or not at all."

"Aye aye, oh and that Trade ship that sent their fighters to help sent us a query for any spare repair parts we need," she whistled slightly, adding under her breath, "I like these guys."

"Thank them, tell them I will get a manifest together," Alianna nodded to Roric, and he spun about and made his way to the ladder well. He floated lazily down to the crew quarters, the cool air giving his bare arms goose-flesh, but ignored it in favor of finding his AeroFighter crew chief. "Langdon! Where are you, I need a moment."

The well-fed New Avalon native made his way over, smiling happily as usual, "Aye, sir, what' cannae do fer you?" After a brief exchange, a few moments tossing emails across tablets, and a shot of Federated Suns whiskey courtesy of the crew chief, Roric had his details and forwarded them to his second. She'd handle the rest of that, leaving him to get a little quiet after all the commotion.

First, a Clan raid as they were leaving for some rest, and now they were stranded out in god-knew-where. As far as he cared, guarding this ship with AeroFighters while it repaired would be the most R&R they would be getting for some time before getting out of the system. That meant making the most of it. The whole crew lived together, and strict rations would get their heckles up. To keep order, he'd probably keep them busy with maintenance, but some extra free time to regret their free time should do them wonders.

Nothing quite like being stranded to help you get into trouble, he supposed. He was glad he could have some time to free float. Honestly, floating didn't get that old.

"Captain," one of the crew hands called out, hoisting an intercom receiver, "for you," With a groan, Roric swung himself around. Ah well, he needed the extra work. Not like he had been running practically non-stop since his crew went into the previous battle.

"Gustav here," he answered deadpan. He wanted this over and done with.

"This is Princeps Valton, CommStar," replied the voice, "I wanted to inform you of a few things... Personally. When is the soonest you can make your way up to the bridge of the JumpShip?"
"We just got out life support online, it'll take some time for the crew to be set for any departures. Maybe-" he paused to think of a proper time frame.

"Understood," replied the CommStar officer, "we will send a shuttle to retrieve you. Do you need any repair crew?"

"Oh..." Roric paused, looking around. Everything... Seemed, fine. "No, no sir. We are all set down here."

"Wonderful, be ready in half an hour. I am eager to meet you," the line died, and Roric gave a hard, long exhale, sailing backwards.

"... shit. RA!"

The crew got out of the way as he hurled himself to the ladder well, and with a yank went up a deck. "Ra, get a shirt on we're going to-" Roric stopped dead, eyebrows up. Floating in the middle of the room, Alianna was putting on a ballistic vest, dressed in fatigues, "Oh. Alright."

"Sir?"

"Oh, nothing, I just didn't know you heard me. Wait, were you eavesdropping?"

"Uh.. a little."

Roric stared. Well, she was his right hand woman... That said, something was off. Roric looked around, "Where's scratch?"

"Oh, that big baby," she shrugged, "hurt his feelings. He's probably going to hide in his Crab or something."

"... Goddamn it, Ra..."

"Hey! You said," she pushed herself towards her Captain, "when we brought that Clanner on, I was to be civilized. I have been. I've been the picture of civilized."

Roric put his hand to his face, "Ra he had been on the crew for three years," he sighed, "let up on the sorry bastard. He's been through enough,"

She shrugged, and almost brushed it off, "Oh no. You're gonna apologize for this. I'm tired of your bullshit."

Roric spun around and pushed himself up to the flight deck, "After you're done, get up here. We have a ride to catch."

Roric spent the next half hour dressing into a void suit kept on the flight deck for him. Ra was a bit behind, but was a faster dress-down than he was. The CommStar ship wasn't far behind their finished preparations, and a few flight team crew came up to help the landing. A few CommGuard with Laser Rifles stood at the door to the shuttle, though they greeted the Mercs warmly. The interior was bare and hard the necessary crash seats for atmospheric travel, but they were unnecessary for the zero-G ferrying that it was being used for now.

The ride was quiet, the CommGuard their usual, quiet selves. The Cyborgs occasionally smiled, or made a quiet laugh; Roric assumed they were talking through some sort of internal radio or whatever Wizardry the crazies in CommStar thought was necessary. They weren't armored up so that was nice, they seemed more personable.

"We're here. Might want to set yourselves feet-wise, the JumpShip has simulated gravity," one of the CommGuard helpfully added. Roric and Ra both set their feet "downwards", and sure enough, they began to feel a bit of a draw as the shuttle docked. They were pointed towards a hatch, and climbing a ladder made their way into the JumpShip proper.

It was a maze of white Stone and polished metal, with stained glass of 'Blessed Blake', their holy figure, occasionally showing some religious function. An Aid was waiting for the two as they climbed up and out, and they were introduced promptly, "I am Princeps Kalgor, Valton is waiting for you in one of our board rooms. If you would?" He motioned, and the two Mercs followed closely.

The trip was mercifully sweet and their arrival was Swift and unassuming. They were ushered inside, and Roric got his first look at his host. An older man with many cybernetic body parts, a few other ship captains were present as well. He nodded and slipped into a nearby seat. Ra on the other hand chose standing behind him over sitting.

"Good, good, we are all here," began who Roric assumed to be Valton, something he confirmed rather quickly, "I am pleased your journey was successful. I am Princeps Valton, and I have asked you all here because of the situation onboard the JumpShip. I will spare you the fine details," he said, leaning forwards, "however after our initial damage report, we believe we may need some special resources to fabricate replacements for our damaged Jump drive. The rumor that it is 'toast', is false; were that the case, we would all be stranded. It is however, damaged and strained, and needs repairs before we attempted another jump.

"We have identified another planet in this solar system which may have the resources we need," the room darkened and a holographic display of the system appeared. It was fairly simple, with eight planets and an asteroid belt, "which we believe to be on this planet."

The view magnified to a sizable red planet with scattered depressions and canyons, heavily damaged by meteors or volcanoes.

"We will be using our primary propulsion to make our way there. While en-rout..."

The talk continued for hours. Eventually, a dinner was served, courtesy of the Princeps and CommStar, and an understanding was reached regarding services. Everyone, except for the Mercenary crew and the traders, would pitch in for repairs. Those two would be kept partial in reserve, their spare hands doing what they could while their military forces were on standby. If something happened, Roric's Rangers would act in the interest of the JumpShip, while the Trader fighters would remain as protective detail. All in all, a workable arrangement. The journey to the red planet was a slow one, but the brief system-only test jump sped it up by more than a few months. The drive still worked, but it couldn't sustain travel. The gulf between this star and the next would be an impassible one until the jumpdrive was repaired.


MechProfile: King Crab KGC-005
Class: Assault
Armaments: LB-20-X Autocannon in each claw, ER Large Laser under the cockpit, two SRM "Streak" in rear left torso
The King Crab is a 100-Ton Battlemech, first developed in the year 2743 as a MechKiller, its use has remained relevant and is a feared enemy on the battlefield. While possessed of a wide torso, making it an easy target, and disgustingly slow, (a meager 32 km/h,) the King Crab packs a pair of AC/20s which are devastating cannons capable of beheading another Mech with a single shot. Despite being lower armored than some of its peers in class, the King Crabs nature is one of a brutal killing machine, something few can compete with. Its allotted tonnage is dedicated to weapons systems and ammunition, making it a skirmish mech that requires often re-arming. While its faults are derided as being not worth the hastle by some Commanders, few MechWarriors would turn down the opportunity to annihilate their enemy with one of the most well-known BattleMechs in the Inner Sphere, pre-dating even the lauded and feared Atlas.