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Battletech meets Jurasic Park
by Demun God |
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Graham City, Guiasar
Free Worlds League
9 December 3065
The Excalibur-class DropShip Jackhammer made a perfect 6-point landing, having all six landing struts touch the ground at the same time. Guiasar's Planetary Governor, Duke Carl Wagner was there to meet with the mercenary commander.
"Sir, I can assure you. We have no military forces on this planet. At the very most, we have four or five police Mechs. That's it." Lt. Col. Moore sneered at Wagner, "Kind of tells you what your Captain-General thinks for the security and safety of this planet, it being right on the border and all."
"Sir, I do not care on who's side of the border this planet sits, just for the safety of my people."
Moore put his arm around the small, skinny man, "Well, Carl,…I hope its OK to call you Carl. These people aren't really yours anymore. They are people of the Lyran Alliance."
Since the civil war erupted that tore the Federated Commonwealth apart, one-half would be referred to as the 'Lyran Alliance', ruled by Archon Katrina Steiner-Davion, the current employer of the Mobile Fire Mercenary Unit, while her brother Victor Steiner-Davion, took what remained of the Federated Commonwealth under his wing.
"You are not stripping me of my title are you? I offered no resistance, I caused no trouble?" Wagner's voice increased in pitch with every word.
Moore stopped, "True Carl, you didn't." The merc thought for a minute, "Tell ya what, Carl. You can play planetary governor, as long as no trouble is caused. Deal?"
The man pushed his glasses up, off his nose, "Yes sir. It is a deal."
Moore's face went from jovial to serious, "Now, why haven't the Mechs we picked up on scanners returned to their barracks yet?"
"I don't know. Maybe something was wrong with their communications systems?"
"Ah, come on, Carl! Don't give me that!" Moore scoffed.
"Call them in, now." Moore demanded.
"Yes sir."
Wagner and Moore were followed by four security guards into the spaceport's communications room. Major Angela Davies deployed her armor right off the tarmac. Each company was to commandeer a city police station and use it as a base of operations, with the regular police personnel being used as auxiliaries. However, the East Graham Police Department had a surprise waiting when the Mobile Fire armor showed up.
An old Pegasus Scout Tank was slowly moving down Gardner Avenue, when no less than eight shoulder-fired rockets slammed into it. Most of the armor on both sides of the vehicle disintegrated under the combined firepower, amidst smoke, fire, and shards of armor flying in all directions. The light hovercraft's driver immediately gunned the engine as the gunner swung the turret-mounted heavy short-range missile racks in the direction he thought the attack came from, and opened fire. At close range, it was hard to miss the multi-story department store. As twelve missiles slammed into the building's front, the whole face exploded outward, showering the street with brick, wood, and bits of steel skeletal structure. Further down the street, more rockets streamed into the mauled Pegasus. A rocket finally penetrated the skirt and front direction fan, driving the hovercraft's nose into the street, in a spectacular display of sparks. As the four-man crew tried to escape from their disable vehicle, the police officers of the East Side Station opened fire on them with their service pistols and long-range rifles. All four crewmen fell to an overwhelming barrage of small arms fire.
Back down the street, similar scenes were taking place, before the firepower mounted on the vehicles of Mobile Fire starting shooting at everything in sight. Anywhere a person could hide, a vehicle was seen pumping a few rounds or laser bursts into that area. A running firefight was taking place down the entire length of Gardner Avenue. A few police officers would fire off their rockets, then retreat down the street, to a fall-back area, before more police officers would be standing by, to unload their rockets. The system worked well for about the first ten minutes of the battle, then the long-range weapons of the armor got overtime. The police were helped by the civilians who worked at the station, using their privately owned weapons against the armor.
In one instance, a young man ran out into the middle of the street in front of a slow-moving Vedette. In swift motion, he brought his hunting rifle up to his shoulder, sighted with his image-enhancing scope and fired. A little pane of glass shattered followed by the jerky, stuttering stop of the light, tracked vehicle. The man had been lucky beyond luck, seeing the driver looking through a small view port, instead of relying on his sensor display. His single, heavy caliber bullet had shattered the viewport and nailed the driver right between the eyes. Unfortunately, the tank's machinegun opened fire, almost cutting the young shooter in half.
The Mobile Fire Company, in return for the resistance being leveled at them, proceeded to level almost 80% of the Eastern District and chase down every cop and civilian employee at the East Side Station. In the end, 45 police officers, along with another 60 civilian employees had been killed, and the East Graham Police Department leveled to the ground. For their troubles, they had knocked out half of the Armor Company.
The resistance by the eastern police department prompted Moore to deploy his Mech forces. Where there was no armor present, a Mech would come stomping by. If any resistance were even perceived, the MechWarrior would left fly with a laser, missile, or autocannon barrage.
*****************************
"…….remain in your homes until this crisis is over. I beg of you to not resist your new military garrison. They are here for your safety. Thank you."
"I've never seen a man with so much yeller on his back." Frank said, as he watched a transmission from the Governor's Office.
Behind the governor stood Lieutenant Colonel Moore, arms crossed, as smug as could be.
The remote bivouac Donovan had set up, was deep in the jungle and blocked from scanners by the metal deposits in the surrounding hills. Most of the Central Station personnel had regrouped here, along with some that straggled in from the North Station.
"Most people in his position don't have a backbone," Sergeant Blackstone said, checking the magazine of his service pistol for any specks of dirt.
"Regardless, what are we going to do, oh fearless leader. We have five Mechs and about twenty people here, who could classify as infantry. No one even thought about getting those damn Harassers out of the pen." Sheraton was sitting in a folding chair, arms crossed, legs propped on a fallen Red Pine.
"Sheraton, you have no faith, do you. You get overwhelmed, and you might as well give up. Sounds familiar doesn't it, MechWarrior?"
Blackstone was referring to a time when Sheraton was in military service with the Gryphons Regiment, he held an advantageous position, but upon hearing the enemy outnumbered his own forces, he retreated which lead to a disastrous results. His commander gave him a royal ass-chewing, and the ensuing knock-out punch, is what got Sheraton kicked out.
At Blackstone's implication, Sheraton sprang off his seat, and delivered a flying leap-kick that landed squarely across Blackstone's jaw. The big man went flying back, tripping over an equipment trunk, and landing squarely on his back. Sheraton was about to advance, when Donovan yelled, "Hold it, Sergeant!"
Sheraton looked over his shoulder to see Donovan pointing his pistol at him, "What are you going to do, Lieutenant. Shoot me?"
"Well, James, that is usually the intention when someone is pointing a gun at someone else. However, I'd like to save the ammo for the enemy, if you don't mind."
Sheraton pointed at the man on the ground, "This ain't over, Blackstone."
Rubbing his jaw, Blackstone mumbled, "You bet your ass, this ain't!"
"Now listen up, everybody! We have to stick together on this. You know the old saying, 'We all hang together, or we all hang separately'. Well, since the governor has turned us over to the Lyrans, you can bet we'll hang now, for going against Guiasar's 'rightful ruler'." Donovan spat out the last two words, as if they were they most disgusting thing he'd ever tasted.
"But Sir, James does have a point. We only have five Mechs, limited fighting capability, and our supplies and equipment are low." This from the usually quiet Officer Crystal Robinson, the Mech Division's Spider pilot.
"Well, we'll just have to 'borrow' some stuff from Mobile Fire, then."
***********************
"Why haven't those Mech units returned to their barracks, Governor Wagner, soon-to-be-trash-collector-Wagner!" the red-faced Moore yelled into Planetary Governor Carl Wagner's face.
The smaller man looked as if he were about to wet his pants, "Colonel Moore, I have no idea. I personally sent out an order for them to return."
The merc shoved his pointer finger into the governor's face, "Well obviously, your orders have fallen on deaf ears. As of this moment, you are no longer governor of this rock." Moore looked around, "Somebody get this man a broom! You can start with the East Side."
Moore looked around again, spotting the nearest Mobile Fire trooper, "You! Take this man to the East Side. You are to guard him until this 'irritation' in the Archon's side is over. Eight hours a day, until it is clean, I want this man cleaning up the streets. If he stops, shoot him."
"Yes sir," the trooper nodded.
"Send patrols out into the jungle. Obviously, these MechWarriors intend to fight. They have holed up somewhere in the jungles outside the city, waiting for a weakness window." |
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