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Balancer, The
A fictional (we hope) story of the Fasa HQ.
by Jeffrey Smith |
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Douglas Hartman clutched the battered DVD case in his hand, the nervous sweat pouring off making the scratched plastic hard to grasp. One more person was in line ahead of him, and then it would be his turn to show them what he could do.
The door across the hall opened, and Hartman smirked internally as the boy who staggered out fought back tears. Choking back a sob, the failed supplicant motioned the man at the head of the line into the chamber, placing Hartman at the head of the line. Clasping his hands to hide his nerves, he leaned back in his chair as he waited to make his entry in the Fifth Annual New Technology Expo for Fasa Corporation.
***
"Sit down," the balding giant behind the desk intoned, "and insert your data in the slot in front of you."
Hartman's hands shook slightly as he slid the disk into the receptacle mounted on the edge of the desk. As he took a deep breath to begin his presentation, the giant's hand rose. "Stop. Let the information speak for itself."
A holograph sprang to life in the middle of the desk. A squat cylinder with a half dozen thick cables sticking out of the back began to rotate between the two men. An eerie voice began to recite it's conclusions.
"Targeting Acquisition Gear, Mark II. Equipment, exclusive to Inner Sphere. 5 Tons. Item has a 50 hex range, and ignores terrain when calculating Line-of-Sight. Acts in a manner identical to a ClanTech Targeting Computer when designating specific hit locations. Once item has achieved target lock, it will never lose lock unless the mounting platform is destroyed or the pilot designates a new target. Ignores the effects of ECM."
"Tech Level: 8. Battle Value impossible to calculate."
"Eight?! It's balanced! It uses a newly discovered property of tachyons and the talents of some Clan Coyote scientist-Caste bondsmen to..."
"Silence." The single word, spoken in tones of ice, shut Hartman up immediately. The man stood, his head brushing the ceiling.
"Come with me."
He led Hartman to a massive table that made up most of the left side of the office. Inside the holotank, hundreds of two inch high Battlemechs tossed simulated missiles, fired simulated lasers, and vanished in simulated fireballs. At one end of the table a floating globe of light labeled 'Terra' disgorged miniature 'Mechs by the dozen, while a similar sphere entitled 'Strana Mechty' spat out Clan BattleMechs.
The Balancer gestured at the table. "Each of these 'Mechs is run by a dedicated processor. There are 1200 set aside for the Inner Sphere, 1000 for the Clans. Every time a 'Mech is destroyed, it regenerates within fifteen seconds from the bases, in whatever class or configuration the Faction Server decides in necessary. Note how this aids the side closest to their origin point, since reinforcements travel a much shorter distance. Each side attempts to close and destroy the other's base, but this see-saw, never ending battle means that the sides are roughly in balance."
He held up the DVD that he has removed from the desk. "Now, let's see what happens when we add your toy." He slid the disk into a waiting tray and closed it with a snap.
For a few moments nothing appeared to happen, but Hartman noted that replacement 'Mechs for the Inner Sphere were no longer rushing to the center of the table. Instead, a new formation began to form in the dead zone between the respawner and the battle. *Archers*, *Catapults*, *O'Bakemos*, and other missile equipped 'Mechs began to gather themselves in massive numbers, while the remaining third of the reinforcements - lights and mediums, all fast 'Mechs equipped with the new TAG system, formed into lances between their missile-armed cousins. The tattered remains of the Inner Sphere line, bereft of support from their colleagues, began to crack. Fresh Clan reinforcements marshaled by the 'IlKhan' system exploited breaches in the Inner Sphere line, catching the defenders between two fires. The outnumbered Inner Sphere force finally broke and retreated, dozens falling during the rout - which appeared as still more missile and TAG equipped 'Mechs behind the battle line forming to face the charging Clanners.
As the Clan 'Mechs approached the new units awaiting them, the scout 'Mechs sprinted ahead, designating targets for their brethren. The Inner Sphere battle line began to spit massive Arrow-IV volleys, sprinkled here and there with Semi-Guided LRMs. Clan 'Mechs fell in staggering numbers, the huge missiles repeatedly hammering the weakest points of each target. The Clanners reeled under the firepower concentrated on them, and only few had the range to target the swiftly moving targeting 'Mechs that hovered outside the Clan battleline's range. Each that fell, however, was quickly replaced as new scouts arrived from 'Terra'. New classes of lights appeared, mounting little but engines, armor, and the new TAG system.
The Clan master computer attempted to compensate with 'Mechs mounting AMS, but this merely slowed the destruction, as more missiles were sent at fewer targets, always enough to saturate whatever defenses were presented. It was the Clan's turn to flee, and the Inner Sphere battle line pressed onward in their wake.
The Inner Sphere countercharge slowed as they neared the Clan base, the logistical situation now favoring the Clanners. The 'Precentor Martial' switched tactics, advancing at a crawl and sending random lances veering at the solidifying Clan line as a distraction. Each destroyed 'Mech was replaced with a VTOL hauling as many missile reloads as it could. The Inner Sphere players set up a resupply point within spitting distance of the Clan base, with sortie after sortie by the Clan players blown to pieces.
The final attack was signaled by the massed suicidal attacks by every Inner Sphere VTOL on the board. As each was blown out of the sky, fast medium 'Mechs mounting MASC and more conventional weapons sprinted from the Inner Sphere base. Each Clan 'Mech destroyed was also swiftly replaced, but the disparity of firepower pushed the lines steadily back - until the first Inner Sphere 'Mech could target 'Strana Mecha'. Dozens of TAG lines painted the globe, and every 'Mech mounting the massive Arrow IV missiles went into rapid fire. Freed from the punishing attacks that had previously decimated their ranks, the Clans swiftly counterattacked, shredding the light 'Mechs by the score, but for every two the destroyed, another stepped forward to lase the shimmering sphere. Even as the missile-equipped 'Mechs began to detonate the Inner Sphere continued to concentrate all fire on their goal. The volume of fire began to slow, but not quick enough, as the Clan base began to shimmer. More than half the Inner Sphere line was down when the final volley punched through the defenses of 'Strana Mechty'. The flash from the detonating worldlet washed over half the table, and when it cleared there was not a single Clan 'Mech left.
The Balancer looked in contempt at Hartman as he removed the DVD from the holotable. "Your new idea is *rejected*." Hurling the disk like a frisbee, he threw it into an opening in the far wall. Hartman rose with a cry and pursued his life's work. The giant's roar to stop fell on deaf ears as the man skid through the doorway and slid to a halt.
Arrayed along the wall, fading into infinity, were display showcasing examples of unknown Tech. A very few nearest the door were labeled as Level 4, with the numbers increasing with the outlandishness of the devices. Three hundred ton 'Mechs, Naval guass cannons mounted on long, six legged 'Mechs, weapons of mass destruction, 'Warp' Drives, man-portable Arrow IV launchers, total myomer body replacements, and things so strange that he couldn't even guess at their purpose stretched as far as he could see. Hartman was taking it all in when the hand fell on his shoulder.
The Balancer's eyes were cold. "You have seen things you should not have. We must ensure that you do not speak of them." Two guards appeared at his side, grasping his arms. The giant glared at the cowering fanboy and pronounced sentence. "Take him to.. The Pit."
Doug Hartman managed to maintain his composure as the guard dragged him away until they leaned him over the edge of the chasm. He gibbered as he saw the fate that awaited him. There, teeming below him in a cannibalistic frenzy were hundreds - *thousands* - of the most revolting creatures produced by the horrors of natural selection.
The lawyers roared as one as they sighted their prey. Hartman screamed all the way down. |
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