Just another Battletech story.

*** Author's Note: All trademarked and copyrighted material belong to Catalyst Game Labs and Wizkids Entertainment. I'm just playing in one of my all time favorite universes. ***

Ichiyama/The Factory

Solaris VII

Rahneshire, Federated Commonwealth

27 June 3049

“We’ve got a great fight for you tonight! A challenge match for the top rung of Blue Ladder I in the Open Class. Just weeks before the start of this season’s Tournament of Champions! Reigning champion of the Lyran Sector Shana O’Neill versus hot newcomer Sir MacDonald Blakeney. Catapult versus Marauder! Steiner versus Davion!” The announcer’s voice came over the com as Shana walked her Catapult down the tunnel into the arena floor. She stopped the ‘mech just inside the starting box. Each pilot would wait in the starting boxes on either side of the giant arena while TBC ran ads and some background footage of each pilot.

Shana sighed. She didn’t want to be here, but Blakeney wasn’t giving her a choice. Just like he didn’t give her a choice ten years ago.

***

Port Royale

Sierra

Periphery/Free Worlds League

14 December 3039

The man pointed over in the maintenance bay at the blue Catapult. “Look, boy. You unlock the cockpit and command codes for that ‘mech, and you’ll get a nice reward.”

The thin young man sitting handcuffed in a folding chair looked up at Sir MacDonald Blakeney through eyes nearly swollen shut, “Pound sand up your ass, federat. I’m not going to help you steal my ‘mech out from under me.”

Blakeney picked up a folder from the desk, “Sean O’Neill, apprentice mechwarrior, fifteen years old, though you look younger. No formal education. Grew up as a mascot of the Fifth Oriente Hussars.” He looked up from the folder and smiled, “Too bad they didn’t take you with them.” The Hussars had been redeployed elsewhere in the Free Worlds League three months ago, and weren’t due to be sent back to their garrison post on Sierra for another three months. “Now then. I. Want. That. ‘Mech.”

“I want you to eat shit and die. Damned shame we don’t get what we…”

Blakeney kicked the boy in the head, the spur on his boot cutting a nasty gash in the young man’s cheek.

***

Shana O’Neill gently rubbed the scar on her cheek, it had taken her almost a month to recover from the concussion that kick had given her. Caught up in her memories, she almost missed the green light notifying her that she was to enter the arena.

Ishiyama was the Arena for the Draconis sector on Solaris. They liked fast brutal matches. Shana was an artist with LRMs. If she got the chance, she’d make the Dracs happy tonight.

This wasn’t Shana’s first time in Ishiyama, but it was Blakeney’s. She turned right at the first junction and started the sixty-five ton bird-like mech sprinting up the ramps to the upper level of the arena. Blakeney’s Marauder wasn’t the standard model. It looks like he had his techs do a combination of the Marik and Davion variants. He’s replaced the dorsal autocannon and the PPCs with Magna Mk III heavy lasers. Still inefficient when it comes to heat, but no ammo to worry about either.

Shana made quick work of getting to the top of the Grand Gallery. A gigantic opening inside the arena over twenty meters tall, over a hundred wide and several hundred yards long. She checked her sensors out of habit, but magres was useless in the Factory. The place was made out of ferroconcrete and rebar.

The com-channel for the producers lit up, Shana keyed it live. “O’Neill! There is another ‘mech in the arena! I repeat, there is another ‘mech in the arena!”

“What kind?”

“A Jagermech.”

Shana didn’t know anyone who was a contender that used a Jagermech. “Wait a second! There was a Jagermech in the Blue side Launch Bay.” Which meant…

She stepped on the pedals and the Catapult went up and to the right. Shana spun her ‘mech around in mid-air and smiled as her luck held. The Jagermech was just coming to the top of the ramp, barely two hundred meters away.

As Shana’s ‘mech landed, the doors on the shoulder missile pods came open. In the cockpit, Shana waited for the green reticle to stop blinking as she held it over the heart of the Jagermech. Half a heartbeat later, the reticle glowed bright green.

“Hard lock and fire.” Thirty long range missiles erupted from the Catapult’s shoulder pods. In the brief few moments of flight time, three lost lock and slipped past the target. The other twenty-seven slammed into the torso of the Jagermech. Exploding missiles splintered craters across the chest of the big ‘mech and despite the sledgehammer blow of the missile volley, the pilot kept control of the ‘mech.

The Jagermech’s torso rotated towards Shana and the twin autocannons in both arms opened fire. Both of the light autocannons hit the port shoulder pod and one of the standard autocannons splintered a chunk of armor from the port side of her ‘mech’s torso.

Again, Shana used her Catapult’s jump capability to move sideways and maintain range with the Jagermech. And again when she landed, another salvo of thirty missiles leapt towards her target. Both flights were dead on target, and this time all thirty hit the ‘mech. What was left of the cratered torso armor crumpled and blew apart as the fresh volley came down on the Jagermech. A few missiles made it through the armor and exploded deep in the torso, destroying the big ‘mech’s gyroscope.

Shana watched the ‘mech fall over onto it’s face. You could always tell a gyroscope hit by the way the ‘mech fell. Unmistakeable.

That’s when Shana got caught not paying attention.

The first heavy laser hit the back of the starboard missile pod, the second hit the right rear armor of the Catapult and if it had been a PPC instead of the laser, the fight might have been over right there. The third laser hit the right leg of Shana’s ‘mech.

Red lights started blinking on the status monitor. Right pod armor was down by almost two-thirds, right rear flank armor was gone, and her right leg armor was down by just under half. Shana realized that Blakeney must be roasting in that cockpit after firing all three of those big lasers simultaneously, while she was completely comfortable in hers. The Marauder was never designed for heat-efficiency. The Catapult was.

Shana turned her ‘mech to face Blakeney’s. She stepped on the pedals to accelerate the bird-like ‘mech to over sixty kilometers per hour. She had to close the range to make her idea work. At one hundred meters, the four medium lasers built into the Catapult’s torso came to life. One carved armor from the Marauder’s left leg. Two more melted over half of the armor from the left arm of the big seventy-five ton ‘mech. The last cut a furrow along the side of Blakeney’s cockpit.

In return, Blakeney fired everything he had. The dorsal laser missed, but the paired heavy and medium laser in the left arm took all the remaining armor off of the Catapult’s right leg and chewed into the myomer muscle of the leg. The pair in the right arm sheared off most of the armor on the left front flank of Shana’s ‘mech.

The infrared sensor in Shana’s ‘mech was showing a huge plume on the Marauder. Shana was still running cool, which combined with her skill let her keep the smaller ‘mech upright after taking the strikes from Blakeney’s Marauder.

“Rotten sonofabitch.” Shana stepped on the jump pedals again and the bird-like ‘mech responded. The Catapult rose up right above the boiling hot Marauder and then came crashing down. Death from above.

The Catapult’s right leg shattered on impact with the Marauder. The left leg’s foot came crashing down on the cockpit and Sir Blakeney’s scream as he was crushed to death went out over the networks live. The Catapult fell to it’s right side and stayed there.

***

It would take a couple of weeks of work to get Diana back on both her feet again, but Shana wasn’t worried. She’d still be able to compete in the Open class tournament. She took the opportunity at the aftermatch press conference to come out. And she told the story of Sir MacDonald Blakeney and what he’d tried to accomplish. Two weeks before the match, Blakeney had found her. He threatened to out her as being trans unless she gave him a match for her rung on the tournament ladder. She also told the story about Blakeney and what he’d done back on Sierra.

The response was a lot better than what Shana had feared. Some had went off, calling her a freak. But most just accepted her for who she was and what she was. Shana O’Neill, mechwarrior.

*** Author's Note: I rushed this to try and make it under the wire for the contest. This story completely told might be a full novel. I hope the brevity doesn't discount from the fun. ***



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