BattleTech Legends: Bred for War by Michael A. Stackpole

Author:Michael A. Stackpole
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Catalyst Game Labs
Published: 2016-09-25T08:00:00+00:00

Charleston, Woodstock

Green Harmony Republic, League Liberation Zone

Climbing in through the hatchway in the back of the Warhammer’s head, Larry Acuff shrugged himself out of the hooded great coat he had worn while waiting to move. He pulled the hatch shut behind him and spun the wheel to lock it into place, then punched the button that would bring the ‘Mech’s engine to life. Vibrations as the engine ignited the fusion fire bled up through his heavy boots and started his cold toes aching.

He folded the coat up and stuffed it into the locker behind his command couch, then squirmed into a seat on the couch’s padded surface. As he plugged his cooling vest into a socket alongside him, the first burst of coolant circulating made him shiver. Larry knew he’d relish the coolness once they engaged the first regiment of Smithson’s Chinese Bandits.

He drew the heavy neurohelmet from an overhead shelf and settled it down onto the padded shoulders of his cooling vest. Hanging down from the helmet’s chin like a wispy beard were four biomed leads. Larry threaded each one through their loops on his cooling vest and clipped them to the monitor patches on his thighs and upper arms. He snapped on his restraining belts, then tightened his helmet’s chinstrap, securing the neurosensors against his skull.

Computer monitors came to life all around him in the tiny cockpit. One reported on engine performance and another fed him all kinds of weather data, but the primary monitor, the one that gave him weapons status and condition remained blank. Dropping his jaw to key his microphone, he said, “Computer on, initiate cross-check.”

“Voiceprint identification complete. Welcome aboard, Hauptmann Acuff. Please proceed with phrase identification and verification.”

Because voiceprints could be faked, BattleMech security was maintained through a two-step process. Each pilot’s voice was verified, then he was asked to repeat a phrase that he personally had programmed into the ‘Mech’s memory. Torturing the pilot or extensive probing of the ‘Mech memory might elicit the phrase and make the ‘Mech vulnerable to theft, but to actually steal a ‘Mech would require an operation of such sophistication that the theft of actual line-unit ‘Mechs was a thing possible only in holovid dramas. “War can look for its victims elsewhere.”

“Verification obtained. Weapon systems coming up now.” The primary monitor filled with an outline of his Warhammer. The extended-range PPCs, one in each arm, reported operational. Next the short-range missile launcher on his ‘Mech’s right shoulder came on line, followed by the medium lasers, machine gun, and anti-missile launcher in the ‘Mech’s torso.

Again he keyed his radio. “Trey Battalion leader all green. Company commanders report.”

All three of his leftenants reported in with fully operational companies. Including his command lance, Larry had forty ‘Mechs in the battalion. Though the troops were all militiamen who had seen little actual combat, they were well drilled and better skilled than most militia pilots. This was because most had grown up piloting AgroMechs on the large farms for which Woodstock was known.

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