Next day Ana approached Captain Evans.
"Captain, You requested I review my girls.
I've got the writeups for you"
she held out several sheets of paper, Less than expected, but more than she'd wanted  to write.

"My schedules open right now, if you want me to stick around and answer any questions you may have"
This message was last edited by the player at 19:14, Fri 23 May 2014.

"40 tons of death and destruction, carrying two Longbow LRM-10, three Intek Medium Lasers and piloted by the luckiest guy in town. Name's Donovan, but, I'm called Lucky..."

Helia makes a small appreciative noise. "That's a solid amount of firepower. How is it on mobility?"

She pauses, as though trying to remember something, then realizes she hasn't introduced herself. "My name is Helia by the way. I am, or was, I suppose, a cadet here. Now it appears that I will be deploying with the Valkyries."
This message was last edited by the player at 03:16, Sat 24 May 2014.

Still laying in his hammock, rocking back and forth, Lucky shakes hands with Helia.

"Pleased to meet you Helia, congratulations on your graduation and being hired by the Valkyries...a decent enough unit, not as good as the Traxxian Light Lancers, but, if you settle for them guys...I mean gals, power to you."

Going back to her question, "Well, he's not the fastest thing out there, but, he can jump 120 meters...Honestly, I don't need to move too quickly into a fight, I'm fire support...and I don't need to run away from a fight too quickly, this baby has some armor on it, and I'm adding another half ton."

Handing over the new updated schematics of his Whitworth, now labeled the Whitworth WTH-1L (for Lucky), that he had drawn up to Helia.

Looks her up and down, "Now that I've shown you mine, perhaps you should show me yours?" Gives her the doe-eyed rogue Irish look he's been practicing...

Helia cocks an eyebrow at Lucky's somewhat backhanded compliment, but decides that he probably meant well. She takes the schematics and gives them a quick once over.

"Hm. Not bad. Nine volleys should be plenty for any tactical engagement, though you may find yourself feeling a bit short on strategic endurance. Even so, you still have the lasers to fall back on."

Helia hands them back over, as Donovan's double entendre sails past and into the sunset. "My machine is just over there." She motions towards one of the bays near the other Valkyrie mechs.

Though it was clearly of the same lineage as the other Power Loaders that he had seen in the past, Helia's ride looks like it's still under construction. There are huge, gaping cavities in the torso and legs as well as smaller open ports along the arms.

Noticing his confusion, Helia continues, "Technically it's just a regular X-3, but as you can see, it's definitely non-standard. I was lucky enough to be allowed to serve as a test pilot for some of Omni's newest developments. My mech weighs in at 25 tons when fully loaded, but a full 10 and one quarter tons of it's weight can be re-configured easily. Really, the only thing that separates it from our newest models is some extra engine power and armor." Her expression softens as she speaks, it's clear that Helia has a great deal of fondness for her mech.

She turns back, smiling, "I know it sounds foolish, but I really can't wait to get into the field and see what it can do."

"Modular stuff, that's pretty high tech. Kinda of like a Frankenstein, don't need a Large laser, pull it off and drop on a SRM, etc...Drop in a new computer brain, Abby Normal..(chuckles), get it Abby Normal...abnormal...from Young Frankens....never mind."coughs....

{Reference note: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yH97lImrr0Q }

"Anyways, I'm sure you'll do fine, just trust in your lance commander and comrades. Don't try to stand toe to toe with anything heavier than you and lastly, here's a bit of luck." Donovan hands her a silver clasp pin of a 4 leaf clover.

"Maybe after your 1st taste of the rockem sockem, we'll have a whiskey and tell lies about our heroic deeds."

Lucky leans back and starts humming again, "Putting on the Ritz."

[Reference note: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w1FLZPFI3jc ]

(3 weeks ago...)
Yelana Petrakov, was the Senior Duty Officer at the Haven Starport.  The coming and goings of commerce traffic as well as exploratory expeditions to survey the asteroid belt was normal uneventful.  Events in system had taken a turn for the worse, and it was time to move it up the chain of command to have someone act events before they got out of hand and expensive.

The was a direct line to Omni Towers, but she was dutiful and loathed to use it with out cause.  This probably qualified.

"Hello... Operator?  Patch me through to Pandora..."

---

Today...
Time had passed well for the Freelancers.  Injuries from healed, battle damage was repaired, purchases were made, and some installed improving the machines of war, other upgraded their rides to heavier and more fearsome machines of mayhem.

While it was a pleasant change of pace, that allowed for recovery, it didnt pay the bills and was not something they wanted to linger on doing for much longer.  Under these circumstances, it was not unwelcome when Margaret requested the presence of the Merc leaders to gather.

"Good afternoon Gentlemen, thank you for attending the meeting.  This is Yelena Petrakov, the Duty officer in charge of the Starport.  She has a problem, that has been cleared to assign to the Freelancers to resolve.  Yelena... This is Steiner, Commander Tarkin, Commander McMurphy, and of course Commander Karkoff...", Margaret makes a gesture for Yelena to step forward and address the merc leaders.

"Right.  Hopefully youve been enjoying your time on Omni, and you're rested.
 I've been monitoring a problem, for a few weeks now and i've determined that something needs to be done, before it escalates into an expensive problem.

 We've been surveying the asteroid field, for promising sites to set and begin mining operations.  During a routine survey it was found that pirates seemed to have taken root in the field.  In active so far... continued observational sorties have concluded that they've been fortifying and stockpiling materials for operations... what sort of operations can not be said, with out closer inspection of the facilities.

Conditions for your operations will be... rather unique.  The mass of the asteroid is not sufficient to sustain an atmosphere, and is airless... Gravity will be light... The airless environment will have your Heat sinks efficiency functioning at 50% efficiency normal.  The hazards of the vacuum of space will make even light damage potentially crippling.

We can provide you with protective suits to protect your mechwarriors from the dangers of decompression, though... they may impede operations of your mechs.  We can not 'force' you to wear these suits, but we believe it would be to the benefit of your pilots to do so."

This was going to be a complicated operation.  With any such operations... there were numerous questions to be asked and answered before they executed the operations.
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:08, Sat 24 May 2014.

In reply to Donovan O'Brien (msg # 323):

Helia gives Donovan a dubious look as he stumbles through a reference to a movie more than one thousand years old.

"Thank you for the advice, I~ Oh..." Helia takes the pin, clearly not quite sure how to respond or what to do with it.

"Well, thank you. That sounds like a uh... a good plan." Helia leaves Don to his humming, blushing slightly.

"Space operations...haven't one them in awhile.  Have you been able to get a read on the enemy forces?  Space-suited infantry?  Mechs?  Aero assets that could tear us a new one?" asked Luc while he sized up how much itel she was willing to give out and if she was holding anything back from them.

Kurt went for a run around the compound.  After all the missions, and being cooped up on the dropship, it was nice to get back into working out.  It gave him the chance to clear his head and think.  And boy, did he have some thinking to do.

He replayed the meeting with Pandora over and over again in his mind.  He was from Coventry, and the boardroom and the battlefield went hand in hand in Lyran space.  He wasn't surprised by her tactics.  Hit them between the eyes with all the negative items you can possibly scrub up, then sweep them away.  How nice of her to do that.  And, on top of that, offering Eden tech at cost.  Even their X-Series "Power Loaders" were up for sale.

Of course, that meant that if the unit needed replacement parts, or repairs, that they would have to come back to Omni for future "help."  Ceres Metals plays a similar game with the Vindicator.  Omni may be his employer, but Kurt couldn't shake the feeling that this was right out of the Spazz-dealer playbook: get them in; get them hooked; then you own them.

Kurt wouldn't bite at that tasty offering.  He was too cautious for that.  He picked up a spare CASE system - they were too handy at preventing his death to not want a spare, besides, that was Star League tech, not Omni tech.  It might be splitting hairs, outside of their unit CASE was little more than a campfire story in the Inner Sphere, but it was a compromise he could live with.

His run took him past a hanger where 'Mechs, not Loaders, were being displayed.  A completely refurbished Valkyrie stood there, gleaming in the bright day sun.  Kurt slowed down and checked on it.  It was for sale, and the cadets working on it were willing to not only accept his Commando in trade, but would strip out the advanced tech and re-configure the Valkyrie to his specifications, for a fee.  Armageddon Incorporated had fared better than most other units, and he was receiving an increased pay for his new rank of Captain.

It would cost him most of his savings, but the extra armour that the heavier 'Mech offered would be comforting, and the jump jets would make up for the slight reduction in speed.  The weapons load-out would be almost identical to what he currently enjoyed in his Commando, just with a slightly different placement.

Kurt was really glad he had decided to go for a run.

A few days later, Kurt returned to his room from more exercise, and grabbed a shower.  His comm beeped and he saw that they had a mission briefing in 30.  He arrived just in time, his hair still damp.  He listened intently as one of the worst case scenarios for a 'Mech jockey was played out.  Low gravity and zero Atmo meant death was an even more present danger than in a normal firefight.  Space suits can help, but even a small hit could still cripple an Atlas.

Kurt recalled his time at the Nagelring, when his cadet corps had been deployed in Stingers so that they could acclimate to piloting in such conditions.  He remembered that one cadet, Sorenson was his name, pushing the Stinger's jump jets too hard, only to stick the landing and snap the right leg clean off, smashing the cockpit into the ground and depressurizing it.  The seals of his space suit held, but he still cried like a baby while the rest of the corps moved to get him out.

Kurt was brought back to the present, his comm beeped again, his "Super Commando" was ready and was being dropped off at Hanger Seven within 20 minutes.  Perfect, Kurt thought, just in time for field trials.

Helia splits her time between practicing in the simulators, triple checking her module selections, and pacing anxiously around the hangar as she waits for the order to mobilize.

"Combat in a vacuum, low gravity, this is going to be... unique." she murmurs to herself.

Joaquin stared as the " Duty Officer " laid out her problems as they were. Taking a long drag on the Cuban and kicking his feet up on the conference table.

The situation was nothing new to the War Dog. Hell if a mission didn't come with a few added complications nowadays, he almost wondered if it was worth the hassle. Everything was a walk in the park after firing on your own House Units and walking out as the Captain-General declares you an outlaw. Joaquin had always walked the path of the mercenary.... it wasn't anything new to him. Hell honor and duty.... all that crap had washed him over years ago. A fat check and a little fame..... that's what put him in the pilot's seat now. Or maybe it was his ego..... no one could really tell.

He drew one of his knives from his coat and placed his other hand's palm down firmly on the table. He began the ritualistic Five Finger Fillet or Knife Game routine he had done a million times before. Gradually increasing the tempo as he made his way through the complex web Joaquin recalled by will at this point.

He turned and looked to the woman, without missing a beat to the pattern.

" Unique is an understatement..... Mechs ain't meant for all that space stuff. That's what Marines are for. This Low-G Combat shit is their cup of tea. Asteroid Fields and Pirates don't seem like that too uncommon a problem. There's got to be a bigger piece to the puzzle you ain't told us.... "

Cortez didn't even bat an eye in her direction as he focused on the knife in his hand and seemed to get more complex in his patten, as the blade weaved in an out of the spaces between his fingers. One would almost wager he was imitating Bishop from Aliens with his precision.

" This sure as hell ain't my first rodeo with Pirates.... most of them can't even lace up their boots. But if they've fortified their position as you said, just what the hell kind of resistance are we expecting to take on? Seems to me they knew something was on that asteroid.... I really don't like surprises..... "

He stabbed the knife down in between his Middle and Ring fingers and drew a glaze in the woman's direction.

" So what's the kick Princess? "

He drew another drag from his Cuban and removed the knife and placed back in its sheath within the recesses of his coat.

Joaquin had spent the last few weeks prior adjusting to the unit. His transfer had been in some ways what he had expected. New faces.... new routines.... the same old song and dance. However, he was surprised upon his first sight into these "Power Loaders" a few jocks piloted. They were a sight he'd never seen before. This from a guy who had just served as part of "Snord's Irregulars." He took note of some of the advanced tech the unit was able to muster and formulated a few ideas of this own. In due time, Joaquin would have to see which of them would come to fruition. For now he spent his free time in the simulators honing his skills with the fellow pilots and doing the routine maintenance on his Spider himself. All things he was accustomed to doing. He spent what few other minutes outside of that in his quarters reading and catching up on current event via HPG.

The mission was green lighted, and there was little to do but start it's execution.

Mechs and the mechwarriors that piloted them into combat were loaded onto Leopards.

The Leopards were oddly configured.  The Aero Bays were refitted for mech operations, and the Horizontal 'flat bed' launch configuration seemed specific to use for lighter mechs {40 tons or less}.  Stacked on top of each other as if they were in a two tier bunk bed.  The lower one were catapulted into space feet first, towards the target.  The top mech would then be lowered down into position and ejected to follow the lead elements into combat.

While it was slower to deploy, it would allow a full company of Power Loaders to deploy.

Arms Inc, Iron Swords and the Valkyries were on one drop ship.

The rest of the freelancers were following in on a Mule.

The Leopard would execute combat deployment, ensuring a dropzone for the mule to deploy, allowing the rest of the Freelancers to deploy was the plan.

Everything went as planned.  The drops were made on the darkside of the Asteroid and unopposed.  The Mule had landed and the rest of the Freelancers deployed in good order.  Time was not their friend.  Every moment they spent unegaged, was time the op force would have to dig in.

---

The Mercs were forming up and preparing to advance when an open broadcast transmission was picked up.

"Greetings... to what event do we credit your arrival on our little planetoid?

 Had I known we were having company today i would most certain have prepared a more appropriate reception."
This message was lightly edited by the GM at 15:03, Wed 28 May 2014.

When they landed Anastacia took care to ensure the valkyries were all on their toes, paying attention to their surroundings as  the mule descended to deploy the remaining troops.

Nothing happened, and as theyw ere forming up, the Dragon heaved a sigh of relief.
At least we didn't have to drop into combat this time around she thought to herself, though this wasn't much better, and the blasted space suit was a bloody nuisance.

Ana resolved to get access to the pod technology as soon as she got the chance.

just as that passed her mind, the comms crackled and some unknown man piped up about velcoming commitees and whatnot.

She waited a moment to se e if anyone else were saying anything before she replied to him.
"nothing much really, just here to serve an eviction notice, If you pack up your toys and leave, we won't have to force the issue."

ana started firing up her guns, preparing for battle.
unit comms: "you heard him ladies, prepare to bring the heat"

"Now why would we do that...

 After spending so much effort to establish a forward base to mine the asteroid fields, why would we just 'pack our toys and leave'.

 We are after all the first souls on this rock, and have claimed it for our own.

 Standard space scavenger rules apply.

 First come... first serve.  Finders keepers, and all that.

 Now why dont you stand down, and we can discuss this like civilized folks over a drink or something."

Helia felt some apprehension during the drop. There weren't any simulation programs for this. Even so, it wasn't much different from coming down from any other power assisted jump. Helia feathered the controls on the jump jets, landing adroitly.

She could see her lance mates and the rest of the battlegroup fanning out to cover the dropzone and moved to take her position.

The muted thump of her mech's footfalls broke up the eerie silence of space. Scan left, scan right. Check sensors. All systems green. Scan left, scan right, check sensors...

Helia was shocked into the now as the comms crackled to life, sending the pirate's voice echoing through the cockpit. She gripped the control sticks tightly during the following exchange, rapidly scanning the horizon for any incoming threats.

Flicking open the unit comms, she responds:
"Affirmative. Weapons and actuators are green. Ready to engage."

With a deep breath, Helia prepares to enter her first battle.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:28, Thu 29 May 2014.

She activated her comms once more, replying to his statement.
"unfortunately you are within Omni territory and we have been hired to remove your presence, I am not personally invested in how this is done, My job will be over once you vacate the system"

A moment of silence before  she activated her comms again.
"I am not interested in murdering your people though, when we disable your mechs, I will permit you the option of having other warriors remove them from the field of battle, no reason to throw away your lives needlessly!"

Even the pirates respected the dangers poised by the vacuum. A sobering thought, only amplified by the relatively 'civil' terms of engagement. As the comm chatter died down, and silence settled into the cockpit, Ziro murmured a quiet offering to the tattered green feather that served as a good luck charm hanging from the weapons console; then thumbed across the small, thread-worn patch of a stylized cartoon monster, that served as back-up good luck (the feather had been known to fail at times).

Ill-at-ease, he muttered to no-one in particular:

"That drink sounded so good too..."

"Right.  We do this the hard way.

 Civil... but hard.  Mount up boys."

With that... the future of the planetoid fell into the balance of how the engagement goes.

"I guess that means we'll have to force you out.
Too bad, I think we could have been friends"
Anastacia sighed, then switched to unit comms.
"Alright everyone, you heard the man, they won't be leaving this rock anytime soon unless we force them, guess it can't be helped!"

It was impressive how such a hostile environment could lead to civil rules of engagement.

The Fighting lasted only a minute or so, but was impressively fierce.  Decompression was taking it's toll on both sides, and the weight of numbers was falling in the mercs favor, of this there was no doubt.

As combat was called to a stop, from the withdrawing Op Force, the field was the mercs to keep.  Both sides were quick to remove the damaged and disabled from the field.  The Merc scouts were quick to scout out the battlefield, but found the elusive traces of a bigger problem erased from the presence of the field.

Decisive victory though they may have accomplished the battle for the nameless planetoid was not over.  The data collected, the battle over, the field they had fought so hard for, was now useless.  It was time to fall back, lick their wounds and work out their next move.

The Mule class dropship that was serving as their mobile repair station landed under the safety of the merc guns.  The mechwarrirs, assisted by the small crew of eden techs began work on their mechs.

The Eden techs got much practice flushing out the frost and balancing the environment of limbs that had decompressed in the violent fight.

Medical care was given out to the injured, and with the help of a stim patch or two, all of the mercs would be deemed fit for duty the next day.  The only mech with lingering issues, was Odin's Commando's.  The badly damaged left leg had blown every actuator in the limb, and the best the techs could do was jury rig some general purpose X-3 actuators to function in the commando.  Not quite a perfect fit, the actuators would function well enough on the mech that there would hopefully be no serious issues on the mech's legs.  'Running' was strongly advised against.
This message was lightly edited by the GM at 16:14, Tue 24 June 2014.

Regina flipped the welder to 'off' and took a short break from patching armor on her Valkyrie.  With a yawn and catlike grace to stretching out her body to alleviate the kinks of low gravity space.  It was a simple armor patch, and as such, she was expected to do the work herself... the entire one and a quarter tons of armor...  It was a good thing gravity was so light, and she could manage the work with only a little assistance to move the great slabs of metal in place to weld on.

Regina was rather pleased with the recent fight.  It was a novel battle, that she had found 'fun'.  The lack of munition reloads were a modest concern, but not one she really considered crippling.  They had managed to defeat the op force quickly and with minimal munition expenditure.

There wasnt talk of boosting off yet.  So obviously she would get to enjoy deploying out there again.

She began to hum a happy tune, another added benefit of the light gravity was the stress on her back, was much eased as her slightly top heavy nature became more buoyant.  She could get to like this space combat thing!

Jennifer's Raven was in very good shape, no damage, and no ammo expended.

It was actually a rather cowardly state to be found in, when others were showing the wear and tear of brutal combat.  She felt bad, she truly did.

At the moment she was posted on picket duty and making use of the Raven's greater range of detection to stand sentry.  On the off chance that there was a counter attack, they wouldn't be caught unaware.

As she sat there with the vastness of space all around her, she felt rather small.  To take her mind off this she began the work of correlating all the information the mercs had gathered.

'What exactly was here, that justified the deployment of a battalion of mechs to slug it out with one another under such harsh conditions?'

Jen bit her lip thoughtfully as the big picture slowly started to piece together for her.

Luc's now broken in X-3a needed only a minimal amount of patching from the Commando's attentions.  He was done with his repairs quickly and he knew that neither Raith or Jen had sustained any damage from the fight leaving only Regina who took a beating from the Annihilator.  He decided to drop by her before taling to Jen about what he Raven had been able to detect about the craters.

Pushing off from his bay he floated over the the happy-go-lucky Regina and her perky floating assets, "Good job out there Reggie.  How is your baby?"

"Fun Fun Fun!", Regina perks out in a chit chatting manner.

Regina blinks and thinks about it a bit.  She gropes both her breast in front of Lucius and seems thoughtful about it for a moment.

"They're lighter... I think fuller too.
 Sorta... wierd... like they're filled with helium?", Regina looks up and gives Lucius a quirky look wondering why Burner was curious about her babies.

"OH...
 Wait... you meant...", Regina thumbs over her shoulder at her shoulder, and seems shamelessly unabashed.  The girl had no modesty or shame.

"She's fine.  Didnt even decompress.  Just had a ton... maybe a little over a ton of armor scraped off.  Though on this planetoid... maybe a little under a ton?  Meta physics... wierd.  We deploying for another fight then.", Regina comments not as a question but a rather observant statement of fact.