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"The threat on the edge of the Galaxy" - (FanFic)
Forum » Misc » Fan Fiction
RaKa 15th May 2014

Joined: 16th Apr 2014
Rank: [FNCY]
Posts: 31
Likes 12



March 9th, 3049. Inside the Conquistador class DropShip "FancyBeer", lies the combined joint forces of two different Mercenary teams. The legendary "Fancymen", mercenaries for hire who once served under a bigger corporation "cReddit", specifically the "XPNDable" division. They were the finest Mechwarriors to ever terrorize the Inner Sphere. The individual pasts of these Mercenaries is unknown, save for a few. They became blacklisted, outcasts of those who employed them, after a fateful day where they were no longer welcome aboard the DropShip. They had served well, fought bravely and pledged loyalty, yet views clashed between the mercenaries and their higher ups. As fate would have it, the bureaucracy of their employers stripped them of their provisions, blacklisted them among other greater corporations, and left them to hang and dry in the Inner Sphere. These embittered yet battlehardened Mechwarriors decided to take matters into their own hands, and formed their own mercenary group for hire, the "Fancymen", taking after their liking of extravagant colors when they charge into battle.

And then there are the "BeerWarriors". Their origins are unknown to all but those within their ranks. Rumors that circulate the Inner Sphere claim that some of their members were ruthless Mercenaries, with no loyalty to any corporation or great house. Others contend they are a relaxed bunch, taking jobs that don't collide with their views. Battlehardened as they may be, they are still formidable pilots. Many among their rank fought in the infamous matches of Solaris VII and came out victorious. Yet the one thing that unites these fine pilots is their unerring love of Beer, or any alcoholic drink for that matter. It is an old vice that originated from Terra, now long forgotten thousands of years into the present time, where stimulants and exotic spices from other worlds have taken the spotlight. Yet these fine pilots enjoy this old Terran vice, and rumor dictates they always inebriate themselves before accepting a job, or charging into battle. Perhaps it is from this that they draw their strength.

Fate would dictate that these two Mercenary groups would encounter each other by chance, on a space bar drifting the asteroid fields in the Sol System. Camaraderie and the centuries long pastime of forging friendships with the aid of drinks forged an alliance of necessity and friendship between these two groups, as the times of the Inner Sphere were troubling. Long gone were the days of Houses hiring Mercenaries by the hundreds to execute and carry their shadow wars. Now it seems the galaxy has fallen under a lull, and activity and conflict is at a minimum. Recovering from the century long succession wars, the galaxy was, oddly, at relative peace. To any other but those who served in military backgrounds, this is a good sign of perhaps, an era of peace. But to those who live on the battlefield, such peace is a sign of a greater storm yet to come. Rumors spread around of abandoned SLDF ships being spotted at the edge of the Periphery, yet such rumors were largely scoffed at and disregarded. Surely they haven't returned from which their IS no returning from? 

... Or perhaps, maybe they have returned.

Unknown to all in the Inner Sphere, there was a threat looming on the horizon, a threat from which the likes the galaxy has never faced before. Born and bred warriors from a culture and origin alien to their own, they are the Clans. Descendants of those who departed centuries ago, when the SLDF fled, promising to return in the future and save the Inner Sphere from itself. Yet this threat would not rear its heard until for another 5 months, as they prepared their invasion forces, an unexpected event occurs that would pit the "FancyBeer" merc team together ...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I tell you man, these Beerwarrior guys? They can hold their own. I've seen their holovids from Solaris VII. 3 time undefeated champion of the Heavy class way back in 3029. That is impressive. They can hold their own."

"Indeed. Tell me Trash, what do YOU think?"

"Think of what? The BeerWarriors? I just told you that"

"No, I mean, of the galaxy, of the Inner Sphere. We've been drifting in space, looking to take up ANY job offered to us. I'm at the point where if they needed a whole PLANET to disappear, I'd be willing to do it, I've got a family to support. Look, I mean this "peace" we seem to be in. Bad as it may sound, peace is harmful to our trade, it means we don't GET ANY JOBS. And I'm willing to bet we're not the only ones with this problem. When is the last time you can say that the Great Houses themselves saw eye to eye on ANYTHING? And now all of a sudden, they stop attacking each other? The threats of war, the insults, the attempts of assassination and subversion all suddenly ... stop. There's something brewing Trash, and I don't like it. Peace on this scale wasn't heard of for a long time. All I've ever known is war. This is foreign to me."

"I understand, but in all things, we've got to adapt. Maybe the galaxy doesn't have a need for Mercs anymore .... Look, I'll take a show of hands among us, we should join these BeerWarrior guys. Not to sound like a penny pincher, but we're better off sharing our resources than spending it all looking for jobs and travelling in space. We could officially join a regiment of one of the Houses, serve as an attachment. A guard if you will. Anything to get us some money"

"Don't bother, we're all of the same page on it anyways, I've talked about it with the guys before hand. That's why I brought us here, to this pub. I wanted your input on it because you've got 20/20 foresight on these matters. And no, we won't serve the House's anymore. I've done my service already, and I DON'T want to return. Too much bureaucracy and pettiness. We can deal with it ourselves. Besides, I almost died once serving under them, they didn't care, no great medal was awarded to me for saving an entire TOWN from a rogue Steiner scout lance. I've had enough of servitude. I'll go over to them now." 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"So, Mr .... RedSail is it? I take it this is your call sign? Look, I've got a proposition to you and I'll cut to the chase. Do you want to combine our forces and work together, as a joint Merc Team? I'm willing to bet you're no stranger to the ... situation ... those of our trade face right now. Jobs are practically nonexistent, and so we face hard times."

"Sure, I can't see why to oppose this, you've got a deal. I like the cut of your guys's jib anyways. I've heard of your ... colorful escapades on the holovids. Charging at an entire regiment wearing Hellblau, Orange and purple colors? A nice statement."

"Great to hear then, now look. I've got an idea right off the bat that could get us some c-bills flowing in. Hell if we're even lucky we could nab some new mechs and sell the scrap. I was thinking, we could perhaps instigate the House's to commence attacking one another. We would then "inform" the grieved party that we witnessed the incident occur, and so happen to be willing to offer our ... services ... to right this wrong. Now, have you heard of the factory plants on Meta VI?  Well ---

And then, they fixated their attention on a commercial which caught their attention, over the humble and bumble of the crowded bar.

"Seeking your fame and fortune? Are you licensed to pilot Mech's? Look no further than ComStar's first official tournament, one on a scale to rival that of Solaris VII's! Mercenary teams across the Inner Sphere are invited to come and try their hand on Terra, of which battles of epic proportions shall take place! Prizes beyond your wildest imaginations! Wait no further, apply to your local ComStar division! Signups are open NOW! First matches start May 18th."

"Friend ... I think we just found our new employment. You up for it?"

"Haha! A Fancymen never shy's away from a challenge. Let's be off, that tournament is going to occur soon and time is of the essence. We've got an Union class dropship, she's not that big, would you mind if we docked her in your Conquistador? "

"But of course, come on in and dock. I feel this will be the start of a fruitful relationship ..."

FIN.

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GG SPUDZ™

IcarusPrime 19th May 2014

Joined: 3rd Mar 2014
Rank: Prime
Posts: 56
Likes 12



I am really tempted to write back. This was an entertaining read. Haha thanks for the tribute Raka.
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RaKa 19th May 2014

Joined: 16th Apr 2014
Rank: [FNCY]
Posts: 31
Likes 12



Hey man feel free to write back  I like it when other people contribute


GG SPUDZ™

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