"It is the 31st century and mankind is once again at war. The battlefields of the future are dominated by huge robotic war machines known as Battlemechs. Piloting these awesome weapons of war, are men and women, the elite of the elite, each knowing the next battle could be their last. They are, Mechwarriors."
Kenaar IV is a beautiful but dangerous planet. Lightly populated, covered in thick jungle, shallow oceans and mountain ranges. Once part of the now destroyed Rim Worlds Republic, it remains a mostly forgotten world if it wasn't for its great oceanic wealth and resources.
The coastlines are covered in maritime warehouses, shipping docks and small fishing villages. The interior of the archipelago islands burst with lush but extremely hostile jungle. Carnivorous plants the size of street lamps, swarms of insects that sting like pulse lasers and what the locals call Borova; armoured car sized lizards that sit at the top of the food chain.
Most of the locals avoid the interior jungles and their compounds are protected by laser fencing and watch towers to persuade the wildlife to leave them to their business.
The main industry on Kenaar IV apart from fishing, is coral hauling. A certain species of fast growing and edible coral is native to Kenaar's shallow seas and lagoons. Huge haulers with submersible drones, divers and underwater buggies use low frequency lasers to sheer the tips of the coral reefs and scoop them into special cargo cylinders full of oxygenated sea water, where it can be shipped to shore. It is then transported to one of the two local aerospace strips, before being sent throughout the galaxy to top end hotels, privileged restaurants and the dinner tables of the rich and famous.
The largest continental island is owned by the Desmondian Shipping company and produced the biggest yield of Kenaar Coral on the entire planet. It's warehouses and shipping docks are massive and guarded by a privately funded security division, known as the Atlanteans.
Although Kenaar is a fairly peaceful planet with no major conflicts or wars, it is not above petty rivalries and industrial espionage was not uncommon. The main rival to the Desmondian's was the Northern Shore Shipping Company, or NSSC for short. The two companies run by former childhood friends, are in barely restrained open hostility, with only a short 13km stretch of water between the two.
A number of Desmondian haulers had been sabotaged in recent months, and were left sitting on the reef bed. Their head, Governor Nathaniel Desmond decided to put a stop to the conflict by putting out a job offer across the sector for a paramilitary mercenary company to help retrain his security and act as a deterrent for further NSSC attacks.
And that's where I come in. Captain Ajax Cruise, call sign "Mantis", leader of the 3rd Battalion of Tigerhawks. I'm a mech jockey, and we are always for hire if the price is right. My team was deployed to Kenaar IV two days ago and told by the base foreman to keep an eye out for trouble while we wait for Governor Desmond to arrive from his private villa to meet us. So far it seems an easy job.
My crew and I have set up our equipment in one of the large shipping hangers on the north of the compound. The building is huge, and empty, having once been used to hold and repair one of the haulers that was sank recently. Palms and small tropical shrubs surround the hanger and its out buildings. Oil drums, cargo pallets and boxes are stacked up semi neatly in a dusty, sand courtyard. Surrounded by scrap metal, wire and one of its detached arms, sits an old Buster cargo mech. It's 50 tonne chassis in a state of disrepair, yellow paintwork flaking off in the midday sun and salty sea breeze. Bit of a shit hole really, but I've been in worse places, and the sea view and long sandy beach not 50m away definitely makes up for it.
I suppose I should introduce my lance mates. They sit on packing crates and ammo boxes playing cards while arguing about the best weapon systems to use on their mechs to eliminate the famous Borova lizards. Three of the best mechwarriors I have ever met, and what a bunch of characters.
Melinda Chey call sign "Scarab" sits crossed legged in a combat jump suit folded and tied around her slim waist, a khaki tank top clinging to her ample breasts. She flicks her shoulder length black hair out of her face as she studies her cards, while she subconsciously chews on a set of old Draconis dog tags that hang around her neck. Her skin is tanned and sparkles with sweat in the tropical sun. A beautiful woman, but deadly both in a mech and on foot. Ex-House Kurita Royal guard, she has over 15 years of front line combat experience, while only being 32. She pilots a Hitman 30tonne light mech and is the recon expert of our lance. Her mech has been with her since she left the Draconis military and was granted to her as a reward for her service. As with the code of Bushido, that she still follows, she becomes one with her mech in combat much to the detriment of her foes.
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Across from her sits probably her complete opposite. Rex. A huge brute of a man, six and a half feet tall, built like a boulder and always living up to his callsign, "Bulldog". His head is clean shaven except for a short Mohawk. An orphan and ex farm hand from some forgettable backwater planet, I met Rex about 10 years ago, when a mission to cull some pirate raiders sent me to his planet. After our mechs cleared most of them out we found Rex in a clearing of trees, in an outdated agricultural lumber mech, surrounded by half a dozen Power armoured infantry a pair of armoured cars and a Commando light mech. The only reason he wasn't already dead was because he had the commandos head and one of its weapon arms in the huge claws of his mech and was useing it as a human shield between him and the weapons of the wary pirates. After rescuing him and being told by Rex that he didn't need rescuing, we offered him a job. He now pilots a Hunchback 5N. A modified version of this venerable chassis. It suits "Bulldog" to the ground, the huge Tomodzura Autocannon type 20 that fires 185mm HEAP (high-explosive-armour-piercing) shells being his favourite toy of all time. He isn't the most subtle of warriors, but his bravery and bravado are second to non. Currently he is being reminded by my final lance mate that he should only have 7 cards in his hand not 9.
Telon Vazcaz is a small lean cunning man. Tanned with cold grey eyes, greased back dark hair and a small straggly excuse for a beard on his chin. His clothes are oil stained and full of holes, usually from the thin expensive cigarettes he has hanging from his lower lip. He cackles as he slaps down a perfect hand of Aces and scoops the handful of credit chips in the centre of the make shift table towards him. Melinda raises one eye brow and looks at me, as Rex stairs in amazement. I tap the sleeve on my jacket and quick as a viper Scarab grabs Telon's arm and shakes it, forcing a pair of cards to fall to the deck. Telon grins and ducks just in time to avoid Rex's huge fist from taking his head out. It's no wonder we call him "Goblin". When the team aren't trying to lock him up or punch his head in, Goblin is an excellent Mechwarrior. He pilots a heavily modified Shadowhawk 2D2. Goblin loves to gamble and where he isn't caught cheating, he usually spends his earnings on either his cigarettes or upgrading his mechs systems.
I leave the team to their games and stroll into the the hanger, past the teams mechs and towards my own. A man in dark grey coveralls and a welding visor jumps from a scaffold and walks up to me.
"How's it going Sparkey." I say as the man flips up his visor and wipes his brow with the back of a greasy hand.
He is in his 50's with dark ebony skin, pockmarked cheeks and covered in freckles. Although some might be just dirt.
"All good boss, replaced a couple of bad heat sinks, cleaned out a few snakes that found their way into the ammo bins, the usual."
"Good work as always Tom. You know I hate snakes". I grin and walk over to the base of my mech and examine one of the foot pads and then examine the war machine affectionately.
I've piloted a lot of mechs in my time but this one is definitely my favourite to date.
Fondly branded, "Lucy Lu", my pride and joy was a Anzu 60 tonne heavy mech. Originally made for the Free Worlds League, it is the embodiment of their aggressive combat doctrine.
Standing 15 and a half metres tall and humanoid in shape the Anzu was a huge improvement over a lot of mechs of its time. It had state of the art life support systems, an extra lightweight Endo Steel chassis, multi trac targeting system with TAG laser designator and a Hermes 240XL engine moving it at 64kph on the flat. That's not even mentioning the weapon systems. The left shoulder of the mech houses a 10 tube Long range missle rack, the left arm houses a powerful Imperator Automatic Ultra Class 10 Autocannon from the elbow while the right arm houses a Diverse Optics Sunfire Extended range Medium laser and a Shorttooth Light Particle Projection Cannon.
"Still a beaut to work on boss" Tom said, polishing the foot pad with pride. "When are we seeing some action?"
"We?" I say, giving Tom a smack on the back, " Been a while since you've been out in a mech old man."
He grins smugly. He has been our lance tech chief for nearly 15 years, serving my father before me. From very early on he was christened "Sparkey" after he managed to overload a PPC Capacitor on a Griffon which left his body staticky charged for over a week and turned his hair prematurely grey.
He is a damn good mechanic and easily worth his weight in credits.
"I've got my eye on that Heavy lifter out front.." Nodding towards the one armed Buster out front.
"..couple of days and I will have that up and running."
"Well at this rate this seems more like a holiday, so would be a shame to just leave it there."
"Cap'n!.." It was Rex from the entrance to the hanger, "there is a gyrocopter incoming, looks like a civvy model"
"Maybe it's our employer, finally come to brief us?"
I walk out of the hanger, grabbing my weapon belt and Sunbeam Laser pistol and strapping it to my thigh as I go.