Phoenix Lancer Garrison Post Fifteen
30 September 3079
The conference room of the post was occupied by some very concerned folks. Major McCormack was present as well as her Exec, Chief Warrant Officer Shan Yoder. On the other end of the video call was the Colonel- who was a touch bothered by what they found.
“… so you are saying these guys are possibly the Not Named?” The Colonel asked. “Rather farfetched, Les. But then, given what the hell has happened the last few years, what’s one more thing?”
Leslie tapped the patch on the conference table. “What I am saying is that these raiders appear to be so. Star League era style cooling vests, uniforms and patch identifiers… some of the machines we captured carry serial numbers dating to then. The Sentinel we captured is one of those. So was the Thug…” She paused. “Either someone has more money than sense, on the level of a House or Comstar, there is very little possibility this is not a legitimate thought. These are remnants or descendants of that command, of that Clan.”
The colonel was silent on the other end of the call. “And once the Clans find out, we are going to be beset by a ton of insane Clansmen looking to finish the job started two hundred years ago…”
“Or others, seeking fame, fortune or renown,” McCormack finished. “No matter the who or the why they come, they will come. And Death will be along for the ride for certain.”
Shan Yoder spoke up then. “Stupid games get stupid prizes… And I have plenty to give.” The MechWarrior pulled a cigarette from a pack in a uniform blouse pocket. “If they are Wolverines or Minnesota Tribe or whatever… they weren’t that tough; good guns only go so far…”
The Colonel shifted his gaze in the video call to Shan when Leslie spoke before he did. “Maybe so, Shan… but not everyone is tactically inept. Sean is good and that Kurita combat group gave him a thumping… As the saying goes- Any Given Sunday.”
Shan just grumbled around her now-lit cigarette.
The Colonel shook his head slightly. “I will have Hartman sent out with his Dragoons to bolster you- what you fought was a Heavy Battle Company by our standards… so I suspect the next one might be as heavy or more. If they are who they say they are, the 331st was a Royal division. I expect serious weight coming your way along with possible armor.
Bravo is up for Reaction Duty and the armored regiment is currently standing to. Second Mech Battalion is being constituted right now and its Provisional Company is solidifying. Captain Biancone is currently making sure all his ducks are in a row before taking over as its Battle Company Commander. If they are needed, Mike said they can be loaded on Leopards and there in no time.”
“While the help is appreciated, its not necessary. And Sean’s Company?” Leslie inquired, knowing the answer but asking anyway.
“Charlie is about 75% repaired. Sean is still recovering from his injuries- cracked ribs are not a fun thing to function with.” The Colonel replied. “I mentioned he might need to come off medical leave and after the typical swearing, he asked when. I told him I honestly didn’t know… but be ready when I call.”
Shan giggled. “Oh his poor techs… At least he’ll make sure they are compensated with whiskey.”
The Colonel smiled. “Indeed. I think the techs like working on his company, if only for the whiskey he gives out. As for the extra help… your company didn’t come out completely unscathed… DJ can meet whatever is coming and give you that much extra time though. I fully expect them to try and rescue their troops…”
“As do I, “ Leslie replied. “The five we recovered are doing better; even the one Ranger Calderon’s troop knocked out. The broken jaw appears to be setting properly. I will request some Combat Armor support though- if they break through to the camp, they will be needed.”
“Request approved,” The Colonel said. “National Guard troops are also mobilizing right now and Civil Defense bunkers are coming online. I’ve no idea how bad this is going to go- so many opportunists out there…. This not going sideways is near impossible.”
“Agreed. Centaurus has managed to avoid nonsense for too long…” McCormack mused. “What a way to get on a bullseye.”
“No kidding. See to your troops; Hartman should be contacting you soon.”
Major DJ Hartman scanned the company feeds from his Atlas. While enroute to Camp Fifteen, they had gotten a report of unidentified mechs on the ground heading for the camp. Seeing an opportunity to get some training in too, he ordered the company to prepare for Drop insertion.
After a bit of complaints were fielded and dealt with, the men and women of his company quickly prepped for Drop… which for the first time, actually went flawlessly. No one augered in, no leg damages, no nothing. And that…. Was a worry.
“Meh,” He said around the cigar in his mouth. “We can have a clean drop once in a while….” Tapping the transmit key, he hollered out. “Alright Delta! Form up and lets meet these fucksticks… By the numbers and make sure you pick targets. These guys are the Real Thing.”
Having fought Word of Blake and Clan troops, Hartman held no illusions as to how good or bad this new enemy was. The Colonel informed him of what McCormack had faced and what was discovered. And if it was true, there was plenty reason to worry.
The Not Named, as the handful of Bondsmen still in service to the Lancers explained, were War Criminals to the Clans. Capable of heartless acts, eater of sibkos and generally… not worth letting live. Once DJ got through the rhetoric and hyperbole, he figured out the hate the Clans had for them might be due to beliefs. Hell, the fights between Warden and Crusader factions were known about… and the animosity held against the former Clan smacked of the same.
At least to him. Didn’t mean he wasn’t taking them seriously though…
Within an hour of forming up, contact was made. Drone footage revealed some heavy weight opponents in the form of a Highlander, King Crab and what looked like a Spartan. This was going to be a messy fight; Hartman knew he had the edge in maneuverability but the other side had him in weight. And maybe firepower. The Marauders in his command were refits- Light Gauss dorsals gave them a range advantage but with one of the other two Assault Class machines in his force strictly Close Quarters, a range fight might be a problem on the Staying power. Light Gauss just didn’t have a punch big enough to worry about when you had assault machines.
Still no vehicles though; where were they?
Ah well… he didn’t plan on living forever. “Alright… lets show dese guys who they are facin’…”