The Wanderers Part I: Two Warriors, One Unlikely Encounter

By: Flocco Wessos

It was a warm spring night; the battlefield was called Trainstation by the locals who lived near by. The Madcat was nearly out of streak SRMs, heavily damaged, he fired off the one ER PPC in his one remaining arm. The opposing Madcat was not nearly as damaged; he had closed the other in using the technique aptly named "Circle of Death." The both fired of their PPCs, though the damaged Madcat missed, the other's PPC light up the dark sky, blowing off the last arm of his opponent. The battle was now fiercer than ever now. As they both realized that the battle had already been won. Through a long battle, he had proven himself a victor. The de-armed Madcat opened his communications port. "Ok that is enough, I announce my defeat." "What? Is that it? Have I proven myself able enough?" The Comm port stayed calm for many moments. The victor asked himself many times during that period if this recruiter had even heard his last transmission. After all, Comm ports have been known to malfunction at times. Then he proceeded to check his own Comm systems; all were working normally. Suddenly a transmission came through. "Yeah, you’re in. Proceed to the offices for further instructions." Traveling at cruising speed in his Madcat, he got to the southern end of the facility in five clicks. The docking bay was wide open accepting him with open arms. Carefully maneuvering the Madcat, he backed the 75-ton behemoth into the docking bay. Once at a full stop at the designated point for the 'Mech he shrugged a sigh of relief. Gently taking of the heavy neurohelmet was a daunting task for even the most elite of his class. He detached every wire with care, as if each one was the softest precious metal found only on the most remote moons and planets on the border of the InnerSphere. Though the neurohelmet was built tough to last most cockpit explosions, it is one of the most expensive pieces of equipment in the BattleMech. Finally, he shut down the last of the 'Mech systems, first the gyros, then the weapons, then finally the fusion reactor. Opening the cockpit hatch was the last thing he had to do, then he would hand back the neurohelmet, the 'Mech's key, back to the owners who had originally leased it to him for the excersise. After closing the cockpit, he headed over to the only office in the bay, a small scruffy office near the entrance. He knocked; no one was there, so he simply left the helmet on the paper-covered desk. Walking through a rather empty hallway filled with synthetic plants and ancient halogen lighting, he arrived at the waiting room. He would wait for the arrival of this recruiter, knowing only his voice by which he would be able to identify him. Waiting for the arrival of this person would take time, as other people would want to be tested. The waiting room was in a slightly dim environment with a great view of the battlefield. The train-station to the far right was the only means of transportation to the space depot, besides BattleMechs of course. The days were hot and the nights warm for the most part of the year. This made for additional required heatsinks for less skilled warriors. The room was void of other people except one. Down in the corner of the room was sitting a slightly shorter man who was better built than him. He wore a long brown trench coat and his face in the shadow thanks to the windowless corner. He did not know him, but felt he would soon enough. Taking a closer look, he noticed a patch with a word on it. Comp...Compr...he couldn't make out the rest. Thinking, he could not come up with a word to complete the five letters he could make out. Then, the recruiter's voice came onto the Comm, "MechWarrior Compromise, please report to the 'MechBay and choose your BattleMech for the Trial of Entrance." "So that's his name! Compromise..." he thought. Easily doubting that was his real name, he thought about what his real name could be. Halted, he came to a revelation that he would never come up with it. At least he knows what he calls himself. A fusion engine started up; the battle had started. Looking through the window he could see he had picked the same 'Mech he had, though fully repaired. Thankfully, there was a pair of binoculars where Compromise had been sitting. Was Compromise watching him when he was battling? He picked up the binoculars, looked through the window towards the battlefield. Using the digital zoom, he was able to see the recruiter. To the right was the train-station track being followed by Compromise in his Madcat. Only a few more minutes until the battle would commence. No longer could be heard the thump of the Madcat's foot steps into the ground at dawn. It was amazing how many hours have past. The planet was rather small, only a few thousand kilometers in diameter. The made the days short and the year fly by fast. They never did name the planet anything, no need; it was too small and insignificant. Resources were very sparse and lack of metal used in 'Mech production kept its population down to less than ten thousand. Its biggest city, Proxemian, held a mere three thousand people. It was a civilian planet colonized by scoundrel and retirement folk, the two did no exactly get along, but they were on separate parts of the planet. The sun rising in behind the train-station made for a wonderful sight, but today, that was not the main attraction. There was a battle to be fought with the mysterious Compromise. They were facing each other, seven hundred meters away from each other, staring each other down. He knew they were discussing the requirements and specifications of the recruitment. They were practically mirror images, the recruiter, repaired at the MFB after their previous battle making the paint job the only identifying feature. Standing there with their box like missile racks on their shoulders, the chicken walkers were a technical marvel. Then, movement on the battlefield; the battle had begun. Each fired off their first volley of Stream SRMs, then firing off their ER PPCs. Impact with the Streaks, blowing off chunks off leg armor on the recruiter and hitting the arm and left torso armor on his opponent. Compromise piloted the Madcat as if he was piloting it for years. His piloting was smooth and graceful. He didn't even look like he was trying. After a few more volleys from both 'Mechs the recruiter fell from severe leg damage. It was over, in a few shots, he had proven himself worthy. Compromise cruised his 'Mech into the bay, with only a few scratches. His left torso had some damage upon closer inspection, but none significant enough to interfere with the onboard systems. Still sitting in the waiting room was the first victor; Compromise strolled past him, followed by a younger person, possibly the recruiter. They both went into the solitary office without a label. The young one called the first victor in. This would be the decisive meeting which would decide what positions each get and what their future duties would be. "Thank you for coming here, I am glad you could both make It.,” said the recruiter. "So, what is this unit all about? Who are you?" "Yes, I would love to know what this unit is all about." Compromise said. Pausing for some time, and after shuffling some papers around the recruiter answered, "Well, I am called Nuclear Inferno by many, you can call me NI for short." Already they could both tell he was egotistical and self-centered. "This clan stands for many things, such as honor and revenge." Both recruits were thinking to themselves that by his fighting tactics and his age, this so-called "clan" was nothing more than a unit with too many hopes and dreams. Since the clan invasion, many units have been calling themselves clans, though only twenty were the true clans. "So, what our are ranks and how many people are already in the clan?" "Well.... um.... our... um clan.. consists of very few people. In fact you two are the first ones." NI said nervously. "Whoa, wait a second, you never said anything about this being a new clan." Compromise exclaimed. NI sighed, he did not know what to say, they didn't ask about that earlier but he had to get off that subject, "Ok, how does this sound? You two can both be my second in command. We are scheduled to enter into the war once we get enough members." Looking at each of them, he hoped that they wouldn't leave now, so far into the recruitment process. No one knew what to say both recruits were somewhat furious. They both traveled so far to get there. It was o-eight hundred hours, they were hungry; they hadn't eaten since three that morning. NI dismissed them from his office, allowing them time to think about it. Meanwhile, more recruits arrived on the planet, about five in all, but for NI, that was more than enough. The two new recruits headed towards the cafeteria, not saying a word to each other on the way. Choices in the cafeteria were little and unfortunately, breakfast was no longer being served. So, as if being telepathic, they headed towards the balcony overlooking the battlefield. Though heading different ways, somewhat shocked was the feeling the felt when they saw each other there. There were some chairs on the balcony and since neither had anything to do for the next few hours they sat down. The first recruit realized he still had the binoculars with him. He decided to watch the battle below. A heavier 'Mech this time opposed the Madcat. It seemed like a long battle but the larger toner won, but just by a hair. No 'Mechs were destroyed in this battle, NI gave up before he was about to die, just had he had before. Maybe if they were of equal weight classes the results may not have been so close. More 'Mechs below would follow, a ShadowCat first, did little damage and went down within ten minutes. The gauss on the forty-five ton beast was not enough. The Madcat's victory was also helped by the heat problems suffered by the little ShadowCat. It did manage to blow a single arm off; in the end, it did not matter. The three others were just a blur, as he fell asleep. After a couple hours it was noon, Compromise took the binoculars from his hands while he was sleeping. Compromise just kept watching the battles, as if he was enthralled by them. It was as if he was watching every tactic used and identifying them, he was mumbling something to himself, that might have beam it. “Un-human” was the only way the man sitting right next to him could describe it. Compromised looked so cold, as if his only interest was the battle. The only moving part on him was his fingers pressing the controls on the binoculars and his lips as he mumbled to himself. Sweat of running down his face, but it did not phase him the slightest bit. Amazing how he could still wore his trench coat. Was he aware of his surroundings? Was he that much into studying ever single tactic put out on the field? He could have been an elemental pilot, born and raised to pilot those things. Yet, he did not seem tall enough. Was he a clanner? Could have been, but who was this person to judge? He was raised to pilot 'Mechs, except he did not remember his sibko years before the dispersion of his galaxy and possibly his Clan, he himself could not tell what clan he was from, just that he was. He was just too young to remember. Compromise than began to speak, "Why do you keep staring at me?" Shocked at the ability to sense something so much as someone looking at him, he replied, "I am just amazed at the way you are able to translate tactics you see into your own tactic language." "Oh you are? Just something I picked up over the years." Compromise continued, "Since I am here and have nothing better to do...do you have a name?" "Affirmative, the name is Flocco, Flocco Wessos. People just call me Wessos, though."