MechWarrior: Treasure of the Buried Admiral

Game Master dickie

The Jenni Lynne folds into space, her passengers and crew along with it. Moments later it reappears in a solar system outside of the Inner Sphere.

Upon arrival at the cargo bay, Frau Hoffen is already there talking frantically into her portable comm unit. The compact woman paces in a figure-eight pattern around and between the legs of her own Valkyrie battlemech. She must have been in the bay when the ship made the FTL jump, a practice frowned upon for civilians as a safety risk.

She wears a sleeveless long black dress and her white hair is pulled up into beehive. The hair around the temples and back of her head has been shaved clean. One side of her face and neck, and most of her right arm, are covered in old burn scars, long since healed. A silver necklace, from which hangs two gold rings, is the woman's only jewelry. In complete defiance of her gown, Frau Hoffen is wearing the heavy boots of a mechwarrior.

”Nein, nein. Wir hatten einen zustimmung, Herr Ling. Welche komplikation? Oh. Wann? Ich werde sofort jemanden schicken, hör auf, dir sorgen zu machen.”

If anyone tries to interrupt her, she simply holds up a finger in the 'give me a minute' gesture and resumes her pacing.

Also, since I'm fairly sure Kyle would have done a little homework first...

Kyle casually walks into cargo bay, dressed in expensive casual wear more suited to a high end country club than a space flight. Somehow he has located a fruity mixed drink that he is gently nursing. He begins to call out a slightly louder than necessary greeting to Frau Hoffen when she cuts him off with her gesture. He smiles back at her with a silent toast and leans against a bulkhead waiting for her to finish or for someone else to come in to chat with.

Wendelin growls in irritation at the hotshot woman in charge interrupts his walkover of his 'Mech, his clean-shaven head clearly announcing his status as a Mechwarrior. He affixes her with a glare muttering several choice words under his breath as he examines the feed-loading chamber of the autocannon for the umpteenth time.

They say the jams won't occur, and even if they do you kin clear 'em out easier now. Phah! I don't believe those pukes...miss me old 'mech.

Grunting once more he decides missing the briefing would prove more detrimental than any ammo jams so he quickly climbs down the ladder from the torso of his mech, his aging body still kept in prime condition, but starting to show signs of wear. His own boots make a clomping sound as he jogs to the other side of the cargo bay. Noticing the dandy already waiting here he stomps over to the man, jerking a thumb at Frau Hoffen.

"What's the holdup? She got a burr up her a**. Someone pull the plug on this chase?"

'I think I'm a little under-dressed,' Wraith thinks in her combat fatigues that aren't so much 'distressed' as 'full of holes. She is, at least, grateful for two things.
The first is that she didn't say that out loud. She tends to have a loose lock on her lips, but she's working on it. A thought that's kept inside is a big achievement for her.
The other thing is the drinking-bulb in her hands. Common among the space-bound, a bulb lets you enjoy a kept-cool beverage, without the need to worry about zero-G (of shockwaves from enemy strikes) suddenly spilling aforementioned beverage. Some might think she's drinking water, others vodka. Both would be half-right.

Not having spent enough time in Steiner space to have picked up the local tongue, her eyes start to wander, looking for something interesting.

Her gaze stops on the bald rock-jock going over an ammo-tosser.

"Awww. He's still using ammunition. That's -so- 3025,' she thinks, only realizing too late the thought was said as the man was walking by.

"That was out loud wasn't it?" she muses.

Kyle nods to Wendelin as he comes over.

"I'm not sure. Sounds like some complications. I'm sure everything will be fine.

When he speaks his voice is silky smooth, with a sophisticated cadence that you typically only hear from the educated noble class, with a slight Federated Suns accent.

Kyle flashes Wraith a wry smile and a friendly wink.

"That was definitely out loud."

He extends his hand toward her. If she returns the gesture he shakes her hand not to firmly, but not to light, letting the contact linger perhaps a bit longer than is normal, but not unpleasantly so.

"Kyle Lambert."

"Ammo works fine," he responds to the fellow Mechwarrior, is sha a Clanner? "Jes need to pick yer shots and don't waste ammo. Saves you from cooking in yer cockpit!"

"Fine," he snorts in disgust replying to Lord lambert, "Sure, and Hanse Davion rose to divinity when he died!"

I am assuming the news of Hanse's death is public knowledge DM Dickie, but if not then just strike this message out. I wants to show the antipathy he has towards House Davion.

"Hoi Kyle, I'm Wraith," Alison says, taking up the cute Face-man's hand, feeling a little tingle of warmth on her tummy at his exquisitely-practiced charm. 'Hope he's at least not totally useless in a 'mech,' she successfully thinks to herself.

Oh, uh, since this is FASA, and they're nothing if not consistent, I'm playing a continuous timeline, as if humanity still went through Shadowrun, and it's possible that some of the lingo still exists in common speech. Seems logical.

"Freezers, chummer," she replies to the newcomer. "Ever since they cracked the Helm mem-core, cokkin' in yer cockpit ain't a factor now. Ammo just lefts the enemy know--"
'Don't say 'you're bad at math' don't say 'you're bad at math' don't say 'you're bad at math','
"--you, ah, you can't put up as many rounds as they can, and the battle's on a timer against you."
'Whew. Nailed it!'
"It works for you, sweet. You can hide behind me an' the White Angel when you hear that bladder-emptying *click-click*."

Her playful smile widens. She obviously doesn't mean harm, but can't help hitting home a point when she thinks she has one.

I'm down with some cityspeak. Even more so given my first SR character had the street name, no kidding here, Speed Wraith...

And yeah, I don't care that it was an April Fool's joke, I would play the 8th World if someone had the guts to try and run it.

Kyle's smile never falters although the observant might notice a twitch in the corner of one eye at Wendelin's comment.

"Well, I wouldn't go that far. Maybe just a sainting? Relax. No need to worry about anything until we have something to worry about. Right now, its all just...pffft He makes a gesture opening his hand up like letting air floating away

"Well...Wraith, I take it from your colorful nom de guerre and your copious amounts of technical jargon, that you are one of the mechwarrior Frau Hoffen has hired for this mission?"

"You make it sound like I haven't had ta deal wit' the *click-click* before." Wendelin smirks. If I was 15 years younger... "I know what to do when I run out o' ammo...WHAM!" smacking his fist into the palm of his hand. "As fer yer vision of everyone throwin' lazers across the field, I am still awaitin' the Warhammer I requisitioned!" He guffaws.

Anton watches the strange interaction amongst the others, then jerks slightly, I cannot judge them for how they are, for I am one of them, now... no better, no worse. He shrugs, "There are some tactical advantages to ammuntion-based weapons, especially if one can change one's ordinance on the fly. That said, I do generally prefer relying on primary weapons that cannot expire, especially when one is expected to be far away from a resupply cache, as we are -", he stops himself, barely, from adding quiaff? at the end of the statement.

"Fair point fair point," Wraith chirps at the newcomer before swiveling her gaze back to Kraus. "So, what -do- you run on the LB-X? Standard or Cluster? 'Cause if cluster, you're giving up, what, 50% damage for a minor advantage in target lockon? Sheeyaaaaah.

Now, you trade in all that tonnage and that delicate, fragile, wanna-aSPLOD-y ammo, and you get yourself a nice, basic, large laser, you got the same range, similar damage, and no chance of click-click, which forces you--"
'Maybe DON'T say 'bring a fist to a gunfight? He seems pretty proud of his fisticuffs. No need to have this turn into another Stein's Folly.'
"--to, um, risk your mech in, uh, sub-optimal tactical conditions. I could, uh, do the refit for you...if you wanted."

She quickly looks back to the newcomer. "Hoi chummer, I'm Wraith. You a local? Or were you also displaced from your homeworld when the scum-sucking vat-drek decided to make the 'sphere their plaything?"

'Okay, ya, that right there? Maybe something to keep on the inside.'

Anton frowns for a moment, then recites the same half-truth he's been practicing for months, "I was driven away from my Homeworld by the Jade Falcons... However," he motions at the recently-repaired 'Mech in its stall, "I managed to get something of theirs in the exchange - and it is a fair bit prettier than a ball of mud and dirt.. And since I've been to Hell and back, I've taken the callsign Orpheus."

He says, "I believe the AFFC calls it a Goshawk. The Jades call it a Vapour Eagle. I call it - her -" -- Spheroid pilots often assign a gender to their 'Mechs -- " -- Eurydice."

Kyle continues to lean against the bulkhead nursing his drink. He is content to listen to the mechwarrior banter for a few minutes before chiming in.

"It looks like we have myself and three mechwarriors so far? Interesting mix for what is supposedly some long abandoned lostech. I wonder who else we have joining us."

Titian keeps in the background and smiles.
Scheint mir, da brauchts noch ein paar Nachhilfestunden. Übereinstimmung, nicht Zustimmung. Naja, deutsche Sprache, schwere Sprache!

Kyle smirks as Titian speaks up and directs his speech towards him.

"And I assume that would be our tech. No?"

"I always assumed that the tech-head would say words I didn't understand.

OY MATE! NO sprechen da sourkraut!" she yells at the obviously-pureblood Steiner.

Kyle whispers softly to Wraith, his tone playful with a hint of criticism.

"That was a bit insensitive don't you think?

To the room at large

"Perhaps we would best be served by speaking English, it seems to be the common language. We wouldn't want any misunderstandings to arise due to linguistic slip ups." He stares pointedly at Wraith still smiling cheerfully.

"Attention crew and passengers. We are preparing to disembark from our ride. Get ready to return to zero-g when we lose spin," the dropship captain's voice calls out through the ship intercom. "You've got about fifteen minutes."

Hoffen clicks off her comm and pinches the bridge of her nose with her free hand. "Sorry," she says out loud in English. The older woman gulps down a big breath with her mouth and holds it for a moment before letting it go very slowly through her nose. Once she has emptied her lungs, she opens her eyes and gives a closed-mouthed smile.

"Have any of you heard of RuTech Incorporated? No? That's not surprising since the company went backrupt about two hundred years ago. How about the Admiral Onyango? No, even more obscure. Well, the names really don't matter, do they?

"What does matter is what the Admiral Onyango and RuTech were doing deep in the Rift: testing an extremely efficient and powerful K-F drive. Twice the range, half as much time to recharge." Frau Hoffen walks to her Valkyrie and kicks open an access panel near the foot. She squats with her back to the assembled mercenary team and continues speaking. "Initial test runs went pretty well, but then the tests stopped because of the Usurper. Things were not to pleasant in the Rim Worlds around that time I guess. RuTech was caught in the fighting and many of their labs and administrative holdings were lost. The sole prototype drive was aboard the Admiral Onyango, the fate of which was unknown."

She stands and turns around again holding a freshly rolled tobacco cigarette and a self-lighting match. She cracks the top of the match with her thumb. The fire flares up in front of her face and she grins. "But I know its out there." She lights the cigarette and takes a long drag, blowing the open flame of the match-tip out with the smoke.

"I've been waiting to pick the trail back up. My old friend Ling has found a marker along that trail. He owes me a favor, but of course, nothing is easy. Seems some local gangs on that dusty moon out there," she jerks her thumb in no particular direction, "have been giving him some sort of trouble. He was a little hard to understand, but I figure I'll just send the heavies straight off. See what you guys and gals can do so Ling gets me the package. Not much time to get ready, and I have no clue what you're looking at, but I don't think you'll need those right now." This time she points around the bay, indicating the carefully secured battlemechs. "I mean, what gang needs military hardware? Still, I don't trust Ling. Be prepared for anything. We are going to set down right in the middle of his scrapyard."

"Hmm?" Wraith chirps back at Kyle. "Oh, sorry, I wasn't trying to be a bit insensitive," she pauses with a pregnant pause, "I was trying to be a -lot- in sensitive. I'll try harder next time," she says, half-serious, like a pupil trying to commit a lesson to memory.

"Oh HELLZ YA let's get this party started!" she yells enthusiastically before actually processing what was said. "Oh, wait, we're going to pretend that an un-trusted gangland fixer _isn't_ planning a cruel but inevitable betrayal.

Ever."

Kyle raises an inquisitive eyebrow at Frau Hoffen

"Just to make sure I understand, We've jumped into a system outside of the bounds of the Inner Sphere, where a group of heavily armed... bandits are sitting on a clue, unknowingly mind you, to the location of a super jump ship that has been lost for centuries? And the man who provided you with this information is both untrustworthy and potentially under assault by these very same bandits? And you need us to convince them to hand over this clue, whatever it may be. By force?"

Frau Hoffen puffs and blows out a smoke ring toward Wraith with a wink. "You're cute. I bet a lot of girls find you quite charming."

"And yes, I think you've summed up what I told you pretty well," she tells Kyle. "Force? If that's what it takes. Like I said, Ling was a little hard to understand. We're still a day or so out so the radio is a little fuzzy and slow. He isn't under siege, as far as I know. They may just need to be scared off. Or paid off. I don't know. I'm hoping to get more information as we near planet side. It is true that I trust him about as well as I would trust Isis Marik to service Fatty here," she pats her 'mech on the leg. "But he owes me a sort of life-debt."

Alison screws her face up in confusion, like she just licked a lemon. "You nicknamed a valkyrie 'Fatty'?"

She shrugs. "Yes. I love to hear my lady sing," she says with a grin.

Kraus looks back at his new 'mech and grimaces as he has not even gotten around to naming it...her...yet. Never enough time...

Turning to face Lambert he snorts in half mirth, half disgust. "Whadya think this be a pleasure cruise? I be sure to turn your linens over in the morning!" He hawks a fat loogie across the bay where it lands in a corner.

"Okay so we go in hot. Got any spare cluster rounds," he grins back at Hoffen.

Sounds like ammo shortages is goona be the least of my worries here...

Kyle visibly relaxes when Frau Hoffen mentions their may not be fighting, although how he got more relaxed than his previous state you aren't really sure.

"Well, lets hope it doesn't get too rough out there."

Turning to Wendelin still smiling

"Well, I had hoped there would be a certain threshold of pleasurable activities that would be experienced, yes. No need for the turn down service though. I tough myself how to do that as a child when I first went off to boarding school" he says clearly having fun with some casual banter.

My post got eaten sorry
Before
Looking at Wraith Titian gives her a benelovent smile. He starts to slowly speak to her like to a child. No worries I can speak standard just fine, and while I don't speak gutter I can understand it. But I forgive you. But to add to your discussion, you must be the pilot of that Senesino mech."
Later
"Then let´s hope we will get a big cigar later. A more efficient drive sounds to good to be true. They must have had some truly bright engeneers with them to be able to manage such a feat. But a KF engine that would have double the range, that would be a huge game changer."

Wraith still has the same face.
'30 tons...above-average speed...jump jets...LRM-10...'

It's gonna be awhile before she gets to 'also a name used in opera'.

Anton says, "The prize would be most impressive, though I do note that it would almost be hard to design a meet site that was more condusive to an ambush. Is the plan to walk out a few 'Mechs and set up a perimeter, or are we operating on trust?"

Kyle responds to Anton's comment

"I don't relish the idea of walking into an ambush. What can we do to minimize that risk?

"Can we send a scouting force ahead, try to flush out the ambushers?"

"Ooooooooh." Wraith declares. "The Fat Lady sings. Now I get it!

That work?"

Anton says, "I believe we are fortunate in that all of our 'Mechs are mobile - that provides us with a great deal of flexibility... Wraith and I could use our jump jets to get a good look around and watch the perimeter while the Centurion plays bodyguard to the Frau."

Heinrick listening in on the conversation.

If there is any opportunity to grab a Mech, I will be all for it. You see, I lost mine to the wolves in the FRR.

He leans back on his crate that was strapped down.

I can work on foot, but I would prefer on a Mech, or Aerospace.

Anton says, "Stealing 'Mechs can be hard, but not impossible. I once had to sneak past a garrison to steal a 'Mech, just to be able to use it to fight three others... but I had a new code module with me when I did it. I would imagine, however, that there are less scrupulous versions of that available - a sort of master unlock key.... Either that or we can hope to fight a st-- lance of similar 'mechs, and cobble together one working unit from what's left after the fight."

Turning to Frau Hoffen

"Do we know what level of civilization this moon has? Is there a civilian population, or is it strictly a pirate base? If there is a city I could probably locate us whatever material goods we need. Such as a, what did you call it? Code module."

After Viper pipes up, while Anton and Kyle are talking, Wraith screws her face up as if concentrating very hard. She counts on the fingers of one hand, then the other. Then she stares at her shoes (she couldn't be counting on her toes, right?).

"I have a fourteen percent chance of smashing a cockpit and bringing you a relatively-intact mech. That sound good?" she happily says at Heinrick.

"Bodyguard?" Hoffen snickers in response to Orpheus. "You don't have to worry about me or the ship. I don't know what they call it on the official star charts, but the locals know this place as 'The Dump'. It is a bit of an illegal scavenger and pirate haven. They help supply the Rim Worlds with black and gray market goods. It's supposed to be a neutral ground for different criminal organizations and independents, which is why Ling is confusing me with this nonsense."

She stubs out her cigarette and glances at the time on her comm's display. "It is also why going in hot with bay doors open and 'mechs flying down on jets isn't an option. Sending you in ahead of time in a shuttle is, however it would mean being on your own down there until we catch up a few hours later.

"And yeah, since this is The Dump, you could find just about anything down there: code modules, already decapitated 'mechs, who knows."

Alie perks up at the mention of literally anything being found. "Well then we totally should go down in a shuttle.

Even with half of us on CAP it'll give us a few hours to shop!"

CAP = Combat Air Patrol. Essentially "on watch".

Kraus takes another plug of tobacco and sticks it in his mouth as he digests the news. "Lots that can go wrong here, better watch our backs." He glances around the others, gaze narrowing as he looks closely at Wraith and Kyle. "Best go in black. No need to say who we are."

Glancing up with hope in his eyes at Alison. That would be astounding if we can get it, but it sounds like we are going in on shuttle

Do we have a time for shuttle departure? He inquires into the air, hoping that someone will answer.

Looking over the rest of the crew Kyle asks, "Sounds like we are agreed on the shuttle. Are we all going down in one, or are we keeping the mechwarriors in reserve with the drop ship in case we run into a larger scale of trouble?

"Go hard or go home, chummer," Alison winks at Kyle. "We all go or no one does."
Her eyes swivel back to Jester. "And I plan to stay in the cockpit. I could go topless with my hair on fire and no one would notice," she says, feeling no need to explain how that once it seemed like a good idea at the time.

"Mount up."

Does anyone know what the majority of the threat is going to be?
Viper asks as he starts to key in the opening code.

He then drags out some armour, along with some power packs and other gear.

Grabbing gear, if you need a list, just let me know.

Titian smiles and shakes his head."Well mighty easy to talk to people from the inside of a cockpit! But she said shuttle not dropship. So no mechbays."
How big is the shuttle? What kind of auxilliary does the jumpship have?

Do you want me to pilot the shuttle down?

Viper reaches into his case, pulls out a couple of guns, a vibroblade, and other stuff, then locks it back up.

He then slides into his gear, then starts walking towards the shuttle.

Kraus says nothing here except for loading his weapons, a old-model auto-pistol and an even more battered old pump shotgun. Making sure he had the extra ammo stuffed into whatever spare pouch he had on his armored vest (as if daring Wraith to say anything) he stomps off after the tech.

'Wait, there are ships that -don't- have mech bays? How do they get anything done?'

Eventually Wraith's avarice for free-reign over a Junkyard of Plenty overcomes her trepidation and she puts on on all possessions-Vest, kit, sword (Why do I have this?') and SMG--and gets on the boat.

I suggest that we have a mech for back up

Viper puts his gear down in the locker in the cabin except the belt he is wearing.

He then takes a few minutes to go over the controls to ensure that he has them fresh in his mind.

Kyle watches everyone prep, paying close attention to the way they move, how comfortable they seem in their gear, how confident they carry themselves. He files it all away for future use. Outwardly he continues to nurse his mixed drink.