Anton "Orpheus" Kunegund's page

Athletic: 8+
Physical: 6+
Mental: 7+
Social: 9+

AP: 6 Unassigned Skill Points: 5

Skills:
- Gunnery/’Mech 4 (2+) --- Skill Points: 1
- Piloting/’Mech 3 (4+) --- Skill Points: 0
-- Specialization: Jump-Capable (2+)
- Small Arms 2 (4+) --- Skill Points: 0
- Tactics 2 (5+) --- Skill Points: 1
- Tech/’Mech 2 (5+) --- Skill Points: 0
- Interrogation 1 (8+) --- Skill Points: 0
- Leadership 1 (8+) --- Skill Points: 0
- Medtech 1 (6+) --- Skill Points: 0
- Survival 1 (6+) --- Skill Points: 0
- Unarmed Combat 1 (7+) --- Skill Points: 0
- Perception 1 (6+) --- Skill Points: 0

My career began as any other, I was birthed in a sibko of the Malthus bloodline, and proved the strength of that line and my genetics by surviving the training of a trueborn warrior without washing out. I excelled at tactics classes, and in a cockpit... though I found the catechism classes -- where the true visions and fates of our Clans are revealed -- a little more challenging.. in a way that no others in my sibko did. At the time, I did not understand what was different, and decided it was irrelevant. I was, after all, a warrior.

Which I proved during my Trial of Position on the day I turned 20. I was able to choose any Omnimech in any configuration, and I thought I would be clever and win glory, using an Omnimech far lighter than each of my opponents to prove my skill and superiority. I equipped my Kit Fox with jump jets, a targeting computer, an ECM suite and an active probe -- planning to use speed, mobility, situational awareness and concentrated fire to win the day. I caught my first enemy, a Mad Dog, unawares, unable to bring his massive missile racks against me as my weapons tore through his rear armour. Still, the pilot was quick and managed to hit my right torso with a Large Pulse Laser - damaging my engine shielding - before the array of small lasers took advantage of the hole my PPC made and turned his gyro into slag. I had done it - secured my rank as 'Mechwarrior.

The next opponent was a Summoner, and I was using the same tactics on him when the Active Probe identified the Gargoyle coming up... but I was intent on my kill, and so I stayed on the weakened 'mech with holes in the rear armour rather than jumping to safety. I fired again and again, heat flooding my cockpit, shutdown klaxons blaring, trying to out something valuable as I cut through the internal structure of his torsos. And then, I did. The Summoner was in Prime configuration, and I hit its LRM ammunition. The ensuing explosion destroyed its side torso, which, compounded with the damage I inflicted was enough to end its existence, however, the explosion met the CASE super-structure which forced the remaining explosive force out the rear torso, and into my KitFox. The damage was not lethal... or, at least not immediately so. My ECM suite was destroyed, my left arm was blown off and what little armour I had left was shredded away. I tried to fire my jump jets to get to safety and regroup before the Gargoyle could take advantage of my heat-slowed state, but it was too late. A Gauss slug went right through my right torso, while a volley of LRMs devastated what was left of my right side. Klaxons blaring, acrid smoke filling the cockpit - the only question was whether my 'Mech's fusion engine would shut down from heat or explode -- and so I pulled the ejection lever, completing the Trial with the rank of Star Commander. Better still, my audacity at destroying two 'Mechs that doubled my weight was enough for people to take notice - I was a ristar, so much so that I was that told unit commanders fought for the right to have me serve under them.

In retrospect, that success and that bit of reputation was the glory point of my career. I was assigned to the Falcon Guards, just in time to start the invasion, and given command of a quick scout/strike star. The warriors in my star seemed to be the norm for young Jade Falcon Unbloods, eager to taste the blood of the Inner Sphere, and to see its mythical beauty. However, there was one exception. One of the warriors under my command was a captured Wolf bondswoman who tested out to become a Warrior. In speaking to her, I was finally able to name the difference that had been giving me trouble - I was, it seems, a Warden, unlike the rest of my Clan. Worse, in my pride and hubris, I believed that, as a ristar, I could make our leaders see the error in their views. Instead, my star began to be ritually bid away at each turn. My Falcon troops grew resentful of me, even challenging me to a Trial of Grievance. I defeated each one, but that seemed only to further encourage them. Each time the Falcon Guards went into combat without my Star, I had to face three new Trials. However, Jaana, my Wolfish friend, seemed to quietly support my decisions. As time passed, Jaana and I spent more and more time together, discussing how destroying the very people we meant to enlighten was not a victory. We were not, as promised, greeted as liberators restoring the Inner Sphere to the glory of the Star League -- but being fought tooth and nail by people who did not want us or our enlightenment... and it seemed that Jaana and I were the only two warriors in the whole Clan who could see that.

Then came true disaster: Twycross.

The Falcon Guards were on the planet, but unable to leave due to the hellish Diabolis storm. A Federated Commonwealth task force landed on the planet, attempting to gain intelligence and materiel. I was sent to scout out the Great Gash, so that the Falcons would emerge from the Diabolis storm and destroy the Task Force. We encountered FedCom hovertanks - easily dispatched, so so I leapt ahead of my star to continue our mission while the rest of the star dealt with the armour. When I arrived, the Gash was full of infantry, and there was a medical hospital on the other side. Orders came through to attack the hospital, just as the Star caught up to me. I forced a power surge through my communications system as the orders came, so that long-range communications were impossible and I could blame the comm unit damage on the storm. I ordered my star back into the storm, to look for more FC armoured scouts. When the lead elements of the Falcon Guards arrived and advanced on the hospital, they were buried under tons of rock due to an explosion - the pass, apparently, had been mined.

After the cleanup, I was tried by High Command for disobeying orders on two counts. First, I did not report the explosives in the Gash (which I did not discover, however, my sensor logs were tampered to show evidence of the explosives), and second, I disobeyed a direct order to destroy the Hospital. When my three starmates testified against me, I knew not only that I had been set up, but that I was going to lose my status as a Warrior. Jaana stood by me, but it did not help. The vote ratio was 7 to 4 against. I immediately challenged the verdict to a Trial of Refusal. A 7 to 4 vote meant three 'Mechs of equal size against us (the remainder was all but guaranteed to be bid away). Jaana and I took solace in each others arms that night, as if were were sibkin, needing some moment of calm considering the storm around us. We awoke that morning, the spell broken, scared for each other... and, to be honest, of each other, given how vulnerable we felt.

I walked into the Circle of Equals -- this time, in a light 'Mech because Command ordered it so rather than because I was being clever, taking the same configuration as my Trial of Position - Jaana and I in a pair of Kit Foxes. We had decided that if each of our targets could fire at us, then we, too, would team up on them. We probably should not have been surprised to see that it was our former starmates that had won the bidding to uphold the Council's decision. Jaana and I worked together, keeping our shots low, taking out our opponent's legs - a tactic that worked well - we had taken out the legs from Davin and Rhoda's 'Mechs with only minimal damage in return - leaving only Stefan to face us both. My shots destroyed his left leg, while Jaana's tore through his side torso, tearing off the arm before getting to the gyro. As the 'Mech started to fall, she shouted, "We have done --", but her triumphant cry was cut short when a flash of blue lightning turned the head of her 'Mech into an ion cloud from Davin's carefully lined-up shot from the ground. Something snapped inside me at that moment as the realization that I had once again lost any chance at being content flooded me, and I locked all weapons onto the downed 'Mech, firing until the heat overwhelmed the engine and shut down the 'Mech.

When the 'Mech rebooted, I could hear a voice declaring: "-over! The trial is over! The trial is over!", but I ignored it, turning my attention from the smoking, flaming husk of what had been Davin's 'Mech - he clearly had not gotten out - to the others. Rhoda's 'Mech was legless and missing an arm, and I used my targeting computer to lock on its head before firing my own PPC. Based on the marks around the fallen Adder, it seemed that Stefan had fired his ejection system after crashing to the ground. The voice in my helmet was growing louder, more urgent... with even the injection of a sense of panic as it kept declaring the trial over and I ignored it.. hunting.. until I saw was I was looking for. I dropped my crosshairs onto Stefan's form, his IR signature standing out against the cool foliage, and squeezed both triggers - pulse lasers and artificial lightning vapourizing him instantly -- then fired once more at the charred spot that had been Davin's 'Mech for good measure, before I keyed my radio. "Now, it is over." I heard myself say with a voice so raw it hurt, then shut down my 'Mech.

Despite being vindicated by the trial results, the testimony of my Starmates, and, especially, my conduct in the Trial had damned my career. They could not legally remove my Warrior status, not without another Trial, so the Council assigned me to the 43rd Falcon Solhama Unit. They ordered me out of my Stormcrow. I challenged the Council to a Trial of Possession for the OmniMech, but I was defeated. They stripped me of my rank, rightly earned in my Trial of Position. I challenged the decision with a Trial of Refusal. Again, I lost. My heart simply was not in it anymore. I accepted my lot as a Disgraced and Dishonoured 'Mechwarrior as I was shipped to my new unit, expecting them to hand me a rifle and have me charge incoming 'Mechs like some grizzled 40-year old.

Instead, I was surprised... and, perhaps for the first time, it was a pleasant one. My Nova was not, as I expected, a group of dishonoured warriors, crazed to regain their honour in suicidal charges... nor were they a group of bandits. They were, however, all misfits. Nova Commander Remi was a fair commander, disgraced at the hands of a Clan Steel Viper raid that she had no control over. She treated me like a Warrior, one who she was proud to have in her command, even fighting a duel to win the right to have me pilot a Vapour Eagle -- not an OmniMech, true, but a decent machine that had a similar feel to the Stormcrow I had lost. She told me, later, that she had fought a trial to bring me into her command, having heard what I hsd done during my Trial of Position... and at the Trial of Refusal. She told me that my actions that day were either the actions of someone taking revenge on those who set him up, in which case, I was a warrior that she would be proud to command.... or the actions of a crazed maniac, in which case, she would make sure I was pointed in the right direction and reap the glory of my kills. I laughed when she said it, probably for the first time in more than two years... and when I did, she smiled and said "It would seem to be the first one, then." She made me her second in the Nova.

All of the Nova seemed to be more little 'reclaimation' projects of the Nova Commander, whether they were freebirths who deserved a chance and were, frankly, better warriors than some of the trueborn in my sibko, or 'accidents' like Lyssa, the Elemental who was thrown away when they realized they had used the wrong material to birth her, accidentally mixing the Pilot line of the Hazens instead of a Warrior. We were misfits, but I had found a group in which I could belong... and Nova Second was the closest to real rank a dishonoured, disgraced Warden could achieve in Clan Jade Falcon. I would probably die before promotion, though Remi never let me dwell on that. Our Nova forged a bond stronger than I has ever felt with my last star, or even my sibko.... Each of us was, deep down, a warrior, and we all had the same feeling of having more to offer than the Clan would ever acknowledge... and, we came to realize, more than the Clan deserved -- the realization being driven home, and hard, after Remi and I were blocked by our new Star Colonel Roshak from even competing in the Grand Melees for the Pryde and Malthus bloodlines following the Clan's losses on Tukayyid.

To be honest, I was more upset about Remi than myself. She was everything that a Commander should be... and, more, there was a deepening personal feeling there, too, one I did not understand at the time. That was our first night together, and it was the birth of our plan to escape. To set out, away from the Clan that did not want us or value us in any way. We started talking to the others, slowly introducing them to our plan, with Remi and I trying to work out logistics and details in the quiet of the night, alone in her room. We had convinced most of the Nova within a month or so... we just needed to find the right opportunity to get away.

And when it came, it was not what we had expected.

A group of Inner Sphere pirates struck a supply depot we were guarding. They were a company strong, a medium lance and two heavy/assault lance. Despite being outnumbered, our Nova engaged them, being told that Star Colonel Roshak's heavies would be coming up from the other side. I knew something was wrong when my computer did not recognize all of the 'Mech designs - and not because the opponent's vehicles were cobbled together from spare parts. Still, we engaged, trying to harry them while tracking the Star Colonel and the coming of the "real warriors" and their heavies.

We let their scouts pass us and ambushed a heavy lance, each of our 'Mechs carrying a Star of elementals as we jumped into position, greatly damaging a Thunderbolt and a Warhammer in our first pass. The pirates started to regroup and fought back, the other heavy lance shifting in and the scouts rushing back to support -- so we struck hard again before jumping away, taking the leg off their Thunderbolt... and laughing as we could see the Star Colonel's command Trinary closing the range... And that is when the artillery started raining down on us from the Star Colonel's dropship and the three Nagas. Our cries of victory changed quickly as we watched our own elementals being blown away by the deliberate fire of someone who only saw us as a way to hold the enemy in position. We were, to the Colonel, bait, not warriors.

And that was when the Arrow IV missile hit Remi's 'mech, blasting a massive hole where the torso used to be and setting off a number of explosions as her ammo cooked off. The force of it all threw her 'Mech back, off its feet.... and down into the chasm we were about to leap back down into. The fall finished off her 'Mech... and Nova Commander Remi, as well. I felt it again, that... snap... within me. This time, though, the pain was far, far worse... and, somehow, the hatred and fury were not a consuming fire, but something cold... calculating... precise.

"Nova, with me," I called, and we rushed through the canyon, abandoning our position. I tightbeamed an apology for attacking to the nearest pirate, telling them that our Nova... well, Star, given what was left of us, would be attacking the real enemy. Unsure if they understood, or would care, I leapt out of cover, lasers cutting into the rear armour of the Star Colonel's 'Mechs... and was joined by three other Battlemechs carrying a dozen elementals. The bandits were surprised, but joined in the attack. In the end, Star Colonel Roshak and his Trinary of long-range Omnis did not stand a chance against what was left of Remi's Nova... my Nova, now... supported by a company of what turned out to be Kell Hounds.

When the Trinary was destroyed, there was a tense pause, broken by the 'bandits', who identified themselves. In the end, we negotiated our surrender and ransom, offering them not only the warehouse they had come to raid, but also a number of other supply caches... and, of course, all the salvage from Star Colonel Roshak's Trinary -- or, at least, all that was left over after Fergus, Sarah and I had our 'Mechs repaired. Knowing our lives were forfeit if we stayed, we left with the Hounds... off to the Inner Sphere.

We learned a lot about the people we were invading on the jumps back -- and, truth be told, I learned a lot about myself then, as well. About the misconceptions that I held about these people, about the things that the Clan filled our heads with... and about what I had been feeling since Remi died. The Hounds all acted as though I had lost my mate when Remi died, as if I was some member of a lower caste.... but, to be fair, they were right. I could not recognize the romantic love, but that did not mean it that was not what it was... and, what is more, I came to the realization, amongst these warriors, freeborn, the lot, and from wildly different backgrounds, that even the notion of castes was clearly wrong.

Seeing that we were likely to have trouble adapting, the Kell Hounds offered to bring what was left of the Nova to Wolf's Dragoons - rebel offshoots of one of our Clan's greatest enemies -- simply because they would understand us, there, and we would likely feel more at home. The Nova took a vote and agreed to the offer... and yet, I knew I could not go with them. There was something too raw in seeing them, spending time with them, a constant reminder of the six best months of my life... it was like placing my fingers constantly into the wound in my... heart. I bid them all a fond farewell, and a promise that I would seek them out when I found... whatever it might be that I needed to feel whole again. After they left, I had the Hounds assure me that they would be safe amongst the former Wolves, especially given the likely outcome when Command analyses any of the sensor data from our defection. To help us fit in, or to hide, the Hounds gave us a secondname, like a Bloodname, I suppose. It is "Kunegund". It means 'war family' or 'war clan' in their native German. Truly, it fits, and helps bind us together.

I an 'Mechwarrior Anton Kunegund of no Clan. Or, rather, a Clan of twelve, my fellow exiles and traitors to the Falcon. I count as my few friends the very people my Clan spent two decades teaching me to hate, and I count as my enemies the very Clan I was meant to serve. And I am looking for... something.... though I only hope I will know what it is when I find it.

You can call me Orpheus.... After all, I've been to Hell and back.

1: Streak SRM/2
2: Jump Jet
3: Targeting Computer
4: Targeting Computer
5: Targeting Computer
6: Endo Steel

1: Gyro
2: Engine
3: Engine
4: Engine
5: Ferro Fibrous
6: Endo Steel

1: Jump Jet
2: Endo Steel
3: Endo Steel
4: Ferro Fibrous
5: Ferro Fibrous
6: <empty>

1: Endo Steel
2: Endo Steel
3: Endo Steel
4: <empty>
5: <empty>
6: <empty>

1: Flamer
2: Ferro Fibrous
3: Ferro Fibrous
4: Ferro Fibrous
5: <empty>
6: <empty>