What the hell is a Darth you may be asking yourself. Well, that's where my story starts. I wasn't always a pilot. I was actually a History Professor, specializing in Earth Military History up though the mid-22nd Century. I guess my major also explains the unnatural fascination I had with mid-to-late 20th Century cinema. There was a popular movie trilogy from that time which included a villain who used that name. My son loved him.....
My son, Jonas. The reason I'm here today. Well, the real reason is pirates. While I was away at the University, raiders struck our town, searching for supplies and who knows what else. They took everything, and left no survivors. I died inside that day. I cashed out my retirement, quit the University, and sold what was left of my 20th Century antiques, and bought my first mech, a seriously used and abused Red Ant.
I spent months teaching myself how to pilot it, how to shoot, and how to maintain it when it broke. Which was fairly often. As I got better, I started fighting in some of the small, local arenas. They needed a name, and it came to me. Darth Zed. Because, just like the line from another popular 20th Century film, "Zed's dead, baby."I was expecting to meet my end in the arena, but I discovered I had a talent for piloting. I wasn't champions material, but I earned enough to finance a line of mechs, and then two. Then I started bounty hunting. Well, mainly chasing down bail jumpers, but it gave me salvage rights to any skips I caught, after the Bondsmen got their cut.That led me to the real bounty hunting jobs, tracking down dangerous individuals wanted in several systems. I began to make a name for myself on Tremulus, the Pirate Moon. Both Shogunate and Cogwerk brokers seemed to prefer my no-nonsense, and no survivor, approach to my work.
Unfortunately, an ambush left my mechs crippled and I thought I was done for, when another unit showed up, apparently tracking the same bounty. They took into consideration the work I had put in, and the considerable amount of downed mech I caused this particular pirate cluster, and decided to cut me in for a share when they collected the bounty. After talking to some of the pilots, I discovered they were an organized Clan, something that was beginning to pop up in several systems, called the Northwind Highlanders. I arranged to meet them at Cogwerk Port to settle accounts, and that is where they offered me a position in their ranks. It seems they were starting a second unit, the Black Watch, and needed a few more good pilots.
I took a few hours to give it some thought, mulling it over with a bottle of single malt scotch I claimed during a recent Bounty.After going over their contract, and catching up with current events, I decided to accept their offer of a position in the Black Watch.
It seems that the Corporations and larger governments were beginning to organize Mech tournaments. These were larger affairs then the local arena fights, bringing in dozens, sometimes even hundreds, of participants. They used a simulator to analyze piloting skill, and separated us into divisions and tiers filled with similarly skilled pilots. The competition in these Tourney's were fierce, but were very popular among both the fans and the pilots. These were Battle Royal tournaments called King of the Mountain. You had to fight your way up. There were numbered positions throughout the battlefield, the lower the number, the better your prize.If you were able to capture and hold that position until the timer ran out on the battle, you won a prize based on your position. Then some marketing genius decided to get the Clans involved. Not in one-on-one fights. No, they had the crazy notion to put the entire Clan on the field to face off with another Clan of similar strength. The first one of those was held in April of 3263, and oh what a fight it was. That led to other changes in the KOTM. One event we could only bring our Front line, in another, you got points for how long you held a numbered position. Clan Wars II rolled around in May of 3265 and it was the biggest spectacle yet. By this time there were more Clans, so there was more competition.
The audiences ate it up. The Clans loved it as well. Bigger prizes, more prestige. We did well for ourselves for several years. I was able to upgrade my used mechs to over a dozen front-line Ogguns, equipped with the best weapons crystal and niodes could by. Times were good, I had thought my pirate-fighting days behind me. I had something to live for again
.It was September of 3266. I had decided to take a Gateway back home, say one last good-bye to my family and my past. I fired up my mech, stepped up onto the platform, and that's when Holy Hell broke loose. I don't know if it was a jump circuit that malfunctioned, or a solar flare, or maybe it was just a damn snavurm chewing on a wire. All I know is that all my mechs and I lit up like a Christmas Tree, with electricity arcs going crazy. My control panel blew, and before I could eject, I blacked out from the smoke.
When I awoke, I was in what I assumed to be an emergency medical tent. It was dark, and there were sounds of chaos outside.Just how bad was the Gateway malfunction? There was a lantern beside my cot, with an actual flame. As I reached for it, I saw my hand in the dim light. It was dark brown, about twice the size of my normal hand, and had hair on it. But the worst was the nails. Massive, black pointed things, undoubtedly sharp enough to tear flesh. I sat up, and that is when I realized I was wearing armor. Not the plasteel composite we wear in our mechs. Honest to damn goodness King Arthur and Knights of the Round Table armor. I stood up, marveling at how easily I did so wearing what must be about 75 pounds or more of solid steel.
I looked around the tent, and saw a mirror hanging on one of the posts. I approached it and caught my first glimpse of myself in the reflection.
I had horns.....
Submitted by Hal Spencer# 14143