Equipment Review: Core of the Dragon By Kenneth Hicks ID 846092

Curtis was down in the hanger deck swearing and throwing parts across the bay.

“What the living frakk are we supposed to be doing with more of these!!!??”
Captain Carlos looked over at Colonel Hicks with a raised eyebrow.

“I dunno! Go in there and find out what’s got his undies in a bunch! I have IT techs that need to get in and run diagnostics, but are too afraid to enter the bay.”

Carlos sighed, rubbed his eyes and went in.

“Officer on the Deck!”

Sgt. Curtis stopped just long enough to see who it was, then threw a spanner at a group of loaders just for good measure.

“Curtis! Just what in holy Hockey Sticks is going on down here!”
“Load tests sir.”
“Wha? NO! No, don’t you give me that you ugly Ambershard Gizzard! I want to know just why you all of the sudden feel like tearing up our bay when the Colonel has some eggheads coming in!”

“It’s supply sir, they sent us more.”

“More what?”
“More mid-sized engines sir.”

Again, Carlos sighed, rubbed his eyes, and started from the top.

“Okay Curtis, I know these don’t help the main troop, but what’s wrong with them?”

Curtis thought about it a minute, shuffled his feet, then sullenly replied,  ”Nothing sir. Actually, these are pretty handy.”

“Okay Curtis, start from the top. What are they , what do they do, and what are they good for?”
Curtis rubbed his hands together, warming to the subject.

“Well, these are a load of Core of the Dragon engines. They’re made for 40 – 70 ton mechs, giving a speed of +8, but throwing it on with a 13% boost to fire damage and 5% trample. Too small for an Inferno, but perfect for a Cindrons, another good use would be specialty builds on Nephs, Ogguns, Daemons, or any other mech up to 70 ton that you want to give some fire damage and some trample to.”

“So what’re you complaining about, they’re awesome for our mid-sized specs!”

“I know, I just got those cleaned up though and didn’t want to open up the engine compartments again.”
“Dammit Curtis… alright, stack them with the other mid size gear until you have time, but make them a top priority to install then.”
“Yessir!” Curtis walked away with a bit of a swagger after that.

“Frakkin deck Sergeants…bunch of Divas.”

On A Cold November Night By Kenneth Hicks ID #846092

Lance Corporal Johnny Mathis was huddled up in the frozen footprint of one of the 90 ton death machines that wreak hell on his planet on a regular basis.

Cupping his cigarette to hide the glow, he remembered his dad telling him the story of the Cogwerk Industries, and how they used to actually care what happened around here.

Down by Beggar’s Bay, they had a flight station set up big enough to handle multiple drop ships. Several of the colorful Clan Banners would wave over multitudes of troops who had trained to keep the peace.

That was then and this is now. Now the Clans seemed to be all wrapped up in portals, looking into something called a Meta something or other. In their absence, Pirates, smugglers, and low life’s had moved in. Gang wars rage back and forth with no control. The Military Police iMech’s all lay in salvaged over ruins. The only ones left, are those who only want their damn planet back.

Resistance fighters, usually not very coordinated, certainly not well armed, try and take on the Pirate Gangs, trying to make the planet too expensive to care about. It’s hard though. And ordinary folks with hunting rifles and farm supplies get used up quick when fighting the gigantic Mechas that roam the countryside.

Down the hill, Johnny heard or rather felt the leg hydraulics of an Eighty Tonner known as a Ballista that he’d scouted previously as it ransacked barns and outbuildings, looking for scrap.

Johnny put out the smoke and breathed in his hands for a brief respite from numbness, gathered his gear and ran at a crouch parallel to the machine, just over the rise so that there wouldn’t be any site confirmations.

The Ballista had seen better days. Skull and crossbones painted with white wash across the front of it, rusted holes where bullets had entered at some point in its existence. On its left armature was the faded insignia of the old Overlord Clan, now but a distant memory.

Still, even in its state of disrepair, the pilot inside caught movement on his sensors. 50 meters off his 3 to 2.5. Looking at the size and speed, it could be a deer, or just a big dog. He should check it out anyways as he might get a meal out of it, if it is a deer, or even better, get to shoot one of the frakkin farmers that have been sabotaging their equipment as of late.

The Ballista topped the hill and stood still, waiting for his foe to make a move.

Johnny was crouched down in another muddy foot print. He’d taken a couple of knee length socks out of his pack, along with gunpowder, fertilizer, and some fermented orange squeezins in a mason jar that he’d packed carefully.

Into the sock, he poured equal parts of gunpowder and fertilizer, then using the fermented oranges to bind it all together. For a makeshift ignitor he reached into his cargo pocket and pulled out a thin flask full of magnesium shavings. Very carefully, he squeezed the socks between his numb fingers mixing up the odd mixture. Once this was done, he tied the socks off, then thickly coated them in axel grease. Once done, he reached into his other pocket and pulled out a small, silver dog whistle. Putting it to his lips, he blew in the direction away from the mech.

In the Ballista, the Pilot saw his audio signals peak on the high end, somewhere near the tree line. He then caught movement scuttling around.

“There we go, there’s those lousy milk saps. Time to cook some farm hands.”

<thump> <thump>

Wha? What was that? The pilot shown a spot light around his mech. Seeing the frozen prints, he reasoned that his hydraulics made a funky adjustment on the frozen mud. Time to go light up the tree line.

Johnny was sweating bullets. This was not good as the sweat trickles turned to ice in the most inconvenient places. He had thrown his “sticky bombs” right into the leg gears that were right beneath the ammo cannisters for the Ballista. Now hopefully, that mech makes it far enough away before the grinding of said gears sparks the magnesi FOOM, KERWHUUUM!!!

Blackness. Cold. Ringing. The sense that a giant had just punched him right in his babymakers with its giant fist. Johnny cracked his right eye open. Pain. Blindness. Then faint light. Luckily it was moonlight or Johnny wouldn’t see a thing.

About fifty feet down the hill the Ballista lied in ruins. Johnny thought hard now, because he was pretty sure he only heard one soul-sucking explosion. Folks don’t realize that it’s not the explosion that hurts, it’s the shockwave caused by all the air leaving the vicinity at once. To emphasize the point, Johnny could see a piece of his leg about ten meters away. He looked at it with clinical curiosity. Watching as it spasmed, but just a little.

Wait, oh yeah, was there only one explosion? Johnny looked over towards the Ballista with his only working eye. Sure enough, most of the mech was splintered and in pieces, but the left leg and fuselage was still intact. And on fire. Well now, at least he’s taking one of the monster mechas with him.

On this cold November night, a second eruption of flames and carnage erupts, disturbing the countryside. Then all was silent again. And so it goes.

Weapon Review: Focus Jet By Joshua Bourne ID #702128

"Tight tolerances during manufacture ensure a focused high power jet of fire."

Once more, the Craftsmen have given us another limited time weapon, this time in the form of the "Focus Jet". Let's take a look at it and see if it's worth the investment...

It's stats are as follows:

Damage Type: Fire
Damage: 140
Speed: 104
Burn: 35%
Splash 20%

This is a very high powered Fire weapon that will toast nigh on any mecha that it crosses paths with, only the fire cautious won't need to worry about this all too much. To pick up one (or multiple) of these weapons, they cost the following:

Ferrite: 1937

Bioptics: 1300

Niodes: 59

Or a bulk buy..

Niodes: 236

Now it's important to note that this weapon is limited to pilots level 102 and higher, meaning you have to be highly qualified to even get a chance to buy it, never mind purchase it to use it on your mecha. Also you are limited to how many you can purchase, currently set at 25.

Do I think this weapon is worth the investment? Well the Burn and Splash stats are fantastic, giving it plenty of long lasting damage along with multiple targets being caught in the spray of heat, but I can't help but feel it's outclassed by the Prometheus that's purchasable 8 levels later. It has a touch less damage, but it's faster, has more burn percentage and has innate double damage, making it hit well above it's weight.

All in all, I'd give this weapon a 7/10. It's a great piece of kit, but for the price, and the competition it's got in the Fire category, it's a bit too difficult to say it's better than the existing weapons.

My Honest Opinion: By Spike Shepard Player ID: #846030

My honest opinion of Faction Wars is that the prizes never match the experience gain. In the last clan war, I gained 3 levels then struggled for the next month to find enough niodes to level up my niode mechs. It was only down to a rent party and having to sell my Megazome that I won for being in the top 5 in the faction for wins.

It then took me another 2 months to afford the equipment to fill the slots on the niode mechs. That's just my personal problem but better prizes to match the effort and experience gain would be much appreciated.

As for the factions themselves there was a lot of fixing on the levels front! Currently you must have at least 35 pilots BUT only the bottom 2 don't count. That's a world of hurt for many clans there as certain clans (trying not to mention a certain clan) who whack in their high-level players with their low level campers and POW instant gold!

If you discount 2 pilots for a minimum of 8 then you need to discount the 10 lowest pilots for factions of 35 of more to even the playing field in all fairness and to stop certain clans from walking to gold. If they want a Gold they should be made to fight for it. Those are my main gripes, but fingers crossed you'll take them on board Nick Shapiro.

The Tower: By Kenneth Hicks ID: 896092

“Hmmm….Beefy…”

I stood back looking at our unit’s new Tower mecha. A full 105 tons of fire and projectile throwing fun. It’s Fortress A.I. is perfectly suited for enhancing these qualities. The one weird thing is the Thunderstorm cell system.

With a mech this huge, it’s obviously going to be slow. With the Thunderstorm, it actually diverts power into the weapons, giving it some nice x2 and x3 percentages. So basically, kill smaller mechs before they kill you.

To help with this, the Splash and Trample defenses are naturally cut down by 70%, has a ton of shield slots, and it’s ablative armor cuts down the effectiveness by 40%. Oh, and a point missile defense system to boot. So all together, extra power to massive weapons, slower speeds, but massive defenses. Nice mix!

My test pilot actually told me that a wing of Dilo’s trying to gang up on him actually started shooting a rock outcropping, mistaking it for the Tower, thanks to the Ablative armor. Defense that makes you shoot rocks…muahahahahaaaaa

So, recommendations? Trick this pony out in solid niode shields, give it a few cockpit slots with the VR Target Tracking so it has some freeze capability,then slap in an equal amount of Nebula and Cerberus drives for fire damage, x2 and x3 enhancements, and a few auto repair points.

Until we get some better gear built for the 105s, this is about the best you can hope for. So slap that baby into your formation, because if nothing else, it takes the attention off of your other mechs.

Faction Time By Kenneth Hicks; ID: 896092

Ladies and Gentlemen, Start Your Engines!

Word on the grapevine is that we have a Faction War coming up this month!

Now, what this means to those of you that have only been playing for six months or so is that your clan will be looking for other clans to make one gigantic faction with. That means people who used to be your enemy are now sided with you against others you may or may not of fought before.

To the common player, that’s about the biggest deal that they deal with. Racking up major xp with tons of wins per round, Faction War Analytics tend to get redonkulous.

Now for the Leaders and Officers, here come the headaches and intrigue. Major deals made from shadowy areas. Rumors thrown around, sometimes to throw off the scent of what’s actually happening, sometimes spot on the money.

Oh, and the headaches. You ever notice how your Leaders get all grumpy three or so days before Clan Wars? Well take it times ten as they now have to deal with player placement based on level, and sometimes diva like attitudes. The moving and shaking in it’s own right is almost as fun to watch as the contests themselves.

So here, in the comments of this article, I’d like to see a few things. I’d like to see clans looking to join other clans, I’d like to see stories of past Faction Wars, and I’d like to see some opinions on what’s about to happen. Always remember, all stories, opinion pieces, and strategy breakdowns can be posted on the

Galaxy Gathering Page so as to put some niodes in your pockets and get your name known as a mover and a shaker!

Good Luck everyone!

JP's Rowdy Bunch Clan Logo By Carlos Hicks ID# 905078

Headquarters By Kenneth Hicks ID# 896092

As I walk up the trail, I have my machete swinging in one hand, my laser pistol in the other. Jungle had grown across the trail and it was being a particular bitch to get through. Finally, after sweating through my nav suit, I reach the slightly rusted door that heads into the side of the ridge. The com link/keypad was on the right with a dull, green glow over the panel.

“Oy, open up you geezers!”

I wait about ten seconds then thumb the intercom again.

“HEY! Wake up out of your nasty, funk filled slumber and someone come answer the door!”

Again, nothing except the rustles of the Jungle around me.

After the next 10 seconds, I type in the old passcode into the keypad and hit enter. Red light.

“Frakking derpterds, never home when you need them.”

I open up my old manual to see if I can find the “Back Door Code” which I had purloined from Patrick’s diary the year before.

Ate675309! *green light, click*

The door opened up and the smell of foul, stale air came wafting out. Shortly after, I could hear electronics powering up inside and vent blowers kicking in.

I sat down, loaded, and smoked a pipe for a bit, letting the scrubbers clear out the old atmosphere and let the internal systems power up and start doing their system checks.

Finally, after ten more minutes, I knocked out the pipe and went inside to see just what sort of disrepair and funk was in the old G.G. Headquarters.

Old pizza boxes, check, Chow Mein spilled on the floor, check. Tons of Lager cans and liquor bottles, definitely check.

I check Patrick’s old room and it was sealed up and fairly clean like I remember it. Things in a semi order, his dolls (excuse me, collectibles) lined up on his council, papers in place (I’ll go over those later), so pretty much good to go.

Next, I check my room. Sealed, close to the condition of Patrick’s only the dank smell of something familiar. I look through my desk drawer and find an opened bag of Vupinian Stench Spice that I distinctly remember as being sealed, and in a different location for that matter. Mental Note: Throw McCallum’s bunk into the swamp for a couple days then put it back.

Finally as I went down the hall, I get the whiff of something dreadful. David McCallum’s door is wide open. Worse than that, there is what appears to be an Ambershard nest made up of pizza boxes and beer cans in the middle of the floor.

I pull out my laser pistol so as to be ready if “mommy” comes back in for a looksee.At the bottom of the pile, I find a foot. Ew… Just. Ew. As I try to pull the foot from the debris, a low, guttural growl comes from the pile.

“Dear Prophet, we have a live one.”

As I dig into the nest, I start to realize that there aren’t any eggs. Odd. Then the rubbish heap talks at me!

"Oy! Get off me ya wanker!”
“DAVID!!”
“And quit shouting, frakk…”

As David sat up, I try asking questions as to just what the hell happened.

“Writer’s Block mate. Plain ‘ole writer’s block. But now you’re hear so we can get this heap up and running again. Grab a broom!”
“No, YOU grab a broom you nasty misfit, I have writing to do as I haven’t been under a pile of rubbish for three months.”

“Not yet boy, not yet…”

Tiamat Dragons Clan Heraldry By Kenneth Hicks ID 846092

Hot Garbage: The Yallan Written By Notwillard ID# 953947 on kong

For long time I was looking forward to scavenging a Yallan from some Drochah minions, hitting raid after raid, with the carnage piling up around me, thinking one day I'll hit that One in Fifty chance and finally get me a sweet 95ton ride. Even though I didn't have any 95 ton mechs so far, bigger has always been better, and I remember looking at this mech early on in my piloting career, thinking that with all that shielding it's got to be one strong mech. Room for 5 shield modules at lvl 17? I don't think any other crystal mech can compare to that. Plus, they can equip some of the biggest, baddest shield modules in the game.

Recently I finally nabbed one. Best day ever! Or so I thought. 

At 95ton, seems any kind of flaw in a mechs design just gets magnified many times over. Test driving my Yallan was the most frustrating experience of my piloting career. It couldn't dodge any shots fired at it. From my early testing, and even after retrofitting it with some black market chassis unavailable to the masses to correct this, it under-performed immensely. Too slow it seems, and hardly any noticeable damage. Definitely not worth putting my limited collection of spikes on it to correct the dodge issue.

In the Yallan's defense, when configured with mostly niode equips it's almost not completely useless...except for that speed of 11 proved to be a killer in testing situations at my level. Compared to the top speed of similar mechs like the Magnus, which can readily hit 40, and has other similar stats, this Yallan really earned it's nickname of "Hot Garbage".

Hot Garbage

Tons: 95

Level: 60 / 60

Armor: 790

Proj. Damage + 4% 

Laser Damage + 13% 

Fire Damage + 46%

Speed + 11 

Fork 30% 

2X Damage 16% 

Trample 12% 

Crit-Kill 14% 

Dodge (50) 

Precision (52) 

Auto Repair (3) 

Shield (256) 

The Piker and the Chicken Dancer by Kenneth Hicks; #846092

“Nothing like having down time, pfft.” I was in a ripe mood today. A number of Clans had been ordered from the last excursion to beat feet over to Vupa 6 in case of another Gateway anomaly. This was not taken well by the men as it cancelled R&R, made them put in extra hours readying things from the last battles, load onto and off of the drop ships, and now 84 hours later, sit in cold mud waiting for something to happen.

Colonel Ken Hicks was sitting on the foot of his Pike, trying to keep his feet dry. While he wasn’t in the mud itself, the mist was so heavy that everything was still a bit soaked through.

“Ay there, Cochese! You look so down, I’ve seen the arse end of a Dingo look prettier than you!”

Ken looked to his right and saw the slanted smile of Joel Parras walking his way. The crazy Aussie was always good for a laugh, but a devil in the field, always boasting some great kills for the Northwind Dragons.

“If I’m the arse end, you must be what I sicced up last night you belligerent Dundee.”

“Aw, don’t be that way big fella, I brought ye somthin’ nice!”

In Joel’s left hand, an amber bottle appeared that had a green wax seal and a set of fangs on the label. In his right, a white bottle, red wax, and a Gargoyle on the front.

“Snarvum Venom and some Olde Stoney. You are a sick man sir. Get over here and I’ll start the tunes.”

After about three hours of drinking, both bottles were gone and both pilots were feeling a bit sassy.

“Hey Hicksey, we need to do something to break up this monotony. Got any ideas?”

“How about a friendly Point mech challenge?” Ken said with a sidelong glance.

“That’d be fun, but the ground crew’d have my guts for garters if I get any damage to her.”

“Who said anything about damage? We have a set of that Mecha M.I.L.E.S. gear for training shave-heads. We could whip that up in a jiffy. It’d be fun!”

Now to the layman, M.I.L.E.S. stand for multiple integrated laser engagement system. Where this becomes interesting is it’s a giant harness that fits your mech with sensors, and has low output lasers that shoot in the place of your armament.

So both pilots go and abscond with a mule (transport platform), sign out two sets of gear, then head back to their Point Mechs to get them harnessed up.

Needless to say, when you have an outpost of bored pilots, grunts, and techs, tongues start to wag. Pretty soon, there was a 10 square click grid sectioned off with seating and bets being placed. Both the Brotherhood and the Dragons were present, whooping it up, eating BBQ, and generally making a party out of it.

While Ken was Piloting his massive Pike, decked out with shiny niodes, Joel was suiting up in his old reliable Dreadnought, the Chicken Dancer.

Bets had the Pike at 3-1, but Ken knew better. Joel was a frakkin’ demon when it came to Chicken Dancer, putting through paces that normally an 85 ton machine has any right to be performing. This’ll be tough.

Both pilot’s went to their respective ends of the grid and came out when the Beacon sent a ping. Ken looked for a nice piece of outcropping to put his back to. That way he could keep Joel in his front 180, cutting down on where it could run.

As if on cue, Chicken Dancer came sprinting out from his left, racing headlong down the ridge line, turning at the waist to try and get some shots off with his massive Chronysis Rails.

Expecting this ploy, Ken let loose with a volley of ten Omen Barrels in a back to front sweep pattern. This drove the Chicken down the hill even faster so as to outrun the barrage.

“Ah you sneaky bastard, you set that up, dintcha!” Ken heard over his com.

“Aw c’mon Parras, you know I’ve been hit in the head too many times to use strategy!”

At this point, the Pike’s gears finally kicked in and he was able to dodge out of his nest. And not a moment too soon as pings started going off in his sensors from multiple hits being sprayed with Joel’s Arbitrator shots.

Four Meson Drives started to whine as The Piker ran out of the line of fire much faster than what Joel was expecting.

“Shooo! Lookit you! You spent some credits after the last war!”

Right then, Joel’s sensors started sending off massive pings as three Blue Dragons went straight across his hull.

The crowd was screaming as the two mighty mechs squared off. Several times, you’d think that Chicken Dancer was pinned down, only to leap to safety and cut up the Piker’s hull.

“I’ve gotta do something different or he’s going to continue to pick me apart” Ken thought.

Running straight at Chicken Dancer, Ken shot volley after volley at the legs of Joel’s mech driving him to the South East corner.

“He’s gonna run him right out of the zone!” many cried. Members of the Brotherhood shouted warnings as Dragon’s whooped with glee.

Ken stopped running forward just in time to avoid a particularly marshy field, then set loose with every missile to the rear of the Chicken Dancer.

“Now, dammit!” thought Ken. And just as expected, at the last possible moment, you saw the Dreadnaught come to a halt, leg hydraulics popping with the strain as the mecha transferred the energy of it’s run into a crouch, then leaping backwards through the air.

Everyone gasped as 85 tons of mecha flew (not unlike an ungainly chicken), it’s arch clearing 25 feet.

Ken backed up and ran to the right, keeping his Ieye on the Dreadnaught as it flew backwards, came down, and landed in the marshy field that he’d avoided earlier.

THRUMSHLORPTCH!!!!!!

All the way up to the cockpit.

“Nooooo!!!” everyone heard over the com as Joel screamed in dismay.

Kem walked his Pike up gingerly behind the Dreadnaught, took his mecha’s cannons on his left arm, held them up to the cockpit, and opened up his external speakers.”

“Boop.”

They crowd fell about themselves laughing as hard as they could. Gales of laughter flooding the field.

“Ha, ha, ha Mr. Smart Guy. Now help me outta here.”

“what, and get my mech stuck? Sorry man, my groundcrew would have my…”
“I know, I know!!! Just help me out of the cockpit, I’ve gotta go explain this!”

After it was all said and done, everyone had fun, no one got hurt, and we remain ready for when the enemy does show their faces. And maybe just a little fresher than before.

Ashes And Crystal Dust - Part 1 - By John Ringo #899287

Numbers do not lie and these jumped off the pad and cut me like a knife through the heart. My family’s crystal farm was in danger of not surviving out the year if things carried on as they were. The last pirate raid caused enough damage that it would take most of our next harvest to pay back the loans we would need to take out to replace the damaged equipment and buildings. If the pirates came back and made off with that harvest we would be finished and would starve.

I looked up from the pad and at my father sitting on the other side of the table. He was backlit from kitchen window. Smoke was still rising off the blasted service drones and smoldering outbuildings. This was coloring the sunlight and changing the warm colors in the room to a garish scene of horror and dread. His face had a few more lines in it from worry and his skin had a pale cast suggesting his heart was bothering him again. He looked so much older than his actual years. If our fortunes did not change soon I feared he would find an early grave. Taking a deep breath to clear my head and steel my nerves, I reached into my pocket and pulled out the tattered flyer I had pulled off a bulletin board from our town’s only pub. The paper rasped as I pushed it forward across the table towards my father. The noise attracted his attention and his eyes focused on the logo at the top of the page and filled with a wild mix of anger and despair. My eyes met his and I braced for getting hit with both barrels as his lips parted with a ragged breath.

“Ron, you know we can’t pay the required fee for those Mercenaries to protect our farm from pirates” He raged. “If we did that would kill the farm as sure as the next pirate raid. Besides ‘Jan’s Ragers’ are little better then pirates themselves” He growled.

This was an old argument and I knew where it would end. It was time to change the script. “Dad we can afford it if I enlist with them. They would protect us for free while I am in training.”

“NO!” He howled. “We have lost so much already I can’t lose you too!”

“You would not lose me or the farm that way and all it would cost us is my time” I firmly replied.

He grumbled. “They will not pay you anything during training or your first year of service. You will be little more than a slave.”

“They will pay for my food, gear and a roof over my head so it will cost you less to run the farm so there will be more profit for the family. Besides, if I do well in a battle I will get a share in the salvage” I retorted.

“You could be killed! He sobbed.

Now we are getting at his root fear. “I could be killed in the next raid like David was last year.” I sadly stated. My older brother David had been killed protecting one of my younger brothers and my mother never recovered from the shock. She left us all and went to one of the core worlds in the hopes of never seeing another pirate again for as long as she lived.

“I know” He hoarsely whispered. “I am going to bed.” He got up from the table and zombie walked down the hall to his room. Know all I have to do is survive the wait until tomorrow and see if I had won the war.

Another Opinion On The BBQ - By John Ringo #899287

So today I sat down at my terminal with a hot cup of my favorite morning beverage and loaded up the FB MG Player’s Page to get caught up with what’s, what and who’s, who. Before the page finished loading so I could read it my terminal’s thermal alarms started screeching like a flight of Valkyries coming to claim the dead. The monitor started to warp and sag before busting into flames setting off the fire suppression system in my office.  Now that my warm and fuzzy feelings about my morning have been washed away along with my tasty beverage, I was tempted to let loose a long tirade of verbal abuse at the universe for bursting my bubble of peace and harmony. Thankfully my reporter’s instincts kicked in and removed the Engineer from that train of thought before it could build a full head of steam and leave the station. Where there is this much heat there had to be a story this reporter needed to get in on.

My office being in shambles and my terminal in ruins led me to head down the hallway to Ken Hicks seldom used office. As luck would have it GG had to buy Ken a super-cooled terminal when he changed his personal grooming habits and bought some new bath and body products. They were supposed to have some special additives that would cause people to like being around you and more willing to talk to you. This would have been a great advantage to a reporter so I can understand why Mr. Hicks was talked into buying them by that slick salesman. Unfortunately for all of us in the Galaxy who found ourselves even in a not so close distance to Ken it just made us feel cranky and ill. The “Active Ingredients” would take up to 3 months to leave his system and this led to a ton of hate mail and we needed to buy him a special terminal to handle it all. After blowing off the dust coating the terminal I flicked it on and got back to work reading the post and the 60+ replies that caused my office to get a shower.

It would be very easy to give into temptation and just wade into the fray on the Player’s Page and add my own voice to the “Discussion” there and then have to make more posts defending my position because it was different then someone else’s. All this would do is make more white noise and ruin a chance to get my point across. Lucky for me I have a newspaper at my disposal and can write an editorial on the subject so here we are.

First off, I understand the frustrations when your bets are ruined with clans you figured should win do not for any number of reasons. I have been there more times than I would like myself. With the costs to make those bets super high and the payoff so low for the last 5+ wars I have just stopped betting.

Warning!! This next paragraph is a shameless plug so read it at your own peril. If you want to skip it just go to the paragraph after it and continue on.

If you are frustrated about how crappy the bets are you could just write 2 articles for me at GG or my fine friends over at ANN and get 60 niodes for your time. This is way less stress then trying to figure out who is going to win this war and you do not have to pay your own niodes upfront to get in the door like you do with betting. You can also write more than 2 articles and “Win” even more niodes so please take advantage of this and get paid!!

Now for those of you who skipped that last paragraph congratulations you are now caught up with the rest of us and I will now carry on.

Mecha Galaxy is just a game that we the players use for any number of reasons but to Nick and his team this is a business and MG is a product they “Sell” to us every day to pay their bills. One of the key concerns we the players have is how few players stick around and grow our community and if Game Craftsman is like a normal company this issue should concern them as well. If they can’t bring in enough new blood to at least offset players who stop playing the game in time their company will go out of business.

Every time this topic comes up on the Player’s Page it is revealed that this game is played by a diverse group of humans who have a lot of different opinions on why it is so hard for new players to stick around and fall in love with this game like we all did. The most common opinions for this failure revolve around clans in the lower divisions for Clan War choking them out from having a chance by camping, spending etc. I would like to offer a different opinion about what I feel is the single largest obstacle to a new player and place the “blame” for this at Nick’s feet. Nick, I hope when you read this you take it as constructive input and not a personal attack. I feel your new player tutorial is one of the worst I have ever experienced in a game and I felt like rat that had been taught it was better to push the green button and not the red one but because this game does not play like most players expect it to my first account I made after finding your game got messed up quickly and in only a few weeks of play I left the game with anger in my heart before I even had the chance to play in a Clan war. After a month break from the game I could not stop thinking about it. There was enough excitement about the concept of this game I had to try it again so I created a new account and I had the luck of meeting a few helpful players in Kong chat and was taught a few key tactics that helped me feel like I was not just spitting in the wind. Because of those players I joined my first clan and became a member of the AFF and played in my first Clan War and this gave way to new frustrations about this game. Nick, you have created a game that gives us lots of interesting factors that affect how we can play the game. The problem is your tutorial does not equip the new player with any knowledge on how the game works other than how to use the game UI. This lack of education in game leaves a player feeling like they would have better luck equipping their mechs and going into battle asking a Magic 8 Ball for advice. Over the years players have had to test the hell out of all the possible options and then make educated guess on the results. If a new player does not meet the right seasoned game players and get taught the right verbal lore on how the magic that makes up this game works they are screwed and leave the game in frustration. Nick, depending on your user base to explain why a new player should love your product and how to use your product is a very bad marketing plan and leaves the continued success of your company up to pure chance.

The other large challenge a new player faces is the ever-widening level gap that makes up the bottom divisions each Clan War. With more brave players joining the level 300 club each day and the player base shrinking this is causing the average level threshold to move into the next division to raise ever higher. As this gap gets wider and wider it increases the cost a player has to pay to move up in the game at a time where it is even harder for a free player to gain the needed crystal from harvesting from other players due to the shrinking player base. We are rapidly finding out those of us who started playing in the beginning of the game or at least for a longer time then players who have joined the game in the last year or so will always crush players who have joined the game in the last year. The prizes, free giveaways and betting all had a much higher value then they do now at a time when it costs way more to try and compete then it did back then. Your only real option is to whip out your credit card to buy niodes if you want to win but last year when you changed how your packages are structured you greatly lowed the value of what you get for the money spent. To be honest I do not have any extra money in my real life to invest in this game. But also, to be honest even if I did knowing what you used to get for spending $500 vs what you get now would cause me to boycott investing any of my money anyway and I know a lot of other players who feel the same way. They are at most spending $1 each rent party as it gives the best value for the money with the 50 extra niodes you get and a chance at more if you win on of the extra prizes in the raffle at the end. Nick, if I had to guess most of the players who invest more than a $1 in a rent party are in the upper few divisions and this fuels their exponential level growth with compounds the issues new players face in the lower divisions. This is also a very risky position to place your company when you are depending on a few players for most of your cash flow. In time, enough of them will move on from this game placing you in a negative cash flow spiral.

Watching how you have been adjusting the prize list over the last few wars shows that you are attempting to combat the cost challenges new players face by raising the value of the Silver prizes to the point where they are worth more than the Gold. This is only creating new challenges as players do the math and adjust how they play the game to win the greater prize. Also, with the shrinking player base and D1 level growth having only 4 prize tiers further erodes the value of the prizes relative to the player level making it ever hard to grow in levels and not gut your accounts power.

To help combat this issue I would offer this opinion. Scrap the current Clan War prize structure and just pay niodes for each medal. This would make for less work for you and your staff each war as you would not have to decided what mechs, equipment and weapons you want on the list and making sure you have the balance you need for the prizes etc. It would also allow each player to take the niodes and invest them into things they feel best help their army. It would then be very easy for you to create a prize tier for each division and allow you to better fine tune the payouts relative to the average player level in each division.

Nick, we all want new players to join our ranks and enjoy playing this game with us. We also want to retain older players and seek to offer input on ways to help you win on both issues and in doing so help keep this game alive and thriving for us all.

To everyone who read this entire 2000+ word editorial I extend my thanks. My goal with this was to try and offer a constructive opinion and as always if you have an opinion on how to improve the game please write it up and submit it to me at GG and earn some niodes for your trouble.

Again, this is just my opinion and if after reading it you feel it barely has enough value to use as toilet paper then that is your right. I just ask that we all try to have civil conversations about these issues going forward or we are just throwing more fuel on the emotional fire and speed up the player exodus and kill this game.

So Green It Hurts - By John Ringo #899287

Sometimes life just gives you a poo pie and it hits the fan.

I was sitting in my favorite Dilo “Ace In The Hole” all kitted up for combat waiting for the drop door to open and release my mech into the cold embrace of space. The status light on the countdown status display changed from red to green as the number hit 0. All around me doors quickly cycled open and compressed air pushed out my teammates mechs out of our ship. They fired their attitude control thrusters and aligned themselves for a hot combat drop onto the planetoid below and get the drop on the enemy we were tasked to fight for this round of the war. Everything was looking good on my screens. Their spacing was just right and they wasted no time in firing the main thrusters and start their screaming descent towards the ground below. The only thing that was wrong at this point was the simple fact my drop door was still closed and my computer was giving a general fault code on my mechs status readout. Grinding my teeth together in frustration all I could do is wait for the techs to reach me and pull my mech back into the service bay to find and repair the damage.

My frustration was not helped by the fact that I was assigned a group of techs so new and shiny it hurt to look at them with your eyes. You could see that they meant well and were eager to get started so I disembarked from my mech and let them get to work. They attacked my mech with the fervor of young men with something to prove. Diagnostic equipment was plugged into any free diagnostic port they could find. Access panels were pulled open all over my mech. Much time went by and more tools were brought into the fray. Sweat was beading up on their foreheads in frustration and concentration while they hunted this elusive “General Fault”.

Radio calls for help started to pour in on the loud speakers in the service bay. My team was finding out we had some bad intel and instead of getting the drop on our enemies they had been waiting in ambush for us. Chaos was breaking loose down there and I was sorely needed to join in the fight if we were going to have a chance to turn things around and save the mission. The techs started to get panicked looks on their faces as they tried to tune out those cries for help and focus on their jobs. This is hardest thing for a green recruit to do. Try and focus on the job and tune out the cries of the dead and dying. Soon the radio traffic stopped and all that was left was random bursts of static from the dead and dying mechs down below. The techs started to stop and go into shock from the knowledge they failed and others have died as a result.

“COMPUTER. END SIMULATION!”

I have had enough. “Gentlemen, you have let me down. You have let the squad down. If this had been real we would all soon be dead or on the run. Hit the showers and grab a hot meal. I expect you all to review this simulation tonight and tomorrow when we do this again I expect a better result. DISSMISSED!”

They shuffled out of the training room looking a little less shiny and a little more worn. Tomorrow will be a better day.

Post Clan War Interview - By David McCallum #701548 w/ Jasmine Cait Sidhe Carter #32890

Now it's not as if I didn't have troubles of my own, what with just coming off a particularly intense war only to be confronted by yet another Xenomorph incursion, when a whole heap more landed on my plate.

I refer to a comm call from 'Her Indoors"...

"Get over here now!" says she.

I use the word 'says' advisedly, because my ears were still ringing a good hour afterwards.

I of course mount up and head for her clan's war zone post haste, after all my C.O. can only shoot me for abandoning my position. 

Her Indoors can do far worse if I fail to respond appropriately to one of her summons.

And so, I arrive to find that particular merry band of cut-throats lounging about while the techs hammer the latest set of dents from their erstwhile steeds. I'm introduced to a new friend my wife has made, a lady that I haven't made the acquaintance of before.

I am a tad surprised when Her Indoors hustles us both into a secluded foxhole and even more taken aback when I'm told to "do that thing"... such instructions are open to all sorts of misinterpretation and besides, said new female pilot looks less like she would drive a mech into battle as she would stride there herself with a Red Ant tucked under each arm...

Thankfully it was clarified that I was to do an interview with her.

G.G. - Erm, OK, now I know whats happening, let's have name, affiliation and serial number for the record.

Jas. - Jasmine Cait Sidhe Carter fighting for the Ranger Raccoons this time, license number #32890

G.G. - So, You were fighting as part of the Heroes Ranger Raccoons this war... is it your first dance with that clan or have you been with them a while?

Jas. - This is the first clan war that I have participated in but I have been with the group some months. They are a decent bunch and I am glad they have accepted me in to their ranks.

G.G. - Glad to have you on board... but popular gossip has it that this isn't your first clan. In fact, you've been around a little while?

Jas. - That is correct. I have been in several clans starting with the Murder Bots.

I started with the Murder Bots in 3260 then went over to the Karanian Empire in 3265 and stayed with them until 3273 when I went on a long journey beyond.

I came back to fight with clan Overlords in February of the year 3296 and stayed with the Overlords until 3305 when I went to the nameless clan in April 3306 until September 3307 until I again heeded the call to adventure beyond the galaxy we know and disappeared.

I reappeared again for the strangest time of all, Porktober 3324 and have been here since then with the Racoons.

G.G. - So hang on, the first time you hung up your spurs so to speak, I hadn't even put my posterior in a pilots chair... are you one of those early jocks who were fighting before we had even worked out how to fit modular equipment into the mechs???

Jas. - Affirmative, that is correct.

G.G. - Woah... OK then, for the benefit of some of the younger pilots out there, what was the transition like moving into the hardware age? Was there a big difference when you suddenly had all this gear available for enhancements?

Jas. - Aye it was difficult at first but being one of the first we learned to adapt relatively quickly. We had to or we died, it was that simple.

G.G. - So what was it that tempted you back from your travels to climb in the cockpit and have large scale munitions flung at you again?

Jas. - I never stopped having "large scale munitions flung at me." I came back for a break from the REAL WARS...

You children have no idea what is waiting for us out there but it is too soon.. the one you called 'Baby Elephant' knew and he sadly takes that secret to the grave.

These "xenos" we fight they are just the scouts for an even larger force beyond.

It is our loss that 'Baby Elephant' passed when he did, he had good insight into tactics and clan personnel that he passed on to me in the times we talked.

G.G. - Alright, moving on to more modern times, the viewers are probably going to want to know how things went for you this war...

Jas. - How things went.. well things could have gone better. I am a bit ashamed about my performance but as time progresses i will get better

G.G. - Ashamed in what way?

Jas. - well in the beginning my performance was as a cold-blooded killer. I could take human life with the best of them and my record stated that... then I went to the wars and fought the xenos to save humans and now I'm back.. to KILL humans. Something I'm not used to doing again... yet.

But I will get back into the groove. I have to.. to survive.

Me and the Ghostriders will have to become the coldblooded killers we once were to survive in these backwards worlds .. that is.. until the xenos REALLY arrive and then all of us who have been out there fighting... well hopefully we all will return and things will change yet again.

G.G. - I've seen some of the mission tapes and in a lot of cases you looked quite out-massed by a lot of the opposition... did any of the medal prizes help towards offsetting any of that?

Jas. - Not at all. It was my pilots skill that helped turn the tide of combat. They should be commended. The equipment only enhanced their skills.

G.G. - The quality of the meat, not the metal eh?

Jas. - Affirmative, that is correct. The medal prize mecha will help but not the equipment. I mean come on, who in their right mind arms a mech with GARLIC?!?!?!?!

G.G. - Hey, you never know when vampire Xenos will arrive..

Jas. - They already have and it don't work on them because it cant get through the armor.

G.G. - That’s why you use solid shot or lasers in your first burst, then follow it up with the stinky stuff...

Jas. - No that’s when you use sunspo-- oh wait.. never mind.

Strike that from the recording please.

G.G. - Hmmm... sounds like I need to do some digging into what you may have brought back from your travels....

<At this point she unholsters a Starleague issue pulse laser>

Jas. - I wouldn’t recommend it.

G.G. - But I digress... there's another wave of Xenomorphs coming in at the moment so we probably need to wrap up shortly...

<She holsters her weapon with a wry smirk and a nod>

G.G. - anything you are hoping to scavenge from the battlefield at the end of this?

Jas. - Any intel on the main force that I can send back to the front and whatever materiel I can to use in the efforts back here.

Maybe some heavier mechs to field to replace some of my more aging units.

G.G. - c'mon... there must be something specific you are keeping your scanners peeled for...

Jas. - Hmmm.. Jadoon, Jottun or Harrel since I run very lean on Noides. That Nanite Swarm looks tasty too.

G.G. - Oh, you mean the Repair Swarm... yes very useful kit that, has pulled my buttocks out of the high temperature situations on more than one occasion. You just need to make sure they don't try to strip your body for raw materials

Jas. - Indeed.

G.G. - Anyway, incoming, we need to close this off and suit up... been a pleasure talking to you Jasmine.

Jas. - You as well. Sorry for pulling the hardware on a fellow Hero.

Back to the raid!

GHOSTRIDERS TO THE ADVANCE!!!!!

Shrapnel Blaster - By Joshua Bourne #702128

"Repurposes salvaged metals into projectiles."

Hot off the presses, we've received a new weapon from our Factories called the "Shrapnel Blaster". 

However this is a limited item, so get it while it's still here.

The Shrapnel Blaster is a Niode weapon with the following stats and costing:

Damage: 121
Speed: 105
3X Damage 12%
Trample 12%
Min Level: 71
Ferrite: 2001
Bioptics: 1200
Niodes: 60

Or buy in bulk for:

Niodes: 240

This new weapon is a devastating gun for any Projectile wielding mecha, giving it serious punching power with absolute ease.

The speed of the weapon is very good, allowing it to loose off its salvo before a lot of other high powered weapons in the Galaxy. And when you combine it's damage and speed, along with a 12% innate triple damage AND trample damage, it's going to devastate multiple mechas at once.

All in all, I think this weapon's a must have for those that can afford it. But don't miss out! They are in limited supply!

Nebula Drive - By Joshua Bourne #702128

"Fueled by a micro-nebula"

Not too long ago, we were introduced to the new 105 Ton behemoths that are the Guardian mechas, and their intense weight and gear requirements meant that the Gear suppliers had to work tirelessly to provide Pilots that own these mechas the required gear to equip them with.

This is one of the new pieces..

The Nebula Drive is a Niode Engine piece that's available to 100-105T mechas with the following stats:

Speed + 4
Fire Damage + 5%
Proj. Vulnerable 5%
2X Damage 4%

This item first made a lot of pilots happy to see, that they'd be able to purchase items to slot onto their new mecha and take out into the field effectively, but it soon sunk in that the gear was not too good against the competition 5 tonnage lower. Of course, these are the "test models" for future Equipment types, but for now we're stuck with relatively "weak" items. However I digress...

It has an okay speed buff to it of 4, which when stacked will provide the joints with enough speed to get out of a pinch, and get those devastating salvos of shots off in quick succession.

If you're partial to using Fire type weapons, this Engine'll be for you, as you get a decent 5% increase to their effectiveness, but watch out for it's innate 5% Projectile vulnerability as a result of using one (or more) of these items.

Finally, this gear also grants the mecha with an increased chance of scoring double it's intended damage, making it a very deadly weapon indeed.

My overall outcome of this gear: Mediocre. I'd wait till they get the kinks and work out the issues of the gear before beginning to purchase the Niode variants, but that's just me

History Equipment Review – By John Ringo #899287

David McCallum burst through John Ringo’s office door and started walking in circles while waving his arms around like a flightless bird who truly believes in his heart he can fly if he only flaps fast and hard enough. He stopped in front of the bookcase and starts frantically pulling books off shelves and looking inside them for the ones that have hollow insides where you can stash a bottle of booze. As the pile of empty books started to grow into a small mountain he started to mumble a few words over and over again. “It is history…. It is history…. It is history!!!!!! Why is the Rum gone…. Why is the Rum always gone?!!!” With that he collapsed on the floor into a sitting position and hugging his knees to his chest started rocking slightly back and forth in a soothing motion.

John having been in this business long enough now to recognize the sure signs of writers block from working too hard opened his lower desk drawer and removed a bottle of “Medicine”. This 108 Proof bottle of Rum should put him back to rights. John walked over to David and forced his hands open and thrust the bottle into them. With a cry of joy David took to the bottle like a baby to his mothers breast for the milk of life its self. After 1/3 of the bottle was gone the sounds he was making started to sound more like words. When ½ of the bottle was empty his eyes found John’s and he spoke. “Thanks Mate. After being away so long I should have paced myself better and not rushed the work as fast as I have been. I had just sat down to write up a review on the 105T Chassis equipment called “History” and I just snapped. Next thing I know here we are. Well I think I need to take a break for a while.” David passes out on the floor with a smile on his face.

John walked back to his desk and hits the button to start recording:

Well it looks like my guest writer David McCallum needs to take a break so I will pick up where he left off and talk to you today about one of the Chassis options for your new Guardian that was named “History”.

The store listed this as costing 2200 Ferrite, 1000 Crystal and 50 Niodes. What the hell? Crystal and Niodes for the same piece of gear??

So here are the good points. You get a 10% boost to your Fork chance. You get 5% to your 2X and 10% to your 3X damage chances…. I personally love Fork on my mechs and I will never turn down a boost to my damage multipliers but as good as this piece starts we get to the bad points…

This equipment has a -2 speed vulnerability…. Like your BFM Guardian needs to be any slower. Even worse than just slowing your mech down this equipment is missing something even more important… there is nothing that boosts your Dodge chances.

Let’s hope that as your faster foe closes in on you on the battlefield your Vorpal Sword comes up quickly in your gun rotation so you can 100% crit him before he pounds your slow not dodging butt into the ground.

Well that is all I have for you today. Be sure to tune in next time when David has another snappy review for your consideration. *Grin*

What's In A Name? - By John Ringo #899287

The CO walked through the door and the pilots got to their feet and came to attention. “At ease” He said with a wave of his hand when he reached the podium. The room settled back into their chairs and gave him their full attention. Mechinator looked around the room and briefly locked eyes with every pilot here. Just long enough that you felt welcome and a part of the team. This was one of the many skills that made this pilot a solid leader. He picked up the control wand and brought the holo tank to life and started his briefing.

“I know there has been a lot of scuttle butt going around about what kind of war we are going to have this year. Let me put you out of your misery, it is going to be a squad war this time. I know some of you like this format and there are those of you who hate it.” He paused and gave a short chuckle and then continued. “I do know that regardless of your personal feelings you will give this your best and fight together like the crazy animals you all are.” The room filled with hearty laughter and more than a few feral grins.

A grimace quickly flashed across his face before he spoke again. “Now we get to the part everyone ‘Loves’ best about a Squad War. We must split our pilots up into a few new units and come up with a name. General Abbott hates issuing names and as usual left it up to us to put one down on the paper work so we can get in.” He pushed a button on the control wand and the entrance form showed up in the holo tank. At the top of the form is the field for the name of your team and the next one below it was the field for your unit motto. Both fields still had the default text showing. “Insert_Name_Here” and “Loading…” as the form will not let go any farther until you filled those two fields in. He looked back up at the pilots and said. “So, which one of you Monkeys are going to pick the winning name this time?”

The room burst into a symphony of noise as names were shouted back to him. Some were rude, some were silly but he did not hear anything that was very inspiring. From the very back of the room a voice pierced the noise and demanded silence. Everyone turned around and looked at Joshua Bourne who had an impish grin on his face. The CO made a gesture for him to continue.

“Why don’t you just leave the default text in there boss and send it in to the Craftsman just the way it is” He laughed. “We all hate thinking up these names so why bother. Send it in that way and let’s move on to the important task of getting ready for combat.”

Mechinator laughed so hard the buttons on his uniform were straining and close to popping off. “I love it! I am sure the General will get a laugh out of this as well. Dissmissed!”